#This turned into more of a one shot?

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

[hensel-x]

yet another fnaf thing from last year cause let me tell you I Loved the interpretation of william afton obliterating a child out of obsessive gay jealousy 

[ihatebrainstorm]

Can we keep brainstorm as a cat

no.. sorry...

link to part 1

[puddii-ng]

the stamen, the pistil, and the evening butterfly ♪

[nat-ter]

Bruce had never met Superman face to face but he still hated the alien and thought of him as a threat and he was convinced his boys did too— except his kids are traitors. They each met Superman individually and found him really friendly and nice. At first, they were all hiding the fact that they were friends with Superman from each other, and especially from Bruce. So while Bruce was obsessed with coming up with contingency plan after contingency plan to take down Superman— even though he didn't try to kill the alien yet since Superman was still doing good for the people and Bruce couldn't just attack someone who hadn't done any wrong yet— the kids were making excuses to go meet Superman in secret and Bruce just went on oblivious to the fact that his kids are backstabbing demons.

Of course they lied to Superman too, about Batman's opinions of the Man of Steel, and the various plans he had made to kill said man. They always came up with reason after reason why Superman shouldn't or couldn't meet Batman, sometimes it's getting so ridiculous they were sure even Superman would call their buff. But sweet, ol' Kal never did.

Eventually, they found out that none of them held a grudge against Superman like Batman did, so they all teamed up together and cover for each other whenever one of them spend time with Superman, or cover the fact that Superman came to Gotham one too many time than he should. And it was the one thing that all of them could work together on without fighting or insulting each other. At one point, to keep their secret friendship with Superman, Dick even went so far to wear Batman's costume and meet Superman as Batman because Superman had wanted to meet Batman really bad and they were running dry on why Batman couldn't make time to meet the neighboring hero, and it wasn't like they could just ask Bruce to meet him considering the large collection of Kryptonite in the Cave. And they didn't exactly want their mentor to find out they had went behind his back and formed a friendship with who he swore was his mortal enemy (B's dramatic like that).

They tried to broach the subject of partnership with Superman to Bruce once in a while, of course, but every single time they were either shot down immediately and called ridiculous for even thinking about it or they had to sit through a dramatic monologue about how Superman couldn't be trusted and why they should stay away from him.

But Superman could fly and had superspeed so of course they couldn't stop him if he were to randomly come to Gotham and speak with Batman as if they were friends. Which was what exactly happened. Dick, as Batman, had warned Superman to never, ever come to Gotham without prior notice and to make sure no one notice his presence while he was in the city ("but you can totally see my kids. I'm cool with that." "Oh? Thanks, Batman. But... you know you sound younger than I thought you would." "Uh... yeah, I. Ehem. I'm very in touch with the modern lingo."), and Superman had readily agreed citing about respecting each other's boundaries and all, so the kids thought they were in the clear. But of course, there would be an emergency when even Superman wouldn't have the time to page first before coming right into Batman's turf and ask for his help.

So on a relatively quiet night, Batman was perching on a gargoyle while the newest Robin was scouting out the alleyways for any trouble. And Superman decided to touch down on the roof behind the crouching Batman and said, as if they had met before, as if they were close friends who hang out every once in a while, "Good evening, Batman. It's nice to see you again. Sorry I couldn't page first, and I hope you're not too busy because I have an emergency and I could really use your help."

Batman had gone rigid in a second and through gritted teeth, said, "Superman."

Upon hearing the name through the comm, Damian panicked and immediately sent out an emergency alert to his brothers before grappling to the building where sweet, clueless Superman with his sweet heart was facing the big bad Bat of Gotham who had been stockpiling on kryptonite for years, waiting for the day he would fight Superman. Which was the first mistake.

Because of course Superman, friendly Superman, with heart the size of the Sun, immediately recognised Robin. And of course, clueless Superman with his dumb, harmless 1000 megawatt smile was waving at Robin as if they were friends, as if they knew each other, as if Robin didn't hear Bruce grumbling about each piece written about the good deeds the Superman did every other day.

The others arrived at the scene faster than they would have at any night. Panic stricken and scared shitless of Bruce's wrath. And of course Superman immediately greeted them as soon as they got there.

Batman had merely narrowed his eyes when Superman had waved at Robin, and barked, sharper than he had before, "What the hell are you doing in my city?"

Superman looked taken aback but he was quick to recover. Seems like whatever emergency he got was more prominent than figuring out why his sort-of-not-really-friend was behaving weirdly. "Like I said, I have an emergency and I could really use your help, Batman."

Batman scoffed but with the voice modulator it sounded garbled and hard for the ears. "And what makes you think I would help you?"

Superman blinked. "What do you mean— Why wouldn't you help me?"

"First you encroach into my city without even asking for permission, talking to me as if we are— friends. And then you ask for my help as if I would just drop everything on my plate and follow you. Who do you think—"

But Batman's rant was cut off by the arrival of the other three heroes who stood at the edge of the roof, looking sheepish and guilty, breathing heavily in the quiet night. Superman looked at them, bewildered and surprised to see all the Batfamily in one place but smiling wide nonetheless because he was happy to see his little friends together. It had always been two kids or one. Never three, never all of them and certainly not with Batman in the mix.

"Oh, hey, Red Robin, Nightwing and Red Hood...?" Superman waved awkwardly by the end of his greetings, looking unsure. "Sorry," he said and actually curled in on himself a little as if he's self-conscious. "Are you guys on a big case? I didn't hear anything so I thought you weren't busy. I guess I could try to contact Wonder Woman if you have your hands full."

