#she and commander don't really look alike

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Holidays!! Could you write something for Fullmetal Alchemist please? If not then whatever you would like to continue works! Thanks in advance and I look forward to reading all of the prompts!!

a continuation of 1 2

There is a sea of irritated blonde cadets glaring at the guard in front of the gates, who for some reason seems nervous about them, as if he hasn't had to deal with arrogant new recruits who haven't even broken in their boots before. Havoc gives them all another once over, but their age means they really can't be anything else.

"If you don't get let us past, I'm going to get you demoted," the tallest blonde there says viciously. All of them look so alike that he almost things that they're related, all blonde and blue eyed and irritated.

That's. Quite a threat from some newbie nobody. Except the guard still looks nervous and isn't telling them to fuck off.

"Russel, please," sighs another, who on second glance is the only one of them without blue eyes. He's never seen anyone who had gold eyes before. "Brother should be here soon and he can sort this out."

"Sort what out?" scoffs the lone woman among them. The silver studs all up her ears aren't at all regulation and she's going to want to take them off before her commanding officer yanks them out. "As if our uniform shouldn't be enough to identify us-"

"Because we've never duplicated a uniform before," a boy who looks to be on the younger end of the group mutters.

"Shut up Khayal," they all chorus, except for the golden eyed man who just sighs.

"You should just take the exam so you have a stupid watch of your own to flash around," the woman complains.

The man rolls his golden eyes. "Why, so I can have the same rank I have now and can be mobilized without Brother's permission? He'd kill me. And then whoever was stupid enough to let me take the test."

A watch - same rank - is this guy saying he's a major? That can't be right. He tried to get a clear looks at any of their jackets, but their clustered together and mostly facing away from him.

"I have them!"

They all turn to see a mousy brown haired woman with thick glasses running towards them.

She stumbles as she makes it over and the shortest one steadies her. She flashes him a smile, "Thanks Fletcher," before shoving a bunch of papers at the guard. "Here, here are the authorization papers, although copies really should have been sent ahead of us-"

"What are you guys doing? I though you were going to get a head start on setting up the office."

Havoc was so focused on watching the unfolding drama that he hasn't noticed anyone approaching. He does a double take, not sure what he's seeing at first.

He has gold hair and eyes and a similar enough face structure that he has to related to the other golden eyed man. His hair is up in a long golden ponytail and there's a silver watch at his hip.

Havoc has a clear view of his jacket.

This kid is a colonel.

That means he can only be one person.

"I don't want to hear it, Ed," the woman says irritably. "Show the nice man your watch so we can actually get started. The first thing I'm going to do is call Central and tell them how much they fucked up."

"Nag, nag, nag Winry. If any of you bothered to carry identification, this wouldn't happen," Colonel Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist says, but dutifully takes the silver state alchemist's watch out of his pocket. The guard seems more relieved than any of them to wave them through.

"I said that I didn't want to hear it, Edward," Winry says sweetly in a way that has Russel and Fletcher hanging back several steps and Khayal grinning.

The sound of their bickering take a while to fade, which he thinks says more about their volume than their speed.

It turns our their new neighbors might not be as boring as they first thought.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #fma

[runningfrom2am]

Omg I neeeed a part two to hard to carry it’s so good!

your wish is my command :))

(i feel like this is literally so boring so apologies in advance lol)

hard to carry (II)

part one

pairing: jj x kook!reader

wc: 2.4k

After a week, JJ still couldn't get you off his mind. He resisted the urge to send you a message over Instagram several times, and his usage of the app spiked since you entered the username in his phone. Not that you posted anything new, but subconsciously, he was waiting for you to. More than once, he found himself tilting his phone away from his girlfriend while they were laying in bed together, hoping she wouldn't catch a glimpse of the latest picture of you he was staring at, desperately trying to recreate the feeling he got when he first laid eyes on you.

JJ is torn. Even as he sits on the takeout counter at The Wreck, laughing and talking with the girl he's loved for years, he can't help but compare her laugh to yours.

"No, JJ, we have to do something for Sarah's birthday, I'm just saying that it's a good option!" Kie laughs, wrapping her apron around her waist as she steps around the counter.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." JJ chuckles, glancing down at his phone as it vibrates in his hand. Disappointed again when it was just a message from John B, not from you. 

"JJ! Off the counter," Mike calls out, seeing a customer walking towards the door. JJ goes to jump down, stopping with his hands gripping the edge next to him when he looks up at the customer and sees that it's you.

You carefully close the door behind you, looking down at your phone taking the last few moments before you have to talk to an employee of the restaurant to place a long order with the list you got from your parents. You want to make sure you remember everything alright, avoiding stuttering and embarrassing yourself.

You look up as you approach the counter, smiling when your eyes land on JJ. "JJ the pogue!" You call out, smiling wide. "Do you work here?"

JJ smiles, relaxing again on the counter. "Hey! Uh, no, I don't." He shakes his head, looking back over his shoulder as Kie walks out, wiping off her hands, ready to take your order.

She swats at him to jump down and he does, his eyes not leaving you for a second while you speak.

"Weird that you're sitting on the counter in an establishment you don't work at." You tilt your head at him and he chuckles, shrugging and looking over at Mike when he intervenes.

"Agreed, sweetheart." The man says, brushing past behind you to join his daughter behind the counter.

"Uh... what can I get for you?" Kie asks, glancing between JJ and you as you stare at each other.

"Oh! Uh, I've got a bit of a list that I've totally forgotten, I was hoping to get everything to go as well. Just give me one sec..." You laugh in embarrassment, looking down at your phone again.

"I can just read the list, if that's easier." The girl suggests and you nod, handing it over to her.

"Thanks, I appreciate that." You say as Kie takes the phone, typing in the computer from what you have written down in your notes app.

"What's the name for the order?" She asks, sticking her tongue to the inside of her cheek as she notices how JJ is watching you so intently.

"Y/N." You answer, catching JJ's eyes again briefly as he leans back against the counter in front of you.

"So, JJ the pogue, how was that watermelon?" You ask as Kie writes the name down on the receipt and passes it off to her dad before handing you the debit machine, which you quickly tap your card on, leaving a generous tip. Her and the man she's working with seem really nice- you assume that it's her dad, since they look quite alike. You've always also valued small businesses, and getting to know different local restaurants and stores on the island has been a favourite hobby of yours since you arrived.

JJ nods in response. "It was really good! I was right- you had a good eye, Y/N the kook." He grins, and you don't notice as the father and daughter working both lock their eyes on the two of you at the same time.

"Okay-" You laugh, shaking your head and reaching up to brush away the hair that's fallen into your face. "You're right, that does sound so bad." You say, leaning against the counter next to him and picking up your phone from where the curly-haired girl left it.

JJ smiles at you, moving over a little to give you some space. He looks back over his shoulder when he hears Kie drop something, seeing instead that she just slammed something down on the counter while she was getting your drinks ready. "Do you two know each other? Or..." Kie asks when she notices both of your eyes on her. Your smile fades, suddenly getting the vibe that she's not pleased about the two of you talking.

"Yeah! Sorry, I'm Y/N. You knew that, though, I guess." You chuckle and she nods, looking over at her boyfriend and waiting for further explanation.

"We met at the grocery store last week, she helped me pick out a watermelon. The one we ate for breakfast yesterday, she said it was the second best one they had." JJ explains, cringing internally as Kie nods skeptically, raising her eyebrows to show she doesn't believe it. Or at the very least, doesn't care. "This is Kie, by the way. My girlfriend." He turns to you now, feeling guilty already for having to say that at all. Deep in his gut, he hopes he doesn't scare you off.

"Oh! Lovely to meet you!" You smile, hoping to make a good impression despite your slight disappointment. Of course JJ wasn't single, but you hadn't let yourself consider that until this point.

"Likewise." Kie grumbles, stepping away to grab something from the back. 

"So... uh, what brought you to The Wreck?" JJ asks you as she walks out of sight.

"We heard some five-star reviews." You shrug, smiling at him then looking up to Mike. "Also that the owners live just down the block, and are upstanding citizens." You say, making the man chuckle and shake his head.

"That's real sweet." He says, returning his focus to his cooking. "Your parents are the Y/L/N's, then, yeah?" Mike asks.

"Yes sir." You nod.

"Well, welcome to the island! I'm Mike, Kie is my daughter." He explains. "And JJ isn't even supposed to be in here." His tone shifts as his eyes land on the blonde boy next to you, making him tense up.

"Message received, sir." JJ salutes him. "I'll get out of your hair, then." He stands up away from the counter, heading for the door.

"I'll see you around, yeah?" He says to you, trying to commit your eye colour to memory as the bell above the door rings when he opens it.

"See you!" You smile and wave as as he leaves, walking just out of sight.

Mike diverts his eyes from the interaction, chewing on his lip as he focusses on not burning your food. He hates JJ, of course, and would love nothing more than him and Kie to break up, but even imagining the possibility of him cheating on her makes his blood boil. He remembers seeing that look on JJ's face in the way he used to look at his daughter, and now in the way he looks at you. Maybe he should let your food burn after all.

"It was nice to meet you both! No doubt I'll be back, this smells fantastic." You smile, holding the bag of takeout on your hip as you head for the door.

"Bye, tell your parents we'll have to meet them for dinner or something sometime!" Mike smiles at you and Kie just rolls her eyes.

"Of course. They would love that." You nod. "Bye, Kie!" You add in for good measure, smiling at her. You hope that if you do make good friends with JJ, the way you hope you will, you can befriend her too and make a better first impression.

"Later." She replies sarcastically as you open the door, slipping out and letting out a sigh as the door shuts behind you and you make your way to where you parked behind the building. That was tense.

"Hey! Y/N!" You look up before you open your car door, seeing JJ walking up to you.

"I thought you were kicked out." You laugh and JJ shrugs.

"Yeah, and I left." 

"Right, of course." You giggle.

"Uh, nice car you've got." He changes the subject. He's not sure why he even waited, or why he even came to talk to you, but he just knew he had to. He couldn't let you leave again without learning something, anything else about you.

You look back at the vehicle behind you, suddenly having never seen it in your life. "Oh, thanks. It's my pride and joy. We've been through a lot together." You joke.

"Yeah it's cute. Suits you." JJ admits, smile tugging at his lips as he looks between you and the car.

"And! Get this-" You say excitedly, pulling your keys from your pocket and fumbling with them in your one free hand before starting it from outside, the Bluetooth speakers automatically connecting to your phone and blasting the same Taylor Swift song you were listening to before you parked. "Bose speakers! Isn't it cool?" 

"That is sweet, yeah." JJ nods, but he doesn't even so much as glance at the car again. "We should take it for a ride sometime." He suggests hopefully, making your smile falter a little.

"Yeah! I mean, I don't know, I feel like Kie didn't like me very much." You say quieter, tucking the keys back into your pocket.

"She doesn't have to come." JJ shrugs, making you nervous. Both of you feel guilty even as he says it, but there's just something about you that makes him unable to resist the urge to ask.

"She's welcome to! She does seem lovely. She's gorgeous, by the way." You regain your smile, again, hoping to keep your possible new friends on your good side.

"Oh, yeah, thanks." JJ says, looking down at his feet briefly.

"Does she just... Not like you having girl friends? Or is this about the kook thing again? That would be weird though because I feel like she qualifies, her parents living down the street from me and all." You ask, genuinely curious.

"Uh.. could go either way, honestly. She's gone full pogue. Her parents hate me for that." JJ laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She kind of hates me these days too, to be honest."

Watching his movements, you can finally admit to yourself that you are absolutely jealous of her. He's gorgeous. "What do you mean?" You ask, shamefully hoping that this means their relationship is on the outs.

"Ah, well, shit. I don't know. We just fight, sometimes, and, I don't know." JJ tries to explain, not wanting to air out their dirty laundry to someone who's essentially a stranger. A beautiful one, none-the-less. 

