#aria rambles again

[phantobats]

If it's not too much trouble, could you share how you write your first drafts/outlines for your stories/fics?

You seem to have so many fascinating ideas, and you manage to word them in ways that almost seem cinematic and summarize your plots so efficiently. So, as someone struggling to summarize all my ideas into an outline to begin writing my stories, I wanted to ask you if you had any tips on that particular issue?

I will admit that I do have a peculiar work ethic when it comes to typing up outlines for my stories, but I find it's something that helps me more than just typing up a list of bullet points on what happens in a scene. I will also add an example from the current Batfam fic I am working on to better show you what I mean, but first some theory:

When I write a first draft/outline, I write it in the format of a movie script.

Writing outlines in the form of a movie script is incredibly effective because it forces you to focus on showing, not telling, by emphasizing visuals and action.

It tightens dialogue, ensuring every line has impact, while also honing scene structure and pacing. Script format reveals character through behavior and subtext, making emotional undercurrents clear without relying on exposition.

It drives conflict through concise, tension-filled dialogue and helps you create scenes with immediate emotional impact.

By stripping away unnecessary details, scriptwriting makes storytelling efficient, clear, and easy to visualize, naturally sharpening your narrative and maintaining momentum.

As an example, I offer you an outline written like this from a fic that I am currently writing:

EXT. JASON TODD'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

The sky opens up, rain pouring in sheets. TIM DRAKE stands outside a rundown apartment building, shivering as the cold bites at him. His clothes are soaked, clinging uncomfortably to his skin. He takes a deep breath, his body shaking, his eyes locked on the chipped, weathered door in front of him.

The door swings open.

JASON TODD stands there, casually leaning against the frame. A cigarette hangs loosely between his lips, smoke curling up around his face. His emerald green eyes take in Tim’s drenched, disheveled appearance. A beat passes, then Jason blows a cloud of smoke directly into Tim’s face. Tim coughs, looking irritated but unsurprised.

JASON (deadpan) “You look like shit.”

Tim laughs bitterly, tugging at his soaked clothes, trying to pull them away from his skin. The wet fabric clings to him, suffocating. His frustration is evident.

TIM (mutters) “Thanks. Are you gonna let me in?”

Jason smirks, flicking the ash from his cigarette onto the ground, eyes sharp as they study Tim. He leans against the doorframe, casual but predatory.

JASON (mocking) “Let me guess—His Highness finally replaced you?”

Tim barely flinches, but Jason notices. He always notices. Those green eyes catch every small twitch of vulnerability, every crack in Tim’s resolve. Jason grins, and it’s infuriating—like he’s been waiting for this moment.

Jason takes another slow drag of his cigarette, turning his head to exhale away from Tim. His voice drips with sarcastic sympathy.

JASON “Finally threw you away, huh? Gotta make room for the new, shiny model in his collection?”

Tim's shoulders hunch, his face contorting into a mix of hurt and frustration. Jason’s words hit too close to home, and that self-satisfied grin plastered on Jason’s face only makes it worse. The unspoken ‘I told you this would happen��� lingers in the air between them like a challenge.

TIM (hissing through clenched teeth) “Just let me in, asshole.”

Jason flicks his cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot. He steps aside, the grin still lingering, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something unspoken.

Tim hesitates for only a moment before stepping inside.

And Cut!

Now, you have a wonderful and imaginative draft to work off of. It does take a bit of getting used to, but thinking of your writing as establishing shots in a movie generally helps with getting into the flow of what you are writing.

[aria-greenhoodie]

I need to stop listening to horror stories at night alone in my dorm in the dark, one of my suite mates just dropped something in the other room while I was listening to a really tense part of a story and the fucking noise of it made me jump a mile, fuck me man.

[ariacore-xd]

Got a delicious request 😈 *rubs hands menacingly and gets ready to write some shit hoping that it will somehow make some sense*

[ariapmdeol]

I talked a bit about this with friends a while back, but one thing i really like about coe is how there isn't a clear line between what counts as fiction and what counts as reality. It's deliberately nebulous, which each layer interacting with the others.

The events of the game happened. It was Recompiled/Reconnected/Reenacted by System.NH, and then Fukao (Sharktale Factory) made it into a game.

But they did not change the events of the story, and they are not the original authors (that would be e7a59e -> 神 -> God, re: dlc 2020 credits). They're observers, after all (re: artbook).

You can see this in the choice in Hermit's Room as well! To choose whether to change things, even if it means losing what you've gained; or to accept that these things happened, because in the end, you gained something from it.

There are several documents and references that intentionally blur the line between what is true and what is fiction. The Post-S Code:DANTE Document, the doc on how people draw lines to define the world around them in chapter 6, Hermit's Room, Seodore's purple text and the message he recorded for YoUser: all of these things add to this idea that the line between the two is blurred. The characters engage with us, the player, and we engage with the characters.

This is a fictional story. But it still shapes and changes us. It exists as a part of us. And that makes it real, doesn't it?

[jaystarry]

ok no i have too many thoughts on lrb (not a serious post im just Fucking Frustrated and wanna write some of this shit out so its not just stewing in my head)

maybe its just me being the same brash autistic ass ive been my whole life but like. christ alive TELL PEOPLE you cant see a life under capitalism. WHY ARE WE ALL CALLING OURSELVES ANTICAPITALISTS IF WE ALL PLAY PRETEND THAT WE JUST DEAL WITH IT WHEN WE'RE IN PUBLIC. everyone knows the concept of a "soul destroying day job", i think literally everyone with eyes can recognize that something is wrong with the way our work life is structured. even in the jokes we tell ourselves in PRIVATE were uncomfortable with saying the obvious truth and im so fucking tired of it

not even aiming this at any group in particular just like. i wish more ppl put their money where their mouth is

[aria0fgold]

GIVE IT UP FOR MEL RAMBLING NO.5! I feel... so deranged... Like I can fight god and have em listen to me ramble about my OCs deranged. Okay, I swear, I swear this will be the last post for the day about Mel.

It'll be a short one. Basically just wanna say that most doors in Mel's house aren't the circular turning down, but the one where you push down on, with a similar design to a toilet's flushing knob thingy. Why? Cuz at first, Mel only had 1 cat, and he lived at an apartment then. He wanted to teach Ace how to open doors and so he did.

Ace liked opening doors himself that when Mel got his own house, had most of the doorknobs replaced so Ace can easily open em. The only ones with a normal doorknob were the rooms to Mel's studio and office cuz he wouldn't want the cats to mess up the fabrics and he needs to work in peace for his job.

