#are any of my moots here still alive or

[lina-studen]

random shower thoughts regarding the thing that might be making lenore special (and the cause of her death).

tw: death, mentions of suic!de and related topics.

I don't have enough evidence, so I won't be upset if this theory turns out to be wrong, but just wanted to speculate.

lately I've been wondering a lot about what makes lenore different from everyone else in the eyes of the raven. she seems to be the only one who can understand him, and he believes that she may have similar abilities to the deans. as if she doesn't even belong in this academy, dare I say.

I've seen some people in the comments speculate that lenore might still be alive somehow, and is in a borderline state of sorts. I personally don't think that's the case, because in a hundred chapters of the comic, we haven't gotten any hints about it (if I recall correctly, don't quote me on that). what we have been getting hints about is that lenore most likely died from a gunshot to the head. moreover, the clues are both visual and verbal.

and from the very beginning of time, I was always sure that she ended her life herself. this is one of those headcanons (or headshot canons… sorry) that you just believe in until proven wrong. I'm not exactly sure why. perhaps due to analogies with other stories. for example, I recently compared "nevermore" to "death parade": the main character there also found herself in a purgatory situation and was the only one who couldn't remember her death. near the end of the anime it turns out (spoiler here) that she took her own life.

plus, it doesn't seem like such an impossible thing overall. whatever happened at that ill-fated wedding led to annabel lee's death. we still don’t know exactly who murdered her, but in any case it's connected to lenore, so she surely felt enormous guilt. put such a traumatic event in a mix with her not so stable mental state.

during her time at "nevermore", lenore experienced a lot of emotions: fear, sadness, anger, joy, love, pain, relief etc. but none of her experiences brought her closer to the recalling of her death and manifesting. but you know what emotions she didn’t feel? all-eating guilt, wanting to give up, simply not desiring to live… it's a big assumption, but let's say it's possible.

comparing this theory with my other speculation here, lenore might be the only one who's death wasn't caused by the third party.

maybe the cause of her death is the differentiating factor? what if she was supposed to go to another dimension? but for some reason she ended up in the same place as annabel (either because of their connection or because some purgatory secretary decided that self-murder is still murder blah-blah). and now the academy itself and its realm are trying to get rid of lenore, because she doesn't belong here.

sure, these are all far-fetched assumptions based on another speculation, but anything can happen. my moots encourage me to share such thoughts so… I do.

[jackoshadows]

I have come across some posts/comments saying that Jon Snow will stay as Jon Snow and will never become Jon Stark. Here's the thing though - Jon Snow IS already Jon Stark! He just doesn't know it yet.

As GRRM states:

Q: I have a question, since Robb actually  legitimized Jon and named him his heir for Winterfell and the North  before the Red Wedding (granted no one knows about this and is still  alive or free, the Greatjon knows as does Edmure, but I dont see them  getting out of the Twins any time soon and Catelyn would probably die  before telling anyone) does this make Jon’s rejection of Stannis’ offer  moot? A: Edmure and the Greatjon are prisoners, true… but you are forgetting  the envoys that Robb sent to Howland Reed… Galbart Glover, Maege  Mormont, Jason Mallister… they are all alive and free. As to what is and is not moot… the key point is, only a king can legitimize a bastard……

"Precedent," she said bitterly. "Yes, Aegon the Fourth legitimized all his bastards on his deathbed. And how much pain, grief, war, and murder grew from that? I know you trust Jon. But can you trust his sons? Or their sons? The Blackfyre pretenders troubled the Targaryens for five generations, until Barristan the Bold slew the last of them on the Stepstones. If you make Jon legitimate, there is no way to turn him bastard again. Should he wed and breed, any sons you may have by Jeyne will never be safe." - Catelyn, ASoS

Robb stood, and as quick as that, her fate was settled. He picked up a sheet of parchment. "One more matter. Lord Balon has left chaos in his wake, we hope. I would not do the same. Yet I have no son as yet, my brothers Bran and Rickon are dead, and my sister is wed to a Lannister. I've thought long and hard about who might follow me. I command you now as my true and loyal lords to fix your seals to this document as witnesses to my decision." A king indeed, Catelyn thought, defeated. She could only hope that the trap he'd planned for Moat Cailin worked as well as the one in which he'd just caught her. - Catelyn, ASoS

So it is done. King in the North Robb Stark has already legitimized Jon Snow as Jon Stark. Edmure Tully, GreatJon Umber, Maege Mormont, Galbart Glover and Jason Mallister all now know that Jon Snow is Jon Stark.

They just have not managed to either get word to him (Edmure and the GreatJon being prisoners) or for reasons unknown - most probably because of the Boltons squatting in Winterfell with Northmen as Lannister hostages and Stannis engaged in a campaign in the North - have just not informed Jon about this.

This right here is strong foreshadowing for Jon Stark as King in the North through Robb's Will:

Stannis read from the letter. "Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is STARK. A girl of ten, you say, and she presumes to scold her lawful king." - Jon I, ADwD

At this point it's clearly implied that Lyanna Mormont has heard from her mother. Maege Mormont - who is witness to Robb's last will and decree which names Jon Stark as KITN - is last seen heading to the Neck with her daughters.

Catelyn wondered if Lady Maege had reached the Neck as yet. She had taken her other daughters with her, but as one of Robb’s battle companions Dacey had chosen to remain by his side. - Catelyn, ACoK

In ADwD, Alysane mentions that two of her sisters are with their mother. Which makes it clear that she has heard from Maege.

"Sisters," Alysane Mormont replied, gruff as ever. "Five, we were. All girls. Lyanna is back on Bear Island. Lyra and Jory are with our mother. Dacey was murdered." "The Red Wedding." - The King's Prize, ADwD

Which then implies that Lyanna Mormont has heard from her mother and her declaration is for Jon Stark.

Now of course they could be talking about Rickon Stark, if Maege and Galbart Glover managed to communicate with Robett Glover and Manderly has let them know that Rickon is still alive. However, keeping in mind that Galbart Glover was also witness to King Robb's last decree which legitimizes Jon Snow as Jon Stark, it's very possible this is about Jon Stark as well.

The next paragraph just hits us over the head with foreshadowing that more or less confirms that this is about Jon Stark.

Maege Mormont had ridden south with Robb, Jon knew. Her eldest daughter had joined the Young Wolf's host as well. Even if both of them had died, however, Lady Maege had other daughters, some with children of their own. Had they gone with Robb as well? Surely Lady Maege would have left at least one of the older girls behind as castellan. He did not understand why Lyanna should be writing Stannis, and could not help but wonder if the girl's answer might have been different if the letter had been sealed with a direwolf instead of a crowned stag, and signed by Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell. It is too late for such misgivings. You made your choice. - Jon I, ADwD

Yes Jon, the answer would have been different because Lyanna straight out just declared for YOU! He just doesn't know it yet.

Jon took a knee. The king frowned at him, and rattled the parchment angrily. Rise. Tell me, who is Lyanna Mormont? One of Lady Maeges daughters, Sire. The youngest. She was named for my lord fathers sister.

The fact that it's LYANNA Mormont making this declaration - which GRRM reminds us of in the same discussion when Jon tells Stannis that she is named after his father's sister - just sweetens the whole deal!

[muffinlance]

I was wondering... Is there a Salvage headcanon where they did break Zuko's leg? If no one (including you ofc) ever did it, you can treat it as a prompt!!

So many angsty possibilities, and as much as I love and adore the original plot.... man, I'm so curious what would happen.

So what I’m hearing is that you like pain. Who am I to deny you?

(You can also read this on AO3.)

