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Me: indifferent to a large majority of dimitri ships
Me reading the dimilex end card: oh...oh what if I wrote a fic for them from the perspective of Dima's faceless wife
#let me be clear the mention of a queen at all#and ESPECIALLY that “felix's grief was more potent than hers at dimitri's passing”#is a flashing neon sign of lavender/political marriage#which would be so fun to explore#im rattling them#christina.txt#christina plays three houses#i got all my ships finally btw#FINALLY got my m.erciedue and a.shenette and y.urigrid
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HBEBEBEBEBEB UR WILLIAM DESIGN IS SO SILLYYYYY THAT SKRUNKLY OLD MAN IS GETTING THE CHAIR <3333
The worst man ever 💜
#ask reply#again I’m always glad when yall like my designs#WILLIAM is so fun to draw too#you guys have left a lot of nice comments and asks about his look!! which I appreciate!!#I always do try my best to make these characters semi accurate#but also visually distinct from one another#so im happy its working out#SO YEAH TY 💜💜💜#I gotta draw William more#promise I will in some serious comics#I do find him to be a very interesting character#it would be fun to explore all of that#let me cook let me cook 🔥🔥
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when people refer to canon story-relevant kingdom hearts games as ‘spinoffs’ it makes me sad not only for the obvious reasons i always say but also bc like man i WISH this series had spinoffs. imagine what they could do if they had permission from nomura to truly go off the rails and ignore the greater canon for a second and just do some fun whimsical plotless thing in an alternate universe. imagine a fishing/boating game on destiny islands. kh fighting game. it is an injustice that we have been deprived of kingdom karts. can anyone hear me
#in terms of alternate gameplay and lack of reliance on plot#i feel like melody of memory is the closest thing kh has actually had to a spinoff#but even that is important in its own way in the end#union cross to a certain degree as well what with being an online multiplayer gacha type game#its original concept i would definitely classify as a spinoff game#bc it was set in a totally different world and time period and was supposed to be about customization and fun with friends#and nomura or someone said it wasn’t meant to be connected to the plot#but then like. he did very much go and give it a plot. like he went back on that almost immediately#and even then. given that the game is still very much combat and exploration#even from the beginning can it really be called a spinoff? it’s just kh in a different format#i’m talking like a game in which the objective is something totally different.#racing game or cooking game or fighting game or (another) rhythm game#ace attorney style detective game. dancing game. dude i don’t know#there are so many different flavors they could go with here#alas nomura is allergic to genuine whimsy which is hilarious given that this is a disney series#like he apparently was like ‘ohhh should we really let sora in smash? would it make sense in the story?’#my brother in christ surely we’re not supposed to interpret this as canon to kh right? right????#i guess it’s just that the kh franchise has a very specific pristine vibe he wants to maintain#which is disney shenanigans as a seasoning on top of a main dish of Stone Cold Serious Anime Plot#kingdom hearts#kh#mine: kh
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gonna start explorers of sky again and blog about the tragedy about to unfold live on my twitter dot com 😁😁😁
#shuake#akeshu#p5 pmd au#persona 5#goro akechi#akira kurusu#pmd explorers#pmd eos#pmd#pmd2#pokemon mystery dungeon#pokemon mystery dungeon explorers of sky#why are there so many tags for this game#i really want to summon my childhood self and create little mini comics based on important story beats#there would be a lot of pokemon changes ……. but it would be so fun#and which character is which will also be great#LIKE IT JUST HIT ME WHO SHIDO IS IN THIS AU AND IM FUCKIGN SCREAMING THIS IS GONNA BE GREAT ACTUALLY YALL ARENT READY#persona 4 would be super. persona 3 would be rescue team btw#p2 prolly gates.#RIP p1 there’s only four games 🫡
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a nap in the sun
#pokemon#pkmn#oc#oc art#pokemon oc#trainer oc#orginal character#pokemon art#pokemon fanart#venusaur#pikachu#kanto au#oc: clementine#my art <3#artists on tumblr#digital art#thx u for all the kind comments on my last piece of oc art wahhh it makes me very happy!!!#i was originally gonna put them in virdian forest + make the piece darker but if a piece isn’t so saturated your eyes are burning i don’t#want it!!! lol // anyway!!! clem is the main focus of my … champion kids… au??? idk if au is a good word bc it’s just a part of#my personal hc/interpretation of gamecanon … just down the line yknow! last time i created an oc was my self insert sonic oc when i was a#whole child … 14 years ago actually which is insane to think about - but i finally (re)understand why yall would die for your oc’s cause#this is my bbg!!!😭🥺🍊🧡 this whole au is super fun for me - i really love exploring the idea of how the champions WE know would be as parents#& how they would navigate both the role as the most famous people in the pokemon world while simultaneously trying to raise a child with#some sense of normalcy? also how the kids perceive and KNOW their parents vs the perception the public has of them! clem is reds daughter#and i think his extremely complicated life and position in the spotlight would play a super interesting role how he raises a child -#especially a daughter!!! this is her taking a lil nap with both her parents pokemon!!! they’re definitely older now (evident by their#wrinkles lol) but they can still definitely beat any trainers ass but will also be available for their babysitting duties lol
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I forgot my tablet at home so lunch time today became pen and paper Baby Beast Council time!!!
#turns Beast Council Forgotten Land into the muppet babies show#these kids can hold so much childhood whimsy and adventure and shenanigans#I just think it would be nice if all of them knew each other really well :’)#I think Carol would be the most feral of all them. she digs in trash cans and explores ruined buildings#she’s has a lot of style and drama in canon. I bet she would be the one that introduces everyone else to the customs of the old world#creative and curious!#i think she would kickstart everyone’s evolution of the group to be more ‘human-like’#which is what makes them leaders as adults??#I mean the humans/ancients are the ones that managed to leave this place…. they must’ve been onto something! let’s study them#don’t mind me I have a lot more of this in my head hahaha#it’ll tie into the roleswap too. we’re gonna have fun#kirby series#beast pack#kirby and the forgotten land#art#clawroline#leongar#sillydillo#Gorimondo#Fleurina
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a star being appeared in your apartment, wdyd?
(aka loop getting reverse isekaied into the modern office au)
also there are some scattered mumblings on loop in this AU under the cut actually in an rb now link right here if anyone's interested (spoilers for all of ISAT, including 2hats!)
#in stars and time#isat#isat spoilers#in the rambles but technically on this own this doesnt really have spoilers lol (this tag was added later)#isat siffrin#isat loop#yea loop is cursing but it is censored with stars#since i thought it would be a little bit funny#if i keep drawing for this AU i should prob come up with a better name than “modern office AU” LOL#which will prob be the case since i have a couple more silly ideas in my back pocket#and other characterizations for others i want to explore a lil#but i also have other ISAT drawings i want to get to so it might be a bit before i get through all that ASDFASDAS#also i will gladly take additional suggestions for doodles#since those are always fun!!!#i could prob mumble on about various thoughts for the others in this AU but like#right now everything is still a bunch of mildly incoherent headcanons in a trenchcoat with a very vague plot#and i am very much not a writer cuz words are hard!!!!#but at the end of the day this AU will mainly be silly office shenanigans#with a bit of character spice for flavor every once in a while LMAO#okay tag talk over oops#reverse entry au#reverse isekai loop au
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girl help I started writing down oc thoughts and have started contemplating the logistics of how a city carved into the walls of a ravine would have access to fresh water
#rye.txt#MaVst#'you should do some worldbuilding' I said to myself#'it'll be easy' i said#'just write down the little thoughts you've had floating around'#I AM A FOOL#there are so many bullet points in this fuckign document#and they're all devoted to the minutiae of how the city I have in my mind would function#how the very terrain would influence the culture#couldn't just do a normal city on flat terrain noooo I had to include homes carved into rock#anyway im pretending im upset but this is so much fun#I loveee getting to think about how tiny details all affect each other and influence the greater whole#it's like problem solving but I get to make the solutions as fun and fantastical as I want#if my ocs are my silly little dolls to play pretend with#then the worldbuilding is like getting to build the doll house#which is just as fun imo#anyway im gonna give the capital city an abandoned under-city that's no longer habitable now that the original royal family is#no longer in power#it used to be lit with the light magic of the ruler that was amplified by the crown#but now it's almost impossible to navigate and so big that your torch is liable to burn out before you can explore much at all#and without a light source it's completely pitch black darkness#<- see stuff like this is so fun to think about and I can just slap it onto my world because it's cool
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So we know that Wei Wuxian's treatment after his death was horrible. Even if nothing could impact him directly, there was still neverending slander, hatred, misinformation, theft...
But, for a while after he died, the sects did try to impact him directly – namely, frequently trying to resummon his soul. And today I'll explore the possible reasons for this, their likelihoods, and why I'm so, so thankful that Wei Wuxian's soul managed to resist the summons. Because, spoiler alert (or, you know. maybe not)... none of them are good.
