#only a little bit tho

[lgbtlunaverse]

See the thing about me is that I do care about characters' morality but it's more in the sense of wanting to understand their moral framework and why they take the actions they do. And because of that i'm always sympathetic to morally grey characters and try to look at things from their perspective, but I don't expect the other characters in the story- who unlike me are actually affected by each other's actions- to feel the same way.

For example, I care deeply about nie mingjue and the inherent tragedy of how he's been trapped by his own circumsances and his genuine will to do the right thing and can see how his reliance on punitive justice was created by the environment he's grown up in and the responsibility he holds towards his people and i don't think, in any stretch of the word, that he deserved to die or that it was in fact necessary to kill him.

However i do not expect jin guangyao, guy who was just kicked down the stairs, to see all the nuances here.

In the same sense, i can see how jgy's "self preservation above all else" mindset was forged by a world that expected him to die for their convenience how his avoidance of accounability for his actions was created out of necessity because any punishment levied against him would be disporportionate due to his heritage. How punishing him wouldn't actually make the world a better place or him a better person and how his violence is always reactive and that as long as he feels safe eneough to do so, the thing that he really wants to do is help people.

But I don't expect Huaisang, guy whose brother just got murdered, to give a fuck about any of that.

And I think this is why I'm annoyed with a lot of "is [insert character] a good/bad person" discourse because a lot of it gets framed as "If A is bad, the other characters in universe should hate them. If A is good, the other characters should be sympathetic to them, and if they're not then they're bad." And that is just... not how this works.

[littleplantfreak]

Witch Togame who doesn’t really act like a witch, at least from where you can figure. He’s your neighbor so you only see bits and pieces of his life, but you’re sure he’s a little weird.

He’s got a cat familiar, but it seems like he runs the show more than Togame ever does, dragging him around as the cat’s blonde fluffy hair bounces in time with him. The cat, who you find out is named Choji, stays partially human as far as you’ve seen. Sometimes when you’re making dinner, you think the cat who dips in under your window to beg for food might be him, but if it is, it’s mirthful eyes are the only thing that could maybe confirm it, if just a bit.

The only broom Togame ever used was to sweep the front porch of his house and when he sees you runny nosed and sneezing from a cold he runs into his house and grabs a bag of regular cold medicine, no potions or charms to speak of. When you ask he just shrugs telling you he could make something, but if this works just as good, why go through the extra steps?

He says that, but when you see the ghost of a cat tail swishing past your bedroom windowsill, a small sachet laying there, its presence already making you breathe easier, you think real witch or not he’s pretty sweet.

[wandavicky]

Where Fate Lies

Summary: I can't stop thinking about what it was like between Rio found Agatha's location and showing up at her door. Also can't stop thinking about Mother Hahn saying their love is so strong they can reach each other through the spell.

Pair: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal

Type: maybe a little bit of angst but full of love

TW: Mention of dead body (nothing graphic), dead son (nicky</3), grief

Word count: 2083

*

The moment it happened, the moment Rio felt it, it was almost as if everything in the world abruptly halted.

Rio was in the middle of work, in an abandoned house near a lake, where some idiots decided was a good place to ditch a body. Annoyed, and disgusted by the condition of the cabin, but overall it was a less busy day, which is rare in her line of work.

And then it happened.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips. A shiver sent down her spine. A wave of warmth poured into her hollowed heart. Something in the air shifted, she can feel it now, she can feel her now. For the first time in 172 years 6 months and 23 days, Agatha Harkness's presence pierced her senses like a stab in the chest - ticklish, painful, exciting, and familiar.

Rio is not easily fazed, but since Agatha walked away and abandoned her in the worst way imaginable, she has been trying everything, everything to find her whereabouts. She wanted to find her, talk to her, hug her, and mourn the loss of their son together. She wanted to go through it all with her, be there for each other, and get back on their feet, together, like they vowed. But she couldn't. After a while she decided to bury herself in work, every time there was a new body to reap, she wondered if it would be that familiar face she used to kiss goodnight every night. She is terrified of the idea, but not as terrified of the thought that she might never see her face again.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!" Rio screams angrily until every last bit of air is drained out from her lungs. Everyone within a 5-mile distance will be able to hear her, luckily there is no one remotely nearby.

