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@roseburied
Buried in grief, drowning in flowers — roseburied ( formerly intcashes, follows from thekillercoffeeaddict ). Independent, low-medium activity, semi-selective multi-muse featuring original and canon characters. Written by Beth ( 26 - she/her ).
Carrd.
Warning. Everything is under construction.
Warning. This blog features heavy topics including death, violence, past se.xual assa.ult, ab.use, and ptsd. Tags will be used accordingly.
we are witches. we should be able to help people.
indie multimuse feat. olr.uggio & ago.tt from witch hat ate.lier. mun is up to date with the manga. // promo credit non rp blogs do not interact
sorry y'all, it's been a very long and emotional weekend for me, so i didn't make much progress on drafts. i've been more active on discord tho and catching up on those, if you want to hang out there!
i'm gonna be at my parents' house for a bit at the end of the month, so i'm hoping i'll have more time then to do some writing
headcanon generator — put ✔ if it fits and ✘ if it doesn't.
Jack has a diary that they write in with a glittery gel pen. ✘
Jack nearly drowned in a river as a child. ✔
Jack cries while watching disney movies. ✔ ( strongly depends on the movie )
Jack will go feral. Watch out. ✔
Jack will remind others in the midst of chaos how good they're being. ✔
Jack listens to 80s music. ✔
Jack is a theatre kid. ✘
Jack can play the guitar. ✘
Jack has punched a hole in their wall. ✘
Jack does not know what sleep is. ✔✔
Stole this from: @outlawiism Tagging: Anyone who'd like to do this!
USEFUL SITES FOR ROLEPLAYERS
Thought I'd make a list of some useful websites for those of us who enjoy roleplaying and what have you here on Tumblr and whatnot.
roleplay formatter: Made by the awesome @rpclefairy. I honestly can't recommend this one enough. Great for adding color, changing the font size, and the whole shebang with bold + italics + underline + strikethrough. 10/10 always use
fsymbols + emojipedia: These are both great for making your tags fancy and whatnot.
alt codes: This is genuinely great for teaching you how to make the symbols with your keyboard for everyday use so there's that. It's especially useful if you and/or your muses speak a second language so that's a bonus.
text color fader: *marge vc* I just think gradient effects on text is neat. *end marge vc*
list of colors (wikipedia): Has a list of an infinite number of colors and their hex codes. Very useful if I do say so, myself. But that's just me.
screencapped.net: Great for getting all sorts of screenshots for making icons, GFXs, promos, and whatnot.
fancaps.net: Also great for getting all sort of screencaps for making icons, GFXs, promos, and whatnot. My only complaint is that it's a little annoying to navigate so here's the proper links to movies, tv shows, and anime.
photopea: Great if you can't afford Photoshop and/or don't like using GIMP.
hakuneko: It's not so much a website as much as it is a program. You can download manga, comics, webtoons, doujinshi, etc. for making your icons, GFXs, promos, and whatnot. It's also just a great way to read stuff and catch up on everything.
Feel free to reblog and add more. <333
I'm gonna try and write this weekend but I probably won't be on the dash much, love y'all
Protecting her family is always a priority for Jack, but she also can't help putting them in danger. She knows stealing from the rich and powerful threatens them, even with her alias, and yet she actively chooses not to stop. As much as she loves them, she loves her purpose more. And truthfully, she doesn't always stop to examine the consequences that come with getting caught.
In contrast, she would choose her family over a partner or lover. They are close-knit, and while she might be physically distant, she refuses to be emotionally separated from them. That's not to say she'd abandon her partner if her family doesn't approve, she won't, but when given the choice between her partner and her family... she will choose her family without hesitation.
Trying to convince myself to post my headcanons, even if they're messy and that you all won't mind and will love me anyway
The air is alive with unreleased electricity. It snaps like tension, thick as the clouds above, a gathering storm. This is a temper to be feared and the rest of the camp seems to agree. Strongly. Jez and Tav are the only two to emerge from their respective tents, as @stormbrained's voice thunders worse than a vicious mockery rebuke.
