#i know enough to string the general story together

[pumpkingeorge]

I only play Kingdom Hearts for the Disney shit ngl. I don't know what's going on with the anime characters and I'm far too afraid and disinterested to ask.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Melodic Rivalry ~ KNJ

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

GENRE: Enemies to lovers, implied sexual interaction, surprise pregnancy, hiding pregnancy trope, angst, soft ending [Didn't include smut as it's an anon and I don't know your age, so it's implied that they have sex xx]

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

You stared down at the magazine with a disgusted look on your face, a photo of you and Namjoon on the cover with giant smiles on your faces as you sat together but the shot wasn't real. The two of you could never sit still long enough for a photo to be taken so the magazine had to photoshop the two of you together to fit the story that they had written and published.

All about how you and Namjoon were the perfect team, both of you had undeniable talent and worked well together in the studio. Namjoon was a musician with the knack of composing soul-stringing melodies, his talent knew no bounds and his music had the oer to move even the most stoic of souls. You were a producer with an unparalleled ear for sound, with the ability to transform raw talent into polished masterpieces and despite working well together in the music industry that was where everything stopped.

The two of you were like oil and water - constantly at odds with each other. Your egos clashed, your opinions collided, and your tempers flared at the slightest provocation. Working together was fraught with tension, each session devolving into a battle of wills and creative differences but each time the music came out brilliantly. 

As you got to the studio door you pushed it open and found it dimly lit, the only light coming from a soft glow of a mixing console. Namjoon sat at his piano, his fingers dancing across the keys getting lost in whatever he was composing so you stood at the soundboard, your arms folded across your chest as you stared at him. He was supposed to be working on something more upbeat, not another love ballad he was no doubt writing.

"Oh, how touching. Another one of your generic love ballads, I presume?" You asked sarcastically, ignoring the glare that Namjoon shot your way, his jaw tight as he stared down at the keys.

"If you have something to say, Yn, say it. Otherwise, keep your critiques to yourself." He said through gritted teeth.

"Typical. Can't handle a little criticism, can you?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"Criticism? All you do is tear down everything I create! You have no respect for my talent!"

"Respect? Please. You're the one who waltzes in here with your inflated ego and expects everyone to bow down to you."

The tension in the room was thick with unresolved animosity but you stared at one another, your eyes twitching.

"For someone who claims to hate my music so much, you spend a lot of time listening to it." You stared at him, shaking your head and scoffing a little. Of course, you listened to it, you had to because it was your job.

"That's because it's my job, you arrogant prick!" You cried out, your anger way past your boiling point now but Namjoon just stood up and took a step closer to you, his gaze burning with intensity.

"Is that the only reason?" He asked softly, your breath caught in your throat, your resolve weakening with each passing moment.

"Of course not." You whispered, your voice barely coming out. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between you. And in that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet sanctuary of the studio.

Without a word, Namjoon closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. And then, in a rush of pent-up emotion, your lips met in a searing kiss—a collision of desire and frustration that sent shockwaves through you both.

For a moment, you were lost in each other, your bickering and resentment fading into the background as you surrendered to the undeniable chemistry that had always lingered between you.

But as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, leaving you breathless and uncertain. You stepped away from him, your fingertips gently touching your lips as you stared at him.

"We shouldn't have done that." Your voice trembled a little as you looked up at Namjoon, his eyes were blazing.

"Why not? We both know there's something between us." He stares down at you.

"This... this is madness. We can't stand each other." You whimpered, shaking your head at him, Namjoon stepped closer to you though, his voice dropping as he stared down at you,

"Maybe that's because we're so alike. Two stubborn souls fighting against the inevitable." You determined to hate him, to push him away from you crumbled, your walls tumbling down in the face of Namjoon's unwavering honesty.

"We can't even stand to look at one another." You mumbled at him, it was true. The two of you could barely go ten minutes without a fight breaking out. The kiss had been a one-off, the passion and sparks you'd felt were nothing more than a static shock or something.

"Stop fighting it, are you scared?" He smirked at you and you hated him for it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face,

"No," You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes as you tried to ignore the way your heart was thumping for him, the way your palms were sweating. 

"Everyone knows we should be together, we should just embrace it," Namjoon smirked, your eyes meeting as you bit down on your lip. You had your reservations, the two of you bickered like an old married couple and you weren't sure it was healthy.

"Stop overthinking it," He whined before your lips met once more, the tentative kiss turning quickly into a fiery passion neither of you could deny. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as finally that pent-up tension and longer erupted into a raw and unbridled kiss. 

"I've wanted to do that for so long." Namjoon rushed out, his voice husky as you worked on unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing,

"Me too." You breathed out, kissing him deeply as he carefully took you over to the sofa, both of your clothes being strewn around the room as the kiss between you heated up once again.

Ever since that night in the studio with Namjoon, you did everything within your power to avoid him, you started working from home, switching to another group to work with not being able to face him but today had been inevitable, you had to go into work because of a meeting with Hannah, your manager and also one of your best friends.

The two of you had shared one night of unbelievable passion but when you woke up the next morning he was gone, his clothes were gone and there was a note on his desk asking you to lock up when you were dressed. Since there you'd not even received a text asking how you were, or even a call and you hated him more for it.

I've wanted this for so long.

Had been such bullshit, something he was saying just so that he could get laid, anger bubbled inside of you until you snapped the pencil you were holding.

"You okay? You look unwell," Hannah said as she gently rubbed your back, you were feeling a little under the weather but you put it down to the fact that you were going to have to face Namjoon sometime soon.

"Just a little queasy, that's all." You said with a forced smile, trying to brush it off but Hannah narrowed her eyes at you and exchanged a look with John, one of your other work friends.

"You've been feeling off for a while now, maybe take some holiday days." He suggested with a furrowed brow. It wasn't like you to get sick which was a little concerning for all of them.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." You muttered weakly, slowly standing up from the desk as your stomach churned with anxiety and a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

"Yn?" Hannah called out but you sat back down in the chair, your bin between your legs as you threw up the contents of your stomach again.

"Here, drink this," John said as he slid you over a glass of water, Hannah was running to her desk and rummaging through it all.

"Hans? What are you looking for?" You mumbled, wiping your mouth with a tissue and staring at her as she walked back over to you.

She was the only person other than you and Namjoon that knew what happened in that studio 6 weeks ago and John frowned at the blue box.

"Take it," She told you plainly, John sent her a puzzled look with confusion written across his face.

"I...I can't...It'll make it all real," You'd had your suspicions that it was true but you figured if you ignored it long enough and denied it then it couldn't be real.

"Take it, we'll be here for you, no matter what," Hannah told you as John nodded, helping you stand up as they all walked you toward the women's toilets.

Those three minutes you were supposed to wait for the test felt like three hours, each second ticking by tortuously slowly as you, John and Hannah stared around the small office waiting for it to tell you the truth.

"Time," John said as his watch began to beep, your hand linked with Hannah's and you stared down at the pink stick, tears brimming inside of your eyes.

"I'm pregnant." Your voice trembled and instantly you were engulfed in a hug from your two favourite people.

"Work from home until we figure something out," Hannah told you, running her hands over your cheeks and wiping away the tears.

It had been almost five months since discovering you were pregnant and you'd done everything you could to hide it from Namjoon. If he had done everything to get you to leave him alone after your night together then you weren't going to tell him about the kid but the weight of hiding it was crushing you. 

You paced around your office, a mix of fear and uncertainty raging inside of you as you waited for John to hurry back with the next stack of assignments you needed to work through. 

"Everything is there, I'm sorry I promise next time I'll bring them to you. I'm just swamped." John said as he gave you a bag, you nodded quickly kissing his cheek and making a dart out of the door. You needed to get out of the building before anyone could spot you and the news got back to Namjoon.

Lost in your thoughts as you walked through the halls, you nearly collided with someone as you rounded a corner. You slowly looked up and whimpered finding Jungkook standing there,

"Hey! Sorry! Are you alright?" He frowned staring at you,

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed nervously but you just shook your head at him,

"I'm fine, just a bit...distracted." You said with a forced smile but Jungkook's browns knotted together as he slowly looked down at you, his eyes lingering on your swollen belly/

"Is everything okay? You look like you're about to pop.." He laughed softly and your heart raced, panic bubbling up inside of you as you struggled to come up with an explanation. Jungkook had seen you those seven months back coming out of Namjoon's studio with a freshly "fucked" look on your face.

"Yeah, everything's good. Just...tired, that's all." You said hesitantly, smiling weakly as he stared down at you.

"It's his...right?" He waited for you to say something but you didn't even want to admit it to yourself, admitting it to Namjoon's bandmember was going to be damn near impossible,

"Jungkook." You pleaded, shaking your head at him as if asking him to stop all of this.

"Yn, is it his?" You stared at him, your stomach churning with anxiety as you tried to think of something to say but your mind was racing at a million words a second. 

"Please, Jungkook, you can't tell Namjoon. He can't know about the baby." Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at you. Everyone knew how badly Namjoon wanted to be a father and hiding something like this from him would no doubt kill him.

"Why didn't you tell him? He has a right to know." He didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, he knew you were pregnant and in a delicate place right now but Namjoon deserved to know he was going to have a kid.

"He lost that right when he made it clear that night meant nothing to him like he claimed it did." You grumbled, pulling your coat over to cover your bump to make sure no one else was likely to see you.

"Yn," Jungkook said slowly but you held your hand up,

"Don't make excuses for him Jungkook. He fucking used me." Your voice trembled as tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of everything finally causing you to crack.

"You can't hide this from him forever. He has a right to know."

"Just let me figure things out first." You mumbled, begging him as he stared down at you.

"Fine." He stared at you as you nodded, slowly walking away from him as you felt an impending doom hanging over you, threatening to shatter everything you'd built to protect yourself. 

After you left Jungkook stood outside of Namjoon's studio, his heart heavy with the weight of the truth he was about to reveal. As much as he wanted to keep your secret he didn't want to do that to his friend and he knew there was more to the story than Namjoon ignoring you after a night together. 

"Joonie, we need to talk." He said as he walked into the studio, Namjoon frowned at him but nodded for the youngest member to sit down.

"What's up?" He asked him slowly as Jungkook's throat tightened, his head muddled trying to find the right way to say it.

"It's about Yn." Namjoon's hand on his pen tightened,

"What about her?" He asked, animosity laced in his voice as he thought about you.

"She wanted to come crawling back to us? I don't want her working with us anymore." He grumbled out, Jungkook eyed him up as he stared at him wondering what had gone so terribly wrong between the two of you.

"She's not welcome here anymore."

"Why?" There was going to be no more dancing around the topic and not mentioning your name as if you were Voldemort.

"She knows what she did wrong." He hissed making Jungkook frown. It seemed the two of you believed the other was in the wrong.

"What did she do, Hyung?"

"She slept with me when she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home." Jungkook knew you were single, you'd devoted every single second of your life to music.

"Boyfriend? Noona doesn't have a boyfriend." 

"So who was John? He was texting her all night, asking where she was and when she was going to go back to him because he was waiting for her back home." None of that made sense,

"John is one of her co-workers, he works with TXT," Jungkook told him before realisation began to register with Namjoon who the man had been.

"So...W...What did you want to talk to me about?" Jungkook sighed a little.

"She's pregnant, Namjoon. Seven months along." Namjoon's world came to a crashing halt as he stared at him, his mind reeling in disbelief and confusion.

"How?" He asked shocked, Jungkook hesitated, his gaze filled with sympathy as he watched everything hit Namjoon.

"You know how." He said softly but Namjoon just stared at the floor. The truth hits him like a ton of bricks, everything falls into place. Your sudden avoidance, working from home and refusing to be their producer anymore. It was all making sense now.

"She's carrying my child," He whispered as Jungkook sighed a little.

"She asked me not to tell you but you needed to know," Namjoon nodded at him, barely acknowledging him as he slowly got up and made his way out of the studio.

Before he knew what was happening Namjoon was outside your place and knocking on the door. He knew it was going to be hard to talk to you about all of this since so much time had passed but it was time to face the truth.

"We have to talk." Namjoon said as soon as you opened the door to him, your chest aching with seeing him standing there. You knew Jungkook wouldn't have been able to keep his mouth shut so you'd been preparing for him.

"What about?" You stared at him as he took in a deep breath,

"About the baby," His eyes were filled with something you'd never seen from him before, he looked so vulnerable. 

"What about the baby?" You asked, stepping to the side and letting him into your apartment. 

"I want to be a part of their life, Yn. I want to be there for them, to watch them grow up, to be their father." Your breath caught in your throat at his words,

"Why? You practically kicked me out the night after we had sex so why all of a sudden do you care?"

"I thought you had a boyfriend! Okay? I saw a text from John and I thought-"

"That I was whoring myself out to everyone so you just decided to give me the cold shoulder?" You snapped angrily at him, you couldn't believe he would do something like this.

"You're the one hiding my child from me!" He grumbled at you and you sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

"This is why we can't do it together. We fight all the time, we just scream at each other." You mumbled, sitting down on the sofa and feeling completely defeated. 

"Yn."

"Can you look at me and tell me that when this baby comes it'll work out between us?" You didn't want to keep his kid from him but you also were scared of everything that was coming,

"No."

"So-"

"But I love you, okay? Fuck, I've loved you for so long and I just never show it right." You stared at him in complete shock.

"I love you and I love our baby. I may not have been ready to admit it before, but now...now I can't imagine life without you."

"But-" You barely had a chance to object before Namjoon continued.

"The last seven months without getting to see you have been torture. I miss the jabs you used to say, I miss seeing you...Please."

"We've both made mistakes, Yn. But that doesn't mean we can't try and make things right. For the sake of our child, and for the sake of our love." Tears built inside of your eyes as you struggled to process everything.

"I want to believe you, I do...but...But I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt, scared of losing you again." You finally admit, your tears free falling as you finally let yourself admit you loved him back, that you were hopelessly in love with him.

"I won't let that happen, Yn, I promise you. Just give me a chance to prove it to you and show you how much you mean to me."

"I love you too," You whispered to him, your heart racing as he smiled down at you.

"We can try." You told him as he hugged you close to him,

"Tell me everything I've missed? D-Do you have photos?" You nodded at him, slowly taking him through to your bedroom to get the album you'd already started making of your ultrasounds.

