#there are more recent memories but i dont want to think of them and this one was funny so

[caffeinatedopossum]

I feel like I have an unacceptably low level of control over my body. Like obviously there are some things that no one can control but I have like actual big problems because of it. I'm not really sure how to describe it but it's not just me being really clumsy (although that is an effect of it) or even the tics I have.

It's like I can feel my body moving wrong constantly but I can't correct it and it hurts and it sucks and I'm tired. I'm tired of hurting myself, making mistakes, breaking things, acting like it's fine when in reality I'm constantly afraid of how much any movement I make next could hurt me. I need to move to stay sane, I want to workout and get stronger and go on walks with my friends. I wanna get better. I can't even roll over in bed without pain and I'm just so tired.

[klonoadoortophantomile]

everyone always seems to have this crazy story of how they got into object shows but i literally just got into them cuz my brother made me watch them with him

[orcelito]

L m f a o I think I know who sent the "entitled little shit" anon last night actually

Not naming names but it's nice to actually be able to block them

[snixx]

Hi random question but what's one good and one bad memory you have?

Also i love your blog!

HI thank you!

good memory: mm very random but i think this was like (almost exactly, now that i think about it) two years ago, i was rewatching the journey episode of glee and my dad came home really early from work with samosas as a surprise:D i distinctly remember eating mine while quinn fabray was having her baby and harmonizing her screams to bohemian rhapsody and it was so iconic. and then i watched audition right after that and the scene where kurt got slushied made me really want a slushee because it was HOT so I looked up "how to make a slushee" and made a watermelon one. my parents went out for some reason?? after that so i had their room to myself and I decided to have a me-party. so I stayed up till like 3am drinking slushees straight from the freezer and reading final draft (by riley redgate) with my carly rae jepson/alicia keys playlist in the background. that was a really really good day and i think i remembered it because i was watching journey again like a week back and really started craving samosas kjsdfhjsgh

bad memory: ooooooof. my go to answer for this is that time i stabbed a girl in the head with a compass in the third grade because i wanted to be her friend and didn't know how to approach her and didn't understand why she was mad at me after. yes this really happened. eight year old me was REALLY dense socially speaking. then i realized id. fucking STABBED her and spent the whole weekend hating myself over it and thinking i was evil but she suddenly became super friendly to me on monday?? like we'd barely talked before but were suddenly best friends friendly?? so i must have been onto something i will never understand eight year olds man. but YEAH I successfully managed to get compasses banned for the entirety of the junior school so that was. something

[our-lady-of-mcr]

.

[marmorenshud]

in better news, I made rolls without a recipe yesterday and they turned out good

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part seventeen

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, swearing, drug use, emotional outbursts, reckless rafe, mentions of substance abuse

author's note: Y'ALL let me clear up some confusion on the last chapter!! please note that rafe and y/n are on a break (no not in a ross and rachel type of way) so i promise the plot line is not that y/n cheated don't stone me OK anyways please enjoy dont hate me i promise im not here to dissapoint u all xoxo

The cozy afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows of the chateau, casting a warm glow over the living room. JJ and you found yourselves immersed in the absurd drama of a mindless reality TV show, sharing laughter and lighthearted banter.

As the ridiculous antics of the show unfolded on the screen, your legs were comfortably propped up on JJ's lap. He sat beside you on the couch, a bag of M&M's resting between the two of you. The crinkling sound of the candy bag echoed in the room as you both indulged in the colorful treats.

With each shared chuckle, you felt a sense of normalcy and comfort in the midst of recent chaos. The camaraderie between you and JJ, the simple joy of laughter, and the sweet companionship made that quiet afternoon a welcomed respite from the challenges you both faced.

During the commercial break, you turned to JJ, your eyes meeting in the dim glow of the living room. The TV cast a soft flicker across your faces as you gathered the courage to broach the subject.

"Hey, JJ," you began, "I was thinking, with everything going on and me recovering, do you mind covering my shifts at the golf course for a while?"

JJ met your gaze with a warm smile. "Sure thing, Y/N. I've always wanted to be a bev cart guy." You chuckled at his response, appreciating the lighthearted moment amidst the challenges you were facing.

JJ couldn't help but feel a warm sense of satisfaction as he watched you laugh. The dim light of the TV reflected in your eyes, accentuating the joy that danced within them. The dimples that formed on the sides of your mouth made the moment even more enchanting for him.

In that lighthearted exchange, as laughter echoed in the chateau's living room, JJ felt a growing connection with you. It was a simple moment, but the intimacy of sharing laughter brought a sense of comfort and pleasure, making it a memory he cherished.

JJ cleared his throat, realizing the shift in the atmosphere after his lighthearted joke. He tried to regain composure by placing his hand on your thigh, attempting a casual move, but the unintended tension in the air made the situation awkward.

"Yeah, um," you responded, sitting up straighter as an awkward cough escaped. The playful moment took an unexpected turn, leaving a subtle discomfort that lingered between you and JJ, "thank you for doing this for me. You've made this process a lot easier." Your gaze remained on your lap, not wanting to acknowledge the longing look in JJ's eyes.

JJ nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Of course, Y/N. Anything for you," he replied, a genuine warmth in his voice. The acknowledgment of your appreciation made the air a bit lighter, but the unspoken tension still hung in the room.

JJ got up from the couch, stretching slightly. "Well, time to hit the golf course. Gotta keep those beverage carts in check, you know?" he said with a playful grin. You nodded, appreciating the levity he brought to the situation. "I'll be back later. Take it easy, okay?" JJ added, his eyes reflecting concern for your well-being.

JJ returned, the fabric of his golf course uniform emphasizing his athletic build. He flashed a charming smile at you, his dimples deepening as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. "I'll be back before you know it. Remember, call me if you need anything," he reassured you, his words carrying a genuine warmth that lingered in the air after he left.

"Thanks Jay." You flashed him a weak smile, a subtle hum in your response.

With a soft smile and a parting "Course," JJ headed out, leaving you to relax in the comfort of the chateau. The door closed with a gentle click, and you settled into the solitude, thoughts swirling as you contemplated the recent events and the uncertain path ahead.

-

Meanwhile, at the golf course, Rafe was trying to find some semblance of normalcy in the routine of hitting golf balls. Topper and Kelce joined him, bantering about their day and cracking jokes as they took turns at the driving range. The rhythmic thud of the golf balls echoed in the air, providing a temporary distraction for Rafe's restless mind.

Suddenly, Topper spoke up, snapping Rafe out of his focus on his swing, "No shit. Looks like Maybank is tagging in for your girl's job today."

Rafe looked up, somewhat surprised by the mention of your name. "Yeah, apparently," he replied, trying to sound nonchalant despite the mix of emotions swirling within him. "She's probably taking some time off or something." The casual tone of his voice masked the turmoil he felt at the thought of you needing time away, especially after the events that transpired.

Topper chuckled, nudging Rafe with his elbow. "Guess you'll be seeing a lot more of her then, huh? Playing the knight in shining armor while she's on the mend?"

Rafe tried to shrug it off, taking another swing at the golf ball. "Just covering a shift, man. No big deal."

Kelce joined in, smirking. "Sure, Rafe, just a shift. We all know how protective you get when it comes to her."

Rafe's jaw tightened, a mix of irritation and guilt coursing through him. He tried to maintain his composure, hiding the internal struggle he was facing.

"Yeah, whatever," Rafe replied with a dismissive tone, forcing a nonchalant smirk. Despite his attempts to act unfazed, the mention of you stirred a swirl of conflicting emotions within him.

As they continued hitting balls, Rafe couldn't shake off the thought of you. He wondered what you were doing, how you were feeling. The weight of guilt lingered as he tried to focus on the golf game, his mind drifting back to the events that led to your hospitalization.

Topper chuckled, glancing at Rafe. "Maybe we should call over your new replacement. What do you think, Rafe?" he teased.

Rafe's grip on the golf club tightened, his jaw clenching for a moment. He shot a glare at Topper, his attempt at maintaining composure waning. "Shut up, Topper. Just focus on your swing."

Topper smirked, nudging Rafe with his elbow. "Come on, man. Let's call over the 'new bev cart girl' and see how well he handles the job."

Rafe shot Topper a sharp look, irritation evident in his eyes. "Leave it, Topper."

Kelce, sensing the tension, chimed in, "Alright, alright, no need to get all worked up."

Topper couldn't resist pushing further, calling out to JJ in a mocking tone, "Hey, Maybank! We heard you're taking over Y/N's job today. Guess you'll be delivering drinks and flirting with the kooks too."

JJ, annoyed by the insinuation, rolled his eyes and approached the group. "Give it a rest, Topper. Just trying to cover Y/N's shifts while she's recovering."

Topper chuckled, making a snarky comment, "Recovering, huh? Must've been a wild night for you two."

JJ's jaw tensed, his eyes narrowing at Topper. "Mind your own damn business, Topper. Y/N and I are just friends."

"Friends who share a lot of secrets, I bet," Topper teased, clearly enjoying getting under JJ's skin.

JJ couldn't hold back his irritation any longer. "You know, Topper, maybe if you focused on your swing as much as you focus on everyone else's business, you'd actually improve."

Rafe chuckled at JJ's retort, finding some amusement in the banter. The tension between them remained, but for now, the golf course banter served as a distraction from the more complicated emotions lingering beneath the surface.

Kelce stepped forward, shooting a warning look at Topper. "Dude, chill. Back off a bit."

JJ chuckled, enjoying the humor of the situation. He waved off the situation, deciding it was better to walk away than engage further. As he strolled away from the group, he couldn't help but notice the lingering tension, especially from Rafe.

As JJ walked away, the golf course seemed to echo with the tension between Rafe, Topper, and Kelce. Rafe's gaze lingered on JJ's retreating figure, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. The crisp sound of golf balls hitting the grass around them served as a stark contrast to the simmering emotions among the group.

Topper wore a mischievous grin, clearly reveling in the opportunity to stir the pot. He leaned in, taunting Rafe with remarks about JJ and you, trying to get a rise out of him. Kelce, sensing the tension, urged Topper to back off, but the damage was done.

