#split friend group | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Total funding amounts to $125.3M.

mochinek0 · 1 year

Text

Daminette December 2022: 15-Side Effects Ch.9

FIRST / PREVIOUS

True to her word, Marinette avoided Adrien, at all costs. She even sent a text to Alya saying she wasn't allowed near Adrien and to not invite him anywhere if they planned for her to go.

"Come on, Mari, it's not like he would know." Alya chastised.

"I gave my mate my word." Mari growled, "Don't make me a liar. If Adrien is there when I show up, I'll levae and I will tell him. Likely, he'll ban me from seeing you as well."

"That's not fair!" Alya shouted, "We've been friends forever and-"

"But he is my mate and my only pack member! When you have a pack, you'll know what I'm talking about." Mari replied, "I have two classes with Adrien and we're already getting my schedule rearranged."

"So, we won't see you at lunch?" she asked.

"You haven't had lunch with me in months." Marinette sighed, "I've been meeting Damian for three months."

"Adrien-"

"Stopped being my friend the moment I became a Beta." Marinete declared, "You leave with Nino and he runs away from me as fast as possible. I've been alone since I matured."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Alya pressured.

"What was I suppose to say? Alya, instead of going on dates with your boyfriend, can you both stay with me? Can you force Adrien to continue being friends with me?" Marinette asked, sarcastically, "The moment he started ignoring me and cancelling our video game session, barely looked a me, barely spoke to me, I knew I wasn't anything in his eyes."

Alya bit her lip. She had hoped that by leaving them alone, they would finally get together. It had only driven them apart.

"Don't worry about it, Alya. I can hear you overthinking through the phone." Mari giggled, "Just make separate plans with us and it'll be fine. I think I can convince Damian it will be okay as long as he comes along. Anyways, I'm gonna go. Maman is making onion soup tonight and my head has been hurting. I hope I'm not coming down with anything. My stomach has been in knots and I really don't want to pass anything to Damian."

"Okay, Girl." Alya sighed, "Go eat. Get some sleep and I'll pass the message to Nino. Talk to you at school."

"Night, Alya." Marinette stated and hung up.

But Marinette never showed up to class. After a week, Alya was getting worried and Marinette wasn't answering her texts. The next week, she went straight to the bakery.

"Alya?" Sabine questioned.

"Is Marinette okay?" she asked, "She's not answering my calls or texts. She's not in class. She mentioned feeling sick and-"

Sabine laughed, "Marinette is fine. I suppose Damian is keeping her occupied and comfortable. She won't be in school for a couple months. You'll probbaly be able to see her again in five months."

"Fi-Months?" Alya shrieked, "Why? Is he holding her prisoner?"

Tom smiled, "The opposite, actually. He's protecting her and making sure she's comfortable. We'll be grandparents by then."

'Marinette is pregnant!'

TAG LIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

#daminette december 2022 #daminette december #alya cesaire #marinette wayne #adrien agreste #split friend group #seperation #sabine cheng #pregnant marinette #alpha #beta #abo #mochinek0 #beta alya #beta marinette #alpha damian wayne #alpha adrien

73 notes · View notes

chalalalalalalalalalalala · 4 months

Text

fuck it i want to throw my hat into the ring: although bolas “won” purgatory (as much as anyone can win the game of a sadistic voyeur who calls you sinners and forces you to murder your friends and loved ones), it was team GGN that really SURVIVED it, and who overcame it. They were the ones who had moral codes, who only did what was necessary against their friends and who, even after their separation, had the most people on the boat back to the island when all was said and done. The Eye never broke their minds like Bolas, or their spirits like Soulfire. They played the game and got out of it when it was over and I don’t think it’s appreciated enough how much they took it into their stride.

