#Or at least be warped beyond recognition

[drumlincountry]

If the entire internet went dark tomorrow, what would you lose? What would you lose that you can't afford to lose? How do you save it?

[biteitwhenitssoft]

"I was born down here and I'll die down here. Happy?" Babygirl don't say that

[absolutepokemontrash]

Prideful Creature

A newly fallen Lucifer has some thoughts…

Masterlist

Warnings: alcohol (Demonus)

••••••••••••••••••••••••

Lucifer Morningstar was a prideful creature.

His wings? All six were positively perfect.

His appearance? Without question, handsome.

His power? Enviable.

His family? Divine. Literally.

Anyone could look at Lucifer and go green with envy, he was one of his father’s perfect creations, a shining star, a light of the celestial realm, but oh…

From such a high pedestal, it was a long way to fall.

…

Lucifer Morningstar was a prideful creature. The humans knew this. Maybe that was why they warped his story to be one of hubris.

It was a wonderful tale, Lucifer had to admit. One of his father’s most dazzling creations turning against Him because Lucifer believed he could do better than his creator? Fantastic. Even more, Lucifer then orchestrated the downfall of his father’s favourite humans… What wicked revenge.

But still, no amount of revenge could quell the pain that swirled in Lucifer’s chest as he poured himself another glass of Demonus.

It probably wasn’t a good idea to be drinking the stuff, especially since it was his turn to watch Satan, and he was the only one who did it right anyway… but still, Lucifer had many sorrows to drown.

His wings? Blackened and burnt, his six had been whittled down to four out of an act of his own rage.

His appearance? Lucifer looked at his reflection in his wine glass as he swirled the Demonus inside. He looked like shit.

His power? Still enviable, Lucifer had to admit, he was one of the most powerful creatures in the Devildom but he wasn’t free to use his power as he pleased. He was on a leash now, a leash held by the most powerful creature in the Devildom…

His family?

…

Lucifer gripped the glass tighter, before downing its contents and refilling it.

Broken.

The bottle had been emptied. Lucifer wound back his arm and threw it.

As it shattered against the opposite wall of his office, Lucifer blearily rubbed at his eyes.

The bottle could be glued back together.

A smile cracked across Lucifer’s features, wide, almost uncanny in its appearance. His new fangs weren’t helping matters either as he caught a glimpse of what he looked like in the reflection of his window as he leaned back in his seat.

Lucifer began to laugh.

It was a low rumble at first, then a shallow, hoarse, wheeze, then- complete and utter hysteria.

The bottle was less broken than his family! At least he could pick up the pieces of the bottle!

Lucifer’s laughter had become almost painful as he clutched his ribs and doubled over. The more he tried to quell the laughter, the more it made his sides and chest ache.

He could glue the bottle back together! He had thrown the bottle with all his power, and yet, he could get every piece!

Tears rolled down Lucifer’s reddening face as he continued to laugh, dragging a gloved hand down his face.

It would take a while, but he could get every bit of glass off the hardwood, even the bits that ended up hidden in the carpet! He could get every single one! Of course he could, he was the Avatar of Pride, the best of the best! He should be able to do anything! Anything! If he can’t do everything what good is he?!

The laughter stopped abruptly, but the shudders that wracked Lucifer’s frame didn’t stop. They had morphed into massive, heaving sobs. Lucifer covered his mouth and hunched forward, his bloodshot eyes wide as his tears rolled down his face.

He had thrown the bottle with all his strength. It was broken. He could theoretically fix it because all the pieces were still there.

He couldn’t do the same with his family.

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer wiped at his face for a final time. He had cried enough to fill a river in these last few months. He sat up straight in his seat and went back to work.

The pieces of his family had warped and changed beyond recognition.

Asmodeus had lost most of that friendly sparkle in his eye when he flirted and bantered with his friends. His eyes had darkened with something different, a sin he had grown far too comfortable with. Asmo only wanted pleasure out of others now, and if he didn’t get it, he’d throw them away.

Beelzebub wouldn’t stop eating.

“Don’t eat your feelings,” Lucifer had once advised him what felt like so… so long ago.

He wasn’t following that advice.

Mammon’s penchant for trouble had only worsened. Lucifer had dragged him out of trouble more times that month than the entire time they spent in the celestial realm together. Lucifer wanted to be patient with him, his brother was hurting and acting out, but father above his patience was growing thinner by the day.

Leviathan wouldn’t leave his room. His eyes were like glass. Lucifer wondered if that was just a side effect of his new, demonic appearance, or if it was long-term shellshock still rocking him to his core.

And the baby, Satan, was a demon, through and through. He bit, he scratched, he’d scream like something that crawled out of the Styx. Lucifer knew it probably wasn’t the baby’s fault, it… was a baby, they did things like cry, but all Lucifer could really see when he looked at him was a reminder. A grim reminder of the wings he tore clean off his back.

Belphegor, he-

Lucifer felt his pen slip through his fingers. He didn’t hear it clatter to the ground.

…when did he get so angry..?

Belphie had always been mischevious, he had a sneaky little smile that Lucifer absolutely adored, but that mischief had never been so… malicious.

The new Avatar of Sloth was mad- no. That was far too simple a term. The Avatar of Sloth was enraged at humanity.

When he wasn’t sleeping, he’d beg Lucifer to take him to the human world, terrorise the mortals with nightmares and sleep paralysis so profound, the humans afflicted might never wake up…

Sometimes Lucifer indulged him.

When did Lucifer get so angry..?

Maybe Belphie had the right idea. It was easier to be angry at something you could actually punish.

Even if Lucifer sat down and tried to glue the pieces of his family back together, who’s to say it would be the same as it had been before? Would it still be the picturesque, idyllic scene it had been for so many years before…

No. Of course it wouldn’t. Some pieces were missing.

The demon rolled his shoulders, trying to muscle through the shudder that wracked his frame at the thought of Simeon, Michael, Raphael, the others that didn’t fall with him…

Lucifer looked up at the ceiling of his office, eyes following the shadows of the dazzling lights overhead.

Lucifer was a prideful creature. Everyone knew that. But at that moment…

He had nothing to be proud of.

…

Lucifer had no affection for humans if he was being totally honest.

They died awfully quickly, and even when he’d stop and get to know one, their goals matched their pitifully short lifespans.

But there was one thing Lucifer appreciated about them. Humans were prideful creatures, just like him.

It was cute in a way, how such a tiny mortal creature could hold themselves in such high esteem. But his musings on humanity as a whole weren’t of any concern at the moment, not with the… “exchange students” visiting.

One was staying with him and his brothers, Lucifer had internally groaned when he heard the news from Diavolo.

Ugh, it’d be like keeping alive a hamster, those things always died in the most ridiculous of ways.

Shaking off that thought, Lucifer tapped his pen against his lips as he looked over his class notes.

He didn’t really need to attend class, his status as a student at RAD was mostly a formality, but if he showed up to a class at all, he was going to ace it. His pride wouldn’t allow otherwise.

And maybe it was that same pride that stopped him from admitting his interest in the human.

The human that had been brought down was odd. They didn’t seem all that… afraid of him. Perhaps it knew how insignificant and short it’s life was going to be, so it didn’t really care that Lucifer had enough power in a backhand to end it there and then.

But then again… the human didn’t exactly seem to want to die all that much either. While its actions portrayed an idiot who danced far too close to danger for many people’s liking, the thoughts behind those actions were very intriguing.

“I wanted a pact with your brother!” The human had said without a hint of fear in its expression. Levi had almost killed it, and this was its explanation for the chain of events that led to that?!

…weird.

Very weird.

…

Lucifer was a prideful creature. He knew that knowledge was power, and he chafed at the idea that someone was more powerful than he.

He had asked the human a question.

“Why?”

A very loaded question. The human smiled.

“I like you and your brothers, I want to help you.”

They had managed to make pacts with six of the seven of them.

Belphie had made a pact with them.

“That’s not a very good answer.”

“It wasn’t a very detailed question.”

The human’s eyes glinted with amusement, leaning back on the living room couch they were sitting on.

Lucifer stiffened in place. He could sit down but… no. He’d rather stand.

“Fine then,” Lucifer replied, crossing his arms and raising a brow. “Why do you insist on meddling in our lives despite how we’ve treated you? Where in the human world did you find the audacity?”

The human snorted, covering their mouth to muffle their laughter.

“I think I was born with the audacity, but as for the other stuff…” the human trailed off. “I dunno. I’m a busybody like that I guess. Besides, are you complaining?”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but he finds that no words come out. Was he complaining?

“…I haven’t decided yet.”

“Have you decided on whether or not you’re going to sit next to me?”

Stiffening again, the demon found himself moving. He briskly walked around the couch and sat himself down next to the human.

“So,” a playful smirk danced on the human’s face. “When do you think you’re going to get back to me on your decision?”

“What?”

“On whether or not I bother you!”

“Oh,” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “You bother me, you bother me so much.”

The human laughed again.

Lucifer found himself enjoying the sound.

…

Lucifer was a prideful creature. Maybe- no- that was definitely what held him back from asking the human for a pact before the end of the year.

The human had done the impossible.

The human had fixed Lucifer’s broken family.

Maybe “fixed” wasn’t the right word…

Lucifer’s relationship with Simeon was still… different. There was a familial familiarity still there of course, but there was a strange distance between the two. Lucifer wondered if it’d ever be the same again. Did he even want it to be the same again? Or was it too late?

The relationships between Lucifer and his brothers weren’t the same either, they had been through so much together over the hundreds of years they spent as demons, and almost just as much in the single year of the exchange program. It was different but… not bad.

