#guess where it comes from

[aoife-arianrhod]

once, i had an empire in a golden cage

i have this habit of creating a story in my head but never writing. wanted to see the reaction to this story idea before drafting more.

Sometimes the person you are looking for is closer than you think

Azula goes on a redemption arc, finds her mother and hatches dragons, becoming the mother of dragons whilst also stopping a civil war. Not necessarily in that order. 

symbolism

white butterflies sightings represent purity, innocence, and spirituality. Seeing a white butterfly can signify a major shift or soul journey.

****

Azula wakes up to see the Kemurikage's are gone and the surroundings are empty; she is guided by a butterfly and finds the temple with a lonely Monk inside. She is taken in and the dream sequence starts to occur but before it can get really traumatic, she is saved by Noren who tells her to get up and leave this place. 

Delirious, Azula can barely move her limbs, she realises that the temple has done something to her. She is physically half dragged, half carried by a girl a few years older than her. They encounter the spiritual monster who attacks to stop them from leaving. 

Even in her state, Azula is still a threat and capable of lightning bending. With the help of the mysterious girl, they are able to walk only to find the temple gone. They meet a refugee camp, this is where Azula starts to change her periphery about war seeing the harm caused to citizens across the fire and earth nation diaspora. 

Goes to the library where she finds dragon eggs and takes it 

She meets Zukos’ rival who wants to continue the war, he recognises Azula - she says no and leaves, fights an agni kun and wins, she lets the Avatar know she is here by shooting to the sky a bolt of lightning followed by blue fire, they arrive but she is gone. She watches as he is arrested by the Gaang.

Azula also hatches a dragon egg and I want the scene below.

And in the first time in a hundred years, dragons were born 

[jennicatzies]

Average nightmare sequence

Reference under the cut

Drawing is a reference to this HAHAH

I struggled to spell Charbonneau for a good like 2 minutes btw on god

[succo-al-limone]

DC doodles for funzies

[bunnieswithknives]

I feel bad for neglecting Hazel so much, I do have many thoughts about her.. and also a mermaid au that im probably not going to do anything with

[muirmarie]

i think columbo and mccoy would get along so well. i think columbo would drive spock up the fucking wall. the way he pretends not to know something and tries to have the other person explain it? spock would loathe that lmao. i think kirk would both be amused by and wary of columbo. like he'd like him well enough and they'd get along well enough, but kirk would be extremely aware of how smart columbo is, and so he'd be cautious of him and his intentions.

after columbo solves the murder, he invites mccoy over to his place, and mccoy brings along a fantastic bottle of something or other, and gets to charm the elusive mrs. columbo, and pet dog behind his big basset hound ears, and has a lovely time.

they keep in contact, and mccoy brings him up casually sometimes just to watch spock bristle. he also likes to occasionally "just one more thing" kirk, just to watch him narrow his eyes with a little amusement and a little concern.

columbo consults with mccoy off the books occasionally for medical stuff. eventually tho there's a case that's a little more scientifically involved, and mccoy makes spock help, and it turns out when spock's on the other side of things he actually has a fascinating time. he follows columbo around like a puppy watching his techniques and asking him questions. it's extremely cute, although mccoy knows better than to say that.

kirk's always a little wary of columbo, but they still get along well enough.

(when kirk is framed for murder, columbo comes in and solves the case and finds the real murderer, and when mccoy has a little celebration afterwards, mrs. columbo teaches kirk to make the best apple pie ever made, and that does more to win him over than columbo saving the day.

columbo just smiles, and says mrs. columbo always has been his better half.)

(kirk just smiles back, and looks at mccoy and spock, and says he knows the feeling.)

[ferritins]

IN A STITCH, IN A PINCH | J. TODD

SUMMARY: you’ve developed something of a friendship with the Outlaws, but you’re not quite sure about what the irascible Red Hood thinks of you.

WARNINGS: graphic description of burn injury, oblique reference to canonical parental drug dependency, reader is a meta.

