#i literally do anything BUT write on my own game

[kakao-lovey]

ꨄ︎ Single on Valentine's: ideas to inspire some self-love

We all have that person in our class or friend group that is seemingly always in love. It is easy to compare yourself and feel 'Not good enough' for a partner, 'Antisocial' (In this context, Asocial), or that you're 'Going to be alone forever'. I've got news: those people who are constantly in and out of relationships are rarely happy, because they need a romantic partner for validation. They have problems loving themselves, so they need someone else to do it for them. So, whether you're aromantic, newly single or have never even had a proper relationship -- you will NOT spend this Valentine's Day crying. Not on my watch.

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ꨄ The importance of self-love, and how to attain it

The only person you can spend your whole life with is YOU. The only person who will always be with you is YOU. If you want to actually be happy in life (As opposed to constantly seeking validation from others to be happy), you need to make amends and grow a healthy relationship with yourself. Now, that's all great and good in theory, but you have likely heard this a million times and still don't know how to actually go about it. You can take real-life steps to begin to love yourself, and all you need to start is ask this question: How would I treat the person I love most in this world?

ꨄ︎ Ideas for your best Valentine's Day yet

Firstly, if you're scared to go into public on your own on the 14th, thinking you'll be judged: do it. Have the audacity. Do what everyone else is too embarrassed to do. Think of it as practicing your confidence, taking steps to have a less insecure mindset.

Writing letters to your past, present and future self: tell nine-year-old you that it's going to be alright. Write to them to say that whatever happened is not their fault. Or tell future you that you're proud of them no matter what, because if they're reading it, they're still standing.

Love language of physical touch: yes, there are ways to speak this language with yourself! A lot of us can relate to the experience of rubbing our feet together like crickets when we're comfy. So get yourself your favourite blanket and curl up in bed with some music.

Affirmations: they work. Write some down in a notebook, decorate the page with stickers, or listen to an affirmation audio from YouTube. If you have the confidence, you can even say them out loud.

Getting yourself gifts: your favourite flowers, a snack you really enjoy, a video game, a skincare product, literally anything. Great thing is, you know yourself better than anyone, so your gifts will almost always be well received.

A self-portrait: get creative. Choose your favourite art medium, whether it be oil pastels, watercolour or even photography. It's a good exercise to appreciate the little details of your body, and how it works together to create a living being.

Speaking of your body, take care of it. It may not instantly make you feel better, but lifestyle choices like diet and exercise make a massive impact on your mental health in the long run. So eat those whole foods, drink your water and do some light exercise like yoga or going on a walk.

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No relationship is perfect, and it doesn't have to be! You're allowed to be angry or frustrated with yourself, but a lot of what I've experienced is just needless hatred, and we need to fix that. That's all! Bye, Lovies!

[beelanddiavolosimp-blog]

Pls pls pls write more for ur mc!!! Those headcanons were js 😩🙏🙏

Of course of course 😁

My MC headcanons

She is a switch but has many insecurities about her body but once that boundary is broken she is definitely hypersexual. A big(not) problem for the entire characters.

Lucifer

With Lucifer she loves being dominated by him. She will feed into his sadistic tendencies and allow him to practically bully her into submission. But! She often breaks him. She feels a surge of power when making Lucifer beg and he looks oh so pretty when he does so she often makes him beg wether its to fuck her, eat her out or even touch her.

Mammon

With Mammon she love LOVES teasing him. Not in a bully way a 'god you're so cute I want to fuck you' type of way. She is more handsy with him since she feels the most comfortable with him. He practically worships the ground she walks on so she isn't too scared he will find her disgusting like she does. By handsy she is full on tracing his abs, arms, back, boxers. Literally whatever she feels like doing and she enjoys watching his skin get goosebumps and see his cock slowly spring to life and then just disappear.

Levi

With Levi she is mostly a dom. She loves how pathetic he looks when begging or stuttering. She also doesn't feel as insecure with him either since he is even more insecure than her so she mostly focuses on making him feel better. A good distraction! She loves making him flush red in front of people saying the most outlandish things randomly like 'he may not look it but he is big' and leave no context to it. She also is very handsy with him but in a more gentle way. She will make him bend down (since she is short) and cup his face and play with his hair that she finds severely pretty. She will also make use of his love for her thighs making him sit in her lap and if she is feeling especially spicy she will wrap her thighs around his head and squeeze them randomly just to listen to whines.

