#what I would write

[wildlyglittering]

made up title- "I would never fall in love again until I found her"

Hello!

Before Christmas I asked for people to send me a fic title and I would say what Nessian fic I would write for it. Here is the one for 'I Would Never Fall in Love Again, Until I Found Her.'

Read under the cut!

Key word here is ‘again’ so I’m taking that to mean that Cassian was once in love with someone before.

This would be an alternative Prythian. Cassian is an Illyrian warrior but these Illyrian’s don’t have wings though they are considered fae and very long living. In this version of the world, Cassian is sent on a mission through Illyria which takes him months – the purpose of which is to find a witch who lives in the isolated regions of the Illyrian mountains.

Cassian doesn’t know why he needs to find her and what the purpose is but he’s loyal to his Commander and, at this time, a foot soldier who does what he’s told. There is another group, this time of fae, who are also seeking the witch for purposes unknown and there is a bit of a set-to on the mountains between Cassian and this group and Cassian is injured.

Although Cassian is slipping out of consciousness, he is fully aware of a figure standing over him looking pretty pissed off. When he comes to, he realises he’s in the bowels of a cave system but in a chamber which has been made to be pretty cozy.

His companion who saved him on the mountains is a young and beautiful woman, highly Nesta coded who is irritated because Cassian essentially fell into what was one of her cave gardens.

She recognises him as Illyrian and isn’t happy about that and admits she hoped he would die on the mountains as she’s taken a vow to help anyone injured. Because Cassian is alive but harmed, her vow means she had to take him in and take care of him.

Cave contained hijinks ensure.

By this I mean Cassian is attracted and riles her ups as much as possible and it’s clear the witch is also attracted and gets riled up way too easy. Cassian heals, she does the healing and Cassian recuperates in the cave while Nesta continues to look after him and live her day-to-day life.

They grow closer and Cassian shares his troubles about growing up an orphaned Illyrian and she tells Cassian that she is the last of three witch sisters, of the previous two one was killed and the other inadvertently summoned a demon resulting in a rather destructive possession. Said demon possessed second sister is still alive, whereabouts unknown.

She also says that when witches die they remain dead for a hundred years but depending on the nature of the witch, they may be reincarnated into a new form.

They get all sorts of romantic obviously but the time has come when Cassian needs to leave. He goes with a promise to the witch that he will return and won’t say a single word to anyone about having found her.

When he returns to the Illyrians, he makes up some story about surviving alone on the mountains which they seem to believe.

Cassian heads back to the mountains encountering another group of fae on the way, this time he gets the upper hand and kills the group but as one lies dying, he tells Cassian to not let the Illyrians find the last witch.

Turns out the fae want to find the last witch in order to seek her help from multiple Illyrian attacks in their Court and in turn offer her protection but they could never find her.

Cassian returns to the witch’s cave where they both embrace but – uh, oh – some stealthy Illyrians who never believed Cassian’s story have followed him and discovered her. They both try and escape but are eventually surrounded.

Turns out the Illyrians have the demon possessed sister who has been working with them all along, utilising magic to make the Illyrians more powerful and to help them destroy the fae cities and homes.

The witch manages to kill her sister but knowing the demon will want to take possession of her, she allows it too but performs a heroic sacrifice resulting in her death and the demon going back to hell.

Cassian grieves and is shunned by the Illyrian’s, cast out for eternity but he eventually settles in one of the fae cities and befriends a group of fae living with them as happily as he can.

Over the decades, the fae cities grow and the Illyrian boundaries shrink. A new species called ‘humans’ are discovered with an even smaller boundary but the fae and humans have a political relationship where they work together.

Just over a hundred years have passed (let’s go with 125 for fun) and Cassian is present when a new envoy of human emissaries from the regions arrives. They introduce themselves in order and the final one removes her cloak and introduces herself as Nesta.

Cassian is startled by the physical resemblance she has to his lost love and as their eyes meet, her face slips into one of recognition...

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[sylvies-kablooie]

i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.

[rexalogy]

Every Taylor Swift song

[frownyalfred]

want your favorite author to update but don’t want to be too pushy in their comment section?

here’s 5 things you can do to encourage them:

Reblog their fic link on tumblr (bonus if it’s with tags)

Bookmark the fic with a note about what you’re excited about/love in the fic

Recommend the fic to your friends or local discord channel

Draw art or create other media for the fic (as indicated by the author’s comfort level)

Leave them a comment when re-reading about the parts of the chapter/story that stood out to you the second time

[ronanlynchbf]

tshirt that says NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY

[ghostbsuter]

He'd been flying above Metropolis.

