#I do not want them to die I just want them to suffer for a little bit

[kenwio]

Joker's kid! reader : how batfamily would react on them trying to end their life

Route : recovered dove

Please read warnings before reading this one!

If you do not feel like reading it, it's okay! (Spoilers will be at the end of this part) Please have tea or hot cocoa, and read relax 💖 and remember there are people who care and support you 💖 I'll be posting more fluff in future parts

Warnings : heavy topics, mentions of death, implications of self-destructive behavior and suicidal behavior, hurt/comfort, traumatized characters.

Idea for this part from this ask here . I also used this idea for comfort part form here

Author's note : I'm including this part in route: Recovered dove only because I want to show that mental healing of Joker's kid is a long way, it had ups and downs, but in the end they have family who acres about them now.

You don't know what exactly triggered it. Maybe it was the fact that everyone started discussing break out in Arkham asylum instead of the usual breakfast convention, maybe it was how Bruce said he didn't have time for you, maybe it was how Alfred was distant today, so you thought something wrong, maybe it was that Dick ignored you today, maybe it was that Jason's aggressive demeanor when you saw him, maybe it was Tim's comment when you brought him coffee, maybe it was Damian's harshness when you meet him near your room today.

That all made you feel so lost. To see them all being unwelcoming to you again was overwhelming. Is it because your father is free again, and they thought you'd be helping him? Wait if your father is free... he will want you back. You don't want back! No! You don't want to be with him again! You do not want to be experimented on again, be beaten up by him again. You thought it was finally over, that you were taken away from that life, never to return. You thought you found family! Why does he have to ruin your life again? He drove her away from you already, the only person who protected you before Batman and his birds, the only person who was your family before them, your mom ... and now he is doing it again; he is taking your family away again! But were they your family? You thought that Bruce was thinking about you as his own child, you thought that Alfred was proud of your progress, you thought that Dick was happy to spend time with you, you thought that Jason was enjoying your shared reading time, you thought that Tim liked to study with you, you thought that Damian finally accepted you. Were you wrong? Was it all a lie? Did they want to use you as bait for your father? Or did they think you would be able to tell them something about him? Was that a reason why they got close to you? But now that they see they were wrong, and after they made sure you didn't know anything, they decided to drop the act?

Was it all a happy dream that's just ended? If it was a dream, you don't want to wake up to the nightmare of your previous life. You can't take the suffering anymore. You need to make it stop to end it, to end it all.

You didn't know how long you were in you were in your thoughts, when you got up. You wanted to live. The room that became your own, became your safe space now felt like JOKE. You needed to get away from it. You struggled to open the window, as it required much strength from your shaking hands. But you were persistent in your efforts to open it, and in the end window opened. You looked down, it was quite high, and you knew that for your body, which was unlike theirs, weak and fragile, it would be enough. You've seen a grown man die when he fell from his high back in a crime alley, so for you, it will definitely be enough. Oh, crime alley, you don't want to go there. You don't want to return to life with Joker. You stood up on the windowsill, looking at the green grass down, feeling the cold night wind against your skin. Your head felt heavy, ringing in your ears just made it all worse. You took one step, and you felt incredibly calm. You took another step, only to be pulled away from the windowsill on the ground and held up. You didn't register the loud voice, the way someone was shaking you. You just sit there staring at nothing in particular, not even able to cry because of how tired you are.

In the meantime, Damian, the one who pulled you away from the window, had already called everyone and was trying hard to make you snap out of it. Yet it was not helping. When Bruce arrived, he moved Damian, who was looking at you with extreme worry, aside. Bruce recognized your expression; he had seen it before - thousand-yard stare - your own mind was protecting you from whatever you were feeling. As he was trying to help you, holding you against him, trying to soothe you, the rest of the family arrived in your room, seeing scared Damian, worried Bruce, and you... you looked so broken. It was too hard on them all

A few hours later, when you fell asleep after you came to your senses and cried for a while, Bruce and others started figuring out what made you feel this way. And it didn't take long; they are a family of detectives, after all. And this all made them feel really bad, guilty. As it turned out, on this day, you were too unlucky to notice only the bad sides of things.

There wasn't any breakout In Arkham asylum. Turns out, the lead they were investigating turned out to be false. Bruce, indeed, was busy, but he failed to communicate this in the normal way: he only added that he would try to make some only by the time you stepped away, which he didn't notice. Alfred was distant because he had a migraine today, but he still wanted to work around the house; there were too many chores to be done in the Wayne manor. Dick didn't mean to ignore you, he was too tired after his few nights of being up and he just failed to notice your quiet presence, being too busy thinking about his bed. Jason was behaving aggressively because of the lead about break out from Arkham asylum, which was the one that he followed for his case, and since it was false; it took the case he was working on back to square one. Tim actually was mumbling about his case, quietly cursing criminals, and not you; just like Jason, he had too much trouble because of that stupid lead. Damian stepped in at the last second to help you avoid stumbling and falling when you were waking in your room, which resulted in his harshness to you, but you were too deep in your panic to notice that his gaze was more worried than angry. If Damian wouldn't have been worried and decided to check up on you... non of them want to think about it.

They spend night in your room and in the morning, they talked to you, communicating how things actually were the previous day, and expressing how important you were to them.

