Just in case...
So there's a fic I'm totally not writing. >_> Just getting it out of my system! It's utterly indulgent. I have spent over 5000 words writing what would be a multichaptered panel talking about materia.
(The premise, if I haven't already chattered about it, is that Genesis and Angeal were rejected for SOLDIER. Genesis went on to become an influential academic. Yes he is on the panel talking passionately about materia. Yes Reeve is smitten. I can't help myself apparently.)
But yeah, I basically made this post to go "over 5000 words and I'm not done with the materia panel" I have no idea if people other than me, @case-of-traxits and @wandererriha would actually want to read this but guys, I had to tell you anyway. This is consuming me. I'm on CH8 of around-2K length chapters and I started less than a week ago. @_@
Please reblog for max exposure. Also just so you know, the poll doesn't tell me who voted for what, and I am working on the other fics at the same time. A Second Chance at Family needs one more chapter written, Dog Whistle needs some solid work for what I think is the final arc of the story, and Waltzing Through Time has an absurd amount of buffer so that's not a concern. I probably wouldn't start posting until Second Chance is done. If I post at all.
We'll see. Let me know in the poll, comments, and reblogs! Thanks for your support guys!
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Wrote a bit of this thing I said I wasn’t going to write
“EDWAAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!” The voice came bellowing through the walls, seeming to almost rock the ship.
“Is that…Blackbeard?” Stede asked his new friend. Besides being loud, the cry was strangely resonant; he could almost believe it to be the voice of a being with a head made of smoke.
“Nah,” said Ed. “I’m Blackbeard. That’s Izzy.”
“What?” Now Stede heard the tremor that he’d managed to keep out of his voice when he’d asked about the bellow.
“You know, my First Mate,” Ed—Blackbeard—said, fingering one of Stede’s jackets. “Say, you wanna try something weird?”
The something weird did manage to do away with some of Stede’s intimidation about learning the identity of his guest. Blackbeard did, it turned out, put on his trousers—or Stede’s trousers—one leg at a time, like anyone else.
Bu that progress abruptly vanished when they stepped out of the auxiliary wardrobe to find a large, scaly head poking through one of the cabin windows, just over Stede’s bed. “Auggh!” he screamed.
“Iz,” Ed said. “Get back up on deck.” He sounded only mildly irritated, like someone scolding his dog—and indeed he picked up a cushion and brandished it in the general area of the creature’s head. “Go on—I’ll be there in a minute.”
With a snort, the head withdrew.
“Wh-wh-what was that?” Stede asked.
Ed gave him a puzzled look. “Izzy,” he said. “Hanging upside down off the taffrail, the big idiot. Sometimes he falls in when he does that.”
“In?” Stede asked, contemplating the creature falling into his cabin.
“Yeah. He can swim, but if he goes in face-first he’s coughing for days. C’mon.” He led the way out of the cabin.
Following him, Stede said, “So that’s, ah…that’s Izzy.” Stede had heard the rumors, of course—that Blackbeard was the only pirate in the Caribbean to have a dragon—but the General History of the Pyrates said it was only that, a rumor. “Your dragon.”
“My First Mate, yeah,” Ed corrected. “He’s his own dragon.”
They went out on deck. Ed delivered a brief speech introducing himself as Captain Bonnet and Stede as Blackbeard, and encouraged the crew to applaud, but Stede didn’t hear much of it. He was a little preoccupied with the dragon—Izzy—occupying most of the forecastle.
They’d taken a field trip to a covert once, when he was in school in England, so Stede knew that Izzy was not, in an objective sense, an especially large dragon. Crouched as he was on his belly, his shoulder was only perhaps as high as that of an especially large carthorse—though he’d be taller, of course, when he stood, and the length of his neck added to the impression of height. And sprawled across the width of the deck, his length left ample room for the crew to get past him to the heads, if they so desired, although it would mean a choice between passing rather close to his jaws on the port side, or clambering over his tail on the starboard. The talons of the paw—hand? –that dangled over the forecastle railing weren’t much longer than Stede’s hand.
