NOT TREVOR SAYING TO AMANDA HEY BIG GIRL

you’re so freaking pretty i can imagine eddie and steve fighting over you

JDJSDJDJSJJDDJ

2023 // 2021 - 📸

boy how do you reblog such great things

been cultivating my dash for years. i also found most of them in my drafts

my last "relationship" taught me that u could be gaslit and also gaslight urself into believing ur in love with someone. so that's just something i've been processing and choking on for the past few years every now and then. how to reconcile with that and trust myself again idrk. my life has been so stagnant since then because im simply so sick of people.

oh my fucking gOD LMAO

This is one of my favourite edit

❝ My apologies if I have given offense. ❞

— from Sontna on @luna-mxth ;v;

As Revenelan realized the awkwardness of the situation, a sudden warmth crept up her cheeks, pinched pink by a twinge of embarrassment. She held a hand up, as if to disspell the Inquisitor's apology, and feverently shook her head.

"No, no, it was I that was in error," Revenelan winced, the corners of her lips curling into an apologetic frown. "Ir abelas, lethallin. I overstepped by making an assumption about your faith. I will do better to be less presumptuous in the future."

As she spoke, a murky discomfort gnawed at her conscience – the tight stretch of adjusting to unfamiliarity as Revenelan grappled with how quickly her world had opened up since committing herself to the Inquisition. On one hand, she was glad to to see so many of the Elvhen in one place, and yet to her own dismay, a great number seemed to have turned away from the light of the Creators. While she had known that not all Elvhen lived as the Dalish did, it was still a grounding moment for Revenelan to see exactly how far her people have strayed from their true selves.

That was the inception of Revenelan's mistake. It was the Inquisitor's vallaslin that had strengthened her resolve to join the Inquisition's efforts; surely, her kin would understand the plight of Clan Aravun's need for protection in such troubling times, and Revenelan would be all too happy to support one of her own. The Inquisitor, to her, was a sign from the Creators, a confirmation of Revenelan's efforts to pull her clan from the shadows and into the world at large – and yet it appeared that Sontna, too, tread a different path than most Dalish.

"If you don't mind me asking," Revenelan searched Sontna's golden eyes with interest, her natural curiosity getting the better of her. "Which clan is it that you come from, if any at all?"

hello yes i'm thinking ab throat training w lando

it can either go two ways, he'd either be super nice or mean (which i'm obsessed w)

thinking ab nice lando rn, our sweet baby would be so cute. "tap my thigh twice if you need to take a breath, baby." he presses a final kiss to your lips before replacing it with his cock, slapping the tip against your cheeks. "there you go, such a good fuckin' girl." it takes you quite a bit to get used to the stretch of his cock in your throat, the burn becoming more and more comfortable with every thru

or, super mean. loving when you gag around him or cry, tears showing how pathetic and slutty you look just for him <3 he loves you so much:').

if you tease him, maybe flirting with the other guys or do something to piss him off, he'll make sure that you take it and he'll make sure you choke/gag til you start fucking crying <3 i need him rn lol "this what u wanted huh? acting like a desperate slut all day, teasing mec but you can't even take my cock? crying for me?”

NEKSKDJAJJDJSJA THE WAY THIS HAD ME SCREAAAAMING oh my god I need to take a breather because this is too fucking much. this just tapped into so many kinks I have and I can’t DEAL

Steve gets hanahaki, coughs up yellow acacias if he so much as thinks of Eddie too long. He tries not to think of the way his eyes soften when he talks to the kids, or the laugh lines he already has curved in his cheeks where Steve wishes he could put his hands. Ever the self-sacrificing person, Steve doesn't say a word about it even as he hacks up bouquets of it, but Robin and Dustin are the first to know something is wrong, and encourage him to go to the hospital, so he does. The doctors tell him about the surgery, which would remove the roots that are threatening to pierce his lungs, but that he would lose the love he has for the long-haired man. They tell him that many people choose death.

"That's stupid," Steve says, "if I die because of a hopeless crush, my friends will find a way to bring me back to life just to kill me themselves."

He agrees to the surgery, and they let him make a phone call before they get him a room, so he calls Robin and lets her know everything. She sighs but says he's doing the right thing, and Steve gives her permission to tell Dustin as well, since he was worried. While Steve is in the hospital being prepared for surgery, Robin calls Dustin and lets him know the situation, and he's understandably upset that Steve was quiet about it for so long about it, but sighs in relief that he's not the romantic idiot Dustin thought he was. Dustin, not knowing who the flowers were for, accidentally mentions it to the group since it was DnD night, and Eddie jumps from his chair and runs to the phone to call Robin back. The kids hear him pleading with her for an answer, then a huff of disbelief, and a silence, before Eddie inhales deeply and says, "It's okay. If he was able to fall in love with me once, then the capacity for it is there. I just have to... meet him where he is, and we'll go from there together, right? So it's okay. We still-- I still have him. We still have time."

omg so i wanted SOOO badly to do a little volleying back to this and like do a proper little write up of what happens next in response for you, but my brain is just not working with me on it and i am SO upset about that, but this has been sitting in my ask box for a while now and i feel bAD for letting it sit for so long so i am just going to publish it now but.

