#but maybe post lost pre haunted?

[warriorofthesky]

envy - crow ficlet

the one thing crow wasn't expecting is envy.

he barely notices it at first; shame and guilt wash against the shores of his mind, wave after wave, tasting like gunpowder, metal and salt and overwhelming everything else. memories bubble to the surface, echoes of words said in his own voice, eyes - blue, resigned, then orange, almost golden, and furious - and the tiny speck of envy winks out, buried beneath all the grief.

but it is there, skirting at the edges of his consciousness, biding its time until he has gorged himself on guilt. its very existence catches him off-guard, jolts him from his stupor and is swiftly put aside, over and over again - because how dare he? - but here, in front of cayde-6's memorial, he can't deny it anymore.

he is envious of a dead man.

he is envious of a dead man he murdered.

(not me, comes the feeble retort, easily dismissed.)

crow tries to conjure an image of the hunter vanguard in his mind. uldren's memories surface, unbidden, but he ignores them; the cayde-6 he seeks is not to be found through uldren's eyes, but in the reticence that colors ikora's expression when she thinks he is not paying attention, the barely-there extra second zavala takes to look in his direction, the brief (painful, horrifying, frightening) hesitation he sometimes catches in the guardian's orange eyes... and in the absence echoing through the tower even now, years and years later. this cayde-6 is easy to imagine, but the process is no less harrowing.

how did it feel, he wonders, to be so loved in life that death wasn't enough for it to be the end? to have it linger with such intensity that, even changed into hatred and grief, it just won't fade away? the many deaths on the tangled shore, the whispered insults, the invisible wall he simply can't break - context doesn't absolve them, but he can see - and feel - the wound now, in all its angry, jagged glory.

he almost misses the mask.

(uldren sov was loved too. the very thought sends his heart into a frenzy; is this panic, disgust... or something different? half-forgotten faces flash in his mind, laughing, touching him, bringing him close... but it's not him.

he pushes them aside. he will not envy a monster.)

he has no right to feel this way. the shame it brings is of a different shade, one all his own, and all the more bitter for it. and yet... he can't quite ignore the curiosity, the want that burrows deep below his skin. he can't look away.

the sun sets, the chatter of the tower quietens, the city below comes alive with light. still, he wonders, yearning a gnawing pit at the bottom of his stomach that won't fade, a wound of his own he can't help but prod at, uncaring for its scarring.

glint compiles beside him when the stars come out, shell twitching and worry running down their link in a faint hum. crow moves easily, automatically, a reflex borne out of habit and companionship, and soon the small ghost rests on his palm, close to his chest. his presence is warmth against the cold spreading inside his rib cage, melting away its sharpness. crow takes in a deep, long breath - it doesn't hurt as much, now.

glint watches him, but doesn't say anything, and after a moment of contemplation neither does crow. he knows what the ghost means.

he tears his eyes away from cayde-6's memorial for the first time in hours.

maybe he doesn't need to wonder.

[silveredsticks]

x

[nataliescatorccioapologist]

My Season 3 Wishlist:

💕Ghost Jackie haunting Shauna some more and Ghost Natalie haunting Lottie and Misty

💕No. more. Adam. Martin. I don’t want to hear about him anymore please I do not give a fuck‼️

💕Let Lottie be a little evil! I want her to spiral a little bit and go feral like I know they intended for her in Season 1

💕Nat thriving as the leader of the group, realizing that she has a true knack for leadership and survival. She finds purpose in that and it’s so sad and tragically ironic because we know that purpose will one day be ripped away from her and she’ll be lost and directionless again for most of her life until right before her death. I will eat that shit UP

💕Lottie being Nat’s cute little spiritual advisor in the Wilderness (and more sexual tension please, maybe a little smooch?)

💕Let Travis have connections and plot lines outside of Nat (and vise versa!) But also don’t just ignore TravNat just to please the fans that are upset with the way their relationship was written, fix it!

💕Please remember that Taissa has a son lol, like where is he??? Who’s taking care of him? Is he okay? One of his moms is in the hospital on the verge of death and the other just took off with her ex-butch to join a cult. CPS please take this poor child away!

💕Adult TaiVan

💕Pre-crash and post-rescue scenes!!!!!!!!!

💕Cabin Daughter is revealed to be alive and she was Javi’s “friend,” she’s the one who moved Crystal’s body, stole some of the bear meat, and she was the one who pooped in the pee bucket! (That last one isn’t necessary it would just make me chuckle)

💕Coach Ben dies! Not because I hate him just because I want to see the girlies go feral and kill him

💕Shauna VS Nat in the teen timeline

💕They find those underground tunnels from Lottie’s vision

💕Nat funeral😔😔😔

[askinkiskarma]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ɪɪɪ - ᴛʜɪɢʜ ʀɪᴅɪɴɢ

pairing: dilf!jake x human!reader (part of False God)

➽ a/n: i wrote this literally an hour before posting so i hope you besties enjoy x i was gonna reuse an older jake drabble but @jakexneytiri inspired this, so blame her hahahaha. dilf!jake will never not make me feral and weepy, much like our reader is. this drabble is also loosely based in False God, because the dynamic seemed to fit them. anyway i will stop rambling enjoyyy x

➽ words: 600 words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: slightly mean!jake, dacryphilia, pet names (doll, kid), p in v

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

“Daddy…” the half mewl, half-whine you let out wasn’t lost on Jake, who, whilst couldn’t quite see your face, immediately perked at the name that will never cease to send blood shooting straight to his cock. He didn’t know how there was any blood left in his body, his erection so hard it was painful, twitching and throbbing, begging for your tight little cunt to wrap around him, to milk him 'til the last drop, 'til his seed was forever imprinted on your walls. But now wasn’t the time - patience is a virtue, one Jake has had to learn in time, in his 43 years on Earth and maybe even more so here, on Pandora. You weren’t ready. You were so small - too small -, a tiny, ineffectual human who somehow managed to pull him away from the life he’s built, with your beauty and your brains, with your inquisitive mind and your warm, inviting heart. You needed an orgasm, or three, to get your pretty pussy ready for him, for him to breed you like he envisioned and give into his worst, most delirious fantasies. 

So here you were, after your third orgasm, still pouncing vigorously on his leg, that was glistening even in the dim light peering through the curtains, the sound of your moans, mingled perfectly with the slapping of skin on skin, enough to drive him into a frenzy. 

“What’s wrong, doll? Tell daddy what’s on your mind.” 

The hands rested forcefully on either one of your hips, pressing your swollen folds to his lustrous, muscular, tensed thigh released their deathly grip on you, settling instead for a comforting caress of your abdomen, drawing circles into the plush of your skin.

“You’re being mean.” 

Your sniffles spurred him on, cock dripping in pre-cum and spilling down his balls, and he found himself reaching for your armpits, twirling you around like one of those Barbies that you had hanging on your bookshelf, a keepsake of a life you’ll never have. You winced softly as you were placed back down on his lower abdomen, finding steadiness on his abs, marvelling once more, as you always found yourself doing, at his body that felt carved by Eywa herself, at his bulging muscles, at the way he was able to make your body scream and writhe in the fine line between pleasure and pain until you were a weeping mess, much like right now. 

His thumbs were gentle as they wiped the tears from your face, but there was a smugness to him, a mischievous glint haunting his beautiful irises. 

“Went a little too far now, did I, kid? D’you need to get fucked dumb on daddy’s cock now?”

You moaned in between pitiful nods, cunt desperate to be filled to the brim with him, the emptiness too overwhelming to be denied anymore. As he raised you once more, your heart fluttered, excitement coursing through your veins as he aligned his cock to your needy entrance. The tip was all you needed to feel stretched beyond belief already, and your head fell backwards, eyes shut in the desire that pushed to the side the pain when the reward was all you’ve ever wanted. 

“That’s right - fu-uck! There you go, princess. Let daddy make it up to you, huh?"

