You know that time in the comics when the Doctor is so depressed, he shuts off the lights, turns on an interrogation spotlight, locks himself in the console room, and argues with a bunch of judgmental shadow-figures resembling his past incarnations?
And all the TARDIS' lights go out and her interior becomes a maze to keep his companions out of the console room, all from her psychic connection with the Doctor (“moodbleed”)?
And his companions are left wandering in circles for two days as the air goes “stale,” not knowing where he is but thinking the worst, while he hallucinates in a dark room?
...because I'm thinking again about the times this definitely happened when he was with the Ponds.
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I have an agenda.
Long hair teenage sabo.
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What do proshippers generally believe about shipping real people? Stuff like creator x creator or celebrity x reader?
That it falls under the umbrella of "you should be allowed to write anything you want". Once again, it's not my personal thing. There's no real life pairing I read for, and the whole "blank x reader" is not appealing to me at all.
But I have no problem with people writing that stuff, or knowing it's out there. I saw someone a while back say that it's basically just writing about another character, and I agree with that. No matter how much a creator posts or how open a celebrity seems with their personal life, we're still only seeing a tiny snippet of their lives. We have no clue who they are when the cameras aren't recording because we just don't know them. And whatever someone chooses to write about is mostly stemming from that particular persona that they happen to put on for the world and that's it. It's completely separate from our reality because they're basically just writing about another made up character
The problem I have, and it's what I imagine most proshippers also take issue with, is when people start blurring the lines between fiction and reality. To me, there's a world of difference between posting something on ao3, and speculating on secret relationships in the comments of someone's youtube video. Or between talking about something on tumblr, and tagging the person directly on twitter.
I just don't understand people who condemn rpf and talk about how gross and invasive it is, but think it's funny to tag celebrities on twitter to bring up (what they think is) cringe-worthy fanfic tropes that people have written them into. Or people who print out fanworks to shove into an actor's face at a meet and greet and ask them what they think about it. That's where the lines get crossed, to me.
I think ao3 and tumblr still have an air of mysticism to them. A little secrecy, a little privacy. In the sense that someone in the public eye would have to put in a little work to find this stuff for themselves. They'd have to go to the site and search themselves up to find anything. As opposed to just about anyone in the world being able to force this content in their line of sight with a simple @ on a site like twitter.
So to me the problem isn't that this content exists. The problem is when people don't know how to keep fandom stuff private. Write all the rpf you want but remember at the end of the day these are real people, not your blorbos. You don't know them. It's inappropriate to say these things to them personally (which yes, also includes tagging them on twitter or in the comments of their videos). But it's also inappropriate to run up to them with other people's content just to say "look what these FREAKS wrote about you!!" And I think people either forget or just genuinely don't care about the latter.
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i had thoughts of a canon-adjacent Zoro (nonbeliever ambitious swordsman) and Death-God!Sanji who keep meeting because of how close to dying Zoro always gets during his fights and oops now it's a messy drabble written in between breaks at work and here ya go.
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In all his years as the god of Death, Sanji has never seen such a stubborn, strong willed human- he’s honestly half amused every time he's brought to a wounded, bleeding Zoro. He doesn't expect him to survive that giant slash attack from the warlord, nor the myriad of injuries he collects after that- and if he feels a bit of pride every time he escapes him Death, well, no one will know.
It takes him a while to realise that, in those fleeting moments, when he's loitering and waiting around as Zoro approaches the point of no return, Zoro can see him as well. Sanji's a bit mortified at first. All this time, he's just been voicing his thoughts out loud like he always does, who knows what the reckless man overheard! It's pure force of habit, since it’s not like there’s ever someone to hear to him- his family chose this domain for him on purpose after all; they took all the great, bright, good, worshiped domains of life, war, medicine...and left him this one to punish him, break him with eons of witnessing and bearing human grief in solitude.
