#this is the canon to my default verse

[winterreigned]

@mvndrvke asked: “You didn’t deserve that. Nobody deserves that.” rickon

𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓼𝓲𝓫𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓷 𝓼𝓸 𝓯𝓪𝓼𝓽, and she was not there to bare witness to it. the last time sansa saw her youngest brother, he was a mere pup, now this stark has evolved to a wolf. they often say children grow in the blink of an eye, though she was not even present to blink herself. the years were stripped of them, the time to bond and create a dynamic of their own given to the hands of captors, enemies and traitors. she hardly knows the young man before her, and cannot deny the twisting in her chest when grappling with this fact.

most of all, the challenge she faces, is acknowledging young rickon to be more than that. he is no longer bran's shadow, no longer attached to their mother's waist. there is no being asked to look over the baby, to fuss and care for. now, here he is, providing the comfort she, as eldest sister, should be offering him.

❝ those are burdens you need not bare. ❞ sansa replies, a soft expression on her face. he is a man now, though she struggles with this. she cannot baby him, he has experienced his own bout with hardship, yet all the same the instinct to protect and care does not vanish like the years lost between them. [ i look at you, brother, and my heart bursts. i look to you and i see robb, i see our mother. tully blue eyes, auburn locks. you are a spitting image to me, and i cannot bare it. it reminds me of what we have lost, what we could have had. yet, all the same, it provides me a deep comfort. we are home, we are together, we will reclaim what has been lost for our family once more. ]

❝ you must forgive me, rickon, for this is all bittersweet. i mourn for the time lost, and celebrate all at once. for so long i grieved you, and now here we are, and you're a man - ❞ there's a rarely delicate smile to grace the now stoic fixture that is sansa stark's face. she cuts herself off briefly, deciding for a better path to arrive on. ❝ mother and father would be proud. ❞

[eriswrites]

all i’m saying is … you should let me write my kristine froseth fc muse in her criminal verse against a dev patel fc with like ... a bonnie & clyde type of plot and perhaps they're part of a heist group and they betray said group and run off in a getaway car (or boat, or plane, i'm not picky). idk. or maybe he was a detective trying to figure out who was involved in various heists and in trying to find a way to incriminate her he falls in love instead and he gets involved.

[trickstercaptain]

as ever it's always so weird to me to even think about a younger version of jack in a modern verse that is set post-social media/smartphone technology because, even in a verse where he grew up with it, i still don't think jack has any interest in that sort of stuff? he doesn't watch much tv, he doesn't really play video games, i reckon the smartphone he owns is pretty basic because he doesn't use half of the stuff that is on there. as vain and self-absorbed as he is, he's not insecure enough about his appearance to have an insta account and need the validation that it brings. i imagine the only social media presence he has aside from whatsapp is a twitter and perhaps a tiktok account because both of those appeal to his need to argue with strangers on the internet and his adhd brain respectively lmao

[lotusgrieved]

everytime i revisit my verses for alma, i'm reminded that i am forever torn between being devastated or delusional 😭

[voidfragments]

sometimes i have to remind myself that tianwu is not actually technically a star rail muse

[spring-lxcked]

Happy pride, the serial killer in the rabbit suit is queer. In all seriousness, I said I was going to write this headcanon awhile ago but I'm just getting around to it. Also: reminder that pansexual is an older term than people often think. Still, William usually defaults to "queer" on the occasion he's openly talking about his orientation.

