#its...barely angst...

[hinamie]

Another blog noticed that Megumis scars are on the same position as Heian!Sukuna. And it's true! By that logic he should have scars under his armpits and on his belly (second arms and second mouth). You drawing it would be interesting

shoutout 2 megumi for making up fr all of yuuji's scars i no longer get to draw

[dragonsbluee]

Is it just me who took a while to realize just how heavy on the angst TCF is? Mostly because our wonderful (unreliable) narrator Cale just has this nonchalant tone about everything.

Cale: oh you know, I just watched the literal apocalypse start, lived through it for years, my best friends/brothers all but blood died before my eyes, and now I'm in a whole new world where I've built a family that is being threatened by the same apocalypse and worse. Also, turns out my life was shit before I came here becuase I was dealing with the consequences of some bastard's curse since he stole my original body.

Readers: wait, what.

Cale: oh yeah, I'm deeply traumatized, but I'm not going to admit it to anyone unless I'm literally forced to by a god (derogetory). And my friends keep having to watch me sacrifice myself, throw up blood, or put myself in other really dangerous situations.

Reader: ummmm. Can we circle back around to any of that?

Cale: no.

[arsenicflame]

Izzy's never had any social media- why the fuck would he?- but there is a facebook account out there with his name, made for him by Ed back in the days when it was the hot new thing, and everyone had to have a facebook account. Theres a sum total of three posts on there;

The first two, made when Ed opened the account, marking that he changed his profile picture (Ed's favourite of them, armoured in leather but grinning at each other, full of love, like theres nothing else that matters in the world), and that Ed changed his relationship status now Izzy has an account- "Edward Teach is married to Izzy Hands"

The only other post, made more than a decade later, is Ed changing his relationship status to single.

[stiffyck]

I keep thinking about my scar design and how big the difference between him and tcd scar is.

Tcd scar is a scrawny kid who's clothes are way too big for him and who barely has anything to eat and who's covered in old bandages

Vs current scar who has well fitting clothes and has enough food and isn't malnourished and who's not just surviving but living his life and doing what he wanted

[fandombead]

For Those Who Have Mourned Me

Hello!! This is my submission for Anaroceit Shipweek's prompt: Apology.

Summary: Virgil returns home after a quest to retrieve an invaluable gift for his partners takes far longer than he'd anticipated. How will they receive him? How could they forgive him after disappearing for 2 years? (note: Fantasy AU! Heads up for angst, this is hurt/comfort)

WC: ~3k || It’s on AO3! @anaroceitweek ! *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Apology

Virgil had no idea how he was going to explain himself. There wasn’t much he could say that would make this day easier. But he’d been psyching himself up for weeks and he was here now. But would they want him back?

Virgil stopped walking as the quiet forest opened into a grassy clearing. 

He felt faint as he stared up at the little cottage backed to the stream on the other side. He clutched his walking stick hard to stay standing, exhaustion and longing and heartache battling it out in his chest. Guilt rose from his stomach and made him feel sick. His magic sparked at his fingertips from the increasing anxiety and he could only grip his satchel to his chest, protecting thd thing he’d fought so hard to retrieve. That would make a world of difference and change all of their lives for the better. He had to believe it would, or else this was all for nothing. 

They…they’d accept him back, wouldn’t they? Once they knew why he’d been gone so long. He could explain it to them, and he’d do anything for them to apologize, to be pulled into their embrace, and he’d never leave it again if the asked it of him. If they wanted to hold him again. 

Tears pricked at his eyes but he wasn’t allowed to cry over this. He had no right to. It didn’t matter how much he’d missed them or how many times in the months it took to get back to them that he wanted to give up the quest. He should have told them. He didn’t know he’d be gone this long, but he should have. 

The sun was nearly gone behind him, casting long shadows of the trees on the house. 

A light was on in their sitting room by the garden. Attention drawn to prolong the inevitable, it looked like they’d planted the new crops already in his absence. He wondered if Roman had helped Jan in his place this year. And last year. 

He wanted to go in and hold them. He just wanted them to understand: prayed to whoever would listen that they’d understand why. Did he have the right to call this his home anymore after such an absence? Virgil doubted he’d be welcome, but perhaps that was just his own doubt clouding his mind. 

Perhaps.

Virgil forced himself forward, hobbling carefully down the path. He looked as frazzled as he felt, and maybe he should have stopped in town to be presentable first. He’d bathed in the river regularly, but the clothes were old now, damaged from travel. Maybe they could forgive him for it, too, if they could with everything else. He hadn’t wanted to delay another moment once back in the safe lands of the kingdom.

