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mushroom-for-art · 1 year

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Lmao another one, mysterious white mewtwo belongs to @oogaboogaspookyman he is an evil bastard and he is tormenting my children. Hope you enjoy

Time loop

Lacerations decorated her baby brothers skin, the wounds oozed red black liquid, he'd stopped gurgling and choking around his own blood by now and was quiet, all she could do was hold him holding the back of his head gently and her other arm slowly pulled out of his chest and wrapped around him sobbing.

She was blood stained and covered in bruises and as the illusion faded away her condition worsened, deep aching wounds ran down her back from being cut open with shards of glass, one of her horns had been snapped and dangled painfully, her tail hung limply crushed and bludgeoned along with many other wounds that began to weep and scream. Her brother was worse, half his face had been blasted off in one of the previous runs and his eye had started to rot and leak from the socket, his body was barely held together having been crushed, torn apart, cut open, hacked into, burnt, electrocuted, whatever the twisted mind of the monochrome one could come up with that fate had befell her brother and she couldn't save him.

She felt the cold before she heard the demons laugh, deep and amused, echoed and tormenting, he clapped his hands together in slow praise as he glided easily over as the world around them faded to gray.

"Please, haven't you had your fun?" May looked up at the other two still protectively cradling the cool body of her brother, the other two watched her looking down upon her with his empty black eyes, expression unreadable, "don't make him go through any more, I beg of you." A smile cracked upon his face in amusement watching her growing panic feeling her growing fear.

"You can torture me instead, just me! You must be getting bored with this formula of things, give him his freedom and life back and just make me suffer. I-imagine what you could do, you could have me fight for my life and freedom that you'll never grant, make me fight thinking I'm to reunite with him just to rip me back, break me, tear apart and put my body back together over and over, make me relive my worst memories, just, please. He doesn't deserve this." She begged, to frankly deaf ears, tears streaming down her face as she looked up at the one tormenting them, wishing, praying for him to consider and let him go.

The other brought their hand to their chin in mock thought, though May in her anguish still could not read his body language, they floated to one side then the other as if in consideration. May could only watch trying not to get her hopes up and failing miserably clutching onto her sibling just wanting him safe.

The pale white two stopped in front of her, even in this other space time they continued to distort their form never truly stable. His hand came to hold her face in a way that was almost kind, but she knew better as she felt his grip start to tighten and tighten around her muzzle painfully gripping and drawing lines of blood as he slowly leant in close as he crushed her bones slowly.

"No."

He threw her backwards with a smirk as the world fell around her as she plummeted into the darkness.

———————————————————

Thick leaves blocked out the light and subdued the heat of the sun within the forest, it was quiet save for the breeze. May blinked as she looked around, having the strange feeling she had forgotten something but searching her thoughts provided no answers. She frowned a bit to herself in confusion as she stood from resting under a tree, there was a cool breeze against her as she stood her tail swayed.

She looked around before walking listening out for her brothers psychic energy or just his laughters being that he was a generally a noisy boisterous lad. She smiled hearing his laughter following the sound of it wondering what exactly he was up to.

Deeper she walked and yet never feeling as though she was getting closer, she stopped, listening out furrowing her brows in confusion. The pleasant cool breeze began turning cold and the warmth of the sun began to weaken sending a shiver through her. She turned her head trying to listen.

"Matt? Where are you?" She called out into the darkness of the forest before her as it creeped around her starting to chill her body.

The sound of her brother changed from joyous laughter in play to panicked frantic yelling and screams.

She ran into the darkness ahead of her following the distressed screams going as fast as she could manage before her psychic abilities turned on allowing her to fly forward at speeds desperately chasing the sounds forward as the dark forest ran past her in her peripheral vision.

Everything started to rapidly cool, the sun turning cold on her back, the dark greens turning to icy blues and frosts. Cold icy winds cut through her as she broke from the treeline into a wintery tundra, she fell into the snow from the shock shivering and teeth chattering as she gasped shoving herself up to stand breath clouding in front of her with each frozen gasp.

Her brother screamed and despite the horrific freezing cold she pushed forward towards the sound, body trembling with each step grasping herself and trying to use her tail for insulation. Sharp ice cut her face in each violent gust whipping at her to push her back increasing her struggles. By the time she reached the mouth of a cave she felt half frozen, frost decorating her body as she stumbled inside hearing quiet sobbing and crying.

The ground was still freezing and each step hurt as she pushed on deeper into the cave, finally making out a shape within the darkness huddled away from her and whimpering, "Matt?" She hurried over the best she could despite her cold state moving her hand to gently grab his shoulder.

His skin cracked and splintered cracking away from his body shoulder snapping off and gluing to her palm from heat difference, he was frozen solid. She yelped and whimpered trying to pull her brothers upper arm from her palm as the cold burnt against her. The half limb finally came loose falling from her hand shattering across the cold ground. She stood trembling in both cold and sheer terror, slowly backing away from the splintering corpse of her brother that was still whimpering.

She ran back to leave the cave to find the entrance frozen over trapping her inside, she hit her palms and hands against the ice kicking and cursing until it hurt her hands bleeding from her own skin being ripped off as it stuck against the ice wall. She cursed softly as her hands burnt with cold and pain droplets of blood falling from her trembling fingers as she turned to walk back into the cave desperate to find another exit.

Her brother was looking at her now, his body still expression locked in horror and fear his glassy eyes stared at her frozen open forever huddled forward tail wrapped around himself. Her breathing was rapid and fearful as scratched writing became visible along the icey walls asking where she was why didn't she save him and she could feel the guilt weighing down on her freezing body causing her to slowly slump to her knees where she could feel her flesh freezing to the cold sticking in a way she knew would rip away skin hands on her knees her blood warm against herself as she hung her head as her tears froze against her face painfully.

She looked up again and his corpse was closer mouth open still in his last breath patterns of frost dancing across his face in swirls and shapes, she sobbed softly in horror and fear and deep sadness at his face. She hesitantly brought her hand to his face, but didn't touch, "I'm so sorry, I wasn't fast enough I let you down." His eyes stared forward without seeing. A soft whimper left her throat as she put her forehead to his chest, she couldn't escape, she'd freeze here she knew it and that terrified her but she'd be with her brother at least as she shut her eyes ready to fall asleep and not wake up.

The cold cut into her body freezing her skin and breaking it, she could feel her fresh blood as it fell from her wounds before it froze blistering against her skin. She could feel all of her body screaming in pain burning and freezing each tremble ripping wounds in her fragile frosty form, her lips were bleeding and cracked and it felt like her eyes were frozen shut. But death wasn't coming. Something wasn't allowing her to die yet. Time seemed to drag endlessly and yet pass so rapidly as it cut and froze her. She couldn't feel anything anymore, even thinking was sluggish and yet she felt the pain as it stabbed into her stomach, a twisting hunger a starvation a primal desperate need to eat. She ignored it. Endured it. There was nothing to eat after all, may as well freeze on an empty stomach.

She felt the pain lurching squeezing inside her, everything was hurting and yet everything was numb at the same time. She was afraid that it would never end, that this was it, stuck forever in starvation pain and numbness, was Matt frozen caught in agony and fear forever too? Was he conscious but unable to do anything anymore? Was this death? Or worse? Purgatory? Hell? She wasn't particularly religious but it made her wonder and consider the mistakes and actions of her life. Though her memory was failing her, blurring and chopped, she couldn't recall much of anything really it all blurred as cold crept across her mind.