I would say more but I can’t articulate my sheer amount of love for this team despite the fact they got “terminated” (I don’t think you can ever truly destroy a team with that much chemistry lmao - see q!Etoiles, q!Fit and q!Bagi in the resistance, q!Mouse and q!Fit’s interactions on and off Egg Island, the “big boy” nickname… and that’s just from a huevito perspective!!) , and I honestly think that it’s a testament to all of their characters that they made it to the boat to escape. q!Fit carrying q!Bagi, q!Roier acting on survival instincts and fighting his way to the boat despite leaving behind his family, q!Etoiles getting there at the last second, bringing up the flank behind his team,,,, i’m so normal abt them you’ve got to believe me im sooooo normal

#qsmp #qsmp purgatory #green gay ninjas #qsmp etoiles #qsmp fitmc #qsmp ironmouse #qsmp bagi #qsmp roier #sometimes companionship is found in your tragic group of friends that got split up into different teams #and that’s ok #not entirely sure if this is understandable LMAO

289 notes · View notes

bonefall · 6 months

Note

considering spiderleg is like *that* and squirelflight being diehard fire alone i cant imagine them being friends in BB like they were sort of in the canon books. were they or did it disolve after time passed and spiderleg got more into traditional/thistle law. also who were her other friends? i saw daisy was in another ask but who else (really eager to know who booed at mousefur and thronclaw lol)

So to begin with, Squirrelflight is in an odd place, generation-wise. She is born while Firestar is on his quest with Brokenstar, and grows up in a period of peace and prosperity.

Unfortunately she keeps failing her goddamn assessments

So while Leafstripe is a fully trained Cleric, Sorreltail recovered from being hit by a car and graduated, and Ashfur tried to hold out for her for a while before moving up, Squirrelpaw is here absolutely eating leaf litter with her wrecklessness

Goldenflower, her mentor, even tries to tell Firestar that she's not being vindictive, just in case he got the wrong idea. He assures her that, no. No he understands <:/

So Spider, Shrew, and Squirrel end up as apprentices together. There was a time where they were really close, getting in trouble in spite of their three strict mentors. Bad influence trio, all of them coming from respected parents and doing their best to embarass them.

That only started to change when Squirrelpaw went on the Great Journey, but then returned just in time to see Shrewpaw die. A lot of things were different, now. Squirrelpaw came back exalted for being on a holy quest. Spiderpaw had watched a lot of his clanmates die. She was spending more time with Brambleclaw; he had become very protective of his little brother, Birchkit.

They had both grown in a flash. Hard times will do that to you.

During the Great Journey, Spiderpaw was really close to the other Clan apprentices while Squirrelpaw hung out with the Sundrown Patrol. Spider looks back at this time in his life with a lurch in his stomach that he can't put into words.

He was there when Paw Soup was made. Talonclaw and Smokefall were friends of his even more than they were friends of little Birchkit. Spiderleg just left it behind when they got to the Lake, where his little brother never could. Clan loyalty, strength, honor... all that. He felt like he had to make a choice.

As a person, Spiderleg is torn in many directions by all of the things that happened to him. His head-of-construction father, his educator mother, his friend who won status by breaking the rules, three dead siblings before his warriorhood, the destruction of his ancestral home, the journey that challenged everything, his mentor Thornclaw, the backfired meeting, ardor for Daisy, crashing down with unwanted kits...

His consistent trait is that he's easily swept up in whatever fills him with the most passion, tossing himself into things until a bubbling sense of disgust makes him break it off. Regardless of if it was the good thing to do or not.

Religious euphoria and self-flagellation just seems to stabilize that impulse, for him.

The last time he was friends with Squilf was during their vigil upon reaching the Lake. They did it together, because they were both long overdue. He thought about Shrewpaw, and wondered if she did too.

But neither one of them broke the silence between them. They still haven't.

#better bones au #BB!TNP #BB!Squirrelflight #BB!Spiderleg #Ppl don't talk enough about that horrible feeling of being at the deathbed of a friendship #Knowing it's dying in front of you #But not knowing how to say goodbye to it. Or if you can stop it.#But the worst part is that even when it dies it hangs in the air #Is it secretly alive? Or is it just haunting you #There's a history between us. Is the look of recognition in your eyes like a shared glance at a grave?#Or is it a silent prayer that what we had can come back from the dead #But too much has changed.#If they hung out past that vigil it was always with that tension in the air.#Until Squilf broke it off with Ash and their friend groups irrevocably split #Though any chance of reconnecting was definitely torched by that Backfired Meeting

114 notes · View notes

speedlimit15 · 7 months

Text

sometimes i read about other peoples family dynamics and i’m like… you guys are casual with each other and nice to each other without a hint of obligation or being mean-spirited? you guys have a group chat?

