#(argue with the wall!! i have my qualifications!!!!!)
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spooksicl-e · 2 years ago
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do you think he’s more of a honk shoo honk shoo or a snork mimimimi type of guy
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ppppxseur · 1 month ago
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characters that i believe are black
what are my qualifications you may ask? i'm black. thats it those are my qualifications
also if i see a single comment about "blackwashing" i will lose my SHIT, i swear to god
also theres no fandom order for this so good luck trying to figure out what's coming next
MINA ASHIDO (MY HERO ACADEMIA)
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she breakdances, she's spunky, she's energetic. she's deffo one of those black girls who wears cookie monster pajama pants to school and adopts shy kids cuz she doesn't have that type of shame
like... need i make myself clear enough?
also she definitely has some sort of vitiligo
IZUKU MIDORIYA (MY HERO ACADEMIA)
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i mean... he has no father. horikoshi practically screamed in my face that this kid is black as fuck.
he deffo cant cook tho, which i like to think is something that bakugou teases him relentlessly for
also this boy is tenderheaded as fuck and cries when mina does his hair
LUCINDA (APHMAU MCD/MYSTREET)
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LOOK AT HER. look me in the eyes and tell me RIGHT now that that is not an albino black woman
you cant, im simply correct on everything
god i miss my girl. lucinda you deserve the world and you deserve all of the screentime and i cannot believe that bitch aaron SNATCHED the screentime that was rightfully yours
THE STRILONDES (HOMESTUCK)
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"but do you mean all of-" YES. ALL OF THEM. they are all black and they are all jewish hussie told me so himself, argue with the GODDAMN wall.
ARADIA / DAMARA MEGIDO (HOMESTUCK)
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my favorite weird girl <3
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"but the megidos are asi-" WHY ARE YOU IN MY HOUSE. SHUT UP.
first of all the fact that damara's typing quirk was just Straight Up Japanese (and not even GOOD japanese either) is NOT the best fucking look if you want to potray another race. but also people can be biracial that is a thing and i hc the megidos as being blasian.
there is everyone happy? good now lets keep going
NEPETA / MEULIN LEIJON (HOMESTUCK)
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(my second favorite weird girl)
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(my THIRD favorite weird girl)
i dunno. theyre my faves. i love them. therefore they are black. i feel like i dont need much explanation other than that
KARKAT / KANKRI VANTAS (HOMESTUCK)
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ugh. the thing that sucks about ones with family (or... i guess in the trolls case, the closest thing of "family" you can get) is that you have to make them all the same race or otherwise you have to explain the weird shit
kankri is lightskinned and uses his white passing privilege for evil.
also before you even THINK about trying to pass off white vantas: LOOK at their fucking storyline. just LOOK at it.
(before i move on from homestuck, i just wanna mention a quick side note: i didnt include gamzee or kurloz for one Very Obvious reason and thats the fact that, just like damara and her incredibly broken and bad Japanese as hussie's horrendous attempts to include other races in homestuck, i simply believe that the notion of all purple bloods being naturally incredibly violent is Not A Good Look. especially adding in that the only reason why gamzee is pacified is because he's doing the troll equivalent of hard drugs. and you can make an argument because... well.. what about kurloz? and to that my response would be WHAT ABOUT HIM? because i dont remember dick diddly and SQUAT about him and i dont really care.
so yeah i didnt include the makaras because while i do believe they are black i dont believe theyre the best representation because the only reason why people think that is because of the incredibly racist undertones of it)
ANYWAY i'm doing ONE more because this thread is already so goddamn long
POPPY AND VIVA (TROLLS)
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the silliest girls possibly in the entire universe. i think they're black and hispanic mixed (im thinking maybe dominican or cuban)
ANYWAY! end of this long ass fucking thread. i cant believe my first fucking post on this account was this monster of a thread
anyway, follow me if you like any of these fandoms ig
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sevendeadlywhispers · 10 months ago
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7Seals
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Chapter 6*
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•Previous Chapter: Chapter Five
•Next Chapter: Chapter Seven
• New chapters every Thursday
•Content: Levi Ackerman × OC female. Slow Burn! Canon verse!
• Word Count: 2.7k
• Warning: This content may not be suitable for all readers. If you've watched all of AOT then you will understand that the show handles heavy subjects such as abuse, racism, violence, and other heavy subjects. This fanfiction will also have the same heavy themes. Chapters with heavy themes will be marked with * at each chapter. This chapter contains themes of abuse. If this bothers you please do not read.
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78Fahrenheit (demo)  - Ethel Cain
2:22 ─────━❍─ 1:25
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The wind whispered through my hair as I guided my ODM gear through the intricate patterns of the training course. My body moved with a dance-like grace, effortlessly slicing through the air to sever the napes of the practice dummies.
The past three days had been a relentless cycle of one-on-one training with Captain Levi. His focus? My ODM gear and nape-slicing skills. Not a word escaped his lips during these sessions; he merely observed, occasionally mirroring my movements with his gear.
"You're using too much gas," Levi's blunt comment reached me as I returned from a practice run, my body dripping with exhaustion. Collapsing to catch my breath, Levi's foot jabbed into my leg, a harsh reminder that rest was a luxury.
"Get up. I didn't say you could sit, brat," he grumbled, his impatience evident.
"You're making unnecessary movements with your gas. Release, then move."
"Are you trying to kill me?" I retorted, still catching my breath. Levi's response was curt.
"It's not impossible."
"Fine. I'll do another run," I conceded, my determination overshadowing the fatigue.
"No. We're finished for right now," Levi declared. "Take five, then meet me on the training fields. We're recruiting today."
His words hung in the air, and I didn't argue. The training had pushed me to my limits, bruises from the gear darkening every day. The ODM gear, a relentless companion, left my thighs raw and my legs trembling. Levi's challenges extended beyond physical strain; they tested my mental fortitude, an arena where I was already grappling with the mess left by Alexander.
The pain echoed not just in my body but in the foggy recesses of my mind. Mentally checked out, I wondered how much more my body could endure and whether the cloudy aftermath of Alexander's actions would ever lift.
Doubts lingered in the air as I took my short break, sweat clinging to my skin from the relentless training. The question haunted me: Was I truly good enough for a spot on a special operations squad, especially one led by someone as formidable as Levi?
My mind circled back to Alexander, the one who knew me best, my companion for the past six years. His silent presence loomed in my thoughts, and a nagging doubt crept in – perhaps he had been trying to protect me, knowing my strengths and weaknesses better than anyone. Maybe he was right; maybe I was too weak for Levi's squad.
Levi made me feel like a mere shadow in his presence. Every spar was a reminder of my incompetence. He urged me to pin him, a simple task, yet one I struggled with. I hadn't even secured a spot in the top ten of my class. So why did Levi choose me? What did Erwin see in me that warranted such a position?
Survival haunted my past, with Alexander by my side for the last six years. Did Erwin consider my mere survival a qualification? My thoughts spiraled, questioning why I had lived through the fall of Wall Maria. Levi's intervention had saved me, but why?
Wouldn't it have been simpler to let me perish? It would have spared everyone the trouble, and given Alexander a chance at happiness. My internal debate echoed with the possibility that perhaps I wasn't meant for Levi's special squad. My presence, a potential burden, could jeopardize him and the entire squad.
Training days blended into a haze of exhaustion, my body pushed beyond its limits. Bruises marked my skin like a roadmap of pain, a testament to Levi's relentless regimen. Mentally checked out from the mess with Alexander, my mind felt clouded, a storm brewing beneath a calm exterior.
The haunting question persisted: Why me? Why did Erwin and Levi see potential in someone who couldn't even pin their captain during sparring? A whisper of doubt insinuated that maybe I was a mere survivor, not a true Scout.
I just keep going in circles.
I questioned Levi's motives, Alexander's warnings, and my abilities. Was I destined for more than just survival?
As I reached the training fields, Levi's gaze met mine. Where was the emotion that lay behind those eyes? Inner turmoil gripped me, a symphony of conflicting emotions. Every move felt like a step closer to revealing my inadequacy.
"You're late." Levi's voice broke through my thoughts. "I said five minutes, not twenty."
"I lost track of time." I stumbled over my words.
"Save it." Levi groaned. "My office after dinner."
"Yes sir," I said to him as we walked towards the group's training.
The sun dipped lower, casting a golden hue over the training grounds. Levi's voice cut through the air, a command that echoed with authority.
"I need high ground." His groan spoke of a tactical mind at work, and without hesitation, he navigated the field, reaching the closest building.
With practiced ease, he utilized his ODM gear to ascend, his silhouette against the darkening sky. From my vantage point below, he seemed like a shadow, a silent observer seeking an advantage. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, scanned the training fields.
"Oi," his voice rang down at me, a summon I couldn't ignore. "What the hell are you waiting for? Get up here."
The dread settled in, knowing that the pain of using my ODM gear awaited, yet duty demanded my ascent.
With gritted teeth, I propelled myself upwards, each motion a reminder of the physical toll training had taken on me. When I reached the rooftop, Levi had already claimed his spot, his eyes fixed on the recruits below. The town sprawled beyond, a canvas painted in the hues of dusk.
"Wherever I go, you go," Levi declared his words a simple directive that held more weight than spoken. His gaze remained focused on the ongoing training, looking for potential new members of his squad.
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The world below unfolded like a patchwork quilt as we soared through the dense woods. The ODM gear granted us an exhilarating freedom, taking us to untouched corners of the training grounds. The rush of wind against my face, the feeling of power coursing through every movement—it was a sensation unlike any other.
"Guys! Stop!" Hange's voice echoed through the trees, halting our swift progress. Alexander, always the assertive one, zoomed past me, hooking into the trees ahead. "Get up here, Hange!" he called out, his words carrying a playful challenge.
"Yeah, Hange, stop being scared and come join us!" I added my teasing encouragement. Hange's reluctance toward the ODM gear was known, a fear born from a face-first landing during their first attempt.
"Our gear is supposed to be used for emergencies only on this exercise, remember?" Hange's voice drifted from below, a reminder of the rules we were supposed to follow. But rules were always meant to be bent, weren't they?
Following Alexander's echoed voice, I found him perched high on a sturdy branch. "Come here," he beckoned, and I ascended to join him.
"What's up?" I asked, settling onto the branch beside him. The scenery spread out below us, a sea of treetops and greenery.
"Enjoy the view with me," he suggested, and I couldn't help but marvel at the beauty surrounding us.
"It's beautiful," I commented, my gaze lost in the vastness of the woods.
"Yeah, but you're prettier," he said with a casual grin, a compliment that never failed to make my cheeks flush. His words, always laced with a charming boldness, echoed back to the first day we met at training camp.
"Wherever I go, you go. Okay?" Alexander's tone shifted his words carrying a weight of seriousness.
"I can't afford to lose you, Iris."
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The memory lingered, a snapshot of unspoken promises amid the rustling leaves. As I returned to the present, perched on a rooftop with Captain Levi, the echoes of those words whispered through the air, a reminder of something that once was.
"Are you done daydreaming?" Levi's baritone voice asked cutting through my thoughts.
"I-" I stumbled over my words but it was pointless.
"Do you see anyone from the squad below worth our time?"
"Oluo and Eld." I quickly said. "They work well together."
"Oluo doesn't take his training seriously. All he's done is talk." Levi observed. "Who's his captain?"
"Alexander."
I saw Levi's gaze in the corner of my eyes. It wasn't too kind but it wasn't angry either.
"Should have known, guessing Eld was on your old squad as well?"
"Yes sir. Oluo has fifteen solo kills and Eld has ten. Together they've had ten assists. They work really well together." I explained to him. "We have a lot of trust in each other."
"Trust?"
"Yeah, without trust, you're as good as dead," I muttered, avoiding Levi's eyes as my gaze lingered on the vast landscape below. His eyes, usually intense, now held a curiosity that felt like it delved into my very thoughts.
"What are you guys doing up there?" Alexander's voice snapped the fragile thread connecting us, and I turned my attention to the man with ash-brown hair, scowling up at us.
Levi and I exchanged a swift glance, a momentary understanding that vanished in the face of Alexander's intrusion.
I haven't seen Alexander in the last couple of days. The mess hall had been a lonely place without him, and the tension that lingered between us found no resolution in his avoidance.
"Recruiting," I responded, breaking the silence with words that carried more weight than he could fathom. The distance between us felt like an unspoken chasm, fueled by his baseless accusations.
"Well, recruit somewhere else. My squad's off-limits."
Alexander's words, delivered with a glare aimed directly at me, cut through the air like a knife. Levi, embodying an unexpected calm, stood up and gracefully descended from the roof, landing in front of Alexander.
"Problem, soldier?"
As they faced each other, I stood on the roof, caught between past accusations and an uncertain future.
"Yeah, there is. You're interrupting a training session with my squad," he snapped, his stern gaze fixed on Levi.
The towering figure of Alexander made Levi appear even smaller. Anyone could sense the tension and understanding that Alexander wasn't about to extend a warm welcome.
"Your soldiers lack discipline if being observed is a distraction."
Levi had a calm and confident demeanor that I know made Alexander mad. His words lingered in the air like the tension between them, prompting me to leap off the roof and join Levi on the ground. I could feel the squad converging, drama was the scouts favorite activity after all.
"Then that's more of a reason to move along and recruit elsewhere. My squad's off-limits."
"Nothing is off-limits for me. I have free rein to choose any member of the regiment, whether they want to join or not. Including you." Levi's assertive voice could be heard all around us.
"And who gave you such power?" Alexander questioned, his disbelief apparent.
"Commander Erwin. I'd love to chit-chat about meaningless shit all day, but I have a job to do."
With those words, Levi turned and walked away, leaving a stunned squad and a seething Alexander in his wake.
"Get back to training," Alexander bellowed at his squad, eyes lingering.
As Levi walked away, leaving Alexander fuming with frustration, the tension in the air lingered longer than it should have. I felt the weight of Alexander's disapproval as he turned his piercing gaze toward me.
