#dying to know what their ship name should be

[plinchy]

At least Jack of All Trades gives half your proficiency bonus to all abilities you're not proficient in.

[qeyond]

Because I respect y'all to control my little gay life:

do I fulfill my beyond birthday kinship and re-dye my whole hair black like it's 2010 or do I split dye it (again)? (Split dye w/ my natural orange + black)

I've done both and love both but I need to be influenced by my peers

Propaganda for both:

Full black - Emo and B-core

pro: I'd be living my true trans masc queer ass life and hard kinning that murderer guy from that book where he kills ppl cuz he has problems. (Except I won't kill ppl cuz that's mean :( , but truthfully I would be very emo)

con: the orange roots growing in are so awful imo I hate it personally :( I'm not a hat guy.

Split dye - Root grow-in conscious, conservative but still gay option.

Pro: Shows off that I'm queer and alt and it's not as obnoxious when my orange roots grow in cuz of how I wear my hair (emo swishy to the right). Touch up dying not needed frankly.

Con: it's not as emo or b-kinny.

[0bticeo]

lurk | feyd rautha

part four of five. (part 1.) (part 2.) (part 3.)

summary:

“i need you,” he rasps, etching a molten kiss on the dip of your collarbone. “need to get rid of his taste.”

his hand crawls up your thighs, the folds of your velvet dress gliding against your skin. you can still hear the soldiers outside, feel the low thrum of their clamour in your very bones. should you focus, you’ll perceive the baron’s suspensors sucking away at gravity, the servants’ roaming about, feet like neelde-ants on cold marble.

anyone could catch you.

“what are you waiting for, my lord na-baron?”

wc: 1.6k

tw: political machinations, reader being inches away from killing everyone in the damn place including feyd, kissing, biting, mentions of breeding, possessive & needy feyd, sub!feyd, oral (fem receiving), fingering, hallway sex.

you’re getting tired of dreams. 

there’s terrible, terrible purpose dripping from their edges. you see it all - snapshots of horror, fractals reflecting endless bodies dropping to the ground. sixty one billion people, dead. ten thousand worlds burning, the universe begging for respite under your brother’s crushing fist.

paul. little mouse, whom you’ve shielded all your life, whom you’ve sparred with, crysknife pressed against his throat, his shield a feeble protection against your blade. something shatters. blades. so many of them. your blade. jamis’ blade. feyd-rautha’s blade. 

your dream has you standing in what you know to be the emperor’s ship, shrouded in bene gesserit veils. two silhouettes stand against the bleeding sun of arrakis. 

the realisation embeds itself in your mind, marble-carved. fate is looking down upon you and tells you: one of them dies in the end.

when you wake up, there’s a scream dying on your tongue.

you don’t know where you are. you don’t know where you are, why your side is on fire, why you taste blood in your mouth.

slowly, you rise, heart beating furiously, breath laboured. i must not fear. your fingers dig your sheets. the infirmary. fear is the mind killer. you close your eyes, will yourself to breathe. fear is the little-death that brings total -

a hand settles over yours, bone pale fingers weaving with yours. warmth settles on your shoulder. you relax, ever so slightly, leaning into the touch, burying yourself in the crook of feyd-rautha’s neck. he’s all sharp edges, honed to deadly perfection. in the quiet midnight of geidi prime, he softens for you.

“what troubles you?”

you wonder if you should tell him. of the golden path, paved with blood, so much blood it clings to the soles of your feet, you see it rise, rise, eager to seize you-

a low mumble of your name.

“dreams are messages from the deep,” you whisper in the crook of his neck. 

his hold tightens over you, brings you closer to the warmth of him, thumb running over the smooth skin of your belly, over your unborn child growing there. from your position, you can feel it, the way his vocal cords vibrate. he’s purring, soothing you bit by bit.

you tilt your head, hand coming to cradle his face, knuckles brushing against his cheek.

“i should be plotting your death.”

a low chuckle, a flash of almost eagerness in his eyes.

“i don’t doubt you will.”

his hand wraps around your neck, resting on the soft skin of your throat, bringing you closer to him, shifting your bodies until you’re straddling him, arms wrapping around his neck. you could strangle him. you could use the voice. ask him to take the knife you know rests on the bedside and slit his own throat like the harkonnen beast he is. use it yourself.

but you’ve sealed your fate the moment you stepped on arrakis. so instead, you let the darkness swallow your confession.

“i don’t want you to die.”

“i won't,” he mumbles against your lips, words like an oath as he kisses you.

they say the beat of a butterfly wing can cause a tempest on the other side of the globe. you wonder what tempest will be borne out of the fury beating in your chest. here goes: morning comes. the spice rules it all, even the baron’s affairs, so he gathers his troops to make a planetary governor out of feyd-rautha. 

the glorious sun of geidi prime shines its lifeless light upon you all. 

the finest harkonnen soldiers, ruthless hounds barking their sovereign’s name in fervent adoration, thousands upon thousands of ants stretching as far as you can see. they corrupt it all the harkonnen, eating away at the horizon. waiting. 

you’re waiting, too, hands folded before you, lone silhouette clad in dark robes, veils like a mask before your face. bene gesserit, the court calls you. 

not quite.

by bearing feyd-rautha a child, you’ve gained a modicum of respite. the bene gesserit will spare you, the mother of their precious kwisatz haderach. they will keep your survival a secret and bury it behind inscrutable eyes.

plans within plans within plans. you’re a pawn in the baron’s meaty hands, he’s a pawn in yours, and the bene gesserit have been pulling the strings for ninety generations. 

your gaze flits to the scene before you. feyd-rautha harkonnen, clad in dark leathers, silver embroidery like pauldrons over his shoulders. the mass of his uncle hovers above him, a hovering beast eager for power. two meaty hands encompass his face - absolute disgust coils in your chest as you watch vladimir harkonnen kiss his nephew. he kisses back. a show of dominance.

the soldiers howl his name, earth trembling under the clamour. they salute, arms crossed over their heads, a living, breathing organism, synchronicity at its peak. 

arrakis has a new ruler. 

a hand clasps over your wrist, drags you away from the adoring masses, in the sweet darkness of the palace’s hallways. you’re pinned against the wall, and feyd-rautha looms before you, terrible hunger burning in his eyes. slowly, he lifts your veils, high enough to bare your mouth to him. 

“my lord-”

you’re cut off by his lips on yours, eager, desperate, savouring you like fine arrakean spice-wine. 

“i need you,” he rasps, etching a molten kiss on the dip of your collarbone. “need to get rid of his taste.”

his hand crawls up your thighs, the folds of your velvet dress gliding against your skin. you can still hear the soldiers outside, feel the low thrum of their clamour in your very bones. should you focus, you’ll perceive the baron’s suspensors sucking away at gravity, the servants’ roaming about, feet like neelde-ants on cold marble.

anyone could catch you.

“what are you waiting for, my lord na-baron?”

he nips at your ear, grin sharper than his blade as he sinks to his knees. slowly, intimately, a shadow curling at his mistress’ feet. he unravels you, nails raking up your thighs, liquid desire burning in their path. 

“eyes on me.”

your eyes snap open. oh, he’ll be the death of you, with the way his eyes freeze you in place, willing, begging for his touch. you shiver, a low, needy sound escaping you. 

he grins, a flash of black teeth against the liquid darkness of your robes. shadows will swallow you whole - he will swallow you whole. already is, with the way he trails kisses up your thighs, teeth sinking in the meat of it until blood drips on your skin. 

he’s lapping at it, hands wrapping around your leg, spreading you apart inch by precious inch until he fits the broad expanse of his shoulders in the space he’s carved for himself. he raises his head, leans his cheek against your thigh, nuzzling in its softness. there’s blood coating his lips, sweet like forbidden fruit, and an unquenchable fire in his eyes.

“exquisite,” he purrs, nail digging in the blossoming mark he’s left, until your hips seek his touch.

he puts his mouth to you. you bite your lip, hard, as you feel him tease you, tongue lapping at you like sweet pomegranate, skilled fingers coaxing pleas for more. the cold of his silver ring has you keening - you're melting against him.

it’s obscene, how the only sounds you can hear are the pleased moans of your lover, the squelching of your juices dripping down his face, his wrist. it’s too much, too fast - your nails dig into his nape, bringing him closer. fucker’s purring, hands digging in your hips. he’s making a feast out of you, and you’ve never seen prettier sight. 

feyd-rautha, kneeling at your feet, a pretty, pretty blush dusting his cheeks, his soft mouth on your cunt, ruining you as he denies himself sweet release.

“feyd-”

a jolt - he’s just nipped your clit, and you’re falling apart with his name on your tongue, burning, melting in the pits of desire. you grow boneless, faltering on unsteady legs. he pulls you to him before you can fall, kissing you, moulding his devouring mouth to yours. 

distantly, you register that he’s breathless, that he’s pressing you against him, that you can feel the dampness at the front of his pants.

his voice is a low, needy rasp.

“you taste divine, my dear.”

there’s a commotion. someone, somewhere, is calling. a servant. a feast is prepared. blasphemy - the baron is a beast, and he will not have his nephew leave without obscene amounts of food. good. it leaves room for you to plan - you’re running out of precious, precious time. there are too many variables for you to act alone, yet you are.

you’re sitting at feyd-rautha’s side at a banquet table. on you watch, a mockery of a bene gesserit, nails digging in your palm. there’s a knife before you, of course. the baron’s sitting at the head of the table, stuffing himself until he’s about to burst. 

repulsive.

you could do it now. put an end to the harkonnen, avenge your family. plunge that knife in the baron’s throat and watch him die like an animal. 

but revenge is best served cold. you remember princess irulan being seated in front of you. you remember the emperor at the head of the table. you remember his knife slicing through unknown poultry. a falcon. he’s doomed your family to death. 

the emperor is old. paranoid. anybody would’ve seen that the atreides were far too loyal to even consider rebelling against him, rising influence or not. someone convinced him otherwise. the truthsayer, reverend mother gaius helen moriam. 

you take a bite of your own meal and find it tasting like ash. the only dish you yearn for is revenge.

you want the baron dead. you want the emperor stripped of his power. you want to watch the split second of horrified realisation on the reverend mother's face. 

you want them to burn, and burn they will.

taglist: @kpopnstarwars @moonsoulk @alexandrainlove @saturnhas82moons @coureurs-de-bois9 @kamcrazy123 @beebeechaos @avidreader73 @yzuposts @jaiuneamesolitaiire

[wixhing0nastar]

I just fell head first into another round of FE:3H obsession only to learn there’s a new game that I won’t be able to afford until the end of the month. 😭

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 12

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)  Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 12:

Danny asked himself why he even bothered with this game of cat and mouse with the bats. They already knew he could go intangible, so what was the point?

It was another day, another chase; another case of Red Helmet not showing up. This was the third time, not counting when he’d sneaked back invisibly and intangibly in the morning for another roll of heavy duty cable after that first night Red Helmet hadn’t shown.

Was he alright? Was he hurt? Had he just given up?

His core cried out in sorrow lamenting the connection he couldn’t make. It didn’t matter that he never had a connection to begin with, now he felt not only lost, but abandoned. 

It was stupid. 

He didn’t want to do this anymore. Yet here he was, playing chase. He’d already lost two vigilantes tonight, but they kept popping up like wack-a-moles. His current tail was Sunshine, who was a rare participant, he’d only showed up recently but unlike the others he had powers, which made losing him in the traditional sense hard.