(Long meta ahead)
In my opinion, there are four likely motivations for this: confinement, coercion, torment, and potentially destruction.
Out of all of these, confinement is probably the most likely motivation, at least for most sects (Jins and Jiangs excluded, though it was likely what the Jin sect said their motivations were – but I'll get to them later). This one is the most simple – we know spirit-trapping pouches exist, and we know the sects also placed 120 stone beasts on the Burial Mounds to prevent Wei Wuxian's soul from escaping. Therefore, this seems to be the most likely motivation – and fortunately for Wei Wuxian, probably also the best case scenario, though it still certainly isn't a good one.
For the second, coercion – this is where the Jin sect come in (more specifically Jin Guangshan with the help of Jin Guangyao). Due to their wealth and resources, they're likely the sect who played the largest role in the soul-summoning rituals. We know what they're willing to do to try to gain power – keeping Wen Ning under the pretence he was burned to death and trying to control him with the nails, and working with and helping Xue Yang torture people to help him refine his demonic cultivation, in order to have the Yin hufu fixed. Along with working with many other cultivators, alongside Xue Yang – Jin Guangshan really, really wanted that seal.
And so, Jin GuangShan sought after all those who imitated Wei WuXian in cultivating the ghostly path and gathered them under his rule. He spent a great amount of money and resources and these people, ordering them to study and analyze the structure of the Tiger Seal in secrecy so that they could replicate and restore it. - Villainous Friends extra, EXR
(Note that working with these cultivators very likely happened after Wei Wuxian's soul had failed to be summoned, since this happens some time after Wei Wuxian's death, whereas the soul-summoning ceromonies presumably started happening very close to it.)
In the previous paragraph, he's also quoted as having 'lusted after' the Yin hufu, which we already knew but it's nice to have a direct quote as evidence.
Now, would Wei WuXian willingly work with the Jin sect in doing this? No. We know that, and, given Wei Wuxian's actions in his first life (refusing to hand over the Tally, not being afraid to stand up to the sects, etc), I’m pretty sure Jin Guangshan knows that, too:
He beat around the bush a couple of times, using all his skills, yet Wei WuXian didn’t give in no matter what, and it made him run into a bunch of obstacles. - Villainous Friends extra, EXR
So this could actually make things go two ways. One, I'm wrong and that wasn't actually part of the Jin sect's motivations, since they know they wouldn't be able to control him (and in that case, had they managed to summon him, I could imagine them putting him in a spirit-trapping pouch and doing something similar to what Jin Guangyao did to Nie Mingjue's head. Which, also, not good). Two, it was a part of their motivations, and they hoped to find a way around that. After all, there are other guidao users out there now, and Wei Wuxian would now be a gui*. Also, cultivators can obviously harm ghosts – see the very existence of Night Hunts, and I'd include Xue Yang's talisman-caused destruction of A-Qing as well (while he isn't a traditional cultivator, talismans can be used by everyone).
Now, would either of these methods actually work? I'm inclined to think not really (and I expand on the former method in a note below). Would that stop Jin Guangshan/Jin Guangyao/the cultivators they employ from trying? Especially considering Jin Guangshan's lust for power?
I'm inclined to think no, too.
For the third, look no further than Jiang Cheng's reputation of capturing and torturing demonic cultivators after Wei Wuxian's death, due to thinking they could be him. And this does happen – Jin Ling knows and talks about it, and there's not real motivation for him to negatively lie about someone he loves. Also, when they come across each other at Dafan Mountain, we're told this in Jiang Cheng's inner voice:
A moment ago, Jiang Cheng was certain that this person was Wei WuXian, and all of the blood in his body started to boil. Yet, now, Zidian was clearly telling him that he wasn’t. Zidian definitely wouldn’t deceive him or make a mistake, so he quickly calmed himself and thought, this doesn’t mean anything. I should first find an excuse to take him back and use every possible method to get information out of him. It’s impossible for him to not confess anything or give himself away. I’ve done things like this in the past anyways. - MDZS Chapter 10, EXR translation
This mainly shows that he's tortured people before, rather than that he's tortured people because he thinks they're Wei Wuxian, but this reason is confirmed by Jin Ling in Chapter 24. Of course, the reason is also mentioned in this chapter, and there are other moments in the chapter that illustrate my point better**, but they come from second-hand sources which I know are easier to deny. Do take note of Jiang Cheng's expression both times he comes across 'Mo Xuanyu' (after he suspects he's Wei Wuxian) in Book One***, though:
After a moment, the corners of Jiang Cheng’s lips pulled into a twisted smile. His left hand started to unconsciously stroke the ring [Zidian] again. He spoke softly, “… Well, well. So you’re back?” - Chapter 10, EXR Although his face had always been clouded, marked with arrogance and satire, it seemed as if every corner of it had come alive. It was difficult to determine whether it was vengeful wrath, fathomless hatred, or raving ecstasy. - Chapter 23, EXR
This does seem to line up with what people say his attitude to Wei Wuxian is – there doesn't seem to be any happiness at seeing him again at all. The only time a word that could suggest that ('ecstasy') is used, it's accompanied by 'raving', and considering the context and the other possibilities of his expression, it's... probably not due to happiness at being reunited.
So, considering 1) this, 2) his contribution to the Siege specifically intended to kill Wei Wuxian, and 3) that at the time of frequent soul-summoning Jiang Yanli's death would be even closer for him, I feel pretty confident in saying that yes, this is likely a motivation for the Jiang sect in trying to re-summon Wei Wuxian's soul after his death. And, as mentioned earlier, cultivators can harm ghosts (and we know Zidian is able to remove souls posessing a body from that body, and that Jiang Cheng used Zidian on 'Mo Xuanyu' in Chapter 10. If it wasn't able to restrain/harm ghosts, or other methods weren't able to, why would he risk Wei Wuxian's soul escaping?).
And finally, option four: destruction. We're heading into much more speculative territory here, so don't consider this on par with the first three. But consider this:
We know there are some spells, like Xue Yang's talisman used on A-Qing and the body-offering ritual, that can ruin the returning soul’s reincarnation cycle by destroying it. Therefore, soul destruction is possible.
The 'main'/supposed reason for summoning Wei Wuxian's soul back is to stop the "cultivation world, or even all of mortal land" from being "faced with the most insane damnation and revenge, sinking into nothing but chaos and despair" when Wei Wuxian inevitably returns. While, as mentioned above, I severely doubt this is the motivation for certain sects – and to me is likely a rumour which the Jins (again, especially Jin Guangsha) fanned the flames of to justify summoning Wei Wuxian back for their own purposes**** – there are other sects which would take it more seriously.
Although likely disrespectful, people already thought it served Wei Wuxian right to die without his body intact by the time of the second siege – something believed to negatively affect your reincarnation in your next life*****. This is only the logical next step, and I'm pretty sure the vast majority of people would believe that, again, it would serve Wei Wuxian right, or would at least lead to less harm of the world in the long run.
For these reasons, I could definitely see this as an option for some sects, especially the sects who consider themselves more 'righteous' (cough cough the Nies under Nie Mingjue cough cough). After all, evil is evil and good is good, and the evil deserve what's coming to them. And what better way to prevent that than from preventing his soul from returning at all? So for the Nie sect – and likely some of the smaller sects involved in the Siege, since among them, additudes probably vary – yes, I do think it could be a motivation.
I’m not as sure about the Lans being willing to go this far, and that’s largely for two reasons. One, Lan Wangji’s presence and his relationship to Lan Xichen, who does (not always, but he does) let this affect how he treats Wei Wuxian. An example of this is that, when Wei Wuxian's return is made public, Lan Xichen does let him hide and shelter at the Cloud Recesses instead of trying to pursue him, likely majorly due to Lan Wangji. I'd argue that the aftermath of the Nightless City also acts as an example of this, although it definitely isn't perfect. But though he, Lan Qiren and the 33 elders do come to find Lan Wangji and do not let him continue to shelter Wei Wuxian (after they see Lan Wangji's feelings), Lan Xichen doesn't use this opportunity to kill/capture Wei Wuxian, despite Lan Wangji being in a worse condition due to having fought 33 elders, Wei Wuxian being catatonic, and Lan Qiren likely supporting this outcome (especially considering he was the one who led the Lan sect in the Siege – chapter 68, Wei Wuxian's POV). And he did let Lan Wangji take Wei Wuxian back to the Burial Mounds after:
After he went out of his way to send you back to Burial Mound and returned in such low spirits to receive his punishment, how long he kneeled before the Wall of Rules! - Chapter 99, EXR
Again, this was right after the Nightless City massacre – there isn't any goodwill towards Wei Wuxian at this point in time.
