#I want to feel freer when drawing

[humans-are-tasty]

[emmitaaa4]

Elriels... I am sorry. I fear I may have come to my senses.

I hate to say it, but from my time in the fandom, it has become increasingly clear that Elriels tend to have superficial views of Elain and Azriel: when you actually deep dive into their characters, it's hard to ignore how toxic they'd be for one another. And they’ve been telling us:

"… Elain and Azriel are such different characters; Elain wouldn't understand Az nor fully accept him. After all, how could she deal with his darkness, when she couldn't handle Nesta's? They would stunt each other’s growth by enabling the other’s ‘toxic traits’—Az would coddle Elain and she would let him."

Right ?! I just—I didn’t want to see it, but their incompatibility is so evident.

I mean, it’s not like:

It’s not like they are both said to draw their strength from hope, even as the world holds that hope by the throat and tells them to despair.

It’s not like they both power through their lives quietly, not making too many waves as to not bother anyone: after all, they couldn't possibly both feel like burdens to their families, however differently they may cope with it... Elain hiding the parts of herself that do not conform to what others have made of her, while Azriel defines himself through his ceaseless work as the NC's Spymaster and torturer—for if he is needed, he cannot be abandoned.

It’s not like they both would do—and have done—absolutely anything for their loved ones, nor like they both tend to be overlooked amidst the stronger personalities of their entourage.

It’s not like they both explicitly say that they value fae traditions & celebrations for how they bring loved ones together.

It's not like they both seem to be a little lost in the world sometimes, Elain rebuilding her life & finding a home wherever she must, and Azriel saying he is unsure of where he belongs even after 500yrs. If at least Az didn’t already have an established place/apartment for himself in Velaris, I could maybe imagine them carving their own place in the world, where they are free to be whoever they want (wait—).

It's not like they both tend to wear a mask around others—one warm & pleasant, one cold & distant—nor like we see freer, more genuine sides of them when they are with people they are comfortable with. It’s not like they both reveal themselves through actions, gestures & well placed quips, nor like they both show their care through thoughtful gifts—imagine if even their gifts were complementary: one giving paints the other brushes, one giving books and the other a reading lamp… nah, couldn’t be.

…

Right ?

… Not to mention their lack of understanding:

If at least SJM showed that they understood one another despite all of the red flags described above, they might be able to grow together, but let’s be real, she just hasn’t.

She’s never pointed out that Azriel, like Elain, understands what it is like to struggle with rare, prized powers in silence; what it’s like to be othered by them. All that time together and he's never bothered to actually listen to her.

Those two can’t even read each other without words nor communicate with just a look, so how could they work? Anyways, even IF they could (which the bonus shows they can't), everyone knows that the basis of any healthy relationship is ceaseless friendly banter, so even then they make no sense. She doesn't even bring him joy, let alone make him laugh: even their senses of humor are incompatible!

Their powers are too different, and in no way complementary; she sees everything and he hears everything, that’s like, not even the same senses. He walks through a shadow realm and she Sees through a murky realm—not to mention that what she doesn’t See is all « mist and shadows », so obviously their powers could never work together.

After all, Azriel is a Shadowsinger, it’s not just some title people have made up, and honestly Elain would not understand that.

She’s never looked at his swirling shadows, wide eyed (with awe)…. nah she just ignores them. His shadows lightening at the sight of her smile has such a negative connotation, too.

All those visions she has, plaguing her mind, they’re just too dissimilar to the voices howling in his head, which is obviously why she hasn’t noticed his headaches. His head quieting around her is such a red flag, I’m sorry.

PLUS, don’t you guys remember all the times she’s flinched away from him? She won’t even see beauty in his scars, for Mother’s sake, how could she ever possibly love all of him? If you want to see all the ways in which Elain is clueless in terms of who Az is, check out this post (shoutout to my fellow enlightened Elriels, @nikethestatue and @rahjasmine).

I mean, does everyone forget that Elain even loses her newfound boldness around hi—

...

Like babes.

[xjulixred45x]

OKAY, I know I should work on the requests but I recently discovered the story of the game HADES and as a Greek mythology nerd that I am, I became obsessed, so I ask you to imagine this scenario that unfortunately I have not seen anywhere:

Platonic Yandere Zagreus+ Reader x son! reader

let me explain myself.

Imagine that we are between Hades 1 and Hades 2, where everything seems to be going well for Zagreus and his partner, both living in the Underworld and occasionally visiting the surface, but paying attention to their duties in general.

then they have a son! reader. Their pride and joy.

Zagreus probably thought that it would be difficult to have children without any kind of divine intervention, so seeing that his son was born alive by himself was a great relief and even pride, because it meant that he probably wouldn't have the same problem as his father, he would be freer than him.

son!reader ends up being a child who is super spoiled by his parents thanks to this, filled with affection not only from them, but from the vast majority of the beings in the Underworld, Achilles being a kind of Fun Uncle, Meg a cool teacher, Thanatos and Hypnos second father figures, etc.

even HADES loved this child.

the only problem that son! reader has is that, like his father and mother, he was very curious and stubborn. which led to the incident before he reached puberty.

It was an occasion where Zagreus and Reader were away due to a hasty visit to the surface, so son! Reader, like every child, did what he was told not to do:

get off the safe path.

From then on son! reader can die however you prefer, perhaps by the Hydra, by one of the enemies on the upper levels, by the river Styx, but my favorite excuse is that he found where the titans were and fell from the shock, dying instantly ( drawing a parallel with mythological Zagreus).

And when Zagreus and his partner find out? God, to say that they are devastated would be an understatement for their pain.

Everyone is hurt and sad about what happened, everything feels so silent now, heavy, empty...

to the point that the prayers of the beings of the Underworld reach the ears of Zeus, who in a certain way feels sorry for his brother for having lost a grandson and Zagreus for his son, who decides to apply Dionysus's typenof move, that is, leave the heart of the child in the womb of a human woman.

Zagreus is difficult to convince, he wants Zeus to do this directly with the reader, but if this is the only alternative, he will accept it. More when the mental health of both has also been seriously affected by this(Zagreus having mutilation and Self harm tendencies bc of grief and incapility of die? yep, although he'll probably be very worried if reader starts to seem like them too.)

And so the agonizing wait begins, the weeks go by, the months go by, and Zagreus and the reader are increasingly anxious and impatient. more distressed with a new day of silence at home, with each day of inactivity, with each hour that their child's room is empty...

But the wait pays off, when Zeus gives them the news that the time has finally come for them to go look for their son.

Zagreus takes off at full speed, with various bonuses given by people like Thanatos, Charon, some Olympians, hell, even his father goes easy on him.

and he begins to search quickly with the little time he has on the surface for his son, being guided by Zeus to where his son was.

When Zagreus was beginning to weaken and felt that he had come in vain, he heard it. a laugh, a small voice that he hadn't heard in a long time.

His son...alive again...

Here things are separated a little. two different scenarios.

1: SON! READER REMEMBER HIS LIFE LIKE GOD

This case is the fluffiest of all and definitely the least yandere.

when son!reader sees Zagreus he's running out to meet him, melting the godling's heart, relieved that his son is not only back in body, but in spirit.

They both return to the Underworld and receive them all with great joy, they ruffle the child's hair, give him gifts, Dionysius may even throw a party in honor of his return.

but it doesn't mean there isn't Yandere stuff.

Zagreus becomes incredibly overprotective of son! reader, to a disturbing degree, now practically does not leave him alone. the same with reader. If he is not with one, he is with another.

they make son! reader accompanies them everywhere and can only play with their supervision, only them, not anyone else. because the previous one was very effective last time.

I think the reader would use the death of son! reader like an auk to keep him fearful and thus avoid another incident. in general both being very obsessive with this new opportunity to have their son back.

Although it's not so bad, Zagreus and the reader continue to bombard him with love and affection, bringing him gifts, reading to him or telling him legends, even now they take him to the surface with them! It is within the scope of a happy ending, they could overcome their unhealthy tendencies over time...I hope.

The only way in this scenario for both of them to become yandere as is is if some person on the surface is "badly influencing" son! reader to be more independent or worse, go to the battlefield.

There Zagreus will directly get rid of said influence with the help of Thanatos.

Now, the most intense and interesting scenario.

2: SON! READER DOES NOT REMEMBER ANYTHING ABOUT HIS LIFE AS ZAGREUS'S AND READER'S SON

Imagine that you are an apparently normal child with some strange characteristics (like maybe red feet or heterochromia), living peacefully with your parents that you have known all your life as a mortal... and FROM NOWHERE the fucking GOD OF THE UNDERWORLD comes to tell you who you are HIS child and not of your PARENTS....

practically this reader.

Zagreus would believe that after having spent so much time among mortals his son has forgotten his true lineage and even finds his innocence cute with the whole thing, but they must return to their TRUE home as soon as possible.

Since he is a god, A SON OF HADES, even if the reader's parents love him, they cannot fight for him, so they give him to Zagreus.

Zagreus is overjoyed with this, reader is so confused.

because after all he does NOT know these people, he does not know this supposed father who ripped him away from his birth family, he does not know his supposed mother who greets him with tears in her eyes when they arrive at the damn Underworld.

He doesn't know any of the gods who welcome him warmly, who ruffle his hair, who call him cute nicknames, who seem to have known him all his life when they don't.

reader is feeling like some kind of glorified pet. an empty replacement. This is not his house, his HOME.

while Zagreus and reader think that their son must be feeling very shocked by all the information and come home that they simply shower him with more love. much to the child's displeasure.

If the reader continues to insist that he doesn't really remember them, Zagreus will probably dismiss it as something temporary, which is simply the adjustment after an event as traumatic as dying (he gets it, seriously! he dies every now and then, but he doesn't want to think about on what it must have been like for his son).

while reader will try with Thanatos to make him remember things from the past, show him family photos and portraits that they made before the tragedy, his room, his old toys and stories behind them. all with so much love that the reader feels uncomfortable, as if he were usurping the place of their true son.

I think the reader would be especially uncomfortable if mom!reader were also a goddess, he feels VERY intimidated by both of them, but when they show this very...vulnerable and loving side...he doesn't know what to think.

In this scenario, both Zagreus and reader are more overtly manipulative and yandere. Zagreus can use his thousands of failed attempts to try to get out of the underworld on his own so that reader doesn't even think about doing so, while reader uses the reader's death as a way to guilt trip him so he doesn't leave them.

The reader feels bad for them and their son, but is very afraid of them. More after seeing Zagreus angry.

At first they would see Reader's attempts to escape as something "cute" thinking that he was "imitating young Zagreus" and was not serious. Of course, if he ran into a shade, Zagreus would appear and take him home. simply a game.

But when they were lost for long periods of time, they had a panic attack thinking that the accident had happened again. and when Zagreus found the reader, on a higher level and with scratches, he was furious, almost killing all the beings on that level.

It was enough to solidify the reader's decision to want to leave. This man was not only terrifying, he was dangerous.

I think that in this case there would be characters like Meg, Patroclus, Odysseus, even Thanatos himself who realize the reader's discomfort around his "parents" and even become his only allies in his escape attempts.

but because they isolate him so much, so much to the point that he can only leave the house of Hades if it is with them, no one else, and they see the desire to RUN in his face. They feel compassion for him.

This is how a new story in Hades begins. As a reader you will have to face many powerful deities, shadows, and more to escape not only from the Underworld, but from your delirious new family.

but Zagreus would not be himself if he were not stubborn and persistent . I wouldn't let him run and escape easily. not this time.

Could reader do it? let the game begin.

Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!

What can i Say? I'm obsessed over games i will NEVER get to play :,) but at least i'll try to see gameplays.

