Tumgik
#you are not above anyone
zytes · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
this manatee looks like it’s in a skyrim loading screen
39K notes · View notes
stil-lindigo · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
warmth.
a comic about not being alone.
--
creative notes:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
--
all my other comics
store
7K notes · View notes
originalartblog · 6 months
Note
Question, is there tiny soukoku corruption??????
With big Chuuya around I don't think Tiny would ever need to use Corruption. His tiny gravity manipulation isn't as strong.
But you got it in my head so let's picture it: there is this 3cm-tall dude that faintly glows red and throws deadly baseballs around. He's fast, dangerous, and, again, 3cm tall. Good luck catching, or even spotting him.
It's Chuuya who ends up having to catch him and throw him at Dazai like a ping pong ball so Dazai can nullify him. Or maybe throw Tinyzai at him. Your pick.
Tumblr media
and then Tiny rolls over and starts snoring the hurt away because he's Chuuya and he's just built different.
tiny snore
2K notes · View notes
kaleidescopic · 5 months
Text
oh you hate musicals? oh so youre allergic to all fun and whimsy then? youre against all joy and giddiness brought in front of you huh? you just hate any and all happiness and silly times dont you?
2K notes · View notes
Text
DP X DC crossover prompt
Sam and Tucker, thanks to living in Amity Park and being overshadowed and controlled by ghosts so many time, had become very liminal. Until an accident while trying to stop the newest ghost enemy led to the two of them becoming halfa’s. Sam’s ghost form looks like what she looked like during the whole Undergrowth thing. And Tucker’s ghost form looks like his King Tuck design.
After a reveal gone wrong, Danny, Sam, and Tucker flee Amity Park. The trio run away to Gotham, and using money Sam managed to snag from her account before they left, they buy a nice sized building right in the middle of Crime Alley. They decide to turn it into a bookshop and cafe. There’s a garden/greenhouse attached to the back end of the building where Sam grows all her plants and herbs. Tucker has his own tech room in the basement alongside Danny’s tiny lab space. They live together in the apartment above the bookshop/cafe.
One day while out on a walk, Danny stumbles across two tiny twin half formed baby ghost cores. They’re nothing more than tiny little balls of glowing light at the moment. Baby ghosts that are just starting to form but are nothing more than cores at the moment. But they seem to be slowly fading. Danny refuses to let them fade away into nothing. He scoops them up, infuses them with some of his ectoplasm to get them going, and then shoved them into his chest for safe keeping and so that they can be close to his own core which starts slowly feeding them energy.
Danny rushes back to the shop and drags Sam and Tucker to the upstairs apartment and shows him the baby ghost cores he’s found. The three all agree that they’re going to help these cores develop into actual ghosts. They switch off on who carry’s the ghost cores around. Some days it’s Danny. Some days it’s Tucker. And some days it’s Sam. Each of them feeding the cores a little bit of their ectoplasm to help them grow.
One of the cores feels distinctly female and has a purplish blue glow to it. The three start jokingly calling her violet. The other core has a distinctly male feel to it. It’s an orangish red and has a small crack along one side of it. Danny jokingly said one time how he (the baby core) kind of looked like Nemo’s egg at the beginning of Finding Nemo and ever since they’ve been calling him Nemo.
The two cores have been developing very slowly, both seemingly unable to absorb the needed ectoplasm, to form into full ghosts, quickly. The trio is fine with this, they can be patient, and wait to meet their twins.
Then one day there’s some kind of massive ghost attack. Maybe a cult or something attempted to summon the ghost king but messed up the summoning and accidentally summoned something else. The Justice League try and fight the thing, but they’re no match for this ghost monstrosity. And the JLD aren’t available to help for whatever reason. The trio decides to step in and help. They kick the crap out of the ghost pretty easily and send it back to the ghost zone. Then Danny, in his King Phantom garb (crown of fire, whispy white fire like hair, a regal looking version of his hazmat suit, the ring of rage on one finger, and a cape around his shoulders, the outside being pure white but the inside looking like the vastness of space) approaches the cult and rebukes them, telling them how even if they had managed to summon him he never would have helped them take over the world.
After that the trio become members of the Justice League. Thanks to some of Danny’s previous time travel shenanigans, and Danny being the ghost king, and Sam and Tucker his consorts/mates(?) the Justice League all think that the trio are ancient eldritch ghost gods.
And then one day when the trio are in the Watch Tower with the rest of the League their twin baby ghost cores come up. Maybe it was time to switch out who was carrying them, and mid meeting or lunch or whatever, Danny just reaches into his chest, pulls out two small glowing orbs. He cradles them close to his chest for a moment, looking at them lovingly, and whispering something soft to them in ghost speak. Then hands them over to Sam, who does the whole cradle them close and whisper softly in ghost speak before shoving them right into her chest.
They look up from this to see the whole League staring at them wide eyed and confused. Danny just casually explains that those are their children but they’re still forming so the trio needs to keep them close to their cores to help them grow, but they like to switch up everyday who carry’s them. Every member of the Justice League becomes super protective of the trio after this. They see it as the three essentially being pregnant (sort of), and they don’t always know which one of them is carrying the baby ghost. So best to just be protective of all three. The trio finds this kind of amusing and a touch bit sweet.
When the twin baby cores finally develop into actual baby ghosts, the two kind of look like a mixture between Danny, Sam, and Tucker’s ghost forms. Though Violet has dark purple hair and eyes and Nemo has bright orangish red hair and eyes.