BUT.

I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I LOVE THISSSS OMG. it's so funny too bc i have never really cared much for the hanahaki trope before, like i knew it existed but i never really read it or looked for it or anything, i was pretty indifferent to it, but there have been a couple ive seen for this fandom and for steddie specifically and HOHOHOHO oh my god i eat that shit UP its so fucking GOOD it just works so damn well for them and i LOVE IT.

and this THISSSSS is so good omg.

"if he was able to fall in love with me once, then the capacity for it is there" SCREAM SCREAM SCREAAAAM!!!! eddie thinking he's going to be too late, but that's okay because if it happened once it can happen again and this time it'll be different!! this time he wont let it get to this point!!!

except EXCEPT!!! he rushes to the hospital and he makes it there RIGHT as steve is about to be wheeled back for the surgery and he's breathless from sprinting and his heart is hammering in his chest because what if he tells steve the feelings are returned but he doesnt believe him?? what if he still tries to go through with the surgery anyways? or what if hes doing this because he doesnt want those feelings?? but eddie doesn't care, he's got a chance here and he's going to take it. so he pleads with the doctors, begs them to give him a minute to talk to steve, and they look to steve and he gives his permission. and so they leave the room, leave steve and eddie together. alone.

and eddie tells steve, he confesses everything that he's been holding back too, he tells him that he loves him. and when he's done he holds his breath, he hopes he wasnt too late, wishes that this does the trick to convince steve otherwise, he wonders he wonders he wonders.

and then steve coughs. and eddie's breath catches in his throat, everything on the verge of crashing down around him because oh fuck it didnt?

but when steve pulls his hand away from his mouth, it's empty. there's no flowers, no leaves, no blood. no nothing. his hand is empty.

he looks up at eddie with huge eyes, back down at his hand, then back up at eddie. he clears his throat, coughs again, still nothing.

and then his whole face lights up. and its magic, it's fucking magic. the sick pallor of steve's face clears as the color returns, the rattle of his breaths quiets until it's gone, until he inhales deep and blows it out in a smooth, easy breath.

"eddie," he says, and he grabs onto eddie's hand. "i love you." he says, like it's suddenly the easiest thing.

eddie laughs, he laughs so bright, and he doesn't even care as he practically throws himself at steve, catching his face between his hands and pulling him in for a kiss.

he almost lost him, but he didn't. he didn't.

"i love you, steve, i love you so much."

it's that easy.

Festivid 2023 Recs - Part 01

My first batch of recs! Some fun and sweet and funny vids from animated shows, comedies, a trillion media adaptations, THE CHOCOLATE GUY, Shakespeare, and more. Incredible work from amazing vidders this year.

Hard Times by elipie. Star Trek Lower Decks. Boimler. A Boimler vid! To Paramore! Boimler really does have some HARD TIMES. But in the end he has all of his friends that also go through hard times and are at his side! The timing in this vid is so much fun. It’s so energetic and full of shenanigans. And it makes me CACKLE. A must-see for Lower Decks fans!

Here It Goes Again by eruthros. Moby Dick, multi-source. Ishmael/Queequeg. Soooooo many different Moby Dick live action and animated shows and films! This is incredibly fun and a joy to see the sheer amount of times this story has been made for the screen. All to OK Go! #teamwhale 📝 Lots of notes at the vidder's journal about the Moby Dick adaptations.

She’s a Lady by lily_the_kid. Christine (1983). I'M SCREAAAAMING IN LAUGHTER AND AWE, the brilliance of Tom Jones song for the car. the car as a character. I’m sorry this is one of my favorite kinds of things to vid and it’s even better when I get to see people make vids I love making cause i get to enjoy the fruits of the vid joy!! This is so funny and serious at the same time. crack treated seriously. Horror + comedy + seriousness = my jam. Amazing. I’m also admiring all the subtle musicality of the editing, too because this song is delicious with the drums and horn section. #TeamChristine

Teenagers by tafadhali for Dimension 20. Adventurers do whatever we want, with no consequence. THIS VID IS JOY. I couldn’t help but grin during this whole vid. The transitions are so much FUN and i love the way the vidder uses the miniatures throughout the vid with everyone’s reactions and silly faces. Oh what a great way to run with this song too.