* * *

“Chief?” Aake repeated, kneeling over the still struggling boy. Pinning him down. 

The prince wasn’t even fully lucid, and this was already his second escape attempt. He’d tried to firebend at Hakoda’s crew, with only his own fever to stop him. He was a child, by any reasonable standards; but a soldier, by his own nation’s, with the training to match. He was only going to get more dangerous. If the Fire Nation wanted to set the terms of this war, then be it on Ozai’s head. 

“One,” Hakoda said. One leg had to be enough, to keep the young soldier down.

* * *

When Zuko’s fever broke, he had a black bruise around his wrist the size of a grown man’s hand, and a broken leg the storm hadn’t given him. 

He had to get off this ship.

* * *

The prince knocked out two of Hakoda’s men. Sent another three to Healer Kustaa, with firebending that had thankfully been more concussive than blistering. Oh, and he’d managed to shove one of their tenders overboard. So now they were having to turn around to search for that, in the dark.

He’d half-way gotten himself overboard, too. It was anyone’s guess whether he’d have landed close enough to that boat to make it, with the weight of his cast dragging him down. 

A moot point, as he struggled in Aake’s grip.

“I did say legs,” the man joked, humorlessly.

Hakoda tried to meet the prince’s eyes, but the soldier was too intent on battering himself against Aake’s hold. He met his crewman’s eyes, instead. Nodded.

Aake sighed. “Right. This is happening, kid. Hold still this time if you want it to be clean.”

The prince, eerily, did hold still. He didn’t scream. He hadn’t last time, either.

* * *

(Father hadn’t stopped burning him until he’d stopped screaming.)

* * *

“It’s coca-poppy, Prince Zuko,” Healer Kustaa said, from behind a re-locked door. “It will help with the pain.”

“I know what it is,” the prince shouted. “I don’t want it.”

Across the passageway, behind the door of his own cabin, Hakoda composed another ransom letter. This one ended up crumpled on his floor, too.

How did you tell a father that you’d broken both his boy’s legs? Things would be easier if— 

Well. They still had that interrogation to get through, before he saw whether there’d be an if.

* * *

“She was alive when I last saw her. Your son, too. Sir.”

“...With the Avatar,” Hakoda repeated.

“Yes,” the prince said, staring up at the sickbay ceiling. “...Sir.”

Hakoda rubbed his temples. “I’ll be confirming your story. Until then: ship rules. You already know the price of escape. You have two more limbs, Prince Zuko; take more care with them. Firebend at my men again, or damage my ship, and your chances are done. You’re going to stay in here and obey every order our healer gives you, or I’ll be back in for another talk. Am I clear?”

“Yes. Sir.”

Sweat was beading on the prince’s forehead. His hands kept clenching and unclenching around his blankets. Let him be in pain, if he wanted; Kustaa had already offered him an out.

* * * 

The doctor on Zuko’s ship had started him on coca-poppy before he’d known he was on a ship. Before he remembered what had happened, before his vision was clear enough to read the banishment notice for himself. Uncle had fussed over every little sound he made, and made sure Zuko drank every dose.

It took him a year and a half to get back off it.

* * *

Kustaa had prescribed at least an hour on deck each day. Firebenders and sunlight, or something. The prince sullenly allowed himself to be carried by a crewman and propped up out of the way. 

Panuk watched him watching the waves. He went below deck, and came back with a plate. Set it on the deck between them, and sat himself down next to it.

“Drowning is not a pretty way to go,” he said conversationally, between bites of smoked fish the prince was pointedly not sharing.

“Is being murdered by savages any better?” the prince snapped, finally looking away from the water. 

Panuk chewed. Swallowed. Used his foot to nudge the plate against the prince’s leg. Above the break, obviously.

“Are you going to eat?”

The prince looked… really confused. He looked down at the plate, then back up at Panuk, then around them, like he was looking for a net about to fall.

Which explained why he’d snubbed Toklo yesterday, when their youngest crewman had tried to have lunch with him.

“It’s common to share meals in the Southern Tribes,” Panuk said. “If someone sets a plate down next to you, it’s probably for sharing.”

“...Oh,” said the prince. He picked up a piece. Ate it, slowly, while sneaking glances over at Panuk. Ate the second a lot faster.

“We’d make it quick,” Panuk said. “If your dad doesn’t meet Hakoda’s demands, or if you screw up again. Quicker than the ocean would, at least.”

“...I don’t want the Leg Breaker to do it. Or the Chief.”

“I could volunteer. If it comes to it.”

“...Okay,” the prince said, and ate a third fish. And a fourth. 

“How old are you, anyway?” Panuk asked, eyebrow raised.

Prince Zuko, fearsome prisoner of the Akhlut, was sixteen years old. 

* * *

Prince Zuko, sixteen-year-old prisoner of the Akhlut, was bored.

“What?” he snapped at the healer, who’d stopped to give him that disappointed stare.

“How did you even reach that?” the man asked.

Zuko hunched over his borrowed book, and didn’t answer.

“Ask next time. I’ll help you get them down.”

Then the man went back to doing whatever it was he did in here, with all his powders and ointments. Maybe Zuko would understand, if he read far enough.

“Ask if you have questions, too,” Not-Uncle said.

…So Zuko did.

* * *

General Fong wanted the kid. General Fong wanted a lot of things he couldn’t have.

We have secured his cooperation, Hakoda wrote back. While I thank you for your offer, we do not anticipate the need for army assistance during the negotiation process—

* * * 

Hakoda tried not to go into the healer’s cabin without cause. It was unpleasant, the way the boy spooked every time a crewman stepped in. The way he watched them with those wolf-hawk eyes, coiled like a pit-viper-leopard ready to spring, broken legs or no. But the door was open, and…

“Just pet him. Come on, one itty-bitty little ruffle-wuffle…” Toklo cajoled, pushing a growling isopuppy towards the prince’s face.

“No. He’s going to maul me,” the prince snapped, holding one of Kustaa’s medical texts between them like a shield.

“That was not a mauling,” said Panuk. “That was barely one itty-bitty little blood-draw. Just shove the seal jerky between his teeth when he lunges, then pet him. We’ll train him that you mean food—”

“How is that going to help with the biting?” the prince demanded.

Hakoda backed away before he could be seen. 

…Apparently there were exceptions, in who the prince himself wouldn’t maul. 

* * *

Apparently Hakoda’s dog was now one of those exceptions.

Fire Nation sympathizer.

* * * 

Bato came back.

“So,” his second-in-command said. “Fire Prince in the sickbay, huh?”

Hakoda groaned into his hands.

* * *

“Did you name the dog?” the prince asked Bato. The kid was sitting up in his bed, propped up on pillows, draped in at least three layers of furs and an oversized coat. Which explained where Kustaa’s had gone. He was, inexplicably, holding one of Kustaa’s medicine jars between his hands.

“Interrogating the prisoner already, nephew?” Kustaa asked, setting out the last of his supplies. Then he reached for the bandages. Bato braced himself.

“Did you?” the kid said. And then, after a delay: “You are not my uncle.”

“At least wait for the torture to get started,” Bato said, through gritted teeth, as Kustaa tugged the edge of his bandage loose in what was probably the gentlest way but felt anything but. 

He couldn’t have said if the prince kept pressing the matter, after that. Not until Kustaa was spreading on that miracle salve of his. In its tiny jar. Its tiny, near-empty jar.

“...Are we out of that stuff?” Bato asked, with some trepidation.

“We’re making more,” Kustaa said.

…The jar between the kid’s hands was steaming now. And he was still scowling.

“He volunteered,” the healer added, cleaning up.

Huh.

