I got BG3 and Dragon Age Veilguard brainrot. I'm 30, she/her tbh I don't care. call me whatever.
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We looked inside some of the posts by revoltingbones and here's what we found interesting.
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Reply Per Post
404
Time Between Posts
8 hours
Number of Posts By Type
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16
Photo
1
Last Seen Tumblr Blogs
Fun Fact
Tumblr has a low social media market share in South America.
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me messaging a casual acquaintance: hello, how are you?
me messaging a best friend w/zero lead-in:
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Roommate psychological warfare chamber
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joking that an adult character who acts childish doesnt know what sex is will never be as funny as saying the same thing about a big tough murderman videogame protag
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Headcanon: Emmrich gives good hugs.... if you're shorter than him. He's a bit awkward with hugs with people taller than him, because the last time he got a hug from a taller person.... it was his parents.
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I’m getting this made into a bandana/altar cloth because I still love this silly game. See if you can spot all the mourn watch/emmrich images!! It’ll be in my shop eventually, I’ll keep you all updated 💚
https://wecrowinghens.etsy.com
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I wish they'd let Wyll be angry, specifically: angry for himself, not just for other people. I wish they'd let him yell at his dad. I wish they'd let the player tell Wyll that it's okay to love your dad but still feel hurt and betrayed by him. Let the guy vent all that pent up negative emotion for goodness sake. Give him a scene or three where Theo Solomon could flex his voice acting skills.
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People will literally be doing anything on ao3
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Mayuri, why ya sooo rude to sexy Shunsui? Hw dare ya! Lmao Mayuri's face at the end 🤣🤣
@r473n @villainsrtasty @toxictaicho @azur3sunsettia @darthwhorecrux @srtruth @bleachbabee @koalaoffandoms
@myrottingbrain @wordsfromthymouth
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every single fucking thing on earth exists solely to put a dent in your newly applied nail polish
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what do you call an over-used, unoriginal concept for a crow rook?
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Emmrich is tired, you guys.
He has been tired before, he has lived a few years by this point.
It wasn’t so long ago that he would be up late, trying to find the time to tailor individual lessons for eight separate students while still performing his duties in the Necropolis, and attending to his side passions and research on lichdom.
And now, just like then, Manfred rattles in with a tea tray and interrupts his thoughts with cajoling hisses. Emmrich doesn’t taste the tea when he gulps it down.
He recalls sleepless nights with Johanna, arguing and prompting and critiquing papers and theories and experiments, driven by passion, fueled by caffeine and lyrium, and often piloted by sheer spite.
He throws a cloth over Johanna now when she spits vitriol at him. “Pull yourself together Volkarin! The world is ending!”
Before that it was sleepless nights in a dormitory, chased by his nightmares into the waking world to sit in a dark puddle of sheets and sweat, waiting for the darkness to fall in and crush the life out of him.
He has been tired often in his life. But this is a different sort of tired.
This goes beyond exhaustion
He is no longer motivated by his duty, or lifted by Manfred’s tea.
He can no longer hear the nagging of Johanna’s skull.
He has no time for the fear that tries to claw its’ way out of his chest where he has locked it away.
Last time he gave into it, it cost him everything.
It cost him Rook.
He is so tired of being afraid.
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