#revel house

[howlingday]

RWBY DUST FIGHT (FINALE)

Neptune: No... YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE NERFED! WHY AM I NOT WINNING?!

Jaune: NO NERF CAN STOP THE COMMAND GRAB~!

Neptune: (Charges) I'M NOT GOING TO LOSE THIS BRACKET-!

Jaune: (Command Grabs)

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Blake: You've gone soft. Where's your criminal spirit?!

Velvet: D-Does pirating anime for Neptune count as criminal spirit?

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Sun: Sorry, pal, but you ain't reaching me from all the way over there~!

Ironwood: (Readies Due Process) Oh, word, no- (Launches self, Bashes Sun)

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Velvet: Mister Qrow! You should be raising your children!

Ruby: Yeah, Uncle Qrow! I miss you~!

Qrow: (HOOONK... SHMEEMEEMEEMEE)

Raven: SHOW ME YOUR FIGHTING SPIRIT~! (Unleashes Super)

Qrow: SEMBLANCE, DON'T FAIL ME NOW~! (Unleashes Super)

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May: (Steps out from her invisibility)

Nora: Work it, girl~! Fucking slay, bitch~! (Sighs) Why the fuck don't we hang out more~?

May: (Chuckles) We love a girl's girl~.

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Neptune: Ha ha~! I'm not losing to a mouse-

Somewhat: BITCH! Check the scoreboard! I've CAUGHT bodies!

Somewhat: JUNIPER, FUCK HIS ASS UP~!

Neptune: (Trampled by jackalope)

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Qrow: Whoever loses here has to buy Ruby a new DS5-

Raven: WHAT?! She broke it already?!

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Yang: Unlike you, I take high execution-

Jaune: BLAH, BLAH, BLAH! UNGA BUNGA~! I have Command Grabs and a dream~!

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Grimm Hound: TOM... CAT... DON'T... SCARE... THIS... DOG...

Qrow: I'm more of a cat person.

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Raven: Look, why aren't you going to Qrow with your math homework?

Ruby: I TRIED AND HE YELLED AT ME!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ruby: Uncle Qrooow~! (Crying) This question is too hard~!

Qrow: Five times two is ten, Ruby! IT'S FUCKING TEN!

Ruby: STOP YELLING AT ME!

Weiss: Professor Branwen?

Qrow: WHAT?! (Looks down)

Nora: (Drawing dicks on the blackboard, Stops) ...Oooh, shit. My bad, bruh. Were you done using this?

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Ghira: ...Sienna, what exactly did you mean by, "Until the room stank"?

Sienna: Why don't we open this hunny-pack and find out, baby~?

AY YO~!

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Ruby: Pfft! Patched in less than a week? Could never happen to me~!

Weiss: Oh, but you see...

Weiss: I STILL HAVE THE BEST MOVE IN THE GAME.

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Velvet: Ruby! Are you bullying Weiss?!

Ruby: Okay, ROOSTER TEETH NEEDS TO NERF SNITCHING NEXT SEASON!

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Neptune: C'MON, MAN! YOU JUST COMMAND GRABBED ME AT THE START OF THE POST! PLEASE, NOOOO

BRRRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING~!

Jaune: (Looks at watch) Welp! Time to clock out~! (Flies away)

Neptune: Wait... I win?! Ha! I guess I'm the strongest (Shoulder grabbed) Ah...

[thebeyondcoolest]

A REVEL HOUSE production

Join My Discord Server

[malinaa]

if i think about the hunger games in peeta's perspective i WILL start sobbing

[prlssprfctn]

Jason Todd is anxious about decorating places he lives at.

It sounds funny, absolutely ridiculous, but it is true, and this feeling is there, always sitting deep inside his chest, since he was a little child.

His old room in the Manor is... simple, almost too plain. He knows that he can do with it whatever he wants (Bruce told him so, and Alfred even suggested helping him with decorations if needed; he also saw Dick's room, and it was very... him), but he can't.

