#inconvenient crossroads

[pivlywhip]

Back in Dragon Age Hell so I redesigned Amira’s Winter Palace dress so instead of completely ignoring the advice of her advisors and insisting on a Fereldan style cut she looks a little more appropriate for Orlais (even if she still hates Orlais.)

This is set in @world-of-thedas and I’s multiple Warden AU, where through a series of butterfly effects Warden Commander Amira Surana ends up at the conclave and receives the anchor.

[world-of-thedas]

Heraldry for the Orlesian noble House Allard. 

The Allard’s are a typical Orlesian noble family, perhaps their one claim to fame is their relation to Divine Aurelia, who had a brief and unnoteworthy reign during the Towers Age. Since then, the family has fallen into relative decline.

Most recently the family has been subject to a series of scandals starting when the heir apparent, Eugene Allard, ran off to marry a commoner- a fisherman’s son no less. The expulsion of Eugene from Orlesian nobility was not long followed by the head of the family, Baron Dion Allard, securing a marriage contract to his dear friend Kyros Trevelyan V’s only daughter, Neerah Trevelyan. Who was more than thirty years his junior. 

The wedding was called off just days before it was due to take place. And although the exact details of its cancellation have been kept quiet, it has resulted in a very public power struggle for control of the Allard family between Dion and his eldest child, Colette, who happens to be just three years older than Baron Dion’s lost bride. Yet another fact adding to the scandal that the Baron would take such a young bride.

Dragon 9:30

[fly-sky-high-bug-games]

So if the well was just a well at some point, what was the original entrance to the crossroads from dirtmouth? It can't be just the stag, right? Did they use the mines entrance? Or went a long way around from howling cliffs to greenpath?

[illuminas-biggest-hater]

random question...but do you have any hobbies besides fishing? any talents?

"We have some...not many."

"We enjoy talking with spirits....we sometimes envy them. That freedom they have... we also enjoy discovering places that have been long abandoned, there's a certain...comfort to them for us. There's also the occasional mischief...but that's not exactly a secret."

"Talents? We are....musically talented. We can play the lyre & ukulele...we're fairly good at it too. We can sing a little too..."

[cemeterything]

the whole folk legend of using crossroads to trap demons or confuse ghosts to prevent them from coming back to haunt you is kind of funny to me because it's not like there's anything special about crossroads that make them a problem for demons and ghosts specifically. like they're kind of just universally inconvenient for everyone who encounters them. congrats on your anti-supernatural defence system man. now can you remember which way to go to get home? lol

[kawaxyart]

Made myself a Ninjago Oc, specifically a Serpentine.

Meet Sunspot/Xihu, an halfling of Venomari and Hypnobrai (Pyro Viper).

They work at the crossroad as a street vendor and a dancer/performer, loves to incorporate fire on his antics. Can hypnotize others through his venom, a very inconvenient skill.

[hiromusicarts-blog]

本日発売の新譜「crossroads」ですが、お陰様で無事に発売に至ったようです。 予約分に関しては、今のところamazon以外の複数のサイトで「遅延」「入荷待ち」などの情報があり、ご迷惑をおかけしているようです。 また、配送が、ショップによってまちまちで、今日の配達のところもあれば、２～３日後に配達のお店もありで、中には１週間ほどかかるところもあるようです。気長にお待ちいただければ幸いです。 そして、これからご注文される場合、現段階ですでに「取り寄せ商品」「未入荷」になっているところも多数あり、さらにお届けに時間がかかるようです。必ず流通が回復しますので、こちらもお待ちいただければと思っています。ご了承くださいませ。 ＊なお,配信サービス、iTunes（AppleMusic)、レコチョクなどは、ほとんど全て出揃いましたが、それらは、別便にてアップします。

The new album ``Crossroads'' released today seems to have been released successfully thanks to your support. Regarding pre-orders, there are currently reports on multiple sites other than Amazon that they are "delayed" or "backordered", which may cause some inconvenience. Also, delivery times vary depending on the shop; some may deliver today, others may deliver 2-3 days later, and some may take up to a week. We appreciate your patience. If you are about to place an order, there are many places where the item is already on back order or out of stock, so it will take longer to deliver. We are sure that distribution will be restored, so we ask that you please wait. Thank you for your understanding.

