#tw; all caps

[shiroi---kumo]

"I know what is BEST for you."

[alchemic-elric]

@lxmitlxss || Hohenheim [ X ]

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ He doesn't know why listening to Hohenheim talk makes steam practically roll from his ears, but here he is looking that man in an older mirror of his own eyes ready to both blow a gasket and cry at the same moment. They would be tears of frustration if he even had tears left to cry. He doesn't know how many times he's broke down on Alphonse about this subject in their lifetimes. More than he cares to admit because this sonnavabitch had the fuckin' gall to fuckin' dump their asses and leave them and then come crawling back like nothing ever happened and he had the right to anything they had to offer.

He doesn't give a FUCK if he's their father. HELL NO. FUCK THAT. He gave up those rights as soon as he walked out that door.

So now golden eyes fill up with fire glowing with molten ire as he glares the man down with a rage that has been burning in him for the better part of a decade.

"You come back 'ere thinkin' we owe you fuckin' shit after the bullshit you pulled? I 'on't give a FUCK where you've been, Hohenheim! I 'on't give a FUCK what you've been doin' 'coz whatev'r the fuck it was, it was more important than us n' nu'hin' burns m'ass harder then the fact that whatev'r the fuck you decided you needed'ta go do was more important then bein' fuckin' there when yer wife n' kids needed you.

Mom's fuckin' gone n' you nev'r came back ta check on our asses ev'n once. We all coulda been dead n' you wouldn't'a known the damn difference 'coz we didn't clock high enough on yer list'a important shit ta check in. So NO. Whatev'r the fuck it is, FUCK YOU.

You ain't got kids 'coz you gave up that fuckin' right the minute you closed that door. We inn't make you leave but ya did it anyways. Whatev'r the fuck we earned, we did on our own merit. I've live m'whole life fuckin' scrappin' 'coz'a yer ass. I inn't need yer ass then, n' I sure as fuck don't need yer ass now. Who the fuck do you think you are? M'father? You lost those rights, Hohenheim n' sorry ain't gunna earn'em back!!!"

[creation-help]

STOP BEING SELF CONSCIOUS ABOUT YOUR CREATIONS STOP SECOND GUESSING WHAT YOU REALLY WANNA DO STOP DEBATING IT'S WORTH. LET YOUR ART SERVE YOU INSTEAD OF THE OTHER WAY AROUND

[shiroi---kumo]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ The little beast is talking again and he can't begin to describe the way his stomach turns when he hear that voice speak to Ai in such a way. That's her brother but his form is being puppeteered by that demon in the same way it dug it's claws into his soul and commanded him. He wasn't born of the beast. They were not kin but he still thought of that man - that boy no longer - as his own. He had always thought of the Hayakawa as the children of his own that he could no longer have.

But he kept them at a distance. He pushed them away. For their safety he said. For their betterment he convinced himself. If they weren't around someone like him then they wouldn't think about the source of their pain. Chaos wouldn't come them if it wasn't being drawn out by the presence of it's favorite toy.

If he just kept them away from him then they would be safe. They could live a normal happy life and even if they had to do that without him then - then he could make peace with that.

But things never go the way he wants them to.

He left them out of so many important moments in his life. He pushed them away because he thought he was being noble by sacrificing his relationship with them for the better good. So they never saw - they never saw him complete his Path. They never saw him dance his vows with Kain. They never saw him truly ascend the throne. They never saw. All the important events in his life that have happened - they don't know them. They don't know why he wears the crown upon his head so boldly now.

He shoved them away. OUT and as far as he could.

What right does he have to tell them that he loves them now?

The beast is talking and he probably should listen, even if it isn't talking to him. Even if it's talking to the camera again but that means it's probably important. If Chaos loves anything, it loves a show and there is no doubt that if he can manage to swim through the memories to actually listen then perhaps he'll at least hear how he's going to d -

".....but in many cultures, beheading was often used as the punishment for those of noble stature. Since our dear little Cloud here had been trying so hard to be like them, it's only fitting we give him the pleasure of dying like one..."