A soft glow filled the cosy living room as you and Namjoon sat together on the couch, your laughter mingling with the sound of your son's joyful giggles. It had been a year since that fateful night when Namjoon had shown up on your doorstep, and in that time, your lives had changed in ways you could have never imagined.

Your son toddled around the room with boundless energy, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement as he chased after his favourite toy. Namjoon watched him with a smile, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of his little boy.

"Look at him go, babe. He's getting so big." He said with a giant grin on his face, you smiled as you stared at him, your eyes shining with love as she reached out to ruffle his hair.

"He's growing up so fast. I can't believe he's already a year old." You whined, you hated that it was going too quickly. You wanted him to stay young forever. 

"I'm so grateful for you, Yn. For him. For everything." Namjoon said as he kissed your head softly. Your heart swelled with emotion at his words, your eyes shining with unshed tears as you reached out to take his hand in yours.

"And I'm grateful for you, Namjoon. For giving us a second chance, for never giving up on us." Your voice shook a little and he kissed you softly.

In that moment, as you sat together in the warmth of your shared love, you knew that they had found something truly special—a love that had weathered the storms of doubt and uncertainty, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

[gonzo-rella]

Together in the Shadows | Eloise Bridgerton

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

NOTE: I prefer to write the reader as gender neutral, but as Bridgerton is set in a very gendered time, that poses a challenge. The reader in this is implied to be, societally, a woman; they are alone with Eloise without worrying about scandal, so this implies that the reader is perceived as a woman. However, I've deliberately been as vague as possible about the reader character to make them as close to gender neutral as possible and haven't explicitly referred to them as being a woman so that some nonbinary and trans folks like myself can feel comfortable reading this fic.

Relationship(s): Eloise Bridgerton x fem-coded/possibly gn!reader (romantic)

Summary: Your sister's last-minute ball is disastrous, but at least it allows you to spend some time alone with Eloise.

Warnings: Nothing beyond kissing. (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 0.8k

(A/N: I'm so in love with Eloise Bridgerton. I want to be in a secret situationship with her, so here's my attempt at exploring that. Also, I haven't actually written a lot of fics that include kissing, so I'm glad I got some practise in writing something I normally don't write. A lot of my original projects are romcoms (including a Regency-inspired duology and a zombie apocalypse story) so it'd help me out a great deal if you let me know what you think of how I did writing the romance in this!)

“Is it not a bit chilly to be out here, Miss Bridgerton?” A grin tugged at Eloise’s lips. She stopped dead in her tracks and peered over her shoulder, not quite looking at you. For a moment, she listened to your footsteps as you paced towards her, though the rustling of grass under your shoes was barely audible over the piercing noise of the string quartet that carried itself through the windows and doors. She scrunched up her nose at the unfortunate sound.

“Perhaps. But, I am afraid I may spiral into a state of madness should I stand in that room for a second longer. I can, however, withstand this cold and my mama’s scolding of me for my absence.”

You wore a mocking frown as you finally reached her side. You were both illuminated by the golden light that shone through the windows and the pale glow of the moon. She turned her head to look at you. For a moment, you forgot to breathe. She was naturally beautiful, but seeing her in this lighting… she looked ethereal. It took you a moment to compose yourself enough to form coherent thought and speech. You weren’t sure that she had noticed the momentary falter.

“In my dear sister’s defence, she poured her whole soul into planning this spectacular event this afternoon.”

Eloise snorted.

“It certainly is a spectacle. I shudder to think what Lady Whistledown will write about it.”

You chuckled and linked arms with her. Briefly averting your gaze, you looked through the window at the attendees who were pretending to enjoy themselves or whispering to each other, presumably uttering some cruel things about this awful ball. Meanwhile, Eloise’s eyes flickered down to where the pair of you made contact, then back up to your face. The skin of your arm brushed against hers, and the gentle friction generated a light tingling sensation that flooded her whole body. She almost couldn’t keep herself upright, and she tightened her grip on your arm to steady herself. Despite the cold night air, her cheeks burned. With her free hand, she reached up to feel the warming flesh of her face. Heat seeped through the fabric of her gloves to her fingertips. The second you returned your attention to her, she quickly lowered her arm, embarrassed.

“However scathing it may be, I assure you that my sister will be delighted to have even been acknowledged,” you said. You paused before continuing. “Given how dreadful everything is in there, I shouldn’t think our absence will be noticed. Would you like to wander the grounds so we do not freeze to death?”

A breathy laugh escaped her lips. 

“Of course. Might we wander far enough that we can escape that cacophony? Somewhere that will afford us some… privacy, perhaps?”

You grinned back at her.

“Certainly, Miss Bridgerton. I know the perfect place for us to enjoy one another’s company.”

Stealing a final glance behind you, you led her to a secluded part of the vast garden, where you would both be hidden by grand hedges. You let go of her arm and turned to face her.

“Is this to your liking?”

A smirk tugged at her lips.

“Anywhere that you are is to my liking.”

“That is so very sweet, I can almost forgive how nauseatingly trite it is.”

She rested her hand on her chest in mock-offence.

“Oh, how you wound me.”

Of course, she can’t have been that wounded, given her grin.

“Would you feel better if I offered you a kiss?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

“And, that is not trite?”

You shrugged innocently, unable to suppress a smile.

“I could not think of a more creative way to ask if I could kiss you. I know how you value originality.”

Without hesitation, Eloise placed her hands on your cheeks, and brought your face close to hers. Her breath fanned your skin. Through half-lidded eyes, you watched her gaze flicker to your lips.

“Being direct would have done,” she muttered. “After all, I have been waiting all night for this.”

“Then, why wait a second longer?”

Eloise let out a low chuckle, then closed the gap between you entirely. The kiss was gentle at first, but within seconds her hunger for you became clear. One hand moved to the back of your head to bring you in closer. The other remained planted firmly on the side of your face, her gloved thumb grazing your cheekbone. The motion was so light that you gasped quietly into the kiss, to Eloise’s delight. Her lips moved against yours with fervour, as though she was determined to take in and savour as much of your taste as possible. You rested your palms on her shoulders, and as your hand drifted up her neck you could feel her racing pulse. Then, your fingers became entangled in her hair. You tugged on it softly, and a quiet hum escaped her lips.

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but she only managed to get her face an inch away from yours. She laughed quietly, while you couldn’t help but grin.

“Was that to your liking, Miss Bridgerton?”

“You are always to my liking.”

[impactedfates]

Hello. I'm sorry if this is sudden but I was wondering if you took story requests and if you do, could you make a platonic Dan heng IL story with the reader being the child of his previous incarnation Dan feng, the reader is great at telling stories and they would use the power they inherited from their mother to change the shape of pieces of paper into different people and monsters. (I was pretty inspired by the movie Kubo and the two strings) Jing Yuan is the one to tell Dan Heng about the reader even though he doesn't know them very well, but Jing Yuan felt like Dan Heng had the right to know about the reader especially after the reader had an encounter with Blade. (If this is too much that's completely understandable and I wish you a good day/afternoon and or night😊)

A/N - These 2 requests are kinda similar in a way. So I thought to mix them together in the one fic!! I hope that's alright to the two anons who requested (づ ◕‿◕ )づ This isn't my best work, love-hate relationship with it, leaning more towards hate but I hope youse enjoy this anyways (hopefully lol)

W.C: 1149

Warnings: Wrongful imprisonment, reader was forced to stop aging with a potion, hints at abuse/torture but not said.

Extra: Reader is a child and there for shorter then most characters, Reader has horns and a tail (Vidyadhara)

“Dan Heng, there you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere”

Dan Heng looked up from the book he was reading and stared at the white haired male.

“General?”

“Please, we’re far past formalities. In any case, there’s someone I think you should meet”

The raven haired male closed his book before it away and stood up, raising a small eyebrow at the General, crossing his arms, he spoke, inquiring more about what he meant.

“Who? I don’t think I was invited to anything”

“Your kid…well more specifically Dan Feng's kid”

Dan Hengs eyes widen just the slightest fraction, slightly taken aback by the information, but he agrees to go meet the child of his previous incarnation.

Jing Yuan offers to walk with him to where they were staying, while also providing information about them to make the “reunion” a bit more bearable in a way. Their name is [Name], although not technically biologically his, they did have his genes, Dan Heng wasn’t gonna question that.

[Name] was stuck in the Shackling Prisons for a while now. Ever since Dan Feng had been banished from the Loufu, some cloud knights thought it wasn’t enough and decided to imprison his kid as well, it wasn’t until Dan Heng came back and got the banishment lifted that they came clean.

Dan Hengs eyes grow concerned, looking at Jing Yuan.

“And the cloud knights?”

“Punished, they didn’t get any permission to send anyone to the prison. I released [Name] already, so all there is left is for you to meet them…don’t feel pressured to take them in as your kid though…I know you don’t wanna be tied to your past incarnation”

Dan Heng nodded a bit slowly, continuing to follow Jing Yuan by his side as the two continued walking. It wasn’t a long walk but Dan Heng still thought hard about what he’d do.

Eventually the sounds of kids clapping and cheering reached his ears, he looked up and caught sight of a shorter Vidyadhara talking to some of the younger Foxians. Their hands folded some paper, creating a paper crane before they clasped it fully around their hand, and out came an actual bird.

“And the bird flew away to meet with their family! Then they lived happily ever after”

The Vidyadhara chirped with a smile as the kids around them clapped, urging them to tell another one. Another story.

“[Name]! There you are, I brought over your fath- I mean…your fathers reincarnation”

The small Vidyadhara turns their head and looks curiously at the General before their eyes landed on Dan Heng. Their eyes widened a bit before they slowly walked over. And koala hugged his leg. Dan Heng was taken aback by this action but did not push the kid off, instead slowly leaning down and patting their head awkwardly. He was frozen in place due to the sudden hug.

Jing Yuan chuckled at the sight, before turning to leave.

“I’ll leave youse two it then, if you need help. You know where to find me”

“Papa?”

Before Dan Heng could even reply, the kid spoke one word that made him freeze a bit more. He never did like when people connected him to his past. Always telling people he wasn’t ‘Dan Feng’

“I’m not him…sorry…I’m Dan Heng”

“Papa!”

The kid pouted at him, eyes looking at him with puppy eyes, Dan Heng averted his gaze and tried to change the subject.

“Let’s…explore the Loufu together”

.

.

.

“Papa look! It’s a dragon plushie, can I have it please”

[Name] begged their father, looking up at him as they tugged his shirt.

“Again…not your papa but…sure, any particular reason why you want it?”

“I want to be able to cuddle you at night if you’re not there”

Dan Hengs eyes widened a bit as he looked away with an embarrassed blush. He wasn’t even in his Vidyadhara form but then again, the kid seemed to adamantly believe that he was their father.

Still, without a second thought he took out his wallet.

.

.

.

“Bellybog?”

“Belobog, like bell-o-bog”

Dan Heng speaks, guilding [Name] on how to pronounce the place. He didn’t know how it happened, but one minute he brought the kid on the express, the next March insisted they bring them to Belobog to see the snow.

“They’ve been stuck in that yucky prison for who knows how long, they gotta see the snow…oh! And build a snowman, we should have a snowball fight as well and-”

March proceeded to talk about the possible games and things they could do once they landed. So here he was helping [Name] with building a snowman.

“We should give it horns!”

“Horns?”

“Like you Papa”

He stiffened a bit at being called ‘Papa’ once more, sighing out. He takes two sticks and sticks them on the snowman's head to resemble horns.

“I’m not Dan Feng”

.

.

.

“Sooo, you have a kid now?”

Came a teasing voice, Dan Heng sighed and turned his head to Himeko who was helping to feed the kid some new things. Pom Pom wanted to see what the kid would like to eat, so Himeko was helping.

“Not mine…”

“But they see you as their father, you don’t see them as your kid?”

Dan Heng was quick to shush Himeko as the shorter Vidydhara looked curiously up at the two. He thanked the aeons they were still learning a few things due to the isolation, though…he did feel bad about it still.

Himeko could only laugh softly…until a crash was heard on the other side of the train. She muttered under her breath, something about March and the Trailblazer being irresponsible and prone to cause accidents, yet a smile was still painted on her face.

“Here Dan Heng, little [Name] here just needs to try one more things, you feed it to them”

She said, gently pushing the chair the child was sitting on to Dan Heng, he made no objections, simply sighed and fed the kid.

“Papa?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, I’m happy you’re back”

Dan Heng froze his movements at his kids' words, which in fact gave the kid some time to climb onto his lap and cuddle themselves in it, wrapping their tail around their body. They slowly fell to sleep with a smile on their face.

Dan Heng took a bit to process everything but sighed, carefully standing up and bringing the kid to his room so they could have a better sleep.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Dan Heng, you left your-”

The red haired woman's voice died down as she saw the scene in front of her, with a knowing smile, she slowly closed the door and walked away, shushing the other passengers.

What lay in the archives was a small Vidydhara resting with their eyes closed, sleeping peacefully. Their bed? A taller Vidyadhara with his arms around the kid, cradling the kid as his tail rested around him as well.

OEDNIOFBS, the more I read this the more I hate it help :sob:

For anyone who has requested before this post, apologies for taking so long but I'll be working on it soon don't worry!!

[moncharrow]

hii!! i saw you were taking requests so can u write an knight!ellie x princess!reader period piece?

it was never meant to be

a/n: thank you for the cool request! i don't know how i feel about this- never wrote for this time period before. it was a fun learning curve!! i hope you enjoy it. requests are open <3 please. please. tell me. smut or fluff or angst idc

-content/warnings: 1.8k words, fem!princess!reader x knight!ellie, arranged marriage/political marriage, mentions of reader having to marry a man, slight angst? happy ending though, feminine reader i suppose

You were a goddess amongst mortals, treading the Earth lightly and gracing the barren ground with flowering spring beauty. There was an elegance to your touch. Anyone blessed enough to know you were changed for the better, your kindness and charity caressing their soul like hundreds of dandelion wisps in the wind. Heads turned when you walked down the pathways, villagers hoping to get a glimpse of their beloved princess, to catch her stray gaze as she passed. You were the kind of person who would never be subject to malice; even if someone wished they could despise you, the love behind your eyes would soothe their violent minds. Your soul seemed to be sculpted by the hand of a creator who endowed you with pure goodness.

