Everything has been said but I'll say my piece anyway
I really hope Shelby feels the support from her friends and I really hope Wilbur rots in hell. It still surprises me how there's still people supporting him.
It's in moments like this when you realize how performative people can be on the internet, maintaining a feminist discourse and at the same time standing by an abuser, minimizing or denying a woman's declarations as a victim.
He hurt so many people, seeing CCs that met him at age 16-17 speak out on his behavior is incredibly worrying. That's what people like him do, they can look down on, holding over their heads his age and the power that comes with it.
That's all. Also fuck Lovejoy and "separating the art from the artist". There's a thousand british indie bands being made by the second, find one of those whose front man isn't a piece of shit.
I saw the wiki writing about q!Jaiden's death and got an idea. Here's to the end of Parrotduo
Roier doesn't believe in gods, he doesn't believe any creature could be as cruel to orchestrate this Hell. A lot of people in the island do though, when they talk about certain things that have no logic behind them.
Like when Spreen went missing, that was okay. Roier never let go, he's not the type to forget, but he could live his life normally because at least he had somewhere to place his hate.
One day, a normal day, no big fights with codes or books from white bears, just a simple day, the island realized he was dead.
That's when Roier got bitter because all this hate was left with no vessel and when it all sprang back to him, he had no choice but to look at it. Nowhere to shove the love that was tangled between all his ill wishings.
He doesn't believe in gods, but that time when everyone came to the same conclusion, they decided there was more to it all.
Today, Roier is in a cellar when he finds out. He can almost see it being written, Purgatory, not arriving on the ship, nuclear bomb. If there are gods, they are awfully descriptive and he once again wishes to be a non believer.
He hugs his legs, guilt nagging at the base of his throat and ending at the nails that dig into his pants, because he has to mourn in a body that's not his. He almost doesn't want to picture her, she's too good for this foreign brain. Doied doesn't deserve to even come close to the pain that's stitching his eyes, he has no place where Jaiden is concerned.
Still, there's nothing to do, and his tears are more him than the cheeks they slide down, because him and Jaiden, that could never be about a body. That was deeper, so much deeper. All of a sudden there's a hole in his chest where she was supposed to be and he knows there's a piece of him lost somewhere that should have stayed in Jaiden too.
That would be it then, he feels it swell inside him and break his ribcage, all of the words he never got to say and the smiles he never got to watch. The fight they put up, the nights they cried themselves to sleep. More than a heartbreak, it's a matter of soul.
"Is there anyone left?" he wonders aloud when the dizziness from days without sleep draws a perfect picture of her in front of him. Her wings look ethereal like never before
"Where do I put all this love if there's no one left?" he tries asking. Her smile was always too much like a setting sun.
She doesn't answer but it's clear to Roier like it was clear to her when she stayed. They never had answers, they never asked each other these questions because the other was always wondering the same thing.
He wonders now, alone and nothing but a mind trapped in treacherous flesh, if she will manage to find Bobby. He wonders if he has anything left to fight for. He wonders, for not more than a second, what it'll take to see her again. See them again.
And off she goes like everyone Roier comes to love. He should be used to this by now. He's not.
Thinking about how desensitized qRoier must be at this point because of how often he's been robbed.
Does he just expect to lose everything?
Is he even surprised he lost his own body?
They already took his family, his life, there was nothing left and yet they keep taking. There's barely anything left of him and the federation taking his body is by now just a more literal extention of what they've been doing to him all this time.
"That smile was plastered everywhere, he could see it in the blood that poured from his friend. He would see it in the tears that fell to his hands."
Art from the wonderful abueloier and ghostbit fic written by @fog-kid. As soon as i read it i Knew i had to make art for it, it's incredibly written and so vibrant.
Close up of only the bodies under the cut since i'm very proud of them :]
So... Cellboier decided to give us old man yaoi, I am honoring their wishes
(can't believe i am unaronically writing about Abueloier and his "friend", dear fucking god)
There was blood under his nails, but that wasn't new. He sometimes scratched too hard or got too rough with the guards after trashing around his cell. Those were the bad days, when he couldn't even control where his hands landed.
Any other day, he couldn't control where his thoughts landed. That was the real danger. Not the scratches and bruises, the teasers and beatings. None of that compared to what years of confinement can do to you.
