#and now it's even angstier

[beautifulterriblequeen]

I don't know whether to be excited or afraid that Rayla has taken Runaan's position as team leader. I think I like it, though. Katolis has been her home for the last couple of months. She knows this place, and its people, more than Runaan does. She should lead the way.

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

Do you think if the trolls all came back, like everything in the main comic did happen and they were alive again. Do you think Feferi would actually forgive Eridan? Or want to even be his friend after everything? I don't personally like the erisol and fefertasprite interaction…felt rushed…..so I just wanted to know your opinion if things were different! :)

Yeah, I think they would be! Feferi is one of the trolls who takes dying the least badly (relentless optimism) and Eridan does genuinely feel bad, which means a lot when it's Eridan. I think she really is genuine when she says she wants them to be friends and also that she's really not the type of person to hold a grudge, and like... death is SUPER cheap in Homestuck, it's really not the horrific, irredeemable, irreperable damage that it is IRL - and if you're talking about (Feferi) and (Eridan), then they're both dead (and irrelevent) now, so the score is kind of even.

In general, the fandom - I mean, people in general, really - tend to have difficulty divorcing themselves from other people. We tend to assume that the people and characters they like will hold similar opinions to themselves. This is how people who like Karkat and don't like Eridan can mentally gloss over or even block out their clear, close friendship, or how people who dislike Cronus can end up overlooking that Meenah actually takes his opinion seriously and unironically defends his wizard thing. Feferi really isn't mad at Eridan or upset about dying the way we probably would be, because she's friends with the horrorterrors, relentlessly cheerful, comfortable with death in general, and death is also just not really that big of a deal in this setting. "I'm really sorry about that, that was shitty of me" is honestly probably all the apology she needs, especially if they came back to life anyway.

[edwinspaynes]

Edwin puts his notebook in his left shirt pocket because it has his family crest on it and he wants to keep it close to his heart. Despite his familial relationships being "tenuous" (see: them neglecting him and failing to look for him after he disappeared). Despite everything. Because it connects him to people he loved. Even if they didn't love him. I am Unwell

[immeasurable-depths]

I think it makes perfect sense that Imogen doesn’t want to save the gods, given that she’s tried to connect with them before and been ignored.

It’s sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy - of course the gods are going to avoid her, when her powers come from an entity designed to destroy them. If gods can recognise greatness, and strength, and dormant powers, I’m sure they can detect that sliver of Ruidus tied to her soul. She feels tainted, and she didn’t know why for such a long time, but I suspect the gods did.

And given that her Ruidus powers have been dormant inside her for her whole life, it makes sense that she’s been influenced by its desires, Predathos’ instincts bleeding through and quietly influencing her. Of course she’d be predisposed to rejecting the pantheon as a result.

I know a lot of people read that as selfish, but I think it’s way more complicated than that - and that’s why I love Imogen, for her complicatedness. She’s constantly fighting for control, trying to make sense of powers she didn’t ask for and sometimes making poor choices, wrong judgements. And that’s okay, it’s what makes her interesting.

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

I read your Immortal AU tag all the way back to August 2023. Love love love Perky!! Have you made/would you consider making an FAQ for the AU??

Holy crap August 2023??? Gee it's been that that long already?? So so so happy to hear that! Im pretty messy when showing them so I'm glad that tiny old fool is liked <3

I haven't made one! To be honest I kinda forgot those existed lmao. I should probably do that, even I sometimes forget what I've answered and what I haven't

Though b4 that I should probably figure out how to answer a few that have been sitting in the mail,,,

[griseldabanks]

Comfyvember 2

Story: The Four (original) Prompts: Favourite song — Holding hands — Walking and talking

Note: The first syllable of "Myrian/Myriath" is meant to be pronounced MEER, not MIRE.

The bed was soft, the blankets warm, the darkness eased by silver bands of moonlight that stretched across the floor through the wide open windows that let in the soothing rush and sigh of waves rolling onto the beach. And yet Timor could not sleep.

The boy sat on the low bench by the window nearest his bed, hugging his knees to his chest as he gazed out over the sea. The moon was only half-full, yet it limned the crests of the gentle waves as they curled over and tumbled back down into the black depths.

