#DID I TAG EVERYTHING? HOPEFULLY

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[sallymew4]

Watching you get got by the teru reigen virus in real time is so funny dude. And you're right

EXCUSE TO DRAW REIGEN AND TERU SPOTTED

dude im so sick in the head about them its not even funny (it is). the teru reigen virus is NO JOKE GUYS. it can get you any time anywhere and you wont even know until it's TOO LATE. but yes like you said i am incredibly correct

also since i have yall here

you have to see my vision. this song is so them. in a non-romantic way of course

[stopper-my-heart]

Nothing like Heartstopper S2E8 removing some of Taylor Swift's "seven" lyrics just so that the singing can specifically come back in at "Or hide in the closet" while Isaac is processing difficult emotions related to the book he's reading (i.e., Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen).

Did I mention "Or hide in the closet" hits just as the camera focus finishes shifting away from Isaac?

This is fine

[bipbopdepmop]

short boatem summer fic

based on this post -> (link) by @applestruda

Picture this: 

It is the hottest day of the year. The sun beats down relentlessly upon any poor sap that gets caught out in it. The heat can only be described as ‘being hit in the face with a sack full of bricks that have somehow been set on fire.'

We see the Boatem crew going about various activities as the very same sun spills into an overly warm room onto well-worn floorboards. The room is small and neat. There is a crooked green carpet on the floor and pictures on the wall of five laughing people. It is a room that has seen lots of love. 

A fan whirs steadily in the background. Impulse turns the page of his book, letting out a long sigh. Mumbo waters his plants, mumbling to himself and occasionally making a noise that is either pleased or disgruntled as he inspects his plants. So far, he has said “Ah!” in a pleased way fourteen times and “oh!” in a displeased way twelve times. Scar began counting an indeterminate amount of time ago out of sheer boredom. He’s been sitting in front of the fan for what feels like forever. It’s only been five minutes. Jellie meows. Impulse turns another page. Time drips by like honey. Every heat-filled second seems to take an hour to pass. 

Footsteps. Enter Grian, bright wings flashing at the edge of Scar’s vision. He would look over, call out a greeting but that would mean exposing his face to the heat. Grian is not worth braving the heat, he decides.

“I am never going to move again,” Grian complains. “I am just going to lay here and melt.”

“That seems like a good plan,” Impulse agrees with a small chuckle from the only shady corner in the room. A foot prods Scar’s side. 

Poke. “Scar, move over.” Another, more insistent poke. 

He turns his head, just a little. The right side of his face is now uncomfortably warm, exposed to the Void-forsaken heat. Grian really does look terrible, hair plastered to his forehead, face red and sunburnt and ear-feathers limp. 

“I was here first!” Scar says, a bit indignant. First dibs, right? “Go get your own fan. There’s one somewhere around here.” He ducks a little, but not enough to avoid the wing that whacks him in the head.

“Ow!” he says halfheartedly, turning his head to face Impulse. Ah, sweet, sweet relief for the right side of his face, not so much for his left. “Impulse, Grian hit me!” 

“Grian did nothing of the sort,” Grian interjects, tone bright and innocent-sounding. Another wing whacks Scar again. “Scar’s the one hogging the fan.”

With a long suffering sigh, Impulse looks up from his book. The glare that Scar receives is just short of withering. Got it. Don’t interrupt Impulse. Scar yelps as he is rudely pushed over onto the floor and into the sun. The floor burns to the touch. His poor, poor, super muscle-y arms. Betrayal! Blood! Trauma! Death! He will never forgive Grian for this. He will pay. 

A thump. Grian’s sigh of sheer relief is almost pathetic. Sure enough, Grian’s face is now inches from the fan, eyes closed in pure joy. Scar groans dramatically. 

“Grian, how could you? My very own brother-in-arms!” 

Grian scoffs. “Like you wouldn’t do the same.”

“Me?” Scar gasps. “I would never.”

“Oh you absolutely would,” Mumbo says with a snort. 

“Fine, fine! I see how it is around here. No love for good ol’ Scar! C’mon Jellie, we can go join the Big Eyes Crew. I bet they have a fan. I bet their fan is bigger than ours. After all, Bdubs’ smile is the biggest there is. He’s probably got the biggest fan too.” Impulse snorts and turns the page. Grian’s wings rustle. Mumbo makes his fifteenth “Ah!” His plants must be doing well.

Scar sighs, pulling himself into an upright position and drapes himself over Grian’s shoulders. “See, this way we can share the fan!” 

“Scar,” Grian whines, dragging his name out exasperatedly. “You’re too warm! Go away.” 

“Come on Grian, you can say it,” he teases, smiling. “I’m too hot. I’m too hot for you.”

