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blueikeproductions · 1 year ago

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I’m gonna be honest, I’m falling a little out of love for EarthSpark because of the last batch of episodes. Part of it is the same reason I didn’t like Cyberverse: the absolutely crap pacing and decision making.

Now EarthSpark did start off well enough, I think the first two episodes remain my favorites because it sets the tone and world up pretty nicely. After that it starts getting … messy. Nitpicks abound! As much as I do enjoy the Terrans, Thrash remains the forgettable one to me. He’s just kinda there and has nothing really to do. He gets overshadowed by his siblings being more memorably quirky (Hashtag and Twitch) or having their own arcs (Nightshade and Jawbreaker). Thrash being the somewhat immature, lackadaisical, older brother IS fine, I just wish he had something to help stand out more.

Megatron’s redemptive antihero role is pry the best it’s been written. Not even Roberts, who ushered it in, really handled it that well since it was somewhat forced and skewed into Twitter/Tumblr stereotypes. Imma be blunt: Cyberverse didn’t even try when they did it. The staff patted themselves on the back for a repenting Megs, but didn’t even bother explaining it in-show, instead giving a lengthy explanation on TWITTER. Stuff like “Oh Bisk got arrested because he beat up another Transformer he lost to at a space video game event” is harmless fluff, describing a major component of what your story is trying to do meanwhile is just mind bogglingly horrendous. Not helped is despite this, Megatron is still torturing Autobots, smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick, which runs counter to him having changed upon seeing his worse Robo-Robotnik counterpart. But CV Megatron was still his more traditional villainous self intentional or not, and I do think ES trying to keep Megatron as a heroic character is hurting the overall series. Transformers has a huge villain problem currently, and it’s only gotten worse with modern media trying to make all the Decepticons sympathetic. EarthSpark, the longer it went on, really seems confused as to what role the Decepticons are supposed to have. Are they still trying to cause trouble, are they just trying to survive, were guys like Breakdown simply on the wrong team in the first place? It’s all very muddled, and I NEVER liked the idea that the Decepticons are just slightly more irritable Autobots because you loose the franchise’s defining good vs evil dynamic that’s helped keep the thing going this long. Even stuff like Superlink, RiD15, and the G1 cartoon make it clear the Decepticons are stubborn and refuse to give up to prove a point. They WILL conquer the galaxy, dammit. And stuff like EarthSpark is just… taking the fight out of them. Which gets to my next nitpick…

So the Decepticons, understandably, are locked up by GHOST for their crimes, and the humans are trying to study them/torture them to make weapons. Naturally, the already angry robots would be pushed to the brink, want to escape the fleshies’ grasp, and lay down the pain similar to Dreamwave and Bay, and while we do see a bit of this, at the end the Decepticons just decide they’re suddenly friends with the Maltos? Something here feels very rushed, along with Shockwave also suddenly wanting to be pals after initially finding the Terrans disgusting. The pacing here is just odd, and a deleted scene shows Shockwave petting Fluffy Ears after he was just about to turn her into hamburger meat a moment before. It’s funny out of context, but it still doesn’t make sense. It skews uncomfortably into Diamond territory for me, where I get the logic, but how they got there doesn’t work (at least for me). You CAN have redemption stuff, heck Decepticon like robots like DragoBurst from Daigunder came around, but they, for the most part, properly built up to this. The Decepticons being “good” feels like a split second decision that had no real pay off. Because again, in the past, if the Decepticons helped the Autobots, it was an enemy of my enemy/Earth is where we keep our stuff thing, and they’d go right back to trying to destroying it once the third party was dealt with.

And I feel like EarthSpark may have had some internal problems with the story. How much of this was Nick not being cooperative ala Rise of the TMNT or just genuinely bad planning I’m not sure. The biggest issue for me was Ravage, and, to an extent, Starscream too. Early on they had Screamer, Wave and Ravage concocting a scheme by letting the dog-cougar cassette out into GHOST to snoop around, Starscream laughing evilly with his glowing red eyes. Inexplicably, Starscream’s eyes are blue, even in flashbacks, which has confused a lot of people, and the show doesn’t address this. A characters’ eyes turning red to accentuate a point isn’t a new thing in animation, but I don’t think that’s what this was…? I was assuming it was Allspark Affinity, but I don’t think it’s that either. More than likely him having blue eyes is meant to show he’s a good boy deep in his shell, similar to IDW’s “true inner Starscream” thing. …However, and this comes back to Ravage, Starscream was originally planning to sic Shockwave on Megatron for what amounts to the usual petty revenge on Starscream’s part. Ravage was sent out to get the remote that controlled Shockwave’s stasis pod, but this scene was cut entirely, instead explaining Shockwave’s escape as simply poor upkeep on his pod. The scene was cut for time, but … WHY? There was surely a better means to incorporate Ravage snooping around instead of just turning it into a dropped sub plot. The show attempts to course correct by suggesting via Swindle this was an attempt at a prison break until Hashtag and Mandroid initiated it instead, but Ravage is unaccounted for. I’m assuming this was a plot point that was debated on, as the official guide book INSTEAD says that Soundwave had Ravage snoop around for info on the Allspark due to an agreement they had with Prime and Megs when they got arrested. It feels like they just couldn’t decide on what to do, and chose neither, and while they could have Ravage later reappear and go “Hey guys I found the Allspark’s location and a whole bunch of ancient Cybertron relics on GHOST’s computers!” in S2, that’s fine, but I don’t trust the writers atm to do so…

There’s also turning Starscream into a trauma victim. Again sort of that Steven Universe/fandom mentality made canon thing that bothers me, BUT I completely get what they were going for. The problem for me is that even in the 80’s, Starscream’s constant beatdowns were played for laughs, and frankly a lot of the time Starscream had it coming in the first place. Starscream may have had more common sense than Megatron, but he was also driven by his pride, ego and his comedic sense of self preservation. Starscream also would bite off more than he could chew by messing with relics like the Enigma of Combination, Omega Lock and the Underbase, usually destroying himself in his quest for godhood to simply one up Megatron and show how much better he is at being evil and/or just being a petty glitch. So to play the dynamic straight and make Starscream more of a domestic abuse victim feels… wrong, especially when I’ve seen plenty of Megscreamer ship art of the G1 and Prime versions that suggests… a bit of hypocrisy in the name of a ship. I think Micron Legend Starscream handled the idea the best, though there Screamer was more a young warrior looking for approval, but Megatron thought he was weak and selfish, and the two would fight, but it was more of a anime warrior’s honor kind of way and not the more slapstick marriage falling apart way G1 and other shows did it. I do like Starscream becoming friends with Hashtag, reminds me a bit of ML Starscream becoming friends with Alexis, and I think that’s handled well enough. At the very least Micron Legend shows what EarthSpark wants to do with Starscream CAN work, it just needs a bit more fine tuning to make sense, and I feel internal decisions saw the clearly G1 and Prime inspired Starscream hugely rushed into a role he’s not ready for or arguably suited for. It’s a similar problem I had with Donald Duck in DuckTales 17: he’s barely in the show, clearly has a chip on his shoulder over Scrooge’s role in Della’s disappearance, and off screen he just sorta changed his mind and is suddenly wanting to help Scrooge. I get that part of his decision was influenced by how it was affecting the boys, but I never liked how we never saw Donald change, he just … does.

Mandroid’s descent into villainy is also rushed. Starts off well enough and him Roboticizing himself into a monster by the end makes sense, but it feels like some steps were skipped to get there, which was the same problem I had with IDW Megatron going on this big quest off screen we never saw. Also, a plot point is the Terrans don’t actually use Energon, and instead power up with Emberstone blessed Earth water… but there’s a few instances that contradict this, such as Mandroid’s Doomsday Project that shouldn’t affect the Terrans at all, but it… does anyway. Like… what? Also Mandroid and Alex knowing each other doesn’t appear to be addressed either. Especially notable when Mandroid went out of his way to AVOID killing him, only to not have this qualm anymore. It feels like a step was skipped, I get Mandroid is too far gone but even that was a huge leap in context.

Not a big deal, but do the Sharkticons Transform? Their design seems to skew to Terrorcon Rippersnapper, RiD15 Hammerstrike, and the Street Sharks style Sharkticons of Cyberverse, but I never liked how the later didn’t Transform into a robot or a speedboat or something. I get Mode Attachment, but even guys like RiD15 Grimlock and IDW Leviathan walked around in Robot Mode once in awhile.

Similarly, Jawbreaker scanned an actual fossil to get his Beast Mode, but doing so was new to Grimlock… who has a dinosaur Beast Mode which has left fans puzzled. Fans theorize Grimlock may have scanned a toy of a picture, similar to Nightshade, or that Wheeljack helped reformat the Dynobots into Dinobots as a G1 nod. However a stylized flashback shows Grimlock in Beast Mode on Cybertron, which makes me think in RiD15 terms that Grimlock may have already BEEN a dinosaur, just a “space” one. Though that runs contrary to the discussion how alt modes can help define a Transformer, and Grimlock is shown to be reluctant in the current era to Transform, as he can’t quite control his Beast Mode due to anger and PTSD caused by Mandroid. I never liked FOC’s Hulk like take on Grimlock though, and seeing that be an influence here kinda sours Big Grim for me, especially since my favorite incarnations, G1 toon and RiD15, LOVE being dinosaurs. Grimlock is still handled well otherwise though.

A lot of modern shows like this I’ve noticed have this out of balance tone where they can’t decide what they should be. It’s either super weird and cutesy or hard core darkness and angst. The one time I’ve seen this handled well was Bomberman Jetterz of all things, and that’s a kids anime about a little bomb throwing goofball that was never brought over here. It organically builds up to its darker elements, while the show starts off fairly goofy and weird it still lightly explores some things early on like Mighty’s sense of self and successfully builds on it.

Also Nightshade. Oh poor Nightshade. They continue to be the punching bag and poster child for some why this show is bad because it has The Gay TM. I do think kids can handle the concept of being gay, and I think kids can understand to some degree why a person would choose not to identify as either gender. But I also understand why parents don’t want to have such a conversation and there’s a time and place for this sort of thing, especially in kids media. (Blue’s Clues’ Pride parade animation was well intentioned but a little too… much for preschoolers. Same sex couples, sure, the nitty gritty stuff beyond that, not as much… And I say that knowing an older lesbian couple in college who thought what Adventure Time was doing with PB and Marcy was inappropriate for kids). Nightshade has more stuff going on besides their gender, but those stirring up trouble and even the owl’s supporters tend to ONLY focus on their being non-binary, which isn’t helping. The show only focused on it twice, and I think the first time was enough to set the tone. Optimus wasn’t sure if Nightshade was a boy or girl, NS and Moe clarified they/them, and Optimus warmly accepted, and that’s really all you needed for a children’s. Easy to understand for the target audience. The show then has Nightshade learn the definition of being non-binary by a human teen they help out and become friends with. The scene is fine, but I think it’s a tad over-explained keeping in mind the target audience. It also feels like an artifact of the original intention that was scrapped. In the planning stage, Nightshade simply identified as Terran because gender wasn’t important to their identity as a robotic being. Keeping it simple for the kids at home, as well as for those who might feel like Nightshade where they can go “I’m a Terran!” The official guide book also goes with this explanation. With Nightshade then learning about being NB from Sam makes a little more sense with this older concept in mind, but I think a simpler “Thanks for the save, uh…. I wanna say mister…?” “Oh I’m a they/them! Nightshade the Terran, at your service~!” “No way, I’m they/them too! I’m Sam!” “Ooo, delightful! Oh do you like the Winged Sentinel too?” “Do I? I run a big fan blog about it and Changaliens!” “-Nightshade Transforms and makes happy owl noises-“ sorta thing. At the very least, that’s been my experience being reintroduced to a friend that’s now trans or NB. “Oh you’re a dude now? Sweet! So what’d you think of the latest Digimon episode?” is a typical exchange. Unfortunately no matter of simplifying it is going to keep people from disliking the character as being a form of “indoctrination”, and I worry that’s affected the availability of the toy. I’ve seen people show they have Nightshade’s toy, but locally I’ve not seen Nightshade’s toy at all, and I wonder if controversy has led to stores refusing to carry it. That being said I’ve not seen the Arcee or Hashtag finger puppet toys, the Deluxe Grimlock or the Twitch One Step Changer, but I have seen Shockwave and Jawbreaker, and they went quickly, and as of typing weren’t restocked. So could be crap distribution again, but I can’t help but worry the toy is functionally “banned”. I may not be NB, but I do jive with Nightshade being a reclusive, yet happy go lucky nerd. I enjoy their swagger too, something I wish I had, so there’s plenty to like on top of them having a owl beast mode. I was a Beast Wars kid so Beast Modes rule, man.

Anyhow, going back to another point, this is why I like RiD15 so much. It knew what it wanted to be, a mostly low stakes action comedy, and even when it leaned a bit into darkness, it still felt tonally correct with the show. Here we have a wacky episode about an Energon parasite possessed bear, and then they jump into heavy handed discussions of racism, violence and post apocalyptic disaster the next. That’s not organic, that’s just being indecisive on the tone of your show. It’s this awkward trend of trying to make your kids cartoon into a mature, sophisticated thing, but no one has the patience or finesse to pull it off anymore and it drives me nuts. And I don’t think kids care for it either. The age range for EarthSpark I spoke to are watching the Super Mario movie, classic cartoons and older Disney movies (a lot of them, especially boys, were into Princess & The Frog and Moana in particular as it happens) when it comes to western animation. Last time I saw kids interested in Transformers was Prime, Rescue Bots, RiD15 and Bumblebee. Outside of RotB, I don’t think recent stuff has been doing it for kids, as I haven’t found any kids hugging an EarthSpark Bumblebee like their life depended on it like I did with RiD15 Bee.

I want to be clear I still like EarthSpark, and I like a lot of the characters like Alex, Mo, Jawbreaker, Bumblebee, Frenzy and Nightshade, but the cracks have been starting to show and grow larger. 26 episodes and the end goal still felt very rushed as if they thought this would be like a long running anime and didn’t utilize their time the best, and with the current strikes as of typing, I fear that’s not gonna bode well for season 2’s production either. I am very skeptical atm we get a S3, so I hope they were more careful in crafting the next phase of the story. A second season was greenlit when the first season was still being worked on, so it seems odd to me they still felt the need to rush through things as if they didn’t have time. Maybe they didn’t due to other factors? Still I hope for the best, but I’m not as exited as I once was, and a possible Prime style Relic Hunt potentially being next makes me concerned…

#transformers #transformers earthspark #blueike productions #macaddam #maccadam #autobots #decepticons #terrans

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queenofmalkier · 10 months ago

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OOOOOH OKAY. SO. I actually went from hating Galad, to being meh about him, to now sort of liking him. He's not my favorite but I think he's actually a lot more complex than characters in the story - even himself! - give him credit for.

I think he's really the king of compartmentalizing, self-identifying-as-Atlas, and Not Thinking About It and it's fascinating to me.

Cut because I went bonkers.

For starters I would disagree that he's self-righteous about his rule following and trying to do the right thing. Genuinely, he just does the right things because he feels he has to because they're right. (Him being based on Galahad admittedly does color my viewpoint.)

I really wonder what happened to Galad to shape him into this Must Do Good At All Costs, very black and white thinking because it's gotta be trauma, right? He's a Damodred of course it is.

His mother left him when he was two years old. Nobody knew why, I'm sure nobody could explain it to him in a way he'd really understand, but given that it's Andor and her going missing led to a major succession crisis, I'd put good money on Taringail in the very least making comments about how all of that was Galad's fault.

After all if he'd been a girl there would have been no crisis, and Taringail is canonically a power-hungry shit.

The bitterness he must have felt, losing his power because he had a son and not a daughter, could have easily spilled out onto Galad.

I can see how a child would take that and believe wholeheartedly that he'd done something wrong - that if he wasn't Good then Bad Things happened. And nobody corrected him.

Why would they? Galad from an early age was well-behaved and always did the right thing. From the perspective of the adults they probably thought they were crushing it when it came to raising him.

Until he has siblings who are like "What the hell is wrong with you" I don't think anybody even noticed he was Like That.

Perhaps Morgase did, she does think of Galad throughout the series as her son, but she would have been so busy managing the kingdom there just wouldn't have been time to unpack his issues. Especially when for all intents and purposes, Galad having those Behave Or The Sky Falls Down thoughts were beneficial once Gawyn and Elayne got older and weren't so obedient. (Much later Morgase DOES realize they all done fucked up and tries to fix it.)

It's an interesting thing that happens to a certain subset of traumatized kids. Because they're not acting out or difficult, they get lost in the shuffle. People think it's okay because they're "not that bad" and meanwhile they're just quietly losing their shit. (Me, projecting? Nooo.)

Anyway, my point is I don't think Galad does the right thing to be a dick at any point. Gawyn might be a bit flawed, but he idolizes his brother and Morgase wouldn't have tolerated it if he was acting out of self-interest, son or not.

Elayne is the only one who really expresses dislike for Galad which I think is more an insight into her character as I believe she sometimes feels like she'll never be as "good" as Galad. He also gets her in trouble and it must be frustrating.

There is a quote about how he'll always do the right thing no matter who it hurts, which we see during the incident with the ship most clearly, and I can't help but contrast that with Moiraine and her arc in the books and the show - she also is fully committed to doing the right thing (saving the world) and will not let her think about the smaller costs.

Joining the whitecloaks is more complex than signing up with the fantasy hate group of Randland. I know as readers we're like What The Actual Fuck but the in-world perspective of the Aes Sedai is incredibly complicated, even in places that fully accept them there is fear, superstition, and mistrust.

I do think one mistake made with Galad is his age, because he comes off as a 20-something for so much of the series and therefore his actions make more sense, but having him be like, a full grown man is weird. A 20-something could be coaxed into joining the whitecloaks because they're basically a cult, they've got the nice clean uniforms, everybody follows the rules, oh and look at this nice shiny book that tells you how to live!

