#aaaaaAAAAHHHHHH

[j00stkl31n]

He needs to bring this fucking haircut back please 😭

[wwillywonka]

SILCO & JINX: CYCLES

[ashtonsunshine]

you’re already everything 🥹 baby clifford 11/11/23 🤍

via Michael's instagram. 12th June 2023

[xxitslivxx]

AGH I HATE MARK AND WALLTERS LORE JUST STAY TOGETHER WHY HAVE A DIVORCE? AND WHAT ABT UR KID, LAMPERT?!

[suremango]

Has anyone ever thought about how young chip looked? Like yeah he struggled all his life and probably physically wilted, his skin riddled with scars. But he's still 19. So what if whenever his body was covered all they could see was a boy? A young man, youthful and ambitious and abit of a bastard. A crooked smile on a baby face. He never seemed that old, a future ahead of him, a future painted by a raspy and pitched voice, eyes haunted but looking for all the world. Greedy and selfish, heart full of more gold than he ever could want. Mischievous and clever, energetic and witty, selfless and brash, young and alive..

And now, now that his heart had been ripped from his throat. It leaves his chest hollow and his voice hoarse, deepened like an echo spoken through magic alone. No hope or life in a voice that lacks a proper tone. And he tries to use it. To spill out that future but the echo just gets louder as he grows further. He looks at his skin and misses how his scars looked healed, how his skin beamed with color even in them and how he could feel its warmth. His fire tattoo so faded it looks more like smoke and his skin so pale and grey like it belongs to same pallet with the black dripping from his mouth. He doesn't taste blood. doesn't taste at all. He feels empty. He yearns for breath with no place to hold it. His body didn't even get the chance to fight before it lost. Dead and decaying by the second.

And he looks at his friends. And for once, he sees nothing in their eyes, no reflection of him because they don't see him.

In their eyes, they see him break and shatter. His image a million pieces on the ground. And as he gets up before they could process, the pieces reformed in an instant but there's something wrong. They see him get up and fight, yell and joke, laugh and comfort. They don't miss that sliver of echo in his voice. How it changed just enough it's unsettling. How his eyes look no longer haunted but rather lifeless. These are the eyes of their friend and it scares them. His body is losing it's life so fast. He gets thinner than he already was and his skin ages, malnourished and lacking, his face looks disgustingly older to the point they don't recognize him. The color in his hair fades so fast. And then it falls, eyes sinking and skin practically melting and tearing like it's some old fabric weakened by age. His chest sinks and his fingers wrinkle and tear to bone. His smile torn by something that's more akin to their flag. Even his bones are scratched and withered.

And yet they still hug him, still love him. They don't recognize him. Almost fear him. See him in the hollowed they kill. Worry for a second it's him that they killed. When his whisper quiet footsteps are behind them, when a sharp, cold touch grases their shoulders they force themselves to not look panicked. You think jay, with all the fear instilled into her, once turned around and almost shot him in the skull? he'd barely withered at that point and she could see his eyes so full of hurt. Maybe as gillion ruthlessly cut through the crowds of hollowed had almost struck him, stopped by his friends yelp, his eyes and mind lagging behind before he remembers. And chip is just left to dwell on how he's no longer the boy that arlin knew or loved, how he probably won't recognize him. And since that's the first person to make him feel human, feel alive, then that would mean he's back to being nothing at all.

[thatmintleaf]

IT'S SNOW IT'S SNOW IT'S SNOWING HOLY SHIT OH MY GODS

THE SNOW

[wortverlust]

[audliminal]

Made the mistake of getting anxious and refreshing the projections and now I think I'm gonna have a meltdown....

[28rainbowsnakes]

You don’t fear roller coasters. Roller coasters fear you.

(a saying I made up just now)

ANYWAYS HAPPY BIRTHDAY WOOHOO!! I HOPE YOU HAVE LOADS OF FUN!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

OMG AAHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH THANK YOU!!!!!

[pato-roldnart]

your art is absolutely LOVELY. such a unique, striking style - you capture expressions and atmosphere and the HUMAN-ness of your subjects SO beautifully. i'm enraptured, in awe, etc etc. gosh, thanks for sharing your talent with us ❤️

OMG 😭😭😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH

This is the best ask, I'm going to treasure it forever, really thank you!!! thank you for your kind words, I always try to make my art as expressive as I can and it being noticed just means a lot to me 🥺🥺

[ask-screamer]

hey watch this.. FUCKING THROWS A BOTTLE AT YOU

AAAAAAH AAAAAAAAAAHH

[lyssitalennon]

IM THE FIRST BARBIE COSPLAY HES SEEN AND OH MY GOD HES SO NICE I WAS SO STARSTRUCK YESTERDAY I COULD BARLEY SPEAK BUT I COULD TODAY THIS HAS BEEN THE BEST WEEKEND OF MY LIFE SO FAR

[yume-fanfare]

matrícula: ya me acordaré o algo supongo

inscripciones de la japan: 3 alarmas

[teddybeartoji]

/whispers/ love is the point. and i love you.

LOVE IS THE POINT OF IT ALLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH YOU DESERVE THE WORLD MY ANGEL<3333333

[maepersonal]

*sigh*

guess who’s big depresso again

I’ve been in bed all day haha things are going great (/s)

I miss the manic episode (even tho I might be wanted by the cops now)

that one was so fucking short

sure I couldn’t do anything for more than 10 seconds, but at least I had energy and could be excited about things (which is what’s expected of me)

[mareastrorum]

WIP Wednesday: TF&TS (Trostenwald)

Here is a scene from an early chapter of a longfic I am working on.

