#I'm back babeyyyyyyyyyyyy

[camilieroart]

PASSED MY EXAM

FFFFFFFFFUCK YEAAAAAAAA I'M BACK BABEYYYYYYYYYYYY

[didsomeonesayventus]

What have you been up to? Ramble away about your current interests my friend 👉😎👉

uhhhhhhh well. in the years since consistent activity I have:

Started, Subscribed, and MSQ/Major sidequest Cleared FFXIV and it occupies my brain like a parasitic worm (but I love it) as goes most people who get into it it seems. For those wondering started with WHM and have run it through just about everything so I'm fairly confident I am at least Somewhat Competent in pretty much everything except Savage and Alexander raids (shudders in Eyes of the Creator if you know you know)

Not only that but have main 5 categories of battle class leveled- WHM for healer, PLD for tank, MNK for melee, DNC phys ranged, RDM caster

I should stop talking about FFXIV help

I think I've changed jobs??? still call center-based work boo been there two years and I Hate It Homie (but hey 16/hr without a degree is hard to beat)

my cringe ass ff.net is poised for deletion as I've got ebook back ups of everything I just can't commit yet (and might not have to since I hear. Gasping Dying rumors about ff.net being on last legs)

I've developed a hobby of making FEH wlw ships- Azura/Deirdre, Mathilda/Lilith, Nagi/Natasha, Felicia/Selena (sacred stones) to throw some out -and stubbornly want to write fic but can't seem to figure out how to finish it oops

also generally feel awkward posting on AO3 because I don't really agree with their "you can write fic of actual people" stance but also Where Else Post Fic but also jokes on me I can't finish fic anymore

speaking of I did contribute to a zine or two with the Invincible Zine group over on twitter a handful of Duo Unit scripts and a 5k one shot on the Horrors of Adrift Corrin

("Katie isn't that the "uwu" corrin alt that looks after baby azura what is possibly horrifying about that" you ask and to which I respond "eldritch horror of being a dream-based sentient clone made real babeyyyyyyyyyyyy" and I didn't even use all my concepts and ideas)

Genshin Impact made a character I finally was willing to eat the lore for Miss Shenhe I love you so much what a wlw icon I think I did reblog something of her earlier but yea love

Played through Persona 5 Royal was a good game but I have never seen a game Say So Much and Nothing At All at the same time while also contradicting itself (and somehow in 100+ hours of gameplay even on 2nd easiest difficulty and w/ a friend and a guide hello). Core cast is poggers tho love these high schoolers and I don't think anyone would be surprised to hear I love futaba the most

Have kinda accepted that I've fallen out of love with KH and frankly don't feel a lot of hype for 4. 3 was a solid gameplay entry with some neat use of worlds for the filler plot but the more time goes on the more disappointed I get with how it handled resolving anything from all the build up, shafting it in favor of setting up a game that doesn't even exist yet.

Because of this I REALLLLY loved Endwalker and was very happy to play it on release (oops back on XIV braincell)

I do miss RikuVen tho and think about how Re:Mind validated the hell out of me by confirming Riku hung out with the Wayfinders and to the lil guys out there making content big fucking salute I'm sorry I'm a bitter woman who couldn't handle expectations.

Have a wild ass idea about XIV/Fates crossover to give an excuse for Ysayle/Corrin to exist they are just about perfect together but can't quite figure out how to make a plot to justify it that I'm satisfied with

I made a quotes bot on twitter that may not last much longer but eh

Gotten really into The Oh Hellos not out of any christian love but moreso the lyrics are just (chef kiss)

TAZ Ethersea season one was. Okay? It started really strong but fell off like the shoreline which was. sad. I can hope season 2 learns better from the mistakes there but also can't be too mad improv-based storytelling is hard to 100% nail

is that everything? I think that's like everything. still me just now several years older and just a smidge wiser and man I'm gonna be 26 in like. a week.

oops.

[peearrdee]

Tubbo’s Nightmare

Summary: As Tubbo’s horns have grown in they’ve start to look all too familiar. Ranboo eases his worried mind.

Characters: Tubbo, Ranboo. Mentions of Schlatt, Wilbur Soot, and Technoblade.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Blood, violence, nightmares/flashbacks/traumatic memories, the events of the Manberg-Pogtopia War, Tubbo’s execution, and Doomsday.

Word count: 917

Tubbo isn’t sure what’s shaking more, the ground or him. Maybe it’s both. The TNT begins to rain down, the flashing column of it like a deadly mirror of the hanging lanterns. In the distance, he can hear the bays and howls of Technoblade’s hunting dogs and the screams as they tear into his citizens. 

