#youve earned it!

[astraskylark]

I saw a lot of people bring up that post about loving someone so much you resurrect them but then come back wrong but this is clearly not the case? Falin looks beautiful? She's so pretty and strong and has wings? How is any of this wrong my girl got an upgrade

[takomakiii]

rest in peace

[astralscrivener]

keith and lance are so ride or die for each other it's not even funny

[lazycranberrydoodles]

mxtxtober day 2: rain

@vampirefaun’s fic Thousand Gold Come-And-Go Stew is the canonical Hua Cheng memory loss extra to me so go read it if you haven’t already! I’ve wanted to make fanart of it for a while, and even did a sketch in August (below the cut) but finally got around to it because of today’s prompt :)

the sketch i made in august ↓. the colors on this were already pretty harmonized so i colormapped them a little bit more to use as a palette for my final drawing.

[uhuraborealis]

was talking about expressions and turns of phrase that we use and undertsand what they mean even if we dont know their origin [think 'bite the bullet'/'kick the bucket'/'the whole 9 yards']

and i think money expressions are like that for younger federation folks in trek,

like some kid on tng enterprise is like "i don't get paid enough for this!" when theyre exasperated and deanna trys so hard not to lose it

[beansinjeans]

tlc

[oscconfessions]

She battle on my island till I dream

.

[lovesickeros]

lord its so dark in here the sahara desert of tsaritsa content you are like a shining oasis. your characterisation of her compels me & mihoyo would be hard pressed to top it imo.!! caaaaan i humbly request yr thoughts on her first meeting w a reader of any kind, or maybe even multiple kinds (sagau, sagau god au, isekai, etc) if you so desire...

it really is like a desert here. being the fan of a character we aren't getting until the last damn nation is driving me up a wall but i will persevere bc if nothing else i support morally bankrupt women in media. we r in a severe drought over here but i do my best. unfortunately nothing i say is ever coherent so pull out your translation notes its abt 2 be messy

also this got out of hand but thats bc first meetings w the tsaritsa are tricky to write + a LOT of her characterization lies in deeper exploration then just surface level yknow...NOT A DIG AT YOU this is just my excuse for rambling. gently pats the tsaritsa she can hold so much complexity i do not have the word count to delve into it completely :]

gonna talk cult au for a bit here though because that's 99% of my content. and honestly? she thrives in sub au's of the cult au like villain au + imposter au. it's basically made for her. i mean, early days, the imposter au had been going around for a little while but one of the first few ideas was the Fatui taking reader in so like. it kinda technically actually was. pretty sure cult au Tsaritsa popped up because of the imposter au. a lot of it's writers kinda left though which. man am i getting old or.

anyway.

there isn't much of a chance her first impression is all that positive. at best it's usually neutral, imo, but rarely if ever positive. specifically because i view the Tsaritsa as someone who isn't as fanatical as most of the acolytes typically are towards the creator. she's not exactly going to worship the ground you walk on unlike a certain geo lizard. which is partially why i think she thrives in the sub au's i mentioned.

imposter au, for example. she meets you at your lowest. there's no gaudy extravagance or pampering from the acolytes waiting for you because your own acolytes have turned on you. for all intents and purposes you aren't a "god" at all. which is why i don't think she meshes well with normal cult au reader. the Fatui are made up of outcasts, basically, and imposter au slots right in just perfectly. you're weak, at your lowest, when you meet the Fatui in the imposter au. and the Fatui can help you, too.

a mutual exchange, really. the Tsaritsa sees a tool she can use to one up the rest of the nations and especially Archons, and she has no qualms about you using her and the Fatui in turn. you both want something out of it, after all. whether you just want to be safe from the rest of the acolytes, or you want revenge, or whatever else..she'll give you the power to fulfill it, and she gains the strongest piece on the chessboard when all is said and done.

the best way i can describe the first meeting is "practical", i suppose. she sees an opportunity in you. the ultimate gamble. because if she "saves" you, and you dont trust anyone else because they tried to kill you, well..she holds all the cards, doesn't she?

but the Tsaritsa, imo, is just as capable of being just as fanatical towards you as anyone else. she just won't worship you as the creator. but as yourself? clawing your way back to your divine power and taking back what belongs to you? the Tsaritsa is, to me, a character who's character flourishes in long-term fics more because she changes a LOT between "just met reader" and after having been with reader for some time. she's practically apathetic at the beginning but a lot of her character, in my characterization, shines through LONG after the first meeting.

[beedallo]

[liloinkoink]

today i offer you a dramatic no context scene from the middle of a beauty and the beast au. tomorrow? who knows...