2K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
if you wana come to my bedroom,
Tumblr media
i can be there if you want to
#lol jk i don’t let anyone come to mine anymore#literally the last time i had anyone stay w me at mine was almost a year ago lol#i’m such a freakkkkk about my space#idky. i just feel so vulnerableeeee#not even in a safety sense (although that is a strong thing too)#but just like… you can SEEEE me#maybe it’s bc i’m so sentimental & i keep everythingggg#so my whole space is cluttered with items from people or moments that have meant something to me#i still have pictures of my ex in my frames on my wall#hanging above a jewellery box made by the one before him#which now also shares a shelf with a mini sculpture someone quite recently gave me#the subject of which i had a big conversation ab with a person i’ve met only once but known a long time & who’s t shirt now hangs on my rai#the little figure that captured my heart in a somewhat remote canadian store during a summer that felt very liberating at the time#the gifts from dear friends#my nephews excited & colourful drawings with the words ‘‘auhtie lou yor the bezt’’ covering half the page#pinned to my fridge with the beginnings of a small magnet collection from places i’ve loved#the mugs on my counter that have no cupboard space to live but which i adore for their cute designs#my plants that wilt from me forgetting to water them again & again & again#my choice of soaps#moisturisers#my dvd collection#the food in my fridge#all of these thingssssssss that are so innocuous and plain but that lay my whole BEING out so nakedly#like ik that’s a normal part of A Human Person’s Home#but i’m just not v good at it lol#anyways#me#mine#ur-average-girlnextdoor#queued
907 notes · View notes
happyk44 · 2 months
Text
percy repeating that he can be good over and over again to himself while covered in the blood after an overwhelming unleash of volatile rage that destroyed all that threatened his loved ones while grover holds his face and steadily grounds him back to reality
("i'm safe, we're safe, it's safe, just breathe")
534 notes · View notes
too-many-paper-cranes · 2 months
Text
fun fact: in the room before the second hornet fight, the game doesn't unload her sprite after she runs off screen, so she just keeps running in the direction she left out of bounds, forever!
246 notes · View notes
noxious-fennec · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
Won the war, got the independence, became president. Now what
565 notes · View notes
carnivalcarrion · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Frank! fantasy flavor!
rambles:
i really wanted to blend that monk-class inspiration w/ Frank's personal vibe... i like to think that i Succeeded!
i turned his tie into a sort of brooch since, yk. bowties aren't all that Fantastical. they miss the style. also i think they'd be more comfortable with something smaller since he's very active and needs a wide range of maneuverability
i bet Eddie or someone wheedled them into adding the leather shoulder pauldrons - leather to keep it a bit more flexy, and also. it just looks Cool!
figuring out what would replace his vest was tough. i didn't want them to be entirely unprotected, but i couldn't give him straight armor. though i will admit! a sort of tight-fitting crop top was Considered! but i landed on a gambeson vest as the best fit - comfortable, flexible, a Vest, while providing some level of protection! also, gambesons are quilted, which fits Frank's diamond-checkered vest!
ive already mentioned that one of my favorite outfit things is Flowy Pants Tucked Into Boots, so... that choice wasn't very character driven. except the boots are a tall ankle wrap - for that extra stability and strength! their shoes are pretty flexible and are only a few steps away from being slippers.
and the half-skirt - open skirt? - thing (still don't know what its called) is purely some self indulgence. i think Frank looks great in skirts!! also imagining him Throwing Down w/ the added flair of the skirt... damn. it'd probably help confuse enemies too - what're they gonna do next? who knows! the skirt is in the way and adding extra Movement!
i like to think that his knife is either in a sheath attached to the back of the belt, or they have it on their thigh (under the skirt) like Wally's bag. he probably never uses it... punching is the way to go for Frank methinks. it's probably reserved for cutting ropes and fruit
speaking of punching.... wrist wraps! inspired by boxing gauze! pads his knuckles, keeps his wrist compressed, its the best choice for physical combat. though the wrapped knuckles probably always have blood showing through anyway... or no yeah it's mostly other people's blood...
as for scars - Frank probably has quite the collection! i imagine that they've been picking fights since a young age, and in such a dangerous world he probably got hit a Lot until they learned how to hit back. and hit back Well. still, i wanted to give him a cool face scar with a very lame backstory - a book with a crisp, sharp spine corner fell off a high shelf and bonked them in the face at juuuust the right angle <3 he probably stays very fucking quiet about it which makes everyone think there's some intense traumatic backstory behind it. there isn't. Frank's just embarrassed.
closing note: i imagine that Frank has zero magic. literally none. cannot wield it for shit cannot utilize it. he's just like Howdy fr
#im Very happy with this outfit ngl#they probably know a bunch of different fighting styles...#and then stitches them all together into a Frankenstyle#get it? frankenstein's monster + frank + style - yeah yeah i know im hilarious#he probably stresses everyone tf out with how gung-ho they are in a fight Without Much Protection#like yeah gambesons can cushion blows and depending on the quality can lessen or even stop arrows / stabs#but frank's is a Vest. yeah it covers his vital organ area but like. their face? arms? legs? its free target practice#everytime eddie sees frank throw himself at an enemy w/ magic or Much Bigger Than Frank#he has about 100 heart attacks#catch him sprinting to cover's franks ass. they need it#frank Will look at someone way above his pay grade and go 'yeah i can take em'#(and that's why they consistently end up under poppy's healing wing)#julie unfortunately is on the same bullshit as frank#so if frank takes on someone he cant handle - so will she. without blinking!#though when she (or anyone else) tries it that's when frank goes 'are you crazy?! dont fight them they'll kill you'#frank has common sense when it comes to other people <3 not themself <3#scribble salad#wh fantasy au#ah yes and the tiny knife... the glorified cheese knife...#even sally has a nice dagger and she's got some Powerful magic on her side#meanwhile frank is bringing fists to a gunfight smh#tryin ta think of a backstory for him for this au...#im thinking... he was either an orphan or his parents straight up Ditched him as a kid...#and he was taken in by a... fuck im missing the word. monastery? or something?#whatever it was it was run by somewhat spiritual people that raised & trained highly skilled/disciplined fighters#with the intent of 'you will fight for good blah blah blah'#maybe frank would sneak out and thats how he met julie? and he taught her some combat skills maybe...#& then he wound up running away w/ her or somethn#or he completed his training and went out to be a Soldier For Good but wound up following his own path & moral compass... idk
329 notes · View notes
wispforever · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
exalt
150 notes · View notes
wild-at-mind · 1 month
Text
I would honestly call the left's inability to accomodate people with morality-based OCD compulsions an accessibility issue at this point.
