#i should probably make a sideblog centered on these things

[normystical]

this shit but it stays with you 'til you're like 18

[littlest-bugz]

intro post

welcome to my blog!!!

My name is BUGZ! I'm a bodily 22 y/o multiply disabled, queer DID sys! My pronouns are they/he, and I prefer masculine or neutral terms :]

This blog serves as my main hub for everything I like and do- art, memes, fandom stuff and more! This blog is really a collection of a bunch of random posts, and for that reason, it's really cluttered! I also will post about DID and CDD adjacent posts!!!

get to know me more below the cut!

[byf also below cut]

before you follow. . .

Our account may not be fully SFW, but we never reblog or post pornographic material! I have a bad swearing problem, struggle with """adult""" issues [such as addiction], and due to my trauma, I have a hard time telling what is socially acceptable in regards for entirely being SFW. It's something I'm working on actively! The most explicit posts you will see are likely surrounding drugs and addiction. I prefer minors do not follow me, but liking and reblogging is okay!

I do not engage in any sort of discourse. I seriously cannot be bothered, and a lot of discourse is chronically online anyways [sorry, not sorry]. If you really need labels to feel comfortable, I am anti-misinfo and anti-harassment. Anyone is allowed on my blog as long as you don't promote misinfo, harass others, partake in ANY form of bigotry, and are not a gross person [subjective to me].

Following that; I block very liberally! This is the reason I removed my DNI, actually. If I notice you're partaking in spreading misinfo, bigotry, spam me, or anything I just don't like, you go straight to the block chamber! I curate my space for me! Not to mention my old DNI didn't work entirely anyways.

BPD/NPD/HPD/ASPD havers are all welcome on our blog! If u believe in [any disorder] abuse, leave!!

WE ARE PRO-EDUCATED SELF DIAGNOSIS!!!

about us !

As I stated before, I'm a DID haver! This means I’m a system :] I state this pretty openly due to the fact it affects every aspect of my daily life- even my posting! PLUS I talk about my system a decent amount.

On top of that, I also have OCD, Social Anxiety, AvPD, OCPD, Autism and ADHD! A total mouthful, but you'll see posts centered around these experiences (hence why they’re listed)!

I also have a physical disability, and I complain about it often.

You can find our frequent fronters on pronouns.cc !! [link]

In terms of my queer Identity. . . I identify as transmasc, bigender, panalterous, omni oriented aroaceflux, and ambiamorous! This is an agreed upon identity the entirety of The Crew and Co. and is essentially for the body itself! Most of the time, I just say I’m queer! Names, pronouns, genders and sexualities all vary from alter to alter individually, but that’s our collective self.

On our page, you will find. . .

Lots of reblogs on random topics and hyperfixations

Fandom content! Mostly frum Inscryption and Ghost [the band]

SOME political content [your warning]

Mental Health Content [mostly text posts and memes]

Rambling and Yapping

Cat and Bunny posts

Web weaves

Userboxes and Flags

. . . and a ton more!

i have sideblogs!

Wow, I never had thought I would have more than one blog, but I DO. AND IT'S MORE THAN JUST TWO..... Here they are!! :

@sum-silly-bugz -We make Weirdcore and Dreamcore edits!! you can find all of those here

@into-the-bugverse - Writing and Original Character blog! While I reblog my art to this account, this is where it's posted first!!

. . . and probably more to come!

tags!

#important - important posts to us! [a heavily neglected tag]

#fresh from the insectoids - my original, non-yapping posts,,, may not be very original tho LOL

#the bugz speak- my ramblings on stuff going on my life- can range from goofy things to long and drawn out talking in circles.

#reblog time - My reblog tag!! Everything that gets reblogged should be under this, but I don't always remember.

#you asked we answered - My ask tag! Feel free to send in asks at any time

#original userboxes/layouts/flags/ect - All of our original content divided into specifics! [ note: they are not all lumped together like that, just putting them all together for the sake of space, you can find most of them tagged in this post ]

#system posting - Our experiences on system hood as well as reblogs and other stuff! Was formerly 'system stuff', and I am notorious for not using this tag

#lps posting - I am/was an avid lps collector!! I reblog fanart and post original content [sometimes,,, but usually text posts]

#ghost posting - HUUUUGE fan of Ghost [the band]. I reblog content on it frum time to time!!

#inscryption posting - Main fandom I'm in!! I love this silly game to the point I'd call it a Special Interest at this point [it's been years of being obsessed with it, lords help me]

#cat posting - I reblog a lot of cat pictures and art!! cats r a huge comfort for me

#bunny posting - Same reasoning as cats tbh!!

#writer posting - where I post all the writing content, such as memes and text posts,,, mainly memes, but also resources and ect

#art posting - where I put all the art text posts, especially memes, but also just general art we make

#vent posting - vent posts- block this tag if you aren't interested in seeing my vents!

#the hoard - I hoard and collect deco. If the links don't work for some reason, just click this tag

#sorry for yearning on main - sorry for yearning on main

more tba . . .

links!

deco collection - A hoard of all our deco, which includes stamps, blinkies and userboxes!! WARNING; FLASHING IMAGES, BRIGHT COLORS, AND MORE! PROCEED WITH CAUTION

pronouns.cc - has all of the alters that want to be public for our tumblr specifically. There are less on our website than here, so if you want to know everyone, go here!!

our website - has our frequent fronters, digital diary, art and comms, and more! It is still a WIP but it's to a point where I am comfortable sharing :]

art comms website - two of our hosts are artists and take comms- this is their site! comms are currently open, alwyas including these funky chibi heads

my ko-fi - consider donating to the cause of... me! I'm multiply disabled. If you like any of my original content and feel inclined to, drop a dollar or two here!

[loretrip]

Finally making a pinned post, since it seems to be a standard these days. I'll likely edit this later, though.

So, hey, I'm Lore [I also go by Loki, like the Norse god, though I don't mind the Marvel knockoff either; I have my own personal reasons for using this name]. I'm 33 years old, and live in the hellscape that is the US [for now].

I'm genderqueer [though don't mind being called or calling myself nonbinary - I do heavily prefer genderqueer however], transmasc [they/he, please] and genderflux [all of my genders flux into masculine of center ones, so masc terms are preferred]. I've also been on T for about a year now, so be aware I may occasionally post NSFW stuff (though I do tag it as NSFW) because well. T does that to a MF, lol. If you're interested to learn about all of my various labels+microlabels [yes we stan microlabels in this house, deal with it lol], heres my page:

I'm also mixed race - part Puerto Rican, part Caucasian, and I have ancestry from both the Taino and Cherokee tribes that I'm quite proud of [one of my many claimed labels is Two Spirit], along with an amalgamation of other things. I don't have a white last name, either, so I feel its fair enough to consider myself as not entirely white.

I am happily taken by my partner, @anarchicraven (they/them). We're monogamous, too. You'll probably see me tagging them frequently, though they're a Reddit refugee and don't use Tumblr often.

I'm also disabled - I have fibromyalgia and a back injury from a wreck I was in. I'm also autistic [late diagnosed] with ADHD. I consider myself neurodivergent and a spoonie for those reasons among others, and yes, you'll see a lot of neurodivergent content here because of that, though I do my best to put most of it on my sideblog [infinityndenby] because being late diagnosed means I'm down a rabbithole learning all I can, lol.

I'm a Tumblr Old - I've been on this Big Blue Hellsite TM since my preteens, though under various different names. So you're probably gonna see me reference that sometimes too.

I have a few sideblogs you may also see me reblog from, spooniesimple and infinityndenby being the main of them.

I have a variety of interests you'll see here, but one of the main ones you'll see most frequently are various Bethesda games' content, especially Fallout and TES.

Sometimes you'll see me reblog various creative writing tips because I dabble on occasion into writing fanfic [rarely], and I am heavily into roleplaying inside of the aforementioned games and do a lot of writing because of that. I do on occasion reblog art or writing I think is nifty, as well - I'd say I'm a huge creative type.

I'm also into psychology, biology, nature and its conservation, animals [especially wolves - I have a tag specifically for wolves if you're curious: #wolfposting], science of just about all types [though quantum mechanics is a huge favorite of mine]. I am an anarchist, currently undetermined what type [its still a very new discovery for me] - though I lean heavily into queer anarchism currently, so because of that I do also reblog a fair amount of political content that I try [and sometimes forget due to brain fog+ADHD wombo combo] to tag, as well as a lot of posts about queer and trans rights. That should give you a fair idea of the type of content you'll see on here, though it definitely doesn't cover all of it.

This is [obviously, duh] a trans and LGBTQ+ safe space. TERFs+radfems fuck off, you'll be blocked on site. This is also a safe space for other disabled+neurodivergent folks. Nice to meet ya'll. 👋

[katsdynam1ght]

worst part about autism is actually the fact that i somehow cannot ever remember that you guys aren’t in my head and don’t understand all of the layers of reasoning i have happen before i come to a conclusion or start talking about something. it’s like my brain assumes i’m part of a hive mind or something. like—

you hear me talking about point Z and somehow you don’t know about points A-Y even though i already thought about them and so you should obviously know too?? what do you mean you don’t understand where i’m coming from. haven’t you heard any of this. it all makes perfect sense i already connected the dots for you why can’t you see the clear lines i’ve drawn?

and no matter how many times i rationalize this and remind myself ok, kats, people are operating with an entirely different psyche and perception of things… it just does not click. i cannot make it click. i forget every single time and i get so frustrated until someone reminds me that we are not, in fact, sharing the same brain space and just because i’ve connected something doesn’t mean you have, too.

and it’s not a case of like… thinking other people don’t have thoughts? i know all of those things logically, but for whatever reason i genuinely just default to the assumption that my thought process is the baseline and so we are all operating with that baseline. and every time i am proven wrong.

i did a whole bunch of research on the history of autism for a project this past semester and one of the early quotes that stuck with me was something about how autism is (paraphrasing) “a disorder of profound aloneness” and this “obsession with the self” (hence the auto-) that exists in autism. and at first i was like hmm… unsure…

but i really do think i get it. it’s not a belief that my way is at all better or worse than someone else’s, and it’s not so much feeling like i am at the center of anything, it’s just that i genuinely forget i am not the average. i am not the baseline. i am not the default. if you ask me i think it comes from that sort of assumption—that i’m nothing special, therefore i must be the default, therefore any suggestion that i am Not the default just. does not compute properly. i don’t know, man.

anyway i’m putting this on my mha sideblog because i know a lot of people following me/interacting with my posts are neurodivergent and i want to gauge if this is an experience other autistic people share. and if i spend enough time thinking about it i’m sure i could relate this to one of the characters (katsuki, probably).

[moidicidal]

hi i’m ava ✡️ 👑🌤 this is my un-crypto sideblog. i’m bisexual, i like anime, cooking and exercise a sane, average amount. late diagnosed autistic (normal about it). may make english mistakes. it’s because i do not care about speaking it correctly. lol.

also- this is a SIDE BLOG. no my entire internet presence is not focused on this stuff, this is just where i put receipts/arguments/posts i want to save/stuff that would get me doxxed on main blog.

my stances:

general feminism:

- anti porn, anti sex trade. i am a sex trade exploitation survivor (camming, among other things starting as a minor)

- anti beauty culture. anti shaving. anti makeup (working on breaking my addiction). pro sunscreen.

- pro women getting strong as possible through physical exercise 💪

- pro female separatism but not one myself (sadly.)

- we need more domestic violence and rape shelters as well as women specific homeless shelters, and hospital wards. especially in peripheral/semi peripheral countries.

- misandry does not mean anything to me. or anyone with intelligence

- more support and attention paid to women with drug addictions. we are often experiencing homelessness, sex trafficking or exploitation, abuse, femicide and cop abuse or prison time

- still learning more about feminism and loving the ride.

trans stuff:

- first i have listened to transwomen. i’ve dated them. i have been raped by them. i have been hit and called names and harassed by them. and i’ve fucking had enough of being told to listen to them when their community swept mine and other women’s abuse under the carpet and has NEVER listened to us. so don’t fucking tell me to listen to transwomen 💜

- adult human female (sex that has the potential to create large gametes) = woman and vice versa with males obviously.

- men out of women’s spaces. all of them. by force if necessary.

- LGB/T. trans people are included if they are SSA. and acknowledge sex as a real, unchanging reality.

- idk how i feel about transition. probably fine over 18 and mentally healthy. recognizing your sex can’t change is part of being mentally healthy BTW

- i support third spaces for transgender people (like prisons, bathrooms, changing rooms, ect.)

politics aside from feminism:

- i am a marxist leninist. i am not interested in debating this. capitalism is a women’s rights issue. i ❤️ dialectal materialism.