"Oh..." You nod a little, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry to hear that-" 

"How about that drive, huh?" JJ interrupts you, staring into your eyes again.

"Oh- uh, yeah! We'll work out a time... I'll just message you?" You ask, taking the change of subject and running with it. "I've got to get this dinner home, my parents are waiting..."

"Shit, yeah, of course." JJ nods, giving his head a quick shake to ground himself in reality again.

"Bye, JJ the pogue!" You say, winking at him as you open your car door, placing the food on the passengers seat.

"Later, Y/N the kook." He teases, giving you a quick wave and turning to head back to his bike. God- he hopes you'll text him.

By the time Kie gets home and slams the front door, JJ is left in nothing but his pyjama pants, just about ready to go to sleep. He was hoping for a message from you that never ended up coming. You knew right away was not a good time, considering the new news that he has a girlfriend.

"Hey, baby-" He calls from the kitchen, Kie quickly following his voice and storming in. 

"Don't!" She says angrily, throwing her bag down on the counter. "What the fuck was that, JJ? Who is she?"

JJ sighs and rubs his eyes with one hand while she stares him down. "I told you, she just moved here, and we met at the grocery store- why are you-"

"No! Don't ask me why I'm being weird about it. I saw the way you looked at her! Are you fucking kidding me? In front of my dad, too? God- JJ you are unbelievable!" She shouts, shaking her head at him in utter disbelief.

"Alright- alright." JJ holds his hands up defensively. "If we want to play that game, let's talk about that touron I know you hooked up with at the kegger. Shall we? Let's go all in." He snaps, crossing his arms.

Kie's eyes widen at this. "What are you even talking about right now?"

JJ purses his lips together and nods quickly. "Oh, well, Pope told me he saw you- so don't even try to act like I'm the crazy one right now."

"It was one time!" Kie admits. "I don't even know his name- I couldn't find you and I got bored. Fuck, like, I'm sorry but this is different."

"It is different! Because I haven't done anything! I've never cheated on you! I'm loyal to you, always, I loved you through everything! I saved you from that stupid camp, and then forgave you for cheating on me, I never even said a word!" JJ shouts now, gripping the counter behind him.

"Don't you dare throw that in my face." Kie says, tone quieter now as she shakes her head at him. "I never asked you to do that. Honestly, maybe it would be better if you hadn't, actually!"

JJ nods sharply, leaving the kitchen and huffing as he walks to their room, throwing on a t-shirt. He has to get out of here. He can't imagine even coming back. He doesn't want to.

"JJ, If you walk out that door we are done." Kie says, appearing behind him as he pulls his shoes on.

JJ shakes his head a little, quickly shoving the door open and walking out without a second thought. The fresh air feels like it lifts a weight off his shoulders. He's upset, but can't help but feel relieved. He walks down towards John B's rebuilt home that he shares with Sarah, which luckily isn't very far from their own new house on the cut.

Before he reaches their door, he pulls out his phone and opens Instagram, opening your account and sending you a message. 

JJ: how about that drive?

It surprises him when you reply within a minute.

Y/N: sure :)

The guilt has faded away almost completely now, and he'll burn the bridge of dealing with Kie when he gets to it.

highly requested part two!! hopefully this didn't disappoint! (i'm definitely disappointed in it but that's neither here nor there)

taglist: @taurusvic, @casualsludgeshoetoad, @maybankspov, @sagcas-latte

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #jj obx #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank x you #outer banks #obx #obx fanfic #jj imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj blurb #jj maybank headcanons

[sexyandhedonistic]

Reacting to and correcting the worst Law of Assumption post on Tumblr.

Hello, my loves. For sexyandhedonistic's 2nd anniversary (Sept 1st) I thought it would be fun to revisit one of my very first posts to point and laugh at as someone who was terribly misinformed when first joining the community. I have stated on multiple occasions that I have outgrown so many of my terrible beliefs and it's always such a relief to see that I know better now. Anyway, let's get into it.

The correct way to manifest

Hi again! Today I wanted to address something that I feel I should elaborate a bit more on, partially as a disclaimer and partially as something that is crucial to remember. I know plenty of newbies in the community are rendered susceptible to what different people have to say about what to do and how to do it and it creates uncertainty, self doubt and disorientation. We all know what the law of assumption is and what it means: what you assume to be true, is. This is no exception for the ways in which you feel are best to manifest. Although I strongly endorse studying Neville Goddard's work to acquire a steady foundation of what the law is and how to work with it, you don’t need to be familiar with his teachings to manifest but I will continue to be an advocate for such. That said, here’s the secret: You create the rules

I've previously stated how I feel about "you create the rules" so I won't explain again but to recap:

It doesn't make sense!

Not only for the reasons I listed in the link above but because there is a distinction between rules and principle. People often interchange the two so to them something like "I don't need to feel the wish fulfilled" may feel like a third eye-opening revolutionary take and to think otherwise is limiting because of whatever reason but when you know the law.. it really isn't. It's silly, in fact. And you know something? I would've thought this was revolutionary two years ago. It just makes sense doesn't it? If I assume I don't need to feel then that should be okay because the law of assumption means whatever you assume must be true etc etc. (Yes I was one of those people who thought loopholing the law of assumption just made sense.) Before anyone thinks I'm bringing up a really hot new idea (I don't need to feel the wish fulfilled) let me explain why that doesn't make sense:

Feeling means to accept, so what do you mean you don't need to accept something as true for it to manifest.../?!!?? You see why something like this is quite literally nonsensical? Please, pleaseeeee read about the law of assumption from someone who doesn't film themselves speaking [hint: Neville Goddard or Edward Art] before you risk looking ignorant the way I unfortunately did when I first joined this community. I cannot tell you the amount of disappointingly misinformed posts I have come across from myself and my mutuals alike ever since that I now am able to look at and feel relieved by the fact that I know way better now.

"I strongly endorse studying Neville Goddard's work to acquire a steady foundation of what the law is and how to work with it" She's always been correct about this one I'm afraid.

"You don’t need to be familiar with his teachings to manifest" This one is right and wrong. You don't need to because manifesting isn't a Neville thing and people have manifested without knowing about the law of assumption. However, if you intend to work with the law of assumption, what is a "Neville thing", and put it into practice, then yes you do need to be familiar with his teachings. It doesn't really make sense for you to be interested in something without understanding it fully and butchering it in the process, now does it? Seriously, you guys. I cannot emphasize this enough:

Read. Source. Material.

You decide what works and how it works! Objects and activities like crystals, scripting, subliminals, affirming and persisting, commanding, 555/369, vision boards, and gratitude are not imperative in order for you to manifest. There are hundreds of people out there spreading their beliefs about the law and how to do it correctly... as if it were a fact. This is why, as I've stated previously, I strongly discourage you from getting your information off of social media or simply too many sources in general because different opinions will create confusion for you (which is why sticking to a single instructor aka Father Neville who knows what he's talking about would be a good idea). Not only that, but so many people have a tendency to share their limiting beliefs which include but are not limited to: not being able to manifest physical changes or a specific person, avoiding negative words like no don't can't in affirmations, consuming any means of media that are upsetting because they'll interfere, etc. None of these beliefs are true, but if you believe that they are then they will be. You don’t need to use SATS and you don’t need to script. At the end of the day, we are manifesting 24/7 through the story we reiterate in out heads. These methods simply serve as a bolster for those who feel more comfortable and confident using them.

"You decide what works and how it works!" sjhkdfklfkhgfdksjkkla

"Objects and activities like crystals, scripting, subliminals, affirming and persisting, commanding, 555/369, vision boards, and gratitude are not imperative in order for you to manifest. " She's not wrong, but while we're on the topic of gratitude, it's literally the wish fulfilled. I used to associate gratitude with law of attraction so I wouldn't agree with it as relevant to manifesting but the more I've thought about it, it suddenly hit me that that's literally feeling the wish fulfilled because it's acceptance. When you accept, you feel grateful, do you not? Anyway, we encourage gratitude here at sexyandhedonistic.

" You don’t need to use SATS" This isn't wrong but I love the state akin to sleep so actually it is wrong.

"At the end of the day, we are manifesting 24/7 through the story we reiterate in out heads." Right. It's called consciousness is the only reality.

People think the law has certain rules and because they believe them, it becomes a truth for them. It's up to you to decide what does and doesn't work for you! There are people who can just command their subconscious mind and do nothing else. There are people who’ve manifested a literal face swap overnight. Nevertheless, whatever method you feel works best, they all come down to the same core belief and that is KNOWING it'll work.

"People think the law has certain rules and because they believe them, it becomes a truth for them." *facepalm* Okay queen let's not mix up principles and rules. Methods are something completely independent (and optional), what matters is feeling because feeling is the secret.

On another note notice how I literally never ever ever talk about the subconscious mind anymore <3 it activates my fight-or-flight response because I remember the days when we all thought we had to "saturate" it with affirmations robotically and whatnot... All you need is imagination and faith (feeling), you guys <3. (But if you would like explanations that mention the subconscious mind I suggest checking out feeling is the secret [linked above], I would not suggest Joseph Murphy as he had some limiting beliefs such as not being able to manifest certain things).

"Whatever method you feel works best, they all come down to the same core belief and that is KNOWING it'll work" My sister in Christ, the word you are looking for is FEELING, not "knowing". They can be used interchangeably, yes, but I feel so absurd rereading my old posts and saying "(the state of) knowing" when I should've been saying feeling.

Manifesting should not feel like a chore, it should be a simple, fun and easy task to do! You do not need to lift a finger to manifest. Whatever you think it'll take to get it done, will be it. If you think you have to yell out your affirmations at the top of your lungs then that’s what it’ll take for them to work. If you think you need a crystal collection the size of east LA to manifest then start saving up or manifest them. This is the beauty about the law of assumption. You create the rules. Now that you’re understanding that you can create your own rules, have fun with it! Not only do you get to decide what works, but you also decide how well it works. Do you get subliminal results after one listen? Do you manifest in a week? Overnight? Will gratitude bring you your results quicker? Are you the best manifestor in the world and nothing can interfere with your manifestations? You literally call the shots. No matter what you pick, stick to it and KNOW it works. Good luck!

"Manifesting should not feel like a chore, it should be a simple, fun and easy task to do!" I mean yeah... I agree fully that it shouldn't feel taxing and tedious and you most definitely shouldn't treat it as a routine (ex. set alarms to affirm every hour...), it should definitely feel liberating and comforting because this is is about being that which you desire to be. In Neville's own words:

We often are deprived of our high goal by our effort to possess it. We are called upon to act on the assumption that we already are the man we would be. If we do this without effort, experiencing in imagination what we would experience in the flesh had we realized our goal, we shall find that we do, indeed, possess it. - Answered Prayer

"You do not need to lift a finger to manifest" Yeah <3 As I always say, being > doing.

"This is the beauty about the law of assumption. You create the rules... Do you get subliminal results after one listen? Do you manifest in a week? Overnight? Will gratitude bring you your results quicker? Are you the best manifestor in the world and nothing can interfere with your manifestations? You literally call the shots." Pleasee please please PLEASE be quiet.

You guys I had to put on a hazmat suit to go through this post. I think if there was such a thing as a written version of what a six day old McChicken with extra mayonnaise left out in the hot Texas summer sun would taste like... it would be this post, but at least it's over now, so to conclude:

1. You cannot tweak principle 2. Methods are not what manifest 3. FEELING is the secret 4. Read source material

I hope this post has encouraged some of you to not repeat the same mistakes or misinformation I did as well as made you reevaluate your approach towards the law of assumption. This post is not entirely horrendous but it was horrendous enough that I decided to remove it from my blog. There is way better information that has surfaced ever since and I warn you guys once again from the risks of learning about it from someone who doesn't know what they're talking about. One of the most absurd and ridiculous beliefs I used to have and got from a certain blogger on here was that "you don't need to work on your self concept to manifest".......... I do not feel like getting into why this is does not make sense at all and why every time I would see someone say "Neville didn't work on his self concept to go to Barbados!" I would simply side eye, but anyway.

