When the Mistress made me she was full of angry things, that’s why so am I.
She pulled red threads over skin too tight and she couldn’t turn me, so all the ugliness I was supposed to hide was out for all to see. Like little crisscrossing scars. But that’s alright.
She messed up my head a little bit, stitch, stitch stitching. She fixed it as much as she could, and in the process she found pause.
She looked at me, me, for the first time. And sighed.
She rubbed her eyes and let go of me almost completely, and I thought she would forget about me.
But she didn’t.
She put more gentle things in me this time. Not for the sake of the enemies of our Kingdom, but for mine. So I wouldn’t feel so alone.
Instead of nails she gave me a hawthorn berry for a heart, and soft, soft cotton.
And then she brushed her thumb across my cheek and clothed me.
“Why?” The others said.
“So he feels no cold.”
And then she gave me a sword, the only sword, and I felt special.
“Why?” The others asked.
“You never send a soldier to war unarmed.”
She pressed her lips against my forehead and her warm air filled my head.
“A witch’s kiss is a blessed thing,” they said.
She tugged on the seams of my pepper filled legs and the rosemary in my chest swelled. Maybe the mint in my cheeks blushed, but just a little bit.
She gave me hematite so my will would be strong and shiny, and then she whispered it was my duty to look after the Junglegreen.
“Protect us all, my brave little soldier.” And before she left she turned and over her shoulder blew me a final kiss.
This is my mission!
There are no other soldiers. I’m the one and only. I protect the Junglegreen and the Mistress day and night. I march between the Pottedplants and am a diplomat with the Faepeople, I see who can visit the kingdom or not, depending if they’re good at heart.
When the Mistress made me she didn’t have to love me, but she did.
I feel like the batfamily siblings have this "code of honor" which insists that if you're caught lying or getting involved in someone's life without specifically being invited (because they're all nosy detectives) then you are allowed to Slap that person.
Like they have a ceremony where they list the wrongs done and that "all these transgressions shall be absolved and wiped from further considerations of the sibling relationship and not brought up again in the future with a single slap. please take your positions."
And so the slappee has to stay still while the slapper prepares the Slap. The rules are:
1. No dodging
2. No kicking
3. No biting
4. No future vengeance
The slapper rules mainly involve discretion (the force of the slap should not overstep the nature of the crime) and there shalt not be any other slapping tool other than the Hand.
The scoreboard is ordered thus: Dick (35), Tim (18), Damian (12), Jason (9), and Cassandra (3).
Don't let his size fool you. Tim slaps as HARD as he can. Jason got pissed about that and the next time he was issued to Slap he slapped Tim with such a force Tim flew across the room. Other than that time, Jason is actually pretty fair in making sure the Slap fits the crime. Damian is a little asshole and scratches when he slaps because "if [he] doesn't draw blood it's not a worthy attack."
Cassandra is legit terrifying because one time she slapped Dick and he blacked out (even though she insisted she didn't even slap him that hard) so they make sure they don't mess with her.
Dick is pretty gentle with his Slaps--generally. He'll slap Jason pretty hard because nobody manages to piss Dick off like Jason does (once an annoying little brother, always an annoying little brother) but refuses to slap Damian, instead opting for spanking (which Damian is infuriated about, and insists he be slapped the same as the others). When Dick isn't being gentle, he gets really creative: one time he slapped Tim on the mouth and was like "betcha won't lie now, huh" and Tim was near tears. However, Dick gets slapped a lot so he doles out his slaps accordingly.
(I know we know they said no future vengeance, but that's just there to make them feel better about themselves. There is vengeance. Lots of it.)
So far Bruce has not been inducted in The Slapping Ceremony, but Jason always suggests doing it every MOWS meeting (Meeting-Of-Wayne-Siblings). He was beyond affronted when Stephanie revealed during a MOWSA meeting (Meeting-Of-Wayne-Siblings-and-Associates) that she had already slapped Bruce.
"Hard?" asked with a hint of bitterness.
"Very hard" said cheerfully.
haha yeah my favourite part of choi was when Alastair realized he deserves to be happy and didn't push Thomas away and Thomas decided that he didn't care about what the merry thieves thought and decided to be with Alastair because he made him HAPPY and they both lived HAPPILY EVER AFTER
Had a dream that I'd been kidnapped by a bunch of Lokis for... some... reason, they weren't very forthcoming about it. And I was just like 'sure okay', and Siege!Loki was all 'why aren't you worried? we could kill you if we wanted to', to which I was like 'my dude, you greatly overestimate my will to live', which pretty much just got a 'fair enough' consensus.