William realized he was queer/pansexual when he was 15. It's the usual story: he developed an undeniable crush on a boy at school, but didn't pursue it. Obviously, he had grown up in a very unaccepting time and this wasn't something he was open about. His own feelings about it were initially mixed (a result of being raised in such a homophobic society), but by the time he left for university in America, he was neutral on his own queerness. It was simply a fact about himself. In university he explored his sexuality thoroughly regardless of gender, both casually and in very brief relationships. While he still obviously kept his orientation private from most people, he did find some other members of the community he could talk to openly. Finding out that William was queer in university wouldn't have been that hard, but afterward he starts being much, much more careful. Without getting into it, I think we all know that he couldn't afford to be outed with the type of business he was wanting to open. He (happily) marries and feels content that there's no way his orientation comes out. He does not and will not tell his wife about his queerness by default. Then the divorce happens, he's left with custody of three young kids, and dating just isn't his priority, regardless of gender. Still, William absolutely would take the risk of dating a man and even disclosing this to his kids (if they're old enough to keep quiet about it) if he really, really liked someone and intended the relationship to be lifelong. William generally doesn't care if his kids are queer, but his borderline obsession with keeping them safe (especially post-CC's death) can rear its head if they are openly queer. This is absolutely the part where he drops the bombshell of also being queer (if they don't already know) as a way to prove he has a "fair argument" about safety/homophobia. You might expect his reservation to be about the "optics" of him having a queer kid, but by this point (assuming his kid is coming out as a teen), he is actively caring less and less about that. NOTE: In verses where William is lowkey obsessed with head over heels for Henry (which, lbr, can be pretty much from university onwards lmao), he is seemingly much more likely to hint at his orientation, although this is only around Henry. Of course, he's more likely to open up about it/flirt if he thinks the feelings are mutual OR if Henry's queer as well (and Will knows). He also just generally talks about Henry in a way that is. . . potentially telling. Still, he'll claim this is just admiration, which is half true.

[bravevolunteer]

one day i will finally add one of those “michael helping with the murders/remnant experiments” aus

[ferinehuntressmoved]

[ FIVE GLANCES ]  send for five times the receiver watched the sender and the one time the receiver does something about it.  - Caitlyn & Vi

It would not do well for Pink to wander around in her inmate outfit. Besides, she no longer was an inmate of Stillwater (and Caitlyn would ensure that). She needed her help, and in turn, for her help, Pink would have her freedom. All she wanted was support to find out the information on Silco, and she hoped that Pink would help her in some way. She glanced down at the new clothes she had picked up, her hand pressing against the off-white top, slightly tracing the gold emblem along the top of it. The dark blue sleeves would be breathable, as she glanced up toward Pink. “Here, this is better than that old outfit. You can change in here and then we can head outside,” Caitlyn offered. Pink didn’t say anything. She hadn’t said much since they left Stillwater. She wondered what went on within the mind of the former inmate. Thinking of running, perhaps? Or perhaps she questioned Caitlyn’s motives. Caitlyn wasn’t sure, but she did at least want to try to get her into something that wasn’t from the prison.

While Pink changed in the changing room of the shop, Caitlyn’s foot tapped against the ground as the sun was finally coming over the horizon. She still hadn’t slept since yesterday, as she yawned slightly and waited patiently. She had paid the shop owner extra for the clothing, seeing a little apprehensive at the sight of a Stillwater inmate suit, but Caitlyn ensured he would be fine.

Whatever Pink had on her mind, she wasn’t acting out. Pink stood awkwardly out of her element, a tiger without her strips. With the new clothes in hand, Pink changed in teh changing room while Caitlyn tapped her finger against her palm. A few minutes later and a few bumps against the wall and then Pink emerged. The click of the door caused Caitlyn to turn around and examine Pink, who had ripped off the sleeves of her shirt. “You tore them off?” Pink shrugged, placing the leftover clothing into her hands, and stepped out the door. She had yet to say any words to Caitlyn, not even a full sentence yet since the bars of her cage were opened when the former enforcer released her. A sigh left her lips as she offered the material back to the shopkeeper. “Hopefully you can use it for another outfit. I don’t want to throw it away,” Caitlyn smiled, and the keeper nodded, though still looked a little baffled.

Twisting around, Caitlyn caught up with Pink, holding her journal in her hand and the tickets sticking out of her booklet. A part of her worried that Pink had decided to leave completely, yet instead she stood at the edge of the cliff, peering down into the fissures where the Undercity existed. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came from her vocal box. Instead, all she could do was admire Pink for a moment. It wasn’t anything extravagant All Pink did was stand like a solid oak, unwavering in the breeze. However, she lifted her head and her eyes closed, and Caitlyn could see the deep breath suck into her body and fill her full of the first breath of fresh free air. It’s the first time Pink must have had the spread of warm sunlight on her flesh, the fleeting breeze through her hair. Caitlyn didn’t want to disrupt the moment, seeing the tension lower from her shoulders and even her palms opened up and fingers relaxed. How could Caitlyn take this from her? This freedom, the way she looked more in her feet than when she was bound to that cage in Stillwater.