Please dedicate time to really learn about the law of assumption from Neville Goddard himself or from Edward Art's Reddit posts. My understanding of the law may have evolved ever since but something that has unfortunately not changed in this community is the circulation of misinformation. It only harms you guys and will consequently incite frustration because someone told you that your thoughts manifest (not true) and suddenly you're spiraling because you think you need to be flipping all of them (you do not). I know I made multiple jokes throughout but do not take this advice lightly and do not deem this post as me saying that I'm right and everyone else is wrong. I'm advising you all as someone who's been through all of it and wants better for you. Please choose your sources wisely and please learn from my mistakes.

[imarvelatthestars]

Cyare

Pairings: Sister x f!Reader, ft. Cody

Warnings: reader sticks her foot in her mouth, but it's awkwardly endearing; fluff + flirting

Notes: For those who don't know, Sister is a clone from the novels Queen's Hope & Brotherhood. I've been wanting to write for her for a while and this turned into the perfect opportunity!

Coruscant is the same as it always is, as is 79's - crowded, dirty, bright, a metallic mess built atop a subtle, hidden beauty. Sister sips at her drink, some bitter liquor that takes the edge off, and she sighs. She watches you flit shyly about at the fringes of the dance floor, watches the streaks of neon light on your skin as you bob your head to the music, and she feels her entire body go white hot and ice cold all at once.

An elbow in her ribs has her blinking back to the present, only to find that the Commander is watching her with an entirely too pleased glint in his eyes. Fierfek.

"We still have another day of shore leave," he says.

She could deny it. He's being vague enough that she could pass off the remark as anything other than what it actually is, but despite being embarrassed at getting caught staring, despite the flutter-bys in her stomach that start up any time she considers even approaching you, she finds that there's a part of her that doesn't want to shrug Cody's remark or its implication aside.

She opts for a single nod. An acknowledgement, an understanding, but nothing that will make her have to open her mouth. Force only knows what would come out.

Sparks and Raptor come bounding up then. Their drinks are spilling all over the place and Sparks is laughing so hard he's crying. They're going on about some stupid joke the pretty Chalactan bartender made and Cody's rolling his eyes and all that Sister can do is take another sip of her drink. She doesn't look in your direction again, she doesn't think about what it might be like to dance with you or to hold your hand, and she definitely doesn't think about your smile.

Or perhaps that beauty she always manages to seek out on her least favorite planet is just you.

Clones are, by default, all alike. That's kind of the whole point of them. But every clone you've ever met has made an effort to make himself different from his brothers - a different hairstyle or color, no tattoos, all tattoos, piercings, scars, armor paint, all of the above, sometimes none if they're shinies. It's incredible how they've crafted their own culture out of whispers of Mandalorian tradition like their progenitor before them and nods to the Jedi Order, to Coruscanti or Ryloth or Kel Dorin cultures that reflect their generals.

All two years of this war so far, though, and you've never seen a clone like her. Her. She's the only female clone you've ever met. Well, not met. Noticed. You noticed her the first time she came into 79's a few weeks back. It would be hard not to. She's tall and broad shouldered like her brothers, there's a thickness to her arms and thighs that screams about the type of fit, competent soldier she is. Her skin glows under 79's fluorescents, her teeth are brilliantly white when she smiles, but the thing that really gets you like, every time, is her hair.

You've gotten lost in glimpses of it too many times to count. When she first came in, her hair was braided tight against her scalp and her armor had a few streaks of blue and pink. Now, though, the braids are long gone. She's let her hair down from its bun and is - oh kriff, yeah she's shaking her hair out and it should not be giving you this many flutter-bys, yet here you are.

She's beautiful. Does she know? Is she aware of how stunning she is? Something about the sternness of her jawline, the strong angle of her nose, the swell of her shoulder muscles as they smooth out above her collarbones, right where her hair rests in large, frizzed curls. Fucking Maker, she makes you nervous. The fact that she gets her genes from Jango freaking Fett just makes you even more of a flustered disaster.

"You look lost."

The voice that startles you from your stupor belongs to the commander of the 212th himself, Cody. He's professional, but has been friendlier toward you of late, offering snippets of conversation when he comes to request refills for himself or his men. And woman, as the case may be.

You chuckle to yourself as you take the glass he offers you and start to refill it with liquor. "Promise I'm not," you say. "'m right where I'm supposed to be, aren't I?"

Cody nods, but his expression is thoughtful, slightly humored. "You're behind the bar, alright, but you're not here." His forearms brace against the lip of the bar as he leans in a bit, and it's the closest the commander's ever been to you since you first started working here. You almost wonder if this is his way of flirting with you. It's not such an awful idea, although it's tiresome in this environment. "Somethin' on your mind?"

You top off his glass and place it near one wrist, not too close to the bar's edge. "What makes you say that?" you ask with a too-sweet voice and a well-practiced smile. You make an effort not to look in the direction you had been before Cody approached you, the direction of his sister, the one clone in the entire galaxy who's managed to catch your eye more than any other.

He takes a sip, hardly wincing at the sharp bite of the alcohol when it hits his throat. "She likes you, y'know."

And it's a good thing you're not allowed to drink on the job because if you had, you'd be spraying it all over Cody's chest plate now. "What?!" you sputter as you choke on your saliva. It hits you a second later to attempt plausible deniability, though you know that ship has long since sailed. "What, um, what are you... talking about?"

The laugh he gives you in response is enough to make your face burn. "She's one o' the good ones. And I don't say that lightly. Most of these troopers are di'kute." And he emphasizes this with a thumb tossed over his shoulder and a not-so-subtle roll of his eyes. But then he takes another drink, pushes himself off the bar, and nods politely at you as if he hadn't just uncovered your secret crush and brought the entire galaxy down atop your head at the same time. "See y' around, civvy."

You're a fool, and you know you shouldn't seek her out when her commander leaves, but you do it anyway. The purple, pink, and orange paint job makes it easy. She's as beautiful as ever, nursing her drink with something of a panicked glimmer in her eyes, but there's something more there, too. It's difficult to make out in the dim lighting that 79's provides, but you can see it better when she tilts her head and looks at you properly. You'd almost call it hope.

It's your job as a bartender to be aware of your surroundings. Fights break out easily when the building is packed full of boozed up soldiers and their dates. So of course you notice that one trooper in particular lingers this night. She stays long after her brothers and higher ranking officers have left, long after the main buzz sustaining the bar mellows into something much more tame and the night grows late.

You try not to think too much about it. Lots of troopers stay late, lots of troopers stay after their companions have gone. But this time is different because it's her and you want it to be different, you want it to mean something. And you don't even know her name. It would be laughable if it wasn't so pathetic.

So imagine your surprise when your shift ends and your replacement slips into place behind the bar, when you've grabbed your bag from the staff room and are about to head out, when the very trooper you've been thinking of the entire night approaches you. She's much taller up close than you'd first thought. Perhaps you'd assumed she'd be shorter than the others, seeing as human women are often shorter than human men in your experience. Or perhaps you'd never really thought too much about it. Either way, her height paired with the broad span of her shoulders and the way the lights catch her eyes when she smiles at you all leads you to the conclusion that you're done for already.

"Hello." She has a nice, rumbly voice that's a bit like Cody's, but different somehow. A smoky alto that makes your heart feel weird.

You swallow your nerves as you resettle the strap of your bag over your shoulder. "Hi." You're not normally this timid, at least not on the job, but she makes you feel so many things that you can hardly think.

She shifts on her feet a bit, one hand rubbing anxiously at the plastoid on her thigh. "My name's Sister. I saw you talking with the commander earlier. I'm sorry."

Whatever it was you'd been expecting, or hoping, to hear, none of that was on your list. Funnily enough, you're the most disappointed to hear her name. You've heard all sorts of names here - Charger, Atin, Tango, Tai - some are unique, some are shared, but you had been hoping that her name would be one of the more unique and interesting ones, something that would give you an idea of who she is. Something you might find yourself saying over and over again. But Sister... It makes sense. In this respect, you suppose it is one of the more unique ones, but it doesn't exactly lend itself to romantic notions.

By the time that thought has come and gone, you've managed to blink and the rest of her introduction has finally processed. "'Sorry'?" you echo. "For what?"

Sister manages a wrinkled smile. "He seems t' be under the impression that you fancy me. 's why he indulged himself in a refill."

And finally, it clicks. She's not interested. She's picked up on your lingering looks and generally amorous aura, most likely, and after a miscommunication with her commander, she's here to let you down easy.

You shake your head even as your eyes drop to Sister's shoulder. It's too embarrassing to hold her gaze anymore. "No, I'm sorry. I haven't been professional enough. You... you don't have to apologize for anything. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Now, if she'll just let it go here, you can head back to your apartment and nurse your rejection with some comfort food and a holo.

"You didn't." And your head snaps up so quickly that it almost hurts. The expression she's wearing now is curious, confused. "I thought I'd made you uncomfortable. Some of the men like t' play matchmaker when they get an idea in their heads," she explains, "and this was one time I couldn't talk him out of it."

"So..."

You don't even dare to hope, but maybe...

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in goin' for a drink?"

She makes for a fierce and brave soldier, you're sure, but it's impossible in this moment not to see the tension in her brows and shoulders, the way her throat bobs when she swallows, the awkward bend of her legs. She's nervous, perhaps as nervous as you would be if you'd ever managed the courage to ask her out first.

"Is that what you want?" You'd hate for her to go to all this trouble just because of Cody. Because it would really hurt if that's all this is.

Sister smiles faintly, the inner corner of her brows turning up a bit as she considers you. There's a few seconds where she tilts her head down at you and the lights change behind her, and it's like she's haloed in hues of purple and orange. Kriff, she's gorgeous.

"Only if that's what you want."

You find yourself nodding without even a moment of hesitation or thought. And the whisper of a smile on the trooper's face blossoms into a grin. She offers you her arm and it feels only natural to take it.

May the gods, the Maker, and anyone else bless Jango Fett for getting himself cloned. You wonder sometimes if he was much of a romantic, or a flirt, if he was good with the ladies, the men, with anyone who wanted him, if he knew just what to say and do to make people trip all over themselves for him. Because Sister is amazing at it without even trying.

Any time she's on Coruscant, she takes you out, and every time you find yourself falling a little deeper for her. She's often quite serious and keeps many of her thoughts to herself, content to ask a few questions and listen to you ramble on, but it's charming the way she does it. Because she remembers. You'd mentioned that first night how you loved to take your kaf a certain way, and the very next date she took you to a (clone friendly) place on one of the middle levels and recited your order perfectly. She opens doors for you, walks on the street side of the duracrete when she can, and she has this way of smiling at you that makes your heartrate triple and your chest feel tight.

"Can I ask you something?"

She takes a bite of her food and nods, encouraging you with a gentle hum.

It's been on your mind a lot. Not because it bothers you, but because you're curious why she never chose something else. "Could I... I was wondering... Your name. Did you pick it?" You can think of a number of other descriptors that don't simply relay her familial status - considerate, polite, beautiful, smart, strong.

It's hard to read her expression now, but you notice that she goes a little tense. "It was given to me by my brothers. It was their way of showing they accepted me."

"Why wouldn't they accept you?"

Sister's mouth twitches into a frown. "The issue was never with them," she explains, "but those on Kamino who see difference as a weakness."

The idea itself is mind boggling. "There's nothing about you that's weak." It comes unbidden from the depths of your heart, the most genuine and unfiltered thing you've probably ever said to her. You have the decency to flush at your level of earnest honesty, but decide in the end to simply roll with it. "I think you're wonderful."

Whatever she'd been thinking or feeling upon your initial questioning, it seems to morph now into something dazzling that strikes you right between the ribs when she smiles at you. "Not that you're biased," she teases.

You shake your head with false seriousness. "Not at all."

Her hand finds yours, the first time the two of you have touched beyond the offering and taking of an arm, or the exchanging of goods over the counter at 79's.

