#whoops i made myself sad

[almightyshadowchan]

MXTX-tober Day 4: Idol

[emarie-stone]

Forgive my long delay in writing, but I have been simply overwhelmed with work. I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air. Mina Murray to Lucy Westenra, 9 May

[impercre]

OPTIONAL ELABORATIONS:

SONG: NEED YOU TONIGHT BY INXS *There's a very raw, desperate quality to the song as it dances between being kind of flippant and vulnerable. Which is all very Feyd. FLOWER: Anemone *The flowers that bloomed after Adonis was killed by a rival. GREEN FLAGS: This doesn't even tie into my 'Feyd has a crush on Irulan' headcanon. He's also really into @voicestm's Usagi. More broadstrokes he tends to like people with qualities he lacks or thinks he lacks. RED FLAGS: Being controlling, calling him things like 'darling', 'beautiful', etc. Really anything that reminds him of his Uncle. Also not a fan of any kind of PDA weirdly. I feel like someone who he can't get a reaction out of too might be deal breaker.

tagged by: @tapalslegacy tagging: EVERYBODY

[blackjackkent]

Clicking around randomly in our little hell room opened up a new conversation with...someone; I can't really see anyone that we're talking to but it's definitely happening.

I'm getting big vibes of the Gauntlet from DAO.

Say what?

LOL.

Okay, I'm not entirely sure what this means. I'm *assuming* it means you can add extra people to your party beyond the ones you already have? EDIT: Springy has informed me that it's just a last-minute party reshuffle if you want to do one, and also that if you do said reshuffling, someone is going to end up stranded in the hellplane and the game never makes it clear that there's any way for them to go home. XD

So we're not going to change things up here, but I am going to go down the list quickly, because I'm quite amused by some of these as options; Caden really has a pretty narrow list of people he'd actually like to fight alongside and most of them are already with him.

Anomen. Caden met Anomen in BG1 for like a mission and a half and then he was summarily dropkicked out of the party to make room for Minsc and Dynaheir. He was a Super Honorable Paladin guy and he and Caden were pretty bemused by each other at best.

Cernd. Last seen after (according to my liveblog records) handing his son off to unrelated druids and wandering out of the party.

Dorn. Met very briefly in BG1 and was a complete jerk iirc.

Edwin. ???? Fuck that guy.

Haer'Dalis. LOLOLOLOLOL. Can you imagine? Last seen stalking off in a cloud of aggrieved thespian pride after Aerie tossed him to the curb for trying to fight Caden to the death for her heart. I don't know what he would do on being summoned into a hell dimension by Caden, but it would involve a long speech, a dramatic flourish, and the most incredibly stupid actions possible.

Jan. We met this guy once and saw him get carted off to prison; he sat in the journal for quite a while and Caden and I never gave enough of a shit to follow up on it.

Keldorn. Aw. Paladad. If it weren't for the 6-person party limit, Keldorn would be one of the few that Caden would be tempted to pull into this whole mess. He liked Keldorn, in spite of his faults. (That said, we left him trying to recover his broken relationship with his wife and Caden wouldn't want to interrupt that, especially not given how likely it is they all might just die in here.)

Korgan. Literally who? (Wait, was that the evil dwarf that we had in the party for like 0.5s in BG1?)

Mazzy. YAY MAZZY. The only person in this list Caden would unequivocally bring along if the game allowed it. Best halfling fighter buddy, good head on her shoulders, gets along with everyone in the party, and is voiced by Jennifer Hale. 10/10 no notes.

Nalia. Good kid, naive. Caden wants good things for her, but those things do not include fighting at his side in hell.

Neera. Oh god. Neera aggravated Caden to no end on the 3-4 occasions they spoke together, each of which was about 5 minutes at most. Basically all he knows about her is that she has a history of making weird magic shit happen for no reason. Not someone he wants lighting every fuse in the place.

Valygar. We met Valygar for one mission back in the middle of BG2 and Caden liked him well enough but that was a very surreal quest and he really doesn't feel the need to extend the relationship.

