#......and maybe it's because we literally live at the end of the city. Far from the big shops......sigh...............

[rainofthetwilight]

gonna try even more to find any dragons rising sets around here bc I NEED a minifigure I can take w/ me to makkah

[stealingyourbones]

Danny, being a halfa, falls under the strange category of people who can converse with the dead and act in their names. Most mediums simply convey messages. It was rare for someone to be able to fulfill a ghost’s dying request and have that act tied to the ghost’s core.

Honestly it’s annoying.

He doesn’t get any alone time anymore for homework or hobbies. The dead are constantly pestering Danny to help with their desires - which, sure, it helps them move on which means they’re out of Danny’s hair, but come on!! Give a guy a break! Just because he doesn’t need as much sleep as a fully living person doesn’t mean he can go without entirely!

“No Scott,” Danny repeated for the fifth time, “I am not flying to California tonight. Do you know how far that is? Literally the other coast of this massive continent. Meet me there in August like everyone else on the list.”

Spending the first spring break of college creating a map and calendar for Last Rites was not something Danny expected when he moved to Gotham.

Why did this city have so many ghosts?! It was ridiculous. And he thought Amity Park was bad? At least the ghosts here were mostly Shades. Not visible to anyone unless they were also dead-adjacent or had The Sight or a bloodline curse or a magical amulet… you know what? There were enough of those in this curse ridden city, why couldn’t these ghosts go find one of those people instead? Danny was exhausted.

So exhausted he didn’t notice the vigilante dropping down from the rooftop.

“Hey there kid, you alri-”

“Yeah yeah,” Danny waved a hand dismissively at the voice without looking up. “Wait in line like everyone else. But honestly you’d be better off coming back tomorrow when I’ve had some sleep.”

“Think maybe you outta get started on that sleep now, bud?” the voice behind him spoke in a calm careful tone.

One Danny had heard all too often since dying.

His head jerked sideways to stare wide-eyed at Nightwing, who tensed just a little as if expecting Danny to run or fight. Instead he let out a groan and slumped onto the park bench, rubbing his eyes to ease the burn of fatigue. He’d been coming out to this park at the corner of campus each night to keep the Shades from mobbing him all day long in classes, but they’d spread the word around Gotham that he was here and his precious spring break had become a non-stop line of requests and arguments. Made sense he’d caught the attention of one of the Bats. Should have expected it sooner.

Danny ignored all the voices around him and looked at Nightwing directly as he prattled off his usual list when someone caught him talking to thin air.

“No, I’m not hallucinating. I got all my Rogue Gallery immunizations the day I checked onto campus. I’m not schizophrenic. The only meds I take are for adhd and the occasional Tylenol. I’m not a danger to myself or others. Unless they attack me first.”

Nightwing nodded along, but tilted his head at the end.

“I’m talking to the dead,” Danny answered the unspoken question in a tired monotone, waiting for the usual skepticism or plea for help with lost loved ones.

“Oh. Okay then.”

“What?” That wasn’t expected.

“No yeah, that makes sense.”

Danny was sure his jaw was on the ground. “You… you believe me?”

“Well sure,” the hero shrugged and chuckled. “I can’t see ghosts myself but I know a couple magicians who work with one, and my little brother Robin has a ghost on his team - she’s actually visible most of the time so I don’t know if that’s a special skill or something else going on. But I’m glad you’re okay and don’t need any emergency medication. I know a couple 24 hour pharmacies that would help but it’s nice when they’re not needed. We don’t get a lot of mediums around Gotham holding court at night so you really can’t fault me for checking in.”

Danny was still floating in the relief of not being questioned or doubted. That hadn’t happened since Jazz found out his secret. She’d had plenty of questions about his halfa status, of course, but never called him crazy for talking to things others couldn’t see. Even Sam and Tucker would forget sometimes and give him strange looks before realizing he was dealing with a Shade, Wisp, or Memory.

He didn’t realize he was wobbling until Nightwing’s arms shot out to stabilize him.

Danny blinked up at the pretty face that was trying not to chuckle, held by strong arms, and so far past tired he might be getting delirious after all because his brain seemed to have lost its filter and he said out loud,

“You actually believe me. I think I love you.”

Then the horrifying embarrassment hit at the same time as Nightwing’s laughter. Which… sounded delighted rather than mean spirited?

“Well now it’s your turn to wait in line, cuz that’s the fourth confession I’ve had this week!” They both devolved into snorts and giggles, Danny still relying on those arms for balance, but when they’d caught their breath the vigilante said, “Come on, you’ve really got to get some sleep. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

Ignoring the whispers and grumbles of the Shades was easier with someone walking beside him.

This is so incredibly cute oml. It’s so rare to see the bats actually go with the flow and god it isn’t done enough. 12/10 immaculate, glorious.

The entire plot I can see so clearly in my mind dude:

Danny chatting to Nightwing as they walk to his dorm

Nightwing asking some casual questions about ghosts and Danny asking about vigilante work.

Nightwing informs the Bats of Danny as he might be a valuable asset in the future.

Nightwing helps free shades with Danny and he realizes why Danny is so incredibly tired all the time.

Nightwing managing to stumble into Danny every day of his break, slowly getting to know each other more and more and becoming really good friends (perhaps lovers 👀).

Wonderful stuff man ty for the ask!

[decojellyfish]

So we saw Guard dog! ghost and kitten! reader

Rescued fighting dogs! Ghost and Soap with cat! reader

how about we get some of Price adopting a puppy! reader and reader having to learn the ropes from Older dogs! Ghost, Soap, and Gaz(maybe??)?

or just Price rescuing another former fighting dog! reader and them being all defensive against former fighting dogs! Ghost, Soap and Gaz(maybe??), maybe even fighting against them when they(soap) try to get too close for reader’s comfort

Thank you so much for being my second request!! I decided to go with the second prompt you offered me, and I had fun writing it! I just don't have fun making you guys cry because, fair warning, this one is gonna be angstyyy... 😔 But I hope you guys enjoy!

------

Bite

Hybrid AU! TF141 Retired Fight Dog! Gaz, Ghost, and Soap x Retired Fight Dog! GN! Reader x Owner! Price Reader is only addressed as ‘you’

SFW ~ Angst

Warnings: Brief/occasional swearing, mentions of abuse, depression, extreme violence, trauma

───♡───────────── Beginning Your body ached. You didn’t know if it was because you were starving, or if it was your muscles and joints crying out for help from your most recent fight. It was a couple of hours ago, and it was rough. Your previous owner had disowned you when he found a new pup to use and abuse for profit. Part of you was happy, the years of abuse and ruthless training were over. The other part of you was absolutely terrified. You had no more food, no treats, no worn-out bed for you to sleep on, and no roof over your head.

You’d been homeless for nearly a year. You gave up on keeping exact track months ago. Your slightly sunken stomach never ceases its eternal growl, constantly yearning for food. Dumpster diving has become a part of your lifestyle. You had managed to find some food, albeit moldy and/or coated in garbage juices, but it was still food. ‘Food is fight fuel’ was constantly echoing through your head, while you fought off the sickness going through your head as realization set in that you were literally eating garbage. Sometimes, you even wondered if food was even worth it. You weren’t fighting as much as you used to. Sometimes you were suddenly assaulted by other stray fighter dogs as well, forcing you to live in constant paranoia, anxiety, and a never-ending feeling like you had to fight.

There were times that you even lashed out at strangers because of this constant fear. Domesticated dogs would find themselves abruptly thrown into a fight when you were around. They would leave with scratches, bites, bruises, and even chunks of flesh missing due to your fierce bite. In the underground fighting scene, you were most known for how gnarly the wounds from your bites would be.

This would result in animal control being called on you. But you’d evaded them countless times, which meant that you were far from where you originally came from. You would bounce from alley to alley, town to city. You were far from home if you could even call where you came from ‘a home’.

Though you were far from old enemies, you still made new ones. You were so used to lashing out that you were still getting into fights, but now you were getting into fights with fight dogs you didn’t even know.

Some days, you were tired. So tired, you just wanted to lay in your current alleyway and just rot. Let the bugs eat away at you, sometimes you even want to turn yourself into the pound. At least there you would have food in your belly and a semi-warm place to sleep. On other days, you were mad. So mad, you just wanted to paint the town red with any kind of blood, even your own.

Today was a tired day. You were lying against a wall, it was raining. Rain would be the closest you had to being bathed. Your rotted clothes were soaked and falling apart, your hair sticking to your face and skin as you stared at the opposing wall. Your eyes had nothing behind them, you were lost in your little world. Your happy place.

You imagined yourself in a cabin, or a cottage, just somewhere secluded and cozy. You had a loving partner, and pups of your own to take care of. A garden in the backyard, full of fruit, vegetables, and herbs. A flower garden in the front yard, full of daffodils, tulips, rose bushes, and trumpet lilies. You wore soft clothes like they were made of clouds. In your happy place, you were warm. In your happy place, you were safe.

Unfortunately, you were ripped out of your happy place by a smell. A familiar smell. Multiple familiar smells. Your heart had already started to beat rapidly, and the sense of adrenaline you had when in the fighting ring was coming back, slapping you in the face. You shifted your position from laying back against a wall to standing up and ready to fight, your teeth already beginning to show and a low growl slowly leaving your throat.

Familiar smells were never good, it meant that someone who had been made an enemy was close. Another fight was about to happen. You could hear men chatting with each other, though it was muffled by the ringing in your ear as your brain was now filled with nothing but adrenaline, panic, and one word. Fight.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Price was going on his weekly walk with his boys, all rescues. His home had become somewhat of a mini rehabilitation center. His pups, although fully grown dogs, were his pride and joy to be around. Gaz was his first rescue about seven years ago, Soap was rescued about two years after Gaz, and Ghost had been rescued three years before today. Price, himself, was a retired military veteran.

He enjoyed going on walks with his pups, he found it to be a nice bonding experience. Although today was rainy, it didn’t stop the group from following tradition. Gaz loved the rain, the sound and the feeling of raindrops hitting windows, umbrellas, or even himself was beyond calming for him. Soap didn’t particularly like rain, it mostly made him think of those unbelievably sad scenes in movies that involved rain, like an intense breakup. Ghost was neutral about it.

But Ghost found himself focused on something else, a smell. He glanced over at Soap, who could also smell this sudden scent. “Stop.” Ghost spoke firmly, grabbing Price’s shoulders and looking at the rest of the group. “Stay here, I smell something.” “Ghost, I don’t want you getting hurt-“ Price protested, only to be interrupted by Soap. “Stay, somethin’s here tha’ could rip out your throat.”

Gaz was worried as well, even though the scent wasn’t as familiar to him as it was to Ghost and Soap. He could smell a large amount of adrenaline and even panic or fear mixed in.

Ghost slowly walked up to the scent source and braced himself, slowly watching as a familiar face came into view. The two of you had been through plenty of fights together, each parting putting up a massive fight. You were snarling at him when he approached you, your body unconsciously moving closer to the wall, further away from him as he grew closer. Your hollow, starved appearance had him taken aback. You looked terrible. You were coated in scabs, bruises, and open wounds that had miraculously not gotten infected.

