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#i pulled this out of my drafts
auriellethenymph · 7 months
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The Ancient Scriptures
[Long ago, there lived a great being who created many worlds life thriving through their veins, the stars in the night sky would sparkle in their eyes, as the light from the sun and moon glittered in her hair. Yet her skin that must not be caressed by mortal hands for fear of tainting the creator, they welcome us low creatures with love and warmth, touching us as frail creatures that may break.
Our dear creator, whom we shall protect, whom shall we respect, whom shall we go when we pass. The creator shall be forever known in our hearts, minds, and blood. For they have given all, as they wait for the loyal to return to her side filled with love and warmth forevernore.
Their heavens welcome us who are tainted, imperfect, and flawed. Punishing those who have went too far, burning in the gates of misery and despair, in the dark depths of eternity.
For the creators words "All my creations may be flawed, but it's their flaws that make them perfect. Those who may be absent of flaws and imperfections, you needn't worry, for I love each and everyone of you equally. Every inch of grass and moss, to every roaring sea and waves, to every wisp of fresh air, to every light that shines down, to every fire that burns with passion, to every cold snowflake that sparkles, the every crack the ground has- my creatons shall have every ounce of love I have in my heart."
Years later, the creator's children came down and was simply shocked at the war that was happening, and told the creator what had they witnessed, and the creator was hurt.
They came down, letting their presence known, seeing the seven archons who have survived. They did not show themselves, only heard and felt. "I have seen what has happened and am disappointed, but I applaud you for survivng the cruel and harsh war. I wish for you to not repeat this history of war, for the next I shall not be able to handle. I have been pained by the deaths of my creations and what the Sustainer of the Heavenly Principles have done. I shall be asleep as my children will watch all of you, show them the same respect you show to me. For their eyes shall be mine, the actions will have been on my will, with many purposes they shall help, but remember, take advantage or hurt them, you shall all be gone."
And that is the last message from our beloved creator. We shall tread carefully, as if her children has arrived, pray that they will stay, for they are within them. Be kind, respectful, and honest, and you shall be welcomed in the gates of the creators heavens.
-This was copied from the ancient scriptures written by the archons. And have been confirmed by the Dendro Archon, Electro Archon, Hydro Archon, and Cryo Archon.]
As Lumine read the book about her mother/god she smiled. 'Ah... Mother is respected in the world. I'm still not sure about it due to The Sustainer of the Heavenly Principles, i think it would have been fit to call home..'
TBC
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fxreflyes · 2 months
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“tumblr mutual” beloved friend I would pick up at the airport if y’all visited my home city
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starry-bi-sky · 3 months
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fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ
(First Post Here and Second Post Here
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Danny finds Sam easily.
She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 
("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)
("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")
(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")
(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")
("Thanks, Danny.")
He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.
Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.
His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 
(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)
Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."
"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.
As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.
He wasn't that arrogant.
...Anymore.
"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.
"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."
Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"
Danny immediately frowns.
"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."
Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.
Oh.
Danny knows that tone too.
Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  
Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.
But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 
Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.
It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."
She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."
"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."
He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.
"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."
Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."
She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."
"Such violence, Sam."
He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.
Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 
He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 
"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"
As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 
Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."
Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.
He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."
"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."
Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.
(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)
(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)
(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)
(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 
He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 
They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 
He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 
When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 
Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 
“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan
He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 
Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 
Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 
Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 
“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 
Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 
Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 
There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 
His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 
Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”
“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 
“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 
Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.
Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpdc#dpxdc crossover#danyal al ghul au#older brother danny#first danny pov of the au! whoo!#danny's hair turns white if he drinks ectoplasm brrrrr and his eyes turn green. good for him#this sat in my drafts for the last few days until i finally finished it during class#it was a math class and i already knew the material so tis fiiiine. now i just need to finish my CFAU post rewrite :)#ectoplasm tastes like that time i went to go get pepsi from the soda machine and it was all out of the pepsi flavoring so instead i got a#cup full of carbonated liquid. it was disgusting. ectoplasm kinda tastes like that. sometimes.#danny smiles in this more than i thought he would but yk it fits. he IS more smiley around his friends and family.#ectoplasm is a weird non-newtonion fluid and danny is fascinated. its got the consistency of egg whites one minute and then water the next#its a water slime and then suddenly its as brittle as annealed glass. it heats up and rots like milk or it heats up and boils like water#it congeals. it thickens. it boils. it solidifies. it does whatever it wants. it gels and melts into a tar-like substance#how long has damian been standing there? good question. :) i almost had him open the door and make eye contact with damian before falling#backwards. i also almost had it be *bruce* and damian opening the door bc bruce found out that damian pulled a knife on sam and was gonna#have him come apologize. that would be a fun scene. prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact prolonged eye contact#imagery brrrr. had fun playing with how danny's ghost form works. if anyone has seen a video of steel wool burning thats how i imagine#danny's ghost transformation to be like.#also ayyy balancing danny's dialogue be like “how fancy should he sound and how Normal Teenager Should He Sound”#when sam gets home she catches tucker up to speed about everything including the convos with the waynes she had and they both form the#'“Fuck Them Waynes” squad. Sam has jumped to the entirely wrong conclusion about danny's separation from his family but in her defense.#it is a pretty sound conclusion to jump to considering the lack of context she has from danny's prior home life. which is almost none at al#so to her it looks like danny got abandoned by bruce wayne
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egoarc4de · 6 months
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homecoming
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xinyuehui · 8 months
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“宫、商、角、徵、羽” Gōng Shāng Jué Zhǐ Yǔ · The pentatonic scale in Chinese music
"Gong Shang Jue Zhi Yu" was first documented in the Spring and Autumn Period more than 2600 years ago. The five tones are the basic scales of Chinese ancient music. Compared to the seven-tone scale of Western music - minus the semitone ascending "fa" and "si", Gong is roughly equivalent to 1 (Do), Shang is roughly equivalent to 2 (Re), Jue is roughly equivalent to 3 (Mi), Zhi is roughly equivalent to 5 (So), and Yu is roughly equivalent to 6 (La). In the Tang Dynasty, “合、四、乙、尺、工” "Hé Sì Yǐ Chǐ Gōng" were used.
云之羽 My Journey To You · 2023
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bittersweetresilience · 3 months
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so do you think he succeeded?
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peachypunchy · 29 days
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the reason Chip doesn't have his tiddies out is because it's before he got his top surgery and the video would've been taken down from youtube if the Chipddies were in the thumbnail.
he got top surgery in Edison Kingdom if you care. trust me, Chip told me himself.
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butch--dean · 10 months
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Thinking about Dean during the Stanford era just before everything went down going to see Brokeback Mountain in theaters. He heard whispers about it but would deny that he knew anything about it if anyone had been around to ask. One night he sneaks into a theatre in a mid-sized town (not so big that it would be busy, not so small that he would stand out). He buys tickets for a different film and sneaks into a late-night showing, and makes sure to sit in the back so he can avoid the judgmental gaze of other patrons (they're not judging you, Dean, they're here for the same reason you are).
Thinking about Dean watching the slow-building yearning and the casual displays of intimacy and affection between Jack and Ennis during their summer ranching. Thinking about how they both go on to get married and have kids but continue to feel so deeply dissatisfied with their lives. Thinking about their reunion 4 years later and a kiss so frenzied that it bruised their noses. Thinking about twenty years of back-and-forth, of yearning for something one of them is too afraid of have. Thinking about the heartbreak of “I wish I knew how to quit you” and “sometimes I miss you so much I can’t hardly stand it” and "it's because of you, Jack, that I'm like this," and "there ain't ever enough time." Thinking about Dean silently breaking down during Ennis' call to Jack's widow, and again when he enters the closet of his lover's childhood bedroom to find a relic of their relationship, hidden away in a dark corner. Private. Loved.
When Dean left the theatre, he was a changed person - heartbroken for something that, in that very moment, he couldn't name within himself. I think that he carries the story with him throughout the series. Eventually, he is able to name that heartbreak - of loving someone so completely but never being able to say it. Of fearing what others would do if they knew, of having someone but never allowing yourself to actually have it.
Of course he sees the comparisons to be made between Cas and him. He sees what his insistence in believing in Cas, even when his gut tells him otherwise, means. He understands what is being left unspoken in long, drawn out gazes and crooked smiles. He knows that their post-death hugs and late nights spent chatting with each other while watching the old westerns that Dean loves mean so much more than they pretend.