Direct quote from fandom but: "He claims that according to The Way of the Light, not all women who wield the One Power are inherently evil, stating that such is a mistaken tradition of the Children. Galad continues by saying that the book really says that temptation to wield the One Power can corrupt."

^ Honestly, that passage is not wrong, and I trust Galad's interpretation more than I would whitecloaks who have built up a quite hateful ideaology. It wouldn't be the first time a group deliberately misunderstood their own texts.

We don't see it, but for Galad I can absolutely see why the whitecloaks are appealing. He has no real place in the world (he's not going to stand by Elayne's side as the First Prince of the Sword, he's of high noble birth but nobody, he has some shit-tier social skills) but there's Eamon Valda telling him he's special, spending time with him specifically. Maybe he doesn't quite agree with their thoughts on the Aes Sedai, but the Tower is split, Elayne has vanished, and he's vulnerable to that type of manipulation.

I'm not saying it was a good choice, just that I can see why he made it. Just like I understand why Gawyn defended the tower.

Honestly Morgase set them up to be cult fodder lets be real.

We start to see him splinter a bit when it comes to Morgase and Eamon Valda. He's telling himself he's doing the right thing, etc. but even then... you can feel his doubts. The self-blame. That maybe he did a bad thing and now the people around him are suffering for it. His mother suffered for it. But he wants to make it right again!! And he's trying!

Like most of the other leaders of the era, he sees the writing on the wall and knows they're going to need every single body they've got to fight The Last Battle which means compromising on key beliefs of the whitecloaks like fighting with Aes Sedai instead of against them. (I do think there is a clear dissonance in his head between Aes Sedai and his family - he doesn't want to see it. Sort of like the people who rant and rail about food stamps until they need them and suddenly it's okay because it's them.)

Anyway I'm gonna stop now, but for me that's the bulk of why I find Galad to be interesting as a character.

With most popular Wheel of Time characters, I get it even if I don’t agree. Like I find Lan boring af but he represents a popular character archetype and is the love interest of a fan favorite so it totally makes sense why he has so many fans.

Galad though? I Do Not Get It. He was fun at first, with his self righteous big brother I’m telling mom energy, but then he joined the fantasy KKK WHILE having a sister who belongs to the group they want to exterminate. And it isn’t qualified appreciation like “wow that’s an interesting storyline that really illustrates how otherwise normal people can become radicalized,” it’s “Galad is a gigachad and the only good one of Morgases kids.” Do people really hate the Aes Sedai so much that they think “the group who thinks channelers should all be eliminated” makes some good points? Is it the halo effect around very good looking people, which Berelain arguably also benefits from, even though it’s words on a page and not a visual medium? Is it because Elayne doesn’t like him and a lot of people hate her?

NOTE: I get that Sanderson did his usual “Galad is a Good Person and is put in charge so the Whitecloaks are now Good too!” routine, but it really doesn’t fit with RJs style, and it doesn’t erase their foundational ideology or what they’re famous for doing.

#wheel of time #wheel of time book spoilers #galad damodred

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oumaheroes · 3 years ago

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Congrats on 100+ followers, you deserve it! I love your blog and writing! For the writing-promp, how about some outsider pov fruk?

Reflections

Word Count: 1690

Characters: England, France - FrUK, America, Canada

----

‘It’ll be fun!’

‘No, it won’t.’

‘Yes it will,’ America insists, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen. England’s face through the webcam is decidedly unimpressed.

‘I don’t like house parties,’ he says, but America can hear slight resignation already there in his voice and so pushes again to seal the deal.

‘Please? Come on man, it’ll be great. Right after the G20 meeting in Texas too so there’s no work to worry about; just stay one more day for it. And hey, if you don’t like it you can leave.’

England raises an eyebrow, ‘You invited me to stay withyou.’

America shrugs, unbothered, ‘Then don’t! Or, do- whatever. It’s up to you.’

England sighs and looks conflicted. America seizes the opportunity and goes in for the kill, ‘Everyone else will be there too; you don’t wanna get FOMO.’

‘I don’t get FOMO,’ England snaps, looking affronted, and America instantly knows he’s won, ‘But fine, if it means that much to you, I’ll come.’

America tries to school his face into something that doesn’t look too triumphant, ‘Awesome! Kay, so it’ll be casual, no need to dress up or be all fancy or anything.’

‘Yes yes,’ England waves a hand dismissively and shifts in his chair, ‘I know how a house party works. I do go to some, you know.’

‘Cool cool cool, just making sure.’ America can’t really picture England at the sort of house party he is thinking of, people lounging about on furniture and playing silly drinking games. But it must happen, he supposes- he’s seen England drunk in pubs before and he’s boisterous so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to imagine him in an even more casual setting.

Suddenly, America notes the darkness of England’s surroundings and checks the clock in the bottom corner of his screen, ‘Hey, it’s getting pretty late for you over there, isn’t it? I should let you go.’

England glances at his wrist, entirely ignoring the PC he’s using, ‘Yes, I suppose so. Okay, likely I’ll see you next month then.’

‘No backsies, you said yes,’ America reminds him.

England rolls his eyes, ‘I meant that I won’t see you until then, I already said I was coming; I’ll come.’

‘Good!’ America moves his mouse to end the call, ‘See you there, old man. Try to be fun.’

‘What is that supposed to-‘

‘Bye!’

----

Canada glances about the room and nods, ‘It’s not bad.’

America reels back, ‘Not bad? Dude-‘ he gestures to the living room they’re in the doorway of and then to the pool outside, both places spilling over with nations chatting and enjoying themselves under the beat of the music, ‘-it’s more than not bad!’

It really was, in his humble opinion, probably one of his best in recent years. Nearly everyone had turned up who said they were going to and there had been a steady flow of conversation and dancing all night. America had scoped the place out every now and again, making rounds through the house to make sure there were no stragglers sitting somewhere on their own but there wasn’t a need for it- things had run smoothly without him needing to intervene and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. This is why he liked house parties, more than any other type of ‘function’. House parties had a more relaxed vibe, where no one felt the need to impress or do themselves up too much (unless you were one of the older ones, that is; it seemed that no matter what you told them they’d still arrive a bit more formally dressed than everyone else, as if they had some sort of inbuilt compulsion).

Things going so well was probably helped, too, by the fact that America had only invited friends and family. One, because inviting the entire world and putting them in one place anywhere would always result in some form of argument, but also because this was his house and he didn’t want it to get trashed, (regardless of what England had groused when he first arrived and had seen the condition of the place).

Canada shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, ‘I’ve been to better.’

America frowns, disappointed, before jostling his arm playfully when he notices the small, guilty shift of Canada’s eye, ‘Stop messing with me.’

Canada grins behind his cup and nudges him back, ‘Well, no one’s dead yet. That’s always good.’

‘Amen to that,’ America raises his glass in a toast which Canada meets and downs the rest of his drink, ‘Want a refill?’

‘Sure.’

‘Come on then, I ain’t your servant.’

Canada gives him a flat look but wordlessly follows America out of the living room and through to the kitchen. Australia’s there with Mexico, digging about in the lower cupboards for something and Denmark is showing Japan a video on his phone that’s making Japan’s eyes go almost unnaturally wide.

‘Alfred mate, what happened to those Tim Tams you promised me?’ Australia stands up from his crouch on the floor and looks at America reproachfully, ‘I feel swindled.’

America opens his mouth to speak but Canada cuts in first, ‘I hid them.’

America turns to him in confusion, ‘Why?’

‘Zea asked me to, seeing as they couldn’t come. Something about what you did to them at Christmas?’

Australia throws up his hands and scoffs, ‘Jesus fuck, when will they get over that. Where are did you put them? Come on, don’t be a dick, I promised Mexico some.’

Mexico shrugs delicately, ‘I don’t really care, to be honest. I just heard they were bad and wanted to see how bad.’

Australia looks down at her scandalised, ‘Who told you that?!’

She readjusts to sit properly on the floor, ‘People.’

‘Yeah, sorry, I’ll get them.’ Canada’s job has been carried out to the minimum requirement and America knows that he’s happy that he can now take himself out of the silly argument New Zealand and Australia have slyly pulled him into. He goes out of the kitchen, leaving his empty cup behind, and America follows him curiously through the hallway in the direction of the study.

‘What did Australia do to Zea at Christmas?’ America has missed out on England’s most recent yearly family function; he’d wanted to go surfing with Hawaii instead.

‘Don’t ask,’ Canada says tiredly, the air of an older sibling who had seen far too much. America is offended Canada hasn’t told him already. He opens his mouth to say as much when Canada goes to open the slightly ajar study door before stopping abruptly in the doorway, causing America to almost crash into him.

‘Hey, what-‘ Canada hurriedly squeezes America’s arm and tugs him sharply away in a warning for quiet, catching his eye before glancing into the room meaningfully. America peers around him into the study, wondering what he’s seen.

At first, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be looking at; it looks empty. The main study light is off, leaving the room lit only by one table lamp by the sofa that casts a warm, buttery glow about the place, softening the corners with shadows. He looks to Canada for help and Canada tilts his head in the direction of the French doors, eyebrows raised.

America follows his gaze and understands. The darkness outside has turned the glass to mirrors, reflecting the front of the old sofa that America could previously only see the back of. On it are England and France, curled up together with France’s head on England’s chest and England propped against the armrest, one knee brought up high for him to rest an elbow on. He has his other hand in France’s hair and is gently running his fingers through it, long languid strokes that feel entirely too intimate for America to process.

It’s a strange thing for him to see. He has accidentally caught England and France doing other things throughout his life but intimacy isn’t really something they display. They argue. They bicker. They fight and scream and laugh, sometimes, but they do not do this in front of other people, this gentleness. Neither of the two are what anyone could ever consider gentle, even France, for all his intentional touches and flirtations -the soft ghost of his hand on a shoulder or resting warm around a waist- are not this, not personal. France is very free with his physical affections but they are shallow things, meaningless and ordinary. There is something removed and detached about how he moves amongst crowds, gathering himself close about someone to brush against them as he stands that speaks of friendliness yes, but not closeness. Nothing special to note.

But here, curled on a sofa and unaware they are being watched, there are no guards up or cold pretences between them, just a natural, domestic openness that America finds oddly normal, for how little he has seen glimpses of it. England and France together are many things, have experienced every extreme and mundane state possible for two people to experience, and this side of them is just another shade, as hard as it is to find.

France tips his head back more and opens his eyes, crinkling their corners as he murmurs something low under the muted music that causes England’s lips to twitch into a rare, open smile. They could be anyone then, just two people on a sofa, young and mellow, and for a split-second America can’t see them as anything else. The warm mood hides their identity and blurs their age- familiar strangers tucked away on their own.

America jumps, startled, when Canada nudges him, an elbow into his side and he turns to find his brother gesturing with his head back into the hallway.

He agrees. America knows both England and France would be mortified to be caught like this, boneless and out of character around the person they often so openly despise, so it’s best to leave them as they are undisturbed.

Australia can wait, America will squeeze the truth out of Canada about Christmas and maybe take Zea’s side just for fun.

----

AN:

Sorry for the wait anon, but I hope you see this and I hope that you like! Thanks for the ask and for your kind words, this was a lovely prompt and I really liked thinking about how I could do this justice ;u;

#fruk #aph england #aph france #aph america #aph canada #hws england #hws france #hws america #hws canada #aph #hws #heroes answers #my writing #hetalia #hetalia fanfiction

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hageny · 3 years ago

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Succession Thoughts: Gerri x Roman

1. The Bleeding.

With the season finale of Succession just days away, the future of Roman and Gerri is heavy on the minds of many who watch the show. The pained, forlorn “will they, won’t they” dance they’ve done for three years has come to a painful head, and most in the fandom know--realistically--that the ending of the season will be, for these two, painful. Happiness may be on the horizon, but it’s likely far away from where we sit right now. Sunday’s episode provoked strong reactions within the fandom, with some expressing their desire to call it quits on shipping Roman/Gerri, labeling Roman a “sexual harasser”, and questioning the consent within their relationship this season. As I’ve said before, everyone is entitled to their opinion. But in the world of Succession, black and white does not rule the day; nuance is key. Things are shaded grey, often open to interpretation, and a lot of what occurs is left for the viewer to decide. Lines are not always clear; actions are hazy; intent is questionable. It’s of course no secret that Roman sent a dick pic to Gerri, and it was this conclusion in the episode that sent a lot of people into a frenzy. To be fair, the reaction is understandable. The relationship between the two has always been unusual: the abrupt beginning of the sexual aspect of their relationship, the hazy feelings between the two, the question of who wants who more. But it’s never been put to the test in any definable way, and certainly not in the way we saw it tested this past week. To begin, I will say I don’t consider what Roman did--sending the dick pic after Gerri asked him to not send anymore--to be sexual harassment. Many will disagree. But I’ll explain why here. Firstly, what Roman did was certainly wrong. If anyone is asked to stop doing something, especially of a sexual nature, then that behavior should not continue, especially considering these two are technically only coworkers. But I think the question of why Roman did what he did can be answered by looking at him more closely. In the scene in the hotel, where he goes to Gerri’s room to get her for drinks and she then asks him to stop sending her, “the items”, he says something that is key: “I’m not so sure, I feel like you do want them, but you’re being kind of typically minxy”. This line is key, because it allows the audience to understand why Roman behaves how he does later. We have to consider who Roman is as a person. This is a man who was abused as a child--as all the children were--and was also subject to physical abuse (and still is) at the hands of Logan. His mother was absent, as we learn in her scene with Shiv, disinterested in her children, and saying dogs would’ve been more to her liking. As an adult, Roman is thrust into a world where boundaries are scant--if nonexistent--and given access to a job and a lifestyle few could imagine. He makes references to his mental health issues at times, at once saying he has borderline personality disorder, then telling Mattson that he can’t pee in front of other men, “due to, we don’t know what reason”. What is true and what isn’t with Roman is always in question. The dog cage story is set up early to help us understand this. The gap between his memories and others is filled with doubt. What really happened to him is unclear. In relationships--outside of his with Gerri--he operates on a totally superficial level. He starts with Grace, discards her once she displeases him, trades her in for Tabitha--who incidentally looks very similar to her predecessor, something that is worth noting--and connects to her better than he did with Grace, but ultimately finds her boring. He doesn’t connect with his father, can’t connect with his siblings, and suddenly finds himself in a relationship with an older, more experienced human being who is more sure of who she is than he is. Roman’s awkward fumbling, his sexual come ons, his propositions of marriage, and his jealousy when she begins dating Laurie are all new ground to him. He’s never connected with someone like he does with Gerri, and he wants to hold on to her but can’t do the obvious thing and simply sit her down and tell her how he feels--like a functioning adult would. That he cares about her is undoubtable. But he has no clue what to do with that. So he does what he knows, he goads her, hears her turn him down, and thinks that it’s part of the game they’ve been playing. To be fair, Gerri has been a willing participant in this game. She’s never turned away from their sexual encounters, wanted him to stay with her when he could’ve jumped ship and gone to Kendall’s side, been sorry when she hurt his feelings and made a show of her apology (a very significant, underappreciated moment, considering the whole of her character). She’s a contributor to his confusion because of this. Their union has been set on a foundation of crass behavior: Gerri dominates him in the bedroom, talks down on him, and Roman responds by being turned on. So when he later tells her that he can’t tell what she wants, he’s being honest. This season has seen fans of Gerri and Roman waffle about who wants who, and it’s always been hard to decide. One moment contradicts the next, affirms the one before it. It’s interesting that, although Gerri comes to Italy with Laurie in tow, he’s not really seen by the audience. He doesn’t have more than one line, and is a footnote in the episode, hinting that maybe he’s a footnote in her life. She expends more time and energy on Roman during the excursion. Later, during the final moments of the show, when Roman is questioned by Logan, we see him do something uncharacteristic, for any of the kids. He goes to leave when he’s dismissed, and then stops, telling his dad, “I think perhaps we should not fire her for receiving pictures of my dick.” He asks his father, “So, like, what happens now?” He’s concerned. Roman understands, clearly, that he made a mistake. He knows Gerri shouldn’t be blamed for his actions, and he’s obviously nervous that this one moment of poor judgement will be the end of their time together. When Logan says Gerri is, “a million years old”, he’s obviously contradicting himself, given his romantic engagements, and also borrowing from what Shiv said beforehand. It’s a peek into the societal lens that finds accepting an older woman with a younger man difficult. It’s also a peek into the familiar, contradictory nature of parents, who sometimes say one thing and do another. Logan is replete with contradictions, like anyone else on the show. The way Shiv approaches the situation is no shock. I’ve said before her knowing about Gerri and Roman was the worst thing that could happen, and this much has proven true. Shiv’s only concern is, as usual, for herself. She’s totally self-absorbed, indifferent to the delicacy of the situation, and evinces no concern for either Gerri or her brother. She sees an opening and takes a shot she’s been waiting for take for months. When she tells Tom earlier in the episode, “I may not love you, but I do love you” she means it. Shiv doesn’t love anyone or anything more than herself. She feels love as deeply as the mother she despises: in a totally superficial, inconsequential way. It’s never deep enough that she wouldn’t hurt you. Gerri, of course, is smart enough to know this. She knows Shiv. She knows the Roys. She also doesn’t want to hurt Roman. She easily could have thrown him under the bus, filed a complaint, and been done with him. But she didn’t want to. And Roman didn’t turn on her either. They defended each other, even when they were separated from each other. In a show scant on morals and any real displays of character, this moment certainly was one, as much as Gerri and Roman have any character. There are so many shades of grey in this situation that one could wax poetic on it for forever, but one can only talk so long. In the end, what’s next for them is as big a concern as what just happened, and the future is, to be frank, fairly bleak. This moment both puts Roman and Gerri on the same side but also equally divides them. It’s the perfect thorn in the side of an otherwise amiable partnership. There is an equal chance they will turn on one another as there is that they will hold on to each other to survive. So far, they’ve held to one another, remaining faithful even as other relationships crumbled. There are two answers to the dilemma they’re in: fake a relationship, or screw each other over. Roman and Gerri have always been outliers in that, while other people knifed each other, they stood by one another. The big question is: will they do that now that the chips are down on their table?