It was a shock to everyone. Even Bruce thought it was going fine, that your session was working and helping you, that you were feeling safe, and that your relationships with the rest of the family were getting better. And he knew that what happened damaged the whole family because they almost lost you. He regretted that he didn't phrase his words correctly, feeling like he failed to show his care for you. He knew he should have been careful with words, he knows how impactful they can be. And since he said he hadn't got time for you he started making time for you. He wants you to know that he cares for you and he will make time for you wherever you need him. His one daily check-up became 2 check-ups, and when he had more free time, he checked up more. He pays extra attention to you. Even your little sneeze will make him worried to the point of examination in a medbay. He stays with you, and sometimes talks with you, encouraging you to open up and share your opinion and feelings. He tries to lessen the influence of "bad guidelines" (that were with you because of Joker) in your head. He helps you talk through your feelings, helps you show them and process them. He reminds you that you are cared for now. And he promises that he will protect you. After hearing you out, learning your fears and insecurities, and when he learned out that most of all you are afraid to go by your father's way, he promises you that he will do everything in his power to prevent you from taking this way. Bruce wants you to be happy, to make good memories. You already got unlucky with your father, who made you experience hell, but Bruce will try to be the best Dad he can for you.

Alfred felt so guilty. He knew you needed care, but he was distracted. He feels like he let you down, by forgetting how fragile and sensitive you are. He knew you were struggling; he had seen it himself. If only he had paid you more attention. But Alfred, better than anyone else, knows that he shouldn't be focusing on the past; he needs to work on the present, and he needs to make sure you feel better. He makes sure to make you more happy while he can. It's always your favorite tea at the tea time you share, with his cookies, of course, which he bakes with you from time to time. It's always your comfort shows or documentaries on TV when you two watch something. He also makes sure no one dares to make you feel uncomfortable, even if it will make him look around like Hawk. But Alfred understands that he can't always be around; that's exactly why he makes sure that he teaches you at least a few techniques that would be able to help with worry and anxiety, and he practices them with you. You are his little star, who may be really quiet but still efficiently lights up his days, and he doesn't want to lose you. When you share that you are afraid your family will reject you, he personally goes to everyone, making sure that they won't be saying something that contains a message. He wants to see you all grown up and happy in the end; he will work hard to make sure your life in Manor will be good.

Even when Dick just heard how Damian called for help for you, he felt shocked, what to say when he saw and understood the situation. What do you mean his baby sibling tried to make their life end when he was blissfully unaware, sleeping in his old room? How? What he missed? Just a few days before, you seemed on your way to becoming the happy sunshine of a kid, and now that has happened? He is your older brother and he missed all the singes?! He needs to sit down. It's too hard to accept this version of reality for him. The reality is that he can lose another member of the family. He knows what it is like to lose a sibling, and he will never want to experience it or feel this pain again. And knowing that it's you who tried to end your life makes it all worse. He tries to understand what pushed you, trying to see what he can do to prevent this from happening. He also tries to distract you from all the negativity in your life with quality time and different activities. The incident shook him hard, and while he hoped to introduce you to cuddles differently, he had to do it now. He needs to make sure you are close, still warm, still safe, still alive. And it seemed like cuddling with him made you calmer; you didn't even realize how touch-starved you were until then. It became a sort of comforting ritual for both of you, cuddling, sometimes just cuddling, sometimes while watching something. While cuddling he often says sweet words of reassurance to you. And while he knows he can't stay in Manor forever, he makes sure you know that he is always here for you, just a call away.

Jason was mad at himself for allowing himself to snap at you earlier. He feels incredible guilt that he was the reason that you were in that state. For a few days after, he could only watch you in your room or living room until he talked about his feelings and the incident (how he calls it because he can't speak that out loud, it physically hurts him to admit it) with Bruce and Dick. He started slowly approaching you, continuing your reading sessions, but also, sometimes, he decided just to start talking with you. He shares with you his experiences in the crime alley, and you share yours; you both know that only you two in the whole family could understand the full horror of this place, and that's aside from the fact that both of you know the full horror of Joker. He says to you that you'll never become like him, because he sees you are different. Jason tries to comfort you, yet he knows he is not ideal in it, but he is willing to try as much as he can just for you. He can understand that you feel lonely; he can only imagine how lonely you get when all the family is busy with vigilante work. It got him thinking, remembering. He remembers times when he was still Robin, and sometimes, when he got hurt, he stayed in his room alone, and. he hated it. Back when Dick gifted him a plushie of a bat, and now, in another attempt to comfort you, he brings this old plushie to you. He tells you that this plushie kept him company and protected him from everything bad, and now it will protect you, and now you'll never be alone anymore; your family's love will be here for you.

Tim was second after Damian to arrive in your room. This sight horrified him. He just froze, in shock. For once, he didn't know how to act or what to do. After everyone made sure you were okay, and his brain began working again, he started to do what he knew best - investigating and researching to find ways of how to help you, trying them with you in the meantime. Art therapy? He tried to hold a few sessions with you. Special games? You both alredy beating third one. Special music? Here is his player, listen when you want. He becomes more attentive to you, noticing every little detail. He knows as a person who likes studies like him, you would want to learn more about your mental health and how to care about yours. He found a way to explain the basics of it all to you in a way that is easier for you to understand, and only when she reads articles (that he chose, of course) about mental health and coping mechanisms. You want to cuddle with him while reading? Good, he will do it (he is happy that Dick showed you how to cuddle and totally not jealous). You want to stay with him while he works? Okay, sure, he is here for you. He makes sure you can ask him anything; he reminds you that you are safe with him and with others. So when you ask about Arkham and your father there he makes sure to show you that Arkham is hard to get out (even if it's not true).