I think that over the years, Dean would return to the film and re-mourn the loss of Jack. Over and over, on nights when Sam is out late researching in an archive and Dean knows he has a few hours alone. He has a torrented copy (because he can't risk the physical evidence being found, even after settling into the bunker). I think that Charlie probably downloaded for him, because of course - she knew. Maybe she slipped it in a batch of movies Dean requested from her, with a few of her own added in for good measure. He regrets never having the chance to thank her for that.
After Cas dies and goes to the empty, Dean hangs the jacket with the bloody handprint on the inside of his dresser door. He stands there and thinks about Ennis finding his and Jack's bloody shirts intertwined in a hidden spot in the back of his closet, together, after his death. Dean stands, staring at the jacket, heartbroken. He thinks about loving and losing and never-really-having. Of letting yourself bask in the sun, shining on your face. If he can't have Cas, he wishes that the universe, or Chuck, or whatever, had at least seen fit to have left him with Cas's trench coat to protect on the inside of his stained jacket. But it (or he) didn't, all he has left is the relic of his not-lover's handprint, marked in blood.
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auriellethenymph · 6 months
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Katara, a skilled waterbending master from the mystical world of Avatar: The Last Airbender, found herself in a perplexing situation. After a fierce battle with an ancient water spirit, she was unexpectedly sucked into a swirling vortex, transporting her to a world unlike any she had ever known.
Gasping for breath, Katara opened her eyes to a bustling cityscape filled with towering buildings and futuristic technology. Confused and disoriented, she stumbled upon a large screen displaying images of individuals with extraordinary abilities. Her eyes widened as she read the words flashing across the screen: "My Hero Academia – The World of Quirks."
Determined to navigate this unfamiliar world, Katara quickly discovered that a majority of its population possessed unique superpowers called "Quirks." Intrigued by this concept, she sought guidance and enrolled in the prestigious U.A. High School, renowned for nurturing young heroes.
In her first few days at U.A., Katara's extraordinary skills as a waterbender captured the attention and awe of her classmates. Although she initially struggled to comprehend the intricacies of Quirks, her unyielding determination and disciplined training allowed her to adapt and excel, earning the respect of both students and teachers.
During her time at U.A., Katara also met an enigmatic classmate named Shoto Todoroki. With a striking appearance and a complex personality, Shoto was one of the most powerful students in the school, possessing the ability to control both fire and ice. As Katara spent more time with him, she sensed a deep pain and conflicting emotions within him, mirroring her own experiences.
As kindred spirits, Katara and Shoto began to confide in each other. The weight of their challenging pasts drew them together, sharing their battles with self-acceptance and the struggles they had faced in embracing their powers. Intrigued by Katara's waterbending abilities and her unwavering strength, Shoto found solace in her presence, and a romantic connection blossomed between the two.
But their blossoming love faced tremendous obstacles. Katara was desperate to find a way back to her own world, where her responsibilities as the waterbending master of the Southern Water Tribe awaited her return. As much as she longed to stay with Shoto, she couldn't ignore the duty she felt towards her people.
Meanwhile, the pressures and dangers of life at U.A. intensified. Villains and treacherous adversaries targeted the school, testing the abilities of its students. Katara found herself thrust into numerous life-or-death battles, using her waterbending skills in unprecedented ways to protect her newfound friends and herself.
Amid the chaos, Katara and Shoto's love for each other remained a source of strength. They supported each other through the darkest of times, finding solace in their brief moments of togetherness amidst the turmoil. Their love became a beacon of hope, reminding them of the beauty and resilience that exists even in the harshest of circumstances.
As their journey unfolded, Katara grappled with the decision she knew she would eventually have to make. Should she continue to fight for her place in this new world alongside Shoto and her fellow classmates, forsaking her own homeland? Or should she find a way to return to her Avatarverse, leaving behind the love she had discovered with Shoto?
Ultimately, Katara's heart led her to a choice.
With tears in her eyes and a heavy heart, she bid a heartfelt farewell to Shoto and her friends. Promising to never forget the love they shared and the lessons she had learned, Katara mustered the strength to step through a portal, returning to her own world.
But true love has a way of transcending dimensions, and as the years passed, Katara and Shoto never forgot each other. Through letters and dreams, their connection remained unwavering, a testament to the power of love.
