#i can't wait for you to meet her!

[inamindfarfaraway]

It isn't enough for me to obsess over the complicated, angsty canon Hatchetfield characters and how they relate to the lore and worldbuilding, because I'm compelled to make an OC who's complicated and angsty and related to the lore and worldbuilding to also obsess over.

[battydora]

you don't know this but i'm planning on revealing my bnha sona soon shhhhh...

[amelia-yap]

A DRAGON WEISS FER YE!!!!

GOSH I love her design so so much,,, the silly <3333

WAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THE CREATURE EVERRRRR 😭😭😭😭

[blood-starved-beast]

Do you think how much it would suck for Persephone, Zagreus, Hades, Nyx even (she raised Zag, clearly the lover of Persephone) to essentially be a footnote in Melinoe's life comparative to everyone else? Hades we know his reaction, but the others? They don't know her. What is her favorite things, her hobbies, the things that make her tick, the things that get under her skin. Persephone and the others wake up to realize that Mel has a whole ass life away from them. Yeah she has single-minded focus on saving the House, but no one in their right mind would immediately suggest simply plucking her from the Crossroads and putting her in the House. The sense of missing out of her whole life.

[kirby-the-gorb]

[cuubism]

hello friends. despite my 9 million existing dreamling wips i'm feeling the need to branch out a bit for the sake of my mental variety. what pairing other than dreamling should i write a little something for? could be romantic or platonic

other way of phrasing i guess: any pairings you really want to see more fics for in the fandom?

[pollyna]

Prompt: the things you said over the phone while here was morning. It's always morning when you call.

Or five times Mav calls and Ice pick ups and, for some reason is always morning where Ice is, + one time it's morning for both of them and Ice doesn't need to pick up the phone because Mav is right in front of him.

[azucar-skull]

I never thought a character's design would get me crying

It's just some side characters for the Prologue of FCAU but omg--

[flowerflamestars]

Hello! I hope you had a good holiday season! If you don't mind, I was wondering about Amren and what she is doing in Effloresce. I can't remember if Summer heist happened yet. Her boss, coworkers, and boss's totally-not-love-interest have fucked off to coerce human women to help them. Amren knows laws. She knows there will be consequences. She finds out about the Archeron ties to the city. Someone's going to tell her about the contract that will kill the ruling class of Night. She is the only rational one left on the ruling council.

Hi, thank you! I did- if a very, very busy one :)

If there were an emotional scale for the IC charting from Azriel at one end- having a centuries late break down, genuinely contemplating murder, off the rails, wings on fire, carnivorous shadows CHAOS- Mor would be dead in the middle- bristling with some kind of SOMETHING and concerned but not like. enough to do anything differently- Amren would round out the other side.

She's watching this all happen and gently yawning.

She's infinitely old.

(hello, thing that irritates me beyond belief in canon. She's old and otherworldly and!! why would that only manifest in mild grouchyness?? WHY)

We're pre-theft (which, ho boy, is going to be a fun one), but post almost everything else. Amren has been waiting out whatever stupid thing she knows Rhys will do, busy being a time bomb with a mate who?? doesn't know she's his mate? ridiculous, thinks Amren.

The thing is, she likes the Night Court. She also, at times, cannot help but look upon all these creatures around her like they're very small, brightly colored bugs and she's a hobbyist entomologist on her third aperol spritz watching them buzz flowers she planted, or occasionally die running into windows.

Amren knows things.

She's been waiting for Feyre to reveal some kind of SOME interesting Archeron intrepidness. For Rhysand to look at just the right record. For Feyre to try to go to the bank alone.

(For Azriel to pick up a crystal pitcher and physically start bludgeoning Rhys)

She IS rational, but like. Her goals aren't really...other people's goals. She's interested by what's happening. She has some serious thoughts about the current regimes long term trajectory. (Amren comes SWINGING into the Effloresce narrative.)

What's different, is that she's Night's second.

She's old enough she doesn't really make promises. But when she does, she keeps them. She's going to protect the Night Court, for the best possible future of the Night Court.

[arthooooor]

playing the dawnguard dlc when you're already a vampire is fun because Isran makes an offhand comment about how any vampire could walk in the front door at any time at that point and I'm sitting there like "yeah, sounds like it could be a huge issue 🧛‍♀️"

[karinyosa]

i can't go into the tag rn bc i'll get spoilers but the other show i'm going insane about is blue eye samurai and oh my god. the scene where mizu has a flashback to the fight w taigen while watching a threesome. my god

[revelisms]

Excerpt: Emptied Spaces

Vi recalls her first nights as a new recruit to Zaun.