Superman turned to Batman but Batman was slowly turning his head towards where his kids stood at the edge of the roof. He was eerily silent and motionless making the kids take a step back nervously. Superman watched the scene with a frown, pulling his eyebrows together so tightly they almost meet in the middle. He was starting to detect that something wasn't quite right.

"Explain." Batman barked.

And Superman's face scrunched up even further. Clearly the man was deep in thought. "You know," he said slowly before none of the kids could speak. "Batman. You sound really different than the last time we met. Or any other time, actually. It's as if you're..." he trailed off, staring at Batman's feet, lost in his thoughts again.

"What." Batman shifted slightly. "We've never met before."

"Oh," Superman breathed out, his face going slack. He turned to Nightwing and the young hero immediately stood up straighter. "It was you."

Batman's head snapped towards where Dick was standing with his hands literally clasped behind his back like a soldier. "Nightwing," growled Batman. "Explain."

"Uhh..." said Dick eloquently.

"Red Robin." Bruce barked when Dick fell into silence, unable to come up with a plausible excuse, or to tell the truth.

"Err..." said Tim, swaying a little on his feet. He hadn't had enough sleep or coffee in him to live through the situation.

Batman did not sigh but Bruce Wayne did. A lot. And the kids had a knack of bringing out the dad side in him so Batman sighed through the voice modulator before he could think better. He had always suspected that his kids were up to something but he was so consumed with the thought of the alien— who was now standing in front of him with the world's greatest kicked puppy eyes in the world for some reason— he had stupidly thought whatever shenanigans his sons were up to, he would be able to deal with it later. Of course, he had never thought that his kids were dirty, backstabbing demons.

"Father," Damian finally said, but only because Jason had been signing at him to do so, telling him to use his puppy eyes since it still seemed to work on Bruce. "This is a misunderstanding."

But apparently they were dealing with the full Bat tonight, despite the involuntary sigh, because Batman did not slumped down his shoulders like he always did when Damian turn on his pleading eyes, instead he stood up straight as ever and met Damian's eye straight on. Jason was sure he could hear thunderstorm coming their way.

"A misunderstanding." He repeated flatly.

"Yes." Dick quickly said and Jason gave him a side eye. Dude, he thought, I just convinced the demon child to throw himself under the bus, why are you still talking.

"How is this a misunderstanding." His tone was so flat it didn't even come out as a question.

"I don't understand," Superman said instead, before anyone could reply Batman. He turned to the kids, his face set in disappointment so similar to Bruce's the kids actually flinched back. "You told me Batman was okay with me hanging out with you guys... And he told me— Oh. Nightwing. Right."

Batman's shoulders went impossibly more rigid. "You have been... hanging out."

"Err," said Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin simultaneously. Jason wisely kept his mouth shut. But Bruce's eyes still landed on him. Jason groaned in his head. So much for staying undetected.

"Red Hood," Bruce said slowly, very pointedly. "I thought you hate Superman."

"Yeah, well." Jason shrugged with nonchalance he didn't feel. "Turns out, he's a pretty great guy. So, kudos to him. Yay...?"

"You hated me?" Superman asked, looking dejected. Like someone kicked his dog and Jason knew he had a dog so the expression was even more daunting. And Jason wasn't having any of it, okay. Kal-El had literally given Red Hood his Ma's secret recipe for the perfect cinnamon roll. Which tasted like heaven (sorry Alfred). They had a bond, okay. No way he would let Superman see him as some cynical asshole. No way.

"Not fucking fair. It was the old man who went on and on about how you can't be trusted while making weapons to kill you. So, in my defense, it was hard to like you when all your flaws and possible weaknesses are pointed out in an alphabetical order." He threw a quick glance at the old man he just threw under the bus. Bruce looked unimpressed as ever. "But that was before I met you and found out that you're actually a chill dude. With a mother who's, like, the God of Baking."

"Superman doesn't have a mother!" Batman, honest to god, spluttered.

"Yes, he does." The young heroes said in unison.

"His world is dead. His parents are dead." Batman needlessly emphasised the word 'dead', for which he got four pairs of unimpressed eyes.

"B, have you ever heard of adoption." Dick said, emphasising the last word just to spite Bruce. Because of course Bruce did, if not, three of them wouldn't be there.

"You have Earth parents!" Batman exclaimed quite unlike himself, pointing a finger at Superman as if that's an accusation.

"You want to kill me." Kal whispered, his puppy eyes back on full effect.

Batman shifted uncomfortably. It was one thing to plan ways to kill someone, even if they're alien, it's completely different when said someone you wanted to kill was confronting you about the very thing.

"Yes." Damian reaffirmed. Ever the literal. "Father has been producing a variety of weapons to weaken you, hurt you and eventually kill you with the material called Kryptonite."

"Robin." Tim hissed.

Damian was still a growing child, emotionally and physically. But even he knew that when his any of his brothers said his name like that, it meant he had crossed a line he shouldn't have without realising he did.

"But you have nothing to worry about, Kal." Damian quickly amended. "Should father try to use these weapons under unwarranted circumstances, he will find the stock empty. We have contingency plans for father's contingencies—"

"Damian." It was Dick this time, who quickly moved and put a hand over Robin's mouth. He didn't even realise his mistake, not any of them did, actually.

