#but instead she metaphorically is BACK to the top but differently

[darknoverse]

i'm normal about them btw haha (biggest lie told yet )

yea no fr i ADORE their dynamic i love them so much they're both gonna make eachother WORSE /aff

btw very proud of the bg , i finally figured out which brushes give the show vibe yipeeeee

[enchantedflameandflower]

billy teaching his girl how to smoke a cig would be so attractive

I feel like maybe they would go out to a bar or something and in like a tipsy confession she says “i’ve never smoked” or something like that ”idk how to smoke properly im always coughing its so embarrassing blah blah blah”

Need my man to guide me through it

Billy x you! Nsfw 18+ only for smoking, smut, piv, creampie, hint of exhibitionism

Thank you SO MUCH for this ask anon! Once I got the idea for the vibe it just took off. Hope you all enjoy!

~

It’s late, almost midnight, and you’re sitting up on the roof of your apartment building with Butcher and a cold bottle of beer each. The air is a little chilly but not bad and no one else seems to ever come up here so it’s nice. You’d met Butcher at the bar but it had been crowded and annoying so you’d invited him back to your place. 

The building seems to be mostly made up of elderly people but you love it. They’re kind and quiet and you love being able to help them when they need. The random baked goods you receive from time to time don’t hurt either. There’s one old lady specifically that Billy has charmed completely. He’s definitely got her wrapped around his little finger, that one. 

And you enjoy the quiet at night. You’re sitting cross-legged on a sort of concrete platform on top of the roof that’s at the perfect height. Billy is sitting next to you, his big booted feet planted on the ground of the roof.

You can’t help glancing over at him, and you know affection is shining in your eyes but you can’t help it and you don’t care. You’d started this sort of friends with benefits casual thing a couple months ago but you were falling for him hard and you knew it. Yeah, he was rough around the edges, really rough, but there was so much more to him and you had never cared what anyone else thought. 

And damn if he wasn’t the sexiest thing you’d ever seen. Tall, dark and brooding as fuck. 

“I thought you quit,” you murmur, nodding toward the cigarette he’s puffing lazily next to you. 

He smirks. “I did. Don’t know what ‘cher talkin’ ‘bout.” He takes another drag then holds it out toward you.

You pause for a second but then you take it between your fingers. “I always feel like I’m not doing it right…” you half joke. “And then I just cough.”

Billy looks at you. “All this time on planet ‘earf and ya don’t know how to smoke proper? It ain’t that hard, love…” He grins mischievously. “Just wrap those pretty lips ‘round and suck. But slowly, not too much. An’ let it out slow like, too.”

You nod, pursing your lips around the cigarette but Billy scoots closer immediately. 

“Not so tight, love, relax. Little more slack…ya know, like how ya move your lips when me cock’s slidin’ in.”

You’re immediately pulling the cigarette out of your mouth as your cheeks flush. “Butcher!” 

He just grins and inches back on the platform before he tugs on your wrist, pulling you to sit in his lap and guiding your hand back up. “Try again.”

You try not to think about how good his hard thighs feel beneath you and put the end of the cigarette up to your lips but let it rest there between the two instead of gripping it. You take a slow inhale in, and then slowly blow it out again, watching as the swirl of white smoke drifts gently away. 

Butcher squeezes your hip. “There ya are, doll, see?” he grins, his dimple showing and you know he’s thinking his metaphor is what made all the difference.

“You’re a menace,” you murmur, handing the cigarette back to him. 

Butcher takes a long drag, then after a moment lets go. The thick smoke curls out from his full lips and between the both of you as he exhales. There’s something so fucking sexy about the way he does it and the glimmer in his eyes as he catches you looking at him. He continues to exhale, the smoke kissing your mouth. You breathe it in, swearing you can taste him on it. 

Holding the cigarette up to your mouth again, Butcher watches as you pull lightly and his dark hazel eyes go even darker with heat.

The look makes you squirm in his lap and his big hand clenches your waist. “Ya keep that up and I’m gonna end up takin’ ya right here on this concrete,” he threatens - promises? - a low husk to his voice now. 

Yeah…the thought of that and his gruff tone make you wet for him immediately. It’s been a couple weeks since the last time you slept together and suddenly now you need him so much it hurts. 

He must be able to tell by the look on your face because the corner of his mouth lifts in a wicked smirk. “Ya like that idea, dontcha doll?” 

“Maybe…” you murmur and he tsks at you. He gives you the cigarette and you hold it up to your mouth again as his hand slips down between your thighs. Your leggings and your thin underwear do next to nothing to shield your already throbbing clit from his rough fingers.

He presses in firmly, rubbing his fingertips in a little circle, and his smile widens. “I can already tell, hot and slick for me, aren’t ya.”

Two can play this game, you think. Leaning forward, you bite his full lower lip and he growls, sliding his hand in your hair and tugging you close to capture your mouth fully with his. He tastes like cigarettes and beer and something uniquely him, masculine and rich.  

His tongue slides over yours, hot and possessive and it turns your insides to jelly, somehow making you want him even more when you thought you were already at the max. You moan into his kiss as his tongue strokes into your mouth. The sensation makes you shiver, your center throbbing for him, clenching around nothing. How you wish he was already buried inside you. Butcher holds you closer against him and only breaks the kiss when you push at his chest, gasping softly for air. 

His eyes are dark with need and his gaze is intense. His eyes flick to your lips and you know they must be swollen and pink from his kiss. Your breath is still coming in little pants but you panic a little under his steady stare.

“What?” you ask, a little scared of the answer, but the look in his eyes is making you think crazy stupid things that couldn’t possibly be real, you had to be dreaming…

“Ya don’t even know how bloody gorgeous you are, do ya?” he husks. 

“I - ” you swallow, your muddled brain trying to make sense of what he was saying. Fuck. His hand is still pressed between your thighs and you groan as he shifts you closer. The motion presses his thick knuckle right against your cunt.

“Fuck Billy…need you, please…” you gasp, wriggling against his hand, your eyes fluttering closed.

You don’t want to wait to go back downstairs, you don’t want to wait another second, you want him right here, right now out in the open air, all of his teasing way too much to bear. You’ll beg for it if you have to.

But you don’t. 

Billy is moving the instant you stop speaking. He lets go of you to strip his battered old coat off and you squeak, throwing your arms around his neck, the cigarette still between your fingers, to keep from getting dumped right off his lap.

He tosses his coat on the cement next to you then reaches down to pull your shoes off, before standing and flipping you over to lay you down across his coat. 

“Such a gentleman,” you tease, smiling up at him from your prone position. The cement is still cold and hard beneath you and his coat, but you don’t care and you know you’ll appreciate the lack of cement burn in the morning. 

“Oi, when am I not?” he grins devilishly  and before you can answer he’s pulling your leggings down your long legs, and everything else with them, stripping you bare from the waist down.

He catches your gaze, then his big hand slides from your hip to your side, pushing your shirt up. He bends down to nip and bite at your stomach then drags his mouth over your skin, beard tickling and rubbing, until he reaches your breasts. You wiggle and arch to help him push your shirt and bra up the rest of the way under your arms until you’re naked from your tits down, spread out for him on the cement platform in the night air.

“You’re a fuckin’ sight, ain’t ya,” he rumbles, his eyes taking their fill of you as his rough hands smooth over your body and the chilled air licks at all your naked skin. “Think anyone can see?” He glances up to the right of you, at a taller building next to this one that clearly has lights in some of the windows. 

You whimper, squirming and closing your eyes. “Oh god…” you breathe. 

“Splayed out naked, out in the open here and practically beggin’ for me,” he hums.

“Billy,” you gasp. You aren’t sure if you want to just hurry up and get it over with or if you’re actually going to explode with pent up lust but either way you need him to fuck you now.

Billy seems to acquiesce and he palms your breast, tugging at your tight nipple with one hand while the other undoes his buckle and the button of his jeans. 

He takes the cigarette out of your hand and puts it back in his mouth, holding it with his teeth and taking another long puff as he unzips his jeans, pushing them just low enough on his hips so his thick cock can spring free. He flicks the cigarette aside on the cement then uses both hands to tug on your hips, pulling you to the edge. 

“Fuck…Billy,” you groan as he slots his swollen length against your slick cunt and presses your thighs further part then starts to push in. 

“Don’t need to tell me twice…” he rumbles. 

You stretch for him as he slides inside you, but he’s so big and you have to take a breath to relax enough to take him all the way. 

“So fuckin’ tight,” he groans in a gruff voice, and he shifts to slip his thumb over your clit to help ease his way inside. 

The moment the tip of his thumb circles the slick, tight bud, pleasure bursts inside of you and he thrusts all the way in, filling you up. 

It’s so good. You cry out loud, then quickly lift your hand to cover your mouth and muffle the sound but Billy grabs your wrist, pulling your arm away. “N‘uh…need to hear ya, love. Need to know how much you need my cock…”

“Everyone will…hear…” you whimper as he thrusts inside you again. 

“Won’t know it’s you, doll. Let them listen. Let them hear how good my cock makes you feel…”

All you can do is moan as he thrusts again and then again, his fingers teasing at your stiff nipple and then your clit again, driving you mad, always knowing where to go next. But you need more, you need all of him. 

“Harder…please…Billy…” you moan, clenching around his cock as he buries it deep, gripping the edges of his coat with your fingers. 

“Tha’s my good girl,” Butcher growls, thrusting harder and picking up his speed, hitting that perfect spot inside of you over and over.

You’re crying out with each deep thrust now and you don’t care who hears. When you wrap your legs around his hips, he leans down and presses against you, catching your shoulders and holding on as he groans against the curve of your neck. You can feel the vibration from his chest just as he thrusts, hitting every nerve ending on the way. It makes you cry out loud again, desperate and wanton. The sound echoes off the brick walls, making you blush harder as the pleasure of it zings straight to your clit. Fuck why does it turn you on even more…and it’s so annoying how quiet he can be even when he’s making you crazy. 

After another moment though, all thought leaves your mind and all you know is how fucking good Billy feels as you balance on the knife edge of bliss. The base of his cock pushes right against your clit as he gives one last hard thrust and then starts to pulse deep inside of you. It’s more than enough to make you come too. You’re crying out his name before you can stop yourself in choked moans and gasps that can definitely be heard in the next building as your body shudders in overwhelming pleasure.

Butcher slumps against you as he finishes emptying himself in your body and you curl your arms around his neck, your cunt still fluttering around him as the waves of pleasure from your climax only slowly start to abate.

