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#it's an emotional fight
newttxt · 2 months
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“ain’t no one born into this world to be alone!”
happy birthday, robin!!! 🌸
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mikartisa · 7 months
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(through tears) WHAT IF THEY IDK. HAD A NICE LITTLE CHAT OR SOMETHING
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break my arms around the one i love
poem: Shauna Barbosa GPS art: @mmelodyj / unknown / Ainslie Hogarth Motherthing / Keaton St. James HISTORY STUDENT FALLS IN LOVE WITH ASTRO PHYSICS STUDENT / @555w4 / unknown / Ada Limón The Good Fight / @sunsbleeding
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beebundt · 2 months
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thinking a little too much abt durge/orin sibling relationship rn. 🩸ft. my durge (briar, they/them)
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strangertheories · 6 months
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I really despise the Marvelification of Stranger Things, because all the interviews nowadays are constantly referencing how fast paced and epic and big the finale will be but the reason people fell in love with the show wasn't special effects or long episodes; it was the plot, it was the characters, it was the mystery. Stranger Things 1 may have been a story about a government conspiracy and a monster, but that's not why we stuck around. The show can throw amazing CGI, Russians, a battle within the American army and an apocalypse at the audience with the biggest budget known to man but if they forget to ground it and keep it central, it'll just get lost amongst a plethora of other "epic" blockbusters. We want Steven King, not Avengers.
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regonold · 3 months
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Ok fun idea so danny gains a reputation of the ghost who defeated the ghost king not becoming the ghost king but the man (boy) who defeated him
Like out of nowhere danny suddenly has the reputation of i defeated the being who it took a team of ancients to seal away
And eventually people hear of other things danny has done like defeating nocturn undergrowth and vortex and befriending clockwork pandora and frostbite
Until eventually he's accidentally built up a mythos around himself like he's went from friendly neighbourhood ghost boy to somehow a mythic being of legend
Which slowly bleads to his rouges and friends because why would the legendary phantom be fighting children no clearly they are much more powerful
So slowly danny is boosting his and his rouges and friends powers to powerful forces like the rouges might wonder what's happening as they are suddenly gaining powers or getting stronger and gaining titles
Like ember becomes known as mistress of sound and skullker actually gains the title of realms greatest hunter because how else could he survive against the legendary danny phantom
All the while Danny's got no clue whats happening except he's more powerful he's got no clue why but eh it helps so he's cool with it
Basically danny accidentally makes himself and his rouges/friends gods due to association and belief
If you wanna make it dpxdc some cult actually manages to summon the ghost king so Constantine decides to summon the one ghost supposedly able to beat the mad king
Only to get a fucking child and for said child to be a sassy little shit
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fuckyeahisawthat · 15 days
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Oh I realized a thing about the Paul/Feyd-Rautha fight. So usually if you have a big fight scene, but especially if you do something like have a character get injured in a way that would definitely be fatal if they weren't cursed with inescapable Main Character Energy, you follow up the fight scene with some moment of comfort or relief or something, which serves to release the tension for the audience and let them know whew, that was scary, but it's okay now. Your character is hurt but they're gonna survive. (Or alternately, if they're dying heroically, it was worth it and what the narrative demanded.)
But here there's nothing. Paul is surrounded by devoted followers; his mother; his lover; one of his oldest teachers and a loyal servant of House Atreides. No one steps forward to offer a shoulder to lean on or help him to his feet. He's left them all behind. He's not a person who got hurt in a fight anymore; he's a myth that people shrink back from. So he pulls the knife out by himself. He stands up by himself. Other than the emperor very begrudgingly touching his hand to kiss the ring, I don't think anyone touches him at all for the rest of the movie. He's completely alone. They never release that tension, because Paul's alive but it is very much not going to be okay.
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slymanner · 4 months
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God dude these two scenes and how roxie moves hurt my heart so so bad 🥹
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it's like a mix of anger, feral, emotional breakdown, and complete sadness that just fucks me up soooo fucking bad.
it's like she's a pet who got abandoned by their owner but they see them again after years of sadness and depression of them being gone and leaving them like that and all that anger and sadness just manifest's into one bundle of emotion's towards them they cannot control.
roxie baby ur gonna be okay u deserve better :[
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juniper-clan · 2 months
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Moon 7: Teenagers don’t know proper communication skills.