The path hadn’t changed much, even if a little overgrown with grass and wildflowers that hadn’t been cleared in a long while. The porch still creaked on its second step. Roman had said he would fix it soon. The bench swing on their porch was not as white as it used to be, sun-damaged and with a few chips in the paint, but it still had a clean outdoor blanket folded over the back of it and was free of dirt or pollen like it was regularly kept up. They still used it, then.

He tried to imagine the two of them there, sitting and watching the sunset like they used to together on many nights. He wonders if they sat there together watching the path for him to return. He wonders how long they waited, assuming he would come back for months. Hoping he would come back. Guilt tightened in his chest as he stood there far too long, staring and lost in thought. 

He did not realize he wasn’t the only one outside.

 Roman’s sharp gasp followed by the loud clatter of his watering can on the stepping stones leading to the back of the house was the only warning Virgil had. Virgil jumped, nearly tripping over his walking stick in his haste to whip around and just as startled as Roman stared. He had changed so much quite visibly. Ro looked more hallowed, his eyes not as bright as they used to be with small creases underneath. He had longer hair than Virgil had ever seen him with, messily put up in a bun.  

Roman was right there, and Virgil’s heart ached to reach out, to say something and make that shaken expression change. 

“Virgil!” he cried out, and it was almost more of a wail.

He wasn’t able to say a word before Roman was rushing him. “R-Roman– I-I’m so sorry, I really– oof!” 

Virgil’s back bumped the door in a moment of distress, because so much that had run at him in these past years had been hostile and trying to kill him. Roman closed the distance faster than Virgil could sidestep and he flinched, almost expecting anger to greet him, but arms encased him, not trapping or to hurt, but holding him close, as if he were something precious. Roman held him fiercely, and it took Virgil several long seconds to realize he wasn’t the one shaking. Or maybe Roman just was more than him. Virgil let out a small wounded noise as all the words he’d had ready were stuck in his throat, and it was all he could do to hang onto Roman’s arm around him.

The front door swung open and Virgil could not see behind him as he was currently being clutched against Roman’s chest, the tall diefic being refusing to relinquish him as he somehow cradled Virgil to him while they were both standing. Roman was sobbing over his head.

Virgil collapsed forward unwittingly, too startled to stay upright. Roman held fast, sinking carefully down with him and not letting Virgil slip from his strong arms. Virgil was stiff, trembling as he didn’t know what to do with his arms.  Roman tried to speak through his sobs, as Janus both tried to console him and fuss over Virgil, reeling as well, but knowing he was needed by them both. That didn’t stop Virgil from seeing tears on his face as well, Janus pulling Virgil against his chest when Roman let up for a moment to fuss over his state.

Virgil clung onto him like a lifeline, shameful in how weak he was to allow it. They should be furious with him, but they were too kind to turn him away. They wouldn’t, even though he’d properly abandoned them. He’d told himself he wouldn’t cry– wouldn’t force their sympathy from past feelings for him. 

“We’ve got you, love, it’s alright.” Janus said soothingly, and tried to pretend his voice didn’t hitch on the words. He cradled Virgil’s face in his cool palms, pressing their foreheads together as he just seemed to reveal in the sudden relief and change in their reality.

So many dreams of this very moment, a hope they’d shared in all its clear futility for two years now. Janus held on tight to make sure he was real, and refused to open his eyes for fear of waking up again.

“We thought you were gone,” Roman breathed out, pressing his damp face into Virgil’s wayward curls. “The–the pendants– stars, they told us you weren’t even alive– they didn’t glow when we reached out with thoughts of you, nowhere in the world…we t-thought you were–”

“I am so sorry,” Virgil whispered, clinging to Roman’s sleeve and pressing his face into the fabric desperately. He still smelled like canvas and that fruity spritz that Virgil always loved on him. He grimaced, trying to reign his emotions in, he couldn’t get overwhelmed right now. He had to tell them; needed to explain himself before they realized they should be far more upset. Though they had every right to be. “I’m sorry,” he croaked out, louder this time. “I-I– I never intended to be gone this long– but I couldn’t give up and time passed so much faster than I–”

Virgil cut himself off, trying to calm down. He wasn’t trying to make excuses. Janus hated when people couldn’t even be accountable, but what could he even say? 

Virgil clutched the bag to his chest and tried to pull back, however reluctant, to get his arm out. He managed to wiggle it free when Roman realized he was trying to get to it and let up a bit on his hold, not letting him go for even a moment.

“I– I got you this.” 