Satan

With Satan it seems as if they never fuck at all. They are always comfortably cuddling or discussing a nice book they both enjoyed. It's all a play to what they really do. She loves voyeurism a lot and Satan enjoys pissing Lucifer off so they often fuck in places where Lucifer is near or where he will be. They get very aggressive with each other with her scratching down every part of him she can reach loving the red on his skin and him leaving bruises behind on her body from holding her down or getting too lost into the moment. He is one of the first people to choke her and her be okay with it. They have their own little thing with skirts and thigh highs.

Asmos

With asmos she sees him more of a friend so nothing sexual happens between them. All wholesome and funny for them.

Beel

Oh boy. She has a HUGE thing for himbos. Once she met beel she could not get over him. She admired him everyday and it was severely wholesome. She has a deep love for his smile and even more for his laugh. His eyes are something she will paint/draw over and over again. But this isn't wholesome time here. She constantly craves him. So much so that even asmos says she reeks of his sin when around Beel. She is shameless in watching his muscles wether it be him coming out of the shower wiping his face of sweat after a game or even him just stretching and a little bit of skin peeks out she is BRICKED. Hell even his voice gets to her. Once she breaks it to him she is practically in love and obsessed with him he is on cloud nine. He loves how much she wants him makes him feel very special. Now she isn't the greatest at head but she does have a tongue piercing she puts to use. She will lick over other parts of his body while she jacks him off. She is the one who leaves bite marks and bruises on his body practically worshiping him. When he does really anything to her she is LOUD. She also cums the fastest with him because well she loves him. It's not uncommon for beel to be covered in her scent and marks the brothers are severely jealous of this.

Belphie

With belphie it's like fucking your guy friend. She and him bully each other playfully back and forth. Yet their eyes hold a deep lust for one another. She is actually quite into somnophilia and oh boy does belphie love this. Not many of the brothers even know they do fuck since it is when they are asleep together. They do the most risky things like her cockwarming him on the couch with the brothers around but it only seems like belphie is sleeping and resting his head on her shoulder. When in reality she is gripping his hair panting softly as he is as well. They are the ones that fool around the most at school. Janitors closets hate to see them coming. She also is into him choking her and well just his hands in general. She does have to let him know she isn't afraid of him y'know...from past uh...events.

I hope this is what you meant or enjoyed. We are freaky in this house. Should I do the side characters now?🤔

[francisofthespook]

A/N: if you say my little 3am rant, no you didnt. But heres a little one shot thing i wrote last night when i couldnt sleep. I literally wrote this on my phone in my tumblr drafts at 5am and barely edited it so just bear with me okay... This so so stupidly self indulgent idk if this will even interest anyone, but writing it made me feel a little better :'') Would this count as hurt/comfort ? Idk

AUDaryl Dixon x F!Reader

Word count: 1928

Warnings: None fr, just smoking

Setting: AU where walkers never happened and you are Daryl's Neighbor (This isnt the one I had talked about in the tag game). I imagine this with like season 5 ish Daryl.

I made the border :)

“What are ya doin’?”

Daryl walked up to the waist-high chain link fence that separated your yards, leaning on it. You sighed heavily, avoiding his eyes as you ashed your cigarette on the ground.

“What’s it look like.”

You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the weight of everything that had been plaguing you the past week didn’t leave you any stamina for pleasantries.

“Woah, okay.”

He held up his hands defensively with a small laugh. Neither of you spoke. He was waiting for you to continue, you were waiting for him to leave.

Daryl stared off in the distance at some dead tree in the back corner of your yard. He knew you, knew you would say something eventually. But you didn’t. He was starting to get a little concerned. In all the years he had been your neighbor, your friend, he had never seen you this quiet.

Usually you loved talking shit with him. Telling him about every little inconvenience that happened that day while you smoked your respective cigarettes. Him, drinking in every little thing that you said, and you, talking endlessly for hours until your boyfriend came home and Daryl would quickly hop the fence and retreat into his house.

“(Y/N), what’s goin’ on?”

He said in a more serious tone, trying to mask the concern that was growing within him. His grip slightly tightened on the fence and the wires dug into his palms as they began to sweat, the Georgia sun beating down hard on his exposed shoulders. “Ya know ya can tell me anythin’.”

