Guess Who's Crying

Guess who's crying

But a part of Jason felt grateful.

As the searing pain started to flood from his chest to every molecule of his body, as his lungs started to fill with blood, as his senses numbed and his vision started to blur, Jason felt grateful.

That it was him. It was him and not Piper. It was him and not Apollo. It was him and not the demigod child he met just a few moments ago, who would have been far too young to suffer this type of fate. It was him, and by word of prophecy, that meant no one else would have to die tonight.

The cries of his friends sounded distant. He spent his remaining energy whispering his last request to Tempest, to take his friends as far away from here as the storm spirit can. He didn’t have the strength to look up and see if they made it out.

And as he lay on the broken floor of the sinking ship, his own warm blood pooling around him, his thoughts wandered to his other friends.

To Reyna, with whom he had shared many wonderful memories, who had been a faithful soldier, a reliable leader, an even greater friend, and one of the strongest heroes he had ever met. Jason was certain her name would end up in history books and tales of legend. He wondered if he had done enough to help her protect New Rome when they were both praetors.

To Nico, whom he deeply regretted ever doubting, who had shown Jason that people could be brave and true to themselves in more ways than one, who had been a friend that Jason needed just as much as Nico needed him, and it pained Jason to the end of the earth that he didn’t let Nico know when he could.

To Thalia, his sister, his family, whom he wanted to so desperately let know that he didn’t want to leave her a second time, yet knew she would understand his decision, but still wished he could have spent more time exchanging stories with, and that he could have hugged tighter and longer the last time they were together.

To Coach Hedge, that wild, old satyr, always charging ahead even when the enemy was stronger. Jason was heartbroken he couldn’t live long enough to watch Hedge’s son grow, but Jason’s certain he would grow to be as selfless and kind as his mother, and as stubborn and brave just like his father. He couldn’t have asked for a better protector.

To Percy and Annabeth, whose leadership, strength, and courage he had always admired, who as heroes he was honored to have fought alongside, and as friends he was honored to have made, and his friends at Camp Halfblood, who had taught him so much, and had given him a second life.

To Hazel, Dakota, Gwen, and his friends at Camp Jupiter, who made that place home for him. He thought about the little moments they shared: the dinners, the training, the midnight chats in the barracks. He felt more at ease knowing New Rome is in good hands with soldiers like them, and his faith in Frank as a leader had never once wavered. And in the back of his mind, he knew Hazel would be praetor one day, grieving for another moment that he would be unable to stick around to witness. He was immensely proud of his fellow soldiers, whose strength, bravery, and unity were marks of true Romans.

To Piper, the girl he wholeheartedly loved, whom he never regretted giving his heart to, because she was beautiful, because she was reckless, because she wore her heart on her sleeve, because she never turned her back on anyone who needed her, because she took her world into her own hands. He embraced her flaws, he loved her little habits, and he understood her enough to understand she wasn’t telling him everything, which was okay, because he also saw something in her that he once felt himself - the desire to understand your own identity, to feel secure with yourself, to have something to hold onto - and she deserved the chance to find it, even if she didn’t find it with him. He still loved her deeply, even after she left.

And to Leo, that crazy, wonderful, brilliant boy, the hero he was proud to have ever called his best friend. It had taken Jason all his power not to blow up a fuse and cut the power off for an entire city the moment he heard the news about his return. It had taken Jason twice that amount to look for him everywhere he could. He wished so painfully to let Leo know that they never once gave up hope of finding him, that even after his death they still wouldn’t have imagined ever leaving him out. He wished so painfully to feel the warmth that was so uniquely Leo’s once more. He would have given anything to hear him crack one of his ridiculous jokes just one last time. But even more so, Jason wishes Leo can find peace after returning to a world where they can never see each other again. “Sticking around is my specialty,” Leo once told him. And Jason didn’t doubt it one bit.

Sorry I couldn’t do the same, buddy.

He accepted his regrets. He accepted his mistakes. Moreover, he accepted his fate.

He prayed Apollo would be successful with his mission. He prayed Meg could live longer than he did. He sent out a silent apology and farewell to all of his friends, still holding the utmost respect for them until the end.

And slowly, he closed his eyes and emptied his mind, laying himself to his final rest.