For the truly large breeds, a single paw—or hand—might be almost the size of a man, and even a medium-weight dragon would be unable to fit anywhere on the Revenge’s decks. Strictly speaking, Izzy was decidedly on the small side for a dragon.
But at this range, he didn’t look small. He seemed to take up the entire forecastle, and with a slight effort he could have stretched his head as far as the mainmast.
Doubtless, it was for that reason that all of the crew were gathered aft of said mast. It wasn’t especially likely that any of them had ever seen a dragon before, as more than a distant shape in the sky. There were very few European dragons in the New World, and the Caribbean islands were too small to support local populations. There were some on the mainland—the Incan Empire was said to have them in vast numbers, with traditions of dragon husbandry many times more ancient than Britain’s—but they generally kept their distance from European settlements.
Stede had just about decided that he had to approach the dragon—purely to set a good example, of course—when Izzy said, “Edward, what the fuck are you wearing?”
He’d known that dragons talked, of course. But he’d had the impression that it was only a few words, like parrots.
But Ed seemed to find nothing unusual in this remark. “Weren’t you listening?” he asked. “I’m Stede. He’s Edward.”
Izzy stretched out his head to look at Stede with one fist-sized eye. Stede managed not to recoil. “Er, hello,” he said. “Very nice to meet you.”
The dragon rumbled in his throat.
“Are you a, ah, Winchester?” Stede asked. Those were the small ones, he was nearly sure. Although they were mostly brown, if he remembered correctly, and Izzy was black, or perhaps a very dark grey. “Or a cross, perhaps?”
Izzy drew in his paw—hand?—and bit delicately at one of his talons, showing thumb-sized teeth. “Winchester-Widowmaker cross,” he agreed.
“Ah. Lovely.”
Turned away from Stede to look at Ed, the Izzy demanded, “Are we staying much longer?”
“A bit, yeah,” Ed said. Turning to Stede, he added, “That reminds me, you’re going to need a new goat. And chickens. And pig.” To Izzy, he added, “Go catch some fish or something.”
The dragon flicked his tail in catlike displeasure.
“Unless you want some of this salt-meat we took from the Spanish,” Ed added.
Scoffing, Izzy turned one last glare on Stede, spread his wings, and launched, leaving the ship rocking with the force of his takeoff.
“Right,” Ed said, clapping Stede on the shoulder. “Where were we?”
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Krakoa fic I'm not going to write
Emma Frost has already been congratulated on conquering the planet. That's a thing. It's canon. So it got me to thinking...
First scene: Magneto and Xavier have a tiff over something stupid. Doesn't matter what it is. Just dumb not-boyfriends arguing over some dumbass thing or another.
Then Amora the Enchantress shows up quite suddenly. Because she wants to marry Magneto. Because, you know, he's the best-known of the Krakoan leadership and she has thus decided that *he* has conquered the planet. Magneto is therefore worthy of her time.
Magneto agrees, mostly to piss Xavier off.
Various Marvel characters cameo to react to this announcement. Quicksilver and the Scarlet Witch both agree that their new stepmom-to-be is "disturbingly hot," which is incredibly awkward.
Blah, blah. There's a lot of Amora demanding attention and Magneto giving it to her in an obvious bid to make Xavier jealous. It's all very obnoxious.
Blah, blah. Wedding planning is a nightmare. Amora announces to Magneto that they should kill Polaris. Because Amora demands to be the only one in green at the wedding. Magneto refuses and insults her. She casually backhands him, which crushes his skull. Because she's an Asgardian goddess with super-strength and he's a Squishy Wizard (warning for TV Tropes link!).
The wedding is off. Amora flounces back to Asgard in a huff. Krakoa enters into discussion about whether or not to bump Magneto to the top of the resurrection list or let him wait a bit as punishment for being obnoxious because it's bad form to jump the line (again).
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Nothing will dispell the "the curtains were just blue" myth faster than writing something yourself, because the amount of pretentious symbolism i am putting in my silly little fanfics is ridiculous. I mean SO much with these words, literally every single one of them. This fic has twenty five typos and zero correct uses of punctuation but if there's curtains you bet your ass I put thought into what colour they were.