The cigarette lays forgotten going cold beside you as he finally pushes himself up and tucks his cock away. You can still feel his come leaking out of you, mixed with yours, warm and sticky on your thighs but you can’t even find the energy to cover yourself.

When he starts to slide your clothes back on for you, you make a little noise, tiredly protesting at the mess still between your legs, but he hums and shakes his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that smirk he has with a glint in his hazel eyes. “Have to wait ‘til we get back down to your flat, love. You like it, dontcha? Feelin’ what ya made me do?” he adds, his voice still gruff and low with sex. 

You make a sound of resignation but it is kind of hot, his small possessive way of marking and claiming you. You’re his.

When he has your bottom half dressed again, he grabs your hand and tugs you up, helping you pull your bra and shirt back in to place. You feel completely boneless and blissed out, and you quirk your lips in a half smile as you look up at him. “Fuck Billy…” you whisper. 

He chuckles softly and pulls you close against his broad chest in a hug, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get ya back inside and practice some more with that pretty mouth o’ yours, love, eh? Need ya too much.”

~*~*~ Thanks again anon, hope you like! Also thanks to @butchersdarkbird for letting me chat about it, @shirley-girly for giving me the perfect idea for a line for Billy on her reblog of a previous post and @dwinchesterspie1967 for the idea of including extra of his devilish smirk ❤️

@jynx15 @kus-babygirl @weallhaveadestiny @karlurbanism

@dustie-faerie @violent-darkness @bohemianblasphemy

karl urban masterlist

[alotofpockets]

Eyes don't lie | Reneé Rapp

Pairing: Reneé Rapp x Reader

Prompt: "We're just friends." & "Are you joking? She looks at you like you are her whole world."

Masterlist | Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1k

Reneé carried her songwriting notebook everywhere, so that any time she had a lyrical idea, she could write it down immediately. She was very private with this notebook, she only ever showed the pages she allowed others to see. Alyah was one of the many people that was curious about what the girl was hiding in her notes, and couldn’t help herself when she saw the notebook laying on the piano at Reneé’s house. Reneé herself was on a call in the other room, so there was no one to stop her. 

“So…” Alyah starts. “You and y/n then, huh?” Reneé rolls her eyes, “We’re just friends, Alyah.” At that point Alyah can’t hold her laughter any longer. “My sweet friend, you have a whole page in your notebook praising the things that you love about them, and you’ve written love songs about them. Why are you keeping all of this in your notebook? You should tell them how you feel.” 

She opens the notebook and finds the lyrics to a few released songs, looking over those quickly, because she was looking for things that she hadn’t seen or heard before. The next few pages consist of half written songs with many crossed out sentences. A few pages further she found the reason why Reneé hid the notebook from everyone.

A page with your picture in the middle, surrounded by a bunch of words. Alyah read through some of them, kind, beautiful, smart, funny. She felt on top of the world just finding the proof that her friend indeed had a crush on you, even though she had denied it time and time again. The following pages were filled with sappy love songs, Alyah was reading through some of them when the notebook was snatched out of her hand. Her eyes widened, she was caught. “Alyah Chanelle Scott, you know this is private!” Alyah knows she was supposed to feel guilty but instead she was just trying her hardest not to break out in laughter. 

Reneé knows exactly why she hasn’t shared her feelings with you but she goes with the easy answer. “She doesn’t feel the same way about me, so there is no use.” Alyah looks at her friend, "Are you joking? She looks at you like you are her whole world." The blond shakes her head, “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” While shaking her head Alyah reassures Reneé that that is not the case. “Eyes don’t lie.” 

She plops down on the couch next to Alyah. She knew now, so she might as well confide in her best friend. “She's my whole world too.” Alyah mumbles a “Clearly” which received her a shove to the upper arm. “As I was saying, she's my whole world too but relationships always end badly for me, and I do not want to lose her.” Alyah turns more serious in her response, “But what if this one will be different? What if everything will work out but you never tried?”

After hours of talking, Alyah managed to convince Reneé to confess her feelings to you. She wanted this for her best friend, and of course she really thought that you would reciprocate the feelings, seeing as you’re always walking around with metaphorical heart eyes whenever Reneé was around. Together they brainstormed ways to tell you. 

The next day you came over to hang out, like you had planned for weeks now. Reneé seemed rather quiet but you decided to let the woman be for a bit, knowing that she knew you were there for her and she could always talk to you.

“Hey, so I wrote this new song and I was wondering if I could play it for you.” She started, that nervous look making its way back onto her face. Reneé had asked you to listen to songs she wrote before but never before had you seen her this nervous about sharing a song. You figured that maybe it was a very personal song. “Yeah, I would love to hear it, I always love hearing you sing.” You say with a big smile. Alyah would probably say she could see hearts in your eyes in this moment as well.

“Before I start, I want to say something. But can you please hold any response until I finish the song?” You nod, “Of course.” Reneé sits down and takes a deep breath. “I wrote this song for you.” Your heart starts to race, she wrote a song for you? No comments until the end of the song though, so you just patiently waited for her to start playing the song. 

She started playing the keys, and you already thought the intro was beautiful. You start blushing when she starts singing, the lyrics giving away that it wasn’t just a song, but that it was a love song. She sang about falling for someone, falling for you. Now you understood why she was nervous. After she played the outro she placed her hands down into her lap, taking a deep breath before she would face you. You noticed how nervous she still was, so you walked her way, and sat down next to her on the piano bench. 

The usually so confident Reneé now was a nervous mess, and you found it absolutely adorable. You smile and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes finally meet yours, she’s searching for any kind of reaction in them. Your hand lingers on her cheek, your thumb gently rubbing over her cheek. The longer you looked at each other the more both of your smiles grew. Reneé seemed to find the reaction she was looking for in your eyes as she started slowly leaning in to kiss you. The hand that was resting on her cheek made its way to the back of her neck as you pulled her in the rest of the way, your lips meeting in a long and soft kiss.

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[adnauseum11]

Avenue of Approach (John Price x Reader)

Kate tries to pick up where she left off. John plays developments in your relationship close to the vest.

less than 1k words

CW: reference to oral sex

feedback welcome

It takes Kate almost half the night before she can pinpoint what’s different about John. Which annoys her. Which in turn throws her game off. Which annoys her even further when John wins the pot that evening and sticks around to count it out slowly, mirthful in his victory. She decides to exact some vengeance and sharpens her metaphorical blade on his thick skin. 

“Took a while but it finally dawned on me what’s different about you tonight. You might be in the best mood I’ve seen in a year or two, John.”

“mm…depends on which year or two you’re referring to, I suppose.” He says by way of agreement, tapping a small stack of bills into order against the table top. 

“Got anything to do with your lady-friend from last time? Get things, er…moving in the right direction?” Kate asks, having had enough whiskey while sitting around waiting for the game to end to feel braver than she ought.

John tucks his chin into his chest and looks up at Kate with his brows raised, assessing. A familiar look of disapproval slowly settles in to his features. 

“Are you asking to be a friend or to be a sore loser?” John pokes back, nailing Kate in her soft underbelly. Their friendship, hard fought and well tested, a vulnerability for them both. 

His response confirms her earlier suspicions, no matter his half-assed denial. Kate knows him well, and won’t be swayed from her assessment of the situation easily. She’s happy to watch him try, though. 

“John, please. You’re leaving with all my spending cash for the rest of the week, at least cough up some details.”

The corners of John’s mouth twitch as he fights off a smile, his face mellowing again. He can’t summon the energy to be cagey with Laswell, simply in too good of a mood to act otherwise.  

“What did you want to know?” He’s humouring her, tucking the wad of cash that is his winnings into the inner pocket of his jacket.      

“Surely you’ve got her to agree to do more than just kiss you by now?” Kate’s nursing the end of a whiskey, spinning it in her hands while she waits for John to answer. 

“We’re taking it slow, but yes.” He doesn’t elaborate and Kate’s smart enough, even drunk, to not stray further down that avenue. John has to physically start a task or he’ll starting reminiscing about eating his love out on her couch the other night. Her delectable thighs wrapped around his head were not enough to muffle her keening cry when she came on his face and fingers. He starts picking up the playing cards and facing them in the same direction, keeping his hands busy and his brain preoccupied. It works and stymies the beginnings of an erection. Kate’s prying works wonders as an ice bath, too.   

“Thought you’ve known her a long time, why take it slow? Don’t know her well enough yet? Do you think maybe another 20 years ought to do it?” The drink is making Kate mouthy, something she’ll regret tomorrow. 

“Piss off, Laswell. She’s scared to lose something we’ve had for a long time.” John stacks the cards on the table and crosses his arms over his chest.

“How did you two meet?” Kate tries a different tack, asking for details from the past instead of the present. It works, as much as anything ever works on John. 

“She was dating a mate of mine for a while before I shipped out. By the time I got back on my first leave they had broken up.” He kept the fact that his mate had taken to harassing and intimidating her, and that John had broken the lad’s cheekbone convincing him to leave her alone, to himself. Going forward he’d dropped the mate and kept tabs on the pretty bird. He’d yet to regret that choice. 

“And you didn’t get an opportunity to ask her out in the last two decades?” Kate is the embodiment of skeptical. 

“No.” John deadpanned, shutting down that line of questioning. He watched Laswell sulk into her whiskey for a moment.

The truth was, he’d had a front row seat to half of her life. His line of work, and being away as much as he was with no guarantee of return was too much. He knew it would kill a fledgling relationship with her quickly. She didn’t have the temperament for long periods alone, and John didn’t have the heart to ask it of her. He’d promised himself that if he made it to retirement, if she was single by some stroke of luck, he would finally do something about the feelings he’d been harbouring. The rest, as they say, was history.    

Recent history. It had been enough, once upon a time, to know she was out there, doing well in the world. Made it easier to leave, to know it was ultimately keeping her safe, what he did in the shadows. Now, selfish man that he was, he couldn’t sit and watch and have it be enough. He needed more; from her, from their relationship. He was willing to go slow, and like a starving man brought to a feast, it was probably wiser to do so.

“If you’re done, Kate? I’ve got somewhere else to be.” 

He pushed back from the table, swinging his coat over his shoulders smoothly. He gave Kate a smirk on his way past, just to rile her up and was gratified to see it working.

Good. Nosy git. 

[thr0wnawayy]

A Waste of Air (Why Inasa Sucks as a Character)

Reasoning

Boring quirk (wasted potential, uncreative)

Wind powers are so underutilized and Inasa's is no different. It effectively amounts to 'what Hellflame does but worse'.

