#that's why he mentions he's guilty

[bluberimufim]

Hi, may a happy STS be upon ya! (as usual I am @writeblr-of-my-own). As of now, what is the best scene you have ever written? Feel free to also share a snippet of the scene in question if you want to!

STS be upon ye!!

What I consider to be the BEST scene I've ever written is in "Black and White", set a few days after Alphonse dies. It's, like, 100% just Diedrich's thoughts about how he feels about the death of his son, when he goes to spend some time with his wife. The narration isn't particularly beautiful, imo, but the feelings always hit me very strongly and the last time I revised it I nearly cried.

Anyway, here's a snippet!

It wasn't what they were used to. Of course it wasn't. It could never be. But something inside him became a thousand times sadder just by being there. It was something in the silence, deeper than it had ever been. Alphonse had never been particularly noisy or talkative, but the ausence of his voice in those rooms was soul-crushing. He wandered around the house, knowing that, around the corner or at the top of the stairs, he wouldn't find his boy. He wouldn't hear him greet him with his soft, low voice. [...] He was constantly haunted by images that took the place of ghosts. He was the man in black and white. He saw Alphonse's body, eyes closed, as serene as if he was asleep, but pale as snow, his red hair standing out like blood. He saw that form that had once been his son and no longer was. But the vision that tormented him the most was that of his grave. He could never forget the letters of his name engraved on the headstone, precise with sharp edges, not yet weathered by time. He never thought he would see something like this in his life. he had never thought he'd see his son's name on that stone, the name that he and Lucille had picked out with all the love in the world. That name would one day end up being used like this. And that was one of the things that bothered him most, besides his own guilt: how wrong it all was.

This scene is a bit longer and every paragraph causes me severe emotional damage, but this is my favourite bit.

I hope you enjoyed it!!!

[vic-does-battlecats]

Tigerstar takes in the RiverClan Rejects (again)

! click the gif for quality that doesn’t suck

[lovesickeros]

☆ decadence divine [ act I ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, neuvillette, furina {☆} notes yandere, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings yandere content, stalking (implied), kidnapping (implied) {☆} word count 2.3k

ARLECCHINO

Arlecchino was wont to leave social gatherings to her subordinates– the private meetings were where she thrived. It was so much easier to lure your prey into a trap when you didn't have prying eyes and ears waiting for the barest hint of blackmail.

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her eyes narrowing beneath the mask of the fox as she set down her cup sharply. It was difficult as it was to draw them from the safety of their bubble– at the slightest hint of danger, her quarry would run. A chase would be fun, but she couldn't risk getting caught here. The political nightmare it would cause..it already gave her a headache. She had to be discreet.

They weren't making it easy, however.

Which is why she never liked crowds. But this chance didn't come by every day. She wasn't going to simply let it pass by because of a little danger. She'd have them eventually, it was just a matter of how. There were already numerous of her own lingering in the crowds, hidden beneath the masks that every patron bore. It was difficult to stand out amongst the flurry of masked patrons constantly shifting around the room, moving from one conversation to another, gliding from one dance partner to another.

Her heeled boots clicked sharply against the tile as she stalked through the crowds, keeping a wide berth yet always lingering nearby– she was sure they could feel the vague sense of being watched, but with the huge crowds..her lips quirked into a grin with the barest flash of teeth. There were a great many ways to break them in– she'd spent a great amount of time and mora to get anything she could for blackmail, if she so wished. She had the backing of the Fatui as well if she played her cards right– it wouldn't be difficult to convince them that they were a valuable target, and none of them would dare to question just what she did with them afterwards.

Perhaps a bit of play, first. Test the waters. She was familiar with playing the polite gentleman, despite her status as a Fatui Harbinger. Stage something for her to intervene, perhaps, to look the hero. The look of shock when she revealed the wolf beneath the wool..she could see it already. That wide, doe-eyed look as they realized the monster they've followed blindly like a lost lamb..she was beginning to see the appeal.