[kiritila]

Are you still gonna be updating no one saw me?

this is such a long time overdue, but since ive been away so long i figured this would be a good way to address everything, like whats been happening in my life and my future plans for no1sm for everyones clarity.

to put it shortly, i work full-time, and have done for nearly 2 years now. i am a product designer and i work monday-friday, 9-5. i attend a full day of college classes once a week, this day being even longer than a work day, and on top of that i have a personal work-based tutor that i have to complete work for as well. so in terms of professional obligations, im extremely busy. in my personal life, ive been seeing friends a lot, running errands, planning for weddings, parties, buying a car, SO MANY THINGS. my life has been so hectic.

ive also been suffering some health problems recently. my earliest or readers that are close friends probably know i began writing no1sm to vent my feelings about trauma i underwent, and this obviously still affects me quite greatly alongside depression and anxiety. ive also been suffering quite badly with insomnia and fatigue problems, as well as, embarrassingly, moderately bad eczema.

perhaps the most ridiculous development of all: I AM NOT CURRENTLY HYPERFIXATED ON SOUTH PARK. SHOCK HORROR. BUT PLEASE DONT PANIC: it is still my spin, stan and kyle are still my most favourite characters ever, and most of all i still ENJOY south park and enjoy thinking about, planning, and writing no1sm (when im not completely utterly knackered). ive actually recently gotten majorly into formula 1 as a result of my friends, so if there are any f1 fans following me PLEASE SAY HI!!!!! i plan to do art for it but i have been busy and im also very much a perfectionist. (FYI: my favourite driver is max verstappen. no questions asked. i also love charles daniel lando oscar and honestly most drivers on the grid. i love niki lauda james hunt seb vettel and jenson button. i had a brief mclaren tooned hyperfixation. I AM CURRENTLY INCREDIBLY DEPRESSED OVER DANIEL RICCIARDO LOSING HIS SEAT)

anyway.. getting back on track.

AM I STILL GOING TO BE UPDATING NO1SM?

YES. YES YES A MILLION TIMES YES. i dont know when, but this story is something i have to complete for myself and for you guys. i realised i was putting myself under so much pressure for it to be perfect that it sapped the love i felt for it from me. now that i no longer have visible eyes on me waiting for updates on twitter, i feel much freer and relaxed with it. i dont know how or when, but yes, the story will be completed. do not ask me about the kyle prequel ive planned though DONT DO IT.

i also dont plan on posting about updates anywhere other than tumblr going forwards. ive since moved on from the twitter south park fandom where i was most active, as i felt like i was too old to be in a fandom of minors and the discourse was simply too much. so i decided to move to a fan space and sport that is a million times worse but still somehow has been better for me. so if you still want to follow me on twitter even though i dont south park post anymore, you can follow me at @vrstappns :)

WILL NO1SM HAVE AN UPDATE SCHEDULE?

NO. sorry, my mental health and my career comes first. i want to try and find a better balance that leaves me time to write but im afraid i need time to ease myself back in after so long off and theres no guarantee how long that will take me.

WILL YOU STILL BE MAKING ART FOR NO1SM?

YES. I HOPE. who knows when though cause i havent been able to draw in a long time and im still pissed off that i cant draw max verstappen as easily as i could ever draw kyle broflovski.

AM I ALLOWED TO USE YOUR STORY AND WRITE THE ENDING FOR MYSELF?

NO. PLEASE DO NOT DO THIS. as much as other authors may encourage this I REALLY DO NOT LIKE THIS. you dont know how much work i have put into this fic as well as how much of my own life and traumas are embedded between the lines of writing. this fic is practically half of me in the same way my parents’ DNA is a part of my make-up. not to sound rude but to even think you could possibly imagine how i intend for this fic to resolve and end when you dont even know me is laughable.

HOW WILL THE INTENSE HOMOSEXUAL RIVALRIES OF FORMULA ONE INFLUENCE THE INTENSE HOMOSEXUAL RIVALRY OF STAN AND KYLE GOING FORWARDS?

im sure 2019 charles leclerc and max verstappen guided carefully by brocedes and james hunt and niki lauda will figure something out. maybe not brocedes actually i am unsure if i want stan marsh to end up like nico rosberg. but i guess he is a good youtuber too and has great hair which is two things stan is NOT. gay loser. also david coulthard and sebastian vettel are there somewhere. GAY RED BULL RACING WILL LEAD US TO WORLD PEACE

thank you so much for reading, i know youve all probably moved on with your life but its a weight off my chest to finally write this out. i love this fic and i love that you all love this fic, if you are still here. i can only apologise for how long ive made you all wait.

please just have patience with me,

thanks muchly,

mike (formerly marshplaylist) vrstappns

[rainintheevening]

Part I – Part II ... Part XVII – Part XVIII

They don't set out to become the kings of St. Maurice’s School for Boys, it just sort of happens.

Peter's not trying to be a king so much as be King Peter, not trying to lead so much as care for others, but it feels so natural to speak up, to step forward, to give orders and receive respect. He doesn't ask to be called ‘sir’, as the younger boys do when he scolds them, and he feels embarrassed when he hears other boys say, “Here comes His Majesty.” He's not the king of this school, he's not even Head Boy. He's just… Peter Pevensie. And yet, somehow, he knows he's High King Peter too, he remembers being that, and it lingers in his body and mind, sinew and soul altered in ways he cannot take back. He wouldn't take it back even if he could.

It's easier for Peter to see the little things in Edmund than himself: the way he laughs freer and brighter, even as he studies harder and deeper; the calmness with which he takes insults; the concern with which he addresses people in the wrong.

Peter finds himself instinctively turning toward the sounds of shouts and fists, finds himself leaping to either halt or join the altercations, depending on their nature. He's quick to see who's at a disadvantage, quick to pick a side if there's a clear one. Ed has similar tendencies, though he's sharper with his tongue, prefers to break up fights with some pointed words, and only the threat of fists, unless his brother is already embroiled.

Peter's ear seems specially tuned to his brother's voice, easily picking it out of any row, no matter how many boys may be shouting, and he is never surprised to discover Edmund at his side in the thick of it. They look after each other, guard each other's backs as much as possible, fight for each other when they must.

By the end of the winter term, they are both widely accepted leaders across the school, Peter on a level with Head Boy Wollers, and Ed as something similar among the lower forms, who consider him more accessible than Peter.

He picks out a pattern in the whispers: If you want protection, go to Peter; if you want clever ideas, go to Edmund. And it makes him smile, another echo of their kingship and the roles they'd taken while ruling from the Cair.

They stop bullies, and lift spirits, and it's all good, it's right, it's what Aslan would want, Peter's certain.

And then they go home.

Home for the Easter hols, home to Finchley for the first time since they left it in the autumn, when the bombing had only begun, and they sit silent on the train drawing them into London, dragging them out of the near-dream they suddenly know school to have been.

They have to change trains twice, because the lines are knocked out, and slow-rising tension crawls up Peter's spine, works knots into his shoulders.

It comes in flashes between the stretches of unspoiled land: the edge of a city bombed into jagged walls against pale sky, someone's kitchen gaping open to the air like a wound, a funeral procession down a country lane.

Closing in on London in the evening, the ragged grey look of everything increases, and silence settles in their compartment. They come into Tottenham Station minutes before blackout descends, and disembark into the brokenness of patched up walls, and boarded up windows. Their train is late, no one is waiting, they'll have to walk all the way up Tottenham Road to take the Tube from Euston. Even in the station their breath makes clouds before their faces.

Outside, the cab stand is empty, and they say nothing, hoisting trunks up to their shoulders, Edmund his shadow as he turns down the street. The edge of the heavy trunk digs into Peter's shoulder, it is deucedly hard to balance with his suitcase dangling from one hand, but he breathes, walks, one foot in front of the other.

It's hard to breathe, hard to see, they are walking through wounds, great gaping wounds bleeding fire and stone, city skin torn open to vital parts, and Peter does not know this London. He walks as if in a dream, slow and stunned, only the occasional knock of Edmund's arm against his reminding Peter he is in fact awake.

Halfway there, Edmund is forced to rest; he's smaller, not as strong as Peter, but his trunk weighs nearly the same.

Ed sits on his trunk, panting, and Peter says nothing, because there is nothing to say, just stretches his back, trying to stand tall, peering up into the blackout murk, searching for the sky.

Chilly, twilight air hangs heavy with smoke and dust, sharp, angry smells that send memories flickering through Peter's head like a faulty film reel at a picture—smoke above trees, smashed stone walls, reek of blood, red streaked down Rhindon's silver blade, giant's club smashing down on Edmund, shout burning in his throat, Erah's face coated in scarlet dried to rust, stern sorrow for destruction, Ed's pale but smiling face…

“Peter? Pete!” Tugging at his sleeve, and he starts, looks over into his little brother's worried eyes. “Are you alright?”

“It's wrong.” Peter waves a hand around them, ember broke to flame in his chest. An old woman limps past, head down, torch pointed at the ground to see her way. She doesn't even glance at them. “All wrong.”

And he reaches for Rhindon, but finds nothing, his hands are empty, he's in his school uniform not armour, he's a boy alone in the streets of London–

The air-raid sirens blare.

Fear gives them strength, and the world blurs until they tumble down the steps to the underground station, trunks and all.

Packed in with the hundreds of others sheltering there, they surrender the preferred positions on top of their trunks to older folk with bad knees, and huddle beside them on the cold concrete platform, Edmund pressed close enough for Peter to hear his whisper: “I wish we'd never come back.”

A little boy with a sticking plaster on his chin is squirming in an older girl’s arms, querulous with his need for the toilet, and an old milk bottle gets passed over.

Peter is trying not to breathe too deeply, the reek of the sweaty, fearful crowd nearly enough to make him gag. He doesn't know if Ed means back from school or back from Narnia, but he agrees with either.

“I hate bombs.” He rests his head against Ed's, sticks his nose into his brother's hair that still carries a hint of Yorkshire moor mist, closes his eyes. “Rather catapults, or even a dragon.”

The fire in Peter’s heart burns there, gnaws at his breastbone, his lungs. His hands keep clenching into fists, before the ache of his muscles catches his attention and he forces himself to relax.

The ground beneath them shivers, the lights flicker.

A baby cries, a dog whines, someone begins to sing, and Peter feels as if the concrete roof has already caved in on him, he is trapped, squeezed, he can't move, he can't do anything.

Oh, for a sword, an army, for Aslan! But Peter can't imagine the great Lion in all His beauty here, in this dingy foul smelling crowd. He closes his eyes again, wraps an arm tight around Ed.

Ed sings softly with the others: Abide with me, fast falls the eventide…

It's after 11 by the time they drag up the steps of their home, and no light escapes at any window, they cannot tell if anyone is even there. The girls have been delayed letting out thanks to a suspected case of the measles, and sometimes Mother works very late…

A light is on in the kitchen.

In the front hall, Ed drops down on his trunk, wordless, but Peter halts one step into the living room.

The fire in the hearth has burned down low, but there is enough light for him to see the woman lying across the sofa, still in her factory overall, so heavily asleep two boys blundering in with their luggage could not wake her.

Behind him Edmund starts to speak, but Peter turns, grabs Ed’s arm to tow him in his wake as he fumbles blindly into the kitchen.

He thinks his heart is breaking.

He sees the table set for three, supper gone cool, everything waiting for them, she must have fallen asleep waiting, and Peter… he thinks he's going to cry.

He doesn't.

His voice sounds odd and crackly as he tells Edmund, “Go and wake her gently. I'll reheat the soup.”

Peter comes awake in his own bed, sometime early morning, perhaps when he usually rises to go out to the stables, but he lies in complete darkness, listening to mother quietly moving about the kitchen, the door shutting behind her as she leaves to catch her bus to the factory…

And then he hears the air raid sirens very faint and far away, somewhere to the west, and he doesn't know why exactly but he is crying.

He rolls over to bury his face in his pillow, muffle the sobs, but they break out hard and fast, like the wild fire in his chest has become a bird beating its wings against his ribcage, and there is no escape, there is nothing he can do. He is nobody here, nothing, he doesn't count. He is small and trapped, and wild for open sky and the woods and the great moor rolling away and a fresh horse under him.

He thinks of the boy with the sticking plaster, the girl with the glasses, the great jagged wall that had once been a bakery! he suddenly remembered, with the most delicious cinnamon stickies one could imagine. And Mother, oh, Mum, it's not fair, you shouldn't have to work like this, it's all wrong, wrong!

He is weeping, broken open with a kind of hopeless fury for the pain around him, sobbing in the dark.

A patting hand finds his head, his shoulder, and Peter catches his breath, feels Edmund's weight dipping the mattress, a fumbling offer of comfort the way he knows Peter receives it best, and Peter… Peter cannot bear it, he flinches. Sob strangling in his throat, and he jerks back from the touch, curls away from the loving warmth of his brother, covers his mouth with a hand.