Rafe's clenched fists betrayed the storm of jealousy raging inside him. The idea of someone else taking care of you when he believed it should have been him was a bitter pill to swallow. The golf course, once a place of leisure, now became a battleground for unresolved emotions and unspoken desires.

Rafe's temper boiled over like an erupting volcano. He flung his golf club with unrestrained force, the metal clattering as it hit the ground. In that explosive moment, his frustration and jealousy manifested in that single, violent action. Without a word, he stormed off the course, his steps heavy and purposeful, leaving behind a stunned Topper and Kelce.

The intensity of his reaction lingered in the air, a palpable tension that echoed through the golf course. Rafe's car door slammed shut, a resounding punctuation mark to the scene he left behind. The once serene atmosphere of the golf course now carried the weight of unspoken emotions and the consequences of a jealousy-fueled outburst.

"Fuck!" Rafe's voice exploded in a torrent of frustration as he hurled his golf club away, the metallic clatter blending with the ambient sounds of the golf course. In a seething rage, he stormed off the course, each step a declaration of his boiling anger. Reaching his car, he slammed the door shut and unleashed another curse, pounding his fist against the steering wheel. "Damn it!"

The air in the car became thick with tension as Rafe's frustration reached its peak. His knuckles turned white as he clenched the steering wheel, the metal groaning under the force of his grip. His breaths were heavy, each exhale carrying a hint of desperation and torment. The dimly lit interior of the car bore witness to the storm raging within him, the dashboard reflecting the twisted expressions that crossed his face – a turbulent sea of regret, jealousy, and self-loathing. In that moment, the weight of his actions pressed down on him like an unbearable burden, and tears streamed down his face, marking the depth of his turmoil.

The sounds of Rafe's anguished sobs reverberated through the confined space of the car, echoing the depths of his despair. His shoulders shook with the weight of his emotions as he laid his head on the steering wheel, seeking solace in the cold touch of the metal. Each sob was a painful admission of the havoc he had wreaked on his own life, a symphony of regret and sorrow that painted the interior of the car in the hues of his torment. The glow of the dashboard served as a silent witness to the unraveling of a soul burdened by its own choices, a heartbreaking melody played out in the confined solitude of the vehicle.

As Rafe's sobs subsided, leaving an eerie stillness in the air, he wiped away the remnants of his tears and took a deep breath. The realization of the damage he had inflicted upon his own life hung heavily in the air. Gathering his composure, he straightened up in the driver's seat, his face a canvas of emotional turmoil.

-

Later that night, at the chateau, you found solace in the comfort of your room, immersed in the chaotic world of Jersey Shore on your screen. The dim glow of the television cast a soft ambiance, providing a temporary escape from the recent tumultuous events. The familiar banter and antics of the reality TV cast served as a momentary distraction, allowing you to detach from the complications of your own reality. The room echoed with the scripted drama of the show, a stark contrast to the unscripted chaos that had unfolded in your life.

As the characters on the screen navigated their tumultuous relationships, you found a strange comfort in their exaggerated drama, the absurdity of their situations a welcome distraction. The rhythmic crunching of Cheez-Its provided a simple, satisfying soundtrack to the unfolding chaos on the television.

Wrapped in a cozy blanket, you allowed yourself to get lost in the antics of Snooki and the gang, temporarily forgetting the complexities awaiting you outside the fictional realm. The glow of the TV bathed the room in a warm, artificial light, creating a cocoon of familiarity and routine amid the recent upheaval.

Lost in the mindless entertainment, you relished this respite from the storm that had swept through your life, if only for a brief moment. The cheery, mindless laughter from the show mingled with the occasional rustle of the snack bag, forming a soothing backdrop to your solitary night of escapism.

The sudden buzz of your phone disrupted the faux-reality unfolding on the TV screen. You retrieved the device, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Rafe's name illuminated on the display. Uncertainty and a tinge of nervousness swept over you as you contemplated answering or letting it go to voicemail.

A million thoughts raced through your mind – the recent events, the hurtful incident, and the unresolved emotions that lingered in the air. You hesitated for a moment, the allure of a potential conversation with Rafe conflicting with the fear of reopening wounds. The room, once a haven of mindless entertainment, now felt charged with anticipation.

With a deep breath, you decided to answer, your thumb sliding across the screen to accept the call. The line connected, and you braced yourself for the unknown, unsure of what awaited you on the other end of the conversation.

"Hey," you greeted Rafe, your voice carrying a mix of hesitation and confusion.

"Y/N," Rafe's voice slurred on the other end, accompanied by the faint sounds of background chaos. The shakiness in his tone hinted at a state of inebriation, leaving you with a mixture of concern and discomfort. The unexpected turn of events added another layer of uncertainty to an already complex situation.

"What's going on?" you asked cautiously, your mind trying to decipher the situation through the limited cues in his voice.

"I messed up," Rafe admitted, his words heavy with regret. The disjointed nature of his speech suggested a lack of coherence, and you couldn't help but wonder how deeply his actions had affected him.

"I fucking miss you, Y/N," Rafe confessed, his words laced with a raw emotion that transcended the haze of his intoxicated state. As the sincerity in his voice resonated through the phone, you couldn't ignore the impact his admission had on you.

There was a momentary silence, only broken by the distant sounds of the party or gathering Rafe seemed to be in. It was a stark contrast to the weight of his words, creating a surreal atmosphere.

Rafe continued, his voice softer, "I messed up, and I… I just needed to hear your voice."

You could hear the vulnerability in his tone, and it stirred conflicting emotions within you. Despite the hurt he caused, the sincerity in his words touched a chord.

"Rafe, where are you? Are you okay?" Concern laced your voice, and you couldn't help but feel a mixture of worry and empathy for him.

Rafe took a moment before responding, the background noise suggesting he was in a lively and chaotic environment. "I'm at this stupid fucking party," he muttered, the disdain evident in his words. "I need you, y/n. It's killing me that I can't touch you or even see your face."

As he spoke, you couldn't ignore the tug of conflicting emotions within you. While his vulnerability struck a chord, the memories of the recent events and the pain he caused were still fresh in your mind.

"Rafe…" Your voice softened, a mixture of sympathy and caution evident as you spoke his name.

He interrupted you, the alcohol evident in his slurred speech. "Look, I-I know I fucked up. Big time. I don't know what to do." There was a rawness in his voice, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you processed his words. Despite the hurt he caused, you couldn't completely shut off the empathy you felt for someone clearly struggling. "Rafe, maybe you should go home and sleep it off. We can talk tomorrow when you're in a better state."

Rafe's response was a defeated murmur. "I just… I miss you so damn much."

The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you torn between compassion and self-preservation.

Reluctantly, you agreed, deciding that making sure Rafe was safe took precedence over your own discomfort. "Okay, fine. Just… send me the address of where you are."

Rafe clumsily managed to type out the address in his inebriated state. As you received the message, you couldn't help but shake your head, a mix of frustration and concern settling in. After a moment's hesitation, you texted back, "Stay put. I'll be there soon."

Turning off the TV, you quickly changed into something more presentable, preparing yourself for a night that seemed to be taking unexpected turns.

Your footsteps echoed in the quiet night as you hurriedly made your way to the car. The cool evening air did little to ease the tension that wrapped around you. As you drove to the address Rafe had sent, a myriad of thoughts raced through your mind. The uncertainty of what you were about to walk into gnawed at you, but concern for Rafe propelled you forward.

The drive seemed to stretch on longer than usual, each passing streetlight casting shadows that mirrored the anxiety building within you. You arrived at the destination, a dimly lit area that seemed to amplify the weight of the situation. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for whatever lay ahead and stepped out of the car, determined to face the tumultuous night with Rafe.

The chaotic scene unfolded before you as you navigated through the rowdy crowd of inebriated teenagers. Their laughter and cheers mingled with the distant music, creating a dissonant backdrop to your urgent calls for Rafe. You scanned the front yard, searching for any sign of him, but the chaos made it challenging to discern individual faces.

The flickering glow of party lights illuminated the scene, casting an eerie ambiance on the gathering. Despite the lively atmosphere, an unsettling tension lingered in the air. Your calls for Rafe went unanswered, drowned out by the revelry around you. Determined, you pushed through the crowd, determined to find him and ensure he was safe amidst the chaos.

Your determination carried you through the dense crowd inside the house, the pulse of the music and the chatter of partygoers reverberating through the walls. As you pushed your way towards the living room, the energy of the crowd seemed to intensify. You soon reached the epicenter of attention, discovering a swirling mass of people encircling a couch and a coffee table.

A mixture of curiosity and anxiety fueled your movements as you elbowed your way to the front of the crowd, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. The chaotic scene unfolded before your eyes, revealing a tableau of excess and debauchery. As the sea of bodies parted, you finally saw Rafe in the midst of it all, his eyes glassy and his demeanor far from composed. The weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders, and you knew that this night held unforeseen challenges.

A mix of shock, concern, and disappointment washed over you as you observed the scene unfolding before you. The group of girls surrounding Rafe seemed to revel in the chaos, cheering him on with enthusiasm that only fueled the reckless atmosphere. The sight of Rafe snorting a line of coke, his head tilting back as he inhaled the substance, left a bitter taste in your mouth.

As the crowd continued to revel in the spectacle, you felt a growing sense of urgency. The reality of Rafe's actions hit you, and you knew you couldn't stand idly by. Determination fueled your steps as you pushed through the onlookers, your focus solely on reaching Rafe and addressing the concerning situation at hand.

"Rafe? What the fuck is this?" Your voice cut through the chaos as you confronted Rafe, the intensity of the situation reflected in your expression. The cheers and laughter around you faded into the background as you locked eyes with him, demanding an explanation for the reckless scene playing out before you.

Rafe, seemingly caught off guard, looked up from the table, his eyes meeting yours. There was a moment of hesitation in his gaze, a mix of guilt and surprise. The atmosphere in the room shifted, tension hanging thick in the air as you awaited his response.

"Y/N," Rafe mumbled, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and the effects of the substances he had just taken. He absentmindedly wiped his nose, a visible sign of his actions.

