#guess who had some inspiration?

[egginfroggin]

The same words can be said many different ways.

Ingo is very familiar with this.

(Notes for self-deprecation, self-blame, self-isolation, hints of minor self-harm in the form of coping mechanisms such as nail-biting, and grief below)

"It's your fault." That was what his thoughts whispered, hissing at him in a cacophony of angry Sevipers, as he cradled Emmet's head and shoulders, his little brother's ever-burning warmth chilled to embers, frost dusting his white-streaked hair. Guilt almost choked him half to death, nearly stole his voice as he screamed for their parents.

-----

"It was your fault," he told himself, even when his parents wouldn't, even though Emmet had almost died and had a hole in his memories surrounding that wretched incident.

-----

"It was your fault," he snapped at his reflection, lonely tears balanced on the edges of his eyelids, lip wobbling stubbornly. He wasn't a child anymore, but here he was, crying about missing his little brother when he had only himself to blame.

-----

"It was your fault," he thought silently, shoulders hitching as he sat on the floor, arms wrapped around himself in a facsimile of an embrace. He missed touch. He didn't want to be touched. He missed it. He shouldn't.

-----

"It was your fault," his thoughts tutted as he saw Emmet, halfway across the room at the banquet, his twin's face lighting up at the sight of him despite what he'd done -- of course, Emmet didn't remember, so he wouldn't know to hate him, would he? Instead of facing him, he excused himself and ran back to his room, where Litwick sat on her hearth, waiting for him.

-----

"It was your fault," the reminder said as he dug his fingers into his arms, listening to Emmet quietly cry on the other side of the door, wanting to throw the door open and hug him, tell him that it would be okay, that he was sorry for leaving him alone -- but he didn't, just like he didn't go to the funeral, still too scared and dangerous to leave.

-----

"It was your fault," his thoughts tittered, Nimbasa far behind him, snow soft against his legs and the icy mountain air a balm to his flushed cheeks. He couldn't go back. Not now. Not when they knew about him, not after he almost hurt people -- hurt Emmet -- again. Maybe he'd never go back, even if he could, because everyone knew how merciless the mountains were.

-----

"It was your fault," he reminded himself one last time, looking up at the Dragon that loomed over him, plates of long-undisturbed ice crackling as it lowered its head to his level. He couldn't forget it, even if Death was staring him in the face. He would never forget it, even though it was washed away briefly when Kyurem offered him a deal instead of ending his life then and there.

-----

"It was your fault," he remembered, Emmet's snappish, "Make me leave, then, if you do not want me here so badly," echoing in his ears like the creaking of ice around them. He could feel hairline cracks spreading, ice threatening to break like his emotions, and he reined them in, spat out ice along with a simple, "Fine, then."

-----

"It was your fault," he thought, unable to think much else as the reality sunk in and he stared at the gaping hole in the ice floor, leading down, down, down into a crevice between the cliffs. His fingers dug into his hair, uneven nails scraping his scalp, reopening every scabbed-over quick as he clung to the thought that the powder was soft, a cushion, and Emmet had been dropped into the middle of it.

-----

"It was your fault?" he said, inflection failing him, voice barely more than a breath. It almost died against the creak of Kyurem's ice before the Dragon fell still, head lowered in something approaching shame.

"This was your fault?" he said, voice mounting in volume, forced from his lungs -- something burned, seared inside his chest, a pressure that built and built and built until, like hot glass plunged into water, it broke and something approaching a scream tore from his throat, a demand for answers, for retribution, for everything he lost to be returned to him, an impossibility.

Ice shuddered in his chest, snapping the rapidly fraying tie between them, and he could see his eyes reflected in Kyurem's, silver touched with sulfur-gold as lonesome cold rushed and every fractal of ice around them shattered.

"You made me like this on purpose?"

[echo-starflower]

I FINISHED THE GUY!!!!!!

(Pattern by @ghost-cinnamon)

He’s perfect and I love him

But Echo! some of you might ask, isn’t the body supposed to be red like his bones? To that I say! 1: I’m impressed you saw it under the layers of clothes! /silly and 2!