Ellie’s skin was etched with years' worth of hardship, mental fortitude carved into her perpetually crinkled brow. Dirt caked her bloodstream, poisoning her soul as it moved through her heart. Behind her eyes was no mercy, no forgiveness, only seeking vengeance on some imaginary being that had seen no value in her from the moment of creation. It seems the same deity that sculpted you had been corrupted as it created her, molding her heart of ashes and skin of rotten wood. She was a decades-old shattered, rusty sword thrown into a river. No value. No hope. Only a broken promise of a better future that had been forgotten.

​​But your merciful, generous sight had befallen her by some stroke of luck. You recognized something good within her and gave her the chance she'd always dreamt about. You sponsored her induction into knight training, looking past her fiery faults and into the essence of her spirit, finding a spark of virtue. You tended to it until the ember became a blaze, and Ellie Williams became a force to be reckoned with. Despite the whispers of naysayers around the castle, there was something honorable and just inside her. There would never be enough words in the English language for Ellie to express her gratefulness to you properly. Even if there were, she couldn't string them together- she was never skilled with words. Instead, her every step carried a purpose: to echo your goodness through her actions.

Every so often, she'd find a quiet moment and reminisce upon the years of hardship she'd endured in training. Initially, she'd been one of the weakest pupils, lanky and malnourished but with a lust for improvement. She would cry herself to sleep the first year, and every night, she'd sneak out to see the dear princess, who would hold her and assure her that she belonged. It took time, but Ellie began to believe her. She sought comfort from you night after night, conversation topics turning personal after Ellie’s mental health had begun to improve. You’d talk about nothing and everything: silly hypotheticals, stories of growing up. The juxtaposition between your upbringing and hers was comical, but you both found comfort in learning about each others’ lives. 

When Ellie was with you, she felt like her social status didn’t matter. She was just a girl, and you were just the girl she was in love with. The class difference didn’t matter and neither did the impossibility of being together. Just two girls in love, neither with the courage to admit it. 

The lingering touches turn into shy smiles as Ellie sits in your room. Ornate tapestries adorn the walls and silk kerchiefs cast you in warm golden light- you look like a sun goddess in a long linen dress, your well-manicured hand coming to rest on Ellie’s knee as you laugh at something she said. Her rude humor was a welcome change to the sterility of castle life. You grew tired of the roles forced upon you by your authoritative parents and court, and vastly preferred Ellie’s brash personality. Your parents would have a collective aneurysm if they knew you were mingling with the ‘peasant knight’ (their words, obviously), so the two of you were reduced to sneaking around. 

Ellie’s smile dropped a bit as she felt your touch through her trousers. Her head felt dizzy and she attempted to compose herself, finding it hard to focus when your touch was so delicate and warm. Your call of her name was like a siren song, impossible to ignore its dulcet velvety tones. “Ellie?”

“Yes, Princess?”

You scoff. “Stop with the title. You know I hate it.”

Ellie smiles. A selfish thought crosses her mind- she wishes you were born normal, born in the village like her instead of in an ivory tower. Maybe then, things could have worked out. “That’s why I use it.” You laugh again, and she feels her stomach turn. Why couldn’t you be like me?

-

A week later, Ellie’s thoughts are the opposite. You sit in the throne room, grandiose decor embellishing the great chamber. Lavish royal purple flags and bright maroon banners drop and fold along the walls. Opulent chandeliers of pure wrought iron hang from the ceiling, supporting crystal fixtures through which valuable beeswax candles bathe the room in light. Stained glass rose windows and fleur de lys seem to further isolate Ellie, who stands guard by your throne. Invasive thoughts plague her as she keeps her professional face. I don’t belong here. I never have. I wish I was like you- then I could take you away from here. The thoughts are heightened when she sees the reason the entire town is gathered under the concave.

Four suitors from across the land vie for your hand in marriage. Ellie bites her tongue, her taste buds flooding with a familiar metallic sting. 

They don’t really want you, not like I do. All they want is power. They don’t treasure your time or your kindness. You deserve more. 

She clutches her spear, posture erect, seeming the quintessential knight. Only you noticed how her hand shook with nerves, how she seemed to hold onto the weapon as if letting go would kill her.

Each suitor takes time to introduce themselves. They focus on their own qualities, never talking about why they would be honored to be with you. And they would be. You sit on your throne, deep purple taffeta draping your body elegantly as you cross your legs. Aphroditic, a Hellenistic Roman statue come alive. Romantic, expressive, nymphlike in every way. If you were Euydice, Ellie thinks she must’ve been Orpheus. The anticipation of witnessing you choose your husband (and thus leaving her) was beginning to affect Ellie physically. Her heart felt like it would die in her chest: she swore she felt an arrhythmia. 

First, the suitor from the East describes what he would gift you if wed. As if you would be swayed by material possessions. The suitor from the South notes his conquests. The changes in your expression are minute, but Ellie knows the look. You’re entirely disgusted, and she clears her throat to catch your attention. You look over, the unimpressed look still donning your face, but your eyes light up when you see her. Ellie smiles- a silent reminder: I’m still here for you. It’s like you’re the only two people in the room.

The Western suitor wears his pants inside out, and your eyes immediately meet Ellie’s. You cover your mouth with your hand, appearing classy while chuckling and snorting behind your cover. 

The Northern suitor is handsome and decent, Ellie reluctantly admits. She’s not blind. She hates that she doesn’t hate him. He expresses interest in you and vows to give you autonomy. It’s basic, but more than the others offered. She tries to read your expression and for once, she can’t. It makes her heart drop. 

After every suitor is introduced, you and your court go into the back room to discuss your final decision. The decision that, whomever you choose, will ruin Ellie. She stands guard before the door, straining her hearing to find some clue that you won’t marry these men. She begs silently to whatever immortal being watches over her. 

You haven’t done much for me. I haven’t asked for much. But I’ll do anything to stop this. Please. 

A knock at the door signals Ellie to move away. She takes your hand and leads you back to the throne. You sit, and Ellie has to will herself to let go of you. What if this is the last time she’ll be able to hold you? The thought nearly brings her to her knees. Her joints ache with every step she takes away from you, returning to her post in front of the chancel. Your father stands, his creaking bones the only sound in the room. Everyone holds their breath as he speaks.

It’s detached apolitical jargon that Ellie can barely pay attention to. She thinks that if she doesn’t listen, the situation won’t become real. To her dismay, your father ends his aloof speech and presents you. Sir Williams has never felt so sober.

Ellie watches with wide eyes as you stand. She peers up at you from below the stage, and she can’t help but realize what a perfect metaphor this is. You stand above her, gilded and unobtainable, while she looks up, dreaming of what could’ve been. Of course, she’ll support any decision you make, but she’ll never be happy with it. It seems time moves gruelingly slowly as she awaits your voice. At any other moment, she’d be hanging off your every word, waiting excitedly for what you have to share next. But now, she hopes the words never come.

You open your mouth, words leaving in slow motion. She wants to close your mouth to shut you up and kiss you so hard that you never think about anyone else again. She doesn’t.

“Dearest suitors, I thank you for coming here today. Your travels are long and treacherous and your efforts do not go unnoticed. As noted by my father, I have come to a decision regarding my spouse. I am firm in my choice, as this is the most chivalrous, goodhearted, and impressive person I have met. The only person who understands me.”

Ellie is used to you switching from your formal persona to your true self, but she never gets over it. It’s you, but it’s not you. You stroll along the chancel, in thought, and Ellie takes the chance to admire everything about you as if this is the last time she’ll be able to. Posture, gait, the way you hold yourself as if you’re sure about every action. She doesn’t know you’re terrified beyond belief.

Your finger comes out to point to a suitor. The great hall inhabitants draw a collective breath, Ellie included. You drag your finger from the right side of the stage, passing over the suitors of the East, South, and West. Ellie knows where this is going. Of course, you’ll choose North. He was the obvious choice, and she couldn’t fault you for that. And suddenly, your finger passes by him.

Ellie’s mind races. What’s happening?

Your body turns, and soon, Ellie stares down your hand, furrowing her brow. Her eyes are filled with childlike hope.

“Ellie Williams, if you’ll have me?”

[amerricanartwork]

Quetzalli on Trafficlights and Birds

Well @toxictoxicities, it has been done! You gave me the chance for me to give my own interpretation on this matter, and I can’t resist chances to add some narrative significance! I decided to make a separate post on it because what I came up with ended up being long (as always with me), and in case anyone else would enjoy these thoughts.

However before I go in with this essay I've put together I have to give a very important note: These thoughts are gonna be primarily based around my personal interpretations and headcanons for Seven Red Suns and No Significant Harassment. I’m generally a person who needs to know exactly what I’m working with to do something well, and as such my ideas about metaphors, symbolism, and greater narrative significance typically depend a lot on me understanding the characters and ship not just in their general dynamic, but various other deeper elements — what their core desires/fears are, what their backstories/histories are, each of their main character traits and why they are that way, then from there what they see in each other and why their relationship benefits each other in-universe, and what other effect(s) the relationship has or could have on the characters in-universe as well as the greater narrative out-of-universe, with the additional optional knowledge of what the main plot of the story they come from is to possibly tie in important moments. Seeing as you probably aren’t going to explain your Trafficlights interpretation completely to this intense of a degree anytime soon (though I’d absolutely enjoy hearing it whenever it comes!), if I’m going to make some metaphors I think the best option is to just use my current character interpretations so I have this background familiarity, especially since I’ve actually been developing these things a whole lot for my own iterator off-the-string happy ending AU!

Also, I want to say to that if some of these idea sound familiar, it’s because I realized I can actually project some of my previous Lilypad ideas onto this Trafficlights portrayal as well. I feel my Suns and Moon are similar enough in their personality traits that many of the same dynamics and significance could reasonably apply. In fact Tox, I’m gonna admit I actually did take some inspiration for my Lilypad portrayal from seeing your particular Trafficlights and drawing my own conclusions about how that dynamic worked, and overall my depiction of Seven Red Suns is largely inspired by your own take on that character, which I found quite unique compared to the rest of the fandom for being the first one I saw to show Suns as being far less imposing and confident internally than they seem in public. So I guess I am once again coming full circle now!

I think this is already more than enough words, but I just felt the need to give those prefaces as context for all of these ideas. With that being said, I hope you like at least some of these!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Option 1: Birds as Freedom

From what I’ve read, a common symbolism for birds is freedom, which to me is easy to see because of their signature flight ability. Flight can be considered the mode of travel with the greatest freedom because it’s not restricted by landmasses (or even planets, if you include space travel), and because flying is literally defying, or “freeing oneself” from gravity, one can easily associate it with weightlessness and thus being carefree and without worries or negativity.

With any off-the-string iterator story, it’s easy to give going off-the-string a positive significance because it’s literally the puppet “freeing itself” from the limited confines of their chamber, and by extent the limits imposed upon them by the Ancients. This is further supported by how some iterators in canon do appear to perceive their cans as a limitation or cage, as evidenced by the broadcast dialogue. In fact, I've heard No Significant Harassment is one of these very iterators, so I imagine he’d absolutely want to go off-the-string so long as he has a good incentive to. 

To relate this back to birds, you could very much use a caged songbird as a metaphor for the iterators; beautiful, brightly-colored creatures “raised” in captivity and trapped in boxes to serve other people, once “singing” out their ideas from within to those people, but now just giving those “songs” to each other. Thus, going off-the-string (perhaps to the Emergence facility in your AU) could be seen as these “birds” finally flying free to be with one another “in the wild”, finally able to fly and live their lives more fully as they were denied for so long. So regardless of any other symbolism, Trafficlights — and any other off-the-string iterator ship by extent — leaving their cans could be seen as them “flying free” together from the restraints forced upon them.

However, I’ve also recently realized another freedom symbolism besides freedom from the Ancients’ restrictions, and that’s freedom from their own. This is something more impactful to my Seven Red Suns, who like Moon, is also someone who hides a lot of his true personality for a more polite, proper, and dignified public persona, shoulders a lot of weight he isn’t always able to handle alone, and puts lots of limits on himself and what he’s “allowed” or “supposed” to do, albeit for entirely different reasons. Now contrast that with Sig, who although he also hides a lot of his true feelings and knows when to dial it down, is someone who is a master at breaking rules and going against convention. In fact, I like to imagine it’s literally in his nature (er, programming) to think outside the box, generating all sorts of different ideas to solve problems that don’t always totally follow outside rules or what’s “typical” for using a certain item. 

When you bring these two together, I imagine Sig could absolutely be the one to encourage Suns to let loose more, letting down his proper and and uptight persona to show more of his emotional side and explore things he didn’t allow himself to before (like I said, this is one of the ideas that works with Trafficlights as well as Lilypad)! It’s as if Suns is a bird too used to living in the cage and afraid to truly fly again, and Sig has to coax him out into embracing that freedom. You could even take this with the idea of iterators not being used to romance, a restriction Suns absolutely puts on himself and even others because he believes a “proper” iterator isn’t supposed to have such deep attachments, of which romantic love could be considered the worst because it’s both breaking Karma 3 of Companionship and can directly lead to Karma 2 of Sexual Intercourse, so it’s essentially a double-risk. But again, Sig is willing to explore these new feelings, and now that they’re off the string and can love each other more physically and directly than ever, what better time could there be for Suns to “spread his wings” and fly alongside him?

Option 2: Birds as Passion/Romance

To me, the second biggest symbolism that birds can have is that of passion and general romantic ideas. Technically all birds could have this association because feathers and wings in general are pretty showy, so spreading one’s wings could just as easily be a gesture of great emotion and expression as it could be preparing to be free. In addition though, whereas the previous point was more related to songbirds, this seems to correlate more with birds of paradise especially, who have the most colorful and varied plumage of the bird kingdom, thus making it easy to say they’re “showing their true colors” without fear. Some birds of paradise, particularly parrots/parakeets/macaws/etc. are very social creatures by nature, so it’s even easier to draw the connection between their vibrant plumage and social behavior with being expressive and outgoing.