NOTES: bringing back an old work! Re: the burns treatment depicted here - my area of study was clinical microbiology, not emergency medicine; everything I know about burns is relegated to opportunistic Staphylococcus aureus infection and how Gram negative skin flora influence wound healing. Take none of what you see in this fic as medical advice; if you do have a severe burn, call 999 and get your arse to an A&E ASAP.

After an extraterrestrial incident in your city that ended with something to the tune of 5 and a half million dollars worth of property damage and you knitting Arsenal's torn-open back together in a moment of adrenaline-fuelled insanity, you've developed something of a friendship with the Outlaws.

What that really means is that you periodically come off your shift at the hospital to find 2 mercenaries and an alien princess divesting your fridge of it's contents, and get wheedled into using your meta abilities to heal wounds that would otherwise take them out of play for a good few months.

You're under no illusions. You're aware that a healer is a useful contact to have, that should the situation necessitate it they'll take the few scant inches you can give and run a mile with them.

However, you're also aware that being a meta is a risk and that it pays to be liked and valued by dangerous people.

It's a friendship of convenience, but a friendship nonetheless.

Kori picks you up bodily and spins you in a tight circle until you're giggly and dizzy when confess her favourite shirts of yours are always freshly washed, just in case.

Roy gives you a vulgar wink when you order his shirt off to take a look at where his back scarred over, but faithfully applies the Vitamin E cream you give him for the scarring, trusting you to ease his discomfort, and sneaks bottles of your favourite elderflower cordial and the tins of Zambuk you can never find in the US for you to find when he leaves.

The only one you can't quite puzzle out your relationship with is Jason. He's taciturn, stands watch faithfully as Roy and Kori pull you into friendly hugs and dizzy spins, pepper playful kisses on your cheek and rub their knuckles into your hair. He rolls his eyes at his teammates' antics, huffs through his nose at your fussing.

Sometimes though, he'll call you sweetheart in a low rasp as he bumps you away from the sink to take over doing the dishes.

Sometimes, you think you catch him watching you with something unnameable and warm in his eyes.

You're not expecting your front door to fly open and damn near off the hinges late on Saturday evening — just as you're fresh out of the shower and only just into your pyjama shirt & shorts, might you add — but your alarm and annoyance die on your tongue when you see Roy and Kori's grim faces and the way that Jason sways despite both of their considerable strength holding him up.

You smell the odd, sour-smoke char of burned flesh as they pass you to ease Jason down oh so gently onto your sofa, and your gut goes cold with fear. The burn, once you get his shirt cut open, is not as extensive as you'd feared, but it's still something from a horror scene.

It's a third degree burn, skin mulberry-red, weeping and blistered in a long arc that curls up from his right hip to just under his right pectoral.

"Bloody hell." You breathe, horrified.

You run to your room, digging out your first aid kit, and drop to your knees by the couch as you tear it open.

Roy snorts, bitter as cyanide. "Yeah, that's a fairly accurate summary of the situation, sweets. The only reason he's still alive is because he dodged and got a glancing blow from the energy beam instead of a direct hit."

You look up from Jason's side.

"I'll need you and Kori to get some things." You say, hands shaking at the prospect of the task in front of you. "I can reduce the severity of the burn to a first degree, maybe, but it–"

"What do you need?" Kori snaps, terse. You reel off a list - topical antiseptic, light bandages, a banana bag & an IV kit, amoxicillin - and then look to Roy.

"I need you to get him to take some co-codamol. It'll kick in in about 10 minutes given his enhanced metabolism, but I can't do anything until he's got painkillers in him."

Roy's brows tighten further.

"Jason doesn't do opiates."

"Roy, if this was anybody else he'd be hooked up to IV morphine! If I start working on him without him having painkillers, he'll go into shock which could kill him." You exclaim.

You make low, soothing sounds when Jason tenses at the shouting, only to groan at the fresh wave of agony in his side.

The sound of Jason's pain seems to be decisive enough for Roy, who moves round the couch and grabs the box of effervescent tablets, dissolving two in water and coaxing Jason into drinking it down.

