#if not then he's just gonna wreak havoc which would also be acceptable

[cosmics-beings]

oh im gonna be cheering when skywarp suddenly comes back and tells Thundercracker what starscream did and the two of them commit the most grotesque mutiny against him

#starsceam #skywarp #thundercracker #it nEEDS to happen #i love skybound starscream #and i think it would be a fitting end for him #if not then he's just gonna wreak havoc which would also be acceptable

[dcafpaperback]

Harry is a homie's homie

I'll explain. I was scrolling through my own blogs and I came across a lot of posts appreciating Harry's friendship with different characters, each one unique in it's own way. And I realized exactly how fluid and accepting of a person Harry is. Surely he judges first, but once he gets a whiff of the good (despite of all the flaws or how he or she is commonly perceived by everyone else) in a person he is like 'aw alright you're gonna be ma friend and i will protect you with my life'.

Hermione- ah yes the bossy, domineering, ocd nerd who thinks she is too good for everyone. Also she is a muggle-born, often insulted and ridiculed by the pureblood community. making friends with her would mean being academically overshadowed and getting into brawls with other ppl to defend your friendship with a mudblood. who would want all that trouble ? harry here was initially deeply annoyed by her presence, but later, actively recalls that she has to be saved from the girls' washroom when the troll was wreaking havoc. he becomes friends with her. then she becomes his main bitch basically. he stood by their friendship even when during his 4th year Skeeter was trying to manipulate him into believing that he has a thing for her due to his 'pangs of adolescence'. he never feels insecure by her academic brilliance, admires and respects the fuck out of her, surely is weary of her lack of quidditch knowledge but never drags her for it, defends her fiercely whenever necessary, trusts her with her decisions, even appreciates her beauty but not with a single a tone of romantic interest. he literally loves her like a sister which she gladly reciprocates. (and ofc there's ron who marries her)

Ron- forever compared to his older brothers, insecure, had great potential but was always made to feel like he had none by the people around him, also is financially weak. Harry here starts their friendship by literally buying an entire snacks trolley for the both of them. he never underestimates his academic state unlike his own mom, never makes fun of him in general unlike the twins, never gives up on his quidditch skills even when the entire team was dissatisfied with his performance. remember when one time it was before a match ig and ron performed badly during practice due to his nervousness, it was like a 'funeral' environment inside the common room. none of the members approached ron to comfort him, except for harry. he is the only who still believed in him, fought people to keep him as keeper, used the placebo effect (pretending to mix felix in ron's drink) to pull the best out of him. when ron was made prefect harry did feel envious for a moment. but he quickly matured up and remembered all the reasons why ron should deserve the position and congratulated him. he didn't question it or acted perplexed by it like the rest did. he gave the twins his triwizard money and the first thing he asked them was to buy ron proper dress robes but not tell that it was his idea. also ron is the one he would've missed most (4th year) and did miss most when he was in the muggle world. yes his fame made ron insecure but harry as a person never did anything to make him feel that way.

Luna- eccentric, the weird girl, loner. harry was not really keen to be friends with her at first and yet he remained polite towards her and didn't constantly make fun of her or her father's magazine like ron and hermione. when luna supported him while the whole world thought he was a liar, he acknowledged her and warmed up to her. when he got to know that she too lost a parent, he resonated with her. later he would mention in books 6 and 7 that he had great affection for her, and genuinely thought she was cool and worthy as a person. he never tried to deny the fact that she was his friend just because it would be embarrassing for someone like 'harry potter' and was grateful to have her by his side during his crazy missions. he even took her out for a date at Slughorn's party and didn’t even feel self-conscious for it. everyone laughed at this decision of his except for him (and ginny). his and luna's friendship is my hands down my favourite.

Neville- not that bright, nervous and innocent, constantly bullied or picked on, has a dark secret about his parents. when harry got to know about neville's parents, not only did he relate to him but he felt even more sorry for his parents' fate than his own. he understood that neville's pain was as worse as his, having parents and yet not having them got to be a tough thing to handle. he respected the boundary and didn't disclose this personal detail to anyone so that neville would be in a uncomfortable position until ofc it was inevitably revealed in the hospital. even then he was trying to divert everyone's attention so that neville doesn't get startled. supported him whenever he felt like he was not good enough, trusted him with big responsibilities unlike authoritative figures, nurtured his confidence and was proud like a dad of his improvements in DA classes, told him he was worth 10 malfoys and was always on his toes to beat anyone's ass who bullied him. and also always focused on what neville was capable of rather than what he was not of.

Fred and George- the troublemakers, the disappointments of the family. harry could tell them apart and actively invested in their business what more do I have to point out. also his internal monologues about the twins clearly tells us how much he loved and appreciated them.

Fleur- constantly sexualised, objectified. her worth was always brought down to solely her face. harry did think she was beautiful but not in an obsessive or degrading way. he acted normally around her, treated her like a normal person, never insulted or called her names, or tried to hit on her time to time and acknowledged the fact that she was more than just her beauty. he was least effected by her Veela charm which allowed him to see her as a worthy and skilled witch. surely he found her cringe at times (I mean spoon feeding your fiance at the family dinner table c'mon) but he never voiced that out and was always extremely composed and respectful towards her.

I mean, for a guy who didn’t have any ideal examples of companionship in front of him while growing up and also 0 parental guidance, he was an incredibly kind and supportive friend to everyone he cared about. A true homie's homie.

#harry james potter

[argisthebulwark]

Most of what I’m seeing whenever I open tumblr are skyrim and bg3 content. So now an idea of crossover between the two has been planted in my head.

What if LDB got transported to BG3 world, retaining their powers and along with their things (armor, weapon, potions etc.). Whether they also become Tav in this world or not is undecided. So, LDB goes with the bg3 party and becomes a hero of their world as well, helping their companions with their past and all. Until another threat, this time involving LDB’s past. What if Miraak, angry and mad when the LDB was taken from him, found a way to get to bg3 world and wreaks havoc there as he looks for LDB?

Sorry, just wanted to kinda vent and share this idea with you since you’re one of my fav fic writers. Just really want to share it though if you like it and want to make it into a fic, that would be wonderful. Sorry if this comes out like I’m requesting but am really not.

YESSSS god i'm only on act 2 of baldur's gate and i want to do something big when i finish and can do it well but this is such a cool idea. i'm gonna share some of the notes i have laying around about this subject below the cut because i don't wanna potentially spoil any bg3 content.

"Where are the cultists?" "Which ones?" "The cultists that were just chasing me!" "Do you mean the Absolute?" "No! Miraak's cultists." "I have no clue what Miraak is."

The Dragonborn stomping their way through the forests with three strangers in tow, clueless as to how they ended up in such a place but willing to accept help. Bombarded with strange terms in every conversation, accepting weapons with unknown enchantments and clothed in armor visibly different from their companions.

They'd get sick of correcting people - they don't know what a drow is. They're a Dunmer and they know nothing about living underground.

"What school of magic are you trained in?" "School? It's destruction magicka, it just comes naturally. I read a book once I think." "You must be very powerful to obtain such a spell merely from a scroll." Gale purposefully ignores their pronunciation of magic. "Sure. I am a very powerful mage. Let's stick with that."

None of their companions know anything about the Thu'um. Or Alduin. Or anything. The Dragonborn stumbles trying to find some link between their worlds but there is nothing tangible, nothing that ties them to home. They resign themself to solving their friends' issues, acknowledging that the only way out must be through.

Meanwhile Miraak scoures every inch of Tamriel in search of the Last Dragonborn. Something had gone horribly wrong during their return from Sovngarde - the portal had opened and closed yet no one came through. He's frantic, concluding that he needed to step through the portal on his own.

Rumors of a new threat, one of unfamiliar power reaches their little party just as they're relaxing after another job done. The Dragonborn is still aware that something had gone wrong but they'd grown comfortable, learning that they liked having a camp to return to when the world became too much. At home in Skyrim they had houses but those were filled with generals and employees, stewards and political figures. Their camp is cozy, companions bickering and sharing food as day wore into night.

Miraak tearing through the Forgotten Realms in search of the Last Dragonborn, worry and rage fueling every step. Outright ignoring unfamiliar laws and summons from strange gods he ventures on, clinging to every rumor of a mysterious dark elf. There's horrible tales of tentacled monsters that remind him of Mora and Miraak fears that the Dragonborn has been taken hostage, surely they're imprisoned and need his help.

Miraak's powers would terrify Faerun, powers unpredictable and fueled by an unknown entity. He leaves a trail of destruction in his wake as he rushes from villages and towns seeking his Dragonborn. He follows stories of an elf who can Shout louder than the gods, frustrated that he's always just a few steps behind.

Miraak would probably meet them somewhere in the Shadow Cursed lands, whether it's Mora's protection or his lack of attachment to this world he finds that the shadows welcome him instead of plaguing him. He skulks through the dark in search of his Dragonborn, too many stories pointing him in the same direction for it to be coincidence.

When the Dragonborn and their friends finally confront this mysterious threat that's been stalking them, warded and high on an assortment of potions, they stop in their tracks. Facing them across the clearing is a mask they'd seen before, hands crackling with sickly green magicka. It's the first familiar thing they've seen since arriving. Miraak feels like home.

Their companions are stunned into silence when their new leader drops their sword, arms open as they bolt across the battlefield. To their horror their friend collapses into the arms of this villain, easily knocking the intimidating mask out of their way.

Gale would probably want to study Miraak. like a bug. Shadowheart would not be a fan i think. Karlach would think he's cool but in a kinda gross way - he didn't really need all those tentacle motifs, right?

these are just my silly little outline points, i'll def change as i get closer to finishing the game but you are so right anon these games need to be smooshed together. i need camp and romance systems with my skyrim men.

#bg3 spoilers #skyrim #miraak x ldb #writing #asks #anon

[captainswan618]

so I watched 5x09 the other day and I’m still in MASSIVE denial about Rory’s death 😭 he and Amy deserved to be happy goddammit!!! and instead she fucking FORGOT HE EXISTED, I am going to PUNCH A HOLE IN THE SUN

anyway I keep trying to make myself accept it, especially bc I have NO idea how they would manage to bring him back after that-

hold on while I was writing that I thought of something. the whole plot of this season is about that crack in the universe that erases things (which may also be the silence?? idk) and like. maybe when they fix that they find a way to bring him back somehow???? I’m really just grasping at straws here.

but that was gonna be my next point anyway. every time I try to make myself accept that he’s dead, some part of my brain goes BUT WHAT IF HE’S NOT and it is wreaking absolute havoc on my emotional state lmao

ANYWAY please no spoilers, I’m losing my mind but I don’t want to know what happens before it happens :)

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #I haven’t tagged that on anything else but it feels necessary on a character death post idk #rory williams #amy x rory #captainswan618 talks too much

[basil-the-middleground]

Very short drabble of sorts...

Kip had a schedule ahead of time when it comes to his streams, almost always on two days of Mondays and Fridays. He would just be gaming with friends, or goofing around with whatever was around him. Kip's voice sometimes would be shot at the end, and there would be lemon tea on the counter in the kitchen prepared to where all he had to do was pour the water.

Orange's stream is whenever, which doesn't surprise Kip one bit. He had some kind of a theme of watching retro shows and music videos, and the mood was calming. Sometimes he had snacks, and he would bring them with him to the streams. A lot of them would be new ones Kip wanted to try or did try and hated them.

It was rare that they both stream at the same time. When they do, it was usually enough chaos for both of their chats to really start going off. Sending raids over to each other channels, leaving comments that they don't pick up sometimes until they see the reactions to it. Orange's messages range from very sweet, throwing hearts and 'I love you's' to out of context words that leave the chat confused until they see Kip a stuttering mess. Kip's messages are just plain there to mess with Orange. He rarely gets him, but the few times he did was clipped to infinity.

These last few weeks in particular were interesting to say the least. The new terror of the Undisputed Kingdom has been wreaking havoc on all the champions, including the Intercontinental championship. This meant all of Orange’s focus has been going onto defending it more, and also meant more days of Kip nursing him as best as he could. 

Orange told him he was getting tired, and it felt different from the first time, more accepting of if he doesn’t come out as champion he was going to be ok with it. It was still gonna be painful to lose, but it wouldn’t hurt as much as the first time.  Either way, Kip still cursed Roderick Strong for being the so-called ‘Back Messiah”.  

Now it’s 4 days after Revolution, and a day where both of them were at home at the same time for the first time in forever.  Kip wasn’t really expecting a double stream today, but he also wasn’t expected a certain former champion to come around the corner 5 minutes into streaming with the blanket from the couch wrapped around him. So now Kip is streaming with a still exhausted yet clingy Orange on his shoulder. 

He definitely couldn’t game now. But honestly, he didn’t really mind.

#*shrugs* #first time writing for kip in general #this was WAY Longer and took a turn so sad I just dropped it into another doc and is saving it for another day #so...tada

[tobiasdrake]

Makoto's being cryptic, Yomi's being fascist, we're neck-deep in enemy territory with no plan beyond "DO THE IMPOSSIBLE SOMEHOW", someone's PROBABLY dead by now, and I have to deal with these two chuckleheads?

Gonna go hang out with my bestie instead. For moral support.

This is why the family cut her off.

OH MY GOD ME TOO. They're an entire family of internationally-recognized chronomancers, carrying enough clout that the Unified Government grants them complete authority over maintaining time standards around the globe. They not only cut Fubuki off from the family for some reason but specifically banished her to the World Detective Organization.

I would play a spinoff game all about these people. The central gimmick could be solving mysteries through time travel in order to unwrite tragedies before they happen.

Let's start with how maintaining time standards works.

It does, yeah. Basically, Fubuki's saying that maintaining global standards of time sounds more complicated than it actually is. Time ticks itself away; All we have to do is observe it. The Clockfords' job is simply about keeping everyone's observation on the same level.

They just make sure everyone's abiding by the Time Zones and nobody's clocks have slipped.

In the real world, this is all decentralized efforts undertaken by individual countries. Everyone decides for themselves what calendar to use and what time it is right now. That's why the Time Zone map is this jagged piece of shit.

Look at that. Look at how ugly that is. Decentralized time zones are an utter disaster. By cleaning all of this up and providing neat, crisp lines and universal standards, the Clockfords are providing a public service to the world.

...is one interpretation. Of course, going along with the uncomfortable implications of the Unified Government, all of that "clean-up" means tearing the autonomy of sovereign peoples to decide what time it is right now from their hands.

A universal calendar standard accepted across the globe sounds cool, but it also means erasing cultural standards of individual civilizations. Chinese New Year? What Chinese New Year. China has to celebrate the same New Year as everybody else. The Chinese calendar is banned.

In the name of smooth, crisp global efficiency, the Clockford Family is engaged in temporal imperialism.

The Clockfords can dictate that it's 2013 right now, and then everyone around the world has to adjust because the Time Emperors have deemed it so? That's fucking terrifying.

Rain Code spinoff where the Clockfords decide to turn back the dial five years. The game features a guy who was about to go celebrate turning 21 by having his first (legal) bar trip, but the Time Emperors decided he's 16 now. No beer and he has to start high school all over again.

So, naturally, he's out for revenge and to liberate the time standards of the world from their iron grasp.

We have granted the Time Emperors an unbelievable level of control over the stability of civilization so we could charge them with one scared duty: To prevent the Time Emperors from abusing their unbelievable control and wreaking havoc across civilization. Only the Clockford Family can defend the world against potential abuses from the Clockford Family.

Wait, they banished you to go die as a Master Detective because they want you to lead the family?

Logic would then suggest that maybe you haven't been told officially because they don't want you as heir.

