#THIS HAS BEEN TORMENTING ME FOR A YEAR NOW!

[postcardsfromheapside]

I need to be salty for a hot second about people who are upset about aspects of Lucanis' romance.

I'll put everything else under the break for spoilers, but in general, I am so disappointed in a large portion of this fanbase who apparently thought "disaster" meant "romantasy," but also it's in keeping with how a lot of people seem unable to put things in context.

One of the complaints I keep seeing run past is that the scene where you commit to a relationship with Lucanis seems pefunctory, or out of the blue, there's nothing really romantic about it, it's too similar to the platonic route, etc, etc, ETC.

I romanced Emmrich, but I've seen other people's versions of romancing Lucanis. I'm just going to kind of word vomit here, and hope I can come up with something cohesive.

As someone who id's with Lucanis for "generational abuse" and "dumpster fire disaster bi" and "using socially acceptable drugs as coping mechanisms in place of addressing your problems" reasons, it's been really fucking annoying watching the almost deliberate misinterpretation of his character even after Mary Kirby dropped several explanations on social media. It's like a large part of the fanbase saw all that and turned into the "yes yes, very sad...anyway!" meme and went right on fetishizing him...then got mad when he didn't turn into the seductive Dom with wings they were hoping for.

You commit to Lucanis after (what I consider) a very intense scene inside his "mind prison." He's struggling so much internally that Spite wrests control of his body from him in front of witnesses and begs Rook to help them. Lucanis would never ask Rook to do so on his own, he's terrible at asking for the help he truly needs. Spite drags Rook into the Fade Ossuary and demands they free Lucanis from his self-imposed prison. And whether you're a friend or would-be lover, Rook slowly talks Lucanis out of a host of self doubts regarding his family and friends. Can he trust himself not to hurt other people, now that he's saddled with this affliction? Has he disappointed the people he cares about most? Do these new people he's coming to care about actually trust and care about him? The rooms are filled with fragmented thoughts that peter out into regrets. You're literally seeing Lucanis' fractured and complicated emotions.

One of them tore a hole straight through me: "You'd have to kill me...And Spite would die."

You'd have to kill him to get rid of the demon. And he'd regret the death of the demon that's protected him and given him strength, through a brutal year of betrayal and torment. I don't know if y'all remember the scenes in the Ossuary of the failed experiments and the corpses you had to pass to get to his jar of blood. It wasn't fun.

When you break out of the mind prison after helping him bond with Spite, it's intimate and momentous, even on a platonic route. You've seen desperate and lonely parts of him he'd never willingly show anyone.

As you're convincing Lucanis that it's okay to leave his mind-prison, you tell him you understand that it's easier to deal with problems like the Ossuary and Zara than healing and living with Spite, potentially hurting people he cares about. But he wants to. It's Rook's job to help him see a path out, a way for him to make the struggle easier so he can begin to heal himself.

I need to stress: you aren't "fixing" him. You're acting as his lighthouse, regardless of whether you're a friend or a lover. Sometimes people need help. He's still going to have to do the work to get there.

As a friend, it was extremely rewarding to come back to the kitchen and see him doing exactly as I'd hoped: moving on with the business of *living*. He made a nice dinner for everyone he's come to care for, and a special dessert for Neve. Cooking is where Lucanis finds creativity, and comfort, and connection with his friends and family. He isn't very good with words, but he will note everything you consume, and try to make you feel loved by expressing it that way.

Which is why I think it's important you don't dismiss the commitment on the romantic route. He remembers YOUR favorite drink and makes YOU a special dessert if you're romancing him. Lucanis isn't going to get poetic. You've already made him feel raw. You've seen the ugly, embarassing parts of him. What is he supposed to say? Usually it takes Spite reaching through his body to actually be direct. Instead, Lucanis reaches for food, his favorite medium, to try and apologize for inadvertently showing you those things, to thank you for helping him despite seeing what he considers the most shameful parts of him. Your commitment is letting him know that you value him, that he has nothing to be ashamed of, that you understand what he's trying to express with his struggling communication skills, which appear to get better as your relationship progresses from there.