在庫ありのamzonと海外ユーザー向けのサイトを載せておきます

[zvaigzdelasas]

[The Hill is US Private Media]

Earlier this year, The Hill published an Op-Ed I wrote that was titled “Puerto Rico’s political status, an issue of national security.” In that piece I presented a series of events to stress and relate the political future of Puerto Rico, its importance to the U.S. national security needs and how foreign powers push their agenda through the pro-independence movement within the island.

This past June, the United Nations Decolonization Committee met to discuss the issue of Puerto Rico at the request of Cuba. That body also passed the 41st consecutive resolution asking for the island’s self-determination and independence, with complete disregard of the will of its residents, who are US citizens. I tried to set the record straight by submitting a written and oral statement but the representative of Cuba had other plans. My statement blew the Cuban representative’s mind that led to an interruption rampage. Somehow my statement[...] made him forget that he was not in Cuba and that the UN is a place where different points of view are supposed to come together in order to encourage a thorough discussion of the issues pressing the world. I can attest that this wasn’t one of the UN’s best moments. 

But what was he trying to hide? Simple, for the Cuban representative, the truth is inconvenient. Its ties with China and Russia are publicly known and widely reported. The Wall Street Journal, in June 20, 2023, wrote “Beijing Plans a New Training Facility in Cuba.” This is something that the Cuban representative did not want on the UN record. But why would China want to establish a military training facility in Cuba? Maybe for the same reason, the Chinese wanted to buy what used to be Roosevelt Roads Naval Station in Puerto Rico but couldn’t. [...]

In June 2023, Francisco Urdinez wrote for the [US industry thinktank] Wilson Center, “At the OAS, where China is an observer, an analysis by George Meek showed that between 1948 and 1974, the United States influenced 75 percent of the 297 roll-call votes. That influence has clearly diminished. Between 2001 and 2021, countries in which China has displaced the United States economically were 26 percentage points less likely to vote in alignment with Washington than other member states.” This clearly represents a shift in political power because of ill conceived policies that fail to recognize the importance of U.S. leadership in Latin America.[...]

It is important to remember that the involvement of foreign powers and interests in Latin America is not new. In 2011, the subcommittee on Counterterrorism and Intelligence of the U.S. House of Representatives held a hearing on Hezbollah in Latin America — Implications on U.S. Homeland Security, and received the testimony of Ambassador Roger F. Noriega, former US Ambassador to the Organization of American States (OEA) and stated, “Hugo Chaves hosted a terror summit of senior leaders of Hamas (supreme leader “Khaled Meshal), Hezbollah (unnamed “chief operations”), and Palestinian Islamic Jihad (Secretary General Ramadan Abdullah Mohammad Shallah) in Caracas on August 22, 2010. That extraordinary meeting was organized at the suggestion of Iran,… In addition to the summit, operatives from other countries gathered in Caracas to meet with these terrorist chieftains.”

These are but a few indications that Puerto Rico’s political status may have a significant impact on U.S. security and foreign policy interests. The island’s current political status is not sustainable and when it comes to an end there will be only two options: it either becomes a state, thereby ensuring a strategic U.S. presence at the crossroads of the Americas, or it becomes a sovereign country which would be tantamount to ceding the island to our adversaries. The longer Congress takes to act on Puerto Rico’s political status, the greater the likelihood of the latter outcome.[...]

[The Author] José Enrique Meléndez-Ortiz, Esq., LLM., is representative at large in Puerto Rico’s House of Representatives.

