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asirensrage · 2 months ago

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Saudade - Chapter 18

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Mikey x OC, Hanma x OC, Ran x OC, Mikey x OC x Draken Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Warnings: swearing, violence, threats of violence, murder, smoking, sex, consensual sex between teenagers, alcohol, recreational drug use, mention of trafficking, torture, family neglect, mentions of sexual violence. isekai OC. memory loss. unbeta’d **warnings are not exhaustive** Summary: No one seems to realize she doesn’t belong until she finally runs into her “new” brother, Hanagaki Takemichi. Now, hearing his story, Takara makes the choice to help him and hopefully find her way home, but faking it til you make it only lasts so long when you start losing the memories of the life you had before. As Takemichi becomes the only family she’s ever known, how far will she go to protect him?

notes: One of my favourite bits is in this chapter. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. I also really want to make more memes for this fic. It's so funny at times. I adore writing Takara. Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think.

also on ao3

fic masterlist - prev chapter

It takes longer than she’d like to get there. Between the snow, dodging cars, nearly wiping out a few times, and having to actually run instead of skate, she gets there too late for her comfort. All she can think of is the fact that Takemichi might be dead and she’ll be left alone, faced with people who have no idea who she actually is. She can’t let that happen. She has to protect her brother. She has–

She skids to a stop. The lot of the church is filled with bodies. Ones wearing the uniform of the Black Dragons. She skates around them slowly, getting a sense of deja vu from the last time she was in a parking lot after a big fight.

“Oi! Takara!”

She looks up and sees Draken sitting on the steps of the church. She races forward, walking as best she can where the snow has started to gather. If it keeps falling like it is, she’s going to have a hell of a time getting home. “What the fuck happened?”

“Mikey went inside to see what was going on. I dealt with the mess out here. What’re you doing here?”

“I came to find Takemichi. Save his ass from getting himself killed.” She moves up the steps quickly, seeing Draken’s surprise at the ease in which she moves. She pauses on the step below the one he’s sitting on, careful to balance herself in place. Draken looks like he’s ready to grab her the moment she slips. Not that she will. “What are you doing here?”

“Mikey heard Mitsuya’s bike. Made us come check it out. This what you called about?”

“Yeah. You didn’t answer.”

“Just saw the missed calls now.”

She glances up at the doors of the church. “They still in there?”

“Yeah, shouldn’t be long now. Just wait. Mikey’ll look after them.”

“That doesn’t work if he’s too late.”

“Mikey’s never been too late,” Draken says. “Did you skate here? Aren’t you freezing?”

The door opens before she can respond to that. She looks up to see the giant she cracked her bat over stumble out, calling on his men to fight. She glances back, just to make sure she didn’t hallucinate them all being knocked out. Draken says something and she turns to see Taiju fallen to his knees and one of the others follow him out.

Draken gets up and heads inside and Takara follows. The sight of her brother has her moving before she even thinks. He’s battered and bruised, looking like he’s been put through hell. She doesn’t even respond to the way his eyes widen at the sight of her. Takara turns automatically and heads back out, ignoring whatever they’re saying as she moves to Taiju who’s still kneeling in shock. She lifts her foot and slams it into his face, rollerblade and all.

“Hey!” someone yells.

“What the fuck did I say?!” She snarls, kicking him again. “What did I say?!” She catches him under his jaw, sending him flying back. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

She’s grabbed before she can skate forward, an arm around her waist pulling her back. “Let go!” She slams an elbow back to make them release her.

“Takara!” Multiple voices call out to her, but her focus is simply on Taiju who’s barely moved from her last kick.

“I’m going to stomp his fucking face in!” She snarls, still trying to get out of whoever’s holding her. They’ve lifted her up slightly, ensuring she can’t reach the ground to gain traction.

“Takara! Stop! Please!” Her tunnel vision is broken as Yuzuha steps in front of her. “Please! He’s my brother.”

“He’s an fucking piece of shit!” Takara snaps, but she slows in her attempts to be freed to stomp on him. “Look what he did to my brother!”

“I know!” Yuzuha snaps back. “I know.”

There’s something about the way she says it, the look in her eye that makes Takara stop. She inhales sharply. “Fine. But only because you asked.” She doesn’t really want to lose one of her only female friends. Even if he does deserve it.

She’s slowly put down and the arms around her retract once she takes another deep breath. Takara turns, glaring at Draken who was the one holding her. He stares back, unimpressed.

“We did it!” The others finally cheer in relief and she looks around, noting that Hanma and Kisaki are nowhere to be found. It thrums under her skin. Fuck any of her plans. They wouldn’t be able to hurt her brother in the future if she killed them now. She knows she should probably be alarmed at how fast she’s willing to commit murder.

Her thoughts are suddenly stopped as Takemichi passes out. “Take!” She lunges forward but Mitsuya gets to him first. “What’s wrong? He needs a hospital!”

“He’s okay,” Mitsuya says. “He just got knocked around.”

“Too many head injuries can lead to brain damage! He’s stupid enough already!” Takara protests.

“He’s fine,” Chifuyu tries to reassure her. “He’s strong. He’ll wake back up soon.”

She feels her throat tighten in worry, eyes burning with tears she refuses to shed. She was so worried about him.

“Come Kara-chan,” Mikey offers her a hand, helping her stand as Mitsuya moves Takemichi onto his back. “Why don’t you tell us what happened?” She lets him pull her to her feet. He holds onto her hand as they go down the stairs. She’s a little grateful, feeling a tad unsteady after watching her brother pass out. She keeps her eyes on Takemichi, even as she tells Mikey and Draken about being told their plan and how she remembered while she was at Hina’s with Emma because he broke up with her. How it was another stupid plan of his.

“I got an idea.”

Mikey gets on his bike and both Mitsuya and Draken put Takemichi on behind him.

“Is that safe?” Takara asks. “What if he falls off?”

“He won’t,” Draken assures her. “Mikey’s shorter so Takemitchy’s going to be leaning forward. We’ll be behind them to make sure nothing happens.”

“We will?”

“You wanna skate in this snow?” he asks, motioning around. “‘Sides, looks like Mikey has a plan.”

She looks over to see Mikey tucking his phone back into his jacket. “Let’s go!” Mikey calls out.

Draken helps Takara get on his bike, offering her a hand so she doesn’t wipe out in her attempt to get on with rollerblades. He gives her his helmet, checking that she locks it properly before getting on in front of her. It’s awkward. She’s left wrapping her arms around his waist and trying not to breathe in his scent as she tries to keep her rollerblades out of the way of his feet and the wheels of the motorcycle. He’s solid under her hands and she feels tiny in comparison. It makes her stomach flip in ways she wishes it wouldn’t. She closes her eyes and tries not to think about it as they take off.

“So Hanma and Kisaki were there?” Draken asks once they’ve all parted ways, aside from Mikey.

“Yeah, they were planning the thing with Take,” Takara yells back. “Ran into them in my fucking house.”

“Didn’t see any sign of them when we got there.”

“A fucking set up,” she says. “Probably wanted Takemichi to take all the fucking hits.”

He doesn’t say anything else until he finally informs her that “Takemitchy’s up.”

⛸️

Emma’s still there when they finally stop in front of Hina’s place. Takara moves away from Draken, not wanting to cause any complications.

“What–why did you bring me here?” Takemichi asks, looking back at Mikey. Mikey just shrugs.

“Go talk to her, idiot!” Takara smacks the back of his head. “Honestly, how hopeless can someone be?”

“This coming from you?”

“Yes!” she snaps, shoving her brother towards Hinata. “Go!” She rolls her eyes as Takemichi stumbles forward. She snorts as she watches her brother struggle to talk to his girlfriend.

“They’re so cute,” Emma says, grabbing onto Takara’s arm. The sudden weight nearly sends her sprawling. She catches herself before she ends up pulling Emma down to the ground with her.

“They are,” Takara agrees, smiling at the younger girl. “I can’t believe he broke up with her.”

“I know!” Emma looks at her. “What about you and Ran? Are you dating?”

“What?” Takara freezes and tries not to look back at Mikey and Draken. She can feel their eyes on her now.

“You were with Haitani again?” Draken asks and Emma’s hand flies to cover her mouth when Takara winces.

“Sorry!” she whispers quickly.

“It’s fine,” Takara whispers back before turning to look at the boys. “Yeah, I ran into them while shopping, before Hinata messaged me.”

“Shopping where?”

“Shinjuku. They said they were meeting someone and saw me,” she shrugs. “Ran helped me shop.”

Draken looks over at Mikey who’s still watching her. He hasn’t said anything though. “That’s too close to our territory.”

“They left after we parted ways,” she says quickly. “Went back to their area.”

“How long were you with them?”

Takara shrugs. She doesn’t want to admit she spent a couple hours shopping with Ran, that he kissed her again, basically asking her on another date.

They’re all distracted suddenly as Takemichi falls to his knees, calling out Hinata’s name. He starts ranting, promising that he’ll protect her no matter what. When he starts giving examples…they all include the ways he’s told Takara that Hinata’s died in the future, it makes her cover her own face with her hand.

“Oh my god, Take…” she mutters, embarrassed for him. No one seems to find his rambling too strange though and by the end of it, he’s made up with Hinata and Emma is crying at the sight of the reconciliation.

Draken’s teasing of Emma’s tears makes Takara laugh. Mikey moves forward, claiming her brother again before Takara can get to him and she’s left with Draken, Emma and Hinata in the snow.

“Well fuck,” she mutters. She knows how this is going to go and she officially has no ride. Which means she’s going to have to trudge through the snow and wreck her blades even more. “I’m going home.”

“Hey, Takara, wait! You can’t rollerblade in the snow…can you?” Emma calls out to her.

“I am capable of many things, Emma. More than you can imagine.” It’s something her aunt…not her aunt, someone else. Maybe her aunt’s boyfriend? It was something he used to say before he’d disappear. She doesn’t remember what he did though. She doesn’t remember what her aunt did…or her parents…

“-kara?”