It's weird that some of y'all don't feel that this is heartfelt and important, because you'd rather him act out some sensuous fantasy trope. It's also weird that some of you haven't figured out that many scenes in RPG's can be similar on platonic and romantic routes with tweaks to shade context.

(Also just in case this comes up: cooking is not his "love language" - that whole concept was invented by a misogynistic weirdo and we should remove it from our ideas of communication)

Anyway, this guy is my Rook's bestie and I'll go down swinging for him, you should appreciate the fuck out of him and stop acting like his writer didn't craft a perfectly funny little weirdo who is bad at showing people his tender parts and terrible at interpersonal relationships.

[paroxysmaljune]

can you believe this asshole has been tormenting me for a year exactly now. because i did think it would be funny to post a drawing because of that. also check the alt outfit design i made last week and adored so much i spent six and a half hours on the linework of this. more doodles and w/o lighting version under the cut

diamonds on the gauntlets were added in the linework stage thats why theyre not there. also ft naamah and enoch since i wanted to put the three of them in primary colors + also the girl with wings is my oc arabelle after i realized that the gay little robe is a similar design

ok thats all. disappears again

[shadowsingercassia]

The Day Hope Died

Rhysandxreader (on the second part)

Warnings: torture, mentions of torture, wing damage (very innacurate from the actual books but anyways), Amarantha (she's a TW herself fr), angst (tell me if i missed anything!!)

Words: 1.2k

a/n: even if people don't enjoy this, I'm proud of it

-------------------------☆-------------------------

Being under the mountain was like living in hell. Rhysand had been forced to do all sorts of atrocities. Invade people's minds and collect information from their memories, torturing them, and killing them with his daemati abilities.

As he sat on the mattress on the bed he was unavoidably sharing with Amarantha, he finally let the tears fall, flowing down his face in thick rivulets. His wings dangled behind him, the talons at the ends scraping against the sheets.

Quiet sobs left his lips, sounding so broken, filled with years of held-back emotions and suppressed feelings. The taste of his salty tears reached his mouth and his hand went to brush them away.

But the tears only fell, uncontrolled. All he had kept shunned down to the depths of his heart escaped, pouring into those tears. His chest ached, his body ached, his soul ached, and the ache wouldn’t go away, sitting heavily on top of his heart.

Rhysand sat there for Mother knows how long, crying, letting it all out. He sat there until the tears dried and the redness in his eyes faded. Yet still, the corners of his eyes prick with tears now and then.

Deep down, there was a sorrow he couldn't calm. A sorrow that would never leave him, no matter how much he wept.

He knew Amarantha would return before he knew it, and then compel him to do unspeakable things anew. Or perhaps she was already there, observing him as he broke while she laughed silently and mocked him.

He hadn’t felt her presence though, and it filled him with a spark of hope. It was always there, prepared to flare up with the smallest chance - yet each time she returned, it was lit out. And every time the hope was dimming. Perhaps it soon would be the time that the spark was finally shut down. Forever. For eternity.

Hope was useless anyway; there was no hope for anyone trapped here. It was pointless, dreaming. Rhysand couldn’t even dream of anything besides the nightmares Amarantha shoves into his mind. He can’t dream of anything other than the faces he has been forced to torture.

And Cauldron, he was a dreamer, a hopeful person. Where was that hopefulness now? Where were the dreams?

At least he knew his family was guarded and out of harm's way. Truly, that was all that mattered to him. Rhysand didn’t care about what happened to him, not at all, so long as his family was secure, he didn’t care if he lived or died under the mountain.

Wiping away the last remnants of his tears, he heard the door unlock, as Amarantha entered the room. “Rhysie, Rhysie… oh, how pathetic you are, look at you, crying,” her voice was full of mockery, yet Rhysand wasn’t infuriated. Instead, he faced her words and accepted them. He knew that in some sense, he was pathetic. In some sense, everything she said is true.