She stumbles onto the ground from the sudden blood pressure change, her chest pumping rapidly, fighting for air. She pats down her waist to make sure her dagger is still in place. "Ok, Rio, think!"

She quickly regains her composure, as much as she can, at least.

Rio looks at the Mr. Where's his face next to her on the floor. There is no time for this.

I have to find her.

Shit.

Rio remembered something. If she can sense her, they all can. God, fucking Witch Killer.

When Rio snapped back to reality, she was already inside her car.

I have to find her, before they do.

"Fucking Agatha." She clicks her tongue, stepping all the way on the pedal.

Rio tries to take in some deep breaths and focus on the steering wheel, but her mind says otherwise.

Fragments of their life start piecing themselves together - Nicky's laughter when they play hide and seek, Agatha's fingers combing her hair, the forevers they pictured together tumbling through her guts. What is at Westview? Has she ever regretted it? Has she ever thought about me? About us? Felt sorry for leaving and hiding? Has she ever wondered? What has she been doing? Is she still trying...to bring Nicholas back? Or has she moved on? Are the wounds all healed? Did she start a new life? Did she find someone else?

Rio cursed silently at the thought of that.

Her eyes narrowed, trying to focus on the road as she changed between different lanes and overtook everyone blocking her way.

It still took her a few hours to make it to the Westview interchange, despite the fact that she was driving way above the speed limit.

"Welcome to Westview." Rio reads the word on the big sign. Maybe Agatha Harkness has changed, why else would she live in a small town like this? But why did she stop hiding? Did she forgive her?

A loud bang brings her back from her thoughts, her eyes widen to see she just rear-ended someone at the worst timing.

An old lady in a floral dress steps out of the car, yelling something at her.

Ugh! It didn't take Rio more than a split second to decide to tighten her grip on the wheel and drive off the road. "Sorry, I don't have time for this!" she yells back while driving away from the scene. She can't be dealing with this right now, especially not after she panicked at the lake house and threw her work into her trunk.

Rio slammed on the brakes in front of Agatha's house. A sigh of relief slipped out of her, but it didn't last long.

What am I supposed to say? Hi, remember me? No!

Rio bumps her forehead on the steering wheel a few times trying to keep herself together.

There is no time to waste, she just has to put on her usual act as best as she can.

"Here we go." She stops in front of the door, the thought of another person being with Agatha disgusts her, but after a short conflict, she decides to knock instead of breaking in.

Knock, knock.

It feels like another hundred years have passed waiting for that door to be opened.

"Ah, you."

Here comes the woman she hasn't stopped thinking of for the last centuries. God, she looks...just like she remembered. Rio wants to pull out her dagger and stab the woman in the stomach right here right now, but she can't.

Way too many emotions and memories are flashing through her head right now for her to sense Agatha's weird demeanor. Still, she managed to squeeze out a little "Hi."

"Agent Rio Vadal," Agatha let Rio in the house with her arms crossed, "What brings a hotshot like you in our crappy small town?"

Rio's heart stopped. No way. No way- Agent? Does Agatha...forget? Everything?

"Oh, I see." Agatha takes her to her study and sits behind her desk with papers and photos scattered around. "You're here for the case."

Rio opens her mouth, but the words fall back from her tongue once she realizes Agatha is not pretending. Frustration and helplessness washed up on her and formed a tight knot in her throat. This is not Agatha. Not her Agatha.

"I'm-" Rio pinched her thigh to stop her voice from shaking, "I'm here for the case, yes."

"Well, the forensic team is running a test on the blood sample, but here is what we have so far." Agatha hands Rio some local supermarket advertisements. "I'll let you know when we have more to tell. Now, get out of my office."

Rio blinks twice after Agatha shoves her out of the room and closes the door on her face.

She looks down at the paper in her hand, in big bold font, "Wanda", "Darkhold", and "The Scarlet Witch" is written all over it.

"Well." At least one question is answered.

Rio spins around, trying to make sense of where exactly she is. The house is....not Agatha, not even if she is insane or under a spell, or both. She walks around the house trying to gather more information. Her heart drops when she sees the name on the door down the hallway.

'Nicky'

Rio questions herself as she stands perfectly still, unable to move a limb, but the thought is quickly shaken off her head, she knows better, she took Nicky herself. And she doesn't make mistakes.

