kingdomoftyto

[kingdomoftyto]

@yuraina00 I still have no idea what I have to draw at all but I tried my best (?) 👍🏻

[kingdomoftyto]

The new FNAF game had me rewatching the movie and it just hit me that the FNAF movie is a better Lilo and Stitch than the live action Lilo and Stitch

[kingdomoftyto]

POV: you're a soul

[kingdomoftyto]

Tumblr did not “Goncharov” Poob. Poob is Glupp Shittoing Tubi/Pluto/Roku Channel/Hulu/etc.

[kingdomoftyto]

Teen LGBT Squad

Another Hometar Runner fancomic for pride month, this time starring the Teen Girl Squad.

This was mostly an excuse to make that “ow mein kampf” joke

[kingdomoftyto]

connection established

[friend had a realization about ch1 in light of the reveals and i wrote this thing bc i was sad.]

“Tonight,” the voice over the phone says, wrapped in clouds of static and cold wind. “The school. It’s time.”

Kris hesitates for a moment, feeling the weight of the phone in their hand. “So, the–the connection, that’s when–”

“Correct.” Cold, clipped. “You know what to do.”

There’s a click on the other end and the line goes dead.

They stare at the black screen for a long few moments - then they clear out their call history with a few quick taps. When that's done, the phone falls from their hand onto the bed.

Somewhere a million miles away, their mom is calling them down for dinner.

With legs that feel like lead, they climb to their feet, heading out of the room.

On the way, they kick the wagon, making the birdcage rattle.

It doesn’t make them feel any better.

—

Red light floods their dreams. They toss and turn, lapsing in and out of sleep, and each time they wake up it’s gasping and clawing at their chest. Only exhaustion finally sends them crashing down, down, into the red, and–

“Kris!” someone calls. “Kris, if you do not wake up, we will be late for school!”

They open their eyes.

They know.

It’s not paralysis, like they had feared. They can feel their limbs, still, even shift them into a more comfortable position. They can tilt their head to look at their mom as she talks on and on about going to school. They can breathe, blink, exist.

It just feels like every action comes from a million miles away. Like they have to force everything through layer after layer of inertia and stillness. And then–

Then it moves them for the first time as they climb out of bed, and it is easy and natural and shifts their limbs as if they weren’t there at all.

They’d braced themself, of course. Told themself again and again that it was worth it, for the plan. For her. For everyone. They’d even wished for it to hurry some nights, when all they could do on their own was lay motionless and miserable on the bed. Surely anything else running their life would be a comfort.

But every motion that comes without their will, every forced direction to stare at their own lamp or Asriel’s bed or the cage in the corner, every time they try on instinct to head for the door and find their weak will overridden by another before they even have time to lift their leg–

They feel nauseated. They want to double over and scream. They want to dig the thing out of their chest and throw it into the cage and never see it again, to call and say the promise is off, to do anything but this.

Their hand twitches at their side a few times, but they can’t muster the strength to lift it.

Still, they’re made to go downstairs, to stare around their own bathroom and kitchen and living room like they’ve never seen any of it before, to go outside with steady steps. (Their legs should be shaking. Their teeth should be clenched. They keep trying, they keep trying–)

“Kris! There you are!” their mother calls, bright and cheerful. They wonder, for a moment, if she’ll see, she’ll know, but she just smiles. “We might still be able to make it!”

Did they even tell her they love her, last night?

Did they think about her at all?

They climb into the car, and they are given the freedom to lean their head against the window as their mother talks on and on about nothing at all.

They promised, they know. They’ll hold to it. They know that now, with everything begun, there will be only a few days like this, and then–

They can bear it.

They will bear it.

There’s nothing they have that’s worth finding the strength to fight, anyways.

They let themself sink into a numb haze, deep in their self, and they wonder if they’ll ever emerge again.

—

The King gestures, spade-shaped light flying through the air faster than they can track.

They force will into their legs before they can think, call their shield to their arm and lift it, hear the echo as the bullets slam in.

“Kris…?” Susie says, somewhere far behind them.

Despite themself, despite everything, even as the bullets crash into them from above and they feel their will drained away again–

They smile, a little, even as they fall.

[kingdomoftyto]

One of my neighbors has two freaky dogs. Creepy, uncanny dogs. Two dogs which move like a single entity in two bodies. Anzu is freaked out by them. Their owner looks beleaguered by them. Whenever I see them she has the exhausted affect of an overworked domestic servant. It looks like she is in charge of two elven princes who have been cursed to take canine form. They often look as if they’re planning to eat smaller dogs, but never bark, even while standing up on their hind legs or stalking other dogs down the sidewalk, which of course makes them creepier.

I was extremely confident in my breed ID on these dogs but tonight they came close enough without Anzu barking at THEM, I was like, for due diligence and my own satisfaction I will ask. “Are they basenjis?”

The owner, being dragged in opposite directions on two leashes like the victim of a terrible Roman torture, gasped “yes” with the faintest of breaths. And then her dogs carried her away

[kingdomoftyto]

Someone was asking in a thread what kind of people could work for ICE right now.

I think it's a good time to remember that the image above are the people who put children into gas chambers.

When I was little, I asked what kind of person could work at a concentration camp.

The answer to both questions I think is "normal people who have accepted the dehumanization of another group of people."

[kingdomoftyto]

I’ve always wanted to draw what I think the various Deltarune weapons look like, and I figure why not start with the swords!

The Twisted Sword - The Axes - The Scarfs - The Rings

[kingdomoftyto]

Komodo Dragon

[kingdomoftyto]

Tenna watch out for the thirst comments

[kingdomoftyto]

solidarity with california.

[kingdomoftyto]

at a conference I attended recently, a researcher pointed to the difficulty of finding material in archives because so much depends on the metadata and the terminology used to describe things changes over time. "it would be so helpful," the researcher said, "if I typed 'lesbian' into the library of congress database, it would also show me results that were categorised in the 50s, when the materials were interpreted as 'intimate female friendships'"

which is what tag wrangles at Archive Of Our Own do incredibly effectively: searching for "omegaverse" also leads to "alpha/beta/omega dynamics" and "alternate universe: a/b/o" and so on. but ao3 achieves this frankly incredible categorisation and indexing system by the power of countless volunteers putting in hours and hours of unpaid and unthanked free time, and it's completely understandable that most archives do not have that kind of infrastructure, but also how incredible that a fan-run website has better searchability, classification, and accessibility than the library of congress

[kingdomoftyto]

Happy 10th birthday to the best tweet of all time.

[kingdomoftyto]

[kingdomoftyto]

~Just Kris Things~

A few of my favorite things Kris does by themselves with no input from us.

Including of course Susie and them being amazing.

larger spoiler under the cut tho

hearing about this from Noelle in the Weird Route broke me.