When the glass is empty, Roy is back to his feet, quick as lightning. He strides to the door, shepherding Kori out of your apartment.

"We'll be back with everything you need in half an hour, tops. Please, help him."

Jason comes out of the shrieking adrenaline of agony to the sound of your voice, and a slight cotton fuzz in his head.

Narcotics, then, but a fairly low dose for him to still retain this degree of alertness. Feeling the encroaching spectre of that terrible pain just barely held at bay, finds he's grateful for the medication.

He goes to prop himself up on his elbows, only to strike a line of phosphorus-white flare of pain down his side that has him hissing breath through gritted teeth.

Above him, you make a startled sound, press a hand to his sternum to keep him down. His eyes catch yours, and he sees the relieved sag of your spine and shoulders at the alertness in his eyes.

"Thank fuck you didn't go into shock." You sigh. "Stay still, I've just about got this down to a second degree burn. I've just got your hip."

You snap off your nitrile gloves and lean forward, cupping his face in your hands. "Don't make a habit of this. You'll kill us off with stress if you keep on nearly-dying."

As if on cue, the front door opens and Roy and Kori come into the living room, pharmacy bags clutched tightly in their grips and fragile hope in their eyes.

When they see Jason's alert eyes, the slow knit of skin and sub-dermal tissue and hear his sheepish grumbling in, response to you, their smiles are like sunlight.

Healing the burn is slow going, taking a full five evenings after your shifts.

Roy and Kori are intent on Jason staying the full course of treatment — settled by a, literally, on account of Kori, flaming row when he asks for his helmet and body armour —and though your entreaties are quieter, they're no less insistent.

It serves him right, probably, but it's driving him to distraction.

Specifically, the feeling of your hands over his skin is driving him to distraction.

He's not sure whether it's mercy or the sweetest of torture when you approach him, eyes darting down his body in a way that's half-assessing, half appraising before the heat-shock of your touch makes contact, pieces his skin back together.

(The thing is, Jason's attuned to everything about you, has been ever since you pulled Roy's flayed skin back shut whilst the city was still smoking behind you, totally unafraid in scrub trousers and a hoodie.

He's got it bad, and it's not exactly subtle.

Roy and Kori haven't missed that, or the way he reacts to you, judging by the raised eyebrows and teasing smirks as they lean up against the wall and watch you work.

He hopes the glare he levels at them over the top of your head communicates exactly what he'll do to them if they open their mouths.

It all comes to a head on Monday evening, when you come home from your OR shift, duck into the shower and then come into the living room in a too-large grey t-shirt and deliciously short sleep pants.

Jason's heart stops for a second. He lets his eyes flit despairingly over to Roy and Kori as you prep your kit, watches their unrepentant grins with a burning resentment towards them.

Having you this close to him, worry-soft and lit like a Rembrant from the lamp on the side table without being able to touch you is the closest thing to hell there is. You're close enough that he can smell the overlapping, inoffensive fragrances of your facial skincare products, see the faint pearlescent sheen of the residue of some serum on the apples of your cheeks, the tip of your nose, the soft line of your jaw.

Your nitrile-gloved hand settles gently on the raw new skin just above his hip and he jumps, his own broad hand flying up defensively to catch your wrist and still your movement. It's a mistake he regrets immediately.

The skin of your wrist is still tacky-soft with still-settling moisturiser, hair curling damp where the spray of your shower caught it. Jason's mind spins an unbidden reel of your hands, smoothing lotion over the plush expanse of your thighs, the line of your neck and the gentle swell of your décolletage, the curve of your hip.

He presses his eyes shut tightly.

He feels feral, the hungry bones of him blown open and exposed like the hull of a shipwreck. He wants to worry marks the shape of his mouth into your thighs, your neck, across your collarbones. He wants your knees bracketing his hips, the weight of you on top of him.

God, he wants–

"Are you okay? You're not in too much pain, are you?" He hears you ask.

He knows he's in far too deep when the thought of tasting the way the words roll off your tongue flits across his mind.