88 notes · View notes
whitesunlars · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
maybe tumblr will listen if i speak its language: remember in 2020 when we all had to sit down and realize that everyone has internalized racism? that everyone has prejudices even if they don't realize it? being antisemitic is more than sitting around wearing a swastika saying you want jews to die. take a look inside yourself and you'll find antisemitism there, too. it's time to address it.
230 notes · View notes
comradekarin · 7 months
Text
taylor swift fans constantly setting that woman up by comparing her to black artists and saying she’s better than them is super funny,, like they very seriously think that she is leagues above BEYONCÉ or MJ as if swift’s whight mediocrity isn’t the root cause,,,, but here’s the kicker… let you say that Beyonce is the better singer, or dancer, or has better production, or more of a cultural impact… “oh, let’s not compare two queens who are killing it in the game” shut the fuck up- white feminism is a disease. this is my spirit when y’all fr bring up that whight woman:
Tumblr media
286 notes · View notes
mishapen-dear · 6 months
Text
“There’s a problem.”
Bad twitches, pausing briefly, but doesn't stop crafting. “What is it?” 
“The entity crammer won’t work,” Cellbit says. Bad’s hand crunches suddenly into the mine. He blinks down at it to see that a little red light, blinking sweetly, has been unearthed by the abrupt handling. He uses his thumb to gently push the explosive beneath the surface of the mine once again, smoothing the dirt back over it. He takes in a slow breath. 
“We could blow him up with mines.” He knows that won’t work. It’s worth saying, anyway. 
“It wouldn’t be fast enough.” Bad can hear movement behind him as Cellbit shifts on his feet. Bad keeps his ears perked for any sudden movements, but keeps his back turned as he works. If Cellbit suddenly turns against him... well. He isn’t going to just walk into a cage trap this time. “He has too many totems. We need another plan.”
There is another plan- this would be the perfect time to mention it, but the words stay locked behind Bad’s teeth. It would be so easy. All he would need is someone to keep Forever distracted while he sets up the scanner somewhere unavoidable, and then Forever would just need to walk through it, and that would be that. But that would be that for Bad, too. The scanner can take everything from Forever. The scanner can take everything from Bad. His warpstone and his enderpearls and his chorus fruit and his totems and his scythe- no, it’s not worth it. Bad remembers the cage. He remembers how quickly everyone turned on him. They’ve proved how much he can’t trust them with this.
He needs to find his kids, first. Then, maybe, he’ll let them know about the scanner. Then, if they really, truly, cannot find anything else... Then. It might be worth it then. For Forever. 
Bad promises, “We’ll think of something,” and he crafts another explosive. 
They think of mines. They think of the slingshot. They think of mobs. They think of everything. 
It isn’t enough. Forever has so many totems that no plan is good enough, and they’re running out of time. Whatever they do, whenever they do it, it has to work, and it has to work fast. Forever on the Risus pills is very happy, and a little dumb, but he isn’t stupid- if he figures out that they’re trying to take the pills from him… Bad doesn’t want to think about it. But every new plan is just another dead end and a fresh headache, and they’re running out of time. 
So- he does what he has to do. 
One night, only a few days after Bad and Cellbit had their conversation about the entity crammer, Forever leads Bad to the beach. On the sand is a lonely little picnic blanket, red, surrounded by red candles and bunches of roses. Wine and crepes and a chicken dinner. Bad asks if the blanket’s wool was stolen from his base, Forever laughs and says no. The stars twinkle mournfully down at them; the waves mute their voices; the sand is so, so soft. Forever doesn’t stop smiling. 
The candles are too dim to light them well, but the ring gleams in the moonlight. Forever holds it out to him, beaming, and Bad’s blood is rushing in his ears so thunderously that even as he sees Forever’s lips move he can’t hear the question over all this noise. 
It doesn’t matter- Bad knows the answer. 
He says yes.
--
It’s easy to play fiance. It’s so easy. Bad sits on his bed all day, spinning the Sunshine Protector over and over in his hands, and wonders if the world has always looked so dim. There is always a weight in his chest and a lump in his throat, and it feels like if he doesn’t move he’ll combust but he barely has the energy to stand. Most of the time, he feels stuck in standby. He can’t look for his children, because Forever gets agitated if Bad isn’t home when he gets home, and that’s against the whole point, isn’t it? The point to keep Forever happy. Keep him pliant. Pliable. Easy to worm into his heart so Bad can rip it open from the inside out.
It’s hard. 
He’s just… he’s sad. 
He’s angry, too. It sits below the surface of his soul, buzzing. He wants to scream. He wants to tear. Whenever Forever smiles at him Bad wants to chew his face off with his teeth. But Bad has a job to do, and he needs to stay reasonable to do it. He’s gone wild before- he knows what happens. He knows he needs to cling to his own leash with both hands and never let go. But Dapper is gone, and Pomme is gone, and there is a ring on his finger -not even diamond- and Forever is always smiling. 