Your Horoscope for Today by Josett_Arnauld. Game Changer. I don’t know this show at all but I believe it’s some kind of comedy/improv thing, judging by the antics here. And they're SUCH good antics. Comedy show + Weird Al = VID OTP! This is chaotic joy and silliness and a must-see for anyone who wants a dose of laughs. It’s so smartly timed and the transitions are so fun too.

The Only Way To See by BeatriceEagle. OMG it’s a vid about The Chocolate Guy!!!!! The song choice is so lovely tribute to the creative process. Om nom nom nom this is delicious editing.

I’m Going To Make You Love Me by periru3 and tafadhali, a Christine (1983) A DUET! FROM TWO VIDDERS! This is so fucking clever and funny and utterly fucking brilliant. This absolutely is smashing all my horror/humor buttons.

Everybody Talks by absternr. Much Ado About Nothing. Filmed stage productions! TO NEON TREES! The joy of theater, and these productions in particular! Some I recognized and others I hadn’t seen. Oh, it’s so much FUN. Delightful editing, great use of the song and I definitely ran to drop this vid link in in several of my Neon Trees and Shakespeare friends laps.

Caught in Hit and Run by turquoisetumult. Clue (1985). The vidder used Paula Abdul for the vid!! And I can’t emphasize enough how much fun this vid is. The editing, the comedy, the EDITING! It’s bouncy and grooving along with the physical comedy SO WELL.

If you wanna break my cold, cold heart...

It’s become very clear to me that I’m extremely lost in The Tortured Poet’s Department which I absolutely expected and it’s no fucking wonder my two hyperfixations are colliding. Because after ugly crying through it the first few handful of times about my own life, I’m now just telegraphing that emotion onto a tv character, which is super healthy. 

Seriously though,  is anyone else imagining Crowley somehow becoming obsessed with this album  while he’s still trying to work through Aziraphale fucking off back to heaven?! Baby girl full on alternately sobbing and manically laughing  in the back of the Bentley while Taylor Swift makes him feel hella seen? Compiling his own playlist of the tracks that just strip him raw?

Which, in my mind, have got to be - 

“Down Bad”

For a moment I knew cosmic love… / Now I’m down bad, crying at the gym / Everything comes out teenage petulance / Fuck it if I can’t have him. / I might just die, it would make no difference. / Down bad waking up in blood / Staring at the sky, come back and pick me up / Fuck it if I can’t have us / I might not just get up, I might stay down bad…

Obvi the go-to track when he just wants to wallow in it. Just like drowning his sorrows in that pub after the angel was discorporated during the first Armageddon, ‘fuck it if I can’t have us’. Hard Crowley vibes.

“My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys”

There was a litany of reasons why / We could've played for keeps this time / I know I'm just repeating myself / Put me back on my shelf / But first - pull the string / And I'll tell you that he runs / Because he loves me. / Cause you should've seen him / When he first saw me…

My boy only breaks his favorite toys / I'm queen of sand castles he destroys / Cause I knew too much / There was danger in the heat of my touch / He saw forever so he smashed it up / Oh, my boy only breaks his favorite toys

I feel like this is their entire relationship; Aziraphale keeps him at arm’s length because it’s fucking dangerous but Crowley gets destroyed everytime.  ‘He runs because he loves me’ - what a devastating thought. They both do, gang, and that’s so sad.

“So Long London”

And you say I abandoned the ship / But I was going down with it / My white knuckle dying grip / Holding tight to your quiet resentment and / My friends said it isn't right to be scared / Every day of a love affair / Every breath feels like rarest air / When you're not sure if he wants to be there

So how much sad did you think I had / Did you think I had in me? / How much tragedy? / Just how low did you think I'd go? / Before I'd self-implode / Before I'd have to go be free

This one has gotta be for those times that he’s ready to fight back a little bit, and feels pissed about how much he tried to keep their shit together. Aziraphale thinks he gave up, he thinks Aziraphale gave up, and sometimes he thinks about fucking off from London too. But he won’t. Hopefully?

“Guilty As Sin?”

What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh / Only in my mind? / One slip and falling back into the hedge maze / Oh what a way to die / I keep recalling things we never did / Messy top lip kiss / How I long for our trysts / Without ever touching his skin / How can I be guilty as sin?

These fatal fantasies / Giving way to labored breath / Taking all of me / We've already done it in my head / If it's make believe / Why does it feel like a vow / We'll both uphold somehow?

What if I roll the stone away? / They're gonna crucify me anyway / What if the way you hold me / Is actually what's holy? / If long suffering propriety / Is what they want from me / They don't know how you've haunted me / So stunningly / I choose you and me … Religiously

Baby needs a song about longing. 6,000 years of longing. And uncertainty about whatever they are.  This one screaaaams Crowley’s questions about the group of the two of them. It’s so painful. Also, you know, the whole ‘sin’ thing. They spent so much time never touching, but y’all know Crowley feels that guilt anyway. Oof. 