"Why the sudden interest in my name?"

It's a well-meaning question with no malice or hidden agenda - it's upfront in the same way that she is, but it makes you cringe with embarrassment all the same. Because yes, the two of you have been dating. Yes, she knows you like her and you know she likes you. Yes, these moments you share are precious, but to verbalize your reasoning would be another step closer to making whatever this is between you real. And that's terrifying.

But if you've learned anything these past weeks, it's that you could never deny Sister anything. Certainly not when she catches your eye and looks at you like she's the most beautiful, handsome, wonderful woman in the galaxy. (Even though she is.)

"Promise you won't laugh?" She nods and squeezes your hand for good measure. "I just thought that... Well, doesn't your name get awkward when you see people? I mean, like, dating?"

"You don't like it?" she says after a moment, and her hand goes slack in yours.

"No! That's not it. I think it's lovely, especially coming from your brothers. I only meant that it might have been awkward in the past. If you were ever with someone and they said your name when you were intimate." Your mouth is moving far faster than you can coherently think, faster than you can filter your thoughts, and so it's all coming out and you're helpless to stop it because you have to explain yourself, you have to make sure she understands. You don't want her to think you don't like her all because you stuck your foot in your mouth like an idiot. "Or maybe that never came up. I don't know, I don't want to presume. I don't always say my partner's name when we're intimate. Not that I'm assuming we will be! I, I only meant... Well..."

You're left feeling stupid at the end of it. And speechless. And embarrassed. And horrified that you've just ruined the most wonderful thing to ever happen to you. You can't even look at her now.

All the noises of Coruscant's busy airlanes and buzzing market stalls and irritated pedestrians flood your senses as you close your eyes against your shame. There's a speeder backfiring a few roads over, it sounds like. Someone is arguing in Huttese at one of the stalls. And Sister is quiet when she takes your hand again, impossibly gentle and unsettlingly silent.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking."

"You weren't. Or you were thinking too much." But it's not said as an accusation. You peek one eye open, then the other, and are surprised to find Sister watching you with a bemused expression and a quirked eyebrow. "Been sitting on that one for long?"

You sputter wordlessly for several seconds before she puts you out of your misery.

"You're cute when you're flustered, cyar'ika." And she drops your hand in favor of cupping your chin beneath her thumb. It somehow manages to wipe your brain of all coherent thought. "Didn't know you thought about us being intimate so much."

It would be better for a rancor to swallow you whole than to endure another minute of this blissful, terrible, wonderful torture. You want her to let it go, but you also want her to stay exactly where she is and keep teasing you until your legs give out. You're not sure what that says about you.

"Tell you what," she continues once she realizes you've temporarily lost the ability to speak, "if we ever decide to be intimate, you can call me cyare. Yeah?"

Through some miracle of the Force, you're able to manipulate your tongue into functioning again. "What's that mean?"

Sister only smirks, the first true smirk she's ever given you and you're certain it'll stop your heart. But it softens a moment later. "Beloved," she murmurs, eyes lingering on the movement of your mouth as you lick your lips. She's still gently grasping your chin and you're still falling for her, hard and fast.

"I like that. I like you."

"Yeah?" There's a moment where you think she might kiss you, but she leans in and instead presses her nose to yours, then her forehead to your forehead, and all you feel is the warmth of her breath on your skin. "I like you, too, cyar'ika." She smells like spiced meat and kaf and some sort of muted cologne, but it's not like the kind you've caught a whiff of from her brothers. It's rich and sharp, but with a hint of something softer and sweeter, like citrus and jasmine.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask, and Sister huffs.

"Thought you'd never ask."

prompt: cody 💛✔️

@clonexreaderbingo

taglist: @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @moodymisty @wolffegirlsunite @bobaprint @freesia-writes @deewithani @wings-and-beskar @wizardofrozz @anxiouspineapple99 @multi-fan-dom-madness @deejadabbles

(i'm pretty sure this is my full taglist, but if i forgot you please let me know! i think i lost track of a couple requests and would love to add y'all if you want)

#clone trooper sister #clone trooper sister x reader #commander cody #cfb2023 #star wars #inspired by: i am extremely bisexual and beautiful women make me nervous

[definesanity]

Sorry for the wait, I just realized I needed to get my brainrots in order (?) and I have a few to share today:

- Canon Ranni and the Tsaritsa are a lot alike, divine-adjacent royalty associated with frost/Cryo. Also, Cryo users all seem to have a contradiction or irony in their life, i.e. Kaeya being a Khaenrian who protects Mondstadt, Diona a bartender who hates drinkers, Rosaria a nun who doesn't worship the gods, Aloy a Sony character in a Chinese animesque game, etc. The Tsaritsa is a goddess of love who has no love left for her people, a god who is (possibly) rebelling against the very order that usurped the Dragon Sovereigns and propped her kind up in the first place. Ranni (and by extension Ranni!Reader) is an Empyrean, chosen by the Greater Will as a potential new vessel for their will, for the Order they have forcibly imposed on The Lands Between, yet Ranni turns her back on them and forges her own path, no matter the cost.

All of this to say, imagine R!R and the Tsaritsa properly meeting for the first time, each laying their cards on the table (to an extent) and oh, finding something of a kindred spirit in the person opposite them. I can just imagine R!R saying:

"I think we shall get along just fine, sister."

Word spreads, and R!R proceeds to never clarify if they meant it literally.

- So the original gods of Teyvat were the Dragon Sovereigns. Let's assume the Creator made them as well. What if their form reflects that?

I imagine R!R initially wakes up in Teyvat in their original body, AKA the flesh they once discarded during the Night of Black Knives. When they recreate the events of that Night with some poor fool in Godwyn's place (I know I orginally said Focalores, but lately I lean towards Raiden or the imposter themselves) their new doll body more closely resembles their original form - you know, red-haired and Just Big like their parents (still with four arms, though). Half of their ghostly face is sort of overlaid on their physical one, like a spookier Phantom of the Opera mask.

Again, all of this to say: imagine R!R with spectral horns and a spectral dragon tail. Now they match with Adula. R!R would be imposing even without them, but with them, they command attention, perhaps even fear.

- Speaking of Adula, I wanna expand on that one brainrot I sent - in Teyvat, Adula has a half-dragon form, tail and horns and claws and all. My idea was 'Rhaenyra Targaryan, but pale and scary apex predator with white hair.' And as I was playing my catalysts only Genshin account, I realized something - the face I was picturing would look remarkably similar to Neuvillette.

Like, half-dragon Adula would be much scruffier than him - imagine the Lazuli Robe, but with a good portion of the skirt unevenly torn off, and something like Rennala's leggings underneath. No gloves or shoes, just simple cloth wrappings. A veritable ragamuffin of a grown woman, the Creator’s draconic equivalent of Scary Dog Privilege, but between the white hair, stoicism and intimidating aura, she looks like she could be the Chief Justice’s long-lost daughter.

Rumours spread, and Neuvillette neither confirms nor denies them, because - well, he doesn't remember, and for all he knows, Adula is related to him somehow.

I've run out of brain juice for the moment, so I will pose you a question: how do you think Neuvillette feels about Furina? I don't mean shipping, but like, what does he think of her as, in relation to him?

Thanks, and well, that's a good question.

Exasperated, maybe. Furina is an Archon, and very much flamboyant. Neuvillette is devoted to his duties and the nation he works for. To me, I see Neuvillette as sort of a tired, almost fatherly/brotherly figure to Furina. Sure, you can hear the annoyance, but I'd like to think he's gotten used to it. It's just his Furina shows herself to others.

Side note: I don't really mind people shipping them. I can certainly see it, though; it's just not for me, really xd

Thank you again for your thoughts! :D

#ryuusei's replies #genshin impact #Neuvillette #furina #sagau #sagau ring #sagau brainrot #ranni!reader #fandom enjoyer

[t-305tv]

Hi, can you do one with Tori being an angel and Jade being a devil and they're involved in a forbidden relationship, please?

In the celestial realm, Tori glimmered with the pure light of an angel, her wings spanning wide and shimmering with every movement. She exuded kindness and compassion, her heart radiating warmth to all who crossed her path.

Contrastingly, Jade embodied the darkness of a devil, her presence commanding and alluring with an air of mystery that drew others in. Her wings, obsidian and edged with crimson, hinted at the power she wielded, while her piercing gaze held a depth that few dared to explore.

Despite their stark differences, Tori and Jade found themselves inexplicably drawn to each other. Their forbidden attraction sparked a tumultuous romance that defied the boundaries set by their celestial kin.

Tori, with her unwavering belief in redemption and forgiveness, saw beyond Jade's facade of darkness. She saw the flicker of light buried deep within Jade's soul, a light waiting to be ignited.

Jade, in turn, found solace in Tori's purity, a purity that offered her a glimpse of the goodness she had long believed herself unworthy of. Tori's presence brought a sense of peace to the chaos that roiled within her.

Tori soared through the clouds, her fluffy white wings taking her higher above the Earth. As an angel, it was her duty to spread love and kindness to humans. But recently, her mind had been distracted by thoughts of a certain demon. 

Jade was unlike any devil Tori had ever met. Where others of her kind reveled in chaos and cruelty, Jade just seemed bored with it all. During their chance encounters on the border between Heaven and Hell, the two found themselves drawn to each other. 

Despite their natural enmity as angels and demons, Tori and Jade's conversations stretched longer each time. There was an energy between them, a spark that neither could explain. One night, as Tori flew over a nighttime city below, she spotted Jade perched on a rooftop, illuminated by the glow of the moon. 

"You again," Jade greeted with a smirk. Tori's heart fluttered at the familiar sight of Jade's piercing blue-green eyes. 

"We shouldn't keep meeting like this. It's wrong," Tori said, though making no move to fly away. Jade reached out a hand and tucked a lock of Tori's brown hair behind her ear. 

"Do you really want to stop?" Jade whispered. Tori hesitated, then leaned in to kiss the demon passionately under the moonlight. Their forbidden love had begun.

Tori sighed contentedly as she rested in Jade's arms, her wings curled around them both. For now, under the cover of night, their differences didn't seem to matter. But she knew that come the dawn, they would have to part again. 

"Stay with me," Jade murmured, running her fingers through Tori's hair. The angel shook her head sadly. "You know I can't. If the others found out..." 

Jade tilted Tori's chin up to look into her eyes. "Don't you ever get tired of following all their rules? Don't you want more than this stolen night?" Her words held a tempting promise, but also potential consequences Tori didn't want to consider. 

Before she could reply, shouts in the distance made them both freeze. "Intruder! A demon on holy ground!" Tori gasped - they must have been spotted from the heavens. She started to pull away but Jade held fast. "Come with me, please," the demon pleaded. 

Tori saw the urgency in Jade's eyes, the care she felt underneath her tough exterior. As the angels' cries grew nearer, she made her choice. "Okay. Let's go." 

Their love was forbidden, frowned upon by both angels and devils alike. They knew that their union would be met with scorn and condemnation, yet they could not deny the pull they felt toward each other.

Their clandestine meetings took place in the shadows, away from prying eyes. Tori and Jade reveled in the stolen moments they shared, their love burning bright despite the darkness that surrounded them.

But even as they clung to each other, they knew that their love was a precarious balance between light and dark, good and evil. Their worlds threatened to tear them apart, yet they refused to let go, holding onto each other with a fierceness born of desperation.

For in each other's arms, Tori and Jade found a love that transcended the boundaries of heaven and hell, a love that defied all odds and dared to rewrite the rules of the celestial realm.

Spreading her midnight black wings, Jade scooped Tori into her arms and took off into the night, pursuing a future without borders between them at last. Their love had defied thedivide between Heaven and Hell - now nothing would keep them apart.