#gerri/roman #gerri x roman #gerri kellman #roman roy #succession #succession hbo #hbo succession #succession thoughts

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cinnamonest · 3 years ago

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Childe with a twin brother who was born delicate and fragile. He’s so weak, barely able to build muscle and wheezing pathetically like he would die just after ten minutes of running around. Their parents do their best to accommodate him, their older siblings do their best to make sure he’s happy even if he has to spend 3/4ths of his life confined indoors because he’d never survive Snezhnaya otherwise, their younger siblings are always so careful and obedient because its been drilled into their heads not to upset him as his delicate physiology can easily get fucked up whenever he gets too emotional.

Honestly, he thinks his twin is pathetic. He’d boring to be around, an embarrassment when he went to play with the other kids in their village, and a total chore. Not to mention that everyone who knew of his twin always asked about him if they saw him, giving him something to pass onto his twin brother, telling him to be nicer, be more understanding, be patient—

Its so annoying. It’s like he always came second to his twin, it’s like everyone forgot him because he was the middle child born with a twin who could probably die if you brushed up against them the wrong way.

So he can’t be blamed for lashing out and running off that day when he fell into the abyss. He just couldn’t handle it, being forced to take care of his brother who always demanded so much from him. Always asking him to take him out, to play, to tell him stories, to get this and that and whatever because he couldn’t get up from bed- fucking annoying. Worse when everyone once again got on his case for not accommodating his twin. So he lashed out and ran.

He... didn’t understand it, really, how his fragile twin brother was the only one who managed to find him just in time to see Ajax fall into the abyss. The way he screamed in terror, the way he lunged and tried to grab his hand-

Ajax doesn’t think he’s seen a prettier sight in his entire life, than his brother’s terrified, devastated face as he fell into the unknown.

It’s one of the things that keeps him going while he’s down there fighting for his life. And since he spends so much time alone, he gets to introspect and reflect, especially about his twin.

Needy and useless- he’s life a wife without the benefit of getting to fuck them raw and open, that’s what. Childe spirals as he’s in the abyss and thinks more on that idea. He’s the older twin brother. He was born smart, handsome, and strong. His twin is beautiful and fragile, like a princess from a storybook. He’s weak, so he clings to the strong. He’s fragile, so Ajax has to protect him. Needs to provide for him. Needs to take care of him.

When he returns home, after the commotion and celebration of finding him has died down, he goes to his twin’s room and pins him down with ease as he pulls off his pants and proceeds to play with them. For years he plays and trains them to his liking, laughing at their limping form and terrified eyes from that dya onwards. Happily absorbing their frantic pleas for him to stop as he pleasures them beyond the limit- grinning when their older siblings find out and merely sigh- telling him not to overtax his twin. The betrayal on their face when Ajax convinces everyone to leave the job of caring for them up to him, forcing him to drink his medicine with the cum Ajax so generously gave them after forcing his dick down their throat. He’s already decided- he’s going to wife his dear twin. Everyone had been so worried for their marriage prospects- what with Ajax being a troublemaker and his twin being bedridden- so this is the best solution.

Having his father into sending him to the fatui is part of the plan. Climbing the ranks and acquiring harbinger status was inevitable for someone like him. Coming back and announcing his intent to marry his twin brother to the entire village was commonsense.

His family readily accepts, and its a reverse of their childhood. His screaming, enraged twin begging everyone not to marry him to Childr is shushed, told to be understanding, be patient, be nicer. Told that even if he was hurt he left without a goodbye when he joined the Fatui, he’s back now and trying to make amends. He should be nicer- Ajax took care of him and now he plans to do so for the rest of his life. He should be grateful.

Childe delights in their fear when he pins and mounts them on their bed again, just like that first night after his return from the abyss, after years of separation. Grinning at their pathetic struggle and immediate exhaustion as Childe watches and slowly strips them, kissing gently as he ties him up with his belt then proceeds to ravish them. Taunts that if they weren’t born so pathetic they couldve probably escaped Childe’s grasp for at least a little longer, as he thrusts his entire length so deep and hard into them they spasm, clench and clamp down on his cock and sob into his shoulder.

Grins at the fatalistic expression on their face as they come to numbly accept their impending marriage to him, when their mother and sisters goes over wedding ideas and their father and brothers talk about invites and entertainment. How Tonia happily runs over and hugs them, congratulations on her tongue as his twin just sits and watches blankly, before hiding his face in the crook between Childe’s neck and shoulder to try and block everything out. Ignore how everyone coos or scoffs at how spoiled and sappy and clingy his twin is now that Childe’s back, and Childe’s hand on his back, pulling him closer with a laugh saying how much he missed his twin and future spouse too.

After all, the weak obey the strong, and he was born weak. This ending was only natural.

I have no WORDS anon... bless u for this I just!!

#!#lena's asks #q #tw: incest #.ch

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bigskydreaming · 4 years ago

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I will forever squint suspiciously at a fandom that overall makes a bigger deal out of Dick Grayson expressing he didn’t want to replace his father when he was still young and actively grieving than they do Tim Drake literally hiring an actor to be his fake uncle and saying no to Bruce’s first actual offer of adoption.

Like, if you can get on board with Timothy Drake-Wayne after that, because Tim changed his mind after he was further along in his grieving process, you can get on board with the idea that at some point after the age of ten or twelve Dick similarly changed his mind about thinking a second father would be an insult to his first father’s memory.

*Shrugs* I just don’t get how hard some people go to bat for the idea that Dick never wanted or needed someone he viewed as an actual parent at any point after he was eight. Because you can’t deny that whatever Dick has said about that in the comics, he’s NEVER made it nearly AS big a deal as most fans who cite it at all do. Like, when you run with the most extreme extrapolation of that but gloss right over Tim’s far more extensive efforts to keep Jack Drake the sole father figure in his memory at first, I feel like something else is going on there.

(And I’m not trying to turn this into a Tim vs Dick thing, btw, I’m honestly just using Tim’s story there as a benchmark for how a clearly parallel sentiment is overwhelmingly referenced in regards to just one character but not another. My issues with the way people engage with this particular idea in regards to Dick like, exists without Tim being in the equation at all. That was simply an example of the fact that there IS a discrepancy.)

But point being, as all roads in this particular direction of thought almost always seem to lead to Dick being slotted into some nebulous category separating him from the rest of his siblings, where he’s only partially Bruce’s kid but not FULLY, not like the others....I am the Wary.

Because whatever the surface intentions behind that, it almost inevitably voids some of Bruce’s responsibility to him as a parent, while at the same time making it easier to heap parental or caregiver style responsibilities for the others on Dick. If Dick’s more like Bruce than he is like his siblings in the overall family dynamic, this not only lessens the need to show him on the receiving end of Bruce being a parental figure, it simultaneously heightens the urge to make him a parental figure to the others to pick up Bruce’s slack there, because they’re more partners than they are father and son, see. So why wouldn’t Dick pick up Bruce’s slack and help him out there, and why would he need Bruce to actually be fulfilling that very role with him instead?

All the things people are critical of Bruce for in his parenting with Dick aren’t quite as bad, right, when Dick’s not fully his son or doesn’t quite view Bruce as his father....its easier to reframe it as fights between colleagues. Or recast Dick’s estrangement from Bruce as not actually a failure on Bruce’s part to reach out and cement exactly what Dick meant to him every time Dick flat out says “I want to know what I mean to you, give a name to it, give me an explanation for why you made these choices that isn’t that you don’t want me because all I see when I look at those choices is you expressing you don’t want me.”

Because if Dick doesn’t actually want that explanation ever, if Dick doesn’t actually want that rock-solid expression of Bruce putting a name to what he feels for Dick and what he views him as, then the arguments between Bruce and Dick in his late teenage years DO become two-sided. Its just them butting heads back then. Rather than what they actually WERE in the comics, which was Dick clearly expressing insecurities about his place in Bruce’s life and Bruce repeatedly letting him leave or outright telling him to leave without actually giving it to him.

(I’m not even talking about NTT #55 for once, I’m actually talking about when Dick went to Gotham after he found out about Jason being Robin now. And as the events of that issue get referenced a TON in fandom, its HIGHLY suspect that one specific part of that issue gets rewritten in particular: where its acted like it was Dick that stormed off in a huff there or Dick who didn’t want anything more than to confront Bruce about Robin. It really doesn’t get addressed enough IMO that yes, Bruce said outright that he did it because he missed Dick....and then two panels later, Bruce literally asks Dick to go now. Says I would like you to leave now. Bruce is the one who blew up and lost his temper, literally smashing something while Dick was just heated because he was understandably upset, while Bruce somehow made it like he was the one being hurt by Dick and asking for space from him. Yeah, he said I miss you, but he never DID anything with that and in fact just turned around two seconds later and drove Dick away again, like Holy Mixed Signals, Batman! Y’know? Like what exactly was Dick supposed to do with that? “Oh, so Bruce misses me, but also he didn’t want me there, like I was literally RIGHT THERE for the first time in seventeen months and he missed me so much that....he didn’t even ask me to stay for dinner? Or call or reach out to me afterwards? So....my conclusion is.....what, exactly?”)

Ultimately though, my big beef with the stuff about adoption or Dick not wanting to replace his father, its not even about those specifically. Its about that period when Bruce very visibly was NOT in Dick’s life....and that was BY BRUCE’S CHOICE. That is the thing that needs addressing in my book, and far too often goes unresolved. No matter what the particulars of Dick’s views or wants re: adoption, there is literally no confusion about the existence of comics where Dick is repeatedly the one to reach out to Bruce, at a point in his life where he no longer had any legal ties to Bruce whatsoever.....and clearly express in one way or another that he is there and willing to talk, that in fact he WANTS to talk about why Bruce doesn’t seem to want HIM, specifically.

It was Dick who brought up the issue of Bruce adopting Jason but not him and asked WHY at that one issue with them at a party. It was Dick who returned to Gotham and asked Bruce WHY he made Jason Robin when he hadn’t wanted Dick to be Robin - (and for the record, NO version of events where Bruce is the one to make Jason Robin aligns with Dick voluntarily giving up Robin.....the one and only continuity in which Dick did that, HE made the choice to pass Robin on to Jason. Mixing and matching continuities specifically to make Dick unable to claim hurt or resentment for the identity he crafted for himself being given away to someone else without his approval because ‘he was the one who said he didn’t want it anymore’ is yet again, suspect, as it serves absolutely no purpose other than to lessen the hurt done to him and abdicate Bruce’s culpability in hurting him when he did that).

It was Dick who returned to Gotham after Jason died with no intention but to express his condolences and share their grief, and it was Dick who returned to Gotham to check on Bruce after Tim said he was worried he was going to get himself killed, as well as again more longterm in order to help with Tim’s training.

And in each and EVERY one of those situations.....it was Bruce that ended those encounters, and ALWAYS without ever offering Dick any actual resolution or change in their dynamic. Despite Dick’s very presence in each of these being a very clear sign that Dick was unhappy with their estrangement and wanted a change to it or else he wouldn’t even be there, he would be off being comfortably estranged somewhere else and totally content with that.

THAT’S the bigger issue and always has been, I think. That no matter how else you parse it, Dick repeatedly looked for and asked for reassurances, some kind of actual TIES to Bruce, and that Bruce for whatever personal reasons of his own, repeatedly did not give....even when Dick walked him right up to the perfect opportunity to just fucking say “I would like you to come home more, I want you here, I want you as part of my family even though you’ve already aged out of our existing legal bond.”

Bruce still just WOULD NOT SAY IT. Dick was very clear about needing and wanting something from Bruce that Bruce DID NOT GIVE HIM. Bruce gave him basically nothing to work with in these encounters more often than not.

(In the interest of not being disingenuous here, I do admit that at the party when Dick asked Bruce why he’d adopted Jason and not him, Bruce did give a fairly touching response about how by the time he thought Dick would be open to it, he thought that Dick was too old to actually want or need it anymore. BUT, problem is, even with that it does absolutely nothing to change or address how the very fact that Dick was expressing insecurity about this now meant that Dick WASN’T actually too old to want or need it. It was literally a smack in the face that Bruce’s conclusion was wrong and not actually about Dick’s wants. And Bruce knew this, even referenced it at later points when he threw it back in Dick’s face to accuse Dick of resenting Bruce adopting Jason and not him.....which is a clear indication that Bruce knew it was something Dick still wanted or else there would be no reason for resentment, and THAT is the issue there. That no matter what Bruce said at that party about his reasons for not adopting Dick sooner, that very conversation itself should have been reason enough for Bruce to rethink his stance then there....but he didn’t. Also he ended up adopting Dick like five years later soooooo.....if he could do it then when Dick was even older, that doesn’t work as a barrier for him not doing it then.)

And that’s the troubling part.....how many people try and make that period of their lives unclear with no other visible purpose than to make the fact that Bruce WOULD NOT OUTRIGHT CEMENT DICK AS FAMILY OR ASK HIM TO STAY, like.....less problematic.

And as I’ve said before and will no doubt say again.......that logic process bugs the hell out of me, because it ultimately tries to claim the responsibility for Dick’s unhappiness in this regard back then is at least as much his fault as Bruce’s. That it was some kind of fight between equals, or that it was something Dick initiated or that Bruce had no power to resolve on his own via just his own choices or gestures.

Because it wasn’t! That’s not remotely what all of that was! And like I’m also always saying, you don’t HAVE to stick with the canon by any means. You can literally rewrite things so Bruce adopts Dick before he’s eighteen and they never HAVE that period, you can rewrite things so that Bruce reaches out and ends that period early on by DOING THE WORK of being the parent in that situation, you can ‘fix that’ by any number of means......yet over and over we see that period of estrangement repeatedly upheld as a thing that exists in the history that fics and headcanons reference having happened......but with the only ACTUAL change from the comics being that its framed as though it was just growing pains or Dick being stubborn or a dozen other things that somehow keep coming back to Dick doing something wrong there instead of repeatedly standing in front of Bruce asking for him to clarify their relationship and Bruce changing the subject or asking him to leave.

Again. THAT’S the problem.

You want Good Parent Bruce Wayne? Then WRITE Good Parent Bruce Wayne. Don’t just write Stubborn Teenaged Asshole Dick Grayson who btw doesn’t even really want Bruce to be his parent so there’s absolutely nothing Bruce could have done to bridge that gap back then anyway.

(As that’s an equally critical part of the equation here as well. See, since Dick DID clearly express a want for a clear connection to Bruce back then, acting like Dick never really wanted a second father is a super convenient way to write over the part where Dick spelled out for Bruce how to bridge the divide between them and make things good again.....by demonstrating an actual WANT to have Dick in his family!)

But writing Stubborn Teenage Asshole Dick Grayson Who Did This To Himself.....that is something entirely different from writing Good Parent Bruce Wayne. You haven’t actually done or said anything with BRUCE’S character by just making Dick the fall guy for every conflict between them as though they were just equals all along and there was never any kind of actual parent child relationship or even a DESIRE for there to be a parent child relationship. Where the responsibility for being the PARENT like, lands on the....y’know. Parent.

And for the record, I don’t think this issue is confined just to this period of the comics, I think rather that its kinda the point of origin of a very large recurring problem in Dick’s conflicts with other people.

Because like I said, it was abundantly clear that Dick was expressing a want to be acknowledged as family, or just flat out acknowledged by Bruce at all, during this time. And if people can somehow make THAT period into just his fault.....then of course it should be no surprise that they can make any conflict he’s part of into his fault. Its a freaking blueprint for doing just that!

And that’s exactly why this pattern recurs so damn often with EXACTLY the same fanon beats......whatever role the other character plays even in initiating a conflict is shifted onto Dick and somehow made into his own proactive choice and not something he’s actually reacting to. Thus Dick does double duty as both the CAUSE of the conflict and the resulting EFFECT - aka how he reacted to that thing that originally, he did not actually cause or initiate. While meanwhile, the other character not only gets off scot free bearing no actual culpability....no, now since DICK is the one making all the actual choices in the conflict from start to finish, now the other character is actually his VICTIM in it as well.

And that’s just.....so....blegh.

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lala-ladybug · 4 years ago

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Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje

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Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

#healing hands #jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj #yj fic #young justice #young justice fic

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amaraudermind · 4 years ago

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It's interesting the way people boil down Tim and Damian's relationship to a rivalry. Like, that they don't like each other and don't get on because they see themselves as pitted against each other, or they have the need to be better than the other and prove that.

Because, really, from what I've seen, that's. Not really the case almost any of the time?

Like, yes, when Damian shows up, he sees Tim as a rival. That's the obvious part. He tries to kill Tim because it's all he knows. That's how it works in the League. That's how he thinks he has to earn his place, because no one ever told him different. And I mean, even as they're fighting, it's clear Tim wants to be able to get that point across to the kid, but Tim isn't going to be able to. He's not going to believe Tim, because he's going to think Tim is trying to trick him.

And then I haven't read much between this and Batman: Reborn, sadly, so I don't have a great grasp on how they interact between there.

But for the most part, the interactions I know of between them often come down to Damian being an arrogant asshole, because he doesn't understand literally anything about people or the world or anything, and he's used to talking how ever he wants to people who he deems as less than him, and that's what he does.

(Not to mention the fact that there's no way Damian doesn't still feel threatened by him, because there still has been no one to tell him that Tim isn't his rival. Not like that. Not in a way he understands. His father clearly favors Drake. As does Grayson. Even his own grandfather sees Tim as a threat later, which can't help Damian's insecurities of not being good enough for anyone. Hence, even more arrogance as a front for that.)

