#yeah it's not fair cassandra has had the lot of getting a child for her only cleric but like

[radiocrypt-id]

I got- I can't!

Imagine being 15, you've grown up your whole life with this one belief in this one God and you were told you were Chosen by Him, for Him. And you're 15. You believe so fully in the spirit of your religion, not necessarily the word, that you want to go to a non-religious school to try and help other kids maybe find your God because you genuinely believe that could be helpful to some of them, because it's all you know, and it's helped other strangers (human trafficking victims she helped in the black pit before) so why not other kids her age? You're 15 and all you can think about is helping others. And you start thinking about your religion, and reading books, and asking questions and you come to the conclusion that maybe your God and His Father aren't actually all that great. Maybe the church you're in has done some really bad things that you can't possibly make up for. Maybe that church is still doing bad things. And then you find out your family is actually in a cult for that God, not just part of the normal church, and you suddenly have to undo all the cult shit in your brain you were raised with, while that cult stuff you know about is actually useful to your friends, like having that knowledge is helpful for them! You're 15 and you stop going home. You have no real adult supervision or carer, just your other 15 year old friends.

Imagine you're 16, you're gay and figuring that out on top of navigating your first full romantic relationship and being the sole creator and cleric to a new God that you honestly find to be very two dimensional and empty. You're on a quest to find an evil being and stop them. You nearly die. Your friends nearly die. You're 16. You're 16 and feel something calling out to you, you know it's divine because you've felt that sort of pull before, but you've never felt one like this. You find memories and hints and pieces and you figure out that the evil being you have to stop, isn't evil, she's just hurting. She's hurt and She's a God. She's your God, and she's so happy to see you, and she has so many ideas, and so many hopes.

You're 17. You've spent your rest time (summer vacation) tearing across the world chasing down and defeating another evil thing that you and your friends accidentally released in the first place. Your God is with you, you have no time for Her. No time for anything but trying to survive and stay sane. You know She's disappointed in you, but you're one person -ONE PERSON- and you're 17. You missed your birthday. again. You've saved the world; again. You're so fucking tired -like always. You're Chosen, and alone, and have no idea what to do with your life, let alone your God. You aren't very good at school, but you go to every class. You're drowning as you try to rewrite your understanding of the world from what you grew up with, having no idea how to do anything without a book and godly hand to guide you. You only ever followed before, your new God is demanding you Lead. You don't know how. You're only 17. You see your horrible, abusive parents spitting abuse and racist rhetoric at your baby brother, who you haven't seen in two years, on the front steps to your school and for the first time ever you are filled with righteous fury. Your God answers your call, not knowing what you need but so eager to help, eager for your attention, she starts talking to you but you're busy -why can't she understand that you're fucking busy? trying to not die, trying to be safe, trying to keep your friends alive, trying to navigate a world that hates you, you're 17 and you're busy goddammit just wait!- and she snaps back at you and flees. The next time you see Her, maybe an hour later, She's got a creature with Her that nearly destroyed you and your friends last year sitting in her lap, so smug to see you again.

You're 17- no, 16- no, 15 years old and you're expected to build and carry the world on your shoulders, Chosen from birth, raised a lamb to follow a Shepard, not to be followed behind. You have no one and nothing and everyone expects everything and you can't back up, you can't pause because if you do someone dies and doesn't come back. You have to be a hero, a chosen, a saint. The steps behind you crumble to dust with each step you take forward and the new one is already cracking under your weight. There are only wrong choices. There's no hand reaching for you. God, you were taught, will save and guide you. God knows best. Why is your God looking to you, a mortal human, to be saved, raised and guided? You're a child.

You're just a child.

You just want to go home, wherever that is. You thought it was your God, but She's not exactly helping you out either, is She? She's just disappointed. Like everyone else. Like you.

You're 17. You think it would have been better to never do any of this. It would have been easier to stay, blind and naive. Sometimes you think you should have stayed in heaven. Sometimes you think about the God you killed by not being good enough for it. Sometimes you lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling and pretend you don't exist for awhile. Sometimes you work your body so hard you forget it's there and your mind shuts up and you exist without being you. Sometimes you wish you never asked any questions or read any books. You're 17, but sometimes you wish you were 15, with no idea yet.

You're 17. You wish you were good enough.

#dimension 20 #kristen applebees #fantasy high junior year #fhjy #d20 fhjy #fhjy spoilers #dimension 20 fhjy #dimension 20 fantasy high #d20 fantasy high #dimension 20 spoilers #words #can you tell my religious trauma is popping off? #I have big feelings about kristen #she's just a kid man leave her alone #it's not fair for a god to expect a child to be able to perform what many adults do over many years in just the span of a few months #yeah it's not fair cassandra has had the lot of getting a child for her only cleric but like #she reached out to and accepted kristen! she the God here! it's like when a grown adult expects a toddler to know to not run into a road #without being taught. that's a baby #she's gonna run into the road many times until someone takes her hand and kindly teaches her to not #kristen litterally needs some kinda reliable help. she knows there's something wrong and that she's fucking it up she just literally doesn' #know how to fix it! someone help her!!! #fantasy high

[crossdressingdeath]

Alaris Lavellan, 5, 17, 22, 23, 33, 42, 44?

Ooh, excellent, more! Questions from this ask game, feel free to send more.

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets? Notebook and pencil for notes on Interesting Things, money, a couple knives, a small vial of poison (hey, you never know), an antidote to said vial of poison (you never know), lyrium potions, health potions, some elfroot, a map of the area when possible... Are Alaris's pockets secretly Fade pockets so he can fit all this stuff? He'll never tell.

17. What was your character’s favorite toy as a child? A little wooden halla his mother carved for him when he was a baby. He brought the thing with him everywhere, it's honestly a miracle he didn't lose it earlier than he did.

22. What does your character like in other people? Confidence, intelligence, strength, and a somewhat sarcastic sense of humour. Also he does like a sense of authority, provided it's not being misused. He's also a big fan of people with a firm belief in mage and elf rights and religious freedom, which... did cause some issues with the companions.

23. What does your character dislike in other people? Chantry leanings. Note that that's not necessarily the same as Andrastian leanings; Alaris still doesn't like Andrastians much, but he tolerates ones like Varric who don't go all in on the "mages are evil, elves are further from the Maker, the Dalish are savages" shit a lot better than the real Chantry faithful like Cassandra and Cullen. He also has a strong hatred of people who abuse their authority and especially Templars. Also if you so much as suggest that mages deserve to be locked up or elves should be in alienages... well, you're going to have to do a lot of work to make him so much as not hate you after that!

33. In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve? It depends on the type of criticism to some extent; any criticism that suggests he should be more Andrastian or less Dalish or less of a mage or more obedient to the Chantry is going to get fury. But in terms of fair criticism he tends towards self-deprecation, especially if it's a criticism he already agrees with. He's fully prepared to improve, but especially as his time with the Inquisition drags on he becomes more and more likely to respond with "Yeah, I really suck, huh", even if only in a "joking" way.

42. Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them? I mean there's Anders, but he's not quite old enough to really be a proper parental figure. Sort of a weird hybrid father/older brother figure. But there's also Keeper Deshanna; Alaris wasn't actually born into Clan Lavellan (he took the name just in case anyone recognized the name of his birth clan from. certain incidents), but Keeper Deshanna took him in as her First without hesitation—even if that was largely because Clan Lavellan was in desperate need of more mages—and treated him like her own son from day one. He doesn't think he'll ever be able to repay her for that, but it's okay because she insists he doesn't owe her anything. Essentially he was not surprised to learn she'd sent word to the Inquisition requesting his return, even if he was worried about the consequences drawing the Chantry's attention like that would be. Also, fun fact: Alaris didn't give anyone his full name until Keeper Deshanna sent word and revealed his connection to her clan. He would've refused point-blank to give a clan name the entire time he was with the Inquisition if she hadn't claimed him.

44. How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it? He can say it very easily without meaning it. He's an excellent liar. It's... a lot harder for him to say it and mean it. Fake emotions are a lot easier to work with than real emotions, after all! Although it's very difficult for him to say "I love you" without meaning it if he does have real feelings for the person in question. For example he doesn't love Dorian and Bull at first, but he respects and likes them far too much to lie about it. He could very easily have looked... say, Cassandra or Cullen in the eye and claimed to love them (it would've disgusted him, but he could have done it without any real difficulty), but Dorian and Bull? No, he couldn't do that to them. The feelings came pretty quickly, but he couldn't bring himself to actually say the words until just before the final battle against Corypheus, and that was half because he was a little worried that if he didn't say it then he'd never get the chance, as well as him just wanting to say it.

#dragon age inquisition #alaris lavellan #ask games #asks #thornfield13713

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader) Pt. 3

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood/violence and language Genre: Action with a lil bit of fluff Warnings: Lil bit of blood Notes: There's an unnamed character in here who may or may not end up as recurring in my stories. I don't really have anything in particular planned for her, she's kinda just here to fill a role/allow for some easter egg type shit in the next chapter. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1, Pt. 2

{Wounded Love 3: Bloody Valentine (No, not that Valentine)}

“Mother Miranda, I must insist, if these lycans stray any further they might start feasting on the village as well! Pray tell, who will you use for research then? We can’t just-... Forgive me… Mhmm. Yes, I understand. Of course… Have a good night, Mother Miranda,” Lady Dimitrescu said, before setting her phone down with a loud thunk. Her hands shake a little, and for a moment you worry that her vanity won’t survive the coming moments. Then you make eye contact with her reflection, giving her an encouraging smile, watching as her gaze softens. “I’m afraid there’s nothing she can do, my dear. I cannot allow Heisenberg’s negligence to go unpunished, but we will have to take care of it on our own, without Mother Miranda’s support.”

“Is that wise, love? To go behind her back like this? I can’t imagine she’ll be terribly pleased if we cause chaos for one of her favored few,” you replied, clicking your tongue as you thought things over. Again you see anger cloud Alcina’s face, though she makes sure not to direct it at you.

“We are not the ones who started this mess,” she reminded you, through clenched teeth. “But we will be the ones to end it, one way or another. I don’t care if I have to gut that wretched man-thing and bring Miranda his corpse as proof of his incompetence! He has shown his lack of loyalty hundreds of times… and now he will pay.” Gulping, you rise to your feet, wanting to comfort your girlfriend. While you had understood that your injury angered her, you hadn’t (until this moment) realized the sheer intensity of that rage. How much blood would be shed before this was over?...

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

Crimson drips down the beast’s side, across matted fur, before hitting the wooden floor. A stench as awful as you had ever found filled the air, only made tolerable by the nearby presence of scented candles. What a mess, you think, glad that you wouldn’t be the one to clean it up. Why had the girls insisted on bringing the damn thing inside? Couldn’t they have simply snatched a few teeth from its jaw as a prize? Somehow you doubted that the thought had even crossed their minds. Violence was a passion of theirs, and they preferred their trophies to be as large as the effort they put into getting it.

“How close to the path did you find it?” You asked after finishing your examination of the lycan. Next to you, the eldest daughter is rapidly taking notes in a leather-bound journal. Both of her siblings stand near the fireplace, hands held out next to the flames, needing to warm up after being outside for so long. It wasn’t even that cold of a day, with temperatures averaging around eighteen degrees celsius. All the snowfall from the prior week had now melted. While you knew of the family’s weakness, you also knew that they had bundled up before leaving, and had even taken a torch with them in the hopes of using it on a lycan. Their powers had taken somewhat of a hit, temporarily, but not nearly enough to prevent them from killing a single lycan.

“Heard it howling almost as soon as we left the castle. We couldn’t smell it until halfway to the village, though. Once we could we tried to track it, only for the stupid thing to come charging at us. Must have been eight, maybe ten, meters away by the time we collided,” Cassandra answered. There’s a bit of a shiver to her voice, and you can’t help the rush of sympathy you feel in response. Being out on the path, wearing little more than a dress and scarf, had been absolute hell for you. Even if it was warmer outside now, you imagined that being weak to the cold just about made up for the difference. “There was a little more howling once we started walking back here. Louder, if not closer. Heisenbitch isn’t even trying to keep these fucking things in check.”

“Cassandra, language!” Came a voice in the distance, making everyone present look up at once. Strutting down the stairs was a clearly miffed Alcina, eyes narrowed, body tense. “Did you three really have to bring the mutt inside? Surely you advocated against this, Bela? Or did you think I wanted new bloodstains right by the entrance, where everyone can see them?” Next to you Bela winces, but doesn’t respond, too worried about angering her mother further. “And you, my dear, what on Earth are you doing on the floor? You should be resting, in an actual chair, if not lying in bed awaiting my return. There’s enough for me to worry about without you limping around on a useless leg!”

Now it was your turn to wince.

“Please, love, I know you’re stressed, but I can still help. Given enough time I could help ascertain these things’ weaknesses. At the very least I could pass on what I learned during my fight with one,” you pleaded. Then you tried to stand up, wanting to prove yourself, only to stumble, barely avoiding a faceplant- and only doing so because of Bela’s quick reaction time. She helped you to your feet, letting you lean on her, then lead you towards a bench. Begrudgingly you sit back down. “You’re only doing this because I got hurt. Helping you in your endeavor to avenge me is the least I can do.”

“Don’t be foolish,” Alcina snapped, now just a couple meters away from you. Even with that space between you, her presence was intimidating, and you almost felt like a child being scolded. “Were you to get hurt again, how would we avenge you? If you fall by your own hand, there will be naught I can do other than lock you away somewhere without any dangerous elements. What sort of existence would that be for you? I simply can’t allow it, no exceptions.” At this you pout, feeling rather disappointed. It’s not as if you were asking to carry a gun and shoot Heisenberg yourself! Not that you would be opposed to doing so, of course. “Try to put yourself in my place, my dear. Could you live with yourself if you failed to protect me?”

“I suppose I could not, love. Very well, I shall simply root you on from here, and kiss away any injuries you return with,” you replied, at last giving in. Then you found yourself smiling… and on the receiving end of a very soft forehead kiss. “Nothing will separate us, my love. None can tear apart that which the universe has stitched together.”

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

“Like I said, my Lady, I already want him dead. Did you really think that your family was the only one to suffer because of his machinations? I know half a dozen people who would love to put a bullet in that fucker’s skull, bare mims,” the huntress said, white teeth showing in her half-smirk. There was an odd coolness to her voice, like this whole ordeal was just another job, and you couldn’t help but feel uncertain about her. Could she really be the solution to Alcina’s problem? You couldn’t even judge her arsenal, considering she had been instructed to come unarmed. After all, she was a hunter of monsters, with a sizable history to her name. If not for her hatred of Heisenberg, you would never have felt comfortable letting her come within two hundred meters of your girlfriend.

“How can I be sure that you’ll succeed? The last thing I want is to have that wretched man-thing come crawling out of the filth he lives in, angry and coming for vengeance,” Alcina responded, scrutinizing gaze locked on the huntress.

“Didn’t Duke give you my file? Or at least read the good bits out loud? I’ve been in my fair share of scraps, with all sorts of bioweapon mutant freaks. Besides, I don’t plan on leaving any receipts behind. If he manages to survive, which is already one hell of an if, there’s no way he can prove that you asked me to do it. Considering he’s already seen my face, and knows I want him dead… yeah, he won’t bother accusing you, not when I’m in the picture, and certainly not when you’ve got such a big reputation for following Mother Miranda’s word down to the very last letter. So, you gonna make this official, or what?” The huntress asked, gesturing her arms wide. Although you’re still not convinced, Alcina nods quietly, seeming ready to make her decision. Regardless of how you feel about the stranger in front of you, you’re more than willing to support your girlfriend in whatever she planned.

“Very well, huntress. Show us just what you’re capable of.”

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

Flames licked at her heels, even as she charged forward, tickling like hot breaths against her skin. Behind her half a dozen lycans roared and screeched in unison. Smoke and ashes flew upwards, into the air, but could not poison her lungs, not when she had come prepared. Still, the mask was not as easy to breathe in as she had hoped, making her chest heave with effort at each intake of air. Good thing I’ll be gone soon, she thought, sparing a glance behind her as she ran. Dozens of trees were aflame, and countless glowing eyes watched from between the branches. They wouldn’t be there for much longer, not with what she had done.

Soon enough an explosion would shake the Earth. Then, finally, both the lycans who had killed her father and the man who desecrated the remains would be dead. And if a certain countess happened to pay her for her services? All the better, really. Funerals could be expensive, especially in such a remote village. More than that… there was no guarantee that she’d be able to outrun Mother Miranda on her own. A little money would make the flight out a hell of a lot nicer.

Assuming she made it that far. There was another scream behind her, this one more human, though somewhat warped by mechanics. It wasn’t a pained cry. No, it was filled with rage. Clearly Heisenberg had come out of his lair, hearing the fireworks, finding his scrap metal and werewolf army in chaos. From the sound of things- metal against metal, electricity crackling- he was coming her way.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” She muttered, desperately trying to get to higher ground. Even if the lycans succumbed to the overwhelming fire, it wouldn’t be hard for their leader to overcome. But the huntress was still too close to her explosives to risk activating the detonator. Just a bit farther, she thought, ignoring the way her lungs ached. Rocks kicked up with every step, loud enough to be heard from a distance, and made traction harder to keep. In the end she had to scramble to get up the side of a short cliff. A few scrapes appeared on her hands, making her curse under her breath.

But with one last movement, pulling herself up with both arms, she was finally far enough to be relatively safe. In one clean second she turned around, pulled the detonator out of its pouch and clicked the trigger. Just like that, a forest blazing turns into a mushroom cloud of pure hellfire. The setting sun makes for a beautiful backdrop, and the sight almost brings a tear to the huntress’ eyes. For a few moments she just enjoys the view. Then, without hesitation or remorse, she starts to walk away, mentally congratulating herself for a job well done.

Until something shoots past her head with terrifying speed. Before she can react another sharp piece of metal flies past her, grazing her arm, and there’s a blood-curdling roar from behind her. Then she’s running, fast as she can, pulse pounding harder than it ever has. One hand goes to the rifle on her back, pulling it out as quickly as she can. The area is rocky, with plenty of outcrops, perfect to hide behind (assuming there weren’t any hidden metal deposits). Quickly she ducks behind one, crouching to keep her head out of sight. Mere milliseconds later another metal spike slams into the ground just beyond her cover.

In the distance, more screams pierce the air, and something heavy drags itself across the ground. It almost sounds like a tank rolling through the woods. The thought alone worries the huntress, but she had never been one to let her fear control her. So she double checks her rifle, adjusts the scope, and pops out of cover. Less than a second later she has her target in her sights. It’s Heisenberg, for sure, more metal than man, but dripping with red. One press of the trigger sends a bullet straight for his ugly head. Unsurprisingly, it’s not enough to pierce his cranium, instead making him mad as hell.

Which is why automatic guns were invented, probably. The huntress holds the trigger down this time, though briefly, before dashing to the next piece of cover. She repeats the process a few times, hoping to kill the man before he could climb the cliff she stood on. If he managed to get up there with her… no, she couldn’t think about that, not now. She had to focus.

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

Hidden among the trees, the Dimitrescu sisters watched as plumes of smoke rose in the distance. Even though they had been aware of the huntress’ plan, they hadn’t expected this much carnage. It was certainly exciting! But they really couldn’t see much from where they were. Getting closer was probably a horrible idea, and yet Cassandra shared a meaningful look with Daniela. A split second later they were forming a swarm, rushing into the trees, leaving their elder sister to yell after them.

“Mother’s going to kill me,” Bela said, before rolling her eyes and following. Maybe she could at least keep them out of trouble?... Probably not.

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

Metal hands wrap around the huntress’ throat, squeezing hard, but do not twist or otherwise break their prey. No, Heisenberg does not intend to end this that quickly. This rodent had taken so much from him, set his plans back by decades. He was going to kill her slowly. When she still fights back, pulling a knife from her boot and trying to stab whatever she can reach, he does little else but laugh. It’s a crazed cackling that echoes through the surrounding rocky hills.

Just barely loud enough to drown out the sound of insects buzzing.

“Fuck that guy!” Someone shouted, right as a sickle descended upon the monstrous Heisenberg’s neck. The first slice isn’t enough to sever the connection, which is why it’s immediately followed by a second, from another sister, then a third, from the eldest, that finally does the job. Just like that the hands release from the huntress’ throat, and she gasps for air. Coughs leave her distracted as the sisters move to surround her. “Good thing we wanted to see the show up close and personal, eh?” Daniela asked, twirling her sickle with a little giggle.

“You idiots are just lucky I followed you,” Bela added, glaring at her sister. Internally, she was relieved that the end result was a success. Still, she worried about what her mother would think, and certainly didn’t intend to voice her satisfaction at delivering the killing blow. “Now let’s get back, before mother assumes the worst and comes to get us herself.” Sighing, she extends a hand to help the huntress up. Though their mutual enemy had been defeated, there was still much to be done. Who knew how Mother Miranda would react? Who, if anyone, would take Heisenberg’s place? There was plenty to be unsure about, and Bela let her mind wander the whole way back, hoping that things would only get better from here...

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #I know the reader didn't have a big part in this #but don't worry next chap will have a bigger part #partially cuz reader's leg will actually be a bit better by then #gotta give time to heal!!!

[mischiefandspirits]

Oldest and Newest

Damian tugged down his face mask as he looked out over Gotham city. He was finally here.

After two decades of anticipation, after nearly a decade of work, it should have been a happy occasion.

He tugged the mask back up as he heard a scream nearby.

He stopped three muggings, saved a woman from assault, and stopped a robbery by the time a flicker of purple started following him.

He scared off some men that were following a woman then pretended to take off northward before ducking around a water tower and sneaking up on his pursuer as they tried to follow. He took them in before approaching.

They looked about five foot six. The dark body armor and cloak hid their build some, but the way they carried themself proved they were muscular even if not overly broad. As he grew closer, he could see that the armor was primarily black with dark purple detailing that matched the cloak’s color. They also wore a full face mask like his friend Vesper’s, though theirs had white lenses that stood out against the black fabric instead of being completely black like the older vigilante. They were cautious, yet sure-footed as they raced over the rooftops which showed a familiarity with the territory and an understanding of its dangers.

Similarly, their growing annoyance showed they’d realized they’d lost him so Damian swooped in to pin them against an air conditioning unit. They tried to throw him off, but his larger size and superior skills kept them pinned long enough to bind their hands and tie them to the unit.

“Who are you and why are you following me?” he growled, crossing his arms and looming over them.

