#ra world address

[comicaurora]

Have you read/watched Nimona? If so, thoughts?

The kind of emotional gutpunch I can't bear to watch without ample preparation. The first ten minutes are the hard part for me - it's always a wrench for me to get through a "good-hearted character is cruelly framed" plotline, so I really appreciate how quickly they get that out of the way and how Nimona immediately brightens the mood when she shows up.

Overall, truly one of the best examples of how a creator can use their personal grief and rage at injustice as a medium to sculpt a story. The narrative manages to feel deeply authentic to a real emotional journey while still feeling completely contained within the story. I'm not entirely sure how to put this, but sometimes when a writer gets allegorical with their experiences, it can feel like the story gets put on pause so the characters can turn out to the audience and speak in the author's voice about their thoughts on the subject - a pretty clumsy way to communicate a message. Nimona does not do that. Instead, the many real-world parallels to bigotry, propaganda, queerphobia, church corruption, xenophobia, and regressive policies driven by terror of change feel like they arise naturally from the setting within the story rather than being imposed on it from the outside, which is extremely quality writing and characterization. Nimona's story is so clearly informed by ND Stevenson's life and gender journey, but Nimona herself feels like her own person who is messy and grieving and putting up walls and self-destructing and still - still - a fundamentally joyful, gleeful person who absolutely loves being alive when she isn't being brutally beaten down for the crime of existing inconveniently.

Also, it's a comparatively minor thing, but I really like how, like with She-Ra, Nimona creates a world that is passively non-homophobic, with gay relationships front and center and evidently regarded as completely fine and not worth commenting on - which, to me at least, made both stories remarkably relaxing and comfortable to immerse myself in, because I wasn't being randomly jumpscared by reminders of real-world hate - but it still uses allegory to address the real-world roots of homophobia in the form of xenophobia, correlated injustices like classism, and the monster-ification of The Other. So it can clearly state "hating people for how they exist is Always Fucked And Wrong" without having to dunk the queer audience in the icebath of "hey remember how people in the real world think you personally should be dead?" Again, not sure I'm phrasing this super clearly, but it's a balance ND Stevenson consistently strikes with his work, and I really love how he does it.

Animation's gorgeous, voicework is consistently top-shelf, love the aesthetic of Cyberpunk Arthuriana. Wins across the board.

#asks #not aurora #media recs

[dcxdpdabbles]

I don’t know if you’ve done something like this before, but I always see Danny as the bigger brother and Damian as the younger brother. What if it was swapped and Damian was the older brother? I feel like there’s so many ways this could go.

Maybe Damian was a really good big brother and loved Danny, but it was seen as a weakness and Danny was taken away from him by Talia or Ra’s? And when he arrives at Gotham, he’s used to being the big brother not the baby brother, and doesn’t know how to react.

Or maybe Damian was a bad older brother and now that he’s a part of the batfam he can see how older brothers are meant to treat their siblings, and regrets his and Danny’s relationship?

Or maybe, he didn’t even know about Danny and feels he’s been replaced as the Demon’s heir. (Especially with Danny’s powers – I feel like Damian would just think that he’d been replaced by a better model)

I hope this makes sense. Idk I just feel there’s so many possibilities.

Ten years old: Damian

Damian bursts and slams the door of his room, fuming. It makes a nasty crack appear on the door frame, which he knows will get him another scold once Pennyworths spots it.

As if that servant has any right to speak to him, let alone reprimand him. Pennyworth seems to be under the impression that his impish wit is appropriate behavior when addressing the masters of the house.

Why does Father tolerate such behavior? Damian will never know. If it were his grandfather or Mother Pennyworth's entire bloodline, it would have been erased for even thinking about it.

Perhaps it is due to Father's modest way of living.

Damian had been shocked to find that his esteemed father, the one he had spent his entire life proving he was worthy to meet, lived in such a tiny manor. Damian was raised in castles upon private islands with an army of servants. He at first thought it was due to Father wanting to live without many earthly possessions, to appreciate the green of the world, and to live honorably.

He had no idea his Father simply couldn't afford the lifestyle Damian grew up in.

If that wasn't bad enough, Father seemed attached to his idiotic and weak adoptive brood. He acted as if they were blood children! What's worse is that he expected Damian to do the same. Then, when Damian treated them like blood siblings and took them as a real threat to his inheritance and tried to eliminate them, his father grew upset with him!

That is not how you treat your brother. Father had sneered at him once he threw Drake over the railing of the cave. He thought the man would have been proud he had been able to catch the smartest one off guard, had been clever enough to lure him to the edge.

Damian had been sent to his room, forbidden from training and going out on patrol while the rest of the brood had gone out. He had been punished like a child.

He throws himself onto his bed, muffling his outrage screams into his pillow—a terrible habit he only allowed himself to partake in when alone.

"Not how you treat a brother," he scoffs, his lips moving in his native tongue but his voice muffled against his pillowcase. Suddenly, a flash of bright blue eyes that used to stare up at him in trusted awe crosses his mind. His scowl deepens as he squishes the image, just as he had tramped on that foolish trust years ago.

Everyone knew that blood siblings were the only competition that needed to be eliminated. He may have allowed himself the passing fancy of caring for his younger brother back in his youth, but Damian had outgrown such attachments.

He had no time for them.

He was disadvantaged in the Wayne household since now he was the youngest and not the eldest. Damian would not allow himself to be dealt with as Dann- as his younger brother had.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fourteen years old: Damian

Damian took a deep breath, allowing Gotham's crisp, foggy air to rush into his lungs, bringing peace alongside it. He sat with his legs crossed and his arms resting comfortably upon his knees, palms facing the sun, on top of the large boulder his father had installed inside of Damian's meditational garden.

The meditational garden had been his eleventh birthday present.

Back then, Damian had still been getting used to living with the man, and it had taken only a tiny argument where Damian may have let it slip that even the gardens were wrong and he hated living here.

It hadn't meant anything to Damian, just a show of his lack of control over his emotions, but Father had taken it rather seriously. He felt he needed to help Damian find comfort in his new surroundings.

His father had rearranged the entire west garden to reflect the Chinese-inspired gardens where he used to sit with his mother. The first time Damian saw the revealed landscaped project, he felt his breath hitched at how accurate everything was.

He hadn't known tears had fallen from his eyes until Richard had wiped them off for him.

Damian often found himself retreating to his garden- for it was his. Father had allowed him to fence it off, keeping all his other Waynes Siblings out of Damian's space- whenever life got too complicated at the manor.

He would go. He found that all his life lessons on how to handle blood siblings, killing, and basically everything Damian was got him yelled at and regarded as a monster rather than a prodigy.

He went here when it became apparent that he was not making friends with others his age in or out of the Robin suit. When Drake, Todd, and Richard laugh, they reference stories or experiences foreign to Damian.

He came to this garden the day he realized that his mother loved him, but only under certain conditions. He no longer fit those conditions, so she threw him away.

He had been eleven, then twelve, then thirteen, yet the pain of her betrayal had never lessened. The directionlessness that haunted his ever-waking hour threatened to drown him most days, especially as he found it harder and harder to be content with his peers.

Damian may not fit in places, but he did here in his meditational garden. He felt himself pulled to the large, smooth boulder right by the pavilion, for its shape reminded him of long days past.

Damian had survived all the changes in his life because of this boulder. It was tall, smooth, and a good two heads taller than he, even after hitting a growth spurt on his thirteenth birthday.

He remembers hopping on three nearby rocks to reach the top, just as his younger brother used to do in Mother's garden. Had the boy also used the tallest boulder to escape the dread of his uselessness? Did he, too, used to sit in the same pose, breathing slowly and evenly, attempting to tame the unease that rested underneath his skin?

Had he gone back to Mother's garden if Damian had failed in removing him from the line of succession?

The brief reminder of the boy makes Damian stomach roll.

The reason why he chose this boulder for meditation didn't matter. Damian had made his choice all those years ago. He had not regretted his actions back then.

Now, he had to live with what he had done.

He takes another deep breath, trying to suppress the impish laughter of his younger brother, who used to smile at him like he hung the stars and the moon.

When he breathes out, the laughter turns to screams. The echo of mother's dark laughter and Father's weeps.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nineteen years old: Damian

Damian is hard at work within his WE office. He has been recently placed in charge of the Meta-Youth Outreach community, and he wants to show Tim and Father that he can be trusted with such an important role.

Every day, more Metas were popping up in younger generations. Unlike when Damian was a boy, the kids seemed unafraid to show off their powers. Their peers rallied around them loudly, demanding tolerance just as the generations before them demanded for the LGBT and POC communities.

Of course, not all of them, but enough that Damian felt there was real hope for future metas. It wasn't taboo to carry the gene anymore. That was leaps and bounds ahead when he had been running around as Robin.

He now worked under a new title, Crow, and had passed placed Robin in retirement. Now, the title and role sit in the cave, waiting for someone new to take up its call.

Jason joked that two years was far too long, and Father was due to arrive soon with another blue-eyed, dark-haired child ready to take on the world. Damian can hardly wait. He is ready to train and inspire the new Robin.

Maybe it will even be a meta child. Duke and Jarro were tired of being the only ones with powers in the family.

I might even find the next Robin on this list. Damian thinks with a chuckle, reading over the children's names his program would be housing this coming summer. He designed the camp to help teens learn to control their powers in a safe environment but also let them meet others like them and help them build meaningful relationships.

It was mostly kids who just unlocked their meta genes—most facing a traumatic event, but others waking up one day with the power no longer dormant.

He did not want the kids to feel like they were being sent to a lab to be studied. Damian knew something about being angry, confused about the change, and wanting to help them find their way.

He also had some experience with meta children. After all, his younger brother had been a meta. Damian's mother had convinced him that Danyal's powers made him a better heir and, thus, a bigger threat.

He had befriended his brother to lure him to his death, but he had taken time to help him learn of his ice powers, and for a while, he had made Danyal truly happy.

Damian could never make it up to him, could never wash away the blood on his hands, and even though he had told his family long ago, even though Father had wept, his father and brothers had forgiven him.

Damian is grateful, but he has not forgiven himself.

He hadn't been the one to land the killing blow on Danyal; it had been his mother who took the dark honor. Danyal hadn't looked like the perfect blend of his parents but rather a closer copy of his Father and she hated him for it.

Damian knew he played the most important role in her plan.

He wanted to dedicate his life to bettering the lives of children like Danyal, born with powers in a world that was cruel to his kind. He tried to help create a world where children like him could find resources for help and learn to run around and laugh without a care.

Damian signs on the last acceptance letter—one Danny Fenton, whose parents discovered he became a meta only a few months ago. He wants to come to camp to learn how to use his energy blasts, and he takes a deep breath.

Fifty new children for the Danyal Memorial Movement. Hopefully, he can help them all.

14 years old: Danny

Meanwhile, Danny's adoptive parents know he isn't a meta, as Danny had already told them about Phantom, but Maddie wants to surprise her boy with the meta camp anyway. She knows Danny still looks up to his big brother even after all these years.

The older one did help smuggle him out of the League of Assiasngs the day Ra ordered his death. Talia had loved her sons to the bitter end, and she called upon her two old college friends to raise her youngest in her place.

Jack couldn't agree more with her idea, knowing Danny had followed all the news about Damian. His boy hadn't been able to get closer to his dear elder brother, for doing so would have earned all the hard work his birth mother and elder brother did to get him to safety, but now that Ra and his army have perished, he thinks it's time to reunite the two.

In Talia's memory, they will ensure Danny and Damian meet again.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #Dear Elder Brother's Mistakes #I tried the 3 + 1 story structure #Danny is Damian younger brother #Damian growing up after “killing” Danny #Danny thinks Damian was aware of the plan to help him escape #Talia died offscreen and never told them the truth

[gilbirda]

DPxDC cheat sheet

So. I'm not a nitpicking person. I understand that mistakes can be made and typos are a thing and sometimes we are just not the kind of person that can make words work for a variety of reasons (dyslexia, for example).

This is not for that people.

This is for everyone who stumbled into this fandom by mistake and had learned things via osmosis and don't have the energy/time to check the source material for the "correct" thing.

Y'all are valid.

This is a cheat sheet of correct terms and fandom things that are not correct that I've seen in fics.

Disclaimer: while experimenting with canon is fun, this is just to lay down the rules of what's what so it can be the springboard of y'all's beautiful creations.

Given that some people just can't behave online: "If you don't have anything constructive to say, don't say anything." Did I say something wrong? You have resources better than this? You want to make a nitpick? Cool! More info to the mix — But come at me in a hurtful and insulting way and I'm blocking you on the spot.