Viconia. LOL. Everyone remember the conversation where everyone shouted at Caden simultaneously for like ten minutes?

And then finally, scrolling down the list...

o.o;

Oh.

:'(

I have no intention of either bringing him or abandoning him in a hell plane, but I did click on this with the intention of reloading just to see what happens, because a) Caden could use closure if some is available, as Yoshimo's betrayal was one of the deepest cuts he ever endured and b) that boy is DEAD. So I'm curious how this would be addressed.

:(

I think Caden actually did make this request, not really expecting anything to come of it, but hoping against hope that perhaps Yoshimo's shade could be brought back just long enough for them to...talk? Reconcile? But even the boy with the god of death inside him has limits to what he can command.

[amos-evans]

I have to imagine that such an appointment was, if not an honor and privilege, at the very least an exciting opportunity, so it is unfortunate that Dr. Evans died in January of 1848 and was therefore unable to attend the convention

[jenipedia]

You ever make yourself cry with your own OC playlist?

[xstarrynightskyex]

Okay but has he kept up his elvish? Or was that the sort of thing that slipped by the wayside in his time with Cazador?

Because yes shenanigans are good but also imagine the existential crisis he’d have if he realized he hadn’t had a proper conversation in elvish in so long he didn’t remember the words he wanted to use

Things we have established as underrated potential for shenanigans: Astarion's legal career

Things not yet established as potential for shenanigans: Elvish as first language

[egophiliac]

C'MON TO THE THEATER!

I love these guys so much. forget NRC, I want to attend their terrible disaster school for disaster children that might actually be plastered on top of the smoking remains of an actively sinking ship. I may or may not actually learn anything, but I will have the time of my life.

[raelle-writing]

Past Jin:

Present Jin:

Copper Phuriwat Chotiratanasak as "Jin" Jinnaphat Sukmek - Dead Friend Forever episodes 1 + 5

[unclewaynemunson]

Something’s off. Steve notices it as soon as he gets home. It’s nothing major, really, but something’s definitely off. There’s this weird silence in the hallway, instead of the usual metal that Eddie is basically blasting 24/7 whenever Steve isn’t home. There’s the absence of Olly showing his little face around the corner of the door to the kitchen upon hearing Steve coming in. There’s also the absence of some crazy scent explosion emerging from the kitchen like on a usual Tuesday evening.

Steve calls out Eddie’s name, questioning, not sure if he should be worried.

“Here!”

He releases a relieved breath and gets into the living room. Eddie is his usual messy self, wild curls hanging over one end of the couch and feet wrapped in colorful socks over the other, with Olly curled up and purring on his chest.

“Hey there,” Steve says. It isn’t until he comes closer to lean down for a kiss on Eddie’s forehead, that he notices something is most definitely very, very wrong. Eddie’s eyes are swollen and red-rimmed, salty traces covering his cheeks and used tissues scattered all over the floor next to the couch. His hands are clenching into Olly’s fur, his chest is heaving unsteadily.

Eddie looks up at Steve, blinks once, twice, to get the water out of his eyes, a fresh tear rolling down his cheek.

“What happened, love?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his own, creating their familiar pile of Olly-Eddie-Steve, his thumb stroking over the back of Eddie’s hand.

Eddie takes a deep, shuddering breath, squeezes his eyes shut for a second. “Wayne’s sick.”

XXX

The thing is, Wayne has always been the strong one. Always. He was the arms that caught Eddie, the hands that wiped away his tears, the lips that kissed his bruises better despite his prickly beard. And now he’s - frail. There’s simply no other word for it. And Eddie doesn’t think he’s ready to be the strong one yet. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. Of course he knows that Wayne isn’t some immortal being, that he’s lived a life of harsh physical labor and cold Indiana winters, of canned beans and breakfast cigarettes since he was only a boy... But this is different. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. And Wayne knows that, too.

“I always thought it was gonna be my lungs that’d do me in,” he tells Eddie.