He does not want to be seen or heard, not like this, so wrecked and vulnerable, so weak and useless.

Hasty, fierce, he swallows the heaving, stamps out the fire, chokes down the tears, wrestling his body into a trembling, sniffling quietude.

“The only place you're useless is in the kitchen making tea.”

He stiffens at Edmund's hard-edged words, unbalanced by the wondering of how much he may have said aloud, or how much Ed might have guessed.

Edmund stands, moves away. “Come on, it's nearly six, and I'm starving—let's get breakfast.”

And then he's gone, creaking down the stairs, and Peter lies still, a few more tears making their way down the side of his face to the pillow. There is a cold space at his back, he is empty inside, hungry and weary in equal measure.

He does not understand. Any of this. Or so he tells the shadows.

He only understands that it hurts.

Next

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Dom Chris making needy, desperate Seb tell him about all his favorite fantasies while not touching him and making Seb either use a flashlight or a dildo send tweet ask

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

YES!

And as fucking much as I love the idea of Sebastian being left out to dry, allowed to pleasure himself with a fleshlight or dildo but not having permission to cum, not until Chris is satisfied by the amount of filthy, dirty little secrets he gets Seb to spill, consider the idea of Chris touching Sebastian extensively, driving him out of his mind, not letting him cum but making sure he feels so, so good and he will keep feeling good... he just has to keep talking.

I say consider because if Chris is the one doing all the hard work of coordinating the rhythm and deciding when Sebastian has earned more or less stimulation, then Seb's mouth is that much freer to spill all his fantasies. He'd be so out of control, unthinking, just talking. Floundering, fully submitting to Chris' whims.

Further, imagine that they've just gotten together officially after dancing around each other for a while, keeping up with the friends with benefits charade even as they develop feelings for each other and are exclusive. So, while Chris knows Sebastian responds very, very well to praise and direction, he doesn't know just how deep that runs within Seb. As a result, he wants to find out. He's curious. He has a hunch, but he really needs to know if he's right or not for sure, so...

Time to fuck around and find out.

Including: kink discovery, collars/leashes/cages mentioned, an utterance of "pet", dom/sub undertones, etc.

Sebastian is a gorgeous, rare specimen spread out beneath Chris in perfect technicolor. Rare and precious, he is immobilized against Chris' bed like a butterfly secured to cork board by entomological pins. He isn't going anywhere.

Sebastian's pins, really, are silk neckties--the easiest thing Chris had on hand to help with his plan for drawing out every latent fantasy that Sebastian seems to be full of yet just can't manage to get out of his mouth without a little bit of encouragement. Chris is here to encourage him. He just needs a little push to get over that hump so everything going on in that pretty little head can be shared with the class. Chris needs to know him inside and out. It's all he wants.

And according to Chris' wants, Sebastian's wrists are tied to the headboard, one at each corner, and his legs are arranged similarly to the baseboard, so he's really fucking spread open. Beyond that, though, Seb's eyes are also covered, another necktie keeping him in the dark so he can't predict the way Chris is jerking him off.

There's no real rhythm to his hand as he strokes him. He doesn't even stroke him sometimes. Chris is doing entirely as he sees fit, keeping his fist really, really wet and slick with lube but not consistently squeezing or keeping loose or going fast or going slow. He's not even continually teasing his foreskin or tugging at and rolling his balls. He's leaving it all random. He doesn't want Seb to be able to get a fucking grip.

The only dependent factor out of this whole experiment is what comes out of Sebastian's mouth. Everything else is up to Chris' whim and, isn't that telling?, how much Sebastian likes it.

He really likes it.

They haven't been having bad sex up until this point, not by any stretch of the imagination. But the sex they've been having, as heart-stoppingly good as it was, doesn't compare to this. They're not even really having sex. Like. They are. But no one's getting penetrated? Chris isn't even getting touched? So, whatever? Sex or not sex, this is electric. The undercurrent is crackling. Tight, hot, and expectant.

It's magic.

Sebastian really fucking likes this.

Chris really, really fuckin' likes this, too. He likes it way more than he even thought he would when he devised this devious, perverted plan in the privacy of his own dirty mind.

Jesus Christ.

At some points, Chris has been nice enough to start stretching out his hole, sliding in two fingers to his smooth, wet, heat, just enough to curl and rub and press against his prostate. Nothing more. They're at Chris' house in Boston, so they don't have a ton of supplies, not Sebastian's in NYC which does contain lots of, uh, supplies (which was another hint to Chris that Seb is into way, way more than he lets on, way more than he can stutter out around a blush), and definitely not in the bare-bones environment of some random-ass hotel room in the middle of wherever. So, there are options, obviously, but not a ton.

So, Chris is working mostly with his hands. Chris likes working with his hands. He's hands-on whenever the option is allowed. He's working completely with his hands if the neckties are to be discarded and ignored. Which. Sebastian seems to be incrementally forgetting about them. Every few minutes, when Chris does something that feels particularly good, particularly randomly, shockingly, and Sebastian jolts, tugging harshly against his restraints before settling again, whining for a moment but accepting his fate. Accepting and loving his fate if his following shuddering groans and moans are anything to go by.

Chris feels like a kid in a candy shop, grinning to himself wickedly. He likes this! He really fucking likes this! They both do.

But.

His hands.

Mostly, it's Chris' hands.

He's jerking Sebastian off. No real pattern, just a single-minded goal to drive him out of his mind, hitting all those sensitive places sometimes and other times not. Just because.

Chris works Sebastian chaotically up to orgasm with his hands--touching him wherever he pleases, and he pleases that entire fucking gorgeous body--but backing him down before he can fall over the edge to heightened bliss.

He's flicking those poor, hard nipples and making Seb's chest heave with cries of desperation. He responds so well to just a little bit of nail, adding to the bite of an otherwise simple pinch. Just a tiny bit more pain. He's, just, so responsive. And responsive to everything--pleasure, praise, pain, orders, everything. It makes Chris eager to do more.

Truly, this is, already, more than he's done with anyone else--kinkier than anything else he's experienced with anyone--just by virtue of tying and blindfolding and ordering Seb to talk about anything and everything that makes his dick hard, but... with Sebastian underneath him? Reacting like that? Looking like that? He could do this all fucking day and not bat an eye.

It's impossibly hard to think deeply with such intense, heavy fog clouding his head. As much as Seb likes this, Chris does. He might even fucking like it all more because he's so shocked by how every bit of this, every word that trips and falls out of Sebastian's mouth, turns him on. How did he not fucking now this about himself? Was he just waiting for Sebastian to come along so he could be unmasked? Why was nothing this good with anyone else?

Fuck.

Chris has it bad.

He's fingering him. One finger, then two, then going after his sweet spot, and knowing exactly when he hits it because Sebastian's noises get just that much more needy. He's loud. It's perfect. Moaning, gasping, and clenching with wet sounds around Chris' fingers as he blubbers about his fingers.

Chris is beginning to think Seb has some kind of fetish for just his hands. But maybe it's just the bias of Chris only using his hands. It's possible.

He's playing with his balls then, rolling them, tugging at them, feeling their weight, and painting Seb a picture about how good they look after being backed off from so many orgasms. Right between his legs, his balls are all drawn up tight and full, eager for his release. Yeah. Yeah, he's gonna make a big fucking mess for him, isn't he? He's rubbing his perineum, torturing his prostate not just from the inside but the out, too--worrying over that tender little spot and loving how it makes Seb howl.

He's kissing him and biting his jaw and nibbling at his ear and even daring to suck marks into his spread, quivering inner thighs, adding to Sebastian's pleasure with his mouth. Chris fucking loves how the suddenness of each unexpected kiss makes Seb turn, squirming, nearly thrashing, sometimes into it and sometimes away from from. Wanting it so fucking badly that he'll chase it, but also so overwhelmed that he doesn't know what he really wants. He doesn't know anything. He's just handing it all over to Chris. Giving it up. Trusting him.

God.

That's so fucking hot.

It's no wonder Seb is saying all kinds of dirty things like this. He's fucking strung out. Chris can't imagine how maddening it feels. He thinks he'd be overwhelmed as hell, probably fucking dying, just wanting to get off and stop already, so much sensation that it's blinding, despite being blindfolded. But, every time he checks in and gives Sebastian an easy out, he pleads with Chris to keep going. He's sobbing now.

Desperate.

And Chris... Chris has seen porn where people cry it in before. Of course. Chris has had sex where his partner has cried from how much meaning was laced into it. (More often, Chris has been that partner so caught up in it, really fucking making love, that he's cried.) He's never--he's never known how fucking erotic it is to make someone cry because they're so out of their mind.

So, so out of their mind--his mind, this is Sebastian he's talking about, that Chris can't help but blurt out some of his own unrealized, buried fantasies, too. He's just so drawn into and feeding off of the crazed heat rolling off of Sebastian in waves. He can't filter himself, groaning, "could lead you around by the cock like this, hmm? Couldn't I, baby? You'd let me." He doesn't even know what he's saying, he doesn't know what he means, he doesn't know where it comes from, he just knows that Sebastian likes it, crying so hard, nodding so urgently, it seems like he's possessed.

"Please, please!" Sebastian whimpers urgently, his words blurring together.

"You want that?" Chris pushes, he's so fucking hard he can't stand it. But. He also can't take his hands off of Sebastian. He wouldn't survive a moment not touching him when he's like this.

"Yes!" He whines, so loud and so high that it's got to hurt his throat. If it does, at this point, Sebastian doesn't fucking notice or care.

"What else?" Chris asks for the millionth time tonight. He wants to pull everything single thing out of Sebastian. He wants to know him when he's entirely unraveled. And he's feeling that, at this point, he should either be taking fucking notes or, damn, he should've thought to record this. It'd be great reference (and great jerk off) material. If only he'd thought of that before...

"L-lead me around by the, the cock like 'm leashed." Sebastian whimpers.

Fire burns, tears, and rips hotly through Chris immediately. The way he says that word.

Leashed.

Chris moans raggedly.

He's never considered leashing someone like they're a goddamn pet he needs to keep close, but, Jesus Christ, something inside him is so possessive and greedy and obsessed with Sebastian and all his prettiness that yeah. Yeah, he could do that. He could leash him, lead him around, and keep him close. He'd take care of him. Feed him, bathe him, love him--

Chris cuts off his horny caveman spiral, murmuring, mostly to himself, "you'd need a collar first if you wanna be leashed, honey."

Sebastian hears him, though, and he sobs wordlessly. Reacting so responsively to him, like always, stretching his neck back, arching as if to show off the pale, elegant column of his throat, putting it on display so Chris can take in how empty it looks without anything there laying claim to him. He needs a collar. If not a collar, at least, he needs a necklace of love bites. Teeth marks. Hickies. But they can't do that, Seb can't go outside like that. A collar would be...

Yeah.

That'd be fucking something.

Just for them.

No one else around. Behind closed doors. A mark of trust and submission and--

Chris growls.

"Yeah, baby?" Chris jumps off the deep end, joining Sebastian as he drowns, uncaring about the burn of water getting into his lungs, "you want that? You want a nice collar and leash so I can keep you close to me?"

"Yes!" Seb cries, his muscles tensing and rippling like he just can't contain himself--it sounds that fucking sexy to him.

God, Chris is so into how into this Seb is.

Chris isn't sure if he's actually got any of these kinks, but it doesn't matter when he has such a strong, potent kink for Sebastian. He wants Sebastian so bad. He wants to eat him. He wants to please him. He needs to give him everything he wants--everything he deserves. He'd do anything for him, pretty baby.

"Should I get you tags, too?" Chris is teasing, breathless. Mostly. He is also curious. Where does this end? How far will he go? How far will they go? Is there more pleasure to extract from this? How can there be more? Better? Huh?

"Oh, god!" Seb chokes on a moan.

"What was that?" Chris chuckles despite how fast his head is spinning, no longer fingering Seb but jerking off his throbbing cock instead. He's throbbing. Twitching. Jerking.