“Leave me alone.”

You still wouldn’t face him. He could see your body tensing every time you were reminded of his presence. He could tell you were trying to hold it together, purposely hiding as much of yourself as possible from him. It only made his anxiety grow.

Daryl cared about you more than he’d like to admit. When you and your boyfriend first moved into the shitty house next to his even shittier one, he was pissed, already mourning the privacy his tucked away home gave him. But he was wrong.

It couldn’t have been more the opposite. Your boyfriend was gone nearly all the time, and you were taking classes at the local community college so it stayed pretty quiet. But every evening, after you came home, you would sit on your little patio and smoke for a while until your boyfriend came home, (usually at an unreasonable hour, drunk, and stumbling straight to bed).

Over time, yours and Daryl’s ‘smoke breaks’ started to line up. And it totally didn’t have anything to do with Daryl thinking you were pretty and wanting to eye you as he had his evening cigarette.

It started with just you and him on your respective patios, smoking and not acknowledging the other's presence. But one day, you spoke up. You had asked him for a light, and he wordlessly sauntered over to the fence and held the flame to you as you leaned over to light your cigarette. From then, it escalated.

It was almost routine now, that Daryl would be outside already having a smoke when you got home and finally made your way out. Once he saw you, he would walk over and hop the short fence, and you two would sit together while he listened to you talk about your day. He rarely spoke about his own, he much preferred your dramatizations of shitty encounters with your professors, or run-ins with ex-friends. He secretly looked forward to it every day.

But now you were quiet, and that scared him. Quiet was not a word he would use to describe you.

“Seriously (Y/N), what’s wro-“

“Daryl, fuck off!”

You finally turned to face him, and he almost wished you hadn’t. Black streaks ran down your face from the mascara that had run, dried, and then run again. Your eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, your lips slightly swollen from crying so hard.

The sight of you caused an ache in his heart that hurt so deep, that he had to stop himself from instinctively placing his hand on his chest to check that a hole hadn’t been drilled through it. Without hesitation, he hopped the fence and rushed over to you, kneeling in front of you as you covered your face with your hands.

Smoke curled upwards from the still-lit cigarette between your fingers, and a small tuft of ash fell onto your jeans. He wanted to reach out and touch you, place a hand on your knee, and rub small, soothing circles with his thumb, but he knew he shouldn’t. There was an unspoken line between you two that he never dared cross, no matter how badly he yearned to. But for the first time, he seriously considered it.

“Please, jus�� talk to me.”

He pleaded, his brows furrowed with worry as he looked up at your still hidden face. His hand flinched, he wanted nothing more than to pull you into a tight hug and tell you everything would be okay. He would burn down the whole world for you if he thought it’d make you feel better.

“It’s stupid.”

You said, your hands muffling the words to where he almost couldn’t make out what you were saying.

“It obviously ain’t that stupid if it’s upset ya this badly.”

He spoke in the most gentle voice he could muster.

You slowly brought your hands down, dropping the cigarette onto the concrete and putting it out with your shoe. You still didn’t lift your head, still couldn’t bear to make eye contact with him. You were ashamed of your state, wondering why you even came out here in the first place, knowing he would be out here too.

“Please, yer freakin’ me out”

His voice slightly cracked, and it made your already broken heart crack even more. Daryl was your best friend, kinda your only friend. But you didn’t feel like talking. The hurt you felt encapsulated your entire soul, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to put into words the pain you felt right now, didn’t even want to try.

Slowly, cautiously, you tilted your head up, making eye contact with him for the first time today. The worry that painted his face made you ache. You felt like you didn’t deserve his worry, that he didn’t deserve to have his emotions negatively altered by you. You already felt like such a burden to everyone around you, Daryl was the last person you’d ever want to add to that list. He deserved to be happy, not on his knees in a dither about you.

“I really don’t want to talk about it.” You mumbled.

Daryl knew that whatever it was that had caused you this much turmoil must have been bad. And as much as he wanted you to divulge every little detail so that he knew who or what to take it up with, he respected your boundaries and nodded.

“Tha’s ok. But please, jus’ let me be here fer ya.”

You stared into his deep blue eyes, your own glassing up again, and nodded.

“Okay.”