- anti racism, pro centering black and indigenous women. pro centering women from the global south.

- FREE PALESTINE, CEASEFIRE NOW 🇵🇸 *and* anti jew hate, it will be called out when seen. nazi comparisons get blocked. there’s other nationalist groups more similar, you know that. basically be a compassionate, empathetic person.

- ableism is a serious issue, disabled women should be able to share their experiences more freely.

- more to add when i think of it lol

[marmot-bee-person]

hello!

I’ve done a couple of reblogs, but this is my first post proper. So hello.

About me!

I am obsessed (OBSESSED) with ATLA. Sometimes I am obsessed (OBSESSED) with other shows or books or whatever, but right now I’m obsessed (OBSESSED) with ATLA. This blog will definitely show what I’m obsessed with at any given moment.

Edit 2/16: I’m still obsessed with ATLA but Ducktales 2017 was my hyperfixation a couple years ago and that has now resurfaced

Edit 3/4: more about me!

I mention in the blog description that I have ADHD and social anxiety, am aroace (at least that’s how I identify now but who knows), and I’m a minor (for those of you with DNI about that). I also may be autistic (more information available within the next decade probably) but I really don’t know about that one. Pronouns are she/her (despite the whole thing of my sexuality and romanticism, I am very very cis). Hyperfixations are cartoons (DT, ATLA, sometimes Gravity Falls), UK history (currently dormant), sometimes linguistics (this has never been my ONLY hyperfixation but it will probably get there) and genetics and multiple births (also currently dormant). I write a lot, of… varying quality. I think my fics are better than my original writing but idk. I’m also a shameless theatre kid and love performing (even though it also gives me social anxiety, but it’s fiiiiiiine).

Please call me Marmot! (Edit 3/22: if you’re coming here after i made this edit then you should know that Mushy was my older nickname from when I was @mushy-giant-friends-for-life, i have now switched to Marmot lol) (i don’t really care which one is used… how bout both ig)

Edit 3/25 (i need to make a new post but oh well)

So I’d like to clarify that I hate JKR but I’m not going to stop posting about Harry Potter because of her. She can go screw herself for all I care. But I also refuse to let her ruin Harry Potter for me because yes, it’s not a perfect series and has plenty of shortcomings, but it’s also the center of a lot of my happiest memories, so…

To be clear: trans people are valid. jkr can go screw herself. marmot likes the harry potter books. got it?

edit 3/26 (seriously, new post gah) i blocked anon asks for selfish reasons, which are that i dislike not knowing who’s sending asks.

edit 4/7: my sideblogs are @keyboardsmashandkittycat (for cats) and @marmotmaidofnorway (for history)

edit 4/12: nvm, anon asks are on again

edit 6/2: COMIC SIDEBLOG IS @marmotcomics

[the-whispers-of-death]

i feel like i should preface this with: these arent fandom ocs. theyre in their own universe thats 100% made up

uhh. okay hm. so the only 2 with actual personalities and stories. and im now remembering theres probably more than 8 lemme give a small quick summary of. everyone? oh no.

so theres 2 "main" stories in their own respective universes, but one of them is going trough wip and rewrite hell rn.

the ones from said rewrite hell are Typlus/Void (they/it); Vast (he/him); Elly (it/its); Melz (he/him) and Steph/Stephanie (she/they). fun fact it all started as a rewrite of the bible and the impending doom of the planet. or something, i dont even remember anymore. but now theyre just a big family sorta chilling out on their own planet at the physical edge of the universe. its more of a concept than actual ocs, so i have things to draw when i dont know WHAT to draw. nothing is set in stone, nothing is real here. and none of them are human.

and the other is more.. grounded in reality that ive been chipping away at slowly for the past year or so because the characters decided to make my brain into a 5 star hotel

theres elias (he/she/they); dominic (he/him); marcus (he/him); elizabeth (she/her); andrew (he/him) and amelia (she/her)

theres 2 seperate families within this: the jamesons, which includes elias as the son and andrew+amelia as his parents, and the DeAngelo's which is the 3 others, but theyre siblings instead

the only 2 with personalities right now are dominic and elias, who are also in a situationship with eachother, and will probably remain that way for the rest of time

story's basically just "what if the disgraced son of rich parents who happens to be an owner of a bar/club (elias) meets the guy who mans a stand at a farmers market (dominic). and what if they were both t4t. and what if they ended up being workplace lovers/friends w benefits"

elias is lowkey a very unlikeable and bitter guy, very self centered and speaks without thinking. dominic's the reserved type who only speaks when spoken to, but very willing to resort to violence when needed.

does this make sense. i dont know. oh and i counted, theres 11 of them, if we dont count the spin-off AUs as characters. (like when i decided they should be hybrids. or the royalty au. or the mafia au that was actually the origin of all this nonsense)

theres also 2 filler ocs i use whenever i just need a placeholder character for any situation: red and sylvester, but neither of them even got as far as getting designs from me but theyre there

theres. so much content on my main about these idiots that a friend made a sideblog just to sort it in one place. and even after this he hasnt sorted everything lol

.... shit bad news i think i have like 30 ocs actually, i just remembered another batch from ages ago. so. uhm. anyways. and does a made-up species of flower count as an oc. because. yeah. ive got that too.

~ rusty (i get embarrassed when OCposting to others sorry)

I think I need separate asks on both the rewrite hell and the wip stories, because they seem too interesting to be in one ask. They deserve their own separate moment to shine.

I'd love to hear more.

And I'm contemplating adding some of my other OCs (is it still called OC if I made the universe?) in, just because I've been stuck in this limbo of not even finishing a chapter in a book I've started writing and I've had these characters & universe in my head for roughly two years.

[brackets002]

I wanna talk about my homemade Spider-Man universe.

Not that I've been exactly mum about it before now--I've got a whole-ass sideblog for it, @ask-spider-man-61610. But that's an in-character askblog; it filters everything through the often-biased viewpoint of Peter Parker himself. I'm gonna start talking about the project on main, too. Should be easier to engage with readers that way. And I'm gonna start with talking about Peter.

(Art by @sirwolficus.)

This version of Peter Parker was born in 1994. In 2009 he attended a scientific exhibition and was bitten by an experimental, genetically-altered, radioactive spider. And in the years since then he's grown up into probably the best superhero on the planet...but not without stumbling along the way, and not without making a lot of mistakes.

See, you know how most modern adaptations of Spider-Man try to compress basically his entire history into his high school years? Peter here reflects that, in the sense that he went through dozens upon dozens of adventures as a student of Midtown High. Dozens of supervillain encounters. Dozens of desperate fights for his life. Dozens of failures, almost all of which killed someone--sometimes someone he knew. All before the age of eighteen.

Specs--I call this Peter "Specs" because the spider bite didn't fix his eyesight--has a pretty severe case of post-traumatic stress disorder. He's prone to horrible flashbacks and panic attacks. He's hypervigilant, to the point that his spider-sense has grown into a constant, unpleasant alert of even the most minor hazards. He obsesses over his mistakes, his guilt, and his "responsibility." He has nightmares so often that he's afraid to sleep, and routinely stays awake for days on end.

And he's so, so angry.

But he's also smart, and remarkably mature. Uncle Ben died when he was fourteen, and Aunt May's cardiorespiratory illness meant that a full-time job was essentially impossible for her. To help pay for rent and medication, Peter got a paid internship with the Daily Bugle, where he photographed everything from press conferences to breaking news to--yes--himself in action as Spider-Man. And it was through that internship that he came to understand the hold that corporate greed, organized crime, and political agendas have on the world. Spider-Man stopped being a simple crime-fighter and started becoming a tool for weakening that hold.

(Art by @enby-scientist/@scribbling-scientist.)

Peter's been Spider-Man for a little over a decade now. (The "present day" of his universe is permanently a few years behind ours.) In that decade he's grown into a highly competent photojournalist, a detective, a chemical engineer, and an outspoken proponent for social change. His skills in combat and disaster response have become first-rate, as has his understanding of corporate and political corruption.

He doesn't always do the right thing. And very rarely does he respect anyone's authority but his own. But he's helped many, many more people than he's hurt over the years (though he himself struggles to see that), and his efforts have pushed large sections of his world a few steps back from the brink.

The life of a superhero is nightmarish even as an adult, of course. Peter still winds up half-dead and scared out of his mind on a regular basis. People still die if he isn't fast or strong enough to save them. And he's still got a rogues gallery, and finds himself growing increasingly frustrated to fight the same thirty guys or so time and time again. The cyclical nature of the hero-villain feud gets center stage in this version of the Spider-Man mythos. Peter dwells on it a lot, and is desperate to break that cycle before it can finish breaking him.

But none of this should undercut the silver linings of Specs' life. As he's matured over the years, and despite his abrasive nature, he's gained a small collection of friends, allies, and found family. He's grown close to, courted, dated, and married Mary Jane Watson, the strongest woman he's ever known. Through his repeated journeys into the multiverse he's met countless other spider-based vigilantes, including alternate versions of himself, and their friendship has massively lessened the feeling of isolation his career creates. And he's made a real, tangible difference in the world around him. A change for the better, however small. He'd keep being Spider-Man even if none of this was true--he's a stubborn bastard like that. But all this makes his grief feel worth it. Even when he can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, all this lets him carry a little light with him.

(Art by @SpiderWitHyphen on Twitter.)

[wanderinginksplot]

Hey, Ink! Sorry if this is a dumb question, but when you say the Refuge series is eventually Delta Squad/fem! reader, do you mean platonically, or is it a polyamorous romantic relationship, or a romantic relationship between reader and one member of Delta Squad? I don’t want to make any assumptions. But I’m liking the series so far! You’re one of my favorite novelists, even if all I’ve read is your fanfiction; it’s that good!!

Hey, friend! Fun story: I was literally 100% sure I answered this. Apparently, I just vividly imagined that I had. I'm so sorry for the wait! (And thank you for that very sweet compliment!)

Refuge will eventually be centered around a polyamorous romantic relationship between Delta Squad and the fem!reader. Any NSFW stuff will be posted on my sideblog. Any romantic activities (probably kissing at most) or references to anything more will be clearly listed in the warnings at the top of every chapter hosted on this blog.

However, I should probably take this chance to publicly remind everyone that this blog is SFW, but is NOT aimed toward children or young readers. Characters in my fics curse and flirt and make dirty jokes. There's violence and references to heavy themes that may not be suitable for younger readers or people who are sensitive to these things. While nothing NSFW that happens in Refuge will be posted on this blog, it is a story surrounding an openly polyamorous relationship. There will likely be mentions of and references to things that are a little spicy for people under the age of 18 or those who prefer not to read similar material.

Sorry if that was unclear! Refuge is going to be an incredibly slow burn, probably at least a handful of chapters before they even start flirting. If I misled anyone about the kind of story it will eventually be, I apologize. I'll post a clear warning on the next chapter (which should actually be posted relatively soon)!

Thank you for sending in this ask and I'm sorry my brain decided to check it off the to-do list without actually prompting me to respond! And thank you for letting me post a PSA on my response to your ask! 😊

[arcticfallsarctic]

First AvA idea, hope its worth it

Ever heard of DSMP?

Probably, yes. 

There’s a lot of ideas centered around them, different AUs and what-ifs, and I saw one the other day and had a Thought.

In lore, when Wilbur died, he came back as Ghostbur. After a series of incidents that I’m too lazy to articulate, Wilbur was revived, and was also possibly insane but that’s not the point. 

This idea is from Gumi Yumi’s Villain Bench Trio idea, where they essentially put Ghostbur back inside Wilbur, to “keep an eye on him,” and Wilbur probably isn’t having a good time. 

There was another post (Idk who it is) (nevermind i found it) by Tulip (https://tulipsempai.tumblr.com/ [which is their sideblog]) called “Second Chance,” where Dark was almost dead but struck a deal with Victim to not be dead. 

This is basically that, but neither Dark nor Victim wants this. (1. Tbh, I’m not sure if it should be Dark or someone else like Chosen, but the whole insanity thing is pretty on par. Not exactly, but close. 2. In Gumi Yumi’s AU, I’m pretty sure Ghostbur doesn’t understand the weight of what’s basically possession on Wil. So there’s that. This whole thing depends on how you see Victim, tbh. Maybe he wouldn't've cared because he was stuck in the deletion void for so long.)

