#returning from the void

[adharastarlight]

also if you feed me, I'll probably stick around for longer

I'm like a stray cat. I kinda just show up then drop off the face of the earth for a few months until everyone thinks I'm dead then I pop up again :)

[beccibarnes]

Birthday Boy

Summary: Of course, Crowley knows they don't have actual birthdays. That doesn't mean one can't celebrate though. The good thing about not having an actual birthday is, one gets to pick one. And Crowley picked today to make it Aziraphale's birthday. The latter just doesn't know yet.

Words: 1,123

Rating: General

Relationship: Crowley / Aziraphale

Status: Finished

Warnings: No Warnings

Tags: Crowley is a Sweetheart, Aziraphale knows, Slice of Life, Shippy Gen, Gift Giving

Click here to read on AO3

[phyriaxi]

the girlfriends

[mndvx]

TARON EGERTON in CARRY-ON (December 13 2024) dir. Jaume Collet-Serra

[gingermintpepper]

“Pallas Athena,” he greets softly. There is no affection in his voice, barely any intonation save for stiff, long-practiced neutrality. He continues wringing the water from his hair like she’s not intruding upon the sanctity of his purification ritual, “Have you already had your fill of victory?” 

His calmness is… off-putting. Unnatural. Like the stillness of the sky before a horrible storm. She’s grown accustomed to his icy silences, the dark looks thrown when their father isn’t watching, the barely restrained disgust when he’s forced to hear her speak of her tactics and methods for obtaining unquestioned victory. She knows Apollo isn’t weak-stomached - of all their kin, he is perhaps the most practiced in death - but he is not a warrior. He finds no glory in death-bringing, no meaning in the intricacy of war-work. For him, it is a job, a task that must be completed for the continued equilibrium of the mortal world. It means he can still be hurt by war’s savagery. And he had been hurt. Repeatedly. She had personally seen to it. No matter how good he was at his work, Phoebus Apollo was still an emotional creature. Not weak-stomached perhaps, but still soft. Tender. 

“I’ve something important to discuss.” 

He’s languid when he unpins the remaining length of his hair. It falls in heavy, swirling waves, rich gold which threatens to drag upon the ground if he hadn’t deftly grabbed the ends and tied them round his thigh. “I know you have little concept of ceremony but this is a bit ridiculous don’t you think?”

His dark hand reaches for one of the vases of oil stacked neatly on a little jut of rock that acts as a ledge. Athena intercepts him, standing a little taller to convey her graveness. “It’s very important. I only need a moment of your time.” 

She expects him to sigh, to cross his arms petulantly over his thin chest and complain that the war is over and so is her access to him every hour of every day. She expects to have to remind him that the battle isn’t finished ‘til the Acheans have vacated Trojan soil, to coax him from the little solitary cave of mourning he’s obviously built himself so he can see his job to its total completion. 

Instead, she gets another look. Calm. Dark. Horrible.

Apollo does not sigh, but it is a very near thing. “A moment and nothing more.” 

“The Acheans will begin their preparations to return soon,” she takes hold of the vase and carefully passes it to him. It smells saccharine, like rosewater or something similar. Like perfume to hide the stench of death. “I need your word that you will not hinder them on their journeys.” 

Their fingers brush as Apollo accepts her offering. It’s always odd the way his warmth radiates past all logical barriers. Athena can feel the chill of the water alongside the heat of his fingertips. Somehow, it is the cold that lingers despite all his warmth. “I do not make impossible promises, Athena. I want Neoptolemus,” he says. She stops as though struck. “The rest will have my blessing if they but ask.” 

“Phoebus— “

His eyes are like congealed blood when he looks at her, dark and tar-like upon an altar’s surface. “I want Neoptolemus. And I will have him.” 

How similar his tone has become to Father’s in these long years acting as his mouthpiece! Though his words are soft, the finality in his voice brooks no argument. How easy it is for her heart to soar at the prospect of a fight. Her warrior’s mien shutters all her feelings away like she’d never taken her helmet off. Her clawed finger pokes harshly into his chest, he’s marble hard under her touch. “You already had Achilles. You’ve no right to his son.” 

She regrets the words the moment they leave her lips. A stupid mistake; a feint when she should have dodged altogether. 

Apollo’s face goes slack and still. Serene, one would say, if they were a fool who had never before seen the shape of his wrath. He stands to his full height, broad shouldered, the flickering ends of his hair the only signifier of his displeasure, “Who said a thing about Achilles?” She huffs but does not answer, unsure of where his anger lies if not at the foot of Pelides. “Polites. Eurypylus. Priam. Helenus’ jailor. Andromache’s conqueror. If it weren’t Odysseus’ lot, Neoptolemus would have thrown Scamandrius from the tops of the balcony himself. What other reasons do I need?”

[pinkd3mon]

Kirby deals with existential crisis and Bandana is a good friend

[saccstry]

moldy!

[seokmatthewz]

SEOK MATTHEW ✧ SWEAT

[void-writing]

Escape from Flower Fruit Mountain

"What can you do? You were all trapped. Either you all die in Peng’s hands or the celestial flames burn you all alive. You never should’ve sent your brothers inside. There’s no exit, no - wait.

There was a way out. The transportation circle in your room you never quite got to erasing."

Chapter 15 of "Queen of the Mountain" by @centuryberry

[sugarpasteltmnt]

FRIDAY

[jedislight]

Same energy

[starcleere]

Me: *Playing the Kaidan Revoiced romance questline, chilling*

Myriah: *speaks*

Me, shooting up from my chair: GABRIELLE???

[soursherbat]

home alone after midnight

... but are you really alone?

version with details revealed below:

[ectolights]

Most embarrassing thing I've ever done at work

So I work at a museum. My main job is to walk around the various floors and be available for guests to ask questions. I was super tired today and the museum wasn't busy, so I was having a hard time staying awake. So much so that I literally started sleepwalking around the floor... and then I walked smack dab into the metal railing around one of the exhibits. Whacked myself right in the gut. Bent over double like a cartoon character. Bruised my torso and my ego. I'm just thankful it happened in one of the few spots that's off camera and that there weren't any witnesses

[ask-a-silvy]

It was about time Piko tried to do some cards. Figured they would at least get one game off. Though Piko was not amazing at cards, she could least do a decent poker or black jack hand. Naturally, the braixen caught her eye. "Say, would you be down for a game of cards? I mainly know black jack, or poker, would either be okay?"

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna cheerfully sticking out her tongue with her eyes closed and holding the note in question. She's shown from the shins up and directly facing the viewer. Shauna's appearance is as described here. End ID ]

Shauna: [There's something really, really important I need to deliver! Mother would get mad if I take any longer to deliver it.]

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Shauna similar to the previous image. She's cheerfully sticking out her tongue and holding the note in question. End ID ]

[ritasanderson]

Loid, Drusus and Cavalero should unite with their dislike for Parvos