Like a good ghost! Doing nothing but relax! Enjoying the weather, really.

It was so cool, Superman came up to him, they talked even! Superman was very, very, uncomfortable when Danny mentioned he was kinda dead.

It was really awesome.

Yeah, the keypoint being was.

Now? Now he is in Superman's arms, very much alive after being hit by a stray beam from Lex Luthors newest invention, quite literally hit from the sky when he didn't expect it and out of f reflex turned back human.

"I'm... alive?" He jokes weakly, smiling awkwardly at Superman's stare.

Danny considered this awkward.

Clark was processing the fact Lex Luthor somehow managed to bring back someone from death, his hands now full of said miracle and—

Shit, does the kid even have family left? What's he going to tell Lois!?

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[hailsatanacab]

Family Dinners - dpxdc

"Holy shit, you're Bruce Wayne!" Danny gaped, jabbing a finger at the man sitting at the head of the table.

The bustling dining room goes silent as everyone turns to look at him.

"Danny, who did you think was going to be here?" Tim asks, disbelief plain in his voice and Danny feels his face flush red.

"Sorry, I, uh, I guess I just never put it together. Tim Drake-Wayne. Wayne Manor. It, uh, makes sense now." He laughs sheepishly and scrubs at his neck before slumping back down into his chair.

"Well," Tim says with an indulgent sigh, "at least I know you're not just friends with me for my connections."

"Yeah, I'm really sorry, I just never thought about it, I guess."

Danny sinks lower as everyone around him laughs. Come to dinner, he said, the food is the best, he said, ignore the family, he said. Danny really wishes he'd listened to Tim and just ignored them—almost as much as he's regretting accepting the offer in the first place—but... he's having dinner with Batman.

Ancients, that's so weird!

The last time he saw Batman was in the future and, suffice it to say, it was not going well. There hadn't really been time for family dinners there.

Wait. Family dinners?

He peers around the table, openly gawking at everyone as it all clicks into place.

"Everything alright, Danny? Now realising who everyone else is?" Tim asks with a roll of his eyes.

"Uh... something like that..." Danny mumbles as everyone laughs again.

From further down the table, the smallest Wayne scoffs and clicks his tongue.

"I thought you said he was smart, Drake?"

"So, you all do it, too, then?" he asks, ignoring the jibe. Danny's only a little bit jealous as he thinks of how much easier they must have it, how much easier it'd be if his family had been on his side, too. "You all work together?"

"Nah," Dick says from across the table with a brilliant grin. "Tim's the only one that works with Bruce, we all have different jobs. I'm a police officer in Bludhaven."

"Disgusting." Danny blurts out without thinking—because seriously, what kind of self-respecting vigilante would also be a police officer?—before clapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry."

The whole table laughs again, the loudest being the blonde girl a few spaces down from Dick. Look, Danny wasn't really paying attention to names when they were all paraded in front of him. Dick only gets remembered because his name is a joke.

Come on, Danny, recover!

"That's, uh, not what I meant, though."

"Oh?" Dick asks, cocking his head slightly to the side. Is it Danny's imagination or does his smile tense slightly?

"Yeah, I mean like, you know, in costume. It must make it so much easier to have everyone together like this."

"Costume? What do you mean?"

Yeah, Danny's not imagining it, everyone tenses up at that. It's really only now that he's realising that this probably isn't how he should bring up that he knows about their... night time activities. In fact, he probably shouldn't be bringing it up at all.

"Uuhhh..." Danny looks wildly around the table as he continues making his stupid noise. Think, think, think! There must be a way out of this!

"Danny?" Tim asks, looking concerned.

"Oh, Ancients, this isn't how I wanted it to go at all," he mutters, slipping even further into his chair. He's almost on the floor now and he so, so wishes it could just swallow him up.

His real first meeting with Batman was meant to be cool! He had planned to be Phantom, maybe save them from a tight spot, prove his worth as a mysterious and powerful ally as thanks for the help Batman gave him in the future.

"Danny, what are you talking about?" Tim starts tugging on his sleeve in an attempt to pull him back up from his pit of despair.

Eventually, Danny relents and sits up straighter, hiding his face in his hands and whining all the while.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't expect him to be here and it threw me off so now I look stupid and it's so embarrassing!" he wails, flailing his arms wide. "Why wouldn't you warn me that Batman was your adopted dad, Tim? Couldn't you have let me know?"

"I'm sorry, what? Danny are you alright? There's no way Bruce can be Batman, look at him!"