The room fell into a momentary silence, broken only by the distant sounds of the party continuing in the background. Your eyes remained fixed on him, waiting for an explanation or any sign of recognition. The gravity of the situation sank in, and a mix of emotions swirled within you—anger, disappointment, and a twinge of concern for someone you once cared about deeply.

"Rafey, who is this?" One of the inebriated girls besides Rafe chimed in, much to your dismay.

Ignoring the girl, you locked eyes with Rafe, your expression a mix of confusion and frustration. "What the hell is going on, Rafe?"

He struggled to focus, his gaze flickering between you and the party unfolding around him. "I just wanted to forget, y/n. Forget everything," he slurred, the weight of his words punctuated by the chaos of the party.

The room continued to buzz with energy as the partygoers paid little attention to the unfolding drama. The atmosphere was tense, and you felt a whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

"C'mon Rafe, we're leaving." You grabbed Rafe's arm, pulling him away from the crowd. The girls protested, but you ignored them, determined to get him out of this chaotic scene. Rafe stumbled as he followed you, his movements unsteady.

As you made your way through the crowded house, you couldn't help but feel a mix of disappointment and concern. You guided Rafe towards the door, eager to remove him from the toxic environment. The night had taken an unexpected turn, and you were left grappling with the reality of the situation.

Rafe ended up following you out to your car, stumbling as he tried to keep up with you. You opened the passenger door in an attempt to help him in, but before you could be successful with doing so, he stopped you.

"Y/N, wait," Rafe called out, his voice wavering.

You turned to look at him, your hand still on the car door, waiting for an explanation.

Rafe took a deep breath, his eyes filled with remorse. "I fucking miss you, and I hate knowing fucking JJ is the one who is taking care of you when it should be me," he admitted, his words hanging heavy in the air.

"I can't, Y/N," Rafe said, stopping you from closing the car door. His eyes were pleading, and his voice trembled with vulnerability. "I can't take care of you like he can. I messed everything up, and I don't deserve you."

You sighed, torn between frustration and concern. "Rafe, just get in the car. We can talk about this later," you urged, wanting to address the situation at hand first.

Rafe took a step back, rubbing his temples as if trying to push away a headache. "I messed up, Y/N. I messed up everything," he admitted, his voice strained. "I thought I could protect you and fix things, but I only made them worse. I can't compete with JJ. He's been there for you, taking care of you, and I… I just have to watch from afar."

You looked at him, seeing the pain in his eyes. Despite the turmoil of the situation, a part of you couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Rafe, please," you pleaded, your voice a hushed whisper, "not here. Let's get you home, and we can talk about it later."

He nodded, still looking disoriented, and you managed to guide him into the car. The girls who had gathered around seemed disappointed, but you ignored their judgmental stares. You closed the car door, and as you got behind the wheel, you couldn't shake the feeling that things had taken a turn for the worse.

As you drove Rafe home, he sat silently in the passenger seat, occasionally letting out a quiet apology. The atmosphere in the car was heavy with tension, and you couldn't shake off the worry that had settled in your chest. The Rafe you knew was put-together and conscious of his image, replaced by this version consumed by substances and self-destruction. You kept stealing glances at him, the apology in his eyes mirroring the internal turmoil within you.

You arrived at the Cameron's home, the emptiness of the house mirroring the void you felt within yourself. Assisting Rafe out of the car, you couldn't shake the worry and frustration that had taken root in your mind. The place felt desolate, echoing the emptiness of the situation between you and Rafe. You had Rafe's arm draped over your shoulder, his incoherent murmurs echoing in the silent house. Each step felt like a heavy burden, a somber atmosphere surrounding you as you helped him inside.

"Alright Rafe, you're gonna have to help me get you up the stairs," You struggled to support Rafe's weight as you reached the foot of the staircase. His movements were sluggish, and you knew you needed his cooperation to navigate the stairs safely.

"Y/n," Rafe groaned, stumbling up the stairs, "you've ruined me."

You rolled your eyes, a mixture of annoyance and concern etching your expression. Guiding him up the stairs, you replied, "You've done a pretty good job of that yourself, Rafe."

Rafe's words slurred as he leaned against the wall, struggling to maintain his balance. "N-No, it's killing me without you here," he mumbled, his eyes glazed and unfocused.

You sighed, realizing the gravity of the situation. "Rafe, let's get you to bed. We can talk about everything tomorrow when you're sober."

With effort, you managed to guide him to his room. He collapsed onto the bed, his eyes heavy with intoxication. As you turned to leave, he weakly grabbed your hand.

"Don't leave, Y/n," he pleaded, his vulnerability piercing through the haze of substances.

You hesitated, torn between sympathy and frustration. "Rafe, you need to rest. We'll talk in the morning."

"Y/n, please stay," Rafe pleaded, his eyes filled with desperation. "I can't handle being alone right now. I need you."

You sighed, torn between your concern for him and the boundaries you had set. The night had taken unexpected turns, and you found yourself grappling with the aftermath of Rafe's emotional outburst.

"I'll stay for a little while," you relented, pulling a chair closer to his bed. "But we need to talk about everything, Rafe. Tomorrow, when you're sober."

He nodded, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes as you settled in to keep watch over him through the night. "Will you at least lay with me?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of the implications, but eventually, you sighed and joined Rafe on the bed. He rested his head on your stomach, and you gently ran your fingers through his hair. The room was filled with a heavy silence, interrupted only by Rafe's soft breathing.

As you lay there, you couldn't help but reflect on the events of the day. The unexpected twists and turns had left you emotionally drained. The boundaries you had carefully set seemed to blur in the face of Rafe's vulnerability.

You decided that tomorrow would bring clarity, a chance to address the issues that had surfaced. For now, you focused on providing some comfort to Rafe, hoping that the morning light would bring a clearer perspective on the tangled emotions surrounding you both.

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d

[littlestpetgoth]

Tell us more about your little homestucks?

ok.. ill only go over my descendent ocs because they're the ones ive been posting about recently, i have too many homestuck ocs to cover lol..

mayosi pyrope is the first descendent oc i made back when there was a brief trend on twitter to make, fan descendants of the trolls. i think i was inspired by ko's descendent acarid, and terezi being one of my favorite trolls i ended up making a bootleg pyrope. (and i draw them together all the time bc they rot my brain)

they're a radical transmasc weeaboo skater "vigilante" who grew up being raised by humans in a very normal average household where they got basically anything they wanted with no issues. their interests include; dishing out justice, watching animes, playing videogames, and doing sick tricks on their board. they wield a katana that resembles terezi's dragon cane.. they're my simplest designed character, and though they look a lot like terezi with a skirt and long hair their design was heavily influenced by dirk because i imagined that dirk has influenced some kind of anime character that mayosi obsesses over and has based their look on..

they aren't at all interested in, being a lawyer or anything like that and would like to take care of bad guys samurai batman style in their ideal world.. unfortunately the loving gently parenting of their human family didn't toughen them up enough so they're mostly a baby who doesn't do well when faced with conflict. mayosi's easily bossed around by anyone who firmly tells them to do something because they're too scared to step up and stand up for themself and others, they have a lot of shame for not being as strong and cool as terezi or red glare. real wet blanket.

uuuh like terezi, they weren't always blind. they were lured in by their ex best friend now super complex hate not boyfriend acarid and he poured acid into their eyes, ruining their vision and giving them crazy chem burn scars.. i think around this time they were also given their super rad pointy shades so they can look more like their hero, but it was a major blow to their confidence since not only are they a weak coward they're now a weak coward who can't see. they eventually learn to navigate the world via sound waves, its not as effective as terezi's sniff and taste vision but mayosi isnt as interested as smelling and licking everything in their presence.

example of what i think it's like for them here..

theyyy are convinced by acarid to join him in his perfect sburb sesh, where they eventually grow a pair and cut off his arm and gouge his eyes before being shot in the brain and killed dead without ever waking on their moon. (sad) mayosi's feelings about acarid, who essentially abuses and manipulates them constantly, are very complicated because they feel an obligation to take on the brunt of his crazy in order to protect everyone but also because they cling to the nostalgic memories they have of him and are hoping he'll one day go back to that.

kokesi megido is based on kokeshi dolls, i think she sees ghosts and is really scared of them so she's super skittish and is always finding ways to shoo them away.. she probably knows how to speak japanese ig, i dont have a lot to say about her unfortunately.. i like how her design turned out though.

grimir maryam and romato vantas are brothers adopted into a rich human family, they're both spoiled brats and are constantly bickering with each other when they aren't pretending the other exists. grimir is mute and likes to garden (sooo original, i know) and romato speaks a lot and is a hopeless romantic writer. shrug.

i don't have as much to talk about. for any of my descendents other than mayosi because i have a really hard time developing ocs when i dont have people to bounce ideas off of. i mean most of mayosi was formed around acarid's existence and from ko's influence, otherwise they also wouldn't be developed . sorry .

[roomsofangel]

LOVER, PLEASE STAY

chapter four

synopsis you and wooyoung have been best friends for as long as you could remember, always overcoming everything in your friendship even after a few bumps in the road and confessions in the past. you could always trust that no matter wooyoung will always be there, right?

wc 4.3k

chapter warnings mentions of drug usage, wooyoung and yn have an argument / wooyoung breaks down

a/n the fact i update this either everyday or every other day… but hope you guys dont mind </3 the next update will be a little slower due to work and trying to bag these ateez tickets with my partner 🙁

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ♥️

“something’s wrong with wooyoung," san mentioned one morning while handing you a dish from beside you that you started washing. you shifted your gaze away from the sink and water and towards him as he leaned against the counter. his side pressed on it a bit more as he continued, "i don't know... but, you notice it, too. don’t you?" his breath came out in an exasperated exhale as he waited for your response.

you gazed down, wanting nothing more than to just focus on how the warm water poured on your hands. the moment was quiet for a few minutes, and your mind raced with all kinds of thoughts. the uncertainty, the silence, and the tension between you and wooyoung recently that was becoming more apparent with every passing day. the strain was starting to wear on you, and that was obvious to everyone around you. “it’s hard not to.” you finally answered after a few minutes of silence, and your voice was solemn and tired.

san frowned at your response, and his expression became more concerned. you could sense the distress in his voice. "do you think we should intervene? what if he ends up like—?“ he started to say, but you interrupted him.