All it took was a few hushed words and subtle signals before the tiles started to fall in place, her hand gliding along their lower back as she leaned over their shoulder with a thin, predatory smile. She'd have to organize for the agent to be released later, her eyes following as the Gardes dragged him out of the room in a flurry of curses, but for now..she tilted her head to peer down at them, polite and almost apologetic.

"You aren't too startled, are you? Now now, there's no need to look so..scared, poor thing. I won't let another lay a hand on you," She cooed in a sickly sweet tone, the husky rasp of her voice whispered in their ear like dripping honey. "You have my word. Now, why don't we get you some fresh air? Come. Allow me to escort you."

Her lips pulled into a jagged grin at the relief in their eyes– the blind lamb following the shepherd as it led them into it's maw. Just a little longer, and she could finally have her own caged bird– a pretty thing to admire, to protect, to possess.

Something no one else would ever touch again. Something hers.

NEUVILLETTE

Neuvillette was not one for parties. The intricacies and delicate handling of public relations he oft left in the capable hands of Furina, rather then himself. It was only at her behest he even attended at all, but he still felt rather..out of place amongst the bodies constantly shifting through the ballroom like a constant rush of water from one end to the other, no rhyme nor reason to the flow. The only thing that kept him afloat among the tides was the mask of the deer obscuring his face– even if it was exceedingly difficult to truly hide himself among the crowds, most passed over him without second thought.

Though he had to be honest with himself, even if he couldn't bring himself to admit it to Furina despite her insistence that his attendance was mandatory. He had his own reasons for coming– selfishness that left a sour taste in his mouth. It was purely by chance he'd seen the briefest glimpse of them prior, and he..was intrigued, that was all.

He refused to let his thoughts linger on the sleepless nights he spent prying every piece of information he could from loose tongues and obscure documents, every moment he managed to squeeze in between trials spent lingering in their most favored locations– cafes, stores, restaurants, the like.

Now a masquerade.

He tried not to let the guilt gnaw at his conscious, but it lingered like an age old scar that still ached.

So he relegated himself to simply residing in the further corner, nursing a goblet of water like a fine wine, trying not to let his eyes stray to the brief glimpses of them through the ever moving bodies filling the center of the room, dancing like puppets in music boxes.

Still, his hand twitched in an instinctual desire– a need to clasp his hand in their own, to touch his lips upon their knuckles, to indulge in a moment of reprieve and unshackle himself from the mantle that bears heavy upon his shoulders. He seeks reverence, worship, but not of himself– but towards the one who had drawn the eye of the dragon amongst the waves of humans he'd seen come and go for a great many years.

No one could compare, he is certain. None have left him as breathless, as hopelessly infatuated, as the one who made him wish only to kneel at their feet in senseless reverence until he could no longer speak. A hopeless man, indeed, if he has never even truly met them.

Instead he's spent his time prying into their life from the shadows. Caution, or simple cowardice?

He dares not ponder.

Yet in his ceaseless pondering he'd blocked out the world without, failing to notice the figure stepping up beside him until their hand brushed against his elbow– just the briefest touch, but it had his pupils narrowing and his entire body tensing like a coiled spring. That touch..bliss. It left him breathless and lightheaded as he tilted his head to regard them, his lips parting in a shaky sigh. They are as beautiful as he remembers– even with their face obscured beneath the mask, he would never forget them.

"Greetings, Monsieur– I hope I didn't frighten you too much." Their laugh made him feel rather faint, just the sound of their voice making his hand tighten around his cane. "..Not at all. I was simply lost in thought." He admitted apologetically, trying to reign in the urge to cup their face between his palms. A dangerous thought. He didn't want to scare them off when they'd provided him a priceless opportunity.