"Yeah," the blonde girl laughs from the bottom of the table, "look at him! That's a wet noodle of a man! Batman can actually do things, B is incapable of pretty much everything."

"Thank you, Stephanie," Bruce sighs, massaging his forehead.

It's... Those are the first words Danny's heard Batman say since everything went down and it's enough to knock him out of his embarrassment.

It's really good to hear his voice again. Especially now, when it's strong and healthy and full of personality—even if that personality is little more than a tired father right now—far better than how it had been, at the end.

Danny sits up, back straight, and grins. He's got this. He remembers it perfectly. Some people count sheep to fall asleep, Danny repeats his mantra to be certain that he'll never forget it.

"Gamma alpha upsilon tau iota mu epsilon, 42, 63, 28, 1 colon 65 dash 9."

Once again, the whole table falls into silence.

"Holy shit..." breathes the other D name (Duke? Danny's pretty sure he's Signal) from opposite Stephanie. "Isn't that...?"

"The time travelling code." The littlest Wayne says stiffly. "We have met in the future?"

"That's not just the time travelling code, Dami." Dick says, looking between Danny and Bruce. "That's the family time travelling code."

Danny's grin freezes in place.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"1 colon 65 dash 9." Dick explains, still flicking between him and Bruce. "It means you've been adopted into the family and we should all treat you as such, no questions asked."

"Tell you what, I'm about to ask a question." Danny says, dumbstruck. "You just told me it was a code to identify time travellers, not anything about being adopted! What the hell, B?"

Bruce looks about as shellshocked as Danny feels.

"We must have been close," he says finally, after opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water a few times.

"No! Not that close!" Danny reels back, taking a deep breath ready to refute it all, but... "Well, I mean, you found me when I first got stuck, and you helped me get better despite being... And then we fought together against the, uh, bad guy, before he, um, he... before you couldn't."

An uncomfortable beat passes while they all pick up on what Danny tried so hard not to say.

"So, you're not from the future, then, you travelled there and came back?" Tim asks, breaking the tension and leaning forward with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, it was a whole end of the world thing, but don't worry about it," Danny says with a hand wave, "It's all kosher now, won't ever happen."

"What did happen?"

"Seriously, don't worry about it, we cool."

"How long in the future was it?"

"About ten years? You were pretty spry for an old man, B," Danny laughs, wishing they'd get off the topic of what happened and get back to the adoption bit.

Everyone shares degrees of a cautious smile as they relax out of the shock, and Dick—whose grin is the biggest—says, "No wonder you got the family code, you're already riffing on him like one of us. How long were you there for?"

"A week, before I managed to get back to my present and stop him then."

"A week? Jeez, B, that has to set some kind of record, seriously."

"Oh!" Danny says, sitting bolt upright and blinking in surprise before pointing at Dick and bouncing in his seat. "You're Nightwing!"

"What?"

"That's exactly what Nightwing said when Batman told me the code! Makes so much more sense now."

Dick laughs and claps his hands, delighted.

"You were not formally adopted?" The grumpy small one—Dami?—asks, his face pinched.

"I didn't even know I was informally adopted."

"And your parents? Are they alive or dead?"

"Damian, stop—"

"They were dead in the future, but they're alive now." Danny says, looking down. He fiddles with the tablecloth, twisting the fabric around his fingers as he fights down the pang of sadness that he always feels when he thinks of them now. He forces a bright smile on his face and hopes it doesn’t look too strained. "I just, uh, can't talk to them much, anymore."

"Damian," Dick warns, "1 colon 65 dash 9. Treat them as family, no questions asked."

"This is Damian treating him as family, the little turd has no manners." Tim scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he gently bumps shoulders with Danny to knock him out of his funk. Danny can't help but send him a watery smile.

"I have the most exemplary manners, Drake, unlike some people." Damian spits, crossing his arms with a pout. "I was merely ascertaining his status to see how he could possibly fit into the family."

"I know this is all a bit sudden, Danny," Bruce smiles, ignoring Damian and reaching out to lay a warm hand on his arm, "for all of us. But if I felt strongly enough to give you that code after spending a week with you in the future, then you are more than welcome in this family, if you so choose it. I think I can speak for all of us when I say we'd like to get to know you a bit more."

"I know a threat when I hear it, Bruce." Danny snorts. "But, yeah, I get it. I'm sorry this is all so weird, it really wasn't how I wanted to find you again, but... I'm glad I did."

"So are we, Danny." Dick says, with a warm smile. "And formally or not, 1 colon 65 dash 9 means you're family. Welcome to the fun house! No take backs or refunds, sorry. You're stuck with us."