If Dark is Wilbur, I would kind of imagine Chosen to take on a Tommy role. Tommy didn’t know Wil’s plan of blowing up, but most definitely would’ve stopped him if he knew. Chosen DID know and tried to stop Dark, even if it weren’t for personal reasons. Alan as Redza? Father figure more of in the sense that he made Dark, and creators are probably seen as gods to most stick figures anyway. 

Two things is first, if Chosen were to propose this plan, Victim and he would’ve had to be made at the same time, making them twinsies. Would Chosen work with Noogai to get his sibling back? Also, does Chosen care less about Dark than he does Vic, or does he think he’s doing the genuine right thing? Second, would TSC agree to this? He probably wouldn’t Wonder how that plays out.

I don’t know how the Fighting Sticks would react to this. On one hand, Dark killed them to death, so why should they care. On the other, this is entirely unethical. I feel as though they would be split amongst themselves.

That’s basically all. 

Oh btw what name should they (Dark and Victim) have?  

[starsmuserainbow]

Someone must have found out how to get Starfire ‘back’, because Blackfire found herself startled out of a meditation by a vibration of an alarm that she carried in her pocket. She got up from Starfire’s bed quickly, immediately reaching for a bag that she had long prepared for the case of a sudden leave. On her way to the door, though, it opened already, and Blackfire stumbled back a few steps.

“Sister! You have taken me and held me imprisoned, only to settle in my room with my friends and attempt to destroy as much of my life as you are able to, and then you intended to keep me forced to helplessly watch it all!”

“You always said we should understand one another better! This is the best way of understanding you, if I take over your life! You can take mine in return, too!” “I am not interested in your life, nor your manipulations! I thank X’Hal that our little Silkie has been successful in evading you, and that I am free now to bring the consequences upon you!” Blackfire made a face to that. “Really? You don’t know what you’re missing out on, all these worlds you could see if you just take my-” Green blasts of energy hit her center, carrying enough force to push Blackfire straight through the large windows of Starfire’s room, and she now hovered outside. The other Titans rushed into the room now too, probably alerted by the glass shattering, and everyone glared at Blackfire. “Oh alright, I see how it is. You really should be more open to bonding with your sister!”

Starfire got into the air too, clearly intending to go after Blackfire who now started to rush skywards, but Starfire stopped when her friends called for her. They were glad that she was back, they said, and that was enough to convince her that Blackfire’s consequences could wait until another time. Landing back in her room again, she embraced them all into a group hug. Even Silkie joined in, crawling out of the air shafts and jumping onto the group.

------------------------------------------------

With posting this post, Blackfire’s Takeover is over! She has been forced back to only having her own blog, @queenofthegalaxxy​​ (a sideblog of here, as are all my other muses, please give them a look if you may, I’d be glad for the chance to interact with them with you too), and Starfire is back to do things and answer asks here!

All the replies from the things with Blackfire that I might still get back will be continued over on her blog by my next reblog, and added to the normal stack of things I owe, so be answered much slower than these last days.

I will reblog this post a few times, just to make sure that people see it.

[haleruby]

Forget Me Not

Characters/Pairings: established Malia/Lydia/Reader (Quim), Malia, Lydia, Scott, Stiles, lots of snow, and I never say it but the literal yeti. 

Summary: Amnesia makes the mind go brrr, but in a bad way...brr (sad). [This not being a published imagine for my followers means I can mess with the summary and other info as much as I want. XD]

Word Count: 5.9k

Notes: I am using a sideblog that is empty and not tagging bc this is only for your eyes (hopefully and technically the gif maker’s...thank you @ gifmaker for the gif), so no need to reblog/like, etc.

Hope you enjoy and it gives you a boost for dealing with your aunt. :-)

I wrote this around October 11th 2019, so apologies about the style not being quite as fluid as my other writing. My other stuff is a bit more recent, if you maybe wanna read it. Most of my teen wolf phase was around here and then it re-sparked in 2020 towards the fall so I added a tiny bit to that one story I told you about with the warnings. 

Also, apologies for the ending, lol. >.>

- - - - -

She is cold... So cold. It feels like a slab of ice is being used for a bed; her back aches all the way down to the individual vertebrae that compose her spine. Pain is slowly causing her other senses to return, enlivening them in cruel way so feeling anything means to hurt to some degree. A whooshing sound makes it hard to think, it rips across her mind dashing the thoughts that slowly trickle in through the haze and the ache. What happened...? Whipping wind continues to bear down on wherever here is. There is hardness under her, so she is probably on the ground and outside based on the frigid temperature. Moving an arm to check the hypothesis causes pain to lance through her shoulder so sharply a feeling of vertigo sets in. The firm ground suddenly tilts slightly. The leverage is increased almost mockingly, it edges up bit by bit like she is about to be slid off a cold metal tray to join the next batch of suffering. A choked whimper leaves her at the odd sensation of slipping. Just before the final plummet, she snaps back into herself viciously. Jolting does nothing good for her body, but now her eyes snap open with a slight burn as if they were sealed shut previously with chilled glue...At least she thinks they are open. Blinking confirms that her eyelids still function, which is good because she is trying not to think about how her arms and legs are not, though she can still mostly feel them. Everything is white. A flurry of white is all she sees after staring long enough to detect movement in what was thought to be a static image. Snow from what may be an impending blizzard continues to beat down on the surroundings, coating them in freezing rain, smatterings of hail, and ice. Why isn't she buried yet...? How long has she been here? A large conglomerate of flurries landing on her cheek causes her to wince, because it will not melt for a time, but the question remains. The left side of her face is stinging brutally, while the rest of her exposed skin only feels like a wind chap is starting to set in. Frowning makes it seem like there is something frozen to her skin; the downward curl is not reaching the left corner of her lips as if they are stuck. Is there something on her face? Staring blankly at the sky is not helping any of this make sense. Turning her head a miniscule amount causes her to feel sick, so she stops, trying to breathe evenly although the slight shaking is making it difficult. Being still is not an option, but the jolts of pain makes her wish it was. Evergreen trees were glimpsed in her peripheral vision; they looked towering and dark, not all fit for a happy Christmas. Woods plus winter with injuries does not sound good. Why is she even here? Working up the will power to try and get up is not something she has even entertained, since moving a single appendage hurt way too much. The snow fall is becoming less like the interior of a cheap snow globe and more like sheets of rain are freezing and then coating the forest solidly. Her right arm is no longer visible. Maybe getting under a tree would provide some protective covering? Don't get up, just shuffle. She can do that. Her feet ache in a disconcerting way like they fell half asleep. Digging her heels into whatever frozen packed dirt or snow is under her takes a few minutes, but little divets were clumsily formed. Now, she just has to leverage it. Her left arm is tucked close after what happened when she moved it. Shakily drawing her legs up again allows her to try and push back slowly, more so scrambling a few inches than moving back with purpose. Sliding against snow should be easy. The rocks and sticks that litter the ground seem to dig into her when she attempts the awkward dragging motion that causes a pull of tension across her body.

It hurts. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she mumbles hoarsely. Anger at not knowing why, where, or what lead to this prompts the pain signals to be ignored, instead she attempts to continue the mutilated crab walk back. Powdery snow sticks to the black of her pants with less finding purchase on the plastic shell of the navy jacket. A bit of red is spotted in the snow, but checking for the source of bleeding is secondary to getting away from the flurries. A trail of blood spottily forms from where she started to where she has hauled herself to. She is practically panting, which causes the cold air to stab her lungs like multiple knifes each time a ragged breath is drawn in. Her movements become out of sync, bordering on frantic. Less than a few meters of progress has been made... A foot digging in is mistimed with the curl of her back and placement of her arm, so that the stretch wracks through her painfully. A gasp muffles the cry of pain. She ends up off balance, crashing to her side heavily. Snow forces her to reflexively turn her head slightly to the side, but she still feels it burning in a way only ice can against her cheek. Throbbing stemming from her left temple encapsulates her head in a vice and is likely what makes the white dance with undulating blots of black for a while until her vision slowly clears back up. She could just rest and then try again. Maybe she should just close her eyes... Lean back and try to conserve warmth until the effort to move again seems possible. A cat nap could work? She tried and is tired; it's deserved. A sudden shrill howl barely stirs her, but a primal part of her mind urges her to become slightly more alert. That kind of sound belongs to a predator. Laying semi-buried in the snow with the inability to move may as well be an open invitation for dinner to whatever can survive the harsh conditions of the forest; it is probably a wolf or something canine. The tree line is watched between too slow blinks for whatever just made that noise. Nothing happens... She didn't imagine it. The cold has penetrated her gloves, it has penetrated her to the very center of her being, but fingers weakly search for something of use. A large rock? A stick? A phone? A conveniently placed gun? There is nothing she can use for defense, so her right arm stops extending outwards from her side to come to rest with her useless left one. Guarding her vital organs may at least help a little... Another howl sounds, but this one sounds deeper and echoes across the space; it sounds low, haunting, and mournful. There is more than one... They could play tug-a-war with her.  She can barely make it to a tree for makeshift shelter, so climbing one to impede them locating her is also a 'no'. No weapon or means to deter the animal was magically found in the snow. The state she is in is yet another limitation, because she could not fend one off in perfect health either. ...What does she do?  A short yip sounds like an announcement that her time to wrack her weary mind for a solution has trickled away. The source of the sound is located immediately as a small wolf with large, rounded ears makes a bee line for her. She vaguely thought it would have white fur or maybe a light gray, but a tawny brown sticks out against the snowy surroundings and looks distinctly out of place; it should be in a rich pine forest with browns and greens. Mentally critiquing the animal is not what she should be doing. Fear laced adrenaline causes her to clench her right fist tightly as she attempts to shift upwards to appear less prone—less weak. Gathering snow in her palm is so she has something to throw, even if a snow ball is a poor choice against a predator. The animal skids to a stop a little ways away, raising its head towards the sky to scent the air. Is it smelling her blood and judging that she is easy prey?

Teeth grit at the thought, because she has no idea about wolves or whatever dog thing this is. Could noise scare it away or only incite it further? How do you deter a canine? Looking it in the eye may be taken as a challenge or as a warning, but she still stares into its' eyes sharply, trying to project an intimidating aura as she narrows her own. The little quakes racking her paired with the fact she is on her back does not make her cut an imposing figure. A slow step forward is taken as the small wolf lowers its body more to the ground; it must be savoring how easy a kill this will be. Her arm draws back in warning. Will the wolf call her bluff and edge closer? "Go away," she seethes, knowing that saying something to it is a lost cause, but it is eyeing her oddly for an animal, almost thoughtfully. Lunging for her throat or springing forward to pounce should have occurred by now. Why isn't it attacking? Ears fall back, almost dropping at the tone, rather than being pressed flat against the skull in anger. Another step forward is taken and then another, until the wolf is close enough that she thinks she can hit it...The snowball is poorly compacted and falls apart, but some of it lands on its fur, which causes the wolf to shake its head at the action, giving a disgruntled chuff at the coldness.  ...Did she expect that to go any better in her head? No. But it was her only real projectile. The wolf does something unexpected, it sits down like a dog and stares at her with those too human eyes. The forest in summer again comes to mind; a rich hazel that borders on brown like wood bark aside from the lightness around the iris is trained on her. She glares right back. Maybe its not a wolf, because it looks small and lean with a body that seems more agile than powerful. A long snout reminds her of a fox, and those ears that are still down are not really that wolf like either, too floppy... Maybe it's a special breed to this area or something else, not that it matters when it definitely has vicious claws, sharp teeth, and she can't get away. A decision must have been made as it creeps closer with tentative footfalls that barely displace the snow. Her arm is pinwheeled to kick up the remaining snow at her side at it in a last ditch effort for distance, but it keeps coming closer heedless of the weak icy barrage. The coolness likely does not seep through its thick fur. "Stop! Please, just go back!" She raises her voice sharply, distilling a hardness to her tone that causes the near hyperventilating quality of her breathing to abate for a moment as she tries to issue a command to a wild animal. Surprisingly, the wolf does halt its progress, but what it does next has her trying to get away as if the promise of being eaten was only a slight offense. Hazel just flashed a brilliant, glowing electric blue that seemed to pierce through her. Its an unnatural wolf thing. There may be worse things than death. Scrambling away using both hands and legs was a mistake, one that was made more than once as she groans. Her jaw locks like a steel trap as she continues, now on her stomach rather than side to crawl away. Tears feel momentarily warm against her frozen cheeks, before causing the burning to redouble from the wind. Everything hurts. She claws desperately at the snow, trying to get away, because there is no explanation for what she just saw or how odd the creature is in general. Her vision seems to be becoming the view used for wide screen movies; darkness creeps around the edges. She is struggling to make sense of things other than the need to move away, because that creature goes against the natural order.