Janus and Roman’s eyes widened at the curling amber circlet he pulled from his bag, Roman covering his mouth when he saw it held gently in Virgil’s hands in offering. The headpiece had unshaped Ecludite at its front, trapped by a translucent tesseract crystal. The chunk of metallic crimson was no bigger than a coin and nonetheless radiated the immense power it contained just from being exposed. It was invaluable and a thing of legend and entirely non-existent in this mortal realm. Which meant…

“Virgil– this is from Erok!” Janus exclaimed, nearly standing again in his horror. 

Roman gaped, immediately turning to Virgil, who shrunk in on himself. “You went to Erok on your own?! Do you have any idea how dangerous and reckless that was? For two years!” 

Janus was shaking his head, trying to steady himself. “We could have easily lost you even from meeting in the afterlife, do you have any idea what would have happened to your soul had you died there? What’s likely already happened to your Quintessence–”  

“I-I know this doesn’t excuse me leaving!” Virgil said quickly, head bowed. “I know it was so stupid and I should have told you and that it was horrible to not even let you know where I was going the day I left– gods, I left a letter telling you I’d be back in a week…! I–I know this doesn’t make it up to you. For what I did before I left–” “Virgil!” Roman tearfully cut in, horrified and not able to take just listening a moment longer. “Did you do this on your own because of that guilt? Did you truly think we would not care or would want you to ever go to that– realm of chthonian horrors?!”

Virgil wouldn’t look at either of them. “If I thought for a moment at the start of all this that it would take me so long to get back, I swear I would not have gone like that, I never wanted to worry either of you, I wanted to do this for you! You both are so amazing and took care of me at my lowest–  A-And I had to do something–I could do something, I could b-bring you Mindscape’s Gate–”

“You should have taken us with you!” Roman cried, nearly knocking one of the most powerful dimension-crossing pieces out of Virgil’s hands, much to their little mage’s fear. Janus was faster, quickly taking it and the bag Virgil had settled it on away, holding it in his lap. Janus ran a hand through Virgik’s hair, settling it there as he gazed at him hard. “Virgil, you matter so much more to us than a portal back home. We would have found a way together, but to risk your magic being striped, your life– everything you are for this, all alone…”

They fell silent, save for Roman’s quiet soothing murmurs in their home tongue.

Virgil shook his head slowly, unable to hold the gaze. “I–I was selfish. I didn’t want to risk you, but thought…stupidly, that I could travel and make it after some lousy soothsayer told me how to get there. They never mentioned how hard getting back was and I was too desperate to ask. But you were just so terrified and devastated when the Di-Keep stole your connection to Home.”

“V-Vee, stormcloud, please, you’re–”

“Y-You both can go home again! You can see the others, so it was worth it, the risk, everything, it had to be worth it!”

Neither of them said anything for a long moment that time, and Virgil tried to pull away, but neither let him, Roman making a soft noise of protest. 

Janus shook his head as he tilted Virgil’s face gently to meet his soft eyes. “You did…all that for us. It was amazing of you, and…and so brave, even if…short-sided.” he said carefully, sighing as his face fell. “But you must understand, you mean so much more to us. No matter what happened, we do not want you to ever put your life up for us. It is so much more valuable to me than anything we’ve ever come to find in this realm. You are our greatest treasure.”

Virgil felt himself trembling at the implications.

Roman pressed his nose against Virgil’s shoulder, holding him close as Janus pulled them both to him, the circlet miraculously having been shifted safely to the bench swing as if it were just a souvenir he had gotten them.  

“We love you so much, our brave and selfless knight. We missed you deeply. We are so thankful the realm allowed you to return to us. If I’d known that’s where you were this whole time, we would have come for you, no questions asked. You must have been so scared…”

Virgil shuddered as his composure left him entirely, held so close between them and not wanting to let either go. He fisted Roman’s soft cotton shirt in tightly as Janus pressed a kiss to his forehead. “We have you now, my love. And we aren’t letting you go again.”

“I-I-sorry.” 

“We know. All will be alright.” Janus soothed, and Virgil held onto the words meant to comfort him. They did not know if he would be alright again. “I’m sorry– y-you mourned me.”

“You are here now, you are home.” Roman cooed, voice lulling. “You returned to us. Don’t you worry right now about how we will handle it. We are relieved.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil sobbed, and he didn’t even know what specifically for. For everything that he knew they must have went through. They had to be relieving the pain he’d put them through, showing up out of nowhere like this–

Janus shushed him softly, brushing long damp hair from Virgil’s face as it stuck together on his pale cheeks. Being without sun for two years would have such awful effects on mortals. Janus made a note to have Virgil sit outside with him as he recovered.

