Beginning Of Calamity Mu Qing

Internal conflict writing ideas

Not everything has to be fight scenes

—Losing something of emotional value and remembering its history and why it’s important to the character

—Reliving a traumatic event

—Running into an old friend who’s either completely changed since they’ve last seen each other or far too similar, leaving the character to wonder about how they’ve matured and grown compared to this other person

—Internally deciding if they should voice a fear or concern to the group, even if they might look silly or ridiculous doing so

—Friends vs family in terms of choosing who to follow and listen too

—Feeling unqualified to work on a project or be apart of the adventure

—Romantic feelings for someone they shouldn’t and dealing with how they should proceed internally. (THIS MEANS RIVALS OR FORBIDDEN ROMANCE. NOT ANYTHING ILLEGAL!!!)

—Thinking about mortality and death after being reminded of an late friend/family passing

—Being less talented at something years later when they used to be the best in that field

—Finding an old photo that carries much more emotional significance now than it did X years ago.

Honestly I think the fics where Danny’s a Kryptonian have a lot of potential, so here’s me throwing my hat into the ring

Danny was born a human. He was born to two loving (though slightly neglectful) human parents in the painfully mundane state of Illinois.

Then, he died, but he didn’t do it right. He became a Halfa; too alive to be a ghost, but too dead to be human.

Then, through strange, uncontrollable circumstances, that changed as well.

He had been heavily injured, missing a large percentage of body mass, and was at the cusp of either dying fully or just fading from existence.

(Perhaps it was an ordinary fight. Perhaps it was the GiW, or his parents. Perhaps it was a simple accident. That didn’t matter now.)

He fled, phasing through the ground, trying to bury himself as deep as possible.

(Perhaps he didn’t want to be unmasked in death. Perhaps that was already too late, and he just wanted his body be able to rest in peace.)

Unfortunately for him, he was in Metropolis, and ended up in a secret genetics lab below the earth.

Danny detransformed, completely exhausted, falling onto a table covered in different labeled specimen containers. He closed his eyes, and prepared himself for what would happen next.

And… nothing.

Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes.

Danny sat up, brushing off the foul-smelling liquid from the specimen jars, petri dishes, and assorted vials.

He felt…fine.

No, better than fine. He felt normal. Healthy.

He felt like he wasn’t missing most of his internal organs anymore.

Danny looked down at his stomach, and saw that the wounds that were killing him had completely disappeared.

(The blood blossoms, if there had been any, were still there, but they no longer hurt. At most, they itched a little, or maybe just tickled a bit.)

He wanted to question what in the hell had just happened, but he didn’t want to jinx it. He just quietly changed back to Phantom, going invisible and phasing out of wherever he had found himself in, ignoring the loud alarm system that had begun to blare when he broke the samples on that table.

Life mostly went back to normal after that.

If, like Danny, you ignored all the physical changes in a valiant effort to remain in denial that something was horribly wrong.

His skin was tougher, now; he didn’t get scrapes or cuts, even when he accidentally fumbled a knife while trying to cook. His ghost form was stronger, too; he was barely knocked down by his old rogues anymore.

He could fly, even in his human form. Though, admittedly, the flight was much different. It was like using a muscle he hadn’t known existed beforehand. He didn’t just ignore gravity or wind resistance, though he felt more graceful in the air now than he ever did as Phantom.

There were more powers popping up, lasers and cold breath, x-ray vision and super strength. His lungs and heart were larger, and he could handle temperatures much easier. He didn’t have to transform to handle the pressure and cold of space anymore.

His reaction time had improved, becoming much faster than ever before. His senses were much stronger, and he had even seemed to gain a sense of electric fields, like a shark.

The only thing that separated him from a Kryptonian was that he had developed electrokenesis, which he had never seen any of them use on TV.

So, surely, he was fine.

Everything was normal, he hadn’t been transformed by alien DNA in a sketchy lab, he had just had a really weird and specific metagene activation.

—

Clark Kent, Kal-El, was panicking.

It had been around a month and a half since a particularly brutal fight between Intergang and an unknown assailant, and it seemed that Intergang was determined to draw out whoever had scorned them.

Their method of doing this, of course, was trying to level the city.

He and Jon were doing their best to stop them, but with both Kon and Zor-El away on their own business, it was difficult.