He should just leave, but what if Red Helmet showed?

Also it was habit. Habit was a comfort to his hurting core. Ghosts were creatures of habit and mischief. The chase even while it exhausted him was the only bit of play he had. It used to be, early in his stay in Gotham, that he actually had fun. He wasn’t sure at what point it became more habit than fun. It had probably been a gradual sneaking thing.

When Danny first arrived in this world through a training accident and a random portal, he hadn’t been worried. Sooner or later he would find a new natural portal to return to the Ghost Zone and from there he could find home. Natural portals happened all the time, they were like vents, opening and closing to relieve pressure and keep the balance between worlds. Danny had a knack for finding them. He didn’t know whether it was due to dying in a portal or because of his adventures with the Infi-map, but it was a skill he’d developed. So while a couple of years prior he would have been worried about going through a portal, not so much anymore.

He didn’t recognize the city he landed in, it was a regular metropolis with towering skyscrapers, chrome and glass. One building had a giant globe on top with a sign pronouncing it the Daily Planet. Flying about invisibly and people watching, he’d first come to the conclusion he had to be in the future. The technology was just way too advanced when it came to what every day people had in their pockets.

His sightseeing had taken him to a place called Star Labs - how could Danny not check it out with a name like that? And he was not disappointed. They seemed to be doing a little bit of everything; medical research, weapons, strange things he didn’t even know what was (and Danny knew strange things), but best of all spacecraft. 

He’d been looking at a nanotech self-repairing coating for a future spacecraft when it happened; Alarms blared. The lights changed to red. Alert, Danny had remained still and invisible. He wasn’t necessarily the cause of the alarm, and making a sound now would only make him the cause of alarm for the suddenly nervous scientists in the room.

They all waited to see what would happen and eventually the doors opened admitting white armored security guards - the color immediately sent his hackles rising, the lights flickered momentarily but thankfully nobody noticed. All were focused on the security guards scanning the room with their anonymous visors.

Someone pointed towards the corner and guns were raised. The poor scientist standing there raised his hands frantically babbling, begging that he hadn’t done anything, please don’t shoot- The stream of words became just that to Danny, like water rushing in his ears. 

They weren’t pointing at the scientist; they were pointing at Danny. 

He moved, only just in time, flying up through the ceiling. The guns whirred behind him, with a high pitched charging sound and not like normal gunshots at all, no too much like-

Heat erupted in his side and he screamed. It took all his willpower to keep his invisibility, to keep his form. His head snapped around frantically, even in a new room he saw only armored white closing in. Place was crawling with them. A wail was building in his throat. No! He was in a city, he couldn’t! Panic fueled him as he kicked off the floor in a burst of speed, up up up. Floor after floor until the evening sky opened up above him in burning reds and oranges. 

He hadn’t stopped, he’d sped away from the city. 

At present Danny pressed himself against a wall, watching Sunshine reconvene with Purple from his hiding place above them. Seeing the two vigilantes were busy he sneaked carefully around the  corner of the building to put the building between them. He kept in the shadow of a pipe as he started jogging. 

Thinking about Star Labs he couldn’t help but touch a hand to where the energy blast had hit him - he’d scarred. It hadn’t been ectoplasm based, Danny would have known, but if they could hurt him, they could find a way to capture him, to keep him captured. 

That was why Danny had tried to limit the usage of his powers in Gotham. If he could pass for just a regular thief, maybe someone with cloaking tech,  If they guessed what he was they would be one step closer to- No! He couldn’t think about that, he needed to keep his head in the game. 

The midget sprung down in front of him, and Danny changed directions. How many of them were out here today? And with how many what were the odds Helmet wasn’t out here somewhere? Danny was tiring. But maybe there was hope? 

His thoughts drifted again as he ran.

When Danny had taken a moment to catch his breath after his escape from Star Labs, he’d started to look for a portal. He’d had enough of this future, but he hadn’t found a single one. He’d flown around trying to sense one until he’d been forced to set down in a forested area, transforming from the exhaustion. 

He hadn’t understood then why he was so tired.

Strangely breathless he’d pulled out his phone and called Tucker. If he could trust one person to always be near his technology it was Tucker - The number couldn’t be reached. Next he’d tried Sam, then Jazz, then Mom and Dad, none of the numbers could be reached. 

Terrified of what could have happened to them, Danny had started walking. He needed somewhere he could access technology. He’d discovered the burn on his side had carried over to his human form, because his shirt stuck to the blistering mess. He’d been in too much shock to notice the pain. But as he walked it became more and more apparent. He didn’t have anything in his backpack to dress the wound. 

As evening encroached, Danny had come upon a road. He picked right for his direction, walking in the leafy underbrush on the side of the road. The road was long and straight and relatively well travelled even as evening moved on into twilight, which was already pretty dark due to the shadows of trees. The now fewer cars had blinding headlights and Danny was careful to look away from them - not just for his poor eyes’ sake, but he really didn’t need to cause an accident, he never knew when his eyes would decide to reflect light like some sort of cryptid roadside ghoul. 

Danny was exhausted - too exhausted, but he tried to ignore the tumble of worried thoughts that wanted to be released from where he’d chained them up. He was considering just finding a soft spot to lie down for a nap, but some niggle of fear he couldn’t explain told him he might just be more exhausted if he stopped. No, walking on was safer. He needed to get to a place where there were people, and he didn’t risk getting mauled by wildlife because he was tired.

A truck stopped just ahead of him after a crescent moon had risen in the sky. Danny felt more full dead than half dead as he walked up to the truck. The window was rolled down.

“My wife’ll kill me for picking up hitchhikers so near Gotham if you’re a serial killler,” a rough female voice spoke from the cabin. 

Danny blinked. What? He managed to say, “uh?”

The driver leaned over far enough that she could open the door and actually see him. She had short cropped curly hair, a nose that looked like it had been broken before and judging dark eyes that swept up and down Danny’s arguably pitiful state of being. 

“Well, are you?” She enunciated.

“What?” “A serial killer?” Danny held his arms out helplessly. “I’m not, but if I was, that would also be my response, ma’am.”

She huffed a short bark of laughter. “So you got a bit o’ sass. Jump in then. Heading to Gotham?”

“Sure.” Danny replied, and climbed up. He’d never heard about a town by that name, but it was the second time the lady had mentioned it and who really knew where he was except somewhere in the US. He buckled in under watchful eyes, and in moments they were off.

“So you from somewhere in the Midwest?”

“Illinois, ma’am.” It was a safe enough topic, and Danny was so relieved to sink into soft seats and relax. His backpack was safely between his knees, even if it didn’t hold much of value and the cabin warm but not too warm.

“What brings you all the way out to Jersey?”

“Would you believe me-“ Danny covered his mouth as he was a assaulted by a yawn. “Sorry. If I said I don’t know?”

She glanced away from the road towards Danny momentarily. “Wouldn’t be the strangest thing.”

She reached into a cooler box and pulled out a sweating can that she handed to him. “Here, you’re pale as a ghost.” He accepted the can with shaking hands. Only his heart had jumped at the comparison, not his whole body, he reassured himself. He frowned thoughtfully as he examined the can. Zesti Cola the cursive lettering declared.

“Is this a local brand?” Danny asked thoughtlessly as he opened it up.

He realized his mistake as soon as it was out of his mouth at the incredulous look he got. “It’s only the biggest brand worldwide.”

Danny coughed. “Guess I must have grown up more sheltered than I thought.” 

He’d take the pitying look over any suspicion. He took a sip and it tasted a bit sweeter than the cola he was used to. His body welcomed the sugar and the liquids. He was usually more resilient than this. 

After finishing the pop, and putting the can in the trash bag as directed it wasn’t long until he fell asleep. 

He woke a bit disoriented when they stopped at a gas station an unknown amount of time later. And as memories flooded in he immediately knew what had been wrong with him. There had been absolutely no ambient ectoplasm in the air. He’d burned up his own rapidly using his powers for hours and healing a wound to boot. The difference was blatantly obvious now that he was in an area with ectoplasm in the air. He didn’t feel near as tired, his muscles and the wound ached less.

He stepped out of the truck along with the driver, and pulled his backpack back on. He looked up to the dark cityscape towering above them - so Gotham was definitely not a town. 

“Hey, kid.”

Danny resisted the instinctual urge to protest that he was nineteen, so not a kid, but that was personal information he didn’t want to give. 

“Yeah?” She walked around the truck to face him. “Gotham is a very good city to disappear in, but it’s also a good city to disappear in, you feel me? So take care?”

Danny swallowed at the ominous warning, but he was confident he could protect himself. He nodded. “Thanks for the ride, ma’am.”

Danny snapped out of the memory as a staff came down for his head. Jumping back he saw the midget had been joined by criss-cross bandolier guy.

He changed direction again and mused, that at this rate he’d go through all the vigilantes of Gotham tonight; but there was only one he wanted to see. He wasn’t showing and that was good, he reminded himself.

Zesti Cola and Gotham had been the clues Danny needed to know he was not in the future but in an entirely different reality. The following days he’d explored the limits of Gotham’s ambient ectoplasm. He’d quickly realized that to leave Gotham would be extremely dangerous to him. He might survive on human food, but any use of his powers would leave him weak and vulnerable, and as someone who didn’t even have an identity in this world - nobody would notice if he did disappear. 

Clockwork didn’t answer him. He couldn’t rely on anyone finding him here, they could become just as stuck as him. The only real solution was to build a portal. 

Danny was too late to divert from his path when he realized he was running towards a dead end, brick walls on two sides and concrete on the last, going up several stories. It was just as good a sign as any that it was time to end the chase. His stupid core could mourn Red Helmet’s absence just as easily from his hide-out as it could from here. 

He was prepared to turn intangible and go through the wall straight ahead. 

It was a relief the chase would be over. Weariness dragged at him more so now that he knew it would soon be over. Just three more long strides and the next would take him through the wall.

One. Two-

Electricity flared bright blue and flickering, dancing dangerously across the wall. Danny froze in place, in a way only possible due to his powers, as he instantly cancelled his momentum. Momentum that would have otherwise- No, he couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus, no panic, he could panic later, when he was free. He spun around. Electricity sparked all around him turning into a blur of dancing lightning. He dug his nails in to the palms of his hands. The path he’d come from was blocked by the bats. Blue Bird with his terrifying sticks, had joined the other two. 

The world wavered around him. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was so loud in his ears. He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood in his mouth. It was not over yet. 

He sunk into the ground, but pain, terrible and familiar lanced up through his legs and he jumped up with a yelp. He stared down at the asphalt beneath his feet in terrified realization; there were live power lines running through the ground.

Danny gritted his teeth and faced his pursuers grimly.

Bandoliers gave Danny a triumphant smile. “Gotcha.”

-

There you have it, Tim's plan to capture Danny, helped along by Danny being distracted. Next time we will see if it works ;)

I don't know that I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but I hope you enjoyed it anyways. Now that it's written and out at least I can hope to get something I'm more satisfied with for the ao3 version.

You can subscribe to the story by subscribing to the masterlist

Update: next

[cbartonscoffee]

Things I noticed or simply liked while watching "The Star Beast" again:

Donna was inventing names for the mother of the random transphobic kid in her school days. "'Cause I remember she had lots of names at school. And I should know. I invented 'em."

