#Why is that title so long what

[littlebittyhollowbugs]

About my fic !!

Chapter seven is turning out to be a bit longer than I had originally planned,

But it will definitely be finished before the end of the month!

(Also originally it was supposed to be only eight chapters altogether. It will be at least nine, might go ahead and make it an even ten.

Still we're getting close to the finish!)

[reineyday]

why do they keep making bucky a government-manipulated pawn 😭 from the american military to hydra to whatever weirdass public relations campaign valentina is pushing the thunderbolts through (see: end credit graphics & the cereal campaign), like he had his brief time on the run and his goats in wakanda but he's sucked back into a sketchy institution once again like what are they doing with him. sure the movie was fun, but every time i think about it i just end up head in hands.

[toxintouch]

hii!! I just read cold spots and it was AMAZING!!! Im not sure if you wanted to continue the fic, but if you don’t mind could you continue with Veres part? I don’t know what you would write about but I just feel like that fic has so much potential to be a little 3 part series or something 🙏

<- Cold Spots TYSM ANON!! I put the Vere End at the beginning for ease of reading. For the sake of folks who would like to read this as a stand-alone... I think u can? With the knowledge that the premise of Cold Spots is that Mhin and MC/Sparrow went ghost hunting. Vere is said to have been responsible for a handful of local ghost stories, so…of course he makes some mischief.🦊 Also MC needs some Winter wear, stat.  A very light Possessive Vere warning in this btw, though perhaps in a roundabout way.  Plausible deniability is so important to him.

You putter around in your room at the Wet Wick as you go about your nightly routine. The occasional cheer or thud from below only accentuates your nervous energy, punctuating your reluctance to settle down and get into bed. You smooth the covers with your bandaged hands and fluff the pillow before extinguishing the lamplight. You tug the bedding up above your shoulders, fighting to get comfortable. As your eyelids finally start to droop, the flicker of a shadow catches your attention.   It dances and sways and bends and grows until suddenly it is right in front of you.  On top of you. Silken, blood red drips down onto your face, a knife gleam smile too close for comfort.  You breathe in a gasp, wondering if you should scream. “Vere, what–” “Shhh,” he coos, pressing a finger lightly to your lips.  His breath is hot against your skin. “I only came to keep you warm, pet.”

Heat Signature

“Poor thing.” Vere purrs.  “Your lips are so cold.”  He leans ever closer, his mouth hot over yours–hovering.  His other hand reaches for your face as well, nails trailing against your cheek in a teasing caress.

You feel even the thought of being cold leave your body, replaced instead by the unusual thrill he commands, that strange enthralling sway.

That heat you’ve come to associate with Vere; sweet tendrils of want that nestle in your bloodstream.

You squirm a little, though you can’t move much with him looming over you.

(You should probably do more to protest his intrusion into your room, you think to yourself, though, the majority of you is–curious, daresay even far too eager to–)

“Whatever trouble did you get up to that left you in such a state?”

At this you scoff, tilting your head back into the pillow and effectively knocking Vere’s finger from your lips.  

“As if you don’t know,” you accuse.

Vere looks entirely unperturbed by you shaking him off, his lithe fingers traveling freely along the newly displayed skin of your throat, making your pulse jump.

Vere chuckles at that, dark and silky.

“Being tight lipped about your adventures, hm?”  He angles your face just so, ensuring you meet his sharp eyes, his nose brushing up against yours.  “Not that it matters.  It so happens I do know what you’ve been up to.  Trespassing in places that don’t belong to you.”

“...It was an abandoned building.  I don’t think it really belonged to anyone.”

“And that’s where you’d be wrong,” Vere says, “everything in this city belongs to someone, darling.  You just don’t know what belongs to who yet.”  He peers down at you with laughter in his expression, though there's a distinct edge to it that you can't quite place.

“So, you're here because that building belongs to you...?”

“Hmm, amongst other things.  However shall I make you apologize to me for this most egregious offense?”  He asks airily, shifting until he’s beside you rather than perched over you, resting his cheek in his hand and letting his eyes slip closed. He's the absolute picture of unbothered leisure.  

(You’re not fooled–he’s simply waiting for you to let your guard down before he pounces.)

You open your mouth to deny any debts on your part (though, if your ghost hunting spot was indeed Vere’s hideout, you really do feel guilty) but Vere cuts you off before you can speak.