Its too intelligent, it knows too much. Those eyes. It won't just kill her... Something grabs a fistful of her jacket, tugging backwards to prevent the flagging forward motion. It must have a mouthful of her jacket. She kicks out. Her legs feel like lead weights that she only has a minor degree of control over and no contact was made with a furry body, instead only the inevitable collision back with the hard ground occurs. The additional jolt is nothing compared to the rest of the pain that is maddening at this point, because the adrenaline rush is failing at dampening it. Her actions are catching up with her. An angry sob leaves her when she inelegantly falls face first in the snow. Her arms are shaking and she can't support herself anymore while also resisting the wolf. The grip on her jacket is suddenly replaced by a clamping sensation on her shoulder. There is no tearing or teeth burrowing. What feels like fingers squeeze her shoulder, until another hand is placed flatly on her back. What the Hell? What. The. Fuck. Being turned over slowly causes her to whimper; her eyes screw shut because nothing makes sense and she hates it all. Fighting has gotten her nowhere. Something warm settles on her cheek, and she should look to see what is going on, but she is too cold and tired to care. The whipping wind gains an additional sound, though she can't process what it is except that is softer and more pleasing to the ear. A voice? No, that isn't possible. The falling sensation comes again; this time she does not try and stay upright or grounded against it, allowing herself to go along with it. She gives up. . . . . . . "-the blizzard is only increasing; it took out the power lines. We can't go out in that." "You can't, but I can." A dull bang sounds like someone hit something wooden with their fist. "We can't!" This is half shouted in clear exasperation that may be hiding anger. "Losing anyone else isn't an option, ok? I want to know where he is too, but you can't see, smell, or even hear when it's this bad out, and we don't know what is out there that did that to her. You're not thinking it through, Scott." "He's a part of the pack." Listening to the argument unfolding any further is prevented when warm fingers graze her neck. She stops playing possum. Her eyes snap open to meet startled green ones that reminds her of emerald gemstones. A strawberry blonde girl is sitting on the burgundy upholstered couch she lays on, and may just be checking her pulse, but her right hand wraps tightly around her wrist just in case the action is not so innocent. Only a cursory glance is given to the surroundings, since she feels on edge. Where is she? A ski lodge... Thick wooden logs make up the walls, though it is hard to tell how large the space is when only candle light provides light. She does spot the underside of the A-line architectural support that is made of exposed beams. A few mounted deer heads leer at her with glassy black eyes. One wall boasts a large crackling stone fire place that has ancient crossed ski poles above it as a decoration; this is the main source of warmth and brightens the large 'U' of couches that could fit a dozen or more comfortably. This must be a lobby, not a home, based on the few informational areas and posters she saw. Was she out skiing? Returning her attention to the girl has her pausing, because she is being watched so closely, but there may be fear to that gaze too. Pale skin seems to lack much color, even though the fire is casting warmth on both of them and making the red to her hair more vibrant. Her grip is not that tight, and she was touched first, so why is she being looked at like that? Releasing the hold after moving those probing fingers away occurs; she did not mean to frighten her... "She's up! Thank God." The sudden announcement breaks the silent stare off. A guy with spiked brown hair dashes over to the couch alongside a taller guy with black hair that is somewhat obscured by a beanie. These were the two who were arguing. She simply observes them, unwilling to be the first one to speak, because she has no clue how she got here and would rather not be at a deficit by admitting that. Letting them do the informing is a smart move. "We set your arm back in place, but you may need surgery for the cuff," Stiles explains, coming to kneel beside the couch. Soft brown eyes sweep over her form that has less snow and blood caked on it; however, he is still worried about the injuries, especially when they only have a small first aid kit and makeshift sling on hand. "We bandaged what we could. Also, you will probably need a CT scan because your head has a crack in it like Humpty Dumpty. We will figure it all out, Quimmie." He seems pretty caring, so she nods stiltedly in agreement for him to continue speaking. The taller one, who must be Scott, draws closer, fiddling with a walkie talkie in his hand, before sighing. She waits for him to muster up the will to speak. "I know you're hurting, and I'm sorry, but where is Liam?" Once one question is asked it seems that it breaks the dam so a deluge of them come forward as his dark brown eyes narrow at the faint popping of static that comes from the device. There has not been a check-in in a while. "What happened to your team? Was it the ridge that you investigated or did it come after you on a trail? Were the hikers right, and it's just a crazed wolf or something else?" "You can't ask her all that at once." "Stiles, the temperature is dropping further and he is still out in it." "Yeah, and she just woke up, Scott. So back off." A hand finding her own diverts her focus from another brewing argument between the two. Fingers interlace with her own one at a time with a gentleness that confuses her after how hard everything else has been, so she doesn't immediately resist it. A pinky edges over the row of her digits until her hand is covered and then a hold is formed that she does not return. The question must be evident on her features, because a sad smile of understanding is given; it looks like the girl is trying not to crumble, which she accomplishes, but the underlying cracks are still there for all to see. What did she do to be looked at like that?   "Malia is right..." Stiles practically rounds on both of them, knocking his knees against the edge of the couch at the softly spoken statement. "No, Lyds," he disagrees immediately, before locking eyes with impassive (Y/E/C) that watch him, but do not really take him in or express much emotion. He thought it was from the pain and shock, not because... "What is my name?" "Stiles," she answers correctly, because it was spoken already.

"Scott said it earlier," Lydia points it out calmly.  Stiles runs a hand down his face, not wanting to test the theory that Malia suggested because of what it could mean, but he also knows he needs to. There is a reason the werecoyote is listening from behind the couch and not present with the rest. The earlier fear towards her cut her to the bone. Explaining it away as confusion or discombobulation did not convince Malia, who he tries to not glance directly at, even though he can see the glowing blue to her eyes, because this is upsetting to her. He balls his hands into fists; it can't be that. "What school do we all go to?" She says nothing, but wishes the couch cushions would absorb her into it. "What does our dad do for a living?" He asks it more sharply at the silence that seems to say more than any answer could. No, no, no. A hand is placed on the edge of the couch to keep balance as he sinks to his knees, rather than kneel; he meets her eyes squarely. "Come on, try and answer."   Her brows furrow at this, because she does not look particularly like him for them to be blood related. His features are mentally compared to what she intuitively knows to be her appearance. The skepticism is not voiced.  Being stared in outright disbelief by Stiles makes it clear that anything she could say about the situation would make it worse. "What is your name? Where are we from? What is the year? Who is she-" A hand gestures quickly to Lydia, though he quickly unfolds his fingers so he is not rudely pointing at her, but his palm shakes, "-to you? Malia, come over here and-" "Stiles." Lydia's voice holds a firm warning as she places a hand on his shoulder, pushing him slightly away from the couch edge before he looms closer. She scoots to be blocking his stare that practically tears into them with its desperate edge. He probably does not even realize he was raising his voice, almost shouting out each question so it warped into a demand. "Don't push her; it's not her fault." "She isn't saying anything!" Stiles counters. "It wouldn't be what you all want to hear..." That causes the pack to grow quiet for a moment as they each consider the matter of fact statement. "So, what? You were just going to go along with it?" Scott asks, confused. The realization that they have no idea what they are facing or how Liam is doing also weighs on him in addition to how this amnesia will affect the pack. Did they just lose two friends tonight? He sits down heavily on the coffee table, shooting Malia a sympathetic look to try and silently communicate she needs to dim down. "There are five of you and one of me, not great odds, so-" "We aren't going to hurt you." The vehement interjection causes her to reword the point, though green eyes practically blaze as they meet her own; any of that fear has burned away, replaced with conviction. "I don't know anything about anything," she admits softly, glancing at the red and black plaid blanket draped over her legs to cope with so many people staring at her. Her head still aches and this is tiring. "Waiting to see what you had to say was the logical thing to do. I don't know your intentions, but I wasn't going to lie to you. Thanks for helping me out of the snow..." "That was Malia," Scott supplies automatically. She has the feeling that none of the ones in the seating area is this Malia person, so a nod is given. Stiles rises from the stone floor, trying to figure out how to fix the situation. This is no broken bone that can be set or a cut that needs to be stitched up; her memories are not murky or mixed up, but are completely gone. "Can you please tell us what you do remember?" "Why?"

"So we can help you and our other friend." Scott answers honestly, before Stiles losses the bit of composure he just re-gained. He is in older, adopted brother mode and is obviously upset. "We can answer your questions too." "I didn't say I had any..." "You don't know anything, so you should. Unless being amnesiac is how you want to reinvent yourself before senior year." Stiles snipes, but backs off when his best friend gives him a warning look that does not compare to the one he will get from Lydia and Malia, if he keeps pressing it. He is mad at what happened not her...But she is not acting like his adopted sister, who has been with him for years, but someone else entirely. Fingers pull at the worn tassels of the blanket for a moment as she considers the alternatives, turning them over in her head given how tense things are and her own deficit. They did help her, so being difficult is not her goal. She can't shake that there is something not quite right about them, especially Scott, it makes her feel on guard like there is a potentially hidden deadliness. Why are they in an empty ski lodge? The owners should be present or at least the other customers. She is mostly laying down aside from a pillow that elevates her back, sitting upright would put them more on equal terms, but the pain that will come with moving is considered. "Okay, one quick question: why are you all here alone? This place does not seem to be in operation, so did you break in...?" Scott shares a look with Stiles. Telling the full truth would only work with someone acquainted with the supernatural and all of that must have been wiped away too. He runs his hands down his thighs to stall. "We got, er, permission to come up. There's an unsolved mystery that we are trying to crack. The resort is temporarily closed down, because of it and the blizzard..." He trails off, trying to balance the truth with the lies. "We are trying to help." "You do seem the helpful type," she observes dubiously, before crossing her right arm carefully with her sling encased left. The position helps her feel a bit more distant from their prying eyes; it feels like they are judging her, though that makes sense when she is expected to actually be someone, not a blank slate. She turns her attention to the fire. "I don't know a Liam. I don't know why we were on a team or what our objective was. All I remember is snow: white, cold, burning snow. I was on the ground trying to get up, but failed because everything ached. I actually felt like I was falling..." She presses her lips together, mulling over what else can be said. Those glowing, unnaturally blue eyes come to mind so vividly, it feels like she is staring at the creature again. They probably already think she is crazy enough without mentioning it. "There was a wolf, or maybe it wasn't a wolf, that kept coming towards me. I assumed it would maul me, but it didn't...I'm not sure how it was going to kill me, it seemed too patient and smart, not really like a typical animal. I freaked out and tried to crawl away when it got too close, which made all the pain a lot worse. I fainted. I'm assuming Malia scared it off or dealt with it, because I think I would remember it biting into me...Then I woke up here." Lydia wants to reach out to her, but prevents the urge with how previous attempts were received. She can tell that she is still struggling with the pain on top of everything else; however, the far off look in her eyes must mean something is not being voiced. They still have not shared her name...

"Okay, so everything before the snow is blank?" Stiles confirms, getting a curt nod in response that makes him want to throw something into the flames of the fireplace. This is not how the weekend's mission was meant to go. He is pacing in front of the hearth, chewing on the cap end of a pen as he thinks about where to go from here. She was also their only lead with Liam and the creature. How will his dad react? He's older--the older sibling, and feels responsible for her, and now she's a very familiar stranger..."You're sure that's it? So like an hour or so comprises your entire, new existence?" "Yes, Stiles." He ignores the slight irritation to her tone, because he is busy thinking. "Maybe we can jog her memory?" This is posed to the pack, like his sister is another murder case or mystery that he can add to his pin and red string laden board to puzzle out the connections and causes. He can solve this. "We should wait until my mom sees her and the doctors run legit tests. There may be rules on how to deal with head trauma patients," Scott disagrees gently. "Maybe the head trauma is not the cause...It could be something else?" "She is still healing and we don't know how bad everything is." Scott sees the way Stiles crosses his arm abruptly at the disagreement, annoyed. "I want to help her. We need to find Liam too." "The answer could lie with her if we just try and remind her who she is!" "That could make it worse." Lydia is unsure who she sides with between the two guys, but knows talking about the one in question like she is not present in the room is almost always a bad idea. Malia getting up from the wooden chair that was pulled from behind the receptionist's to rest behind the couch is mostly ignored. Supple leather comprises her winter boots that only make a faint clack against the wood floor. She moves purposefully, ignoring Lydia's questioning look as she rounds the couch and stands in front of it to peer down at its occupant. The lack of recognition causes her to feel a deep ache in her heart, while the early fear left a ragged wound behind. Taking a knee, she tilts her head slightly as she watches (Y/E/C) eyes look her over cautiously, rather than softly, because the one in front of her does not know her. "Uhm, thank you for saving me?" Malia ignores the tentative gratitude. "Malia, I-" Scott's concerned warning is stopped short when Stiles holds up a hand, silently asking for him to let whatever is about to happen unfold. He locks his jaw, knowing how affected his beta was when she arrived back at the lodge. She was practically incoherent in describing what happened, instead whimpering and growling when anyone got too close to the two and unwilling to let go of the one bundled up in her arms. She was more coyote than human... Scott slides to the very edge of the coffee table to intervene, if needed, as a precaution. She looks kind of angry...Hazel eyes are not nearly as searching as the green ones that were first on her, rather they seem to be invasively prying without hesitation. The shoulder length cut to her brown locks frames her face nicely, which makes her gaze that much harder to look away from. Being stared at like some sort of freak show is grating on her patience, so she eventually manages to glance away to look back at the fire, though her view is soon occupied by Malia shifting closer with a challenging look. A lightly tanned hand rests on the back of the couch, effectively caging her in. "If you have something to say, then please go ahead," she requests calmly. "How could you forget about me?"