This bit: "It is not my fault I lost my job" Sylvia looks at her. "Alright, it is my fault. But still." Coffee cup anyone?

Wilf having stopped talking about anything alien related in case it triggered Donna's memories.

"Who are you? What's your name?" "I'm just passing by."

"Gave away that lottery money." "Why?" "Because. (...) Just felt like the kind of thing he would do."

The Meep talking smugly in his throne. The Doctor: "I name this ship the Delusions of Grandeur."

The Doctor turning his head towards Donna and starting to think aloud and explain what's happening like old times.

Sylvia and Rose are holding each other in the elevator. And holding hands while they walk to the TARDIS at the end.

It's been said but, Donna calling The Doctor by his name unconsciously.

The Doctor cracking his fingers before starting to run around pressing buttons. And later on Donna doing the same before helping him.

The Doctor goes towards the glass raising his hands when the regeneration energy starts as if they wants to hold Donna while this is happening.

The Doctor knowing Donna's primary concern as she was dying was Rose and reassuring her that she was safe.

Sylvia's highest compliment is saying that Wilf would be proud.

Shaun and Rose look like they want to go into the TARDIS to help Donna. Meanwhile Sylvia is just tired and done. "I said so!"

[evilminji]

Was Krypto Jor-El's dog? Or did their family have another pet?

Because think about it. Thanks to Cujo, we KNOW animals with unfinished business or strong attachments stay behind. We ALSO know from nigh COUNTLESS videos on the internet that pets get REALLY attached to pregnant moms and by extention, the new pack members.

Krpton was an Alien planet. Just because SOME of the animals there looked similar to earth animals, doesn't mean ALL of them do. Nor does it mean they ONLY domesticated dog like creatures or cat like creatures. They could have anything from vaguely bear-like to fox-ish to small moose but with more teeth.

It was a completely different ecology.

And Jor-El? Him and his wife had a CHOICE to make. They had A pod. Singular. Tiny. Not a ship, not an escape pod, not even a refurbished shipping container. Just a pod with life support and all the information about Krypton they could fit. A guidance system that, gods willing, would see their son to a safe and sympathetic planet to be raised by kind people.

THEY couldn't even fit.

How in the gods name would a large pet? Even a mid sized pet. Let us assume, for this prompt, that being scientists of high position? Pays or allocates pretty well. They have the room. The resources. When they got married, Jor-El's wife REALLY wanted a cub or pup or what have you, of some large-ish animal breed.

The equivalent of an earth mastiff dog. Just an Absolute UNIT. Used to be gaurds and working beasts, now more athletic pets then anything. Known to be great protecters of Their People.

And well... Jor-El WAS already starting to notice some things that were making him Less Than Popular... probably nothing (he had naively hoped, at the time.) But better to have a Just In Case. Sure, honey. Let's get one!

And they LOVED Snookums.

Snookums ADORED them AND the baby! Kal-El basically NEVER left Snookums sight. He slept beneath Kal's crib. Followed them everywhere they went, when they were holding Kal. Planted himself like Kal's Sworn Protector as the baby drooled all over his fur. It was the cutest thing EVER.

But then?

No. Dear Gods No. Please... Please let him be wrong!

He's not. He never is. He is too careful with his calculations. To the point of near paranoia. Maybe they can stop it. If they DO something. Act IMMEDIATELY...

But...

Well, we all now how that story ends. Two people, standing on a launch pad, tears streaming down their smiling faces, trying to memorize the last moment they'll ever see their son. Praying this will be ENOUGH.

That they aren't trading one terrible death for another.

Watching their son disappear into the sky. Flying home as the ground groan as shakes, trees toppling and people screaming. Panicking. Dying pointless deaths that could have been stopped.

Walking into the home that should have been where they spent their whole live. Where, in a way, they WILL.

Knowing they won't grow old.

Sitting on the floor with their confused, frantic, pet as fire starts to light up the horizon. As the ground shakes violently on last, terrible time. Knowing the lethal heat will hit them before their ears ever register the sound.

It's Over.

But! Where is Snookum's Baby Kal!?

They are scared, confused, and everything is LOUD AND RUMBLY. Very Bad. Don't like that. Their ADULTS come back home. BUT NOT THEIR BABY. Where is Baby Kal?! Snookums is a GOOD Boy and a GREAT Protector. It is in his blood.

Something BAD is happening.

Has? Happened?

Everything is GREEN.

But that does not MATTER. Snookums can not REST. Can not stay here! They must Sniff and search and hunt! Look for Kal! Who is SMALL and needs to be protected! What if he is HURT? How will he SLEEP!? With no Snookums to cuddle for nap time!?

But the universe is large. And there is no smell in space. (Well, there ARE. But they are Stinky Gasses and those do not help Snookums.) So it takes lots and lots of time. Until! He meets a glowing blue dog!

A hopeful corgi? What is a corgi? Irrelevant! The hopeful one knows of Snookums' Kal! Oh, thank you small friend! You indeed DO give hope! We shall go at once and Kal shall be safe and with family once more!

Meanwhile? Danny? Wakes up to a sticky note on his forehead from Clockwork. "Bring Cujo with you to meet the Justic League"? What? WHY? He loves the pup, but Cujo has never behaved himself in a formal setting ONCE in his doggy LIFE. Danny is trying to make a good first impression!

But... Clockwork doesn't Post-It lightly...

Guess he's breaking out the doggy bow ties. Great. Wonder what THIS is about...

Four and a half hours later? Watching Cujo playfully wrestle with the ghost of what HAS to be a Kryptonian... gonna saaaaay.... Bear-fox? Which nearly TACKLED Superman, freaked the ENTIRE Justice League out, and nearly got him STABBED by Etrigon. Yeah. That was a good call.

Congratulations on your new ghost pet, Superman. No, he's not leaving. It just kinda happens sometimes. It's how Danny got Cujo. Wanna do pet playdates?

@hdgnj @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles @nerdpoe

[catgirlforeskin]

Since Wizards of the Coast is torpedoing all the good-will they have with DnD to wring more money out of it, I want to make a guide for people who recognize they should jump ship, but don’t know alternatives.

If you’re deeply invested in DnD and want something as similar as possible, Pathfinder 2 is what you want. It’s the next biggest game in the tabletop scene (in the US), you can find physical copies in stores easily, and Paizo allows free resources online to exist without constant threat of being taken down like WotC does. It will remain free to play on any VTT while DnD will require you to subscribe to their proprietary one.

Most importantly, though, it improves on almost every aspect of DnD. Combat and class balance is extremely well thought out and makes all combats engaging and difficult in a fun way, requiring teamwork and clever thinking. Roleplay is integrated into character creation and play better, and you no longer have to choose between being good in combat or exploration or roleplay, you get to play and feel useful during all aspects of the game. It’s hard to emphasize how much better it is without just playing, if you still want something like DnD, play Pathfinder 2.

If you like high fantasy adventuring but are willing to get more out there, Fellowship and Dungeon World are good options. Fellowship is a more free-form adventure game focused on creating a cinematic experience over getting bogged-down in rules-heavy play. If you want to play a Lord of the Rings style campaign and have it feel like the movies, Fellowship is the way to go.

Dungeon World is called “Powered by the Apocalypse” which means it was inspired by Apocalypse World, an amazing ttrpg that revolutionized the scene and became the gold standard for interweaving roleplay and gameplay. Dungeon World is meant to be a bridge between DnD and indie rpgs, and it’s good for that, though there are better PbtA games. It’s a good introduction to principles like failing forward and playing to find out what happens (and hell, a good introduction to games having principles lol). There’s also an Avatar the Last Airbender licensed PbtA game that’s very good, if that’s your thing!

Speaking of licensed games, Free League Publishing sets the benchmark for rpgs built for existing intellectual properties, and while I haven’t played all of their games, I’m a big fan of what I have played. They also have independent settings, like Twilight 2000, a really good apocalypse survival game set in a collapsing warfront between an alternate-history NATO and Soviet Union as the two dying empires bring all of society down in their death spiral. I’m using it as the base for my Halo rpg, it’s very good.

Blades in the Dark is another big name in the indie scene, and for good reason. It’s a heist game that has been adapted to lots of other settings (games that say they’re “Forged in the Dark” take inspiration here) and it’s clear to see why so many have used it as a foundation once you’ve played, it’s an exciting crime procedural where you play a group of scoundrels punching above your weight and facing the consequences

There’s a million other amazing rpgs I could mention here, and I’m sure people will talk about plenty of lovely ones I’ve missed in the notes, but I think the most important thing I want to convey with this is that there’s a whole world of diverse and interesting rpgs at all levels of production, from big corporate teams to one girl with a laptop who barely knows how to make a pdf, and there’s no better time to start exploring them.

A common refrain is that DnD can be modified to do anything, but once you’ve played other rpgs you’ll see why that’s not true, and why those creative efforts would be better spent in other systems. Hacking rpgs is as old a tradition as rpgs themselves, but if the only tools you know are DnD, you’re being limited with what you can create more than you could possibly know. There’s no better time to leave this Plato’s Cave and see the beauty and wonder of the whole ttrpg scene

[fortuna-et-cataclysmos]

S5 finale: wrapping up the "running out of time" theme

So I have been mentioning frequently that there is a theme of "running out of time" in season 5, but I wasn't able to make out the meaning of it, until now.

We can say that there are three situations where the theme explicitely manifests:

Gabriel: After receiving a cataclysm wound in Destruction, we often hear Gabriel repeat that he is running out of time. The entire Intuition episode is based on that premise.

Ladynoir: This is the most obvious manifestation of this theme. In Jubilation, Ladybug and Chat Noir live a dream just to be constantly reminded that their perfect life together will end when they wake up to reality. I call it Ladynoir, but actually it is Maribug's love and romantic relationship with Chat in general.

Adrinette: This is the most subtle one, but it is there. Notice how Marinette needs to ease into a relationship with Adrien, and Adrien is doing his best to cut her slack, so much so that he says in Derision, and I quote: "We've got time." Soon after, Adrien is sent to London.

If you think I have forgotten other strings of running out of time, feel free to let me know!

Now let's look at these three strings individually:

Gabriel running out of time

This one is the simplest one as it starts very early on in the season, with the episode Destruction where he gets the cataclym wound, and ends in Recreation with his "sacrifice." Also worthy noting the names of the episodes. What starts as Gabriel running out of time in Destruction is concluded in Recreation with him making his wish, accomplishing his wish, and dying. We can consider this thread concluded.

2. Ladynoir running out of time

Of course, the first episode that comes to mind is Jubilation. In Jubilation we (and the blorbos) learn that they actually desire to be together, romantically. And indeed they get to live a perfect little life in their dream, ignoring the increasingly bigger alarm clocks that are trying to wake them up. Except that at the end Ladybug realises that they must wake up (duty calls!), and she abandons Chat Noir in the dream universe, broken.

From here on, nearly every episode is a warning for Marinette against being romantically together with Chat Noir:

Determination: Marinette accepts that she has feelings for Chat Noir, her reaction to that is crying

Passion: Ladybug's crush on Chat Noir leads to her being distracted and making many critical mistakes in their fight

Reunion: is a cautionary tale about Ladybug and Cat Miraculous holders falling in love

Illusion: (I haven't watched this in a while but I think nothing relevant happens here)

Elation: Marinette is nearly akumatised because of her love to and rejection by Chat Noir

The overarching message from Jubilation to Elation is that: if Maribug ends up with Chat Noir, it'll be a disaster.

