#might rediscover his powers

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

The safety on his gun was turned back on with an inaudible click as Jason let the tension leak out of his body.

It wasn't often that someone broke into one of his safe houses, especially one that he hadn't used in a while, so seeing as some of his silent alarms went off he raced over ready to put a bullet in some wannabe robber or maybe a goon sent by another crime lord trying to start something.

Instead he found a prime bat adoption bait sitting in the living room floor, bare stomach pressed to the side of a ginormous egg. It didn't look like any egg hed ever seen either with midnight blue fuzz covering the whole thing. "Hey kid."

The kids head whipped around, startled by a strangers voice. "Who are you?" He asked incredulously, hugging the monster egg closer to himself, "How did you get in here? This place has some serious security."

Jason gave a short laugh, "Yeah, I know. I'm the one who put it there." He watched with mild amusement as the color drained from the kids face.

"You're the apartment owner? I thought he was supposed to be some big scary crime lord!"

"I'm not scary to you?" It wasn't uncommon for people to be intimidated by him. He was, as Steph put it, 'built like a fridge'.

The adoption bait stared into his eyes for a few torturously long seconds before simply saying, "No."

Huh.

"So, whats up with the egg?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"Thats my line, Todd." A voice said from across the room. Both him and the little intruder snapped there attention to the window where Robin was perched. Jason fought back the urge to chastise the little bat for using his real name seeing as he was out of costume at the moment. After all he was here as Jason Todd, normalish civilian man who came to see why his house was broken into, not Red Hood. Jason almost wished with was some goon working for a big bad even if it would have meant his secret identity was busted, he would have been at least dealing with that instead of Damians inevitable animal custody battle with the kid. Speaking of which.

"Hey kid, whats your name?"

"Danny Fenton." The kid-Danny, tilted his head. "I think."

Robin raised an eyebrow, causing his mask to sift with it, "You think?"

Danny nodded, "Yeah. Got blasted with something a few weeks ago and I don't remember much before that." His grip on the egg had loosened a bit and Robin chose this as he time to strike. Bird boy tried to lift the egg up out of the intruders impromptu blanket nest, but seemed to have misjudged the weight of the egg that was as big as both children's torsos and Danny was swift to take back his egg.

"What do you think you're doing?! Thats mine!" Egg dad hissed.

"Tt. I will be better able to care for the creature. You should just hand it over now. Do you even know whats in there?"

"No! Neither do you!"

Jason knew Robin couldn't refute that so he chose now to step in, "Where did that thing even come from?

He watched as Dannys scowl turned into a beaming smile as he told them about how he was hiding behind a dumpster for warmth when this egg just fell out of the sky and with quick thinking, managed to catch it with a bed of ruined pillows from a recent villian attack. "So you can't take my dragon egg away. I'm the only reason it didn't become a failed street omelet." Danny held his hands on his hips while giving Robin a smug look.

Before the demon brat could say anything or, more likely, try to wipe that smirk off the other kids face, a new person swooped in through the window. "You think its a dragon egg?"

The kid seemed unbothered by the Batman questioning him and just replied with, "Yeah! Look how big it is! Its gotta be a dragon!"

Bruce looked like he was about to have an aneurysm, "You found a large egg of an unknown, potentially supernatural creature and decided to incubate it?"

"Yeah!"

Jason decided he liked this kid.

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #batman #jason todd #red hood #danny phantom #danny got de aged #he remembers nothing of his previous life #might rediscover his powers #lmao #damian: I want that egg #Danny: Lol no. Finders keepers #it doesnt have to be a dragon it can be anything #gun #tw: gun

[scattered-winter]

well well my keyword for you is: magic system. do you have one and is it hard, soft, something in between??? tell me about it :D. also hope your day has been nice <3<3<3<3<3

I'm pulling from the jaykyle fantasy au that's been gathering dust in my docs for ,, nearly 6 months now lmao!! but I'm super proud of the magic system I built for it and tbh I love it so much I might implement some aspects of it into some og fantasy stories I have because it's sooo <333

it's.....somewhere between hard and soft, I think. like. the system is built around color (like lantern rings), so certain "colors" of magic can do things that other colors can't, but even then there are exceptions. there's some really big, very fundamental, completely unbreakable laws that apply to all magic types, and there are smaller rules that might apply to only a few and that could be bent/worked around if so desired, so I think it's a solid mix between hard and soft <3

every main lantern color is a specific type of magic, but colors can also be combined to make subtypes (kind of like how some firebenders can also redirect lightning in avatar the last airbender).

red = blood magic

orange = alchemy

yellow = mind magic

green = glyph/construct magic

blue = healing magic

indigo = flora/fauna magic

violet = star magic

black = death magic

white = life magic

blood magic at its core is the most powerful when the user draws his own blood, but some groups of blood mages have started using the blood of other people/animals which isn't as effective but its easier to harvest someone else's blood than your own. mind magic basically means that a yellow mage can manipulate someone with hallucinations, visions, or even by tampering with their emotions. green magic creates constructs, and the more powerful green mages can make glyphs that have gravitational/propulsion properties (inspired by these glyphs from rwby). indigo mages can control plants and animals, and each mage usually specializes in one over the other. star magic draws power from the sun and stars, and some mages literally suck the life from the stars to power their magic.

red/orange = blood alchemy

red/yellow = earth magic

red/green = air magic?

red/blue = water magic

red/indigo = fire magic

red/violet = storm magic

red/black = hollow magic (sucking life from living things for spells)

orange/yellow = academia magic (spellbooks, chalk circles, etc)

orange/green = trick magic (illusions)

orange/blue = advanced healing magic (slowing aging, replacing limbs, etc)

orange/indigo = herb potions

orange/violet = constellation magic (star positions)

orange/black = death alchemy

yellow/green = creation magic (creations with minds of their own but no souls)

yellow/blue = soul magic

yellow/indigo = animal magic (channeling animal auras)

yellow/violet = emotion magic

yellow/black = terror magic

green/blue = repair magic

green/indigo = growth magic

green/violet = summoning magic

green/black = dark glyph magic (using your own or other life forces to power glyphs)

blue/indigo = healing magic (specializing in plants/animals)

blue/violet = clairvoyance magic

blue/black = aura magic

indigo/violet = celestial magic (sun and moon)

indigo/black = decay magic

black/white = lazarus magic

I'm still not sure how the main strains of color magic coincide with the combinations, but ideally a red mage would be able to at least dabble in all the red combinations. the rules get kinda bendable on the individual color level, but the overall sphere of magic has some very strict fundamental laws. the biggest and most important: everything has an equal and opposing force. black magic is very powerful and terrifying, but white magic is just as powerful, and they cancel each other out. no spell is completely invincible from other spells, because no matter how many safeguards there are, there will always be something that can counteract.

send me a keyword and I'll tell you something from my brain (aus, ocs, etc) that relates to it

#im not explaining the individual combination magic types because they're still VERY tentative and i <3 #literally have no idea how i came up with those <3 #head EMPTY #anyway !!! i really really love this magic system and might adapt it for some of my og fantasy stories too because <3 it compels me #in the au white magic is practically extinct but then kyle becomes the single most powerful entity on the planet because he rediscovers it #and is the only white mage in the world #the thing that is his Equal And Opposite Opponent (as per the universal laws of magic) is basically a nightmare cocktail of death magic #compressed into the form of a giant nightmare dog called the hound <3333 #something about me is that i looooove fucked up nightmare creatures #anyway <3333 this gruntled me <3333333 #rye 🍞

[forlix]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.2k / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・chan x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, berry being the perfect girl she is. inspired by these bubble messages and @cosmic-railwayxo's treachery. (love u deni)

𝟬𝟲:𝟯𝟲 — “Where’s my baby, hm?”

This is the question on Chan’s lips the moment he lets go of the bedroom door, closed with agonizing caution as to not wake the figure still curled up under the duvet inside.

It’s early. Early enough so the walls are colored a rich beige by new rays of sunlight, so his footsteps are the only sound reverberating around the hallways when he commences his search. Early enough to evidence how he was only bestowed a few hours of sleep before waking up with a budding headache and leaden eyelids.

But he doesn’t mind the lack of rest, not this time. Not when there’s a wad of love with a freckled snout and floppy ears under the same roof for the first time in too long.

“Berry?” Chan calls, his voice tattered and low, like sandpaper. He rakes his eyes over the spots he remembers to be her favorite. Maybe they’ve changed since he was last home. Maybe everything has changed since he was last home.

The thought causes a familiar pang to go off within him, poignant and powerful, but the quiet scuffle of paws against hardwood takes the edge off the guilt straightaway.

Chan finds the beginnings of a smile on his lips before she even rounds the corner, and when she does, well. His grin might as well split his face down the middle. He’s on his knees in seconds, outstretched hands rediscovering home in the puppy’s silky fur as she clambers onto him with blown pupils and excited pants.

His adoring coos of her name falter into muted laughter, which then fragments into a sob. His vision narrows to his precious girl and then starts to blur. When Berry climbs up to give his cheek a few happy licks, she’s fascinated by its saltiness.

You emerge from the bedroom a little over an hour later. Sleeping is hard enough when you’re jetlagged, and even harder when there’s only mattress where you remember Chan’s warm solidity to be. The fabric of Chan’s hoodie suppresses your vocalization of his name as you ungracefully pull it over your torso, still struggling to rouse your body from sleep.

Your beckon produces no response. You wrap a hand around the nearest door frame and peek your head into the living room, a little more alert now.

“Chan? Baby?”

You feel silly. How many visits has it been for you to still feel this nervous, wandering around Chan’s family home? Yet you undoubtedly are, whether because of your absentee boyfriend or that his whole family is a few walls away. You pad through the silent abode with mounting trepidation and intense care to not make any more sound than necessary.

Then you reach the family room and instantly come to a standstill, hands drifting to your sides, features deliquescing to a soft smile. 

Lying on the nearest couch is your boyfriend, head propped up on top of his elbow, his fluttering lashes and gently oscillating shoulders indicating that he’s asleep. You can’t see his face below his eyes, as he has his nose nuzzled into the Cavalier spaniel resting securely in his arms, snoring tacitly into his sleeve, slumbering as deeply as her human companion.

You’ve been stumbling upon Chan sleeping in unexpected places for the better part of two years now, but you still liquefy every time as if it’s the first. These are the moments, you’ve come to realize, when you can care for him in ways he would never let you while conscious: a lift of his laptop off his thighs, a brush of your lips against his hairline, a cardigan draped lightly over his back. These are the moments when you understand in full how far you’ve come together, for him to trust you with his exhaustion with such transparency, to be so vulnerable as to leave you with memories of him that he’ll never have.