And there had been new pieces added to the mix. Diavolo felt less like a boss and more like a… companion. A friend. Now that Lucifer’s greatest shame had been aired out to his family, his resentment was subsiding. He found himself wanting to be around the Demon Prince more and more, see him smile, see his dream come to fruition because of more than just Lucifer’s duty as his right hand.

And of course, with Diavolo came Barbatos. The butler was always a figure of mystery, and Lucifer could only assume it’d stay that way for a very… very long time.

Despite Lucifer’s best efforts, the human sorcerer Solomon had… grown on him. Like a tumour that would eventually kill him. But it wasn’t only malignant tumours that seemed to have grown on Lucifer.

He had always been a dog person, so he supposed he had developed a brotherly soft spot for the little yapping chihuahua. Lucifer often found himself smiling whenever he heard the little angel’s voice echoing through the halls, calling for the human.

And finally, the human. They had taken scattered, broken pieces and formed something similar, but new all the same.

A new… family, if you will.

Lucifer was a prideful creature. The human knew that. Maybe that was why they asked him for a pact rather than waiting for him to ask.

They knew he longed to be a part of the new family too.

———————

Author’s Note

I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE

Soooo, we’ve got a lot to catch up on, don’t we? What have y’all missed- uhhhhhh- well I went through a very shitty depressive episode last summer which is why I couldn’t write-

During that same summer, my job went on strike, which was a fucking adventure.

The following semester, I was absolutely swamped with work and couldn’t bring myself to write much, and then during the winter semester, my school fucking went on strike-

So in better news, I’m dating someone now because I’m incredibly suave and romantic. Talk to your favourite fic writers off anon, people, you might end up dating them someday. Anyway- I also got really into DND, I’m a DM now! Right now I’m running a Percy Jackson mini campaign for some friends I met through the fandom, and I’m having a gay old time torturing having fun with my dear players.

And before anyone else does it:

Hotel? Trivago.

(Thanks for reading!!)

[trellia]

"How do you know this? Who are you?! Answer me!"

The demoness looked Sub-Zero with serenity but also soft recognition. This Sareena was not the one he knew about; a blood thirsty demon beneath Quan Chi's heal

-no - this one was very aware, and emitted a calming aura, yet Bi-Han felt on the verge of panic. Panic because despite all, he recognized those eyes. He recognized who she was... but no memory formed beyond warped imagination. Fingers dug into her shoulders - she said: "You helped me break my chains. Now I will return the favor."

————————-

Still struggling with a creativity block, but at least I'm doing something about it and still putting some things out there lol Soooo MKX Sareena and MK1 Bi-Han reunion when? owo

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Of Memory and Brotherhood

Who likes angst with a side of Kaeya and Diluc reconciliation? Me! Who likes being an absolute bitch to her favorite characters? Also me. So have another fic that is pretty much just those two things.

Summary: Kaeya has a nightmare--no, an inherited memory of Khaenri'ah's fall. Diluc is there to help pick up the pieces

CW: Heavy angst, intense imagery, panic attacks, angst with a happy ending

Word count: 1490

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Kaeya walks through familiar-unfamiliar city streets. All around him are the tell tale signs of a civilization crumbling.

Soaring buildings, truly magnificent in construction, are torn down. Chunks of stone, pieces of metal warped beyond all recognition, are strewn across once smooth roads.

In between bits of rubble, there are bodies. Bodies of dark creatures, like the rift hounds that have recently begun to appear in Mondstadt, and bodies of people. Women, children, some crushed by the homes that once housed them, others mauled, sometimes beyond recognition.

It’s a familiar sight.

Once, it was a scene that frequently occupied his sleeping moments. His father--the first to leave him--had explained it as a generational memory, so that the last of their nation “would never forget how they fell.”

The elder Alberich had comforted his son, empathized. He too often saw Khaenri’ah fall. Such was their lot, he said.

Of course, then Kaeya was left behind and learned to suffer in silence. Granted, as a pre-teen, the dreams had a softer, blurry quality. Shelter for the innocent, he figures now.

Then he met Albedo, who had found a way to drive the dreams away.

Yet, now, he finds himself amidst his ancestor’s homeland, the memory now crystal clear.

Far in the distance he hears a child crying for her mother. Even further away, there are still sounds of combat. The soldiers of the nation do their duty, unwavering. Not unlike a certain red-head.

Yet, for all that he sees and all that he hears, he is a phantom in the world. Not long after appearing in this memory, he had tried to help a young woman who was bleeding on the street. She did not see him. She did not hear him. She was but a memory, one he was forced to see die alone.

Kaeya moves further into the center of the city, towards a golden palace and black tower that stands beside it.

Before he can reach it though, a sound like a hundred peals of thunder and the ringing of a gong, overlaid with the mournful melody of a lyre--a ringing requiem of power. 

Six--no seven--figure float above the city. One is a man, tall and stern. Another is a fair lady wreathed in violet lightning. And a third is a familiar face from his life in Mondstadt. Venti the Bard. Or perhaps he should say, Barbatos.

Kaeya pauses in the middle of the road and watches the divine figures. He watches as they pronounce judgment and shatter the city. As the city breaks and a nation cries out, backed by the pained song of the archon’s power, Kaeya is thrown back into his body.

Kaeya wakes and reaches for his vision.

He has to get out. Out, out, out. Away from Mondstadt City, away from the confinements of his room. 

He needs air. The wind. Somewhere else. Somewhere that could never be mistaken for the underground nation without a god.

Diluc stands underneath the great boughs of Vennessa’s Tree, taking a brief break from his patrol.

Despite the rumors of abyss mages in the area, he’s seen nothing so far. Not that that’s a bad thing, but vigilance never hurts.

At least under Vennessa’s tree, a place that is realistically holier than the Cathedral, there is safety. Safety and peace.

Or so he thought. A few minutes into his break a flash of white under the waning moon catches his eye.

Diluc takes a few steps towards the figure, squinting to make out more detail.

When he identifies the person his brows furrow. There’s no mistaking the tanned skin and dark hair or the scar crossing the man’s right eye.

Kaeya, of all people, is out in the middle of the night, shirtless and shoeless. If anything, it looks like he jumped out of bed, grabbed his vision and went for a run. Odd, because when Kaeya left the Angel’s Share earlier, he was most definitely inebriated.

It doesn’t take long for Kaeya to come close enough for Diluc to make out his expression. It’s one he’s never seen on the Cavalry Captain, not even in those painful days after his father’s death. The panic that has his breath coming in heaving gasps is contrasted by an eerie emptiness.

“Kaeya?” Diluc calls out softly.

Kaeya gives no sign of having heard him. Instead he trips on a rock, landing on his hands and knees. 

When he doesn’t get up, Diluc goes to kneel next to him. A glance at Kaeya’s feet reveals bloody soles. 

“Kaeya. Look at me.”

Once again Kaeya doesn’t register his voice.

“Kae.” Diluc’s voice is sharper, this time as his heart clenches in his chest.

He reaches out to touch Kaeya’s shoulder, only to be knocked backwards when his little brother latches on to him.

Diluc freezes. What do I do? Kaeya doesn't know it’s me. He can���t. He’s not in his right mind. What the hell happened to him? How do I help? Wait… why do I want to help? Archon’s wh--

The scarlet-haired man shakes his head and looks down at the man wrapping his arms around his waist, only to find Kaeya crying.

Archons what a mess.

Diluc gathers Kaeya into his arms and carries him to the tree, where he arranges them comfortably.

Kaeya continues to sob silently into his chest, limbs shaking with suppressed  emotion.

“Kae, I know you don’t like me all that much--and I really don’t like you--but you don’t have to hide from me. Let it out.”

Diluc’s assurances are all Kaeya needs to break. He can’t help but be glad that they’re at Windrise in the middle of the night, where no one can see the weakness in their Cavalry Captain.

After a while Kaeya’s tears stop and a semblance of self returns to his eyes, though none of the edge or the sass that is typical of him. Rather, it’s grief and horror that settles on his face.

“Kae, what happened?” Diluc asks when he’s more certain that he’ll be answered.

Of course, he isn’t.

Kaeya just pulls away and wraps his arms around his knees.

“Kaeya, you’re out here. I’m out here. Talk to me.”

“Why? You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. You’re a liar, but I don’t hate you. As much as I don’t like saying so sometimes, we’re still brothers. I’m trying to act like it for once, so let me damn it.

“I---” Kaeya pauses, giving Diluc a bewildered look. “I haven’t had Albedo make a new dose of the medication I use to prevent dreams. I tried to drink enough to prevent them but---”

“It didn’t work.”

“No.”

“Will you tell me about it? Sometimes, when I dream about Father’s death, talking to Adelinde helps.”

Kaeya’s eyes widen. Whether at the admission or the offer, Diluc isn’t quite certain.

“The remnants of Khaenri’ah are cursed to dream about the fall of the nation. I had them a lot when I was a kid. Not anymore, since I started taking Albedo’s concoction. But I ran out and the nightmare is clearer than ever. It was horrible, D. Watching the city be destroyed by monsters, hearing kids cry, watching the archons destroy it.”

Kaeya’s breath comes in short, shallow pants. Diluc reaches over to rub gentle circles into his brother’s back.

“Kae, breathe. It’s ok. You’re here, with me, not there. It’s just a nightmare. Not your memory. You’re Kaeya Alberich,” he tells Kaeya, using a similar litany to the one he’s used on his worst nights, when he comes perilously close to losing himself. “Spy, but also a Knight of Favonius and adopted son of Crepus Ragnvindr. You belong to Mondstadt as much as Khaenri’ah.”

“I’m Kaeya Alberich,” the younger man repeats. “Spy and Knight of Favonius. Crepus’s son. From Mondstadt and Khaenri’ah.”

The words seem to ground him, bringing him into the here and now.

