#musings from the beyond

[orchestrel]

isha + jinx headcanons

isha invented her own version of ASL and taught it to jinx. however, they got familiar enough with each other that they didn't need it anymore

jinx played with isha's hair while she was asleep, braiding and unbraiding it

isha kept a small stash of paints and brushes to touch up her jinx tattoos. it became part of her travel pack

the helmet isha wears is from jinx's childhood--powder era. isha dug it up and colored it, and jinx couldn't be mad

sometimes isha hides in random places around the lair so jinx has to find her. this reminds jinx of vi and her, but she never voices this out loud

isha's first invention blew up. jinx threw a party.

isha would absolutely kill it at TFT. she always uses the family unit.

[orchestrel]

pokes you hi i want attention too

i’m such a “i want your attention” but “won’t bother you” kinda person

[dayurno]

honestly you can say anything about the ravens (and you'd be right to) but you can't say the concept of them isn't delicious. a group of collegiate athletes in their intimidating raven motifs and their black uniforms who are basically bred to become the best of the best in a bloodsport. the adrenaline rush of every game being a competition between yourself and your teammates. knowing you're not just gearing up towards court but following in the footsteps of the alumni before you. the parties and the victories and the mindless sex and the way everyone around you somehow seems to always be thinking the same thing as you are. you are never alone and you will never be again if you just do as we say. who knows the kind of relationships that can happen in a place like that?

[orchestrel]

viktor (arcane) headcanons ..

viktor is oddly sentimental and melds a little bit of metal from his previous canes into his current ones

when he was little his first working invention was a clock, and since then he's been fascinated by gears and cogs

since coming to piltover, he marvels at how much food is around him all the time. jayce found him in a grocery store staring at strawberries.

subsequently, strawberries became his favorite fruit

viktor often uses his cane like an extra appendage. he's closed doors, hit jayce, poked a rogue invention, hit jayce, and knocked things off the top shelf with it. also he uses it to hit jayce.

the tips of his hair being blonde came from a slight crisis. he wanted to color it, but getting it to blonde was so much effort that he just left it.

when in the astral plane, viktor hears the songs of souls. he often sings along, but stopped with sky teased him about it

viktor once drank pilk on a dare. he liked it.

viktor also made coffee with redbull instead of water. he worked for 36 hours straight and then slept for 15 hours after the caffeine crash

[orchestrel]

you pain me

[elen-aranel]

I have not quite caught up to live on @worldsbeyondpod yet but

I have decided to become a Suvi apologist. Everything she does is right morally correct and pure. (Even if it is not right, morally correct, or pure. I no longer care.) I love her sm and Aabria plays her so perfectly. Thank you @quiddie

[padfootastic]

hohoho i am writing a remus & sirius confrontation that is ending up a little too mean and it’s verging on the edge of not fitting into FoD but by god, is it satisfying 😈😈😈

“Oh, stop pretending, Remus.” There’s a part of Sirius, not insignificant, that tells him to shut the fuck up. To bite back the words as he’d always done. They don’t expect it of him but he is perfectly capable of maintaining a civil tongue when needed. He just doesn’t want to, today. “You’ve always resented us, haven’t you?”

“Padfoot, do you even hear yourself—?” Remus’ amber eyes are bright, almost feverish, and Sirius knew that all he had to do was push.

So he did.

- brought to u by ‘i’ve been thinking about remus and i also recently read a fic that blindsided me w commentary on james’ and sirius’ social positions intimidating remus into compliance as an excuse for his cowardice and general temperament and got incredibly annoyed at how he is, yet again, victimised so i shall now endeavour to turn that idea around on its head using the ‘ol ‘u cannot help someone who does not want to be helped’ adage so help me god’

[orchestrel]

idk a marine?

if we lived in a world where u had to do the career u were first interested in as a child what would u be doing, id be a firefighter

[unironicallytes]

The Best Part Of WIP Wednesday Was When You Said "It's WIPin' Time" And WIP'd All Over The Dash

Tagged by: @dirty-bosmer No-Pressure Tagging: @miliabyntite @orfeoarte @areggo @thegrunkiest @ulanxxxs @pyre-of-pages @guardianlizard @yansurnummu @moriche @touyadraxon

I haven't made shareable progress on Ch08 (mostly just chiseling away and reorganizing the existing stuff), HOWEVER. The other day I decided to just write a silly little practice scene in the same universe but prior in time.