It’s the pills’ fault. Bad knows it’s the pills’ fault. He still wishes that Forever would try to kill him again. That would make everything very, very simple, very, very quickly. 
But then the plan would be ruined, because Forever has so many totems that he could escape, and Bad- 
Well, by that point, Bad would probably be a little ruined, too. 
The door slams in the other room. He goes still, then stands. He can hear his fiance calling for him. “Bad!” Forever. He sounds cheerful. Happy. “Meu docinho de côco! I’m home!” 
Bad expertly pulls cheer into his own voice. There are many things he is good at, and one of those things is lying. “Forever!” he calls back, and exits the room with the Sunshine Protector still in his hands. Forever, as always, doesn’t seem to notice. He perks up at the sight of Bad, like a golden retriever whose owner has just stepped in through the door. His perpetual grin is still on his face, being perpetual. There’s a wide, almost wild joy in his eyes; his happiness is tacky, like hard-candy drizzled left in the sun and then drizzled with syrup. 
“Bad!” Forever cheers again, laughing. His white suit is perfect, the Brazilian flag pinned neatly across his shoulder. Every day, when he comes home, Bad looks for blood. As always, he finds none. Forever bounds over to take Bad in his arms and spins them both, as if they’re lovers long-apart finally reunited after a dangerous sea-bound journey. Forever leans in, quick, for a kiss. 
There is a game they like to play. Bad doesn’t know if it’s a game for Forever, but it is a game for him. Since their engagement, Forever has gotten more bold with taking his pills in front of Bad- he’s gotten more bold in trying to get Bad to take them with him. Bad has only ever accepted kisses from Forever on his nose, cheek, and forehead- even before he saw Forever, moments before trying to catch his lips again, slip a pill between his teeth. 
The game goes like this: Forever attempts to -literally- kiss Bad into oblivion; Bad dodges.  
This scene plays out like all the ones before it. Bad turns his head to the side just in time, and Forever, undaunted by yet another failure, presses an enthusiastic kiss to his cheek instead of his lips. His free hand is on Bad’s other cheek, pressing their faces together with unfiltered affection. His hand is warm, and a little rough with hard-earned calluses, and his beard tickles Bad’s skin. His breath fans hot across Bad’s cheek. 
He’s so happy. 
Bad has never lost their game, but he thinks about it sometimes. Even if Forever managed to get a pill into his mouth, there’s nothing that would force him to swallow. But there’s nothing that would force him to spit it out, either… And then he holds onto the Sunshine Protector even more tightly and he messages Phil or Cellbit about whatever mass-murder attempt they’re thinking about trying next, at least until he can think about anything other than- that. They’ve gotten Etoiles in on it, recently, and any day now they’ll come up with a solution. They have to. 
For now, Bad wraps his arms around Forever when he pulls back, grip loose, and plays his part by not stabbing him. “Hi, Forever!” he chirps. The enthusiasm feels wrong, but if he tried to pull up fondness he thinks he would just pull up bile instead. Maybe he should. Maybe he should spit acid into Forever’s face and see if that will kill his smile, make him angry, make them fight, just like they used to. He wants, more than almost-anything, to see Forever snarl. As a precaution to unfiltered impulses, Bad flicks his wrist and sends the Sunshine Protector back into his inventory. 
“Hi, Bad!” There’s a flash of the pill between Forever’s teeth, sparking white hidden in his smile, and then he swallows audibly. Nothing happens for a moment, and then his eyes dilate, he starts to shake, and his grin widens far enough to show all of his teeth. Forever’s trembles turn almost violent, every other breath catching on a giggle. He falls against Bad, his weight pressing heavily into his fiance as the drug makes its way through his system. His hand goes from Bad’s cheek to his hair, pulling hard and clinging to it like a lifeline. His totem-hand digs painfully into Bad’s side. Bad just tightens his grip, and holds. 
It never lasts for long. Soon, the two are left standing in an almost-peaceful embrace, with Bad’s arms wrapped securely around Forever and Forever’s cheek pressed against Bad’s shoulder. Forever’s shoulders are relaxed; his back open; his neck bared. If Bad’s leash were looser, he could lean down and tear his throat open with little more than teeth. 
His head stings where Forever pulled his hair too hard. 
Bad’s voice comes out too soft when he asks, “How was your day?” 
“Oh,” Forever sighs. “Perfect, just perfect…” He nuzzles his face into Bad’s shoulder, the scruff of his beard making little scrtch scrtch sounds against the fabric of Bad’s robes. “But it’s even better now that I’m here with you.” Bad’s heart twinges. “And I’m going to go see Richarlyson when he wakes up,” Bad’s heart weeps. “Do you want to come with me?” 
His tongue is like lead in his mouth. “Sure.” 
Forever beams again. He squirms, and Bad lets him go. Forever doesn’t pay him any mind, just wanders over to the nearest mirror to peer at his own face. There’s scrutiny in his expression- Bad almost feels hopeful, and then Forever asks, “What do you think of my beard, Bad?” 
“It’s fine.” 
“You’re too nice to me, Badboy,” Forever scolds brightly. He’s still watching himself in the mirror. There’s a glaze over his eyes, almost fevered. “I want to look nice for our wedding.” 
Bad’s stomach swoops. “Well-” he starts, scrabbling for yet another reason to delay it. He needs to wash his hair? No, he used that last time- 
Forever derails all of Bad’s excuses by not mentioning a date, and instead saying, “Can you help me shave?” 
Bad freezes. “What?” 