"they took my fucking owlbear," he's going to erupt. he really is. clouds are gathering at unprecedented speeds, the air begins to feel — viscous, hot. a rolling cloud above rumbles in warning. "they took! my fucking owlbear!"
Jez casts a single irritated glance at the nearly bursting clouds and draws her hood. " Who the fuck would take that mongrel? Hells, we don't even want him. " A performative lie, complete with an eyeroll, it is no secret that she indulges the creature with midday hunts and late night snacks.
Tav, always kind and patient and a fucking do-gooder, elbows her hard in the side and turns to their companion with concern. What happened? Who took him? They ask, hands already raised like a white flag. It will be okay, I promise, we'll get him back.
" It's always another fucking side quest with you people, " Jezabel grumbles in reply and throws her pack over her shoulder. She rounds back on Teddy, punctuating each sentence with an all too casual spin of her dagger. " You're such a mother dragon. We'll be lucky if your precious pet hasn't mauled the lot of those fucking idiots by the time we arrive. Waste your energy fussing over the godsdamned mess we'll have to clean up instead. "
psa: if you ever send me a meme & i don’t answer it, it’s never because i’ve seen it & gone “oh, it’s them”. if i can’t think of a response to a meme right away, i usually keep it in my inbox, or save it to my drafts, & then wait until i get an idea to answer it. or sometimes if i just can’t think of anything at all, or a few people sent in the same one ( sentence memes ) and i can’t think of enough ways to make each unique, then i’ll just end up deleting it. but that never means i don’t want to roleplay with you, or that you can never send another meme in, or ask to thread. just so you buttercups know !!
✦ THANK THE HELLS AND EVERY SINGLE demon therein for the face of a corpse he doesn't recognise. this is small praise, considering he remembers nothing of his life beyond the sum of a year ago — but it's better than nothing! this is no-one of consequence to recent history, which keeps their party's travels uncomplicated to some extent. some. it still is . . . a corpse.
once his irritation has — not cooled, solidified! — tempered itself somewhat, teddy fixes jez with a glare full of harsh judgement, and a slight hint of approbation. his hidden voice croons, oh, but it is beautiful, and he is forced to avert his eyes from the gore. no, no! gaze! devour! by our hand or not, it feeds us! this is how we bid our bosom friends to commend their flock to the slaughter!
if he cannot look at the body without inspiring the horror from within, then he must fixate on something else. a tremor in his periphery draws attention. her hands.
“compose yourself,” he says, sharply, “and then we will bury your corpse.”
owlbear might not have understood the words — it is an unsophisticated baby, a neophyte to any skullduggery that doesn't feed its ravenous appetite — but it understands teddy's guarding stance, and it howls its objection. hoots? howls, hoots — it sounds off like an angry toddler and trumpet combined, and teddy turns to hiss, stop that now, or it'll be bath time immediately. this seems to work part way.
to jez, he directs a terse: “you should probably bathe all that off. i assume you don't want the others to know,” which prompts a further, “but why? did this creature attack you?”
i didn't fucking ask for any of this. i didn't even mean to. her words after all this.
“did it threaten you?”
" Fuck. You. " Her words are always sharpened to a point, but there's venom in them now, seeds of hate. She shoves her daggers into their sheathes, crosses her arms over her chest to hide the tremble. No, there will be no sympathy here, she's delusional to have considered it and fucking stupid for having been weak enough to want it. " I'm plenty fucking composed. "
She isn't. She's coming undone around the edges from the simple act of being known. Recognized. Is that not threat enough? Shouldn't Teddy, with all his similarities, fucking understand? That out here in this gods-fucking-forsaken wilderness, right below their bloody tadpoles, is fear of the familiar waltzing into their ragtag party with their damned issues. What a curse it would be to have her past proclaimed, even if her sins remain buried alongside her family.
The owlbear's sudden sound is nearly enough to make her startle, and it is only through sheer force of will that Jez is able to turn it into a glare, one hard enough to turn Astarion to ash. Teddy, of course, remains un-withered. With no death ray to be had, she settles for regaining use of her voice, shaping each word like a blow.