Damian didn't like how it felt to see you on the windowsill. He doesn't like how it feels to see you in this state. He doesn't like fear. But fear made one thing clear: he cares about you. He hadn't understood how important you became until that incident happened. You are his sibling, and even if he did not choose you, even if he was against the idea of you being in the family at first, now he knows you held a place in this family like everyone else. And now he knows that he will do everything in his power to make you safe; he will protect you even from yourself. He asked Bruce to install precautions in your room. He follows you like your shadow everywhere you go. He makes sure that there is no danger in your way. He checks up on how you sleep after patrols. He makes sure to be nicer when he is around you, and he heads to ask Father, Pennyworth, and Grayson how exactly to behave around you. He joins in Tim the research of ways for you to cope with traumas or ways to comfort you, and when he sees articles about how communicating with animals improves mental health, he brings Titus to you, and when he goes for walks with Titis he makes sure to take you on them too since he also found out that walks improve mental health, and since it's walking with Titus it's beneficial in double. He protects you and he cares for you even if he struggles with proving it

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Thank you for reading! Feel free to share your opinion and have a good day 💖

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Tag list :

@socially-embarrassing , @leovergurl , @deathbynarcisstick , @cryptic-arr0w , @lynns-cornerr , @cxcilla ,  @charlotteking23 , @ninihrtss , @lillycore , @pix-stuff , @tfamidoingwithmylife , @linoalwaysknows , @00hellohello00 , @lilithskywalker , @bagofrice , @lenaisaloser , @devilslittlehelper , @camilo-uwu , @l3v1us , @eyeless-kun , @stargazingbutgayer, @wpdarlingpan , @weirdothatreads , @maybea1 @lyla-viper-wayne @amber-content @lizzyzzn

if i forgot to add someone to the tag list, please let me know, and i will add you to the next part

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Spoiler:

Next chapter connected to this (click here) and after that I'll finally write about Joker's kid! reader hair dyeing adventures

[leupagus]

Please enjoy this section of "A Song of Darkness and Dawn" that's at least three fics into the future (somewhere around season 8?) that I've had in my drafts for literally a year

Happy anniversary?

"Father never talked about the Rebellion," said Lady Stark after a long moment. "At least not with me. Our septa taught us about it, a bit. How King Robert made his claim to the Iron Throne in part through his grandmother, Rhaelle Targaryen. She was the younger sister to King Jaehaerys and Queen Shaera."

"You believe Daenerys's claim to be stronger than mine?" He took a breath, wondering at himself even as he said, "It may well be."

Lady Stark gaped at him. "'It may well be'?" she echoed, incredulous. "Whatever happened to 'the Iron Throne is mine by right' and 'all those who deny my claim are my enemy' and 'I alone can unite the realm'?"

"I don't sound like that," he snapped, ignoring her badly-suppressed snort. "Robert won by right of conquest more than birth, and three dragons gives Daenerys Stormborn a better claim than any bloodline. But the more I think on it..." He sighed. "I suspect that there is no such thing as king — or queen — by right. It's simply a pretty phrase for those in power to pursue what they want, at the expense of their duty to their people." He glanced at her. "What?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, though her expression was odd. "I just never expected to hear such things from you."

"It's your fault, if it's anyone's."

"Really." This expression was more familiar: a glower. "I'm sure this will be interesting."

"You took Winterfell back, despite having no real claim other than the..." He cast about for the right word, "sentiment, I suppose, of the Northern lords."

It wasn't the right word, he soon discovered. "I'm a Stark," she replied hotly. "My family's held the North for thousands of years!"

"But you're not the heir to Winterfell," he pointed out. ". Daughters can inherit — but they usualy don't, not if there's a son living. And your father had three."

"None of whom want to be Warden of the North!" She looked ready to kick him. "And you yourself granted Winterfell to me—"

"And I meant it," he said, stepping back a judicious pace. "You've rebuilt the Keep and brought order back to the North, made it safe for your people. Now you're preparing them for the Great War, and I'd ask for no one better. You're doing your duty. But it was a duty you sought, and a duty that rightly belongs to someone else."

"It's a duty I'm suited to," she countered. "Just as you were suited better to be Lord of Dragonstone and Master of Ships than to be Lord Paramount of the Stormlands."

Stannis jabbed a finger at her. "That was completely different!"

"Only because King Robert gave Storm's End to Renly outright," she said, raising a finger in turn. "You're the one who considered it a slight, even though Dragonstone was the holdfast given to the heir to the Iron Throne, which you were, until Joffrey was born. Not only that, you were the only man Robert could have trusted to rebuild his fleet. And," she added, pushing his hand down when he tried to interject, "You would have hated being Lord of the Stormlands."

She said it with such triumphant confidence that he was left gaping at her for a moment, before hurredly pulling his hand away from hers. "I admire your confidence, my lady," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "But bear in mind that I am Lord Paramount of the Stormlands."

