#pan writes shit

[essektheylyss]

Open, non-exhaustive list of content I would read/watch in a heartbeat about the political situation in Rexxentrum post-Solstice:

One-shot or mini-arc of the Nein going full National Treasure level heist on the Cerberus Assembly records management department before a Ludinus simulacrum can reach the burn boxes

Faux Trump aide exposé-style novel of Athesias Uludan compiling and publishing The Dirt in the aftermath as part of his apology/comeback tour

Colville-run Dirty Dozen one-shot or EXU of Oliver Schreiber dragging some particularly unruly ex-Scourgers out of semi-retirement (read: house arrest) to take Ludinus out once and for all in exchange for full indemnity

Found documents a la Midst appendices of the Cobalt Soul documentation and evidence compiled about the incident

The Archmage: An Autobiography by Martinet Ludinus Da'leth (discovered and published posthumously) [1500 pages and riddled with exaggeration and inaccuracies, the last 20% has clearly been written by AI a simulacrum]

Lorekeeper rundown Youtube video from Dani Carr

Yet another novel: Wildemount's most (in)famous and (un)reliable documentarian smelled a story (Taryon's version)

Literally just a main campaign episode of the Nein infodumping to Allura at a war council meeting with the Hells present. I need this information so badly. I am fucking begging.

This sounds like it runs the gamut in level in terms of seriousness but I would like it stated for the record that I would unhinge my jaw to consume any item on this list.

[thee-radio-host-is-a-kookaburra]

"we should kill [queer identity]" ok so you're just queerphobic. got it

[kwyoz]

wow, i love when the dragon age fandom is very normal about veilguard's companions being pansexual and totally not being lowkey really fucking pan and bi phobic.

[blackbackedjackal]

Half of me is like "wow DogBlud really wanted to crush my werewolf project because of her own insecurities that's super fucked up" and the other half of me is like "haha fucking skill issue I'm gonna talk about Strawberry Moon so much now because🖕🖕🖕"

[ectonurites]

Uhhhh very late miwip wednesday? it is thursday.

I've had this au—Will as Robin, El as Batgirl, Mike as Spoiler + a few more Hawkins characters as Bats but I'll leave the rest a mystery for now—rattling around in my brain for like a week, and I don't know if I'll ever actually write out the full longfic idea I have for it, but I'll at least post snippets and some doodles 👍

Text under the cut if the images are hard to read hehe:

—

“I know I did it to you when we first met,” the sound of boots hitting the rooftop echoes behind him, “But it’s really not proper vigilante etiquette to take off someone else’s mask.” 

Mike whips around to face him—Robin, The Boy Wonder. While he’s figured out who the new Batgirl is, he hasn’t got a clue about this guy. Unless maybe it’s not just El—maybe all the Bats are connected to the lab? Robin could be a number, too.

He stares at the other boy, lost in thought, not sure what to say. 

When it must fully register that his comment isn’t getting a response, Robin shrugs and retracts his grapple, clicking it into place on his utility belt as he steps closer out of the shadows.

Mike quickly puts his mask back on, just for something to do with his hands, something to interrupt his gawking at least for a second. When he looks again, there’s now a layer between them—flimsy blue fabric that makes it a little less clear that he’s still staring. 

But how could he not? The two of them have only really met twice—when Robin had tackled him not realizing The Spoiler is a new hero not a villain, and when Robin had come to his window the following night telling him to hang up his cape. So really, this is the first time Mike can stop and take him in without some sense of urgency bleeding into the situation. The first time he can just… look.

His mask is a deep green leather molded into a sort of beak, and despite leaving a decent amount of his face uncovered, it conceals what could really be identifying—his eyes, his nose, parts of his cheeks. His warm smile is visible though, and Mike can’t help that his eyes are drawn to it. It’s just the part of his face I can see, he tells himself, but maybe that’s not the only reason. 

Robin runs a gloved hand through his gelled-back hair, a chestnut brown that Mike bets would glisten in sunlight. But Robin isn’t someone you see during the day. Bats only come out at night in Hawkins, even ones who wear bright colors. Red, yellow, and green—he’s like a traffic light.

Only now while glancing up and down as he crosses the rooftop, does Mike really register how small a guy Robin is, noticeably shorter than Mike himself. But regardless, he still moves with confidence, it makes his presence seem larger somehow—wise beyond his years.

