#just idk throwing the idea out here

[daughterofhecata]

Mir geht gerade wieder eine Fic Idee im Kopf herum, die ich vor einer Weile hatte (weil ich ja nicht noch mehr aufwändige Ideen brauche), weil ich mal wieder den "Reigen" gelesen habe und schon irgendwie ein interessantes Projekt wäre, dass auf DDF zu übertragen...

(Für die, die dem "Reigen" als Schullektüre entgangen sind: Das ist ein Theaterstück von Arthur Schnitzler, das aus zehn Szenen besteht. In jeder Szene haben zwei Figuren Sex und eine davon tritt dann in der nächsten wieder auf, sodass sich ein Muster ergibt 1. A/B -> 2. B/C -> 3. C/D und so weiter bis am Ende Figur J mit Figur A auftritt und sich der Kreis schließt.)

Und für mich als Multishipper, der gerne mit zwischenmenschlichen Dynamiken spielt, hat das Format natürlich total Potential (auch wenn ich das mit dem aufsteigenden sozialen Stand eher nicht übernehmen kann). Ich habe auch schon ein paar Ideen für Pairings, mal schauen, ob was daraus wird.

[onifanss]

Yansae •

[marragurl]

Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most comfort in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

[quarterprioritymidnight]

happy 3rd birthday to the hottest thing bastille has ever done anyone but me x nightmares (24.08.2020)

[spotaus]

Late Night quick thing (New Age Sillies)

Bad news: That joke post about including Reset + Orchid is definitely not canon. (I legit got sad thinking about Reset being in a universe where Orchid isn't- because their stories are so so intertwined- but Nightmare 100% would NOT risk the whole twins exploding Error's soul thing.)

Good news: This means I COULD include Kane (Reset's older brother who usually dies in timelines where Reset is born) and use it to develope his character a bit more! Also! Perhaps a Blue × Dream kiddo is finally in the stars for me to design?

[mettywiththenotes]

Oh I just had an idea

So I think Izuku will give Tomura OFA, I'm guessing this would defeat Tomura-AFO Quirk from the inside

Plus I guess it depends on how Izuku gives Tomura OFA, whether it is through dna or letting him take it, but...

If Izuku gives Tomura OFA via dna, what if Vestige Izuku gets into the Void to save Tenko while Real Izuku is still fighting with what he has left of OFA (because remember it takes a while for it to fully transfer over)?

Or if Izuku lets Tomura take OFA, if it's like an instantaneous transfer, then we'd have quirkless Izuku with Fully Quirked Tomura and that may bring up some feelings about how he used to be

In either scenario, I think it would be like a side-by-side sort of thing where Real Izuku confronts Tomura somehow while Vestige Izuku comforts Tenko

All while the other vestiges find and destroy Vestige AFO

That'd be cool I think

[radiance1]

So I have another idea that's kinda based off my other one.

More so in the way that Danny and Vlad are a dragon and phoenix. Danny being a dragon is kinda vital to this au AnYwAyS so.

Unlike in my other half king idea aus, Danny and Vlad do not have a truce, well kinda but also not. They won't go out of their way to fight each other if say, they're on the other side of the zone or out of it and such.

But as soon as they see each other physically it's on sight.

(Like all my other half king ideas, Danny has the crown and Vlad the ring.)

It doesn't matter where or when, as soon as they so much has make eye contact they drop every damn thing they be doing- important or not, and go blow to blow. Either in words or physically.

Though most of the time, fighting in words is when they're in human form, physically is almost always going to be in mythical beast form.

Not that it's 100% but it is what it is.

The reason being that Dragons and Phoenix's are either mortal enemies, or have a harmonious relationship with each other.

And in this case there is literally no in between.

And guess which one Danny and Vlad got.

So in one of their very recent fights, they managed to mortally wound each other. Which wouldn't be possible for ghosts, but since they're also half human they managed it.

So when they decided to fuck it and disregarding their shared status of Ghost King they make the choice to go the extra mile and finish the other off.

Not that it would actually kill them, but it's literally not much in the face of their shared eternity.

After pulling off the last attack, they both get knocked out, ectoplasm and blood flowing from their wounds but instead of falling into a random part of the ghost zone they instead fall into a portal that opened under their falling bodies.

They didn't fall through time, nor to anywhere on their earth.

No, they instead fell into another dimension entirely.

Vlad fell onto a farm, a loud crash announcing his entrance from the portal. His flames were weak, barely an ember from his magnificence that once was, not even hot enough to burn anything around him.

