#this is probably quite ooc

[leifyposting]

Rosaria is not usually this transparent.

She isn’t Barbara, who wears her heart on her sleeve, or Jean, who does not count lying among her many talents. She isn’t even Kaeya, whose intricate masks and careful dissembling only hold up as long as the wind doesn’t blow too hard.

Rosaria is impassive, unreadable, barely even there. She’s spent enough years learning how to let people’s eyes slide right off her. It turns out that you can wear fishnets and claw rings and people will still let themselves ignore you if you give them the right excuse.

But she has been drinking, tonight — not quite to the edge of tipsy, but close, right on the line where the lights are warmer and the wine is sweeter and the chatter of the bar patrons tips from grating to almost melodic.

And so maybe she lets her eyes linger, just a little, on the broad back and flaming hair of tonight’s bartender. 

No one would blame her if they caught the way her gaze flits over to him and away, one stolen glance every couple of minutes. Diluc cuts a dashing figure in his bartender’s uniform: all straight lines and stark contrasts, his red hair bright against the white of his vest. He carries himself with a quiet composure born of physical power and a bank vault full of cash. Half the people in this tavern have been ogling him all evening; she’s still not sure if he’s truly oblivious or willfully blind. 

As she watches, he slides a drink over to the Traveler at the end of the bar, waving away the offer of payment. He wipes down the counter with a practiced hand before tossing the cloth over his shoulder once more. Then he turns back, and Rosaria doesn’t look away quite quick enough to stop their gazes from catching and holding. 

Diluc’s gaze burns like the embers of a campfire, low and controlled, but with the promise of destruction unleashed. For a long second, he watches her watching him. 

Then he smiles. 

It’s a different smile from the confident one he gives her in the middle of the night when they’re on a manhunt, or the rueful shouldn’t-have-let-my-guard-down grin he sports when he’s taken an injury he should have been able to dodge. 

This smile is small, meant just for her: the corner of his mouth quirks up, boyish and almost shy, and for a moment Rosaria catches a glimpse of the young man who’d brought Mondstadt to its knees. 

He’s so godsdamned pretty it makes her throat tight. Despite her better judgement, Rosaria finds herself smiling back. 

She suppresses her smile as soon as she registers it — but Kaeya has always been too perceptive for his own good. 

“Playing with fire there, Rosaria,” he murmurs once Diluc turns away. He leans an elbow on the bar counter and fixes her with an unreadable smile. 

“What do you mean?” she asks evenly, taking a swig of her wine.

Kaeya looks unimpressed by her attempt at deflection. “Falling in love with him is a bad idea.”

“I’m not in love with him,” Rosaria says. She realizes too late that this too is a confession. She ought to have asked who he meant; she’s shown her hand too early.

“Sure,” Kaeya says, serious for once. “But you’re getting there.”

“Am not.”

He shakes his head at her. “I wouldn’t get too close, if I were you. He burns everything he touches.”

Kaeya was her first real friend in Mondstadt. She knows what Diluc did — in broad strokes, if not in detail. It definitely makes her a bad friend that she likes him anyway. 

Kaeya’s lone visible eye tracks Diluc’s movement as he weaves his way through the bar, clearing tables. “The thing is, he doesn’t mean to,” he says, his voice low and almost affectionate. “He tries so hard, you know? He’d try, if you asked him to.”

“I’m not asking him shit. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“He just always ends up destroying things anyways,” he continues as if she hadn’t spoken, his fingers tracing lines of frost on the condensation of his glass, his eye still fixed on the back of Diluc’s head. “It tears him apart, but good intentions don’t restore what’s been broken.”

He looks back at her. For a moment she thinks she sees wildfire flames licking at the deep blue of his visible eye, before they resolve into the gentle glow of the lamps that light the Angel’s Share. “I know you’re not going to listen to me,” he says, and smiles mirthlessly. “You can make your own decisions, of course. But be careful, alright? I’d hate to see you hurt in the course of protecting Mondstadt.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Rosaria knows it as soon as it leaves his lips. 

Because no matter how bad Diluc is, Rosaria is worse. Kaeya has forgotten that frost burns too. 