BAH BAM

Embroidery!!!!! (I’m so proud of this hehe it turned out way better than I expected. Also faceless doll jumpscare>:3)

And of course, credit must be given to my amazing little sibling whose immediate reaction to seeing my doll was “ooo he’s spooky! He needs a top hat!!!!”

(She proceeded to make not one but two top hats hehe)

[mc-tummy-blur]

Serious Lightbearer DLC fanart this time featuring another iDKHOW song SATANIC PANIC

As it’s based off of this picture of Dallon Weekes (creator of iDKHOW):

Click for better quality

Check my pinned post to see links on how you can help the people of Palestine

[undercat-overdog]

There is more to Tolkien's work than his Catholicism.

I think there's a general tendency in many areas of fandom - fandom broadly, I'm also think academic work and reddit; this post isn't aimed at tumblr fandom specifically. in fact probably a bit more aimed at reddit but there was no precipitating incident that's leading me to write this. Anyways, a general tendency to over-weight the influence of Christianity in his work? Especially when it comes to finding allegories (Andreth talking about her people's beliefs in the Athrabeth is the only thing I think that is one, and Tolkien in his notes talked about how it was too Christian and wanted to change it), but more generally too. And sometimes I think Catholicism is brought into the text in ways that really aren't there. Idk.

Also... I think there is a way that him himself as a creator is. Hmm. I don't want to say under-discussed because it's not. But his work is more than the sum of his influences?

[fiona-fififi]

...

[sysig]

Hazing (Patreon)

[driftsart]

No one asked but if my tf au took place in the Zelda botw/aoc/totk world, Megs would be a goron, Starscream would be a rito, Soundwave would be a gerudo (but a guy), and Shockwave would be sheikah.

[bubblegumr1ck]

My tic (singular for now, let's hope it stays that way) is annoying me, so you know what. Curse be upon ye. I now headcanon that Rick and Morty both have tics.

Rick's vary wildly and every time he "fixes" one another one develops. They couldn't possibly be caused by his stress or anxiety, no—he's convinced they're all caused by his implants and that he can eventually fix them all. He's forever stuck in the denial/bargaining phase until he sees Morty struggling too and feeling othered by Rick's efforts to "fix" himself.

Rick's tics mostly include jerking motions, weird leg/arm movements. This sometimes includes violent actions like punching; not so bad when he's out on adventures or by himself, but terrible when he's sitting at the table with his family eating breakfast or dinner. More rarely is he affected by making repetitive sounds or consistent facial tics but when those happen he isolates himself more.

Morty's tics are caused by his anxiety but no matter what he does they never really go away. Loud lights, sudden sounds, and caffeine tend to trigger them.

Morty's tics are facial. Eye-flinching, grimacing, the works. One time, it looked like he was winking at Jessica and Brad wasn't very happy about that. Over time he's gotten better at disguising them, but they still make him feel awkward.

Once Rick accepted that ticks were just a fact of life and started supporting Morty, they both felt much less alone.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

HAPPY (late) BIRTHDAY @zu-is-here!!!!

i can't believe i missed your b-day again!! i had to make you something this year and so why not draw the bean the legend, the sweetest baby ever as a gift!!! >:Dc

thank you so much for all of your sweet words and making your blog one of the most comforting places to be at!! hope you're having an amazing day<3333

[iiboronii]

i think that i might've posted about it before but i <3 all the little -ler blogs on here. i'm being so fr. nothing clears my skin more than seeing a -ler blog answering questions. i love you guys please keep making silly little -lers.