So Marinette decides to close up her heart to anyone, and after a brief depression, Adrien finally convinces her to be with him and they become an official couple. From this point onwards, the key ship becomes Adrinette.

Does that mean that Ladynoir has run out of time? Not necessarily. They just decided to love each other in a different way. I should remind here that even though we tend to polarise the sides of the square as fandom, the creators have repeatedly told that the love square is one, there is one love.

The Ladynoir relationship has a direct connection to the Adrinette dynamics because after all, they're the same two people.

3. Adrinette running out of time

Now that Adrinette is finally together, they should have all the time in the world, right? Right? It's what Adrien says, after all.

But I couldn't shake this sense of urgency throughout this season. Every time they said that they had time, it made me feel like they actually don't and they don't know it. And it was exactly what they wanted to make us feel: with Adrien's move to London, it turns out they didn't have time. Worse is that, Adrien actually knew that he'd need to move to London but he couldn't tell it to Marinette, he kept it a secret all the way till he was shipped off to London.

And there is a parallel between Jubilation and Revolution here: in both episodes, their dream is shattered, they share one last dramatic kiss, and they are torn apart from one and other (@asukiess had a big brain time and pointed this out back when Revolution aired).

But now, in Recreation, Gabriel is gone. Everything is fixed? Everyone will be happy, right?

Well... No.

As I pointed out in a previous post, the world that Gabriel creates is a bit too bright, too perfect. The show is notorious for associating the sun with fake happiness at this point, while the "real" moments are rainy and/or dark. And let's see the colour palette in the end:

Another detail that makes me put on my tinfoil hat:

They're not very visible on the static image, but there are white butterflies flying over the flower arch. Those could be symbolising the end, as a reference to how Ladybug releases the purified akuma at the end of each episode. But it might also have a second meaning, a reference to how this world was in fact created upon the ideals of Gabriel.

And that can't be good for anyone. I explain more the consequences and aftermath of this episode in the post I mention above, but basically this world is Gabriel's ideal, and it is far from being a good place for neither Marinette, nor Adrien.

One main reason why: Gabriel has left Marinette with the truth about the Monarch, and she agreed to keep it a secret from Adrien. But we know that it will eventually come out. Either she tells it to Chat Noir, or maybe Lila plots something, but it won't remain a secret forever. And when it does... it will have tremendous impact on not only Adrinette, but also Ladynoir.

This world is a fantasy world where Marinette and Adrien have ended up together, just like in: Chat Blanc, Ephemeral, Oblivio, Jubilation. And at one point the alarm clock will ring, the hammer will drop, and both Ladynoir and Adrinette will run out of time. Except that this time, we may not be able to revert back to the status quo.

Gabriel has left them with a tickling time bomb.

[pxtched]

ok so this head has been rotting in my head and i think its time to let it free.

so pirate!miguel stumbles on siren!reader's territory by accident bc his ship got wrecked and he was sorta the only left of his crew (u can change that if u want ofc) and siren!reader saves him cus she wants to know if any other man is gonna come so she can prepare herself for a future attack. he wakes up by mouth to mouth but he doesnt realise until siren!reader herself says something about it. the rest you can decide.

i love ur fics sm! stay hydrated!<33

𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞

╰ Pirate!miguel x Fem!siren!reader.

╰ angst, death, slowly gaining trust then immediate betrayal, (not really…)

AN: this is so short I’m SO SORRY, thank you for letting it free!! Thank you for requesting and hope this is to your liking!

Miguel ohara.

That was a name that was well known, feared, and one of the strongest captains and have one of the most strongest crew in the sea. Get attacked by him? You’re dead, you aren’t making it out alive.

He’s listening to his crew mate talks about sirens, saying how they are worth a lot and they should go hunting for one! Miguel instantly rejected the idea, saying it’s a waste of time.

Miguel never really believed in sirens, he thought it was some tale to scare kids and to make pirates like him search endlessly for them.

“Awh c’mon!” “No Peter, It’s just a waste of time and resources.” “You are like probably the only captain that dosent believe in sirens” “Because I’m not stupid.”

He remembers helping another crew hunt a siren but never even saw it, nor heard it. Miguel scoffed at the fact he wasted his time helping someone hunt for something that probably wasn’t even real.

But now? He believes, he saw one. He even looked at one. Talked to one.

Miguel felt like he had a fever dream, he doesn’t know how to put it into words that what happened in that day was real and not some random dream.

He’s not even on his ship anymore, not his crew, just some random people. He dosent know what happened to his crew mates but just assumed the worst.

It happened so suddenly, He was sailing on the ocean on his ship with his crew mates. Laughing and just having fun. When he least expected it, the tides got rough, the waves got higher and it was stormy too.

The last thing he saw before passing out was a massive wave, All he remembers is feeling the impact and then black.

His ship wrecked god knows where, His crew mates most likely dead sinking down in the same ocean but different area than Miguel. Miguel was drowning alone.

Until you saw him, You noticed him sinking down. Your first thought was free food but then you realized who he is. He’s a pirate. The same ones who try’s to hunt your kind. You scowl at this discovery but you soon realized he’s alone, his ship is gone too.

You could get information if there’s any attacks coming, their weaknesses and then kill him.

So, you save him. Grabbing his body, stopping him from dying and throwing him on the shore. you look at his body, you recognize that symbol that’s on his chest...your eyes widened, you grit your teeth as the grip on him tightened.

This was the Captain that helped that crew hunt your kind. Yeah, you are going to kill this man afterwards.

You give him CPR, isn’t working. So you give him mouth to mouth. Soon enough he’s awake sitting up immediately, coughing up some water. He looks at you, looks around. He’s at some random island as some lady saved him.

“What do you want from me? Is there anyone else coming? Is there going to be future attacks I don’t know about?” You immediately question him.

He looks at you once again in confusion and opens his mouth to answer but his mouth closed then his jaw went slack as his eyes widened in horror as he realizes that you aren’t a human but a siren.

He frantically searches for his cutlass but you hold it in front of him “looking for this?” You say as you toss it in the water. He looks at it sink I the water then looks back at you in fear but regain his composure.

“I don’t mean any harm, I didn’t even know—“ you scoffed, not believing his words “Oh cut the bullshit, answer my questions now.” You demanded him.

You get closer to him narrowing your eyes at him as he backs up “Is there going to be any men attacking me? Is there going to be people trying to hunt me down?” You questioned him once again.

“I’m being truthful, I don’t know. I didn’t hear anything about people looking for you. I don’t mean harm, You can see that my crew mates are not here most likely dead. My ship is wrecked. So please trust me.” He pleads, you glare at him and backed off.

“Why would i ever believe a pirate Like you?” You sneered at him, and he sighed “Please, I’m alone. You have my word.” He pleads once again. You look at him trying to see if he’s trying to trick you but you don’t see any malice in his eyes.

You decided to trust him, you felt bad for him. And you especially know how it is to be alone so, you just nodded and point your head to the island “There’s some food there, You Can stay” you tell him and you swam away in the water.

He smiled and began to explore the island, trying to see what he can work with for the time being. He can deal with this, He is a bit shaken up that he just talked to a siren.

As time went by, you guys respected your guys space. Staying away from eachother…which was actually you avoiding him because you still hated him.

But after a couple of days, you talked to him more. Making short and awkward small talks but it’s something!

Now Miguel sits at the shore, looking at the water as he searches for you. He notices your eyes staring at him back and he’s a bit startled but he offers his hand to you, you swim up to him and take his hand.

“Yes?” You say, tilting your head. He smiled at you and puts an apple in your hand “Here, I don’t really know what you eat and i don’t want you to still hate me” you eyes widened at his kindness.

You couldn’t help but chuckle a bit “you don’t do your research?” You say as you take a bite of the apple, usually you’ll just eat whatever is in the sea or sailors but sometimes an apple wouldn’t hurt.

He shakes his head “No, I don’t focus on stuff like that. I just focus on where I’m going, why, and the safety.” He admits honestly, you raise and eyebrow at him being a bit skeptical of him.

“You were there helping another pirate hunt my kind” you pointed out and he sighed “you think I wanted too? It was a waste of my time and my resources. Even after that I didn’t believe”

You smile. Maybe he isn’t half bad “Realized I never got your name, What is your name?” You asked him.

He smiles, knowing he’s getting on good terms with you “Miguel, Miguel ohara” and he offered you a handshake, you give him a handshake.

“you aren’t that bad Miguel, I thought you were going to kill me or send men my way” you joked and he shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t either way, why would i crash my ship risk my teammates life and my own! just for a chance to get you?” He asks and you thought about it. Huh, he was right. “Dunno, people are desperate.” You shrugged and he laughed.

“True, true. I see pirates fight all the time and I don’t get why!” He says while eating some berrys, You didn’t even notice but he was halfway in the water. “So, how’s the pirate life been?” You asked him.

“It’s…Something alright, it’s always shocking something. Everyday is an adventure and I…had my crew mates with me, it was fun and I miss it. I miss their laughter, and…everything.” he tells you. His shoulders dropped as he has a frown on his face.

You feel bad for him, you understand how that feels to be left alone. To miss home, to miss everyone and everything.

You put a hand on his shoulder and then loved it up to his cheek for him to look at you.

“Hey, It’s okay. I understand where your coming from. Trust me, I know how it feels to be alone. I didn’t live here always, I was with my family, my friends but then…they came. I seen all of my family die in front of my eyes.” You looked away, You didn’t like going back to this memory but you told him anyways.

“I tried to stop them but 3 ships was there. I couldn’t do anything, so I swam away as fast as I can. And that’s how I got here” you confessed to him.

It was silence for a few moments but then he apologized “I’m sorry that happened, but hey! You got me now” he says with a smile, picking the mood back up. you laughed, You Can Finally trust him.

But that thought quickly goes away, you hear the familiar sounds of a pirate ship. Your smile dropped. There was multiple, he lied to you.

His eyes widened in horror as your widened as well. You back away from him, looking at him with disgust and betrayal. You turn around to the ships and you noticed that they are aiming their pistols at you, their cannons as well.

He desperately pleads that he didn’t do this, that he didn’t know but you glared at him. You’re in disbelief that you actually gave him the benefit of the doubt and trust him.

As much as you want to attack him, You safety matters first. So you swim away deep in the water as Miguel watches, as he hears his name being called from the people above.

A/N2: im so sorry this took so long

[nicorobinmywife]

One piece boys having a clumsy partner.

*the gif is just for illustration*

Summary: the boys taking care of their partner who is always getting hurt for being clumsy. GN reader.

Request by: i forgot their name 😭

Characters: Shanks, Sabo, Luffy and Zoro.

Shanks

he is a very patient man with his lover, even when you accidentally spill drinks on his favorite shirt.

one day Shanks forgot his coat on his room and asked you to go get it, what seemed like an easy task turned into a disaster when you tripped and fell overboard.

after Shanks saved you from drowning, you apologized a thousand times for wetting his favorite coat.

he just smiled, ruffled your hair and asked you to be more careful next time.

Sabo

Sabo left to carry out another one of his missions, you tried to please your boyfriend by making him a nice dinner when he comes back but you blew up the whole kitchen.

"you should be more careful, my love." - he tends to your wounds, sometimes you feel bad, your boyfriend returns exhausted from his commitments and still has to take care of you

Sabo got used to always coming back from a mission and finding his clumsy lover hurt, but he will never get tired of taking care of you.