From a work in progress set after 'heron blue,' an AU where Vi and Jinx reconnect under different terms. Slow, rocky relationship rebuilding, found family messiness, and hurt/comfort abound.

A series of tinny pricks muddle the air. 

"He's not all bad, you know," her sister mumbles. 

Vi presses her nails into her palm. 

In her mind's eye, a litany of refusals. 

She sees the stairs down to the storeroom—their old room—that she'd found boarded up, paint streaked over the walls: a glaring, caution-taped denial to any who dared to enter. She sees Jinx slumped at the bar, dotting black varnish on her nails, flippant as anything to Vi's tight-mouthed questions of what had happened to their things; if there was anything left.

Just ghouls and ghosts, Jinx had said, in an accent not her own, and shot a whip-fire glare through her fringe. Then she'd grinned, cold and feline. Droused on, Key's in Silky's desk, if you care that much.

Like that room was nothing more than an ill memory, to her. Her and Vi's things. Mylo and Claggor's things. Mom and Dad's things. Vander's—

Like all of it wasn't theirs, anymore.

(Never had been.)

They had new rooms, now—ones of their own, only paces down that dark-lamped hall from each other.

Just days prior, that rat had dangled hers in front of her, in some twisted attempt at an olive branch.

It had ridiculous wallpaper and jade-tinted windows; furnishings absurdly ornate, for all their simplicity; shelves upon shelves filled with books she'd never read. They'd given her a bed with smuggled silk sheets and feathered pillows—the kind any Fissure brat in their right mind would dive into, relishing in the best sleep they'd had in years. A luxury all of them deserved. 

Her own room. A real, proper room.

Not four walls and a cot.

(Not a room with Powder.)

In silence, that bastard had stood behind her: smoke and spice on his clothes, a chill like an autumn sea seeping off his bones. The shadow of his suit had lingered in her periphery, unnervingly still. Spindly hands folded at his back; too-clean shoes canted, unmoving. 

Will it suffice? he'd graveled, eventually.

Vi'd fought down the urge to scoff.

Suffice.

As if he couldn't give a damn that he'd paid for it all on the backs of children carting industry wares as much as vials of liquid death; hadn't taken up his keep in their home, Vander's home—claimed the damned thing unrightfully as his own—and now had carved out a pathetic share to toss back to her.

Vi'd found her voice. Our old room was fine.

Hands ticking at his back. If you'd prefer to sleep on the boxes, then be my guest.

She said you emptied it.

Silence ebbing, knifing. A heaviness had snared around his bones: the kind that had rage smelting around it, slow-simmered and tightly leashed: one that set the hairs on her nape rising.

In it was an image. A memory he wouldn't give her the privilege to share.

She didn't want to picture it.

Powder, eleven years old, bruises on her cheek, standing alone in the center of that storeroom. 

Powder, frozen, for minutes or hours or ages—a tattered bunny squeezed between her hands, blood still on her clothes—before the screams finally tore their way out of her.

She didn't want to picture it—but the thought had itched within her, like a virus. She couldn't blink it out.

It's been emptied enough, Silco had answered her: a slither of a hiss. His mismatched stare had veered away, notched to an unseen point in the wall.

Under your orders? Vi'd pressed on.

Another tick of his fingers.

He'd known they'd already spoken about it. That she was aware, by then, that it was Powder—Jinx—who wanted nothing to do with that room: who couldn't sleep in it, couldn't stand to be in it; could only hover at the foot of those stairs, boots welded through the floor, every time this shark-skinned thing offered for her to go through her belongings and do with the space as she wished. 

A denial Vi couldn't grapple with had pooled nauseously in her. One he'd had no qualms in laying out to dry.

I will remind you, Silco had said, placid for all its venom, once, by whose request you are here. And he'd stared her down, like a beast waiting to strike: head tilted, eyes inhuman: chloroform polluting the sea-foam of the living one, magma igniting the ore of the dead. 

Nothing but a dull indifference. Bemusement glazed beneath a fanged snarl. 

He didn't see her as a threat, she'd realized. Not as mirrored strength to be wary of, the way Vander had. 

In the path of his leering, she felt like a child. A gutless, gut-twisted kid.

Like a pair of boxing gloves squeezed shamefully behind her back, and her father's glare simmering above her, a finger lifted slowly between them—Don't you leave her alone, again. 

In his image, the words twisted. A different voice. A dead eye. A threat that bastard didn't need to speak.