"Hey, you gonna eat or sit there nodding off huh?" Her brothers' voice, her eyes opened and she was back in the forest, it was warm and he was fine smiling at her waving fruits in the air that he collected with his psychic powers. He grinned at her with teeth saying, "come on, or I won't share with you." A fruit landed into her open palm. It was warm from the sun and her memories melted away.

She bit into the fruit, the moment the texture of the skin and flesh made contact with her teeth she knew something was wrong, it tasted wrong, it was stringy and meaty almost like pork but again too stringy as the taste of copper and meat washed over her tongue making her gag to herself to look at the fruit in horror. Her body went cold, everything turned dark and bleak her hands were bloody again she was back in the cave blood covering her hand holding a hunk of flesh. Blurred behind her hand her brothers' corpse with a hunk of flesh ripped out from his upper stomach tail area. She gagged again ready to throw up, dropping her brothers' flesh in disgust as she retched.

Dark psychic energy clamped her mouth shut to prevent her vomiting up the mouthful she swallowed, the acidicness burned her throat as tears streamed in her eyes as the scene fell away back to the gray void, her monochrome tormentor observing her with his usual twisted smirk.

"Ah ah."

He simply mocked as she choked trying to claw away the psychic energy to no avail, she choked and cried and struggled until she could only swallow. He released his grip on her as she panted in horror trembling before him, her brothers body lay nearby still missing a hunk of flesh.

"My my, getting a taste for it?"

The white mewtwo floated in front of her grinning a sick grin of glee down at her as she sat there trembling. He could feel the horror and fear rolling off of her in waves, the anger the hate the instability of her consciousness as she went through delightful cycle after cycle for him witnessing and committing atrocities for his entertainment.

"You made me do that, you tricked me.." She mumbled bleakly trying to look at him in defiance but her eyes were long since broken and bleak missing the twinkle of life behind them making her defiance fall flat.

He laughed at her dark and ominous in a way that made her terrified all over again. He could only laugh at her pitiful sorry state, really it was all fun for him. Watching the crumbling of her resolve the breaking of her mind as he pulled and ripped away at her very being, puppetting her to do exactly as he wanted simply by knowing how she ticked what actions would make her react, he could make her jump and however high he desired. He had her all figured out like the toy she was, and he still had so many more ways to play with her. He snapped his fingers lazily and watched her tumble down into the bleakness into a new cycle as he created a new world and situation to play with.

#My writing #My ocs #Mewtwo oc Matt #Mewtwosona May #@oogaboogaspookymans oc #@oogaboogaspookymans ???#@oogaboogaspookymans monochrome bastard lmao #Tw cannibalism #Tw injuries #Tw rotting #Tw vomit mention #Tw blood #So context @oogaboogaspookymans horrid little man has them in like a time loop groundhog day sandbox time pocket thing lmao #Don't ask me how #At the start of each loop Matt is alive but usually dies by the end and each wound sustained remains in the limbo gray world #And this bastard is able to then manipulate it and send them back to the beginning of the loop over and over to make them suffer #He can manipulate May's perspective of things ext activate or suppress memories change the environment ect #Basically he can just keep playing with them over and over again because he can to make them suffer #They've probably been through countless loops at this point hence their stage #*state. Idk how he originally trapped them so don't ask XD #I will probably randomly add more short torture stories for fun lmao #I think he probably bullshit threatened if May tried to kill him it'd just destroy his time loop with Matt still dead at the end #So like kill me ur brother stays dead forever but maybe I'll let him go still alive (he probably won't)#He really just be beefing with these two for no reason XD #I kinda imagine despite his general beef with humanity he dislikes matt for his human mannerisms and quirks #And he despises May for like being complacent to humans like ur a mewtwo and yet you let them push you around disgusting torture upon you #Idk that's my personal kinda interpretation/where his angle is when I write him

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queenshelby · 7 months

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Our Little Secret (Part 13)

Pairing: Dark! Cillian Murphy x Virgin! Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Brief Mention of Stillbirth

Notes: This will not be a love story. It will be dark, twisted and kinky. Cillian is portrayed as totally off cannon.

Two weeks had passed and you had almost moved on with your life which did not involve your family.

Your mother had kicked you out of her own house following your tryst with Cillian. But as luck would have it, your cousin Lukas had offered you a place to stay after Emma's parents too would not allow you to remain at their family home for more than a week.

You had to find a job quickly to sustain yourself and fortunately, you managed to secure employment at a local bookstore. The hours were flexible, and they paid decently, making your living situation somewhat manageable under these circumstances.

School, however, had to give way to your new lifestyle and you chose to transfer to college in the evening in an attempt to finish your education.

As far as Cillian was concerned, you had not heard from him since that afternoon, leaving you in a state of limbo regarding your relationship status with him.

From the local papers, you since learned that he had finally left Danielle and was now publicly fighting for custody of his son Max who the columns claimed was not his actual son at all.

Yet none of this mattered as you sat there staring blankly into space, haunted by memories and regret. Overwhelmed by guilt and confusion, you tried to block out the past few months - how you became entangled in such a mess with no future, only moments spent locked away from the world. But, it wasn’t easy. It felt as though the entire universe conspired to punish you for daring to experience passion beyond societal norms, yet you continued searching deep inside yourself for answers that wouldn't come easily.

You were pregnant with Cillian's child and an abortion was not currently something you could afford emotionally nor financially, forcing you to confront your reality alone. For the first time in years, the choices you made seemed to echo hollowly in your ears as you attempted to navigate this complex web of deceit, betrayal, and self-discovery.

"Em, I do not know what to do," you admitted honestly, breaking down in tears as she visited you, just like she did every day after you finished work.

Emma pulled you close, offering comfort as she held you tight.

"We're going to figure this out together," she assured you reassuringly, wiping away your tears. "But I honestly think that you need to tell Cillian," Emma added cautiously. "He has a right to know."

Her advice struck a chord in you, causing you to sit upright and nod thoughtfully.

"I asked him if he could meet, about a week ago, and he never got back to me, Em!" you said, feeling worthless and unwanted.

"He is going through a lot himself and he doesn't know about you carrying his child. Maybe you should try and give him a call again?" Emma interjected, attempting to mediate.

Despite Emma's suggestion, you remained hesitant, unsure whether reaching out to Cillian was the right decision. Nevertheless, you decided to pick up your phone and call him regardless of the consequences.

After a series of rings, someone else picked up on the other end – a stranger.

“Hello, can I speak to Cillian please?” you asked politely, trying hard to maintain composure amidst growing anxiety.

"Who am I speaking to?" replied the unfamiliar voice, curiosity evident in her tone.

”This is Y/N and I really need to speak with him,” you introduced yourself, taking a deep breath in preparation for what might follow. “Is Cillian available, please?” you begged and, just after you did, there was silence on the line for several seconds before the woman spoke up again.

"So, you are the homewrecker?" she snarled bitterly, anger radiating from her voice.

You flinched upon hearing those harsh words directed at you. You didn't expect the person answering Cillian's phone to actually know who you were, but then again, you did not know about the woman on the other line either.