The time it took for these thoughts to fly by would not be over a minute. After that, Jason Grace would exhale one last time, with the memories of the people close to his heart keeping him company up to his final moments as he lay alone in a collapsing ship.

More Posts from Mb-rihn and Others

2 years ago

friendly reminder that real people can't queerbait and you don't need to be lgbtqa+ to be an ally and advocate for lgbtqa+ rights

1 year ago

Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

Awhile Ago @ouidamforeman Made This Post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. Again. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell lures it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel, and it's ~forbidden. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you keep writing.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

Awhile Ago @ouidamforeman Made This Post:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every single human being. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.

3 years ago
Sbi Hugs For A Secret Santa :D

sbi hugs for a secret santa :D

2 years ago
This Is How The Smp Should End, And I Stand By That

this is how the smp should end, and i stand by that

1 year ago

Ok but why is no one mentioning Jason in the new pjo book?

Like percy thinking about what Jason said during BOO and the fact that he's technically still alive during the books means a probable future cameo. Why the ull has the fandom just forgotten sparky? :(


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3 years ago

reading episode 116 of muted is like ascending to the astral plane, as the comments said.


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3 years ago
Hi!! I Just Hit 1k Followers (which Is Cool As Fuck, Thank U All!!) & I Am Therefore Dropping A Huge

hi!! i just hit 1k followers (which is cool as fuck, thank u all!!) & i am therefore dropping a huge list of fic ive enjoyed over the past year. shorter fics are broken down by the central characters, and longer fics are in their own section! :DD

c!beeduo centric

each rip and tear a story - likecarillonbells

"When Tubbo decides the crust in front of him is ready to go, he gently slides it across the counter to Ranboo, who begins brushing it with a thin layer of olive oil as Tubbo rolls out another. They fall into an unspoken rhythm easily—squelch, swish, squelch, swish, squelch. The quiet is easy when it’s with Tubbo. The quiet is nice. The quiet doesn’t last for long. After all, it is Family Friday." - In which Ranboo and Tubbo make pizza dough and have some very important conversations.

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everything you feel is good - byunkies

ranboo is weak to water, and that leads to a noticeable lack of bathing for him. on that note, tubbo thinks ranboo's hair is in dire need of a wash.

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i am my beloved's / and my beloved is mine; he browses among the lilies - jewishtubbo

“So, this is it?” Ranboo asks, their hands shaking and heart full. “We’re about to be married. Technically.” Tubbo smiles at them, and laughs like a madman. “Yeah, bossman, I guess we are!” Giving the pen to Tubbo, Ranboo shakes their head, the smile on their face only growing wider. “Well, then, you better sign this to make our technical marriage official.” Or: The C!Beeduo wedding we deserved.

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Being Alive - b1rdza

Ranboo convinces Tubbo to take a break. (New Lmanburg era, based off characters)

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married people stuff - rosysugarr

c!Tubbo and c!Ranboo share a moment, and some shiny new feelings, while building the Bee ‘n’ Boo hotel.

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acne scars and sunkissed freckles - Anonymous

“Through the orange glow of the setting sun, Ranboo could see faded acne scars and light freckles pinpricked across the cheek free from scar tissue, not unlike kisses on his skin gifted from the gods themselves. Tubbo may gaze upon them as faults but Ranboo both saw and knew otherwise. No matter how torn or disoriented, no matter how many blemishes lay scattered across on his shallow pores; Ranboo still thought of him to be the most beautiful being he had ever had the honour of laying his eyes upon, and nothing would ever change that factor.” — c!beeduo weed smoking boyfriends (REAL!!)

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marry me? - niunepp

Ranboo moves forward until he’s in Tubbo’s line of sight, once again. “What if we did get married?” or, The Beeduo wedding plus

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o nazerene - eretgender

The first time Ranboo falls in love, it's a boy with the most neatly pressed suit he's ever seen. The boy's got whiskey on his breath and freckled scars spattered across his face like the milky way itself fell down and burned him, and he talks about policy and rebuilding and Ranboo doesn't hear a single goddamn word he says.

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The day meant for us - NonsensicalUniverse

Ranboo is dead. Tubbo spends the morning of their anniversary alone.

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And you're keeping a dark secret, but you're talking in your sleep - metatronfell

Tubbo wakes up from the loud snowstorm outside. At least while he's awake, he may as well get some work done.