But honestly, there's a bit where their interactions are different. Damian is still arrogant, but how he talks to Tim isn't malicious. Tim clearly doesn't have much attachment to his little brother, but he mostly just brushes off how he's acting.

It's not until Damian finds himself on Tim's List that we have another problem. That things are shattered between them. I don't even remember interactions between them after that before new 52 happened.

And Damian's reaction wasn't one of an assassin against his rival.

It was the lashing out of an (admittedly highly skilled and dangerous) child who just found out that someone they cared about had betrayed them.

Or in this case, that his older brother that he was trying to come to terms with knowing and being around doesn't trust him.

I mean, even him looking through Tim's files--yeah, he was looking at stuff that wasn't his. It was almost like he was acting like a kid intent on going through his brother's stuff because he's a little shit and wants to be annoying, wants to know what he's up to.

Kids do that! Damian, in his own way, is trying to--and starting to--act like a kid. Is trying to figure out having not just his oldest brother who's raising him around, but an older brother who's just. His brother. He's trying to figure out how to interact with someone who isn't in charge of him, but in some ways still has more authority than him. Who he isn't close with, but he's got ties to whether he likes it or not.

He's trying to figure out how to be a brother.

And Tim's too busy to notice that.

And then Damian finds out that this person, that he's trying to figure out how to be the brother of, doesn't trust him. And he's hurt. So so hurt. He's been trying so hard to figure it out--and sure, Tim hadn't really been paying attention, but honestly? Damian wouldn't have known if that were the usual response or not for siblings. His only reference point was Dick, and that dynamic was already so different between the fact that Dick was raising him and the fact that Dick’s personality was so different to Tim's. For all Damian knew, this was possibly normal.

Except it isn't, because Tim doesn't trust him.

And Tim doesn't notice when Damian's actions shift AGAIN, because he's still too preoccupied to pay attention.

Damian's hurting, and Tim doesn't get it. Because Tim hadn't been paying attention, and he's still convinced Damian doesn't care whatsoever for him.

Anyway, this is just how their relationship reads to me, at least pre New 52.

#dc #batman #robin #damian wayne #i may do more with exploring the two of them sometime #because i just think their dynamic could be really cool to try to get down #it's waay more complicated than just 'rivals'#but i also think that because of the way they aren't just rivals #that the process of them coming to terms with being brothers #could be amazing to look at #just the way they start trying to sort through all the hurt and trepidation between them #and the way that they start trying to acknowledge each other and learn how to have siblings in a way neither of them really have would be #so interesting #i dunno #i just have a lot of thoughts about the two of them #anyway #my post #void posts

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catxsnow · 4 years ago

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NIGHTMARE SECRETS D.W.

Summary: Damian’s been having nightmares and you just want to help, that leads to a learning more about him than you ever expected.

Damian is older, like late high school age

Warning: Nightmares, swearing, older!damian

A/N: Damian deserves all the love in the world

GIF not mine

Word count: 2.8k

Damian Wayne was the kind of person that didn't believe he had time for romance.

Between his nearly full time job as Robin, as well as attending high school - only to which his father demanded - he didn't think he would have time for anyone in his life. Dressing up for dates or making the time to spend with someone was never going to be on the top of his priority list.

In fact, he thought that his brothers were dumb to think that they had time for another person to protect. Dick was with Barbra, Jason wandered between women and couldn't find the right one to settle with, even Tim was with Steph. Damian truly believed that they were selfish to prioritize a single person over a whole city.

That was, until he met you.

Damian met you when he was forced to do a group project in one of his classes. The two of you got paired up and he offered to bring you to his home to get it done - the sooner it was finished the better. So, that evening you drove up to Wayne Manor wondering how the hell you were so lucky to get partnered up with him.

The two of you worked in the library for hours. While Damian was purely focused on wanting to get this done at the beginning of the evening, he found himself wanting to spend more time with you, to drag out this project just so he had an excuse to see you again. You didn't act like many of the girls at your school, Damian saw raw, genuine happiness radiate from you.

As days went by, he found himself constantly stealing glances your way. He'd ask to join you for lunch until finally gaining enough courage to ask to see you outside of school.

Damian suddenly started to understand why his brother's enjoyed dating. He understood wanting more of this feeling that filled his entire body when he saw you. Damian craved that feeling, he needed it - and thanks to you, he got it.

You were just as entranced with Damian as he was with you. You saw past his sometimes cold exterior and began to see the real him - the him that never got to shine while he was with the League. You saw how much he loved to read, no matter the time or place. How much he loved animals and how much he enjoyed painting.

Damian was a hidden treasure within the piles of coal.

It didn't take long for the two of you to starting dating. What followed next, was nothing but harassment from his brothers - particularly the oldest one. Damian would get endlessly teased for finally caving to a relationship after everything he said. You couldn't help but sometimes join his brother's in their bugging.

That night, you were over at the manor. You and Damian were both working on some homework until you finally had enough of it. Damian was dragged out of the study and up to his bedroom where the two of you were curled up on his bed watching a movie. Alfred even brought you up popcorn and drinks.

Damian never appreciated affection before. He didn't see the purpose of hugs or human contact but now? Now he couldn't get enough of it. Damian craved the warmth you radiated, especially on cold nights when you were miles away from him. Having you cuddled into his side was exactly what he needed.

His hand stroked up and down your back, nearly lulling you to sleep. Though his hands were rough and calloused, he always seemed to be overly delicate with you. After the harshness that he delivered to criminals at night, he feared he would break you with a simple touch.

"Dami," you mumbled. Your head was tucked into his chest and wished to never leave his embrace. These past months of dating him had shown you a side of Damian that you never expected to see. He was gentle, despite his rough exterior.

"Yes, beloved?" Damian kissed the top of your head. You didn't know about his second life, and he planned to keep it that way for as long as possible. Without knowing he was Robin, you worried about him already. Adding that extra stress on top of that? Damian couldn't do that to you.

"Did you want to talk about last night?" You stayed over Friday night with him and had no intentions of staying Saturday as well but somehow he had convinced you otherwise. You had the odd sleepover here and there - mostly when your parents were out of town. However, last night, Damian had woken in the middle of the night from what you presumed to be a nightmare.

Sweat drenched his skin and he was breathing heavily. You woke up from his abrupt movement of being in his arms, to him suddenly jumping out of bed. Not sure if you were dreaming or not, you watched him pace back and force by his bed side until finally looking at you and holding you once more.You heard him whisper something, but it was a language you couldn't understand.

All you knew was that Damian left soft kisses on your skin and held you to his chest the rest of the night.

You wanted to bring it up to him that morning but it hadn't happened. Throughout the day you figured that if he wanted to talk about it, he would. It was chewing you up wondering if he was okay and what could have been so bad to put him in shock like that.

"No," Damian tensed. He was acutely aware of how you were tracing the raised skin of his scars over his shirt. Months of being with him had you nearly memorizing where every flaw of his skin was. You never questioned where he got them from or why, but that didn't make you worry any less about them.

Damian grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers. He didn't want you to worry about things that were in the past, things you couldn't change.

For some reason, you were hurt by his abrupt answer. Did he not trust you enough to speak about his feelings? Or was it that he was hiding something from you? Damian seemed to pick up on you sudden change of mood and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it.

"It is nothing to worry about," Damian tried to comfort you. You nodded your head, scared that if you spoke that your voice would crack from the tightness in your throat. "My childhood differed greatly from yours. I was raised differently and that has affected me since being in Gotham. I promise you, you did nothing wrong."

"I worry about you, Damian," you sighed. This time, you sat up on the bed, no longer leaning against him. You wanted him to know that you were being serious right now, that this matter had been something you always worried about. Damian often woke from nightmares, he was usually better at concealing it when he was with you.

"I know, beloved," Damian cupped you cheek. "I never wish to burden you with my problems."

"That's what being in a relationship is about," your chin wobbled and you had to bite your lip to make it stop. "I want to help you but how am I supposed to help when you never fully let me in?"

Damian kissed you. He kissed you with compassion and hope that one day he would be able to tell you these things. You could nearly feel his emotions radiating off of him as he brought you back in for another. When he broke off the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes sealed shut to ground him back to reality.

'I love you' sat at the tip of your tongue but never made it out. As much as you wanted to tell Damian how strong your feelings for him were, you feared what he had in response.

I would hold you in my arms every night if I could.

But he couldn't bring himself to say that to you. Not while he lived a dangerous life as Robin. Not while he risked his life every night. He couldn't bring himself to confide in you when you would get heart-broken. Damian cared about you too much to drag you down into the crime-fighting life that he was in.

You had been peacefully sleeping that night when Damian started tossing in his sleep. At first he had just rolled away from. Then his limbs started twitching until they were violently grasping at the sheets, at you, anything that was near. The bed you shared began to get warm and you could feel the sweat drench Damian's skin as he rushed against you.

He was having another nightmare, just like the night before. You tried to wake him by calling out his name, which hadn't worked. Carefully, you grabbed onto his shoulders and gave him a little shake. Damian's eyes popped wide open and on instinct, he had flipped you over and pinned you to the bed with his forearm against your throat. It wasn't enough to cut off your air way or hurt you - but it sure as hell scared you.

Upon realizing that it was you below him, Damian released you from his grasp and leaped out of bed. He was horrified that he had come so close to hurting you. One wrong move and he could have broken you. Damian cursed at himself aloud in the same language he spoke the previous night - Arabic.

"Fuck," Damian called out. His bare feet padded against the floor as he shook his head. Never in his life had he been so angry with himself for being so careless. You weren't like Dick or any of his siblings, you were fragile. This violent, horrendous world that he lived in wasn't meant to include you.

"Dames," you barely spoke above a whisper. You sat on the edge of the bed, watching him move. "You need to talk about this, please. If not to me then someone. I can't keep seeing you like this, seeing you in pain hurts me. I can't keep holding my tongue about worrying about you anymore, it isn't fair."

Damian sighed, his pacing stopped and he sat down beside you. You could see his hands shaking in his lap and grabbed onto them in hopes to bring it to a stop. He tried to rip his hands away from you but you only tightened your grip.

"It's nothing to worry about," Damian tried to assure you. It didn't work, in fact it only angered you that he wasn't willing to take care of himself. Damian deserved to be worry free and happy as much as he didn't want to accept it.

"Bullshit," you reacted. "This is ridiculous, Damian. You're obviously not okay. This is two nights in a row that you woke up from a nightmare I can't even imagine how many you have when I'm not here. I'm not putting up with this anymore - I want you to be happy but you can't until you’re willing to help yourself. Fuck, Damian - I love you. Please... please just, I want to help."

You had said it, the L-word. A phrase that hadn't yet been used in your relationship but now was as good as time as any to tell him. You hoped that maybe if he knew how much you truly cared about him that he would open up to you. You wanted Damian to know that you would carry every star into the sky just to see him smile.

Damian sat next to you, his heart rate rising at an unhealthy rate. He was just being able to understand these emotions and how to react with them, but love? Love was something he wasn't sure he was ready to conquer, at least not with anyone besides you.

"Dames."

Without a second thought, Damian tightened his grip in your hand and abruptly stood up. His body language told you to follow him - to which you did. Damian dragged you out of his room and down to his father's study. You hadn't been in the room very many times, though it was beautiful.

Damian paused in front of the old grandfather clock. He stared at his reflection within in the glass for several moments before opening the panel and pulling one of the dongles. A click echoed through the dark empty room and suddenly the clock opened away from the wall.

What the hell is going on?

"Do you trust me, beloved?" Damian asked you. His hand was outstretched to yours and his stood on the first step of what appeared to be a long case of stairs. It was darker down there than in the room and you shuddered at what could possibly be hiding down there.

"With my life," you answered, placing your palm in his. Damian lead you down the long narrow staircase until you reached the bottom. Lights flickered within the space, illuminating the giant room. However, room didn't seem to be the right word - a cave of sorts. Damian stood at the entrance, watching you roam around.

Computers were scattered in front of you but that wasn't what caught your eyes. The expensive, high tech car that only one person in Gotham ever drove: Batman. The infamous suit of Batman and Robin was hung in glass cases and a wall of their weapons and gadgets.

You were in the batcave.

"What the fuck?" You turned back to Damian. "This is..." You couldn't even find the words that you wished to say. Everything that you were seeing was completely unexpected. You were in awe.

"You wanted me to open up about myself," Damian joined you. The two of you stood directly in front of the Robin suit. "This is it," he gestured to his suit. You looked between the red, green, and yellow material and back at you boyfriend. He was Robin, Bruce was Batman - the rest of his siblings too.

"Holy shit, Damian," you breathed out. The scars, the nightmares, his ridiculous reflexes, it all made sense. Without another thought, you cupped his face and brought him into a kiss. Damian pulled you closer by the hips and deepened the kiss. Your bodies molded together and you never wanted to break free. "You're Robin."

"Yes."

You understood why he never wanted to tell you. Knowing his identity put you in danger. You couldn't even imagine the terrible things he had seen out on the streets of Gotham. Horrible flashes of news reports and papers crossed your mind, all of them about times that Batman and Robin did anything or every time they got hurt.

He put himself out there every night and you couldn't think of anything more braver. Damian was truly a hero, inside and out. He was your hero before knowing this secret and he always would be.

"This is incredible," you were still in complete awe. "You trust me with such a big secret?"

"Yes," he repeated. "I love you, (Y/N). You taught me how to fall in love, to appreciate the small things in life. You brought a light to my life that I never thought I would ever be able to see. So, of course I trust you with this, beloved."

You could feel tears in your eyes at his words. Damian never spoke of romantic sayings to you. He showed his love with actions but hearing him say this? It made you realize how much you truly did love him. He was everything you needed in life, and more.

"You never run out of surprises, do you?" You tried to laugh. The pad of Damian's thumb wiped under you eye to make sure that no tears would remain on your cheek. He knew these were happy tears yet he still never wished to see you cry. Certainly not because of him. Damian kissed you once more. "Fuck, do I love you, Damian Wayne. I should have said it sooner."

"And I, you," Damian smiled at you. The genuine happiness he felt with you never competed with any other feelings he had. "I'm sorry that I had to keep this from you for so long, you deserve the truth."

"I don't deserve you."

Damian shook his head. It was the opposite, he didn't deserve you. Damian never felt good enough by your side, not while knowing all the bad things that he had done in his life. But you? All you could see was the good in him, the good that helped the innocent who couldn't help themselves. You saw the bravery and selflessness in him.

"You deserve the world, my love."

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne oneshot #damian wayne x reader #older!damian #dc imagine #dc #batfam imagine #batfam x reader #batfam #fluff #robin #robin imagine #older!damian imagine

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gagmebucky · 4 years ago

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hiiii i wrote this awhile ago but took it down because i was 👉🏼👈🏼 embarrassed about it (because i do not have the skill to pull off peter parker) and sorta still am but everyone’s been so nice to me about it i thought the best way to repay the kindness by posting it for those who did like it 😅 (originally inspired by spider man 2 with andrew garfield but loosely set in the 2018 issue of the amazing spider-man.)

in which the guys are making fun of peter and accidentally see a video of him fucking you. (includes avenger!peter x girlfriend!you, peter’s pov, voyeur!steve and voyeur!bucky, a sex tape featuring d/s dynamics, bondage, praise kink, exhibitionism, unprotected sex.)

do not repost.

—

Despite being twenty-one years old; a proper adult who lives with his high school sweetheart, a photographer doubling as a seven-year veteran vigilante in the dangers of New York, Peter Parker is still considered as a super-powered amateur to his seasoned peers.

Nonetheless, given his success in countless battles in the state, country, world and even galaxy-wide, he more than qualifies to hold the title of Avenger; it’s official now. A laid-back induction ceremony and his very own identity card: a sturdy rectangle, shiny with full clearance and all. Yet, as an official member, his teammates still treat him like he’s that same goofy, out-of-his-depths sixteen year old.

To be fair, yes, his style of heroism isn’t the most serious. He favors levity in the face of danger, a cheeky flare with smart quips and an infuriating grin. Even after taking a beating from the worst of foes, his demeanor never wavers because in the end, he wins. The villains are slayed and the people are saved, even comforted by the boyishly confident way he works.

But beyond that persona, he has grown into a skilled warrior. On that note, he wants to be regarded as such—at least, to a certain extent. The jokes and teasing, poking fun at his age or the shenanigans he gets himself into, don’t bother him. No, his playful wit handles it with relative ease, and he’s a good sport about it. The only thing that he’d want to see change is some recognition that he isn’t a naïve kid anymore and is fully capable of taking charge when needed.

With his recent acceptance into the gifted pantheon, he’s intent on making that known. The jesting can continue but he wants it to be with an understanding of his capabilities. Luckily, a perfect opportunity has presented itself to showcase his abilities: a training session.

He’s late. And yes, he knows that’s probably not a good impression to make.

In his own defense, it isn’t technically his fault. He forgot that you, his personal alarm clock (amongst other things), left early this morning because you volunteered to help his aunt move. Four years of mornings and nights, he’s gotten used to—and prefers—your languorous wake-up call.

Without your reminder, he regains consciousness fifteen minutes after the scheduled time and ends up scrambling to the compound. In a flurry, he throws on his suit—unknowingly backwards, he realizes later—trips at least three times over his own footing before he finally springs out of the balcony with webbed bursts.

When he reaches his destination, Captain America and the Winter Soldier are unimpressed; mid-simulation, it powers down. Both super-soldiers whirl around to face him, fixing raised eyebrows at his disheveled arrival.

He adjusts his now front-facing suit and shuffles forward into the space with as much confidence as an interrupter can have. “H - hey, guys,” Peter greets sheepishly and manages what he hopes is a charming smile, absentmindedly fidgeting with his phone. “Lookin’ good for a couple of geezers.”