"My apologies, you must have needed something. It was rude of me to have been so absorbed in my thoughts to have ignored you." He continued, gently turning to set his goblet down– offer them his full attention, be a gentleman. The words rang in his skull like a ceaseless alarm, blaring and rattling his thoughts as he gently took their hand in his own. It was a split second decision– an indulgence, but he could simply not help himself. Even with his gloves between them, he felt like he was going to lose his composure just from such a brief touch..

He truly was a hopeless man before an altar, praying for a salvation he intends to bury deep beneath the waves– to keep it hidden in the darkness of the depths that only he can reach. A selfish man, he must be, to even think of it, but it is an itch that he cannot scratch. A need that must be satisfied. He cannot allow any hands but his own to tend to them, to know what it feels to touch them, to hear their voice and see their eyes as he prays– prays like a man starved, devotion born of desperation.

"I hope I did not make you wait too long." He smiles, soft and affectionate, like the bloom of spring beneath the winters chill– yet just as deadly, only masked by the sweet fragrance of flowers.

He had waited too long.

No longer.

FURINA

Furina was right at home amongst the crowds– where the masks obscured the identities of most, it was impossible to not recognize the charming banter of the Hydro Archon beneath the mask of the lamb as she graced the masquerade with her presence, speaking with a silver tongue to any who would listen. A truly enthralled audience fitting for the grandest of performers in Fontaine.

But her eyes lingered not on the people who's praise dripped from their lips like honey– yet so very bitter upon her tongue. Even the mask obscuring her expression did little to hide the longing that had her visibly deflating like a popped balloon. She hated all the eyes on her, really– it was suffocating. She was only putting on a show in the foolish hope that they'd finally pay attention to her. Just her luck, she supposes, that instead she's had to throw herself straight into the role of Archon without a pay off..

They hadn't even spared her a glance! It would be infuriating if not for the fact she couldn't even keep her composure just seeing them across the room. They didn't even have to look at her and she could feel the heat rush to her ears as she forced another smile at the crowd gathered around her. It was unfair how easily they could fluster her without even knowing it– her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage she felt like it might burst.

Her only solace was the fact none of the patrons seemed to realize she'd clocked out of the conversation, her thoughts and eyes lingering on the distant figure– what a lovestruck fool she makes..it was a chance encounter she'd seen them during one of her outings. That was all it took to enthrall her, evidentially, try as she might to have ignore it for months.

They never left her mind for longer then a day, in the end, and she had to face the fact they had managed to enrapture her so deeply she felt like a newborn lamb learning to walk whenever she so much as thought of them. What an embarrassment! She..she was the Archon, she had a reputation to maintain, she couldn't be seen fawning over a human.

But oh, she still longed for it, beneath the veneer of a God. She'd watched them more times then she'd admit even to herself, wishing to find herself in place of those who'd hands were cradled so casually in their own– to hear their voice, their laughter, as often as she pleased..like a fine delicacy she so badly wished to taste, yet so far from her reach.

Would they think her pathetic for her infatuation? She pursed her lips at the thought, trying to bury the sour mood beneath her faux image of the Archon. Yet it lingered, and with only the quietest of excuses, she slipped into the crowd like a ghost– she needed to leave before she did something..stupid. Neuvillette would surely have a few choice words with her if she did, and she was inclined to avoid such a fate.

She..she just needed a moment to collect herself was all. That was it. She could go back to playing Archon for a little longer, she just needed a moment to herself. At the very least, the balcony had been regarded as off limits so late into the party– which gave her an opportunity to slip out of the public view for the briefest of moments. A welcome reprieve– she was starting to feel suffocated amongst the crowds.

Perhaps on instinct, she reached for the mask, lifting ever so slightly away..only to let out a startled yelp at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, the mask slipping back into place far too easily. It made her lightheaded, even now, but she dared not to dwell on it.

But when she turned sharply on her heel to chew out the person who'd followed her and had the gall to scare her..oh, she was done for, her ears flush with heat. The brief glimpse of their eyes beneath the mask, the curl of their lips as they smiled– her heart stuttered in her chest, and she was certain it had stopped all together when they clasped her hand.