This is a few years before the start of Dear Brother, when Lucien and Zath have only just recently advanced into the Hand. For AU context, Lucien was not Silencer for long - he worked under the previous Speaker for like, a little under a year, then she just up and keeled over from a heart attack. Which is very suspicious, but no one's said anything in earshot. Basically, that means these two are still very new to the various quirks of Farragut, such as how the prior Speaker handled the Dark Guardians and how she prepared for Frostbiter Season. Here (and to some extent, in the fic proper) Lucien and Zath are the equivalent of new homeowners who just returned to find their pipes have frozen over for the first time.

“Whatever they’re called, I presume you know how to get rid of them. By Sithis, you’d better have some kind of Valenwood remedy for this ...” “Uhh … gotta see what we’re dealin’ with first, I s’pose?” I hustled up beside him as we entered Farragut’s ruined courtyard. “Hello to ye too, by the by.” Lucien only grunted. So much for that warm reunion. But the sight of Farragut’s heavy door stuck wide open by an accumulated snowdrift suddenly demanded priority. We crossed its threshold and he silently pointed to the discarded padlock and chain just inside. Alright, well, that was a bad start. I stared at it in bewilderment as Lucien drew his spatha and gestured for me to keep following. Asp returned to my hand as quickly as it had left. The entry corridor already reeked of death. Some signs of a struggle were painted and etched into the stone, confirming even further that we’d been the target of a break-in. Some foolhardy explorers probably ran into our resident sentries. More pressingly, however, were the massive clumps of web leaking from beyond the open iron gate like pus from a wound. Lucien shot me a sneer as he thrust an accusatory hand at it. He herded me forward to examine the largest clump, where an empty eye socket peered out from within the haphazard cocoon. Cold air delayed the flesh in its decay, but its ripe stench assured me of steady progress still being made. With a scowl, I tossed my head back towards the entryway, tracing a theorized path. Lucien huffed through his nose and nodded. The story was taking shape, but key words remained ink smudges on the page. Where were our Dark Guardians? As if reading my mind, he pulled my attention directly upwards to see a bleached skull hanging from a thick strand. It swung slightly, the lingering shudder of Void magicka still trying to command it. That wasn't reassuring in the slightest. Just a few steps into this first corridor proved a dire warning for the situation in the great hall, and I was beginning to understand Lucien's permanent glower. He ushered me back out and we shivered near the front door for our quiet briefing. “The Guardians probably took care of our guests as expected,” he hissed to me. “But I don't think they knew how to close the fucking door afterwards.” “Surely they do,” I grimaced. “Surely they do. The one in the Sanctuary–” “Never performed any tasks more complex than pacing and beating the fear of Sithis back into Tenet-breakers.” “Ach ... faigh, ye’re right.” “Of course I'm right. Why else would the doors still be open, how else do you think the spiders even got in?”  “Our Guardians though … I coulda sworn these Farragut ones were far smarter when Speaker Krassa was in charge, d’ye remember it like that too? They could work the levers and locks back then, couldn't they? She never had a problem like this.”  Apparently, that was an offensive way to phrase it. Lucien glared down at me like he wanted to bite my head off.  “That is twice you've insulted me today, Silencer,” he snarled. “And I do not have the patience for a third.” Ah. So my unintended slight had suddenly shifted us into Work-Voice ... through which I rolled to show my belly. “Sorry, Speaker. I'm sure I've just missed somethin', I meant nothin' by it.” “Then watch your tongue more carefully.”

