#(also angst)

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

Danny couldn't really explain why he always answered this specific summoning ritual. It was like a feeling. One of warmth. Of a mug of hot cocoa in your hands and a nice weighted blanket dropped around your shoulders as a fire blazed in the hearth in front of you, keeping the chill in the rest of the room at bay.

Danny always lost himself in the sensation and found himself back in that stupid circle of protection with that same wierd guy demanding answers. But Danny didn't know anything about a "Lazarus Pit" or a "Pit Madness" let alone a cure for it. Even if he did he wasn't going to tell Red Robin anything after all the times he'd used the marriage summoning spell to get him here.

Earlier on Red had explained it was the only spell known to thier universe that could summon an entity from "The Lazarus Dimension" Which he guessed was another name for the ghost zone and Phantom was the only one to ever be summoned.

Danny couldn't help but wonder why...

After escaping Bird boy and his supernatural pop quiz (oh look, another test for him to flunk) he returns home only to discover his parents had seen him get summoned and accused him of being a ghost that replaced thier baby boy.

Naturalally the next time Red Robin had summoned Phantom he was angry. He was tired and dirty from being on the run from his parents, his worlds US government, and Vlad. Not to mention his own rogues gallery didn't exactly cut him any slack.

So Danny decided that if Red Robin wanted to abuse the power of a marriage ritual than the very least he can do is put his money where his mouth is.

Danny grinned and exited the magic circle, taking delight in Reds widening eyes before he lunged. A kiss sealed the deal, making sure Danny had a safeish place to stay.

After all, married couples in the infinite realms were obligated and even compelled to protect and care for eachother.

[reverieaudios]

I'm outlining the script that is the direct result of Cyril and Dove winning the patreon poll for the Catalyst and let's just say

[lnuns]

You thought you knew what it was to fear.

Six years old, running, running from a sister whose sparking fingertips had shifted the world into those who have and those who have not. You thought that learning to run at the crackle of popping embers and jumping at the sight of one meant to be your truest ally was fear.

Eleven years old, a mother's desperate touch, words whispered in the night, then gone, gone, gone. You learned then that fear must be absence, the cold brought by the reality of being left with no one to stand between you and the flames.

Thirteen years old, finally standing, finally being heard, finally showing you were worthy to lead, worthy to be called son. You learned then that fear was fire. Pleading, crying, on your knees, fear was a father demanding respect and the knowledge that nothing short of impossibility could take that fear away.

Sixteen years old, hope spluttered into your heart and dared to take fear's hard worn place. You chased, you schemed, you fought, and impossible became possible. Perhaps this was how fear died.

But you did not know fear.

Sixteen years old, a twelve year old child running through the trees away from a stronghold you'd risked everything to save him from. Anger, you expected. Frustration, disappointment, the chorus of failure, failure, failure that never quite ended. But what you did not expect was the earth to move beneath your fist as you smacked the ground in frustration, the shifting of rock as if it were no more than water beneath your fingers.

But the water too betrayed you, as you ran back to the ship, back toward normalcy and the everyday sort of fear you thought you knew. Perhaps it was the anger, the frustration, the disappointment, but as you tried to loose the rowboat you'd so carefully hidden, the waves rather than the ropes responded to your touch.

It wasn't until you were alone in your room that you finally began to understand that you had never known anything at all about fear. Perhaps it was the delusion brought about by lack of sleep, irritation, or a hundred other things, but in that fateful moment you looked at the space between your fingertips and tried the impossible.

A faulty hatch was easy to blame for the gust of wind that roared through your room, ripping open doors and scattering your careful collection of scrolls across the room. But it could not be blamed for what grew inside your heart as you began to wonder.

Sixteen years old, sitting shell shocked between the remains of your honor, your purpose, your sense of self. Somehow, you had gotten it wrong, everyone had gotten it wrong, and now here you were, with the earth sliding at your feet, the water pulling at your arms, the air dancing between your fingertips, and the fire dying inside your heart.

Fear was not sisters or fathers, not failure or duty, not even a burned face and its shattered honor.

Sixteen years old, and now Zuko knew that fear was hope. And hope might be the one thing that finally shattered him.

Oh hey ya'll- just a lil Zuko is the Avatar story I've been working on that I of course had to draw! Let me know what you think? Should I write it all out (an outline does exist 🙃)?

[dramashii]

Was it just a love tribulation?