"It wasn't a choice." "Then why aren't you remembering?" Malia almost snaps out the question. A scoff almost leaves her at the presumption, because this girl is really blaming her...Are they all placing the fault on her alone? Maybe the inkling that something is not right with some of them is because they are actually a threat; the lodge is becoming more inhospitable by the second.  "I can't. It's not like I'm repressing it," she replies sternly. "I don't know my own name, so it's definitely not personal. Get over yourself." "Quim. That is your name" Lydia offers, trying to mediate between the two, though she knows this is hard for Malia. It is hard for her too, but someone has to be on Quim's side as a source of support. "Oh, okay..." Fingers burrow deeply into the upholstery of the couch, nails threaten to extend and rip out the plush stuffing. Her coyote aspect howls in her mind. Malia grits her teeth against the hurt those words just stirred, trying to let anger mask it because she would have never thought this would happen to them. This is not how it should be. Relying on instinct, she surges forward, placing a hand firmly over Quim's heart to pin her in place as she joins their lips without asking for permission. She is her's, so she should not have to. The kiss is forceful, demanding and not at all how a kiss should be...It is also one sided. She is doing all the action, while her partner is frozen and unresponsive, though that stasis eventually breaks for Quim to turn her head away abruptly, before a hand is against her shoulder, pushing away. Trying to move away from Malia causes a sharp pull in her back that earns a wince. Fucking oww. "What the hell are you doing?!" "I was trying to jog your memory!" Malia counters. "You can't just kiss people!" "We've done way more than kiss, Quim!" That causes the indignation to leave her in a rush, making the anger feel unwieldy and too large for her to handle. She retracts her hand from Malia, re-crossing her arms as best she can to serve as a barrier between the two of them. Now, she is more confused. "What...?" "Maybe now isn't the time for this..." Scott attempts to reason with his beta. "Mal-" "My soulmate forgot me!" "Not on purpose." Lydia pipes up, earning a huff from the werecoyote, but at least she is listening to her. She links their hands to try and pull Malia away from the couch edge. "We need to be patient." "How are you handling this well? She forgot you too--both of us!" "Not. By. Choice." "I have two girlfriends...?" Stiles runs a hand down his face at the turn in conversation; this is not going to fix her memory, but of course that is what his sister takes away from the conversation. "Yes," he answers at the perplexed expression, rolling up his shirt sleeve to show his blank wrist. "Soul identifying marks. Ring any bells? No, well, you have two of them, so you have two soulmates, even though it is rare to have even one. Lucky you."  Oh... Green and hazel eyes no longer meet in a silent, tense stare off, settling back on the occupant of the couch. Quim falls silent under their attention, unsure what could be said when forgetting your literal fated other halves.

[siswritesyanderes]

How do you deal with people stealing from you?(writings, arts... and claim it as their own, it really makes me sad and questions myself if I should continue.)

I don’t think that has ever happened to me (and if you see something like that, please tell me), so I can’t really say how I would handle it. My mutuals on my main blog and the people who interact with me on this sideblog have been very good about asking me if it’s okay if they borrow certain ideas or turns of phrase. Off the top of my head, the closest I’ve seen of straight-up plagiarism of my work is either when people repost a yandere ASMR for which I wrote the script on different websites without the ASMRist’s permission (and I don’t really take personal offense at that because I more consider it the ASMRist’s work than mine and also those people always give the original artist credit because he’s popular and his name is part of the prestige of the video, so while I’m not glad they did it, those feelings aren’t personal for me) or that one time when I published a book (when I was like thirteen) and my younger cousin won a school award by basically writing a very similar story, for a writing assignment (and that I found adorable and flattering; I hadn’t even known that he liked the book).

If someone did repost my stuff without credit, I’m sure I would feel pretty annoyed; I get jealous of some pretty petty things sometimes, and it usually tends to center around not getting credit for stuff (like, people have asked me to send them videos of things and then uploaded those videos to YouTube, and all of their comments were like “Thank you for filming and uploading this!” and I felt a little prickly about it for no reason; I didn’t even want credit for filming it, but I was still kinda jealous). The first thing I would probably do, though, would be to read the comments. Because having it posted elsewhere means I might have more comments to read. Before I could even think about politely arranging to get credit for my work without starting a beef with anyone, I would have to read absolutely all of the comments. (Is my Whole Thing becoming that I’m obsessed with comments?)

I’m really sorry to hear that it’s happened to you, though. I’m sorry that I can’t really empathize, but rest assured that you absolutely don’t deserve that kind of betrayal, and I hope that people stop doing it. Separating someone’s work from their name is a pretty insidious way of devaluing the artist and the process that led to the art being made, and it’s inconsiderate of how much artists stand to benefit from exposure. It’s 100% the other person’s fault for doing this to you. If there’s any comfort you can take out of this, let it be that people don’t steal what isn’t valuable. If you need to take a break from sharing your work, I totally understand that and encourage you to do whatever you need to do to feel comfortable again. But I hope this doesn’t make you stop creating.

[apharine]

The First Annual Staff Party of the Castle That Never Was

Chapter 1: Rumors and Wagers

Pairing:  Reader/Organization XIII

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Rating:  M

Read on AO3

Summary:  [Reader-insert Seven Minutes in Heaven with Organization XIII] When you woke up, you were expecting a quiet day off from missions, shared with no-one but yourself. But your day off went terribly, almost predictably, wrong, and by that evening, you'd been roped into contributing towards a potluck dinner and playing some mashup of Seven Minutes in Heaven and Spin the Bottle with your Organization XIII colleagues. Kingdom Hearts help you.

Notes:  Hey all!  I’m the author Apharine over on AO3, but you can call me Kana here on Tumblr!  My main blog on Tumblr is all serious stuff and I wanted a place where I can post my fanfics and fandom-related contributions and talk to people about KH, so I’m making this sideblog!  I always follow back and will try to be regular in my updates, and might even take requests at some point, too!

                                         _____________________

    When you walked into the Grey Area after a late breakfast, the rumors were flying more quickly than an Air Soldier Heartless.

    “Hey, you might be the last one to have heard,” Axel beamed at you as soon as you stepped in the common space, obviously overjoyed to share the news.  With one lanky arm around your shoulders, the redhead navigated you into the center of an absolutely packed Grey Area.  It seemed nobody was currently on a mission, which was extremely unusual – you thought you were the only one with today off.  What was going on?  The couches were jam-packed, and even the standing area around them was full, every Nobody unusually animated and talkative.  “Luxord apparently finally got Xemnas to make a wager with him!  It - ”

    “The Superior would never do such a thing,” Saix’s deep voice interrupted Axel’s eager chatting as the blunette approached, clipboard in hand.  “And according to my notes, Axel, you should currently be in Agrabah –”

    “Nobody’s going anywhere today, Treasure-Face,” Xigbar drawled from where he sprawled on the couch next to Demyx, who was strumming his sitar and adding to the already clamorous background noise.  “Go Berserk on them all if you want, but it’s a battle you’re still going to lose.”

    “We have an Organization to run, Number Two,” Saix returned, but Xigbar had already turned around and was chatting with Larxene, who was leaning against the back of the couch.

    “I heard Zexion say that they were betting on the outcome of Vexen’s current Replica project,” Demyx said to you conspiratorially.  Beside you, Saix’s grip on his clipboard tightened just incrementally.

    “They would not –“ Saix began, but was cut off by Marluxia, who had just traded spots with Xaldin on the opposite couch.

    “I heard from a rather reliable source that they were betting on which of the recent worlds we’ve acquired would prove to be more strategic for us,” the botanist announced, leaning casually on the armrest of the couch.

    “They’re all strategic, and producing many hearts,” Saix interrupted, trying desperately to reassert authority.  “Marluxia, you’re supposed to-“

    “I heard that they were betting on who could win the trivia night at that bar in Hollow Bastion,” Xigbar laughed, cutting Saix off yet again.  You were certain that the Freeshooter was just doing it to piss the Diviner off…and to stir up trouble.  Surely Xemnas would never bet on something as frivolous as that – would he?

    Xigbar’s comment set off the firestorm that he had intended.  Everybody exploded in a downright brouhaha of what they’d heard, what they thought, and why certain theories were a bad or good idea – all at once.  Even Lexaeus, normally as silent as Nobodies were known to come, was chattering with Zexion and Vexen in a little huddle.  The sheer noise of the Nobodies was startling; hadn’t anybody designed this place with decent acoustics, or did everything echo here?

    “Wait, Axel,” you shouted over the cacophony.  “I don’t get it.  Just because Xemnas made a bet – what’s the big deal?”

    “Well, there’s only one outcome when you bet with Luxord,” Axel shouted back over the din, leaning down towards you.  “So, naturally, Xemnas lost.”

                                        _____________________

    Speculation could only last so long, and eventually, the crowd died out, trailing off to do whatever it was Nobodies did on their collective self-appointed day off.  Eventually, you, Demyx, and Axel were the only ones left in the Grey Area with Saix, who was still seething.  Demyx didn’t care about the bluenette’s anger; after all, he never cared anyway and would barely have done the mission even on a normal day.  Axel and Saix, you knew, were pretty close, so Axel probably didn’t feel nervous even when he was the target of Saix’s irritation.  And you – well, this actually was your day off, so what was the Diviner going to do to you?

    “It’s pitiable,” Saix growled, “that one little rumor is enough to send our infrastructure crumbling to the ground.  We should all be better than this,” he added, casting a sidelong glance at Demyx, who was showing you how to play a C chord on the sitar and really not listening at all.

    “Yeah,” Axel said absent-mindedly.  “I guess we should be.  But, you know, the funny thing is that I think around when Luxord first joined the Organization, he made a wager with me that he could get Xemnas to lose a bet.  So, even though it’s been years, I guess I’ve lost that one.  I’m honestly kind of nervous about what’s in it for me, now.”

    “Wait, wait, wait,” Demyx said, letting go of your hand where he’d been positioning it on the neck of his sitar.  “You made that bet, too?  I did the same thing when Lux first joined!”

    “Yeah, me too, when I first joined,” you agreed, a bit taken aback.  Soon, all eyes were on Saix.

    “I…” he trailed off, and you almost wondered if there wasn’t a touch of a blush rising to his cheeks.  You tried to suppress a smile; he took himself so seriously!  “Me too,” he mumbled, barely audible.  You and Axel exchanged a glance, and you knew he was thinking the same thing as you; how many others were there who had been caught up in this?  Or was it just the four of you?

    A tap on your shoulder made you jump and almost let out a yelp.  You twisted around, surprised, terrified of finding Luxord or Xemnas waiting for you.  But no, it was just a Dusk, politely handing you a playing card.  You frowned and took it, turning it over to reveal its face, as the Dusk went around, politely handing out cards to everyone else in the room before stalking off.

    “You have been summoned to Where Nothing Gathers for a lunchtime meeting.  Arrive at noon promptly,” you read aloud.  There was no signature; there didn’t need to be.  Every one of you knew who had distributed these memos.

                                        _____________________

    You and Larxene entered Where Nothing Gathers together, finally having fallen silent from all of your shared speculation.  She, too, had made that same bet with Luxord when she joined the Organization.  How many others were there?  Had Xemnas really lost?  Moreover, were you all totally, royally screwed?

    “See you,” Larxene said with a small grimace and a shrug of her shoulders before parting ways with you to take her place on her throne.