"Puerto Rican Independence is a Russian-Chinese-Iranian Plot" now a mainstream narrative being pushed among self described progressive media by sitting politicians [22 Oct 23]

[saltminerising]

I bought a dragon from someone for 50kt (not even g1) because I needed the colors for a breeding project, and they only sold it to me on the condition that they got the first nest. And I was like. Fine whatever. Because I'm that desperate for this fandragon because he's of my fucking comfort character. And then they specifically said they wanted it to still be a banescale nest and it's like. Fuck dude I'm trying to breed it with a modern I was just gonna breedchange it to a fucking tundra or whatever. So I'm like. Fine okay do you like the potential kids if I pair them with this banescale I have? And they said it was fine. The nest hatched, they took like a day to get back to me. And they said "actually can you breed another nest I don't like any of these." And I'm like!!! FUCK FINE WHATEVER!!! Whatever. Fucking whatever. I'll breed it again. Not like I fucking VALUE MY TIME and I was hoping to fucking breed my STUPID FANDRAGON WHEN THE COOLDOWN WAS OVER. And now I'm going to have to wait for TWO FUCKING COOLDOWNS INSTEAD OF ONE. When I was SO CLOSE to finally fucking getting my stupid fucking fandragon for my stupid fucking favorite character. ALSO the dragon had been sitting in their hibden unnamed for SIX MONTHS in a tab that said something like "soon to be exalted" so it wasn't even like I was asking to buy one of their permas or anything. It's SO FUCKING FRUSTRATING. I want to BANG MY FUCKING HEAD AGAINST A WALL. I want to BLOCK THEM and not FUCKING DEAL WITH THEM ANYMORE. But I don't want to be FUCKING RUDE. I don't want to fucking pull ANOTHER one of my perma banes out of hibden to breed with this fucking banescale I don't even CARE about apart from BREEDING A FANDRAGON. I feel so fucking defeated. I'm sorry for the fucking long ass ask I'm just so. Fucking hell. Does this person not understand??? The concept of breeding cooldowns??? The concept that once a dragon leaves your lair it isn't yours?? That I didn't HAVE to agree to breed the dragon for them???

Fucking. What do you guys think. Would I be an asshole if I just fucking blocked them and bred my stupid fucking fandragon.

Anon that sent in that whole rant about the banescale breeder. i cancelled the crossroad because they didnt want the babies and they just dmed me "I hope it's not too inconvenient for you to wait another round" and GRRRR I WNAT TO BURY MYSELF IN SOIL

[phightinghottakes]

I don't think i've seen anyone in the fandom talk about that dialogue on the telephone with Broker and Medkit. Like, yeah it says they work together, but ALSO:

"Honestly, you moving into Crossroads has been nothing but an inconvenience for all of us. I thought we were supposed to protect you, y'know? That's kind of the entire deal? If I didn't know any better, I would think you're trying to run away from us!"

Like seriously. These three lines of dialogue is SO LOADED. Medkit has actually moved into crossroads. Broker has the feeling that Medkit is trying to run away, and although Broker plays it off as a joke at the end, it's maybe the most reliable information we have, since Broker is a stalker. AND Medkit probably made a deal for the cult to protect him, and his moving away is most likely straining his work relations with Scythe and Broker.

I mean, I found out about this only a couple days ago, but it's DRIVING ME INSANE that nobody is talking about this.

PLEASE someone write or talk or draw about Medkit trying to distance himself from the cult secretly, as Scythe and Broker try to pretend everything is normal it has SO MUCH ANGST-

I'm gonna stop myself here before I talk wayyy too much.

I would but 1. I just woke up and 2. I’ve been very sad this week for no particular reason.

[sitp-recs]

do you have any favorite time loop drarry fics?

Hi there! I sure do 😉

Swish and Flick by @unmistakablyoatmeal (E, 7k)

The Swish and Flick is the last place Draco wants to spend his Saturday evening—especially when he discovers Potter is also in attendance—and he can't wait for the night to end. Unfortunately for Draco, time is not on his side.

flashback, warm nights by warmfoothills (M, 13k)

“What’s killing me is that I actually quite fucking like Christmas, festival-for-a-personally-irrelevant-religion-turned-commercialised-garbage-holiday though it may be, and now I’m stuck in the perpetual almost-there of it all with an idiot who gets himself cut up every time no matter how differently I try and do things!”

Boats, but Not the Ocean by p1013 (E, 15k)

If Draco ever gets his hands on this Bill Murray character, he's going to kill him.

