#considering making this a full fic

[fistfuloflightning]

What is that…thing? I was hoping you’d be able to tell me. Because I certainly can’t.

Bai Zhan Peak disciple Shen Yuan and Zui Xian disciple Shen Jiu—mostly for Battle Twink/Drunkard-by-Necessity-Asshole-by-Choice shenanigans

Jiuyuan Week Day 3: QJPL SJ/other peak SY (in which I yet again ignore half the prompt and say they’re both from different peaks)

[frankiebirds]

what an incredibly normal and not at all autistic thing to say! (lying)

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

gang. im doing it. im finally reading TGCF

[invinciblevalentine]

atp i would snort reeve tuesti fic like cocaine.

if anyone knows any fics that put reeve through the blender like “Son” by She_sees_in_the_dark or “Through Another’s Eyes” by CorsairOriginal—

i need to see that man under enough pressure to make a diamond crack. For my health.

[catflowerqueen]

Okay, I figured out the exact wish the Running One could have made that would enable them to remember the loops... as well as possibly be what prevented Dormont from getting frozen in the initial attack.

When Siffrin is asking around about wishes, they tell them "I asked for Vaugarde to be saved, of course!"

But I think their exact wording, and the wish held deeply in their heart, was more like "I wish that Vaugarde will be saved so no time or freezing shenanigans will stop me from experiencing the joy of running."

And they were probably running around the Favor Tree at the time of doing so--stirring up the leaves and such. Perhaps accidentally stepping on a few in a way that led to them becoming folded over. Their obsession with running such that the "number of times that felt right" to "whisper" their wish was just the once.

So--no freezing of Dormont until the very end because that is the simplest way to stop the King's time stuff from interfering with their hobby. And even if the Saviors had failed, then they just would have needed to be frozen in the same way as Act 5 King, perpetually stuck in the moment of joy. And in between those possibilities, them remembering every loop because to forget any would mean they couldn't explore the joy of running they'd experienced during that particular one.

...Possibly also not being able to think too deeply about the implications of eternal looping through time specifically because doing so would also run the risk of ruining the joy... but, honestly, I don't think it ever would have come to that. Because it is way funnier to imagine that their obsession is 100% their own, no outside influences needed.

[connecting-the-stars]

Character dynamics I apparently love:

Peeta and Obi-wan: loving the one person who actually see them and expects nothing in return, willing to build bridges as slowly as their loved one needs.

Falls first. It’s okay, the distance does not diminished my love.

Katniss and Cody: violently distrustful of the person who seems too kind that they rationalize it as a scheming act to lower their guard. Incredibly defensive to the person they haven’t fallen in love with quite yet.

Falls later, like a rock from a cliff. 10 to 1000. Terrifying level of devotion.

[muirmarie]

Me: I joke about writing the same McCoy centric story over and over again in different ways

Me: and like. I love doing it and imma keep doing it because it makes me happy.

Me: but also. I do sometimes wonder if it's like. A little Much.

Me: like maybe I should branch out or something

Me: [reads another fundamental and extremely insulting misread of McCoy's character by someone who is clearly making a Choice to cast McCoy as the villain, because they have to get him out of the way of spirk, because they're too???? idk immature??? to realize that even when you're in a relationship with one person, other ppl can and SHOULD still be important to you]

Me: lmao I hope I AM too much actually!!!! I hope it is 100% obnoxious how much I love that doctor!!!!! Time to write more versions of the same story of McCoy being forced to realize that he is loved and cared for!!!!!!

Me: I KNOW MY NICHE AND IMMA DIE IN THAT NICHE, THANKS

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

Reminder for the dpxdc writers!

Yeah I know lots of us get canon and fanon confused and some never watched Danny Phantom which is why I’m going to *friendly remind everyone* that if you don’t want to use the Ghost King Danny thing, it’s—it’s fanon. Like. You do not need to go out of your way to make it Not A Thing, if you find it’s hindering your plot line or whatever. You don’t have to write around it. At this point, you might need to clarify it’s not something you’re doing, since it’s so common, but like—if I have to read one more plot where they’re twisted up in knots to avoid it, like. Pls. You can do what you want and that includes this, we already disregard canon all the time, you can buck common fanon as well I’m—

That’s not to say I’m against Ghost King Danny, but I’m starting to think it’s one of those things people are afraid to stray from because they think it’s it’s one of the more… pillar parts? Of Danny’s character and canon? When it’s, like, not. If you want to write in reasons why he’s not king and etc etc you CAN, it’s your story and maybe it even serves your plot or tone or you just want to, but you can also just not even have it be a consideration. You’re free to just not do it.