“Better?”

“A little. Except now my feet hurt.”

“I wonder why? I’m taking you back to the Winery.”

Kaeya frowns. “Why?”

“Your feet are a mess. I want to go home. And I don’t think you want to explain to Jean why you can’t walk tomorrow. If you’re at the Winery, I can claim that you came over last night to raid my basement.”

“I don’t think she’d believe it.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Tell him the truth, a little voice in Diluc’s heart whispers. He’s family. He doesn’t deserve a bunch of excuses.

Fine. I’ll tell him.

“And I want to be there if you have any more nightmares. I think you’d do the same for me.”

“Heh. Probably. Sometimes I wonder why.”

“You know, I’ve been asking myself the same thing.”

Diluc stows his claymore under the tree--to be retrieved when he doesn’t have a 6 foot sibling to carry--picks Kaeya up onto his back.

“Hey D--” Kaeya says, voice soft and sleepy.

“Hmmm?”

“Thank you.”

A soft smile tugs at Diluc’s lips. “Anytime, little brother.”

[fishbrain-glubglub]

Seven months, fifteen days, four hours, and thirty-seven minutes.

It had been that long since Bruce's heart had been violently ripped out of his chest as he watched Superman- his best friend, his partner in-and-out of crime, his sunshine, his husband- crumple lifelessly to the ground, bloodied almost beyond recognition in his tattered uniform worn from his final battle against his home planet's ultimate weapon. It had been that long since the life left the Kryptonian's otherworldly cornflower blue eyes, taking Bruce’s soul along with it. It had been that long since Batman stopped pulling back his punches, beating even common crooks inches within their lives just to feel the pound of flesh against the void that filled his senses. If it was a bad night, the Dark Knight would even allow those same criminals to get the drop on him, allowing these low-level nobodies to beat him senseless just to remember what it was like to feel something, anything other than the bare nothingness where his heart used to reside.

Sometimes, the Batman even allowed the higher level rogues get the drop on him, falling into trap after trap just to feel the thrill of adrenaline at the thought that maybe it was his time, and he would finally be reunited with his zrhomin again in blissful eternity amongst the stars.

This was one of those moments.

"Truly, Batman, I must admit I am perplexed." Edward Nigma circled the captured Caped Crusader twirling his question mark cane lazily in the air. "I have created quite a list of complex contraptions in the past, only for you to masterfully evade and vanquish my plans without so much as a batarang out of place." Nigma stopped right in front of Batman, a menacing sneer warping his pale face. "Yet here you are, battered, bloodied, and barely a threat. I can only conclude that all those seemingly ludicrous rumors are true."

Batman bared his bloodied teeth with a sneer of his own, itching for Riddler to finish his monolog so the fight could commence. The overwhelming inner numbness had already begun to creep within the vigilante's chest, stealing his every breath in its greed to consume.

Nigma only sighed and shook his head slowly, pulling at the question mark end of his cane to reveal a blade. "I had always imagined our final battle to be both a test of brain and brawn, but I guess I must settle for what I am given." He placed the blade against Batman's jaw and leaned in close. "Give my regards to the Man of Steel, will you? At least he still appreciated my riddles in the end."

Behind the white lenses of his cracked cowl, Bruce closed his eyes imagining the golden radiance of his beloved's ethereal form, accepting the final blow and awaited his eternal damnation.

The blow never came.

There was a brief gust of wind, knocking Batman to the ground before his bindings vanished, freeing his aching limbs from their containment. The man's eyes snapped open as he regained his equilibrium, rolling to his feet before he could collapse. He looked around for the Riddler, expecting another ploy to spring any moment.

Instead, a figure clad in a simple black Kryptonian suit hovered just outside the Dark Knight's reach, radiating light like the sun itself despite the sliver of moonlight peaking through Gotham’s cloudy skyline. The man's curly black hair gently brushed against his shoulders, pairing strikingly well with the face of slightly disheveled facial hair that framed the man's face perfectly. His eyes, vibrant and full of warmth, bore right through Bruce’s chest, warming the external chill he had been damned to carry. The sight before him was too good to be true.

It had to be.

"B." The black-clad figure flashed a strikingly familiar smile, sending the Dark Knight's nonexistent heart racing.

Batman took a large step back, crouching into a defensive stance. "I don't know who you are, or who made you, but I will not hesitate to send you back in pieces."

A confused look warped the mysterious figure's face. "B? What are you talking about? It's me."

"You may have his face, automaton," Batman snarled. "But you will never truly capture the essence of the Man of Steel."

Hurt merged with the figure's confusion. "Bruce, please-"

A batarang bounced harmlessly off the black-clad chest, the figure's hand catching the weapon in the blink of an eye. It looked down at the object in both disappointment and slight anguish before raising its gaze back at Batman, its well-crafted eyes pleading.

"Bruce-"

"Stop!" Batman threatened the figure with another batarang. "I don't know how your creator gained that name, but if you say it one more time, I will destroy every trace of your and your creator's existence before the night's end."

The figure held up its hands in a placating gesture, still holding the batarand between its pointer finger and thumb. "It’s okay, B. I promise it's really me." When Batman said nothing, it continued. "Will you let me prove it to you?"

Batman growled. "Nothing you do can prove you are nothing more than a fake."

The figure's chuckle sent a tingling warmth through Batman's body. It was so familiar, so realistic, he could almost imagine this automaton was the real Man of Steel. The figure's mouth curled up into an accurate teasing grin. "Try me."

Batman quickly internally rattled off a list of questions, only to just as quickly dismiss them from thought. Many of them contained information accessible to the public. Questions related to Justice League information unknown to the public could still be obtained (though if that were true, Bruce would've been alerted before it could ever be transplanted into a fake). Still, there were so few options for the figure to truly confirm its identity.

Unless...

Batman straightened from his battle stance, storing his batarangs back in his belt and looked the figure directly in its eyes. The automaton slowly lowered its arms to its side, dropping the batarang to the dusty warehouse floor. A hopeful smile danced on its perfectly sculpted features, eyes gleaming similar to Bruce's memory.

The Dark Knight took a moment to brace himself, taking a deep breath before speaking as calmly as the numbness would allow.

"There lies the heat of summer

On your cheek's lovely art;

There lies the cold of winter

Within zhao,tes lonely heart."

Recognition and joy lit up the figure's face as it made an aborted motion forward before forcing itself to stay.

"That will change, Vikhzhao,

The end not as the start!

Winter on your cheek then,

Summer in your heart."

Before Bruce could even register the movement, he was lunging forward into the figure's- into Kal's- strong yet gentle arms, burying his bruised face into the crook of his husband's neck. The comforting warmth of the Kryptonian filled the crushing void that hard tried to consume Bruce for months, restarting his heart and sending a rapid rhythm under his skin. Seven months, fifteen days, four hours, and fifty-two minutes worth of anguish and sorrow bubbled violently to the surface of the Dark Knight's psyche, threatening to escape through his now trembling lips.

A gentle hand began rubbing soothing patterns against Bruce's tattered back while the other held him close, not daring to let go anytime soon.

"Hey now, B. It's okay." Kal's soothing tenor sent another wave of relief amongst Bruce's other overwhelming emotions threatening to consume the man. "I'm here, darling, I promise."

"You idiot!" Anger swelled above everything else, causing Bruce to pull away from Kal's embrace enough to look his husband in his beautiful otherworldly eyes, pounding half-heartedly on his perfect chest. "You fucking moron! You weren't supposed to die! Not until I was long gone, our life full of happy memories and zero regrets!"

"And that can still happen." The Kryptonian's smile didn't waver as he cupped his partner's jaw, lighting up every inch of Bruce's being. "I'm here, aren't I? There's still plenty of time."

"No."

Confusion shrouded Kal's smile. "No?"

Bruce tightened his grip on his love's waist, scowling without any heat behind it. "No. We have seven months, fifteen days, four hours, and fifty-six minutes of catching up to do." He glanced at the distant Gotham skyline before returning his now heated gaze to his partner. "And Bruce Wayne has a mandatory quarterly review meeting in six hours and twenty-seven minutes."

A darker, more mischievous grin spread on Kal's face. "I can get us home before you can list all of the things we have missed."

"That's not fair." Bruce huffed. "That's a very long list."

Kal scooped Bruce into a long familiar (yet still embarrassing) bridal carry before leaning down for the most heart-felt kiss Bruce had ever experienced in a long time. His body was instantly filled to the brim with warmth and love and happiness and Kal, melting away any physical or mental pain from Bruce's mind. Everything was realigned once more, life becoming worth living once more.

After what felt like a millenia and yet only the briefest of a millisecond, Kal pulled away, his brilliant sapphire eyes gleaming with light Bruce never thought he'd see again.

"You better get started then."

He never did finish that list.

[purity-town]

No update today...because I just graduated from college!!! It's been a wild weekend with my graduation ceremony and moving apartments and all that, but from here on out I'm officially free!

We're also just past the third anniversary of Purity Town! I had started working on the comic towards the end of my first semester at college, during one of the lowest points of my life -- so suffice to say, I'm so glad to see how far we've come since then, and many thanks to everyone for sticking around for so long and making this such a fun experience to work on!

And with all that, after ages, I've finally got ask responses all typed up under the cut!

And thank you for reading!!!!! Seriously, it makes me so so so happy to see people enjoying this comic so much -- I'm getting to draw things and get excited about my lore ideas and present NPC interpretations and OCs and it's wonderful that other people are just as hyped about it. I adore Chris and Andrew a lot and I'm glad other people do too!

Haha, yep! The Dryad gets to see That Guy again after 450 years, the townsfolk get to see the equivalent of a mythical fairy show up to bless their town, and Andrew has to deal with the Literal Actual Dryad in town and up in his business. Everyone will be happy about this and there's no way it will end messily!

