#fanfiction sort of

[maxrowave]

Snippets of KYD pretentious writing stuff that’s kind of pretentious and composed of 99% bullshit jargon...

sometimes late at night, i want to write and pretend im super deep and meaningful, what better way to use kill your darlings (film) as an outlet? All of these r from Lucien’s perspective because it means i get to use my fancy words, but at the same i cant hold a candle to his thoughts so if it gets weird, just hang on mate :P im probably using ; wrong lmao and a lot of grammatical errors i repeat stuff a lot too there is no order to this, its all just random bits of writing put together (1) Their complicated relationship taunted Lucien from a distance, because he was ever-present in the notion that Allen was intrigued in him in the wrong way. It was inappropriate for what the two of them were, maybe in different circumstances, in a different life, maybe he would've. If he weren't so spontaneous and abhorred even the slightest hint of being forced to be chained down by something so, permanent and that it didn't resemble a certain someone; then maybe, just maybe, he could love himself enough and return the same favour. While Lucien was always one for venturing long past the societal subject to normalcy, this was the exception that haunted him. A heavy drum in his heart that weighted him down, the notion that he could ever be seen in a light that glorified him into some sort of benevolent heaven sent was dreadful. It confused him, how Allen could somehow wade through his labyrinth of bullshit layered upon alter ego after another. He still sought out the beauty in this sewage, it was a skill Lucien himself lacked, and envied. Allen Ginsberg was in love with him, a queer. He'd used Allen's dangerous comfort by him against the other on occasions, primarily as pivoting points to tease him when the opportunity arose. However, he was unsure if Allen was aware, that he was too. He had already surpassed the thin line they often teetered on, and now Lucien could only kick himself for not seeing the signs earlier, preventing this whole dysfunctional relationship. This was not a fickle love story, this was a parasitic weed choking the plants beneath it to survive. He could only pretend as if he were completely unacknowledged about the state of their bloody and bruised romantics for so long. "Queer." He begun, the first word in what felt like decades of silence, a blessing to cut through the uncomfortable tension developing; and not particularly in the way he lived off of. "Aren't you? "Lucien's eyes never diverged off of the passing ocean in front of them, the breeze had crept down his spine but the bottling ball of nervousness was keeping him far more occupied than the chill of the wind ever could. He didn't know why that was the first word he uttered, why he would confront the elephant in the room that they both had to be so aware of and never mentioned. They could've lived in that silent acknowledgement for the rest of their days, Allen was a homosexual and did little to hide his attraction to Lucien. He would've had to be an idiot to not figure that out. Those three words was all he would allow himself to say for tonight, refusing to elaborate on how much he knew. Like how it was deliberately obvious that Allen was pining and Lucien didn't know how to go on about it without resorting to drastic measures. It was one thing to sneak off away with him one night past curfew to drink a little, it was another to so easily toss away his lively hood and any chance of success for someone like him. How could Allen ever love someone like him and consciously feel good about it too? He felt guilty, that was new and he quickly found a distaste to the new emotion. Lucien wished Allen could hate him in the way he did to David, maybe then he would leave, allow Lucien to rot and fester in the manifestations of his poor decisions. Hate him while he still could, before he sank too deep and got choked by the weeds, perhaps Allen would be able to return back to Columbia, write little poems that would conform to the rules of rhyme and meter. How was Allen simultaneously the most brilliant man he'd ever met and yet so reckless. How could he ever find the heart in himself to love Lucien Carr? Lucien's head hung low, miserable, but now with the absence of sobriety, his eyes swelled up, god he fucking regretted a lot and had dragged someone like Allen; wonderful Allen Ginsberg who had so much potential, into the dirt and stomped on his legs so he could never run again. "I'm sorry." (2) Lucien unable to place a label on what he and Allen were, lingered not too far from Jack; his mind half stuck on the leftover scraps of their previous moment where they'd just held each other. The more he kept Allen around, the more the line that was their friendship began to blur. He made friends spontaneously, he wasn't a long-term man, dropping people as he went along with the motions of life. Even better yet, if they resigned from the friendship first, beating Lucien to the inevitable separation he would've done anyways. Faces he'd met along the years began to blur a long time ago, the only ever prominent one being David. But pray as he might, no matter how much he drank or befriended, dropped, he could still see him as clear as day when he closed his eyes. At least that was how it was before meeting Allen, now he could see beyond the distance, past the mosaic blur. Perhaps it was the fresh abandonment, the lacking of support that had caused him to act so sporadically. Because he wanted to follow Allen to the edge of the Earth too, blindly; he wanted to trust again. The cold persevered, Lucien glanced at Allen manoeuvring through the crowd to the best of his abilities. Jack stood out, practically towered, he was like a light-house of sorts and that notion made him grin, just a little. As far as the eye could see, the ocean kissed the star-filled sky, without the lights around, it was easier to see the constellations. He was never an astronomy man, but he still found appreciation, perhaps more metaphysically. Lucien turned to look at Allen, just managing to make him through the dark and the dimly lit lanterns scattered across the boat. He didn't utter a word, just staring at the other. It was supposed to be a glance of reassurance, or at least a cry for one without the messy combination of loosely fitted words. It had yet to occur to him why Allen had kept around him so long with an undeterred devotion. It ached him, that Allen yearned for him so similarly. (3) "Christ Allen, you're not gonna make me say it are you? "There was that half-hearted attempted to make his voice appear as if it weren't cracking at the seams with all the loose threads