Scar grunts as Grian elbows him in the side, throwing him off his shoulders. Huffing, he leans against Grian’s back instead. If he can’t get the fan, a nice backrest will do. Even if that backrest has really, really pokey bony wings that dig into his back. Maybe he’ll take a nap and when he wakes up, it’ll all be over. He closes his eyes.

After what barely seems like ten minutes, he hears Pearl say “What’s all this? You guys look absolutely pathetic.” Cracking his eyes open a little and turning his head to face her, he sees her in all her moth-y glory, standing over them. She has a shopping bag in one hand. Slowly, she reaches in and pulls out-

A freezer pop.

Scar might cry. He’s never seen such a beautiful sight. He might pick Pearl up and twirl her around in joy if it weren’t so dang-blasted hot.

---

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

not to brag, but my therapist told me today that i did incredible during our emdr session, which means i get an A for the day in therapy, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve 🙂‍↕️😌

[majoris]

hi 🌚

[grapejuicegay]

Sometimes I just start thinking about this moment - paired with Maddie's "I just think that maybe you're not sure of your own feelings yet. And if there's something that you need to tell Eddie, you will. Just, in your own time" - and then don't stop thinking about it.

Maybe I'm just reading into it but the way this moment moves. Eddie steps forward, Tommy steps up to exactly where Eddie was, Buck turns to look where Eddie was, doesn't find what he was looking for but still finds something good. It's not just ep 4 and 5 where the focus on Eddie blows me away, it's also this.

[skcirthinq]

Soooooooo I may have gotten invested in tangledinink's (@tangledinink ) 'Im Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now?' And like_theletter started a fic based off of this series, and taking inspiration from alicat54c's 'Empathy is Learned' series.

Anyways, here's some scenes from Scotch Gambit, by like_theletter (@liketheletter-l ), using tangledinink's human designs of the Rise of the TMNT boys.

Featuring:

Mikey unleashing youngest sibling demonic energy. (sketch 1)

Raph's counter to that. (sketch 2)

Leo getting parental praise being enough to break through the chess hyper-fixation. (sketch 3)

Leo smugly trying to manipulate Donnie into playing chess. (sketches 4 & 5)

[cybercritterinyourcomputer]

writing this on a whim because my brain is torturing me about it for some reason and i figured what better place to go than tumblr [this is somewhat sarcasm]. i do not particularly know why i am writing/asking this but im chucking it out there to ease the thoughts so i can go to sleep

to any systems or whatever or really anyone reading who found this through the tags i put here, how did you know you were a system. or plural or how did you start questioning it how did you figure it out. bear with me its past 2 am my writing is atrocious . how did you know if you never knew before?

i dont think im plural, but something wormed its way into my brain today or yesterday and i dont know why or when and and its not the first time this has popped into my brain i think. the thought of what if what if what if but im me. its my me it there its me its my thoughts and there is no other people in my brain just me myself and i. its not quiet it never is but it is just me

i think a clearer question i want to ask is: how can you tell if something is just dpdr[because i fear i may have that, unfortunately it is very likely] or this? this as in osdd or did or whatever

it would appear simple but unfortunately for a lot of my life my sense of self has been so broken and so messy because. fuck all everything happening i guess but its just me, truly. i talk to myself, i draw different versions of myself together, i split myself into many parts to cope with things, to highlight the different parts of me, variants. the wolf, the puppy, the robot, the hermit, the hollow, the dragon, and whatever the Me is i dont know who or what i am when im so many things and nothing at the same time. i didnt completely think about this but also how heavily i relate to certain characters in media but this may just be a nonhuman thing. i see so much of myself in certain characters and so much of them in me sometimes to the point where i dont know where i start and they end. but again i think that is just a nonhuman thing or a coping thing. because its still just me here

where does the age regression and nonhumanity start and where does it end when i rely on my creations of myself to keep me afloat. i only talk to myself through thinking and drawing, i dont talk to anybody else in my head, its all me. and unfortunately theres a pattern where i learn of something and i think about it and i go, "oh, no, no no, that is absolutely not me, never would dream of it! even thinking that i could be that is a crime to all the ones that truly have that!" and then it ends up being too true. the depression, the adhd, the age regression, the therianthropy, the hard denial of abuse, the hard denial of possible autism. my friends speculate i have ptsd or cptsd. i dont want to go down that line of thinking with this, i *know* i dont have it, but the fear

its annoying because ive never really been here present in my body im never really here and the horrors dont end and theres always been something wrong with me but i know its other things. i wont share the details, but the situation ive been in the past 8? months has been horrible horrid no good on my brain i hate being awake. and it feels like someone else took the reins but im still feeling the hurt i still have the memories but they dont feel like mine. my memories have never felt like my own but theyre mine and i have to write everything down or i will forget. i go to work i listen to family shit on me i go to work i do something all day but its not me im still in my room playing a game in my pjs but that was almost a year ago but im still there but i went to work but it wasnt me