As for the romance element, to me it seems birds are commonly used as such symbols already; there’s doves and swans being symbols of love often included in some way at weddings, words like “lovebirds” referring to lovers as well as one of my favorite words, “twitterpated”, which means to be very smitten and infatuated and also has a clear bird-based association and maybe even origin. But then there’s the idea of songbirds singing to each other, which I think is a particularly romantic idea which plays into one of my favorite shipping tropes I call, “answering the call”. So far, I like to describe it as when someone is looking for companionship and romance for a while, either openly or as a subconscious desire, but is eventually found and “answered” by someone willing to love with them. It’s such a romantic idea to me because it often includes so much loneliness and sometimes even tragedy before, making that moment where they finally find someone all the more sweet!

Okay, now to bring this back to Trafficlights. Starting with the first idea, I think it’s easy to associate Sig with these kinds of birds, especially macaws and such, seeing as I imagine he can be just as “colorful” both literally and personality-wise, and cares deeply about his relationships in a similar manner. But even then, like I mentioned before Sig can sometimes feel like he needs to hide those feelings because others don’t fully understand him and he doesn’t want to risk creating tension (although hiding his feelings like that kinda does anyway). 

To resolve this, I’ve decided to use what I imagine Sig would appreciate and value in Suns that would evolve the relationship past friendship to romance, that being that Suns was one of the first people besides Moon who believed that Sig’s ideas and his dedication to his friends could be something more, something better and used for good. My Suns is defined largely by his perfectionism and endless drive to make things the “best” versions of themselves. In my timeline of events he already helped Sig in that way during a pretty important moment, not to mention it’s just really inspiring how much Suns cares about trying to bring about the “best” for everyone. On Sig’s end, this is how they at least developed a friendship, and in this alternative what would cause that appreciation to evolve to romance eventually. In fact, in my headcanon it was the combined efforts of Moon first understanding Sig’s feelings and Suns helping to perfect his role in his group, with both of them working really hard to help him find new belonging with the Local Group, that was what got Sig out of his “rough patch”. Thus, in a way, Suns directly helped Sig make new connections, “spread his wings”, and “find a new flock”, which can easily be the main reason why Sig would fall for Suns.

Now, what about Suns? Relating him to birds and passion also hinges largely on another pretty crucial headcanon about my Seven Red Suns, which is that he is secretly a huge romantic with a passion for the fine arts. In addition to striving for an “ideal” world at all times, he appreciates art and the deeper symbolism within. However, because of what I said earlier about Suns placing a lot of high standards on himself, he doesn’t actually make art of his own, believing it’s “not an iterator’s place” to do such a thing themselves because it’s not in their purpose. But even then, he can’t help himself from seeing things artistically and drawing his own conclusions about things.

That being said, I imagine Suns could have a strong appreciation for birds in particular; their beauty, combined with their flight, makes them seem as though they’ve already “ascended” on some level above other animals. On top of that, I think Suns would come to see Sig as sort of a bird himself! Maybe a big green macaw with the most beautiful plumes who’s also far more intelligent than others think. But even more so, when it comes to what Suns appreciates in Sig that causes him to fall in love, I imagine it’s how Sig is the only person who sees through his facade for who he really is. Everyone else around him seems to either put him on a pedestal, with their own high expectations to follow, or is intimidated by his grandeur into avoiding much direct contact. Again, however, Sig naturally thinks outside the box and challenging people’s ideas, so it’d be pretty easy for him to break down some of Suns’s diplomacy to show that more emotional side (another idea that I use in Lilypad as well). No Significant Harassment is the one person Suns feels like he can be himself around, helping him realize that even those parts of him he hides make him “perfect” by virtue of being his real and unique self. It’s like Suns is a great eagle, looked up to and feared by other birds as a large bird of prey and thus lonely and pressured to soar above all else, and only the surprisingly smart macaw is able to lower his guard, helping him see he’s just as beautiful and inspiring on the ground as he is soaring high in the clouds. 

And then there’s the idea of “answering the call”. I’ve already seen your Trafficlights will probably play out as a slow burn, with Sig and Suns harboring growing feelings for each other for a while but only really acting on it once Emergence kicks in. In this case the dynamic would be mutual, with both of them longing for a deeper connection, but perhaps not realizing it until this timeline. I imagine Sig would be the one more conscious of this desire though, seeing as he openly seeks connection with others, so it’d be as if he’s a lonely songbird wanting to sing out but never getting an answer. And then of course, when Suns finally does respond it’s that much more poetic!

Trafficlights as Rio (spoilers, by the way)

OKAY HEAR ME OUT, I just have to include some words on this because this movie, this freaking movie is not only one of the two that kickstarted my love of birds but is what started this whole Trafficlights-as-birds-symbolism thing for me.

To give some context, if you don’t already know I am someone who not only loves making metaphors and symbolism with my ships, but loves finding associations between them and outside music or stories. I often look for connections to the old Disney animated fairytales, but I really end up doing it to all sorts of animated stories that I believe have pretty universal themes.

That being said, if there’s any association I’d make for Trafficlights as I currently see them, it’s to Blue Sky’s Rio and some of the scenes from that story. Firstly, Blu as a character already somewhat parallels my Suns in that he’s awkward and not the best at interacting with others. Not to mention his inability to fly, which came from him never getting a chance to embrace his emotions before being captured and taken from his home, could be paralleled to Suns’s bottling up his emotions, especially since flight in that film is directly related to feelings of happiness, love, and freedom, so Suns in a way is also “stunted” in his emotions. Meanwhile Sig on the other hand is more like Jewel, someone who at least understands his emotions a lot better and thus “knows how to fly”, and who resists others’ attempts to cage him and tries to get his partner to do the same. Like Blu Suns refuses at first, his logic and desire for a dignified self image getting the best of him being able to let loose in any environment where he isn’t surrounded by close friends. 

Then there’s the freaking “Hot Wings” scene, which takes the most responsibility for this association of mine. Largely because the two side-characters, Nico and Pedro, also seem to carry a dynamic with their lyrics that just reminds me of Suns and Sig, respectively, a lot (honestly I just thought about it on a whim one day and I can’t unsee it now…). Not to mention the entire scene is about pretty birds dancing, which given you’ve also made a decent number of drawings of Trafficlights dancing together, I think is just super fitting. And then Jewel’s singing once again brings back this idea of freedom and showing one’s emotions and love, with the remaining question being whether or not Blu can eventually unlock this feeling inside him despite his fears and fly up with her. This is something I think could work with Trafficlights, at least how I see them, for even if Suns can be more emotional around Sig and maybe his friends, he still has trouble doing so in public, not always liking the pressure of being “perfect” but not wanting to risk looking like a fool around everyone who looks up to him.

It works even better with one of the later scenes in the film when Blu and Jewel finally manage to cut the chain keeping them together, which causes Jewel to immediately lift into the sky with the pure joy and euphoria of once again being free to fly as she pleases. However, Blu is left looking up at her as she flies with their friends, and you can tell he’s both realizing again just how beautiful she is and longing so much to join her in the sky, yet still unable to fly. Once again I can’t help seeing Suns in Blu’s place, looking at Sig having fun and being so carefree, loving the feeling of being off-the-string, and him thinking Sig so beautiful and wanting to join him too. And eventually, just like Blu does in a true “answering the call fashion”, he is able to “spread his wings” and they finally can fly away together!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Okay, I think that’s all I have to say for now on this topic. This essay, excluding the preface at the beginning, is 2498 words! I think that might be a little bit more than my Lilypad essay! I really hope it delivered!

But even then, this was so fun to do! Even though Trafficlights isn’t my main ship and isn’t going to happen in my own AU, I’ve recently been looking to better figure out Sig and Suns’s relationship anyway to understand why they’re at least friends with each other. Of course there are some other factors in their relationship, some of which I’ve edited out for the sake of these ideas because it throws a bit of tension in the dynamic that could compromise its ability to work as a ship, but this was still an important aspect and I’m glad to have gotten a chance to develop it! And then of course, a reason to think about ships as well as shamelessly plug one of my favorite movies ever is also very nice!

This may all sound super silly and maybe none of it works with your Emergence Trafficlights, but regardless this was seriously such a fun opportunity, and I’m glad you gave me a reason to do this! I would love to hear your thoughts on or additions to all this, if you can!

[ryuichirou]

AzuIde Marriage AU replies

A couple of replies related to the comic we posted yesterday + a reply for a pretty old ask from back when we posted the comic on Ko-Fi! Since the comic is finally edited properly and posted here, I can actually write a proper reply.

Thank you for your patience, and thanks to everyone for your interest!

Anonymous asked:

Can I just say how much I adore your design for adult azul? It just hits all the marks, the round glasses with chain? Yes! White suit? Yes! Hairstyle? fucking yes!

Thank you so much, Anon!!

Round glasses work super well with Azul’s face, he looks like even more of a villain somehow lol So I love making him wear those. And I am such a sucker for horrible people wearing white suits (it’s like a trauma from my Yami no Matsuei days). I am very happy you like this design for Azul!

In-universe though, I think Azul is very careful with what he wears and how he accessorses himself, so every one of his decisions is very intentional.

Anonymous asked:

Is Azul still going to be mad at Idia when they get home? Will he dole out punishment?

Partially replied here, as well as gave some more explanation about what actually happened (there isn’t much though because the story is very vague), and I’ll repost that explanation just in case! <3

Here is what I can say for certain: after being separated from Idia for quite a long time, Azul is going to kind of take care of him, as in “it’s okay, you’ve suffered enough” kind of way; but Idia is smart enough to know that this is just Azul trying to make Idia rely on him again, so he could shut the cage door and trap him once and for all. Azul is also very good at victimblaming, manipulating and gaslighting + has will-power that Idia doesn’t always have, so even if Idia knows that Azul’s kindness isn’t genuine (Azul never forgets those who betray him), he is powerless to change anything at this point. He just wants him and Ortho to be safe, and Ortho wants it too. So even though Ortho technically could blast Azul and the Tweels’ asses, Azul is perfectly aware of this risk, so he uses a different approach on Ortho. After all, Ortho is a smart boy + he and Azul have the same goal: they want Idia to be happy, right? It’s easier to do it while working together instead of fighting!

Anyways, Azul scary and powerful, and at this point in the story he has a lot of useful connections including STYX and probably even Idia’s parents. A lot more strings to manipulate the events in a way that would portray him as a forgiving and loving saint, but still ensure that Idia never leaves him again.

And after this position is secured, then he might start punishing Idia. But in a way that is very subtle to everyone around them, but painfully obvious for Idia.

So a TL;DR answer would be: yes, Azul is still mad, but he won’t punish him right away. He’ll act like a sweet and caring husband for a while (Idia won’t buy that bs), and when he gets tired of that act, he’ll start punishing Idia in a sneaky way.

As for what kind of punishment it would be…

Anonymous asked:

I remember the general punishments Azul would dish out to Idia from the original dark headcanons post but in a recent post, you said that when Azul punishes Idia in this case it would be in a way that no one would notice. Do you have any headcanons about these punishments? 😀

(Once again, sorry for the wait, Anon!)

I do have some thoughts! But when it comes to these kinds of scenario, it’s a bit difficult to come up with headcanons because I feel like no matter what I come up with, Azul would’ve came up with something more cunning, more sinister, more subtle and more cruel. So take whatever I’m about to write and keep in mind that it could be x3 times worse lol Azul is very bad when he feels rejected.

Azul would control the entire narrative of what has happened between them. He would play his cards in a way that would make everyone believe that Idia left him seemingly out of nowhere, and that this is just Idia causing trouble due to being bad at interacting with people. He will even manage to fool S.T.Y.X. people and their ex-classmates into thinking that yeah, Azul is notoriously pretty sleazy and cunning, but he seems to be genuinely in love with Idia: ever since that accident he’s been all over him, protecting him, taking care of him, even skipping work (!!!) to be with him. “Maybe even Azul has a heart, who would’ve thought”, “I guess it really was Idia’s mess-up…”, “He is such a good husband, Idia needs to appreciate him more”…

At the same time, Azul would defend Idia in front of all these people whenever someone would even hint at Idia hurting Azul’s feelings. He would insist that Idia is completely forgiven, and that it would be incredibly petty to worry about this little thing when he almost lost him. Azul might even say that the Universe has given them a second chance, and that this time Azul will make everything right just so Idia doesn’t feel the need to run from him anymore. What an angel you are, Azul Ashengrotto! Idia would feel like he is losing his mind hearing these conversations. It would be overwhelming and so horribly isolating, he’d feel like he can’t talk to anyone about anything anymore. His social anxiety would actually become way worse.

And yet, Azul would force him to come out more often. Together, of course. He would walk with him (Idia wouldn’t be able to walk properly by himself for a couple of months during his recovery), bring him to events (“You are probably very bored and lonely, let’s visit our friends at [company name], shall we?”). Not only it would make Idia see a huge swarm of people discussing his every move, he would constantly feel eyes on him because Azul would become more clingy in public. He would constantly hold his hand and kiss it, kiss his face and lips, bring him closer while hugging his shoulders, etc. PDA was never Azul’s style, but now it feels like he is showcasing their love to everyone and cementing their status as a hopeful young couple that is together against all odds. This would make all the social pressure on Idia absolutely unbearable. It feels like a walk of shame…

It’s not like the situation at home would be any better, mind you. Azul being sweet with Idia would make him feel even more anxious because it’s one thing to act all nice in front of people to save face, but when they’re all alone, it feels like Azul is preparing something, something big and horrible, and Idia would feel this anticipation so vividly every second around him. Azul would just smile and say that Idia is being paranoid and overly suspicious of him, and that it’s actually very hurtful. Azul would barely hide his smile because he hasn’t done anything yet, and Idia already looks like a caged animal with fear in his eyes. He wants him to marinate in this fear more, even if it breaks his psyche completely.

Azul would start gaslighting Idia into thinking that his health is declining, both mental and physical. He would act very protective and caring, he’ll even manage to make Idia believe that he is genuinely scared for his well-being at some point. The amount of unnecessary potions and drugs he would make Idia consume both sneakily and openly is insane. He might even do that toxic husband thing and pay a therapist to make them tell him everything Idia was talking about to them during the session… if he managed to make Ortho make Idia go to the therapist, that is (no way he’d manage to make Idia go himself).  