Unfortunately, Steve Rogers is not charmed or disillusioned from the tardiness. “You’re late, Parker.” His arms fold, and he shakes his head when punctuating his disapproval with an echoing, “Again.”

Thankfully, to his right, more relaxed and cool, Bucky Barnes steps up. “C’mon, Stevie. Y’can’t be that surprised,” he chimes in matter of factly, contrasting against his friend with amusement sparkling in his blue eyes. “What’d you expect with Parker?” He gestures at the younger superhero. “Kid’s gonna be late to his own wedding.”

(Beside the point, but worth noting, he will not be late to meeting you at the altar. That is, of course, if you accept when he pops the question. Which is going to happen relatively soon, considering he has the ring in his nightstand drawer.)

The consult seems to relax him. “Yeah, I guess you’re right and—Peter, you—seriously, man?!” Steve sputters the last bit when he glanced over to see him blatantly check the notification that’s vibrated in his hand (on the device that is ruled to be stowed away during training). “Now the phone?!”

Even though he shouldn’t, being on thin ice with Cap and all (pun not intended), Peter’s gaze flickers down to see your contact name appear on the screen, and he can’t resist. While Bucky guffaws a laugh at his audacity, he’s swiping up to pull up your text thread.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:37AM: spider boyyyyy you’ll never guess what i found in a box labeled ‘peter’s junk’ ;;;)

peter, 10:37AM: those magazines are NOT mine and i don’t know how they got there.

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: not quite but close, naughty boy

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: for a man who depends on keeping secrets and a penchant for home movies, you might ought to keep a lock on your phone unless you want someone to see me like this...

> you 😛❤️🥰, 10:38AM: (video attached)

Immediately, he recognizes the pornographic thumbnail. One glance, and he’s remembering the first couple of times you guys explored the exhibitionism side of things. It was at the end of his freshman year of college and taped on a phone he thought he had lost. But he must've forgotten it at his aunt’s house, and she tossed it in the box until you came along.

Although there’s been plenty more made, he recalls that one being a shared favorite, his especially. When long-distance duty calls, it was his go-to media. The angles, your face and body beneath the lights, the sounds it caught, you once asked if he considered switching to cinematography instead of photographer

Subconsciously, his teeth run over his bottom lip, feeling that blazing spark of desire igniting in the pit of his gut, partially at the memory and partially at what’ll happen once you guys can re-watch it together; his thumbs start typing away with that message.

“Peter!” Steve’s exasperated voice snaps, but to no avail—the real gall of the youngster, or the effect of you. His weight shifts toward his best friend, and he nudges him with his elbow. “Kids these days!” The hundred-something year old’s gaze cocks a brow back over. “Is that why you were late? Blowing off training to text your girlfriend?”

The text delivers with an audible bloop. Finally, his concentration gives, and he can look up, though his expression is clueless from the last minute. “Huh?” His brain registers what he missed, and he winces. “Sorry, Cap. My bad.”

Bucky chuckles. “Give him a break, Steve,” he faux comes to his defense, a teasing quality underlying his tone. “He’s young and in love. It’s not his fault he’s pussy-whipped.” He cracks him an antagonizing grin as Peter rolls his eyes. “He can’t go an hour without sending those little weird pictures with heart eyes, or she might not know he’s thinking about her.”

“As if you know anything about romance, old man,” he fires back and presses past them with squared shoulders, correcting him quite seriously: “And they’re called emojis, by the way. But that’s not what I was doing, if you want to know so bad.”

The brunette tilts his head thoughtfully, and small hackles arise for reasons he doesn’t understand, or pay attention to. “You know, I do want to know really badly,” Bucky decides and poses a question to his left, “Wouldn’t you, too, Steve? Aren’t you curious what his girlfriend sent that was so much more important than training?”

The blond mimics his actions and clicks his tongue. “Yeah, I am.”

Peter’s eyebrows pinch while his skin tingles and the hair on the back of his neck stands straight up. “What—” Before his senses process it, one of the super-soldiers plucks his phone out of his hands and darts back beside his best friend. His jaw drops as he tries to follow after him. “Bucky, you asshole—”

“Some spidey senses, huh?” The Winter Soldier lifts it high over his head, utilizing his six-foot stature against his five-ten like elementary school bullies do and older siblings to their juniors. “Haven’t ‘cha heard about sharing with the class?” He laughs and practically stiff-arms him to squint up at the screen. “Aw, he can’t wait to see her. What’s it been, more than two hours since you two saw each other last?”

Conceding to the height difference, Peter stops his physical efforts and diverts it to someone reasonable. “Cap, you gonna help me out here?” he addresses the entertained onlooker in the most friendly voice he can manage.

“The kid’s got separate anxiety not just from his girlfriend but phone too, Buck,” Steve drawls with a lopsided curve of his lips. He side-steps Peter to stand next to Bucky, and for a second, he thinks he’s on his side despite the tease, but he simply adds a stern, “So be careful. You don’t want to break it, or Parker will have a fit.”

Peter crosses his arms and scowls. “Ha, ha,” he retorts dryly, only somewhat amused by their banter. He tilts his head up at them, and the duo look thoroughly pleased with themselves. “You know, you guys are kind of dicks.”

“No, we’re your mentors, kid,” Steve corrects with a wink and rests his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “This is a lesson. No phones—” He jabs his thumb back in reference to the device’s unlocked screen: “—when you’re supposed to be training.”

“Yeah,” Bucky chimes in upon glancing up from his phone. “And a little advice, women don’t like clinginess. Try being a little more stern and see how that works for you. If you’re able to manage that. But I won’t hold it against ya if you can’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter patronizes with a bob of his head, biting back a response pointing out the hundred-something year old’s inexperience. Instead, he focuses on the electronic readily loaded up with some private content. With that, he decides to do the rational and mature thing and ask nicely. “Noted. So, uh, can I have my phone back now?”

To his shock, Bucky merely flashes a smirk and his thumb scrolls half-heartedly over the thread. Thereafter, he leans toward Steve and raises his cell for him to see. “Oh, look, it’s a video,” he teases. “What could Y/N send that would take priority of training?”

There’s an unspoken let’s see then a metal finger taps the play button. Before Peter can think, much less react, Captain American and the Winter Soldier are watching how he effortlessly renders his pretty little girlfriend into a cute nonsensical yet eager mess—

In his point-of-view shot, the ratio holds in portrait view in a bid to capture every bit of you. Above you, the camera focuses on you and your beautifully debauched state beneath warm lighting where it’s unalienable that the camera was made for you.

Your eyes are dilated brightly, desperate with desire as your lashes flutter up at him. A sheen coats your features and glistens like glitter at the highest points of your face while the shape of your face is framed by your stretched arms.

Your wrists are bound over your head, splotched with expertly sprayed strong, white webs. The mesh sticks them together in a criss-cross, comfortable but nearly impossible to break out of, fixed in place atop his headboard. The tautness tugs a mild strain on your figure so your breasts are jutting out like an offering, and it’s obvious he’s taken advantage of it. Darkened marks adorn your glowing complexion, peppered across your décolletage with imprints of his teeth; including your nipples, sucked swollen and tender.

The angle trails down until it reveals the sight of him mercilessly pounding inside of you. His better-than-average girth is sliding in and out of your tight channel; slicked in shared translucent essence, creaming around the base, your inner walls visibly clinging to his cock with every backward stroke. His hand splays on your mound, using his thumb to abuse your engorged clit. He easily keeps the sensitive nub pinned under his control despite your wildly twisting hips.

Like the display, the soundtrack is equally obscene. Loud, your stuffed depths gush and squelch as skin slaps rhythmically. Your breathy, wanton moans overshadow both, drawn out whimpers, almost nonsensical other than the syllable of his name. A melody of neediness, you sound so fucking pretty, (depraved, like a whore, you once told him during your little film marathon with a sly smile), and for him specifically.

The frame pans upward and confirms you look just as good. A perfect mess, unhinged by the skilled ministrations of your boyfriend. Passion beads on your forehead like reflections off of a diamond. Panting, your lips are plumped from kissing parted with mewls of pleasure.

“P - please—I need to—can I - I please—” You’re begging like the sweet little thing you are, incoherent babbling the result of his excessive edging. Of course, you know better than to give into the sensations ravaging you; instead you ignore your visceral desire and ask him for your release. “Peter, please!”

A deep chuckle vibrates behind the camera as his big hand slides into view, trailing over your jiggling tits to the slope of your throat. “Maybe,” he says breathily and grasps the line of your jaw between his fingers. “Open your mouth first, babe.”

No more preamble necessary, you follow his direction, your pink tongue flat over your Cupid’s bow. Immediately, a long string of his saliva drips into view and onto your taste buds; the vulgar act is accepted with a swallow and a quivering moan of, “T - thank you.”

“Good girl,” he praises huskily, and the voiced approval has you visibly shivering. “Alright, then, pretty girl. Make it good for me, and c’mon—”

Before your otherworldly reckoning washes over you and his teammates can watch your bliss immortalized in film, Peter snatches his property back.

Not much force is necessary as Bucky’s grip has been stunned loose. A dark expression permeates on young hero’s face but not because of embarrassment; if he was still nineteen or eighteen, he would’ve been mortified that his titular superiors caught a depraved glimpse of his sex life, on both his and your behalf. Rather than, there’s just a flit of annoyance when he folds his arms.

“Shit,” Bucky is the first to speak, exhaling the swear raggedly. His blue pupils have widened in obvious attraction, dilated dark, blinking rapidly as if it’ll help calm him down from the clip of you, his innocent seeming girlfriend, all ruined and begging. “Parker, fuck, I - I didn’t know you got down like that.”

There’s a swell in his chest, pride beating steadily while he remains reticent-faced. He prefers you keep your bedroom activities secluded there. Yeah, he likes to be in control and you like to be controlled but it’s only in a sexual nature. Yet, their reactions—stunned, embarrassed and viscerally affected—surges smug satisfaction he’s never known before through his veins.

Even the prestigious Captain America is bothered, though he may try to hide it. He clears his throat, a flustered pink coloring his cheeks. “Peter, uh,” he says, barely maintaining the confidence to look him in the eye after witnessing his girlfriend like that. “We - we shouldn’t have invaded your privacy like that.”

“Uh-huh,” is Peter’s response, a hint of a smirk curling on one side of his lips. “Why don’t you guys call me after you’re finished with your cold showers, and we can actually train. Until then, I’m gonna go to my girl who’s more than eager to handle mine.” He pauses. “Maybe if you guys ask nice enough, I might let her show you how well I’ve trained her.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #marvel smut imagines #spiderman x reader smut #marvel smut #heh I am going to pass out #I..#goodnight im off me ass sjdjjsxj

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koris-crumbs · 4 years ago

Text

Tea With The Todorokis:

A Todokami/Dabihawks story

Suggested by @camys1984

‘I have a todokami hc that's like, shouto and touya have sibling bonding time talking bout the energetic blonds they like, while neither the league or 1A knows.’

A/N: Sorry for taking so long with this request! I’ve been pretty busy the past couple weeks. Feel free to make more requests on this post, or go back to the original one!

Warnings: Cursing

It was cold. Even with half of his body feeling like it was practically on fire (which it was), Shoto still somehow felt cold. It made sense why, it was the end of November and it had been raining for the past couple days. Not cold enough for snow, but not warm enough for sun. Well...it was nighttime at the moment, but you get the picture. Now, you might be wondering what the hell Shoto was doing walking down the streets of Musutafu at eight ‘o clock at night, by himself, in the cold. The flickering light that came from the few streetlights was the only thing illuminating Shotos path, the streets empty as most people were waiting out the cruddy weather in their own homes. Probably everybody except for Todoroki.

To get to the main point, Shoto didn’t even want to be out here in the first place. The only reason he was out here is mainly because it would help him clear his mind, he had a lot of thoughts streaming in and out of his head...some of them more intrusive then others. You see, a certain electric blonde had managed to be occupying all the space in his brain. Yup, that electric blonde being the one and only Denki Kaminari. Shoto hadn’t even realized how it happened, hadn’t even taken notice of the times when he was staring long-fully across the classroom or the dorms at Denki. Brushed off the times when he found his mind drifting to thoughts of the bubbly, loud giggle of the human pikachu look-a-like. He had pushed his actual feelings down so much, that when he finally realized they might be a little less platonic then he originally thought, his brain just froze. Along with his entire right side.

Once he was aware of how he really felt for his extroverted and outspoken classmate, he didn’t know how to act around Kaminari anymore. It’s not like he was super close with the boy, at least he didn’t think so..? Denki usually just teased him the same amount he teased everybody else. Except for his friends that were dubbed the ‘Bakusquad’. That got Shoto thinking even harder about the subject. Was Kaminari...romantically involved with anyone? Kirishima? Sero? Hell, even Bakugo would make more sense than him getting with Shoto of all people. A dark feeling started boiling up from deep inside of Todoroki. He didn’t realize what it was at first, but then recognized it as the feeling of jealousy. It wasn’t something Shoto felt a lot, and it definitely wasn’t something he wanted to feel all the time. It made him feel...bad. Not that he hasn’t ever felt bad before. He definitely has. But, this was a different kind of bad. Jealousy was a different kind of bad...

“Something on your mind, little brother?” A deep, gravelly voice grumbled out from behind one of the nearby Japanese Maple trees. Oh. Right. There was another reason he had ventured out of the dorms this late at night. And that reason had been because of his hot-headed older brother. Touya Todoroki. Or as most of the world knew him, Dabi. To make a long story short, Touya had faked his death, lied to the entire family and had the world believing he was deceased. Going by the alias Dabi, and ‘becoming a villain’, although he knew better. The whole world believed it except for a chosen few who knew the truth. Those being Shoto, obviously, and the number two hero, Hawks. The only reason Hawks knows is because him and Shoto’s brother had gotten rather...close recently. Touya hasn’t clarified if they were romantic with each other, but it was clear that they were involved. Todoroki didn’t really feel the needy to ask about it, and really didn’t want to hear his own flesh and blood talk about how...intimate him and Hawks got. Shoto had learned enough about Touya to know that he wouldn’t hesitate in going into extreme detail about those sorts of things...

“You’ve been quiet for a while, so I’m gonna take that as a yes.” He drawled sarcastically. Pushing himself off of the tree from his position where he had been leaning against it. He shuffled up next to the heterochromic-colored eyed boy, bumping Shoto’s arm with his. The younger brother knew he had flinched, it was still weird to think that the guy who had literally kidnapped one of his best friends only a few months ago, had secretly been his brother and wasn’t even a villain technically. More like a vigilante if anything. Todoroki wasn’t gonna sugarcoat it, he knew him and his brother needed to discuss a lot more than the shit they had briefly touched on before. Shoto definitely had mixed feelings about his brother right now, but he couldn’t touch on them at the moment. Since Touya has decided teasing Shoto was his new favorite past time.

“Or...perhaps a someone-?”

“Oh shut it.” Todoroki immediately shut down Touyas jab at him. Which made the black haired males eyes gleam curiously and mischievously. A grin spreading across his face, which caused his scar to stretch in a way that made my skin crawl. Although I couldn’t really say much either.

“Oh-ho-ho, you definitely are. So, who is it? Midoriya? Bakugo? Maybe Yaoyorozu-?”

“Shut. Up.” Shoto hissed. Elbowing his older brother in the ribs. He had to admit, this was...nice. Most of Shotos family didn’t really know how to take jokes, to be fair neither did Shoto, but Touya was different. Fuyumi always treated him as a fragile little boy who would break if she said the wrong thing to him. Natsuo was hardly ever home, and the conversations they had on the phone were more like, ‘so how has school been? How’s the weather there? Etc, etc.’ they couldn’t do any joking with each other. Dad was...well, dad. And mom and him still hadn’t really gotten to that level of familiarity quite yet. Touya was the only one who he could talk to like this...the only one who would understand. Even if he wasn’t a hero, hell, he could hardly even be considered good...Shoto understood Touya. And Touya could understand him without either of them having to exchange words. So maybe...maybe he would understand this feeling that Shoto has been feeling more recently. He has experience right? With Hawks?

...It was better than asking dad.

“Touya..?” Shoto started, shoving his hands in his pockets as the two started walking side by side once again. Their shoes scraping against the concrete roughly as the two of them were dragging their feet, probably both needing to talk about something. Todoroki could physically feel his brother bristle up a bit at the usage of his real name. Being called by his fake name this entire time, it made sense why.

“What.” He responded dully. Almost as if he was bored of this conversation already. Shoto briefly wondered again if this was a bad idea. If his brother was going to be a dick about this...was it really worth it? “Spit it out, Shoto.” Touya piped up again, snapping his younger brother out of his thoughts. Shoto hesitated for another moment or so before taking a deep breath, and beginning to spill his thoughts.

“Is it normal...to feel attracted to someone you hardly know..?” Shoto asked softly, his voice barely a whisper. He didn’t like how his brother was quiet for more than a minute, it definitely didn’t calm the growing pit in his stomach. If he really had feelings for Kaminari, and Touya didn’t have anything to offer him, he was gonna be completely lost on how to make a move.

“Yeah. Attraction is totally normal. If the person looks good especially. This doesn’t seem like that though...this seems more involved. You’re romantically interested in someone it seems like...you have feelings for em.” Touya explained with a small grin on his face, staring ahead at the road in front of them. Shoto was surprised his brother had actually given him a decent word of advice. As he thought about what he had said for a bit longer, Shoto realized Touya was right. His feelings for Denki hadn’t been just a little, ‘oh he looks good’, he was attracted to the electric blondes personality. Some saw it as annoying, Shoto found it endearing. Some found Denkis constant flirting a nuisance, while Shoto wished the other male would flirt with him instead of everybody else. Huh.

Oh fuck...he had feelings for Denki fucking Kaminari...

