#also sorry for the RP thread

[junkyard-gifs]

She's not the only one. Hello, beautiful but terrifying Munkustrap.

Broadway, 1984.

…ok but like slightly Cryptic Victoria anyone???

the amazing Valerie wright as Victoria, Claude Tessier as Munkustrap, Joe Cavise as Coricopat and Jay poindexter as a very cute Tumblebrutus. Photo was taken By Paige Dana who was Etcetera and Rumpleteazer.

(source)

[bananasfosterparent]

An anti-AA account posted a comment akin to "I'm tired of the fandom being taken over by sex pests who are obsessed with abusive relationships" in response to the AA kisses being optimized for evil route roleplayers. They were implying that we "bullied" Larian into "changing the narrative they created". (which is a whole other rant post on its own lol). And some others agreed.

Is... is this really how they see us? lmao

I am just baffled because so many loud Anti-AA people are:

constantly going on and on about how it's supposed to be an abusive relationship

constantly reminding AA fans of all the abuse AA supposedly does

writing fanfiction and drawing comics showcasing AA as an abusive partner to Tav/Durge

making absolute statements that AA is locked out of healing and only able to treat Tav abusively

making absolute statements that everything good AA says is narcissistic lovebombing and only everything bad he says (after Tav insults him) is to be taken as truth

only ascending him to get AA romance scene screenshots (with an "I hate AA but..." disclaimer usually attached).

thirsting after AA's romance scenes in general while condemning actually playing/enjoying the ending as a whole because... *drum roll* abuse.

brigading Larian on their Discord with messages to "protect their narrative" to drown out AA fans just asking for rp-friendly animations.

AND YET....AA fans--who actively avoid and reject the abuse narrative headcanon and enjoy AA as a whole and not just for the sexiness--are apparently the sex pests, obsessed with abusive relationships. Out of all the AA stories, comics, and things I've consumed from AA fans, none of it ever seems to include the abuse narrative or glorifing him solely for sexual reasons.

Huh...

[savior-of-humanity]

@hymns-across-the-stars -- continued from here!

--

Atreus was no stranger to being lost in a foreign realm, with little - if any - means of getting his bearings regarding just where exactly he was. It was something he was accustomed to, really, especially given how far he had traveled and how many sights he had seen in his journeys through the Nine Realms and beyond. It usually didn't take him long to adjust to a new situation, to learn how to navigate both geography and conversations with any local peoples that lived there. But the place he found himself in now was unlike anything he had ever seen in his entire life. In every direction that the Jotunn looked and traversed, Atreus was surrounded by a sprawling labyrinth of ancient, worn metal; expertly constructed, yet weathered from wind and time. Even beneath the plant life that seemed to grow from almost every single surface of the complex, he could tell that the architecture and craftsmanship was utterly alien to him. Not to mention, given just how far the tunnels and shafts that made up its depths went, no civilization he knew of could've made such a massive complex. And yet, there was no sign of any people living here...

...well, except for the creatures that called this maze home.

Many were just as alien as the labyrinth itself, though they held similarities to other creatures Atreus had seen before; multi-colored lizards the size of dogs, roving packs of spiders, enormous armored centipedes, and too many other little things to list off. He swore he saw a glimpse of what looked like some sort of enormous bird-like creature soaring above, but given the huge towers that reached up to the heavens and obscured the sky almost totally, it disappeared just as quickly as he'd spotted it. Survival wasn't too difficult, which was largely due to the relative abundance of both safe food and drinking water; but as the sun eventually began to approach the distant horizon, he knew he'd have to find shelter for the night. There was no telling what sort of nasty critters would come out in the dark, after all - but the abrupt noise of some distant commotion snapped Atreus out of his thoughts of finding a place to hunker down. Atreus paused and listened; normally, he'd avoid it entirely as it'd usually just be a scuffle between some big lizards, but there were no snapping jaws, guttural snarls, teeth digging into skin and flesh. What he could hear insisted solely of ghastly shrieks and what he could only describe as small explosions. Logic dictated that he should ignore it and keep looking for shelter while he still had daylight - but something about it urged him to go, to look. And look he would. It'd taken him a while given how long and winding the passages of the labyrinth's underbelly were, but eventually he'd crawl out of a vent overlooking a small ledge to spot the source of the once-distant battle. There were two creatures that were of immediate interest to Atreus; one was a huge, gaunt and avian-looking creature, much like the one he had spotted a glimpse of earlier in the day. Its hostile gaze was locked upon the other individual; a small red-furred creature resembling some strange cross between a mollusk and a cat. And, based on the way they not only held their body posture but also wielded a spear, Atreus immediately guessed that the little thing was not only intelligent, but also exhausted from a previous fight. He didn't hesitate to notch an arrow into the string of his bow, draw, and then send it flying straight at the tusked face of the bird-beast. In that moment, Atreus learned two things; the first was that the skull-like face of the "bird" was not a face but rather a mask. Through a stroke of luck, the arrow had hit at just the right angle to dislodge it from the creature's true face, sending it clattering to the overgrowth below. The second was that this also happened to piss it off. Severely.