"Y–you.." She wanted to be angry, to brush them off and leave with her rationality in tact, but the warmth of their hands on her skin rendered her speechless. She was no better then a fish on land, struggling to fill her lungs with air as she drew in a shaky breath. "Ahem, you caught me off guard. That's all. Surely you do not make it a habit to sneak up on people?" She huffed in indignation, trying to mask the fluster that threatened to break through her carefully crafted facade.

Ah, what a cruel twist of fate..she'd slipped away to escape their allure, but here they were, dragging her back into their orbit without even knowing how deep her infatuation ran. They were alone, too..it was a chance she wasn't sure she'd ever get again.

Maybe, just this once, she could do something for herself rather then everyone else.

She buried her guilt, the fear– buried it beneath the need to be seen.

"But if you want to make it up to me.."

[moeblob]

Right and his work menaces (Brent and Karen).

I don't remember last I mentioned it but apart from crude nicknames to people (except Chris), he also just puts them in his phone really weird (except Chris, who is literally in his phone as Chris). And I bring this up because in Right's phone, Karen is saved as "Lawful Obligation".

[gentlelass]

Combined prompts suggested by @wtjaden and @ahhhh-118!

[kitsquared]

Both directed at Phineas

The first image is panic over the news of what happened to Pereshati.

The second one belies unspoken anger for suggesting she leave the Lapileons for her safety.

Two expressions a day or two apart from each other.

One has Therdeo going to his uncle for help. For guidance. Like he used to do when he was younger. (He's gripping the letter from the carrier pigeon in his fist in a previous panel. He went straight to Phineas first).

The other brings up his quiet resentment at Phineas for leaving the family. For Therdeo who had stayed and endured the family's burdens. To impose authority over his uncle's judgement.

I love how this image draws you into the authority he has with his height, pose, dress. The lighting, him centered and tall in a long vertical panel.

He looks older here ? And quite often he speaks to Phineas alone with his hair down and not parted, casual clothes; he always looks younger and more vulnerable, showing Phineas' role as the elder guardian.

It's sad because the reason Phineas did not leave the family again was for Therdeo, who asked him not to go and to help him.

Phineas has also been concerned over Therdeo obediently taking on the title of Grand Duke at such a young age and fulfilling duties without thought to his own desires.

And it is Phineas who was overjoyed and relieved to have lived long enough to see Therdeo find something he wanted and worth fighting for.

For Pereshati to become precious to him as well. For her to become someone past being of use to figuring out the family's curse.

But now Therdeo has even threatened him. (The shadow of the sword!!)

Which is excessive, and I think is an effect from a lot of the recent situations and fear of losing her to the point of near possessiveness (his way of dealing things about Harari).

more ramblings under the cut

#and you cant doubt that Therdeo is clouding his judgement of Pereshati's safety#there were 3-4 separate scenes showing his reaction towards the shackles on her feet#the relief he had when she said she was only thinking of him when he was the reason she went through this says a lot#he knowss.. but given how less composed and more erratic his actions are lately ( not surprising with the situations)#it's clear what lengths he would go to for her whether for better or for worse#and phineas' concern is extremely valid. we were all throwing our hands up when she got kidnapped man

(I wrote down these tags down and decided to keep them)

Truly, Pereshati did so much for them. It's interesting that her kindness and recklessness due to her kindness has been a thing since she was young and now resurfaces in her interactions with the Lapileons that have both Phineas and Adeus questioning her place in the family.

If she does so much for a stranger, how far will she go for the Lapileons? if the shackles are any indication

[rabarbarzcukrem]

In the scene with Louis in the coffin, Armand openly asks him about Paris, with full assumption that Louis knows about the part he played in Claudia's death. But it seems like Louis doesn't remember the fire in Dubai.

Did Armand alter Louis' memories of San Francisco and figured that hey, he might as well go all the way and remove some of Paris?