At the Crossroads There We’ll Meet by @firethesound (E, 24k)

Potter keeps dying; Draco keeps saving him.

The Inconvenient Death(s) of Harry Potter by @nv-md (E, 33k)

Harry and Draco have spent the decade since the War avoiding each other, even as they’re forced to work together at the Ministry and their friend groups begin to alarmingly overlap. But what happens when Harry meets a tragic end (in a manner of speaking) and Draco’s the only one who can save him?

The Day Before the Wedding by @kbrick (E, 39k)

Harry's getting married to Ginny tomorrow. The problem is that he can't seem to get beyond today.

It’s No Great Mystery by agentmoppet (E, 57k)

Who on earth decided that bringing back the Yule Ball for their eighth year would be a good idea? It feels like the worst day of Harry’s life, watching everyone get glammed up like the war never happened, like the last Triwizard Tournament wasn’t such a colossal failure.

Time and Again by @manixzen (E, 69k)

Harry's absolutely sure it's Malfoy's fault that they are stuck reliving the same day over and over.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop (E, 70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always.

Timecode by Rasborealis (M, 73k)

Harry Potter has been dead for two years, and Draco would laugh in the face of anyone claiming differently. Well, anyone but Hermione Granger.

[pivlywhip]

@world-of-thedas ‘s Cassian Tabris being shifty in the shadows, about to fuck with Amira one of his favorite hobbies.

[thebrickinbrick]

The Situation Becomes Aggravated, Part 1

The daylight was increasing rapidly. Not a window was opened, not a door stood ajar; it was the dawn but not the awaking. The end of the Rue de la Chanvrerie, opposite the barricade, had been evacuated by the troops, as we have stated, it seemed to be free, and presented itself to passers-by with a sinister tranquillity. The Rue Saint-Denis was as dumb as the avenue of Sphinxes at Thebes. Not a living being in the crossroads, which gleamed white in the light of the sun.

Nothing is so mournful as this light in deserted streets. Nothing was to be seen, but there was something to be heard. A mysterious movement was going on at a certain distance. It was evident that the critical moment was approaching. As on the previous evening, the sentinels had come in; but this time all had come.

The barricade was stronger than on the occasion of the first attack. Since the departure of the five, they had increased its height still further.

On the advice of the sentinel who had examined the region of the Halles, Enjolras, for fear of a surprise in the rear, came to a serious decision. He had the small gut of the Mondétour lane, which had been left open up to that time, barricaded. For this purpose, they tore up the pavement for the length of several houses more.

In this manner, the barricade, walled on three streets, in front on the Rue de la Chanvrerie, to the left on the Rues du Cygne and de la Petite Truanderie, to the right on the Rue Mondétour, was really almost impregnable; it is true that they were fatally hemmed in there. It had three fronts, but no exit.—“A fortress but a rat hole too,” said Courfeyrac with a laugh.

Enjolras had about thirty paving-stones “torn up in excess,” said Bossuet, piled up near the door of the wine-shop.

The silence was now so profound in the quarter whence the attack must needs come, that Enjolras had each man resume his post of battle.

An allowance of brandy was doled out to each.

Nothing is more curious than a barricade preparing for an assault. Each man selects his place as though at the theatre. They jostle, and elbow and crowd each other. There are some who make stalls of paving-stones. Here is a corner of the wall which is in the way, it is removed; here is a redan which may afford protection, they take shelter behind it. Left-handed men are precious; they take the places that are inconvenient to the rest. Many arrange to fight in a sitting posture. They wish to be at ease to kill, and to die comfortably. In the sad war of June, 1848, an insurgent who was a formidable marksman, and who was firing from the top of a terrace upon a roof, had a reclining-chair brought there for his use; a charge of grape-shot found him out there.

As soon as the leader has given the order to clear the decks for action, all disorderly movements cease; there is no more pulling from one another; there are no more coteries; no more asides, there is no more holding aloof; everything in their spirits converges in, and changes into, a waiting for the assailants. A barricade before the arrival of danger is chaos; in danger, it is discipline itself. Peril produces order.