" It doesn't matter if the others find out. He was a fucking True Soul. " She brandishes the worm, swirling in a leftover healing potion bottle that they've all begun to carry. " He was just like others, going on and on about being saved by their Absolute and he did that mind bullshit with the tadpoles to show me their god or some memory. " Her voice cracks on memory, a growing fracture in her composure, quickly thrown under the rest of her explanation as if this too is something she can run from. " I fucking snapped alright? I snapped and I killed him and that's that. So if you have a lecture saved up about how useful he would have been alive, shove it. "
The problem is that Aiden gave her his word. They had a deal. Shook on it and everything. She didn’t even ask for a binding spell that could’ve helped, now that he thought about it. He'd offered one, made it clear she could have something formal, written, spelt, whatever she needed. She just looked him in the eye and said she trusted him as a man of his word.
He had been proud of that, then. Now, with her blood on his kitchen tiles and her fingers digging into his hand, it feels less like something to be proud of and more like a loaded weapon he handed her himself.
He could have prevented something like this from happening. He could have pushed harder for protections, insisted on wards, backup, anything. But she chose to blindly trust him, and he was okay with that. Relieved, even. Now he realises he shouldn’t have been.
“I miscalculated, and now you’re hurt. Let’s not get distracted by whose fault it was. Not when I’m responsible for you being there in the first place.” The words taste like metal in his mouth, bitter and useless. Is this a sign I should back out of this deal altogether? Walk away before I get her killed? The doubts keep circling like vultures, but now is not the time to feed them. Not when she’s bleeding out right in front of him and squeezing his hand like it’s the only thing tethering her to consciousness.
The package thudded to the floor when she shoved it at him, and he barely spared it a glance. He acknowledged it because she said so, because this was what they had agreed on. And yes, it’s important. Important enough that people were willing to pull a trigger over it. That alone should have told him everything. Aiden had told her this would be low risk. And he’d been so wrong.
I’m so sorry.
Now, with her blood soaking through the makeshift bandage and the weight of the bag sitting forgotten by his feet, it seems mundane—pathetic, even—compared to what he could have lost. What he could still lose if he was not careful.
Just like any other case on a busy shift, he had to put his patient first. That’s what he told himself, anyway, clinging to the familiar script. Jack is his patient now, and it’s… jarring, realising how she’s so much more than that. A partner. A risk he asked to take. A person who chose to trust him.
But right now, he didn’t need to be the man who made the deal or the idiot who thought this would be simple. He needed to be the one who doesn’t flinch. This situation required his surgical precision, not his emotional attachment.
“It’s going to hurt,” He warned her quietly, adjusting his grip on the forceps, feeling her nails bite into his skin. “But it’ll be over soon.” There’s no point in sugarcoating it, and Jack wouldn’t appreciate him honeying it up when she could bleed to death at any moment. The least he could give her now is the truth he promised her from the start—and hope, for both their sakes, that this time it’s enough.
“This will not happen again.” He mumbled, more to himself. “This should not happen again.”
You didn't miscalculate. I'm fine. It's nothing. You're not responsible. I'm an idiot, that's all. It's not you. I chose this. I would choose it again. Everything is fine. Don't look at me like that. I'd choose you. You'd never have to ask.
The thoughts rattle through her head, a myriad of confessions and promises that make Jack grateful for the towel between her teeth so they don't spill out. They are the kind of words that breed trouble and complications. The kind that Queenie had made them swear off. And though her crew is long gone, Jack finds that she is still listening to their rules.
They've become her own.
Even so, it feels wrong to leave his statement unacknowledged and she shakes her head hard, her eyes burning with the weight of everything she can't say. The movement brings a new wave of pain and Jack wishes she could be strong enough to ignore it as the edges of her vision stain black. Her grip tightens and her tears soak into the towel.
He promises that it will get worse.
There's nothing to do but give one clipped nod and with great reluctance, let him go. He needs both of his hands and she needs to be brave. Her fingers curl around the edge of the table, scratching against the material. Her chest heaves and she fixates on a lock of his hair, tracing its path with her eyes.
And then the metal digs into the wound and Jack bites down hard to keep from screaming. A choked sound escapes, muffled, but clear. The tears fall hot and fast and it takes every ounce of willpower she possesses to not shove him off. The world blurs and she grips the table harder, knuckles white.