"Listen, my brother isn't available. Don't call again. Please don't bother him anymore," came the venomous reply. Taken aback by the hostility, you couldn't understand why she reacted so aggressively when you hadn't even spoken poorly of Cillian. After a momentary pause, you found your voice.

"Actually, it's important we talk, whether you like it or not," you stated resolutely, ignoring the sharp edge in her voice. There was another brief silence followed by a mocking laughter that broke the air.

"Listen sweetheart, Cillian is going through legal proceedings against his wife, Danielle, because of you. He should not be speaking to you and if you call this phone again, I will provide you with a cease-and-desist letter on my brother's behalf. Any further contact will be considered as harassment, " she threatened ominously making you realise that the woman on the other end of the line was not only Cillian's sister, but also his solicitor, handling his custody case.

You recalled having met her at the funeral a few weeks ago. Her name was Alison and she worked at one of the largest law firms in Dublin.

As the conversation progressed, it became apparent that she despised you with an intensity that took you off guard. To make matters worse, she insisted you ceased communication with Cillian altogether. This was problematic considering she served as both Cillian's attorney and sister, putting her in a unique and potentially influential position.

You struggled to comprehend the full extent of your predicament until now. How were you supposed to inform Cillian about the child growing inside you without incurring the wrath of his sister?

It appeared impossible. Nonetheless, you had to reach out somehow, eventually, and hope for understanding from both sides despite their conflicted history.

As days turned into weeks, you grew increasingly anxious and restless, worrying constantly about how you were going to break the news to Cillian as the dire three-month mark drew nearer and you had yet another appointment with a local social worker to discuss your situation.

She offered you both, a community funded loan to carry out the procedure you needed or the option of putting you in touch with an adoption agency so that, further down the track, you could give up your child if you desired to do so.

Although it may seem cruel, it seemed practical and logical in light of your situation and, in the end, even Emma agreed with you on that front. The idea that you could choose whether or not to become a parent appealed to your desire for control over your destiny. However, this was easier said than done. Having a baby meant drastically altering your course forever, but you also knew that, not having the baby, might cause you regret.

The choice loomed large, casting its shadow over your daily existence. You frequently found yourself pondering the gravity of your options while walking along the quiet streets surrounding your temporary residence late at night. You often stopped in your tracks, contemplating your fate as a result of your irresponsible actions.

Life seemed determined to play itself out according to the chaos you created. Every passing day brought you closer to facing the inevitable truth and this truth was now something you had to confront by yourself. Without the man who caused all this by your site.

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian fanfic #cillianmurphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fanfiction

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mahiiimahiiii · 3 months

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Ok hear me out: once the crew gets to bauldurs gate they have mini funerals ala good place.

(part 1)

I'll give you a taster (+ my beautiful redeemed bhaalspawn):

Gale:

Gales "funeral" would be at a library. He would pile books together as a makeshift coffin and wear a bright pink night robe with fuzzy slippers and curlers in his hair, as well as a dusty pink eye mask. Everyone would be wearing some sort of robe, his flowers of choice for the event would be lilly of the valley.

"gale died doing what he loved, learning."

"some might say this would be the ultimate fate for gale"

He would interject, eating the cucumber on his eye, "I do not think the best outcome for me would be turning into an ilithid. But I must admit- it is fitting."

Later events would be a wine tasting and going shopping for new books.

Shadowheart:

I feel like hers would be a moonlight bonfire, lots of ring dancing and setting her old sharran armor on fire.

"I think-" karlach would start up "a lot of us would be dead if we didn't have our cleric. So shadowheart has earned her props.. not only is she reliable- she is resilient, she is strong."

"despite our quarrels, I am glad to fight with you. I have watched you bloom into a magnificent warrior, for what force? We will see soon enough. May your death be glorious." La'zel quipped.

Her flowers of choice would be night orchids. she would then insist on learning how to swim and manage a doggie paddle.

Karlach:

I feel like hers would be on the beach with a fruity drink in hand as she floats around in the water. The fish around her have probably boiled, which is more incentive for a fish fry.

Everyone gets like a back breaking hug. Lots of physical activities party games wise, be drunk and merry. Most likely people get a bit sunburnt and burnt burnt.

There is no speeches as Karlach is too busy expressing her gratitude about everyone else.

She gets withers to do limbo with her

Her choice of flower is sunflowers.

La'zel:

She would like to opt out of this. a simple "thank you la'zel, may you die horribly in battle. May your wounds bleed out and may you suffer immensely" will suffice.

(her choice of flower is snap dragons)

Jaheria:

Hers would be a touristy walk of bauldurs gate.

She talks about her life, a sense of oral history to pass onto others. The night ends with root veggies chips and cheese, and a generous donation to animal sanctuaries within the cities from the Harpers.

Her idea of fun is bastardizing the ballads that volo wrote via mad libs. Which immature humor ensues.

The mighty _____ o' noble _____ (noun *x2)

Found ___ and sent them back to ____ and ____ (noun, adj*x2)

She would rest in a fainting couch in a puddle of sun in the wildshape form of a big cat, tail swishing idily as people read off their bastardized poems.

Her choice of flowers are jasmine blooms.

Wyll:

His would be a picnic in the park, as people read their speeches to him in comfortable sun dresses and loose cotton clothing, he would hold a little bouquet of daisies resting on a soft gingham sheet with a crown of flowers.

He would insist of going to his favorite pastry shops in the city. Sweet wine, tarts and small cakes. A day of sweets to remember the sweetest person in the camp.

His whole funeral was about allowing everyone to experience the childhood he knew, which wasn't much, but was something he knew they needed.

The look of pure joy in everyone's faces was enough to sustain him for the rest of his days.

The goals were, teach karlach hopscotch, double dutch with Wynne, climb a tree with astarion, and show la'zel some human dances. The older people in the group were less inclined to indulge, taking the roll of the gossiping parents to the 20 something aged other members in the band.

The night ended with dances and fiddle music.

His choice of flowers are thistle blooms

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helixos · 9 months

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helix's commissions

displayed above is a collection of my artwork from this year so far!

i'm in job limbo at the moment, and i'm quickly realizing i don't have enough money to make ends meet next month. i am also disabled and thus have to seek out jobs that won't make my condition worse, which adds an extra layer of difficulty to my situation. ideally i want to sustain myself off my own art, but that takes a long time.

instead of the usual set prices, i work at an hourly rate of $20 (USD). my average time for illustrations such as the above is roughly 5 hours. i accept payment through ko-fi, paypal and cashapp. payment is required before you receive an un-watermarked image via email.

for more information, please message me here or by sending an email to helix DOT art AT pm DOT me. all finished products will be sent via that email address, so please be okay with providing an email address as well!

reblogs > likes, please help my art reach more people!

