#this lonely scene / i take it in

[kurozu501]

do you ever just remember how one of the most effective things parvis said to get silence to lose faith in saria was essentially "do you really think she would ever choose YOU over everything?" and silence with her low self esteem really didn't believe saria would.

Then in the end saria really did choose them over everything, left her defense director job and her whole life up to that point behind for the sake of silence and ifrit. and silence still doesnt even know. do you ever think about that and lose your mind a little bit.

[guardian-angle22]

911: Lone Star S4 E14 | The Case of the Stolen Pudding Cup -> The Culprit Revealed

[beanghostprincess]

if you like ling and greed the most… have you perhaps considered… shipping greedling? 👀

Bold of you to assume I don't ship whatever the fuck Greed x Ling x Ed have going on at the same time

[neptune-the-elf-demon]

New oc moment rahhhhh

It's gonna take me a while to color her because I'm busy with school and also their kandi bracelets are going to have so many colors (it's silly but it's gonna be a pain to draw)

(also she's an oc inspired by @paranormal-peri like Valentine is. tho I mostly made her to give Valentine a friend at work, the two of them are besties :3)

Anyways here she is! Some background for her under cut!

(EDIT: I added her to my artfight profile as a WIP so like, go there to check out some more information on her link to it is in my intro post :3)

A scientist at a paranormal institute, she's passionate about her work and treating her test subjects with decency. Energetic, loud, and creative, June tends to scary off or piss off her fellow scientists and works alone because of that. Well, except for Valentine. He doesn't mind their antics. She pursues the paranormal after their twin sister's death, as her sister was pursuing it before she died. June also studies it to try and find out why she feels like there's gaps in their memory, why looking at clown dolls and confetti poppers makes them want to sob for an unknown reason. And so they investigate the paranormal, hoping it provides answers to her endless questions.

(she had a fairy godmother that was shared with her sister but I haven't gotten that far into their lore. all I have is the fairy is themed around a confetti popper and liked clowns a lot.)

[pasta-pardner]

When Mortimer learns Manco is a fellow bounty killer...

He smiles softly, hinting that he's already considering asking Manco to become his partner.

Manco, on the other hand...

...comes to the same realization with a sour grimace. He enters full blown this-town-ain't-big-enough-for-the-two-of-us mode.

Manco repeatedly tries to instigate a fight as he attempts to kick Mortimer out of town. He steps on Mortimer's boots, punches him in the face, and-- of course-- shoots his hat.

Despite Manco's repeated attempts to provoke him, Mortimer never escalates the confrontation. He only reciprocates gestures that Manco introduces. When Manco steps on Mortimer's boots, Mortimer reciprocates. When Manco shoots Mortimer's hat a comical number of times, Mortimer reciprocates. Mortimer doesn't punch back, and he doesn't take the opportunity to injure (or kill) Manco-- even when Manco is at a range disadvantage.

This is noteworthy, because earlier in the film, Mortimer remarks:

"Why should a man walk around with a pistol and then let himself be insulted?"

Mortimer goes through most of his encounter with Manco wearing a calm, curious expression. Manco, meanwhile, seems enraged by Mortimer's very existence.

Why is Mortimer so unperturbed by Manco's antagonistic behavior?

Well! Though Manco clearly views this interaction as a skirmish against a rival... Mortimer views it as an opportunity to court a potential partner.

His smile from the earlier scene indicates that he wants to work with Manco. That's why Mortimer reciprocates actions instead of escalating them.

Mortimer's goal was never to "beat" Manco in their quasi-duel; it was to convince Manco that he was worthy of an equal partnership.

I believe that Mortimer began the night already fully intending to invite Manco up to his hotel room for the partnership proposal.

He just needed to shoot a hat to make it happen.

[doctorbrown]

DOCTOBER '24 ⸺ 「 11 / 31 * IT WORKS 」

22:06

November 12, 1955

Three blinding flashes of light.

Three earth-shaking tremors that shake him to his very core. 

Three sonic booms that lash out so fiercely, they pierce through the fabric of space and time.