Yet, despite it, Caitlyn cleared her throat and lifted the tickets to speak once more. A hint of guilt but knowing they had to get moving.

  Lungs burned as if fire heated a forge within them. She pressed her head back against the wall, hands shaking from an overload of information. The slithering tension of knowledge slipped through her mind, tangling around her throat and choking her out. She knew Silco was the trouble of the Undercity, but she had not expected these monstrous creatures. No, that was a lie. She knew something existed. Something had killed Grayson, and it was not an animal. Now she knew. She watched the way their shimmering purple eyes burned into the back of her head, how their sharp claws echoed in the alley as they ran. She grabbed Vi, knowing what was happening. “We have to move!” She remembered screaming, taking Vi in the opposite direction. They were being herded, forced down the route of death. Her hounds did it all the time when she went hunting, forcing an animal to a certain area so she could take the killer shot.

Tunnel vision clouded her mind as she pace in the room. Feet clicking against the ground as she raised her hands up and back down, muttered to herself. “That was a flushing hound. How the hell did he do that? How did he make them?” Caitlyn's restless hands brushed against her palm, and her feathers puffed out nervously, making her shoulders seem bigger. That meant she had to keep an eye out for the bloodhounds next. He probably used the pointer hounds to find them in the first place when his other lackeys couldn’t find them.

“shit shit shit,” Caitlyn muttered before suddenly hands grabbed her upper arms and her eyes blinked a few times looking at Vi. “Hey, breathe. What’s going on in that mind of yours? What happened back there?” Vi questioned, trying to get Caitlyn to focus as she opened her mouth. “Hounds, hunting hounds. He got, he’s got them.” Caitlyn stumbled over her words, finding things difficult to process into verbal communication. Firm hands grabbed her shoulders as Caitlyn flinched from the pressure on her burns and Vi encouraged Caitlyn to sit. “Here, drink this. Easy now, breath,” Fingers reached up to take the bottle, shaking as she opened up the top to take a sip of the water, only to chug half of it instead. Vi settled down next to her and unwrap her hand wraps as Caitlyn focused on that instead.

The words were not lost to her; she had said those nearly a week ago after helping Vi deal with the infusion of shimmer into her system to heal her. It snapped her out of her thoughts and focused on her hands. Tilting her head, wide eyes watched as each wrap twisted away from her arms, revealing more of her tattoo and the callouses upon the base of her hand. Battered knuckles glistened, yet no blood or bruises on them. Despite the massive impacts against stone and metal, a normal human’s hand would have been a bloody pulp. Vi’s fist could take out a metal framework and not exhibit a hint of damage. Caitlyn’s curiosity allowed her mind to focus, taking these thoughts rather than the panicked anxiety of before. Blue eyes finally pulled away, her fingers still tapping the water bottle as she passed it back over.

“Okay, this is going to take a bit to explain, and we have to lie low for now. What we are doing, it just went from bad… to worse. We’re in trouble,…” Caitlyn said, glancing at Vi in fear. With Caitlyn's mind in tact once more, she focused on the process of hound hunt explanation to Vi.

  After they placed the misunderstanding behind them, Caitlyn settled down on a bench. Caitlyn knew she didn’t belong, but she marveled at a group of kids chased a couple of green-colored bugs floating in the air. She had to ask Vi what those were later. One of them settled on her finger as she smiled, a little coo toward the small green bug. “Aren’t you cute? We have nothing like you in Piltover,” she whispered, as the wings fluttered before flying off. The bug flittered upward, being whizzed by others on these ingenious hoverboards. Her head flicked to the right, looking at the way the device worked, the buzz of energy as it whirled around the tree, leaving an odd green trail behind it. Not smoke, but like some kind of luminous light, perhaps a bit of air that reacts to the chemicals of the hoverboards? Caitlyn wouldn’t mind figuring out how they worked, just like she had an interest in airships.