They stared at him for a moment, head tilting to the side, then snorted. “No wonder he got mistaken for B a few times. Are you seeing this guy?” the young woman -- judging by her voice -- muttered to herself before saying, “I’m Spoiler and I’m following you because you randomly showed up in Gotham and started playing vigilante. Don’t you know Batman doesn’t like that?”

“And yet, here you are doing the same.”

“Excuse you, I’m Batman’s partner. I earned my place on these rooftops.”

“Right.”

She tilted up her chin and crossed her arms. “I am!”

Damian frowned, but didn’t move to redo the ties she’d slipped. Vesper had told him that his father was a solo hero. Batman worked with the Justice League and the Birds of Prey as necessary, but he’d never had a permanent confidant or taken on an apprentice like some of the other heroes. The closest thing he had to partners were the Batgirls. According to Vesper, though, neither ever developed a close bond with the man. The two might be called in as backup or would team up with his father when their paths crossed, but they never depended on one another. His father was more of an inspiration, patron, and occasional teammate than a partner to either woman.

Spoiler didn’t seem to be lying, however, and appeared too forward to be capable of deceiving him. Had something changed in the four years since he’d talked to Vesper? Perhaps he should have gone with his original plan of waiting to go out until after he’d spoken with her the next day after all.

Hindsight and such were not going to change the present, however.

He looked over the woman again. Girl, he realized. Given her proportions, she was likely in her mid-teens though he could be wrong as the armor was rather concealing. An apprentice, then, which explained why she had not fallen beside her supposed partner. The mission his father perished on must have been deemed too dangerous for her to accompany him.

He carefully thought over his next words. He was not ready to announce his presence yet as clearly he had some research to do and he needed to speak with Vesper. He also didn’t know how trustworthy Spoiler was. Even if she was telling the truth about being his father’s partner, that did not tell him just how far his father’s trust in her went and therefore how far he should trust her in turn.

He stepped back from the girl, dropping his arms and attempting to take on a less antagonistic posture. “Then I am sorry for your loss.”

“Loss?” Spoiler questioned.

“Batman’s death,” he answered slowly. Had no one told her?

“What? Batman’s not dead.”

Oh, no, she was simply trying to hide the truth. “My contacts within the Justice League say otherwise.”

Batman's death had left Flamebird uncharacteristically despondent of late, understandably given how close his father and Damian’s were and the fact Flamebird had been on the mission where Batman perished.

“Someone’s going to get an ass beating,” she muttered, storming to her feet. She poked him in the chest. “So what, you find out Batman’s gone and decide that means you have a free pass to just do whatever you want in my city.”

Damian pushed her hand away, fighting down the urge to stab it. “As I think we’ve established, I had no idea you existed. I simply had business in Gotham and thought I’d do some good for a recently undefended city.”

“Yeah, well, now you know the city is being defended.”

“By a child, yes,” Damian scoffed before he could stop himself and the girl bristled.

“Who the fickle frack are you to judge me?”

After being momentarily stunned by her euphemism, he answered, “I am Ẓill.”

She stared at him and slowly shook her head. “Yeah, no offense, it’s def a me problem, but if I try to say that I will totally beat it to hell and back with a tire iron then set it on fire and spit on it just for good measure. Is that an alien language?”

“Arabic.”

“Shit. Yeah, okay, that’s why I’m sticking to the Romance languages for now.” She glanced to the side. “Do you know Arabic?”

“I-” he started, but she waved him quiet.

“I thought you were going to learn after the last run-in with… Okay, yeah, that’s fair. So… Well of course he can, the little polyglot.” She turned back to Damian as he started to wonder if the girl was insane. “So your name translates to Shadow. Mind if I just call you that because, again, I will not be responsible for the atrocity that leaves my mouth if I try to pronounce Arabic without time to practice.”

“Shadow is fine.” She wouldn’t be the first, as it had taken both Flamebird and Beacon awhile to learn how to pronounce his name properly, and the Ismoian still called him that on occasion as a nickname. More accurately she called him Shadow the Hedgehog, but that was a reference he refused to investigate given Flamebird’s reaction to it. “Who are you talking to?”

She gestured to the side of her head. “Augur. He’s our eye-in-the-sky computer guy. Hacking, running comms, information gathering, strategy, all that fun stuff.”

“I thought Oracle worked with Batman when he needed assistance with that.”

“Oracle? I mean, she helped train Augur and helps out when he needs a hand, but she’s got the Birds of Prey and Vesper, not to mention helping out the Justice League sometimes. I think she used to do a lot more for Batman back before Augur, but she’s got her own shit to do now. Augur’s our main man.”

He really should have waited to speak to Vesper. Clearly his information was more out of date than he thought.

“So, Shadow Weaver, what brings you to Gotham then?”

“Shadow Weaver?” He growled when she nodded, radiating amusement. That was clearly another reference he didn’t want to know anything about. “My being here is none of your concern.”

“Random unknown vigilantes being in my city are, like, the definition of my concern,” she said, cocking a hip.

“Your city?”

“Yeah, my city. So either tell me why you’re here or get lost.”

“And if I don’t?”

She shifted into a fighting stance. “I’ll make you.”

Damian snorted at the threat, then was yanked backward by his hood. He brought his hand up to defend, which was knocked aside.

He froze when he recognized the featureless mask staring down at him.

“I told you to keep your head down,” Vesper reprimanded, poking him in the forehead.

“If you had warned me that Batman had picked up a disciple this wouldn’t have happened,” he huffed and Spoiler pretended to gag.

“Ew, gross, don’t call me that. Makes it sound like I worship B or something, which, yeah, no.”

“Stop picking fights with Spoiler,” Vesper said and poked his forehead again. “Batman is already going to be mad enough.”

Damian’s eyes darted away from his friend and, behind Vesper, he saw Spoiler flinch.

Vesper let him back up and shoved him away. She turned to Spoiler. “I’ll deal with him. He’s a friend. Sorry.”

The girl nodded and left.

“Come on.”

The older vigilante led him to the rooftop of a clock tower. She used a biometric scanner to unlock a hidden hatch and they slipped inside, dropping down ropes into a workspace.

There was an elaborate computer setup in one corner, oddly lacking a chair, and a workout space in the other. Mirroring that was a modest medical area in one corner and a kitchenette in the other with seating at the island. Elevator doors stood between the computers and medical area while a couch and some chairs sat at the center of the room.

Pulling off her hood and mask, Cassandra led him to the couch. He removed his own hood and mask then pulled his katana off his back to lean against his leg as he sat next to her on the couch.

“You look good,” she said, glancing over him.

“You too. It’s good to see you again.”

She nodded, then lightly slapped his arm. “What were you thinking, Damian? I know I told you how protective Batman is of his territory.”

Damian’s left hand came up to trace the phoenix engraved onto his right bracer. “When was the last time you spoke to someone in the Justice League?”

She frowned, studying him. “I have been on an Outsiders mission for the past month, and was busy with a show the month before that. If Oracle has worked with them in that time, she hasn’t said anything. Why?”

“A little under a month ago, a JL team went on a mission. I don’t know the full details, but it had something to do with Darkseid and… Batman did not make it back.”

She didn’t react visibly, but her voice was soft when she asked, “You are sure?”

“Jon was on the mission. He said Batman was vaporized right before their eyes. I’m sorry.”

She bowed her head and closed her eyes. After her moment of silence, she looked up at him, face blank. “Why?”

“Why?”

“Why are you here? Why do you care? You’ve always been interested in Batman, but this is… more.”

He sat up straight, hands fisting on his thighs. “I told you my name was Damian Naji, but that was a lie. My name is actually Damian al Ghul. My mother is Talia al Ghul… and my father was Batman.”

She studied him. “Batman… did not know?”

“Not as far as I am aware. Mother told me she told him she miscarried because I would be a distraction to him and the cause. After everything you’ve told me about him, I think she and Grandfather were just worried he’d take me from them. If she told him after I left, I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell him? You could have come to him for help when you ran away from the League.”

“Tt. You know how I was back then. I was everything Father stood against. He wouldn’t have wanted anything to do with me. Not until I could prove I was worthy of him.”

She reached out to take his hand. “That’s not true. He knew my past and he accepted me.”

“You killed one person, instantly regretted it, and never killed again. I spent almost ten years as an assassin. It’s not the same. Besides, you were just an occasional teammate. I’m…”

“His son. Which is exactly why I know he would have loved you. Batman cares deeply for those who he considers his own. Even Oracle and I. He keeps -” She frowned and looked down. “He kept his distance from us, but only because he felt he didn’t have a right to us. Oracle had a parent and was independent, only needing help getting her feet under her. I was an adult, legally, when we met and Oracle took on my training since she was the one who found me and had practice working with younger heroes due to assisting Black Canary with the Justice League’s minor division. Had he found you, though, he wouldn’t have hesitated. You would have been his.

“He would not have been happy about how you were raised, but he still would have loved you. He would not have turned you away, even if you had wanted to continue down the path of an assassin. He would have seen that wasn’t what you wanted, though, and taught you a new way. You would not have had to do it on your own.”

Damian shook his head. “No, I had to prove that I wasn’t what my mother made me. I had to prove I could follow his rules, only then could I present myself as his heir.”

“You wouldn’t have had to prove anything to him.”

He pulled his hand away to trail it against his bracer again. “Perhaps you are right. You knew him better than I. But I did have to prove it to myself.”

She shook her head and wrapped an arm around his shoulders despite him being a head taller and twice as wide. “How?”

“My first kill was on my sixth birthday. I was fifteen when we met and I decided to leave behind the League’s ways in favor of Father’s. It… took me longer than I liked to push through the instincts to kill so on my sixteenth birthday I made an oath. Ten years of saving lives to atone for ten years of taking them. Only if I reached my twenty-sixth birthday without taking another life would I come to Gotham.”

“That is why you’ve come.”

“No, my birthday is still a few months away, but… Jon told me what happened. I realized I was too late so I am here to… I thought if I could never present myself to Father absolved of guilt, I could at least protect the city he devoted himself to since I believed it was now undefended.”

“You did not know about the others,” she chuckled.

“You told me he worked alone,” he growled.

“He did when we last spoke.” She pulled away, tilting her head. “Am I your only source for information?”

“Yes. I did not know if I could trust any other source given his reclusiveness.”

“But I only told you about Batman. What about behind the man under the cowl?”

He slumped back against the couch.

“You do not know who he is,” she said, amusement in her voice.

“Mother always told me I would learn who he was when I’d earned it. The only things I know are that I am his only family and heir. That’s why I asked you to meet me. I wanted to do this properly and cover his responsibilities in and out of the mask, but I can’t do that without knowing who he is. I’d hoped that either you would know or you could help me figure it out.”

She hummed and glanced to the side.

He followed her gaze to see a clock on the wall. It was nearing two in the morning.

Suddenly she hopped to her feet and dragged him up. “You said you are staying at Hotel Belle Monico?”

“Yes, room 3215.”

“Go straight back there and get changed.”

He nodded, figuring she wanted to get some rest. “Alright. I’ll see you later then.”

After getting her confirmation, he climbed up the ropes and did as told. It only took him fifteen minutes to get back to his room and another twenty to change out of his vigilante attire, lock all his gear away, shower, and put on his sleeping clothes. Once that was done he started to debate whether or not to get some sleep or do a bit of research first.

A knock came at his door.

He grabbed the small dagger he kept on him at all times and palmed one of the knives he’d hidden around the room as he approached the door. He peeked through the peephole, then tucked both weapons into his waistband and opened the door.

Cassandra had lost her own suit in favor of a casual teal dress and gold-brown leggings. She frowned as she took him in and started shoving him further into the room before he could say anything. “Get dressed.”

“What’s going on?”

“Clothes.”

Well aware he wasn’t going to get anything out of her, he slipped into the suite's bedroom and changed into some slacks and a polo.

“Good,” she said when he came out, then turned on her heel and left.

He quickly followed after grabbing his wallet and one of the room’s keycards.

“Where are we going?” he asked once they were in the elevator, but she just smiled at him.

The silence continued as they climbed into her car and she drove them through the city. He tried to ask again when they crossed a bridge out of the main city and into a neighborhood filled with mansions and old manors, but she remained tight-lipped until they pulled up to the gate of a larger manor.

She rolled down the window and hit the call button, which was soon answered over the video screen by an older gentleman in a butler’s uniform.

“Ah, hello, Ms. Cain,” the man said in a warm, British accent. “I was told you might make an appearance, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“Hello, Alfred. Should this wait?”

“No, you might as well come in now. They’re all still awake after tonight’s events,” he sighed and the gates began to creak open.

“Sorry,” she said and he waved her off before the screen went dark.

Curiosity itched at Damian, but he stayed quiet as Cassandra drove up to the front door and they climbed out.

Alfred met them at the door. He gave Cassandra a kind smile then turned it to Damian. “Always a pleasure, Ms. Cain. And who is this?”

She looped her arm around one of Damian’s. “An old friend. Alfred, this is Damian Wayne. Damian, this is Alfred Pennyworth.”

He didn’t react to the name, assuming she’d just given him an alias, but the calculating expression on Alfred’s face as he stared at Damian’s had him second-guessing the assumption.

The expression was quickly replaced by a sad smile, however, as the man stepped back to allow them into the manor. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Master Damian.”

“You as well, Mr. Pennyworth.”

“Just Alfred, my boy. Please come in. The others are winding down in the family room.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Cassandra said, then led Damian into the house by his arm. They went up the main staircase in the entrance hall and into the first door on the left where they found a room inhabited by a group of children.

The oldest were a pair of teenagers sitting on the couch.

The girl was white, but tanned with long blonde hair pulled into a messy braid and dark green eyes. She was thin but muscular and he could see her arms were covered in small scars thanks to her Gotham Sirens tank top. She was cradling a sleeping infant who was wrapped in a Wonder Woman blanket and clutching a stuffed Batman.

The other teen was more androgynous, body hidden under an overly large White Arrow hoodie and Supergirl sweat pants. They were Latine with their skin a pale brown and their eyes a silvery blue. Their hair was black and chin-length. They had a video game controller on their lap and a tablet in their hands.

The next oldest was a preteen boy with a book sitting sideways in an armchair, back against one arm and legs draped over the other. He was fair with freckles speckling his face around his navy eyes. His hair was short and a dark red, almost black color. He was thin and muscular like the girl, but there was a touch of broadness to his shoulders that spoke of a bulkiness to come with puberty. A German Shepherd was squeezed onto the chair with him, half-tucked under the boy's legs with his head on the boy's stomach for pets.

The last child was a few years younger than the preteen. He both had the most conditioned and the least combative build of the children, having more of a gymnast's figure. His skin was of a similar olive tone to Damian’s, though a few shades lighter, and his curly hair was brown-black. Damian couldn’t see his eyes as he was dozing on a rug in front of the tv with a three-legged pitbull puppy, both curled around a large stuffed elephant. A video game controller was abandoned behind the boy.

The three awake children turned to Damian and Cassandra when they entered. They all greeted her warmly, but the girl and boy eyed him warily while the androgynous teen studied him with sharp curiosity.

“Who’s your friend, Cassie?” the boy asked.

Cassandra shoved Damian further into the room. “Your brother.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So last month I made a post asking if anyone had written a story where the Robins' ages were reversed as is the trope, but they still got taken in by Bruce in the same order as well as giving some ideas for how that could work. No one ever got back to me on if that was already a thing so I figured I might as well write out one of the scenes that really caught my interest when brainstorming.

#batfam #damian wayne #cass cain #stephanie brown #batman #rabno #fanfiction

[florencesmachine]

tell me what's going on

Why tumblr user donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame/luciehvrondaie is an embarrassment: a Masterpost

Hi if you’re here it’s because you’ve heard that tumblr user donottearmedown is an embarrassment and you’d like to know all the details! Let me break it down. It all started with this post by @minacarstairs (Tessa (yes @minacarstairs’s name is Tessa sorry if that makes this post confusing)), in which donottearmedown originally reached out to Tessa by sending her something along the lines of “Do you ship heronstairs/herongraystairs?” And Tessa replied with something along the lines of “Yeah lmao herongraystairs rights!”

(I wanna note that Tessa was being very polite, and continues to be very polite to people who disagree with her opinions on heronstairs/herongraystairs. She even began her original conversation with dont tear me down by saying it’s a matter of personal interpretation :) it’s donottearmedown who made the conversation mean-spirited)

(Also Tessa pls correct next if I’m wrong on any of this thnx)

And then sometime later, the conversation above ensues in which donottearmedown, seemingly perfectly reasonable at first, disagrees with the ship and offers a link to look at. (She throws this link around any chance she gets. She really fucking loves this link.) I got involved because in her answer, Tessa replies back with a link from a post I made from my own blog starting back in 2018, and then continued to add to it until my account got terminated (long story). You can read through both posts and check out all the replies! But basically we realized during this interaction that donottearmedown wasn’t looking to have a friendly conversation and was, in fact, batshit crazy. They were saying some absolute brain dead shit like that people shipping heronstairs is the same as people shipping Alec x Clary. Here’s the screenshot:

donottearmedown came back the next day to reply on several of Tessa and mine’s post which she wasn’t even tagged in, such as this one, and this one that had absolutely nothing to do with her because I make that same post every year. Here’s a screenshot from my old account last year via Instagram:

(there are more posts she replied to but I can’t be bothered to look for them, I’m sure you can find them on their blog if you can spare the braincells)

Racism by donottearmedown:

So, Tessa received this anon which tipped us off to some of the other tomfoolery on donottearmedown’s blog. We decided to look for ourselves and lo and behold, here’s the post of donottearmedown accusing Cassandra Clare of having a “Chinese kink” for writing Jessa:

Which, first of all, makes no sense because there’s like 2 Chinese characters in TSC total. If anything CC has a straight white boy kink lmao. But by saying this she was basically implying that the ONLY way Tessa (book!Tessa), or anybody who loves Jem, can love him is if they have a “Chinese kink”. Which donottearmedown can’t seem to be able to understand is an incredibly racist thing to say and think.

They also reblogged this BLM link and proceeded to tag it with absolute nonsense like “#smoke weed #lose weight #wessa”. I don’t know if her intentions were to mock the BLM movement but I still found this to be so incredibly disrespectful and tone deaf.

I also feel like I should mention this ask sent to Tessa in which donottearmedown implies she ~could be~ Asian, but it’s “none of her business anyways” (as if being Asian would absolve anyone of being racist akjsksjsj), but based on the fact that she has a track record of lying and pretending to be a person she’s not (as you will soon see :)) I call bullshit lmao:

I think that was the last of our interactions until today? Tessa and I were distracted because we have, you know, real lives.

But anyway, that brings us to today.

donottearmedown started replying to posts from mine and Tessa’s blogs which she wasn’t tagged in, again, and made several days ago. This one literally wasn’t even about her, it was about someone else that had engaged with one of Tessa’s posts. I made that post over a week ago and had already forgotten about it, but clearly donottearmedown never stops thinking about us 😳

NOW I WOULD LIKE TO POINT OUT THIS POST SPECIFICALLY.

Why? Because donottearmedown and luciequeenofelfame (now luciehervndaie) interacted on this post, as 2 seperate entities. luciequeenofelfame had also interacted with Tessa and I’s original posts at the beginning of June (you can check the replies on the posts!) coming to donottearmedown’s defense, and praising her for her opinions and other shit like that.

Here’s the screenshot. As you can see here, luciehervndaie reblogs from donottearmedown and adds on to their opinion:

Now here’s the kicker: donottearmedown and luciehervndaie are the same person.

As in, this bitch literally made up a second blog so that she can pretend to be someone else agreeing with her own opinions and cheering herself on.

Here’s the proof:

I made this post calling out donottearmedown on their racism. I didn’t bother tagging her in the original post because I knew she was stalking my blog and would see it eventually anyway. 😌 And they took the bait, as you can see.

AND THEN I got the notification that luciequeenofelfame had replied to my post. Here’s the reply:

Now here’s where donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame made an oopsie! 😳

Notice where luciequeenofelfame says “1. I didn’t delete it lmao”. She’s responding to my tags on this post where I’m calling out donottearmedown on her racist post, and my tags read:

“#the fact you went and deleted this post because you KNEW you were about to get slammed #comedy”

(context: @wilhelminacarstairs looked on donottearmedown’s blog recently looking for the post I screenshotted in the link above, and he couldn’t find it so I assumed she deleted it so that I wouldn’t call her out on it. Although she claims she didn’t delete it, so! Maybe it’s still up! Feel free to look for it and let me know lmao)

Now, in the tags I am obviously talking to donottearmedown, correct? So then why is luciequeenofelfame replying that she didn’t delete anything? 🤔 AND JUST AS IM ABOUT TO REPLY-

Wow, looks like I can’t reblog the post. Why? Because luciequeenofelfame has deleted it, and then IMMEDITALY changed her url to luciehvrondaie, hoping it would cover her tracks. Little does she know, tumblr notifications are forever:

As you can see, donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame/luciehervndaie realized they made an oopsie, so she deleted her first response and posted it again from the blog she actually MEANT to post it from. Damn if only she knew that @minacarstairs @wilhelminacarstairs and I keep screenshots of e v e r y t h i n g :/ Then she might have gotten away with it! 😩

But yeah lmao here are the posts I made about it immeditaly afterwards calling her out on it because I thought it was funny: X X X X

She defends herself on some of them saying shit like “wow so I’m just making up blogs for support wessa? The majority of the fandom supports Wessa so I’m all of those blogs according to you? I’m thousands of people?!” Or just trying to change the topic back to heronstairs and ignoring the allegations altogether. Like, no luv we’re not saying you’re every single Wessa blog ever. We’re just saying you’re these 2, and we’re right lmao. If you look through both their blogs they also post about the same fandoms, and more damning, make a lot of the same spelling errors. Seriously their speech pattern is exactly the same. Feel free to look through them if you want, and if they don’t start mass-deleting post trying to cover their tracks.

BONUS:

I don’t know how true this is, but according to @fair-but-wilde-child on this ask, donottearmedown is ALSO the infamous twitter stan that complained to CC about TLH having too many gay characters.

EXTRA BONUS:

luciequeenofelfame/luciehvrondaie (donottearmedown’s second account 😌) is the account responsible for that wessa vs jessa comparison chart that went around a while ago LMAOOOOOOOO embarrassing

tl;dr: donottearmedown/luciequeenofelfame/luciehvrondaie is a biphobic racist who’s opinions are so bad she has to make a second account to agree with herself

🥺 tragic

Also I wanna say for the record, as @minacarstairs ans @wilhelminacarstairs will testify, I guessed a while ago these accounts were the same person when I noticed their speech patterns were eerily similar, and how luciequeenofelfame always seemed to reply to donottearmedown’s posts IMMEDITATELY after they were posted. 