"Yes, and if you were there, you'd hate it," she said blithely. "You'd have to deal with people, throughout the day and every day — and not just people who do as you tell them. You'd have to listen to the complaints of smallfolk about their taxed grains, hear out disputes between two holdings that have been fighting over the same half-acre for three generations; you'd have to listen all the wheedling lords and the irascable septons and blustering tradesmen. You'd have to offer comfort to the sickly who come to you for the healing touch of their lord, attend feast days and wave and smile at the crowds, accept the flower crowns the children weave for you at the tourneys. You can't just shout. You have to care, and be shown to care. You—" Suddenly she stopped and laughed. "I wish I had a mirror right now, to show you your face."

"Flower crowns?" he asked, wincing. Shireen would look well in them, at least.

"Good thing I didn't bend the knee, Your Grace," she said, "if the mere thought of daisies wrapped around your head makes you rethink the entire enterprise. What did you think being king meant?"

[pain-is-forever]

Theo wants to squeeze Argo back, but it all happens so quick he can't even begin to register anything. Aside from that smile. Argo's smiling. How could he be smiling right now? He just told Theo to kill him- and he's smiling. How could she have smiled when she asked that of him? Why do people keep smiling as they tell Theo to murder them?

"Andr-" Theo bites his tongue. Snap out of it. This isn't her. It's not- it's not the same. Get a grip. This is Argo. It's Argo. Not Andrea. You're not reliving this. You're not- you won't let that happen again. You promised her you wouldn't. You're going to keep your promise, aren't you?

"Argo- Argo, please. I can't- don't- gods damnit, I've already lost someone like that, I can't lose you, too-" Theo reaches out to Argo, wanting to hold them, to hug them forever and make everything okay. He doesn't know how, but he's sure he could figure it out, if only he had time-

Theo's so selfish. He's selfish in thinking he could fix it all by himself, that he could change Argo's mind about this. That he can just keep them here against their will. But it's Argo. He can't lose Argo. Argo, who was one of the first people to not give up on him.

Fuck no. He's not letting his friend die. Not like that. He's not killing another person, he simply won't let that happen. He wants to tackle Argo to the ground again, but stops himself. Argo's hurt. He's got two deities inside his brain. There's no talking them out of this. It's what they want.

Everything hurts. Theo's chest stings with guilt, his head is pounding, even his eyes hurt from the crying. He feels as though his legs are about to give out. Like he's not going to make it any longer. Like he's going to collapse and never get up again. He feels like Argo just told Theo to kill himself instead of them.

Argo is part of him, an inseperable part of him. He can't just get rid of that part as if it meant nothing. His bottom lip is quivering. He can't do it. He can't bring himself to raise his sword at his brother. There's just no way in hell he'd manage to do what he was asked.

Then, Argo's eyes turn white, and everything disappears. It's as if Kronos stopped time. Theo feels like he's floating in a pink abyss, Argo's body floating beside him. The scene doesn't feel real, deep down he knows he's in the woods, he sees the trees- but in his mind, he's in that pink abyss, nothing aside from himself and Argo there. He doesn't want this to be reality.

Memories flash through his head. The times they'd laugh together, the way he'd comfort Argo, that one time he gifted them a coat, all the times they fell asleep next to each other, the way they lived in the same house- adopted by the same man. This can't be the end. He can't let it be the end. He'll find a way to fix this. He'll- he'll go down to the underworld and drag Argo's soul back into his body. This time he'll succeed. He'll make sure Argo is alive and alone in their body.

But first, Theo has to do something he'll regret. Something so heart wrenching, so horrible, that he won't be able to sleep for at least a month because of it. Something he swore he'd never do. 'I'm sorry, Andrea. I have to- I know I said I wouldn't, but I have to-' gods, he feels so guilty. This is all his fault. He slowly draws his sword, his hands are shaking. His entire body is shaking.

Theo puts his foot on Argo's abdomen as an attempt to stop them from squirming. If they squirm, it's just going to hurt more. Theo wants to give Argo a quick death. His brother doesn't deserve to suffer like this. He can't make it painless, but he'll make the pain go away as soon as he can. So fast the body won't even register it. That's his goal.

He positions his sword above Argo's chest, locating the heart. A quick pierce through the heart, stopping function. It should be over quite soon. Spare him the pain. Just do it. Just- Just stab him. It's not that hard.

He breathes in, closing his eyes shut. He doesn't want to look at this. At what he's about to do. His chest hurts, it pangs with guilt and sorrow. His hands are shaking, the sword threatens to fall to the ground. He grips it tighter, takes a couple more deep breaths. He has to do this. He has to- Argo asked. And who is Theo to deny his brother's request? He calms the shaking in his hands, steadying his grip and the sword.

He shuts his eyes even more, so much so he starts seeing spots in the darkness of his eyelids. He inhales deeply once more and quickly brings his sword down on Argo, piercing through the heart. Theo's body crouches on its own with the motion, just to make sure the sword has fully gone through the body. A hole in the heart. Theo's entire body hurts, he fights back tears.

He opens his eyes. It's over. He did it. He made it. Oh, gods, he's killed someone again. Oh gods. He pulls his sword out of Argo's body, the wound starting to bleed. He collapses onto his brother's body, he doesn't even care that his face is on the wound. He's getting blood on his face. He doesn't care. He starts crying again. He stays like that for a while before moving his face to kiss Argo's forehead. "Rest easy, brother..."