ALSO, you know Aziraphale would be wrecked by this one too. I feel like the worst part about the two of them is they're both suffering the same thing, in agonizingly similar ways. They're both carrying that horrible guilt. It's gutwrenching.

“loml”

Oh, what a valiant roar / What a bland goodbye / The coward claimed he was a lion / I'm combing through the braids of lies / "I'll never leave" … / "Never mind" / Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire / Your arson's match your somber eyes / And I'll still see it until I die / You're the loss of my life

More sadness about Aziraphale’s departure. What a shit way to end things, what a cowardly path he took (in Crowley’s mind) after poor Crowley tried his absolute-fuckin’-best to put his heart on the line. Definitely 'the loss of my life.'

“The Black Dog”

Old habits die screaming / I move through the world with the heartbroken / My longings stay unspoken / And I may never open up the way I did for you / And all of those best laid plans / You said I needed a brave man / Then proceeded to play him / Until I believed it too / And it kills me / I just don't understand

Now I want to sell my house and set fire to all my clothes / And hire a priest to come and exorcize my demons / Even if I die screaming / And I hope you hear it

This one is definitely for those times when Crowley wants to scour Aziraphale from his existence but yo, a habit built over literally ALL OF TIME isn’t going to die just screaming. If it can even die at all. 

“Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus”

You said some things that I can't unabsorb / You turned me into an idea of sorts / You needed me, but you needed drugs more / And I couldn't watch it happen / I changed into goddesses, villains, and fools / Changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules / All to outrun my desertion of you / And you just watched it

If you wanna break my cold, cold heart / Just say, "I loved you the way that you were" / If you wanna tear my world apart / Just say you've always wondered

Ya know our boy has guilt over letting Aziraphale go where he absolutely could not follow, and I feel like he’d probably spend a bunch of time trying to change a ton of things in his life  just to avoid ‘the desertion of you’ but yooo, what cuts right to the core is ‘I love you the way that you were.’  All this poor demon wanted to hear, wants to hear. 

“How Did it End?”

​​We were blind to unforeseen circumstances / We learn the right steps to different dances / And fell victim to interlopers' glances / Lost the game of chance, what are the chances?

It's happenin' again / How did it end? / I can't pretend like I understand / How did it end?

Definitely another one for wallowing. Have I found myself screeching out ‘how did it end?!’ everytime it comes up? Yes. And I feel like a drunk Crowley would too. ‘It’s happening again’ would definitely hit home to him, how many times have they been through this? 

“The Prophecy”

But I looked to the sky and said / Please / I've been on my knees / Change the prophecy / Don't want money / Just someone who wants my company / Let it once be me / Who do I have to speak to / About if they can redo / The prophecy?

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate / No sign of soulmates / I'm just a paperweight / In shades of greige / Spending my last coin so someone will tell me / It'll be ok / Please

At some point it’s likely he figures out all of this was definitely always going to happen, right? Little snake has always been at the whims of the inevitable (ineffable), and all he ever tried to do was make his own choices but he’s stuck in circumstances he absolutely cannot change. This one is all about pleading. Bargaining phase, you know. But ‘just someone who wants my company’ absolutely kills me. Somebody tell this demon it’ll be okay.

And so yeah I’m imagining the Thin Dark Duke is just playing ALL of those on repeat forever, until he finally gets to this place: 

“Imgonnagetyouback”

Whether I'm gonna be your wife or / Gonna smash up your bike, I / Haven't decided yet / But I'm gonna get you back

I  hear the whispers in your eyes / I'll make you wanna think twice / You'll find that you were never not mine / You're mine

Bygones will be bygone eras fadin' into gray / We broke all the pieces but still want to play the game / Told my friends, "I hate you but I love you just the same" / Pick your poison, babe / I'm poison either way

Because you know it’s SO Crowley to be absolutely fucking furious at the end of it all, but resolved to get Aziraphale back under any circumstances. I love him running around with the energy of ‘Whether I'm gonna curse you out or take you back to my house, I haven't decided yet’ but he IS resolute in seeing his stupid angel again. This is as positive as he’s gonna get, and I love that for him. 

Did I spend way too much time writing this out for absolutely no reason? Yes. But gang, I have to believe Taylor Swift can reach anyone, even ethereal entities. Joiiiiin the Tortured Poet’s Department, Crowley, you know you want to…

Eight Cups a Day Finale

A Star-Studded Future

“Nrgh, mm! Oh god, oh FUCK!” said Danny as Eddy slammed harder into him. “God, fuck me harder, daddy. Make me screaaaam.”

At that Eddy just chuckled. “God, what was in Forde that made you into such a needy slut?”