coming undone. He inhaled a deep breath, shuddering as it exhaled past his lips and for Allen to hear just how low Lucien had finally descended, now he knew who he truly was; An imposter of an angel, feeding off of the whims of life for as long as his legs could still move and his mind could still rummage through the slums. "You shouldn't be here, or at least besides me. "It came out quieter than he'd preferred, he knew he sounded antagonistic with the way he was wording his sentences. But if it meant that this was the very last gift he could provide Allen, past the whirlwind of late night escapades and hungover mornings, through the poem recitations, he would do it. Allen would be safer else where, perhaps happier too, and it ached him to admit that he was finding himself developing an attachment of sorts. This would end badly, both of them knew it and yet they continued to light the flame on all their matches, waiting for it to burn their finger tips. He sniffed, still quite unsure how he was supposed to go on about with Allen's infatuation with him. To fall in love with Lucien Carr was a sin of its own, the many people that had came before Ginsberg had met unfortunate fates as a by product of hanging around him. Once they'd tasted the freedom he was able to provide at the sacrifice of all stability, the moment he diverged from them, they were no longer able to function on their own; always striving to try achieve that same feeling. Like David trying to revive their long overdue relationship that had ended the moment he'd left the state, resorting to desperate measures to glue onto him like a parasite. (4) Lucien was stuck, he had clung deep to the old habits of his past self, refusing to change in favour for an fruitless ambition that if he persevered for long enough, he may just be rewarded. His present self, the one enduring the brunt of it all and ever so aware of how Allen's fingers snuck around his back and pressed into him, thawing the chill that was beginning to bite at his skin. He knew he himself was aching for the fresh abandonment, a clean white slate after he'd so recklessly treated the last one. Without hesitation, he brought his own hand back up trying to desperately hide from the swimming memories still haunting him. How Allen tolerated him was a feat of its own. He wonders what Allen thinks of him too, after his grandiose displays of artificial knowledge that border on the line of pretentiousness to the common eye and could only be understood by someone who had bared in the same footsteps he'd followed to a path of misery. Because he'd be lying if he said that he wasn't actively aware of what he did had its share of consequences, he'd taught himself to strand all glimpses of attachment just so he could continue preserving his unhealthy habits. His conviviality is lost and he hopes Allen will still continue to stick around despite that, once realising his personality is made up of loosely threaded bits of false truths constantly spewing out of his lips. (5) Allen is a patient soul that has spent too much time for him, and it gets his deserted hopes, the ones he'd purposely buried under thick layers of impulsivity and the clumsy gambling of his life, running. He's shaky in his arms, the material of his coat is cheap and itchy against his cheek, the obvious signs of coming from a lower middle class, and he yet he still continues to caress himself into the embrace despite that. Ironically as a self proclaimed writer, he has yet to develop the skills to properly come up with the words to communicate his exact thoughts without masking it in some vague metaphor. He hopes Allen's brilliant mind can crack this puzzle, and understand Lucien's appreciation in more ways than one. His companion is generally standard in terms of physical aesthetics, he could see how some girls may lean into him, being more the type to bring back home to your parents. Lucien recognises Allen's partial-innocence is attractive to others, it was what drew him in the first place, a victim to Ginsberg's charms it seems; an untainted soul yet infected by the old verses of a generation blinded by their false intellectual merits. (Technically, he's dressed in the same traits as the generation he so abhorred, but the difference between him and them were that they were old bigoted fucks rooted in their own cages of confliction that only they may be right).  Their library heist had only continued to backed up his claim with the librarian being ever so inclined because of his inexperience. But Allen has now been grounded with a dozen experiences under his belt, and Lucien enjoys that his participation has now become a big contribution for the other's new mindset, for the better or worse. No longer an unbloomed stalwart, he loves how Allen thinks, how it almost mimics his and yet deviates in the best possible ways, enough to keep him on his toes, still enough space left to argue for a point. (6) Lucien parted his mouth, getting ready to spill the poetic injustices that he just so abhorred, that would eventually pivot into a vessel of knowledge in his own self-righteousness and inserting his own opinions into them regardless if they're relevant. A rhythmic knocking instead places itself where Lucien's voice should've been, it echoes from behind them and it sends chills down his spine. There's a beat of silence that remains between him and Allen, eyeing the door in hopes it was potentially the hall monitor or some lost freshman trying to find their way. "Lucien, please, I know you're in there.” It's David, pitiful and no longer sounding like the same man he did just a few weeks ago; when he was imbibing on the cups of egotism because he held all the strings to Lucien's feeble fate, regardless of where the gazelle escaped, the lion would follow until the prey felt weary. It was in his weakest moments would David present himself as a last resort, like some Guardian Angel. Lucien bats an eye at Allen, freezing up and looking for the next best thing to do. He's about half-way through packing and if he rushes to grab the remnants of his soul scattered around his dingy dormitory, then he might have a chance of escaping the circle. "I know I messed up, I'm really really sorry. Let me in, and we can talk about it, we can be just like we used to.” It's a leverage David uses often because he understands that's all that Lucien yearns, is for someone to rely on. David expects him to be sympathetic, attempting to twist the narrative of their bitter past into some lost-love story meant to fate in a happy ending. There's still a part of Lucien clinging onto what they used to have, this is what the result of their relationship was; still expecting sugar when given salt.