What is the use of decorating it if he is not sure, will he leave it or not? What if he gets kicked out tomorrow? He never knows. So, why bother?

He keeps it simple. One poster of metal rock group, one photo frame, and a bunch of books that technically don't belong to him. And he hides an "escape bag" under his bed, of course.

Once he dies, there is very little indication whose exactly room it was.

Then, Jason is alive again, and there is no place for him to live at all. He has a room in League of Assassins that is completely empty, excluding his designs of Red Hood suit and some stalking material on Bruce, but he is a guest here, of course.

And when he is back in Gotham, his main apartment just... exists.

He never knows what will happen tomorrow.

It continues like this until he is once undercover with Roy. They need to rent a house together for a whole month — just thirty day, nothing more, nothing less — and Roy? Roy starts decorating his part of the room.

Obviously, it is nothing too grand, nothing too rich or huge, just some stuff he finds around and thinks it fits. It looks like Roy, too.

And Jason is... flabbergasted.

'You know we are leaving in a month, right? Why are you doing this?' He asks, glancing at him from the corner of his eye, pretending that this doesn't somehow shatter his whole perspective of life.

'Month or not, I want to feel like at home, duh? Who cares, honestly?'

It feels stupidly... smart. Obvious. But exactly what Jason needed to hear, maybe.

When they finish with the mission and Jason is back in Gotham, he starts slowly thinking about it more.

His attempts to decorate are awkward at first. What is supposed to fit him? How should he know what kind of decors he likes, even? How would he know where to place these things? He is not sure.

And then, there is another struggle. He feels anxious over actually changing anything in there. He knows that it is his place. He pays for it. He owns it. But there is a ridiculous, childish-like fear of being kicked out somehow. Or a irritation of ruining something by the accident, something that cost money.

But he still tries.

He starts with cutting off some printed stuff that he likes, sticking them on the wall. Then he starts bringing some thrifted furniture for decoration — not something he needs for living, just beautiful stuff. Vases. Old desks he chooses to stock books on. Old vinyl player. Plants.

Slowly, but surely, the place begins to feel like home. Like something he wants to return to — not because he is tired after patrols, but because it is cosy.

And, yes, he still is not sure if he returns in this place tomorrow, but-

But at least, it is his.

[revel-arts]

"I must protect Edelgard"

[thankstothe]

[mariocki]

RIP Jean Marsh (1.7.1934 - 13.4.2025)

"Well, I’d been friends with Eileen [Atkins] for six or seven years when we started talking about it. We came from the same background, a working-class background, and we were thinking idly about trying to create something, maybe a television series, maybe a film, we weren’t quite sure. And the idea gelled through two different experiences: one was watching The Forsyte Saga, that was made sometime in the '60s, and we thought, 'Well, that’s all really wonderful, but who washed the clothes? Who ironed them? Who’s cleaning the boots? Who’s doing all the work?' And we thought, 'Gosh, it’s so unfair you never see the real workers.' That was one seed. We had chips on our shoulders. And then Eileen found a photograph of her mother with a group of servants standing by a horse-drawn bus for a servants’ outing, so we thought, 'Let’s write about downstairs people.'"

"I get a residual for the idea [for Upstairs, Downstairs] as much as I get a residual for the acting. It's a very low fee. I think I got something like $100 an episode initially for the idea, and my royalty is based on that rate. I've got a saying: 'If it had been made in America I'd be Mary Tyler Moore. As it is, I'm Mary Tyler Less.'"

[the-jonestown-holotape]

[catofoldstones]

the Ghost in Harrenhal

[smokestarrules]

“it’s officially been four years since The Owl House aired” what do you MEAN

[raychleadele]

Probably a weird take, but reading House of Leaves has been an experience very similar to my first time reading A Series of Unfortunate Events.

[howlingday]

RWBY DUST FGHT

aka "What If RWBY had a fighting game"

Ozpin: I only need to hit you twice to destroy you~.