- He can feel his blood running cold as he thinks about it. As he tries to imagine the feeling of a blade cutting through to take his head from his shoulders. It's not a death he's ever experienced but Chaos didn't possess a blade sharp enough to accomplish -

He's watching as a sword case is being brought in the room and he knows before it's even opened. She's screaming inside him. She's weeping and crying and she's begging not to be made to do this.

"Minun Pilvini." She begs "Älä pakota minua tappamaan Pilviäni."

But no one can hear her expect the one she is weeping to save. She's rattling in the hand of the one who takes her. She is rattling and fighting as she attempts to break free of the grasp of the beast that means to strike him down again.

She is rattling but he is not.

No the lunar king is frozen, ignoring the request to if he had any words at all to be his last, despite the gag firmly forced between his lips. It doesn't matter what he would want to say the words won't make it into the air more than the sounds of just pathetic sobs.

And the tears are rolling now as grey eyes fill up his vision. Jade slides to look away if only for a moment to glance to the screen as love fills up his vision. Eyes that are reserved for one man and one man only. Even if his words are trapped within his throat, his emotions can't be erased from his heart.

This is it.

There's no more running. He's going to die.

Will he resurrect as he always does, or is this finally the end of his undying life? He doesn't have a choice in how this will end, but he does have a choice in how this will play out.

So he stares straight into the camera for a short drawn out moment. He stares into that camera like he's looking deep into grey eyes that are always filled glimmering stars whenever he looks back at him. He doesn't need to speak to say to him what he needs to say. He's wearing the same look he did the day they danced their steps of commitment. There's no way that the northern star won't know how the Moon sings Rakastan Sinua with his every breath.

But there's no way out this.

He can't break himself free. His body feels too heavy. His lungs are panting and he can feel the fatigue weighing him down. Even if he started trashing it would only make it worse. What would Rakkani want? Home. Rakkani would want him to come home and he wants to go home too. He wants nothing more than to be able to return to his arms but that isn't in the cards.

He's been dealt the Death card and he's fought against it so many times. He's always gone against it kicking and screaming but now - now it's different. He's not the man he once was and if he needs to show anything in this moment it's grace.

So he's trying to control the trembling as he moves. Jade is falling closed as he does and he never acknowledges the monster's question as he brings his head back around to lay flat with the post at his back. Slowly, body shaking, he swallows hard as this lunar king only moves to raise his head.

He'll go out proudly. He'll go out with his head held high.

And more importantly, he's positioned himself to give that beast a clear strike at his neck. Even an inexperienced swordsman should be able to complete the task in a single blow with as sharp as the Maken's blade was.

If he knew anything at all, he knew Rakkani wouldn't want him to suffer.

I love you.

As everything is occurring, it finally feels everything falling back into place, where it rightfully belongs. It can see the slowing thrashes, the way that the swordsman has his main weapon of breath at the very least stifled. He's at the end of his rope, it may not even need Ai to do anything to keep the man still. It could certainly use this further as well, if he was to fall out of line at some point. If this was his reaction to a slap, there was so much it could act upon later... She wouldn't have to do anything, it decides, but it makes the point clear with one comment before it returns to the vision of perfection it had been attempting to create for so long.

"You're lucky your little outburst made his easier, or you'd be in much bigger trouble..."

However, the girl can only stay stock still in that moment. She's gotten out of it, somehow... She knew this lenience was only due to the way that the prisoner slowed, and she could only tell there would be some punishment to come later. Even if there wasn't, the anticipation for something to come would kill her all the same. She knows better than to stir the pot now. She should have before. Instead, she turns away, to protect herself more than anything else, no matter how selfish that may seem.

It's her fault, and yet she can't watch. How childish could she be...

However, the beast quick acts as though nothing had happened prior, aside from having to step away due to some technical difficulties. Ah, they wouldn't find it strange. Things could raucous with criminals when push came to shove. So, it smooths out its clothing once again and the feed cuts back. The only thing one might possibly see different is the exhausted pretender, and a haze about the room. Both of them, however, meant nothing now. Its image would be maintained, even if they'd seen the beginning of an escape attempt. It could deal with a bit of insubordination, as long as the populous knew that it could handle it.