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Comprehensive Lexicon Guide for First-Time SW Fic Readers:
Flimsi/Flimsiplast = Paper
Flimsiwork/Datawork = Paperwork
Stylus = Pen
Datapad = Tablet
Comlink/Comm = Communication Device/Phone
Binders = Handcuffs
Chronometer = Clock
Spectacles = Eyeglasses
Chrono = Watch
Conservator = Refrigerator
Caf = Coffee
Nerfburger = Hamburger
Blue milk = Milk (literally blue)
Hubba chips = French Fries
Sweet roll = Doughnut
Flatcakes = Pancakes
Tabac = Tobacco
HoloNet = World Wide Web
Holovision/HoloTV = Television
Holodrama/Holovids = Movie/Videos
Holocamera/Holocam = Camera
Holomap = three-dimensional map
Holojournal = Newspaper
Holocube = Picture frame
Holotable = Projector
Holoscanner = X-ray machine
Holojournalist = Reporter
Flatholo/Holograph = Photograph
Sonic Damper = Active Noise Cancellation
Refresher/Fresher= Bathroom
Sonic Bath = Bath
Sanisteam/Sonic shower = Waterless Shower
Hydrospanner = Wrench
Hydro Flask = Water Bottle
Power Cell/Energy Cell = Batteries
Authorization Chip = Decryption key
Datatape = Disk
Datastick = Flash drive
(Personal) Com Code = Phone number
Datachip = SD Card
Synthflesh = Synthetic skin
Glowrod = Flashlight
Sparkstick = Match
Slugthrower = Gun
Slug = Bullet
Vibroblade = a blade that can vibrate at high frequencies, increasing its cutting power and penetrating ability (tactical knife)
Rangefinder = Rifle scope
Turbolaser = Cannon
Ion pike/Vibropike = Spear
Electro Staff = Stun baton
Blaster = Pistol/Rifle
Stun Blaster = similar to a Taser
Landspeeder/Airspeeder/Speeder = Car
Turbolift = Elevator
Slideramp = Escalator
Starfighter = Fighter jet
Rotorcraft = Helicopter
Hoverpack/Jetpack= Jet pack
Speeder Bike = Motorcycle
Skylane = Traffic lane
Railspeeder/Hovertrain = Train
Power Chair/Hoverchair= Wheelchair
Windscreen = Windshield
Podracing = Car racing
Dejarik = Chess
Sabacc = Poker and Blackjack combined
Galactic Rebels = Combat simulator
B'shingh = Dungeons and dragons
Jizz = Jazz music
Wailer = Singer (ie. Jizz Wailer)
Cantina = Bar or Pup
Para Sailing = Paragliding
Aurebesh = Alphabet
Credits = Money
Sleeping Pallet = Bedroll
Naming Day = Birthday
Youngling = Child
Galactic Basic Standard/ Basic = English
Medkit/Medpac = First aid kit
Hypo = Syringe
Medic/Healer = Doctor
Medcenter = Hospital
Bactapatch = Bandaid
Nanoweave = Fabric
Transparisteel = Glass
Plastifoam = Packing material
Durasteel = Steel
Plasteel = Plastic
Duracrete = Concrete
Slicer = Hacker (slicing = hacking)
Identikit = Passport
Minder = Therapist
Synthleather = Vinyl
Viewport = Window
Cooling Unit = Air-conditioning
Honeydarter = Bee
Slythmonger = Drugdealer
Spice = Drugs
Stimpill = Caffeine pill
Power Socket = Plug
Cutters = Scissors
Cycle = Day
Standard Cycle = 24h
Standard Week = 5 days
Standard Month = 35 standard days
Standard Year = approx. ten months
Tenday = literally ten days
Cigarras/Smokes = Cigarettes
Click = Kilometer or 'a moment'
Parsec = a unit of distance
Tweezers/Clanker/tin head/tinnie = Droid
Separatist = Seppie
Promise Ring = Wedding Ring
Body Glove = Jumpsuit
Slicksuit = Wet suit
Civvies = Civilian clothing
Carbonite = a metal alloy used to freeze a person in a state of hibernation
Hyperdrive = device that allows a starship to travel faster than lightspeed
Moisture vaporator = device that can extract water from the air, commonly used on tatooine
Glareshades = Sunglasses
Gasser = Gas Oven
Repulsorlift = technology that can create an anti-gravity field and is used for levitating heavy objects
Heating unit = Heater
Utility Droid = Roomba
Sunbonnet = a Clone trooper helmet
Bad Batcher = a defective Clone Trooper
Banthabrain = birdbrain/ a stupid person