He stumbles over a body, and when he turns to look down at them he’s staring at the wooden floor of the van and a pair of dusty brown boots. The weight of the shield on his arm is gone. In fact, his whole arm is numb. His chest feels like it’s being squeezed by a giant fist.

He catches his reflection in the window. A stained, wrinkled suit. Heavy, curling ram’s horns. A sardonic smile and shitty facial hair.

Wilbur says something and Tubbo looks back at him. He can’t understand the words, Wilbur’s saying something but the blood outlining his teeth is too much, the sword in his chest that pours blood onto the floor like a spilled potion is too much. Wilbur points a crossbow at Tubbo, right over the crushing pain in his chest. The tip of the rocket digs in. A pair of hooves steadies the body of the crossbow.

“I’ll make it as painless as possible, Tubbo!” Technoblade says, his words seared into Tubbo’s memory like the scars on his skin. The rocket goes off, overloading his senses with pain and color. Everything is screaming, including him.

The scream jolts Ranboo from his sleep and he sits up quickly. Next to him in the dark, he can see Tubbo trembling under the covers. Another nightmare.

“Tubbo,” he warns before touching his husband’s arm. Tubbo’s head still whips around blindly in panic, before he sees Ranboo’s eyes glowing in the darkness.

“Ranboo. . ?” He’s still not sure if he’s really awake, his body feels far too insubstantial. He touches his chest, where his heart hammers. It’s still beating, not clutched in Quackity’s hand.

“Mhm. Right here.” He rests his hand on Tubbo’s back. Tubbo leans into it, moving the covers to get closer to Ranboo. The weight of his hand is solid and warm, but the nightmare was just as tangible. He imagined could taste whiskey in the back of his throat and smell tobacco on his clothes.

“Do you want the mirror?” Ranboo asks, already grabbing the hand mirror they kept at the bedside for this purpose.

Tubbo nods, touching the side of his face nervously. There was stubble there, confirming his fears. He swallows, not looking at the mirror in Ranboo’s hand. Ranboo takes his hand, wrapping it in his own and gently working his clenched fist open. He’ll worry over the deep red marks Tubbo’s nails left in his palms later. The nightmare is more important.

The first time this happened, Ranboo wasn’t there. But now that they share a home together, they’ve settled into a routine. Put out the light, say goodnight, and if Tubbo wakes up screaming, or Ranboo starts to walk, the other will wake up and soothe the memories that haunt them. Fears like theirs are a difficult thing to defeat, they’ve found.

For Tubbo, it’s a blanket, mirror, and Ranboo’s weight at his back. Tucked into Ranboo’s lap with a blanket wrapped around him, he feels safe. Ranboo holds the mirror for him and wipes away the tears with a corner of the blanket. It’s still him, after everything. Obviously. But there’s always the voice in the back of his head asking “what if”. The horns on his head are just beginning to curl and he can see the stubble on his face.

Ranboo taps his shoulder. “Hey. Tubbo. Look at me. You’re nothing like him.”

“L’Manberg blew up because of me. It was fine when he was president.”

“You were running it, weren’t you? Schlatt just did the speeches.”

Tubbo hugs his knees tighter. “I wasn’t a good president, Ranboo. I exiled Tommy.”

Ranboo hums in two tones, trying to find the right words. “. . . You did, but that doesn’t make you a bad person right now. You’ve changed. You’re better.”

Tubbo doesn’t reply. He feels the same as he did back then.

“Hold on, hold on. I have an idea.” Ranboo pulls his memory book from his inventory, flipping through it. He finds a page from a few weeks ago. Lore-wise, it was insignificant, but it meant the world to him. “Tubbo’s different than I thought he was. In L’Manberg, he was always so serious. Now that I’m spending more time with him, he’s more than that. He likes having fun, and he’s easy to talk to. He has plans to build a new home, away from all the bad memories.”

He flips to another page. “Tubbo’s different now that Dream’s in prison. He smiles way more than he used to and he looks more relaxed. I think he’s figured out that we need to choose people, not sides. He made me a flower crown today, after we brought Michael home. He said poppies remind him of me because they’re red and green like my eyes.”

Tubbo looks up at him, gobsmacked. “You wrote that in your memory book?”

Ranboo nods his head. “Well yeah, I wanted to remember it, that was a really fun day.”

Tubbo looks down at their clasped hands. Ranboo’s long, thin fingers are laced between his much smaller fingers. Both have scars and a wedding ring. He smiles and squeezes Ranboo’s hand. “Thank you.”