Hence, he believed her, and he forced himself to believe everything she told him. Perhaps the nightmare would end that way. When he finally shows his full acceptance and submission, maybe it will end.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

But it all was just a big what-if, and there was no sign of anything changing. It was the same routine, the same days over and over. Wake, please Amarantha. Torment people and then go back to rest, if he could only get a few hours of it.

Rhysand lowered his gaze to the floor, tears blurring his vision again. He used to think that rebelling against Amarantha would make her stop everything. But soon, his naïve mind was proven wrong. So he tried to submit to her desires, no matter how physically sick it made him. At least she wouldn’t torture him, wouldn’t hurt him.

In truth, he was scared of the suffering, scared of her. Everyone was, and everyone is. Because torture is agony and there’s nothing he could do about it.

Rhysand hated whenever she tortured him, he hated feeling the sting of the scars after.

No one there could heal him, Amarantha wouldn’t allow it. So whenever she tortured him, the blood would stick to his skin for days, weeks before he was allowed one single bath. Then, he would scrub his skin raw to rid himself of the blood.

“Just stop crying already you’re such a useless toy,” she starts again, "can’t even do your job right and please me. I should just kill you already.” She added. Rhysand’s chest tightened. His lips pressed into a thin line as if that could stop the fresh tears pooling in his eyes.

He felt her long nails on his wings, the pads of her fingers trapping the talon of his wing between them. Then she twisted it.

A scream tore from his throat as he propelled forward to his knees. His head dropped to the ground, his forehead meeting the cold stone as he felt the tears against his cheeks.

Sharp sensations tore through him again as she twisted and twisted, intending to pull the talon right out of its place. The pain grew stronger and stronger, his screams drowned out by the burning in his throat.

Rhysand felt something disconnect before he heard her voice. “Well, wouldn’t this make such a lovely charm for my necklace? I’ll wear it like jewelry, just like I do with Jurian’s eye,” she stated, her tone cold. The feeling of something utterly wrong consumed Rhysand.

Everything was amiss, Amarantha hadn’t simply torn the talon. She took a part of the membrane with it. He heard the sound of it tear and then it was shoved in front of where his forehead was pressed.

It smelled like blood and as he opened his eyes, his gaze fell on the piece of the leather-like skin of his wing in front of his eyes. Bile stung his throat before he threw up. His wings, his Illyrian wings, the one thing that made him feel alive, now one of them torn, scarred for life. And there was no way of fixing it, no way of healing the tissue.

A door slammed shut and Rhysand realized Amarantha left the room. He lifted his face from the ground and looked at his wing, the top bone completely torn off. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. So much so that he wasn't certain if someone was also tearing his heart from his chest with their hands at the same time.

Once, he had been told to embrace his pain but this was unlike any other. It was a pain that made him feel too empty. He was unable to embrace it because this pain was the kind of pain that came from losing a part of yourself - something he has experienced once too many times.

But his wings were still such an important part of him that he couldn’t bear thinking that now, he wouldn’t be able to fly. Never again, he would ever fly alongside Cassian and Azriel, alongside his brothers. He will never be able to feel the wind as it kisses his face.

He would never feel freedom again.

And maybe that was when all of his hope evaporated. Perhaps, that was the day when this spark died.

Because Rhysand felt utterly helpless, utterly hopeless.

And alone, so alone.

-------------------------☆-------------------------

a/n: part 2 coming soon (with a happy ending)

general taglist: @blessthepizzaman @amara-moonlight @homeslices @flourishandblotts-inc @anarchiii @barb00235

comment '💕' to be added to my general taglist!

Love, Cassia ❤️

[beef-brisket]

Levi: Alright. Those are very valid concerns and issues, Adam. Relationships need work from both parties. It's not only damaging to your relationship with each other, but also with your daughter.

Lucifer listened. She's only six months old, how much damage could he really do?

Levi: Now, Lucifer. Why sex?

Lucifer blinked, not understanding the question.

Lucifer: Uh... why sex? I mean... look at him.