So the lesson for today? Cinthia is always right. 😤

#WHEW this took a while but here u go #feel free to scroll back through my blog and see the posts #also ive tagged almost everything from these interactions with her url #donottearmedown #replies #bidrewtanaka #long post

[littleturtle95]

Alec’s birthday weekend celebration 🥰 Day 2 // free space. TLBOTW review

I havent’t seen a review for the book, only critics/praising and comments on specific moments, so I’m here to do a proper analysis.

This book has many perks and a few lows and I’d like to talk about both. I’ll start with the lows to end on a positive note. Surfing on the internet I’ve read that the plot feels a bit rushed, and I have to agree. I had the impression that the whole book serves the sole purpose of introducing Sammael and showing the last scene with all the princes of hell. Everything that leads to that (the thorn, the two swords then merging into one, the trip to Diyu, Shanghai and the false tracks) were born and died in this book and it felt like they were not well integrated with the TSC universe, they were just there to write something that could realistically lead to the final moment. The two swords Alec and Magnus carry are literal Gods that we’ve never heard before, they use them one time and then they’re gone. You don’t introduce something this powerful that carries so much weight just to shrug it off after one use, one use that doesn’t even involve the sake of our main characters (and why did only Alec have to be tested to prove his worth? both Alec and Magnus got a sword 🤔 that’s something I didn’t understand at all, if you know it feel free to explain in the comments) Another example of this are the two guardians of Diyu, the demons that heal constantly touching the ground of hell, apparently undefeatable. You don’t introduce something like that and kill it off in half a chapter, it’s anticlimactic. And you don’t hype up the father of all demons and then you get him defeated by Isabelle riding a tiger (come on he should have killed them all in that scene) and, even worse, you make him run away like a common demon after things start getting rough. Shinyu leaves and Sammael is “Fuck this, I’m out.” Bitch, you’re a Prince of hell! You’re the Prince of hell! Stop her! Kill them! WTF dude. Yeah, I think this is the main problem of the book. It introduces these huge elements and then it shrugs them off in the most anticlimactic way possible. The other thing I didn’t like was Ragnor’s reaction to Raphael’s dead. Ragnor probably isn’t one to make a fuss, but ffs they were extremely close friends. In TBC Ragnor scolds Magnus because Raphael calls him much more than Magnus does, they exchanged letters, calls, gossip, they used to have meetings, in GOTSM we see them greeting eachother with a high five, and we know how Raphael gets, he’s not so openly friendly even with Magnus and he died for him. They weren’t friends, they were great friends. All we get is a “he passes all stages of grief at once” and “I liked him // He liked you too”. Ohhhhhhhh and a “every war has a life count” like WHAT THE FUCK Seriously? Okay.

Well, what I didn’t like is over so let’s start with the perks. I’ve read many times that the characters are ooc. Jace feeling down because he has a broken foot and he can’t fight (Jace Herondale would never avoid a fight for a broken bone!!!), Simon feeling insecure (the first time he went down to hell things were even worse and he didn’t make such a fuss!!!), Alec calling Magnus pet names (it’s not like him he never did it!!!) and I’ll tell you this: At first I had this impression too, but in the long run I don’t think it’s fair to say those things. The TMI gang we know is younger, less mature, a teenage rebel gang. We read about the grown up them in other spin off books or in TDA, that’s for sure, but not as main characters, just as cameos, so it feels weird to see them as grownups. We thought we were familiar with them but we don’t feel the same familiarity anymore and that’s fine. It would be crazy if they were the same people as before. The Jace we knew was reckless, self destructive and didn’t care much if he lived or died. This Jace that doesn’t feel safe fighting with a broken foot and chooses to guide the others with his strategies is a Jace that knows his limits, a Jace that cares about his life and understands that his well being affects others, a Jace that accepts that the fact he can’t fight for once doesn’t make him less worthy. This Jace is the Jace he became, we are not used to it, we don’t recognise him at first, but what he does is perfectly normal. It would have been less realistic if he acted like he would have acted in City of Bones or even City of Heavenly Fire. This Simon is not the Simon he was the first time they went to Hell. That time he was a vampire, he wasn’t expecting to die. That time he cared deeply about Clary, he fancied Isabelle, but that was kind of all of it. Now he cares about Clary yes, but Isabelle is his family. Jace is his family. Magnus and Alec are his family, too. He is worried because he is mortal and because he has much more to lose. He is worried because he just lost a friend and for the first time he has to come to terms with the fact that being a Shadowhunter really means you go out in the morning and you don’t know if you’ll make it to dinner time. And this doesn’t only affect his bestfriend and the girl he dated while he dated some other chick. This affects him, his fiancée, his parabatai and the rest of his family. It’s not like City of Heavenly Fire, it’s okay for Simon to break down like this, it’s not ooc, it’s a character that changed because the story lead him to change. Alec calls Magnus pet names and is affectionate because he is not the closeted angsty teen he was in TMI. He is a father, a man, someone that knows his loved ones support him and someone who doesn’t have to hide. Come on, in GOTSM he showed Magnus’ and Max’s pictures to everyone he’s met, he stops randomly a werewolf girl getting ice cream, points at Magnus and says “See that man? That’s My Husband overthere.” He is not “He’s not my warlock” Alec, he is “That’s my husband” Alec and we aren’t used to it because we’ve never seen him as a main character in other books after his change, but we know this change happened so we can’t have a Pikachu face if Alec says “My love” or kisses him on the street in front of other people. This is not ooc, this is Alec, the same one, the one who is now more than twenty years old and wants to get married and is raising a child and in a few years is becoming consul. It would be absolutely nonsense for him to keep the distance he kept in TMI. Another complain I’ve seen is “not enough Malec and too many characters”. I don’t think there were too many characters and I don’t feel like we hadn’t enough Malec. Yes, the whole TMI gang was there but I liked that, that’s a plus for me. It’s true, Alec and Magnus’ relationship didn’t evolve in this book, they stayed pretty much the same, we don’t see an actual arc like we did in TRSOM but the romance was still there. There’s no need for relationship drama, and a book about romance doesn’t have to be a push and pull to be interesting. We had a lot of romance, but the angst and the challenges came from other people. It was an established relationship book and I think it worked well with it. The exchanges between the characters were genuine, witty, and I feel like every one of them bonded just right. The relationship between Alec and Jace, Simon and Clary, the other two couples, they were all on point and in character and I liked all their interactions. It was really nice to read them all together and I needed this. Now, the Tian discourse. I feel like Cassandra did a great foreshadowing with this one, something that I immediately noticed. In TRSOM I knew the whole time that Shinyun was going to betray them. It was said multiple times that Alec didn’t trust her and when they’re on the boat in Venice coming back from the party Alec is sleeping and still stops Shinyun that was going to touch Magnus waking up for a moment. Alec is really smart at reading people (except for understanding when they’re in love and that’s hilarious). A line that made me go mhhhh🤔 was when the book says “Alec trusted Tian”. Why say that in that way, totally random mid chapter? Why not to say the others trusted Tian too? Magnus at least? Or why to say anything at all? In that moment they weren’t discussing his worth and he hadn’t even started to act weird. The line made no sense. So I wondered if the line wasn’t saying Alec trusted Tian, the line was saying we should trust Tian, because the other time a trip like this happened Alec didn’t trust Shinyun and she turned out to be a total pain in the ass. Another thing I loved was the action. This is what I want from a TSC book, I want demon hunts, magic artifacts, trips to hell, weapon shopping. Our shadowhunters actually shadow hunting. This book had more of it than TRSOM, so kudos to that. To give this rant a end, I enjoyed this book. I enjoyed this book very much. I disagreed with some choices, I disliked some details, but I’m glad I bought it. It brought me back home, and that’s everything I wanted. This family, the TMI family, is a bit like my family now, and they were so much themselves that I couldn’t help but love it.

P.S. The cameos were rad. The parts with Maryse and Kadir were perfect, I adored Elyaas and when I read there was Raphael I screamed.

#alecsbdayweekwendcelebration #tlbotw spoilers #tlbotw spoiler #the lost book of the white #malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #Detective AU #the eldest curses #review #book commentary #brithday event

[peppersonironi]

Batfam/Avengers Crossover Chapter Three: Morning Routines

Tagging: @the-fair-maiden-of-fandom

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types

Relationships: Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Natasha Romanov & Damian Wayne, Clint Barton & Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tim Drake & Duke Thomas, Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Dick Grayson/Wally West, Roy Harper/Koriand'r/Jason Todd,

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Justice League (DCU), Alfred Pennyworth, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Bruce Banner, Peter Parker, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Bat-Cow (DCU), Goliath (DCU), Selina Kyle’s Cat Isis, Kate Kane (DCU), Duke Thomas,

Additional Tags: Batbrothers (DCU), Avengers Meet The Batfam, MCU/Batfam crossover, Crossover, no beta we die like robins, rated T for Jason’s language, I bleeped it out though. Just to be safe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, canon? What’s canon?, Deaf Clint Barton,Deaf Character, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Happy Batfamily (DCU), Birdflash and joyfire are implied/referenced,

Summary: Now that the Avengers have begun to settle into the Manor, they get to know the inhabitants.

Notes: Yo, I do take requests for scenarios, pov’s, and characters to show up!

Steve awoke in one of the most comfortable beds he had ever slept in. For a moment he was relaxed as the sun streamed in through the large window. Then he sat straight up. How did he get here?

Then he remembered. After the Justice League had left, Batman - he still felt weird calling him Bruce - led them into an elevator which emerged in a richly adorned sitting room. The entrance to the elevator being in the Grandfather clock which lay to the side of the room. A butler - a butler! Even Tony didn’t have one of those - had met them there. Batman had informed him that they would be staying for a while, and the butler had quickly led them to free rooms, assuring the Avengers that clothes would be provided before dinner. He had spoken the truth, as a change of clothes were provided shortly. Steve suspected they were pilfered from the manor’s residents.

Steve got out of bed and went over to the neatly stacked pile of clothes, and got dressed. He had been given cargo pants and a gray t-shirt. He then left his room and began to follow the smell of breakfast - a heavenly mixture of coffee, maple syrup, bacon, and blueberry pancakes.

Nat, Tony, and Clint were already in the kitchen when he arrived. They were sitting on stools at the island along with Tim Drake and Cassandra Cain. The Butler was placing a heaping pile of pancakes on the table whilst handing Tim a pot of coffee.

Steve walked over and sat down. "Good morning," he said. "They look great sir, thank you."

The Butler smiled. "Call me Alfred, everyone else does." He spoke with a crisp british accent, which Steve hadn’t noticed the evening before.

Steve nodded as he took some pancakes and bacon. Everyone else started chowing down as well, with the exception of Tim. Tim looked horrible, if Steve was being honest. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his lids were drooped.

Tim was about to pour some coffee, when Steve noticed he was clearly going to miss the mug. Steve opened his mouth to say something when Cassandra Cain reached over and casually pushed the mug over.

Tim filled up the mug. He either hadn’t noticed, or hadn’t cared.

Cassandra went back to her  seat. "You sleep?"

Tim shrugged. "No more than usual. I had patrol, then worked on that eastside murder case."

Cassandra frowned. “ Sleep ,” she said vehemently.

"What's patrol?" Clint asked curiously.

Tim frowned. “We go out and patrol Gotham. Take care of crime. Typical vigilante stuff.”

This gave Steve pause. “You handle petty crime?”

Tim blinked. “You don’t? I thought you said you were superheroes?"

Natasha nodded. “So you’re like Peter. He protects Manhattan. The rest of us only got together due to an alien invasion. We’re what you would call the . . . heavy hitters.”

Cassandra nodded. “City needs us. Without . . .” She pursed her lips and moved her hands around. “Bad things happen.”

“Once you have finished, might I suggest you explore the manor or cave?” Alfred said as he placed more bacon on the table. “Master Bruce has a full gym and training areas in the Batcave which you are welcome to use. After all, if you are to stay here, you might as well have something to do.”

Steve stood up from his now finished meal. “Thank you Alfred, I believe I will. I think I remember the way to the cave. Thank you for the meal.”

Tony nodded. “See you down there, I guess.” Clint and Natasha agreed.

*****

Steve entered the cave to find that he was not the first one there. Standing on the main platform was an honest-to-god cow.

It was brown and white, with stubby horns and a baleful look. On its forehead was a brown patch that looked suspiciously like a bat. The cow mood.

“Bat-Cow! Get away from the invader!” Damian Wayne swooped in out of nowhere and landed in front of the now named Bat-Cow. “What are you doing in the cave?” He asked, his sword drawn and pointed at Steve’s chest.

“The butler - Alfred -  said I could come down here to workout,” Steve replied. He was still trying to get over the fact that a cow was in front of him, being guarded by an eleven year-old in black training clothes that looked a lot like a ninja’s.

“T-t,” Damian replied, clearly unimpressed.

“Well, um. . . Is that a cow?” Steve couldn’t help himself.

“Yes of course. Are you blind? This is Bat-Cow. Bat-Cow, this is one of the invaders by the name of Steve Rogers. Stay away, he’s probably not even a vegetarian.” With that, the boy and the cow strolled away, and Steve turned to go.

*****

Steve found the gym platform and set to work. It was quite nice equipment, and Steve enjoyed using it. He wasn’t the only one, as both Jason Todd and Stephanie Brown were there with him in gym clothes. They both wore gray sweatpants, but Stephanie also wore a purple sports bra, almost the same color as her suit. Stephanie was using some resistance bands and Jason was bench pressing.

Steve walked in muttering about cows, which gained a smile from Jason, who inevitably heard him.

“If a cow surprises you,” Jason said between lifts, “then wait till you see Goliath.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve asked as he settled into a warm-up.

“One of Damian’s other . . . pets.” Stephanie said, a grimace on her face. “But boy, I can’t wait till I see your face!” She laughed as she finished up, and moved onto chin-ups.

Steve frowned, but let it slide. There was silence after a while as he settled into his routine. Eventually he moved over to bench presses. He began to set up the weights, glad there were so many, as he usually needed a lot more than the average man.

Steve looked over at Jason, who was still pressing. On closer inspection he was benching almost 400 pounds.

“Do you have super strength,” Steve asked before he could help himself.

Jason snorted and finished up his last few reps, setting the bar down then sitting up. He wiped his face as he answered Steve. “Nope, I don’t need superstength to get these babies.”

He lifted up his arms and flexed. This sent Stephanie into a giggle fit. “You,” She said between snorts, “Jason Peter Todd, are utterly ridiculous.”

Jason smiled as well before turning back to Steve. “But really, none of us bats have super strength. All we have is skill, and kicka** personalities.”

Steve frowned, but nodded anyway. He went to begin bench pressing when Stephanie asked him, “That Stark guy said you were a supersoldier, I assume that super strength comes with it?”

“Yup. There was an experimental serum that the scientists of World War II chose me to test. I worked in the army for a while, before I got frozen in ice due to taking down a Nazi ship. I got rescued and joined the Avengers to help stop an alien invasion.”

Jason muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “cheater.”

Stephanie glared at him. Before standing up and speaking cheerfully “Well, I’m going to go spar with whoever’s available. See you later?” Stephanie walked off, grabbing a purple water bottle on the way out.

Jason nodded. He moved on in his workout, and Steve went back to his bench presses. After a while, Jason had left to spar. Steve finished up himself, then decided to follow. He remembered seeing a fighting area on his way down, so he left the gym and started his search.

*****

Steve didn’t have to search for long, as the platform in question was easily the most crowded. It was the largest, with some thin mats on the floor. Steve wasn’t sure that they would provide much protection.

Thor was standing near the center, holding Mjolnir, and looking quite uncomfortable. He was seemingly being questioned by Damian, Jason, and Cassandra. Tim, Duke, Peter, Nat, Bruce (Banner), Tony, Bruce  (Wayne) and Clint stood to the side. Their faces were a mixture of worry (Nat, Bruce Banner, Tony, and Clint), Amusement, (Tim, Dick and Duke), and confusion (Peter and Bruce Wayne).

Steve walked up to Nat. “What’s going on?” He asked.

“They're questioning the technicalities of being worthy of the hammer,” She said with a frown. “Specifically how many and how often you murder to be excluded.”

Steve frowned right along with her as he turned to the conversation.

“But is there a time frame?” Jason was asking. “Like say you don’t kill for like two weeks, and you’ve been super good? Would that get you points?”

“Uh. . .” The look on Thor’s face was priceless.

“T-t,” Damian said. “What about the technicalities behind the actual murder? Perhaps if a seven year old went on a killing spree? Would age exempt him?”

“I’m not sure a child would-”

“Not their fault?” Cassandra asked. “Forced? Didn’t know?”

Jason frowned. “Yeah, would the kid be declared unworthy if they were forced to kill? Or they didn’t know what they were doing?”

“Well, I-”

“What about mind control? Manipulation? Amnesia?” Jason asked.

“I’m sorry, but -”

“Do the more you kill, the more unworthy you become?” Damian asked, “Or until you hit a certain body count, it's a free-for-all?”

Thor sputtered. “Free-for-all?!”

“Or what if they were really bad people?” Jason asked. “Like other murderers? Pedophiles? Rapists? Drug dealers who sell to kids? If they did something wrong, would that cancel out your own wrongness?”

“These kids are hard-core,” Clint muttered.

“They raise a good point though,” Duke replied.

Tim nodded. “Ten Bucks its Damian who throws dear Thor off the edge.”

“Cass is feisty though.” Dick replied

Duke snorted. “Hah, never bet against Jason!”

All three exchanged handshakes.

“Okay,” Jason said, waving his arms about as he spoke with the utmost seriousness. “Does the way you kill affect how bad it is? Like would slowly and painfully bleeding to death be worse than a bullet to the head? Or say a sniper rifle compared to a handgun? Since one is more personal?”

Thor gaped at the young man.

“ Why kill.” Cassandra asked. “Told? Want? Accident?”

“What if it was to save yourself?” Damian asked. “If it was self-preservation, would that account for anything?”

“What if you were saving someone else?” Jason added. “Either directly, or just making the world a safer place?”

Thor frowned. “I do not speak for Mjolnir, but I assume all murder is murder.” The kids looked disappointed, so Thor continued. “However, if you wish to try to lift it, You have my permission to do so.”

“Naw, it's okay,” Jason said as the kids walked off looking dejected. “Doubt we could anyways, as Thor here just clarified.”

This caused the most uproar out of everything else in the conversation. Thor looked stricken, along with Peter, Bruce Banner, and Tony. Natasha and Clint looked at each other worriedly, Bruce Wayne, Tim, and Duke just rolled their eyes. And Steve was just confused.

“You kill?” Steve asked, as he started to worry if this universe was much more different than he had originally thought.

“Cassandra, Damian, and Jason had … unusual circumstances.” Bruce Wayne said simply. There was a silence after that. Then Bruce continued. “Well, we were about to start some sparring. If you’d like to join us, you are more than welcome to.”

Steve stood straight. He’d been looking forward to seeing them fight. “Sure,” he said as Tim, Dick and Duke exchanged ten dollar bils. “Sounds fun.”

#Avengers Meet The Batfam #dc/marvel crossover #batfam #batfam shenanigans #avengers #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #jason todd #batfamily shanigans #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #steve rogers #tony stark #clint barton #natasha romanov #bruce banner #thor odinson #peter parker

[your-turn-to-role]

hi okay i hate sending asks to people without knowing them but you seem kind so im trying: during the break, i’ve been working my way through VM, and i’m at episode 75. my question, because i’ve read some of your more recent meta, is “what’s Percy’s deal?” i know he’s loved by the fandom, but i can’t find myself relating to him, and i find his assertions that he’s the only one with a plan offputting. is there more context you can give to me about percy’s character that explains his motivations?

aww, thank you!