For once, Timor wasn't afraid of the darkness or his unfamiliar surroundings. His heart was too heavy for fear. Too numb.

Perhaps that's the answer I've been seeking, he thought with a sigh of bone-deep weariness. The key to courage is to be so wounded you can feel nothing more.

“That is the sigh of a man twice your age,” a voice said softly behind him.

Timor's heart didn't so much leap as give a feeble lurch of surprise. It helped that he instantly recognized Farawin's voice. He didn't look up as the Myrian crossed the room on softly slippered feet. “C-Can't sleep,” Timor mumbled, still staring out into the dark night.

“I thought as much.” Farawin stopped at his side, folding long-fingered hands that almost seemed to glow in the moonlight. “That is why I sought you out.”

“Even if you t-tuck me in, I won't b-be able t-to sleep.”

“I am not here to play nursemaid, my friend. But as long as we are both awake...will you walk with me?”

Timor looked up at him. Farawin's pale skin was luminous in the moonlight, the silvery scale-like patches of skin on his cheeks and neck shimmering in a way they didn't in full daylight. His long, golden hair had been washed and pulled back in an elaborate web of braids such as Timor hadn't seen since the first day they'd met. But unlike that day (so long ago it seemed), there was nothing but compassion and understanding in those sea-green eyes.

Farawin held out a hand. With another weary sigh, Timor took it and let his friend help him to his feet.

It wasn't until they'd passed quietly through the corridors of the Myrian palace and stepped out onto the main street that Timor realized Farawin had never let go of his hand. He didn't mind, though. It felt good to have something to hold onto.

There were few people out at this time of night, so for most of their midnight stroll, there was no one to stare at the elegant Myrian prince walking hand-in-hand with a scrawny, dark-haired human boy who walked with slumped shoulders and nibbled at the finely embroidered sleeve of the tunic he'd been given.

After a few minutes, Timor realized the white cobblestones of the main street of Myriath were fading away into a simple stone-lined path. “Where are we g-going?”

“To the Ash-Phanash.” Farawin pointed along the path they followed, which led to a round building on the edge of the cliff Timor had seen out his window. The dome shone white in the moonlight.

“What is it?”

“I think you would call it a temple,” Farawin said. “It is where we sing praises to the Great Eagle, and where we hold meetings and rituals. When the moon is full, singers pass in and out in shifts, so that the building is filled with unceasing song both night and day.” He looked down at Timor with a little smile. “But tonight, we shall have the Ash-Phanash all to ourselves.”

They walked the rest of the way in silence. The Ash-Phanash had no doors blocking the entryway, so they simply walked in through an archway made of marble or some other white stone. After passing through a dark passageway where Timor clung even tighter to Farawin's hand, they emerged in an enormous round room.

Far above their heads, the dome they'd seen before stretched like the sky above them. Seats rose in tiers all around them, carved from the same white stone and covered with small round cushions for people to sit on. There were no torches or candles to light the enormous room, but somehow it didn't seem dark and gloomy. There were windows all around, letting in the moonlight as well as the fresh sea breeze.

Farawin led the way to the highest tier of seats, and they settled down on matching red cushions near a window that looked back over Myriath in the distance. Timor was glad to get off his feet; he hadn't realized how far they'd walked. Not to mention that he was still recovering from their flight to the island.

Peace seemed to permeate the very walls of the Ash-Phanash. Timor closed his eyes, listening to the distant echoes of the surf crashing against the cliff far below. Something in his chest loosened. He opened his eyes again and looked up at Farawin. “D-Do you have any songs for-for...for when you've...l-lost somebody?”

The sorrow that had been swimming deep in Farawin's eyes now bobbed to the surface. “Yes,” he murmured. “Would you like to hear one?”

Timor nodded.

Instead of bursting into song then and there, Farawin got to his feet and walked back down to the center of the amphitheater, motioning for Timor to remain seated. When he finally got to the small dais they'd passed on their way up, Farawin turned to face Timor again. He looked very small and far away.

Putting a hand over his heart, Farawin opened his mouth, and a melody as pure and clear as moonlight poured from his lips, as distinctly as if Farawin still stood beside him. Timor couldn't understand the words, if words they even were, but he sat there and let them wash over him like the waves on the beach.