Still, her shaky hand on the doorknob gives her away. With a few deep breaths, she opens the door.

"Nicholas..." The name leaves Rio's lips for the first time in centuries.

The room is set up like she remembered, every piece of drawings she didn't even know she remembered until this moment. Her fingers brush over the edge of the drawings, she can almost hear Nicholas' little voice saying 'Mama, look!'. Her heart clenched together. Grief comes at her like a heavy punch in the gut, every tiny decoration reopens a wound and burns her heart, forcing her to sit silently on the bed. Somehow Agatha managed to preserve a memory she thought was lost forever.

Rio doesn't realize she is crying until she sees the wet teardrop stain on her pants. Breaking down in her deceased son's room while Agatha's mind is trapped under a spell is not the reunion she always imagined - she has to break her out, she has to play along.

Rio picks up the plaque Nicky got when he sang at the children's choir, the corner of her mouth tugs up. He was so nervous that day, it was his first time performing in public, but Rio told her to keep his eyes on her and Agatha when he was on the stage, and he would be fine - which he did. They stopped by the ice cream shop on their way home to celebrate his award. They were so proud of him.

Rio wipes the tear off her face with her fingers after putting the plaque back. A ceramic rabbit catches her eyes. She picks it up and flips it over.

'Happy 3 year old birthday, Nicky. Love, mommy & mama'

Rio bites the inside of her cheek to stop herself from making any weeping noise. She puts the ceramic rabbit securely in the pocket of her jacket.

She looks at the room one last time before closing the door behind her.

Now, she has to break Agatha out of the spell before all her enemies find her.

Rio closes her eyes, picturing herself as Agatha's 'Agent Vidal', and when she opens her eyes again, she is already wrapped in an FBI type of outfit.

"Well." She unbuttons the top three buttons on her shirt before knocking on the door of Agatha's office. "Where's the blood report, detective?"

Agatha looks up and eyes a folder on top of the stack of files. "Came back thirty minutes ago, nothing unusual. No DNA match."

"Hm." Rio opens the folder to find some Ikea furniture instructions. This isn't going to work, she needs to try something stronger.

Rio pinches the bridge of her nose. Wanda Maximoff, the Scarlet Witch, Darkhold. Now, she knows Wanda Maximoff is dead because she personally- This is it!

"Detective, can you show me photos of the crime scene?"

"What, your fancy bureau doesn't provide you with anything?" Agatha raises a brow and throws Rio, who's now sitting across her, another folder.

"Thank you." Rio tosses the first folder back into the pile of folders and opens the new one. Drawings of a stick person with two x as eyes and a p as their mouth, of course.

Rio digs up a red pen from Agatha's desk and adds long hair to the stick person. Just for the dramatic effect she also adds droplets of blood coming out their mouth. She then flips the paper over, and draws the exact painting of the stick person on it, with the name 'Wanda Maximoff' written below it.

She picks up a notepad nearby and puts it next to her ear, "Vidal. Umhm. Yeah, I see. Thank you."

"Please tell me you have good news." Agatha stares at Rio.

"We ID her, she's in one of our databases." Rio hands the folder back to Agatha with the picture she just drew. "Wanda Maximoff, also known as the Scarlet Witch." Agatha's quiver at the name mentioned doesn't slip Rio's eyes, but she continues, "Wanda Maximoff is dead, Agatha."

"I'm not-" Agatha stops and mumbles quietly, "Agatha..."

Agatha's hand trembles as she grabs the drawing and stares for a good moment before finally looking up at Rio, eyes full of tears, "Wanda...Scarlet Witch...is dead?"

Rio nods slowly, "Dead, and taken by death."

This is not the first time Rio saves Agatha, and if she allows it, it won't be the last time either, at least not when her enemies can be breaking in any minute now.

Agatha tries to stand up but immediately falls back into the chair, her head is too dizzy trying to process the information.

An annoying red and blue light flashes through the window, reminding Rio of the car crash earlier, and Mr. Where's his face is still folded in half in her trunk. Rio knows it's only a matter of time before Agatha figures it out. For now, she has to handle her business.

"I have to go, Agatha," Rio peeps outside the window and looks at the still-shocked Agatha. "I'll be back in an hour or two."