Despite your prolonged experience, it’s hard to describe what exactly you’re feeling in this moment. The mere mention of Berry has always dissipated the shadows that veil his face, has always chased off the burdens that cling to his spine. How do you put it into words, seeing your happiness at his happiest?

It suddenly occurs to you that the window beside them is cracked open. That, and you spotted extra quilts in the top shelf of Chan’s closet last night.

Chan’s eyelids lift when he feels the gentle weight of a blanket fall upon his body; so do the corners of his lips, when the culprit materializes before him. Sitting on the edge of the couch, a hand hovering over his frame, face creased into a flinch.

“Sorry,” you whisper, closing the distance between your fingers and the curve of his neck. The pad of your thumb moves over his cheekbone like a willow branch skimming water. “I didn’t think that would wake you up.”

Both of you up, you mentally amend, seeing as Berry has noticed your presence and is wagging her tail with enough vigor for it to thump against Chan’s chest. He lets her wriggle out of his arms and into yours; you emit a noise of glee and gather her into you.

If only you had seen the expression he wears then, watching your eyes scrunch closed at the frenzied kisses she presses to your face. His first love and his very last.

“Don’t apologize,” he answers. “I’m the one who should be sorry for leaving you in bed, I just…”

His voice trails off, but he knows by the softness in your irises when they meet his that you already know.

You move like clockwork. Chan presses up into the back of the couch, the quilt’s edge lifted in wordless invitation. It is your chest that Berry burrows into this time, the top of her head sliding into the space between your chin and the sofa’s cushion. It is Chan’s chest that you’re folded into, the arms around your waist like the coziest of cabins in a sun-spattered wood. It is the back of your neck that he nuzzles his nose into, but not before he litters gossamer kisses across the expanse of skin, as if printing the notes to a lullaby he knows well.

Everything is warm, so warm, so right, and jetlag starts to feel like a distant trouble.

You open your mouth while teetering on the cusp of a dream.

“Baby?” 

He hums into you, listening.

“Always be happy, okay?”

You don’t notice the solitary tear that traverses the bridge of his nose, lands in the cotton of your hood, and dyes the bunched-up fabric a few shades darker. You don’t notice how his embrace around you tightens marginally, like how one’s eyes can’t help but find their dearest possession when the building’s on fire.

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your nape once more. Your and Chan’s eyes close together. Berry licks your chin again, then follows suit.

(Another hour later, Chan’s parents walk into the family room. They decide to go out to breakfast for fear of making too much noise in the kitchen, Chan’s mother blotting away tears as she ducks into shotgun, Chan’s father laughing at her sentimentality while blinking back his own.

Another few hours later, Hannah takes maybe fifty-some photographs of the triad of unmoving heaps occupying their couch. Then she grumbles at Berry for being dead asleep at eleven in the morning: “Those two arrived here from across the world yesterday. What’s your excuse?”)

🔖 (send an ask or reply to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8

© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support.

#bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #chan x reader #chan fluff #chan imagines #bang chan x you #bang chan scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids soft hours #*writing #*drabble #*d: chan #k-labels

[manglam-marfach]

Kabru/Mithrun manifesto:

As that other tumblr post says: guy who loves to pull strings/guy who has not strings to pull. Also: Guy who has a lot of power and influence but doesn’t care about it/guy who has very little power and influence but cares about it so much. Delightful.

AND THEN Guy who is trying to develop strings. Asking the other guy: hey I think i might be developing a string? Could you pull it for me maybe? Just to see if it really is there (I mean a sexual desire. I mean fuck me.). Kabru is. Of course. EMBARRASSED AND TURNED ON AND PERPLEXED.

Thoughts in Kabru’s head: Why does he want this? Why does he want me? Does he even want me? Or does he see me as a safe person to fool around with because i don’t have power and influence in elven politics? I’M A THREAT I’M A THREAT I’M A THREAT I HAVE INFLUENCE. Is it a race thing. Is it a race thing. Am I being objectified? I’ll fucking kill him. Wait. Wait. I DO have influence is he playing me? To influence the policies of the Golden Kingdom? Is this an ELVEN PLOT OR SCHEME??? HOW DID THEY KNOW I’D BE INTO IT. What’s his angle. What’s his position. uhh. Position. Positions. Angles. Skin. His arms. His eyes. The memory of holding up his weight. The memory of his cold hands. His eyes looking at me. Looking through me. WHY IS HE ASKING ME HE DOESN'T EVEN SEE ME. Does he even know what he’s asking? Does he really have the ability to consent to this kind of thing? Of course he's not scheming he doesn't care enough to scheme. Of course he's not scheming he doesn't care enough about ME. Or IS HE JUST ASKING EVERYONE. Why do i feel weird about that. Wait [moment of harrowing realisation] am i into him? I am so into him. Is it creepy that I’m into him? Is it creepy that he’s into me? Are his ears as sensitive as other elves ears or -

Thoughts in Mithrun’s head: [30 years of dial up tone] ... ... ... 🍆✔

Holds up my hands. I JUST THINK MITHRUN REDISCOVERS DESIRE AND GETS ADDICTED TO KABRU’S COCK and also actually falls in love with him. All without changing his dead-eyed expression. I also think its funny that Kabru is a twink by human standards and incredibly butch by elven standards. I think Mithrun genuinely appreciates Kabru in a way he hasn’t appreciated anyone in a long long time. I think Kabru feels a little insane about that.

I think Kabru’s mother would be SO. MAD.

#Kabru #mithrun #kabumisu #kabrumisu #mithrun of the house of kerensil #what do ppl call this ship #i was intitially gonna write a small post with a manifesto for all the ships i like in this fandom but uhhh the farchille one is 600 words #so they r gonna be seperate posts #dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #dunmeshi manga spoilers #obliquely

[theculturedmarxist]

In a new article titled “Ukraine’s Lack of Weaponry and Training Risks Stalemate in Fight With Russia,” The Wall Street Journal’s Daniel Michaels reports that western officials knew Ukrainian forces didn’t have the weapons and training necessary to succeed in their highly touted counteroffensive which was launched last month.

Michaels writes:

“When Ukraine launched its big counteroffensive this spring, Western military officials knew Kyiv didn’t have all the training or weapons — from shells to warplanes — that it needed to dislodge Russian forces. But they hoped Ukrainian courage and resourcefulness would carry the day. “They haven’t. Deep and deadly minefields, extensive fortifications and Russian air power have combined to largely block significant advances by Ukrainian troops. Instead, the campaign risks descending into a stalemate with the potential to burn through lives and equipment without a major shift in momentum.”

The claim that western officials had sincerely believed Ukrainian forces might be able to overcome their glaring deficits through sheer pluck and ticker is undermined later in the same article by a war pundit who says the US would never attempt such a counteroffensive without first controlling the skies, which Ukraine doesn’t have the ability to do:

“America would never attempt to defeat a prepared defense without air superiority, but they [Ukrainians] don’t have air superiority,” the U.S. Army War College’s John Nagl told WSJ. “It’s impossible to overstate how important air superiority is for fighting a ground fight at a reasonable cost in casualties.”

Antiwar’s Dave DeCamp writes the following on the latest WSJ revelation:

“Leading up to the Ukrainian counteroffensive, which was launched in June, the Discord leaks and media reports revealed that the US did not believe Ukraine could regain much territory from Russia. But the Biden administration pushed for the assault anyway, as it rejected the idea of a pause in fighting.”

So the empire is still knowingly throwing Ukrainian lives into the meat grinder of an unwinnable proxy war, even as western officials tell the public that this war is about saving Ukrainian lives and handing Putin a crushing defeat whenever they’re on camera.

This attitude from the empire is not a new development. Last October The Washington Post reported that “Privately, U.S. officials say neither Russia nor Ukraine is capable of winning the war outright, but they have ruled out the idea of pushing or even nudging Ukraine to the negotiating table.”

Now why might that be? Why would the western empire be so comfortable encouraging Ukrainians to keep fighting when it knows they can’t win?

We find our answer in another Washington Post article titled “The West feels gloomy about Ukraine. Here’s why it shouldn’t.”, authored last week by virulent empire propagandist David Ignatius. In his eagerness to frame the floundering counteroffensive in a positive light for his American audience, Ignatius let slip an inconvenient truth:

“Meanwhile, for the United States and its NATO allies, these 18 months of war have been a strategic windfall, at relatively low cost (other than for the Ukrainians). The West’s most reckless antagonist has been rocked. NATO has grown much stronger with the additions of Sweden and Finland. Germany has weaned itself from dependence on Russian energy and, in many ways, rediscovered its sense of values. NATO squabbles make headlines, but overall, this has been a triumphal summer for the alliance.”

Anyone who believes this proxy war is about helping Ukrainians should be made to read that paragraph over and over again until it sinks in. The admission that the US-centralized power structure benefits immensely from this proxy conflict is revealing enough, but that parenthetical “other than for the Ukrainians” aside really drives it home. It reads as though it was added as an afterthought, like “Oh yeah it’s actually kind of rough on the Ukrainians though — if you consider them to be people.”

The claim that this war is about helping Ukrainians has been further undermined by another new Washington Post report that Ukraine is now more riddled with land mines than any other nation on earth, and that US-supplied cluster munitions are only making the land more deadly.

That’s right kids! We’re turning Ukraine into an uninhabitable wasteland of death and dismemberment to save the Ukrainians.

We should probably talk more about the fact that the US empire is loudly promoting the goal of achieving peace in Ukraine by defeating Russia while quietly acknowledging that this goal is impossible. This is like accelerating toward a brick wall and pretending it’s an open road.

The narrative that Russia can be beaten by ramping up proxy warfare against it makes sense if you believe Russia can be militarily defeated in Ukraine, but the US empire does not believe that Russia can be militarily defeated in Ukraine. It knows that continuing this war is only going to perpetuate the death and devastation.

“Beat Putin’s ass and make him withdraw” sounds cool and is egoically gratifying, and it’s become the mainstream answer to the problem of the war in Ukraine, but nobody promoting that answer can address the fact that the ones driving this proxy war believe it’s impossible. In fact, all evidence we’re seeing suggests that the US is not trying to deliver Putin a crushing defeat in Ukraine and force him to withdraw, but is rather trying to create another long and costly military quagmire for Moscow, as western cold warriors have done repeatedly in instances like Afghanistan and Syria.

Wanting to weaken Russia and wanting to save lives and establish peace in Ukraine are two completely different goals, so different that in practice they wind up being largely contradictory. Drawing Moscow into a bloody quagmire means many more people dying in a war that drags on for years, with all the immense human suffering that that entails.