(and yeah, asks like this are totally fine, i totally get that anxiety, good job on sending this!)

i mean, first off, you don't have to like a character everyone else does? if you don't relate to percy you can just, not relate to percy, that's fine

(and to be fair, as much as i love him as a character, i would not want him as a friend, because he's a very flawed person that has a lot to work on, but in fiction those traits are interesting to watch rather than difficult to deal with)

but, percy's deal! the short answer is people generally like him because taliesin's funny and charismatic and he does morally grey right, which is rare and a fun thing to explore (also in his relationships with other people, the entire vex-vax-percy-keyleth square is full of neat parallels and opposites and interesting things and i have whole essays in my head on all six combos there)

i don’t know which posts you’ve read so i’ll link this one here too, just to cover a couple more of the generally unnoticed aspects of his character, and things i like about percy

he’s also far from perfect, as you’ve noted, he does tend to believe he’s the smartest person in any given room, because he’s young and clever and used to being that, which you’re allowed to find off putting, but i will say i find he does that less than a lot of characters of his general archetype? he listens to pike, he listens to keyleth, he listens to vex, he respects when they have more knowledge than him on a particular subject, he’s not above asking for help. and generally most of the arguments he has with keyleth on that subject aren’t him asserting he knows more than her, but more a matter of principles and values (they’re a really interesting pair that way, they have similar backgrounds, both children of royalty running away from the crown, but they’re such opposites. percy is a natural leader who would rather anyone rule than him, keyleth fumbles her way through all of it but sticks to it because she doesn’t want to let anyone down, percy is a pragmatist, keyleth is an idealist, they both are too focused on the big picture but in two completely different ways, i could write a whole other post on this, but to get to my point, they wouldn’t be such good balances for each other if percy didn’t absolutely respect where keyleth is coming from)

for the long answer, i’m gonna break this down into parts and try to get to the core of percy's character and why he is the way he is

(under the cut bc this gets long)

1 - heavy trauma

like... this is the really really big one. percy, at age 17 or 18, had his entire life up to that point completely destroyed. his family was killed, his friends were killed, people he trusted like family (professor anders, who was a more present figure in percy's life than his actual parents) betrayed him and helped the briarwoods, he was imprisoned in his own castle's dungeons and tortured for information, they threw his siblings' bodies in there with him to make a point, cassandra helped him escape but as far as he knew she died helping him. he has two years of his life after that he straight up doesn't remember, his hair turned white from the stress of it. 

trying to go after ripley the first time didn't work, he was captured and left to starve in a prison cell, for the first few months of travelling with vox machina he genuinely believed it wasn't real, because realistically no one was gonna come save him, this was just a hallucination of his dying mind. returning to whitestone he was forced to confront the fact that literally everyone he ever knew growing up (with the sole exception of archibald) was either dead or working with the briarwoods, and even after retaking the city there's a lot that can never be repaired. 

and he's just... never really dealt with any of this? like, he gave vox machina the technical details of what happened to him in the briarwood arc, because they needed to know that information, but the first time he actually started processing his trauma, the first time he admits it out loud to anyone, is the final episode of campaign one. before then it had been occasional snide or handwavey comments, and like, he'll let himself feel the anger over it (in the beginning of the story he encouraged it, because then he didn't have to feel anything else), but he's never processed the grief, never admitted to himself how badly that affected him

which means he's got a lot of pent up emotions in there that he just keeps burying, and sometimes they come out in unhealthy ways. having so much taken from him also makes him really motivated to keep the things he does have - he’s got some deep set abandonment issues and takes any kind of betrayal really badly, don’t know if you’ve got up to the scanlan stuff by the time i post this, but that’s something to keep in mind as to why he acts the way he does there. (and it’s not more explicit because percy was raised nobility, keeping a brave face through anything is part of who he is, he tends to cover emotions he’s insecure about in snark or indifference or, for the intense ones, anger, because those are the things he thinks he’s allowed to show, but the real emotions show up occasionally, when they’re particularly strong, or if you’re reading between the lines. he really does care a lot about vox machina)

2 - legacy and loyalty. 

speaking of nobility, it's hard to do a character study on percy without mentioning whitestone and the house of de rolo. this is the number one thing to percy. he was raised to respect title and name, and most importantly, raised to respect the people he represents - both the townsfolk of whitestone and also percy's ancestors and future de rolo generations. whitestone is more important than any one life, he has a duty to protect and serve it, and that comes before any personal wants he may have. it's also important to him for family reasons - he was a pretty lonely child, but he loved reading about the history of the city, all the weird ghost stories whitestone had even before the briarwoods. it probably made him feel more connected to all of that, this is the place he belongs. and after his family dies, it becomes even more important, because this is his connection to them. the soul of a city lives as long as its people, by protecting what's left, he keeps a little bit of what came before

(and also in just tidbits to understand percy's character, he sees all cities and man-made things the same way - in a world where some races live for centuries or millennia, their history exists mostly by word of mouth, you can physically talk to people who were around 500 years ago and get their take on things - humans don't have that, they get 100 years at most, so the things they build are vital to their heritage. this is how you keep people alive long after they're gone, by honouring what they created. and especially for someone so concerned with legacy and history, percy literally says abandoning westruun would be blasphemy, because the place people grew up is important, yes it's better that they live, but letting the city be abandoned and destroyed would be an irreparable act of violence.) 

this is the number one thing on percy's mind when evaluating anything about himself, where do i come from, and what do i leave behind? which is a question that has a lot of moments to be tested, because of my next point...

3 - pragmatism and terrible thoughts

when it comes down to it, percy is a very ends justify the means kind of person. he finds it very easy to square away any kind of collateral damage as long as it gets him to his end goal. see: trial of the take, where he's fine to catch his friends in the blast radius of a new bomb design because he's so excited that it worked, preparing to fight vorugal and resigning himself to potentially having to kill innocent people to kill the dragon (he wasn’t okay with that, but he would do it), also his conscious decision to let ripley go, knowing she would lead to the deaths of thousands because it was her or the briarwoods and he wanted revenge 

(this is by his own admission his lowest point and worst mistake, because as mentioned, he thinks about the consequences of his actions near constantly, he knew she would reproduce his guns and they would lead to a whole new form of warfare. but in that moment he was just blinded by grief and way too emotionally burnt out and did not have the capacity to care. and he spends the rest of the campaign and honestly probably the rest of his life trying to make up for that one)

he's also, by his own admission, someone who has a lot of bad thoughts he doesn't act on, he's very clever and creative and ideas for ways to use those skills for violence or vengeance come easily to him (like, percy as an actual villain would be ripley but worse, ripley's intelligent but a very direct point a to point b kind of thinker, percy has multiple times criticised her lack of imagination, a percy with her lack of morals would be terrifying)

(honestly this is why i was seeing percy so much in taliesin's narrative telephone, because "sometimes i wake up having dreamed of a terrible thing, and normally i just file that away for things that i would never do, because i wanna maintain friendships, but then LIAM did something to me." and the whole being absolutely fine with throwing the rest of the cast under the bus just to enact revenge on liam was quintessential percy)

but we’ve seen the pragmatic anti hero everywhere, anyone can be a terrible person, and have reasons for it, that alone doesn’t make an interesting character (at least not for me)

what does, is my last point

4 - trying to be good

i still vividly remember when i first watched campaign one, being really surprised at how much percy asked for help? like, i went in expecting the usual full on demon possession storyline, i expected percy to hide how bad it was, i expected him to make poor decisions without realising he was doing it until he was in too deep to back out

and like, he had some of that. but at the first sign of things being out of his control, he asked his friends for help. he let pike greater restoration him. he told vax to kill him if things ever got too out of hand. he was really, genuinely scared about what he got himself into and what he might do because of it. there was never a point where he pretended, even to himself, that making a deal with orthax was okay. the minute he realised there was a demon involved, he was working to stop it. and yeah, by the time he realised it was already a bit too late, there were already some things out of his control (and also taliesin kept having the worst rolls against the whitestone corruption which was really fun on a meta level), which is how things got as bad as they did. but honestly, all things considered, there’s very little to criticise about the way percy handled himself in the briarwood arc. 

and he keeps doing that, trying to get better. he struggles with it, he struggles a lot, against his anger issues, against all the trauma, against the fact that he really doesn’t want to be here and things would be so much easier if he were dead. but he recognises he holds grudges too easily, so he starts actively trying to forgive those who’ve wronged him (this is something he and vex have in common, and something they were working on together before they were together, which probably helped a lot in getting them to that point as well). he recognises he makes poor decisions when he’s angry, so he starts learning to step back in those moments and leave the decisions to someone else. he has never not owned up to his mistakes, he takes responsibility for everything he’s done, and if he notices a problem he can’t solve himself, he asks for help.

and i find that fun to explore. like, percy’s been likened to hamlet in the actual show, and i was the kid who got super obsessed with hamlet when i was like 15 because i was in that same mental space of suicidal self hatred and existential melancholy but also thinking i was the smartest person in any given room and being too young to have gotten over the arrogance that makes you ignore everyone else’s needs for the sake of indulging your own problems. and then i got older and realised there are smarter ways to go about things, like having empathy and appreciating the light in the world and not being a dickhead to people because it makes you feel better, and maybe hamlet can be justified and in the wrong at the same time. and while there’s some stuff i won’t spoil for you, percy after ripley kills him is definitely starting to learn that, which you rarely see in the hamlet archetype, bc everyone’s like “ah yes so Deep so Important who cares what bad things this person did they had Trauma and are Clever”

well, percy cares about the bad things he did, and cares about not doing those anymore. so like, he’s still a disaster of a person bc he’s like 23 and no one has their life together at 23, especially not someone in percy’s situation, and honestly i find that fun to watch as well bc i like watching characters make stupid mistakes and do stuff i’d never approve of in real life, and as i mentioned at the start, taliesin makes captivating and funny characters. but yeah, that’s generally where percy’s at, most of the time

#would you believe me if i said this was the second shorter attempt at answering this ask? #i honestly tried to pare it down but this hit at least 6 or 7 separate essays in my head that all wanted to be included #and then i had to figure out how to combine them #my brain keeps giving me more things i should add but i think this is enough to be going on with for now 😂 #but hey anyone who likes listening to me talk about percy know i can keep going #this is my word MINIMUM #(and it's still over 2k im so sorry) #but yeah hope this helped! #cr1 #percy de rolo #cr thoughts #text #meta #ask #megabees3

[elsanna-shenanigans]

August Contest Submission #13: Icy Justice And Poisonous Roses

Words: ca. 4,500 Setting: Modern AU (Superheroes) Lemon: No CW: graphic violence, mentioned character death, trauma, acid burns, enemies to lovers, poisons

Elsa wasn’t a fan of these formal gatherings. Not that she didn’t enjoy a good party or enjoy dressing up, but mainly because of the sorts of people that were usually in attendance. People who cared more about the money in their pockets than the betterment of others.

Still, Elsa was the most eligible woman in the city and probably the richest woman in this room, so she had to keep up appearances, lest people suspect what she did in the hours she wasn’t running her company or attending gatherings such as this.

She stood by the window, gazing down at Arendelle City, wondering if she was doing enough for this city. Granted, things had gotten better, police reforms, elimination of the more corrupt members of the city’s elite, but still there was suffering in the streets and for every supervillain locked away, someone more powerful and dangerous likely took their place.

It was a long war, a war that Elsa often wondered the point of fighting for. But then she remembered her parents, of the man who had taken them from her, the pain that had caused her, pain that had awoken the power within her.

“Enjoying the view?” a voice spoke to Elsa.

Elsa turned around, seeing an acquaintance of hers, Hans Westerguard, walk over to her, offering her a glass of champagne. She should have been talking to him more tonight, what with this being the fundraiser for his mayoral campaign and Elsa being a major donor.

Hans wasn’t exactly a perfect individual, but considering he was running against candidates that were a mob boss who posed as a philanthropist and a businesswoman who Elsa knew had been supplying tech and resources to supervillains, he was the lesser of three evils.

He had a good sense of justice about him, being the current district attorney. Though, Elsa had hoped he could do more with his position. She hoped that by donating so much to his campaign, she might be able to sway him to enact more progressive policies once he was in office.

Though of course, he had to get into office first.

“Oh, Hans,” Elsa replied, fiddling with her braid and blushing a little. She was good at putting on a shy, flustered dork act, a deliberate act to play up her more casual nature in her secret identity. “I didn’t see you there.”

“You seemed to be staring off into space there,” Hans remarked. “Care for a drink?”

“No, I’m driving myself home tonight,” Elsa responded.

“Really?” Hans remarked. “I’d have figured you’d have gotten your butler to handle it.”

“Kai has the night off, visiting some old girlfriend of his,” Elsa explained. Kai had been working himself too hard down in Elsa’s hideout of late, so she’d given him the night off.

“Fair enough,” Hans admitted, walking up beside her. “So… what do you suspect my chances are?”

“Of what?”

“Winning the election.”

“Oh,” Elsa said. “Well, the election isn’t for another month or so Hans. There’s still plenty of time to go.”

“Yes, but as you’re my largest donor, you must have a lot of faith in me,” Hans stated, looking smugly.

Elsa rolled her eyes. She had to at least humour the man. “Well, since you asked so nicely… I think you’re the city’s best chance. You’ve actually got policies that seem to be what the city needs. The others just want to uphold the status quo that has caused so many innocent people to suffer.”

“Why thank you.” Hans said, sipping his drink “Though I think an endorsement from that wonderful hero Fenris would probably seal the deal for me in this election.”

Elsa chuckled. “I don’t think superheroes are meant to give that sort of political statement.”

“True, but she’s done more good for this city in the last three years than anyone else… well except…” The two of them then saw a woman with short dark hair and wearing a rather snazzy tuxedo walking towards them. Though she didn’t exactly look very comfortable here.

“Commissioner Espinosa, good to see you here!”

“Westergard,” the commissioner replied flatly.

Elsa smiled. Cassandra Espinosa was one of Elsa’s closest friends, one of the few people she shared her secret with. Despite Cassandra being a policewoman, she was actually living up to what a police officer should be, not someone who gleefully enacted brutality on innocent people, values much more like those of her father, the previous commissioner.

“Enjoying the party?” Hans wondered. “You must not get a chance like this often other than maybe the annual policeman’s ball.”

“To tell you the truth, I’m only here because we got a tip earlier that someone might be targeting you tonight,” Cass stated. “You have pretty lax security here.”

“Cass, I’ve helped to put away some of the nastiest criminals in this city, I’ve learned to live with people wanting to kill me. One more threat against my life isn’t going to change that.”

“Mr Westerguard?” someone called to him from the crowd. “The governor wants to talk to you!”

“Oh, excellent,” Hans replied. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me.”

As Hans left, Elsa and Cassandra stood alone, Cass leaning against the wall and sighing. Elsa leaned close to her, wanting to give her friend some reassurance.

“Good man, but I wish he’d look out for himself more,” she remarked. “Anything on your end, Els?”

“Not exactly,” Elsa admitted. “I’m starting to think tonight might be a quiet night for once.” She smirked playfully. “At least you got to wear your tux again.”

“Yeah well, take a look while it lasts,” Cass grumbled.

“I know my cousin would,” Elsa remarked. “Surprised Raps isn’t with you tonight.”

“Yeah well, after what happened the last time I took her out,” Cass remarked. “I figured it best she stayed at home.”

Elsa sighed. Cassandra was dating her cousin and childhood best friend Rapunzel. A few months back, while the two were on a date, a sniper hired by a mob boss had tried to assassinate Cassandra. They’d failed, but Rapunzel had been gravely injured. Elsa didn’t blame her for wanting to keep her cousin safe.

“Still, aren’t you two planning to tie the knot soon?” Elsa wondered. “You’ve been together long enough.”

“I… I don’t know,” Cass admitted. “It’s hard finding a good balance between her and my work. I’m worried marriage might… complicate things.”

“I know how you feel,” Elsa replied. “It’s why I’ve honestly never had much luck with relationships myself.” That was a lie. There was one woman in the world she still loved… though she was partly ashamed to admit it, even to Cassandra.

Suddenly, the entire building started to shake. Elsa thought there was an earthquake and quickly grabbed onto something. There was panic and commotion across the ballroom, Cassandra grabbing onto a nearby wall for support. Screams and cries filled the room.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Cass shouted.

Elsa tried to reach for her watch, but she found there was no need to, as she then saw several large vines rising up from the side of the building pressing against the windows. She gasped, looking straight at Cass in terror as a dark shadow overwhelmed them.

“CASS LOOK OUT!” Elsa shouted, tackling Cass to the ground as the vine crashed through the window.

All across the ballroom, there was utter chaos as the gigantic vines smashed into the room, knocking people over left and right, firmly entrenching themselves into the walls of the building.

In the middle of the room, the largest of the gigantic vines smashed through the window, a gigantic flower at its tip. As it stopped in its tracks, the large flower burst open, releasing a gas that caused all those around it to cough and splutter. Through the smoke, a figure emerged from the blooming pink flower, a rather revealing woman in a skintight pink and purple outfit with green highlights and long red hair.

“Rosethorn,” Cass whispered.

Elsa blushed and looked away. Anna… why now…

“You gonna deal with her?” Cass wondered.

Nodding reluctantly, Elsa looked at Cass. “Try and keep her distracted, but don’t hurt her too bad… she’s still my sister.”

“Elsa, she’s trying to kill people!” Cass argued in a hushed whisper.

“I can see that but she’s still family!” Elsa rasped.

Cass grumbled. “You know if she was my sister, I wouldn’t hesitate but fine, I’ll make sure I won’t do any permanent damage to her.”

“Thank you,” Elsa said gratefully, before she quickly ran out of the room, Cass pulling her pistol from her pocket.

Elsa rushed out of the bathroom, making her way through the panicking, scared crowds. As she arrived in the room, she looked at herself in the mirror, making sure she was alone.

To think that tonight she’d have to face her sister again. The two sisters had always been close as children, virtually inseparable. But that all had changed one fateful night. Her wealthy parents had taken Elsa out to see a movie, but Anna had to stay home and do her homework.

Anna had been spared in a way, as on their way home from the movies, Elsa and her parents were attacked by a mugger. The mugger had killed their parents without a second thought, gunning them down. In a rage… something had awoken inside of Elsa, a power that no other human had.

As she got older, she learned how to control this power, a power to manipulate ice and snow to her whim. She soon discovered that some people had the rare chance of being born with such powers, people who were later dubbed Metahumans. While Elsa’s had been the power to control ice, Anna’s power was somewhat different.

A few months after the funeral, Elsa had discovered Anna’s powers had awakened as well, the power to control plants and other forms of vegetation. As elated as Anna was at using her new powers, Elsa was worried about her, about them both. At this time, Elsa had decided to hone her powers and train herself in the arts of combat and science so she might one day fight to protect the innocent people of Arendelle City, so that no other child would go through what she and Anna had.

Anna on the other hand… was a different story. Her plant-based powers had made her infatuated with nature. At first, Elsa was glad that Anna was using her love for nature to cope with her parents’ grief. But as they got older, Anna started to get more involved in environmental work.

More than once, Elsa had to bail Anna out of jail for getting involved in protests and the like. She worried Anna was going down a dark path. Yes, protecting the environment was a noble goal… but Anna seemed obsessed. And then one night, Elsa’s worst fears were confirmed when she found Anna attempting to strangle the CEO of one of her business partners.

“Anna let him go!”

“No, he has to pay! All their kind have to pay! They’re choking the planet to death, Elsa, and no one is doing a damn thing about it!”

“And that justifies you being a murderer?!”

“Why do you care? I thought you’d be happy seeing scum like this die, after what happened to our parents!”

“What?! Anna, No!”

And then Anna had used her vine to snap the man’s neck. A fight broke out between them, Elsa blasting Anna with her ice powers… and leaving a permanent mark in the form of a white streak in her hair. Elsa looked down, wondering when this nightmare would end.

She loved Anna, she always had… but at this point she had to accept that her sister was truly dead, replaced by a monster that now called herself Rosethorn.

Pressing a button on her watch, Elsa watched it transform into a device that released dozens of tiny nanobots that she then rearranged and merged with her ice, forming a wolf-themed armour and long cape that completed concealed her body, the symbol of her alter ego, Fenris appearing on her chest.

Elsa looked at her masked face in the mirror, glaring sternly. “This will be the last friend of mine you hurt, Anna. I swear it.”

———————————————————————————-

Anna grinned wickedly as she sat on her throne of vines as her large tendrils wrapped themselves around the building, bursting through the windows of the ballroom. She watched as the pitiful humans ran in fear, taking a certain delight in what was happening.

Rich fools. Their kind loved to pollute and terrorise the environment, now they would know what it was like to be terrorised. The large pods on the side of the vine that Anna was riding on burst open, releasing toxic gas into the room that caused those surrounding the tendril to cough and splutter.

But while watching the humans suffer was delightful, she had a more important goal in mind, one of these pathetic fools in particular. Hans Westerguard was running for his life, trying to make it to a nearby door. However, Anna sent one of her vines forward, blocking his path.

"Now where are you off to, Mr Westerguard?” Anna sultrily remarked, getting off her throne. “We have important business to discuss.”

Hans turned, realising he’d have to hold her off. “What do you want, Anna?”

“Why, my dear, you of course,” Anna said, stroking the underside of his chin with her gloved hand. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”

“Look, Anna, I know I’ve made mistakes, but this isn’t right?”

“Isn’t right?!” Anna yelled. “Oh, it is very much right, Mr Distrct Attourney. You lined your pockets with all the greedy fuckers in this town who destroy and pollute the earth around you, who tore up innocent grassland to build a Metahuman prison where I was tortured!”

“They were trying to help you!”

“Help me?! I don’t need help!” Anna growled, wrapping tendrils around his neck. “I’ve dedicated my life to protecting this planet and all of its natural beauty. If that’s so wrong, then I’d prefer not to be right.”

Hans choked and gagged, struggling to breathe. “Anna… Ack!”

“What’s that Hans? I can’t quite hear you over the innocent people you’ve stepped on!” Anna growled. Suddenly, she heard a loud gunshot. A bullet flew through the air and pierced one of the tendrils around Hans’s neck. Anna screamed, feeling the pain like it was one of her own limbs as Hans was freed.

Cassandra, along with a few other out of uniform police officers and security guards, had arrived, taking aim at Anna with their pistols. “Come quietly, Rosethorn!”

“You’d protect him, officers?!” Anna remarked. “Such a deplorable monster who would be better off locked up in jail?”

“Look who’s talking, red,” Cass growled. “Put down the tentacles and I promise you, you won’t get hurt.”

“Dear, dear commissioner,” Anna chuckled. “I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. However

"Then, I’ll take you out as well!” Anna roared, sending another flurry of vines at the officers, the ends of the tendrils opening into mouths full of razor-sharp teeth.

The vines disarmed the other officers quickly, one of them literally disarming one man, spewing blood all over the ground from the severed limb. Not wanting to suffer the same fate, Cass quickly ducked out of the way, unloading a few bullets from her pistol into two of the vines.

However, she wasn’t fast enough, as a third quickly rushed up behind her. But Cass could be attacked by the vine, a blast of icy wind quickly froze the tentacles and a sharp sword made of a mix of ice and metal quickly slashed them apart. Fenris then stood, her wolf-like appearance and glowing blue visor making for an intimidating look.

“Ah, my dear arch enemy,” Anna said with a laugh. “Figured you’d be coming to the rescue of the oppressors.”

“The only person oppressing people is you, Rosethorn,” Fenris stated, pulling out her sword. She looked over at Hans, who was stumbling to his feet. “You alright, Mr Westerguard?”

“Fine, now that you’re here,” he groaned.

Rosethorn cackled. “I think it’s time I dealt with you first, my frozen foe. Let’s see if this will melt your icy armour!” She then sent out one of her tendrils behind Elsa, which shot out a glob of acid.

Hans’s eyes widened. “Look out!” He yelled, to which Elsa was barely able to react in time. Hans then leapt in the path of the glob of acid… and was struck in the face. He screamed and cried out in pain, writhing on the floor as the acid melted his face.

“Hans!” Fenris exclaimed, rushing to his side. She was almost sick at the sight of the injuries on Hans’s face.

“Oh well, I doubt he’ll be running for office anytime soon,” Anna remarked as she jumped onto one of her tendrils. “Time for me to make like a tree and leaf.”

Elsa turned to look at Anna, then she gazed down at Hans, who was still in agony. Cassandra rushed to Hans’s side, looking up at her.

“Go after her, I’ll take care of Hans and the wounded,” she reassured her.

“Thank you,” Elsa replied, before she then got up and rushed after Anna, the latter’s tentacles retracting from the building and coalescing into some kind of gigantic tentacled plant creature that leapt across the rooftops. Elsa stared at the Lovecraftian horror that Anna was controlling, wondering how powerful Anna was now.

Leaping from the window, Elsa used her ice powers to alter the shape of her cape into a pair of icy wings and activated jet boosters in her boots that sent her flying through the sky after Anna. Summoning her ice sword, she slashed through one of the tentacles.