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how sad (how lovely) - b1rdza

Tubbo and Ranboo have been married for one year. (A fic following c!beeduo’s marriage, from february 23rd, 2021, to february 23rd, 2022. happy first anniversary) ONLY ABOUT CHARACTERS! title from how sad, how lovely by connie converse

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I Love You (That's Not Possible) - ToriBlueBird

Tubbo wasn't lovable. Tubbo was hard edges and barriers and locked away secrets. Tubbo was hands tightened around a sword and refusing to let go. Tubbo was dusty records and tall walls and joking at the wrong time. Tubbo saw the way people danced around him. How they treated him like glass or treated him like dirt. How they smiled tightly at him or balked at his apathy. Tubbo wasn't lovable. - Or, Ranboo brings up that he loves Tubbo, and Tubbo doesn't understand how anyone could possibly love him.

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Smokestacks - ssootsprite

There’s a lot of pressure on Tubbo’s thin shoulders. Or: Tubbo chases highs to feel alive, and Ranboo is his tether.

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good morning, minutes man - andpoppiestoo

There's no reason to get up too quickly on cold winter mornings.

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Cookies and Compromise - ssootsprite

“Is this about the cookie shop?” All at once, Ranboo deflates, collapsing onto the sofa. “Sure, it’s about the cookie shop. You gave the cookie shop to your executioner. Let’s talk about that.” - Communication is crucial to any marriage. So they talk.

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Brown paper packages tied up with strings - Phantomxlegend

Tubbo peeled away the white paper wrapping, the tape barely holding it together. The paper came off easily revealing a soft, plush quilt. It was small, child-sized, and the material was smooth but soft. There were orange, red, and purple fabrics obviously a play on the nether and the nether portal. They were arranged similarly to the portal leading from the overworld to the nether. It looked hand-stitched but well made and just by holding it in his arms, Tubbo could feel how warm it would be. -- Tommy sews Michael a quilt. It's just pure fluff.

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c!clingyduo centric

to be a bit of warmth for you - zrenia

“I think— I think there’s something wrong with me,” Tommy whispers, one night, and it’s terrified and vulnerable and please-believe-me-please-help-me. Tubbo’s on the verge of falling asleep, but he sits up. “What do you mean?” he asks, and there’s a subtle tremor to his voice. Tommy turns his gaze to the ceiling. “I don’t—I don’t know?” he says, uncertain. “I just don’t think that I’m quite right, if you know what I mean.”

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i was falling when you caught me, was crawling and you brushed the gravel from my knees - infizero

"do you not remember... anything?" tubbo asks, chewing on his lip. "i mean, i can remember some stuff. and i know there's other things i can't remember, they're just too fuzzy for me to access." "do you... remember the tower?" - tommy and tubbo talk.

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pharmakon - sincethestars

at one point they wander to the farm, rooting up potatoes mechanically, conversation stalled in the cold of snowchester. tommy winces at practically every movement but he tries stubbornly to keep up with them. ranboo tries to get him to slow down, sit down maybe; go entertain micheal, but tommy scowls and pretends he’s untouchable. ranboo grabs tubbo for a second and whispers, “i don’t think he’s doing well.” “i know,” tubbo furiously whispers back. “but he won’t say anything.” “and i think asking about it would just upset him,” grimaces ranboo. it’s true, and even though half of tubbo’s friendship with tommy consists of them upsetting each other, he’s reluctant to do it now, just after getting him back. (or: in which tommy doesn't like the cold, tubbo is really trying this honesty thing, and ranboo worries enough for all of them. or: tommy&tubbo have a conversation about: death, ranboo, the prison, and loneliness. not necessarily in this order.)

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healing pains - loyallium

a songfic for @/rozugold​’s protégé!tommy au, based around this installment specifically (credit for parts of the small wilbur portion goes to this post)

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c!alliumduo centric

Undead - izzybelledot

Tommy had felt alone before, had felt betrayed and abandoned and fucking suicidal. This was different.