Instinct tells him to raise his hand and shield his eyes from what he’s about to witness. This knowledge will blind you—you have already seen too much, you should not see this too. Awe, responsibility, and scientific curiosity stay that hand—I must make sure Marty makes it back to his own time—and keep his attention focused on the road as the temporal displacement occurs. 

It all happens in the span of a single one of Emmett's frantic heartbeats and when everything is finally over, when an eerie, artificial silence settles into the empty spaces around him, he isn't entirely sure what's happening.

Doubt burrows its way into his mind, carried on the long shadows cast by the brilliant burst of light. Something has gone wrong, the connecting hook wasn’t properly attached to the Flux Capacitor and the power overloaded the Time Vehicle’s delicate and complex circuitry, and Marty—

As he rises to his feet, slightly unsteady, Emmett blinks the spots from his vision and looks around for any sign that his worst fears have been made reality.

There's nothing there.

There’s nothing and Emmett has never been so grateful for that in his life. No crash, no great ball of fire–however, interestingly, the Time Vehicle did leave thin fire trails during displacement that were rapidly dying out–and, most importantly, no Marty. 

Emmett lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he��d been holding to the relief of his burning lungs.

The Time Machine and Marty are back where they belong and, for the moment, Emmett allows himself to get lost in the excitement of a successful experiment and ignore the now-surfacing thoughts born of its conclusion and a mind coming down off the adrenaline, laser-focused on one singular thought.

No, there will be time for that later. Thirty years' worth of time.

A wide grin splits his face and he can’t find himself to care if it makes him look certifiably insane as he races down the street in Marty’s temporal shadow, shouting his enthusiasm to the sky. 

On the wire, the connecting hook holds strong, waving its goodbyes to a spectre.

Everything had been fine.

Everything will be fine; he’ll see to that, whatever it takes.

See you in the future, kid.

[street-corner-felines]

Zero Day (2002)

[pimento-playing-hopscotch]

🤐🫣🫣

[piraticaltwit]

d.i chandler + Judy's pregnant ! / 3.02 ↳ i don't know how i'm going to cope with a baby again at my age. and a girl too. what do i know about girls? the only girl i know is him.

[skinnypaleangryperson]

Busting a lung because the whole Joker Arthur thing was cringe as piss all, despite being one of the most beautiful healing times in my life. Still embarrassing cringe as possible can be.

[asthedeathoflight]

I don't know if I ever read your opinion on this, but how do you feel about Armand claiming Louis asked him to wipe his memories, now that we know Louis only got back together with Armand to spite Lestat? Like, if Louis basically cursed them both to this loveless eternal marriage where they're both miserable, but he wont leave Armand because then Lestat "wins," I think it actually makes me believe Armand may have been telling the truth? Like Louis may be desperate for anything that allows him to forget this misery he's resigned himself to live with as penance. Maybe he even thought it could make him love Armand again.

😮‍💨

If you had asked me before this episode i would have said louis asked for... Something? And Armand took the opportunity to dodge responsibility and ran with it. But now? Honest to god? I dont care.

If Armand wiped Louis' memory 100% premeditated against his will and everything I don't care. You trap someone who loves you while using them as a servant, holding their own heart fucking hostage against them, saying you love them when they know you dont mean it, making them beg for forgiveness, leaving them to clean up your messes, and then you tell them theyre not INTERESTING ENOUGH???? THAT THEY'RE NOT PERFORMING THE JOY OF LOVING YOU IN A COMPELLING ENOUGH WAY???? YOU TELL THEM THAT A RANDOM GUY OFF THE STREET WOULD MAKE A BETTER LIFE PARTNER THAN THIS PERSON WHOSE HEART YOU HAVE BEEN CRUSHING FOR 20 YEARS?????????

Louis had it fucking coming. End of sentence.

[guardian-angle22]

911 lone star fashion -> every carlos outfit

↳ 1.03

[triplefiresign]

TWO proposals 💙🧡

[beedreamscape]

Scenes of Iomene and Oscar in the time after.