Diluc is a fine, upstanding citizen, the uncrowned king of Mondstadt. Rosaria is a scrappy orphan at the mercy of the Church. Diluc has a bent for justice and a mission to take care of the weak. Rosaria only knows revenge.

Kaeya forgets — or ignores, because he is a good friend, and he cares for her in his own way — that Rosaria deserves nothing but destruction and pain. Everything she has received from Mondstadt has been at the cost of its citizens. She owes a debt she can never repay; if she takes some injury in the course of protecting this country, it will simply be what she deserves. 

She lays a hand on Kaeya’s arm and watches him jolt. “Getting burned is part of the job.”

“Of protecting Mondstadt?” He sounds skeptical. “The nation has never asked that of you.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Someone’s gotta do it. Don’t act like you haven’t sacrificed for Mondstadt too.”

“Oh, I won’t pretend I haven’t,” he says lightly. “But I’m a hedonist, you know — I’ll always pick pleasure over pain.”

She laughs, opting not to call him on this obvious lie. “I guess that makes me a masochist, because I don’t care if I get hurt.” 

“I care,” he mutters, then sighs. “Look, you’re a grown-up. If you want to flirt with the sun, I won’t stop you. I just reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ when your wax wings go up in smoke.”

“I’ll be careful,” Rosaria promises. 

(Across the tavern, Diluc laughs at something Venti says, low and rolling and resonant. The eyes of half of Mondstadt follow the sound, and Rosaria has never been one to go with the crowd, but in this and this only—)

Kaeya rolls his eyes, shrugging her hand off his arm. “No, you won’t.”

“No,” she agrees, and grins. “I won’t.”

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

Want emotional support?

Anyways here's some space themed stuff if you're a dark mode user.

　.　　　　　　. 　 　　.　　　　　　.　　.　　　　  　　　　　　   　　　　.　　.　　　　　　　.　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ .　　　•　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　   　• 　　　˚　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　   .　　　　　　.　　☄　　 . •　　　　　　　　　    .　      　　　.　　      .  　　　　　　　　.　　　　　. • 　　　　　　　　.　　. 　 　　•　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　　.　　　 .　 　　🪐　　 　　.　　　　　　　　　　.　　   　 .　　　.　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ　  　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　,　　　　　　　.　　　　　.　    　　　　 　　　　　.　 　　 　✦　　　　　. 　 　　•　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　　.　　　 　 　　　　🌘 　　　.　　　　　　　　　.　　   　 .　　　.　　　　.　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ　  　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　,　　　　　　　.　　　　　　    　　　　 　　　　　.　 　　 　✦　　　　　✦ .　　　•　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　   　• 　　　˚　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　   　　　　　　.　　☄　　  . •　　.　　　　　　　    .　      　　　.　　        　　.　　　　　　.　　　. 　　 　✦　　　　　✦ .　　　•　 　　　　　

-Multiverse Anon

regretfully i can not see it as i am not a dark mode user but i hope others can enjoy the view of space :D

[wizerdbattle]

I very badly wanted Jo to have a hashtag feminism arc where she latched onto Poppy and acted as her assistant... the power would go to Poppy's head and Jo would slowly absorb pieces of Poppy's terrible personality and they would both get worse... yeah I would have liked that a lot I think :)

[numberonetacostan]

It bothers me a little bit when people act like Pickel would be a jerk to Taco because he didn't accept Taco's apology.

Sure they aren't on good terms but he's not an asshole he's basically just a regular guy who got caught up in Taco's act because he was one of the people who wasn't an bitch to her s1 act.

I was reading a fic (for the tacomic because I have brain worms) and Taco hits her head, passes out, Pickle says she deserves it, Mic yells at him and he punches her in the face (also she starts bleeding and he just doesn't care that he made someone unconscious bleed).

I don't mean to rip on that author in paticular, that's just an example but he wouldn't do that, he has the right to reject her apology but he isn't a horrible person who'd leave her if she was seriously injured or genuinely struggling.