“Dunno, whatever it was that made ya lust for man-ass,” Danny quipped back as Eddy relentlessly pounded him. Before Danny could continue his trash talking, he gasped as his back arched in a perfect C. “Woah! I’m fucking close, I’m gonna…!” Danny let out a small whine as Eddy wrapped his arms around him. Leaving behind little kisses up Danny’s neck, Eddy eventually began to make out with Danny—silencing his screams as the two came. Ropes of cum landed all over the freshly-washed sheets. Shame for Forde’s detergent supplies, but that wasn’t Eddy’s problem.

“Mmm, so fucking nice,” said Eddy. He ran his finger down the sheets and scooped up some of the cum. It tasted much sweeter than he expected. Was that an effect of being a species like himself or did Danny-boy just have a nice, pineapple-filled diet? “Goddamn, that was good. Really needed that to start the morning.” He lightly slapped Danny’s ass while the cum dribbled out.

“Whatever, homo,” said Danny, eyes rolling. After a few seconds of disentangling from each other, he rolled off the bed and made his way over to the backroom, not caring how much he was leaking or the mess he was leaving behind. “Clean up the sheets and shit. I gotta take a shower,” he said in an uncaring tone.

“What, no cuddling?”

“Cuddle with yourself. I reek after you rubbed your torso and shot your loads all over me last night.” With that, Danny slammed the door behind him.

Eddy shrugged and put on some of his clothes. His host hadn’t brought another change of clothes and he wasn’t Forde’s size, so he had to settle for the shirt that reeked of sweat and the shorts with cum stains. “Not like I care too much,” he said, shrugging. Speaking out loud was beginning to be a habit of his—despite the lack of memory of him doing that. “Must’ve been a Forde thing,” he reasoned. Despite all that happened and how much he wished it hadn’t, he had to accept the reality.

Eddy wasn’t Eddy, but he was close to it. The small parts of him that wasn’t Eddy were that of Forde and his memory of who Eddy was. Would that be enough to fully play the role? Eddy wasn’t sure, but he also wasn’t sure of who he was, only who he was supposed to be. How were they expected to play this role for? It was difficult for them to even achieve this sort of bond with their hosts. Now they had to play pretend for the rest of their hosts’ natural lifespan? They would be impostors for the rest of their lives, carefully calculating their behavior to fit their host as best as possible.

And yet, just the thought of that made Eddy’s shoulders slump. It wasn’t just a burden, but a limit on his life. He knew Eddy’s plans for the future, but the picture-perfect life tilted just the tiniest bit. He was Eddy, but enough of him wasn’t Eddy that he felt like something completely new. It was a dysphoria he couldn’t quite shake off. Did he deserve the right to uproot the wishes of the original Eddy? Or the wishes of his friends and loved ones?

Where did Eddy end, and where did this not-Eddy begin?

“Wonder how long we can keep it up…”

“Keep what up?” Eddy turned around and saw Makoto walking around with just a jockstrap on. “’fraid our folks are gonna find out ‘bout us? I wouldn’t worry.”

At the very least, both Eddy and not-Eddy disliked Makoto just as much. He wouldn’t have to pretend that part. “Just because Forde liked being just as much a slob as you are doesn’t mean you’re gonna blend in perfectly.”

“Oh c’mon, li’l Ed,” said Makoto, grinning at him. “Don’t be such a pessimist. We’ve done the impossible already. Stopped an alien invasion and got some sweet bodies outta it.” As he spoke, he gyrated his hips and even thrust into the air a few times.

Eddy stared, but he wasn’t amused. “Like Nolan said, Makoto, we killed these guys and took their place. We’re like those freaky bodysnatchers in the movies.”

“God, now I know you’re gonna do well as Eddy,” said Makoto, dropping his grin. “Just as much of a killjoy as the original. Go blow a few more loads into Danny-boy so you can actually crack a smile.” Smirking, Makoto added, “Or else it’ll be me coating his walls.” Before Eddy could reply, Makoto spun on his heel and walked away.

“Piece of shit,” was all Eddy said before sauntering towards the living room, hands in his pockets and slouching.

It was still rather early—only about 7 am—but most of the hosts were already milling around in the living room. Because of the dilemma that occurred last night, most of them hadn’t gotten much of a chance to really get to know and explore their new forms. “It’s hard to figure out who or what we’re supposed to be.” It was one of Forde’s older friends, a man by the name of Oscar. “We’re not really these creatures, not really Forde, but not really any of our hosts.”

He was a more thoughtful individual than Eddy was, so he figured he might as well just speak to him about it.

“You thinking about it as well?” asked Eddy as he slid over to an open seat next to Alan.

The poor man was looking around, eyes eagerly taking in every sight like a newborn. Since there was very little of the old man’s mind left by the time Forde’s offspring took over, he was in an “awkward situation,” as Nolan put it. Eddy preferred the term “horrifying,” but he kept it to himself. No need to bring the mood down even further. Turning back to face Oscar, Eddy continued. “I feel like Eddy, but not really at the same time. Like I’m playing a role.”