Your heart was beating so fast, that both you and Ghost could hear it. He had his hands up, his palms open as he showed he wasn’t looking for a fight. That didn’t stop you though. All you could see was all those fights, years ago. Ghost snarling back at you before he would nearly tear a chunk out of you while you almost ripped both of his ears off. You lunged at him with a loud bark, tackling him as you began to scratch and bite at him.

The group was startled, and terrified. They would all run to Ghost as they tried to get this rabid dog off of him. Of course, four men against you was an unfair fight and you were swiftly removed from the fight.

Soap held you against the ground, crouching over you as he pinned both of your arms behind your back as you continued to snarl and attempt to bite. You panted and stared at them with wide eyes, mostly focusing on Ghost and Soap since they were enemies from the past.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, aren’t you..?” You spoke shakily, to either of the boys. Soap could feel how strong and deep your breaths were as you hyperventilated.

All the men shared a glance of worry, Soap spoke up, “We’re not those dogs anymore.” Ghost would nod in shared agreement. “You don’t look so good, since the last time I saw you.” He looked down at you, noting how your stomach churned from hunger, how tired your eyes were, and your slightly raspy breath. Even your recent wounds worried him, some nearly looking like early stages of infection.

You grunted as you struggled under him, “Yeah, well, ‘m happy to see you guys living the high life.” You grumbled, the other dogs’ ears twitching as they heard a slight crack in your voice. You couldn’t ignore it, you were jealous. They didn’t look as tired as they did at your last fight, not on edge all the time, they looked well fed, and they smelled good too. And worst of all, what made you want to lash out at all of them, even their owner, was the fact that they looked happy with this new life. The life that you desired that always seemed to be out of reach.

All the men looked back at Price, Gaz included, with one question in their eyes. ‘Can we keep them?’

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taking you back to their home was a fight in it of itself. You couldn’t help but be scared. Maybe they were all tricking you, maybe they were gonna lock you up in their house and sell you off to another owner in the underground fighting scene. Maybe they really were going to kill you. You only felt slightly safe with Gaz, but that’s because he didn’t look as scarred a fighter as Ghost and Soap, and his eyes held a safer gaze than the other two. He would hold your hand on the way home, firmly but protectively. However, he only did this after you attempted to run away from the group about 4 times.

Arriving at the Price household, there was an overwhelming amount of smells. Everything smelled like all the boys, but individually and in one unit all at the same time. You would stay close to the front door at the entrance, scared to step one foot further into the house. You still didn’t know if it was safe or not. Price respected this, though. He had Gaz let go of your hand so you could settle into the house at your own pace. The look of fear in your eyes was one that he was familiar with, he’d seen it in all his other boys when he first brought them home.

He had the boys all continue on with their night, only giving you directions to the bathroom in case you needed it at some point.

As time went on, your legs would grow tired of just standing. You remained seated, close to the door as you watched the household live out their lives. Price would only stop by you once for the night, and it was to give you a late-night snack and to wish you a good night. He had set down a plate with pieces of watermelon and a glass of water. He left after that, supposedly going to bed. The boys would stay up a bit later, they would watch you in secret. But you were quickly able to tell they were spying on you, however, you let them continue.

You saw it as a way to test if they were trustworthy. Your ears slightly twitch as you listen to their whispers.

“...how do you know them…?” Gaz would whisper, curiosity lacing his voice. “...Ghost and I have had a few tussles with ‘em years ago…” “...Fierce dog… don’t underestimate them…” Ghost grumbled in reply, Soap nodding in agreement. “...Nearly took mah whole face off…” Soap chuckled. “...They almost got my ears…” Ghost added.

You would faintly smile at the warning of underestimating you as a fighter dog. But then you were reminded that you were a fighter dog. And a successful one. Any moral being would never want to be a successful fighter dog. That meant you were scary and either could have killed or even mutilated another dog. Memories of all your fights would flash across your mind, like a blinding camera shot. Your successful ones, the ones where you would lose and your owner showed you what bad dogs get for losing. The bits of compassion you would feel for your opponent as they bleed out, or yowled in pain as their bones broke, pellets of skin torn off, or their bleeding gums from when you knocked nearly all their teeth out.

You wanted to hug them, apologize to them, tell them that you wished you could fix them. Only to have those moments of kindness wiped from your mind as the shrieks and cheers of your owner and the people who bet money on you were released into the air.

Coming back to reality, you were perplexed when you didn’t hear the whispers anymore. Taking a chance, you glanced up at the boys. Only to see that they were now staring at you, curious and worried. You didn’t know why they were staring until you heard a soft pit-pat against the floor beneath you.

Glancing down, you saw little droplets. Your hand instinctively raised to your face, feeling little beads of tears and the streaks they left behind on your face. You would quickly smear your tears away and shoot the dogs a mean growl before reluctantly stuffing a piece of watermelon into your mouth. You just wanted something else to focus on aside from the stares you were getting right now.

An hour later, the men had all gone to sleep and you had eaten all the food Price had given you and drank all the water he offered. You stayed awake throughout the whole night, however. You still didn’t trust anyone, believing the house was a trap.

Morning arrived, your eyes tired but still open as you didn’t want to lose your guard. Price was the first one up, yawning and scratching at his chest as he walked into the room. He would glance down at you, smiling when he saw you’d eaten all your food.

“Food was good, yeah? Don’t worry, I’ll get you some more soon.” He chuckled, taking your empty dishes away and heading into the kitchen.

You felt awkward now, just sitting there as Price had begun to cook breakfast. You would quietly stand up and slink into the kitchen, sitting on the cold tile as you would watch him from a random corner of the room. It had been about ten minutes before Price would look over his shoulder to check on you, only seeing that you weren’t in your previous spot. He would then glance down at you in your new spot, chuckling to himself.

“Got bored of the old spot?” He asked before going back to cooking. He didn’t expect you to be speaking right out the gate, all the other boys were like that too when he first took them in. After a few minutes, Gaz would walk in, rubbing at his eye. A big smile formed on his face as he smelled the currently cooking food. “Smells good in here, Price.” He would then finally look at you, mildly surprised you had moved but he would regain his smile.

Waving at you, he would approach you but keep his distance. “Did you sleep well last night…?” You silently stared at him, your restlessness very obvious, especially in your eyes. “Did you sleep- at all last night…?” He looked concerned, his brows only furrowing more when you shook your head no. “...Too scared?” You stayed quiet. “That’s okay, Ghost and I were like that too.” He smiled at you. You couldn’t deny it, he was a comforting ball of sunshine to you.

“I could set up a bed on the couch for you, I could even keep the telly on for you if you like falling asleep to that sort of thing.” You remained quiet as he talked to you, causing him to let out a slightly amused but comforting huff. “That’s okay, you can think about it during breakfast.”

Breakfast included food that was the most delicious food you had devoured in years. French toast, fried eggs, bacon. You would quietly inhale the first actual meal you’d had in a long time, everyone else watching you at the kitchen table, some trying not to laugh at your eagerness.

You awkwardly stared at everyone else, wiping away some yolk on your mouth with your hand. Price chuckled, “That reminds me, we ought to give you a bath today and get you some new clothes.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You awkwardly sat in the tub as Gaz would scrub a sudsy sponge along your back. Price was washing some clothes, making sure the scent was cleaned out so you had no trouble with wearing them.

“Don’t worry, I was like this when Price first took me in.” He laughed a little. “Quiet, scared, and I didn’t know if this place was my permanent home. But it is my home, and it’s gonna be your home too.” He smiled at you, now rubbing shampoo into your hair. “...what’s it like?” You looked up at him. “Y’know, living here? What’s it like?”

Gaz thought for a bit, also trying to make sure none of the shampoo got in your eyes. “Well, it’s nice. Good food, good clothes, good comfort. Price will sometimes pick up our favorite snacks for us, he’ll do that for you too, you just need to ask him or write it on the grocery list. We go on weekly walks around the block, sometimes we go to the park which is really fun. Especially with Soap, he really likes to play games at the park.”

That surprised you, you never took Soap to be a ‘fun games at the park’ kind of dog. Well, that could also be because you never got to see him or Ghost as a domesticated dog, your only memories of them being in the fighting rink. Maybe they have changed. Maybe you should give them a chance to show you they’ve changed.

Maybe they were doing that all along since they found you, only holding you down instead of attacking you in response to being attacked by an old foe.

The bath was eventually drained and you were dried off with a towel, Price coming in with a pair of folded up clothes, a t-shirt and some sweatpants. You were left alone in the bathroom to get dressed, also to let you just have time to yourself.

After a few minutes, you stepped out of the bathroom in your new attire. You couldn’t lie, the clothes were beyond comfy and were nice and warm. Probably fresh out of the dryer. The rest of the boys were on the couch, watching a show on the TV. You would stare at them before slowly beginning to move your legs towards the couch as well.

They would notice your approaching, but wouldn’t bring any extra attention to it. They all remember their first time trying to get comfortable in the new home. It honestly warmed their hearts watching you hesitate on where to sit before eventually picking a spot and huddling into the soft pillows.

Price was already dressed for the day and was writing down the current shopping list before slipping his shoes on. “Oy, Gaz, you’re coming with me for groceries today.” He called out to the couch, Gaz promptly getting up and putting his own shoes on. He waved to you and the other two before stepping out the front door, Price giving a wave as well. “We’ll be back in 30.”

You sat there in silence, now stuck with your past enemies. There was tension, no doubt. At least, that’s what you felt. You were the one who was constantly looking over at the boys, a nervous sweat forming on your forehead. The two were just sitting there, watching the commercials play and pass by.

Now that the only pacifists in the house were gone, they were going to pounce at any second. You were sure of it. At any given moment, they were gonna do it. So you sat there, in a state of constant fear and bracing yourself for a fight you didn’t even know would happen.

Ghost noticed your condition, Soap a few seconds later would see it too. “... you okay, pup?” Soap would ask, seeing the little bits of sweat on your skin. “You’re scared.” Ghost stated, looking deep into your defensive form. “You don’t need to be, you’re safe now. We all are. We aren’t the same dogs you fought those years ago.”

They continued to watch you, watching as you stayed quiet and just stared at them expectantly. “We know you’re also no’ the same dog from those fights. Ye dinnae have a choice, only doin’ tha’ for your own survival. Like us.” Soap’s eyes were full of empathy and concern.

“No need to be scared. It’s safe here.” He smiled at you, slowly reaching out to you to rub your shoulder.

You only saw the worst in people, you would see a possible future where he was reaching out to strangle you instead of comforting you. You thought you could see his teeth start to bare, maybe he was snarling at you.

You felt like you were back in the fighting ring. You could feel the adrenaline begin pulsing and coursing through your veins.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You didn’t know how you did it, it went by so fast. The last thing you saw was Soap’s teething smile and his hand. Now you were pressed up against a wall, hyperventilating at the sight of what you just did.

First, you  grabbed his arm, throwing him to the ground before you began to bite and tear at his flesh and clothes. You woke up when Ghost pinned you to the ground, keeping your wrists together so you couldn’t hurt anyone or yourself. You scrambled away from him and coward into a corner.