[covenofthearticulate]

Home Court Advantage Rating: G Characters: Daniel Molloy, Louis de Pointe du Lac Additional Tags: excessive use of basketball terminology, just guys being bros, Daniel has such a crush on Louis it's embarrassing Word Count: 6,674

“Okay, well, see! You’ve never been to this bar, and you’ve never been with me, and you’ve never gone just to hang out. Think of it as a social experiment. Like a…like a bro date.” Oh, he hates himself as soon as those last two words come out of his mouth. He’s too old to say shit like that, but he doesn’t know how else to frame it. A little dose of modern masculinity, he thinks, would do them good. Not that Daniel was ever a broncking buck when it came to the world of sports and beer and the good ol’ American Way, but it feels nostalgic, at least. The sticky floor, the wood paneling, the smell of grease and hops. This is familiar. This is anywhere and everywhere, USA. There’s a strange calmness, even in the midst of the shouting and the flashing screens; a sense of normality he’ll never get at the opera or the symphony or any of the other date night destinations he frequents with Armand. “Besides,” he adds as they stroll through the doors, “if the Warriors tank too hard, you can always dip out for a little snack.”

[Read on AO3]

[multishipperbish]

i'm not dead, just overwhelmed by school work

[getvalentined]

Thinking about finally throwing all my FF7 meta analysis and lore deep dive stuff onto a sideblog. It'd be reblogged from here, but I'd be able to organize it a little better, have a directory so people could find things more easily, and maybe it'd stop people from regurgitating things I say word-for-word for brownie points when they can just find and reblog the fucking original post(s).

[morningmask27]

I feel like November will be a difficult month for me again and I'm not looking for it

[mayhemlovesenvy]

Happy birthday to the boy ever!!!!! Spring is the best character of this damn series btw if you didn't know

Goldtrap is also the best ship btw (they didn't even interact but that's because dedo is scared of success and gay people) If someone wants goldtrap propaganda just text me i have THOUGHTS

Full (not polaroid-ish?) And closeups under the cut:

Babies

[bl00dh0rs3]

God. God. God. Holy fucking shit i love Avatar so fucking much

[musical-chick-13]

Okay, no, sorry, I’m still mad about this. “Be critical of the media you consume and examine why you react to it in the way that you do, support marginalized and stigmatized identities.” Yeah, until it’s about mental illness.

A woman (or even man, if he’s deemed over-emotional) makes music about suffering from mental illness and people just go, “What are they complaining about, that’s so immature, hashtag wangst.” (And then, sometimes, inexplicably, if the mentally ill woman gets better and writes happier music, they then talk about how artistically bankrupt she is now and that she should go back to hating herself.) People LOVE cis white pRoBLeMaTiC (straight) fictional men until they are realistically mentally ill, in which case they’re “whiny” and “insufferable” and deserve to die violently, apparently (or, if fandom is merciful, they’re ignored). (And then they celebrate when they DO inevitably get killed off.) “Do your duty and watch [thing I, mc13, personally find insufferable] For The (white) Gays because it has Gays.” Sure, will you watch c4 Pure, the ONLY show specifically about OCD, then? (No, the answer is no, it’s always no.)

I can’t get anyone to watch Doom Patrol. I couldn’t get people (in general-I did convince a few irl friends thank GOD) to watch Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. One of the most popular and acclaimed shows right now has a character with schizophrenia who was turned into the Big Bad Villain for no fucking reason. One of the most commonly-cited examples of Iconic™ queer media involves a mentally ill man being broken over and over and over again before The Ship™ can reasonably happen. DW introduced a major character who was at one point suffering from mental illness in her past, AND THEN ALL MENTION OF THIS WAS COMPLETELY DROPPED IN THE FUTURE, WITH NO BEARING ON ANYTHING TO THE POINT WHERE I FORGOT IT EVEN EXISTED??!?!? R*tched was a thing that existed despite the Sad Sympathetic Backstory treatment being IN DIRECT CONTRADICTION OF WHAT PURPOSE THIS CHARACTER SERVED IN One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. THEY GAVE. A SAD WOOBIE VILLAIN TREATMENT. TO THE /LITERAL PERSONIFICATION/ OF ABLEISM. THAT IS HER FUNCTION. TO EXIST AS A SYMBOL OF ALL THE WAYS SOCIETY OPPRESSES THE DISABLED AND MENTALLY ILL.