[b1gwings]

swashbuckler rogue my beloved

[the-dragon-girl-27]

u watch naruto?

nope and i have very minimal knowledge of it lol

[jessiescock]

I've officially reached net zero information on the kimba controversy. Like wow i love the lion king let's see what other people on the internet have to say about it! Oh no looks like they ripped off some Japanese kids show for this huh that sucks. Wait up tho upon further inspection it looks like they just took some heavy inspiration from it but marketing purposefully obfuscated that so while this is most likely not as bad as it seems at first it's still kind of sucks they did that. Wait actually these scenes that everyone cites as too similar to the lion king are actually from a movie that was released 3 three years after the lion king. Ok but apparently this movie has been stuck in development since the 80s bcs disney purposefully sabotaged it so it wouldn't compete with their movie. Wait actually this is apparently a totally unsubstantiated claim with no proof. I guess all that happened here is that there's two franchises that are about cartoon lions being the rulers of something. Now that's not very exciting is it

[magentagalaxies]

on the note of kith season 6 (didn't want to derail the other post but have been thinking about this lately): one of the only things i disliked - or, rather, that felt off about the revival - was how crisp everything felt in terms of the aesthetic. like ik filmmaking technology has evolved since 1994 and they couldn't do the live studio audience even tho they wanted to bc of covid, but idk the original series despite clearly working with cbc and hbo always had this diy energy, vs the new season just very much felt like oh this is a corporate thing that was location scouted and filmed on a lot

but what's interesting about this fault is that you look into anything else the kids in the hall have made themselves in the past decades and it still has that exact diy aesthetic, sometimes unintentionally but that's the best part. like, i'm the most familiar with scott's works for obvious reasons, but you look at something like contemporary mouth congress music videos or any other video project scott's made just bc he wanted to make it and you can see obvious green screens, the fact that it was clearly filmed on an iPhone, using stuff around the house as props, etc. and if you look at bruce's youtube channel you get that sense as well, and it's so delightful to see bc yeah this comedy isn't a corporate entity, it's just something these guys have to make bc they are passionate about it

anyway i guess what i'm saying is if they ever decide to do another kith revival season they should have paul bellini direct it on his iphone 5 and film 99% of it at the toronto library's green screen room

idk maybe this post is too niche bc a lot of the stuff i'm citing (i.e. mouth congress music videos) hasn't actually been released yet and also i have literally been on these diy sets in the past year where someone just set up a pop-up greenscreen in their living room and my "job" is to make sure the pets don't wander into frame. but yeah idk i find it very funny that watching the revival my only complaint was the lack of that genuine diy spirit and then one year later i'm part of that type of production

[windfighter]

Can you tell I don't care about football?

The title isn't even a title. I just really don't care about football and this is the second??? third??? time I use it to hurt this blorbo. Enjoy x3

Prompt: Blurry vision | Support | ”I think I need to sit down”

-----

Kouji stumbled. The world spun around him, out of focus. His head hurt. The air was thick and heavy and hard to get into his lungs. His heart banged against his ribcage. Quick beats like a woodpecker. An arm wrapped around his waist.

”You okay?”

Kouichi. Kouji leaned against him, blinked. Okay wasn’t… the right word.

”Think I’m sick”, he mumbled.

He waved a hand infront of his face. He could see it, but the edges were blurry. It probably meant something.

”World’s…”

He didn’t quite find the words to explain. Was too tired. His heart beat too loudly. Why did he come along to the park to begin with? His body tilted forwards and he didn’t have energy to fight it. Kouichi tugged at him, tried to get him to stay standing. It wouldn’t work.

”...think I need to sit down”, Kouji said.

Kouichi tugged at him again. Turned around a bit. Kouji had no idea what he was searching for.

”Alright, let’s get you seated down”, Kouichi said.

He took a step. Kouji tried to lift a foot, but his knees buckled. Hit the ground. Kouji’s head spun worse. He leaned forwards, hands against the grass. Closed his eyes. He could hear the others come closer as well. Izumi, Junpei, Tomoki and Takuya. He opened his eyes, but they didn’t want to stay open.

Why had he come along to the park?

A hand was placed on his shoulder, someone shook him. Sounds were starting to be just as blurry as his vision.

”Let’s get him lying down”, Junpei said. ”And get some water into him.”