#victorious #victoria justice #jori #elizabethgillies #jori vest #elitoria #victoriajustice #jori>othervictoriousships #jade west #torivega #jade x tori #tori and jade #jade and tori #tori x jade #tori #tori vega #jadewest #west #jade #vega

[toomanyrobins2]

Back to School

Summary: An orphan all her life, Y/N is simply too old to remain at The Bowery Home any longer. That is where an anonymous patron has swooped in to send her off to college and all he requires…a monthly letter of her academic progress.

Based off the book and musical “Daddy Long Legs”

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

last part // series masterlist // next part

Notes: I'm finally getting around to updating this fic! If you would like to catch up and get more consistent updates to this story and others I would go to by AO3!

All of August, Bruce waited and waited for a letter and one never came. He’d driven Clark crazy asking him to call on his parents and make sure that Y/N was well. Hearing that she was indeed perfectly healthy only made him want to tear his hair out more. Everyone around him was waiting for him to boil over, and yet he continued to pace.

When halfway through September when Alfred appeared at his study door with a letter in hand, Bruce nearly crawled across the desk.

28th August 

Dear Batman,

I am so sorry for forgetting to write you this month of August. It seemed that every time I sat down to write, something else would arise and draw me away. 

I was weighed yesterday on the flour scales in the general store at the Comers. I've gained nine pounds! I no longer feel like a gangly orphan, drowning in someone’s leftover dress. Let me recommend Kent Farm as a health resort.

Yours ever,

Y/N

 

September 1st

Dear Batman,

I hope this letter finds you as well as I feel. I truly believe you have delivered me to an oasis and in it, I have discovered the meaning of happiness. Being offered such freedom after a life of rigidity has revealed to me that the secret to happiness is to just enjoy this ride. To not let the journey be tainted by pride and not to mourn the past.

I plan to enjoy this life and I will not rush to the end when there is so much good to discover. I want to run through the hills and listen to the wind rush through the trees. I want to see the world and write about everything I’ve learned and I have you to thank for such a discovery. 

Happiness, it seems, unfolds when we learn to be still amid the constant motion of life.

In essence, the secret of our happiness is not elusive—it is clear, near, and here. It is a culmination of these realizations, a blend of living in the moment, embracing challenges, and finding joy in the simplicity of being. I hope my ramblings make some sense to you and I hope that you have felt even a bit of the joy that you have given me.

Wishing you all the joy,

Y/N

 

September 25th

Dear Batman,

Behold me—a Sophomore! I came up last Friday, sorry to leave Kent Farm, but glad to see the campus again. It is a pleasant sensation to come back to something familiar. I am beginning to feel at home in college, and in command of the situation; I am beginning, in fact, to feel at home in the world—as though I really belonged to it and had not just crept in on sufferance.

I don't suppose you understand in the least what I am trying to say. A person important enough to be a Trustee can't appreciate the feelings of a person unimportant enough to be a foundling.

And now, Bats, listen to this. Whom do you think I am rooming with? Barbara Gordon and Harriet Rutledge Kane. It's the truth. We have a study and three little bedrooms—voila!”

Barbara and I decided last spring that we should like to room together, and Harriet made up her mind to stay with Barbara—why, I can't imagine, for they are not a bit alike; but the Kanes are naturally conservative and inimical (fine word!) to change. Anyway, here we are. Think of Y/NAbbott, late of the Bowery Home for Orphans, rooming with a Kane. This is a democratic country.

Barbara is running for class president, and unless all signs fail, she is going to be elected. Such an atmosphere of intrigue you should see what politicians we are! Oh, I tell you, when we women get our rights, you men will have to look alive in order to keep yours. Election comes next Saturday, and we're going to have a torchlight procession in the evening, no matter who wins.

I am beginning chemistry, a most unusual study. I've never seen anything like it before. Molecules and Atoms are the materials employed, but I'll be in a position to discuss them more definitely next month.

I am also taking argumentation and logic.

Also history of the whole world.

Also plays of William Shakespeare.

Also French.

If this keeps up many years longer, I shall become quite intelligent.

I should rather have elected economics than French, but I didn't dare, because I was afraid that unless I re-elected French, the Professor would not let me pass—as it was, I just managed to squeeze through the June examination. But I will say that my high-school preparation was not very adequate.

There's one girl in the class who chatters away in French as fast as she does in English. She went abroad with her parents when she was a child, and spent three years in a convent school. You can imagine how bright she is compared with the rest of us—irregular verbs are mere playthings. I wish my parents had chucked me into a French convent when I was little instead of a foundling asylum. Oh no, I don't either! Because then maybe I should never have known you. I'd rather know you than French.

Goodbye, Batman. I must call on Harriet now, and, having discussed the chemical situation, casually drop a few thoughts on the subject of our next president.

Yours in politics,

Y/N Abbott

 

17th October

Dear Batman,

Supposing the swimming tank in the gymnasium were filled full of lemon jelly, could a person trying to swim manage to keep on top or would he sink?

We were having lemon jelly for dessert when the question came up. We discussed it heatedly for half an hour and it's still unsettled. Barbara thinks that she could swim in it, but I am perfectly sure that the best swimmer in the world would sink. Wouldn't it be funny to be drowned in lemon jelly?

Two other problems are engaging the attention of our table:

1st. What shape are the rooms in an octagon house? Some of the girls insist that they're square; but I think they'd have to be shaped like a piece of pie. Don't you?

2nd. Suppose there were a great big hollow sphere made of looking-glass and you were sitting inside. Where would it stop reflecting your face and begin reflecting your back? The more one thinks about this problem, the more puzzling it becomes. You can see “with what deep philosophical reflection we engage our leisure!

Did I ever tell you about the election? It happened three weeks ago, but so fast do we live, that three weeks is ancient history. Barbara was elected, and we had a torchlight parade with transparencies saying, 'Gordon for Ever,' and a band consisting of fourteen pieces (three mouth organs and eleven combs).

We're very important persons now in '258.' Harriet and I come in for a great deal of reflected glory. It's quite a social strain to be living in the same house with a president.

Bonne nuit, cher Bats.

Acceptez mez compliments, 

Tres respectueux,

Je suis, 

Votre Y/N

 

23rd October

Dear Bats,

I find myself once again pondering your appearance. I know you are not bald, so now I am destined to wonder what color your hair is? 

How old are you? I know you won't tell me but you can't stop me from wondering

Where are you now? How goes your day? And are your sporting silver or grey? What are you like? Who could you be? 'Cause I have imagined a kindly old man of at least ninety-two. 

On my own I can only imagine. But if we could meet It would lift my heart beause I'd know the colour of your eyes.

The silly thoughts that dance through my mind,

Yours in curiosity,

Y/N

From the desk of Mr Bruce Wayne

The dim glow of the Wayne Manor study cast long shadows as Bruce Wayne found himself unable to escape the haunting thoughts that lingered in his mind. The weight of his deception, the web of half-truths and concealed identities, weighed heavily on him, disrupting any chance of finding solace in the embrace of sleep. Frustration gnawed at him, and in the quiet of the night, he decided to confront the turmoil within by putting pen to paper.

Seated at his desk, Bruce began to write, the ink flowing from the nib of his pen as he poured out the thoughts that had plagued him for far too long.

Dear Y/N, I've been meaning to write to you for quite some time, but with no success. It felt rather dishonest writing to you as Bruce Wayne when all your letters were being written to me as Batman. So I put it off. I shouldn't have done. But I did. Your discovery of my connection to Kent Farm has made a confession all the more necessary, yet I still don't know whether to write to you as Bruce telling you I'm Batman or Batman telling you I'm Bruce. Either way, I feel I shall be a terrible disappointment to you. What can I say? What would make sense? I've made a mess of things at your expense. My little deceit is haunting me now. All I want is to tell you the truth, but I just don't know how. How can I manage to soften this blow when you know the color of my eyes? I am in agony, guessing what you might do once you find out I have thoroughly lied to you. Would you forgive me? I write this to you only because it's late and I can't get to sleep as I think of the hurt in your eyes. I feel like an idiot, knowing the color of your eyes and not revealing to you that you already have the answer to every question about my appearance. Yours in the sincerest of regrets, Batman Bruce Wayne Bruce

Folding the letter with a sense of finality, Bruce tucked it away in his desk, knowing that he couldn't send it. As dawn approached and the night's shadows slowly gave way to the light of a new day, Bruce found himself still grappling with the uncertain path that lay ahead, wondering if he could ever find a way to bridge the gap between the man behind the mask and the person he longed to reveal himself to.

#toomanyrobins #batman #batman imagine #batman x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne x reader #battison #battison imagine

[la-pheacienne]

I love LOVE your rhaelya thoughts. rhaelya hunts the narrative and the characters, more in daenerys, arya and jon. but jon, oh, jon :(. bby boy thinks that his mother did not love him, but lyanna's last words and thoughs were for him "promise me ned, promise me" probably to protect him forever but couldn't, and that is why ned feels like he failed. and rhaegar, while he is most and foremost paralleled to dany, jon has number of things from him. the truth of the parentage is gonna be a conflict from him, but i truly believe that he will love having a mother that loved him and that his parents loved each other. jon has been dreaming of it for years.

Thank you nonnie!! 💖

Well yes Jon breaks my heart in that situation. And when he finds out who his parents, he will probably believe he is a child born out of rape because that's what all Northerners believe apart from Ned who is dead. It will take a while I think before he finds out who his father really was.

And yes, Rhaegar has been paralleled to Dany mainly that's one of the reasons people hate him so much but there are a lot of parallels with Jon too. That's an interesting question because I've always seen and loved Jon particularly because of how pure of a Stark he was. The brooding, ill-tempered, solemn and grim personality is very characteristic of the North, and of Ned. Jon is a great swordsman like Ned, he is honourable like Ned and he has the Northern looks, dark hair and grey eyes. In all sorts and purposes he's a true Stark. BUT, I can't help but feel that the comparison between Rob's and Jon's looks was kind of weird:

"Jon was of an age with Robb, but they did not look alike. Jon was slender where Robb was muscular, dark where Robb was fair, graceful and quick where his half brother was strong and fast."

So slender, dark, graceful and quick. Now the graceful part is weird. Northerners are not really that graceful, let's say that's not their trademark. Of course you can say Lyanna was probably graceful, but was she really? She was basically a tomboy like Arya, she was very pretty but I don't know if "graceful" would be the first word one would use to describe her. In Westeros, which House is particularly defined by gracefulness? Well, you guessed it. Especially Rhaegar was said to be very graceful and slender ("long fingers" etc etc the whole Targ software). So yeah we have that. Also personality wise, well, Jon has a trait that was very characteristic of Rhaegar specifically, the guy knows how to create a strong impression on people. Jon befriends Tyrion on the spot, he is very influential in the Knight's watch, he became Lord Commander at such a young age, women love him etc. Rhaegar was loved by smallfolk, Cersei was completely enamoured with him, Barristan remembers him fondly still, Jorah calls him the last dragon, he haunts Jaimie's dreams, he left a big impact on people. But then again, Lyanna did too, so I guess he got it from both his parents. Also the way Rhaegar was born in grief parallels Jon's very tragic birth and the shadow that was cast on him for his whole life for being a bastard. That's also very specific.

So the "promise me Ned" line confuses me a lot. For a long time I believed that Lyanna just asked Ned to burry her in Winterfell because the first time the phrase is mentioned in the book the context is clear.

"I was with her when she died," Ned reminded the king. "She wanted to come home, to rest beside Brandon and Father." He could hear her still at times. Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses. Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the rose petals spilling from her palm, dead and black".

The main problems with this is 1) why was Lyanna afraid for a simple wish as to be buried at her home and 2) why does that line keep haunting Ned throughout AGOT? He recalls that line so many times at seemingly irrelevant situations and it's weird because Lyanna apparently got her death wish. Why would GRRM insist so much on that particular line if it was something that was already settled forever? Sansa reminds him of that, he sees that in his nightmares, then Robert himself reminds him of that line when he says the exact same words before he dies. And what did Robert want Ned to promise? Well, that he will have a specific funeral feast for him, and that he will try to protect Daenerys' life. Lol.