I've definitely thought about it! Particularly having her being Andrew's maternal grandmother, and then working elements reminiscent of that into Andrew's mother's design -- I even have a general idea for how she looks based on that, though I don't have anything to show for it as I haven't tried properly drawing her out.

I think there are several interesting hooks that could come of it, depending on how you spin it. Big problem with all of that being that, at least off the top of my head, there's hardly any in-game lore surrounding the nymph -- she's just someone (some creature? a type of creature? a unique being?) that exists.

I did see a note on the wiki pointing out the similarities between the Dryad and the Nymph's designs, but I'm not totally convinced that's intended; they just happen to both be showing a lot of skin. The definition of "Dryad" including the word "Nymph" nudges me towards them being related, but I'm still just...not sure. Maybe Nymphs (or Nymph, singular) are a handful of Dryads who were not outright killed in the war but instead mutated beyond recognition by the eldritch powers they fought against? Much to think about; I'm open to ideas if anyone has opinions on the matter!

Here you go! And a sta.sh link again in case of Tumblr-image-quality-shenanigans.

Thank you!!! The Aether is an incredibly fun location to draw in general; it's so strange and magical and gives me an excuse to add stars and sparkles everywhere. Add in the Shimmer and it's just- such a delight, haha. It's rainbows and starlight and it was really interesting translating the in-game side view we get of the Shimmer pond to the top view in the comic.

Thank you :) This was quite the semester, and working around other folks' schedules for groupwork and sudden project requirements changes and so on and so forth left me with a busy and unpredictable schedule. But I was able to wrap up the semester with solid finals and a great GPA, so it worked out in the end -- and now I'll finally be settling into a more regular work schedule. No more all-nighters (hopefully)!!

I’ll admit that I haven’t really thought about this much. If anything, I’ll probably handwave it a bit to be more general -- main reason being that there are plenty of reasons for someone to be on edge during a Blood Moon, and that can be an interesting thing to explore without making it into a “haha menstruation” joke.

(Also, considering the Zoologist transforms during a Blood Moon regardless of moon phase, I think the idea of the moon warping the mind and that being amplified during Blood Moons in general is a more interesting take. But even if you remove that element, Blood Moons are scary and characters being snappy or on-edge is reasonable given the circumstances.)

I don’t have a good response to this bit, but please know that it made me laugh quite a lot.

First off -- I’m so sorry for taking so long to answer this ask; I hope you’ve gotten good info elsewhere in the meantime but I’ll add what advice I can give! Here are some general tips below -- some may be more useful than others depending on your situation and approach to drawing, but I hope it helps in some way or another!

Start small. Purity Town started as a 2-page mini-comic, and then expanded into a 10-page chapter as I got used to the comic-making process and decided whether I wanted to stick with the project or not. Purity Town ended up snowballing into a larger narrative comic rather than the "small comic snippets accompanying a more typical fanfic" as I had originally been thinking of, but starting small helped me ease into it nonetheless. By the time that I had finished the first chapter, I had gained enough experience working with comics to feel comfortable/confident enough to continue on to chapter 2, and things just kept rolling from there.

Pace yourself. I'm quite slow at drawing, so I generally do my best to set aside time every Saturday just to work on the comic, as well as working on it whenever I feel like it over the week. This keeps me from burnout (and repetitive strain injuries). Importantly, having a set update schedule also helps me remember to actually work on updates, as leaving me to my own devices = never getting anything done (see: how long it took to answer this ask). However, many folks do just fine updating entirely on their own time, so take this one with a grain of salt and figure out what works best for you!

Plan ahead. This applies more to making longer, narrative-focused comics. Because comic-making is so time consuming, every page should count. You don't need to have the entire thing written out before you begin (see again: burnout; it's also nice to have some level of flexibility with the story to see it grow alongside your skills), but planning out at least the current story "segment" is a big help. I like to script out the current chapter, starting with a pile of out-of-context dialogue snippets and overarching chapter ideas and boiling it down to a proper dialogue script with notes for panel ideas. It helps a lot with figuring out how long the chapter will end up being and lets me freely move events around until I'm happy with how they fit together, rather than doing it all on the fly.

Do what you can to save time. If you're a digital artist especially, look into what tools your art program of choice has to help make your illustration process smoother, like paint filling tools or vector lines. If you want to re-use backgrounds or character art, then do so! It's okay! Do whatever makes you enjoy what you're doing and happy with the end result!

Stay organized. This was touched on in a number of the other points, but it's so important that I'm giving it its own slot. I make liberal use of folders and layers -- personally, I use three layers for lineart and every layer has at most two colors. Text gets its own folder and special effects have color-coded labels. My layers are always organized in the same way and I keep often-reused materials (like the lineart for Chris' staff) in separate files for easy access. Of course, the specifics are dependent on how you draw, but this has made a world of difference for me personally.

It's okay to experiment and change things. Figure out what works for you -- some folks do comics entirely as sketches or lineart without coloring, you'll see book-style vs. scrolling/vertical webcomics, and all that. It's okay to swap things up if you find that something isn't working out. Don't get too caught up in everything being "perfect," just experiment and see what makes you happy.

(Side note, but if anyone here specifically uses Clip Studio Paint and wants to talk about platform-specific details like brushes or using certain tools, feel free to send me a message on Tumblr/Discord about it. I am by no means a master of Clip Studio, but I am at least familiar with the particular tools I frequently use and can give info on them!)

Based on personal experience, a random cave halfway down to Hell. 90% chance that it’s completely enclosed and filled with random monsters, haha. Luckily the Dryad was there to stop him!

[seraheart]

I kinda wish that the DetCo canon would do more with the fact that the relationship (I don't mean this in the shipping sense) between Conan and Haibara has been, or at least logically should have been, really strained for a long time.

Originally, they had this development where Haibara was really messed up, overly cautious and trying to force her maladaptive survival psychological issues onto other people, and generally not good at positive interactions. Then, slowly, Conan and the others started gaining her trust (not entirely though), and also her general mental health improved (never completely though).

But then it turned around, and started getting significantly worse. Haibara isn't really in a healing arc anymore. If Aoyama still took her seriously as a character (which, to be fair, I don't think is the case), she would be in a retraumatization arc. Conan and his allies are limiting Haibara's agency, invading her privacy, dismissing her concerns about all this, and pretending that this isn't happening while she can obviously tell that it is happening.

I think the really obvious turning point was the Mystery Train arc. Haibara even called Conan and Agasa out on it and stated that she wouldn't forgive if she were to be treated like that again. Instead of taking her hurt seriously, they just told her she should "be thankful", and dismissed her hurt as "tsundere", refusing to take her trauma seriously after using it and using her as a mere chess piece in their plans (and Akai even triggering her more by gloating about it).

Since then, Haibara has been trapped under the constant, violating supervision of these people who have demonstrated that they don't respect her, and also refuse to acknowledge that the problem even exists. It's not a situation where her recover arc could realistically continue. By all logic, she should be spiraling, getting worse again.

And maybe this is on purpose; Aoyama definitely didn't plan the manga to get this long when he introduced Haibara, and originally the slow-burn of her recovery was a good way to postpone a scenario where Haibara could actually trust Conan enough to give him the kind of information that would lead to the finale arc. But... eventually, even with the extreme slow burn of DetCo, Haibara's recovery arc and relationship development with Conan would have gotten to the point where her continued withholding of crucial information would no longer make sense... and, I guess, rather than start concluding the story at a humanly reasonable rate, Aoyama just opted to nuke Haibara's whole recovery arc and character and relationship development (not only with Conan but also Agasa).

Which could have been tragic but realistic (albeit kind of a major downer out of tune with the manga's usual tone, and upsetting to anyone who had been invested in the slow-burn mental health improvement arc), but then Aoyama can't even be arsed to take it seriously, and is now just pretending that the situation with Haibara and her relationships with Conan and Agasa are still "normal" instead of FUBAR.

It's regrettable and really shows how much everyone dragging out this franchise to milk it for more money just... doesn't actually care about the story anymore, hasn't in a long time. They'll eventually just kill central, fan-favorite, long-running story arcs rather than actually letting them conclude or evolve in a satisfying manner if that would mean risking their precious status quo (which has warped beyond all recognition anyway, so I'm not sure why they bother).

[auroramoon-draws16]

The Crossover Bar AU: the Beginning

“What… what the fuck?”

Desmond didn’t know what was gonna happen after the Temple (after sacrificing himself), but waking up in a bar, a 1920’s style speakeasy, was not what he was expecting.

It looks new, it smelled new, the scent of fresh wood and fabrics, stocked up alcohol and syrups, it was nice- really nice. He didn’t know what to make of it, but his body moved anyway. Stepping behind the counter he found so many bottles, glasses, there was modern bartending tools and shakers, also new. It felt like someone placed everything here, just for him. Like this was all just for him.

“So, do you like it?”

Holy shit- oh wow it’s been a while since anyone could sneak up on him. Desmond reflexively held his hand to the speaker’s throat, hidden blade at the ready.

“Wha- I- who are you?” He sputtered, eyes wide at the girl, no really, it was a girl. At least- he thinks, his mind couldn’t comprehend any detail about her. Like everything about her was glitching beyond recognition. She was short, and that’s all Desmond could tell about her.

“Don’t worry about that,” she grinned(?), nudging his hand away from her throat, and weirdly enough, he let her. “Answer my question, do you like it?” She repeated, not rudely per say, just… eager. Like a little kid showing her mom her drawing.

Blinking, Desmond lowered his hand, and took another look around.

