#get back here bitch

[mariaalenkoshepard]

Just left the mako and Kaidan just fucking... ran away over a mountain 🏔️ 🏃🏽 just fucking disappeared into the distance 😂

[theghooligan]

daemon and all the ghosts of harrenhall living it up every night:

[nocofamilyau]

I sure hope Hijotee is doing well wherever they may be... (21/24)

[bread-wizards]

I actually think Dorian and Orym should fight more.

Remember when their slowly building tension over and entire episode (full of passive aggressive remarks and blame throwing) led to threats? And how after, Orym thanked Dorian for handing over the crown sadly because he knew Dorian would be mad at him? And Dorian couldn't even look at him because he was legitimately hurt, thinking Orym was disappointed in him for doing what he thought was right? That was peak.

The fact they went from that to their current closeness and trust is the best part of their entire dynamic. Their relationship was hard fought and still will be. They will fight for it because they respect and care for one another deeply, and their disagreements don't change that, only improve it.

[atopvisenyashill]

my opinion on “does joffrey know about the incest” is that he honestly genuinely does not suspect a god damn thing UNTIL the big blow up when his father dies. the combo of ned doing All Of That when he’d previously been so politically inactive + stannis AND renly crowning themselves is all the confirmation he needs for all the weird shit he’s seen throughout his life to click into place but what EYE think clicks into place is “oh this bitch SEDUCED my WEAK and INNOCENT MOTHER from my AMAZING father????” and from then on he’s praying robb kills jaime before the war ends.

[everyones-least-favorite-bard]

"The Fourth Wall said. 「 You are Yoo Joonghyuk. 」 I wasn't Yoo Joonghyuk."

[box-dwelling]

I do love the duke Wyll trophy wife Astarion dynamic a lot but every time I play in that space I always wind up with this

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

[fuckmeyer]

if smeyer wasn't a coward vamp!Bella would have immediately eaten her daughter Rensesmem whole-hog like Saturn Devouring His Son

[slocumjoe]

in other news, is there any romance quite as frustrating and stupid as danse x sole, when you look at it from. Any other companions point of view.

Preston Garvey has his whole world chewed up and spat out at his feet. Everyone he knew and loved is dead. Maybe he had a best friend, a lover, a brother or sister in the Minutemen. Maybe they were a civilian in Quincy. It doesn't matter anymore. This guy who's given you this second chance, you go with him to try and redeem yourself.

You are Preston Garvey, the last original Minuteman. You are tired, down in your bones, but you follow this stranger in a strange land across what you call home. While you're both picking through the ruins of Lexington, finding the corpses of the last of your friends, their pipboy gets a signal. A call for help.

You go to Cambridge. You help a dude in power armor gun down some ferals. As you reload your musket, dust yourself off, you look up as the big guy starts talking to your pal. And you can hear the white noise behind their eyes. You blink as they agree without question or hesistancy to do anything this dude needs. They're pretty nice, they're a good person, but usually you're not worried about if they're using their brain or not. Now, you're kinda worried. So you follow your buddy and Paladin Danse (What kind of name...) to some space station or whatever, watch them cook the man alive after some button mashing gone wrong, and then he can barely offer them a place in the Brotherhood before they're verbally signing their life away.

You are Preston Garvey. Your General has joined another, foreign army because this one guy, who had the charisma of a bag of corn nuts, asked. You are Preston Garvey. You are tired. Your general is now wearing a rival army's uniform because it makes that one guy happy. You want a nap so fucking bad.

You are Nick Valentine. You are a synth. You just helped this dude find out their baby is in the Institute. You walk out some security doors and see this big, hulking shadow in the sky, smothering the land from the sun. It bellows out that it comes in peace, heralded by armed air support, spotlights glowering down. You smell war and you don't even have a nose. As you stand there, in the wind, covered in blood and oil from the synths you've helped kill, you watch as your...client? You watch the dweller turn on their pipboy, mark Cambridge on their map, and make their way to the road.

You follow, of course. You follow, stupid sentimental bot you are, to thr Brotherhood of Steel. The dweller is vibrating to get on the death blimp. The guy offering the ride, Danse, is both sizing you up like you're a hot meal and like he wonders if you're actually a synth, because how the fuck would the dweller think bringing you here was a good idea? You shrug at him. You don't know either. You get on the vertibird. You get on the blimp. The dweller bats their eyes at Danse as he stomps down a catwalk, and they snap back to their normal selves once they talk to Kells. They balk and turn green and scoff out in the hall as you both listen to Maxoson's speech. They wonder how dumb a man could be as you venture deeper into the bowels of the beastly aircraft. People sneer at you. You are in danger. You stay very close to the dweller. You both find Danse again. He asks what they think. They don't say what they were just saying. He believes in himself, he sounds like he cares, he seems to truly trust in this army and it's cause. Not "what a load of horseshit." Danse beams with pride and they drink it in like clean water.

You are Nick Valentine. You wish you could drink.

[dailyloopdeloop]

DAY 75: onehat

[yashley]

imogen & fearne in c3e81

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Wei Wuxian 🤝 Maleficent: Not being invited to a child's birthday party but showing up anyways (to make things worse).

(for @youremysunshine8)

[galaxostars]

“where else did he want to run to when he was scared besides right here?”

extract from a scene in Hide Your Fires by @starsworth

I am still in pieces since that hug ✌🏻

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

A very self indulgent tatted and pierced up Ichimatsu thas it

[casualavocados]

He's been very quiet since he visited you that time. He's always quiet. Not that kind of quiet.

KISEKI: DEAR TO ME Ep. 12