You could think about the consequences of your actions tomorrow, but right now, all you can think about is him, and the next 3 orgasms he’d coax out of you before you’d inevitably pass out of exhaustion, cock drunk and satisfied, as always. 

taglist: taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @neteyamyawne @eyweveng @tiredwitch1113

[glitter-stained]

Idea: for his first time coming back to Crime Alley during his revenge plot, before establishing himself as a crime lord, Jason saves a kid. The kid asks him his name then informs him that it's ridiculous, and that a fairy tale name isn't scary at all so he should change it if he wants to scare the bad guys and also that his helmet isn't even a hood so it's stupid. Jason goes home in a daze, has a crisis, and brainstorms ideas.

Here is the list he comes up with, based on the fact he's a dramatic nerd, and ranked from my personal least favourite to top favourite.

The Creature : I feel like Jason would be the type of person to scream at people who call the Creature Frankenstein, but also argues that the real monster in the story is indeed Frankenstein; that name is thus a book accurate reference, while simultaneously highlighting and rubbing in Bruce's face that he created the villain by making himself his father and then abandoning him. My issue with this is that I associate the concept of cryptid vigilant creature with Cass so much giving the name to Jason feels wrong.

Rhapsody : Rhapsody of a Windy Night (by TS Eliot ofc) is THE poem I think of when I think about Jason in relation to Crime Alley, so this is a cool looking name cementing his identity as a crime lord/ vigilante as linked to this place. Unfortunately, most people would think either music themed villain or Queen reference and nobody would get the reference which would piss Jason off.

The Dead Poet: That idea is not mine, I unfortunately lost the post that suggested it so feel free to link it if you do. I absolutely love it, 100% nerd and batman villain, only reason it's low is I like the others more.

Antigonish: That's the title of a creepy poem/nursery rhyme by Mearns about a ghost haunting a house (yesterday upon the stairs/i saw a man who wasn't there...) very leaning in the creepy, undead, haunting the narrative vibe, and I think he'd fuck with the aesthetic so much, I think he'd wage psychological warfare against Batman with references to Jason's death.

Prometheus: A classic, the curse of non consensual immortality while also being a protector and enlightener of the people, defying the authority and saying I will break your rule in the name of what I think matters more. I think he'd like the way it lets him simultaneously say fuck you to Bruce and keep in mind who he's supposed to protect. Yes, I know Prometheus is a pre existing villain and I hate him, let's just ignore that.

Chrysothemis: this one is such a smartass reference he's such a little shit I think he'd love it. A classic myth from the trojan war is Agamemnon sacrificing his daughter Iphigenia to Artemis in order to be able to go on his mission (wage war against Troy), and when he comes back from Troy, Clytemnestra kills him in revenge, and then the family hunts eachother for sports (see the Oresteia). In Sophocles's Electra, Chrysothemis is the name of the daughter of Clytemnestra who, unlike Electra, doesn't condemn/ protest against their mother for killing Agamemnon to avenge Iphigenia. I think it's particularly funny because Chrysothemis literally means "golden law". Maybe not the most badass sounding but god would it be so funny.

Lightbearer : (the title of Lucifer). Again, maybe not the most badass but Jason is a nerd and he'd fuck with it. "But isn't Jason the christic equivalent of the Bruce/Jason/Joker trinity?" I hear you ask and the answer is yes, but on a meta level, this is what the reader is allowed to see. Jason? He's read Paradise Lost and agrees Satan/Lucifer was right, projected Bruce on God, and made it his whole personality. I think Lightbearer!Jason would quote Paradise Lost/make references to it all the time during their arguments, denouncing Batman's abandonment of Crime Alley and say "I'd rather rule in hell than serve in heaven", tell him that he has no obligation to play by his rules because "just because you were here first doesn't make you the rightful ruler of this city". This also goes well with my hcs about Crime Alley being a little fucked up and loving their local crime lord/vigilant, with graffitis and nicknames treating him like the Alley's Angel/guardian angel but in a fucked up, fallen angel way, like that's our patron saint and he's made of the same shit that we are, he's not holier-than-though cause he's not holy but he's ours.

Anyway feel free to share which ones you prefer and add ideas!!!

[cdyssey]

And How the Witch Shall Burn

Rating: M | WC: 5K+ | AO3 Link

Summary: Post-1.04/Pre-1.05. When Agatha volunteers to find food for the coven after the events of the second trial, Rio joins her, knowing that it's damn well not about the food or the frankly uncharacteristic intent to do something kind out of the goodness of her heart.

It's about the fact that Agatha doesn't like anyone to see when she's hurting.

(But, oh, if she isn't a minefield of a thousand wounds.)

Snippet:

And Rio had hesitated long enough for Jen to capably act. It wasn’t an omission of mercy, exactly, so much as it was one of surprise—surprise that Agatha still hadn’t lost hope for her son after all this time, surprise that she was still bargaining, still desperately clinging to the impossibility of a divine miracle. It was incredibly naïve of her, Rio had thought ungenerously in the moment, probing Agatha’s face, the haunted sepulcher of it, the living ruin, with searching, dark eyes. But maybe that’s entirely my fault, she had just as gently conceded—shuddering when Agatha had buried her nose against her neck, melting even when she had cradled the back of her head like it contained some desperate, mortal wound, and they swayed together in the darkness, Death and her lonely lover, as entangled as all the surrounding trees.   I sometimes forget that you’re human.  And that you grieve and grieve and grieve.

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 4th: Rejection | Arsonist’s Lullaby - Hozier | Lost a/n: pre-steddie post-s4, angst with soft, happy ending because I'm a marshmallow. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 | link to series on ao3

All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. 

That’s it. There are other hobbies, of course, other things that bring him joy– D&D, fantasy novels, art– but ever since he was a kid, whenever a teacher would ask what he wants to be when he grows up, it’s always the same answer. 

I wanna play music. 

As a kid, it seems less daunting. He just has to practice, he just has to play, he just has to have the passion to make it big. To be the next Kirk Hammett, or Eddie Van Halen, or Ozzy Osbourne if he can teach himself to carry a tune. 

Making friends is hard, but he manages to find a few in middle school who can play the instruments he can’t– drums, bass. Eddie takes the role of frontman, not exactly a singer still but he’s charismatic enough to get away with it at their school talent show.

High school comes, and Corroded Coffin is revamped. New vibe, new members. He’s older now, a little more jaded with each rejection. 

No one wants their EP, recorded by hand in Gareth’s garage onto cheap cassette tapes. 

No venue will let them play, and Eddie knows that it’s probably because they’re in high school but hadn’t The Cure started in high school? 

No one believes in them, trying to push them– especially Eddie– to consider more successful careers, safer paths. 

But eventually, they book a regular gig at The Hideout and Eddie’s certain this is it. This is their big break. Until they play week after week, staring at the same five plastered faces every Tuesday. If they can prove themselves though, the owner will have to let them play on a Friday or Saturday.

He never does. 

The final nail in the proverbial coffin comes after Eddie’s final senior year. Being accused of murder should have beefed up his credibility if nothing else– he’s already been traumatized, terrorized, and hunted like a goddamn dog, nevermind almost killed via hoard of angry mutant bats. Surely, he’ll catch at least one break. 

And then the owner at The Hideout tells him he can’t play there anymore. 

The hoards of people who still blame him for Chrissy Cunningham’s death are too much for him to manage himself and, in his words, Eddie’s driving away good business. His heart shatters, his breath catches, and Eddie leaves without a word because if he were to try to speak, all that would come out is either an enraged scream or a choked sob and Eddie doesn’t want to risk either. 

He drives around aimlessly for an unknown amount of time, just circles around the outskirts of Hawkins. Maybe I’ll just leave, he thinks. Indianapolis might be far enough. Maybe Chicago. Fuck it, maybe Argyle and Jonathan can put me up for awhile in California. Eddie wants to go somewhere that makes him forget just how lost he is, how unwanted and forgotten he’s become. Being the social pariah is only fun when he’s making speeches on cafeteria tables, not when it boots him out of his one and only career path. 