“I was making fun of Hakoda,” Bato said. “Not his son. Sokka’s a good kid.”

“So name the dog Hakoda,” the Fire Prince said, with a scowling seriousness that made the joke even better. 

* * *

“Good boy, Hakoda. Who’s our Chief Woofer? Is it you? Is it you? Yes it is!”

“I hate you,” Hakoda said. “Go back to the nuns.”

The pupper thumped his tail against the deck, and barked for more jerky. Who was Bato to deny his chief?

* * *

“Wait,” Bato said, stretching his burned arm out slowly, and staring at the newest medicine pot the kid was heating. “Didn’t Hakoda order you not to bend?”

He’d never seen golden eyes that wide, or a pot boil over that fast.

* * *

“So,” Bato said, leaning against Hakoda’s doorway. “You ordered the kid not to firebend, but you also ordered him to follow Kustaa’s orders. Guess what Kustaa’s had him doing?”

“He what,” Hakoda said, standing. He marched across the hall, to where his healer was rubbing some kind of salve on their prisoner’s hands. “You have him firebending?”

Somehow, the kid’s eyes got even wider.

* * *

So. It turned out the prince needed to meditate. Badly.

* * *

The Fire Lord’s first reply arrived. Hakoda took in some meditative breaths of his own, then made sure the isopuppy followed him across to the healer’s cabin. 

“Prince Zuko,” he said. Levelly. Reasonably. After his dog had jumped up into the kid’s arms. “Can you tell me why your father thinks the letter you sent him was a forgery?”

“It wasn’t,” the prince said, like that was the issue.

Hakoda pinched the bridge of his nose. 

* * *

They needed proof of life. Proof they had the kid at all. 

The Fire Lord’s son got a haircut. 

Hakoda would have had Aake do it, but Panuk volunteered. Their second-youngest crewman and the prince had a brief stare off, before the prince lowered his head for the knife. Panuk did it in one slice; handed it off to Hakoda, without looking at him. Then he sat down behind the kid, and tidied up the cut. The prince had already been growing stubble over the rest of his scalp; it was just a matter of evening it out.

Hakoda sent the long phoenix plume with his next reply.

* * * 

The Fire Lord responded with fingers. 

* * *

The kid saved Kustaa’s life. Had the burns to show for it, too. 

* * *

He still expected Hakoda to take his.

Maybe in some other life, Hakoda would have known how to reassure him. In this one, he stepped out of his cabin, and sent in his dog and Kustaa.

* * *

It was… unpleasant, having someone on his ship that was afraid of him. Someone who wasn’t an enemy.

The kid could walk around now, some, with the crutches their ship’s carpenter had made for him. His burns were healing well; Bato had inducted him into the Burned Arm Club, which had an elite membership of two. No, the prince insisted, the time Toklo had accidentally burned himself on a ship’s lamp didn’t count. This, despite his own protests over the club’s very existence. 

He’d started yelling at the crewmen who—quote—wasted medical supplies by doing the same stupid things to themselves again—end quote. 

He didn’t even avoid Aake, though the Leg Breaker name had stuck, and spread amongst the crew.

“I understand the chain of command,” the kid said, stiffly, when Hakoda had asked. 

It had been Aake’s suggestion. But it had been Hakoda’s orders.

Hakoda watched the kid brought to tears over sea prunes. To laughter, when Bato figured out he was ticklish. The kid started warming up the crew’s breakfast in the mornings, because he was up anyway, and because he could. 

He… wasn’t a bad kid. But he’d never be one of Hakoda’s. 

* * *

General How sent a letter. It was significantly more diplomatic than the latest from Fong. 

—a child of such value in an active warzone. Likewise, the prince should be continuing his tutelage in matters of state and such subjects as befit his station and future, and to build in him an appreciation for the support a joint backing by our nations could provide. You would be welcome to send with him a delegation representing Southern Water Tribe interests—

* * *

“You’re selling me to the Earth Kingdom,” the prince said, sitting across from Hakoda at the desk. 

“I’m…” There would be no money exchanged in the transaction. But that didn’t change its nature. “...It’s the best circumstances I can provide for you, Prince Zuko.”

“It’s just Zuko,” the prince said. “I’m banished. And dead. Remember? Sir.”

Hakoda sighed. “Pack your things, Zuko.”

The prince looked at him a moment more, then left. It wasn’t until later that Hakoda realized the boy didn’t have anything to pack. He’d come to him with the clothes on his back, and that was how he’d leave.

* * * 

The Water Tribe delegation consisted of Toklo and Panuk. Kustaa was needed on the ship. 

“Look, they sent a carriage,” Toklo said, leaning over the rail. The General’s men were already waiting for them on the docks. 

“Fancy,” Panuk said.

None of them mentioned the prince’s continued need for crutches, nor the impossibility of him making the trip by ostrich-horse. Hakoda was glad the general had sent a carriage, rather than a wagon. It was a relatively auspicious start.

The boy himself was sitting on a barrel, his crutches propped beside him. The isopup leaned against his legs, three hind pereopods drumming against the deck as he enjoyed a good ear scratching. It was impossible to explain to him that this was the last he’d get from firebender-warm hands. Or that when he scratched at the healer’s cabin tonight, there’d only be an empty bed inside. The boy had slept with Hakoda’s dog more in the past months than Hakoda had during this entire voyage. 

Hakoda cleared his throat. The boy didn’t startle, thankfully. 

“What?” he asked, eyes on the soldiers waiting for him, as their crew tied up to the pier.

“You could… take him with you,” Hakoda said. “The dog. He’s more yours than mine, these days.”

The prince’s breathing hitched. His hand stopped scratching, which led to nuzzling and play-nibbles, before he resumed. 

“I can’t,” he said. “I don’t know if they’ll hurt him.”

Hakoda didn’t make any other offers. 

His crew secured the boarding ramp. 

“It’s your last chance,” Panuk said, giving the boy a nudge. “Go.”

And then the prince was hugging their healer, and if he was crying, that was between him and the man’s shirt. The kid was still wearing Kustaa’s oversized coat. 

“You’re still not my uncle,” he said, into the man’s shoulder.

“You don’t get to choose your uncles, brat,” Kustaa said, hugging his nephew back.

* * *

The isopuppy prowled the ship all night, searching.

* * *

After the war—after the coalition of nations, after that uneasy alliance with the Dragon of the West and the sharp-toothed smiles he had specifically for Hakoda, after the peace talks and the compromises—

After. 

The new Fire Lord had a council with all nations represented. Hakoda sent Bato, and Sokka. Panuk was already there. Toklo had gone home, to a sister that didn’t remember him, but was still young enough to accept him back within the week. 

Katara left for the Fire Nation, too, when news reached them of the Avatar finally being found. She joined the other Southern healer in residence in managing his care. If Kustaa resented a teenager whose qualifications consisted of “magic water” stepping into his domain, Hakoda never heard of it. And he did still hear from the man, in the occasional letter home.

The Avatar, one letter read, was extremely pleased to have graduated to a cane matching his nephew’s. His nephew was less enthused.

* * *

Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe was not invited to the coronation of Fire Lord Zuko.

[le-trash-prince]

I was clawing up the wall this week at the fact that we didn't get any scenes indicating if Dome is still alive or if he really blinked out of existence the moment Tonkla looked at him! I know this show won't give me the satisfaction of knowing things but I still wish we had something!

We DID get to see Manee though, the first person whose life Great saved, and she's obviously alive enough to be out here hiring hitmen. Unlike Dome, however, Manee has no one left to mourn her, so (if my theory thoughts hold true), she would remain alive indefinitely, unless there were a total reboot and we return to an unaltered reality.