#my family is like a split up friend group that 1 person (my mother) really wants to stay together at any cost #i see them on christmas Or thanksgiving Or easter. lately none of the above

32 notes · View notes

junk-thrillz · 8 months

Text

This update feels like a dream. It's the sort of update I used to hope I'd wake up to, every single Friday. Literally the DAY before the update was posted I was hoping for ANYONE from the Ed/Cody/Jeff/Lisa/Violet circle to be in the update, for us to get to see their narrative voice, and then not ONLY were we given that but Ed's mental narration refers to them with they/them pronouns. I'm convinced I've woken up in a parallel universe. Holy shit. Best update ever

#paranatural #pnat #ed burger #this is ignoring all of the isabel stuff obviously like my brain is perfectly split between her and ed right now #but this ed development is definitely the upside to the update #and phew boy god. you know what they say about queer people naturally finding each other?#well so far we've got cody and ed so that's two strikes #hoping to god the rest of their friend group turns out to be queer HAHA #not to imply that using they/them pronouns automatically makes you queer but that is definitely what im hoping is going on here

37 notes · View notes

donnieisaprettyboy · 16 days

Text

“gay son or thot daughter” ❌ BROKE

“boypussy or girldick?” ✅ WOKE

#it’s a 50/50 split in my friend group #ftm #lgbtq #trans #trans man #transgender man #transgender

14 notes · View notes

ehlnofay · 5 months

Text

It’s not until she hears Sissel’s knees hit the floor that Efri is jolted back into her body.

She blinks, whipping her head around. Sissel is kneeling, bracing a palm on the ancient stone pavement, at the barrier – no, the barrier’s gone, it’s just Sissel on the floor. She lifts her head and meets Efri’s eyes; her hair is wispy and wild, the little plaits meant to keep it neat come loose and tumbling, her eyes wide. The barrier's gone, but still, her pale face is lit up blue.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She doesn’t speak loudly, but it echoes in the great stone chamber.

Nine, Efri doesn’t know.

She blinks again, looks down at her hands, clinging to the metal stick so fiercely that her joints ache. (Her own stick, her nice wooden one, is still on the floor somewhere, where it slipped out of her grasp when she hit the wall.) The lumpy heavy end of it, the clobbering end, is still resting on –

Not on. It’s in the thing’s head, fitted neatly in the opening of its dented helmet, the horns spiralling over the floor. There’s a tooth, perfectly preserved, by Efri’s foot.

One by one, she unwraps her gloved fingers from the handle of the metal stick, letting it drop to the floor with a clang so loud it makes her wince. Kazari is nosing at her side. (When did they let go of it? When did they get so close? She must have missed that. She feels out of the loop. Her heart is juddering like fish on a line, battering like some frightened trapped thing at her ribcage, and her breath is coming fast and heavy.) Absentmindedly bringing up a hand to press over her sore shoulder, she says, “’M fine. Not too – barely touched me.”

Kazari turns and spits on the floor. Efri blinks. She does it again, tongue lolling out of her mouth, face very disgruntled – and oh, Efri gets it. She does not glance down at the thing at her feet; she doesn’t need to, she knows what its arm looks like, chewed almost to pieces even through its banded armour. (If she hadn’t been so busy being scared of it, that sight might have made her a bit scared of Kazari. But not now, when they’re trying to hack and spit the taste of dead man arm out of their mouth.)

Efri unclips her canteen from her belt and holds it out. “Here,” she says. Her voice is rough. Her heart is racing too much to let constructing sentences be easy. “Not much, but –”

Kazari stands still while Efri tips half of the remaining water onto her tongue, and then Efri watches her swilling it around in her mouth, trying to bathe all of her teeth in it, before she spits it again on the floor at the dead thing’s feet.

The water is still clear. That’s something, at least; the dead man was too old to still have blood in him. Or maybe he was embalmed, drained of it hundreds of years ago, thousands.

“Are you okay?” Efri asks Kazari when they’re done, because they were the one doing most of the fighting, who was closest. They tip their head, shift their weight – wince when they put weight on one foot. Their lips peel back from their teeth. Their clothes on that side are singed.

