#cursed duo

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

since promise duo (the duo name previously used for philza & ranboo) seems to have been taken over by newer mcyts (wemmbu & jadenman I think?), I don't suppose anyone knows an alternate duo name for Phil & Ranboo I can use for my tagging

would it be bad tagging manners to keep using promise duo for phil&ranboo

[pars3c-stuff]

OCs! The first of many. I've got way too many for Halo, but these two were the first, so there's that. The Spartan (III) is Fenrir and the AI is Hati, I've dubbed them the wolves or the cursed duo for lore reasons. I'll yap about them more properly at some point :)

(drawing is from August 2025)

(Close-ups under the cut)

[nevis-the-skeleton]

Cursed duo

I just wanted to draw this two X')

[skribblegurl]

We’re here again, Jimmy thinks, as they all stand in an awkward circle and say their first false-bright “Hello!”

And then it’s an awkward laugh and everyone turning and running away as fast as they can, because they know the drill by now. They all know what happens. You punch wood and you gather supplies and you build a place that can be defended if need be—don’t worry about making it pretty, only Scott cares about that—and you can’t trust anyone. Not even the ones who say they’ve allied with you.

(This time is supposed to be different. There’s supposed to be one person you can trust, one bond above any other. Except Jimmy had that before, and look where it landed him?)

We’re here again, he thinks, as he digs down trying to find iron.

There’s one other thing that will happen. Has always happened. Will probably always happen, in every cycle and every game, despite his struggle against it.

Jimmy dies first.

Oh sure, Scar has died before him, but not when it counted. Not on his red life. No, that’s always Jimmy, grayed out and red eyed and falling, falling, falling, first into that infinite blackness until the game is done and they’re sent back home.

It’s his curse, he’s come to realize. His death curse. Sometimes Jimmy wonders if he should just step back, keep away from the others before his curse inevitably reaches out with cold fingers and drags them down with him. (It’s happened before.)

Maybe he shouldn’t find his soulmate. Maybe if he doesn’t acknowledge them, admit the bond that now irrevocably ties them together, they’ll be safe. Jimmy looks down at his wrist. The first time, there were just the life gems, green yellow red, embedded in his skin. The second, there had been the boogeyman curse, a blackened heart on the back of his hand. And now, there was another addition—a faint red thread, tied in a knot and trailing off into mist. He wondered if he could pick apart the knot and loose the thread and let his soulmate live.

And then, he feels a sharp, hot pain against his back, knocking him forward, his inventory scattering across the ground as his vision fades to black. There’s just enough time to see the death messages:

>TangoTek blew up<

>SolidarityGaming died<

We’re here again, he thinks, and in the blink of an instant, he’s lying on his back at spawn, blinking up at the bright sun.

“Man, I am so sorry,” a voice says, and a shape stands over him, offering a hand up.

Jimmy takes it and studies the man he’s now bonded to for the rest of this game. Tango looked disheveled, his bright yellow flame-like hair sticking up in all directions, a smudge of soot on one cheek. He’s still jumpy, twitching as he looks over his shoulder at a sound in the woods.

“What happened?” Jimmy asks. This feels weird. This is a guy who builds death games inside of death games. Tango used to seem comfortable and casual about death, but two rounds of this and he’s obviously changed…

Because he’s kind of like Jimmy. Who died fighting for a lost cause, and then again at his own failed trap. The one who, you might say, had a death curse of his own. Who died to his own mistakes.

“Creeper,” Tango says. “Man, Jimmy, I’m so sorry. I’m an idiot.”

“No. No, you’re not, it’s okay, I’m used to dying,” Jimmy blurts out, not really thinking through what he’s saying.

Tango gives him a startled look, but Jimmy’s already moving, already going through what he needs to do next. He needs to find his stuff. Tango needs to find his items as well. Maybe make a hidden chest for backup gear at spawn. He’s saying it all out loud, not really expecting an answer, used to talking to himself out of habit, and he’s surprised when Tango starts answering, telling him the ideas are solid, that they should definitely do all of those things.

We’re here again, he thinks, and this time there’s a cold comfort there knowing that at least he wasn’t bound to someone like Scott or Grian, someone who had unbelievable luck and could use it, someone he would drag down (again). Maybe he and Tango could cancel each other out. Maybe they could both work against their curses and figure out a way to survive against the odds. Or maybe it would drag them down faster.

Either way—at least he has someone he can count on again. At least there’s someone who will go down fighting beside him. Better than that—someone who thinks he has good ideas, someone who listens, someone who doesn’t crack jokes and understands the curse they both now shoulder.

And that’s a bit more than cold comfort—that’s a spark of hope.

[realroachhours]

Nan-ku and Venev are clowns, and the universe is their circus.

[ariekthequeer]

Fanfic That I've been working on for weeks, and I try to update as often as I can.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[fissionduo]

On Ranboo & Phil

The lost words blessing / philza & ranboolive / irma reimert / marge piercy / anonymous / bell hooks / bastille / Tatyana Ostapenko/ Jon Kabat-Zinn / philza / NanoMortis / ranboolive / Leslie Bricusse / philza / dan twitchell / philza & ranboolive / Eden robinson / anonymous / philza & ranboolive / Cynthia Christine / philza / thutmouse / mary oliver / philza

[theenderwalker]

philza cares so much and trusts so much and ranboo trusts so little

and phil recognizes when things are off and ranboo builds walls around himself and builds them high

and when something is immediately wrong, phil will step in, he’ll take the splash potions and break them.

but when phil cannot recognize the immediate problem, he respects the walls, he respects those boundaries,

and he trusts ranboo to take care of himself. he trusts ranboo to keep his promise.

and ranboo won’t, ranboo will keep spiraling on his own confined in the walls of his own construction.

but ranboo wants someone to tear down the walls, he wants someone to reach out and to help him

but without fail, the moment someone tries to tear down the mile high walls he’s built around himself, he’ll run.

he’ll run, because that’s what he’s always done.

because if someone finds out, he’s screwed, right? they could never understand, they’d never trust him again.

it’s not like he can ask for help, even if he wanted to:

he’s alone by design, even when he has those who would be willing to help nearby.

and that’s the tragedy of it all, isn’t it?