She jolts out of the memories that won’t come and looks over, seeing Emma and Hinata looking concerned. Draken is frowning a bit. “Don’t worry. I’ll message you when I get home.”

⛸️

It takes Takara two days before she has the time and energy to actually look through the bags that Ran gave her.

Most of it are clothes that he made her try on, but some are things she definitely didn’t grab including some lacy-looking underwear that she quickly shoves to the back of her drawer. She texts him quickly that he’s an asshole and continues looking. She pulls out a dress that she’s pretty sure she’s never going to wear.

“What is going on in that head of his…?”

Her phone beeps with a text and she looks, seeing a response from Ran: <been wondering when you’d go through it. Get my gift?>

<Aside from the clothes?> she texts.

Curiosity spurs her on and she digs through the bags, looking for what he’s talking about. She finds it in the bottom of the bag she’s looking through. It’s a folded knife. It’s really fucking pretty with the folded steel and chrome handle that changes colour between purple and gold when she twists it.

That makes her laugh. She sits on her floor for a moment, staring at her phone before she sighs, texting back a thanks before turning her phone on silent. Takara leans back, resting her head on the side of her bed.

It’s strange how easy it is with him. She’s never been involved with someone before, her brothers always chasing off anyone who was interested. Sometimes she was grateful for it, but other times it left her feeling sidelined again. It was fine for her brothers to be involved with girls, but the moment she expressed interest in someone, they rallied and ensured she didn’t get the chance. It was fine, she really was generally too busy to date with the amount of sports and recreational activities her parents put her in, but it was another weight added to the unfairness of being a girl in her family. It was different here. Takemichi didn’t seem too involved to stop her and her parents let her do her own thing provided she stayed out of trouble and kept up her grades…but even then, the only time they feigned concern was when she got the cops involved.

It makes her feel untethered. Free as she is to do what she wants, not what’s expected of her, she’s not used to it. She feels like she’s going to be swept away in a current, drowning despite how much she swims. It’s easier then to go along with it and adjust her course as necessary for her survival. For Takemichi’s survival.

Ran is not part of the current. He is a makeshift liferaft, one that she suspects will sink her the moment she thinks she’s safe. It won’t be his fault. His lifestyle is the same as the boys around her. Takara is surrounded by people whose hands are covered in blood, one way or another. She’s not sure there’s any way for her own to stay clean.

She knows she’s never done this before. Any of it. In the life she had, she was violent in the way one becomes with contact sports and older brothers, but she’s never gone out of her way to draw blood and cause injury in revenge. Her aunt once taught her how to make someone bleed and the ways to keep a man from taking her life from her, but she’s never used it before. Not like she has here. Her unwillingness to compromise, to fail in keeping her brother safe, is fueled by her desperation to keep someone who knows her. Her. Not the life or role that they shoved her into, but her.

Not that…she remembers everything about who she used to be. Her memories are fading and it terrifies her every time she realizes it. She knows it’s wrong. The way it slips from her mind the moment she’s pulled out of her thoughts should alarm her. But it doesn’t. She is letting herself disappear like sand fighting against the tide.

She can’t let it.

She moves before she can be distracted. Unlike her brother, she’s as organized as ever and it’s easy to find and pull a notebook out. She sits with her back against the bed, opening to the first page and starts writing anything she can remember about who she used to be. Memories. Descriptions. Facts about her and her family. Anything. She wants to keep it in some way before she forgets that she ever lived another life.

It’s less than it should be.

Takara doesn’t even manage to fill the single book. She tries. She digs through the pieces she remembers, the way she knows their faces were shaped and their best features…but a lot of it is blank. She can’t remember her brothers' names. She can’t remember her first kiss or the first goal she made. So much of it is fuzzy, like a movie she saw in childhood and now she’s grown and never watched it again. She knows it's there, she knows she’s seen it…but she can’t remember the details.

She throws the book at the wall, eyes burning as she tries to stop herself from crying. It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. She spent years trying to catch up to her brothers, trying to prove that she was just as good as them, that she could do the same things they could…and it feels like it’s stolen from her. Not the skills, but the reasons why she has them in the first place. She doesn’t remember who taught her how to skate and it breaks the dam. She buries her face in her hands, bringing her knees up to her chest, and cries.

tag list: @raith-way @zeleniafic @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse

@themaradwrites @kingsmakers @thatmagickjuju @awkwardchick87 @hayatoseyepatch

tr tag: @mitsuwuyaa @blackfire2013 @bleach-your-panties @reiners-milkbiddies

saudade tag: @thisbicc @scythegal @maraya-007

network tag: @pixelcafe-network

#mikey sano x oc #tokyo revengers fic #tr oc #tokyo revengers oc #tr fic #haitani ran x oc #hanma shuji x oc #shuji hanma x oc #ran haitani x oc #manjiro sano x oc #sano manjiro x oc #fic: saudade #oc: takara

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jonathan-samuel-smith · 1 year ago

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I'm gonna share it here because I don't have any other place to put it and if you dislike it's ok ignore this

But I have had this specific idea in my mind for days now where Damian is secretly trans, they just fear telling it to their family because they know everyone is just waiting for them to become batman or the demon, they're under a lot of pressure and then meet this boy (from school probably - both always meet in the art room when is nobody around, more calm to work)

They end talking a lot about art and stuff because they're in the same club, in one day Damian told this boy that they are always drawing their ideal girl but not "I would love to date her" but "I would love to be born as her, if I'm a girl I would love to be her" way

They keep meeting like that, sometimes they just talk about art, life or stay in silence. This boy ends up falling in love with Damian in both ways. Some stuff happens and Damian telling him about being Robin and their emotional struggling

This boy also has problems and the art room is a safeplace for them

At some point they kiss and decide to run away for their family together, start a new life with a new name in some God forsaken place

Years pass (maybe 3-4) and Danny (Damian's new name) is now a housewife in this farm, she always uses gloves when she goes in the small town to do stuff (bat paranoid still alive) and the boy is her boyfriend/husband, they're happy, they have animals then big bad stuff happens and Danny safe the day (everyone knows something is off with that couple but they accept it because they're nice) unfortunately there was a hero in that city and the hero saw what Danny did, then start investigating who is Danny

The hero then starts stalking the couple because they think her way to fight is too similar with the league of assassins and dislike it, Danny dislikes her stalker but doesn't kill them

Shit happens (again) in Gotham and Danny knows it, worrying about her family and with all the stalking things she decides to go back to Gotham, her boyfriend / husband doesn't like it (he hates it actually)

Honestly I have so many no happy ideas about this fic, this fic could end really bad but also some cute ideas like Danny and her partner save money for this new life and stuff, or they first kiss, the joy of wearing a dress in the street for the first time

Idk if I'll write this or just suffer with this idea, also Damian's new name could be: Danielle/Danny, Yesenia (Arab name) or other still doesn't know (I just want to talk about this with someone)

Oh yeah, Trans MTF Damian, like I kept almost writing with my "Damian the Mangaka" Fic! I've always moreso liked trans FTM Damian because I'm trans FTM and if I was going stealth I'd hate for someone to write a fic where I'm a girl. But like, Damian isnt a real person, nor stealth FTM, so it's just a weird little hyper-empathy thing.

I love the name Yesenia! and I love her retiring. Consider: BF/Husband is FTM. T4T gotta love it. Also for your consideration: Bf/Husband is Jon (maybe trans maybe not). ALSO for your consideration: GF/Wife is Jon. She goes by Sadie. She's super into the headpats meta. Loves stuffed animals. Yesenia coming out inspires her to come out as well and Yesenia is like "my yuri fantasies are coming true."

Yesenia looks just like Talia. It's adorable. She loves having long hair. Sadie is a butch lesbian and Yesenia thinks its soo attractive. She starts sending Sadie memes about crushing on butch women and Sadie is like "...do you like me?" Yesenia is like "What haha whatever gave you that impression?" "Well.... I like you. I can be your hot butch gf." Yesenia dies of gay panic (very sad story) just kidding they get MARRIED!!! LETS GO LESBIANS! I so so love jondami au where they are rebellious teenage lesbians. I want them to have sleepovers where they look back and go "Oh that whole thing was one giant egg moment."

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historiavn · 7 months ago

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ABOUT THE ROLEPLAYER

◈　NAME　 ⋯ 　callie

◈　PRONOUNS　 ⋯ 　she / they

◈　MOST ACTIVE MUSE(S)?　 ⋯ 　&.

VALORUMS: Shi’al Valorum (Star Wars)

HISTORIAVN: Agatha Morrible (Wicked), Ophelia Chronsturn (Fandomless), Anastasia Andrews-Ismay / RMS Titanic (Historical), Sarah Phillips (Liberty’s Kids / Historical), Abraham Lincoln (Historical), Cassandra Fatesworth (Bridgerton), Ethan Clay (Historical), Robert Todd Lincoln (Historical). I blame my Lincoln family muses on FINALLY getting to have free time for making Actual Progress with the musical that I’ve been developing about his presidency 😭

◈　RP PET PEEVES?　 ⋯ 　&.

People who conflate the muse with the writer. I run into this problem ALL THE TIME with my historical fiction centric muses (ESPECIALLY my historical figures, for obvious reasons), and as I always say in my rules, if someone can’t separate the writer and the muse, then they are not mature enough to write with me. For the MILLIONTH TIME �� just because the old dead white guys that I write as hold problematic views doesn’t that I endorse or have those views myself <33333333

Forgetting that plotting is collaborative, and expecting me to do all the work. If you want to interact with me, make an honest effort to match my energy and my contributions during the plotting process. Suggest some ideas and concepts of your own; I don’t bite!

◈　EXPERIENCE/HOW MANY YEARS　 ⋯ 　 I am pretty sure that I've been roleplaying since 2016, which was my freshman year of high school. The musical Hamilton was starting to become popular at that time, so that — as well as the adjacent American Revolution community — was my first RPC. George Washington and John Adams were my very first muses, and Celeste Franklin became my first ever original character created for roleplay. Since then, l've written on Instagram, Discord, and Twitter. Tumblr is probably my favorite platform for roleplay.