There were wooden tables and chairs everywhere, nicely made from what he could tell, set up in a circle around a stage across from the entrance. The curtains a bright, vivid blood red, and there were lights up on the ceiling to brighten it up. From his place at the bar he could see a balcony, a second floor, but besides the railing and the edge of a pool table, he couldn’t see much else. On the walls were empty picture frames, waiting for something to occupy them- well, most of them- the one by the entrance had a portrait of Desmond with a golden frame.

It felt…

“It’s… home,” he blurted, “it feels like home.”

The girl(?) made a happy noise, bouncing up and down excitedly, “I knew it! I knew you’d like it!” She squealed, a warped and echoing sound, “oh I can’t wait! There’s gonna be so many more, they’re gonna like it too! You’ll see!” Before Desmond could respond, he felt arms wrap around his middle, “I’m gonna go get them, stay right here! Oh they’re gonna love you! You won’t be lonely, I promise!” And then she was gone. Just- he blinked and she was gone.

“Don’t mind her, the Apprentice is just excited,” someone explained, sounding both amused and fond. “This is her first project.”

Desmond looked to the other end of the bar, finding a man(?) sitting with an empty glass. He couldn’t see his features either, but that’s because he was engulfed in a bright light from head to toe. He felt familiar- distant- like looking into a funhouse mirror, him just not really… he even sounded sort of like-

“Hey, don’t do that,” he interrupted Desmond’s thoughts, holding up his empty glass, “you’ll get a headache. Now then, you’re a bartender, aren’t you? Mind pouring me something?”

Shaking out of his stupor, Desmond reached for the shelf, “right, uh, what’d you want…?” He asked, head still buzzing.

“You can call me the Reader,” the Reader told him, a smile in his faint voice, “that Whiskey will do.” He pointed at the bottle Desmond’s hand was hovering over.

After pouring him a glass, Desmond twitched, “uh, what do you mean- about her- the Apprentice- this project- what-?”

The Reader chuckled, “You’re not the first, you won’t be the last,” he muttered, more to himself than to Desmond, “she’s a good friend, she wanted to try something new, something different than what I usually do- or what They usually do- so I’m letting her try it out. This place is gonna be a catch all, a hub for any Soul needing somewhere to go, a place where they can Crossover the threshold without- well, y’know. Of course since you’ll be the Host, you have the final say over everything, this domain is all yours.”

“What? Who- I don’t understand, what the fuck does all of that mean?” Desmond spluttered. The Reader just laughed again. Asshole.

“You’ll get it soon enough,” he took a swig of whiskey and pointed to the door, “look, your first Guest is here.”

“Seriously? I’m not gonna fall for that,” and he was gone in a blink too, nothing but an empty glass to even hint someone else was here, “goddammit.”

Desmond didn’t know what to make of all this, who the Reader or the Apprentice were, what they were doing, what they even are in the first place, but he knew people were coming, Guests, the Reader said, and that he’s the Host. So that’s what he’s gotta do then, if the bar was made for him, and that’s what he’s here for, he might as well… right? What else was he supposed to do? He’s supposed to be dead, but he’s here as the Host.

Taking the glass and grabbing a cleaning rag from under the counter, he cleans it. Looking up at the doors, before hearing them swing open and watching someone stumble onto the floor with shouts of shock and thuds of limbs scrambling to catch onto the smooth floor.

“Hey, welcome to the- wait- Clay!”

“Seventeen!?”

[destieltropecollection]

DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 6 | Hurt/Comfort

There are cameras in the Dungeon | @destiel-wings

Rating: General Word Count: 1,368 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Canon Compliant, During Canon, Angst and Feels, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug Summary: Dean realizes there are cameras in the dungeon. He rewatches Castiel's confession on tape. Emotions come to surface.

Sheltering Wings | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,535 Main Tags/Warnings: Season/Series 05, Whump, Huddling For Warmth, Cuddling & Snuggling, Light Angst, Winged Castiel (Supernatural), Sharing a Bed Summary: He puts his arms more fully around Dean. He wraps Dean invisibly with his wings. If only he could protect Dean indefinitely from demons and angels and physics and all the other realities of the universe… but he can’t. It’s not possible.

In the low lamp light | @deanabean

Rating: Mature Word Count: 1,568 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Selectively Mute Dean Winchester, Light Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester Has Nightmares, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff they love each other your honor, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sleepy Cuddles, Forehead Kisses Summary: “Did I wake you up? Didn't mean to.” Dean asks into his lips. Dean chances a look at the clock above the mantel. Christ, it’s been an hour already! He didn’t even notice. At least that answers his question. Cas shakes his head sluggishly and seriously who gives him the right to be this adorable whole half-asleep?! “No, you didn’t. The rain did.” Dean hums. And he's kissing his husband again. They end up trading soft kisses back and forth for a few minutes before Cas pulls back, drops a small kiss on Dean’s forehead, and then cuddles close to Dean's side, ticking his nose into Dean's neck. . Or the one when Dean is little bit sleep-deprived and Cas decides to keep his company.

Broken Water Heaters and Subpar Motel Rooms | @sunshine-zenith

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,616 Main Tags/Warnings: Minor injury, references to homelessness, set in s9, Human Cas, Guilty Dean, Protective Dean, vague references to suicide (none occurred), references to past child neglect/abuse Summary: In the chill of the morning following the incident with the Rit Zien, Dean lets Cas sleep in and calls his boss.

catch your breath | @demonmary

Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,086 Main Tags/Warnings: Panic Attacks, PTSD, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Post-Canon Summary: The first time it happened, Dean wished he had said something before it reached a boiling point, before his nostrils were filled with a stale smoke that hadn't existed in decades, before his muscles were burning, all of them, all at once, and his head was screaming, he was screaming, or he couldn't scream, god, he wanted to scream.

Just to Prove the World Was Here | @withclawsandsympathy

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,385 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, The hurt here is more psychological wounds than physical ones, Themes of loneliness and isolation, John critical moments, POV Dean, Human!Cas, An exploration of love in its many forms of expression Summary: The end of the world has a way of warping the things we once knew, molding them into forms far beyond recognition. Time blurs at the edges. Hope cracks along its many fault lines. But there's one thing strong enough to withstand the apocalypse itself. Love, in all its forms -- if you'll let yourself have it. Or, the world is still worth saving. And so is Dean Winchester.

Last Stop ‘Till We Reach Heaven | @destielsuperfan

Rating: Mature Word Count: 3,017 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Character, DeathCastiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jody Mills, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, post Season 8 finale, Sorry I Killed off Sam, It’s for Plot I Promise!!Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied Sexual Content, nothing graphic but they do have sex, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Gardener Castiel (Supernatural), Cas has a cat, Short & Sweet Summary: Dean is about ready to give up. Loss after loss is enough to tell him to stop trying because with every attempt it seems Dean is left more and more alone. With a final trip to see his friend Jody Mills, she gives him news of a long lost face he’d assume he’s never see again. Risking it all for answers, Dean makes one final stop to place he couldn’t have pictured only to see the face of his last hope.

Leave The Stones Unturned | @sobernatural

Rating: Mature Word Count: 3,749 Main Tags/Warnings: Past sexual abuse, Angst and hurt/comfort, Underage Prostitution, Trauma, Dean Winchester has PTSD, non-linear narrative. Summary: All Dean wants is to make Cas feel good, because if there's someone who deserves it, it's Cas. And Dean is good at making others feel good. Made an entire career out of it and everything. So fucking what if Dean isn't 'in the mood'? Not like that has stopped anybody before.

Ineffectual Healing | @aaronthe8thdemon

Rating: Mature Word Count: 3,856 Main Tags/Warnings: Blood and Gore, Injured Castiel (Supernatural), Whump, Light Angst, Caretaker Dean Winchester, Season/Series 06, Pre-Slash Summary: *At least we rescued the… whatever that thing is,* Dean thinks as he tries to ignore how Cas’ skull is resting heavily against his stomach. He’s got Cas’ shoulders and Sam has the harder job at the foot-end, which means Dean walking backwards and trying not to trip while struggling to keep a good grip on the crunched vessel of his idiot friend. Because of fucking COURSE Cas just ran headfirst into the basement and got bitch-slapped by an overpowered witch.

Aurora/Boreas | @the-elf-barbarian

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,076 Main Tags/Warnings: S9 Cas is fallen/human, Heaven Can't Wait UA, Minor Case Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nature, Only One Bed Summary: Not that anyone was asking, but Cas had settled into his small life in Rexburg after locking the doors of heaven. After Dean had kicked him out, he’d found a place for himself. Nora liked him, and he was good at the various clearly-defined tasks his day now revolved around. Maybe it wasn’t as earth changing or epic as his life had once been. but he was mortal now. And, while he may not have a home. Neither did the vast majority of all humans in history and they had, most of them, done just fine. Or at least that’s what he would have said, until Dean walked back into his life. Now they have a new case, a light show to catch and a little too much time to discuss what went down.

It Doesn’t Immediately Collapse Under Them | @sunshine-zenith

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5,060 Main Tags/Warnings: Past Minor Character Death, Normal Human AU, Past Child Neglect/Abuse, Past Childhood Bullying, Single Dad Dean, Single Dad Cas, Baker Dean, Professor Cas, Bonding Over Trauma, Minor Injury Summary: After a long day of feeling like he's done nothing but let his niece down, and still weighed down by the trauma of his brother's death that led to him being her guardian in the first place, Castiel takes her to the park in an attempt to salvage the day. There, he finds Dean Winchester with his daughter Emma. While Emma and Claire play, Dean and Castiel watch them from the ancient swing set and get caught up in their own conversation. Something about Dean has Castiel opening up to him, and the two bond over ranting about Valentine's Day, sharing their jobs, and slowly realizing they understand what the other's been through in the past.