You thought you were doing good, only a day into this house and you were doing so good. You didn’t feel like a good pup, not anymore. You weren’t deserving of this house, these new clothes. the food that resided in your stomach. You were a bad dog. There was no way you could look any of the boys in the eye now. Not after what you did.

Lost in a tsunami of your thoughts, you couldn’t hear Ghost trying to reassure you, that it was normal for an outburst like this to happen. He, himself, did it to Price. He brought Soap to the bathroom, taking out the first aid kit along with a few extra bandages. Living in a house with a bunch of retired fighter dogs, the first aid kits would be a bit more extreme than a regular, everyday one.

When he returned to check on you, to tell you that Soap was going to be okay, he didn’t see you in your corner. Not even the spot you were in on your first day here. But he saw that right next to the spot, the door was left open.

They lost you. ───♡───────────── End

If you have any requests, or asks, feel free to submit them!

[rayroseu]

Wait this is actually interesting, so from what the story implies, Wild Rose Castle is weaker than Black Scale Castle because it probably has no magical atmosphere that serves as its defense, there's probably fewer troops here, and the fact that its just on a clear meadow makes the terrain not suitable for defenses unlike Black Scale who is atop a mountain and covered in a Valley.

So I kinda think that Wild Rose Castle is a newly built castle in Briarland. After all, Meleanor was a kid only 200 years ago so Wild Briar is probably that age as well (or more), i think that age is young (compared to Black Scale which probably several centuries old?) thats why it has weaker defense facilities.

Maybe Wild Briar is older as Black Scale, but this game says this is Meleanor's castle so I assume she's the one who had built this.

But I have this HC that this castle is actually built because of Levan. For his diplomatic mission between humans. Building a castle in an easy terrain would make sense to make it easier for magicless humans to transport in. Because I don't really expect(?) Maleanor who is a military commander, which she probably has knowledge of strategies, to not see how disadvantegous this location is considering its close to humans

But I also think Wild Briar was built as like a refuge for the faes that live far away outside Dragon City(I wont call it dragonopolis lol)

Wild Rose being a few centuries old also kinda makes sense since the Silver Owls only recognize Meleanor as the only ruler in Briarland, they probably arent aware theres a queen named Maleficia because she's ancient(?) atleast I didnt caught any silver owls mentioning her iirc(?) They went to the mountains near Dragon city yes-- but like it was to pursue General Lilia and not to besiege Black Scale as well even they kinda had the potential to do so since they took down Maleanor and Silver Owls' is implied to be very greedy--

I actually think its more interesting to not summarize Maleanor's cause of death as just her overestimating her win against Knight of Dawn-- I actually think its because of several reasons such as:

"Wrong time" in working out the diplomatic relations between the conflict between humans and faes, Levan's plan to educate wasn't pointless effort, but I wish the story states as well what he did to counter the fact that the faes hates humans not because of a misunderstanding, but because of their mistreatment towards faes(the story literally implies rhe humans kills faes meanwhile we have yet to see a royal guard fae that killed humans the story only tells us they chased them away), Levan does this when its clear that the Silver Owls was getting hostile, like objectively speaking, this was kinda not the right time to communicate and Meleanor was the receiving end of the build up hostility of the Silver Owls

This is kinda countering my first point, but Meleanor's decisions was kinda weird too in the story lol, why send your best Generals to the enemy fortress.... 😭💥 But I actually think this is interesting as well, because its likely a reference to the wars in LiveAction Maleficent... I remember watching that movie especially Maleficent 2: Mistress of Evil and just wondering why the Moors never plans (and even if they do its very simple, just charge in and overpower the enemy with strength), they just charge in instead of treating it "like a chess" where you save your best pieces in dangerous situations and everyone has a role in dispelling the enemy. They also hold this belief that only the strong ones would guarantee their success and heavily relies on them. Meanwhile, Queen Ingrid used deception and control to subdue all the faeries. Like Meleanor/Faes vs Humans, the faes never thinks about what the human enemy plans, they rely on raw dodging it lol probably alluding to the fact that the faes have trouble thinking like a human.

And lastly this point lol, poor choice of headquarters, the terrain is easy for humans to invade in, and the castle is still weak, also the fact that Wild Briar was alone in fighting several human nations was a factor as well because it couldnt get back up in time because it was too far away from Black Scale Castle, kinda adding Wild Briar was outnumbered too atp

[boba-beom]

bff!beomgyu NSFW

okay but beomgyu as your best friend since birth, who’s literally experienced everything you have because you went thru it together.

the whole kindergarten, elementary, high school and a shit prom where both your dates bailed on you so you thought you guys were so dumb for not just going with each other in the first place. after all, that’s what best friends do.

and then when it came to college, you moved away and he went to your city’s college. you only came back for the holidays and every time you came home, beomgyu would have inches added to his height, his features fitting his face, his jaw defining, shoulders broader every time you hugged him.

and then you come back after not visiting for so long, excited to see everyone. especially beomgyu. you eye the expanse of his large family house, and as soon as you knock on their door, an unfamiliar face opens it, followed by what you assume is beomgyu’s voice calling from inside. “babe, who’s at the door?”

and they stutter, their face contorting with confusion because they didn’t know your name. and when you tell them, they relay it to beomgyu, who’s now running to meet you, opening the door wider and his supposedly significant other was standing aside before walking back inside as he pulls you in for a deep hug, his face tucked into the side of your neck and his arms not wanting to let go of you.

a part of you didn’t want to hug him back because he never told his partner about you? not even a small slip or mention? your arms froze, not wrapping around him until he speaks.

“I’m so happy you’re home. I’ve missed you.” is what he mumbles against your skin, and because of that, his lips also move against your skin. you’re fighting back a shaky sigh, feeling the hairs on your arms stand. you missed him too.

you arrived just in time for dinner with his family, your family and another family, not so familiar with them but you assume it’s the family of beomgyu’s partner.

you’re seated beside beomgyu; he had already pulled out your chair for you before you could even choose. but you notice he didn’t do that to his partner sitting opposite him. you were all towards the end of the table so it wouldn’t be too much for him to go around, but you shrug off the thought.

after eating plenty of good food you decide to catch up with beomgyu’s brother and the rest of the guests. but you were mostly listening to their conversations instead. maybe also because beomgyu’s hand was placed high up on your thigh, fingers drawing shapes, but you realise they may be letters since you used to do that to each other’s backs when you were younger.

you blankly stare at no one in particular, your brain and your senses working hard to spell out each letter and you feel an ‘F’ followed by a ‘U’ and his ‘CK’ was joint, finishing with a question mark at the end. you were far from listening to anyone when all you could hear was your pulse drumming in your ears.

not wanting to attract attention to yourself, but you slowly turn your head towards beomgyu, noticing everyones talking to each other so you were able to freely to beomgyu thanks to their grand, rectangular dining table.

“beomgyu, we can’t do that.” you sort of whisper to him, your face blank. you wrap your hand around his wrist, stopping him from caressing your thigh.

“why not?” he whines, and you’ve heard him whine so many times in your 22 years of living, but this one made you throb somewhere only recent thoughts of beomgyu have made you throb.

“your partner is literally sitting in front of you beomgyu-”

“wait, gabe? gabe isn’t my partner, we just hang out a lot since they’re kinda new here and you didn’t come home last holiday.”

you bite the inside of your cheeks, cursing yourself for mishearing when he called their name earlier. yet beomgyu’s hand is deliciously trailing back up your thigh and you don’t stop him, he stops himself instead.

“excuse us, I’m just going to help bring yn’s things to her room.” and you hear beomgyu’s mom joking about how you know your way around and not like you’d walk into his room.

but that’s exactly what you did. what the both of you did. he placed your bags down on the side of his window, pushing his hair back before tackling you onto the bed, wrestling each other just like you used to a long time ago. you’re both panting and he lies on the bed, defeated, with you technically straddling over his growing erection.

the weight of your body over his strained dick has his head rewiring, and flipping you over so you were under him—your legs still spread and he does an experimental grind. he brings his thumb to your bottom lip, tugging it down until you capture it in your mouth, the wet muscle of your tongue flat against the pad of his thumb.

“fuck yn, didn’t know you were dirty like that.” he sighs from the friction, but what he’s seeing right in front of him was what turned him on even more.

you moan around his thumb, sucking it like it was his dick but beomgyu couldn’t take it anymore. “oh nah, I want my cock in your mouth.” is what he says as he pulls his thumb out your mouth, smearing your excess saliva over your clothed nipple.

he lies down beside you, propping himself up on his elbow and waiting for you to lay on your stomach between his thighs, helping yourself and pull his pants and boxers down. grey ck’s, part of the set you gifted him the past christmas.

it was your second time touching his bulge, the first being an accident from when you had to sleep in the same tent while camping, and you rolled over to reach for your phone which you stupidly didn’t put aside and instead felt beomgyu’s morning wood while he was asleep, sleeping on his side and facing you.

“damn beomgyu, when d’you get so big?” your hushed voice had his eyes flutter shut while he concentrated on the feeling of your hand wrapped around the girth of his dick, your thumb sweeping painfully slow over the head and spreading the clear bead around.

“shit yn, you’re killing me right now.” he says through gritted teeth before taking over and holding his shaft, slapping his tip against your bottom lip like it was your own lipstick. “suck me good, and I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll sleep good tonight.”

“god your mouth is so filthy gyu, the fuck.” both your eyes seem hazy when you look at each other, not breaking contact even when you begin sucking on his tip. using your soft lips to stimulate him and his lower abdomen is already twitching.

a series of ‘mmh’s and curses leave beomgyu’s lips, enticing you to take him in deeper until his head hits the back of your throat. you thank your college away from home experience that taught you this. having a couple of fuck buddies before, you’ve never thirsted over a dick than beomgyu’s.

“baby come here, ride me.” his hand cups your cheek, making you lean up as he leans forward to capture your sweet lips with a hint of saltiness. he leans over to reach into his bedside drawer, securing a condom packet between his index and middle finger until you lick along his neck.

“wan’ you to fuck me raw, baby.” is all you say between kisses and he drops the condom, not even caring to close the drawer. and he’s back to attack behind your ear and descending down your neck with slow and wet kisses, sucking and licking on the marked areas, eliciting loud moans when he touches your sweet spot. “make me yours.”

you couldn’t resist the empty feeling inside you, throbbing around nothing, so you align his tip at your entrance. your spit and his precum has him all slicked up and ready to be devoured by your cunny.

sinking down on him did wonders to you, your nails were digging through the thin material of his shirt over his shoulder and his were under your ass, gradually letting you engulf him until your hips were flush.

you didn’t wait a minute to adjust, thinking that if you fuck yourself on his dick then it’ll just feel better that way. his dick was reaching so deep inside you; the build up was coming quicker than you’d hoped. moaning his name had his dick jumping inside of you, kissing your cervix each time you sunk down on him. but as soon as he thrusts his his up, it’s game over for you.

“beomgyu, fuck up into me.” you whine and he assists in holding you up, desperately snapping his hips up into you and watching the way his dick disappears into your pretty pussy.