We don't know what this line means, but it probably refers to Jon. We'll never know for sure because we ain't getting the books 😂

#asoiaf #got #I'm on my Rhaelya bullshit again #rhaegar x lyanna #Rhaelya #rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark #jon snow #ned stark #aspa rambles

[enigmatist17]

More late night clone wings!au stuff

Apparently me having a good drink tends to make me think of them lol

------

the armor for the wings are made from the same stuff their main body armor is, though tempered to be a bit lighter for flight

- speaking of flight, most clones don't get a chance to fly until they leave Kamino, and it's discovered the best way for it to happen at first is in the hangar bay's with the grav shut off

-- it's not quite the same, but they don't trust the Jetti at first, so they make do

--- Master Di accidentally walks in on a session, and finds it quite intriguing as he watches the more experienced clones guide the shinies through basic flight instructions. Keeli nearly has a heart attack when he finds himself suddenly pulled down when telling shinies how one would glide, and the general moves his commander through the air after they share a look

Within a few weeks training in zero-g takes on a practical turn as Jetti help give weight or the right nudge to help strengthen their flying moves. They prefer to find planets, but obviously they always can't find the time (and the Jedi really don't mind helping, it's a morale booster to see their men so happy)

their wings all start off an ashy white, but when they begin to serve and fight, every clone finds their wings take on colors that match their personality and feelings. Lighter colors were found on the troopers who always smiled and did their best to make their brothers do the same, the darker colors were for the jaded who did what they could to protect their batchmates.

-- Cody is the first one to gain an intense color, his wings all but shining gold when he sees his first sunrise, and lets awed troopers touch the colored feathers, as if trying to see if the color would spread

The first Jetti to help tend to an injured trooper who can't preen himself is a padawan. The trooper is tense while (surprisingly) skilled hands ease tangled feathers back into place and shake out the dust that's gathered, and only relaxes when the padawan stops, much to their intrigue.

---> Jocasta finds an influx of curious padawan and masters alike to seem to have all found interest in birds at the same time, but puts two and two together easily enough. If she also takes a look some time to tend to the clones that guarded the Temple from time to time? Well no one needs to know

-----> it takes the clones a while to even let the Jetti tend to them, but ever so slowly it happens either by choice or if injured troopers ask for the aid. Not everyone gets the chance, but those who do are usually honored to help with such a guarded task. Plo is pretty much the only exception, Wolffe and the others having taken the Jetti and taught him what to do, and their buir is only too happy to learn.

Speaking of my Corrie's, they're restricted more than most of the other clones because Palps is a dick, and if they're not in their barracks, it's expected they keep said wings close and out of sight

--> Fox hates it, but until something happens (and no he's not in the process of killing the old bastard yet) he can't fight it. Bail and other senators help provide short moments for the Guard to stretch/fly when they can, but its not too often

----> Fox doesn't kill Palpatine this time, no he sits back when the other Commanders storm the senate building after Fox nearly loses his wing to the Sith, and all fly up and drop the man right into one of those giant thruster things(?) from the movie and make sure he's dead before celebrating

I just think they're neat, now I'm gonna go and sleep <3

#personal #star wars #the clone wars #clone wars #winged!clones au #and the wings 🥺🥰 #I love this idea sm #I hope you guys do too :)

[shepherds-of-haven]

So i convinced my friend who is probably as close to a real life blade as you can get to try your game and it was hilarious!

How would the Shepards feel about "gasp, another blade?"

Also haha other anon i get to bully blade irl :p

Okay, the funny thing is, there was another "Blade" in the original novels--like just this random minor character who looked a lot like Blade, happened to also be a Ket prodigy, and had a very similar personality type but was mildly warmer and more confident (though Blade was still superior to him in skill), and all of the characters noticed it and used it as a running joke and pretended to like him better to be irritating; and Blade silently HAAAAAATED him, like HATED him, he was the only character that Blade was openly hostile to and unprofessional with in the series (who wasn't an antagonist lol). Like he wasn't fond of Red, but he was just cold or aloof to him or a little sharp, but it wasn't really that noticeable considering how unsociable he could be with like 90% of the people he encountered on a daily basis; but with this guy, he'd openly snub him or make some snippy comment under his breath if they ever had to be in the same room. 😂 That was the original Daren (before I made game!Daren--who's a separate character who just happens to share the same name--like a suck-up teacher's pet lol), so this scenario has actually happened in the books! In the game, if another "Blade" lookalike showed up:

Blade: *stubbornly refuses to see or understand any resemblance* 😒 *mildly insulted by the comparison*

Trouble: "oh God, there are two of them? fucking yuck 🙄"

Tallys: *would use the opportunity to ask low-stakes Blade (who she doesn't care about) questions she would never dare ask the real Blade LMAO... like what is Ket dirty talk like*

Shery: *kind of intimidated by knock-off Blade, also feels sorry for real Blade because she wouldn't feel very nice being compared to someone similar to her, so she'll act a little protective and biased, like, I don't think he's anything like our Commander!! 😤 while Blade is in earshot, basically trying to support him in her own way and openly picking sides when it's not really a situation where you'd have to take them 😂*

Riel: *has already determined second Blade is inferior to the original and therefore beneath his notice, therefore completely ignores him and his existence*

Chase: "lmao so what, do they just pop you guys out of a factory somewhere? *to Blade, who loathes him* are the Ket allergic to originality or something, lmao??" *finds the scenario hilarious and won't cease ribbing Blade about it every chance he gets, just clowning on them both*

Red: *snickers when he realizes it* *then quickly pretends he doesn't see the resemblance and has no idea what anyone is talking about, so Blade doesn't have a reason to get even madder at him*

It's like his equivalent of innocuous whistling and looking away to have plausible deniability

Ayla: "uh-uh, no way. stay away from me. I can only take one of him, I don't have any patience or capacity to deal with a second one" *actively is repulsed by/rudely avoids the knock-off Blade* It's kind of a mix of genuine "I don't have time for that" but also a little bit of aloof (?) protective bias, like "I'm full-up on friends thanks, not looking for any more!! you're not Blade so get out of my face and stop wasting my time!!"

Briony: "omg! 😮 are you guys related?? no?? but... you're so alike..." *spends time with knock-off Blade because she's morbidly fascinated by the similarities... wonders if that means there are knock-off versions of all of them out there somewhere... probably ends up becoming his friend and annoying Blade with comments like 'he's actually really nice, Blade, I think you'd come to like him if you just gave him a chance, you have so much in common!'*

Lavinet: *mildly interested, mildly pitying (doesn't know what it's like to be imitable 💅🏼), maybe tries to give knock off Blade advice on how to differentiate himself and be more interesting LOL like the unasked-for "you might try brooding a little less, darling, the people around here are very used to that and would like something a little fresher"*

Halek: *genuinely does not see the resemblance* what, just because he has dark hair? do you think all Hunters are the same then? -_- *makes it a whole thing*

#Shepherds of Haven #Blade #Blade Bronwyn #hypothetical scenario #knock off #original novels #novels #novel #original novel #silly #for some reason Halek and Blade always have each other's backs even though they don't interact that much lol

[penumbramewtwos]

To spread the positivity (and I think you are the only amazing person that has reblogged anything I have ever posted), what are 5 things that make Okita happy?

Thanks for the ask and positivity!:3 I'll pass on this message to the 'Two in question! :> … Okita will now answer, and for today, she is Splootkita. Splotkita wishes to grant you 1 extra answer, making it '6' in total; as this is how many paw digits she has in total :3 (You may count them if you wish... Here they are, go ahead :3)

Alright 5, I mean 6 things that make me happy! Hmm…

Number 1: Seeing an invention of mine come to life. Even if it doesn't work completely, there's just sheer satisfaction that overwhelms me, knowing that THIS has come from no more than neurons firing from within my brain, now brought to life from my very paws!

Number 2: Quiet moments to myself to rest and recuperate. Maybe listen to music, or play some video games on my homemade consoles to distract my mind from straying into bad memories…

Number 3: Cuddles from family and/or close friends: I might not seem like the type on the outset… But… That's only to pokemon/humans I don't know! It takes a lot for me to trust someone as a friend, but when I do, I tend to be physically affectionate with gifts or cuddles.

Number 4: Finally getting a decent sleep: I know this sounds weird of me to say, but, I rarely get any sleep at all… when I finally get a decent sleep without all of the nightmarish memories. Heck, It's the best thing that ever happens to me! Even though I'm told I roll around a lot. Once I ended up several meters away from where I fell asleep, hah, good times! Just as an explanation: For me to be able to get a decent sleep I have to have my temples and head caressed until I at least get to the first R.E.M Cycle… I am unsure as to why this happens, and I cannot replicate this effect with machines… Much to my dissatisfaction…

Number 5: Spending time with my Family and Friends… Especially as of late, I love hanging out with my Mewtwo Mother, Unova. We didn't meet until later in life…. You might know her as Newtwo... But she teaches me how to hunt like a pokemon. She's taught me so much lately! Not only can I save a lot of pokedollars (not that I really need them *snort laugh*) But I can avoid the risk of being caught by humans. This is especially helpful, as I use to um… commandeer sustenance from the city food markets…

And lastly, Number 6: You, friendly Pokemon and humans alike. :3

Sorry this took a while ^^ and tysm for the ask again! I still got 2 more drawn answers to go! :D I'm looking forward to them!

#Mewtwo #Newtwo #Pokemon #mewtwo oc #beginner artist #answered ask #psychic-nature #pokemon art #Okita #please count her digits #she's waiting #her lower paws don't count #lamo #art progression

[okjuuzu]

@fromcydonia since you had a lot to say in my last post i will clarify the propaganda for you.

the initial report was retracted by the journalist who broke the news, she said she heard from one of the soldiers on scene but when pressed for evidence he back tracked and now on her twitter she is saying she never said anything. on top of that again, no primary source, the news sites and the white house also backtracked on the story because they were pressed for evidences and even israel denied the claim from the beginning yet they continue to run with the lie because it suits the narrative.

there is none, no reports of rape from israel what-so-ever. but they still ran with the narrative.

hamas carried guns and small grenade launchers as you could see from the videos the IDF released. these weapons are not enough to incinerate people. these injuries can be sustained by shelling, which what the IDF used. and you can also see hamas operative incinerated as well. 2 witnesses came out and said that the IDF was killing everyone hamas and civilians alike in desperation because hamas was kicking their asses. one of them said that hamas tied her and her partners hands but it was the IDF who killed her partner. also burning concreate structures does not collapse them which was the case in, tank shelling and air strikes do.

here's the tweet, also he backtracked and said he reported incorrectly because he the IDF doesn't strick hospitals which is a lie the IDF targeted like 10 hospitals in the past:

yes, israel and the us has an interest in weaking the region and helped isis, there was a story in which an major isis commander in libya was exposed to be an israeli agent and in another story isis apologized to israel for misfiring at them. state-sanctioned terrorism is a big rabbit hole people need to look into more.

for one albert einstien was a jew who called zionists "violent" and the american organization "jews for peace" protest for palestine and are antizionists so i am not speaking for jews and re-iterating what they say.

the USA government is trying to criminalize people protesting for palestine and a lot of right wing media is calling pro-palestine rallies pro hamas. just because you haven't heard it doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

two main reasons they don't have shelters, first building a shelters for 2 million people in a small area is much much more. also, started building the tunnels in the 80s, before the blockade but now they could build shelters even with all the money in the world because they don't have enough concrete, and israel wont allow its passage. also the UN school are considered a safe bomb shelter protected by international law but israel still bombed them. i really wish there were shelters for people but they wouldn't need them if israel were not war criminals.

this is one of the fake rally picture

staged pictures with fake blood:

the israeli president was trying to push this narrative in and interveiw last week so again just because you haven't heard it doesn't mean it didn't happen

its my fault yeah they said its 1400 but in a haaretz article where they showed the age distribution of the victims they official count is around 600 and the majority is IDF casualties.

the point is not that its a bad graphics, the point is that that is not intelligence by definition. showing a 3D map isn't proof of anything.

its actually not stupid a lot of people have been pointing it out since day one and now the israeli officials and netanyahu are trying to pin it on each other.

