#raven writes stuff

[shorthaltsjester]

i truly am baffled by some of the cr fandom when it comes to the topic of the gods and c1 and death in general because. the raven queen didn’t kill vax. in fact she gave him more time. she Does get the blame from keyleth and some from vex but even those two by the end were more so just holding grudges wrapped up in their own issues that were exacerbated by vax’s choices. but it was always vax’s choice. which, y’know, i’m aware of a portion of the cr fandom’s propensity for dismantling every interesting choice a character makes into something forced upon them, but the role of fate in exandria has never been like bad faith you must adhere to the path chosen for you, it’s much more like what brennan has spoken about wrt specificity: as one makes more choices they become more particular to a given outcome. but that’s not some curse by the gods that dooms characters that’s literally just. what living is.

and of course death is a complicated thing that everyone approaches differently but. god the amount of people who view vax’s dynamic with the raven queen as an injustice or his death as some unforgivable thing the raven queen caused some how? in the words of laura bailey, Were We Watching The Same Orb? it isn’t an injustice that vax, completely willing to pay whatever it cost him to save his sister, was bound to the Deal He Agreed To. his role as the champion was one he found meaning and purpose in. further, it was the raven queen that allowed him to be resurrected later in the campaign. like, it isn’t fair that vax had so little time but it is time he chose and time he was given, but vox machina tends to fall on the reaping the benefits side of unfairness of power in exandria. if what makes the gods — particularly the matron of ravens — irredeemable is that they have the power to make choices that mortals can’t like denying someone’s resurrection, how irredeemable must the group of heroes called vox machina (whose members drop like flies to be revived moments later) be to the everyday person who just has to watch the people they love die and make peace with it?

of course it sucks that vax could not have a happy ending or epilogue like the rest of vm, except of course, vex has a family and is happy and loved, and keyleth is strong and alive and protected, and i think that looks a lot like what vax wanted most.

[contrarianwitt]

the only way i can wrap my head around gansey/blue being awol during the dreamer trilogy is that they were going through their own crazy magical roadtrip adventure involving the ley lines and the trees

because how could gansey abandon his brothers and blue not talk to her raven boys without a really good reason?

[odysseus-day]

i can't stop thinking about the absolute fucking tragedy of jeremy's first banquet, so i may have started a new pre-canon fic... noah wilshire, my beloved, trust and believe i will oc-ify you just like i did the moment i found out jean had a little sister. ❤

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64112020/chapters/164499778

[demon-of-arts]

[wishchip106]

more ready player one cherik au ideas

erik is pretty much a complete loser irl and online and barely has any friends until he meets charles at the first trial and joins his online friendgroup (aka fc xmen) when he gets the first key

everyones avatars are more based on their comic looks so they all look a bit silly but its the oasis so its okay

thats pretty much it so far my brain is slowly building some kind of a story but it hasn’t gone into details yet

i dont even know if im gonna write this i just gotta dump my ideas here otherwise they’ll be sent to the void

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

How do you edit your pics? They look so stunning

Are you talking about the character banners I use? (Like this one:)

Thank you ^^ I had help from a friend in figuring out the initial assets (border, pen, texture) and basic composition, so I can’t take all the credit.

I use a combination of official card art, a textured layer with a soft light filter (so it makes the official art I lay with it look like it is drawn on a sheet of parchment), and free assets I find on sites like PNGtree. Some of the borders are even hand-drawn.

I have many other variations of this same standard banner layout; those I throw together based on my own instincts and pure vibes 😂

[gomzdrawfr]

I see your post about OCPD + STPD König. Consider: SZPD Ghost and NPD Graves.

I love showing my love for characters by hitting them with the personality disorder beam

cant comment much on Graves because i dont think about him but SZPD Ghost is interesting

warning: mcd, death

Would kinda match his behaviour, like he's detached and muted but is not disloyal, doesn't outwardly crave a close bond over a multitude of factors (hurts to let someone in only for them to leave the second he gets attached), he tolerates it however if someone breach it slowly. Limit on physical contact, another masked guy so there's a barrier there between himself and everything else.

He's always processing emotions differently, or at all really. Most of the things and events are easy to bury under layers of habit and duty. It's hard to feel them, it's just easier to...dissect, interpret, clinically examine emotions than to experience. Easier to detect and recognize patterns; how a smile works, what warmth is (tilt of a head, tilt too much to the left then it's anger etc).

Easier to see it in a distance, than to let any of it reach and settle inside him, whether he wants to acknowledge it or not.

Maybe that's why in mw3 he's just there, you know the scene I'm talking about.

Kneeling beside Johnny, palm pressed against his chest.

Maybe he's waiting, watching, listening for that pattern and familiar rhythm he's came to memorized, the rise and fall clocked precisely at 1.2 seconds between each breath, waiting for his hand to swat his left wrist away with a cough.

But it doesn't happen, there's nothing.

Even though Ghost bloody knows (intellectually and clinically) that it's over, there's no pulse no movement no breath, the bullets gone through there's red staining his pants, there's also a large part of Ghost that just can't know it.