Lucifer didn't know what else to say. But he knew it wasn't a good answer when Adam rolled his eyes.

Levi glanced at Adam, then back at Lucifer, her hand, and he gave hardening.

Levi: What do you mean by that?

Lucifer: ...He's the first man. He's literally perfection. Who wouldn't want a night with him?

Levi: So... let me get this straight. You value the sex you have with Adam, the first man, over the marriage you have with Adam, the father or your child?

Lucifer tensed: ...That's not what I meant.

Levi: What did you mean, then?

Lucifer: I-I mean... he's amazing. I love him, why wouldn't I want sex with him? And I don't see a difference between Adam and the first man- he's both. Their both perfect and important to me- it's the same person! Adam IS Adam!

Lucifer chuckles and leans back, he smiles at Adam but it drops when he's not even looking at him.

Levi hums and writes a quick note: Lucifer. I'm sure you of all people know what kind of weight titles have. Do you think there's a difference between the king of Hell and Lucifer?

Lucifer: ...I mean... I'm Lucifer... who's also the king of Hell. Is... is there a difference?

Levi: Do you always feel like the king of Hell?

Lucifer: No. Sometimes... I feel empty and cold. Then, when I'm doing work, I feel stressed and fake.

Levi: Fake?

Lucifer: Like it's an act. I'm not put together or even slightly functioning. I'm just... a mess most of the time. I've never felt like a king. Not for thousands of years. I feel like a fraud. A lie. I demand respect, but I don't deserve it. There's no difference between the king of Hell and Lucifer. Their both pathetic. Both a lie.

Lucifer shrugs: I gave up trying to change that. There's no point.

Levi: There is a point. Your daughter. Both of them.

Lucifer froze and glanced to Adam. He was now looking at him, he looked sad but desperate.

Lucifer: I...

Levi: It's not just you, Lucifer. It's never been just you. Charlie is over two hundred years old, but she still needs you. Does she deserve the best version of you?

Lucifer nodded, looking at Levi: Yeah, she does.

Levi: Does Avery deserve you at your best?

Lucifer: Yes. Yes she does.

Levi: Does Adam? Not, Adam, the first man. But Adam. Your husband. The father of your child.

Lucifer: looked at Adam: Yes, he does.

Levi: Then. It sounds like the king of Hell and Lucifer needs to change. For the better. And it's not just them you need to better yourself for.

Lucifer turned to Levi. He really hopes this isn't another pregnancy announcement.

Levi: You deserve it, too. Probably more than anyone.

That was even worse than a pregnancy announcement.

Lucifer: I... what? I don't... I've done... I deserve nothing. I don't even deserve Adam or Avery! Fuck- I don't deserve Charlie!

Levi: ...you deserve love, Lucifer. And compassion and devotion. Both of you do. But Lucifer. You can't change for them, if you don't change for you, first.

Lucifer glared: T-Then I might as well just throw everything away! Because I've done some horrible shit, Lizzy! Hell torments me every damn day! I deserve it! I can't change! How can I!? I deserve no happiness or love! I'm the Devil! The most hated fucking being in existence! Adam even said so!

Adam: Fuck you, Lucifer- that was years ago! Don't you think my opinion of you has changed!?

Lucifer glared at him: Obviously not, if we're here.

Levi: Lucifer. You're attacking him. And yourself. Enough.

Lucifer looked away. He was beyond annoyed and confused.

Levi: You have a lot of work, Lucifer. Not just kingly duties, but personal ones. I'm going to book you in for personal counseling.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and eyed her: I'm doing personal counseling-.

Adam: Counseling from someone that's not your daughter, dumbass.

Levi: Adam, please. No name calling in my office. I know you're mad. But please try and keep it civil.

Adam rolled his eyes and looked away.

Lucifer: I... don't need counseling-.

Levi: That's what everyone that needs counseling says. Stay behind after this session, so I can organize it for you.

Lucifer felt that there was no way to fight this, so he nods.