Anna cried out as her creature rocked about from the loss of one of its limbs. “Gah!!”

“Take this!” Elsa shouted, blasting the tentacled creature with her powers. The creature managed to dodge the attack and one of its tendrils wrapped around Elsa, throwing her down onto a nearby rooftop. Anna then leapt down from her creature, summoning blades made of thorns that she slashed at Elsa with.

Elsa brought out her ice sword again, clashing it against Anna’s blade. Anna summoned her tentacles again, trying to attack Elsa with them. Elsa turned around, quickly taking out all the tentacles with ice spikes that brought Anna to her knees with pain, as Elsa quickly blasted her tentacle creature apart with an icy blast.

Reeling from the pain, Anna then screamed in agony her eyes glowing a sickening green as a gigantic tendril burst from the ground beneath them, quickly wrapping around Elsa tightly. The blonde tried to fight, but this tendril’s grip was much tighter, Anna pouring all her strength into it.

“How about a little spin!” Anna cried out, commanding her tentacle to spin Elsa round and round as fast as it could, before launching her into the sky. Elsa screamed as she was flung across an entire city block. She eventually landed though, crashing into an abandoned building a few streets away, smashing through a window.

As she rolled on the floor in pain, Elsa grunted. “Damage report.”

“Nanosuit integrity at 65%,” her suits onboard computer reported. “Minor external and internal injuries, recommend evasive action.”

“No way,” Elsa argued. “Anna’s madness ends tonight one way or another.”

“Where are you?~” Anna called out in a sing-songy voice. Elsa grunted, and rushed into a nearby stairwell, cloaking her retreat with an icy mist. She headed down a nearby stairwell, panting heavily. She was still shaken up from the impact, but she needed to get away from Anna.

If she could lull Anna into a false sense of security, she could jump her and take her out easily. But of course, she needed the essence of surprise first. She looked in the corner of her eyes, watching Anna’s tentacles quickly rushing down the stairs. She ducked into another room to avoid them.

Using the technology in her mask, Elsa scanned the building around her. This was once an office building, which meant large open rooms, not many places to hide.

“Don’t think you can hide from me for long, ” she heard Anna’s voice again. “I’ll always find you, my dear sister.”

Elsa didn’t respond, merely continuing to scan the room. Eventually, she managed to find herself an air vent. It didn’t take much effort to freeze the grate and smash it apart so she could climb inside. Crawling up the vent, Elsa rested and panted. Anna likely wouldn’t be able to find her here.

“What’s the matter, Elsa?” Anna remarked. “Nothing to say to your dear sister?”

“My sister is dead!” Elsa shouted, crawling down the air vent.

“Yeah right, keep telling yourself that,” Anna told her. “You should be grateful I haven’t blown your secret identity by now.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Because I still carry a torch for you, Elsa,” Anna argued. “Hell, part of me once hoped we could do this together, make the world pay for what it’s done. To itself… to us.”

“I’m not a killer,” Elsa replied, crawling further. She looked through her visor, seeing that Anna was directly in the room below her, vines surrounding her. She had the element of surprise now.

“Neither was Hans, yet he’s just as guilty as one, what with his connections and dirty money,” Anna argued. “No one in this world is innocent, Elsa.”

“Says the woman who just burned a man’s face off with acid!” Elsa argued, crashing through a nearby vent right behind Anna. She rushed up with her ice sword and slashed at Anna, razor-sharp thorns then extending from Anna’s gloves to act as Claws. The two sisters fought one another.

It was surprising how evenly matched they were. Elsa had trained herself to the physical peak, while Anna had enhanced her own strength and agility thanks to her many, many plant-based serums. However, in this particular round, Anna was able to get the upper hand, as her tentacles managed to knock Elsa back, smashing her mask apart. Before it could regenerate, Anna slashed Elsa’s face with her claws.

Elsa grunted as she clutched her cheek in pain, blood oozing from it. Her suit was much too damaged at this point to start regenerating itself, leaving her at Anna’s mercy.

“Don’t think of trying to move, Elsa,” Anna replied, walking closer to her. “My thorns were tipped with poison. Not strong enough to kill you, mind you, oh no, I don’t want to kill my beautiful sister. But it’ll make you as weak as a kitten.”

Tentacles wrapped around Elsa, restraining her to the floor. The tentacles pressed against Elsa’s face, forcing her to look up as Anna stood above her. Elsa felt her heart beating as she gazed at Anna. As she looked into Anna’s eyes, she was reminded of her sister.

How beautiful and sweet she was, how much she wanted to protect her and love her, more than a sister would. But that was a lifetime ago. And yet… part of her wanted this, a part of herself that ashamed Elsa. Anna leaned in, caressing Elsa’s cheek, bringing her face closer and closer.

“You want this, don’t you?” she whispered. “You can still be a hero with me, Elsa. Only you’ll be a hero who actually makes a difference instead of upholding the pathetic status quo.”

“I won’t become… a murderer!” Elsa spat, Anna retreating.

“Why are you so against killing?!” Anna shouted. “Just accept that for things to be right in the world, some people just have to die! The corrupt CEOs, the politicians who line their pockets with dirty money while they let corporations pollute the planet!”

“There are laws, Anna!” Elsa argued. “They can be held accountable for their crimes!”

“And how often does that happen?” Anna replied. “Sure, you’re making change, but it’s not fast enough. The planet is already choking to death and in order to save it, more… radical action must be taken.”

“You don’t think I don’t know that, Anna!” Elsa argued.

“Then why don’t you do something about it!” Anna shouted.

“Because…” Elsa stopped herself.

“Because what?”

Elsa looked down. She had never shared this with Anna, this secret she’d kept buried for all these years. But if she was going to die here… then she should die with Anna knowing how much she never wanted this, for either of them.

“Because… I know what it’s like to feel tempted to take such action,” Elsa replied. “Because I’ve…. I’ve killed before.”

“That’s a lie,” Anna argued. “You said it yourself that you aren’t a killer.”

“No, *that* was the lie,” Elsa insisted. “Do you… do you know what happened to the person who shot our parents, Anna?”

“He… He got away,” Anna said, her voice shaky. “You said the cops found no sign of him. It’s… It’s what started me down this path, of wanting to get my own sense of justice.”

“I… I lied to the police, Anna,” Elsa expressed. “That night, after that bastard shot our parents, something inside of me awoke, something powerful… I lashed out at the guy as he ran and I… I froze him solid and he shattered before my eyes, Anna. The moment I first used my powers… I killed someone.”

“I…” Anna was stunned by the revelation.

“I regretted it, I didn’t want to indulge in the anger that I felt that night,” Elsa expressed. “I didn’t want to become a mindless monster, a killer. I’d be no better than the man I killed, perpetuating an endless cycle of violence. That’s why I did my best to stop you going down that path.”

“And… I failed,” Anna realised, tearing up. “All this time… I thought you didn’t understand me, that you thought I was crazy… but in reality, you cared about me more than anyone.”

“I even pleaded against the rough torture you had in prison,” Elsa expressed. “They wouldn’t listen to me. Don’t you get it, Anna? I love you, more than anyone else in the world… but I can’t let you hurt anyone ever again.”

“I… I love you too,” Anna whispered. She started to cry more and with a flick of her wrist, her vines let Elsa go. “Please… just go.”

“Anna… I can’t go,” Elsa argued. “I need to bring you in.”

“No, I won’t go back to prison again!” Anna argued. “Why can’t anyone have seen that I was doing good… why didn’t you try and help me!” She broke down in tears and wrapped her arms around Elsa. Her villainous persona had completely broken and for the first time in years, Elsa saw her sister again.

Wrapping her arms around Anna, Elsa stroked her sister’s hair, listening to the sound of Anna’s shaky breathing as she held her. God, she hadn’t held Anna like this in… well she’d honestly forgotten it was so long. But to have Anna, her Anna, let her do this… it felt rewarding to her.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” Anna whispered. “I’ve been such a fool… I’ve been going at this so wrong.”

“Shhhh,” Elsa whispered, going fully into her big sister mode. “Everything’s gonna be okay… I’m going to be right here, Anna, like I’ve always been.”

Anna pulled away and the two sisters gazed into each other’s eyes, holding one another close. Both of them felt gravity pulling them together, part of them knowing that they needed the other now. Yes, they had been enemies… but now, perhaps they were something different.

And then… Elsa and Anna leaned in and shared a tender, passionate kiss. Neither of them knew what was in for the two of them next, but at this moment, all they wanted was to be together, as they kept kissing in the light of the moon shimmering through a nearby window, tears streaming down both of their cheeks.

#elsanna #submission #august 2021 contest #prompt: flowers #cw: graphic violence #cw: character death #cw: trauma #CW: acid burns #CW: poison

[pervocracy]

One opinion about almost every episode of Doctor Who that I’ve watched

spoilers, although they’re mostly from like 2005

An Unearthly Child: Whoa, they nailed the theme song right from the get-go!

Rose: The Doctor’s speech about feeling the Earth turning under his feet was chilling, and I think about it a lot in moments later in the series when he’s being goofy and casual.

The End of the World: They spent a lot of money on this one--costumes, effects, even licensed music--to prove to everyone that This Ain’t Your Daddy’s Doctor Who.

The Unquiet Dead: I realize saying “every myth is actually aliens” is kind of the Brand, but this one came off particularly strongly “we wrote a Victorian ghost story but then the boss said it had to be aliens so okay, fine, they’re fuckin’... alien ghosts.”

Aliens of London: “Being the Doctor’s companion will completely destroy your life” is a surprisingly grim running theme in the series.  Every companion eventually brings grief to their friends and families, in one way or another.

World War Three: Rose returning to the TARDIS as a conscious decision, bags packed and ready for adventure, is adorable.  The show implies that certain people are just made to be companions to the Doctor, and Rose is one of them.

Dalek: It was an interesting choice to introduce the Dalek as sympathetic and pitiful, and at the same time one of the most brutal killers on the show.  And at the same time, it’s still a ridiculous-looking thing with a toilet plunger for an arm.

The Long Game: Hey! That’s Simon Pegg!  He looks weird with blond hair!  Hi Simon Pegg!  I’m waving at the TV!

Father’s Day: I only watched this one once.  Couldn’t deal with the feelings.

The Empty Child: Stephen Moffat was so good when he wasn’t allowed to take over the whole show so he actually had to write stories with endings!

The Doctor Dances: And what a glorious ending it is!  Everybody lives, Rose!  Just this once, EVERYBODY LIVES!

Boom Town: The Doctor’s dinner with the Slitheen, and their cold deconstruction of each other’s brutality, is one hell of a scene considering the silliness of the setup.

Bad Wolf: Today on Shit You Did Not Expect: a... The Weakest Link crossover?  Really?  Really.  They play The Weakest Link with a penis-headed robot who blasts people with her laser eyes.  And then they’re on Big Brother!  Hey!  My dad worked on that!  I don’t think he was actually part of this episode though.

The Parting of the Ways: Rose doesn’t look or act like she’d make a fearsome demigod.  Which makes it much more powerful when she does.

The Christmas Invasion: “Who is this weird new guy?  I’ll never get used to him being the Doctor!” -me, for about 5 seconds before falling completely and permanently in love with Ten

New Earth: This one is so much fun! Rose and the Doctor are so adorably playful with each other, and then they get to do some incredibly goofy bodyswap acting, and then even Cassandra gets to have a sweet, humanity-affirming ending.

Tooth and Claw: So you’ve got a Scottish actor who normally fakes an English accent, pretending to be faking a Scottish accent, then pretending to forget to fake a Scottish accent and “slipping” into an English accent again.  Meanwhile I can’t even speak with a Massachusetts accent and I was born here.

School Reunion: “I couldn’t bear to watch you grow old and die” is a bullshit excuse for ditching a companion, coming from a guy whose entire personality essentially-dies every time he has a contract dispute or “creative differences.”

The Girl in the Fireplace: “Every time I travel through the time portals, several years pass for Reinette.  Too bad I have no pattern recognition abilities!”

Rise of the Cybermen: I’m glad Mickey finally gets an episode where he’s not just a barely-wanted tagalong.  He was on the verge of becoming the Xander Harris of this show.

The Age of Steel: Noel Clarke’s “I’m two people” acting is so good!  You can see whether he’s Mickey or Ricky in each shot with a glance, just from his facial expression.

The Idiot’s Lantern: ahahaha look at their hair in this episode

The Impossible Planet: I’m glad they came back to the Ood later, because it’s rather unpleasant how the Doctor in this one kinda shrugs off “so these people are keeping slaves, what’re you gonna do, cultural differences and all that.”

The Satan Pit: Making literal Satan the bad guy here is adorable.  It’s like something you’d see on 60s Star Trek, but no, it’s happening in our modern CGI-enhanced post-irony Golden Age Of TV world.  A man in a spacesuit is yelling at a giant red devil that just growls back at him and it’s all very serious drama.  I love this show.

Love & Monsters: This is the one where a girl gets turned into a paving slab but then her boyfriend announces that it’s okay because they’re still having sex.  Yeah.  That happened.

Fear Her: I think this one’s mostly filler

Army of Ghosts: There’s just way too much going on here.  We’ve got ghosts and Cybermen and Torchwood and Daleks and a parallel universe and... anyway I think the concept of using those flimsy paper 3D glasses as a magical item is kind of adorable.

Doomsday: ROSE!  ROSE NO!  COME BACK!  ROOOSE!!!

The Runaway Bride: Catherine Tate is so good!  I’m so glad they brought her back!

Smith and Jones: I love that Martha immediately distinguishes herself as a potential companion by being excited instead of terrified that they’ve been teleported to the moon.  She doesn’t even know how they have air, but she’s already like “sweet! an Adventure!”

The Shakespeare Code: By theater nerds, for theater nerds, probably insufferable to everyone else, but theater nerds have long been comfortable with that.

Gridlock: It feels a little too Socially Responsible how the Doctor and Martha are immediately and violently anti-drug.  This world has patches that bring you magical joy with no apparent side effects, and instead of being curious about it the way they usually are about future technology, they just go straight to “SAY NOPE TO DOPE, KIDS!!!”

Daleks in Manhattan: Having Daleks use the old-school pepperpot design and robot-screamy-voices in the modern series is like putting nipples and a codpiece on the Batsuit in The Dark Knight.  Which is to say, it’s brilliant and I love it.

Evolution of the Daleks: too much plot, I’m sleepy

The Lazarus Experiment: I cannot believe multiple adults saw the wig Mark Gatiss wears in this episode and agreed that would be okay.

42: I really like these self-contained episodes that don’t set up any big arcs or prophesies or personal dramas.  There’s just a ticking clock, a mystery, a spaceship, and a whole lot of running up and down hallways whilst shouting.

Human Nature: Hey, it’s Jojen Reed as an uncanny psychic child!  And Viserys Targaryen as a sadistic upper-class brat!

The Family of Blood: Man, the Doctor really dicked Martha over with this one.  “You’re going to be a domestic servant, because you’re black!  And I’m going to turn myself into an old-timey racist who doesn’t know who you are!  And yet somehow you’re supposed to be in charge of making sure I carry out all my plans!”

Blink: This is a perfect episode of television.

Utopia:💖😍🥰😘 jack harkness i love you 😘🥰😍💖

The Sound of Drums: “Menacing goofiness” is a strange place for an actor to aim, but damn if John Simm doesn’t hit it.

Last of the Time Lords: “I’ve been traveling around the world, fomenting resistance and spreading hope... in the idea that the Doctor is magic and can fix everything by himself.  That’s what resistance to fascism is, right?  Just throwing all your resources in with a different all-powerful authority-father-savior figure?”

Voyage of the Damned: Giving the Doctor a one-off temporary companion, and expecting people to care about her as much as Rose or Martha, doesn’t really work.  “Oh no, she’s dying.  Not whatserface. Oh no.”

Partners in Crime: I love that they’re giving the Doctor a companion who doesn’t have any kind of psychosexuromantic entanglement with him, but is really just a friend.  I love that they’re giving the Doctor a companion who’s (by actors’ ages, at least) older than him.  ...Oh shit, is it bad that these are the same one?

The Fires of Pompeii: “I wish we could save the people of Pompeii, but I am powerless to change this part of history... oh wait, no, I’ll save this one random family on a whim.  Guess I could change history after all!  Sorry, other 20,000 people who are still getting volcanoed to death!”

Planet of the Ood: “The companion is the Doctor’s conscience” is always true, but Donna really owns it.  She spares no time for pretending that “oh but what if the Ood are supposed to be slaves” is an interesting argument.

The Sontaren Strategem: Another one of those “too much plot for me” episodes.  I’m a simple man; just give me a monster and a hallway to run down.

The Poison Sky: ditto

The Doctor’s Daughter: It’s weird that they got married in real life.  Like, their actual age difference is within the half-plus-seven rule, and she wasn’t even really his daughter daughter on the show, but, like, it’s still a little tiny bit weird.

The Unicorn and the Wasp: I guess if I read Agatha Christie books I would understand some of these references?

Silence in the Library: Holy shit, this one is scary.  I don’t hide behind the couch often watching Doctor Who, but... “Hey, who turned out the lights?”

Forest of the Dead: River’s speech about “when the wind stands fair and the Doctor comes to call, everybody lives” is self-indulgent Stephen Moffat hooey and a blatant repeat from “The Doctor Dances” but I’ve got goosebumps anyway.

Midnight: Wow.  You don’t really expect to be using the phrase “a gut-punch of an episode” about the same series that was just playing Detective Funtimes With Agatha Christie, but this was a gut-punch of an episode.

Turn Left: I’ve rewatched a lot of these, but I couldn’t watch this one more than once because I felt so sad about Wilfred. Something in his performance is just wrenching.

The Stolen Earth: I couldn’t watch this one more than once because it’s hard to summon up the energy to follow the “let’s throw everything that’s ever happened onto the show into this stew” plotline.

Journey’s End: HOW DARE YOU DO DONNA LIKE THAT.  HOW DARE YOU.

The Next Doctor: Hey!  That’s not Matt Smith!  I thought it was gonna be Matt Smith.

Planet of the Dead: The Doctor without a permanent companion is always an uncomfortable dynamic.  Both because he needs a conscience/foil/audience-surrogate, and because otherwise we have to go through the “the Doctor is the perfect boyfriend who always breaks your heart” narrative all over again every damn episode.

The Waters of Mars: I like when the Doctor isn’t a good person.  When he gets all arrogant and inhuman and at moments even sinister, that’s far more interesting than when he’s a straightforward hero.

The End of Time: Look, I loved David Tennant’s run on this show.  He’s my favorite Doctor and my imaginary boyfriend.  If there’s anyone I don’t mind watching get a bit self-indulgent, it’s Ten.  But even from this perspective, I think it was not a good idea to let him spend a half hour dying while crying piteously and also somehow touring his entire history on the show.  It really was not.

The Eleventh Hour:  This feels like the first episode of an entirely new show.  There’s very little in characters or plotlines (or writers or producers) connecting it to anything that happened before.  The sense of a fresh start is nice, but this literally is not the same show I enjoyed before.

The Beast Below: Oh.  It’s a space whale.  That’s cool I guess.  This show is okay and everything, but there’s no way I would have really gotten into it if I’d started watching here.

Victory of the Daleks: Upon reading the Wikipedia summary of this episode, I realized that I had, in fact, watched it.

The Time of Angels: “Blink” was, as I said, perfect.  But not because the Angels are the greatest enemy ever devised; they’re creepy and all, but most of the fun in “Blink” comes from the meticulously satisfying construction of the time loops.  Taking that element out, and just making the Angels into generic boogeymen, was a terrible idea.

Flesh and Stone: Oh god, there’s so many mediocre Eleven episodes.  Don’t get me wrong, Matt Smith is great.  I don’t blame him.  But I’m just not feeling the energy to go through every one of these damn things anymore.

[...]

Let’s Kill Hitler: This is the one that finally defeated me.  I wasn’t really offended, just... tired.  Things had gotten so wrapped up in complicated portentous chosen-savior-of-everything plots and we couldn’t have even one episode anymore that was just a normal time travel adventure.  I think about halfway through here, I gave up on Doctor Who.

Oh well.  There’s still time to come back to it if I want.  And we’ll always have “Blink.”

#doctor who #long post #looooooong post #longest post

[bigskydreaming]

so i read robin year one after seeing your posts about it and i really liked it! you got any other dick grayson recs? also i thought this was the comic where the juvie origin comes from but it wasn't there. from what comic was it then?

Gah, see the problem I have with reccing comic book stories, especially that far back is like…..almost all the way across the board, the stories I’m most…partial to or whatever, I’m still not 100% on board with, you know? Like, for as many elements about them that work, there’s things that bug the crap out of me, so my enjoyment of or positive associations with most comic book arc…..its usually not about the arcs over all, so much as….there were specific things within those arcs that I really liked and I pretty much just channel my focus onto those parts and idk…..willfully try not to focus on the parts that bugged the crap out of me. LOL. If that makes any sense at all?

I mean, just in terms of general eras, one good thing about the 90s Batbooks is they were really good about having each of the Bat characters regularly and consistently be DETECTIVES as much as they were superheroes and crime fighters. There’s tons of good stuff from the 90s specifically, in the vein of showcasing just how freaking smart Dick is and following him through his process in solving his various cases or tracking down different villains.

BUUUUUT….that’s also where most of the “Dick is a cop” crap is located during his daytime hours, and. I just. Can not express the depths of loathing I have for the decision to make Dick Grayson of all people a cop. It just. No. It doesn’t work for me, at all, on any level. The kid most specifically fucked over and mishandled by an uncaring system, growing up to be a servant of that very system? Nope, nope, nope times a million. Dick Grayson is a vigilante, has been a vigilante since he was a child, specifically because he’s someone who puts his faith, his trust, in individuals rather than institutions.

Its not just a matter of like….

Eh, okay, disengaging, lol. I need to nope right off that particular subject because when I start down THAT particular rabbit hole, I don’t come out the other side for a very long time and I just do not have time for that currently. LMAO. But anyway. 

Like…yeah, so that’s the problem I have with recommending specific Nightwing solo arcs specifically…..because on the one hand, I want to point to a lot of stuff from that time period because of everything Dick was doing in costume…..while like….rapidly flipping through every page where he’s not in costume. LOLOL.

So this is a tough one. I tend to say you can’t really go wrong with any of the older Titans stuff… even when its not that great, with a couple of glaring exceptions its not BAD, at least as opposed to when things are bad in the Batbooks and Dick’s solo title. At which point they’re more accurately termed ‘abyssmal.’