As soon as Enjolras had seized his double-barrelled rifle, and had placed himself in a sort of embrasure which he had reserved for himself, all the rest held their peace. A series of faint, sharp noises resounded confusedly along the wall of paving-stones. It was the men cocking their guns.

Moreover, their attitudes were prouder, more confident than ever; the excess of sacrifice strengthens; they no longer cherished any hope, but they had despair, despair,—the last weapon, which sometimes gives victory; Virgil has said so. Supreme resources spring from extreme resolutions. To embark in death is sometimes the means of escaping a shipwreck; and the lid of the coffin becomes a plank of safety.

As on the preceding evening, the attention of all was directed, we might almost say leaned upon, the end of the street, now lighted up and visible.

They had not long to wait. A stir began distinctly in the Saint-Leu quarter, but it did not resemble the movement of the first attack. A clashing of chains, the uneasy jolting of a mass, the click of brass skipping along the pavement, a sort of solemn uproar, announced that some sinister construction of iron was approaching. There arose a tremor in the bosoms of these peaceful old streets, pierced and built for the fertile circulation of interests and ideas, and which are not made for the horrible rumble of the wheels of war.

The fixity of eye in all the combatants upon the extremity of the street became ferocious.

A cannon made its appearance.

Artillery-men were pushing the piece; it was in firing trim; the fore-carriage had been detached; two upheld the gun-carriage, four were at the wheels; others followed with the caisson. They could see the smoke of the burning lint-stock.

“Fire!” shouted Enjolras.

The whole barricade fired, the report was terrible; an avalanche of smoke covered and effaced both cannon and men; after a few seconds, the cloud dispersed, and the cannon and men reappeared; the gun-crew had just finished rolling it slowly, correctly, without haste, into position facing the barricade. Not one of them had been struck. Then the captain of the piece, bearing down upon the breech in order to raise the muzzle, began to point the cannon with the gravity of an astronomer levelling a telescope.

“Bravo for the cannoneers!” cried Bossuet.

And the whole barricade clapped their hands.

A moment later, squarely planted in the very middle of the street, astride of the gutter, the piece was ready for action. A formidable pair of jaws yawned on the barricade.

[sweet-child-of-night]

Not sure if you are a fan of scifi but i have a prompt that relates to that : You're an immortal. She is a time traveller. Every now and then, you two pop into each other lives.

I watched mostly, since i would always forget the beginning and there would be no end, there was little else to do, living felt like playing a pawn in chess, just one step at a time however for a pawn like me death was uncertain. I had no effect and all my actions led to no consequences, anything i built faded away, anyone i met gone, it all seemed inconsequential. I have watched an endless ocean of humanity but none of them memorable.

Except for her.

There was always a "her." A woman who seemed to exist at the crossroads of history. I'd seen her in the shadow of the pyramids, amidst the chaotic streets of the French Revolution, even brushing shoulders with Einstein just before his groundbreaking discovery. Each encounter felt brief and tense, a missed connection in the grand tapestry of time.

The last time we met, it wasn't pleasant. else. She tried to kill me, I couldn't die. Let's just say the cobblestone streets of 18th-century Paris ran red that day. But death, for me, was more of an inconvenience than a threat. So, I decided to disappear, hoping it would appease her.

Now, here she was again. Sitting across from me at a quaint Parisian cafe, a stark contrast to our last encounter. Two shots of espresso, just like before, but her blonde hair seemed duller this time, and her usually bright eyes held a flicker of worry.

"So," I began, the clinking of spoons against porcelain the only sound, "what exactly are you?"

“I could ask you the same. No matter when I am, you look almost exactly how you did before."

“Well what can i say? I have a seven step skin care routine” i say “but seriously, are you like me?”

”what do you mean like you?” She reached for my espresso, taking a generous swig before I could protest.

"Immortal, I suppose. Are you the same?"

The smile vanished, replaced by a grimace. "Not quite. I am an associate of temporal continuum task force, we mend inconsistencies in time."

Intrigue pricked at my jaded soul. "So like a plumber?”