Whereas Enji at least has some (albeit very limited) control over the form of his fire and where it comes from his body, Inasa can only move wind around in a spiral and also use it to propell himself.

His existance only serves to be a hindrance and an obstacle both to the plot and to the characters

Literally only exists as an obstacle to Shouto, backtracking on Shoto's previous growth just so Bakugo (authors pet-cough) won't fail alone.

His introduction downplays Momo's accomplishments and skill. Taking her top spot in the Recommendation Exam by turning it into a technicality because he raged quit. (she isn't even in the flashback)

His stupid backstory.

His backstory is so fucking contrived that I almost don't want to even bother going into it.

Firstly, his reaction to Shoto's demeanor is so disproportionate that it's pathetic

Oh boo hoo, your idol was mean to you. Yeah that would work, with anyone but Shouto. It's veery similar to the Hitoshi problem. Where he bases his opinion about something/someone he knows nothing about.

Telling Shoto he's 'just like his father' is probably the worst thing you can tell him.

Secondly, He takes Shoto's reaction/rejection in the worst way possible. If what Enji had done or said had been more severe, then his reaction would be understandable as a trauma response.

However why don't we look at what Enji said:

Presumably he knocked Inasa out of the way, while an incredibly unprofessional and cruel thing to do and say (especially to a child who just wants an autograph). It does not justify his reaction towards Shoto after the entrance exam nor at the licensing exam.

It doesn't justify him throwing away his spot at UA like a child.

And it certainly doesn't justify Inasa antagonizing him in the middle of an exam!

It makes Isana come off as short sighted and inconsiderate, ironically the very same way he views Enji and (because he can't or won't differentiate the two) Shoto.

How I would Write Them

I'm not just going to sit here and moan about how lacking Hori's writing can be at times, no.

I'm going to do something about it.

Genderbend (or trans that gender)

This show is in desperate need of female characters getting the spotlight and being allowed to show their skills.

Change her backstory to emphasize Enji's sexism:

Basically she goes up to Enji after a villain arrest and excitedly tells him about how she's a fan and has been practicing very hard. She creates a decently sized tornado in her palm to show him (not much bigger than a canteen)

He then scoffs dismissively (almost snickering at her) and says something like: "Someone of your constitution would never make it to the top, stay out of the way girl and let the heroes handle it"

he glares at her before walking off with his back turned to her.

He then tosses her notebook back behind his back, burning it's corner in the process by his careless quirk use

(bonus points if the flame is snuffed via landing in a puddle, showing how her dreams were metaphorically "put out".)

Have Shoto's (unintentional) attitude remind her of Enji's insult (by dismissing her accomplishment of besting him [while still losing to Momo)

Make her resemble Rei (but not be related):

Adding another layer of connection and trauma for Shoto.

Have him seek her out instead and make her want nothing to do with him (at least at first, with the exam later forcing them to work together and gain a mutal understanding)

Upgrade her powers to something besides (Wind go wooosh).

This could be anything, personally I'd make it varied, like she's able to both mimic Air Walk and Air Cannon but can also fly around, create tornadoes and even create air pockets. Thus showing her growth and efforts.

I will say this again, Pro. Hero. Family, Make her a legacy kid. Show just how biased Hero Society can be towards those with Heroic ties.

Don't toss her after the arc is done, keep her appearances consistent, yet spaced out.

Have her appear after the Licensing Exam, highlight both 1A's growth by having her grow with them.

I would also merge the remedial course with the Licensing Exam as a sort of second portion that involves showing restraint and kindness, as well as problem solving and situation awareness in a domestic setting.

Showing that heroism is or should be more than just "punch harder, punch with feeling".

Lastly here's the design I came up with and a little information to boot.

(nothing fancy just a head and a 3rd quarter sketch, no Hero costume yet)

Isana Yaorashi, Kanji: 勇渚 (勇: brave, strong, resolute. 渚 ripple or wave (used here as a substitute for "wave" of air) also used to represent the "ripples" Enji's insult had on her life and the she impressions that she leaves on others)

Legacy Child, comes from a long line of heroes, though her parents were not about that life. Her grandfather is the one who recommended her for UA and later Shiketsu: Yoroi Musha.

Holds an intense grudge against Endeavor for his sexism and his careless/cruel tendencies. Isana wishes to show the world that "heat" isn't what makes a hero.

Personality: Very intense, a fighter to her core. Isana seldomly backs down from a challenge, however she's more than willing to push that aside to help someone in need.

Applied for both U.A and Shiketsu in advance, left due to Shoto's attitude being to remincent of an encounter she had with Endeavor's true face during her childhood.

Placed Second in the Recommendation Exam at U.A then dominated Shiketsu's Entrance Exam with a total of 100 points!.

Probably got into fights alot as a kid. Probably for good reason too.

[lazycranberrydoodles]

hi i don't know if i have questions specifically but want you to know i'm obsessed with your transfem hua cheng and he xuan and that it's super meaningful to me to see other people doing transfem characters and headcanons and I love to see it and love your art so much too so thank you for doing that!!!

yw!!!

hua cheng and he xuan have such interesting relationships to their bodies and powers. to me, trans headcanons not only acknowledge their complex identities within the text, but also add a layer of meaning. plus i just love drawing and writing girls.

more of my thoughts on trans & tfem huaxuan below.

⚠️warnings for: mention of transphobia, canon typical violence, tgcf spoilers⚠️

hua cheng is incredibly metaphorically trans. being born under the star of solitude with a cursed eye, he spent his childhood enduring abuse and covering up his face. (one thing that especially sticks with me for a transmasculine headcanon is that he is smaller than expected for a 10 year old, canonically due to malnutrition). still, he snuck into the army out of a sense of duty (re: tmasc hc, i believe he lied about both his age and his gender to enlist). however, to become crimson rain sought flower, instead of harming others, he wrenches the source of his pain (his eye) out of his body with his own hands. once he removes his eye, instead of dying like a weaker spirit would have, he becomes much more powerful and starts forging an identity for himself. his self-mutilation doesn't just free him from the burden of his cursed eye; he eventually claims blood as his signature. for his whole life, hua cheng has been injured and beaten, but after tong'lu, blood becomes a symbol of his power. his blood rain shows that he does not shy away from brutality and that he feels at home within violence.

this is why i'm always talking about hua cheng's DIY top surgery within the kiln. hua cheng carved up his own body in a way that massively empowered him. he reclaims violence as his own natural habitat, rather than something he has been forced to endure. i think this is very transgender; transphobic rhetoric often labels medical transition as mutilation, but to many of us, that is how we become our true selves. it is a tool to make us stronger.

hua cheng's story is about self-determination. despite his circumstances, he was able to literally brute force fate and luck into his favor with the power of his devotion. i also like to read ghost city (and hua cheng's other miscellaneous acts of good) as a metaphor for disability. to the public, it's dangerous and sinful, but in actuality it is hua cheng's way of 'saving the common people'. ghost city provides safe haven for the undead and their wares, making both the mortal and ghost realms safer. the traditional channel for serving believers is from heaven, but hua cheng forged his own path and refused to take part in its corrupt system. he has a radically different approach to executing his goals, so he is excommunicated and misunderstood outside of the vilified community that he provides a home for (the ghost city residents).

it's important to me that hua cheng is trans -- whether in hualian or hualesbians -- because her story revolves around forging her own path, turning the parts of her body that she hated into sources of power, and defining herself (SHE NAMED HERSELF FLOWER CITY!!!). as a spirit, she hangs around because she wants to be the best version of herself: not out of self-love, but because she is a means to an end (the end being xie lian's will).

beefleaf are literally genderfluid in the text. i personally read shi qingxuan as a trans woman rather than genderfluid because she is 1) more powerful as a woman and 2) does it for fun -- being a woman brings her joy. she begrudgingly turns back into a man when her brother tells her she needs to be more proper. additionally, she was raised as a girl and -- iirc -- doesn't have a problem with this.

he xuan, in addition switching back and forth between male and female forms, also has a very trans narrative. they were literally forced to live the wrong life. his power, similarly to hua cheng's, also comes from their body (eating other ghosts). however, hers is additive. she, to me, is the type of trans person that doesn't see their transition as a loss of anything, only a gain (hua cheng, on the other hand, enthusiastically lost his weakened past self). hua cheng killed the girl he used to be, while he xuan morphed into an unrecognizable, more powerful version of herself. hua cheng purposefully built his ideal self, while he xuan strayed from her AGAB more passively.

i don't think that he xuan would crossdress with shi qingxuan if she didn't want to. even if that was the case, i think their woman-sona is very developed for a guy that reportedly doesn't like it. in my headcanon, she is still in denial by the end of the novel. i think that both his love for shi qingxuan AND the unsettling feeling of gender dysphoria would keep him from dissipating. my final and silliest reason for headcanoning he xuan as nonbinary tfem is that she eats a ton because she's on estrogen and is trying to gain boob weight.

tl;dr: trans women can accumulate power by cutting out their eyes and eating ghosts and i think that's awesome

[bulbagarden]

Opinion: Scarlet and Violet are Pokémon's Queerest Games Yet (Bulbanews)

Hi it's Lisia here!! The following is an opinion piece from one of our staff members, Torchic W. Pip!! Blanc and I both loved this and like... we had to share it here LOL.

Pokémon was my queer awakening. I had silly little crushes on male and female characters alike, and I resonated with many of the designs of the series’s more gender nonconforming designs. Pokémon has always had a wink and a nod to queerness: Jessie and James’s genderbending antics, Beauty Nova in X and Y, Blanche from Pokémon GO… the list goes on. But with Scarlet and Violet, queerness shines bright as celestial stars.

“But wait!” you might say. “Scarlet and Violet has no canonical gay or trans characters! How can this thesis make sense?” Well, queer representation need not be explicit to be impactful. Sometimes, the stories queer people resonate with most are told through metaphor, from the misfits in Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer to X-Men to Luca and Gwen Stacy. The roots of this trace back to a history of censorship. LGBTQ+ stories have been historically censored, such as with the Hays Code. Queer people have long been unable to see stories with explicitly queer characters, so they instead turned to metaphors and symbolism. Gender nonconformity is also nothing new to the scene of video games. Metroid, Legend of Zelda, Final Fantasy, and Guilty Gear are just some of the games that play with our expectations of gender. It’s also nothing new to Pokémon. East Asian media tends to depict transness and gender nonconformity differently from the West, but for more on that, I'll direct you to this video.