He would guilt-trip Idia a lot. Even though Idia doesn’t love him, Azul would still manage to make him feel bad for leaving Azul like this. Even if Idia knows that Azul is playing games with him, he would feel guilty all the time, but this isn’t even the worst thing. What is much worse is that sometimes Azul just sighs and goes “I didn’t want it to bring this up because I know how bad it is for you, but…” and drops the bomb about Idia putting Ortho in danger again. Blaming Idia for harming Ortho (intentionally being vague, knowing that it would reopen old wounds) is another thing that Azul would never usually do, but right now he’s spiteful, angry and genuinely wants to hurt Idia as much as he can. Even if Idia doesn’t care about Azul and wants to run away again, would it really be the best move for Ortho? He barely survived the accident, after all.

Idia isn’t the only person Azul would guilt-trip. He would also guilt-trip Ortho who feels very responsible for everything that’s happened to Idia. He would’ve easily sensed that Azul is lying, but it seems that even a machine could be messed with if the most important person in its life is hurt. Like I mentioned in another reply, Azul would make Ortho feel like they want the same thing and should work together. Of course Ortho would feel like he is betraying Idia in a way, but he would still cooperate because of his guilt + feeling that giving Azul full access to everything that Idia does online would make Idia more safe and happier somehow.

[palmtreesx3]

As my header states, I'm too old for this. But here I am anyway. If you're here you're gonna watch me embarrassingly lust over every version of Steve Harrington (who am I kidding, just Joe Keery in general) and while I mostly just react to other people's tremendously talented work, I occasionally dabble myself.

So if you are lurking, enjoy and leave some kisses 💋

(18+, don't be cunty, yada yada yada)

🔥 Spicy/Smutty 🚨 Cannon/Cannon Adjacent ❤️ Fluffy/Boyfriend-ism 😩 Angsty

Get Off (Series) 🔥18+ - SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC (7/9)

Summary: Steve and Robin have about had it with Hawkins, so on Robin's 25th birthday, the pair decides that there's nothing holding them there anymore and they start packing their bags. The friends move to Chicago and quickly find an apartment to call their own. As luck would have it, within hours of arriving to the city, Robin stumbles on a no-strings-attached job offer for both of them - what could be better?! Now just to break the news to Steve…. This multi part story will both explore their platonic relationship and their chaotic experience working at the sex shop together as well as their own paths of self discovery as they plant their roots in their new city and finally deal with the invisible baggage they drug along with them when they moved. Act 4 - Out Now :)

Prologue || V-Card || Act 1 || Act 2 || Act 3 || Act 4 || Act 5 || Act 6 || Epilogue

------------------

King of Wishful Thinking (Series) ❤️ Fluffy but eventually 🔥 18+ and marked as such because I'm a hoe - Steve Harrington x Reader (2/?)

Summary: Steve has been in love with you for his entire life. He has always wanted to express his feelings and do nice things for you, but every time he tries to come up with new and creative ways to show you how much he cares, but it seems like fate is always against him. Even though he shallowly convinces himself that you’re just meant to be friends and despite these setbacks, Steve remains determined to keep trying. He still holds onto the hope that someday he'll be able to express his feelings to you and maybe, just maybe have them reciprocated. Paused but not forgotten

1974 || 1978 || 1980 (coming soon)

Joe Keery Photo Drop Support Group A place to gather when he sends us into a tizzy. This support group was started in response to the Behind the Blinds Photo Drops but can and will be revisited anytime this man rocks our world like that again....All are welcome. Judgement Free-zone. Cake ALWAYS served.

Birthday Cake Train 🍰 A communal space to celebrate birthdays and serve up a slice of Cake....you know which kind. Join the thread when it's your turn. There's enough to go around.

Seeing Stars 🔥18+ The crew finally decides it's time to start celebrating the 4th of July again, but Steve Harrington finds he can't stop himself from staring.

A Girl Like You (PT 2 to Seeing Stars) 🔥18+ In the aftermath of the 4th, embarrassment and emotions are flying, tables turn and shit gets figured out. Read Part 1 to see how exactly we got here.

Deeper for You 🔥18+ It's your annual beach trip with the crew from Hawkins, something you've all been doing together your whole adult life after life forced everyone to part ways. You're all close, but this year, an accidental encounter in the outdoor shower makes you get a little closer with one person in particular.

Jealous Friend One Shot 🔥18+ ask Watching your friend, Steve Harrington, go on Kamakazi Mission dates over and over again was getting kind of old. You’re always there to listen, comfort and pick up the pieces but what if this time it’s just too much? What if this time you’ve had enough and something that feels a little bit like jealousy rears its ugly head?

Firefighter!Steve One Shot

Taking Care of Steve (Road Head) Blurb 🔥18+ ask

Vampy Steve Blurb ask

Fool in Love Blurb (King of Wishful Thinking inspo) ❤️

Stevie Takes Care of You When You're Sick Blurb ❤️ ask

Joe Keery as Steve Harrington Micro expressions

Steve Harrington Smells Like head cannons

Cozy Cardigan Steve (Joe Keery Dork Mag inspo) ❤️

Ok maybe I'm being overdramatic, but please also consider reading these fics or series I feel like I'd lay down my life for because they have become a visceral part of me and changed the fabric of my being and I think about them all the time. They are all *chefs kiss* and written by amazingly talented people who also have deep Masterlists that also deliver. So wake the fuck up and read em! Again, most (okay fine, all) are 🔥 18+ ...again, because I'm a hoe

Into Open Flames 🔥😩🚨 on AO3

Midnight City 🔥 by @superblysubpar

We'll Call it Love 🔥😩 by @superblysubpar

If Tomorrow Never Comes 🔥😩🚨 by @sweetsweetjellybean

All I Really Want is You ❤️🔥 by @loveshotzz

Whatta Man (Steve's Night) 🔥 by @loveshotzz

New Years Eve (Steve & Eddie)🔥😩 by @loveshotzz

Beyond 🔥 by @abibliophobiaa

We Tried the World 🔥😩 @upsidedownwithsteve

And I Snuck in Through the Garden Gate ❤️🔥 @upsidedownwithsteve

Don't Call Me Baby 🔥😩 by @katyswrites

Aftermath (Steve & Eddie)🔥😩🚨 by @sweetsweetjellybean

Daisy 🔥 by @thyme-in-a-bubble

PSA: Don't steal my shit. Don't repost my shit. Don't steal other peoples shit. Don't use AI. Don't feed my shit into AI. Don't feed other people's shit into AI. Just come here, read about this sweet piece of a man and live on our fantasy island together in lust and in peace.

[becauseplot]

Hi hello yes more thoughts about this hgduo pre-canon, hunger games/wars au(??) because my brain is rotating them at incredible speeds. (Obligatory cannibalism tw because yeah the lore do be like that.)

Bad originally finds Cellbit while the kid is trying to use a dagger to carve up a body to eat---key word trying. Bad stands back and watches him struggle for about thirty seconds before speaking up: "You're holding that wrong." (The kid jumps about two feet in the air. "WhhUH---") "Also you're not supposed to carve with a dagger, silly. You should really be using a knife. Here." And Bad passes him one of his hunting knives.

Bad mentally dubs Cellbit "Dagger-Kid" because he doesn't know Cellbit's name. When Cellbit later admits he doesn't know his name either, Bad officially dubs him "Dagger-Kid" or "Dagger" for short. ((For the rest of this I'll be calling Cellbit "Dagger")) ((Also I'm not 100% on this name yet but we'll see.))

I should note that I also think it would be funny that every time Dagger does something notable or reveals a new quality about himself, Bad tries to give him a new name. Like, they scavenge a piece of chocolate off one of their victims and Dagger loves it, so Bad tries to suggest, "Oh oh! What if we called you 'Sweets'! Or 'Chocolate'? 'Coco,' maybe?" all of which Dagger (playfully) rolls his eyes at. Bad rotates through nicknames regularly, but Dagger personally sticks with the first name Bad gave him.

Dagger was on his own for two months before he met Bad. He is injured and half-starved and utterly exhausted. The first time they make camp together, Dagger promises he'll take the first watch, but he nods off before even Bad can fall asleep. It's the first time Dagger has felt safe enough to truly relax, so his body just crashes. He sleeps for twelve hours.

This one's honestly more of a general qsmp headcanon I have but it goes here too: Bad teaches Dagger how to throw knives (for combat) and how to do knife tricks (for fun). Current-day Cellbit still remembers how to do the tricks, and he'll often use them as a way of fidgeting when he's thinking---with a pen or pencil instead, though.

One of Dagger's natural talents is stealth. He's not as quiet as Bad, but he's definitely good at it; his cat-hybrid traits definitely lend him a hand here, too. It's the main way Dagger survived before meeting Bad, stealing supplies out of camps while people were sleeping.

Bad, being a demon, doesn't need to eat, drink, or sleep as much as mortals do, and certainly not as much as a teenage boy. To him, it only seems practical that he gives himself smaller portions of their rations, or takes longer nightwatch shifts. But Dagger (who can scarcely imagine ever being not hungry or not tired, much less at the same time) is still grateful and feels somewhat indebted to Bad, even after Bad explains.

Dagger (a cat hybrid and a little more than a bit messed up) bites to show affection. Usually Bad's arm. Any normal guy would be injured by the force of Dagger's bite---Dagger doesn't really seem to understand that not-biting-hard is an option---but Bad doesn't really mind it.

(The truth is that deep down Dagger really wants to hug Bad, but he knows Bad isn't a very cuddly person, and yeah Bad might give him a hug if he asked but he's too afraid to ask so all that affection stays bottled up until it rises rises rises and he just doesn't know what to do with it anymore and it needs OUT---)

Bad thwacks Dagger upside the head with his tail whenever Dagger is being a "little rapscallion" and eventually Dagger starts retaliating. His tail isn't as long or flexible as Bad's but he definitely does try.

Bad has a lot of stories to tell. Some true, some made up on the fly. He's always liked telling stories, and Dagger is a captive audience. He learns Dagger loves mysteries, and suddenly, all of his campfire stories are about spies, and detectives, and red-string cork boards and espionage.

The thing Dagger fears the most is that one morning he'll wake up and Bad won't be there because Bad decided Dagger slowed him down and thus abandoned him. He thinks about this near-constantly. (The thing Bad fears the most is that one morning he'll wake up and look at Dagger and start caring like he used to a long, long time ago. He does not think about this at all.)

[carrionhearted]

Im gonna infodump about my ocs because I can’t stop thinking about them. This will be a book… One day. Read on with caution, this is a horror book with very dark subject matter and mild body horror.

There are two mcs, a closeted gay trans man (Eden), and a severely repressed cis gay man (Harlow). Both raised in a hyper-conservative hyper-religious Deep South town IN THE 80S.

Their story is about the deadly consequences of repression, the cycle of abuse, learned hatred and destructive coping mechanisms. Harlow grew up with an INCREDIBLY toxic father who drilled toxic masculinity into him (having feelings is shameful) as well as homophobia. He only ever demonstrated "solving" problems with violence. Harlow was never given the tools or space to unpack any of his feelings ever. So he grew up to become this repressed, horribly frustrated and confused adult who could not understand his attraction towards other men.

Being gay wasn't even a thought in his mind, it wasn't a possibility to him. His father constructed this impenetrable wall of “us” vs “them” in Harlow’s mind- and like a plant deprived of sunlight, he never grew tall enough to see over it.

All he knew was this gut-wrenching hunger, this insatiable craving for other men’s bodies which he couldn't place- something about the flesh, the warmth, he hungered for it in a way which became unbearable. This did not register to him as sexual, again, that wasn't even an option… but he didn’t know what it was. And when you don’t know how to process your own emotions, it all eventually turns into frustration/ rage. So he solved this problem in the only way he was ever taught how- with violence! He killed men, initially choosing those he deemed deserving of death, and he ate them. An attempt to satiate the hunger. This became a habitual thing and he just… kept doing it. Not because it brought him any real satisfaction, it just snowballed into an addiction and he needed his fix. His town caught on to the string of murders, but he was flying completely under everyone’s radar. We’re talking about a 6’ mullet-having yeehaw dude who’s generally reserved and works for his family’s farm, nobody was really looking at him here.

Important backstory tidbit: Harlow was taught how to hunt as a kid. His father took him on outings, which were maybe the only positive memories he had of that man- and they would hunt deer together. He was taught to always use the whole animal, never let anything go to waste- because everything is valuable.

Everything is a gift. “It’s only murder if you waste the animal” (this heavily influenced his later cannibal ways).

One day as a young teen, he found himself alone for a trip. That's when he was approached by this deer- it looked sickly, almost like it was rotting while alive (it had Chronic Wasting Disease). It was clearly suffering, made clear by its complete lack of survival instincts. It walked right up to his gun. It was in pain. He shot it to put it out of its misery, but he did not take the meat. What was he supposed to do? It was useless to him,, he couldn't eat the rotting meat, and despite that he still felt an immense guilt for leaving it behind. Killing, and just abandoning the body. It registered to him as murder. He carried that feeling of guilt with him for the rest of his life. He vowed to never discard a body again.

Eden is a trans man who knows he's trans, but is out to practically nobody during the story. He’s the youngest in his family, with four older brothers. His parents were NOT suited to be parents- they were self centred people who treated their children like accessories. The parents obsessively kept up this “picturesque good Christian family” facade to the world, but that became harder to maintain as they had more kids. They started having to cut corners financially, to the detriment of those kids. That said, every one of their children was planned. The reason they kept having kids despite their situation was because the mother wanted a daughter. Then, Eden was born, assigned female at birth. Since his birth Eden had been treated like a precious doll more so than a child- he was sheltered and only received direct attention from his parents when they needed to dress him up all pretty for Sunday service. There was an incredible amount of pressure on him to be what everyone wanted. He was also raised VERY religiously, all of which MAJORLY contributed to his inner-turmoil abt being trans. He didn’t even have a word for it, to be “trans”. Only this unmistakable discomfort, guilt and shame, feeling like something is wrong with him, feeling like god made a mistake with him. Again, conservative religious south, he has no space to explore these feelings safely. He's pushed it all down and let it fester inside until it started gnawing away at his very being.