I mean….I definitely think the original Titans Hunt storyline is worth a read, and contains so much of what’s quintessential to his character and his dynamics with practically every single individual member of the New Teen Titans lineup. (And to be clear, this is the Titans Hunt storyline from the late 80s, not the crap Rebirth story with the same name. I don’t know her.)

In terms of the Batbooks themselves….y’know, it might sound weird given that I really hate the event-driven structure of comics in this day and age and think it actively works against the creative potential of the various books…..BUT….the way they used to do more localized ‘events/crossovers’ between every book in individual franchises…..in hindsight, a lot of those worked pretty well, especially when you’re reading them all after the fact and all the related issues are conveniently collected, as opposed to how at the time it was a massive pain in the ass to try and keep track of what titles the storyline was going to be continuing in next week, etc.

But so, like…a lot of the big Batbooks events from back then are worth a read and hold up well, I think, because in events like No Man’s Land, War Games, etc…there was a lot more effort put into coordinating the various writers and getting them ALL on the same page and making those crossovers a lot more actual collaboration than what we tend to see in the big line-wide events nowadays. So a lot of those are pretty great because they’d bring all the assorted Bat franchise characters together for the duration of a specific story, even ones who tended to usually just be at the fringes of the family or only interact with certain others once in a blue moon. The all hands on deck kinda thing.

If you haven’t already read the full scope of Knightfall, specifically when Dick first took up the Batman mantle while Bruce was recovering from Bane breaking his back, and with Tim as his Robin then, I would definitely check that out. Its angsty as hell but still really good.

Hmm, what else. Ugh, see, like…..if there were a way to JUST isolate Dick and Cassandra’s parts of the ‘Bruce Wayne: Murderer?’ and the ‘Bruce Wayne: Fugitive’ story arcs, I would say read those, lol, because like…..the two of them were sooooo good there, those arcs had some of the best Dick and Cass and they really got closer during that time, mostly due to the fact that everyone else, even Tim and Babs, were trying to stay impartial and follow the evidence wherever it led, even though it was implicating Bruce at the time…..but Dick and Cass were just like “Nope, doesn’t matter. I don’t care. The evidence is lying. Bruce is innocent la la la I can’t hear you.”

I’m just….the two of them in particular fought SO DAMN HARD for their dad in that story (even if Bruce hadn’t started talking about adopting Cass yet by that point. WHATEVER. I’M STILL COUNTING IT). Its honestly pretty fucking beautiful in how their character beats played out specifically, and there was just so much poignancy to their increasingly desperate attempts to think outside the box for ways to prove it couldn’t have been Bruce, even while acknowledging that doing so went against every single thing he’d ever taught them himself…..

Buuuuuuut, the downside of those two story arcs is that BECAUSE of how freaking devoted Dick and Cass are to proving Bruce’s innocence and bringing him home…..if you’re anything like me, Bruce’s train of thought and actions throughout almost those entire two story arcs all the way up until just before the end….like….will have you wanting to reach into the actual pages of the comic book so you can wrap your hands around B’s scrawny two-dimensional neck and just. Be like. WHAT ARE YOU DOOOOOOING?

And I mean, to be fair, its not that he’s particularly out of character or that its hard to see how and why they decided on that approach to him in that story. Tbh, I get their reasoning for the character choices they made with Bruce there, it makes sense, its not terrible character logic, its just…..painful to read.  Especially given that the BW:M and BW:F arcs are loooooooooooooong. And spread across like. So many issues, in all the various Bat titles of the time. And you’re just like omg can you please hurry it up to the part where Bruce figures out he can’t do this alone and shouldn’t do this alone and his family is literally yelling LET US HELP YOU and…he goes and lets them help him?

So. Yeah. Lots of double-edged swords in all of that. Hopefully somewhere in all that stream of consciousness you can pick out a few starting points to start like….scoping out to see if they might be what you’re looking for. LOL.

Oh! And per your other question, the one-shot that details the juvie origin is Robin Annual #3 I believe. And if its not that, then its Robin Annual: Year Three. Its one of those two. I just don’t even pretend to remember how they went about numbering those flashback mini’s and one-shots, if I ever actually understood their logic there at all. 

*Shrugs* Why is the story about Dick’s first major crisis in costume called Robin: Year One while the story about what happened to Dick before he even ended up at Wayne Manor is in a book called Robin Annual: Year Three? I haven’t the foggiest clue, lol.

Sometimes the only reasonable explanation is that DC’s just fucking weird, I guess. lmao

[veridium]

miss independent

COLLEGE AU DISASTER COMING IN HOT 

I want to say that this chapter, even though relatively short and to the point, is a very important one in terms of content for me. Based on a lot of my experiences being a young queer person in activist/”social justice” spaces, and the ways in which people use those spaces for their own needs. This is all a eloquent way of me saying: gay drama, it sucks, and it’s real. The community isn’t a utopia!

So, uh, enjoy!

fic masterpost // last chapter

--

-- Theia The Gayuh: Hey 

Read 8:04am

-- Theia The Gayuh: Can we talk, please?

Read 8:13am. 

-- Theia The Gayuh: You turned on your read receipts just for this, didn’t you. 

Message Delivered.

She sends the messages Tuesday morning, and Liv can’t decide whether she’s angry or thankful she’s left her alone for 48 entire hours. Usually they can’t stand to be upset with each other more than the length of one L Word episode. Oh how the turn tables. 

Eventually, though, she does respond. After a whole day of classes, texting Cassandra about everything but the fact that Theia reached out, and seeing Ellinor in passing, walking hand-in-hand with Cullen. She’s glad they worked things out for now -- now being a day-by-day, sometimes even hour-by-hour kind of thing. They survived the first party saga of their respective relationships, and now she sympathizes with Cassandra’s desire for peace and discipline more than ever. Besides, it’s getting to be crunch time in the semester. They should be calming down. 

Olivia: Meet me at Johnny’s at 6, then. I can’t stay long. I have to study. 

Read 3:17pm. 

-- Theia The Gayuh: Sounds good. Thank you. 

If she scrolls up just a bit, she can find their last messages from before the war. Memes from gay instagram accounts, short threats of disownment and other heartfelt jokes. It’s not right being on the outs with her, but what can she do? She’s still angry, and that isn’t saying much. Olivia can be angry for years if she deems it necessary. 

She touches base with Ellinor, the other half of her brain, before she shows her face at the pizza place they agreed to meet. 

-- Ellinor: I don’t know, dude. Maybe she wants to apologize?

Olivia: I hope so because if it’s just more bullshit I’m going to be so mad. 

-- Ellinor: Cullen says to hit her with the crushed peppers if she fucks up.

Olivia: 👀

-- Ellinor: Okay I said it 

-- Ellinor: He says hope it works out. I said that was boring. 

Olivia: Be nice!! 

Before she locks her phone she looks back on the last messages Cassandra and her sent to each other from hours prior. They’re perfectly nice and sweet, not paragraph length like they used to be. The more they get to know each other the shorter the answers become and the less stressful it is to come up with what to say. She puts the car in park and turns the key, making one last wish that she won’t have to lose a friendship just so she can have a relationship.

Johnny’s is one of the most college-town holes in the wall there is. But, to be fair, their pizza is also the best in town -- or so Theia and Olivia swear every time they show up for the last by-the-slice orders at 1am. Now, in the socially acceptable hour of dinner for regular people, she’s reliving all the hazy memories when she walks in and sees Theia sitting back at a corner table along the wall, scrolling her own phone. 

Ugh. Fuck. 

She looks up and sees Liv standing like a scarecrow, and doesn’t smile. She just sits up and takes an anxious breath by the looks of it. Olivia tucks her head and walks over before it becomes a standoff in an old Western film. 

“Hey.” Theia says it first as Olivia drops her keys and wallet on the table. She does a subtle head nod in reply and takes her seat. That is more than enough. 

“Are you...how are you?” 

The sound of her voice is enraging still. Its sobriety and measured diplomacy, too. Where was it when she needed it? When Cassandra would have benefited from it? Oh, that’s right, drowned in a gallon of rum and bud lite. 

“I’m good. You?”

“Good.”

She holds back a glare. She shouldn’t be good. She should be far from good. But when she looks up, Theia’s face says as much. 

“I...I thought it would be better if--”

“H-how is Josephine?’

Theia gives her a confused look, hands sliding back and into her lap. “Uh...she’s...good. You haven’t been in touch with her?”

“Not since Saturday. I was planning on texting her.”

“Oh. Uh, cool. Yeah, you should do that.”

“Yeah.”

Awkward pause, part one, hits. Olivia’s eyes wander around the place, to the chalkboard signs with the beer tap menu, to the awkward high school-aged boy behind the counter re-folding takeout menus. Man, he still does not look a day over 15 with that haircut. 

“Liv.” Theia says it in a ‘let’s cut the crap’ kind of way, but she’s not ready to follow along. But she also can’t divert attention anymore so she keeps her mouth shut. 

“Liv, come on.”

“Hm?” she offers, and locks eyes with her. It’s then she notices the coca-cola cup of water and ice she has in her hand, straw by her mouth. 

“I know you’re mad at me.”

“Uh…” Olivia can’t hold it back anymore. This baiting and subtle nod to the issue is aggravating her bullshit meter. She smiles with impatience and shakes her head. “Uh, it’s not that I’m mad at you, Theia. It’s that you fucked up.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because you seem to be chilling with your ice water.”

“Ah.” Theia sighs, and sets down her cup. “So that’s how this is gonna go.”

So this is how this is gonna go? Ugh, she was right. It’s gonna be more bullshit. Not just the apology and explanation she deserves. No offer to apologize to Cassandra directly. No accountability. Why the fuck did she make this plan? Theia is never going to--

“Look, I know what I did was immature. I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

“Hurt me? What about Cass? You went full Mean Girls on her. If anyone should be here getting an apology, it’s her.”

“As long as I get one for the hours I spent talking to you and texting you about her when she was pulling her bullshit.”

“That’s not how that works!”

“Well it should!”

“Uh, hey.” From above both their steaming heads, the boy from the counter interrupted, standing like a beanpole with two menus in his hand. He eyed them both with a look not unlike the way the little girl in the movie Matilda looks at Ms. Trunchbull, and sets them down between them. Olivia blinks away her hostility as best she can, but Theia just rolls her eyes and looks away. Classy. 

“Thanks,” Liv says, but the boy is already halfway back to the counter. Talk about a way of saying ‘please hurry up with things so you can leave sooner.’

Theia sighs with dread and takes her menu, thumb pressing a corner bend as she stares at the lines of words. Olivia keeps hers flat on the table and retracts her hands, peering over it like a child. Maybe she should pull out a magnifying glass and also search for a will to live. 

“I just don’t get what you see in her.” Suddenly, Theia sets down the menu and folds her arms. She’s really ready to be completely obliterated. 

Olivia perks up fast, outrage in her posture as her mouth goes open wide. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Theia?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like. I don’t get it. I didn’t get it in the beginning, I didn’t get it at the party, and I still don’t.”

“If you don’t get it, fine. You aren’t in the relationship.”

“It’s not that, Liv. You have always been a certain kind of person, and you have always been outspoken about what it means to be queer. You deserve someone who is as passionate about it as you, who won’t...like, I don’t know. Gentrify it.”

“Gentrify it?!” 

The boy came back again. This time with a notepad and pen. Behind him an older man was peeking out from the window into the kitchen looking as if he had bribed him to return. 

“I, uh…” Theia said, still mad as she nearly tossed him the menu. “I’ll have the Hawaiian personal, please.”

“Chill,” he replied, sliding the menu under his arm. Then he looked at Liv, one eye twitching a bit narrower than the other. What, was something on her face?

“I’ll have a Margarita. Medium, please...” she looks at Theia when she bends her brow. “I’m bringing back some for Ellinor. I owe her for stealing five of her easy-macs.” 

She hands the menu back because the guy looks like he’s being held hostage, releasing him back into the wild. After that she folds her arms and rests them on the table, leaning onto the table. 

“Oh. I thought…”

“You thought I was bringing some for Cassandra? What, that she’s waiting outside with sunglasses on and a sniper in case things go bad?”

Theia bites the corner of her mouth and looks away. Her fingers twist together as she takes in the wall painting hanging next to them of the old river bridge just past downtown. College town shops always decorated with images you could see by virtue of a 5 minute walk in any direction. As if it heightened the experience or the pride in a bridge of all things. 

“You give her too little credit.”

Theia snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, asshole?” Olivia tilted her head, countering her feistiness. “You know nothing about her.”

“No one does! So she’s gay now. That mean she’s going to stop hanging out with those sexist, stalking assholes in her Bible study? The ones who campaigned for Prop 13 last year?”

“I never saw her out there with them!”

“It doesn’t matter, Liv! She still wasn’t against them!”

“You don’t know that!”

Theia scooted back in her chair but didn’t get up. She rolled her eyes so hard her head went with them, and she locked them on one of the tv’s on the opposite side of the room. Sports, or something, playing on the screen. Olivia stayed where she was, in the exact shape she was, though her flight or fight instinct trampled her willingness to stick around. This was the complete opposite of how she always wanted it to go, of how she always thought it would be. Her life had become a Dr. Phil special where the envious best friend was sat across from the happy but plain looking married couple, begging the best friend to stop egging their cars.

“Is she out to her family?”

Olivia scoffed. “Theia, you’re gatekeeping again.”

“I’m not, I just asked a question,” she corrected, looking back down at her. 

“I...I dunno.”

“Really?”

“Probably not. She just came to the conclusion herself. I don’t think she’s had the time or reason to. Not until...well, I don’t know.” She grabbed the straw wrapper leftover from Theia’s drink and began playing with it. 

“Pfft. Gotcha.”

“That doesn’t matter, though. Why should it? So she can be the “correct” form of real?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. You know what I’m worried about. The same reason you were concerned when Josie and I got together. The thing you saw fit to bring up that night, in public, in front of everyone. Remember how not-whispery your tipsy whispering is?”

Shit. She hadn’t thought about it like that. At the time, it was an empowering speech-and-run that she made to expel her rage. The kind of tell-off everyone dreams of giving when faced with someone’s traitorous actions. She hadn’t taken into account the volume, or the environment -- had Josephine heard her? Had other people? Oh God, that might have been completely humiliating…

Theia watched her, and shook her head. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, and yes, she does know what you said.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that was a wonderful fight to have at 3am. Thanks for that.” 

“Theia, I--”

“Whatever, Liv. You know what I mean when I ask if she’s out. It’s different when we’re kids, when we’re poor...it’s not like that with you. You’re both adults, and she’s rich. What’s stopping her from doing what all those Beauty Queens do making out with our friends in the dive bars then running off to Mommy and Daddy’s house in the Dales?”

“She’s not rich, her fa--”

“Liv.”

Ugh, fuck. She rested back on her chair and ripped the wrapper in two. She caught her on something she would say was bullshit in any other context, and she hated her for it. Wealth wasn’t an individualistic thing, it wasn’t some easily-excluded condition. That was well-evidenced by her continued compliance with her Mom’s antics if it meant getting her tuition bills paid and health insurance secured. 

“You’re still being disrespectful and showing your privilege. It doesn’t matter the age of when someone comes out, it’s still difficult and uncomfortable. The fact that she is doing it, and doing it with someone in her life, is brave. And she and her family aren’t white. Neither are Josie’s. We won’t ever know what it’s like to do what they do. Money or no money.” If only you knew what she’s gone through, what she struggles with. Shit, if only *I* knew. 

“Ugh, you sound like those women’s studies harpies with all the buzz words.”

“I sound like a compassionate human being. You would do well to try it sometime.”

Theia slurped her water, visibly calmer than she was at the start. Perhaps a little too calm. Her heart was in the right place, if only she would admit she was just feeling protective and possessive of her best friend. Instead she was dunking and deep-frying her concern in narrow-minded visibility politics. Olivia flicked the ball of remaining wrapper onto the table, giving up on it as a plaything. She was looking at the person who helped her come to terms with her sexuality, the person who listened to her cry in the middle of the night after she’d have another fight with her Mom about wanting to cut her hair or have a pride flag in her room when she’d come home in the summer. They had gone through so much, and she wants to hold onto it with the hope that if she can change, Theia can, too.

“Well. I guess I’ll be wishing for her to prove me wrong, then,” Theia allows, shrugging her broad lesbian shoulders with her broad lesbian skepticism. This isn’t the last of it, and she isn’t convinced in the slightest. By the looks of it -- and by the knowledge Olivia has in 2 years of friendship -- she’s choosing not to pick the battle anymore. Relieving, but only to an extent. 

“Thanks, I guess. I still think you owe her an apology.”

“Fat chance.”

“Theia.” Olivia notices pizzas being brought out of the kitchen. Perfect fucking timing evaded them this far, why would it start now? “Apologize to her or I won’t let this go.”

“Oh come on.”

“I mean it--” she interrupts herself as the guy approached with Theia’s order and two pizza stands. She’ll have to wait until he’d do the second trip for her own meal. It felt like an hour, their stiff staring down of one another while Chad-Kevin-Trevor-whoever did his thing. Poor dude, he was annoying but he would get a good tip. No one wants to be at the mercy of gay drama. When at last everything was served, and the guy got out with his life, she pulled napkins from the dispenser and continued. 

“I’m not going to apologize to someone who proves me right the next day. I’m just not going to have her put a rift between us.”

“You have no faith in her and you don’t even know her!” Her put a rift between us? Her?

“I have seen this happen too many times in this town to blink it away, Liv. I’m not going to watch it happen to you and pretend it’s some big surprise.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Theia chews away, dropping her slice down on the plate. Her greasy hands ate up the napkin she used to clean them off, finger by finger. “I can’t stop you from dating her. But you can’t stop me from having my gut feelings.”

Oh, fuck all. 

After a tense pause, Olivia grabbed the infamous crushed peppers and generously sprinkled them onto her own meal. “You know, maybe it’s for the better. If she were here she’d say she wouldn’t want your apology unless it was sincere. Which, obviously it isn’t, because you are an asshole.”

“Psh. Fine, say it’s that. All I know is I don’t say sorry unless actions prove it warranted. And I trust you enough not to do that thing everyone does when they get together.”

You mean U-Haul and crawl up each other’s assholes never to see anyone else again. Cool, that’ll be fun to attempt, considering I intend to keep you two as far away from each other as humanly possible. For my sake, and hers. Olivia took a large bite into her first steaming slice and, as always, immediately squirmed. 

“H-h-haw--”

“God dammit, Liv,” Theia grinned and slid her water to her side, which Olivia took and gulped from the rim. Fuck the straw. 

“Gah,” she gasps, and slammed it down. “I’m such a dumbass.” 

She met her glance, mouth lined with sauce and balsamic. Theia’s playful expression is her weakness. She chuckles for the first time all afternoon, pressing a crinkled up napkin to her mouth as she did so. Theia follows suit, leaning back and running her fingers through her down-and-tousled hair. She mutters a curse under her breath. It’s like opening a can of soda and letting the carbonation finally release. 

“Ugh, Liv, you’re always going to be my girl.” She reaches for the parmesean shaker and began dousing her pizza in it. A Hawaiian pizza with parmesean sounds disgusting, but the way she ogles it with hungry eyes, you’d swear it was the most delicious thing to ever be invented. 

Her statement though. Her statement makes Olivia’s heart creak. She wants so badly to nod and smile, fully believing in it as she always had. But the truth is -- and she hated herself for it -- the entire time she sits there she’s missing Cassandra. Missing her, the way she talks, the way she laughs when she had a mouth full of food. 

She watches Theia take her first cooled-down and thus safe bite, and for that split second she lets her inner frown weigh on her face.

The pizza isn’t for Ellinor, she confesses in her thoughts, one which she wishes to say out loud. But everything said not to. Everything said it wasn’t safe. And for that, she is at a loss. 

--

“Well, fuck her.”

Ellinor, having stolen a slice of the leftovers, thus proving Olivia’s fib somewhat obsolete, is adamant. Cross-legged in old basketball shorts and a tank with flannel on (peak pajamas aesthetic). All the while Olivia paces with a textbook in hand, trying to work out the anxious energy while also getting work done. A futile endeavor, a tale as old as time. 

“Ellinor, please.”

“Nah, fuck her. She knows what she did was fucked up!” said with a mouthful of margarita goodness. She gulps it down and then burps like a truck driver twice her age. Olivia has to giggle.

“Ahh, fuck, this hits the spot. What was I saying? Oh, yeah, fu--”

“I get it, okay!” Olivia shut the book and tossed it onto her desk. Huffing with indignation. What bright idea did she have thinking she could just be friends with so many opinionated and crass women? Oho, feminism, blah blah blah, women’s empowerment, blah blah, empowered women empower women, blah blah BLAH. 

“Well. Then what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to proceed as planned. Theia doesn’t feed me or pay my bills. Her opinion is purely arbitrary.”

“Uh huh, so that’s why you’re creating rubber burn marks on your carpet.”

“What?!” Olivia squeaked, looking back behind her bare feet. Oh, good one, Ellinor. 

“Liv.”

“Oh stop it! I’m doing my best. Theia is one of my first and truest friends. She’s the only one I’ve known as long as you.”

Ellinor slouched and scowled with bitchy apathy -- a talent she knew best. Sliding herself off her friend’s bed, she put her hands on her hips and stood toe-to-toe with her.

“Yeah, Liv, and only one of us isn’t being a dick about something that’s making you happy.”

Olivia frowns and slides her hands into her hoodie pocket. “It’s...it’s not the same. It’s different in the community versus out. I can’t--”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Ellinor…” 

Ellinor dragged her feet as she headed towards the door. “Last I checked, Liv, there isn’t a Hayley Kiyoko song about being gay meaning you get to step over boundaries like they’re hopscotch squares!”

“Ell--”

“Nah-ah!” she yelled, sliding in through the door’s narrow opening. Her finger went up in the air as she lingered. “I can cite sources, too, Ruth Gay-der Ginsburg!”

“...I hate you.”

From the hall, the same sarcastic voice echoed: “LOVE YOU TOO!”

She’s going to be saying that for the rest of the week. Fantastic. Olivia resigned herself and fell back on her bed, hands across her stomach as she wished to be anywhere else but there. She had always swore she would tape stars and planets to her ceiling but never got around to it. Truth was she wasn’t tall enough to reach, and Ellinor has no advantage in that department, either. But...she could ask Cassandra. She could do that now. She could do a lot of things. 

But first, she can do one right thing, for someone who didn’t deserve the heat she got. She unplugged her phone and held it above her head. 