#tippy tappy #helix.art #commissions #digital art #art #digital illustration #commissions open #disabled artist #disabled art

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vmuwu444 · 3 months

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no idea what the main vibes are for the gabriel is a bug thang (au?) but i quite like it because to me. angels exist on a plane slightly to the left and their bodies are surface level illusions — there's nothing underneath the helmet as it's not meant to be taken off, or even protect him; it's more rather just decoration that came with the prize of being granted a humanoid form

so when gabriel's holy light is ripped away, all he has left is his body. isn't that kind of scary? that the only reason he's alive is because of the shiny costume he got some thousand years ago? he exists only as his body, now. there isn't anything to support it, now, which is more distant from the father than even humans because while they were much more connected to the flesh they still had a soul. he becomes purely flesh and bone when his body was formerly an empty husk to make way for the father's holy light, and when suddenly thrust into having to actually sustain itself it begins to warp and change, at a much more tangible rate than how adaptation occurs typically.

animals are soulless beings, simply developed in the most efficient way and occasionally carved out to have purpose to support the human race; their bodies aren't carefully crafted, they're just the general strokes of a thing given to the whims of natural selection to fine-tune and alter. and in hell, where reality is plenty strange already, and it's very easy to just — take the world by the seams and fold it a bit to the left, i'd imagine that it'd be very easy for gabriel to wake up, look into some scuffed mirror in limbo or something, and realize he can split the base of his helmet into mandibles.

#v1rimrposting #gabriel ultrakill #ultrakill #I Think It's Said That He Always Was A Bug But It's Funnier If He Becomes One Once His Body Has To Comply With The Whims of Nature #speculation #idk if i should tag this angels is bugs because dont want to clog the tag... rip... esp since this isnt compliant to the thang (au)

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saltminerising · 4 months

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How I see dead lairs…

Dead lairs have always been particularly unsettling. Especially locked ones for me seeing as that lair is for sure done and gone… And everything in it. That’s the disturbing it, huh? Valuables and poor dragons left locked within an eternal slumber…

But to be entirely honest, I never considered them to be slumbering.

I just consider them Godless.

Think about it. You’re technically the sole creator and master of your account. In terms of creation, you could be considered a minor deity seeing as you are to able to hatch an entire new being from one egg, design them to how you like, then proceed to build off from there. You give the dragon a name… Then a personality. You give them a story, or at the very least, manifest one for them. They’re also dressed by your hand, perhaps even painted, you proudly displaying such art pieces within their information.

And as for the dragons… They begin to realize their creator as their world begins to be built around them. As food continues to sustain them, their hoards always fully provided. The hunters and gatherers of the clan are accredited for this work, but they know it is all thanks to their Deity that they even began to understand what must be done in the first place. Their world continues to evolve and change.

The clan grows into a town. More residents join, and soon enough, clashing stories are helping to drive a far more greater plot… All under your watchful eye, of course. Soon enough, your children grow older, watching the walls of their home gradually shift into becoming that of a kingdom. There are more intriguing characters in this large world now, one that is now seemingly endless and brimming with possibility.

The sun burns brightly in such golden times.

…but everything must come to an end eventually.

It happened so slowly, the changes… they would come to bitterly realize this after. The food was what was affected first. Gatherings reaped less and were becoming infrequent, the best of the Blessed Hunters of the Holy Trinity beginning to cry how their Deity was no longer whispering to them the Secrets of the Hunt.

The artisans and builders came next. Materials were becoming few and far between, and the passion was beginning to appear just as dead as their quickly waning eyes. There were no more auctioneers nor merchants fit to travel, for they too lost the inner guidance of their Deity. Some were able to continue on for a bit longer, but even their efforts did not last for long.

The first residents did their best not to lose hope. They kept praying, yearning, wondering… have they been abandoned? Was this what it was like to lose your Deity’s hand? And their cries remained unanswered. Their bellies empty.

As for the first two… Well… They slipped away due to grief from that of betrayal…

And eventually… the world perished.

Some were unfortunate enough to retain their mind within the limbo that now enveloped all. Unfortunate enough to realize their Deity had abandoned them to waste away… But with horror, they will come to realize that in this domain, shaped by what once was their creator… Nothing wastes and everything remains forever.

#long post #submission

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nikkeisimmer · 4 months

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Conversation in the Swamps

Love leads to attachment - and that leads to the Dark Side…

Her statement hung in the air like a hollow echo as the vision of her time in carbonite assailed by the visions of Valkorian taunting her. Yet she had loved once; deeply and was hurt just as deeply by his betrayal and thus she had sunk herself deeper into the Jedi Code for solace.

There is no emotion; there is peace

There is no ignorance; there is knowledge

There is no passion; there is serenity

There is no chaos; there is harmony

There is no death; there is the Force.

The darkness of the swamps of Zakuul, so different from the bustling city towers, allowed them in the darkness to hear the noises of the animals that frequented the marshes. A lot of these animals were predators and Claria and Lana had to be on their guard, their sword hands hovering close to their lightsabers just in case those weapons were needed.

She had been encased in carbonite for five years; five years lost to the ruling oligarchy of Zakuul; a brutal dictatorship that had consisted of the Sith Emperor before she put the blade of her red-bladed lightsaber through him, ending his life and placing the rule over Zakuul into the hands of Arcann and Vaylin; the psychopathic children of an even more psychopathic parent.. The red-bladed lightsaber was the preferred weapon of the Sith and she had used it as a part of her disguise undercover on Sith worlds. Claria hated deception, but to use her green-bladed double-blade lightsaber was to invite certain death as an easily identifiable weapon of a Jedi. It was better to use the weapon of a Sith whilst undercover.

Darth Marr was dead, killed by the lethal force-lightning blast from the fingers of Valkorian or was he Lord Vitiate. And she had languished for five years encased in a tomb that kept her between life and death, unable to breathe, unable to scream, yet held in limbo as the time ticked away.

And Lana had tried to move mountains in order to rescue her from her prison. Lana Beniko; a Sith Lord. Claria wondered how she had become best friends with the blonde-haired Sith. Lana was, after all, a practitioner of the Dark Side. Jedi and Sith were normally mortal enemies, but Lana had an air about her that seeking power was just not something she was interested in.

Gazing into the darkness that surrounded the swamp Claria reminisced. Two years prior to the capture of her and Darth Marr over Zakuul, she had been forced to cut down the love of her life in the passageways of the Sith Empire’s Harrower Class Dreadnought that was Darth Nox’s flagship Marauder, a ship that was feared throughout the galaxy for the crew’s sheer ruthlessness under orders from the vicious and ruthless Darth Nox himself - member of the Dark Council and the pillager of worlds; unbelievably the once-gentle Keron who now refused to surrender and return to the Light Side of the Force and who longed to destroy any Jedi who crossed his path. After a harrowing emotional and physical battle between Jedi and Sith, her green shimmering blade had entered his body vaporizing internal organs and ending his body’s capacity to sustain life, she had seen him turn back; his irises losing the red-tinged yellow and returning to his natural brown as he breathed his last.

:Attachments can be a weakness to be utilized against you by those who would seek to destroy you. Do not follow that path, Do not mourn for me...I am free. I will be with you always in the light of the Force: Keron’s voice echoed in Claria’s mind, the gentle voice she remembered from many years ago.

Tears filled her eyes as she recalled the light leaving his eyes leaving them dull and lifeless as she had held his limp body and wept. She would now follow the Jedi Code to the letter. Even if Theron Shan was constantly trying to flirt with her. Same with Koth Vortena. The two of them couldn’t help it. Theron was always seeing women throw themselves at his feet. Koth was just a regular smuggler/wrench who seemed to be unable to keep a ship under him, until he had found the Gravestone in which they were currently sheltering. I will follow the Jedi Code; there will be no more attachment, Claria resolved. There is no love for me any more. My love died aboard the Marauder.

There was no way to come to terms with the loss of Keron, since she’d had to kill him. Being encased in carbonite was part of that problem.