I am!!! Literally!!!!! The only one!!!!!!!!! Complaining about these things!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE ONLY ONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No one else has said ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No one is talking about it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m so tired!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ozlices]

that squid game reality show genuinely & sincerely makes me so irrationally angry & the stupid ass takes surrounding it make it so much worse.

i actually sincerely cant handle it. it makes me so irate bruh

[ramenheim]

Fkn hate baby twitter lesbians what the fuck got put in their water that so many of them are terfs OOPS I mean radfems OOPS I mean exclus. 🙄😷

The recurrent vein of "Fuck Ace/Bi/Pan ppl it's THEIR FAULT *I* mislabelled myself as anything but LESBIAN" as if you aren't allowed to change labels & they're some sort of IMMUTABLE ASPECT OF YOUR BIRTH & not things you can change your mind on post-puberty, post-messy breakup, post-being in a dangerous situation, etc.

[faerieorbitars]

im afraid the madness is setting in for me again (started thinking abt my conceptual fantasy crossover ttrpg setting based on that map where somebody put moominvalley next to middle earth)

[whumpflash]

Shadow Puppet: Promises, Promises

cw: threats, talk of death, (fairly mild.)

He didn't know what he was running from.

It was dark, dark enough that he could hardly tell where he was going, branches cutting his hands, his face, as he pushed through the brush. He couldn't see, but he wasn't lost.

Peter knew the island too well to ever be truly lost.

He had to get to a clear spot. He had to find an area to take off, to fly, and maybe he could get away.

But get away from what?

It had started with a chill down his spine, a whisper that told every instinct to flee, and he did.

He knew the darker side of the neverland wasn't something to be taken lightly.

So he ran and ran and ran, though he heard no crashing through the trees behind him, though he saw no sign of an enemy. The presence, whatever it was, was after him, and he couldn't stop.

He made a sharp left, tumbling into a familiar clearing and taking to the air with a flying leap that turned into just plain flying.

Whatever it was, it couldn't follow him up here. Unless—

Something seized his ankle in a bruising grip, cold as ice, and he looked down and saw nothing but he still couldn't escape it.

Fae magic. It had to be.

He kicked at it, trying to shake loose, but the nothing wouldn't budge. And of course it wasn't just nothing, it was darkness. Shade. His mind raced, poring over his recent interactions with the fair folk. Had he done something to offend them? Likely. Fae were finicky creatures, easily upset over trivial matters.

After a brief internal debate, he let himself sink to the ground, into the icy embrace of his own shadow.

If the fae sought his attention, they'd get it eventually, one way or another. Best to have it over with. Try and talk his way out of it.

The darkness was quick to seize him, his shadow moving on its own, wrapping frozen arms around his torso and hauling him back into the treeline with enough force that he could barely form words.

"Enough. I'm going willingly, you—" the shadow squeezed him as if to shut him up. "Enough!"

But it didn't seem to hear. The cold of its grasp was starting to seep into him, making him shiver, but all he could do was wait for it to reach its destination.

Eventually they came to another clear spot in the woods, this one softly lit by luminescent mushrooms. Or moss. It was hard to tell which was providing the glow. The faint light silhouetted three tall figures. Peter failed to catch a glimpse of their faces before being thrown at their feet, but he already knew they were fae. He stood up, making a big show of dusting himself off despite shaking with cold, and faced his hosts.

"Well that was unnecessary, don't you think? What happened to an invitation?"

The one in the middle stepped further into the glow, a faerie he knew as Locust. The light made their face look ghoulish, and were he not busy making polite conversation, Peter might've laughed.

"You are undeserving of our hospitality, Pan," Locust said, using the name he'd given them.

Pan. The old god of the wilds. He'd thought it fitting, and besides, even a child would know to never give one's true name to a fae.

"And what have I done to… not deserve this?" Peter questioned, and Locust sighed in exasperation.

"You and your crew were the first humans to set foot on this island in centuries. Your men are satisfied with merely dwelling here, but you've sought boons from us."

That he had. Flight. Safe passage throughout the island, so he might explore. His boys were daring, but only a handful of them were bold enough to follow his lead. He wondered if the faeries had staged similar meetings with those few, or if he was special.