    “See you,” you echoed, sure your face looked as bewildered as hers, though it was oddly reassuring to know that you weren’t the only one confused and a little afraid.

    Demyx was the last one to take his place on his throne, somewhat unsurprisingly.  The Superior sat and waited for him in stolid, stony silence, his face betraying nothing.  For a long moment, it looked like he wasn’t even going to speak.

    “So why are we all gathered here today, in Where Nothing Matters?” Xigbar asked to no one in particular, kicking back and looking quite amused with himself.

    “Gathers,” Saix growled.  “Where Nothing Gathers.”  Xigbar only grinned and shrugged; it was obvious to everyone that today was an ideal day for him to stir up some trouble, and he was loving it.

    “We are gathered here, at this abrupt hour,” Xemnas spoke, his deep, resounding voice silencing all others.  “Because our Number Ten has an announcement to make.  You will all follow his every order without exception.  Do I make myself clear?”

    Around the room, everybody nodded slowly, and all eyes shifted to Luxord on his throne.

    “Greetings, colleagues!”  He chirped out in his British accent, sounding so cheerful that the sharp contrast to Xemnas’ monotone was startling.  “I understand that various rumors are flying around the Castle, and I want to make one thing perfectly clear: whatever you’ve heard, it’s all true.  Now,” he grinned, looking out at everyone with a dangerous light in his blue eyes.  Your stomach turned; what were you all in for?  Never before had Xemnas announced that you were all to follow any orders other than his or Saix’s, and Saix was really just an extension of the Superior, anyway.  “I’d like to announce that tonight, at eight o clock, we will be holding our First Annual Staff Party in the Hall of Empty Melodies.”  Luxord paused for effect, beaming out at his audience.

    “You’re serious?”  Marluxia spoke up, interrupting the silence.

    “Besides the Superior’s orders,” Xaldin snapped.  “I see no reason to attend this Staff Party.  It’s frivolous and a distraction to our plans.”

    “Well,” Luxord answered cheerily.  “The funny thing is, Xaldin, you may recall a bet that we made when I first joined the Organization…”  He trailed off for a moment, and the Whirlwind Lancer frowned, slumping in his seat.  “I do believe that you’ve lost that bet today.  In fact, I do believe you’ve all lost that bet today,” Luxord added.  You glanced around the room; Luxord had roped literally everyone in the Organization into this somehow?  “And unless you want to encounter the Superior’s anger, or you want to find out how unpleasant it is to break the terms of a contractually-binding bet with me, you will be in the Hall of Empty Melodies at eight tonight.  Dress is casual, jeans and a shirt are fine.”

    “Hey, Lux,” Xigbar called up, wasting no time.  “Is it bring your own beer?”

    “Potluck!  Potluck!”  Demyx started chanting, pumping his fists in the air and obviously thrilled at the idea of a party.  You sighed, slumping into your seat the same way that Xaldin had in his.  This was going to be a very long day off.

                                        _____________________

    Thanks to Demyx, Luxord actually had adopted the potluck idea, and you and Larxene had to go out together to pick some food up, since most of the rest of the kitchen was being dominated by Nobodies who were surprisingly eager to do some cooking.  You weren’t thrilled about having to spend the munny, but had to admit, it was kind of fun getting ready for a party with the only other girl in the Organization.

    “Which one?”  Larxene asked you, holding two tops up.  She wasn’t too into the whole casual-dress affair, and was enjoying getting a little dolled up for once.  Her fervor for it was infectious, and you had to admit, you were enjoying it just a little, too.  “I like the silver one, but then I’ll have to find a different bra, because this one is so dark it’ll just show right through it.  But the other top’s cute, too, and I can wear this bra with it, and let’s be real…it’s my best bra.  What do you think?”

    Before you could open your mouth, a very familiar voice interrupted.

    “Definitely the silver one,” Xigbar announced, vanishing through a portal in Larxene’s wall before she could manage to electrocute him – though not for lack of effort on her part.

                                        _____________________

    You and Larxene were among the first at the party.  Luxord had, of course, already beaten you to the Hall of Empty Melodies, and greeted you both with a one armed hug and peck on the cheek when he saw you.

    “Wonderful to see you both, so glad you could make it.  Potluck food on the table to the right,” he announced.  “Do mingle with the other girls; you’ve likely seen them around some places, Traverse Town, Hollow Bastion, that sort of thing.  They’re all good friends of mine, all have lost bets, you’re all in the same boat so do try to be friendly, loves.  Vexen!  Wonderful to see you…”  The Gambler of Fate moved on from you two as you shuffled toward the table to the right, as directed, eyeing whatever-it-was that Vexen had cooked up and was carrying in.  It looked gelatinous and very concerning.

    The staff party, it turned out, was a lot of fun.  Xigbar had brought some beer, Marluxia had brought some liquor, and you were sufficiently tipsy, your voice slightly hoarse from socializing and cheering on various beer pong teams, by the time ten o clock came around.

    “All right everyone,” Luxord called above the din.  “Gather round, circle up, come along now.”  Slowly, like a herd shuffling into place, the partygoers – yourself included – moved into Luxord’s ascribed position.  “Next up, we’ll be playing a game.”

    “King’s cup!”  Axel shouted.

    “No, no,” Luxord grinned with a little chuckle.  “Maybe later, though I’m certain some of you will be quite done for the night after that.  We’ll be starting with something a bit new, something that we couldn’t have done quite so well if not for the ladies present tonight.  Who here has heard of Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

    You and Larxene exchanged glances.  Oh, God, you thought, and you could see the same look written across her face.  Things had been going too well for you all as a group that had lost a bet with Luxord; you should’ve known it couldn’t last.

    The game had to be slightly modified, since it turned out that nearly nobody had any small, insignificant trinket to be contributed to pull out of a hat.  It was almost embarrassing, watching member after member of the Organization offer either munny, pocket lint, or their weapons to be put into the pool.

    Before Luxord attempted to collect from Xemnas, he gave up, redistributing the possessions back to their respective owners (give or take the pocket lint).

    “Somebody grab a bottle, I know you’ve all drank more than a few together so far,” he instructed as he struggled to move Saix’s Claymore back to him.  Saix, in exchange, gave him the requested bottle, looking extraordinarily nonplussed.  “We’ll determine who spins first by having the girls draw cards.  The first lady to pull the Ace of Hearts goes first.  Let’s see…Larxene, why don’t you start us off?”  The Gambler approached your friend, who was seated to your left with a very plain grimace on her face.  Luxord didn’t seem to notice or care, offering her a deck of cards fanned out in his hands.  With a small, angry groan of frustration in the back of her throat, Larxene drew the card from the far right.  You watched closely as your friend turned it over, revealing the Jack of Spades.  Her posture and face relaxed as she handed the card back to Luxord.

    “Next,” Luxord announced, moving the deck to you.  You sighed and shut your eyes, pulling from the deck at random.  When you opened them, you found the Ace of Hearts staring back at you.

    Just your luck.

    Setting your face into as unperturbed an expression as you could muster, you handed the card back to Luxord, who held it up for the group to see.  Surprisingly, the group remained silent as you walked toward the center of the circle, where the bottle lay.  You took a deep breath and knelt down, giving it a spin – not too hard, but not too gentle, either.  The little brown bottle turned around and around, wobbling and wobbling, until finally, it slowed, and when it stopped…

[beyondthetemples]

Multimuse RP questions!

{{ I couldn’t figure out which RP blog to stick these on (since I have like. nine), so I figured I’d just skip to the Answering Part over here. =w=

Found here: https://memesfortheroleplayerssoul.tumblr.com/post/163688858676

is there a muse that you wish gets more attention? Honestly? Dove. There are a couple of people who've said they love reading about her, and I'm so absolutely eternally delighted for them, too deeply appreciative for words! A couple friends I met via rping her, and a couple friends I met in Certain discord servers, but that's about it anymore. But she's my baby, you know? I love her, she's amazing, and I wish more people took the time to write stories with her, because she just has so much potential! I mean, yeah, for angst of course, but also for healing and comfort, for action and fantasy, for mystical and mundane plots alike. She's so multi-faceted and fascinating to explore, I just... well, maybe it's more selfish in that I need help exploring some of the more mundane stuff with her. Because if it doesn't really Have Relevance to a Particular Plot, I generally won't wind up writing it, let alone publishing it. :P But this answer's already too long; I could rave about Dove for hours! All I'm trying to say is, I wish more people cared about OCs.

if you HAD to choose, who’s your favorite muse? Favorite to RP with? Far and away, Dove! Favorite for crack RPs, Srentha or Leyla. Favorite canon character is a GIGANTIC toss-up between Raven and Lapis. Favorite characters to explore for personal reasons are Ryou Bakura and Blue Diamond, but I have a hard time bringing myself to actually WRITE about them, for some reason...

is there a muse that not a lot of people roleplay with? (Besides the ones I haven't advertised? ^^';;) Maybe Phobia? She has only ever existed in comic canons-- though she WAS in the Teen Titans Go comics too! (The original series, not the... bastardization). Anyways, she's a much lesser-known muse. And my muse for her is wildly unreliable, she's a volatile and abrasive character, and my inspiration for her has run dry for awhile now...

if you HAD to choose, who’s your least favorite muse? Phobia. o_o See above, actually.

which one of your muses have you been playing the longest? Prooobably Dove? She was the one I started rping with, of course!

which one of your muses has the most ships? Ships in their canon, or ships in my rps? Because you're talking to a demigray here; I don't really do romance? But in my stories, Dove has 3 ships (all at different times in her life). In rps, Dove has been kinda-contemplating-it shipped a couple times, but never got to the point of, you know, kissing... and in fandom, Lapis probably has the most.

what is each of your muses’ otps? notps? ~ Dove and Srentha together~ (Don't have notps for them.) ~ Kary: food? sleep? Her canon boyfriend Eric ~ Leyla has a qpp named Toby in the stories. ~ Raven: I'm demonbirds trash. I don't even know how that happened, honestly. (Notps include B|BRae and, while not as strong of a NO in the jlvtt canon, ter/raven.) ~ Lapis Lazuli: OTP with Peridot! Intensely notp with jasper. ~ Blue Diamond: OTP with Yellow hardcore, no notps to speak of. ~ Phobia: Utterly unexplored??? I think she voluntarily abstains. ~ Ryou: OTP with Joey (thank my girlfriend for that one)! Notp with Yami Bakura, it’s absolutely 100% possibly my most violently-disgusted NOtp yet. Also with Diva because... What The Fuck??? But I won't rant about that just now. ~ Jess: I haven't really done much shipping, though Mistress and Trick are a hella canon, deeply bonded breeding couple. ~ Evangeline? Sorta-OTP with my gf's character Taex, though it's not exactly a ~romantic~ dynamic. Notp with Srentha, probably, considering she'd try to kill him, given the chance, and she’s pissed at Dove for marrying him.

why were you drawn to each one of your characters? Okay, listen, you can't just ask something like this and expect an easy answer! I could write an Actual Legitimate Essay on EACH ONE, because I only write a character when I'm Extremely Highkey Personally Emotionally Inspired by them!