"I apologize for the sudden interruption, even with the best of preparations, hiccups can appear. However, it's all settled dear viewers, so worry not. We have an execution to return to, after all!" It's face is much more cheerful than it should be in this moment, especially to be recovering from such a setback.

"Now, I don't know if you all know this, but in many cultures, beheading was often used as the punishment for those of noble stature. Since our dear little Cloud here had been trying so hard to be like them, it's only fitting we give him the pleasure of dying like one," it laughs, as it holds its hand out. It takes some time, but then another subordinate rushes in with a sword case in her hands. But its not just any sword.

There, the Maken lies.

It finds no reason to fear that the man will fight back. Not like this, not when the castle could be locked down at a moment's notice. These walls had held him for twelve years, and it could do so for longer if Chaos played its cards right. So, it takes the blade from its case and into its hands. It can feel the feeble god's surge to try and remove herself from its grasp, but it can only laugh. Such a thing didn't work before, and even if the shape of the hands changed, their master's hand not.

It's grip is firm, and it's ready to strike. Even if the slice was not clean, it worried not. It would do this as many times as was needed... It's over, and a few emotions fill it, mostly those of unadulterated glee.

"Do you have any last words? Oh, but even then..." It laughs at its own joke, as it prepares to swing.

[tinywafflerat]

CANINE THERIANS/OTHERKIN/NONHUMANS/ALTERHUMANS/WHATEVER LISTEN UP

AI OVERVIEW CONFIRMS: WE CAN GET TOP SURGERY!!!!

[blitzwhore]

I was lying on the floor thinking about this moment (as usual):

And I suddenly remembered THIS MOMENT:

And now I think I need to lie down harder, holy shit.

BLITZ IS SCARED OF LOSING STOLAS. HE IS SO SO SO SCARED OF LOSING STOLAS.

"Am I not, like, fucking you good enough? Because I can—I can always do better" HE JUST REALLY DOESN'T WANT TO LOSE STOLAS

"You don't have to stay here with me" *Looks at Stolas with the most vulnerable and terrified expression in the world*

HE CANNOT BEAR TO LOSE STOLAS. HE WANTS STOLAS TO BE ONE OF THE PEOPLE WHO ARE NEXT TO HIM WHEN HE DIES. HELLO? IS THIS THING ON, CAN ANYONE HEAR ME!!!??? BLITZ WANTS TO SHARE HIS LIFE WITH STOLAS, HE WANTS STOLAS BY HIS DEATHBED!!!!!!!! AND NOW HE FEELS LIKE HE HAS LOST HIM!!!!!

*passes out*

[lilhub]

WE HAVE AN EDEN PNG IN BETA. THIS IS NOT A DRILL WE HAVE A CLEAR EDEN PNG IN BETA

They fixed Hermit Valley so that we would only have a singular Eden mountain, and of course I went to go and grab a picture. The lightning flashed, and lo and behold, for the first time, the PNG lit up.

I am losing my mind.

Lore enthusiasts, have fun

[shiroi---kumo]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ They're falling backwards and soon this wolf will consume him whole whether he likes it or not. He can only hope - He can only hope that -

No! No!

He will die here. He will not allow Black Wind to pull him under the ocean's crashing waves - but there's not much he can do for the moment as they both crash down and his head strikes against the forest floor. His head screams more so than it already was when his right most horn hits the dirt and he feels the vibrations rattle through his form.

His entire body is screaming. His head is spinning and the bridge of his nose is most likely blooming into a nasty bruise. Even so he needs to get out of here and he is up on his knees as fast as his aching body will allow. He can feel his stomach slosh to one side and then the other as jade eyes start to search the space around them for the Maken.