The world of this place was so unique, a place thriving despite the chaotic turmoil of Silco’s rule. The tree had a symbolic view of how Ekko allowed this place to thrive and the people the seeds of its endeavor. Truly a spectacular view of strength and perseverance despite everything that happened.

Her eyes followed a hoverboard, only to catch sight of Vi up in the tree next to Ekko. Without realizing it, her lips curled up into a smile, and watched Vi with a warmth in her heart. This was a new feeling that had developed over the last month, sparking joy whenever she looked at Vi and knowing she wanted to keep her happy. Just then, Vi let out a laugh, her sharp fangs glistening against the light as she punched Ekko in the shoulder. Ekko, too, smiled. The way they interacted next to each other made her think of Jayce. A brother despite having no blood relations. It didn’t matter whether blood connected each other. When that connection developed, no amount of time can break it. To think, just a month ago, the woman had a shadowed fever over her face and eyes of death. A part of her surviving with no other option in life but to survive. Perhaps Vi would see that here.

It wasn’t enough to just live; Vi needed to thrive. She needed to find her heart. Fingers reached up, grasping her chest as her heart thumped several times faster, and she glanced away. “I’ve never felt this before,” she whispered to herself. Vi hugged Ekko tightly and playfully rubbed his head, even though he seemed annoyed. Like a little brother getting his hair ruffled. Once more, Caitlyn’s heart warmed and smiled at the memory. This is what she wanted for Vi; to be happy, no matter where she went, Vi deserved it.

That’s when her face lowered down as she took a breath. She would have to let her go, then. An icy chill ran over her arms as she flicked her eyes at her hands. Whatever this feeling was, she didn’t want to lose it; but she knew the best thing for Vi would be to find her place. No matter where that took Vi, Caitlyn would support it.

Even if it meant she would no longer be in her life.

  When Caitlyn let Vi go, she didn’t expect to see her again. It had been goodbye, even if no verbal words left her lips. And yet, when everything happened and Caitlyn could barely breathe and see past the billowing smoke of death and ruin; there was Vi in front of her. Eyes filled with concern, speaking, and yet Caitlyn could hear a word. She would have insisted that Vi continue to find her sister, only to find out Jinx was there on the bridge; a dangerous glint of betrayal and threat in her eyes. Why? Caitlyn had yet to understand what she had done besides being a former enforcer. Perhaps that was it. That was the only reason? She couldn't make sense of anything on the bridge, struggling to focus while her ears bled and rang and her vision blurred. All she could do was hold on to Vi tightly.

They had a meeting with the council in a week, and Caitlyn had to take the time to heal and recover. Her father’s medicine helped her recover relatively quickly. A few days already and she could hear better. The ringing would echo painfully, but at least she could still process words. Bandages wrapped over her wounds, the only serious one being her leg, where the shrapnel didn’t just cut but fully embedded and the bullet wound on her thigh. It would heal in due time. Not as quickly as Shimmer would, but in a few weeks she would mend.

Caitlyn returned from a trip to get some water, limping slightly on her sore leg as she returned to her room. The darkness hovered except for the little dim lights around her four-post bed. The sheer curtains covered the bed as she reached over to pull them apart. There in her gigantic bed rested Vi. She had found her a large shirt (none of her clothes would fit Vi) that she could sleep in, and a pair of loose-fitting shorts for comfort. They didn’t have a soft bed like this for the month they were in the Undercity. Perhaps she never had a soft bed, and that troubled Caitlyn. Yet now, peace enveloped the woman and her eyes closed. No one would believe her, that someone named Pink, a woman who had murdered and killed to survive, could look so comfortable. Laying on her belly, her arms underneath her head. Carefully, Caitlyn tucked her legs back underneath the blanket. fingers grasp the purple blanket and pull it up over Vi’s shoulder, wanting to keep her warm and comfortable.

Eyes scanned over her as she reached up with her hand to caress her cheek. “you’ve suffered so much,” she whispered, brushing Vi’s hair out of her face. Vi purred as Caitlyn whisked her hand against her back. Vi shifted to bury her face into the crook of her arm in a mighty stretch while still asleep. “You’re so cat-like,” she hushed, unable to hide the way she found the action sweet.