A few years prior to the story, this began to manifest physically as a literal rot. This spot of decay on his chest that's been growing and sinking deeper into his body for years. Sloooowly eating away at him, on track to continue until there is nothing left to devour. By the start of the book it’s claimed most of the flesh on his chest- his ribcage is sparsely covered with any skin at all- and the organs beneath are made vulnerable by it. However, he is horrified to seek medical attention. He sees the rot as a marking of his sin, god has stamped his body with this ugly decay to let everyone else know he's defective.

He hides it beneath layers of clothing. Being on his chest, it’s in a place that only an intimate partner would ever see- considering he's perceived by the world as a "woman".

In a… complicated series of events involving ✨societal pressure and coercion✨, an "intimate partner" does end up seeing his chest (Eden is not clear minded when these events are taking place).

This partner reacts with repulsion and violence, to the extreme that Eden fears for his life. He kills the other man in self Defense. (This sequence alludes to the “trans panic” legal defense which is still permitted by many US courts. If you pursue someone intimately, don’t like what you see beneath their clothes, and you KILL THEM- you can claim “I panicked because I didn’t know they were trans” and get a lesser sentence. It’s bullshit and I’m gonna attempt to very delicately write this scene to highlight how bizarre and unwarranted the male partner’s violent response is. The rot in this instance is symbolic of the perceived defect).

In disposing of the body, he runs into Harlow. They find eachother in a (undecided) remote, secretive location.

You’ll never guess what Harlow is doing! Also disposing of remains (bones n guts), at the same place, face hidden while he does so. They have a mutual deer-in-headlights standoff. There IS an open case of serial murders in their small town… Harlow is responsible. Eden realizes this after a short exchange of stunned words, and totally breaks down. Heavy dialogue exchange, Eden feels completely defeated and destroyed by guilt, he just begs Harlow to kill him. Harlow responds by saying he only kills men (Eden is closeted and passes as a woman). This pushes Eden over the edge and he snaps, he shouts that he is a man, this is the first time he’s ever said it out loud. Harlow is… confused, but intrigued. He doesn’t want to kill Eden, but he’s not sure what he does want to do. He decides to knock Eden out… which he does very easily.

Eden wakes up in a different location. Some not so great smelling farmhouse of sorts. Harlow enters the room eventually and explains… “I disposed of that body for you, don’t worry about that right now. I bruised your head pretty bad when I knocked you out, sorry about that, I didn’t mean to use that much force. I made you some soup! It’ll help. The meat is pork. Don’t worry about it. Let’s talk. :3” They’re still both very unsure of each other but neither have much to lose (they also have mutual blackmail) so they start talking. AND BOOM

COMPLICATED SERIES OF EVENTS

ENSUES AND THEY BOND OVER SHARED EXPERIENCES, TEACH EACH OTHER TO UNLEARN THEIR TOXIC AND DESTRUCTIVE WAYS, HAVE A ROMANCE WHICH SERVES AS A VALIDATION ARC FOR EDEN AND A SELF-ACCEPTANCE ARC FOR HARLOW AND YADA YADA. They are both profoundly disturbed individuals who have done terrible things but the whole point is to hold a magnifying glass to their actions and point out HOW and WHY they fucked up. To condemn that path, the mindset behind it, and the people who carried on those abusive cycles before them. I want to thoroughly examine and chip away at the layers of external influence that lead these characters to their lowest life points- and reveal the truth beneath them. These were once children, full of love and openness as we all once were- the problem is larger than the individual, it’s a societal issue of passed down bigotry and stubborn refusal to progress. It’s a toxic cycle of violence with very real, very deadly consequences for all involved. The characters both do BAD things, that’s the POINT.

Important backstory tidbit: In Eden’s childhood, he found a baby bird fallen a long ways from its nest. It was hurt, and he brought it inside to a small cage. He figured the cage would serve as protection for the bird as it grew- it was so delicate, it needed the shelter. But that cage was tiny. He fed the bird, tried to take care of it and gave it all its base survival needs. The bird was offered food, water and a cage. But that is all. That’s all Eden was given in his home, he thought that meant it was enough. He watched it grow into a young dove, but as it aged it only got sicker. This bird was deteriorating before his eyes and he couldn't understand why- he feared it would die in that cage. As soon as it became old enough to fly, Eden made the decision to release the bird. It was sicker than ever, Eden knew it didn't have long. He knew releasing it would practically be a death sentence, but it was going to die soon either way. He did not want the bird to die in the cage.

When released, the dove didn't even know how to flap its wings properly. The cage was too small to stretch them out, it had never even had the chance to learn how to fly. It didn't know how to find food. It didn’t know how to identify danger. And on the next morning, Eden found that bird on the ground outside of his house, dead. It was being picked away at by a vulture.

Eden felt relief.

The bird had died. It didn't make it. But it brought him peace to know it didn't die in that cage. That bird had never known the love of its mother, or siblings, it had never known what it was like to be wanted and cherished. That role was left to the vulture, who had never turned away from the unsightly or damaged. It had swooped in with the unconditional love of an angel, and carried the dove off into the sky above- its stomach, a chariot to heaven. It was gruesome watching the vulture feast- but it had such a tender appreciation in its eyes. It kept the circle of life in motion. In a way, Eden found this ending happy.

Eden’s symbolic bird is a dove, Harlow’s symbolic bird is a vulture.

They both die at the end of the story.

They'd become very close over the span of it though- they resolved their issues together, but in doing that they found themselves further ostracized from the world around them. They backed themselves further and further away from the world, until they finally hit a corner. Their past destructive actions were also catching up to them- the murders that is, they ended up on the run from police. It all came back to bite them.

The rot on Eden’s chest had spread throughout his entire body, and it was past the point of no return. No medical intervention would help at this point. One night, after a close encounter with police left them both wounded- Eden and Harlow both realized that these were Eden’s last few hours.

His body was decayed and rotted, he was sick, he was injured, he was visibly suffering. He would die soon, it was inevitable. Harlow decides to put him out of his misery. But he couldn’t stand the thought of discarding the body. He didn’t want him to die unloved.

Reaching into Eden's exposed ribcage, Harlow removed his heart from his chest. He knew this would be a death sentence, but he was going to die either way. He didn't want him to die in the cage.

He ate the heart, rotting and tainted as it was, he saw every part of his lover as a gift. Nothing goes to waste, for every rotting animal there is a grateful vulture. One which will see your defect and cherish you all the same.

Is now a good time to address the name Eden? I feel like most people are familiar with the gay love = forbidden fruit and/or cannibalism = forbidden fruit metaphor… yk, the embrace of supposed sin, being arbitrarily kept from the sweet, nutritious fruit of the garden. Passing through the gates of Eden (ribcage again) and eating the apple (his heart).

:3 anyways

Harlowstayed with the body until he also died (unrelated wounds from the chase). Decades later they would be found as skeletons in an unmistakable embrace, none of the flesh which made people scorn them during their lives. They were seen as lovers then, and were finally understood.

ALSO ALSO SO SYMBOLISM RIGHT. RELIGIOUS SYMBOLISM??? REMEMBER HOW EDEN WAS RAISED AS HYPER-RELIGIOUS???

So cannibalism as a metaphor for QUEERNESS now. A craving for the forbidden flesh. To partake in another's body in the most intimate and fulfilling way. But living in a world that sees it as repulsive…

Right? You with me?

Ok and then the inherent divinity of transness. To partake in the act of creation alongside God, to resculpt yourself in divine image. Jesus was not simply born of genetic material (yk how transphobes love to say “blah blah blah you can’t change your chromosomes!!” Like… if we use that logic, Jesus is trans. He’d have XX chromosomes because... miraculous conception.

No sperm, which provides the Y chromosome, which creates a male body. BUT OBVIOUSLY THAT DOESNT FUCKING MATTER BECAUSE HES A MAN REGARDLESS!!!! JESUS WAS A DUDE!!!). He was created by WILL.

The will of god, a version of himself, to BE!!! Fully human, fully god, flesh and blood in an image he himself designed. Holy trinity being the same entity and all, Jesus’s body was his own design in a way.

YOU WITH ME???

OK

OKAY AND SO.

GAY CANNIBALISM… TRANS LOVER.

TO

TO PARTAKE IN THE BLOOD AND BODY OF CHRIST. THEOPHAGY.

THE ULTIMATE HOLY COMMUNION.

TO CONSUME YOUR LOVER AS AN ACT OF WORSHIP, CONVEYING YOUR LOVE FOR EVERY PART OF THE BODY THEY'VE GROWN TO DISPISE. TAKING A PHYSICAL PIECE OF THEIR LIFE INTO YOURS AND UNITING YOUR VERY BEINGS. UNCONDITIONAL AND ETERNAL LOVE, DESPITE ONE’S FLAWS.

TO THINK OF YOURSELF AS CARRION AND BE FOUND BY THE MOST GRATEFUL VULTURE.

A DEAD AND ROTTING GOD STILL BRINGS LIFE TO THE MAGGOTS WHICH FEED ON ITS CORPSE!!!

RAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m unwell I’m unwell I’m unwell I need to actually get to writing this NOW

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

I’m not the writing tips anon, but loved your tips!!! Any more detailed tips for outlining and editing? Generally I get stuck into both of this and can’t seem to know how to do it in a effective way. Have a good june and a nice day! :)

other then the few relevant ones from my previous ask, here are some that came to mind:

outlining:

firstly you'll need to brainstorm a bit, come up with the story. maybe you've scribbled down some notes over a period of time that you can now sit down and gather, perhaps fill in the holes and find strings to connect it all together. or maybe it is a true brainstorm and you haven't decided on any of the puzzles corner pieces yet.

my personal routine for when I need to figure out a story is to sit down at a time when things are calm and I can properly think, often it is by a window (there's just something about looking up at the clouds that gets my wheels turning), some days I put on some music (I prefer instrumental for this, often with the vibe I'm trying to capture in with the story) and then I kinda just meditate on it and write down any ideas that might strike me.

or if I feel stuck there and the ideas just won't come, then I go do something completely different. the lightbulb often gets turned on whenever I go take a shower or do the dishes or even go for a walk through a quiet place. or even the classic of watching a movie or tv show can grant me plenty of inspiration when I'm in lack of it. prompt lists can also be a great help (one of the reasons I have a whole side blog dedicated just to keeping them organised: @prompt-heaven)

and then when my list of messy notes is long enough, I put them in order and fill out the holes to make the story flow naturally from one moment to the next. I just play it all out in my head till it feels right.

depending on how long or complicated the story is, the process or outlining it can take various amounts of time. some stories come like a bolt of lightning while others you need to dig for. but I find it to be easiest when my mind and body is in a place where there is place for such a thing, when I'm not too stressed or tired or anything, those are the moments when I get stuck, and then I just have to take a step back and declare that that won't be the activity of the day and instead focus my energy on doing something that'll make me feel better so that I'll sooner get to a point where the ideas will come flooding in.

editing:

my biggest advice for this, I wrote in the previous ask (to never edit when tired and to always edit while reading out loud)

if gramma is something you struggle with, then I highly advise getting the free version of grammarly or other similar programs.

and if a part of your story isn't sitting well when you're editing it, then you can always rewrite it. you can make it something completely different or even just try to write the same premise though only rewrite it from your memory.

and try not to be too critical of yourself. sometimes, some stories, aren't ment to be made "perfect" but simply to be completed. for it to be done is enough.

[delimeful]

helpless (7)

warnings: restraints, blood and injury, unethical treatment, spider mention/drider, misunderstandings, cannibalism mentions, kidnapping, lmk if i missed any

-

Janus managed to bite three different people before they finally pinned him in one place long enough to force the makeshift muzzle over his head.

He didn’t regret it, persay, but the little victory would have been far more gratifying if he hadn’t gotten his head slammed into a wall hard enough to make him see stars right afterwards.

If it weren’t for the cobbled-together gag, he would have started swearing. It was already extremely unlikely that he’d make it out of this particular clusterfuck unscathed, and seeing double certainly wasn’t going to improve his odds.

At least he’d ruined a few lives on his way out, he reflected as they hauled him up and out the door of the decrepit barn at the edge of town. His curse wasn’t useful for much, but he’d made the most of his venom and its ‘truth-telling’ properties no matter where he went.

The ones he’d bitten would be spilling their guts for the better part of a day, and he was more than sure that they’d be dropping some unpleasant secrets. If he was lucky, they’d be forced to regurgitate his little vigilante scheme to someone in town who’d see it for the idiocy it was.

Well, no. If he was actually lucky, he’d miraculously wiggle his way out of a painful and messy death. Getting his tormentors punished was more of a pleasant afterthought in the luck department.

He was unimaginably pissed that of all the plots against him, this was the one he hadn’t seen coming.

Sure, in retrospect, the dragon that used to demand tribute from the town had clearly had a bigger impact on the older populace than he’d first assumed. He’d been wary about settling there for a while, what with the scales and the eye and the other dragon-adjacent traits, but nobody had given him more than the usual level of confusion and distaste, and some people had been outright friendly.

How was he supposed to know that opinion would suddenly shift because something as generally positive as a rescued child?

He hadn’t even been involved with the whole situation!

Sure, he’d felt the overwhelming dread in the air when the child of one of the town’s governing members had disappeared. He’d breathed in a sigh of relief the same as everyone else when she’d been miraculously returned barely a day later. He’d even heard a fair number of the rumors recounting the stories she’d told about the creature in the woods that had helped her.

Strange, and definitely a reason to keep an eye on those woods, but the ordeal had nothing to do with him, and he’d thought it was over.

Except, according to his oh-so-gracious captors, that wasn’t the end of it. No supernatural presence came without strings attached, and with the rescue of one that could (at a stretch) be called an heir, they were convinced that the town would be called on to repay the debt.

So they’d decided that rather than wait for a monster to come claim a resident and steal them away in a week or two, they would choose the payment themselves. At that point, it was only a matter of picking someone they could afford to lose. Unsurprisingly, they settled on the cursed foreigner with the bad attitude.

Janus had had his humanity doubted his entire life, and now he’d been forced into the role of human sacrifice. He imagined he would have appreciated the irony more if it weren’t at his own expense.