It's barely morning and Zoro is dripping with blood, resolutely standing against all odds in a beautiful display of absolute devotion and conviction, and Sanji feels like maybe today will be the day he takes him- that this is the end for the stubborn swordsman. He comes closer than he ever has to the man, walks right up to him, readying himself for the weight of another soul's voyage, when Zoro's lidded eyes snap up and meet his own. His fiery gaze doesn’t go straight through him, but actually settles on him. Sees him.
It's unnerving. Sanji shivers at this feeling of being perceived.
Humans usually only see him once they fully passed on, when he’s guiding them, cold hands gripping onto him, begging, crying, frightened or even sometimes full of wrath and fighting to stay by their loved ones.
“It’s you again.” His voice is weak, raspy.
Sanji doesn’t answer.
“Why're you always here for my big battles?” A pause. “You like me or somethin'?”
Confusion. Shock. Embarrassment. “You think I stalk you and show up for you battles!?”
“Sure seems like it.”
Sanji scoffs.
He can’t believe this! He wants to chew the bastard out- who the hell does he think he is? but he bites down on his words, certain that these are the man's final moments. There's no way anyone could survive such wounds- it's a miracle he's even conscious or standing.
He doesn’t want to add insult to injury.
“I’m the god of Death, you idiot.”
Oops.
“I don’t believe in gods.”
The absurdity of that statement when literally in conversation with one doesn’t escape Sanji, but he's not really there to argue.
The green-haired man continues. “So, what, you’re into me or something? Just ask me out like a normal person.”
This cocky asshole...Sanji's heated reply is cut off by Zoro’s nakama arriving on the scene in a panic. Sanji trails after them, hovering, ready for the now unconscious body's heart to stop beating at any moment- but the moment doesn't come.
Under the attention of their talented doctor, Zoro escapes him once again.
Sanji's definitely not relieved.
It's out of curiosity that he stays around a little longer. He returns from time to time to check in on the mysterious man and his recovery, still a bit unbelieving that he managed to survive such grievous, traumatic injuries and intense blood loss. By all means he should've died the instant he made contact with the red, concentrated bubble of pain and stress that Kuma expelled from his captain's body.
His friends weep and berate him when he wakes. The ginger woman who found him screams at him to “stop flirting with death” and Sanji chuckles- she doesn’t know how technically accurate that statement is.
Later, Sanji guiltily looks forward to feeling that tug from Zoro once more, that pull on his power he feels when someone is nearing his domain. He's admittedly curious to learn more about him, this idiot swordsman who can see him, hear him, and yet isn’t at all scared of him. It's so rare for humans to accept him without a hint of fear.
He doesn’t let himself dwell on that tinge of nervousness at the back of his mind- what if the next time is the time he steals him away- from his friends, his dream, his captain? What if this time he doesn’t get back up?
But he does.
And when he lingers in the cold, empty room of Kuragaina castle where the bandaged swordsman is laid to rest, content to stare at his mossy head of hair, Sanji notices something weird. From his bedside seat, he can feel the ghost of body warmth.
He tentatively leans closer, his fingers reach out, expecting to go right through Zoro's arm. They recoil, as if burned by fire, when instead they meet soft flesh.
Huh.
Zoro's eyes blearily crack open, immediately finding his hovering form.
"You're... back."
And Sanji knows something changed, that day, on Thriller Bark. He's been on this earth for a long, long time, and he knows Zoro should be dead. Unequivocally so. And yet he isn't. Whether by the sheer strength of his willpower or his fervent defiance of the gods and the laws of this universe, Zoro is still...present. Alive enough to have warm, red blood flowing through his veins and air filling his lungs. Dead enough to perceive him, touch him, feel him.
__
War brews and Sanji has a lot of work on his hands. After the carnage, he wearily returns to Kuragaina, and Zoro, sullen, heavy with guilt, asks him if it's true. Asks him if the eye of this particular storm, the man known as Ace, is truly dead.