Efri points it out. “Your robe,” she says, which makes it sound much fancier than it is. She’s too tired to think of a better word. She rubs a hand over her face, pushing the hair back over her forehead, says, “I’ll reinforce it for you when we get out.”

Kazari noses at Efri’s shoulder – the shredded fabric of her dress, the fraying edges stained with blood. Efri says, “I know. I’ll have to sew that up too.” Over her shoulder, she calls, “Kazari’s leg’s hurt, I think.”

“There’s blood on you,” Sissel replies. She peels her hand off the floor and leans back on her heels.

Efri touches her shoulder again. “’S fine,” she says. “Just a scrape. The blood’s drying already.”

It’s really sore, actually – the flesh abraded and tender, an ache sinking deep into the muscle – but it’s normal sore, the kind of sore you really should be after being thrown into a wall. It doesn’t feel sprained or dislocated or anything like that. Just like it will be bruised a whole rainbow of colours come tomorrow.

Kazari noses at it again. She leans too far forward and falters on her maybe-hurt leg – rights herself, wincing, and rolls her shoulder. It gleams, just for a moment, and she nearly stumbles again. Efri puts out a hand to steady her. (It doesn’t really accomplish anything – Efri’s strong, but she’s not that strong – but it’s the principle of it.) “What was that spell?”

“Pain relief,” Sissel says from behind her. “I think. Doesn’t actually fix anything, but.”

“You’ll be okay ‘til we find someone?” Efri asks, and Kazari nods. She presses a hand against their shoulder and nods back.

They both turn to look at Sissel, then, who’s just kneeling on the floor, sitting on her heels.

“You all right?” Efri asks her.

“All right,” Sissel confirms. She doesn’t look at them. “Didn’t even come near me.”

She’s staring.

Efri crosses the floor to stand with her. (She needs to lean on Kazari – her legs are too wobbly, and she doesn’t want to touch the dead thing’s stick, doesn’t want to look for her own. Kazari limps a little on their sore front leg.) There’s a moment of total, humming silence – all of them still and staring, necks craned back, looking up at the thing.

Whatever it is.

It’s a ball. Big and blue and shimmering, it floats above a wide crystalline dish set into the floor, spinning on an axis. Just spinning and spinning and spinning, endless motion. Its smooth surface is cut through with dark wavering lines, etched with lettering, and it doesn’t quite glow but it doesn’t not glow, either, the light moving across it silkily, like clouds in a blue sky. It looks like something that should be humming – a low pitch in their ears, an eerie shiver dancing over their skin – but it’s silent. Inert, maybe, but for the spinning.

“What is it?” Efri asks. Her voice cracks as she speaks. She looks down at Sissel’s face, staring as though mesmerised, illuminated by the room’s dim lighting – the fires that should not still be burning down here, the luminous not-glow of the ball.

Sissel says, “I don’t know. Something important.”

Hovering above the dish, it spins, and spins, and spins.

“Is it what the ghost was talking about?” Efri asks. She tilts her head and squints at it. It doesn’t – well, it looks strange and unearthly and powerful, but it isn’t doing anything. And it hadn’t been clear what the ghost was talking about, exactly, according to Sissel, just that it was something important – but what else could it be?

Sissel, still watching it, shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I think so.”

Efri watches it with her, brushing a bit more hair out of her face. It’s sticking to her sweaty forehead. She feels a drip of not-dry blood running down her arm under her sleeve.

Kazari is staring at it too – just as confounded as the rest of them. Efri sees the light in their irises shifting as the ball spins.

They’re not learning anything from staring, the ball staying strange and mysterious as ever, so Efri raps her knuckles against her sternum to steady her breathing (it’s slowed a bit – not normal, but closer to it) and climbs up onto the stone rimming of the dish. Kazari, behind her, lows in consternation; Sissel catches her breath, a noise like a creaking door. “Careful,” she says.

“Promise,” Efri replies, and places her feet very, very carefully on the glassy blue flooring. Nothing happens. She doesn’t step on the dark curved lines as she treads toward the ball in the centre, slow and wary as if she were approaching a skittish animal. Nothing happens.