He gently patted your knee twice, a safe contact, before standing up and dragging a chair close to yours. Pulling his pack from his chest pocket, he brought a cigarette to his mouth and motioned for you to pass him the lighter.

You flicked the metal wheel and held the flame over to him, cupping it so that it wouldn’t go out. He took a deep breath in as the end of the stick cherried, and leaned back in his chair.

“Went to the shop today to get those brake pads I ordered, they were s’possed to be ready today. I get in there and the damn fool at the counter told me they’d been back ordered fer another month!”

You looked over, slightly surprised to hear Daryl talking as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t just seen you at your lowest state. He stared off at the tree line as he continued.

“Then, when I’m on my way home, I get pulled over fer not ‘stoppin’ all the way’ at a stop sign”

His smoke brushed past you as he raised his hand to make air quotes. You realized, that he was trying to distract you by sharing details about his day. You could feel the warmth in your heart ever so slightly starting to fuse just the tiniest cracks.

You held your hand up to cover your mouth as you bit back the smallest laugh.

He grunted, “An’ then I get home and see that Dog took a big ol’ shit on the couch.”

He rolled his eyes and laughed. As much as he normally disliked talking about himself, he would do it until the sun burnt out just to see the small smile that was starting to form on your face.

He went on for a little while, talking about everything from his favorite shirt ripping last week, to the time he and Merle supposedly saw a ‘chupacabra’.

By the time you heard the car pull into the driveway, you had almost forgotten about your own shitty day. Almost.

Daryl took the sound of your garage opening as his cue to head home. He stood up and stretched a little before turning to start walking back.

“Daryl-“

You called out before he reached the fence. He turned his head to look over at you.

“Thank you.”

He gave you a smile smile and a nod before saying, “Anytime. Hate seein’ ya so upset.”

The sun had long set, and you hoped that your dim porch light was dull enough to conceal the blush on your cheeks.

“See you tomorrow?”

You asked, a small part of you worried that he wouldn’t want to hang out with you anymore after seeing how pathetic you were today.

“‘Course”

He gave you one last smile before grabbing the fence and hoisting himself over it. You stood up as you heard the garage door open and close as your boyfriend made his way through the house.

Later that night, as you lay in bed, you thought about what it would be like if Daryl were lying next to you instead of this cold man who barely even spoke to you anymore. You thought about what it would feel like to be held again as you fell asleep, something long disregarded with your current partner.

You felt a small ache for a version of yourself that was living next door with Daryl. Cooking breakfast for him while wearing only his shirt, curling up on the couch with him in the evenings as you watched some dumb rom-com, riding on the back of his bike as he swerved through Atlanta streets late at night.

You were jealous of that version of you, the one that said ‘fuck it’ to everything shitty in her life and exchanging it for a better one, with him.

But you weren’t that girl. You weren’t strong enough to do what it takes to be her yet. But the hope that maybe one day, you could be, was what finally helped you drift off to sleep that night. And maybe if you had known that just a few yards away, Daryl was dreaming about the same thing, it would have given you the confidence you needed to become that girl.

But for tonight, you laid an arms length away from a man you barely recognized anymore and hoped that tomorrow would be better.

lmk what yall think, love you guys <3333

[obsolete-stars-if]

There are so many things I do instead of writing on my own game. And one of it includes NSFW FF for @pressplay-if

BCS I haven't bitten you today yet. (Yes it's shortly past midnight, get over it, I'm at work and I'm having so many thinkerings about Lincoln.)

Written with m Lin and TM MC in mind. I will only ever write TM MC. You can't stop me.

This is smut, so I will moderate heavily on it. Also mention of self harm scars.

Lincoln makes an audible "oof" as he falls onto the mattress, and your body follows him on top. Well, technically he has been pulling you with him onto the mattress, not that you're too annoyed by it, but landing on his stomach wasn't as soft as the TV Shows and movies always made it out to be.

You pull yourself up into a sitting position, your hair cascading down, he watches it intently. Both hands are placed on the mattress next to him. "Now what?" You ask.

It's not that you didn't have a handful of extremely awkward sexual encounters before, or that you had never thought of being on top of another person. There tends to be one really important logistical error on those fantasies. You're honestly lazy and sex has never been a motivator on your end.