UPDATE: I tried to summarize, I really did! But there's just so MUCH, and it turned into an essay on its own. --> https://beyondthetemples-ooc.tumblr.com/post/189837029682/why-were-you-drawn-to-each-one-of-your-characters

Summaries go like this: Dove is brave, complex enough to delve deeply in and constantly discover new facets of, and inspiring enough to create a positive experience while doing so. Srentha is fun, positive, and passionate, and legitimate ADHD representation. Leyla is a chill miracle child of creativity and quiet passion. Raven is the reason I'm still alive and perfectly reflected me at about age 14, so I have a very deep personal connection to her. Kary is so fun to explore because she's my polar opposite, as a temperamental pyrokinetic who revels in chaos and really just wants to have a good time. Evangeline is everything Dove suppresses, brought to life, so she's fun to explore as an extension of Dove! Lapis has a lot of struggles to explore and has done a lot of healing and growth that I'd like to expand on someday. Blue Diamond and Ryou Bakura were basically literally me, so I can explore the trauma and healing from their perspectives in a safe space. And Phobia? I just wanted to put characters' mettle to the test honestly, and see what would happen.

which muse is the most fun to write for? Oh, Srentha, absolutely hands down! Dove does have the best close-friends casual-fun kind of rp relationships, though. And Mistress the Mismagius has this sardonic teasing sense of humor that always makes me smile, especially with Murky (Murkrow).

is there another muse you’ve been thinking of adding or writing for? who? Oh stars, I don't need another one. =w= I've been... struggling to get my Ryou blog actually up and running for a long while now. Nobody new has inspired me lately, but I'm pretty stuck in my fandom ways.

what is something everyone should know about your muses before interacting? I stick it all in their bios! But, let's see... Dove: Even though she's Raven's half-sister, she keeps it DESPERATELY hidden, and nobody IC is supposed to know about that. Srentha is very deeply rooted in Azarathean pacifism and won't do much in battle besides help people retreat. Leyla has her father's heart condition and can't do anything too active. Kary will rarely use her powers, as conjuring even a simple spark stings her scar badly. Lapis is more than her toxic relationship! Blue Diamond is NOT the dictator she once was! Ryou does NOT want the spirit of the millennium ring in his life anymore! Jess just... sticks mostly to Sinnoh and rarely ever leaves. And Evangeline has a palpable evil aura about her; she makes SURE of it.

what’s a weird headcanon you have for each of your muses? Dove hates pie. Srentha loves colorful things. Leyla will cover everything in glitter if you let her. Kary will do anything for some good food and/or a nap. Ryou's hair is untamable. Lapis doesn't guard her gem as carefully as she should. Blue Diamond may be more emotional, but she won't sing about it as frequently as other Gems. Raven... doesn't wear underwear?

which muse has the most aus or verses? I mean, the Lapis I was writing for was 97% canon divergent. Evangeline only exists as her own person (and not merely a partition of Dove's mind) in a DCUO-compatible timeline. But I don't really do aus or verses otherwise; it's just more stressful for me.

can you sort your muses from youngest to oldest? Sorting based on the ages I'll generally play them: Leyla (8-14), Dove (15-25), Kary (18+), Ryou (19+), Srentha (20+), Jess (22+), Phobia (23+), Lapis (5k+), Blue Diamond (10k+).

which muse is most willing to fight another muse? Oh, definitely Kary. (She won't fight Dove or Leyla, even if there's a really good reason. And Srentha has this weird power of defusing her. But anyone else, she can easily be provoked to fight on a dime.) Or maybe Evangeline, who will fight anyone at any time for any reason whatsoever?

do your muses get along with each other? Evangeline gets along with nobody. Dove/Srentha/Leyla are all a very tight-knit family, and Kary considers herself Dove's sister and Leyla's aunt. I've thought about what might happen if Lapis met Blue Diamond, but I don’t have the faintest idea of how that'd go? I did start an RP once where Lapis met Dove, and I planned to have them bond over homesickness and purpose-seeking, but then I lost the ehd I had that prewritten on, and never had the heart to try rewriting it. Ryou and Jess kinda exist in their own universe's bubble. (Jess has a whole cast of Pokemon creature muses she very much gets along with, though~)

would you ship any of your muses together? who? Dove and Srentha are hella-canon endgame already, that's been decided for like 12 years!

for each muse, is there a character you wish had a blog so you could interact with them? You know, I've never really been one much for wishing like that. I do wish Dove had a stable Raven again, since both of my all-time favorite Raven rpers have left the rp circle... but that's about it, really.

have you ever considered making a multimuse/is it easier having a multimuse? I mean, my Pokemon blog has like 19 muses built into the breeding center... 8F But no, I prefer to keep my drafts, rps, and tag systems for each muse on separate sideblogs. Tumblr's tags break WAY too often to shove them all in one place. (And with a sideblog, I don't have to log in and out every time I want to check for replies!)

which muse is the most problematic towards other muses? Toss-up between Phobia and Evangeline, obviously. Blue Diamond is a reformed Gem, the way I play her. (I don't care what anyone says, THAT'S CANON as HELL too!) But Evangeline actively goes out of her way to hurt and/or sacrifice people to her own ends,

which muse is most likely to make new friends? Probably Leyla, though now that SU has sent out a message across the Gem universe that Gems are welcome on Earth, Lapis could wind up meeting quite a lot of new acquaintances. It's much harder to befriend her, though. Srentha has a lot of charismatic energy too, and he’ll go out and make friends with anyone, given the chance.

which muses’ fandom do you like the best? Ahhh, don't make me CHOOSE like that! ;; Fandom like being a fan of them, or fandom like, liking the other people in the fandom? Because Steven Universe, Teen Titans, and YuGiOh all have incredibly special places in my heart, while having Their Issues amongst the fandom... Pokemon seems to be the best mannered fandom though, especially amidst the RP community.

is there someone playing the same muse/s as you and you really look up to them? Ohgosh, well there's a blog called, I think, melancholeyes?, that plays Blue so well, it's like reading canon scenes. I did see a blog that played a Ryou I respected, but I can't remember their name... and of course Larissa and Pix played great Ravens, but each a different version.

which muse do people send the most asks for? Probably Dove, thanks in large part to Caleb!

which muse is most likely to have kids? Leyla is already Dove's kid, so... 8F

is there a rule that someone keeps breaking for your muses? Not to my knowledge, but my rules aren't strict anyways.

can you sort your muses from weakest to strongest? ...Oh, stars. How am I supposed to sort them? Well, let's try this.

Weakest to strongest in combat (based on their style of choice): Ryou, Leyla, Srentha, Phobia, Evangeline, Jess, Kary, Dove, Lapis, Blue Diamond, Raven. ( * i switched raven and blue diamond around SO many times. both are immensely powerful with god-like abilities, but raven can literally destroy reality itself. so...)

Weakest to strongest by strength of heart and character: Phobia, Evangeline, uh... Kary? Srentha...? Uh... frICK THIS ONE'S HARD. Because they're all so strong in their own ways. Probably Leyla? Next tier is probably Blue, Lapis, and Jess, and Dove, Raven, and Ryou are highest tier.

which muse are you considering deleting? Phobia, and maybe sometimes Blue. (I actually... never got a single RP or follower on Blue. I'm still debating if I really WANT to rp as her, at least on Tumblr, knowing how toxic the fandom can get around the Diamonds...)

most importantly, are you having fun playing each one of your muses? Pretty much! Especially Dove, Srentha, Leyla, and Raven!~ Raven's wit and clipped verbiage can be tricky to for me sometimes, but all it takes is a little tlc on her dialogue, and it doesn't slow down my enjoyment one bit. :} And when I'm in a Pokemon-hyperfocus mood, writing the Pokemon team is ALWAYS a blast! (Especially the Pokemon; their personalities are so dynamic together.) With muses like Lapis and Blue, and even Kary, the mood for their emotionality waxes and wanes, but I don't write for them unless I'm in The Right Frame of Mind to KEEP UP with them, you know? I never push myself in an rp until it's not fun anymore; at least I know where my writing burnout limits are.

Phobia and Evangeline are both sadistic, and when you're a compassionate person, that can be very hard to write out in the painstaking detail of my style. But sometimes my mind just Won't Shut UP about 'Vangie unless I WRITE IT OUT. Which is a good exercise of course, stretching my horizons and all that, and I do love writing the drama and conflict they stir up.

But beyond the momentary discomforts, I'm just so eager to explore their lives and minds and adventures, so yes, I absolutely DO have fun writing for each and every one!

[hellforcertain]

i like how one of the few reasons i can pinpoint when about i got sick is that i can use snowmageddon (late 2014/early 2015) as a starting point 

this is really long and i’d appreciate you not reblogging this but i don’t think i’ve ever written any of this out, and i would keep it private somewhere else but i kinda want to feel idk. validated? i never really put it into words like this until now. would also appreciate if you respond to this in some way (either a like or a reply) if you read it.

[cw for suicidal ideation in one part; skip the paragraph that begins “at some point that spring...”, after i talk abt my grandpa, if you don’t want to read it. it’s referenced in the next paragraph too. idk if there’s anything else i really need to warn for, but tell me if i do.]

i injured my knee thanksgiving 2013, when i was a sophomore. i was hiking in the hills around my parents’ house with some of my cousins, and it had snowed recently so everything was slick and slippery, and at one point my feet slid out from under me and i tumbled down an incline until my right knee connected with a tree. that thankfully stopped my fall but like, at what cost.

it was so bad that jo had to half-support me walking the couple blocks from our dorms to tufts to have an x-ray done in december 2013, which had been recommended by emerson’s health center (which was a joke; when i saw... i think an NP, she had to flip through a book until she found the “knee” section before she examined me). i couldn’t attend several classes of one of my courses the rest of that semester bcos it was in the building furthest from my dorm and i could barely walk there; i barely made it to the final. i never heard from the health center about the x-ray, so i figured that at least it wasn’t broken. it still bothered me but it became more manageable than it had been (not entirely tho bcos iirc i failed or didn’t complete two courses spring 2014, but that was also bcos of the undiagnosed adhd).

i moved directly into the studio from my sophomore dorm in may 2014, and lived there until june 2015 (which encompassed my junior year until i dropped out in november 2014).

my parents wanted me to fly down to spend a week in florida with them in august 2014, and i think this is what happened: the morning before i left on that flight i rolled off my futon badly and banged my bad knee against the (hardwood) floor really hard. i was in pain for a lot of that trip -- flying certainly didn’t help matters -- and when i got back it didn’t get better so i bought a cane a couple weeks before classes started back so i could get used to it before i had to use it to get to class.

(at the end of that trip, my mom forced me to let her clean out my ear with a qtip, jabbed it in too far and fucked up my ear, and then the next day i got on a plane back to boston and the issue got so bad i couldn’t walk down the street without holding onto a wall. i don’t think my eardrum burst or anything because it was better by the time i actually got to see a specialist about it and i haven’t suffered any permanent effects from it as far as i can tell, but at times it felt like it.)

i bought a cane in mid august 2014, and i know bcos i ordered it off amazon. the florida trip might have been in mid august, so there’s a possibility i banged my knee on the floor before the florida trip, and bought the cane when i realized i wouldn’t be able to walk in florida without it.

i know i reinjured my knee in august 2014, and i know i bought a cane then, and i know i also damaged my eardrum in august 2014 when i was in florida (well, my mom damaged it). i’m not sure exactly what order those took place in.

it got worse as the semester progressed, and i started doing less and less well in my courses, because not only was i dealing with the still-undiagnosed adhd, i was also in a lot of pain all the time. i remember making the conscious decision to stop going to my spanish class bcos the professor would have us stand up and walk around the class and talk to each other a lot and i couldn’t manage standing up for even that long, and i was so scattered and so fucked up from middle & high school that i couldn’t ask for help and the easier option was just to stop attending. i made the decision to go on medical leave late that semester -- probably in november or december 2014, i can’t remember which. there was the death of a family friend who i had been close to around that time too, and i was in too much pain and too swamped with trying to catch up on all these courses i hadn’t been attending to fly to florida and attend her funeral, which was another stone on top of all the others weighing me down (when i told my parents i had dropped out, i told them that it was her death that sent me into a breakdown, which wasn’t entirely a lie; i just didn’t tell them i’d been having a breakdown for months up until then).

i started getting sick and feeling pain that i couldn’t explain at all -- sure, i knew why my knee hurt, but i didn’t know why my joints were stiff and painful, and why i was hurting randomly separately from the joint pain. it got so bad that some days i had to crawl to get to the bathroom, and it was only a handful of steps away from my bed. i stopped doing my t shots bcos it was too much effort when i hurt so much already -- it got to the point that my periods started back up again, though i only had them very rarely. i think the only thing i managed to do was go to my shifts as desk guy in one of the dorms on campus.

when i went to visit my parents at some point, my mom thought it was just bcos i needed to get in shape and lose some weight to lessen the stress on my bad knee. tbh i don’t know when that happened, i just knew it was when i was still a student bcos i went to the gym once with a friend and it was really fuckin painful and terrible and just made everything worse. she might have said that when we were in florida, actually. idk.

living in the studio meant i lived totally alone, but jo was there a lot bcos i had an extra bed (i’d bought a loft bed bcos i wanted one and had never had one as a kid and this place had high ceilings, but i’d also bought a futon for cheap off a guy who was moving out of the building, which turned out to be a real blessing when i couldn’t make it up the ladder to the loft bed; when jo stayed at the computer labs late working on projects, they’d come crash on my loft bed bcos my building was near campus and by the time the labs closed, the t had stopped running) and i made kinda-friends with the security desk guy

that fall and winter i’d say i saw delivery guys more often than i saw my own friends (bcos i literally couldn’t handle the walking that grocery shopping would have required, and i didn’t know abt grocery delivery services at the time. idk if they were even a thing at the time). all “groceries” were bought at the cvs down the block, bcos they had things like butter and shredded cheese and tortillas (i ate a lot of tortillas that year) and pre-cut fruit, and the walgreens across the street from cvs had frozen burger patties that i think set off the smoke alarm every time i cooked them; anything else i ate was from delivery guys. i dissociated a lot that year, very very badly, and some delusional tendencies i’d had in high school came rearing back up. 

bcos i couldn’t do much else i threw myself into this site (esp on one of my sideblogs), and if you look at the amount of stuff i reblogged/posted then vs now you’d see that i had p much no other life. which was... not good but i also made some really good and valuable friendships then -- including em so like, not everything from then turned out bad. sadly, a lot of irl friendships stagnated, and it wasn’t the other party’s fault. i also played a lot of skyrim bcos it was one of like. two games i owned for my ps3, and even though the rest of me hurt a lot, my hands were surprisingly okay.