“ynnn, ugh. quit clenching like that or you’re gonna make me cum.” he throws his head back, chasing his high and fucking into you faster and deeper.

the pitch of your cries grows higher, until beomgyu's ramming his cock leaving you to silently sob, mouth agape and legs beginning to shake, your cunny clenching harder than before and beomgyu follows soon after. his cum spurting out in millisecond intervals inside you until you sit back onto the bed, beomgyu's hands still holding your thighs apart so he can see his load ooze out and drip onto his fresh sheets. he wipes the leaked out cum with his thumb and up to your hole, almost like he was playing around with it.

"beomgyu, you're such a perv– oh–" and he's shoving two fingers inside you, his attempt at keeping his load in his new cum dump <3

"I wanna fuck you in every room in this house. god, I love you yn."

"if you do, we better wrap up next time because I need to finish this degree before having a mini you running around."

[quibbs126]

I’m thinking about it, and I think Optimus banishing Megatron from Iacon with the High Guard was probably one of the worst decisions he could have made to deal with this situation

Because Optimus pretty much left him alone, outside of his home and I’m fairly certain the only remaining city on Cybertron, so to live out in the wilds of the surface, with a bunch of complete strangers whom they literally call nut-jobs and have a strong belief of “strength of one bot over another”, and are also much older and more experienced than him

And in leaving him with the High Guard, he’s likely isolated Megatron even more than if he was banished alone. Because while Optimus and the others have friends they can be vulnerable with and be comfortable talk about their feelings, Megatron does not know these people, and they don’t know him. But he’s now their leader in a group that values strength above all else, and emotions are usually considered a weakness in these sorts of settings. So not only does he have no one to talk to, he has to bottle up his very strong and raw emotions to appear stronger and worthy of his position, thus making them far worse and probably leading to unhealthy coping mechanisms

This could end up not being the case, and the High Guard are very considerate of his emotions. But it’s also very possible the case that they aren’t, or Megatron believes he can’t be vulnerable around them. They (the quartet I mean) don’t know these people, and they’ve really only seen them be violent and aggressive, and Megatron knows he’s an outsider to them. It’s a more likely scenario that they’ll be harmful to Megatron’s mental state rather than helpful

And again, they’re a lot older than him too, and they probably all know this, at least on some level. And thus, he’s far more likely to be influenced by the High Guard’s mentality and beliefs, which we already know aren’t great (even if it’s somewhat justified why they’re the way they are by this point). And assuming they’re pissed at Optimus as well, they could very well try to have Megatron distance himself from his old friends, and it be more successful than if he was alone

But moving away from the High Guard, there’s the fact that Optimus banished him from his home and left him to fend for himself, which Megatron would absolutely take personally just on its own. He was clearly not in a mentally stable place at that point and I think he thinks what he’s doing is right, he’s the one not being like Sentinel while Optimus is. It definitely isn’t right, but he thinks he is. And the banishment to him could not only be Optimus/Orion standing against him, but essentially him saying he’s given up on Megatron, making him leave his home. And I mean, Sentinel did kind of do this to the High Guard 50 cycles ago, so yet another parallel to be made between Optimus and Sentinel

But note that when I say all this, I don’t mean it as a criticism of the movie, that this is a flaw of the plot. I’m fairly certain this was 100% intentional by the writers. It wasn’t just Megatron that created Megatron and led to the war, it was Optimus too, even if he didn’t intend to

Optimus probably thought at the time that this was the best solution in dealing with him. He doesn’t agree with Megatron’s actions but he understands where it all comes from, and he was someone very important to him. So he probably doesn’t want to arrest him, punishing him for what he thought was right and making himself more like Sentinel, oppressing those who were supposed to be on his side. But he still has to be punished for his actions. So by banishment, he is punished while still being allowed to essentially be free, just not in Iacon, and maybe in turn he’ll see his wrongdoings and come back better. And even if the High Guard aren’t ideal, they did help Optimus and Elita rescue their friends, and maybe he thought at least with them he wouldn’t be alone in his thoughts. Also they agreed with Megatron’s ideals and probably shouldn’t be allowed to just roam free in Iacon, especially in this politically fragile state it is right now

But in doing so, Optimus essentially threw Megatron to the wolves and created the perfect environment for his anger and pain to fester and cause him to become more like the Megatron we know in the future

I’m not sure what the actual best solution would have been to this issue though. Maybe it would have been just jailing Megatron? Granted in the short term, it’d probably sting even worse for Megatron, that his own friend would lock him up, and it’d probably make him even more resentful. But at least there, he’d still be in Iacon, with his friends and people who want to help him, and with Optimus and Elita at the helm, they can probably see that he gets treated well and has access to people that can really help him work through it all and see what he did was wrong

But that’s not what happened

[sgtpeppers]

"You are my love, you are my song": Paul & Love As A Duet:

One of my favourite things Paul does in his work is use the idea of singing a song with someone as a metaphor for love or a relationship, so I've catalogued the main instances I think this occurs below!

Now, Paul writes lyrics about music/songs a lot (because he's Paul, he lives and breathes music), so this isn't every song that he references music or even references music in terms of a relationship, but the ones I felt explicitly have a 'loving someone = making music with them' lyric.

Starting in the late sixties we have three songs where there are lines about performing alone, or hearing someone else's song but not necessarily being a part of it.

So let it out and let it in, hey Jude, begin, You're waiting for someone to perform with

Hey Jude (1968)

And when at last I find you Your song will fill the air Sing it loud so I can hear you Make it easy to be near you

I Will (1968)

Far away my lover sings a lonely song And calls me to his side When a song of lonely love invites me on I must go to his side

Goodbye (1969), written for Mary Hopkin

Once we get to Paul's first solo album, where he's actively bringing Linda in on his music, we have this line about singing songs alone in the past tense:

I used to ride on my fast city line Singing songs that I thought were mine alone

Man We Was Lonely (1970)

But in the present tense, has someone to sing his songs with:

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you help me sing my song

Maybe I'm Amazed (1970)

On Wild Life, we have the song that captures the idea completely, Paul and Linda singing to and with each other, both of them simultaneously the song, the singer and a recipient of a love song:

You are my love, You are my song, linger on, You are my song, I am your singer. You are my one You are my own melody, You are my song, I am your singer. Someday when we're singing We will fly away, Going winging. Sing, singing my love song to you. My song is sung, When day is done harmonies will linger on, I am your singer, I am your singer, Singing my love song to you.

I Am Your Singer (1973)

In Venus and Mars, we've got a little nod to the same idea, although perhaps less viewing love as a song to perform together, but certainly tying the idea of love and a song together.

My heart cries out for love and all that goes with loving Love in song, love in song

Love in Song (1975)

Then the idea seems to disappear, but reappears on Tug of War with Here Today, a song we know is about John. This isn't necessarily in the same vein as the Linda songs, but the very literal reading is about the importance of singing with John and keeping someone's memory alive in a song.

And if you take that metaphor of love as a song, the duet can still be kept alive if Paul continues to sing for the both of them.

What about the time we met? Well I suppose that you could say that We were playing hard to get Didn't understand a thing But we could always sing … And if I say I really loved you And was glad you came along Then you were here today, For you were in my song

Here Today (1982)

From here on out my thoughts are more scattered, because I think primarily this idea is something he ties to Linda and John. But there are a few more interesting lyrics I think it's worth adding here.

In Press To Play, we've got a reference to 'our' song, which again, alludes to the idea that love is a song created between two people:

If you should ever feel that something's wrong, I'm going to want to put it right, To bring a happy ending to our song, I'll carry on believing in a love.

Only Love Remains (1986)

On Flaming Pie we have him reflecting on how songs were something he and the other Beatles could come back to, this idea of music being a thread that ties him to other people.

But we always came back to the song We were singing At any particular time

The Song We Were Singing (1997)

On Driving Rain he reflects on a time where he was free, his heart was 'singing' and he was doing that with someone else:

I well remember when my soul was free My heart could sing, so could we

Tiny Bubble (2001)

And then this idea of him constantly reaching out, singing a song and waiting for someone else to join in:

If you love me, won't you call me I've been waiting, waiting too long In my soul is constant yearning Always singing, singing this song

Anyway (2005)

I'm not really trying to make some big point here, I just love this motif and especially the ways I think John, Linda and music all tangle together in his head. I'm not usually one for digging into every little line of a song for some sort of hidden meaning, but I do think it's interesting to note when patterns emerge in a body of work.

If anyone's got an additions/thoughts/corrections (or has written a similar post with a more coherent point), please do share, I love chatting about this stuff and reading other people's thoughts!

[love-toxin]

ELLIE!! SO happy that totk finally released bc there's a chance you might hyperfixate and give me the yandere link content that sustains my life force. oh and uh, cuz we waited so long for this game too, of course!

prrrrr i really do love yan Link! so many potential avenues! i was replaying totk recently (bc i was so excited for it i literally blazed thru the whole gam 8 days after release LOL) and some gems really cropped up:

1. Link makes you a little dream house in Tarrey Town to keep you safe and to take advantage of your inherent housewifery. He's so feral you don't even think about leaving even when he's gone for long stretches of time, because you know he'll track you down and drag you back home because you're not the hero silly! :) you stay home :) where it's safe :)

2. Yiga clan member reader who is constantly being hunted down and "rehabilitated" by the Hylian hero. Which is incredibly frustrating to you because a.) ur trying to kill him and b.) the other yiga quickly lose respect for you/shun you when they find out you're practically Link's little playtoy. Especially when he goes x2 as feral on the other yiga in battle when you're around cause he's bricked up at the very sight of you, and you end up getting chewed out by Kohga for letting him hit it and just escape afterwards.

3. You work at one of the stables or the little inn at Hateno village and Link falls so hard for you he's downright creepy. He's constantly hanging around and bringing you gifts and stuff you didn't ask for but you can't just tell him to go away cause...he's the hero. So you kinda just have to deal with his awkward stare and the fumbled kisses he steals behind the barn and try not to hurt his feelings because what are you gonna do if the hero of time decides to quit saving Hyrule because he got rejected?

4. You're part of the Gerudo/live in Gerudo town and Link is undeterred in his attempts to woo you, even though he can't step foot in town or he'll get locked up. So he either dresses up in the vai outfit or just lies in wait for you to leave the city for one reason or another, and then ambushes you and follows you around like a weird little stalker until you love him. Bonus if he scares off another suitor or saves you from a Molduga or--my personal favourite--your sand seal gets spooked and takes you far out into the desert and strands you by accident, and you're forced to accept Link's help when he comes to save you. And now, you owe him.

5. Much like Link, you're a fellow adventurer/wanderer/merchant/etc. and bump into him out in the wild. Maybe you share a campfire for a night and swap stories, or you give him directions, or you just wave at him in passing, and now Link is completely obsessed with you. He stalks you through the wild areas of Hyrule and never lets any harm befall you, be it monsters or gloom pits or pools of malice or just general unluckiness, and while you don't realize it's him you slowly feel less and less alone when you're out in the field. You swear you can even feel some kind of warmth when you lay down in your tent to sleep, like someone's curled up right next to you....