"Do whatever you want to me." Lincoln answers, his words hasty, as his hands reach your legs, slowly caressing them, until they stop at your hips. His eyes flicker down to his hands and then back up.

You cock your head, looking over his face. Sure, he seems to be happy with whatever you will do. You could ask him to flip you over and go crazy until he's satisfied. You could probably slap his face and he'd thank you for it. It's not that you don't care which one, but both ends sound fine to you. "I do really well with instructions, Lin."

"O-oh." He looks away, for a moment, flushing cheeks, he turns back to you, rather determined, he gives you an instruction. "Hurt me."

"Okay, I can do that." You finally lean back and shift your entire weight on his hips. If Lin had been older, you wouldn't do that, but you can make him sore without much moving. He wants to be hurt? He picked a great person to do that.

His fingers hold onto your hip, biting his lip for just a moment- He thinks you're going to chicken out. You give him a smile and reach for the hem of your T Shirt, it's enough to keep him entertained, while you take a look around his bedroom.

"You're rich." You finally remark. His fingers glide to join yours, but as they touch you scratch him, a gasp escapes him and he retreats his hands to your hip. "You could have anyone, really. It's not like anyone would say no. Not with the amount of money you have."

Lin answers quickly, "I don't want anyone, I want-"

"Me." You interrupt him. "You want me. You want someone who hurts you, defies you, takes away. And I know why it has to be me." You take your time taking your shirt off. It doesn't have to be sexy, or hot. He wants you, for what you are. You let him look you up and down. His eyes are halting first at your chest, you have forgotten how intimidating the mastectomy scars can look to someone who hasn't seen them before. His eyes widen and it slowly clicks in his brain. Instinctually, his eyes wander to your crotch, you know the kind of questions he has.

You answer none, instead you let your hands travel below his shirt as you carefully rock back and forth. It takes a moment, a good moment where his eyes flutter shut, and you can hear him suppress a moan in the back of his throat. But eventually he lays eyes on your hands, and subsequently, your wrists.

"There is a pain inside you, that no one was able to take care of. And it resonates with the pain I sing about." You hum some lyric before continuing, "Maybe you're jealous, or just a coward."

You brace yourself when suddenly his hips roll against yours. There goes your pretty speech, you were so ready to degrade him for connecting to your music while having none of your struggles. You're sure if you talk now, moans and stutters would escape you. You suddenly feel much more aware of yourself, grinding against him, technically being the least clothed person in the room. And how hot your face is getting.

A shaky breath escapes you as you push your hair behind your ear. You then dig your nails into his side, trying to find steady ground in him, but Lincoln offers none. "Fuck you," you breathe, "I was going to- ah-" you bite your tongue to keep yourself quiet.

Your muscles feel tight, like they are begging to be fed, and they only desire one thing. You want to give into it, as he pulls and pushes your hips against his. "Call you pathetic." You try to breathe, "For wanting me." There is an urge inside you to crawl inside him, to enjoy the warmth of his body. You claw at his stomach. Your fingernails are digging into the skin before quickly pulling them across his skin, leaving deep red marks on him.

He lets out a shaky moan, and it feeds the need inside you. Lin is so stupid for making you need him, want him, for filling the emptiness inside of you, and a part of you wants to strangle him. Instead you both stop at the sound of your hand connecting to his cheek. A red spot forms on his face and you reach out, wide eyed, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that and-"

"Do that again."

You blink, voice quieter now, "What?"

He lets out another shaky breath before finding your line of sight, "Hit me again." You open your mouth to answer and close it shut again. You had partners who liked being scratched and bitten- but hit? "That's an instruction." He adds.

"Okay." You nod, but first your hand cups his face, your fingers caressing the red spot. You make sure to hit the spot again, the red deepening quickly, a few times more and you're sure it'll bruise. You watch as Lincolns chest rises quickly, his head pushed into the mattress. And it finally clicks for you. Hurt him.

"You're getting off on this." You say, sounding a bit too excited, "You really meant it. To hurt you. Physically." You grasp his hand and pull it closer to your face, "You're going to let me do anything."

He nods eagerly, "Anything, really- Just hurt me." You grin not unlike a child, toothy and way too wide. You bring his wrist to your mouth and bite down.