“My face, Bad,” Forever insists, grin blinding as he turns towards him. “My beard. O cabelo do meu rosto.”
“I know what a beard is,” Bad snaps suddenly, sharper than he intended. 
Forever’s smile twitches. “Great! So you’ll help me? Por favor, meu anjo?” 
Give and take, don’t push too far. He’s here to stall for time, not to fight. The further he pushes Forever, the less he can control him. Bad takes a deep, slow breath, and shoves the anger back down. “...Okay.” 
Forever beams. 
That’s how the two of them end up in the bathroom, Bad sitting on the counter as he watches Forever meticulously craft the supplies. Bad had offered one of his own (many) blades for the procedure, but Forever’s grin had just grown wider as he shook his head and shuffled Bad into the bathroom. 
It’s cramped in there, both of them in their full gear. Bad watches Forever mix the shaving cream, golden totem glittering in his palm as he awkwardly holds the bottle still. There’s a faint rushing in Bad’s ears. The knife is already prepped, laying on a warm, damp towel on the other side of Forever, furthest away from Bad. 
His eyes keep going back to that totem. The rushing in his ears grows slowly in volume, until he thinks that he’s never going to hear anything else ever again. Bad is holding a totem, too. A totem of death, darker in colour and promising more pain. It’s not as good as a totem of undying but, as long as he holds it, he doesn’t need anyone to pull him up after a fall. The both of them, holding totems. 
He’s surprised when he hears himself say, “Forever?” 
Forever hums a curious noise. “Yes, meu xuxu?” 
Bad swallows hard. He doesn’t know where this is going, but he has a feeling, and over a dozen code attacks have taught him to trust when he gets a feeling. Carefully, he gives voice to the thought that’s been nagging him, “I need both hands to shave you.” 
“Okay!” Forever agrees, unphased. 
“Forever,” Bad says. “I need to stop holding my totem.” 
Forever doesn’t- falter, but he twitches, a little hiccup in whatever happy little daydream he’s been living in. “Don’t you trust me, Badboy?” 
Bad thinks about the mines. He thinks about explosion after explosion after explosion at the end of a disastrous proposal. Bad licks his lips. “It’s not… about trust,” he says, words cautiously measured. He’s not the one on drugs, but he feels like vibrating from knotted-up anticipation. “You know I’ve been here a while. You know it was… hard. Even before the code. I’m…” Forever looks up at him. “I need your help.” 
Forever cocks his head to the side, still smiling. “My help?” 
Bad bites his lip, then, and doesn’t miss the way that Forever’s eyes train in on his mouth. “Yeah,” he says, warming to the lie. “Yeah. I need your help.” He starts unbuckling his chestplate. 
Forever freezes, mouth falling open. “Badboy?” he says, voice a little tremulous. It almost sounds like him. Bad is embolded into continuing. 
“You’re in danger, Forever,” Bad says, and oops- too true. He drops his chestplate into one of his backpacks, then continues, “As president, I mean. Not everyone loves the Federation. The code, political enemies- they all want to hurt you.” 
“Political enemies,” Forever echoes with a laugh, and Bad feels something rush through him at the almost sardonic look Forever gives him. 
Bad smiles back at him, letting it come out a little nervous. One by one, he removes the rest of his armour. Pants. Boots. His hands are shaking by the time he removes his helmet and drops it into the backpack. “I know what it’s like. That… worry. Even with your loved ones. So I don’t- I don’t want to scare you, Forever, but I want you to put your totem down, too.” 
Forever keeps grinning. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” There’s a sharpness to his voice, a grated edge that just promises more shouting and more pills. A risk of him running off, escaping, and Bad can’t lose this opportunity now that he’s got it. But Forever is stubborn, and this isn’t enough, so… 
Fudge. Okay. He’s committed now; he has to keep going. Bad takes out the Sunshine Protector just to obviously, visibly, tuck that away into his weapons bag. Anything, anything, he has to remember he’ll do anything. He starts piling the rest of his inventory into his backpacks. 
“...Meu anjo? What are you doing?” 
“I want to- to help you, Forever,” Bad promises. He feels so naked. He’s fully clothed. He has no armour, and his hotbar has no weapon to defend himself from the man who tried to kill him only days before. It- he exists in a strange state of limbo. It doesn’t matter how killable he is, because he can always respawn. What is death to a grim reaper? What is death to an immortal? What is death to a grieving parent? But- still. There’s a vulnerability to packing away his weapons, his armour, his things. All of his prep made obsolete, no scanner involved at all. “But I can’t- if you’re holding a totem, I need to hold a totem, see? But you want to hold a totem in our house, which is totally safe, for the same reasons I do. So, if- if you’re the most powerful player around, maybe- maybe you can put it down. For a little bit.” Bad puts the death totem into the bag, and closes it with finality. 
Forever is quiet. His smile looks hollow now. 
Anything, anything, anything. Bad hops off of the counter and throws his backpacks into the tub, out of reach, and draws the curtain for good measure. Forever’s eyes follow the arc of his hand. “There,” Bad pants, and turns around again. He stands there, bared but fully clothed, vulnerable in a way he hasn’t been since- since- since some point he can’t even remember. “Now I’m- it’s up to you to protect me.” Bad wants Forever to try to kill him. “Now- now it’s your turn.” 
“Bad…” Forever says, his voice softer than Bad has heard in… a while. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” 
Bad’s heart drops. He’s so close. He’s so far. The rushing in his ears is so loud. He wants to bite, and claw, and hurt. He wants to dig his claws into Forever’s skin and- “I’ll let you kiss me,” Bad blurts, the promise tumbling all at once from his mouth like a badly-kept secret. “Once I’m done shaving you. Just- please, Forever. You know what it’s like. Please. Don’t you trust me?” 