Of course, the Lan sect did participate in the siege after Lan Xichen knew of Lan Wangji's feelings towards Wei Wuxian, which Lan Xichen was no doubt a part of (although Lan Qiren lead the Lan sect in the siege, Lan XIchen had to have at least known/given his support, if not participated.) And it should be considered that Lan Xichen letting Wei Wuxian shelter at the Cloud Recesses was after Wei Wuxian had been back for a while, and had not caused the downfall of the Cultivation World, like many suspected he would after his death. And of course, as stated previously, his handling of the aftermath of Nightless City wasn't perfect either (though please note that his main motive here was to protect Lan Wangji from being potentially executed, rather than anything about Wei Wuxian himself). So caring about Lan Wangji doesn't mean he won't harm Wei Wuxian. But I do think he could find bringing Wei Wuxian's soul back to completely destroy it a bit excessive. There is, though, the chance that the elders of the Lan Sect would react to this differently, and of course they would have a sway on both Lan Xichen and the Lan sect as well.
The second reason is smaller, but there seems to be more focus in the Lan sect than in others when it comes to letting ghosts rest peacefully/helping them move on. And that could definitely lead to more resistance to the idea of summoning a soul back to destroy it as well, which could especially impact the elders. So I'd assume that the Lan sect would be the most likely sect to summon Wei Wuxian's soul back just for confinement, or just for some way of making sure any resentment is disippated, his spirit moves on, and he can't cause more harm to the world (eg via Inquiry)******. Not that he would or does as a ghost or as a reborn person, but that's unfortunately not relevant to this.
But yes, as a motivation for the Nie Mingjue-led Nie sect? Absolutely.
So, these are the main motives I suspect to be behind the attempted summoning of Wei Wuxian's soul after his death (and if I've missed any, please let me know – I'd love to have a discussion). And, of course, none of them lead to anywhere good. Because of course it wasn’t enough to besiege Wei Wuxian, murder the 50 non-combatants he was responsible for (and throwing them into the blood pit as a mark of disrespect because why not?), and lead to his death via him getting torn apart. It wasn’t enough to steal all his inventions, and use them commonly while still slandering him with no reprieve – or to steal his notes and give them to people like Xue Yang to study (Villainous Friends, again) and to use for their own, extremely extremely harmful, purposes. Of course, the cultivation world has to try to harm Wei Wuxian after death as well ((:
We don't know whether Wei Wuxian rejecting the summoning ceremonies was conscious or unconscious, but if it was the former, these are very likely reasons he refused to return in this way. If it was unconscious – for example, maybe during the frequent soul-summons his soul was in a weakened state due to him dying from a backlash of resentful energy and getting torn apart, and it healed over time but not before the soul-summoning rituals stopped – well, I can only be thankful.
Finally, let me leave you on the thought that – although it may well have happened since we don't spend much time in the immediate aftermath of the Sunshot campaign – there isn't even any textual mention of this happening to Wen Ruohan. Who, while not being a guidao user, was still very dangerous, still an extremely powerful cultivator, and still had a lot of reason to feel resentment. So.
:')
Thank you for reading!
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*Considering what we see of how Wei Wuxian's guidao functions – redirecting the ghosts'/corpses' resentment into doing something they'd want to do, eg attacking people, and directing it towards a target – I'm not sure using it to force a spirit to do something 1) extremely specific, and 2) explicitly against their will would actually work. Iirc the closest thing we get to this in text is Wei Wuxian using the corpses of Wens to attack other Wens in the Sunshot Campaign, but he's still just directing their resentment to a target of his choice, and fierce corpses do tend to be on the less concious side of things (hence why Wei Wuxian had to awaken Wen Ning's consciousness). Considering how Wen Ning attacks Wei Wuxian and the Burial Mound Wens before his consciousness had fully awoken, I... really don't think those fierce corpses were able to differentiate (or didn't care).
Meanwhile, ghosts seem to be a bit more in control of themselves – see A-Qing, and Wei Wuxian's own descriptions of his ghost self.
That, alongside ghost!Wei Wuxian being able to resist his soul-summoning and the fact that pretty much all of the new guidao users are a lot weaker than he was, does make me think that this this wouldn't work. I do wonder about Xue Yang, since his methods are pretty different as well, but he's more of a modao user than a guidao user (he controls living corpses rather than dead people) and I don't think you can insert physical nails into ghosts?? Though if he was specifically instructed to figure out some way to control ghost!Wei Wuxian (who's probably kept in a spirit-trapping pouch in this scenario), he might be able to do something at least. Though also he was also struggling to piece Xiao Xingchen's ghost soul back together, so he may struggle with those areas?
Well, whatever the potential outcome, I'm so so happy once again that Wei Wuxian's soul managed to resist the soul-summonings...
**Mainly this:
Everyone in the cultivation world knew that the young leader of the Jiang Clan watched out for Wei WuXian in an almost crazed manner. He would rather catch the wrong person than let go of any possibility, and took anyone who seemed like they held the soul of Wei WuXian away to the YunmengJiang Sect, inflicting severe torture on his victim. If he wanted to take someone back, the opposition would surely lose half of their life. - Chapter 10, EXR
But I have heard people say 'you can't prove that it's just more rumours' before, and I wanted my evidence to be as watertight as possible.
(And, off-topic... isn't it really sad how Jiang Cheng, in the present day, is described as young? Because, for a clan leader, he is. And another thing he is, is close in age to Wei Wuxian – who was killed 13 whole years prior :') )
***And do note that the only other time they run into each other before Wei Wuxian's identity is revealed to the world apart from this is their brief interaction at Jinlintai, where he can't just act however he wants. The next time they run into each other after it, Jiang Cheng is literally taking part in another siege against him, and still extremely hostile ("surrounded by hostile energy, face insidious, staring straight at him" – from EXR chapter 60). Then he loses his spiritual powers and can't do anything. By the time he regains his powers, Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and the Wen remnants' corpses have saved everyone during the Second Siege, and though public opinion hasn't properly shifted quite yet, it will soon after Sisi and Bicao tell the story of Jin Guangyao, and voila, a new scapegoat (do note that he doesn't completely bar Wei Wuxian from entering Lotus Pier after the Second Siege, though). Plus, throughout it all, Lan Wangji is still constantly present, which makes it hard for Jiang Cheng to really do anything. And then he's finally faced with the Golden Core reveal, which does alter his motivations towards Wei Wuxian (obviously the resentment is still there – read chapter 102 – but it's also mixed with other complex emotions, and he seems to start being able to move away from that a little in Chapter 103). I still definitely wouldn't describe Jiang Cheng's attitude towards him as positive, but it isn't at the point it was at the start of the novel (eg Chapter 10).
But even if his attitude does change, or would for whatever other reason apart from the reveal, that still doesn't change an initial motivation so isn't relevant to this meta. We know his intentions at the start.
****It's also possible they may have originated it, but I think WWX's reputation was bad enough for it to form naturally. Though you can trace a major part of that back to them, too.
*****That belief isn't outright stated in MDZS, but the fact people are specifically talking about the status of WWX's body in the aftermath of his death suggests that this belief does have some grounding in the MDZS universe, at least? And we know MXTX has included it in TGCF (though that doesn't mean it's definitely in MDZS), so she has used it in her works. If this isn't the case in the MDZS universe I am sorry (although that could also mean there's less importance placed on not disturbing the reincarnation cycle in the world of MDZS...? Which would work towards my original argument) – I don't want to spread misinformation that something is definitely true, I just think there's evidence to suggest it is true, which isn't the same thing.
******Again, I think this would depend on who ends up having more influence over who in the Lan sect. After all, normal resentful spirits only do what they do because of their resentment in death, whereas Wei Wuxian is 'dangerous' because of who everyone thinks he was in life – so him being reborn naturally could also 'cause a lot of harm to the world' during the time period this version of him would live in, unlike the resentful ghosts they appease. This could definitely lead to many advocating for confinement, I think.
#writing this takes me back to my nie huaisang one#'detective metas' i'd call both of them#as opposed to analysis of characters or themes#it may be less 'meaningful' but it's still fun to explore and speculate within a world you love#...albeit maybe not for this one because. mdzs jianghu when i get my hands on you-#also i fully acknowledge i may be wrong#but again i'd love to have discussions about these! debates and knowledge exchange are what leads to better understanding of source materia#which is a major goal of mine in writing these#mdzs meta#my meta#wei wuxian#mdzs cultivation world#long post#mo dao zu shi#gdc#grandmaster of demonic cultivation#魔道祖师#mxtx#detective meta#<– if i ever make this a tag#also i feel like you could write a fic (angsty or not so angsty depending on where you go with it) where the lan sect somehow-#-summons ghost!wwx back (not sure how bc the jin and jiang sects would probably want 'custody' of him more - and i don't think summoning-#-rituals are done by just one sect at a time? but imagine it happens) and idk he's kept in a spirit-trapping pouch or sth#lwj probably isn't told bc of what happened after nightless city - elders can't really trust him in matters to do with wwx#but maybe lxc feels bad for him or sth (especially bc he's mourning him and stuff + what happened after he found out wwx was dead)#and tells him and maybe brings wwx's soul to him for a bit so wwx can respond to inquiry#and they talk and obv. wwx is NOT happy with the situation (both rn and yk bc of the VERY RECENT SIEGE)#but but but! the thing that would stop this being completely depressing is that LWJ HAS A-YUAN SO WWX FINDS OUT HE SURVIVED#also lwj's injuries would likely come up at SOME point which would lead to wwx finding out abt nightless city afermath#AA NOO THE TAGS WENT ON FOR SO MUCH LONGER BUT I GUESS TUMBLR DOESN'T ALLOW SO MANY i'll have to make another post...