This one won't come back. This one's dead for good. It's over. Part of Theo is gone. Argo is gone. Fuck, what has he done? This is so wrong. Tears mix with Argo's blood on Theo's face. He hugs his brother one last time before setting the body to the side and beginning to dig.

Theo wants to dig a grave. He can't give Argo the proper Greek burial, but he can give them a burial. And any burial is better than no burial. He's digging with his hands, he has no shovel and swords aren't exactly made for digging. Dirt getting behind his nails, pebbles in the way and tree roots interrupting, Theo persists. None of it deters him. He needs to do this.

It takes him a couple hours to dig a proper hole, but he manages to make it. He digs through his pockets and pulls out a single golden drachma. He gently opens Argo's mouth and places the coin on their tongue. He closes his brother's mouth and lifts the body, as if nothing else in the world mattered. He sets it down in the hole and pushes the dirt he dug away back into it. He pats the top out to smoothen it.

Then, he walks to find Argo's dagger. He comes back to his little burial site and stares at it. He gets angry. Why would this happen to him? Why him? Why does it always have to be him who loses friends? He rushes up to the tree next to the grave and starts slashing at it wildly with the dagger until he's exhausted.

Theo's exhausted. He's tired and angry. He falls forward, lodging Argo's dagger in the grave. He wants to dig his friend out. He wants to fix this. He has to- he can't lose this one. But he doesn't Argo wanted this. Argo wanted it, and Theo has to oblige.

"Why would you leave me...?"

Open Starter

TW: SELF HARM, attempted murder

I want to scream. I want to scream. She is in my head. Get her out. Get her out.

Argo refused to leave the forest, he's been there for a week. He can't hurt anyone in the woods- they can overpower him.

Argo has clearly been crying for.. hours. He looks like a ghost- he looks dead.

Argo is holding a dagger, the one his brother gave him. He's not really.. holding it. It's on the ground next to him- because he has stabbed and sliced into his own legs repeatedly- and is panicked; trying to stop the bleeding.

Make her leave. Make her stop talking. I thought she'd stop if I did this. Please- make her stop.

When you approach- Argo's eyes switch colors so fast you get dizzy.

"I-" He sputters. "I have to kill you."

ANYONE CAN INTERACT

(seriously I'm so bored. any blog (canon or non, epic or pjo blogs) I WANT INTERACTION!! :P (I swear I'm nicer than Argo is)

taglist (ask to be added or deleted): @orion-the-hunterpt2 @lilacnightshade @pain-is-forever @reyno-solis-real @faceless-bugger @unlicensed-field-medic @the-great-emperor-commodus @the-eclipsed-sun

[wisteria-lodge]

2 things about Lily

It's obvious that she was the one to defeat Voldemort the first time around, not Harry, but Rowling refuses to elaborate on the spell, saying that she cast it accidentally (which... yeah sure, but then she created a world where only one mother and child could do it out of love... like did other children that suffered were not loved enough? oh i so dislike that). I don't know why Rowling does it. Like I always wanted it to be an actual spell that she (and James) researched and did as part of their back-up plan, but noooooo. A woman? Win against the big bad? In the 90s?? Noooo

Lily grew up with two people that we get to know intimately, and loved them dearly. Two very miserable, envious people, who likely hid their accents and the fact that they are of working class, two people who did everything, and sacrificed many things in order to be around characters who where wealthy. Two social climbers. And you know what Lily also did? This has to be deliberate. Like, I don't think that it's a bad thing. I think that Lily definitely wasn't as insane about social climbing as Severus and Petunia (I consider social mobility to be a positive thing!!), buuut she too married into money. So there is that.

I find it sad that the prospect of Lily being crazy ambitious and wanting to have better things are always portrayed as bad in fics, if it is discussed at all. You could have made her into a person who dreams about making it and give her a conflict about marrying into money, feeling like she will become a fake, and still craving that security! But nooooooo. Pefect perfection or a sleazy seductress, nothing else ever

Extremely good points. Wanting social stability is just a real, relatable thing, and it's got to be a lot for Lily, being told you're magic... and ADDITIONALLY learning that the power structure of the magical world that you live in now is super prejudiced against you? And there is an active dark wizard *currently* targeting people like you?

Also the sacrificial magic being cast accidentally never made sense. Harry does the same thing (I guess) on purpose at the end, with the result that all of Voldemort's spells have trouble "sticking," because Harry sacrificed himself for EVERYBODY? But I mean Regulus also sacrificed himself to protect people from Voldemort, he didn't have to die. Dumbledore willingly died to protect... Harry, Draco, Snape? Shouldn't that have had some magical effect?

It honestly would have been *so* much easier to say that Lily defeated Voldemort with a spell that sacrificed the caster's life. That's very cool, old-magic vibes.

But... this slots into an larger trend with the way JKR writes passivity and self-negation as heroic traits. The best example of this is Newt Scamander, her hero with the central traits "neutral" and "pacifist." But even with Harry... there's a reason he doesn't level up his core spells, and is most heavily associated with a disarming spell that he learns in year 2 and a shield spell he learns in year 3. JKR actively doesn't want him to be a combat character. It is *true* that Harry does not cast a single spell on-page in the entire first book. He does more magic later, but that original tendency is still there: there's a reason most of Harry's level-ups consist of loot given to him by loved ones, and not so much skills that he improves. JKR's ethos on power (expressed through Dumbledore) is that the people who handle power best are the people who don't want it.