He grabbed my wrist, leading me away from the unfolding drama. As we entered the nearby building, my thoughts raced, trying to make sense of the power dynamics shifting within the regiment.
What have I gotten myself into? The clash between these two is like a storm, and I'm standing in the middle of it.
Alexander's grip on my wrist tightened as he led me away from the gathering crowd. The building's interior enveloped us, shielding our conversation from prying eyes.
"Explain yourself, Iris," Alexander demanded, his voice low and harsh.
I struggled to find the right words, torn between defending Levi's actions and pacifying Alexander's evident anger. This is a delicate dance, and one wrong step could lead to more trouble.
"He's just doing his job, Alexander. Recruiting for the Special Ops," I offered cautiously.
Alexander's scowl deepened.
"And you think that gives him the right to disrupt my training session? To challenge the authority of my squad?"
I bit my lip, contemplating my response. How do I make him understand without making things worse?
"He's persistent, but it doesn't mean he disrespects you or your squad. He sees potential, that's all," I tried to reason, trying to choose my words wisely.
Alexander's eyes bore into mine, searching for sincerity. "Potential or not, this isn't the way to go about it. We have rules, and he can't just waltz in and disregard them."
"Just trust Erwin. He knows what he's doing." I said trying to calm his nerves.
The room hung heavy with tension, a suffocating silence enveloping us. I turned to face Alexander, uncertainty clawing at my insides. His gaze, cold and unforgiving, pierced through me like a blade. The air was filled with unspoken words, and I felt my stomach plummet into an abyss of dread.
Before I could comprehend the storm about to erupt, my body stumbled backward, colliding with the sturdy desk behind me. Panic surged as I braced myself, my trembling hands reaching out to steady the chaos within me. The echo of the impending storm reverberated through the room, drowning out any semblance of peace.
A sharp contact against the right side of my face sent shockwaves through my senses. I winced, instinctively cradling the stinging pain. The heavy breathing in the room intertwined with the shiver that ran down my spine. The sting of tears welled up, soothing the physical ache but doing nothing to quell the storm raging within.
"Who do you think you are?"
Alexander's voice cut through the silence, each word a lash against my already battered composure. He advanced, a looming presence that seized control of the room. His hand found a fistful of my hair, yanking me mercilessly closer to him. I bit back a cry, my eyes locked with his, a silent plea for mercy.
"Do you think I'm fucking dumb?"
His words lashed out like a whip, each syllable seething with anger. His grip on the back of my head tightened, and I felt the world tilt under the force of his rage.
"Answer me."
His demand hung in the air, a command that brooked no disobedience. I swallowed hard, my voice a fragile whisper in the charged atmosphere.
"No."
The tears streamed down, tracing a path of despair on my cheeks. His eyes bore into the raw vulnerability laid bare before him. My body was locked in the vice of his anger, and I braced myself for the tumultuous storm. His words sliced through the room, anger boiling beneath the surface.
"Tell that captain of yours to stay the fuck away from our squad."
Another demand hung in the air, a venomous command that echoed in the silence. I nodded, a silent acknowledgment, but it was never enough. His fist collided with my face, a burst of pain and frustration.
"When I ask you something, you answer. Got it?" His voice was a relentless storm, demanding compliance.
"Yes," I whispered, the word hanging in the charged atmosphere.
"Do you understand what's going to happen if you don't listen to me?" His question sent shivers down my spine, and my voice trembled as I replied,
"Yes."
The weight of his expectations bore down on me, and I felt the vulnerability in my compliance.
"Good. Now come here," he said, lifting me off the floor and holding me close. His touch was a paradox of comfort and pain, his hand gentle in my hair as he cradled me. I felt his lips press against the very spot his fist had struck moments ago.
"Please listen, Iris. I do this because I love you." His words were a desperate plea, a conflicted confession that hung in the air. He squeezed me one last time before releasing his hold, his departure leaving an emptiness in the room. He didn't look back, and the silence that followed echoed with the weight of unspoken struggles. I was left standing, all alone in the dark training room while the day still passed on.
It wasn't the first time he hit me.
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Authors Note:
Abuse is never to be romanticized. This is to spread awareness and help others cope in different outlets. You are not alone.
For more help:
National Domestic Violence Hotline: 800-799-7233
Text START to 88788
You are not alone.
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rin-henricov · 3 months ago
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What do you think storks home life was like as a kid, did he even go to school?
Sorry for waiting so long!
According to my old headcanon, Stork was born and lived in a time when most merbs preferred to build their homes deep underground in order to protect themselves from the atmosian monsters that previously inhabited Terra-Merbia.
In a remote provincial village, it was not possible to provide a good education to those in need due to difficult times. The vast majority of merbian schools had a three-year term of study, were small, and could have one teacher for three classes. It is not surprising that in those days, the qualifications of teachers were below average, and young ones preferred to work in the mines for reasonable wages instead of wasting their time at school desks. The possibility that our pilot might have gone to school is dismissed immediately, not so much on a whim as by his parents' decision.
Stork's father was an ardent chauvinist, a staunch conservative, and a clinical misanthrope. In addition, he was prone to a severe form of kleptomania and, in the past, committed small thefts relative to neighboring villages. Despite the fact that he married a weak-willed merbian woman, guided solely by selfish motives, his father was extremely selective in choosing a spouse who was ready to fulfill any whims of her husband, and therefore actively took advantage of the fact that she would not be able to argue for a divorce, would not try to divide jointly acquired property and defend her rights. At one point, he had forced Stork's mom to marry him, telling her that no one would want a plain-looking girl like her, and that she wouldn't last very long without a penny, and he knew how to make easy money. He may also have forced her to conceive a child as an additional labor force (in other words, his father viewed the merbian women solely as a living incubator).
Stork's mother was a deeply unhappy woman, holding on by one-sided inertia to an unwanted marriage. She had no voice in the family, as husband had estranged son from her as soon as the latter learned to speak, thereby taking the initiative to raise him. Stork grew up as a cold and distant merb, not feeling much affection for mother, because he did not feel her deep maternal love in answer. She was also involved in some of her husband's criminal schemes, and all of the small scams took place with her tacit consent.
Stork's relationship with his family members was characterized by heightened tensions. The father did not provide any care, perceiving it rather as a tool that requires correction for certain needs. As I noted earlier, he did not pay due attention to his education, instead assessing in advance his son's ability to fully provide for the whole family, and therefore chose an authoritarian approach to his upbringing. But as the boy grew up, there were many conflicts between the future pilot and his father on any minor issues. Already at a young age, Stork showed perseverance in setting personal boundaries and confidently defended his positions, which often became the reason for their disagreements, sometimes reaching such a level that he was ready to seriously fight with his father for the last canned fish left from a week's supply.
The environment in which Stork lived had severely reduced his social skills, so from the very beginning he built a wall around himself to protect himself from all the preconceived judgments and ridicule of others. Everyone around him knew him as that unsociable boy who most found solace in the company of old books and rarely tried to fit in with any company. Peers did not take him seriously, and even the few children who had the most dysfunctional families tried to stay away from him. The only merbs with whom he could exchange a few words were the neighboring hunters, who periodically came to borrow some provisions for the road.
Due to the shortage of consumer goods, his father found it advisable to teach Stork how to repair household appliances and some basic engineering. Despite good intentions, he approached this issue strategically, which, again, could be caused by the primary motivation to have someone who can do everything for him, thereby significantly saving on costs. However, the young merb's desire to expand his skills has not weakened. He took the initiative to study technical sciences, going beyond his father's initial plans, but given the current period of time, finding the right materials proved to be a difficult task, and he had to borrow books either from dilapidated libraries or from the bureau of unnecessary things. Sometimes the young merb obtained books in other ways: for example, such as bartering, theft, or trading with other villagers. To compensate for the lack of studies, in his spare time Stork preferred to spend hours in complete solitude (for example, in a cramped pantry), studying a volume of an engineering encyclopedia, or reading a reference book under a blanket by the beam of a flashlight while everyone was asleep.
Because his father was repeatedly denied employment cause existence of criminal record, at some point he decided to use his name to register in the illegal hunting business, but he always sent his son to fulfill the contracts under strict orders not to return until the customers' whim was fulfilled. He himself motivated his decision by the fact that this would not only allow him to move from mother's shoulder, but also prepare him for the harsh hardships of life. (Despite the fact that his parents repeatedly fell under the law, most of the court cases had such ambiguous circumstances, as a result of which they were suspended and archived due to some investigative mistakes).
Stork was a "general-purpose" hunter and was determined to eliminate any beast inhabiting the surface. He hunted down, lured, and killed monsters in any hard-to-reach places; in the wilds of the swamp mire, huge mountain peaks, and deep ravines, he was always on the lookout. To catch and finish off his prey, he needed a deep understanding of wildlife, including its inhabitants: how they behave, how they differ from each other, and how best to deal with them. He always tried to think carefully about his plan so as not to give them a single chance, but sometimes it came at too high a price. Mastery of the appropriate weapons and use of tactical techniques also played into his challenging craft. One of the most effective weapons was his late grandfather's family crossbow, providing a reliable combination of power and accuracy while remaining relatively compact and easy to carry. For close combat, he most often used a machete with a predominantly single-sided sharpening.
No matter what kind of chthonic bestiary he had to exterminate this time: Stork, with the composure of a field surgeon, carried out even the most laborious order for a meager penny, knowing that in his case any little thing would be required. The risk of being eaten up by a bog howler and a long stay in isolation negatively affected his condition, however, despite this, the young merb was fed by hunting monsters from the first years of independent life. In addition to this he regularly donated secondary waste from previous traps, which served as an additional source of family income. Due to extensive knowledge in the field of monstrumology, he also independently designed some structures for traps, which helped to significantly develop his inventive skills. Despite deep aversion to his work, she aroused in him a sincere interest in creating various traps with which he would equip Condor compartments in the future and not only.
Feel free to ask questions if there's anything else in this post that interests you. I will be happy to answer them to the best of my ability and free time! ^_^
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my-breakup-playlist · 8 months ago
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Every so often I see those posts to the tune of "if you could go back and tell your past self one thing--"
And I know mine. But also I don't. It's messy and complicated.
Back in high school, I was heavily debating breaking up with my ex. I made pro/con tables. I prayed about it. I consulted my bishop.
That one was probably a mistake-- see, my ex was about to go on his Mission, and a breakup right before would shake his faith, the bishop argued. So he pressed me to stay.
So I did. And when my ex came back, I married him.
I'm pretty sure my time-traveling future self bearing a grave warning would have outweighed religious authority (though not as much as you might think), and I could have avoided this.
But here's the thing:
I grew up in pretty much a walled garden/ivory tower situation. A community all but engineered to keep The Good Ones (rich white conservative Evangelicals) safely cloistered inside, and keep everyone else out.
I only left that place because I moved out of my parents' home and into his hastily-procured studio apartment in the second-shittiest complex available on short notice. Leaving that walled garden and seeing actual people leading actual lives fundamentally changed me as a person-- as did the significantly more liberal group of student-teachers he met a few months later that became our friend group, etc, etc.
Without that big move, I probably would have stayed in that sheltered place. I probably would have stayed religious. I would have been pointedly shielded from the kinds of experiences that would have made me realize I was queer, or anything that might 'radicalize' me to be at all more liberal.
I know for a fact that I would have been shunted into the Singles Ward at church, to be paired off with whoever else would deign to have me.
And I probably would have stayed right there: conservative and religious, probably pressured into having children that I didn't want and couldn't handle.
I know that now because I knew it then. That was the future that was laid out for me.
That pro/con list wasn't about my ex's smile or whatever-- right there on the con list was that I didn't think I loved him. But I knew he was the alternative to that specific future. College was not actually an option-- not when supporting my parents and siblings by waitressing while living in their house was more reliable, and not when my contribution to the household finances was so obviously needed. I was absolutely aware that the only thing that would make me Off Limits to my family as a resource (both to them and to myself, because obligation runs deep) was belonging to My Husband's Household instead.
My ex checked the boxes of being in favor of my education, good with money, and unlikely to physically hurt me-- and, of course, being willing to marry me. I didn't have a guarantee that any future opportunities would meet those qualifications, let alone do better.
It wasn't a mistake born of passion and naivete. It was a calculated, carefully thought-out decision.
And based on the options I had available to me at the time, I think it was the best option I had.
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Still Breathing Part One: Into The Tiger's Den
Chapter 1: Sacrifices
How could things go so bad so quickly?
Twenty-four hours ago everything was business as usual. Twenty-four hours ago, everyone was alive. Now? Now, Tim and Jason are the only ones left. The last of their family hiding out in a derelict building from a Joker who’s somehow become a nearly omnipotent monster. Everyone’s dead. All of them. A thought that’s bringing Tim closer and closer to a complete breakdown with every second that passes. He’s trying to fight it, he doesn’t want to do that to Jason, who’s already at his wits’ end, but…
Dammit, this can’t be happening. Why is this happening?
Tim runs a hand through his hair as he sits down on a crate and just breathes. Forcing down the hysterical sobs that want to rip apart his composure. God, he was just sitting on the couch in the manor with all of them two days ago. He can’t remember what the last thing he said to any of them was. Can’t remember if he gave them a hug before he left. When was the last time he’d told them he loved them? Fuck.
He curls in on himself pulling the jacket Jason had given him that morning closer around his shoulders. How can this be happening? How can they all be… How can he be losing another family like this? It’s all so fucking wrong. This is--
A rustle of fabric and the rattle of a gun makes Tim look up quick and he can only stare in surprise at the sight before him. Jason has one of his guns pointed directly at Klarion’s head. All things considered, Klarion doesn’t seem particularly perturbed by this situation. He just places a finger on the muzzle of the gun and turns it away from his face. “Honestly, I would appreciate you not attempting to shoot at me. After all, I didn’t come here to injure you with your own damned weaponry.”