Hi there!!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for submitting an ask!!!! :)

Gah, you're so right. I thoroughly disagree with the notion that Pickle would enjoy seeing Taco hurt or suffering. He would not!!! He wouldn't be mean to her at all!! At most I can see him making a snide comment or two, to himself or maybe Knife, if he's upset at her while she's around. He's been really hurt by her, he doesn't want to forgive her or be friends with her again, but he would never harm her, wish her harm, or enjoy her being harmed, at this point. Intrusive-y, very emotional thoughts at the very beginning when he was at his lowest due to her betrayal, he may have had a stray thought, but that's in a normal person-who-is-deeply-hurt way rather than him actually wanting to go through with it.

Yeah I agree I must say the line. He would not fucking say that. Nor would he do that, I'd agree that's very out of character for him.

Though also yes, no shame to that author!!! Out of character can work for some plots, especially rollercoaster-type emotional ones and in fanfictions! Even if I prefer more in-character things I am not immune to it. Sometimes I think characters should kiss before they would realistically be at that stage in their relationship in the plot, yeah? We all do it, I think.

But I agree with your assessment that Pickle would not actually do such a thing. He may not want to forgive her or want a relationship with her but he would not harm her nor ignore her if she was harmed.

[notmoreflippingelves]

Me walking up to the HBO Velma’s writer’s room:

[everythingisawayoflife]

the writer in me…she’s cooking…i think this is the longest thing ive written yet. i shall leave a sample below so i’m satisfied with sharing at least a little bit before i post the full thing (this to me takes place in the new batman adventures universe but feel free to imagine otherwise):

Dick is worried. Tim isn’t the chattiest kid but he can certainly hold a conversation. Dick’s tried everything: school, movies, TV, even casework. All he’s gotten are some unenthused grunts and hums. Tim may not biologically be Bruce’s kid but he sure does take after the guy. He cleaned up a bit before leaving and there’s a little bit of color back in his face but he still looks tired. Devastatingly so. Dick keeps stealing glances at his little brother in the passenger seat of the car. His arms are folded tightly against his abdomen, as if he’s protecting his stomach from something and a slight shiver courses through his body despite Tim bundling up with at least three layers, a scarf, a hat, and very thick gloves. The kid’s got to be cooking in his makeshift snowsuit, but then again…

They’re stopped at a red light. Five minutes out from the mall, three minutes out from the nearest urgent care.

Dick steals another glance towards Tim and decides to reroute to the clinic, get him checked out. Dick tuts quietly, it’s a shame he’s starting to come down with something right before Christmas, right before his first Christmas with them. Dick’s been in his shoes before; falling in a pond ice skating with Barbara. She managed to be just fine whereas he spent Christmas on Bruce’s couch laid up with pneumonia. He hardly remembers that Christmas from being so damn delirious but he remembers the warmth that wasn’t from fever. It was familial. The whole time he remembers being with someone. It was hard to deduce who was with him when but he was never alone. And if Tim was about to go through what he had been through, or something similar, he’d need them. But first, Dick just wanted to check for a fever in the first place. All signs pointed to one but Dick wasn’t sure yet. Careful not to wake the sleeping boy, Dick reaches out for Tim’s forehead.

HONK!

Dick quickly retracts his hand and places it back on the wheel, pressing the gas. To the mall. Tim doesn’t jolt awake but the car horn is clearly loud enough to stir him. He blinks slowly with a grimace, like he’s in pain.

“Are we there yet?” Tim asks, pitifully quiet. Like talking louder than a whisper would kill him.

“Almost, Tim, you can go back to sleep for a bit,” Dick says, taking a left towards the mall.

Tim makes a disapproving noise. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

Hm. Denial is the path he’s choosing here.

“Are you sure? Your eyes were closed and you weren’t talking. Telltale signs of sleeping to me,” Dick says lightly, trying not to come off like he’s interrogating Tim.

Tim laughs a little. “Nope, just resting my eyes.”

“Okay, old man. You’re too young to rest your eyes. Resting your eyes is for old people. Just look at Bruce.”

“Hn.”

“Oh my gosh, B, is that you?” This gets a more hearty laugh from Tim. It’s the most awake he’s looked since this morning.

alrighty thats all im posting, im gonna show the utmost restraint until i actually finish this thing.