Lincolns gasp and cry of pain fills your insides. You hold eye contact until he bleeds, and then you lick it up from his arm. Something carnal has been awakened, and you find yourself bitting, hitting, grinding, scratching, whatever you can do. His body is like one of those dolls you used to have, all easy to push around, manipulate, and destroy.

You wouldn't kill him, no. You're not that unhinged. But he opened up an opportunity you hadn't before in sex, to do what you want, to let your instincts and impulses take over. You don't even need to think. All you need is to take him, consume him, hurt him. And you have an appetite.

[lizzybeeee]

DATV explaining the 'Regret Prison'

A REGRET PRISON IS STUPID AND I'M TIRED OF PRETENDING THAT ITS NOT

TL;DR: a prison can serve as a metaphor but it shouldn't be entirely comprised of a metaphor.

From what I understood from what the game gave us: Solas has made a new prison to move the God's too - since bringing down the veil would free them from the Black City. This new prison is separate(?) from the fade or so far removed/contained that bringing down the veil would not compromise it...apparently. We interrupt his ritual, Solas gets sucked into the new prison he made, and the elven gods are free.

When Rook gets kicked into the fade they're physically there - which means it's a physical place in the fade, like how it was a mixture of physical/thought when we entered it in DAI. Which makes sense - the gods are real and living beings, they need to be in a place, there must be some aspect of physicality to it.

Alright, cool, it's a Black City 2.0 - I assume it's better defended to prevent people breaking in/out again?

NOPE.

We get there and it's a 'regret prison'?? It's tied to the regrets of those within it? Composed of regrets??? Solas had to wait for the right moment for Rook to be sufficiently 'full of regret' that they could switch places?

So is the prison tied to Solas's regrets? If so, how can Rook escape? The prison seems to work around the idea that it relies on the regrets of the person it's holding to work - which is how/why Rook was able to be trapped and later free themselves (along with whatever remains of the team apparently being able to do something on their end, not that we hear about it).

WHICH IS STUPID!

Are you telling me the prison intended to hold to megalomaniac elven gods was going to imprison them based on their own regrets? Is Solas assuming that Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain are as self-pitying as he is? They'd break out quicker than Rook did! He made a time out corner for the elven gods to sit in and gave them an out if they reflected on their emotions/regrets or decided that they don't regret what they did. Elgar'nan, a spirit of tyranny, is not going to 'regret' his actions - he is going to justify them by telling himself and others that he knows what's best.

We can come across some of Solas's regrets in the prison if you run around a bit and explore:

Remnant of Failure - talking about the orb from Inquisition.

Remnant of Parting - talking about Mythal

Remnant of Reflection - more vague, talking about the Titans I believe.

So maybe he altered it - maybe he intended the prison to be 'locked' with his own regrets because after a millennia of having a pity party he still can't bring himself to self-reflect and look to the future. But what if Solas died? Or if his guilt lessened - would it diminish the strength of the regret prison?

We already have pre-established lore (though DATV has shown they don't really give a crap tbh) that once the being that has claimed/altered an area of the fade is slain, it's influence diminishes both in and outside of the fade. So if the prison was tied to his regrets then it would require Solas to basically live forever to keep it stable - especially if he brought down the veil and removed the one barrier that kept the world and the fade apart.

Rook and Solas needed some assistance to exit - but it doesn't seem like it was much! Solas used his dagger and Rook just...got out through a fade tear? This is Solas's 'more secure' second prison? It has a worse track record than the Black City! If Rook - who is not an elven god - managed to escape the regret prison what is to stop anyone else from breaking in and out of the prison?

And what did Solas intend to do with the blight - the bulk of which is apparently in the black city?? If bringing down the Veil would free the gods in the black city doesn't that mean that the blight would also be released?! Did he have a plan? Why does he go fully ahead with bringing down the veil at the end if the black city is still there and filled with blight?!

I get it: the 'regret prison' is a metaphor for how Solas holds onto the past and how Rook can move past their regrets and grow. He's trapped by the past - it's a prison. Cool. But this prison is supposed to by a physical place to contain the gods - not just to solely contain Solas. The mission is literally called 'A Cage for Gods'.

The Black City is an actual place that's so far out of reach of anywhere else in the fade that no mage can ever reach it while in dreams - let alone physically, which was only done once and took tremendous effort/blood sacrifices. It made sense - it was cool to see floating in the sky in DAO!