Neptune: HOW THE FUCK IS THIS A FAIR MATCHUP?!

Ozpin: (Blinks, Shirtless)

Neptune: (Flying) WHY IS HE SHIRTLEEESS~?!

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Ren: Yang, why is Nora telling me babies are born out of your ass!

Yang: Wh-What was I supposed to tell her?! I panicked!

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Ruby: Hey, hagmaxxer~! How are you able to bag a Lvl 10 Gyatt? You got that Skibidi Rizz, don't'cha? Dubba-yu, Granny-Pants~!

Yang: Okay, you are banned from using Click-Clock!

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Blake: Don't worry, babe~. I'll be gentle~.

Sun: Th-Then why do you have that rope?

Blake: C'MERE-

Sun: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

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Ozpin: I only need to hit you twice to destroy you~.

Jaune: Yeah, just try and command grab this, because I can do the same!

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Pyrrha: Looking slay today, Weiss~. U-Um... Did I say that right?

Weiss: You sure did, babe~! And they say two bad bitches can't co-exist?

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Neptune: Please don't put me against someone who'll delete my HP in two seconds!

Oscar: Nothing personal, kid.

Neptune: (One-Hit KO) AGHAGHAAAAAAA

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Ghira: Let's have good spar, Sienna~!

Sienna: I WANT YOU JUMP-ROPING BUTT-NAKED RIGHT IN MY FACE SO I CAN SEE THAT BELLABOOTY BOUNCE WITH MAXIMUM EFFICIENCY. NOT GONNA LIE I WANT THAT

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Winter: Sister, why does Qrow point at my feet and say "For free?"

Weiss: Not gonna lie, sister, but he got a point. We gotta get your money up!

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Yang: DID YOU TELL MY SISTER TO SELL FEET PICS ONLINE?!

Weiss: HEY! HER PEDI ON GAME, BITCH!

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Neptune: Okay! This time for sure victory is mi-

Jaune: Hey, buddy~! C'mere~! Come give me a hug~!

Neptune: NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!

Jaune: Totally not gonna command grab-

Neptune: STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME (Command grab'd) DAI JO BUUUUUUUUU

[thebeyondcoolest]

Mii Mii and Cee Cee Play Street Fighter!

Join My Discord Server

[dr-handballslector]

I always act surprised when a plot twist occurs in a show I’ve watched 4 times and haven’t been super excited (or dreading) since the season started.

Plot twist: Happens

Me without fail: 🤯

[revel-arts]

It's your girl's Birthday!!

[small-z24]

One-Shot: A Poet's Discovery

Summary: 

Azriel finds Y/N’s journal filled with heartfelt poetry about a mysterious man, sparking jealousy and curiosity. As he tries to uncover the identity of her muse, Cassian's playful teasing leads him to a surprising revelation that could change everything.

Word Count: 976

Warnings: None

Azriel prowled the halls of the House of Wind, shadows whispering around him. He had been tasked with delivering a message to Y/N, a priestess living in the library. Rescued by Rhysand and Azriel from a brutal attack on her church, Y/N had since found solace and purpose among the books and scrolls. As he approached her room, he noticed the door slightly ajar. He hesitated for a moment before deciding to knock, but the soft sound of rustling paper caught his attention.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he peeked inside. Y/N’s room was a mess of papers and books, but one particular journal lay open on her desk, its pages filled with delicate handwriting. Azriel knew he shouldn’t invade her privacy, but the temptation was too strong. He stepped inside and picked up the journal.

His eyes skimmed over the lines of poetry, his heart pounding as he realized the words were filled with longing and admiration for someone. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy, wondering who had captured Y/N’s heart so completely.

His eyes, dark as the night, hold secrets I wish to unravel. His touch, gentle yet strong, leaves me breathless with desire. In his presence, I am whole, yet shattered by the distance between us.