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Legacy gives me biter vibes, or at least nibbler.

Could I get a short fic on that + cuddles?

:3

ABSOLUTELY i will also shake your hand in agreement

Legacy's asleep when you get home tonight, tucked under mounds of blankets to hide from the growing chill of outdoors as winter approaches. he only stirs when you sneak close, slipping a hand under to gently poke the center of his forehead, and it draws a drowsy, surprised trill from your favorite Abyssal monster, the pile of quilts and covers shifting and wriggling until his head finally pops out all mussed and sleepy. you grin, and he lazily sticks his tongue to lick your hand, drawing it into his mouth and gnawing gently at your skin. it's an easy invitation, his claws holding up the blankets just long enough for you to slip under before they quickly wrap around both of you again. Legacy's head presses against your shoulder, then your cheek and forehead, the bridge of your nose- his version of a tender kiss, nuzzling his fanged maw gingerly against you

he nudges your cheek again, leaving a cheeky lick before gently biting down, stretching it just a little. a soft, delighted rumble leaves his chest when you yelp, giving him a lighthearted shove. but you squirm and laugh, the sound carrying hints of Childe's boisterous chuckle that you've picked up on over the years. it's the same with your hums, the quiet, deep sounds that Legacy had shared with you in exchange for your words, his tongue forming your name and the phrase "I love you". the beast in your arms purrs smoothly, pulling you swiftly against his chest and resting your head on his soft lilac fluff. keep you safe, keep his beloved mortal warm and comfortable- his arms squeeze lightly around your waist as he snuggles, partially on top of you, a heavy, armored, weighted moth-blanket cuddled happily against you

you shift slightly to scratch under his chin, and Legacy's joyful trills and croons fill the room once more

[morganbritton132]

I need Eddie's jealous moments!!!!!

yk... for research

Eddie once came home from a three-week stint playing shows in middle-of-nowhere Ohio to find a man sitting on his couch. Steve was newly diagnosed and newly moved in, and Eddie was prepared for anything.

Except for a man sitting on his couch. A very distinctly Tommy H-shaped man, sitting way too comfortably and way too close to his boyfriend. On his couch.

Eddie was expecting throw pillows not – “Hagan.”

“Munson.”

Eddie wasn’t due back until tomorrow and Steve is surprised to see him, and he’s happy. He lights up like Christmas, but this is not the homecoming that Eddie was expecting. He still gets a hug, but it doesn’t linger and it doesn’t lead to where he wants them to go (the bedroom). Steve awkwardly pats him on the shoulder when he pulls away like they’re bros.

It’s kind of obvious that Steve had some of his jock friends from high school over to watch the game because the people on tv are talking about sports and there’s a letterman jacket too big for Steve or Tommy forgotten on the kitchen floor. The fact that Tommy is the only one that remains irks Eddie though.

It sets his teeth on edge, especially when Steve settles back on the couch and Tommy refills the space next to him like they were still friends. Tommy throws his arm over Steve’s shoulder, absently touching his hair the way that he always did in school. Steve might not notice it, but Eddie does.

It ain’t subtle. Not to Eddie, who knows what it looks like to be in love with Steve Harrington.

He’s not dumb. Eddie might be out of town just as much as he’s in it nowadays, but he knows what the rumors are about why Steve is living here. He also knows that if he was the one harboring a crush on a boy since grade school and there was even the slightest change that he might be gay than Eddie would be here too. Testing the waters.

Too bad for Tommy though because this is Eddie’s pool.

Despite the loud and obnoxious presence pressed up against Steve’s side and Steve awkwardly reintroducing them to each other, Eddie still asks, “You have people over?”

“Wayne said it was okay.”

“Course it is,” Eddie grinned. “You live here, sweetheart.”

Steve tells Eddie how Tommy was home from college for the long weekend and about the game of telephone that led to him hosting his friends. He even tells Eddie how he recorded the game on tape to watch with Wayne later. Eddie listens and he maybe agreed to watch the rerun with them, but he’s waiting. He’s watching Tommy squeeze the back of Steve’s neck and make some joke that’s not funny, and he’s waiting.

And it happens.

Steve asks Eddie how his shows went, and Eddie grins. He’s not an insecure man. Not about Steve and not about their relationship. Tommy can make all the moves he wants, Eddie knows where Steve’s sleeping tonight. So, he grins.

He startles them both with a running jump onto the coffee table and he takes up all the attention in the room, Tommy left an afterthought. Eddie regales his time in the far off land of Ohio. He paints a perilous picture of nights driving through cornfields and cows like an adventure. He recounts their shows like he’s slaying a dragon, and he draws Steve in like he knew he would.