PREVIOUS l NEXT
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elya-art16 · 6 months
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🌧️But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain 🌧️
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cyanbeetle · 22 days
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Trinity thesis
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lotus-pear · 1 month
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whatever happens, please don’t break
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satoruhour · 6 months
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a/n: jjk 236 spoilers, mentions of suicide from reader’s side, no comfort, cry. around 1.4k. tagging @jabamin @hyomagiri @saiki-enthusiast @arminsumi @shotorus @satohruu so yall can suffer w me
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the first signs of grief manifests in you when there’s a bright light that signifies gojo’s disperse of cursed energy, the familiar hollow purple that obliterates half the buildings around the two strongest sorcerers — one from the heian and the other one from our times. surely, your lover wouldn’t do something as foolish as involving himself with the blast, but gojo satoru is always one to take risks.
when he took up the job of taking care of megumi and tsumiki at just eighteen years old and providing all the things they needed to fluorish. gojo is risky as he convinces a kid with a terrifying curse to make some friends and learn about cursed energy. he sometimes puts himself in danger when he takes up more missions he can shoulder just to show the higher-ups that he can kill them any time.
gojo satoru has the world of jujutsu in his hands; how his birth had changed the trajectory of the society, altered the balance of the world and now—
“satoru!” you call out once the smoke clears and he’s still there, intact, smiling a sick smile like the many times you’ve seen him done at megumi and after burning french toast. you brief a sigh of relief and the pounding of your heart calms down momentarily before sukuna emerges and he’s missing a hand and a leg and your heart pulls lower and lower seeing the kid you raised be such a ragdoll for sukuna’s entertainment. but there was always the hope to isolate the king of curses’ soul and save megumi somehow. shoko and you had discussed it, you know it to be true, it has to be true, until there’s a sharp noise that cuts through your ear drums.
it’s high-pitched, like a flash of light that shines in your eyes too abruptly and you have to cover them. but it blinds you as much as it deafens; an attack from god knows which end and you swear you hear the reaper’s scythe.
gojo thinks you look beautiful like this; hand on your cheek and head in your hand as you watch him and the melodic sounds of the knife hitting the cutting board. you’re so concerned about him cutting his hand again that you’ve dragged your chair all the way into the kitchen to watch him closely, which was counterintuitive; the whole reason why he had bled in the first place was because he was looking at you so much.
he admires the way you curl into yourself on the beanbag in the apartment, a book on your lap on how to get to know your teenager better, hair falling over your eyes and the reading lamp not even helping that much in illuminating the words. gojo skims over your features and the way your chest breathes slowly, like everything good in the world. he hopes he’s able to get that with you in this life, for as long as he lives.
you feel it before you see it in the screens that the fight is broadcasted from — something is missing. a light has switched off, satoru has stolen the blanket at night and left you freezing again, seeing your favourite snack missing from the fridge. and you run. past the students you’ve raised, past the bright blinding screens and into the battlefield, past the debris and each crunch of cement under your feet brings a fresh bout of tears to your eyes. the tokyo winter is cool, snow starting to slowly fall upon you and the saltiness on your face seem to crystallise and harden and you’re not even sure any more. there’s a tingling feeling in your feet, in your finger tips and a pull of your heart. you know where gojo is before you see him.
“s— satoru…” you mumble, eyes welling up with more tears when his bottom half stays standing, baggy pants stained with red, red and more red and you’ve never hated a colour like you do now. you hate it, you hate it, you hate it even when he’s proposed to you with a red velvet box and gotten you valentine’s day chocolates in that same darker red and there is just too much blood.
and then it’s like the hierarchy of grief doesn’t matter any more. all those articles you’ve read preparing yourself after gojo’s fated meeting with death at sixteen, and then after shibuya — you think you can’t handle any more of the collecting and patching up and crying and headaches and holding a finger up to your chest and hoping you’d kill yourself with your own technique. the only time you’d accept the absence of the bright blue on his face is when he was sleeping and his chest moved with even breaths, not like this.
not like this. 
“satoru—” your voice cracks and you cannot even see. tears and tears and mucus and the fresh crunch of snow under your feet as you step closer to his severed body.
“baby…” he mumbles, barely above a whisper, hand twitching and reaching out in the direction of your voice because this is infinitely worse than getting stabbed in the neck by toji fushiguro, perhaps a little worse than seeing your best friend of your high school life get manipulated by a cursed user. satoru wants to demote all of that and say that seeing you stumble to your knees in front of him while you hyperventilate and sob hurts the most. 