[c0mmander-rudboys]

What is your height? You don't seem very tall...

But you look pretty strong ;)

//I have no idea

Though yes, he is a pretty strong guy.

[byanyan]

just a head's up: while I hesitate to call hiatus of any kind bc I want to give myself the freedom to write when I have the energy/focus/etc., I will just note that I'm gonna be even slower than usual around here for... idk, probably for a bit. I'm in the worst state mentally that I think I've ever actually been in and it's uhhhh. it's not great lmao. writing is my main escape & distraction so I don't want to step away from it but doing anything is hard as fuck rn so I'm really not interested in pressuring myself to get shit done when it comes to the hobby I'm supposed to be having fun with. I'll be slow, I'll be selective, and it's possible I'll be dropping a lot of drafts?? maybe?? OR at least like. temporarily removing a bunch from my drafts (to be added back later) just so the number is less big & overwhelming lmao.

thank u guys for ur patience w me & for writing w my glittery lil creature, I appreciate u all sm 💜

[piningpercussionist]

I love lesbians thanks for providing solder 🫡

Anything for our Women* Lovers back at home, Sir (gn)!

*(and non women ♡)

(also this already included trans women but friendly reminder that if you're a terf you're not welcome here ♡ How did you get passed the transfem Scott posts? /j)

[r3dblccd]

Me before watching Chicago (2002) when I discovered WBRFTG and it became one of my favourite songs and I was listening to it without context: OH YES OH YES OH YES THEY BOTH OH YES THEY BOTH OH YES THEY BOTH REACHED FOR THE GUN THE GUN THE GUN THE GUN

Me after actually watching the movie: Wait a minute... I've been bamboozled

[russell-crowe]

anyway i just finished season 7 and while it had some interesting moments, i think it is my least favourite season of house md.

[slightlyunconventional]

ok ok but picture N/ina trying to help K/az hold back because they have to be quiet on a heist or something (maybe a good old sneezing-while-hiding type thing) and then when they’re out of the situation she releases her powers and he just ERUPTS…could you imagine…😍

i am doing more than imagining UGHHH this was literally too god not to write into a fic

(anyone who wants to disprove any of the h/eartrender science can argue with the wall. who care about canon) Also the intro to this is a bit long sorry

tease (subjecting k/az b/rekker to the classic sneezing while hiding treatment)

K/az and N/ina stuffed themselves into a wardrobe, backs pressed against the wall, panting hard. They had just narrowly escaped several armed guards who tailed them through the winding corridors of the mansion they'd broken into. A 500,000 kruge job - all they'd had to do was infiltrate Herr Frühling's (a rather obnoxious nom-de-plume) manor, and pilfer an expensive jade brooch from his personal safes. Obtaining the brooch had been plain sailing. The latter half of the heist could not be said the same for. I/nej had recorded the guards' schedules the evening prior, but the ostentatious gentleman of the mansion just so happened to refresh the rotas mere hours before their arrival. What K/az thought was the perfect window to sneak in had actually turned out to be the very minute the guards came back on duty.

Now, they were split up. Inej made her own way out, of course, Jesper, Wylan, and a reluctant Matthias chose a rather gunshot-explosion-heavy escape route, so Kaz ended up with Nina, thundering down Frühling's pristine hallways, three guards hot on their heels. Nina had managed to slow the guards for a brief period with her powers, though not for long - there wasn't a whole lot a Grisha could do while running through a house as fast as possible. This had allowed them an advantage, though, as they stormed through the nearest door into what appeared to be a guest bedroom.

The closet was surprisingly spacious, possessing enough room to allow both of them to collapse to the dusty wooden floor in exhaustion.

Nina watched Kaz set his cane down to the side of him and grimace as he bent his knees up in front of him.

"Saints, what a dick," Nina breathed, clearly referring to Frühling's ridiculousness. Much to his dismay, Kaz had had to be the distraction to keep the gentleman away from his safes, while Inej's limited lockpicking skills were put to the test obtaining the brooch. The balding man showed clear interest in what he called Kaz's "little finger tricks" - what really was just sleight of hand. Kaz had humoured him, however, entertaining the idiot with vanishing coins and cards.