[Will add more when I think more/have suggestions]

DP SIDE - Post "A Glitch in Time" Canon

Sam is Jewish

Sam is ultra-recyclo-vegetarian aka "doesn't eat anything with a face". Is not a real thing.

It's "Amity Park" not "Amity Ville".

Wes is fanon, same as Kyle. Info on Wes here

It's "Casper High", not "Caspar High".

Mr. Lancer doesn't have a canon name. Common fanon ones are William or Edward.

Ghost obsessions are canon. In AGIT, it's explained that ghosts have a purpose or drive. Danny's purpose is "protection" of both humans and ghosts.

Ghost cores are fanon-ish (there is a mention that Danny's ice powers come from his "core" temperature and is never addressed again, of course) (Episode is "Urban Jungle"). Then in the videogame there are different "types" of ghost powers and something about their cores? Very confusing.

Ghost speak is fanon. However, in AGIT, it's revealed that there's an ghost alphabet, and it's ancient form is based on sanskrit and tamil alphabets. Codex of Ghost alphabet.

Ghost Hunger is canon! In AGIT it's revealed that ghosts feed on emotions and thoughts to stay sapient. If they don't, they become feral with time. Halfas feed from their human side, remaining stable.

Danny is the bridge between the spirit world and living world - canon!

Danny beats the Ghost King Pariah Dark in combat, but faints and that fight is never addressed in the series again. Ghost King!Danny is fanon-ish so go ham with interpreting that. (Episode is "Reign Storm")

Tucker is the reincarnation?? (never stated in canon, but he does look alike) of a pharaoh named "Duul Aman" (Duulaman is also accepted as spelling). Said pharaoh never appears in the series as a ghost, just a picture. Who does appear is his (evil) right hand man, Hotep-Ra, who tries to manipulate Tucker (Episode is "King Tuck"). That Tucker gets cool magic from this event is fanon. But cool.

Sam gets possessed by Undergrowth via a vine straight into her spine (gross). Undergrowth calls her "his daughter" and she tries to lure Danny into "joining her to take over the world". (Episode is "Urban Jungle"). That Sam gets cool plant powers from this event is fanon. But cool.

The Fenton parents are never physically abusive - just comedically neglectful in the way parents are depicted in early 2000s cartoons. Incompetent, misguided, dumb... but they are shown to love their kids. The even accept Danny the 2 canon times they find out about him (Episodes "Reality Trip" and "Phantom Planet").

Jazz is never shown as "mature" in the sense that she had to parent Danny and be the responsible adult. She is comedically the "annoying and meddling older sister" from early 2000s cartoons. She wants to be considered an adult. She couldn't see Youngblood, who is a child ghost that cannot be seen by adults, and Danny had to push her into acting childish to make her see him.

Axiom labs is bought by Vlad's company "Vlad.co" not "DALV.co". DALV.co was the fake company that paid for Maddie and Danny to fly to a conference but stranded them in a forest where Vlad's cabin coincidentally was. (Episode "Maternal Instincts")

Dan is not older Danny. He is not even called "Dan" in canon, just "Dark Danny". He is Danny's ghost half, who killed his human half, ate/merged with Vlad's ghost side and then tried to kill Vlad's human side. Was losing his humanity what made him evil? Was it merging with the Bad Guy(tm) of the series? 🤷‍♀️ Take it as you will. (Episode is "The Ultimate Enemy")

Freakshow is NOT a clown. He is the ringmaster of a goth circus (called Circus Gothica). Danny's headcanoned fear of clowns can be traced back to the "circus" and clown-related imagery surrounding Freakshow's performances, but not directly BY Freakshow. (Episodes "Control Freaks" and "Reality Trip")

DC SIDE

Damian (not Damien or Demian) is never confirmed his religion. Fanon has accepted he is Muslim.

Bruce is from a Jewish family (Martha Wayne was Jewish), but he considers himself an atheist. Same with Kate Kane (Batwoman).

It's "Selina" Kyle, not "Selena" or "Salina".

It's "Talia" Al Ghul, not "Thalia".

It's "Jason", not "Jayson".

Damian is vegetarian, not vegan. It means he doesn't eat meat, but eats animal produces like eggs, milk, etc. He went vegetarian after rescuing Batcow from a slaughterhouse, he didn't arrive at the manor already being vegetarian.

Duke is NOT adopted. Bruce is fostering him temporarily and is more of a mentor to him than a father. Duke considers the others his siblings, though. EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT DUKE: Part 1 | Part 2

Dick was not adopted as a kid, Dick was Bruce's ward. That term is not used anymore, though. Adoption happened later in Dick's adulthood.

It's Gotham, not "Gothem".

Cassandra IS adopted. Legally.

Cassandra's nickname is "Cass", not "Cassie". Cassie is the nickname of another character also named Cassandra (Cassandra Sandsmark, Wondergirl)

"Little Wing" is a canon nickname for Jason from Dick.

"Baby bird" or "Baby bat" are fanon-ish(?). Little Wing, Dickie, Dickie-bird... Canon! Jaylad is not canon, but Jaybird is canon! A GREAT post with receipts about all nicknames. ("Replacement" isn't canon btw).

Stephanie Brown was the 4th Robin. She is not adopted, and was part of the batfamily because she was dating Tim. She is still considered batfamily even if they are not dating anymore.

In Hush, when Jason comes back to Gotham, Jason puts a knife on Tim's throat, but barely leaves a cut. Tim's throat wasn't injured during the Titans Tower attack.

Cass is selectively mute because she wasn't taught any language beyond what she needed to predict people's movements. She doesn't know sign language. She doesn't know how to read and write (more recent comics show her reading a bit). But she could learn, with difficulty. Very in depth analysis of Cass' disability.

Jason's "Pit Madness" is fanon. Canon offers Ra's saying "the Pit alters the mind - could happen for a few days or for years, you never know" or something like that, and that's it. There is reason to believe that the Lazarus Pit can cloud judgement for a while but there is no voice in the back of the head or the Pit taking over.

Tim never expressed special interest in photography or in it as a hobby. Nor he is a coffee addict more than the other bats, who pull all nighters on the reg. He is actually addicted to energy drinks.

There are 2 main Conner/Kon-El/Superboy I portrayed in fics: Young Justice cartoon one (grumpy, same age as Dick, kind of an asshole, has daddy issues, wears black shirt and jeans, has a space motorcycle and a pet wolf) and 90s comics one (leather jacket, piercings, punny guy, same age as Tim, has a #nohomo relationship with Tim, kind of a himbo).

There are a few Ghost superheroes - Greta Hayes (Secret), she was in Tim's run as Young Justice's leader; and Boston Brand (Deadman), who is a member of Justice League Dark (with Constantine and Zatanna and Swamp Thing!). So the DC heroes are familiar with ghosts and ghost powers.

It's "rogues" gallery, not "rouge". Rouge means "red" in french.

Clark is never abusive to Conner, he just doesn't know what to do with him and chooses to ignore the problem; which, yeah, is mean, but not to the levels that fanon has taken it. And this is in the Young Justice cartoons, not across all depictions. In comics, they consider each other family and that's why Conner took a kryptonian name (Kon-El - of house of El, Kal's family)

The whole "No metas in Gotham" is not true. Batman understands that Gotham is very Fucked Up and that if you add metahumans and heroes with powers trying to do good to the mix it could make things worse. Outsiders don't understand Gotham and if they get jokerized or mind controlled, it will get ugly real quick. That's why Signal is cool beans! Duke is a gothamite through and through.

While is interesting that no one in the Batfam knows about Tim's missing spleen, is very probable that Alfred knows - post about this

Constantine is more powerful than it looks like. A post about interesting abilities.

Damian has a metal spine. Yeah I don't know how it works either. They used it as way for Talia to control Damian for a bit :(

Interesting links:

What's fanon in DP

Fan project for Ghost Speak, written and spoken form, and a ghost speak generator - post AGIT canon

Transcripts of all the Danny Phantom episodes

The whole DP series + the complementary comics + A Glitch in Time comic (if you are able to buy the AGIT comic please do 🙇‍♀️)

How to pronounce Ra's Al Ghul

BatPham ship names (updated regularly).

What are the canon ages of the Batfam?

In depth guide to everything Batman in one place (be prepared to go down the rabbit hole)

Fanon vs Canon Batfam edition

Superfam family tree

Interactive map of Gotham (Gotham Knights videogame)

Timeline of events (Batfam adoption order and ages when those events happen)

Map of Gotham (made based on various sources, with annotations (check the reblogs for more info))

The Titans Tower attack: Fanon vs Canon

This person has dedicated a lot of time to research receipts of Comic stuff so check out their masterlist

---

Suggestions are welcome! Please be kind with each other and remember to have fun with this fandom!

#dpxdc cheat sheet #cheat sheet #dp #danny phantom #dc #batman dc #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp crossovers

[talonabraxas]

All the world knows that Nuu was called 'the one without eyes' and it was Ra, the Sun, who addressed him as "Thou oldest god, from whom I have arisen." Thus, out of that which sees not, the golden eye was born. And Ra said:

There were formed many forms, The forms of the forms in the forms of the children. What I ejected was Shu, What I spat out was Tefenet, My father, the abyss, sent them. My eye followed them through the ages of ages.

This eye, called the udjat, possessed a will of its own and became lost in the waters of Nun, in the depths of the abyss of Khnum. Shu, whose name means 'to raise apart heaven and earth' and Tefenet, symbolizing world order, found their father's eye and restored it to him. In this way, according to the most ancient Egyptian texts, order was created out of chaos through the loss of the deity's eye. It then became the sun which Shu and Tefenet separated each day from the waters and restored to the world. In later texts it was said that the first eye was brought back only to find it had been replaced by a second. To appease the angry orb, Ra placed it upon his forehead as the uraeus, a symbol of rulership in heaven and on earth. The second eye of Ra is sometimes identified with Thoth, the lunar clerk of the Sun who helps him organize the world. Thus, Egyptian symbolism, like that of many other cultures, depicted the sun and the moon as the eyes of God.

[stupidsexymecha]

Horus Pegasus

The Pegasus pattern group first appeared following the start of hostilities between Union and the Aunic Ascendancy in Boundary Garden, a distant sector of distal space away from the Galactic Core. The timing of this outbreak may be related to the pattern group’s defining weapon, though skip-drone couriers from Union forces reported no encounters with the PG in Boundary Garden; instead, the Pegasus appeared in the Dawnline Shore, a stretch of colonial Armory space opposite Boundary Garden. The Pegasus appears to address HORUS’s need for a pattern group with extensive kinetic combat capabilities: by marrying the best targeting systems, subroutines, and weapons hardware in the HORUS codebase, collectivists have designed a PG that boasts a tremendously low identify/time-to-kill (ID/TTK) ratio in all theaters where kinetic weaponry is viable. As with many HORUS pattern groups, the Pegasus fields a signature weapon system: the Ushabti, a hostile impulse anti-corporeal weapon that operates with complete ignorance of even the most basic underpinnings of physics and thermodynamics. As such, it qualifies unambiguously as a paracausal weapon. The Ushabti’s precise function remains unknown to Union and Harrison Armory scientists, though radiological and gravitational signatures captured in the aftermath of the weapon’s use point toward a relationship with the Aunic Firmament. Studies are ongoing on Ras Shamra, the Armory’s chief research world, and in satellite campuses across the Dawnline Shore.

#lancer rpg #lancer ttrpg #lancer smash or pass #mecha #tumblr polls

[windsweptinred]

"Notable predecessors of the Raven are Lucien, who was the first Raven, and Aristeas of Marmora, Jessamy, Francois, Jehuda, Vivien, Ming-Ti, Dechtire, and Hatshepsut. After Matthew, Daniel enlists Tethys, a deep-sea creature who had dreamed of the surface world,to serve him as a White Raven."

Wait, wait, wait, back up.. Hatshepsut. THE Hatshepsut! Egyptian female Pharoah BAMF. What the flip did that relationship play like?!

Dream: Hatshepsut tell Lucienne...

Hatshepsut: You may address me as Your Majesty or Ruler of Rulers.

Dream: I am your Master..

Hatshepsut: I've felled lesser men then you, you stroppy little sand kitten!

Dream: You will address me with respect!

Hatshepsut: You'll earn it you scant shadow of an obelisk.

Dream:.... Would the Foremost of Noble Ladies be inclined to deliver a message to Lucienne?

Hatshepsut: With greatest possible respects, from one monarch to another... Go f**K yourself... Sir.

Can we get her out of the Raven retirement home to be Hob's raven? The actual savagery of that tag team would be beyond the realms of brilliant!

Dream: Hob, my guiding light. I know I said you could choose any raven. But must it be that one?

Hob: Are you joking Dream, she's a feminist icon. A wonder of her times. It's truly my privilege and honour!