"What." Batman said. Mostly confused. He couldn't even find it in himself to be furious at the moment. He was just flummoxed.

"Oh. Uh." Superman stammered. "Thank you? That's really nice of you."

An awkward silence befall the rooftop as each hero stood awkwardly where they were, barely breathing, motionless, not knowing what action to take next. Eventually Batman shifted an inch.

Oh no, thought the boys, he's going to go on another rant.

"You went behind my back," Batman started with a dark voice. "I warned you about the danger and you dismissed it. You went and made an alliance with my enemy." Here, Superman let out a protesting noise which could also he offended because, really? Enemy? Batman ignored it. "Not only that, you made plans to go against me. Instead of talking to me, you decided to oppose me. I have trained you and taught you everything you need to know. I take care of you and make sure to meet each of your needs. And this is what I get in return. Betrayal. You did not listen to me and—"

But he was cut off by a sardonic voice. "Master Wayne," said a voice from the batcomm each Bat was wearing, and Superman with his superhearing could hear it loud and clear too. "Considering your history of doing what you were told not to do, are you sure that you should be giving this speech?"

"Alfred," Batman said, sounding almost petulant.

"It is your fault, afterall, that you did not seek out Superman first before deciding who he is and what he is like. It is a good thing, if I may be so bold to say, that the kids see past the mask and befriend Superman in spite of what you have to say about him." Batman looked at Superman who was standing there awkwardly, staring at Batman. Bruce sneered, unable to help himself.

"Quit that," Alfred admonished. Bruce immediately dropped it. Superman blinked. "Now, Master Bruce. I agree that Master Dick, Master Jason, Master Tim and Master Damian should have come forward with their established friendship with Superman but considering your opinion on him, I believe it is understandable that they hesitated to do so." The aforementioned young boys nodded their head at Bruce. "That is not to say, however, that their behaviour shall go unpunish." Now they were groaning and Bruce had a little smile of triumph. "Perhaps, a few days off petrol and reflecting on our behaviours would do us some good. Including you, Master Bruce." Bruce immediately dropped his smile. Why him, too? Alfred answered right away. "I believe you realise now that you have been acting brashly the past few years. Now, we know that Superman is not as aloof and alien as we had previously thought. He is more earthbound than we believed him to be. If he were to go, he will have someone to miss him."

The kids nodded again. Superman just stared at Bruce with wide eyes and an expression Bruce couldn't put together. Whatever, Bruce had no time to care about him. He turned slightly away to whisper to the comm.

"But Alfred—"

"None of that now. I suggest you send the young lads home and we put this discussion off for the future."

In the ensuing silence, Superman softly breathed out: "Wayne."

Batman immediately went rigid, and so did the other young vigilantes. How the hell—

"Bruce... Wayne...?" Superman searched Batman's covered face as if he was trying to see if he was actually coming to a concrete conclusion.

"Oh," Alfred said, surprised and guilty. "The supersenses have slipped my mind. My apologies, Master Bruce."

For the first time in his life, Bruce didn't know what to do. Of course his immediate response should be deflection. But how could you lie to Superman about the very thing he just heard. The kids didn't seem to know what else to do either.

"Perhaps, you should ask Superman to come over for tea if his emergency is not an emergency anymore and we could talk about this in a more secure place." Alfred smoothly continued. No point in lying now. Superman had heard what he had heard and it was unlikely that he could be convinced that his superhearing was faulty.

Superman blinked a few times as if to clear his thoughts before he cleared his throat. "Yes, uhm. I was going to ask Batman to help me take a look at some data about a shipment from Gotham to Metropolis that was to happen tonight. I have reasons to believe that Luthor is involved and when Luthor is involved—"

"Kryptonite is involved." Bruce finished it for him.

Superman looked at him, seemingly a bit surprised. "Erm, yes. That. But I think it has already happened so... I'd have to follow it up tomorrow. So. Uh. I have... time?"

Batman narrowed his eyes and stayed silent.

"Bruce." Alfred said.

"C'mon B," Dick piped up. "The worst has already happened."

"I concur, Father. Kal-El now knows who you are, it is only best that the matter of discretion be properly discussed." Damian nodded sagely.

"The fuck, old man, are you still contemplating this?" Jason raised his arms in disbelief. He's so done with this family.

"Language, Master Jason."

"Uhh..." Tim swayed on his feet.

Batman sighed again. Dammit. Instead of showing his discomfort, however, he growled out a mean, "Fine." And then he grappled towards where he parked the Batmobile. Those brats could find their own way home and Superman? He could fly anyway.

Turned out, Superman could fly with four more passengers and Red Robin's bike that the kids used to get to that building. Although Bruce later gave Kal a piece of his mind about safety and the standard amount of people Superman should carry during flight without putting anyone in danger.

[leenfiend]

Ya’ll want these doodles from the miss congeniality but in space idea or no

[clockworkclownart]

Day 7 - Mind control- #DannyMay2024

this one goes out to all those great mind control fics in the phandom ~ 💚 please leave your favorites in the replies, i want to read more! 💚

[jhuzen]

old and new [gn/m.reader]

good lord i have been gone for a long time. i am so sorry, i am recovering from bloccus writicus. also i may have been… getting in touch with my thirst for strong women. women are so beautiful. i love them. to all my requesters (? how to english), please excuse my tardiness. allow me to rev my engine before delivering them once again. i’m gonna warm up with a few posts (including this). ALSO THIS STORY IS JDIADMC IDK.