"Is it bad I never want to do a magic trick again?" Kaz said.

"Don't blame you," Nina replied with a snort. "Reckon this guards have gone yet?"

Kaz listened for a moment. "Not sure. I haven't heard them pass, but they might still be knocked out."

He shifted in place, grimacing.

"Has this closet ever been cleaned? God, all I'm breathing is this fucking d-duhh-!"

"Dust?" Nina finished with a smirk.

He breathed in sharply. "hahH!- hah'kkschh! huh'kxxsch! Fuck..."

Nina raised her eyebrows, quietly laughing. "I didn't think you could sneeze."

"Zip it, or I'll- hhuh.. I'll--huH'KSChhiew!" Three sneezes in and they were already rising in volume and pitch.

"Or you'll what?" Nina teased, "Sneeze at me?"

She snorted again seeing the way his glower quickly went slack, overtaken by an impending fourth sneeze.

"hUH'iSHHhiew!"

"Crap." Nina's grin dropped.

Kaz emerged from his elbow. "What?"

Three sets of footsteps entered the room. He and Nina turned to each other, eyes wide.

"Shit." Kaz said, voice barely a whisper, "Can you access them from in here?"

Nina shook her head. "We just have to hope for the best.."

The footsteps slowed down; the guards were scanning the room. Nina heard Kaz's steady breathing begin to snag. Oh, Saints, not now she thought.

"hihH-!"

Nina nudged him urgently with her elbow. All he could do was look back helplessly as he struggled against the need to sneeze.

Then, she had a thought. Sure, she couldn't access the guards' pulses from inside the closet, but maybe she could access Kaz. She'd messed with people's breathing before, drawn air from their lungs to leave them gasping and coughing, so how hard could it be to simply, stop someone sneezing? She thought it was worth a try.

Nina raised her hands and drew them together, feeling the thrum of Kaz's pulse and the rise of each desperate breath. She took his breath, and held it. Not so much that he couldn't breathe, but enough to suppress any oncoming outbursts.

Kaz turned to her in horror despite his lax features. Nina's efforts seemed to be working, because, despite the irritated twitch of his nose, he wasn't sneezing any more. He did though, seem to be stuck in a permanent 'about-to-sneeze' face, which Nina thought was positively adorable. She would definitely be telling Inej all about this.

The footsteps drew closer. Nina's heart pounded. One of the guards was standing right outside the closet door. Nina's grip on Kaz's breathing tightened, and she held her own breath, body tense. Kaz was totally still, eyes barely open, brows drawn together, mouth hanging halfway open. Nina thought she'd never seen anyone need to sneeze that badly before.

"They're not here. Move!" commanded a thick Zemeni accent. The footsteps left the room, fading away in tandem down the corridor.

Nina sighed, never more relieved in her life. A part of her wanted to keep her hands together, hold Kaz's breath until his dignity was in tatters, but she very much valued her skull. She let go, separating her hands.

A series of staggered gasps escaped him as his brows drew closer. Kaz ducked into his elbow, burying his face deep in the sleeve of his coat.

"HahH-hUH-HH'KKSCHHhiew! 'ISHHhuh! huH'SSHHhiew!"

"Is this a new world record? 'Ketterdam local sneezes a trillion times in five minutes?" Nina laughed.

"huh'kKSHhew! Ugh. Shut up."

Nina kicked the closet door open from her seated position and hauled herself up into the glamourous guest bedroom. She groaned.

"Oh, my legs."

Kaz didn't stand up. Instead, he sneezed, a messy triple barely covered by the hand he lifted halfway to his face.

"hih'sSCHHhiew! kxXSCHuh! -huhh... huh'KSHHuhh!"

Nina tried not to laugh again as she offered him an arm to stand up. He ignored it, pushing himself up out of the closet. He was rubbing his nose with his free hand, leather gloves clearly doing nothing to help.

"Fancy that - the Bastard of the Barrel and he's got a dust allergy! Hilarious." giggled Nina.