“Alas, I suppose it’s not mine anymore.  Within a week it will reek of wet dogs and cheap booze. It's a lost cause now that those drooling reprobates know it's inhabitable.  A pity.  By Eridia's standards it really was divine in its heyday.  Good wine, music, dancing.  There was this portrait artist who would paint the performances…”

His tone remains light as he reminisces.  But the look he pins you with is dangerous: his eyes gleaming bright, his canines bared in an irreverent grin.

“I had such hopes and dreams of reviving the place myself.  Some of the dances were very scandalous.  You never did share with me your stance on dancing, did you?”

You stumble out an approximate answer.  It’s…harmless information to give, isn’t it?

Though, judging by how pleased Vere looks, you wonder if you should have refused to say.  He looks positively wicked as he ponders your answer aloud.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ve got plenty of talents to share.  In another life, perhaps I'd have put you on stage.  Though, I admit.  I find myself partial to a private show.”

And–as expected–the moment you let your guard down, he's in your space again, crowding you.  Heat and proximity and the softest brush of his lips against yours, light enough to send a thrill down your spine, curiosity and a want so deep it surprises you.

“Well?”  He purrs.  “Care to audition?”

You can't hide behind the excuse of supernatural sway or charm or the thrall of hypnotic sunglo eyes.  It's not Vere's power that controls you. It's your own gnawing desire; starvation and longing that draws you to him despite all sense.

Kissing Vere is heady.  Dizzying.  

Kissing Vere is like being in conversation with Vere–a constant of giving and taking, being chased after and running to keep up.  It’s enticing and alluring and decadent and never quite enough, over too soon even as you feel yourself losing air, the rush of blood and sensation threatening to overwhelm you.

He gives a parting nip to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

Then another one, playful, to your jaw.

When he presses his face into the side of your neck, you expect him to bite again.

What you don’t expect is for him to nuzzle into you, inhaling deeply before heaving a great sigh, his tail flopping lazily to land across you with a thump.

He’s officious as he rearranges the covers, ensuring your arms are tucked carefully away from him before he’s willing to fully settle into the bedding, pulling the blankets up around the both of you like a den.  He hums something low in his chest as he tucks himself up alongside you, long tail curled around your waist. 

It’s rhythmic–

purring.

And it’s…soothing, actually.

The weight of him, the warmth.  The incessant lamplight of the Amaryllis District, shining ever present through your window, is dim–tolerable, even, courtesy of Vere's magnificent shadow manipulations and the blankets sheltering you. 

The constant noise seems to fade away as well, obscured by the sound of purring. “Falling asleep when you have me in your bed, pet?  You really do try your luck…”

[ganondoodle]

i am still trying to fight this weird art low i have been having for so long, everything takes so much effort, it didnt use to take so much effort i swear, why does it ... take so much .... so .. so much effort now

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Many Languages of Love - February event!

Hi lovelies! February is often themed with romance because Valentine’s Day, and I, a sad little lonely peanut who has never had romance in my life, finds it quite annoying that the only love anyone in our culture cares about is romantic, emphasizing it to the point that it makes you feel like your life is incomplete without romance.

SO.

February is now the month of love, BUT it covers all the kinds of love - romantic, friendship, familial, and selfless/sacrificial. Because love is a beautiful thing and NOT just pigeon holed to romantic partners! I can’t write something for every day, but I will be dividing the themes into each week and will hopefully write a couple per week. Enjoy! :)

[lovesickeros]

lord its so dark in here the sahara desert of tsaritsa content you are like a shining oasis. your characterisation of her compels me & mihoyo would be hard pressed to top it imo.!! caaaaan i humbly request yr thoughts on her first meeting w a reader of any kind, or maybe even multiple kinds (sagau, sagau god au, isekai, etc) if you so desire...

it really is like a desert here. being the fan of a character we aren't getting until the last damn nation is driving me up a wall but i will persevere bc if nothing else i support morally bankrupt women in media. we r in a severe drought over here but i do my best. unfortunately nothing i say is ever coherent so pull out your translation notes its abt 2 be messy

also this got out of hand but thats bc first meetings w the tsaritsa are tricky to write + a LOT of her characterization lies in deeper exploration then just surface level yknow...NOT A DIG AT YOU this is just my excuse for rambling. gently pats the tsaritsa she can hold so much complexity i do not have the word count to delve into it completely :]

gonna talk cult au for a bit here though because that's 99% of my content. and honestly? she thrives in sub au's of the cult au like villain au + imposter au. it's basically made for her. i mean, early days, the imposter au had been going around for a little while but one of the first few ideas was the Fatui taking reader in so like. it kinda technically actually was. pretty sure cult au Tsaritsa popped up because of the imposter au. a lot of it's writers kinda left though which. man am i getting old or.