“...Ah, okay...” Shoto awkwardly mumbled in response to his brother giving him a questioning look. He had probably been silent for too long again...he should change the subject, quick, quick. “So, I’m assuming you’ve experienced this before..?” Shoto asked quietly. Yes, he had an idea of who it was that his brother was involved with, but he just wanted to make sure he had it right and wasn’t thinking about things too much. Flashbacks of when he accused Midoriya of being All Mights secret love child flashed through his brain...which in his defense kind of made sense, but still.

“Well yeah, no shit. You think I would tell the number two hero who I actually was if I wasn’t involved with them in some way?” Touya snapped back sarcastically. The older male crossing his arms, which let Shoto get a better view of the rest of the burns and scars that were occupying Touyas arms. Snapping his gaze back forward, he thought about what his brother had just revealed. He knew there was a pretty good chance Touya had been romantically connected with the hero, but hearing it come straight from the others mouth was a whole different thing. “...He’s honestly my lifeline, Sho. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I hadn’t met him when I did...the League isn’t exactly a friendly environment to sit down and talk about how you miss your family and don’t really wanna be doing that kind of shit anymore just for kicks...” Touya continued. And Shoto listened intently. Happy that him and his brother were finally discussing something. It seemed like that was all Touya had the guts to share though, since he stopped talking soon after that. Shoto was also silent for a few moments, before finally speaking up again.

“Well, Hawks is a good person to be around. He annoys the hell out of dad as well, that’s a plus.” The half and half male attempted to joke. Only earning a slight chuckle from his older brother, before the two fell back into their awkward silence. God, this felt so weird...at the same time though, it felt familiar. Like they were just normal siblings talking about their crushes to each other. Shoto knew that Touya only focused on most of the ‘stronger’ people in his class. Bakugo, Midoriya, Tokoyami, etc...so he may not know who Kaminari was...it was fine to drop at least a couple hints...right? “...The guy I like is really loud, can be considered annoying, but he’s really sweet. And determined. He thinks he’s weak and is always striving to get better, but he’s already gotten so strong. It’s amazing how much potential he has, he just needs to realize that.” Shoto ranted. Running his hand through his multicolored hair. He couldn’t read the look on Touyas face from this angle, but he could definitely make out the slight upturn in his lips and the slight huff of laughter that escaped from his brothers mouth.

“Sounds like this guy is pretty great. But, he doesn’t sound like any of the little bitches I’ve met before in your class.” “Don’t call them that. And, that’s because you haven’t met him. And, I swear to god Touya if you go seek him out purposely and do the whole ‘older brother interrogation’ thing I’m never visiting you again.” Shoto growled in a low, warning tone. Touya raised his hands up in a surrendering sort of gesture. Shaking his head in response as he snorted.

“Calm down, I wasn’t planning on it. I’m definitely not risking getting caught right now.” Touya said in response to Shoto getting defensive. To which the younger of the two seemed to relax a bit more, quieting down and focusing his gaze onto the ground. He could practically feel Touyas icy turquoise eyes staring a hole into him, almost as if he was studying him. To which Shoto merely raised his eyebrow in response, giving his older brother a questioning look. That caused Touya to chuckle a bit, and quickly gaze back upon the road instead of at Shoto. “All I’m saying is, you sound really sure about this guy. If you really do feel that way about it, then you should do something about it.” “But-“ “Don’t give me the ‘I don’t know how to talk to people excuse’. If I can get a boyfriend of all people, so can you.” Touya said, and for once in his life, Shoto heard absolutely no hesitation in his voice. He was serious about this. And, as Shoto looked over to see his brother, he was met with Touya staring right back at him, a small smile and a sincere look in his eyes. Only having to receive a small nod from Touya, Shoto felt the corners of his lips quirk upwards.

“Fine, maybe I will.”

#bnha #dabihawks #todokami #todoroki shōto #dabi is a todoroki #todoroki brothers #touya todoroki

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whereflowersbloom · 4 years ago

Text

Little boost

It had been a hectic day, working on some detailed written reports Batman asked him to investigate and patrolling with Nightwing, Damian was exhausted, more than usual, he could use a strong drink. There were certain things he had to think about, things he had pushed To the back of his mind while working, but there was a constant mental reminder that they were still there, which is exactly why Damian found himself sitting next to a slightly squiffy Dick Grayson, at the rooftop, looking at the stars and passing back a small bottle full of liquid that burned in the right way from his hair to his toenails. The relief his body demanded after a long stressful day. He thought about the bothersome hangover and the way his head would throb the next day as he took his second sip but he shrugged it off. It was nothing he couldn’t handle. Brother bonding, they had been intensely busy to have a casual brother-to-brother chat, out of all his siblings he felt the most comfortable with Grayson. He was lost in deep thoughts when his brother caught him off guard with a question.

“Have you discussed your feelings and intentions with Raven?” There it was the question he was dreading to answer. He had asked himself when he would finally muster the courage to speak with her about these new emotions surging inside him.

Damian’s heart jumped just enough at the mention of her name, nonetheless his familiar unreadable expression didn’t change. After another sip of the drink he felt loose enough that he didn’t hold back the low heartfelt groan, even as his sensibilities reminded him that he didn’t have anything to groan about. He hadn’t made his intentions clear after all this time. A part of him wondered how Dick might know he had feelings for Rave at all, as if the amber and intoxicating liquor was some kind of truth serum that made everything plain as day. Perhaps he had underestimated Grayson’s observation skills, his father trained him after all. He wasn’t Batman’s first son and right hand for nothing.

“She’s an essential component of our team.” Damian muttered lowering his voice as if to make himself sound as sober as possible and convincing. “The Titans wouldn’t be the Titans without her.”

“That’s certainly true, but also...” the older man nodded in agreement and took a mouthful of the amber drink. “I have noticed you two complement each other well, both in battle and out…” Richard gave Damian a playful feline smirk. He didn’t want to pry, he was only concerned for his brother’s unresolved romantic involvement, he can practically feel Damian’s hostile glare on him, studying his intentions silently. Anyone would understand what he was referring to. So he noticed Damian concluded. Richard didn’t ask to gossip with his other siblings about his personal affairs, he knew it. Maybe it was time to trust Grayson. He certainly had earned it after all those years working side by side.

“It’s not what you think, rather complicated.” Damian said quietly into his drink, and though his eyes are elsewhere, he knew Dick was listening to him as a friend and brother. It was something he’d been trying to avoid thinking about, with no help from the dark-haired man sitting to his right. They had something, Dick was absolutely right. And even when Damian had tried to keep his distance at first, the pull to Raven magnetic and frustrating as hell. Unstoppable. He had no control over it. But what was holding him back? The uncertainty? “We’re simply friends, I think.” It wasn’t a lie. Friends who wanted to engaged in rather intimates activities and explore boundaries.

“Teammates.” Grayson whispered remarking the word. Knowing well Damian’s aversion towards it.

“Exactly. Not any different than how I stand with you or any of the other team members.” Damian said with a tint of bitterness gracing his voice. He didn’t have to explain himself to anyone. Not Grayson or his father. His relationship with other teammates could be described as civilized. He cared for them. They were his family too.

“And yet you are intimate with Raven in ways that you aren’t with your other teammates.” A teasing expression crosses his face. Now Grayson had the guts to mess with him. His eyebrows furrowed at the comment, naturally making thin lines appear on his forehead.

“It’s intellectual compatibility, Grayson. We are teammates who have similar interest in common.” Damian remarked with hot anger. He considered taking his frustrations out on his brother. He wanted to punch someone, maybe Dick or Jason. He visualized the face of Conner Kent though, who had touched Raven unnecessarily too many times today with his filthy hands. His green eyes narrowed.

“If you hold no claim over Raven, surely you are both able to enjoy the company of others. So to say if Conner wanted to spend some time with her, it wouldn’t bother you. Right?” Richard commented taking another sip of the raw drink. His humorous blue eyes watching Damian’s reaction attentively, the man next to him was his family, his brother, he only wanted the best for him. For fuck’s sake, it was pretty obvious they had a thing going on. Deliberately Provoking him would have the reaction he expected. He just had to mention Conner or Garfield and voila his stubborn little brother would get himself a girlfriend. His job as older brother was to meddle in his ‘personal affairs’. O,us, Damian could use a little push to take the next step.

He thought about it for a whole minute, considered the suggestion Richard made that Raven was available to have a romantic or physical relationship with anyone. Looking into Dick’s ocean eyes, he knew that Dick was so clearly baiting him. Because, of course, Richard was absolutely right. The idea of Raven with anyone else made his blood boil but if they were just friends who were close, friends who were evidently physically attracted to each other but didn’t speak about their attraction or romantic interest, he had no right to demand exclusivity. Deny her the possibility to see someone else. It irritated him. He was her ‘friend’ but who was to say that she couldn’t be close with anyone else, for instance Conner. Tsk. Over his dead body. Not Kent or anyone else. He was irrevocably doomed. What the hell was happening to him? He didn’t want to push Raven asking for more, fearing her answer would dig up the ghosts of his past pains that he’s worked so hard to bury. His mother’s betrayal and he was Ra’s Al Ghul grandson. Did he even have the right?

“Just friends.” Damian repeated with displeasure at the term that defined his relationship with the young woman he loved? Did he love Raven? What did he know about love? It wasn’t a exact science, he could read thousands of books and they wouldn’t give him the answer he was searching for. Just had to look at his own Father, involved with a criminal, on and off. Didn’t have to bring up his mother. The answer lies in your heart, it was as If the cold east wind whistled those words. He didn’t want to see Raven with anyone other man, it made his insides turn and his jaw clench involuntary. He wanted her for himself only. And waves of clarity seem to crash down on him, slowly dissipating the feelings of confusion and helplessness that he’s been plagued with ever since he discovered he had strong feelings for Raven. People used to say that love is like wildflowers, it grows everywhere even through the debris, truthfully he didn’t understand it at first, at the image of Raven’s face clear as a painting in his mind, as the countless hours he has spent drawing her alluring features, he finally understood what they meant by that. That smile, her smile. She had bewitched him.

“Does repeating it enough times make it so?” Dick asked arching a brow at him with a sly smile curving his lips.

“Fuck you, Grayson.” Damian uttered annoyed at his older brother, for being foolish and falling right in his trap. Probably it was the alcohol talking but Dick could take it, Dick’s response was a open throaty chuckle. He wouldn’t admit he was thankful out loud though. Damian smiled instinctively. “Thank you for the overly emotional conversation about my romantic affair.” He mentioned to his brother, looking at him straight in the eye. His eyes silently whispering a ‘thank you, brother.’ He had enough alcohol doe the night and with the first ray of sunlight he was waking up for training. He couldn’t help but imagine it, waking him next to her, soft sheets and even softer skin, inhaling that characteristic lavender smell first with the sunrise. And here he was wasting precious time, getting drunk with Grayson. He shook his head before getting up slowly and marching towards the door of the Titans building.

“Where are you going?” Dick asked curiously, suddenly intrigued what his little brother would do about this situation. At this point he knew how to handle Damian and make him see what he refused to acknowledge. Damian was incredibly smart for his age but at times too obstinate. This required of his assistance. He was growing up fast, too fast for his liking. The snarky, short-tempered kid Bruce brought years ago, was long gone. Richard Grayson thinks it is indeed a privilege to be Damian’s brother and mentor. He was tremendously proud of his younger brother. His job was done and he smiled broadly.

“Hopefully it’s not too late to discuss my emotions and intentions towards a certain lady.” Damian flashed him a confident smirk, only barely aware that he might have slurred the last words, effects of the alcohol no doubt. It wasn’t too late for him, walked a bit unsteadily towards the door, his destination the room of his soon to be girlfriend he hoped. He had to speak with her. This was his last chance. He waved goodnight to Dick before disappearing in the darkness of the night, leaving a pleased Richard drinking on the rooftop alone.

Undoubtedly they would have fun explaining to Batman how his biological son was romantically involved with a half-demon. Dick decided that conversation could wait a few weeks...perhaps months.

Have there a brother bonding moment 💜💜💜💜

@audieoddity @niahti @chromium7sky @deep-in-mind67

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kg2hub · 4 years ago

Text

so let’s talk about the kindergarten amino.

there are issues we need to address like grown ups, which some certain people refuse to do.

i’m not gonna lie, i avoided getting amino for the longest time because i am aware of how much of a festering cesspool of toxicity it is there. it’s terrifying, how shitty people can be on there honestly. the community? garbage. absolute garbage, and despite not having an account there i personally know my friends have been affected by the utter bullshit that goes on in there.

sure, i know many of the wonderful creators there, good friends who mean the world to me, and amazing talented mutuals of mine spanning multiple social media platforms who are on the amino as well. good people exist. but so do the bad ones, and it seems on amino specifically, the bad people are more prevalent there.

it’s kind of really stupid, how much of a horrible place that app is, and yet the kindergarten communities i’ve personally witnessed on tumblr, discord, instagram-- are so much kinder, supportive and not at all what a certain mod team describes.

how curious! it’s almost as if the behaviour you allow freely in a community breeds likeminded people in that community! :) mindblowing, isn’t it?

on that topic. the kindergarten amino mods.

according to the oxford dictionary1, a moderator is defined as being 1. a person whose job is to help people or groups who disagree to reach an agreement ; 4. a person who is responsible for preventing offensive material from being published on a website.

notice how none of these definitions say anything about uhhhhh “talking like a simp” lmao?

like what they said to a friend of mine who asked why she didn’t get the mod position she applied for and when she asked what was “wrong” with the way she spoke to people when they answered her, case in point:

under the cut, here are the requirements for how a kga mod is supposedly obligated to speak to people, straight from the mod team themselves (and how the above and below are incredibly unfitting for someone supposedly in a moderator’s position):

the above images are the message that came before the first screenshot from the convo from my friend shown above the cut. now, let me point out the issues with this list. the 1st definition of “moderator” portrays a mod as helping two parties reach an agreement with one another after an argument. the 4th definition of “moderator” is someone who is responsible for preventing offensive material from being published on a website (in this case, app)

“talk casual” is not applicable to these definitions. this has little to no relation to how a mod may mediate a situation, but there are a few conceivable pros and cons.

pros: both parties in an argument may find them easier to talk to, and might understand each other’s points better when explained in terms that come off as relaxed and not like a serious adult wagging their finger at a child.

cons: the exact opposite might happen due to the fact they will sound less professional and may be taken less seriously, and there is no guaranteed way the two parties in question will interpret the mod’s efforts in either a good or bad way.

in conclusion, speaking casually to someone as a mod is not important nor does it affect how the actual act of moderation occurs. “speak respectfully” is the phrase you’re looking for, kga mods. it doesn’t matter how formal or casual you are, as long as you’re not straight up being a dick to anyone.

“try to make negatives sound neutral” is, in other words, deliberately wording a situation to avoid taking one specific side of an argument. --the issue with this, is that there are some situations that are rooted in facts, and you cannot change a negative fact to “make it sound neutral” because it exists in reality as a negative fact no matter what you think or how you try to convince yourself otherwise. there are cases where one person is wrong and one person is right, and that is the end of that. there are cases where it doesn’t matter what the user’s intent behind their actions were; well-meaning or not, if they did something wrong, they did something wrong. tell them what they did wrong, issue a warning, let them apologize and move on if they won’t do it again. if they’re a repeat offender, take the appropriate actions for the situation and deal with it responsibly as the person in the authoritative position. end of story.

there are differences between petty arguments (eg. who is the “best” character), and serious matters that should be dealt in a serious way (eg. art theft, rape jokes, bullying). nothing in this world is completely black and white, but there is a clear difference between what will harm a person, and what will not; what is good for the sake of a community, and what isn’t. and frankly, if you think you can dispute that and take a neutral side on urgent issues anyway, you are incredibly mistaken.

this can be a tactic used for de-escalation, absolutely, and for making sure you aren’t inserting your personal opinions into the argument by looking at it from an objective point of view. but it is not fit for every situation, and the fact that it’s listed as “one of the ways a mod is supposed to talk to people” puts it in a checklist for the “standard” of how they should speak, which therefore implies that a mod needs to “try” to use it in every situation possible. instead of, you know, judging the situation and reacting accordingly rather than going a roundabout way that doesn’t go straight to solving the actual issue between users. i would count that specific point as bad wording on their part, but my point for all of this still stands regardless.

“be patient” does play an important part of handling arguments between two people, i will agree with that. it’s advisable to be the calm, rational one when dealing with two people whose emotions are influencing them to only see their side and no one else’s. that’s only assuming the situation isn’t as serious as other ones may be, however, and that there are multiple sides to the argument at all.

of course this isn’t the case for other things that are much worse, and if we recall the 4th definition of a moderator in modern, internet-associated terms, it is the mod’s duty to prevent offensive, harmful material from being posted on a website. not everything can be solved with patience and talking things out when someone is breaking the rules. a moderator also needs to be able to put their foot down when needed, and take action especially in the case that the mod isn’t actually being listened to.

as a person being confronted by a mod, it’s easy to say you agree and won’t do it again but you’ll just do it again anyway. which is why punishment, repercussions, consequences (banning, reporting, etc) are put in place to prevent these things from happening. relying only on talking things out cannot and will not stop people from doing what they want, if they don’t listen and have no desire to change for the better.

“try to make your users comfortable while talking to you” is not applicable in every situation either. of course it’s important to ensure you are respected as a mod, and that you are respectful towards other people as well. it’s nice to have a friendly disposition when talking to people, so they aren’t intimidated or scared of you, or think you’re stuck up or unlikable or mean and whatever else.

but in the end, it doesn’t really matter what everyone thinks of you, whether you’re a mod or not. not everyone will like you at any given point, ever. that’s just a fact of life. what matters as a mod, is doing your job properly. the way others see you is a factor in it, sure, but as a mod you will always inherently be someone who some others are a little jumpy when talking to you. but most people also don’t have any reason to be uncomfortable if they aren’t doing anything wrong in the first place. if they’re hurting people and being toxic, it doesn’t matter how comfortable they are when talking to you.

in addition, it’s possible to be amicable while also being firm and direct about moderation work. and it is also possible to separate how you speak in a friendly conversation with someone, compared to speaking to someone who has seriously messed up and broken the rules.