“All will be alright, windstorm.“

It had all but set now, the shadows all-encompassing in their little clearing as the stream bubbled in the quiet. Crickets and fireflies started their nightly concert and dance in the tall grass, having a light show that didn’t compare to the constellations starting to come out above them. They sat there, letting Virgil cry out all his feelings of loneliness and longing and fears he would never come home, that they’d never even know what happened to him. He didn’t stop his garbled apologies until he was physically too exhausted to keep it up. Roman and Janus patiently reassured and comforted him the entire time until he finally fell silent, slumped against Roman’s chest as Janus held his free hand, stroking the scarred skin in his cool, smooth ones.

“I-I’m going to lift you up, okay?” Roman warned right before Janus pulled back. It wasn’t even a second later that Roman took his place once more, easily lifting Virgil and standing with him, followed by more quiet fretting over how light Virgil was. Virgil could only curl into Roman, unwilling to pull away drained as he was. If they abandoned him now, he would simply lie there, unmoving until the Wyervins and scavengers found him. He had nothing left. He weakly clutched at Roman’s chest, chasing the dark thoughts away. Such thoughts had long haunted him in dreams of his return. They got to him, warping his memory of them and their love. Janus and Roman were not like that. Ro was bold in his outspoken declarations of adoration and love for them both. Jay was more subtle but no less sentimental and just as intense, showering them in sweet words and close contacts.

“I have you, little hero. You’re with us again.” Roman reassured as Janus got the door for them, sweeping the precious token up with his telekinesis once more to bring it and Virgil’s staff safely inside. He made sure it was slid back into its bag and that it was set in the study, safe in the heart of their home. Many would kill or worse to get their hands on something so impossibly priceless, but they already had something worth more in their arms. They could discuss it in a few days or weeks, after they all had recovered enough and had a proper talk about all of this. 

Jan was not so sure a complete recovery was feasible, no matter how many decades and centuries passed, but they could be okay again. They would get to a place they could function in normalcy, even if it was never gone. Maybe it should never be gone, as life-changing as it was. Neither he nor Roman were done explaining to their beloved just how much he meant to them, and they would get it through the cloud of doubt in his mind. They would dote and tell him constantly of that truth, and reassure his anxieties as much as he needed them to without question. He had been through something no one should have to face and survived it. He was going to need time and help recover from that. They’d be here to listen and help him get any residual soulmarks healed. They’d guide him through the trauma and how to cope with what he’d never be rid of. They’d do anything for Vee, for Virgil, as long as it meant they’d still be there to love and protect him. He was as much their home as Mindscape, and they’d never let him be isolated from them ever again.

“We will take care of you, darling. You can rest now.”

[ssaseaprince]

When the characters finally kiss in a fanfiction that I deliberately started reading solely because of that pairing, and yet somehow I'm still panicking so much that I have to close the page and can't bring myself to look at it and continue

[urpersonalpublicgalaxy]

trad art sketches

hoping tumblr doesn't tank the quality

[bumblingbabooshka]

[TUVOKTOBER: Day 15] At First Sight. [Patreon | Commissions]

[twentythree-yearoldlizard]

An extract from a poem I wrote which I dedicate to Wolfstar.

Remus' POV after The Prank:

"I hated that you could paint me black and blue in shades mixed with misery and the grieving of something that was either dead or never alive at all.

I hated that I'd let you"

[samwise1548]

Some potential interactions between Sam and Alice. First is right after the interview, second might be later on, like s2 or something

[ID: Two pen on paper drawings of Samama Khalid and Alice Dyre from the Magnus Protocol. Sam is a Pakistani-Welsh man with short hair and a moustache. Alice is a black nonbinary person with a buzz cut and round glasses.

Image one: Drawn in blue ink, Sam says "Thanks for helping me land this job." Alice responds with a playful punch and says "Told you they'd love ya!" They're both smiling.

Image two: This one is done in red ink. Alice is turned away from Sam ashamedly when Sam asks them, "Why did you make me take this job, Alice?" Alice is shaking slightly at Sam's heavy tone.

\End ID]

[zrllosyn-art]

How many died to bring you here?

Color experiment gone heavily awry.

[mikhailoism]

i actually kinda love the 6x18 highway collapse disaster bc it was soooo good but disappointing in the whump of it all ... like bobby get basically buried and coming out with just a hurt shoulder or something... no i wanted to see him almost die ... like we could've gotten such good angst of him stuck there no way out and no way to get help... and i always think of when athena calls out on the radio she found him she sounds so scared and sad when I first heard it I thought something really really bad happened to bobby but ... i wanted more angst and whump... the potential... and then only to make it worse they time skipped so much like no end with them all gathered in the hospital in recovery...