They realized they fucked up, so now they're using the WDO as a remedial education instructor. Which. Is. Not what the WDO's job is. *sigh* Shit, now I feel bad about that "This is why they cut her off" crack I made at the start of this hangout. That is, in fact, why they cut her off.

Wow, I hate your parents, Fubuki. With a violent passion. You should run away and follow your dreams of being an adventurer and coffee barista. What adventuring party couldn't use a coffee barista with time powers?

Sure, your absence would fuck up their plans for the future of their time empire but. That's a good thing. So it's win/win.

I hate that you think that, bestie. You are a diamond and you deserve the world.

#master detective archives: rain code #drake plays rain code #fubuki clockford

[sonic-adventure-3]

okay what the fuck IS lost impact? the stage from shth05 takes place in the past, yet has two branching missions that lead to different stages. what gives? this is me trying to make sense of it. plus the routes that come after it:

after death ruins hero or mad matrix hero, shadow gets teleported to what looks like iron jungle where sonic meets him with a spaceship.

sonic tells him the black creatures are headed to space

“we” inclusive of at least sonic, tails, vector, and presumably literally everyone else, are headed to the ark

so “we” inclusive of sonic and shadow are going to the ark too

on the ship, shadow steals the chaos emerald powering the ship (rude), and alarms sound

shadow has a flashback to alarms sounding on the ark, and maria pleading with him to help her. to help the professor, and those aboard the ark. geralds experiments with artificial chaos have gone horribly wrong

shadow swears he’ll do whatever he can for the ark and the professor

lost impact time:

artificial chaos are wreaking havoc on the very much still functional and habituated ark of 50 years ago

the hero mission is to take out every single artificial chaos at maria’s request (deeply annoying mission btw), and the neutral mission is to get to gerald’s laboratory because shadow is worried about him

something interesting about all this, is that in idle dialogue shows that he’s at least partially aware he’s in a memory. meaning this isn’t something he’s just remembering having happened (which would make no sense with the branching paths), he’s actively re-experiencing everything.

this distinction is important cause it means the conflict of having a level set in the past have two endings is solved. there’s no finite account of what happened, he’s back there, making that choice again.

what changes based on the route you take is what shadow remembers, and what happens next, but the reality of what happened 50 years ago isn’t changed by his choice.

anyway. what happens next after the lost impact hero mission:

shadow remembers maria’s final wish, the promise he made, and being ejected in the escape pod

when he comes to, he’s running with sonic on the ark (for the life of me i could not recognize that environment at all until now, but comparing it to other “present” ark stages, im pretty sure its the ark), and the black comet passes by, final haunt hero time.

after final haunting all over the place, shadow faces black doom and says he’s going to fulfill his promise to maria and save the world she loved so much

“i am shadow the hedgehog, and i made a promise i intend to keep. with the power of these emeralds, black doom and his army are finished. this is who i am”

this is the pure hero end. yippee

rewinding a bit, this is what happens after lost impact neutral:

(listen ok, i’m gonna gloss over how incredibly stupid everything about gun is in this game, and also i’m doing a little work to make things make sense. some of the logic in this route is complete bullshit but i think what it’s trying to do is really interesting so i’m giving it the best chance, ok?)

shadow doesn’t remember the promise he made with maria, nor her saving him. he’s still confused about why he was created and what happened on the ark

when he comes to, he’s on the ark, and the commander of gun is pointing a gun at his head

the commander tells him that he saw shadow being created by black doom and the professor. he says that shadow was responsible for the ark tragedy and maria’s death.

the commander tries to shoot shadow to serve justice for what he believes happened, but shadow dodges. he says he’ll respectfully accept his fate when it comes time if what the commander says is true, but first he has to find out the truth of what really happened.

cosmic fall time:

cosmic fall takes place on the dilapidated and actively exploding ruins of the ark in the present.

if you do the dark mission and just get to the end, then eggman shows up to take the 6 chaos emeralds shadow has collected up til now. he says various stuff about how it was his grandfather who created shadow but honestly doesn’t do much.

“i am shadow the hedgehog, the ultimate life form born and raised aboard the ark. i shall live on… i am the protector of the ark… i am living proof of the ultimate life form. this is who i am”

shadow tells eggman to leave immediately, he won’t allow anyone to defile the sacred ark. this is the semi-hero dark end

rewinding a bit:

if in cosmic fall you find the computer room with vector for the hero mission, then shadow asks black doom if it’s true, if he’s a monster responsible for the ark and was created by him.

black doom says it’s true, and shadow resolves himself to avenging the victims of the ark tragedy. black doom says thats stupid and tries to kill him so shadow defeats him, saying it’s what he must do as his atonement

“i am shadow the hedgehog, a research experiment gone deadly wrong. i’ve caused so much destruction… i never should have been created. this is who i am”

then shadow presumably kills himself. this is the semi-hero hero end

thanks for reading. i love this fucking game

#i woke up and decided to be obsessed with shth05 for the day #you can get either semi hero ending without going through lost impact but they make no goddamn sense otherwise #rambles #shth05 #meta #i guess? feels weird using that tag for my own post #suicide mention #lemme know if i should tag anything else

[benevolentgodloki]

Thor 4 Love & Thunder spoilers and a few opinions under the cut!

First off, I loved it! :D

I have so many good things to say about it that I’m not gonna say all that much about what I did like because I’ll waffle on too long XD I thought this movie was so much good for Thor and sets up so much hope and fun in general.

I’m also completely fine that Loki wasn’t in it because this wasn’t about Loki, this should never have been about Loki. The two bros are having their own space and finding themselves, which sets up perfect ground for them to meet again in upcoming stuff. In fact, only then will I be miffed if Marvel don’t follow through on the ‘sun will shine again’ arc.

I’m excited that it’s been confirmed the MCU’s connection to Valhalla still exists without Asgard, even if that means me tweaking one or two plot bits for original Loki to have gone to Hel in certain threads. Canonically, this means our amazing and troubled boy is living it up in Valhalla with everyone else who died. Probably anyway XD Much possibilities for him bothering Janes and Heimdalls in threads and finding a way back as surely the Mighty Thor will return.

Loved loved loved making all the kids have the power of Thor and clarifying better on how this power works and is wielded by Jane and also all the gaps filled in on the Thor and Jane relationship.

Aaaa, Loki’s kind of an uncle now!

What I was a little miffed at/wanted more detail on:

I wish we’d been given a name for Gorr’s now Thor’s daughter because I will emphatically not be calling her ‘Love’. I barely can stand when people are called Hope (sorry Miss Van Dyne and other Hopes, I’m too British to cope with this depth of sentimentality) but I only accept ‘Love’ as a sweet nickname in Korg’s cheesy storytelling. If I can’t handle it, Loki certainly can’t.

It’s a shame the Necrosword wasn’t connected to the symbiote All-Black that we know of and Gorr was significantly underpowered. But! I still thought he was amazing and a threat. I would have loved to have seen more direct conflict of his as we only saw him kill one god. I was so ready to see him wreak havoc in the city of the gods and we didn’t get any of the sort of visual rampage we got from Hela.

I’d have liked more detail on how and why Stormbreaker was the key to opening the way to Eternity if Thor had only recently made it. Does only Bifrost energy open it? Does that mean there are many kinds of key? Is it only allowed because of random prophecy/how did the Necrosword know what it needed? Did I just not pay attention ‘cause I’ve only seen the film once?

I wanted more for Valkyrie. It was fab they got to openly admit she’d had a girlfriend and we managed to get gay rock dads but I hope she finds something good for herself soon.

tl;dr I very much loved L&T. It’s no Ragnarok. It doesn’t blow me away. 

But god I laughed so hard when the goats smacked into the planet.

#outofillusions #Pirate babbles #Pirate's opinions #thor love and thunder spoilers #spoilers #l&t spoilers #thor spoilers

[selfdiagnosedeyemotif]

CHARACTER ASK THING!!!

Olberic, Cyrus, Ori and Agnea!!!!!

PEACE AND LOVE ON PLANET EARTH!!!

Olberic:

Favourite Thing: in love with this man's theme. we love brass instruments in this household

Least Favourite Thing: not a huge fan of monarchies but the guy's allowed to serve whoever he wants to serve

Favourite Line: i'm not super deep into his story so i'm gonna have to go with "I wreak havoc upon thee!" from when he uses Brand's Thunder

brOTP: brOTP isn't the right word for it but i love his dynamic with Phillip. certified little guy and his insanely powerful knight mentor

OTP: Erhardt i guess? i think there's some worthwhile stuff there but i'm not sure if i'd prefer it romantically

nOTP: Cyrus, on the grounds that i am a firm believer in aroace/romance averse Cyrus

Random Headcanon: he has tried thrice to ride a horse. thrice he has failed.

Unpopular Opinion: gonna have to hold off on this one because i don't really know enough about him to formulate something of that variety

Song: military marches in general, which bears with it three distinct possible options: good, good, and deeply unfortunate (in order. anyone with any knowledge of the last one will be able to tell you why it's so unfortunate).

Favourite Picture: i think his depiction in the Break, Boost, and Beyond album art is beyond fun because just:

all of the modernized outfits are fun but Olberic gets an octopus jacket, sick shades, AND a bass. cool levels are off the damn charts

Cyrus:

Favourite Thing: gonna sound like a damn nerd but the themes he represents. Professor Cyrus Albright is a representation of the progression of humanity as it marches ever forward (his story culminates in refuting Lucia's ivory-tower offer), and i've been carrying his final monologue with me ever since i first heard it

Least Favourite Thing: the "too pretty for his own good" bit is kinda lame. its not bad and it can be funny, but its very middling

Favourite Line: "I teach my students with the expectation that one day, they will surpass me.", because again, i LOVE the themes of Cyrus's story and that line summarizes them perfectly

brOTP: odette. just a couple of odd birds that can't stand each other but are also besties.

OTP:

nOTP: everyone. next question.

Random Headcanon: i think that he has a background both in theatre and in orchestra, and took them both as minors when he got his degree in history

Unpopular Opinion: his lack of an arc is not only not detrimental to his character, but i'm GLAD that they didn't give him one. giving him an arc was unnecessary for his story and would have detracted from what made it great (the themes. them's some tasty themes)

Song: again just waltzes in general, but also Queen from Deltarune and William Shamspeare ~ Back-Alley Bard from The Great Ace Attorney

Favourite Picture: this piece of fanart by @/meansary

Ori:

Favourite Thing: I FUCKING LOVE ORI. CAN'T SAY A DAMN THING ABOUT HER FROM AN ANALYTICAL ANGLE BUT OOOUUUGH. anyways i love the fact that she lives!!!! she's just scarcely able to turn her eyes away from the void!!! she realises that she wants to live before its too late!!!

Least Favourite Thing: no official art and we are thus limited to her sprite for design cues. alas.

Favourite Line: "So taking a step back, what Partitio did is impossible. Unimaginable. Inconceivable.", from her journal. its just. oh my god. its the moment you can see the the Moonshade Order is starting to lose its grip on her. she's in denial about it, but its these sentences that began the process of her saving her life. "I wish i had a lifetime to report on your shenanigans" and the moment Partitio convinces her to flee from Roque in his chapter 4 are both also very tasty and good

brOTP: Partitio is the cop-out answer to this one, but im also fascinated by what her dynamic with Ochette might be cuz like. symbolic representation of all the themes of hope that has seen humanity do terrible things but keeps on truckin' + person that is only beginning to accept that maybe life isn't such a curse after all is a very cool combination

OTP: Partitio by proxy. dont ship it, dont intend to ship it (partitio has some aro energy to me but hey thats just me), but i do not deny that it is certainly a thing

nOTP: no standouts in this category.

Random Headcanon: Ori hasn't had good food in years as a result of the whole "if i'm gonna die anyways, there's no point in enjoying this" mentality that was clearly trapping her in the Moonshade Order, and the first time she had a good bowl of soup was positively life-changing for her. she started trying to cook for herself shortly thereafter

Unpopular Opinion: not unpopular by any stretch of the imagination but it does run counter to one (1) person i've seen, but i think she deserves to, and can, make a full recovery. no shade on the person who wrote that super cool fic in which she was tormented by hallucinations of her brother and said in the fic description that they didnt think she'd recover, but that ain't for me

Song: she's so No Children by The Mountain Goats coded. there's always one guy

Favourite Picture: this delightful number by @/nicandragon, specifically the one in the bottom right corner

it's a very... vivid and evocative depiction of the final moments before she nearly dies, and there's a kind of beauty in that.

Agnea:

Favourite Thing: the Song of Hope! it was a fun detail to make the choices you made throughout the journey show up in her chapter five, and it's like. such a fun thing to incorporate into her story. i love it when characters create art (also the track itself is a banger)

Least Favourite Thing: the pitch of her voice has lost me a little as time has gone by, nothing major but it's not as charming as it used to be (this is NOT a statement about the accent thing. that bit is fun)

Favourite Line: "Dreams aren't good for nothing" was just a fun line, but "The stars... they're all gone" was delivered EXTREMELY well, so i'm giving it to the latter

brOTP: she and Throné have a very fun dynamic. not much to say on it, it's just fun

OTP: hikari? i guess? dude there's ships that i sorta accept into my headcanon of the story but dont touch and there's ships that my mind obsesses over for decades, and this is neither of those. it's a choice i selected from a drop-down menu.

nOTP: also no stand-outs

Random Headcanon: she does take Throné to her village for the next raspberry festival, as mentioned in their Agnea 5 travel banter

Unpopular Opinion: is a great vehicle to get across the themes of the story, but doesn't do it with nearly as much finesse as Cyrus, but still doesn't have a clear arc, and her character suffers a bit as a result

Song: on vibes and vibes alone, Voice Like A Bell by Gregory and the Hawk

Favourite Picture: strangely enough, it's actually this modern au design for her by @/hanpaopaoo, simply because it does such a good job of maintaining her key design features, silhouette, and colour scheme while also being undeniably modernized

#apparently i like modernized outfits cuz two of my favourite pictures are of them #huh #and the void screameth back #not-pie

[bigskydreaming]

Hi, I was reading your post about Jason punching Dick in the face when Dick revealed he fake his death was bullshit ( which it was) and it reminded me of an issue/question that has bothered me for sometime.

Why did people believe Dick was actually dead?

I’m not the most avid comic reader so maybe I missed something but it was always weird to me that everyone just accepted this especially given how Bruce was acting or should I say wasn’t acting.

This is a man when his child died another child had to come along and told him sir you are being too violent and emotional you need supervision. When his other child died he went all over the universe to bring him back to life because he knew it was possible ( which was happening at the same time), so why didn’t anyone think it was weird he wasn’t doing that for Dick. Can you imagine Dick really dying that soon after Damian it would be injustice Batman Version. You are telling me that Tim, Jason or Barbara didn’t think it was weird that Bruce didn’t also bring Dick’s corpse to the bring Damian back to life mission or mention it to themselves. Like what more likely Dick dead and Bruce is handling it well or that he fake his death to do something stupid and Dangerous after his partner/brother/ little bit my son the feelings are complicated died after he was knocked out and woke up to his corpse.

Oh man, this is like, the entire nature of my beef?

(Slight derail just to emphasize the fact real quick that Dick DID actually die, he was just revived quickly, but like, the trauma of his death was very real and its not like anyone was clued into Luthor having a resurrection backdoor built into his literal murder of Dick in the actual moment of it happening. So Dick’s death wasn’t fake, and additionally, he didn’t have anything to do with like, telling people about it, because he was literally comatose in the cave and recovering while Bruce was telling people....by the time Dick woke up in the cave, we already know that Alfred at least had already been convinced by Bruce that Dick was dead, so I have a kneejerk need to pushback against the Dick faked his death narrative by reminding people wherever possible that Dick had no agency in the spreading of that narrative. 