She sighed, snatching my napkin and wiping a speck of coffee from her lip. "Well, we mend tears in time, historical injuries that threaten the flow of things. Consider us like time doctors”

"It's not exactly fixing things," she continued, her voice catching. "We can't rewrite history. But we can nudge it, prevent catastrophes that would unravel the fabric of time."

A sardonic chuckle escaped my lips. "Uh huh. Figures why you're always lurking around during pivotal moments."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh! You remember me?"

"Hard to forget the face of the assassin who tried to snuff me out," I replied with a wry laugh. The memory still sent a phantom tingle up my spine, but time had dulled the sharp edge of betrayal.

"Ugh, about that," she mumbled, cheeks flushing a charming shade of crimson as she averted her gaze. "Knowing what you know now, maybe it's a little more understandable?"

I waved a dismissive hand. "No worries, love. Water under the bridge. Besides," I leaned back, a chuckle rumbling in my chest, "18th century France wasn't exactly a picnic. French or you, someone was probably going to send me to meet the business end of a guillotine."

A tense silence stretched between us, thick with the unspoken weight of our past encounters. I could practically see the gears turning in her head, piecing together the fragments of our bizarre, time-hopping connection. We both nursed lukewarm coffee, the steam curling skyward like unspoken thoughts.

Finally, unable to contain my curiosity any longer, I broke the silence. "So, spill it. Something big's brewing today, isn't it?"

“Yeah there is a tear nearby, I must mend it in time or we lose billions of lives to this monstrosity” she scoffed, a glint of disgust in her eyes.

The weight of her words settled on me like a leaden cloak. She wasn't just an observer; she was a guardian angel. "Sounds...pretty cool…not the tear but your dedication to saving lives" I managed, the words feeling pathetically inadequate next to the weight of her mission.

A genuine smile, tinged with sadness, broke through her worry. "Yeah, it can be. It's what keeps me going."

Suddenly, her watch beeped, a harsh sound severing the fragile connection.

"Damn," she muttered, downing the rest of my espresso in one go. "I have to go. There's a tear in a few hours, and..."

without even realising, i extended my hand holding hers. It was delicate and tender "Let's talk about something else," I blurted, desperate to hold onto this unexpected moment of connection. "Anything but this mission."

She paused, surprised. "You sure? You have questions, right?"

"Yes, but they can wait? You look…burdened."

She didn’t say a word but sat down in front of me again, looking into her eyes made me feel the same way when i had my first bite of that frozen desert.

“Where are you from” i asked in a gentle whisper

"The end of time…”

"Lonely, isn't it?" I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “carrying this weight of an entire universe on her shoulders.”

“It's sorta lonely, I'll admit. We know nothing more is going to happen, ever. Almost takes the fun away from living. But! I get to experience so many different time periods. I get to meet new people, see new things, explore SO many different worlds, so it makes up for it…”

"Sometimes," she continued,"when I have the free time, I like to go out to a nice little spot, a couple of millennia ahead of here and a couple of galaxies away, to this beautiful little ocean planet. There's so many wonders there; I never get tired of looking at it."

She smiled at me, probably happy that she had an equal to talk to in one of these time periods.

"I hope I get to see it one day," I said with a wink.

A small beep interrupted us again, She looked down at her wrist, noting the time.

"I must leave. It'll be soon, and I need to be in position."

I wasn't finished. I wanted to talk more.

"You gonna come around some more? Maybe come by for a chat when you have the free time?"

"Yeah...I'll save your coordinates.”

Her fingers danced across a sleek, metallic device strapped to her wrist, a flurry of light swirling around it for a moment. Locking eyes with me,

"Didn't think about it, but you must get lonely too," she admitted, her voice softer than the whisper of forgotten stars. "Living through all these centuries...makes sense why you'd want someone who gets it."

She waved goodbye, and that was the last I saw of her.

————————

That was...the last I saw of her. Ever. I get the feeling something bad happened that day. It was huge. All over the news. Something about a bunch of bombs...cleared out about 30 city blocks. It's -- I can't get it off my mind. I've had eons to think about this. Literal eons. I watched the world end. I watched the galaxy end. I witnessed the eventual heat death of the universe, and here I am, and I still can't stop thinking about it.