"don't." you said, and your tone was firm. you knew what he was going to say, and you didn't want to hear or think about it. your mind was already spiraling enough, and you didn't need him adding more to it.

san remained silent, looking at you with a mixture of concern and confusion. "but what if..." he began to say but stopped himself, realizing that you already knew. you had already considered that possibility, and it was not something you wanted to think about any further.

“just drop it, okay?" you said, your voice more firm than before as you tried to stop the spiral of thought that was quickly starting to take hold.

san sighed, and the silence that followed weighed heavier than before. "i talked to seonghwa too, you know," he mention. the statement felt somewhat out of place and sudden, and it only added to the tension that surrounded you both. you could sense the strain and stress building up in his words, and you wondered what else he knew or had heard.

"he's worried," san continued, "and so are the rest... they know something's up too. all of them do. but if they ask me, i don't know if i should tell them or not. i mean, it's wooyoung’s own business. i can't just let the secret slip, but.." his voice trailed off, and he let out a long, tired exhale.

"...that’s exactly the problem," san continued, "it’s his own business, but we're all worried about him. i mean, he hasn't been himself for a while now. he’s more reserved, more distant, and there is this strange tension between him and the rest of us. like he's hiding something, or he's just... not there. not fully there."

when you finally became aware of your grip on the dish, the dishes in front of you had already become clean. you were so lost in your thoughts, your head overflowing with memories and worries, that you had failed to notice the mundane task you were supposed to be doing. "i know.." you whispered, because you did. and it pained you that you couldn’t do anything but watch wooyoung destroy himself, or at least that's what it felt like.

"and... and it hurts," you continued softly, as if the admission was too painful for you to keep silent any longer. "it hurts to see him like this, to see him become something... someone that he's not. to see him shut himself off from all of us, to close himself in his own world and not let anyone else in. it’s painful and exhausting."

"he’s like a shell of himself," you went on. "i mean, he's still wooyoung, but... he's not at the same time. and i know i shouldn't say this... but it feels like we've lost him. like the wooyoung we all knew is gone, and there's just... this shell of a person left."

san nodded as he listened to you. he saw the pain and worry in your eyes, and he knew that you needed reassurance. so he held his arms out for you, inviting a hug. "it’s gonna be okay," he tried to reassure the both of you, but he didn't seem so sure himself. it was clear from his tone that he was just as worried, just as unsure. but he needed to remain strong, he needed to believe that things would work out. after all, it had to.

you laid in your bed, staring up at your ceiling and reminiscing over memories. they were just that, memories. it felt like ages ago, it felt like a whole different world. you were weeping over someone who was still alive, and it made no sense. how did you mourn for someone who was still standing in front of you, with a heart still beating? with a breath still being taken at regular intervals? with thoughts that were still running through their head, and feelings that were still taking place in their veins?

you tried to ignore the tears that were threatening to pour at any moment. everything in your room was a reminder of wooyoung and who he used to be. you could see him across the hall in his own bedroom, but...was that really still him? his demeanor seemed to have changed so dramatically that it no longer resembled the person you fell in love with initially. he was becoming someone else, someone you didn't recognize. and you didn't know if you could handle it anymore.

hearing your phone buzz, you shifted to your side to grab it and take a look. it was hongjoong’s text, asking if you wanted to come to see a movie with him and seonghwa. you recalled the last time you spoke with him, and remembered the intensity of the conversation. sure, he was deeply worried about you and was telling you things you needed to hear that night. but it only made you want to hide more since it meant you had to acknowledge more that you and wooyoung were no longer the same.

you wanted to continue living in the blissful bubble you had created where the two of you were fine, and nothing had changed. but the more time you spent in that space, the more the realities of the situation began to sink in, and the more the cracks in your bubble started to appear. so you avoided talking about the truth for as long as you could, until it got to the point where you could no longer deny it.

“that’s your problem, yn!” hongjoong looked at you with a concerned expression as he stood in front of you with san and seonghwa who matched the same energy. they had seen the situation unfold before enough times to know better than to intervene or get in the way when hongjoong was like this.

as he continued, he spoke louder, like he was trying to get through to you. "you give yourself away to people who keep shoving those parts of you back into your hands," he ranted, becoming more frustrated with each word.

you looked at him with teary eyes, knowing the truth but not wanting to face it. “i know this isn’t what you want to hear but you need to hear this, yn. because i don’t know if you know this but putting a light inside the house your soul died in will not stop it from haunting you.” hongjoong looked at you and his words hit deeper than you expected

"you need to let that light go," he continued, his voice becoming even more impassioned. "you need to let go of the pain, the anger, the sadness, and the guilt that you've held onto for so long. you need to come to terms with the fact that the house is empty, the light is gone, and it is time for you to move on."

when you stopped denying the truth, you began to see things clearer. hongjoong was right, you knew. "you need to let that light go," he had said, but the light he was referring to wasn't a literal one. it was... wooyoung. your best friend was the light you needed to let go of, to come to terms with the fact that it was gone and that you would never get it back.

"you’ve been hiding behind it for too long, too scared to let go," hongjoong persisted, "because if you let go, you would have to face the darkness that has clouded your mind, the feelings that you've been avoiding and refusing to acknowledge. it will be painful, it will be difficult. but it's the only way for you to truly heal."

you remained frozen in silence as hongjoong continued to speak, his words hitting home and piercing you with a truth that you had been actively avoiding. he was right, everything he said was true.

"hongjoong, that's enough," seonghwa’s gentle voice cut through the tension, calling for the confrontation to end. you glanced up and saw his reassuring hand placed gently on hongjoong’s shoulder.

"she’s dealt with enough," he continued. "she doesn't need to hear more, nor does she need to listen to any more harsh words."

as you spoke, your voice became thick, choked by the lump in your throat. "i just... don't want him to think i gave up on him."

"i don't want wooyoung to think i didn't give it my all..." your voice trailed off as you began to choke up. "but i..." you stopped, unable to continue as your tears continued to flow. "i just," you sighed, "i can't give up on him."

your voice cracked with every breath you took, and the tears continued to flow as the pain of realizing how impossible the situation had gotten began to sink in. "i know... i won't... give up on him," you whispered through your sniffles, your throat tight and your heart heavy.

later that night, you were cleaning up around the living space when you saw wooyoung stumbling in, clearly just waking up. you spoke softly to show that you knew he was there, and he grumbled in response. you exchanged a glance with him, noticing his disheveled appearance, and the dark circles under his eyes.

"are you alright?" you asked softly, his response was a grunt, followed by another grunt as he proceeded toward his room without a word. you followed him with your eyes, feeling guilty for asking him anything at all.

you watched as he stumbled back into his room, and a pang of guilt stabbed your heart. you knew he was going through a difficult time, and here you were asking him if he was okay. of course, he wasn't. and you knew that. but what else could you have done? you wanted to speak with him, to see him, to try and be there for him. but he didn't want to speak with you.

after he went into his room, you slowly continued cleaning up the shared space. you couldn't quite bring yourself to go to bed yet, even though you were exhausted. you took care to make sure things were as tidy and clean as they could be, despite the mess that was in your mind. your heart continued to ache with guilt and sadness for your best friend, and you wondered if there was anything you could have done to help him.

you decided to try one more time, gathering your courage and taking your time to slice his favorite fruits like you always did in the past when he was sad. you made your way into his dark room and saw that it was a mess, but you ignored the clutter and scattered clothing. you simply placed the plate of fruit on his bedside table and made a quiet retreat, just leaving the plate of fruit with him and not trying to talk to him again.

as you prepared to exit the room, your eyes scanned the entire space. your heart skipped a beat as your gaze landed on the small ziplock baggie in the corner. you tried to ignore it and pretend as if your mind was playing tricks on you. but you knew that it was real. you saw the tiny powder-like stains beneath the baggies, and you knew that it was more than just a reflection of the light.

you couldn't ignore the small pile of bags on the nightstand. instead, you found your eyes drawn to them, watching the glint of light off the powder-like stains beneath them. you knew what this was, and a chill ran down your spine as you finally accepted the truth. wooyoung's struggles were evident in the things he kept so hidden from you, the substance he kept close by.

it suddenly became very clear to you why wooyoung had been acting the way he had lately. his secretive behavior, the late nights, the withdrawn attitude. everything made sense now.

the truth hit you like a wave of ice-cold water. wooyoung had been using drugs. you had been blind to the signs and the warnings, but this was the confirmation you had been avoiding. and now, you couldn't avoid the reality anymore.

the shock slowly turned into sadness, like a weight settling in your stomach as you stood there, staring at the baggie of drugs on his nightstand. you were numb, frozen on the spot as you processed this revelation. wooyoung had always been so responsible, so sensible, so protective of you. never in a million years would you have imagined him turning to drugs to cope with his problems.

as you were about to leave the room, you were caught off guard by the sudden sound of wooyoung's voice. "you're... not supposed to see those," he rasped out, sounding exhausted and annoyed. you jumped a little at the sudden sound and his harsh tone, feeling like you'd been caught red-handed even though you knew you had every right to go into his room.

he sighed and sat up slowly, the mattress squeaking beneath his movement. "they’re just for me," wooyoung said in a low voice, his tone turning defensive. "they... they help me... cope," he continued, his voice trailing off at the end as he looked away from you. you noticed how he avoided your eyes, instead focusing on the floor below.

wooyoung’s words hung heavy in the air. they were clearly a crutch for him, helping him to cope with the pressures of life. but it was clear that they did little more than numb him. you watched as his eyes darted around the room as if he was nervous about something. his eyes flitted between the zipper bags on his nightstand, and he seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he stopped himself.

the tension in the air was palpable, and you could sense the heaviness in his breath. you couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind, what he wanted to say but couldn't.

“i can't let you keep destroying yourself, woo”, you said, your voice soft and compassionate. you didn't want to lecture him, you just tried your best to help him see the harm he was doing to himself. but he resisted your words, pushing back with his own defensiveness.