Forever cracks. 
Bad’s breath catches when Forever pulls out his backpack -the one with the totems. Forever’s knuckles are white where his hands grip around the straps, but he places the backpack carefully outside the bathroom door before he steps away again. He looks jittery already, like a wild animal, and brandishes the totem still in his hand at Bad like a cross. 
“I’m keeping this one,” he says, and his grin looks painful. “I’m- this one, I’m holding onto this one. Okay?” 
“Okay,” Bad agrees, breathless. There is a lump in his throat. It’s hard to keep his hands still. Is he shaking? He might be shaking. Forever only has one totem. Bad has nothing. Forever has one totem. 
Forever picks up the towel and the shaving knife with one hand, then carries them over. He holds them out. Bad takes them- the blade he accepts by its sharpest point, but he’s careful not to bleed. “Okay,” Forever whispers. Then, too quick, almost desperate, he takes out his bottle and gulps down another pill. He stumbles to the chair as the shakes start to wreck him, almost toppling over before he snatches onto the chair’s back to steady himself. Bad, still holding the knife, does nothing to help. 
Forever manages to climb into the chair just as the trembles subside. He slumps back with a loud, satisfied sigh, like he’s just completed some great feat. He tilts his head back to look at Bad upside-down, his relaxation a stark contrast to the tension from just a moment before. He smiles dreamily up at his fiance, and it almost even reaches his (dilated, too wide) eyes. 
“Oh, Badboy,” he sighs happily. “Come on, come on! We’re all ready now, aren’t we?” 
Bad can very clearly see the column of Forever’s throat, stretched out and vulnerable. “Yeah.” Bad’s chest feels tight. He steps up behind the chair and looks down- Forever’s throat is right there. It’s a nice throat. Bad thinks it would be easy to fit both hands around it. He starts with just one hand. The damp towel is wiped gently over Forever’s mouth and jaw, then down over his neck. He does it again, preparing the skin for the sharp edge of the blade. 
Forever hums quietly, appreciatively. He closes his eyes, and Bad’s blood sings. 
An open neck. An ignorant victim. A single totem. It doesn’t matter how empty Bad’s inventory is- he has a knife, handed to him by Forever himself. Bad should stab him now. Two quick slices to the throat, a spray of blood, and a fresh corpse. It’s what Bad would have done before- but. He’s tense. There’s a stiffness to his muscles, and he doesn’t have armour. What if he misses? They’re so close together, it’s impossible to miss. 
There’s something almost… ritualistic about a good shave, anyway.. Bad can’t put the blade to his throat, not yet. Forever will know if he starts too soon. He has no armour. He needs to do this right. The shaving knife disappears into his hotbar. 
“It’s been a while since I’ve done this,” Bad murmurs. He gently runs the towel along the bottom of Forever’s jaw, almost holding his mouth shut, but the president doesn’t seem to be bothered. Eyes still closed, he just makes a peaceful little humming noise. Bad moves the towel up a little higher- it hides the smile. It hides the smile, so Bad takes a moment to just… look. His stomach flips. Yeah, that’s Forever. That’s him. His lashes rest delicately against his skin, eyes shut and face smoothed into something peaceful. His hair has fallen into disarray, strands loose across his forehead, and Bad gingerly brushes them away.
He could lift the towel higher. It’s already over Forever’s mouth, and it could go over Forever’s nose, too. Bad could press down- or topple the chair, first, maybe, leave Forever falling into him as Bad suffocates him. Although- it would be difficult, but Forever could probably get a few good cuts into Bad before he suffocates, armourless as Bad is. But, then again, damp cloth is even better for a suffocation. Bad doesn’t think it matters if the towel is damp from water or from blood. Maybe he’d be able to keep the towel pressed down until he bled out. Maybe he’d die before Forever would; maybe he would fall across Forever and trap him beneath the wet cloth and the weight of his limp body, forcing the president to drown on the blood of his own fiance. Wouldn’t that be perfect? 
No. Too risky. It’s too risky. Forever still has all of his items. If he puts down a sponge and hits Bad hard enough, he’ll be able to get away before either of them could die. If Bad screws this up, he will never get a chance like this ever again. He has to be smart. 
So- cream, next, it’s shaving cream, next. Bad steps away as he throws the towel into his hotbar, then grabs the bottle and returns to Forever’s side.  “How did you learn?” Forever asks. Bad pauses a moment to realize what Forever’s asking, then laughs a little lowly.
 “I owned a pie shop, once,” he says. He pours the mixture into his hands to lather it. “I rented out the top floor to a barber. He was nice. Showed me a few things. Let me try a few things out with his clients.” 
Forever’s brows raise. “‘Try a few things out with his clients?’” he echoes. He’s -of course- still smiling, but there’s a note in his voice that Bad can’t read. 
“Yeah! Pies,” Bad explains. His heart twinges at the thought of simpler times. “They were pretty good. Now keep your mouth closed, Forever, or you’ll get foam in it.” 
Forever acquieses, but he purses his lips playfully until Bad gets his hands on his face. Once upon a time, when Bad first arrived on the island, his claws were sharp enough that he’d needed to wear gloves at night, just so he wouldn’t accidentally cut himself in his sleep. And then there were the eggs. Ever since Dapper arrived, Bad has taken a day out of every month to file his fingers down to dull, harmless nubs. Swords could do all of the cutting he needed, and what would he do if he poked Dapper too hard and ended up cracking him? He couldn’t bear the thought. 