She'd heard it, all the same.

Give her one reason to regret that choice, and I will see you out, myself.

"Y'know what's funny?" Jinx says, plucking another piece of metal off her knee. Vi's fingers stutter around her hair. "You've got way more in common than you think. Little spit-fire peas in a pod, really—all Zaun this, Fissurefolk that—No pickles in the stew, Jinx; No bombs in the basement, Birdie-blue." Her sister pitters into a snort, piranha-teeth gleam over the shoulder. "It's bonkers. Like I've got two of ya, now."

And Vi pictures him occupying a similar space in this bar, this room, in her sister's own head. Pictures, dreads, refuses the thought of him toiling over a stove, with little Powder's fingertips peeking against the counter: of him standing bland and impatient in the glittering eaves of a Piltie tailor, wrinkling his brow at the colors this girl insisted on piecing together; of him waking to her tear-muddled face at ungodly hours of the morning, as Vi had done so many years before, and groggily flipping back the sheets; of holding her, at all, in a space that never should have been emptied, in the first place.

The thought curdles in her throat.

Six years—nearly seven, now.

Now, her sister speaks about Powder like a dead self. She spends her free hours dancing around that monster's desk. She has nightmares more vile that the ones Vi remembers, that made voices crawl from the walls, the kind that said the nights would never end and that none of them would ever come back, never come back again (and Mom and Dad never did, and Vander was taken from them)—

And still. 

Still, after all of it—after those terrors would send her panicked and shaken into the hall, with Vi's door already cracked and waiting; after the years Vi had cared for her, reassured her, done her best to be the lovely softness that their mother was, that she feared she could never be—Jinx would go to him, first.

Vi squeezes her eyes shut. 

Slowly, the comb picks through another tangle.

"Two of us, huh?" she mutters, a fire in her chest—and denies it.

[welcomefortune]

What if you were a 24 year old Tevinter mage and God's most impulsive bitch and you were put in charge of saving the world? Anyways here's Lucretia Mercar I love her so much

[watery-melon-baller]

Lads i have Fucked Up Big Time

[ghostzzy]

Fear! 27!

oooo these are fun ones river tysm!!!

'fear', dee having some thoughts and feelings about religion:

Nothing about this place was holy, not like the cathedral they used to visit every Sunday. Her grandfather used to take them, and then her mother. It was a show, like everything was—See, it said, vampires don’t burn on anointed land, don’t fear the cross, don’t fear Hell—but it always felt like more than that to Dee. A reminder that there was something bigger than her family, older than her blood. 

and a bit from 27, dee while puking up blood and bile from her vampire autoimmune disorder:

It didn’t matter how long she had left—hours, maybe days if she was lucky; she wouldn’t live long enough to miss the life she could never have. There was a poeticism in expiring quiet and alone on the floor of a motel bathroom, like any common victim; maybe that could’ve been enough for her.

play cursedwip games with me!

[softquietsteadylove]

Secret Lovers AU???

Heyyy

I just wanted to know if you could write an AU where Thena and Gil have to keep their relationship a secret? In this AU I imagine that Arishem is Thena’s father, and he is very controlling. He keeps Thena in the house all day and has decided that on her 25th birthday she will be wed to Kro. Thena hates this

(Bc she’s already in love with Gilgamesh, Duh)

And she has to sneak out the house to see Gil.

So what do you think?

Tysm Byeeeee 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

"Delivery!"

"Gil!" Thena rushed to the windows, opening them fully for him to climb in and onto her window bench. "I told you not to come tonight."

He just smiled at her, setting down his picnic basket and pulling down the hood of his jacket. "Yeah, but that's when I know you need me the most."

"I thought Father took the lattice down," she frowned as she helped him into her room.

"Yeah, but Karun did us a solid and left the ladder out for me," he chuckled, completely unbothered by her father's efforts to keep them apart. Not that he knew that Gil used it to sneak in. He thought Thena used it to sneak out.

If he knew Gil used it to sneak into her room at night, he would sooner burn down the whole estate.

Gil had been using it for years, though, even when they were just children, whispering about books on Thena's roof under the stars. He had scaled the wall lattice as a pre-teen just trying to get to know his rich and mysterious neighbour. As a teenager, working up the nerve to ask Thena if she'd ever had a boyfriend before. He had scaled that lattice and recited the speech he had memorised from Romeo and Juliet, just to get told that it wasn't exactly Shakespeare's most romantic, despite popular belief.