Olivia: Hey, Josie. I talked to Theia about the party. I’m sorry I made an ass of myself at your expense. 

Read at 8:55pm

-- Josie: It was not the funnest thing. I appreciate your apology, though. Theia was being ridiculous, I’m sorry you had to deal with that. 

Olivia: It’s not your job to apologize for her choices. 

-- Josie: I know! Is Cassandra okay? 

Olivia: Yeah. A lot has happened. I’m feeling really overwhelmed. 

-- Josie: Oh, dear. You want to get coffee tomorrow?

Olivia: 😭

-- Josie: Lol, okay. I’ll meet you in the Hub.

#fic update #day & age #friendship fic #college AU #college!ellinor #college!olivia #modern thedas au #hot mess express

[novellaquill]

Starling: Starting Over

—

Drabble with OC!Batsis x Batfam

Summary:

Lerina begins to doubt her decision and doubts if she can make it on her own but with help from friends she starts to enjoy her new found freedom. However, an old friend may accidentally ruin it all.

Warning: This talks about depression, mental illness, and other serious topics. If these topics make you feel uncomfortable don't read. There is also cursing.

A/N: You finally get to see what she looks like and are introduced to a new character! Young Justice are mentioned.

—

“It’s all anybody wants, right? Clean slate. A new beginning. Like that’s gonna be any easier. Ask the guy pushing the boulder up the hill. Nothing’s easy about starting over. Nothing at all.”

― Meredith Grey

“Everyone has that moment I think, the moment when something so momentous happens that it rips your very being into small pieces. And then you have to stop. For a long time, you gather your pieces. And it takes such a very long time, not to fit them back together, but to assemble them in a new way, not necessarily a better way. More, a way you can live with until you know for certain that this piece should go there, and that one there.” ― Kathleen Glasgow, Girl in Pieces

—

I'm not going to lie this has been hell. My anxiety is skyrocketing,  I've never done this before. I spent nights wondering what my family would say if I ever saw them again. Would they be angry or disappointed? Who knows? Why should I care? I shouldn't, but I do. Dick's birthday is coming soon. I've never missed a birthday before what am I going to do? Will they survive without me? Of course, they will. Will they be okay though?  Again I ask who know? I shouldn't care, but I do I always will. Every day is a nightmare, it feels like you're on your own even though you have people to help you. 

— My best friend Shani gave me a place to stay until I got on my feet, but later on, we decided to become roommates since rent would be cheaper and she's basically my second sister. We got a four bedroom two bath apartment in Star Ciry. Honestly, we didn't need all that space, but Leilei insisted on having a place to sleep when she came to visit, and we both wanted a workspace. Shani mainly just wanted Leilei there so she could get free food whenever she came to visit, that vulture.

Now for the hell part, it's difficult to take care of yourself without having to take care of someone else at least physically. At home, I would remember to eat because I helped Alfred make breakfast for my household. Now I have to remind myself that I have to eat for me. Eating was necessary for survival just another task for me to do. It was hard to find the joy in anything especially when it's for myself. Oh, don't get me started on finding the motivation to do anything. Now that someone isn't relying on you it feels like you can't do anything or find to energy to do anything. When living is a chore with others, and now you're by yourself it feels like you're pushing a boulder up an unclimbable mountain. Maybe I should just go home? I mean what am I going to do out here? Really? Like what's the-"Okay get your ass up," Shani my best friend said dragging me off my bed and into the shower, "You did this at my old place you're not doing it here." "AH! SHIT, YOU SON OF A BITCH THAT'S COLD," I screamed as she drowned my body in the water. "Forget them Lerina you are a strong independent woman who doesn't need a man. Act like it! Now you have a degree in psychology if you saw someone acting like this what would you tell them to do," she asked dismissing the fact that her best friend is still in her clothes and in the shower having cold water pouring down on them. "I'm not a psychiatrist, but I'd tell them to go see one and get to get their life together," I answered pissed. "So what should you do?" "Yeah, I get it. Get out so I can take my own advice." "You're welcome bestie!" "I hate you." — Luckily I did see a psychiatrist. It's kinda fun to talk to him because of my background in psychology, I know the medical terms. I also received a new private doctor so it could be harder to track me. Together my doctor and my psychiatrist found medications that worked for me. Basically all the medicine I hoped to avoid I had to take. I'm on an antidepressant and medication for anxiety, but at least I don't have to take Adderall anymore. I used to as a child, and I haven't used it over a year. I'm officially off it now. I'm supposed to manage my stress, but I went ahead and got one of the most stressful jobs ever. I'm a neurologist! I originally went to school to be a psychiatrist, but that wasn't my calling. I continued the course then switched it to neurology I still love psychology and use the knowledge I learned to read others and give advice from time to time. Let's be honest, it's easier to fix someone else's problem than to fix your own. I didn't want to set a bad example for my patients. It took some time to job hunt and to get the okay from my doctors, but I finally started working. Life has its ups and downs I know that now and after three months my life is coming together. Maybe just maybe I can do this.

—

That naive little fool. Did she honestly believe starting over would be that easy? In only three months as well? Ha! She’d have better luck seeing Jesus and watching hell freeze over with him by her side. Did it not occur to her that her younger siblings would indeed look for her? Oh yes, the batclan began to search for her whereabouts two weeks after she went disappeared and haven't ceased searching since. I bet you curious to why it took two weeks for the clan of vigilantes to look for their missing bat. Well, it all started two months and a week ago. --

Tim noticed Lerina's disappearance the second he entered the Batcave. There was no welcome home kisses, bone-crushing hugs, or dinner. No questions about the mission after being dragged into the infirmary. There was nothing but the pained groans from his fellow vigilantes and the sounds of the keyboard used by Bruce. Tim looked at Jason and Jason looked back a Tim. It was if they shared the same mind that moment, they knew for a fact without a single doubt something was wrong with their sister. "Hey, Alfred did you see Lerina anywhere," Jason asked while getting a bullet wound stitched up "I'm afraid I haven't seen Miss Lerina at all during my return," the butler answered. "She's probably in her bedroom," Dick proposed, "Doesn't she have a board meeting tomorrow?" "Indeed she does but-," "I am certain that Oriel is alive and well," Damian interrupted unbothered by his butler and older brothers' concerned tone. "I didn't know you cared Damian," Cassandra said while putting away her gear, "I don't I believe we should consider taking the time to appreciate the beautiful silence her absence has brought us," he replied with a smirk. "If Lerina isn't here it's for a good reason. Now I want Tim-" "Bruce I'm pretty sure Lerina is missing," Tim interjected. "Nonsense Drake, Oriel is most likely working on father's business files and if not she's with her grandmother. Do Not disturb her I'm enjoying the silence," Damian sneered leaving the group. -- That's how it was for the entire time she was gone. Jason, Tim, and Alfred started their search immediately, however, the others didn't decide to join until 3 weeks later Kamalei complained about not seeing her granddaughter, even if that was a lie. It was then when the police, the league, and young justice were notified of her disappearance. There wasn't even the tiniest unit of dust to point them in the right direction but they continued to search losing hope until someone got a text. "That was Wally," Dick explained as the other began to suit up, "He saw Rina in Star City."

-- "Did you see the news today Rina?" "Oh yes, 'No it's true I am the real Lerina Oriel-Wayne' please," Lerina mocked the latest beauty queen who pretended to be her, "Another demented fangirl craving fame and fortune."  "Yo, but did you see how much money your family was willing to lay down for your return? Nearly fifty thousand dollars! Hell, I'm willing to put lipstick on a pig for that much money," Shani exclaimed powerless to hide the shock that trekked across her body. "Only fifty thousand? A pity I thought I was worth more than that," she shrugged entirely unbothered by the amount of reward money her family was willing to spend for her retrieval. "However, what is worrying is if someone recognizes me and reports back to my family. Are you certain it's safe for me to be out in public?" "I'm sure, you don't stay out long enough for the public to remember what you look like and thanks to papa Bruce's neglection he doesn't have any recent pictures of you. Relax, you're in the clear." Shani responded in a laid back tone, "Now let's go get some coffee-SHIT!!" "What," the older woman questioned, "What's wrong?" "It's Wally he's here! He heard everything and he's coming right at us, RUN!" You didn't have to repeat yourself to get the oldest Wayne to run as if a demon was right on her tail but as a regular human, it's impossible to outrun a speedster. Within a second a livid red head blocked their path. "Wally hi. How's everything with Artemis?" "Don't play that with me Lerina you have a lot of explaining to do,' Wally growled taking off with the pair. -- "That's it? That's why you dropped off the face of the Earth?!" Wally shouted his rage scorching the air. "What do you mean "that's it', Lerina argued, "That's a great reason." "You couldn't have left a note?" No, because I didn't want them to find me!!" "Listen Wally," Shani began getting the attention of her best friend and the speedster, "You're not really being fair-" "HOW AM I NOT BEING FAIR!?" he screamed, "The league, Young Justice, her own family are currently killing themselves to find her thinking that she's in some sort of danger only for me to find out she abandoned them! How am I being unfair?" "I didn't abandon them I left to-" he cut her off, "You left to spite them." "I left because if I stayed they would use that 50 grand to plan my funeral," she snapped her response draining the color from Wally's face."W-w-what?" he stuttered unable to get the words out, "I left to save my life, Wally, I would've killed myself in that house," she said voice cracking, "I didn't leave a note because I didn't want them to carry the burden of knowing nor did I want to face them ever again." He sat down on their couch head lowered and fingers running through his red locks, "SO what am I supposed to do, huh? I already texted telling them I saw you here. They are on their way if they aren't already here." "Well, you don't have to tell anyone you found us," Shani stated. Wally's head snapped up, "Are you saying that I lie to them?" "No, I'm just saying-" "I know what you're saying and it's still a lie. Asking for me to lie to my best friend and the bat clan is one thing but the team and my girlfriend too? You've got to be kidding me." "Artemis already knows. You can't be in Star City without one of its vigilantes finding out," Shani explained "Listen," Lerina said sitting next to him, "You can tell them I was here but by the time you come back I'll be on the next flight somewhere else. Why? I finally made a life where I'm not numb and I can live my life to the fullest. I'm not sacrificing my happiness or my health for anyone. Not anymore. Now you don't have to keep my secret I'm not going to ask you do but if you do I know a senior citizen who is always willing to fill that bottomless pit you call a stomach." Wally sighed putting his face in his palms, "He's my best friend, Lerina you can't just-" "Shh let's talk about something else, how are you and Artemis doing," she questioned. The only response was a groan. -- "Are you absolutely sure you saw her?" Nightwing questioned looking over the city. "You saw the picture I sent, it was her," Kid Flashed answered in monotone. "But?' he asked turning to his glum friend. "There were too many people around during a rush hour. I couldn't catch up." he said sighing in defeat. Nightwing didn't show it but he was distraught and Wally knew this but a new feeling of hope also filled the blue vigilante’s heart, "It's fine man. Thank you for notifying us, we'll keep looking in that area during the time she was last spotted to see if we can find a pattern. Then we'll branch out to the rest of the city. I'm sorry for all the trouble." "Yeah," Wally said as a mixture of  relief and guilt  settled in his stomach, "I'm sorry too."

--

~Novella Quill

#fanfic #dc #dc universe #daughter!oc #self journey #self love #angst #oc!batsis #batfam x batsis #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #damian wayne #fluff #starling #batfam x oc #kid flash #wally west #young justice

[hvndcvffed]

s u r v e y  :    g r i z z    v i s s e r .

he slides it into the submission box late, because he kept lending people his only pen. whoops.

basic information

FULL NAME: gareth paul visser PRONUNCIATION: GAH-reth VISS-er MEANING: gentle. REASONING: his parents named their son after the most important trait they wanted to nurture in him: kindness. his middle name is paul after his paternal grandfather. NICKNAME(S): gareth paul ( only his mother, when she’s angry ), grizz, grizzy, grizzly bear / grizzy bear ( parents ), kiddo ( his dad ) visser, bear ( blue ),  jizz ( unwarranted, miles ), babe ( tess, retired ) PREFERRED NAME(S): grizz. don’t call him gareth, please. he’ll just... smile uncomfortably and act like it doesn’t bother him, but it really does. BIRTH DATE: july 26, 2000. 3:23am. during a rainstorm. AGE: 18. ZODIAC: leo. GENDER: cismale. PRONOUNS:  he/him. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: demiromantic ( sexual attraction stems from emotional connection. ) SEXUAL ORIENTATION:  homosexual ( closeted ) NATIONALITY: american. ETHNICITY: american very far back. dutch and polish ancestry.

background

BIRTH PLACE: west ham, connecticut. HOMETOWN: west ham, connecticut. SOCIAL CLASS: upper. FATHER: keith visser. one of the lead police detectives on west ham’s police force. 48. jewish. avid outdoorsman, and can often be found hiking, kayaking, or rock climbing on the weekends. has a habit of cleaning off lisa & grizz’s plates, if they leave behind some peas or mashed potatoes. snacks on leftovers for breakfast, but can make a mean frittata. the secret’s all in making sure you’ve got a super hot pan. cautious, mindful. grizz gets a lot of his serene disposition from his father. unaware of his son’s sexuality; still thinks he’ll wind up marrying tess, or maybe hannah, or even cassandra. gets a kick out of becca when she comes around the house, because she’s so little. calls her shortstack, but only when pancakes are around to make the pun stick. MOTHER: lisa “lees” visser. 46. editor-in-chief for the west ham chronicle. freelance landscaper / gardener on the weekends, for fulfillment more than the money. religious, catholic born-and-raised, but she now attends the unitarian church in town. the switch happened once she married keith and they reasoned they wanted their child to have a composite world-view, one they could interpret and internalize free from categorical restraint. very in touch with her emotions; likes facilitating family discussions. made the executive decision to pull grizz out of dance classes after one year of lessons, because her 4-year-old son donned a sparkly feather boa and she didn’t like what she saw. primarily motivated by maternal and protective instinct. wants what’s best for her son: safety. supported grizz’s relationship with tess through and through. mentions her from time to time, because she’s still unclear as to why they called it off. she wants grizz to be happy. tess made him happy. SIBLING(S): none. his parents never told him, but they lost a child in infancy about 2 years before they had him, and suffered a miscarriage when they tried for another child when he was 5. his parents don’t talk about it, and they see their lives as very full with just grizz. they considered adopting when he was around 8, but ultimately decided against it. one child fills their hearts plenty. they’ve practically adopted all his friends ( especially blue, becca, hannah, and tess ) as part of the family anyway. BIRTH ORDER: only child. PET(S): grew up with a tabby cat, doobie, who lived to be 14. as a kid, he always dreamed about having a pet kimodo dragon. gets a real kick out of chinchillas, but the visser family’s rarely home: they’re always out and about, going on hikes, exploring connecticut and the northeast. they travel often. so it wouldn’t be fair, having to leave any pet at home alone. OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: his uncle james lives on the edge of town and works under peyton pellegrino’s dad in the fire department, so the families are close. they get together each year for christmas eve. his younger cousins live down by the sea in mystic, kipp ( age 4 ) & rebekah ( age 7 ). they facetime often, and the family makes annual trips to mystic seaport. they pile onto grizz’s back and have a blast running around the docks. PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: tess de luca ( freshman year - end of junior year ). ARRESTS?: none. but he does make frequent trips to the station to drop food off for his dad and his buds. PRISON TIME?: not unless you count the one time his dad played an april fools’ joke on him and placed him in a jail cell for 10 minutes for, “ bringing the wrong flavor cookies. the biggest crime of ‘em all, kiddo. ”

occupation & income

SOURCE OF INCOME: he works as a summer camp counselor at an adventure camp during school intersession, leading hikes & nature trips. during the school year, he’s too tied up with football to hold a job. he’s grateful that his parents are willing to help him out for major expenses, but he’s definitely the saving type, so most things he can cover on his own. he helps his neighbors out with taking care of pets & gardens as needed, so that’s a way to earn some fast cash. even though he always insists he can’t take their money. CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: yes! granted, working with phone-addicted kids in the wilderness can be difficult, but he’s thankful to get the breather from west ham. PAST JOB(S): he used to deliver papers on his bike, when he was younger, since his mom had the connection. SPENDING HABITS: frugal. more likely to spend on experience than material. MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: his dad’s collection of original-release vinyls by the beatles.

skills & abilities

TALENTS: writing, but he won’t admit it. football. wood-whittling. gardening. whistling. navigation. knot-tying. making sumptuous drip coffee. SHORTCOMINGS: sells himself short, a lot. his sexuality. can be impatient at times, when other people are slower to pick things up. will often take over getting something done ( i.e. a group project ) if he feels people aren’t doing it the most effective way. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, french. a tad of latin. he wants to learn more hebrew, especially since he’s from a blended household, but that shit’s difficult and he never had time to enroll in hebrew school full-time as a kid. DRIVE?: yes. he has his own car, for ease of getting to/from games, etc. but prefers to ride his bike around town. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: yes. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: yes. his dad taught him how when they had to call aaa on their way home from hiking the adirondacks, a trip they gave him for his twelfth birthday. RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes. he goes everywhere on that thing. need a ride? hop on. SWIM?: yes. the visser household has a very nice in-ground pool, heated. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: not really. grizz appreciates music and loves listening to it, but never really learned how to make it himself. unless you count a year or two of required band in elementary school, during which he ( very badly ) played the clarinet. PLAY CHESS?: yeah. he played a lot with his maternal grandfather growing up. big glasses of chocolate milk, classic rock, and chess. BRAID HAIR?: yes. it’s all very simple, once you learn how to tie all the scouting knots. TIE A TIE?: so many. thank you, boy scouts of america. PICK A LOCK?: he’s read up on it, but never actually done it. the closest he’s gotten is cutting his own padlock off his camping locker during his 7th grade boy scouting trip to maryland, when he conveniently forgot the combination.

physical appearance & characteristics

FACE CLAIM: jack mulhern. EYE COLOR: hazel, a murky blend of gold and forest green. depending on the lighting, they look different: in bright sunlight, they look like a faded jade green. sometimes, when the room’s darker, they look more gold. reference.  HAIR COLOR: deep, russet brown.  HAIR TYPE/STYLE: jaw-length, straight with some wave to it. typically worn down, tucked behind one ear, or up in a tiny little man-bun. reference one. reference two. reference three. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: he’s blessed with 20/20 vision! but he’ll still try on your glasses, if it’ll make you laugh. there’s a photo of him on the visser fridge wearing his mom’s readers and holding a tray of fresh-baked cookies. he looks like a friendly neighborhood grandma. DOMINANT HAND: left-handed. but he’s worked for years to become ambidextrous for most tasks. he can’t brush his teeth with his right hand, though. it feels funny. HEIGHT: 6′2. WEIGHT: 158 lbs. BUILD: broad-shouldered. lean waist. chiseled core, strong legs. he’s got an athlete’s build for sure – he’s perhaps not as heavy as other guys on that football field, but it takes some serious force to knock him down. tall. but he kind of hunches, just slightly, to not take up so much space. EXERCISE HABITS: varsity football team. lots of morning and night runs. crunches, push-ups, pull-ups: he’s got one of those bars in his doorway. weight-lifting with the team. yoga, sometimes. SKIN TONE: light, but he spends a lot of time outdoors. no freckles. TATTOOS: none. but would love to get a walden quote, or a simple pine tree. someday. PEIRCINGS: none. but maybe once he gets to college he’ll get his ear pierced. MARKS/SCARS: some miscellaneous scars on his hands from whittling incidents growing up. a faint line across his arm from stitches, when he broke it in the peewee football league in fifth grade. he has a barely-there scar just to the right of his left ear, along his hairline, from a camping incident. NOTABLE FEATURES: his hair. his eyes. people have drunkenly said he’s got kissable lips. USUAL EXPRESSION: inquisitive, collected. he’s always thinking. CLOTHING STYLE: letterman jacket. jeans. tall socks, boots. pants tucked into socks, because why the hell not? flannels, hoodies, utility jackets layered over plain white tees. pendant necklaces, leather bracelets. occasionally he’ll wear a statement button-downs that looks like your grandmother’s upholstery, but somehow it’ll work really well. varsity t-shirts. hats of all varieties. if he could, he’d showcase some edgier styles. but he’s paranoid. he’s got a stanford hoodie buried in his closet. and a yale one, too. JEWELRY: leather bracelets. a silver ring strung on a chain, engraved with “ for sylvie, with love ”. he found it on a hike, and… figured he’d be sylvie for a day, or something like that. ALLERGIES: sulfur-based antibiotics. bullshit. idiocy. BODY TEMPERATURE: runs hotter than most. probably the first to offer you his jacket or sweater, if you look cold. DIET: grizz’s mom loves to cook, so they’re always trying some new paleo trend. some of it’s awful. but he’ll try to eat it and if he can’t, he’ll sneak a granola bar later. he’s bad at pretending disgusting shit tastes good. his nose will wriggle up involuntarily and he’ll sniffle. if the school’s serving smiley face fries, he’ll have those. he really likes green apples and those little clementines. cajun fries are some of the best things ever invented. PHYSICAL AILMENTS: nope. he’s quite able-bodied and he’ll use it as a way to take the burden off of his parents. grizz knows how to do most things around the house: fix a faucet, replace bulbs, work on pipes, etc. because his parents are getting older and he doesn’t want them to hurt themselves doing something he’d barely even break a sweat at. he’s always volunteering to help out his neighbors with heavy packages, retrieving their mail, tending their gardens, etc. it’s no hassle. so why not?

psychology

MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral good. he’s all for what’s morally right. sometimes laws and rules leave that out. TEMPERAMENT: melancholic. ( analytical, wise, peaceful. ) ELEMENT: water. MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: mild insomnia, sometimes. but he’ll usually just throw on some music and yield to it. guzzle a few redbulls the next day to keep alert for practice. SOCIABILITY: grizz is never the type to turn anyone away, but he does have a fear of compromising his one secret: so... if someone shows signs of seeing through him? he might distance himself a bit. but he’s often compared to glue that binds. he has a real capacity for leadership ( though he’ll never see himself that way ), and tends to be the driving force in maintaining healthy friendships and friend groups. he looks out for his friends. EMOTIONAL STABILITY: very stable. which is why when things go awry and he can’t rationalize his feelings, he gets... scared. vulnerable. PHOBIA(S): irrelevancy. being outed. loss. ADDICTION(S): good literature. DRUG USE: marijuana, but that’s it. ALCOHOL USE: what you’d expect from a popular jock. though he hesitates to think of himself as just a jock, because there’s so much more to his life than just football. PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: no. grizz doesn’t believe in using violence to manipulate or express emotion. but he will punch someone if there’s no other way.