6. Link kidnaps you and takes you to Hyrule castle where he forcibly makes you pretend to be a princess. He dresses you up in pretty gowns and kills all the monsters lurking around so you'll always be safe, and he acts like you're his damsel in distress that he's constantly saving even though you're just some farmer girl he picked up off the side of the road and fell in love with. You're the pretty princess, he's your loyal knight, and if he does a really good job at "saving" you, maybe you'll let him stay in your room for the night when he keeps watch...?

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: Twist of Fate [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Title: Twist of Fate [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Synopsis: Were you always going to end up here, running, with death at your heels?

For Horrorfest request:

Happy Halloween! Could we see perhaps something like Shigaraki as Death? Some unstoppable force, bringing decay and destruction, while his love tries to run. But she cannot outrun death...

Word count: 450

notes: yandere, descriptions of death

How do you determine what events in your life were inevitable and which could be avoided?

For instance, the pavement you just tripped on--was it predetermined that you would take this specific path at this specific time, that your shoes would catch on the crack in the sidewalk, that you would stumble? Not enough to fall down, but just enough to slow your flight, to give him a few seconds to get closer to you?

Or could you have avoided this if you’d made a different decision? If you took a different path, if you saw the crack and jumped over it, if you were running 2 inches to the right and missed it entirely?

Maybe you could have avoided tripping altogether if you weren’t running for your life. 

Ah, but then: wasn’t it inevitable that you would be running for your life, thus negating any choices within this inevitable experience?

Because there was no other outcome for you than to run for your life, quite literally.

Shigaraki Tomura was death himself, and death came for everyone.

Even you. 

“You’re being stupid. Just give up, sweetheart.”

You hear his words spat from somewhere behind you--how far away is he?--but don’t turn or stop or think too hard about them. That’s what he wants. He wants you to waste your breath with arguments, even though you desperately need all of it to keep your body moving. To keep your blood and arms and legs pumping.

To keep running.

Not everyone was able to run. And it was your fault, wasn’t it, that he was tearing through the city; that he was reaching out and crumbling the lives of anyone who got in his way, knowingly or not? Because you refused him. Because you told him he was a sick fuck and you would never, ever love him. Because you ran from him

You can taste the dust of other people’s corpses in your mouth, blown by the wind. Sometimes when you round a corner you’re faced with evidence of his presence--piles of dust, dust, dust, where a person used to be. 

Eventually, you hit a wall.

A literal one. 

You’ve run out of places to run. You’ve run out of places to hide.

You hear his footsteps, his own labored breathing, making its way down the alley with deliberate slowness. You can smell his death and decay, like stains on his fingertips that won’t go away. A rot that has no doubt seeped into his bones, his soul.

Still, he goes slow. He doesn’t charge. He doesn’t taunt, though you’re sure it must be tempting.

Because he, too, knows that this was inevitable.  You’ve just been delaying it… and for what, really, nothing at all. 

All that’s left now is to decide: do you keep staring at the wall, or turn around and face him? 

[chosoniisan]

A risk worth messy reward ↠ kamo choso

↠alternative title: swapping spit with choso, literally

↠pairing: kamo choso | sorceress!reader

↠setting: post canon, not at all compliant

↠genre: nasty, nasty fluff

↠caution: suggestive; height/size difference ("my" choso is over 6ft); unhealthy-ish/complicated relationship; kinda owner/pet dynamics; coercion (?); lots of tongue

↠summary: after yet another rural-steeped mission, your first priority is finding the nearest bed to fall into; conversely, choso has other things on his mind

↠authoress' notes: my initial plan had been to write a hc about the oddities of choso, how he has some bizarre and inexplicable habits, but writing hcs (without plot) isn't my strength, so I opted for what could be considered "snapshots" instead :')

also, the context, setting-wise, for this is that once the dusts settles post canon, the high-ups (the smattering of them still kicking), let choso live conditioned on you acting as his controller at all times, lest you risk ending up on the execution chopping block, too. . .

A ripely full moon, and the air’s refreshed with a slight chill:

by all means the sort of mid-autumn night you’d want to bottle up and take with you.

You might just have to overlook the chunks of entrails sticking to your soles, though. And maybe you can pretend that it’s the crickets droning in the grass and not the crisping of bone dissolving into nothingness. As if on cue, you resist the urge to sigh to keep the tang of death, thoroughly worn over, from invading your lungs any more than it already has.

It’s not quite how you’d envision your evening—but beggars can’t be choosers. And on the bright side, at least you’re fully intact, all your limbs present and accounted for despite enough close calls to last you a lifetime. Sure, you might have said the very same thing last time (i.e. a handful of days ago), and you’ll no doubt mirror that sentiment next time too (i.e. in another day or so), though you take your blessings when you can get them.

Granted, your good luck quickly runs its course since there’s hardly anything fortunate about the strain of curses the far-flung reaches of the countryside seem to breed to no end. Who would have thought that the higher you climbed the rankings the more acquainted you’d become with woodland critters the size of your hand (excluding cursed spirits, mind you). Then there’s the persistent feeling of otherness crawling over you like a second skin the longer those prying eyes rake and rove over you. (If only they knew that a city girl and her dutiful charge were the last bit out of place in these parts.)

“I mean it when I say that you’re a lifesaver, Choso.” Your poignant ring is all the encouragement he needs to scrap making sure that dead is actually dead this time around and squeeze himself back into your sphere again. Crunch, crunch, crunch goes the tall grass giving way to your missing piece because obviously solace by another name is your side. Leave it to him to be over 190 centimeters of delicately endearing. “I wasn’t expecting that other special-grade, but, of course, you’re always covering for me in a pinch—I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

In that moment, you’re the stargazer of him; a face lighting up the pearly night beyond measure. “I’m always following your lead, though. You’re a lot more experienced than me, too, so the best I can do is try to keep up. Because I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” A dash of sheepishness colors the downward wisp of lashes brushing against his cheeks, but that isn’t enough to distract him from the sway of you in his shadow (even if he has to really drop his head to horde that eyeful for himself). “I’m glad we make a good team,” his brief lull is beseeching, the tilted head even more so, “at least I think so.”

For the sake of his tenderly bleeding heart, your nodding doesn’t miss a beat. “Yep, we sure do. . .! And every good team needs some rest, so I should go ahead and text our supervisor and let him know we’re finished up here.” Another thwarted attempt at a sigh, so you settle for a mild quirk of your lips amidst reaching into your pocket for your phone spared from the fray. “We’ll have to stay the night in town, which isn’t ideal, but we can take the first train back home in the morning.”

The faster you can confirm the rendezvous spot, the faster you can sink into a warm bath and then beneath a cozy comforter, so you’re already a few rapid-fire texts deep when Choso pulls on your sleeve.

“Wait. Before that. . .” he begins, slow, measured as if he’s taking the time to taste every word before it leaves his lips. Like that’s not enough to prod at your attention, you’re especially perceptive to rose stain swashed across the expanse of his face, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think him too innocent to sell his soul to the devil for a life of strife alongside you. Though perhaps innocence in its purest state is wetting his hands in blood, bearing your burden of nocturnal calamity with the occasional slip of diffidence. “Can I. . .” Gulping down that lump in his throat. “Can I have my reward now?”

It's your turn to sound things out for good measure.

“Your. . .reward?” (Emphasis on the furrowed brows there.)

He bobs his head once, meanwhile you’re rifling through the pages of your mental archives in search of this reward, whatever it is. A contemplative hum sifts through you at the recollection of saying something in the realm of treating him once this mission wrapped up; admittedly, it was the sort of remark made in passing, but if it’s Choso, you don’t mind staying true to your word. Besides, you have an inkling of what he might have in mind (or you hope you know him well enough to make that guess. . .there’s only one way to find out).

“You’re talking about the souvenirs near the station; I think you were looking at the sweet dumplings, yeah? I don’t know if that shop is open this late, but we can go over and check—”

“No, not that.” Vehemence strums in his tone, so much so that you start a bit, setting off the ripple effect of him offering you a repentant look in return, one that’s still very clearly brimming with fervor. “I did a good job, right? And you promised I could have a reward if I was really good.” As a matter of fact, he’s not wrong, but his moonstruck gaze, expanding, plants an unnamed sensation between the open spaces in your chest. (You’re not daunted by him, it’s just that unpredictability has never been your forte.) “. . .So I was thinking that I wanted you.”

Doesn’t have a chance to click together in your brain until the warmed heart of his palm envelops your entire cheek, and even then you’re still too many steps behind by the time he’s level with you: face-to-face, eye-to-eye, lips. . .dangerously close. Inhaling a mingling of dried copper and powdery musk doesn’t help you figure out what he means by wanting you, having you; rather, with each fanning of his breath over you in crests, you’re gradually unraveling into something entirely unlike you. Something a lot more nerve-ridden.

If you had intended to chime in after scrambling to make sense of the situation (or not), the reality is that you’re simply opening the door for him to carve a place inside you. Literally. Considering it’s not the sound of a mildly articulated concern that echoes in the air, but a muffled squeak when he catches his lips on yours, inviting himself into the niche of your mouth before you can try to recoil. Even when you do think to reel away, his arm is already circled around your waist, seizing you into the bulk of him to the point that you can’t tell where one of you begins and the other ends.

You’ve long given consideration to the fact that Choso’s spent more time sealed than unsealed, that to this very day he’s still working out the kinks of what it means to be mostly human—but this. This goes beyond his idiosyncrasies of not knowing the particulars of kissing. No, this is nothing of a kiss and everything of devouring you whole.

As susceptible as you are, he has no trouble crowding his tongue against yours, which is the difference between tasting him and choking on him. Testing the waters is the last thing on his mind (you suspect it had never been there in the first place) when he’s using the anchor of his hand to steer you right where he wants you, because how else could he map the ridges of your palate without you shrinking like the violet you’re steadily flowering into. Intrusive is him eating away at your lips like a man starved, but it’s also the blooming of heat curled through your insides with a particular penchant for the midst of your tummy.

The compulsion to stagger back is second nature to you, except he’s unnaturally folded into you, so there’s really nowhere for you to skitter off to, especially not with the fixation given to a mesh of sticky pink. And it feels foreign, sinfully so, as he overwhelms you with broad, saliva-rife sweeps of his tongue, undeterred by your stagnate self, too paralyzed by the knotting in your core, the blistering up of sweat at your temples, and the uncut wildness—or is that obsession?—of him before your very eyes. Either way, it’s just the push needed to send you over the edge of quiet bleating. . .that finds its premature end swallowed into him for safekeeping at the bottom of his stomach, just like every other morsel of you.

Heady appreciation is quick to follow on your heels by way of a long-winded moan from him, to you by virtue of his snare. The stammering in your chest is the clear mark of being caught off guard, and Choso in all his fevered glory capitalizes on your lapse of self to plunge his tongue as deeply as it’ll reach. Nevermind the fact that there’s no stifling the stuttered heave around him or the full-bodied quaking against him, either, he’s still singularly focused on partaking in the mess of you. Willingly or not, you can’t help but indulge him when you’re varying shades of fluster, and it’s the gilt reflection of your disarray that has you clamping your eyes shut. Too bad for you, darkness doesn’t temper the dizzying sensation clambering through your veins that’s becoming more, and more, and more intertwined with him.