"Ohmygodd, tags! I want tags, wanna be yours--p-property of Chris Evans--want you to collar me and keep me and lead me around by my leash. Want everyone to know. Wanna be good for you. I'll do anything. Just, please. I want it. Wanna be collared and leashed and--"

"And?" Chris cuts in. Seb's spiraling, going down, down, down. Chris wants to know how far he'll go, but he's got to direct a little. He doesn't mind. He fucking loves directing, especially directing such a sweet thing like Sebastian.

"My collar and leash and you can put me in my cage and--"

"Cage?" Chris questions, so dangerously, hotlt intrigued.

Seb makes this high, pitchy sound that says that that wasn't supposed to come out of his mouth, but it did anyway. If his hands were free, Chris suspects they would be slapped over his mouth in embarrassment, yearning to take back what he just let slip. "S-sorry," he whimpers, all desperate and cute, "'m so--"

Chris cuts him off, "it's okay, honey," he soothes, rubbing his cock fast and tight just for that. Seb keens. Pleasured hard. "I didn't say cage, but that's 'cause I didn't know you wanted a cage. You can have a cage, sure thing, sweetheart. What about your cage?"

"I, I, oh god, I saw a cage that fits underneath a bed online, and I want it," he sobs. "I want it." He's shaking so hard, jerking as much as he can up into Chris' fist. It's not very much. He's so weak. "I wanna be in my cage, collared and leashed. You can tie my leash to the bars of the cage and leave me there with a toy to keep me, me, keep me occupied."

"What kinda toy?" Chris urges.

"Hnngh, anything, anything you want. Just. Just something to keep me occupied and hard while you're in bed relaxing. 'M just so needy you needed a break, and I'm dying. I'm hard and whining and you won't touch me, won't lemme cum even though I need to. I need it. But you won't let me."

"Why not? Why wouldn't I let you?"

"'Cause you know what I need. You know better than me. You know, you know--"

"Do I?"

"Mmm-hmm! You know what I need, I just get so, so... I need you. Need you to tell me what to do. Need you to collar me and leash me and cage me and have me. Wanna be owned. Wanna be yours. Please?"

"Say that again."

"Wanna be yours."

"Who's?"

"Yours!"

"Say my name, Seb, and I'll let you cum."

"C-Chris!"

"Again."

"Chris!"

"Who's name is gonna be on your collar, honey?"

"Chris!"

"And where are your manners, Seb?"

"Please, Chris, pleeease!"

"Good," Sebastian convulse from just the single word, shaking apart worse as he says it again, "good boy. I want that, too. I wanna give you what you need, you kinky fucker," he chuckles, "and I want you to cum, right now."

Sebastian cries out so hard that his voice breaks into silence. Shattered. But he does as Chris demands. And, oh my god, Chris is going to be hard pressed to get off any other way ever again now that he knows he can make Seb cum because he told him to.

Fuck.

[animeyanderelover]

For my Yandere Alphabet I always only accept 4 letters so I'll choose only 4 you named in your request.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, control, authority abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, strict behavior

Yandere Alphabet

Affection-How and how often do they show affection?

💓​Cornelia is very specific with her affection for you as she is an ardent believer that good treatment should only result from good behavior. As a family member of the royal family she is freer yet somehow also more restricted than others as she has duties to fulfill as the princess and warrior for her kingdom. Affection is a sign of her pride and fondness for you yet she can't be proud of you if you misbehave yourself and disrespect her so as she is the one in charge of you. If you want affection it needs to be earned and then she prefers to not make a show of it and keep it in more private surroundings. Whilst neither verbal nor physical affection are love signs she excells in, she still values quality time together with you as a bonding experience. Whether it is enjoying an expensive meal with you or taking you with her to a famous opera. Whilst she does give you gifts from time to time as well she isn't outright drowning you in lavish presents as she would think of it as a waste to give you more than you need. When she gifts you something then only when she knows that you need or want and will actually use it instead of letting it lie around somewhere to be forgotten.

Confession-How do they make their feelings visible? Would they ever confess and court their darling?

💓​Her feelings have always been tricky for the princess to accept, not even to mention to merely tolerate, as she possesses awareness of her own unhealthy emotions. Cornelia, the woman who prides herself as a strong warrior, feels ashamed of her own feelings that are out of her own grasp of control, something that has never quite happened to her before. It takes quite a lot out of her to stomach everything and in return your mere presence seems to put her in a worse mood as you are the catalyst of all of her current problems. She tries not to mind you but she can't help but hyper-focus on you a bit more which normally ends in her scolding you and calling you out for every little mistake you commit which she probably wouldn't have noticed under other circumstances. She'll give you an especially hard time if you are a servant or even a soldier serving her kingdom as it often feels like she is specifically targeting you. She will give praise where praise is deserved though so if you actually manage to elicit a compliment out of her you know that she is earnest.

💓​Mutual marriage is not a well-known topic in the royal family as most engagements are arranged as nobles are wed to other nobles. It would already take quite a bit of work to ease up her father and other advisors into the idea of her taking someone who might not even be a noble and in the worst case not even from Britain. With all of the effort she puts in to even ensure that everyone will tolerate it she will not make a fool out of herself by having you reject her. By the time she informs you about all the arrangements she has made as well as her own feelings both of you have already known each other for quite a while which means that by that point in time she has already gotten a good picture of how you see her. Depending on her observations as well as the conclusion she could draw from them she might be less strict and demanding if she at least knows that you are loyal and respect her very much. In either case though you will not be given the option to choose whether or not you even want to be her lover as she has already made that choice for you.

Earnest-How intense and dangerous are they really?

💓​Life with the Princess Cornelia can feel very restrictive and smothering. She never lets you off the hook even if you are her lover as she believes that the rules should reply to all people under her father's kingdom and she won't let you step out of line just because you think you have more privileges than others as she won't let you use her as a shield to get away with certain stuff. She has virtues which she lives by and which she demands all of her knights to have as well. Now that you also belong to her you have to live by those virtues as well and if you behave yourself, she will always without a fail have you punished. After all you are under her care and for that every act of rebellion and lack of respect would be directly disrespectful for her as well as put her in a position of embarrassment and humiliation as she is the one responsible for you. Her strictness shouldn't be mistaken with needless cruelty though as she never does anything that would torture you without any purpose, without any lesson she wants you to learn, behind it. She is domesticating you, establishes her own dominance without showing any weakness as you may otherwise see it as an opportunity to bite.

Sharing-Would they ever share their darling with someone/let them see others?

💓​Cornelia is a strong and independent woman who doesn't rely on anyone else. As a member of the royal family there are a lot of public events she is expected to attend to and in such instances she will take you with her as you now have a role to fulfill as her lover. If you should have previously misbehaved though you will be locked up as she won't let you disappoint her in front of other people. She wouldn't needlessly show you off though as she knows that there are people out there who fight against her kingdom and who would target you simply to deliver a cowardly blow to her. It's due to her independence that I can see her only willingly share her darling with two people. One of them would be Euphemia, her beloved younger sister who she adores and would trust and who would serve as the opposite that would balance life out for you a bit. The other option would be Guilford, her chosen Knight who has proven his dedication and loyalty to her over and over again and who she knows she can trust blindly with you.

[taciturnpoet]

okay here is the promised anderperry Icarus and the Sun/Apollo post because @73647e enabled me lol

this will be mostly rambling because I love this comparison (and use it a lot) so be happy if there is even a single coherent thought in this okay? talking about this makes my brain go FAST and I went over this about a thousand times so bear with me here

When I had first started thinking about this, I had originally thought of Neil being the Sun and Todd being Icarus. But then I realized no, their dynamic shifts and actually switches roles after Todd does the poem in Keating’s class.

In the beginning, Neil is the one that draws Todd into the group and persuades him to join the poets, all while also encouraging him to be himself and speak up more. While Todd is not only falling for Neil, he’s also trying to take Neil’s advice to heart since Neil is what Todd wants to be.

Neil could befriend a brick wall if left alone with it long enough. Everyone likes him and believes that he is made for great things (though not the same great things he wants to do), and you can tell that Todd wants to get to that point himself eventually. Todd’s been told his entire life that he will never amount to anything unless he becomes this thing he doesn’t even like, and Neil is more of what he aspires to be.

Then the poem in Keating’s class happens and things change.

After the poem, Todd starts to come into himself a little more. He’s gaining confidence in himself and his work—the work he wants to do, the work he’s passionate about—and he’s joking around and talking more with the poets. (Even though this scene is deleted, and I think that’s a crime) he reads a poem out loud to them and Keating at the end of the movie without Neil there.

Now, we know why Neil isn’t there, but that’s not important yet lol

Neil has been Todd's safety net, the person that kickstarted his self-confidence growth and made him truly embrace himself in the long run. By the end of the movie, Todd can show other people his work without Neil having to be there, which is a major development from Todd in the first poets meeting too afraid to speak and always looking to Neil for guidance.

When Todd is helping Neil practice his lines on the dock—another criminally deleted scene—he’s excited. He’s teasing Neil and playing around with him and becomes what he had the potential to be at the beginning of the movie with the help of Neil and Keating. 

Todd’s decided that he wanted to be his own person. He’s not going to try and live up to his parent’s expectations of him becoming a second Jeffrey, he’s going to pursue his writing and be his own person, and he appears to become so much freer after that realization. He’s embraced his passion for writing and poetry and pursues his art without hesitation, just as Neil wants to do with his acting, becoming a shining light of possibilities and potential, and most of all, freedom. 

After the poem, the glimpse of Todd’s brain, and his passion, Neil almost views it as something holy. In Neil’s eyes, Todd and his freedom are something to strive for, to look up to, and hope for like it's something divine. In a way, Todd becomes a symbol of freedom and passion, a beacon of everything Neil could be and wants to be/do.

I know we as a fandom talk about this a lot, but look at the way Neil looks at Todd after the poem, the way the sun is shining on his face and lighting him up only in the way it does whenever he’s having a Moment™ with Todd. No, seriously, it does that to him both when he decides to audition for the play and after the poem, but practically nowhere else in the movie.

Insanity. Anyway.

But then, during this same time that Todd is embracing his freedom, there is Neil. Neil who is practicing and alive and passionate while preparing for the play, making plans for the future, and dreaming of pursuing this life as an actor.

 ["God, for the first time in my whole life, I feel completely alive!" // "Most people, if they're lucky, live about half an exciting life. If I could get the parts, I could live dozens of great lives!"]

And yet, there is another Neil. The Neil who gets confronted by his father and told to stop doing the play, to stop acting, and give up his dreams, his passions, and what he believes to be his life, all to stay stuck in the existence his father wants him in. The Neil that goes to Keating for help and cries that he’s “trapped.”

The moment Neil decides to lie to Keating and tell him that he talked to his father, the moment he chooses to continue with the play and acting despite everything that could happen is the moment he cements his place as the Icarus in their dynamic. He chooses to ignore his father’s warnings against participating in the play and does it anyways. He chooses freedom and passion over safety. Neil chooses to fly.

Neil chose to take a chance, to try and escape and join Todd on the other side of freedom and authenticity, where he could pursue his dream and become an actor. He has his moment to shine, to taste the warmth of the stage lights akin to sunlight as he brings the play to life. All the possibilities, hopes, and dreams, all within his reach in the form of a crown made of sticks and leaves in a small-town theater. He can see his friends and his teacher in the crowd and feels invincible and in his element, bigger than life.

But then comes the melting of the wax and the plummet back to earth as he sees his father’s angry face in the back of the theater, and he knows.

He knew that there was no going back now, no reversing what he’d done, the fact that he’d lied to the two most influential men in his life for just a chance to join the other side. And yet, as someone pointed it out recently (I can’t find the post right now, I’m so sorry), there is a moment when Neil comes out after the play, and he smiles at his father, an attempt to see if maybe he won’t be falling tonight. But then his father doesn’t smile back, and everything goes by in a rushed blur of a freefall.

All of the poets try and reach out to him, to talk to him and congratulate him on his way out, but the only one he looks at is Todd. Todd, who’s so excited to see him afterward, tries to talk to him and get him to come back with them, but Neil smiles sadly at him and lets himself be dragged away. He knew he couldn’t put off this fight with his father forever and decided to stop hiding from it. He’s falling and isn’t trying to stop it.

I think Neil looks at Todd the way he does before they leave because a part of him knows he’s not coming back. He doesn’t want to go, but he can’t slow it down and spends his last moments with them looking at the boy whose become his Sun.