#i tried to number the points but it was weird but its point by point from your reply #i know your just a hateful bot and employee of the government but i hope this helps :))

[blueberry-lavender]

Hi! A bit late, but welcome to posting on Tumblr! I hope you're having fun and doing well ;)

I saw you're taking requests for Xander? I was wondering if you could write some fluff with him,,, maybe his SO comforting him after getting crowned as king. Y'know, stuff like him doubting if he could do better than his father, and worried about Nohr's future in general. And SO being there for him to give him some love,,, he deserves it!! He is a good man and he deserves to be reminded often.

One-shot or hc's, whatever works best for you! Female or gender neutral reader is okay too.

Have a lovely day/night and thank you ;>

Crowned Comfort - Part I

A/N: Ah! This is so cute! I'm going to write this as a one-shot, and the reader is neutral. Thank you for being my first request Anon! I simp for Xander so hard oml. This was so long! I'll get Part II out before Xmas.

---

This was the night of the coronation. Everyone was lively, excited to celebrate the new King of Nohr. Everyone was invited, and oh my lord that is a lot of people. Not everyone came, just reading it in the paper was enough for them. Hoshidan royalty, Hinoka and Sakura, came too. They were enjoying themselves, talking to knights, retainers, and royalty alike. The room was fun, and the people radiated that energy (especially Elise, she was off the walls.) Everyone was having fun.

Everyone except Xander.

He was a wreck. Every time he talked to someone he was terrified of making a mistake. He was all over the room. Hosting, conversing, laughing, commanding, everything. He was sitting in his chair (almost a throne, much more adorned than the others), and he showed many signs of nervousness. His hands trembled in his lap, his heartbeat pounded in his head, he wasn't really breathing, and his brain had stopped working like it used to. Or it was going a million miles per hour. No in-between.

While he was standing looking at the ballroom being cleared from it's tables to get ready for the dancing, he felt a soft tap on his shoulder.

"Hmm?" he hummed as he turned his head.

"Xander?" Y/n asked softly with a concerned look on their face.

"Oh, Y/n, darling you startled me. Do you need something?"

"Yes, actually. I need you to come with me."

"Dear, I'm sorry but I'm busy at the momen-"

"No you're not." Y/n tugged his arm and rolled their eyes.

"But-"

"No."

Y/n glared at him with a look he knew he would get in trouble with if he kept arguing. There weren't many people in the room, only the work staff. The guests were all in the front of the castle watching a jester's performance with fire. An easy slip-away was very possible with these conditions.

"What did you need?" Xander asked with the most unaware concern ever.

"You! You can't expect to run a whole night with no break in between can you? Let's keep walking." Y/n almost scolded him.

"Y/n." Xander held onto their upper arm, "I appreciate the sentiment, but I must get back. People need me to oversee."

"Well," Y/n took his hand, "Good thing I told Leo exactly what to do while you're away." They smiled.

Staring at each other, Xander had a break of a smirk on his face.

"What did you need to speak with me about so badly then?" He spoke calm and low.

Without responding, Y/n wrapped around him. A little shocked, he nuzzled his face in their neck.

Then he realized.

With him slowly tearing up, Y/n reached up and started messing with his hair. He almost latched onto her, like this is all he needed in life at the moment.

"It's okay." Y/n whispered to him. "You're doing amazing. I'm so proud of you."

"I don't think Father would be." He choked out between his gasps for air.

Even though Garon was insane in his last bit of life, that wasn't really him. Xander still valued him as his father, not as a traitor. Of course, the trauma of it all was still relatively new, so Xander hadn't really come to terms with any of it yet. Good thing Y/n is there.

"Oh my goodness," Y/n whispered to herself. "He is so proud of you. And so is Queen Katerina. I know they are so happy for and with you."

"You can't speak for the dead." Xander sounded almost upset over that fact.

"True. And neither can you, so stop saying they don't like what you're doing. You're doing your best. And most of all, I'm proud of you."

Still in that hug, Xander hugged tighter. Y/n returned the favor.

"I love you, Xander, you know that?" Y/n backed away to look at his eyes when she said it.

"I love you too, Y/n." Tears still in his eyes, he kissed her to feel a little better.

After breaking, Y/n grabbed onto his arms with hers.

"Do you want to talk about this later, too? I think the ballroom's ready." Y/n brought them both back to reality.

"Of course. On one condition." Xander perked up, smiling.

"Oh? And what would that be?" Y/n laughed through their words.

"If you dance with me for the night."

Laughing, Y/n nodded their head. And off they went their separate ways, to go and prepare to have a lovely night.

---

Ah! I can't wait to write part two! Have a good day/night/evening!

#i love this so much #xander fire emblem #fire emblem #xander #x reader #x y/n #fluff #xander x reader

[meritatem]

Before coming back to the past, Damian had more than enough time to dissect every aspect of his existence and come to terms with the fact that, for such a short life like his, he was full of regrets.

One of those countless regrets was that he never made enough time for Colin. It always seemed like he had something else going on: Damian dying, his mother's Leviathan, the Joker, Grayson dying, trying to repent from the Year of Blood, Robin gang wars, his father losing his memory, the Court of Owls, getting into trouble off-world with Jon, Grayson losing his memory, the Arkham Knight, his terrible attempt at leading the Teen Titans, dark multiverse nonsense, Leviathan again, even fucking Timothy Drake coming from the future to kill Jon, of all of people. There was always something happening... it was all so outlandish to the point of being cartoonish.

And Damian regretted not being a better, constant friend for Colin, because despite all the absurdity of his life, he made time for Jon, even if he did it because he was trying to fool himself and pretend their time together was just to keep Jon under surveillance.

He also regretted never introducing those two to one another. 

Talia handcrafted, so to speak, an extraordinary child by forcing all the training she could from the League of Assassins, Bruce's Batman's training and her own personal interests. She attempted to rush the creation of a perfect warrior, a weapon to tame the world with, a little Alexander... but she also made a child that was insecure, sensitive and had zero social skills. Had Damian stayed in the League and grow up there until adulthood, he'd had lose his soft edges and everything compassionate inside him, following the same path his mother went under the al Ghul madness, but he saw his father's world and for the first time in his life he had the opportunity to choose, and his choice was to stay in that world, despite how unfitted he was for it.

Damian understood better now the flaws of his character, accepting that he kept Colin and Jon apart because deep down he was afraid of being left behind, because he knew those two would become instant friends; they were so alike: full of childhood wonder, pure-hearted and hopeful, while Damian was just Damian: conceited, self-centered and callous. They'd like each other better than they liked Damian and in the end they would've ditched him for good.

It should've been clear for him that he had nothing to worry about, because even if Damian was an absolute terror, Colin and Jon genuinely appreciated the friendship they shared with him, even when he didn't deserved such loyalty, especially when it came to Jon.

The only thing Damian could do now was to not repeat the same mistakes and just carry on. That's why as soon as him and Colin were at a safe distance from the police after waiting for them to come, hidden and seemingly alone, he raised a commanding hand and stopped Colin in the middle of the sentence he was saying.

“I don't have a lot of time,” he started. “I must keep patrolling, but you seem like you could be a--“ and he stopped himself for a second, because calling Colin something like useful acquaintance didn't sound all that amicable. “Good associate,” close enough. “I'm open to work together sometimes if you are interested.”

One thing Damian will always give to Colin is that despite his lack of training, he was really good at keeping a poker face. “Are you with Batman and Robin?”

Damian thought he was asking because he just wanted confirmation, because if the belt and the mask weren't enough of a dead giveaway, having a kid fight crime was something very up to Batman's alley. Instead of verbally answering, he took one batarang out and making use of the empty street, he proceeded to swiftly throw it away in such manner that it came back right into his hand.

He offered the batarang to Colin expecting at least some enthusiasm from his part, but what Damian got instead was a look of fondness directed at it, like it was something valuable.

“You can keep it if you want.”

And just like that, Damian finally got a real glance of his old friend. “Woah, really?”

“I have more than I need. But remember, is not a toy, you need to be careful, especially with its storage.” Brass knuckles were one thing, but surely the nuns would be a little more alarmed with sharp objects.

“I'm not a kid, you know?” and he went back into is Abuse persona. “If you're working with them, do you know where is Batman? People on the streets are talking, they're not saying nice things.”

“He's fine, he's just preoccupied with something very important but he'll be back soon.” Even if it wasn't so prominent, Damian could see the way Colin relaxed at his words.

“I knew he was fine, he's Batman,” he said it like it was something he debated against Damian before. “But some people think he's not coming back and things are getting ugly and that's saying a lot for Gotham.”

“That's why we are here, to remember the vermin that Batman isn't the only one keeping the city safe.”

“You're right,” and he hit his right fist against his other palm, making Damian almost smile. “I accept your offer, you can call me if you need help.”

“I'll look for you when I'm able. Keep helping if you can but don't take unnecessary risks, remember, is best to run and fight another day than stay and die. Dead heroes don't help anyone.”

Colin just started to chuckle and even if Damian saw his huge hand coming to him with more than enough time to react, he resisted his first instinct and just stood there, letting Colin pat his head like Abuse wasn't a child himself. Damian, of course, will remember such offense.

“Don't worry, No One, I can look out for myself.”

“I'm in a generous mood, so I'll let you keep your hand.”

That just made Colin laugh some more and even if it wasn't his normal, natural laugh, Damian had missed hearing that one just the same.

When he came back from his patrol, Damian was exhausted, but not physically.

Alfred let him go easily given how late it was - or early, depending on how one looked at it - and after taking a shower, Damian went directly to his bed, letting himself heavily fall without any of his usual poise and not bothering with going under the covers, just like he used to do in his first days at the mansion.

Meeting Colin again was an eye-opener.

All this time he had been devising his plans to work around the premise of him becoming Robin, even when he had doubts about it he quickly took this as the default path for him.

Damian lost sight. His knowledge about things to come had made him complacent, stagnant, happy to be comforted by the security that Robin will give him in this family full of well-known strangers. For someone trying to change the horrors of his future, he was comfortable letting events of the past play the same when he should be out there, braving the sands of time by destroying everything so he could just remade it.

He knew what he really had to do, because being Robin wasn't the only option he considered at the beginning, just the one that was reassuring.

Damian had to force himself to sleep because it was important for his efficiency, but he didn't felt any rest when he woke up hours later after having only nightmares, despite this, he soon wished to get back to those nightmares when he saw Dick at the breakfast nook. His unusual presence there and the events from the last night were enough for Damian to know he was being ambushed again; fine, this will just make things easier for him to put an end to this ridiculous situation and move on to more important things.

“Good morning, Master Damian,” said Alfred, appearing out of nowhere in what it must be his best impression of Batman. “Breakfast is served.”

“Thank you, Pennyworth.” And he made sure to give Alfred an accusatory look before taking the empty seat were his food was waiting, coincidentally being just the one in front of Dick. “Grayson.”

“Hi, Damian.” He said almost meekly.

He proceeded to ignore Dick completely, concentrating instead on taking the napkin that was wrapped around his cutlery and placing it on his lap, which was a silly and unnecessary ritual, but displaying good table etiquette even if it was in an informal setting like a breakfast for two at home, was one of the easiest ways to please Alfred, so Damian didn't mind putting in the little extra effort.

He counted almost five minutes of uncomfortable silence before Dick finally broke.

“Look, I'm sorry,” he said with a sigh. “I wasn't in a good place yesterday, there's a lot of things going on and I know it's not an excuse, I should've handle things better, you did nothing wrong, kiddo.”

“I know that.”

And with all the theatrics he was blaming on Pennyworth, Damian took the teacup that was to his right with calculated movements to look graceful and natural, taking a sip, avoiding a wince at Alfred's Earl Gray and setting the cup back down, placing his elbows on the table and interlocking the fingers of his hands, like he was pretending to be in a business meeting.