Hatshepsut: Thank you for your humbling words most kind and wise love of the Dream King.

Dream: Greetings Hatshepsut

Hatshepsut: If it isn't the very essence of Ras rays himself! Descended from on high to illuminate my life once more with his bright and glorious disposition.

Dream: (Looks at Hob) Are you smirking?

Hob: (Blatantly smirking) You wound me love. Ofcourse not.

Hatshepsut: (Identical smirk in Egyptian girl boss raven.)

#dreamling #Run for the hills Dream #I bet she loved him in her own way though #Probably killed a demon in his defense once armed only with talons and pure will power #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #Hatshepsut

[honey-im-hotdog]

🌻

Time to beat a dead horse:

I’m so tired of villains in superhero movies (and outside of those, let’s not forget) having environmental concerns behind their horrific crimes.

A few examples: Carlton Drake from Venom, Ocean Master from Aquaman, and the aliens from Peacemaker. (I think Ra’s Al Ghul from Batman Begins also had somewhat environmental concerns (not 100% but I’m gonna include it), and while I don’t watch Marvel, I believe Thanos also had a similar reasoning??) We see the same thing in Tenet, but as a non-superhero film.

If these movies painted these characters as extreme environmentalists but showed a more realistic approach and characters, then this wouldn’t be an issue, honestly. I think that could be a really powerful and impactful portrayal of climate anxiety and the incorrect concept that “we are doomed and there is nothing we can do and the world is gonna end!”

But they don’t. The villains in these stories try to destroy the world in order to save it but commit crimes in environmentalism’s name. The hero, or good guys, come in, foil the bad guy’s plans, and save the day. Yay! All without addressing the concerns the villain had, all without doing anything of substance. The hero gets to walk away looking cool while the villain cries in the background.

This creates a certain image of environmentalists. These are films seen by kids (maybe except Tenet), and what message are we sending them? If you don’t believe that people are walking away from these movies with the idea that caring for the environment equals batshit crazy people doing horrible things, just read this bizarre and horrible opinion piece from The Washington Post.

On top of being a very very bad no good writing concept, it’s also just incredibly lazy. Why can’t these villains have more nuanced backstories and motivations? A person having tangible and good cause but doing bad things because their judgment is misplaced can be a great writing device for antagonists and villains!! But this is not the way to do that. This is not the way to create a layered bad guy.

This trend majorly hurts the effort that a lot of people around the world are trying to make. This rhetoric is harmful and utterly stupid. I can talk a lot more about this but I’ll stop here.

#screaming #ask game answers #answered #climate change #environment #environmetalists #environmental #tenet #aquaman #venom #peacemaker #batman begins #marvel #endgame #infinity war #ra’s al ghul #thanos #orm marius #ocean master #carlton drake #christopher nolan

[heavens-moonlight]

𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑩𝒆𝒅, 𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔‧₊˚✧ . ˚

𝐒𝐮-𝐇𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝟑𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 | 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥…𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐋𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡. 𝐍𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 ��𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞? ♡

“Students?” A gruff voice calls repeatedly as the first few forms of address remain unanswered. 

Su-Hyeok’s eyes flutter open and he raises his head, fully aware of the neck cramp sure to bother him later on. Another thing he realizes, is that you had fallen asleep leaning on his shoulder, and he had drifted off with his head on yours. He smiles to himself momentarily, seeing you still dead to the world. 

“Kids, this is the last stop.” 

Finally turning his attention to the bus driver, Su-Hyeok looks up sheepishly. “I’m pretty sure we missed our destination.”

The bus driver chuckles as Su-Hyeok scratches his head in confusion. “Where were you and your girlfriend supposed to disembark at?” 

Seeing it unnecessary to deny the nature of your supposed relationship that everyone unanimously agreed on, and especially with the crush he has been harboring for years, Su-Hyeok lets himself have at least this—no matter how untrue—if not your reciprocated feelings.  

“Our history class planned a field trip for an overnight hanok stay, and the informational tour was supposed to begin hours ago. Saying we missed half of it already is probably a sore understatement.” 

“Sky Guesthouse?”

Before Su-Hyeok can confirm, you stir, confused at the darkened sky outside of the windows. The last time you were awake, it was still bright out. “Have we arrived?”

“Uh…you see…about that—"

“We missed it didn’t we?” You turn to your best friend, arms crossed. 

“The guesthouse should only be a few blocks away,” the bus driver intervenes. “Both of you fell asleep for the entirety of the route, so don’t be too hard on your boyfriend here,” he jokes. 

Before you get a chance to refute, Su-Hyeok elbows you playfully. “See? This kind gisanim is vouching for me.” 

You roll your eyes and begin to stand up, thankful you were in the aisle seat, and quickly grab your things. As you bow to the driver in gratitude and head towards the front of the bus, you can hear Su-Hyeok scrambling for his own belongings as he chases after you. “Thank you for putting up with him, Ahjussi!” You throw over your shoulder with a wave. 

“I’ll have you know it’s fun to be around me!” Su-Hyeok defends, mock offended. 

You ignore him trailing behind you and check your phone, just to see it blown up with multiple missed calls and unread messages from your friends, mainly On-Jo. “I need to stop complying to your every whim, Su-Hyeok,” you state in exasperation, hurriedly jumping off the bus. “Why did I agree to go with you on this roundabout trip when Cheong-San’s mom offered to drop us off? You know how much she adores her son’s childhood friends.” 

Su-Hyeok matches your steps, knocking his shoulder into yours repeatedly, until you can’t help but smile. “Oh, I don’t know,” he begins to answer your question. “Maybe you just adore me more.” 

“Do not!” You disagree half-heartedly as Su-Hyeok flashes you a crooked smile, and you have to shut your heart down. Curse good-looking people. 

The tiled roof of the guesthouse slowly come into view, the buildings appearing grander as you draw nearer. Just as you reach the wooden gate, your phone dings with another text. Su-Hyeok peers over your shoulder as you read the text out loud. “So apparently the tour ended long ago, as we expected and everyone already has their assigned rooms. I-Sak, On-Jo, and Nam-Ra are in one room, Cheong-San and Gyeong-Su in another, Wu-Jin, Dae-Su, and Joon-Yeong in the third, Ji-Min and Hyo-Ryung in a smaller room since it’s just the two of them…and Na-Yeon is by herself because she despises everyone.” 

Su-Hyeok laughs. “Sounds about right.”

You smile to yourself at the way On-Jo was giving you a rundown of everything that happened during the few hours you had missed. It was quite easy to sense her fond annoyance when she talked about Cheong-San messing with her all day through the rows of animated emojis she sent you. 

“Do you think there are still empty rooms left for us?” Su-Hyeok questions.

“With a place this huge, I’m sure they’ll find lodging for us one way or another.” 

As the two of you are about to open the door, Ms. Park beats you to it from the other side. “Y/N, Su-Hyeok!” Her eyes widen in surprise. “I wasn’t expecting your presence but I’m so glad you guys finally made it.” Ms. Park looks over the two of you, relief washing over her features after confirming nothing was out of the ordinary. 

“We’re so sorry, seonsaengnim,” you apologize. “You must’ve been worried, especially since you’re only a replacement teacher chaperone. I’d rather you have enjoyed this field trip too instead of looking for missing students.” 

Ms. Park shakes her head, smiling. “No need for all that, Y/N. We planned this just so you kids can relax after exams. Don’t feel guilty for running a little late; it’s supposed to be a fun, enjoyable day after all. I won’t hold it against you.”

“It’s not ‘we’ is it, Ms. Park?” You grin knowingly. “You’re the one who suggested this to the board of teachers, right?” 

“Maybe, maybe not.” She winks at you and you laugh. If only the other teachers genuinely cared for their students like Ms. Park did, perhaps you’d be more inclined to put them in higher regards. 

“We didn’t miss anything too fun, right? Just the tour?” Su-Hyeok asks. 

“Of course, you would care more about the fun and less on the educational purpose, Bare-Su,” Ms. Park teases. 

“That’s why we didn’t missed our stop,” you add fuel to the fire. 

“You’re being a bad influence on one of my top students?” Ms. Park stands akimbo, and you join in, happy to put Su-Hyeok on the spot. 

“My favorite teacher and my best friend are tag-teaming to make fun of me? I’m hurt.” Su-Hyeok puts a hand on his chest dramatically. 

“You deserve it.” You stick your tongue out at him before Ms. Park quickly ushers you both inside.

“It’s much too late for us to stand out here in the cold. We’ll catch a draft at this rate.”

Despite the dark, as you look around, the authentically photogenic architecture captures your attention, even more so under the faint lighting from traditional lanterns hanging from the 14th century style curved roofs.

“Since everyone’s already gone to their respective quarters and we don’t want to disturb the other occupants, you two can share that room over there.” Ms. Park points to one located in the corner. “Even though it gives you a humble living experience of the Joseon Dynasty, I don’t think you will mind sleeping on the timber floors as there’s enough cozy quilts to go around, but I’ll go grab a few more for you just like I did for the others, in case you get cold at night. There should also be simple beds in there as well, no different from all the rooms here, if that makes you more comfortable and easier to sleep in.”

“I’ll help you Ms. Park. We’ve already kept you waiting, it’s the least I can do.” Su-Hyeok offers to go get extra blankets from the hosts, gesturing for you to go ahead and check out the room first.

As you approach the timber frame of the wooden doors, your silhouette casts a shadow on the rice paper lining, and for a split second, you feel as if you were transported back centuries into the reminiscent past. Smoothly, you slide the doors open, and step over the little ledge with your sock-clad feet into the abode. The room is slightly smaller than how it looked from the outside, but the accommodation is adorned with various fragments from the ancient era, and you appreciate the privileged glimpse into a world unknown to you, lost in the passing of time.

Curious, you pull aside the folding screen ink-stained with paintings of orchids, only to realize that Ms. Park was sorely mistaken about all the rooms being the same. You hear the doors sliding open again, and in walks Su-Hyeok, balancing a stack of bedding in his arms so high you could barely see his head behind it. He sets everything down near the now-closed again entrance, only to see you standing there in the middle of the room.

Su-Hyeok tilts his head to the side, looking at you. “What is it? Is the room not what you expected?”

“Well, I’ve got good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first, then.”

“There’s actually only one bed in this room, not two.”

“…And the good news is?” Su-Hyeok trails off.

“I looked earlier and it seems large enough. We can share!”

Su-Hyeok’s eyes widen almost comically. “No, absolutely not.”

Confused and oblivious, your eyebrows scrunch together. “Why on earth not? We’ve had sleepovers so often when we were little, in the same bed every time no less. You didn’t mind then.”

Incredulous, Su-Hyeok flushes furiously. “That was before I—” he halts mid-sentence.

“Before you..?” You lean forward, straining your ears, thinking you had missed his last words.

“Never mind. I’ll make use of the blankets I brought and you can take the bed.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“Su-Hyeok, your back is going to kill you in the morning if you sleep on the floor all night,” you try to convince, feeling guilty he’s offering you the much-more comfortable bed without hesitation.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassures you. 

“Come on, it’s only weird if you make it weird. This is literally just a room with a bed.”

“One bed,” Su-Hyeok emphasizes. “Not to mention, also just one pillow.” 

“I’ll give you the pillow, then.” 

He looks at you pointedly. “What about you?” 

“Give me your arm,” you tease, smiling, trying to hold in your laughter at the scandalized look on his face. 

“Are you crazy? You’re not getting anywhere even remotely close to persuading me to share that bed with you,” he splutters. 

You plop down on the bed and kick your feet back and forth. “Things could be much worse than this situation you know.”

“Debatable.” 

You throw the pillow at him and he catches it before it hits his face, looking much too happy when you scoff. 

“Keep it. You need it more than me.” You fall backwards onto the bed. “Right or left?”

“Right or left?”

“Just choose one.”

Regardless of his confusion, Su-Hyeok ultimately chooses right. “Alright then, I’ll leave that side open if you change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“Whatever you say.” 

⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ.: ⋆*･ﾟ

You blindly reach for your phone, unable to sleep. The bright light hits you, causing you to squint at the time. 1:31 am. You roll over and peer down the side of the bed, seeing Su-Hyeok with his eyes closed, wrapped in blankets all the way up to his neck, more likely than not freezing in his thin white t-shirt. 

“Su-Hyeok,” you whisper, not expecting an answer. 

“Yeah?” He opens one eye to look at you. 

“I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I. I’m cold.”

“Come up here.” 

“…But not that cold.” 

“You’ve layered six blankets on top of you and you’re still shivering.”

He stares at you for a long moment in the dark until finally, he sighs, giving in. Su-Hyeok pads toward the side of the bed you left empty all night, dragging his multiple blankets and the single pillow with him. If you had to be honest, it was an endearing sight; he looked like a giant baby bundled from head to toe in the thick silks. 