anyway.

there isn't much of a chance her first impression is all that positive. at best it's usually neutral, imo, but rarely if ever positive. specifically because i view the Tsaritsa as someone who isn't as fanatical as most of the acolytes typically are towards the creator. she's not exactly going to worship the ground you walk on unlike a certain geo lizard. which is partially why i think she thrives in the sub au's i mentioned.

imposter au, for example. she meets you at your lowest. there's no gaudy extravagance or pampering from the acolytes waiting for you because your own acolytes have turned on you. for all intents and purposes you aren't a "god" at all. which is why i don't think she meshes well with normal cult au reader. the Fatui are made up of outcasts, basically, and imposter au slots right in just perfectly. you're weak, at your lowest, when you meet the Fatui in the imposter au. and the Fatui can help you, too.

a mutual exchange, really. the Tsaritsa sees a tool she can use to one up the rest of the nations and especially Archons, and she has no qualms about you using her and the Fatui in turn. you both want something out of it, after all. whether you just want to be safe from the rest of the acolytes, or you want revenge, or whatever else..she'll give you the power to fulfill it, and she gains the strongest piece on the chessboard when all is said and done.

the best way i can describe the first meeting is "practical", i suppose. she sees an opportunity in you. the ultimate gamble. because if she "saves" you, and you dont trust anyone else because they tried to kill you, well..she holds all the cards, doesn't she?

but the Tsaritsa, imo, is just as capable of being just as fanatical towards you as anyone else. she just won't worship you as the creator. but as yourself? clawing your way back to your divine power and taking back what belongs to you? the Tsaritsa is, to me, a character who's character flourishes in long-term fics more because she changes a LOT between "just met reader" and after having been with reader for some time. she's practically apathetic at the beginning but a lot of her character, in my characterization, shines through LONG after the first meeting.

[glamorousdame]

i want to worship the sun

[random-autie-fangirl]

I drew another Chara- living with the Dreemurrs edition

"The King and Queen treated the human child as their own. The underground was filled with hope."

I don't like this as much as the last one but oh well... I ended up rambling a huge amount in the tag, so if you want details and headcanons about the actual drawing again, you'll have to look pretty far down this time, sorry (Also, I ran out of tags after a while. Tumblr is tired of me, lol. I might reblog this more tags later if I remember what I was going to say.)

[hercarisntyours]

so fear street prom queen huh

[deeplyridiculouslyinlove]

I just rewatched 02 x 07 for the first time since finishing all the books and I can't stop thinking about it. I feel like everyone is either on the side of (1) it was all a big ploy, or (2) that's it for Moiraine and Siuan they can never come back from this--but I really don't think either of those are true.

I think the most in character thing Moiraine could possibly do is forgive Siuan, for the following reasons:

Moiraine knows that she would do the exact same thing that Siuan did here--namely, sacrifice anything (even their relationship and their trust in one another)--for the sake of the world and their mission. And this shared goal, these compatible values, and this mutual understanding is literally what has kept them together despite 20 years of distance and secrecy from the world.

[MINOR BOOK SPOILERS] We see in one of the books that Moiraine believes she and Siuan have made their beds and will lie in them one day by becoming involved in the quest to find the Dragon -- I believe the way she phrases it is about payment coming due for all the rules they've broken and the secrecy etc. that they needed for their quest. If this is her attitude, she is not only willing to give up everything, but expects to give up everything. And she expects it of Siuan as well.

Siuan has already proven how much she would give up for their quest. She became Amyrlin despite, as we learn this same episode, how much she did not want to be trapped in the tower and could not see her future there. She gave up any semblance of a happy life (how she would picture it both with and without Moiraine!) for this quest.

In some ways, if Siuan had just let Moiraine take Rand through a waygate to Falme, it would have actually been a betrayal of their mission. Their mission wasn’t “get Rand to Falme.” It was “protect and train the dragon reborn.” Siuan feels the need to do that as acutely as Moiraine does--and critically, Moiraine knows this about Siuan.

This goes quadruple if Siuan actually did think Moiraine could be a dark friend. Siuan thinks Moiraine lied to her!! And Moiraine knows this too, since Siuan does at least have the chance to say "You lied to me!" Moiraine would understand that if there was any chance Moiraine had been turned or was compelled, Siuan had to try and stop her from taking Rand off to god knows where.

Literally just a few days earlier Moiraine had threatened to have Alanna take Lan’s bond by force if he stood in her way--aka, the way of her mission. At this very moment, Moiraine herself has spent days (weeks?) contemplating what it would mean to betray the autonomy and trust of those she loves most if it means saving the world. And she knows what side she's on.