Happy Wife, Happy Life (or not so much) | @pssy-wagn

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 24,600 Main Tags/Warnings: Major character death, infidelity, murder, suicide, top!Cas, bottom!Dean, no happy ending Summary: After being together for five years to his wife Daphne, Castiel is stuck in a rut. Coming through the doors of his Gas-N-Sip, is the most beautiful man Castiel has ever seen. Getting to know each other more intimately, Dean and Castiel get consumed in a passionate, yet dangerous affair.

Accidents Happen | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 6,860 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Dean, Friends to Lovers Summary: When Dean ends up involved in a car accident on a lonely road, with no one else around for miles, he finds himself completely out of it. His only conscious thought is, Get to Cas. And so he does.

Hanal Pixan | @twinone1221

Rating: General Word Count: 6,930 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Stull Cemetery, Past Character Death, Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, References to Mayan Religion & Lore Summary: Dean grew up trying to forget his life before his mother died and actively avoiding memories of the rest of his childhood. One day, he finds himself back in his hometown with an unexplained urge to visit her gravesite. There he finds a strange man that guides him down the unexplored path of long lost memories and transcendental love.

Only to you I confide | @naughtystiel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9,536 Main Tags/Warnings: mention of suicidal thoughts, alcoholism, priest!cas, hurt/comfort, happy ending Summary: “Sometimes, brokenness makes us a victim. Others might want to use it against us, to hurt us, but I believe it can motivate us to be strong. To not only believe in what’s above us, but to believe in ourselves.” Dean’s eyes started to water and he bit his lip, tilting his head just right so his hair would cover what a mess he was.

Lipstick Whore | @valandrawrites

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9,886 Main Tags/Warnings: Prostitute Dean Winchester, Femme Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Wears Panties, Feminization, Crossdressing Kink, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dominant Castiel, Dom Castiel, Castiel is Obsessed with Dean Winchester, Stalking, Stalker Castiel, Desperate Dean Winchester, Depressed Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Wears Women's Clothes, Emotional Manipulation, Spit As Lube, Castiel Has a Panty Kink, insta-love, Unsafe Sex Summary: Dean Winchester paints his lips and services the men Cain sets him up with. It's better than working the corner and keeps him and Sam in a safe apartment with 3 squares a day. His life ain't so bad. It's fine. Except every now and then a real wacko comes around. Like tonight when the enigmatic, handsome, and erratic Castiel greets him in room 11 at the Bunker Blues Mote.

Scent Deprived (WIP) | Destielshipper4Cas (AO3)

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 26,085 Main Tags/Warnings: Touch-Deprived Castiel, Caring Dean, Strangers to Lovers, Hurt Castiel, Slow Healing, Past Abuse, Bottom Castiel, Top Dean, Alpha Dean, Omega Castiel, Happy Ending Summary: Dean rescues an omega from an illegal research facility. But after years of scent deprivation, the omega is catatonic at best and on the brink of going feral at worst. Now it’s up to Dean to save him. In order to break past Cas’ defenses, he might just have to let him into his home and heart in return.

Still Water Run Deep | @thisisapaige

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 41,168 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent After s15e09 The Trap, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mute Castiel, Mark of Cain, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Summary: In the darkest depths of the ocean, sealed into the ma'lak box with Chuck trapped behind the Mark, Castiel loses the battle against God's rage. When Sam and Dean find Castiel on a dark patch of highway— the Mark missing and his grace weak— he cannot speak. It rains. It rains and it rains and it rains. It is a Great Flood. In order to stop God, save the world, and resolve the issues simmering between them for years, Castiel and Dean need to communicate. Perhaps they should build an ark instead.

Holy Ground | @father-salmon

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 43,601 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Summary: It’s been 15 years since Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak have talked to each other. After a falling out after their senior year of high school, Cas went to Stanford, then to New York, then never went back. Until now. Sam and Eileen are getting married in their hometown of Lazarus and have invited Castiel. Not wanting to disappoint one of his closest friends and the only link left to Dean he has, Castiel agrees, ignoring the pain in his heart and all the memories he’s buried deep inside. Fate intervenes when Dean discovers that Cas is attending the wedding and everything falls apart. Between wanting to avoid Cas and begging on his knees for forgiveness, Dean is caught between a rock and a hard place. And Castiel, who’s never stopped loving Dean, is trapped in his own anger— for Dean not reaching out and for the pain he’s caused him that night in the Barn. These two men will have to navigate old feels surfacing as well as their own traumas and separate lives they’ve gone through and really understand what it means to be on Holy Ground.

Brighter Than Sunflowers | @nessarose-thropp

Rating: Mature Word Count: 61,325 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Season/Series 14, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Artist Dean Winchester, Mental Health Issues, Selectively Mute Dean Winchester, Claire Novak in the Men of Letters Bunker Summary: Dean has spent the last six months drowning in his own mind until one day he's finally rescued. He's free now, but that doesn't mean he's okay. Faced with overwhelming changes to his life, he has to find new ways to keep going.

The Unbroken | @casblackfeathers

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 126,551 Main Tags/Warnings: Zombie Apocalypse, Croatoan Virus, endverse, hurt/comfort, wing fic, soul bond, strangers to lovers, bottom Dean, top Castiel, badass castiel, protective dean, openly bisexual dean, mutual pining, slow burn Summary: Dean’s life had been made of running. He ran from a curse that had desolated his life ever since he was a child — whenever he got hurt, he turned into a goddamn human-torch, killing everyone around him — and he ran from himself and his own self-loathing. But managing all that at the end of a world full of Croats lurking around every corner was easier said than done. Until a mysterious man with tousled dark hair paired with blue eyes as clear as the sky during a hot summer’s day stopped him from free falling, literally. In one fell swoop, the stranger had not only saved his life but also calmed the wildfire threatening to burn everything in its wake. There was something about Castiel that made Dean want to stop running but also hid something darker — something Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. And between soft, pillowy lips and feather-like fingerprints, Cas could very well shatter Dean’s world and maybe help save the whole world in return.

Keeping You In Sight | @ao3gingerswag

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 136,374 Main Tags/Warnings: Slavery, hurt/comfort, blind castiel, past abuse, past sexual abuse, slow burn Summary: Castiel valued his solitude, and was happy to stay hidden away in the mountains for the rest of his life. But when his seeing eye dog dies, that solitude is suddenly broken when Gabriel shows up not with another dog but an actual human slave. Castiel doesn't believe in slavery, but he can't turn away the very hurt and broken man he's given.

[heckinconfusedparade]

Nine Finds Sonic Boom Part 2

Part 1 vvvv

Eggman is a determined man. His access to the multiverse has granted him more power than he thought- and with great power, comes great oopsie-daisies.

Orbot and Cubot whisper amongst themselves as Eggman fiddles with the controls for his warp pad. They’re concerned for their safety and for Eggmans safety. He seems pretty hellbent on getting a Tails on his side. They hope that if another Tails comes around it’s someone like Mangey or hell, even a little kid. That would be more fun than a dangerous Tails. Their Tails is dangerous enough because of his inventions little consistent bugs.

Eggman evilly giggles and rubs his hands together like a house fly “it’s ready.. Orbot! Cubot! Pull the lever!!”

“But sir, you’re right next to-“

“JUST PULL THE LEVER YOU LAZY BAGS OF BOLTS!”

Orbot sighs and pulls the lever. The familiar portal opens up, and a small figure appears. Indeed the person to come through is Tails, but he looks.. familiar.

The new Tails glares and growls at Eggman. Eggman screams “NO NO NOT YOU AGAIN!”

Nine doesn’t speak. His eyes dart around as he inspects his surroundings. His 7 mechanical tails spread out as he charges at Orbot and Cubot who cling to each other. “Please don’t hurt us!!“ Cubot pleads.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”

Cubot panics “um uhh.. cause we’re cute?”

There’s a pause before Nine lunges at the two robots who start screaming. The two bots end up with their heads on the floor. Orbot says to Cubot “nice going.” To which Cubot says “at least we aren’t dead!” And Orbot shushes him saying “don’t give him ideas.”

Nine approaches Eggman who starts sweating profusely. He presses a button and some badniks pull up. They don’t last a second against Nine. Nine thinks this level of evil is absolutely pathetic and almost laughable. Eggman goes to his desk “I’ve had it with you! You and your stupid spider legs!!”

Nine looks at him “what is ‘spider’? Nevermind. Send me back or else we will have problems.”

Eggman laughs nervously “unfortunately there’s a c-cooldown!” Nine responds by smashing his desk. He starts pulling apart and turning over every furniture in retaliation. “MY BEAUTIFUL FURNITURE PLEASE LEAVE IT ALONE YOU CRETIN!” Eggman pleads. Nine starts going for him. Eggman learns that this kid is FAST.

Nine is chasing Eggman through his own home, he is literally scurrying on the walls like some kind of hell spider. Eggman gets his Eggmobile and hops in to fly away. Guess what? Nines not far behind. He can fly too! And with enough deTERMINATION he can and will last the oceans length.

Sonic is laying on a beach chair catching some nice Z’s in the sunshine. All is calm, all is bright. Until Eggfucker1991 flies over screaming like kittens were just beaten to death with a water bottle in front of him. Sonic at first thinks ‘hm the flies sound really weird today’ but then he opens his eyes and spots the terrified Egg Man. What on Mobius is happening?? Then he spots Nine, and he starts waving his arms frantically to get his attention.

“NINE NINE OVER HERE!!”

Nine looks over and his eyes light up in recognition. He’s seen this bastard before! He leaves Eggman and flies over to Sonic, only now letting the fatigue get to him. Eggman immediately retreats back to his lair, again mumbling about a stupid fox and his stupid spider legs.