I have no excuses for why I wrote this except [screams]. PURE SELF-INDULGENT HEADCANON. It takes place over a long, undefined length of time.

Iomene wraps her arms around Oscar's shoulders by the back and at her firm embrace, he leans into her.

His shoulders are broad so she's not able to envelop him completely. They stand at roughly the same height -either by design or some trick of the eye, he's got the impression she ought to be taller- and she's strong enough that he leans without worry of pushing her back.

She rests her chin on his shoulder and looks at the subject of his attention, the storm going outside the tall windows. Behind the curtain of rain, the thinner trees bend under the force of the wind, branches lashing against themselves and on the studier trunks, leaves sway like clothes on a line.

Their eyes cross on the faint reflection on the glass. In contrast to all that is fair in him, his eyes are like two dark marbles, a brown so deep and dark it's almost black; hers resemble her skin, an inhuman ambar like brandy on fire. Whenever she holds his stare to hers, he has the unsettling thought that she can or might be reading his thoughts.

Taking a break? He asks.

Thought I come see you.

He breathes out a laugh. You didn't have to.

The first time it happened he asked if it was her doing, the rain. It wasn't without reason, she had told him this place wasn't entirely real, the mansion -or palace if you lived in the places Oscar had- was almost a personal limbo, between veils, not outside of the Fairelands but not in it either.

Close enough it influences what happens here, she had told him.

If it rains there, it rains here?

She had shaken her head. No, fluctuations in Bleed cause this. I lived in flood and pain when war was at its highest, then in waist-deep snow as it died down.

He had also told her it reminded him of the accident and she held him steadily for what must've been hours if those had any meaning there.

Her breath has a complex rich scent, never bad but never something recognizable; a new, intriguing smell.

I don't have to do anything.

I know. He rubs the back of her hand in a resemblance of reassurance. I'm alright, I promise.

I miss having someone to care for.

He takes her upper arm, his large hand almost wrapping around it, and brings her to his side so he can look at her --- she's beautiful in a way he's not used to, though he's not quite sure what was he ever used to anymore. Her skin is bronze like copper and her hair darker than any black his eyes could register, she only looked human when she stood very close.

You already care for the whole of the Fairelands. Besides, I'm literally the last person that needs caring for.

It's different. And yes, you do. Dying is not the worst thing that can happen to a person and we both know it.

He smiles, not with teeth but broadly. Darling, I'm painfully familiar with oblivion. Though I've only skirted the edges of madness.

I've dabbled in madness a fair share over millennia.

He points lazily towards the window.

Could we walk out on it? Not in permission but in safety. Every now and then I heard of toxic rain back in Newfair, especially right after the war.

It's bleed-induced, but I don't believe it's toxic. I think we could.

And without another word, she takes his hand and leads him out.

He had asked her how far the land around them stretched on the first night he had woken up in the house --- she had kept him sleeping for about a week or maybe a month, a while to dream of death, a while to adapt her world for his presence, to be shared after hundreds of years of solitude.

For as far my legs will carry me, she told him.

Are there other buildings? Other houses?

I never felt the need for them.

You build them?

With enough will and vision, I could.

So you built this? She nods. A bit big for just one person.

One needs a variety of spaces even when living alone. I thought of rebuilding the whole of Oldfaire in the beginning, I went halfway through with it, but seeing my city with none of its people really hurt me. I did replicate the shore of Seasway, not the whole ocean, but enough that it might trick the eye into thinking it's endless.

Wow... I might need a map one day.

Yes, yes, I never thought to do so, it can be a fun project if you'd willing to tackle it. But that's for later. I reshaped some quarters and cleared space so you may shape them to your liking.

I wouldn't know where to start.

I would suggest you start with your bedroom and then the library, browse through my catalogue and pick out the ones you need to assemble your own.

Why can't I use yours?

She smiles that mischievous smile of someone who knows more, who'll always know more. You'll understand when you walk in there.

He went days without moving much further than the clearing surrounding the house, went on not exploring the library and its secrets, went on trying to ignore the grief over Cosmo, and on one of those days, returned with bloodied and torn fists.