It was all fun and games where Ace was the only one that can open the doors to suddenly all 24 can, cuz they copied Ace. So there are moments where Mel forgets to lock the door and suddenly the doorknob's turning and then bam! Cats running inside.

He especially needs to keep the door to his bedroom locked, cuz Mel sleeps with all his hair piled to one side where it's mostly on the floor (it's why he keeps his bedroom exceptionally clean). Perks of also not moving much during sleep. But whenever he forgets to lock the door, the cats are now zooming inside, jumping on him or playing at his hair. He never gets much sleep then cuz getting em all to go back out is impossible.

[abrilstevens]

this riverdale rewatch is wild like…. i forgot archie got groomed by a whole ass child predator like? what was that??

[phantobats]

Could I ask you to grace us with a 'The Talented Mr. Ripley'—esque plot for the Batfamily?

This ask inspired me to re-watch the movie and my god, I am feeling inspired!

I think for a plot like this I'd want to cast Tim as Tom Ripley and Dick and Jason as Dickie Greenleaf and Freddie Miles, although they would be the Wayne brothers in this. I know a huge portion of the plot is that Tom kills Dickie after he rejects his romantic feelings for him, so in this case it would be Dick rejecting Tim as a potential family member instead.

Most likely I will focus more on the horror elements and turn this into a man trying to fit amongst the elites and, when failing to do so, begins to pluck them off one by one until he can assume one of their identities to better his life.

No worries, a draft is already being written up.

[retroaria]

boyfriend rin headcannon queen?

a/n: holy shit how have i gone this long without making rin bf headcanons??? thank you anon im gonna give you a kith 💋

˚｡⋆❀˖�� BOYFRIEND RIN ˚｡⋆❀˖°

❀ Itoshi Rin x gn!reader | all characters aged up 18+ | SFW

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | requests are open! | enjoy 🐢 -aria

pre-boyfriend!rin who is much less intimidated by his feelings for you than people may expect. he understands how he feels and he accepts it, but no way in hell is he telling you about them. he tries to push them down as far as he can for as long as he can. doesn’t want the distraction and is a little insecure about how he’ll be as a boyfriend.

pre-boyfriend!rin who goes out of his way to introduce himself to you, help you out with stuff, get things for you that you need, but not without complaining (as if he isn’t giddy at the thought of just being around you). “Seriously, you can’t do this on your own? If you’re going to hurt yourself doing it then just let me handle it.”

pre-boyfriend!rin who gets jealous and possessive as if you’re already his partner. tries to get your attention on him instead of others without showing how he’s feeling. always makes it a little too obvious though, especially when he literally grabs your arm and pulls you away. “That guy’s a loser, just stay with me and he won’t bother you.”

pre-boyfriend!rin who invites you to hang out just to sit and talk in his room, invites you to his games and practices, gets defensive about introducing you to his teammates, and proceeds to act as if all that isn’t couple level interaction. rin finds solace in the thin line he walks between acting like you best friend and acting like your boyfriend. he likes the way he gets to act in regards to you without actually having to explain himself or his feelings. however, the thought that you aren’t actually his and could be taken from him at any time is enough to push him past his comfort zone and lead to his confession.

pre-boyfriend!rin who lets his feelings build up to an unbearable point and only then does he confess to you. his confession comes off a little passive aggressive. he isn’t sure how to explain how he feels without saying that you did this to him or you did that to him and he had no other choice but to fall in love with you. he unintentionally rambles on during his confession, drawing it out a bit too much because he isn’t sure when to stop, and he could honestly go on forever about how much and how deeply he feels for you. slowly but surely his tone becomes more affectionate and he shuts up in a moment of embarrassment awaiting your response.

boyfriend!rin who so quickly loses the tough guy act once you guys start dating. the beginning stages of physical touch and intimacy hit him like a semi truck and he can’t help but melt into a puddle any time he gets to be in your arms. he slugs over to you after practice and games, still sweaty and heaving, and plops himself over your shoulders. tries his best not to put all his weight on you but just enough for him to feel cradled. he swears laying in bed with you is some kind of mind control ritual that you perform on him because how else could you get him to so easily open up and share a piece of his mind with you? the stillness of the night, the softness of the sheets, the comforter, and your skin against his; it makes him feel so safe he doesn’t even let the words that come out of his mouth process in his brain first.

boyfriend!rin who takes you on very sweet and simple dates. likes sitting by the water with you, walking along the beach or at the park. he likes aimlessly kicking a soccer ball around with you in his backyard while you guys talk. dates with him feel more like hangouts, but sometimes he does like to put in a little extra effort to make it something special.

boyfriend!rin who has absolutely no wandering eye or intentions of being with anyone else. remember how difficult it was for him to just be with you? nah, no way is he doing that again. plus he’s got the best partner in the world so it’s not like he would ever want to risk that. because of this he would let you have a lot of say in his appearance. his haircuts, his clothes, even the body wash and cologne he wears. obviously he still wouldn’t let you choose something that he doesn’t like, but he wants you to like all of it too and he doesn’t mind catering to your preferences on him. you’re the only person he’s trying to impress and he wants you to feel confident about that.

boyfriend!rin who secretly wants everyone to know you’re his but also doesn’t want to make a spectacle out of you. he tells his teammates about you, occasionally will post about you, and he comments on all your posts. I can’t imagine him doing a hard launch, but he’s not afraid to mention in interviews or in conversation that he is in fact taken and in love.

boyfriend!rin who greatly appreciates the advice and support that you give him. he’s got some issues he needs to work through, and he feels so lucky to have you by his side. not judging him or scolding him for acting the way he does, but instead teaching him love in new ways and guiding him towards better understanding of others and behavior. he really starts taking things more seriously when you’re around, specifically in regards to separating his attitude on the field and off the field. he holds you like water in his hands and he wants that to help him learn how to show others and himself that same tenderness when necessary.

boyfriend!rin who is very possessive but not over protective. he lets you go out and dress up and look hot for the whole world to see. he trusts you with his whole heart and the idea of someone trying to hit on you while he isn’t there doesn’t scare him. he does hate when people hit on you while he is there though, it makes his blood boil. he goes into predator mode and literally forces you to cling to him like you’re his cub. he’s definitely the type to fight with other guys in your instagram comment section, would stop after you tell him that it’s kind of embarrassing though lol. god forbid someone from a rival team makes a comment after seeing you at one of his games, he’s literally devouring them on the pitch and then probably trying to beat the shit out of them after.