The man across from me drilled his eyes into mine, his gaze as sharp as a shard of obsidian. He continued typing entire detail about in his device

"It checks out, that's for sure. You've..." The guy laughs. "You've really come a long way. I just can't wrap my head around why this woman would stick in your mind for so long."

I don't know either. There's something nagging at me, some bit of the puzzle I need to make sense of. Something she said.

"Look, she said -- she said that you guys were like time engineers or something."

The guy corrects me “time doctors”. He's heard this before. He knows.

"And you guys are supposed to help patch up time. She's been doing a lot of patching. If my memory holds, she's been doing a lot of patching. And I've been doing a lot of living."

I think I know.

"Maybe it's my turn. Maybe there's an injury in time that I'm supposed to heal.

The guy nods at me. He sees sense.

"Well just so you know she left on that exact same mission you talked about maybe two hours ago. I mean she might even be trying to kill you as we speak but i can put you down on her coordinates at...” he flicked some switches on his device which is wrapped around his wrist “well mister i hope you are wrong about it”

I hope I'm wrong too. In case I'm not, then I can do more this time. I know more now.

And if I fail?

I think I won't mind seeing another few eons to have another crack at it…..

[quandaryqueen]

I read your other soul mate posts and absolutely loved them. So I'd like to ask for one of my own. Feel free to ignore this if you don't want to do it. BTAS Jon and Ed with a red thread of fate that can be interacted. Like you could pull on it and the other would feel it, but the Reader is really clumsy and more often than not winds up giving it a yank that would send the boys flying. But some times it ends up saving them too.

Tangled

BTAS Edward Nygma X Reader

BTAS Jonathan Crane X Reader

Soulmate au! Gosh I have the mental image of the reader, due to their clumsy nature, getting tangled up in the strings and ngl it's a cute little image but anyways--! I just love red strings of fate and I am ELATED at the fact that someone has requested it! Thank you 💝

💚 Edward Nygma

First of all, he is mentally cursing at his soulmate to mind their steps! Honestly, one of these days you'd pull him alongside you and it would result in catastrophe!

So when he held a little get-together with Gotham citezens in an event venue as hostage, somewhere in the crowd was someone getting their ankle through their strings so violently, they managed to cause others to lose their balance... Including Edward. But Edward has had a good look at the catalyst of the trouble, and he knew.

Not long after that little trip up of yours, you have somehow got yourself caught in your string and stumbling, resulting for your soulmate to be yanked forward, almost bumping against a nearby civilian. See? Catastrophe? Not to mention, humiliating!

He wouldn't admit it, but you have saved him sometimes. Save for example, the time where he wasn't minding his environment and he would have almost been snagged by a vehicle by the crossroad if you didn't trip in your own strings again.

"Watch it!" He exclaims, not bothering to pick himself up when he barely clung to a podium to catch his fall. He didn't need to follow the glowing red string tied around his finger, he fucking knew it was you. He locks eyes with you at the back of the other hostages, on your stomach with sheepish eyes greeting his narrowed ones. Fantastic, so this is how he meets his soulmate.

🧡 Jonathan Crane

As much as possible, he tries to level himself down whenever your little trip ups occur. He simply can't let your little hiccups make a fool of himself in front of others, but if he did, he tries to remain stone-faced. Let no one say that the Scarecrow is ever caught off-guard. In rare occasions though, you do catch him off-guard, even pulling a yelp out of him.

Gosh he can't blame you though, as sometimes the strings do get in the way in ways that he finds inconvenient. Like, imagine tripping on the red string and getting caught by the Bat. You're clumsy, but you couldn't be him.

So... Meeting you. That's a fun little story.

Nonchalantly meandering about the mall, when he stumbled upon the Halloween section, in which he entertains himself by perusing along with isles of plactic pumpkins and autumn themed candles. As he tries to reach to smell one of the candles, he stops to steady himself when he fells a pull. It would be an expensive mistake if he were to stumble forward.