Lying down sounded nice. Kouji leaned to the side, let gravity do the job of pulling him down. Hands turned him over, put him on his back. He blinked, but his eyes still didn’t want to stay open.

”Takuya, go get your bag”, Kouichi said.

Soft steps as Takuya ran away, returned. Something soft was placed under Kouji’s legs. The bag. They pulled his bandana off, put a wet towel across his forehead. His head slowly started cooperating again.

”Sorry”, he whispered.

”You have a fever”, Kouichi said.

Kouji wasn’t sure how Kouichi knew, but he nodded.

”You woke up with a fever”, Kouichi repeated, ”and decided that playing football sounded like a good idea.”

Kouji frowned. When Kouichi put it like that it made him sound like an absolute moron. He opened his eyes. The world was in focus.

”I didn’t think it was this bad?” he tried.

”You almost fainted”, Junpei said. ”That’s pretty bad.”

Kouji rubbed his eyes, yawned. Tried to sit up. Takuya put a foot on his shoulder.

”You’re not getting up until we’re sure you’re fine.”

Kouji felt small where he was on his back, with Takuya, Izumi and Tomoki towering above him. At least Junpei and Kouichi had the sense to sit down. He turned towards Kouichi.

”I’m fine, promise.”

Fine was an exaggeration, but the air didn’t feel as thick any longer. Kouichi looked at him, put his head in his hands and shook it.

”Fine, sit up if you want to.”

Takuya took his foot off Kouji’s shoulder, took a step back. Kouji stayed on the ground. He took a shaky breath. Tomoki sat down.

”Are you thirsty?” he asked.

”I’m not helpless”, Kouji answered.

”No, but are you thirsty?”

Kouji snorted. His throat felt dry.

”A bit”, he admitted.

Tomoki disappeared out of Kouji’s field of view, rummaged around in the bag under his legs. A bottle was placed in Kouji’s hand and Kouji took a few sips out of it. The water was cool despite the sun shining on them. Kouji closed his eyes and put the bottle on the ground again.

”...call mom or dad?” he asked.

He wasn’t helpless but his head still felt a bit weird and he wasn’t sure he could muster the words to explain to his parents what happened. Kouichi squeezed his shoulder, took the phone from his pocket. Kouji listened as Kouichi explained what had happened. Someone took the towel from Kouji’s forehead, rewetted it and put it back. They talked quietly, Kouji didn’t listen. He was almost drifting off.

”Mama’s on the way”, Kouichi said. ”How are you feeling?”

”Tired?” Kouji suggested.

He put a hand on his chest, massaged it. His heart felt like it was trying to escape through his ribcage. Kouichi frowned.

”Is it pneumonia?”

Kouji shook his head.

”Heart’s still racing”, he said. ”It’s uncomfortable.”

”Are you having a fucking heart attack?!”

Kouichi’s suddenly louder voice made Kouji’s head pound again. He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head.

”I’m too young for a heart attack”, he said with a laugh.

”Young people can get heart attacks too, especially if they decide to work out when they have a fever.”

”Really feel like you’re scolding me now.”

He pushed himself into a sitting position. The towel fell to the ground next to him. His head spun, but not as bad as earlier. He put his hands in his lap, kicked the bag to the side. Took a few deep breaths to try and get his speeding heart under control. He hadn’t expected it to get this bad.

”It’s not a heart attack”, he repeated.

Kouichi opened his mouth to protest. Kouji was so tired. He leaned forwards, put his head in his hands.

”No, really, it’s not. Mom’s taught me the signs in case dad would get one.”

Kouichi sighed. Moved closer and sat down right next to Kouji.

”...okay then. Think you can walk to the parking lot?”

Kouji hesitated. Maybe. The thought of standing up sounded like a chore. He put a hand on the ground.

”Have to”, he answered.

Because he did, didn’t he? Mom wouldn’t be able to carry him there and he wasn’t helpless. Just a little sick and tired. He got his feet under himself, pushed himself up. The world spun. His head exploded. Someone wrapped an arm around his waist and put his arm over their shoulders.