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i don’t know if i’m ever gonna write the fic but i’ve been thinking abt like. the eternal stockade. the implications. lup, a lich who was trapped in a dark featureless cell for a decade completely isolated with nothing to keep her sanity but her own mind. she has to put people in the eternal stockade. how many liches does she see herself in. how many liches started out just like her. how many liches are truly too far gone. and the only liches we ever see other than her and barry are edward and lydia. they’re certainly evil, but mad? they seem pretty sane. they’re not, like, tattered echoes of souls, they’re definitely still people. even as much of a grudge as lup surely has against them, wouldn’t they remind her incredibly strongly of herself? do they deserve to be trapped just like she was? for eternity? isn’t eternity what turned john to existential despair in the first place?
#mine#taz balance#taz lup#lup#like idk i think lup’s down to kick necromancer ass but when it comes to being like. WARDENS of a PRISON. would that not be uncomfortable??#but like taking the job is the only way to avoid HER being thrown in prison??#idk the raven queen being a cool & chill goddess boss is definitely fun but when you actually think abt it#i don’t think i’d agree with her. i think if i lived in that world i’d think she were sort of evil#which like also to get into the hunger vs authority its not very explored because its not at all the point#the hunger is meant to be nihilism and despair and dissatisfaction its at its core an emotional story about joy & love#but like john starts out rebelling against laws. laws of the universe; except that it turns out a being wrote those laws (jeffandrew)#so the hunger is also sort of a force of rebelling against unjust constraints in the pursuit of freedom?#and the heroes end up preserving the status quo and saying you just have to find joy within those unjust limitations#which again. like. the point is that life is unfair and you can find joy and meaning despite it. which is true to real life.#i’m not saying the hunger was right or that despair is the only way or w/e like#yk like taz balance is not a story about society its more about. philosophy i guess#the point is that life’s really hard and you find meaning anyway and that’s preferable to despair and death#thematically for the audience we understand these are standins for ways of viewing reality#and in the real world reality is what it is. its just the world. there’s no authority that writes the laws of nature#like its not a ‘man vs authority’ story its a ‘man vs nature’ story#but IN UNIVERSE nature IS an authority. jeffandrew and the gods. regardless of how much joy you can find in an unjust world#if i lived in it i’d want to make it more just! but anyway like yeah barry & lup working for the raven queen#is kinda an extension on that idea of preserving the status quo#although i guess you could say gods are just forces of nature. theyre not PEOPLE theyre just personifications of existent natural laws#and it ties in w istus and fate as well#although fate is like a comforting guiding force rather than restricting & horrifying#^ pay no attention to any of this i don’t think it really means anything i’m just like. writing thoughts as i have them#not like a hard stance i’m taking just exploring some ideas#any ways#THERES A TAG LIMIT??
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there are all of 6 fics on ao3 that come up when you search the word “disabled” in the dead boy detectives fandom. I’m dealing with a fibromyalgia flare up rn so I’ve decided to come up with some (potential!) disability/condition/syndrome/etc. headcanons. enjoy!
(oh and just to note: I stayed away from conditions with obvious facial / appearance difference as no actors with facial / appearance difference were cast in the show and I was unsure if it would be appropriate. while I have experience with a lot of the following diagnoses, I do not claim to be an expert on any of them and do not intend for this to be used as a diagnostic tool. if you feel any of these are offensive/inappropriate, please message me and I’m happy to talk about it :) this is more just to encourage broader disability representation within the fandom!)
Edwin: autistic, PTSD (from hell), chronic pain/fibromyalgia (from his death/hell), minor visual impairment (not enough to need the hard-to-come-by testing needed for glasses when he was alive and so assumed the various limits/effects were normal. was told otherwise by Niko), would’ve had shingles if lived long enough
Charles: ADHD, PTSD (from his father/growing up in an abusive household), dyslexia, Reynaud’s syndrome (either already born with it or as a result of his death—both angsty), was in the beginning stages of an ED prior to his death, post-concussion syndrome, near-sightedness (never given glasses bc he wasn’t about to tell his dad the board looked a little blurry sometimes)
Crystal: cPTSD (reminder that neglect is also abuse :), bipolar 1, IBS, endometriosis
Niko: autism, depression, POTS, hEDS, anxiety, sprite-induced agoraphobia, epilepsy, lactose intolerance
Monty: Depersonalization-derealization disorder, selective amnesia (this is not the first times Esther has messed with his form/killed and revived him, but the experience is traumatic and so his brain decides not to remember it), recurrent arrhythmia, synesthesia
Jenny: OCD, BPD, ED recovered, Celiac’s disease, diabetes type 1, anemia
TCK: autism, NPD, lactose intolerance, colourblind
Esther: chronic pain (I’m choosing to believe that the cane isn’t just for show!!), NPD, endometriosis
Tragic Mick: cPTSD, depression, HoH, arthritis, diabetes
(The Night Nurse , the Dandelion Sprites, and various other characters felt either too supernatural and/or not developed enough to assign anything to lmao)
#maybe I’ll give edwin fibromyalgia to project on him again#also just to be clear none of this is meant to demonise or speak poorly on any of these conditions !!!#ppl are just varied and have varied bodies and I think it’s fun to explore that with fictional characters :)#lmk which you agree/don’t agree with !!!#also while I don’t see most of the characters as deaf/HoH I do think Charles and Niko have the potential to be CODA(s?)#like I think Charles’s mom and Niko’s dad could’ve been deaf/HoH#granted idk if Charles would know any BSL bc of his father#but I think Niko would know JSL!#she loses her dad and then has no one to use it with :((((#like her mom maybe stops signing or was never great at signing with her husband’s death#and Niko’s father’s friends don’t really hang around even before she’s sent to the states yk#let the record show I was very tempted to give Edwin all sorts of chronic shit that was popular at the turn of the century#but like polio felt a bit too far#TCK is based on how cats are ofc#I think Crystal having manic episodes and having to come to terms with the fact that it doesn’t make her a bad person would be interesting#also Monty is roughly based on how crows be but like how it would translate wrong if that makes sense#like crows can see more colors than humans so I think that screws with his senses in human form => synesthesia#you could give most of them here ptsd just from the events of the show but that felt too repetitive so I kept it to pre show traumas#lmk what yall think#dead boy detectives#dbda#edwin payne#charles rowland#crystal palace#niko sasaki#monty the crow#jenny the butcher#esther finch#the cat king#tragic mick
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🧡 My full piece for PrisMagic by @dotzines starring my OC girlie as a magical girl
#my art#zine stuff#oc tag#magical girl oc#pmmm oc#digital painting#original character#so! I don't have lots figured out for her but there are some fun character facts#I struggled having her soul gem on her back to show on the reflection but had to give up on that idea#she has a buttefly theme going on so I thought the glass cases would be a nice symbolic backdrop with her breaking out of one#I don't feel that was the best way to explore that concept the priority of this composition ended up being showing off her outfit more than#anything which is fair enoughh#wish vaguely hinted at by the symbolic bg ™️ I'll leave it open for interpretation
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*Skitters up to you on all fours and drops this in your lap, then scrambles up the walls and onto the ceiling and immediately falls asleep*
Comic time! Lucky wakes up in the middle of the night and has a chat with Sen in this one.