"Sorry." He croaks, releasing your hand. "Instinct."

(Roy turns to Kori with a snort, murmuring low so you can't hear.

"He's been watching like he wants to eat them alive since the first time we met and it's a miracle he's got enough blood north of his waistband to be capable of speech, but sure. Instinct.")

[non-un-topo]

To the next adventure...

Image description and details under cut

I.D.

[A drawing of Nicky, Joe, Quynh, and Andy from The Old Guard. They are all in profile, walking in a straight line facing the sun. They are dressed in medieval clothing and armour, and each carry their own weapons and bags. Nicky has his sword, a crossbow, a quiver of bolts, a dagger at his belt and another strapped to his ankle. Joe is holding his sword, a bag, and a coin purse. Quynh's bow is over her back, and her quiver is at her hip. Two daggers are strapped to her belt, one of them matching Nicky's. Andy is holding her axe, two bags, and a dagger. They each have serene expressions and closed eyes, as if they're not in a hurry. In the background, the seasons change from winter to spring, summer, fall. There is an old tree behind them, and its branches change with the seasons.]

[lumineary-arts]

hey there, just wanted to say i really love your swap au!!

i do have a question in mind though, does N sacrafice himself the same way uzi does in episode 7?

yes. yes he does :) I mean, after losing his little sister, realizing he probably just kicked his dad down a hole and having JUST reunited with Z after going through torture the whole time... .. he felt like he still had the chance to do something right. That, being to save Z's life by sacrificing himself :(

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #155

Tony can be... a bit overbearing with his helicopter parent tendencies. To combat this, Peter sets up a small protocol with FRIDAY. 

Any time Tony wants to do something paranoid or invasive, FRIDAY is to send him a helpful article first, with titles like "Excessive Surveillance Can Harm Adolescent Development, Study Finds" and "Why Teens Need Privacy From Their Parents"

Peter leaves the choice of articles up to FRIDAY, trusting her to send ones that fit the situation.

While this protocol does get Tony to reconsider some of his more... extreme impractical requests, in most cases it fails to change his mind. Being hands-off about Peter's safety is not something he can do -- not when he knows the kinds of dangers this particular kid could face.

He's grateful for the insight that the protocol has given him, though. So instead of removing it, he decides to add to it. He asks FRIDAY to make it a two-way street. Now, whenever Peter complains about one of Tony's safety protocols, FRIDAY will send an article to help him understand

However, Tony doesn't anticipate the kinds of articles FRIDAY will choose. While she continues to send Tony studies and editorials, to Peter she sends news reports from Tony's past

Peter's mad that Tony has put trackers in everything he owns? -- "Tony Stark Still Missing: Inside Month Three of the Harrowing Search"

Peter hates the constant health monitoring that FRIDAY does when he's in the tower? -- "Death Wish or Death Sentence? Stark Behavior Tied to Secret Illness that Almost Cost Him His Life"

It goes on and on. For every seemingly insane overreach, there's a story, an experience Tony is trying to protect Peter from. 

They both still disagree about how much protection is too much, but at least they understand each other better now

[bonefall]

Hey, what makes a character a 'plot device but not a character'? And how do you not do that? I'm trying to do it on purpose but also I need to still make them interesting because it's on purpose, yknow?

A good skill to pick up is to learn to criticise criticism itself. A "plot device" is simply a thing that moves the plot along, it's a neutral literary analysis term! Usually, when people are angry that "a character has been used as a plot device," it doesn't mean they hate plot devices. It means they're gesturing at something deeper.

Runningwind and Bumble are equally plot devices in their deaths. They are both killed by the antagonist to escalate political tension. Runningwind is rarely "accused" of just being a plot device, and yet, we're talking about Bumble for the same thing.

So, why?

Well, Runningwind is just a background character, but in life, he was a part of the community. He was characterized as impatient but responsible. Yet, he wasn't SO important that he died with a bunch of unresolved plot threads.