It happened without him being involved, and the only actual contribution he ever made to it was just not revealing he was alive before Grayson #12, after Bruce like.....emotionally, mentally and physically badgered him into accepting that doing so would be directly harmful to his family and he didn’t want to be the reason more people died when like, people had just died because he ‘let’ himself be captured and interrogated by Power Woman’s Lasso of Submission, did he?

SORRY TO BE PEDANTIC, just wanted to start this off on a clarification, even though I know the aim of your ask was very much in tune with the rest of my response. A lot of people don’t read the actual comics, so like, I’m never gonna skip over an opportunity to emphasize that the shorthand people use to refer to Dick’s death and the year he was with Spyral, is like, literally just shorthand for describing it. Its not actually an accurate description of how all that went down and who had the most hand in it).

BUT ANYWAY. BACK TO THE MEAT OF THE BEEF.

Okay so like, not only was the entire family and Bruce himself giving Dick shit for his death and Spyral, like, PAINFULLY egregious because it was literal victim blaming in every possible sense of the word....

None of it made a LICK of sense with ANY of their characterizations, and they ONLY all accepted it on face value because the Plot Demanded It, and when you're like, no, as a reader I say The Plot Demanded It is not a good enough reason for me to be like well sure, that makes sense......looking at the characters ACTUAL actions at face value pretty much just makes them all look like assholes?

Like, Tim has never gracefully accepted anyone's death. Ever. This is core characterization for him. He will go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones and to bring them back, prove they're not dead, refuse to let death be the final verdict for them. He was tempted to use the Lazarus Pit to bring his parents back to life. He refused to accept Bruce was dead long before he had any proof whatsoever of that theory. He tried to clone his BFF/future-husband Kon in his fucking basement like, dude was two whole inches away from going Full Dark Side in his quest to bring back a lost loved one no matter WHAT the cost.....and then you've got Dick unmasked onscreen, killed offscreen, and Bruce then reporting to the rest of them with zero inflection 'oh Dick's dead now. Its very sad' and Tim's just like, sure. Sounds legit.

I mean?!?!

And you're SO RIGHT ABOUT THE DAMIAN THING! Bruce LITERALLY LITERALLY LITERALLY went BEYOND the ends of the Earth, like, he full on chartered a fucking space ship to fly his whole family out to APOKOLIPS to bring Damian back from the dead by going to EXTREME lengths.....WHILE everyone else thought Dick was dead....

And not a single person looked at Bruce and was like, okay, not that we're not down to do this for Damian because we miss Stabby Smurf something fierce ourselves, but.....what the fuck is UP with you dude? Why aren't you displaying ANY hint of this same kind of energy in regards to your eldest son that you said you watched die right in front of you?

Like....I don't know that we were actually ever told that Dick's coffin was empty or had a fake in it, but like....this family of detectives who refuse to accept death, defy death, COME BACK FROM THE DEAD....not a single one of them said like, okay, if I'm gonna like, ACCEPT accept that Dick is dead and gone for good, I need to at least just see him one last time? That's literally all it would have taken for someone to realize hey something's a little wonky here. Where's the dead body, Pops?

Since when has Jason ever missed an opportunity to prove Bruce is a) full of shit, b) acting like an emotionless robot and all his kids deserve better especially when they've just like....died, c) just factually incorrect and wrong and jumped to a conclusion before it was conclusively proved, d) lying like a liar or e) all of the above?

Nobody even ASKED if Dick's body could be put in a Lazarus Pit? Yeah, Jason wouldn't necessarily recommend it himself, given what it put him through, but actually fuck that, I take that back, because I'm NOT actually of the opinion that Jason full on hates his life and actively spends every second of every day wishing he hadn't been resurrected, even if it had come with a huge buffet of additional trauma and pain.

And that's kinda what's implied when people just take it for granted that he would never be on board with any scenario involving using a Lazarus Pit to bring Dick back, because it suggests that based even just on his own experiences and feelings, he honestly believes Dick would prefer being dead and not have ANY further opportunities to be with his loved ones, his friends, help save the damn world again at some future point.....that Jason, projecting based just off himself, legit feels Dick would rather be dead than have another shot at life even WITH the downsides of Lazarus Pit usage? Nope. Sorry, I don't buy it.

Speaking of not buying it.....you know what was missing from all those soliloquies the others monologued at Dick about how they felt and were hurt and just devastated by his death, to such a point they can't seem to muster a single shred of happiness that he's NOT dead still -

(seriously, Damian was the ONLY person in ALL THE LANDS OF EMOTION-HAVING who expressed ANY kind of positive reaction to having Dick back. We were so fucking cheated of like.....ANY opportunity to have the characters show just how much they valued him by just being fucking HAPPY he was alive, no matter what else was involved....and then most of fandom compounded that by for years being like mmmm, no, Dick didn't get yelled at enough by his family for what HE put THEM through. Needs more yelling. More punching too. Bad Dick. Bad. This is the only way you'll learn not to die and get shipped off on a mission that you don't want but at least is to protect your family after being beaten into it by your dad whilst victim blaming you for dying in the first place. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE AND THEIR FEELINGS FOR A CHANGE, DICK?!?)

- But like, BUT I DIGRESS aside....you know what was missing from all those monologues about how hard DICK'S death and ensuing year of basically exile from his loved ones was for EVERYONE BUT HIM?

We never got a single line of explanation as to what everyone else officially thinks even happened to him in the first place?

Like, did Bruce straight up just say oh bad news kids, your brother umm. Expired. Spontaneously. There's no one to blame, he just keeled over, its all very sad.

Is that how that went down?

You're telling me that the explanation of Dick's death didn't come with a single pointed finger at someone for this family of blame-happy vigilantes to like, BLAME for the loss of this brother they all mourned oh so much, they just couldn't help but blame him for all the hurt it caused them?

The family that in every other fic is like OBSESSED with avenging and being avenged and all things vengeful and even tangentially vengeance-y....like didn't ask for a single detail on whomst the fuck deprived us of our brother-having?

Where were the attempts on Luthor's life by Jason (who I mean, yeah I know it was in a previous continuity, but erasing that timeline doesn't erase my awareness of the time Dick killed Jason's murderer so like.....mmm, just saying, woulda been nice)....where was the rage directed at the Crime Syndicate and references to how seriously and personally the Batfam took making sure that they were PUNISHED for all this and would never be free to wreak havoc on their world or their family again? What did they tell Damian when he came back to life, and how are you going to tell me that this fraternal little ball of fury didn't aim himself like a cannonball at whomever the fuck had DARED take HIS Batman from him when Damian wasn't around to have his back?

Not only does everyone else's desire to be avenged start falling really flat the second you factor in hey maybe Dick feels "mmm what about MY avenging" sometimes, and why doesn't anyone ever care about doing that for him.....but also, y'know what REALLY sucks about the ONLY person we actually SEE being blamed for Dick's death and ensuing absence being like....Dick himself?

Not only were his family all super keen on making all of this HIS fault and HIM the bad guy because of how it made them all feeeeeeel (and meanwhile fuck his feelings, am I right Batfam hfaklshfklahfkla).....

They somehow found a way to justify prioritizing this OVER ever even getting around to blaming some villain for his death in the FIRST place, in the entire year or so they thought he was still dead!

Like, you couldn't come up with a single target in all that time, but Dick's back two seconds, and you don't even give him a chance to EXPLAIN before you're punching him, shutting him down with 'I expected better from you' and turning away with 'I don't want to hear it, why am I surprised Dick Grayson disappointed me again'?

afshklfhalfhalfhla

Make it make sense!

And like, it won't, cuz it doesn't, and it never will, and like I said at the top, the ONLY reason it all played out this way is because DC doesn't give a fuck about character development and deemed it necessary to go down this way for the sake of the plot (which was totes worth it, I mean, glad we sacrificed characters for this A+ plot which was clearly the greatest plot of all time and definitely justified every story choice made or not made around it loooool).

BUT.

BUT BUT BUT.

The problem isn't JUST that DC is stupid, even though that is an eternal mood and quite the problem.

Its that the SECOND large parts of fandom decided to play along with DC and just accept the story at face value, only add to it and play into it exactly as it happened in canon with no significant deviations, and like, heaping on the LITERAL abuse from Dick's siblings while ignoring the LITERAL abuse from his father....

THAT....is when all of this becomes relevant.

Because the second people decided TO engage with the reasoning DC gave for what Bruce did and how and what Dick did and how and just not mess with any of that and have it all play out exactly like that...

The second people are like, okay we're FINE with not just dismissing this story as OOC writing that doesn't make any sense, and actually VALIDATING it to various degrees by engaging with it as is....

That's when 'OOC writing' stops being an excuse or explanation for alllll of the above gaps in character logic and actions.

Because its like, when you had abundant chance to REJECT this story and say nope, this was bullshit from start to finish and I'm not here for it, when you were just as capable of transforming literally ANY aspect of this story you didn't like into something that made more sense to you....

And you chose not to.

That's.....accepting it as valid writing. You were like, okay, I'm game to just treat this as a thing that happened, just like they said that happened.

For the chance to give Dick shit for it, see. For the angst, see.

And that's when I'm like okay cool, so when engaging with this story as is and accepting it on face value and just delving into the characters as they were SHOWN interacting with and around these events......for the angst or whatever....

You guys just all decided en masse to just hop, skip and jump over allllllllll the opportunities for angst inherent in examining even ANY SINGLE ONE of the above lapses in judgment or hypocrisy on the parts of the characters (who don't get to be excused by OOC writing if you're not going to call the story an example of OOC writing, whoops).

And its just like, uh, what's up with that?

#lol thank you for this ask tho #I havent gone on a good Spyral rant in months #it does wonders for my pores

[hysteriium]

𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆;

(𝐆𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞)

(𝐀/𝐧 ): This is the first I’ve posted in ages!!! I can’t recall how long it’s been, life has truly been hectic but I’m getting back on the saddle!!! We’re starting with my boi! I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing this! I’ve been experimenting with the way he talks so it’s not as overt as I’ve previously written! I feel like the intonations may break the flow a bit so I’ve tried to make it more cohesive! Lmk what you guys think! Also shout out to my amazing partner @lilliryth​ they’re the light of my life and helped me edit this!! They’re such an amazing person and I would not be where I am today without them. 

( 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ): Wedding. That is all. It’s not what you think. 

( 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ): DK! Joker x Reader. 

( 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ): 7,600+ k words!

( 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ): Angst (very little), swearing, violence. 

The first time you’d asked, he simply stared in disbelief. 

“Come again?” The bright red hues of confusion painted his husky voice. 

The question had been wreaking havoc in your thoughts for the past month, unsure of how to slip out from ambiguity onto the sureness of the tongue. Such a bold yet silly little request was sure to be large and repugnant to the man hovering above you. While the darkness of his eyes was accentuated by his stygian greasepaint, hints of cocoa peeked through, prompting shy flutters of anxiety in your abdomen.  

You can do this.

Your tongue slid across the arid cracks of your lips, wetting them. You cleared your throat, “I need a date to a wed–” 

That was all you could get out before he blinked a few times and strode off.

The second time, albeit similar in difficulty, thankfully didn’t result in him running. 

You tiptoed into his makeshift office with an air of mischief, his room sombre except for the lamp that spotlighted his desk. Hunched over blueprints which you suspected were his next big scheme, his eyes never drifted from the intricacies on the paper. 

“Boo!” You shouted, catching his hips with an unbreakable hold when you closed the distance. While his body tensed, he couldn’t control the breath of amusement that left his nose.

“I can see you really tried there.” 

You knew he followed your stare when his long fingers worked to roll the sheet. They were fast – so fast the pinched ends stuck out in layered rings that almost resembled winding mountainous trails. He couldn’t have curious eyes ogling his extra top secret will-have-to-kill-you-if-you-found-out criminal plans, now could he? 

“What?” you started, while your hands fell and your footsteps whispered away from him. You felt the creases of your mouth wobble, ready to smile at any moment, and so you bit the inside of your tongue. “Don’t you trust me?” 

“No,” he smirked, petting your head. 

Curse his height. 

“Now, uh, what is it, doll?” 

You let your smile leap free, “I need to ask a super dooper big fav–”

“I’m not going.” 

“But whyyyyyy? My parents are harassing me! They think their daughter’s going to grow old and grey and be alone forever.”

“Gee, I can’t imagine why.” 

You shot him a look, one that only fuelled his amusement.

“J, I can’t just not show up.” 

You watched his figure rise slightly as he drew and released a breath. 

“I don’t like wed–” his tongue stuck out like he’d tasted something bad before he cleared his throat “–dings, they’re full of false hope, drunks and...” he shuddered, “romance. You see, they’ll end up killing each other in a few years. I can picture it now: dearly beloved wife kills cheating husband. Oh how could this have ever happened?” 

He scoffed.

“You’re so dramatic. I promise it would only be for a few hours.”

“And pumpkin, how exactly are you gonna sneak me into a… place like that when I look like this,” he said, hands motioning to his face – mostly his scars. 

It broke your heart. You could've sworn you heard it splinter, the downturn of your brows impossible to hold back. If only words were enough to convey complex feelings, to convey the pile of bricks nestled in your chest, to convey the desperate crave to comfort and rebut, the need to protect – even from himself. You had yet to find a way, and so you were stuck behind the thick lock and chain of language with no key in sight; restricted and bound to tools you never thought were enough, but could only hope were enough.   

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his face. In his eyes you saw the emotions flicker, almost as tangible as they were transparent – anger, fear, shock. Stood still and stiff, you nodded softly, giving him a smile of equal warmth. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”  

He squinted before hesitantly giving in, shifting so his cheek rested against your palm. He had to lower himself a little more to do so. 

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with how you look. They’re beautiful, and I’ll keep saying so until there’s no breath left in my lungs.”

You held him ever so gently while he flitted his eyes shut. Your heart galloped then, its swell too big for your body and for a moment, brief as the breeze, the chaos he prided himself in was absent; for a moment there was peace.

“If you weren’t The Joker, I’d say go as is. Though, I have a plan!” 

“Oh, do you now?” He said, shaking his head and returning to work. It was clear he was rapidly reaching his patience threshold.

Damn it.

“They have food!” You trailed off unsurely, as if it was a question – pinning your last hope on appealing to his raccoon inclinations.

It didn’t work.

The third, well… 

You had just about given up and accepted the fact that it wasn’t his scene, that him meeting your parents would never be an option – a reality you had started to think of as a good thing the more you thought about it. 

And so, the third day had been your acceptance. Self-care. Instead of chasing after an ideal, your hands were clutching a book, almost too hard, as the part you had been anticipating since very early had reached its finale. With your legs curled underneath you and practically asleep, your eyes flicked furiously from word to word– 

That is until a looming figure shadowed the page completely, concealing all light from the lamp next to you. 

Annoyance creased your features as you looked up at the clownish culprit. Your eyes met and a staring contest ensued, the intensity of his eyes beckoning a response until he, uncharacteristically, broke first. 

“Will this make you, uh, happy?” 

All traces of irritation were washed away by bewilderment, “sorry?” 

“My being with you.” 

“You mean to the wedding?” You asked, wide-eyed. If you hadn’t been as shocked as you were, you would have snorted at his continuous inability to say the word ‘wedding’. 

He shifted on his feet, eyes darting away for a second before he licked his lips. “Yeah.” 

“Is this a joke?”

“I’m not that cruel.”

You paused to hum obnoxiously, your finger tapping your chin to challenge the notion.

“Never mind,” he waved his hand in the air and was about to walk off before you grabbed his hand and sprung off your seat. You felt him try to wiggle out of your grasp with a grunt, but it was too late. “Thank you!” You shouted. 