“d-don’t move, ’toru, we— we’re going to get you b-back, okay?” you’re playing with god now. “shoko!” the doctor stifles a sob at your cry, broken up by the feedback of the sound system. she knows you’re trying to defy god.
“i don’t think—” the light is slowly dying. the world’s light, the student’s light, your dawn and dusk. “m-my love, everything is…”
“satoru, please, you need to—!” they say the last sense to go is touch and hearing. you crouch to his face to see him react to your warmth, eyes moving an inch to where he thinks you were and puts all of his cursed energy into one hand just so he could hold your cheek. you, warm as always as the sun and everything good in the world, a new rush of warmth overtaking his hand when your tears flow over his battered, tired hands, the same hands that has drawn over his love time and time again over your body and you are a canvas made of gojo satoru’s endless, unconditional ardour.
“i-i’m…” it fades out, his voice box is almost gone and you wail again and the snow from below wets your knees. his name is all that leaves your lips and you think if you can’t play god, you can only beg, even if your religion is solely gojo satoru.
“no, no, no no nono, satoru, c’mon, baby, stop it!” you scream in his face, words all mushed together when you feel the breath of life leave his chest, the blues die out in his eyes, “i love you, i love you, darling, i love you—” your lover barely manages to muster a small smile and you scramble all over his chest, clutching at the tattered black t-shirt and his hand that is starting to go cold and he has the energy to mutter out a stupid remark like gojo satoru always does.
“i’m sorry i got y-your favourite outfit stained with red, princess…” satoru whispers and that breaks the dam fully. you sob and groan and cry and wail until your voice is hoarse and you cannot speak any more and gojo wants nothing but to full heal himself again just so he could stop your crying. perhaps hold your face in his hands and kiss your forehead and nose and lips and embrace you until you couldn’t breathe. perhaps even to tell you he loved you more than anything and everything; more than poems and that foolish line he just had to say at the end and kikufuku and waking up next to you.
but in what world will gojo satoru ever get repose and a normal life? you hope for every other universe to have him be a preschool teacher, or maybe a florist, or even a superstar. but not in this one, no.
the hand that caressed your cheek is replenished again with cursed energy.
satoru gives you three squeezes.
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Always a bit puzzled by people saying that anyone who wanted long-term consequences for TotK Zelda's sacrifice are "edgy".
I'm not even particularly in the camp that she should have remained a dragon forever (I think this should have been Ganondorf's fate, it would have been sooo much more impactful than to explode him and move on but anyway). To be honest, I wish the rules for turning back would have been 1) clear 2) active gameplay on the player so that it feels like it's something we have earned, and 3) not make her have amnesia about it and/or at least having her gain some crucial insight because of the experience.
(also: doesn't she crave knowledge? isn't that insanely mean to have her watch over every civilization and every bit of history ever and then take it away from her? kind of dislike how totk privileges the comfort of the player's feelings over what the characters would actually want or need tbh)
To be perfectly honest, I fully expected us needing to turn her back before engaging Ganondorf so we would fight him together, especially since Zelda as a compagnon exists in the game code already (though in a very subdued state). It feels very very strange to me that all of this mechanic of Sages following us existing and yet we never have the very climactic cool Zelda-staple moment of facing Ganondorf or Ganon together (OoT, WW, TP, ST and probably more that I'm forgetting all did this in some way --even BotW had Zelda more involved than in TotK). I'm not sure Mineru was a compagnon that was needed over Zelda honestly, especially given the kind of non-insight she gives us on the zonai (even if the idea of the mecha is cool, it really could have been Zelda using her zonai + sheikah knowledge to pilot one for us or something).
But anyway: yeah, even if this isn't what I would have wanted personally, I think wanting Zelda to remain a dragon is kind of arguably more respectful of her relationship to Link, in a way, that what the game ended up doing. When she enacted this sacrifice, Zelda decided to trust him to such a extent that she lost herself, reciprocated his trust in her and his devotion to her, and now the future of Hyrule exists beyond her and beyond what Hyrule once was, but she trusts them to follow through and be happy and she will watch over them from the stars moving on. It's fine if we manage to save her from that fate, but even if we don't, honestly this sounds like a beautiful story/tragic romance to me, if you want to read it that way. Tragedy doesn't necesserily involve edginess. Fictional pain isn't always mean, or out to get you.
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your-turn-to-role · 1 year
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AT DAWN WE PLAN
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petricorah · 11 months
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more 🐢🦆 wip [id in alt]
edit: completed comic here
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