But unlike Manee, Nan does have someone left to mourn her- Tyme, but Tyme's perception of reality is tied to Great's, so he doesn't know that she ever died.

This theory really does hinge on knowing what state Dome is in after being perceived by Tonkla. If he's still alive in any fashion, then it's more of a timelines-crossing scenario. But if he's completely vanished, then he was in a state of both-alive-and-dead until Tonkla looked at him.

I think this also ties into beliefs surrounding funerals and what happens when no one sends the dead on their way. Dome, Manee, and Nan are all lingering spirits, and Dome is the only one who's had his funeral rites performed.

But then we could end up seeing him walking around in a later ep and all this would be a moot point lmao.

An aside related to Manee: I don't really believe that the events we've been seeing exist only in Great's head. It's possible that if Great and Tyme's minds are connected, then things exist in both of their heads and not in the real world. But it's definitely not only in Great's head: because he knew nothing about Manee's son. It was only Tyme who knew that her son had killed himself due to debt. I don't think it would be a jump in logic to assume that he connected the dots to Great's family, but we're not shown that he knows this for sure. Regardless of that fact, if this were all an unreal out-of-body experience, it's only Tyme's knowledge that would enable Manee to hire someone to shoot Great's mom.

[thelunarsystemwrites]

Guys....

As of February 16th, Friday, 2024...

WE. HIT. 100. FOLLOWERS.

I just—How!? That's amazing! I'm so so so SO happy to have all of you here!!!

That's like, a hundred people who enjoy my stuff?? And, I'm not trying to brag! I'm fact, I'm trying to say thank you, to everyone whose seen my stuff and helped me get this far!!!

@pepsifvcker23 — You. Are. Awesome. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise! I love your writing and I love the OCs I've seen from you!! When we talk? It's straight up gold, you're a great friend to me!!

@screwnames-ihatenames — You're the reblog ruler, you've kept posts alive by taking time out of your day to reblog again and again, and you do this without thanks... Well, we should thank you, so thank you!

@leartistickarma — Not only are you an amazing roleplayer, but you're also an AU genius!! I am, genuinely honoured to be able to work with you on these things!

@nobodys-reblogs — I aspire to be able to draw like you can, but you're not just an artist, and full of creative ideas. You're a kind person, I can tell! You leave kind words wherever you go, and you're an inspiration to me!

@dustsansm1 — You're chill as ice and the world's best simp, any time I talk to you reminds me how grateful I am to have you as a moot!

@jazzy-jazzz — You're part of my family, okay? I know we don't talk often now, but I still consider you a dear friend!

@pixieperson19 — Aghghhhghghhh I miss you!! You were a huge supporter on my a03, and you're still really close to me!

@rockydonetale — I may not know everything about what you do and don't like, or your AU, but I feel like I know you. I know you're struggling, and I just wanted to say thank you, for supporting me, and working with me!

@kiyo-void — You're definitely an inspiration for my content, and I feel like you should be recognized as such!!

Again, thank you everyone!!! It means the world to me! <3 And I'm hoping one day, I can look back, and see how far I've come! But, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you all!!

And of course, this calls for a DTIYS!! (Draw this in your style!)

I thought Matcha would be rather fitting for it! Rules are simple: This is just for fun, so no prizes! (However, if there's one I particularly like, I'll offer you a custom biblically inaccurate bunny, or maybe a headshot!)

Theres no time limit!

You can change the pose (Which is highly encouraged!), restyle the dress, or even change the Sans as long as it's still a Lust sans! ♡

There's also this version!

And of course, tag me in it! I'd love to see! ^^

Once again, thank you everyone for being here!!

[bebx]

So I'm not in the Harrow fandom but like, what would happen if he met Henry (or Eddie because I'm biased w my boys) or Jack?

Harrow is a crime show from what I can tell?

Just curious what your thoughts are.

*for my other moots and followers, this is about Henry Creel from Stranger Things, not Henry Morgan from Forever (though I love both Henry’s very dearly).

okay, a little background for my beloved Doctor Daniel Harrow (played by the one and only Ioan Gruffudd)

Doctor Harrow is the main protagonist of a series called Harrow, and he’s a talented pathologist who’s… well, highly stubborn, so he doesn’t follow the rules and always does things his own way. he can be reckless and arrogant, some people call him selfish (also a pain in the ass) but in a good way, and he’s a good person. (he’s also extremely gorgeous it’s insane.)

so basically in the show, we often see Harrow conduct an autopsy to determine the cause of each body’s death. except that sometimes (most of the times) Harrow does more than his job description says, and goes out of his way to investigate things by himself if he suspects a foul play was involved. and he’s always right and basically he’s the one who solves crimes with his stubbornness and recklessness and also his talent.

I love this show so so very much. it’s so very good, one of the best shows I’ve ever watched, and it means so much to me (and I need a season 4).

now back to your ask! I call it a sign because a crossover between Harrow and Henry Creel is actually something I’d been thinking about writing for like a couple of months now. then I got your ask and I was like ‘now this is a sign. I really have to write it into existence!’.

so here it is: a modern age AU Stranger Things where Henry and Harrow met!

anyway, I think, if we’re talking about canon Stranger Things, I think Harrow would never be okay with Henry’s actions, what he did (the massacre, which, for the sake of the plot, never happened in the crossover fic I wrote). he would never condone the abuse Henry went through, but that didn’t mean he’d think the massacre Henry committed in canon could ever be justified.

I mean… I don’t know, that didn’t mean Harrow wouldn’t understand either (understanding something =/= condoning or justifying something). because, in the series, Harrow himself also had his own dark secrets that he had to hide. so I think… Harrow would understand why young Henry felt the need to kill his parents. but adult Henry who murdered those kids in canon? yeah, I think that would be another story.

from how I see it, if Harrow could, he would have done anything and everything to stop adult Henry from hurting innocent people. that meant either he or Henry would end up dead, because Henry would have to kill him first if he wanted to go ahead and hurt those innocent people.

however, Harrow also had the tendency to do anything and everything to protect the people that he loved. so I think it would depend on who Henry was to Harrow. if Henry wasn’t a friend, then I think Harrow would stop at nothing until he stopped Henry (and yes, that meant either Henry killed him or he killed Henry). but if they were friends, then I think that would be where things got complicated. because while, in canon, Harrow used to break laws to protect people he cared about, what adult Henry did was still something I really don’t think Harrow could ever accept or condone. so, even if they were friends, I think Harrow would still do anything in his power to stop Henry. he would hope he could stop him by putting him behind bars so that Henry was at least alive and so that Harrow could try to help him walk the right path, but if his hands were tied and if stopping Henry meant killing Henry, I think Harrow would probably go with it still, only because he didn’t have any other choice. and then he’d probably blame himself, thinking maybe if he’d done something differently he could have saved Henry. but basically Harrow would end up with yet another lifelong trauma.

(good thing is that the angst isn’t this severe in that crossover fic I wrote, so don’t worry, they’re both okay there!)

moving on to Eddie Munson. if Harrow met Eddie, oh I think that would be interesting and nope, it wouldn’t be anywhere as angsty as his meeting with Henry, that was for sure.

I think Harrow would see Eddie as a son, and Eddie would see Harrow as a father figure of sorts, a role model even.

in the show, Harrow did (almost) have a troubled son whom he looked after. I think if he met Eddie and if Eddie had a rough childhood, was somewhat troubled, then Harrow would step in and look after him.

As for Jack Sparrow, I think these two would probably find each other annoying at first. But after some rum, I believe they would be some sorts of a chaotic duo who caused shenanigans together.