Eddie never thought of his uncle as an old man. But now, sitting next to his hospital bed, both his hands clasped around Wayne’s, he sees it. He sees the lines on his forehead, the near-white shade of grey of what little hair he has left on his head, the tired look in his eyes, the age spots scattered all over his arms...

Eddie releases one of his hands to wipe over his eyes. He feels another pair of hands squeezing his shoulders from behind him, reminding him that he isn’t alone, that there’s still someone else who can be the strong one when Eddie can’t.

He takes a breath.

“Nothing’s doin’ you in, man,” he manages to choke out, strengthening his grip on Wayne’s hands. Those strong, calloused hands, that have lived through so much. The hands that caught him countless times. The hands that held him tight whenever he needed it. The hands that wiped away his tears. The hands that fixed his van. The hands that ruffled his curls. The hands that held a fishing rod like a pro. The hands that tirelessly drilled holes in walls and assembled furniture when Eddie moved out of the trailer and into the apartment he and Steve got in Indianapolis. The hands that are currently resting limply on top of white hospital sheets. Frail hands.

“Ed...”

“No, I’m serious,” Eddie says. He’s always been good at running. No way in hell he’s gonna stop that habit now. "You're gonna get better. And when you do, we'll take you back home, okay? Not to Hawkins - to your real home. You, me, Steve and the van, right? You’ll see the mountains again. We’re gonna drive all the way across them, get you back to the other side, ya hear me? It’ll be this great adventure, just the three of us. We’ll stay there for as long as we want to. And then we’ll go back to Indy, and you’ll move in with us, and we’ll take care of you. And you’ll be there when we get a real house, you’ll be there when we get our first little nugget, and every next one of them, and you’ll get to play with them and see them grow up and see us goin’ grey and gettin’ old and wrinkled and fat, and you’ll be there when Lord of the Rings gets made into a movie and when world hunger gets solved and when gay marriage becomes legal and when we get our first black president and when The Police reunites... That’s how it’s gonna go, you understand?”

There’s this look in Wayne’s eyes, this look that completely terrifies Eddie, and he can’t do a thing except for collapsing onto his uncle’s chest, breathing in his scent and crying against his shirt as Wayne’s hand tangles itself in Eddie’s curls. And it doesn’t matter - it doesn’t matter that Wayne is weak and sick and lying in a hospital bed. Because he’s still the strong one. He’s still the hands that catch Eddie when Eddie breaks down. Even now.

XXX

They should’ve known that Eddie would be right. Of course they should’ve known. No God can turn down someone as stubborn as Eddie Munson - not even a God Eddie doesn’t believe in.

Wayne missed the mountain air, the perfectly prepared corn fritters, the drool in the voices around him, the natural hospitality. It’s good to be back, to get to share his roots with his boys. But it’s not like coming home. Home is where his own parents moved him some fifty years ago, with dreams of a better future that didn’t quite hold for them. Home is a rickety trailer park that doesn’t have warm water most of the time. Home is the woods around Hawkins, the rolling hills, the chilly autumn wind. But most of all, home is the smile of the boy who took him here. It’s long dark curls and big brown eyes that are currently tearing up because Wayne is standing next to him and getting stronger by the day and very much alive. It’s the memories they share, of Wayne opening his arms to catch Eddie when he was so much smaller than now; of going fishing at Lover’s Lake in the weekends; of cigarette stubs and beer bottles and metal boxes that Wayne chose to not know the contents of; of laughter and crying and fear and comfort and a whole shared lifetime, a boy growing up and still needing to be caught again and again and again.

And Wayne still does it. He still catches his boy. His two boys, now. And he’s planning on keeping to do that for a long, long time.