[anonymous-person-in-hellhole]

I'm posting a picture that I hate...

everything was good until I started coloring it... there's a few ideas that I like and will keep in the redraw, but overall, I hate this picture and I feel like I could do way better than I did here. The only one I'm willing to keep the same but slightly different is Roxy, otherwise, I'm changing a lot of their designs, especially the colors.

I'm posting it here though, because I want to keep this as some sort of time capsule from the first time I whipped up a color palette and see my progression after the remake.

I also posted it up here because I have imposter syndrome, and I want that to change by showing how much I evolve when making art.

TL;DR, I just wanted to show everyone bad art of mine :)

[wantonlywindswept]

another trope inversion of GAR/Guard interactions:

the GAR is entirely aware that Coruscant is a shit posting.

they're not blind; they can see all the anti-clone sentiment when they're on leave. even when they're deployed, it's not like they're cut off from all news - they know how many times bills for clone rights have gone to the Senate floor and been ruthlessly voted down. they can see how even their Jedi are restrained by the Senate dragging its feet and making bad choices and handling the war like it's a game of dejarik since it will never affect them personally.

very few politicians have the respect of the clones.

but the Guard still have to work with the spoiled, self-centered bastards, and the GAR knows that they're not being treated well. but what can they do? they have no rights, the Jedi are as trapped under the Senate's thumb as they are, and it's not like they can get regular citizens to do anything.

so they offer their support as much as they can. any Guard, any Corrie who needs help, all they have to do is find one of their brothers and it will be offered without any questions.

you'd think that crime rate would go up when battle-traumatized soldiers are given leave on a city-planet like Coruscant, but it actually goes down.

way down.

the thing criminals come to realize is that if you are being chased by one of the Guard, if ANY other clone catches sight of you, it is ON SIGHT. clones in casual clothes carrying food and drinks have dropped everything to immediately join a Guard's hunt, throwing themselves into the pursuit with glee and an energy that the usually-exhausted Guards often lack. (some of them howl. those, the criminal underground agrees, are the worst.) 

and with hundreds or thousands of clones wandering around during battalions' leave, it's possible to run into one of them anywhere. and they usually travel in packs.

best just to lay low for a while.

when it leaks that the Guard regularly run low on supplies, all sorts of things start to go missing on the venators. just a box or a crate here or there, ration packs or bacta patches or cold-weather gear. there are millions of clones and thousands of ships; it's not like every little thing can be tracked by the quartermasters. 

(rex realizes that, for whatever reason, his battalion is always prioritized for resupply, and rarely any questions are asked about their requisitions. rex takes immediate and shameless advantage of this. rex manages, somehow, to lose two entire bacta tanks, along with the bacta to fill them.)

and ofc the idea that started this whole ramble - when a shiny Corrie stumbles somewhere where some of the 501st are shooting the shit, causing everything to immediately come to a halt. the kid is clutching his helmet and one of his pauldrons to his chest; his hair is mussed up and there are tears on his cheeks and bruises on his face and unadulterated panic in his eyes. 

there's an angry call in the corridor.

the shiny flinches.

fives grabs him, hears him squeak, snaps out orders. echo yanks off his bucket and his upper armor; jesse lunges for a blanket. they hustle the kid into a chair, drape the blanket over his lower body, hastily swap his upper armor and helmet for echo's. fives shoves the armor somewhere, doesn't matter, it's out of sight with the telltale red, and they all barely have enough time to drop themselves back into the chairs arranged around the table and pick up their cards before some natborn stomps into the room.

anything we can do for you, sir? sorry, no, the Guard didn't stop in here. we saw him head back down toward the rotunda, though. yes, sir. have a nice day, sir.

they close and lock the door. fives goes back to the shiny. fives was instantly prepared to help a fellow clone in need.

fives was not prepared for tears.

the kid gets snot all over the inside of echo's helmet. they take him back to Guard HQ. fox is painfully, desperately relieved to see him. fox looks too-thin and too-tired but there is a fresh GAR-issued bacta patch covering a slash across the side of his cheek. he thanks them for saving the shiny, like that's something that ever needs gratitude, but is swept away before any of them can say that. 

fives doesn't think that misplaced bacta and pilfered rations are enough support for the Guard anymore.

thankfully, rex and the rest of the GAR agree.

