Based on @keferon 's snow bots au

Skids would be the kind of weirdo to have snowfeet

BG3 oc question: If Orin had kidnapped your Tav/Durge, what do you think she would say to trick the party (kinda how she does to Minthara/Lae'zel/Gale/Halsin)

It's the smell, first and foremost. 

Astarion stiffens. He catches Shadowheart's wrist before she can take another step, nostrils flaring. "Blood," he growls, lips curling back to reveal whitened gums, tongue flicking out to wet chapped lips. Shadowheart nods. Blood, silence…strange and unwelcome new additions to their camp. 

Her heart catches in her throat. Ahead of them, outlined by the campfire…Joi hunched over Yenna. The girl's limbs—gods, everything pale and limp, the dirt around them turned to a thick amalgamation of blood and mud. The tiefling's tail loops around the child's right ankle. 

"Darling," Astarion says, speaking slowly and carefully, as one might to a cornered animal. The muscles in their leader's back and shoulders pull taut, but she doesn't react. Joi shakes her head, stroking Yenna's face. Over her eyes, cheeks, and the gentle slope of her nose—it's featherlight, bordering on maternal. "What…"

"You can't know what it's like…" Joi murmurs. "The voices—they don't stop. Father whispers to me, compels me, and I'm…" her chin drops to her chest. "Gods, so tired. I kept telling myself they'd stop if I held on, but…" she hesitates, choking on the words. "He'll never let me go." 

Shadowheart feels the bottom drop out of her stomach. Joi lifts her head, green eyes swimming with pain and madness. Her conscious mind says to run to her, offer comfort to her lover… 

…but there's a second voice, all instinct, that screams to run—wrong, wrong, wrong. 

"Father wanted a sacrifice," Joi holds her stare, the right corner of her mouth curling up. "He took it." Something shifts in the tiefling's features, hardening, and she digs her fingers into Yenna's face. "Perhaps I should have stayed dead—it'd have been better for everyone if I'd only stayed dead."

I am surrounded by the ways I could’ve loved you if the universe hadn’t had other plans for us. I try to remember there is a path for me and maybe I am a learning curve for you instead of a destination.

I will never know how to settle for being a pit stop when for as long as I can remember I wanted to be your Eden.

How do I accept being less than everything when I could’ve given you the world???

advice i think we should tell children is that when adults say stuff like ‘now that i’m an adult i get really excited about stuff like coffee tables and bathrooms and rugs etc’ they don’t mean ‘and now i don’t care about blorbo and squimbus from my childhood tv shows anymore’ bc your average adult still loves all the same pop culture stuff they always did; they just have a greater appreciation for the mundane as well. growing up just means you can enjoy life twice as much now. you can get really excited about a new stuffed animal AND about a new kitchen sponge. peace and love

Remember that the right person will never get tired of you even in the worst times

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

people need to understand that once you go through your worst time alone, you really don’t care who stays in your life anymore.

yes yes characters doomed by the narrative always slap BUT what about characters saved by the narrative? characters who have already given up hope and don't know they have a happy ending? characters who believe they are a lost cause, characters who feel irredeemable, characters who think there's nothing left for them, but the narrative does provide a way out? what about the characters who don't expect anything good, who don't even remember how to wish for it anymore, who get the things they need anyway? what about the characters who actively run from being saved getting saved in a way they can't stop or control. what about being saved by the narrative!!!

actually how it feels sometimes to see really good art 

i love the artistic stylings of studio ghibli as much as anyone else does but im kind of sick of anything with like vivid environments and big blue skies being branded as ghibliesque. because its like. you know where else you can hypothetically find some vivid environments with big blue skies? my friend the great and wonderful outdoors are here for you

guys I had this realization the other day that Redwall works really well for reading aloud, and kinda half-remembered something about the author reading to kids? So I looked it up to see if I had made a connection.

And it turns out, yes, actually, because he read aloud to kids at a school for the blind. But all the books they gave him to read were depressing. So he wrote Redwall, a story about heroism and courage and making it through struggles, and filled it with so many sensory, visual details so he could give them something better and I just-- that's so wholesome-- help

Video game I saw in a dream. It was in this low poly style like an older video game. You play as this character I think was meant to be a lamb, or maybe a weird mix of a lamb a mouse and a rabbit, (while not really looking like any of those things) and you’re running away from a wolf. Your objective is to last as long as possible before the wolf catches and eats you.

The house you’re running in is endless and bizarrely put together like most building interiors in dreams are (like the infinite toilet dream dimension on Reddit lol) the layout of the house is pretty detailed, you can stop and hide in places like closets or bins while the wolf looks for you, you can go up and down stairs and into rooms etc.

You never actually know where the wolf is or how close it is to you until it appears in your line of sight, it makes no noise and the game gives you no way of knowing where it is, and it’s pretty unpredictable it doesnt move at a consistent pace. When the wolf catches you there’s an animation showing it eating your character

“what was the most pain you have ever felt”

healing from someone, i once thought i would heal with

MALALA

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(good luck to all aventurine wanters!!🍀)

ⓘ This user is tired.