Anyway, I'm just hanging out playing Skyrim while they discuss (mostly argue, really) what they're gonna do, and at some point I'm complaining that I'm hungry and King Loki's like 'so?', and I threw my controller at him and scolded him about proper treatment of hostages, which AOA!Loki found absolutely hilarious. Siege!Loki decided we'd go get ice-cream, ostensibly because it was literally the closest food-related thing nearby (it was practically across the street from where we were). MCU!Loki was like 'pretty sure that's not what human typically eat for dinner', but Kid!Loki shushed him because ICE-CREAM???, and Siege!Loki was like 'dammit we're going, it's decided', and I think he just wanted ice-cream but didn't want to admit it, but I wasn't gonna embarrass him by calling him out on it.
So, off we went to the ice-cream place, but it was closed, so naturally we just just broke in and helped ourselves. I mean, we left some money on the counter, but I'm pretty sure it was stolen money, so I dunno if that really counts? Anyway the cops showed up, and we noped the fuck outta there via portal because nobody really felt like dealing with them, and I never did find out what all the Lokis wanted with me because that's when I woke up.
i’m strung out like words, an open book for you to read (wolfgang/kala, sense8, 2k)
Wolfgang meets a girl on a train. (AU, no spoilers)
“Excuse me. Is this seat taken?”
Wolfgang startles, sees the woman peeking in through the sliding door of the compartment. Dark skin, bright eyes, periwinkle sundress; her shoes probably cost more than all the clothes on his body.
She’s smiling, cautiously optimistic, worrying her lower lip in a way that makes Wolfgang’s chest feel tight for reasons he can’t explain.
“No,” he says, shifting closer to the window. The gun tucked beneath his waistband presses cool against his lower back. “No, there’s room.”
Relief spreads across her face, fast and dizzying. “Oh, thank you.” She slips into the compartment, lugging a black and white striped suitcase behind her. “I was in a different compartment, but a man—” She makes a face, a quirk of her lips that makes Wolfgang want to laugh. “A man I would prefer not to spend more time with decided he would join me.”
She smooths her skirt before sitting on the bench opposite him, brushing her hair behind her ears. And even though there’s no good reason for it—even though letting her in was arguably enough of a mistake—he leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees.
Dex knocks his shoe against Nursey’s thigh and then sits down next to him on the grass. It’s a nice day, nicer than most they’ve seen recently. Finals loom with the end of term. Dex will be going back to Maine, Nursey to New York, then a bunch of other places. He smirks when Dex brings it up, says, “I’ll send you postcards, Poindorkster,” and Dex plays his part, scowls and looks away.
“You ever read a book and get, like, residual emotions?” Nursey doesn’t look at Dex when he says it. He’s staring at something farther off on the Quad and Dex doesn’t have the mental capacity to figure out what it is, specifically.
He thinks about it. “I guess.” He glances at Nursey’s bag, splayed brokenly against the crushed grass, a closed book, cover faced down, spilling out from its top. One of the libraries-- not a science one, so Dex doesn’t frequent it often-- gives out little bookmarks, usually scratch-and-sniff ones. They make them go along with the seasons. A bright strip of yellow lemons rest next to the book, shaking in the breeze like an echo of something that might’ve been really good.
Nursey fidgets, his feet rolling, his finger clenching and unclenching in the ground. He nods his nod jerkily at the finished book. “A character died. The others dealt with it and shit, you know.”
Nursey likes big words, the fancy kind with hidden meanings and roots tracing back centuries and aesthetics. But in some moments, careful quiet ones when it was just the two of them, he favors the short-tongued severity of singular syllables, the easiness of swiftly-ended sentences. They’d always communicated better without the words, anyway.
“So now I’m left with this big, like, ache in my chest, youknow?” He sighs like he can disturb the stillness of the hot air with his own breath. “It’s like, I’m mourning something I didn’t even lose, and I’ve got no way of fixing it ‘cause it’s all in my head.”
Dex looks across the Quad, thinks of the summer awaiting him of postcards and quiet and distance. “Yeah,” he says, and it disappears with the wind.