Luffy

you are as clumsy as Luffy, no wonder the crew got worried when you started dating him.

one day Franky and Usopp were testing out the ship's new cannonballs and your dumbasses just put your heads in the cannon and got shot.

there was another day when you and Luffy tried to play with Nami's clima-tact and got electrocuted.

when you two get hurt, Luffy tends to ignore his own injuries to take care of you.

Zoro

he definitely gets mad at you, especially when you interrupt his training because your dumbass fell down the stairs.

Zoro would NEVER trust you with his swords, who knows what kind of accident you would cause?

"damn y/n how many times do i have to save your life?" - Zoro grumbles as he carries you over his shoulder and takes you to Chopper.

the fact that you can take down a hundred of marine guards but can't get down the stairs without almost dying confuses the hell out of him.

[h0bg0blin-meat]

What hindu gods/deities are lgbt (I'm sorry if this is rude or ignorant I just wish to learn as I've heard some are)

Dw it's neither rude nor ignorant. Now before I start I do wanna say that almost all the queerness we see in Hindu mythology is highly subtextual most of the time, which is like pretty obvious cuz these were the ancient times. So this might lead to a varied number of interpretations, and I can only offer the same. But most of them are pretty convincingly queer, so let's get into it cuz why tf not. (This is gonna be a loooooong post so buckle up)

Vishnu

This fella is probably the most pan-coded deity in the entire pantheon. Extremely comfortable with both his masculine and feminine side, Vishnu can sometimes be considered one of the peak genderfluid icons out there. His avatar, Krishna, despite being referred to as the Parampurush (in other words the manliest man in the entire universe), his physical appearance (which is what is considered to be a very feminine body for a man today, i.e., slender and soft) breaks the stereotype of what masculine man should look like. There are paintings of him and Radha where I've stared for like a hot minute trying to figure out which one is Radha (mostly in grayscale cuz otherwise their complexions are a dead giveaway) and yet, he slays it like a badass.

Then we also have Mohini, the goddess of beauty probably the best seductress out there, and the only female avatar of Vishnu. Through her having a union (yk what they mean by that) with Shiva (AHEM subtext amirit), Vishnu gave birth to Ayyappa, and wouldja look at dat he has two dads, which was actually prophesized. Mohini in one of the versions of Mahabharata (not the original one) ALSO slept with Iravan (Arjun's son) the night before he was gonna offer himself as a sacrifice for the Kurukshetra war. Reason was that Iravan had a wish to get married and spend the night with his wife before dying, and wishing his wife would mourn for him after his death. So Krishna felt bad for him, turned himself into Mohini and married him. The next day she held her husband's body and mourned for him like any wife would. We can also go back to the time where he sported (make of that word what you will) with Arjuni (female version of Arjun) as well as the female version of Narad (for a year in the latter's case).

In short, we can see how chill Krishna is with his fluidity with sexuality and gender, so much so that it's hard to put a label on him sometimes, which is fine. But yes interpreting him as queer wouldn't necessarily be a preposterous claim after all.

Shiva

Tbh Shiva is also pretty queer-coded, given his union with Mohini (and yes he specifically ASKED Vishnu to turn into her and hence he KNEW it was his best friend after all), and him turning into a woman to join Krishna's leela that one time, which also denotes that he's pretty confident in his gender fluidity as well, to some extent. He also has a sort of female avatar, who's actually very underrated. I think it's called Shivani. Also no one can deny the tension between Shiva and Vishnu let's be real here. They even have a ship name- Harihar, PLUS that "Vishnu is in the heart of Shiva and Shiva is in the heart of Vishnu" line. Btw this was a joke, but now you know why they're one of the popular ships of Hindu mythology. I personally have very neutral stance to the kind of bond they share, whether you call it platonic or something else.

(Note that I personally do not consider Ardhanarishwar and Vaikunthakamalaja as any genderfluid thingy because I just see them as literal fusions of the two couples, but yes many consider these two fused versions of Parvati-Shiva and Lakshmi-Narayan respectively to be gender-nonconforming, or non-binary of some sort.)

Lakshmi

Why did I add her here? Because I have a feeling she might be bi, given the fact that her husband is also technically her wife, considering we take Mohini into account, who I'm pretty sure she loves just as much as she loves Vishnu. But again, that's just my take on it.

Agni

Now he's one of the more popular queer-coded Hindu gods, specifically known for his implied poly-esque relationship with his wife Svaha and Soma (the wind god). Now many sites on Google have claimed Soma to be his husband, but I am yet to find a scriptural evidence for that claim, so I suggest you to take their words with a grain of salt. But what IS true is that these two guys do share a pretty profound bond. There was also this one instance where Soma went to a mountain and Agni followed him. Then both of them at the top of that mountain, 'became one' (what does that mean? not sure but it sure as hell sounded romantic. anyways).

Plus, Agni is also very well-known to be the (oral) receptor of Shiva's (and sometimes Soma's but not sure about the second one) semen, which he then flung into Ganga cuz it was too hot to bear for him, and that's how Kartikeya/Murugan/Skanda (Shiva and Parvati's son and a God of war) was born. So yeah.

Mitra-Varuna

These two.... are another pair of popular queer-coded Hindu deities. They're almost always summoned and worshipped together, and you can say they have canonically.... well had a union, and good news is none of them became a woman for the deed. Their union is recorded in the Shatapatha Brahmana 2.4.4.19, where Mitra is said to have "implanted his seed in Varuna" (hmmm nothing homosexual going on here) during the waning moon. Many people consider this a metaphor for the cyclic nature of celestial phenomena so it's upto you to interpret it however you want.

Now they also give off that sunshine x grumpy vibe, with Mitra being the god of friendship, sun, daylight, dawn and stuff while Varuna is the god of the waters, moon, nighttime, dusk etc. Plus, the latter has anger issues but he has a bubbly Mitra (pun intended) to calm him down for dat :D.

They are also known for siring two sages, Agastya and Vasistha after they accidentally released and mixed their semen into a pot as a result of getting enchanted by Urvashi (one of the apsaras or celestial nymphs).

Budh and Ila

Budh is technically an AMAB non-binary (or intersex) deity (and technically the planet Mercury) born to Chandra (who's also synonymous to Soma most of the time) and Tara, to put it simply, and got cursed to be neither male nor female because Chandra had an affair with someone else's wife -_- (Tara was the wife of Brihaspati, or Jupiter, who was also the guru of the gods).

Ila is another genderfluid deity. Some versions of the myth says they were born a woman, some say they were born a man called Sudyumna, while some say they were born a woman, but since their parents wanted a son, Mitra-Varuna (who they preyed to) changed their gender and Sudyumna was born (but then there was some issue with the rituals, which led to the duo to turn him back to a woman, which is when they took the name of Ila. Ik, too much gendershifting going on, bear with me). Anyhoo they got this genderfluidity from Shiva's spell and every month they'd change sex from Sudyumna to Ila and back to Sudyumna and so on. Budh got enchanted by Ila and married her, and bore the Pururavas with her.

Later on, some versions say Ila permanently turned into a man with Parvati's boon. But personally interpreting, Budh was technically still married to Sudyumna so..... idk what happened to them afterwards tho. I hope they were still spouses...

[babybells123]

Why Jonsa compels me.

You know, part of if not all the reason that I find myself thoroughly and continually compelled by Jonsa in such a way that no other Asoiaf ship (or fandom pairing for that matter) does is because of how much it intrigues me from a character, intertextual, and literary/artistic standpoint. And how I’m constantly unveiling new (fascinating) things.

From a character level, I want more than anything for Jon and Sansa to love and be loved in its purest form. For them to finally attain the sweetness after all the bitter. For it to be this unadulterated thing brought into the light - that inspires hope, dreams and peace. Not just in themselves, but in the people who surround them. In Winterfell itself, (perhaps even the realm). That prospers and is unrelenting despite the darkness. I don't and will never subscribe to the rhetoric that either of these characters (namely Sansa, who suffers from this periodically) should be punished and have humility instilled in them by being paired with a fundamentally bad/evil character. Or that either of them should end up all alone, dying withered and without having experienced love and family and life - when they only possessed it for such a small portion of their lives. These are teenagers who have lamented their inadequacies after loss and trauma and abuse. Who just want to go home, who yearn to restore Winterfell to what it once was. Who wish for children and romance - but who have told themselves they can never have it in its most genuine untouched form.

But above all, these are teenagers just wanting to be loved, more than anything else in this world - they want placement, they want a home, and home to them is equated with love.

"She could feel the snow on her lashes, taste it on her lips. It was the taste of Winterfell. The taste of innocence. The taste of dreams." (ASOS, Sansa VII).

"Yet he could not let the wildlings breach the Wall, to threaten Winterfell and the north....For eight thousand years the men of House Stark had lived and died to protect their people against such ravagers and reavers . . . and bastard-born or no, the same blood ran in his veins. Bran and Rickon are still at Winterfell besides. Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik, Old Nan, Farlen the kennelmaster, Mikken at his forge and Gage by his ovens . . . everyone I ever knew, everyone I ever loved." (ASOS, Jon II).

They draw strength from their blood.

"Then you must do what needs be done," Qhorin Halfhand said. "You are the blood of Winterfell and a man of the Night's Watch." (ACOK, Jon VI).

"He was the blood of Winterfell, a man of the Night's Watch." (ASOS, Jon VI).

"He has Stark blood in him. The blood of Winterfell." (ADWD Jon IV).

"I am not your daughter, she thought. I am Sansa Stark, Lord Eddard's daughter and Lady Catelyn's, the blood of Winterfell." (AFFC Sansa I).

In Sansa's case, it is to remind herself of who she is at her core. That she isn't Littlefinger's plaything, or this political claimant, or a traitor's daughter, Lady Lannister any of that. She is Sansa Stark, and her blood will one day carry on the Stark name. And it will be in her own right.

And in Jon's case, it also exists to remind himself of who he is at his core. I can't place the quote right now, but GRRM has stated that despite not knowing who his mother is, Jon knows who he is, deep down. And my interpretation is Jon's core values, his honour, his worth. It has various meanings, but I find it all the more powerful when it's in reference to who Jon is as a person. To how he chooses to take action, seek justice, protect and love despite those flaws, inadequate qualms, insufficiencies. And I truly believe that is GRRM's allusion there.

Jon may not know who his mother is, but he knows who he is at his fundamental core. It's a matter of finding it and having the courage to wear it on his sleeve. And I think that is so vital for self-preservation and to live, to prosper.

When I consider Jon and Sansa together, I consider this mutual healing. And I'm not only talking about Jon endeavouring to retain his humanity after what happened to him, after the knives have swallowed him whole and he's uncertain, unsure, untamed. I expect to see that happen, and I anticipate for Sansa to guide him through that with gentleness and tenderness that he hasn't truly known. But even more so, It's about Jon finding acceptance within himself. I can imagine a scene with Sansa lamenting that Jon is a Stark "you are to me" and It's just so much more emotionally grounding for it to come from the girl most distant to Jon (the poetry of it all omfg).

But Sansa needs that reassurance from Jon as well, desperately.