"And I am grateful for your kindness," he replied with an easy smile. "But I don't see what this has to do with–"

"You've taken our gifts, and yet you convene with the merfolk. So tell me, Pan, are you our friend, or our enemy?"

"Why your friend, of course," Peter replied. "I had to speak with the merfolk you see, as they've been convening with my enemy."

"And who is your enemy?"

"A pirate captain," Peter said, flourishing his hands. "He prowls the island's waters, hunting me and my band."

"And you consider him a threat? You cannot die, boy."

"It's a sort of game we play. One day we may yet kill one another," he said casually.

"A day I've yet to see in all my life," one of the faeries behind Locust muttered. "The island refuses to let go of those who've tasted its lifeblood."

"Quiet, Wisp." Locust looked down at Peter. "If you wish to stay a friend to our people, conspiring with the mer is out of the question."

"Oh you know I'd never conspire–"

"Speaking then."

"Mhm." Peter's smile grew thin. Rotten luck that someone had seen him leaving the cove at all. Why should the fae get any say in his comings and goings? "I take it you'll snatch your gifts right back if I were to–"

"What is given cannot be ungiven," Locust said with a scowl. "Which is unfortunate. But should it happen again, you will be punished."

Through his dismay, a bit of glee shone through. A punishment from a faerie! He wondered what sorts of oddities they could come up with. He'd heard stories; children forced to count every leaf in the forest, unable to sleep until their task was complete; mortals bound to an eternal dance.

Locust must've caught wind of this, as they stepped in closer. "And nothing so trivial as a hundred years serving in our halls. To take our gifts yet disregard our wishes is to spit in our face, to incur our wrath." They leaned down until their face was inches away from Peter's. "Say another word to a mer and I will break every bone in your body, Pan. That is a promise."

They didn't wait for a response, vanishing back into the shadows almost immediately, Wisp tight on their heels.

Breaking bones wasn't quite as whimsical as counting leaves, but it didn't seem too awful. After all, a sip from the fountain and he'd be good as new, and even if he did go back to the cove, who was to say he'd be caught?

"Pan," said a soft voice, and he looked up. The smallest of the trio was still standing there, another faerie he was familiar with.

"Bell," he replied. It was the name she'd given him. Who was to say if it was anything like her true name? Who was to say what any fae names were really like? That particular curiosity of his would take a great deal of trickery to satisfy, but he was sure he'd get there one day.

Bell was fond of him. At least as fond as a faerie could be for a human. She was the one who'd given him flight in the first place; after he'd charmed her with a story or two, all he'd had to do was ask nicely.

"You know Locust means it," Bell said. "They made a promise. Such a thing cannot be taken lightly."

"I know," Peter replied, if only to placate her. Sweet Bell, to worry for him when there was nothing to worry about.

"You don't. I know you, Pan. Heed their words. Stay away from the cove, or you will be found out, and Locust will make good on their promise."

"Alright, alright, I will."

He wasn't sure if she truly believed him, but she gave him a smile, then turned to follow the others into the shadows.

Peter supposed it was a little childish to have crossed his fingers behind his back when he could've simply lied, but the little trick made him feel like it didn't quite count for a lie. Maybe that mattered.

He oriented himself quickly and took to the sky. It was a clear night, stars speckling the dark blue. The Scarlet Merry was just visible on the horizon, and he thought briefly of paying James a visit. Dispel the nervous energy he'd acquired from the meeting with a friendly skirmish. 

But no, a warm fire and tall tales passed between him and his boys sounded far more inviting right now. Home it was.

As he flew, he was aware of his shadow, mirroring his movements far below. He tried to push that awareness down. To be followed by one's shadow was nothing new.

To be watched, however, was a different story.

tag list: (tagging the same group from Never. Feel free to PM me if you'd like to be removed! Planning on this being a three-parter, but we'll see where it goes)

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next part

@hold-back-on-the-comfort , @i-can-even-burn-salad , @whumpsday , @starlit-hopes-and-dreams , @rabbitdrabbles , @cyberneticwhump , @dream-whump , @apokolyps , @kixngiggles , @suspicious-whumping-egg , @chibichibivale , @itsdappleagain , @lelly-belly , @whumpy-catfish , @enteredin2eternity ,