[honnelander]

go fish!

so i fell in love with Sanji just like everyone else. i've never seen the one piece anime or read the manga so i'm solely going off of the live action. i had fun writing this and plan to make this a series of some sorts where it's a fem!reader x Sanji moments of awkwardness, fluff, and mutual pining because i love reading that stuff myself. if anyone has any suggestions or requests for this series please leave a comment or send me an ask!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 1.3k

pairing: opla!sanji x reader

summary: reader and Usopp are playing a card game when Sanji finds them. teasing ensues.

prequel part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist

“Care for a refreshment, Madam?” a smooth, deep familiar voice asked to your left, breaking your concentration on the card game in front of you. 

“Hm?” you looked up from the cards in your hand and saw the Going Merry’s own chef looking down at you with a crooked, charming smile as he held a chilled glass bottle of water in his hand. “Oh, hey Sanji,” you greeted quickly with your usual smile as you looked back down at your hand. “What’d you say? Go fish Usopp.” 

Your opponent across the barrel from you grumbled as he took the top card off the deck sitting between you both. 

“I was just asking if the lovely madam sitting here would like a nice, cold refreshment on this particularly hot day?” Sanji asked again with a hint of amusement, his crooked smile deepening as he watched you study your hand once again. 

“’Lovely madam’?” Usopp repeated sarcastically, his eyebrows pulling together. “What about offering her super buff, brave, and heroic opponent an ice-cold beverage instead?” 

“Nope,” Sanji corrected, popping the 'p'. “Ladies first Usopp. Always.” 

Even after knowing Sanji for a couple of months now, his consistent chivalry always managed to make your heart flutter.  

You laughed lightly and couldn’t help but smirk as you said with a matter-of-fact, teasing tone, “Just say you wish you were a girl, Usopp. No judgment here.” You paused for a moment before asking, “You got the five of spades?” 

“Now even though I would make an extremely attractive, gorgeous woman, I am a man through and through.” A grin broke out on Usopp’s face as he glanced at his hand and triumphantly called out, “Go fish, y/n.” 

“Fair enough,” you hummed as you reached for a card. “And yes Sanji, I would love a glass of cold water. Thank you.” You shot a quick look of gratitude the chef’s way as you took a card from the deck. 

Sanji placed the two glasses onto your makeshift barrell-table top he was holding in his left hand and started filling up the glasses with water. “Of course. Anything for the missus.” 

Missus. Ugh. It made your heart skip a beat to hear him call you that. But you knew he didn’t really mean anything by it. It was just how Sanji spoke, forever the gentleman. 

“Oof. If you keep sweet talking like that Sanji, you’re going to even make me blush, just like y/n,” Usopp joked. 

Your eyes widened as your eyes snapped to look at your dumbass crewmate and friend sitting across from you. “I- I am not blushing Usopp!” God, if you both were using a real table instead of a barrel right now you would’ve broken his shine with your foot. You really weren’t blushing before but Usopp’s stupid comment definitely made your cheeks heat up now. “It’s the heat,” you hissed.  

“’Heat’,” he mocked with air quotes and snorted. “Right.” 

“I-” before you could defend yourself, Sanji spoke up. 

“Actually,” the blonde chef chimed in with a light laugh as he filled the second glass, “that’s why I came over in the first place. You were looking a little flushed y/n, so I thought you guys could use a cold drink.” 

Sanji’s words caused both you and Usopp to look up from your cards simultaneously, making eye contact with each other. A mischievous grin started to form on Usopp’s face as he saw the blush deepen on your face. You quickly looked back to your hand, suddenly finding the eight of clovers card extremely interesting.  

Sanji saw you looking flushed? He saw you? From across the deck? From inside the kitchen’s window? He was watching you play cards? The thought of Sanji watching you when you didn’t expect him to made your stomach erupt in butterflies, and it certainly didn’t make your stupid little crush on him go away. Just the opposite. In fact, it just fueled your delusional fantasy even more.  

And it certainly didn’t help that the only person who knew about your crush on the head chef just so happened to have a big mouth and loved to tease you about it any chance he got. And that he was sitting right across from you right now, watching all of this unfold right in front of him. 

“Oh? So you were watching y/n and I play cards out here?” Usopp innocently asked his blonde crewmate, but you knew better. There wasn’t an ounce of true curiosity in his tone whatsoever. 

“Yeah, from the kitchen,” Sanji answered casually as he recapped the glass water bottle. 

“Usopp,” you warned. 

“And you said that she looked ‘flushed’?” Usopp asked, quirking a brow at the end of his question as he turned his gaze from you to Sanji. 

Sanji blinked in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together for a second before looking down at his crewmate. “Yeah...” he said slowly before continuing, “Her cheeks looked a little pink so I figured-” 

“Oh?” Usopp asked, his voice becoming louder. “You noticed the color of her cheeks, from that far away?” 