Even before the release of Scarlet and Violet, gender nonconformity shined through. Take a character like Grusha, for example, who many mistook for a girl when he was first introduced. It goes a little deeper than that, though. “Grusha” is Russian for “pear”, but it’s also a diminutive for the name “Agrafena”... a female Russian name. Whether or not it was intentional, it does add an extra layer of nonconformity to Grusha. Another character with some queercoded elements is Iono: Her color palette evokes the colours of the trans flag, and her Magnemite headpieces evoke an explicitly genderless Pokémon. Baggy clothes are common among many transgender people. Her friend Bellibolt is a frog, and many frogs in real life can change their sex. In Japanese, she speaks with a Bokukko speech pattern (a girl using the masculine “boku”), which is often used for plucky characters, but also nonconforming characters. All of Iono’s names across translations evoke themes of questions. On top of all that… well, the Vtubing scene is, from personal experience, very queer. All of my friends who watch VTubers are queer in some way. More seriously, creating a persona where you can let your true self shine in a way that regular society won't allow you to... that's pretty queer.

With the release of the games, we’ve seen a wide array of characters��Rika, Saguaro, Penny, and all of the leaders of Team Star, among others—showcase a wide range of gender expressions, either in their appearances, their personalities, or their hobbies. And all of these characters are seen as heroes, as role models.

As with games before, there are two characters with queer subtext in their relationship. Hassel and Brassius have been seen by many as being in a gay relationship, bonding over a love of art, supporting each other in dark times, and giving each other pet names. Even if it's not outright stated that they're in a romantic relationship, their care for each other is a beautiful thing. Many gay coded relationships are often of younger men or women, and while these relationships are important, it's also important for older gay couples to receive some of the spotlight. After all, queer people have always existed, and it's important to remember our past and honor those who came before us, who helped paved the path to acceptance.

For the first time in a mainline game, the player character can choose any clothes, hair style, and so on regardless of gender. While the player can still only choose between being referred to by masculine or feminine terms, this is a step in the right direction, and it opens the door for many opportunities never seen before. Boys can be feminine, girls can be masculine, and both can be anywhere in between. The world of gender expression is as big as the open world of Paldea.

But back to Team Star. The whole Team Star path is one big, queer metaphor. Think about it: kids are bullied for how they dress or act, these misfits band together and retaliate against their bullies, finding a sort of family in each other, villains who turn out to be just the opposite… It’s a story that, in some way or form, can resonate with many kids who have, sadly, dealt with homophobia or transphobia in school. The path is a story about righting what’s wrong, about making the world a more accepting place.

Scarlet and Violet is a game about shining bright in the sky with other stars, about being your true self. Its themes are deeply resonant with the queer experience. At the end of the Team Star path, you battle Penny, whose ace Pokémon is trans flag-coloured Sylveon, and as she Terastilizes her partner, she says, “Shine bright like the starry sky and become who you really want to be!” So shine bright, trainers, and be your true self.

Oh, and of course, Quaquaval is the queer icon of all time.

[Torchic W. Pip is a Bulbanews writer with a focus on music, merchandise, and spin-off games. They're also a fanfiction author and moderator of the Writer's Workshop subforum. Outside of writing, Torchic is studying music theory and linguistics, and his favorite games are X/Y and Omega Ruby/Alpha Sapphire.]

[mixelation]

Literally all i know about wicked is the poster bc i think its nice. Can i ask you what its a fic of? Or just about?

uuuuh so wicked is actually weirdly complicated in terms of being a fic/adpatation/whatever. it's a fanfic of the wizard of oz but it gets weird:

the wonderful wizard of oz is a children's book published in 1900. it went on to have 13 sequels by the original author, and then literally tens more sequels by other authors. most of the books are about someone going on a journey and assembling a party of strange magical people and creatures and running into various strange places and occasionally dodging things trying to kill them. this means that there is a LOT of lore and zany characters to draw from.

the book is of course not nearly as famous as the 1939 movie, which is what most people think of when they think of the wizard of oz. the movie adaptation has the same basic plot outline as the first book, but streamlined and-- most importantly for understanding wicked-- it changed a lot of aesthetic details. the reason for this is that color movies were new, and they wanted to show off, so everything is ultra bright and colorful. in the book, the dorothy's magic shoes are silver. they changed them to ruby red because it pops more. also in the book, everything in the emerald city is white, but everyone entering the city must wear glasses to make everything appear green (for emeralds, you see). the movie producers were evidently like "what the fuck?" and instead made the emerald city extra color and bright and loud. oh, and the movie made the wicked witch green. in the book, she was not green and instead had one magic eye.

wicked is a 1995 novel which is of a specific genre which basically asks: what if the villain of the story secretly had a sympathetic backstory this whole time? what if the good guys weren't that good and the wicked witch was actually kind of the better person?! i did really like these as a kid, but they kind of appeal to me less now outside of nostalgia because as takes they're usually.... kind of immature? or else come off like they dislike the source material. anyway, wicked is about the origin story of the wicked witch of the west (now named elphaba), who is born green and discriminated against for it. i read the book back in high school and therefore don't remember a ton of details about the plot, but the world building involved feels like a bizarre fever dream and sort of lazy in its lack of canonical detail if you're an oz fan. i remember finding it especially bizarre because there's details drawn from the books, but the main premise is entirely in movie land, and a lot of major book details are basically just discarded/never acknowledged. this is what makes it, imho, a bad fanfic. i won't comment on the writing because it's been too long, but in terms of being a fanfic..... yeah, it's weird & kind of bad?

however, i don't think most wicked fans have read the book. most people talking about wicked mean the 2003 musical (which will have a movie adaptation this month and why i'm thinking about it). like the movie, the musical is more streamlined than the book it's based on, and fun songs are added!!! i've seen it twice and literally don't remember the plot. i do think the actually spectacle of it is cool, but i don't like most of the songs, and again, it feels like it hates the source material. some of the weirder things, off the top of my head:

i cannot begin to stress how being green is one of the more normal physical differences to have in oz. like i get that the "hated because she's GREEN" thing is just a vehicle for the metaphor, but what is the point of intentionally picking this setting if you're just going to discard it?

there's a subplot about the talking animals wanting rights. this could actually be super interesting to explore, because the status of animals in the land of Oz is never made super clear? it's stated that they can all talk, and yet we see farmers and people eat animal products. there are animal characters who are treated equal to humans, and animal characters that are very explicitly pets. yet wicked does not engage with this in any interesting way (at least in the musical -- in the book i just remember an animal sex club?!); it's just a very generic "we want rights!!!" thing happening without the actual method and system of discrimination being made clear

glinda's function in the books is to be a wise adult figure. she rides around in a flying chariot pulled by swans and hires only beautiful women to work for her and gives them swords. in wicked, she's a shallow prep character. i get it's supposed to be an ~origin story~ or whatever but my feeling was that there's no foundation for her future character being laid. unless you're only going with "pink, appears in a bubble" as your basis for character

the book and the musical are both set against highly political backdrops, but most of the politics are made up wholecloth because canonical oz is.... chaos. the land of oz is more like a bunch fo loosely tied city-states, many of which are so isolated they probably don't know they have a ruler. again, "the politics of oz" is something i think would be interesting to explore in a fanfic, but wicked seems to just want to have some politics around and slapped a vaguely oz aesthetic on it, making it feel shallow and preventing any sort of conversation with the source material

like i'm not saying that all fanfic NEEDS to be in conversation with the source material; i'm just saying, why write a fanfic if you literally only want the aesthetics of the movie? to help sell copies? sure. and i don't even think that automatically makes a piece of work bad (no hate, wicked fans), it's just makes it frustrating and unpleasant to consume if you're a fan of the source material

[fynnlink]

"The Dragon Prince" Theory for Book 6 "Stars" concerning the star "Leola's Last Wish" and the Identity of Leola herself and what her "Last Wish" might have been. Plus some speculation regarding "The Merciful One" and Aaravos

Possible Spoilers but I'm mostly just theorising.

SPOILERS

Okay so quick recap for those who only watch the series and don't interact with other content:

Leola was once a unicorn who once gave the Humans their first Primal Stones, thus granting them access to magic before they later learned / turned to Dark Magic. She was also said to have been "unique" amongst her kind.

Later after the Humans had learned dark magic they hunted the unicorns to near extinction, to use them to empower their magic. This is also what makes the unicorn horn in the earlier Books so rare and Claudia's finding it such a feat.

So on to the theory:

According to Aaron Ehasz the elven child in the drawing below (seen in the credits of an episode and more importantly in the Star-chart/map in the new Intro) is none other than Leola herself.

Tweet from Aaron Ehasz talking about the drawing of the Elf Child

Star Map in the new "Mystery of Aaravos" Intro (same drawing in the center on the left)

While I'm neither arguing against or trying to "disprove" the stated theory of "Startouch Elves = Unicorns", I'm instead focusing on another part of the drawing and the greater lore of TDP as a whole. (Whether there is a specific connection between Startouch Elves and unicorns beyond a shared Primal Source is ultimately irrelevant to my theory but it's an interesting thought nonetheless.)

As stated/shown in Book 5 Episode 2 "Old Wounds" the Elves of Xadia call the brightest star in the sky "Leola's Last Wish" (as opposed to the Humans calling it "The South Star" which is probably a play on our own "North" Star). What interests me is the fact it is specifically called Leola's Last Wish and the fact that this star is the brightest of all.

It's also interesting that Rayla doesn't know who Leola was joking that she might have been a friend of Garlaath the Annihilator (which might have been the case but we don't know. Garlaath might be seen wielding an axe and shield on the right side of the star map though this is also unconfirmed.)

While we do not yet know why or exactly when Leola became a unicorn we do know it must have been before the Splitting of Xadia and probably before - around the founding of Elarion 2000+ years before the begin of Book 1.

Regardless of why, we know Leola was once an elf (maybe even a Startouch Elf) who later became a unicorn. It is my theory that Leola's "Last Wish" was the one that turned her into a unicorn and the drawing above shows the exact moment she wished upon a star. This would also explain why Leola was "unique" among the unicorns.

Furthermore I believe that Leola's wish was granted by "The Merciful One" a Startouch Elf first shown in one of the new promo clips "Elf Sad" which features Aaravos (possibly just after his literal and metaphorical "Fall") being visited by T.M.O above the Sea of the Castout. This is also the same place where we first see the two statues of Aaravos and T.M.O back in B5 E9.

This clip also shows "The Merciful One" in much brighter, even glowing garments as opposed to Aaravos' cold and dark ones. While this is most likely because of his Fall (the star symbol on his chest is also black and his clothes look damaged/ripped), the entire scene draws attention to The Merciful One connected to the brighter purple/red/gold of the stars and nebulae. This contrast between Aaravos' dark and T.M.O's light/colour is most noticeable in the top-down shot below.