The US does not want peace in Ukraine, it wants to overextend Russia, shore up military and energy dominance over Europe, expand its war machine and enrich the military-industrial complex. That’s why it knowingly provoked this war. It’s posing as Ukraine’s savior while being clearly invested in Ukraine’s destruction.

It is not legitimate to support this proxy war without squarely addressing this massive contradiction using hard facts and robust argumentation. Nobody ever has.

#caitlin johnstone #ukraine conflict #us imperialism #nato #nato propaganda #ukraine #russia #united states

[odusseus-xvi]

Just saw a post saying that it didn't feel right for q!Baghera to bond with q!Jaiden about their neutrality for Cucurucho especially considering what recenty happened to q!Forever. And at first, yeah okay, it's definitely unealthy, I understand, HOWEVER what made me do a double take is the later comment "It makes sense for q!Jaiden because it's her character but I'm disappointed in q!Baghera." And I was confused, because her pov makes sense in that. And then I saw the "I don't watch her pov, it's just what I see of her character." and that's where I went "OH, I can help with that ! :D" Because it does make sense form her pov.

So, time to clarify :

First of all, talking about Baghera (it's the character from now on) and Cucurucho's relationship, she has never been anti Cucurucho. She has always shown compassion for him. HOWEVER it was never in the way "he's a perfect little guy, it can do no wrong" but more in a "They might not have free will, someone or something might be suffering under all this. "

Because that's the thing, Cucurucho is not just Evil Guy tm that uses the fact he's nice to people in order to manipulate people on his side, it's a anthropomorphic white bear, with a robotic voice, godlike powers, and that might not even have free will or anything. To her POV there might be someone suffering. Does it know what it's doing, Can it make choices on it's own, Was something transformed against their will to become this. Are all those acts Cucurcho or the Federation using him ?

Their is then the shock and the recent revelation. You have to realise it's not just "the trauma she rediscovered is blinding her a little bit on some subjetcs." It's so much more intense. The PTSD was so intense she dissociated for 2 full weeks. The Federation had to go fetch her in order for her not to die. It was clear that this happened before AND can happen again. This is one of the reasons she tends to just clock out important and negative details that can induce stress, ESPECIALLY since she discovered she was created entirely by the Federation, in her pov yes Forever is part of her chosen family, but at the same time a BOMB of an information was dropped on her and the first reaction you have is not "It's okay, they are not my chosen family, I'm gonna focus on the people I care about." It's "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DOES THAT MEAN ABOUT ME" And that might be something she sees in Cucurucho, it might have raised her. And it might be in a similar situation. She was also so Anti-Federation for so long that now that she knows she was made by them, that she can't escape them, she is so terrified that people would start seeing the Federation in her the same way they see it in Cucurucho.

In a way it's a bit like realising years later your parents are complete assholes, but in reverse. She realised the Federation are the reason she is alive, the reason she exists. She might know they are evil, but they raised her.. She HAS to find some good in them, there has to be right ? If she is of them, there has to be some good.

In a similar way the "Cucurucho has never done anything bad to me" is not JUST reassuring herself and blocking out the problems of the others (it's partly that, and I agree it's very unealthy, that's why we are cheering, we want the angst) but it's also "I know they are capable of good, I've seen it, there has to be a way to point it towards that good and fight the Federation's influence". Imagine the "I can fix him" meme but infinitely more fucked up.

I want to be very clear everyone who follows her POV realises everything she is doing is VERY unealthy and unfair to a lot of people (to q!Forever, among others yes, q!Etoiles himself commented on how she acted strange recently), BUT it does make sense from her pov, and because she hides things to the others, I do realise now that YES, from other povs it feels like a shift, and her just not caring, but she does care, she is just REALLY lost, confused and scared at the moment. And that is partly why we are all SO interested and invested in her bonding with Jaiden, because it's terribly unealthy and it offers two amazing possibilities, either they get out of it together, with some help or not and it's beautiful, OR they make each other worse.

I can't wait to see where they go with it.

#qsmp #qsmp baghera jones #qsmp etoiles #qsmp baghera #qsmp forever #qsmp jaiden #qsmp cucurucho

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (V)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and whatever prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and this is part five💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Batman had a meeting! Danny acquired age appropriate enrichment toys. All is well. You know. Except for the everything else. But it’s fine and MM is on his way so it’ll all be great soon for sure! :)

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my awful attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

One…Morning? Evening?

Well. One day, Danny rediscovers his tongue.

Most of the muscle is there. Things taste better after he remembers how to taste.

(If everything tastes like iron, well…Danny tries to ignore that.)

Its main function is social. When Danny needs the quiet humans he can’t see to Shut Up or Go Away!, it is now within his power to blow a raspberry.

A slightly bloody raspberry. But still! A success! And when the fuzzy red human buzzes and whines about scaring them off, Danny blows it one too.

If all it does is make the human cry more, hey. That’s not Danny’s business.

*

The buzzy human comes back with its friends, with fresh sheets, spilling nervousembaras!sednervous all over the room.

Blech. Danny saves himself the trouble and phases through his bed and through the floor below. He does not need to be grabbed again.

He has more energy than he used to. It gets him farther than he’s used to; by the time he finds and works his way through an apple, a pear, and a whole plate of chicken wings, he’s still not sleepy.

…Huh. He rolls over underneath his usual haunt: a conference table. He isn’t feeling the urge to drop into his core. He’s achy, sure, and his limbs hurt and his mouth hurts from eating and he can’t see, but also…

Is Danny bored? Is he finally well enough to be bored of being sick and injured?? That’s. Is that progress? Is it…regression??

Danny sulks under his conference table (his now) with a pile of chicken bones and a few stems and doesn’t know what to do.

If he goes back to his bed…will the sheets already be done? Will people be waiting to get him? Did he lose his…ugh, he doesn’t want to think of them as toys. His…enrichment? Educational tools?

…Okay they might be toys. Whatever. When Danny feels better, he’ll grab something more age appropriate. Maybe he’ll get them from his—

Danny flinches.

…From his house.

If he can get there.

Whatever. He doesn’t want to think about that right now. He wants to figure out how to get rid of his trash without revealing his location. Or leave his conference table shelter.

Danny drums his claws against the low-pile carpet that stretches below him. Should he stay? Rest up? Wait for the threats to his admittedly-kinda-pathetic territory to leave? Should he…go get more food? Should he explore more? He feels all kinds of sore and tired but his head mostly feels clear. Maybe if he—

There’s a hissing noise. Danny bristles. He hisses in like, but—oh. It’s a door.

…Oh. It’s the door.

Uh oh. That’s um. That’s.

Uh oh.

Danny quickly pretends that he hadn’t hissed. He invisibly pushes the top of his head through the thick wood of the conference table. They shouldn’t be able to see anything if he peeks.

Well. Unless they can? But if they can, that’s. Uh. That’s a whole new problem.

Several tall, colorful, adult humans walk into the room. He can’t quite tell how many. Just a bunch. And they’re tall. But hey, they’re color coordinated for easier determination, at least.

Danny lowers himself back down through the table. Should he leave? Will they see him if he tries to leave? Can they spot him?

He sits and worries and he dithers as the humans slowly surround the table and the hidden ghost underneath. Should he…should he go through the floor? Will they know he’s there? Is it even safe to get back to his cot yet?

Feet start appearing underneath the table. Danny shies away from them. He pulls his chicken bones away from them too; if they step on one, they might notice him.

Then everything gets quiet. There’s only one quiet, droning voice.

So maybe Danny peeks again.

There’s a giant shadow at the front. It’s probably human. It has black arms and black legs and a patch of what is probably skin in his very fuzzy vision. It stands beside a lit screen.

Danny squints.

…Oh. He can’t quite tell what it’s about, or what’s exactly is being shown on the screen, but he knows what a powerpoint presentation is supposed to look like: a person, a lot of talking, a screen, and a lot of people listening. They’re just…talking. They’re not even talking about Danny.

Okay. He’ll rest under the table. It seems…safe enough for now.

It’s better to listen to human heartbeats and breathing in a room than it is to sit in his silent one, waiting for some new horror to break the everpresent quiet. Danny lays on his belly, nose to the carpet, and counts how many feet are under the table. (There are sixteen feet.) Some humans are wearing real shoes, with inch-thick soles of hard rubber at the bottom. Some are wearing things that look like shoes, but are too flexible, with soft soles that bend and curl as they flex under the table. Very few of them have laces or fixtures. Huh.

A wrapper falls. Danny watches the ball of foil flutter to the floor, at peace with his position, tired of inspecting shoes. And then a face pops down.

Danny freezes. (It’s not the smartest move.)

The face that popped down probably sees him back, considering how still it goes. And then, very slowly, so slowly, a hand reaches down. Danny flinches back, and—

…It grabs the wrapper. The adult carefully gets back up. The face disappears.

Danny doesn’t move. Danny doesn’t leave. Danny doesn’t breathe.

He waits. The human slowly goes back to tapping its toes, wiggling in its seat—and vibrating, in a way that says bored/bored/bored the way the younger human sometimes does.

…No one says anything. No one does anything. No one jumps under the table to get him, there isn’t a break in the speaker that indicates identifying Danny as Present, or as A Problem. Danny is simply…hidden.

He should leave. It would be smart to leave. Danny would be safer if he left.

But also.

Maybe.

This might be the first time he’s been so close to humans in so long.

They don’t know he’s here. It should be…safe. If he just. Listens to the indistinct sound of human voices. Let them wash over him, like a radio left on in the other room.

Danny’s sated. He’s achy. He’s bored. He’s sad. He’s lonely.

…He stays.

He doesn’t notice his humming or the quiet purr in his chest before the hand comes back down again. Danny flinches away from it, the hum guttering to a stop where it had laid.

There’s something about its hand. The hand came down, before, but now there’s something more to it. Another color—a darker color. It’s hard to tell in the shadow underneath the desk. Maybe a—green? A blue? Maybe?

The hand shifts, just a little. And then the thing comes flying at him. Danny jolts backwards, digging his claws into the mere millimeters of carpeting underneath him, and—

Oh. The thing isn’t moving. It hasn’t even exploded.

Danny reaches out a hand. Taps it, gently. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t attack him. It doesn’t excrete anything acidic or bite him. He sniffs it, just to be doubly sure, and nope. It smells like plastic. The wrapper crunches under his hands, even when everything sounds mute and muffled. The noise is borderline imaginary, so Danny can’t exactly tell what it sounds like when he plays with the little plastic flaps.

He can tell what it is now, though. The food bar goes down whole, wrapper and all, into his gullet.