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Just Paint

They never expected it to be easy. Although, saying this was difficult, was a massive understatement. They stared blankly at the canvas in front of them, paintbrush in hand. The researchers had said this might aid with the nightmares, putting it out onto something they could burn or destroy or simply leave behind. Sure, it might have been cathartic but it seemed more symbolic than anything else. They hadn’t taken the advice of those denying them their freedom. But now, here with Roman? They didn’t feel as trapped.

The past few months had been nothing but traumatizing, emotionally exhausting, and completely confusing. They had entered a whole new world that they still didn’t fully understand. The rules didn’t work the same way, and some rules no longer existed. Like, apparently one can’t just bring a puppetry demon to court for taking away bodily autonomy and memories. Who knew?

Pip closed their eyes, resting the handle of their paintbrush against their knee. Roman had been kind enough to grant their request without question, gathering the materials. Then again, he was probably told to do the same thing. Maybe for different reasons, but painting couldn’t have been unfamiliar. 

The nightmares were getting worse. It was the whole reason they had decided to go along with this symbolic bullshit. They weren’t normally a sleepwalker, but ever since the possession — that was what they were going to call it, no matter what the movies said — they found their body moving against their will. Sometimes they would wake up and they couldn’t move. On those nights, their hearing filled with static and incoherent mumbling. Other times, they would wake up in an entirely different room. They had begun to lock their door, just to stop themselves from accidentally getting hurt. Roman was worried about them, Pip could see that. Maybe that was the real reason he hadn’t asked any questions. Maybe he was willing to try anything that might help — no matter how ridiculous. 

Pip opened their eyes again, staring at the still blank canvas. What would they even paint? The time under possession had been like they just fell into a dreamless sleep and woke up within the institute. All they had were those murmured words. Their stomach curdled as they thought of the words, the voice saying it. They could feel their chest tightening and immediately scrambled out of the stool. They backed away from the canvas, eyes wide and breath trembling. 

It was funny how a single voice could tear their stability apart so easily. They set the paintbrush down, crouching onto the floor. Pip held their head in their hands, trying to just breath. Was trying to paint even worth it? Or would they have a panic attack halfway through and just end up making the problem worse? Were they just doomed to suffer through this loop of terror and dread until it swallowed them whole and left nothing behind?

“Pip? Are you here?” The familiar voice called out. Relief pushed away the lingering fear and they looked towards the direction Roman’s voice had come. It was a reminder. They weren’t trapped anymore. Not under the researchers, not under the puppetry demon. It wasn’t perfect, but it was an improvement. A start.

“Yeah. I’m here.”

[hexiewrites]

see you at the drive in (wish I was in your ride)

Steve shouldn’t care about what his roommate slash totally platonic best guy friend is doing every Saturday night.

He shouldn’t care about the fact that he’s gotten used to Eddie spending a full hour getting ready, primping and priming, blasting heavy metal and simultaneously talking Steve’s ear off as he meticulously applies eyeliner and fluffs out his hair just right before he heads out with a wave on yet another of his seemingly endless dates. They used to spend Friday and Saturday nights mostly together–hanging out, watching movies, smoking joints–and it’s not even that that bugs him the most, losing a friend like that.

It’s that it was his idea in the first place.

OR

Five times Eddie goes on dates with other people, and the one time where he finally goes with Steve.

(a little april fools day fic full of angst, miscommunication, and smut, for @thefreakandthehair's spicy six spring challenge, and the prompt drive in theatre)

[rated E, 13k]

[captainofthestrangestship]

I don't care how many times I rewatch The Immunity Syndrome, I am never not going to feel a little bit insane when McCoy thinks that Kirk is apologising to Spock because he didn't pick him for the suicide mission... like babygirl what is wrong with you????

Who the hell apologises to the guy they didn't pick to get killed?

[findafight]

Tbh I don't think Byler will become canon only because there's so much wrapped up in it that makes it incredibly bittersweet. Like yeah Mike likely has feelings for Will and Will for sure has feelings for Mike, but then there's El. Will is loyal to his sister and Mike also cares deeply for her, and she is in love with Mike and has found a brother in Will.

That love is where all the hurt and angst comes from in S4. Like I don't often deeply think about them as I'm far more obsessed with stobin but. The angst is the love triangle between characters who care so deeply about each other. Mike and Will. El and Mike. Will and El. They all love each other in some way and it's that love that is causing them all to hurt in some way. Mike struggles with saying his feelings. Will feels he cannot honestly express his. El wants clear communication. They all have contradictory needs that cause for miscommunication and hurt. And I am not sure how that could be solved, at least in a way that feels natural and satisfying, within the time allowed in the limited episodes they have.