Death has long worn away at Sanji, a constant wave beating at the his endless empathy his father called a weakness, wearing him down with each soul he takes from this world. But he's never become numb to it. He openly, lovingly feels the sorrow with every loss, with each reaping, with every last breath rasped from trembling lips. He embraces it, cherishes it for all of its bittersweet taste.
So he tells Zoro of Marineford. Of the epic battle that occurred there between Whitebeard and the marines. With each somber word he feels just a little lighter- an unfamiliar, happy feeling blooming in his chest at getting to talk to someone after what feels like a forever of solitude.
Time passes, and Sanji visits him more and more, grateful for the rare company. It'd been so long since he last was able to have a decent conversation with someone. Joke around. Banter. Flirt? They grow closer, never really voicing the...whatever it is that passes between them. Zoro eventually returns to his crew, and Sanji avoids approaching him unless he's alone. Wouldn't want people to think he's seeing things.
--
It becomes a dance. A well oiled machine. Zoro cutting down the enemies before him, Sanji right behind him and guiding his fallen foes into the afterlife. Cut after cut, his blades sing in the air, accompanied by the groans and cries of the people Sanji welcomes into his waiting arms.
After a big battle Zoro is laying in the rubble, chest heaving from the effort. Sanji sits with him, solemn. Accepting. Enjoying his company, the only company he can keep.
Zoro still hasn't admitted that gods are real, even when he sees Sanji trail after the path his bloodied swords carve out, hard at work. Even when he sees Sanji's dark, draped silhouette raise into the skies, untethered - that’s just skywalk, he says.
--
Sanji grows fearful. Shaken by the feelings, the attachment he feels for the swordsman, like a tether to this world. It makes him feel more alive than he ever has, yes. But nothing good can ever come of it, and he knows the universe isn't kind enough to give him such happiness without the promise of a subsequent fall, a return to reality soured and made worse by what came before it.
It's a dark, rainy day when Zoro corners him on the Sunny. Sanji hasn't visited him in a couple of days- not much death without opponents around.
They're at the back of the ship, obscured by the mikan trees, and Zoro's hands are bracing him against the wall, locking him in. Sanji knows he could go through the wall, but Zoro's eye has him pinned, frozen where he stands. His arms lay lifelessly by his sides.
The swordsman leans in, cups his chin, and Sanji doesn't think- his eyes flutter shut, he's open and wanting as warm, chapped lips press delicately against his. They don't need words. They know. Can feel it with every tender touch as their bodies work together to deepen the kiss. Sanji loops an arm around Zoro's neck, hand digging into his hair, while the other bunches up the fabric of his kimono to bring him ever closer. He's pressed so tightly against him that he can almost pretend the beating feeling near his chest is his own heart, can almost feel the rushing sound in his ears, the warmth seeping into his skin, up his chest, his neck, cheeks, ears.
Zoro breaks apart for air, and Sanji hears himself mirroring his pants, so enamoured with the swordsman he feels like his breath was stolen away.
"Curls." Zoro's looking at him odd, nearly awestruck, eyes flitting across his face, his body, his hands reach out to take his hands in his, lightly massaging his flesh.
A stern feminine voice rings behind them, snapping their heads to attention.
"Zoro, who the hell is this man you're kissing behind my mikan trees?!"
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starting my curator!geto fic officially now! <3
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What do you think as Hermione's career would be post battle of Hogwarts? To me her being minister for magic really doesn't make sense. She does not have patience or tact to wade through murky waters of politics 😭😭
So hard to say! The Trio are so, so young when we leave them, I find it almost impossible to project their futures farther than a few years out. The job that suited me at 17 would be radically unsuited to me now. That's why of all the Trio, Ron's ending strikes me as the most realistic — he jumps straight into the save-the-world business again, burns out, realizes he's actually Done The Fuck Enough, Thanks, and pivots into a low-stress career where he gets to see his family a lot. Feels accurate! The others are weirder to me because they do seem to just... pick a lane and stay there.