”Easy there.”

Takuya. Kouji’s legs trembled. But he wasn’t falling back down. Success? He leaned against Takuya. Takuya laughed.

”Need me to carry you?”

”Don’t think I’m that sick”, Kouji said.

Kouichi stood up, grabbed Kouji's hand and pressed two fingers against his wrist. Kouji blinked, stared at him. There was a frown on Kouichi’s face.

”If you can carry him, please do”, Kouichi said.

He let go of Kouji, shook his head. Crossed his arms over his chest. Kouji rolled his eyes.

”That’s almost as high as your exercise pulse.”

”I have been working out”, Kouji said.

”Yeah, but it’ll usually be normal by now.”

Kouichi had that irritating know-it-all voice he got when he knew better than Kouji. Kouji rolled his eyes again and tried to take a step. Takuya followed, but Kouji’s legs didn’t quite want to carry him, his lungs didn’t quite want to get enough air. His chest hurt and his pulse sped up. He clenched his hand around Takuya’s shirt. Why did he get out of bed?

Takuya laughed, took a better grip around Kouji’s waist before leaning down. His other arm behind Kouji’s knees and the world tilted. Kouji stared at the sky. Well, this was stupid. The whole situation was stupid. He put his head on Takuya’s shoulder, released a frustrated breath.

”Just this once”, he said.

”Just this once”, Takuya agreed.

Kouji closed his eyes, counted his heartbeats as Takuya walked. Way too high, but he wouldn’t admit that if he could avoid it. Mom would know what to do. He pressed a hand against his chest. Next time he was sick he’d just stay in bed until he was better.

Yeah, no, that was a lie. He wouldn’t and he knew it.

Takuya stopped. Kouji blinked, looked around. Already at the parking lot. Takuya let go of Kouji’s legs, lowered him onto a bench. Kouji rubbed his eyes, leaned forwards. His head pounded to the beat of his heart and his stomach was starting to protest as well.

”How…” he started. Swallowed. ”How do I look?”

He hoped it didn’t come across as flirtatious. That Takuya wouldn’t answer in a flirtatious manner. He needed to know.

”Like death walked over you”, Kouichi answered.

”Yeah…”

Kouji pulled his hands across his face. Leaned back and closed his eyes. He felt like it too. He heard a car pull up, the door open. What sounded like mom’s shoes against asphalt. A hand against his knee, Kouichi’s awkward greeting. Kouji opened his eyes. Mom. She looked at him, grabbed his hand. Put two fingers against his wrist in a gesture he wasn’t supposed to notice. She frowned and Kouji agreed.

”Hey”, she said. ”Ready to go?”

She didn’t mean home, he could see it in her eyes. But they didn’t need to worry the others. He nodded, reached for Takuya. Takuya pulled him up, held him as he stumbled to the car. Mom opened the door to the passenger seat and Kouji sank down in it. Buckled up before leaning back, closing his eyes and listening to his heart pounding in his ears.

”Can I come with you?” Kouichi asked.

Their voices sounded far away, from the other side of an iron door. Kouji leaned the seat back a little. He was starting to feel dizzy.

”I’m sorry, Kouichi. Not this time. We’ll call you later, I promise.”

”From the hospital”, Kouji slurred because his brain was an asshole and decided to let it slip.

He really wasn’t feeling well. Cartoonish noises left Kouichi, or maybe it was just Kouji’s brain playing trick on him. Someone closed the door on his side, he couldn’t tell who from behind his closed eyelids. The darkness was nice though. Soft. Silent.

...they should probably have called an ambulance.

The engine roared to life and the car shook. Kouji pressed a hand against his mouth, then let it fall down. He was drained. Mom squeezed his knee, or was he imagining, and then the car jerked as mom pressed the gas pedal down. Kouji slid against the window. It was cool, released some of the ache behind his forehead. He sighed.

If whatever was wrong didn’t kill him, Kouichi would.