“Usopp,” you hissed louder but it fell on deaf ears. Once your friend got on a roll, there was little anyone could do about it. Especially when it came to teasing you about your feelings for Sanji. 

“Yeah,” Sanji replied to Usopp’s question with a confused smile. “What are you-” 

“GO FISH!” you blurted out loudly, cutting Sanji off and having both men turn their eyes towards you.  

“Huh?” Usopp blinked his eyes at you, suddenly remembering the game in front of him. “But I didn’t even ask you anything y/n. And you just drew a card, so it’s your turn to ask me.” 

You let out a quiet sigh of relief at the fact that Usopp stopped grilling Sanji with all of those embarrassing questions right in front of you....even though you couldn’t help but perk up at the fact that Sanji in fact had been watching you from the kitchen, and that he was sweet enough to bring you (and Usopp) some water.  

“Well, I tried,” you shrugged and lied, “but you just kept yapping so you didn’t hear me. Do you have the Queen of hearts?” 

Usopp studied you for a brief moment before looking at his cards, smirking to himself. “You know y/n, it’s funny you asked about the Queen of hearts,” he said as he plucked the requested card from his hand and reached out to give it to you, “since you make heart eyes yourself whenever you look at-” 

“GOOD game Usopp!” you practically yelled as you threw your cards down onto the barrel and stood up, hoping your outburst drowned out the name Usopp was about to so stupidly blurt out. You shook his free hand with both of yours as you said, “You totally win my friend.” 

“What?” Sanji laughed slightly as he watched you and Usopp shake hands. The poor guy was as confused as ever. “But the game isn’t over.” 

You looked Usopp dead in the eye as tightened your grip on his hand. “Oh no, it’s over. He definitely won.”  

Yeah, he won alright. He won the game of making your life a living hell and embarrassing you in front of Sanji. He won the gold medal in that game. 

“I sure did,” Usopp agreed triumphantly, putting his cards down. 

You dropped his hand and took the glass of cold water that Sanji had so generously poured, the cold glass making you feel better already. “Thank you for this Sanji. I think I’ll go enjoy this on my hammock inside.” 

You couldn’t bear to look at Sanji, feeling humiliated for no reason with your face on fire, you stepped away from the barrel sipping your water as you made your way across the deck towards the ship’s living quarters.  

“Yeah, that’s a good idea y/n!” Usopp called, giddy from the high that could only come from successfully teasing a friend. “Maybe that’ll help calm down your flushed face!” 

Before stepping inside, you flipped off a laughing Usopp, completely missing the brief look of disappointment in Sanji’s eyes as he watched you go. 

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown Part 6

Masterpost

Danny, after many promises and assurances, lets Red Robin take him to the batcave. They travel by car, and as fancy as it was, Danny was almost scared to touch anything inside it. Red was a much better driver than his father though, so he just closed his eyes and focused on trying to keep his healing up.

The Batcave turned out to be an actual cave, underground, with actual bats in it. He was whisked to a medical area too quickly to see much of anything else besides some other vehicles and a giant computer set up. 

Someone was waiting in the medical space with a tray of tools and bandages ready next to the bed, Red introduced him as Agent A. They were quick to lie him down on a cot and set him up to a heart monitor and that had Red and the A frowning immediately.

“It’s a medical condition.” Danny blurted, and both pairs of eyes shot to him. “My heartrate is naturally very slow, temperature runs cold, pale skin, slow circulation so I can't have a lot of different medications." Not that any medications would really work, but better safe than sorry. Them not working would be suspicious, and Danny does not have the energy or focus for trying to keep straight any real explanations right now.  "It’s fine, I promise.”

Agent A nodded slowly. “Is there anything else we should know before we start treatment?”

“Just can't give me any medicines, I think that's the only relevant bit.”

“Alright, I will keep that in mind. Please lift your shirt so I can see the wound.”

Danny does, and they manage their expressions quite well on seeing it. Agent A goes immediately for creams and bandages.

“What burned you like that?” Red asked.

“Gun.” Danny was starting to slur. He did not want to sleep right now, with these people here.

“A gun? What kind of gun causes burns?”

“New blaster, parents made it special.”

“Your parents make guns?”

Danny shrugs, turning his head to look at Red instead of the far off ceiling of the cave. “My parents make lots of things. They're scientists, inventors." Danny waves his arm around vaguely. "The gun was new though, hadn’t been shot with that one before. The earlier versions were much less powerful.”

“Are you saying that your parents are the ones that shot you?” Red asked gently, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. “It wasn’t just their gun that was used?”

Danny frowns. “Well yeah.”

Tim is very concerned at the tone he just used, like getting shot at by your parents was normal. “Do they shoot at you a lot?”

“Fair amount I suppose.” Red could see Danny thinking really hard about something. Dany’s head was really starting to hurt. His brain was fuzzy and he knew he should be concerned about something, but couldn’t figure out what. His parents shooting at him was nothing new, considering. “Like, they did it more than Vlad but I don’t see him as often, and they’ve done it longer than the GIW, but since the GIW has started they’ve been about equal I guess. I mean, sometimes all the defense systems in the house target me but that wasn’t technically intentional. Took forever for us to figure out how to get them to stop that.”