When Moiraine says, “if you have ever loved me don’t do this” my heart shatters into a million pieces. But that line is not just ,“it will be a betrayal of our love and trust if you compel me." It is that, but it's also a call for Siuan to see Moiraine for MOIRAINE. She’s saying “you know me.” She’s trying to get her (Siuan) to see that what she (Moiraine) is doing is not about her shame and pride but about the mission. Because it is ALWAYS about the mission, Moiraine IS the mission, and Siuan loves her because of that, and Moiraine knows Siuan loves her because of that 

Moiraine clearly hesitates before going through the waygate. Her character isn't one to linger out of shock and betrayal. She lashes out and she puts up distance--we've seen this all season. Moiraine moves forward. So I read her looking at Siuan here as far more "I love you and I'm sorry [I can't help you? it's come to this? we can't reconcile?]" than "How could you?" or "You're a different person to me now." I’m not trying to minimize the violation Moiraine is also feeling in this moment, I just think that if the violation was her primary emotion she would likely behave differently. And if she can have this messy a set of emotions even in the heart of the moment, I have faith she can similarly hold multiple emotions later when reconciling.

The flashback scenes are so heartbreaking but they don’t have to mean that Moiraine and Siuan feel so betrayed and far from those versions of themselves that they will never be together again. Those flashbacks can also be saying “remember when we were those people?” Holding onto those versions of themselves is how they hold onto their love despite this scene.

Those flashbacks also remind us that their relationship in the show is like 50 years old. It is deep. People don't throw away 50 years of relationship without a conversation, even if there is a deep betrayal involved. And that's normal people--not even people who have given up absolutely everything for a cause that the relationship has now gotten wrapped up in. In the books, they are together for a few years and then seemingly go their separate ways when the Dragon is reborn. I don't think the show would have gone out of its way to deepen and lengthen this relationship just to end it so quickly and unceremoniously.

[unnonexistence]

new year, new WIP post! at the end of 2024 i had 8672 words edited and marked as Done on the Big WIP. now i'm up to 8865

[xxplastic-cubexx]

first day of class and they askin my favorite movie on the spot like PLEASE i need five minutes to decide which flavor of cherik i like today you cant spring this on me

[kazooyah]

btw I CANT STAND HITS 1 RADIO

[tmos-time]

late for valentines by about a week but: do you have any particular erisol headcanons about what their favorite things about each other are? any pet names they use other than the obvious nicknames?

ohhhh i can certainly pick a few! im always rotating little things my eridan and sollux like about each other <3

eridan's points of fondness — sollux is warm. his laugh is an ugly nasally snicker-y thing. sometimes there's moments he's so uncool it wraps back to being cool again. he's well attuned to how eridan works as a person.

eridan's pet names — i've mentioned before in prior tags that he sometimes uses darlin' and sweetheart. i find he tends to use them in an almost post-ironic sense; 'feminine' like a catty gay or a cowboy. they're used WAY less than when he affectionately calls sollux a shithead, bastard, prick, etc. but in terms of normal pet names, they're the staples. a rare pet name is sunshine; he just finds it charming that sollux's full name is practically "sun catcher" while he's just as bright and warm and dangerous as the sun. sometimes likes to call sollux his quadratrois, because they cannot be fucked to unblend their quadrants past one big smudge of romance.

sollux's points of fondness — eridan gets along well with aradia. he's very multi-faceted, and some of those facets to who he is are contradictions. he's made so much progress as a person since they were all six sweeps old. he prefers quiet nights in watching shows and movies over bigger dates.

sollux's pet names — besides the affectionate uses of asshole, idiot, dumbass, etc. sollux tends to only have "handsome" in his list of pet names. even then, he doesn't really use it that often. if he didn't exclusively use it as a descriptor, pretty-boy would be here too, lol. sometimes calls eridan his quadratres, because he likes to be a contradictory ass about what they call their blended quadrants lmao.

[ripcarrotchan]

taro buys jiro a weird-looking kitty plushie

(this is a scene from my fic about taro and jiro going to the park and jiro getting a plushie! ;;w;;)

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I posted a sketch of Abel being happy so now I guess the tax must be paid and he must have angst again

It didn't take long for the excitement to wear off.

The outburst started gently, at least. Link wandered anxiously, hands held out in front of him as if he were going to grab something or play with something, and then he wrung them nervously. He sniffled, eyes widening and watering.