You missed the way his surprise melted into a genuine curl of his lips, twitching; the muscles unused. Instead, you were too busy stuffed in his vest, with your arms swathed around him. You both stayed there for a while basking in the warmth of each other, as his hands, which you guessed were hanging awkwardly in the air and unsure of what to do, encircled your waist.

Third time’s the charm. 

Shaking fingers twirled sapphire silk, gliding over your cinched waist before finally moving up to the delicate exposed flesh of your neck. You glanced over the spaghetti straps that curved comfortably over your shoulder, and the simple silver circle necklace that laid between them, its chilled presence clashing with the heat of your skin.  

Knock knock knock!

“Just a minute!” You said, jumping at the sudden rude intrusion. 

“Not even funeral parlors take this long,” you heard J say from the other side, the distinctive departure of footsteps following promptly. They seemed faster than usual.

You puffed air at his complaint after calming your racing heart. Then you scrambled to finish up the final touches of makeup, at last winding the nude colored ribbons of your heels around your calves. Your head felt light, and your shoes only worsened the sudden gelatinous state your legs took on. Never before had you dressed up in such a way, not for years and much less in front of someone you dearly cherished. The line between fashionable and laughable was blurred and never truly had been exercised. Waving away the fuel your anxious thoughts provided, you decided to try and move. Your heels wobbled trying to avoid the flowing material pooled by your ankles, and you’d just managed to slip one foot out through the thigh-high slit. No matter how much you sighed, the pressure remained, weighing like an anvil. And so, with nothing much to lose, you made your way to the door; the dampness of your fingers leaving its foggy signature upon the knob.

This was it.

You breathed in one last time before opening the door.

“Okay, I’m re–” 

You exhaled sharply, feeling the earlier intake of air leave you – taking with it the remaining wind in your lungs. You couldn’t control the twinkle of your eyes, nor the flip of your stomach as you gazed upon him.

His form was angled against the wall and his arms were crossed – that was, until he dragged his eyes over to you. His limbs then dropped to their sides and he quickly, almost stumbling over his shoes, righted his position. The bob of his Adam's apple was clear while both of you stood meters from each other with widened eyes. You knew he had the ability to pull off a suit, but the royal blue he donned was stunning. The stark colour complemented his blond locks, while his foulard tie with its blends of pinks, purples, and its navy base matched his socks. 

It seemed you were both in the same boat, consumed by swells of giddiness and the need to fidget. The fingers that were dressed in dark brown leather gloves drummed against his thigh, while one of his cedar suede shoes tapped furiously against the floor.

“What.” He finally stated, rather than questioning. 

You dropped the necklace your fingers had started circling. 

“Nothing! You just look… really nice,” you uttered earnestly, unable to contain the sweet smile that broke through awe. 

“Yeah, yeah. Uh… you too,” he said, the last part coming out less steady. 

He avoided eye contact when you trotted over to him, fiddling with his cufflinks, though his tending to them immediately vanished when you began to accentuate the swish of your hips. 

All fidgeting stopped.

You were sure he was expecting something else, rather than the delicate cupping of his cheek once you reached him, soft lips meeting with roughened skin as you kissed his scars. You took your time with each one, whispering affection, before claiming his mouth. He growled against you, and you could feel him tighten his hold. 

The tip of his tongue traced the stain of lipstick, a wordless demand for entry which left you weak. Almost parting your lips to allow the gentle slide of his tongue, he suddenly reared back with a smirk. 

“Peach,” he cooed. 

You were going to have to reapply later. 

With a small smile you extended your arm to the couch, and knowing time was beginning to pass, he complied. As he advanced, you peeked at the orange lining in his blazer. The hue was similar to his purple coat, though slightly lighter. You smiled to yourself, the small detail so characteristically him. 

“Alright. Let’s get this over with,” he sighed, bracing himself. 

Already a step ahead, you had brought out the makeup needed just prior to getting dressed. Sitting on one of the nearby surfaces, you picked up a small translucent bag with little red hearts on it – a fact he’d snickered to himself at when he first saw it – and walked over to him. 

“As you wish, grumpy,” you simpered, “now hold still!” 

True to his new title, you heard him mutter something unintelligible under his breath. The tap-tap-tap of his foot against the floor was most of the noise for a good while, and although distracting, the fidgeting of his hands was less noisy. You knew more than anyone he needed to squirm around, some movement at the very least, and so you endured. You deduced that he’d not been this close to someone in so very long, let alone allow them to do his makeup. That task, intimate and personal within itself, was not something others could be trusted with. 

“Time to hide these little guys,” you murmured, focused as the beauty blender sat between your fingers and dabbed on concealer. “Not that they need hiding. I’ll miss them.”

“Really?” He chimed in, eyes shut while you did your work. 

“Yeah, they’re a part of you and I’d never want you to hide or be ashamed of who you are.” 

“Hmm,” he trailed off. 

Occasionally his mouth quirked, his tongue darting out to lick his scars; an involuntary movement. You were patient, and even if he wasn’t overt about his guilt of messing up your progress, you reassured him lightly with a kiss on the head, sometimes playing with the dirty blond waves that lacked any sign of green. 

The day before he’d washed out the colour in preparation for the big day, groaning until he caught sight of himself in the mirror; contemplative. Ethereal and almost delicate he seemed. How precious it was to witness such cracks in the fortress, where the basking rays of sun illuminated what once was – and still is, only shrouded by shrubbery and thorns, so overgrown and disordered that they had forgotten to take care of even themselves. Forgotten how.  

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he groaned as you finished blending the concealer on both cheeks. Grabbing the foundation you had colour matched, you dabbed a bit on your hand before applying that too.

“Honestly, me neither,” you replied, feeling no need to sugarcoat the shock from your tone. You knew he appreciated the truth. “But I’m glad you are! You’re doing so well!” 

He squirmed a little at the compliment but settled seconds later. Soon after finishing the blending, you reared back and observed your labour. Although it wasn’t perfect, and if you looked hard enough you could still see the intricate crevices in his skin, it passed. 

“All done!” 

As soon as you spoke, J pushed off his palms. He was halfway off the chair when you stopped him.

“Wait! I have to walk you through something.” 

At this, his eyebrows quirked up. You knew you had his attention. 

“Conditions!” You announced.

“Ah. Now there are conditions.” 

“Yes! I don’t want you to throw a tantrum and blow up the whole reception.” 

“My my, aren’t you a little fire stopper.” 

“Promise me.”

He flicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. With one hand on his chest and the other raised just next to his head, he bowed a little. “I swear.”

You wrinkled your nose, “I swear there will be no funny business, and I’ll be on my best behaviour – oh and no crossing your toes either!”

“You know me so well,” he sighed, admitting defeat, “Fine. I swear there’ll be no funny business and I’ll be on…” he cleared his throat and brought a closed fist to his mouth, “my best behaviour.” Then he shone his impishly wide grin, one that only intensified the pit of doubt in your stomach. 

It would have to do, though.  

“Okay,” you whispered. 

He stood up now, towering over you. 

“Okay,” he mimicked, dropping his hands at the base of your hips. 

The last few days had been full of surprises, his agreement to attend trumping all. However, his overt display of affection was a close second. Never before had he been so forthcoming and so comfortable with physical contact. 

As his hands laid there, unmoving and making their home in your curves, you inched closer to him; a specific craving only his warmth could ease. Though, those very same hands around you tightened when you tried to step forward, holding you in place. Curiously, you looked up at him, brows furrowed. 

“What are you–” 

It seemed he couldn’t help himself. The evil laughter he’d been trying to restrain bubbled from his throat and bounced off the walls. The eagerness to ask what he was doing quickly died – hard – when you could no longer feel the ground beneath your feet. It instead morphed into protests and occasional bouts of laughter as your arms dangled along his back, your pelvis against his shoulder. One gloved hand rested crudely just below the curve of your ass, occasionally squeezing your upper thigh and holding you in place, while his other arm hung unobstructed. 

“We–” he clicked his tongue, “–wouldn’t want to be late now, would we?” He finished, purring. 

The location was a couple hours outside of Gotham on the coastline in an area you’d practically never heard of. If it wasn’t for J’s gift for navigation, and his frustration when you kept leading him down wrong turns, you would have been hours late instead of just missing the ceremony. The last straw had been assuring him the early exit was your turn off despite his gut instinct, despite the countless times he asked ‘are you sure?’ and despite his sneaking glances – something he stopped doing when he almost crashed into the car next to you, too focused on craning his neck. All of this combined had resulted in the brutal demise of your map reading days. 

Stopping where he could after taking the wrong exit he held out a gloved hand, a wordless demand for the navigator. Before long, you were back on the freeway, thankfully heading the right way. The directory rested in his lap as he balanced the seemingly breezy tasks of reading and driving. 

Clearly safety was his middle name.

Once the two of you arrived at the venue, the first thing you both noticed was the heat. Warm and uncomfortable, the seabreeze made this bearable. The next notable feature was the rambunctious clamour of the crowd; music, laughter and shouting. 

After worming your way out of the van, comically wedged between two much smaller cars, you headed towards the reception, stopping short from the asphalt-sand border. J stared at it as if it had foiled his genius villainous plots, as if it was the cause of all his misfortunes, as if it was responsible for the brutal murder of his first pet. Then, he made a face – a mixture between a scowl and disgust. 

He sniffed, “it smells like...” he paused to grimace, “high society.” 

The ghastly look was then directed ahead to each moving – breathing – organism he could see. There was no doubt in your mind the crowd had already made it on his hit list.

“For once I miss the stink of Gotham.” 

“Well at least it’s at the beach!” You exclaimed, not recalling the last time you’d been. Trying to think that far back made your brain hurt, the tingle of overworked cogs and Brain Fog a lethal combination that coerced your forfeit in seconds. At the very least you were happy to be making new memories, hopefully some you’d be able to remember in the future; memories you prayed were not, later too, guarded by the merciless Brain Fog and his ravenous desire to generate headaches.  

“I hate the beach,” J delivered flatly, hatred distilled rolling off his person in waves.  

“Oh, you hate everything!” You pouted, brushing off his pessimism. 

“It’s hard not to.” 

“Well…” You stopped to think, wracking your brain to prove him wrong, “what about me?”

That had to get him. 

“You especially,” he grinned, eyes twinkling with a mischief that spoke nothing other than ‘you walked right into that one, sweetheart.’ 

You were unable to help the sigh that sailed past your hued lips, “well, come on sunshine. You can’t stare daggers at them all day.”

“I can try,” he spat sourly. 

You rolled your eyes and dragged him along but immediately dropped the act when you quickly realised it hauled unwanted eyes, like metal to magnets. Yet, J followed even though you were certain he saw the cursed asphalt-sand barrier as the very gates of hell themselves. In fact, he seemed a little bit too eager to start his anathematised exploration of the 9 circles as when you looked back, expecting to see his long limbs hanging in defeated protest, you were met with, well, nothing.

One moment he was there, the next he was gone seemingly stalking off into the unknown, hiding among the sea of people. It wasn’t like he was easy to lose either, his height and his aura of absolute discomfort is what set him apart from the rest. He protruded like a broken bone – so why couldn’t you find him?

“Damn it, J!” You harshly whispered to yourself, unknowingly stamping your foot until the insidious specks of sand tumbled their way into your shoe, under your feet and between your toes. Easily conquering your layer of protection, their coarse presence made you want to grind your teeth. 

Maybe this was a mistake.

Before you could go off and search for the lost irritating puppy, you heard shouts. At first they seemed like ordinary yells, distinctive deviations from the crowd which happened to catch your attention at the right moment. Though, the more time passed and you wandered around like a newborn giraffe looking for its mother, you realised this was not the case. Most telling was the way those vague cries morphed into the familiar syllables of your name. And then finally in view, the supposed sweet comfort of childhood embodied neared; their worn features staring into your own, different from all those years ago. 

You fought the urge to run. 

“Hey honey!” Your dad beamed.

Two pairs of smothering arms made their way toward you, enveloping. With your fingers clutching separate materials, each as scratchy and glacial as each other, your head started to spin and you felt yourself holding your breath. 

“Hey mum, hey dad, it’s nice to see you two again,” you said, feeling the slow ache from clenching your jaw starting to set in. You quickly swapped this expression for a small smile when they released you.

“How’ve you been?” Your dad inquired, the shimmer in his eyes a sight you couldn’t help but double take at. You noticed there was no glass in his hand. 

“Don’t bombard her dear,” your mum rolled her eyes, “where’s this date you were telling me about?” 

She lingered on the word with an emotion you couldn’t quite discern while her adjudicating eyes swept over your outfit. Her eyebrows then lifted, scrunching her nose with it. “Not bad.”

Her scanning forced you to shrink into yourself, the automatic motion of your palms relentless in their pursuit of wrinkles, a fact you did not pick up on until your mother cleared her throat at your unprompted staring contest.  

“My question dear, it’s rude to ignore your mother,” her thin brows creased and the folds just above them rested along her forehead in a similar fashion.  

You scrambled for an acceptable answer, the question just as ambiguous to yourself.

“He’s… um… getting us drinks! I was actually just about to go check up on–” 

“Well if a man can’t even fetch you a drink he’s hardly useful,” she scoffed, turning to her husband to whisper, “can’t imagine what this prince charming looks like.” 

Anger, lava-like and boiling, rose up in your throat. The pressure seemed unbearable as you tried to keep your mouth closed – tried not to defend the one you loved with your entire being. How dare she judge someone she had yet to even meet? She had yet to see the beauty that radiated in and out. 

It had only been minutes and you’d already been zapped of your energy for the day.

“I think I should go check on him now.” “Yes, of course. Come back to me when you have something to show,” your mother smiled. You watched her lips stretch, her wine lipstick as pigmented as the red coating your vision. 

Her hand clutched the necklace around her chest. Her fingers traced the glistening diamond which hung overtly, screaming it’s pricelessness to all passersby as she went to go have another sip of her champagne. At the corner of your eye you noticed movement, a pair of worn hands clutching suit pants. Hard. You turned automatically and when you met his eyes your dad shot you a strained smile. It almost looked like an apology. 

Your stomach turned. 

You tried your best to conceal the stomping as you promptly departed, promising yourself to at least wait until you were out of their view and blending in with the crowd. Once you merged with the patches, you quickly discovered that navigating your way out of it was going to be just as hard as trying to find J. Left and right amalgamated, looking the same no matter how many times you tried to compare differences and so did everyone’s outfits. You could have sworn you’d seen the same red dress three times, though you also could have sworn you went all different directions to the last; the truth was you were no more knowing than a sailor stranded at sea lacking a compass, the same indistinguishable shapelessness stretching out for miles and miles with no end in sight.  

Then, a miracle – a clearing of people which shrieked hope and a long portable table with flowing white lace harbouring all kinds of food. Amongst the good news, a blotch of royal blue caught your eye and a flash of blond. Focusing your view on the table and its few inhabitants, one of which was the blue wearing stranger, you quickly realised your missing date was fixed and firm in place at the snack area. No sooner than this revelation processed you dashed over, the anger returning once the relief had run its fleeting course. As you stormed your way over to him he failed to look up, too preoccupied with the food he was collecting. Lacking in subtlety, you grabbed his arm. 

“Jesus there you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

J, who had been waiting to stuff his face with what you identified as another cupcake, mouth ringed with strawberry frosting, crumbs and sprinkles, dropped it in surprise and turned to you with widened eyes. They shrunk as soon as they showed an inkling of surprise and instead shifted to speckled guilt. 

“Cupcake,” he managed to mumble with a full mouth.

Your fiery frustration was immediately put out by how cute he was, and you felt a surge of guilt yourself. It wasn’t fair to be taking out your personal frustrations on him. 

After closing your eyes and taking a breath, you reset. 

“They think I’m lying about you.”