Harrow and Jack are actually alike in several ways in my opinion: both are stubborn, reckless and Harrow sure can be mischievous.

so yes, him and Jack together would be hella fun.

[ceasarslegion]

Ive made my stance on oppenheimer discourse very clear but one detail of it that really bothers me is the "movies about sad white men are always bad" attitude, and i didnt really know why until i was able to sit down and parse it out.

Here's the thing. I have a film degree, I've spent more time in movie theaters than I have sleeping and I've easily seen more films and shows than all of my peers combined. Which isn't a flex btw, I'm a little hermit who prefers the warm embrace of a cinema seat to human connection and is the most annoying mfer imaginable during family movie night; don't be like me.

But I know hollywood, I know cinema history, and I know the legitimate frustration this attitude comes from. Hollywood doesn't like to take risks, they have to historically be dragged kicking and screaming into any territory that isn't a guaranteed profit, which usually means that we get periods of stagnation where every film is the same goddamn formula over and over again until audiences get sick of it and stop buying tickets en masse. Hollywood also tends to reflect the dominant culture and the sociopolitical issues of the time, but not SOOO much that you'd rock the boat. As an exec, you wanna hit that sweet spot where audiences relate to your films without them being so blatant that they'd cause them to question things that weren't acceptable to question. Noir was a picture-perfect example of that.

And in the modern day, that DOES tend to translate into the weird genre of Sad White Man Who Regrets Killing Foreigners movies. Like American Sniper. But I've seen American Sniper, so I can speak on how lowkey disturbing I found it, and the history it's based in and the goals it had as an art piece were to make you sympathize with a system of corruption. And here's my unpopular opinion: if done RIGHT, those films still have a place within the cinematic sphere of influence, like if you made a film exploring the psyche and experiences of what leads a man to willingly participate in a system like that, but that's not really what it was.

Now let's move onto Oppenheimer and other films like it. I don't think these films are at ALL equivalent to films like American Sniper, even if they follow a sad white man who regrets killing foreigners. You are looking at the bare bones surface level of it and assuming its contents both real world and dramatized and judging it based on that instead of the, well, actual film.

One of the biggest differences here is that Oppenheimer WAS an important historical figure just, objectively. Even removing all western racial influence from the equation, you can not look me in the eyes and tell me that the man who invented the atomic bomb in the middle of the largest world war of modern history was not an important historical figure. If you try to make THAT argument just based on the sad white man-ness of him, I'm sorry but your point is already moot, because it's not based in historical fact anymore but your own personal subjective feelings. He IS an important historical figure, he's not soldier number 648 in the middle of a massive battlefield who followed other peoples orders.

And also to be completely honest, you are a huge fucking liar if you try to claim that people like Dr. Oppenheimer are not interesting. Flawed people who make flawed decisions with complicated variables are what make for good fiction, so when one exists in the historical record, of course they are going to interest people. They are going to be studied and interviewed if they're still alive and have their entire lives and every word they said picked apart and analyzed because they are interesting. You are straight up lying if you try to act like these people arent interesting enough on their own to have media made about them, regardless of what identity they had that fits into the opposing side of the 21st centure culture wars. This attitude reminds me a lot of the people who claim that the only reason anybody could find true crime interesting is because they MUST want to fuck jeffrey dahmer or whatever. The argument just doesnt hold up because all it takes is one person going "thats not what i find interesting about them" to collapse that entire absolutist argument.

So yes, hollywood absolutely has a racism and war glorification issue. But I take issue when these accusations are just made blindly against any historical dramatization based on nothing but the poster. If you're going to talk about hollywoods sad white men issue, at least make sure the films youre citing actually fit that bill AND that you actually understand whats WRONG with those sad white men movies, because its not just the presence of a sad white male protagonist, its a conglomerate of various sociopolitical issues that must be present within those characters and what they represent.

[jennilah]

i woke up and chose violence today

rant below!! an actual soapbox rant about some shit that annoys tf out of me

but still under a cut and unrebloggable bc im still a coward just an annoyed coward

"_ fandom is dead"

"the tumblr/twitter fandom is dead"

"any variation of a fandom being dead"

Im about to be under your bed

Is it really dead?

well considering im still following some moots of over 10+ years that still regularly reblog new art and fics for fandoms Ive seen called "dead" many times in the past, fandoms that havent had new content in years, it's probably not

also, the older the fandom, consider how much more ridiculous your claim is. if the media is from fucking 20 years ago and still getting art and fic in any capacity, I dont wanna hear shit about shit being "dead" because there was a slow month of content on tumblr.com

What is really happening?

well if its for an ongoing fandom and there's a noticeable slow period, ask yourself... are we in-between episodes? in-between movies? in-between games? the fandom is not dead, sheesh. everything naturally slows down a while after canon content stops being made. doesn't mean it's dead.

what is happening is that artists and fic writers and other fandom enjoyers that are still out here making plenty of "content" for you (to absorb in 2 seconds and then demand more like they're machines, btw) see your dumb little comment and look around like ???

like ok what am I, chopped liver? I'm still out here making plenty of content, am i dead to you?

what are you doing to keep the active community alive and motivated? are you actually liking and sharing their art? reading their fics and leaving nice comments?

orrrrrrrr do you only care when its your favorite artists making content?

its like. very obvious when its the biggest artists who arent making art anymore cause they moved to a new fandom or whatever and suddenly here come the "the fandom is dead" posts

i know from experience that it just makes everyone else feel like they dont "count." theyre just the backup "favorite" artists when the real "favorite" artists are away, because you don't have a choice anymore.

it feels so god damn disrespectful and dismissive. like thank god i will draw whatever tf i want whether it gets 1 like or 3000 but whenever i see that kind of comment I cant help but go "well the fandom is dead apparently so I guess I'll just throw my ideas and wips away huh???"

and most people are kind. i dont think those big artists would be very happy to hear you're dismissing an entire fandom's worth of creativity just because they havent drawn for it in a while

i keep saying artist but this goes for anyone who contributes to fandom in any way. even just posting headcanons and stuff is participation. and those fics need people to read them, after all.

ive yet to see any fandom actually die. but you will kill your creators' motivation if you keep saying its dead

[the-fenton-anticreep-stick]

@little-pondhead i wanted to add more to the fic from ask I sent you and that you added to so I did :3 (in a separate post because I’ll probably add even more, and others are welcome to as well!! and i didnt want to take up people’s entire dashes snfnfj) @cinturon-cadena

Dan had never quite mastered portals or long-distance teleportation, and he doubted he would be able to while he was so limited by this form, but it was a moot point when his top speed was far faster than Danny’s and he had Clockwork’s Time-Outs at his disposal. He took a quick trip around the globe, tipping over landmarks, moving some buildings, splashing around in some foul-smelling pools of ectoplasm and stealing some left shoes from the ninjas guarding said pools.

Once he was pleased with his mischief, (and more importantly: starting to get hungry,) he headed towards the familiar feel of the cursed city. It was significantly less destroyed than he had left it the last time he’d visited. He understood the necessity of Clockwork’s interference, but it was still disappointing. He had put effort into such widespread destruction!

At least the city’s curse-spirit-mind-whatever it was didn’t remember what he’d done, and as such no longer wanted to give him a slow and torturous End. That didn’t mean it approved of him being there, though.

Time unpaused and he’d barely had the chance to tear down some walls before Gotham slunk out of the shadows.

“Calm yourself!” He growled as he squirmed out of its grasp, wishing he could still turn his form into mist. Intangibility was of little use with a creature like this. “I’m not here for you, or any of those mortals you are so fond of.”