boyfriend!rin who purposely puts things on the highest shelves in your shared apartment so that you have no other choice but to ask him for help. he reaches up and grabs whatever you need, handing it to you with the stupidest smirk on his face.

boyfriend!rin who always needs to have some point of contact with you when you’re together. he isn’t big on pda at all and would cringe if you tried to be excessive about it, but he will admit he just needs your hand in his almost all of the time. if not that then he’ll opt for placing his hand on your lower back or on your thigh.

boyfriend!rin who is so whipped that he looks through your socials and his personal pictures of you multiple times a day when he’s away for games. he genuinely gets homesick for you and hates the feeling. calls you when he wakes up in the mornings and before he goes to bed at night, and of course is texting you throughout the day. he’s not a gimmicky guy but he loves getting you little souvenirs from the different countries he visits. his gifts are always tasteful and he knows what you like so don’t worry.

boyfriend!rin who is the best gift giver! he’s so doting and attentive that he knows you like the back of his hand and never fails to surprise you with items, trips, events, etc. that you absolutely love.

boyfriend!rin who is super freaking awesome and cute and im only writing this bc i feel weird ending the post on something random lol. all hail rin itoshi. the rin stans have convinced me!!

LOOOOORD forgive me i know it’s been like a week since my last official post but im a working woman, a single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops with gentle hands and the heart of a fighter im a survivor bro yall wouldn’t understand. anyways im trying to get back on my regular posting schedule bc i have so many requests to fulfill so stay tuned aria nation - peace out ✌️

[jadeoru]

SMUDGED LIPSTICK

07: silent treatment -> prev / mlist / next

now playing: tightrope - movements 🎶

Awkward. Everything about this was awkward. You were sitting on the floor beside the bed, your back pressed against the bed frame. You haven’t looked at him once. He sat on the bed beside you, sitting cross-legged on the edge of it.  He was shamelessly staring at you; yet you refused to even acknowledge his existence. He silently admired your features, watching as you typed away on your phone. After taking a quick peek at your screen, he deducted that you were writing song lyrics. His eyebrows raised up briefly, face filled with amusement. Selfishly, he was glad to be here during your writing process. He thought to himself that maybe if this song gets finished, you might decide to release it to the world. And maybe, if that were to happen, you might add this song to future setlists; perform it for thousands to see. Then, maybe, just maybe, as the words you typed out right here beside him left your lips, maybe you would think of him; you would remember this moment. He shoved his ‘maybe’s’ aside, and watched your face scrunch up in concentration. As he watched you structure each verse carefully, only one thought crossed his mind:

Holy shit, you’re beautiful.

He’s glad you haven’t told him off for staring yet because god, he missed your face. He missed hearing your voice, even if your words were fueled by hatred; disgust. You made even the most incoherent of ramblings sound like poetry. His eyes scanned your face, putting every inch of your skin to memory, almost in fear that he would never get the chance to see it again. His heart panged at the thought of never seeing these expressions of yours again - how your tongue darted across your bottom lip. You shifted around on the floor. He knew you were incredibly uncomfortable down there, but your spite and pettiness outweighed any discomfort you felt. He fidgeted with his phone, trying to look like he was doing something, anything. He tried to act as if he wasn’t as desperate as he really was.

He failed.

Clearing his throat, he spoke up. “So are y-” “no.” ouch. You shut him down immediately, not even bothering to hear him out. He deserved it, he thought to himself. He would try again regardless. He would keep trying to get a word that wasn’t ‘no’ or ‘shut up’ out of you, no matter how annoying he got. But after the sixth time, it was evident to him that this would be a lot harder than it seemed. He was ashamed of how pathetic he was towards you, but the thought of giving up hasn’t crossed his mind once. If you didn’t want to speak physically, maybe there were other ways to get a conversation out of you.

He turned his phone on, and quickly added you to his contacts, before beginning to type.

extra:

BOKUAKA IS REAL!!!

sakusa feels SO pathetic but he always feels that way when it comes to you

you somehow always leave him speechless

but that doesn't mean anything!!!! he just misses your friendship!! thats all!!! totally!!

i wonder what the song yn was writing is about 🤔🤔

noya and hinata are having the equivalent of a 6 year old girls sleepover

like theyre giggling and talking about boys n shit

7 chapters in and they still hate each other.... oops...

its okay guys we're getting to the good part i promise

good things are coming!!!

kinda!

TAGLIST: @gojoed @itsdragonius @sleepy-writer84 @anianurst @yuminako @wolffmaiden @tenjikusstuff4 @juie13 @ilyless @arachnoia @choizzn @3lectraheart @diorzs @le000xxgrd @aboveasphodel @petrus1989 @aria-in-wonderland @sugarrhiccupp @bbybibi @walllflowerrrsss @wave2mia @loveelylacey @marimisses @alpha-mommy69

reply to this or send me an ask to be added to the taglist ! ^__^

[forgottenarthur]

Her eyes were like the earth, warm in their darkness, and fathoms deep, sworls of swirling green and brown yet bright and brilliant. They seemed to hang upon him heavily in that moment, face turning to a stillness that had turned all-too familiar to him in its stiff formality, (a way he often saw her shield herself at his father's court,) as his lips left her skin, and he swallowed hard, stepped away.

She is uncomfortable, he realized with a pang, With me so close. What else could it be? And of course she was! Was he not her enemy in her eyes? Arthur looked quickly away, eyes settling upon nothing particularly, as if simply casting his gaze elsewhere might help him breathe more deeply again.

Yet, as she spoke again, voicing some distaste for this plan, Arthur found himself laughing. In truth, there was some pleasure for him in that -- would she miss him? Oh, but that was foolish! Still, he couldn't help the brilliant smile that flashed upon his lips or the brightness of his laughter. Perhaps it was delusion, but it was a pleasing one, at that, and he was pleased.

"You cannot possibly object to poor Sebastian!" he cried, astonished. "Varmont he may be, but you were prepared to ride out with me, and I am reliably informed that my brother makes a far more pleasing companion than I do. The only person I know of who does not enjoy his comapny is Lady Dowager Valentina, and in truth," he added with a smirk and a humorous flash of his brows. "I cannot think of a better recommendation for anyone."

Joshingly, he leaned a touch closer as if to share some confidence with her. "Yet I think I do detect some disapprobation for this plan...Do you prefer...dancing with the devil you know, my lady? Have you grown accustomed to me?" He chuckled, and straightened quickly. He had no right to tease her, in truth, to flirt with her! She despised him! And he was a royal fool.