The forceps burn under her skin, prying her open and scraping at blood and sinew as they root deeper. The sounds coming from her throat are indescribable. Her body trembles against her will and the desperation rolls over her in waves that match the pain. The desire to beg him to stop, to find a place to put the burden of fear, to take refuge in a warm embrace are all enticing and overwhelming but she persists and. And the forceps clamp around the bullet and then it's out.
Jack yanks the towel out of her mouth and retches, emptying her bare stomach across her own lap and his shoes. The room spins in a kaleidoscope, probably from the blood loss, but maybe from the pain. What does she know, she's not a doctor, just a nobody. A foolish girl in over her head.
" Fuck... " She coughs, feels her stomach lurch once, twice, then settle. The lights are so damn bright and the words barely make it past her lips. " I'm sorry. Shit. God, sorry. "
She knows there's more still to come, but in the brief respite, the thief manages a few steadying breaths. It's just enough to begin to cut through the haze and somehow, Jack finds the strength for half-coherent thoughts and then speech as she meets his eyes. " Don't blame yourself... that hurts worse than the bullet. " Her hand has found a way to his chest, but she has no memory of moving. The room continues to sway, but Aiden is grounding, a harbor in the storm, the only part of her world in focus. " I'm okay now, I have you... to save me. " His touch burns with the same intensity as her injured shoulder. " We're gonna screw up sometimes and that's okay. That's why we're partners. "
I was going to try to do some drafts and instead I'm drafting more cover letters to try and escape my inescapable employer x.x
✦ ____ GET TO KNOW: beth!
nickname(s): beth zodiac: taurus/aries cusp last movie i saw: wuthering heights ( it was an ironic watch i s2g ) last thing i googled: overwatch characters because i'm getting back into my hero shooters and marvel rivals was pmo favorite musician: charlotte sands, taylor swift, sabrina carpenter, daisy grenade, black honey other blogs: brekkingin is my personal, all my old rp blogs are archived but they were killercoffeeaddict, fire-and-forst, wildjustice, and kniiivesdrawn do i get asks: sometimes! i do love having a stuffed inbox, so i always welcome more! following: if this is about my followers? small????? most people that follow this blog are not active, i think there are like 7 people here and they are all my friends amount of sleep: i'm trying to get better, but i def average like 4-6 lucky number: 13 is the closest i have? what i’m wearing: my spicy nighttime yoga shorts and crop top cause it is boiling here and they are very comfy dream job: i honestly don't know anymore, i think I'd like to do event planning or help young professionals in their careers? dream trip: london favorite food: food made by my loved ones tbh, my mom's sausage soup, my fiancé's chorizo dogs with a chimichurri, filipino food from my lola play any instruments: lmao no, none languages: english and a dash of tagalog, but truly just a dash favorite songs: rn i think it's sunday by charlotte sands random fact: i once played dragon age 2 every single day for an entire summer and could 100% the game in like sub 20 hours. i still know where to find fenris's most liked gifts without looking it up describe yourself as aesthetic things: bright posters on the walls, iced coffees, loud and hysterical laughter, ocean blues and silvers, worn stuffed animals, books strewn across a desk, pressed flowers in a newspaper, ink smudged in a notebook
tagged by: @stormbrained tagging: @outlawiism, @starpotentia1, @vindictisangelus, @altruprism, @maimeelai and anyone else who'd like to do this!
TIME FOR SOME POSITIVITY! * send a symbol and i'll recommend my favorite rp blogs!