Bantha fodder = waste of space/nonsense
Blast! = word of exclamation
Blasted! = s.o in anger or annoyance
Blaster-brained = dimwitted
Blaster fodder = cannon fodder
Blast off = Piss off
Brainless = Stupid
Bug/Bugger = used to refer to Geonosians
Forceforsaken = godforsaken
Full of Poodoo = full of shit
Poodoo = Shit
Kriff = Fuck
Jedi scum = derogatory term for jedi
Kark = derogatory expletive
Larty = LAAT/i gunship
Laserbrain = insult
Meat droid = derogatory term for Clone Troopers
Redrobes = Palpatines guard
Rookie/Shinie = newly recruited Trooper
Scum = insult to refer to bounty hunters/rebels
Sharpie = Sharp-witted
Sithspawn/Sithspit/Hellspawn! = expletive
Sleemo = Slimeball
Son of a bantha = insult
Wizard! = Cool
Spaced = dead
Hutt-spawn = Bastard
Karabast = exclamation of dismay
Stang = Crap
Buckethead/Bucketbrain = derogatory term for Stormtroopers
Bucket = Helmet
Nat-born = Natural Born
Roger Roger = affirmative/copy that
Droid poppers = EMP grenade
Sitrep = short for situation report
Backwater Planet = any planet that isn't part of the core system
Holocron = device that can project a three-dimensional image of a person/object and is used for communication or entertainment.
Kessel Run = a risky Operation. Commonly used as a metaphor in impossible situations.
Thermal Detonator= device that can create a powerful explosion like a grenade or bomb
Ray Shield/Energy Shield = creates a (protective) barrier
Rebreather = device that allows a person to breathe underwater or in toxic environments
Phrases:
Wild goose chase = wild bantha chase
That's bantha shit = that's bullshit
As slippery as a greased Dug = untrustworthy
Credit for your thoughts = penny for your thoughts
Cut the poodoo = cut the crap
to get your gills in a twist = get upset about something
Holy mother of meteors = holy mother of god
Oh my skies/ Oh my stars = exclamation of surprise
Stars' end! = exclamation of disbelief
What in the blue blazes = exclamation
When Geonosis freezes over/When it snows on tatooine = extremely unlikely
Who pissed in your power supply = who pissed you off
Blast it = damn it
By the maker = exclamation of surprise
Great karking Dragon = expression of disbelief
Lothcat got your tongue = equivalent of 'cat got your tongue?'
Sod it = expression of frustration
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cool patrat facts:
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My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.
[id in alt text]
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i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.
it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.
it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)
it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.
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Wait a minute. Wait a minute. This line hits differently after S2.
You two?
The Antichrist KNOWS ALL ABOUT THEM?
What did he do for them that he told them so confidently not to worry about their future? What did he change while he was in God Mode editing reality? WHAT DID ADAM DO?
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ೃ⁀➷ THIEF! ★
Based off this ask by @raphuna-nekomada !!
The first time, Neuvillette brushed it off as if nothing had happened.
He spent the entire morning looking for his dedicated Monday bow, black with silver intricacies that you personally picked out for him many years ago.
"Must be a sign from the universe not to go into work," you hummed from the bed, rolling over and inviting him back under the blanket. He hadn't indulged you on Monday, instead opting to use his Tuesday ribbon and huffing about how he would find the missing article later.
