💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕
Aw, thank you so much! 🥹 I appreciate the prompt <3
I think my all time favourite creation is Valen. He's the greatest thing I've ever made. The time and effort that I've put into him, just countless hours building him, writing his story and lore and events in his life. Building his personality and traumas and how they relate to each other. His details and quirks and the symbolism behind him. Valen's story is 60 pages long and it just keeps growing because he's so incredibly special to me.
The effort that went into his tattoos and complexion; drawing the designs, placing them, shading them all in so they're realistic, painting his freckles and face skin texture. I have 40+ hours into that alone and regardless of what happens, I always feel a bit of pride when I look at the completed project (Pic 1 and Pic 2 below).
He's my baby, my labour of love.
Pic 3 is there because I love it and I'm proud of it. All of my VP are monuments to the things I love most.
Another creation I'm proud of is his and my other daywalker's lore. I've built an entire world on the base that is Cyberpunk 2077 to fit my daywalkers and wolves into. I've spent a lot of time worldbuilding and hammering out their individual lore. How my daywalkers work, how my wolves work, what their strengths and weaknesses are as a species. I have pages of it written down and maybe one day I'll share it.
And of course, I need to mention how proud I am of the things I've built with others, with my partner @rindemption and my best friend @noirapocalypto. My OCs and theirs are intertwined in ways that mean the world to me. I love these connections deeply and I'm proud of the stories and lore and people that I've built with them. There are a lot of days where the only thing that can make me smile is thinking of them.
These are pictures of Rin's Nathan and Sayne's Salem I've taken as acts of love. I'm very proud of them, too, because they're for people that mean so much to me.
And those are my creations I'm the proudest of. Thank you again for letting me share.
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We need to talk about the worst thing about making AUs....
The fact that then when you inevitably think about crossovers you don't want the crossover with the canon you want it with your specific AU. Your brain worms, your circus, but THEN WHAT?
Oh, yeah, to understand this crossover you need to go read this entirely different fic/series? Girl help 😭 you can't do that
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goofy hermit doodles!! because uhh why not!!
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sleep deprived doodle expressing how much i despise the white palace
even in trying to take a break all i hear are the fucking buzzsaws.
i hear them when i try to sleep.
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Something’s off. Steve notices it as soon as he gets home. It’s nothing major, really, but something’s definitely off. There’s this weird silence in the hallway, instead of the usual metal that Eddie is basically blasting 24/7 whenever Steve isn’t home. There’s the absence of Olly showing his little face around the corner of the door to the kitchen upon hearing Steve coming in. There’s also the absence of some crazy scent explosion emerging from the kitchen like on a usual Tuesday evening.
Steve calls out Eddie’s name, questioning, not sure if he should be worried.
“Here!”
He releases a relieved breath and gets into the living room. Eddie is his usual messy self, wild curls hanging over one end of the couch and feet wrapped in colorful socks over the other, with Olly curled up and purring on his chest.
“Hey there,” Steve says. It isn’t until he comes closer to lean down for a kiss on Eddie’s forehead, that he notices something is most definitely very, very wrong. Eddie’s eyes are swollen and red-rimmed, salty traces covering his cheeks and used tissues scattered all over the floor next to the couch. His hands are clenching into Olly’s fur, his chest is heaving unsteadily.
Eddie looks up at Steve, blinks once, twice, to get the water out of his eyes, a fresh tear rolling down his cheek.
“What happened, love?” Steve covers Eddie’s hands with his own, creating their familiar pile of Olly-Eddie-Steve, his thumb stroking over the back of Eddie’s hand.
Eddie takes a deep, shuddering breath, squeezes his eyes shut for a second. “Wayne’s sick.”
XXX
The thing is, Wayne has always been the strong one. Always. He was the arms that caught Eddie, the hands that wiped away his tears, the lips that kissed his bruises better despite his prickly beard. And now he’s - frail. There’s simply no other word for it. And Eddie doesn’t think he’s ready to be the strong one yet. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. Of course he knows that Wayne isn’t some immortal being, that he’s lived a life of harsh physical labor and cold Indiana winters, of canned beans and breakfast cigarettes since he was only a boy... But this is different. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. And Wayne knows that, too.
“I always thought it was gonna be my lungs that’d do me in,” he tells Eddie.
Eddie never thought of his uncle as an old man. But now, sitting next to his hospital bed, both his hands clasped around Wayne’s, he sees it. He sees the lines on his forehead, the near-white shade of grey of what little hair he has left on his head, the tired look in his eyes, the age spots scattered all over his arms...