I do think the difference in attire has more to do with Aaravos' "Fall" than with The Merciful One themselves but these two theories aren't mutually exclusive.

I believe "The Merciful One" is this brightest star, the one known to the Elves as "Leola's Last Wish" and the Humans' "South Star" thus why I speculate a connection between them and Leola.

[atamascolily]

Those of you who have read my ridiculously long Homura essay will already be familiar (heh) with my argument for why the missing Clara Doll "Ai" is actually Homura, so I'm not going to rehash those arguments here, but I did find some more evidence while combing through the Rebellion Production Note that is worth taking into account.

(CW: discussion and imagery of self-inflicted surgical procedures and suicide.)

This drawing shows the original 14 Clara Dolls with Homura in her "orphaned Victorian waif" outfit right in the center. This in itself proves nothing, but it's interesting that she's right where #15 would be, if #15 was present, and that her face is drawn as a blank. This same juxtaposition happens elsewhere in the Rebellion Production Note--sometimes with a clearly delineated "Ai" figure, sometimes with a clearly delineated "Homura" and sometimes with a more ambiguous figure, thus blurring the lines between them

Here's a close-up shot of a clearly delineated "Ai" figure. Unlike the equivalent shot in the final film, this image is large enough that we can see that she comes with an accessory: a hand drill. And what do you think she uses it for?

Trepanning is a surgical procedure that literally drills a hole in the skull, usually for the purpose of "letting bad spirits out", i.e., a crude form of mental health treatment. The metaphor in context of Rebellion is obvious, so I won't belabor it, except to say that we see both Ai's outfit and her drill again and again in these production notes... with Homura.

This drawing is different from the version that made it into the final film, but note that this is very clearly Homura, right down to the cobweb tears under her eyes (which are red in the film version), actively drilling a hole for trepanning with the hand drill.

In addition to being drawn with the classic "Clara Doll eyes"--again cementing the fact that Homura perceives herself as yet another Clara Doll, at least in this particular context--she is clutching a plushie of Madoka. Compare this to other drawings in the notes:

Here we have a proto-Homulilly, clutching Madoka to her via some kind of shadowy tentacle things (?) while Madokami (Madoka as the Law of Cycles) looks on. Once again, Madoka is an object of comfort to Homura, albeit represented in a more mature form.

These same motifs appear in both of these images, except that the Clara Dolls are now the ones connected to Homura via these long shadowy tentacles, and in the drawing on the right, Homura is separated from Madoka and reaching for the "angel" on top of the Christmas tree instead of actively holding onto her the way she is on the left. Note also that Homura appears more as the Devil than the witch in the left drawing, and that her white veil is reminiscent of a wedding veil. This is evocative of her pulling Madoka the human (and in this case, the magical girl) out of the Law of Cycles, just as she does in Rebellion.

(For what it's worth, Homura attached to the Clara Dolls didn't make it into the film, but it does appear in the concept movie trailer and her doppel form in Magia Record.)

But anyway, back to Ai and trepanning! Here's another sketch of Homura wearing the same outfit as "Ai" and again paired with her signature drill, although this time only the handle is visible:

Homura's eyes are rounder here and lack the distinctive uncanny valley Clara Doll look, but as a general rule, Inu Curry seems to really enjoy representing her with them:

Ultimately, the trepanning drill is not present in the final version of Homura's confrontation with Kyubey in the dollhouse, but it does appear in at least one place during the tunnel sequence, where it is shown boring into the heads of two identical Clara Doll heads devoid of any distinguishing feature. I guess SHAFT ultimately decided it would be too obvious anywhere else, although I'm not sure why--they certainly didn't have a problem with Homura shooting herself in the head, so the blood and violence wasn't the problem here. Most likely they thought it was redundant to have two different head wounds in the same movie, IDK.

Granted, all of this material I've presented here is supplementary to Rebellion and may represented preliminary ideas that ultimately weren't realized in the final product... but given that "Ai"'s name and existence is known only through supplementary material to begin with, I think it's fair to take it into consideration when drawing conclusions about her. However, I think there's no question that regardless of your interpretation of the finished film, it's abundantly clear that Inu Curry was thinking of Homura as Ai (and vice versa) during the design process; otherwise, there would be no reason for all the symbolic overlap.

TL;DR: Rebellion is incredibly ambiguous and open to multiple different and frequently contradictory interpretations, so believe whatever you want to believe about Ai. That said, based on all of the evidence I've outlined above, "Ai" likely represents the Homura we see in Rebellion and thus is unlikely to appear as a separate entity; anyone who expects her to turn up in a different form in future installments will be most likely be disappointed.

[itsagrimm]

He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 12 - To Watch a Witch Burn

CN Ivar, witch hunts, sexism, patriarchy, murder, arson

Cultural Context notes

witch hunts were a thing??? Not a huge phenomenon in eastern Europe tho.

Yes, I am back. Felt like writing.

Not beta-read by the still wonderful qq aka @daisies-and-lavender-sideblog as I needed to publish this and be done with this chapter instead of dragging it around even longer.

2,8 k words

Masterlist

I made a playlist for this series. Enjoy.

Night cloaked the world under its dark spell, making way for the rising moon. Since time immemorial, the moon had wandered the sky, watching from above how kingdoms rose and fell, how people lived, how history was made. And very shortly after that immemorial moment long ago when the moon started their celestial hike, they learned how boring eternity was.

If the moon could sigh, they would. As their large lunar eye passed the dark lands below, there was nothing new to see. Always the same old spectacular robberies, coven meetings, lovers secretly reuniting.

Same old, same old.

The moon was about to metaphorically sigh again when their sight fell onto a familiar little wooden house below.

The house of the bride of that little guy.

What was his name?

King of ponds?

Prince of Piss?

It was so long ago.

The moon could not remember but he did remember that the Bride was human and to marry a Vodyanoy. A human and a Vodyanoy!

The moon remembered just a night ago how they had talked. It felt so long now as if months had passed.

The house looked different than how it had just a night ago.

The top floor was wet as if it had just survived a flood. Peeking through the broken window the moon caught sight of an equally dishevelled and chaotic bedroom.

Kids these days.

The front door opened and the Bride and her Vodyanoy stepped outside. They looked happy. She even wore a Kokoshnitza. Armed with the axe, the Vodyanoy looked around, before nodding to his bride and kneeling down. With a shy smile the bride stepped closer, adjusted a mossy blanket around her shoulders and giggled as her fiancé lifted her up to carry her away into the woods.

Looks like they have talked and resolved their differences, the Moon noticed.

But what now? Curious and excited, the Moon watched as they made their way through the dark forest, peeking through the branches and leaves to catch glimpses of the Vodyanoy and the bride in his arms. After a far too long and unentertaining hike (if it was up to the Moon) they arrived at the lake in which the Vodanoy had started to construct a new castle.

Looks a bit like a beaver lodge, the moon mused, too modern architecture. It’s missing columns.

Quickly, the Vodanoy carried his bride over to a little boat, setting her down and pushing her out into the open water as he swam around her like a dark threatening shadow under the water’s surface.

Smart to sleep out on the water where there is no bigger threat than the Vodyanoy himself.

The bride saw nothing of the dark, scaled, and clawed shadow circling her little swimming sanctuary like a cat a mouse. She took off her hair piece, snuggled into her blanket, and closed her eyes, falling asleep shortly while her fiancé lurked right under those few thin pieces of wood separating her from the deep dark water.

That’s it?

The moon would have killed for something more interesting. Their eyes wander over the little boat with the sleeping bride, the dark water and finally the Vodyanoy himself – dark and dangerous and unlike any groom to a human bride before.

With narrowed eyes the Vodyanoy blinked up, meeting the moon's curious eyes. 

“You are up.” The little princeling spoke.

“Of all the things you could have said, little one.” The moon huffed. “Of course I am up. I am the moon. I have nowhere else to be but up.”

The Vodyanoy shrugged, causing little waves to circle around him, and smiled.

“How are you, friend?” The princeling said with a mouth full of sharp teeth ready to break and gnaw bones. “I suppose I have to thank you. Your advice that I should talk with the Bride was a sound one.”

The moon hummed, staring down at the peacefully sleeping Bride in the embrace of water.

“I can see that. I am glad. What now?” The moon responded, eager to hear something, anything interesting.

“What now.” The Vodyanoy sighed. “She has my heart as I have hers. But she is still destined to die and I am not. It feels like winning a game of cards only for the table under it to crumble immediately.”

“Because she is a human?”

The Vodyanoy curled around the boat like a cat.

“Yes. I don’t think she minds it much. But I do. She will be gone one day and I will still be here. Always be here.”

The moon stayed silent for a moment, considering its words.

"You are hardly the first groom asking himself if they are making the right decisions. If you two are willing to give this marriage a try, why not gamble it? You might regret not doing so." The moon commented and paused. "But if there is a way to help you, let me know. It's awfully boring up here. You are one of the few who bother talking to me. I would love to return a favour."

König sighed, more waves running in circles from his enormous dark body in the water.

"Baba Yaga, the honourable witch, said I must sacrifice something I hold dear and give it to my Bride to save her." The princling said. "But I have nothing I care about that I could give her. Or am I wrong? I do not know. If you have the answer, dear moon, please do tell so I can save my Bride."

The moon thought about the witches' words. But nothing came to the moon, that was very illuminating.

"I am afraid I do not know. But I'll tell you prince of -"

"König. King of everything from under the water. Pardon the interruption."

The moon paused.

"Maybe you should give her your pride and title. Just marry her and then she should be safe?"

König yawned.

"Wouldn't that be too easy?" The king wondered, yawing again.

"U-hm."

The moon did not feel too bright about that.

"Maybe… Let's not risk it." They suggested. "For now, I can keep guard. Maybe a good night's sleep will help you figure it out yourself?"

The Vodyanoy sighed.

"Good night then. Thanks for keeping watch, Moon."

The little king of everything from under the water closed his eyes, cradling the little boat with his bride in to keep it from flooding out of reach and the Moon gazed away.

No dangers were on the face of the lake. The rivers and ponds laid calm and undisturbed, a great lull covering the early summer night.

The forest was less so. A fox made his way back to his den. A nightingale sang her song. A group of nearby villagers gathered in the darkness among their little houses in a nearby clearing.

The moon paused.

Armed with torches and pitchforks the villagers gathered as if ready to march.

Lovely! Exciting! The moon could not help but think with curiosity and concern. But where do they go?