[ihavethegrimoire]

Sorry, but the discourse is so fucking obnoxious 99% of the time. "Why am I seeing this interpretation of Character as opposed to my 1, true interpretation of Character" Probably because it makes people's pussy wet. Next.

"We must examine through a post-Maoist materialist frame" Quiet. Please. Have fun with your musings, vent about your disagreements even, but kindly shove it with your insistence everyone engage the same way you do. And please learn some awareness on how obnoxious this sounds. This is the sort of thing people only say as a joke and I'm seeing it spread unironically

[yeonban]

Gen.shin spoilers /

I finished the new Mond.stadt archon quest just now & above all else... I just feel so so so sad for Subj.ect Two's fate

[orchestrel]

can’t let them know I’m feral for a man trying to figure out his place in the world

[orchestrel]

you're a writer and you need me to keep your computer running (i need you for emotional support)

[screentimeoverlord]

He's looking at him, the man that is wed to his daughter.

[alistair-blackwood]

His own breath ragged, Ambrosius leaned in again, just close enough for his lips to graze against Ballister's.

“Let me take care of you.”

-

Ballister loses track of the time and gets caught in the rain. Ambrosius rises to the occasion.

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Ballister Blackheart | Ballister Boldheart/Ambrosius Goldenloin Chapters: 1/1 Chapter Word Count: ~5k Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, Pre-Canon, Service Top Ambrosius, Ballister Acts Like a Sad Wet Cat, Explicit Sexual Content

Inspired by @sefarlen's art here (NSFW), and a very happy Valentine's Day to you as well 😉😉😉 haha what do you mean it's apri

-

Closing the door behind him with a soft click, Ambrosius slipped off his running shoes before stepping inside the apartment. His heart still raced with exertion as he pulled down the hood of his rain-slicked jacket, sweat cooling on the back of his neck and face. The rain had brought down the temperature to a crisp, sublime briskness, and it had been perfect for his evening run (even if his hair could do without the humidity).

Hanging his jacket on the coat rack, chin bobbing to the beat of his music, his eyes passed over the row of shoes, lingering on the leftmost shelf. He paused. The black boots that usually occupied the space were still absent, the same as they were when Ambrosius had first gotten home.

It wasn’t often Ambrosius beat Ballister back at the end of the day, with Ballister usually having long since buried himself in his academy reports. Even rarer for Ambrosius to finish his run and still see that shelf empty. Perhaps he’d gotten carried away with his research project in the archives. Still, why not give Ambrosius a heads-up?

Ambrosius pushed down his growing anxiety. It’s not as if Ballister has never been this late coming home before, especially with their development reports due soon. Ambrosius would just need to call, that was all. Nothing to worry about.

But first, Ambrosius desperately needed a drink. Bending down to open the refrigerator, he retrieved his water bottle and took a slow sip, eyes surveying the inside of the fridge. His fingers tapped to the beat of his music against the fridge door. They haven’t already eaten through all of those strawberries, have they …?

Through his earbuds, he heard a muffled thud behind him. He glanced over just in time to see Ballister shuffle into the main room, his gait sluggish as he dragged his hand down his face. He didn’t seem to notice Ambrosius as he let out a tired sigh, running his hand through his hair.

Ambrosius straightened, letting the fridge door close, and Ballister’s eyes snapped upwards. When their gazes met, Ballister faltered. For a fleeting moment, Ambrosius could see him attempt to mask the fatigue in his eyes, but Ambrosius’ concern must have been obvious as he quickly gave up the charade. He raised a hand, a weary smile tugging his lips. “Sorry I didn’t call.”

[Continue on AO3]

[merchantofwhispers]

[ I dont think I explore enough of the fact that Mina was technically orphaned and adultified herself as a reaction and if you like.. Idk. Hug her. Behave parental towards her. She will either puff up like a pissed owl or have a full cry session. It really is a gamble lmao ]