◈　FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT　 ⋯ 　Out of these three, I like writing a perfect blend of them all. However, my favorite type of roleplay is a secret fourth genre — hurt / comfort.

◈　PLOTS OR MEMES　 ⋯ 　Askbox memes all the way! They are a GREAT way to get interactions going, test the waters of a new dynamic, and start new threads! I also like using them as a springboard for the plotting process. When it comes to “plotting”, I perceive it as an umbrella term that encompasses exchanging headcanons about our muses or discussing character dynamics in detail, so to me it is an ongoing process that begins the moment I reach out to you OOC and continues throughout our roleplays. Plotting only ends when interactions between us end.

◈　LONG OR SHORT REPLIES　 ⋯ 　My replies tend to vary in length, and oftentimes these lengths will match your own. It is the substance that matters to me the most — you just have to give me something to work with by having some form of interaction with my character in your response, and I won’t bat an eye about how long it is.

◈　TIME TO WRITE　 ⋯ 　I try to get my responses done throughout the entire day, but the majority of my writing is typically finished in the afternoon, early evening, and right before I go to bed.

◈　ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES　 ⋯ 　As a writer with multiple muses, the answer is naturally “it depends on the muse”. I’d say that the ones I relate to the most are Shi’al Valorum, Abraham Lincoln (literally why I’m writing a whole entire musical about his struggle with mental health), Sarah Phillips, Emmeline Eisenhower, and maybe Ophelia???

TAGGED BY no one; stolen from @storiesbreathed <333

TAGGING @bijoupreciieux, @honorhearted, @audaciiae, @vyrulent, @redbraid, @greaterfinds, @peculiarbeauty, @frxncaise, @fallesto, @unwaivering, @bloodiedsails, @misfittcd, @0brighta, AND YOU. All tags on dash games are no pressure, so feel free to ignore this if you want! I like to use tags on dash games as a way to let my mutuals know that I see them even if I’ve been quiet or slow to reach out. Please let me know if you do not want me to tag you in dash games.

#╭ ⁞ ❏. dashboard games.

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izunias-meme-hole · 11 months ago

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"JACK NAPIER"/THE JOKER

"Want to know how I keep smiling?"

HERE'S THE FUNNY BASTARD MAN!!

Despite being a VERY well known gangster before his transformation, "Jack Napier" was a very secretive man, keeping his own history under wraps, and has no actual documentation of a true name, or birth date. However what was known about Napier was that he was the right hand man of Carmine Falcone's rival, Rupert Thorne, and he was often called to either "clean up a mess", or eliminate anyone who went against Thorne. However all of that changed after he got set up at Ace Chemicals, and met The Batman. Napier walked out of that encounter with raw blood red lips, chalk white skin, green hair, and a damaged face, and when he went to get surgery for his face as quick as possible, Napier ended up with a permanent grin. Finding all of recent circumstances absurd, Jack goes completely mad, convinced that life was just some big joke, and if that were the case he'd be the one sharing the punchline. So after killing Thorne and taking over his enterprise, The Joker was not only born, but fully prepared to cause chaos, ruin lives, and share his twisted works of art with Gotham City for his own amusement.

My Joker here is pretty much just a marriage between B:TAS, Batman 89, The Dark Knight, and The Arkham Games. A psychotic gangster who fell into a vat of chemicals, got some facial disfigurement, and began to see life as one bad joke, becoming a literal mad clown as a result.

After meeting Batman again, bro just got worse. Granted he was never truly fine to begin with, but not only did he become more unhinged and destructive after getting his chemical bath, but he became obsessed with The Bat after his second encounter with him. Now what sparked this obsession? Batman deciding not to kill him. Joker was confused at first, but he slowly began to piece it all together, and now had a long "game"... one that he planned on winning.

Harley Quinn is still brought to his side, and he's still a genuine piece of garbage to her, but he ditches her and almost kills her for real the MOMENT she successfully captures Batman all by herself, right under his nose. And they were around each other for 19 years.

This man is responsible for almost poisoning Gotham via a parade, turning Christmas Eve into Batman's most stressful night, a riot at Blackgate, the creation for Two-Face, the creation of Harley Quinn, the near-death of Barbra Gordon (who doesn't get crippled here and isn't Batgirl at that point yet), the traumatization of James Gordon, the death of Jason Todd, the endorsement of Project TITAN, a takeover of Arkham Asylum, the mutation of Killer Croc via TITAN, the traumatization of billions, the deaths of billions, and his final atrocity; turning Tim Drake into a mini-him through torment. This isn't his entire rap-sheet, but it's literally just half of the horrendous shit across the entire franchise along with some new shit that seems like it came from the old school comics. Like this man is likely to fill Gotham PD with actual pigs in cop costumes once as a more harmless prank just a day before doing something actually horrid.

The only limit to his cruelty is that whatever he does has to be peak comedy in his eyes, and if it doesn't reach that he'll actually be annoyed. Like bro didn't even plan on killing Jason Todd, he just wanted to send him back to Batman all broken down and beaten, but he was enjoying it too much and ruined his own work.

He still has some of his connections with the mob, and uses them for some of his schemes, however he's also willing to manipulate some mentally ill fellows from Arkham into helping him.

Enjoys a lil' internet trolling and memeing.

If he had a voice actor (That isn't Mark Hamill because he has retired from voicing the man due to the passing of the GOAT Conroy), it would be either Troy Baker, Michael McKean, Chris Hackney, Joe Zeija, Daemon Clarke, Mick Wingert, Keith Silverstien, Andrew Russel, or Haley Joel Osment.

So yeah. This is My Joker.

#the joker #joker #jack napier #batman #dc #dc comics #my art #my stuff #Batman: Dark Nights #(one behind the mask) mun izunia

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prodijedi-archive · 1 year ago

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`➠⠀:⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ GETTING TO KNOW YOU

respond to the following prompts out of character. then, tag nine others that you would like to get to know a little bit better.

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ ROLEPLAYER NAME :⠀⠀ Callie

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ ROLEPLAYER PRONOUNS :⠀⠀ She / They

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ MUSE NAME :⠀⠀ Count Dooku

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ PREFERRED COMMUNICATIONS / discord or tumblr messages for out of character chat? :⠀⠀ I'm fine with both Discord and Tumblr Messages, but ultimately, I prefer Discord since there are frequent issues with Tumblr IM's. Tumblr IM's also feel kinda ... formal to me for some reason, while Discord feels more casual??? If y'all want my Discord, feel free to message me and I'll give you my handle.

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ EXPERIENCE / how long you’ve roleplayed:⠀⠀ I am pretty sure that I've been roleplaying since 2016, which was my freshman year of high school, but I lowkey forget how I specifically got into roleplay??? All I remember is that since the musical Hamilton was starting to become popular at that time, I was part of the Hamilton Amino and first came across the concept of roleplay there. Since then, l've written on Instagram, Discord, and Twitter. Tumblr is probably my favorite platform for roleplay.

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ PREFERRED ROLEPLAY TYPE / fluff, smut, or angst? :⠀⠀ Out of these three, I like writing a perfect blend of them all. However, my favorite type of roleplay is a secret fourth genre — hurt / comfort.

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ PET PEEVES AND DEALBREAKERS :

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀Roleplayers interacting with my canon muses while ignoring my female original characters. I understand that I am not entitled to interactions, but it makes me feel uneasy — especially since my current original character muse is from the exact same universe and the same time period as my canon characters.

⠀⠀ Interpreting the “no attachments” rule in the Jedi Code to mean “Jedi aren’t allowed to love at all” rather than “Jedi acknowledge that possessive relationships where one cannot let go of another are dangerous and toxic”, and then turning this same misinterpretation as a plot point or headcanon in a roleplay. This has been debunked multiple times by George Lucas.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ People who conflate the muse with the writer. I run into this problem ALL THE TIME with my historical fiction centric muses, and as I always say in my rules document, if someone can’t separate the writer and the muse, then they are not mature enough to write with me.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ Forgetting that plotting is collaborative, and expecting me to do all the work. If you want to interact with me, make an honest effort to match my energy and my contributions during the plotting process. Suggest ideas and concepts of your own. This post has some great suggestions for improving your experience throughout the roleplay plotting process!

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ PLOTS OR MEMES? :⠀⠀ Askbox memes all the way! They are a GREAT way to get interactions going, test the waters of a new dynamic, and start new threads! I also like using them as a springboard for the plotting process. When it comes to “plotting”, I perceive it as an umbrella term that encompasses exchanging headcanons about our muses or discussing character dynamics in detail, so to me it is an ongoing process that begins the moment I reach out to you OOC and continues throughout our roleplays. Plotting only ends when interactions between us end.

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ LONG REPLIES OR SHORT REPLIES? :⠀⠀ My replies tend to vary in length, and oftentimes these lengths will match your own. It is the substance that matters to me the most — you just have to give me something to work with by having some form of interaction with my character in your response, and I won’t bat an eye about how long it is.

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ BEST TIME TO WRITE? :⠀⠀I write at all times of day, but if I had to pick, I’d probably say the evening.

`➠⠀:⠀⠀ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE? :⠀⠀Only to a very small extent. I will admit that I, like Dooku, am driven by a desire to change the world for the better and do occasionally find myself being cynical with regards to my country’s politics — but that’s about the greatest extent of any semblance that we may share. Out of all my muses, I probably self-project onto him the least 😭

TAGGING : ⠀@alootus, @jeditrash, @lostwcrlds, @sorehsu, @jedimessiah, @forcenexus, @vendettavalor, @jaigalorad, @hotchocolatejedi, @malka-lisitsa, AND YOU.

#⠇ ooc ⠇ ━━━ dave filoni stole my last braincell.#⠇ dash game ⠇ ━━━ i’ve been looking forward to this.#long post tw

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chemistink · 2 years ago

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I Know More Than You Do

A Takeshin for @foulpetsmusicfriend for @initialdsecretsanta

I'm sorry it's so late but here is some adorable meme fluff with these two. They're gross boyfriends. I love them. hope you do too.