She looked at him with real astonishment and he chuckled under his breath, but he couldn't help his confusion. "So...your celebrations...They were just...just ordinary markets?" He shrugged, unable to think what should be so special in all that. "I--I am surprised," he admitted. "I...suppose...Well, it seems more," he sighed, glanced away, trying to form his thoughts. "Well, if I'm honest, more materialistic, perhaps, than I'd come to consider Astairan culture, I suppose. And less..." he shook his head. "Special, I suppose, than I consider a celebration to be. Markets, selling wares, it seems so...commonplace. To me." He shrugged.

Perhaps he was idealizing them too much...or perhaps misunderstanding their purpose. "What--what set them aside, what made them a celebration? Was...Was the craftsmanship particularly..." he winced, unable to come up with another term on the spot. "Well crafted? Was it a way of providing for...others? Of sharing? Or simply something...fun to do? Or was it merely a celebration of the virtue of...economic trade? I confess, I hadn't thought the idea of commerce as being something particularly celebratory or...cherished in Astaira, but...maybe that's just my...own...prejudices..." He paused, held up his hands. "I'm not judging! I just want to understand."

Arthur rubbed the back of his neck, growing conscious of the fact that he was not showing himself to best advantage with this. "Well of course I've been to a market! I--" he laughed, shrugged. "I just...It surprised me. But I, uh, I visit markets not infrequently, in fact. After every conquest, I rifle through a selectiong of them, ferreting out gifts for my mother and sisters, so they may have something of the native territory to bring with them when they arrive. I like to think it maybe makes them feel a bit more...comfortable when they come." He shrugged. "Those transitions...They can be hard. We don't--" he licked his lips. "The whole Empire is our home." But that was just another way of saying they had none. He looked at her significantly. He didn't have the words to say that, but he hoped she'd understand. "Having something from each of the places we've been...I suppose its a way of trying to provide a sense of...belonging."

Something in what he said of dancing seemed to throw her off, though he could not have said what. Belatedly, it occurred to him that perhaps even the thought of former festivals and ways of moving were painful to her. Hoping to spare her, he jumped in as casually, and self-depricatingly, as he might. Perhaps thinking of it in that context might at least bring some levity.

Arthur smirked. "And I'm sure you excelled at them. You seem to master everything you try. I, on the other hand, gave my dancing master fits. But he was determined. I don't embarrass him, anymore." He laughed. "At least with those courtly dances I've already been taught. I can't say I'm naturally very...delicate." But perhaps that was a poor choice of words: his health in his youth had been dotted by strange bouts of illness -- but Arthur shared his mother's suspicions there. No. He was not delicate. His sword master, after all, had had far greater success.

"But when it comes to your free Astairan dances...I fear I trod on my poor partner's toes far more often than any gentleman ought." He'd learned that generally he could simply put his hands on her waist while she twirled and laughed -- it was a bit safer on her feet than his impulse to pull her close to him. He nearly japed that perhaps this was the true cause for Eithne's rejection, but stopped himself. He did not now regret that she had not chosen him so much as he once had, but he did still rue that she had chosen Cassimir. It did not seem to have brought her any happiness, and he found he did not feel like making light of it, after all.

As she described what the art of dance meant to Astairans, his look turned thoughtful. "That...that sounds lovely," he admitted. He knew well that his own native dances were all about display, about showcasing grace and dignity and good breeding, a bid to impress spectators and outclass those around you: a competition like everything else in his life. And a far cry from losing oneself to the joy of...anything. But thinking back, was that not what he had felt at Malconaire? Were those nights not all light and movement and laughter and closeness, not simply with Eithne, though that had been their main draw for him, but even with her sisters and his brothers, besides? A moment of joy, shared by all.

"I am accustomed to sights that are...unusual for me," he began, shrugging. Each new place brought its own cultural morays, but Astaira stood out from the rest, something more removed from this place than from the others to his mind. But it was also the first place he'd been thrust into such close quarters with its residents -- first the witch, Aine, as both his prisoner and guest...and now Aria and her sister as much the same. Generally, the occupants of castles were slaughtered too soon for such thorough cultural exchanges. He shook himself.

"But...yes, I confess, it did seem strange and, yes, a touch wild the first time I saw it." His father had privately declared them all heathens and harlots the first time he had seen it. But Arthur did not feel the need to mention that. "But I confess, I--Will I scandalize you if I admit I have tried it?" he laughed. "And, though I do not pretend to have any skill at it, I do believe it is just what you describe."

He laughed at her teasing. "I'm afraid you would be very much mistaken on that score, my lady. I can assure you that, for me, at least, the notion of a ball is rather more terrifying than that of a tourney. A helmet is far more comfortable -- and far more secure -- upon one's head than a crown. And I am much less like to wound myself, besides," he joked. "Either my body or my pride." He chuckled, eyes flicking to hers as an easy smile stole across his features. "But, perhaps if you promise not to laugh too much, I shall summon my courage, after all, and take to the floor. A future Emperor should be bold." He paused, trying to sound nonchalant. "And you, Lady Aria? Do you plan to dance tonight?"

She glowed so bright when she was teasing him, eyes and face shining with that righteous indignation he'd come to know so well, and in its way, to treasure. He didn't think he'd ever met someone so certain as she was in the ways that she was, secure in her principles not in aggression, but in calm confidence. She seemed a glittering prophetess, to him, her shining sword replaced by the stars of her eyes, the flush of her cheeks, the high courage she'd shown from the very start, staring down a prince whose family was known for oblitering families like hers. No fear could silence her. Had Arthur, himself, not pulled his own lance in the face of his father? Did his mother not dance around the words she wished to say? Did Amira not deal in shadows and poisons? Did Edmund not weaponize his tongue? Who here spoke, even in their trusest form, all they really meant to say in the shining light? Even amongst those judged most powerful in all the world, he didn't think he'd ever seen bravery like that before her.

Her brows flew up and he laughed brightly as she, sinking into his own stance, reminded him of his own words. "Ahh, I see, as always, even a little knowledge, in your hands, is a very dangerous thing." He grinned, eyes dancing. He had to stop flirting with her -- but he had no wish to stop. "Very well. How shall we spend our earnings, hm?"

Her answer surprised him and his brows rose. "All right," he agreed, deciding that he would supply any deficiencies from the donation, due to this, from his own funds. "Part of the winnings will go to my sister, but if we are to be spending them together, I think it only fair we purchase together as well. Besides," he added, coyly. "Now that I know you have such experience with markets, how can I forego such advice? I'll arrange a little market for us, right here, if my fathe r will not permit you out, if that's what it takes."