The second time it happened, he was suspicious.
Two days in a row his ribbon had gone missing, now his Wednesday ribbon had been used for Tuesday. It irked him, and while he had no other reason to suspect that you were the culprit, the way you beckoned him back to bed again flicked a switch in his mind.
Ultimately, he hadn't indulged you on Tuesday either.
The third time it happens, he saunters up to your side of the bed immediately.
"My love," he calls, and for a moment you think he hasn't caught you because he's lacking any sort of stern tone— the kind he would address Wriothesley with.
"Yes?" You peer up at him with a glimmer of mischief, clutching something to your chest. His eyes narrow and he kneels onto the bed beside you.
"Have you seen my ribbon?"
"I haven't."
"Are you sure? I'm certain I left it on the dresser last night."
"You must be imagining things, dearest."
You give him a sly, lazy smile and that's when he knows you're nothing but a terrible liar. He nearly scoffs in your face, leaning down closer so he can look at you with a hardening expression.
"And what exactly is your ploy here? Would you like me to wrestle it out of your hands?"
Your eyes widen in surprise for a moment before you laugh, clearly finding his suggestion humorous. "Would it keep you at home longer if you did?"
The gears turn in his head at your words, slow realization washing over him as you blink up innocently. (Feigning innocence, actually. Poorly.)
Ah, so that's what this is all about.
"You want me to stay home?"
A beat of silence. "And if I said yes?"
"You know my answer." Yet he hasn't pulled away, gotten off the bed, and left for work like he does every morning. In fact, you're pretty sure he's drawn a couple inches closer to you.
The fabric you stole from him suddenly wraps around the back of the neck and you rein him in until he's hovering just above you, arms and legs caging you in on either side.
"Got you," you sing quietly.
His gaze flickers down to your lips and then back to your eyes. "You got me," he repeats in faux defeat, swooping down to capture you in a kiss.
He starts to think that maybe a day off wouldn't be the worst thing in the world, but he has more than one trial today and there is no one to fill his role in his absence.
Still, Neuvillette decides that he can come to a compromise if only to hold you like this before his busy day. Besides, if he didn't indulge you now this would never end.
"Ten more minutes."
"Ouch. Stingy."
He smothers you under his body so you'll stop talking.
© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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Types of AO3 Summary
Option 1 - The Excerpt:
The quickest, the easiest! Find a section of your fic that contains the main premise of said fic and also showcases your writing. Copy paste that into the summary box. BOOM! Done.
Best used for any fic, unless it's so short the excerpt would be the whole fic.
Option 2 - The No Frills:
Just a description of the fic. No need for drama. No need to complicate matters. Keep it simple, keep it safe.
Example:
"A short character exploration of Blorbo's thoughts after Daisy leaves."
Best used for short fics, poems and fics where the style/format is more important than the plot. Or fics that tie directly into a scene/episode from canon or another fanfic.
Option 3 - The Hook:
Draw the reader's interest by giving them a set up with no conclusion. Introduce the main character(s), introduce the status quo, describe an inciting incident, leave a question in the reader's mind.
Example:
"Blorbo is a barista at a coffee shop, struggling to pay their bills, but after handsome rockstar Obrolb walks into their coffee shop they find that they have to decide whether a chance at love is worth the cost of fame."
Best used for mid to long fic where there's a strong premise and follow through. Especially good for AUs. Can be expanded for more complex plots or used multiple times in one summary for multiple characters or subplots.
Option 4 - The Sitcom One-Liner:
"The one in which [over simplified description of one of the main plotlines]" This is essentially 'boil your plot down to the very simplest statement you can, oversimplify if possible. The more bizarre or unhelpful the better.
Example:
"The one in which Blorbo learns to like cake".
Best used for fics with at least a little humour in them.
Option 5 - The Rule of Three:
Three is a magic number. Find three key moments in your fic and just list them. That's it. Often ends with 'not necessarily in that order' if used for comic effect. If it's an AU, establish that quickly (i.e. 'Star NHL player Blorbo…').