Azriel’s jaw tightened. Who was this man she wrote about? He continued reading, the poetry becoming more intense with each line.

Oh, how I long for his embrace, to feel his shadows wrap around me, to be lost in his world. He is my night, my stars, my everything.

Azriel’s mind raced. Shadows? Stars? Could it be... No, it couldn’t. He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. It had to be someone else. But the jealousy gnawed at him, making his shadows swirl restlessly.

“What are you doing?” Cassian’s voice broke the silence, startling Azriel.

Azriel quickly shut the journal and turned to see Cassian leaning against the doorframe, a wide grin on his face. “Nothing,” Azriel muttered, trying to compose himself.

Cassian’s grin widened. “Nothing, huh? You look like you’ve just read something scandalous.”

Azriel glared at him, but Cassian’s teasing expression didn’t waver. “It’s none of your business.”

Cassian stepped into the room, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, but it is. You’re my brother, and seeing you all flustered is my favorite pastime. So, what did you find?”

Azriel sighed, knowing there was no escaping Cassian’s curiosity. “It’s Y/N’s journal. She’s written poetry about someone she’s clearly infatuated with.”

Cassian raised an eyebrow. “And you’re jealous because...?”

“I’m not jealous,” Azriel snapped, but the words lacked conviction.

Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. “Sure, you’re not. Let me see.”

Azriel reluctantly handed over the journal, and Cassian began to read. As he reached the parts about the shadows and stars, his grin grew even wider. “Oh, this is gold. She’s talking about you, you idiot!”

Azriel frowned, feeling a flicker of hope. “What makes you so sure?”

Cassian rolled his eyes. “Shadows, stars, night—who else fits that description? She’s smitten with you, and you’re too dense to see it.”

Azriel’s heart raced as the realization sank in. “You really think it’s me?”

Cassian laughed again, shaking his head. “Az, you’re supposed to be the smart one. Yes, it’s you. And now you have to do something about it.”

Azriel felt a mix of relief and panic. “But what if I’m wrong? What if she doesn’t feel that way?”

Cassian smirked, handing back the journal. “There’s only one way to find out. Talk to her. And maybe, just maybe, stop being so broody all the time.”

Azriel sighed, glancing down at the journal. “You make it sound so easy.”

Cassian shrugged, heading for the door. “It is. Now go, before I start writing poetry about how hopeless you are.”

Left alone in Y/N’s room, Azriel took a deep breath. Cassian was right. He needed to talk to her, to find out the truth. He couldn’t let jealousy and doubt control him.

Gathering his courage, he left the room and went in search of Y/N. He found her in the library, surrounded by books, her expression peaceful as she read. She looked up as he approached, a smile spreading across her face.

“Azriel,” she greeted him warmly. “What brings you here?”

He hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside her. “I found your journal,” he admitted, watching her expression closely.

Her eyes widened, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “You read it?”

He nodded, feeling his heart pound in his chest. “Yes. And I need to know... the poetry. Is it about me?”

Y/N’s blush deepened, but she met his gaze, her eyes filled with vulnerability. “Yes, Azriel. It’s about you.”

Relief and joy washed over him, and he couldn’t help but smile. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

She looked at him, her expression a mix of hope and uncertainty. “You were?”

He reached out, taking her hand in his. “Yes. Because I feel the same way, Y/N. I’ve just been too blind to see it.”

Her smile brightened, and she squeezed his hand. “Then we’re both idiots.”

Azriel laughed softly, leaning in to kiss her gently. “I can live with that.”

As they sat together in the library, surrounded by the quiet rustle of pages and the soft glow of lanterns, Azriel felt a sense of peace and happiness he hadn’t known in a long time. Cassian’s teasing might have been annoying, but it had led him to the truth. And for that, he was grateful.

And somewhere in the House of Wind, Cassian was probably writing his own poetry about how hopelessly romantic Azriel could be. But for now, Azriel didn’t care. He had found his light in the darkness, and that was all that mattered.