Somehow, he ends up in Loch Nora. He can’t face Wayne right now, he doesn’t want to bother Robin or Nancy, he’s already let Jeff, Gareth, and Freak down in the worst way imaginable, and if he goes to his mom’s or Chrissy’s tombstones with one more sob story, he’s afraid they’ll start haunting him. Steve’s become a friend over the last year or so it makes sense. Process of elimination and all of that. 

He doesn’t have the mental bandwidth to realize that he’d started driving that way before he ruled everyone else out. 

Steve welcomes him like he always does and offers him a beer, sitting with him in companionable silence on the couch as they watch Monty Python and The Holy Grail and laugh at the same parts. Eddie knows Steve can see that he’s upset but instead of asking questions Eddie isn’t ready to answer, he just sits a little closer with their thighs touching and one arm strewn over the back of the couch, just barely grazing Eddie’s shoulder. 

The movie ends and Steve moves to switch the tape when Eddie finally speaks up. 

“The Hideout kicked us out. Can’t play there anymore.” 

Eddie sees Steve freeze from behind before turning, his eyebrows knitted together above his nose. “Are you fucking serious?” 

He nods and sighs, lifting one hand to chew on this thumbnail as he looks at the wall beyond Steve. 

“That’s bullshit, dude. Why? Because of the protestors or whatever?” 

He nods again. 

“Want me to go down there? I’ve still got my bat around here somewhere. It might be nice to swing at something that’s not trying to like, eat me.” 

Eddie huffs a small laugh through his nose and meets Steve’s eyes, their righteous anger blending with his own as he sees Steve cross his arms over his chest. It’s hard not to stare. 

 “Well, then at least I wouldn’t be the only guy in this town wanted for murder.” 

Steve shakes his head and just chooses another movie, Howard the Duck this time, before returning to his spot on the couch. It’s one of Eddie’s favorite movies but he can’t focus to save his life because Steve is even closer now, his arm draped fully across Eddie’s shoulders and creating a space for Eddie to easily just… rest. So he does. 

The title sequence starts and Eddie’s head drops to the side, resting on Steve’s shoulder. It’s one of his favorites but he can’t follow the plot to save his life. All he can focus on is the way Steve’s fingers trace symptoms and shapes against the cotton of his tee shirt, and the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the feeling of Steve’s head leaning against the top of his. 

“I had a new song and everything,” Eddie whispers, surprising both himself and Steve. 

Steve hums and tightens his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, a ghost of a hug. “Play it for me sometime?”

All Eddie Munson has ever wanted to do is play music. And maybe he still can.

[theriverbeyond]

can we hear about your gideon eyes tinfoil hat theory 🥺 i love to think unhinged thoughts

THANK YOU FOR ASKING also i had an entire essay typed up for you and tumblr lost the draft. apologies because this re-do is Definitely Worse

my unhinged theory is this: Gideon has, and has always had, a fragment of Alecto's soul inside her, that lay somewhat dormant until it was "activated" by Harrow consuming her soul (and thereby also consuming the Alecto fragment).

bear with me: we know Harrow began to be haunted when a fragment of Alecto escaped into Harrow when she kissed her in the tomb at age 10. Harrow's individual fragment wasn't enough for the Body-vision to have sentience OR for her to, as a child, be sending out "I'm here!" signals that were trackable by the other RBs, so they were basically just hanging out.

HOWEVER. when Harrow ate Gideon's soul, two things happenened: 1) Alecto/The Body started speaking to her, protecting her, gained enough coherence to eventually becoming Nona, etc and 2) Harrow became a becon for the RBs, specifically Number 7, who immediately turned towards her to make a beeline to the Mithraeum.

This makes me think that Lyctorhood "activated" the Alecto-fragment in a certain way, and it makes sense to ME that the trigger would be that fragment getting bigger, via Harrow taking up Gideon's soul (including whatever fragments Gideon herself was carrying)

"evidence" (wild speculating) for Gideon having Alecto's soul under the cut!

1. the gold eyes

in these books, eye color is explicitly linked to what soul is in what body. this is a heavily important plot mechanic throughout every single book - it feels "off" for Gideon's eye color to be the ONLY time in the entire series where eye color means "genetics" and not "soul".

Gideon does not have a normal human eye color. the color is described as like an egg yolk & gold coins, and no human eye color reaches even close. This is further evidenced by how when Augustine and Mercymorn saw Gideon in Harrow's eyes, they thought Alecto had woken up. pre-NtN, this made more sense as The Body was assumed by the fandom to look somewhat like Harrow. post-NtN, we know that Harrow and Alecto looked *absolutley* nothing alike, and therfore these eyes are not fucking normal, they're weird enough that if you see them you automatically assume "8 ft tall Barbie Doll Alecto Woke Up" even when the body you are presented with is 5 foot nothing with black hair.

"Lipochrome... recessive" does not make sense even for the most basic understanding of genetics, which I am assuming is what is happening here - eye color genetics can get really complicated but colloquial understanding is that recessive genes present themselves when BOTH parents are carriers. John had gold eyes because Alecto chose him, but.... how would Wake be a carrier for what is basically Alecto's stigmata? it makes NO sense for Wake to be a carrier of the Alecto-specific, egg yolk kind of eyes

2. the emission

John and Alecto's souls are inherently linked. rather than being two seperate souls, they are more like two parts of continuous whole -- John hid himself in Alecto, and he hid Alecto in him. it's not even two puzzle pieces they are just layered over and continuous with each other

John, then, would very reasonable "pass on" a part of Alecto when he, ah. well. you know. blew a big load.

maybe the Holy Emission carried soul fragments, is what I'm saying

3. the two hander

Occam's razor posits that Gideon likes the two hander and is good at it because she is cool and buff and it was the option presented to her. BUT!!!

Nona instinctivly knows how to hold a two handed sword. Alecto has a greatsword with her in the tomb. Gideon uses a two hander. idk makes u think!!

[nyc3]

One thing that is now unfair to ask is...what is Nine's name? Look hori treated him as an afterthought but his lack of origins works better than the comical twnko's origins.

Yes his family was all killed thanks to him but ...I can't help to think that scene was too ridiculous.

We never saw anyone mentioned them again, not even shig. (He remembers them in MVA and we do see the disgusting human puppet hori flay around) But that's it.

So Nine...

Im not one of those people who think a new character needs to be related to a pre stabelished one. Nine doesn't need to be a Todoroki, Shimura or hell even a lost Midoriya (hahahahahahaha as if hori would care for this family)

But ....imagine if Nine was related to Oboro, somehow, wouldn't that be interesting?

Maybe, maybe not.

Oboro's character became a thing to turns Aizawa into a better character...and fails. Kuro was sacrificed for nothing.

The thing about Shigaraki/Tenko backstory is that it feels... a bit overdramatic?

Well we can say that about his whole character, but the part of his backstory in particular when he kills his family is so exagerated for the sake of shock value that it kinda feels comical.

Horikoshi tried a bit too hard on make MVA feel like the edgier and "different" arc of the series, but the contrast in so big that I can't take it seriously.

Especially when Hori already nailed a dark tone without being super explicit or over the top.

Take the simplicity of Eri's backstory for example:

No blood, no unnecessary violence, just two panels giving a basic idea of what happened to Eri's father and yet the image of those clothes lying on the floor is much more haunting and eerie than the enterity of Shigaraki backstory.

Why Horikoshi stop being subtle with his storytelling?

...

Anyway going back to Nine real name, or the lack of one, I think it's interesting how that aspect of his character adds to the underlying theme of how AFO and Garaki dehumanize people, especially the ones that are part of their experiments.

We know very well how AFO doesn't view other human being as persons but rather objects that belong to him. This starts with his very own twin brother, which name Yoichi means something like "my first possesion".

And just like Nine, number 6 from Vigilantes was a child which whole life was modeled by AFO. They both are just numbers without a real name.