In fact, there was something to the music that was reminiscent of the ebb and flow of the tide, of the wind rustling the trees, of water lapping against a boat, of the swelling and diminishing of the moon.

Time rolled on. The sea was ever-changing, yet ever the same. Timor closed his eyes again, and felt something like peace fill his chest where before had only been pain.

[another-clive-blog]

Drops Fantasy AU. Doesn't elaborate. Leave. (I mean I don't have much but I can and will elaborate if given the opportunity to lol)

[hannie-dul-set]

what if i told u i impulsively started writing another rich kid asshole jaemin fic during my 10 minute study break and now im devastated because i have to get back to studying.

[rafasbiscuits]

whenever I have a bad day, all I have to do is think.

"what will happen to Magnus after Alec dies?"

And my day gets worse.

[caterpillarinacave]

I'm suspicious of people who don't like Thomastair. Like why do you hate hope, man, why do you hate joy

Fr, fr, why do you hate happiness. Are you so afraid you’ll never experience that happiness. Are you so afraid you’ll be swept away by a wave while looking for a conch shell of happiness that you won’t go to the beach? Are you so afraid you’ll never feel see that elusive sparkle of love peaking out from behind a cloud that you shake your fist at the suns rays and run for the closure of your bitterness when the sky starts to darken?

[beebonkbiki]

Thank you so much for the reikei art! They look so so...so soft?? I cannot describe it in a way that'd make perfect sense, but they're soft?? The way Rei looks at Keito and how... Keito's body language is just...Well, despite that little '...', but you know how that megane is. Thank you for the food; I'm going to be thinking about them for a veeerry long time!

kjfgjkgjgk i love soft reikei like you have no idea…im supremely obsessed with ‘childhood best friends who dramatically fall apart only to slowly come back together’ dynamic like its so. so peak (why do you think im such a big madakana fan lmao). every time i draw reikei i am thinking of how even after everything they would get to a place like this and thats probably why everything turns out so sappy…ty ty ty

[geddy-leesbian]

current plan is to post the Lethan prompt like first thing when I wake up (it's like 99% done but im on eepy meds rn and don't trust myself to proof read) and then try and finish A Miracle Too Good To Be True after

[cvpidzzz]

guys

GUYYYYSGRHWIAVDHDAAJAKQKDS

thoma and lannion switch with tanjirou and nezuko with lanni as the slayer and thoma as the demon.

EVERYTHING BEING STRICTLY PLATONIC TOO !!! >u<

[ame-to-ame]

The heart wants toxic yuri and drunk calls and drunken confessions but the mind tells me to be a responsible adult living in the real world with a 9-5 😐

[spellmage]

thinking about the dark urge is giving me the drive to write fanfic like never before

[musclesandhammering]

Ooooh this is so interesting!

When most people say Mary should’ve been attached to Moriarty, they use it as a way to turn her into a full-tilt villain and ultimately remove her from the equation, and that always irritates me.

But this. This is really cool. Oh you know what would’ve been the perfect fit? If Mary had been one of the assassins Moriarty put in place after Sherlock’s fall to monitor his friends to try and make sure Sherlock was really dead, with instructions to kill John if she got any inkling that Sherlock might’ve faked it. And considering Sherlock was actively hunting those assassins down and arresting/killing them during his time away, that would’ve made a really cool storyline. Like she was sent to do a job, and once she finds out he’s alive she’s supposed to kill John, but like…. she really is in love with him, and Moriarty is dead now, and the rest of his network is gone so…. Wow. Yeah that would’ve been such a perfect fit.

Though I guess they didn’t go that route because that story was kind of done already with Irene. The whole “Big M sent me after you, but I fell in love with you so now I regret it” thing. But I still think it would’ve been great.

“I don’t think she is evil and I don’t think she is a beast. She has had a job [a]nd she’s done beastly things, but so has most of the people in Sherlock. I mean John Watson would have killed people, that’s not a great thing. [H]e’s a soldier and everyone in Sherlock would have killed people, It’s just that she’s done it more and better than them.”

—

Martin Freeman defending Mary Watson’s character when called evil (x)

Word!!!!

(via lilsherlockian1975)

Maybe it’s the “better than them” part that has them hung up….