“Then what the hell are you doing here?” Jason snaps, irritable and tired. So tired. Still he does lower the gun without arguing.
Klarion smirks as Teekl jumps down from his shoulders and slinks over to Tim. “I didn’t come here for you at all. Teekl has something of a fondness for Tim, so we decided to come to the rescue. Think of me as your chaotic savior, here to do all I can to rid us of our mutual problem.”
“Great. Then why don’t you just zap the motherfucker into space and let him die, already?” Jason grumbles, holstering is gun and leaning, sullenly, against the nearest wall.
That only gets him a deeply unimpressed look from Klarion, who responds, “If I could have done that I would have already. You severely overestimate the capabilities of magic and underestimate the power of our foe. Not surprising honestly, he has been taking his sweet time. If anyone else had found that damned thing we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“What do you mean?” Tim finally finds his voice, hollow and strained as it sounds to his own ear. “Do you know what happened to to Joker?”
With a sharp laugh, Klarion nods. “Oh yes. You would too, but for the nature of the beast.”
“Just cut the cagey shit and fill us in already,” Jason growls, obviously growing short on patience. Tim can’t really blame him. Klarion can be a pain in the ass to deal with on the best of days.
Klarion raises an eyebrow slightly, but deigns to explain nonetheless. “It doesn’t have a name, but it is an immensely powerful and ancient, magic weapon. Supposedly it was created to destroy what it deems to be redundant universes by granting godlike powers to those who meet certain qualifications.”
“And Joker meets those qualifications?” Tim asks.
“Probably.” Klarion shrugs. “I never bothered to learn them for myself. A dead universe wouldn’t be much fun to play in after all. Regardless, thanks to its power, I can’t even begin to use my magic against Joker. That’s why I’m here. To offer my assistance to you.”
“Sounds like there’s not much you can do, blue boy.” Jason pauses, turns to look at Tim with a look on his face that Tim’s not real sure about. “Unless I’m missing something?”
Tim grimaces, allowing himself to absently scratch Teekl behind the ears, which feels a little weird knowing they’re not a real cat, but it’s comforting nonetheless. “There might be one way, but… it’s not exactly a good one.”
“Good isn’t what I do anyhow, so do tell.” The grin that spreads across Klarion’s face is more than a little unnerving.
“We need…” Tim hesitates, glancing at Jason. “We need to go back in time… and kill the Joker.”
“Delightful!” Klarion croons and Teekl lets out a purr that makes Tim’s stomach turn.
Jason is already shaking his head though. “Baby bird, you know I’m always down for killing Joker, but… messing with fucking time travel? That shit never goes the way you want it to.”
“I know.” Tim agrees. He’s well aware of the risks, having met two future versions of himself who were both murderous assholes despite his vows to change that future. “But as it stands I can’t think of any other way to stop this. If Klarion’s right--”
“I am.”
“-- then what are we supposed to do on our own, Jay? Even Clark couldn’t stand up to that monster! He’s just going to keep hunting us down like it’s some sick game until he gets bored and finishes us off. It’s hopeless right now, but… two months ago? When we know where Joker would be? Where we know what to do? We can stop all of this from ever happening.”
“And then what?” Jason gestures, angrily, with on hand. “Bam! Kill the Joker. Then what, kid?”
Tim stares back at Jason, levelly, because they both know what would need to happen after that, but neither of them really want to voice it.
“Besides—” Jason avoids Tim’s gaze. “—Isn’t the universe fucked anyway? Even if we kill Joker, some other fucker will just grab the artifact and that’s it for the universe. If we’re so determined to go back and bust something, why not the damn thing itself? I mean if it’s not even supposed to exist in the world it shouldn’t cause a problem, right? So why don’t we do that?”
That’s Jason for you always asking the exact right questions, but any hope Tim had that Jason could be right disappears when Klarion giggles. “Are you serious? Honestly, don’t make me laugh. It has the power to grant someone all the abilities of a god and you think you can destroy it? You’d never even find it. You already forgot it existed, even though you knew all about it two weeks ago. It doesn’t want you to stop it, as much as an object ‘wants’ anything. It’s a machine that will keep repeating this process until the universe is either destroyed or changed enough to sate it.”
That’s what Tim was afraid of. Klarion had said that the nature of the beast was that people who should know about it, didn’t. Something powerful enough to rewrite the memories of an entire universe wasn’t something easy to destroy or defeat.
“Jesus.” Jason hisses, low and with feeling. “Just how powerful is this thing?”
“Apparently its creation devoured an entire universe of magic users�� but that might just be a legend.” Klarion hums as he studies his fingernails. “Sufficed to say, destroying the artifact is not an option. Killing Joker, though, that has distinct possibilities. If nothing else it might make this universe unique and not worth erasing.”
“How the fuck do you even know any of this?” Jason obviously isn’t liking being outnumbered here.
Klarion rolls his eyes. “I do read books after all. Now that that’s solved! Shall we put this plan in motion? Your universe destroyer might be taking his time playing his cat and mouse game, but I don’t fancy a battle with someone who makes my magic look like parlor tricks.”
A shudder runs through Tim’s body as he breathes in. “July twenty-fifth is the last time we knew where Joker was before all this. He was in--”
“You don’t need to tell me all that.” Klarion waves off Tim’s explanation as he walks by on his way to the other side of the room. Teekl leaps up, joining their witch. “Only whichever of you is going needs to know where. I just need to know when.”
Jason scowls. “You can only send one of us?”
“You’re lucky I can do that much.” Klarion kicks a few things out of the way and begins setting up his circle. “That choice is for the two of you to make, but it’s not as if it really matters. Once your mission is complete this instance will cease to be. Probably. Time isn’t really my forte. Chaos is.”
“We know,” Tim mutters, then turns to Jason. “Jay, you should go.”
“Why?” Jason gives him the most incredulous glare Tim has ever gotten in his life.
“Haven’t you always wanted to kill Joker? Here’s your chance. Besides you’re just the better person for the job.” Tim lies. Mostly lies. It’s true Jason, who’s killed before, is more prepared to deal with this job, but that’s not why Tim wants him to go. He’s being selfish. He’s… “It’s just better if it’s you.”
Jason narrows his eyes, like he’s seen straight through Tim’s bullshit and opens his mouth to probably say so, when there’s a loud crash from somewhere else in the building. An eerie giggle echoes through the hallway beyond the room they’re hiding in.
Klarion, now hunched over the circle with his eyes closed, lifts his head slightly and opens one eye. “No more time for chatter, birdies. Let’s go.”
Tim stands up, ignoring the incredibly disturbing sight of Teekl transforming into their more humanoid form. He fishes in the pocket of the jacket for his collapsed bo staff as he starts for the door. “Go, Jay, I’ll hold him off until--”
Jason grabs Tim before he can walk passed him and pulls him into a tight hug. For a moment Tim is half crushed against his brother’s chest and everything is still. Then Jason whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m sorry, Li’l Red.”
In that second, Tim feels his heart sink into his stomach, but he can’t even speak before the wall of the room comes crashing down, debris falling like a curtain to the floor revealing the figure of Joker grinning at them more wild-eyed than ever before. Jason shoves Tim away and immediately Tim feels something with fur and claws grab him by the arms from behind. Heedless of Teekl’s warning growl, Tim struggles against their grip. “Wait! Jason! Please! Please don’t!”
He doesn’t listen. He never listens. Please this can’t be happening!
Jason pulls his guns out and shots ring out. Bullets stop, seconds before hitting Joker’s head, falling harmlessly to the floor. Jason keeps shooting.
Joker laughs with hysterical glee as a crowbar appears in his hand. “Oh! I nearly forgot that I’d get to kill you all over again! This is going to be such a joy for me, you don't even know!”
“Jason!” Tim screeches as Teekl drags him backwards, their claws digging in deeper and deeper as he struggles to get free.
Vaguely he hears Klarion say something that might be, “Oh that does sound much more interesting!”
But he’s not paying attention, because at that moment Jason runs out of bullets and Joker’s grin widens impossibly. “All done now? Is it my turn already?”
“Fuck you!” Defiant to the end, Jason chucks both guns at Joker’s head. It only buys him a second more. Joker shrugs them off and lunges forward. He grabs Jason’s face and drives him down into the tiled floor. The crowbar falls towards Jason’s skull and Tim wails for his brother. He can’t save him. He can’t save anyone. Angry at the world, at Jason, at himself, Tim screams his throat raw as time slows down.
Abruptly Teekl’s gone. Nothing’s holding Tim in place any longer, but the world around him is rushing by in a blur of color and movement like a video rewinding. Then everything stops so suddenly that Tim’s caught off balance and falls against a crate. Bewildered, he looks around and realization sets in alongside a building dread. He’s nowhere near Gotham. There’s a steady beeping sound coming from a small device in the middle of a dirt floor. A woman sobbing as she fights with a padlock on a pair of iron doors. And a badly beaten teen in the old Robin suit laying on the floor by her feet.
Klarion severely overshot.
Tim breathes. He needs to get out of here right now. Break a window above him and crawl out. Just go. He can still accomplish his goal in this time period, he shouldn’t screw up the timeline any more than he absolutely has to. He can’t know what that will cause.
But… Jason’s right there. He couldn’t save his brother in the future. Couldn’t stop him from dying. Again. But here…
Shaking himself into action, Tim stands upright. He doesn’t have time for this. This building is going to go up in less than two minutes. He needs to act now. Without giving it anymore thought, Tim steps out from behind the stack of crates and heads for the doors.
Sheila jumps at his sudden appearance, looking at him with fear and hope in her eyes, pleading, “Please, help us. Please…”
Tim spares her a brief glance, but doesn’t speak. He ignores the bomb, he knows he can’t disarm it in time, it’s a Joker special. Too convoluted to solve. Instead he takes a lock pick set from his boot – Always, always be prepared – and goes to work on the padlock. It takes longer than he’d like and by the time he finishes the annoying beeping that’s counting down to their doom is getting louder. They don’t have much more time. He looks up at Sheila as he pulls the chain away from the doors. “Get them open, I’ve got Jason.”
Sheila nods, unquestioning, not even seeming to register that this complete stranger knows Robin’s identity. Well so much the better for him. As she pushes the doors open as wide as possible, Tim lifts Jason gently by his less damaged arm, hooking an arm around his back. Jason groans, weakly. “B?”
“No,” Tim answers, softly. “But I’ve got you, Jay. It’ll be okay.”
Sheila returns and supports Jason’s other side. Between the two of them, they manage to put some distance between them and the building. Tim pushes them down behind a rock seconds before the blast sends red hot shrapnel flying past their hiding spot. Holding Sheila’s head down, Tim silently laments that the rock is really too small of a shield, but it does it’s job well enough.
Slowly, the commotion dies down and Sheila, shaking like a leaf, her arms wrapped tight around Jason, looks up at Tim. “I-is it over? Are we really still alive?”
“Yeah.” For better or worse. Tim shakes off the wave of anxieties rising in his chest as he stands up. “Yeah, we’re alive.”
She turns her attention to Jason. “…He tried to save me. Even after…”
“… That’s what Robin does.” Tim coughs to try and hide the sadness in his voice.
There’s a silence between them as Sheila starts patching up Jason’s injuries. Then she glances at Tim again, stops, and stares at him. “Who-Who are you?”
“I’m…” He trails off, uncertain, and just then he hears the sound of a jeep growing closer. He sighs. “Nobody important. Stay here.”
She nods, hesitantly, and Tim steps away from the rock heading back towards the smoldering remains pile of rubble that was once a warehouse. He watches as the jeep slides to a halt and Batman jumps out and runs to the wreckage. Everything about this is a goddamn mess.
“Batman!” Tim yells as he gets close enough to be heard.
Bruce doesn’t seem to hear him.
“Over here! Hey!” Tim tries again, but that doesn’t work either. Dammit. “Bruce!”
That does it. Probably because no one in the area but Jason should know to call him that when he’s in the Batsuit. Bruce whips around and looks straight down at Tim panic turning to suspicion. Looks like he’s about to demand Tim’s identity immediately, Tim ignores it and jerks his head towards Jason and Sheila. The tension bleeds out of Bruce just a bit as he spots the pair. In the end he doesn’t speak to Tim, just rushes past him to where Sheila and Jason are.
Sheila looks up at Bruce as he approaches, saying, with some trepidation, “He needs some serious treatment, but… I-I think he’ll be okay. I hope he will. We can take back to the camp and I’ll treat him there.”
Without really responding, Bruce gathers Jason into his arms with intense care. Tim watches in silence as Sheila runs ahead to the jeep with Robin’s cape spreading it out in the back and climbing in, waiting for Bruce to lay Jason there. His job here is done. It’s time to leave. Jason will be okay. It will all--
“Come on.” Bruce’s voice rumbles beside him.
“I—” Tim starts to shy away, but Bruce, dexterous as ever, manages to grab him by the elbow while still holding Jason firmly.
“You need treatment too.” Bruce indicates Tim’s left arm with a tilt of his head.
Tim looks down and frowns at the blood soaking into his sleeve. Teekl had really dug their claws in it seems. “…Okay.”
Meekly, he follows Bruce back to the jeep, jumping into the passenger seat while Sheila and Bruce situate Jason in the back. Some part of Tim is screaming that he should run. Now. While they’re distracted. Leave. Don’t give Bruce anymore chances to figure him out.
He doesn’t.
He’s tired, drained beyond even his normal capacity, and, Bruce is right, he needs his injuries treated. So he just closes his eyes and leans back as the car starts and they speed away to save the boy who should have died.
.
Next Chapter
First Chapter (You Are Here)
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argothiathedreamer · 2 years ago
Text
Rating: Teen and Up Summary: Tim goes back in time to avert the end of the universe, but things quickly go awry and he's left with an important decision to make: Carry through with the plan as he originally intended; Or make a risky play to change things for the better. Argothia's Notes: Promised myself I'd start posting the Still Breathing Rewrite on my birthday whether I had a massive buffer or a teensy one, as it turns out I've got a decent one. Enjoy!