In this case the idea is presented even more explicitly because Six was a child who suffered some kind of amnesia and couldn't even view himself as a normal human with a face.

He even died as a monster without ever know if he had an identity outside being the number 6.

It's funny how you mention the idea of Nine and Shirakumo being connected somehow, as isn't the first time I've hear that.

It's interesting notice how they share this common theme about sky and clouds as part of who they are (Nine's name also is supposedly a reference to the term "cloud nine") both Nine and Oboro are individuals willing to sacrifice their own lifes for others, and ironically both of them ended being experimented by Dr Garaki.

I even have the headcanon of Kurogiri being the "Number 7" in this line of experiments were Nine and Six belong, as sort of missing link between Six and the sentient nomus.

I probably should make a post later explaining better this idea.

And yes for Horikoshi, Shirakumo was just a diposable character to make Aizawa look cooler and more edgy.

While the author of Vigilantes clearly invested a lot of effort on making Oboro a real and memorable character which complements Aizawa rather than just being an accesory. But that topic deserves it's own post as well.

P.S: I have an idea of what real name we could give to Nine, but I keep it for me at least for the moment.

[allyallyorange]

I don’t think you know genuinely how much you adventure time Hongjoong means to me. What’s his full story like in his head?

what’s his canon event pre and post ateez?

what haunts him? with his magic, is their anything that can genuinely make him terrifying?

He seems distant from the rest of ateez, does he show he cares? Do they know? or is he trying to prevent that?

what’s the thing that Mingi so special to him :>

just your adventure time Hongjoong. I’d read their biography.

I LOVE JOONG IN THIS AU SM

Ok I can give some details off the top of my head!

He's the younger brother of the current Demon King at the time of the main story. Despite being a prince, he really never cared for taking on responsibilities and learning how to be in charge since he was the younger sibling, he likely would never have to be in charge ever. He was pretty spoiled and self absorbed, because not only is he a prince but he's the prince of what is essentially Hell. He never really "cared" for anyone. Affection and love and such weren't really openly showed in his family either, except for with himself and his older brother, who he's always had a good relationship with. They have friendly competitions with each other. Before he meets Mingi he had a pretty much entirely carefree life. About as much angst as a rebellious teen. Wanting his parent's approval but not wanting to have anything to do with running their realm.

Post canon he takes over as Demon King, he couldn't bring himself to kill his brother (the royal Demons cannot typically be killed. They live to 10000 and die, unless they are killed by other royal blood), despite everything, his brother is only this way because they don't care about others in Hell. Hongjoong has learned to care, and he cares about his brother too. So while Hongjoong needs to learn how to run the kingdom, he essentially has his brother in a cage, and he asks his advice on things related to being a King. It's a very complicated relationship because of course, The Demon King killed Seonghwa. And Hongjoong really liked Seonghwa, and he'd been under the impression he'd have several years to get to know Seonghwa better, so he feels lost when suddenly the other isn't around. Hongjoong has also never felt sad about someone dying before, so it's a lot of confusing feelings. Yeosang disagrees with the decision to keep Joong's brother alive, so their relationship stays at least a little strained for probably ever, though Yeo tries to understand.

Incasing Mingi in a crystal prison haunts him.

On that note, Mingi is special to him because Hongjoong had never felt real affection for anyone before. Or at least he never understood it. He likes his bandmates, he likes his brother, but if one of his bandmates were to disappear Hongjoong would replace them, in his mind, he's very far above them, as the Demon Prince. His brother and him were friendly, but not friends. Then he meets Mingi, who is like 10 years old, and lost and innocent. Mingi has no magic, Mingi is so small, he's basically useless. He would rank so far below Joong in his mind there was no reason he should've wasted time helping the kid get home. But for some reason he wanted to, maybe he was bored that day and just wanted something to do. Mingi was so endearing, the kid had a terrible sense of direction, and so did Hongjoong, so it took a really long time to find their way back to Mingi's village. In that time the kid went on and on about everything and nothing. Things he liked, things he hated. He fidgeted with Hongjoong's bracelets when he'd decided to cling to Joong's wrists while they walked. Mingi didn't know that Hongjoong was someone "special". He talked to Hongjoong like no one else ever had, he wasn't afraid of him, he'd even bluntly insulted the Demon's pointed ears and teeth, saying they looked funny. Mingi was just interesting to Hongjoong at first. He'd also never interacted with a mortal child before so it was very new to him. He keeps visiting Mingi and the kid is just so loud and bouncy, and then shy and quiet its hard for Hongjoong to keep up. Mingi clings onto Hongjoong, hugging him, tugging on his clothing, snagging his accessories, etc. No one has done that to Hongjoong before, and it's endearing. When Mingi gets cursed, Hongjoong takes care of him for several years until Mingi decides he'd rather be frozen forever than cause more damage. At some point in their years together, Mingi had said Hongjoong felt like an older brother to him, and Hongjoong decided that in turn, Mingi feels like a younger brother to him. Imprisoning Mingi was so hard for Hongjoong because it felt like saying goodbye to the only person in the world he'd come to genuinely care about. It didn't help that Mingi was clearly so afraid during the process. Even during the main story line, when they're both adults, Hongjoong still see's Mingi as a sweet 10 year old kid that showed him how to feel.

Hongjoong's powers include: soul sucking, body/mind manipulation, transformation (into his demon form. he might have another, larger, scarier, form that he almost never uses) and he can use dark magic. He knows like ancient spells that are not written in most spell books wizards like Wooyoung would have access to. (the crystal prison spell for example is not something that just anyone knows) Hongjoong needs a book to cast spells cus he can't remember the incantations (cus he never cared to study them). He's honestly not that great at magic like this, Wooyoung is better at dark magic than he is. The most useful power to himself is just that he cannot die unless someone in his bloodline kills him or he gets super duper old.

He is a bit distant to the others for a while, but he grows fond of them over time. He becomes quite close with Wooyoung, because Wooyoung is always being sent to Joong's shack for breaking house rules. Hongjoong, also becomes close with Jongho, as they spend time where it's just Joong, Hwa, Mingi, and Jongho. For months Seonghwa makes him feel nervous, so he tends to put distance between them, they have a push and pull relationship. Closer to the end of the main story he's more openly showing he actually likes the others. He's gotten closer to everyone, and he enjoys hanging out and playing around with them. It's not that he was trying to seem like he didn't care in the beginning, he just like. actually didn't really care that much when the other half of the guys show up. He just needs a little bit of time to get used to them!

Thank you for your ask!!

[jjkeremika]

701

description: Armin finds Eren at a bar in Marley. Eren convinces Armin to play darts. Armin plays under one condition: A round for a question.

------------------------------

Armin scoffed, shook his head. “Is this where you’ve been all this time?” He ignored the interrogation in favor of his own. “Alone at a bar in a foreign country?”

Eren rubbed his thumb against the side of the glass. “I’m expanding my horizons. Isn’t that what we always dreamed of?”

There was a beat of silence. Eren pointed towards the dart board across the table. “Do you want to play darts?”

“I’ve never played.” Armin crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re deflecting my question.”

Eren gave him a false smile. “As you are with mine.” He stood up. “It’s easy. If I know you, you’ll catch on quickly.”

If. Armin rolled his eyes. He could practically hear Eren’s train of thought. It has been a while, hasn’t it? If you’re still the same as I knew you—if you haven’t changed significantly after all these years. Do you still have that quick wit, that quick comprehension? Do I still understand you? Do you still know me?

--------------------------------

Tags: slight canon divergence; s4 spoilers kinda not sure?; pre-rumbling; post-Eren leaving Paradis; pre-Marley attack; Eren’s been gone for three years; Armin and Eren run into each other in Marley and strike up a conversation; angsty maybe?; heart to heart a little?; very ‘armin is the only one eren can be honest and vulnerable with’ vibes

It was a noisy bar. Eren almost paid no attention to the ascending heavy footsteps, a familiar trot from former life. “Mind if I join you?” A chair pulled out, the noise of the legs scraping against the scarred wooden floor catching Eren’s full attention.