𖦹 big on genshin lore because i am nerding out, creator reader but not sagau reader, like i’m talking you are a character in the story, ooh look at me diverting from my agenda of overseer reader (i blame skirk’s master).

The mere ability to create is something so vast and so elaborate, placed upon the pedestal for all to see. If one is gifted with the passion and talent to create, they are the envy of all — to craft the most divine pieces, create something so intricate that it is nothing short of impressive.

And through it all, an artist hones one’s skills until they have reached the peak — until they’ve viewed every perspective, until they’ve used every shade, until they’ve done every stroke, all of it comes down to their prized creation;

Their Magnum Opus.

That… was Teyvat to you.

It was your pièce de résistance. If the myriad of heavenly bodies that lay before your trail were thought-provoking and terrifyingly beautiful to a fault, then Teyvat was your inexplicable masterpiece, one that took trial and error as your gentle hands shaped and carved every landscape, as your breath that blew into it became the protecting breeze, and as the tears that you wept from joy became the primordial seas of the world that birthed new life forms that you managed to call a mere happy accident.

It was yours. Many worlds before it were mere prototypes, but something you’ve cherished nonetheless. To you, Teyvat was the product that will possibly never get any better and a creation that will never be bested by anything else.

You granted it laws that were akin to the past worlds you’ve crafted with your own hands, you gave it life through the creatures that crawled around the earth. It thrived and you gave it autonomy once you thought it could work on its own course with your given gifts to let it thrive.

Teyvat was your cherished creation.

And the same rings true until now upon your quiet descent. Your immaculate robes that were woven with stardusts suddenly turning into a soft silk. You walked the earth in your bare feet, the blades of grass a mere tickle underneath you as you journeyed through the world.

The breeze blew by your hair and you felt the sheer invigoration, forcing a tiny titter out of you. You embraced the fruits of your hard labor, recalling the eons you nearly wept in agony as you continued to sculpt everything down to its tiniest detail.

And out of all of that, you birthed your pride and joy, this world that could never measure up to anything else.

Your eyes which held the countless stars and worlds you’ve created soon found itself gazing across the vast lands of this realm of light you’ve created, finding the realm of void opposing the one you were on.

Countless times you’ve heard your fellow artisans question you for creating such an unconventional place to be. But you sought balance in this perfect world of yours, where every creature can walk on their own respective realms. And if you can create pure beings of light, who’s to say that you can’t create the creatures that lurk within the void?

Your feet pattered against the grass that rustled as you hoped to approach and visit the opposing realm when you felt the ground beneath your rumble and shake. You stilled yourself with ease as you looked over your shoulder.

And your eyes had never known such beauty until now.

For the first time, a creature of divinity such as yourself was gobsmacked at the sight of a huge Vishap that stood before you.

It was a beautiful one — its blue scales that blended with the water from your tears of joy that you’ve shed upon your creation, its eyes holding the purest intentions that matched its pure being. You can feel the waters surge within its very form, like a fresh cold spring on a hot summer day.

Your eyes suddenly filled with tears as you felt your heart constrict with so much love as you watched it approach you. You have never seen such beauty that it truly nearly knocked you off your feet. Your chest ached with so much want as you continued to marvel the creature that you only hoped of succeeding in creating several eons ago.

“Oh… look at you…”

Your voice, honeyed and smooth as a silk, tinkled across the lands — waking up the creations that you gave life to upon your very own creation of Teyvat. Your voice, filled with so much love and tenderness, directed to the Vishap that towered over your tiny mortal form with ease, rang out, as if to call for it to come closer.

And it does.

The earth shakes with every weighted step that it took and you followed, contrasting the loudness with the silence of your own steps. You met it halfway until the very concept of distance no longer exists between you and the Vishap.

“…Such a beautiful one you are,” you whispered, your voice emitting a lilt of care and intense joy that you managed to suppress for a good measure before it overwhelmed you.

You lent a hand and its gaze directs towards it.

The Vishap leans into your touch and you can feel the waves of the primordial sea flow through you. With it, you can feel the joy you’ve felt once you’ve reached the end of your creation. You’ve felt the nostalgic satisfaction that kept you fulfilled even until now. You’ve felt the overwhelming love and excitement that you had when you took a step back and got a good look on Teyvat’s finality.

“You, who cradled our lives in your hands,” it spoke with a bellowing voice, making it seem like your own was but a mere squeak. “…Why do you pursue a creation as grand as this?”

You took a second as you pondered its question.

“…For the love in me is much too big not to share.”

“We have anticipated your descent. Nibelung has prophesied the return of the tearful artisan.”

You felt yourself flush at the title that was given to you unceremoniously, “Are my tears so ineffably embarrassing that I deserve such a name from my beloved creations?”

It huffed at your light jest, “It is nothing more but a praise. Your tears brought life in this barren world. Your tears gave birth to a new life that not one could hope to achieve—

“Your tears are my waters, to which I have complete sovereign on. Your tears are my will, to which I am eternally thankful for.”

You felt the inevitable warmth flow through your tiny body from the Vishap’s words alone. While it was satisfying to finish Teyvat on its own, you suddenly found a level beyond that feeling after receiving gratitude from your own creation firsthand. It melted your lonely soul and you couldn’t help but feel giddy at the feeling of it alone.