He swallowed.

“You wanna leave? I, uh, know I want to,” he said much louder than the whisper you wish he’d used.

Such a comment warranted an elbow jab into his waist as you smiled ear to ear and sickly sweet at the passing guest who had clearly heard J. The middle aged woman with short brunette hair, white pom-pom earrings and beady eyes shot you two a blazing look before rutting her nose into the air. The reek of pretension wafted off her. Now you could see what J was saying earlier. 

Pee-yew. 

Everyone here sucked. 

“I’m gonna kill her later,” he murmured, squinting after her. 

“J, you promised to be good!”

Even if she was a grandiloquent old bitch who deserved it.

His ominous response was to pour himself some punch, the clown-in-disguise bringing the plastic up to his lips. As the cup masked most of his face, the only thing visible was his deadly gaze which bounced from congregation to congregation.

“How much longer.” Again, it wasn’t phrased as a question, more a statement. 

“The bride and groom haven’t even danced yet.” 

He scrunched his nose, though dropped the subject. At least verbally.

“You’re so crabby. You do know that you’re drawing even more attention to yourself this way?” 

“Hmmph.”

It was silent for a few minutes before, without warning, he grabbed your hand. The hesitant and jagged strokes of his thumb followed and even though they belonged to a novice, the delicacy was still there.

The message was clear: 

I’m new to this. 

Your lips upturned, the gentle quirk hidden by transient hair flowing along the salty breeze. His touch was warm and paradoxically amiable; his presence a shelter cutting the chilly current that had picked up around noon. Stained lips, of which you had forgotten about until the sticky residue imprinted boldly on his glove, aimed to ease his buzzing mind. Expecting a grumble for the lipstick mark, what you got in return was the soft gaze of dark brown eyes – a sign of taming raging waters. He didn’t seem to mind, in fact the window into his soul for once could be identified as just that – a window; crystal, without the dirtied stains of camouflage and trepidation. 

Something had changed. 

Before you could get another word in, it was announced the bride and groom were going to have their first dance. The crowd gathered around the newly wedded couple as the music suddenly switched. The speakers were loud as they played a waltz, the couple’s limbs intertwined and swaying to its dramatic pace. They twirled and swayed with the grace of swans tiptoeing and beguiling the creeping ocean on the golden sands. Even though you knew virtually nothing about them, and were convinced that in fact this whole invite was your mother’s scheme to pry, the sight was a beautiful one to behold. The epitome of love – reciprocal trust and utter surrender; it had you wondering where you’d gone wrong previously, and if such a thing was as formulaic as it seemed to be, or if they were freefalling into the abyss as much as everyone else was; blindfolded, but nonetheless with each other. Welded in each other’s hearts.

How long had you projected your yearning at the couple and vicariously lived through their magical moment? You couldn’t say, though it was only the sudden grip on your shoulder that had managed to break your fixed admiration. It was firm, but nowhere near the realm of rough, and it even contained a fraction of gentleness, an action that wordlessly said ‘are you okay?’

At the sudden presence, you looked over your shoulder to find J, his guarded eyes holding a knowledge which only deepened the crawling feeling of embarrassment. Blood rushed to your cheeks. As you rounded your gaze back to the couple, you quickly saw the crowd was beginning to join them, all dancing at their own pace as the music continued its intimate lull. J’s hand slid down your arm while you watched and returned to hold your hand. Content and about to lean into him, your sudden love struck daze pounced away when he started to walk, dragging you along with him. 

“Hey– what are you doing?”

No response. 

“Let me go!” You said, your tone coming out a lot angrier than you’d expected. You guessed this alerted him because even though you were mere meters away from the rest of the crowd he stopped to explain. 

“I saw the way you were looking at them. You know, cupcake, you’re not hard to read,” he drawled.

You pursed your lips, looking away for a moment. 

“So what? What are you doing?” 

“What does it – ah – look like?” 

He’d seemingly taken your lack of response as a positive and continued forward. He grinned once he had you in position and placed his palm on the small of your back, his thumb rubbing gentle circles. He then maneuvered his other hand to grab yours and stretched it forward. From his first few steps you knew immediately it was the Viennese Waltz. The fast tempoed dance was one you weren't all too familiar with, but you’d learned its slower English counterpart.

“I didn’t know you could dance,” you gasped, trying your best to conceal your astonishment. You didn’t want to seem rude, though he just didn’t seem like the person interested in such a thing. Nor have the time. You were certainly finding yourself more curious about the origin of such a talent, and all the other potential abilities that were sneakily tucked away. 

“Well aren’t I just full of surprises.”

He dipped you slightly in time with the halt of the orchestra. He held you there for a moment before the tune resumed its boisterous charm, climbing steadily to its crescendo. 

“Here’s to another,” he said, his smile widening. If you didn’t know him so well you would have believed the expression to be completely innocent and honeyed. Standing there intertwined with his limbs you knew that devilish gleam was anything but. 

And, seconds later, this suspicion proved right. 

Suddenly he lifted you, twirling you around in such a way that made you feel like you were the bride. You’d only seen such a thing in Disney movies and cheesy rom coms – to be cherished, to be loved and cared for in such a delicate way was a fantasy; a taste of nostalgia and a serenade to the hopeless romantic within.

“J, put me down! Put me down!” You felt yourself swallow when his hands tightly gripped your hips. For a moment the irritation you’d experienced all day from a full face of makeup and wandering had all been worth it. 

His laughs slipped out, too; a direct contrast from his often irked facade, a musically heart-warming phenomenon which no instrument could emulate. The whole time you kept your eyes on each other and never once did they deter, focused on drinking in the beauty of each other. The cheers from the crowd you’d gathered fell upon both your deaf ears, transfixed by each other’s magic in your own closed off bubbles. 

As you continued to dance, the act itself felt like flying. The crowd separated when you neared – that is, until everything stopped. Sharp and prompt. 

Neither of you had much regard for the abrupt bump when it happened, there were people everywhere and mistakes occurred. It was no big deal. At least that’s what you told yourself until such a collision was followed by a violent shriek and a splash. 

Loud gasps replaced the background noise of applause.  

In a few frightening seconds your brain made the connection – linking who you’d just seen in the same area minutes before, inches from the ocean. 

“Oops,” you squeaked, too scared to turn around. However, despite your better judgement you did just that. 

The groom stood in shock, evidently unable to come to terms with the sight he was seeing. One moment his new wife was safe within his arms, dancing as if it was only two of them in the universe, the next she was below him, swimming with seaweed. Then, his form began to tremble, a telltale sign that what was to come was nowhere near the realms of good. 

He turned around with searing red eyes, a wrinkled nose and bared teeth. The eyes of the bull met the petrified, and his stubby, squared and well-manicured finger pointed directly at you. 

“You fucking bitch!” He roared.

You jumped, feeling yourself cling to J. His arm wrapped around you reassuringly and although you trusted him with your life, being confronted by a raging groom was still nonetheless intimidating. The groom who apparently cared more about telling you off than helping his wife, who was still floundering in the crashing waves, began his march over to you. 

“Do you know who I am?” He continued, and you wondered if he was still aware there was a crowd around. J almost instantly stood in front of you and had to hunch further to scowl at your aggressor.

“What was that?” J grabbed the man in front of him and slipped the blade hidden in his sleeve between the groom’s lips, angling it against the crease of his mouth. 

“Hmm? Why not try your luck, princess. Say it again.” 

The groom froze, the flicker of fear evident even on your end, though he kept up his brutish facade. 

“You’re both going to be 6 feet under when my dad’s through with you.” 

“Aww… run along to daddy so he can fix all your problems,” you could hear the pout in your boyfriend’s voice, comfortable and in your eyes even elated, to spit out the toxins he’d been gathering from just being here all day.

“So you do know who I am–” “The second most spoiled kid of Gotham’s underbelly.” 

“And yet, you’re still holding the knife.” 

“Of course the first would be your brother though, hmm?” J continued, completely ignoring the man's statement.

The groom gritted his teeth. 

“I bet it stings to not be the favourite. To not even have him here on your big day.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” The groom spat, bullseyeing J’s shoe. You saw red pooling at the corner of the man’s mouth, the mere act of expectorating on your boyfriend’s shoe more urgent than self-preservation. 

Yeesh. 

“Now that’s not very hygienic,” J growled, wrinkling his nose. His grip on the knife tightened and in one quick motion, the groom was screaming. 

While you couldn’t see the infliction from where you were positioned, the blood dripping onto the sand was clear as crystal. The screams of those around you were piercing, their horror and disgust forcing you to cling tighter to your boyfriend.

“J, please! That’s enough, it’s okay!” You pulled on his blazer. Feeling the hundreds of widened eyes staring holes into your being was no longer a concern. What mattered most was him. Getting out of here. 

With a quick glance to his right, J met you, then looked back at the groom. 

He smacked his lips. 

“Seems you are lucky,” he purred, the shimmer in his eye reflecting nothing of the warmth he concealed so carefully – nothing of the warmth of when your eyes met. Instead, it was serrated and reflected jeopardy. He possessed the force of a hurricane. A gravity; the way in which he commanded the direction of things and uprooted the fortitude of the righteous, the sure, a mothernatured finesse. 

He looked back at you again before shifting his hold on the man, fisting his wrinkled and bloodied shirt, then barked, “why don’t you go join your blushing bride?” 

With the element of surprise, J raised his knee and shot it between the man’s legs, the man falling down almost as fast as the foreign presence made an impact. You could have sworn someone at the corner of your eye jolted, most likely fearing the worst while others let out shrieks. Fear of the unknown, the seduction of one’s imagination and its ability to fill in blanks was the most manipulatable aspect of consciousness. Rather than bleeding out and rocking lifeless against the cradling waves like so many had thought, the groom sat there, soaking in the shame of defeat and crimson. He hollered while his new wife crawled to his side. 

“Tell your precious father I said ‘hi.’”

All eyes now turned to you both as you speedily departed, J dragging you along once more. The colony of sand in your shoe that had begun its formation hours ago was well in its breeding season now, the leathery insole most likely buried along with the newly wed’s marriage. Before you fully exited the cooperative crowd, forever to forget the merging faces of horror, two familiar ones caught your eye. 

Hah!

“Some date, huh?” You smiled, staring at your mother straight on. The way her face twisted up in a myriad of emotions – surprise, disgust, embarrassment – was something you’d never forget. You were sure you destroyed her little snobbish social circle by the mere association. Pride swelled in your chest, a childish victory that didn’t seem so childish when you later reflected on your relationship with her. 

When the two of you escaped back to the van successfully, there was a moment of contemplation. 

“I – heh – think that went well!” J laughed to himself, rounding his body to face you, “you think your parents like me?” 

“I think I should be asking the same to myself,” you said.  

“Cheer up buttercup, at least your parents know you’re not dying alone anymore.”

“To be honest, after that shitshow they’d probably prefer it,” a sigh left your lips and you began to bite them, unconscious of the small action until the taste of metal blew up your taste buds.

“Eh. Who needs parents, anyway?” 

You began to fiddle with your hands, suddenly finding them incredibly interesting. From the lack of interruptions you concluded he knew you were miles away, trapped in the wilderness of your own thoughts.  

“So I’m guessing you only came because you found out whose wedding it was.”

It took a lot to break the silence, and the air suddenly shifted to a heaviness. You weren’t sure you were the only one tensing. 

J clicked his tongue but didn’t answer. 

“It’s okay… I think I’ve had my fill of weddings for a while, anyway. And parents. And honestly, maybe people,” you answered for him, despite the swirl of hurt brewing in your gut. 

He breathed out his amusement. The lack of transience had you swallowing, frantic to keep the growing weight on your chest from expanding – from consuming your entire being with emptiness. You didn’t know how long you had until the stampede made its mark, the thunderous thuds of terror already echoing in the distance. 

Those were only thoughts you could entertain alone, sunken in the decaying paradise of your bed. 

Silence prevailed again.

Dazed and lost of direction, you remained fixated on the lines of your palms. 

“The husband had a temper. You know, I thought they were so lovely at first.”

“That’s what they want you to believe. Their little golden castles sparkle in the sun and it’s only until the rain pours that you can see them for what they really are. Wet cardboard. Looks can be deceiving.” 

“They certainly can be,” you looked up at him, smiling softly. 

Even with the friction, you slowly reached up to cup his face. This time on his end, there was no fear or hesitation. Instead, just an unspoken mutual trust between two wandering souls. You looked down at his lips while your thumbs stroked the hidden lines of his scars. The gentle caresses wore down the makeup until finally they were visible again. 

The marks of a survivor – beautiful and bold.

“Wait,” he said, the word simple and yet so labyrinthine. He reared back and looked at his hands while your own moved to rest on your knees. Curled into fists, his slowly unclamped like a blooming flower. What they revealed had your heart thumping, dancing its rhythm in your throat. You felt your eyes widen and the sadness immediately leave you, as if all its colour had been drained from you. You felt like a 1930’s cartoon, so shaken to the core that all you could see was greyscale. 

“It wasn’t the only reason,” he whispered, the commanding presence absent.  

He cleared his throat and finally looked up at you, “in fact, these were my only reason.” 

“You son of a bitch,” you bit your tongue in awe at the binding pieces of metal in his hands. They twinkled in the holiday rays, beckoning, unuttering whispers of fabrication. Was the weight of those dual bands as heavy as his heart? As heavy as the solemn expression as he processed your jabbing words?

“I-I know it’s not much but–” he stuttered, and was promptly interjected. 

“Oh! No, no, no! I didn’t mean–” 

You both smiled. Yours wide and brazen, his small and seraphic. 

“My J. Always starting fights, always getting what he wants,” you took the ring from his finger and darted to your left hand, slipping it on its rightful throne, “how can I resist?”  

You kissed him mellowed and full of saccharine and he sighed, his reciprocation just as tender despite the usual dash of coarseness. 

“Mine,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. He fluttered his eyes shut and his breathing began to steady. 

“Mine,” you whispered. 

In all that was and all that ever could be, never would you have believed such a moment possible. Magical and idiosyncratic, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Nothing big and extravagant in front of many eyes. Just the two of you, inside what you now considered the best moment of your life. What many described as a lock and chain, a prison for the rest of one’s life, you would describe as the only thing you had ever wanted. As much as before, everything felt complete. 

Supernal.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that, breathing in unison, basking in each other. All you knew was that it was all too soon when you hit the road again, starting the long journey back to Gotham. After a lot of the same scenery – trees, cars, rocks, more cars and occasional bodies of water – your eyes had become leaden. Resting became impossible to oppose and before long your eyes gave into its stinging demand. 

Somewhere within the haze of half-consciousness, a mysterious material was draped over you. It was silken on the inside, your arms softly grazing it occasionally, and linen on the outside, your chin brushing over it when passing uneven roads. Subtle ripples of cologne drifted from the fabric as you finally fell prey to sleep’s siren song. 

“Sleep well, sweetpea,” lulled a sweet voice. 

#Joker #The Dark Knight #TDK #Joker x reader #fanfiction #My Writing #heath ledger joker x reader #Heath Ledger Joker #Dk!Joker #The joker x reader #DC #dceu x reader #dceu fandom #dceumovies #dceu #dceu joker #Christopher Nolan Batman #Christopher Nolan Joker #tdk series #tdk joker #tdk fanfiction #x reader #Self Insert #dark knight joker #joker x you #joker x y/n #heath ledger #heath joker #heath joker x reader #hysteriium

[miru5llec]

One of the things that rub me the WRONG way is when people say that Elain is BoRiNG on Twitter and Tik Tok. Like????? Listen to what I have to say. And I’m sorry in advance for how long this post is.