mannerisms

QUIRKS: rarely settles his gaze on anything for more than a few seconds, except for other peoples’ eyes. eye contact is probably one of grizz’s biggest conversational strengths. probably why he makes such a good liar, when he needs to. he’ll finish a pint of ice cream and just sit there for over an hour sucking on the spoon, lost in thought. licks his lips when he’s nervous. plays with his hair a lot. you know he’s anxious when he keeps tucking his hair behind his right ear. chuckles to himself, even when things are the pure opposite of funny. laughs quietly so the skies have to lean in to hear it. dog-ears pages of books; stencils in his thoughts. his bookshelf is a catalogue of interiority: so if he lets you borrow any of his well-loved copies ( becca, cassandra, tess ), you know you’ve got his trust. burns marshmallows, but it always seems like he’s waiting for the perfect brown before he lets the thing catch fire. sneaks peanut m&m’s into the house because his mom’s on another big health kick; he munches on them in the basement theater with his dad, mischief aplenty. stole HOBBIES: jotting notes in book margins. he dabbles in poetry but feels like his shit is too beat-generation to be that cool. wandering through the woods and attempting to generate his own maps, then checking them for accuracy. lighting matches in the cold, mid-evening air just to watch them burn. watching minimalist apartment tour videos. whispering poetry out loud to himself with his eyes closed, to feel the words shape his lips. HABITS: standing in front of the mirror and trying to let the word gay escape his lips without panic setting in. asking others how they are instead of answering when it’s asked of him. when he goes to bed later than his parents, he’ll peek in their doorway to make sure they’ve gotten into bed safe. setting up the french press before he leaves for his morning runs, so coffee’s ready for his parents when they wake up. bringing donuts to the station, just to make his dad’s coworkers laugh. getting drunk and tossing finger guns around like free candies. NERVOUS TICKS: pursing his lips. biting the inside of his cheek. rocking back and forth on his heels. avoiding eye contact. growing quieter than usual. choppy focus. leaving text messages unanswered for days on end. DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: make it to graduation and get out of west ham. live this lie a little longer. protect his friends. nurture his family. make sure his dad eats: he tends to forget, when he’s on duty. look after his teammates. keep everyone else grounded. FEARS: time. losing his family: too many people in this town have experienced that kind of loss for him to indulge in the illusion that he doesn’t run that risk. cassandra’s health might decline. when he comes out in college, people from home might hear. people might hate him. blue’s not really okay, and there’s nothing he can do about it. becca’s having a hard time, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. does he really think sam eliot could ever like him back? what if he made a mistake, breaking it off with tess? what if he doesn’t know himself as well as he used to? he’ll experience firsthand death someday. he’ll lose people, too. he’s so used to picking up everyone else’s pieces. how’s he supposed to do that if he’s the one bleeding? what if he can’t help people as much as they need him to? will his parents hate him for lying about yale? will they hate him for giving up on football to pursue literature & philosophy? fear. that one’s ironic. POSITIVE TRAITS: charismatic, introspective, pacific, quick-witted. NEGATIVE TRAITS: self-contained, reckless ( with himself ), careless ( with himself ). SENSE OF HUMOR: dry, witty. facetious, but never ill-intended. lots of eye rolls and light laughs. DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: ask his parents, they’ll say no. but hell yeah. CATCHPHRASE(S): uno. dos. tres.  & a bonus: “ what the fuck ? ” & “ i’m surrounded by idiots. ”

favorites

ACTIVITY: reading. writing. gardening. football. ANIMAL: fish. they’re so graceful and they don’t bother anybody. BEVERAGE: half-oreo half-chocolate milkshake. extra whipped cream. two cherries. please. BOOK: le petit prince by antoine de saint-exupéry. it was the last book his grandmother ever read to him, on his fifth christmas eve. he can recite the first and last lines by heart, in english and french. CELEBRITY: young johnny depp. emma watson. COLOR: a nice, deep forest green. he also likes burnt reds and browns. DESIGNER: i mean... he knows his way around adobe creative cloud? FOOD: cajun curly fries. ugh. FLOWER: there’s something really beautiful about forget-me-nots. his grandmother used to pick a few of them with him in her backyard. she was big on those kinds of things. and all those silly sayings like: tickle tickle on the knee. if you laugh, you don’t love me! grizz always faught so hard not to laugh. his toddler self would puff out his cheeks and hold his breath until the twenty-second window was up. GEM: any kind of geode. HOLIDAY: halloween. boo. MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: biking! MOVIE: mr. nobody. eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. the first time little grizz saw alice in wonderland, he wouldn’t shut up about it for two weeks MUSICAL ARTIST: the divine comedy, radiohead, pink floyd, the beatles, the rolling stones, the kooks. the avett brothers. belle & sebastian. he envies bowie, prince, and mercury for like... living their truths. QUOTE/SAYING: “ if you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need. ” SCENERY: mountain ranges. the view from the top of difficult climbs. snow-dusted treetops. SCENT: the connecticut homesick candle. it smells like cinnamon and nutmeg and vanilla and fireside bliss. and pine trees. yum. SPORT: football. SPORTS TEAM: “ centurions on me! centurions on three! ” TELEVISION SHOW: he grew up watching wallace and gromit. he’s still got a soft spot for it. he also really likes travel channel specials. WEATHER: gentle rain. VACATION DESTINATION: he doesn’t know this, but his parents were planning a month-long backpacking trip through new zealand as his grad gift.

attitudes

GREATEST DREAM: live his truth, fearlessly. get to yale and just... be himself. whatever that means. GREATEST FEAR: people in west ham will find him out. he’s not ready. MOST AT EASE WHEN: he’s with tess. the visser family has relaxed nights in, or firepits in their backyard. when he’s neck-deep in a good book. reading dickinson. listening to the beatles. on the field, where none of his demons can touch him. LEAST AT EASE WHEN: people ask difficult questions, questions he doesn’t have the answer to. you’re gay, aren’t you? BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: his boy scout eagle scout award. he constructed and taught faculty how to maintain a sustainable farm-to-table garden at each of west ham’s three elementary schools. BIGGEST REGRET: not getting to know his grandmother more before she passed. not... telling blue the truth. telling himself the truth. breaking up with tess. he had to free her. but it still stings. MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: he cried at endgame in theaters. jason hasn’t lived it down for weeks. BIGGEST SECRET: he’s gay. he thinks he’s gay. he’s... he’s not as self-assured as people think. not as strong. he committed to yale without telling a single soul, except cassandra. his parents still think he’ll be going to uconn or southern for hockey. TOP PRIORITIES: looking after his loved ones. making sure everyone’s okay. securing the centurions’ top season record. helping blue, somehow. how can he ease tess’s pain? get to graduation. get to graduation. leave west ham behind.

#ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ɪ ᴀᴍ ! ɪꜱᴍꜱ. #newhamhq: task

[somevirtualnolife]

In the Case of Children

1683 Words

Rating: G Pairing: Mage Trevelyan x Cassandra Summary: Reagan and Cassandra broach a much danced around subject. Previous Chapter: In Memory Author’s Notes: WOO. Another story that I left for far too long. I'm sorry it took so long to update this. Sometimes life just gets to ya. But hopefully my writer's block and life has eased up a bit. I rushed the ending a bit... I had a bit of a tough time trying to wrap up the ending for some reason!Apologies for any types. Happy reading!

What was it again?

A sides-weep then a thrust? Or perhaps it’s better to pivot from the other side?

Cassandra tapped her practice sword against the training dummy and frowned. She had the combination down before, now she felt slightly off balance whenever she attempted a final blow. If they were going to fight Corypheus face to face, her technique had to be immaculate. No room for error when they were so close to victory.

“You’re very strong,” Cassandra heard behind her. She gripped her sword tightly and quickly turned around, only to see a young boy with brown hair.

There were a fair amount of children at Skyhold. The fortress was large enough for some to bring their families if needed. And Morrigan’s son was quite easy to point out among them. The way he carried himself and spoke wasn’t quite like that of a typical child; in some ways, he had a knowledge that surpassed even that of the adults around him. As for how that was possible, she wasn’t quite sure if she wanted to find out. His mother was a Witch of the Wilds, so who knew what she was teaching her son behind closed doors. She still felt that Reagan had made a mistake, letting her join the Inquisition. The woman was almost the textbook definition of a suspicious apostate. Which was saying a lot, considering the rest of the mages that wandered around here.

“Kieran, was it?” Cassandra said as she sheathed her sword. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people when they have a weapon. It’s dangerous,”

“I’m sorry. It’s just interesting to see someone who was asleep for so long with such skill,” he replied, his big eyes looking up at her.

“Thank you. I suppose,” A compliment wrapped around in mystery. How did this child know of the Rite of Tranquility? More importantly, how did he know that she had once been made Tranquil?

“Where’s your mother?” she asked, not wishing to discuss it further. Morrigan didn’t seem the type to let her son wander around too far from her sight, especially with so many templars about.

“She’s still in the room the with the large map,” he responded. Another meeting in the war room most likely.

“Your mum’s just about wrapped up actually,”

Approaching them from the stairs of the grand hall was Reagan, looking like his usual cheerful self. He ruffled Kieran’s hair playfully, to which the boy simply patted it back down again. He didn’t seem particularly fussed about it though.

“Seeker Cassandra is quite the warrior, isn’t she?” he continued, a large grin on his face. “She can talk one twenty darkspawn at once without breaking a sweat,”

“Really?” for the first time since she’d met the boy, Kieran’s eyes widened and he had a boyish wonder to him.

“Oh yes,” Reagan nodded. “And she chases after dragons for fun,”

“Don’t fill his head with ridiculous ideas,” Cassandra rolled her eyes. He really had to stop overexaggerating her skills, especially in front of the children. They took everything so literally.  

“Can I come with you on a mission and watch?” Kieran looked at the both of them.

“Oh, I don’t think your mother would be too pleased with that,” Reagan crouched down. “Speaking of which, I have a feeling she’s looking around for you, so it’s best you head back to the garden, okay? But Cassandra I will come and see you later. I can show you a few new magic tricks,”  

Kieran frowned, but nodded. Unlike most other children, he very rarely whined or protested. That did make him very easy to take care of at least. An odd child, but easy to handle it seemed. Once the boy left, Reagan stood up straight again, brushing off his trousers.

“He’s a bit of a peculiar child,” Cassandra couldn’t help but say once the boy was out of earshot.

“In my experience, most children are peculiar,” Reagan replied.  

“As odd as him, though?”

“I once taught a girl who tried to lick a nug that wandered into the circle’s courtyard. Well, tried and succeeded. And then all the other children cried because they weren’t allowed to lick the nug as well. It took them forever to focus them back on the class. So yes, as odd as him, I’d say,”

“Ah right. You were the head enchanter for the children in Ostwick, weren’t you?” He had mentioned it a few times in passing. Perhaps working with several little booger-nosed children flinging fire and ice at each other would change one’s idea of odd behaviour.

“Three years,” he replied. He sat on one of the stone ledges nearby, stretching out his neck.

Strangely enough, between the two of them, Reagan was the one who rarely spoke of his past. He always said it wasn’t particularly exciting or particularly interesting in comparison to hers. He was the youngest of four children from a pious noble family who had a fairly tame life in the Circle, according to him. Boring or not however, that didn’t matter much to Cassandra by this point. They’d been together for quite some time now. Getting to truly know each other was what mattered. Besides, it wasn’t as though her life was exciting all the time.

“Do you miss it?” Cassandra asked, sitting beside him.

“Sometimes,” he laughed. “Teaching children is always good fun. Inquisitive, curious… far less surly than adolescents. I’d also say less pressure than having to lead an entire military to victory against a crazed darkspawn magister. Just by a little,”

They fell silent for a moment. Not because they had nothing to say, but because they were beginning to realize just where this conversation was headed. Another subject that they had always danced around which made sense for a time. They were off saving the world, uncertain of just what was going to happen. But now that there was a possible end in sight to Corypheus, there were other parts of their future together that they needed to think about.

“So… children, huh?” Reagan was the one break the hesitation. “Was it ever something on your mind?”

Cassandra snorted. “Do I seem like someone with motherhood on the brain?”

“Well, you never know. I didn’t peg you for a romance reader either, so it wouldn’t be the first incorrect assumption I’ve made,”

She pursed her lips and furrowed her brows. There was maybe a brief moment, when she was younger and had been with Gaylan. If things settled down. If the Circle had ever changed it’s rules. If there was a window of rest in her life as a Seeker. But time seemed to move quickly after 25, and before she knew it, it . At least, she felt it did. She wasn’t dissatisfied about it. Faith guided her to be a Seeker of Truth rather than juggle both and she had no regrets about that.

“I thought about it a few times and that was as far as I went,” she finally replied with a slight, self-assured nod. That’s all there really was to it in the end. And honestly, she didn’t see herself being the sort of ‘kind and nurturing’ mother that one would normally picture.

“I guess we’re sort of the same in that regard then,” Reagan laughed, crossing his arms. “With the Circle’s rules, I had sort of accepted that I wasn’t going to have children,”

Cassandra carefully observed the mage’s expression. He was smiling, but his smiles were sometimes unreadable. It was a smile to hide what bothered him, a way to get him from talking about the sadder things when he didn’t want to. But still, she wanted to press forward. She wanted to know him more.

“You say you couldn’t, but… did you want to?” she asked softly.

A long sigh escaped his lips as he crossed his arms and looked up. “…Yeah, I did. But even at Ostwick, there were still things that were… tough. It’s hard enough being a child separated from your parents. Might be even more so if you’re the parent in that situation. And I didn’t want that,”

Of course. That should’ve been obvious to her. Even with her alliance and duties to the Chantry, that didn’t mean she felt that the treatment of mages was always fair or reasonable.  

It wasn’t just that.  Even if that were to change after the Inquisition, if the Circle was reinstated with new rules, he was now with a woman who had no real intentions parenthood. She just couldn’t picture herself being a mother now, even with the most caring and supportive partner.

It was almost he were reading her mind, for he looked back at her. He wrapped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her closer to him. Normally she hated when he was even the slightest bit romantic in public with her, but there weren’t too many people around. And…well, if she was being quite honest, she quick loved being in his arms. It was one of the few times that she felt vulnerable in a good way.

“But I make a pretty great uncle, if I do say myself,” he said, brightly. “Half a dozen nieces and nephews. I had a chance to meet a few of them when my siblings offered me temporary asylum after the Circle fell. Pretty sure I’m their favorite. I mean, none of other uncles can conjure up a fire bunny with the snap of their fingers,”  

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” Cassandra chuckled. “And… I’m glad. I don’t want you missing out on what you want due to… any circumstance,”

His nose brushed against her cheek before he lightly kissed it. It was soft, and comforting.

“Right now, I everyone that I want in my life, so don’t you worry about me,”

She cracked a small smile. A genuine one. He was so corny sometimes, but… she liked it.

“I feel the same way,” she responded, tilting her head so that she could return his kiss, planting one on his lips.

“Excellent. Now then… what’s your opinion on mabari?”

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #da:i fanfic #inquisitor x cassandra #cassandra x trevelyan #Cassandra Pentaghast

[terramythos]

My commentary on October Daye #10 or "Whodunnit: non-Electric Boogaloo" OR "Golly there sure are a lot of references to book 3 in this one. For some reason. I'm sure it's just a coincidence and theres no reason for that at all".

This is the first one that's just a liveblog, not a reread. And there's 2 more after this one. Which I'm told are just devastating. Woo!

-Holy shit, 10 books in and we got a map!

A map!

An honest to God fantasy map!

-Quentin/Dean is.. cute. Again, I like that Dean will probably get more development now that he's more relevant to the plot.

-So. Yeah. Last book introduced the goddamn cure for elf shot, which is A Big Deal Gamechanger. So this whole book is dedicated to like.. the political implications of that

-High King Aethlin Sollys: *shows up*

Me: well crap

-Aethlin: how dare you go behind my back and use the elf shot cure after I expressly said no

Toby, dear toby, literal changeling street rat: I mean, this whole situation IS technically your fault

Everyone in the room:

Aethlin:

Toby:

Aethlin: that's fair

-Oh yay The Luidaeg is going to be involved in this one. I missed her last volume. And since this is about the whole elf shot cure thing, Walther will ALSO be involved :>>

God I love The Luidaeg.

-Interesting backstory re: Quentin's parents. Which explains why they're so cavalier about a changeling training and raising the fucking crown prince 🤔

-Aethlin: I met the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life

Maida: I had pox scars on my face and chicken shit in my hair

Aethlin: you hit me with a broom

Maida: I hit you with a broom.

-Lol @ Colorado being called Highmountain

-its interesting to see monarchs and characters from other parts of the US, since we've pretty much only experienced San Francisco and Portland.

-Power move is Arden acknowledging Tybalt as a King and unsettling all the racist fucks in the audience 👀

-think I found some retcon? Cause according to book 5 connor died to elf shot because he was shot in the heart. But this one is saying that elf shot is fatal to all selkies because they're basically human. Whatisthetruth.png

-The Luidaeg just consistently protects and helps children, huh. Here she's super kind and gentle to Karen even though it briefly cracks her badass intimidation facade in front of a bunch of people. She personally carries one of the kidnapped Undersea kids back home. She uhhh literally helps Toby kill her brother Blind Michael, a literal child predator, way back in book 3. And she rescued Toby when she figured out what Amandine was doing to her. I mean. It all makes sense based on her backstory but BOY is that a consistent trait.

I took this pic on a plane but omg

Ashdfkulzeutsgk

-King Antonio: *dies*

Oh no... I uhhh hate when assholes I just met get killed off suddenly

-That being said, getting a glimpse into what it's like to be a Candela with those Merry Dancers as constant, loving companions. Definitely interesting enough that I hope we get more Candela in the series.

-Night haunts night haunts NIGHT HAUNTS their scenes are always cool.

-And Antonio's disoriented "where are my girls?" Talking about the Merry Dancers, when he emerges as a night haunt. That's pretty oof. :(

-OK so night haunts keep the form of the person they eat for as long as that person was alive. So imagine if The Luidaeg had perma died in book 8? The lucky sonofabitch night haunt that got to eat her would have a solid form for tens of thousands of years? That's bonkers. That's bananas.

- That's assuming Firstborn even get eaten @ all. I mean, Blind Michael got killed in book 3 and we haven't seen him with the flock.

- ....... 😳 UH. WAIT. Hold up. Hold the fuck up. No. I'm not exploring that line of thought.

LMFAO SYLVESTER.. *WHAT*

-Neeeeew MONTH NAME! September, Sylvester's dead sister, just got mentioned. I know she's shown up/been mentioned in some of the short stories, buuuuut...

-month names so far: January, April, May, August, September, October

Not introduced (yet): February, March, June, July, November, December

And we still dont know what is with the FUCKING month names. Only connection is they are all female characters and they all seem to be related in some way to Sylvester slash The Torquills. Some (like May) are a stretch there, but...

Oh lore?? OH LORE?

- Simon and Patrick were BFFs? 🤔🤔

-That.. had to have been introduced for a reason. Come on.

-Of course Raj likes romantic comedies. Of course he does

I LOVE the Luidaeg. Have I mentioned. This bit is even funnier knowing she can't lie. Which means she has an actual hierarchy of how much she wants to stab everyone she knows

BIG LUIDAEG LORE.

This is gonna take some unpacking. Most notable here is IS THIS THE SAME RIDE FROM BOOK 3? You know, Blind Michael's Ride, the Halloween horror show where he kidnaps kids and forcibly turns them into monsters? What is this flashback supposed to imply? The Ride used to be something else? The MONARCHS of ancient Faerie actually did kidnap kids like in the stories and Blind Michael took it over when they disappeared? The Ride maybe CAUSED them to disappear? What the fuck?

(Also my vampire crack theory gains more ground. Just look at that first paragraph. And then a couple pages later Toby sees the room covered in her blood and mentions feeling hungry looking @ it. Come on.)

-Support for my theory that this reminds me of: both the Dochas Sidhe we know of have the smell of blood as a part of their magical signature. Toby is initially "cut grass and copper" but as she gains power it becomes "cut grass and bloody copper". Amandine is "blood and roses" (which, interestingly, is what Toby tastes when she wakes up in this scene?) August and Gillian are the only other two characters we know of that have Dochas Sidhe heritage, and who knows what their magic smells like...

-The Luidaeg calling Shakespeare "a fucking dumbass" in a series full of Shakespeare references and motifs is, in fact, hilarious.

-Tybalt getting (basically) mortally wounded, so Toby tastes some of his blood. And sees herself from his perspective and how much he loves her. BIG OOF.

-Also interesting that the more powerful Toby becomes as the series progresses she's now the one saving Tybalt's ass. Was the polar opposite for the first 6 or so books.

-Colorado rep -- Highmountain are the big bads. Lmfao

-Well Toby is *actually* immortal. Like how else do you explain the shit that happens in this series lmao. (Also, turns out being that hard to kill is the shittiest superpower)

-Aw Toby forgave Sylvester... we will see if he actually redeems himself, I guess.

-You can tell Toby is embracing the "hero" role with that whole rousing and surprisingly coherent speech at the end.

This is just a real good character development vignette. We've come so far ;-;

-And of course the cure gets greenlit cause.. of course. But The Luidaeg's line "none of those assholes wanted to think about how confused they'd be if they missed a hundred years of internet memes" is, shall I say, Iconique

-multiple people have asked toby and tybalt to get married @ their house. And now the high king and queen fucking asked. Lmfao

-So this book was... interesting. I liked the political drama aspect. It was another whodunnit which we pretty much got a fill of with book 2. The conflict seemed to just kinda be.. there? I'd call it a filler book, but a lot of like.. lore got established, and we got some of what I assume are big hints/setups. Guess we'll see.

-to be fair books 1 and 2 also seemed like filler and turned out to be Super Fucking Important actually. So

-also there is just straight up a 70 page novella starring Arden at the end so I'll see if anything major happens in it.

-it's mostly a character study of Arden, turns out. But we DO learn that Cassandra, Karen's sister, is also a Seer, which... could be relevant (also I mean come on of course she is, did you see her name). Also Walther and The Luidaeg show up so thats fun.

-And it's funny to see what other characters think of October. Mostly she's a train wreck/practical joke that's somehow become extremely relevant to the surprise of literally everyone

-me seeing the total page count is 420: nice

-Anyway. The next two books sound like a gut punch conga line so let's get reading them