“As long as I’m here, I’ll always be by your side. I don’t want anyone to hurt you again,” words held in reverence, a promise. While she might not always be physically by her side, Caitlyn already knew she would always be there. Whether they were together or apart, her heart would go with her. Caitlyn couldn’t explain it, but it was as if her heart had decided this was the one. There was still so much to learn about her, the history, her past. To comfort and aid. Caitlyn wanted to be there for it all, to hold her, to see her laugh, to make her smile, to hold her if she cried. To fight next to her and to help her. Little did Caitlyn know that her vastaya roots had imprinted upon Vi, that this was the one she latched onto. One day, she would realize this was her mate.

Vi’s heart became her home.

  Rain pitter-pattered against the window and drowned out the outside noise. The room exhibited a comfortable silence save for the crackling candle that released a subtle floral aroma of lavender and violet. Caitlyn struggled to sleep, but she had received some painkillers from her father which ease the burning discomfort of her body. Her father wrapped her shoulders in gauze til the feathers could grow back, and her entire back was one massive patchwork of gauze. Fingers grazed the bruises of her jaw, unable to eat much except for soups; but food wasn’t on her mind. Her hands tangled in the blanket, wishing to get up. It had been a week, but the most she could do was limp with a cane. Blue hair streaked with gray cascaded near her face with fatigued gray bags under her eyes. Despite the amount of sleep she gained, she still struggled to fight off her haunting nightmares. The worst part, the nightmares were memories. Sounds and sights, she desperately tried to block out. The comfort of Vi next to her aided to ease her struggles to drift off to sleep.

Blue eyes peeked up from messing with the blanket to catch Vi’s visage. Typically, she watched her wander outside, scouting the house like a tiger patrolling her territory. Yet tonight, she leaned against the wall, staring out through the window. Her arm pressed up against the wall and her leg slightly bent. Vigilant came to mind. Caitlyn half expected her to take her patrol, even in the rain. None of this had worked out the way they wanted to, and a part of Caitlyn wondered if she had made it worse. Yet if she hadn’t, they would still have Vi locked up in that cold, dark cell. Pink, the caged survivor chained by the wardens. No, she didn’t regret that. She only wished that she had done something better. Something different.

Almost sensing Caitlyn’s battle, Vi turned to gaze at Caitlyn and she realized Vi noticed her watching. “You should be resting,” Vi spoke as she walked toward the bed and pulled back the sheer curtains. “I know, I couldn’t sleep,” Caitlyn spoke, the painkillers finally taking effect. Eyes dipped heavily, and Vi slipped into the bed, sprawled out and opening up her arms. “Come here, this might help,” Caitlyn flicked her eyes toward her to shift to her side. Vi managed to wrap her arm around the bottom of her waist and guide Caitlyn to her chest. Caitlyn snuggled up to Vi’s body and heard the rhythmic heartbeat. “I’m not too heavy?” Caitlyn questioned and Vi let out a chuff of amusement. “You are as light as a feather, Cupcake. Just rest. You’ll be out of this bed in no time,” Vi’s gentle encouragement echoed in her ear. Caitlyn wrapped her arms around her shoulders, and a gentle kiss on the top of her forehead.

How did they end up here? Vi’s arms created a protective barrier as Caitlyn disregarded her question. Broad shoulders and fists that could break the stone. Defiant eyes and powerful feet. Her house no longer held the sense of stability it used to have, but Vi’s arms retained the safety she needed. Between Vi’s warmth and security and the painkillers within her system, it didn’t take long for Caitlyn to drift off to sleep.

[farginen]

i always struggle completing dash games that mention hobbies because for the first few years of adulthood riza legitimately has no hobbies whatsoever. mostly because she's too fucked up from war and overworked so in her free time she would just. come home, get in bed and stare at the ceiling. not even listening to music and reading, she wouldn't have the mental capacity for that.

if she was very anxious and stressed our she may end up cleaning or revising work papers during the night, but even those are limited. and since she didn't develop any harmful copying mechanisms to specifically indulge and past time (she does have harmful copying mechanisms in general, just not recreational ones)

so staring at the ceiling it is.