"please, just... let me have this," wooyoung said, a sharp edge to his tone. "don’t try and take this away from me, don't try and protect me. i’m fine, really. i can handle this," he snapped, his tone growing more frustrated. he didn't want you to interfere, didn't want you to try and protect him. he wanted to handle it on his own.

as you watched him, your heart broke even further. he wasn't fine, he wasn't handling it, he was using drugs to cope with his pain. and you were afraid of what would happen if he continued this way. wooyoung's eyes met yours, sharp with his anger, as he continued to resist your words. "don’t you trust me?" he said, suddenly looking more fragile than before.

"don’t you dare say that." you glared at him, feeling your anger rising as you struggled to control yourself. "you know i trust you, but i don't trust that..." you gestured to the baggies on his nightstand, your words heavy in the air. you could feel his defensiveness intensifying, a wall of bitterness rising as he felt he was being accused.

"you’re going to preach to me now, aren't you?" wooyoung glared at you, his frustration clear in his words. "tell me all about how drugs are bad, how they hurt our bodies, how they damage our brains, how they can't fill the void inside of us... is that what you're gonna say?"

wooyoung's glare was intense, his words dripping with hostility as he began to lash out. he knew how he used drugs to cope had been irresponsible and harmful, but he didn't want to be lectured about it. he felt defensive and angry, and he was not going to back down from this argument.

"so you just go right ahead and pretend as if it's not a problem." wooyoung continued, his frustration growing as he glared at you. "you know damn well that they help me cope, that they fill the void i feel inside of me. they make me feel numb, but at least i don't feel anything at all when i’m like this. so just let me have this, and stop trying to interfere."

you could feel your shoulders shaking, your eyes growing damp with tears as you looked at him. "what the hell happened to you, wooyoung?" you choked out the question, your throat clogging with emotion as you struggled to hold it together. you wanted to understand... you wanted to help him.

you saw his expression harden even further as he looked at you, his eyes no longer filled with anger, but rather something closer to contempt. as you choked back your tears, you realized that he seemed to think you were being dramatic. he didn't see the severity of his situation, didn't want to acknowledge that he was falling apart in front of you. your throat tightened as your eyes burned from the fight and the tears that were starting to fall.

you felt something growing inside of you as he stared at you with contempt. anger? hurt? you were feeling these emotions clash with one another as your eyes blurred with moisture. you wanted to yell that you cared about him, that you were just trying to help... but you knew it would fall on deaf ears. instead, you stayed silent, trying to hold back your sobs. it was like he didn't trust you anymore.

"oh... you're crying now, are you?" wooyoung said, his tone cutting and cold. "so you really do enjoy drama then, don't you? you want to try and make me feel worse than i already do, huh? well, you're not going to succeed, so save your tears for someone who cares."

his words stung, hitting everything that was vulnerable and painful inside you. you knew he knew what to say, which string he needed to tug on in order to hurt you the most. you tried to speak, but your voice shook and came out in a whisper. "stop." you tried to be stern, to defend yourself, but you knew that your defenses were crumbling away.

wooyoung smirked at you, and you wanted to slap him for the cruel way he was behaving. he seemed to be taking pleasure in the way he was hurting you, in the way he was tearing you down. he wasn't even hiding the fact that he knew exactly how to bring you down and tear you apart. he seemed to be enjoying it.

there was no holding back now, no restraint. your voice shot up in volume even as you tried to bite it back. "what have i ever done to you?" you looked at him, your eyes burning and your heart racing wildly. "what the hell have i done to deserve this?"

wooyoung stared at you, his eyes narrowing. he seemed to be considering the weight of your words, trying to decide if he wanted to answer honestly. after a moment, he seemed to just decide to be blunt with you. "you’ve never done anything to me," he finally replied simply.

"that's the thing," wooyoung said, his attitude finally starting to soften. "you haven't done a damn thing to me." he had finally stopped fighting back, and his tone had changed from one of anger and aggression to one that was just... tired.

"you’ve just... been there. being my friend. caring for me.. loving me." wooyoung’s voice cracked at the last word, and he seemed to be trying to control himself from breaking down.

"and what do you get out of it?" he took a deep sigh and rubbed his eyes. "me falling apart on drugs, making you cry, treating you like crap? is that what you deserve from your friend?"

he quickly cut you off when you began to open your mouth, stopping you from making any excuses for him. "don’t you start with the whole excuses for me, yn," he said. his tone was harsh, like a snapping order. he seemed to be trying to hold on to the last shred of his composure.

"please." his voice cracked on the last word, and his eyes suddenly filled with pain and sorrow. you could see the pain of his life finally coming to surface... the sadness and hopelessness that had been buried under the drugs and the denial finally coming back to haunt him.

he was so vulnerable, so fragile in this moment, and you couldn't help but feel heartbroken for him. the thought of him hurting like this, of him being so miserable and lost and alone, all because of the drugs and the denial, was unbearable. you wanted to reach out and comfort him, to hold him close and wipe away his pain, but you didn't know how.

"i know i’m not perfect, i know i’ve done things... i’ve hurt you..." wooyoung’s voice cracked and he paused, trying to collect himself. "i just... i’m so tired. i’m so tired of fighting, of trying to keep things together, of being in pain..."

he looked at you, and his eyes were filled with raw emotion.

"i don't want to give up on us," he continued. "you’ve been here for me... through everything... please don't give up on me."

wooyoung seemed to be opening up to you again, letting his walls down and showing you the real him. the one who was tired, scared, and scared of losing you. the one who was afraid of being alone. he looked at you, begging you to stay with him, not to give up on him like everyone else. he needed you.

“i can’t give up on you even if i tried,” your voice was quiet as you spoke this to him

"i know you can't give up on me, but i just don't know if i can... keep on like this." he seemed so miserable and exhausted, like he was on the brink of collapse. "i’m so tired," he continued, his voice shaking. "so tired of all the stress and anxiety and the fear of what's to come... i just..."

he paused again, as if trying to find the words to say all the things he was feeling. "i just don't have the strength to do this anymore," he finally admitted. "i’m tired of carrying all this weight on my shoulders, of pretending like everything is okay, when it's not... i’m just... i’m so fucking tired."

the words were pouring out of him, as if he had been holding them inside for a long time. the exhaustion and the pain, the weight and the worry, the fear and the grief... it was all finally coming out. his voice cracked, and he seemed to be fighting back the tears that were welling in his eyes.

wooyoung broke down finally, sobbing as his arms tremblingly folded around his torso. his body was racked with a mixture of sadness and pain, as he let the weight of his emotions finally take over. "i don't want to drag you down with me," he said, his voice trembling. "but i’m so damn selfish. you see, i’m so selfish that..." his words were beginning to be muffled, and he seemed to be struggling to continue.

"i don't want to lose you," he suddenly mumbled, his cheeks soaked with tears. "i’m so selfish that i don't want to let you go, that i keep dragging you down with me even though i know it's destroying you too... i know it's wrong, i know it's so damn selfish, but i can't let go..."

wooyoung was crying hard, openly and unapologetically. he was a mess of emotion, of hurt and fear and sorrow and pain. he didn't like the way he was hurting you, but he didn't know how to stop. he was stuck in this cycle of self-destruction, and he couldn't see a way out.

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[vigilskeep]

hi! ive seen you talk about your surana a bunch but i dont know if ive seen her full story. what were some of the pivotal decisions she made? i love hearing you talk about your ocs, theyre always so in depth and thought out!

oh thank you!! :) my surana is my Eldest Daughter from my very first full playthrough of a dragon age game, so i think a lot of people newer to the blog (like... from less than a year and a half ago probably lmao) have less of the context in complete form. so i will attempt to summarise!! it may be... long...

minerva surana is a manipulative, driven elven circle mage, heart-breakingly willing to sacrifice whatever she believes is necessary for her Grand Goals, who is often so busy playing 5d chess she forgets she’s a twenty-one year old with no experience of the world outside the tower

okay it did turn out fucking long the rest is under the cut its like 9 bulky paragraphs enjoy

her family were tevinter liberati, elven slaves who had devoted themselves to buying their way out and very recently succeeded. her parents were desperate to see her and her elder sibling grow up knowing only freedom, and sent their children south with another part of the family while they remained to pay off the last of their debts. the journey was long and difficult, and they had little left when they ended up in the denerim alienage. in a twist of bitter irony, magic that might have made minerva someone of value in the imperium saw her freedom once more revoked in the south. minerva remembers nothing of tevinter, and only a few fragments of what came next: of light through the vhenadahl’s branches glinting on a templar’s blade, of her sibling fighting them and being knocked to the ground, terribly still, with blood in their hair, and of her grandmother saying what she might have said many times on that long journey south: we can survive anything, as long as we never look back. ironically, minerva often took that to heart by denying all memory prior to the circle.

young apprentice minerva was a sullen child, with few friends; karl thekla took an elder brother’s interest, and jowan clung to her talent. she only really flourished when, after her terror of her natural gift for spirit magic saw her self-hatred turn dangerous in her early teens, first enchanter irving took an interest. he was a father figure to her, and he showed her how to channel her power into control, and her distress into ambition. newfound devotion to elemental magic saw her hailed as a prodigy, and surely a future first enchanter with irving’s tutelage. (only irving considered her too headstrong for the role. he never told her, fostering the drive he had cultivated, both fearful for the state she might return to if he didn’t, and curious as to what else she might become.) she grew up arrogant and beautiful and deeply loyal to the circle, learning that it was only the weak and the defiant who would fail to thrive there, and convinced she was neither. many of her peers wanted to be her, and few of them wanted to spend much time in her company. except jowan, still the little brother hiding in her shadow, and halliserre amell, a rebellious rival with a winning smile, who made up for their lack of her discipline and raw power with sheer brilliance, and whose heated arguments eventually developed into... ah, something else heated.