The descent is quick after the car pulls away, and Neil cannot stand up to his father. Every moment that led to Neil’s decision to be a part of the play, to follow Todd, is in the sun's bright light. It makes sense then that he’d die at night, with death embracing him with the sound of a gunshot rather than water splashing.

Todd finds out about Neil's death after sunrise. It's gray and quiet, but the sun still rises even after he knows Neil isn't rising with it.

And he's devastated, and he's angry, and he's no longer afraid to show that. He gets mad at Cameron for blaming Keating for Neil and believing he would kill himself under any circumstances other than his father. [“That is not true, Cameron, you know that. Keating didn’t put us up to anything. Neil loved acting!”]

Then, he gets mad at Nolan, talking back to him in front of his parents in that sham of a conference and in front of Keating's class as Keating is leaving. The same Nolan Todd nearly cried in front of on his first day at Welton because he was so afraid to speak his mind, to stand up for himself.

Todd is grieving, he is angry, and he is stronger than he was at the start. While he stands on his desk for Keating in a show of support, in thanks, he is also standing on his desk in thanks to Neil. For Neil.

Neil's gone. And yet, Todd shows his strength. He stands up for the ones he loves and is thankful for while also standing in defiance for those who played a hand in Neil's end and killing their dreams. He appears to smile ever-so-slightly when Keating looks at him, and Keating must know he'll be okay. 

His best friend is dead. The actor who brought a play to life and cast light everywhere he went was gone, but Todd isn't. Neil's light only reflected what Todd still had and would dedicate to Neil.

The freedom, art, and life that Todd now held were what Neil fell for, and Todd would spend his life creating in memory of the boy who fell trying to join him. Todd had to ensure that everyone would know the story of Neil Perry as much as they did Icarus. They were so similar, after all.

(this started to change halfway through, so idk if it makes sense but that’s fine. please talk to me about anything like this I get so excited about it lol)

[fyonahmacnally]

Supercorptober 2023

Day 6 & 7: Write/Love

The next few days are peaceful. Lena spends the mornings in the loft sifting through as many of the books as she can, learning about the Walsh heritage. She makes the conscious choice to venture into the other books with information about magic at a later time. Learning more about her family and where she comes from is filling a space inside her that she didn’t realize was empty and yearning. Besides, she has a feeling that the desk contains some things she needs to know and understand before attempting magic, but there is a resistance deep down that she isn’t willing to push past just yet.

Kara spends her mornings on the patio soaking in the sun, playing with Cash and Money, and writing. At first, the writing is about her current thoughts and emotions. Then, it morphs into ideas for stories and editorials for CatCo. From there, she starts writing her own stories. Making up tales and inventing new worlds. Writing about two best friends with magical abilities navigating their childhood and teenage years together. By the time she finishes writing each morning, she feels freer than she has in ages. It makes her realize that she wants more from her future than just CatCo and Supergirl. She’s not quite sure what that looks like. At least not yet.

At noon, they meet in the kitchen to make their lunch together. It’s become such a routine now, after a little over a week in the cottage, that they move seamlessly around one another. Each movement anticipated by the other, almost like a dance. They periodically pause to smile or exchange brief kisses until their meals are complete. Most days, they sit on the patio and eat while Cash and Money bask in the warmth of the rays of the sun lying next to them. It’s such a simple and serene existence unlike anything either of them have ever known.

Their afternoons are spent exploring the area around them or sitting with Liam in their den talking about Elizabeth and what she was like. Lena learns so much about her mother. What she liked to do growing up, what kind of shenanigans all the Walsh kids got up to, and pranks they pulled on each other. She even gets to see pictures of her mother when she was younger. Their resemblance to one another is startling. If Lena didn’t know any better, she would think the pictures Liam is showing her are from her own childhood. The days spent listening to Liam are her favorites. It’s in those moments that she feels closest to her mother. Almost like she’s in the room with them. 

The evenings are reserved for the two of them. They make dinner together, dancing around each other much like they do with lunch. Sometimes, they share their meal sitting next to each other at the island counter. Other times, they gather around the coffee table in front of the fire and talk about their mornings or their childhoods or any other topic that comes up. These moments feel like they are forging a path to an inevitable future together. One they’ve both been longing for across every year of their friendship. A future written in some long lost manuscript and scribed into the stars, defying every force that dares stand between them.

On a rainy Thursday afternoon, just after Liam’s departure, they sit quietly lingering in each other’s space snuggled up on the couch in front of the fire. Neither of them feel the need to fill the silence. Kara’s hand is idly drawing nonsensical patterns along Lena’s side as her head rests on the blonde’s shoulder, her own hand tracing the seam on the soft, worn joggers covering Kara’s thigh.

The moment is broken by Lena’s soft whisper. “As a kid, I never dreamed about falling in love. It wasn’t something that made sense to me. The only time I’d known love was with my mother.” She scoffs quietly, not wanting to interrupt the warm cocoon surrounding them. “The Luthor Manor certainly never had an abundance of it, if any at all. That house, the environment I was forced into was cold and lonely. All those years, it was never romantic love that I dreamed about.”

Kara places a soft kiss to the crown of inky raven locks, continuing her ministrations along the soft material resting against her girlfriend’s skin. “It hurts my heart to think of a little Lena experiencing that kind of neglect and heartache. No one deserves to be treated that way. Especially not you.” Another kiss and a long sigh before she quietly asks, “What would you dream of if not of falling in love or romance?”

A dainty shoulder rises and drops in a barely there movement. Lena takes a deep breath and seems to debate her next words. “Acceptance. Friendship. Safety. Even when I was a scared six year old in that monster of a house, I never felt accepted. Lillian never made me feel safe.” She shakes her head slightly, remembering the days before she left for boarding school. “Even when I thought Lex was my only friend in that sterile place, safety was never within my reach.”

“Rao, Lena. It makes sense that you don’t trust anyone easily or let your guard down without a fight. I can’t imagine living like that, especially at such a young age.” Kara sighs, it makes her realize how much worse her betrayal was than she imagined. “The more I learn about you and your past, the more I realize how badly I have hurt you. It’s something I think about every day and will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for.”

She fights the tears that are stinging her eyes and tightens her arm around the CEO’s frame. The guilt that still eats at her insides, the pain and heartbreak she has brought to the woman in her arms is suffocating at times. She often wonders if there is anything she can ever do to make amends for her actions, the betrayal. It’s something she needs to spend more time thinking through and certainly something she plans to talk to her girlfriend about.

“You know, love is a peculiar thing. It’s not really something you choose. At least not at first. That alone makes it terrifying.” Lena says, a tiny hint of a smile in her words. “I know you still feel guilty about what happened, Kara. I know because I feel it too. We both made choices we aren’t proud of. If you think about it, our actions and behaviors make sense given our past. I grew up in a world of cold indifference, manipulation, and betrayal. You grew up in a world that forced you to blend in, hide who you are, and learn to speak in half-truths.”

The dark haired woman leans back, raising her eyes to settle on the pools of ocean blue staring affectionately at her. An unbridled smile stretches across her face. A feeling of pure warmth radiates through her body, seeps into her bones, and settles squarely in her heart. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine this moment. Wish for it? Without a doubt. Hope for it? Sure. Think it would ever be real? Not in a million years. Now that she’s here though, it will have to be pried from her cold, dead hands. 

Kara leans forward to place a soft kiss on Lena’s forehead. They settle back into their positions. “Love is a peculiar thing. It took me a long time to even understand the way love is approached on Earth. It was so different on Krypton.” A long breath out and a shaky inhale as her mind is instantly transported back to her last moments on her home planet. “I think love is rooted in the best of all beings. At least at its core, but I think it also has to be rooted in darkness too. As cliche as it sounds, light and darkness cannot exist without each other. What is that saying? ‘It is in true darkness that we grow to appreciate the light’ or something like that. I think it’s the same for love. It cannot exist without pain and loss.”

They both chuckle at the cliche before Kara continues.

“I do still feel guilty. I think I probably always will to some degree. Forgiveness for the way I treated you and how much I hurt you is still a work in progress. I know you still harbor a lot of guilt too. We’ve both forgiven each other and are working through the remnants of it all, but I think we need to make sure we also focus on forgiving ourselves.” Strong arms gently squeeze Lena in a reassuring  hug. “Our past, our childhood trauma might have put us on the path to what happened, but we have a say in how we move forward. I truly believe we can get through anything together.”

“El Mayarah.” Lena grins and winks at the blonde.

“El Mayarah.” Kara beams back. “Do you ever wonder what could have happened if we had confessed our feelings sooner?”

Lena tilts her head. “Mmm, I used to. I spent a lot of time thinking about it when you were in the Phantom Zone. In a lot of ways, I’m glad things happened the way they have. Selfishly, sure I wish it would have been different. We could have been much further along in our relationship.” She shifts again so their eyes are locked. “Truthfully, I don’t think it would have worked out if it had happened any sooner. Our friendship has been the foundation for where we are now. Without that solid footing, I would have run from it at the first sign of hardship.”

“It makes sense. One of the reasons I refused to let myself acknowledge how I felt about you, even to myself, is I hadn’t told you about Supergirl. Allowing myself to love you with that kind of secret between us wouldn’t have been fair, especially to you.” She huffs in frustration at herself. “After I tried so many different options for telling you and seeing the resulting timelines, I knew facing the consequences was the only way through things. Looking back, it makes sense that Alex commented on changing the timeline for a friendship.” She chuckles before tilting her head back on the cushion.

Lena is frozen in place. Her brain is incessantly replaying what her girlfriend has just said. Over and over. Analyzing. Dissecting. Computing. Not a single thing has resulted from these computations. ‘Seeing the resulting timelines’ is playing on a loop in her head. Is that really what Kara just said? She thinks. There’s no way she misheard it, she replayed it in her head no less than a dozen times. She pushes herself away from the rambling blonde to sit up and ask the question burning in her mind.

“H-Hang on a second.” She stammers, still unsure that she understands what was just said. “I need you to back up and explain some things to me. “What is this about different options, changing timelines, and consequences? You’ve never mentioned anything about that before. When did this happen and how? Why?” She watches as cerulean eyes go wide.

“Um, well, uh…see, there was this fifth dimensional imp named Mr. Mxyzptlk, right? He’s this shorter guy with weird brown hair.” Kara’s panicked eyes scan across Lena’s confused features. “Well, after our…friendship breakup? Um, he came to see me. He owes me because of the time he tried to force me to marry him.” She shakes her head when she thinks back to that fiasco and grimaces when she sees the unimpressed look on Lena’s face. 

“Anyway, that’s a story for another time. He offered me a chance to go back to any point in our past to tell you that I was Supergirl. To change the timeline, to make it ‘right’ or fix it.” Kara glances down to her hands, now fidgeting in her lap. “I tried so many different times in our friendship…the beginning, several points in the middle, so many times. I even tried to see if you would be better off having never met me. That ended badly. In fact, all of them ended badly. One or both of us died each time. Sometimes, all of the people I love were dead. In the end, leaving things the way they are was the only choice. The right one.”

Lena is stunned. She’s unsure what to say. The fact that she means enough to Kara to risk changing the timeline is a lot to take in. Did Kara realize what Alex was saying at the time? Changing the timeline for a friendship wasn’t something that was ‘normal’ unless there was more to it. She’s dragged out of her internal monologue when Kara’s trembling hand rests on hers. Apparently she was subconsciously pulling on her fingers, a nervous habit Lillian always tried to break her from.

She clears her throat and lifts her head back up to see nervous, watery blue gazing back at her. “Y-You tried to alter our timeline? I, hmm, I don’t know what to say. I already knew at that point how I felt about you, but was so hurt and angry at you. Your actions broke me. Truly.” Her eyes drop back down to where Kara’s are still sitting on top of hers. “Why would you try to change our timeline, Kara? By then, you already considered me a villain. Why waste your time?”

The blonde releases a noise from her throat that sounds like a cross between a muffled sob and a strained, wet laugh. “That was actually the night I called you a villain. Something I will always regret.” A single tear makes its way down her cheek as she dejectedly wipes it away. “I think even I have always underestimated how much you mean to me. Being willing to do anything to have you back in my life, or at least have you happy and alive, was the most important thing to me that night. At the end of it all, it was absolutely crystal clear that the only way to make sure you were safe, was to deal with the consequences of my actions, even if it meant you hated me.”