She reaches out, and, with just the tips of her fingers, she grazes the ball’s surface.

Nothing happens.

It’s cool to the touch, and smooth, like polished metal or not-frozen ice or delicate glasswork. It continues to spin gently under her fingers, warming her glove with friction, no smudges left on its clouded face.

It really feels like there should at least be a tingle running up her arm, a strange and unfamiliar current, a spark. But it’s just Efri, standing with an arm outstretched, pressing her hand to a ball.

“It’s not doing anything,” she reports, and Sissel clambers up onto the dish with her, fitting her palm to its gently hovering underside. Kazari balks, begins pacing agitatedly. Efri frowns. “Why isn’t it doing anything? Shouldn’t it be doing something?”

“It’s important,” Sissel says definitively. There’s ancient dust on her fingers, but none of it seems to transfer. “It’s something really special, I think.”

Efri shifts restlessly. She shifts her grip and tries to grab onto the dark ridged curves ringing its surface, but they slip easily away from her grasp as though her touch was no barrier at all. “But what does it do?”

Sissel shrugs.

Behind them, Kazari lows.

Efri drops her hand and grabs Sissel’s wrist. “C’mon,” she says, and when Sissel frowns at her, “We’re not going to learn anything about it this way. We have to look for clues!”

Kazari makes a more impatient noise. (Efri thinks she found a clue.)

Sissel gives the ball one last searching look and lets Efri tug her away, off the weird blue dish and down to where Kazari stands on the stone floor, at the head of the table where the dead man sat. Efri sniffs loudly and tries not to think about it too much. The table is smooth polished stone, worn a little away with time; Efri trails a gloved finger over the edge and directs her attention to where Kazari points with their chin.

There’s something carved into the surface, the edges blunted and shapes softened by however many years it must have been since it was put there. Efri squints, trying to make it out. She has to stand right up on her tiptoes to get the right angle to see much of it in full.

“That’s not letters,” she says eventually, frowning. She’s pretty sure she knows her alphabet well enough by now to know that. “Is it magic?”

Sissel shakes her head. “I don’t know what it is. It’s not like magical writing I’ve ever seen.”

Efri looks at Kazari, who also shakes her head. “Maybe it’s a different sort of lettering,” she theorises. It must have been written a long time ago, if it’s from back when the city had people. Onmund’s been reading all about it for ages, and he’s told her a bit – Saarthal was the city of Atmorans, populated by proto-Nordic people. All complicated history stuff. But they weren’t quite the same as Nords today, he said, so it stands to reason they had different writing, too. They’re supposed to be uncovering and cataloguing artifacts (at the thought, Efri glances back at the hovering ball and swallows an inane bubble of laughter) so she suggests, “Maybe you can copy it and we can show it to someone. I’m sure there’ll be someone at the College what knows what it is.”

Sissel, also standing on her toes, nods dutifully. “What will you do?”

The chamber they’re in is cavernous, and about empty but for the ball in the dish, the altar and chair, the body on the ground. “I’ll check him,” she says, and points. “See if he has anything on him that’s special.”

Sissel follows her finger and grimaces.

She digs out her note-paper and her stick of char, and Efri assumes it’s clues time, but when she turns she feels a hand grip her elbow. She looks back over her tattered shoulder at Sissel’s face, her furrowed brow.

“Promise you’re really okay?” she says, voice anxious and solemn.

“Promise,” Efri says, twisting her arm to touch her friend’s hand. Sissel presses her lips together and lets go of her arm.

Kazari trails after Efri to look at the dead man.

First thing is the metal stick. It’s magic someway, Efri knows – he waved it and threw her into a wall, flung spells with it – but she’s not sure how. Doesn’t know enough about enchantments. Didn’t need to, to use it; when Kazari clamped down on his arm she just ripped it from his grasp and –

She doesn’t quite exactly remember, actually, except for the bitter tang of adrenaline in her mouth and nose, the horrible grunting and scuffling sounds, the heft of the stick in her hands. Impact, over and over and over, against something that had a little more give each time.