He didn't wait for its response - already he had leapt from the ledge to the ground below, landing into a roll to minimize potential injury from the impact, before he jumped back to his feet and began to run like Hel to the closest semblance of safety. Which, coincidentally, happened to be in the general direction of the red-furred spear wielder. "GO!" He had no idea if they could understand him or if they could even speak, but he hoped that at the very least, the urgency and volume of his voice would spook the creature into fleeing as well. "RUN! RUN! I HAVE ITS ATTENTION!" He knew that because he could literally hear it coming after him with those huge beating wings. All he could really do was hope that he was faster than it was.

[king-midas-fortnite]

* @peely-of-the-na waves at you! He mimes out tying a tie and shrugging on a suit jacket. He gives two big thumbs up, them looks at you inquisitively.*

*Hmm. Maybe more context is needed! Peely begins to do charades. Shark attack... Long time... Now here. Oh! He's asking how you've been since you worked together!*

Well hello, Peely.

*He pauses while trying to decipher your meaning. He used to be much better at this, but it had been an awful long while since he spoke to you. He's grateful for the additional signing.*

I've been alright. Well, dead for a little while, but back now and doing better than anyone in my position could likely hope for.

*He chuckles.*

How have you been? Not browning anywhere are we?

[silenceofthewave]

( okay. i am back and ready to fuck shit up. so. fair warning, i am dropping all my previous threads. there were too many, and they are buried. BUT!! that means!!! i am open to new threads!!! so send me asks and torture soundwave. )

( this applies to u 1024.14 only, and does not include threads started today. all of my more serious threads are safe and sound. )

[desalvar]

ayo i'm not dead!

[coolspacequips]

FUCK man I'm so DEPRESSED LOL.... only thing I feel generally is EXHAUSTED I've been only trying to get myself to write something for days and can't focus or have enough energy to even do THAT..... RI...P......

[stcnefruit]

— open starter.

status - open to all, but pls read my rules and mobile about (pinned post) first before interacting. don't like my starters. muse - vasti inaiê souza gonçalves, sculptor, potter and printmaker. bisexual, uses she/her pronouns. human, thirty. wanted opposites (in order of priority) - m/nb/f, 30+. mocs (muns/muses of color) preferred. wanted connections - literal strangers, an ex, fellow artist, someone they haven't seen since sixth grade, as long as they're a little richer than vasti is (and not related) go literally batshit plot - they're on their way to personally deliver one of their commissions but they haven't slept well in over 48 hours (they've slept enough to not get pulled over, they can drive) and really should have hired a truck or sent it through the post but hey they've done it before and the client is right across town (or city, cough) so it shouldn't be too bad right? they'll make it except you just kind of yk. rear-ended them at the stoplight and their shit's in the trunk bc it couldn't fit in the back seat and now you might have just fucked shit up if that packing wrap isn't as good as it's marketed to be. potential meet cute with insurance problems and career threatening happenings basically, what could be better than that

— she hears it before she feels it, the way the body of the car lurches underneath her at the street corner. the rattling in the back is too loud for her to ignore, and she's already doing inventory on what she has with her. registration papers, house keys, studio keys, that flat tire kit she's never had to use in her life and hopes she won't have to now, the delivery— oh God, fuck, the delivery. in the trunk. surrounded by a shit ton of bubble wrap and cling film and whatever the fuck else she wrapped it in at 3am two days ago and placed it in its box, but last she checked no flat tire makes that kind of sound like the kind where there's a bit too much metal and you know in your gut you'll need to call your insurance company. both of them, in her case, if the vehicle in her rearview mirror is giving anything to go by. que se lixe isso, this is not a good day. her blood pressure was not made for this. neither was her neck, for that matter, but she doubts there was enough speed behind the impact to cause any whiplash worth worrying about. she unlocks her phone as she steps out, car door slamming closed behind her, insurance already on speed dial. as a precaution she takes a few photos of the other car's license plate, now neatly tucked (along with the front bumper) just barely under her chassis—she is not paying for this shit if she doesn't have to, especially if the driver in question has enough money to be driving a car like that right into her sedan and especially if they might have just jeopardized her commission. three months, hundreds of hours, possibly damaged in her trunk because it's the one day she didn't have her morning coffee and decided to put it there instead of the backseat, bubble wrap or no bubble wrap. yeah, she'll milk every last penny from that payout while she's at it. might as well be pissed for a reason. 'hey,' she says, coming up to the window as it rolls down, 'i'm sorry, this is going to sound so completely fucking obvious and i know this and you know this but i think you just rear-ended me? and there's something in my trunk that i really need to get out and check on before this day goes any further to shit than it already has so if you could please try and back the fuck up, it would be much appreciated. juro o túmulo da minha mãe.' her mother is alive, thank you very much, but it's not like they need to know that in english or portuguese. // @indiestarter