She had kissed him anyway, though.

"Hey," he smiled, leaning in and kissing her gently. He ran his hands down her arms, "I know you're scared."

She sighed, plunking her forehead onto Gil's chest, laughing when she felt the traces of leaves and bristles from the ivy leaves. "He won't give up on this 'Kro' business, you know. He's determined to marry me off to that monster."

"That won't happen, baby, I promise," Gil attempted to assuage her worries, rubbing her back over her satin robe.

She shook her head, "we got in another fight about it. That's why I told you not to come; if he gets even the slightest idea you're here, he'll have me shipped to the Antarctic."

Gil shrugged, holding her by the waist, "I'd still visit you. Wouldn't have to climb a lattice to do it, either."

She laughed, toying with the strings of his sweatshirt hood. "You shouldn't have to, though."

"I would anyway."

"Gil," Thena insisted, looking up at him, her in bare feet and him still wearing his heavy steel toed boots. "I mean it. I thought now that we were graduated he would have let this go, but-"

But Arishem had only pushed even harder for Thena to form an alliance with his chosen protege and CEO-to-be.

"What did he say?" Gil asked her softly, guiding her to sit with him on the plush window seat, where they'd spent some of the most important moments of their lives, by this point.

She sighed, wilting against Gil's side. "On my 25th birthday he'll announce our engagement to his associates and the whole world. And if I don't go through with it, he'll disown and ex-communicate me completely from the family."

Gil scowled, "that's a bit harsh, hon. I know your dad's a psycho, but we were pretty sure he wouldn't actually kick you out, right?"

She sighed even more heavily, her shoulders dragging down so far it hurt. "Apparently, I thought wrong."

"Oh, Thena," Gil made a sympathetic face, which was all it took for Thena to move closer, clinging to him. He held her just the way she liked. "I'm sorry."

Perhaps she hadn't been hoping that he would suddenly change his mind on things. But was it so foolish to think that he would want his daughter in his life in some way? And he still didn't know anything about her and Gil, and she intended to keep it that way for Gil's safety.

"I shouldn't be surprised," she conceded quietly as Gil pulled her into his lap. "Father has never hesitated to choose his work over me before. I just thought...I thought for once-!"

Gil kissed her temple, "I know, honey, it's okay."

Was it, though? Not that she had any intention of going through with marrying Kro, but her father was far more powerful than she cared to admit. Even if she didn't want to go into the same line of work, she wasn't sure there was any field of society where she could be guaranteed safety from him.

"Hey," Gil whispered again, tipping her chin back to him. "What do you wanna do?"

Thena sniffed, pressing her tears into his shirt and then shaking them off. "I'm not marrying that cretin."

"Great start, babe," he chuckled, and even got a smile for his efforts. He brushed the last of her tears away, "what else?"

Thena inhaled, trying to wrap her mind around things. "I have my own job prospects, although I'm afraid I wouldn't be surprised if Father was capable of rescinding those, given his influence. I might have to start over, maybe even...somewhere new."

This was her most dreaded reality.

They had always known her father would never let her so much as be alone in a room with him, even as children. It was against all odds they had managed to steal what time they did. They had faced being in different classes in school. They had faced Thena's extracurriculars and Gil getting a part time job to help support his family. They had faced her going into university and Gil starting trade school.

They had even faced her being entrapped into a date set up by Kro and her father.

"Okay, where would you want to go?" Gil asked gently. Despite his smiles and joking tones, he was serious. Because wherever she went, he would follow.

"Gil," she shook her head, new tears arising. "Your mom and Sersi are here, you can't move just because I'm getting thrown out."

"They know I'd go anywhere for you."

Thena smiled against his lips as he kissed her again. For all her father's efforts not to let any love into her life, she had been able to sneak Gil her heart, and he had kept it safe for her ever since.

"Really, Thena, you say the word and I'll pick you up, we can go to Mom's until we figure something out," he suggested with a shrug of his shoulders. His tone was light, but his hand on hers was solid. "You don't have to be scared of him, honey."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm not scared of Father, or Kro."

"That's my girl," he winked at her.

Her smile faded slowly, but it did eventually. She squeezed his hands, "But I am scared to not be with you, Gil. And if Father has me thrown out and cuts off all my accounts?--I struggle to think of how far I would have to go just to find a firm willing to let me intern."

Gil tilted his head at her, letting himself smile again. "You say that like you like being rich."

She rolled her eyes again. She hated when he called her 'rich'.