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How could things go so bad so quickly?
Twenty-four hours ago everything was business as usual. Twenty-four hours ago, everyone was alive. Now? Now, Tim and Jason are the only ones left. The last of their family hiding out in a derelict building from a Joker who’s somehow become a nearly omnipotent monster. Everyone’s dead. All of them. A thought that’s bringing Tim closer and closer to a complete breakdown with every second that passes. He’s trying to fight it, he doesn’t want to do that to Jason, who’s already at his wits’ end, but…
Dammit, this can’t be happening. Why is this happening?
Tim runs a hand through his hair as he sits down on a crate and just breathes. Forcing down the hysterical sobs that want to rip apart his composure. God, he was just sitting on the couch in the manor with all of them two days ago. He can’t remember what the last thing he said to any of them was. Can’t remember if he gave them a hug before he left. When was the last time he’d told them he loved them? Fuck.
He curls in on himself pulling the jacket Jason had given him that morning closer around his shoulders. How can this be happening? How can they all be… How can he be losing another family like this? It’s all so fucking wrong. This is--
A rustle of fabric and the rattle of a gun makes Tim look up quick and he can only stare in surprise at the sight before him. Jason has one of his guns pointed directly at Klarion’s head. All things considered, Klarion doesn’t seem particularly perturbed by this situation. He just places a finger on the muzzle of the gun and turns it away from his face. “Honestly, I would appreciate you not attempting to shoot at me. After all, I didn’t come here to injure you with your own damned weaponry.”
“Then what the hell are you doing here?” Jason snaps, irritable and tired. So tired. Still he does lower the gun without arguing.
Klarion smirks as Teekl jumps down from his shoulders and slinks over to Tim. “I didn’t come here for you at all. Teekl has something of a fondness for Tim, so we decided to come to the rescue. Think of me as your chaotic savior, here to do all I can to rid us of our mutual problem.”
“Great. Then why don’t you just zap the motherfucker into space and let him die, already?” Jason grumbles, holstering is gun and leaning, sullenly, against the nearest wall.
That only gets him a deeply unimpressed look from Klarion, who responds, “If I could have done that I would have already. You severely overestimate the capabilities of magic and underestimate the power of our foe. Not surprising honestly, he has been taking his sweet time. If anyone else had found that damned thing we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“What do you mean?” Tim finally finds his voice, hollow and strained as it sounds to his own ear. “Do you know what happened to to Joker?”
With a sharp laugh, Klarion nods. “Oh yes. You would too, but for the nature of the beast.”
“Just cut the cagey shit and fill us in already,” Jason growls, obviously growing short on patience. Tim can’t really blame him. Klarion can be a pain in the ass to deal with on the best of days.
Klarion raises an eyebrow slightly, but deigns to explain nonetheless. “It doesn’t have a name, but it is an immensely powerful and ancient, magic weapon. Supposedly it was created to destroy what it deems to be redundant universes by granting godlike powers to those who meet certain qualifications.”
“And Joker meets those qualifications?” Tim asks.
“Probably.” Klarion shrugs. “I never bothered to learn them for myself. A dead universe wouldn’t be much fun to play in after all. Regardless, thanks to its power, I can’t even begin to use my magic against Joker. That’s why I’m here. To offer my assistance to you.”
“Sounds like there’s not much you can do, blue boy.” Jason pauses, turns to look at Tim with a look on his face that Tim’s not real sure about. “Unless I’m missing something?”
Tim grimaces, allowing himself to absently scratch Teekl behind the ears, which feels a little weird knowing they’re not a real cat, but it’s comforting nonetheless. “There might be one way, but… it’s not exactly a good one.”
“Good isn’t what I do anyhow, so do tell.” The grin that spreads across Klarion’s face is more than a little unnerving.
“We need…” Tim hesitates, glancing at Jason. “We need to go back in time… and kill the Joker.”
“Delightful!” Klarion croons and Teekl lets out a purr that makes Tim’s stomach turn.
Jason is already shaking his head though. “Baby bird, you know I’m always down for killing Joker, but… messing with fucking time travel? That shit never goes the way you want it to.”
“I know.” Tim agrees. He’s well aware of the risks, having met two future versions of himself who were both murderous assholes despite his vows to change that future. “But as it stands I can’t think of any other way to stop this. If Klarion’s right--”
“I am.”
“-- then what are we supposed to do on our own, Jay? Even Clark couldn’t stand up to that monster! He’s just going to keep hunting us down like it’s some sick game until he gets bored and finishes us off. It’s hopeless right now, but… two months ago? When we know where Joker would be? Where we know what to do? We can stop all of this from ever happening.”
“And then what?” Jason gestures, angrily, with on hand. “Bam! Kill the Joker. Then what, kid?”
Tim stares back at Jason, levelly, because they both know what would need to happen after that, but neither of them really want to voice it.
“Besides—” Jason avoids Tim’s gaze. “—Isn’t the universe fucked anyway? Even if we kill Joker, some other fucker will just grab the artifact and that’s it for the universe. If we’re so determined to go back and bust something, why not the damn thing itself? I mean if it’s not even supposed to exist in the world it shouldn’t cause a problem, right? So why don’t we do that?”
That’s Jason for you always asking the exact right questions, but any hope Tim had that Jason could be right disappears when Klarion giggles. “Are you serious? Honestly, don’t make me laugh. It has the power to grant someone all the abilities of a god and you think you can destroy it? You’d never even find it. You already forgot it existed, even though you knew all about it two weeks ago. It doesn’t want you to stop it, as much as an object ‘wants’ anything. It’s a machine that will keep repeating this process until the universe is either destroyed or changed enough to sate it.”
That’s what Tim was afraid of. Klarion had said that the nature of the beast was that people who should know about it, didn’t. Something powerful enough to rewrite the memories of an entire universe wasn’t something easy to destroy or defeat.
“Jesus.” Jason hisses, low and with feeling. “Just how powerful is this thing?”
“Apparently its creation devoured an entire universe of magic users… but that might just be a legend.” Klarion hums as he studies his fingernails. “Sufficed to say, destroying the artifact is not an option. Killing Joker, though, that has distinct possibilities. If nothing else it might make this universe unique and not worth erasing.”
“How the fuck do you even know any of this?” Jason obviously isn’t liking being outnumbered here.
Klarion rolls his eyes. “I do read books after all. Now that that’s solved! Shall we put this plan in motion? Your universe destroyer might be taking his time playing his cat and mouse game, but I don’t fancy a battle with someone who makes my magic look like parlor tricks.”
A shudder runs through Tim’s body as he breathes in. “July twenty-fifth is the last time we knew where Joker was before all this. He was in--”
“You don’t need to tell me all that.” Klarion waves off Tim’s explanation as he walks by on his way to the other side of the room. Teekl leaps up, joining their witch. “Only whichever of you is going needs to know where. I just need to know when.”
Jason scowls. “You can only send one of us?”
“You’re lucky I can do that much.” Klarion kicks a few things out of the way and begins setting up his circle. “That choice is for the two of you to make, but it’s not as if it really matters. Once your mission is complete this instance will cease to be. Probably. Time isn’t really my forte. Chaos is.”
“We know,” Tim mutters, then turns to Jason. “Jay, you should go.”
“Why?” Jason gives him the most incredulous glare Tim has ever gotten in his life.
“Haven’t you always wanted to kill Joker? Here’s your chance. Besides you’re just the better person for the job.” Tim lies. Mostly lies. It’s true Jason, who’s killed before, is more prepared to deal with this job, but that’s not why Tim wants him to go. He’s being selfish. He’s… “It’s just better if it’s you.”
Jason narrows his eyes, like he’s seen straight through Tim’s bullshit and opens his mouth to probably say so, when there’s a loud crash from somewhere else in the building. An eerie giggle echoes through the hallway beyond the room they’re hiding in.
Klarion, now hunched over the circle with his eyes closed, lifts his head slightly and opens one eye. “No more time for chatter, birdies. Let’s go.”
Tim stands up, ignoring the incredibly disturbing sight of Teekl transforming into their more humanoid form. He fishes in the pocket of the jacket for his collapsed bo staff as he starts for the door. “Go, Jay, I’ll hold him off until--”
Jason grabs Tim before he can walk passed him and pulls him into a tight hug. For a moment Tim is half crushed against his brother’s chest and everything is still. Then Jason whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m sorry, Li’l Red.”
In that second, Tim feels his heart sink into his stomach, but he can’t even speak before the wall of the room comes crashing down, debris falling like a curtain to the floor revealing the figure of Joker grinning at them more wild-eyed than ever before. Jason shoves Tim away and immediately Tim feels something with fur and claws grab him by the arms from behind. Heedless of Teekl’s warning growl, Tim struggles against their grip. “Wait! Jason! Please! Please don’t!”
He doesn’t listen. He never listens. Please this can’t be happening!
Jason pulls his guns out and shots ring out. Bullets stop, seconds before hitting Joker’s head, falling harmlessly to the floor. Jason keeps shooting.
Joker laughs with hysterical glee as a crowbar appears in his hand. “Oh! I nearly forgot that I’d get to kill you all over again! This is going to be such a joy for me, you don't even know!”
“Jason!” Tim screeches as Teekl drags him backwards, their claws digging in deeper and deeper as he struggles to get free.
Vaguely he hears Klarion say something that might be, “Oh that does sound much more interesting!”
But he’s not paying attention, because at that moment Jason runs out of bullets and Joker’s grin widens impossibly. “All done now? Is it my turn already?”
“Fuck you!” Defiant to the end, Jason chucks both guns at Joker’s head. It only buys him a second more. Joker shrugs them off and lunges forward. He grabs Jason’s face and drives him down into the tiled floor. The crowbar falls towards Jason’s skull and Tim wails for his brother. He can’t save him. He can’t save anyone. Angry at the world, at Jason, at himself, Tim screams his throat raw as time slows down.
Abruptly Teekl’s gone. Nothing’s holding Tim in place any longer, but the world around him is rushing by in a blur of color and movement like a video rewinding. Then everything stops so suddenly that Tim’s caught off balance and falls against a crate. Bewildered, he looks around and realization sets in alongside a building dread. He’s nowhere near Gotham. There’s a steady beeping sound coming from a small device in the middle of a dirt floor. A woman sobbing as she fights with a padlock on a pair of iron doors. And a badly beaten teen in the old Robin suit laying on the floor by her feet.
Klarion severely overshot.
Tim breathes. He needs to get out of here right now. Break a window above him and crawl out. Just go. He can still accomplish his goal in this time period, he shouldn’t screw up the timeline any more than he absolutely has to. He can’t know what that will cause.
But… Jason’s right there. He couldn’t save his brother in the future. Couldn’t stop him from dying. Again. But here…
Shaking himself into action, Tim stands upright. He doesn’t have time for this. This building is going to go up in less than two minutes. He needs to act now. Without giving it anymore thought, Tim steps out from behind the stack of crates and heads for the doors.
Sheila jumps at his sudden appearance, looking at him with fear and hope in her eyes, pleading, “Please, help us. Please…”
Tim spares her a brief glance, but doesn’t speak. He ignores the bomb, he knows he can’t disarm it in time, it’s a Joker special. Too convoluted to solve. Instead he takes a lock pick set from his boot – Always, always be prepared – and goes to work on the padlock. It takes longer than he’d like and by the time he finishes the annoying beeping that’s counting down to their doom is getting louder. They don’t have much more time. He looks up at Sheila as he pulls the chain away from the doors. “Get them open, I’ve got Jason.”
Sheila nods, unquestioning, not even seeming to register that this complete stranger knows Robin’s identity. Well so much the better for him. As she pushes the doors open as wide as possible, Tim lifts Jason gently by his less damaged arm, hooking an arm around his back. Jason groans, weakly. “B?”
“No,” Tim answers, softly. “But I’ve got you, Jay. It’ll be okay.”
Sheila returns and supports Jason’s other side. Between the two of them, they manage to put some distance between them and the building. Tim pushes them down behind a rock seconds before the blast sends red hot shrapnel flying past their hiding spot. Holding Sheila’s head down, Tim silently laments that the rock is really too small of a shield, but it does it’s job well enough.
Slowly, the commotion dies down and Sheila, shaking like a leaf, her arms wrapped tight around Jason, looks up at Tim. “I-is it over? Are we really still alive?”
“Yeah.” For better or worse. Tim shakes off the wave of anxieties rising in his chest as he stands up. “Yeah, we’re alive.”
She turns her attention to Jason. “…He tried to save me. Even after…”
“… That’s what Robin does.” Tim coughs to try and hide the sadness in his voice.
There’s a silence between them as Sheila starts patching up Jason’s injuries. Then she glances at Tim again, stops, and stares at him. “Who-Who are you?”
“I’m…” He trails off, uncertain, and just then he hears the sound of a jeep growing closer. He sighs. “Nobody important. Stay here.”
She nods, hesitantly, and Tim steps away from the rock heading back towards the smoldering remains pile of rubble that was once a warehouse. He watches as the jeep slides to a halt and Batman jumps out and runs to the wreckage. Everything about this is a goddamn mess.
“Batman!” Tim yells as he gets close enough to be heard.
Bruce doesn’t seem to hear him.
“Over here! Hey!” Tim tries again, but that doesn’t work either. Dammit. “Bruce!”
That does it. Probably because no one in the area but Jason should know to call him that when he’s in the Batsuit. Bruce whips around and looks straight down at Tim panic turning to suspicion. Looks like he’s about to demand Tim’s identity immediately, Tim ignores it and jerks his head towards Jason and Sheila. The tension bleeds out of Bruce just a bit as he spots the pair. In the end he doesn’t speak to Tim, just rushes past him to where Sheila and Jason are.