[lastcrush]

open to  :  anyone 40+.    muse  :  vicente cortez.  46.  retired formula one driver.  he/him. plot  :  very recently broke up and your muse comes over to pick up boxes of their stuff from vicente's place but oh no the raging storm outside knocks the power out... 

          "     okay.  okay , stop.     "     vicente flips the light switch a couple times , gives up , and turns on the flashlight on his phone.     "     i don't like the idea of you behind the wheel when it's storming like that.     "     or them behind the wheel at all , but that's a matter for another time.     "     stay until it's calmed down.  if it makes you feel any better , i'm terrified of the dark and you'd be doing me yet another favor keeping me company.     "     he hopes his joke lands , though with the tense air between them , he wouldn't blame them if they walked out anyway in response.

[zantedeschia-praesul]

//to all my oomfies, here's an obligatory "im sorry for whatever my muse(s) has said/done, is saying/doing, or is about to say/do" to any and every person who interacts with me. respectfully.

[piningpercussionist]

Aside from the delicate touch of a redhead and borderline infidelity, did you get Ramona anything for her birthday?

".... Shit."

Kim stares blankly at her phone for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Did she know that? Did she know it was Ramona's birthday? She tried to recall but kept drawing up blanks. Had she not told them her birthday?

Maybe the panic was making her forget.

Kim bites her lip as she pockets her phone, leaving the ask unanswered; she'd give them some vague non-answer and verbal attack another time. Apparently, she has a birthday girl to tend to.

The guilt feels light enough to ignore now anyhow, as she shuts off the water fully and moves towards the door; she tries not to doubt that Ramona will make her forget about it entirely.

But as her hand reaches for the knob, she hears approaching footsteps, and goes still...

[morganaux]

@soulseeresque (continued from here!)

Composure was a skill that any member of Ishgard's nobility would have to cultivate to survive in their cutthroat world, and Morganaux had learned it well. It was easy for him to keep a smile on his lips in situations where it would be unbecoming of him to let his true feelings slip through, and in the times where it was not so easy, a bit of magic was all it would take to keep up the façade.

This knowledge was all but forgotten when he found himself pulled into the warmth of Raphael's arms, staring wide-eyed like a startled deer as a frigid hand cupped his face and drew a shiver from him.

And then, blinking back tears, the Elezen wordlessly returned the embrace, clinging tightly to his companion as he allowed his sorrow to finally be shown. How could he possibly lie to such a kind soul who had endured a Coerthan storm to be at his side, and who gave him the comfort he so desperately needed, but was not brave enough to ask for?

"I'll be alright too, I think. Not now, and perhaps not even for a long time, but... I will be," Morganaux confessed softly, just barely able to be heard over the raging winds— just loudly enough for the two of them. "Just your presence is enough. You've already done so much for me as it is."

Closing his eyes, he nuzzled against the hand upon his cheek, wishing he could bring himself to ask for more— to voice the thoughts that simple touch had inspired in his shattered heart. But it would be wrong to do so, so soon after the loss of the man he loved. And besides, it had been a mere gesture of comfort, nothing more or less than that. ...It was, wasn't it?

"Will you... Take me someplace warm? I'd hate to keep you out in the cold just because I want to stand out here being melodramatic. I think in this weather, they won't have a problem letting us find refuge in the Vault. Can we... Can we go in there?"

[savior-of-humanity]

@eterniityblooms

--

Atreus didn't know what was worse; that he was currently lost in a completely unfamiliar realm, that he couldn't even remember how he got here, or that he was totally alone.

There were a handful of times that Father allowed him to stray from his side on hunting trips - usually to get a visual on whatever prey they happened to be tracking - but it was never far. He always had him stay close, so that in case something happened, he could rush to his aid. But here, he was by himself, with no-one to watch his back except for his own senses.