And by difficult, he meant almost impossible.

Slowly but surely he was driving them back, but not without massive amounts of damage to the city, especially with only Jon on dedicated rescuing duty.

He was distracted, trying to draw a group away from a heavily occupied building, when a projectile hit him in the back of the head.

The world spun for a moment, and then it went black.

(It was, probably, then, some sort of Kryptonite-metal alloy. Intergang at its finest.)

He woke slowly, forcing his eyes open. He felt like he had been hit by an eighteen wheeler.

Clark jolted up, preparing for the worst.

To his shock, though, the city hadn’t been reduced to rubble while he was out.

Jon seemed to still be working on evacuation, either unaware that he had went down or forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

Then, a lightning-quick figure flew into view, and Clark’s mind went blank.

He thought, for a moment, that Kara was back. But, no, that wasn’t right, she was supposed to be off-planet for another week or so.

Besides, this new figure didn’t move like her. They were lankier and more slender, and they flew quicker than any member of his family.

Their powerset was different, too; they focused mainly on using blasts of ice and electricity to drive enemies back, only occasionally using their strength or lasers—ones which came from their hands instead of their eyes.

He had woken up at the tail end of the fight, it seemed. The remaining Intergang members were fleeing from the mysterious metahuman.

They stayed in the sky, motionless, watching them leave.

As if they could sense him staring, they turned.

They were small, still clearly young. Probably around Kon’s age, or maybe even younger.

Instead of the colorful clothing he had inherited from his family, the stranger wore black and white clothes which looked similar to a hazmat suit, their face covered by some sort of gas mask.

Interestingly enough, instead of the S-shape crest that he was so used to seeing, the stranger wore the letter D on his chest.

Kal’s heart sped up.

From up in the sky, he heard the stranger’s heart, on the left instead of the right, speed up in return.

But before he could say a word to them, they sped off, disappearing into the deep blue sky.

I think that one of the things I like about Liushen is how on Shen Qingqiu's end, that's his relationship with the least amount of baggage, and on Liu Qingge's end, it's got the most.

Shen Qingqiu: good old reliable Liu-shidi!

Liu Qingge: we were enemies for decades, I thought you tried to kill me, you saved my life, now I'm questioning everything I ever thought I knew about you, it's like you're a completely different person, or maybe I just never understood what was really going on, who are we to one another now, I wouldn't dare to dream of kissing you under the moonlight except maybe I would

Danny Fenton, a new receptionist at Wayne Enterprises:

Vicky Vale, knowing Danny Is Not Ready for her: So, where does Bruce Wayne leave for during his meetings? A new woman? Man? Trouble in the family?

Danny "Town Menace Phantom" Fenton, done with Genderbent Wes Weston: To fuck your mom.

Bruce's experienced receptionist that left for 6 seconds: okay, Danny no--

Danny, who knows something's up with the Wayne family: and your Dad, because we support the LGBTQIA community. Thank you and leave.

Danny is at a Ghost Hunting Convention in Gotham with his parents. He hates his past self for thinking that going to Gotham was a good idea.

He's in a tank, full of water, with a curtain draped over it as the Joker waxes poetic about how Batman is too late and blah, blah, blah.

Danny has bigger problems than Batman's pissing contest with Joker.

His parents are on the outside of the water tank he's been stuck in for the last twenty minutes. As a Halfa, he just stopped breathing, no big deal.

But they don't know he can do that.

He needs to do something so that they don't think he's a ghost, and going intangible is out because, obviously, that would make him a ghost.

...Hadn't Clockwork said that his status as a Halfa made him...flexible? On what he looked like?

That meant shapechanging, like Amorpho.

It would be really, really hard to explain, but also, better than being mistaken for a ghost.

He squeezes his eyes shut, hopes he doesn't come out of this looking like a horrifying version of clayface, forces himself to change.

The skin on his neck ripples, his legs fuse like when he's in his ghost form, and the sensation is so strange he gasps...and he can breathe.

The curtain is still over the tank of water.

Danny is glowing.

There are freckles that are glowing a soft green that dot his arms and...tail.

He's a mermaid. Merman.

Well.

Maybe he can say it was a recessive gene?

When your Character...