Nice. The outside tastes bad, of course, but it’s nice.

The hand goes away, and no one bothers Danny. It’s nice. There are voices, but they aren’t yelling. They aren’t mean to him. They aren’t talking about what his insides look like or how bad he is or how to take more pieces off of him.

…Danny’s core thrums evenly. Peacefully. Maybe he will want that nap after all. His body gets kind of grouchy when it comes to plastic. He can pretend that it isn’t grumpy with his improvised diet with a nap.

Danny curls up on the floor, core beating along with the quick and even taptaptaptaptap fluttering of a too-quick human heart, and settles in for a quiet one.

(When he wakes up again, no one is around to see him throw out his chicken bones in the tiny trash receptacle by the doorway.)

(His toys and new sheets are all there when Danny gets back to his cot.)

(He’s too relieved to do anything but take a second nap.)

*

“So,” Wally tries, leaning against the wall. “The… Alien? Extraterrestrial?”

Barry shrugs. Fishes a cheeto out of his bag. “Bart’s been calling it a ghoul. They crashed half a mile off the Kent farm a little after you popped out of the Speedforce; there’s a huge chance something happened to them as part of the temporal anomaly.”

“Happened as in…?”

“Yeah.” Barry takes another cheeto. “Bad.”

And theeeere is the visible guilt. There isn’t exactly any great way for Wally to feel after his unintentional resurrection led to an unintentional…something else.

“…Ah.”

Barry shrugs. There isn’t anything they can do about it; short of rewinding time and shoving Wally back into the Speedforce, which has been shoved off the table with a great deal of force by all of the man’s former teammates, there’s no way to undo the accident that landed the poor alien smacking straight into good-old-fashioned American dirt.

“Don’t worry about the way it happened. It wasn’t your fault, and it sure wasn’t intentional on your part,” Barry points out, and offers the bag of Cheetos towards Wally. The snack is gone in microseconds. The curse of speedsters is really footing the bill of all their emotional eating.

“So, they’re…do we know what they are? Because they definitely shapeshifted fangs as soon as I found their little—whatever that is. Container? Unit? Under the table.” Wally traces the vague shape of the thing’s cerulean heart in the air. “One second I was holding a glass paperweight, and the next I was on the opposite end of a very angry shadow-snake. I think they would have done worse than bit me if it hadn’t had a clear escape route out of there.”

Barry balls the empty bag and shoves it into a pocket. If he litters in the Watchtower, it’s going to be water cooler gossip for years. Bats would never let anyone defile his super cool, super-secret base with garbage without his own form of petty revenge. “Medical says it likely serves as an organ for him,” he says instead, since monologue about how inconvenient it is to be held responsible for his own actions wouldn’t be professional. “So. Think of it less as a container; think of it more as a turtle shell. Medical is pretty sure it’s a part of their body. Messing with it would really hurt them.”

“Yeowch.”

“Mmhmm. One micro-sec.” Barry darts out and away from his nephew; he just remembered he has bottled smoothies in his room. In the time it takes him to fetch two from his mini-fridge—one of his favorite flavor and one of Wally’s—and circle back, the dust motes in the air have hardly even realized he’s gone. They hardly drift even upon his return. “Here.”

Wally catches it easily. To anyone else, Barry would barely have blinked away. To any other Speedster…Barry knows intimately how lethargic and thick time feels against his skull. Slowing down to a mortal, human speed can feel maddening. Sore. Viscerally and bone-shatteringly wrong in his skin, maybe.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Barry would do that and more for his family.

They drink their smoothies.

“You know,” Barry breaks back in, the thoughts of their previous conversation looming lightly in his mind, “Medical says that the fact that we sometimes see their—let’s call it a core—is really, really bad. It’s not a shock that they’re hiding. It would be like climbing in a closet when you’re so vulnerable that you don’t feel like you can defend yourself.”

The rim of Wally’s smoothie bottle drops from his lips. The man frowns. “Oh?”

Barry shrugs. “Imagine losing your skull so that your brain is exposed all the time. Imagine being a cell and having your cell wall break so your nucleus is exposed?”

They both wince at the image.

“Oh boy. And Bart is…playing? With that entity?”

His uncle snorts. “You tell me. I think you’ve seen more of them than I have at the moment. All I did was catch them hanging out in a conference room. I have to admit, the purring can get a little loud in the…” he makes a vague gesture that could mean anything from room to atmosphere to Speedforce.

Wally’s been mostly of the same mind—the physics of the entity, whatever they are, aren’t specifically third-dimensional. It might be related to how they only sometimes manifest, or how they manifest with only partial corporeality.

“It’s been at least some play and some games for him, I’m sure,” Wally admits, a smile pulling at his mouth nevertheless. “I spotted him going through a stim toy website before he suddenly and mysteriously had a mission on the other side of the planet. But I think most of his concern is the…”

Wally winces at the thought of the myriad of medical issues the entity’s faced since his arrival to Earth. Barry’s wince stretches to match. They both saw the report.

“…So it’s been a lot of food on Bart’s part. A lot of managing his care of them too; Superboy and Rob aren’t the most straightforward team in the world, but I think they’re largely keeping Bart in check on this one— not that they’re on base as much as Bart is.”

Wally smiles. It’s not a very happy smile, or very relieved of his earlier guilt, but it’s a smile nevertheless. That’s fine. Barry’ll work on the rest on Sunday; they’re due for a good luncheon out somewhere nice. Their JLA-approved food budget can foot the bill. Maybe…Indian? There’s got to be good food in Delhi they haven’t tried yet.

“At least J’onn’s back on base next week.” Wally sighs, crooked and a little weary. “Maybe this will finally get them to stop running every time someone gets within forty feet of them. Like, they realize they’re losing vital fluids, right? Wait, is Bart even giving them any water?”

“…I’m going to hold off on that worrying thought. I have a different one I’m sweating over. Do we even know if Bart will let our resident telepath get within forty feet of his new playmate?”

Wally groans, face in his hands. Barry can’t help but laugh a little—perhaps tinged with desperation.

Sidekicks. Always with the new problems. At least last time they had this problem, Kon could talk.

#The speedster clan is all here baby #and they are all Deeply Concerned #how they show their concern varies. But hey! They Care #and Caring is what matters :) #Bart Wally and Barry: hey can we get this one before Bats can? Yeah. Yeah! Let's try it #health and hybrids #Danny Phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #dcu crossover #faer fic #tw body horror #tw gore #tw medical #cryptid!au #spooky lad

[7-wonders]

Never Been Kissed

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x GN!Reader

Summary: Morpheus cannot possibly wait another moment to let you know how he feels about you. What happens when it appears that you don't reciprocate?

Word count: 2.0k

Author's note: Shitty summary, sorry, but you know the scene in Barbie (2023) where Ken goes to kiss Barbie after the party and she just stands there?

This one? Yeah I got it into my head that it would be funny if eternal drama queen Morpheus was in Ken's position.

Clueless!reader, innocent!reader. This is just a kinda stupid, goofy little fic, idk. If you liked it, I'd appreciate hearing from you! If you didn't like it, sound off as well! My haters are my motivators.

P.S. You might be saying "the Endless aren't allowed to love mortals it leads to their ruin!" And I say that this is my fic so I decide the rules. Buckle up babes.

Death would say that he is head over heels.

Desire would say that it is boringly predictable and far too soon.

Lucienne would not say anything, but she would give him that look over the top of her glasses, the one that says that he had better know what he is doing.

Matthew would say that he is down bad, which is apparently what the youth of today are saying.

They are all right, though Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, wishes they were not. Despite his very best efforts, he has fallen in love once more. With a mortal, a human—you. 

Morpheus has never had much luck in love. Though there were a few occasions (very, very few) where it was not his fault, he is mature enough to understand that he has often been the cause of a relationship’s demise. He falls hard and fast, and he always has. That, combined with his…intensity, is what he believes to doom him each and every time. Perhaps he gives too much of himself to those who don’t deserve it; perhaps he shows his hand too quickly. 

But you, he knows, are different. You won’t hurt him, not in the way that others have. You won’t take him for granted.

Tonight, he has decided that he will finally confess to you his affections. He will bare his realm to you, the parts that no normal dreamer will ever get to see, and hope that you understand that this is akin to him baring his very soul. After all, he is the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is him.

But where to take you? What to show you? Morpheus agonized over these questions for far longer than he would care to admit. Although he hoped to be able to accompany you to the farthest reaches of his realm (a tall task, considering said realm was infinite), to explore so much of the Dreaming with you that he rediscovered lands he had long forgotten about, this first foray needed to be perfect. He needed something special, something that conveyed to you the depth of his feelings.

He decided to start with something simple that most people would like to see: Athens, and specifically the Acropolis, as it was in its glory days. For all of the animosity Morpheus felt towards the Greek pantheon, he had to admit that they, and their worshippers, contributed much to society and humanity as a whole. Next was a glimmering lake that was actually the moon’s surface, followed by a glen in what could be the Scottish highlands populated by dragons—he found himself particularly pleased by your stunned awe upon seeing the mythical creatures.

The penultimate stop was one that Morpheus took great pride in thinking up, for he knew that it would be your favorite. A visit to a fae village, exiled by Titania and given sanctuary in the Dreaming (solely due to Morpheus’s dislike of their monarch), enjoying a Harvest celebration. They were harmless creatures in the Dreaming, devoid of any of the power that fae normally possessed, so Morpheus did not feel any hesitation in allowing you to explore the festivities. Above all else, the fae love a good party, so it was not surprising when a few invited you to join them in dancing, pulling you along with them until you were spinning and twirling as though you had always known the fae folk dance. You reached for him, mouthing “Come dance with me!” but he gently rebuffed you with a shake of his head and a smile, happy to simply watch the way you moved, with a grin on your face and boisterous laughter sounding just as lovely as the music playing.

What you had referred to as a “behind-the-scenes tour” ends in his private gardens, long a place of solace for him. Your excitement, your joy, fuels him. It’s palpable and intoxicating, and Morpheus wishes he could bottle it and keep it with him forever to give him just a hint of this feeling whenever he wants.

“This is…amazing. Your realm is amazing,” you gush, your eyes sparkling. “I feel like that word is such an understatement for what I’m trying to describe, but it’s the only one that comes to mind right now.”

“It pleases me to hear you think so.”

“Thank you for this. For trusting me,” you say sincerely.

Morpheus was right, you do understand the gift that this experience was meant to be. It makes the space in his chest cavity, where his heart would be if he allowed this form to have one, feel warm. It is only the the very least I could, no, would give you, he thinks. 