He laughed. "You are right -- my sister is not one for whom one can purchase gifts with much...economy," he arched playful brows. "But I believe I can supply the coin should there be some deficit. They are our winnings, after all: you do deserve a say."

He paused. "Is there anything else you would like out of them? It seems you've already been supplied new dresses. Perhap s you'd like...jewels to go with them?" Her own jewels had, after all, been confiscated when his father had come to power. "Or...books of Astairan music and a bard to play them for you whenever you wish? Or," he smirked. "Perhaps I could recommend heavier curtains on your windows, so you don't feel so very tempted to stand right beside them during a riot and tempt danger?" He arched his brows significantly, but broke into a smile, notwithstanding. He couldn't help the affection that crept into his voice next. "But, then, is there anything that could diminish your reckless courage?"

One Night | Arthur & Aria

"Everyone, my lady. They are, all of them, my father's people. They are all mine to protect."

Arthur's words ran through Aria's head again as she stared across the great hall to where Eilia was seated next to the Emperor. Aria knew the look her on her sisters face, the well practiced Stafford expression that meant to convey no expression at all. Aria had hoped that the Emperor had given up his goal of marrying her sister when he had declared the Staffords bastards but it seemed that would not be the case.

Aria pressed her back against the wall, feeling a bit out of her own skin dressed in the silks and satins Cassandra had insisted she wear when Aria had asked the youngest Varmont princess about attire for the tournament. Aria had never imagined Cassandra would commisson her an entire set of outfits for her to wear for the event. Part of the plan, she'd told herself and Eilia when they'd been delivered to their tiny quarters. It was all part of the plan.

"Eilia should be queen," Aria thought to herself, an often repeated mantra in these past weeks. She watched her sister give Roderick a short response to whatever question he had asked of her. Though the Emperor's face did not show it, Aria imagined he was less than pleased with her limited responses.

"Butcher I may be, but butcher I do not wish to remain."

Aria heard the guard next to her, who had been her near constant companion during the tournaments events, yawn. Aria turned her head slightly so she could just see him out of the corner of her eye.

"I'm not planning on running away if you'd like to go take a nap," Aria informed him. The guard frowned, saying nothing, though he suddenly was adjusting his stance, standing straighter and no longer leaning against the wall as she herself was in that moment. Aria turned her gaze back to the crowd to gauge the reason and was met with Arthur Varmont making his way towards her.

"Eilia should be queen," Aria thought to herself once again as Arthur reached her. Despite herself, she smiled slightly as he approached. It had been today Arthur had finally found himself the champion of the day and Aria had silently reminded herself she shouldn't look too pleased when he finally claimed victory.

"Let me offer you congratulations on your victory today, Imperial Highness," Aria offered, clasping her hands behind her back as she pushed away from the wall, standing up properly to speak with him. The pair had spoken little in the past days with the activities and festivities that had been taking place, but Aria had seen the small white fabric pinned to his surcoat each time he'd entered the tournament grounds. Aria had made a point not to think about why she'd handed him that handkerchief, not to think about how he'd interpreted her gesture. Aria Stafford could not admit that to herself... not yet.

"I am here to do all the good I can."

"Seeing you out there today did make me realize how dearly I miss riding from time to time," Aria mused, suddenly unsure of what more to say. "Tomorrow is to be... a group..." she paused, fumbling for the word. "Melee?" she finally concluded.

Tournaments had been rare in Astaira in the way the Varmonts held them, the country being more prone to festivals that all could partake in. There had been competitions, yes, but wargames had rarely taken place.

[ariapmdeol]

As a pro canniblism individual, are you familar with the game The Coffin of Andy and LeyLey? It seems right up your alley

oh, this is one we started recently, actually! :D We've been having fun with it so far <3

We've finished chapter 1, and we'll be getting around to the rest of the game soon~ thank you for the recommendation!!

[rosinkreutz]

Category 5 Rambling Alert:

If I were writing the Strive story mode, I think I would have had the conflict with Jack'O sacrificing herself to destroy I-No be that only one of the personalities got destroyed and not both... I don't really know why they did it the way that they did tbh, because if both Aria and Jack'O were destroyed, then that's unequivocally bad. But if it's presented as a choice between them, then that's actually in line with the internal conflict of her realizing she's become her own person that wants to live and not just a disposable vessel.

Like, Jack'O would be say "No... This body was made for you... You're the one that Frederick and Asuka want..."

And Aria responds: "This isn't about them... It's about you..."

And they go back and forth until the end of the story.

I-No is ascended, and then instead of Jack'O going to try to defeat her first, Sol does the bit with the Outrage laser pretty much immediately while the others distract her. Except this time, it actually is killing him for real since he doesn't have the FOC anymore. Jack'O is desperately trying to get him to let go of the trigger, saying like, "You can't die! Don't you want to see Aria again?!"

Then Sol says something to the tune of "Have I ever called you Aria?"... He looks at her with so much love and closes his eyes (expecting to die).

But then... He comes back into consciousness and looks around, confused... He sees one of Jack'O's minions sitting where she was, holding a piece of the now broken Outrage. It waves at him and goes "Bye-Bye!" (like in the game), then disappears- to which Sol looks up in shock just in time to see Jack'O hurl herself into I-No to sacrifice herself instead.

About this time Asuka is also waking up (passed out after being turned into a book) to see the same thing, and they both shout and try to stop her.

Time freezes around Jack'O once she reaches I-No. She looks to see one of Asuka's mecha hands just inches away from her back, and Frederick in the middle of trying to stagger up into a run. Here, she talks to Aria one more time, and Jackie finally says something like "I guess I just didn't realize it before... Or I thought it was just your feelings tricking me... But I think I feel... No... I know I really, really love him!"

She finally lets Aria take the SOJ to destroy I-No.

And then she and Sol reunite and hug and what not...

Then a little later, Sol and Asuka have their final confrontation (which is mostly Asuka getting mad at Sol for not wanting to kill him anymore- itd be the first time seeing Asuka show any intense emotion). Afterwards, Jack'O joins them but before anyone can say anything, she just completely decks Asuka and knocks him to the ground. Immediately, she kneels down beside him and apologizes profusely, saying that Aria had asked her to do it before she destroyed herself.

Asuka looks very solemn and understanding (and in pain), but then Jack'O says "But she also wanted you to know that she forgives you..."