Before he even gets on the bed, he takes off one and wraps you up in it, the blanket already warm from body heat. The rest he rolls up and aligns vertically, creating a makeshift mini wall between the two of you. You snort at the absurdity of it, but decide not to say anything against it, lest Su-Hyeok insists on going back to the ground. He eventually crawls into bed, though his legs are too long, feet ending up hanging off the bottom edge. 

“Isn’t this better?” You turn to face him, seeing him already looking at you. In the dark, you can barely make out his eyes, but the proximity can’t take away from how your heart feels under his gaze. 

Su-Hyeok slides a hand under your face and lifts your head slightly to slide the pillow below you. Now both of you were sharing a bed, a blanket, and even a pillow. With your head on half and his on the other, the only way to be comfortable was for the two of you to lay face-to-face, almost touching noses if it weren’t for the centerline of blankets. “Much better.” 

He pushes more of the blanket to your side and when he draws back, your fingers brush accidentally, though he doesn’t move them away, and you don’t have the intention to do so either. “Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he says softly, before closing his eyes. Just by those small gestures alone, you were touched more than that acceptable of a friendly nature. 

“Sleep well, Su-Hyeok.” You lay there in the darkness, your eyes lingering on him for a bit longer until you can’t keep them open anymore. This time around, sleep comes easily. 

⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ.: ⋆*･ﾟ

When harsh morning sunlight streams into the room, you wake up to the feeling of warm air fanning across your face. Squinting against the light before being able to open your eyes entirely, you become aware of just how close you were to Su-Hyeok—so close that you could hear his steady heartbeat, loud enough to count. You have no clue as to how you ended up enveloped completely in his arms, your head tucked tightly into the crook of his neck. The pillow wall from last night is now nonexistent, unknown to you how long it actually served a purpose, yet, you can’t find it in you to move away.

But, as your luck would have it, Su-Hyeok's eyes slowly flutter open, and he begins to stir, immediately looking down. Flustered at the current position, the only thing you could think in the moment is to kick him off the bed.The thud as he hits the floor has you scrambling, worriedly peeking your head over the edge to see that thankfully, he wasn’t hurt; annoyed, but otherwise unharmed.

“Yah! You were worried about my back last night when I decided to take the floor, but instead kicking me onto it is better?” 

“Sorry, sorry! It was on reflex!” You reach down and pull him up back onto the bed, trying not to laugh as he glares at you.

Silence ensues as the two of you are at a loss for words about what happened overnight, avoiding eye contact and leaving space as wide as an ocean in between, the bed growing colder by the minute.

“Did I snore?” Su-Hyeok suddenly asks you.

You shake your head. “Did I say weird things in my sleep?”

[ 3:26 am]

“On-Jo,” you mumble.

“Y/N, this is Su-Hyeok,” he tries to reason with your still-sleeping form. “You’re dreaming, aren’t you?”

“No, we’re having a serious conversation. Of course, you’re On-Jo. I can only tell you important things. Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes, I am,” Su-Hyeok sniggers as you punch his shoulder in your sleep, feeling apologetic toward On-Jo, who was most likely on the receiving end of lot of them in the course of your friendship over the years. He could relate wholeheartedly.

“There’s someone I really like and I keep thinking about them but I don’t know if they think about me too.”

Su-Hyeok holds his breath so tightly in his chest that it could burst, only releasing the tension in his lungs on an exhale when he finally hears your next words.

“On-Jo, I like Su-Hyeok…a lot. Do you think he feels the same?”

“Why wouldn’t he when it’s you?”

“No, I think you only had sweet dreams like I wished for you to.”

┈┈┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈┈┈

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝟏

On-Jo stands next to Su-Hyeok in the breakfast line when a familiar scent wafts across her nose. She sniffs slightly, trying to decipher what it is when it dawns on her that it was emanating from Su-Hyeok. Her eyes widen at the nuance of it.

“Su-Hyeok…don’t tell me…” she places a hand across her mouth in shock. “Did you and Y/N share a bed?!”

“No,” he deadpans, but the blush on his face can’t hide the truth.

“Really, are you sure about that?” On-Jo smirks slightly. “Your shirt…it smells like the perfume I gave Y/N as a birthday gift.”

“There can’t be similar fragrances?”

“I had it personalized.”

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝟐

Su-Hyeok is the first to wake up, but as he turns to get out of bed discreetly, you grab onto his wrist lightly. “Can you stay with me?” Just the way you said that sleepily to him was enough to convince him not to go.

"You should get some more rest. I won't leave. I promise."

He gets back into bed and you immediately huddle close to him, eyes still closed, the expression on your face much more relaxed than before. Su-Hyeok’s heart flutters in his chest as he pulls you closer, not letting go.

Maybe one day he’ll tell you about what you said in your sleep.

Maybe one day he’ll tell you about the kiss he pressed against your forehead and how you smiled afterwards.

Maybe on the day when he confesses.

┈┈┈┈┈𖥸┈┈┈┈┈

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐱’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

#suhyeok x reader #su hyeok x reader #lee suhyeok x reader #lee su hyeok x reader #all of us are dead #aouad #aouad x reader #all of us are dead x reader #lee suhyeok #lee su hyeok #suhyeok fluff #lee suhyeok fluff #lee su hyeok fluff #suhyeok fanfic #lee suhyeok fanfic #lee su hyeok fanfic #lee su hyeok imagine #lee suhyeok imagine #suhyeok imagine #baresu #x reader #reader insert #female reader

[anothertimdrakestan]

Body - Tim Drake x Reader

the one where you realized tim really was the world's greatest detective. or, tim finally tells you how he feels. (play under the influence c brown for full experience)

also note, this is not little teenage tim drake, this is the detective even ras al ghul respects, and the man who knows what he wants. not my usual fanon tim but who cares <3

"Yeah, you fucked this one up." you rolled your eyes as Tim typed away on the his computer.

"First of all, no I didn't, second of all, shut up not like you could've done better." he chided in response. After the two of you had discovered a massive laundering scheme it was your opinion that busting the operation in person, weapons out, was the best plan. Tim had instead, let henchmen get away under the guise of "detective work" his plan to out the scheme to the public and let gotham pd handle the rest.

Only problem was, he was yet to "detective the shit out of them" as he'd promised. Not that you didn't believe in Tim, you two had been working together for a few months as you'd come under the protection of the batfamily. But you'd yet to seek something truly detective-like out of him beyond the few cases you two had worked on.

"I can still head over there, it's an easy fight timbers" you groaned, leaning forward in your chair to rest your head on his shoulder, glancing at the computer as if you could understand it. Tim didn't react, the two of you had been growing close for weeks, living in the same house meant as much.

"Y/n, you know as well as I do that's a waste of time, energy, and risk. I've got this handled please. Just go train or something if you can't bore yourself here." The challenge to leave was an empty one, but you didn't like how easily he brushed you off. You grumbled in response, "some detective" knowing that always got him riled up.

"I really, really don't want to do this right now," he muttered. "Do what, detective" venom dripped from your lips, Tim slightly pushed your head off his shoulder, sitting up in his chair, turning his head to shoot daggers back at you.

"Believe it or not, it's done. I'll take your apologies now." he smirked, pointing to the screen. You rolled your eyes glancing at the post and GPD tracker showing police en-route to the base you'd wanted to bust yourself.

"Still not impressive, where's the real detective work?" you challenged, leaning back in your chair with a dangerous grin, loving the fiery energy the two of you had created.

Tim shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he met your eyes. "Does detective work on you count?" cocking his head, feigning sultry innocence as your facade faltered.

"What does that mean?" you withdrew from the heat, watching in subdued panic as Tim pulled up a file with your name on it. "You think I haven't done anything these last few weeks? You're right. I've done nothing but watch you." his voice was low, almost a whisper. You felt your heart beat in your ears.

"Now, please don't think this is surface level detective work. But, if you want the file on your middle name, parents, social security number, or past addresses that's right here [he opened a file brimming with top secret information] I pulled that together for Bruce months ago. You want something worth noticing?" he paused, a dangerous grin forming as you leaned into his every word.

"A real detective notes body language, he traces delicate patterns his subject doesn't even observe" he purred, clicking on a file that opened hundred of videos and pictures of you and him. "Do you even notice your own affinity for me?" he looked deep into your eyes, his own beaming with excitement as you sat further back in your chair.

Quickly, his hand snapped to your knees, holding them in place you glanced down to his hand all the way back to up his eyes, which bore into yours.

"Did you know humans tend to direct themselves towards those they care about?" he chided. "And here you are, knees pointed at me when you could've sat in any other position, and this isn't an anomaly; detectives, [he slowed down on the word just for you] detectives check for that." withdrawing this hand from your thighs he pulled videos where you obviously turn your entire attention to him, videos where you inch closer to him no matter his position, and videos where your eyes swept his entire body. He had caught dangerous moments you hadn't even consciously thought about.

You felt your face heat up, unable to speak you sat carefully waiting for his next remark. With a confident grin he leaned forward, pushing a fallen piece of hair behind your ear. His face so close you could feel his warm breath on your face as he said, "look at you, hanging on my every word, what happened to my bold, reckless y/n?" he cocked his head to the side as you drew in a breath.

He spoke before you even found the words, "no matter, I wasn't quite done yet. Lets look at some battles, see how your feelings for me manifest in your natural habitat." he pulled up videos where it was clear your attention was focused on him. You'd take hits if it meant glancing his way, rarely did you let him get ahead of you, even if it meant brutally forcing enemies out of the way. "Look at all that fire, burning up for me?" he couldn't help but grin as you felt your heart rate increase.

"I- why did you even do this?" you choked out, thinking of the hours he had to have invested in just watching you. Now it was his turn to falter in confidence, a more gentle smile gracing his lips. "Honestly, I was bored. And wanted to know if you felt the same way." he mumbled, letting his inner nerd shine through. You felt able to breathe again, still in shock from the detail of the information he'd gathered.

"You could've just told me you liked me." you gave Tim a light shove, your own confidence regrowing. "Fair, but this was far more impressive, and entertaining," Tim grinned.

"I cant deny that bird brain" you mumbled before continuing, "so what happens now?" you glanced from the computer back to Tim and his eyes lit up.

"Well, your body language speaks for you," he said matter-of-factly.

"You're blushing," his hand swept over your cheek, you leaned into his touch before he pulled it away.

"Your whole body is facing me," his eyes slowly danced down every curve of your figure, pulling all the way back up to your face, stopping at your lips, finally meeting your eyes.

"Gorgeous, breathtaking eyes meeting mine," he whispered, letting you squirm in the silence he had created.

"And what does that say?" you leaned in, hoping he could grasp the hint.

"It says I should kiss you." he whispered bluntly, before closing the distance between the two of you, locking your lips in his. Smiling into the kiss you pulled away just for an instant, catching your breath before pulling him in for more.

"very good, detective"

#tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x y/n #red robin x reader #red robin x y/n #red robin x you #tim drake x reader imagine #tim drake hot #tim drake imagine #batboys x reader #batfam x reader #batboys #batfam #timothy jackson drake #red robin #drake #dc hot #damian wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #yandere tim drake

[silverwhittlingknife]

Dick resurrecting Bruce via Lazarus Pit and his reasons for doing so left a bad taste in my mouth. Especially when Dick tried to talk Tim out of it. I don't like it. I wish Tim found out about it and... Had a serious discussion with him? Hit him? Left? I dunno.

Oh man, it's hard for me to talk about this one without the Doylist approach. I'm gonna come back to these panels, but I just want to leave them here as a contrast between how Dick is written in his solo vs. how he's written in Batman and Robin:

Dick: Tim... I ... where does it stop, right? What about your mom, then? My mom and dad? Bruce's...? (Nightwing 139)

Dick: This isn't just "loved ones," Alfie. It's Bruce Wayne, the Batman. He saved our lives, he saved the city and the world how many times? (Batman and Robin 9)

I have SUCH complicated feelings about the Morrison Batman and Robin run? I like a lot of the Dick-Damian-Alfred dynamics, and I love the idea of villain!Jason as a major antagonist for DickBats, and I love what I think is the concept of the Lazarus Pit arc, which is that Dick's slowly crumbling under the pressure of being Batman and Jason's taunting is the last straw that finally pushes him to make a terrible mistake.

But I don't like the execution of the Lazarus Pit arc, and the disregard for big chunks of post-Crisis continuity and characterization is sooo frustrating. ("I don't like to plan"/pro-Lazarus-Pit!Dick, cartoonishly-evil!Talia, redhead!Jason, etc.)