“Well, I have so many questions about all of this, but those can be saved for later.” She leans forward, pressing their lips together before snuggling back into her place on Kara’s shoulder. “As much as I wanted to hate you, I never could. I think that is part of what drove me in my determination to continue with Non Nocere. I desperately wanted to erase the hurt in my chest. A hurt I felt could somehow be erased if I hated you and could prevent anyone else from experiencing the pain I was going through. Looking back, it was naive and unrealistic, but at the time, it was all I could focus on.” She scoffs at her misguided intentions.

“I’ve never been good at processing and handling my emotions. Don’t get me wrong, I have always had a lot of feelings, but growing up as a Luthor, feelings and emotions were viewed as a weakness. Instead of learning how to deal with things in a healthy way, I was raised around people that would exploit any emotion I dared express.” She chuckles, rolling her eyes as she thinks about how foolish and short-sighted she has been in her past. “The way I reacted to your betrayal was extreme. It was extreme because it was the first time that I had let someone see me, the real me, and it blew up in my face. My heart was shattered in a million pieces. In response, I acted like a Luthor and sought revenge. I wanted you to hurt as badly as I did.”

They sit in a heavy silence for a full minute. Both of them comb through the details of their journey, nursing the still barely scarred wounds of loss, betrayal, and a broken heart. 

Kara releases a long, shaky exhale, adjusting herself on the couch and pulling Lena closer. “See, this is where I wish we had at least spoken about things because I was going through the same things. Granted some of it was my own doing, but I was heartbroken and feeling betrayed too. You were the only one to ever see me as Kara. Just Kara. Everyone else treats me differently after they know about Supergirl. Nothing is ever the same anymore.” She blows out a frustrated raspberry, vibrating Lena’s skin. “I didn’t want to lose that with you. I was terrified that when I told you, I would. Unfortunately, I lost you anyway.”

Lena leans up and presses her lips against the warm skin of Kara’s neck. “I think we not only lost each other, but ourselves too. Both of us have endured a lot of pain, sorrow, and loss in our lives. Neither one of us have ever really been shown a healthy way to deal with that.” She sighs, thinking about how much Kelly made her realize she needed to go back to therapy. “While you were in the Phantom Zone, I spent a lot of time with Kelly. She helped me understand why I react to certain things the way I do and how I can be better. One of the first things she recommended was therapy. I’ve had a few appointments already and made arrangements for some phone sessions while we are here.”

“You might be onto something. It wasn’t until I met you and actually started opening up to you that I realized I’ve never been allowed to be myself with anyone. Even Alex to a degree. It was nice that you liked spending time with me, with Kara, and didn’t care what I could do, where I worked, none of that. Just me. That’s all that mattered.” Another tear runs down a tan, freckled cheek. It’s hastily wiped away before she tries to clear the emotion from her throat and continues. “If I’m honest with myself, it’s the main reason I kept chickening out of telling you about Supergril. It’s true that I still wanted to protect you, but it wasn’t the main reason, the one that kept me from saying it.”

She runs her hand up and down Lena’s back. “I’m proud of you, by the way. I know going to therapy isn’t something that you did easily or took lightly. It’s a big step and you should be proud of yourself.” She smiles and lifts the blanket, shifting them both to turn so her back is against the arm, Lena resting softly on top of her. “Alex has been pushing me to see someone too. It’s just hard. The NDA’s that would need to be in place and the effort of finding a therapist that understands what it’s like to be an alien in a human world. It sounds exhausting.” She sighs, nuzzling her nose into the silky raven locks under her nose, the scent of lavender, cedarwood, and something intrinsically Lena gracing her senses. 

Lena pauses for a moment. She hadn’t thought about the logistics of locating a therapist for Kara. It would be most beneficial if the therapist is an alien themselves. Plus, the NDA’s are without question a necessity. She certainly understands the need for NDA’s given her wealth and surname. It’s at that moment she realizes Kara can see the same therapist she does, or at least someone in the same practice. Her therapist is an alien and the practice she runs caters to aliens and clientele who prefer to remain out of the media spotlight.

“Darling, my therapist is an alien and happily signed the NDA’s necessary for me to see them. I can ask them if they would be willing to see you as well or recommend someone else in their practice.” Lena says, with a satisfied smile on her face at being able to offer a solution to her girlfriend. “No pressure, of course, but if you want to explore it, the option is there. I can ask them for more information at our next appointment.” 

“I think that is an acceptable offer, Miss Luthor. I will take any information and consider it.” She grins and tries to stealthily run her hand down her girlfriend’s side to the one ticklish spot she knows. “Now, why don’t we do something a bit more fun? As much as I enjoy our conversations, I could use a little break. Rehashing our falling out feels like a stab in the heart.” She times the end of her sentence with a strategic poke into Lena’s ribs followed by a surprised yelp as the smaller woman launches herself from Kara’s arms.

“Really, Kara?!” Lena glares at her, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. “Just for that, I’m going to start dinner without you. No more cuddles.” She bites her lip and turns with faux irritation to make her way into the kitchen. She can hear Kara sputtering behind her and barely makes it into the kitchen before warm, strong arms are wrapped around her waist. 

“Pleeeease…don’t revoke my cuddle privileges! That’s cruel.” Kara whines into the skin at the back of Lena’s neck. “I’ll help with dinner. Then we can watch a movie or get back to cuddling in front of the fire.” The patented Danvers pout peeks around the side of Lena’s head.

Lena sighs in resignation, knowing she lost this battle. “There really isn’t anything you can help with as far as dinner is concerned, but you can keep me company.” She points at one of the stools at the island and heads toward the pantry to gather her ingredients. “Why don’t you grab one of your notebooks and do some writing or sketching? You said that’s been helping you work through some residual dreams from the Phantom Zone, right?”

The superhero nods and heads toward the journal she’s been keeping next to the bed. She smiles when she thinks about how she hasn’t ever slept in the room that was originally designated as hers when they arrived. It makes her happy that she gets to share a bed with the woman she loves. 

After grabbing the book, she heads back toward the kitchen, but stops in her tracks when she sees Lena swaying to the classical music softly playing in the background. The last rays of the sun, partially obscured by the cloudy sky, cast an ethereal glow onto pale skin and dark locks giving her a glowing aura of orange and pink hues. The sight steals her breath and a rush of all-encompassing love engulfs her body.  

When Lena turns and smiles, her signature eyebrow raise in place, she knows her world is forever changed and for the first time in her life, she cannot wait for the future. In that moment, she is certain that their paths were meant to entwine. There’s no doubt in her entire being that theirs is a fate written amongst the stars and their love is the eternal kind, a bond that cannot be broken. 

[giggles-and-freckles]

Tag Game To Better Know You

I have been tagged in so many things by so many of you lovely people in the midst of my sorta-hiatus and I would break the internet if I tried to catch up...but I like this one because it feels like a good little re-intro into the Tumblr world. :-)

What book are you currently reading?

The Writing Revolution...I can't in good conscience recommend it unless you also happen to find yourself as a teacher trying to capture teenagers' imaginations and get them to produce complete sentences! Hahahaha. Miserable toil.

What’s your favourite movie you saw in theatres this year?

Ooh, this one's easy--The Little Mermaid!! I have seen it with my family twice and then with my friends once. (I felt a little freer to lust after Prince Eric when my husband and two children weren't sitting there with me...)

What do you usually wear?

These days, some form of athleisure. During the school year, I've been told my teacher style is "Jessica Day if she didn't care so much" and...that about sums it up.

How tall are you?

5′5″ AND A HALF (alternatively: taller than @stolen-pen-name23 which is all that truly matters in this world)

What’s your star sign? Do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event?

Cancer...I think? Malala Yousafzai and Henry David Thoreau!

Do you go by your name or a nickname?

Most folks IRL call me Abigail. It's just my brothers, husband, and you guys who call me Abi!

Did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child?

Absolutely not. I wanted to be a lawyer my entire life. My undergrad was pre-law and then life had other plans for me and now I'm teaching 8th grade American History. And LOVING IT. I start grad school in the fall and I'll be getting my Principal's Certification with that, so I suppose I'm in this education world for the long haul.

Are you in a relationship? If not, who is your crush if you have one?

I am tragically married. Sorry to all interested parties!

What’s something you’re good at vs. something you’re bad at?

I'm fairly good with piano and singing. I'm terrible at cooking.

Dogs or cats?

Dogs forever and ever!

If you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favourite picture/favourite line/favourite etc. from something you created this year?

Oh my. I haven't written as much as I'd like to this year (although I'm hoping to post something before the weekend!!) so I'm choosing to interpret this as the last 12 months. Maybe this bit from walking by her side, talking by her side, have pity?

He holds out his hand, wondering if she’ll bare touching him. “Goodbye, Leia.”

She is not a girl of gentleness—this, he can tell. But she accepts the hand like she’s afraid to shatter it. “Goodbye.”

“Saying my name won’t hurt you, you know,” he says, refusing to be the first to let go.

“Remind me?”

He rolls his eyes. “Anakin Skywalker.”

“Skywalker, you said?” she echoes, and lets their hands fall between them. She opens the door and smiles teasingly at him, tilting her head. “Interesting. That was my father’s name.”

What’s something you’d like to create content for?

I think I'm forever stuck in my prequels hell!

What’s something you’re currently obsessed with?

Ur mom. Okay...sorry. Ahem. I've been sewing more lately. I used ot dabble in high school, but I'm finding more motivation to make things for my toddler than I did to make things for myself.

What’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year?

The weather recently! It was supposed to rain the past couple weeks and we've not gotten much more than a few minutes of sprinkling. I looooove rainy days, so that's bummed me out quite a bit.

What’s a hidden talent of yours?

I'm excellent at whistling. It's completely useless, but I'll get compared to a Disney princess occasionally, so I guess that's something.

Are you religious?

Yes. My faith is very important to me, but it's *my* faith, so I don't feel the need to bring it up with strangers unless asked about it. (Crazy concept, right?)

What’s something you wish to have at this moment?

A cuppa tea...so I think I'll go put the kettle on byeeeee

No pressure tags: @pandora15 @stolen-pen-name23 @tessiete @ilonga @kckenobi & anyone who wants to join in the fun!

[funnuraba]

1919: a portrait of changing times. In The Coming of Bill, Wodehouse satirized the subject of eugenics. In this scene, a debutante's brother confronts her about her failure to marry, and is disturbed by her talk of choosing a husband based on their aunt's eugenic theories--not because he's against the principle of "improving the race", but because of the idea of women talking about theoretical future children. It's sometimes hard to tell in Wodehouse's work whether these scenes reflect reality or his own Victorian sensibilities, but generally he's pretty sympathetic to the younger set and their new mores, even if he doesn't want to talk about sex personally. The downside of the whole thing is that he's clearly not skewering the characters' fixation in the white race, either. He simply finds all the skull-measuring silly, and disagrees with the accompanying sterile views on child-reading. Boys, he feels, should be hugged by their parents, and they should be out scrapping with other boys and playing in the dirt, never mind all that sissy stuff about keeping clean and maintaining ideal temperatures. This would come off as pretty sound if he hadn't been ridiculing the idea of sanitizing things in the middle of the Spanish flu pandemic!

Some reviewers call this a dull piece, but I found it very interesting simply because his later work so thoroughly avoided serious topics. You can also see a rare attempt to step into the shoes of a father during the birth of first child--a son, no less. This is something that never happened to Wodehouse himself, and the vast majority of parent-child relationships in his work are a father and adult daughter or step-daughter, from which he could draw from his own life. The characters are his usual archetypes, with little to distinguish them except for being in a more serious story. Mrs Porter is his typical formidable aunt; Kirk his typical hero with a mild but not overwhelming sense of humor; Steve his typical "Say! 'D'jever see the like of this gink!" American roughneck. Bill is very unusual for Wodehouse as a wholesome, positively presented young boy, but since he's four, there's not a great deal to him either.