At this point Asuka is clearly just barely, by sheer willpower alone, not shattering into a million sobbing pieces. He goes on to reassure her that even though she didn't fulfill her original purpose, he'll always be so proud of her. It ends with the three of them watching the sunrise over a beautiful sea of clouds. That's my vision anyway.

Wait one more thought. The outro credits are shot like they're going around the world checking up on people (maybe like its following a bird? Raven?), and then at the end it starts zooming way, way out and takes us to the moon. Many quiet shots of a desolate Tír na nÓg... Finally, we reach Asuka, sitting alone in a big empty room meant for hundreds. He looks longingly at the Earth through one of the massive windows and says to himself, "This really is the loneliest place in the universe..."

Aimless, he wanders around (very large hallways to make him look even more small and alone) until he enters the main area with that weird floating piano. He gets it to land and absentmindedly starts testing the keys... Then, after a moment of hesitation, he plays the first notes of Freesia, which segues into the song as the screen cuts to the last of the credits.

Then it ends for reals.

[valentine-cafe]

Hello hellooo! May I order a tiramisu, strawberry shortcake & mango pudding pls?

Okay so I’ve been thinking (a little too much but I digress) what if 781 trio with a cafe owner male reader.

Like maybe oh Rishen’s daily need for something sweet again and a new cafe has opened up near their uni something something and they decide to go check it out and lo and behold who is that fine babe (jk. or not-) and over time get to know them and get closer, maybe it becomes one of their regularly visited places? After all the food isn’t the only thing that looks great there if you know what I mean cough cough 😋

Sos I feel like I’m just rambling. Somebody sedate me before I go feral (Rishen preferably- Who said that.)

- 🧊 (?)

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 : mango & strawberry tiramisu !! . . . snake monster, immortal & nerdy hybrid ⊹ fem reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔​​​​​​​﹕verse 781 ꮽ  zhào talisen, alessio arias and rishen herrera

 𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪  who's that ?⠀﹕a stoic grim reaper naga. an immortal inhuman and a nerdy hybrid hero

ּ  ֗ recepit ℘ ... the pretty cafe owner downtown catches the 6 eyes of the infamous ecu trio. fortunately for them, you seem to be pretty invested too ⊹ cw ٬٬ suggestive . 

A low whistle releases past black stained lips. As Alessio leans over the table to look at you from afar, working around the counter making the drinks and desserts up front so people can see the impressive skills your hands have worked hard for since you opened the cafe.

Oh yes, Rishen certainly found you more than attractive the first few times she watched you work around the counter. And the first few times you delivered her sweets? When you got close enough and she saw more of you, she felt like she was about to have a heart attack. To her and her boyfriends, you had incredibly handsome features. From head to toe. The way you looked at them didn't do jutice on any of their hearts.

Talisen had made a poem about you the first time Rishen had taken him with to the cafe. And Alessio had made little doodles for you to enjoy looking at every time they left the cafe. Just to get your attention a little extra.

"Those are f'us too ya know?" Alessio chuckles as he turns to look at Rishen and Talisen, fidgeting with the square shaped toy in his hands. A fidget toy the grim reaper had one day smacked into his hands because he got tired of the sounds of pacman playing from Alessio's old school gameboy. "Look at how he's bein' all extra."

"Well," Talisen chuckles as his pen continues to scratch across the paper of his notebook. "When his hands are not busy with moulding our bodies, he has to show off in other ways."

Bright maroon irises snap to the other pair of darker maroon across the table, as Rishen snickers at the comment. "Talisen, you always talk about public decency." He teases and, before fits of giggles erupt from his throat when Talisen gave her a small look. Daring her to go on.

"A strawberry ade, to my beloved punk freak." You call, as the cold glass of strawberry ade clinks against the table right where Alessio sits. Who eagerly picks up the drink and gives you a wink.

"A hot chocolate and cherry cheesecake for the lovely pretty boy over here." The slight change in tone from teasing to a little more husky changes the hues of Rishen's face to several shades of red in mere minutes. As she takes the plate and the hot chocolate into her hands and puts them in front of her. "Gracias cariño."

"And last but not least, a london fog, with blueberry banana bread on the side f'ya. Darling poet." You watch as Talisen, with his careful and graceful hands, takes the plate and drink you hand him carefully. Only for you to earn a little smile and a nod. "Thank you, dear. Benevolent as ever."

꒰ ۪ ˖ ࣪ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑢 ... info ꮽ mlist ꮽ verse ꮽ wiki .

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Simon Peter | Stay Away | Platonic

Part of Simon’s past slips back into his system out of protectiveness towards you, making him do something he regrets.

Requested by Aria

Nowadays, you don’t get to spend that much time with your brothers anymore. Not that you mind the reasoning behind that lack of quality time; The fact that they are following the Messiah as His actual Disciples makes you more proud than any one else is of them.

However, that doesn’t mean that you won’t take any chance you can get whenever they’re in the village to unwind from their long travels. You take every opportunity to show up at their doorstep to ask them to accompany you to the market or if they would like to come over for dinner at your place, where you live by yourself. 

Today is no different; Simon and Andrew are in town after a long while on the road and are eager to put up their legs and rest properly for the first time in weeks. You have other plans for them. Ideas that Andrew was lucky enough to get out of due to another issue coming up that had priority over joining you to the market to peruse the wares and help you prepare fresh produce into a hearty dinner. 

Simon on the other hand had no other choice but to go with his little sister, mainly due to Eden’s insistence. She knows how much you have missed your siblings, so she doesn’t mind having to share her husband with you for a few hours. Your sister-in-law will get a wonderful dinner out of it, after all. 

The two of you are walking through the slightly muddy streets, dirt sticking to your sandals with every few steps due to recent rain, but neither of you mind it. You have pushed your basket into Simon’s arms without listening to his protests. Deep down, he enjoys spending some quality time with you. It has been ages since you’ve gone out together like this, so both of you make the most of it.

“…So, I was thinking poultry, although that might be a little expensive. The quail hasn’t been of great quality lately, so maybe… How about some mutton? And goat cheese, you know how much Andrew likes that! I have recently gotten my hands on some great honey, so I’m more than eager to use it! Barley or rye bread?” 

You sharply turn to your oldest brother as you finish your rambling on today’s menu, and he gives you a look. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” 

Crossing your arms, you glare at him. “Were you listening to me at all?” 

He pulls a face and rubs his neck. “Sorry, I was zoning out a little. You know, being on the road has made me quite tired.” 