*****************************************************

Hopefully my muse can come up with more.

#swtor fanfiction #swtor headcanon #swtor characters #swtor gameplay #swtor #swtor oc #Star Wars The Old Republic #Claria Redsun #Jedi Consular #Lana Beniko

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retphienix · 3 months

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seconds away from leveling the last thing I need to before L4 ✪ ω ✪

I saw that someone had the much more interesting idea of cheesing the test with limbo, but I have been stuck being told "No" to playing the game for the last 3 tests, so I wanted to actually PLAY with my boy broberon, so I took him on a test run yesterday which proved that it's frankly, a breeze, which is fine :)

And sure enough the real thing was much the same. Basically just ran around having some fun and treating it like a victory lap :)

Since my current Oberon build is... how would I put it, bad strictly fun? I did end up hopping into operator like 2 times when my shields broke and I got antsy, but to be completely honest, I was being over-protective of my self sustain because I don't like retaking these tests, knowing how my build works I probably didn't need to do that.

But my build IS lacking on that front, once upon a time it was a shield gate build but the second the shield changes dropped I ended up reformatting him to be more "generally" aggro and less concerned with living because I'll simply just not die, and that's worked out so far....mostly because soon after that we got the companion reworks and my aggro playstyle allows Guardian to act like a full brief respite shield gate build all its own lmao

Don't trust Guardian the way I trust it with my Oberon. I am wrong. I know I am wrong. My other builds don't act like this- I simply pretend Oberon is immortal and he somehow ends up being immortal despite having no "game plan" for survival put into my build (no extra armor, I don't even utilize the renewal armor most of the time, no augur spam, no general survival mods, no rolling guard- I really take Oberon out there in the nude and he just doesn't die loool)

This guy really survives long runs on steel path strictly off the back of me not running directly to my death and the blind from his 4 (and killing so fast that he can't die) (and my overworked sentinel spamming Guardian)

ANYWAY. EZ TEST. After thousands of hours I can finally say I'm level 4.

That's what that means right?

Free fusion :)

#warframe #RetPlays

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fuckzachariah · 3 months

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xviii. dancing with our hands tied ; @aleburton

They rolled up to the hotel, the evening heavy and alive around them; a restless writhing atop a smothering blanket. Kylie decided not to duck inside, happy with her outfit and station, unwilling to allow her energy to ebb with the temptation of a bed before her night out. Zach tried to leave the car, distracted and mind abuzz with the following morning, but she snatched him back by the bicep. “Hey,” she scolded, tugging. He passed a glance to her, face like a diamond and eyes like water, looking at him like he was the whole world and she couldn’t fathom it. “Say bye.” Her hand came to his face, urging him closer. When they kissed, she tasted different; that sweet cherry pie gone a little sour as it went down. “Have fun, baby,” he muttered. “I’ll be a good girl, and all the rest!” she assured jokingly. Then he left. The car peeled away from the curb side, leaving him stranded in a strange limbo. Alone, the reality of his circumstance settled gently but heavily on his shoulders, like a soft leaden cloak.

Zach unearthed his phone from his pocket, blinking openly at the text on its screen. It was surreal to think of the sender. Though she had been unavoidably real tonight, the existence of Alex still remained out of reach in his mind, as though she existed beyond an impenetrable silvery film. The urgency with which the text had been sent, too, haunted him. His face turned to the sky, the air damp with premature dew. “Mr Winthrop?” He pivoted, a little jumpy. One of the hotel doormen bowed his head. “Do you need any help getting to your room?” Zach eyed him. “Amanda call the front desk?” The doorman’s mouth spread into a thin, sorry line, and he bowed his head again, gesturing to the door. “Just let me know if you need anything.” Zach, exasperated, allowed himself to be led inside. He waved them off promptly, refusing to be escorted further as he headed to the elevator.

Sleep expertly evaded him. Though he turned down the lights, he continued to pace erratically in the silent dark, plagued by their uncertainty. They had not discussed precisely what the following day would entail, if at all. What was it she wanted to say to him? Was it as simple as clearing the air? Or was it something worse, something irreparable? The question of their sustained chemistry was inescapable; it curled like a parasite at his core, twisting and thrashing, feeding off of his anxiety. He couldn’t ignore it. But could he suppress it if they were bound to live adjacent lives? Two parallel lines, never converging, but always close enough to know that a single diverted path could cancel the other’s out entirely. The mini bar had been emptied ahead of their arrival upon request, and he was glad of it; with nobody there to hold him accountable, the itch was insufferable.

Zach was still awake even when Kylie returned back to the hotel somewhere around 3 AM. He had been so accustomed to honesty with her that these past ten hours had been dizzying; it dawned on him as he chose to feign sleep that he had lied to her more times in New York than ever before in California. Funny. “Baby,” she mumbled into the blue dark, crawling dress, heels and all onto the bed beside him, the mattress shifting with her weight. Zach, for reasons he could not parse even from himself, remained steadfast in his inauthenticity. His face was a picture of peace; eyes closed and lips softly parted, exposed chest rising and falling with slow breaths. She landed a kiss on the hilt of his cheekbone, the sweet wafting scent of vodka and strawberries emanating from her mouth that swilled all through him like he’d thrown back a shot hisself. He buzzed all over, electrified with bright consciousness, until she quietly departed to prepare for bed in the bathroom.

Somewhere in the stir of nightfall, sleep had taken him restlessly and held him bound for a few hours before he rose with the dawn. He checked the clock at his bedside; it was just after 7. On his other side, Kylie went on sleeping, the booze strapping her down to the mattress as though by force. Her blonde hair fanned out in a halo on the pillow like a Norse goddess, her face scrubbed of make-up giving her round cheeks and delicate features the unsullied look of a girl far younger than she really was, heart-shaped lips parted in blissful ignorance. He turned away, reckoning with guilt. Though he would have to continue to lie to her, this somehow felt easier than coming clean. He worried they would not survive the blatant act of betrayal, and Kylie would never be able to go on in the informed circumstance of his former relationship with Alex. She would be jealous, insecure, hurt. Then he would have neither of them. Wasn’t it better this way?

Showering and dressing in silence, he watched the sun pull up a blind from Central Park, fastening a glossy casing over even the duskiest parts of the city. Without turning back, he slipped from the hotel room and out into the loving façade. For some reason he felt obligated not to show up empty-handed, as though he had been invited to a second formal dinner and didn’t want to be caught out twice. So, after catching an Uber close to the address Alex’d given him, he armed himself with a coffee a piece from the vendor a block over. He hoped her sticky-sweet order was still the same. Then, hat and hood pulled up and sunglasses pulled down to avoid any stray fan detections, he made his way to the location with a few minutes to spare.

A dance studio silently awaited him, and upon gazing up at the iron lettering standing proud atop the double doorframe, he experienced a bite of nerves sharper than any he’d ever felt before. He almost flinched at the unfamiliar sensation. His cheeks were whipped red with the cold weather, but inside he burned like a wildfire. Zach knew nerves: he had swallowed jitters before performing to 50,000 people, before millions worldwide, but this was different. This was a disease all its own. Detecting no obvious signs of life from the inside, Zach tried his luck with a simple push upon the large doors. They popped open. He breathed, singular and deep, then stepped inside. As he navigated the lobby to the winding corridors hidden beyond it, he followed a faint path of light, like Alex illuminated places as she went.