“I need a what?” Shingo stepped away from the front fender of his hatch, hip hurting from the way he’s been leaning against it for over an hour now, listening to the way Takeshi has been rattling on and on about fuses and different amperages. Once, in a past that feels like another lifetime ago despite the short amount of time that has passed, he might have rolled his eyes at Takeshi and told him to get away from his car. He might have even made a dig at him, at his R32, at his Silvia from before. At his technique that he tries to perfect and is still shaky to handle. Once, not so long ago, he might have been a lot meaner than he is now as he leans against the roof of the car, watching Takeshi press the little rubber buttons on the scanner that he has plugged into the EK’s OBD port.

“It’s a power relay. Accessory relay, really.” Takeshi doesn’t look up from the scanner in his hand as he continues to press through menus. “I can clear the code but in reality, you’re better off replacing it now before you have to keep doing this.” Shingo wants to lean in, wants to ask Takeshi what the hell he means. Shingo really wants to kneel next to the driver side seat and put his knees into the concrete to get himself at a better level to talk to Takeshi during this. But he is still trying to keep some decorum of rivalry between them before the rest of the team becomes aware that Shingo hasn’t been pushing Takeshi’s buttons for a reason.

All of that aside, it doesn’t stop the way Takeshi sits up in the seat and leans further over to allow Shingo the perfect angle to see what he’s working on. It’s perfectly aligned to allow Takeshi’s head to rest against Shingo’s arm, if he wants. And Shingo doesn’t even have to lean any further into the car for a firm press of his knee against Takeshi’s thigh. It’s the perfect excuses. No one would bat an eye. No one would even notice, if there was anyone around to even care. Not when Shingo’s car is parked at Takeshi’s apartment complex and hidden behind the large body of the R32. Not when it’s barely light outside and the overhead light of the EG have to illuminate the small scanner that sits in Takeshi’s hand.

“Alright but what the hell does that mean, Nakazato?” Hidden away in the corner or not, Shingo knows better than to allow it sound like he’s affected by Takeshi’s presence. He’s here purely for his car, not because he’s here the morning after. That’s all. If he tells himself that enough, he wonders if the people around him will believe it too. Takeshi’s thigh bumps his knee and presses firm. “It means you’re going to have to head to the parts store and get a new relay.” He looks up through the thick black fringe that has fallen over his eyes. “Or do you need someone to hold your hand?”

The mock is far too gentle, and Shing is glad the parking lot is extremely empty at this point. He had taunted Takeshi, sure, started this whole thing, but it wasn’t like he meant for it to turn into anything. “Shut up, Takeshi,” he says under his breath as he nudges the thigh back. The dark is enough that the heat in his cheeks isn’t noticeable and he keeps his head tucked down to watch Takeshi work.

“I’ll go with you anyway, I need to look at getting a few things for the R just in case. Races are coming up and i don’t want to end up having to chase down something as simple as a tune up when I need to get to work later on.” Takeshi finishes whatever he’s doing and Shingo watches him lean down to unplug the scanner in his hand from the port and press the little piece of trim back into place. “And someone has to make sure you get the right part.”

“Shut up, Takeshi.”

The drive to the parts store is rather quiet, despite the fact hat Takeshi insists on having the radio playing when the R32 starts. He’s tried to convince Takeshi there isn’t any reason they need to have emo karaoke every time they have to drive somewhere but it’s never a firm thing. He always mentions it but he doesn’t stop Takeshi from turning it on each time. And most drives, he has to press his hand over his mouth to hide the fact that he’s also quietly singing along under his breath.

“It’s a ten minute drive.” He says when they get into the R32, Shingo giving Takeshi a sneer and a mocking seat belt mouthed as he sees the way Takeshi glares at him, waiting to hear the click of the belt into the buckle before he’ll even press the emergency brake down. “We don’t need a whole concert and I don’t even need this thing.” He tugs at the seat belt as it sits across his chest.

Takeshi rolls his eyes and he doesn’t even glance over at Shingo as he shifts, backing out of his spot. “It’s a ten minute drive, Shingo. You’ll live.”

There has never been a moment in Shingo’s entire life, since the moment he got his license to drive, that he’s ever regretted driving a manual. And driving with Takeshi has never made him feel anything but safe when he feels how smooth he shifts as they make it through the city streets. He loves having a hand on the shifter and in the EG, it’s so easy for him to feel comfortable with his hands occupied.

But now he sits so often in the R32, his hands thumping against his thighs, empty and sometimes colder than he’s used to. They’re free to do whatever he wants but changing the radio station and messing with the knobs of Takeshi’s car don’t interest him the way it does when he has to ride with anyone else.

What he wants to do with his one hand, his free hand, the one that drums against his thigh incessantly, is something he would only do in the dark cabin of the car, hidden away from the world, covered by the dark tint of the R32’s windows. So he waits for the right moment when he can reach over and place his palm over the knuckles of Takeshi’s hand.

He knows Takeshi could say something. He has before, each time they’ve done this before. He’s mentioned how sweet it is that Shingo shows the tiny bit of affection, even if he does it in the secret of the car, away from prying eyes. It had been a moment, the first time, when Takeshi had teased Shingo and instead of the usual snark back, Takeshi had gotten vulnerable Shingo with a slight pout and averted eyes who didn’t want to talk about it.

They’re better now. So much better now. Takeshi accepts the little bits of affection that Shingo is able to do when they’re out like this. And Shingo has learned to give more affections than just hidden away from the world. But Takeshi is kind by not bringing it up again and Singo thanks him by sliding his fingers into Takeshi’s and giving a gentle squeeze.

Shingo manages to keep his hand there, keeping his arm relaxed, his wrist moving with each shift of movement. He lets his head fall back and rolls back and forth as he watches out of the window while they drive, a short distance turning into a calm that Shingo rarely gets.

He’s glad for the way Takeshi parks, confident to a fault. It’s the same way he gets out of the car and the way he walks into the parts store, with Shingo in tow. But the way he’s confident to a fault is hilarious to Shingo when one of the cashiers comes around the counter to greet them and Takeshi holds up a hand.

“I know more than you do.” He says it with a straight face. Without any inflection in his tone. Like he truly believes that he knows more than the man who is literally employed to help them find the things they are looking for.

And Shingo believes that is the case but he won’t ever say that to Takeshi’s face in public. So he just rolls his eyes instead, connecting with the cashier when he looks at Shingo with wide eyes and a look that asks if Takeshi was being serious.

The relay is easy enough to find. The belts for Takeshi’s R32 are easy enough to find. Getting a gasket set and some extra oil is simple and Shingo has no qualms with grabbing the stuff from Takeshi’s hands so he can carry it and contribute to the search. Especially when a second employee comes around a shelf and Takeshi holds up his hand again and explains, once more, that he knows more and Shingo waits until the man makes his way back around the other side of the shelf to smile to himself with a little bit of pride.

“That’s so unnecessary, you know.” Shingo says as he holds out his arms for the brakes that Takeshi picks up to turn over in his hands, as if he’s contemplating not getting them. “I’m sure they don’t need to know that you know more than them.”

“You would think so but I had one guy try to tell me I didn’t know what type of R I drove and I’m not making that mistake ever again.” He grabs a second box and puts them both on top of the pile that is starting to fill Shingo’s arms. “He tried to sell me headlight bulbs that weren’t meant for the R. I’m not even sure they were meant for Nissans but that’s neither here nor there.”

Shingo happily carries the pile of parts that make his arms ache to the front, a smirk on his lips when Takeshi does it again, holding up the palm of his hand for the cashier to see as he starts into a speech they all know he has rehearsed and is told he has to recite with each customer that comes through. “Sorry,” Shingo says with a big grin. “He knows more than you.”

#takeshin #takeshi nakazato #shingo shouji #gross boyfriends

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northwest-cryptid · 2 months ago

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I think Once Human is one of the few Horror Games™ where it's very unintentional but in fact, I am the horror that all the monsters need to be scared of.

It's like if you took the hunter from Monster Hunter and put them against Eldritch Horrors except they don't go insane, they just have the same mentality of "I have to stop the big scary thing from killing people or innocent people will die." Which yes, is literally how Monster Hunter goes about 90% of the time if you actually pay attention to the plot, but I digress.

It's hilarious to me that this game markets itself as a horror game with scary monsters and such. Because it's one of the few horror games out there where I am not only relaxed playing it, but I will laugh about how horrifyingly powerful I am.

I remember during the last week on one of the first servers no one was actually around to run the big world boss invasion thing, so I just said screw it; I grabbed all my best gear and became a one man army on a mission to repel a giant eldritch god from my server. It was fun to get to do like, 30 person content alone and for once I'm not being sarcastic.

But it does mean that I entered the new server a lowly level 1 alongside a lot of actually new players; and now that I know exactly what I'm doing and how I'm doing it, I casually rushed past them all with a lead pipe to melee things to death and teach all the newbies that "...the spooky thing can't grab you if you're stunning it with never ending melee hits."

Next thing I knew I was leading a small pack of newbies through a town with a bunch of melee weapons as we casually slapped every poor eldritch entity that dared show it's face. So you'd literally see this "spooky monster" crawl out from around a dark corner and roar at one of us before being cut off by some guy rushing it down with a baseball bat. It became that one Jojo meme of everyone just kicking the shit out of that dude.

I've been playing on the new server for about 2 hours and I'm already nearly max level and have an end game build that will carry me through everything solo. This game is really good about, once you understand the mechanics at play; you become a master of your craft and can genuinely handle anything it throws at you alone, but you need to understand the mechanics first or you're going to feel like the game is impossibly hard.

Personally I'm all for that, and if you want to throw eldritch entities at me the whole time; alongside base building, and some fun co-op mechanics? Hell yea dude that's a recipe for a game I'm going to enjoy for a long time.