Gotham screeched, and if he had bones, several of them would have undoubtedly been broken. "You are Other! An outsider! You are not welcome here!" It’s voice mingled with the screams of the alarms and the shouts of inmates and guards alike. “You set the Madness loose!“

Their tussle was nonexistent to the mortals as they rolled beneath and through stampeding feet, clawing at each other like alley cats. “All in good fun, Gotham!” He snarled and bit through one of the tendrils intent on relieving him of his eyes. He grimaced at the sludgy texture. “Time Itself sends me, to play with your favored mortals and avenge your dead!”

“You are evil! You will cause harm!“ Gotham screeched.

Dan rolled his eyes. “I will kill the insect who terrorizes what is yours,” He promised as if it were an offering to her, and not something he’d been planning for some time. (Danny had been so upset when the insect who called itself the Batman and its brood were absent from one of his schemes, because they were busy with this Joker insect. It was annoying. No insect, no need for Danny to complain. Danny had even agreed to the plan!) “Decide his fate, and I will enact it!”

The city’s spirit relaxed its grip on him. “You swear it? You will rid me of him, you will leave my Knights alone?"

“I’ll leave them alive.” Unless they challenged him. Then he would destroy them. But that didn’t need to be said.

“I will watch you..." Gotham slipped back into the shadows.

“Oh, how spooky.” Dan grumbled sarcastically as he shook himself in a vain attempt to remove the lasting sensation of Gotham’s touch.

That little disagreement had eaten up much of his precious time before the heroes of this realm could catch up to him. He lifted himself off the floor, startling a few inmates, and surveyed the chaos for a moment, selecting the perfect target. He darted towards the plant themed-villain- Poison Ivy, if he recalled correctly. (He always did.)

The woman staggered, clutching at her head as she tried to force him out. Overriding her will was laughably easy, but he admired her attempt to fight.

“Ah- Hey! You leave her alo- EEP!” With a flick of Ivy’s wrist, Dan suspended the other- Harley, Ivy’s memories named her, -in the air, leaving her dangling from some vines. The baseball bat she’d tried to clobber him with fell to the floor. He kicked it aside as he strode down the hall.

“I’ll give her back.” He said with a shrug, overexerting the woman’s powers to restrain every person he could find within the prison. His plants dragged all the pitiful, trapped mortals to the largest room available, stringing them up from the ceiling in cocoons like the insects they were. There. That would make it easier to find that awful clown.

Unless he’d already escaped. That would be unfortunate. Not for Dan, of course, but unfortunate for anyone who got in the way while he searched the city. And unfortunate for that clown, when Dan caught up.

The clown wasn’t in Arkham, so Dan left the unconscious Poison Ivy on the floor and shot through the roof, grumbling to himself. He flew clear of the building just in time to see Batman enter through a window. He paused, spectral tail flicking back and forth as he thought, before diving back in after the hero.

Danny had said to see how many things he could steal from that utility belt without being caught... And it wasn’t like there was anywhere the clown could go that Dan couldn’t follow.

He slipped out of the visible light spectrum and bit back his gleeful cackles as he liberated some of those delightful green rocks from the confines of the Bat’s pockets.

[nardo-headcanons]

my dear moots!

sorry for going mia on y'all, i am still alive and fine, college (and everything that comes attached to it) are just draining me a lot rn, but i haven't forgotten any of your requests.

love y'all <3

Here's my masterlist in case you're looking for it

[miseryoforpheus]

intro post <3

Hey there!

Im Jamie and my pronouns are They/She/he

Im a neurospicy minor (but I will swear and also am fine being moots with/talking to adults as long as no one is a creep to me it’s all good)

Uhhh welcome to my online diary :|

Happy to make friends if u want - feel free to DM me

online diary blog w lots of Neil Gaiman reblogs bc he’s my idol

Fun facts about me:

Umm ok (trying to think of fun facts now)

Im Italian but grew up in England, would love some more Italian moots <3

my favourite authors are Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett (but it’s been like that since before I read good omens lmao) also Rick Riordan and Alice Oseman

certified gravity falls child

if u couldn’t tell by the URL I’m obsessed with Greek and Roman mythology

nostalgic for a time I wasn’t even alive - late 80s and early 90s mainly but also like 70s

nostalgic for a time I WAS alive (barely but it still counts bc I do remember it) - the late 2000s

I did a quiz to see what Beatles band member I’d be and got Paul Mcartney

damn u rlly don’t realise how boring u r till u try and do an about me huh

Music I like:

Hozier, Olivia Rodrigo, Conan Gray, Harry Styles, YUNGBLUD, Beatles, Elton John, Queen, Renée Rapp, TV girl, bears in trees, Ricky Montgomery, NOAHFINNCE, MARINA, Fleetwood Mac

getting into:

Nirvana [used to love them a few years ago but then a mean girl made fun of me for it so I stopped listening to them but I’m starting again]

Dominic Fike Paramore

mother mother

MCR

the neighbourhood

The tags I will use:

Jamie answers asks - u guessed it this is for answering any asks

the most boring soap opera - my life stuff because my life is the most boring soap opera

MOTD - mood of the day which is just a lil thing I do

for the record:

I stand with Palestine 🇵🇸

please click here every day:

also free Ukraine 🇺🇦

aro and ace people are LGBTQ+ and this is an aro and ace and aroace safe blog

in general this is a COMPLETELY safe space

if u want anyone to talk to btw I’m always here to chat, can’t guarantee i’ll be able to help but I am always willing to listen literally any time we don’t even have to be moots or anything just DM me ok? Ily all take care of yourselves ok loves? <3

Also one last thing just for ppl that know me, I have no problem with u following this blog or anything but be warned that I’m not gonna filter my opinion at all on here bc I need a place to be myself and if u don’t want to see that i understand and idm just pls don’t take it as a personal attack or anything if u ever think something I post relates to you, I promise it’s not I just need to vent <3

My MOTD ratings:

0-2 > feeling really really really shitty

3-4 > shitty like I have too much sadness and anger and everything inside me and it feels horrible and yeah yk [reckless behaviour is strong here for me + pretty strong intrusive thoughts]

5 > normal. Numb. Yucky. Normal level of intrusive thoughts [for me at least, everyone is different]

6-7 > smol happy, probably was a bad day that got better

7-8 > :D

9-10 > fucking ecstatic

[nateezfics]

guys i promise i’m still alive! i really haven’t been active here for the better part of this month, so here’s a quick little update for those of you who might be curious as to where i’ve been!

the most recent thing is i’ve been sick for the last week. sick with a really bad flu; i’m still not fully recovered, i’ve really been in the trenches🤧.

work has been crazy, chaotic, hectic. just over all a mess. this has been the most stressed i’ve been in a while. when i get home afterwards all i wanna do is just go straight to bed.

though, i have managed to start something akin to a new “hobby” amidst all the craziness of this month! i’ve started playing genshin impact (thanks to my bestie @essenteez for getting me into it!), and when i tell you this game has sucked me in!! any free time i have i am dedicating to this; i mayyyy have an addiction lol🙂‍↕️

welp! these are pretty much the newest updates for me! really i’ve been so focused on other things and haven’t even thought about writing or updating here. hopefully soon i can get back into the groove of things!! i really miss being active on here, and i miss my moots too!🥹💕

[true-devotion]

Hello!!!