After Nesta deals with the mortal queens, the only bad guy left is Koschei. I don’t think that Koschei is going to have a big role in this book, he’s probably gonna have some mentions throughout the story and help the mortal queens when necessary given the fact that he most probably is the “dangerous new alliance”. Why do I think Koschei is not going to be part of Nesta’s story? Because she has nothing to do with him, nothing has been teased or forshadowed in the books and she would not be able to kill him given the fact that he can’t die and she doesn’t know where the chest containing his mortality is.

Which leads me to Elain who is THE ONLY one who has a connection with him, aside from the mortal queens and Vassa. In ACOWAR, she has a vision about an onyx chest. According to legend, Koschei’s mortality is contained in a needle that’s placed somewhere highly inconvenient and very far. But, finding and breaking it is the only way to destroy him. It’s hidden in an egg, inside a duck, inside a hare that's inside an onyx chest; the chest is buried under the roots of an oak tree, which grows on an island at an undisclosed location in the middle of the ocean-sea.

If Koschei can’t die, why should he be afraid of Nesta or the IC? He has literally no reason at all. BUT there comes Elain who has the slighthest idea of where his mortality might be. It’s only logical that Koschei will be at least a little threatend by that. My theory is that when Koschei will find out that Elain is a seer, he’s going to start manipulating her. Like an Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov kind of situation. Imagine him being constantly in Elain’s mind, trying to make her leave her family behind and join him. And that’s why I believe that something very bad happened to Elain while she was in the Cauldron.

I also do think that Koschei is to blame for seers being so rare. Imagine if they weren’t and 6 out of 10 seers would have had visions about the place where that chest is burried, he would stand no chance. I mean what chances do you have against someone who, if trained accordingly, knows every step you’re going to take, who thinks ahead of you and takes in consideration every foreseeable future. Let me answer it for you. None. Seers can literally change the future and mold it to their wishes. But Elain is BoRiNg, right?

And also, don’t you ever wonder about what exactly the mortal queens will give Koschei to have him on their side? He is going to give them his protection and alliance for what? It can’t be for free and surely not cheap. A SEER would make some kind of sense, I mean they are a rarity. But I don’t think the mortal queens know about Elain being a seer, but maybe Koschei will find out? I mean he kinda is one of the most if not the strongest warlock to exist in the ACOTAR world.

And now let me tell you why Elain and Azriel will most probably end up together. So let’s say that Elain figures out where the box is located, she will need at least a little bit of help. Who will give her his constant suport? Azriel. Who will most probably train Elain in combat? Azriel. Elain will go to the mortal lands so she could meet with Vassa and question her about Koschei. Who will be with her every step of the way? Azriel. Who will sail with her to the Faerie Realms so they could kill the Death God? Azriel. And probably Lucien too, though I doubt it. Who will train Elain to be a spy so they could gather information about Koschei? Azriel. It just makes sense. I’m not going to give you whole speech on why elriel will most likely happen when you have amaizing people who already explained it, but you got the idea. And more importantly, if Elain and Azriel will truly leave Prythian, we would have the chance to see how the Faerie Realms actually are.

A lot of people started shipping Emerie and Azriel (and I’m not saying you’re wrong, you can ship whatever you want), but if we put these two together, what would they add to the plot? Nothing. Let’s say that Azriel and Emerie (even though she has nothing to do with Koschei) decide to track Koschei down and they find him, how would they find the box, or what is in it? They would need the help of a certain seer 👀 Like I said, I don’t think that Emerie and Azriel will add anything to the plot and their story would end in like 200 pages. ACOSF will take place in Ilyria and it’s unlikely that the next book will also take place there.

Let’s talk a little bit about Elain and Lucien too. I still do think that there is a posibility that they will end up together, I mean we don’t know what cards SJM will pull at the end. And again, like I said above with Emerie and Azriel, they would add nothing to the plot. Feel free to disagree with me, I don’t mind, but I believe they would be boring, sorry not sorry. Give me Lucien x Vassa, give me Lucien learning about his true father, let me see him going to the autumn court to wreak havoc, give me him talking and clarifying things with Eris, give me Eris justifying his actions, give me Lucien talking about Jesminda, give me Vassa being the Queen of the mortal lands, give me Vassa and Lucien fighting Beron alongside eachother, give me Helion being a true father and helping his son, give me the story of Lucien’s mother and Helion, give me Lucien, Vassa and Jurian being a comedic trio, give me their stories. There’s so many things Sarah could do with Lucien that doesn’t involve his mating bond with Elain.

Sometimes I come across people, especially on Tik Tok, who want Elain to die, but Lucien would suffer so let’s keep her alive for now. Can’t you see how messed up that is? Like Elain is an object with no feelings and her only purpose in the future books is to accept the mating bond. She can say no. She can reject the mating bond and she can continue ingnoring Lucien if she wants to. A lot of people don’t realize that when the mating bond snapped into place, it was in one of the most traumatic experiences of Elain’s life. She has every right to deal with this in her own ways. Do I think that her ignoring Lucien till the end of times will be any good for them? No. She will have to face him one day, and that day will be when she wants it to be or when Lucien had enough of staying on the side lines and thinks that it’s finally time to face her.

I have to laugh every time when people ignore the fact that in one of the 2018 interviews, SJM said that during her pregnancy she started gardening and shifting to Elain’s mind and how she is going to have visions about ivory strangling her in her sleep (and a very interesting thing that ties ivory to my Koschei theory is that ivory does grow on oak trees 👀) And also it wouldn’t make sense for her to write Feyre and Nesta’s story and then skip to another character. And at the end of ACOSF we will have Azriel’s POV so... I think that confirmed elriel at least a little bit. But again, we don’t know what Nesta’s book will bring us.

Elain is BoRiNg! We don’t know anything that goes in Elain’s mind or how things are from Elain’s perspective. I think that Elain tries to repulse every negative emotion, especially anger. I think that Elain is hiding behind a very well constructed mask and at some point that mask is going to break and she’s going to snap. Remember when Elain whispered that she hopes they all burn in hell (they being the mortal queens), I think that we got to see a little bit of who Elain Archeron truly is. When she hit those hounds with her feet and when she stabbed the King of Hybern in the neck, it’s not out of character. That is the true Elain. Don’t you ever think that maybe Elain wants people to underestimate her, to think of her as weak so she can have the upper hand in any situation? GOD for all we know Elain could be growing poison in her garden. Anything it’s possible. But for sure she’s not as dumb and naive as Feyre’s perspective makes her out to be.

But the most fascinating thing to me is Elain’s powers, a seer’s powers in general because there’s so much you can do with the ability of seeing the future. Imagine her fighting after she masters her powers: her dodging every arrow, every sword blow because she already knows when and where they are going to hit, her knowing where and how to strike her opponents harder. Her powers can go in so many directions. I can’t wait to see her journey going from being only Feyre and Nesta’s sister to a badass seer spy. But yeah sure don’t buy her book after ACOSF because for sure it will be BoRiNg!

But before we get to her book, Nesta’s story will come out in 2 months and, for sure, her journey will make us want more of the ACOTAR universe. Can’t wait for ACOSF.

#elain archeron #koschei #elriel #acosf #lucien #lucien x vassa #azriel #emerie #azriel x emerie

[opaldraws]

Dandelion

Billy never thought that he would become a dad. Besides believing that it wouldn’t be possible for a person like him, he also was scared shitless. He’d seen first hand what happens when the wrong kind of person became a parent, he knew how screwed up things could get. He had this huge fear that he would ruin a kid’s life. And even though Steve had assured him countless times that Billy would be a fantastic dad if they were to have a kid, he also accepted that Billy wasn’t ready for fatherhood and he may never be. So Steve never pushed the idea.

Then Max had a baby.

Out of the pair, no one expected Billy would be the one hit with baby fever.

Max was only able to get three weeks of leave from her work, so Billy volunteered to help out with little Julien. Julien was precious: He slept for long hours and rarely cried, he loved playing peek-a-boo and was easily entertained by crinkly paper, and when he got especially fussy, all Billy had to do was put him in his swing and Julien would knock right out.

Billy would come home from Max and Lucas’ and gush to Steve about whatever him and Julien got up to that day. It was usually the same sort of stuff, babies don’t really do that much, but Steve would listen fondly to Billy’s report while they cooked dinner together. Eventually Max found a sitter and changed her work hours, so Billy didn’t spend as much time with the runt.

A few years passed and Billy mentioned having kids of their own. Steve and him were in bed, the light on the nightstand casting enough light for Billy to read but not too much that Steve couldn’t doze off.

“Steve.” Billy ruffled Steve’s hair gently, letting his hand wander down to rub his back. Steve blinked over at him sleepily, his eyes a little unfocused without his glasses.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, frowning.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just… I’ve been thinking lately, maybe we could look into adoption?” Billy wrung his hands together nervously. When Steve didn’t answer immediately, Billy interjected, “Only if you want to, of course! Fuck, nevermind. It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

Billy picked his book up, not able to look back at his partner. Steve hadn’t seen him this nervous since Billy had asked him to marry him. This conversation caught Steve off guard- and not only because he was half asleep. They’d talked about kids before when they were freshly married (technically unofficially, but whatever), Billy said he didn’t think he’d ever want to go down that path. And now, Billy was bringing it up.

“Babe, it’s not stupid.” Steve said seriously. “I want to do that with you.”

...

Adoption for two gay men in 2000 wasn’t easy. They were basically at the bottom of the ‘list’ of candidates and they’d been through multiple near adoptions that eventually fell through in just the past two years. Steve was beginning to lose hope, but Billy stayed determined. He called the adoption agency every week and he stopped by in person once a month. Steve told him he was probably bothering the agency, he said that they had their application and when the right kid came along, everything would work out. Billy’s perspective wasn’t quite as rose-colored as Steve’s: He realized that the agency didn’t want a same-sex couple adopting a baby. They may not outright say it, but he could tell. Billy wanted to show them that they were just as serious as any other couple.

In November of 2001, they got the call from the agency. The weekend before they brought their daughter home, Billy and Steve prepared the second bedroom for their new addition. Steve excitedly put up a fresh coat of paint while Billy struggled through assembling furniture for the bedroom. When they finished, they stood side by side in the doorway, misty eyed and excited for their daughter’s homecoming.

“We’re going to be parents.” Steve sighed, he let his head fall to Billy’s shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m so scared.” Billy admitted. He took a deep breath and tried to ease the panic creeping in. Steve gently wrapped his arms around him, pulling Billy in to hold him. Billy sagged into the hug.

“I am too, but I know it’s gonna be okay.” Steve said.

“How could you know that though?” Billy asked fearfully. So many things could go wrong, what if this was a mistake? Steve tightened his arms around Billy and leaned them against the doorframe.

“Because I know you. I’ve seen you grow into the man you are today and I know you’re going to be an amazing dad.”

...

Billy knew that for every developmental milestone that Abby passed, he should be excited. Don’t get him wrong, he was beyond happy to see his daughter growing and becoming a little person… but he also got sad? Abby was growing up so fast, one day she was crawling around on the carpet and the next she was racing around the apartment wreaking havoc. It felt like only a few days ago she drooled and needed to be spoon fed, now she was talking in barely formed sentences. Sometimes Billy would just curl up next to Steve in bed at night and have to cry about how big Abby was getting. Steve would rub his back, comforting his partner as best as he could. These breakdowns started happening more frequently as Abby’s 2nd birthday got nearer and nearer. Billy was aware that he was being dramatic, but his little girl was growing up way too fast. He felt like he was going to blink and then she’d be gone, old enough not to need her dads anymore.

“Billy, stop worrying about the future, Abby’s barely two! You have got to just live for today.” Max scolded him during one of Abby’s and Julien’s playdates after he had opened up to her. It was a sunny June day and Julien was happily keeping Abby occupied on a blanket in Lucas and Max’s yard. Lucas had been called out of town for a work emergency and Steve had gotten stuck covering a late shift. The step-siblings watched the kids from the porch, periodically bringing out new toys and snacks.

“Yeah, that’s what Steve keeps telling me. That’s what everyone keeps telling me, shitbird.” Billy huffed, rolling his eyes. “I can’t help it!”

“Listen to me, I felt the same way. Every time I had to go into work, every time I left Julien with you or Lucas, or the babysitter, I was so afraid that I was missing out on his childhood. Even when I was with him, all I could think about was how I could never get this moment back. But it’s useless to think that way! I realized that I couldn’t stop time from passing so I needed to enjoy it while it lasted!” Max insisted. She grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Billy squeezed back. Even though Max was younger than him, he appreciated the wisdom she occasionally provided. He was happy that their days of fighting and heated arguing were left behind at the house on Cherry Lane.

Billy looked out at the yard, he watched the way Abby would giggle when Julien ran circles around her with his toy airplane. She made grabby hands at him and squealed, “My turn!” Julien passed the toy plane to her and she zoomed it around. Max gave his shoulder a hard pat and announced that she was going to get food ready. Billy walked over to the rainbow blanket and sat down beside the duo.

“Daddy attack!” Abby jumped up, discarding the airplane to wrap her arms around his shoulders and climb onto his back. He held onto her chubby little legs and she laughed into his ear. He tried not to dwell on the future, let himself enjoy the moment. “Down.” Abby instructed him and he helped her back to the ground. She plucked a nearby dandelion from the ground and held it to Billy triumphantly. “Present for you.”

“Thank you baby, I love it.” He smiled at her, taking the dandelion. She beamed at him, clearly happy that her gift was well received. He tucked the yellow flower into the breast pocket of his shirt. Julien came bounding up to them excitedly, hiding something behind his back.

“I have a present for you too, Uncle Billy!” Julien grinned and offered him a wiggling pink worm clasped between his fingers. Billy chuckled and took the worm and Julien bounded off - probably to find more worms.

Abby went back to playing with the airplane and some of Julien’s matchbox cars. She pretended that Billy’s arm was the road and rolled the cars over it, back and forth. Every so often, she would show Billy a new car, telling him which color it was or if she liked it or not. Steve had been working on colors with her a lot recently, and Abby had gotten into the habit of pointing out the colors of things frequently. It was really adorable and she always looked proud when she got the color right. And when Billy would catch those intrusive thoughts about the future, he gave it his all not to dwell on them and instead focus on Abby rolling her car over his arm. Max rejoined them with a big plate of fruit and sandwiches to share for an early dinner, calling Julien over to eat.

Before Billy knew it, a few hours had passed and the sun was beginning to set. He helped Max bring all the toys back in the house and the kids savored the last few minutes of light while they cleaned up. Billy caught a glimpse of the clock on his trip inside; It was nearing 7pm and Steve would be arriving soon to pick them up. Billy and Max tried to coax the kids inside with the promise of a movie, but Julien had other ideas.

“Five more minutes? Please? Momma, I wanna see the fireflies!” Julien tugged at Max’s pant legs, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. “I promise I’ll be good for bedtime!” For a five year old, Julien was quite the negotiator. Of course Max caved which meant that Abby also got to chase the growing number of fireflies blinking around the yard. Billy couldn’t help but grin watching the cousins running around- and periodically jumping up- to try and catch the glowing bugs. After struggling to jump high enough to reach any of the fireflies, Abby pouted at Billy.

“Hold me?” She asked and how could Billy say no? He lifted her up in the air and she swung her little hands around, attempting to catch at least one bug. Billy could tell that she was getting frustrated when each time she came back fruitless. Abby got distracted by Julien showing Max all of the bugs he had captured, a faint green-ish yellow glow coming from his closed fists. “Daddy! Want one.” Abby’s chin wobbled - one of her tell tale signs that a meltdown was coming.