LOVE YOU SEVEN TIMES (2023)

[gardenwons]

read a poem today that had a line of What's God to a woman's love anyway? so now im making angel!jungwon x angel!reader defying God :))

[pandanomalous]

I've finally finished the first chapter of this beast. In short, it's a reimagining of one of the many variations of Kaitlyn and Dylan's kitchen encounter in Chapter 10, and the consequences of one person's actions triggering a...butterfly effect, if you will.

Rating: M

Summary: Kaitlyn was supposed to protect everyone. Kaitlyn was supposed to kill these monsters. Kaitlyn was supposed to let herself get ripped apart if it meant she’d be saving someone else. Kaitlyn was supposed to die. Not Dylan.

Not.

Fucking.

Dylan.

---

"The Sun. The vitality of a new day. There's still time to wake up to the warmth of a night survived. Your choices, your actions... Your very life hangs in the balance. It's up to you to find your path in the darkness, and see the sun rise once again."

[athenaareia]

do I think the grishaverse au and the divorce au do not get the deserved appreciation as compared to my other perpollo works? yes. do i talk about it? not fucking enough.

[snarky-magpie]

Inside each fic writer, there are two wolves. In other words, I can't decide what's my next one-shot supposed to be. Help.

[queersouthasian]

Listen, I am very happy with whatever they gave us this episode, the longing, the staring, the confusion, and obviously the kiss but omg omfg MAJORITY OF THE KISS IS IN THE COMING EPISODE

[clever-fox-studios]

Happy Mermay!

I finally made something I want to continue progressively between other Azil content

[pigeonneaux]

I need 29398284 hours of video of orelsan being drunk and doing stupid bullshit please and thank you

[raepritewrites]

Hehehe im writing again and i decided to go back to my roots of Jason!Red Hood angst, buckle up buttercups there's finally a sequel coming soon to "Jason, do you wanna build a snowman?" aka the chapter someone called me Satan for writing and yes im still proud of that dammit

[apersonshapedcomputer]

My Aasimar and Teifling Buddy Comedy Brainworm: Backstory

I really wanna use my aasimar twilight domain cleric Belou and his buddy Mavvir for something again.

Belou's backstory is that he was raised in a remote idyllic town, and is decended from its revered founder.

The whole town is part of a religion that Belou's ancestor led, based off a holy book he found one night in his darkest hour of need. Belou's family are thus respected religious leaders.

He grew up with everyone having these huge expectations for him since he is the town's chosen one, a scourge aasimar fortold by prophecy to be the one who will wage holy war in their god's name against the infernal forces of the infernal and blasphemous outside world.

✨But here's the kicker✨

The holy book that Belou's ancestor found was actually written as a practical joke/creative writing exercise by a group of gods. The diety his whole town worships does not exist.

Mind you, other gods in this realm are very real and are liable to interfere with mortal lives for shits and giggles, but this one is pure fiction even in universe.

Needless to say, Belou has some issues from being raised in this environment.

So, our good man decides to see a bit of the world. Get an understanding of this wretched place he will one day wage holy war against. Totally not running away from the pressure he's being put under, no siree!

He's been away from home for about a week before he meets Mavvir, a young teifling scholar. Mavvir spends all of 10 minutes talking to Belou before going "Oh, that god? Yeah, they're not real. One of my cousins is in service to one of the gods who wrote that "holy" book and managed to get a copy that includes notes from the authors. Actually, lemme show you, we'll stop by my family's library."

Bam, his whole world view gets turned on its head. Mavvir's frankly outragiously large family sets him up with a nice room to have his breakdown in, and once he gets past the "my whole life is a lie and my entire town would happily see the world burn in the name of a god that never existed" thing he has an epiphany.

He can be just some dude. He can chill.

He's not even a scourge aasimar like his town thought, he's a protector. He could just... chill with his really nice new buddy Mav and see the world that he was kept from for so long. No more grand destiny. No more paladin training. No more crushing expectations. No bloody crusade of "holy justice". Just a guy living life and trying to spread good vibes with his bestie.

Cue Bel and Mav, riding off into the sunset to look at cool rocks and live out their epic bromance (romance?).

[shamefulzombie]

Not Perfect

[eydilily]

i'll tell you what, its really cute

[adiraofthetals]

I am rewatching Fallout again. I am sorry for the person I will become.