Weirdly enough, he hears someone squealing from the other side of the shelf. What an odd coincidence. Then when he looked down, he sees the string tied on his pinky finger glow red. Oh.

Anticipation pits at the bottom of his stomach as he walks by the next isle, tracing the trajectory of the string with his gaze, only to see the end of it connect to an individual's ankle, as they try to set themself free, muttering under their breath. How did you even get yourself caught?

"Ahem." With Jonathan clearing his throat, you looked up to see him.

"Sorry, can I help you?" You nervously smiled up at him. God it was so embarrassing that you haven't even made the attempt to get off the floor yet.

He gestures at the strings and he watches realisation unfold from your features. Well, this should be fun.

[drarryglobesficrecs]

Time Travel - drarry fic recs

Just a Matter of Time by gracerene(23k)

Draco's in a bit of a rut. He's nearing forty, divorced, and he still can't figure out how to make his Time Turner reconstruction work. He's bored, he can admit it, so he's not nearly as concerned as he should be when his pet project malfunctions and sends him twenty years into the past. That is, until he ends up relying on a nineteen-year-old Harry Potter for help and starts developing some very inconvenient—and possibly reciprocated—feelings.

The Lesson of You by thecouchsofa(65k)

Harry likes kids. That doesn't mean he's ready for a small boy to turn up on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place insisting that Harry is his father. That was weird enough, but the child identifying Draco Malfoy as his other parent was something Harry had no bloody idea how to handle.

Quick as a Flash of Lightning, Unhurried as Eternity by babooshk_art, onbeinganangel(10k)

Can you fall in love with someone by simply watching them fiercely love another version of yourself?

Eternally Consistent by kitsunealyc(44k)

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter assumed they would never be anything but civil enemies, until Potter lands on Malfoy's doorstep, bleeding, covered in curses, and acting very strangely indeed.

Mind Your Language (There Are Children Present!) by reedenryete(3k)

Third-Year students Draco and Harry froze in a ridiculous picture -- Draco gripping Harry harshly by the collar of his robes and Harry pausing mid-punch with his fist just inches away from Draco’s face -- when their thirty-something-year-old selves fell from the sky in a stumbling heap.

Far From The Tree by aideomai(112k)

The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.

Tea and No Sympathy by who_la_hoop(70k)

It's Potter's fault, of course, that Draco finds himself trapped in the same twenty-four-hour period, repeating itself over and over again. It's been nearly a year since the unpleasant business at Hogwarts, and Draco's getting on with his life quite nicely, thank you, until Harry sodding Potter steps in and ruins it all, just like always. At first, though, the time loop seems liberating. For the first time in his life, he can do anything, say anything, be anything, without consequence. But the more Draco repeats the day, the more he realises the uncomfortable truth: he's falling head over heels for the speccy git. And suddenly, the time loop feels like a trap. For how can he ever get Harry to love him back when time is, quite literally, against him?

At the Crossroads There We’ll Meet by firethesound(24k)

Potter keeps dying; Draco keeps saving him.

Annus Mirabilis by Ren(39k)

Harry and Malfoy are trapped at Hogwarts around the time the school was founded. Stuck with a different way of doing magic, with no chocolate, and with each other, they have to find a way to work together if they want a chance to go home.

Every New Beginning by fencer_x(140k)

“You curl your lip and wrinkle your nose and sneer and call me Saviour, yet you only seek my help at the eleventh hour. That’s what’s fucked up, Malfoy.” || Draco Malfoy is dead, and Harry is absolutely totally fine with that.

Draco Malfoy and the Mirror of Ecidyrue by starbrigid(90k)

All it takes is one look in a mirror and an ill-advised attempt to shatter it, before an embittered Draco Malfoy fresh out of Azkaban is sent back into his body on the day he gets his Hogwarts letter.

Suddenly, Draco has an unwanted second chance, with a Sorting Hat that doesn't know what to do with him, a certain Muggleborn who won't leave his study table alone, and green eyes he just can't get out of his head. And then there's his new wand, whose choice of him could just mark him as every bit as dark a wizard as his name means he should be.