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demonicgod · 1 year ago

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[Asks from "Otherkin Ask Meme." Check my #ask game tag for the rebloggable ask meme, by user princeoframs]

This is really long so please only click the read more if you feel like dealing with a very very long post.

All art is sourced from the Grand Chase wiki.

Are you otherkin or therian?

Otherkin. I'm a fictive of Heitaros Cratsus from Grand Chase that identifies with his source in some soupy ass ways.

What are your kintype(s)?

Specifically, I identify as fictionkin of Heitaros Cratsus from Grand Chase. Related to that, I’m demonkin and divinekin/hearted. Most of those probably make sense enough, but because of my exomemories, it’s a bit more complicated to label whether divinekin or divinehearted is more accurate. My title was the Demonic God, which denoted how much power I had accrued during my time in Elyos. I literally fistfought three Goddesses and brought them to such a standstill their only option was using the last of their life force to power a magical laser bomb to kill me. Then, I spent the next few hundred years busting out of the Underworld and eating the divine reactor they slammed me with because I wanted to become a new Creator. I technically succeeded for maybe a few hours at most; so it’s difficult as a result to figure out whether I am divinehearted (that is, aspiring to divinity, but not being divine) or divinekin (seeing as I technically succeeded at becoming Creator, even if it was for a fraction of my life). I could say both, but my relationship to divinity is also fluid (especially considering my presence in a body that is not necessarily divine and is, in fact, a sack of meat appreciating the divinity of the world).

What was your awakening like? When was it?

My first awakening was when the body was in middle school. This was long before we understood that we were plural, so my awakening was muddied by a lack of clarity regarding our more-than-oneness. We came out of some religiously-exacerbated trauma with me splitting off in middle school as basically a parody of the devil. I was an asshole, and that identity kind of followed me through a dormancy to when I woke back up from it in late 2021. I still ID with that to some degree (I even mention it on my about page), but I ID a little bit more with Heitaros, because that’s the face that I found most comfortable, and it resonated with me. It was blistering at first, and the realization of a face in the context of the system made it a lot easier for me to not be so much of a rube all the time lmao.

When did you first hear about the kin community?

I believe we heard about the kin community first sometime in the middle of high school, through someone else we knew in the GC fandom, funnily enough lol.

Do you experience phantom limbs astral limbs?

We prefer the term “astral limbs” to describe appendages we don’t have that are not part of the human package. That said, I have four wings. They’re bat-like, and the bone/external membranes are a dark blue. The inner lining is a glowing bright blue, meanwhile. Both are the same color as my true body.

Do you experience any other shifts?

Yeah, I experience shifts relating to my true body (what’s my blog icon right now; I've included the full piece of art below too because it's the best official art of it). This involves a lot, including everything from my teeth to my claws. It’s just as disorienting as wing shifts considering I live in a twink’s body, lol.

What’s your favorite shift you get? Why?

Almost any of them count, but there are a few that make me feel particularly connected to my past life. My true body is one I miss a lot, but the body I took from Baldinar also has some particular meaning to me because I can sometimes use it to drag him into front lol. Also, I just like how I look wearing his features.

Tag who did it better lmao.

What’s your least favorite shift? Why?

Arguably, the same as above because sometimes intense shifts give me intense emotional pain. It's like having a head full of bees. Disorienting, confusing, and a little bit irritating, all at once. It tends to come with a little sauce side of dysphoria too, because the body's presentation doesn't match up with what I want to look like.

The only shift that makes me kind of uncomfortable is the shift I get of Kyle's body. He's in our system and comfortable around me, but it's just a little weird going from himbo to twink to sad Kingdom Hearts reject.

Can you make yourself shift?

Sometimes. Depends on who else is in front with me and what the state of the body is. With enough picrews I can kind of force a shift to my stolen body, though.

Do you have shift triggers, or do they happen randomly?

My shift triggers are usually emotional in nature, but active triggers are generally the same as my active front triggers. So, usually if I need to be in front, someone can jam me to front by engaging with those triggers, some of which make it easier for me to also induce a shift.

Do you have memories?

Yes. Practically my whole life. Some of it is just impressions, but some things are more in depth. These are also kind of front triggers for me, too, so the system will ask me to tell them more about my memories if they want or need me in front (hence me writing “fanfiction” about my source). My co-host is really good at this, and that's arguably the reason they're co-host; they'll regularly remember something about another headmate and then ask another to "tell them a story." They got like 300 pages of shit out of me by doing that lol.

What’s your favorite thing about your kintype? (The species, creature, etc)

The power. Not to sound too wild or anything lmao, but in my past life it took so much just to take me down, and the limited time I had with divinity was only better. This is a double-edged sword, of course, because I live in a chronically ill body (that is also a squishy twink), so yearning for that is kind of dangerous, but at least in-system that means no one is willing to fuck with me (at least in a “physical altercation” kind of way).

A good shift, especially if it comes with respites where I'm shifted in my sleep, leaves me feeling rejuvenated. It's like a reminder that no matter what, I still have worth and am still a force to be reckoned with. It feels like electricity, like a really good stretch after a long rest. I have no clue if anyone else can relate to this, but I hope it makes some sense.

Do you think kins are spiritual or psychological in nature?

Yes. Both. And sometimes neither. Sometimes one or the other. But for me, I’m a psychospiritual entity in a system that is disordered and engages in spiritual explanations. In other words, I don’t fucking care lol (/lh). It doesn’t matter to me, because I’m both, because my experiences can’t be boiled down to such a binary.

If you're one, the other, both, or neither, that's also not my business to pry. This shit is too queer to worry about splitting hairs.

Does anyone know you are otherkin? Friends, family, etc? If so, how did you tell them?

Yeah, most close family and quite a few close friends. Most online friends know, too.

Do you have any friends who are also kin?

Yeah!

Do you meditate?

Sometimes, but honestly at this point meditation is difficult to do in ways we like because of ADHD, dissociation, and the fact we basically dissociate all day at work and can’t easily build meditative strategies because of how that takes it out of us mentally.

Do you get kin dreams?

I actually decided to get better at lucid dreaming to try to have more, to be honest. Our sys used to be super into lucid dreaming, so I’m mostly just getting old muscles back up to snuff. It's been hit or miss all in all.

Even non-lucid kin dreams are usually really good though. Cathartic and a little bit sad to wake from, but you get over it when you're used to 'em.

Do you wish you were your kintype? Why or why not?

Depends. Would I still get to interact with my system? Would they be stuck in that body with me? If yes and no, then I would love to have my body again so I could actually squeeze the hell out of my headmates and also do the flying stim called “get up really high in the air and dive like you’re freefalling so you can parachute last second.”

Do you own any gear? If so, what items do you have and do you like to wear them?

Uhhhh skip.

Give a controversial opinion/your stance on some type of discourse.

This is purely because I’ve known a lot of misinformed kids before, but I think as a community we should be a lot better at being forthcoming about information and not being so quick to malign anyone that uses the term “KFF.” That term cropped up in my hiatus from the community (that hiatus being because people were bitching at psychological-related kintypes in all my fucking spaces), and by time I came back, no one could do anything but bitch about “KFFers” and never seemed to say anything more than the same BS I see in the plural community. It was only after almost two years back that we FINALLY found out what that’s “supposed” to mean, and it’s such a nonsense useless term that people I used to hang out with absolutely used it in a “misinformed but not bad-faith” kind of way (the “that would semantically be called a linktype but whatever” sort of KFFer). I get that there are people that want to make our community look bad, but y’all… those bitches have always been coming into our tags and spaces and planting fake blog posts to screenshot for r3ddit karma. Cringe is dead, spend your energy blocking/moving on and making otherkin dictionaries (like the cool people that finally helped me understand what the fuck y’all were bitching about lmao).

What makes you feel closer to your kintype(s)?

Just being me. I'm stubborn as Hell when I need to be, especially when it comes to things that better the system's situation, and that usually makes me feel like I'm trying to reclaim some of my old power. Boundaries are power, to be fair.

But if we want to get more specific, it's mostly front triggers that tend to get me feeling closer to my kintype, sure, but also writing about it as well. Anything that forces me to think about it and makes it easier for me to interface with headspace, basically.

What are some things that validate you?

We had a friend in college that said our voice sounded androgynous, and I know that's mostly gender euphoria speaking, but as someone who loves how I sound when I front? Yeah.

#demonkin #divinekin #otherkin #fictive #fictionkin #source talk #heit talks #this is what i did instead of working on art #but to be fair our joints feel like they need a whole can of wd40 after our shift today #and this is an excuse for me to appreciate my source art #some of it is uh #give or take in quality #but ykw i will take what i can get

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barbieidol · 1 year ago

Note

character questions 9, 21, 22, 31!

9. what is their greatest achievement ?

honestly, her greatest achievement so far is learning to be patient as a human. as a doll, there was never a question of there being something she wanted that was out of reach or that she couldn't get just by batting her eyelashes. she's coming from a world where she was constantly top of the charts, playing for huge crowds, receiving special treatment from the people around her at all times. she'd never had to fight to make her voice heard. she'd never been harshly criticized or rejected & the process of dealing with that alone in the real world is beyond terrifying & upsetting, but the way she gradually learns that throwing a tantrum won't hurry her career along is truly her biggest feat. it's what teaches her that she's not a quitter & she's willing to go to war for as long as it takes just to be able to share her music with the world. there's never been a doubt that she has talent, but that's rarely ever enough. she owes all her pending success to patience.

21. what do they like to do for fun ?

performing aside, because that's never not fun for her, she loves driving her little pink vespa around town ( alexa play speed drive ). self care days are also super fun for her because it turns out she's obsessed with bubble baths & crafting them has become some kind of ritual. she also hangs out with chloe a lot & is continuing the tradition of letting her use her as a model for her fashion designs. a girlie loves to play model.