"You already don't use any of that money you have hidden away," Gil shrugged. It was him who had told her that if she took out a little at a time in cash and stashed it away that she could use it without him knowing about it. "So, take what you can and get outta here. He's gonna kick you out anyway so just...come with me."

Thena stared at his outstretched hand. How many times had she dreamed of this?--Gil offering to help her run away from her father and her gilded cage of a home. The delusional and romantic notion of running away with the boy she loved (now the man she loved).

"You're your own woman, Thena, you don't need his name, or his money, or anything!" Gil urged, eager to pull her spirits out of the pit he could see her spiralling into in real time. "I always knew you'd be a badass lawyer, whether he wanted you to or not!"

Oh, Father wanted her to be lawyer, but one that would make good money. He wanted her to be a corporate lawyer, or even a criminal defense. Not a divorce lawyer who worked pro-bonos all the time.

She shook her head, "I'm just done law school, Gil. I haven't even taken the bar, yet."

"Which you'll nail!" he shrugged like it was nothing at all. "I always knew you would, and your dad knows you will, too. That's why he wants you to marry that creep! Because you're too badass on your own and you could take him any day of the week."

"I do not want anything to do with either of them," she shook her head and pulled her robe tighter around herself. She looked around her room, immaculately cleaned for her, full of expensive clothes picked for her. It was a very personalised hotel room, as far as she was concerned. "I should pack."

"I'll help you."

"It's okay," she whispered, kissing his cheek. "You came for a date, not to help me uproot my life."

"Actually," he chuckled as she stood and went to her desk. "I came after you told me not to, because I knew my girlfriend needed me."

She attempted to contain her smile but couldn't. She loved it when he called her his girlfriend.

"And because I will always be right here, babe," he finished more softly, kissing her hair as she collected up what little of her possessions she actually cared about. "You wanna leave tonight, we'll go. We can go anywhere, do anything. I'll go downstairs and fight your dad bare handed if you want me to."

She gave Gil a dry look. He was big, and strong in every sense of the word, but her father was like an eldritch horror out of a fantasy book.

"Okay, fine," he conceded, pulling out the bag she'd used to sneak herself over to his house plenty of times before. "What else do you need?"

She shoved her work materials into the bag. Her textbooks she could access online, and it wasn't like she could keep them physically after the bar, anyway. She bundled up her laptop and phone charger. "Just the stuff in the top drawer."

Gil unceremoniously opened her dresser and shoved everything from the top shelf in. "We can get you new stuff, too. You know how mom loves to go shopping with you."

Thena smiled; Gil's family always felt more loving than even her most fond memories of her father. "Yes, she does."

"Cash?"

She turned and smiled. Gil had no discomfort with the idea that he was going into carpentry and contracting while she came from an ivory tower. As far as he was concerned, she could rob her father for all he was worth and then be happy to sneak cheap snacks into a movie for a date. "Underwear drawer."

"Ooh!"

"Gilgamesh," she drawled, needing to remind him to grab what was necessary, and not whatever of hers was his favourite.

"Feels kind of exciting, right?" he grinned at her as she zipped the main section of the bag closed, including the cash that could keep her comfortable while she was literally finding her footing. "Like we're running away together?"

"Well," she raised her brows at him as she grabbed her hairbrush, "we are, aren't we?"

"Always said we would," he whispered before kissing her again. "You wanna put something else on or go like this?"

"And climb down that ladder in this?" she scoffed, gesturing to her silky little night dress, "no."

"Aw," Gil faked pouting before laughing, "I'd carry you down if you wanted me to."

"I know you would," she answered from her walk-in closet. She truly wouldn't miss anything from in here. Anything of hers that she liked and Gil liked was in that top dresser drawer, for all the other times she had left in the night like this.

Karun had helped them many, many times before.

"Okay," Gil smiled as she stepped out in a perfectly normal looking white sundress. "Ready?"

"Ready," she nodded, her resolve continuing to firm up with everything they packed. She looked up, "what?"

Gil shook his head, setting the bag down, "you look beautiful."

How she loved him. Thena smiled down at her feet shyly before slipping on the sandals she kept hidden in here. They were her only decent walking shoes. "Okay, let's go."

"Hey, you need one more thing."

"What?" Thena blinked, going over everything they'd packed. She had been planning this escape in the back of her mind for years, she was absolutely certain she wasn't forgetting anything. She looked at Gil.

He smiled at her, equal parts terror and excitement. His hands were shaky as he reached into his pocket and knelt down in front of her. He pulled out the ring box, gulping. "You'll need this."