You sigh, knowing that he is right. “Alright, I should be more patient. It is not easy to pay attention all the time, so I’ll cut you some slack.” 

“Much obliged,” Simon snorts a laugh, causing you to smirk slightly. “Anyways, what was the question again?” 

You gesture at the loaves of bread on display right next to you. “Whether you’d like to have some barley or some rye bread.” 

Simon hums and inspects the baked wares. “You know, I’m more in the mood for wheat bread.” 

Nodding, you appreciate the fact that he’s voicing his opinions at least, even though they do not necessarily fit the rest of the dishes you had thought of, but you don’t complain about it. Two loaves of wheat bread disappear into the basket that is growing heavier around Simon’s arm. After paying for them, you grab your shopping list from your bag. 

“Let’s see, we’ve bought the vegetables, the bread, that leaves the mutton and the wine—” 

You head out in front of Simon without waiting for him to process that you’re leaving to the next booth. Although he rolls his eyes, there is a playfulness behind the gesture as he begins to smile, watching you walk away for a moment. Even though his life is so much different from how it used to be, he is glad that some things never change, like the dynamic between the two of you. No matter how old you get, you can always count on him for anything you need, even for something as trivial as a trip to the market. 

Right as he begins to follow you, though, someone comes from an adjacent alleyway and walks up behind you, obviously leering at you before catching up. “Shalom,” he mutters, causing you to startle a little, “Your name is (Y/n), right?” 

“Uh, yes,” you seem a little creeped out, “I thought I told you to leave me alone.” 

“Why are you playing so hard to get, hm?” 

“I’m not interested, Malek.” 

The stranger next to you huffs and raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re severely missing out.” 

Your jaw tightens as you narrow your eyes at him. “Maybe you should stop bothering me.” 

“Or what?” 

Simon interferes right then and there, pushing his body between yours and the harasser. “Or else you’ll have to deal with me.” The man named Malek snorts.

“I thought you were married already, Simon.” 

“(Y/n) is my sister.” 

Malek narrows his eyes and lets them alternate between you and him. “You are related? I’d never have known. Come on, don’t you think it’s embarrassing for your little sister to not have found a spouse yet? I’d treat her right.” The way Malek’s gaze goes over you makes Simon’s blood boil. 

“Don’t look at her like that, or I’ll—” 

“Simon,” you cut off your brother the moment you see that he’s white-knuckling the basket. “Let’s just go home, please?” Malek chuckles at your attempt to soothe the former fisherman.

Simon glares at Malek, who stands a little taller than him. “Do you want me to punch that stupid smirk off your face, huh?” 

“Simon—” 

“—Aren’t you going to listen to your little sister, hm? Or are you going to protect her? You can’t be there forever.” 

He lunges forward, but is only barely held back by you. “Is that supposed to be a threat, huh?” 

Malek shows his palms in defence. “Or an offer, really. Think about it, alright?” The man grins and sizes Simon up one last time before shooting you a weird smirk. “I’ll see you around, little lady.” 

As he stalks off, Simon’s brow furrows deeper. “That’s right, walk away.” He turns to face you to check if you’re doing alright. “Are you okay?” You nod, sighing. “Has that guy been bothering you often?” 

“A few times, yeah,” you tell him, “Not just me, but… I’ve been quite clear that I’m not interested in him. He won’t take no for an answer.” 

Your brother hums and narrows his eyes at Malek. “Do you want me to talk it out of his thick skull?”

Shaking your head, you let out a shaky breath. “I just want to go home, okay? There is a lot of food to prepare and I don’t want this to ruin our outing. We spend way too little time together to be able to afford that.” 

Knowing that you have a strong point there, Simon sighs and drops the issue altogether, walking with you to your home that is close to the one of his and Eden. As he helps you unload the groceries, he doesn’t bring it up anymore as the two of you begin making some smalltalk about life in general, like how you repainted your walls into a darker shade and how a local carpenter has offered his services to repair your woodwork for you in exchange for a few dozen fresh eggs in total, gathered from the chickens that you’ve been keeping on part of your roof.

It isn’t until you’re about to chop up the herbs that you realise that you’ve forgotten about something back at the market, having been too distracted by the encounter with Malek to give it further thought. “Oh, Si,” you huff, putting a hand to your forehead. “We forgot about the wine.” 

“Don’t you still have a bit left in your pantry?” 

“Not enough for the five of us,” you say, reminding Simon that Andrew and Jesus are also coming to have dinner at your place tonight. The former fisherman hums and steps away from the kitchen counter, heading towards the door. 

“You know what,” he says, “I’ll get us a few skins whilst you stay here to prepare. Does that sound good?” 

You give him a fond smile. “Where would I be without you, hm?” 

Simon chuckles and shrugs. “I don’t know, dear sister. I’ll see you soon.”

“Shalom shalom,” you muse, before remembering something else: “Oh, I might be gone once you return, since I told Jesus and Andrew I’d come and fetch them in a bit.” 

Your oldest brother nods and greets you, a gesture you return before continuing your cooking.

With a certain haste behind his steps, Simon traverses Capernaum like he has never left, knowing the village like the back of his hand. Even the set up of the different food stands rarely changes, making it easy to find the stall selling wine and other drinks. 

Right as he slings two wineskins over his shoulder by the straps, a presence steps up behind him. Sighing, Simon senses it right away, closing his eyes to remain as calm as he can. 

“Does this mean your little sister is all alone in her house, hm?” Malek taunts as he approaches the former fisherman slowly, “You know, you aren’t really doing a good job at protecting here if you’re gone all the time.”

“You know that Zebedee is looking out for her—” 

“—Yes, but it really should be you, right? Zebedee isn’t your father. Jonah is dead.” 

Simon grits his teeth, fingers tightening around the leather of the wineskins. Malek notices and cannot fight the smirk that spreads over his face. “What, cat got your tongue? What happened to the real Simon, huh? The one who used to brawl and gamble at The Hammer? The one who beat up his brothers-in-law for some quick money?”

“That was in the past—” 

“—All because you’re following some peaceful Preacher now, hm? One Who teaches you to turn the other cheek? Don’t you think that’s a little… I don’t know… Timid? Weak?” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about—” 

“—Don’t I?” Malek chuckles darkly, “How would you know what your sister gets up to whenever you’re gone, hm? Who says that she doesn’t secretly like the attention that I’m giving her, and she’s only pretending to dislike me just because you’re here?” 