22. do they have any hobbies ?

she has a poker group she meets up with on the weekends ! she suggested its creation just so to bring something from her old life into her new one. nothing too high stakes, it's just made up of a few people who work at the coffee shop with her but she does clean them out 9/10 times because she's just that good hehe. you'll also find her at the gym as often as her schedule allows. plus, she's in the process of learning french & italian because she really wants to go to europe someday <3

31. what does perfect happiness look like to them ?

perfect happiness is playing a new venue every week. knowing her music resonates with people. it's also a big apartment with a pretty balcony & a view of a buzzing concrete jungle. a closet you could basically live in. good friends near-by. most of all, her happiness lies in feeling connected to the people around her, her audience included.

meme

#mirrorballwon #( hc )#mwah💕

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disappointingcake · 2 years ago

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“Bat or Wayne“

One scene in a recent WFA (when Duke grapnels up the staircase and the witnesses only response is “Rich people are wild”) got me thinking: how many identity shenanigans do the Bats get away with not because they’re ~so amazing~ at being discrete, but because the Waynes do something completely ridiculous everyone shrugs and goes “yeah, that tracks”.

Then THAT got me thinking: what if people do it all the time? To the point where it’s become an in-universe meme?

Bat or Wayne: Once base jumped from the top of Wayne Tower.

Dick Grayson-Wayne. (It was a charity thing. The Bats regularly grapnel from the top of Wayne Tower, but that’s different.)

Bat or Wayne: Has a library card for the Gotham City Library branch in Park Row.

Red Hood. (And he posted a pic on Twitter proving it.)

Bat or Wayne: Has a "the usual” order at the Diamond District Batburger.

Tim and Cassandra (Going to Batburger together every Friday is their weekly tradition.)

Bat or Wayne: Has a “the usual” order at the Dairy King on McNeil.

Batman and Robin (Though it’s been a different order for each Robin.)

Bat or Wayne: Is regularly called a “dickhead” by their siblings.

Nightwing. (The Wayne kids are actually very defensive of their eldest brother’s preferred nickname. [In public. Calling Dick a dick is a family-only privilege.])

Bat or Wayne: Every member can drive a motor cycle.

Trick question, it’s both. (Yes, even Damian Wayne, though he’s only allowed to drive on private property until he’s 17.)

Bat or Wayne: Is banned from every Red Robin in New Jersey.

Red Robin. (There was this one villain who tried to- look, it’s a long story.)

Bat or Wayne: Is banned from every Red Robin in California.

Tim Drake-Wayne. (He was there for a conference and- look, it’s a long story.)

Bat or Wayne: Is banned from every Waffle House in the United States.

Spoiler. (They even have a picture of her posted in every location with “DO NOT SERVE” on it. No explanation has ever been given, by either side.)

Bat or Wayne: Can do a quadruple sommersault.

Dick Grayson-Wayne again. It was the signature move of the Flying Graysons, and is an acrobatic feat that can be achieved by only a few people in the world. No Bat has ever been documented performing one. [*cough Tim cough*]

Bat or Wayne: It’s a running joke for their siblings to put on sunglasses when they show up.

Duke Thomas. (He is, quote: “The sunshine child.”)

Bat or Wayne: Got caught by mobsters trying to smuggle exotic animals out of a bad situation.

Ironically, the Signal and Damian Wayne. (Apparently, Damian had snuck away during a field trip to an animal shelter to “liberate” some neglected parrots. The Signal was investigating that particular shelter for exotic animal smuggling, and Damian got caught up in the commotion.)

Bat or Wayne: Calls their adopted father figure “B”.

It’s both again. (And yes, it’s as adorable as it sounds.)

10/23/23 edited for clarity

#only in gotham #batfam #batfamily #batfamily headcanons #dc #DC Headcanon #wayne family adventures #and thats not even getting into all the kidnappings #i feel like cassandra is under-represented but this post is so long #edited for clarity

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therealtsk · 3 years ago

Note

Previously silent witness to the ask game here. Would you be willing to elaborate on your thoughts on Armsmaster, particularly in how you think the fandom botches his characterization? Thanks.

ayyy, blastweave good to see ya as for Armsy: he gets hit with the fanon bat hard, in a lot of ways. In canon he's an exceeding competent leader, combatant, and strategist with years of experience under his belt. He's perhaps self-reliant to a fault, mirroring Taylor in how they trust themselves too much and others too little. He's egotistical and arrogant, convinced that he's important, that he's a hero. That he knows best, that it has to be him, and him alone, who can save them all. And then he's branded a war criminal and the slaughterhouse nine nominate him as a member. his sense of self is fully broken down and rebuilt as he hunts down the nine, and it's only through the power of the people who love him that he grows and becomes both a better person and a better hero- Defiant. The fandom sees this (or doesn't, considering the depressing number of people who write fic without having ever so much as touched the source material) and decides to near-universally write him as an unfeeling rObOT who is completely social incapable without Dragon hanging around him, which she is nearly 24/7, and he never gets to accomplish anything of note so long as the SI- er, sorry, alt!Taylor is around. Or, in the rare case where he is the main character, instead of giving us the overconfident, bold but brash man that he is, he tends to get woobified to the point of being unrecognizable and given so much artificial angst that just- why? Why do this when he's perfectly tragic in canon? I'm fine with people inventing backstories and trigger events that fit since iirc we don't get one for him in Worm itself but the amount people feel the need to change him when his character arc is already one of the best ones in the source text is just infuriating! And honestly, at the end of the day- it's not so much people changing characters that bother me. If you want to take a new spin on a character through an AU or whatever- sure! Go nuts. It's people who alter characters and then refuse to admit that they have altered them- or worse, insist that their versions are canon-compliant, since that just creates more misinformation and arguments in a fandom rife with both. so yeah that's the deal with armsy in the worm fanfic fandom. either stale meme or unrecognizable shell.

#artbyblastweave #worm #parahumans #colin wallis #armsmaster #defiant #fandom shit #i know that fanon stuff happens in every fandom #but the extent and consistency that occurs in worm is just insane #the fandom has literally been doing the same things for like seven years

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frie-ice · 2 years ago

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What I would Like to see in Gotham Knights

With the game coming out pretty soon, from how the release date was moved to this year than the next, I thought this is the best chance to share my thoughts on what I would like to see in the game.

Starting with characters I hope to see in it. I know they said no DLCs, but after the game comes out and become a success, it will give them the money to do DLCs.

This is a filled in meme I made on Deviantart and here is the original Top 5 Characters That Should Appear In Gotham Knights meme, for those who want to give it a try. As long as you remember to share and credit me. I made this long before the villains tailer came out and confirmed that Harley Quinn will be in it, even though it isn't the Harley I was hoping for. The one that has cut ties with Joker and just wants to create chaos with her pals, that aren't henchmen. The trailer has me thinking that she could still be in league with the Joker, who is no doubt grieving for Batman and has left Harley in charge or something like that.

I know that Tim is Robin in the game, but I would love to see Damian Wayne (even as a baby) in it. And who knows maybe Damian might become Red Robin in the game, similar to how one of the plot options in interaction movie version of Under the Red Hood, Batman: Death in the Family can have Jason become Red Robin than Red Hood. While a young Tim was made Batkid than the third Robin.

As a sucker for the Bat Family, who wouldn't want to see Batwoman, Spoiler and Batwing joining the Knights or simply lending them a hand. If Kate's cop girlfriend is serving as the new Gordan to the Knights, it makes sense to add her in as well. Spoiler would make things interesting when playing as Tim, if the game's universe has them having the same or similar history that their comic counterparts have. If Lucius Fox is helping the Batfamily to honour of his friend and boss, I'm hoping that Luke Fox will be making an appearance as well. These characters, along with Damian, would serve as great add in characters for DLCs. As it would give us other Knights to play.

Before I change topic, it would also be cool to see Catwoman, Scarecrow, Bane, Ra's or Tail al Ghul, Monk, Nocturna and possibly Green Arrow in the game as well. I know that Green Arrow isn't a Batman character, but the two are friends and like any friend he would want to lend Batman's young partners a hand.

After seeing the Gotham Knights - The Batman Family Behind The Scene Trailer, it got me to think about the Batfamily moments we'll get to see in the belfry. Me, I think a cut-sense of Alfred showing the four a photo album of Bruce's childhood would be cute and heart-warming. Along with him pulling out another album or two that has photos of Dick and Jasons' childhood in the manor with Bruce, along with photos that were taken of Barbara (before or after she and Dick brock up) and Tim. This would have the four Knights trying to hide any photos that are too embracing, cracking jokes and remembering the good times they had with Bruce.

A game night moment would also be fun to see.

So, this was my last minuet wishlist for Gotham Knights. What do you think about these thoughts, and what are you hoping to see in the game.

#gotham knights #gothamknights #damian wayne #stephaine brown #luke fox #harley quinn #batwing #batwoman #kate kane #robin #damian robin #game #bat family #batfamily

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houseofhurricane · 3 years ago

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to a nightingale: chapter two

Summary: Gwyn Berdara, an up-and-coming reporter at the House of Wind, is given an assignment most journalists would kill for: exclusive access to the Bat Boys as they tour to promote their new album. The only problem? She's met Azriel before, on the worst night of her life. Though he saved her then, he knows too many of her secrets. Gwyn knows she should keep her distance, but there's an undeniable spark between them that threatens to set fire to the life she's carefully constructed. And maybe, deep down, that's exactly what she wants.

Chapter Word Count: 3,974

Warnings: This chapter contains references to past assault. In addition, this fic contains gun violence and mature consensual sexual situations.

Art: @carol-pisarro

All chapters are available on Archive of Our Own and Wattpad. All previous chapters are linked here.

Though Azriel insists on walking Gwyn to her apartment, and gives her a quick hug before she crosses the threshold, her photo doesn’t make it on the internet or any gossip magazine. Instead, by morning, the headlines are filled with raves about the new Bat Boys album, Twitter going wild to figure out each reference to Feyre and Nesta, though the real focus has become the identity of the Nightingale, a project that has already racked up a million Tweets and at least a dozen memes, though Gwyn performs this count before she has her coffee. Clotho calls to give her the morning off to celebrate and pack, and Gwyn spends most of that time hovering between her phone and her suitcase. She selects and discards a half-dozen outfits before throwing clothes in and hoping for the best.