[lurking-latinist]

.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about fallout 4 against my will

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

mv x er question that you may have answered. Where does their journey start since Arthur could have succumbed to the frenzied flame at any point on his journey and now doesn't remember much. Are they starting at the chapel of anticipation?

RIGHT NOW what i'm imagining is that arthur goes through the chapel like normal, dies to the grafted scion, and then when he wakes up afterwards in the cave (or maybe on the beach? they've never really explained how you get from the chapel to the cave so i like the interpretation that you were originally supposed to just wash up on the limgrave beach lol) john is there. i feel like that makes sense?

as in, the inciting incident that led to the flame finding him was probably waking up in the chapel, walking outside, and then immediately being pounced on and slaughtered by a fucked up abomination manspider. this i feel would be a pretty good straw that broke the camel's back in terms of making him (temporarily) go "fuck it why am i even bothering to try anymore. wtf did grace even want with me. no. i quit. call someone else i'm just gonna lie here and die."

HOWEVER the idea of him having been around as a tarnished for a little while before that is also very fun... possibly running into people who recognize him but that he doesn't know... hmm...

[probablygayattorneys]

Other people Yanni Yogi could have thought they were framing when he got a letter detailing how to get revenge on “the two people who ruined [his] life”

-his bitch ex-wife and her sister, for obvious reasons

-his children, for being born

-his parents, for having him

-the president and vice-president of the HOA, unclear for why but it’s always their fault

-Obama and Biden, for raising taxes (I mean he’s not in that tax bracket, but Rush Limbaugh told him to be mad about it)

-that guy who cut him off in traffic and his passenger, for obvious reasons

People he should NOT have immediately assumed the letter meant:

-the guy who kept him out of prison for murder and a LITERAL CHILD

[yuridovewing]

Sorry to be like that but I’m noticing the parallels between Billystorm and Sandstorm’s deaths. They’re both the leader’s mate and died a tragic completely avoidable death far away from their families and are buried in a random unmarked grave where no one will be able to visit them. And how Billystorm is treated with significantly more respect than Sandstorm was.

[pandoraroid]

mosnster from the epic Underworld saga but it's Porter Solaire

[icouldbeyourprettygirl]

OKAY I texted him!! I feel like I’ve committed a crime 🫠

[leatherbookmark]

an interesting thing abt jgy antis is like. where is the source of their, shall we say, negative opinion of jgy? like, 1. jgy is a villain, he does horrible things with no remorse, he’s willing to do everything to achieve his selfish, egotistical goals. --> 2. the source of this claim: this, this and this scene. --> 3. alright, but to me -- says someone who’s not an anti -- this reads differently. that he did all those things, and did them on purpose and without remorse, is not that obvious to me. why do you think that? --> 4. well, obviously because he’s a villain and does horrible things with no remorse.

like... he’s evil because he does bad things, and he does bad things because he’s evil. i’m interested in how antis came by those opinions, but a, unfortunately i have them all blocked, and b, even if i or someone else made a poll, it wouldn’t be authentic because no sane anti is going to say “well, people hated him and wrote all those things about him on twt, so i started hating him as well”, or “i only care about wgxn, you could sell me anything about other characters if your arguments were convincing enough because i zoned out during the parts when wgxn weren’t on screen/pages of the book”. it’s all “written in the book/shown in the show” and “logical arguments you’d agree with if only you could read”.

[bruhstation]

Why Gordon Saved Henry's Life ?

I believe you mean the luck fiend! even though he merely took on henry's appearance (which made gordon despise him the moment he went honest about it), gordon just feels uncomfortable at the thought of him getting hurt. the luck fiend has henry's face, talks like henry, has a softspoken yet blunt personality just like henry, but.... he's not henry.

also gordon has has enough of seeing people die in front of him lol even though he initially hated the luck fiend he can't stand having to watch someone that looked just like his old partner die