Efri scrubs a hand over her mouth and grips the handle of the stick. It takes effort to wrest it out of the thing’s face, caught as it is by the edges of the helmet, and when it’s finally yanked free it’s – actually not as bad as she might have expected. There’s no blood, and the corpse was so desiccated it already didn’t even really look like a person anymore, so it registers less as someone with horrible violence done to it and more as a really gross art piece. It’s not nice. She doesn’t like the twisted, gaping mouth, teeth embedded wrong-ways in its tissue and scattered like coins over the floor. And one of the eyes, which had glowed unearthly blue, is now a dull, rotten black, squished like a plum in its socket.

It's worse the more she looks. She sniffs and turns away.

“This is magic, right?” she asks Kazari, testing the weight of it in her hands, the cool surface of the metal, and they nod. “A good artifact?” she adds, and they nod again, emphatically. Efri sets the stick aside and kneels.

It wasn’t wearing any clothes, really – or if it was, they rotted away. She touches the rusted armour gingerly, tries to avoid brushing her gloves against the shrivelled skin at all. Whoever it was had expensive taste, it seems – there’s jewellery in a shockingly well-preserved beard, pendants around the neck, armbands. Efri asks Kazari if each thing is enchanted. No to the armbands, no to the beard-ring, and then, pressed against the wizened chest where the flesh contours to the ribs, she finds some kind of necklace, sharp-edged and thrumming. Kazari nods to that, and, face scrunched up like an old fruit, Efri reaches around the ancient neck to slip it off.

She tucks it into a belt pocket with the tripwire necklace they found at the weird wall.

“Done,” Sissel says. She folds her paper and slips it into her own pouch. Her footfalls on the echo-y stone floor as she approaches the body for the first time are almost silent. “Did you find anything?”

“Necklace,” Efri replies, watching Sissel’s face pinch at the sight of him. “And – stick.” She scoops up the metal stick and holds it out. “He did spells with it.”

Sissel looks at it warily. “Is he a draugr?” she asks, glancing back down at his mashed-up face.

“I mean,” Efri says, “he’s got to be, right?” She’s certainly never seen a draugr before, but what else could it be?

(Calling it a draugr makes her shiver, the set of her shoulders quaking. She’ll stick to dead man.)

Sissel shudders. She reaches out to grip the handle of the stick, and Efri’s not sure if she’s taking it or just trying to keep herself upright. “I can’t believe that happened,” she says. Her voice sounds, suddenly, fragile. “I can’t believe we’re alive.”

“Me neither,” Efri says. She presses the tip of the stick into the ground so Sissel can lean on it, stands a little unsteadily.

Kazari, with a hushed murmur, telegraphs something. Efri recognises the head incline of understanding – she’s familiar with that word, that idea – and, after a moment, the flickering ear of doubt.

“They’ll have to believe us,” she says with conviction, because she means it. “We’ll show them. They’ll see for themselves.”

Kazari presses their nose to her head.

Efri clasps her hands together. “We’ll go tell someone now,” she declares – though it’s easier said than done; they were lost in the ruins ages before they even found the crumbling wall, the halls, this horrible wonderful chamber. But they’ll get un-lost eventually. They’ll get out eventually. Surely. They have practice enough with walking. “But first – help me find my stick.”

#little girl has a kill count now!! more at 11 #for context: I altered stuff leading up to the discovery of the eye #efri and sissel went off to play in the undiscovered halls of this ancient archeological dig site #on the grounds that efri has a great sense of navigation and they'll find their way back to the group no problem.#(efri has a great sense of navigation in the wilderness.)#(introduce her to a series of roads and buildings and she is lost in the sauce.)#their friends split up to look for them after they've been missing from a while (wandering around with great interest and no sense of place #(incredibly lost)#kazari happens upon them right as they've found a necklace at the end of a dead-end passageway that - when dutifully grabbed #for archeological research purposes - ended up triggering the wall to crumble or disappear or otherwise remove itself from the equation #and efri wasn't going to just. LEAVE that opening there.#come ONN kazari that's weird!! we can't just leave it!! what if it closes up and we never ever find it again and there's incredible secrets #that the college never finds! what if we never know what's through there!#we HAVE to know what's through there!#so on they go.#and so ensue the horrors #they pass a lot of dead bodies before the main all but those ones are all immobile #also sissel is the only one to receive the psijic projection warning. which she explains to the others as a ghost telling her secrets #which efri accepts bc this seems like the kind of place that would for sure have ghosts #and kazari goes sure that tracks this place is fucking creepy can we leave now (<- is also curious but HAS to put on a show of reluctance #because clearly no-one else is going to)#(permanent babysitter of kids with the worst self-preservation instincts imaginable)#(she is so strong. living every childcare worker's nightmare)#ANYWAY #:D #normal type stuff #posting because it matches the artwork I'm also posting! look at that thing!!!#fay writes #oc tag #efri

