#this was cathartic for me

[sabotourist]

Some thoughts on season 19

This is probably going to be one of the most personal things I ever post on social media. But I have some thoughts.

Sarge and Doc died. Doc wasn't even killed on-screen. Was barely even mentioned until the end. He died having only saved two people in his entire career as a medic. Sarge died, and Donut wasn't even there to see it happen.

Was he off grieving Doc? Was he just doing other stuff? I don't know. But he was gone.

Why was he actually gone? Probably for budget reasons. Time constraints. Studio trouble and issues with the engine or model or whatever else. Writing constraints that forced Donut and Doc into such secondary roles. Into dying off screen. Into not even being there when two people you care so much about die.

But like, how much of that was actually in the narrative's control? They had these limitations to write around, and it put these characters in situations where they couldn't be in narratively satisfying roles.

In some ways, it's the most brutal depiction of what life is like.

When I was 14, I lost touch with my best friend. I just didn't keep my phone on me often at the time. He died. I think, if he had lived, he would have gone on to do some absolutely amazing things. He didn't get to. He called me a couple days before it happened. I didn't see it.

Death isn't fair. But it's not the end.

I think, if the story had had more time, these characters could have had better roles. But life isn't always so kind. Death isn't always so kind. We lose people when we're not looking. We blink and people are gone.

Doc, Sarge, Church, and Tex are dead. Wash was in an institution again. Tucker just went through all that. Grif went back to earth.

That's... that's brutal. Why don't I hate it? On paper, I'd hate it.

I think it might be because it doesn't feel like a goodbye, or even the end. There are loose ends. A lot of them. There's so much pain there, so much healing and moving on to be done. Just because Grif went back to earth doesn't mean he and Simmons don't call all the time. Just because Donut wasn't here to maybe save Sarge doesn't mean he won't be there eventually.

Just because Doc only saved two people doesn't mean it didn't matter.

Life is brutal. Death is brutal. Shit happens. Shit that isn't fair. Whether it's people we love dying, or just studio drama fucking a show.

But... that doesn't mean it's the end.

Doesn't mean Simmons is going to be alone, doesn't mean Doc died for nothing, doesn't mean Sarge's sacrifice meant nothing, doesn't mean Wash or Tucker's lives are ruined, or that Caboose can't have a new best friend.

I like to imagine Donut taking up medical studies after this. Doc saved him. He's going to make damn sure that matters. Maybe Blood Gulch becomes something of a boot camp for some future loser rejects in need of a home that Simmons can guide.

Church, in all his forms, may be gone. But that doesn't mean they're going to be so quick to forget. Leave the past in the past. But still look back from time-to-time. It got you where you were.

Sometimes we pass memories down through stories. Sometimes, just in the choices we make throughout our lives.

But just... unfair things happened. To the show, and to the characters in it. To the people running it. My best friend died when he was 14. Monty Oum died in his prime. Life is tragic. But hey, it's not the end. It's just the start of something new.

Maybe it isn't perfect. Maybe it isn't ideal. Maybe it hurts. Maybe it'll never stop hurting. But it can still be beautiful. it still has meaning.

It may just be a silly show about Halo dudes, but it matters.

Tl;dr: Raven is stupidly sentimental right now

[spacedoutstrawberry]

“Take my hand and never know fear again,” it promised. The great spotlight of its face illuminated something emerging from its side, covered in what looked like stringy tar. It slowly came to resemble an arm, albeit several times larger than any human arm should ever be and… pulsing. Just under the surface. Like millions of worms struggling to break free of their not-quite-human skin.

The offer hung in the air between them.

She had known so much fear. It was fear that had driven her here, after all. Here, in a forest that had felt wrong from the first violently twisted and heavy tree, at the end of a bitter autumn that promised an even worse winter, under a starry night that had slowly morphed into pitch black as the creature - unbeknownst to her - drew its shape from the shadows all around.

She feared the persecution she knew she’d face when they found out what had been done to her (she could hear their voices now, it had driven each frantic step even as her feet began to bleed. Even as the sun sank and the warmth of the day dissipated into biting cold and she remembered she had no one to turn to and nowhere to go and no plan at all.). Fear had become an uninvited guest, a bully that shoved her to the ground and then kicked her while she was down. Fear had been used to manipulate, control, and guilt her her entire life. Fear had been used to keep her powerless.

No, she thought, I’m done with being afraid.

She turned her head up to gaze at the oddly cold light of the creatures face and reached out a hand to grasp its own.

It’s time I was feared, instead.

———————

I was inspired by this podcast I listen to called ‘Old God’s of Appalachia’, and I had some pent up rage haha.

[spirits-n-giggles]

Weren’t dreams supposed to just be random piles of information being sorted through by her subconscious? That’s what Lydia's professor said in back in Psych 101, but she often wondered- do people often dream in monologues and see a theatrical experience within their nightmares, or was it just her? Unfortunately, she wasn’t nearly close enough with anyone to ask a question like that. What kind of connection could still be tethering her to such depravity? And why is she finding comfort in it? A lot can happen in thirty years, and most of it happens in her sleep. (Complete)

A little Beetlebabes for the fellow wackadoo's out there. We all have a little demon in our dreams, don't we?

[clown-cult]

Jess gives Miguel a bit of advice and Gwen gives him a pin.

She got it from Hobie.

Reblogs > likes. Click for better resolution.

[tawnysoup]

Their POV

[macadamiyam]

cait is h*rny on main

[jazzies-stuff]

Didn't see that one coming, did you, Azul?

Based on this:

+ full version

[nesscuro]

“resplendent. rendered even more beautiful by her beholder.”✨☀️

(a redraw of a small piece of the ‘Villa Igiea’ Mural by italian artist Ettore De Maria Bergler…which i implore everyone to have a look at. it is Gorgeous)

[oranpo]

Overworked and tired. Blame Papa Nihil for this one😔

[bunnieswithknives]

Thanks.

Prev

[drawerbread]

first flower of my house

(aka harrow can’t catch a break in my drawings)

alt version:

[payasita]

toired

[greenlaut]

pov: ur sarge is more unhinged than u thought (he’s a demolitions expert)

[moggettt]

"If I wanted to take over the station's systems and kill everybody, I'd have done it by now."

[theoppositeofprofound]

not to go off topic but i think that ideal post-canon dungeon meshi situation for kabru is for him to simultaneously have a slowburn domestic cozy noodles and rare escapes to go monster hunting and falling asleep in the same bed situation with mithrun AND some sort of high politics high stakes power dynamics they can't escape, manipulation equally matched by hopeless affection, glances shared over council tables, getting caught in the closet with the king again (explaining basic social protocols to him) thing with laios.

then just as he's coming to terms with his own feelings and the possibility that they might be romantic he learns that mithrun and laios have in fact been carrying on some sort of psychosexual no-strings affair the whole time (mithrun sits on the dresser and dispassionately explains horrific and bizarre monster situations from around the globe while laios gets off seven feet away)

[giddlygoat]

based on this au i made. don’t worry, i’m sure they’ll work it out