With Hermione, you could spin her a couple ways. You could say that she leans into her bookish side and does research or teaching, which is not my preference for a couple reasons (namely, I don't think Hermione would like academia as a profession; she finds her classwork interesting and enjoys intellectual validation, but she'd be stifled and wasted in a DPhil program, and she'd be infuriated by the administrative politicking of your average higher-ed faculty). You could say that she gets disaffected with politics and ends up as a barrister or a lobbyist of some kind, but if anything that requires more political finesse, because you don't actually have institutional power, you're just handling the people who make decisions and trying to persuade them of your goals. This is not Hermione's preferred method of influence. She's not even particularly good at persuasion, she just happens to be smart enough (and right often enough) that people take her ideas seriously.
Or you could say her brashness fades with the years into a softened flavor of tell-you-like-it-is honesty, which some politicians actually do successfully trade on; as we see in British politics today, you don't have to be all that charming or clever to get ahead, you just need to be really driven and well-connected (which Hermione completely is; she fought shoulder-to-shoulder with the first postwar Minister and her bestie, the Literal Messiah, runs the Auror Office.) But I don't know if Hermione especially wants to be Minister, after the war. She's just watched years of horrendous bureaucratic incompetence plunge the country into a violent civil conflict. She's had not one, but two Ministers of Magic try to bully or shame her friends into complicity with fascism. Her view of government is... likely extremely dark.
But Hermione also isn't the kind of person who sees her life as a quest for happiness. Babygirl has a savior complex that makes Harry look selfish. (She basically kills her parents — yeah, obliviating is a form of murder, #changemymind — "for their own good," and justifies every batshit, vindictive, mean-spirited move she ever pulls on the grounds that it "helps" one of her friends.) She is a mean, lean, dragon-slaying machine, and she needs a dragon. After Voldemort, the Ministry is the no. 1 threat to muggle-borns and non-wizarding Beings. As a war heroine with basically infinite political capital, I'd be surprised if she didn't try to do something there. That said, Hermione is so vivacious and dynamic that she could potentially grow in a hundred different directions; it's possible that all of this, while true of her at 18, becomes completely inaccurate by 22. That's why I'm not too fussed about any particular fanon interpretation.
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Nico who has been deified after his death. Nico who's sure, after all this time, he's finally managed to let go of his older sister's death, of course, it still hurts, and of course, he will never forget her, but that fiery hatred and overtaking sadness, has finally been put to rest.
Nico knows and understands that his sister chose to move on without him, and that's okay, no it's never gonna be okay but he's made his peace with that too, and now, that he's an inmortal himself he never expects to see Bianca again.
Nico lives easy. He works for his father, he sleeps for a couple decades at a time, sometimes he goes back to Camp, takes care of some kids during their quests here and there, but for the most part, he's a chain-free roaming God.
And then, one day at Camp Nico meets her, a tiny little girl, with how long he has lived, time has become almost impossible for Nico to really track down anymore, but he's sure this girl can't be more than 10.
And something about her eyes, her dark, void-like eyes, and her long black hair, and her proud stance. It really reminds him of somebody else.
The girl is all alone, no little brother or older sister of her own, no parents either, apparently, she's a child of Hekate, but that really doesn't matter.
Something about the girl's every move, about the way she approaches the darkness without fear, about the way she approaches him, like she's known him all his life, the way she uses her whole body when talking.
It reminds Nico of Bianca. This girl's soul is just like Bianca's.
And Nico supposes it's no longer a fatal flaw, but he still doesn't know how to let go.
Nico immediately claims her on the spot, lets her sleep on the Hades Cabin, helps her out with everything, takes care of her for years and years.
It's the first time in centuries, that Nico as a God feels connected to his mortal side.
When the little girl cuddles against him, because she's had yet another nightmare about manticores and huge robots, while Nico quietly tries to hug her, and reassure her she's going to be fine, he even starts thinking that maybe his family has grown, yet again.
And then, she's send off on a Quest, Nico loudly protests against it, because he knows how those end.