Sheila looks up at Bruce as he approaches, saying, with some trepidation, “He needs some serious treatment, but… I-I think he’ll be okay. I hope he will. We can take back to the camp and I’ll treat him there.”
Without really responding, Bruce gathers Jason into his arms with intense care. Tim watches in silence as Sheila runs ahead to the jeep with Robin’s cape spreading it out in the back and climbing in, waiting for Bruce to lay Jason there. His job here is done. It’s time to leave. Jason will be okay. It will all--
“Come on.” Bruce’s voice rumbles beside him.
“I—” Tim starts to shy away, but Bruce, dexterous as ever, manages to grab him by the elbow while still holding Jason firmly.
“You need treatment too.” Bruce indicates Tim’s left arm with a tilt of his head.
Tim looks down and frowns at the blood soaking into his sleeve. Teekl had really dug their claws in it seems. “…Okay.”
Meekly, he follows Bruce back to the jeep, jumping into the passenger seat while Sheila and Bruce situate Jason in the back. Some part of Tim is screaming that he should run. Now. While they’re distracted. Leave. Don’t give Bruce anymore chances to figure him out.
He doesn’t.
He’s tired, drained beyond even his normal capacity, and, Bruce is right, he needs his injuries treated. So he just closes his eyes and leans back as the car starts and they speed away to save the boy who should have died.
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guiltypleasurefandomface · 6 months ago
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I had two very detailed dreams last night. They weren't related to each other at all but clearly relevant to me.
The first was that I was working in some way related to a film being filmed in a train station - sort of looked like Lims Street in one direction and an older one with wooden slatting in another, with Tudor style facade you see in Chester on the walls. And I had to keep telling people that yes although there were trains on the track they weren't actually going anywhere because this line wasn't in use today, we were filming. Please go to wherever and get a train from there. And people argued!! And they wanted to just get on and see if it went anyway. Just incase. Like, no!! We've got the set ready, the trains are definitely not going anywhere. If the trains start moving, our actors and director would have more to worry about than just remembering lines and keeping the lens clean.
I honestly had held of my hair and was pulling on it like some cartoon characters, because these people were so infuriating. So then someone came up beside me and said "excuse me" and I whirled around and I said to them No!! You can't get on the train!! It's not going to your destination, it's not going to any destination!! It is parked up whilst we film. Sorry for the inconvenience, take it up with the director!!
And it was Brian May. For some reason he was interested in taking a couple of photos of the train whilst it was empty. Whoops. Sorry Brian.
I don't know if we let him in or not.
The second dream I was travelling down south to somewhere coastal so it could have been Devon or Cornwall or Dover, I don't know. But I was on a coach and we had to get off. We were only allowed to continue our journey if we could prove we could contribute something positive to the area. And I was panicking because, I'm chronically ill, I sleep around the clock in catnaps, I'm not fit or healthy and I'm not very physically capable in an emergency. I can't built houses, I can't do maths, I'm bad at geography and I have no full qualifications to my name. And my friend was like "you can speak German"
I can't speak German.
And my friend was saying I should just throw all of what I know at the lady. How's she gonna know that it's not fluent German?
So she comes to me, and she looks like Angelica Huston for the record, circa Daddy Day Care, and asks what I can contribute and I was like, I can speak German? And she went oh brilliant, can you prove it?
So I went something like Ich mochte vier erdbeeran bitte. Meine hund mochte kase nie Aber Der bär spielt füßball. Hast du geld für Der u-bahn? Es ist so taur jetzt. (Thank you Duolingo)
And she looks at me like... Wow she fucking does speak German, I wasn't expecting that. Then tells me very good, I can continue my journey. I get back on the coach. My friend, who can play a number of instruments and draw anything you ask her to, was not allowed because the only thing to hand to prove she has these talents was the spoons, and they weren't impressed by her playing the spoons.
Anyway I am disappointed to share that despite my subterfuge I can't actually speak German fluently and I have given up temporarily because I got too disheartened to continue. I may speak the German words but I'm messing up the grammar and sentence construction all the time and I just can't learn my way through it.
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certainmaybe · 9 months ago
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Only because I have the headcon that Martin would be amazing at escape rooms
He lied his way into a job he had no qualifications for and while he wasn't good at it he was still good enough that nobody though to check his qualifications. All he had to go of was his enviroment. He looked around in an archive, took a guess at what he was most likely expected to do and it worked. Don't tell me he wouldn't walk into an escape room, point directly to the suspicious numbers on the wall and say "I think we need to use those"
Also the person who couldn't stop then self from touching plastic explosives. Not a good trait in real life, but in an escape room? My man will find every hidden clue before Jon can even make a plan.
I also think Jon would be horrible at it because he is the kind of person to argue that no kidnapper would write the code for the door on the wall in morse code. And then he would be extra annoyed when Martin's stupid theories turn out right every time.
Tim and Sasha would be pretty good to, but they lose time by joking around constantly
enough episodes of protocol are out, let’s stop wasting our time and get to the REAL questions
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kahztiy · 1 year ago
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YD6~07 Buddy-Body: Jewish African Princess, Janine
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I’m reminded of sensing predator’s eyes, then onto facing the judge. Barry Baskin’s advocate argued in court, to plague me by wealth, saying. “He drives a Mercedes... He published a book...” My ego daren’t reply. ‘_The Mercedes is second hand, masked by a body style that hasn’t changed for a decade! The booklets’ cost are owed to the printer! The companies’ mere auditor’s registration _’ I open my door, press close behind, stepping to the parking meter. Fumbled for coins in my hip pockets, slot and turn the handle after each coin, the lens pointer augmenting from the red dial into the black. I turned away from the lens’ 120 minutes display, jaywalk while traffic through paused by the lights.
With a few lawyers and advocates on the plaza, engaging the stretch treads rising to enter by heavy doors to a flurry of people across marble floors, to the cathedral interior, I accosted the man in a fluttering black gown, apologetic saying. “Sorry, can you tell me where I have to be?” The willing listener, glances at my fist’s A7 tight held neat cross folded paper, unfolds Barry Baskin’s summons. The man, with a glance, points me back to the entrance’s peripheral corridor. Parting ways, I said. “Thanks.” Sorry for the man encountering my character. With a thought for him. ‘_But I’m left without options in this theater._’ We split way toward opposing wings, me toward my car parked outside the walls.
I walk through the massive deserted street wide corridor, along a series of miniature doors to capture small plaques, on my right etched with the even numbers, huffing. ‘_At last, I’m going to be heard — explaining to a judge maintenance for the children ought to be pro rata on income, between Jean and me!_’ I found myself alone, cornered by the corridor’s classic solid wooden door, pondering. When, over my shoulder, emanated a figure from the on-running corridor’s shadows around the blind corner. A man in a black robe jumps upon an abrupt question. “Where is your legal representation?”
I’m reluctant to reply to Jean’s advocate, coming to stand in the nook of diverging corridors, reminding myself. ‘_Don’t yield to their pressure_.’ He steps out of his stance, bearing a strategy, reaching for the door lever. Nurtures to mind. ‘_Whatever happens, lose or win, it cost me my inconvenience!_’ Without shame, I replied. “I am.” In anger, the door flings back, agitated stride, he burst into the courtroom, swerves at the rear bench, descends the left flank aisle’s half-dozen gleaming backrest shelf, to the benches slatted dark and empty seats, to pause confronting a bare tribunal.
The judge appears from a coulisse, peaceful in his black gown, with Jean’s representative advocate rushing to meet, in the depth at the head bench, saying. “Your Honor!” The judge breaks his pace from crossing the estrade to pause. Cheat me out of words, the advocate enchains his words. “I can’t stand here to argue a case with a man who has no qualifications.” The judge moves on, lowering to his seat, with the advocate’s pressing on, saying. “I had to practice for years in the trial courts. Years in High Court. I trained under an advocate on record to stand here.” The judge nods to say. “Yes, you’re right.” 
As I’ve lagged to the bench, asking the judge. ‘_Am I intelligent enough to hear figure out your words?_’ after the judge stood up, turning away from me, to trailing words, “You’re not qualified to represent yourself.” Jean’s advocate emphatic parroted the tone-deaf judge aimed at me. Turns away, pressing past me, on his way up the aisle. I’m left baffled. ‘_Why can’t I have a voice at saying. ‘I haven’t got the money.’ Which I’ve maintained since the divorce._’ Dragged by embezzling lawyers into the Supreme Court ruinous procedures, before I launch my new enterprise?_’ 
After calling Hilton Rogoff from the court’s payphone, out of the shady Supreme Court, and again I stepped into sunlight as I descended the stairs to the sidewalk plaza, turning away from earlier’s few eastern pedestrians lawyers and advocates’ upcoming from their offices. I walked past bleached windows, searching hereabout street name among idle cars and a few others trickling through traffic lights. Around the brownstone block’s corner, I jaywalked the desolated street, after Small Street on the nameplate post, to my luck. Panned my view prolonging the sidewalk outbound’s street numbers, to my surprise, towering from the sidewalk, the corner’s quoin signage spelled J.H. Smilg House, recurring across the transom window to the glazed portal. I weave through cars in the one-way street, step on the curb to enter the lobby. 
Like that first arriving at the Smilg House, signed myself into the ledger open on the security desk, stepped onward to the elevator door, sensing I’m entering another universe’s bubble, to stand by, until the doors split, opening to a mirrored cabin entering to close. Chimed again, clear the seventh-floor’s tunneling lobby onto a distant counter — I stepped up to the Janine behind the reception counter, the layout reminding me that first crossing the receptionist I announced myself, and swept an eyesight off offside on the classy valet, impeccable in a dark business suit. He stood by the counter, return leg, saying. “Will you follow me?” I rounded the corner, to a side corridor opening, zigzag in his wake off right through a doorway. Hilton stands by welcoming me, onto introduces me to the man behind a majestic desk, saying. “Mr. Smilg — he is blind.” Afar, the valet, stands by. The old blind man stands up, steps around his desk to shake my hand, with his valet over the old man’s shoulders. Hilton walked out, I followed to the opening folder on the reception counter’s corner, exposes a company’s Memorandum of Incorporation. He signs a share transfer of SFB properties (Propriety) Limited to me. Hands me the folder leading me through the lobby to the elevator.
Jean is held from being present to hear her lawyer and advocate’s claim. “He has multiple companies. . .” I step away from the classic courtroom, shaking my head. ‘_When will this ever stop_?’ Walked the Supreme Court’s corridors, dwarfing in my steps, to accost a man in a black gown. The man directs me around the corner to the west wing corridor. The far corner to an offside hallway displayed a row of four telephone boots. I picked up the handset to read from my open 7-Star agenda. I dialed the Aeroton area prefix to Duro Industries’ number. The female switchboard operator answers. I hung on the silent line. The operator’s voice returned, saying. “Can I help you?”
After another brief silent line, Hilton breaks in. Without feeling I owe, I’m pleading. “The supreme court ordered an audit.” I hear in Hilton’s silence, dubious and straining his voice, onto taking upon himself his new partners at Smilg & Co. He ends waning words by the weight of my case upon, he says, “Go to Smilg’s offices.” 
I step out the shaded supreme court’s portal to bright sunny street, descend the stairs flare onto the plaza. I’m stepping the sidewalk, turning the east brownstone corner, gazing growing white fluted tower. I entered the lobby, paused in my stride, at the brunt of the registered office, SFB properties (Pty.) Ltd., listed among trails of company names.
I stepped in the elevator, exit in mind rhyming, lightening my heart. ‘/. . . Flying through the darkest night/ Searching for some teardrops in / The wind with the ship of lonely loveless / I sail over seven seas. . ./’ In view through the tunneling passage, the blue wavy hair, beneath the overbearing golden lettering, J.H. Smilg & Co Chartered Accountants. 
Sorting, Janine picks from her embracing pile of folders. She slides along the stretch counter that reaches a dust glowing window, telling my shadow. ‘_I’m busy._’ back and forth posing folders in the shadows to the gleaming top shelf. I pace up to stand by my elbow, pressing on the ledge. Her eyes rise, roll her silk complexion, grimaced signals with a jaw drop the tedious file sorting. ‘_So boring!_’ Out the somber end phone rings. She poses her pile of files to break away from the front counter, to the short leg butting the rear wall, further from a beige phone. She whisks the red phone’s handset to her face’s blind side, saying. “Yes, Mister Smilg?” she gazes toward the short end of the corridor to the old man’s office. She nods, flutes a bitter refrain. “Yes, Mister Smilg.” Rolls her eyes as I’m an audience, flinches her shoulders, grimaces, final sighs. “Yes, Mister Smilg…” slender in her summer dress, she hangs up, turning, telling. ‘_I need to escape from here_!’ Her eyes arose, glints. She asks. “Can you go to Sun City on Friday?”
Before thinking, I said. “Right!” I awoke to Janine’s rhymes, Buddy Body, as she voices an irresistible Jewish Princess, her telling eyesight cascade the countertops to the shadows. I’m pleading. ‘_Wait, I didn’t mean, yes! Sure, let me think this over?_’ But each of her hands brings over the counter’s edge, a ball-point pen and a sliver of paper she slips amidst my elbows. While I’m propped on the top shelf to steal from her attention, a spine relief pain stretch. as Janine scribbles. while I’m breaking a promise to myself. ‘_Don’t mix business and pleasure!_’ My auditors’ receptionist rushes, handing me her Hillbrow address, underscored, “10PM.”
I’m called to glimpse over my shoulder, reach at the end of the passage a young man in a dark suit pauses to doors sealing the elevator cabin. He locates his way, steps away, approaches with an eyesight short of me, to doubt my contact. His timid eyes floored entering the reception, turns off-site passing me by, lags in his strides to circle to pause offside. Greets me without looking, but his eyes unrolls a carpet from my feet. I’m pacing away, slowing my step from tripping over the carpet’s red roll. Give him leeway, but so does the latent accountant. I’m eager to shake the man, but I’m lost, too. After begging Hilton for an audit of my companies, walking a foot length ahead, the accountant arrives offside at the elevator door. He stretches a finger, pressing the call button.