#ah yes. the struggle of seeing yourself as a machine incapable of truly having an emotional connection with others#no matter how deeply you long for such things#whilst simultaneously seeing that deep longing within you as a mistake. a flaw. an imperfection#you were made to be absolute and impartial#to be biased in favor of your charges beyond that which your ‘programming’ dictates is shameful#you are broken. you are flawed. you want and you want and you want and you’ve never stopped /wanting./#you aren’t supposed to worry or care or love. you weren’t made for it.#and if you were not made for it then you simply cannot worry or care or love.#these /things/ that haunt you and make you inefficient are not emotions.#they are your imperfections; flaws in your make; symbols of your failures to live up to your purpose#you are broken. you are flawed. and you want so deeply that you can scarcely keep the longing inside you#such a failure you are; to not only survive the fall of the metropolis you were built to give your life to defend#but also to stoop to and revel in such indulgent imperfections as these false emotions the moment your makers are gone to dust#Fun Fact! Sen doesn’t require sleep#and spends every evening standing outside of Sharpedo Bluff / whatever campsite the gang have set up to guard the entrance.#she doesn't stay inside at night because it wasn't something done in the metropolis she hails from.#sentries are meant to watch over their charges. they are not meant to indulge in the pleasant and dry warmth of their homes.#Kip hears about this eventually (he thought it was just Sen not trusting people enough to sleep around them) and FLIPS OUT#“PLEASE would you come inside IT'S LITERALLY HAILING”#Sen is taking so much hail damage and has the gall to look at him and say “You should return to your home. the weather is unfavorable”#Kip just screams into his hands because he might have found someone even worse at self-care than Twig#And with that#it is beddy-bye time for Sofie :)#the present is a gift au#pmd oc#pmd ocs#pokemon mystery dungeon#pokémon mystery dungeon#pmd explorers#pmd eos
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2024 reads / storygraph
Don’t Let The Forest In
YA horror
an anxious Australian boy whose only friends are his twin sister & best friend/roommate returns to boarding school in the US - but his sister is ignoring him, and his friend is acting strange, with rumors of having something to do with his parents’ murder
he follows him into the nearby forest one night - and finds him fighting eldritch monsters from the dark fairytales & art they create together, desperate to stop them from hurting anyone else
ace MC, m/m
#Don’t Let The Forest In#aroaessidhe 2024 reads#asexual books#i mean not to be influenced by a book’s cover to love it immediately but like#yeah pretty made for me. i thought this was great.#dark forest fairytale vibes & horror based around the exploration of (not) processing trauma#and some messy gay codependant yearning (and beginnings of some nice friendships)#there were a few directions I was worried the plot was going to go in at certain points which would have dampened my enjoyment#but it bypassed those thankfully#i really wanted to see his relationship with his sister because we didn’t see much of that#but I also got the impression there was a reason for that and it would be addressed eventually….which it is.#Maybe the ending is a little rushed? I would have loved to have more of it.#“he could cut me to bloody pieces if he wanted. i couldn’t stop him even if i tried” bitch you’re in high school. it’s not that dramatic#(kidding I love that kind of prose and messy codependency is fun to read)#also there’s a trope I dislike in other books where an ace character is all self hating about it#then another person is like it’s ok to be ace :) and then they’re suddenly proud and happy.#and this Could have done that but I think it explores his feelings about accepting his asexuality with more nuance so that’s nice
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In Saecula Saeculorum
My contribution for @inklings-challenge 2024! Content warning for death and injury
Playlist link (I HIGHLY recommend listening along I spent like four collective hours on this thing I'm super proud. I am, however, adding which songs are best listened to at which points. They will be the bold italicized captions at the beginning of different sections. All the songs mentioned can be found on the playlist! (also, when you finish Afraid Of Time, just listen to the rest of the playlist straight through. It should line up well enough!))
~Time~
When Stephen Reid was nineteen, he almost got hit by a truck while trying to cross the street. A young woman a few years older than him yanked him back onto the sidewalk as the massive garbage truck barreled past, seemingly unaware that it had almost caused his demise.
Stephen steadied his breathing, heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat, then turned to thank the young woman who’d saved him. His mother had drilled good manners into him from a young age, and she’d have scolded him soundly for wandering into the street without looking first, let alone not thanking the person who’d saved him.
But she’d already started moving down the sidewalk, shoulders hunched in her green jacket, her hair (the tips of which were dyed an electric blue) brushing her shoulders as she moved. She was hunched over her cupped hands, whispering to something she was holding, and Stephen frowned. Strange way to hold your phone.
But there were more pressing things on Stephen’s mind. Namely, the fact that the world was tearing itself apart.
When he was little, things were so simple. It wasn’t just that he was a kid—Stephen remembered things had been happy, peaceful. He remembered summers spent digging holes in his backyard with his friends and raking leaves in the autumn. His mother and father had been happy, and life had been good.
As he got older, he saw the little ways things weren’t so good. The strain his father’s job put on him, the leaner times. But his family was still happy.
And then he turned eighteen. And things got really bad. Countries baying for each other’s blood, corrupt leaders turning their backs and doing nothing to help. Every day, the news showed more horrors. Every day, things got worse, and war was on the way. And Stephen knew he couldn’t just sit by and watch. His mother had taught him manners, common sense, and how to be fierce when it was needed. And his father had taught him that if you could help, you did help, and to care even when it was hard.
So that was what Stephen planned to do. In every way possible.
He’d started out with volunteering as he started college classes. There were even more people living on the streets now than ever, and helping make meals at shelters was a step toward helping them.
But then things took an abrupt turn for the worse. And suddenly, they were at war. And Stephen found himself dropping out of school to enlist.
He was twenty when he saw his first dead body—a woman on the side of the road. Face pale, limbs at unnatural angles, blood still staining the front of her shirt. It was an image that didn’t leave his mind for a long, long time.
Two months later he killed someone for the first time. He tried not to remember that. But it wasn’t the last time. Every time he took a life, he found himself mourning, for what the world had come to, for the life that he’d ended.
Stephen may have known the reasons for what he was doing. But that didn’t make it hurt any less, or stop him from wondering if there was a better way he could help.
At twenty-two, he was shot in the line of duty.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been injured. But it was the first time it had been serious enough to warrant being sent to a hospital for a prolonged stay. And as it turned out, it was serious enough that he was discharged from the army. The bullet had shattered bones in his leg, leaving him with a serious limp and pain that never fully went away.
It was strange. One minute he was fighting for his life, the next he was home. Like nothing had changed, like he was supposed to pick up where he left off. Stephen found himself adrift, unsure of his next step. He went back to school, but his old major didn’t seem to fit anymore. Nothing did.
He was twenty-two and a half when one of his classmates dragged him to their local church. Howard was stubborn and usually said exactly what was on his mind, without thought toward how he’d affect others. It was an odd combination of refreshing and very irritating.
And yet, in that sanctuary, Stephen had never seen Howard light up the way he did when the singing started. And listening to the words, he started to understand why.
He’d gone to church growing up, and it had been fine. But this was different. This was something beautiful rediscovered, and he cherished it. Soaked in every word spoken from the front. It was like water after years in the desert, healing after pain for so long. It brought peace he hadn’t known could exist.
Stephen was twenty-three when he changed his major. Not to a pastor, though Howard joked that he might as well, with all the Bible reading and questions. But to a counselor. Someone who could guide others through what he’d gone through, and worse. Someone who could help.
It was a refreshing of his original purpose, a rewriting of his story. It was the right thing to do, and that was all he’d ever wanted.
When he was twenty-seven, he started on an internship. And that was where he met Marian.
She was an astrophysicist, and while Stephen admittedly didn’t understand a lot of what she did, he liked to listen to her talk about it anyway. He liked her smile, too, and her warm brown eyes that lit up like gold in the sunlight. They both loved music, and swapped favorite songs every time they saw each other. She loaned him her favorite book, and Stephen read it eagerly, looking for what she loved in every line.
It took him a while to gather the courage to ask Marian out. Howard—now graduated, running his own construction company, and happily engaged—teased him relentlessly about it. “She likes you, you clearly like her,” the young man would tell him. “What’s the problem?”
“I’m waiting for the right moment,” Stephen would respond, and Howard scoffed in response.
In the end, he didn’t ask her at the right moment. He simply asked her, one day when she was stopping by at his work to talk about the book she’d just finished, eyes bright with happiness. Her smile outshone the sun when she said yes.
One year and six months later, she said yes again when he went down on one knee on a date to one of the few functioning observatories left in the country. He would have given her every star in the sky if he could have, but Marian settled for a diamond ring and a small wedding at her brother’s farm. Stephen hadn’t known someone could hold this much joy within them without bursting.
Two years later, Stephen was thirty years old. And that was when things started to get strange.
~~~
~Prepping For Rescue~
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
She avoided his gaze as she strapped on her protective gear. While the technology they were using had come a long way since the beginning of its use, there were still dangers. Being pulled through time and space could cause serious injury or damage, and the cuffs she was locking into place would generate a field that could protect her from that. Strange, how they almost felt like shackles, weighing her down, when they were the only thing bringing her hope right now.
“You know I am,” she said. “We already tested it. We can go back now, not just forward. And if I have that chance—”
“You’re gonna take it. I know,” he said. “But we still don’t know everything about this. We don’t know how it could affect the timeline. You could start wars, cause innumerable deaths. You could prevent yourself from even being born.”
“I know the risks.” She finished with the cuffs and grabbed her jacket, pulling it on to hide the cuffs from sight. “I don’t care.”
He looked like he wanted to comment on that very much, but just sighed. “Okay. Do you have your location drone?”
“Her name is Penni,” she informed him, and he sighed again.
“It’s a robot. It doesn’t have a name.”
She couldn’t hold back a smile at the old argument. “She does now. And I have her here.” Slipping a hand into her pocket, she pulled out a flat, circular object about the size of her palm. The domed top flickered between different colors, trying to camouflage itself with its surroundings, and it zipped into the air, hovering right above her shoulder. She brushed a hand along Penni’s surface, taking a deep breath.