By the time Gwyn makes it to the House of Wind offices, dragging her suitcase behind her, Twitter has decided that Elain, the middle Archeron sister, must be the Nightingale. #ThreeBrothersThreeSisters is trending, and there are photostories connecting a necklace that Azriel sings about with a pendant Elain sometimes wears around her neck, a rose with opal petals that refract the light into rainbows.

Clotho’s in the middle of a conference call with a potential investor, but waves Gwyn into her office, pulling up Twitter on her phone.

Write about the Nightingale, she mouths, and Gwyn’s stomach sinks. Because she can’t lie, but she’s afraid to tell the truth.

She falls into her favorite chair at one of the long communal tables where staffers work and fills the next hours researching and trying to calm her swirling thoughts. In the end, she’s surprised with how much she likes the piece, which shows why Elain is unlikely to be the Nightingale, how at minimum, her golden-brown hair and deep brown eyes do not match the description in the lyrics. She makes a plea to allow artists to enjoy a little mystery, to enjoy the story without trying to pin it to real life.

She ends with a question: Don’t we all want to imagine we’re the Nightingale?

When she emails the file to Merrill, an urgent editorial request blessed by Clotho, she dreads the scrutiny of their brilliant and fearsome senior editor.

“You actually put some thought into this, Berdara,” Merrill writes back within the hour, “I thought this would be a puff piece I’d have to deflate, but you’ve done pretty well. Not sure about the last question, though. Might raise questions about your objectivity. My other notes on the doc in red.”

The edits aren’t as bad as Gwyn had worried they would be, and she files the piece two hours later, with plenty of time to head to grab a quick dinner before watching The Bat Boys’ first show of the tour. She even has a few minutes to arrange her favorite pens alongside her notebook and recorder before she leaves for the arena.

Around her, the office is filled with the sound of fingers clacking on keyboards. Clotho gives her a little wave, and Gwyn wonders why it feels so final, leaving the House of Wind like this. She’ll be back soon, she reminds herself, the same person she is right now.

There’s a moment in between their last moments backstage and the first chord when the Bat Boys transform. Gwyn has seen it before with other bands, but the transformation is more profound. Rhys gives Feyre a last kiss, Cassian wraps his arms around Nesta, Azriel checks the tuning on his bass one last time, and when they turn to the stage, they’re larger than life, some kind of magic blazing in their eyes.

The screaming audience goes silent as they begin Your Starlight Eyes with no preamble, and Gwyn wishes for a second that she could just let herself be swept away by the music, those three voices in harmony.

Then she catches a glimpse of Feyre’s shining eyes, mouthing the words, and she finds her angle.

When the song ends, she passes Feyre a note asking for an interview, and Feyre gives her a smiling nod in the midst of her clapping and cheers. Gwyn feels a little tug on her denim jacket.

“She’s always like this about Rhys,” Nesta Archeron says, the eyeroll easily audible even over the continued cheering. “You get used to it after a while.”

Caught between awe at the person who got her this gig and the truth, Gwyn falls back on her training. “I think it’s sweet,” she whispers. “It’s her song, too.”

“She’s a better writer than she gives herself credit for,” Nesta says, her face softening a little, though the sharp lines of her face remain, exquisite and a little terrifying. She wears her hair in her trademark coronet of braids and the effect is majestic.

“I’m surprised you didn’t contribute a song.” She considers reaching for her notebook, even as Rhys begins to pick out the notes of the next song, one of their older hits, but guesses that it will only make Nesta warier.

“I’m a reader, not a writer. That’s on the record, if you want it.” When Nesta winks, the gesture reminds Gwyn so much of Cassian that she can’t bite back her laugh.

She opens her mouth but Nesta speaks before she can answer the question.

“Elain isn’t the Nightingale,” she says with a smirk. As if she knows more than she lets on. “She’s living with her boyfriend in DC. He’s the one that gave her that rose necklace after years of pining. She texted me to say she can give you a quote if you want it.”

“I think I’ve shut that down as much as I can.”

“You know people will only keep looking.” Again that too-knowing tone.

“Everyone gets tired of searching eventually.” At least that’s what she tells herself. And maybe she’s imagining it, but she swears that Nesta’s expression softens just the slightest bit.

Before she can be certain, the music swells, and Nesta turns back to the stage, as focused as Feyre, and Gwyn keeps trying to capture the concert via broken phrases in her notebook, carried away entirely from the conversation, the logistics of her life.

She finds herself wishing she could twine her own voice around the songs. There’s nothing missing in the melodies or the harmonies, even the arrangements, which are filled out occasionally by local musicians, some of whom she recognizes with delight. But Gwyn can feel an empty part of her heart as the music rises around her, one that she doesn’t want to admit isn’t filled even by her most incisive articles or well-turned phrases.

Still, she lingers in the shadows, writing and listening and watching, a spy of sorts for the House of Wind, in search of whatever secrets might be offered up.

Gwyn didn’t try to get Azriel’s attention before the concert, but he aims directly at her once it’s over, his bass slung over his shoulder.

“How was it?” His voice is a little hoarse, a little too loud from all the sound that’s passed through him over the last two hours, but she can tell that it’s a real question. And Nesta and Feyre are too busy kissing the other Bat Boys for anyone to notice her, so Gwyn lets herself beam at him, shows him she’s more than a little starstruck.

“The album is a masterpiece but it’s better in person.”

“I was a little off on Ocean Eyes.”

She shakes her head, though of course she didn’t miss the crack in his voice. Wondered if she might have anything to do with it, there in the backstage shadows. Wondered if she was thinking too much of herself.

“It only added to the effect, Shadowsinger.”

At the nickname on her lips, he gives her a crooked smile and his hand reaches out. He curls his fingers around her elbow, and she can feel the heat of his grip even through the denim.

“Want to talk about it more in a bit?”

The image in her mind is this: a dark corner, Azriel’s body over hers, his breath thick in her ears as he rucks up her camisole, frantic to get his hands on her skin. Nightingale, he calls her in the safety of her mind.

Part of her is relieved that she can want again, can imagine his lips and fingers on her body and only feel a deep and coiling need. But the other part of her reminds her that she’s built this whole new life. All it would take is one shitty iPhone selfie at just the right angle and her fledgling career will vanish.

He sees her hesitation. Gwyn can see it in the way his posture shifts, in the way his face becomes a little more pleasant while his eyes go just a bit dull.

“I have to put the bass away, greet some fans. But after, Rhys and Cassian and I always have one glass of whisky together. We’ve expanded the circle a bit recently. You’d fit right in, I think.”

“I’d like that,” she says, her head nodding along, a gesture he mimics with a little smile, like they’re making an inside joke together.

“Then I’ll text you the name of the bar,” he says, before disappearing into the shadows.

Gwyn is wondering how the three of them have preserved this tradition without attracting the media’s notice, realizing she should write about it and also that she doesn’t want to, when she hears graceful footsteps behind her. A dancer’s walk.

“What’s your secret, Berdara? I’ve never seen Az invite anybody to post-show drinks,” Nesta says. Her slender arms are crossed over her chest, her flawless porcelain skin doing nothing to make her less dangerous.

Gwyn smothers a gasp, reminds herself that she’s done nothing wrong. Not yet.

Still, she selects her lie carefully when she says, “Right place, right time.”

Nesta gives a little snort and waves her further backstage, where the band and Feyre have already disappeared.

Gwyn steels herself, then asks the question she really wants Nesta to answer: “How did you find my writing?”

“My assistant was a fan, and insisted I check you out,” Nesta says, and then, softer, the admission of what Gwyn suspected during the concert: “Your writing is good but your singing is better.”

“How did you find me?” Gwyn’s words are barely a breath, caught in her throat. Despite bracing herself, she still feels caught.

“YouTube.” Nesta shrugs, her eyes intent on Gwyn’s face but not unkind. “Your secret is safe with me, but you’ve done a shitty job of hiding, if that’s what you want. Are you in danger?”

Gwyn shakes her head, swallowing the lie the way she always does. Because despite her best efforts otherwise, those men are still free. But maybe it’s Nesta’s silver-blue gaze that makes the rest slip out of her.

“I wanted -- I needed a new life. Something happened. A lot of things. I stopped knowing how to be the person I was before. It was easier to make myself someone else.” She thinks, rueful, that her therapist would be proud of this stammering little speech. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” Nesta says, holding out her hand. “For the record, you’re a talented journalist. But when I heard you sing, that was a gift.”

“The audio quality must have been shit,” Gwyn says, eyeing Nesta’s outstretched hand.

“Some of the worst I’ve ever heard,” Nesta agrees, and then Gwyn can’t help it, she squeezes Nesta Archeron’s hand in both of hers, not caring that her notebook and pencil scatter on the ground.

Aside from Azriel, no one has really seen her in a while.

The Bat Boys have reserved a small private terrace at the top of Andromeda, a chic little bar a short walk from the stadium. Above them, the stars blanket the deep expanse of the sky, and their table is covered with handles, making the cool night a little cozier. At first she’s quiet, not wanting to move towards Azriel, to think through what it might mean, and takes tiny sips of her wine while Cassian teases Rhys for a part of their between-song banter, Azriel playing referee while Feyre and Mor laugh over their drinks.

“Hello, new girl,” a woman whispers, and Gwyn looks into golden uptilted eyes, “I’m Emerie.”

“Should I call you old girl?” Gwyn asks, and Emerie breaks into a bright smile. She’s beautiful, Gwyn thinks, her russet-brown skin gleaming even in the night, set off by a perfectly tailored white blouse.

“I think Mor would approve of that,” she says, flashing her left hand, where a diamond sparkles on her ring finger. “She and Nesta said I should meet you. They said you’d probably be willing to talk books. Do you read romance?”

“Not recently,” Gwyn says, expecting Emerie’s face to fall, to have to explain that she hasn’t wanted to think about the possibility of romance for a few years. Gwyn can already hear the halting words in her mind, but Emerie only pulls her phone out and cheerfully makes half a dozen recommendations, telling Gwyn that she’ll definitely love this slow burn romance, that she’ll be screaming at the characters to finally kiss before she’s read the first hundred pages.