He just needs to get the Maken and then get the boiling hells out of here as quickly as he's able but even as he focuses on it, the blade doesn't even so much as shake. It's too hard to concentrate on lifting it right -

A variable claw clamps down on his ankle and drags him backwards. Dragging him on his belly over dirt and grass and stone. There's only so much he can do with one arm. Only so much one can do when the other is sounding out in shocks like a firecracker when even his regeneration can only heal him so fast. He can feel the grip at his ankle almost like the jaws of a wolf biting down against flesh only intent on tearing his skin raw.

The force of his Other's strength has him flipped onto his back faster than he has the capacity to react. Knees digging into his sides as weight settles down upon him in order to keep him firmly in place. In order to keep this bird grounded the wolf knows one must clip his wings so to speak and jade moons cannot get their sight off the glimmer of the red within the gun mage's hand - caught shimmering in the moon's glow. The wolf's teeth already stained red with the blood of plenty before him and ready to lap up his own just the same.

No. This was different. This was different because those before were a necessity. This was different because to be able to drink his blood straight from his neck - for this wolf that was the prize. That was what he was to him now. A grand victory in the scheme of it all. He was no longer the Rorahm-Saheer he so adored. No longer was this the wolf that would protect this lamb from his own pack.

No, now the wolf was rabid and he was intent on consuming the very lamb he had been so adamant about protecting all those years before.

The eyes looking down on him were as red as his own but for differing reasons. Vastly different reasons. Both overcome with emotions but the Snow White Prince could hardly say they were even remotely similar in mindsets. No, this wolf - this huntsman - was intent on carving out the heart from his very chest. So he couldn't just lay here and let him do it.

He needed to act.

He needed to act and act fast. There had to be something he could do and the first step was to focus and get out of his own head. That was hard considering everything. He didn't want to hurt him. He didn't want to hurt Rorahm-Saheer more than he already had apparently. He didn't know how to make this up to him but if he let him take his life now then when his memory returned -

Oh how it would destroy his beloved brother later.

Power through the pain Seejvariil, this is not where you die. This is not where you fall. There is work to be done and now it will be for as much Rorahm's sake as it was for Wonderland. He'd find a way to fix this if it took him the rest of time.

And unbeknownst to Rorahm - this one Little Moon was more than aware that they had it.

So his right arm is raising to clamp down on a wrist he is expecting to feel far thicker than it was. He can feel bone resting under flesh just beneath the pads of his fingers and it's haunting.

Stop thinking about it.

How can he not though? The moon's light shining down to reveal the hollowed out corpse of a man made reaper come to drag this stray ghost all the way back to hell - back home with him. Did Rorahm think of this as a suicide mission? Did he think they would simply die together this way? That if one of their souls should pass from this plane they may as well do so together so their painful pas de deux can carry out through eternity?

It isn't just a skeletal hand that is desperately fighting against him in order from this wolf to did his heart out from his chest with his crimson tooth - but his mind reels in for enough of a moment to allow the prince to realize the sensation of the body over him is all wrong. Knees digging into his waist with too much bone as legs feel less like padded flesh and more like that of a skeleton having dug himself up from his earthy grave in order to drag its counter back to the endless sleep with him.

Rorahm might have died but he had risen again in order to drag Seejvariil down to a special place made just for the Moon to finally rest with the Sun.

But these two celestial giants where only meant to dance. Never were they to rest together.

Didn't Rorahm know that?

The swordsman is pushing back on his Other's arm with all his strength to stop the man of Black Wind's from splitting him own wide. He's pushing back while his left hand rustles against the pebble and grass until he feels like he's gathered up enough of the soil to lift his injured arm only to toss the earth directly at the Wind's face and his unshielded right eye.

It's enough of a break to squirm. It's enough of a jerk for the Wind to lose focus and the Cloud manages to draw is left leg out of it's makeshift prison enough to pull that powerful limb all the way up to his chest just so the small built prince can kick forward towards the gunman that pins him.

"GET OFF ME!"