I thought I'd hurt less in here, he told her. She gestures to the water-filled bowl in front of him and he dips his hands in, and sighs at the soothing cool of it.

That'd be easier if it was like that. I'm constantly in pain, I just learned to live with it.

I assume because of the Bleed.

Yes. They both go silent and watch the blood colouring the water red. She waits for him with a towel after five minutes. I'll put ointments and bandage it, but it'll heal regardless. It'll heal as if you had never broken your skin.

Can I even die here?

You'll have to try really hard for it and even then you'd return. The magick here... This place is electrified with both life and Bleed, its own reality and limbo combined.

Oscar went around three days without seeing Iomene before daring to enter her private quarters and look for her.

She lied pale yellow on the floor of her study, cold at the extremities, not breathing. For a second he wondered if she had succeded, but just for a second --- if she had died three days ago, her body would've begun to rot and he knew they don't have that luxury.

The bleed permeated the very air he breathed but at that moment, it flooded out of her like a broken fire hydrant, it made his skin break in goosebumps upon touch and something within him to stir.

He took her in his arms and layed her inside the gold bathtub of her bathroom, clothes and all, and ran a hot bath.

Then he sat on the floor and waited for her to return.

After a quiet period of days of studying, on her part, and reading, on his --- inside the library, he understood, rows of books that the biggest library in Newfaire would never be able to comport, knowledge so old it no longer had surviving records in the world of the living, no place traversable in search of a casual read at least not in short notice ---, she invites him for a walk.

The weather was nice, not too hot like in days of excessive magick nor cold like in days of Bleed, and Iomene wore clothes shorter than any he'd ever seen her in, considering he'd only ever seen her in long pants and gowns.

She walked with a purpose for about five minutes before reaching another clearing, not a random grass field, but a perfect cone with grass cut to perfection and familiar lines.

She walked forward towards the perfectly cut circle at the head of the field while he stood stunned.

I know this means very little without peers to play with but I thought we could think of something for two or at the very least it could bring forth fond memories.

He held back tears. Yeah, we can think of something. But we'll need-

The bats and balls are right over there, she says pointing to one of the trees where beneath is an open crate with the equipment. Needless to say, I'll need some training, I'm afraid just watching didn't make me a partner up to par.

He laughed out loud, the first time she heard it. Well, if it'll be just the two of us... He studied the contents of the crate and he picked up a ball. First of all, I think I'll need you to perfect your throws.

And shooted the baseball her way.

The rain feels both exactly like it always did, but also more real, much colder even through his dress shirt, especially through it, the intensity of the rain soaking the fabric until the clothes cling to his skin.

Yet he stands under it, proper vision of his surroundings impeded by the water except that of her, standing near, long dark hair dripping and a face that could only belong to an empress.

I haven't stood in the rain in decades, I think, she shouts. There's something jovial to her in this very moment, to her smile and the way she faces the rain as it pours over her face.

With her, there is always a dichotomy --- real or fantastic, a mother or a partner, a goddess or a woman.

He ignores every restraint and every assumption, and gives in to the feelings he's still allowed in this moment: the cold making his skin prickle, the fear brought by the intense sound of the storm hitting the trees and the house's roof, but especially the searing hot draw towards the woman who doesn't flinch as she looks at the abomination of his existence --- his only equal.

Oscar closes the distance, holds her face with the scraps of gentleness he still recalls and kisses her with the ferocity of a creature fearless of death. Iomene responds with the hunger of a prisoner fed comfort and warmth, holding onto him with nails dug deep as a captive holds onto freedom.

He pulls away with blood seeping through the cracks of his lips, blinking through wet lashes.

You taste like mints, he shouts through the rain.

She's serious when she responds, I considered your preferences.

This takes him by surprise. You knew I'd kiss you?

She smiles with her eyes.

No. But I've been hoping one day you would.

[masked-alien-lesbian]

Because being alone all your life is such a death sentence 🙄

[rinbylin]

他居然是朕的儿子里面最像朕的。// 这个臭小子资质不错，的确有我当年的风范。