When Lucifer and Adam exited Dr Levi's office, they waited for her in the lobby.

Lucifer: ...Great session, huh? I sure learned a lot! It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be!

Lucifer laughed awkwardly after a few seconds of Adam not speaking. Eventually, Levi walked out and got the payment ready. Lucifer watched as Adam paid and headed for the door.

Lucifer: I'll be there in a second, dove! Don't leave without me, haha!

Lucifer organized a few personal sessions, and Levi did a few for Adam to. She handed him three cards with their individual and group session dates.

He thanked her and walked outside. He looked around, and his heart dropped when he saw Adam had left.

Separation Trial

@beef-brisket @things-arent-what-they-seem66

Adam tapped his fingers against the table in a distracted manner. He had been there at the restaurant for a while now. Waiting for his...waiting for Lucifer. He needed to talk with Lucifer, he wanted to talk to him at home about it, in private. However, when he asked about meeting him, Lucifer simply nodded his head and said they could meet at this restaurant.

He didn't even take Adam’s idea at eating at home into consideration. Although the place Adam sat currently was upscale and nice it wasn’t what he wanted to do. This wasn’t where he wanted to have…the conversation. He sighed to himself as he saw Lucifer approach. He barely even said hello before Lucifer kissed him on the cheek before seating himself.

Lucifer: Hello my dearest, what’s going on? Why’d you want to talk at a restaurant? You know we could have talked over the phone. You made it sound so urgent.

Adam took a moment to keep his anger in check. Once again Lucifer wasn’t listening.

Adam: What I wanted to talk to you about couldn’t be said over the phone. It had to be in person. Lucifer we have been married for three whole years now.

Lucifer: Yeah I know, last week was our anniversary. Don’t you remember Addie?

Adam felt his breath hitch and he struggled to not cry then and there. Their third anniversary had been a disaster, he didn’t want to go into it. But Adam had would forever hate that day. It was what made him bring this meeting with Lucifer.

Adam: I do remember, and so should you.

Lucifer: But I literally just said that I

Adam: No, I’m talking about what happened that day. Can you please tell me what happened?

Lucifer was nervous at his husband’s harsh tone but answered him.

Lucifer: Well, I do remember that both of us were so busy, I with handling a fortis problem, then Charlie called and she needed some help with the hotel, and I didn’t get back till late at night. Oh and you had that concert of yours, by the way how was it? I don’t think I asked before.

Adam felt his eye twitch.

Adam: It was not JUST a concert Lucifer.

Lucifer: …Did something happen at the concert?

Adam: More like what didn’t happen.

Lucifer: Did no one applaud you? Were they booing you? Honey don’t worry your a great singer, you’ll bounce back.

Adam: No, there were no applause nor cheers. Because my audience wasn’t there.

Lucifer: Oh, Adam I’m so sorry.

Adam: You weren’t there Lucifer.

Lucifer: What?

Adam: You were not at my concert Lucifer, You were supposed to be there. Because you were meant to be my audience. Because that concert was going to be dedicated to you! It was supposed to be my wedding anniversary present to you!

Lucifer: But, but, but it’s not my fault if you don’t tell me in advance!

Adam: Lucifer I told you weeks prior about it. And you always said that you’d be there. But of course you lied.

Lucifer: I didn’t lie! Shit came up Adam this isn’t my fault. If anything you should have told me before I left that day! On top of that what did you expect me to do? Not do my duty as king. Tell the goetia to handle it themselves!? Say no to my own daughter, your own daughter, I shouldn’t have helped her at all?! Geez you can be selfish sometimes.

Adam’s eyes widened at that statement. He was shocked to his seat still. Then slowly he nodded his head in understanding. He was an idiot for ever even considering giving Lucifer a second chance. Taking a deep breath, Adam looked directly into Lucifer’s yellow, red eyes and said,

Adam: Lucifer, I want a divorce

[strawberrybrunette]

My Roman Empire has changed.

Idk how to feel about it.