The doors split, clearing the cabin’s mirrors, as I’m exerting patience. He steps inside, behind me sealing the doors, to clearing a floor below with my mind storming out to a ghostly corridor. I’m tripping over feet, with the young man abreast lagging and squints. Ahead ghosts a two-way traffic of accountants to sentinels of corridor doors. A few doors across the crack dogleg the shaded corridor. With a persistent chivalry, the young man veers offside toward a flush panel door. His hand reaches the lever, cranks the handle, hesitant he slithers past the left door leaf swing. clears a guard’s ante-room to a distant window’s light shining on a kitchen chair’s backrest to a bare wooden table pressed against the wall. Short of the furniture, he paces right, a doorway clearing a prison cell. He pauses at the head of a small yellow wood desk under the window. I’m left asking. ‘_Which is the visitor’s chair_?’ but he turned around, lowering himself. The accountant raises his eyes across the desktop to my cheekbones, as I sat, questioning. “Tell me?”
‘_Ho no — Need I start again_?’ Begged the young man. “The court ordered an audit of my companies.”
Subscribe + Comment = Editor, or, I'd like to know who reads my work: age group, gender, and your opinion in a tweet.
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 4 years ago
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Being Albedo’s Wife Would Include
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Anonymous said: Albedo x Wife Reader HC,,,there aren't many works about him ;w;
A/N: I know right? There are barely any. Glad to fill that void tho, sorry it was so late I had my bio mock final just this morning.
You didn’t get married for love
Nope, never heard of it
Albedo actually dating and falling in love?
Nope
Albedo was nearly 19 and still had no mode of income
Since he was in and out of prison, he never had to really take care of himself
But since his last fight with Ben, he nearly lost all credibility in the villain world
And he went through rehab to turn over a new leaf
And he was trying
But he had no identity, no qualifications and no contacts
Not to mention no money
You were in college and were trying to find an apartment to live in
You found the perfect place
It was close to college, the price was right, it was in a good neighbourhood, fully furnished
Your perfect place
But unfortunately, the place was only letting in couples and families
No single college students because it could obviously turn out very badly
And then you find Albedo
“Are you my prince Charming?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Will you marry me?”
“I BEG YOUR PARDON?!”
And he’s like the answer to all your problems
You manage to convince him to get married to you
Pooled your money together to get him some identification and then get a marriage license
Framing your marriage certificate and placing it on the wall of your brand-new apartment
“It’s not like it’s an accomplishment of some sort or anything. There’s no need to put it on a trophy shelf.”
“No actually, it’s like a reminder. I feel like one day I’ll wake up and think this was some fever dream.”
“Makes sense.”
Arguing over who gets the bed
You offered to share and he said no
You told him to sleep on the couch and he said no
So, you came up with a schedule
Helping him sign up to take get his GED and always scolding him for not studying
But he doesn’t really need to study because he’s very smart
Now usually the time and cautiousness you take with each relationship is gone out the window
I mean you’re already married to the guy
Who heard of personal boundaries?
Now Albedo is not used to this so you always freak him out
The thing that freaks him out the most is when you get into the bathroom while he’s showering to get ready for class
Or when you get undressed while he’s in the same room
Albedo gets all the necessary qualifications and then with the help of the Plumbers, he gets a job as a teacher
Unfortunately, he becomes a teacher of the 1st grade
Does he enjoy it?
Not at all
But you think it’s absolutely adorable
You pick him up from school sometimes just to tease him
And he’s blushing red and just climbs into the car while all the children and leaving with their parents and waving goodbye to him
A lot of the girls having a crush on him
“Wow, looks like I should be afraid of these girls trying to steal my husband.”
“Please stop.”
You force him to have date nights with you
Which is usually just watching a movie on the couch with some chilli fries
But he always complains about it
But then goes through like 4 dishes of chilli fries
The turn in your relationship comes when he falls really sick one day
You obviously take him to the hospital and they give him some meds but you still have to take care of him
You do that whole pressing of a wet towel to his face to try and reduce his temperature
Making him chicken soup and crackers
With tea for his throat
Making sure he’s comfortable and even missing class to take care of him
You stayed awake late to make sure his temperature decreases
He wakes up the next day feeling so much better
And sees you asleep at the foot of his bed with a towel in your hand
And something in him just awakens
The thought that someone stayed awake to take care of him
Made him feel special
Made him feel loved
At first it was kind of awkward
He would blush like a school boy and try and avoid you
But you cornered him one day and forced it out of him
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
You couldn’t help but laugh
“Well, that’s not the reaction I was expecting.”
“Albedo, it’s okay, I feel the same way.”
“Really? You do?”
“I mean we’re already married; it was bound to happen.”
And then it’s like you’re a brand-new couple
He gets so damn nervous before your first kiss
But you eventually learn to take the lead
He always pays good attention to you
Starts introducing you to people as his wife and very proudly
One day you both are at the grocery store
And guess who shows up?
Ben along with his partner Rook
You’re off in the snacks aisle so you don’t meet them first
Ben gets on edge immediately when he sees Albedo
Reaches for his omnitrix
And when you return it’s kind of tense
Albedo doesn’t really want to reveal too much of his life to Tennyson
But you can see how hostile he’s becoming
Stepping beside him and grabbing his arm affectionately
“Hey! Do you want pasta with chicken and potatoes for dinner? I’m craving some.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m his wife. Who are you?”
It was very rewarding to see their faces of pure shock
But Albedo is done af
And so, he just grabs your hands and leaves
Spends the next few months trying to get Ben off his back
“What are you doing here Tennyson?”
“Making sure you’re not doing something nefarious.”
“I’m buying flowers for my wife’s birthday, you dimwit.”
“Evil flowers maybe.”
And Rook is just pulling him out by the ear cu he’s disrupting business’
Albedo still gets kind of nervous about your relationship
And you just think he’s a cute little bean
But he also surprises you sometimes when he’s really suave
He likes giving back hugs
Drives you to class and picks you up
And a few of your friends are just like ‘damn (Y/N), you sure know how to pick ‘em’
Helps you study
If you’re pulling an all-nighter, then so is he
Totally is the kind to regulate your eating habits
Very observant and knows just how to make you feel less stressed
He’s not very affectionate
But he shows his love in other ways
Like drawing a bath for you when you’re stressed
Or offering to wash the dishes even though it’s your turn because he knows you’re tired
Sweetheart with a troubled past
Forever Taglist: @simonsbluee​
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luidilovins · 4 years ago
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Some thoughts on gendered ableism when it comes to autism specifically because April is around the corner again.
The topic of gendered autism diagnositics is important to me because I wasn't quiet. I wasn't shy. I didn't cry a lot. I was an "austistic girl" with "autistic boy" traits. I was violent. I was opinionated, I had meltdowns. I bit teachers. I screamed when I was upset and threw things at people when they touched me. Back in the late 90s autistic girls were considered rare and their qualifications had to be developnentally drastic and fit a very exact criteria.
Quiet and Shy autistic girls get underdiagnonsed but Violent and Agressive autistic girls get misdiagnonsed. I was put on ritalin when I didn't need it. I was put on lithium when I didn't need it. I was rediagnosed every few years and I was put on medications that changed my fucking brain development forever. I don't get that shit back.
I'm not bipolar. I'm just not. Lithium should be a last ditch effort medication because it's a course first wave antipsychotic directly after the creation of thorzine and a salt that builds up in your brain system and should ONLY be taken by the people who don't produce lithium on their own. It was maybe one of the worst points of my life. I was a misdiagnonsed autistic kid and I was put on lithium and here's what they don't tell you: It makes you ANGRY. I had constant violent homicidal intrusive thoughts and they only got worse the longer I was on lithium. I was miserable, my skin hurt and I was so stressed I was biting chunks out the side of my mouth and pretending I was biting into whoever was standing in front of me until i drew blood. I shredded at the corners of my fingers and punched walls to make my knuckles hurt and then pick at the scabs. I finally started spitting the pills out into the sink once I discovered I was lactating. I was 11.
People were using ritalin on every child suspected of the mysterious terrifying plauge known as ADHD in a late 90s scare around the same time as the satanic panic and hotly debated children's television censorship and these medications and it was a methylphenidate that was pushed by pharmaceutical companies at the time. Kids were getting diagnosed by doctors endorsing the company and they suffered onsets of psychosis and suicidal tendancies.
The first time i tried to commit suicide I was on ritalin. I walked into oncoming traffic and my mom yanked me by the shirt and asked me what the hell I was thinking it was dangerous and I replied "because it's better this way." I was seven.
The company underwent and lost two lawsuits and people are still getting financial comepsation from the long term effects the meds had on their bodies.
I was on Abilify when my PE teacher clled my mom telling her that I was refusing to participate and when she asked me why I started crying told her my joints hurt every time I did a jumping jack on the blacktop. She looked and saw my at my wrists and ankles were swollen and I had skin rashes and took me to the hospital. I was suffering with sever fluid retention and I had water around my heart to the point where it was teetering on fatal. I was given a perminant excuse from PE for the rest of the year to recover. Abilify is used to treat psychosis, which I didn't have. My mom chalked it up to a dye allergy. I was 10.
I wish I could say it's gotten better since i was a kid but the amount of erasure and speaking over autistic people has not laxed since the discovery of autism in girls and minoreties. The sentiment remains a common practice and shows no signs of changing in the near future.
The moment you add gendered criteria to diagnostics you are glazing over the people who don't meet the status quo and condemning them to both negligence and medical malpractice at the same time.
I am talked over by autism parents and unliscenced ABA therapists and doctors who don't even specialize in behavioral psychology or psychiatry. I am still disected and categorized for my disablity and an arbitrary construct that I neither fit the criteria of NOR believe in and I'M the one who has to live with other peoples ignorance, prejudice and mistakes.
I'm not arguing with warrior moms and #Autism$peaks and child phisicians anymore about their beliefs of what an autistic child looks like in comparison. I want my fucking brain back, I want my childhood back, and I want parts of my cheek back and if you can't do that for me then shut the fuck up and never speak on the subject ever again.
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baus-badass-cheetogal · 2 years ago
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''Wait you overheard that conversation?"Eric asks softly
"I'm glad it wasn't an affair even though it wouldn't have mattered anyways because the way you talk about my mother is evident that you love her or at least did love her and I'm glad you're my father. I mean I don't even try to be cute though but Eric yeah I definitely overheard the conversation and I feel a little more chatty than usual I think it's because I'm a little bit drugged but anyways I'm being truthful. So you guys remember how I was suspended for a few days with pay right before the Tobias case? It was because I punched out Barnes and the reason why I was just suspended well dad knows that."JJ said quietly
"she actually called me Dad and I do know all about that. I happen to be in the room when Linda and Eric here had a conversation seems Eric went through all the necessary train and was more than qualified to be in the BAU now I don't know what exactly happened in the conversation because I was not there the whole entire time but from what JJ heard and look on Eric's face it was a bad conversation I'll let Eric fill it in. But after the conversation I came back and time to see JJ break Linda's nose it was actually quite funny."Jason had a smile on his face
"I mean yeah I was set to join the team but Barnes took one look at me because I guess she didn't see a picture along with my qualifications. She looked at me and said without hesitation you're not the man for the job I asked her why. She looked at me she said we already have one of you people on the team we have one token black guy we don't need another. I argue with her for a little bit so that it was sleep nowhere it almost letting me to slamming the bitch into a wall so I left before I did anything stupid but I guess little firecracker over there broke her nose which is a good thing." Eric smirked a little
Aaron looked mortified and then looked extremely pissed his eyes narrowed his face went emotionless
@spencermaybank
It was three o'clock in the morning a very drunk and distressed Jason pounded on Ashley's apartment door.
He was leaving from the face you can tell his ears were missing he had a gauze bandage on his face were his ears used to be. He was holding a paper bag and rocking back and forth staggering back and forth nearly falling.
(@runaway-dad )
“Jason? What are- oh my god, Jason!”
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sirisuorionblack · 3 years ago
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Wonders in the Rain
Remus Lupin x CEO!Reader
Summary - After being unemployed for very long Remus reluctantly allowed his best friend to find him a job as the PA of her boss. And he would forever be grateful to her for that.
Warnings - Metions of death. 
A/N   This is also a fic written for @leydileyla 's 1K followers celebration. And now this fic is by far the longest I’ve written with 4K words. So, enjoy!
You groaned, throwing your pen onto the pile of papers and stood up from the confinement of your study desk and slowly walked towards the coffee machine to fill in the third cup of coffee since the morning and it wasn’t even past noon.
It was difficult and exhausting being the CEO of the most renowned company at the age of 21. It was certainly something you hadn’t expected when two years ago your mother said it would be you who continues her legacy and take care of the company in her death bed. You weren’t ready when you were announced the CEO right after the funeral, the grief inside you never had time to dissipate.
You remember so vividly as you stood in the corner of the room, dressed in all black, eyes swollen as the aftermath of losing your world overnight took a toll on you. Your little brother, at the mere age of 11 looked up at you with wide eyes unknown of what was going on as he clung to you, tightly and you held him as tight, afraid you would lose him just as you lost…the man who the cause for the illness of your mother. Her husband, your father, whose name spurred rage in you as you recollected him arguing with your mother and leaving you and your brother to watch as your mother collapsed onto the floor. 
You smiled pleasantly as your eyes fell on the beautiful woman you had the privilege to call your mother. It was her last picture. Your brother and you were huddled in her arms, a wide smile on your face as your mother kissed your forehead, your eye closed as your brother looked at you, his head thrown back as laughter engulfed him. It was like the time was frozen and you would rather be that girl - carefree and filled with happiness than…you, life so dark you can’t see anything except for the little shine that you so dearly held close to you in protection - your brother.