But now. Bad uses the pads of his fingers to lather Forever’s face. If his claws were longer, they could gouge deep, bleeding ruts into his skin. As they are now, though, they do nothing more than scratch lightly over the stubble. At the worst, they leave a thin white line where they scrape over Forever’s actual skin.
In a moment of weakness, Bad swipes his dulled thumb under Forever’s eye, imagining the red tears that would bloom from the wound. Forever won’t cry over their lost eggs, but Bad could make him. 
Bad swipes his thumb again, pressing the pad of his thumb down with just enough force to feel at the edge of bone that gives way to eye socket. It’s an almost tender gesture, and Forever’s skin is soft. But Forever makes a little noise and Bad jolts, jerking his hand back. He swallows quickly, then wastes no more time in getting back to work. He lathers Forever’s jaw, his cheeks, around his mouth, a little way down his neck- he’s quick, and efficient, and doesn’t linger. And then… and then there’s nothing for Bad to do but wash his hands, and grab the knife. 
The shaving knife feels heavier. It falls into his hand from his hotbar with a solid weight. Inventories keep most items in the same state they were stored in, so the handle is still warm from Forever’s hands. 
Bad hand is steady when he puts it to Forever’s neck. 
His breath comes quicker, the rushing sound loud in his ears. Forever’s skin is warm and soft under his hand.  
Forever hums. His skin flutters beneath the blade. His eyes are still closed, his smile is wide. “What’s your favourite type of flower?” he asks. 
Bad hesitates for long enough that Forever opens his eyes to look at him. Bad swallows and doesn’t meet his gaze. He makes up for his hesitation by drawing the blade slowly up Forever’s neck, just an inch, and then summons the towel from his hotbar to wipe the shaving cream from the knife. “...Cornflowers,” he answers quietly. “Cornflowers are my favourite.” 
“Ah, cornflowers,” Forever sighs happily, smiling widely up at Bad again. Bad keeps his eyes pinned to Forever’s neck and draws the blade across a fresh patch of skin. “Those are the blue ones, right?” 
“Yeah.” 
“They’re nice.” Forever hums. Bad puts the blade to his neck again, but then Forever keeps talking. “I think they will look nice in our wedding. We can have flower eggs! Imagine them, Badboy, all of them in their cute little outfits, throwing cornflowers around.” 
Ow. He can see it so clearly, too. His little eggs all dressed up and covered in flowers as they march down the aisle… smiling. Happy. Bad swallows hard. 
“I think the colours should be all black and blue,” Forever says, and shuts his eyes again. “And then you can stand out all pretty with your black and red, Bad. Will you wear your hair down again?” 
“...Maybe,” Bad says quietly. “Now shhhh, Forever… I need you to hold still, and stop smiling.” Black and blue… He felt stuck on that. Black and blue. Like a bruise. 
“Stop smiling?” Forever giggles. “But there’s so much to be happy about, meu anjo!” 
“Are you sure?” 
Forever opens his eyes to look up at Bad again. Bad looks back at him. The knife drifts upwards, slow, to press against Forever’s pulse. Bad’s hand is already slippery from the cold shaving cream, but he knows that the blood will be warm. He twitches when something warm touches his face- and he realizes, abruptly, that Forever’s hand has lifted up to tenderly cup his face. “Yeah,” Forever says, smiling.
Bad’s hand is shaking. Not a lot- not enough to cut, but enough for him to notice. They’re close. How long has Bad been leaning in? He presses the knife more firmly against Forever’s artery, but he doesn’t slice. “Stop. smiling,” he hisses. The words feel like grit spat from his mouth.
Forever’s thumb caresses the skin just beneath Bad’s eye, a mockery of the purely violent gesture Bad had subjected him to just moments before. Bad flushes hot in- in anger, or something else, but definitely with some anger, and then- and then Forever says, “Okay,” and he stops smiling. He closes his eyes again and leans back -Bad is startled to realize Forever had been leaning up towards him too- ultimately taking the blade away from his own neck, and he stops smiling. His hand falls away from Bad’s cheek, but it falls to lightly rest on the wrist of the hand that’s holding the towel. 
Bad is quiet for a long, long moment, just staring down at his broken fiance. And then- and then he gets back to work. 
The knife glides easily across Forever’s skin, shaving away the fine hairs of his beard. Bad is out of practice, but not so out of practice that he makes Forever bleed. When he moves on from Forever’s neck he has to lay the towel down so both hands are free to manipulate Forever’s face. He carefully pulls the skin taut where necessary, and only presses his dull nails down too hard once or twice. Forever sits peaceful and blank faced through it all. 
And then- 
And then it’s done. 
Bad turns Forever’s head to one side, and then the other, and he barely has it in him to pretend he’s inspecting him for any missed spots. And then he lets go, and he steps back. The knife hangs almost limply in his hand.
It’s when Forever is grinning again, standing now and inspecting his own face in the mirror, that Bad asks, “Is it nice? Being happy?” 
“What?” Forever turns to him, smile a little puzzled. His eyes are downright twinkling with fevered joy. 
“Is it nice?” 
“Yeah! You did a really good job, Badboy!” Forever praises. Bad’s traitorous heart leaps at the rare praise. Forever bounds the half-step over to swoop Bad into his arms and spin them, the two of them almost knocking over thr chair in the small space. Bad clings to him, and the single totem digs painfully into Bad’s side. 
“Forever, that’s not what I asked,” Bad insists almost even before they come to a stop. He feels lightheaded. “Do you like being happy?” 
“Yeah!” Forever chirps. “I’m with you, aren’t I?” And he leans in. When he kisses him, Bad doesn’t dodge.  