Oscar nodded. “One way to see it is that we’re the offspring of Forde and our host. In that way, our existence is a lot more humanitarian. We’re just children that have to play pretend in to keep the order.” He took a deep breath and crossed his legs together, as if meditating. It was a habit of Oscar whenever too mcuh stress took ahold of him. Eddy could at least see that.

“So you’re fine with this,” said Eddy.

“No, but I’m not un-fine with it, either.” Was that what peace looked like? Oscar didn’t seem satisfied or dissatisfied. He simply accepted it and moved on. Perhaps Eddy should try the same, but that niggling feeling in the back of his head wouldn’t disappear. “You won’t be fine with it until you’re fine with who you are, Eddy,” said Oscar.

Eddy rose from where he had fallen on the ground. “Always were good at scaring the crap outta me,” he said, rubbing his head. “Get out of my head, Oscar.”

“You told me what was bothering you. I’m just trying to help.”

“Still on it, Ed-boy?” Eddy groaned as Makoto walked into the living room once more. At the very least, he was far more modest. Not only that, but Makoto was also carrying a duffel bag. “Figured it’s about time we parted ways,” he said when everyone’s eyes went over to his bag. “There’s no point in staying here while everyone messing up my vibes.” Swiping a pair of discarded sunglasses from the table, Makoto put them on and flashed a peace sign. He looked like such a douchebag. “Got a life to lead, y’know? Y’all should do the same. ‘s all we can do for our hosts and our species or whatever. No need to grieve when we can party.”

What did that even mean? Even before the invasion, Eddy and Makoto were simply incompatible. Just sharing their thoughts or perspectives out loud led to arguments and fighting, as if they couldn’t tolerate the existence of such feelings. They were oil and water. Or rather, water and Rubidium, as a certain fictional con-artist once put it as. Despite the gravity of the situation, this was just another case of the two of them being unable to agree. Despite the familiarity, Eddye still felt sick as he stared Makoto down. “Doesn’t it even matter to you, ya prick?” said Eddy. Before the two of them could start fighting, Oscar cleared his throat.

“Say goodbye to Forde and Nolan first,” said Oscar, a relaxed yet enigmatic smile on his face. “It’s rude to leave the nest without properly thanking your parents first.”

“...They’re still having a chat...” said Makoto, gaze growing distant. The duffel bag slipped from his grasp as he was lost in thought. “They haven’t stopped talking since last night. I don’t know how Forde’s doing, or if he’s even gonna get any better.”

An uncomfortable silence spread over the room. Forde hadn’t been able to see any of them eye-to-eye since the previous night. They had won, and yet the look of pure despair on Forde’s face sapped any joy any of his offspring could have felt in that instance. Without a leader, they were stuck in that awkward point where none of them could figure out what to do or who they even were.

Children imitate their parents, thought Eddy, but are we supposed to imitate Forde when parts of us are already Forde? Oscar said we were like Forde and our hosts’ kids, but… why do I feel sick just being alive? Is that part of childhood as well?

There were no answers to that. The invaders, now much more docile and depressed, simply conversed on ideas of what they could do. Even what they considered themselves as was no longer accurate. Though Forde had won them their freedom, they were left in the uncomfortable position of defining what their freedom now was.

It was impossible to see the stars in town. To do so, Nolan would have to organize another trip, and he doubted Forde was in any state, physical or emotional, to do so. “Sun’s been up for a while,” he told Forde, who remained huddled in a cocoon of blankets. “You don’t want to get up? At the very least, stretch your legs?”

No response, as usual. Nolan sighed and peeled the curtains to allow the sunlight in. Forde wasn’t a morning person, from what Nolan could recall, but Forde had been catatonic for the past few hours. “I’m not leaving this room without you,” he said. He paused and focused on the memories he could access, he remembered a certain device tucked away Forde’s closet. It was a gift from Nolan from their childhood that Forde refused to throw away despite how much dust it had collected.

A gift from an unrequited love.

Nolan—the creature inside of Nolan—wondered what exactly the real Nolan would think of this. Would he be touched or disgusted? Did he appreciate like this new Nolan did? Or was this some kind of twisted victory for Forde?

Nolan shook his head. There would be time for such thoughts later. For now, Forde needed him.  He walked towards the center of the room and turned on the projector.

It wasn’t quite the planetarium, but it would do. The sky wasn’t the same as that night, but it was close enough. Just as these creatures weren’t quite their hosts, they would have to do. “We’re trying so hard to be human, to be normal,” Nolan muttered out loud, another habit from Forde, “doesn’t that give us value as well?” He stared up at the false stars spinning on the ceiling and wondered where had they come from? Or had they always been dwellers of the sea?

