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the-habitat-sysblog · 2 months

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guy who has the doesn't-feel-real disorder: idk why but i don't feel real :-(

guy who has the major-memory-loss disorder: idk it just feels like there's a gap where yesterday is supposed to be :-( weiird

guy who has the different-person-every-hour disorder: woa h guys idk why i said that yesterday that doesn't rly sound like me :-(

DID: the disorder you know you have but it still surprises you every time! only $9,99 (childhood not included)

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starry-bi-sky · 15 days

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Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well:

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents.

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill.

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.)

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one.

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself.

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.)

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.)

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe.

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal.

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking.

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter.

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind.

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous.

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own.

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t.

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward.

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”)

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell.

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his.

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it.

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now.

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own.

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother.

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten.

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands.

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely.

It is a fast dream.

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods.

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him.

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal.

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train.

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.)

—---

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again.

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person.

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.)

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird.

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is.

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off.

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom.

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.)

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

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

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #danyal al ghul au #amnesiac danyal al ghul au #songs in order of the album: the hartebeest / harpy hare / and the hound / neath the grove is a heart #musician danny has my heart and soul #yes this danyal IS an alternative danny from the other au. an au where things were a little better :) but still sucks #implied good mom talia al ghul #danyal is a momma's boy send tweet #dpxdc ficlet #dpxdc prompts #dp x dc au #dp x dc fanfic #danyal is sTILL five years older than damian in this au #no beta no edits we die like danny fenton #poc danny fentons #i didnt know where to end this :(( i was gonna go on but i blanked. i thought about going into his relationships with his rogues and so on.#but that felt too much like trying to just increase the word count rather than actually writing?? if that makes sense #ugh im gonna have forgotten to include things and im gonna be kicking myself later #morally ambiguous danny whoo! we love to see it #since this was just for fun it doesnt really go into it all that much other than like. it happens. and that danny realizes he's dangerous #phantom in a hazmat suit? nah phantom looking like an assassin >:].#danyal al ghul with damian and his mom: 🥰🌸✨#danyal al ghul with everyone else: 👹🔪#am i heavily implying that clockwork had smth to do with Danyal’s amnesia and appearance by the cabin? 👀 maybe #not enough danyal al ghul aus where him being an assassin actually. has some kind of affect on him

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librarium-of-horrors · 1 year

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one thing that I don't see a lot of people talking about in regards to fictive heavy systems is that if you are stuck in the same unsafe situation that caused your trauma, you are going to be predisposed to split more.

if you are a minor with access to the internet, you are more likely to use the internet as a coping mechanism to distance yourself from the situation you are stuck in. And if you are still actively being traumatized and use media as a form of escapism YOU WILL HAVE A LOT OF FICTIVES.

fakeclaimers that see fictive heavy systems and immediately assume that they are faking are just being belligerent at this point. And the argument falls apart even more when you consider the fact that a fair amount of systems are also adhd or autistic and will be even more likely to turn to hyperfictations or spins during times of stress, causing them to (potentially) split off of that thing even more then a nt system.

anyway tldr: fakeclaimers are silly and don't do adequate research and fictives I love you mwahh

#blurry so no sign off #osdd system #osdd #osdd1b system #did systems #did system #dissociative amnesia #anti endo #actuallydid #actually osdd #i have no idea who i am right now so here have a rant #fictive positivity #anti fakeclaiming

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outtoshatter · 1 year

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Fractured Starlight, featuring THIS absolutely drop-dead gorgeous art from @seanchaidh7, is now completely posted, start to finish, thanks in large part to @missanniewhimsy for giving me a little push to just post the last few chapters today!!! :D

#sterek #sterek fic #sterek art #fic #art #i still cannot stop looking at this art #amnesia fic #magic au #witch Stiles #gia writes #i am just so excited the whole thing is out there for everyone to see now!!