Such a simple gesture it was — to thank you — and yet the feeling it gave transcends every other emotion you’ve felt throughout the course of your long and eternal life.

“May you continue to prosper with the gift I’ve given you.” You blessed it with your small voice, barely above a mere whisper.

Your palm that shaped many worlds emitted the kind of warmth from a starting kiln and the Vishap relished in the feeling, a pleased growl echoing through the empty vast land of the light realm.

“The life that I owe to you will be cherished and used to its fullest. And should I perish, I will return with memories of you, no matter how faint.” It promised in one breath.

Your silken robes billowed against the breeze that blew by again. You can only feel your thoughts and feelings mingle with the Vishap’s. For once, you are able to see how it and its fellow Vishaps came to be, how each of them walked through the light realm and claimed its own homes where they ruled with incredible prosperity and indomitable ambition.

You were able to appreciate the further creation of life on this world that you deemed perfect, and was able to see how it went when you slept to rest for a good few centuries.

It was a feeling so invigorating, that you could feel your heart swell with so much love and pride for these dragons that walked the haven you’ve created. It mattered not to you how they came to be, only that they were able to live in peace and free from cumbersome bothers. It eased your heart, knowing that they are able to propagate their kind with so much freedom under the autonomous law that you gave to Teyvat.

You were feeling genuine satisfaction.

And it feels your jovial heart, with the way it continued to nestle its luminous scaled body into your touch.

“Protect this world with all your might. And you… you that holds my tears, will be given the authority to bring judgment of all life that makes a home on this world for centuries to come.”

Among the array of emotions that flowed through you, you felt its grateful pride surge through you.

A draconic pride that will leave its mark on you.

You had hoped it was a bad dream — a childish nightmare, no matter how unheard of it was among the divinity like you.

You hoped that the constriction in your loving heart was a jest in poor taste, that it was just a passing act of scare that you will laugh at. But as your eyes gazed at your magnum opus, your heart nearly shattered into a million little pieces.

The waters that were intimately connected to your essence, your very being, was tainted with anguish and anger. You can feel the hardships that started to brew from a few tiny nicks of pain in your heart. Teyvat was quite literally anchored to you through the primordial waters that flowed through it.

And as it continued to suffer contamination from something foreign, your heart further corroded into something that inflicted pain. You can feel the blood that soaked into the waters cry for desperation, you can feel the way it boiled with so much thirst for vengeance against whatever caused the first tragedy on Teyvat in the first place.

You placed full faith on the seven sovereigns, you had given them blessings that will aid them to guard your precious creation, but you could feel the tinge of betrayal flow through your veins when you threw a quick glance and saw Nibelung seeking something far more dangerous to defend their realm.

Something not from Teyvat. Something you know the laws that you placed which granted autonomy would reject and inflict sorrow upon those that were affected by it.

You fell into a state of unrest, pained with the grief of betrayal and longing for those that fought to protect your very own creation. A part of your mind condemns you for placing such a burden on your creations that cannot be better than outworld creatures that transcend them. But another part of you screams genuine belief to those you have tasked, that they will prevail and honor your simple wish.

Normally a couple of decades was nothing to you — as it could pass as quick as a mere minute, but to experience excruciating pain that throbbed like a vile tumor on your heavenly being was not something to sneeze at. Your heart ached for so many decades as you watched the sovereigns fall before those that intruded in your lovely creation.

And as it stole the authorities of the sovereigns, like a widow bereft its lover, you were forced into a state of slumber, lasting for centuries to come.

The new world thrives with lush life, creatures alike living as though its lives weren’t owed to the slumbering deity that was consumed with so much grief after all the tragic events that happened since its arrival on your world.

Perhaps it was the gentle mercy granted upon you that you stayed asleep when it parted a new realm for humanity’s arrival. When it was challenged by someone of the same nature, resulting to more catastrophic devastation that marred your heart with more fresh scars while you slept.

Perhaps it was best that you were unconscious as your closed eyes poured out tears endlessly that would sure tire you out for years as it happened.

And perhaps it was its atonement for the damage it caused you when you woke up and saw your Teyvat as something entirely new. Something that you didn’t create, something… completely alien.

Your pride as a divine creator was shaken, but you were quick to brush it off, wanting to see just how much your precious world was defiled and turned into something you know would never pass up as befitting into your standards. It was admittedly unbecoming of you, to turn your nose up against a creation, you always held some form of admiration and appreciation towards anything. You loved — and loved so much that you had to create to share it with your creations.

But Teyvat was once your magnum opus, it was… yours. It bathed in your heavenly tears, it felt every caress of your hands as you molded it into something you called your greatest masterpiece eons ago. You broke into a sweat, slaved away for the sake of your satisfaction upon completion, and when you finished it, you cried from happiness alone.

You descended, the flurry of stardust in your divine robes coagulating into the familiar silken robes that you wore whenever you would visit the seven sovereigns.

How many years have you been asleep? Dreaming up a reality where you shared a meal with the humongous and serpentine Dragon of Verdure, where you watched the Dragon King roar with pride, and where you exchanged the most insightful and heartfelt conversations with the Dragon of Water — the one that held your tears.

The grass underneath your bare feet feels as though it had a million stories to tell you, that among those years you’ve been forced into a slumber, you had missed a good chunk of what made Teyvat into this.

But the familiarity of the empty landscape was enough to urge you to keep going forth.