I am currently trying to fix my life, and since I do think this blog may be a distraction for me, I have decided to go on hiatus/consider erasing this blog!! It is still a decision to be made, but I probably won't be active for a long period of time/erase this blog in a while!!! My main has also been erased, and I made a new account!! I probably won't say its name since I want it to be personal and something for myself. With the recent dramas and complicated stuff going on both in my life and community, I do think this is for the best! I am genuienly sorry if I don't talk or have erased many people from my Discord friends, if I've erased you, there could be many reasons such as me simply not feeling a big connection with you or us not talking/having a friendship/relationship I think could be worth keeping. (I'm not saying I don't care about you, simply want to keep myself chill and with no distractions at the current time, having too much social relationships to keep can make me feel anxious and scared) + If I have blocked you it may have been on accident since I have been erasing and doing stuff on Discord OUT OF ANXIETY AND I JUST MAY HAVE BLOCKED YOU OUT OF STRESS TO KEEP OUR FRIENDSHIP ALIVE-

Another of the reasons I'm "leaving" it's because I feel overwhelmed by all this "social media persona" and it's a complicated thing for me to have in mind knowing life is being sh!t right now!!!

I am really sorry for doing this, updates on my decision/current state may be done here!

If any of my moots texts aren't being answered on Discord nor Tumblr, it is because I have some issues with my parents right now and stuff... Please have it in mind!!!! If I'm active in any way, it'll probably be in this account, so if any of you needs anything, please send asks/dm's here!!!

@dollrelicz, @seichuui, @mod-ais-icons, @mischiefesse

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Hi!! What are some of ur favourite lines from some of ur fave fics that u have read on here?? And what r some of ur favourite fics I am in dire need of new reading materials on tumblr and I trust ur taste so much 💚 I hope u have a great day and I hope this isn’t any pressure!

HI ANON !!!!!!!! my brain is . physically incapable of following my commands so i don’t know if i can recall any exact lines at the top of my head :’3 i know for a fact there r hundreds but . my brain Cannot compute . as i’m writing this i’m remembering one actually nevermind. ”and your body is his and his body is yours. he's seen it in the mirror a thousand times. the skin is the same, the hair, the scars. there are parts of his life he wishes he could give to you.” from teeth; gum; metal by @/mossmotif genuinely changed my fucking life it wrecked me entirely and i’m never not thinking about it. anyway.

AS FOR FICS THOUGH …. i got an ask a while ago that wanted me to spread some love by making a list of my favorite fics that my mutuals have written, and i’ve been working on that one for a while now!! :3 still haven’t posted because there are some moots whose writing i haven’t read yet and i’d hate to make anyone feel left out …. but i’m getting there!!! it’s . already very very long. in my defense my mutals are the second comings of shakespeare. if you’re looking for good writing genuinely just hunt down my moots. they’re insane in the head (affectionate)

but yeah !!!! since you’re on anon i can’t exactly let you know when i answer that ask (unless you’d like me to tag you, in which case you’re more than welcome to shoot me a dm!!), but i promise you i’ll get to it!!! in the meantime….. have an ao3 rec <33333 it’s one of my favorite suguru fics Ever . and characterizations of sugu :3 this is my gospel.

alive, still - heeful

[thotpuppy]

WIP Tag Game!

tagged by @dear-massacre ! AND @whimsicalmeerkat! WHIL i was writing my post lolol

This is sorta smth i track regularly? but i have it all sorted by word count akdgjkajdg it's part of my progress tracker server w some friends. Adding words is the easiest way to track 'working on a project' so that's what i do! I also have a (separate) doc in my drive folder that tracks just, general prompts, so when i have ideas i slap them in there.

Current (Teen Wolf) WIPs:

TriReign: Shepherd, Lamb, Wolf: small outline, chapters 1-4 complete, 5 wip - 16,575 - Sterek, Medieval Fantasy, Arranged Marriage, Omegaverse, Political Drama, Sex and Politics, Duty and Honor and Subterfuge, etc. my current current current WIP. Baseball AU: Collab? outline - 331. MOSTLY this is just. a Roster and some thoughts about a general plot concept. I want to illustrate this but i can't do a comic. It's also a Sterek concept. FratBoi Stiles x RA!Derek: 52 - this is just straight up a PWP with the prompt borrowed from a TWT moot that ive been meaning to work on for ages and just haven't yet. Higher Education 2: 2,821 Sciles, trans!Stiles, post-canon college AU. Also PWP, but also my gross unhygenic sloppy AU kinda. it's just. its grossnasty wet n sloppy porn. i wanted to finish this and then write a Third part for Sciles week this year and i didn't. whoops There's a Werewolf Tradition for That: 72 - Sterek didn't know they were dating AU. Alive!Hales but Werewolves are still a secret. Stiles and Derek are good friends and roommates, they're both idiots pining for each other, and out of the blue Derek's Mom sends them a formal invitation to celebrate their engagement. Stiles doesn't even know Derek's a werewolf. total ROMCOM, kinda inspired by My Big Fat Greek Wedding, but only in Vibes. Lone Wolf Wild West AU: Chapters 1, 2 posted, not outline - 3,670. Sterek, Lone Ranger!Derek, son of the sheriff Stiles. Mystery, adventure, romance. I miss cowboy...

Somewhere in here I will also put my Collabang fic and any other events i sign up for, because I'm gonna have to pause my major WIPs to work on them lol

1920's Mafia AU: Outline only - 1313 - Stiles is a city detective, the sheriff is the Police Commissioner, this takes place in Los Angeles. There are tunnels running all through the city, albeit underneath (real). There's been an uptick in gang activity lately. Stiles secretly 'runs' by which i mean, owns and protect, but isn't involved in Actually Running, an underground speakeasy in the heart of the city. He doesn't let any gangs runs their trouble on his turf. Until one day, a Hale is shot by an Argent right outside his doors. Sterek SuperBat ComicCon MeetCute: WIP One Shot - 1,049 Inspired by MultiE's art. nerd x nerd solidarity Sciles Ancient Greece AU: 192 - this is a friggin poem and is probably gonna stay a poem. New! Sex For Work: Parts 1, 2, 3, 4 - 23,228. Part 5? Sterek BDSM CEO x Personal Assistant AU. Originally intended to be kinky prompt fill series but Caught Plot. I meant to rewrite it last month to convert it into a standalone story, but uhhhh didn't. I DID do reformatting though. I just need to get writing on it again, but i tend to be kinda singleminded.

Other Fandom WIPs:

Big Blue Boyscout: 47 - Superman x Nightwing, xenophilia fic. "He's Big and Blue in more ways than one..." Bruce Wayne Visits Smallville: 685 - I got distracted while bingeing smallville for the first time and haven't gone back, but this was just supposed to be a one shot but my outline grew legs DP/YJ Crossover: 220 - this is more of a concept than a real specific fic, but i REALLY like comparing danny phantom to specifically the young justice animated series, and i wanted to try and come up with a cohesive clone comparison plot, rather than just making it a lil joke. Maybe it'll be Danny x Conner because himbo tee shirt conner is my baby boy baby boy Not So Blushing, Not So Virgin: 40 - SuperBat role reversal where everyone expects clark to be this sweet inexperienced things and then he absolutely blows bruce's back out.

Hiatus Projects:

Universal Law of Gravitation: Chapter 1 WIP, significant outline - 3,080 - Sterek Lifetime fic. I wrote out this huge long super comprehensive timeline and got super caught up in it. It's supposed to be about how, despite their best efforts, Stiles and Derek just can't stay apart, so there are a ton of messy breakups and fights in between. I just never put together an actual proper Plot, so when i started writing it, i got SUPER bored. It has a playlist! and i made a bunch of pseudo-science chapter titles hehe A Fever You Can't Sweat Out: Chapter 1 posted, Chapter 2 WIP, significant outline - 9,911 - Sterek, Marrish, Scallison, post-canon AU, surprise mpreg! Similarly to ULG, i wrote out a huge big timeline and outline and got super nitty gritty into the details, but literally Chapter One i went Off Track and it just killed my motivation. It's HUGELY ensemble, and i picked out jobs and hobbies for like 12 people to all live in a big ol estate together. It also suffered from "world building but no plot", but i DID try to make a plot, it just. wasn't good haha. The entire concept is, Lydia gets pregnant which makes Allison baby crazy so she gets pregnant and Stiles wants a baby so, so bad, but he's dating dating/married to Derek and therefore would have to adopt or something, but he wants it so bad he magics himself up a contraception.