Eddie releases one of his hands to wipe over his eyes. He feels another pair of hands squeezing his shoulders from behind him, reminding him that he isn’t alone, that there’s still someone else who can be the strong one when Eddie can’t.
He takes a breath.
“Nothing’s doin’ you in, man,” he manages to choke out, strengthening his grip on Wayne’s hands. Those strong, calloused hands, that have lived through so much. The hands that caught him countless times. The hands that held him tight whenever he needed it. The hands that wiped away his tears. The hands that fixed his van. The hands that ruffled his curls. The hands that held a fishing rod like a pro. The hands that tirelessly drilled holes in walls and assembled furniture when Eddie moved out of the trailer and into the apartment he and Steve got in Indianapolis. The hands that are currently resting limply on top of white hospital sheets. Frail hands.
“Ed...”
“No, I’m serious,” Eddie says. He’s always been good at running. No way in hell he’s gonna stop that habit now. "You're gonna get better. And when you do, we'll take you back home, okay? Not to Hawkins - to your real home. You, me, Steve and the van, right? You’ll see the mountains again. We’re gonna drive all the way across them, get you back to the other side, ya hear me? It’ll be this great adventure, just the three of us. We’ll stay there for as long as we want to. And then we’ll go back to Indy, and you’ll move in with us, and we’ll take care of you. And you’ll be there when we get a real house, you’ll be there when we get our first little nugget, and every next one of them, and you’ll get to play with them and see them grow up and see us goin’ grey and gettin’ old and wrinkled and fat, and you’ll be there when Lord of the Rings gets made into a movie and when world hunger gets solved and when gay marriage becomes legal and when we get our first black president and when The Police reunites... That’s how it’s gonna go, you understand?”
There’s this look in Wayne’s eyes, this look that completely terrifies Eddie, and he can’t do a thing except for collapsing onto his uncle’s chest, breathing in his scent and crying against his shirt as Wayne’s hand tangles itself in Eddie’s curls. And it doesn’t matter - it doesn’t matter that Wayne is weak and sick and lying in a hospital bed. Because he’s still the strong one. He’s still the hands that catch Eddie when Eddie breaks down. Even now.
XXX
They should’ve known that Eddie would be right. Of course they should’ve known. No God can turn down someone as stubborn as Eddie Munson - not even a God Eddie doesn’t believe in.
Wayne missed the mountain air, the perfectly prepared corn fritters, the drool in the voices around him, the natural hospitality. It’s good to be back, to get to share his roots with his boys. But it’s not like coming home. Home is where his own parents moved him some fifty years ago, with dreams of a better future that didn’t quite hold for them. Home is a rickety trailer park that doesn’t have warm water most of the time. Home is the woods around Hawkins, the rolling hills, the chilly autumn wind. But most of all, home is the smile of the boy who took him here. It’s long dark curls and big brown eyes that are currently tearing up because Wayne is standing next to him and getting stronger by the day and very much alive. It’s the memories they share, of Wayne opening his arms to catch Eddie when he was so much smaller than now; of going fishing at Lover’s Lake in the weekends; of cigarette stubs and beer bottles and metal boxes that Wayne chose to not know the contents of; of laughter and crying and fear and comfort and a whole shared lifetime, a boy growing up and still needing to be caught again and again and again.
And Wayne still does it. He still catches his boy. His two boys, now. And he’s planning on keeping to do that for a long, long time.
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Bears in Trees, Starting Fires // Maggie Stiefvater, The Raven Cycle
do you ever listen to a song that fits a character dynamic almost too well?
[ID below the cut]
Image 1: Lyrics from Starting Fires by Bears in Trees reading: I keep lighting fires and I keep punching walls / I keep holding my breath and I keep poking holes
Image 2: A quote from The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater reading: Both of them stopped breathing. Gansey knew he’d gone too far. It was too far, too late, too much. Adam shoved open the door. “Fuck you, Gansey. Fuck you,” he said, voice low and furious. Gansey closed his eyes
Image 3: Lyrics reading: I keep smashing glasses and I keep falling down / I lay in the pieces and I keep rolling around
Image 4: A quote reading: With a sudden twist, he swept all of the figurines from the Queen Anne table. Foxes in breeches and terriers seized in midflight. They all plunged to the floor with a satisfying and diseased smash. He raised his voice. “World’s ending, folks!”
Image 5: Lyrics reading: I'll sleep on my sofa and you can sleep in my bed / I'll never feel whole but you're as close as I'll get
Image 6: A quote reading: Gansey said immediately, “You’re leaving with me.” “It will only make it worse when I come back,” Adam told him. “I mean for good. Move into Monmouth. Enough’s enough.”