And that same familiarity ended the moment your eyes landed on fallen structures — ones you’ve never seen before. You can decipher that it once stood at a towering height, just from pillars that could squash your tiny mortal form with ease should it fall at the slightest disturbance.

You could feel a sense of tyranny from these structures, a tyranny broken by a hope from perhaps the creatures that felt trapped by it. You may have been asleep when it happened, but you can almost see how the tyranny of the past ruler of this place fell against the unity of those who longed freedom.

“Freedom… huh…” You murmured softly and a breeze rustled the grass beneath you. A lone leaf from the many trees landed on your hair, prompting you to take it and look at it.

You wondered how the Dragon of Verdure was fairing. If it had the same authority over the luscious life of Dendro as it did before.

Your feet continued to take you somewhere else, as though it had a sense of where to go. You never questioned it — as alien as Teyvat was to you now, it was still your world. And as long as the primordial waters are around, it stays anchored with you.

It didn’t take long before you ended up before a civilization — one you have never seen before when you descended before it came to challenge the seven sovereigns. Your eyes widened at the sight, pupils dilating as you watched humanity flourish and thrive within that patch of rock where a city sat.

Never had you expected to wake up to the sight of humans thriving in your world where there was once none.

Your sense of cautiousness dropped in a quick second and you took yourself towards it, foot against the hard cobblestone bridge as you walked towards the walls of this… civilization.

If you looked odd approaching this city in such a state, then you were certain they brushed it off as the guards welcomed you with a smile.

“Weary traveler, welcome to Mondstadt, the City of Freedom, blessed by our beloved Anemo Archon, Barbatos himself!”

For the first time since you had woken up, you felt the same overwhelming sense of love and tenderness as you were welcomed with living mortals, living in your creation like it was a normal occurrence for them.

Never had you known that humanity, no matter how it came upon your world, could be so beautiful.

And just like the day you met that beloved Vishap of yours, you wept.

“You sure know a lot of things about this place! Paimon could even say that you’re far more knowledgeable than Zhongli could be!”

Your laugh rang through the streets of Fontaine, angelic and seeming like a song from the heavens itself.

It had been so many years — dare you say centuries even, since you first descended after sleeping for so long with all the catastrophic events that has happened. You had traveled far and wide, discovered every single hidden civilization from the time you were asleep, learned every little conflict that happened.

You had to do the hard part of reading through every ancient tome that had a different language with each ancient civilization, but filling in the gaps was much easier. Despite it being your creation, the mere fact that you gave it autonomy only meant it wasn’t always subservient to you. It had its own laws even if you were the very being that gave those laws.

It was a refreshing change, quite frankly. Teyvat treated you like any other mortal and you could see and experience how humanity managed to adapt to the laws of your creation. It was honestly tear-jerking. You may not be the one that introduced humanity — rather it was the one that caused devastation to you and your dragons, but it was nonetheless still an endearing sight that you cherished.

You had to relearn Teyvat’s new history as it began embarking on a journey as a new world, where humans thrived and dominated, where beings in a mortal body but with a higher threshold, power, and purpose called gods were the ones to govern instead of the elemental sovereigns.

Somehow throughout it all, it felt as though your world was no longer yours.

But the waters ring familiarity, as it held your feelings from all those years ago. And now it’s far more potent in the Land of Hydro that you were currently on as you accompanied the blonde traveler that gained infamy across the nations you too journeyed in the past.

You felt for them, much like you before, they had to learn the secrets of this world. Only that they had to do it blind, while you managed to fill in the blanks of the tragic past of this world. And as much as you’d like to play the hero, since your descent after your sleep, you have learned to let everything play out on its own.

“I’m not one to claim superiority over Mister Zhongli’s prowess. Surely he knows far more than I do,” you deny with a genuine conviction. You learned he was the oldest of all archons, and have a better grasp of the world than you do when you were asleep.

“Mm. Let’s just call it quits and say you and him are even!” The tiny floating guide chirped, clapping in satisfaction after her own little conclusion.

You only nodded, conceding to her whims before finding the traveler walking up to you and giving you a serving of fish and chips and a double of serving for Paimon. You thanked them kindly and they only offered you a polite smile and a nod.

“Oh! Right! We should be heading off to pick up some bounty for more mora! Are you coming, [Name]?” Paimon asked, looking at you.

You caught their gaze and shook your head, “I think I’d like to take a walk around for a moment. I’ll see you two in awhile.” You said with the same unwavering smile that offered nothing but fondness for either of the two.

With a nod from them, off they went to Euphrasie to hound her for more bounty and its fruitful rewards.

You walked through the streets, basking in the noise of every call from every vendor within the side of the street, indulging the bustling nature of the busybodies in Fontaine, and savoring the air of nostalgia that perhaps only you can understand and feel.

Your feet halted at the remote parts of Palais Mermonia, admiring the flowers while you embraced the sense of familiarity that coursed through your veins. It was a welcome feeling above all, as it was the same feeling when you first truly experienced happiness.

And what luck it was when the Iudex himself was passing by for a quick break, to take a tiny breather from the suffocating throes of workload that was hurled on him as one of his many responsibilities.

You perked up when you heard a pair of footsteps echo within the cavernous structure of the Palais Mermonia and you looked over your shoulder.

Suddenly, that nostalgic feeling increased and your heart throbbed and ached with so much longing.

Suddenly, the breeze felt like it did centuries ago.

Suddenly, the hard concrete floor felt like the gentle grass beneath you.