it does get better when she adopts her dog and starts spending time training him and generally taking care of him. having to walk hayate means she may as well pick up some groceries and since she has bought food she may as well also eat instead of skipping meals so the groceries don't go to waste. it's an improvement.

eventually she gets to a place where she may leave the radio on, and on a very good day she may pick up a book. not with enough frequency to be considered a hobby but hey, it's progress.

at this point she's at a somewhat stable place emotionally / psychologically, although not necessarily happy or positive. but stable enough that she can pick up studying xingese again. i guess this can be considered a hobby, although she sees it as more of an utilitarian thing that can help with work more than sitting down studying languages for pleasure and entertainment like other people would.

it's worth mentioning that at that point she thought doing anything with her life would be pointless since she thought would only be alive for a limited amount of time. she can justify spending time studying a language because it's a skill that has a tangible use at work.

so after the promised day when the original plan to get herself trialed and unalived goes out the window (and i could write a whole rant with ppl insisting they would still get trialed like baby did you not follow the plot question mark. but i'll save that for another day)

that's really the first time she gets to just. have a life.

ofc work is a big part of her plans but it's not a situation so dire where it has to be the *only* thing in her life. her work revolves around legislation, organizing and providing budgeting, logistics and infrastructure. you know. office government work. people in ishval aren't going to receive any more or less help if people working in those projects, like riza, have any semblance of a personal life.

she starts leisurely reading magazines just to get ideas to renovate her childhood home. learning how to sew and tailor her clothes as she spends less time in uniform and needs a personal wardrobe and needs to alter her son's baby clothes when he's born. she starts reading and researching on how to keep certain plants and how to grow a little garden because she now has the space to do so, yadda yadda.

these are still not full on hobbies, but post pd / epilogue is the period when for the first time she experiences working with her hands and putting her dexterity to work with things that aren't fireguns or paperwork.

[mcgilou]

will write them up later but give a like for a starter to get this blog going again

[immobiliter]

i think the thing with jamie though, in all seriousness, is that he's super flexible in terms of setting? the first season of outlander is based in mid 1700s scotland, the second season is based in pre-revolutionary paris, the third season is based in the mid 1700s caribbean ( and i have and will continue to be flexible with that so that he can meet all the pirates ), and anything from s4 onwards fits the revolutionary america era. the show/books are just huge in their historical scope, and the nature of jamie starting in the clan culture of highland scotland (which aligns perfectly with any medieval/fantasy setting), and then shifting to the colonial and seafaring scope of the caribbean and america just means that i have so much space to play around in? so who needs canon compliance/diana putting her characters through unnecessary sexual trauma when you have such a big playground

[obfontri]

i recently read a fic that explained kraglin’s absence during iw/endgame by saying he’d returned to xandar to help rebuild after thanos annihilated them and honestly….. that’s kinda cute

[benevolentgodloki]

Whats the last thing u remember after u died. Besides dying

"The last thing...? Do you mean the first thing that I remember happening after I died or the last thing before I returned? I remember flickers between two places, one of fire; ice; and death, and the other owned by a madman. I awoke in the latter after the 'Blip' and escaped."

[phoenixspirits]

@thecavclry​ said “  hey— look at me.  you can talk to me.  ”

His legs are tangled in the blankets, and it feels restricting, overwhelmingly so, and he kicks them away from himself in a panic. Swings himself upright, tries to ignore the way he’s shaking. Clenches his fists as he stares into the darkness of the room. 

It’s hardly the first time since his return that Gabriel has woken up screaming. It is, however, the first time Katrina’s been here when he has. 

He knows she’s there, even before she speaks, feels the bed shift as she moves. He knows too that she’s not judging him—-- if there’s anyone he can trust not to judge him, it’s Kat. But he can feel the weight of her concern, and maybe there’s something comforting, familiar in that, but there’s too much tension in him, he’s too overwrought right now. 

He doesn’t look up. Shakes his head. “Mmhm. You know I’m not good at that.”

[ferinehuntress]

trying to make these damn tags stick >.>

[spring-lxcked]

not really here ( was going to spend the whole morning writing but things got in the way ), but i have worked on that post abt a potential movie verse. the problem is it's actually way more complicated than i originally thought lmao