Image 7: Lyrics reading: You can be the husband, I can be your wife / We can pretend we can cope with real life
Image 8: A quote reading: Gansey jerked his arm out of Adam’s grasp. Again his eyes darted down the hall and back. “You should look at yourself in the mirror.” Adam didn’t. “We do this, we do it as equals,” Adam said.
Image 9: Lyrics reading: White picket fences and stable jobs / Three little faces and a couple of dogs
Image 10: A quote reading: Out loud, Gansey said, “Fine, then. We’d find another good school. We play the game. We make up a new life for you.” Adam reached past him to find a rag and began to wipe between each greasy finger. “I would have to find jobs, too. This didn’t happen overnight. Do you know how long it took me to find these?”
Image 11: Lyrics reading: You can be the husband, I can be your wife / We can pretend we'll get over our strife
Image 12: A quote reading: Thank God we’re not fighting thank God we’re not fighting thank God we’re not fighting how can I keep it from happening again—
Image 13: Lyrics reading: Having conversations we’ve never had before / You’ll be drinking whisky as I walk out the door
Image 14: This was a conversation they’d had before, and entire days of arguments were replayed in the few moments of quiet. The words had been said often enough that they didn’t need to be said again.
Image 15: Lyrics reading: I walk to the seafront and jump in fully clothed (Ohh) / And I keep wandering aimless, oh shit, I don't even know (Ohh)
Image 16: A quote reading: Gansey couldn’t shake the image of Adam by the side of the interstate, walking, walking, walking. Knowing he was forgetting what he was doing, but unable to stop. Unable to remember Gansey’s number, even when people did stop to help.
Image 17: Lyrics reading: I keep starting fires and I keep poking holes / I keep holding my breath 'cause I am nothing at all
Image 18 : A quote reading: Adam inhaled. Gansey didn’t. He didn’t breathe at all. He just stood, frozen, his hands gripped around his king’s helmet. He told himself to breathe in, and he did. He told himself to breathe out, and he did. He didn’t move, though, and he didn’t speak
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rip gambit you will be missed 😔
Don't even know what to say tbh.
For those that don't know, the big State of the Game article came out detailing incoming changes and adjustments and all the big stuff. Gambit was mentioned! But at what cost. Basically, they are ceasing any kind of support for Gambit. What we have now is what it is. We will get the Dreaming City map back in TFS and they will add Shadow Legion and Lucent Hive as enemy factions in TFS. That's all.
Full text:
As many of you have noticed, we’ve been quiet on Gambit since last year’s overhaul that launched alongside The Witch Queen. In that revamp, the team made significant changes across five categories in Gambit: core activity fundamentals, Primeval tuning, invasions, ammo economy, and rewards. Unfortunately, these updates didn’t move the needle for player engagement. Although we know our Gambit fans mostly care about new or returning maps, this is an area of the game with lower engagement that would take resources away from more popular parts of the game to shore up.
While we don’t have plans to dedicate more resources to significantly transform Gambit, we do have a few updates planned for the year of The Final Shape. These include porting the Cathedral of Scars map and its beautiful Dreaming City setting into the latest version of Destiny 2, as well as adding the Shadow Legion and Lucent Hive enemy types.
I don't know how to tell you this Bungie, but the reason "engagement is low" in Gambit is because Gambit sucks. Ever since half of it was removed with DCV, it just sucked. It has no variety, the gameplay is largely busted, it's not sufficiently updated, ammo changes suck, invasion cycle sucks (why is the enemy even getting a portal when their Primeval is at 5% health and the other team is still in mote collecting phase is beyond me), there are no cool armour sets to chase (just look at Iron Banner and Trials stuff, imagine dedicated cosmetics) and finally there are simply no weapons that are worth anything. Both Vanguard and Crucible have more weapons and also adept versions. There is zero reason to go into Gambit without major changes to Gambit. And now with the further changes to how playlists and challenges will work, there will be even less reason to go into Gambit. Observe:
Before then, we’re making Gambit entirely optional to maximize your rewards unless you’re looking for a piece of gear that’s specific to the mode. Gambit will continue to serve as a source of Exotic engrams via weekly challenges, though as we mentioned above, you’ll be able to complete all your weekly challenges in any ritual you’d like starting in Season 22. If you want to stick to Vanguard or Crucible challenges without touching Gambit, now you can.
We’re also reducing the number of Gambit-specific Seasonal Challenges starting in Season 22, so players won’t need to bank motes to be able to earn that big purse of Bright Dust for completing nearly every challenge in the Season. Finally, we’re adding Fireteam Matchmaking to Gambit next Season, which will replace the Freelance node and should result in faster, better matchmaking by combining both Gambit playlists. We’ll keep an eye on reception and player engagement after these additions take place, and we hope you’ll visit ‘ol Drifter next Season to get your hands on his new Void Machine Gun.