not long before the start of the game, amell told her they were going to accept tranquillity. it didn’t matter how clever they were; with their weak magic, they would die in the harrowing. they’d only been so defiant of the circle before because, having accepted their fate, the risks were nothing to them. furious and unable to admit it was because she was in love, the last thing minerva ever said to them when they were whole was that they were a coward not to try. when jowan told her he feared he too would be made tranquil, minerva was still recovering from the loss, not to mention flushed with even more arrogance than normal from her own successful harrowing. she had been the perfect circle mage all her life, twice as good as everyone else to make up for every rumour about where she was from. surely she had earned one defiance. surely she could save this one thing, her oldest friend. and she is a loyal person, in her way, emotion powering her fierce drive, incapable of abandoning what she has set her heart on. irving, from whom she had learned everything, was ahead of her every step of the way. he arranged for her to be taken in by the grey wardens. she had proved herself as headstrong and unsuitable as he had feared—and she was shocked and bitterly betrayed to finally see that—but he also believed this might bring her to where she would truly belong.

as a grey warden, minerva’s highest concern is perception. when the stakes of the game are revealed, she has enough hubris to see it as a chance to not just save but change the world. defeating the archdemon isn’t enough. she needs to be seen defeating the archdemon, at the forefront, as an elven mage; she has enough idealism to believe it will really matter for her and people like her, and enough shrewd cynicism to consider what she may have to sacrifice to achieve it. mostly she approaches problems with the skill for diplomacy and management that irving taught her, with that good good Master Coercion skill. she gets many of the “better” and certainly more peaceful quest outcomes, not always motivated by altruism, but determined to be remembered well when she leaves each faction behind. her one great sacrifice of this goal to be seen as the perfect mage is when she takes up blood magic, determined after she sees its power that she alone can handle it, to get the job done and keep what’s hers alive fight after fight. but that only makes her more dedicated to her actions elsewhere

the real test and most pivotal moment of her arc is at the landsmeet. she has arranged anora’s marriage to an alistair hardened for the role (once more following irving’s example, learning to teach ambition as he had taught hers. is there love in that, or just selfishness? she doesn’t know). all that matters is that the joint rule neatly fulfils her desire for compromise to please all parties. but then she struggles between two aspects of her goal: she wants to be seen, personally, as the victor; she does not want every noble in ferelden to see her kill the hero of river dane with magic. she knows how that scene will be remembered, in the end. when riordan suggests recruiting him instead, it seems the perfect solution to everything, the salvation of the day. and then she realises she’s broken alistair’s heart, just when he’s breaking hers. she is incapable of backing down in front of them all (it’s only to alistair, her alistair, but she can’t do it—not to a human, and not to someone part of her will always see as a templar—not when everything she wants was so close.) he abandons her for the throne she taught him to want. she goes on with loghain in the party, and eventually—unable to let loghain snatch the final sacrifice from her grasp, and realising she does want to win and live, after it all—convinces him to do the dark ritual.

in terms of her most important relationships with companions: minerva traditionally romances zevran, who is in many ways uniquely her match having learned the same bitter lessons with the crows that she learned from the circle, and who is so dear to her and capable of lightening her heart when no-one else can. i’ve also experimented with the idea of her romancing alistair, to really dramatise the Landsmeet Divorce and capitalise on future political shenanigans where she could one day be his mistress, but more traditionally they are simply an extremely closely trauma-bonded pair of people who are incapable, at least that year, of really understanding each other deep down. it falls into a pattern where she loves someone with all that fierce drive, enough to die for them, but she will always prioritise what she thinks they need over what they are saying and what they want, often with misjudgements and terrible consequences for them both. it was true with amell, it’s true for many others

she has something very intense and homoerotic going on with morrigan, she has a strained relationship with leliana and wynne, and she has respect and comradeship and a fair bit of fundamental disagreement with sten and loghain. the awakening squad are the people she will consider family for life, most notably nathaniel who she started out not liking at all and is now her work wife, her right hand, can finish her sentences, etc.; anders, who remembers her as karl’s annoying teacher’s pet telltale little sister and is still sometimes baffled by who she’s become; velanna, who makes minerva her most genuine self by having regular screaming matches with her as a sign of affection; and oghren who tried to quit drinking at the same time she tried to quit blood magic, leading to many conversations that deeply baffled everyone around them.

the “current” minerva surana is a sharp-tongued leader who was born for the role of warden-commander, who loves her work and that it matters, who has a truer confidence that is less blindly arrogant and more willing to admit to mistakes, who has worked her breathless way up to h*lding h*ands in public with someone she loves, who has finally learned the hard lesson that the world needs more than an heroic example who followed all the rules to truly be bettered... and who, as rebellion brews, has never been one to sit back and watch while others changed the world

[ganondoodle]

Hello 👋

Swallowing my nerves at last to send you an ask! I was just wondering, what inspires your designs? Are their inspirations in stuff like movies or games? Or just things you come up with yourself?

i .. honestly its kinda hard to tell, sometimes i just randomly think of something, like some detail, or color combination and try to incorporate that into a design somehow; it can come from anywhere, like the color scheme of a pithaya/dragonfruit is something i have been wanting to make a design with for ages but havent come up with anything good in all those years ;O;

im a very easily fascinated by color, espeically in nature, like sometimes i just stop and stare at something like i froze in time bc i just woooooooooooooah color! i probably look like a weirdo doing that though

its really hard to pinpoint anything specifically, the most is probably .. other artists? i guess? which always makes me nervous bc my memory is shit in most areas of life and i worry myself to pieces whether i unintentionally "stole" an idea and just dont remember and think it was my own, it goes further that sometimes i see something that makes me want to draw a similar concept but dont bc i dont want to 'steal' even if that couldnt be further from my intention (have been accused of that before ..)

that said for my ocs specifically .. most are rather old and have just kinda evolved out of their awkward first iterations (shargons first iteration was a hauro-howl- copy that was really just some human covered in feathers .. another oc was once a hellboy copy but in green- havent drawn nor redeisgn them in ages lol), the biggest inspirations for them is a mix of animals, bonus if you dont see them often- im a big shark, whale and sea creatures in general nerd so i tend to take from them as a priority but always trying to be less directly animal and mostly just .. features that work together

Eadrya is one of the newer OCs- i started to write but then looked at my folders and oh they are from 2017 .., i even made a design timeline for them how much they, and my art, have changed back in 2020, so thats also way outdated now lol (they apparently started as a whale .. thing? its like a pokemon evolution lol)

this is them now (i like this sketch still, though shargons design is now also outdated lmao)

this ones from early 2023 so also outdated now but you get the point

for demons i try to be a bit more wild on shapes and colors while still adhering to the rules of how they work (humanoid form, demon form, animalistic, one element each and more or less made to fit that, 4 arms is very common, look to be bost scary and wild but also something that would make you stop in tracks and stare in awe and fear if you crossed paths)

often times designs just kinda .. happen, i have maybe the idea ok i wanna make something with a white and red pattern also moose or those big horned cows are cool and kinda scary so maybe sth akin to that (though this one is technically a redesign too- its also pretty much entirely different)

for non demons but still non human i go for a much more restrained design, mainly inspired directly by an animal and giving the color scheme a good spin, plus adding unconventional body shapes, like ki'ita is also a good example, her old idea was just orca anthro pirate and just by making the white green instead in her most recent redesign already adds that little spin to it

that can have its pitfalls though, as i often fall into the big arm small head small legs scheme over and over xD

alot of it is trial and error, deciding on the colors can take me hours bc im always searching for my little rule of having one contrast color that shows up in very few places to draw attention to it (like with Eadrya its those bright yellow eyes and thingy at their tail)

and that is all about myy own ocs, when its fandom stuff it works kinda similar though, either in the connections i wanna draw or just thinking it further- like how deities in destiny work also just kinda .. happened like an ever derailing train

like for demise i was at first really just im gonna give him horns bc horns are cool and he got those on the starting mural in the game- so how his hair work? well maybe it isnt hair actually and just unbound energy, im making him a deity too and fit hylias design to his so, yeah, then so how does it work, ok he gotta have a skeleton still, but what if his entire actual body is made up of pure magical energy with its core in the ribcage? with the core in the ribcage >:3c and the scales you see are just like cooled down lava as an armor bc his thing is fire and earth !! the normal blood? is a thin layer of skin imiated from mortals to keep the scales together and flexible so if he ACTUALLY gets hurt hed bleed magic that looks more like lava and any normal blood you see is just the armor- so why does he have a skeleton still instead of being just energy? maybe its gotta be bound to something OH and what if all of the deities started as mortals like a mirror to the trio later on and the gods cannot have direct influence to the worlds so they needed a right hand that is neither god nor mortal but both by killing a mortal by whatever their element will be (demise burned, hylia drowned etc) and their skeleton and spirit is kept but put into a body of magic- OH what if their spirit core is like almost piloting their bodies like a mech in a way bc if youd look close youd see that every strand of magic is actual a hand of their spirit so it makes it more weird and other bc hed be able to reach out with thousands of burning claws of all shapes and sizes like the beheaded forest god at the end of mononoke- SO if hed lose and arm or something all those strands would untangle and rearrange his bones back together-OH MY GOD the whole armor idea works so well for ghirahims dark armor so what if demise had two swords once and lost one and since has forged an armor similar to his own for ghirahim out fo fear of losing him t---

and that all is a process that happens over several weeks and months not rarely while i am drawing something mindlessly and suddendly *have a thought* and omg that makes so much sense-

so "what" inspires my designs? an ever derailing train of thought about making cool thick monsters that arent the evil thing to get rid of for once? cool color schemes? idk it just kinda happens??

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

Cruel Summer Chapter 1 (Chris Evans x Actress/Singer!Reader)

(Okay, So Ive been away for a hot minute. And I've been through quite a bit. But I got inspired to write this and I hope yall love it!! Couple of things. 1.) Taylor Swift doesnt exist in this series, the reader is like taylor swift! 2) dont come for me, I've been chewing on this idea for a few months now lol. 3.) Im almost done with chapter 1 of My Alpha, I know I've gotten some messages about that!! Also, half way through chapter 2 of Midnight rain ;) Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts on this!! love you guys!!!)

Thoughts? Suggestions? General opinion wanted here!!!!!