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reegis · 8 months

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Your design of loki got me to listen to the bifrost incident in full and GOD IS IT AMAZING

Your loki design is very cool and I love her lots

thank you!!!!!!!

they really just left her by herself to wander around by herself like that though huh…

#sigyn: huh my beloved wife whom i watched die is actually alive! but has horrible amnesia 😩😩😩 ah well the grind waits for nobody #see ya after this prison break babe #asks #my art #haha hi i am bac k #also giving her digitigrade peets bc i was too much of a coward before but theyr so cute

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fucky-oureyes · 2 days

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btw in malevolent episode 1 the absolute 100% funniest interaction to me is when john tells arthur to move parker's body to the right, and immediately afterwards yells "YOUR OTHER RIGHT". one of these bitches doesn't know the difference between their right and their left and tbh both john and arthur are dumb enough for it to be them

#malevolent #john doe #arthur lester #yes i am yet again relistening to malevolent. thanks amnesia

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lazycranberrydoodles · 7 months

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mxtxtober day 2: rain

@vampirefaun’s fic Thousand Gold Come-And-Go Stew is the canonical Hua Cheng memory loss extra to me so go read it if you haven’t already! I’ve wanted to make fanart of it for a while, and even did a sketch in August (below the cut) but finally got around to it because of today’s prompt :)

the sketch i made in august ↓. the colors on this were already pretty harmonized so i colormapped them a little bit more to use as a palette for my final drawing.

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rackartyg · 7 months

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astarion doesn’t remember who he was before cazador turned him because who he was then is not relevant to who he is now. healing from trauma doesn’t mean going back to who you were before it—that’s impossible. healing means making the best of who you’ve become

#the obsession with the ‘pure’ ‘unspoilt’ pre-trauma self is part of the sickness #astarion doesn’t display any of that in canon — his amnesia frees him #and i am really happy for him! god i wish that were me.jpg #she speaks #arctic plays bg3 #astarion #bad brains blogging

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birb-catto · 9 months

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The Human Who Can Never Forget

Cale: Raon, I am someone who cannot forget

Clopeh: CALE-NIM IS GOD!

Cale: …But I really don’t know that guy

#cale: suddenly I have amnesia #cale: who are you where are we who the hell am I #rip cale #trash of the count's family #tcf #lout of the count’s family #lcf #tcf novel #tcf meme #tcf humor #tcf incorrect quotes #cale henituse #clopeh sekka #tcf cale #tcf clopeh

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yuri-is-online · 9 months

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The Rains Have Ceased (Riddle, Cater, and Idia x Yuu)

You have been having strange dreams lately. Every time you go to sleep you se the same set of flashing images, a carriage ride, a crumbling castle under a ink stained sky, ending in the jaws of a monster. The pain you feel from the flames makes you wonder, on nights when you are alone in Ramshackle with Grim, if those dreams are less fiction and more of a memory.

You are not the only one who has those dreams. There's another, laying awake in his bed, hand clutched tightly over his frantically beating heart trying desperately to hold the fraying edges of his sanity together. How many times has he done this? How many times has he tried to hold onto the last fleeting traces of warmth in you with his cold, unworthy hands.

Again. He loves you, that is the one thing that refuses to change no matter how many times the world is reset. He loves you, he has no choice but to try again.

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu,more of this here (ie which boys would go insane trying to save Yuu from a time loop), heavy angst, hurt almost no comfort, borderline yandere behavior, major character death, references to murder, everyone is self destructing. If this made you feel something you can check out my masterlist here.

Riddle

He handles things extremely poorly when there is no guide book or rules he can follow. If it is made clear to him that there is no way of saving Yuu, that cosmic law has decreed they die, then he has no real choice but to let them... unless there is some way to take their place. Riddle is determined to be the very best at everything, and he is a bit of a brat when it comes to things that make him angry, but he becomes desperate help his friends when they find themselves in situations he feels that he has caused. He can accept that there is no way for you to be together, the chances of that were admittedly already pretty slim; you are from a different world and his mother almost certainly has plans for him he would find difficult to ignore. What he cannot accept there is no chance for you to live, he'd even be content to watch you fall in love with someone else just please, please live. He cannot bring himself to confess to anyone what it is he is trying to do, Trey would absolutely try to stop him, Ace and Deuce wouldn't accept your fate, and he doesn't know how Cater would react. He satisfies himself with telling you he loves you every time he dies in your place, whether it is in your arms or not.