He's screaming at the top of his lungs as Mist pours of our him in plumes once more. As soon as his attacker is knocked backwards, he's rolling back to his knees in attempt to get to Maken once more. But his body has a different plan. His stomach is shifting at the sudden motions and he can feel his entire form tremble when he chokes for a moment right before emptying the contents of his stomach on the forest floor.

He's in so much pain. His head and nose are in a violent war for his attention and his composure and equilibrium are their causalities. His arm is the by stander that only works to add fuel to the fire and now his ankle was joining the fight. Did Black Wind break it when he drug him? He wouldn't be surprised. If anything it's twisted for sure.

He needs to get away from him. He can't focus on the mess he just created and the mess he's corroding into further by the second. He's been in more pain than this in his life. He's been in more -

The entire world is swaying to one side and then the other but he needs to get to the Maken. He cannot leave without the Maken, so he needs to get to it before all else. He'll crawl if he has to - so be it.

Whatever it takes.

This wasn't his time to die.

Back at the underground den, that accursed sword would have lopped his limbs clean off were he to so much as reach for snowy fabric. But now, it was different. Now, neither of their Demon Weapons were listening. Their gods have abandoned them, here in this deep and suffocating darkness - they were alone.

Alone.

And nobody was coming to save either of them.

There was a moment of panic, the running hare turning its head around to gaze upon the wolf breathing down its neck - a stray branch smacking into a horned head and throwing off his prey's balance. The Windarian's fingers buried themselves in the back of the Cloud's cape, and he tugged.

There was a crash as they both tumbled to the ground, shared momentum causing an explosion of dirt to rise up from the forest floor. There was a grunt of pain as the gunmage felt his body collide with the ground, and he spat out the slick glob of blood pooling from his pierced tongue. It painted the edges of his mouth in jagged black brushstrokes.

His head was pounding in tune with the Magun's core - so much he could swear it was ready to burst at a moment's notice. It was more than just hatred he felt. The feeling that surged through his form in agonizing waves was blinding - making an unidentifiable sludge of his memories and thoughts, scrambling his very identity and motives. Briefly, the panicked Windarian scoured the corrupted recesses of his brain for Her face - Her eyes and name eluding him, as though dissolved in thick mist. He could feel it all slipping from his grasp, now, slick like wet entrails spilling from a wound.

All he knew... him and the prey lying, dazed, on the ground beside him; They were both killers. And he took - everything -

Everything -

THAT DREG TOOK EVERYTHING FROM HIM.

With tarlike blood trailing down the length of his neck, Kaze let out a gargling growl, the digits of his remaining hand all but drilling into the prince's closer ankle. A vice-like grip of steel, nearly strong enough to shatter bone. Beneath his bestial embrace, contending with the strength of the Misterican's leg - pale skin would bruise and bloom in crimson. With every muscle in his body twitching and shaking in the throes of some wicked disease of the mind, the corpse that remained of Black Wind pulled hard, dragging the Demon Swordsman on the forest floor.

With Orthrus dropped in the confusion, the madman's hand reached for the hilt of his dagger, unsheathing a trembling blade of crimson. His eyes hurt, he could almost feel the reddish black flood his vision - but there was a job to be done. He was so close, so close now - that wretch would never escape, even if they both had to destroy one another.

With a speed and strength almost unnatural for his broken state, he seized White Cloud's form, attempting to straddle him to lock down the warrior's powerful legs. The blade of Geryon rose into the air, a twisted grimace of boiling wrath warping the once-proud Windarian's features.

"Fucking die!"

And he struck. Something wild and untameable, devoid of reason; the tip of the blade aiming just beneath the Cloud's sternum. A stab meant to slot directly between his quarry's lungs and drag lower, down to the bottom of the abdomen, and with a fleeting twang of disgust and confusion he realized he had done this before.

A hit to the chest would be instant -

Such hateful, senseless violence, but there was more than simply a need to kill. This was a need to cause pain, to maim and mutilate, an act of a being of pure Chaos. Yet, even as his body moved of its own accord, the Wind could not recall nor understand to whom - or to what - that name belonged.