“smiley face trademarked” this straight up has nothing to do with being a mod. it’s just a typing quirk. it’s not important to what makes someone a mod. it also is typically used for passive aggressiveness so. if the kga staff wants to come off to their community that way, i am not fishing out the one (1) radioactive shoe in the sewers that is the kindergarten amino. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“de-escalate situations or try to stay calm” does fit exactly with what i was talking about earlier. this is the 1st definition of moderators, and essentially is part of their job. i legitimately don’t have objections to this, that haven’t already been said, because it is a mod’s job to keep the peace between the people in an online community.

this message came after the list they provided, before the screenshot of my friend asking if her not sugarcoating things was the issue. for context, she had challenged their authority before this instance, and critiqued the way the mods would usually handle situations. in that, they don’t actually handle the situation and would opt for “being a simp” rather than solving the issue. (keeping this in mind, it’s hard not to suspect they rejected her because of past hostility against her for speaking her mind before this.)

it’s not hard to change the way you speak according to the situation. you don’t talk to the principal (or your boss if you’re older), the same way you would talk to your best friend, or the way you would talk to a sibling, and you don’t speak to a stranger on the street, or significant other in any of those ways too.

it doesn’t matter how she spoke when she critiqued the mods. the way she spoke for that occasion was appropriate for the topic, and does not in any way correlate or give any indication to how she would speak to a general person if she was in a mod position.

it doesn’t matter about how “relatable” you are as a mod either. that has nothing to do with moderation and does not make you do your job any better or any less than someone who “isn’t relatable” whatever the fuck that means.

a teacher can be relatable all they want, but they can and will get booted from their job if they’re, y’know, not actually doing their job; aka teaching. a teacher can teach without being engaging in any way for the students at all, and that arguably isn’t good either, but the difference is, as much as the students may not like it, that’s not a requirement for their job, hence why a teacher would not get fired for being boring but still getting information through to their students, but a teacher would get fired for not teaching no matter how fun, relatable, or friendly they are.

the power a mod has is supposed to be used to moderate, while “being relatable” is not needed, even though it can be beneficial, to actually do your job properly.

ah yes, this screenshot again. urban dictionary’s 1st definition of “simp” is: Someone who will say anything to please someone, particularly a girl, in the hopes that they will be in good favor with that person.

and that really speaks for itself why simps are unfit to be in a moderator position. essentially, they are suck ups. fakes. they will, by this definition, say anything to win the good graces of other people, to win approval, and make people like them. --and as i mentioned before, this is not the job of a mod in any way, shape or form.

it is not beneficial for a mod to suck up to someone who is breaking the rules and hurting others. it doesn’t matter what the community’s opinion is of how likable a mod is; the mod is the person in a position of power, and it is their job to make sure no one is breaking the rules or posting anything harmful to others or to the community. that has nothing to do with popularity contests.

and, this shows how these mods handle situations if they “talk like a simp” to the perpetrators. it’s a substantial reason why this mod team doesn’t actually get their work done if this is the way they speak to people. to talk in this manner means they are not really telling the perpetrators what they’re doing wrong and trying to get them to stop, but are rather encouraging and enabling them to keep doing terrible things because of the fact that “it will please them, and that person will think good of the mods”

--another point i should talk about, is the “we have to be kind and try to understand” part of what they said.

according to one of my friends, some people in the kga mod team are over 18?? i don’t know if this is true, and i don’t really care. but if it is, maybe fucking act like it lmao. if you really are adults-- even some young teenagers already know this-- but you should already know it is completely possible to be kind and polite to someone while disagreeing with them and telling them they are wrong and what they did is wrong.

it’s word choice. there is a deliberate difference between choosing to type “wow you’re so stupid, don’t you know you’re not allowed to post this? delete it, dipshit” and “hey there! this post doesn’t fit the posting guidelines, so please take this down. thanks!”

there’s also a neat little thing where a person can understand why a person did something and the reasons why they think something is right, looking at an opinion that is not their own and the contexts for why other people may think that way-- but still realize that it’s fundamentally wrong and they shouldn’t do that anyway! it’s called critical thinking. it comes with the experience of growing up, which, doesn’t necessarily correlate to how old a person is.

so even if the mods are adults, they have no excuse for not being able to connect saying things in a kind way while also being firm about moderating and doing their job without being a doormat.

we, as adults, are supposed to be the responsible ones when dealing with minors, and mods are the designated responsible ones over every member of an online community by proxy. by now, you should have learned these things. but i will acknowledge that not all people may be mentally capable of thinking and speaking this way as easily as others. and that’s fine and dandy and doesn’t make them a bad person-- but that also means they should not be mods in the first place if they can’t deal with things objectively but respectfully and kind at the same time.

--kinda funny how that screenshot under the simp screenshot practically agrees with that notion, huh!

( plus the fact those under 13 are not allowed to use amino in the first fucking place, yet they allow a fucking 12 year old to join without doing anything about it?? children should not be on that app until they’re old enough. it’s detrimental to them and everyone around them, and unsafe for them especially. i’m pretty sure more than two people are aware of this incident, and the fact the mods did nothing about it? pure incompetence. )

^ she put it pretty well in her own words too.

and now onto this bullshit. i, on the other hand do not personally know these people on the kga mod team, but i do not care for their opinions on me considering i don’t know them and do not care for the amino community-- nor do i have the obligation to suspend my belief on whether they truly are lovely people or not.

they allowed my friends to get hurt, everything i’ve seen from them is incompetence, and frankly, the simp one especially made me actively lose braincells trying to comprehend that any human on this planet thinks that is a legitimate, reasonable response to anyone in any situation. if it was a joke, it is their fault for putting a poorly placed joke in the middle of a serious conversation. if it wasn’t a joke, i really cannot fathom how anyone believes that is an intelligent or beneficial way to talk to people while moderating.

anyway. that response of theirs? that passive aggressive “don’t say thank you when you hate us :)” while disregarding literally everything else my friend said is incredibly childish on the mod’s part. i have legitimate trouble believing anyone but a child is typing these arguments, and i’m not saying this to be mean, but i seriously cannot imagine with every single one of my synapses, that an adult would make such a halfassed “argument” like that.

on the other hand, twitter drama exists. so. perhaps i can believe there are adults who can’t communicate properly.

either way, their true age has no relation to the immature behaviour they show throughout this conversation. child or not, adult or not, they are still being unreasonable and immature and the bottom line is that these people really shouldn’t be mods.

“the next message probably isn’t me so like don’t blame kga staff” that really does not sound like anything but an excuse to say whatever you want without actually owning up to your actions.

a friend when i was 11 would say shitty things to me and then say “omg i’m soooo sorry that wasn’t me, my cousin used my computer!!” and that sounds just like that imo.

i will give the benefit of the doubt for this one assuming multiple mods are using that account(?) but the “don’t blame kga staff” makes zero sense, like my friend says. if someone from your mod team says something, it means you all either agree with it (especially considering it seems you only let people like yourself and not anyone with varied opinions become mods) or you would have to retract the statement as a team and own up to what your actual opinions are. you can have individual opinions as individual mods, but i’m pretty sure that if you say things as the kga staff as a whole, it must be assumed those opinions are at least shared with most if not all members.

there are problems involving the kga staff. of course the entire kga staff will be blamed, no matter who the individual was, for causing problems in the first place.

“abrasive and downright impulsive” buddy, you and your little mod posse have had these issues spanning several months, according to my friends. there’s nothing impulsive about poking the hornet’s nest repeatedly and then getting surprised when you get stung. or in this case, called out with the truth. because the truth isn’t “abrasive”, it’s just real.

consider: you’re being spoken to this way because you won’t listen to literally any other way whenever your inadequacies of being mods has been brought up in the past lmao. being nice obviously hasn’t worked (oh the irony). what else do you expect to happen?

“if everyone despised us and we put no effort into getting a little liked from the community [...]” you said “simp” behaviour was required for all mods. there’s a huge fucking difference between “too nice to mod properly or tell people what they’re doing wrong”, and being well liked and respected while still being competent. again, being liked by everyone is not what makes someone The Best Mod(tm). doesn’t matter if you don’t actually do your job.

“the problems aren’t with the entire staff. so I don’t see the need to blame everyone” this is exactly like saying “this cancer tumor isn’t affecting all of your body so i don’t see the need to remove it before it gets worse”

“the reason we need this more lighthearted [...] and those involved in the problem” again. it is entirely possible to be kind to someone while also dealing with problems in a responsible manner.

yep. as she said, the kga staff is the first one to throw insults at her, not the other way around. and it is incredibly hypocritical of them to talk that way. not very simp-like when you’re directly being called out on the shit you’re doing wrong, huh :)

and you heard it here folks; the kga staff doesn’t care about the opinions and critical feedback of it’s own members! “a bad opinion based on next to nothing” you mean the stuff you sweep under the rug and the shit she’s personally witnessed the whole time she’s been on that amino?

sure, that first mod is not specifically responsible for what the second one said. but you’re both still mods, and whole idea of being a mod is being responsible for others in the first place. and that responsibility includes amongst yourselves. if you don’t know how to police your fellow mods (and on the case if it happened, speak up if another mod is being corrupt), can you really expect anyone to believe you can moderate other people if you don’t know how to check yourselves first?

“you’ve never been a mod. you can’t judge how we do our jobs” that is a shitty argument and always has been since the dawn of time. 99.99% of people have never and will never be president or work in parliament. that doesn’t stop them from criticizing how the government runs things. the majority of an audience have never worked on a movie set before. that doesn’t stop them from saying whether they thought the movie was absolute shit. they don’t have to know how much “hard work” is put into being a mod to judge you. what matters is the outcome, they see the outcome, and will judge you because the outcome directly affects them.

and in both of the above situations, the feedback from the outsiders are incredibly vital and influence the way the government, or the movie directors, make their next move. because if the next move they make is complete nonsensical garbage to everyone else? they’re ruined. they have to listen to everyone else or their reputation, and trust everyone else has for them, will suffer. it’s the exact same thing in an online community where its members create the content, and this is just the way humans function. she, and i, and many others of us who agree with her absolutely can judge the way you do your jobs, and at the same time you have the option of not listening. but that option isn’t always the best option for the sake of the community. these are what people who are actually fit to be mods have to decide, whether they actually want to listen to the people they’re governing, or if they’d rather avoid facing the many, many issues in their community and admitting the fact they fucked up. i’m pretty sure we all know what the kga staff is gonna pick.

you people really shouldn’t have become mods if you’re so sensitive to criticism and can’t handle confrontation. i’m pretty sure the critique you’ve been given was never a personal attack on you as people, but the point of it was, and is, to make you better mods. something which you don’t seem to care about doing.

i’m almost done here.

i have a whole bunch of disclaimers in the event whoever-the-fuck decides to argue with me on all of this. because goddammit i am a tired adult and i don’t give a shit about “mean anons” who are gonna attempt to out-logic my logic because by the end of this post, i will be done here. i will laugh as i delete your asks, on the assumption anyone will actually bother trying to fight me after everything i said. i don’t feel i’ve wasted my time with this post, but i will not waste my time arguing further with some random person on the internet.

i’m 1000% aware that being a mod for this amino is not a serious thing. i don’t care. i know it’s not a job job where you’re getting paid to actually do shit so you don’t really have to do anything at all. which is probably why the amino community sucks so bad. i’m just saying, being in that mod position still means you’re fucking responsible for when people get hurt in your community, and when people post inappropriate shit. it may not matter to you, and it may not matter in your life in the long run, but those experiences matter to someone. and it will always be, in part, your fault because your mod team was responsible for it at the time. if you don’t care? i don’t care that you don’t care. it won’t change the fact you let people get hurt and have no regrets about it. which is even worse.

yes, i wrote all of this out. i typed out this longass fucking essay for a few hours of my life despite that these people are likely never going to read this, or care, or take into consideration anything i said because they clearly can’t handle criticism-- because of the sheer amount of salt i have for these children, these adults, these people who can’t fucking do their jobs right. i haven’t wasted my time typing this, and i don’t care if other people see it that way because i don’t. and unlike some people, i’m not so insecure in myself that i care so much about what other people think. i wanted to do this. i’m happy with this decision. i don’t care that this isn’t a “real issue” or that “i could have done better things with my time” or “wow i’m a loser with no life” sure, thanks. honestly this was a better use of my time than staring at youtube all day. so. what i care about is that real people are affected by the things this excuse for a mod team has been pulling for way too long.

yes, i talked about how it’s easy to be kind while being firm. no, i am not being kind but the difference is that i am fully aware of it because i am making the choice to not put up with this bs. yes i’m some adult on the internet getting riled up that these people are trashy af. because some of the people i do care about are involved. your point?

and if you’re one of those mods on the kga and will not read all of this? i don’t care for your short attention span. mine’s the size of a goldfish’s too, dw. you read it and don’t care about what i have to say? great! here’s an uno reverse card. i do not know the mods or have any desire to know them based on what i do know of them. if they are willing to actually be reasonable, i may change my mind. until then, this criticism still stands.

no, i do not use amino other than the salt account i made today just to see firsthand what things go on there in the first place. i don’t care what happens to that account and have zero plans on posting on it. other than maybe a salt post, maybe. a specific phrase that really stuck as i was browsing was the community being described by one of the mods as an “emo daycare”. like i said way earlier in this post, the behaviour you freely allow is what breeds likeminded people in a community. that means: it’s your own fault that your community consists of mostly horrible, toxic people. if you actually did your work as mods, you wouldn’t have that issue with the people in the first place :)

it is the kindergarten fandom, but that doesn’t mean you all have to act like a bunch of kindergarteners. everything they said about the fandom is completely wrong if you actually look in the right places and, y’know, stop keeping your head in radioactive sand like a fucking ostrich while refusing to look at everything else around you. i am personally friends with so many talented individuals for this fandom, and in my experience this fandom has done nothing but good for me and my overall creativity.

no, of course i’m not above criticism either. unlike some people i am rather open to it and am aware it is important and something everyone needs to deal with in their own lives including me. i just don’t care for petty squabbling. i do have better things to do after this post, after all. i’ve said everything i needed to say, and @ whatever else the people who may disagree think of this? c’est la vie. so. yeah. i’m done here, that was me being pissed off by the sheer lack of braincells i’ve witnessed tonight, gonna draw now, bye.

#come at me i dare you #|| Some Dumb College Kid || OOC.#tw; drama #??#tw #tw; rant #tw; rape mention #|| Smart Class Stuff || Long posts.#long post #tw; swearing #tw; politics mention #/ok to reblog!#|| Brought To You By Applesoft || PSA.#tw; cancer mention

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jinmukangwrites · 4 years ago

Text

The Things Left Behind (3/?)

Ao3: Chapter 1, Chapter Two, This Chapter,

Tumblr: ((chapter 1 and 2 have not been officially posted onto Tumblr))

Work Summary:

"They say fingerprints are made up of an individual's genetic makeup and of the life experiences that individual encounters the more their life progresses."

Bruce looks up from Dick's hand, his fingers rubbing the pads of Dick's fingers and Dick can only stare wide eyed as Bruce let's go of Dick's hand and stands back, arms folded across his chest.

"I suppose, you're living proof of that," Bruce concludes.

Or: It’s not the first time someone in the superhero community has been cloned.

---

When Dick wakes up, he’s almost forgotten that none of this is right. None of it is his. Not his body, not the bed he’s sleeping in, not the name that comes to the forefront of his mind every time he catches himself thinking about it.

When Dick wakes up, he thinks he's Dick. The real Dick. The one that lives and breathes and has done those two things and so much more for 26 years. 17 more than this Dick has.

Or more. The fake Dick doesn't actually know how long it took for his fake body to be grown. What if he was literally born just a few days ago? A mere set of genetic strings floating inside a glass, person sized tube.

When Dick wakes up, he's clutching Zitka like he swears he's always done since he's gotten her. Except, when he opens his eyes and pinches her flat ears between his blank fingertips, he sees that she looks too worn to be the Zitka he remembers. The fabric making up her fur too coarse, pills hanging off her that threaten to create holes if pulled too hard.

Then, he remembers that those memories of Zitka are not his. He remembers the blankets and comforter over his body belong to the guest room. He remembers the borrowed clothes that he doesn't recognize, that look too new to be 17 years old. They're a little big too, like they belong to another boy just a little bigger and a little older.

Siblings. The real Dick mentioned siblings. Like Bruce was his dad.

And suddenly, Dick- the clone, wants to cry again. He wants to cry and hold Zitka until she's soaked in his tears. He wants to ugly sob, he wants to punch something, he wants to tear the curtains from the window and kick the legs of the vanity. He wants his hurt to be physical. He wants to be real.

But he's not real. He's fake, and Bruce only took him home- to the manor because he must feel obligated to.

So instead of standing up and expressing his fear and sorrow and anger, the clone curls up and sobs harder, trying not to think about the only thing he can think of.

What will happen to him now?

Tests maybe. First. To see if they can find clues as to who created him. Then they’ll see if he has any triggers that lead to sleeper agent tendencies. After that, they'll determine what kind of threat he is. If he's deemed worthy like this Kon-El person to try and build a life, or if he’s found too dangerous to be allowed to live freely.

If he is allowed to live and start a new life, he knows Bruce won't want to keep him. He has a Dick Grayson. A Dick Grayson who's all grown up and happy and a big brother and a son.

Something that the clone just can't see himself to ever be… let alone want.

Because, as much as these feelings are not his, they're also compelling. He doesn't want a dad. He had a dad. He doesn't want brothers. He doesn't want sisters. He just wanted a place to live, a table to eat on, and someone to occasionally tell him they are glad he's around.