And suddenly, the man behind you felt like the bearer of your tears.

You took a moment before facing him and found a smidgen of confusion and surprise that broke through his otherwise stoic expression. You had heard his impartiality and people reveled in him, word of the mouth was that the great Iudex, Mister Neuvillette himself, was the very symbol of Justice in Fontaine.

You didn’t know whether or not it was a wasted chance, but it never occurred to you to even ask if he kept his promise.

To come back with the faintest memories of you.

Instead, you smiled, bowed so gracefully and respectfully to him like any other mortal who have heard of his achievements would.

But you had to give him a few words yourself; just for old time’s sake.

“Look at you now…”

Your voice, much like millions of years ago, held the same sweetness and fondness, honeyed to perfection that it can lull anyone within earshot to a sense of comfort and warmth. Your voice beckoned him to come closer.

And he does.

“You’re thriving so beautifully… living among humanity…”

You could see the way his breath hitch in his throat, and you stifle a tiny laugh and suppressed the nostalgic fondness and love in your heart that was close to bursting at the seams.

“You did well.”

And you left him then and there, like a soft breeze in passing, in search of the traveler and their tiny emergency sustenance, without you knowing, that for once, it wasn’t you who cried.

It’s true, the new Teyvat felt alien to you.

It is no longer your world, but theirs — they, the humanity that staked its claim and lived for generations, they, the creatures that survived every catastrophic event that struck this world, and they… the beings that claim dominion over it.

And as this world’s creator, you would do well to enact the safety of the life it nurtured, even if you were overshadowed by the very being that devastated you.

After all, with all the love in you, it would be hard not to share it with the world you once knew.

[sixoclockuty]

wish upon a shooting star.

[lilaccatholic]

I am once again thinking about the reluctant ruler whose arc justly and correctly includes assuming the throne and taking responsibility for the people set before them

[yarasa2k]

i felt bad not drawing them sooo...canon#4! she's the leader of the parallel canon squad and nobody knows if this is the real thing corrupted or an evil clone. including me, mr nogami explain pls

[bigboysteveharrington]

Jonathan Byers thinks that he and Argyle are just best friends that do everything together and tell each other everything and sometimes fall asleep in each other’s beds and that what they have is just what having a best friend is like since he’s never had friends, let alone a best friend before

But then one night they’re lying outside high and watching the stars and talking about dumb shit and then Argyle oh so casually rolls toward him and kisses him and Jonathan kisses him back automatically but it still takes him a moment to totally realize what’s happening and that he’s participating in it and enjoying it so when Argyle rolls back to where he was and goes back to pointing out his made up constellations with a slice of pizza, Jonathan’s just lying there on his back processing but Argyle just keeps talking away

It isn’t until Jonathan hasn’t pointed out any stars or made any comments for a few minutes that Argyle turns his head to look at Jonathan who is still staring up at the sky and asks, “You alright, man? You went all quiet on me” And Jonathan tells him “I’m fine. Just thinking”

Argyle points at the sky and asks “About how much the stars over there look like a bong?” and Jonathan laughs

Argyle leaves it at that for a minute, then asks “Are you freaked out? Because it’s totally my bad if I read into things the wrong way” And Jonathan tells him “You didn’t”

Because now that Argyle did kiss him and Jonathan enjoyed it and had his mind opened up to the possibility of there being something more going on with their dynamic, Jonathan’s realizing things haven’t really been as strictly platonic as he’d been thinking they were and that they’ve basically been dating without the kissing for a while so that was kind of a long time coming and Jonathan’s just glad Argyle was capable of reading into things enough to do anything about it

And in retrospect maybe the fact that his main example of what best friends are like is the Will and Mike situation where Will’s clearly in love with Mike and Mike’s seemingly oblivious to it didn’t help Jonathan with the whole not realizing that his feelings and the stuff they’d been up to wasn’t strictly platonic

Argyle asks, “So then what are you thinking about, dude?” And Jonathan says, “I was thinking I should go tell Will.”

Because Jonathan’s first thoughts were wait, am I dating Argyle? (which he’s still not 100% sure about but he’s thinking he basically is without the label) and then immediately after that thought came I should tell Will

Because he didn’t realize that he was interested in any guys at all until a few minutes ago, but he wants Will to know he’s not alone in it. And because he wants Will to know that even though it’s a lot harder for Will to find someone than it is for guys who like girls, there are still guys out there that like guys too and it’s still possible to find a guy that’ll be interested in you and willing to take a risk to show you

Jonathan tells Argyle that he was thinking about telling Will because it was what he was thinking about and so Argyle knows he’s going to say something and can stop him if he wants to. But he also tells him because he knows that Argyle picked up on the same things about Will and his feelings toward Mike that Jonathan did back when Mike visited. It’s not something they discussed at all, but he knows Argyle knows from the ways he reacted

And Argyle tells him “Go for it, bro”

When Will finds out he’s shocked at the news that Jonathan’s apparently into guys and girls and he’s relieved not to be alone and the family freak and he’s glad that they decided to tell him but he’s also bitter that Jonathan has known that he’s queer for like five minutes and he’s already with a guy (and to add extra salt in the wound, that guy is Jonathan’s best friends) while Will’s known that he was gay for practically his whole life but he still has no experience with any guys and no chance at ever having anything happen with his best friend

[beanghostprincess]

Zolusan (more Lusan than anything tho. Was supposed to be Lusan but my hand slipped) one-shot finished. 21544 words of Sanji having a whole breakdown over being in love with Luffy (and Zoro) and fearing not being human enough, and Luffy basically going: "You're an idiot. I love you. Zoro loves you too. Get loved, idiot".