And as their worlds continued to evolve, Katara and Shoto's story became a legend, inspiring generations to come, reminding them that even across different worlds and through the most challenging of circumstances, love endures.
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half-oz-eddie · 4 months
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Billy's on top of him, and he's sweating like crazy. Steve can feel Billy's cock rubbing against his as he moves to the rhythm of the song.
"Wanna take me to the bedroom, pretty boy?" Billy asks, seductively biting his lip when he feels Steve's hands gripping his sides.
"Uh-huh." Steve nods, grinding up against Billy, uncertain if he can even make it upstairs. "I think—I think I want you right here."
Billy chuckles and leans into his ear. "Not a chance in hell."
Steve groans disappointedly, his hands sliding down to grasp Billy's ass cheeks. The urge to tear his briefs off nearly taking over him.
Steve stands, lifting Billy and rushing to the bedroom, nearly falling up the stairs like a dumbass, eager to get him onto the bed and fuck him until they both pass out.
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bucoliqves · 16 days
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13 years after the events of the book ivan is a somewhat famous journalist, probably due to some controversies. he's rushing off home after a dull work of editing.
he's been feeling overall depressed in the past few weeks. he's trying to write down the great inquisitor once and for all, but deep down he's concerned about the critics and his own skills. mitya and grushenka are nowhere to be found, alyosha is up in the mountains teaching little kids the abc. he's got no friendly faces in moscow.
he sighs and takes a turn, when all of a sudden he bumps into someone coming from the opposite direction. he ends up on the ground. the first thing he notices are flowers - yellow flowers scattered on the ground. then an all-too-familiar scent of milk and honey. the stranger apologises, lands out a hand, and before his eyes look up his heart has recognised her.
her face seems more tired, a few silver strands peek through her hair, but her charm hasn't left her. katerina is still as beautiful as the day he'd left her. screw the articles, he thinks, and in a matter of seconds he's invited her for a drink.
they catch up, talk about family business and reminiscence the past. she's married. they've been trying for a child but no use. he's all by himself in a big apartment on the sadovaya. seldomely gets visits, never from the people he'd like to see. some things are just meant to be this way.
she's read one of his articles. two, actually. maybe three. perhaps a bit more. there's even a possibility she's cut them out and kept them at the bottom of a drawer next to her bed.
well, if she knew he was in town all along, why didn't she drop by to say hi? they hadn't left on good terms. to be honest, their last goodbye was pretty cold - almost indifferent. she thought reaching out for a stranger was not right. and quite frankly, she was still way too prideful to make the first move, though she never would've admitted it. they were older now. one would expect them to be wiser too.
how about they try again?, he proposes. two seconds later he's already regretting it, but he decides to blame it on the alcohol he's barely touched. she seems hesitant, so he promises to show her a secret project he's been working on as a proof of their renowned friendship.
he leads her to his apartment and she's the second witness ever of his cursed poem. she reads the first page and he's sweating like a sinner in church. she makes herself at home and sits down on the divan, completely immersed. at page five she stops. could he read it out loud for her? it'd be much more impactful. matter of fact, why doesn’t he turn this into a play?
ivan doesn't answer, just complies. she's back with her tortures, but he can't understand why. when he's done he's almost afraid of looking back at her. she's staring at him in awe. she's always known he was one mess of a genius. to think that she'd always despised chaos... what exactly did he do to her?
he should turn it into a play, that's her final statement. a wonderful play with splendid costumes and the best actors of moscow. she can help with the money. she can even help with the editing. it feels good to help, to see right through and not to look away - and this time it's not martyrdom, no. it's something more genuine to inspire her. it's almost love.
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zivazivc · 1 year
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This is a selection of shows that I think would at least somewhat make sense if they crossed over with Miraculous and make an interesting special. So basically stories that take place in the modern "real" world and where the lore and rules of the world wouldn't completely break/clash with ML's (I think... I haven't seen most of these shows in a while 😅)
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Rafi : Tim, why aren't you sleeping?
Tim : sleep is for the weak
Rafi : no, that's wrong. Unable to fill your needs is the loser, like, you're so desperate to get your life better you can't even fulfill your basic needs? Unless you're in bad situation it means you're a loser.