That was all in your life. Brother and company. Nothing in the orbit of love. It disgusted you ever since you saw your father leave. You despised that feeling of giving someone so much of yourself only for them to dust it off as though it was nothing but a speck of dirt. 
“Ms (L/N)?” your trail of thoughts were interrupted by a sweet voice. You composed yourself, placing the photograph on the table and turned around. It was Lily Evans, an employee of yours who you could very well say was close to you. She knew everything about you, from what you do first in the morning to your drastic sleeping schedule. She almost knew how you would react in every situation yet you couldn’t label your relation with her.
“Yes,” you turned around, avoiding her eyes. She stepped into your lavish office the only person ever having the privilege of being allowed to.
“So, there is this really good friend of mine-” she started with a feared voice only to be cut off by you.
“Evans, please, if this is some sort of a recommendation-” You said and paused as she hurriedly said, “No, no, no. I mean, yes, but he really deserves it,” 
“Fine, what is it?” you said, sighing as you once again took a seat behind your messy desk. 
“I’ve heard people say things about you never having a PA and my friend is actually, I mean, would actually love to take that position,” she said awkwardly. You smirked and leaned back on your chair, looking at her intently as she blushed under your intense gaze. 
You shook your head, “Fine, but I want to meet him and then I will decide,” 
You watched as Lily’s was brightened and she nodded enthusiastically, “Just an hour and he will be here to meet you,” 
You hesitated thinking of your schedule before she said, “You are free the next few hours,”
“And how do you know that?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. 
“I just heard,” she said, looking at the soles of her shoes. 
You rolled your eyes, “No wonder I can’t keep any secrets,” 
You were known for many conspiracy theories and gossips. It was difficult at the start, many breakdowns later you were broken enough that all those knives passed right through the holes, never affecting you. 
You were not excited about the arrival of Lily’s friend and time passed so quickly that before you knew it there was a knock on the door. “Come in,” you mumbled, too endorsed in your work to even look up or comprehend the sudden presence. 
“M-Ms (L/N),” you heard a deep voice say. The voice was new and one you had never heard of and your head automatically whipped to look at the source, startling the poor guy before you. Scars were littering his face and had a failed attempt at masking the exhaustion. He looked weak although there was a pleasant aura surrounding him, buzzing around him with energy. 
He played with the hem of his denim jacket, shifting from one foot to another. His ripped jeans and slightly dirty shirt telling he wasn’t prepared for this meet. He gulped, “My name is Remus, uh, Remus Lupin,” 
You blinked and stood up from your chair, “Who-why are you here?”
Remus’ eyes widened, “I-um, I, Lily told you wanted to see me. I mean, like wanted to meet me before you gave the, uh, the job,” 
For the first time, Remus saw you smile. Remus always admired you, the power and authority that radiated off you was bewildering when considered you were just 21, a year younger than himself and a successful CEO while here he was jobless and wandering around aimlessly. 
Of course, it hurt that ego instilled in him but he wasn’t gonna lose the opportunity of having some money in his hand to pay off his bills. Working as a PA to a girl younger than you wasn’t often considered a better one, and his mother told that very thing when he had called her minutes ago. 
You chuckled, “Take a seat,” you sat down and beckoned him to a chair placed on the opposite side of the desk. You closed the cap of your pen as Remus awkwardly walked towards the desk. 
“So, tell me something about you,” You said, your eyes boring into his eyes. They were gorgeous to Remus and it was terrifying when the reality set in that he was sitting before the (Y/N) (L/N). Someone he had admired only while scrolling through his phone and watching the news. 
You shook your hand dismissively, “I’ll rephrase that,” you sat in a more comfortable position on the chair, “Tell me about the companies you’ve worked for before, your qualification and some basic information about you like your age and things. If you don’t mind, that is,” 
“No, no, of course,” Remus said, “I just graduated from my university and I’ve worked for a minor publishing house for about six months,”
“And why aren’t you working with them anymore?” You asked but immediately asked him to continue as the subtle melancholy wove into his facial expressions and his fingers twitched. 
“Um, I studied English literature and yeah,” He said, shrugging and finally a small smile formed on his face.
You chuckled, shaking your head, “Where are you from?”
“Wales,” he said, without leaving a gap and was weirded out to find the odd feeling in his stomach as he saw you smile and chuckle over again in the short span of time you had met him. 
“Beautiful,” You glanced at the desktop placed on the side of your table and then looked back at him, “It's not gonna be an easy ride of you being my PA you might know the controversies that sparked in the past,”
“Yes, mam,” Remus nodded, his hands that were tightly clasped together was sweating profusely. 
“You will be sent an email that will let you know about the rest of the details. Make sure you read it thoroughly,” You said, glancing at the computer screen again. 
“Yes mam,” Remus said, fiddling with his fingers. 
“Also, the date when you can join will be mentioned in the email itself,” you smiled at him, “And that’s about it,” 
“Oh, alright,” Remus stood up slowly. 
“Your appointed, Mr Lupin,” You said once again and watched as the glow finally found his face after your confirmation. He grinned happily and said, “Thank you very much, Ms (L/N),” and dashed out of the room without another word, leaving you feeling extremely happy for some reason as you returned to your tedious paper.
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Two months, that’s how long you had known Remus and over time it was appropriate to say the two of you grew closer.
You had never had anyone to stand behind you and guide you to what is right, it was always you, yourself alone in the vast arena named society feeling scared and little in the insides while having a brave facade outside. It was extremely difficult to push everything aside and struggle to move forward alone and without proper guidance.
But ever since Remus was appointed two months ago, he had never left your side. It was as though somebody had stepped beside you on the high podium you stood on, facing what was worse than galloping hordes. The comforting aura radiating off him calmed the burning insecurity and fear drilled into you. He stood like a guard, a mentor and a…friend. You’d go a far as to say family as you saw the ways he behaved with your brother.
Remus never made you regret a thing in your regretful life. It was almost bewildering in the start at what he could do. He had made a tiny hole in the wall you had created for yourself from the world. And the little crack Remus created bombarded him with everything he knew that you wouldn't have told anyone else.
You weren’t aware how he knew all those things about you that even you didn’t. It was as though he knew exactly what you would do before you even thought of it. Remus Lupin did wonders to you.
And (Y/N) (L/N) did wonders to him. Remus couldn’t calm his nerves the first day he walked into your office in that posh suit and saw that bright sparkle in your beautiful eyes. He fell. Quite literally, it was extremely awkward when he tripped over his own foot and had to hold onto the door handle. But you had a smile and beckoned him inside saying it happens all the time and how you had to change the layout of the office. 
Just as Sirius Black - the love god as he demanded to be called - predicted, by the end of the first month, Remus was smitten over you. He couldn’t find a reason to dislike you in fact, every minuscule detail he learned about you just made him like you more.
One drunken confession to the “love God”, Remus was clear of his feelings to you and he was never one to understand his feelings, rather run away from them and he had lost a handful of relations like that and he never wanted to do it again yet there wasn’t a chance he could tell them to you and the victim of the mess of his love life was James (Remus thought he deserved it). 
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Remus groaned, leaning back on his chair and rubbed his eyes. He received the mail for the annual conference that would be held where thousands of companies would be having a discussion. It was a really good idea but you hated it and just yesterday he had listened to you speak passionately against it, although Remus just heard the first few sentences and the rest of them falling into his deaf ears as he stared at you. 
“Remus,” Lily shook his arm, “Remus!” 
“I'm listening,” He mumbled and he didn’t have to see her to know she would have rolled her eyes. 
“What is the email about?” She asked. 
“Read it yourself, Evans,” he said with a sigh.
“Is this what you would have told to the love of your life?” she said but he could hear her voice drawl as she read the mail. Remus mumbled, “I don’t love,”
“Sure you don’t, Lupin,” she scoffed. Remus knew what was happening and who she was referring but he would dare say it himself and be teased relentlessly. 
“So, why are you groaning to attend a conference,” Lily asked. 
“She hates that,” Remus said, still not opening his eyes. 
“Ah, she hates everything,” Lily said and he failed to notice the smirk on her lips as he defended you and glared at her. 
“First of all, it’s overseas and she said they would be poorly organised. Second, she doesn’t hate everything, alright, you just don’t know what she likes,” He said, sitting straight on his chair. 
“Sure, sure, Remus,” She said, teasing and left not before ruffling his mass curls, “You suck, do you that?”
”Yep, ask James of it!” She said, winking at him as Remus groaned, disgusted. 
“Ms (L/N),” Remus managed to leave his seat 30 minutes later, mentally preparing himself. You looked at him with a bright smile and beckoned him in by waving your hand enthusiastically. It physically hurt Remus to think he would be the one delivering the news that would wipe the grin off your face. 
“The annual conference-” Before Remus could even complete his sentence he saw your mood shift completely by how you slammed your head against your study desk. He winced. 
“When is it?” He could hear you mumble. You would be thoroughly pissed if he told when it was. Remus shifted his weight from one foot to another and said, “Day after tomorrow,” 
“Day after tomorrow!?” you yelled, whipping your head to look at him. Remus nodded apologetically. 
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And here you were two days later, in your private plane flying to a place where you dreaded to go. Although the only good thing in this was seeing Remus in a causal outfit other than his tailored black suit even that was overpowered by the fact that it was seven in the evening. 
“We will be there in about two hours,” Remus said, scrolling through his phone, “You can take a nap and once we reach there we need to get to the location they sent by a car they have arranged,” 
“They arranged a car?” You asked, blinking at him.
“Yes, they did,” he shrugged, closing his phone and keeping it in the holder. He looked into your bewildered eyes.
“Do we have a backup plan?” you asked, glaring at him. 
“We-no? Why do we need a backup plan?” He asked, puzzled. 
“Remus, do you remember when I told you about their ability to organising things?” You said, looking at him accusingly. Remus took a deep breath, he had not just forgotten them but ignored them too. 
“Uh,” He gulped and rubbed the back of his neck, “We-”
”Lupin, I swear I am not walking miles!” you scolded. And for some reason, Remus’ damned mind could predict exactly what Sirius would have said at the moment and was almost tempted to say the exact words he would have said, “I’ll carry you, don’t worry,” but Remus knew better.
“You won’t, promise,” He gave thumbs up, “Now, you get your needed nap, yeah?”
“Would you leave?” you asked, staring into Remus’ eyes with mixed emotions and he couldn't place a finger on what exactly it was to give a response, so he resorted to the good ol’, “Do you want me to leave?” 
You took a deep breath. Did you want him to leave? You were torn between yourself. One part of you wanted him to stay with you, having no strength to battle with your thoughts alone although he wasn’t going to do much, his sole presence was comforting for you. The other part was scared. Scared of what he could do and just fear blocking every thought of yours. 
But the fear, somehow, for the first time was brought down and you whispered, “Stay,” and who was Remus to disobey that.
After two exhausting hours confined in that plane, the first thing you did once you got off the plane was crack your joints while walking outside and Remus stood on the side chuckling at you. 
“Well, you are the one who is supposed to do it,” You said, rolling your eyes with a smile. He walked to your side, “I don’t exactly ‘cause I knew how to sit on a plane,” 
“Oh is it now?” You scoffed. 
Remus hummed, “Yep!” 
“How else do you sleep in that uncomfortable seat?”
“You wouldn’t kill me if I said, would you?” He asked, looking at you cautiously.
You shrugged, “It depends,” 
“Alright. Um, that’s not reassuring but I’ll tell - you don’t sleep when you on a plane,” Remus said and watched as you whipped your head towards him and glaring.
“What sort of a creature are you?!”
“A good one,” 
“Ooh, getting brave now are we, Lupin,” You bumped your shoulder with him and Remus chuckled, shaking his head. 
“Remus, how long will it take?” You asked glaring at him, who spoke frantically to someone on his phone. The two of you were still in the airport after an hour or so and just like you warned the car has not yet arrived. You huffed and looked at the large window panels that showed the exit of the airport. The sun had already set, not a speck of it in the sky. It was pitch black, the half-moon already shining with the stars in its company. 
You always loved staring at the sky. It not just reminded of your mother but her interpretation. She always considered the moon to be herself when she was younger. The little stars close to it were you and your brother and the rest all were her employees and comrades. She later said the moon was you and the stars behind you were every single person you would meet and the beautiful night sky was reserved for a special person. However, you tried to oppose her point, she stood her stand and told you that one day you will understand it and perhaps it was about time you did. 
You felt someone touch your hand and when you turned to look, Remus was crouched before you, his scarred hand on top of yours. His bright eyes were apologetic as he stared into your eyes. He was confused about how watery it was. Remus scrunched his eyebrows, “Are you alright?”  You nodded with a smile. Remus sighed and held your hand tightly in his.
“The car didn’t come, isn’t it?” you asked with a smirk. Remus ducked his head low. He always felt extremely guilty when he couldn’t do the job he was given and certainly not when he ignored the instruction. 
He was surprised to hear you chuckle, “It’s alright,” You said, grinning at him.
Remus’ eyes widened, “Really?” 
You shrugged, “There isn’t much that I can do now, is it?” 
“I-I’m really sorry,” He hoped you would accept his apology. 
You laughed, “It’s OK, Remus, calm down and think of how we are going there now,” 
“Yes, about that the organizer said they would arrange us a motorbike,” Remus grimaced in anticipation of your reaction.
“Really?” You asked, your eyes widened in excitement. 
“Yeah, it’s actually there at the exit of the terminal,” he said. 
“Ah! Can we use it then?” sitting on the edge of the seat you asked him with a childish excitement making Remus’ heart swell happiness. He stared at you with a mild smile on your face as he chuckled. 
“That’s why it is there in the first place,” he said and watched your eyes lit up with no concern of the sass in his words that usually wasn’t ignored. 
“I wanna see it!” You stood up abruptly and pulled him up with you. Although getting slightly intimidated by how he towered over you, the profound excitement of finally seeing a motorbike coursed through your veins like fire. 