Gets into: A Fight ⚜ ...Another Fight ⚜ ...Yet Another Fight

Hates Someone ⚜ Kisses Someone ⚜ Falls in Love

Calls Someone they Love ⚜ Dies / Cheats Death ⚜ Drowns

is...

A Child ⚜ Interacting with a Baby/Child ⚜ A Genius ⚜ A Lawyer

Beautiful ⚜ Dangerous ⚜ Drunk ⚜ Injured ⚜ Shy

needs...

A Magical Item ⚜ An Aphrodisiac ⚜ A Fictional Poison

To be Killed Off ⚜ To Become Likable ⚜ To Clean a Wound

To Find the Right Word, but Can't ⚜ To Say No ⚜ A Drink

loves...

Astronomy ⚜ Baking ⚜ Cooking ⚜ Cocktails ⚜ Food ⚜ Oils

Dancing ⚜ Fashion ⚜ Gems ⚜ Mythology ⚜ Numbers

Roses ⚜ Sweets ⚜ To Fight ⚜ Wine ⚜ Wine-Tasting ⚜ Yoga

has/experiences...

Allergies ⚜ Amnesia ⚜ Bereavement ⚜ Bites & Stings ⚜ Bruises

Caffeine ⚜ CO Poisoning ⚜ Color Blindness ⚜ Food Poisoning

Injuries ⚜ Jet Lag ⚜ Mutism ⚜ Pain ⚜ Poisoning

More Pain & Violence ⚜ Viruses ⚜ Wounds

[these are just quick references. more research may be needed to write your story...]

Birdritch what? Part 7

masterpost

It was warm.

That was the first thing that Danny noticed as he started to wake.

Danny didn’t sleep warm. Too often if it was too warm, Danny would wake up and have to push aside layers of bedding or shed clothing. Cooling sheets, heat wicking pillow, and light pajamas was the way for Danny to sleep best. He felt oddly rested despite the heat.

It was also heavy.

That was the second thing that Danny noticed.

Maybe he fell asleep with the weighted blanket on the couch?

Except that didn’t feel right.

His couch wasn’t that firm. His couch didn’t snore and his weighted blanket didn’t have arms. Yeah, okay, yep. Someone definitely had their arms wrapped around Danny, tucking him close to their very well defined chest and under their chin. Someone else, a much smaller someone, was tucked close to Danny’s elbow and breathing softly.

What the fuck did he get up to last night?

And why couldn’t he remember any of it?

Someone else mumbled something sleepily. That was three at least, four counting him. Maybe five with the soft, breathy snore? Danny stayed as still as possible and tried to mentally retrace his steps.

He had been at work. Right, Lucius had sent him home since it had gotten late. Danny had gotten food and headed home. He must have gone through Ivy’s park, it would have been the closest way…

…and that’s all.

He couldn’t remember anything after that.

There were flashes of fear and burning lungs and that deep-seated need protect, but over all of that there was a sense of belonging. No, belonging was quite the right word. It was less that he had belonged but more like he had found the missing pieces that had belonged to him.

As much as the snatches of feelings were coated with good, Danny couldn’t help the panic that settled in his chest. He didn’t remember. He should remember, being what he was. Why didn’t he remember? Why hadn’t he just gone ghost? Why did his bones ache like he had gone ghost? If he had he should remember.

Fuck, what sort of rogue shit had he gotten dosed with in the park?

The hand on his chest pressed down purposefully.

“Breathe.” The voice was low and rough, heavily with sleep over a deep gravely timber.

Danny wanted to say that he was trying to breathe, thank you very much whoever the fuck you are, but all that came out was a little wheeze of air.

“Okay. Here’s my other hand. One squeeze for yes, two for no.”

A large, calloused hand slipped into Danny’s, twining with his own scarred and bandaged fingers. Danny gave the hand a squeeze.

“Has this happened to you before?”

One squeeze.

“Often?”

Two.

“Is this an allergic response?”

Two quick squeezes.

“Asthma?”

Danny hesitated before giving three squeezes. He could hear other people starting to stir now, but kept his eyes stubbornly closed. He wasn’t ready to actually deal with the people he had fallen asleep with. Besides, it was hard to hear over the beat of his own heart.

“…No, or more, not yet?”

One firm squeeze.

“Panic or anxiety attack then?”

One hesitant, embarrassed squeeze.

“Alright. I am going to sit us up. Lean back against me and follow my breathing.”

