#look away!!! spoilers in the tags!!!!!

[churroach]

Still figuring out how to paint feathers

[clownowo]

yeah so it turns out "aibou" is. not. really used for romantic partners.

[bugsinshoes]

BOOK OF BILL SPOLIERS UNDER THE CUT

fiddauthor nation i have (tried) to fix your photo.

i actually love them it hurts

[weirdglassthing]

ouaw doodle dump!!

[lightbulb-warning]

today i offer you prompts 11-20 for isat month!! ignore your calendar THANKYUUUU <3

[almea]

"But what if she isn't Ruby anymore when she comes back out?" "Maybe... that's not for us to decide."

[catamaris]

there's no wishes left, there's no pain left

[a2zillustration]

We lived.

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

[screechingfromthevoid]

nothing (besides everyone ignoring Orym's deal) has made me angrier than watching Dorian keep up this facade. Dorian Storm has always been a type of mask he's worn. At first he called himself a liar because of it. The happy go lucky bard was a way of escaping for him. He was escaping Brontë so he created Dorian. He didn't believe he was Dorian. Until the Crown Keepers made Dorian real. And for a while, he really believed he was Dorian. That he has this new family and new life and he could be who he truly wanted to be.

And then his brother came back and made his problems Dorian's problems. Until he had to put Brontë back on. Because even if the Crown Keepers + Cyrus called him Dorian, he was Brontë. He had to be who his brother thought he was.

When Cyrus dies, the thread to Brontë had snapped. He was going to see Orym, back to the Bells Hells, back to Dorian Storm. But the foundation of Dorian had shattered. Dorian was created in order to run from his place in life, family, Cyrus. Now he was gone. The Crown Keepers had fallen apart. His friends fell through his fingers and he couldn't do anything to stop it. He was once ready to side with a betrayer god for these people and now they're in the wind.

So Dorian shows back up to Bells Hella and he's completely broken. The foundation of both of his lives has been thoroughly rocked. No brother. No Crown Keepers. The two things that forged Dorian Storm. He wears that mask so fucking well. Because he still wants to believe in it. He said it live on stage that he should "believe his own backstory". The one he made up. The one where he was a bard.

He wants to be Dorian so bad. He spends all his money on Orym, he spins the bottle so he can kiss his friends, he flirts, he blushes and giggles at compliments. Exactly how Dorian would, should.

But he wears the gold of the heir. He has a festering animosity inside his chest. He doesn't sleep. He's thinner than he was. He doesn't sleep. He sicks abominations after their creators. He talks to God's without an ounce of self preservation, daring them to strike him down. He does not acknowledge them as they taunt him.

The god of beauty and magic calls him beautiful and he does not smile.

[bel-by-the-sea]

[oc] reap, sow

[chippuyon]

[clownowo]

love thinking about what happened behind the scenes when kazuma was assigned to be barok's apprentice

[waalkr]

ISAT spoilers so many spoilers oughh avert thou eyes

anyways feeds you all my little post game au with my traumatized little guy going back home in a crucial moment, being saved by Isabeau (who loses the vision Sif got back now wahoo) and their friends and, going to therapy,

[someawkwardnerd]

i love outer wilds <3 i love experiencing the death of the universe <3

[woolying]

i cant believe dead trio isnt gonna be a trio for much longer !!!

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

you're a diver from Fontaine, one of the best in the entire Court, and are known far and wide for your ability to collect whatever resource people need- that's where most of your pay comes from, collecting beryl conches and romaritime flowers for jewelry, perfumes, and the like. but you also enjoy diving as a hobby, spending most of your time off in the water and enjoying the sights, your Vision allowing you to breathe easily under the waves. there's something about floating weightlessly in oceanic world that helps you feel so calm and at peace.

it's during one of these leisurely dives that you encounter something- or someone- incredible.

you won't lie, you were swimming too close to the Fortress of Meropide. yes, it's technically forbidden, but you couldn't help but investigate the deeper waters and caves around it after so long of staying away from the area! as long as you stayed away from the searchlights, no one would suspect a thing, so you swam down into the murky gloom. it's more difficult to see as you cautiously glance around, slightly on edge- until you come face-to-face with an oddly glowing light, seemingly emitting from a faceted crystal. you don't dare go towards it (you've had enough experience with ocean creatures to know it very well could be a lure), so instead it decides to come towards you, and an enormous slinking creature is revealed from the darkness. your blood runs cold, all instincts screaming to get away, run, but the monster merely chitters curiously, tilting his horned head and blinking at you quietly.

hesitantly, you raise a hand and wave, and the beast's singular eye widens in awe as he waves back.

you come back to visit the odd creature again and again after that day, becoming adept at avoiding the lights of Fontaine's prison. the monster- Childe, as he told you via carvings on the wall- was incredibly sweet despite his intimidating appearance, greeting you with a delighted chirp and a hug, always extremely gentle with you. he follows you as you explore, protecting you and bringing you trinkets that have sunk to the ocean floor, nudging your hands for head scritches. through his gestures and warbling tones you deduce that he lives in a cavern further below, one you refuse to go to- it makes your skin crawl, for some reason. rarely does Childe come to the surface, but occasionally he'll accompany you if he doesn't want to see you go, wrapping his scaled tail around your legs and whining until you give him a kiss on the forehead. he loves you, and you love him, and he was your special secret.

until you began to fall mysteriously ill, your breaths coming out short and ragged and your head filling with cotton clouds. at first you think it's just a common cold, but it doesn't go away, only getting worse over time. the doctors you visit don't seem to have a cure, merely telling you to rest until you feel better, which you never do, no matter how many hours you sit on the shore with Childe's head in your lap. his worry for you makes you feel a little happier, caressing his cheeks and whispering hoarsely to him as he whimpers, claws dancing over your cheeks in an attempt to hold you back. but it hurts and you cough again and again, growing weaker by the day for no reason other than fate's cruel story.

you don't know that Childe is a monster from the Primordial Sea, gradually wearing away at your strength and life, until it's too late.