And unfortunately... leveling up your spells on purpose... now that sounds like something that a person who WANTS POWER would do. Casting super duper powerful spells accidently (which harry also does, constantly) (and Lily does, of course) ... now *that* is much more morally pure.

[melled42]

I always forget that a lot of creators have their narilamb ship have that harsh dip in trust when narinder wants to sacrifice the lamb. I love it, it's a great dynamic, especially if there's and up before, I just forget sometimes that would be a natural progression of those characters

I thought since the start of the game that it would end with the lamb dead, even before it was revealed. You're always called a vessel, so I honestly thought the conclusion would be fight or you get possessed and they take the cult in your body. so i figured the lamb thought the same and either wanted to die since they were all alone, or were planning to fight all along. Honestly, before i found out narinder was a cat, i thought he was a dog, like an Anubis type, and it was a big "wolf in sheep's clothing" metaphor >_>; I'm kind of disappointed that didn't happen, honestly.

because of that thought process i had while playing, I designed Ewen from the beginning to want to die. only agreeing to be alive to get revenge on for indignity they suffered for their execution. I eventually expanded on the how's and whys, but that was always the starting point. Their attachment to narinder, along with the self worth that comes from being needed (even as a tool) was the only thing that gave them a drive to keep living, and the only reason they refused to give up the crown. If u wanna get all narrative fancy, I try to tie that back around to when they rescue their siblings, despite the fact that they think they'll take narinder away from them. That's the point when their completely selfish need for them becomes less "I'm going to do whatever it costs to keep him here to make me happy" to "I'm going to do whatever it costs to make him happy, even if it might take him away from me" love. which, of course, is terrifying lol. and then brings it back around to "his selfish need to do whatever it costs to keep me with him has to make me acknowledge I am worth love and he won't leave me" in a double fucked up way.

[worstloki]

Loki: Commonplace synthetic materials are not breathable, nor are they sustainable for your planet.

Steve, looking morosely at what is clearly a donned battle outfit: I want to agree with you, I really do.

I actually think it would be so funny if Thor adapted to Midgardian clothing and such, wearing t-shirts and jeans and after Asgardians start settling on Earth that's generally what has to happen. But Loki keeps wearing his complicated leathery Asgardian clothing for the apparent sole purpose of jump-scaring any visitors to New Asgard

[solarismoons]

Astronomy (prologue)

‘It’s astronomy, we’re two worlds apart’

Wally Clark x fem!reader

Summary: After suffering a near-fatal fall off the school roof, you started seeing things that weren’t actually there. Or- people who weren’t actually there.

Warnings: mentions of suicide, addiction, drugs, lots of angst.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Your legs dangled off the roof, the moon's dim light illuminating the grass below. Tears filled your waterline and your eyebrows pulled together. Silent sobs filled the night air, getting lost in the whispers of the wind.

There was no sugarcoating it, no easy way to say it–Your life fucking sucked. Drugged out Dad, your Mom out of the picture, the whole nine yards. If your life were a shitty low-budget movie, you and Nicole would’ve laughed at the lazy plot of it all.

Nicole.

The poison of her name ran through your veins and tore a hole through your heart. You’d grown up with her, she was there through your worst moments, and you were there for hers. But when you hit middle school, it wasn’t you and her against the world. It was always Maddie.

Maddie. Maddie. Maddie.

You truly had nothing against her. You had nothing against her, or Simon, or even Xavier of all fucking people. But everything in the past few years was always about her. The two of you were simply friends by extension. Two separate people pushed into the same friend group. But still, it seemed like the whole world revolved around her.

Nicole always had an obsession with Maddie. What she ate, what she wore, how she decorated her locker…Down to how she fucking spoke. Nicole copied every. Single. Part of her. You never knew if she wanted her, or if she wanted to be her. Whatever it was, it drew you two apart. You slowly started losing your best friend.

The pain and loneliness was beginning to be too much. You felt so suffocatingly alone, the only person you could confide in being lost in a la-la land of infatuation.

So, you found yourself on top of the school roof at 2 in the morning. It wasn’t high enough to die. Maybe high enough to make you hurt. High enough so someone would actually care for you. The thought of jumping crossed your mind- just for a split second. It was a fleeting thought, soaring quickly through your head like a turbojet.

Tears began to spill harder, gushing out of your eyes like a fountain. Your sobs became louder. You grounded the meat of your palms into your eyes, desperate to stop the tsunami from streaming down your face.

Behind you, words faded in and out of the breeze, and heavy whispers echoed across the silent roof.

“Is… she…”

“I….do- know…”

It was bits and pieces of phrases you shouldn’t have been hearing. Phrases that broke through the barrier of life and death itself. You didn’t know it at the time, though. Still, you whipped your head around, your lip quivering just slightly. Shadows faded in and out across the roof, the air seemingly moving in the wrong direction.

Your sobbing quickly died down, and you squinted, your head beginning to swim with confusion. The shadows shifted in and out of reality, almost. You would not have noticed them if you hadn’t been looking so meticulously.

