#dramatic but i cannot

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

#i feel like I'm going to reread this and want to add other stuff #but I also just want to post it and get it out there #fun fact i scribbled a bunch of lines down at 2am bc i didn't want to forget them #im bad at multiple drafts #my writing #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #danny phantom #batman #i live to make everybody dramatic #but also i subscribe to a world where clockwork doesn't know how NOT to be dramatic #lol he's a ghost from all of time he doesn't know how to speak to humans and tailor it to the century let alone the decade #and his favorite little girl who calls him clocky loves how he speaks so #he doesn't need to change for nobody #nor feels inclined to #also I feel like as god he's way more inclined to threaten to get what he wants than like...be vulnerable #jazz: let's unpack that #clockwork: we never do #jazz: are you saying that because it's true or because that's what you want to be true? #clockwork: ... #also I cannot take credit for BITCH I MIGHTWING #wish i could #that is cash money right there #shoutout to 11thsense

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

he is just. so shaped. so so so So shaped.

#im Attempting some new tactics #it doesnt really show! but i am! #starting to fuck around w/ watercolor brushes... #holding him up like a little bee and saying I Just Think He's Neat! #< i jest! i think much much more about him #that i cannot share without devolving into an incoherent mess! #so. i just think he's neat :]c #scribble salad #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #frank frankly #im also trying... to do... (dramatic thunderclap) BACKGROUNDS #i know i know. very scary. they're still very messy #but... i like objects? i like Things? i like to look at a page and see put together clutter! #maximalism babey! #which is deadly when you're an artist methinks. but. whats one more agony added onto the rest! #it will be a while until i figure out how to Accomplish that put-together clutter.... #im still bad at colors! im trying to swim before i can walk! Yikes!

[jestroer]

I never actually posted this little thing didn't I

They're in bed, boys!

Also, was very much inspired by this beautiful thing by @theminecraftbee

#i did want to make it all dramatic with actual wolves and stuff but i cannot draw wolves #so they are just little guys and jimmy looks haubted by the horrors #jimmy solidarity #solidarity gaming #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #grian #limlife #limited smp #limited life #court jester's art #scopophobia

[queerfables]

My two cents on Aziraphale's "I forgive you" is that he was straightforwardly lashing out. He knows how little Crowley wants to be forgiven. He knows because Crowley just told him. Crowley rejects forgiveness so absolutely that he rejects Aziraphale right along with it. It's the whole fight in a microcosm: Aziraphale standing there offering forgiveness and Crowley saying, I don't want it.

So maybe the words are Aziraphale showing he finally understands Crowley. He knows now that "I forgive you" is the very worst thing he could say to Crowley. That's why he says it. That's how he means it.

#good omens #good omens meta #there might be different nuances to this if you assume there was something more going on in their fight #but i think this is the face value reading of the line #and any alternative explanations have to start here #look it's just if you watch his face he settles on ANGRY before he says it #he says i forgive you but he doesn't mean i forgive you #he means *fuck you* #i also think this ties in very well to his opening image of forgiving Maggie's rent #in an opening and closing image you want to show change you want to dramatically contrast where the character is at #we open with Aziraphale forgiving thousands of pounds without a thought #saying 'I'm very good at forgiveness' #and we close on him facing something he cannot forgive #(in that moment. obviously he and crowley will reconcile.) #fable talks good omens

[cryptidcharlie]

shhh... they're talking...

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #the admiral #tma fanart #babes i apparently CANNOT draw cats as well as i thought #but wanted to draw a less... dramatic... jon #magnus pod #jon sims #s3 jon #also sorry this has the worst res ever lmfao #my art

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Vine_Boom.mp3

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#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #song lan #a-qing #xiao xingchen #xue yang #The scene where Song lan sees Xue Yang is supposed to be dark and dramatic but there's something about the whiplash of emotions- #-that makes me lose my mind!! That's *HIS* bestie!!! Back off bitch!! #Poor guy wandering around for years looking for his amiguito only to find him with the guy that split you apart in the first place #XY wasn't even trying to flaunt it on purpose. He was just vibing with XXC at the wrong time. #I also love A-qing for being quick on the uptake that these two are so similar its practically like a mirror image. #This also mirrors song lan's first/last appearance with the bff sundae. XY finally gets his revenge (having a domestic life with a bff). #((XXC has no idea what the t-shirt says. He just needed a spare. I like to think XY sewed and embroidered it personally)) #I will get into my xue yang thoughts more later but...man I will always wonder how things would have gone if song lan never showed up #xxc never should have run away (out of shame for causing SL harm). It was always going to cause more harm... #Dont worry SL. XXC still misses you. Some bonds cannot be broken even if time and distance pull you apart.