But he doesn't… want a family.

But those are Dick's feelings. Not his. Yet, somewhere along the way, Dick changed his mind.

He wonders why. What changed? What made Dick decide to abandon Mary and John Grayson like this?

He can't comprehend it.

And Bruce won't want to keep him anyway.

A soft knock on his door pulls him from his spiraling thoughts. He quickly wipes under his eyes with the fabric of the pillowcase then slowly sits up so he's sitting against the headboard. The door doesn't open; the clone wonders that maybe if he remains silent the person on the other side will just go away. However, he soon finds his silent hopes all for naught when once again the door is knocked upon; only this time it’s louder.

The clone doesn't know if he can really deal with anyone at the moment. Maybe Alfred… but Bruce and Dick will just make the tight feeling in his chest tighter. And what if it's one of the siblings?

He doesn't know how he'll react if the door opens and it's a sibling.

He bites his lip when the door knocks once again. A voice accompanies this one.

It's Dick. Because of course it is.

"Hey Dickie?" Dick asks, and the name sends a knife through the clone's ribs. Dick shouldn't say his own name like that. It must taste horrible in his mouth.

It tastes horrible in the clone's.

"You up?" Dick's voices again. Older. Firmer. More mature than what the clone could have ever imagined.

The clone swallows then decides he might as well rip off the band-aid. He gets out of the bedsheets, the borrowed oversized pajamas slipping down his shoulder and down his hips. He scrubs under his eyes one last time before he opens the door a crack. On the other side is the original version of his DNA, standing there, smiling too brightly for how early in the morning it must be.

"Good morning," Dick greets, his knees bending ever so slightly to look less intimidating. And to think, Dick's always been small for his age, but here he is, bending down to not look over his younger clone. "You up for pancakes?"

Pancakes? Alfred's let sugar into the building? Man, more is different here than he thought.

"I'm not… really hungry," the clone says, but then Dick's face scrunches up ever so slightly and the clone knows he's trapped.

"You gotta eat something, squirt," Dick chides, "though I suppose it's still early, and I can tell Alf to hold off another hour, if you want. Maybe we can invite one of the others so you can finally meet-"

"I'll eat now," the clone bursts, then instantly feels bad about it when Dick's face falls ever so slightly.

The clone shuffles his feet and tries to ignore the heat in spreading up his neck and through the tips of his ears.

"I… don't want to bother Alfred..."

Even to the clone, the excuse sounds lame. However Dick doesn’t seem to have any intentions of calling him out on his lie. He can’t understand why Dick is letting him act like this. Lie. Be uncooperative. Take guest rooms and stuffed animals and clothes belonging to someone else. He shouldn’t have this understanding look on his face. He should be grabbing the clone by the arm and dragging him off to do what they want him to do—just to quit being so commendable.

Instead, Dick smiles and begins to lead him through the empty manor. The clone tries not to think about who else could live here. Who else has roamed these hallways. Him being here must be throwing off the entire ecosystem of the place… keeping multiple people from coming home just because he's uncomfortable with meeting them.

After breakfast, the clone decides, after breakfast and he'll tell Bruce and Dick that they shouldn’t… that they don’t have to go out of their way anymore to keep their newest little intruder comfortable. Let the others come back to their home.

It’s not his.

It’s not anything he has the right to have dictatorship over. His discomfort is meaningless.

The moment the clone steps into the dining room, he immediately wishes to go back to bed. Already, little appetizers are set out—bowls of eggs, plates of sausage and bacon, butter with knives carefully placed besides each little dish—but there's no one else in the room besides the two of them.

Which means when Dick sits down at his normal spot and the clone purposely sits somewhere else, he's helpless to stay there and watch as Dick stands up with his plate and walks over to sit across from the clone.

The clone curls his fists under the table and diverts his gaze.

Awkwardness settles between the two of them like a big ugly beast, and that awkwardness insists on staying there even as Dick reaches over and piles his plate with sausage. The clone bites the inside of his cheek and doesn’t move to do the same. He can tell Dick wants to comment on that, maybe even say something about trying the bacon and how Alfred’s bacon is the only kind that’s worth eating… but when he opens his mouth the door’s into the dining room open once again, and in walks none other than Bruce.

Panic reignites in his chest at the sight of the man before him. He’s like a tower, something eerie that practically has a visible aura of authority and intelligence. He carries himself with purpose despite the clear-as-day bags under his eyes and the deeper frown gracing his lips than normal. He definitely doesn’t look like sleep had visited him last night… he was probable up from sunset to sunrise trying to figure out where the clone came from and what to do with him.

Perhaps the minutes until his fate is to be decided is closer than he thinks.

The clone catches Bruce's eye for a second, a natural urge in him screaming to scramble up and grab onto his arm and demand what is to be done. In his fake memories, he’s so used to the dynamic between the two of them. The trust.

There’s none of that here. He just manages to keep glued to his seat as Bruce’s eyes widen like he’s forgotten the clone was here.

Bruce slows his walk ever so slightly as his eyes break from the clones and stare off slightly to the left with no purpose. "Good morning… Dick."

And the clone really wants to sink into nothing now, especially as the real Dick smiles and doesn't say anything. Willingly standing back as someone else is being referred to by his own name.

The clone is curling his fists so tightly in the fabric of his pajamas he can almost feel the indents of his nails through the material.

"Morning…" the clone says quietly.

Dick smiles brightly and turns towards Bruce. "Hey B!"

"Good morning…" Bruce sits down at the head of the table. "Dick..."

At least Dick's smile strains a little right there. Though, the clone can't tell if it's because of his name being thrown around, or if it's the unsure way Bruce says it.

Bruce shouldn’t be unsure of who deserves the name Dick. He’d have to have been hit quite a few times in his head since the time of the clone’s memories to have forgotten who his son is—and it’s not the clone.

Either way, the clone sinks back into the chair as Dick and Bruce begin what seems too casual to be a morning conversation… he stays quiet and hopes he remains ignored at least until the end of breakfast.

However, his attention is grabbed by Bruce clearing his throat. “So,” he says, “Dick… how did you sleep last night?”

The clone takes a second to realize that Bruce could only be talking to him, you know, judging off of how they both turn to look at him. He clears his throat awkwardly and shift’s in his seat. “It was okay…”

Bruce’s eyebrows fall. “What? You’ll have to speak up a little louder.”

The clone didn’t even realize he practically mumbled that. He clears his throat and desperately wishes that Poison Ivy would barge in and control the potted plant in the corner to grab him and drag him away from this entire situation. “I said it-”

The door opens, and in walks none other than Alfred. Tension tightens in his being, but he also can’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

Everything stills right then and there. The clone can only stare wide eyed as Alfred walks in with a smoothness that only he has and begins to set down trays of steaming hot pancakes. Seeing Alfred aches in a whole new way compared to Bruce and even Dick himself. The clone hasn’t seen hair nor hide of Alfred since he’s arrived, but seeing him now is further proof of the time gap he’s living in.

He’s so much older. Skinnier. His face is covered in wrinkles he’s not sure he had before. The hair of his mustache is a little bit more gray.

“Good morning sirs,” Alfred says, a twinkle in his eye and a specific look towards each of his two charges. Then, his eyes settle on the clone and the clone almost finds himself bursting into pathetic sobs right there. A spark still sits in Alfreds eyes, and it shines so brightly that the way his mouth seems to fall into a barely concealed form almost goes unnoticed. “And welcome to the manor, young Master Dick.”

Then breakfast starts. The clone ducks his head to avoid Alfred’s sharp eyes and leans back as Dick reaches over the table to plop two fluffy pancakes onto his plate, already mumbling through bites of his own to try the blueberry syrup.

He tries the blueberry syrup, just to get him off his back.

After that, things shockingly go okay for a little while longer—but the clone can tell the exact moment Bruce decides he wants to say something. He can see it in the way he clears his throat, tugs at one sleeve, sits up more straight, and taps the knife to make sure it's straight besides his empty plate. He can also tell in the way the real Dick tenses, because he's definitely noticed all of those tells as well.

The clone puts down the bite of pancakes he was about to pretend to eat down at the table, sucks in a breath of air, and then looks Bruce straight in the eye.

This is it. This is when his fate is revealed and everyone can stop forcing themselves to be nice to him.

"Dick…" Bruce starts, and the clone can't deny that he's the one being spoken to. Not when Bruce is staring him straight in the eye, like he would the real one. Like he probably would any of his other kids. "I… understand that it might be scary right now, but I promise this will all be figured out, and you can soon begin living like a normal child."

The clone blanks. He wasn't… expecting that. He looks over at the real Dick, who's currently wound tight like a cobra. The clone wonders if there's something about how Bruce is acting right now that he hasn't learned to look out for. Something the real Dick can see a mile away. The clone catches sight of Alfred, his lips turned into a frown, eyes narrowed. He can see it too.

The clone has no idea.

The idea that there's something he doesn't know about the tells of the family before him shouldn't relieve him as much as it does.

"That's why," Bruce says, bringing the clones attention back to him, "if you would like, I would be honored to-"

"Okay, B," Dick yells loudly, standing up from the table quickly, almost causing the chair behind him to fall backwards. "We need to talk."

Bruce raises an eyebrow, but when Alfred clears his throat, the man huffs and stands up, allowing Dick to grab him by his arm and drag him outside the dining room.

It falls silent in the dining room, and it takes every ounce of will power the clone has to not say anything as he looks down at his plate and runs his fork through the syrup soaked pancakes. A hand appears in his vision and fills up his glass with chocolate milk.

"Don't worry, young Master Dick," Alfred says softly. Kindly. And the clone realizes this is the first conversation he's had with the man since... since ending up back here. He blinks and looks up at Alfred, and all he sees is intense sincerity and warmth. Something in his chest loosens ever so slightly. "Master Bruce means well, but some habits cannot change easily. You are very welcome into this home, no matter what you decide when the time comes."

The clone brings his hand up to his cheek and wipes under his eye before anything can form.

"… Thank you Alfred."

"You're very welcome, young sir." Alfred smiles for just a flash, and then he flicks his eyes down to the clone’s still full plate. "Why don't you eat just a single helping to ease an old man's heart? We can figure out everything after."

The clone nods, and he thinks he might almost smile. Thankfully, Alfred turns away and allows the clone to reach forward and take a bite of delicious pancake goodness in silent companionship.

The clone wonders how long this will last.

He doesn't dwell on it.

-o-o-o-o-

"Are… you sure?" Dick asks.

The clone nods and shuffles his feet on the carpet lining the long corridors of the manor. "I can't keep them from their home forever. I might as well just rip off the band-aid and get it over with."

Dick studies him for a second, and the clone can't help but shuffle again. After Dick and Bruce came back from whatever conversation they had, neither of them mentioned anything about what the argument was about. The clone could tell it was an argument because Bruce didn't say a single thing, just nodded at the clone and continued his second helping of pancakes in silence.

The clone wonders if he gets as red in the face as Dick does when he gets angry. If his hands shake that much.

Dick's calmed down now though, which is why the clone has cornered him in the hallway on a sorta unneeded tour, but one that was useful all the same. A lot of things have changed. Some wings have been completely rebuilt. Rooms are different… some look lived in. Vases are missing.

Dick kneels down in front of the clone and gives him a once over; a wrinkle placing itself comfortably between his brow. "Look…” he says slowly, “I was told to try to not do this… but I think you might need to hear this anyway."

Weariness fills the clone's veins, but he remains silent and Dick seems to flounder a little bit for words.

Dick takes a deep breath and then looks the clone straight into his copied eyes. "I understand how you’re feeling. You've never wanted a new family. You’ve never wanted Bruce to be your dad. You're afraid of… what siblings could mean..."

The clone looks away, something icky settling in his stomach.

Dick doesn't force the clone to look at him, but he keeps talking anyway.

"I just want you to know that it's okay to feel that way. I felt that way for a long time. If you don't want to meet the others because it makes you uncomfortable, then I won't force you. None of us will force you. We'll give you space until you're ready."

This is awful. The clone feels sick to his stomach.

It takes him a second to find his words. It takes him a second to put words on the tip of his tongue that aren't you don't know me and stop pretending you care. He swallows down his anger that doesn't belong to him.

None of these feelings belong to him. The clone never lost his parents, the clone wasn’t ever taken in as Bruce Wayne's ward, he doesn't deserve to feel any of this.

It’s all only inevitability before someone decides it's time to send him away. It's only a matter of time before he's determined too dangerous to keep here.

So, instead of screaming his voice raw at Dick like he wants to, he takes a deep breath.

"It's fine," he says, "don't worry about me. Besides, it's not like they're my actual siblings. I'm not Bruce's ward."

Dick's face pinches like that wasn't what he wanted to hear, but the clone turns around and walks away as quickly as he can. He wants to be alone. He wants to climb in a corner somewhere and not exist.

Instead, he ends up back in the room they're letting him stay in, his eyes immediately latch onto the stuffed elephant placed carefully on his bed. He stomps forward, grabs it by the trunk, then hurtles it out of the room and slams the door shut, breathing hard.

It takes just a moment for angry tears to burst from his eyes. He locks the door with shaking hands, and he's sure his face is red. Then, he turns and collapses backwards so his back is almost stabbed by the doorknob. His knees give out and he sits there, staring at nothing, wishing he could sink into nothing.

He sits there and begins to pathetically cry once again, but this time he simply doesn’t allow himself to make a sound.

-o-o-o-o-

A knock on the door. About an hour later.

"Dick?"

The clone doesn't answer.

"Dick, can we talk?"

Still no answer.

"… Look, I think what I said was… I think it hurt your feelings more than helped you like I intended... I only want to help you."

Silence.

"Dick, come on buddy, I'm-"

"Stop calling me that."

"… Wh-"

"Dick. Stop calling me that. I'm not Dick. I'm not you."

A beat of silence. An exhale. The clone curls tighter against the door and wrings his awful blank fingertips into the pants of his borrowed pajamas.

"What would you like me to call you then?"

The clone opens his mouth. Them closes it. Does he want a name? Does he even deserve one?

"Kiddo, we need to call you something."

"I don't care. Call be anything. Just not…"

A body on the other side of the door shifts, and the clone wonders if Dick is sitting on the floor like he is, back against the door, elephant in his hands, probably checking for destruction.

"How about this… how about we call you… John. We call you John, and you can tell us when to stop if you ever decide on something else." A beat. Then a quickly rushed afterthought. "Unless you don't want John, it can be anything-"

"John is fine."

The clone says it before he means to. He almost wants to take it back. John is still Dick's name. It's his middle name. It's his dad's name.

"Okay!" Dick says, and the clone can hear the strained smile in his voice. "John it is, them!"

The clone… John, he supposes… bites his lip. "What about… the others."

"If you want, we'll introduce you to them one at a time. I'm thinking Duke… or Tim first. Duke is really chill, but Tim also has… experience… and he's a sweet kid. They're all sweet kids."

John nods, then remembers the door is still locked and closed behind him. He wipes his cheeks and stands up, undoing the lock at opening the door to find Dick hastily standing up with Zitka in his hands.

"Is that okay?" Dick asks, his eyes wide and… hopeful.

Hope. That's what Dick is all about…. Right?

The- John takes a deep breath. "Yeah… yeah I think that's okay."

Dick's face splits into a giant grin, and before t-John can even try to escape, he's engulfed into a giant hug.

His- Dick's mom used to say he gave the best hugs. It seems like it's true. This is the best hug John’s ever had… or that he owns the artificial memory of having.

Dick splits the hug and holds his hands on John's shoulders, thumbs and fingers finding the little grooves of his collarbone and shoulder blades, unconsciously kneading the muscles there. He still has a goofy grin on his face. John realizes it might be because somehow Zitka has ended up back in his arms.

Of course Dick would still want him to have it. John can't imagine ever giving Zitka up to someone… but Dick's an adult now, and he's already gone so much out of his way just to make John somewhat comfortable here.

"I'll talk to Tim then," Dick says, "I think he's the best choice."

"Okay," John replied, nodding slowly. "Is he the owner of these pajamas?"

Dick's face ripples in amusement. He smiles slightly, though this time it's more to himself. "No… Damian gave us permission for you to use his clothes. He's a little older than you. 13 years old…" Dick's eyes go far away, and then he blinks and shakes his head. "He might be someone you'll meet later, he's just as sweet as all the others, but can be a little… prickly."

John nods. As long as the sibling these clothes belong to knows that he's using them, then that's okay. He wonders.… Who Damian really is to Dick. He doesn't understand that far away look that passed by, but he can tell it must be something special.

"You okay?"

John blinks, exiting his thoughts. He looks at Dick… then at the animal in his hands. He has the intense desire to hold it close to his chest and hug the life out of it in apology for throwing it earlier.

Instead, he tries to force something that feels like a smile but might look more like a grimace. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Dick asks, and John simply shrugs. For throwing a scene? For existing? For everything?

He’s not sure. Dick opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but then some sort of chime breaks through the silence and Dick pulls out a phone that’s definitely more advanced than what John thought a phone could even be. Dick looks at his phone for a second, and then gives a slight smile towards John.

“Speak of the devil, it’s Tim,” Dick says, his eyes soften from the name alone. “He’s wondering if you would want to meet him… apparently Kon’s free tomorrow and he thinks you two should meet while you’re at it. That is- just if you’re comfortable-?”

Kon? As in… Kon-El? Something so afraid and so hopeful twists in his chest, but he’s nodding before he can think too much about it. Dick smiles and begins to talk about how much fun tomorrow will be and John can do nothing but continue to nod along, trying to ignore how that twisting becomes a knot of anxiety.

He has a feeling that things are about to get a little bit better… or So. Much. Worse.

Just… rip off the bandaid… right?

#dick grayson #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #nightwing #batman #fanfiction #jin writes #dc #dc comics #clonefic #batman comics

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