Though it's not said specifically, it's strongly implied that Arlathan is the Black City. You can see in the concept art that floating elven city is exactly the same as the black city in DAO! It's this foreboding thing just lurking in the sky - a constant reminder of the sin that led to the horrors of the blights and darkspawn. A real place with lore and history that also serves as a metaphor for the hubris and destruction of those who call themselves gods and act as tyrants -> for both the evanuris and the magisters.

I WANT TO UNDERSTAND THIS BIOWARE!

WHAT IS THIS KINGDOM HEARTS NONSENSE???!!

[thegoldencontracts]

Every single time someone makes Azul out to be a pathetic easily bullied guy with no ability to defend himself whatsoever an angel loses its wings falls to the ground and fucking dies.

Please remember, Azul's overblot was the exception, not the norm. He's not a pathetic little crybaby. The thing about this portrayal is that it does insinuate the idea that someone is weak and "pathetic" for having a breakdown when it's this widespread, clearly genuinely belief that a character is pathetic as evidenced by one breakdown.

Same goes for Riddle. Yes, he had a breakdown during his overblot, but with both him and Azul, that was an exception, not the norm. There are plenty of scenes where they've both shown themselves to be smug and powerful characters.

Heck, even during Azul's breakdown, he did end up displaying his true power by sucking that literal magic and talent out of all the students nearby. Leona literally stated that his Unique Magic was forbidden. Riddle was known as the Crimson Tyrant because of the way he treated others. Azul isn't going to cry every time someone insults him, case in point, the way he behaves with Jamil, who makes a habit out of it. He doesn't run off feeling hollow after every interaction, because, well, he keeps coming back! And his enthusiasm is never hankered!

Even when dealing with physically stronger individuals, like Floyd (and most twst characters let's face it most of the cast has six packs), Riddle is never afraid. It was once mentioned that he effortlessly overpowered Floyd during the opening ceremony in Beans Day. With his magic, he's not weak, and he's certainly not helpless.

Obviously, while you can write whatever you want, I just want to explain why I believe that characterization is inaccurate. I love writing fics myself, and I (a long with most fic writers I've asked) prefer writing things that seem like they could reasonably happen with the characters and/or au in question.

[emberglowfox]

i kind of knew in theory that all my hobbies involved my hands but i kind of just ignored it n was like oh well im sure id manage

top ten pics taken seconds before disaster

[imminent-danger-came]

I really am so sad I don't like isat. The themeing was very good

[hanzajesthanza]

allowed myself the time to spend to write a scene because the fancy took me, ended up destroying my sleep schedule to write it, woke up at 4 pm just to realize it’s not good and i would need to redo it

[magic-is-something-we-create]

Playlist Title tag!

thank you to @sleepyowlwrites for creating this fun funky game and tagging me in the origin post <3 im about to show my whole unedited ass in these generic titles

rules: make a poll to see which of your playlist titles is the coolest to your followers and tag some friends

ill tag @vacantgodling, @writeblrfantasy, @authoralexharvey, @birlwrites, and @nacricissa <3

as always, absolutely 0 pressure to play, and feel free to treat this as an open tag if you want to join in!

[miodiodavinci]

laying down by a brook with one hand in the water like some kind of tragic prince , , , , , ,

[desertdragon]

This shit is so ass I just want it to be over

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 11: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should curiously socialize with a few of the boat travelers ...

~

"The Adventurer grabs one of the ornate glass bowls near the buffet table, meekly gathering some cheese and vegetables as he scans the crowd. For the first 15 minutes of the lunch, he mostly crouches in a corner seat, nibbling on his food and nervously fielding the occasional drunken question from a passing party guest..

Knowing he should.. probably... actually socialize at some point, he begrudgingly chooses conversational partners, squeezing his eyes shut and pointing around randomly until he lands on someone.....

The first is a scrawny man in a flashy suit, wobbly from wine but still keeping a vaguely charming demeanor about him. He proudly introduces himself as a "legal expert", then goes on to ramble for a while about the laws in the area, how drastically they vary from city to city (plus a few veiled hints on how to safely break them), and that if you travel a lot it can be hard to keep up with it all.

He mentions, quite conveniently, that he's recently published a book on the topic, a legal guide for local explorers, and offers to give The Adventurer a copy for a special discounted price... but... then soon recalls that the crate of books he'd planned to sell on the boat sadly ended up falling into the river earlier during a "silly little mishap"..