You’re smiling so sweetly at him, the moon shining down like a spotlight and making you look the closest to holy that Morpheus will ever get. This is it, he realizes. This is the moment where he will tell you of his love for you, and where you will then reciprocate. This is the moment that he will commit to memory for the rest of eternity until his sister locks up the universe behind her. This is the moment that you become his, and he yours. 

There is so much that Morpheus wants to say to you, yet he knows not where to begin. An unfamiliar feeling swells within him—nervousness. What if he says the wrong thing, what if he scares you off with his intensity before he can truly say what he wants to say? No, best to show you how he feels before telling you, that way there is no doubt. With that, Morpheus leans in towards you and closes his eyes, waiting to feel his lips on yours.

That feeling does not come, and Morpheus belatedly realizes after a few moments that it will not come. When he opens his eyes and looks at you once more, you’re still standing in the same position that you were, still smiling, albeit looking a bit more confused

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

All of Morpheus’s plans, his hopes and…dreams, for lack of a better term, come crashing down around him. So you’ve rejected him, then. He has laid his heart bare for you, shown you parts of his realm that no other mortal has been lucky enough to see, and you’ve turned him down. This, he muses, is his fatal flaw. Mentally, he had already declared you his, crowned you his consort, and created an entire life with you.

But the Lord of Dreams should know better than anyone that it does no good to dwell on dreams, for they are nothing but fantasy and can lead only to heartbreak.

“It appears that I was wrong in thinking that my feelings were reciprocated,” he says lowly, looking out at a carefully cultivated rose bush that is rapidly wilting. An icy wind begins to whip up, stripping the bush of its dead petals and sending them swirling off into the night.

Shock, raw and unfiltered, crosses your face. “Oh! You wanted…to kiss me?”

Morpheus pauses at this odd question, for he did not think you to be so obtuse. Did he not make it obvious that that was what he was intending? Are you attempting to shame him further? “Yes? I apologize, since you have made clear that you do not harbor the same affection for me as I do for you.” He has to grit his teeth to keep from spewing anything more vicious, though lightning cracks across the sky and says what he cannot.

“No! I mean yes. I mean–” You take a breath and shake your head as though you’re trying to physically clear your thoughts. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve never…been kissed. Before.”

The bad weather, which had been threatening since the moment he realized that he was wrong and tried desperately to hide the devastation that was threatening to overtake him, dies down so suddenly that it could have been turned off by some unseen entity hitting a switch.

“What.” It is certainly not proper of Morpheus to sound so shocked, especially when it’s regarding a topic that you are so clearly embarrassed about. But he simply cannot believe that someone like you, someone so delightful and open, so empathetic and, well, attractive, has never experienced intimacy from another before.

“I know, it’s super lame. People just…haven’t ever liked me in that way?” You shrug and add, “Just haven’t found the right person yet,” in a way that sounds so self-deprecating that it must be a line you’ve heard many times before.

“So you have never…”

You shake your head and look away in embarrassment. “No hand holding, no kissing, no dating. Nothing. Sorry to disappoint.”

It goes unsaid what else you haven’t done if those simple, basic acts of romance have been devoid from your life. From the way you brace yourself, you’re obviously expecting him to react negatively to the news, and he assumes that this is from experience. Instead, Morpheus finds that he does not mind in the slightest. No, this piece of information is…rather titillating, actually.

(Perhaps it’s the fact that this means you’re largely untouched by anyone, but specifically mortals, whom Morpheus has seen the worst of for over a hundred years. The filth of humanity has yet to mar you in such an intimate manner. Prior to today, Morpheus didn’t think that he had an innocence kink. Now? He’s starting to see why the gods and goddesses of old so favored virgins.)

He files this revelation away to be revisited later, when he can hope to be in complete control of his emotions and not have them divided by having the object of his affection standing right in front of him.

“I do not find myself disappointed,” he says.

Your eyes meet his once more, and he can see the hope you hold. “You don’t?”

He shakes his head. “It is not your fault that others have failed to properly see the magnificence standing before them.”

‘Magnificent’ does not even come close to doing any justice in describing you, Morpheus feels, but it will do for now.

“Morpheus,” you admonish half-heartedly and bashfully. You are obviously not used to receiving such compliments, which is precisely why Morpheus is now determined to make sure that you shall never go a day without hearing one. 

“Would you be interested in such things with me?” Things, of course, being the list of activities you have never partaken in.

Slowly, a smile spreads on your face. “Really? You like me like that?”

Your naïvete is truly endearing. “I do. Am I correct in hoping that you feel the same?”

“Yeah. You’d be correct.”

“Then might I bestow upon you your first kiss?”

Somehow, your smile widens, and you nod. “I’d like that.”

Morpheus again leans towards you, but this time, his actions are reciprocated. Your lips against his are soft and a little clumsy against his, which is to be expected from someone who has absolutely no experience. The entire time, he can feel the way that you’re trying, and failing, to keep yourself from smiling.

It is by no means the best kiss that Morpheus has ever had. Yet, it will likely remain one of his most fond memories of such an action.

When you pull away, you’re giggling almost giddily. “That was really good,” you praise, as though discussing a book or a meal. It’s simultaneously not at all and exactly what Morpheus was expecting from you, and he can practically feel himself falling further for you.

Tonight will not be the night that he espouses his love for you. He will not whisper promises of the universe against your skin, and he will not whisk you away to his chambers so that he may properly ravish you. Instead, this relationship will be…slow. Although that is not something that Morpheus is used to, something that he’s familiar with, he finds that he is alright with the concept of taking things slow, so long as it is with you.

#morpheus x reader #morpheus imagine #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless #the sandman imagine #dream of the endless imagine #the sandman

[fatalfairies]

SECOND PRINCE!SATORU GOJO x CARETAKER!READER

art credit: @/iorighin on X

a/n: not proofread but it’s cute

When you first saw Satoru,you felt sorry,such a beautiful man in the peak of his youth,he was sitting on the bed with his back supported on the pillows on the headboard slat of the large,luxurious bed.

“If you feel pity,please leave and do not return” were his very first words to you as you looked at him feeling questioned. Yes,you did feel sorry for him but you did not pity him.

“Well then,Your Highness,there is not any chance I am leaving.”

At first,he was distant to you yet polite. He tried to avoid as much help as he could from you. But maybe he forgot that the only reason you’re present here is for the sole reason of taking care of him and if that required you to use a little force,then you wouldn’t really mind. A part of you was being selfish and you were fully aware of it.

You had been recently widowed after your stupid bastard of a husband sacrificed himself to a war which brought no fruition and you were relieved. But the consequences which came along with was something you wouldn’t accept by any means,neither were you ready to become a nun and devote your life to god nor did you want to remarry most likely yet another man.

And this was the perfect opportunity for you for to become the second prince’s caretaker. To the eyes of others,a woman who had been recently widowed is helpless and serving a member of the Imperial Family would help with that.

During the first few months,Satoru disliked you,no that’s being too harsh,he by no means disliked you but he disliked how even a flutter of his eyelashes would draw your attention to him.

He had been pampered and taken care his entire life,as a prince it is nothing surprising.

Yet why is that under the gaze of your eyes,he feels so vulnerable and cared for like never before.

Satoru feels as though he had been brought back to his childhood when you promise to read him a book or take him to a stroll in the lovely imperial gardens or play board games with him.

In all these months,you had find out many things about him and one thing you were definetly sure of is that he never craved the power of the throne and crown as many might assume. All he wanted was to be free and enjoy his life.

As a Prince who has no way of inheriting the throne,he should have these luxuries but that is utterly wrong. He is always followed around by some guards or maids as though he is a helpless child and that is all because of this sickness.

It might be the cause he’s weak despite being born in a dynasty of powerful men and women but that is no reason to treat him as a porcelain doll that can break at any moment.

And he hates himself for it,sometimes.

Spending all these months with you he has rediscovered many things he thought were long lost in his distant memories. You were reading him a novel as a gift after he had his meal and medicine like a good bo..prince.

“Why are you staring me with such intensity,Your Highness ? Are you not enjoying this book ?” You asked him,your eyes leaving the pages of the book as you stare into his cerulean eyes. Hearing your voice other than reading the lines of the book,he looks at you,snapped back to reality as his mouth gapes open slightly,”No,you’re a good storysteller and have gotten the voice of a heavenly nymph.”

“Why,thank you. I’ll be sure to read them more to you since you are so fond of me doing so.” You return words back,playfully. Maybe there were improvements in your relationship with him afterall.

You didn’t quite expect the distant man you met months ago to have this playful. Although,it is indeed infinetly better than a man who acts like he’s constipated,such as your dead husband.

“Say,My Prince,what is your favourite flower ?” You asked looking at him as your hands were supporting his tall figure as you strolled with in the vast garden with a smile on your face.

“Any flower you bring me.” He says,chuckling. “I’m serious. Do not be silly.” “But you do prefer that.”

“Hm,alright then,I’ll just consider my favourite flower yours too.”

“I’d prefer that far better,anything favoured by you suddenly becomes favoured by me as well.”

“You’re being such a deceptive charmer. I am relieved I am the only lady who knows this side of yours,Your Highness.”

“It’s Satoru. Also,why ? are you afraid they would inevitably fall for my princely charms ?”

“Quite the opposite,My Prince.”

“Rude. But it’s sweet coming from you.”

Maybe this was the starting of something much more intimate yet unknown to both of you what would end up blooming in your hearts.

#fatalfairies #gojo ff #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo x y/n #gojo x yn #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fluff #satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x yn #jujutsu kaisen ff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu gojo #fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #gojo x reader fluff #gojo x y/n fluff #gojo x yn fluff

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

As promised, links to my crossposted fics (at least as many as I could find), in chronological order.

Mother Bruce And His Baby Birds [multi-chapter]

Much That Once Was Is Lost [multi-chapter]

Nature and Nurture [multi-chapter]

The Robin Manual

Dry Drowning

Breathing

Battle Royal

It Wasn't Real (But We Were Happy) [multi-chapter] - apparently not crossposted??