“Danny, when was the last time you slept?” Red asked gently.

Danny wasn’t sure if his blip earlier this morning counted. He didn’t think it lasted more than an hour, but the last time he slept before that was before his fight in Amity, escaping through the ghost zone and running around in this dimension.

“It’s been awhile.” Danny landed on. True enough for medical history he supposed.

“Right.” A finished the last of the bandages and tugged Danny’s shirt back down. “Well, why don’t you do that now, while we go and find you something to eat.”

“I’m too tired to fight food right now.”

Tim shared a look with Alfred before turning back to Danny. “Okay then. Maybe sleep first and then eat?”

“I will go start making something now that you’re all set up here Mister Danny.” Agent A states, walking past the medical curtains and shutting them behind him. Red pulled out a tablet and started tapping on it. He noticed Danny’s eyes on him after a moment.

“You going to sleep?”

“Strange place, strange people. Not sure that’s the best decision here.”

Red looked up from his tablet.

“You trusted me enough to come here. Trust me enough to sleep. I will make sure no one but me or A comes in before you’re ready.”

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny couldn't really explain why he always answered this specific summoning ritual. It was like a feeling. One of warmth. Of a mug of hot cocoa in your hands and a nice weighted blanket dropped around your shoulders as a fire blazed in the hearth in front of you, keeping the chill in the rest of the room at bay.

Danny always lost himself in the sensation and found himself back in that stupid circle of protection with that same wierd guy demanding answers. But Danny didn't know anything about a "Lazarus Pit" or a "Pit Madness" let alone a cure for it. Even if he did he wasn't going to tell Red Robin anything after all the times he'd used the marriage summoning spell to get him here.

Earlier on Red had explained it was the only spell known to thier universe that could summon an entity from "The Lazarus Dimension" Which he guessed was another name for the ghost zone and Phantom was the only one to ever be summoned.

Danny couldn't help but wonder why...

After escaping Bird boy and his supernatural pop quiz (oh look, another test for him to flunk) he returns home only to discover his parents had seen him get summoned and accused him of being a ghost that replaced thier baby boy.

Naturalally the next time Red Robin had summoned Phantom he was angry. He was tired and dirty from being on the run from his parents, his worlds US government, and Vlad. Not to mention his own rogues gallery didn't exactly cut him any slack.

So Danny decided that if Red Robin wanted to abuse the power of a marriage ritual than the very least he can do is put his money where his mouth is.

Danny grinned and exited the magic circle, taking delight in Reds widening eyes before he lunged. A kiss sealed the deal, making sure Danny had a safeish place to stay.

After all, married couples in the infinite realms were obligated and even compelled to protect and care for eachother.

[all-too-unwell-13]

i'm going to war (looking through the rosekiller tag for an actual rosekiller fic)

[ohhgingersnaps]

remember! if you don't like something about the way a fanfiction is written, you can simply do the following:

leave!

skedaddle! depart! abscond!

the back button is right there at the top of the page.

further up. further. a little to the left...

that's it! you've got it!

go, my friend. be free. may you be blessed with a work that is better suited to your specific needs and desires in this particular season of your life

[aroaceleovaldez]

just read the plot summary for Wrath of the Triple Goddess and. wow this is. painful this just sounds painful to read.

Why is Grover the incompetent inciting incident character? That is not his narrative role ever, really. That's like, the fanon conceptualization of his character where he's reduced down to comedic relief and nothing more. He's mostly exposition and support. Why not have the inciting incident be something about Annabeth's hubris - something that has gotten the gang into situations tons of times before in a way that doesn't put down any of the characters? Heck you could have even tied it into some Sea of Monsters stuff, like Circe having told Annabeth that she'd make a good sorceress. That'd be perfect for how this book literally just exists to be advertising for s2 of PJOTV. Or maybe call-back to Percy's introduction, where he talks about how he doesn't try to cause problems but problems tend to find him. Or use the established personalities of Hecate's animal companions from HoO, since we know they have attitudes. Just what are you even doing here????

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

[self-aware-sawtrap]

saw ii (2005)//abraham & isaac before the sacrifice (jan victors, 1642)

:(

[gallusrostromegalus]

Ta-Ashi Neko (Many-Legged Cat)

A fun little Yokai to live in AEIWAM's Spirit World. Warnings for: Long Post, Animal Death Mention, non-graphic discussion of Carnivory

---

Ta-Ashi Neko (多足猫) or Many legged Cat

The Ta-Ashi Neko is a Monstrous Cat that grows to enormous size and intelligence, and has multiple pairs of legs. It's more elongated and stoutly built than a domestic house-cat, with a thick and plush coat. While extremely rare, the Ta-Ashi that have been observed come in a variety of coat colors that also occur in Domestic Cats.