Remus chuckled, “Yes, of course,”
He couldn’t believe it. Remus couldn’t believe the sight before him - his ever stoic boss had her jaw dropped to the floor as she saw the motorbike.
It all quite made sense if he had to think of it, it was impossible for you to drive it down the streets anywhere back home but here it was rather unknown of your arrival, so you could zoom through the streets as you whished without a sense of fear. It was one of the reasons why you chose to travel in the night while announcing you would be leaving the country in the morning. 
“Ahh, this is so beautiful!” you gushed, walking closer and running your hand across the seat, “Can I drive? Please?” 
“As you should. I dunno to drive that,” Remus said, shrugging. 
“It’s alright,” You waved your hand, dismissively, “I’m not gonna judge,” 
As you swing your leg over the bike seat and adjust your coat, you said, “My mum got me one for my 18th birthday and I was obsessed over it, like that’s was my only means of transportation,” 
“That’s brilliant,” Remus said as he planned the first thing he would do once he is back home. 
You and Remus were high on adrenaline as the two of you zoomed into the night. The feeling of cutting through the air with wide grins and hollering happily was indeed beautiful and in the back of your mind, the astonishment of how long it had taken you for being like this again baffled. 
But it all went down once the light drizzle became fully-fledged rain. Having to park the motorbike by some bus stop, the two of you held your jackets above your head and ducked inside, still grinning. 
“Ah, the bike is getting wet,” you said, the thought dampening your mood. 
“This doesn’t seem to be stopping any soon,” Remus said, taking a deep breath as he scanned the surroundings. It was pitch black except for the moon shining down at you. It was such a sight for sore eyes when Remus turned to look at you, your coat was tightly wrapped around yourself, your hair dripping with the rainwater, your eyes shining as you watched your surrounding. You looked divine. 
Remus didn’t know what he was thinking when he took hold of your hand and ran out of the bus stop. “Remus! What are you doing!?” You yelled as he pulled you to the middle of the deserted road.
“You said to me once you loved dancing in the rain!” he said, pushing the water out of his eyes. 
“But-” You looked around, the adrenaline still rushing inside and it indeed was your dream to be out in the streets dancing while rain poured down and the night sky guarded you. Remus let go of your hand, his eyes never leaving you as your legs slowly started moving as though by nature of the memory. 
Time slipped through your hands and before you knew it, after all the laughter, you were back in Remus’ arms, staring into his eyes. You always loved them, feeling as though they held mystery amidst them although always raw. You knew on your fingertips how he felt at that moment when you could just see his eyes but now, it was unknown. 
Remus had a gentle smile on his face as he protectively had his arms wrapped around your waist, a reassurance to himself that you were indeed protected from anything and everything. He leaned down to keep the two of you close and warm. 
“Remus,” you whispered, silently.  He smiled, allowing his eyes to shut as the echo of his name tumbling from your lips ran in his ears and before he knew it before he had control on himself, Remus blurted, “I love you,” 
He was stunned to hear the tiny gasp leaving your mouth and his heart was wrenched out when he saw the disbelief and incredulity in your eyes, “What��s wrong?” 
“What’s wrong!?” you yelled and Remu was taken aback, “Is that what you ask after telling me you love me?!”
”I am sorry," his statement ended more like a question as he looked at you with wide eyes. The rain was still pouring and he didn’t know if it was the rain or your own tears in your eyes. 
“Jerk!” You yelled, your fingers holding his drenched shirt tightly as your chest heaved rapidly. 
Remus wasn’t confused, he was beyond just confused about your reaction. You were yelling at him like he was some stupid but never letting go of him and now he was never the best at these messes. 
Clearing his mind off all the thoughts he cautiously moved his hand to rest on the side of your cheek and watched as your eyes closed, your own hand moving to hold his tightly.
Remus leaned down and kissed your forehead. He had never seen you more vulnerable as a sob escaped your lips and you slammed against his chest, your arm tightly wrapped around his torso. 
It was the first time in three years had you been kissed on the forehead and that alone proved to you that Remus was different. He is your night sky.
Remus held you tightly in the comfort of his arms as you whispered “I love you” into his shoulder. He never knew when the rain stopped. And now the surrounding was fragile. It was just you and him in the deserted street, the freshly smelling earth, the stars and moon shining down at you…and love.
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messrmoonyy · 3 years ago
Note
Can you do Remus proposing to tonks? I would love lots of fluff today
Hello thank you for tha request my lovely. I’m a sucker for a cliche and I’m a sucker for a happy carefree Remus.
I also really believe that his proposal wasn’t planned. He doesn’t strike me as a man of theatrics and was almost spure of the moment because he was just so overwhelming in love with her. So I hope this comes across well. Soooo. Hope you enjoy :)
Pairing: Nymphadora tonks x Remus lupin
Warnings: none // pure fluff
On the week or so after a full moon Remus slept like the dead. More often than not he could sleep for entire days or fall asleep after lunch and not wake until the evening. Dora often let him. Even when he asked her to not let him sleep so long, claiming he clearly needed it. Sometimes she’d accidentally wake him, stumbling in from some mission with the order and slamming the door to his cottage a little harshly. She’d also gained the habit of tripping over the coat stand, something that fondly reminded him of the first time he’d met her. She’d dashed down the hall of Grimmauld place only to trip on the umbrella stand, sending herself sprawling onto the floor at his feet.
Though she wasn’t due out on any business today , order or auror related. So he had half expected to wake up and hear her bashing around at something. Or even taking a nap with him. But he woke up to silence.
“ Dora? “ he called, his voice a little hoarse from sleep still. Panic set in almost instantly when he didn't get an immediate answer from her and couldn't hear anything to suggest she was pottering around near by. The only sound he could hear was the rain outside pattering on the windows and the roof, and the sound of a leaks somewhere that they never did seem to be able to locate " darling? " he got out of bed and pulled on the closest pair of trousers and a sweater, tucking his wand into his back pocket and left the bedroom in search of her.
Not that there were many places for her to hide. His cottage was small. Tiny.
“ Dora? " the back door was open and he hurried over, a million explanations flooding his head only for his panic to vanish immediately. She was in the back garden, barefoot and dancing around in the rain. Her clothes were soaked through, her hair sticking to her face, and she had the biggest smile he’d seen in a while.
" Dora what In Godrics name are you doing? " he said with a smile as he stood in the doorway. watching as she stopped spinning around and tilted her head back, sticking her tongue out to catch the droplets.
" I'm dancing clearly " she turned to look at him then and held out her hand, wiggling her fingers in his direction "c'mere. Come on. Come dance with me Remus " he hesitated for a moment but his usual sensible thoughts seemed to have vanished and he was joining her in an instant. She squealed with joy and grabbed onto his hands, jumping and spinning around with him. He still didn’t know how she constantly had so much energy in her.
He spun her around with her hand above her head and then captured her in his arms, pulling her back against his chest as she laughed. He rested his chin on her shoulder and pressed a couple of soft kisses to the side of head as they swayed together.
" you ever had a dance in the rain before? " she asked.
" this would be the first "
" good. Everyone has to do it at least once in their life's. Check it off the old bucket list now huh? "
The sky wasn't very clear with the rain but in the darkening evening you could still just about make out the Sirius star. Sirius would probably be laughing at him now, because dancing around in the rain wasn't really a Remus thing to do. Remus wasn't so carefree. But maybe that was the old Remus. Dora brought out sides to him that he didn't even know he had. She turned in his arms then and leant up to his ear.
" catch me " she pulled back with that cheeky grin of hers and dashed off around the garden, mud splashing up the backs of her legs. He ran after her, laughing as he did, trying to ignore the ache in his joints " come on slow poke! " he had visions of her clumsy feet slipping in the wet mud and it spurred him on faster and he grabbed her around the waist, picking her up into the air as she squealed a laugh.
" got you " he whispered with a smile against her ear, holding her close against his chest again.
" congratulations, here's your prize " she turned her head and brought her hand round to his face and kissed him. She twisted around in his arms, her hands snaking around his neck. The rain made him reminisce on their first ever kiss, cramped in a dark Islington alleyway after barely escaping Greyback, rain pouring down on them in buckets. He could still see it so clearly in his mind, how her face had looked with the rain trickling over cheeks, her little nose turning pink from the cold, the burning urge he'd had to kiss her finally being satiated.
Even to this day he wasn't quite certain if he had gone in for the kiss first or she had, but either way he'd never forget it " I love you " she said softly as she pulled away, rubbing her hand through his soaked hair and blinking rain from her eyes " just in case you forgot " he smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
" how could I forget, you tell me everyday... I love you too " he rested his forehead to hers and closed his eyes for a moment fingers brushing gently against her cheek. She kissed him again before pulling back, grabbing his arms and swaying with him in the still pouring rain. He took a look around him towards the dim little cottage, who's only light was coming from the fire, as she spun around under his arm. He thought of how much his home had changed since she had moved in, how she was everywhere in it.
The pictures on the wall, the boots by the door, her auror robes hung on the coat stand, the weird sisters poster that was hanging a bit wonky by the front door, her auror certificate that she had hung alongside his DADA qualifications. And it was in that exact moment that he decided what he was about to do. Because they were in a war. And he loved her. He loved like he had never loved a single other person in his entire life. And he knew that they could die tomorrow. Or they could die in years to come if they won. But either way, he wanted to die with her. As her husband. With her as his wife. He knew that he shouldn't. That she was already to be subjected to a life of outcast, even if they did win the war most likely, just by being with him as she was now. And marriage would most definitely solidify that fact.
But he was feeling selfish. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted her. And only her. He wanted her as his. And only his. He knew he should have prepared for it. Or maybe have at least thought it over a little longer, more time to fully determine how he would do it. What he would say. But they didn't have time. Time was such a luxury these days. And the amount of time he had been able to spend with her lately, it was starting to feel too good to be true. So he had to seize the moment.
" marry me " he said quite simply, the words slipping past his lips before he could stop them. She stopped her moving and almost froze on the spot. She turned around, rain dripping off of her face, clinging to her eyelashes. She had no particular expression, but her hair gave her joy away. It had been a deep shade of pink all day, but now it was growing brighter by the second. He held her face in his hands, looking how her eyes seemed to be sparkling. She was so beautiful. She was so so beautiful
" marry me Dora "
" what " she squeaked. He knew she'd heard. He'd said it twice. But in true Nymphadora fashion she just wanted to make him say it again " Marry me " he repeated, a smile taking over his face " I'm asking you. To marry me Nymphadora Tonks. I can't offer you much. Merlin I don't even have a ring at the present moment. And I know that a wedding isn't best placed right now, But I love you. And I vowed to you I would never leave you again, that I would love you until my dying breath and beyond. Let me prove it.... Nymphadora. marry me " he could practically feel the excitement buzzing out of her but she raised an eyebrow and slung her arms around his neck, trying her best to remain casual.
" if you promise to stop with the Nymphadora then you've got yourself a yes Mr. Lupin " he couldn't help but laugh at her and her lips lifted up into that grin that he loved so much.
" so...is that a yes "
" of course It is you silly git " and she stood up on her tiptoes and pulled him in for a kiss so passionate that he was certain that it must be illegal in some parts of the world. The rain was starting to chill him a bit but he couldn't find it in him to care. Because he was getting married. He was marrying her. His Dora.
His wonderful, beautiful, caring Dora.
" would I be Mrs. Lupin then? " she asked a little breathlessly as she pulled away from the kiss.
" I think... I think it'd be best if you waited until after the war for that. Just in case "
" and if we don't outlive this war? I won't die a Tonks if I'm married to you.... what about Tonks-Lupin huh? "
" even that is dangerous " he said softly, knowing that she wouldn’t settle for anything less than what she’d suggested. But he had to warn her.
" I don't care. I don't. You know I don't. I wanna be a Lupin. I wanna be like you, I wanna show I'm yours " he wasn't about to argue with that. He wanted her to be his too, in name and in law and everything in between that. Though he would have the conversation with her again, just not right now. He kissed her and she smiled against his lips. She knew she'd won. But he let her revel in her supposed win, because now he guessed he had an entire lifetime with her to go, an entire lifetime of others things she could lay claim to winning.
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pokemonruby · 2 years ago
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hi so i know it’s been a while since i’ve last made a personal post or anything since i’ve been preoccupied with my novel & also nothing really goes on in my life that’s interesting enough to like, talk about but that. uhm. changed today
... so apparently my older brother is having a kid, but i don’t exactly think a “congratulations” is in order since i’m honestly quite skeptical about the whole thing. firstly, i wasn’t supposed to know this since they don’t like telling me anything frankly, but when your room is right next to the kitchen and you can basically hear everything that goes on in there since the walls are paper-thin you can’t blame me for unintentionally eavesdropping. anyway, his girlfriend got an abortion back in 2020, and while it is fully possible they could have had a change of heart, my state recently declared that they would ban abortions and i find that incredibly suspicious, especially considering what happened with the first one. so it could be that they don’t actually want this child but they’re being forced to since this country is a piece of fucking shit, and considering that he and his girlfriend tend to argue and argue nonstop (yes, they’re one of those straight couples who stick together even though it’s fairly obvious they don’t hold any genuine affection for each other) and my brother has his own slew of personal issues, and while he has definitely developed as a person i don’t believe he harbors the exact qualifications nor patience to raise a child when he can just rarely take care of himself. 
... and i come from a place of familarity since my mother certainly didn’t have those qualifications either. it’s because of her that i basically cannot function like a normal person and why i’m so mentally fucked in the head lmao. i mean, i’m personally never having children because i know i wouldn’t be able to handle it, adoption or otherwise. and given that my brother debatably received the worst of our collective trauma, i just... fear for this kid’s future i suppose. this is a family you would not want to be born into since you’ll ultimately end up without support, especially if your parents seemingly don’t even want you.
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