And yet. AND YET. So many of the concepts are so good! The execution is so messy, but the concepts are so good! I want to tear it all up and then put it lovingly back together but different sdfdsfs

I had a lot of thoughts, so below the cut:

Why characterizations in B&R are a huge departure from previous continuity (Doylist version)

Why the Lazarus Pit arc COULD BE SO GOOD though (and how we can make it work with Watsonian reasoning)

Finally getting back to your question - how would Tim react? (tl;dr probably with concern and worry?)

Characterization Changes

Just to give you a bit of an idea of how abrupt a departure B&R is from Dick's solo, here are some panels showing some major changes.

1) Dick on Lazarus Pits: Pro or Against?

Here's Dick arguing against using the Lazarus Pit and telling Tim it won't bring back the soul in Nightwing 139:

Here's Dick doubling down on the evilness of the Lazarus Pit when Ra's taunts him with it post-Bruce's death in Nightwing 152:

But here's Dick arguing that the Lazarus Pit will be fine and that he doesn't believe in "prophecies of doom" in Batman and Robin 7 (and indeed, also in B&R, he'll kill and resurrect Kate with zero consequences - convenient!):

2) Talia: protective or cruel?

Here's Talia worrying about Damian's safety and teaming up with the Batfamily to try to save him from Ra's in Resurrection:

But here's Talia smirking after telling Damian they're enemies now and she's going to replace him with a clone in Batman and Robin 12:

3) Dick and planning

Here's Dick-the-planner in Nightwing 142:

Tim: That's a lotta ordnance. Dick: Failing to prepare is preparing to fail.

But here's Dick the impulsive leap-before-you-look guy in Batman and Robin 9:

Dick: ... Okay, I'm sorry - I don't like to plan, I work without a net... I'm not Bruce.

4) Resurrection: the right choice or the wrong choice (part 2)

Here's Dick telling Tim he made the right choice (not trying to resurrect anyone) in Nightwing 139:

But here's Dick insisting that resurrecting Bruce would've been the right choice in Batman and Robin 9:

This is one of those "clearly some people were writing angry letters to the editor" moments sdfdsfds, because it's awkwardly attempting to address Dick's abrupt about-face but the writer still hasn't read the issues in question because

a) Alfred has no way of knowing Dick's previous stance and it's incredibly weird that he would, b) "cautioned against" the Pit is a lot milder than "had a fist-fight with Tim about it," c) Dick's argument has shifted from "the Pit is an eldritch evil that's untrustworthy and probably soulless" to "look, resurrection is a special thing, and not all loved ones are important enough for resurrection," which, uh, okayyyy, and d) Dick is still full-naming "Tim Drake" as if he's a business associate and they had an argument about how to properly file paperwork and now it looks like Tim Drake was right after all, as opposed to Dick's little brother that he had a huge fight with and who subsequently ran away from home insisting that their dad was alive and that he was gonna prove it and now it turns out their dad is alive

Why This Arc Could Be Great Though

Listen, Dick-driven-to-the-Lazarus-Pits is a great concept. I love narrative foils. I love Dick ending up in the exact same place that Tim was in Resurrection, and even though he knows better. I love Dick being that desperate. Here's the setup:

Damian's back gets broken, Alfred takes him to get emergency treatment from Talia but it's not clear if he'll recover,

villain!Jason taunts Dick about not caring about Bruce,

Dick's been slowly crumbling under the pressure of being Batman and between the guilt of Damian being injured and the blow of Jason's accusations (not to mention having to fight villain!Jason and get him arrested), this is the last straw,

he decides to resurrect Bruce even though he knows perfectly well this is a terrible idea because he was the one who talked Tim out of it

he heads off to do this incredibly stupid thing and nobody stops him because normally on the rare occasions Dick's out-of-control Tim shows up and stops him (Hugo Strange, the Joker) but Tim isn't here and actually the strain of that ongoing estrangement is probably also contributing to Dick's isolation and terrible decision-making

the attempted resurrection goes horribly and Dick has to fight a grotesque parody of his tragically-dead father

I love this idea!! I love it when characters make stupid emotional decisions with terrible consequences!! I love the ways Dick and Tim's arcs intersect and parallel each other!!

And I think this could absolutely be in-character for Dick. He knows it's wrong and a bad idea, but he's desperate and pushed to his limits and grasping at straws? Yeah. I can see it.

BUT yeah, not in love with the execution. My conclusion is that more people should write about this arc in fanfic. <3

How Would Tim React?

I think it depends on where you put Tim in the story?

Options that come to mind:

Tim finds out mid-adventure: Tim's semi-teaming-up with Ra's and underground in a League base - and suddenly he stumbles on Dick sneaking in with (apparently) Bruce's dead body! In this case, I think Tim's first reaction is defensiveness about his own behavior and assuming he's being spied on, and it only slowly dawns on him that Dick's up to something. I'd really want to somehow maneuver a physical fight where Tim tries to stop him, so you get a direct reversal of Resurrection, but mmmm I'm a little stuck on how to get there since Tim's working theory is that the body isn't Bruce's body, so I don't see why he'd be opposed to Dick dumping it in? But anyway, they should have a physical fight and a direct parallel where Tim realizes he needs to back off and let Dick decide, and then they hug ;_; I feel like to make this one work you need Tim really invested in stopping Dick, so uhhhhh maybe for some reason Tim's "rescue Bruce from time" plan requires the body of the clone? So Dick CAN'T put it in the Lazarus Pit, or Bruce will be LOST FOREVER?

Tim gets told about it after the fact: So uhhh for example, Ra's finds out about Dick's botched resurrection attempt and tells Tim about it in an attempt to paint Dick as a hypocrite/ entice Tim into using the Lazarus Pit. I feel like Tim would just straight-up not believe him? But let's say that Tim finds out for sure - either Dick admits it to him, or he sees some League recording, or whatever. I'm not really sure how Tim would react? Worried, probably, because it's out-of-character, and I feel like Tim might wonder if it's really him or if he's under magical influence or something? And uhhhh then ideally Tim realizes that no, it was because he was having a really hard time ;_; and then Tim is worried about him and comforting and/or apologetic and probably Dick is probably also apologetic and then they hug <3.

Alternate third terrible possibility: it is Bruce's body, he was dead and Tim was just in denial, Dick resurrects him but there are some kind of eldritch evil consequences, and then Dick has to call Tim back and they have to fight undead!Bruce together. I like this one >:D

#i have various scribbles of a semi-novelization of batman & robin in the thousand ninjas 'verse #because i am actually really attached to a lot of aspects of this goofy comic sdfdsfs #when it's good it's very good - it's just that when it's bad it's horrid #and isn't that all of comics in a nutshell.... #ask tag #dick & tim #dick grayson #tim drake

[sircesimblr]

Stam: Am I? Already bubbling with love for her? Haha, I guess I am. I do. When I look in the mirror, I can see her face right next to mine. I feel I can ask her things, I feel I want to listen to her, even when I've just woken up. She feels familiar. And I also think I may have seen her before, when she was in the bistro with her friend. You know, the singer from the band.

Manon: She has a friend in a band? Like, a troubadour-friend? My goodness. Rachel, dear, dear Rachel, please be careful. Don't mingle with such people until you've got your husband. These kind of things can reflect badly upon your pure self.

Stam: Don't worry. It is a really great band. Having such a friend cannot harm Rachel's virtue, haha, if that's what your concerned about. But please, let's talk about me. Tell Rachel something nice. Why am I the most rounded package she can get? Haha. Not fishing for compliments or anything.

Klaus-Ove: Obviously.

Manon: Where do I begin? First of all, Miss Rachel, this man might be a prince! His fair Northern mother, a hardworking nurse, met a tall and dark stranger in Al Simhara, who never revealed his name. I mean, look at Mr. Hardenes: that must have been a prince!

Stam: Let's not talk about the guy who knocked my mother up. He could just as well have been a troubadour, Miss de La Haye. I've never met him.

Manon: Oh? Yes, you've been raised by your dear mother alone, but surely you must feel, a certain kind of nobility... in your veins...

Stam: Nope.

Manon: But your looks!

Stam: Ah. My looks. I don't really care about that. Neither does Rachel I'm sure. I'm proud I have my mum's eyes and I'm proud I am strong and never ill, so I can pursue my dreams and be a good son to my beloved mother. She's my everything.

Manon: You don't care about it, yet you look in the mirror long enough to imagine your dream wife's face beside your own.

Stam: I practise my charisma skills.

Manon: I'm sure you do. Early in the morning. Right out of bed. I'm sure you practise your athletic skills too, not to build those fine muscles I notice beneath your far too gaudy shirt, but to...

Stam: Do you have any idea how hard the work of a chef is? If you don't keep your body in shape, you'll simply perish preparing meals. You won't make it a single night. Besides, I told you, I don't care about looks. All I aspire my body to be in the future, is soft and chubby, so my kids can use me as a teddybear or a trampoline, or a doormat, for all I care. I want to be the greatest dad in the world. I want to be the dad I never had. I want to be the dad that should have supported my mother every step of the way.

Manon: Goodness me, I knew you wanted a family. But this... So, one really has to read between the lines, with your person. And all these jobs you have, the whole rigmarole, besides being, simply put, gorgeous, all that is not to get ahead of others, nor to behave like a gentleman should, it is...

Stam: I'm just skilling up for the future I want. Making a name while I'm still single. But when I've found my love, and my home becomes a reality, and I hold my first baby in my arms, all falls second to that. And then I will be prepared. I will be so prepared. It will be nothing but happiness.

Manon: Oh, all the heavens above me. An airmonger.

Klaus-Ove and Orbin: Wow, man.

Stam: I thought you'd seen all that in me, Miss, when you said I was the total package for Rachel.

Manon: Oh, sweetheart... And you cared for your mother, when she had what you call a "burn out", when you were young? Twice?

Stam: I did. Why?

Manon: No... nothing. Just another thing Rachel needs to know. Something about an apple and a tree. Never mind. Let's... let's proceed and present the last of you. Mister Klaus-Ove Larsen, please come up here, you carefree looking pup.

Stam: I won't get to address Rachel myself, like Orbin did?

Manon: Well..., you can still try. We surely have another minute, haven't we, gentlemen? There, go ahead, Mr. Hardenes.

Stam: Okay. So here it is, dear Rachel. My dear Rachel. I've only seen you once or twice, yet you are already on my mind, like constantly. You intrigue me, you calm me down, I feel things. Possibilities of a future together. I could be that guy you describe. I could stay in with you, for a lifetime I guess. But I'd also like to take you out, to see people, to go for a delicious dinner, or to soak up art at a gallery. And maybe, someday to take you to the country half of me comes from. All preferably with our little one in a carrier on my back... Am I going too fast? I probably am. I don't want to scare you. I'll probably be quiet and in awe when we finally meet. And I can be funny too. Just contact me. I'll make sure it'll be worth your time.

Manon: Thank you, Mr. Hardenes. And now, sweet, dear Rachel, you know what they say: last may be best! Here is Mr. Klaus-Ove Larsen, the youngest of these gentlemen, someone who might sweep you off your feet in a swirl of magnificent creativity.

(prev)

#a man for rachel #@kimmiessimmies #sims 3 #ts3 #intermezzo AU mini story

[talonabraxas]

All the world knows that Nuu was called 'the one without eyes' and it was Ra, the Sun, who addressed him as "Thou oldest god, from whom I have arisen." Thus, out of that which sees not, the golden eye was born. And Ra said:

There were formed many forms, The forms of the forms in the forms of the children. What I ejected was Shu, What I spat out was Tefenet, My father, the abyss, sent them. My eye followed them through the ages of ages.

Ra (Egyptian Sun God) 𓅃 Talon Abraxas

Ra (Re) was the primary name of the sun god of Ancient Egypt. He was often considered to be the King of the Gods and thus the patron of the pharaoh and one of the central gods of the Egyptian pantheon. He was also described as the creator of everything.

[many-but-one]

Hello there! We had a question for you. Is there a middle ground between RAMCOA and more standard forms of abuse? Not to give too much detail, but in reading at endritualabuse.org, I've learned that my experiences heavily line up with trauma/torture based mind control and simple to moderately complex programming, but there was no RA/OA. It was done sloppy, loose ends stuffed in wherever, you know? Not by someone who knows how to program, just someone who knows how to be cruel, and how to mentally force someone to do what they want.

What I'm asking for is, is there like, a place for me to learn about... Me? A botched polyfrag system loosely resembling a moderately complex programmed one? Or do I just have to dip a toe into each world? I'm trying to figure out what I need to learn to address this complexity appropriately with my therapist, who is great with DID but doesn't know a lot about programming.

Thanks in advance for any advice you can give in leading my further research.