Forever is so warm. His lips are soft and the kiss is so tender, gentle like Bad is a wild animal who might be frightened off at the first wrong move. Forever’s hand comes up to cup the back of Bad’s head, the other arm wrapping itself around his waist. Bad is pliant, and he doesn’t kiss him back, but his arms wrap around Forever and pulls him in closer. Their bodies are flush together with no room for even air between them, and Bad thinks that if he focuses hard enough he could feel Forever’s heart beat against his own. He splays one hand across Forever’s shoulderblades, pressing hard to pin him close, and he uses the other hand, the one with the knife, to stab Forever in the back six times over in quick succession.
Blood sprays on the mirror behind them. Blood coats Bad’s hand. There’s heat at Bad’s back as the totem pops! and the room is filled with a stinging, magical shower of green and golden sparks- his ears ring from the minor explosion. Forever gasps into Bad’s mouth, and he tastes like iron. The knife was deep in his back when Forever’s heart stopped- the skin is already healing over it, so Bad holds on tighter and rips the blade out. 
Forever gets pulled back violently with the knife- their lips are disconnected with a slick sound that makes Bad’s head spin. “Bad?” Forever gasps. His eyes are wide, but not with joyous fever- with shock. It’s a good look. “You- you stabbed me?” 
“I did.” There’s something wrong with Bad’s brain, some wires that must have been crossed on a bad respawn because he’s dizzy, he’s too-warm, he’s going to vibrate right out of his skin- he’s grabbing Forever by his hair and forcing his head down to kiss him. 
There must be some wires crossed in Forever’s brain, too, because he kisses him back. It’s not tender or gentle- it’s a fight, just another battle that both of them are too stubborn to lose. Their teeth clack together and it’s awful and Bad’s blood sings. Forever tastes like his own blood and Bad bites his lip, hard, just to taste more. Forever gasps into his mouth, faltering, and Bad presses his advantage. 
He shoves Forever backwards, towards the wall, stumbling forwards with him so they don’t separate more than a few inches apart. Forever makes a shuddery keening noise when his back hits the stone- and Bad knows it’s not just from pain, but he thinks it’s mostly from pain, because the knife had been between Forever’s back and the wall and now it’s been aquainted once again with Forever’s flesh. Bad pants hard, and it’s Forever who drags Bad closer and catches his mouth again. 
There’s so much blood. 
And then, suddenly, the blood is all that’s left. 
[[PRESIDENT]Forever was slain by BadBoyHalo]
The shaving knife clatters into the ground as Bad falls into the space where Forever’s body once was. He catches himself on the wall, startled enough to stop breathing. There, on the ground, is the knife, shining wetly in the too-bright light of the bathroom. Next to it is a small pack that’s left behind after each player’s death- the remains of Forever’s inventory. Bad’s ultimate prize. 
Bad is frozen for a moment. He’s vaguely aware of more chat messages coming in at a rapidfire pace- Cellbit, maybe, and Philza, and Etoiles and whoever else is awake right now, but he doesn’t look at any of them. He falls to his knees instead which are promptly stained by the bright-red mess across the floor. He finds out that doesn’t care- nor does he care when he stains the pack when he scrabbles for it, and and he doesn’t care when he stains the inventory items when he rummages, and he doesn’t care when he stains the pill bottle when his hand finally clasps around it. 
He stares at Cucurucho’s smiling face on the too-white bottle, surrounded by smudges of red, then wipes his dirty thumb across its eyes to blind it with even more bloody smears. The bottle gets thrown into his inventory, then- the briefcase, right Forever had a briefcase, too, Bad needs to grab that, and- 
and then that’s it. 
That’s it. 
Mechanically, Bad pushes himself to his feet. He leaves the shaving knife where it is. He gets dressed in his armour, gathers up all of his backpacks, and then he goes home. 
He gets changed. He lays down in Dapper’s room, curled up on the floor next to Dapper’s empty bed. He holds the Sunshine Protector with both hands, closes his eyes, and tries to sleep. Bad doesn’t sleep. Bad also doesn’t answer any messages until morning, and maybe that can count as rest. 
His mouth still tastes like blood.
185 notes · View notes
paper-starz · 5 months
Text
CALLING EVERYONE IN THE "HELLO PUPPETS" FANDOM MORTIMER HANDEE HAS A VERY IMPORTANT MESSAGE!!!!
Tumblr media
VOTE! VOTE! VOTE!
Vote for the poll! It contains these 5 lovely fandoms!
Amanda the Adventurer
Welcome Home
Hello Puppets!
Smile for Me
Poppy Playtime!
Oh? What exactly are you voting for? A crossover special of course! A crossover between the 5 fandoms above and My Friendly Neighborhood!
And in case you don't know what My Friendly Neighborhood is, lemme explain!
My Friendly Neighborhood is basically what happens when you mix Resident Evil and Sesame Street together! You play as Gordon, an old handyman who is tasked with taking down the antennae in the My Friendly Neighborhood studio (which has been broadcasting old episodes over the news!) and ends up getting chased down by some slightly unhinged puppets....
Go Check MFN out if you have the chance! It's a lovely game! If you like puppets (which I'm sure members of the Hello Puppets community does) and if you like a very valuable lesson AND a subversion of the ole' mascot horror genre, then you will LOVE MFN!
OH AND THE POLL (click below!)
WE ONLY HAVE 5 DAYS AND 19 HOURS LEFT SO YOUR JOB IS TO SPREAD THIS INFO FAR AND WIDE!
REBLOG REBLOG!
MAKE MORE PROPAGANDA FANART!
IDC WHAT YOU DO! GET THIS TO SPREAD LIKE WILDFIRE!
144 notes · View notes