“Okay honey, I’ll get you one.” He smiled and moved her so that she was propped on his hip. They walked slowly around the yard together and Billy caught one for her. He helped her get it in her hand and her eyes widened. “Now you’ve got to be real careful, you don’t want to squish it right?” Abby shook her head no, wanting to keep her new friend forever. Billy watched the way she would peek into her fist to catch a glimpse of the small bug, finding it sweet how gentle she treated it. She kissed the top of her hand and said “I love you” to the tiny insect hidden within. Billy was so transfixed with her that he didn’t notice Steve’s arrival; It startled him when a hand met the small of his back. Abby lit up even more once she saw Steve.

“Papa look! Bug!” She opened up her hand to show Steve the bug, but the firefly took the opportunity to make its escape and flew off into the night sky before Abby could close her hand. She gasped and tried to reach for it in a futile attempt. Here comes the meltdown... or so Billy thought.

“Oh Abby, it was such a beautiful firefly! Looked like it was a really good flyer too huh?” Steve smiled and Abby only pouted a little. “Now it’s going to go home and tell all of its friends about you. And we gotta go home too sweetheart, it’s getting pretty late. Let’s say bye to Julien and Aunt Max, okay?” Steve was great at de-escalating a situation, he always knew exactly the right thing to say to stop Abby’s tears. Billy put Abby back down on her feet so that she could go over to Max and Julian to say goodbye. Steve turned to Billy and gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking his hand and walking them over to the trio waiting for them.

“Seems like you were able to get out of your head today, I’m glad.” Max said to Billy during their hug.

Once their farewells were said and done and they were all loaded up into Steve’s car, the small family made the short drive back home. Steve’s hand rested over Billy’s atop his thigh, periodically giving it a light, reassuring squeeze.

Back home, Steve carried a sleepy Abby in from the car and straight to her bed (he hated for her to miss brushing her teeth, but made an exception because of the long day she had had). While Steve helped Abby get settled in, Billy headed into their bedroom. He picked one of the heavier hardcover books off the bookshelf and pulled the dandelion out of his pocket. He tucked the wilting flower between the pages, saving it so that he could remember the day. Steve came into the bedroom as he was reshelving the book, he walked straight to Billy and wrapped his arms around him.

“Had a good day?” Steve asked. Billy twisted in his grip, turning to face Steve. They shared a few slow kisses, with no intention to escalate, only to be in each other’s space after being apart for the day. Billy pulled back, hands still holding onto Steve’s waist securely.

“Yeah, it was really good.” He smiled. Sure Abby was growing up, but they had so many years ahead of them, so many warm summer days just like this one. Although Billy didn’t expect he could completely quell his anxieties about the future, he was ready to start enjoying the moments as they happened.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #dads!harringrove #my fic

[altcvnningham]

georgia!! do uhm 1 to 13 and then 25, 28, and 29 :)

WOW thas a whole lotta questions I'M SO EXCITED

also keep in mind that i'm still the one person on earth who hasn't fully played mafia 3!! so most or maybe all of these r gonna be biased towards mafia de + 2 <3

thank u for the ask i adore u :*

1. What is your favorite game from the whole trilogy?

mafia 2 because i get to dress vito in little outfits like a barbie doll of the setting and plot :)

2. Who are your favorite characters and why?

vito, joe, paulie, and [looks at smudged writing on hand] horny trombonist

ANYWAY vito bc uhhh see question 3

joe bc haha funny man but also has a huge heart and unflinching loyalty and ugly shirt

paulie bc haha funny man but also has a huge heart and unflinching loyalty and-- wait

henry bc uhhhhhh fhfhfhnfnfuhhhhh holfd my hand,,,..............

3. Which character do you connect with the most?

uhhhh mostly vito and henry just bc they both have this certain like,, defensive aloofness and awkwardness that i find really relatable and oddly endearing, and i think that they both like to put on this tough front that is just So Fragile- bc they're just stupid softies deprived of affection and that just vibes w me yknow

also to me vito seems to inhabit a kind of naïvety, and sometimes i think he associates w things the way a kid would,,, not in an infantilising way, but having simplistic pleasures, not being able to forsee/care about consequences, and possessing a kind of "everything's going to be okay" mentality. like,, "oh as long as i'm with my best friends it's gonna be okay. nothing bad's gonna happen" and then henry dies and it's like "well time to wreak absolute havoc and go on a fucking massacre. don't see how this could ever backfire lol",,,, and idk there's something about it that never comes off as "stupid" to me the way it might to other people- vito isn't dumb he just cares so, so fucking much about those he loves that it like, never occurs to him that it could all fall apart with just one wrong move and. ANYWAY

also my chest hurts whenever i see ralphie bc i used to have a stutter that was just like his akdhsjsk 🥺👉👈

4. Which character is scarily close to how you act?

joe not taking fucking anything seriously and thinking he's a comedian and acting like a little slut and swearing too much

5. Which characters do you dislike and why?

ummm uhhh,,,,..???? won't lie salieri kinda annoys me but i'm positive half of it is bc of the dog thing and then the other half is bc in mafia de he doesn't have like an Italian Gangster Accent™️ like he just speaks like a normal guy??? also i think i could take him in a fight he looks like he has shaky knees

every single fucking race driver npc in fair play yall can die forreal

6. What were your favorite songs from each Mafia game?

WAHHHHH DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU

i'm extremely partial to django reinhardt (thanks bioshock) so whenever any of his songs are in mafia de i go a little bit crazy

ummm in mafia 2 i got so excited the first time i heard billy ward and the dominoes' rendition of rags to riches that i drove vito off of a bridge and died which i now accept as a canon ending

the first time i listened to keep me hangin' on by vanilla fudge in mafia 3 i actually had to sit down and just Stare because holy shit. Holy ShSET ME FREE WHY DOOOON'T YOU BAAAAAAAABE GET OUT MY LIFE WHY DON'T YOU BAAAAAAABE YOU REALLY DON'T WANT MEEEEEEEEE YOU JUST KEEP M

also i can't remember if happy feet by cab calloway was in mafia de or 2 but i was OBSESSED w that song for like 2 months straight

7. Your favorite ship and why? (OCs can be included.)

vito/henry, vito/joe, vito/henry/joe or die

henry/having a long warm hug and some therapy

8. Which character shares your sense of fashion?

sarah w the pretty blouse + skirt combo and i have a beautiful collection of vintage men's coats that nearly come down to my ankles, and i own one that looks very similar to tommy's in that one mission where he goes out to the country in the rain :) i wish there were more prominent female characters in mafia 2 bc i incorporate a lot of 40s-50s accessories and silhouettes into my wardrobe!!

9. The last Mafia game you played/watched, you so happened to get trapped in. How would you react and what would be the first thing you did?

well considering i like to frequently play mafia de for free-roam around lost heaven (i would KILL to have mafia 2 free-roam), i think i would be very happy to walk around and look at all the pretty lights :')

10. If you could give a hug to any character(s), who would they be?

henry bc that mf NEEDS it also i need it he could fix me

and then immediately joe paulie n lincoln bc they look like they give THE BEST hugs

11. Which character do you think is underrated?

frank colletti considering he went on a whole ass rant about this bitch dog that got fucked by all the neighbourhood chad dogs and then fully told tommy "you're the bitch" like that isn't the funniest fucking thing i've ever heard in my life

12. Which character(s) do you think you would get along with?

paulie bc he likes to be annoying and i also like to be annoying

john donovan i could listen to that clown talk all damn day

13. Which character(s) do you think you would NOT get along with?

marty i fucking hate him im so sorr- [gunshot]

25. This one is a bit silly. Who is a character you would not mind dating?

28. Some things you dislike about Mafia and why?

uhhhhh i feel like the plot of each game could've been fleshed out WAY more, and i won't lie the only reason i don't replay mafia 2 often despite it being my favourite is because i get bored w how formulaic it is and how little there is to do beyond the main story (which,, i understand that a lot was cut,, and i want to go easy on it bc ofc i'm so used to modern games having tons of content,,,,, but like mafia 2 came out the same year as arkham city,, which has a ton of shit to do :/) i get that it isn't easy to translate the tone and 'feel' of iconic mafia films into video games, but like,,,, c'mon why am i replaying fair play for the fucking twelfth time

the casual racism, especially in mafia 2, and i understand that it's staying true to the era but,,,, like shut up oh my god

29. How did you come across the Mafia Trilogy?

??? idk i don't remember one minute i was normal then the next i was making shitty vito fancams two hours before my assessment deadline was due and i've been mentally ill ever since

#long post #im so sorry i dont shut up #anyway THANK U i cant believe how many u gave me !! #mafia #mafia de #mafia 2 #mafia 3

[jolinarjackson]

Hey! Do you have any irondad fic recs? I just started reading Peter and Tony fics again and I would love any recs you have!

Hello!

Yes, I do! :D It's by no means complete because I am still busy compiling, but I have quite a few already.

For all the below stories, please heed the tags and warnings on AO3. And of course, feel also free to check out my stories. :)

My AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JolinarJackson/works

The below fics are not compiled in any particular order.

If I Die Young by MusicalLuna

Summary: Tony and Steve are trying to keep their little boy (who's not so little anymore) out of the superhero business for as long as possible, but when a kid's as stubborn as Peter is, they can't always stop him.

And sometimes things go wrong. Really, really wrong.

Categories: Superfamily, Not MCU!Peter Parker

Comment: This is a wonderful whump story that I go back to again and again.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/423790

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Lightning in a Bottle by Gruoch

Summary: Peter takes the tablet and looks down at the screen, where a picture of Spider-Man intimately entangled in a passionate embrace with Johnny Storm is displayed across the majority of the Daily Bugle’s home page. TORCH CAUGHT IN SPIDER-MAN’S WEB, the headline reads, bracketed by spider and flame emojis. Peter looks back up at Tony, who is still staring at him completely stone-faced.

Tony reaches across the island and taps the screen. “So. What do you have to say about that?”

“Well. For one, I’m a little disappointed with the headline,” Peter offers.

Tony lets his chin drop against his chest, momentarily defeated, before taking a deep breath and once more skewering Peter with a hard look. “You could have at least given me some warning that the two of you are...I mean, I had my suspicions, but—”

“You’re misconstruing the situation. Spider-Man and the Torch are dating,” Peter explains. “Johnny and I are just friends.”

“Boy, you’re really leaning hard into this whole alter ego thing, aren’t you?” Tony deadpans. “How’s that working out for you?”

Categories: Irondad, SpideyTorch

Comment: I love stories taking advantage of the havoc that secret superhero identities can wreak on romantic relationships. The best about this particular story is the witty writing, which makes Peter being a chaotic mess in this even better.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23413219

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The doubts that complicate by @frostysunflowers

Summary: "But he’s smart!" May had blurted, looking up at the teacher with misplaced anger. "I don’t...how does this make sense?"

She was worried, unaware, unprepared, not like Peter who had known for a while that some things were trickier for him than other kids. All the rules hidden in cheerful little rhymes and singing songs about which letters get along and those who don’t play nice; all the robotic reciting of the alphabet nearly every day: none of it had ever truly helped Peter understand how it all worked.

A brand new door opened in his life that day. On the front of it, the word ‘DYSLEXIC’ was printed in bold, the certainty of what it meant holding the letters permanently in place.

or

Nobody ever said being smart was easy.

Categories: Irondad

Comment: This is a wonderful read. @frostysunflowers manages to describe dyslexia in a way that makes the struggle understandable. The relationship between Tony and Peter is heart-warming. This is a great read if you're in the mood for something that is not too long and still want a good dosage of H/C.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23989531

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Accepting the Tides by Emma_Anacortes

Summary: Tony had dragged Peter from the depths of despair after May's death. It was normal that he'd grown to care a little about him, right?

Yeah, okay. He freaking loved the kid.

So naturally he would feel a little weird when Richard Parker randomly shows up in Peter's life. Naturally he'd feel protective, nervous, and confused because where has Richard been all this time? And why does Tony feel sick every time he sees him around Peter?

All he knows is if Richard hurts his kid, Tony's gonna give him hell.

Categories: Irondad, Steve & Peter

Comment: This story is intense, no doubt about it. Please heed all the warnings and tags carefully. However, if you give it a try, it's so worth it. This story presents a different backstory to the relationship of Peter and his parents (especially his father) while exploring Peter and Tony forging a father/son-bond in the wake of May's death. I have to say that the the relationship between Peter and Steve in this story is just as prominent and amazingly written. I loved every second of it.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11885844/chapters/26843274

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with arms wide open by @parkrstark

Summary: Tony and Pepper are expecting a baby and Peter may be the one most excited...just maybe…

Categories: Irondad, Pepperony

Comment: This is undeniably cute and heart-warming: Tony and Pepper get pregnant and Peter is right there with them, freaking out. Peter spends this story preparing to become a big brother while still being unsure about whether this is the role he is going to fulfill in the baby's life. This stoy focsses on the found family that is Tony, Pepper and Peter, but there are wonderful interactions with May, Rhodey and Happy as well.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14540409

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the stars the moon they have all been blown out (you left me in the dark) by @madasthesea

Summary: It starts off with his vision fading in and out.

What kind of demon drug can make someone go blind by inhaling a single lungful? Whatever it is, Tony doubts it’s reversible. And while Peter’s no idiot, he can be idiotically optimistic. He's determined to fix what appears to be unfixable.

Categories: Irondad

Comment: This story is experienced entirely from Tony's point of view, which make the effects of the drug and his reaction to it all the more poignant. Tony's relationship to Peter is especially highlighted in this story. You can only imagine the worry and pain Peter geos through unil the very end of the story and the pay-off is worth it. I want to highlight the way that Tony's experiecne of the effects of the drug are described here, because I thought that was superb writing and put the reader righ in Tony's shoes.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795141/chapters/36757500

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turn back the clock (and I'll try again in the morning) by @madasthesea

Summary: Peter gets stuck in a time loop. In it, he lives through some of his worst nightmares, only to wake up that morning and have no one remember. He needs Tony to help him get through.

And if that isn't bad enough, his identity is revealed over and over, every day.

Categories: Irondad

Comment: This story is just SO GOOD. Not only is Peter experiencing the same day over and over again and his identity is revealed, but the way it happens also gets more and more taxing and gruesome. This story has emotional highpoints that are written fantastically and the Irondad in this is just heart-warming.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18023177/chapters/42585071

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How The Mighty Fall by Meep_Morp

Summary: Since his duel against Toomes on Coney Island, Peter's life has settled down considerably. May knows about his double life and accepts it (mostly). Tony has welcomed him back, and given him more independence as New York's Spider-Man.

One night during patrol he crosses paths with Connor, a teenager who has Extremis in his blood and answers to the wrong kind of people. Though Tony is quick to distrust him, Peter finds himself reluctant to follow his mentor's lead, and a bond develops between the two boys. Their relationship is further complicated when Connor's former master, Negative, makes it a personal mission to destroy them both in his quest for power.

Taking down a superpowered psychopath? Tough, but Peter isn't going to back down.

Stopping Tony from blasting his first potential boyfriend into space? He might need a miracle for that.

Categories: Irondad

Comment: This story is so intricately plotted and just a joy to read. The characters are written to perfection and this includes an absolutely fantastic and fleshed-out OC who, as a reader, you come to care about easily and quickly. Much more subtle is the relationship between Peter and Tony in this fic but every single scene is on-point. I have read and re-read this story several times and it is hard to put aside once you start.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084407/chapters/42745826

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Project Pride by TheSleepingOwl

Summary: In hindsight, it should have been obvious. The signs were all there, unwittingly scattered by Peter like breadcrumbs for Tony to follow—the way he would fall into uncomfortable silence when the topic of dating came up, or become flustered whenever Tony teased him about the mysterious Michelle-Call-Me-MJ character Peter was constantly gushing about, or deflect Tony’s mostly-joking inquiries into whether or not they needed to be having The Talk with a hurricane of splutters and blushes.