Hello system-splintered!! I hope my answer will be helpful to you, but know that I’m not professional. However! We did JUST finally get to a point in which we were able to successfully tell our therapist we have programs without a program running and offing us, so that’s pretty great🤩 We have had way too many close calls with that, and our higher ups were able to dismantle things just enough to be able to get it out without us being harmed in the process. Our specialist has been in the field with DID systems for a very long time, and she’s worked with a patient in the past with RA, but she has never worked with a system who has programs/MC like us.

So, I don’t know what kind of programs you have and I don’t suggest delving deep into finding them out, because that can cause a lot of issues and disruption in the flow of things. While some disruption can be good, other types of disruption can become fatal for the system, if they have programs for suicide or self harm (commonly called omega programs.)

However, we had to REALLY talk around it, (couldn’t even SAY words like “programming” or “conditioning” or anything along those lines without a silence or scramble program running, it was wild) and our highest level gatekeeper, Aridam, has been laying breadcrumbs in hopes she was collecting them for the last year or so, trying to hint at what is going on without being so overt to trigger the programs. It wasn’t until he met other programmed systems and got resources to learn more about his own situation (because let’s face it, gatekeepers can know everything about their system and how it functions, but that doesn’t mean they know jack shit about it in a clinical sense.) Our abusers didn’t sit down and say “okay, we are going to program you to be a sex slave now, here is step one…” no, it was layers upon layers of manipulation and torture, and they never really used words like program (except to teach the silence parts what words they had to make sure we couldn’t say) or even named the programs (alpha, beta, etc) or anything like that with us. We HAVE those, but we didn’t know that’s what they WERE.

Now, looking online for this information can be really dangerous because there is a lot of information that is 1) deeply antisemitic 2) geared toward practitioners and not toward victims 3) outright calling victims and their therapists crazy for believing programming can even exist.

All of the above can be very harmful for a system just learning and figuring out that they are programmed. A couple of books that we found are sensitive to people who have been through the abuse itself but also don’t mince words are “Becoming Yourself” by Alison Miller (we haven’t finished this one, but we have started it and like it a lot), and “Safe Passage to Healing” by Chrystine Oksana. I would still tread carefully if you are still newer to these things, but you know yourself best, so you can take my warnings with a grain of salt if you wish.

The best thing about “Becoming Yourself” by Alison Miller is that there is a companion book that was written for practitioners trying to work with their patients on deprogramming, called “Healing the Unimaginable” (by Alison Miller) This book is NOT recommended for patients or victims of this abuse, BUT, you can suggest this book to your therapist to help them learn how to treat you. From what we’ve read in Becoming Yourself, Alison Miller is talking about some very complex and high level abuse and torture, stuff even we haven’t been through. HOWEVER, these things can still be applied to some of the “lower” levels of manipulation and abuse, and overall it is a good learning tool to understand how to heal from this awful abuse.

These books are quite expensive, though. We got a copy in pdf form from a system who shared a google drive link with us, and if that system sees this reply they are more than welcome to reblog and share their link if they want to, or DM the asker if system-splintered is okay with it. I don’t want to go sharing links willy nilly if that is not something they are okay with.

I also want to add at the very end here, that just because your system isn’t “high level MK-ULTRA” type of programming (ours isn’t either) that doesn’t mean that your situation is not valid or not relevant and it didn’t massively affect you. Not all programmers are good at what they do. It typically takes massive amounts of organization and power and education to pull this shit off in extreme levels. Our abusers were like that, but we suspect we were a bit of an “earlier attempt” and were mainly used to perfect their methods for later victims. Our earlier life abuse was indicative of them testing the waters, so to speak, but we believe they may have gotten better sources and better connections later on and in later years of our abuse were able to do the really intense and very “well done” types of programming, which is why some of our progs that came later are so “airtight” so to speak. (By comparison to some of our earlier progs) We don’t speak much on what is here for our safety, but we are eventually wanting to be more open about our deprogramming journey, to help others who are in a similar position.

I hope this helped! Take care, and if you or anyone else has further questions, our ask box is open as is our DMs!

-Dorian🌹

#dorian🌹 #ask #system splintered #did osdd #did alters #dissociative identity disorder #did #trauma #manybutone #ramcoa #programming #mc #ramcoa tw #torture tw #programming tw

[smartycvnt]

Banished

Title: Banished

Pairing: Nyssa al Ghul x Reader

Prompt: "Shamed if I do, shamed if I don't."

Word Count: 819

The sight before her shouldn't have come as a surprise to Nyssa. Y/n had been raised in the league practically since birth, and just because the woman had been thrown out years ago, didn't mean that the habits had left her. Nyssa had done everything in her power to live her life like anybody else, but there had been a rather difficult adjusting period, even with help. She couldn't imagine having to go about it all on her own like Y/n.

"Are you here to collect your debts, Ra's?" Y/n asked without turning around to face Nyssa. The title had been everything that Nyssa wanted at one point, but to hear Y/n address her formally made Nyssa feel sick. She had been hard to find, so Nyssa assumed that Y/n was out of the loop. There was no news coming in and out of the mountains, so Y/n probably thought that Nyssa had taken her rightful place as the heir.

"I am not Ra's. There is no demon to head, the league is dead," Nyssa said. Y/n didn't move a muscle, at least not to where Nyssa could see. The woman's face contorted for a moment, sure that Nyssa was ensaring her in a trap. There was no reason for that, however. Y/n was sure that Nyssa knew she still had Y/n's heart.

"Still, you have a debt to collect," Y/n said. She stood in one swift movement, but kept her head low. Nyssa felt conflicted, knowing that Y/n had a point. Y/n had been freed in a rare moment of mercy from Ra's, one that Y/n didn't feel like she had earned because he needed to preserve Nyssa's heart and obedience. Y/n had exiled herself because she knew that her blood should have momentarily stained Ra's blade.

"There are no more debts to be collected. Ra's owes nothing to anybody, nor do they to him. You do not have to stay here anymore, you're free," Nyssa said. It should have been like a weight being lifted off of her shoulders, but Y/n fell to her knees instead. "Go live your life. You have a second chance."

"How can I go out in the world knowing what I have done? I am not free, I never can be. I'm shackled by the shame that I nearly ended the league's bloodline. That will stay with me forever," Y/n said as she looked up at Nyssa. It was the first time in a decade that Nyssa had seen her face. Y/n hadn't even looked this distraught whenever Ra's banished her.

"I didn't want to do this, but as the last Ra's, I order you to go live your life among the people. Act as if you are one of them, and do not cause harm to anyone who does not truly deserve it," Nyssa ordered.

"Does that include myself?" Y/n asked.

"It does. You would bring great shame to me if you were to harm yourself," Nyssa told her.

"So I'm shamed if I do, shamed if I don't." Y/n seemed at a complete loss. Nyssa just wanted to help her, but Y/n didn't believe that she deserved the help. Nyssa was at a loss for what to do, but she refused to give up on Y/n.

"There is no shame in living the life of a normal person. I have been doing it myself for years, and while it won't be easy, I can help you. Y/n, this is a chance for you to be who you were meant to be without my father's judgements. You find your happiness."

"I found my happiness a long time ago, and it is how I ended up here. My happiness got my parents killed and myself exiled, forced to live a life away from the girl who made me happy. My happiness got us here, so how can I trust myself to ever be happy again?"

"Because we can be happy together. There is nobody to come between us anymore," Nyssa promised. Y/n looked up at her hopefully. "I don't just want you to leave this stupid place, but I want you to leave it with me. We can face the world together."

"It isn't so bad up here," Y/n said as she stood up once again. "A bit cold, but it's beautiful in the summer. There's a village down the way a bit, they are kind and leave offerings for me. Eventually, those banished here join them. We could do the same."

"I have a home away from here, and a family. They will care for you like they have cared for me," Nyssa said. Y/n was nervous about leaving, but she would have followed Nyssa to the bottom of the ocean if she was asked to.

#my writing #one shot #arrowverse x reader #arrowverse #arrow #arrow x reader #nyssa al ghul x reader #nyssa al ghul

[baconcolacan]

Lord do I need a sick fic between Tom and Tord, I just need one of them to ACTUALLY take car of the other,, even if they hate eachother or tease eachother they need to calm down

siiigghhhh

Stay AU, technically a sick fic lol but became more domestic Words: 5171

It’s hard to remember sometimes that his husband was always in some amount of physical pain.

Tord had always been good at hiding away what he felt, anything he deemed detrimental or unnecessary was always kept locked away in a little box he built in his head. After years of knowing him, Tom knew that it was all for his own safety, it was the only way his husband had ever learned to protect himself and people he loved. He had to be strong or else he got hurt, even worse if it was his loved ones, and to him that was essentially his fault for not being enough.

It was a lesson he learned too young, and something that Tom worked hard to dismantle when he could, lest his poor love work himself towards an early grave.

Tord’s proclivity of hiding his hurt became less of an issue as they got older. Sure his husband was once a stupid teen who always postured his machismo when they started dating, but the more they spent time together, thus leading to Tord trusting him bit by bit, the more Tord let him see his weaker moments well before it got any worse.

It took them a lot of yelling, fighting, tears, and heartbreak to get to where they were now, and Tom knew just how precious his husband’s trust was, how difficult it was for Tord to admit that he wasn’t as strong as he wanted to be.

So, he could never really fault him when he fell back into old habits. Especially during times when Tord felt genuinely afraid that his failure to live up to his own standards will endanger his family.

They were still working on it, and Tom was patient, he wished Tord would get his head out his arse sometimes, but at least his husband was making an effort.

It started when Tord came back from one of his tours abroad. During a late-night address to his troops, a failed assassination attempt had caused pieces of debris to fall on top of him, courtesy of a decrepit building that had been fixed to blow just as he had been setting up camp with his Company. Thankfully, Tord hadn’t been too scraped up, but there had been significant damage done to his leg- his bad leg- as a sizable chunk of the building had fallen on top of it, when he tried to avoid more perilous positions when the explosion rung out.

Though, to the eyes of the public and the RA, Tord was only mostly unscathed, thoroughly unbothered as he clawed his way out of the debris, still standing tall, as he demanded the heads of the would-be assassins, while a wave Red Sentries began flooding the area like the blood Tord’s enemies wished he had spilled.

Their public executions were swift and without trial, and Tord walked away from it spitting at their corpses.

But only Tom could see the way his husband’s steps had faltered. His eye twitched minutely, a flicker of pain, unseen by anyone else save for the man who loved him, watching closer than the entire world had done.

When Tord came home, back to their cabin in the woods- hidden away from prying eyes and loose tongues, their sequestered, treasured, moment in time, separated from all else- he had leant heavily against the door frame, with sheer misery on his face. His field operations uniform was scuffed, torn, and covered in dust. His skin had a deathly pallor to it, covered in the same grey ash his uniform had been in. His teeth were gritted, grinding so hard against each other Tom swore he could hear them creaking.

He wasted no time rushing to his husband’s side, his crutches held tight in his grip.

When Tord looked up at him, Tom could feel his heart breaking. Tord’s eye had a glassy sheen to it, unshed tears barely held back from escaping. His breaths sounded labored, but he tried his best to keep them quiet after he had seen the panicked look on Tom’s face.

Even still, his voice had betrayed him when he reached out to his husband with a shaking hand. “My love,” he said with a tremble as his face twisted into agony.

Tom nearly missed catching him when Tord collapsed forward, his right leg now unable to hold up his weight. He had to let go of the crutches in favor of supporting his husband himself. Small pained gasps escaped Tord, his hands curling tightly inwards as he held on to Tom’s shoulders, all his weight transferred over to his husband, but Tom didn’t mind it one bit as he gently helped him walk over to the couch.

“Fuck…it hurts….” Tord had gasped as he curled himself closer to Tom’s side. Seemingly trying to hide from the pain he was feeling.

“Shh shh, elskling, you’ll be alright. I already called Bing. I’m right here, okay?”

“It hurts so bad.”

Tom swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, his chest hurt at hearing Tord’s voice become so small, as he gently lowered him down into the couch, only hesitating when his husband let out a low whine and hard hiss as he stretched out his leg. Wordlessly, he offered him some painkillers and a glass of water, which Tord gratefully took.

“I know it hurts, love, but you’ll be okay, I promise.” He sat down next to his husband in an instant, holding him close as Tord buried his face in the juncture between his shoulder and his neck. Tom let out a shuddering breath as he felt a wet patch start to form on his shirt as Tord heaved in sobs. He offered his husband his hand to hold, which Tord had taken to squeezing tight every time the pain flared up too much for him to handle.

Tom could do nothing but offer him comfort as they waited for Bing.