“Good. Keep her with you, and I’ll be able to bring you back,” he reminded her. “Otherwise…things could get ugly. Because this is all supposed to be theoretical.”
“Then I guess I’m a pioneer,” she said, mouth suddenly dry. Squaring her shoulders, she said, “Let’s do this thing.”
~~~
Exactly twenty-seven days before his thirty-first birthday, Stephen was on his way home from work. He stopped at a grocery store to pick up a few things for dinner—Marian was working later than usual, and he wanted to surprise her with a delicious home cooked meal when she got home.
When he stepped out of the store, a car drove by at top speed and shot him three times in the chest. Two other pedestrians were hit, but he was the only casualty.
Except he wasn’t.
He heard the car screech around the corner, and looked up in time to see the dark barrel of a gun pointing out a window—and then a girl slammed bodily into him, sending him crashing to the ground.
Glass from the store windows shattered upon the bullet’s impact, tinkling against the pavement. There were screams, and Stephen pushed himself into a sitting position with a groan, looking around as the car roared away.
Two other pedestrians lay on the ground—one hit in the shoulder, the other only grazed in the arm. Stephen automatically moved to help them, calling for someone to call the cops, his head spinning.
Because there had been a moment where he’d known, he’d been sure, that he was going to die. Not just fear. Utter confidence. He’d all but felt the bullets pass through his body.
But instead, a girl had saved his life.
The girl. Stephen glanced around—but there was no sign of her. And all he could remember, as he later recounted to the cops, then Marian, was a blur of green jacket and blue hair.
Something about the description itched at the back of his brain, but he wasn’t sure what. All he knew is that he was somehow, impossibly alive. And he was grateful for it.
Two days later they found out Marian was pregnant.
~~~
“It worked,” she gasped, stumbling away from the framework of the machine.
Her friend looked up, eyes widening. “It—it did? Are you okay?”
She nodded, then stumbled again, and he caught her by the arm, hauling her upward. “Whoa. Sit down, have something to drink. We should check you out—”
“I’m fine,” she said, waving away his worry. “It worked, Tad. He—he’s not dead. Is he? I can’t—I can’t think—”
Steering her into a chair, Tad said, “Disorientation is a common side effect after traveling. Let me look at the database—drink some water.”
Taking the water bottle he shoved into her hands before moving to the computer, she gulped down some of the contents, her head spinning. “Do you remember how it was before?” she asked. “You said that you might not—”
“I think being close to the temporal field distortion preserved my memory,” Tad said, typing rapidly. “It’s fascinating, and if we don’t get arrested for this, I’ll write a paper–oh.”
Her stomach dropped as his face fell. “What?”
“You…almost succeeded.” Reading from the screen, he said, “Stephen Reid, died age thirty-two, in the ‘65 train bombings.”
“What?” Rocketing out of her chair, she moved to his side, swaying a little. Tad put a hand out to steady her as she bent over the screen. “How?”
“Looks like he was injured, but didn’t let on because he was busy helping others to safety,” Tad read. Glancing at her, he said, “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, but—”
She was already moving toward the machine. “We have to go again.”
“What? I don’t think that’s a good idea. You already somehow created a temporal loop when you first went in. Who knows what—”
Spinning around, she said, “We can’t save him from being murdered just to let him die in a freak accident. It’s not—no. We’re fixing this.”
“And you don’t think this has anything to do with—”
Fixing him with a fierce glare, she said, “We’re going. Again.”
~~~
~The Typewriter Theme~
If that was the only incident, Stephen would have accepted it and moved on. He wasn’t dead, and that was something he was fiercely grateful for. His wife was pregnant, and instead of being dead he was there. For the moment when their little girl came into the world, and he held her close for the first time.
They named her Zara Grace Reid, and Stephen’s heart was full. For two long years, they had peace.
Then, when he was thirty-two, things started getting bad again. The governments were all fighting, and groups of dissenters were getting angry at, well, everyone, no matter who they claimed to hold responsible for everything going badly. Danger of terror threats grew more and more present.
The day after Zara’s birthday, Stephen was taking the train to a meeting across town. But when he got to the door, his ticket was missing. Racking his brains, Stephen vaguely remembered slipping it into his jacket pocket—and a girl bumping into him as they crossed paths in the station.
Strange. Who would steal a train ticket? He considered buying another one, but it was a nice day and he was in no hurry. He decided to walk.
Two blocks later the world exploded. Four trains, all across the city, blew up at once, killing hundreds in a deadly attack.
Stephen not only saw it when it happened, he felt it. In his chest, like he was on the train when it happened. But no sooner had the feeling come then it was gone and he was running toward the rubble, hoping desperately that he could pull someone, anyone out.
He missed his meeting and saved twelve lives that day. All the while wondering at the phantom pain in his side, but there was too much to do for him to care.
Hours later, he made it home after Marian, cleaned up, and only by the time he fell into bed did he wonder—did the girl who took my ticket know?
~~~
“SIX MONTHS?”
Pacing back and forth, she glared into space. “I only bought him six months? What does he do that makes these people want him dead so badly?”
“It’s pretty fishy,” he agreed, typing rapidly. “Okay, the records are a little messy, but I think I know the exact date. Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. Let’s go again.”
~~~
The thought didn’t really leave Stephen, as he racked his brain to remember what the girl looked like. He remembered dark hair with a splash of blue, and the girl had been holding something small. And those thoughts tugged at other memories—of a day almost twenty years ago, when someone had pulled him out of the way of a truck. Of the shooting before Zara was born.
He wasn’t able to really consider the idea, let alone voice it. Not until six months later, when there was a fire in his work building, and someone locked the door of his office, leaving him trapped inside while the flames grew and the smoke filled his lungs.
He’d been in tight spots before. He’d been trained, in the Army, not to panic, even when it was logical to do so. But as his oxygen seeped away and the door refused to budge, even as he bashed at it with a chair, Stephen found himself absolutely terrified.
No. No, this can’t be it. Images of Marian and Zara flickered through his head and he knew he had to fight, had to live at all costs. But if there was nothing he could do—
The door swung open, and someone pulled him forward.
~~~
~The Hornburg~
“I wonder what makes them choose the intervals they do,” Tad mused as he typed. “Is there someone else preventing them? Do we just do this for the rest of our lives? Are they experts or are they just trying everything and every year they can to kill him? Furthermore, what’s going to stop them from just going back to the same year and trying again—”
He stopped short when he saw her face. “Which…they definitely can’t do. Most likely. I think they can’t, anyway. It’s just that the science is so—I’m sorry. They haven’t done it yet, they probably won’t ever.”
“I hope not,” she said, checking her cuffs and scooping up Penni, who chirped a little greeting. “The last thing we need is more things to worry about.”
“Or to send you through more times.” His worry showed through the edges of his speech. “You don’t have to—”
“Let’s go again.”
“Okay.”
~~~
Stephen made it out of the fire and he could have cried with gratitude. The firefighters who arrived on scene seemed very startled to see him stumble out of the building, coughing—they said that the last man to come out had sworn up and down that there was no one else inside.
And they swore with equal fervor that they hadn’t sent anyone else in. They claimed that he must have made it out under his own steam somehow—adrenaline, maybe?
Stephen knew better.
“There are two options,” he told Marian when he explained everything to her later that day. Her brow was furrowed like it always was when she tried to solve a problem. “Either I have a literal guardian angel, or somehow the exact same person is traveling through time and space to save me.”
“I’m not sure which is more improbable,” Marian said slowly. They were sitting at the table, and her fingers twitched against the surface like she wished she had something to write on. “Bending time and space isn’t…unheard of, per se, but we’re years away from being able to achieve it under our own steam. And if we assume they’re from the future, they’d be moving into the past, which is, theoretically, even harder.”
“But then there’s the guardian angel idea,” Stephen said, grinning at her expression. “Which you think is scientifically impossible?”
She let out a long sigh. “I’ve learned not to count anything out when it comes to our faith. So…I don’t know.”
Reaching across the table, Stephen caught her hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll just have to pray that whatever this is keeps ending up at the right place at the right time.”
Their prayers were answered when, two years later, someone tried to shoot Stephen again. And again, he was pulled out of the way just in time.
~~~
“So,” Tad said, staring at the screen.
“Yup,” she said.
“A sibling, huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “Let’s do it again.”
~~~
It started happening more frequently. A near knifing in an alleyway, a car barreling toward him as he crossed the street. Every time, it was thwarted. Sometimes, he didn’t even see it coming—the coffee knocked out of his hands that hissed alarmingly on contact with the concrete, leaving it pitted and worn, for instance.
But every time, the attackers failed. And eventually, Stephen started to wonder if they should stop prevention and start focusing on the attackers. The only problem? He had no idea how to do that.
So he decided to reach out to the person who did.
~~~
“How. Did he do that?” Tad asked, staring at the screen.
“He must have realized what we’re doing, somehow,” she whispered. “I mean, he’s married to an astrophysicist, he has to have picked something up.”