A familiar face. An anticipated, unexpected face.

Eren raised his hand, gestured loosely towards the already pulled-out chair. “By all means.” He glanced his friend up and down, reconciling the grown man’s features with the childlike features in his memory. He looked away, took a swing of his almost empty drink. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Have you, then?” Armin asked, light amusement seeping into his larynx. The extent of this truth was lost on him. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Do you want a drink?” Eren asked nonchalantly, still holding his glass despite its relaxed position on the table. “My treat.”

Armin airily laughed. “Well, if you’re buying—How could I refuse?”

Eren flagged down the waitress, her armband on blatant display over her white shirt. Armin couldn’t take his eyes off of it. Still adjusting to the sight. To the culture shock of it all.

Eren nasally expelled air in a twist of amusement and disgust at his friend’s observation. His lips curled into a cynical smile.

Some things never change. A haunting, innate curiosity. A painfully observant nature. An ability to see all sides to every coin, even the in-between.

Especially, the in-between.

“What do you think?”

Armin’s attention shifted to Eren. He narrowed his eyes, squinted to really observe his abandoned friend. The long hair, the scruff, the desolate gaze. He’d changed. There was a life lost in his eyes. His gaze settled on the armband presented on his bicep. “Of what?”

He raised an arm. “Of this place.” Eren glanced around the dark room. The waitress returned with two drinks, dismissed herself when there were no further requests. “This country.”

Armin shook his head in disbelief, took a small sip and restrained the recoil. “You don’t even want to ask how I am first?”

Eren smiled, yet it didn’t reach his eyes. “I thought I was.” Bland. Lightless. Shallow. “Are you not your own thoughts? Your own beliefs?” Eren matched Armin’s stare. Armin could see it in his eyes. Cold. Lifeless.

Armin scoffed, shook his head. “Is this where you’ve been all this time?” He ignored the interrogation in favor of his own. “Alone at a bar in a foreign country?”

Eren rubbed his thumb against the side of the glass. “I’m expanding my horizons. Isn’t that what we always dreamed of?”

There was a beat of silence. Eren pointed towards the dart board across the table. “Do you want to play darts?”

“I’ve never played.” Armin crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re deflecting my question.”

Eren gave him a false smile. “As you are with mine.” He stood up. “It’s easy. If I know you, you’ll catch on quickly.”

If. Armin rolled his eyes. He could practically hear Eren’s train of thought. It has been a while, hasn’t it? If you’re still the same as I knew you—if you haven’t changed significantly after all these years. Do you still have that quick wit, that quick comprehension? Do I still understand you? Do you still know me?

Eren was unsightly now. Haggard and alone, blasé and tired and distraught. Before, he always wore his heart on his sleeve, always expressed and showed what he was thinking, who he was. His stable instability. Was this who he became once he’d left? Was this who he was destined to become? Or had he changed into a deliberate façade, fabricated a new reality to deceive those of this country? Deceive his friends?

The question nagged at him. Did Armin still know him? A friend he’d assumed he’d know for life. A relationship he’d perhaps taken advantage of. Assumed to be forever.

The rules were easy enough to understand. Maybe Eren did still know him. Maybe Armin just didn’t know Eren.

“I know you like a challenge,” Eren spoke, and Armin noticed a depth to his voice, beyond that of mere puberty and maturity. “Let’s do 701.” Armin could hear the unspoken: Let’s draw this out. Let’s get to know each other again. Let me see if you are who I remember—who I think you’ve become.

Eren, who have you become?

“I’ll play under one condition.” Eren glanced at his friend from across the table as he sorted the darts, placed three on the high-top table. “A question per round.” Eren smiled in humorless amusement. “An answer per round.”

“If it convinces you to play.” Eren took another sip. Armin watched as it effortlessly slid down his throat, glanced at his own drink in slight disgust. He wondered how frequently Eren spent his lone nights here, how many of these bitter ales Eren has consumed over this year alone, let alone the past three. “Let’s do five rounds.”

Eren stepped to the side and gestured to Armin with his hand, indicating that Armin should lead the first round.

Armin took a deep breath and closed one eye. Focused carefully and threw his first dart. The sound of the dart colliding with the board echoed. Double 16.

Eren hummed in consideration. “Figured as much,” he muttered with a grin.

He expected Armin to be a natural. Hand-eye coordination and a focus beyond skill. A talent, a birthright. To be accurate and precise and knowing.

Armin ignored the comment and tossed the second dart. Double 20.

“Why are you here?” Armin asked, focused on the board ahead, the third dart steady in his hands. He narrowed his eyes, focused on the target. “In Marley,” he clarified. He threw the dart. Double 20.

Eren stood up, loudly placed his glass back on the table. “I told you,” he answered vaguely, picked up his own darts from the table as Armin collected his pieces off the board. “Seeing the world. Observing. Exploring.”

Armin narrowed his eyes at Eren, dissatisfied. Disbelieving.

Eren continued, almost like he could feel the disapproval from Armin’s stare. He stood in position. “What else can I say? I’m a scout at heart.” He threw his first dart. Bull’s eye. “Surveying is what we do best.”

He narrowed his eyes at Armin, returned the scrutinizing stare. “Wasn’t that what we always talked about?” He threw the second dart. “Seeing the world beyond the walls.” Bull’s eye.

It was almost like a display of skill. An intentional taunt. Look how good I am. Look how much better I am than you. Without you.

Armin leaned back in the chair, tilted his head to the side. “Is that your question?”

Eren glanced at him briefly. “Do you want it to be?” He chuckled loosely, blandly. Eren continued before Armin could answer. “I find it ironic that we always imagined beyond the walls, yet here we are, still trapped within them. Maybe we seek what we already know.”

Armin raised a brow. Eren’s face twisted into a light scowl.

“Confinement.”

Bull’s eye.

“The world beyond our walls is more walls,” Eren continued, collecting his darts. “Borders and imaginary lines in the sand. Beauty and blood in the stone. Divisions between countries and people.”

Armin laughed out of discomfort. Though Liberio and Marley harbored more walls, they were made of different stone, of different values. It was a different life here than in Paradis. Armin decided there was beauty in that difference, more meaning in the detail. “That’s what you came here to see?”

Eren lightly scoffed, took another sip. “That’s what I’ve concluded. We are cattle wherever we go.” He made eye contact, a fire finally lit beneath the irises. “We seek what we already know.” Armin stared in disbelief. Eren pointed to the board. “It’s your turn.” The phrase was duplicitous. “What brought you here?”

Armin stood, took a brief sip of the revolting drink to diffuse the shock on his face. Was this who Eren had become? Was this who he always was?

“Well, at first, to look for you,” Armin answered honestly, twirling the dart between two fingers. “Mikasa and Levi went to Hizuru.” The dart pierced the board. Triple 12. He threw the second almost immediately after. “Jean and I came here.” Bull’s eye.

Armin paused, briefly glanced over at Eren and noticed the glaze over his eyes, the vague stare at the floor.

“We stopped looking. Of course, that’s when I found you.”

“And here you are.”

“Here I am,” Armin repeated blankly, “and here you are.” He pointed to Eren with the back end of his last dart. “In a random bar drinking bad beer.” Armin turned back to the board, prepared to throw the third and hesitated. “Did you… think of us before you left?”

Armin aimed carefully and let the dart hit the board. Triple 18. He turned to Eren, noticed his fixed intensity on the board. Noticed the blank stare, his sunken features, his deflated stature.

The blond collected his darts from the board and returned to his seat. Witnessed the unchanging state of his friend.

“Yes,” Eren answered after a few moments, stood up to take his place in front of the board. He rapid-fire threw two darts, gripping them tightly between his fingers. The ligands and veins arched out of the skin in his hands and wrists from how tight he held them. Two bull’s eyes.

He went silent. Armin observed him curiously. Witnessed the truth flooding into Eren’s face, the suppressed misery caressing his demeanor. Like a tight hug from his late mother, the sunken memories came back to the surface, encompassed and swallowed him whole.