Because, he still remembers waking up screaming and trashing, in the middle of the night, inside the Hermes Cabin, surrounded by strangers and shadows, as he felt Bianca's soul perish away.
But it's no use, the Oracle of her time had already issued her prophecy, this new girl, Rachel having long since passed away, who Nico feels almost comfortable cursing in the spot, just like his father had done so many centuries ago.
The little girl leaves, and Nico now has nobody to swear to keep her protected. Nico knows it's useless to try to convince her to stay, but he still does, it doesn't work, it never has worked
But truth is, she doesn't even look scared.
She's excited, and ready, and determined, and Nico has to wonder if this is how Bianca looked like, during her last week on Earth, too.
The girl leaves and she doesn't come back.
Nico thinks, it should be easier by now. It isn't, it's never gonna be it
Hades catches Nico roaming mindlessly around Elysium, after noticing his absence from The House, for what's either days, or years.
Hades mournfully reassures Nico that Bianca is not there anymore. No, not this time, not last time, not next time either.
After that, Nico chooses to abandon Camp fully, once again, he doesn't come back for another few centuries, until Hermes asks him for help getting his children to satefy at Camp.
Nico swallows the bile, that he's sure a Godly body like his own, shouldn't be able to produce anymore, shakes Hermes's hands, and tells his cousin his children will make it through, just fine.
Nico rescues the kids, regretfully send them off to live all cramped up together at their Father's Cabin forever, but one of the boys of the bunch, just has such dark eyes, like a black hole consuming souls.
And he stands so proud, and Nico just knows once more, and all at once, because he would recognize Bianca's soul anywhere.
In life, in death, at the end of the world, in a Hekate's daughter, in an Hermes's son, it doesn't matter, the person standing in front of him, is simply Bianca in another skin.
Bianca, being a wild hero once more, and Nico has to wonder if she can see him as clearly as he can see her.
Bianca is the only one after all, who has known him all his life, Bianca knew his name before it was even his own. Nico was born knowing her.
If she can see him, or if she can't, Nico doesn't even know which one would hurt more.
Time passes, and if Nico let's the boy sleep at the Hades Cabin, because the nightmares about manticores, giant robots, and magic are too much to bear, and he can't even scream in peace inside the Hermes Cabin, well, that's only Nico's own business to know about.
Nico realizes, after a few ages of Godhood, that The Fates like repeating their own stories.
Nico knows he hates all of them, deeply and purposefully.
The Oracle comes up to the boy, Nico is sure she must be a new girl, but all the girls Apollo chooses all look the same, and she is the same, she gives the hero the prophecy that will bury him.
And, it doesn't even take Nico a glance to know, that this is where that boy's life thread is cut.
Nico wants to sneer, this would be Bianca's third death, and if a hero dies three times they get the special prize, and yet.
Nico begs the boy to not go, because they both know he's not gonna make it back.
Bianca never has. Bianca never does. This is Bianca's fate. She was already dead before the story even began.
But the boy doesn't even break eye contact with Nico, as he tells Nico that he's very kind, and that he loves him too, but no way.
He's gonna go, and so, the boy does.
The boy leaves and he doesn't come back, and Nico has to crawl at his Godly skin, and remember the sensations, of back when there was human flesh, and blood running through his veins.
And that's just the thing isn't it, that Bianca is never going to stay by his side, because she doesn't want to.
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are you still doing those fic requests? i think it might be interesting to do something related to the mysteries of dragon blazers :] like maybe kris and noelle playing it together and encountering a creepy missingo.-type glitch boss
"So this is the shortcut I found!" Noelle says happily, directing the hero through what looks to just be a mass of identical bush tiles. "It took a lot of trying... But it lets you just entirely skip over the cavern."
Kris frowns, tilting their head at the screen. "But isn't Grinsley still in there?"
"Oh, yeah... But the sword he gives you isn't really worth it? You can buy one just like it in the town you end up in, fahaha."