Sonic smiles at the little dude “it’s really nice to see you again! You missed quite a bit.”

Nine pants “yeah. Yeah just. Gimme a second.. can’t feel.. my tails..” aaaand he collapses. Sonic looks around in a panic. Nine immediately tries to stand back up, but Sonic stops him and opts to carry him instead. He’s gonna visit the person he knows can make this kid a nutritious meal. AMY!

Sonic reaches Amy’s house in record time and pounds on her door. Amy opens the door looking rather annoyed “you’re gonna break my door-“ she notices Nine in his arms “oh! Nine! Hello!”

Nine gives an acknowledging nod. Sonic barges in and lays Nine on Amy’s pink couch. “What’s wrong with him?” Amy asks, propping Nines feet on a pillow above his head level since he’s looking rather groggy. Sonic tells her about the episode on the beach, and that’s all she needs to start whipping something up. Nine consumes his food like a man starved.. cause he is! He fainted because he had very little to eat. He finished the leftovers from his visit to the SCU a while ago.

Once he’s recovered, it’s time to head out again! But Amy carry’s some snacks in her purse so if Nine gets hungry or feels faint again, he can have something to munch on.

They walk into the village. Sonic lifts his arms up and rests his hands behind his head in a relaxed saunter, “Tails will be happy to see you!” Sonic laughs, “right after he’s done being happy to see his girlfriend.” He nods towards Zooey and Tails in the distance. Zooey has Tails’ hands in hers and they’re talking about something. Tails’ tails begin to wag. Then spin. Then oooh boy he’s taking off! Zooey pulls him back to her for a second to give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek before letting him fly away like a very happy bird. Tails has a stupid puppy love grin as he floats off. Amy coos at the sight. She’s so happy they’re happy! Sonic has a proud smile. Nine is. So confused.

The group follow Tails in the sky until he lands back at home. Tails sighs and droops like those lovey dovey teenage girls in 2000’s shows. He snaps out of it when he sees he has an audience. He scrambles back to his feet and attempts to return to his normal confidence. Now he notices Nine!

“Nine! You’re back!”

“Wasn’t my choice.”

“How so?”

“One second I was cruising through shatterspace, and the next Im in that Dr. Eggmans lair!”

Tails gets to think thonkin. Sonics face lights up as he remembers “NINE CHASED EGGMAN OUT OF HIS LAIR” he says enthusiastically slamming his hand on Nines back. Tails laughs “Aw man I missed it!” Nine steps away from Sonics hand “I also tore things apart, including those weird geometric robots he had.” That last part makes the 3 gasp. “Y-you killed Orbot and Cubot??” Amy stutters. Nine groans that she’s even concerned for those things “no I did not. They were still yapping when I left em. They told me not to dismantle them because they’re cute.” Amy sweats and smiles nervously “don’t you think.. they are kinda cute?” She asks. Nine rolls his eyes “the only thing cute about em is their concept of excuses.” He taps away on his wristband to connect to his shuttle.

Then he remembers something. He looks at Tails “YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND??” His sudden change of tone startles Tails who takes a moment to find words “y-yea! I do! Her names Zooey!” his answer makes Nine raise an eyebrow “and you’re all sappy about it,” Nine says “you flew away looking like my Sonic talking about chilli dogs. You looked dumb.”

Tails frowns “are you not happy for me?”

Nine shrugs “I’m neutral. Romantic relations for the most part allude me. The only girl I’ve ever thought was pretty was someone another Tails already liked. So it’s not that I’m not happy for you, it’s just the idea is mostly foreign to me.”

Tails’ smile returns “oh ok I get it! Tell me about this other Tails!”

Nine shares his experience in the X universe. Being hit by debris in space, meeting Cream and Cheese (Amy is trying to convince Vanilla and Cream to move to Hedgehog island), getting upset with Tails, kicking Knuckles, meeting Cosmo and thinking she was nice, meeting Chris, and the new upgrades Chris and Tails gave his shuttle.

Tails is noting this all in his head. New potential multiverse destination!

Sonic ain’t know who Chris is.

Amy is a little peeved that Nine talked about her other self as annoying, but maybe soon one day she’ll understand.

Nine also talks about his time in the SCU. The others are excited to hear their little rascals are doing well.

Knuckles and Sticks emerge from the tree line, having a small disagreement.

“I can’t believe you did that!” Sticks has her arms stiff to her sides in anger. Knuckles huffs “Im inno-kent-“

Sticks stops to fully turn to Knuckles and glare at him “ITS INNO-SENT!! INNOCENT! Stop watchin tv it’s meltin your last braincell!”

“Bold of you to assume I HAVE a braincell!” Knuckles says with absolute confidence and braggery in his tone. Sticks scoffs. Then the two spot Nine. They run to him to greet their lil friend. Knuckles has learned to not pick up the fox as much as he would love to, but that doesn’t stop his enthusiasm!

Sticks punches the lil man’s shoulder “Hey, Nine! What brings you back to our neck of the woods?”

Knuckles scratches his head confused “the forest has a neck?”

Sticks looks at the echidna with her annoyance towards him resurfacing “no. It’s a figure of speech.”

Nine tells them again about how he chased Eggman out of his lair and destroyed the interior. Sticks and Knuckles get a good laugh out of it!

Tails then asks a question that he’s been pondering for a while now “Did you find your Sonic, Nine?” Nines expression drops “I did.” He scowls. Amy and Sonic look at each other in concern, “then why do you look so upset?” Amy asks.

“Sonic is an idiot. I finally find a place where we could start fresh. I wanted to make a better world with him. The world he lost, and the one I never had. But he insisted that The Grim wasn’t going anywhere and that he’s needed somewhere else. He said some other really stupid things that I’ve pushed out of my head. So I let him leave.” Nine says, glaring at the ground with such heat it could turn to glass, “if he doesn’t want to stay with me, that’s his problem. If he wants to chase a dream that ridiculous, that’s his problem too.”

The others are quiet. They don’t know what to say. Nine has always been alone, and that sucks. He finally finds someone who likes him, and that someone wants to go back to old times, which also sucks.

Nine sighs “I apologize for killing the mood.”

Amy sits him down in the sand “no, don’t apologize. I believe that talking about our feelings is a good way to heal and get everything out in a healthy way. You’ve been through things I couldn’t even begin to imagine how hard it must’ve been. You’re so young. I don’t know if you need to hear this, but I’m proud of you. I’m proud of you for making it this far.”

Nine looks at her disbelief. What a kind thing to say! He’s gonna cry about this later. “Thanks..” he says. He’s gonna be strong for now.

“Sorry to change the topic, but do you happen to know a version of you with a sick Mohawk?” Knuckles asks. Nine raises an eyebrow “nooo..? A Mohawk? What?” He chuckles a little, finding the thought of him with a mohawk absolutely ridiculous.

Tails laughs “his name was Mangey! He’s another version of us, but he acts like a puppy! He was fun.”

“Maybe I’ll meet him one day.” Nine says.

They hear a large splash in the ocean. A few moments later, Shadow but smaller, drags out a smaller Sonic who’s hacking up water.

“Hhhhahk- Shadow” Sonic coughs “why???”

Shadow drops Sonics arm onto the sand “you wouldn’t show me your fancy hand things.”

“SO YOU PIN ME DOWN UNDER WATER??” Sonic lifts his head up “that’s sick, man!”

Shadow narrows his eyes “want to know what’s sick, Sonic? Destroying our world.”

Sonic goes silent.

Shadow notices the others who are looking upon him in shock.

“Why are there two of you?” Shadow asks.

-TO BE CONTINUED-

[hussyknee]

Every time I see Rumi's poems in English it breaks my heart because they're always from The Essential Rumi by Coleman Barks, a huckster who doesn't even know Persian and mistranslated and erased Islam from them. The West cannot touch anything without warping it beyond recognition and then hawking it all over the globe to line their own pockets.

I know the translations by AJ Arberry and William Chittock are considered a lot more faithful, but I really want to read one by a scholar from Iran or at least the Middle East. I'm so tired of having to talk to communicate with other Global South cultures through the West.

[hasarjunadoneanythingwrong]

*PATIENTLY WAITS FOR THE INDIAN LOSTBELT KING REWRITE FOR YOU*

Concepts I’ve thought about

-theme of lostbelt focusing on ‘guilt and memory’ but like this time more obvious

-something something instead of it being ‘just’ the lokapala arjuna alter is unconsciously trying to recreate his own siblings/family with them, though this means instead of kubera/nezha the ashwins would be used possible w a twin servant, or they’d be moved over to asclepius and someone else would get yama

-lb appears to be stuck in the time right b4 the kurukhestra war, cycling over and over in an effort to ‘prevent’ it despite it already in f having

-ashwatthama actively chooses to join arjuna alters side? Instead of the torture thing, as an exploration/continuation of the theme of ‘guilt,’ deciding to side with the people he hurt even if they’re now in the wrong as well out of a desperate attempt to try and right something that could never be fixed out of a nostalgia for a relationship long lost

-parallels between lakshmi bai giving up her life for her country and the youth of hastinapur giving up theirs for theirs? Idk I just feel like some line could’ve been done. Especially bc she also left a young child behind

-karna being forced to confront what ‘good intentions poor execution’ truly means as he witnesses people he knew and respected become warped beyond recognition, being forced to acknowledge his own role in enabling the conflict, once again having to come to terms with his tendency to enable and prioritize his pride and own desires over his common sense

-by which i mean I’ve considered subbing out karna alter over douman just bc it would be funny to have the more og text canon warhawk karna see some fucked up arjuna and be like ‘hey you should keep doing that :)’ while his lancer version is in the bg like ‘bruh’

- focus on the repetitive nature of the cycles, how and why they were reset, what that meant for arjuna alter’s psyche. Really hammer in the increasing isolation and disconnect, and the growing agitation as the inherent nature of humans prevented a world with no conflict no matter what he did or how hard he tried. Talk about what happened to his family and the other gods, and the thousands of years ago. Do a this chair monologue idk something

-parallels between arjuna alter and Asha as people who’s families were torn apart, who struggle to conceptualize their grief as they can’t even remember it. Let them talk at some point.