(You don’t know how much longer you can weather the storm of him, or if you’ll even be able to mend what he’s already bitten through, and maybe it would have been preferrable if he had taken your skin & tissue with him. He took something far more softly perverse.)  

Though in the end, it’s of his accord, only, that he spares you of the kind of smothering that’ll have you icesheet cold against him in no time flat. And you use spare loosely because he simply moves to sucking and nibbling on your bottom lip as if parting from you means imminent death. If he’d give you a chance, you could assure him that his fears of relenting are unwarranted, but in the thick of hungry fascination, he’d rather stripe his tongue along the corner of your mouth to gather up a stray bead of slick. Whether yours or his, you don’t know—you do know that when he’s done, it’s every bit of his tacky memento etched on your skin.

His gift to you for letting him have one of your deepest intimacies.

As expected, he doesn’t keen over from unlacing himself from you—truthfully, his hand is still palming at your cheek, so it’s not a full untethering—though you’re certainly not boasting a modicum of stability yourself. If that unyielding hold around your middle is anything to go on, you suspect that he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest; you might even say that he’s savoring in the ruby-rich reliance of his handler.

“Uhm,” Reticence returns with a vengeance despite having just rooted through you mere moments ago; the moonlight glancing off traces smeared across his lips a testament to that. “. . .Do you we could see about those dumplings now?”

And of course you’ll oblige him—even knowing you’re complicit in preserving his devotion.

[kerubimcrepin]

The Dofus MMO Timeline : Leorictus Sheran-Sharm, and the curious case of an implied tenuous relationship between the Crepin-Jurgens

Today we will begin reviewing MMO lore, which was helpfully compiled by yours truly in a video-series. And this post is entirely about the historic events and chronological happenings of the game, as pertaining to Joris, Kerubim, and Atcham.

A Short Summary of Leorictus Sheran-Sharm and the Huppermage Genocide:

The events preceding the game, and the way Leorictus obtained the cursed crown that drove him insane, are quite well explained by this little summary from the Dofus Site:

Even though he was cursed after these events, the war between Bonta and Brakmar at the time is described as nothing short of a slaughter, which might signal to us that, perhaps, even before his descent into madness he was not a very good man.

While ending his own life, Leorictus, through some manipulation, took the Ivory Dofus with him, and used it for evil even after death.

After his death, a horrible civil war and a genocide of huppermages followed.

Kerubim and Joris (and maybe Atcham's) Never-ending Nightmare:

Kerubim's dialogue on the topic, as well as Joris being on good terms with the huppermages, show us that their opinions did not align with those of the Bontarian masses, which would have, at the time, made them outcasts, or outright put them in danger.

And yet...

Even though Luis and Kerubim appear in Astrub within the game, we know for a fact that they did not live there until very recently, thanks to multiple NPCs mentioning them moving to Astrub from Bonta — which means that, all this time, despite the horrific events surrounding them, they continued living there.

Personally, I think they couldn't leave Bonta out of a moral sense of duty, to help their city flourish once more, or to try and help the huppermages that could not leave. It is similar to what they do to a greater extent in Waven, and fits timeline-wise, with the presecution ending around the time of Dofus MMO.

This would mean that they moved back to Astrub, a city of great emotional significance to Joris and Kerubim, after decades of civil war and prosecutions. Because living in such conditions, out of a moral obligation, is bound to put a toll on a person, and is, in my opinion, the precise reason they move to Astrub in the first place.

Atcham AKA Real Winners Quit:

You may have noticed, so far, that I had not yet mentioned Atcham. It is because at the time of the MMO he defected back to Brakmar and went back to a life of crime.

While it is possible that the author of the wanted poster was simply mistaken, I do want to stress the fact that this game takes place around two hundred years in the future, and realistically, by this point, Atcham would be known as a Bontarian.

However, he isn't on bad terms with Kerubim, who speaks very fondly of him, and protects him from receiving punishment for literally beating up random adventurers (using his "defending obvious criminals" skills as demonstrated in episode 42 of Aux Tresors de Kerubim. By which I mean I think he bribed this guy).

In my opinion, Atcham just hated the events in Bonta so much that he fled, went back to Brakmar, and is now refusing to come home because he's mad at Kerubim and Joris for putting themselves in danger.

The Move to Astrub:

Their house in Astrub is the same as it's always been. Warm and welcoming.

At this time, Joris spent his time guiding new incarnates in Incarnam.

We know this to be canon even after his removal from the tutorial, because he is mentioned as an easter egg for players who leave without finishing said tutorial.

My pet theory is that Joris left Incarnam due to lack of respect from his co-workers...

The reason I keep mentioning Joris and Kerubim living together, despite Joris's absence from the home, is that the Zaap to Incarnam is free of charge, and located in Astrub's Temple of Twelve.

It's quite realistic for Joris to be able to make the trip every day. Especially when Kerubim was also able to make the same trip, just for his own leisure. (in my mind, he could even just come and visit Joris...)

Joris and Kerubim's interpersonal relationship:

Since I already mentioned Atcham and what he may generally think, it would be rude not to mention Kerubim and Joris, and the glimpses we have at their relationship at this point.

One of the things that is most notable about their house, is the absolutely dilapidated state of the attic — which is, usually, where Joris has historically lived.

It's a bit of a shaky connection, but if it really is his bedroom, or a place close or adjacent to his bedroom, it might imply Joris just gave up on taking care of it, (not that it's quite taken care of in general, even in Wakfu times...) or that he lived in another area of the home.

Joris is mostly absent, and preoccupied with helping Bonta, despite his attempts to perhaps distance himself a little by moving to Astrub.

He mentions Kerubim once, and it's quite in character: he likes to keep his personal life very far from random work acquaintances.

Kerubim does not mention Joris or Atcham (save for a singular line of dialogue), but talks about dead people from 200 years ago incessantly. In my opinion, it is his way of respecting Joris's privacy and wishes. (And saving his own skin.)

(Imagine you were a calm, collected professional with an image to uphold, and your parent, who works in the same sphere and sees similar clients, went around telling stories of what you did as a child behind your back... brr.)

However, a lot of his dialogue reads as very... lonely. So I really doubt he's entirely on board with Joris and Atcham going off on their own, though there's not much he can do about it.

(The second screenshot is included because Kerubim saying "it's good to have someone small at home" deranges me. He is so empty nest syndrome'd it's crazy)

[you-are-constance]

TCD Stuff Pt. 4 - "Missing" Scenes

ok so this section is going to be far less about the particular production, but still relies heavily one it since the Canadian production is how i found out about these scenes existing

i will literally never forgive the Cadogan hall production for cutting scenes that were not only wonderful but also MADE THE PLOT MAKE SENSE. i was absolutely shocked as i was watching the show to discover a bunch of scenes that i had never even heard of before, and how much they tied together all the loose ends that had been driving me crazy!!

Post Modest Modiste after Amelia leaves, Will comes out with a bolt of fabric (Ma yelling “Will! The satins!”). it is actually a bolt of the nice silk, and we learn that they’ve been selling the satins as silk (and, to Ma’s relief, not the other way around). this not only sets up Ma as the ‘shady’ businesswoman she is, but also gives us an immediate introduction to how badly she has been mistreating Will his entire life. i actually take issue with this scene! it’s important to me that the first introduction we get to Will as Will is in Spindlewood. it is an excellent introduction to his character that just cannot be replicated in any other way, and having us actually meet him before the song makes it not nearly as effective as I think it should be

Post Impossible after Impossible is over, Abraham backtracks and officially introduces himself to Constance. he reaches out his hand and says that he is “pleased to meet” Constance, who then mirrors his action, putting her hand out and excitedly saying “I’m very pleased to meet you!” Abraham then uses his other hand and shakes Constance’s hand. i touched on it in a previous analysis post but this so excellently sets up a mark of Constance’s development as she meets new people. there are other details of this scene that i don’t remember super well, but another notable part of this was Constance asking how and why Abraham made her. there are a lot of passing moments where we see Abraham trying to figure out how Constance is even alive, which leads to him eventually figuring out how to in theory keep himself alive, and in practice bring Will back to life. more importantly, Abraham tells Constance that he made her because he was sad. she asks what “sad” means, and Abraham tells her that it doesn’t matter, because he will never let her feel that way. (which, of course, makes a scene in act 2 work so much better! after Constance is discovered, frozen in the square, and Abraham winds her, Constance says that Abraham promised that she would never feel “like this,” something that does exist in the concert production, and doesn’t make sense in it!)

Wedding Dress after Constance ventured out and bumped into Amelia during Spindlewood, she is back inside, trying to understand what caused Amelia to faint. she recalls the words “wedding dress” and looks in a dictionary to find out what that means. she goes through the terms “wedding dress” “wedding” and “marriage” to figure out what’s going on, determining that a wedding dress causes people to fall over “for some reason.” when Abraham returns from the city, he brings with him a gift for Constance, a simple white dress. excited, Constance asks if it’s a wedding dress, to which Abraham confusedly responds “no.” Constance asks if it could be, and Abraham, still confused says that maybe, it is white after all, and Constance learns that it’s important for a wedding dress to be white “for some reason.” Constance takes it excitedly, and leaves Abraham to wonder what is going on. when Constance goes to deliver the dress, she meets Will right outside of the Modest Modiste (at least, that’s what i think happened?) and asks if this is where “the dresses live?” (that line actually was in the concert, but didn’t make any sense without the context of the previous scene. argh!) Will is confused, but eventually gathers that she made a replacement dress. Will takes her to where Amelia is, and they leave the dress and hide. when Amelia stumbles and almost falls at seeing the dress, Constance is excited, because a wedding dress makes people fall over “for some reason!” (this makes the Abraham part in Keep it to Yourself make sense, because Abraham finally connects the dots of what Constance was going on about a wedding dress for!) i just think the detail of Constance using a dictionary to teach herself things is really cute and also indicative of her reliance on herself from the beginning - Abraham isn’t going to teach her everything. he's not even there with her most of the time.