No one is quite sure what causes a Ta-Ashi to form but rather than the product of Ta-Ashi Neko mating, new Ta-Ashi are born in domestic cat litters. When born, the Ta-Ashi resembles an ordinary kitten save that it has no legs at all, and sort of wiggles around for the first 11 years of it's life, during which it will feed itself by suckling from any animal EXCEPT cats.

On it's 11th birthday, it suddenly sprouts a pair of legs- Like human handedness, 90% of Ta-Ashi sprout their forelegs first, and 10% their hind legs. It can now crawl around more effectively (or in the case of the hind-leg ones, walk about), and continues to do so for 22 years, when it sprouts it's second pair of legs, and goes about looking like a normal, if unusually large and somewhat elongated house-cat.

33 years after that, it's third pair of legs sprout in the middle. 44 years after that, the 4th pair, 55 years after that the 5th pair, and so on. As it develops more legs, it also grows: a 3-pair Ta-Ashi is about the size of a large dog or Lynx, a 4-pair the size of a Lion or other Big Cat, a 5-pair the size of a Horse, and a 6-leg the size of a small bus. Foreleg Ta-Ashi will sprout their 4th pair between their fore and middle legs, then their fifth between the middle and hind legs, alternating thusly. Hindleg Ta-Ashi alternate as well, but start on the middle and hindleg gap.

If a Ta-Ashi manages to live to be 1,001 years old, it will have 13 pairs of legs, and become a full Kami.

The Ta-Ashi is exceptionally intelligent from birth, and by the time they have 2 pairs of legs, they fully understand human speech, but usually don't talk before their third legs grow in. A Ta-Ashi with over 5 pairs of legs is at least 231 years old, and of superhuman intelligence, if peculiar feline priorities.

They are incredibly stealthy, and it's believed older ones learn to become silent and invisible at will, but the Ta-Ashi's greatest weapon is it's speed. Even a 3-pair Ta-Ashi can outpace a Shingami's Shunpo, and as it ages, it only gets faster and better endurance. Hayai Tatakai, a 6-pair Ta-Ashi that lives in the distant districts of the Rukongai, is said to be able to make a complete circuit around the outermost borders of the Rukongai in just under a month.

Ta-Ashi are exceptionally rare, due to both their apparently niche spawning criteria, and the fact that humans have a bad habit of 'mercy killing' what they think are 'deformed' kittens. Even if a Ta-Ashi makes it to Adulthood (The onset of it's third pair of legs), it still faces major challenges: Humans will hunt them out of fear, or for Trophy Animals, and it's diet is peculiarly limited:

The Ta-Ashi eats Other Cats and the Occasional Hunter.

It's a mystery* WHY Ta-Ashi only eat other cats and seemingly random game hunters, even to the Ta-Ashi themselves. Hayai described his desire for feline flesh and not hunger per se, but as an act of rage. The mere scent of another cat would send him into an irrationally furious fugue which would not be assuaged until he had hunted down, killed, and devoured his nemesis. In fact, he rarely felt hungry at all, at least not since he'd been weaned, but on the rare occasions he did, his craving was for milk and cheese, not catmeat.

This has caused some speculation that the Ta-Ashi is not a Cat-spirit at all, but a sort of ironic Vengeful Spirit against cats- not only does it's compulsion to devour include house-cats, but also big cats, bakaneko, two-tailed cats, catfolk, and in one particularly catastrophic incident, a member of the Shihoin clan.

(*The Secret is that Ta-Ashi ARE an Ironic Vengeful Spirit- When the Beast God of the Wilderkin cursed the Shihoin to live among the humans for killing for sadistic pleasure instead of having respect for their prey, the Beast God also created the Ta-Ashi specifically to antagonize them. The Shihoin clan took, and continues to take, immense pride in their strength and speed, so the Beast God created a Feline Yokai that would be faster and stronger than any Shihoin could ever hope to be, and that would spawn anywhere Cats or Humans were hunting without respect for their prey. Even if they don't originally spawn there, Ta-Ashi Neko are drawn to places with an overabundance of cats, or where trophy hunting takes place. This has lead to the peculiar phenomenon that Ta-Ashi are found in either the ass-end of nowhere where some idiot has introduce house-cats or taken a hunting party, or smack in the middle of cities where poor pet and livestock husbandry abounds.)

Despite their fearsome appearance and distressing diet, Ta-Ashi are surprisingly gentle and playful spirits. The vast majority of people living within the territory of a Ta-Ashi never notice and are untroubled by it's presence. Some like to rush by as a sudden gust of wind to tease unwary travelers, or play with laundry left out in an unattended line. When not being actively hunted, some have even proved to be gentle and protective of human children, going so far as to return lost children to the nearest village. They are notably fond of all canines, especially dogs.

