it's been dead

I think people like writing angst, but they honestly can’t like reading angst. Can they?
—  The Husband, severely misjudging the entire Dirk Gently tag

someone once asked me if i had learned anything from it all. so let me tell you what i learned; i learned everyone dies alone. but if you meant something to someone, if you helped someone, or loved someone, if even a single person remembers you, then maybe you never really die, and maybe,

    this isn’t the end at all

person of interest  —  21 june 2016

As the sky slowly faded to its darkest hue, a certain young nekomata was found in her room doing her best effort in finishing some last minute homework. The little one reasoned that if she could finish before bedtime, she wouldn’t have to sacrifice her sleep and thus her master wouldn’t notice that she did what she isn’t supposed to be doing. It was a good thing that she told her master that she’s going to spend the night at Mayohiga to fix some things, otherwise she would be extremely paranoid of that sliding screen from being opened by a stern kitsune.

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the new taz ep was really fucking good and emotional I almost cried and this is what I’ve decided to draw to express that


tag meme: name ten favorite characters from ten different fandoms.

do you ever think about how much garrus trusts shepard. how when you find him in 2 he’s been trapped up in that room for like three days or something and the second shepard is there he sighs and he hands them his gun—the thing that has been the only thing between him and death all this time—because he is just so sure that everything is going to be okay. he even hangs up on his call with his dad according to the comics like he’d called his dad because he was sure he was about to die and then he saw shepard and told his dad not to worry because his odds just got better because. because shepard is here now everything is fine he’s going to make it because its shepard and they’ve been dead for two years but he doesn’t even kind of question it he’s just so relieved and happy that they’re back and they are going to get him out of this because shepard would never let him get hurt thats not the way they do things and. and. and then he gets hit in the face with the rocket but he gets back on his feet immediately ready to go into hell with shepard because they’re back and they need him at their six and there’s never any doubt in his mind that shepard is real and he’s even ready to expose himself to a deadly plague if they need him to he doesn’t care as long as shepard is safe. and after that it’s unwavering loyalty and they might argue about stuff but he is in this until the end no matter what and if you romance him its so clear he is just head over heels in love with shepard because they try to play it off (to each other and themselves) that its just a little harmless fun but they’re both like “i want You because i can trust you” and “this is about Us” and there’s no shepard without vakarian, garrus and I’m crying

Inspired by THIS POST about gay Disney Princesses. 

When the old beggar comes to the door, Addy knows better than to let her in. She doesn’t look at the rose or the woman too long; she shuts the door.

Some will call her arrogant or selfish, but what is she to do? No guards, parents in the capital (not, here, not here), and the knowledge that she is the damsel in all those fairy tales weighs heavily on her mind. Oh, little princess, far from home and alone, so alone.

The Enchantress (for they do not call her witch) makes sure that she stays that way.

Alone except for her wilting rose.

(She did not want it, would not take it, so she was bound to it. Such is the way of Princesses.)


Addy used to have frightful bursts of temper. Her face would turn red, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, mouth screwed into an upside down kidney bean. Anything could set her off; a too tight corset, a walk ended too quickly, another toy sword taken away. She’d wail and scream, kick her feet and punch the air, tear and rend anything within arm’s reach.

The first time she has a fit in her new form, it’s after Mrs. Potts reads the King and Queen’s decision on her…condition. She’s to stay here, on the outskirts of their kingdom, until a Prince comes to release her from her spell. Alone until a different sort of bond is forced on her, until she is made to change from princess to beast to bride.

Addy know why they refuse to save her. It’s because she’s always been too big, too strong, too ill-tempered, too–

In her rage, Addy upends the tea tray, forgetting, forgetting, forgetting.

She is reminded when fine china falls to the hard ground, when it rattles, when it shatters, when it screams.

“No!” Addy falls to her knees next to her dishes– no, her friends and frantically rights them, apologies tumbling from her lips, eyes brimming with tears.

“Temper,” Mrs. Potts murmurs, more out of reflex than anything, looking obviously terrified. She hops from her side to her base, better able to control her new body than any other castle resident. Her lid is sitting askew and her eyes are wide (so wide) as they dart from one cup to another. “Daniel? Daniel!”

Addy cuts herself on broken porcelain and flinches. She–she’d killed him, she’d been so thoughtless, how could she? “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

“I’m okay,” a little voice says. “I’m okay, Mom!”

 Addy sobs as she locates him under the silver platter, on his side, trapped. She throws the platter too hard, lodging it in the wall, and takes Daniel in her paws.  

“It’s okay, Princess Addy,” Daniel chirps at her. He’s a little older than her, just a few years, and he’s always trying to be strong. His eyes are wide (too wide), but he offers her a tremulous smile. “I’m okay.”

“Thank goodness,” Mrs. Potts says and her china clinks as she hops forward. 

Addy’s eyes lock on the horrible, huge chip in his rim. 

I did that.

She’s across the room before being aware of setting Daniel down, of standing, of leaping away.

“Princess,” Mrs. Potts says from her low, low position on the floor. “What–”

“Don’t call me that,” Addy grits out. Her huge body leans heavily against the door, making it groan, as she desperately tries to wrap her paw around the handle. She can’t stop looking at the chip, the proof of harm, the proof that something much worse can happen so easily. “Don’t call me– I’m not–I’m not the Princess. I’m the Beast.”

The door crashes open and she disappears.


It’s weeks before the servants realize that she’s never going to answer to her name again. She no longer sleeps in her princess bed or attempts to wear her princess clothes. She wears pants scavenged from the servants’ quarters, tunics from her father’s closet, ties her mane back with twine instead of ornaments.

“Addy!” they call. “Princess Addy!”

The Beast doesn’t even know who that is.

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hannibal + @screenshotsofdespair (1/?)