I did perceive the hint of something deeper in Kirk's frustration with his wife's new habit of going out to society dinner parties that he finds dull and pointless. This is ripped from Wodehouse's real life, with his wife Ethel being the one who enjoyed socializing, while he preferred to stay home and focus on his only real interests: sports, writing, and their Pekingese dogs. Probably he was channeling some of his own pet peeves when Kirk announces that he was perfectly happy living as a hermit, with the three of them--husband, wife and baby--seeing no one at all outside of their own little unit. However, the couple's windfall and fancy new house wouldn't be reflected in Wodehouse's real life for another year or so. It's unlikely that he's accusing Ethel of getting sick of her child, as Kirk does to Ruth.

In The Coming of Bill, as with many of his romances where the female partner dominates the male, there's an uneasiness to the whole thing. Very rarely is it entirely acceptable for matters to proceed as they are; the woman makes use of her power to mistreat the man, sometimes interfering in the life of their child and forbidding them to marry. The man must rise up and assume his proper role, even if only once, in order for the story to have its happy ending. The older married men tend to rebel in little ways, sneaking away from a big party to go to a baseball game, or sneaking money to their beloved stepdaughter by stealing their wife's property. The younger men are freer to reverse the dynamic and make it clear that they're done being bossed around forever.

And still it's treated as a truism in his stories that married men automatically roll over for their wives. Wodehouse clearly preferred to let his wife take the lead socially, but he wasn't fully comfortable letting his male characters do the same and be happy with it. The young men in particular have to fit the hero model by the end of the story.

[drowninginredink]

Hi. Okay. I am about to talk about Shian for a really long time because I have thoughts. And @generaltrashshecox reminded me of them by talking about one of the huge draws to shian, which is that they are not the obvious other half to each other and yet they choose each other anyway. I love that aspect of it, but I'm not talking about that here.

A comparison a million people have made is Ian and Anthony to Shayne and Damien. Shayne as Ian 2.0 and Damien as Anthony 2.0. The idea that Ian and Shayne are the same is what really fascinates me about Shian, because they so are, and they so aren't.

Let's look at that on the most surface level. Ian is the face of Old Smosh and Shayne is the face of New Smosh. They both have carried the company and been the face of it. They both very much are Smosh in some people's eyes. When some people think Smosh, all they picture is Ian; when other people think of it, they just think of Shayne. They both very much have the weigh of this brand and entertainment enterprise on their shoulders. If you want a great case study/exploration of that, please read "drive it like you stole it". Talking to @furry-jackson about that fic is really where all of my Shian thoughts came from. Also God can she fucking write. Everyone should read everything he's written ever.

But. I want to take it a step beyond that. Because yes... the brand has both been on them... but not in the same way. Ian created Smosh with Anthony. Ian is attached to Smosh. We all know that when Anthony left, he asked Ian to come with him and Ian refused to leave this thing they created behind. Ian was the one who saved Smosh when Defy collapsed. Ian was the president of Smosh under Mythical; he's now the co-owner.

Shayne? Shayne is just talent. Well, talent, and a director, and presumably an unofficial writer/producer... but like... he's not in leadership. He has no stake in the company. One thing I think about so much is a single line from this video by Swell Entertainment about being on Reddit Stories. She talks about having a conversation with Shayne about her life as a self-employed YouTuber, and Shayne said he could never do that and he's so glad that working at Smosh means he can do YouTube as a 9-5. Most people with 9-5s are not that invested in them, you know? I mean clearly Shayne cares about Smosh way more than most people care about their jobs, but still... he's just an employee. He does not have the deep-seated ties to it that Ian does. He didn't create it. It's not his. He's just one part of a greater whole.

That's what really fascinates me about Shayne and Ian as a dynamic. Because yes. They are similar in so many ways. They're both very extroverted and yet reserved at the same time in interesting ways. They're figureheads of the company. They're leaders. And there is just a general simpatico vibe between them that I can't quite describe, but you feel it and you can tell that while they're cut from different cloth, they've been sewn into the same pattern. Their general vibes, for all they are different from each other, are also very much the same. But the one key difference between them is that weight. Shayne is fundamentally freer than Ian will ever be, because he did not create the brand, he does not own it, and he's never been more than a really prominent employee.

I've never actually seen anyone explore that. I think the closest I've seen to capturing it was the way @casblueeye wrote Shayne in The Kintsugi Kid. Shayne is a stay-at-home dad in that, and I do think that speaks to the fact that in a lot of ways, he is just along for the ride. He's happy in the role he's fallen into, even if that's not the most important one. I really haven't seen other fic writers capture that side of him that isn't ambitious but is instead just happy with where he is in life right now. I love it, and I think about it so much, and I'd love to see other people write Shayne the way that they did. But that's not a shian fic. I haven't seen anyone do it with Shian.

I am sure I'll eventually find a story beat where I can explore that, but right now I just have not found a shian premise for myself. I've got the dynamic, but there's no actual plot in my head. So since I have nothing to write with it, instead I am screaming about it on here so the rest of you can share my brainworms.

[monstersinthecosmos]

so idk if you've talked about this before but i was thinking about how some of your sheith fics take place in the same sort of headcanon universe where keith and shiro first got together when shiro was actually kuron and ttsr! majorly diverges from that! i love the flavor of both possibilities LOL but i'm just wondering in what ways this timeline difference changes how you view/choose to portray their relationship in each scenario! and i don't think we'll get that far in ttsr! (I'M SCARED TBF) but just in your mind palace i also wonder how you think it plays out when shiro comes back as a clone! does kuron even know they're a thing? does keith notice any differences in how he acts? IS HE FREAKIER AND MEANER IN BED LOL? sorry i feel like i send you so many asks abouy ttsr! BUT I GENUINELY THINK ABOUT IT EVERY DAY LMAO. literally it's the sacred texts!!!!

Fgkjfdlg OMG I haven’t actually talked about this at length before because a lot of people don’t notice or don’t comment on it and I don't think anyone has ever asked! 😊

(This is going to contain some mild spoilers for my fics but THE CLUES ARE ALL THERE if you’ve read them before! Proceed with caution!)

SO YEAH LIKE. Not ALL of my Sheith fics fit these two timelines but I have a few versions of how Sheith hooked up that all live in harmony in my mind so sometimes I draw on these and it’s fun to play with them by adding more at different points in time or from different points of view.

One of them is STAR EATER timeline which started with Star Eater and includes Zero Hour and another fic called The Alternative that I wrote for a zine but I haven’t posted it on AO3 because tbh the zine process upset me so much that I don’t want to look at it anymore to make it AO3 ready lol.

The other is TONIGHT THE STARS REVOLT timeline which includes TTSR -> Minuit -> and the Femsheith fic as we circle the moon which is FEMSHEITH TTSR. (This is the order they were posted in, but chronologically it would be TTSR -> as we circle the moon -> Minuit).

And like, when I first started writing Sheith fic, I’d just spent like 2 years writing VC fic full time, and for the most part I try to keep all my VC fics in the same timeline. Mostly just for fun! It’s become like a creative challenge to me to like keep continuity between fics or hide Easter eggs. So I had written Star Eater as my first Sheith fic and then when I wrote Zero Hour I just thought it would be fun to keep it in the same timeline the way I do with VC. But idk I feel a lot freer writing Sheith than I do VC so it was also inspiring to branch out and not stick to the same formula every time.

Something about Sheith too is there’s SUCH a wealth of fic in the fandom and we’ve read so many hundreds of versions of them as a couple and how they got together and everything and like, you gotta understand that I have like 100 fic ideas on deck at all times and I know I don’t have time to write all of them, so I tend to like weed out ideas to prioritize and budget time for if I think I can say something interesting and maybe subvert some of the common fandom tropes. So yes sure, Sheith are soulmates, yada yada, but WHAT IF THEY WERE FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS AND IT WAS AWKWARD ! Or WHAT IF SHIRO NEVER MADE A MOVE UNTIL IT WAS KURON DRIVING BECAUSE KURON WAS LESS INHIBITIED? Listen I’m a slut for angst, too, so like. I’m not really good at writing fluff and it’s not my first choice as a reader, either, so I wanna ask, like sure yada yada soulmates but what if it hurt, or what if it was messy? How can we make this dark and fucked up? Lol

So these two premises are like, places I’ve put a lot of thought, and I think a lot about how that affects their relationship long term and what it says about them. And I think they offer a different flavor, so when I have an idea or I’m in a certain mood, sometimes I think “this would be really nice in whichever timeline.” And a few of my fics they hook up after the war, too! So it really depends like what flavor I’m going for that day and how badly I want to traumatize Keith LOL

But for example, like, TTSR was born in my brain as like misc smut prompts but I thought “It would be subversive if they were FWB" because at the time I never saw canonverse fics where they were FWB, I’d only seen it in AUs. And then when I wrote Minuit it was for the prompt party and my prompt was about Keith nursing Shiro to health after he gets his body back, and I WANTED it to be crampy and uncomfortable and awkward, and I WANTED Shiro to feel guilty and self conscious, and so I thought setting it in TTSR timeline would add to it because it adds that element of like, IS THIS TOO INTIMATE? IS IT TOO SERIOUS? It also includes some flashbacks to when Kuron first shows up, and how he and Keith navigated being around each other, but his memory is sort of fuzzy and he’s disoriented.

I REALLY love thinking about the sort of like, dubcon aspects of Keith fucking Kuron, too, because neither of them are truuuuuuuly consenting. Keithisn't fucking the person he thinks he's fucking, and later on Shiro is bound to be kinda violated knowing that his identity was stolen for it. And would Kuron want to fuck Keith if the Galra wasn't telling him to? I also like the idea that Kuron is not a perfect copy, and maybe he’s bolder, maybe he’s more aggressive, etc. So maybe he did make moves that Shiro didn’t, and Shiro comes back and can’t believe what went on while he was gone. In Star Eater universe it’s sex and in TTSR universe it’s the ilu confession. It's quite violating to everyone involved!

And in both universes I’ve tried to float the idea that Keith could tell something was wrong, or different, but he just assumed it was The Trauma ™. Like Shiro comes back a little bit off, he’s getting migraines, and Keith GETS IT. Keith has also (canonically) made Shiro’s safety his own responsibility, so I wonder if he feels so guilty that he fucked up that he’s not going to push on it. In Zero Hour this takes the shape of Keith not wanting to talk about Kuron at all to real Shiro because he feels so fucking embarrassed that he didn’t notice, and in as we circle the moon (s)he’s struggling the entire time trying to figure out if Shiro needs space to get better or if this is going to be the new normal and how tough the love should be.

One of the reasons re: Kuron why I decided I wanted a clean slate after Zero Hour too is that I kind of regretted the way I interpreted the Kuron lore when I wrote Zero Hour; canon is a little bit unclear about how it works and whether or not Kuron is “dead” or gone from the body. I decided afterwards that I liked the idea of them having to share the space and sort of integrating with each other, which is why I wrote it differently in Minuit. In Star Eater timeline, Kuron’s entire personality is basically AI programmed on what the Galra could map of Shiro’s brain, and WITHOUT GETTING INTO JUNK SCIENCE EXCUSES FOR THE WHY, I just thought maybe it might leave sort of “impressions” in the body, which is why Shiro can sense residual, disjointed memories. I imagined these things like imprints or phantom sensation in his brain, perhaps in the vein of epigenetic trauma.

But in TTSR/Minuit timeline, Shiro is in there WITH HIM and it’s a matter of trying to cooperate who’s in the driver’s seat. I haven’t written this further but I imagine that Real Shiro will one day simply become New Shiro which is him and Kuron sort of integrated as one person; this is why I wrote the scene about him dreaming about a cherished childhood memory except that he’s inserted a twin into it. He will learn to share and accept that Kuron has all his same memories and his own soul, whatever that means.

AND TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS LOL SORRY FOR MEANDERING but I do imagine Kuron being freakier and meaner LOL. Is this grounded in canon or am I making excuses to be kinky? Reader’s choice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can justify it by, again, asking if the Galra made an imperfect copy. Because like he IS different! The show communicates this to us by the subtle changes to his character design. And I think about like, the Galra designing him and programming him for a purpose, which is GET CLOSE TO THE RED PALADIN, and I wonder how that might push him in areas where Shiro would’ve been more reserved.