The phantom-like whispers snuck closer as if reaching out for you. Your heart began to pick up speed, beating against your chest painfully. Breath hitching in your throat, you hastily stood up. Palms slick with sweat, goosebumps bursting across your skin, legs trembling, you yelled out, begging them to stop.

You couldn’t comprehend the gravity of your situation, couldn’t comprehend what the hell you were seeing. You took a step back, your heel hooking on the lip of the roof. Gravity took control, yanking you down over the edge.

The last thing you saw was a large hand stretching out towards you.

────────────

Wally loomed over you, his head tilted. Eyebrows knitted together with concern, he glanced over to Rhonda and Charley, who seemed oddly standoffish.

“Is… Is she okay?” He questioned.

Rhonda rolled her cherry lollipop against her cheek, “I don’t know Moose, maybe she’s just sleeping?”

Wally narrowed his eyes at her. Why couldn't she understand the urgency of the situation? Here was a girl, lying half-dead on school property with a puddle of blood pooling beneath her head.

“What if she dies?” Wally slid his hands into his pockets, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. His teeth sunk into the plush skin.

Charley frowned, wringing his hands together. “I mean… We can’t really do anything, Wally,” He reasoned. Wally knew he was right. If you died, you died. He couldn’t stop it. But it didn’t stop him from feeling any less awful. He felt… Drawn to you–in some incomprehensible way.

The group whipped their heads back down to you when you stirred. A soft groan escaped your lips. They watched with bated breath as you brought a shaky hand to the back of your head. You pulled your fingers back to your eye line, your pupils dilating at the smear of crimson.

The back of your skull throbbed with a searing, blinding pain that drew out another groan. You scrunched your eyelids together, fuzzy dots crowding your vision. At the same time, Wally crouched down next to you, fingers sprawled out on the soft grass.

Soft earth rustled beneath the soles of Rhonda’s boots as she turned on her heel. Charley glanced at you, then at Wally, then back at Rhonda. Confliction flashed across his soft features. As bad as he felt, there was nothing he could physically do.

“We should probably go,” Charley grumbled.

Still, Wally looked back down at you. He brought his fingers a feather’s touch away from your jaw before drawing them back. As much as he wanted to reach out to you, to help you, he couldn’t. He sat back on his haunches and took one last look at your pretty face.

Charley and Rhonda were halfway across the field when your eyes slowly cracked open. Wally’s eyes widened as you looked at him. Your eyes didn’t look through him. They looked at him. Your gaze pierced through the noise of the wind around you. It locked onto him with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn’t possible. You were living. Breathing. Your soul was still tied to the land of the living. You still had a fucking pulse, a heartbeat.

“What the fuck…” He whispered.

You don’t remember what happened next. Only that you scrambled up, despite the agony in your head and the strain in your bones, and found yourself at home just minutes later, shoes caked in mud.

You don’t know what the fuck you thought you saw. It was a hallucination. Your brain had conjured his image up, projected him in front of you. You fell off the roof, for fucks sake.

Still, your eyes glided over to a picture on the wall of your living room. In it, stood your dad and his high school best friend--Who died 40 years ago.

[imconfusedbutok]

Sigh the Sonic brain rot is taking over…. Heres some thoughts I have for a swapped version of shadow and Maria where she’s the one that survives

Just imagine a shadow that claims he can never die, nothing can hurt him and he’s reassuring a crying Maria that he’ll come back for her

GUN agents are pounding on the door they locked and Maria is begging, *pleading* with Shadow to please, please just go with her they can both be safe together she doesn’t want him to die

A sad smile from shadow and his reassuring words sooth her. But only a little

A shove so hard it snaps her arm is what she gets the second GUN breaks down that door. She slams into the glass wall, gasping in pain and falling to the ground.

Before she knows it the glass is closing around her and Shadow is slamming his fist onto the button

Her poor 12 year old brain can’t take it, she barely recognizes what’s happening as GUN starts shooting at shadow

But she can see the blood as it hits the glass of her escape pod and she can see his body get jerked around by dozens of bullets before it falls to the ground, stiff and lifeless

She suffers from severe PTSD, of course she does. Nightmares and a strong fear of tight spaces. She can no longer stand the sight of blood and is suddenly very, very afraid of the dark

Imagine a Maria so heartbroken that humanity could do this. Kill her only family. They killed Shadow, an innocent being, right in front of her eyes and she couldn’t do anything about it

Her arm never heals back right and serves as a reminder of the trauma she faced. She never wants it to heal back properly which leads to her breaking her arm herself because it’s the last way he touched her

She begins to wonder. Is this worth it? Is humanity worth it? Was anything worth it?

Is humanity worth saving?

Imagine a Maria turned cold. 19 hear old blonde girl with eyes as blue as the deepest parts of the ocean and a heart colder than space itself

A Maria that is set out to destroy humanity. A Maria that had everything taken from her by the people she trusted most and now she can never forgive them

She sees Sonic and freezes. She can’t see his colours the first time she sees him— he’s blocked out by a bright light from behind him and all of a sudden everything comes rushing back to her

So she tries to kill the faker because she can’t bear to lose herself again

Sigh…. I love shadow and Maria… the babies… the children…

[caesariawritesstuff]

After reading your amazing work Learning to Share, this idea got stuck in my head. Edward and Jonathan get jealous when another man shows interest in the detective. I would die if you wrote something like that🥺🥺🥺

Payne & Suffering

Summary: When a new man comes on the scene at the GCPD, Edward and Jonathan find themselves with fierce competition.