Then again, in that very moment, he could no longer even recall the meanings behind the names "Black Wind" and "White Cloud".

[wolfchans]

BANG CHAN ♡ LOVE YOUR W EVENT

[shiroi---kumo]

Go ahead BURY ME 🪦🪦🪦

I will not STAY DEAD

[alchemic-elric]

Invasive Asks || Accepting

Anonymous asked:

△ Would you try to reconcile with your blood father if he came back begging on his hands and knees?

"This is like'a two n' Fuck no. 'coz I don't owe'im that. I don't owe anybody that. Fuck'em. 'e abandoned m' n' you think I should make amends with'im jus' 'coz 'e said sorry? No. Fuck that. Fuck that n' fuck'im. 'e left us n' we coulda DIED. Once Mom died, we could a too n' 'e 'inn't give two fucks enough ta check. We're his fuckin' kids but whatever 'e had goin' on was more important than us.

That's fuckin' nasty. That's fuckin' vile. No, fuck'im. We mighta been able ta help Mom if 'is dumbass nev'r left. No good rotten piece'a'shit good fer nu'hin' worthless piece'a'garbage. Fuck'im.

You wanna know how I feel? Abandoned. Left behind. Worthless. Nev'r good enough. Sat by the wayside. Unimportant. 'is own kids weren't good enough ta rank in 'is book n' the only reason we survived is. 'coz'a Grams. That's why weren't alive. Pinako Rockbell.

Fuck Hohenheim. 'e nev'r wanted us so why the FUCK should I want'im?! I don't need 'im n' I nev'r fuckin' will. Ev'r. I don't really give a fuck if 'e begs m'. Sayin' sorry is only one step'a the fuckin' process. Saying sorry is admission of fault. Changed behavior is the real fuckin' apology n' 'e ain't got enough time in the world to make m' feel as abandoned as I do.

We were kids! 'is kids n' we got HURT n' where was 'e?! No where. Yer suppos'ta give a shit when yer loved ones git hurt but 'e couldn't b' bothered ta ev'n come back n' check if we were okay! 'e jus' assumed 'e could dump us with Mom n' then waltz back inta our lives like 'e didn't jus' spit in our faces. No. Fuck'im. Fuck that.

Hohenheim wants back in our lives? Then maybe 'e should b' a fuckin' adult 'bout it n' own up fer what 'e did. I have ev'ry right to be angry n' ain't no one gunna take that from m'. 'e abandoned us n' no matter what 'e was off doin' ain't ev'r gunna change that fact."

[aromanticofficial]

YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT FOREVER!!!! YOU DON'T NEED TO ASK PERMISSION TO EXIST I PROMISE YOU PLEASE

[schizopositivity]

It sucks so much that as someone with a severe and persistent mental illness it's MY responsibility to jump through hoops and be proactive in contacting people at limited times of the day just to get MY MEDS THAT I'VE BEEN TAKING CONSISTENTLY FOR YEARS

[pinkfestivalpeanuttree]

HERO????

[feelingemotjons]

STOP DEPICTING FAT PEOPLE AS RICH ASSHOLES

STOP DEPICTING FAT PEOPLE AS LOUD AND "ANNOYING"

STOP DEPICTING FAT PEOPLE AS GROOMERS/PEDOPHILES

STOP DEPICTING FAT PEOPLE AS STALKERS/CREEPS

STOP DEPICTING FAT PEOPLE AS "DISGUSTING" AND "UNLOVEABLE"

STOP DEPICTING FAT PEOPLE AS "ANNOYING" THIRDWHEELS

STOP DEPICTING FAT PEOPLE AS BIGOTS

STOP DEPICTING FAT PEOPLE AS SELFISH AND RUDE

STOP DEPICTING CONFIDENT FAT PEOPLE AS "PICK MES" OR "WEIRDOS"

AND FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP MAKING YOUR FAT CHARACTERS LOSE WEIGHT FOR THEM TO HAVE A "HAPPY ENDING"

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

apparently mutual group mass suicide starts now