"Sansa Stark went up the mountain, but Alayne Stone is coming down. It was a strange thought. Coming up, Mya had warned her to keep her eyes on the path ahead, she remembered. "Look up, not down," she said . . . but that was not possible on the descent. I could close my eyes. The mule knows the way, he has no need of me. But that seemed more something Sansa would have done, that frightened girl. Alayne was an older woman, and bastard brave." (AFFC, Alayne II).

And I believe he will be the one to help her with that.

"the wind was howling fiercely. It sounds like a wolf, thought Sansa. A ghost wolf, big as mountains."

.....

"Snow? Yes, it would be Snow, I suppose."

"She had not thought of Jon in ages. He was only her half brother, but still . . . with Robb and Bran and Rickon dead, Jon Snow was the only brother that remained to her. I am a bastard too now, just like him. Oh, it would be so sweet, to see him once again. But of course that could never be. Alayne Stone had no brothers, baseborn or otherwise." (AFFC, Alayne II).

Although she is meant to be assimilating into this Alayne Stone faux-identity, we see Sansa having the thoughts pertaining to the North, WF, home, Jon. Cracks beneath the surface where it is Sansa who had possessed that thought, who possessed that feeling, not Alayne. She will not allow Alayne to consume her. But it will be undoubtedly difficult, and only someone from the sweet memories of home and her childhood, perhaps a mirage, something that only existed as a conception rather than a fleshed out person. And I believe that is how Jon sees Sansa too. The reunion is where they will know each other deeply, intimately, truly. Down to the bones, inside out. And in regards to Sansa's reclaiming of identity, of the suppression of her own feelings and twisting of circumstance in order to cope with her trauma - Jon could help her there. It'd be a learning curve for both of them, as I said - mutual healing. But that doesn't that make it all the more beautiful?

These are two strong characters disguised by the author under shallow differences: Oppositional climates, but the same disillusioning experience. Assimilation into a different identity, but the same hold onto the "blood of Winterfell," the same strength drawn from rebuilding from the ashes. Opposite social standing parallels; quite literally living in each other's shoes, and reasserting that distant (fond) connection to each other despite it.

"Jon. said,"Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa." (ADWD, Jon IV).

"By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa." (ADWD, Jon I).

Despite being offered the chance of lordship, a family, love - everything Jon has ever truly wanted, he rejects it on this basis. He sets himself apart from the rest that have tainted Sansa, have clung to her like a vice, that don't allow her to exist in her truest self.

"I am a bastard too now, just like him." (AFFC, Alayne II).

And as we know, Sansa has been subconsciously (and then made the conscious assertion) modelling her Alayne Stone persona after Jon.

And you have that physical difference. At the beginning Sansa has a more inherent connection to the South (knights, chivalry, the faith, Tully appearance). Whereas Jon has a more inherent connection to the North (Night's Watch, Weirwood resembling Direwolf, old gods, northern features). Geographical opposites essentially experiencing similar disillusioning journeys. Jon learning that not all Night’s Watchmen are noble like Benjen, Sansa learning knights and princes and everything she has idolised as not as chivalric as she believes.

(But Sansa will find that true knight in Jon - it’s his unconventionality in appearance, a ‘black knight’ that has continuously upheld values Sansa believes in, and has fulfilled her wishes unknowingly, that leads me to this conclusion, but I digress.)

You can read more about this concept of parallel journeys here (there is some excellent analysis as early as 2012.

https://asoiaf.westeros.org/index.php?/topic/72119-from-pawn-to-player-rethinking-sansa-x/page/18/

So we have established cultural differences. Visually, it’s pretty obvious. Sansa is auburn-haired, blue eyed, beautiful. Jon is brown-haired, grey eyed, plainish?alongside the presentation of a traditionally masculine and traditionally feminine figure. GRRM has done this intentionally, he has made them as different as possible on the surface.

But both of these kids can be hotheaded, naive, a bit stuck up, and rather defensive and when it comes to what they idealise. (Let’s add snarky in there as well lol). You can pick up on this from their behaviour/actions/thoughts circa AGOT . And you know what ? I’m glad for such character flaws, it just makes them all the more compelling. But it makes them very similar.

Now as I’ve stated, it’s perhaps more difficult for readers to discern this if they’re not reading deeper than the surface level differences. it's easier for readers to consider them insignificant to each other personally and on narrative standpoint… because why would they give them any thought?? If they’re not consciously thinking of each other a lot, and there’s no on page interaction, then why should we care about analysing their relationship at all?

And well, many Jonsas will say ‘ah, you see that’s what makes them so very interesting’ you have to wonder why the author did not convey explicit on page interaction, or gave them much conscious thinking of each other. It’s not always about what the author includes but what the author omits. Even if a character says something that is…contradictory to their character. (Jon’s willowy creature line is self-contradictory because he’s shown on multiple occasions how much he actually appreciates gentle woman, and this boy is a romantic at heart). Can it perhaps be inferred that Jon says this because of repression. Because he’s a complex, fleshed out being who internalises and represses things he actually wants).

“He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade.” (ASOS Jon XII)

I mean, we even see Ned do this in his chapters. He doesn’t really think about Jon a whole lot, or the fact that Jon isn’t his biological son - but people infer that from the Lyanna references, ‘promise me’ the tower of joy etc etc it’s prettyyy clear that Ned is quite literally repressing that truth and has buried it away so it can never see light. It’s living tucked away in his long term memory, and not even the reader is privy to such thoughts. So if the author can do this for Ned, why not other characters?? Well, the thing is - he does. Because he instils complexity - he makes them raw and human. It’s why Sansa misremembers the events of Blackwater to cope, and Jon tries (and fails) to ignore every impulse to ride south and avenge his family.

But the thing is, people choose to be selectively blind and I'll say it, take things at face value. When you dig beneath the surface, that's when it all starts to make sense. And whew, you realise the potential.

But we know there is no malice between them. We know there is love in perpetuity albeit distant (but that does not lesson it). We know that Jon is not blind to Sansa's "radiant" beauty, we know that he appreciates her romanticism because he is romantic himself, we know that he associates her with softer imagery - singing, brushing out her wolf's fur, that she is appreciative of courtesy. We know that he protects her claim. Multiple times. We know that Sansa includes him in her prayers, that she empathises with him in the Night's Watch, that she models her bastard status after him and that she thinks of how utterly sweet it'd be to see him again, to be in his arms again (or maybe it'll be for the first time?

And then there is how they exist in this subconscious place. The compatible dreams of having a family.

"If I give him sons, he may come to love me. She would name them Eddard and Brandon and Rickon... In Sansa's dreams, her children looked just like the brothers she had lost. Sometimes there was even a girl who looked like Arya." (ASOS, Sansa II).

"I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children.I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. " (ASOS, Jon XIII).

The blood of Winterfell (as I have previously discussed), the similar idealism, a steady belief in honour, in some goodness left in the world, the falling in love with people who are almost identical to each other (See Waymar being a more handsome version of Jon and Ygritte being a plainer version of Sansa), our beloved chapter transitioning with Jon never being far from Sansa's suitors, the unconscious answering of a hero, snow equated with security, home, Jon. "The Snow of Winterfell."

And of course there is that extra source material, there is the allusion to the inverse songs/stories, the ashford tourney and Jon's similarities with Valarr Targaryen, Jonnel 'One Eye' and Sansa Stark getting married.

The literary influence. The Pre-Raphaelite art, the Byronic influence, the just...sheer Bronte-esque I heard you from the other side of the realm and I shall find you even though the narrative is consistently against us... the human.heart.in.conflict.with.itself. William Faulkner.

I couldn't possibly compile every possible reference and discussion in this singular post, but here's what I can say: Jonsa compels me because of how much in line with the overarching theme of the narrative is . For hope to prevail despite all the darkness. A dream of spring. A dream of better futures, the taste of "innocence" and "dreams." I'm not expecting a fairytale ending, but I am expecting sweetness in some form. And the complexity that Jonsa would undoubtedly bring to the characters, to the audience, to the narrative cannot be understated. It's utterly profound and I believe that's why it is so threatening to the vast majority of the fandom.

It isn't just the human heart in conflict with those of Jon and Sansa, it is also the human heart in conflict with those of the audience. A Song Of Ice and Fire will never be easy on the reader, and when something this textually rich is built up, to then assume that the author has inserted all this in as mere coincidence severely discredits him as a writer. To assume that the author will go by the 'safest' option is disingenuous. To believe that this series will be like any other fantasy series is disingenuous. To believe that the author would go down the most conventional route to appease the general fandom is...disingenuous. I mean, this is the same guy who wrote the Red Wedding, to be clear. And that unpredictability and sheer subversiveness was clear from the first chapter. He is twisting fantasy on its head. He is twisting characters on their heads and everything we expect of them. And if people are this riled up by a theory well... I believe that is exactly what GRRM has intended.

[flowersandbigteeth]

Meeting your Changeling BF: Prt 3

General Plot: You meet some of your kind

Word Count: 3k

Changeling (Clark) x f flower nymph reader

TW: nsfw smut, oral, p in v sex, light mind control

Find other parts here

Just like the rest of the ship, the dining room was grand. The tables were lined with bleached tablecloths and neatly dressed waiters shuffled around the space carrying delicious smelling food. Clark ushered you to a small table for two and pulled out your seat for you. 

“Thanks,” you said, your cheeks burning. 

No one had every been so gentlemanly with you before. In your world that sort of thing was dying out. You felt special and cared for in a very unique way. 

Your eyes darted around the dining room as you still hadn’t gotten used to seeing such a variety of different magical creatures, finally settling on a handful of people with flowers blooming in their hair like yours. 

“There are other nymphs!” you whispered to Clark, trying not to make it obvious you were noticing them. 

He gave them a bored glance before returning his attention to the menu. 

“Do you like fish?” he asked,  more interested in ordering dinner. 

One of them caught your eye and turned to the others, pointing at you. Finally, they came to some sort of conclusion and one wandered over to your table. Her hair was fiery red and her cheeks covered in freckles. White daisies bloomed from the braid that wrapped around her head like a crown. 

“Well met,” she said, nodding to you, then giving Clark a mistrustful glance. “Our party noticed you and wanted to…” 

She trailed off, still looking at Clark disdainfully. 

“Maybe you can come over and I can introduce you to my friends,” she said. “It’s not often we come across another nymph outside of the old wood.” 

You glanced at Clark, unsure, but he finally gave you a small nod, though he didn’t seem happy about it. 

“I’m Daisy,” she said, introducing herself. 

The moment you reached their table the other nymphs surrounded you, blocking your view of Clark. 

“Are you okay?” one with black roses wound through her long braid asked. 

She glared at Clark. 

“Has that changeling kidnapped you?” she continued. 

Your head snapped back, confused by their concern. 

“Of course not,” you laughed nervously. “Clark is my friend.” 

“We have no friends but one another,” black rose hissed, turning back to her companions. “Perhaps he’s bespelled her.” 

Daisy held up her hands giving you a placating smile. 

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” she said, eyeing her friends. “What’s your name, love?”

“(Y/N),” you said and she narrowed her eyes at you. 

“That’s rather uncommon,” she pointed out. “Did he name you that?”

You shook your head. 

“Of course not,” you said. “My mother…” 

Their eyes widened. 

“What do you mean your mother?” black rose demanded. 

“Isn’t it normal for a mother to name her child?” you asked. 

She looked at you as if you were insane. 

“Are you unwell?” she asked. “Nymphs bloom from flowers and form from sea foam, we have no mothers, but the one whisperer. The old wood cares for us until we can care for ourselves. Is that what the changeling told you? Has he filled your head with lies?” 