-look if rama comes into the lostbelt asking about his wife you can at least superimpose her sprite in the sky at the end after arjuna alter dies and have her be like ‘cool I’m not mixed w 400 other gods now. Sorry I can’t hang love you bby xoxo’ like cmon

- I want to see arjuna alter get MAD. Make him cry and scream about how unfair it all is it’s bullshit that it was karna. I want him to rail again the unfairness of having to kill your kin, of how no matter how much you destroy it will never create peace, of how the world he was in was destined to head to a bloody war, just SOMETHING

-let us run koyanskya over w the shadowborder. For fun

-if we have to endure kiara’s 400 hour buddhism monologue then can’t rama explain some like, basic aspects of Hindu theology to us. Why hasn’t that happened yet. Huh?

- you know how the boss fights from Greece-> onwards have their name in that countries’s script? Yeah something in like Sanskrit for here pls

-let us have an actual dialogue w arjuna alter

-let us actually see douman and arjuna alter interact.

-idk fuckin uhhh if Krishna was the guy who allegedly junao was able to absorb everyone through can we like. See what his deal is? In a flashback? Please?

-mention gilgamesh flies his vimana wrong for me. personally

-have a third party who knew arjuna who isn’t karna/ashwa/biased there to talk about what he was like. Idk Bhisma drona someone just let us see more facets of him so we can understand how he got to this state

-hammer in the memory issues. Hammer in the fact arjuna alter’s body is breaking down around him, held together only by force of will. Hammer in the fact he is willing to die to try and save everyone. Really get that beaten in there.

-for me personally given that hindusim features reincarnation heavily it would be nice to at least acknowledge most of the people deleted are probably reentering the samsara (only enlightened people exit the cycle which a flawed being can’t be). He hasn’t necessarily abandoned these people even if he’s treating them wrong.

[iobartach]

@viralesmater asked: ❛  what do you want from me?  ❜

The day had started off on promising footing. After much trial and error, he had finally acquired a lead on the whereabouts of his target... or rather, the final bits of their remains, the fruits of efforts that had spanned at least a week in duration. What had meant to be a simple mission capture and recover an anomaly had quickly devolved into chaos when, upon Miguel's arrival into this dimension, so proudly home to a hellish, festering version of New York, something unexpected happened.

He witnessed the anomaly's murder.

Instinctively, he tried to prevent it, and was fully geared to leap headlong into the fray, until he saw the creatures responsible. Truly monsters in every sense of the definition, they had large, vaguely humanoid forms that were mutated beyond the point of recognition, a pack three-strong had set themselves upon the one he ideally wish to have kept alive, for the sake of canon. His mind scrambling to create a Plan B, any concerns he felt towards this loss took an immediate backseat, when he watched as the creatures, whom he had since learned to call Hunters, ran off with the spoils of their kill, to parts unknown.

In the time since, he had scrambled to gather information, balancing his time between trying not to get devoured himself, whilst also evading a more manmade form of threat; the military. Whilst small change in comparison to the private police force he was used to weaving weblines around back home, back in his vigilante days, he still preferred wishing to avoid an encounter with them at all cost, deciding instead to take his chances with the Infected.

A choice that he would later come to regret.

With the end of his journey in sight, Miguel had tracked down the current location of his anomaly devourers, thanks in part to the aid of a new ally, if he could even call her that. Regardless, getting antsy to go home, Miguel had dropped down in the centre of the Hunter's nest-- and let loose, letting his claws flash as he ripped and tore his way through the body of the hunters, not once holding back.

The carnage had begun and gone within a matter of minutes, leaving only himself remaining as the last one standing. His chest heaving rapidly, he held his fangs filled mouth wide open, sucking in great gulps as he waited for his pulse to gradually slow down, and the ringing in his ears to clear. With his mind preoccupied with these tasks, he skipped checking if the Hunters were deceased in favour of scouting for the anomaly's remains at his own peril, for, as he began to search, picking through the scraps and bones of previous meals, something stirred to his immediate left, growling with the terrible thunder of a wounded, but not defeated beast.

Snapping his head around at such a sound, Miguel was afforded a few meagre seconds of thought before the Hunter hurled itself upon him, knocking him onto his back. The creature's jaws were snapping dangerously shut, only to be opened again, a millimetre or so closer to his own neck. Fighting to fend him off, when he tried to reach around for a better grip on the Hunter's neck, it lurched forward -- and struck, sinking ebony-black incisors into his shoulder just below a major artery in the neck, turning what could've been a fatal strike into something far, far worse.

Left with little choice, Miguel, gritting his teeth, let a roar of defiance escape from his chest as, sinking his talons into the Hunter's neck, he dug in and sawed sideways, drenching himself with more of the creature's infected blood. If by now, his own unique make-up had somehow possessed an immunity against the pathogen that had warped the creature so thoroughly, then the spilling of its blood into the wound that was now present upon his shoulder was surely going to guarantee he became infected.

¡Por el amor de Dios!

Letting his mind began to register this frightening new reality, he chose to draw comfort from what he knew. He'd been through this once before, he had fixed his own genetic material to purge himself of a crippling addiction. He could do so again.

Maybe.

Pressing himself into an upright position, his conviction was already under fire, wavering as he felt a flush of heat rise within him, coating his brow, to infection flooding every drop of his blood.

If he was to have any chance of beating this and finding a cure, then he needed to locate Greene, and quickly.

[chongoblog]

yo dude since ur talking abt dhmis so much id love to know ur thoughts on this: it seems like if u read into the original themes and motifs of the web series dhmis its telling you that corporate interference with art ultimately destroys and warps it beyond recognition - the horror is what the the guy managing the program is doing to the red guy’s original idea for a show. now when i heard that they were making dhmis into a tv program……… it made me feel SOME kind of way. like im so excited theres more and admittedly i havent watched it yet so idk if they cover it but theres a huge layer of crazy irony there isnt there???

I think that while "corporate interference with art ultimately warps it" is very much a theme you could get from it, I don't really think that's the MAIN theme of it. I think it sort of focuses specifically on programming for children, juxtaposing it with not only the concept of "programming for children" but also the society we live in today, and how it might affect them moving forward as they become adults (but again, that's just a different interpretation)

I think that making it a full on TV show does have a level of irony to it, but I also think that from what I've seen, their vision APPEARS to be mostly unimpeded for this show (at least thats how it looks from my POV. I have no way of knowing myself)

[perilegs]

I am normal about your characters so

10,14 and 23 for Nøkk

1 and 3 for Ati

and 17 for Anode >:3

ahh thank you! i'm also very normal about them 😌 (asks here)

Nøkk:

10. What's an AU that would be interesting to explore with your OC? This is a bit basic but companion au!! Obviously he's got the whole dark urge thing going on when it comes to his personal quest, but I'd like to explore other aspects of it, like what sorts of things he would tell of himself, how would his romance be? Are there things that would make him leave the party and so on!

14. How does your OC want to be seen by other characters? Nøkk is so very particular when it comes to how others perceive him, especially at the beginning of his journey. Ideally, he'd like people to think he's a fun, charming guy, with a sexy amount of mystery to him. Despite that, after a long time, he does come around to enjoying those close to him (and ONLY those close to him) seeing through him.

23. What emotion is the hardest for your OC to process? How about express? All of them. He's been bottling every emotion besides bitching and moaning since the dawn of time. No but if i had to pick one, I'd say he has a hard time processing his fear. I know I talk a lot about him being so very afraid of everything and being at the brink of a panic attack a lot of the time, but that doesn't mean it's easy for him to process. It just fills up his mind and leaves no room for thinking about it, or, well, anything. For expression it has to be love. He can imply that he loves someone, but he'd die before explicitly expressing it.

Ati:

1. What memory would your OC rather just forget? What happened with Tamlen is one of the most traumatic things Ati has gone through. The vision of him touching the mirror never to be seen again keeps Ati up at night, she can't help but wonder if there was something she could have done. But as awful losing him and having to live without knowing what really happened to him for a while was, seeing him as a darkspawn haunts Ati. At least she got some closure after having to kill his husk of a body, but she wishes she'd never laid eyes on it in the first place. It's better to know, but it would have been far better to know without having to see the face of your best friend sick and warped beyond recognition. Ati wants to remember Tamlen how he was, not his husk.

3. What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw? Ati's story isn't really a tragedy, but the common element in all of her downfalls has been having hope. It's a beautiful thing and keeps Ati going, but in some cases, it also eats her alive. She knows the taint will take her in 30 or so years. Yet a big part of her believes she'll overcome this. It's hard to put things to rest when you have hope.

Anode:

17. What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise? Making Anode find out her right hand, her most trusted person, was the one who betrayed her that fateful night (getting tadpoled night). All this time she's had this worm in her head, the mere image of Ion has been enough to make Ati trust someone. She feels beyond betrayed. Stabbing Anode in the heart and twisting the knife would cause less agony. But, that's not bad enough on it's own, so I'm also making Anode have to stand face to face with Ion in an environment she's not allowed to blow up in, where she has to remain calm, cool, and collected. Where she can't show a single emotion. She wants to blow up and explode sending sparks all around her and yell and rage. She wants to take Ion's hand in hers and ask her a million questions. She wants to break down and sob. But the show must go on and such.