They were liars and fakes. Most people would think they had little value. Had Forde ordered them to, most of them would’ve swallowed the salt with little hesitation without any of the memories of personality of their original hosts fully absorbed. Now it was far too late. Forde had given them the gift of life—of awareness. Their lives were their own to decide. Wasn’t that in itself beautiful? Worthy of being alive?

Nolan wasn’t sure. In all honesty, he wasn’t exactly how much of himself was Nolan, Forde, and his very own self. Yet the feeling ballooning in his chest had so much weight and shined just as bright as any star that he refused to believe they had any less value.

Authentic or not, original or stolen, their lives were their own.

“Thank you, Forde,” said Nolan in a louder voice as he slipped under the sheets and embraced Forde’s still body. “What you did wasn’t a mistake. We’re alive because of you. And we get to see sights like these because of you.” His hands searched until he found Forde’s own. Their finger intertwined, without any resistance from Forde. “Let’s go camping again, just like that night. But, let’s make it our own. Not our parents, but our very own memory.” Tears had begun to spill onto the bed. Nolan wasn’t sure if they were his own or not. “Wouldn’t that be something, right?”

…

…

…

“… I wanna see those stars again...” Forde squeezed Nolan’s hand back.

It was an awkward step forward, but it was a large leap for them all nonetheless.

like i swear im done haaaahaaaaaaaar

does anyone just feel a sickfucking resentment whenever they see anyone remotely interested in anything any more. idk. it gets harder to not submit to being such a bitter, jaded bitch sometimes but what else do you have. trying genuinely to find some fucking interest in any of it, or something to just help me bide my time til i fucking die and none of it fucking helps. the number of failed, stupid hobbies, attempts at outings, etc. and i just cry over it all, cuz in the end i wasted so much money and time and i felt nothing but fucking dogshit. idk it feels so fucking dumb. its such a dumb thing to fucking cry about sometimes and its so embarrassing because i know people would do nothing but roll their eyes & grit their teeth and tell me i just havent found anything yet or its not important and its like i dont know. its not just this is it its like. something something i feel so fucking barren in every aspect of my fucking personhood because i cant seem to fucking do anything right even the most bare fucking essentials. something something. im not just lonely bc i dont have people to talk to right now but about it being a repeated fucking problem and not havingany means of ever getting myself out of the fucking isolated hole im in. stupid shit like this being wrapped up into it. i dont have anything to put on dating apps oranything to talk abt with people because i think im like a fucking ghost at this point, im struggling half the time with basic fucking comprehension , my fucking brains slowed down to a grinding hault and im losing so many years and i dont know where theyre going just that its nonstop neverending never any way out never any improvement im not getting out etc ... because i cant fucking do anything but spiral downwards and theres nothing fucking else to do any more and hasnt been for a long fucking time. something something get fucking help like for fucking what at anymore. think they all justgave up because its just a road to fucking nowhere and theres no helping me not in a fucking melodramatic, oh i was alwaysss doomed way, but in the pathetic fucking nothing way . the youre not depressed way you need to fucking kill yourself because thats the sensible option why the fuck would you want to exist as yourself thats moronic bc nobody fucking likes you nobody ever would theres nothing remotely fucking notable nevermind likable nevermind lovable does anyone feel insane i keep crying bc it doesnt feel fucking fair that it takes so much time and energy and everything just to not even not-function but to just fucking coast sometimes. i keep thinking abt how sad i was as a teenager and how much it fucking drained and hurt all the time to keep trying to keep up with everyone like pleaseee please fucking like me and for what for what . i dont think a single person remembers who i am at this point and i used to think i was crazy and i still catch myself thinking it now but no they do not. like you. nobody likesss youuuu.... you iddiottttttttttttt... something, something AHHAAA THE BAD THOUGHTS! ARE SIMPLY NOT TRUE! ON ACCOUNT OF THEM BEING BAD!!! but screaaaam it turns out they are and they prove to be every single time...... keep fucking sobbing about how youre never the priority, my guy you are not fucking remotely anything to anybody because youre nothing and you are alone you are the failure you always thought you were nobody fucking likes you youre going mental trying to leech onto people and its not like anythings fucking different its just more detached like god why do i fucking show up for work and even fucking bother pretending. like fine im not actively trying toget close any more. im long past .that. go into work smile try to not fuck it all up come home and cry. but why even fucking pretend im fucking paper mache craft of a person does anyone want to set fire to everything before they die just for some vague satisfaction like