And like what might the Galra get wrong about human psychology and American culture? WHAT ARE GALRA MATING RITUALS? As the BIG BADDIES of canon they come off as being aggressors—even Lotor, who believed he was acting for a greater good, was committing atrocities LOL—so how does that change when they try to build a human personality and human intention? WHAT IF IT’S LIKE JURASSIC PARK WHERE THEY PATCH DNA GAPS WITH GALRA SO KURON IS LIKE AN ALPHA OR SOMETHING HAHA. But no really like what if he’s more virile, what if he’s more confident, what if everything he does is based on some soul-crushing subconscious instinct to BE CLOSE TO KEITH at any cost!!!

These ideas take many forms in my mind, which is why I need multiple versions with multiple answers LOL.

But TTSR Kuron knows they’re a thing, because I think the Galra were sort of downloading/studying Shiro’s consciousness through his arm the entire time he was alive, right? So up until the very end he’d have Shiro’s memories. He will know they hooked up, and he will know how Shiro felt about it. In as we circle the moon (s)he breaks the ILU to Keith in the pilot’s log because she thinks she’s dying and her entire soul is crushed that she never saw her relationship with Keith through, not just for the half of her that shares Shiro’s feelings but also the other half that exists solely to get to Keith.

Star Eater Kuron knows that Shiro has been pining for a while and is the one who is brave enough to make a move!

ANYWAY THIS WAS QUITE LONG AND RAMBLING but I hope I answered your questions LOL.

I think TTSR exists as a trilogy in my mind, and I hope that the huge gaps between updates don’t leave anyone DYING because I’m going to follow canon so there's not a huge mystery where it will go. You can also get an idea of where they’re going by stitching clues together from the other fics. I have no idea if or when I’ll find time to WRITE A WHOLE TRILOGY (please just let me finish TTSR first LMFAO) but I always imagined TTSR ending around when Shiro dies, the middle fic being about Kuron, and the third as the post-S7 story that I have to make up myself because I don’t accept S8 LOL.

MAKE OF THAT WHAT YOU WILL but that’s basically the questions I ask about these guys and how it informs where fics go and if I’m in one mood or another or think one timeline or the other will serve a story I want to tell, I’ll set it there!

and OMG don't apologize for sending Sheith asks, I think all this stuff is like bursting at the seams of my brain and I'm always happy to yell about it!!!

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

May I request "Hacerte Mía" for Peter, Dagger, or even Finny (whichever you prefer bc I love them all) where fem s/o is teaching them to dance bachata? I know this wasn't in your list, but I love the song and the boys.

ah it's totally cool that it wasn't in the meme; always open to songfics regardless!

I did Peter; I hope I did ok!

DISCLAIMER: This is a songfic to the song “Hacerte Mía” by Jr.! I don’t own the song, don’t claim to, and am not profiting off this piece at all.

Cuánto quisiera decirte te quiero y confesarte que te quiero amar poder quitarme de encima este miedo y así por fin yo te pudiera hablar porque cansado estoy de besarte en sueños y levantarme con la triste verdad que soy inútil porque no corro el riesgo de convertir un sueño en realidad

Can anyone blame (Name) for wanting to dance with PETER?

There has to be some rhythm in that little body of his, somewhere. Nobody can hold it against her for wanting to draw it out and see him get a little freer. Besides, this particular dance is something she wants to share with him, because she loves him.

It’s a bit tricky given the difference in their sizes, but she’s doing her best to get him to cheer up in the process. Maybe he’s terribly grumpy about ‘having’ to do it; she’s almost positive that his resistance is coming from insecurity. If she can just show him that there’s no reason to be insecure, that she wants him just as he is, hopefully he can relax.

Her hands grip tightly to his, and she moves much more smoothly than he does simply because this is a style she’s been familiar with for her whole life. Feeling the music is effortless to her. (She thinks if Peter would let himself go with the flow, it would be effortless for him too.)

“Come on,” she laughs, rolling her shoulders and hips as she tries to guide him in the next steps. “Don’t you want to do this with me?”

y cuando te acercas mi voz se aquieta mis manos tiemblan yo pierdo todo el control quiero agarrarte y entregarte todo mi corazón y hacerte mía y solo mía y solo mía I wanna make you mine, girl Jr.

He scoffs, holding fast to her hands. “Oi, course I do, church-bell! I jus’ don’t know ‘ow t’ move like this ‘n’ shite… y’re too fast!”

She chuckles. “Well, this style of dancing is fast! It’s supposed to be passionate and uninhibited. What’s got you holding back, my love?”

“Oiiii, it ain’t funny!” he huffs. He does his best to follow her movements, although it’s pretty clear he’s slower than she is. As far as she’s concerned, that’s just fine… it’s adorable to watch him trying so hard. He’s putting forth a lot of effort just for her sake, so she’ll be happy and fulfilled sharing this with him. “I ain’t ‘oldin’ back, it’s jus’…”

His face turns pink even as he continues to move with the music. All in all, he’s actually getting a little better at it the longer he does it. “… This is important t’ y’, ‘ey? I don’t want y’ t’ think I’m bad at it. But dammit, I ain’t a good dancer! I got three bloody left feet ‘ere! Why y’ makin’ me do this? Jus’ t’ laugh at me?!”

Hm. Well, the answer to that is definitely no. However… she can’t deny that he’s cute when he gets so worked up. Especially when he really doesn’t need to be so worked up.

Doesn’t he understand… all she wants is to spend time with him?

porque cansado estoy de besarte en sueños y levantarme con la triste verdad que soy inútil porque no cogió riesgo de convertir un sueño en realidad y cuando te acercas mi voz se aquieta mis manos tiemblan yo pierdo todo el control

“Of course not! Don’t be silly, tesoro.” She leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, and pulls him along in another step. This time she tugs him closer to her, arms around his neck. “Doesn’t it just feel so good to be with each other like this? To surrender yourself to your feelings and the music?”

At first he tries to squirm away, if only because he’s starting to laugh at the way she’s worded it. “Wot?? Y’re talkin’ loony now, c’mon! Wot’s the point’a doin’ that?”

She untangles her fingers from his to press her hand against his chest. His heart is beating, just like hers, fast-paced and excited. “You tell me, my dear. Your heart is beating to the rhythm of love. It’s a thrill, isn’t it? I feel it, too.”

Peter’s face flushes at her touch. As it stands, he’s not usually too flustered by being touched… but in this instance, it looks like (Name) has gotten more of a reaction than usual. That must mean he can feel it. “O-oi, precious, wot are y’…”

“Shhh. Listen to it.” She drums her fingers against his chest. “Do you hear what it says?”

His breath catches when she comes in for a kiss, and whispers it against his lips.

“‘Only mine’… you’re all mine, tesoro.”

quiero agarrarte y entregarte todo mi corazón y hacerte mía y solo mía y solo mía y solo mía y solo mía

[teecupangel]

Submitted by @fanworldbuildingfun

Hello there. I have had this little idea rattling through my brain

A Desmond who has recently run away from his home but have not yet found a place for himself in the wide open world. And – he ends up in Turin, for a while. Going at saving up some money to move further

But – he is still young. Getting a job is one thing, but finding a place to stay that wouldn’t bleed his savings out has been harder. Even more so, if he was looking for a place that wasn’t 50 types of shady

One of his freer days, he ends up stumbling across a small cave. Kind of like the ones we have to push through in new game trilogy. A vertical crack, really. And with nothing better to do, he decides to explore it

The place this crack leads to? The Grand Temple. An earthquake caused that crack to appear, and another one would have originally closed it a year or two later. And while there are no power sourced, here, to activate the temple en large… We do have Origins with its silica that can be found right in the temple, as an example of small-scale power source

It’s a pure stroke of luck, but Desmond manages to activate a small, small section of the Temple. Not enough to draw Juno’s attention. But enough to make it – a place to live? To explore? Maybe managing to somehow to connect to the place with modern tech – again, on pure stroke of luck because who know that sticking a cord to that one spot in the platform that kind of looked like a jack, would work?

Eventually, say, in a year, Desmond has to move on. But in that year? Desmond learns just a little bit too much to not be noticeable as he goes on. Imagine it like the result of regular late-night Google binging. He’d just look up one thing, that leads to another, then to another

Odd things to include:

Desmond could use touchscreen tech straight off once it popped up. Better than anyone else who knew him. Also tended to complain about it being slow

Casually correcting someone in the bar and getting into a deep discussion about some Niche@TM branch of science that was a rabbit hole Desmond spent some time looking through in Temple

Odd preferences in lighting

Tron: Legacy premiere left Desmond with an intense feeling of Déjà vu (the movie aired in 2010)

Desmond probably did not have the intended reaction to Animus

=============================

Additions from teecup:

All this google would totally lead him to be a regular on a lot of conspiracy theory boards. The idea of ancient aliens are the premise of myths and legends will make him have a ‘you annoy me but you give me the weirdest and most interesting questions’ relationship with one of the regular users there (who turns out to be a bespectacled man we all know).

Instead of a cord, maybe the glowly lines recharge his equipment or something like some kind of wireless charging ports XD

All of Desmond’s exploring made him find the thing that makes the ‘ambrosia’ that taste like cardboard. Still, it’s free and he feels full just eating one bar so, even if it’s possible that it’s not all that safe, he still uses it so he wouldn’t have to budget for food. Depending on how big we want the dispenser to be, if it’s small enough, Desmond could haul it out of the Grand Temple when he leaves because ain’t no way he’s gonna let go of that bad boy. Buying food and cooking becomes more like a treat for Desmond. (He also learned how to add seasoning to the Ambrosia so it tastes like… well… seasoned cardboard)

It would be funny if Desmond found the Isu equivalent to a 3D printer and, while the crack isn’t big enough for Desmond to take out say the motorcycle of his dream that is absolutely more scifi than anything out in the market today, he could use it to print really good forgeries like a birth certificate, documents required by school registrars… maybe even money?

In the end, Desmond’s fiddling with Isu tech made him too interested in technology in general and he tried out engineering and computer software classes, half just pretending he was supposed to be there and half actually giving forged documents too good to be found out by current tech and experts. Maybe he even becomes friends with two certain blondes who have issues of their own although he doesn’t stay that long but he definitely made an impact on the two of them.

And with his Frankenstein knowledge of both Isu tech, googling and the few classes he took in various colleges while he does his city-hopping just to be sure no one from his parent’s cult finds him, he starts to be a regular in tech and machinery chatrooms, becoming friends with a certain black-haired young woman who has the weirdest but most interesting ideas that made Desmond’s mind go ‘ooohhh, but what if…’

In the end of all of these, it’s not Abstergo who finds him first.

Nor is it the Assassins.

No.

The first ones to make contact with him and asked if he wanted to fuck society up?

Erudito.

[e-the-village-cryptid]

I want to see bix and cinta cross paths so bad. they each have something to share that the other really needs to hear and I think it would be such an interesting dynamic.

it would make sense when everyone is regrouping at gangi moon for someone to ask cinta “hey so we know you’re probably heading out to do more rebellion stuff soon but you’re the only medic around and bix desperately needs some medical attention could you please help”

so then cinta and bix wind up spending some time together and it really starts to sink in for cinta what the empire does to people, not just on the broad scale she focuses on, but on a very personal level. she hears from bix about just how many people she has lost to imperial tyranny and so cinta starts to think a bit more about treasuring those relationships she still has, that the whole reason she is fighting this fight is so that people— individual, human people— can live freer and better lives. cinta starts catching glimpses of that ferrix culture that is so deeply ingrained in bix— that no matter what, you look out for your people, you care for them, you live as a community and you have your neighbor’s back— and it moves something in her. she starts to hold on a bit tighter to vel and others she loves, and see the rebellion in terms of humanity and not merely war.

meanwhile, as bix begins to heal, she draws on cinta’s strength, fearlessness, and conviction. she begins to see in cinta’s hardness a means to protect herself, and starts to emulate it to some extent. she feels for the first time a desire to fight the empire head-on, to become a true rebel. she sees the way that cinta can simply place her fear to the side and move on without it, and she admires it— some days, she sees learning to do that as the only way she could move forward. she gains back a sense of agency, she believes for the first time that she really could deal blows against the empire, and she wants to fight to take back ferrix from imperial control and return to her home. when she has healed enough, she joins the rebellion in full to do just that.