For some reason, that description makes her think of Azriel, who’s smirking at something that Cassian said, then looks up and meets her eyes. She feels the impact of that glance inside her body, pressing against her chest, making something curl deep in her belly.

He mouths something like how are you?

Gwyn sends him a smile, mouths better now with a little wink, but just as he’s making to rise, Nesta comes over and joins the conversation with Emerie, asking Emerie about her work. It comes out that she owns shops all over the West, hiring women who are looking to remake their lives, paying them generously and teaching them everything she can. She talks a little about working as a buyer for one of the big department stores, how she wanted a place that felt like home. She sells books and clothes and home goods, she says, but when she added a little cafe, with snacks and coffee, her concept really took off. Now her customers linger and make purchases and often help Emerie’s employees find new jobs when they’re ready for the wider world.

Gwyn thinks of Clotho, not as her boss but as the person who gave her a new life. She smiles easily, trying to keep her questions soft and light. Right now, she’s an interested party, not a journalist. She sips her wine and accepts a refill when it’s offered for the first time in a long time.

Something settles in her, talking to Nesta and Emerie. It’s been a long time since she had really close friends, maybe not since Catrin died, but even though she hasn’t known either of them before today, it’s so easy to talk to the two women who sit on either side of her.

Nesta is sharp but funny, and it’s clear that behind her tough exterior, she cares more than anybody, that she remembers the names of many of the women in Emerie’s employ despite only meeting them once. She talks about her editors and authors with pride, and when she promises Emerie a stack of advance copies, Emerie squeals loudly enough that everyone turns to look at them.

Emerie is warm but blunt, the kind of person who Gwyn could imagine going shopping with, who would tell her without hesitation that her dress or blouse didn’t suit. Whenever the conversation turns to novels, there’s a giggle in her voice, an excitement that grows as she and Nesta talk about their favorite authors, when they promise to send Gwyn books they’re both certain she’ll love.

They talk for long enough that Gwyn’s voice becomes a rasp in her throat, and soon after, Emerie and Nesta leave with Mor and Cassian, and it’s only Azriel and Gwyn at the long table, the mountains rising beyond them in the darkness, the stars overhead.

“Good night so far?” she asks, her fingers splayed on the wrought iron table.

“I wish we could’ve talked more,” he says, his hazel eyes intent on hers, like he’s trying to figure out what she’s thinking. “But I liked hearing you laugh.”

“Nesta and Emerie are incredible. Everything about tonight has been. It’s surreal to me that I had your poster on my wall in high school and now I’m drinking with you. Though I guess you probably hear that all the time.”

“I’m only trying to figure out where you got the poster. The first one only came out three years ago, and I know this for a fact because Cassian bought enough to wallpaper our bus with them.”

“That must have been horrifying.”

“I can tell you’re trying to keep from telling me where your contraband poster came from, Berdara.” His little smirk nearly undoes her.

“Well, Shadowsinger, if you must know, right after your first album came out, I spent an embarrassing amount of money at Kinko’s getting a photo of you resized for my wall and for my locker.” She’d committed to telling the story, but her cheeks are hot by the time she finishes.

“And did you and the poster get up to anything interesting?”

They definitely had, but Gwyn only takes one last sip of her wine and murmurs, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He smiles at her, bright and open, and says, “I could convince you to tell me, but I’ll forget all about your high school obsession if you’ll sing for me.”

Gwyn stares at him, sucking in a breath. She’s barely hummed to herself for the past three years.

“It’s complicated,” she says, after a long moment, twiddling the empty wine glass between her fingers. His hands move, gently, to cover hers, stilling her. She can feel each scar, each callus, the story of his life marked on his body.

“I saw your face during the concert. You looked sad, and… I think the best word is hungry. Like you wanted to be there. And I don’t think it was about the crowd or the fame or any of that bullshit. I think you wanted to be inside the music.”

She takes a deep breath. Because after last night, she trusts him with this information. And he was the one who saved her from so much worse.

“Those men at the bar? They’d been in the audience for weeks.” She closes her eyes, trying to still her mind. “I thought I finally had fans. But they were only waiting. Until I was alone and happy and drunk enough to let my guard down and follow them into that alley.” Her voice is ragged and his hands are tight around hers. She can feel his pulse in his fingers.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” There’s a promise in his voice, equal parts kind and wrathful. She can tell that Azriel means it. “And I won’t make you tell me whatever you did with that poster. But if you would sing for me, Gwyn, I would be honored.”

Her eyes are still closed tight when she takes in a breath and lets out the first words of Le Vie en Rose, her voice a little rasping from all the talking and the wine, but it suits the song, the way she likes it best, dreamy and more than a little despairing, the way Piaf would sing it in some Paris nightclub. She tries not to think about how romantic the lyrics are, the fact that she’s writing about the man sitting across the table from her while she sings about if you give your soul to me.

But despite all of it, Gwyn’s heart thrums in her chest as the music unspools from her. It’s not the same rush as singing her own songs, but she feels joyful and honored, using her gift, being trusted with these beautiful words, the melody with its loops and whirls. This is how she used to feel, in the perfect center of the music.

Halfway through, she opens her eyes and he’s looking right at her, like he’s trying to absorb everything about this moment. She has to close her eyes again, take a quick breath to steady herself, syncopating the phrase more than she’d originally intended.

When she finishes, the silence is laden.

In that moment, it occurs to Gwyn that she’s just closed her eyes and sung for a literal rockstar. How foolish that is. How arrogant, to think that she could offer him her voice, when she hasn’t sung in years.

Then Azriel is clapping, cupping his hands and mimicking the roar of an enormous crowd.

Gwyn has read every single interview he’s ever done and watched hours of his concerts, and she’s never heard him make such a fool of himself.

She opens her eyes, and the Shadowsinger himself is beaming at her, his perfect smile at full wattage. Goofy, even.

“You’re fucking incredible. Sometimes I thought I’d imagined your voice. But it’s real.” His words are in his smile, in his eyes. He’s not lying.

“I want to kiss you,” she says. She’s not thinking, only feeling the residue of the music in her body, the golden weight of Azriel’s hazel eyes on her, the brilliance of that smile and what it does to his perfect face.

She barely blinks and he’s moved around the table, taken her hands and pulled her to standing.

“You’re sure?” Azriel is so close that Gwyn can feel his breath on her lips, warm and faintly tinged with whisky.

“Yes.”

His lips are on hers, soft enough that she could move away if she wanted. But Gwyn only moves closer, toward his warmth, toward his mouth, memorizing the shape of his lips against her own. His hands span her waist, a gesture that makes her feel delicate and strong and safe all at once. She can almost feel all her fears melting away as she curls her fingers in his hair, inhales his scent of cedar and petrichor.

He licks the seam of her lips and she opens to him, savoring the taste of his mouth, the feeling of him. A little sigh escapes her throat.

He moves away from her, half a step. Even so, the night air between them feels too cold.

“You’re all right?”

She nods, then says, “I haven’t kissed anyone in more than three years. Haven’t wanted to. But I want you to know, before everything happened that night, I already wanted this to happen. Hoped that after I sang, we might get a drink and-- that something like this might happen.”

She blushes and her eyes fill with tears, saying it. The fantasy is stupid and frankly embarrassing, but it’s so much better than what actually happened, the terrible way she’d ended up in Azriel’s arms, sobbing with pain and terror and cold.

He presses a kiss to her forehead, pulling her close against his body.

“I’m glad you waited for me,” he says.

His phone begins to vibrate and when she checks her own, she realizes it’s past midnight, that they were supposed to be on the bus long ago, headed for Phoenix.

“Cassian says they’ll only hold the bus for us if we run.”

“Remind me why you all take a bus instead of flying?” she asks as he leads her towards the door, his hand still at her waist even at their speeding pace.

“Because the bus waited until I got to kiss you,” Azriel says, and she follows him down the stairs and into the waiting night.

Notes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I loved writing the scene where Gwyn sings for Azriel, as well as the scene where she's watching the concert and wishing she was inside it.

A few more notes:

- Sorry not sorry, #threebrothersthreesisters is now dead and buried in this AU. - The scene where Emerie approaches Gwyn to talk about books at a bar is definitely based on personal experience, with many thanks to the people who inspired it 🧡

See you next Thursday for chapter three and the aftermath of that kiss! In the meantime, you can follow me on Instagram at house.of.hurricane for a sneak peek, more Gwynriel content, and lots of theories.

Taglist: @almosttenaciousmoon @ashadowednightingale @azrielbedara @azrielsdarling13 @blissfulxblake @books0lover @brieq @brown-and-weird @camreadsum @cozycomfyliving08 @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @drinkbleach0 @earthofemily @foxwithagoldeye @gellybeangoogle @girlbossenergy @glemiessa @gwynrielsupremacy @haajarkj @hlizr50 @imsointobooks @katekatpattywack @ladytessaocizel @lightwood-bane13 @livelyblu @lola-lightwood @meher-sumedha @moonbeammadness @mystical-blaise @nansr @nervousninjasuit @onemorenightdreamer @pintas3107 @rubyriveraqueen @ruthieluvsbooks @sanniegirl1214 @saramoonbeam @secretlovelybeauty @shisingh @soffiiione @sv0430 @thecleversword @thenerdywriter @the-stars-eternal @trashforazriel @treadinglifeorslowlydrowning @valkyriesbooks @vassien-supremacy6 @vikingmagic33 @whoever-you-choose-to-love @witching-by-the-willow @zanywolffriendhairdo

Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

#gwynriel #gwynriel fic #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #acotar fanfiction #gwynriel supremacy #acotar #azriel #gwyneth berdara #azwyn #gwyneth x azriel #gwyn acotar #gwyn berdara #carynthian #shadowsinger #valkyrie #gwynriel modern au #azriel is a rock star and gwyn is a journalist #acotar fic

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