Kaz strode straight past her, out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

[primordialruin]

How does Lilith feel about incubi/succubi? Did she play any part in creating them?

If she did, then it was with the help of Asmodeus. Although given her infertility, I feel that it was the other way around. Perhaps, they were modeled after her. After all, she does have pottery as her hobby. Bringing them to life would've been Ozzie's domain. I did HC that she, in her naivety, thought that having children in Eden meant making humans out of clay since copulation was a foreign thing to her. I think it'd be interesting if she tried that experiment again in Hell, and Asmodeus gave them life. Would tie her to her title and stories as the mother of succubi and incubi, which I think is great!

I think, for the most part, she doesn't think too much about them since they are mainly Ozzie's. She employs them where she needs them. She is said to have an army of Lilin/Lilim that are comprised of her children, but I personally would like to steer away from this interpretation of Lilith as having all of the succubi in her service. I do wish for the army to exist, but joining it should be out of choice rather than enforced by birth. The Succubi/Incubi would be her preferred soldiers because of their ability to fly.

[izar-tarazed]

Off to bed to hopefully sleep off the remainder of this stupid cold since I'll be on my way to the traditional New Year's writing retreat with friends! Hoping to get to all the open replies there over the next few days.

[sacrificialarrow]

The shocking amount of similarities between Captain Jack Sparrow and Solas are truly fascinating if you stop to think about them: an essay I probably won't write.

[mushroompollution]

Chapter 49: Nightingale

Previous Chapters: The Sablier Arc Masterpost (35-42) || 43 || 44 || 45 || 46 || 47 || 48

Read the manga: imgur || mangaread (ad warning)

This chapter starts with a brief glimpse of Leo receiving some terrible news from the orphanage. But there's no time for that, because Oz's coming of age ceremony is just starting.

okay I just had to include that part because it always makes me laugh.

As the guests filter in and greet Oz, Alice notices each of them handing him a white feather that he adds to a clip danging from his waist. He explains that the feathers are a symbolic proof of their acknowledgment. Though Alice says she doesn't really get it, she confidently shoves her own feather in his face.

Meanwhile, in an otherwise empty hall, Reim Lunettes and Xerxes Break discuss their plan. They're surprised that Isla Yura allowed so many Pandora officials into his estate, and wonder why he was really so eager to invite Oz to his mansion.

But there's something else Reim wants to ask, too.

Reim goes off to look for the Sealing Stone as Sharon enters the hall and asks Break to step outside for some air with her. As they walk, she communicates with Oz through her Chain, Equius, which is able to hide within shadows and relay telepathic messages. They go over their plan as a certain guest approaches Oz.

Elliot dismisses his own concern and returns to his brooding sister as Gilbert and Alice wave Oz over to their side.

Alice drags Oz out onto the dance floor, as the scene returns to Break and Sharon, standing on a veranda just outside the ballroom. Break asks why she doesn't join the others and dance. Sharon says she's too focused on the mission, but she can't hide the way she watches everyone else.

He asks if she regrets becoming a Contractor through Pandora. Her aging had stopped then, leaving her permanently 14 and thus forbidden from participating in social events for anything other than official business. She says no, she had wanted to form a Contract with Equius and understood the sacrifices. Still...

Finally, she asks Break to dance with her, out there on the veranda. He refuses, and insists he has no idea how to. She says that's nonsense and waves him over to watch the other couples dancing inside.

He can't, Break protests. Sharon keeps insisting, until finally, he has to confess.

It can't be helped then, Sharon says. She'll just have to teach him herself. As she takes him by the hand, Break smiles and remarks to himself how she's grown into a really strong woman.

Back inside, Oz and Alice dance together. She says that long ago, someone taught her how. Though there's a faint memory of Jack, she says that doesn't matter. Because she's dancing with Oz now, and she's happy. It's really sweet.

But someone else catches Oz's attention.

Back inside Isla Yura's mansion, Reim and two other Pandora guards wander the dark halls in search of the Sealing Stone, or any important information. As they proceed, they happen on a gruesome scene, and we learn they aren't the only ones searching those halls.