In place of a book, he simply slides The Adventurer a glossy mint colored paper swirled with golden floral motifs, supposedly serving as some sort of business card, though the actual contact information seems obscured beneath the cluttered design. The Lawyer also pulls off his scarf as he rises to leave, wrapping it around The Adventurer's shoulders with a little waving flourish (not the first time someone has confused his anxious shaking for cold shivers). The Adventurer stutters out a confused thank you, then watches as the Lawyer stumbles off, mumbling to himself that he's been drinking too much and "truly must find somewhere to piss"......

The second person he approaches is an older woman, hunched over a table fidgeting with a handful of colorful glass dice, spinning and stacking and arranging them into patterns whilst her thoughts drift elsewhere. Initially, she gives evasive answers when asked personal questions, but soon grows more talkative once the topic of local flora and fauna arises. She apparently used to adventure as well, roaming the lands to document various elements of nature relevant to her mysterious "private research" - though, at her age, she's now resigned to casual boat rides rather than riskily hiking alone through uncharted wilderness. Gently laying a worn leather journal of watercolor paintings out onto the tabletop, she points at various berries, leaves, and animals, eagerly describing their significance...

After chatting for a while, she abruptly changes topics, mentioning that sometimes she can "sense things which she should not" (whatever the hell that means), then asks him to pick one of her dice. He hesitates, but she just stares, refusing to elaborate further.. Finding even 30 seconds of awkward silent eye contact physically impossible to bear, he hurriedly plops a finger down in front of an iridescent yellow die. She chuckles..

Scooping up all of the dice from the table, she rattles them in her clasped hands, then brings them up to her ear as if to listen... to something?? A few moments later, she turns back to him, speaking in a raspy whisper: "There are others, melding your footprints with their own, seeking a gift you do not yet know - this is what I see."

Before he can ask her for any elaboration, the Captain returns, grumbling that The Adventurer has already stayed 5 minutes past the time limit and swatting at him with a broom to shoo him off of the boat. Apparently an hour can go by fast....

After climbing back into his dinky raft, he sails mostly successfully down the river, finally making it to a point that, at least based on his map, SHOULD be where the main road picks back up past the detour. He crashes into a small grouping of rocks whilst trying to navigate back to the shore, but he was planning on disassembling the raft to get his rope and supplies back anyway, so.. aside from a scraped knee and possibly broken pinky toe, he decides it's actually fine. The cat is okay, which is all that really matters, anyhow.

By the time he's taken apart his boat, eaten a quick meal, and bandaged his leg, the sun seems to have nearly set. It's later in the night than he'd usually like to travel, but, where he's going is a pretty commonly used road, so maybe it's safe? He's exhausted from socializing, but could probably muster enough energy to walk for at least a while. Or perhaps he should just call it a night and find a place to sleep.. But.. where??? What should he do?

-

Additional information

acquired a long, warm, expensive scarf

acquired slightly increased knowledge of local plants

acquired vague information from the 'dice based fortune teller', or whatever that was meant to be

acquired a business card (+ ability to get away with one minor crime free of legal consequence)

acquired mild nausea for the next 5hrs from weird buffet cheese

acquired badly scraped knee and sprained toe (will walk slightly slower for the next 2 days)

the adventurer's current main goal: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

your superhero AU has broken my heart 💔💔💔 protective Ted is so important to me

thank you!! ive been enjoying playing with it. and yeah!! like. i just. protective, pining ted and trent's like i am NOT a damsel!! (<- in this instance, is, in fact, a damsel. he will make an exception for one (1) person)

and like more seriously just. the trust it's about the trust!!! trent doesn't rely on anyone and he gets himself out of bad situations and he's lowkey terrified of this hero who's got him cornered and he's been in this horrible situation for so long but then it's ted and he immediately relaxes. and ted--you know ted realized they had trent and immediately panicked and was ready to just bust in there and it was only beard holding him back and making him be practical about it that didnt have him just bursting through the walls ten minutes after realizing. and him realizing trent trusts him.... holding him and being like oh. i can protect him this way and i can comfort him this way and it's working... augh

anyway im glad you like it 😩

[rainbowtvz]

the time will pass anyway. the time will pass anyway. the time will pass anyway

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.