"Te veo." Before Rio leaves the room, she remembers something. "Stay where you are until I'm back. Please."

[justvico]

here is a doodle dump i’m learning to draw hater and then sylvia

[redstarcat]

Some OC stuff

COMMISSIONS | WEBSITE | BLUESKY | TWITTER

[jeysbvck]

THE LOCAL POLICE

THE BODY CAM FOOTAGE

IM FUCKING SCREAMING

[fakevariety]

i burned my finger :(

[windwenn]

In a shocking turn of events user @/windwenn has posted a seasonal artwork... late???

[nonbinary-catboy]

Oh we're so getting Cecil lore this season

[the-marat-multiverse]

A snapshot/montage fic of all the different extracurriculars that Max gets sent to during the school years!

[vampbilee]

can i request pixels themed arounddd penguins and/or like snow & ice & related stuff? :3

-🐧

sure! heres some penguin/snow related pixels, hope they are what you imagined.

[dressycobra7]

@brave-and-gentle dude this is so cute 😭

@shat-on-the-dick @reinersluvrr @keischreiber thought u guys might like this too 👀

The first time you laid your eyes on him, your heart skipped a beat. It felt like the crowded training ground was now totally empty excepting you and him. He was tall, strong and handsome, the bad boy type. You were attracted to him like a magnet but he looked too cool to be with you.

The first time you talked to him, you were more than anxious. You two were paired up to practice sparing. His bigger frame looked even more imposing as he was standing right in front of you. Your heart was beating fast in your ribcage, menacing to get out of it. He spoke to you first, greeting you in a weirdly friendly way. His voice sounded deep but actually quite comforting, it felt like if he sensed your nervousness and tried to sooth it down. He actually did not look so mean to you after that.

The first time you two kissed, it felt just right. His hands were a bit sweaty and you realized that he was quite shy. His fingers held your waist with a surprising gentleness, almost like he was scared to hurt you. His nonchalant attitude crumbled to reveal a softer one. Your lips moved slowly against his, your body burning with passion. 

The first time he cried in front of you, you understood how many feelings he bottled up over the years. The raw pain and fear in his eyes had you speechless for a moment. When your thumb gently ran on his cheek to wipe his tears, he cried harder. He stayed in your arms for hours, vulnerable like he never been before. Vulnerable because he was worried that this side of him would repulse you. In respond, you took his hand in his, a silent promise to be there no matter what. 

The first time he almost lost you, you saw his anger. Not toward you but toward himself for failing to protect you. He kept you close for the next missions, not able to sleep correctly at nights and waking up every hour just to make sure you are still breathing next to him. His eyes studied your features, remembering every imperfections that made you perfect. During those moments, he promised himself to protect you no matter what it cost.  

The first time you made love with him, you witnessed how much passion he held for you. His lips kissed every inch of your body, savoring the feeling and the taste of your warm skin. He took his time to please you, doing everything he could to make this night unforgettable. His fingers left a warm trail of pleasure wherever they went, taking your breath away. You should have felt nervous and scared when he spread your legs but you did not. You felt safe and loved with him, so did he. He kept whispering in your ear praises while moving, his fingers intertwining with yours when your bubble of pleasure finally popped. Your bodies remained close as you drifted toward sleep, your breathes calming down gradually. 

The first time he held the little bundle in his big arms, you noticed how much of a softie he is with tears coming up to his eyes. Looking at him standing there with your child made your heart clench at a new feeling. The feeling of accomplishment. You made it all the way with him, through the good and the bad days. The only regret you had was that you judged him way too fast the first day you saw him. Because if it was not the coach who paired you two up, maybe you would have never kissed, dated, married but mostly saw who he truly is.

You open your eyes after letting the memories flow back in your head, your eyes falling on him who's resting beside you. He gives you a curious look, raising an eyebrow.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Just how lucky I am to have Reiner Braun in my life."

[inkskinned]

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.

[nabanna]

you ever embroider something with a little too much vigor and accidentally stab your boob

[but-a-humble-selfshipper]

I feel like Seam's "funny little man" quota is met and overdone with Jevil but they feels pretty neutral towards Spamton too. At first it was awkward but with time I think they'd be able to hold a solid convo and even talk about business . . . 🥺

[hinamie]

realizing how much i like drawing him a million years too late :<