A man was there, among the crowd. He was holding a torch, raising it high as he spoke with command.

“She is cursed!"

More villagers flooded out of houses, grabbing whatever tools they might find.

"And all that comes with her is cursed too!” A man called loudly over the supportive murmur from the crowd. “For too long we have waited and watched as monsters have started to creep around our village! As order has started to erode! We must bring an end to this before she kills us too! Think of the children! Think of the women!”

“Aye, Ivar! Tell them!” Someone shouted through the night.

“Think of the order of the world!” Ivar continued. “We have allowed a cursed girl in our midst. We were kind and patient. Oh, how benevolently we have tolerated her wickedness, have we not? Was she not allowed to live in the house of her family despite being unmarried and unbound against our custom?”

More supportive shouts sounded through the air.

“And her fiancé? Was she not seen naked with this stranger at the river? Improper and concerning! What will our wives and daughters think if they learn of the cursed girl roaming free? If they are not taken away by the monsters stalking through the night brought in by this witch!”

“Witch!” Another man stressed, shouting with hatred dripping from the maw. “She is a witch!”

“And a liar!”

“And a curse!”

“And unmarried!”

“I would never allow for a girl like that into my family!” A woman added loudly. “She is a stain. No boy from our village should be burdened with her.”

“There is just one way left!” Ivar shouted over the crowd. “We must kill her before she kills us!”

A grim silence befell the crowd.

The moon stared intently at the mob, waiting for judgement to fall. Like a witness to an execution waiting for the axe to hit the neck.

“Yes. We must kill the witch.” The woman finally stated solemnly. “We must kill the witch before she hexes our sons.”

“Before she tempts our daughters and wives.”

“Before she seduces our husbands.”

“Before she kills us.”

The man Ivar nodded and the crowd nodded with him.

“Yes, we must kill the girl before the girl kills us. In haste! We must act now.”

In gruesome fascination the moon watched, wondering about the poor girl who was supposed to be so powerful that she could threaten a whole village, summon monsters, and confuse the hearts of men and women alike.

Should I do something? The moon thought to themselves before realising a more pressing question. Can I do something?

While the moon was an excellent witness at night, they discovered it made for a lousy guardian to be up in the sky and unreachable for most.

I am sure this has nothing to do with the little king and his bride. The moon hoped and watched as the crowd shared pitchforks and torches among themselves, as mothers and wives whispered and joined with their husbands and sons to go kill some girl, as someone was hushed who dared to ask how a powerful witch could be killed by just some lowly peasants.

The Moon stared unblinkingly, wondering what was about to happen.

I am sure she will get away. The moon wished, feeling dread creeping up at the horizon.

Silently observing the moon saw how the mob made their way in muted order to not spook the girl-witch. Through gardens and under branches of leaves. In unjustified loveliness the night air caressed pleasantly over the crowd of the murderers to be.

If she were a witch, they would never stand a chance to harm her. The Moon thought to themselves, thinking back to the time when someone thought it wise to insult Baba Yaga.

Maybe…  The moon thought regretfully. Maybe the little Vodyanoy could… If I get him to wake up…

In horror the moon realised that the mob had made its way to the house of the bride before relief overcame them.

“She is not home! No one is home!” One of the villagers cried out from the broken bedroom window after making his way through the house. “The upper floor is nearly destroyed. It’s strange! It’s all wet like after a flood.”

“That must be magic!” Someone else cried. “Get out while you can!”

“She must have fled. We need to find her.” Ivar declared. “Lads, take torches and check the forest.”

No one moved.

“The forest? Are you mad, Ivar? That’s where the monsters roam. If she went into the forest, she is dead or a monster herself.” The woman from before spoke. “I will not send my sons to death to find a corpse or become one.”

“But what if she returns?” Ivar replied.

“Let’s make sure there is nothing to return to for her.” The woman replied calmly. “You said it yourself, old teacher – all that comes with her is cursed too. We must torch the place, Ivar. We must burn the stain away.”

“No, think of the house!” Ivar tried.

“What? Want to live in this cursed place? Want to eat fruit from this gruesome grove? Or work the land and choke on what would grow from it? The witch is dangerous, and we must wipe out anything that is left of her before she can afflict us.” The woman declared. Her eyes were dark in the night and her face was cut wolfish by the fluttering shadows cast from the torches. “Go on, boys! Burn it. Watch your fingers. Be careful.”

Her command broke the tense silence and the moon watched as young men started to search for firewood, hay, anything that would help them burn the house.

I must wake König. It's his Bride's house. The moon realised as they watched how the first flames tingled up the wo

oden walls.

Hey! Hey! Wake up! The soft call barely made the Vodyanoy stir.

Ivar, the old teacher stood and watched as the house burned without any witch in it. He grumbled about waste as he stood and observed the fruit trees being felled and the grains being trampled.

“It is better that way, Ivar.” The old woman spoke as she stepped closer, friendly rubbing over his shoulder. “It is a temptation. I have seen how you eyed the girl. How you have taken stock of what you saw she had. But no more. None of it is anymore. We are not thieves. Our anger is righteous. This fire is our defence. And it burns to keep you from becoming what you teach our boys not to be.”

Ivar shrugged her hand off.

“We could have used the house.” He sighed as they both watched the burning house. Someone had started singing like it was a peaceful bonfire. A girl danced and the moon watched how someone carefully hid a silver spoon in their pocket.

Wake up! You need to wake up!

“The garden, too.” Ivar continued his musings. “And the fields. Winters are hard. Don’t be superstitious, Anna. No one would have choked on the grain or been killed by a girl-monster lurking in the forest. Why did you do that?”

Anna sighed.

“Oh, you know why, Ivar! That little girl - a witch? Cursed? Commanding monsters? Please, you don’t believe it yourself.” The woman shook her head. “But she was becoming a problem. We both know. And I could not watch her get what so many women did not get before her."

"I don't understand, Anna."

"Of course you do not." She spit out bitterly.

Ivar stretched his hands out as if warming his fingers at the fire, mulling over Anna's words.

The man Ivar stayed silent and they watched the fire as the roof started to collapse, as the smell of burned fabric and shattering cups filled the air.

“Do you think we will see her again?” Ivar broke the silence.

The woman shrugged.

“If she is smart, no.” Anna replied. “She is just a girl after all. If she comes back after seeing her house burned to a cinder, my boys will take care of her like they would a proper witch.”

Ivar nodded and stepped away.

“Glad we agree on that, Anna.” Ivar said, “I still disagree on all that waste, but I am glad I can count on you keeping the peace with me.”

Anna smiled before waving her sons to her and turning to go. It was late in the night.

The Moon watched unblinkingly, a silent witness to an uncommitted murder as the village people started to tire and retreat to their own unburned, safe little houses.

It had been an eventful night after all and the Moon was not sure if they were glad about it for once. Their eyes wandered back to the lake with the half-build castle.

For a moment the Moon considered trying to wake the little king and the bride again. But then what would it help except having the Vodyanoy storm off and getting himself killed in the glimmering ashes of the burning wood house now?

No, they would figure out soon enough, the moon thought bitterly.

XXXX

I think I lost my original tag list. sorry. message me if i fucked up.

@thesinsoflust @kdkj122920 @die-prophetin @lillianastuff @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @fatedeniedhope @queensidillasworld @agspgrwasb @silelda @unlikepoltergeist @matcha-flavored-cake @blvkwondaland @diamondnightdreamer @brooklyn-1918 @thorns-x @icepancakes @sizzlingsaladpeach @peachymonsters @blackrockshooter780 @cl3rks @king-thunderstorm @hosshihusshi @id0nthaveidea @perilous-pasta @lothiriel9 @berryjuicyy @asmohunny @amatis-gray @blubumblebee @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @c00kied0ugh44 @quesowakanda @moonlitmoonpie @ktmjoslin @globalmilk03 @interactive-brain @dark-rosy-amaranthine @quietlyignoringyou @hey-assbutt35

[vermillioncrown]

@rozaceous and I are truly blessed to have you as a reader, @sunshinerotting

(replying to your post “@vermillioncrown 🫡”)

have been thinking abt your porn for like a day these thoughts are still out of order lol: needed to get (thrown) off to get back solid footing. love sex as reassurance + a tool to communicate devotion in a way not traditionally expressed w sex. also of course they were each others’ first fuck. societal ideas about virginity aside and disregarded this really was the only way to get themselves back stable. new and finished facet of their intimacy. been woven together this was just another thread

We're so happy that the purpose of the sex in this outtake was interpreted the way we intended! While Korvin does say "disruption" and articulate his thoughts behind his intent, reassurance and devotion was up to us to convey it through the scene rather than explicit dialogue or narration. It is quite difficult to portray consensual sex outside the dichotomy of romantic love vs lust because no matter what anyone says, even aroaces, we live in a society that socializes us to associate sex with certain ideas.

On average, our trained instinct guides us to those ideas. It's queer to have a different expression, and that different expression also illustrates how disconnected Allie and Korvin are from society due to their circumstances. It's also a very vulnerable act---even if we disregard the emotions (looking at some aroace talk online smh bc it's still an act with regard towards your partner, I should fucking hope, and that's still emotional vulnerability), it's still physically vulnerable. So, yes, we can take "virginity" to be instead first person they let into their shells, past their skin, in the literal sense.

​like he HAD to scatter her to get her to snap back into it and she clearly needed a mark of him inside her like. the creampies were grounding. it’s a metaphor. and also hot. fear i did not pay enough attention to the clothes thing 😔 was too busy thinking “there’s no way these two have fucked anyone before. why are they good at this” which. it was never going to be bad w them. they wouldn’t have let it personal level i found the aspecs boning to be comforting. u guys get it.

He also wants proof he is able to affect her in that he matters to her, he is considered in her choices. She wants proof that he'll trust her, that he won't leave, that his words and actions are aligned, and that she's safe for him. The creampies are everything you say 🤭 Nothing between them, complete trust at the moment and continuing forward, and hah. Oh, you'll love the contrast with the TimKorv outtake 🙂

Don't worry about the clothes thing---it's a pretty deep read. Allie and Korvin are very conscientious about their presentation, because presentation is armor. Tim notices their outfits, that they take things out to dry-cleaning, the difference between the twins' choice of outfits during the Cold War. And, of course, clothes are socioeconomic class signals, which both twins would mind, having a billionaire-in-law and going through Rich Gothamite Hell. They both treat each other's clothes with a lot of care compared to their own as an act of devotion and proof of knowing each other well (barring Korvin's tank top bc Allie was out of patience by then, but their mood was light enough to balance it out).

