#tw: boys are idiots

[revalition]

logic fail in front of the hardies I dont like how this turned out but if I dont post it, it'll go die in my drafts. so.

hopefully this is how you format on tumblr?? im very new here

[nomsfaultau]

The Lambs Wolves Wear part 6

Dark SBI AU where Philza’s human children were replaced by monsters. Start of ficlet is here.

It wasn’t unusual that “Technoblade” was late to meals. Philza wasn’t entirely sure if he needed to eat anymore. The hoard of spirits using Technoblade as a conduit assured Philza the body of his real son was technically still alive, but it didn’t change the fact his child looked less alive every day, pallid skin and sunken sockets. “Technoblade” was rather diligent in feeding the body they possessed, though often grew distracted, consumed with ghostly obsession. “Technoblade” had taken it upon themselves to farm the land, and with armies of ghosts set upon the task, there was little use for Philza. He was left to domestic upkeep, shaved down into nothing more than a sweet and nurturing caretaker. Hopefully such a docile persona would cause them to underestimate him.

Technoblade was stolen from him, but not truly gone. Perhaps it could have been some relief. Only his darkest nightmares could begin to fathom what the fates of his other children were, and yet he could still embrace Technoblade. It didn’t change the gut feeling that he was cradling the icy corpse of his son. Philza wasn’t sure if he could handle realizing he was watching his dead son’s carcass laugh and walk alongside him, puppeteered by ancient specters. No. The real Technoblade had to be in there somewhere. He had to. 

“Technoblade” hadn’t come back from the barn yet. Philza frowned as he dished out stew, then ordered “Tommy” to fetch his brother. While Philza only pretended to care if the others ate, he needed to believe Technoblade’s body was still alive. 

The demon whined about waiting to eat, then hmph’d and crashed through a window, morphing into a dark stallion as he raced for a distant barn. Philza flinched at the shattering glass, then sighed as Wilbur began to weave yet another illusion to ‘fix’ the broken window. Sometimes Philza wondered how much of his life was distorted into the image of a happy normal family, pasted over with magic to hide the real damage. 

A sound like distant thunder cracked through the air. Suddenly he could see the towering true form of the demon that stole Tommy, hissing and recoiling as dark waves of an undead legion poured out of the barn, attacking everything in their path. War unfurled from the barn.

Ah. So the façade was finally over. There was a grim relief in relinquishing the fragile peace. It was too soon, he still didn’t know where all his children were. But Philza was prepared. He’d been covertly stockpiling the means to defend himself for a long time now. These creatures wearing his children wouldn’t kill him that easily.

“Tommy” scrambled back from the ghosts that charged at him. Powerful claws slashed through the ranks, but their fury was ceaseless and phantasmal. “Tommy” turned tail and scampered back to the house. A blur of his form, and a bristling raccoon burrowed around Philza’s shoulders, shaking and bleeding.

“He’s crazy,” the demon hissed, ringed tail puffed up. “I tried to help him like you taught me to,” “Tommy” insisted, expecting reprimand. “He attacked me! And he was rude! He wouldn’t die even when I tried to kill him!” Philza pressed a kiss to the injured raccoon’s forehead, ignoring the sulfuric smell. Only a little longer must he pretend to love them. He coaxed the demon and changeling into resuming lunch, promising to handle it.

And then Philza prepared to finally kill the thing festering inside Technoblade’s body. It would have to be fast, before the others realized they were next.

Ghosts poured out of the barn, the restless legions of the slain pouring out upon the land they once tilled. Philza gripped his iron sword, praying the clumsy holy runes he’d scratched into would be enough against the undead. And then Philza charged in, flashes of blessed metal carving through the ghosts. It caught the spectral blows of swords that otherwise would have cut him to ribbons. He plunged into an army. Flashes of searing cold scraped through his form, numbing his soul. Still he sliced his way through the ghostly legion, fighting to the heart of the war. The world was a blur of darkness, but a trail of blood guided him to where ancient armies poured out of his child.

Spectral hands ripped at him, though he warded them off best he could with his Prime-blessed blade. His sword was torn out of his cold-numbed hands, too rigid from the rime crawling up them to pick it up again. And yet Philza pressed on, weathering the arctic shadows cutting to his core. In the heart of the darkness, “Technoblade” curled into a haystack, shuddering as waves of undead soldiers clawed their way out of him.