Can't process it, not all the way. But he also can't file it neatly away to the back of his head like everything else.

So maybe that's why he remained there even if the timer goes down and the bomb went off.

He can't let go, can't know how to leave, when to leave, when to accept.

[leupagus]

A War of Seasons, Chapter 9: Arianne

Title: A War of Seasons Author: leupagus Fandom: Game of Thrones Chapter: 9 of 24 Wordcount: 55,082 Rating: M Warnings: Author Chooses Not To Warn Tags: Canon Divergence AU (Season 6) Excerpt:

"Did you solve the Daynes' crisis, dearest petal?" Loras asked, when at last she returned to their rooms, trailed by two of House Dayne's guards and their shared burden. "Did you dazzle them with your brilliance and find a solution no one else could have possibly considered?" "In a way." She directed the men to set down the great chest in the darkest corner of the room. They did so and left with another bow, no doubt relieved to be rid of the thing. It was old and heavy and ugly, and she resisted the urge to kick it. Loras peered over the back of the sofa upon which he reclined. "Doesn't seem like much a reward," he observed. "It's not," she replied. It was the hour of the wolf; inasmuch as it could, the Red Keep was asleep. Yet Loras was awake in their shared chamber, one of his tiresome dissertations on fencing in his hand and a half-full glass of water-wine at his elbow, with an empty glass and a flagon beside it. "You didn't have to wait for me," she said, absurdly touched. He shrugged, placing a marker between the pages before shutting his book and setting it on the nearby table. "The bed was too cold without you," he said sardonically as he patted the seat beside him. "Now, tell me everything. Including why you've just broken your own mother's rule about bringing nothing into the home that is not beautiful." "You're incorrigible," she said, but sat all the same. It was strange, how familiar Loras had become to her in so short a time. The great Houses of Dorne and the Reach had despised each other for centuries, when the Lords of the Reach had been Gardeners and not Tyrells. Yet Arianne had found no trace of the family's animosity in Loras or Margaery (though their father and grandmother held more than their shares, and outrage besides that Loras had betrothed himself to a Martell without so much as seeking their blessing). She suspected Margaery's warmth to be calculated in part, which she did not begrudge; a Queen would need all the allies she could charm. But Loras seemed to hold a genuine affection for her, which she had never expected. Such affection could not be relied upon, of course; her own parents had once held affection for one another, but it had not overcome the pull of their conflicting needs and expectations. She and Loras would one day rule their own Houses and their own kingdoms. She could no more trust him than she could any other great lord. But for now she could confess, a little, of her own burden.

[vivitalks]

Colin turns to the tunnel Amangeaux is gesturing at just as she starts to run. He turns back to Deli. Then back to the tunnel, his only shot at survival. This was the point. It was never that they wouldn't make it; it was that Deli wouldn't. If he insists on sacrificing himself, Colin should allow him the dignity of that decision. He should do as Deli says. He should save himself.

Of course he turns back. In every version of this story, he goes back for Deli.

“Stop telling me what to do,” he bites out. “I’m not fucking leaving you.”

colindeli for the doomed yaoi enjoyers

[cursedwerewolf]

in dream thieves, adam's mattress is specifically described as an ikea mattress, so now i need a fic where ronan and gansey take him to ikea (noah's probably there as well). it's right after trb, so adam is being all creepy and haunted by the magical forest he just sold his soul to, gansey is feeling all heartbroken and betrayed, ronan has just revealed he can take things out of his dreams and they're all freshly traumatised by seeing their latin teacher be trampled to death. they all have probably never been to ikea so they have that whole experience to take in. they eat shitty hotdogs and mispronounce swedish names and buy too many scented candles

(i am just gonna have to write this aren't i)

[restless-demon34]

I am writing 2 other JereJean fanfics plus my own book but why not add a JereJean Epic AU? Never have enough to do 😭😭��

Anyways! Here is the list of the characters and who they will be taking place of, some of them are characters from The Golden Raven, you have been warned:

Odysseus-Jean

Penelope-Jeremy

Telemachus-Tanner

Eurylochus-Zane

Polites-Cody

Zeus-Ichirou

Athena-Laila

Aeolus-Cat

Hera-Thea

Apollo-Xavier

Hephaestus-Andrew

Ares-Kevin

Aphrodite-Annalise

Circe-Renee

Hermes- Neil

Antinous- Ivan Faser

The Suitors- Jeremy's exes/hookups

Calypso-Grayson

Poseidon-The Master

Polyphemus-Riko

Tiresias-Lucas

Scylla-Josiah

Anyone not listed (sirens, charybdis) has either been forgotten or I am not assigning a character to because it doesn't feel as necessary to assign a character to them.

[chasedeys]

fascinating. it’s like every team i start rooting for starts combusting inwards. should i start rooting for the chiefs. patrick mahomes you’re so cool 🥳 you’ve never flopped once in your life 🎊🎉

[not-poignant]

My assumption about you is that you’re not very minimalistic? And that you might be even like to collect little knickknacks, trinkets, or shinies?