Will’s Name this is the one that i go the most insane about. i cannot remember all the specific words but i’ll do my best to explain. Will introduces himself to Constance as “William Monday Night Riley.” Constance asks why he has four names. Will’s response. “Actually, I have eleven.” so the two of them walk together as Will explains the story behind his name (it was very long and very funny and I’m going to do my best to remember it all. and also i might have just misunderstood things lol) the town’s doctor got extremely drunk the night before his wedding, and Will’s father burst in saying that Ma Riley was about to deliver the baby. when they finally got back, Ma had already had Will and weighed him herself. and so, the doctor, supremely drunk, wrote in the name category pretty much every detail about Will’s birth. (i really dont remember the specifics but it was including the day, time, weight, and sex as well as his actual name). only, in all the confusion, he didn’t even check and listed Will as female. so yes, legally, Will Riley a girl (so technically he is CANONICALLY trans. the way i lost my mind). when Will has finished the story, the two of them had arrived in the clearing that Will spends so much of his time. he told her the story to get her to walk with him long enough so he could show her the spot (how cute is that. also the fact that this is Will being a storyteller????)) there are other moments throughout the show that refer to Will’s name, particularly him being legally female. he talks to Constance, telling her that she can’t let the world tell her who she is, and what she can and cant do. the world is telling Will that he’s a girl, and he knows not to listen to them (can we talk about the transgenderism of this show oh my god)

Rhiannion there are a few added moments with one of the seamstresses - Rhiannion - that i think were a shame to not include in the concert version. she walks in soon after the gun goes off and shoots Will, after Ma has run off saying “it was an accident!” she doesn’t speak up about it until it’s too late. Will is dead, Constance has stopped, and Ma is still trying to blame Constance for killing Will. Abraham tries to get her to confess, but it isn’t until Rhiannion comes forward and says that she heard the shot, she knows that it was Ma’s fault, that she finally admits it. i really like that the full version of the show gives more character to the individual townspeople. it’s hard to tell in the concert version who is who (beyond what person they are played by), and they can all easily blur together. but in the full version of the show, that’s not so much an issue, as you have them played by different people, and you have more scenes that really show the individuals. it fleshes out the town a bit more. Spindlewood is a small town, where everyone knows everyone’s business, and i think the full version of the show really sets up that setting much better. (i do understand that giving more moments to more “ensemble” characters can clutter up the story and take focus away from the main characters, but i don’t think the extra moments get to the point of doing that. in fact, i think i’d argue that the moment that shifts the focus the furthest away from the leads is Market Day - something that has been included in every version of the show - but i don’t think it shifts focus too much, it’s a good opener for act 2)

[giorno-plays-piano]

Thorns In His Mouth

Part VII

Pairing: fae!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: obsession, dubious consent, minor character death, drugs (neither reader nor Steve are involved), slight eating disorder, mentions of tumor, high tech elves.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: Maybe it was a good idea to chat with a waitress a bit more once she brought you your order. Perhaps she could at least tell you with whom you should speak because you simply couldn’t force yourself to look at others, most of them already high, shouting something loudly or laughing or weeping. You could constantly hear the flapping of someone’s wings, weird whispers and noises, and the sound of boots and hooves that made your hair stand on end.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI

_______

"But where are we going?" You hurried after the elf who was walking way too fast on his goddamn perfectly long legs.

"My friend is a phooka who doesn't like sunlight much," Steve said, turning his face to you but not slowing down. "Since magic costs us too much in your world, not many fae can afford constant glamour. And phookas don't exactly look like humans, so he has to hide where not many people can see him."

Oh. You hadn't thought of that. Phookas were black-haired cat-like - or goat-like? - creatures, as far as you remembered from a book about Celtic fairies you've had as a child. It would be incredibly hard not to freak out if you suddenly saw one in the middle of the city.

Poor creature. Where was it living? How hard it would be to not only be unable to use magic, but also communicate with pretty much anyone at all with an exception of fellow faes? Steve, on the other hand, looked perfectly human even with his strange face and piercing blue eyes, his ears perfectly normal. Was he using glamour?

He seemed to be amused with your expression as he laughed, extending his hand to you so you could walk close instead of dragging behind him.

"Do you use glamour to change the shape of your ears?" You blurted out, unable to keep silent to satisfy your curiosity, and then shame bubbled up inside you as you realized it was a too personal question to ask a literal stranger. Nevertheless, you took his hand when his fingers brushed against yours.

His gaze warmed up. "I do. What, do you want me to oblige you and show you their true form?"

"No, no pleasure, I'm sorry! I don't know why I asked that."

"It's a shame," the elf winked at you. "I'd ask you for a wish in exchange."

Warmth crept into your cheeks: was Steve flirting with you just now? Or was it his fae nature showing itself? The fair folk were supposed to be overly playing - or utterly horrifying. Steve, you thought, was likely both.

Turning to the left, away from the bus station with a long queue of tired students nervously clutching their Ipads and Iphones, you followed the Watcher with your eyes on the road instead of looking at him. It never came to your mind that he considerably slowed down his pace so you could keep up with it, his palm warming yours as he held it gently. You missed his intent stare as he stopped smiling, and his eyes flashed oddly.

"Your first lesson," he finally said after a couple of minutes, breaking the awkward silence. "Don't ever bargain with a fae if it demands a wish in return. Always try to propose something first. Give it something valuable, but what you're ready to part with."

"Like my earrings?"

There's a faint smile on his full lips, "Like your earrings."

"But what if I really need to bargain with a fae, and it wants nothing else but a wish?"

Steve abruptly stopped, and you nearly fell down the ground if he didn't catch you, steading you with his unbearably hot palms on your shoulders, towering over you, his expression somber.

"You NEVER bargain with that fae," he said, and your knees started to tremble out of nowhere when he squeezed your shoulders tight. "Never. Come find me, and I will trade something else with you to help."

There's something dangerous in the way his lips crooked, but you continued staring at his face, anyway, like a snake charmer at a cobra - except it was you being controlled, his voice a low command.

"There has always been plenty of malicious fae even in Sacred lands, but many turned worse in exile. You will never guess which one is which, and you don't want to know what they'll do to you if you give them a chance."

"But... but weren't fair folk forbidden from harming us?" Your voice trembled a little, and Steve blew out a little breath, his thumbs drawing circles through the fabric of your blouse to comfort you, probably, after he stopped painfully squeezing your shoulders.

"When you give them a wish, you hand them the power over you. Do that, and the law will no longer work in your favor."

It was a rule #1, perhaps the most important one among the long list of other rules you were given when dealing with the little folk. Never have you ever allowed a fae to ask you for a wish since then, promising yourself you wouldn't waste your own life even for your mother. There was always a different way, Steve said, glancing down at you as he towered far above you. Sacrifices, whatever their nature, rarely led to anything good in the end.

By the time he walked down the stairs to enter the nearest metro station, you realized you had a very vague picture of a place you were going to, immediately asking the elf where he was planning to take you. Why were you leaving fae's part of the city? Did some creatures live outside it? Was it far? Was it a dangerous place, too?

The man was chuckling again at a limitless number of questions you could ask without drawing a second breath. "You were a worrier, weren't you?" He asked, and your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.

"He lives close," he finally said, motioning to the metro tration. "And no place is dangerous as long as you're with me. You might get nervous, though. It's dark and dirty there."

Dark and dirty? Was it, like, some sort of a cave.

Looking at the growing smile of the elf, you suddenly realized why he was taking you down the metro station. Dear God, that's where that hairy phooka lived, right? Somewhere on an abandoned metro line or between the stations where no one but rats would see him, and so he wouldn't need glamor.

It all felt like some sort of urban legend.

You didn't have it in you to stop, knowing your mysterious friend was expecting results in return for his earnest work, but when Steve was helping you jump over the protective fence right on the tracks, you squeezed his hand, breathing heavier.

"Can I hold your hand, please? This place gives me the creeps," you smiled nervously at him, and Steve let out a loud laugh in his typical fashion, grasping your shoulder.

"You weren't scared of coming to a place full of drug addicts and all sorts of scum, but the metro scares you?" He helped you up when you had finally jumped down, barely believing you were really doing it, your anxity amping up. "Don't fret, you lovely little thing. I know this place better than anyone. I've lived here for many long years myself."

________

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy @heimtathurs @moonlightazriel @tsujifreya @lilithmoon92 @greenowlfactif @minshookie29 @nina2697 @youngdreamer3214 @jsrblue

[carriecarriecatgirl]

OKAY YK WHAT THONKING ABOUT ARO CARRIE NOWW... I think shed reach a point in her adult life where she realises 'wait im an adult.. The few civillian friends i have are moving out of their parents homes and getting into relationships.. Hmmm' and she brushes the thought aside cos shes batman.. Whyd she have time to move out.. Her and boss got goons to take down yk?? But then she thinks more on it and she realises the idea is so completely unappealing. Move in with some random guy?? But the idea of living alone also feels alien because shes grown up surrounded by the batboys and boss.

Anyway point being: carrie literally just lives with her kinda-dad (bruce) her whole life and bruce never brings it up that it is atypical out of fear that carrie will move out when he does

YES UES YES YOU GET IT. carrie ABSOLUTELY lives w bruce n the batboys. in bruces mind it's just like. dick lived w him jason lived w him why wouldn't carrie live w him? ofc we don't know what happened 2 dick 2 cause the rift btw him n bruce n we know jason died well before he was at moving out age and carrie. she like has a civilian life but it's more just to fill time btw training n detective work n patrol. her friends who aren't even slightly in the know she just says that she has a really demanding night job.

we think she probably keeps an appt in the city just 2 sleep + eat in 2 lessen her commute and that's where she takes friends. in the eyes of her friends she isn't weird for not having moved out bc they think she already has. n accounting for the amount of time she would be on the phone/comm. link for info drops + other work stuff, it wouldn't be hard 2 assume that she's actually texting a partner instead of scheduling an ambush w the flash.

we don't think she'd mind being alone, given her bio parents, but she definitely prefers company. she would HATE dating though. the idea is so far from her mind it's unreal.

we don't think it would be bruce who brings the subject up 2 her tho. it would be like clark or barry, maybe even lara if they're close enough at this point. it would absolutely catch her off guard and she wouldn't know how 2 respond (which she would be ashamed of, bruce taught her better than this)

we're of the opinion that she only thinks of sex and romance in the abstract. she knows that bruce used to play the part of seductive playboy, and she knows that clark and diana didn't will lara into existence, but she doesn't really think about it any further than that. she doesn't give nudity a second thought either. she's seen bruce naked, and bruce has seen her naked, nothing more to it. (she's also seen barry and ray palmer, and she doesn't make a peep abt either) she doesn't really get why people make such a fuss about it.

we also headcanon bruce 2 b aroace as well, so that only reaffirms her worldview. he kissed selina bc that's Just What People Do, and carrie wasn't squeamish abt that either bc that's just Normal Affection. whenever any of the batboys fall for someone she's just like "yeah ok cool did you complete your drills." she knows, logically, that clark and diana are In Love, and that's why they cling to each other so much, but beyond that she doesn't think about it.

HOWEVER. if the conversation of moving out ever came up between them carrie would spiral. she would start to read malcontent in actions that were previously just neutral. bruce doesn't want 2 talk 2day? before, it's just cuz he was tired or overstimulated or was working on a hard case and needed the quiet. now, there's a reason for her to think it's because she's dissatisfied or frustrated with her. it would definitely end in sobbing and bruce having to explain that he obv never valued what was normal anyways, and no he does not want her gone. he is, however, famously bad at communicating so this would take awhile

[unp0pularl0nerkid]

The Crimson Dragon: Joining the Straw Hats ?