The hoards descended upon Philza, shrieking and ripping into him. Frost struck through him, brutal in its cold. Philza stumbled, struggling to pass through the gale of spirits to the body they possessed. His heart began to freeze inside his chest, sluggish as it tried to join the host of the undead. He reached for the boy, fighting with everything he had, and slammed the binding tag onto him.

The spirits screeched as they were suddenly ripped backward and shoved back into “Technoblade”. It snapped to silence abruptly, the spell tag having done its work. The ghosts couldn’t leave their vessel now. Philza panted, each exhale no longer spilling condensation. His fingers were still numb even as the soul frost melted, but he stumbled over to his dropped weapon, dragging it as he slowly approached the shaking boy. Blood trailed toward “Technoblade”, staining the hay he curled in.

Philza pointed his sword at the hyperventilating ghost. “Give me back my son.”

“Technoblade” didn’t seem to hear him, mumbling over and over to themselves. “Don’t hurt him don’t hurt him don’t-" the monster began sobbing as he raised the sword.

And Philza realized he wasn’t going to be able to kill them. Not when they begged for mercy in the voice of his children. No, not when they shared his home for months, when they looked to him for guidance to mold them into gentler lives. “Technoblade” putting down their swords in favor of plows, “Tommy” learning to be careful in his affections, “Wilbur” slowly realizing he might be loved for himself and not the child he replaced. They all called him father long past when the deception was broken.

His heart howled. He wanted the monsters that destroyed his children dead. And yet Philza couldn’t do it. He couldn’t.

The sword clattered to the barn floor. “Technoblade” whimpered and struggled at his approach, kicking out wildly. Philza wrestled them down, catching the hands clawing at him. “Technoblade” was a bloodied mess, a gash crossed over an eye and digging down his collarbone to his heart. “Don’t hurt him dON’T HURT HIM PLEASE—“

And suddenly, Philza remembered that “Technoblade’s” last vessel had been murdered.

Philza brushed “Technoblade’s” hair from where it fell into the wound. “Shhh, it’s okay. If I wanted you dead, you would be.” It soothed the strategically-minded spirits a little. Philza would exorcise them in a heartbeat, but then he’d have to deal with the others and in that time Technoblade could very well bleed out. Never mind the fact he still didn’t know where the other children were.

He peeled out of his jacket and used it to soak up the blood, murmuring assurances. Slowly “Technoblade” began to calm, realizing they weren’t being attacked. Shakily, they explained that they’d accidentally hurt Technoblade’s body when tilling, and panicked, sure they’d be finished off while weakened. They kept apologizing for hurting the body, like Philza couldn’t see how deeply the ghosts cared for their vessel. Carefully, Philza removed the binding spell tagging the spirit, shoving it into a pocket for later. “Technoblade” reached dark hands for him, clinging on for comfort. 

Foolishly, Philza thought that was all they did, till too late he saw the shadow and whirled to find his sword hovering over him in a phantom grasp. “Technoblade” examined the runes Philza scratched into the metal. “You have been scheming against us,” they said almost levelly. Red eyes pinned him from within dark sockets, staring up from where “Technoblade” clung to his chest. A spectral hand clawed at the fabric covering his hammering heart, poised to rip it out. He’d let his guard down. 

Philza was silent, realizing he’d revealed his intent far, far too soon. “…I’m not a foolish man. You’re a warrior, are you not? Would you deny me strength? We all know I’m nowhere near you boys’ equal.”

“Technoblade” pressed the sword hilt back into his palm. “True. A far better man than any of us. Few soldiers are strong enough to stop fighting.”

Next>

[jocollins]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski Additional Tags: Fluff, lot fluffier than you may think, Soft Boys, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, Healing, mention of PTSD, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Happy Ending, soft Summary:

Derek has past trauma, Stiles does too, weirdly enough it match. Without even really noticing they fall in love and help each other work through the darkness within.