He physically draws Steve closer, crouching down in front of him and putting his hands on his shoulders. One hand slides up to caress his cheek, and Steve leans into the touch. Eddie pulls him forward until he’s barely on the couch at all and Tommy is left leaning against nothing, and then Eddie pulls him to his feet.

High school Steve probably would’ve sneered at the Eddie of it all, but this Steve – his Steve – laughs and lets Eddie pull him where the story needs to go. He drags Steve through the living room as he weaves a tale in movement about Corroded Coffin’s harrowing battle against the one lone preacher protesting devil music.

Their feet get tangled together when Eddie zigs and Steve zags, and they end up toppled into Wayne’s favorite chair. Steve laughs in that way that squishes his whole face and he tells him without thought, “Missed you.”

Eddie knows that those are words that Tommy wants to hear. He knows the taste of a friendship lost and he knows that Tommy wants this, but this isn’t high school anymore. Tommy can’t just take what he wants. It’s a deep and settling smugness playing on Eddie’s lips because this his and he says, “I know.”

Tommy leaves with very little fanfare. Forest Hills may not be a castle, but it’s Eddie’s domain and Steve is a very captive audience. Tommy, at least, knows when to admit defeat.

He’s standing on the gravel outside of the trailer when he says, “I’ll drive you to that appointment Monday. What time was it?”

Before Steve could say anything, Eddie’s throwing his arm over Steve’s shoulder. He gives Tommy a grin that’s all sharp corners as he threads his fingers into Steve’s hair and tugs on it, “Don’t worry about it, Tommy-boy. I’ll handle it.”

Eddie only kinda feels like an asshole when he smudges Tommy’s name off the calendar stuck to the fridge later that night, but then he gets into his bed for the first time in three weeks. Steve curls up closer and Eddie finds it really hard to care about anything else.

[inarmes]

watching people come up with the notion that haymitch CAN be in a weird crazy rarepair that's not hetronormative is so fun to me. wooahhh now what if i told you i was already a supporter of that before you! and there were probably people who thought of it before me! and there IS a club of 2 or more people at least who fuck with it (me) (and sometimes ozzie) that you can join potentially! but then it's just me going on at you about my awful thoughts because i have gotten too insane

[apoplecticgalaxy]

So i was thinking about if the Peacekeepers had fortes. I might do other characters later on, like Yakou and Kurumi. But have this for now.

Martina was the easiest since her ability is just Interrogation. So I imagine her forte would be like. the ability to gain any information from interrogation. Being able to break someone to the point they tell the full, honest truth with nothing but her words. Like a human truth serum.

Yomi's could be something similar, given his ability is Torture. Buuut that's boring. So instead, what if his ability is that he can view parts of an incident from the victim's eyes if he inflicts the wounds they received onto himself. Obviously it wouldn't be to the same severity, that'd kill him, but just external marks from the wounds. His body would probably be able to withstand a lot more injury as a result, though. I think he'd hate that it has to be on himself, and has tried several times to use his forte with others, to no avail. When he meets Yuma and finds out about Coalescence, he gets really fucking excited. This could also add story to his cane. He uses it bc of a severe injury he gave himself that left him disabled.

Guillaume's Fortune Telling ability is pretty easy too. Her ability could be that she can learn about the crime by doing tarot readings. It'd be normal tarot cards, and it'd still have an interpretation aspect to it, but it'd be a reading with a slot for each category of the murder. Like one for the murder weapon, one for the scene, one for the time, etc.

Swank's is hard bc what the fuck kind of ability is Speed Eating, but I had an idea??? Idk if I like it. It could be like. different foods give him different abilities. Like carbs give him speed, proteins give him strength, and fats give intelligence. Itd be a mix of all of them depending on whats in the food he eats.

For Seth and Dominic i genuinely don't know, but I'll come back to this. If anyone has any ideas I'm open to them.