[reinvent-and-believe]

on the other end of the spectrum, my second flawless find in this search is Yoga by LLusion & salem ilese. it also isn’t what i’m looking for and won't work for my fic but it IMMEDIATELY went on the roy kent playlist. (i never would have anticipated finding an angsty song about yoga and yet the universe has provided, love that)

tell me this isn't roy kent:

“I've been meditating/Waiting patiently for me to change, but/Yoga doesn't work/I'm no less of a jerk/Still angry at the world as I’m reaching for the floor”

and

“Think I musta lost my zen/When I take a deep breath in/Shut my eyes and count to ten/I can only get to seven”

and

“Yoga doesn't work/I wish it was the cure/But it just makes me sore/Might be broken, but I'm hoping it's that yoga doesn't work”

okay friends, hit me with your super specific song recs, it's crowdsource fic title time again!!!!!

do you know any good lyrics (or full songs) that in some way pertain to yoga? could also be more generically along the lines of stretching/flexibility/bending, but something yoga-specific would be ideal. got anything for me? please drop me a reply/ask/dm/reblog/whatever and i'll love you forever and ever

thanks loves 💜💜💜

[broodygaming]

Man oh man, it confuses me, very genuinely that ppl dont think that Beau and Yasha were a good end pairing. That they don’t see it. Idk. I catches me off guard every time I read it because, to me I suppose, they go together like... Chocolate ganache. You heat the milk, pour in the chocolate and stir and stir.... and you’re staring at it and there’s awkward chocolate chunks and it’s just milk with chocolate, oh my god I’ve messed it up, it’s sticking to the bottom omfg ive wasted ALL this milk holy shit I’m an idiot and - Bam. Suddenly. One last little stir and it magically transforms before your eyes into smooth rich brown chocolate ganache.  

Idk. For me. They are this fascinating twirling of strong forces that at some point just meld together to make this beautiful thing neither of them could have ever even visualized. The dichotomy of two violent women who have been battered by the world. Told over and over how Destructive they are. Who have destroyed each other in all these crazy situations? Who have been lauded as machines of war and bastions of retribution or cast out as “too much to deal with”..... These two women who have been taught over and over again that EVERY single fucking hand that touches.... strikes.... So strike back and first before they get the fucking chance.... 

Gods be damned do they deserve gentleness. 

And not to say there’s not many places you can find that. But the idea of standing there, holding your broken parts and looking around to find someone to help you... Not fix you, just help you hold them all... And the peace someone might feel handing them to someone whose hands have known pain. Someone whose hands are scarred and battered and tough. Someone who won’t be shocked to see so many broken parts. Someone who is carrying their own armful and a few more of yours won’t be a huge burden. Someone who fucking gets it. You know? I just think of Beau sliding into that hot bath and thinking of the kind words. Not even just kind words, but the acknowledgment and the sincerity. 

The... “I see you. I see you. And I’m not looking away. I will carry these pieces with you, if you might also carry some of mine”. 

[the-storyteller78]

Little Troy

TW: violence, death, child death

Troilus knows of the prophecy that sings his name. It is a promise of life, of victory.   

But he also knows that every time he looks in the mirror, he sees death.

[blackjackkent]

A few random words to pick from (picked with a word generator). Characters/pairings of your choice!

Noble

Sacrifice

Illusion

Seaspray

Shiver

(Drop a word in my inbox and I’ll write three sentences of a fic based on it)

Niiiice. :D We'll do a different character for each cos why not. XD

-----

Noble - Jaheira

Jhessem, it seemed, pictured the nobility of Tethyr as storybook figures, gold-robed and gold-crowned, something to be aspired to by a child from the dirty streets of Baldur's Gate. She begged Jaheira for stories of the place where she was born, and imagined herself returning to resume the family line amid the tall buildings of the nation's capital. Jaheira never knew for sure how to answer her, for her memories of those people held no glory at all; they were dim, shrouded by the smoke of a burning city and the sound of screams.

Sacrifice - Rakha

Sceleritas, when he made his ill-omened appearances, always seemed to describe her murders as gifts - sacrifices to appease the monster in her head, or some force beyond it. It was one of the things Rakha hated about him. There was nothing sacred in the blood on her hands; it was only the stains left by a raging animal beyond control or salvation.