Danny tried not to whimper as he was shifted. He failed.

“I’ll get a damp towel,” another voice offered quietly.

Fuck towels, Danny wanted his pain meds. He must have not taken them last night and now everything was stiff and tight. Forget breathing, Danny just wanted to stay curled up in the blanket and not move. Maybe everyone else would leave wherever they were and Danny could just go ghost and slip out of there without dealing with any of this.

“Relax,” the low voice rumbled.

Danny would have cussed them out if he had the voice to.

The board chest that Danny was resting against took an exaggerated breath. Danny struggled to try and follow it. It didn’t seem like he was getting out of breathing, damn it. An ice cold cloth suddenly pressed against his neck, startling Danny enough to suck in a breath of air.

“There, keep that up,” the main voice instructed.

Danny pinched the fingers still closed gently around his in retaliation.

Someone else, more feminine sounding, laughed while the person behind him let out a slightly amused huff. “I know you know. Now your body just needs to know.”

Danny pinched them again, though to their credit they didn’t pull away their hand. Which was… sorta nice. As much as Danny was sulking about it all, the comfort of a hand in his was nice. The calloused thumb rubbed gently over that web of skin between Danny’s thumb and pointer fingers in a pattern that Danny worked to match his breath to. Finally Danny figured he needed to brave opening his eyes.

He wasn’t in a hotel.

Or an apartment.

Or any sort of room.

No, he was in a cave. As suspiciously well furnished cave completely with a grouping of vigilantes watching him curiously.

“Well, at least it wasn’t an orgy,” Danny grumbled.

He heard someone trip further into the cave.

Part-spirit tiger LQG assumes most cultivators have spirit animal ancestry or made pacts or otherwise have inherited traits.

He can smell the severe and constant stress on SJ, but assumes SJ is bullying other disciples. LQG's solution is of course to fight SJ himself so SJ can let out his aggression in a more appropriate way.

Everything is the same until the mission where SJ saves LQG's life. His instincts and SJ's bearing tell him that SJ tried to kill him, but he smells stress giving way to relief so he just asks if something has attacked his back.

Since SJ saw LQG's initial expression, he was ready for a fight and is somewhat flat footed. He couldn't says that obviously something was attacking LQG's back, what else was sj going to do, give him a hair cut?

Sadly this piques LQG's interest and he starts following SJ around even more and finally catches SJ being bullied. Worse, he realizes SJ's 'den' is the woodshed.

LQG interferes with the bullies and SJ just about loses it because this is going to make everything worse and LQG off handedly says that they can't afford to offend the Liu family even if they think Shen Jiu's relatives won't care

SJ's reaction to that (along with other things over the years) makes LQG realize SJ isn't in fact some prissy young master.

So LQG makes it his mission to get SJ to throw away the facade and show his true self. SJ would rather kill him, thanks.

LQG does start correcting SJ's social faux pas though is dicey bc sometimes SJ does know and messes up on purpose for strategy and LQG gains real appreciation for his insight. LQG also gives SJ a bunch of cultivation boosting and stabilizing pills bc it's no big deal for him to get them and maybe SJ didn't know to ask?

That starts a gift giving war where sj gives things he thinks will be insulting and LQG thinks they've started courting.

(it's ace4ace but LQG wants to sleep together cuddled up and purring. SJ still isn't sure LQG knows what sex is)

Some tips for using a few words to describe voices:

1. Tone Words: Use tone words to convey the emotional quality of a voice. For example, you can describe a voice as "melodic," "soothing," "sharp," "gentle," or "commanding" to give readers a sense of the tone.

2. Pitch and Range: Mention the pitch and range of the voice. Is it "deep," "high-pitched," "raspy," or "full-bodied"? This can provide insight into the character's age, gender, or emotional state.

3. Accent and Diction: Describe the character's accent or diction briefly to give a sense of their background or cultural influences. For instance, "British-accented," "Southern drawl," or "formal."

4. Volume: Mention the volume of the voice, whether it's "whispering," "booming," "murmuring," or "hushed."

5. Quality: Use terms like "velvet," "silken," "gravelly," "honeyed," or "crisp" to convey the texture or quality of the voice.

6. Rate of Speech: Describe how fast or slow the character speaks, using words like "rapid," "slurred," "measured," or "rambling."