[oplishin]

headcanons centering main cast’s passive abilities

I just think having your power constantly manifest itself in some way would be pretty impactful on your life actually

If Remi goes into a room with a lot of complex electrical stuff going on (a computer lab maybe) she’ll start getting a headache from how overstimulating it is. She functions as a portable phone charger which Blyke and Isen take full advantage of. She can identify any circuitry problem by just. feeling how the electricity is flowing through the device

Seraphina always knows exactly what time it is down to the millisecond. John always asks her what time it is just to annoy her. 

arlo tried to get more piercings once, but it didn’t work because his passive defense stopped it from happening. Any sort of invasive medical procedure does Not work on him. This includes IVs and needles in general (he hasn’t gotten vaccinated in 2 years). honestly i have a million headcanons centering arlo’s passive and his theoretical medical trauma

John uses his aura detection to sneak up on people and jumpscare them. by people i do mean arlo. 

isen’s (not a high tier but i had the idea and wanted to put it here) eyes are based on tracking movement, so he has a really hard time with focusing on things that are stationary. what im saying is that his ability gave him both adhd and dyslexia. he has hair trigger reflexes that let him crush Blyke at video games which pisses Blyke off to no end.

[psychotic-nonsense]

------ TW For Body Horror ------

The Party was going to find out about The Board soon enough. Best it be by Vecna's own hand.

He launched each of his Generals individually over the past few weeks, allowing them to freely attack the useless military and letting their presence haunt the town's civilians. Taking care to keep The Party away from witnessing or interacting with the destruction.

He briefly gained control of one insignificant journalist, ordering it to document each of his Generals. Takes information from both his own intentions and The Imprisoned's explanations and discoveries. Orders it to lure in the two main researchers from The Party with it, and to hand all of the information over.

As the exchange happens he turns to the others. Left behind somewhere in the town, weakened and exhausted in mind and spirit. It's the last part of his plan, to show The Party themselves the control he holds over those they killed and abandoned.

And there is only one who will believe him outright.

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

Close ups)

The Innocent: those who died simply for being near The Party at the wrong time

The Ignorant: those who died fighting against The Party's efforts to stop the Upside Down

The Intellect: those who died fighting for The Party's survival

(Vecna's Generals Info Page)

[eraofstories]

rules: make a poll with five of your all time favorite characters and then tag five people to do the same. see which character is everyone's favorite!

tagging @starrygazingpie, @double-oy-7, @entelechies, @consultingjedi, @dedicatedfollower467

thanks for tagging me @glintglimmergleam, it's been ages since I actually did one of these...

[gwaedhannen]

Maedhros & Maglor Week day 6: Respite

WIP of something for @maedhrosmaglorweek that became too long to finish in one day. fem!Maglor/Elwing, Maedhros/Eärendil, background Elwing/Eärendil. Most of this is from the Maglor/Elwing section as that's what I have written so far.

Maglor waits upon the waves for her fall. The houseboat is a compromise, and a convenient method of rules-lawyering. It is not quite in Edhellond, whose lord has little patience for kinslayers but whose lady has a softness for her only remaining cousin on these shores, and not quite on the Outer Lands themselves, where the Doomed may not walk again. But Elwing has never been keen on following the rules of the world before; rules which say she should have died in the cold with her brothers, should have handed her father’s (her father’s) jewel to its rightful owners, should have died on the end of Maglor or her brothers’ blades, should have died in the surf, should have died on strange seas, should have died a mortal in the immortal land. And Maglor may have been a follower all her life, but the world no longer watches her deeds, no longer judges and pities. She may do as she will. Maglor watches the descent from on high, the Evening Star fissioning and a fragment tumbling down to Arda-that-is, resolving from firmamental myth into bone and feather and weight in her arms. Little else can survive the transition, but every time she bears a single strand of red-brown hair, safe in her beak. A promise, a reminder. Payment for catching her. Maglor takes the hair, presses it to her lips, weaves it into the braid with its companions. Elwing slides to the deck, bird into woman, the shift woven from her own dark hair materializing over pale skin. White stars are patterned upon, and a white tree embroidered over the breast. They make their exchanges. Elwing dances as her heart wills while the wind which boosts her leaps threatens to carry her away, and Maglor’s tempo keeps her grounded. Maglor sings laments for the long-shambling corpse of Númenor, and Elwing’s tears wash her scarred palms clean. Elwing offers news from the sky, of strange new continents beyond strange new seas, of mountains high and forests deep, of faces lifted skyward in hope. Maglor offers news from the land, of a distant valley and the young twins who fill it with song, of kingdoms finding their places in a quieter world, of those who still remember Menegroth and its many lanterns. She does not speak of Valinor. She does not speak of childhoods.

Eärendil’s giddy mirth is impressively contagious, and Maedhros almost without realizing it is cackling in laughter alongside him as Vingilótë climbs out of its dive, careening upwards back into the Heavens where the stars gleam with laughter of their own. The Mariner drags him down for a fierce kiss (how in the name of Ulmo’s sopping tits did a descendent of Turgon and Galdor Orchal end up so damned short?), and by the Flame Imperishable, Maedhros has never felt so alive.