HAHAHAHA so like, we can't get away with talking about the "skill issue" (lack thereof) without being personal. They're SIs so. Both Roz and I agree (and I have anecdotal proof) that a mindful, solicitous partner that is inexperienced can fare better than a self-centered partner with experience. And we both read a lot of smut (par for the course with fanfic), I have a very vivid kinetic imagination and have done a lot of physical activity requiring fine motor control and body awareness, Roz's livelihood is Knowing Bodies and How They Move. And people should explore themselves and extrapolate from there.

The very high bar is a combination of ^^ the above, their immediate need to reconcile and demonstrate devotion, and their comfort with each other. They knew this was the one and only time---gotta bring the A-game. You're right in that it was never going to be bad with them.

And thank you, it means a lot to us. We want more aspec boning, we want it to be sold, not told to us. Glad you feel that we nailed it.

it IS narratively coherent it makes so much sense for them it’s another threshold to walk through it was a natural move and i love that they’re done with it and it’s comfortable. that’s such a novelty. and her getting the snacks in case he changed his mind. there’s care everywhere there’s intimacy everywhere and we knew that but i could feel the bubble start to reassert itself as soon as they get to the motel. i love when sex isn’t about sex. talking bodies fr. it’s 2 am im defo forgetting smth

For a 2am thought, this is pretty comprehensive. Written sex is rarely about the sex, or it's rarely just about the sex. Obviously, we wanted it hot and sexy but like. Character study. It's a 15k character study.

shower scene was very funny and so was them making fun of dick unprompted. 2 virgins having improbably banger sex. gotta blame batman

That's the thing with neither of them ever suspecting there's another transmigrator. You think you're cheating with prior life experience/knowledge, but the other person is just exceptional like the rest of the batfam, duh. Right? ...?

DPNF from Tim's pov is biased against Dick. The twins love Dick, he's an essential part of their lives, it's an automatic reach to mock him lol.

Oh, final thing with difference between Allie being more hung-up than Korvin over the improbable virgin killing at sex---differences between continued female socialization versus 2.0 male socialization. Allie and her circumstances make her more self-conscious, the whole thing with women always self-monitoring how they are perceived.

Korvin doesn't have female socialization in his second life that ^ guides towards that, but he's very strange for a guy that looks masculine enough because his first life was as a woman, albeit one that existed and was rewarded in predominantly male spaces as an exception. So, he has different hangups which manifests in the rabid squirrel piloting the 6'4" fuccboi currently entertaining you all.

Gender!

[alchemiclee]

I think I found a way to explain the difference/connection between dan heng and dan feng with a silly metaphor. don't know if it will make sense to everyone else, but it makes sense to me.

dan heng is a cassette/vhs tape that is recording over the original content on the tape. if you are old enough to have used those, you might have accidentally recorded over things that were already on them. maybe you had family video tapes your dad recorded of you and/or your sibling as babies and you accidentally recorded your favorite TV show over one of them (and got in huge trouble.....I'm sorry dad 😅) or your sibling recorded over your cassette that you redorded things on and lost most of what you did)

the reincarnated vidyadharas get a new tape to put in the same device to record a whole new tape. however, in dan heng/feng's case, we know it was messed with. it wasn't a new tape. it was the same tape put back in, rewound to the beginning, and started over. dan heng's life/memories are recording over top dan feng's. in my experience with these tapes, sometimes when you record over top something, there will be little blips of the old thing that sneak through in between different recordings. (at least I recall that happening when my sister recorded over my cassette. there would be a minute of me talking and then she cuts me off and babbles for few minutes and then part of a song on the radio I recorded for a few seconds, then back to her, and so on) that's dan feng's fragmented memories coming to dan heng here and there.

they are essentially the same tape, but being re-recorded over the old one. therefore, it's basically a different tape at that point because all the content recorded on it now is different, minus some little bits that didn't get recorded over.

if you had a vhs for the movie shrek, but when you watched it, it turned out to be a barbie movie (and maybe after the barbie movie ended, instead of credits, it switched to the ending of skrek), would you still say that vhs tape is shrek? no, you'd probably cross out "shrek" and write what barbie movie it is instead.

that's basically how dan heng/feng works and why they are different people, yet still connected.

[anxious-lorf]

Since Wapeach's concept design was released to the public, I took it upon myself to come up with headcanons for her

My Wapeach Lore/Headcanons:

Her real title is Princess Pearui, or "Pear" for short. (Peach + Warui, only using the back half instead of the front half)

She's the smallest of the (metaphorical) Wah Family

She used to play tennis, but was disqualified for bringing an axe to a tennis match in place of a racket.

This ruling was made by none other than Peach, whom Pear vowed revenge against ever since, or at very least, a chance to compete with her again and prove she's the best, once and for all.

Pear has a general hatred towards rules as a whole, be it the rules of a game or the rules of proper princess etiquette. She breaks rules partly out of spite and partly to illustrate that she's too strong to be controlled. (She exclusively jaywalks AND says she owns the road)

Wario loves garlic. Waluigi might have a taco stand. Pearui's favorite things to eat by the fistful are anchovies. On pizza, bread, or just straight-up. She's even drink the oil that the fish were contained in. And pears, but that's a given. (She also likes peaches, but would never admit to it, let alone eat one in public.)

She's always got her axe ready, hidden away... somewhere.

On top of a strength that allows her to chuck things far and swing her axe with relentless fury, she's also nigh-indestructible like Wario. Crushing, stabbing, burning, electrocution, a point-blank explosion? You name it, she's survived it, albeit usually bent or warped into a different shape as a result. (Again, just like Wario in the Wario Land games)

She can also swim through the air like Waluigi, but not as fast

[icarusredwings]

A soft treat for yall. It's about as soft as you'll ever get with these two.

The drums that never end.

A retired timelords oneshot. Sfw+cuddles ‼️

(Mainly) Any!Master's pov

Words: 2,715

It's storming in London (shocker)

The Doctor is sound asleep in his special rocking chair, in the corner of the living room. His breathing his regulated. His heart rates are normal. Except his head keeps slouching forward rather than back or to the side. It's possible his neck is going to ache when he wakes up.

The Master has taken over the Noble's couch, staring out the window, watching droplets of water race and observing the lightning.

It's quiet. Too quiet.

He couldn't remember the last time his head was this silent. This silence was interrupted by the sharp inhale from the Doctor, followed by what seemed to be a fearful whine.

For a moment, he watches his hand as it flinched and gently lift as if trying to grab hold of something just out of reach. His breaths quickened with each second that passed.

It didn't take long for him to appear by his side, not hesitating to place his hand in the others, pushing his head back with a grumble. Over 4 thousand years old, and he couldn't keep his head up on his own?

From the looks of it, in this moment, one could assume he was bugging the Doctor. Bothering him in attempts to wake him or mayhaps purposly giving him nightmares.

The girl coming into the room took note of this, and given his track record, she knew full well how much he enjoyed messing with him while unconscious. Whether it be drawing on him or simply laying on top of him for no reason other than to try to 'suffocate' him.

"Hey, What are you-?"

Before she could finish the sentence, she had been shooed away and hissed at, quite literally, for that matter. Crossing her arms, she rolled her eyes.

"I'm telling mom."

And off she went. It was odd, really. Something was different about her. Even his grandaughter from long ago was scared of him. Though it would take more than this to scare the noble child. She would only back away if he snapped at her with his teeth or threatened to eat her.

Often, she would do this. Roll her eyes, tell him he was making a fool out himself, and then run off to get the loud one. This time, he noted that she was bringing him a blanket and one of those stupid stuffed toys again. God, how ridiculous.

He always disliked humans... how oblivious they were. How pathetic and useless. And yet, how entertaining it was to watch them destroy themselves so easily with only a few simple steps. How easy it was to climb that metaphorical and physical food chain.

Had they any idea what he was capable of? Really? Any honest truth? Any clue how many lives the Doctor has ruined? How many hes taken? Though...he had a feeling it wouldn't matter.. they were still so kind to him. And why did the Doctor care if they were or not?

Why weren't they kind to him...?

They always forgave the Doctor.. and mayhaps that's why he hated it, so when he said, "I forgive you." Each time his plans were foiled.. Because he knew that the humans taught him a forgiveness in a way that Gallifrey couldn't. And it made him ill with jealousy.

He didn't know how the Doctor could stand it here. Constantly being monitered at every hitch of breath like some weak dying toddler. Every move, supervised. He even had a curfew. What Time Lord needed a curfew? And now him too.

They were to be back in the house by 3 am each night, or that red-headed woman would pull his ear and shout at him. Why he would choose to live in an attic instead of the open endless universe like before was beyond him. It made no sense.

Once the old bity beat him with a slipper for making a mess of things... and all while the Doctor just laughed... Why would he laugh? They could kill her so easily. They didn't NEED to obey their silly rules..

Though.. alas...he did. Almost as if he wanted to be them. To be human. It sickened him how spoiled they've made him. All pampered and cleansed of his powers.

So what if they fed him, Gave him his own room, and Even a spot in the living room all to himself? They spoke to him so kindly without knowing the milkey way worth of blood that doused his hands. The hands that he would gladly hold no matter how much more blood was painted onto them.

It made him nauseous how native he has become.

So different.. and yet.. the same hand he made pacts with as children. Promises to never leave one another. To travel the universe. Even if Magnus and the others failed their tests, They promised to stay on the same ship. Together.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he grasped the hand, using the other to prop his head up. Instantly, it fell again. Cocking his own to the side, he pushed it back once more, Wondering what it was about this chair that was so special. Why he slept in it so easily.

He wondered why this planet was so special to him.

Why he kept going off to lunch with that curly headed woman. Why he would sit in the garden and complain about the mites on the tomato plants and laugh with that disrespectful brat of a girl for hours.

He wondered why he wasn't good enough for the Doctor to stay with him. Why he didn't stay and accept his offers to settle down with him over the years..

He could make him a special chair.. He could kidnap those girls and force them to be kind to the Doctor if thats what he wanted. It would be easy to keep them as pets.

Hell! He could bomb the garden so that there were no more tomato mites! He'd create a virus so adverse that he makes the tomato mites extinct!

But the Doctor wouldn't like that.. would he?

By now, He found himself being tugged towards him, his hand trapped in an elabroate death grip brought by slumber. Shifting, he put his legs up over the side of the chair, putting his head up under his chin so his head would stop flopping over. That was the only reason- obviously. It was all part of his devious plan to squish him, you see.

Laying his head down, he heard the drumming of his chest.