[wendybergmann]

the shot of nate being stopped in his tracks seeing ted and trent talk is making me mental because we as an audience know that nate leaked ted's mental health to trent. nate wanted to be an anonymous source so he probably didn't piece together that ted knows what he did because ted hasn't really confronted nate about it and not many people know the full story of what went down so it hasn't spread around (the team just now know about the sign being torn in half). nate couldn't make amends for his accidental slight in not shaking ted's hand because he couldn't face the deeper hurt he has caused to the man he looked up to, who was one of the first to see his potential

#ted lasso #text #mackenzie speaks #nate shelley #trent crimm #ted lasso really took the miscommunication trope but made it for a platonic relationship and i love them for it #nate and ted need to sit down and hash it all out and its not lost on me that the underlying vibe this whole episode was them needing to #talk but for one reason or the other things got in the way #honestly i keep expecting things to go v dramatic and ted leaking the cam footage to the press #i forgot what show im watching lmao #nate cannot stand ted not lashing out or fighting back so unless im wrong and nate knew ted knew before this #i can see it bothering him like how ted didnt insult nate when nate was talking shit #ted lasso spoilers

[thefrogdalorian]

Din Djarin + Chapter 1: The Mandalorian

#din djarin #the mandalorian #star wars #pedro pascal #the mandalorian gifs #swedit #din gifs #din edits #my edits #my gifs #not to be dramatic but this scene altered my brain chemistry #and one day i cannot wait to make gifs showing the parallels when Din rides the mythosaur AAAAAH #gorgeous kind caring patient man even if he's a bit stROPPY I LOVE HIM #ajhgkldjk;l';

[moderndaypandora]

The LAYERS needed in a modern/human Dreamling au.  Some level of Endless family dysfunction, obviously.  Hob's family can be be dead or not, it's all good. Are they old enough to have individually gained the awareness they are off-puttingly intense and should hide it a bit at first, or still in that "no, why would I need to Elsa this" stage?

Option A is both of them trying to play it cool, like "don't scare him off" except they so badly want to go from zero to sixty.

(Death and Desire have ruthlessly drilled Dream with flashcards about how to react appropriately in situations.

Desire: it's your one-month anniversary, what do you do?

Dream: [hesitantly] NOT propose?

Desire and Death, conferring, because that's technically correct but the delivery was suspect.

Death, encouragingly: Good start. And?


Dream: a nice dinner and maybe a walk?

Desire: well done!

Death: and for a three-month anniversary?


Dream: give them a key to my flat.

Desire: [airhorn] NO. RED CARD.)

Option B makes them the classic anecdotal "my grandparents got engaged within seven days of meeting each other and still are happy together".

(Death, rubbing her temples: so you met this guy--

Dream: Hob

Death: -- Hob, and within 1 day you gave notice to the Registrar's Office and figured out the best day to get married. And Hob agreed to this?

Dream: NO.

Death: oh thank go-

Dream: Hob SUGGESTED this.

Death: . . .

Dream: are you going to be a witness or not?

Death, 29 days later in the Registrar's Office, to Hob's witness: Is he sane?

Johanna Constantine, drinking heavily from a large flask: unfortunately yes, by all legal definitions.

Death: fuck

Johanna: [passing the flask over] if your brother's even a tenth as intense as Hob, they'll be fine. Probably.

Death, brightening: Is Hob that bad?


Johanna: You know how sometimes you meet somebody and think "oof, they're a bit much, best give them a wide berth"?


Death: yeah.

Johanna: Hob's like a camouflaged hole in the ground of muchness. Except he's done the hole up all nice and he knows that sometimes you just want to be left alone in the hole to sulk and rattle the spikes for a bit, and occasionally get a F&M hamper tossed in.

Death: [hmmmmmmm'ing approvingly]

Johanna, morose: the bastard.