send 🌵 and i'll recommend a canon rp blog
send 🍀 and i'll recommend an oc rp blog
send ✨ and i'll recommend a multimuse blog
send 🌼 and i'll recommend a blog with beautiful writing
send 🍄 and i'll recommend a blog with incredible graphics
send 🌲 and i'll recommend a blog with thought-provoking headcanons
send 🌹 and i'll recommend a blog that makes me happy
send 🌴 and i'll recommend a blog i haven't spoken to yet but admire from afar
send 🌺 and i'll recommend a blog i've followed forever
send 🐚 + [A FANDOM] and i'll recommend a blog in that fandom
send 🍁 and i'll recommend my favorite blog duo
send 🌱 and i'll recommend a blog that's always positive
send 🌿 and i'll recommend a new blog
send 🌳 and i'll recommend a resource blog (memes, rp help, etc)
send 🌷 and i'll recommend an rp graphics maker
send 🌙 and i'll recommend a blog for my favorite character
send 🪵 and i'll say a positive thing about my own blog
✦ THE OWLBEAR CUB COULD REST ITS PAWS on his shoulders now, if it stood on its hind legs, and this fact distressed teddy horrifically; when it wanted something, it no longer had to sit obedient at his feet and chirp — it could stand, almost eye level with him, and snatch it away. suspiciously, it had left him alone all day. no begging for scraps, no biting at his legs in impatience — nothing. teddy's paranoia kept him company during even his sanest hours, but there was a special sort of growing and gnawing horror at breaks in regularity like these: he hated to misplace anything under his care. out of sight — out of safety.
he called for it with a low whistle, and got only silence in return. he tried again, and again, until the quiet became absurd; he began to stalk its tracks in a bid to find it, when finally, his eyes alighted on — enormous golden eyes, and a blood-soaked beak. it had a guilty look about it, like a chastised child brought home after running away, and it had left a few smears of blood and tissue in the dirt behind it.
“you were — hunting? who took you hunting?” shadowheart and wyll had left camp hours ago, and they were the only ones who willingly entertained the beast; no, it had killed something, and something large enough to coat the damn thing in gore.
the owlbear gave him no sign of understanding so he bid it to lead him to the carcass it had been ransacking, praying to whatever god might deign to hear his profanities that he had hunted an animal and not a wandering child, when @roseburied stepped quickly into view.
“i killed him but, now there’s a mess.”
teddy's brows rose for his hairline, his whole forehead felt taut from the sheer force of just looking at jez, as if she'd announced her plans to wed the netherbrain, and then towards the owlbear cub, now licking its paws in a bid to get the most of its — jez's? — kill.
“what,” he felt like a harried father; he wished lae'zel would return and oversee this nonsense instead, “you did what? is that what this horrible little beastie has been eating? for FUCK s — ”
A corpse should not make her fucking hands shake. She's seen worse, hells, she and the party have committed worse. Just yesterday, Gale had practically roasted a man alive with fireball and despite the smell that had lingered in her nose for hours after, she'd still managed to eat that night's bounty of roasted pork. Not counting Lae'zel's tendency towards decapitation. And this is a single stab to the heart for fuck's sake.
Her hands still shake.
She's actually fucking grateful when the owlbear comes along, a frequent follower and nuisance on her hunting trips, and begins to make a meal of it. Him.
Even so, the creature does not start at the face, with those dead eyes boring into her, lips still forming her father's name. No, it starts with the chest, making a mess of entrails, and Jez finds she can't manage to sheathe her knives.
Time drags on and the encounter keeps replaying in her mind. Her hunt for dinner revealing some fellow traveler. A wayward True Soul. Her father's business associate. One who called her by name and remembered her mother's dress over dinner, her father's laugh. And when he'd promised power, reached out to her tadpole with his own, and invoked the Absolute, she'd acted. It'd only take a single, brutal blow.
She forces a careful exhale, the world finally coming back into focus. The owlbear is gone and there are expletives heading in her direction. Her knives are still coated with blood in a white-knuckled grip as she steps out, prepared to do who even fucking knows what, when she comes face to face with a very cross Teddy.
And un-fucking-surprisingly, he is not satisfied with her half-assed explanation.
" Oh, don't fucking stand there and lecture me, you take the damned thing hunting plenty. " The aggression is enough to mask any weakness in her voice, but not in her body. Her hands haven't stopped shaking. She can only pray to Balduran's ballsack that he won't notice. " And look at the little fucking monster, how in the hells do you expect me to stop it? I didn't ask for this shit, alright? I didn't fucking ask for any of this, I didn't even mean to... Anyway, he's already dead and your pet already had a damned snack. Now will you help me get rid of the body or should I pack this up as owlbear leftovers? "
having an oc you're obsessed with feels good as fuck