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Here’s a sort of…. Prompt? Headcanon? Idea?? For Danny Phantom.

Let’s go with the,, semi-fanon idea of cores. We see the Far Frozen with ice powers, with their whole little civilization. They are ALSO the only ghosts we see that have any medical knowledge.

So what if ghosts with ice cores had healing powers? Danny is very durable, but he also (probably) has advanced healing.

Idk, it’d be a fun possibility to explore Danny ‘plays as a tank in irl superheroics 4 times out of 5’ Phantom finding out he can heal people while doing a school-mandated cpr class.

[teakoodrawz]

" I'm a Psycho, loving it~ "

[swan2swan]

Let's talk about what happened with Brookenji.

And no, I don't mean the fallout in Chaos Theory. I mean what happened in the original show. At least, what I believe happened. This is--mind you--total Conspiracy Board style speculation based on little pieces of evidence collected and gathered throughout my years looking into behind-the-scenes stuff and following social media. It would really help if I could find one particularly tweet, but I think it was deleted either in anticipation of spoilers or just because he regularly deletes them.

But...here's the one responsible for that:

Xi.

Xi was the Original Ben, as you can see. Young and nervous. While Ben was...

Well. Ben. Big Ben. But obviously the jock character. The tall, smarmy, rich white guy.

You may be able to see where this is going, but I submit this evidence to you from my memory, and you'll just have to trust me:

One of the showrunners of Camp Cretaceous tweeted ages ago (Season 1-2, well before Season 4 and the Nonsense), tweeted about how there's a disappointing lack of Asian romantic leads in media.

And you know what? He's right. Very much so! Think of ten major tentpole movies from the past thirty years and pull a Japanese, Korean, Chinese, or Vietnamese romantic lead. No, no, no, not the women! The men. An Asian man.

"Oh, well, Shang Chi--" no. Don't get cute.

The fact is, it's just...not a thing that happens. And I think one of the goals with Camp Cretaceous was to change that. Just like they struck ground with Yaz and Sammy being an interracial wlw romance in a children's cartoon, they were gonna put an Asian dude in the romantic partner position.

By now, you obviously see where this is going...and what happened:

If Xi had remained the scared kid, he would have fallen from the train. He would have grown in the jungle and emerged as a wild child. He would have an mmensely different feel in Season 3 where he was breaking away from the group and determining to stay on the island...until the end, when he bonded with the group.

And that is when Brooklynn--or Jules, rather--would have suddenly taken interest in him. Xi and Jules, the wild kid and the rich girl. It would be cute!

But they changed things and took them in a different direction--possibly pretty close to the time the show started. Which meant that the whole first half of the show barely had any setup planned for Kenji and Brooklynn, as they were now known...and they didn't really want to go with Ben and Brooklynn. Especially with how strong the dynamics between Ben and Bumpy and Ben and Darius became.

But they still had to set up the Brookenji romance, and the plans for OG Ben and his Rich Dad to shatter the group dynamic suddenly had to adjust...and you know what? Throwing the romantic strain into it was a pretty good idea! Not bad! But...with the timing of his arrival, the writers only had one season left to them. So they had to jam it all into one season, because there was a little race-swapping done at the last minute that wound up being super-crucial to the endgame.

And personally?

As messy as Brookenji was, I think it was better for them not to remain rigidly focused Xi-Jules and turn it into Ben-Brooklynn. While it would have neatly paired off everyone for the final seasons--Ben and Brooklynn having their Rich Girl/Wild Child romance, Kenji and Darius having their Friends-to-Brothers arc as Kenji betrays the group for his dad (SEE HOW SMOOTHLY THAT WORKS, TOO?), and Yaz and Sammy...well, you know...I think I like what we got with Ben a lot more.

But you can see how the original plan of broad strokes would have been a lot smoother. Turned out that the characters evolved more than planned. And obviously they could have stuck with the Kenji/Darius focus being the main fallout of the group...but that also sort of leaves Brooklynn high and dry with regards to the plot. What's she got left? Though, also...looking back on those seasons...even her romance with Kenji didn't do much for her. Probably because it wasn't really supposed to be a thing. We don't know what the plans for Jules were in the original script, but when those got ditched (PRESUMABLY. THIS IS ALL ME SPECULATING!!!), they had to scramble with her. Maybe she was supposed to have more parental issues. I dunno.

But whatever the truth is, I do still maintain that Kenji was written to be a romantic guy with that in mind. Listening to Brooklynn's color preferences, feeling awkward, being protective...eck, he even kept that rizz through to the new series:

But the bottom line is that Kenji isn't Xi. He didn't have the growth that was planned for Xi, which would have tsngentially influenced Brooklynn/Jules's sudden interest in him.

This is also one of the consequences that comes with having shows compressed and rushed so much in the modern era. If we'd been getting filler episodes over the seasons, they might have been able to start building Kenji and Brooklynn up during the E750 arc, if not sooner.

NOTE: I'm not sure what the scripting and planning timetables were with this show. But from what I've gathered, the characters were swapped well after the conceptual stages. And they made it work! There's still a coherent story! I think the sloppiness just came because they had to hurriedly change tracks on some parts, and we noticed.