Cater

TBH he is not really someone you can rely on in this situation bestie. Not because he doesn't love you, he's past denying that, but because Cater already doesn't want to dwell on what things could have been. His dorm uniform has a voice line lamenting you aren't in Heartsabyul but brushing it off because there just isn't any use in wishing for things. With each reset he spirals further and further, it gets harder for him to keep his mask in place. Why do you keep dying if he isn't going out of his way to save you? And why can't he stop caring about you? Is it because in spite of everything he still loves you? Cater is actually pretty good at dealing with people and making plans, he could maybe keep you alive a little bit longer if he helped. He eventually lets that thought slip to Lilia, who believes him purely based on the fact it's him saying it. Lilia does his best to help, picking Cater's mind for observations of each loop and trying to make a plan. He wonders if he is even worthy of you if he cannot make a plan to save you, if you will hate him if you realize how passive he has been. No matter how many times Lilia points out that you have loved him in every life time, or that he can say he has been passive all he likes but he has been going out of his way to watch over you from the shadows, Cater refuses to accept that he is just as faultless in this as you. His smile and optimism are determined to stay gone.

Idia

So. The last time someone in his life died in front of him he turned them into a robot. While you were dying in front of him the thought of making a new Yuu did cross his mind, he almost had a stroke from how pleased he was when he woke up before orientation for a second go with all his memories in tact. Ortho is brought into the loop immediately, as is Styx. As mixed as Idia's feelings are about the family business, he recognizes this has something to do with blot and that Styx is his best bet of saving you. Chapter 6 already proved he doesn't have much... emotion about conducting experiments that deal with blot, as a method of coping with his current situation he starts to try and gamify the time loop, or view it as an experiment. He won't feel bad about imprisoning the overblot students or deciding to take the time to study Grim. Ortho is probably the one who suggests kidnapping you before Crowley can bring you back into the mirror chamber and keeping you safe... somewhere. Maybe he takes you back to Styx, maybe he just keeps you in Ignihyde with a robot child soldier guarding you at all times. He doesn't care if you hate him, well that's not true. Idia want you to love him, he wants you to play games with him just like you used to. But something in this world is trying to kill you, and until it is gone he cannot let you out of his sight; a flower that's doomed to stay in the underworld, forevermore.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #cater diamond x reader #idia shroud x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #every time i write one of these i feel like i am loading a shotgun #anyway play amnesia: memories

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creatrixanimi · 3 months

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One time i somehow got on a redit thread on will wood bc i looked him up or something and Im constantly thinking about one person I saw getting really aggressive about his fans liking him for queer reasons and they said something like "he's a cis het 30 year old man he probably doesnt know what 'so gender' means" and like ok yeah being parasocial is not good but saying that he doesnt know what "so gender" means is laughably wrong. The guy has a song about gender identity and also at one point dressed like this:

Like theres discouraging parasocial weirdness like assigning stranger's sexualities and then theres what is essentially gasligthing people into thinking they just made everything they like up about a musical artist they like. For some reason.

#I know he's kinda wishywashy about what makes him uncomfortable and stuff so people are kinda hyper aware of that #and people sometimes take that and go even further & designate themselves as fancops but gaslighting baby queer fans isnt it #also ive seen the ways the ppl he hangs out with dress this guy probably knows about tumblr furry discourse #anyway i am always thinking about that thread it haunts me #i understand he has some weird fans but also people noticing obvious themes in his music arent like. overstepping. thats normal.#also idk anything about him and his sexuality so he could be cishet but also like. u can be cishet and still be gender nonconforming #also also why is everyone over the age of 30 designated as internet lingo illiterate. did they all get amnesia or something.#me

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toontownportraits · 5 months

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ohhh my god you're trapped in a role deriving never ending guilt and misery out of you that you've found no way out of? should we throw a party? should we invite toby fox

[anniversary art for part 2 !! ron staedtler you will always be famous to me]

#the bagel draws #fanart #inside job #inside job netflix #inside job fanart #ron staedtler #inside job anniversary #ty to memey in the scc server for suggesting the song!! song is amnesia was her name by lemon demon #imgonna schedule this for the morning since its 1 am rn LOL. my neck hurts #i put on ij in the background and now its on appleton. guess who's shedding tears tonight babyyyyyyyyy #ACTUALLY. im posting it now. see my staedtler art boy

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