You’d be delusional to think that he wanted anything more than hookups with you. Being a movie star was hard enough to make a “normal” life ...falling in love with your co-star though...that made everything even worse. That’s what led you to becoming a world famous pop star, releasing smash hit after smash hit. Your smile; when up on that stage, tens of thousands of fans screaming your songs as you sang them, standing ovations, tears of happiness, excitement, thrill, it all made that heartache ease just a little bit. But not all the way. 

“Tonight is a HUGE night, I can’t believe you’re going to announce another album. I’m in awe, really I am.” Your mom said, grabbing your shoulders and looking at you in the mirror of the room you were currently using backstage. “Mom, thanks so much for traveling with me during this tour. It means so much to me.” you smiled softly at her, “especially after everything I’ve been through recently. Wanna know the surprise songs tonight? Or just be surprised like everyone else?” you asked with a soft laugh. 

Your mom and dad were your biggest and best fans you could have ever asked for. Even during the worst time of your life, you’d had your parents support when changing careers. “Awe, let me be surprised like everyone else dear. Your cue is up….come on,” she gave you a big hug and kissed your cheek. “You’re going to be amazing, just like every other night” she beamed before walking out of your dressing room. 

You stared in the mirror, touching up your red lipstick before turning around and walking out. Your bejeweled bodysuit in the colors of your most favorite album you’d put out, pinks and blues. You smiled at the stage crew and everyone working behind the scenes as you walked with your assistant. “Another great sold out crowd out there, the VIP tent is dead center, lots of celebrities are here tonight too.” She smiled before you walked away standing on your mark. 

Listening to the entrance music you’d had custom made, caused the memories to flood your mind. 

You looked over at him grinning as you both reached for a piece of popcorn. “Soooo I thought you wanted to do something else when you asked me to come to your hotel room 10:30 at night.” you smirked as he laughed, throwing his head back. “While yes, I’d love to do that too….I figured it would be nice to watch a movie or two, enjoy a snack and relax together too. I ordered some wine and chocolate covered strawberries too.” he said leaning closer to you, as you bit your lip leaning into him, letting his lips brush yours. The next thing you knew, he had you pinned to the bed, popcorn littering the floor as he kissed down your neck, slowly pushing your shirt off and attacking your chest. 

“Ready? Have fun!!” Your assistant shouted over the music and screaming fans as the platform started to bring you up from under the stage. You plastered a grin on your lips and got in your stance with your mic. 

The moment your back up dancers pulled back the large fabric fans to reveal you, you began to sing one of your songs. The roar of screams, cheers and cries erupted throughout the entire stadium as you came into sight for everyone. The platform continued to rise as you sang, smiling at everyone. 

“It's you and me, that's my whole world

They whisper in the hallway, "She's a bad, bad girl"

Oh, I just thought you should know (you should know)

It's you and me, there's nothing like this (like this)

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince (okay)

We're so sad, we paint the town blue (paint it blue)

Voted most likely to run away with you.” 

The music ended as everyone cheered even louder and you laughed softly, the platform lowering back to the mainstage level; you grinned as the next song began instantly. You loved performing for a crowd, they never made you feel like you weren’t worth the love and attention. You strut toward the front of the stage, beginning to sing the bridge, along with the crowd, when a sight almost threw you off your performance. He stood there in the VIP tent with a cold beer in one hand, his other arm around the shoulders of a petite brunette. 

“I'm drunk in the back of the car

And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh)

Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true

I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh)

And I screamed for whatever it's worth

"I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

He looks up grinning like a devil” 

You belt out the bridge, the crowd screaming louder toward the end. You tried to not to look at the VIP tent, the urge to see him again, standing there happy with some other girl, you danced around, happily grinning at the crowd, encouraging them to sing along. You finally took a break, smiling wide as everyone clapped and cheered. “Hi!” you said cheerfully. “My name is Y/N and welcome to The Eras Tour,” you grinned as the stadium erupted again. 

“I just want to say thank you to everyone who is here tonight and I hope that I don’t disappoint. I usually perform only two surprise songs a night, however, I’m feeling…fun tonight, so I want to add another song to the list for you all. It’s one that I don't usually perform live. But, I hope you enjoy it.” you smiled as the platform rose and you looked around, the soft jazz music starting as loud cheers erupted. You couldn't stop the smile that landed on your face as you began to sing. 

“We were crazy to think

Crazy to think that this could work

Remember how I said I'd die for you?

We were stupid to jump

In the ocean separating us

Remember how I'd fly to you?

And I can't talk to you when you're like this

Staring out the window like I'm not your favorite town

I'm New York City

I still do it for you, babe

They all warned us about times like this

They say the road gets hard and you get lost when you're led by blind faith

Blind faith” 

You smiled looking around, your eyes landed on him again, he had a look in his eyes, just like how he used to look at you, hunger and desperation for your touch. You put your lips back up to the microphone and made eye contact with him again. 

“But we might just get away with it

Religion's in your lips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship

We might just get away with it

The altar is my hips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship this love

We'd still worship this love

We'd still worship this love

I know heaven's a thing

I go there when you touch me

Honey hell is when I fight with you” 

You didn’t mean to stare for so long, but the way he looked at you, watching your body move. You wanted to jump off stage and run into his arms again, kissing him, telling him how in love with him you still were, even after the three years that had passed. You felt a tightness in your chest when the girl turned and kissed his neck, and began to dance with him. 

You finished the song not soon after and took a small bow as everyone screamed out. You stood still smiling as the platform began to lower, before diving off to get changed. “I need a minute,” you said as your assistant came up to you. She looked slightly confused as they began to help you into your next outfit. How were you going to continue this concert with him staring at you? You didn’t think you could do it honestly. 

“I can’t believe you changed the set list, We’re going to have to cut one of the surprise songs.” You looked at her. “No we can’t but we are changing them tonight.” you said as they did up the back of your dress. “What?! Why!” she gasped. “Chris is here,” you said looking at her as her face fell. “With some girl.” she sighed putting a hand on her head “Jesus fucking Christ……okay. Tell me what you need.” you looked at her again as tears filled your eyes. “I need a fucking minute.” you grabbed the new mic rushing off.

[forgeofthenine]

I got bit by another idea bug and I blame you for reblogging the “Single Dad Dammon” post. I see that and raise you “Tav and Dammon were together before the fall and got separated because Tav was away when the city fell”. (The Tav in the scenario that bit me is not a tiefling, mainly because mine isn’t but this narrative does also work with a tief Tav)

And then when they’re freed from the hells, he has no idea how to find you and you have no idea how to find him. But gods you try. You follow every scrap of a rumor once you’re done grieving and manage to pull yourself together when you can accept that yes, for now (only for now, it can only be for now, please gods don’t let this be life from now on) your husband and child are gone. You chase every thread of hope until there’s nothing left to give and then you move onto the next. The old adventuring instincts you buried when you put away your weapons and armor come screaming back to life from where they went dormant the second you found yourself caught by a pair of eyes like the sunrise over the horizon.

And then you get the word that the city is back and you immediately turn and start running home. But before you can make it there you here word about the city exiling all the tieflings and you can only force yourself to march on, listening for any word of where they may be headed while a white hot rage burns in your chest at the thought of your family going through yet more hardship.

You finally learn that the exiles are heading to Baulder’s Gate and you make your way there, beating the crowds and finding a place to live in the city. (You’ve amassed a small fortune in your recent travels, but it was already a struggle to force yourself just to survive and frivolities held no joy. The only exception was if some little bauble or trinket caught your eye that you thought either of them would enjoy.)

You spend days checking with those managing the influx of refugees, checking multiple times a day for if their names have come though with no results. Logically, in the part of your mind that has to know these things, not everyone who disappeared would have survived Avernus. Ever more have probably fallen on the journey to a new home. But you can’t think about that. They will make it, you will hold them again. You will. (You dont know what you’ll do if you can’t)

One day you overhear some of the newer arrivals talking about the troubles on the road with the goblins and the Absolute’s cult and this is a problem you can help with. You had no way to get to the hells and save your family, never mind rescue your entire city (because as much as you want to, as much as you would want to take your family and run, you would have to try) but goblins and cultists? These are mortal issues that can be solved by mortal means. So you once again put away your sensible clothes, you lock up your new home and task a neighbor with watching it while you’re away and head off, newly armed.

Your maybe a day or two from the city when you get snatched by the Nautiloid and now you have a whole new host of problems to deal with and as much as you wish you could abandon everything and keep searching, you’re no good to anyone dead or a mindflayer. And so you gather your new companions and march on.

Back at the Grove, Dammon is as settled as they can be when your hosts are already planning to chase them from the only safe refuge they’ve had in recent memory. The Archdruid who championed their stay is gone and Zevlor isn’t making any headway with Kagha. Now the goblins are literally at their door again and they’re just waiting until the druids push them into their arms when a ruckus at the gate swells and then suddenly ends. The sounds of battle outside fade to nothing and the gate is opened.

Those that left with Halsin rush in first, followed at a more sedate pace by your party. You have your talk with Zevlor and learn that this is another group of refugees from Elturel. It takes a moment for your heart to catch up with your mind after the conversation ends and suddenly you’re moving, scanning every face you pace, looking for those eyes. The sounds of the world fade away as your ears are full of nothing but a roaring. You pass the training area, your companions following you worriedly. One shouts your name as you head into the common area the tieflings are sharing and Dammon head snaps up at the sound. Your eyes track the movement as a result of years of habit and there he is.

Your reunion is slow, you’ve never been one for big showy emotions but that does nothing to stop the tears from beginning to pour from your eyes as you abruptly start forward towards him.

Dammon is frozen as you walk towards him. He slowly puts down his tools and takes off his apron, convinced that every move he makes will wipe away the mirage he’s sure you are. And yet you’re still there, still walking towards him. He can see the tears and he longs to wipe them away. Then you’re in front of him and you don’t know which one of you reaches for the other first but you hold each other so tight you know there’ll be bruises. It’s only when your child runs up to you and cries out for you that you separate for a moment and come back together again, the three of you bundled tightly with Dammon holding you both so securely that you wondered how you hadn’t fallen apart without him.