Eren’s body tensed, his muscles flexed, his veins surfaced. He swallowed tightly.

The noise of the third dart hitting the board echoed. Bull’s eye.

“What do you think of Marley?” He sat down in the chair, dropped the darts onto the table and finished his drink.

Armin threw his first dart as he debated his answer. Triple 19.

How he felt was conflicting and contradictory. The mountains and hills and grasslands and lakes were beautiful and beguiling. The different nation and its rulings were interesting. The art and the concept of history preservation were foreign and exalting and challenging. The walls and armbands were oppressive. The people were depressed and unpleasant, reluctant to converse with those they were unfamiliar, with those who didn’t present a certain way. The people were determined to follow routine, obsessed with status quo and normalcy.

The similarities to Paradis were striking. The differences were stark and thought-provoking.

He threw his second dart, still debating his answer. Triple 18.

Eren hummed. If there were one takeaway from his thoughts, his memories: silence was, in itself, an answer.

A loud one.

“I have many thoughts.” He faltered in the final throw. Double 20. “Too many to verbalize.” Armin sat down in the chair, leaned into the back.

He considered his next question while Eren prepared his first throw. There were so many things he wanted to know, so many questions he wanted to ask. Did you really have to leave? What are you doing here? What are you planning? Why do you always have to do it all alone?

He asked the question that’s been eating him alive the past three years. The question he and Mikasa have debated a thousand times. There had to have been a reason—a good reason. He stared at his once close friend—the friend who now seemed so far away; the one who fell from the edge of the earth. Why did you abandon us now? After everything we’ve been through together?

Armin asked during Eren’s first throw. “Why did you leave us behind?” Bull’s eye. “You could’ve told us.” Armin leaned over the table, the sadness weighing down his voice. “You should’ve trusted us.”

Eren sighed heavily, aimed for his next toss.

Could he have? Were you prepared to bear the weight of the world? The burden of past, present, and future sins? The responsibilities of generations before and after? Of people you’ve never met, but you’ve never felt more connected to?

Carving angels into demons. Demons out of angels. Was it ever a task to be done as a team? Wasn’t he always meant to do it alone?

“I miss her,” was his answer. Quiet. Honest. Off beat. Off topic. “It was not an easy decision to make.” He glanced over at Armin, a straight face with complicated eyes. “If you tell her that, I’ll kill you,” he continued, deadpanned, staring right into Armin’s soul as he tossed the dart. The contact with the board echoed, resonated with his words. Bull’s eye.

Eren didn’t break eye contact with him. He held the final dart tight in his grip. “In this lifetime.” He briefly looked towards the board, did two quick adjustments and threw the torpedo. Triple 20. He looked back to Armin. “And the next.”

There was darkness in his eyes. A myriad of emotions that Armin didn’t think he could name. Despair? No—despondence, maybe. Detached and resolute, depressed and concerned. A solemn resignation to a fate he couldn’t share. A solid determination to a future he swore to create.

Did you have to do it alone? Do you still?

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Eren shrugged as he gathered his darts from the board. Nonchalantly walked back to the chair.

Because I had to.

“There isn’t a good enough reason.”

I need to.

He glanced at nothing in particular. The same abandoned, withered expression he’d worn all evening plastered on his young face. “That you can tell her.”

He glanced up, gave the semblance of a smile, a grin that triggered memories of when they were younger. Armin stared at him. It was hard to believe they were still so young after all they’d been through. After all they’d done and learned. After all the death and excitement and turmoil and cruelty they’d endured.

“Do you believe we can define ourselves?” Eren asked, so uncertainly that Armin wasn’t positive the question was directed towards him at all. “Or are we born pre-defined? Pre-destined. Like it’s all by design.”

Armin positioned himself with the first dart. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to throw it.

Their time together was waning. The rounds were coming to an end, and he had a sinking suspicion this would be it for quite some more time.

Until Eren was ready to let them in. In on his plan. In on his life. Were they always so separated? It hadn’t felt like it before now.

He threw the first dart. Bull’s eye.

Maybe we always were. Maybe under the surface, it was never there. Always superficial, you and I.

“You said it yourself earlier,” Armin answered softly, lining up his next throw. “We are defined by our experiences, our beliefs, our thoughts, our memories.” Bull’s eye. “Though I don’t think it’s permanent or set in stone. We are influenced by these things. We are fluid. Our decisions can be as well. Who we become can change if we will it, if we try.”

He heard Eren scoff, checked over his shoulder to see the brunet finishing Armin’s drink.

“What if you’ve always been this way?” Eren followed. “What if you’ve always believed that, so that’s just who you are? That never changed. You never changed.” The glass slammed against the table, the reverberations shaking the other empty one.

The dart hit the board and Eren glanced up. Bull’s eye. “You’re the same Armin I always knew.”

“You’re different to the Eren I always knew,” Armin responded. “I’m different.”

He shook his head. “We are just more committed to who we always were. Became more of who we were always meant to be.”

Armin stared incredulously. Did he even recognize him? Is he overthinking it? Over-analyzing? Like he always did?

“What are you planning to do here, Eren?” His question felt too vague, so he immediately followed up with, “What is your purpose in being here?”

Eren smiled in amusement. “Get three bull’s eyes.” He dropped his smile, faced the board. “Win in the end.”

First dart. Bull’s eye.

Armin rolled his eyes. “Did you always picture yourself here? In a damp bar playing darts? Is this the ‘you’ you’re leaning into? The ‘you’ you can’t change?”

Second dart. Bull’s eye.

“Did you ever picture a life outside those walls?”

“Don’t answer my question with another question.”

“I know you did.” Eren aimed carefully. “Did you ever picture it like this?”

Third dart. Bull’s eye.

Armin stood, replaced Eren’s position. “What are you implying?”

He shrugged callously. “I always pictured something grander. A world uninhabited. Empty. Free.” He played with the empty glass. “Just the three of us.” He made eye contact. “Free from everyone and everything.”

Armin threw his first dart. Triple 17. “What are you planning to do, Eren?”

He shrugged. “I’m building towards my destiny.”

Armin laughed lightly. “Have you become religious now?” Second throw. Triple 19. “All this talk about fate and destiny. Is this what Marley has done to you?”

He expected a chuckle or a bemused breath, but received only a soft hum. “Yes, you could say that.”

Final throw. Double 20. “That’s 0.”

Eren nodded. “Well done. You’re a natural.” He didn’t move.

“It’s your turn.” Armin placed his darts back in the holster. “You have 91.”

Eren threw the first dart quickly, like he were trying to finish before Armin could interrogate him further. Delve deep into his mind and discover his thoughts. Double 20.

“I’ve enjoyed this game with you, Armin,” Eren said sincerely, “I mean that.”

Second throw. A 1.

“I meant all of it, you know.” Bull’s eye. “It was a good game.”

I did it all for you. All of you.

“For a minute there I thought you’d let me win,” Armin joked, taking Eren’s darts off the board for him and placing them in the holster.

Eren put on his trench coat while Armin was preoccupied. “This isn’t the battle you’re meant to win.”

Eren paused before walking away, before intending to disappear into the foreign nation again. “Take care, Armin.” He waved without turning around, started to walk into the crowd. “’Till next time.”

[willbyersenthusiast]

since i won’t shut up about Found Heaven, here’s a list of songs i think are very byler coded:

Found Heaven (the title track)

Alley Rose

The Final Fight

Miss You

Forever With Me

Eye Of The Night (kind of)

Winner (kind of)

and yk what while i’m here im gonna explain the reasons i think so;

Found Heaven:

i already explained this in a previous post (idk how to link them so have fun scrolling) but i will give a brief explanation; the song is about internalized homophobia and it’s basically conan telling his younger self it’s okay, or at least that’s how i perceive it, so i see this as a mike wheeler song. it can be will too but will is more out of the closet than mike tbf.