I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts - not linked; each chapter is a new prompt, so it's too unwieldy

By the Sea, By the Beautiful Sea

Trapped

Little Thieves

Teenage Mutant Power Rangers

Choco Bombs

With a Chance

Single Dads Club [multi-chapter]

Safe House

A Walk Up the Road

He's Shorn We're Torn

Look for the Helpers

Stop! It's Fanon Time - not linked; each chapter is a new prompt, so it's too unwieldy

Jason's First Christmas

Precious Fragile Little Thing

Caring for His Boy

Carried

If the Sky Comes Falling Down (For You) [multi-chapter]

Kitten

Choose - Lose

No Lifeguard on Duty

Shoulder to Shoulder

Listening

O'er These Mountains I Would Fly

Wishes & Dreams

Blue Eyes and Moth Wings - did not crosspost

Sunrise

Why Should a Star, a Star Ever Be Afraid of the Dark - did not crosspost

You've Always Been the Sweetest Song

Even When the Words Went Wrong

Hello from the Other Side - did not crosspost

You Are the Sun and I—

My Head Is Stripped - apparently did not crosspost in full

Catch Me

In My Arms

Chicken Bones - previously posted under a different title

Bang

With a Whimper [multi-chapter]

The End of the World

Bloody Brilliant

Collapsing Star with Tunnel Vision

Busted

Mended

Take the Spade from My Hands

Hay Is for Horses

Hidden

A Child of the Manor

To See the Stars

Yes Ma'am

Steel Blues

Resonant Frequency

Sentinels - apparently did not crosspost in full

I'm Done With Having Dreams - apparently did not crosspost in full

Oh You Drain All the Fear From Me

Emergency Contact

The Return [multi-chapter]

What's a Penny Worth

Old Blood

Hello Fadduh

Pup

A Quick Pinch [multi-chapter]

Ghost [multi-chapter]

Can't Let Me Go

The Caretaker and the Night

The Cave

Last of a Dying Breed

Write Our Names in the Wet Concrete

Professional Distance

Mr. Wayne, We Have Your Son

Fix This

White Lights / Afterglow

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Hood

And After the Storm

The End of Infinity (With You) [multi-chapter]

Sleepyhead

Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien

Ulcers

(S)kittish

Call From

Red to the Wrists

The Rain Again

Hey, Sister [multi-chapter]

May Tomorrow Never Come

It might be your wound, but they're my sutures

Hounded - did not crosspost in full

There's an Endless Road to Rediscover - did not crosspost in full

Nowhere Safer - did not crosspost in full

Satisfaction - did not crosspost in full

#fanfic #batfic #my fic #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #damian wayne #tim drake #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #clark kent #stephanie brown #fic recs

[jadeittic]

LOVE.

“Sometimes, someone comes into your life, so unexpectedly, takes your heart by surprise and changes your life forever.”

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto + Sunshine!Fem!Reader

note: this is my first work since going on a break that was too long so this work might be rough on the edges. this is my first for carmy too so ik i can do better so plssssss send in requests if you have some :)

js a small blurb:) i love love

In the pulsating world of culinary passion, where flames dance and flavors collide, two hearts discovered a captivating harmony. Meet Carmy Berzatto, short for Carmen, an intense and driven chef, whose every fiber was consumed by the pursuit of culinary excellence. And there was YN LN a vibrant and radiant spirit, whose infectious joy lit up even the darkest corners of Carmy’s world.

With their first meeting at the supermarket, both of their shopping carts colliding as they awkwardly fumble their way through the crowded aisles. Embarrassed yet amused, they both shared a nervous laugh, their initial discomfort slowly giving their way to a shared sense of camaraderie.

Over time, “chance” encounters in the supermarket slowly became intentional. Carmy and YN found themselves gravitating towards the same shelves, engrossed in conversations about the most peculiar products and exchanging recommendations for obscure recipes.

And as they continued to explore the aisles together, they discovered shared interests and passions beyond the supermarket’s walls. They found themselves engaging in activities that pushed them out of their comfort zones. With Carmy cooking dinner, as YN watches him from the counter with heart-shaped eyes. They fit perfectly.

Carmy’s culinary career demanded his unwavering dedication, his focus on perfection pushing him to the edge of his limits. Amidst the intensity of his craft, he often found himself drowning in a sea of stress and pressure. But then YN appeared, like a gentle breeze on a scorching day, bringing with her a tranquility that soothed Carmy’s restless soul.

With her contagious laughter and warm embrace, YN became the anchor in Carmy’s stormy sea. She knew exactly when to wrap him in her arms, easing his burden and reminding him to breathe. In her presence, Carmy found comfort from the relentless demands of his career, a safe place where he could be vulnerable and find respite.

YN, the epitome of sunshine, understood the delicate art of balance. She brought lightness and playfulness into Carmy’s life, helping him rediscover the joy in simple moments. Together, they embarked on adventures that took them far from the confines of the kitchen, reveling in the beauty of nature and the pleasures of the everyday.

With YN by his side, Carmy learned that life was not just about achieving perfection, but also about savoring the sweetness of love and laughter. Through her unwavering support and unwavering belief in his talent, she became his muse, igniting his creativity and reminding him of the wonders that lie beyond the culinary realm.

In the quiet moments shared between them, Carmy found his heart opening, revealing a vulnerability he never knew existed. YN’s presence, like a balm for his weary soul, inspired him to find a healthier balance between his passion and personal life, realizing that love and happiness were as important as culinary triumphs.

Their love story unfolded like a perfectly timed symphony, with Carmy’s intensity harmonizing with YN’s warmth and love for life. In each other's arms, they discovered a sanctuary where stress melted away, replaced by a profound sense of peace and contentment.

As their love deepened, Carmy learned to appreciate the power of YN’s sunshine, not just in his life but also in the lives of those around him. Together, they created a house of joy and tranquility, a respite from the whirlwind of culinary pursuits.

In the magical dance of their love, the pair found a balance that elevated both their spirits. They became each other's pillars of strength, supporting and uplifting one another as they navigated the challenges of life's delicious journey.

In the embrace of their love, Carmy discovered that his work doesn’t need to consume his entire being, while YN reveled in the fulfillment of nurturing and uplifting the one she cherished. Together, they proved that the union of an intense chef and a sunshine girl could create a harmony that transcended the culinary world, forging a love that was as tantalizing as the most exquisite dish.

#carmen berzatto × reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto fic #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto one shot #carmy berzatto imagines #the bear x reader #the bear imagines #carmy berzatto × reader #carmy berzatto fanfic #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto angst #jadeittic

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @textless​​

Hi! My name is Amadee, and I am a librarian who lives in Arizona. I also love taking photos in my spare time.

Check out our interview with Amadee below!

What got you started in photography?

Both of my parents were very interested in photography. I’d always loved looking at their work, and in high school, I got a 35mm camera as a gift, so I could start taking photos myself. Back then (in the actual 80s), HS students in the Minneapolis area could take classes at area colleges for dual credit. I started taking photo classes at the University of Minnesota and had access to a darkroom and nearly unlimited film and processing supplies without realizing just how amazing that was. I took many photos of friends, acquaintances, and strangers, and I loved looking at work by Nan Goldin and Bill Owens. After college, without access to a darkroom, I stopped taking pictures almost entirely.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work?

Bluntly, technology allowed me to start taking photos again. The first digital cameras I tried in the early 2000s were terrible: slow, clunky, and with next to no storage capacity. Even so, they seemed like the first step in an interesting direction. By 2008 or so, I had a point-and-shoot digital camera and rediscovered what I loved about photography… except that I no longer wanted to take pictures of people. Soon I started taking photos of tiny things, especially insects, and my little camera wasn’t up to the task. I got a DSLR with a macro lens in 2010 and haven’t stopped taking photos since.

I know many photographers who are nostalgic for film, whether or not they were around in the analog era. More power to anyone who wants to spend the time and money, but I don’t miss film even a little. For the kind of photography I enjoy, which is almost entirely documentary, the ability to take an unlimited number of photos, and see what did or didn’t work right away, makes all the difference.

You've also written books in the past—what was the most challenging, yet rewarding part of the process?

I was a children’s librarian for many years and just love books. So, when I started writing, I hoped to create books that would connect with kids and spark their imagination. Cortez the Gnome was a book I would have liked to see as a kid, and the art project elements were fun and frustrating. Gentle Hands filled what felt like a gap in my storytimes and gave me a chance to work with a publisher I like very much. Alas, my biggest challenge is that I haven’t had an idea in years! I write occasional blog posts for Free Spirit on topics related to serving youth, but working with kids was the spark for new ideas, and these days my work is mostly admin. I enjoy it more than I would have guessed years ago, but as a wellspring of inspiration, it is not.

How do you create healthy boundaries in balancing your day job and personal aspirations?

Work comes first every time. That might sound like a drag, but I truly like my job and think library service is critically important. In some of the tiny communities we serve, the library is the only gathering place open to everyone, and the only place to access fast internet, enrichment activities for kids, books, movies, and all kinds of other good stuff. I love taking photos, but I would hate to make a job of it.

What is the hardest part of your process?

The process itself is just fun, and I’d stop if it weren’t. I used to stress about editing and posting photos soon after taking them because I wanted to create a sort of nature journal in real-ish time. That wasn’t sustainable, partly because the subjects that interest me are so seasonal. I might take 2,000 photos in August (peak macro season here), but only 100 in February. Now I just try to indicate when photos were taken and know that I’m the only person who particularly cares about that. For years I posted six new photos each day. Now I generally post two and skip days or longer whenever it suits me.

Right now, the biggest challenges are external. First, my vision is less and less sharp. It’s nothing severe, just a function of age, but it makes me think I’d better develop an interest in non-tiny subjects at some point. Second, some small but annoying health problems have kept me from getting out much over the last year. I used to take a hike or long walk at least once or twice a week, and more in peak bug season. Since last September, I’ve taken two longish walks and mostly stuck to the yard. On the plus side, it’s an excellent yard with an ever-growing assortment of interesting plants and insects.

While this is frustrating in some ways, it’s also a distillation of something I have always liked. Even when I was hiking all the time, I enjoyed going back to the same places, again and again, getting to know them in detail and watching the seasons roll through. Staying so close to home this year has been an extreme version of that, and some aspects of that have been very satisfying.

I should also say, for the record, that I am not technical at all. I’m not interested in new gear as long for its own sake, and I don’t like messing with camera settings or anything fiddly. My favorite piece of photo advice ever was “f/8 and be there,” which I took to mean finding a basic setup you like and focusing on the subject at hand. I like finding strange or beautiful things that other people might not notice and trying to make them interesting to a wider audience. (Wider than just me, that is.)

What is something you would love to photograph but haven't had the chance to yet? Why?

This is oddly specific, but I desperately want to find an Arizona Unicorn Mantis (Pseudovates arizonae; check out the photos here). Several have been spotted within two miles of my house, but I have never found one yet. They are otherworldly and just fascinating. Insect goals!

Are there similarities or differences in your workflow when it comes to photography and writing?

Mostly difference in that photography is relaxing, and writing is nearly impossible, at least right now.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

There are several excellent photographers who live in my corner of Arizona, and I love their work because it shows different aspects of a place I care about. Also, their photos are just gorgeous.