And even without the signs, Peter was still his kid. Tony was just supposed to know these things.

So when FRIDAY pulled up Peter’s search history—‘how can i make myself not like boys,’ ‘can you force yourself to be attracted to girls,’ ‘how to stop your friends from knowing youre gay,’ and, most devastating, ‘how can i keep my parents from finding out im gay’—Tony wasn’t surprised so much as deeply, unquantifiably ashamed. Because he should have known.

Categories: Irondad

Comment: This story is an incredibly written POV of Tony coming to terms with Peter's sexuality. It's achingly realistic in the way Tony struggles to connect to Peter, knowing that he's gay. Additionally, this story has a hefty doese of Hurt/Comfort thrown in that hurts when reading it. This is a gem.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135138/chapters/52834021

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Birds Eating Other Birds by aloneintherain

Summary: Peter wishes he hadn’t gotten out of bed that morning. Then, maybe, he wouldn’t be reduced to this - limp-crawling through the rabbit burrows that is Oscorp Tower, a monster of a man on his heels, bloody and bruised and choking on a panic attack.

Categories: Irondad, not MCU!Peter Parker

Comment: I love aloneintherain's stories. I read them when I first got into Avengers fanfic and the way they write dynamics is great. This one is intense and the way it's written sucks you right into it. Norman Osborn is so evil and creepy in this one. Part one is mainly hurt, but stick around for the comfort in part 2!

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7626433

----- And here are some Avengers team dynamic fics as well -----

It Was Probably The Pudding by Serendipity_Cometh

Summary: Given that over the course of the past eleven months Peter Parker hasn't contracted so much as a head-cold, the teenager thought it safe to assume that the whole 'irradiated spider bite' gig had equipped him with an immune system of steel that rivalled Captain America's.

So when he wakes up one night in the midst of the worst asthma attack he's suffered in almost eight years, neither he nor the rest of the team can think of a logical explanation.

And everything sort of goes downhill from there.

Categories: Team, Stony, Clint/Phil, not MCU!Peter Parker

Comment: When I started out reading Avengers fanfictions, I stumbled across this one and go back to it on a regular basis. Lots of whump and great team dynamics.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953538/chapters/1865305

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In the Home by aloneintherain

Summary: The Avengers have been infected, turned violent and aggressive against their will. And Peter, the only one unaffected, is trapped inside the Tower with six feral teammates.

“Natasha,” Peter says cautiously, “what happened here? Steve attacked me, and if there was ever a sign that something was wrong, it’s having the embodiment of Truth, Justice, and the American Way throw you across the room -”

Natasha comes closer, her stride controlled. Nothing necessarily out of the ordinary, but there’s something in her face, in her eyes -

Natasha lunges across the space, and slams into Peter, hard.

Categories: Team, not MCU!Peter Parker

Comment: One of my very early reads when I started out in the Avengers fandom. Excellent whump, hurt/comfort and team dynamics.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5388563/chapters/12446069

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Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain

Summary: Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

“Spidey, they’ve got reinforcements. We’ve hit a bit of a snag here, and I don’t think anyone will be able to help you for a while. Think you can sit tight while we deal with this?”

The pressure on his lower back and legs was becoming too much. Peter swallowed thickly, fighting down panic. He could handle this.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I can do that.”

Categories: Team, not MCU!Peter Parker

Comment: There are so many "Peter trapped under a building"-stories out there but this is the one I read first and it stuck with me. Loved the team dynamic in this.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4232937

[reinerispretty]

beneath the moon. (sokka x f!reader) pt6

hello and thank u for reading this story!! i hoped u enjoyed last chapter and this one!!

pt1

pt5

pt7

Her father sat in his chair, her mother standing beside him. Both gave her a pleasant but sad smile. (Y/N) took her place on the other side of her father’s chair, trying hard not to think about how there was someone missing from their little family. Her father gave a wave to the servants to open the doors and (Y/N) inhaled a deep breath and put a soft smile on her face.

It immediately fell as Hahn strut into the room, his chin held high as he approached the Chief.

No one had seen (Y/N) in days. After Yue’s sacrifice, her father found her, and escorted her back up to the palace. With heavy hearts, Aang, Katara, and Sokka watched as she stared blankly ahead, looking at things but not quite seeing them. 

The gossip started from the servants within her palace. They told the people of the town that the youngest princess had locked herself in her elder sister’s room and refused to come out. They had tried to coax her out with food, and even paints, but to no avail. Many knocked on the door but received no answer. 

The only time anyone caught a glimpse of (Y/N) was the night of Yue’s funeral. She stood by her parents, dressed in robes of the darkest shade of blue, and watched as the elders of her tribe strapped her sister’s body to a raft and pushed it off to sea. Sokka had watched her that night, wondering if he should go say anything. By the time he mustered up the courage to walk over to her, she was gone, retreating inside the walls of the palace. 

(Y/N) spent most of her time curled in the blankets of Yue’s bed, her body in a tight ball. She covered herself fully, inhaling and exhaling the deep scent that was so purely her sister, it made her eyes water. At night, she dreamt of Yue’s bright blue eyes and smile as bright as a moonbeam. (Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to look out the window yet. She worried that if she did, she’d see Yue’s face shining down on her. 

She knew that eventually, she would be forced to return to the monotony of her everyday life. But she couldn’t. Not yet. It broke her heart to wake up each morning and remember that her sister was gone. (Y/N) had grown up learning about the evils of the Fire Nation, but now she had a hatred in her heart that was so searingly strong, it hurt. If it weren’t for the Fire Nation, her sister would still be alive. 

Aang, Katara, and Sokka tried to visit her every day, multiple times a day. She wanted to see them too, but she was scared that if she saw them she’d be brought back to the day she lost the most important person to her. She feared that she would break down all over again and she absolutely loathed crying in front of people. 

It had been a few days since Yue’s passing when (Y/N) finally decided to pick up the tray of food the servants had left for her outside of Yue’s door. She didn’t know it, but voices rejoiced all around the castle when they learned that the princess had finally eaten. A few days later, she had agreed to be bathed by her servants. They were much more gentler with her than they had ever been before, and while (Y/N) hated being pitied, she didn’t mind them actually being kind to her.  A few days after that, she was informed by her father that she had a visitor. She finally felt well enough to accept company and hoped desperately that it was either Aang or Katara. She didn’t blame Sokka for her sister’s death by any means, but goodness, it hurt to even think about looking at him. He cared about Yue too, she could tell, and she wasn’t quite sure if she’d be able to hold herself together around him. 

She still dressed in her darkest blues to show she was still in mourning, but she actually brushed and braided her hair before she leaving. As she left Yue’s room, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her eyes were rimmed red and puffy from the nights she spent crying. Her cheeks were inflated from her tears and her lips were chewed raw from when she lie awake thinking about all the possible scenarios of how she could have saved her sister. (Y/N) blinked at herself to remind her that she was real and then walked to the main hall of the palace. 

Her father sat in his chair, her mother standing beside him. Both gave her a pleasant but sad smile. (Y/N) took her place on the other side of her father’s chair, trying hard not to think about how there was someone missing from their little family. Her father gave a wave to the servants to open the doors and (Y/N) inhaled a deep breath and put a soft smile on her face. 

It immediately fell as Hahn strut into the room, his chin held high as he approached the Chief. (Y/N) looked at her father, who just shrugged as if to say, “I don’t know, either.” 

“Chief,” Hahn said with a bow. “I wanted to personally give you and your family my condolences for the loss of Yue.” 

(Y/N)’s fingers twitched at the mention of her name. It infuriated her that it was coming from his mouth. 

“Thank you, Hahn,” Her father said. “We appreciate it.” 

“I also know that because of how close Yue and I were, she’d want me to do everything in my power to take care of your family. That’s why I’ve come today.” He bent down on one knee and reached into his pocket, pulling out a thin piece of dark blue silk with a light blue charm attached to it. “I’d like to ask for your youngest daughter’s hand in marriage.” 

(Y/N) could barely comprehend what she was hearing. Her ears rang as the anger inside of her boiled over. Her fists clenched and unclenched as she turned to stare at her father. He, too, remained shocked by the words that had just come from Hahn’s mouth.

Then, (Y/N) turned to Hahn. 

“I will never marry you,” she said, her voice so low and icy cold that it sent a chill through the room. The water in the pots surrounding the walls sloshed back and forth. Hahn rolled his eyes. 

“Come on, (Y/N). Yue would want you to do what’s good for the tribe.” 

“Don’t come here pretending like you care about our tribe. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. And do not act like you could even possibly comprehend what Yue would or wouldn’t have wanted. You didn’t know her!” The pots were rattling against the floor now. 

“Don’t you think you should, like, calm down? You’re kind of making a scene.” 

“You think this is a scene?” (Y/N) inhaled a deep breath. “I’ll give you a scene.” 

As she raised her arms above her head, the water from inside each of the pots shooting upwards in large, swirling columns. She maneuvered her arms so that the water splashed down on Hahn. Then, once he was soaking wet, she lifted it all back up around him and held him in a swirling ball of water. She froze Hahn inside of it, leaving his face free so he could breathe. 

(Y/N) walked right up to him as he panted to catch his breath. He glared at her, his eyes hooded from exhaustion. “You...you’re dishonoring her memory.” 

(Y/N) reared her hand back and punched him square in the nose. Hahn shouted in pain as his blood dripped to the floor. She heard her mother and father gasp from behind her, but she didn’t care. She ran out of the palace as fast as her legs could carry her. 

It was the first time she had step foot outside of the palace in days and the brightness of the sun blinded her. She blinked furiously to help her eyes adjust but she didn’t stop. Her steps led her into the city and in her disorientation she crashed directly into someone, sending them both to the ground. 

“Ow!” Shouted the voice. “...(Y/N)?” 

She rubbed at her eyes and blinked away the dark spots to look at the person she had collided with. Sokka sat just a few feet away from her, looking just as confused as she felt. (Y/N’s) eyes shot wide open with surprise as she scrambled to her feet. She grabbed him by the hand to pull him up. “Sokka! Thank goodness! I need your help!” She started running and Sokka struggled to keep up with her. 

“Woah! What’s going on?” He demanded as (Y/N) took him down alleys and rounded corners.

“I need to hide!” (Y/N) hissed at him as she led him around the back of a coat shop, up its stairs and onto the roof. It had high walls which she forced Sokka to sit against. They both leaned against the cool ice, trying to catch their breath. 

“Is there a reason why you dragged me halfway across the city?” (Y/N) nodded. 

“Hahn came to the palace and proposed to me.” She flopped on the ground and stared up at the blue sky. Sokka blinked at her. 

“He did what?” She nodded. 

“And then I kind of waterbended him and froze him in a block of ice.” 

“Is that blood on your glove?” 

“Then I punched him in the nose.” Sokka laughed in disbelief. 

“You disappear for days and the next thing I know you’re wreaking havoc across the town.” (Y/N) rolled over on her stomach and shook her head. 

“Not the town, just Hahn.” She sat up and grabbed Sokka by the hands. It was definitely hard staring at him, but the adrenaline that still coursed through her veins helped suppress the feelings of sadness that were creeping in from the back of her mind. “I need you to do something for me.” 

“Anything,” He said, a bit too quickly. (Y/N’s) eyebrow quirked up but she decided to let it slide. 

“I need you to take me with you when you guys leave the North Pole.” Sokka let out a large sigh. 

“(Y/N), I don’t know...” 

“Please, Sokka! Hahn’s the first suitor I’ve had but he won’t be the last. And I know for a fact my parents aren’t gonna let...” She paused to swallow down her tears. “What happened affect my life forever. I’m going to be married off to some random guy that I’ll hate.” 

“You can’t hate everyone here.” She looked directly in his eyes and Sokka thought about how different her and Yue’s stares were. Yue’s eyes were soft, like falling snow, while (Y/N’s) were piercing like the ice that surrounded their city. 

“There’s no one here for me anymore. If I stay, I’ll be forced to lead a life I have never wanted to live.” She looked down at her hands. “She could do it, but I can’t.” 

Sokka peered down at the city that continued moving without them. “Okay,” He said as he turned back to her. “I’ll talk with Aang and Katara tonight. I’ll let you know by morning.” 

And maybe it was because she had been so emotional recently, or maybe it was the overwhelming urge to find someone that actually understood her, but (Y/N) wrapped her arms around Sokka very tightly. He was surprised, but he hugged her back eventually. 

(Y/N) returned home late that night. She tried to make it so everyone would be asleep by the time she entered the palace, but when she opened the double doors to walk through the main hall, she saw her father sitting in his chair. Her entire body tightened up as she walked toward him. 

“You’ve been out all day,” Her father said. (Y/N) held her hands together. 

“I was scared to come home,” She said honestly. The Chief leaned back in his seat. 

“I hadn’t realized you had been practicing your waterbending.” (Y/N) avoided his gaze. As defiant as she could be with her father, there were moments like these when she felt the weight of disappointment looming on her shoulders. “You’re quite good.” 

(Y/N’s) head snapped back to look at him. “Th-thank you.” 

“But you shouldn’t use your talents against our own people.” (Y/N) furrowed her brows angrily and huffed through her nose. 

“I don’t consider Hahn to be my people. You know he only proposed to me because he wants to be chief.” Her father sighed. 

“There are many things that I have wanted to change during my time as chief,” He said. “But it is hard when there are so many set in their ways. Eventually, as you age, you start to see the old ways as the only ways.” 

(Y/N) swallowed. “They don’t have to be.” Her father smiled. 

“You and Yue are like the tides. You pushed, while she pulled. I knew you would fight tooth and nail before you let Hahn take the title of chief from your sister.” 

“I don’t understand.” Her father sighed. 

“I’ve known since you were born how unhappy you were here. You are the ocean. You can’t be controlled.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You are what this tribe will need once I am gone.” 

(Y/N) felt her eyes watering. She had always felt that she had never belonged in her own tribe. Everyone was so willing to go along with what was happening. She had been labelled a problem child for challenging the rules, whether that be in her lessons or in her home. To hear that her father had noticed this and recognized them as her strengths made her want to cry. 

“But what if the tribe isn’t what I need?” She asked quietly. Her father stood and walked to her, taking her into his arms. She wrapped his arms around his middle. 

“Only you know what is best for you, my dear.” He kissed the top of her forehead. “Come, the moon is high. We must go to bed.” 

As she walked back to spend another night in Yue’s room, she avoided staring at the moon once more. 

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Tag List!

@aangsupremacy , @treestarrrrrrrr , @beifongsss , @mdgrdians , @aroyaldarknessblr , @musicalkeys , @aimee1602 , @plxstic-rose , @davnwillcome @squeamishdionysus , @clowninfortodoroki @thia-aep , @jinxed-tea @sara5208 @valiantprincessthea @alrightazula , @awesomelupe , @itsivyberry , @thebluelcdy , @samsmultifandomblogs , @loganrwebb , @minifruity , @cuddlykoala101 , @dionnaea , @alive-ahahah-fuck , @pipsqeak1326 , @krxliesdexd , @wastelandbbyg , @milk-n-cheese , @the-firebender-girl , @zukosvice , @justab-eautifulmess , @awkwardnesshabitat , @tomshollandz , @mmmidek-blog , @lavendercrystals , @dailytrashypanda , @bigbuckyenergy , @honey-ruel , @jackbamexpress , @astralsaf , @thebluelcdy , @solarsuki , @sometimeseverythingsucks , @nataliahaslosthershit , @teenbiology , @eridanuswave , @izzieserra , 

#atla #the last airbender #sokka x reader #zuko x reader #aang x reader #aang #katara #sokka #zuko #toph #azula #iroh #suki #momo #appa #writing #fanfiction