Fortunately, he still had his bow and arrows on him, and he had a decent bit of survival knowledge under his belt - so it wasn't like Atreus was totally helpless. He figured the first course of action would be to familiarize himself with his surroundings.

He appeared to be in some sort of incredibly elaborate ruins, so large that they sprawled in every direction he looked. But instead of being built of stone and wood, his surroundings were almost entirely made of metal. Who had the capacity to build such elaborate structures, he wondered? Either way, it was clear that this place had been abandoned for a very long time, judging by the flora that grew on almost every single surface.

Well. Standing around wasn't going to do him much good - so Atreus got moving.

He quickly found that, while devoid of people, the ruins were bustling with life. It mostly consisted of just small bugs like moths and grasshoppers nestled among the vegetation, though on occasion he spotted some particularly large bugs that looked and fluttered about like bats. They quickly scattered, however, and Atreus would soon discover why.

There was a sort of shuffling and thumping noise - like something was heaving itself along the ground - until, from around a corner, emerged a particularly large lizard. Black, save for its bright green head and accents, and easily the size of a wolf. It scented at the air for a moment, before its beady black gaze landed on him.

...Uh oh.

Believe it or not, for a lizard whose primary means of locomotion was basically dragging itself along the ground, it was surprisingly fast. Fast enough that, by the time Atreus managed to climb up one of the skinny pole-frames that jutted up into the air, it was already at the base of the pole, huge jaws snapping at the air beneath his feet. He drew his bow and fired a warning shot; to his immense surprise, the arrow bounced off the lizard's head and did absolutely nothing to deter it. It just paced below, hissing and drooling with thoughts of hunger and prey clouding its animal mind.

He had a feeling he was going to be stuck up here for a while.

[justatouchjaded]

(Continued from here with @scxrytxles )

scxrytxles:

Alice listens. And she watches. And she tries, again, to imagine what the many lives the child has lived might have looked like. How they might have tasted to pucker his mouth and curdle his soft, sweet little face. Her expression mirrors his, only a bit and only for a moment before her cheer returns. A viciously bright sort of optimism that swings like a heavy pendulum. “That’s perfect!” She points at him, so hard and fierce and quick that the penz flies from her fingers and whizzes past his head. Whoops! She can’t stop, now, though, this is important. Alice springs to her feet, notebook loosely clutched between her fingers as she trots across the floor. Her shadow creeps across Diamond’s little form as she peers over him, searching for the purple sheen of her pen. Ooh, there it is. She drops to her knees, reaches past him and pats the ground until her fingers close around the cool metal and she brings it back to herself. Alice glances over her shoulder, considers going back to her place, but decides No. She’d rather sit here. Alice plops onto the floor, scoots close so that she can feel the warmth of a Person beside her, and Diamond can see her paper. Well. Almost. Her hair is… it’s kind of in the way. Alice quickly brushes it to the side, fingers raking through it to force it to stop, sit, STAY- “I, Alice Riddle-Tongue,” She begins, curled and looping letters blooming from the nib in a smooth line of glittery ink. It takes a moment for her letters to catch up with her mouth, of course, because it is important that it be legible. The recipe won’t do Diamond much good if he can’t read it, hm? “Daughter Life who was born of Mother Death, Sister to the Cicadas and Keeper of Creations great and small charge Diamond thus-” A pause. She gathers her words like river stones, looking for the smoothest and shiniest and prettiest - “Every seven days, he will follow his mother and father to my temple with an offering, be it drawn or written or cooked in the hearth, and he will leave it-” She pauses, flow interrupted. A soft, conspiratorial whisper. “Diamond? Can you describe the temple for me?”

Diamond hesitates as Alice settles beside him. She’s a god. But he’s tired, and she picked him up earlier with none of the wariness his parents fail to hide from him, and…

His fragile will cracks when Alice brushes her hair out of the way, and he cautiously leans against her side, head resting on her upper arm. Her skin is cool. It soothes the edges of the headache that’s been starting to build as he tries to answer her questions. 

He stays there, if Alice lets him; watches her write, skilled dark hands crafting glittering lines, and listens to the smooth, poetic rhythm of her voice. 

A rhythm that falters, coaxing out a fond smile and a silent breath of a laugh. Alice’s whisper has the air of a hushed conversation in a theater—a furtive attempt to avoid interrupting her own performance. It feels almost like an invitation behind the curtain, intentional or not.