Example:
"Blorbo makes a friend, falls in love, and almost burns to death, not necessarily in that order."
Best used for anything, really. Three is a magic number. The human brain loves things that come in threes.
Option 6 - The Trope Lure:
Why bother describing the plot? We all know AO3 readers are here for the tropes. Similar to The Sitcom One-Liner just using tropes instead of plot. Often followed by the phrase 'that nobody asked for'.
Example:
"The Space western / A/B/O / Mail Order Bride fic that nobody asked for."
Often tacked on to the end of The Hook or The Excerpt as a tl;dr.
Best used for fic that plays its tropes straight with no shame or second guessing.
Option 7 - The Pre-emptive Strike:
(Not recommended) You just wrote this fic, the self doubt is consuming you. You feel the need to apologise profusely for your existence for no apparently reason. You feel cringe, you think the fic is cringe, you want everyone to know that you think the fic is cringe in case they don't like it and judge you for it.
Example:
"So I fell in love with this pairing and had to write this. It's weird and terrible. Lol! I suck at summaries! Sorry!"
Best used for no fics ever. I cannot stress this enough.
(Seriously, I am begging you, don't do this. If you're planning to use this option, rethink it and do one of the others. I guarantee you more people will want to read your fic.)
Sometimes added on to any other summary as a strange disclaimer. (srsly. don't.)
Option 8 - The Unapology:
Embrace the mayhem, embrace the deep dark depths of your soul. The opposite of The Pre-emptive Strike. A combination of The No Frills and The Trope Lure that truly gives no fucks.
You have committed crimes and you are proud of them. You know what your USP is and you're going to make sure your target market finds you. Look upon my works, ye readers, and despair!
Example:
"There aren't enough tentacle fics in this pairing, so I had to write one myself!"
Best used for fics with controversial/polarising tropes with all relevant details already clearly stated in the tags.
Option 9 - The Interrogation:
What if you wrote a summary entirely in questions? What if your readers had to read the fic to discover the answers? Who knows what will happen if you do this?
Example:
"What happens when Blorbo McBlorbo gets his wish and Daisy doesn't make it to the plane on time? What happens when Obrolb finds out? How will this change Daisy and Blorbo's friendship?"
Best used for... I honestly don't know. This style of summary does not vibe with me. Mystery fic maybe? Sorry guys.
Option 10 - The Multipack:
Got a bunch of shorter fics in one work? No way of summarising them all without a wall of text larger than the Great Wall of China? This one is similar to The No Frills in that you're not describing the plots themselves and similar to The Trope Lure in that often broader genres and tropes are mentioned. What links those fics? Are they all in the same fandom? The same pairing? The same challenge? Just slap that right in the summary. A chapter list with 1-2 word trope/pairing summaries can be included or not.
Example:
"A collection of Blorbo/Daisy/Obrolb fics based on Tumblr prompts.
Chapter 1: Regency AU
Chapter 2: Werewolves vs vampires
Chapter 3: Ghost!Daisy
Chapter 4: Space pirates!"
Best used for (obviously) works that are compilations of fic.
Option ? - The Void:
I said The Excerpt was the quickest and easiest summary to do. I lied, well... I didn't exactly lie. What is quicker and easier than not having a summary at all? After all, that's what the tags are for.
Example:
Best used for... nothing? Write a summary, guys. Please?
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Anytime my friends see me reading
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OK hear me out
OFMD Temeraire Fusion AU. Izzy is the dragon.
There is a one-line reference somewhere in one of the books to “pirate dragons,” so this is practically canon already!
Izzy is probably a little courier-type dragon, so he fits on the Revenge (and Ed’s old ship).
Unsure whether Ed captured his egg in a raid, or he was a military dragon with an abusive Captain (like poor Levitas, but nowhere near as patient with it) who defected to Ed during a fight. (Maybe Ed killed the other Captain, who was in the process of doing something mean/hurtful to dragon!Izzy at the time?)