Du- dun du- dun, du-dun du-dun, du-dun du-dun.

All those years.. he told them. He told everyone, but they never believed him. All those headaches. All those long nights awake.. alone.

All that pain and suffering.. And this was still his favorite beat.

Human hearts were far too slow to make this sort of noise. Far too calm. It was a sound of quad tubbed throbbing that only they could make... perhaps it's why he kept coming back to him. Because as much as he hated to admit it? He could never escape the ecstasy of these never-ending drums.

It wasn't the same as before - Oh, no, no no. It was much different. For you see these drums? These drums he could control if they pounded in his head or not. He could get up and walk away. He could fly until he hit the edge of the universe. And if he really wanted them to stop? He could kill him. Permanently... but he never would.

He couldn't. Scratch that - He wouldn't.

He could DO anything he wished, but recently, he's been finding that his will to do so was very little. He COULD force the Doctor back into the TARDIS, drive them to some other planet, and keep him there for himself. Travel. Together.

Just like their pact said. But he wouldn't. He was tired of the same old schemes. Tired of the planning, tired of the fighting, Tired... in general.

They both were.

Slowly, the tempo regulated again, and it felt just as it did when they were eons younger. Holding the skinny child close because he was terrified of the storms. Latching onto his hand and whining.

Back before he was the Doctor. When he would beg him not to leave until the storm was over... and now look at him.. all these millenia later.

Same hand. Different storm.

"...You haven't changed one bit, my dear.."

Back then, he wondered off into different crowds, too. Even when they went on outings together, somehow he'd always end up losing him and finding him hanging about with someone else. So I suppose him winding up choosing this silly planet over him wasn't that much of a surprise... at least now he was grateful that he came back looking for him.

Calling for him to show him what small thing brought him such joy this time... dragging him through a shop to show him a six slot toaster.

'Last time I was here, they've only made it to four! Isn't that neat?'

He asked, and all he could do was scrunch up his nose and stare at him, dumfounded. This was what impressed him these days? Bread heating machines? The same man who owned a TARDIS, sonic glasses, a sonic screen, and a sonic screwdriver had stars in his eyes over humans making a bread heating machine that could heat six pieces of bread at once?

Ooh.. but that was just him.. so proud of these tiny ants for doing the most useless and simpliest tasks. Though... at the end of the day, you couldn't help but grin to yourself at how ridiculously grand that must make you in his head then, didn't it? If they got such praise for TOAST imagine what praises he thought about you for doing so much more.

He made even the most terrible sound, terrificly intelligent. To see light in a species so dim witted to lose a war to oversized birds who couldn't even fly? Well, for Rassilon's sake, He must look like an exploding sun.

The snores that soon overtook him were thick but were of a man who's lived long and full lives. Content in the noise, his head was no longer silent.

The creator of the universe himself knew that this was a relief for the Master for one couldn't go with that drumming for that long then to silence. It was nice to have a reminder of what once was... It was nice to find confort in the thing that once drove you mad.

"Alright! What've you done this ti-?"

Walking in like a steam engine, the strawberry topped woman stopped and stared in disbelief. For a moment or two, she thought this was a trick, only to blink a few times, tilting her head, then smiled, watching as the two dreamed.

There, sitting in the corner of her home was four hearts beating the same rhythm and heavy snores synchronizing in unison. Two hands intertwined, another wrapped around his waist, and the other lazily curled up against his chest.

The head that was once lolling about was now properly placed up on top of his head and slightly drooling into his hair, the mans legs still hanging off the side.

"Oh my stars- Rose! Get the camera!" She whispered, smiling widely, having never thought she'd see the day when she managed to catch and tame not one but two wild Time Lords. And now here they were... all cuddled up in her living room. Oh, she was so framing this! Maybe even putting it on the family Christmas card.

Just before she could snap the perfect picture, a certain flat mate's eyes fluttered open, soft at first, only for those caterpillars to scrunch in confusion as most would do opon waking to see their friend taking photos of them.

"What are you?-"

A grumble in breath happened as she quickly put her finger to her lips, smiling and mouthing a 'Shh', gesturing to the shifting beast in his lap.

His eyes widened, and so did his smile, slowly securing him by the abdomen, very genty begining to rock in the chair, putting his nose to his head on the brink of giggling at Donna's expressions alone.

It was embarrassing to be caught like this, yes, but he really didn't want to wake him now that he understood what was going on. Especially if he felt the need to curl up like this? He would try anything in his power not to disturb him.

Watching from afar, Rose observed how natural he took to him. How he knew exactly where to hold and what to do. As if he's done this multiple times before. She was going to tease her uncle later about this, but for now, she was just glad he was okay. Like her mother, she could be a little overprotective.

"Wha's wrong with'em?" The red head whispered, still concerned about her friend's 'friend' even if he was a pain in the arse.

Careful not to make too much noise as she closed the curtians, deciding maybe she should start enforcing nap time. Perhaps it would do them both some good.

"Ooh, nothing... He thinks I'm scared of storms.."

"Wot?"

"When we were kids, I'd lie and tell him I was scared." He mumbled, keeping his head pressed against his chest as he calmly rocked, trying to soothe his own heart rates so as not to startle him into waking. He knew how this worked. How "The drumming" brought him farmiliarity.

Tilting her head, Donna cocked a brow. "Why?"

"He was. I knew he'd rather die than admit it, though.. so I told him I was, and he'd always climb up into my bunk.."

"D'awwww! You cheek!"

"Yeah, I know. But ever since..." The Doctor trailed off as if trying to remember how long it's been before giving up.

"Every storm...He's just...there. Even if he's just standing there..staring at me.."

"Wot, like a creep?"

Chuckling, he flashes her a sleepy grin, the rocking slowly coming to a stop. "A bit.. But I don't quite mind it anymore..."

A grin tugged at the edge of her lips, both proud and happy that her best friend was having a nice evening despite having some of his ribs being crushed right now. She could tell by how firmly he was holding him that this was something special to him, and while she didn't know much about their history, She knew he was happy.

"You've missed having your friend... didn't you?"

"Yeah.." He yawned, opening his mouth wide enough to remind her of a puppy, even doing the tounge thing and the whine at the end.

"Right. Back to sleep with you. I'll make sure to wake you when Wilfred gets here, Okay?"

"Thanks, Donna..."

"What for? I wouldn't ever let you miss grandpa."

"For... Everything."

"Ooh now.. don't be getting sappy on me..."

Coming over, she was careful not to get too close, giving his head a peck like the mother hen that she was.

"But Doctor?"

"Hm?"

"Any time."

Smirking from the pun, he watched as she left the room, turning off the light as she went.

Mmm... between the small snores, their hands intertwined, and his legs dangling over the arm of the chair, it made him feel like capturing this moment forever. He wondered, did Donna get a good picture? Was he drooling in it? Oh, he hoped not..

Letting out a loving sigh at the thought of Donna now having blackmail of him drooling everywhere, the Doctor closed his eyes, fluttering them shut as if they wouldn't be able to stay open any time soon.

Pressing his nose against his head, he took a soft whiff of his hair before whispering something that even the TARDIS couldn't translate, and it never would.

It didn't need saying.

Just like the two retired Time Lords definitely didn't NEED a duvet put over them with stuffed animals strategically placed in places that might end up sore later... it was sure nice to have the help.

And sometimes, it was better to be covered and cozy rather than cold and alone...

This isn't about the blankets... never has been.

(Man in the Attic on Ao3 by Icarusredwings)

[daistea]

this is kind of different from your normal asks, but i wanted to ask you this!

you’re a very amazing writer and i was wondering if there are ways that you’ve improved your writing over time? i want to get better and i thought i’d ask you since you’re one of my favorite writers and i love your style! 💚

!!! Thank you my friend!!! You’re too sweet, I really appreciate it 💖

I think you’re a good writer already! Not to be cliche, but keep practicing! There’s a reason why that advice is said so often lol

For me, the way my brain works is by learning what not to do. KrimsonRogue’s book reviews on youtube are spectacular (and funny). He’s taught me a lot about what makes a good story and character.

As for the technical aspect of writing, develop a love for and understanding of words! When using verbs and adjectives, put thought behind their meanings and implications. I once saw a guy write:

“He tripped on the stairs and impaled his leg, then got back up and kept running.”

First of all, they’re stairs. Assuming he hit the middle part, he didn’t impale his leg. Being impaled is a specific kind of injury that doesn’t describe what happened there. Maybe he hit the corner of the stair and it dug into his skin? If so, that detail should be mentioned, but I still wouldn’t consider impale to be appropriate. Also… him getting right up and running again is just silly. Let’s be real here.

Try to avoid using things like ‘angrily said’ or ‘sadly said’. Nope nope. Instead, try to use ‘grumbled, hissed, etc.’ and ‘murmured, lamented, pleaded’

There are exceptions to that rule, I think. ‘Softly said’ is common and describes the emotion just fine. You can also use ‘he said, his voice terse’ just don’t rely on that too much. It’s okay to use ‘said’! But again, dont rely on it. This also plays into the rule of not using too many adjectives. You don’t need to describe the color of her eyes and her delicate features all at once.

On that subject, instead of flat out telling us what she’s wearing or what she looks like, use actions to tell us!

Instead of “she wore long, jangly earrings”

Try “her earrings brushed against her jawline as she bent over.” Or “she shook her head, making her earrings jingle.”

This goes for everything! Show, not tell. Sometimes it’s necessary to just tell, I think. But as you focus on this subject more, you’ll learn when to break the rules lol

Ok so, each paragraph has a structure! Here’s one of my fav thoughts on that subject ⬇️

That has helped me so much!! It’ll get easier the more you pay attention to this, to the point where it becomes second nature. And editing afterwards also helps.

On the subject of editing, try to not edit as you write, resist that urge

For a while, I just collected metaphors and similes I liked. Creating them on my own became easier, though. You can play with already existing metaphors ofc. But think of the emotion you want to convey and how you’d experience it. When you’re stressed, do you connect with the idea that the world is on your shoulders? When you’re mad, how does that manifest? Like a fire in your gut, or like a slow spreading poison injected into your veins? How would it go for your character’s personality? I like to add physical reactions on top of that, another way you can show not tell.

I recommend looking into passive vs active voice! That’s something I still struggle with tbh. But writing actively makes your story clearer.

Try not to use auxiliary verbs too often! Instead of “she could see him gasp.” Try: “she saw him gasp” or even better: “he gasped”

I can’t think of anything else at the moment.. 🤔 I’m here if you have anymore questions or want info on a specific thing!