He is mostly an extension of the entity of ThunderClan. His killing by Tigerstar, and the fear and paranoia that settles on the group after this, feel like a progression of the story insteas of something forced.

Bumble, on the other hand...

Is hated immediately by Gray Wing, when she's established as Turtle Tail's friend. Bumble's abuse at Tom the Wifebeater's hands invites even MORE investment. The rejection is shocking and upsetting. There's a story there about our main characters being imperfect; jealous, bigoted, and judgemental.

But, she is simply killed off. Everything they set up for this character is gone with little personalized fanfare. It's not a tragedy with a lesson about cruelty, or something anyone regrets.

It's just... plot. Gray Wing whinging that no one will like his shitty brother now that his body count is 2.

More than that, in the discussion of women in particular, "Fridging" was coined to give a name to the way women characters often don't get their stories told at all. There is a CULTURAL trend of female characters facing disproportionate violence, for the sake of advancing male plots.

Bumble has a lot going for her. Petal had a lot going for her. Turtle Tail had a lot going for her. Bright Stream had a lot going for her. When they died, they took their potential with them.

It's not always wrong to kill off a character of high potential, mind you. In Gurren Lagann, Kamina's death is sudden and shocking, leaving a massive hole in the hearts of the cast that never heals. Grappling with that loss, but also letting his memory fuel them, is a major theme of that story.

All that to say... there's no formula for avoiding it. You've gotta identify what the deeper issue is, in your specific narrative.

I can't say for certain what that will look like for your story, but here's some things I keep in mind;

When you make characters who exist to die, make sure they're people before you axe them.

Ask yourself; what about them does the cast miss?

If they just miss them because they were (pre-existing relationship), go back to the drawing board.

Fluttering Bird as an example. Who was she? Dead sister. Why do they miss her? Dead sister. No traits until after her death.

Runningwind was short-tempered and helpful. Kamina was a valuable leader who made people believe in a brighter future. Swiftpaw was fiesty and desperate to prove himself. The better characterized, the more profound the loss usually is.

If this is a female character who is dying just to serve the plot, be aware of cultural bias and tropes. How is the gender ratio looking in your cast? Is this happening disproportionately with your girls?

Note how Quiet Rain's litter had both a boy and a girl, but the girl was chosen to be "weaker" and wither away.

And how most of the time in DOTC, whenever a man had to be upset, a girl would get killed for it.

If you ever feel like the character on the chopping block is NOT a full character, ask yourself why it needs to be a character at all. You don't need to spend narrative time building out someone when a literal object of high value might suffice.

"My sister died when I swore to protect her and I can't face my family" = Old. Tired. Ive seen this.

"I lost my heirloom sword when I swore to protect it and I can't face my family." = Fascinating. Why was the sword so valuable? Will they really not take you back? How did you lose it?

When you do kill off "high value" characters, try to make sure you're not leaving too many plot threads hanging. Or at least make a point of how they will never get closure.

[otome-dissection]

compilation of Hey What The Fuck Did They Mean By This

[22bananapudding]

an observation

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

the flower ranchers energy is something else this season. they hate each other but also can't get enough of each other. tango's scathing "it's you" to scott at the beginning but his teasing "pumpkin boy" towards him in the last session. scott generally being a menace to jimmy but also trying to help him make a guess on tango's task. jimmy rushing to defend tango and trying to say scott was making things up (and then also the teasing/crooning way he went "he's gone shy, tango!" to scott HELLO??) meanwhile tango was absolutely cackling on the inside bc scott was right and jimmy wasn't getting it.

idk i need to examine that trio under a microscope bc we've never really seen those three properly interact and this is what we get??? /pos

[miqo-tia]

I like Alisaie's continuous distaste for self sacrifice. In a genre where self sacrifice is usually something noble and necessary, it's refreshing to see a character say "No. There is another way. You are not losing it all for this cause. You will live to see your efforts bear fruit."

[zirconisblue]

i made some vash & ww design sheets :)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

pygmalion and galatea for aroace people

you should tell your friends what I look like, riz gukgak.