@fatchance​ is practically a neighbor and an all-around lovely person. He takes beautiful pictures of birds and desert flora, and unlike me, he takes the time to learn about and share good information about his subjects.

@thelostcanyon​ is another south-eastern AZ photographer I admire, and he is also a very good painter.

@inlandwest​ is actually my partner. We’ve lived all over the west together, and I like that his wide-open-spaces aesthetic is so different from my focus on the little things.

A little farther afield, I love @macroramblings​, and Celeste, of @celestialmacros​, @celestialphotography​, and @occasionallybirds​, for their beautiful macro work.  @mostlythemarsh​ is another long-time favorite. He’s not a macro photographer, for the most part, but I like seeing familiar places through the seasons, and I like the stark difference between his environment (east coast/Canada) and my own.

Thanks for such wonderful answers, Amadee. Check out her beautiful photography work over at her Tumblr, @textless​!

#creator spotlight #photographers on tumblr #writers on tumblr #macro photography #textless #insects #bugblr

[allykatsart]

As someone also caught up in the Hazbin Hotel OC Brainrot train, goddd I need to know so much about Peccantrum it ain't funnyyyy

Who is Peccantum?

YOU WANNA KNOW MORE CAUSE I GOT MORE-

Peccantum has an entire wall of his room dedicated to a conspiracy theory about Alastor. Red strings and all. He keeps adding to it as time goes on.

He's got an entire section trying to find codes in the music that plays on the radio, or even within the static of defunct radio stations. There are countless papers trying to figure out what Alastor's symbols mean. All together it leads into his biggest theory; Alastor is a Deer God and is at the hotel for unknown purposes.

Alastor! Does not know about this!

Angel dust DOES know about it. Angel Dust regularly calls it Peccantum's 'Stalker Wall', which Peccantum vehemently denies. He is not a stalker! Sure, he has photos of Alastor that no one is sure how he got, but it's not in a creepy way! It's just to try and figure out how Alastor got as powerful as he is! It's not creepy at all! In fact it's very logical and nicely sorted!

Angel still calls it his stalker wall.

Vaggie tries to get Peccantum to throw it out cause it's a little creepy. (Also because Peccantum tried to convince her that Alastor might be Lucifer in disguise and that Charlie was actually his daughter.) However, Peccantum just finds new places to hide it no matter how many times Vaggie rediscovers it.

Truth be told, Peccantum's only doing this because he's desperate.

He made his deal over 7 years ago, before Alastor disappeared. Peccantum had thought he'd be okay with this arrangement but he wasn't expecting Alastor to just vanish. He wasn't expecting to gain a sense of identity in the Radio Demon's absence. He certainly didn't expect Alastor to come crashing back into his life.

Peccantum's making the board because he feels out of control of his own life. Maybe, Peccantum reasons, if he can figure out what kind of person Alastor is, if he can figure out what he's gotten himself into... Maybe it won't be so bad. Maybe Peccantum didn't make a mistake. Maybe what Peccantum gave away in that deal won't be used against him. Maybe this won't hurt as much as he thinks it will.

That desperation to prove himself wrong slowly slips out and culminates in the conspiracy board. Where he can try to piece together a good ending for himself. Where he can try to have some control over his life. But that control is frayed and untrue.

Eventually, after some sort of conflict, Peccantum admits his reasoning. He begs to be allowed to keep the board, and that no one tells Alastor. Charlie would have to be the one to talk him through why this is a bad habit. He's still uncertain, but he's got Charlie reassuring him that it'll be okay. So, Peccantum would listen and throw out his evidence.

...buuuuut not before Alastor finds out.

Alastor is a bit surprised, but not really disturbed when he finds the mess of red strings and thumbtacks. There were a few photos that he didn't realize were taken of him, but that's it. Most of the stuff on there is well known facts, or absolutely wild speculation. It is amusing to see how worked up Peccantum had gotten over his position as the bellhop. Alastor will certainly appreciate once this mess is all gone though.

It's only after the events of Episode 5 that Peccantum goes back on his promise to Charlie. He starts a new board, this one with a completely different question at its core.

Who did Alastor make a deal with?

#hazbin hotel original character #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hellaverse #vivziepop #ask #Peccantum #sinful-sketches #sinful sketches #i feel you #there are so many cool OCS out there

[beedreamscape]

VERY LONG POST EXPLORING C3 AND WHY SO MANY PEOPLE MIGHT NOT LIKE IT/MY PERSONAL GRIPES WITH IT.

I ended up exploring a bit of that Reddit community of critical role fans (not the main one) where they basically gather together and commiserate how much they hate C3. It's frustrating to read because at some point you can tell they make no effort to engage positively with the campaign and have a penchant for hating anything about it.

But, from the perspective of someone with very little emotional connection to the past campaigns, I kinda get why C3 feels so different and, in my opinion, it's all about personal stakes for the characters.

As writers, we constantly hear that we must give the characters something personal to care about so that the reader may care about the plot - yeah city-destroying laser beam is a big stake, but if main character's loved one will be used as a sacrifice to the aliens to activate the laser beam unless they do something, the tension doubles.

And with a shallow look over the arcs of the past campaigns, especially the fans' favourites, a pattern I find is of those with heavy personal stakes:

People often point the Briarwoods arc as a favourite. It's not just about bringing down the powerful Briarwoods, it's about avenging Percy's family and bringing his beloved Whitestone back to its past glory, all mixed with the fighting of personal demons.

We also got Vax'ildans overarching arc with the Raven Queen and Scanlan's with Kaylie and his self-worth/discovery in the party.

In campaign three, the struggle of Fjord getting over Uk'otoa's influence and turning to the Wildmother, rediscovering himself. Bright Queen's Favor with freeing Yuza, uncovering Nott's past, grappling with their preconceptions of the empire and the dynasty, and meeting Essek. Losing then Recovering Yasha from Obann. Traveler Con.

This post about the first third of the C2 comparing it to C1 explains quite well how M9 is driven by the party's personal stakes over any obligation to any institution.

Not only personal stakes that build the value of the campaign, but places that grow as their own: Whitestone, Emon, Zephrah, Xhorhas, the Menagerie Coast, Zedash, etc.

That's what's missing from Campaign 3: anchors and personal stakes.

Bells Hells doesn't really care about anything! We're entrenched in the Ruidus plot ever since we learned what ruidusborn means in the beginning of the campaign and yet, what does that mean to them? It was the subject of Imogen's dreams and afflictions but what else? The main victims of it will be the gods, but they repeatedly state how much they don't care for the gods and are in doubt if losing them would be bad anyway.

In a certain perspective, I don't blame them - the plot has grown so massive and subjective, while they haven't - they're still level 10 nobodies against a god-eating moon-shaped monster and the insanely powerful guy that wants to free it.

Bells Hells doesn't care for the places they walk through! Only two members of the party are actually from Marquet! Imogen and Dorian. And both are running from their past! so they don't even want to be there! Ashton hates everything about it and all the others have no reason to cling to it.

Jrusar was such a great city with great dynamics that were only half explored and they don't seem to care to return to it even though so much goes unexplored. Yios meant nothing nor did Heartmoor or the Taloned Highlands (and its apparently juicy political intrigues nobody cared to explore) and barely a mention of Ank'harel or the Silken Squall.

WHY do we keep going back to Taldorei???

Marquet as a whole goes mostly unexplored and underused in the campaign and it's so upseting.

Bells Hells have nothing to lose! They hold no personal stakes to the plot, most of them don't have families and those that do feel like something so distant and impersonal, no place or city they love or feel connected to, the only thing they owned (the very valuable skyship rip) they destroyed with barely any consideration. Their morals feel like the only thing at stake and even that feels already lost.

C3 is pulling too much from past campaigns. From the moment they first contacted the VM people, it felt like a mistake, and every appearance since has felt so much like fan service (especially bc specific fan favourites are the recurring appearances, no variety). The time spent in Whitestone, the connections to Delilah, everything with Keyleth, etc.

This last one, in particular, contributes to that group of NPCs feeling, always revolving around some other character struggle - who cares what is going on with Bells Hells when Vax's trapped in an orb and Keyleth is half dying, and Caleb is in an anti-magic collar, and Trent is probably loose, and this character and that character...

We haven't spent proper time with C3-exclusive NPCs excluding Nana Morri since episode 50! No Lord Eshteross or Xandis or Ira or Jiana Hexum or the Green Seekers or Milo. It was so special to me having Dancer and Imahara Joe around even if briefly.

And Lord Eshteross death left such a huge gap in the dynamics of the party with the world. I think it was premature, especially because the thirst to avenge him (which I suppose was meant to fuel their hate and intention to kill Otohan) lasted so little and from there on out began the heavy and meta-gamey (and personally, OOC) relying on VM characters.

The ticking clock on the apogee solstice strained much of the campaign and brought this looming fear of 'if we don't take care of it nobody will so we can't waste time', therefore the alternative paths and personal arcs fell to the sidelines in favor of the elephant in the room, so it felt like several episodes of dragging towards this event, then the peak of ep 50-51, to re-start the drag of post moon beam.

Guest PCs are a whole other can of worms I'm not ready to explore also bc it entails a lot, but it's a shared sentiment that people miss Dorian and what he brought to the table.

On a personal view, the Hellcath Valley was my favorite arc. Bassuras felt so tactile and real and gritty, we had a clear objective of infiltrating the Paragon's Call and retrieving Armand Treshi, Deathwish Run, the mystery of Dusk unveiling into Yu, Fearne's parents encounter, Ira, Imahara Joe and reveals about Dancer and D., first FCG nervous attack, Otohan battle and Laudna's death. SO MUCH.

Special mentions to everything Jrusar and Shade Creepers, Heartmoor and the Museum, Savalirwood, and the time spent on the Silver Sun.

I miss these small-scale objectives, I miss the C3 NPCs, I miss Marquet, I miss turning our eyes to these character tensions and exploration, I miss the one-on-one talks, the unity they shared in those dire moments.

I can't wait to leave the Predathos plot and all the repetitive discussions within it behind.

This doesn't cover everything (interpersonal relationships are a whole other spectrum of discussion) but a few things I feel puts an obstacle towards people liking this campaign when comparing the past ones.

#it feels like i've been writing for hours and I might've been #why am i writing this? well good you asked....... *crikets* #i needed to put this out of my head #i needed to put into words why i can't argue the hateful claims while loving campaign 3 and bells hells #bells hells #cr meta #critical role #cr spoilers #rambles #c3

[aeithalian]

Light Bringer thoughts

spoilers below:

So the fact that Virginia disappeared from the narrative after the first half of the book kinda threw me for a loop, but I suppose if she had gotten a subplot of her own, it would have felt like we were getting pulled from the action too much… because the Darrow/Lyria/Lys*nder side of the story was all one cohesive plot, and Virginia’s POV, had it been maintained, would have added a certain level of unrelated chaos, with the audience getting jerked away to Mars every so often. So while I missed her, I can appreciate why Pierce didn’t include her as much. 