19 notes · View notes

moe-broey · 7 months

Note

Thoughts on Grima in FEH? I personally am a big enjoyer of this horrible little guy getting picked up by the scruff and dragged kicking and screaming into therapy by the summoner.

OOF... UNFORTUNATELY... I have zero complex thoughts about Grima 😅 I do think it's interesting, from the many Grima and Robin interactions in FEH, that there's almost this self-fulfilling prophecy to it, like Grima believes no matter what they Have to be this way. That all roads lead to this, and there's no changing it. And in believing that, they make it their reality.

HOWEVER. I do get really stuck on just. How they talk. Top Ten Least Effective Insults: Worm.

They are like middle school bullies to me...... at least in FEH specifically where they will just harass Robin to no end LMFAOOO (and anyone else they have a bone to pick with)

I do think they can have a little therapy. As a treat :) (they could use it.)

#ask answered!#feh #ksjskjsks i am so sorry... this has been sitting for a little while. i've been a bit distracted 🫡#i def recommend going to the local grima experts. my head is so empty when it comes to them LMFAOOO #group therapy session for all the feh characters who are from/survived/are the direct cause of the apocalypse #i think they could benefit from that.#maybe split off into various groups though. the gen 2 awakening kids would hunt them for sport #i just want an excuse to bring lif into this scenario LMFAOOOOO i cannot help myself 😅🫡#actually... i do feel like there's potential here. for shenanigans.#one thing about me is all of the special interest is stored in the alfonse fire emblem.#nightmare therapy session. put grima timeskip dimitri (doesn't fit the prev criteria BUT fits the vibe) and lif together.#i think they all should hunt each other for sport. and end up in the most toxic self-destructive friend group ever.#grima #moe tag #summoner oc #my art

27 notes · View notes

wyrcan · 9 months

Text

if i were to create an 80s horror movie i would’ve called it like ‘doomsday devil’ and said there was an unnecessary sex scene thrown in the middle of it, none of this ‘zepotha’ crap

#doomsday devil SOUNDS like an 80s slasher #probably some movie with a final girl #must have young 20 year olds #includes a group of friends who split up way too easily #probably some dudes in crop tops #THATS an 80s slasher film #zepotha #directed by john carpenter

23 notes · View notes

meganechan05 · 9 months

Text

If the KingOhgers were in a high school AU, I can 100% see Racles and Rita (Student Council President and Vice President) constantly running from hoards of girls on Valentines Day. Just parkour all over campus trying to escape 😂

Racles escapes only when Suzume sees him and she scoops him up for herself (much to his and Kagu's dismay). Suzume tends to be scary once other girls try to get close to her bf so they back off.

Rita escapes by hiding in their class's supply locker. The boys are usually there before them so they open up a window and help open and close the locker for them to say "you just missed them" to the hoard while pointing to the window.

#they end up having their giant piles of chocolate split between the seven of them and the retainers #Gira gets his from elementary students or upperclassmen who find him adorable (which annoys Racles)#Yanma gets a loot from a group of girls who like his yankii style #Kaguragi and Jeramie get choco from different classes. their loots is about the same size if not bigger than Yanma's depending on the year #Himeno makes chocolate but prefers to have her family's professional chef do it for her #Rita would also give choco but only to the friend group and is usually pastries or store-bought #but they also give stuff out on White Day to return the favor (usually marshmallows)#Rita and Morf exchange sweets on both days 😂#kingoh thoughts #kingoh au #kingohger #king ohger

16 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

drop-type-like

Untitled

dlffty

IT’s ME...

thephantomst

Untitled

sirenplushg

unexpected cats

judynu

Central New York Real Estate Group