It probably would've been even worse had he not met him.
"Hey" he had whispered one night from the cell next to his, just over a year ago, after the guards left "You okay?"
"De puta madre" Abueloier hissed, touching his busted lip "Y tu qué? You're new?"
"Got transfered today" the man behind the wall moved to the front of the cell, Abueloier instinctively followed "Are they always like that?"
"Only if you're crazy enough to start breaking shit in your cell and threatening to kill everybody"
"Are you?"
Abueloier almost heard a smile in his whisper. He'd always remember that as the moment he realized he had finally found a match, someone of his caliber. An equal, a partner.
"On my bad days" he answered.
The other huffed a short laugh "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you at your worst"
"I'd hope so, you would hate me at my best"
From then on, they moved together as one. It was them against the rest of the inmates, the guards, the entire prison. They shared every meal, every recess, and talked about what they'd do once they made it out.
"I'll build myself a house" he spoke around a spoonful of beans "Maybe a castle"
Abueloier laughed "You dream too big"
"Okay then, what will you do?"
He shrugged and looked down at the stale beans on his plate "Make tacos, probably"
The talking got to planning, the days got longer and Abueloier's mind got louder. Every time his new friend explained what they had to do, his voice morphed into some distortion of what he said. The last days were bad, worse than bad, and nothing could stop that train of thought from flying off the rails.
"How do you know their schedual?" his hands shook, they had been doing that for a while.
"I told you already, I sneaked into the office-"
"Yeah, right. Fucking likely" there was a noise coming from his right but nobody noticed, so Abueloier didn't turn to check. He kept staring into those wild, troubled blue eyes and decided that if there was a white figure at the corner of his eye, he'd not give it the satisfaction of being noticed.
"You trust me, right?" he tilted his head, some of his hair brushing the neck of his uniform. Had that smile always been part of the design on their uniforms? Was it there at all?
"I do" he sighed and closed his eyes, mostly to avoid noticing more than he could handle "We can do this, and we will. Together"
There was blood under his nails, and it wasn't his or from any guard. His only friend tried to sit up to cough up blood but winced when it only made the knife dig further into his abdomen.
"Why would you do this to me?" he heaved, but Abueloier was about to ask the same thing.
"Where do you know them from? Was this entire thing just a trick to get me to them?"
That smile was plastered everywhere, he could see it in the blood that poured from his friend. He would see it in the tears that fell to his hands.
"I would've gone to the end of the Earth with you, but you chose them" he pressed his forehead to a bloody chest, feeling the difficulty of its rise and fall "You chose them. You chose them. I would've chosen you"
The realization came seconds before those wild, troubled blue eyes dimmed into nothing. There was blood under his nails, on his hands, on his clothes, pouring from his friend's body. There was betrayal laced to his last words.
"I choose you too" it sounded like a scratched record, wet with the blood drowning the sound from his throat "At your worst and at your best"
The guards found him some time later, maybe minutes, maybe hours, could've been days for all he knew. Turns out they didn't wear white, never did, in fact. The smiles from the walls were no longer there, the eyes in every corner had completely dissapeared. No trace of bears or artificial voices telling him about other people's intentions.
All that was left was a life sentence and years worth of lagoons in his memory, blissfully blank and confused. Still, he managed. He got a job as a janitor, even went out sometimes to meet up with his grandson, but always tried to avoid that good for nothing husband of his.
Those eyes, they looked too lively. Too wild, too troubled for anyone's good
you think q!roier keeps looking back to their wedding cake because he's scared he'll forget what q!cellbit looks like he sometimes forgets bobby's face?
Chanting begging praying for Chafaland to be canon in Roier's past now that Natalan showed up and confirmed knowing him please pretty please.
It would make sense for his character and I just think more people should know about how Roier suffers and has the most tragic experiences in every fucking universe. Including QSMP and Chafaland as well as Squidcraft and Hunger Games.
My guy had a whole yandere arc during which he gave birth, had a child, and his child got murdered. And the guy he was desperately in love with helped with the murder.
Imagine the implications of that being canon for the QSMP where he dealt with parenthood and a romantic relationship. Just imagine.
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