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c!benchtrio centric

heart heavy - stainedglassbirds

Tommy picks the seeds out of Tubbo’s hair. “No, see, that’s the whole thing that’s weird about you guys. Platonic marriage this, romantic marriage that, isn’t it just marriage?” “It’s different,” Tubbo stresses. “It’s… ugh, the way you feel?” “I’d imagine everyone feels the same getting married.” “Nooo,” Tubbo's broken horn knocks against Tommy's cheek. “You’re not getting it.” He freezes. --- or: tubbo's confused about his marriage. in turn, tommy realizes he doesn't understand this "romance" thing

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dissonance - shrugofgod

Here are the reasons why Tubbo is okay: One, his best friend is alive. Two, he’s married. Three, his son is safe. Four, Dream is in prison. Five, Technoblade decided Snowchester isn’t enough of a government to be blown up. Six, Wilbur was revived a hell of a lot more reasonable than anyone thought and decided to fuck off into the woods rather than kill anyone. Seven, Tubbo has nukes, so if reasons four, five, and six turn out to be untrue, Tubbo can fix that real quick. -- Or, Tommy gets a therapist. Tubbo works through some complicated feelings about it.

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c!tommy centric

old innocence - dauntless_dragayn

Look, Tommy doesn't know what the fuck is going on, but all of a sudden he's got this baby zombie piglin following him around, and he does NOT get attached, alright? He's freshly out of hell and been dropped into another one, and he's just trying to stay alive. Which isn't fucking easy, between his past and his.. present? or: Tommy doesn't lose his third life. Instead, the universe has other plans for him, and he has to look after Michael in the Nether until his parents properly adopt him.

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c!wilbur centric

it's just a lack of air supply that keeps me up at night - ghostieZone

"I don't think about you at all." The words echoed in Wilbur's mind as the world came to an end. He could still feel the phantom pain of the guillotine crushing his skull. Was that it then? Surely that meant the world had ended, right? He doesn't think about you. Ever. --- Signals were scrambled and lost somewhere in the atmosphere, and Wilbur was left to flounder like a fish out of water, humiliated in that moment of unrequited obsession.

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Jubilee Line Satisfaction Survey - peninkwrites

The Jubilee line is requesting all occupants fill out a customer satisfaction survey. Are you satisfied yet?

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longer fics

Promised Land - cosmonaughtt

Ranboo remembers the days when he would kneel at his bed to pray before the nuns turned out the lights and begged God that he’d be the next kid to go. He was a good kid; he was helpful, he was kind, he was humble, he was everything the nuns raised him to be. But nobody ever wanted him. Not even his own parents. (alternatively; ranboo's the oldest kid at a catholic orphanage. strange run-ins with mysterious people and strange abilities make him question everything he's ever known about the world and of himself. but maybe he'll get a new family out of it.)

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today, i coded it so everyone is trans- - nitpick7, SamthaBeta

eret makes a group chat with some of their trans friends at the request of their little brother. chaos ensues. or: i project onto minecraft youtubers but it's a chatfic or: i trans genders, i homo sexuals, and i diverge neuros

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FM 147.3 - thepigeoncat

ranboo's never been the musical type, always preferring to listen rather than to actually play. but after a chance meeting at his job, ranboo falls right into place at the esempi local radio station- fm 147.3.

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take this compass, follow it home - lightning_anon

Tommy's a fuck up, he can't pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He's a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He's also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.Why would this house be any different?-Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

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And Then You Fell in Love? - Doodlebloo

Ranboo brushes a thumb over his memory book, the knowledge of Tubbo's entry still fresh in his mind from his quick recap on the way over.Tubbo: Ex-president. Tommy's friend. Lives in Snowchester. Friend? "You don't have to, I guess," Tubbo shrugs, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "Just a suggestion." "You're sure you want me to live here?" Tubbo frowns. "Why wouldn't I?" "Well, I mean, we're... We're not exactly friends." Tubbo's hand - the bad one, the one that's mostly scar tissue - twitches, and Ranboo can sense that he's said something wrong. "Are we not?" - Ranboo and Tubbo go from barely friends to doting husbands in a matter of weeks, adopting a child and building a mansion somewhere along the way. Here are some of the moments in between.

2 years ago

i can hear him going “nooooo my brand- bruhhhh”

I Can Hear Him Going “nooooo My Brand- Bruhhhh”

x

3 years ago

everyday I wake up and suffer because I broke one mirror all those years ago


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mb-rihn - Silliest Goose
Silliest Goose

Call me Rihn!

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