In the background, Hob and Dream are pressing their foreheads together and basking in each other's presence)

#dreamling #the sandman #it's underappreciated how many red flags hob probably is buried under his amiable exterior #he looked at dream of the endless and went 'yeah' #not even as a 'i can make him better' #very much as a 'i can vibe with his current state and frankly even if he was worse i'd still be like that's my husband [shrug emoji]' #'what am i supposed to do? i knew who he was when i married him' #everybody around them: [extremely done with their shit] STOP ENABLING HIM #hob: he's my goth sweetheart #dream's entire family: he's ten sulking cats in eyeliner and a dramatic coat #hob: i know :D i love him! #johanna constantine is like 'hob's insane' #and everybody's going 'oh no don't be so mean he's just a little boring next to dream' #johanna: he saw dream being dream and went 'i need to stamp my name on him. how do i permanently tie us together' #johanna: he'd never safety pin a condom but i can just see the gears turning in hob's head about how to get to spend more time with dream #johanna: just radiating smug contentment over his insane wet cat #hob: i cannot wait to spend the next 60 years with that man #hob: and ideally die in our sleep together still holding hands #death and johanna: [staring at him over their fourth round of drinks] #dream: [heart of eyes and pink of cheeks] #dream: we should never not be holding hands #hob: okay but what if occasionally we stop holding hands just to then appreciate the feeling of starting to hold hands again #dream: [mulling] acceptable #death and johanna could probably start an entire benefriends or actual romantic relationship entirely based on judging dreamling

[realbeefman]

house is all id, impulse and reckless behavior and selfishness, and wilson is all superego, overthinking and moral judgement and selflessness, and together they act as the other's ego. house wants to biopsy a patient to stop his own pain, wilson tells him he's going to cross a line if he does. wilson wants to tell the world how he's justified the taboo of euthanasia, house steps in to tell him he'll ruin his life if he does. ultimately, this is why they fall apart when separated from each other, why wilson is miserable when he tries to cope with amber's death without house.

wilson will always try to be more selfish, to care less, wish that he was more like house, and house will always wish the inverse, that he is capable of caring as deeply as wilson does, that his own empathy ran as deep as wilson's. but in the end, they are both incapable of embodying those traits they admire in the other on their own. they can only truly function together.

this is the point in the show, for me, where it becomes clear that house and wilson have been set up as star-crossed lovers. it's only here, in 8 x 21, that they both accept fully who they are to each other. they have both accepted that they will only be able to be happy together, that only through acknowledging how they complete each other will either of them be able to be fulfilled in life. the tragedy is that they have only been able to find life at death. the price for their happiness together is the looming inevitability of wilson's death

anyways. rest in peace sigmund freud you would’ve loved analyzing house md yaoi

#writing ‘this is the point when’ like AHA! THE MIDPOINT GAY TWIST!!!! #i need to make one of those web-weavings comparing them to other famous literary couples #i need to be dramatic about this medical drama i CANNOT BE NORMAL ABOUT IT I AM INCAPABLE OF IT #can we make a name for hilson fanatics like how macdennis fanatics call themselves “locusts�� #we should have a name like that... we deserve it... #house md #gregory house #james wilson #hilson #meta? is this meta? im never clear on what is and isnt #house md meta #hilson meta #hate crimes md

[bellepark]

bonus— a dramatic yamato;

I want you to be happy, Yamato.

KIMI NI WA TODOKANAI 君には届かない (2023)

#kimi ni wa todokanai #i cannot reach you #maeda kentaro #kashiwagi haru #userdramas #jdrama #jdramasource #asiandramasource #boyslovesource #esmetracks #lextag #connorjesup #userstorge #userginpotts #usergooseras #asiandramaedit #asianlgbtqdramas #dailyasiandramas #belleparkgif #if it isn't yamato being dramatic over the gift kakeru got for him lmao #hzhjskdhdj they're just too cute

[fannyyann]

flapanthers: ‼️ COMEBACK CATS ‼️

#matthew tkachuk #sergei bobrovsky #I cannot believe they chose the one game I was able to go to to be THIS dramatic smh #what a game #matthewbob #2324

[l8tof1]

i’ve generally enjoyed the sprint format. i think there’s a lot of time wasted on these weekends, and we could either shorten the weekends or pack the days more so that the fans have more of an experience. it’s literally hours and hours and hours… there’s like at least 10 hours wasted during the day where we could be entertaining the fans on track.