“Sure. Ah…” Diamond straightens, fluffy brows furrowing with soft concentration as he calls the layout to mind.

“The temple looks like a cottage, with a garden in front. Inside, the middle part is this big room for, ah… groups. Meetings. Mostly the chairs are set up in lines, but sometimes there are tables or pillows. People hang things on the walls — quilts, and art, and news, and feathers and things they’ve found. It changes. There are some shelves where kids can put things they find or make, too.”

He lifts his hands to frame the air, describing a central building with two offshoots. “The chapel’s its own… wing? On one side. It has a — hm.” Atrium. He knows this, but only as a ghost-word; the wrong language. Diamond grimaces and flaps that hand. “An open part, in the roof, and a pool below.” Diamond’s expression softens as he looks around Alice’s room. “Kind of like here… less stuff, but with a fountain, and altar, and plants. It’s peaceful.”

He points to the other imaginary wing on the opposite side of the temple. “The other part is the ob—ob-serv-atory, and greenhouse. I haven’t been in it, but I’ve seen bugs in the greenhouse through the glass. And then… behind the temple, between the wings, there’s another garden. It has—”

Diamond blinks as he realizes he’s droning on, and rubs at his forehead with a small sound of discomfort. He’d… been thinking about the memories of making journals, and from there the rhythm of how he would record the temple’s layout and function had taken over. He looks sheepishly up at Alice. “Mm. Sorry… is any of that what you need?”

[blackthorn-legion-irl]

STOP BEING SO FUCKING KIND TO ME I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE

I SENT A CORPSE TO A CHILD

...

You're too kind for your own good.

Fuck.

//Hello!! Rwat anon mod!! You're doing great lol no need to be nervous about interacting- if anything I was because I got accused of being- a not so great person yesterday and I was worried people were going to think that this character or that person was me ooc. Anyways, about rwat. They have severe intrusive thoughts constantly, and were in a manic state while sending threats and shit to paris which peaked with that package to sprite- but has now dipped down and they're more reasonable, though still unstable

i'll tell you one thing that i've never told anyone on here before. i know that this will make it publically known. but i think telling you will help.

i've done worse.

i don't know what - i've repressed most of that memory. but i was a stupid kid. i'm still a stupid adult sometimes. i probably snapped. my point is - if i can come back from that, so can you.

if you don't want to talk for now - or at all - i understand. i'll work on finding a good therapist near you who doesn't work with the cops - not sure if that's a worry you had, but easing it anyway. cops suck but if you'd like i will absolutely support you, okay? i can't go too extreme without drawing attention, but through... slight money laundering through my dude in johto i can make sure you have at least stable housing and supplies so you don't have to worry about those.

just remember. small steppy better than no steppy. and two steps forward one step back is still a net gain.

[savingthrcw]

@freedcmscall continuing from this

"Hey, could've been worse. You could've been the idiot who supported the Circle and the Templars like Yours Truly here did." Served them well that she had become so influential after severing her bond with them.

But she was glad she could always have a laugh with Anders - after walking away from most of her friends, after losing her magic, Neria had been distant. Her actions were, of course, still always aimed to help, and she was there for others if they needed a hand, but she wasn't as ready to have conversations, or let them be there for her. Her only explanation for not having magic had been 'I lost it, it's gone' and then having a few drinks with Oghren to deal. And then there was Anders. Anders, and moments like this, that made her want to leave her shell for a little.

"Okay... I'm so sorry for what's about to happen, Anders, truly, but... I'm going to have to be serious with you for a minute, no jokes, no evading. And I suck at it, so let's try to make this quick and painless, alright? I'll just say the thing and move on."

She took a deep breath, and then actually put a hand over Anders' shoulder to face him and let him see that she meant her words: "I am going to find your phylactery, and I'm going to destroy it. But before that happens, and after that happens... you are a Warden. So you are never, ever, going back to the Circle. We are not going to betray our own. And when I die, Alistair will be the one in charge, and he feels the exact same way. If they try to take you by force they know damn well it will mean war with the Grey Wardens, but considering that I helped everyone I met ever since I left the Circle, and people know this, and hundreds have watched me kill an Archdemon and still hail me when I walk into any Ferelden city... I don't think they can afford that anymore. Now, feel free to insult the Chantry and this whole stupid system as much as you want... but I want to hear it from me, at least once, that I am never going to give you up and you don't need to be afraid you'll actually go back. You are one of us, you are not a Circle mage anymore. And they can choke on that." Had they not been so busy running around over this new threat, she'd have already pulled a Duncan and walked into the Circle Tower to demand the blood. "Understood?"