Prompts!

Derek is moody, Stiles teases him about the fact he like, never smiles. Kisses him on a whim to get a rise out of him. And then proceeds to have a existential crisis after because "oh shit did he just kiss DEREK".

Werewolf!Stiles’ Pavlovian Pleasure Response to Scott’s Click (iykwim)

Stiles x Jeep crack smut oneshot

Post Nogi stiles is having trouble feeling like himself again. he feels a sharp disconnect with his Self that he didn't used to have, like he's lost touch with his humanity. He needs someone to remind him how it feels to be human.

unspecified/platonic - In this kind of weather, it makes more sense to stay inside. Or rather, stay inside somewhere else. Stiles sets up shop in a bookstore's cafe to while away the time warm espresso, a good book, and his own company. Until Someone/Something Else comes knocking.

Supernatural Boarding school (circa 2005-2009 role-play forum vibes)

Bastard Prince Jackson and Freedom Fighter Stiles (see doc)

Stiles’ mythology professor bites off more than either can chew - The Great Beacon Hills Custody Battle

“Teenage Dirtbag” Loser!Stiles Sterek fic

all of my prompts literally only exist in a single document where i put Ideas i like adkgjakjg everything in wips has a dedicated doc, but most of them dont have much written yet.

There's also 1 absent prompt here that im now saving for the collabang so ive omitted it from my counts because its technically a wordcount of 0 until i get to start working w my artist (:

no pressure tags! @renmackree @lavender-lotion @like-lazarus @geekmom13 @endwersed

[rainbowchewynuggets]

TMA Encore #12

Jon stares down into the gaping corpse of the prison. A stale air current breathes coldly on his neck.

Jon: If this tape has reached any of the members of my team, I would hope that they’d understand that I’m choosing to remove myself from the board to prevent something terrible. And that I’m sorry for doing it. And for everything, really. I… I should have told you all what was happening from the beginning. At the time, I told myself that it was for the better. But I’m realizing that I have a poor metric for those sorts of choices. I knew something was wrong early on and kept it to myself anyway. It was just easier to pretend that I could handle it myself. Clearly not.

He tries to summon some levity, but his throat is too tight.

Jon: You deserved better. You deserved to know.

He squeezes the little silver lighter in his other hand.

Jon: If you haven’t found this tape, it might be because we’re all still down here together. I shouldn’t do it, after all we’ve done to try to make it through this. I don’t want to. I’d just be making the same mistake all over again. But here I am.

He looks at the lace of fuse cord sticking out of each stick of dynamite, maybe six inches from the lighter’s flame.

Jon: It shouldn’t feel this easy. I should be in a much worse place mentally to even consider either option. It just… feels logical. As much as I’d like to blame an external force, I think that would be too easy. The point might be entirely moot, since I can’t seem to light this fuse any more than I can throw myself off. I can’t get myself to back away, either. Maybe I’m just waiting for a cue. A scare or something to let me know when it’s time to get going. Always seems to do the trick.

He can’t think of any more quips to distract himself. He can’t think of anything to say at all. He stops the recording and sets the player down on the ground beside him. The lighter thumps nervously against his leg as he scans the black void at the base of the Panopticon.

~

Not-Jon: Hello, Jonah.

Jonah meets him with his most unsurprised look.

Jonah: Nice to finally meet the creature that’s been stalking me.

Not-Jon allows himself no reaction beyond a difficult swallow.

NJ: Old habit.

Jonah looks him up and down. Not-Jon’s eyes are locked on him.

Jonah: Are you quite alright? You look uncomfortable.

Not-Jon strains to stand up straighter against the wall. Jonah waits for him to move, but he remains struggling to stay propped up where he is.

NJ: I suppose I should have thought to lock up the archives.

Jonah: Just figured I’d give you a hand. An ambitious design requires careful execution.

He steps back and rests against the opposite wall, facing the strange creature.

Jonah: Though, I must admit that I’m impressed. I never imagined you could become such a willing propagator for your patrons. Especially after what I heard on those tapes.

NJ: “Willing” with no other choice.

His voice is hard and sharp.

NJ: This way, they’re all likely to make it out alive. I at least haven’t stooped to sacrificing bystanders and victims.

Jonah: A credible threat reaps the same benefits, whether it’s followed through or not. You know that. There isn’t really room for ethics in our line of work.

Not-Jon is miserably silent.

Jonah: And I’m afraid you may have pushed some of your pieces a little too far.

Jonah takes out the three fragments of the ring. Not-Jon gives them a long look before tearing his eyes away back to Jonah.

NJ: Oh. Well. That would explain why this is so much harder than I thought it would be.

His sardonic tone can’t disguise the shaking in his voice. He gasps, winded from talking.

Jonah closes his fingers and moves to the back of the tower.

Not-Jon attempts to follow. He can barely move his feet and has to slide along the wall by one shoulder. Jonah reaches behind the cavernous remains of the stairs and pulls out a shotgun. He takes a shell from his pocket and loads it, then points the nose of the barrel at Not-Jon at point blank range. Fear is plain on his target’s face. He lets the moment sit, drinking it in.

The gun fires. The slug shatters bone and burrows into Not-Jon’s chest. Gunpowder burns the exposed flesh. He doubles over like a crumpled piece of paper. One hand holds the wound, the other is pressed against the floor with his legs bunched under him. He grits his teeth as he clings to his last ounce of strength, which threatens to leave him with each passing moment.

Jonah takes a step closer and kneels to meet the creature’s burning hateful eyes.

Jonah: It must be terrible. After all that careful planning and work, some underestimated detail arrives at the last minute and puts you back in your place.

Not-Jon wheezes painfully.

Jonah notices a running feeling in his hands. The broken ring has turned to dust, its illusory purpose served. Jonah processes this a second too late.

Not-Jon’s defeated act vanishes. He lunges and clasps his hands around Jonah’s throat. They struggle and hit the floor. Jonah is pinned as Not-Jon chokes him, vaporized blood rising from his hands.

NJ: It really is terrible, isn’t it?

~

Not-Martin’s concentration is broken. His sight turns probingly in the direction of the central watchtower.

NM: Oh, god.

~

Using Jonah’s sphere of influence as a gateway, the Entities push outward, overextending themselves. Not-Jon’s awareness expands beyond the Institute. Far, far beyond. He can see and feel the presence of the competing Entities’ places and objects of power. Their prowling avatars. Their euphoria. Their malice. The fear, misery, and ruin they create. Despite all that he’s done to dilute it, it saturates the earth. It seeps through endless fissures made between worlds, waiting only for enough points of cohesion to bring the Entities through.

The interference is agony. His head is filled with splintering wood.

He can’t stop here. He has to get rid of all of it. No trace can be left behind.

It can’t wait any longer. It’s the only way.

The only way.

~

Tim and Sasha are lost in the dark. They were at opposite ends of a complicated room when the flashlight ate through its last battery. They can’t find each other. A rushing sound approaches them with a flash of blinding light.

Not-Martin grabs hold of his younger double just before the flash floods their tiny cell.

————

Next comes the scary part.

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