I can honestly see it going either way after that, either Dammon joins your camp (because like hell is he letting you run off without them so soon. And you may as well be together anyway, the last time he and your child stayed behind for safety the hells opened up and swallowed their city.)

Or you separate with plans to meet up in Baulder’s Gate once you’re safe again and then reuniting at the Last Light instead. He confess how guilty he feels for running with your child, how others might have been saved if he stayed but he couldn’t take that risk. You hold him while he shakes with his guilt and kiss his brow, his cheeks, his lips, whatever you can while you thank you for saving your child and himself. 🪻

I'm honestly so obsessed with this you won't even believe-

The idea of a short trip separating you from loved ones for weeks, not even knowing if they're alive or if you might see them again. That sweet relief of reuniting (and the palpable confusion of the rest of your group), the needing to figure out 'whats next?'

I'd honestly love a way for Tavs to have a previous connection to existing NPCs (other than durge and Orin/Gortash), even if just from a roleplaying perspective. I adore this though, I always love seeing what you send in flower anon <3

[fanofthelamb]

Hey just wanted to say about the most recent comic, I hope you dont feel bad or shame about it!! Its very lovely and I will personally fight anyone who says otherwise.

hehe ty,,,,,, this ask has been on my mind for a while tbh. it makes me feel so nice <3 so here's some sketches, new and old!!!!!!!!! ill throw it all under a cut so ppl dont drown in all the pics. enjoy anon!!!!!!! (sketch dump the squeakquel!!!!!!!!!!!!)

i made these like 3 weeks ago but i only really posted a cropped version w/ just the giant kallamr squid , featuring @aychama and @paintpaintpaintman lambs :D

i've been sitting on them bc i wasnt entirely sure about how everyone felt about each other, and while i still am not I feel like everyone likes each other at least!!!

i also wanted to draw people's lambs reliving a bunch of my childhood memories, but i felt the idea wouldn't be accepted because i don't know how many people would related to em. these sketches are new since all i had was a jpeg of thumbnails, but they are @paintpaintpaintman , @spiderin-space , and my lambs!! the first pic is just them enjoying some honeysuckles, trying to buy some candy at the weekend market, and visiting kids in better looking neighborhoods than they lived in AHHSASHHSA i dont think i care to complete this but it is really fun drawing the lambs being lambs.

a sketch of heket nd leshy i appearantly NEVER posted because i wasnt happy with how leshy turned out. a shame, really.

i also wanted to draw all the cultists in different outfits, but it turns out i really was not interested in finishing it at the time. i do think valefar and narinder turned out kinda cute tho !!!!!!!

some motherfuckers WAY too happy to see a corpse (i still think its hilarious when my whole cult gathers around a corpse and makes googoo eyes at it what is their problem LMAOOOOO)

i ended up changing how i draw the 3 wives so the wifestack is no longer relevant (also there's 2 more that werent existing when this was drawn) but i still look at it sometimes. i think we should stack every wife on top of each other.

and the last one is part of me figuring out how i wanted the lamb. ive always known i wanted them JACKED i just cant decide how ripped i want this lil bastard. i think the current lamb is a good fit for me personally.

anyway that's doodlestack jr,,,,,,,,,,,,, SORRY FOR THE PINGS TO EVERYONE I PINGED I LOVE U GUYS LMFAO <33333333333 and everyone else CHECK OUT EVERYONE I PINGED THEY ALL MAKE ABSOLUTELY AMAZING CONTENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[thewertsearch]

Yep. That's a 'fuck this shit' face if I ever saw one.

CC: T)(ere is not)(ing to worry about at all. GG: bluhhh what are you talking about…. GG: my head hurts GG: just stop it, stop trolling me GG: i hate you all!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Understandable. Jade's most recent memories are a garbled collection of monster nightmares, immediately preceded by her own death. She just woke up, but what she needs more than anything else is a break.

GG: my dream was horrible!!! GG: i dont know what that was, i have never dreamed anything like it CC: Yes, I imagine not! You )(ave spent your w)(ole life dreaming about prospit, no? GG: oh god…. GG: prospit :( GG: is it really gone? CC: Yes, Jade. It is time to face t)(e facts! CC: Our moons are gone too. If we wis)( to sleep now, our dreams must take place in t)(e bubbles glubbed by t)(e gods w)(o live in t)(e Furt)(est Ring.

This is the real perk to being a Derse Dreamer. Your affiliation with the Furthest Ring makes you well-equipped to navigate the shadowy, garbled world of the Horrorterrors - unlike your Prospitian siblings, who are too accustomed to Skaia's gentle light.

It makes a kind of sense, I think, that the darker Dreamers would only reveal their true potential in death. Their 'ghosts' can rendezvous outside the session, which could grant them all sorts of advantages.

CC: In fact, t)(ey are quite )(elpful if you know )(ow to talk to t)(em! CC: Don't you remember our dream? I was trying to s)(ow you t)(at t)(ere is not)(ing to fear.

Feferi, in particular, has an eldritch affinity which is completely off the charts. The Horrorterrors are effectively her family, and with her serving as a guide, the Furthest Ring is a little bit safer for everyone else.

Perhaps, with Feferi's help, it could be safe enough to serve as a hideout. Both sessions seem to be living on borrowed time, so establishing a 'safe house' external to any Incipisphere seems like an excellent idea. The Horrorterrors claim to be here to help, so maybe it's time for them to prove it.

...wow. I never expected Feferi to be a potential lynchpin of the Grand Intersession Plan, but here we are.

GG: sorry but GG: could you please GG: not use all those stupid parentheses?????? [...] CC: GLUUUUB oh fine. CC: I will suspend my neato quirk just for you. [...] GG: what about the -E thing, can you stop that too? it is also annoying and stupid [...] CC: Okay, you win. I have officially humbled myself before you. Entirely glubbing peasant-IFICATED for your pleasure.

If only Gamzee would do the same...

GG: ohhhhhhh!!!!! GG: i do remember you! GG: i remember you were talking to me about my lusus, and i had no idea what you were talking about GG: also it was shortly before your friend sent me a weird message GG: about how my robot was going to explode, and i should talk to him when it happens

At first, I thought we'd missed a conversation in the hell-bubble - but no, this unseen conversation happened immediately before she talked to Future Karkat.

This does appear to be the timeframe that he needs to talk to her in - but I don't see what this Jade could do to help him. As she so aptly put it, she currently understands jack shit.

Perhaps there's something she needs to do immediately before Entering. Does Karkat have an idea for what she should prototype?

CC: Oh? Who was that? GG: it was the most awful and angry one GG: i am so sick of him, i really dont want to talk to that pathetic jerk ever CC: Ah, Karkat. Of course.

lmao

[mako-neexu]

Id chapter is insane. im so stressed even after more than 2 months of its release. because the Class who won for the entirety of Ordeal Call (dare i say it: the entirety of FGO?) so far are the Avengers. (so far... at least for me..lets hope ruler and foreiner OCs are good...also idk read my og tags for this)

its probably just me overthinking... i dont know if sakurai thought this far but its just so good. because... like. the current arc's focus is on the Classes and the recent main story focused on Avengers.

Avengers. heroic spirits. Extra Class. Those who speak of hate yet are born from love and those who speak love yet are born from hate. The basis of each and all of the heroic spirits in the Throne are simply because they are all records. They are spirits and shadows of those who have lived long ago and those are currently living somewhere or those who have still yet to live and are from the future. Either way, anyone summoned from the Throne is what makes them a Servant. A copy of the real thing. Beings made of ether, ghosts who are a set of records and memories given form.

Avengers are the very embodiment of holding onto the past. Oblivion Correction, being able to remember even beyond time loops or universes could be considered more of a curse than a blessing for these flames whose lives burn endlessly from hate and anger and sorrow from towards those who have wronged them. Flames who would burn endlessly and would stop at nothing even should their retribution be at the cost proper human history's ashes.

Records. Human and beast shaped memories given form. They are beings of stagnacy and cannot grow well past beyond their current state. As only those who are currently living have the privilege of being the only ones to grow. Do you understand me? Do you understand what I'm getting at?

Avengers are more records and fragments of themselves - Alters, Innocent Monsters, collective will of hatred from many people condensed into one - beyond any Class of the Throne. As such they cannot grow. They will never grow for they will remain as flames and inhuman creatures that will ultimately consume and burn all that is within their sights.

And yet, the very Avenger considered to be the greatest, to be the representative and leader of the group was able to transcend the impossible.

Only the living have that right to escape their impending deaths, their doom, their fate. Servants, nothing more than familiars, don't have that right anymore. Not anymore as they don't truly exist in the present.

And yet. And yet.

The Count of Monte Cristo claws an eye out, splits his skull open, rips an entire arm out, bleeds himself dry to change himself. Change himself down to his very core and almost every aspect of him, all for the sake of one person alone.

He was able to take a step forward. An extreme impossibility in and of itself to these burning spirits who are broken records incarnate.

Just one step. Look away from the past without discarding it, still carrying it close, still remaining who he is and yet his sights are on the night sky above, to that star twinkling so gently, so brightly ahead of him that there is no helping that feeling of breathlessness he feels.

Far different from choking on smoke, far different from drowning beneath the icy waves of a prison tower by the sea.

To that person who is his fate, who is his star, his light, and fire in this second life, they extend a hand out to him with a dazzling smile.

Oh.

The Count of Monte Cristo, far beyond salvation and absolution, must think, This in itself is poison. This in itself is ambrosia given form.

With a hand, a resolute gaze telling him he isn't alone, Edmond Dantes, King of the Cavern, the Count of Monte Cristo was able to move forward, change himself and turn into a flame that would pave the way for that star which seeks its own wishes to be fulfilled. To that partner, co-conspirator, accomplice who always walked forward and never wavered in wanting to fight by his side, the Avengers won here and now.

Because to be loved is to be changed.

And being able to change, find yourself capable of it, there is growth. And in growth, for these heroic spirits, ghosts, those who have long passed...

What is that, if not, victory to all of the Avengers themselves?