Kris nods, going quiet for a bit, watching as the bushes give way to blackness.
"Isn't that mean?" they say finally.
Noelle blinks. "What is?"
Kris considers, gripping the sleeve of their sweater between their fingers and rubbing it as they gather their words. "I know that, um, Grinsley isn't that helpful... But he's still the hero's friend, right? The hero has to be super worried about being made to just leave him behind like that for... forever..." They lower their head. "I dunno. I wouldn't like it."
Noelle blinks, then grins. "Wow, Kris, didn't take you as a Grinsley fan. Was it the flexing?"
"I'm not--" Kris protests. "I don't like him. But they do." They point at the screen. "Isn't this their quest to help their friends? They wouldn't want to just leave one behind."
Noelle considers that, looking at the screen.
"It's okay," she says finally. "He shows up in the last town and stuff still, so the game just figures you rescued him anyways. It doesn't really matter what way you do it, and this way... You get through the game much faster. You can save the world faster. That's good, right? That's what heroes do."
Kris frowns, but nods. Their horns bob loosely on their head. "I guess. I just... I dunno. I like going fast through games and stuff, but..." They shrug. "Dunno. Sorry. It's dumb."
"No, I understand... I get worried about so much dumb stuff, it's kind of nice to see you do it too?" She grins.
They stick their tongue out at her. "Your stuff is way dumber. You're scared of p"e"zza boxes."
"Because someone kept staring through my window wearing one until Dess chased them off." She can't fake annoyance for long. "Um... How about this. I'll get better gear, and we'll do the cavern backwards. I kind of want to see what happens, honestly!"
Kris nods, sitting up straighter. "Yeah, okay. I wanna see if it gets confused." They giggle. "Thanks."
"No problem." She smiles, warm. "Now c'mon, there's a secret chest you can get the same way..."
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How awesome would it be if future Trolls movies referenced past Dreamworks movies such as Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron or the Shrek movies?
referenced how? because spirit is based on the real world, and shrek is an european fairytale mashup world, and trolls is a made up fantasy world...
either way, i wouldn't like it. i prefer when things are their own separate universes.
it would be awesome if future trolls movies properly referenced the first two movies tho...
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I’ve been thinking about that post you tagged about writing fitzier breeding kink for the Terror Bingo for like, three days straight. Please write that 👀 👀 👀
So I told myself that in 2024 I'm going to write kinkier fic and boy howdy are we off to a hell of a start!
I am...possibly over invested in this fic, frankly. There are...so many bullet points in my Google doc.
Basic premise: James' brother Will and sister-in-law Elizabeth are having another child, and ask James to come help take care of their current two young children until the new baby arrives. James convinces Francis to come along. He is a natural with the children, though he professes not to be. There is SO MUCH horny longing and competency kink. Oh god. So much.
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I have no base for this, but Halsin seems like the type who would settle in the middle of the group with fruits (that he likely foraged) and little wooden bowl in tow and just start cutting them unprompted and offering them to everyone else.
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Personally I find it really funny that based on what the twins said in the Book 2 finale re: having to tell their mom about what happened to Unalaq, it's literally canon that Unalaq's wife a) exists, b) is alive, and c) is just chilling in the Northern Water Tribe
She took one look at all the spirit fuckery her husband was getting up to and went "Well that's none of my business" and honestly I respect that
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i just think that Wild should come back to the chain with a magic rock, I mean it's not like he would be the only one with a magic rock, Look at Twi's shadow crystal or Wind's walkie-talkie necklace, and what would we call all of Legends rings if not wearable magic rocks? The ocarina of time? MAGIC ROCK with some holes in it. You know what Hyrule's magic sword is made of? THAT'S RIGHT! MAGIC ROCKS
And guess what was left behind with no explanation in totk, that had a whole quest attached to it that stood in parallel with a bunch of other versions of the same scene where someone gets a magic rock? MINERU'S secret stone, SPIRIT SAGE LU WILD LETS GO
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