After the seventh time Ren falls asleep in with Martyn in his room, Ren gives him back his knife.

He’d taken it the day they met, along with all the other trinkets Martyn had been collecting since he first stepped foot in the castle. Martyn hadn’t understood the point, then—sure, take back everything he stole, but what is Martyn going to do with a knife? With deadly claws and a long reach, Ren could tear his throat out long before he could do anything with a dagger. Martyn wouldn’t even dream of being able to get close with his stupid knife. Why even bother taking it except to demoralize him even further?

Lying against Ren’s sleeping body, Martyn understands.

It would be easy, is the thing. Ren sleeps light, but he’s adjusted to having Martyn around. He’s no longer cracking his eye open every time Martyn shifts his legs, doesn’t raise his head whenever Martyn touches his side. He wouldn’t see it coming at all, and it would be his own fault for trusting a stranger to brush the dirt and knots out of his hair.

Ren is an idiot. Giving Martyn his dagger back will be the last thing he ever does.

Martyn sits up slowly, listening to the sound of Ren breathing. It doesn’t change, not even as Martyn pushes Ren’s tail out of his lap.

He always sleeps well on the nights Martyn is in here, doesn’t he? Might have something to do with how long he fights falling asleep, trying his best to talk to Martyn for as long as possible. Martyn is starting to recognize the signs of when he’s losing that fight—his eyes close, though he shakes his head to try to keep them open, to keep his gaze on Martyn as long as he can. His words start to trail off, no matter how desperately he struggles to keep up their conversation, until his words turn dreamlike, incomprehensible. The constant wagging of his tail slows to a gentle tap, then stops entirely.

Ren’s insistence on fighting off sleep has never made any sense to Martyn, either, but so few things about Ren do.

Not that it matters now, anyway.

Martyn turns, as slowly as possible, back toward Ren. Still, he doesn’t react, not even a twitch of his ear. He’s fast asleep, has no idea what’s coming for him.

Carefully, without breaking his stare, Martyn reaches for his dagger.

Ren hadn’t thought anything of Martyn setting it on the side table, in the place where the brush usually goes. Hadn’t thought anything of giving it to Martyn at all, the little blade held proudly between his teeth.

Maybe it had been a taunt—Just one of his own fangs had been the size of Martyn’s weapon. Martyn isn’t sure if he believes that, though.

Ren… doesn’t seem the type.

Ren is trusting. Far, far too trusting. Martyn had lasted one day, one day of Ren’s posturing, and the king had folded immediately to following him like a pup. Bringing his meals, assigning him easy tasks, accompanying him throughout the day, convincing him to rest when the sun sinks to the tree line, inviting Martyn to sleep at his side.

Martyn holds the dagger in his right hand, now, knuckles white around the hilt.

For a monster, Ren is naive. His eyes shine with joy as he stands at Martyn’s side, as though that’s something he should be happy about. Didn’t anyone ever tell him? There are things crueler than beasts running around these woods.

Martyn reaches out, slowly, with his left hand. He feels around Ren’s fur with his fingers, looking for Ren’s pulse. He feels it under his fingers, a steady rhythm. Martyn glances to Ren’s face—Still does nothing. There’s not even a flicker of his eyelids as Martyn feels for Ren’s ribs, finding the space between them.

It’s the smart thing to do. Martyn needs a safe place to stay, one where he won’t be found. This place is safe…ish, minus the beast whose mercy Martyn lives at. Ren may be kind for now, but the limits he places on Martyn’s freedoms are dangerous.

Martyn can’t eat, not properly, not when Ren can't cook and keeps him from the kitchen. Keeps him from the gardens, too, and the armory, and that keeps his strength in check. He’s constantly helping clean and repair the dusty, crumbling rooms, which gives him less energy to fight back. There’s a lot of this castle Martyn doesn’t know, and Ren has been here for years. Ren is powerful, and Martyn knows from running his hands through the fur that Ren is all muscle beneath the coat.

Martyn can’t leave. He can’t go home, and he has no one else to hide with. He needs this castle. He needs this place, all of it. Ren stands between him and the perfect haven.

And Ren, fool that he is, has given Martyn a knife.

Martyn draws his hand back, away from Ren’s heart. Both hands close around the dagger’s hilt. He'll never need to worry about a thing again, so long as he buries it up to the guard.

Martyn raises his weapon high above his head. In the faint light of the moon, the blade glows a dim, cold white.