(i also went through a series of nb identities and pronouns that never really fit bcos that was the heyday of tumblr’s whole “if ur a trans man ur evil for wanting to be a man, u should be nb instead” phase and i was far too concerned with all that bcos like i said, i didn’t have much of a life outside this site at the time.)

i don’t recall much of thanksgiving or christmas breaks at my parents’, except that i got my name legally changed during i think christmas break 2014. iirc we had to reschedule my flight back to boston bcos i had to wait an extra day to be able to get everything done that i needed to, and bcos we needed to change the name on the flight. i remember crying at some official bcos they said that they couldn’t get me a new... driver’s license maybe? until a couple days down the road, but i had to be back for college by then and i have everything else done please just let me get my license today. and since it’s a small town in the south they totally folded, thankfully. i was just very stressed at that point, i hadn’t even meant to cry at them.

then snowmageddon happened in early 2015, and classes were cancelled and roads were closed and the t like, half shut down until like may. it was especially bad for me because most of my friends were in allston and they couldn’t exactly get downtown to hang out with me much. iirc, my friend who was an RA left college around the same time i did, maybe a few months before? i think i was still working desk shifts when they left, so it had to have been before i did.

march 2015 was good and bad: during jo’s spring break (and what would have been mine if i had still been in college), we escaped the snow and took their car on a roadtrip down the blue ridge parkway (well. that was the plan but it was closed thanks to the snow, so we drove down I-95 and ended up in asheville nc like two days after our leisurely road trip started. i turned 21 on that roadtrip, and so no longer had to rely on my friends to buy me alcohol, which was nice. we celebrated it at this local restaurant in whatever town we’d stopped at that night, and all i remember is that you could buy steaks from a counter at the front, and the drink i ordered for myself was incredibly orange.

my grandpa also died that march; he’d actually been dying since february, but i didn’t go to see him then; jo and i were in knoxville tn at one point, and my parents wanted me to drive up since knoxville is only like three hours from my hometown, but by then he was p much in a coma so it wouldn’t really be visiting, would it, and also it would have been mega unfair to drag jo into that mess. iirc his funeral was that april, bcos there was a funeral service at my parents’ church where he occasionally preached at, and then one at the mennonite church he attended after moving in with us, and then they had to get him to ohio for the big service (which was the one i attended).

(this was the grandpa who thought i was possessed by a demon for being trans so like. lmao. didn’t mourn him much then, and still haven’t.)

at some point that spring, after the spring break roadtrip and grandpa’s funeral, my dysphoria got really really really bad, bad enough to trigger the most suicidal episode i’d had since middle school/high school. it was a culmination of the negative thoughts and feelings i’d been having since i moved into this place (which had only worsened as i got sicker and when winter hit). i didn’t do anything, but i had to call a friend every time i left the building for like a week so that i didn’t walk into traffic. 

i moved out of the studio at the end of april or may of 2015, and went back to live with my parents for a bit because the lease for my text apartment didn’t start until september 2015 (since i was living with friends/former classmates who were still in school and weren’t going to be in boston until classes started back up in september). moving out was an Ordeal bcos my dad came up to help me and brought my sister, who hated boston so much that she was on the edge of a panic attack the whole time, which made her impossible to deal with. at one point we got into a fight over something super minor and it escalated and ended with her screaming at the top of her lungs, in my empty echoey studio that had the door open so god and all my neighbors could hear, that she wished i was dead. this was not the first or last time she expressed this sentiment, and was tame compared to some (like the time she said she’d stab me in my sleep). i told her i’d been suicidal weeks earlier and she left the building to go take something to the car and when i didn’t follow her (bcos i was cooling off), she freaked out and had a panic attack all over our dad. she didn’t tell him why, or that she was at fault, and when i came down a few minutes later he ripped into me until i stopped and told him what she had said. so, yknow. a fun final memory of that apartment.

i think that was when my mom finally acknowledged that my pain wasn’t just a weight thing, and that i should actually see someone when i got back to boston. my symptoms got worse too: i started having horrible pain in my hands, to the point that i couldn’t move them, and none of us really knew what to do. i found some compression gloves online and begged my mom to let me get them but she kept refusing because she was worried i’d mess my hands up worse with them, and i still don’t entirely understand that train of thought, because i was like, screaming crying at them because i was hurting so so much, and some compression gloves couldn’t have been worse than that (and i finally pointed out that they were gloves; i could take them off if they were hurting more than helping). they finally relented, thankfully. 

june 2015 was the first time i met em in person; i decided, almost on impulse, to take a week and drive down to florida and spend the week with them bcos they were living with their grandparents at the time and their grandparents were going to be out of town for like a week. they played a lot of fnv on their ps3 while i played don’t starve on my laptop. the place had a guest bedroom that was technically mine, but i don’t think i ever used it except to get changed; we tended to pass out in weird positions on em’s bed. we didn’t get much else done bcos i discovered that florida weather + my joints wasn’t a great combo, but it was still an amazing week.

that same summer i also got fitted for my knee brace. i think that same summer i got some treatments from a sports medicine doctor my mom is friends with. possibly steroid injections? i’d have to ask her. 

i moved into the medford house with some friends in september 2015, and dear lord was that a mess. the roommates were great, don’t get me wrong, but the house had mice we had to take care of, there was a gas leak at one point bcos the stove’s knobs didn’t work right and didn’t shut off the gas when we turned them off, the boiler was a broken leaky piece of shit that would shut itself off every like two days bcos the water level got so low (contrast the place we’re living in now, where we had to go put more water in the boiler maybe like. three times all winter), the landlord and his wife were total creeps and freaks -- he would only respond to my email even though my roommates tried to open lines of communication at various times, and one time i woke up with her in my bedroom bcos she was checking the radiator (which wasn’t working bcos the boiler wasn’t working and they refused to fix or replace it until winter was over) and she had the audacity to chew me out for my space heater. i was fucking sick, lady. give me a fucking break. the best thing, hands down, about the medford place was there was a corner store with a good deli across the street, so i could go in my pajamas to get a good sandwich and a box of fries. great place, great people.

i got referred to a rheumatologist that fall, and my first appointment with him was in november (i also at some point... i think in spring of 2015 started using testogel, because i wouldn’t have been able to get the stuff for injections refilled while i was in kentucky. i don’t remember when i switched back to injections but i did at some point while living at the medford house, which i once again was terrible at keeping up with).

at the time, my deadname was still on my insurance bcos even tho i’d changed my name earlier that year, i was still on my parents’ insurance and my dad wouldn’t fucking change my name there and wouldn’t give me the information to do it myself. my rheumatologist took one look at me and how i was responding to being called my deadname, and he asked if there was another name i went by that i’d be more comfortable with, and i was rarely called my deadname again after that (and only by a couple nurses until they got to know me better). ofc that stopped being an issue when i switched to my own masshealth plan (in early 2017 i think?).

he listened to the whole mess of a story, felt my joints, and then poked at the middle of my chest (which i now know is a common fibro trigger point). when i recoiled back bcos that hurt far more than it should have, he said “yep that looks fibro-y.” i don’t remember if i suggested fibro and/or rheumatoid arthritis, or if he did. he prescribed me some medications -- including tramadol, my savior that winter. i’d been taking tramadol already bcos i’d had some left over from... i think lasik, and a friend had given me some percocet for very bad days. i was so unused to the tramadol back then that it’d throw me for a loop, occasionally make me nauseated, and also knock me out. it was p great.

back then i’d have to ask my roommate danny to open like, water or pop bottles nine times out of ten bcos i just couldn’t. now, i can’t remember the last time i had a serious problem opening bottles on a consistent basis. there have been some bad days where i couldn’t, but it’s not like that’s all the time.

i improved in fits and starts after that; i can’t remember all the meds i tried with him, but i’m sure they’re in a file somewhere that i could request. i still wasn’t doing anywhere near good, but it was better than before -- if only, maybe, bcos i wasn’t dealing with this totally on my own. but you know what didn’t help? that house’s terrible fucking boiler. we’d wake up some days in the middle of winter and it’d be in the 50s inside the house, and i was the only one who knew how to fix the boiler (i’d taught the roommates, including the subletter we got when danny left for a semester in LA, but apparently the only one who could go down the stairs to take care of it was the fuckin cripple).

spring 2016 was awesome bcos i’d gotten a ps4 and destiny for christmas, and the subletter we got had two cats who i loved and who loved me, and everything was beautiful even tho i definitely still hurt a lot. i can’t remember much of note during this period, health-wise. it was mostly more of the same, but on top of it was trying to balance playing a shooter and having shitty hands that didn’t want me down anything with them.

summer 2016, when i was still in the medford house, em came to visit me (among other people -- they roadtripped up over the course of a couple weeks) and spent several days there. i had plans to take them to do touristy stuff in boston, but that never happened haha. and like we don’t have a solid date on when we got together bcos long-distance stuff can be fuzzy about things like that but that visit was our first kiss.

in september 2016 i moved into the allston apartment, and the less i say about that the better. i started back with a therapist in like february 2017; i hadn’t been to a therapist for years by this time, bcos my previous therapist had moved to a different office in the network and then left the area and i had never gotten back in touch with her after she moved to the other office. i also started on testopel, because injections were once again not working out.

that apartment was p much like living in the studio bcos even tho i had two roommates, it was an apartment i’d found in an emerson group centered on finding roommates, so i hadn’t known either of them beforehand; i wasn’t really living with them; we just happened to share some common spaces. health-wise i improved some as we found medications that worked for me, but i was still not doing even close to good. i had trouble going grocery shopping even though the grocery store was only a handful of blocks away because various parts of me would hurt too much to handle it, and by the time i was halfway home i would be almost dead. so, yknow. not a great time overall.

in september of 2017 i moved into this house with em and jo, and it’s been a fantastic decision bcos im finally living with people who care about me and will kick my ass into shape if i need it. em finally made me go to my rheumatologist and be like “so i know i’ve been saying i’ve been fine but i moved in with my partner recently and they’ve pointed out that im doing less fine than i said bcos i’d brushed off a lot of things as normal that they’ve told me are not, in fact, normal”, which was when he prescribed flexeril, and i think that’s helped me more than almost anything else has. holy shit. im taking a higher dose than my father (who’s like 6′1″ and has at least a hundred pounds on me) can handle but it’s working for me. i also went back to t injections a couple months ago bcos i didn’t enjoy missing everything for a week bcos it took forever for the testopel spot to heal, and i couldn’t sit on the spot until it healed; plus now that i’m living with em, they can remind me when i forget to do my shot. also, after a lot of fits and starts and panic over the last few years, im finally talking with a surgeon about top surgery. 

overall like, i went back and looked at a lot of posts i made several years ago to get dates for this point, and i can barely recognize myself in some of those posts. my illnesses had ground everything else away, until all that was the physical pain and the emotional anguish, and i wish i could tell my past self that it gets better: that he’ll find medications that work for him and he’ll move in with people who he loves and love him back, and that it’s not all sunshine and rainbows here in 2018 but it’s so much better. 2015 me definitely deserved that.

and that’s true: that i’m not cured, and i still have very bad days, but i’m also having more and more good days -- days that were unthinkable back then. i’m on medications that help me physically, and i’ve been diagnosed with adhd and am on a medication that helps me mentally. when i flew down to kentucky earlier this month to attend my sister’s graduation, my dad remarked on how much better i was walking and moving just compared to thanksgiving. i can’t even imagine comparing myself now to myself a few years ago. i think i’m going to save this post so that when i’m feeling down about being sick, i can remind myself how far i’ve come, and how much i’ve weathered so far; whatever storm comes next, i think i’ll be able to handle it.

idk where i was trying to go with this, but it ended up a super overly long chronicle of the last few years. so uh. yeah. like i mentioned before, i’d appreciate if you show that you read all this, either with a like or a reply, esp if you get to the end