Ed doesn’t know that dragons are supposed to be codependently fixated on their Captains. (Maybe someone on the Revenge does know this, and It Explains A Lot.)
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Hey fanfiction writers: If no one's ever told you this before, it's not just fanfiction.
It's something you spent hours, days, maybe even months on, pouring your heart out onto a page because you were so full of passion and thoughts about a story or characters, you felt like you were going to explode if you didn't get it out. Maybe you lost sleep because your mind was racing with ideas or you forgot to eat or drink water because you were so focused. Maybe your back aches from being hunched over for so long, unmoving. Maybe you even felt like you were going a little feral because you were so excited about what you were creating, or were frustrated when you got stuck. Either way, you put your heart, mind, soul, and body into making something.
It's okay to want people to read it, and it's okay if you're disappointed that they don't or it doesn't get as much of a reaction as you were hoping for. Humans are social creatures. Sure, we write for ourselves, but we also share because the joy of doing so is just as powerful as the joy of the process. Of having created something.
We all experience that joy and that disappointment, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
So it's okay. It's not just fanfiction.
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Dead on Main AU
Masterpost
Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!
~~~~
Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane.
“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?” He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.
The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room), starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?”
Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”
And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.
“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.
“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”
And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in.
“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…
“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.
“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting.
“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”
“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right.
“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?
“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him.
“I have to get home.” Danny breathes.
“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”
“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”
“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”
Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”
“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-”
“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.
“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.
“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”
“Amity Park.”
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"what are you doing," eddie mumbles in confusion, hair fanned out on steve's pillow, the moonlight streaming in giving him a hazy halo.
there's a hand on the side of his face and it's cupping his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin. it's soft, so soft, too soft. another hand is trapping his against the mattress, fingers trailing over his forearm before tangling into his own and squeezing tight. it's gentle, so gentle, too gentle.
eddie isn't soft, eddie isn't gentle. eddie isn't making love in a full size bed with wallpaper that matches the drapes. he isn't fluttering kisses in time with fluttering heartbeats and the fluttering wings of butterflies trapped in his stomach like the most lovely cage.
eddie is fucking at 2am when there's enough intoxication to make him look like he's worth it. he's rough and wild, quick and easy. a means to a barely wanted end because he's there and willing and with long enough hair to let people imagine he's someone else.
he should be caged instead of the damn butterflies. he bares his teeth and thrashes his limbs just to fight and see what he can get away with. he laughs loud and brash in the face of sweetness just to see anger, just to see hurt.
he has half a mind to think he's a feral animal that's hardly been trained, performing in some fucked up circus that charges two bucks to see him snarl and hurl insults at anyone who passes by. he bites at the hands that try to touch, try to feed, proving to the onlookers that he's only worth the pocket change they pay to see him.
but steve. he's holding his face like he wants to, holding his hand like it's the most important thing in the world. he's pressing kisses along eddie's jaw without any hurry, without any rush, kissing just to kiss. feeling just to feel. he's like a ray of goddamn sunshine even in the darkness that midnight provides, warming eddie from the inside out.
eddie wants to run. he wants to scream. he wants to feel like he's allowed steve's soft and gentle but he's-
"is this not okay?" and now steve's looking at him with all of whatever he's trying to give him lacing into his face, his eyes and spit slick lips sparkling in the moonlight like a shiny new toy. "do you not like it?"
concern and care are different sides of the same steve shaped coin and if eddie looks hard enough, he can see them blurring together in his frustratingly beautiful sparkling eyes and those damn butterflies start to come back.
"no, it's-" he let's out a sigh, relaxing his tight muscles and sinking into the bed, sinking into whatever steve is willing to give him. "just different, is all. good different, i think."
steve smiles and eddie shakily mirrors it back, before he's ducking his head again and slotting their lips together, fingers still holding tight to eddie's, still cupping his face like it's something precious.
eddie's come to terms with the taste of the metal bars of his cage, teeth wearing down as he tries to bite his way to freedom. maybe this time he'll let himself get used to the taste of soft and gentle smiles if it means loving steve.
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