Shaking his head, Tad said, “Okay, then how do we respond?”
She stared at the screen for a moment longer, thinking as she reread the lines on the screen. More specifically, the email Tad had found during his usual archive wide search for anything pertaining to Stephen Reid.
He’d sent it to himself, apparently hoping that it would be good enough. And it had been.
To whoever is helping me:
Thank you. I don’t know who you are or if you’ll receive this, but I have faith it’ll end up in the right hands.
Clearly someone wants me dead, for whatever reason. Instead of preventing it, why don’t we get rid of the attackers? Let me know how and when to help.
Stephen.
“What do we do?” Tad asked quietly
She studied it for a moment longer, then said, “We answer. I can slip him a message on my next trip. Have you located who it is and why yet?”
“I think so.” Opening a new screen, Tad tapped on the article he pulled up. “There’s a stabbing, two years from the next attempt, in an alley nearby his route to work. Exactly the kind of thing he’d get involved in and try to stop, right?”
Nodding slowly, she said, “Right. But why this person?”
“No idea. They’re dead in every timeline so far. They must do something that the attackers aren’t a fan of.”
Taking a deep breath, she said, “Then let’s hope we’re not actually on their side.”
~~~
~FREEPORT~
For a while, Stephen didn’t think his message had worked. Things were peaceful—no attacks, no poisonings. Marian found out she was pregnant again, and nine months somehow managed to fly and drag by until she gave birth to a healthy baby boy, who they named Isaiah.
And then three months after that, it happened again.
At exactly the right moment, he was pushed forward, just in time to avoid a bunch of tiles crashing to the ground from the roof. When he caught his balance and his breath, there was no one there. But when Stephen put his hands in his jacket pocket as he started onward again, he found a slip of paper.
10/11/71. Four in the afternoon on your way home from work. Watch the alleyway off Racine. Be ready.
This was it. This was the answer. A little under a year in future, he’d be able to fix this, for good. Whatever this was.
So he kept the paper tucked in his pocket until it grew worn, the folds flimsy. He kept going with life—worked and went to church and looked after his wife and children. He avoided two more attacks in that time, and every time, his mysterious helper was there just in time, only to disappear before he could get a good look at her.
Finally, the day came. Stephen usually carried a knife, out of habit, and this time he made sure he had it, just in case. The day passed in a haze of business as he worked with patients and did paperwork and wondered what exactly was going to happen.
And then work was over. It was 3:45, and he was walking home from work, hands tucked in his pockets, trying to pretend like his heart wasn’t thundering in his chest.
3:47. He passed the cart that sold churros. Oftentimes he stopped to buy one and chat with the owner, but for now Stephen just gave her a little wave and kept moving, pace brisk.
3:50. A couple of kids zipped by on bikes, laughing.
3:51. He heard footsteps behind him, and his heart lurched. Be ready, Stephen.
3:55. The sidewalk came to an end at an intersection, and he turned onto the sidewalk along Racine.
3:58. He wove through a group of teenagers and sped up a little. He could see the opening for the alleyway.
3:59. Heart pounding in his throat, Stephen came to a stop outside the alleyway.
4:00.
For a heartbeat, there was nothing. And then he heard a muffled scream from the alleyway.
Instinctively, Stephen started forward, concern rippling through him. It had been the voice of a girl—young, too young. Most likely not his helper, but that didn’t lower his concern.
He made it two steps forward before he was grabbed from behind. Stephen vaguely registered the cold press of steel against his throat for a heartbeat before he moved, driving an elbow backward into his attacker’s gut.
There was a grunt—a man’s voice, judging by the baritone—but the grip didn’t loosen. Until Stephen snapped his head backward , connecting solidly with the other man’s nose.
There was a crunch and a howl of pain, and Stephen felt the knife at his throat break skin—
And then the grip was gone, and he was stumbling forward, hand pressed against the shallow cut on his neck. Spinning around, Stephen registered a man in all black taking a swing at a young woman—green jacket, hair dyed blue at the tips, holding a weapon he didn’t recognize. What looked like a tiny flying saucer hovered next to her shoulder.
“Help her!” she shouted, dodging her opponent’s blow with ease.
For a moment, Stephen didn’t know what she meant. And then he remembered the scream from the alleyway, and turned. Pulling his knife from his pocket, he moved.
There were two men, both trying to subdue a struggling, terrified girl. One had a hand over her mouth, and the other held a wickedly curved knife. Stephen took a moment to wonder why these people insisted on using knives, and then he was on top of them.
Clearly, either of the men were expecting him. The one holding the blade went flying into the wall with a cry of pain, clutching his shoulder where Stephen’s knife had gone deep, tearing through muscle.
The second tried to reel backward, avoiding Stephen as he clutched for his own weapon while clinging to his victim. But Stephen smashed his fist into the man’s face, catching hold of the girl’s arm and pulling her away at the same time, using the man’s momentum as he fell to tear her free.
He took a minute to glance at her��no sign of injuries, just bright red hair and freckles and shocked tears starting to escape—and then turned to face his opponents again.
Only to find them gone, a trace of blood on the ground the only sign that they’d been there in the first place.
What? Baffled, Stephen turned in a full circle, then glanced at the girl. “Are you okay?” he asked, and she nodded shakily. “Okay. Wait here a minute. Call if you need me.”
Moving quickly, he headed back to the mouth of the alleyway, to see if there was any sign of his mysterious helper, or her opponent. But there was nothing. Just the now oddly dusty sidewalk, passersby who seemed to have no idea what had happened, and—
A scrap of white paper. Stephen bent and picked it up, unfolding it, and read the now familiar lopsided script inside.
She’s safe. You both are, unless you see me again. Look after her. Don’t worry about the other attackers.
There was no signature, although Stephen hadn’t expected one. A wave of relief swept over him, and he breathed out a prayer of thanks.
He was safe. They were both safe. It was done.
~~~
~Afraid Of Time~
“It’s not done,” she said.
“What?” Tad stared at her, baffled. “How can it not be done? We saved the victims, including a victim we didn’t even know we had until now, helped catch time traveling murderers, and hopefully we’re not even getting arrested for using government property without permission. Your mom might not even yell at us. How is this not a win—”
He stopped short, looking at her. As she looked at the computer file in front of her, wishing the words were different.
Stephen Reid. Died 10/12/83
“Zee.” Tad’s voice was soft. “You can’t stop everything.”
“That’s kind of the point of this whole time travel thing, Tad. I can.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “I’m stopping this. I’m going in again.”
~~~
Stephen had always loved autumns. The crisp, cool air, the knowledge of the approaching season that heralded celebrations and wonder and joy and family time. How could he do anything but love it?
Sure, he’d almost died at this time of year a few times, but with his life, when was that not true?
It had been 12 years since the last incident. He’d helped the girl—Jenny, a teenager who’d been alone and afraid and had no idea why those men had attacked her—to the hospital to get checked out. They repeated the same impossible story to the police over and over until they finally got tired of asking and declared the case closed. Stephen was fine with it. He’d been told they were safe, and he believed that.
Years had passed. Jenny became all but a member of the family, and he and Marian encouraged her and supported as she chose a career path and moved forward with her life. Stephen still wasn’t sure what the men wanted with her, but it didn’t matter. Her purpose was her own to discover.
His other two children were far too close to grown up for his taste, as well. Isaiah was thirteen, flirting with girls, and discovering a love for basketball paralleled only by his love for mischief. And Zara was in college, pursuing a degree in physics.
He held great hope and joy for both of them, that they would grow up to change the world in whatever small or big ways the Lord had planned for them. If Stephen was being honest, he held a very specific theory for one of them, as time passed and the similarity grew stronger and stronger.
And that was why, on his walk home from work, he wasn’t overly surprised to see a familiar figure at his bus stop.
She was sitting on the bench, knees pulled up against her chest. Her hair, dark like her mother’s where it wasn’t blue, covered her face in a curtain, and the tiny flying saucer hovered at her shoulder again. As Stephen drew closer, he heard it letting out soft little chirps, like it was trying to comfort her.
Sitting next to her with a grunt, Stephen set down his bag and leaned back. Glancing at her, he said, “Nice day, isn’t it?”
Her chin jerked up a little, like she was surprised to hear his voice, then lowered again. Stephen watched her for a moment, debating whether or not he should speak again, when she did, voice low and cautious.
“If you could know the day that you died, would you want to?”
Stephen considered for a moment, tapping a finger against his knee. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “My instinct would be no—why live in dread of something like that? But I can’t say I would be curious.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” the girl agreed, voice still quiet. “What if…what if you could stop it? If someone just told you the right things?”
A heavy feeling began to settle over Stepehn’s chest. “Can you?” he asked, abandoning all pretense.
She let out a choked sob, and Stephen felt a stab of sadness. “I tried,” she choked out. “I tried again and again, but no matter what I do—”
“It’s okay,” Stephen told her, gently reaching out to touch her shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
Letting her feet drop down, the girl scrubbed a hand across her face angrily. “You don’t understand.”