[noknowshame]

always a fun time when real life people are doomed by their own narratives. like guys you know it doesn’t have to be like this right? this isn’t a stageplay the foreshadowing isn’t real until you make it real

[zosanbrainrot]

part 2 of Zoro in WCI

01 02 03 04

I tried to write something to sum up my thoughts on this, but then it got longer and longer and tbh I'm itching to write a fic set in this AU djjdkf I think I could develop on their inner feelings more than in the comic form

Before posting the first part I didn't realize people had such strong opinions on how this would play out lmaooo

imo, of course Zoro wants to fight Sanji, not with actual intent to harm (they threaten each other on the daily, come on), but because that's how they are together, how they communicate. He respects Luffy's decisions and their goal here, which is to learn what's really going on with Sanji, but he's gonna be pissy about it all he wants. They both have so many intense and conflicted feelings about this and neither has any idea how to resolve them. So they fight.

ofc yall are free to headcanon this interaction any other way you want <333

[wildlyglittering]

What would you write for "Hello, General"?

So I asked for people to give me a made up title and I would reply with what I would write for Nessian.

Please read below!

Hello, General

This would be a very brief one shot (not that I write brief) told from Cassian’s POV and set in Prythian as we know it.

There is a war – as par for the course at this point – and Rhys has sent the Inner Circle and associated assortment of fae on various missions. Some are diplomatic (Mor, Nesta, Elain), others are information gathering (Amren, Azriel, Feyre), and Cassian is sent to do what he does best – lead the now conjoined armies of the Illyrian camps.

It’s been a long winter and Cassian is exhausted. He’s been making strategic plans, drafting reinforcements, and training and re-training those under his command. It’s been months since he’s felt like he’s even a functioning individual as his days move from frost bitten, cold, hard grounds into blizzard filled, cold, hard nights with only a fire to keep him warm.

He’s in contact with his friends and allies, parchments being sent here, there, and everywhere and Rhys has visited at the camp a few times to oversee progress and provide Cassian with some company.

The company Cassian longs for the most however is Nesta’s and their communication has gotten more infrequent and less detailed the longer the war has gone on.

Both are clearly busy and tired and what were once pages upon pages of each other’s days, conversations they had with others, gossip about their frenemies, and scandalously comprehensive reams of erotic depictions of their bedroom activities has now turned into paragraphs or just sentences to re-affirm to the other that yes, they are still alive, and that they love and miss the other.

After a recent and gruelling week of training including Cassian dealing with some obnoxious upstarts who are furious that female Illyrians have a place amongst the males, Cassian enters his tent to find a piece of parchment on the table.

His hopes are high but finds that the parchment is one of his sent to Nesta a week before and the new word scribed on the front merely says ‘undelivered.’

Cassian panics, thinking that Nesta has been kidnapped or worse. Without sending any messages ahead, he flies non-stop to the House of Wind to find out directly from Rhys what is happening, ready to pay any price that is requested.

When he arrives Rhys states that to his knowledge Nesta is well, having sent Feyre a message that very morning.

Cassian is now confused and slightly sulky – why is Nesta sending Feyre’s messages but his are coming back undelivered? He flies back to the camps, his brain over analysing every previous message he has sent, wondering if he has offended Nesta. He also thinks if there is anything he missed – did Nesta tell him she was going to another Court or to the continent?

He arrives back at the camp, barking out demands for others to step up in his absence as he now prepares himself to fly over the world to find Nesta. Cassian steps into his tent and there, seated at the table with her travel items already unpacked and ready to stay for what looks like a while is Nesta.

She smiles at him as he rushes over and greets him with, “Hello, General.”

[podcast-hemocytoblast]

What if when Michael got Distortioned he/they/it/(?) had just kept showing up to work? Imagine Gertrude comes into the archives and finds a bunch of paperwork filled out in yellow highlighter and folded into impossible shapes, and then Michael-Distortion just walks into the room door-style and sits down at his work computer so it can email Gertrude a phishing scam.

[kingofmyborrowedheart]

Begging swifties to understand that Taylor didn’t write reputation and Lover with the knowledge of how the relationship was going to end and that trying to “excavate” those albums for evidence to prove a specific theory as to why it ended is not how they should be viewed. Taylor wrote those songs feeling a very specific way because that’s what she was experiencing and she is now reflecting on them with hindsight and relates to them differently than when she first created them. These conflicting emotions can exist; how she views it now doesn’t diminish how she felt about it when she first released it.

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[tinukis]

day 5 - little brother

so incredibly self indulgent but yeah anyway... little brother w his three older brothers

(please more asl + uta/asul bros please)