Alley Rose:

this one is kind of more about yearning and wanting but not before the relationship, it’s after it. they’re also kind of nervous around each other (especially mike) in season 4. the line “i waited all year at your feet like maybe you’d love me” is so them because they both waited for the other to reach out when Will moved to Lenora.

for the bridge, will is so worried about his best friend hating him because he’s gay and in love with him. “i thought if you’d ever leave me that i’d be the reason why.” and will again for the last little bit of the bridge saying “i swore hands were made for fighting, i swore eyes were made to cry, but you’re the first person that i’ve seen whose proven that might be a lie.” it’s kind of self explanatory in a way because will grew up in an abusive household. and for “don’t leave me hanging alone again.” i feel it fits both of them but also mike, because mike told will he felt like he was losing him and he wanted to be best friends again in s4

The Final Fight:

i feel like this one says how will wants to tell mike how much mike hurt him, and how he really upset him. he probably wants himself to get over mike and thinks this will help him (but it’ll just make mike confess😏 [hopefully].

Miss You:

this one makes me think of Mike telling Will how he misses him and how he felt like he “lost you or something.” and how “it’s not hawkins without you.” in season 4. and he knows he’s been a douche a little asshat (you can tell i’m a little upset with this mike lmao) but he wants “to be friends again. Best friends”

Forever With Me:

holy fucking shit this one. this song. i see this as Will yearning for Mike and wanting to be with him forever. “I ain’t sorry, though i should probably be. I think i’m gonna love you. You’re forever with me.” THIS SCREAMS WILL BYERS. “you are the reason i learned to love. Also the reason i cry” holy fucking SHIIIITTTT

Eye Of The Night:

i perceive this song as “this person haunts me. i see them everywhere and i can’t escape them” so it kind of reminds me of how they like always come back to each other? idk this one just kinda makes me think of them 💀

Winner:

this song (mainly just the pre-chorus and the chorus) makes me think of the rain fight. Will’s pov to be specific. i see it as Will saying “yeah you won you made me feel like shit, are you happy??” ykwim? OH AND THE SECOND VERSE “yet you have the nerve to miss me. how do i somehow feel guilty when you’re the one who let it get this bad” HOLY SHIT THATS LITERALLY THEIR FIGHT AT RINK-O-MANIA. like mike blaming will for not reaching out in the heat of the moment and therefore will blames himself too.

anyways that’s my little rant done GO STREAM FOUND HEAVEN ITS AMAZING AND IT HAS SUCH A DAZZLING 80S VIBE ITS MY FAVORITE THING RN GO LISTEN TO IT PLEASE ITS LIFE CHANGING

[purlturtle]

The New Farmhand - a Bering and Wells Stardew Valley Flufftober fic!

I wrote a mostly fluffy @flufftober fic that managed to fill 33 of the prompts! And I made a manip for it too! And I finished it within the month! I am hella proud of myself, so here's one last post about it.

Full list of prompts filled, and completionist badge, under the cut!

Chapter 1:

Mundane AU - the entire fic is set in a Stardew Valley without Junimo magic. And it's also a Warehouse 13 Mundane AU, because there are no artifacts! Double whammy!

Lost Pet Meet Cute

Heirloom

"Left. Other left!"

Chapter 2:

Favorite scent

Attic, cellar, hidden room

"This is spooky." - "Really?"

Chapters 3 and 4 didn't fill any prompts

Chapter 5:

Ingredients & spells

Haunted house

Afternoon stroll

Chapter 6:

Yarn

Chapter 7:

Stormy night

Chapter 8:

Chopping wood

Market day (here: Harvest Festival Day in Pelican Town)

Bet, game, contest

Chapter 9:

Bewitched

Bonfire

"I can't find it."

"Forever?"

Make a wish

Chapter 10:

"What are you wearing?" - "It's laundry day!"

Yes, no, maybe

Rainy day

Hoodie weather

Comfort food

Acorn, chestnut, pine cone

Paw

Chapter 11:

"I've got you."

Chapter 12:

Mistaken identity

Written but never sent

Epilogue:

"I hate it." - "No, you don't."

Porch swing

Time capsule

I know I didn't fill the prompts in order; that was never my intention. I've been struggling with writing for a while now, so when I saw the prompt list and my mind immediately went to "Stardew Valley AU!", I was just glad that I was inspired; I didn't want to heap too much of a challenge onto that and smother it. And so I took the prompts and arranged them in a story progression that made sense to me, rather than try and hammer a story into a pre-determined shape that might not fit.

I started outlining back in August, and writing in September. I finished the fic on October 29, after ten days of hellish migraines that had me doubt if I could do it after all. 30K words in two months! I don't know when I last managed that!!

I don't think I've ever been prouder of an achievement, of a challenge accomplished. Hell yeah, me. Good job.

[allmightyscroll-swag]

thinking about sex with a ghost by teddy hyde as a harry and dora animatic where hes being haunted by memories he cant quite remember but could never actually forget ... the struggle with relapsing and returning to bad ways but holding on to the fact that that was the past and this is the present and he doesnt have to be that kind of animal anymore

---------------------

GOING INSANEEEEEEE!!!!!

"the only time I ever see her,

Is when she's behind me in the mirror"

Idk why but this like specifically just. Caught me. The only time he can ever see her is as a reflection, not the real thing. Lost memories, warped by his brain trying to piece them together. Is it really Dora he's seeing, or is it Dolores Dei?

"Even from a distance I can hear her,

Try to listen, but her whispers make my ears hurt"

The calls. She's in Mirova. In the final dream, Dolores/Dora keeps repeating that she'll be late for the aerostatic. Harry doesn't listen, keeps pushing, pulling, reaching; begging. Could also be him attempting to remember how they were before. Before it all started going to shit. But he can't, not well at least. Remembering when there was love there hurts.

And then the immediate following lines;

"And on our dates, it's never daytime,

When she gets playful with a steak knife,

I need a break, maybe I'll take five,

Shake it up and medicate, maybe I'll take five."

In my mind head I imagine the 'dates' being dreams/nightmares,,, fragments of memories intertwined with his imagination

And then, waking up in the middle of the night, possibly being hangover from a relapse, or being on the verge of one.

BUTTT THAT'S JUST MY THOUGHTS!!! I AM ABSOLUTELY INSANE. AS ALWAYS

Actually reminds me of a song I was listening to today, Two Poltergeists (yt link) by Dalton Deschain and the Travelling Show, ALSO IN RELATION TO HARRY AND DORA- both pre and post breaking up.

("Thought we'd survive, if we ignore the things that go bump in the night" is a line from that song and I keep thinking about it in relation to Harry and Dora trying to ignore or push past the issues in their relationship,,, URGH. Also "were sleeping in the same bed, but in two different haunted houses" in relation to the distance and dissatisfaction growing bewteen them) (BUT I COULD GO ON SO ILL LEAVE IT HERE)

[thefirstknife]

I have multiple questions, of which may be already known to people who've played the gamr recently (I personally came back for Lightfall, left after the raid). Don't feel pressured to answer all of them.

Has there ever been an instance where a known Exo Guardian undergoes a reset but still have to do their duties as a Guardian?

What has Eris and Drifter been up to since Beyond Light? Have they continued to communicate with the Nine?

On resurrection, does a Ghost become aware of everything that their Chosen knows about? Do they share a mental bond that ties them together? Can one hear ones thoughts? And on that line of thought, would that stop a Ghost from resurrecting a known Ghostless Guardian like Osiris?

Hi!

First question: seems like the answer is no. Exo Guardians that went through a reset are extremely rare and so far it seems none of them really resumed doing the same. From Lakshmi-2's search:

Historical Basis for Spontaneous Reset Syndrome —Heyka-3/4: Notorious Dark Ages Warlord. Post-reset, became a lone raider. —Vander-2/3: Rescued from the Great Disaster because reset incapacitated him. Served as City guard post-reset. Ghost destroyed on Luna. (Pre- or post-reset? Do Ghosts protect Exo Guardians from spontaneous reset?) —Lilakee-5/6/7: Curious case. Known sufferer of severe DER-related nightmares and outbursts. Commandeered a jumpship and vanished. —Selass-7/8: Technician sent to data mine Titan settlements. Reset occurred in return transit. Post-reset, remained research technician assisting Cryptarchs.

