bitter guard

I think what I love most about Laurent and Damen together is that they don’t lose themselves, they become more like themselves instead. They become more like the people they were supposed to be. just because they’ve finally found the person who loves and accepts and sees them for exactly who they are. 

I’m…not putting this in the tag or anything, but I’ve started in on a new dh2 run and I’ve had a shot of whiskey and I just have to say

High chaos Corvo hurts me

  • Titus: *enters Lexas Bedroom*
  • Lexa: *jumps up* Titus!
  • Clarke: *quickly puts away drawings of Lexa*
  • Titus: Heda,I am sorry to disturbe you an-
  • Lexa: As you should be, Titus, bursting in like this.
  • Lexa: It's unacceptable. You completely ruined the mood.
  • Lexa: Do you know how long it took to light all these candles?
  • Titus: Forgive me, Hed- ... wait, are you crying?
the lieutenants accidentally calling their co "dad"

bitters does it accidentally grif compliments his “maverick” style or smth and bitters says “thanks dad” totally unironically. grif is caught off guard and bitters wants to die. then matthews joins in bc he wants to call grif dad too. grif pretends he’s against it but he probably wouldnt mind.

jensen and simmons are working on some nerd gadget idk and simmons is teaching her all these neat things and she’s like “you’re the best, dad!” and simmons is freaking out he doesnt know how to be a dad. he doesn’t want to be like his dad, but jensen would probably reassure him he’s doing just fine.

smith asks caboose if he can call him dad and caboose is totally fine with it. he pats smith on the head and tells him he’s doing a great job, “son” and passes down all this confusing information caboose’s own dad told him like “why keep the cow when you can have the milk for free” and smith looks so deep into it, his dad gives the best advice

The Underdark Isn't Fun

So to set the scene, our campaign started with us busting out of a Drow slave prison - 15 of us together - with the help of the bitter guard captain who’d been replaced as the priestess’ right hand man. Within minutes, we’d jumped off a bridge into a little river where slimes waited to eat at my legs, then split up by an injured roc that ripped one member in twain. Great start, all things considered.

A couple of sessions later, and we finally make it to a Kua-toan village thanks to a not-so-reliable drow guide. We’re promptly attacked by rebels, then meet the religious leader of… Blibdoolpoolp ‘the Sea Mother’, who decides to use us as bait against another religious faction who were worshiping 'the Sea Father.’ Well, we destroyed the opposing faction pretty easily, but then the sea father came. Turns out he wasn’t someone we wanted to see, because our wizard clawed at his eyes, and I passed out for 10 hours, waking up with a very aggressive personality flaw.

About 5 days of getting the hell outta there via boat, and we reach a misty lake with a lone boat. In the boat is a lady. She asks for a few of our smaller people, but thinking I can negotiate in under a minute, I cast Friends and decline. We almost make our escape, but the spell fades as we start sailing. She was angry, but we fought her off.
We take her now empty boat, and find a place to rest. I unlock and open her (trapped) chest, spraying acid onto the whole group, which melts our poor myconid, stool. We’re now carrying his remains to his village. Though I did get an enchanted drow sword, the bard got a lute, and the wizard got a spell stone. Can’t say our DM is all that bad.

That very night, our very own svirfneblin twins are asleep. One of them is acting a bit out of it, so I check it out and he snaps at me. I ask the brother to deal with it, but I was bitten.

A couple of days later, and ambush. One of our boats is landlocked. One person gets out to push it back into the water. I decide to get out of my boat and help. Bad idea. The Green Hag (see. Mysterious misty lake and lady in a boat) attacks me from invisibility. Eventually, while she’s shapeshifted to look like me and coloured nicely with faerie fire, we subdue her and she bargains an artifact for her freedom. True to her word at least, she leads us to a faerzress cavern with a portal to a magical mansion. We get attacked by shadow demons, but at least the monk gets a clingy, talking sunblade that gives our many drow disadvantage thanks to sunlight sensitivity. Can’t say our DM is all good.

Finally, we’re a day or two away from our current destination, and during foraging the svirfneblin twins talk to me. They don’t exactly trust me to keep their secret, and tell me that either they kill me, or they turn me (or take my awesome drow shortsword instead). Yeah, turns out they were Were-Rats. Now I’m a were-rat too. And I have another personality flaw (a sort of evil one).

WH - if you don’t love him

It crushes me that choosing one route means that all the other ones remain alone.  

If you don’t love him….

Elias remains full of self-doubt and insecurity, believing that no one will ever like him just the way he is

Luca continues to be guarded, bitter and cynical, unable to verify the truth of his origin. With no family, he is completely alone

Yukiya never overcomes his self-loathing. He’s still stricken by pain whenever he uses magic, and still suffers alone, every full moon, for the rest of his life.  He never goes back to his family, despite missing them every day

Klaus excels on paper but without a sense of purpose. Never dropping his guard, he doesn’t let others get close to him, and is deeply lonely

Randy still wanders the world in solitude, haunted by guilt for an accident six years old, without the hope of any redemption

Wish you could save more than one at a time….

Sometimes, I look back on who I was as a teenager, the latter years of high school and just at the start of college. Read the old journals and cringed. I hated myself so much then, for the secrets I carried and the falseness of everything I was, how what friends I had were held at such a distance that I knew them far more then they knew me. I’m still dodgy and secretive, internally focused and omit most of my true feelings, and even so I’m less brittle and awful and more me. It’s terrible to think that there are those that miss the shade version of who I am now, who lied more than spoke truth and was jagged inside from fear and paranoia. And now, I’m bitter and guarded and most certainly not good, not ever good, but I can express myself outwardly and smile at backlash I either deserve or don’t. But what’s so strange is even if I’m still not even close to good or nice I hate myself less and allow myself happiness despite the broken-glass-sharp fragments of my past that cost my sleep many nights. And I tell partial truths, more real truths (even if they are self mocking) more often and with less fear. I do not miss the person I was; the coward, the copycat who didn’t have a speech pattern or hand gesture or interest of her own, the little liar hiding the largest part of her life from everyone. I do not apologize for me anymore, for taking up space, for speaking about my apparently trivial interests, or for the sarcastic bite I haven’t cared to give up. If anyone knew the old me and miss it over who I am today, then I’m sorry you miss a falsehood. For if anyone else cares to attack me or share their woes, I really cannot care now.