“No, no,” you said, waving your hands, “my situation is complicated…I wasn’t…born here. There was a soul-swap.” 

This made the nymphs appear even more upset. 

“He soul swapped you?!” black rose, who seemed to be their leader barked. “So he has filled your head with lies! He thought he’d take a vulnerable nymph and swap her out with one he could manipulate!” 

“Clark would never do that,” you argued. “He’s just my friend. The other me swapped our souls.” 

Black rose shook her head. 

“A nymph would return to the old wood before she sent herself to another universe,” she growled. “That changeling had something to do with this!” 

“It’s complicated,” you tried to argue, but the nymphs were having none of it, circling you. 

“Come now,” Daisy said. “You’re scaring the poor girl.” 

“She should be scared,” the rose snipped. “Goddess knows what that monster has in store for her.” 

You straightened, frowning. 

“Clark is not a monster!” you snapped. “You don’t know me or anything about me. I won’t listen to you badmouth him from some silly prejudice the people of this world all seem to share. He rescued me from a man that would have harmed me and he’s been nothing but kind!” 

Daisy nodded, trying to get her friends to relax. 

“(Y/N) is right,” she said. “We can’t assume things about her life. We’ve only just met. Just because none of us would perform a soul swap, doesn’t mean she’s lying.” 

“She knows nothing of this world!” the rose hissed. “I don’t trust him!” 

Daisy sighed. 

“Well, we’re not endearing ourselves to her insulting her friend,” she insisted, then turned back to you. “Please forgive Rosalie. While we don’t trust the changeling, you look well and safe. All I can say is that if he does harm you or if you get scared at all, flee to the old wood. Your magic will guide you and you will find friends amongst the nymphs. We look out for one another.”

“We ought to take her with us,” Rosalie grumbled, glaring openly at Clark. 

Apparently you’d been gone long enough and he wandered over to the group of you. 

“Is everything okay, (Y/N)?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at the nymphs. “You look upset.” 

“Everything is fine,” Daisy answered for you, giving you a knowing look. “We only wished to greet one of our kind. We hope you enjoy your evening.” 

Clark put a hand on your shoulder and directed you back to your table. 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked, as your face probably looked disturbed. 

“Yes,” you sighed, forcing a smile to your lips. “Meeting new people is tiring for me. I think I’ve had enough of that for the day.”  

“Understandable,” he chuckled and a waiter approached to take your order. 

You couldn’t help churn what the nymphs had told you over and over in your head. Could Clark have really done the soul swap himself? Why would he have done that? From what he’d said of the other (Y/N), he sounded like he had a lot of affection for her. It didn’t make any sense that he would send her away. 

“Can I ask you a question?” you asked suddenly and his slate eyes flicked up to you. 

“I said you can ask me anything,” he said easily. 

“How…How did (Y/N) get her name?” you asked. 

He smiled with pride. 

“I chose it for her,” he said. “When I met her in forest she had no name. Most nymphs go by whatever flower blooms from their heads when they meet one another in the old wood. She was still very young, just a baby really, and hadn’t yet met another of her kind. I hated that. I wanted her to have a special name. So I chose (Y/N). That it is the same as yours, across universes, is only evidence that I chose correctly.” 

Your heart thumped in your chest as you considered his answer. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, eyes flicking back towards the nymphs who were arguing amongst themselves. 

“No,” you said, again forcing yourself to smile. “Nothing is wrong. I just wondered…I’m sorry. I said I didn’t want to speak of the other me and then I brought her up. Ignore me.” 

“I could never ignore you,” he said. 

His hand slid across the table to cover yours. 

“I would never harm you, (Y/N),” he said. “I’m sorry those nymphs stressed you. Relax and enjoy your meal.”

Immediately, your shoulders loosened and you sank comfortably into your chair. You were thinking yourself into a tizzy, you decided. Clark had never done a single thing to harm you. Those nymphs simply didn’t know him and made assumptions. There was nothing to stress about, right? Right. 

Your eyes lit up with the waiter returned with what looked like grilled salmon on a bed of some salad. Eating your delicious meal, you decided to keep the soul swap to yourself if you met any other strangers. It wasn’t their business anyway. 

When you were through eating, Clark guided back to your room and you looked out of the window. The sun was setting on the horizon staining the sky gold. You felt his arms wrap around you, his warm breath in your hair. You felt safe. Maybe it was foolish to trust him, but you did. 

“I’m so happy,” he hummed into your ear. “You belong with me. We can go anywhere. Do anything, as long as we are together.” 

He pushed your hair to the side to drop hot kisses on your neck. His heavy hands cupped your breasts and you felt his cock stiffen, pressing onto your back. 

His nimble fingers moved to unbutton your dress. When he'd slipped you out of it and your shoes he turned you to face him. His eyes slid over your body, his expression gentle. 

Long fingers drifted over your body. 

"Wait," you gasped and he looked at you, concerned. 

"What's wrong?" he asked. 

You took a step forward, brushing his cheek with your thumb. 

"I want the real you," you whispered. "You can show whatever face you like to the public, but like this…I want you." 

His eyebrows raised and he gazed at you in awe. 

"Are you sure I don't scare you?" he asked and you shook your head. 

"You said we belong together," you said. "I should have your truth, not some illusion you conjured to fit in." 

His cheeks darkened and a moment later the monster hovered in front of you. So he wouldn't worry over your intentions, you took a step forward and kissed the wide mouth that stretched across his face. His long, hot tongue licked your bottom lip, clawed hands pressing you against him. 

You'd never have thought that big teeth and claws would do it for you, but looking over his looming figure your nipples pebbled and your pussy was wet. Eager to show him your appreciation, you dropped on your knees in front of him, palming the thick cock bobbing between your bodies. You gave it a long lick, from the root to tip and he hissed. You felt the prickle of his claws on your scalp as he cupped your crown. 

His pleasure made you quiver, urging you on. You drew as much as you could inside your mouth, swirling your tongue over the head while your hands strokes the rest that wouldn't fit.

"(Y/N)," he almost whimpered, his hips snapping forward on instinct. You moaned as he touched the back of your throat. 

"Fuck, you're going to end me," he growled, his voice much deeper in this form.  

The monster in him took over and he jerked you up by your arms, surprising you. He tossed you on the soft bed, stalking over to you. His claws slashed the under things he'd bought, leaving tattered bits of fabric around you. 

His tongue explored your body, curling around a nipple, while his claws gently scraped your skin. The thick appendage filled your cunt, collecting your nectar. You were sure he wouldn't harm you, but the thrill that he could was unmatched. Your skin sparkled and your legs spread without a thought. 

"I want you," you gasped watching his cock and licking your bottom lip. 

Indulging himself he fed you his shaft again, pressing your head into the pillow with his measured thrusts. Big scarlet eyes bore down on you, watching you take him down your throat with pure unhinged lust. 

When he was pleased he pulled his hips back, flipping you on your stomach and thrusting inside you with one smooth motion. 

"Ahhh yesss!" you squealed in pleasure as he took you. 

His long, strong fingers wrapped around your throat, squeezing just slightly as he drove into you. 

"I'm the only one who will ever touch you like this," he murmured into your hair, curling his body down to cover you. "I'll never let you go (Y/N). You're mine!" 

Each promise was punctuated by a ragged thrust. 

"Promise me I'm the only one," he demanded, jerking your head back by your hair. "Promise me you'll be mine alone."

You would have agreed to anything with his cock stretching you so perfectly you were almost drooling. 

"Yes, Clark," you mewled between pants. "I'm yours. Only you. Only you." 

A clawed hand left your throat and made its way down your body, squeezing a breast then pinching a nipple, before it found its way to your clit. 

You cried out loud as the pad of his finger toyed with your sensitive bundle of nerves. You exploded on his cock, your back arching. Your pussy milked him, spasming around his shaft. 

Thrown over the edge by your sudden tightness, he roared your name as his hot cum splashed your walls. 

He immediately rolled on his side, pulling you with him. His nose pressed into your neck, inhaling your scent. He caged you in with his thick arms. 

You liked the way he clung to you, holding you like you were precious. No one in your old life had treated you with such open affection as Clark. 

As your mind cleared a question floated in your head. You didn't want to ask, but it came from your mouth anyway. 

"Clark," you whispered as his long fingers stroked your bare hip. 

"Yes?" he asked. 

"Did you feel the same way you feel about me as the other (Y/N)?" you ventured. 

You knew the answer could break your heart. You'd only just met, but your relationship felt inevitable. Like fate. You didn't want to just be a replacement. You wanted him to adore you, not her memory.

He was silent for a moment, then he pulled you close. 

"No." he said, his voice dull as a stone. 

"But you knew her so much longer. You grew up-" you mumbled, but he interrupted your words by turning you around to face him. 

"The other (Y/N) was not like you," he said. "Her spirit was in many ways the same, but…She gave herself to someone else and then spent her life wringing her wrists, unable to make up her mind about him until…until she had to leave. She was my friend, but she was…troubled." 

He kept saying that about her. His last words sounded almost bitter. You watched his red eyes as they focused back on you, his mood shifting suddenly. 

"You ran straight into my arms…where you belong," he said, smiling with a mouth full of shiny, sharp teeth. "Fate brought us together and I won't question her ruling. The old (Y/N) never asked to see my true form. As long as we'd been friends, she never asked." 

He pressed you to his chest. 

"You are special," he assured you. "There is no comparison between the two of you. In fact…" 

He kissed your forehead. 

"Perhaps I wish it had always been you," he said quietly. 

"Clark, you can't mean that," you gasped. 

He kissed your head again. 

"My heart wants what it wants," he sighed. "It wants you. Each day that passes the old (Y/N) becomes a stranger, existing only in my memory. Don't be troubled, I'm sure she's at peace where she is." 

"How can you know?" you whispered. 

"Just a hunch," he hummed.  

You had no choice but to accept his answers, cuddling up to his bigger form.

[grandlinedreams]

| i'm sorry lmao i cried writing this

[Heads up!: mention of blood, death, not really a good time]

Dying hurts.

Are you dying? You didn't think it'd hurt so bad. You can't even tell where the worst of it is coming from, only that it radiates from every pore. 

Your footsteps are unsteady, a staggered pace that breaks when you trip over a rock. Without the strength to correct your balance, you topple to the ground.

Something warm seeps from your stomach. It leaks from your mouth too, making your mouth taste of copper. You cough, and red spatters the ground. 

I think I'm dying. Somehow, you roll onto your back, press a hand to your abdomen. Your fingers meet jagged skin and raw muscle beneath, coming back wet with bright red. Not good. 

You stare at the robin's egg blue sky, cloudless ㅡ somewhere around here is the ship you should be on. You need to make it back, they're going to worry if you don't. You can't make them worry like that.

I need to get up. You can't move, blinking slowly. A bird calls to another as it wheels overhead, wings outstretched. You need to get up.

It hurts to breathe now. It burns in your lungs, rattles in your throat. You know how the fish Sanji caught the other day feels now ㅡ wide eyed, gaping soundlessly. 

The others are going to worry. Your eyes close. I'll just rest a second. Then I'll get up.

ㅡ 

"Are you gonna get up or not?"

Your eyelids twitch at the sound of a familiar voice, the chorus of birdsong above, the warmth of the sun on your face. Someone nudges your side with their foot. 