Bing wasn’t exactly RA’s top medic, a title of which was reserved for Yanov, but he knew enough about biology to at least be decent enough to perform minor surgeries if needed. Larry of course was also quite adept at first aid, seeing as he had to be there to patch Bing up if ever he had a violent mishap at the labs. Plus, with him there, there was a less likely chance for Bing to muck up any medical procedures if his attention started to stray.

According to Bing, Tord had actually been pretty lucky. All in all, that chunk of building should have broken his leg beyond repair, but due to the presence of his modified leg brace- which Bing had said with a haughty amount of pride before Larry slapped him upside the head- most of the shock had been absorbed thus minimizing the damage that might have occurred.

Though, Larry suggested that Tord be put on bed rest for a while, or at least to not put as much strain on his right leg for the time being.

Tom promised that he’d keep Tord off his leg, even if his husband kept quiet during the whole exchange, only intermittently squeezing Tom’s hand when a spike of pain raced up his leg.

Bing and Larry bid them a good night.

--

Tom was prepared to get into petty squabbles with his husband for the next few days, as Tord vehemently refused to take any sick days even when he was feeling under the weather, more so if it involved his chronic pain. Usually, Tom would acquiesce somewhat as long as Tord wore his brace and took short breaks, or if Tord’s only intention was to sit and stay in his home office doing logistic work, but now that he had gotten into an accident, Tom knew he wasn’t going to compromise with his husband at all during his recovery time.

No matter what he did or said.

To his surprise though, the next morning after Bing and Larry’s visit, Tord was actually very cooperative.

…. Suspiciously cooperative…..

Tom had been hyping himself up when he first woke up that morning, ready to get into a row with his husband about needing to use his crutches the whole day at home instead of his leg brace, which Tord never really did even at home, preferring to only use the crutches at night when he had a day off to spend in the cabin.

It’s always been a petty little squabble of theirs, and he was sure Tord was never going to let it go.

Once he felt Tord shift beside him, along with the hand that snaked around his waist to pull him closer to the other man, he did all his mental preparations and arguments in a span of a second as Tord kissed him and greeted him with a sleepy: “Good morning, kjaere…”

“Morning, love.”

Tom greeted back as he fixed his position, so that he could hug Tord better while the other was still adjusting to the waking world. He ducked his head under Tord’s chin, breathing in his scent of pine trees and earth, a big improvement from the old smokey scent he had in his youth, after they both decided to cut down on their vices as they grew older (more so when AK came into their lives.)

He listened to his husband’s breathing for a moment, and the soft rumbling that came from his throat as he slowly woke up. He idly traced a scar on Tord’s back while the other moved his thumb up and down his hip as he yawned.

“Hey, remember what Larry said yesterday?” Tom said into the skin of Tord’s neck.

“Mmhm?”

“No leg brace today, or even the whole week, got that?”

“….”

At Tord’s silence, Tom readied himself for any of his complaints, but was surprised when Tord only sighed above him before he felt his lips press against the crown of his head in a whisper of a kiss.

“.....okay…..help me with my arm before we get up?”

Tom’s brows furrowed in slight confusion and worry, it wasn’t like his husband to kill the wind in his own sails like that, especially over something he didn’t like to do, but….he supposed he should see this as a good thing, at least it meant Tord was finally following a doctor’s (not really) order for once.

Still….he can’t help but worry, especially if this meant that Tord was in a lot more pain than he realized.

“Yeah…of course love, just give us a second alright?” Tom said as he moved back to lift his head up, he can’t really see anything at the moment without his home visor, but he knew for sure where Tord’s head should be, and anyway, his husband had brought his hand up to the side of his head to guide him, and he knew Tord was looking down at him at the moment.

Though, he really wished he could see the look on his husband’s face right now.

He heard Tord let out a small chuckle. “Don’t want to wake up yet?”

He offered him a smile he hoped was reassuring.

“I just…want to hold you right now, is that okay?”

He felt a thumb sweep across his cheek. Then lips over his own in a small sweet kiss.

“Always, my love.”

They spent half an hour in each other’s arms, with Tom just relishing the fact that, at least, even with the injuries, his husband could still come back home to him.

Once he was fully awake and had his home visor on- a thin little thing that looked more like one frame white glasses, something Tord teased him for, saying he looked like a tired old professor when he wore them- he happily assembled Tord’s robotic prosthetic while his husband hobbled off to the bathroom to go do his business.

Not without Tom fussing over him a little, even if he knew Tord could manage with just one arm and one crutch for now.

“You’re being silly, Thomas.”

“Shut up before I kick out the crutch from your hand, cripple.”

“Mean.”

“You married me.”

Once Tord came back around to the bed- which he fully collapsed into face first with a groan- Tom proceeded to help him attach his arm, doing most of the work while Tord just laid there with a dopey smile on his face.

“Remember when you dressed up for Halloween? That slutty nurs- OW!”

“Hmm? What was that, darling?”

Tom asked innocently when he connected his nerve endings with the arm’s wires. It was pretty quick, quicker than when Tord would do it on his own, so the pain was nothing more than a little shocking pinch, despite his husband whining and bitching about it on the bed.

Tom liked to bully him, but he didn’t like causing his husband any more unnecessary pain right now.

Besides, one little kiss, and his stupid Norwegian was done moaning about his horrible marriage to a horrible callous man, and back to asking him for just one more kiss Thomas! With the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster.

He’s so lucky he’s a patient right now, because almost suffocating due to a clingy Norwegian was not the way Tom wanted to die.

Tord happily walked out of their bedroom, both of his crutches supporting him, with a happy hum while Tom tried to catch his breath on the bed, before angrily yelling “Tord Larsin!” after his husband, who only laughed as he made his way downstairs.

For a whole week, it was actually quite nice in the cabin. Tord let himself be treated without much of a fuss, not even fighting with Tom about the use of his crutches while he was on leave. In fact, he had actually gotten quite good at moving around with them, even playing ‘crutch tag’ with AK that had him zipping around the cabin after their squealing little boy.

Tom had laughed when he would hear “Im gonna get ya!” followed by violent, fast, tapping and AK’s excited little shrieks and hurried footsteps.

“Pappa’s too good at this game!” AK had complained to him one day while they were having tea by the patio. Tord’s leg had acted up somewhat that day, and so Tom relegated him to the couch with a cold compress, painkillers, his favorite snacks, and a re-run of Insane Zombie Pirates from Hell. Then he corralled their little monster away from his ailing father, because as much as Tord adored AK, he needed as much rest as he could get. Though that didn't stop him from shedding fake tears as his "cruel" husband took his little boy away from him. AK happily played along with sad little yowls as Tom dragged him out to the patio.

“Oh? How’s that, dove?”

“His stick feets are longer than my feets.” AK huffed with a pout that had Tom cooing at him with a pinch of his cheeks. His son whined and slapped at his hand before continuing, “He can tag me while I’m far! No fair!”

“Well, why not find a stick of your own so you can tag him back then run away again??”

AK’s face got a shine of realization as he took his father’s words in, before smiling up at him and hugging him tight, nearly causing Tom to spill his tea.

“Thank you, papa!”

“Ough! Ah, no problem dove.”

A day later, Tord had come into their bedroom- while Tom was enjoying a particularly good playlist on his visor- with a scowl and an accusatory glare.

“You betray me.”

“I hold no allegiances to you.”

“So you say,” He said as he put his crutches aside and crawled up to the bed, Tom could barely hold back his smile as Tord came closer, “But you forget, Thomas, that the ring you wear his proof enough of your promise to be devoted to me.”  He made a grab for his ankles, which Tom let out a high squeak at before kicking off his hands, only for Tord to jump forward and hold them tight. “And you betray me for a child with a stick!” He pulled him down towards him, “Come here traitor!”

“Waugh! Noooo!” Tom squealed as he was unceremoniously dragged down from his position on the bed and towards his grinning husband. He thrashed and squirmed in his hold but was unable to get too far before Tord was looming over him, he let out a warbled squeak mixed with a laugh as Tord dug two fingers at his sides in a bid to tickle him.

Tom made to scramble out from under Tord but was immediately pulled back down and dragged on his stomach before he could get off the bed.

“GOTCHA!”

Tord fell on top of him, causing him to wheeze as the air was knocked from his lungs. He shrieked when he felt Tord’s lips on the back of his neck as his arms wrapped around him in a secure hold.

“TO-HAHAHAHAHA! TO-HORD! T-HAHAHA- STO- TORD!!”

Tom squirmed and wriggled in his husband’s hold as Tord assaulted his neck, goddamn him! He knew how ticklish his neck was!

“Pay for your crimes miscreant!” Tord said as one of his hands strayed downwards to tase Tom at his side, causing his husband to buck and shriek underneath him as he let out yowling laughter. “I lost to a child! Me! Red Leader!” He grinned at his husband as he managed to turn around in his arms, making another attempt to wiggle free, only for Tord to descend upon him again, pressing playful bites and fluttering kisses along his throat that made Tom squirm and yell.

“Suffer the consequences, traitor!”

“OH MY GO-HAHAHAHA STOOOOP!! TOOOOOORD!!”

Somehow, Tom was able to free his hands from Tord’s grasp. He pressed them up against his husband’s mouth and pushed him away from his neck, only for Tord to lick at them.

“Oh AUGH! TORD!”

Tom shoved him by the shoulder, which caused his husband to laugh, but the sudden jostle made Tord accidentally put too much weight on his right leg and he winced with a hiss.

Tom stilled below him, looking up at him in concern.

“…Okay, I think that’s enough rough housing for tonight.”

Tord squinted down at him, he smiled, though it was obvious he was fighting back from the pain he was feeling. “Aw? I don’t really classify that as ‘rough housing’ Thomas, if you know what I’m saying...” He stuck his tongue out with a grin.

“Perv.” Tom said with a roll of his eyes and a smile as he moved to sit up, only for Tord to collapse back down on top of him, causing him to huff out a breath as the bed jumped below them. “Tord.”

“Can’t move. Ouchie.” Came his husband’s muffled reply from where he had his head face down on the bed just above Tom’s shoulder.

Tom let out a sigh and carded his fingers through Tord’s hair, earning him an appreciative hum and a tightened embrace. “So am I just going to be stuck here?”

“Mhm…”

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?”

“Yuh…..”

“Arsehole.”

“You married me.”

Tom huffed out a laugh at that.

“…Guess you don’t want that massage then….”

Tord paused, his whole body going still.

Tom smiled up at the ceiling.

Tord lifted his head to look his husband in the eye.

“….Massage?”

Tom lifted his eyebrows at him.

“In the bath, I had it prepared.”

Tord’s eye bulged out.

“..In the…huh?”

“It’s all romantic and shit,” Tom continued nonchalantly, tracing circles on his husband’s cheek. “I put in petals and candles and all that crap, even got Matt to let me borrow his essential oils.” He shrugged and wrapped his arms around his husband’s neck, tugging him back down. “But ooooh well, you’re tired, and so so sleepy, what kind of husband would I be to deny you your rest? Certainly not a loving one.”

“Buh- But- huh wait- bath??? Massage?? Bath massage???” Tord refused to be brought down as he looked at his husband with a wide eye.

Tom gave him a flat look.

Tord pouted, wobbling his lower lip. “Thomas…” He whined.

Tom stayed silent.

Tord continued pouting.

“….my leg hurts…” He tried.

Tom snorted, unable to keep a straight face, as he moved out from under Tord. “Fiiine….”

“Hooray for emotional manipulation!!” Tord cheered as Tom let out a guffaw, even surprising him as he moved over to his side to scoop him up in his arms, the action caused Tord to squeak and latch on to his husband’s neck as he was carried towards their bathroom, though once the surprise wore off he laughed, giddy, as he curled himself towards his husband. “I love you, Thomas.” He singsonged.

Tom scoffed and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah, whatever sap.” Though his face did tinge a bit pink as he said those words.

Tord chuckled and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck just as he closed the door. Which of course, caused Tom to yelp and nearly drop him.

“Tord!”

--

It was inevitable that there would at least be one bad day.

Tom had woken up as usual, a little bit groggy but slowly coming back to the conscious world. He sighed as he stretched out, taking all the stiffness out from his joints with a satisfied pop. He breathed in deep as he sat up from the bed, yawning slowly as he blinked unseeing eyes.

He paused when he heard ragged breathing at his side.

Tom put a hand out in concern, careful not to hit anything.

“Tord? Elskling is that you? Are you awake?”

A small whimper and a rushed exhale replied to his question, just before he felt his husband’s hand weakly grasp at his own. Tom, hurriedly moved closer to his side, both of his hands coming up to hold Tord’s. His frown deepened as he felt how clammy his husband’s skin felt, paired with his shallow breaths and small whimpers.

“H…hurts….too much…” Came Tord’s strained voice, audibly shaking as he let out a pained breath.