Martyn is calm as he holds the blade in the air. His breathing is silent, mouth set into a firm line. His eyes are steely sharp, zeroed in on the space between Ren’s ribs. It’s basically black, dark fur hidden by the shadow of Ren’s legs, where Ren is curled around himself. He'd be curled up entirely into himself, hiding his heart and every other vital thing, if it weren't for the fact he left space for Martyn to lean against him.

Martyn, fool that he is, takes a glance at Ren’s face.

Ren looks content. His snout lies in the square of light from the window, gently illuminated against the white sheets, soaking in the midnight moonlight. In the still of the night, Martyn can see clearly his soft breathing. If Martyn had to guess, he would say Ren isn’t even dreaming, at a sort of peace second only to that found by the dead.

Not that Ren’s death will be peaceful. It will be fast, sure—he’ll be dead before the stain of his own blood sullies his snout, but bleed he will. Will he be able to move, Martyn wonders? Should Martyn be prepared to dodge? Or will Ren’s body continue to hold as if to fit him, even in death?

Will he even have time to know who killed him?

Martyn hadn’t understood the point of taking his knife. The weapon is too close, too personal—he’d never get a chance to use it, not before Ren could stop him, not unless Ren was an idiot.

Will Ren have time to open his eyes? He’ll see Martyn immediately. He’ll know what Martyn has done, what Ren has allowed him to do so very easily. Even as quickly as Ren will die, he will know what Martyn has done. He’ll understand his mistake.

Knives are personal like that.

Personal enough Martyn knows that he’ll see Ren’s eyes, when they open. Martyn himself will know, intimately, the exact moment Ren understands what Martyn has done.

Ren’s eyes, when he’s happy, seem to glow. It counters the fact he can’t smile without looking like a monster, the way they shine with the light of the sun. What will they look like, in the dim glow of the moon, as that light fades? Will it die with him? Or will it go just a beat too soon, in the moment Ren understands what Martyn has done to him?

If Ren opened his eyes now, what would he see?

Martyn holds the knife above his head, though he does not manage to keep it very high. He frowns, biting his lip on the inside of his mouth. His eyes are wide with a growing, pleading horror.

The only thing that stops Martyn from slamming the knife back down onto the nightstand is the fear Ren will hear it.

Tomorrow, Martyn will take Ren’s face into both of his own and scratch every spot he knows Ren likes, listening to his laugh and to the way his tail thumps against the bed. He’ll move to Ren’s back when the weight of Ren’s eyes starts to crush him, running his nails up and down along Ren’s spine, keeping his hands from following Ren’s ribs too far down. Ren will laugh, will relax, will sigh and roll so that Martyn can more easily access his stomach, and Martyn will feel so suddenly and violently ill that he has to leave the room.

Tomorrow, Martyn will duck away the moment he’s able, taking the mop and bucket to the worst, dirtiest, most disgusting corner of the castle he can find, and he'll scrub away like it will clear red-black shadows from the back of his mind. He’ll wave Ren off once, twice, three times, shooing away his food and his company, up until all the blood is gone and there’s nothing left to clean.

Tonight, Martyn settles back into the space Ren makes for him at his side. He pulls Ren’s tail back across his lap, and notices, not for the first time, how perfectly he fits.

[vonlipvig]

Finally saved Angie’s piece of shit dad. It took me two hours worth of attempts to realise I could activate healing touch while in healing touch, but the bastards I now realise were spiders not weevils are dead and I’m sure this mean Guilt is over forever now!

YES, CONGRATULATIONS! YOU'VE DONE IT! GUILT IS OVER, IT WILL NEVER COME BACK TO HURT US! NEVER EVER!

...

or IS IT?

DEREK STILES WILL RETURN IN UNDER THE KNIFE 2 KNIFIER THAN EVER. GET THOSE SCALPELS AND GAUZE CAUSE IT'S GONNA GET BLOODY.

[liverpool-enjoyer]

watching klopps press conference n bro will take any opportunity to say "there is no fierce rivaly 😐" n i know pep is screaming crying rn

[mihotose]

[ofthecaravel]

You Don't Go To Parties Masterpost

I needed somewhere to put all the chapters, so I figured I'd make it easier for all of us (plus some new art ooo ahhhh)

Chap 1 ~ You Don't Go To Parties  

Chap 2 ~ If Walls Could Talk 

Chap 3 ~ Lover of Mine

Chap 4 ~ Everything I Didn't Say

[swagging-back-to]

finally went and got my GED diploma a year after i graduated :)))))

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

"i think i need to do the next part alone" no you dont!!!!!!! you dont!!!!!!!!!