because my mind is empty, its just me. it really truly is just me. i think im just lonely. and hoping someone could take me away from everything im always going through or for someone to be there. in my head

there was never anything to make me think this before, a couple times i have but years ago, for no reason, im quite sure its just me. i had imaginary friends as a kid which is normal for kids. i still kind of do but its just me talking to me, im saying two things. i think i just have a lot of possible trauma[i dont believe im traumatized but my friends are quite firm that my entire life has been a shitshow since i was born] and a lot of coping mechanisms plus the fact that i have to pretend for my family and me being trans and me being nonhuman and me so its mostly just that

i dont really know what exactly im even asking. i think im just throwing out a bone and praying for someone to go "yeah dude thats normal youre fine, youre normal" and for my brain to stop ruminating and its annoying. or for someone to ease my curiosity and fear and dread. im throwing out a bone, im begging for someone to glance my way, im begging for someone to tell me its okay. not the begging to be okay but to say that my brain is okay and that my life is okay

[iguessitsjustme]

Hello everyone! So I’ve been working on something for a good ass minute, and while it is not done (alas that full-time employment), that doesn’t mean I can’t post it. Sooooooo

This year, I have met some really awesome people here through BL and honestly, y’all have made my year so wonderful so I wanted to do something for the BL community here. For the month of December, up until Christmas, I will be using polls to do a Choose Your Own BL Adventure (this is basically just a BL dating sim but we’ll all be playing it together don’t worry about it). There will be some common BL tropes thrown into the story as we progress. Each day, a new poll will go up based on the results of the last poll. I also want to state that it will not always be clear what/who each choice is for, but each choice does lead to a different story. There will not be a specific time for each poll because I can’t guarantee when I’ll be done with work, but I am going to do my best to make sure that the next poll with the next section of the story goes up between 5:00 PM - 6:00 PM CST.

Later today (don't ask me what time I don't know), I will be posting the set up for the first poll. I want to give everyone a day to read the set up before the first poll goes live, which is why I’m posting this today instead of tomorrow when it starts. I will be using the tag “#2023 choose your own bl adventure” for each post related to the game and god willing, I’ll be able to link that tag on my blog.

This is my gift to all of my friends who have made this year truly spectacular and I hope you all have fun with me while this goes on (and there might be a little Hanukkah surprise for y’all later as well). So look out later today for my post that will explain the beginning of the story and I'll try to link it here after it goes up.

Thank you all for a fantastic year and Happy Holidays!

Edit: I posted the beginning of the story.

[iknaenmal]

i joined artfight so im trying to finally make ref sheets for my ocs so ! heres the heir :] theyre my fav oc probably

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

I just wish I had been there for you sooner.

I'm sorry.

[stormbabylore]

"Despite everything, it's still you."

[circusballoon]

SO I've been sick all August but today my brain was like "You know what? It's time to learn how to make a drawing timelapse!"

This was way harder that it would probably be with more brain capacity, but I wanted to share my accomplishment :') Baby's very first timelapse and very first time doing video editing!!

Please admire my newfound power with me

Finished drawing:

[lunar-years]

I've been living in such a nice bubble of the internet (Ted Lasso fandom) where pretty much everyone at least likes the characters I love that I forgot what it's like out here as a Stranger Things Jonathan Byers fan ✌️ all i can say I'm glad we're not getting s5 until 2026 (probably) I'm no longer emotionally strong enough for this.

[izzy-b-hands]

I will be forever grateful i can be on this new med. it's one a lot of folks also need and can struggle to have access to! It's important i be on it, especially if i start doing any vid collabs

(some of which, really, all of which, i unfortunately actually need to cancel that were in the preplanning stages, bc the election results have me wanting to wait and see how the general atmosphere of the country is before i agree to meet up with anyone. I feel bad for cancelling, but also i just can't know for sure how safe things are/might be going forward and I'd rather avoid the potential of. ya know. various not great things that could happen at a meet up, tho i would certainly hope they wouldn't. i don't feel like actually addressing them rn, u guys know what i mean)

That said, if the truvada initial side effects could fuck off asap would be so lovely. three weeks at worst, then they should be gone/much better or so i am told. really hope that's true bc losing my mornings to being dizzy and nauseous is Not Working for me lmao. im on week two, and now understand why my new doc said to call if i needed any 'cheerleading' and support to get thru the side effects, bc apparently she's done that for several ppl to make sure they actually make it thru the three weeks and keep on it (lovely of her!!)