His only balm was the fact that this clearly wasn’t a unanimous decision, going by the cloak-and-dagger way he’d been abducted and dragged out of town. He liked a fair few of his neighbors at this point, and he would have hated to find out that in addition to his imminent demise, he was also a horrible judge of character.

His attention snapped back to the unfortunate situation at hand as his captors slowed to a stop. They had reached a small, man-made clearing a little ways into the woods, with a tall, worn post driven deep into the earth. The wood was stained and the ground indented in strange places, as though the dragon and a bloody sacrifice had departed only hours ago, instead of years.

A shudder ran through the idiot on his left, clearly remembering something about the horrors that had taken place here. As someone who was about to become a horror taking place here, Janus found himself utterly unable to dredge up any sympathy for him.

In fact, he abruptly decided that the hypocrisy had earned his captor a knee to the groin, in the name of him getting the hell out of here.

The person on his other side must’ve been the keener sort, because their reflexes were much sharper.

One very short escape attempt later, Janus was firmly tied to the post, now with a spattering of heavy bruising all along his ribs in addition to his probable concussion.

To add insult to injury– or rather, injury to injury, they’d bid him farewell with a gash sliced into the front of his lower leg, relatively shallow but easily deep enough for blood to start seeping into his pants.

Fantastic. More obstacles to him getting out of this, exactly what he needed.

He tried not to dwell on his own helplessness, but it was everywhere he looked. He’d been stripped of his work belt and all the tools on it. He couldn’t make them doubt themselves with any well-placed remarks. He couldn’t even glare at their retreating backs without sending a new spike of pain through his throbbing skull.

A glance at the post was enough to dispel any hopes he’d had of physically breaking free; it was covered in various scratches and scrapes from previous victims, and there was no sign that any of them had gotten anywhere close to damaging it.

He tenderly leaned his head back against the wood and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think of a way out. Trying not to let the creeping fear overwhelm his irritation.

A distant rustle made his head snap up with a painful jolt, scanning the treeline for a long moment, body drawn as taut as a bowstring.

Nothing. Nothing he could see, anyway.

Janus hissed lowly against the cloth of the gag, ignoring the way his hands had started shaking from where they were pinned behind his back.

It was going to be a long night.

—

Virgil was doing some early-morning web maintenance when he found them.

Or more accurately, stumbled across them. He regularly cut across this part of the forest to avoid running into anyone in the grove of fruit trees that the nearby town liked to harvest from, and he’d already been halfway across the clearing when the scent of blood hit him.

He stopped dead, shuffling his legs slightly to make sure he wasn’t imagining things, and then turned to actually look over the open space with a growing sense of dread.

Oh. The weird wooden pole driven into the center of the clearing now had a human tied to it. One that was staring directly at him.

… How many times was this going to happen to him?!

Not the thing to focus on, right now. Virgil took a deep breath, forcing himself to assess his latest mess instead of cursing whatever deity had apparently thought it funny to put him in situations like this.

The human was on the shorter side, with disheveled blonde hair, mismatched eyes, and a startling pattern of greenish-gold scales along one side of their face. Their clothes were meticulously embroidered, though Virgil couldn’t make out the patterns through the extensive amount of ropes binding them to the wooden pole. As though those weren’t bad enough, there was a strange haphazard gag tied around their head, preventing them from speaking.

Clearly, they had been brought here against their will. Not unscathed, either. Their legs were stretched out in front of them, and though their pants were black, one pant leg was torn and glinting wetly with what was almost certainly blood.

The sight was enough to jolt Virgil into action, and he turned to actually face the stranger, skittering forward a few steps–

They recoiled harshly enough to bang the back of their head against the wood, and made a low, panicked sound of pain.

Virgil froze, his chest growing tight at the way they were watching him. Their eyes flicked over every inch of him like a cornered deer, their chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.

This wasn’t one of his humans. This was a stranger that had been left to an uncertain fate, now faced with a monster. They were terrified.

“Hey, I– I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice coming out slightly hoarse. He crept forward, slower now, with his hands raised in the human version of nonaggression. He tilted one down to gesture at their wound. “I don’t know how you got here, but that leg looks pretty bad.”

The stranger dragged both legs up to tuck their knees against their chest, curling into a defensive ball with a glare that screamed ‘back-off-don’t-touch-me’. The injured leg was visibly shaking with the strain.

“No, look– hey. I promise I’m not going to kill you or eat you or anything,” he tried, attempting to meet their eyes directly. He crept forward a few more steps. “I know that might be hard to believe with the whole giant spider thing but I’m very firmly anti-cannibalism. Even if it’s technically like, only partial cannibalism.”

That… actually didn’t sound super reassuring, out loud. Virgil winced, resisting the urge to groan. Why had he decided to start using words like ‘cannibalism’?

He really should just call it quits and go get one of the others. After all these years of avoiding contact to avoid scaring the life out of people, he finally had friends that could help him out of awkward situations like these.

Except… the thought of turning around and leaving the stranger like this, bound and helpless while those who did it to them were presumably still running around…

It would only be for a little while. Just until he could poke Patton awake and lead him back here. But a lot could happen in a little while.

The stranger was studying him with a little less mindless panic, now, but he could see the fine tremors running through their frame. It was probably from fear, or pain, or even… cold?

This close, he could see that their clothes were actually pretty damp everywhere, which was odd. The dirt was hard packed under them, no dew-covered grass in reach, and Virgil had been out and about for most of the night. It hadn’t rained this morning, only late… last night…

“Holy shit, you’ve been out here all night,” he said, horrified. “Bleeding!”

The stranger blinked at him with a level of mild disorientation that Virgil probably should have picked up on earlier.

Okay. Forget trying to coax them into letting him close enough to undo the binds and lead them back to town. The stranger was getting help whether they liked it or not.

Scurrying around the post, Virgil pulled his dagger and slit the restraints in one smooth movement, and then immediately swept in and plucked the human off the ground, lifting them up with the practiced strength of someone who regularly caught humans flinging themselves in his direction.

They responded with a distinctly-upset muffled protest, and a well-aimed kick to the gut.

“Don’t kick me with your injured leg, are you stupid?!” Virgil demanded through a wheeze, holding them out a little farther and twisting away from a second, much weaker kick. “Stop that!”

Deciding that making sure they didn’t bleed out took priority over trying to calm them down, he pulled some silk and wrapped it around the wound as best he could.

The stranger made a gargled hiss through the gag. Virgil hissed back absently, sticking the end of the webbing in place and deeming it a good enough placeholder bandage.

He readjusted so that he was carrying them more securely, an arm under their back and another wrapped around the crook of their knees, and hurried off towards the slowly-growing campsite where his humans were sleeping.

This was now officially an abduction; hopefully Roman wouldn’t get stabby about it.

[ruegarding]

Hey, quick question if you don't mind me asking, what were your thoughts on Chalice of the Gods?

overall, i wish rick stopped at toa like he said he was going to. the more rick adds, the more the world-building suffers as a result. that being said, i didn't completely hate cotg like i thought i would. there's a few good moments, but, in general, it reads like a cash-grab.

let's start with the good. percy has some of the most in-character moments he's had in the universe since pjo.

percy's confrontation w geras was so good that i actually wish this was part of percy's character arc in hoo. percy spent almost all of pjo knowing he was going to die—he saw the fates cut the string in tlt and in som he put together what the prophecy meant: he was going to die either at or before 16. and this is exactly why this confrontation works and why i think it's better than new rome. new rome can protect a demigod from monsters, not from fate. percy wasn't scared of monsters. if he was, he would've stayed at chb year-round.

and i really like that geras was willing to entertain percy bc he had turned down godhood. like the first time percy ever thinks abt immortality seriously (in botl) this is what he has to say:

so immortality is fundamentally at odds w percy's character bc he defines himself so thoroughly w the ppl he loves. and this is exactly what allows him to get through to geras! it's such a good exploration of percy's character and the future he's now able to consider.

similarly, this section

is more in-character than almost all of hoo. this is a prime example of how percy's loyalty works and addresses how it's misconstrued in fandom. percy has a desire for freedom, and that desire informs how he respects ppl. percy's loyalty isn't a possessive "i won't let you do this" bc he will, he will always let someone make their own choice at the end of the day bc it's what he would want. and this was actually established in tlt, when sally says "you're enough like me to understand" and asks percy to let her save herself. so percy lets bianca fight talus, he lets nico walk away, he gives luke the knife, he lets ganymede choose his own story, even when he disagrees w it. and this is why percy's arc in hoo sucked! rick tried to give percy the typical hero complex, but it's contradictory w percy's character. so when i saw this passage i was so relieved. i thought this part of percy died w pjo.

also, to talk abt someone other than percy, this moment

is good. i love this abt annabeth.

and grover saying the hardest thing is sitting by and not being able to do anything. bc grover is usually in a support role and he wasn't there at all in hoo. i also like that percy is confronted w the fact that he's not expendable. thumbs up from me.

the bad...i'm just going to keep short bullet points.

what even is this plot

it doesn't work as part of pjo and yet it's marketed as the sixth book in the series

why is zeus a disney villain. i hate everything abt it

the inconsistencies...annabeth's cap...why are we continuing to treat percy like he's disinterested in learning??? also. what do you mean you're not allowed at camp after you turn 18? WHAT DO YOU MEAN????? this was not a thing. and wasn't rhea in hiding or something?? now she's casually having brunch?

there's too much "percy is the stupid bf and annabeth is the competent gf who takes care of him." i hated every second of this. also annabeth is disabled. her being intelligent does not remove her disability. she struggles.

i rbed that post abt disaster cook annabeth and good cook percy and i stand by that.

the power monologue makes no damn sense (and another addition by op in the tags)

no seriously i'm begging someone to have a real conversation and understand percy is terrified of how powerful he is. i've been waiting for this since botl. WHICH WAS PUBLISHED IN 2008 BTW

i'm not a huge estelle or paul fan. like they're fine they're just not compelling.

the only time i feel sally and percy have the same connection as they had in tlt is when they're alone. this is a problem i've had for a while, but cotg does not fix it. when paul and annabeth are in the equation, it feels like percy is the outsider.

in summary, cotg is like a fanfic i would leave kudos for being a good percy character study despite having questionable moments. except it's canon. and these questionable things affect the world-building.

[sporksaber]

This idea has not fully formed in my brain yet, but dpxdc time reversal isekai. This'll be a bit disjointed so bear with me.

Danny phantom and DC are the same universe to start with. Danny goes darkest timeline (not in the dan way. Dan is boring. He does not exist for this purpose) after years of being legally not human and trying to run from the giw while the organizations that should of helped didn't.

In the original timeline he is found out in some horrible way and has to run. He is kidnapped by the giw. He frees himself and finds himself entangled with the batfam. Everything goes wrong, his tenuous relationship with them gets super messed up as none of them are in a good place, and danny is slowly dying. Eventually it all gets broken off.

Danny, completing his journey into insanity, kind of destroyes the universe. And on a little related tangent, when writing these kind of stories all powerful characters are hard to deal with. Characters like clockwork give me the ick because their pulling at the strings robs the characters of their agency and they often fall apart when you look at them critically. So I'm nerfing clockwork. He can see all the timelines, he can watch over them and prevent major fuckery, but he isn't just able to meddle as he pleases.

Like I said, Dan doesn't exist and the whole bit never happened (originally I said that because it's a lame plotline but now it has real reasons) so Danny's never met clockwork. Clockwork takes the burst of power from danny going nuclear and reverses the time stream.

Danny wakes up on the day the event that leads his parents to find out happens. He's unable to avoid it as he's confused and dissriented with a bunch of strange thoughts and images making his head feel fit to burst, but does avoid the giw while running away.

Onto discussions of a main plot point: the romance bc it's always there with time reversal isekais (and with my fics in general tbh). As I'm thinking about it it's hard to decide bc I recently read a bunch that annoyed me into disliking them all and made me step away from the cross over for awhile. But as I was thinking of what to write I came to a decision. I already have one of these for Tim, having it be damian would make all the other characters older than him and it doesn't fit the vibe I'm going for to have danny surrounded by a bunch of adults when he isn't quite one, Jason just isn't fitting in my head rn, so I'm making it Dick. (I did also consider bruce, but I didn't...

The ages I'm going off of: bruce 37 (27), dick 21 (11), Jason 18 (8), Tim 15 (5), Damien 10 (fetus.)

I'm torn. I like the concept of Bruce being the love interest better but i dont know if i like it more than Dick. Like I said, this idea came to me and I immidiently opened a a draft. The idea is not solidified. And as I think more about it, maybe bruce would be better. Because with crossover ships you can slap the timelines together however you want you can change the ages and ship characters as you see fit. My initial reason for not considering bruce was the ages and wanting all the kids to be around for the plot. So I'm going to do the math.

Danny gets his powers at 14. Gets away with only monsters of the week to deal with for the first year. Giw gets new funding and becomes a consistent problem into when he's 16. It's manageable for awhile. I'm going to say he deals with it well enough for them to pull back and regroup around when he turns 17. Six months later and The Incident happens and he's outed. He runs and in his panicked gets captured by the giw.

My initial plan (initial meaning first thought that occurred less than an hour ago) was for him to be kidnapped long enough to be thoroughly traumatized but not super long. Like a few months. And I'd thought his freeing himself might have somthing to do with them kidnapping Jason or somthing. And if I stick to that Dick works really well and I feel like there's some really good content in dick and danny ending up together.

With Bruce I'd have to adjust the timeline more. Both for my batfam agenda and to make it not icky. If bruce is going to be in his mid thirties danny needs to be a minimum of his mid 20s. So I think if I were to go with Bruce I'd extend the kidnapped time to like 2 years (so Danny's like 20) and have him spend some time in the ghost zone before coming back to mess up the giw? I don't know. I'm going to have to write some stuff physically.

This has gotten out of hand and now I'm confused and my head hurts. I think the difference in the decision in unstable young adult danny vs unhinged adult danny in the original time line.

And the other thing I have to consider is not just main timeline but post rewind attempt 2 timeline and how those ages fall.

