as much as i love how systems are slowly being accepted and pushed into healing, the future is not plural.
if you mean ‘the future will be accepting of plurality, and will offer plurals to heal into a whole singular identity’ then good.
but if you mean ‘the future will be full of systems who were created by trauma’ then please get help. we dont want that. if the future is plural, the future is fragmented and disconnected for life.
guys i need to consume dustyrottencrop (i hate that name) content consider this an invitation to self promote or link/suggest any horror dust farm content, art, fics, ideas, headcanons whatever in the ask box or comments or reblogs or anywhere😭
i will swallow it whole
there’s not enough of them i’m having ship withdrawls
Now, in wake of our newest (and final) event, I'd say you all should grab a box of tissues. We are going to be here for a while!
Why, you ask?
The answer, my dear campers, is because our camp-sanctioned farewell meeting is upon us. The mess hall will indeed be messy — messy with TEARS. TEARS AND EMOTIONS.
Have fun, despite our grievances and sad, big ol' eyes that we will LOOK AT YOU WITH!
Your representatives for this FINAL ROUND are…
Cabin One: @beetleviolet
Cabin Two: @thejavavoid
Cabin Three: @leo-kinnie
Cabin Four: @re-fried-beanz
Cabin Five: @kiku91 and @sparkym00n
Cabin Six: @mushyroomswebkinz
Cabin Seven: @xxsociallyunacceptablepuppetxx
Cabin Eight: @usernameneon
Cabin Nine: @alextheleoandraphsimp and @likablemuffin
Ooh i’ve been itching to write for them but waited til I started a durge campaign…
What mostly gets me is the way he looks so softly at durge.
Going to do a neutral/good route durge for this one… or at least implied that you spared the companions throughout it.
The click of your boots announced your entry in the audience hall. Gortash, ever-so-kindly, invited you to his inauguration. As your gaze darted amongst the pillars, detailed decorations and the red carpet laid underneath your feet… a certain feeling stirred in your chest. Deja-vu, a familiarity. You’ve been here before. You hated that feeling so much. It’s all you’ve grown accustomed to besides the gnawing hunger for violence. At the throne sat a tan man with messy black hair. His eyes bore into you despite the distance and he arose. His steps were exaggerated- clearly he had a thing for flare.
“I must greet a most honored guest. My favorite assassin!”
He spoke as if he knew you. He closed the distance between you with a few more strides. You could see him more clearly now as he stood a couple feet from you. His look was rugged but his clothes were fine tuned. He wore stubble and deep set brown eyes. You expected him to regard you so coldly. You killed one of his allies Ketheric Thorm. What you didn’t expect was his gaze to be so soft. There was almost a twinkle in his eye and his lips were curved upwards. You should hate this man. You should want to claw his throat out from the way Karlach spoke of him. Yet, all you could think of was the fuzz in your subconscious. A part of your brain recognized him as something beyond a stranger. It was almost affectionate. It’s clear he picks up on your struggle as he seems to perk. A hope simmers in his expression and you wish to ever dampen it. You just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.