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

---------------

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[capn-twitchery]

i can't believe i made grace one entire year ago today,,,,i also can't believe it happened to fall on a "captain it's wednesday" wednesday

happy birthday grace!!! 🎉🥳 sorry i have done nothing but make your life worse for 365 days!!! 🎉🎉🥳

[dykedvonte]

Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like

-💀

It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.

If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.

Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.

He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...

[memento-morri-writes]

More dnd writing because it's all I have but I here's a snippet from a vignette I did of Rook's past (from Zara's POV), because Rook and his mentors never fails to make me sick (/pos).

[transcript under the cut]

Taking a coin out of her pocket, she rolled it across her knuckles, back and forth. It gave her hands something to do, and prevented the urge to bite her nails, something she hadn’t done in years. Ten minutes passed, then twenty. Zara began to pace as Rook’s breathing grew shakier and the color drained from his skin. Where the hells is Jay? she wondered. The room was so quiet that she could hear every tick of the small clock on her bedside table, and each one echoed in her head. How many ticks does he have left? She didn’t want to think about it.  She’d had crew members die before, of course. You don’t go as many years as a captain as she had and never lose a soul. But all the others who had died had died quickly, in combat. She’d mourned for all of them, even shed tears in private, but there was something different about watching the life drain out of a person right in front of your eyes.

[carrie-tate]

. . .

[insmouthlookingass]

Zydrate comes in a little glass vial.

A little glass vial?

A little glass vial.

And the man door hand hook car door in like a battery

[butchford]

Bitches will be like "damn am I overexaggerating how bad the current landscape is?" And then the top posts in a character tag that's not even involved will be "this post contains filtered tags [ship]"

[slutdge]

typical 7 am judas moment where im sobbing over what i could have been and accomplished if my parents had loved me :)

[dontmesswithnoheroin]

I finally got the romanced spawn!Astarion epilogue and my first epilogue in the game I'm ,,,,,,,,,,

I need to lie down

[edoro]

oops, i became briefly too aware of the enormity of the soul-crushing effort it takes for me to function at a level most people would consider 'rock bottom', and now i'm filled with bitter, seething resentment

[creations-by-chaosfay]

A thing I pre-ordered months ago has shipped!

What's the thing?

Keepsake Quilting, and several other quilt companies/stores, put a sort of gift box together with fabric, notions, patterns, and gift cards in them. You don't know what you're getting, making it a surprise. I have never purchased one because they're expensive. This was 50% upfront, 50% when shipped, for a total of $150. Considering how much is in it, and what reviews were left the last several years, it's a steal. Plus, I wanna treat myself after having such a stressful and unpleasant year.

My mom and one of aunts have ordered such boxes in the past, but according to my mom, they're disappointing because she has so many of the things in the package, or no use for many of them. Rulers (some of which cost $30), needles, rotary cutters and extra blades (blades can be $10/each, new cutters up to $50), fabric marking tools (chalk pencils, disappearing ink, etc), precut fabric collections (jelly rolls can be $80, fat quarter collections up to $100 depending on number of FQs), and yardage ($12.99-$21.99/yard). She's been disappointed by "ugly" fabric too many times.

I, on the other hand, have significantly fewer tools. I make things for people to buy, and some folks love fabric I cannot stand (like x-mas and patriotic prints). There have been fabrics I consider well and truly hideous, and those I list in my shop or sell to people here. One person's trash is another's treasure, right? I've met people who think pastels are ugliest things to have ever existed. I think baby pink and green military camouflage look fantastic together, as well as turquoise and light hemp brown or terracotta and peacock blue. My mom finds them hideous. I think pink and any shade of brown look terrible together, or red and khaki (likely from working at Target and seeing is everywhere). Again, personal taste.

If any of you ever fancy treating me to one of these random collections of fabric and/or notions, feel free to do so. They're the sort of surprise I enjoy (that and people purchasing my work, especially from my shop). Sure, there are things that may he of no use to me, but others can use them. Nothing goes to waste.

This package will be arriving on November 18th, and has me giggling with excitement!