Dick is easier because it'd be easier to not have to handle that mess. I could have what I want without worrying about an age gap. And I think they could be really compelling. Especially with the idea of Dick seeking out Danny to help Jason, the brother he thinks he failed. Their relationship is originally a will they won't they as Dick has to deal with his family being a mess and desperately not wanting to lose anyone again while danny is in a limbo between who he is and if he's human. And it doesn't work out. It blows up in their faces as circumstances tear them apart and force them to let go of eachother. And you get the forbidden romance trope as batman doesn't trust danny. And then danny loses his shit and everyone dies before the rewind.

I think after the rewind they'd restart quieter. Danny searches out a familiar person after running away. Dick had just become nightwing and set up in bludhaven. Jason is 14 and hasn't died yet. Maybe they'd meet organically. Danny is drawn to Gotham and ends up in bludhaven while skirting around it. He meets the new vigilante who he knows but he also knows he doesn't (his core remembers. The core always remembers). Dick finds himself drawn to this haunted guy he keeps running into, maybe it's his savior complex, maybe it's somthing else entirely. He figures he's some kind of meta, jumpy from escaping someone's experiments.

Eventually Danny will remember Jason. Dick brings him up and Danny's filled with dread. Dick thinks his reaction is wierd. But Jason is eventually saved.

If I were to write it this way I think I'd have a couple of different mystery plot likes that connect thematically but aren't actually connected. (A nightwing vigilante based one of mob bosses or whatever, Danny's whole deal, what the giw is up to, where their money comes from and how that's gotten on the jl radar). But that's all on that for now.

To summarize: they have a very turbulent relationship initially. Dick will eventually be forced to chose the bats over danny. Danny has not properly healed from the giw and slowly spins out of control. After the rewind it's a lot of Dick solving mysteries as Danny tries to heal. The plot would be majorly driven by Dick, Danny's is mostly internal.

Back to the bruce concept (reminder that these two concepts are not connected at all).

The thing with time reversals is that you have to decide in the beginning whether or not the reversal is seperate from the main characters original timeline or if it's continuous. Are they the age they were pre reversal or the age they were reversed to? How much of it do they retain?

With the Bruce option I matched it to bruce being like 6 years older than danny. So pre reversal danny shows up to investigate bruce when his connection to the al ghuls (10yo damien) is established. Danny is 30, jaded, and less human than the other version. He's been warped in a way. The torture was longer and he recovered in the zone. A lot of his friends and family died.

Some relationship stuff happens, some al ghul caused demon stuff happens, the world is destroyed, time is reversed.

I'm fudging the previous timeline a bit. Danny's reveal happens at 19 while he's still in amity taking a gap year to weigh his dreams against his responsibilities. The Incident happens. He's kidnapped for a few years. Escapes durring an expierenment that allows him to slip into the zone. Dedicates himself to destroying the giw.

Danny post reversal retains skills and knowledge but is still his 19 year old self. He returns to the day of the incident, is confused, gets outed, dips but escapes the giw. Goes to Vlad and demands money, resources, and a contract that makes him heir without the downsides of his shady practices. It's important to not at this point, danny is basically bluffing. The kid has no idea what's going on or if it'll work, but he spooks vlad enough for him to agree now, plan how to spin it in his favor later.

So Danny takes a bit to decompress from that shitshow.

Flash forward, bruce wayne notices he has a bit of a (new) stalker problem. Some guy he doesn't know (and Brucie Wayne knows everyone) starts showing up at all his galas and the charity events he goes to. 20 year old Danny Fenton, heir to Masters Enterprises.

Cue Romcom.

This would have a drastically different tone from the other version. Very fun and much lower stakes.

Anyway I'm done for now. I hope you enjoyed this 2 hour unedited rant. Might expand on both separately, I like them both.

[tyrantisterror]

Let me tell you a tale about how much of an easy mark I am.

Now, I buy a lot of frivolous shit to fill the gaping void of emptiness at the core of my being, enough to have whole shrines built to Charmander and Harley Quinn and whatnot.  But I do try to limit myself, I do!  I really do!  I try to only buy things when I have a reason to justify it, like my incredibly passionate love of Charmanders and women who would hurt me if we met in real life.

But sometimes, when the void is yawning really loud and my cash on hand is more abundant than any looming bills I have, I find myself browsing sites looking for, well, frivilous things to fill the void, and I generally manage to avoid buying most of what I find.  Generally.

So, this is Drevnar the dragon.  I found him while looking up the term “plush dragon.”  Drevnar is a nice-looking dragon on his own, but that wouldn’t have been enough to make me buy him.  No, I was, I am ashamed to say, convinced by... his marketing.

Like, here in this picture he’s listing his virtues for us with a cute little voice bubble.  Soft AND cuddly?  No wires or anything rigid?  Drevnar, you’re a dream come true!

And then look at that pic!  He’s a got a name!  A damn name!  This isn’t just generic dragon, this is my boi Drevnar!  Drevnar has a job to do, and in order to do it, he’s gotta take a leap!  What’s going to happen next?  I don’t know, there’s no Drevnar show, this isn’t a character from a movie or whatever, this is a wholly original dragon named Drevnar that Tiger Tale Toys is challenging ME to finish the story of!  I have to get him now, man, I can’t leave my boi Drevnar hanging!

So I bought Drevnar.  Fine, excusable, he’s a cute dragon.  It’s fine.  It’s fine.

...but then they got me AGAIN.

Tiger Tale Toys recently came out with Delilah the dragon.  Like Drevnar, she’s soft and has no wires or anything rigid.

Like Drevnar, she’s got a little open-ended story prompt that tugs at my dumb heart-strings.  And, most diabolically, she’s also described as being Drevnar’s BEST FRIEND.  His BEST FUCKING FRIEND.

Look at them!  Look at how cute they are together!  Look at how their styles don’t quite mesh but also do in a weird way!  Look at how much they love each other!  I can’t split them up!  I can’t keep Drevnar separated from his best goddamn friend, Delilah!

So I didn’t, because I’m a chump.

Fuck you, Tiger Tale Toys, you diabolical bastards.  Fuck you for briefly filling the yawning void of emptiness inside me twice in my lifetime.

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

Hello I was just wondering when chapter 2 of Careful creatures will drop! If there will be a chapter 2 at all, (I really hope there will be)

Ope, not me dropping off the face of the planet fic writing wise. The depreseeion really gets to you. Anyways, here's FINALLY, Chapter Two 💚💜❤️

Careful Creatures: Chapter Two

Ship(s): Hela x Agatha, Agatha x Wanda, Wanda x Hela, Hela x Agatha x Wanda

Summary: Three powerful beings broken down back to the start somehow find themselves brought together as they relearn themselves and each other.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: angst, descriptions of being burnt, mild gore, mention of sexual assault/non-con/rape, abuse of alcohol/alcoholism/addiction, amnesia, split personality but make it ✨magic✨

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI!

A/N: Please READ THE WARNINGS before proceeding. If this were on AO3 it would be rated E for explicit material later on in the series, and M for mature material for the heavy content this story deals with.

Hela groans, her head pounding.

The second thing she registers is how much pain the rest of her body is in.

“Sh…” A soft, sweet voice soothes. “You're going to be okay, let me finish cleaning out your wounds.”

Distrust immediately floods the goddess, but her limbs hardly even respond to her internal command, her fingers twitching pathetically as she tries to call forth for her twin blades.

She can't even get her eyes to open.

When a cool cloth is pressed against one of her numerous burns, she nearly whimpers, the pain cutting sharply through the duller agony she is in.

“I know it probably hurts.” The sweet voice says, tone gentle and quiet. “But at least it hopefully won't get infected. I don't know if you're awake or not, but I hope you can hear me either way and that it's helping.” A pause. “I like helping people, I think. It feels… That feels familiar.”

Hela’s head hurts too much for her to decipher what the voice means by that, and instead focuses on the rhythmic motions the cloth is making over her cracked and blistered skin.

More than anything, once the sharp bite of pain fades, the coolingness of it soothes the way Hela still feels as if her skin is aflame, burning and burning and burning.

An unconscious whine slips from her lips when there's a pause, and the sweet voice shushes her again.

“I'm just dipping it into the water again. I'm trying to be very careful, these wounds look pretty bad.”

Hela has enough of her thoughts together to keep herself from whining again, but just barely.

Her lips do part in a throaty sigh of relief as she feels the cloth once more resuming its motions across her heated skin, but the action makes her aware of just how thirsty she is.

“W’er.” She attempts to croak out.

It hurts. Her throat hurts so bad, like the rest of her.

“Hm?” The voice hums in question.

“Wa-er.” Hela tries to carefully pronounce, but her tongue and mouth are so dry, she can't get the ‘t’ sound out.

“Oh, yes! Of course.” The sweet voice sounds… Embarrassed, perhaps? “Let me prop you up, so you don't choke.”

Hela nearly whimpers again as soft hands grasp at her, her skin still feeling as if it's on fire, and the pain spikes as she's manhandled into a more upright position.

How low she has fallen.

No family, no friends, no allies.

None but whoever the voice belongs to.

When water drips down onto her lips, she parts them and greedily sucks down the water being tipped into her mouth.

It hurts to swallow, but everything will hurt worse if she doesn't.

A sigh of relief expels itself after a few minutes, and Hela can feel her head loll back.

“You can rest.” The voice says. “I won't leave.”

Distrusting as Hela generally is, she has no choice but to trust.

If she wasn't suddenly flooded with exhaustion, she would be furious at how helpless she has become.

As it is though, she can barely conjure two words in her mind to string together.

She falls back to darkness.

—»•«—

She leans against the kitchen counter, letting the other woman ransack the cabinets in search of coffee as she smiles viciously, enjoying the enraged yelling coming from the other room.

“Seriously, where's the coffee.”

“You'd have better luck just grabbing a beer, dear.” She replies. “Or a cooler.”

Darcy Lewis lets out an exasperated sigh.

“You can drop the flirty neighbor routine, I just saw you beat up, like, six different guys.”

Agatha huffs, and doesn't deign to respond.

Ralph shouts another threat.

“You're gonna have to do something else with him. You can't just keep him tied up forever.”

Agatha shrugs carelessly.

“Take him into custody for all I care.”

“Oh, um. I don't exactly work with S.W.O.R.D. anymore. Or… Any government branch.” Darcy mumbles.

She quirks a brow, and Darcy blushes harder.

“They might've put Dickward into prison, but they said that crashing a vehicle into him was ‘reckless’ and ‘needlessly risky’.”

“Of course they did.” Agatha snorts. “This is why I've stayed under the radar.”

“You mean until you thought trying to kill a wanted fugitive was gonna be beneficial for you.”

The older woman scowls.

“That was not what I was trying to do.”

“Sure looked like it.”

Agatha scowls harder and distinctly does not look in the direction of any alcohol.

…

Fuck.

She pushes herself away from the counter and opens the freezer, pulling out a margarita mix pack.

“Um.” Darcy sounds a bit startled, looking up from where she's crouched, victoriously clutching at the canister of coffee she finally found. “Do you really think more alcohol is a good idea?”

She ignores the other woman, and wobbles a little as she begins to walk around the kitchen, pulling the various things she needs to make the drink to her liking.

“Agatha..?”

“Agnes, hot stuff! I don't know why people keep trying to call me Agatha!” She smiles brightly, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Darcy seems frozen while Agnes whirls around the kitchen, determinedly ignoring the shouting coming from the other room.

The bubbly woman continues to smile with false brightness as she places the finishing touches on her drink, shrugging good-naturedly when Darcy shakes her head at the offered second glass Agnes holds out to her.

“More for me, dear!” She laughs, before taking a long drink from the first.

“I, um… Hot water?” Darcy asks weakly.

Agnes’s face shifts into a slight scowl that's gone almost as soon as it appears.

“You'll have to boil a pot.” Her tone is pointedly not cheery, and she drains the first cup of alcohol in her hand before moving on to the second.

Darcy steps in her way when she moves to grab another mix.

“I don't think more is a good idea.” The other woman says, flinching nervously as Ralph bellows again.

Agnes trembles slightly and tries not to let her anger get the best of her.

Being angry meant making mistakes and making mistakes meant getting punished.

“It's just a little something to help with the day!” Agnes attempts.

“How about some coffee instead?” Darcy offers.

Agnes does truly scowl now, and she crosses her arms.

“You’re in my home, dear.”

Darcy latches on to that.

“Yeah, exactly. I'm your guest. It wouldn't be polite of you to get smashed while I'm here.”

Agnes’s scowl deepens for a split second before a forced smile returns to her face.

“You're right, hon! I'll take some coffee too if that's what you want to have. Just make mine an Irish.” Agnes throws in a wink for good measure.

Ralph yells a string of crude words from the other room and both women exchange a glance.

“Maybe we should gag him,” Darcy suggests.

Agnes shudders.

“I– no. No, thank you, dear. I don't want my fingers anywhere near his mouth.”

Darcy very clearly decides not to ask.

Not that Agnes would have answered.

Ralph… Well, he is her husband.

Her husband who gave his friends permission to have sex with her. Who didn't care if she wanted that or not.

Agnes hisses with pain as a stabbing pain shoots across her head, right behind her left eye.

“I… I think I'm going to go lay down for a spell, dear.” She mumbles, not completely aware of her surroundings anymore. “I suddenly don't feel so well.”

Agnes doesn't know if Darcy answers her or not. Her ears are buzzing too much to.

—»•«—

…an…y…u…e…ar…me…?

—»•«—

Wanda sits and watches the mysterious woman diligently, her eyes roving over the places where her outfit is torn and burnt.

Pale skin is marred by angry red, and in some cases, a blackened soot color that only causes her to feel nauseated with guilt and fear.

She doesn't know why.

Raven locks, shining nearly blue, are a knotted, tangled mess, the long, straight strands seemingly determined to create a bird’s nest.

Wanda doesn't doubt that well taken care of, her mystery woman would be very, very beautiful.

Her heart twists painfully, and she scowls.

Her memory refuses to return, but not the echoes of the emotions. It's impossible for Wanda to make sense of what she's feeling without the memories attached to why she would be inclined to feel a certain way about any specific thing.

It's stupid.

She groans and thunks her head gently back against the tree trunk she's sitting against.

She hopes the pale woman wakes up again soon.

Wanda is beginning to feel restless, a creeping dread slowly overcoming her.

She doesn't know why, only that something in her, deep down, is pushing her, tugging her feet somewhere not here.