Tim :
Tim : I'm leaving
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hangsawoman · 1 year
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in an earlier draft of hill house the attraction between theodora and eleanor was actually acknowledged and discussed …..
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ashersanity · 4 months
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(anon that asked about johan) thanks for calling me based because ill carry the johan train if i have to, like if he has no fans then that means im dead. i would give johan poppies and be super niceys to him and stay in the asylum just to keep seeing him. we will be asylum friends…….
ok no more playing innocent LMAO. if he was a li and i had his love stat high enough i would sneak into his room just to fuck ngl. the other patients would be pissed about the noise for sure. he can drug me with the scent aphrodisiacs or whatever they are too idgaf id enjoy it. though would it have addictive qualities like the nectar of the plant people/strange flowers??? i need answers i will eat all of johans lore
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Recruiting more Johan fuckers as if they were his bitches.. I already got two mutuals utterly obsessed with him by now and it’s only growing.
A patient makes their way over to you, craning their neck to usher into your ear, pointing at one boy in particular amongst the crowd of other patients babbling away. “That one’s Johan.” White haired, soft angelic features with half-lidded eyes, his gaze is fixed on the window, droplets of rain pitter pattering rhythmically against the glassy surface before trailing over, two different colored eyes locking with yours. Blue and green. “You should stay away from him. He’s real bad news.” Almost as if he’s heard, his pink lips curl into a smile, gentle and welcoming(?) Something about him makes your stomach tighten, uneasy. | + Stress | + Trauma
Shitty rambles under cut. Move along.
content warning! somnophilia?, exhibitionism?,
Nice strategy, he does prefer nicer people over meaner ones like whatever the fuck he had going on with Whitney which I wholeheartedly agree on your decision. Get that motherfucking bitch, make him pay twice, no, ten times as fucking hard than before. As funny as it is to be a certified Whitney fucker, I will support my dear son, Johan, to get his ass like he deserves to. Offer him all the poppies you want, based anon. He’d gracefully accept with that same gentle smile on his face, tucking the velvet plant away in his pockets if they even allow those at the asylum.
Forgot to mention though. Unlike most patients that reside in such a place, Johan’s room has been specifically moved over to one that isolates him from everyone else, especially tight on security there so it’d be nearly impossible to break into his room at night. He’s.. a special case as determined by Harper themselves, knuckle nudging their glasses up their nose bridge whenever they are to visit the white haired boy, ready for another one of their sick experiments. The doctor has already developed an obsession for him due to his.. interesting behaviour, thoughts, and of course, peculiar transformation.
On the other hand though, expect Johan at high enough lust and love, to be the one slipping into your room instead, aching cock jutted against the front of his pants as he settles himself on top of you. I’d say that he’s no better than Asher in terms of horniness though he seems to have a lot more of self-restraint which makes him all the more terrifying if you ask me, hyper aware of each and every action he makes. Yeah, wouldn’t bother waking you up either from that point on, flushed tip of his cock snagging against your hole as he slides himself inside you with a reverberating groan, clamping down onto your shoulder to muffle his sounds. If you were to awaken by chance however, he’d simply shush you up with his own lips, hungrily pressing against yours, tongue pushing through, sickeningly sweet words whispered into the shell of your ear. Master manipulator.
At low enough sanity and a combination of high lust, he might even participate in obscene acts such as fucking you straight up in front of the other patients, holding one of your legs up over his shoulder as he fucks into you. Cause quite the scene and commotion and that’s just what he wants, turning this messed up place upside down, driven by chaos. Fucked up little shit would even just break into Harper’s office, assuming to be where they keep their mic to announce certain things to the others. Yeah? Mic open, intercom running as he just has you pressed up against the wooden surface, grip tightening on your hips and leaving fresh bruises behind, wanting you to shamelessly moan out his name. Probably huffs a laugh under his breath once the guards come in mid-way, stopping the whole thing at once but he did have his fill. Think he simply likes to piss Harper off at every turn, really, including the feel of your tight hole wrapped around his throbbing length while he does it.
As for his tentacles.. Yeah.. they’re lethal, oozing slimy aphrodisiacs straight of the tips but he still hasn’t gotten used to his transformation, unsure how to fully utilize them. Once he does, he’s sure to take advantage. To expand upon more if the interest is still there.
P.S : Johan’s cock is bigger than Whitney since I said so.
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