And so she did. He found her alone in an abandoned studio hall, only one of the seventeen lights activated, framing her like a heavenly beam. He stopped dead in the hallway, the coffees hanging useless in his clasped hands like television props. She looked tiny, beautiful like a curse. Her melted dark hair was once again pulled away from her face and neck, leaving only suggestive waves hanging around her forehead, cheekbones and jaw, and she was clad in pieces that seemed as delicate and as light as the moments they hovered between. Zach entered, clearing his throat and holding out the paper cup. “Morning, Miss Burton,” he rasped in the parody of one of her students, his voice suffering from being unutilized for so many hours. Even as he spoke having approached it all with a lightness, their reality began to settle on him. A little lower now, he approached further still, sentiment gripping him by the throat. “I had to convince myself I would never see you again,” he admitted in a low voice, his honesty surprising even him. “So I would stop fantasizing about how it would go. But, this…” He trailed off, their eyes meeting stopping the whole world in an instant. “It’s so fucking good to see you, Alex,” he breathed.

#para

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phoenixculpa · 5 months

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sniping bots, don’t feel insects innocuous as leaves’ movement in sunset, sustaining rain with every overcast,

dying in snow to bloom again somehow like a balayage trample driving down the cold, driving in squares with[out] you while we hit our black jazz, thunder, with a plastic tip,

paper filter, or thinning lines between our manes ever fuller, patchy pirating my every whim, every ounce of self control hijacked like it

never was, like no prior relationship existed before titles meant a word, meant a severance, a sore thumb, long nail expunged

like i’ll take anything if it’s from you, with love, when you know it, just for a moment, and thoughtfully

thoughtless in happiness trickles doubt of yours, thanking us twelve hours prior, for being adults,

limboed low like a game gone foul, stuffed mid dunk, blue jordans you could sell for a rack, ice melt or

bust treasure for a look, a drive to the airport off twenty milligrams of michigan’s finest, wind blowing air colder than indecision down my spine

the way you stroked it, held me tighter before being late for work, all i could do was admire you before your last job

in shoplifted banana republic, wondering what made you excited, smiles, theatrics,

bellinis you bought, royal crown, wasn’t that, but the concept,

wasn’t slashed but residual moreso neurotic, uncalled for,

psychic handshake, curly hair, darling eyes always so comfortable when i showed you opera,

adjusted pennies off and had your madison back without question, always will

#tbd #💔

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manasurge · 8 months

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My Characters

Thought I might as well do this since I like how a few of my in-game characters turned out, so here's my roster so far (subtracting a few that are in limbo). Tried to put it in order to most to least used. I'm not one to make my in-game characters as OCs, but I still like to give them a name/aesthetic/theme that matches together (and colour-coordinated) so it sort of seems like they could (also for fashion wars reasons. Name above their respective images below). Also I like giving them singular names. (oh gosh I really hope this automatically shrinks the length of the post bc it's not giving me the "Read More" option >_>') My Main: Vespaura (Mesmer/Mirage). Crystal Bloom/Branded themed. Still waiting for proper crystal aesthetic looks lol (none available in game atm are what I'm looking for). I'm pretty much on her almost all of the time since I'm a ho for Open world and I love GS lasers, clones, portals, and evasion hax (I'm squishy so I need the survivability and sustain, and I tag almost everything, so it works well when doing metas and stuff).

Mourynn (Necromancer/Scourge) - This is the one I took my OC's name from lol, so it's funny seeing her in game bc I forget sometimes lsjflksf. I Tried to make her look like an infected/toxic/poisonous Awakened Nightmare Courtier Duchess, and the squiggly tentacles are meant to portray turning into the necrotic glider below. I really wanna get her a bunch of Mordy and Zhaitan leggies (one day~)

Ferahla (Revenant/Renegade) - I actually updated her back piece and colours a bit since this new back piece was released bc it fit her look much more. I tried to make her look gnarly (also this outfit makes her look a bit nakey, but I'm kind of okay with that tbh alsjflskdjf), and I'm trying to match her to the Chuka leggy for whenever I get around to finishing it. Renegade is also one of my favourite specs cuz I like being at ranged and having the support of Kalla and her Lesbian Warband.

Faihan (Ranger/Soulbeast) - I still adore her look and her name is one of my favourites too. I was sort of going for a pheonix/firebird Hunter (bloodborne) kinda vibe. I couldn't decide between capes so she has one for Power and one for Condi. Also it's tricky to dress for leather armour, so I like how this turned out.

Vaipaura (Mesmer/Virtuoso) - All my mesmers have similar names bc I think it's funny to headcanon they're just different AUs of each other (not gonna show Chrono here bc she's in Limbo. Her name is Vastaura). I wanted to give Vaipaura a Regal Canthan Noble Madam kinda vibe (also I just love the combo of this outfit and backpiece). She also has Exordium cuz it also matches this look too. However I still heavily prefer playing Mirage bc despite this one being great for DPS and very neat. It's just super squishy with not a lot of survivability/sustain and no clones to distract, and it feels so slow, but regardless it is still fun to play as well (I just miss spamming dodge all the time :( I also miss my clones)

Mortesque (Necromancer/Reaper) - I'm not 100% sure if this will be the final look for her or not, but I was mostly just trying to match her to Zhaitan's Bite when I finally unlocked it a little while back. As you can tell I really like greatswords (the only 3 leggies I have are GS lol)

Shroudryss (Thief/Specter) - My newest sapling. I'm stll not 100% sure about the outfit, but it'll do for now. Specter is really fun!! I really like fancy magical mobile classes. I need to play thief way more tbh since it's more of less up my alley (this one will be my first to go to)

Jadesta (Engineer/Mechanist) - Her name and look are very on the nose. HOWEVER I am proud of the name I gave to her mech: Caladborg (also I really like the Aetherblade look here and at least it's easy/fun to give her stuff for fashion wars)

Prismysta (Revenant/Herald) - I wanted to make her fit the pretty pearlescent look of Glint's facets, and I did want one light-themed cute character. Also there was just so many pretty pieces that wouldn't work with Vespaura that I thought it'd work well for her!

Hexirax (Thief/Daredevil) - I still super need to change her name bc it for sure as hell does not suit her at all lmao!! But since I still needed a pink Sylvari, I thought it would be funny to make it my Daredevil (also the weapon worked well for this so I made her Sakura themed. Her outfit is still subject to change if I find something better)

Vallotash (Guardian/Dragonhunter) - Still not sure what to do with her yet (might switch her elite spec, idk yet), but I'm still super proud of her name and I forgot I made this look on her. I like the colour combo, and I still might keep it (subject for change tho, but I don't hate it)

#gw2 #sylvari #my characters #Lol my other ones are a bit ignored atm but the first handful are my most used (Vespaura especially)#I've never really showed them off before so I thought I might as well while I'm here #I'm proud of how a lot of them turned out and a lot of their names #Fear my army of plant lesbians!

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exmcrtis · 6 months

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you can sit beside me when the world comes down...

(a general overview of what my muses have been up to post-event)

ARTEMIS has mostly been laying low. she was unaffected by the destruction in town, but the emotional damage was enough to convince her she needs to keep her head down, and she's been spending more time at home or at work. she's been feeling more and more lonely these days, and as a result has decided to stop using physical intimacy as a coping mechanism. long story short, she's a reformed hoe.