His blood started pooling under him and he twitched, the only thing telling that he was alive. He could faintly hear the sounds of hurried footsteps, waking him from unconsciousness and he struggled to open on of his eyes.

Imagine his surprise to see a farm, and an old human couple in front of him.

On Danny's side of things, he fell into a giant pit of glowing green liquid. He woke up after he fell in, and at first he thought it was Ectoplasm, but it wasn't.

It was too filled with life, the pure opposite of the death energy he was intimately familiar with. He could feel it stitching up his wounds, he could feel it invading his body and being not at all friendly with the ectoplasm in his blood.

He managed to drag himself out of the pool, his body felt weak and feeble despite how physically it looked like it was in prime condition. He could feel himself condensing from his place on the floor, his body slowly becoming the form of a giant egg of glowing white and green with streaks of an icey blue within.

The last thing he heard was the hurried click clacks of heels nearing his location, before he blacked out, the only thing left was the edges of his consciousness.

On another note, the Kent family, even with their son being Superman. Did not expect a giant phoenix to be resting, no doubt slowly bleeding to death, outside of their house after they heard a crash.

Neither was one Barbara Kean expecting to see a dragon turn into a giant egg after dragging itself out of the Lazarus Pit.

[snekdood]

bitches be like. i hate vegans so much that i’ve decided i like killing animals and its fine and i dont feel bad and animals dont have feelings and its fine and im cool subversive and different and edgy and like to post fucked up stuff to make vegans uncomfortable bc im just so cool

[reminiscentrainclouds]

You guys ever feel trapped? Yea I'm well-acquainted with the feeling of being trapped.

[strivia]

Something I've been mulling on is how fun it would've been if Cisco & Francisco had actually gotten to know each other. Got to be protective over each other. Got to bicker.

"What do you mean you don't know how to do that? I thought you were the experienced one with your powers!" "Shut up!"

Probably a reluctant allies situation.

I am a sucker for powers that flare with danger and emotions, and in Cisco, Harry intentionally tries to trigger his fear response to trigger his powers.

Anyway, the idea that Reverb doesn't really know how to repel speedsters. But also, Eobard killing Cisco left a mental scar that echoed across more than just one of the Cisco Ramons.

Since it seems Reverb trained his energy pulses a lot, his survival instincts unleashing a shockwave on more survival instinct than anything else when Zoom tries to kill him delights me.

Anyway, maybe this leads to Reverb teaming up with Cisco because he fears Zoom will retaliate on Dante. And even if Cisco doesn't like Reverb, that's something he can understand well.

[arolesbianism]

I wanna take a crack at making some fake screenshot graphics for my Sif Odile duo loopers au but I do not feel confident enough in my ability to mimic isat's art style and I also have a crippling fear of drawing backgrounds

[princeofhags]

I did the thing

[umemiyan]

they make me work today but give me nothing to do for several hours, so i have to try and find something to do to make it look like i'm accomplishing something on my little timer. but i think i shall write or do something else instead <3

[doerot]

So.

[evilkitten3]

having some thoughts on itachi and radicalization and how people can do the most horrific shit imaginable while fully believing it's the right thing to do and police states

[emdotcom]

For years, I've been trying to put into words Why I give a single iota about Bendy & the Ink Machine, but it's such a tangled mess that no thread can be seperated -- they're all interwoven in a way that makes it hard to pick them out. The game, overall, makes me miserable, because I can see that there was love put into it, but a lot of it is thrown to the wayside in favor of a story that I think was retroactively improved by the sequel's recontextualizing of it, but is ultimately not worth the price of admission & majorly drops the ball.

It's easy to list things I don't like about it -- the gameplay is sparse, the combat is uninteresting, none of the chapters feel connected, the bugs that assault all my playthroughs & kill my saves are consistent & fill me with dread every time I open the game, the lack of thought in the contents of a chapter (chapter 3's wheel ""puzzle"" & the animatronic Bendy from chapter 4, in specifc, really grind my gears), which speaks to the amateurish & rushed way that the game was crafted -- there's a lot to hate, & it's easy to hate it. But I don't. Despite all that, I am compelled by this game, by what it's trying & failing & trying again to say.

It's really easy to understand why you dislike something. I couldn't have told you much about what I did like, in Ink Machine.

& then, I played Dark Revival. I didn't realize I liked the story of Ink Machine, until I played Dark Revival. It's a better made game, it's just not fucking interesting, to me, because it doesn't have a story worth tuning in to.