#this man cannot sit still ever!!!! do not force him to!! #😭😭 #he’s so dramatic too lmao HOURS AND HOURS AND HOURS #here i was thinking that’s not a lot of time between the sprint race and qualifying if they’re also having to do media in between 😂 #lewis hamilton #chinese gp 2024 #sprint

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Culture Shock

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#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #xiao xingchen #xue yang #a-qing #As I sit here and type out my thoughts I realize that the last panel looks like A-Qing is crushing XY's candy...oops. #she's supposed to be crunching her *own* wrapper for dramatic effect. XY's candy is still in XXC's hand. #Hes still standing there. 180 degrees out of frame. Which is where your heart is! MEANING: XXC is in your heart right now #holding out a little piece of candy that has yet to be taken. #This comic was so close to being on the chopping block. Honestly I'm still not sure I should have kept it in #but I liked this scene a lot*** and tbh the yi-city arc isn't around for much longer. Let them have fun while it lasts. #not to mention I have few opportunities to build up spanish speaking XXC. And we are close to the pay off. #XY is in his 'oh god I need to start learning the basics of this language or I will drown' phases. Lets see how well he does! #***The candy represents so much! It's a symbol of unobtainability! Of comfort and status! Both A-qing and XY crave candy as much as they- #-crave those 'unobtainables'! XY has money to by candy (part of status) but he lacks love and comfort is his life! #So XXC offering them this little piece of candy is more than just a treat! It's a piece of love! #But as sweet as candy is....it cannot last.... #(this also makes the scene where XY disrupts A-Qing's comfort by offering candy very interesting to analyze)

[sapphorror]

Y'know... A lot of ZaDr fics have them either gradually drifting into a less contentious status quo or establishing a deeply bizarre multilayered dynamic that is nonetheless very consistent and beholden to its own rules—which works, to be clear, because slavish adherence to the rhythm of their endless 'game' is already their canon baseline.

WITH THAT BEING SAID. I think it would be very funny to depict a ZaDr dynamic in which they're like, on-again off-again nemeses. As they get older theyre gradually forced to acknowledge the true depth of their mutual attachment, but instead of actually improving themselves in any lasting way or compromising the conflicting elements into an ill-definable state of contentious codependence, they just start oscillating wildly between periods of obscenely clingy allyship and devotedly murderous enmity. There's never an in between. They'll dedicate all their energy to trying to horrifically torture each other to death, until one of them gets uncomfortably close to actually dying or an external crisis pushes them together or they just get bored—at which point, they become obnoxiously glued at the hip until one of them relapses into anxiety about their ambitions or an argument escalates past the the point of no return or they just get bored. And every time they both Really Mean It, They're Not Gonna Do This Anymore, before naturally going ahead and doing it again

#invader zim #zadp #zadr #iz posting #natterings #there is so much good drama potential here actually #initially I just thought the idea was funny and it IS but also #there is something to be said about leveraging the full force of ones loathing #against someone you've been sincerely intimate with #and at the same time still being too attached to that person to fully commit #so that it just becomes this endless unresolved resentment that's never meaningfully addressed #also how this effects literally everyone around them #because they literally cannot be trusted to stick to anything #anything they do they HAVE to do as a team #until they get so sick of each other that they'd sooner die than share a cause #and they'll sign themselves onto wholeass war efforts just to have a sufficiently dramatic battleground #(because obviously it's not any fun if the stakes arent absurdly high #'apocalyptic' being the bare minimum here) #only to defect without a second thought the moment they decide they miss each other #at the end of the day there's only one kind of dedication and loyalty they care about #and they're making it everyone elses problem #im always saying steady pitch-pale vacillation is the ideal zadr endgame #and what is this if not that taken to its absolute practical and emotional extreme

[faggyangel]

The idea of Aziraphale falling the angel version of Crowley but that person is no more and then Aziraphale falling for the demon Crowley is eating my brain...

aziraphale fell for an angel who carved out the stars and when crowley crawled from his burnt up body, aziraphale loved a demon with scales and yellow eyes just as much. crowley fell from heaven and built himself back up from the ashes of who he used to be and aziraphale didn't even blink before loving him with his whole being. crowley has the capacity to be both of these iterations of himself, he changes and sheds his skin and aziraphale just keeps loving him. the angel that crowley used to be doesn't exist anymore but that's just fine because there isn't a crowley that aziraphale wouldn't love.

#BRRRRRRRRRR #exploding over and over and over and over again #crowley sheds his skin #he dies and comes back wrong and aziraphale is right there to love whatever slithers out of the still husk of what he used to know #am i being dramatic of course but do you geettttt ittttttt he just keeps fcucking loving him #good omens #aziracrow tag #does this count as spoilers?? i feel like this is pretty general so i feel like i'm good but i forget what everyone knows #i swear to god im gonna open ao3 again to write smth about this i cannot be stoppeeddddddd kdjfnaowirhf #the ineffable husbands are being ineffable again guys sorry #crowley's constant changes to his appearance and even his name really are like a snake shedding it's skin every few months he needs to molt #<3 mwah said with love