Illusion - Karlach

Surely it had to be her imagination, when she thought she could look up and see Hector watching her longingly from across the camp - just her mind playing tricks on her, making her see what she wanted to see instead of what was really there. She'd learned a long time ago to mistrust hope, and the vainest hope of all was that, after everything, that monk with the soft voice and gorgeous grey eyes might ever feel for her what she was starting to feel for him. But her hopes were stubborn things forged in the fires of hell, and this one lingered, a warm touch at the back of her mind no matter how hard she tried to push it away.

Seaspray - Wyll

He liked to sit beneath the bridge to Wyrm's Rock and fish off the sea passage, smelling the salt spray and watching the ships drift past. He never caught anything, but that wasn't the point. He liked to hear the sailors shouting from the decks, and the cries of merchants from the South Span, the breathing lungs and beating heart of the city his father had raised him to protect.

Shiver - Minsc

He did not remember being a statue, nor did he fear what had happened to him; Minsc was a creature of the current moment, always looking forward, not back. If anything of the experience lingered, it was a memory of terrible itching as the curse finally broke and the stone stiffness sloughed away from his skin. It meant nothing, certainly, that some nights he would wake shivering violently with a sense of bone-deep cold and the feeling that he could not move his legs.

[flybykime]

The Last Night on the Moon

"My Dear Starlight, Long we have waited for this day - since the stars went awry on the Little Moon's birth. We always knew one of us would be called upon to ensure one of our colts would see another sunrise. You were right of course. The stars called too strongly and the gods were far too fickle. But oh, how brightly the young ones shine even now! I hope they can forgive me my impulsiveness one more time. I am so proud…. Curse the sky pin and think of me. ~ Enigrim"

From the last known writing of Enigrim Shadowander, Knight Seneschal of Bloodstone & member of the Companions of the Noble Heart

My aberrant/celestial sorcerer gnome/svirfneblin from the last campaign we finished. An adaptation of the 2E Bloodstone campaign that goes to level 100 because you need to kill Orcus. Enigrim was a strange from the jump and only got stranger the more time passed. He has extendo limbs and so many eyes and just wanted to reach the stars. Then he basically adopted a centaur and a pixie (who had been human), married a different centaur, and had a child who was marked by Selune.

Needless to say, a TIME was had. (lol)

Ultimately, he made it thru the fight with Orcus but sacrificed himself removing a wasting curse from his pixie not-son. He felt immense guilt over accidentally becoming supernaturally evil - the one thing he'd sworn to avoid since childhood - and was certain this was his duty. Trying to say goodbye in the last few hours before the rest of the party had to go wound Tiamet to ensure the death of Orcus led to some great RP with everyone else, including the short letter above which Enigrim handed to his best friend to deliver.

[see-arcane]

Thinking of an alternative reality in which today Jonathan is helping Mina and Lucy prepare their monthly 100 steps plan for the perfect halloween 🎃 party in the 31th, instead of... confusion and pain brought by tragedy.

You know they would have had the best costume party. Everyone's nuptials would be out of the way, honeymoons ditto, and household preparation would all be finished for Harkers and Godalmings alike. Time for a celebration without all the stresses of a wedding day or anyone being sick or attending a family figure's funeral!

While they may not throw themselves as fully into the eerie aspects of Hallowe'en with death being too raw and close for the main couples, they can absolutely get behind the idea of a masque--a revelry whose only obligation is to dress up, let go, and enjoy themselves through some games and treats and dancing. Mina, Jonathan, leave your duties for a day, would you, and let us see about a tailor for our looks!

I wonder if one of Lucy's last non-despairing thoughts before things slid downhill was the daydream of a party on the far end of the wedding flotsam. One where she and all she loved were well and at play, as close to children as budding adults can be. She would be lady of Arthur's home, no mother's rules to follow. It was perhaps one of the lighter subjects Arthur chatted about with her before the nightmare began in earnest. Talk of costumes and canapes and oh, can't October come any sooner, Arthur?

It will be (would be) such fun...