"Link?" Abel prompted, putting the last of his armor on his bed.

And that was all it took. Abel stared in alarm as his little boy burst into tears, catching the attention of their roommate, Norri, who flinched.

“I want to go home,” Link cried.

Abel knelt down to be at eye level with the boy, trying to settle him quickly. “Link, we can’t go home.”

“But I want to go home!”

“I know,” Abel acknowledged, putting his hands on the little one’s shoulders. Link’s eyes were puffy now, his face red as he stood there and sobbed. “I know you do. But we can’t go home. We have to stay here.”

“I want Mama!”

Abel’s heart clenched. For a moment he couldn’t speak, emotions drowning his voice, but Link’s wails pierced through the fog, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as Norri began to look agitated.

Quickly picking his boy up, he hastened outside, pressing Link’s face to his shoulder both to wipe his tears and try to muffle his cries as he whispered again, “Link, calm down. We can’t go home. I told you we would be here a while.”

It was ridiculous to assume a four-year-old would truly understand his words when he had explained the trip and he knew it. It was foolish to think this was going to be fine. But he had hoped… after running into the king himself had managed to not be disastrous, and after Link had spent two days wandering without incident, he’d hoped it would be all right.

Link cried louder, legs wiggling as he started to progress to a full-on meltdown. Abel held on to him helplessly. Tilieth always had more patience for these moments, always knew how to soothe their child when he himself didn’t know how to do so. Abel was of no use in this situation – he expressed his emotions so differently, so quietly in comparison to that of a child. He tried to remember what his sisters did, but Ama always focused outward on their younger sister, and he’d never really figured out how to calm Shola down so much as just argue with her. So he… had no experience in this.

“Link,” Abel said helplessly as he finally made it outside to avoid causing a ruckus in the palace. “Link, settle down. We can’t go home; you have to accept that.”

No matter what words Abel chose, Link wouldn’t accept that. He repeated his displeasure continuously, so much so that Abel was afraid he’d wake all of Zora’s Domain. He tried to hide in a corner somewhere, climbing one of the passageways that twirled around the Domain, ignoring the damp chill that began to settle through his light undertunic and trousers. Link didn’t seem to notice it, though he felt the little boy’s fingers steadily turn to icicles.

Frustration started to pull at him. He couldn’t calm his child, he couldn’t get him to be quiet, he was screaming in his ear—it wasn’t as if Abel himself didn’t want to see Tilieth, as if he weren’t worrying about his wife who was on death’s door with illness—

Abel, stop. He’s a child.

And? He’d stared at his dead father’s face, smelled the stench of rotting flesh despite the perfumes liberally poured around him, all when he was a child. He’d watched it kill his mother slowly for two years before she finally joined him.

You were eight at that point. He’s four. He doesn’t understand and you know that.

The frustration grew, though, despite his arguments, despite him knowing that his boy couldn’t help this. Perhaps it was just because he was angry at himself for even thinking about this, for ever suggesting and fighting for bringing a four-year-old child to a diplomatic mission, for having to shoulder the responsibility of the entire family while his wife was dying—

Abel bit his lip until it bled, trying to ignore the sobs coming from his son. Instead, he held him tightly, rocking back and forth, out of words, out of patience, out of emotions, out of everything. His repeated whispers devolved into hushes, offering what little comfort he could. It didn’t feel like nearly enough. It never felt like enough.

Link cried himself into exhaustion, his wailing finally settling into hiccups, and Abel released a full breath, having been rigid as a board for what felt like an hour. Slowly, hesitantly, he started making his way back to the central part of the Domain, thankful for the lack of people in the area, but hesitated before going to the palace. He himself was too full of emotions and energy now, and he knew he couldn’t sleep. Instead, he tucked Link more closely to the center of his chest, head right under his chin, and continued to sway back and forth with a light bounce to his knees. He wandered aimlessly, mind helplessly full of cotton and unable to process words anymore, before he found himself in front of the statue of Hylia.

It was a small statue, carved in the luminous stones of the area, giving it an ethereal glow. Some aquatic plant was adorning her head like a crown. It was lopsided, like a child had placed it there and wasn’t quite tall enough to get it right.

Abel slid to the ground, back against the railing behind him, Link held ever so closely. The boy was limp with exhaustion, asleep and warm in the embrace. Abel shivered.

He had no words to offer in a prayer. Instead, he just stared. Hylia smiled serenely back.

Abel stayed there, in a strange trance, overwhelmed and underwhelmed, energized and exhausted, until the sun started to reflect on the sparkling stones.