"Come on," the same voice coaxes gently, "get up." 

Your eyes open, locking with a set of familiar brown ones. Too familiar ㅡ especially with the curls of dark hair above, the spatter of freckles below.

"Am I dead?" 

Ace blinks before he grins, head tipping with a laugh that makes your chest squeeze. "No," he answers, extending a hand down to help yank you to your feet. "Not yet, anyways."

Dusting yourself off, it takes a second for Ace's words to click. "Wait. What do you mean yet?" 

Ace eyes you in a way that makes your skin crawl ㅡ somewhere between knowing and hesitant, and all together melancholy. "Come on," he says, "we should talk about this."

Ace, for all the ways he should not be here in front of you, is as solid as you are when you reach for his hand again. Nevermind the fact he'd helped you up ㅡ the warmth of his palm is a welcome comfort, picks at the scabbed over ache you've been nursing for over two years. 

He died. You know that, much as it still rips you apart to think about it ㅡ Portgas D. Ace is very much dead.

So if he's here, what does that make you?

ㅡ 

"You're not dead," Ace says, watching you over the wild tumble of flames that make up the fire he's made. Above, the sky has bled to a milky dusk, the downward creep of the sun making you shiver. "Not yet."

"You said that before," you say, eyeing him with no small amount of confusion. "Then where am I? Why…how are you here?"

There it is again, that sad look. He knows something you don't ㅡ and it bothers you. "Just spit it out, Ace."

"You're not dead," he repeats, "but you are dying." 

You blink. "Very funny," you say, even though there's not a shred of amusement in Ace's eyes or his expression. "If I'm dying, how am I here? Where ㅡ where are we?"

"Think of it as the in-between of life and death," he says. "A rest stop of sorts." 

You stare at the fire, reach your hands out to it and savor the warmth of it. "And you…?"

Ace's eyes gleam in the firelight. "I'm here to guide you," he answers. "You'll need to decide whether you want to stay or go, [Name]."

ㅡ

You aren't a stranger to death. You've seen it before, been the dealer of it ㅡ and had your own close calls.

But never like this. 

"It's a lot to take in," Ace soothes, fingers drifting through your hair like they used to, and you hum. "Trust me, I didn't think we were going to meet again like this."

You tuck your knees tighter to you. You don't need to ask if Ace saw something like this. His death was fast ㅡ and your chest aches as emotion rises, makes you tremble with it. "I missed you," you start, voice wobbling. "I've never stopped missing you."

"I know."

"You left me," you choke, "you and Pops left…everyone left me." 

Ace reaches for you, gathers you into his lap, lets you bury your face into his neck as he presses his own into yours. "I know," he breathes, "I'm so sorry."

You sob. It's loud and with abandon, the way you'd wanted to two years ago but couldn't ㅡ you'd been left to be strong instead of grieve, to pick up the pieces when all you wanted to do was fall apart. 

Ace holds you, rubs your back as you hiccup and choke, take shuddering breaths. He whispers apology after apology into your skin, presses kisses the way he hasn't been able to in two years. 

You cling to him like a lifeline, desperate fingers curling against his back. "I don't want to go," you mumble, and he doesn't have to ask what you mean.

He kisses your cheek, tries not to think of the other things he knows ㅡ the desperate hands trying to keep you tethered to the land of the living, pleading with you to stay. Begging, because you're part of another family now, and they need you. 

He holds you to him, clings the way you do to him as he closes his eyes. "I know," he says, "I don't want you to either." 

ㅡ 

Ace can't let himself be selfish. He's aware of that, that he can't demand that you stay or go, that it has to be your decision. He's only here to guide you, be a comfort for as long as you need him. 

But it's hard to keep that in mind when it feels like this is just as it should be ㅡ you and him, as if nothing has changed. As if he hasn't been dead for two years, and you aren't about to join him.

He should tell you to fight. Tell you that there are people who still need you there, that somebody needs to look after Luffy. His crewmates are there, of course, but you're his last connection to Ace. 

He's heard you every now and then when he's been allowed to peek in, the stories you tell Luffy when things are quieter, when you can tell Ace's absence is weighing on him. 

He should tell you that knowing his brother as he does, you've become a sibling to him ㅡ and now you're setting him up for loss all over again. And it's not fair.

But you need to make a decision. Tip the scales one way or the other instead of teetering in the middle. 

"How long has it been in…" You hesitate. "You know."

Here ㅡ limbo, as Ace called it ㅡ you get the feeling time creeps by slower. You've only been here a day, but what about where your actual body is?

Ace seats himself next to you, watching as you kick your legs over the edge of the outcropping, the trickle of pebbles that tumbles down. "A couple of days." 

"Mm." You flop backwards, arms eagle spread as you stare up at the sky. "What happens if I decide to live?"

Ace copies you, finds your hand to intertwine your fingers. "Then you disappear from here. You go back." They need you.

"And if I die? What happens?" Your head turns, eyes locking with Ace's.

His fingers curl around yours. "Then you stay here with me." He pauses. "Well, not here, but…yeah. You come with me." I need you. 

You sigh. You should want to live. You should want to fight tooth and nail to get back where you should belong.

But you're so tired. And you've missed Ace ㅡ missed him every day since you lost him. You watch another bird circle overhead, the spread of sleek feathers. 

"I think I know what I want," you say softly. It makes your stomach twist, your chest ache ㅡ but you're making the right decision, you think. You hope. Your fingers curl around Ace's. "I want to stay." 

A lifetime ago, you told Ace he looks prettiest when he smiles. And he's smiling now, even if it's ultimately a little sad, because he knows what you mean by that. 

He sits up and pulls you with him, lets you climb into his lap before he locks his arms around you. You lean back, and he kisses your cheek. "I don't want to be alone," you mumble, and Ace tightens his grip on you.

"You won't be. I promise."

[richonnesbitch]

Any favorite Richonne moments? Rewatching season 6 and forgot about Michonne immediately slamming the woman who punched Rick. I couldn’t help but think how that meme of kevin hart being held is so Richonne coded lmao

Every richonne moment is my favorite moment tbh 😂

I, too, really love when Michonne body slammed that random woman who punched Rick. And it being directly after their first night together makes it sexier. Like that is HER man, she's decided. Like, they're so iconic. Imagine every scene with your ship being their best scene. That's crazy!

But to answer your question I'll name a few of moments I especially love. Some of these are probably underrated, others probably not. It's not gonna be in any type of order because it's too hard to rank lol. But here are five.

1: Taking Judith To Hilltop

Whenever Carl is dying and Alexandria is getting bombed by the saviors, the group decides they need to evacuate to Hilltop. Rick asks Michonne, the person he trusts most in the world, to take Judith to Hilltop. And we all know how much Rick (and Michonne) loves his children so this was definitely a huge thing to ask. I just find it beautiful the amount of trust he has in her. I love that Andy quote where he's like "Rick trusts her with his life and his children's lives." I can't remember the full quote so I'm definitely paraphrasing but it's a great moment. And unfortunately I can't find a picture of the moment either.

2: Mowing Down Walkers with the RDIM

This whole scene is just so crazy to me. It starts off with Michonne annoyed she has to just stand around while everyone else does all the work. Fed up, she decides to ignore Thorne and take charge. She grabs the RDIM and runs and runs and runs pretty far away from everyone else, mowing down walkers along the way. And then all of a sudden who appears next to her? Rick. Do you know how fast he would have to have been running to catch up with her? He's crazy lmao! It's also really sweet in another way too because he knows she might get in trouble for this so he gets himself in trouble with her. Partners in crime! And also im sure he couldn't just let her run into a horde of walkers by herself. Anyway, they mow down the walkers and then Rick sets the RDIM up to explode and grabs Michonne's hand and runs away from the impending explosion with her. And if you notice when they go behind the tree, Rick puts her ahead of himself. He also shields her body with his when the explosion happens. We know what happens next. They start staring into each other's eyes and neither of them are capable of resisting each other so they have a little makeout session complete with tonguing and moaning. Classic richonne. Noticing their connection, Michonne says "come on" referring to how he should leave with her. He warns that "They'll find us, they will." She tells him "we'll make it so they can't." And he's under her spell so of course all his most recent refusal just goes out the window as he tells her "not like this." It ends with a signature forehead touch. I feel like this is a thing richonne generally does when they feel distant from one another. Physical touch is big for them so I feel like the forehead touching is a way to reconnect them I think. It's beautiful. So anyway they head back to the rest of the group to help. Thorne's goofy ass decides that Michonne, or Dana, is more trouble than she's worth and aims her big gun at her. Somehow Michonne's bodyguard Rick notices this immediately. It's crazy how he ALWAYS has eyes on her to protect her. No wonder she said she only feels safe with him. He sticks himself between the gun and Michonne, blocking her from Thorne's view and successfully saving her from being killed. I love seeing how protective Rick is of his lady.

3: Rv Hand Hold

So after their first kiss and first night together, they are tragically robbed of the chance to spend the morning together when Jesus lets himself into their home to speak to Rick. This world moves fast so they don't really get the time to breathe before Jesus and the rest of the group are on their way to Hilltop. Michonne sits bashfully in the passenger seat, wondering if last night meant as much to Rick as it did to her. And Rick notices this (because he always has eyes on her) and eases her mind by grabbing her hand. Of COURSE it meant as much to him as it did to you.

4: Michonne Saving Rick From Winslow

So I've talked about how much I love Rick being protective of Michonne but I also love when Michonne is protective of Rick. Okay so this moment happens when Rick and Michonne are trying to recruit those worthless useless garbage people to fight against the saviors. Their leader (who I'm not naming because fuck that bitch) wants to put Rick to the test like the dumbass she is. To test him, she decides to take him "up, up, up" which is code for "throw you in a hole you can't climb out of with no weapons while a spiked walker comes at you." Michonne, sensing this bullshit, nervously grabs Rick's hand to stop him. She goes to say something but Rick stops her and comforts her. He goes up there anyway and gives Michonne a reassuring nod once up there. The leader says some sort of bullshit to him, I don't know what because I zone out any time she speaks. Anyway she pushes him down the hole. Michonne screams at her "what did you do?!?!" before running to find Rick by looking through a hole. She yells his name and he looks around confusedly for a few seconds before figuring out where her voice is coming from. He lets her know he's okay. And then Winslow comes at him. Again he has no weapon so he frantically tries to climb out but to no avail. Michonne watching this through the hole yells directions to him. "The walls. USE them!" And he does! And it works! Michonne's plan works and she saves his life. It's just a fun example of how Michonne's guidance always helps Rick.

5: Unclenching His Fist

So after a very endearing family fun day for the Grimes family, it sadly gets cut short when Scott (or whatever his name is) delivers the news that some random ex savior (that really no one cares about) got killed by someone. This is bad news and Rick is visibly upset by this. Michonne notices this and reaches a hand out to him.

His hand is closed and she gently opens it.

She not only comforts him but let's him know this burden isn't only his. It's hers too. And that they will get through this together. Michonne has always been able to comfort Rick in a way no one else can and vice versa.

So in conclusion, these are just a few moments I really love and why I love them. Again I wanna say that every moment is my favorite richonne moment so this is definitely not a ranked list. I had to limit myself to just five because I could go on and on and on and on and on and on if you let me 😂 but if you wanna know more of my favorite moments I don't mind sharing them. Thanks for the ask! This was so fun to write.