Panicked, Tom made a series of clicking and chirruping sounds before finding his voice. “Ho-Hold on. Let me find the painkillers.” He let go of his husband’s hand, quickly turning around to where he knew his nightstand was, his hands grasped around the surface, frustration building as he couldn’t feel where his home visor was.

Tord whimpered behind him.

Tom gritted his teeth.

“AK! Arthur! Arthur!!” His voice took on an otherworldly sounding tremor, accompanied by small clicks and rumbles. He hated bringing their son into this, but he didn’t know what else to do at the moment.

It wasn’t long before tiny footsteps came running towards their room.

Their bedroom door opened and shut fast as Tom registered AK’s heat signature approaching him.

“Papa?? What’s wrong?? Why..What’s wrong with daddy?”

Tom reached out to his boy, AK stepped into his hands and let his father hold the sides of his face. Tom felt his son’s hands wrap around his wrists. “Honey, listen to me okay? Your daddy…he’s hurting a little right now.” He reached up and smoothed away the tufts of hair he could feel on his son’s face. Part of him was relieved he was blind, so he didn’t have to see the look in AK’s eyes, but part of him wished he didn’t have to call their son for help. ���I need you to help me find his medicine, okay? They’re in my nightstand, red and white, look in the first drawer, okay guppy?”

“Okay papa!”

He felt his son slip out of his hold accompanied by the dragging rumble of a drawer being thrown open, he heard the crinkle and clatter of AK moving things around the drawer before he gasped out an: “AH!” As something was pressed into Tom’s hands.

“I found it papa! Red and white! Like you said!”

Tom smiled and leaned forward, AK knew what he was trying to do and moved closer to let his father kiss his cheek. “Thank you dove.” Tom said with a purr, earning a happy little chitter from his son.

He turned back to where his husband was, worried about how fast Tord’s shallow breathing had gotten, “Tord? Love, take the painkillers, I’ll go and get my work visor to check on your vitals just in case, okay?”

He heard the sound of AK’s footsteps running off to the other side of the room, probably to go fetch Tom’s work visor after hearing that it was needed. He sent a silent thank you his son’s way while he felt Tord make a shaking grab for the painkillers in his hand.

After a minute, Tord’s breathing began to even out.

AK came back with his work visor not long after, which Tom thanked him for before trying to send him back to his room.

AK stood still.

“Daddy will be okay, right?”

Tom looked down at his son, the visuals of his work visor gradually coming into focus. He bit back a frown at the wide eyed, terrified, look on AK’s face.

His visor registered his son’s heartbeat, it was faster than normal.

Tom blinked the information away.

“Hey,”

They both turned at the sound of Tord’s voice. The Norwegian was partly sitting up, though more so leaning against the pillows behind him, a sheen of sweat covered his brow, and his eye was drooping from exhaustion, but he smiled at his son nevertheless, despite the way his chest rose and fell with a bit of heavy breathing. Tom's visor gave him a read out of his vitals, while there was some inflammation in his leg, Tord was overall fine (enough). Still....seeing his husband in so much pain, yet hiding it for the sake of their son, made his heart clench painfully in his chest.

“I’m fine skatten min, I promise.” Tord reached out a hand as AK circled the bed, the child nearly jumped towards him but stopped himself before slowly sinking into Tord’s side, hugging him tight. Tord wrapped his arm around his son, pressing a long kiss to his forehead as he rubbed his hand up and down his back. “I’m just a little, ah, sick, okay? It’s not as bad as it looks!” At AK’s sniffle, Tord frowned and lifted his head up by his chin. “Oy, whats those tears for? Don’t cry my little sailor!” Tord pinched his nose with a grin, causing AK to giggle and wipe at his eyes. “This little pain won’t stop your pappa! I’m the Red Leader remember?? As if this will drag me down!”

Tord patted the space in front of him, letting AK crawl up the bed and sit on his good leg, carefully avoiding his right as he did. Tord smiled down at his son as he wrapped an arm around him in half of a hug- or a full hug in terms of what he was capable of at the moment. “Come now my little puffin! Don’t you remember how strong your pappa is? Did you forget huh? Did you??” He poked at AK’s side, causing his son to squeal and giggle as he squirmed in his hold.

“Daddyyyyy! Stop! I didn’t forget!!” AK said in between giggles.

“Oooh that’s right, you better not forget! Or I will eat your nose!”

“Waaa!” AK covered his nose with both of his hands, “Daddy not my noooose!!”

Tom laughed as he moved closer to his family, he wrapped his arms around his husband who leaned into his hold, even as he continued to terrorize their little boy as he made biting motions at him, a few of which AK would respond to with nipping of his own. Sometimes, when AK would kick out his legs or move his arm too far, Tom would pretend to lunge at them with playful little bites and low chittering sounds.

When AK took notice, he shrieked and curled up tight like a little ball in Tord’s arm.

“Daaaaaadddyyy!! Papaaaaaa!!” He whined, his voice taking a more higher pitch akin to a pup just learning how to howl.

“What do you say, kjaere?” Tord grinned at his husband who smiled back at him. “Shall we eat this little bird?”

“Anything for you, dear husband.” Tom said as he turned to look at his son, “After all, I’m nothing if not devoted.”

“Nooooooooo!!” AK yelled as he giggled and squirmed.

The two parents descended upon the hapless little boy, attacking at all sides. AK found himself partly shifted somewhere along the line, while his papa scurried around the room trying to catch him. His daddy on the other hand, stayed stationary on the bed, watching them run around with glee, though he was also a threat, as his papa would corral him towards his daddy when he wasn’t paying attention, and his daddy was good at catching him. AK would be subjected to tickles until he was able to break free, and the hunt was on yet again.

A little while later, the family of three were back together on the bed, with AK nestled happily between them, in the embrace of both his fathers. It didn’t take him long to start dozing off to sleep again, surrounded by love and safety as he was.

Tom looked up at his husband from over AK’s head, he smiled softly as he watched Tord smooth out their son’s hair, the look in his eyes so soft, fond, so full of love. A definite improvement to his tired, pained look when they had first woken up.

He couldn’t help but get lost in the grey of his eye, a colour that now reminded him of warm nights inside by a fire, a hand to hold during tougher times, a home that was all their own, a secret kept hidden from a world too cruel.

His love.

“Are you going to keep staring at me like a creep, Thomas?”

Tord’s smile never faltered from his face, but he kept his voice low as he continued to comb through their son’s hair. His eye moved up to Tom’s face, still soft and warm as when he was looking at AK.

“Do I need an excuse to look at my husband?”

Tom whispered back as he tilted his head with a smile mirroring Tord’s own. Though his husband’s smile widened a bit as he chuckled.

“Careful Thomas, people will think you’re in love with me.”

Tom felt his chest warm at Tord’s teasing tone, he wasn’t entirely sure why that was, but it wasn’t a bad feeling. He carefully moved over his son, Tord quickly caught on to his intent and raised himself up just slightly, as he tilted his head to give his husband a long, sweet, kiss. One he hoped conveyed that funny little warm feeling he had in his chest at the moment.

He hoped Tord liked that feeling too.

When he pulled back, settling down carefully beside their son once more, Tom smiled as he murmured:

“Let them think…”

For most of the day, the family spent their time in bed. AK brought his lego set into the room, while Tom decided that today might be a good day to indulge in old hobbies, and so brought his old bass in to sing his family a few songs he knew how to play.

A good day, overall, even if it did start out a little bad.

At least Tord was smiling.

That’s all he wanted really.

#tomtord #tordtom #eddsworld #eddsworld fanfiction #ew Stay AU #ew Stay AU writings #Im eepy now good night have some food #asks #anonymous

[luna-rainbow]

CATWS and the theme of "trust"

I got about halfway through rewatching CATWS again and I keep seeing all the lines they've buried as foreshadowing for Zola's reveal and I just can't see it all as unintentional (even if they've tried now for 8 years to wind it all back).

One of Steve's major internal conflicts in CATWS is "trust". Right at the start, he makes a few humorous jabs at Sam, but as soon as he feels Sam starts to pry, Steve backs away.

Sam: Must have freaked you out, coming home after the whole defrosting thing. Steve: It takes some getting used to. It's good to see you, Sam.

It's not just the line that shuts the conversation down, Steve's entire body language closes off and he turns away from Sam. Sam, being the amazing guy he is, manages to draw Steve back by sharing his own personal experience of war. Steve then opens up because he recognises that Sam approached him as a fellow traumatised human being, and not for "Captain America", and not for any ulterior motive.

Natasha then whisks Steve away, and we enter the world of subterfuge that is SHIELD. Immediately during the Lemurian Star sequence we establish that Steve dislikes ulterior motives, double-crossing and people withholding information from him.

He and Fury then argue over Project Insight. There are other important themes there about freedom of choice ("this isn't freedom, this is fear"), innocence until proven guilty ("I thought punishment usually came after the crime"), and American imperialism ("holding a gun to everyone on Earth and calling it protection") which I won't go into here. They finish their conversation this way:

Fury: SHIELD takes the world as it is, not as we like it to be. And it's getting damn near past time for you to get with that program, Cap. Steve: Don't hold your breath.

What happens next is an important story moment, both emotionally for Steve and thematically for the overarching narrative. Steve makes three visits - I've said before how these represent his past (the mural of Bucky, the things he's lost), his present (Peggy, wizened and weary, secluded from society), and his future (Sam, youthful and energetic, moving past his trauma). But there's also something else key to these moments, and it is trust.

These are the three people Steve thinks he can trust in his life at that moment in time. He knows he can't trust Nat and Fury (they even told him this). He goes first to find Bucky, because that's his childhood friend and brother-in-arms, but of course Bucky can't give him any answers. He then goes to find Peggy, and it is this very brief conversation with Peggy that has all the foreshadowing for the big reveal.

Peggy: You saved the world, we rather mucked it up. Steve: You didn't. (*CEvans gave emphasis on the "you"). Knowing you helped found SHIELD is half the reason I stay. Peggy: The world has changed and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best we can do is to start over.

I'm just going to address the last line first. That line is often given as a mark of Peggy's words giving Steve's character direction. But on my most recent rewatch, I noticed this line.

Pierce: Despite all the diplomacy and the handshaking and the rhetoric, to build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down.

Those lines, repeated only two assassination attempts 20 minutes apart, draw a disturbing parallel between Pierce/SHIELD-ra's intention with Project Insight, and Peggy's advice to Steve about what should happen next. Was it accidental? Or in the hands of a good writer, foreshadowing?

Going back to the first part of the exchange. Steve's emphasis on him staying in SHIELD because Peggy had found it...

Is it any accident that upon walking into the abandoned SHIELD facility, he first lays eyes on Peggy's picture - and is tensely silent when Nat asks him who the girl is - then less than 10 paces from her picture is the entrance to the hidden lift?

This was supposed to be a moment of betrayal. Steve is not stupid. Neither, supposedly, is Peggy.

Immediately upon seeing Bucky, Steve mused that "whatever (Zola) did helped him survive the fall". He already put two and two together.

The significance of what Zola said about Hydra growing inside SHIELD, and Bucky fighting for SHIELDra would not have been lost on Steve. Even without Bucky explaining the conditions of his imprisonment, it was easy enough to infer that Zola had recaptured Bucky and used him for Hydra's ends.

Now, going back to the theme of trust. Consistently, throughout this movie, Steve reacts badly when he finds out people have lied or withheld information from him. He's sarcastic when he finds out the Lemurian Star "isn't off course, it's trespassing". He is furious upon finding out Nat has been given a separate assignment that he didn't know about. He confronts Fury about it, and doesn't stop snarking at Fury about his "compartmentalisation" even in the end. And for Sharon Carter, who lied to him about being a nurse? His only acknowledgement of her greeting him is a terse "neighbour".

Do we really think he hasn't...at least questioned why a woman he has regularly visited over the last 2 years, who he trusted enough to go to for life advice (he literally gave a monologue to her about feeling lost, which is the most emotionally vulnerable we've ever seen Steve be aside from the post-funeral "end of the line" scene) has compartmentalised this vital piece of information about Zola? If not also about Hydra and Bucky?

At the end of the movie, Steve learns to trust again: it is in Sam, who had treated him like a fellow veteran, and who was open and truthful in all of their conversations; it is in Bucky, who had been steadfast and loyal in his friendship, and who saves his life upon hearing their childhood promise; and it is in Nat, who gradually sheds all her pretences through the movie and show him what she believes in.

But the organisation that he had once stayed in because Peggy had built it? Steve insisted on tearing it down even when Fury suggested to salvage it. CATWS was a story that built Peggy up to be a villain...then the MCU changed its mind and reneged on a Captain America 3.

#anti peggy carter #steve rogers #sam wilson #bucky barnes #catws #meta