7. Mood or Emotion: Indicate the mood or emotion carried by the voice. For example, a "quivering" voice may convey fear or anxiety, while a "warm" voice may express comfort and reassurance.

8. Resonance: Describe the resonance of the voice, such as "echoing," "nasal," "booming," or "tinny."

9. Timbre: Mention the timbre of the voice, using words like "rich," "thin," "clear," or "smoky."

10. Cadence: Highlight the rhythm or cadence of speech with descriptors like "staccato," "lilting," "rhythmic," or "halting."

11. Intonation: Convey the character's intonation by saying their voice is "sarcastic," "apologetic," "confident," or "questioning."

12. Vocal Characteristics: If applicable, mention unique vocal characteristics, like a "lisp," "stutter," "drawl," or "accented 'r'."

Shen Yuan is, of course, a sweetheart of a cat that is totally, entirely, wasted on that acerbic Peak Lord who named him.

That is, of course, until a demon attack on the sect includes the use of True Heart Vial Rose and shows exactly what Shen Yuan is thinking.

Which happens to be rampant and increasingly creative expletives as he hisses, batting fiercely at the downed demon.

"Fuck your mother!" the cat yeowls, scratching at the demon's eyes. "You dogshit, peh! Curse your family! Your ancestors and descendants should feel shame having you in their bloodline!"

He quickly changes gears as he runs over to Shen Qingqiu, rubbing against his legs. "Jiu-ge, Jiu-ge~ That thing is filthy! Hurry and salt this wretched corpse lest it spreads some sort of miasma!"

Shen Qingqiu is, of course, more than a little pleased to do exactly that.

Shen Yuan, it seems, is utterly unaware of the fact his thoughts are understood. It doesn't help that he doesn't actually understand much of human speech (yet), so even if he's understood, he can't do the same for them. And that means he's very honest about whatever he thinks at all times.

"Is this supposed to be a gift? It's crude. It's bloody. It's exactly the kind of thing that dogfight Bai Zhan Peak would consider a prized possession. Its liver should be impeccable for qi restoration, and its bones, once in a fine powder, can help heal meridians. It's a good gift. Jiu-ge should take it." It's that commentary over the large corpse sitting outside the bamboo house that A) helps Shen Qingqiu realize it's not a threat and B) realize who it came from.

Also, apparently the cat has some sort of instinctual knowledge of beasts like itself. How curious.

"Going out of their way to misunderstand. Hmmh. Don't mind them, Jiu-ge. They aren't worth the effort. A waste of space and breath, they are."

The Peak Lord can't help a little laugh as he agrees, watching the cultivators accosting him turned red in the face at being dismissed by a cat.

"Aiyah, what am I going to do with you..." He purrs softly as he helps Shen Qingqiu calm from another, increasingly infrequent qi deviation. "You can't keep getting hurt like this. If you can't stop, I guess this Yuan will have to watch over you for as long as I live."

If Shen Qingqiu starts looking into how to help a cat become a spiritual beast after that, well, that's no one else's business.

"Jiu-ge cultivated demonically first. Of course cultivating the spiritual way only will cause an imbalance! Qi is qi, none is good or evil on principle, just like people and demons. Jiu-ge should keep using demonic cultivation to balance his energies! Fuck Wu Yanzi, there's tons of demonic cultivators better than even those from 'righteous' sects!"

If Shen Qingqiu begins improving in leaps and bounds, well, that's also his own business.

By the time Luo Binghe arrives, Shen Qingqiu is much more settled in himself and doesn't bother spiting Liu Qingge by taking a promising, fluffy-looking child on the day to pick new disciples. Though, Shen Yuan starts trailing over to Bai Zhan to go stare at the child, and in turn, Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge end up spending more time around each other...gross.

"Aaa Jiu-ge, don't be so shy. You clearly brought that Thousand Silver Teardrop Tea to help Qingge-ge through his bottleneck. Why act like this, ah? You're so hopeless. I suppose this cat will have to keep you company forever. Haaah."

Well, there are times he mildly wished A'Yuan would shut up. But his thoughts do end up getting the other peak lords to relax more around him.

Liu Qingge, having heard the cat's thoughts time after time, starts talking to Shen Qingqiu and treating him better. Repulsive. Do it more.

--

Anyway, I just thought this would be cute.