Ngl, but I don't think anyone besides like a total of 6 people will play Gambit next season. The incentive to go in there is completely removed. You won't even have to go in there for pinnacles or for challenges. The Void Machine Gun will not be enough of an incentive because the chance of that gun being better than two recently available craftable Void Machine Guns (Commemoration and Retrofit Escapade) is very low. And besides, once you get it at the end of your first match, you can leave Gambit forever.
This is the feedback loop that just reinforces the idea that people don't like Gambit. And I mean. Who would at this point. I'm pretty sure that if Crucible had stayed the same as it was at the start of Beyond Light, engagement would be low there too. But you know. Crucible has received major updates pretty much every season since with multiple new modes, several Trials overhauls, Iron Banner overhaul, competitive overhaul, new armours and weapons added and YES, even new maps. God forbid even 5% of these resources went into Gambit.
Anyway, this is the whole section about Gambit in 6500 words. It's basically a "you guys aren't playing this so we're doing the bare minimum of keeping it in the game as is, no new work will be done on it ever." Thanks I guess.
And for the record, something I also added while having a rant in my discord, I want to make it clear that I don't want anyone to spiral into a Bungie hate train. Even for this. I understand perfectly well what's the community attitude towards Gambit and what it's been for years now. People just don't like it and they're not incentivised to like it and they're actively encouraged to hate it. Spending resources into a game mode on the hope that maybe you can change people's minds would be insanity. Like, the amount of change Gambit would need to MAYBE start appealing to gamers would be beyond any reasonable time and resources Bungie can put in. And if you could guarantee that people would love and play Gambit then, fine. But you can't. Most likely, even if major changes happened, people would still just do their weekly stuff and bail. It's simply not worth it. In order for people to like it, it needs to be completely and thoroughly overhauled in a way that would need more time and effort than the entire Light subclass overhaul and it's just not a reasonable expectation, nor is it guaranteed to work. So I get it.
I'm still disappointed and annoyed about it because I believe it wasn't given a fair chance at all. I also know how good it can be and how Gambit Prime could've been improved upon over the years if they tried. Instead, it got removed and that was honestly the death sentence for Gambit. It's unfortunate. It's my favourite game mode that could've been so much better was it given even a fraction of attention of Crucible.
I'll still be playing it. You will find me in the Gambit queue waiting for 2 hours to find 7 other lunatics to play with, don't worry about it. But I'm absolutely incredibly sad about them being basically forced to axe the potential of the whole game mode that is incredibly creative and fits with the type of game Destiny is perfectly.
There's other interesting stuff in the article and some upcoming really cool improvements and changes to the game. But if you're a fan of Gambit in any capacity, this is a death certificate for the mode. I suggest coming to terms with it quickly because Bungie changing their minds about this is highly unlikely.
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Writers tag game
Prompt: share some writing
Thanks for the tag, @miyamiwu!
So, I'll be honest, I don't actually have any WIPs I'm intending to do anything with, but I have some oldish abandoned stuff I managed to relocate. It's back from 2021 so in my Untamed era and this bit was specifically set during Fatal Journey*:
Nie Huaisang woke blearily, cold seeping into his clothes from the floor. It was dark and it took several seconds to remember where he was. He could hear the muffled sounds of clanging and voices. As he lifted his head off the ground, they slowly resolved themselves into the clash of swords and yelling.
[...]
He didn't know what to do. What would his brother do? Xichen-ge? San-ge? He had his flute with him– he could try Cleansing. This was what it was for, right?
Before he could doubt himself further, he started playing, pouring all the qi he could muster into the tune. He'd practised for hours the night before, long after San-ge had left, but despite that, he hadn't truly thought then that he'd need to play so soon. Was that so naïve of him?
As he watched, Da-ge began to slow in his movements and Nie Huaisang felt himself start to relax. He kept his lips to the flute, trying not to let his relief fool him into making mistakes. Still, he knew he only had to play a little longer and then they could all escape. Him, his brother, his cousin. They could flee far away from the darkness that haunted these halls.
And then Nie Zonghui's head hit the floor.
He stopped playing.
And then I had this other bit:
He'd messed up.
He must have played a wrong note. Maybe he'd misremembered the entire thing? And now Nie Zonghui was dead and his brother - what looked like his brother - was stood, Baxia dripping blood to the floor.
[...]
The sword was pointed at him.