Fanfic Summary: Mollymauk Tealeaf survived the encounter with the Iron Shepherds, but a short time later, a spirit had begun hunting him, claiming that he stole his body. This Campaign 2 AU begins with Episode 26 and continues on from there.

This fanfic will be posted on AO3 starting in July. (AAAAAAAHHHHHH, WE’RE ALMOST THERE.)

Otis desperately wished a mood would come on, but that never happened on demand. It would have made this so much more tolerable.

A cloth mask, hood, and eyepatch were just enough to keep anyone in Trostenwald from looking too closely, but Otis wanted to move on as quickly as possible. Sure, trying the local brews at the Nestled Nook was nostalgic, but there were too many people here that might recognize them, and that would be horrible. They had never returned to this dump for plenty of good reasons. Unfortunately, the Tombtakers had been within a short distance of the town the evening prior, and Tyffial’s insistence on staying somewhere with beds had won out over their discomfort.

As a result, Otis did not mind in the least when they shook hands with Yorda while returning the room keys and an overwhelming icy flood of thoughts and sensation surged up their arm. It let them float away while someone else handled this shit. It was almost like buoying in the Ustaloch near the river mouth, when the current started to shift them along.

So Otis drifted to the Tombtakers’ table and hopped onto the bench, not thinking about anything in particular while they pulled down the mask and ate a breakfast plate that had been waiting for them. The conversation seemed distant, like watching a play from the cheap seats.

“They’re in some sort of forest, very hot and humid,” Cree murmured, the pupils in her yellow eyes blown wide as she stared at the obsidian mirror, set in a gold ring and back, in her hands. “A variety of vibrant green trees and colorful plants everywhere. Many animal noises constantly in the background. Lots of insects. The shadows appear about the same angle as here…”

As Cree described her vision, Tyffial looked at a small, worn map she had pulled from her pack. Otis vaguely thought that it looked like it was in Tyffial’s handwriting, which was odd, since it looked so worn.

Zoran wolfed down his plate and attempted to sneak some bacon from Tyffial’s. A dull butter knife stabbed into the table between his hand and her plate dissuaded him. She hadn’t even looked up from the map. Then he looked at Cree’s untouched meal, though he seemed to think better of it. He sighed and downed his tankard. Otis was glad to be seated on the opposite side of the table, or he’d have stolen from their plate instead.

After several minutes of description, Cree shook her head, her eyes returning to normal. She looked about to check the room, then put the mirror away in her bag.

“Any ideas?” Cree inquired as she looked to Tyffial and took a few bites of her neglected breakfast.

“That could be any number of islands,” Tyffial sighed. “It should be within four days’ distance of Nicodranas, so… most likely the Twinward Isles, Rumblecusp, or Urukayxl. Unless they landed on the mainland and ventured to an inland jungle. Perhaps not Rumblecusp since you didn’t see a volcano, but that might have been hidden by the canopy or simply out of view.”

“We gonna charter a ship to follow?” Zoran asked. “Been a time since I sailed the Lucidian.” Tyffial hummed her agreement, still looking down at her map in disapproval.

“Might need to,” Otis chimed melodically, without a moment of forethought. It was so weird to feel Lucien talking with their body, but it felt fine all the same. Kind of like the Pattern, but calmer and kind of chilly. Relaxing even.

Wow, Otis did not remember the last time they did anything to relax. Did anyone other than elves do that?

“Can you tell the direction, Cree?” Tyffial requested.

Cree hummed-growled as she chewed and pulled a vial of blood from her bag, holding her silver symbol in the same hand. She swirled the liquid within, then looked up and shifted to face another direction, swallowing her food.

“That way. Perhaps four or five hundred miles,” Cree stated with a nod.

Zoran looked down at Tyffial’s compass, then peeked at her map. “That’s south-southwest. In the direction of the gates.”

“They’re either in the Quoraska Jungle or on Urukayxl, then,” Tyffial concluded, showing the map to the group and pointing to the southern tip of the continent and an island further south.

“I’ll be able to tell once we’re closer,” Cree said. “It is difficult to be precise at this distance, even for me.”

“We’re another week out from Nicodranas, so if it’s the island, they might sail even further than that by the time we get a ship,” Tyffial added.

“Or they might return to port. We’ll see once we arrive in Nicodranas, then,” Lucien stated, his voice still layered with Otis’s. “Rather than chase them down, it may be best to wait for their return.”

Zoran snorted, “You wanna wait?”

“I don’t, but trailing after them at sea, outnumbered, with a crew we can’t trust would be worse,” Lucien replied. “Besides, I don’t want to risk my body accidentally sinking in a naval battle.”

“Well, it would probably float,” Tyffial commented with a grin. “But there could be a good chance of cannon damage. You wouldn’t mind losing some weight, would you?”

“If any of you try it, I’m getting you with the next one,” Lucien replied as he pointed with the knife, eliciting some chuckles from the rest. After a moment, he continued, “Before we leave, we’re stopping by the Stockade.”

“Why?” Tyffial asked with a raised brow. “A group like us would attract the wrong sort of attention there.”

“The innkeeper has a good memory,” Lucien drawled as Otis felt a smirk tug on their face instead of their preferred toothy smiles. “The Nein stayed here about two weeks back. Asked about someone named ‘Gustav’ who was a guest of the local lawmaster for some time. A friend of theirs, apparently. They bailed him out and he skipped town, but the lawmaster might have records or memories that could be of use. It won’t take long.”

“If you find any possessions or images of him, it would be easier for me to scry on him as well,” Cree added. “If we are lucky, you might be able to use him as a host.”

“That was the plan,” Lucien grinned. “We’ll see if it pans out. Eat up and let’s move.”