Haha that's spot on, anon.

I think part of it is just naturally that I worked as a traditional artist for a decade, and so my house is filled with art, art supplies, sketches, sketchbooks, and thousands of coloured pencils and other mediums etc.

But yeah my hobbies are definitely around - whether it's stationery or Paperblanks journals, Lego or tarot decks or blind box / collector's toys or crystals.

I can be quite mercenary something, once I'm no longer enjoying something I often give it away to someone who will enjoy it.

I'd say I don't actually really like collecting knickknacks/trinkets specifically, there's very specific hobbies all my stuff is connected to. Even the blind box toys serve as artistic inspiration. I like functional pretty things. As soon as it loses its purpose, it goes to someone else.

But I am a big fan of living a healthier childhood as an adult so there are just playful things around :D

~

From the Assumptions meme!

[gallopinggallifreyans]

last one before i buckle down for the semester (featuring a little headcanon about summer)

[inastarlesssky]

Okay, it's here.

I am so very grateful to @kydrogendragon for so kindly looking over this silly little bit of writing. It's my first attempt at a fic for The Sandman, and I tried my level best to do Morpheus and Calliope justice.

Anyway, here it is! Little attempt at a fix-it that had to break things a little bit first. Basically a look at what would have happened if Calliope had visited the Dreaming on that 'one day perhaps'...

[kaseyskat]

Once, this palace was lively. 

Well, as lively as it could be, given its history. Still, despite all grievances, Lark had been happy here, running the halls, causing mayhem and mischief, tearing down trees in the forest and exploring and everything else that came with living in a near-abandoned castle in the middle of nowhere. 

Maybe they should’ve expected that the old owners wouldn’t be so happy about a new family coming and redecorating the place. Lark hadn’t– he was a kid! So really, it was their parents to blame, wasn’t it? 

Their parents aren’t here anymore though. It’s just Lark, curled up in the room he had claimed as his own, and the wolf form of his brother sprawled out next to him, asleep. 

It’s so unfair that I don’t get to be a person when I’m awake much, Lark thinks with a grumble as he stands, stretching his arms and staring out the open window at the star-lit sky. Already, the moon has dipped close to the horizon, meaning that his time on two legs is just about over. Whatever. 

He doesn’t look at Sparrow. When the curse settled in, it felt like that’s all they ever did– frantically looking at one another during the rise and fall of the sun, hoping to catch a glimpse of the other in human form before being overtaken by magic. It’s been a few years though, now, and Lark just sighs as he gingerly runs a hand over the windowsill, enjoying the sensation of dirt and dust lining his fingers. 

Fur brushes against his side, and Lark jumps, glancing down at the wolf that has joined him, head nudging at his legs endearingly. 

“Don’t feel too left out, I wasn’t going anywhere,” he huffs, but he still can’t resist placing one of his hands on top of Sparrow’s head, gingerly stroking through the rough tufts of fur. “We do need more food though. Want me to handle that after sunrise?” 

Sparrow makes a little snorting sound in the back of his throat, and he nudges at Lark’s hand. After years of relying solely on this awful method of communication, Lark interprets that as a yes please, brother, you enjoy the hunt far more than I. 

Never mind that Sparrow’s cursed form is literally a wolf. How he got the cool form and Lark got the stupid bird, Lark will never know. 

The sky lightens to grey, and then a dark red. Lark inhales, and he closes his eyes, his hand falling away from Sparrow’s head. 

When he opens them again, he has shifted forms. Readjusting to Bird Vision is difficult, and he twists his head around, watching as Sparrow curls against the mattress. Despite the sleep he had gotten in wolf form, his eyes are dull, his gaze staring off to nowhere. 

It would seem after years of being cursed like this, to live alone and without each other for company, has finally started to take a toll on his brother. Lark glances longingly out the window for a long moment before carefully flying over to where Sparrow’s curled next to the pillows, tapping his cheek as gently as he can. 

“Sorry Lark,” Sparrow mumbles, and he reaches a hand up to gently comb over Lark’s feathers. “I’m just so tired… you can go out today though, don’t let me stop you.” 

Lark caws at him more insistently. I don’t want to go without you! he tries to convey, hopping down a bit so he can pull at Sparrow’s threadbare shirt, careful not to catch skin. Please don’t give up on me, Sparrow. Please. 

But Sparrow doesn’t move, his eyes fluttering as he dozes off, face screwed up in a grimace. Lark tugs at his shirt for a moment longer before giving up, hopping backwards and looking longingly at the window again. 

Those adventurers are probably still around here, he thinks, flying to the windowsill. Maybe they can help return Sparrow’s spirit. I just have to… bring them here. 

He doesn’t trust anyone. Not since the last person to run into them had been so awful. However, there isn’t much that Lark wouldn’t do for his brother! 

So, with one last glance at Sparrow, Lark takes flight, soaring out the open window and towards the last place he had seen the three imbeciles who were wandering the castle grounds. It’s his only option.