He tried to hold himself steady as he looked down the blade. Tried to blink away the tears that kept escaping without his permission. He could tell he was failing, unable to stop the trembling, but he forced himself to meet the eyes at the other end of the sword.
He couldn't die here. He refused to die here.
After all, he was the only family his brother had left.
*(it was meant to be part of a short time travel fic where post-canon characters went back not long before NMJ died. It would've had flashbacks to Fatal Journey interspersed with the "present" up until the point at which future NHS tipped off past NHS about the poisoned music. I actually got as far as figuring out where I wanted all the characters to be at the end of it, but I ran out of motivation pretty quickly so there's only this WIP stuff and the intro part written in the end.)
Ahh not sure who to tag when it comes to writing stuff. I know @roseofcards90 and @floofiestboy write some stuff? And anyone else who sees this who writes, feel free to consider yourself tagged ^^
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This. This. This entire conversation with Morrigan actually makes me want to sob. She and my Tabris always becomes close friends over the course of DAO; that, paired with the fact that my Tabris always romances Alistair, makes everything about this hurt so much more when you take DAO's ending into account.
Her confusion over why my Tabris didn't send her away. Why she didn't abandon her after they learned of Flemeth's plans. Why Tabris went out of her way to slay Flemeth and bring her the true grimoire. She asks Tabris why, and is baffled when the answer is, "I did it because I'm your friend," as if it's that simple.
The way Morrigan looks at the warden, the way her voice cracks when she says, "I want you to know that while I may not always prove... worthy... of your friendship, I will always value it."
She knows how this will end; Flemeth sent her with the wardens with the end goal of stopping the blight and obtaining the old god soul through the dark ritual. Morrigan knows that Alistair and Tabris are the only Grey Wardens here, and assuming they don't find more, one of them will have to die defeating the archdemon unless they agree to do the dark ritual.
With that context, her asking Alistair, "And what if a Grey Warden has forced to choose between the Warden he loved and ending the Blight? What should his choice be?" suddenly has so much subtext weaved through the words that I'm gonna start foaming at the mouth. She's practically telling Alistair that a warden has to die. She's scrutinizing his reaction to find any hint that suggests he would agree to the dark ritual in order to save himself and the woman he loves. And when he doesn't choose, she has her answer.
Morrigan made comments to Tabris about him, almost hopeful that their relationship was just a physical thing between them and not actually riddled with feelings... and then gives disapproval when Tabris says she loves him.
She doesn't want the warden to die; hell, she doesn't want Alistair to die, either; whether because she does actually care about him or because she knows it'll break her friend's heart if she loses him, or both!
Things would be so much easier if the only two Grey Wardens left to defeat the blight didn't fall in love, wouldn't they, Morrigan?
She knows that in the end, no matter the outcome, she will lose the woman she called sister and it's devastating.
Morrigan, who has never known true friendship. Who grew up isolated in the woods with an abusive mother and terrible implications for her future. Who discovered said mother planned to take over her body just as she did with her other daughters. Who doesn't understand kindness as it was rarely given to her without a catch. Who isolates herself from the others in camp. Who finally has a companion she cares about... and in the end, if her plan works and the dark ritual is completed, she'll end up pregnant and alone and wearing Tabris' resentment like a tender wound on her heart.
Or Tabris will reject the ritual, and will die to the archdemon.
Or her lover will.
I just- the dynamic between the warden, romanced Alistair, and Morrigan is so good and painful and rich that I'm gnawing on furniture as we speak.
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if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.
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so i'm in a zone of temporarily unmedicated for adhd and the only thing i can reliably focus on are the sorts of Sudden, Unavoidable Problems that aren't really sustainable for motivation (unless i'm alright with my heart popping)
turns out Cazador Fight Music elicits such a sense memory of stress it's basically adderall to me. i've sent so many emails in the last hour. i'm so powerful.... unmatched in my emailing prowess.... one might even say ascendant--
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🐺🫧
Here
Now go to sleep
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as for the way (we already know)
8k words | One Piece | Sanji Week Day 6: Future
Robin props her chin in her hands and looks at him, eyes flickering across his smooth, unlined face, his perfectly blond hair now grown just past his shoulders and parted the other way. “You know, I said once that you would have a fascinating death someday.”
Sanji can’t hold back his snort. “Guess you were wrong about that.”
He looks away and chooses to stare off into the distance instead. Inhales, exhales. Inhales, exhales. Again and again and again. He isn’t expecting a response, so he’s surprised when Robin breaks the stillness settled around them.
“No,” Robin says thoughtfully. “I don’t think I am.”
Sanji, and everything that comes after.
(AO3)
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