I LOVELOVELOVE getting outsider POVs of Darrow. Our only other one was from Lys*nder in Dark Age. When Lyria hung around and got to really know Darrow was when she was solidified as one of my favorite characters, for the pure merit that she was able to change her perspective from the myth to the man. It made me realize that more people would like Darrow if he wasn’t famous for war. That and I love the stark difference between how Darrow is in his own head and how he is to other people. It’s so much fun. Likewise, an outsider POV of Lyria was equally fun as well. 

Figment. It’s… I don’t know. I think I expected it to have a bigger payout? Or I expected Lyria to have it for longer. Figment was a really cool mystery that didn’t get fleshed out. But then I realized that the story didn’t really need another physically powerful female character. We have Virginia, Victra, and Volga for that. Aurae, Athena, Theodora (RIP), and now Lyria are a new brand of strong female characters that I’m really glad Pierce has gotten into a groove with - strong, empathetic women who don’t need to hold their own in a fight to be respected and awesome in their own rights. So no, I don’t think Lyria will ever be that ‘red god’ character people thought she might become, because that’s not where her strength lies. And who says Figment won’t return? (No, I don’t think Matteo left it in, but who knows)

I honestly wish Volsung Fá had been introduced earlier, I think it would have made him seem like a bigger threat. The fact that he was introduced as Atlas’ puppet, which was supposed to be this huge mystery to the Volk and the Ascommani, is something we knew the whole time, and decreases on the ‘drama’ of it, I think. I’m excited for an adaptation of him, though! The fear that he supposedly evokes is something that I was kinda missing, so I’d be excited to see it on a screen for a bigger effect. 

BREATH OF STONE HOLY SHIT this entire sequence was so good. I actually teared up. I was so excited. The ‘clang clang clang’ “confess”? Daddy Darrow. ohmygod. Darrow rediscovering his roots in the mines of Mars? A spiritual experience. AND he recreated the Trojan Horse moment from Red Rising and it was like a little part of me was healed. It was so good. That moment where he talks about the game he played with Eo as kids really got me because I think this is the first time in a while where he’s looked back on his memories of Eo and not thought about her death and her dream, but her life. I think he remembered why he loved her so much, and it made me like her a bit more too. But the power up moment. So good. Ugh. 

I’m gonna be honest. I saw Cassius’ death coming from a mile away. But it hit me WAY harder than I thought it would. I was never his biggest fan, even in Iron Gold, but I knew I was in for it when he rejected the ‘au’ honorific to Matteo, and I really started seeing his development. And his last words? Gut punch. I’ll never get over that. Formally rejecting Gold? Claiming Darrow as a brother in life and in oath? Declaring solidarity with the Republic? Yes, Cassius. Your honor does remain. 

The fact that Atlas died in this book kinda freaks me out, because I really thought he was going to be the big boss at the end of the story, because Atalantia doesn’t scare me enough just yet. But now that Lys*nder has the Eidmi, I’m getting a bit nervy. Lys*nder was fine before because he was never a real threat. But there’s nothing more terrifying than a man who has all the power in the world and doesn’t know what to do with it. 

My last thought: Fuck Lys*nder. This absolute pisspot. This pubic hair of a being. This man - no, *BOY* - is going to forever taint my idea of the word ‘honor’, not because he has any, but because he is a bastardization of everything honorable people stand for. He can say he has honor over and over again, but when it clashes with his reputation, he always fails to do the honorable thing. Killing your brother? Not honorable. Doing it for a weapon that will let you commit mass genocide? Hm….. not very honorable, methinks.

Predictions for Red God:

Red God is Darrow. No question. The term ‘red god’ has come up before, in direct reference to Darrow in Dark Age (someone was talking to Alexander) and I heard someone saying it might be Lyria, but honestly, I doubt it.

There are still a couple mysteries that didn’t get revealed that I was curious about: in Dark Age, Virginia says that the Pandemonium Chair was only ever used twice, once being on Lysander… so what was the other time? Similarly, when Atlas is getting un-carved from his Helios-doppleganger body, it’s mentioned that this isn’t his first time, and Lysander noted it as unusual. So what’s up?

I still really think that Lyria’s brothers were the snipers Darrow ordered to kill Lysander during the Long Night. We’ll have to see where that goes. 

Eidmi. It honestly feels too simple, and I’m worried that Atlas wasn’t telling the full truth. Bitch didn’t even have a plan for it, but the thing is, he was afraid of Atalantia having it, because he was afraid she would use it wrong. But oh honorable Lysander (please sense the sarcasm) I don’t really think you should be any less afraid of genocide just because you’re the one holding the trigger. I actually think he’ll try to use it on Luna first, but I don’t know if he’ll be able to get it that close to the planet itself. He probably won’t use it on Mercury, because that’s where he’s going to try his major rejuvenation efforts. And he’s more afraid of Atalantia than he is of the Republic, so Mars probably isn’t that high up on his priority list - remember, he thinks Darrow is dead, doesn’t know the Volk, Daughters, and Rim are all flying to protect Mars, and has wildly underestimated the power of the Republic. He might blame it on the Republic, in a last-ditch effort to get any Golds that haven’t claimed a side to do so. It's almost impossible to predict, because Pierce is inherently a very unpredictable author.

The Abomination is an interesting stone left unturned. The thing is, I thought Virginia might have had a chance to turn him good (?) before she tried to kill him, and I thought she actually could have done it if not for Lilath. Maybe she’ll use the PsychoSpike on him, and somehow implant memories of the real Adrius in him so she’ll have a chance to show him the love he didn’t have before. Because I saw someone say the same thing about wiping Lysander’s memories, but I really don’t think Lysander would take any chance he has for redemption, he’s already turned his back on ‘honor’ too many times. The Abomination, on the other hand, probably wouldn’t have done anything wrong had be been guided by a hand other than Lilath’s. I think there’s hope for him. 

I don’t think Rhonna is dead! No body, no death, especially with Pierce. In the Dramatis Personae, she’s described as ‘lost’, not dead. Chekov’s gun, and all that. 

Darrow better not die. Here’s the thing, though. If the Darrow we saw in Dark Age had carried over through Light Bringer, I think Pierce would be setting him up to die. But now that he’s got the Breath of Stone, the Path to the Vale, and the power given to him by letting go of his guilt and worry, it’s setting him up for a happy ending, moreso than I remember ever reading the rest of the series. I think LB!Darrow is the first time we’ve really seen him believe that he could also live. Remember, he’s always thought he’d end his story as a martyr for the Rising/Republic. But now I think he knows he can not just fight for more, but live for more too. Sevro said it well. We’re tired of this shit. Let’s band together so we can start living rather than surviving. 

#red rising #light bringer #lightbringer #pierce brown #darrow of lykos

[luminous-jellyfish]

A Writeblr Intro (English Version)

Link zur deutschen Version

Hi, I'm Marlin! I've been lurking on tumblr and in its writing community for years but was always too shy to engage. Now I've finally decided to start sharing my own stuff (mainly to organize myself) and become active!

⫸ About Me ⫷

I go by Marlin (she/her), or on some platforms by luminous-jellyfish

mid 20s, queer

I write (mostly) in German, but post (mostly) in English

my favorite genre is fantasy, and all the different direction fantasy can go in, but I like trying my hand at genre mixing

my main blog where I reblog general stuff and fandom things and so on is @secondrealitytotheright

⫸ Current WIPs ⫷

I'm currently most actively working on a few different stories that all take place in the same world (though at slightly different points in time) that I've dubbed "leviathan world" in my notes - after the gigantic sea creatures that live in its deep oceans (and sometimes the sky, who can resist sky whales, seriously). I would probably call it a fantasy world with steampunk elements.

All of those stories feature queerness in different forms, and most of them include at least slight elements of what might be called body horror.

All of these stories are still operating under working titles and are in various, wildly differing draft stages. As always I have far too much planned in this world but these four are the stories I'm actually actively writing right now:

Seeds beneath our skin

Genre: Magical Academy Fantasy, Coming-of-age story

Setting: a group of islands and archipelagos near the equator, where the leviathans are generally both revered and feared as holy and powerful creatures connected to the spirit world

Short Summary: A young girl who grew up as a sea nomad joins the temple that has controlled religious practices throughout the islands for a hundred years. Against her will she becomes a key figure in the struggle for power and religious freedom that is about to grip the temple. To survive spirit possession, human intrigue and ideological differences she is forced to reconsider her identity and world view and define herself on her own terms.

Honey cakes and bloody satin

Genre: Steampunk Fantasy, (Cozy?) Mystery, Romance

Setting: a harbor city on the northern continent, famous for their leviathan hunters, where a technological revolution is happening as the blood of leviathans is turned into a powerful fuel

Short Summary: A journalist working for a revolutionary underground newspaper and a seamstress involved in the golem's rights movement are thrown together when a man dies right in front of their eyes. They must work together and solve the crime while also hiding everything happening from the Watch, to protect both of their secrets.

Short WIP Intro

Half the lights

Genre: High Fantasy Adventure, Romance

Setting: A city on the back of a leviathan, as well as the open skies, oceans and harbors frequented by smugglers, messengers and pirates

Short Summary: A wealthy, bookish young woman who dreams of investigating weather phenomenons escapes having to forge a psychic bond with the leviathan carrying her home city on its back. She stows away on a messenger ship and finds herself among a shady crew of smugglers. Eventually she gets herself involved in pirate adventures, a political revolution and a growing attraction to a headstrong fighter with a rigid code of honor and high ideals.

And surrendered the flesh

Genre: Science Fantasy

Setting: a big city in a sub-tropical climate, surrounded by jungles and plains that have been gripped by a powerful virus that contorts nature and all living things

Short Summary: A young girl from the country travels to the city to find her missing sister and gets involved with an organisation that strives to perfect the human body. An ambitious scientist fights to be recognised for her genius and to keep her past mistakes secret. An old woman is forced to join a struggle she has been hiding from for years and rediscover forgotten powers to try and save her grandchild. All three of them will shape the face of the city.

#ok so this is the first intro #mostly for my own organisation #let's go #fantasy writing #writeblr #my writing #english version #leviathan world #wip: seeds beneath our skin #wip: honey cakes and bloody satin #wip: half the lights #wip: and surrendered the flesh