Because Ta-Ashi are so stealthy and reclusive until they know they can trust the local humans, the strongest indicators that a Ta-Ashi is in the area are:

A sudden surge in the local population of songbirds, reptiles and frogs (the mice are no longer being hunted either, but the snake population also massively rebounded)

Sudden changes in weather including more intense storms and windy days (the Ta-Ashi traveling about At Speed)

Strange miasmas of absolutely rancid sour odors with no discernible source, especially on remote stretches of road (the Ta-Ashi Marking the borders of its territory)

Some exorcists have attempted to divine the presence of Ta-Ashi Neko by interrogating other local Yokai, especially Tanuki and Kitsune, who can be plied with Sake. However, this method isn't very reliable- given that Kitsune and Tanuki are both canine spirits that are often harassed by Bakaneko or Yokai Trophy Hunters, and often favorite friends of Ta-Ashi, they usually choose to keep the presence of their Good Friend Leggy Boi a secret.

If a Ta-Ashi appears in your area, the best thing to do is keep your cat indoors- Ta-Ashi are extremely reluctant to go inside of any kind of human construction, and it also limits how far the scent of your cat travels. Also, you should be keeping your cat indoors anyway have you SEEN the foxes around here? Not even the Kitsune, the regular ones!

---

Yushiro Shihoin used to love visiting his Uncles Jushiro and Kaname and going Birdlistening (on account of Kaname being blind and Jushiro being utterly hopeless with the binoculars, they rarely saw the birds, but did have a good time listening to their songs) out in the Greenbelt of old Noble House Land Holdings in the middle of the city.

He came to visit in the mid 1970's after several years away at school at Jushiro's word of improved bird populations, only to feel an awful, intense paranoia that he was being stalked by something. Concerned about assassins, the two captains quickly retreated with him from the wilder parts of the Ukitake clan holdings to the main compound. He hasn't been back since, and soon after even visiting Auntie Soi Fon's heavily forested 2nd Division training grounds gave him a similarly awful case of Heebie-Jeebies.

Unbeknownst to nearly everyone, Mayuri Kurotsuichi had commissioned the capture of a live Ta-Ashi Neko for analysis. In 1973, bounty hunters arrived in the city with a three-leg Ta-Ashi who went ballistic at being exposed to even the faintest hint of Shihoin Reiatsu, broke out of the cage she was being kept in, and has been lurking in the Greenbelt and 2nd Division training grounds since.

Since her return to Soul Society in 2001, Yoruichi thinks that she ought to bond with her Surprise Baby Brother, and that a good way to do that would be for the two of them to sneak into the Kuchiki Compound in the middle of the Greenbelt and camp there while pranking Byakuya until caught.

Kazetsumi, as she calls herself, is over 110 years old now. Her fourth pair of legs has grown in nicely and she has spent the last 27 years learning every. square. inch. of her territory.

>:3c

[insanitysilver]

AO3 Tastemaker Game

You? You're an individual. You're a reader and a forager with fine tastes. You're not afraid to wade into the deep end. Browse the dustiest aisles. Get in the vents. Come, pan for gold with me in the far reaches. The game goes like this:

On AO3, navigate to your pairing/fandom of choice

Apply your standard filters

In the 'Search Within Results' field, paste this: kudos<100 comments<5 bookmarks<5 hits<500 sort:>updated

Press the 'Sort & Filter' button

Read down the line until you find something you like

Comment, bookmark, and mark it as a recommendation

For the ultimate connoisseur: Bonus Points - share your new rec off-site Hard Mode - kudos<12 comments<1 bookmarks<1 hits<395 sort:>updated

[justaz]

morgana and arthur have a sleepover when they’re teenagers and morgana brings out this summoning spell and arthur is all “magic?!?!?! :o thats wrong we cant do that” and morgana just says “pussy.” and then arthur is helping her set everything up. they light the candles and chant in the old tongue and then BOOM a figure appears but it’s not the mighty god emrys the text talked of, it’s just a boy a couple of years younger than arthur, scared and confused, who answers to the name merlin rather than emrys. while they’re arguing, merlin goes stiff and is like “do you hear that?” and then trails out of morgana’s chambers in a trance and obviously morgana and arthur follow him and they end up way beneath the castle where theres a fucking dragon???? now emrys, the once and future king, and the witch are chillin w a dragon and talking about destiny. none of them are happy about this btw

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

If you really want a treat, scroll through the Wilbur Soot tag on AO3 and go to the most recent chapter updates. The authors have some insanely well articulated thoughts and points about this all, and it's crazy to watch them bring their work to a screeching stop to firmly leave Wilbur to burn and support Shubble. This has been some of the most unanimous support I've seen for any victim online, ever, and it's insane.

[js-dragonart]

Seeing Ghosts Part II - Betrayal

This was a doozy, honestly. Not only did i choose so many scenes I wanted to include, I also chose the ones that caused me the most emotional damage and spent A LOT of time drawing these. Which means I also spent a lot of time staring at reference pictures of Tom Glynn-Carney's Aegon almost crying and being absolutely miserable.

This is fine.

But I'm pretty happy with the end result, especially the last illustration.

Aemond being out there, putting the "slay" in kinslayer. Have you noticed his speech boxes have turned from white to black to symbolize his "fall to the dark side"? Yes, I know he's killed Lucerys before, but this story is explicitly about his relationship to Aegon.