BELLA has been splitting her time between jerico, the cruz-duttons, and her friends, but has mostly been with jerico. his injuries have worried her enough that she's in full-time panic mode, but is doing her best to hide it from everyone. she's also formed a new friendship with jessie, one that she plans to hold near and dear. just don't tell other people that she has a heart, she'll probably kick you in the shins.

CAIN suffered an eye injury during the earthquake, and has been sentenced to wear an eye patch for the foreseeable (pun intended) future. not being with val during the ordeal freaked him out, and they have been shacking up at his place for the past couple of weeks. he really only leaves the house to go to work, but he's been rendered useless since he needs both eyeballs in order to do his job properly. just call him captain cain and slap a pet parrot on his shoulder.

EZRA did not attend the event, as the idea of being around that many people freaks her out. she happily stayed at home with her books, but often visits the large cracks in town to inspect them. can usually be found staying out dangerously close to dark, but thinks nothing of it.

HALLEY sustained sprains to both her wrist and shoulder, but is otherwise unscathed. she's still quite emotionally stunted when it comes to her family situation, but chooses to distract herself by visiting mo as often as possible. she also spends a lot of time with zarina and knightley, but still doesn't fully open up about her feelings. she also confessed her feelings for saffron and doesn't regret it, but the very thought of liking someone that much terrifies her.

LAVENDER hasn't been doing so great for the past couple of weeks. the disappearance of her mother has left her feeling like a shell of a human, and no matter how much she tries to distract herself, she just can't shake it. she spends most of her time at work or around town, no longer feeling like the commune is home. however, she has no plans of moving out, so she's stuck in a limbo state currently.

LEIA was beebopping around until the earthquake hit, and then she scrambled home. she visits draven and salem more often than not, wanting to make sure that draven is okay despite how heavy things are at home.

LUCA has been hovering around parker as often as they'll let him. he didn't attend the event, but seeing so many people grieving and recovering makes him tense, so he's been spending most of his time at work. he does regular check-ins with all the weirdlings, and while he wants to pretend that he has no feelings, his concern for his little siblings for all intents and purposes outweighs any façade that he tries to put on. basically, this is the best time to try and befriend him.

ONDINE has been trying to adjust to life in town rather than the commune. her life has been uprooted in every sense of the word, and it's caused a lot of trust issues to develop that weren't there previously. she's made quick friends with celia, a good thing considering she's been bringing joei to work with her, and has begun settling into the idea of being around people outside of the commune. ondine wants to believe that she and joei are safe now that there's some sort of separation from absinthe, but she can't help but feel paranoid that something bad will happen at the drop of a hat.

PRUDENCE is living in a current state of grief and sadness. the loss of minnie hit her hard, so she's been trying and failing to find as many distractions as possible. she hasn't been sleeping much (if at all), and the exhaustion is starting to show. conrad's offer for her to stay over at the greene residence whenever she wanted has been accepted every single day since the earthquake. she's started to feel like a burden as of late, but she continues to show up at mason and conrad's door on a daily basis. she worries that she's overstaying her welcome and is waiting patiently for the day when they kick her out. spends most of her time crying but has become a pro at hiding it.

SALEM sustained some pretty serious burns from her shoulder down on her left side. in the past couple weeks she's visited the clinic a few times to make sure she's taking proper care of herself, but unless she's there or at work, she's spent most of her time at home. though draven tries to fuss over her, salem still keeps her focus on him, trying not to think too hard about what happened to her. however, she plans to cover up for quite some time, not wanting to draw attention to her burns. garnering extra attention is too scary.

SARE has spent most of her time working. she tries to check in with spencer even more now, not wanting to feel like a helicopter sister, but also wanting to make sure her little sibling is doing okay. she's finally coming around to the idea of having a closer relationship with sycamore, but she's choosing to take that one step at a time.

VIOLET has been a worrying mess since the earthquake. she's been trying to give saffron space, but has done at least one check-in (even if it's met with a grouchy attitude). she knows how worried rex is and has been spending as much time with him as possible so she can keep both of their minds at ease.

WOLF has been coping with his injury by cracking jokes and annoying arty. his hand was crushed badly by debris, and he anticipates that it'll never gain its full functionality ever again. while it's been extremely painful to deal with, his aversion to going to doctors (and being touched, for that matter) has made him refuse to go to the clinic. he will continue to cope with humor.

WYLIE is doing the worst of them all. minnie's death has left her feeling like she barely exists, and she cries most of her days away. she has stopped going to work all together, and when she is around other people, she mostly stays quiet until someone addresses her. wylie feels like there's no point to life anymore, and has no idea how to channel any of her emotions. coping mechanisms don't currently exist, and being around her can only be described as 'miserable'. she misses the love of her life.

#artemis hayes: musings #bella darling: musings #cain barlowe: musings #ezra blum: musings #halley macgillivray: musings #lavender parsons: musings #leia tolentino: musings #luca russo: musings #ondine feng: musings #prudence wheaton: musings #salem salazar: musings #sare holmes: musings #violet beauregarde: musings #wolf lykaios: musings #wylie bateman: musings

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gattinarubia · 6 months

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i wish i could say i were totally surprised, but honestly this rift (however hopefully temporary) makes total sense to me. in a very important way, stede and ed were on different paths from the moment they met. stede showed ed a gentler, more comfort- and purpose-driven way of life that he never felt like he deserved, and ed showed stede how to be courageous and confident in a way he never thought he could be. ultimately they're searching for the same thing: happiness and self-acceptance. but it's evident that the paths they take to get there would have to be very different. both of them changed in the process of loving each other, and these are changes they're going to have to deal with to make the relationship work.

they're both recovering from feeling unfulfilled, inadequate, and guilty in their former lives, but these lives are different enough that their respective processes of recovery will likewise be different even if the desired destination is essentially the same.

they both tried going back to the lives that made them so unhappy to start with and it wasn't sustainable for either of them. now the mirror is flipped and they're each materially seeking out what the other was trying to escape from.

the brilliant part about "fun and games" was that Anne and Mary's relationship didn't show what a healthy adult relationship looks like, but it does show what it can look like when one partner sacrifices too much for the other or they settle for an ultimately lose-lose compromise and let resentment fester. ed and stede are both at risk of that and i think at least ed knows that (if only he would stop panicking and start communicating better).

an argument like this was basically inevitable and probably necessary for getting their shit straightened out. i hope we get enough of a resolution in the last episode that we're not left in total limbo while awaiting confirmation on season 3 (or forever if the absolute worst happens). i can't pretend to know how the writers are going to resolve this, but i wouldn't be surprised if ed and stede agree to go their separate ways temporarily to try to figure some shit out.

i totally understand why this plot thread is needed, but it still makes me so sad. that's the end of my TED talk.

#ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2

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muzzleroars · 1 year

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helloo I also go feral whenever you post I love how much thought you put into everything .. auuuoaua it's so good,,

I am curious, what are your thoughts on the ferryman?

aaaa thank you!!! speculating on lore and creating headcanons is one of my favorite things to do with media i love, so i'm glad you all like listening to my thoughts ;o; and double thank you for letting me talk about the ferryman!!!!

the ferryman is one of my favorite enemies in the game, but i think it makes sense considering how much the character has going on. they're a being that sits at odds to everyone else in hell, save for perhaps those in limbo - they are ashamed of what they were and long so much more for heaven than others seem to on the lower layers, while they also maintain a loyal love to gabriel when otherwise he is viewed with hatred for what he's done to the citizens of hell. so central to the ferryman is their loneliness, appropriate for a sailor on an endless ocean, who only has their faith to sustain them in an unforgiving storm.

however, there's a dichotomy to the ferryman - they stand apart from all the other sinners, yet they take massive amounts of pride in their work and it benefits those very sinners. i find it quite interesting that they develop their ships, they incorporate new technologies into them, but most of all, they make them comfortable. the interior of their ship is almost welcoming, a place where new and terrified souls could possibly relax if there is such a thing to the freshly damned. love is worked in, a care for those that are afraid because they understand that fear too and perhaps that's inherent to them, perhaps it's what gabriel did for them, perhaps it's both. so while it’s true that the ferryman is alone, they show an aching sort of love in all of their work from their idols to their ships. they are totally detached from all others, set apart from the sinners they still show thoughtful kindness toward through their work and separated impossibly from gabriel who they sculpt forever for in his long absence.

and their devotion to gabriel has to be discussed given how central it is to their character and what we know about them, how their ship is decorated to honor him with paintings, with sculpture, with his hologram. it's. utterly tragic, it stacks onto their isolation and their love and ultimately crystallizes it. they carefully craft the idols in his honor, the image of the virgin and child as tribute most likely to gabriel's role in the annunciation. to them, he is the gentle messenger written of in the bible, he guides with words of comfort and he is their unwavering faith in a world so desolate and broken. the ferryman knows they will never be saved, at least deep down even if they can't consciously admit it - they are an ailing sailor forever lost at sea and they know they did it to themselves, they chose their fate long ago, but gabriel's care is enough to see them through, to carry them forward in sin so heavy it made them tear their flesh from their bodies. they have mortified their physical form to its destruction and i have to imagine it carries heavy consequences, an agony and ever-present ache in their bones, a rattling cough from phantom lungs when they have nothing to protect them from the driving rain. there is a sickness to them, but still they write in their journal of gabriel, they painstakingly carve another idol of the holy mother, and they work, they work, they can never forgive what they were but he is there even if he never returns. love and loneliness. the ferryman only has themself, and so they hate their only company.

by the events of the game, i do wonder what the ferryman must be feeling, how they were nearly drowned in the souls that poured in from man's demise but since have no longer had any sinners to ferry. and for me, it means they have nearly totally withdrawn into themself, into the memory they have of love and are now forever looking inward. in my version of events, i do have the ferryman live without confronting v1, but it's honestly a complete accident - since my v1 is always flipping a coin, it does so when boarding the ferryman's ship and so they take it as payment. the action does surprise and fascinate v1 briefly, leading it to produce another coin in front of the ferryman to see if they'll take a second (an attempt to establish a pattern). but when they indicate that they need no more, v1 simply moves on and largely places them out of its mind, especially considering the rest of its passage. for the ferryman, they are as detached as ever, knowing not where v1 came from nor willing to wonder at this point. they are wholly within themself by now, totally isolated in their love for their idea of gabriel with so little else on their infinite ocean. they feel their illness working itself impossibly deep, yet know they will never succumb.

("small" side note to end things, i’m so TORN about whether or not I want them to have had any additional contact with gabriel after he saved them. i do think him coming to them once and never again has a distinct melancholy in it, one that suits someone at sea forever thinking of the one they love and knowing they will never come home to see them. and it sort of goes both ways in a sense, that the ferryman is both the sailor and the lover waiting, so it’s in line with their character. BUT in terms of gabriel’s character, i do like him attempting to keep some connection to the ferryman due to his increasing fear that he’s failing them, that he’s failing all the sinners of hell. with every crime he commits against them all, he feels that weight growing on his back and so he wants to have one sinner he could protect, one that he could save from heaven’s punishments. and so he sees them, very rarely, usually briefly, but always with words of comfort, of understanding, of affection. he knows their feelings for him and he can’t know how to respond, he wonders often if his visits do more harm than good...but they have nothing else, no one in that freezing rain. so i just. MAYBE i’m soft and sometimes i want him to give them a little warmth, a brief window where they stop working and their cough lightens. AUGH)

#i think when the ferryman finds sleep #they often believe they will die of whatever they're sick with #and things seem to turn into a bad dream. all of hell a nightmare #and they're so close to finding heaven when they wake #but they always wake on their ship or cabin once more #back to work it is!#also think they have a room for gabe somewhere on that ship. just in case.#SORRY i've been developing on them lately actually.....more fallen gabe arc stuff......#ferryman lives. they can swim even if leviathan destroyed their ship!!#and get to fixing it oh good lird.....#cake answers

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0verthinking1t · 1 year

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A severe case of The Wiggles

Good morning ADHDblr, I was today years old (29 and a half, a full 3 decades I have not known this) when I realized something important. Context first tho, let me define The Wiggles:

A case of The Wiggles: also known as "brain Zoomies", simply "Zoomies", etc. A temporary state where your brain and body respond to fatigue by becoming uncomfortably hyperactive and stimulation seeking. One who experiences The Wiggles may experience things like jitteriness, irritability, anxiety/stress, mood swings, physical discomfort, feeling like they're stuck on fast-forward and can't slow down their thoughts or actions, feeling like they need something important but nothing around them is the right thing, fast-paced and compulsive fidgeting, intrusive impulses and thoughts, inability to sustain focus on one thing at a time.... You get it. All the hallmarks of the ADHD experience, happening very loudly, all at once. To an outside eye, it may look like the person is super alert and hyper, or like they're being overstimulated and overwhelmed, but it's usually the exact opposite— our brains run out of energy to work on being good and productive, and our muscles get restless and tight from lack of exercise, so we start going haywire from being both burnt out and understimulated.

For example, many ADHD children start getting The Wiggles later in their school day and have trouble sitting through later classes, but having a substantial amount of recess time halfway and an extracurricular activity of their choice gives them the relief they need to make it through everything comfortably. As another, personal example, I'm especially prone to the wiggles early in the morning. It takes me a long time to shake off sleep inertia, especially if I have to wake up to an alarm, so I can get stuck in limbo for an hour or two. my brain is having trouble making the chemical shift to alertness, so my thoughts, feelings, needs, and responses are all an unreliable mess— fortunately, once I find the right activity or topic of interest to anchor to (like a walk outside, a snack with a strong flavor, a weird texture to rub, or even reading a random spam email) everything starts slotting into place all at once, and the wiggles start to ease off.

Ok, accidentally long explanation over. The very important thing I realized..... Is that The Wiggles..... Aren't the symptom itself. Just like hunger is the body signalling a need for fuel that's not being met, or shivering is the body signalling a need for warmth that's not being met, The Wiggles are a signal from the brain and body that a need is not being met— an intense need to stim. No holding in, no being discreet, no masking, just grabbing the nearest bumpy texture, clicking object, or piece of string and going to town on that repetitive action. It's grounding, it's focusing, and the little pleasure of doing it helps nudge the dopamine process back to work.

#adhd #mental disability #mental health #personal experience #mental illness #self care #neurodiversity #life hacks #stim toys #stimming #zoomies

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