Simon’s face grows redder as rage begins to simmer beneath the surface. He knows that Malek is attempting to get under his skin, but it is working. “Don’t you imply such things about her,” the former fisherman hisses, “(Y/n) is a respectable woman and I won’t listen to you slandering her name.” 

“So? Do something about it… Oh, I forgot. You’re always gone from here, away from your wife and your sister, the two people you have to protect, to follow some know-it-all Preacher Who is apparently some Miracle Worker.” There is a clear mocking tone to Malek’s voice that makes Simon nearly see white with anger. “You can’t be there for her forever.” 

“Listen here—” 

“—Ha, there you are—”

“—You disgusting little—” 

Before Simon finishes his sentence, Malek roughly shoves him back. The son of Jonah stumbles, nearly losing his balance, but the sudden act of violence sparks something within him that he thought he had left behind long ago. 

With a sharp right hook, Simon punches Malek right in the nose. The second it happens, when the crack of bone fills the air louder than the bleating of the surrounding sheep, the former fisherman is instantly filled with guilt. He releases the collar of Malek, which he had grabbed in a reflex, and steps back. “Don’t you dare insult my sister, nor come close to her. Ever again. Do you hear me?” He tries to sound confident, that it is no idle threat, but his voice comes out more regretful than he meant it to be.

Malek is too occupied with holding his bleeding nose to pay attention to that, though, staggering back as he cries out in pain. “Oh, I don’t feel so good—” As the words leave him, Malek sharply turns and throws up against the wall. Running a hand through his hair, Simon instantly rushes forward, panicking a little. 

“I’m so sorry, I— I didn’t mean to—” 

“Simon?” Suddenly, your voice halts him right in his tracks. He turns to face you, but feels even more ashamed when behind you, Jesus and Andrew are staring at the scene as well, “What are you doing?” 

Swallowing hard in embarrassment, Simon pushes some hair out of his face again. “Look, I… I was upset, and he angered me, and I just snapped when he said something nasty about you. I know it wasn’t right to do, but—” He is cut off by another loud belch from Malek, who continues to throw up, his nose oozing blood like it is water. 

Jesus gently makes His way to the front and puts a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “We will talk about this later. Go stand with your siblings.” 

He doesn’t protest it and watches how Jesus walks over to Malek in order to speak to him. The man who had been harassing you earlier looks up slightly disturbed, then shrinks a bit as he realises Whom he is looking at. 

“You are—“ 

“Sssh, take it easy. Don’t talk, alright? Just let Me…” 

Gently, Jesus wraps a hand over the bleeding nose, not caring about the deep red liquid seeping out of it. When He withdraws His hand, Malek instantly brings his fingers up to feel at his nose, and he finds it completely healed. 

“What… How…” Jesus smiles at the surprise on Malek’s face. The shock fades into realisation, and Malek falls to his knees. “Blessed are You, King of the Universe—”

“Let us save these big titles for another time, okay?” Jesus helps him back to his feet, “Now, I’m sure that you have questions, and Simon here will be more than happy to answer them. But this moment, I am on my way to a dinner party and I’m quite hungry. I’ll be in town for a while, so you can come and find Me tomorrow.” 

Malek nods, still a little confused about what has just occurred, and Jesus turns back to the three of you. “What was that?” Andrew whispers, “Did you punch him?” 

Simon lets out a long sigh, far from proud of what he had done, “Well, yeah. I… It was stupid of me. I didn’t want to… But it just happened. I let him get under my skin, even though I should have turned away. I’m…” He looks at Jesus, “I’m sorry, Master. I know it is not what You want from us.”

Jesus hums and gives him a reassuring look. “You are genuinely sorrowful of your actions, even though the reaction is explainable from a human perspective. By My standards, things are solved differently, as you know, but it is a lesson you still need to learn. Sometimes you make mistakes, but there is forgiveness readily available, provided you are genuinely remorseful. So…” the Messiah leans a little closer and winks, “Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

The pun makes you all laugh, the tension now lifted a little, when Simon hums, hoisting the wineskins a bit better around his arm. “I’ll try to do that, Master,” he promises, “But what was that about me telling Malek more about You?” 

“Do you think you’ll get away without an apology, huh?” Jesus smiles. “It is the least you can do to make up for it. Who knows? The two of you might become friends some day.” 

Simon laughs at that and hums. “Well, greater miracles have happened these days.”

Jesus hums and puts a hand on Simon’s upper back, gently patting it. “Now, let’s head over to (Y/n)’s place, hm? I’m sure both of you have missed her famous dinners.”

“So have You,” Andrew muses. 

The Messiah nods at that, “Absolutely,” as the three of you head to your home to have a hearty meal together.

[phantobats]

How or where do you get ideas for fics? Is there someone who gives you ideas or at least motivates you to make some? Do you just think and write like Shakespeare and Hamilton had a baby?

I’ve been loving your work and It amazes me how you have so many ideas and all that, I just don’t know where to get them.

Oh my god, I've never thought my writing would ever be compared to the likes of Shakespeare or even Hamilton! Thank you so much, love <3.

In terms of how and where I get my ideas for what to write, I do have a few tips I can give you below the cut:

Consume a lot of the media for the fandom you are writing for:

This does go without saying, but having a general feel for the characters you are writing with is the most important factor to your pieces! Consuming their media (in this case, the comics) and analyzing their characters from your perspective, as well as the different story arcs they are entangled with, will already give you a slew of ideas: What if this happened differently? How would they react, if their moral code was changed? etc.

Usually, it is preferable that your knowledge of the character doesn't stem from consuming entirely fanon media, although there is also absolutely nothing wrong with that either!

2. A lot of reading, a lot of researching, and a ton more consuming of art in general:

In my spare time, I am someone who reads quite a lot. Whether it is comic books, classical literature, newspapers, etc.

Not only does consuming written media improve your own writing over time, it also introduces you to new stories and perspectives. A lot of my ideas actually come from stories I have found particularly charming and wanted to recreate with my own twist!

The same obviously also goes for stories in movies, art, music and anything else you interpret as art in general.

3. Find people to discuss your ideas with:

It is always refreshing to have a second mind look over your ideas and add on details or plotlines you might have not thought of yet.

Discussing your own ideas this way also helps you gain a deeper knowledge of the story you want to tell, as you have to explain it to someone else and unpack why you want to add certain things or change them.

There are obviously a ton more things I do during the process of coming up with an idea and converting it into an actual story, but my DMs are always open for you - and anyone else interested - to talk and discuss ideas you might want to write!