[faithinlouisfuture]

idiot boy (affectionate) 😂

[frodho-slaggins]

Also it is patentedly incorrect to write a character as a morally cogent and politically literate feminist and have her blame her boyfriend for getting literally unambiguously raped without narratively unpacking it. I think there's room for Annie to feel betrayed or even for her to fuck up in the way she did in the show (by treating this as an infidelity) and for hughie to respond as tho he has something to apologize for (although its clearly not his fault) because ppl are allowed to be hypocritical in their politics, misinformed, blindspots, momentarily blinded by stress etc but only if the framing recognizes the reality that hughie was raped and should be treated with that in mind from a narrative perspective. He's clearly traumatized by it. It's rlly goddamn obviously not even a little bit his fault. It would have been very interesting for Annie to respond this way with the narrative understanding that she is essentially victimblaming but instead it's not intentional just another character writing fuckup. Kripke learn how to write about gender challenge.

[scatterpatter]

FINALLY giffed up my sweet boyes in their debut!!! Thank you S3E05 Where Is Thy Sting for giving us these lil idiots I care them so many

Bonus Jetfire getting absolutely clonked because this is so freaking funny:

[v4mpr0m4nce]

………………….

i just wanna be loved

[mrs-sherlock-holmes]

If their shows were set in the same universe these two would be best friends. I just KNOW it.

[thecedarchronicle]

i love being a writer because i almost passed out for the first time in my life today (im okay! i donated blood and i didn't realize how dehydrated i was) but my immediate thought process went:

oh shit i think im about to pass out -> damn, i hope this isn't serious, oh no -> wow its great im still lucid enough to remember some of this for reference later

[mechanicalbowtye]

read the scratch upd8. little too close to home

[the-kipsabian]

local baka gaijin doesnt like to be called by his affectionate nickname (chrissy b) and tries to leave

[fanshii]

[chilapis]

baby’s first vent post. <3

[corvidcrowned]

RED MY FRIEND... AND EITHER 5 OR 4... OR BOTH

OH HELL YEAH

[queenerdloser]

what i need is like. a how to guide on improving your food health when you’re a tiny baby who only likes carb heavy savory food and doesn’t like to cook and also hates change. basically i need someone to come in & force me to eat better for me bc experience has shown that i crumple at the slightest bit of hardship when it comes to re-aligning my eating habits. 

[alexxkresnik]

💓- lifesigns!! From Arven!

He remembered the story his dad’s had told him and his sister long ago. They’d been best friends, out on an adventure when a wild pokemon attacked. The pokemon had been aiming for Papa, but Dad took the blow instead, getting pretty injured in the process. Papa took care of Dad until he was better and had ended up confessing his love to him in the process; even though the wound wasn’t life threatening, he didn’t want to have any regrets, just in case. 

His sister had been enamored with the story. “It’s like a fairy tale!” she’d exclaimed, even though it was the tenth time they’d heard it already. Alex, on the other hand, hadn’t given it much thought. It was romantic, sure, but that wasn’t his top priority when he was younger. He wanted to catch and train pokemon so he could eventually take on every gym and Elite Four member in the world. Did he want to be champion of every region? No, that was too much work. He just wanted to go out and prove that he and his pokemon were strong enough to take on the world.

And then they’d moved to Paldea and he’d met Arven. Had his goal changed? No, of course not. But now there was someone extra in his life. Someone worth protecting, just like Dad had done with Papa. Although, he doubted they’d be very proud of him right now. For protecting someone? They’d be very proud. For throwing himself in front of a raging Garchomp instead of using his pokemon? Not so proud. But it had been aiming for Arven and he wasn’t just going to stand around doing nothing. 

He’d protect Arven and his pokemon. Thankfully the wound wasn’t life threatening, but he was losing quite a lot of blood. Arven was by his side immediately; thankfully the Garchomp seemed to have settled enough to walk away after the attack. He could feel his fingers searching his pulse points, checking for his heartbeat. It was there, but weaker than normal. A heavier weight was suddenly felt on his chest - above his heart. He assumed it was Arven, still checking. 

His vision was blurry once he had enough energy to open his eyes, but he could still make out his outline. There were words being said, but his mind was still reeling from the shock of the attack for him to comprehend much of it. Reaching a hand out, he gently patted Arven’s head, mustering the best smile he could in his situation. “‘m okay… glad you’re… safe…” He wanted to say more, to reassure Arven that he’d survive this, but he was exhausted. He’d check on him again once he woke up, but for now he just wanted to drift off to sleep.