i keep wanting to fucking detach from everything and run away and never fucking see anyone ever again in some fucking fantasy world where its possivle to fucking torch everything. but like even that isnt real is it like is IT bc its just in my fucking head where i torch everything no matter what and nothing MATTERS IN THERE ITS JUST A STUPID LOOP and by gdo i wish i could remain apathetic but i start going nuts every time im stuck in a situation playing house and nicies too long its poisonnnn its poisonousssss help me CHRISTTTTTTTTTT BECAUSE i cant die in this house i keep thinking abt when i off myself trying to come up with solutions to never being found i am not fucking being another fucking husk of a fucking being not for forever I NEED. TO. DISAPPEA.R COMPLETELY. NOOO REMAINSSS CUNT NO TRACE POOF

me thinking about how if co/rey c/unningham was my boyfriend I would just be so obsessed with him and thinking that he looked adorable doing ANYTHING and I’d just gaze at him thinking “oh my god you are SO cute” like cuteness aggression and wanting to grab his face and cuddle him and bite him and wanting to screaaaam into a pillow LOL

but ALSO... consider this... if I can feel like this about an f/o perhaps they could feel the same way about ME?? :0

Break Open the Sky, a Tales of Symphonia ‘fic (Chapter 9)

Current Word Count: 65,066 Summary: What kind of “Hero” of Regeneration would she be to leave an infant to fend for itself? Someone had to have left it here for a reason. The question was, of course, why? But as she lifted the little thing carefully into her arms, the motion reminding her of nights so far in the past, now, the why seemed almost tragically clear: this baby was of mixed blood. Chapter Summary: Raine, Regal, and the children head to the Crestfield Orphanage. Pairing/Characters: Raine, Original Characters, will also feature Genis, Regal, and Sheena. Endgame is Regal/Raine. Extra Info: This is technically an Accidental Baby Acquisition story, but I liken it more to “Doorstep Baby” literature because it sure ain’t cute. Rating: Mature, for themes. Genre: Eventual romance, gen, family, character study.

The title is the link to Ao3 for Chapter 9! Please enjoy! 🤍

Notes are under the cut!

Reminder that Crestfield is somewhere around here on the map:

If you're wondering why I'm using the separate Tethe'alla and Sylvarant maps btw, it's because DotNW doesn't exist in my brain and I refuse to acknowledge the map used there or in Phantasia in relation to this story.

I have eventual intentions of making a nice pretty map in Photoshop someday for the way I imagine things but like, who has the time for that.

--

I decided to marry the words tech-birds and rheiards because I thought it might be cool that the name they started out as ends up obsolete as a desire rises up to manufacture them with a catchier name. Yuan would be sooo so big brain if he did that. I went feral imagining Regal sending a yearly note to Yuan like "sell me one plz" and Yuan just always says no (and not always politely).

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This chapter gives us a bit better of a peek at Regal as an empath. At least, that was my intention.

Sorry to put you on another boat, Raine, but at least Regal is trying to reassure you a bit.

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I don't know what to say about Crestfield. I wanted to paint it as a place that feels quite opposite to Hima but not necessarily for the reasons you might have expected.

--

I couldn't model George after his drama CD personality because he's SUCH AN ASSHOLE THERE. I like the idea of George being a bit of an asshole, like it's fine if he's classist and racist the way he was in the drama CD, but it still has to make sense that Regal would value George's opinion and trust him to run the company in his absence after everything that happened.

I know a lot of people let Regal blame George for Alicia's death, and plenty of folks wonder why Regal doesn't take his anger/etc out on George, but the point of Regal's character is not the guilt he feels but rather his capacity for caring and for feeling things. Literally everything about this man screaaaams "empath" to me and I think he was too busy bearing the brunt of the responsibility of Alicia's death himself to ever fully blame George (who did apologize most sincerely in the game).

Also, Regal isn't stupid. George might have helped the tragedy along in the game, but that's all he did. To compare, in the drama CD he's outright a scumbag about it, saying things like Alicia poisoned Regal's mind and he had to fire her for it (+ outright hating poor people and helping Regal's father pay off/put pressure on voters). We also can't really forget that, completely separate of George, Presea's experiment was a success. You know they were going to get their hands on Alicia one way or another. George wasn't that big of a player in the event happening and I think Regal would know that, especially after the game events.

(Someday I might give my thoughts on the drama CD alone, but for now just trust me on it if you haven't listened to it.)

Anyway, George mostly means well in this one. He doesn't understand everything but he does want Regal to be happy.

--

I really felt compelled to make it clear that Regal knows Raine can't really take advantage of him (because he's the privileged one in their relationship and she's got a good heart), but understands fully that he could take advantage of her easily and feels yucky about it.

It kind of goes back to George, who so easily assumes Raine would be the one taking advantage in this scenario (because he is a racist and classist little shit, but in this house people are allowed to Grow) even though Regal is the one with the power.

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Two and a half weeks it is. Will Raine reach a decision by then? Stay tuned next week to fiiiind outtttt.