Short introduction of your character here :)

The “war” is over. Orochi is defeated, kaido is gone. Wano is safe. And you are…happy? Not happy actually. You’ve feared this day for many years, but you’re glad to get it over with. You started this journey to avenge your clan, you never intended to live long after it. Hell, you’re surprised you even made it this far. But you have nothing left. The city of wano dislikes you and your clan, and since there’s no more revenge you might as well end on a peaceful note. You were going to fall off of this cliff. Into the river, and hopefully Gurenryuu would stay hidden along with you. You were ending the Kiryuu clan right here and right now. It almost bittersweet. How there are tears falling down your face as you prepare to take that last step over the edge, literally. “Hey! What are you doing” a gruff voice spoke. Startled, you begin to turn around only to slip down the cliff that you were once about to end it all from. This is it, you thought. This is the end. But, a strong hand darted out to you, pulling you back up and falling to the ground. “What the hell?” He said. You were met with one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen. His body was wrapped in bandages, that now seeped with blood and his eye had one cut cleanly down. “You scared me! Weirdo.” You yelled, huffing. “Didnt you ever learn manners?” You spoke with an eye roll. “First off, you were the one about to jump for the cliff and you’re not even supposed to be up here anyway. Ever heard of a thank you Ms.Manners? I just saved your life” he yelled back, dusting himself off. Oh right, you were about to kill yourself. “Don’t ask about things that don’t concern you. Your pirate hunter zoro right? Just mind your business.” You scolded. “Don’t know why they keep saying that, Im literally in a pirate crew now. Im not going anywhere until you tell me who you are and where you got Gurenryuu from. Swords like that don’t deserve to end because you are.” He seethed. “It’s my sword! It came from my clan! Just because you save wano doesn’t mean you deserve it.” You rolled your eyes. “Okay, well how about you come with me back to the palace then. Miss know it all.” He rolled his eyes. “No! I came here to kill myself and Im going to do it. Im not weak-minded. I had a goal. A plan. And I will execute it.” You stated firmly. “Killing yourself doesn’t make you strong. It doesn’t make you strong-minded either. Its dumb. Leaving the world before you’ve done anything memorable. Why waste your life like that? Why taint the sword like that? I won’t let you.” He stated. Zoro has no idea why. Maybe, in a way, you remind him of his old best friend. But he won’t let you end your life before it’s even started. He grabs you, throws you over his shoulder, and treks back to the rest of the crew. “Put me down! Hey! Are you listening!” You scream, wailing your legs. “Cut it out! Ive already opened up my wounds” He says setting you down, in some room. He got lost, he doesn’t really know where he’s at. “Your wounds? We have to fix them!” You immediately grab the first aid kit laying on the ground and get to work. He didnt reopen his stitches, he was just moving a lot so he needed to replace his bandages. Had you not been in a rush, you would’ve blushed at the close proximity and the fact that he was bare chested right now. “Anyways. I have this captain. He’s going to be the king of the pirates. You should meet him, I think it’ll change your perspective on somethings.” He mumbles. You look up to him, after wrapping the last of his wounds. “I don’t think so. People in Wano don’t like me. I doubt he will either.” You laugh, bitterly. You’re used to it by now, you used to be angry but you know that’s just how this life goes. “Why’d you save my life” “Whyd you try to end your life” You both said in unison.

After sitting in silence, you decided it was probably best to spill the beans. I mean…he did save your life. “I am the only living descendent of the Kiryuu clan. My family, my people, were all murdered by Orochi. Because he feared us, everyone feared us. I was 8 years old, when I was thrown into the streets. No friends. No family. No one to turn too. On top of that, right before everyone died, they made me eat the Tatsu Tatsu no Mi fruit. It was passed down for generations and we guarded it. It was said to either awaken the inner dragon, or that dragon would burn you alive. Here I am, so at least you know it worked. I trained ruthlessly to get my revenge. But, I guess I just wasn’t fast enough, you all did it for me. So I have nothing left for me here. My mother always wanted me to make a living, to be happy and explore. But I knew after that incident that it wasn’t in the cards for me. That’s why I planned on ending my life, right there on that mountain.” You spoke, hoping he would understand so you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself. He didnt laugh, hell he didnt even respond. He just stared at you, with something you couldn’t quite place, swirling in his eyes. “I don’t want your pity and I dont want your remorse.” You glared. “You weren’t going to get it. Instead of killing yourself, you should join our crew. At least meet them. Don’t end your journey here. You’re not weak-minded after all right?” He teased. “Fine, I guess I’ll meet your captain.” You said. Immediately after you heard. “Zorooo!! Zoro!” And two long arms were slingshotted into the room. “Alright! You’re awake, let’s eat!!!!!” The boy exclaimed. Grabbing you and zoro and rushing into the dining hall. “Hey I found Zoro and this girl together! Let’s EAT!” The boy said before stuffing his face. “Moss for brains with this goddess? Yea right” the blonde said before walking up to you. He took your hand and placed a kiss onto it. “You’re absolutely stunning! Im Sanji” he exclaimed with heart eyes. “Im (your name)” you smiled politely. “Nice to meet you, Im Brook. Can I see your panties?” The skeleton-brook said. “Knock it off!” The pretty red-head said, hitting him on top of the head. “Im Nami! Nice to meet you” she smiled at you. “Im robin! It’s a pleasure” the raven haired girl smiled sincerely. “SUPER to meet you dudette! Im Franky” The robot said. “Im the great sniper king ussopp and this little guy is chopper” He said pointing to the reindeer. “First son of the sea jinbe.” He spoke. “IM LUFFY! Im gonna be king of the pirates” The straw hat exclaimed stuffing his face. “Enough with the introductions let’s eat!!” He yelled.

Once you all finished eating it was then time to ask questions. “Where’d you find her anyway zoro?” Nami asked. “On a mountain” He said. Very vague. That’s nice of him. “Why were you on top of a mountain?” Robin asked. “Oh um…I just had something that I needed to do” you spoke quietly, hoping they would drop it. “What’s with the sword? And why’s your hair like that?” Ussopp asked. “The swords name is Gurenryuu, it relates to my clan. The kiryuu clan. I ate the tatsu tatsu no mi fruit, which is why my hair has red tips. It changes when I transform.” You said. “You’re a devil fruit user? Wow. And what do you mean transform?” Ussopp asked. “I can transform into a dragon, and I have a hybrid form which changes my eyes and hair color. It just get like heightened abilities from it” you spoke. “SO COOL!” Luffy, Chopper, and Ussopp yelled in unison. “The Kiryuu clan? That’s the clan that protected that devil fruit and was once known as the protectors of the land, right? There used to be an old folktale about the secrets of the dragon hidden deep down in the family line” Robin said. “Yeah, that’s right. My clan was wiped out by orochi, he turned Wano against us, and now it’s just me” you spoke, suddenly feeling aware of all the eyes on you. “Well now you’re not alone! You’re apart of my crew!” Luffy said reaching over and hugging you. “LUFFY! We told you about this!” The whole crew yelled. Fortunately for you, Luffy just laughed. “Im going to be king of the pirates! I want you to join my crew because its not about the fame or the money, its about the freedom. You deserve to live a life as happy as you can. What better way to do that then but become a pirate!” He exclaimed. “He has a point. No point in giving your life up here, come with us.” The swordsman spoke, looking you directly in the eye. Almost as if he was challenging you. “Okay. I’ll join your crew!” You said, gleaming. “Great! Everybody lets go!!!” Luffy said taking off towards the way of the ship, and naturally…everybody else followed. You of course noticed that zoro was going the wrong way, “hey you’re going the wrong way idiot!” You screamed, grabbing him by his collar. “Whatever” he mumbled. “Is your sense of direction always that terrible? Or is it that green hair that makes you dumb?” You teased, a grin cheesing through. “You literally have red hair, you’re like a walking volcano. And your clumsy didn’t you almost slip off a mountain??” He argued rolling his eyes. “That’s different you snuck up on me! And either way you saved me..which i guess i should thank you for” you said rolling your eyes. “Finally some gratitude” he teased. “oh whatever zoro” your smirked rolling your eyes.

Well that’s it for this part! I think i’m either going to do two or three parts for this.. i already have the next island in mind ;)

[ikilledmyhamster]

Good Evening/Morning to everyone, it's literally 12AM from I am but idc, because I have something to share for all of you lovely LOTR and Hobbit fans.

So as we know, some of us try to do different ways to cope with the many sad and deaths that we see in both films (still crying), but. There is one solution that made me feel less....depressed, and that is...

✨REINCARNATION✨

Yes, that is seriously my only way of coping with the six movies so I just wanted to share on what some of the characters got reincarnated as in their new life, (Since they couldn't live the best life in their old one..) so I present you all, the reincarnation of some of the characters, from the Hobbit and LOTR.

Alright so mainly the first ones I'm going to talk about are well. Bilbo, Thorin, and their adopted son Frodo (and his boyfriend).

Also feel free to make some other reincarnation headcannons for these three and four you can use my ideas for fanfics or stories, just make sure to credit or tag me in :)

Bilbo Baggins: Starting off strong with this one, since in the book and in the movies that I've watched and known a little about Bilbo, I feel like the most proper for him is to be reincarnated as a Writer and an Artist. The reasoning is because well he does seem like the type of old man who'd tell long ass stories and novels and also he's definitely very good with realism art.

A little start off, some of the characters age I've lowered it down so it fits within the stories, since some reincarnations, the person's age either goes up or down depending on well, how they lived their past life.

So in this reincarnation of Bilbo, he is around in his mid 40's so somewhere around 47-49 years old. He is a famously well known author in England, works diligently and literally has a perfect schedule for his everyday life (just like his old self). He is very rich with the arts and books that he publishes and sometimes sells, and would spend his money on art equipment and also home items. He lives with his nephew Frodo who in this new life, he is around 23-26 years old.

Next up...

Thorin Oakenshield: Now at first I wanted thorin to be reincarnated as maybe a CEO of a big company, BUT. yes big fat BUT, I changed my mind. Since I wanted him to still follow his old past self (without the greediness) and since he's on enemy terms with thranduil so I was like...ohh I have an idea why not make Thorin a;

M.A.F.I.A

Yes that's what I end up choosing and also because I think it kind of fits his whole character of being a leader and a king. He is respected by his fellow dwarves but he can be way too strict or cruel towards his workers and assistants. He lives in a huge manor far in the mountains (yep, still keeping some of the old traits) in England, but has another mansion in the city of England (London, yes he is ✨ RICH RICH ✨)And mostly spends his time in the city with his dwarves and his two nephews Fili and Kili.

And lastly...

Frodo Baggins: Frodo is reincarnated as Bilbo's nephew (again) and also as a young artist (singer). He would record and post videos of himself singing and playing with his guitar, Bilbo supports him and would buy frodo some of the equipment that he needed for his channel and his future career. But he's always busy helping his uncle around the house, like grabbing packages, doing chores and all that. But frodo doesn't mind it at all, his parents died in the car accident and bilbo took him in when frodo was 13 years old. He raised him and sent him to the best schools but made sure not to pressure the poor boy too hard and gave him the support that he needs.

Frodo is still friends with sam in their new life, where Sam works as a producer for frodo's songs and also he oftenly visits frodo all the time because they live near each other (it's a 20 minute walk to frodo's house but Sam rides a bike so it only takes about 10 minutes). Frodo and Sam are 'Secretly' dating, they're still trying to hide their relationship from the public and Bilbo, but he already knows about their relationship.

I hope you all enjoyed this, I will be making a short story of their interactions maybe later, but we'll see. Anyway, have a nice rest or day and I'll see you guys next time, Bye!~

And also before I end this, just wanted to say that all of the characters got reincarnated as humans and have no memory of their past life :)