“I think I might,” Stephen said, his voice very soft.
She shook her head. “No, you don’t. For you, it’s been another twenty years, but for me…I thought I’d get to go home and—” she stopped short, staring across the street, eyes red.
“And I’d be there?”
She swiveled to face him, eyes going wide. “What—how did you—”
“You’re my daughter, Zara. How could I not recognize you?”
Her face crumpled, and Stephen slid across the bench to pull her into a hug as she burst into tears. She pressed her face against his shoulder and he ran his hand over her hair, the way he used to when she was a little girl.
Closing his eyes against tears of his, he whispered, “It’s okay.”
“It’s not,” she mumbled, voice muffled by his shirt. “I was supposed to get you back.”
“You did,” Stephen pointed out. “Just not for as long as you wanted. But you were the one who saved me, so many times. You’re the reason I got to watch you and Isaiah grow up, and I will never stop being grateful for that. You’re the reason Jenny’s alive.”
“It’s not enough,” she whispered. “This shouldn’t be the last time I see you.”
Stephen almost laughed, tears springing to his eyes. “It won’t be. If there’s one thing I hope your mother and I taught you, it’s that.”
Pressing a kiss against the top of her head, he pulled back a little, taking a look at her. Zara had his wife’s beauty and dark wavy hair, and he wondered when she would dye the tips blue. Her eyes were the same warm brown as Marian’s—oh, Marian—and right now, they were wet with tears.
“I don’t want to let you go,” she said, voice shaking.
“I know,” Stephen said, heart aching. All he wanted was to tell his daughter that it was going to be okay, that he was going to be able to come home. But it was becoming increasingly clear that he couldn’t make that promise.
Instead, he asked, “Tell me about what you do next. Tell me everything.”
So they sat on the bench, and Zara told him about her work and her best friend Tad—whom Stephen had already met, but the two hadn’t grown close yet—and how Isaiah was coaching at a local high school and Marian was still working, still looking out for Jenny, still going to church every day. “She still loves you so much,” Zara told him. “Even when I never knew you, she’d tell me about you and how important you were to her. I—I thought I could bring you home to her.”
“You did,” Stephen pointed out, remembering all the days he’d almost died, and all the days his daughter had saved his life. His daughter.
Eventually, the bus came around the corner, and the little flying saucer at Zara’s shoulder let out a chirp. Zara’s eyes widened, and she glanced up. “I—”
“You have to go,” Stephen guessed.
“I don’t want to,” she whispered.
“I know. But if this is it, I don’t want you to have to watch it.”
Shaking her head, Zara said, “You shouldn’t have to be alone.”
“I’m not alone,” Stephen told her, and he meant it. Though his heart was heavy with grief, it wasn’t for him. And he knew—he was sure of it—that his family would be alright. They were strong enough to look after each other without him.
Getting to his feet, he waited until Zara did the same, then pulled her into a fierce hug. “I love you,” he told her. “And I’m proud of you. You and Isaiah, you’re the best thing I’ve ever done.”
She was openly crying now, but nodded, holding him tightly for another minute. “I love you, too,” she said.
And then stepped back and the bus was there. Stephen took one last look at her, taking in every detail. At last, he turned and boarded the bus, taking a seat in the back.
It lurched into motion, and Stephen glanced out the window at the now empty bus stop. I’ll see you again, he thought. And he knew, in his heart, it was true.
Pulling out his phone, he opened up his text messages and began one to Marian.
I love you, Mari. I love the life we’ve lived together for the past twenty years. Thank you for being the best wife and friend I could have ever asked for.
Looking up, Stephen took one last look around him, and wondered what would come next. He knew more than most sitting on the bus did, and yet found himself frightened. And yet, at the same time, excited.
Whatever else happened, he was ready, with no regrets.
He sent the text.
~~~
Zara was still crying when she stumbled back into her own time, bones aching fiercely. Most trips, she’d taken a break in between, but for the past five or so, she’d gone in without stopping, time after time. Trying desperately to stop what she knew was going to happen.
It hadn’t worked.
But somehow, despite the tears and the ache in her heart, it was okay.
“Zara?”
Tad had moved to stand in front of her, face twisted with concern. “Are you okay? Or—are you hurt?”
Shaking her head, Zara took a shaking breath. “I’m okay,” she said, and he gave her an unconvinced look. “Fine, I’m not hurt. And I…” she trailed off.
“It didn’t work,” Tad said quietly. “Zee, I know you want to do this, but so many trips in a row are hurting you. And if this is so hard to stop—”
“I know,” Zara said, taking a deep breath. “It’s okay. I’m…I’m not going in again.”
Tad’s eyes widened. “Really? I—I didn’t expect that to work.”
“It didn’t,” Zara said, and couldn’t hold back a laugh at his expression. “I…I talked to my dad. It’s okay.”
“You’re sure?” Tad said slowly. “Because five minutes ago you were very ready to keep doing this or die trying.”
Nodding, Zara swiped a hand over her face, ridding herself of the last traces of tears. “I am. I got to say goodbye, and…he’s right. I’m gonna see him again. Someday.”
Resting a gentle, if slightly awkward, hand on her shoulder, Tad nodded. “I’m glad. He’d be proud of you, Zee.”
“Thanks, Tad.” Zara took a deep breath. It was time to stop living in the past, and start looking at the new, and slightly changed present she had waiting for her.
And when the time came to see her father again, she would greet him with joy and the knowledge that she’d lived her life to the fullest, like he had. Until then, all she could do was take the first step toward doing that.
#inklingschallenge#team tolkien#inklings challenge#genre: time travel#theme: counsel#theme: comfort#story: complete#this actually turned out so much better than i thought it would#there were. some moments#but i like the vibes#also now i'm obsessed with two of these ocs and need to feature them in more content#fun fact this could and probably does exist in the same universe as my kyvis stories#which is a HILARIOUS concept that i shall have to explore more#anyway i digress#i'd apologize for how overboard i went with the playlist BUT#a) you can just ignore it if you want to#and b) it's a masterpiece and i love it so much#it's for the VIBES GUYS#and i haven't spent this long waiting to find a character that fits how do i say goodbye only to not share when i do find one#MOVING ON#writing stories is a kind of magic too
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My first attempt at writing that's vaguely like poetry: from a dragon
I am not what you think.
I walk around, awkward limbs and flighty mannerisms, and you think I’m strange. You have no idea how strange you would think I am if you only saw what was underneath.
Underneath, I am a creature of the ocean. Something that could never pass as human, and no longer wants to. Saltwater rushes through my veins in secret, silent to everyone but me. To me, it’s a roaring sound of the waves that I have never seen except for within my soul. It yearns to dissolve into the ocean like it could long ago, but for now those days are over and I am hidden underneath skin and muscle.
Underneath, there are wings; fins; antlers. They ache to tear from my back, through my skull. Nonetheless, they stay hidden for me, safe in the silence. Protected like I protected my kin in a lifetime so close to the surface and yet unreachable. Wrapped in a form that no longer coils around them like a serpent, but keeps them hidden from predators well enough I suppose.
I suppose.
I accept my form reluctantly and do what I can to make it mine. I shape it to feel better when I discover my gender, and when I can’t shape it to fit my true self I cover it in things that feel a little more like home. A little more draconic. A little more like the ocean that I never have seen, but feel homesick for anyway.
I do find joy in being in this body, at least. Out there, there are others. Angels working minimum wage, dragons sitting on a park bench, wolves buying groceries. We hide, but we do so to be free. We walk through crowds, and no one notices our scales and fur and feathers. But we do. We see each other, even if from miles away, and we see what’s underneath.
And underneath, none of us are what you think.
(Tags for side commentary/context)
#not looking for even constructive criticism since this is literally my first ever writing that isn't fiction or just a vague ramble#at least the first that I finished#I'm not calling it poetry bc that feels too fancy#this is a ramble that's shaped like poetry#because I'm such an open book type of person to the point that some people have called me “so brave for being open” about things#which I still genuinely don't understand bc bro I'm just talking about being autistic and queer and shit like if you had issues with that#I would tell you to fight me#but that aside#it's become an issue that I can't talk about my otherkinity irl to most people#like it'd be unsafe and all that jazz#so this was sort of about that#and sort of just a general exploration of my draconity for fun#and sort of a shoutout to the otherkin community for making me feel normal about it#bc otherwise I'd feel like a freak and be miserable right about now#otherkin#alterhuman#nonhuman#dragonkin#otherkin blog#otherkinity#therian#otherkin community#amphitere kin#it feels too dramatic or smth but that's just the tone I write this type of shit in so???? ehhhh fuck it#I'm not looking to make GOOD writing#I'm looking to write that's it#(also I'm not fishing for compliments in the slightest I'm legit writing that down so my ADHD ass remembers to not judge my writing later)#not sure if i should tag a tw but like#body horror tw#? I think?
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