“I want to make one thing clear, so you and Drake can stop arguing like children... I don't want to be Robin.”

That simple and serendipitous encounter with Colin set in motion the gears that led him to question if he really was doing the best he could in the situation he was. The answer was, plainly, no. Damian could do even more if he sacrificed one of the last things he had left, something that was even laughably simple when he considered that at that point it hadn't even been granted to him yet. Thus, even before he got back to the mansion Damian already made up his mind and from then on, all he had been doing was to prepare to make it official; it was true that when it came to emotions he was a walking disaster, but at least now he had enough emotional intelligence to control himself, even if his childlike brain heavily affected by his upbringing in the League wasn't being as cooperative as he would like it.

One step at a time... even if those steps were over burning coals and Damian had no shoes.

“I don't need to dress like a clown and go around calling myself avian names to be effective.”

“Damian,” and it sounded so soft that Damian wanted to kick Dick's shin under the table. “It's not about that, the identities we take can be used as symbols, statements, ideas,” he had that look in his eyes that was unreasonably inspiring and also admonitory. “That's important, it's why Bruce created Batman and why he chose to work the way he did. And it's about us too, what we want to represent, what we want to honor, who we want to be. Is more than a costume and a name.”

God, Damian hated Dick so much. He was always so good at making things more difficult for him and at the same contradictory time, easier too, whether it was the embrace of death or think of himself as a member of a family.

“I agree,” and he was so proud of how detached he sounded. “That's why I don't want to partake in any of those things. Pennyworth said I have freedom here, a luxury I was negated to in the League and if that's true, you won't force this on me.”

He knew that was a low blow, but after all “fight to win, not to be fair” was something that the League indeed taught him.

Despite being out of his field of vision, Damian knew that Alfred surely schooled his expression, not openly showing what he thought of his words but Dick on the other didn't bother to hide the pained look that flashed across his face.

“He's right, we're not like that. You have options and you are free to make choices, I'm sorry if I made you feel like you didn't.”

Damian hated himself so much too, but the good thing about it was that ultimately this will be a meaningless refusal for Grayson, because Damian was also meaningless to him.

“Now that we settled this,” he took the napkin from his lap and put it on the table. “I'll skip the rest of the breakfast, I'm afraid the tea made me lost appetite.” 

Pennyworth, of course, took the bait and played along. “Apologies, sir, it seems I keep forgetting your palate is not that educated yet.”

“I'm sure you'll work to correct it. Good luck with that, Pennyworth.”

Without adding anything more, Damian left the room at a steady pace, missing the way Alfred and Dick shared a look before Dick inelegantly slammed his forehead into the table, causing the dishes and glasses in the surface to wobble slightly.

Although the easiest option would be to let Grayson talk to Drake and tell him he still had his job, Damian admitted that Dick had a point about the whole statement thing. It was for that reason that he spent the rest of the day on the lookout, waiting for Tim to come back, even though there was a chance he might not return that day, given the nature of his argument with Grayson.

Of course, following Damian's theory that the universe liked to be against him, Drake returned late in the afternoon. Tim was at least consistent in his ways because he walked right through the front door, where Damian had decided to wait for him which he was grateful for, because after the day he had, the last thing he wanted was to look for Drake on the hallways of the Manor or worse, having to talk to him in the Batcave. No, for this he needed neutral ground.

When Tim saw him, his body language changed completely, even though he closed himself off and was noticeably more guarded, Damian could still make out the anger that lurked beneath his impassive exterior. Hah, maybe in the future he could ask Drake to give him some tips about it.

“Drake,” he started in what he hoped was his best non-confrontational tone. “I spoke with Grayson and I'm telling you what I told him, I'm not going to be Robin, I'm not interested.”

Damian said that sentence as hastily as he could, not wanting to make Tim angrier. However, his reaction was not what Damian expected; he stopped walking and for a few moments he stood there in the middle of the room, looking at Damian as if he were not worthy of being in his presence.

He crossed his arms, supporting the weight of his body on his left foot and his look of contempt changed for a sardonic one. “Oh, you're not?” he asked mockingly. “You tried to kill me so you could be Robin, and now you don't want to? Give me a break.”

“I already apologized for that, I'm not doing it again, I think I explained myself well.”

“Like I care about your apologies, but is good that you don't want to be Robin,” and his smile became spiteful. “Because I wasn't going to let you anyway. A psychopath like you will only taint the name.”

He had to admit those words took him off guard, but it was clear that Tim was more upset than Damian initially assumed. But good on Drake, he still had it even so far back.

“Glad we came to an agreement, have a good night.” And Damian turned around, ready to leave.

This is what Damian wanted: simple, clinical, fast. So, of course, it wasn't what Tim wanted.

“I guess you only want the mantle if you can take it by force. Or maybe you just miss having blood in your hands.” Damian took the deep breath he couldn't when he announced to Grayson of his decision. “But it's not that, right? You wanted Bruce to make you Robin.” Tim humorlessly laughed. “You should take advantage and accept Dick's offer, because Bruce would've never chosen you.”

Damian was doing so well, so, so well at controlling his emotions even in the face of another one of those heartbreaking sacrifices; he was even proud of himself, at how much he had learn over the years. All his reflections, his conclusions, his remorse and wishful thinking... all of that and Damian was still that same kid that came to Gotham with only a sword and anger issues.

“I know that!” he screamed, turning around and trying with all his might to not throw himself at Tim. “You can keep your stupid costume and your insipid bird name! I don't care! Just do your damn work, Drake, so when my father comes back he will find this wretched household standing!”

Until that moment Tim had been preparing for a fight because it was what he was looking for. Damian might have fooled Alfred and even Dick with the act he was putting on, but Tim knew he couldn't be trusted, he knew the type of person he really was and he was not going to fall for the game he was playing. Yeah, he had been cruel but he did it solely for the purpose of seeing how far Damian was willing to take this “humble assassin” act he was putting on, how much he could tolerate before he finally showed his true colors... and yet, in just an instant, with just one sentence, Tim felt all the anger leaving him, as if someone abruptly thrown him into the waters of a frozen lake.

And now he felt more empty than mad. “Bruce is dead.” He said, trying to ignore how heavy and disgusting those words felt in his mouth.

“Tt! As if!” And Damian literary bit his tongue, so the pain and the taste of blood could give him some clarity in his ire. “That cannot stop people like us. Whether we crawl from our own graves or some fool finds a way to bring us back, death is inconsequential.” And he took a couple of calculated steps towards Tim, just enough to have him at the perfect range for an attack, because that was also a message. “Until my father comes back, you will do your job and keep Batman alive, because if you fail in protecting Grayson, I will destroy. Everything. You. Are.”

Damian did exactly what he told Colin to do, so he just ran away because he didn't want anyone to see him like this.

And when he finally reached his room, his only sanctuary in this tomb he had to call home, he slammed the door behind him and thumped his back against it, dropping to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut and hugging his legs as he trembled, trying to control the urge he had to scream, to shatter the few things that were in his bedroom; to light the fireplace and make the fire consume everything just like how Damian felt that anger burning his insides... but it wasn't just anger, because hidden deep beneath it all were the true emotions that Damian couldn't allow himself to express freely, that made his throat tighten and his eyes sting with unshed tears, so he released his legs and crossed them on the floor as he began to rock back and forth while rubbing his arms up and down with his hands, in a futile attempt to soothe himself.

Hush, hush, little Robin, Richard's voice echoed somewhere in his mind.

But Damian wasn't Robin, he will never be and despite his doubts about the role through the years, Robin was still the best thing he had ever done and now it was just another something that would only live in his memories.

It was for the best, because Robin was meant to be in the light... and Damian will always belong in the shadows.

⪻Chapter 4

Chapter 6⪼

#f.r.w. #chap5

[dafuq-i-did-not-sign-up-for-this]

My two cents on the Thetis is Derriere reincarnated theory

Written after chapter 79

Y'all, I hear you. I get where you're coming from. I want my girl back too.

But do you really think she would take a single order from Meliodas ever again in her newly aquired life?

When Mael uses the spell on her and Oslo, he states they will reborn with all their memories intact, so they may have the chance to enact their revenge on him, should they choose to.

As if former Ten Commandments Derriere would willingly put herself under the traitor that caused two Holy Wars and killed a shit ton of her comrades, two of them very close ones when he first left the Demon Clan. Now maybe she just does it for Elizabeth and doesn't give or take two shits from Meliodas, but frankly, I doubt it. It would be low-key hilarious, but no.

And if she kept her memories, why would she change her name?

Then the way she's introduced, with her chuckling and clearly knowing what's going on over in the fight when Elizabeth expresses her worry? I don't think we've seen Derriere laugh audibly once in the series (correct me please). That argument's a bit farfetched, I know.

It's not a secret that Nakaba has a terrific case of same face syndrome. Nasiens, Guinevere, and Gawain are all a blueprint of Diane's design. Now maybe there's a connection between Nasiens and them, maybe there's a reason they look so much alike and we just don't know it yet. And if it's only a plot device for later (I've had this idea for a while that Nasiens could pretend to be either of them at some point to fool Arthur and his knights). But tbh I think it's just same face syndrome.

It would kinda fuck if Thetis was Derriere, if only because she's one of the few entirely new characters with no connection to the prequel so far, and it feels kinda strange. But I think there are way better ways to pull her off, so I hope she isn't. I really doubt it's her.

Then again Guinevere is twelve and Jericho in love with Lancelot so I wouldn't put it beyond him lol.

#four knights of the apocalypse #nnt derriere #derriere is thetis? #4kota thetis #4kota theory #Nakaba violently swings between great writing and character design and that trash can full of drafts I haven't emptied since I was thirteen

[notoriousroar]

Dual Headcanon: Universes' stress effects -- I've stated before OOC how much Nefariousverse and Ironverse are alike yet different, and as I'm drawing a fake screenshot I was beginning to think about how insanely different they are.

They've both been in their universes for roughly the same time, even though Iron Cat had been caught up in the blip. About ten years or so. And even though both have similar origins; hopped to a universe hoping to find some place to belong, got caught up in a fight that led them to meet the one person that made them want to stay in that universe, lost their ability to travel the multiverse either willingly(Ironverse) or unwillingly(Nefariousverse), even the person that changed their lives having one of the brightest minds- if not the brightest mind- in their universe.

But despite their similarities, even down to some of the stressors they experienced, the way the stress they experience manifests itself, if manifested at all, is very different.

Iron Cat looks exhausted, and she is. Even though she sleeps, and is kept on a regular schedule thanks to Recovery, her eyes still clearly show her exhaustion. She looks older than she is, her fur duller in shine, and she's not as enthusiastic about things. After the war to protect the universe from being snapped out of existence, Iron Cat has just been living life day to day with no real purpose anymore.

On the flipside, Notorious is genuinely exhausted too, but her eyes don't show it nearly to the degree that Iron Cat's do, and she looks her age. Her fur is shiny, and she looks happier. She has a purpose, living life always looking to the future, always hopeful that one day they'd be successful.

If Iron Cat and Notorious ever met canonically, which I'm planning at some point they do because it'd be fun as hell, it'd be really interesting to see Notorious' universe's reaction to what could have been had their Flame not been insulted so terribly and pushed down the path of villainy. Perhaps in the fight Iron Cat would have with Notorious and the forces under her command, she'd be wounded and have to have that arc reactor finally implanted in her chest.

#{ So say what ya want it’s your memorial [Headcanons] } #I love these two verses so fucking much #hhhh they have my braincell and are playing tug of war with it and I'm not even complaining #and just. fusing my fixations is par for the course for me #first it was Ironverse picking a fight with Eggman and THAT'S how she got wounded and got the arc reactor #now it's Ironverse going ANYWHERE tech centered and getting wounded there #there's so many ways it's making my brain go brrrrr I love itttt