It's unclear for Heyka-3/4 what "lone raider" means, but given they were a Warlord first and then stopped, it probably means that simply resuming the same duties is unlikely. Vander-2/3 is also curious since we know for a fact they were a Guardian, but they lost their Ghost in the Great Disaster. Being a City guard is not the same as being a Guardian, but that could also be because they lost their Ghost, and not because of the reset. For the last two, it's not clear if they were Guardians. But given that they all changed their jobs, it's very likely that a Guardian that underwent the reset would no longer act the same and would probably not take up the same duties as a Guardian after the reset. They'd most certainly be excused in some way.

Second: Eris and Drifter did not resume speaking to the Nine, so far and that we know of! Drifter is always kinda tangled up with them due to the nature of Gambit, but he hasn't done much with them since Prophecy. I definitely expect the Nine to pop up again some time, maybe this year? I'd expect Drifter to be a part of any storyline with them.

Instead, Eris and Drifter worked together on some egregore research back in Haunted and they also worked together on Nezarec's relics in Plunder for a bit. They both have ties to this sort of Darkness stuff, Drifter especially since he both had a relic himself and he also has egregore in his ship. We've not had much updates on Eris since Plunder, though we do know that she's friendly with Eido and shares tea with her. Drifter on the other hand is still shown as actively helping the Eliksni in the City.

Third: Ghosts definitely share a bond with their Guardians, though I'm not sure if it's mental. There's definitely something more and metaphysical going on when a Ghost and a Guardian bond. For example, Fynch claims that he can hear his dead Hive Knight, both before he was chosen at all and now that he's dead.

I know. I know you don't want to be dead. I know that! You think I don't know that?!

I watched you shoot a Guardian. And her GHOST. Dead. All because I could hear you, in the back of my mind, needing me to bring you back. And I listened. I listened to the others… then to you… to everyone except myself.

I didn't expect miracles, but… I expected something!

Yes, you're dead now. And I can hear you—but I can't. Don't you get it? I just. Can't!

It's impossible to say if this is standard; Fynch having a Hive Lightbearer might have something to do with it, but maybe it's something that all Ghosts feel. However, beyond this very strange effect that death in general has on Ghosts and Guardians, it's unclear if this bond manifests as Ghosts being aware and able to hear their Guardian's thoughts at all time.

I'd say it's not applied broadly to the relationship between them, as Ghosts and Guardians still have to talk to properly communicate. For example, Ikora had a bad relationship with her Ghost Ophiuchus and stopped talking to him for 61 years (!). When she spoke to him for the first time after that, he was shocked. He spent all of that time just observing her. If a Ghost could simply mentally connect with their Guardian, then this communication issue between them wouldn't have impacted him that much.

Speaking of Ophiuchus, and related to the question, he and Sagira had an interesting conversation once about the reason for Ghosts having only one Guardian.

Anyway, O said he had a theory why there was one Ghost for one Guardian. He thought that each of us had strengths that complemented weaknesses in our Guardian, and vice versa. That we needed to be together, or neither of us would be whole.

"Like soul mates?" I asked. "Because I'm not in love with Osiris or anything. Not only would that be really weird, he kinda gets on my nerves a lot of the time."

"It is not a romantic attachment," O said. If he had eyes, he would have rolled them at me. "It is my belief that the Traveler understood that normal people would not be enough to protect humanity. That it would take those who are extraordinary in both body and spirit. And that only by the merging of Ghost and Guardian into a single unit could this be accomplished."

Interesting! Ghosts don't really agree on matters like this and they tend to have a lot of different opinions on their own nature and the nature of the bond between a Ghost and a Guardian. But a bond definitely exists and is probably a reason why a Ghost will not pick another Guardian or why a Guardian that lost their Ghost won't pick another Ghost.

The relationship between a Ghost and a Guardian is unique and emotional and very deep so the idea of just getting another Ghost, like they're a tool, is deeply unsettling to most. It's technically possible, but most (both Ghosts and Guardans) will simply choose not to try due to the emotional toll. Similarly, an unpartnered Ghost will most likely never choose to pick a Guardian that already had a Ghost but lost it, because that unpartnered Ghost must have their own Guardian somewhere.

The one exception is, as usual, Shin Malphur who inherited Jaren Ward's Ghost. This has somewhat more sense when you know that Jaren and Shin were basically father and son so Jaren's Ghost was already deeply familiar with Shin and had a bond with him as well. We're still unclear if Jaren's Ghost can have full functionality with Shin though. Shin already had a Ghost prior, as a baby, but it died. Shin's situation is very complicated overall so it's not entirely useful as an example, but it's worth mentioning in this case.

[autumnslance]

Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by @sheepwithspecs technically on my main but this is where fanfic goes. Do this if you wanna!

How many works do you have on AO3?

47 as of 2/6/24. There's a few things I need to get around to adding there though.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

411,290 as of 2/6/24

What are your top 5 fics by kudos

Downtime (compilation of younger Scions & other teen chars being pals in Norvrandt) Unexpected (compilation of shippy nonsense) A Constant Distant Thunder (Thancred in ARR patches post-Lahabrea) Ruminations (General Warrior of Light introspections & adventures) Rogue's Prelude (My headcanons on Thancred meeting Louisoix, Papalymo, and Yda)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I usually do! I often try to. So my comment count is almost, not quite though, doubled.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hrm; I tend to do a lot of bittersweet endings. We'll keep it simple and say "Never Gets Easier", a fic where Edmont and Charlemend talk about their lost sons. There's no sweetness there, just men haunted by mistakes and losses.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Maybe "When Everything Changes" which is kid fic from the POV of my WoL's older brother when she's born and his ambivalence turns to big brother joy and love.

Do you write crossovers?

Haven't yet.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not that I recall.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Occasionally. Usually pretty vanilla. It's all right, I guess.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Had an OC's backstory on our WoW RP server's fic blogging site lifted wholesale; they changed the names and class, and then…walked into our weekly guild meeting that I was leading and tried to join our guild. When confronted, the person claimed their partner had leveled the character for them and based the backstory on Skyrim (my OC's story is very specific to WoW). They tried to message me later as if we were pals who would laugh this off someday. I informed them that was not a thing and btw the site mods knew they were a plagiarist now. Also everyone knew who their alts were and a bunch of other trouble they'd caused. So far as I know, they bailed from our server after that.

I hoped they learned better and grew up quite a bit; this was well over a decade ago.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Once or twice now; so long as folks credit and link back to my originals, and share the translated link with me, it's all good!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Roleplay and actual story collaboration both. It's a lot of fun.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

How dare you.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

*stares at WIP folder*

Come back with a warrant.

(I won't say never, but there's a lot that probably are just noodling and scraps to feed something else later)

What are your writing strengths?

Folks seem to like my dialogue.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Impatience, and certain grammatical abuses that do nothing for length nor clarity.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Depends on the fic. Depends on the intended audience.

For dialects, mostly the concern is "don't overdo it" as it can slow things down, be really jarring at best and offensive at worst, and difficult to understand if laying it on too thick.

Other languages entirely have different guidelines though, from sprinkling in single words or short phrases, to entire passages, and whether or not you translate or leave it up to the reader. Depends on fandom, on the characters, on the story, author intentions.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Narnia, in a my little girl diary as a pre-teen. I wanted to pick up Susan's story as a grown up and bring her and family back to a magical land. Cuz I knew it could, would happen someday, even if Lewis never got to write it himself.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Final Fantasy XVI. Midst. The latter is tricky as I really don't have ideas at the moment, but really want to dig into that vibe. My writing needs to be more weird in general, really.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

How dare you, come back with a warrant!