Word Count: 3.8k

Content Warning: Angst, jealousy, possessive behavior. Spoilers for the end of Arc I of Cat & Mouse.

A/N: Once again, my dear @vas17sblog, I must apologize for this request taking so long. I'm literally the worst. BUT a few days ago I asked if it would be spoilers to include a new character, but surprise! Meet David Payne. I hope you all love him as much as I do.

Edward’s fingers raced across the keys. A greenish glow from the computer cast along his face, reflecting in the frames of his glasses. His lips pressed into a thin line, frustration pounding at his temples. There was never a dull moment in the GCPD, was there? He’d been hunched over his desk for three hours now, working tirelessly on coding and processing systems. He needed to get his work done – the quicker, the better. He was itching to get out of here and end his workday. He just wanted to be back at your apartment with you, enjoying his evening.

“Nigma!” a voice said. Loud, gruff, calling him from the other room.

Edward perked up. Cash’s voice boomed throughout the Homicide Division’s floor. Sighing, irritation prickled across his skin as he stood from his seat, heading out of his office. Why was Cash calling him? He hadn’t done anything wrong, had he? No, of course not. He’d been on his best behavior for weeks now. He made his way through the bullpen, his gaze straying for just a moment towards your desk – which was empty, alongside Mack’s. The two of you were currently off investigating another case. It would probably be a few hours before you returned. Turning his attention back to Cash, he entered Cash’s office, but surprise rippled through him when he saw another man sitting at the desk, across from the Commissioner.

The man immediately looked up and turned to him, quickly standing. He had broad shoulders and quite the handsome face: bright blue eyes the color of the sky, a chiseled jaw, blonde hair neat and cut short. He looked like a model out of a men’s cologne ad, and he even smelled of patchouli, oud, and amber and iris.

“Nigma,” Cash said. “I want you to meet Sergeant David Payne. Payne, this is Edward Nigma.” His voice was filled with a strange, comfortable lightness.

“Ah, Mr. Nigma,” David said, extending his hand. “I’ve heard quite a lot about you. You’re quite the name around here.”

Edward didn’t shake his hand. Instead, his eyes narrowed into slits as he frowned, studying the far too-handsome man in front of him. He wore a pair of blue slacks and a white button down with a matching blue-and-gold tie. An expensive, leather watch was around his left wrist, the face of the watch a crystal clear, reflective surface.

“Nigma,” Cash said, clearing his throat. “I know we’ve had Rollins filling in as your handler for a few weeks while we get someone else to fill the position, and that’s where Sergeant Payne comes in. He’ll be taking over the role of your handler.”

Edward’s frown deepened. Sergeant Payne? More like a pain in his ass. He bristled, but forced his best smile onto his face, determined to make the best impression he could.

“Well,” Edward said. “I’m sure you’re more than qualified for the job.” Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why a man like Payne would want this job at all.

“I’m looking forward to work together,” David said.

“Likewise,” Edward muttered, his smile growing tight-lipped and forced. He’d always known Mack wouldn’t remain his handler forever, but still, he wasn’t expecting this.

Cash looked between them, his nostrils flaring, as if he could sense the tension between them. “Payne will reach out to you later. I’m currently getting him debriefed on our precinct.”

“Yes,” David said. “I’ll be seeing you later, eh, Ed?”

Edward lips turned downward. He didn’t like being called “Ed”, especially by a man he did not know. Oh, not one bit. His brow twitched as irritation prickled across his skin.

“Edward,” he said a second later.

“Hm?” David asked.

“It’s Edward,” he said again, a little more forcibly this time.

“Right. Sorry,” David said. “Well, we’ll touch base later.”

Edward nodded, and quickly left the room, feeling less than dismissed. Agitation grew inn his belly, like a wildfire coursing through his veins. His gaze strayed back to your empty desk; he wished you were back, so he could complain all about Payne. Alas, he’d have to wait, even though his patience was growing thin. He returned to his office and collapsed into the nearby chair, defeat settling over his bones. Slipping his phone from his pocket, he sent you a quick text: What can’t you have for breakfast or dinner?

Your response came five minutes later: I’m having lunch with Jonathan.

Edward frowned. Dammit, Crane was always getting in the way. It had been a few weeks since the little incident back at the museum when he agreed to share you. A decision he was still questioning if it was the right one, but still, he was growing antsy.

Well, I’ll just have to join you, he sent back.

Don’t get mad if Jon is jealous, you replied.

Edward smirked. He could handle Crane. Setting his phone aside, he got back to work. Work, which really meant he was going to snoop into David Payne’s life. His fingers raced across the keys as he began prying into everything he could learn about Payne: the man was thirty-six, born and raised in Gotham. Both parents passed away years ago. Had a younger sister. Apparently, the man had quite the colorful career: he’d received several Community Engagement awards, two Lifesaving Medals, and a Silver Star for Bravery. He had a reputation for risking his life and protecting the innocent, no matter the cause. Several years ago, he moved to Metropolis, running his own department in the Gang Intelligence Unit. He was involved in several undercover operations and single-handedly took down three gangs in the city. Well, he certainly had a lot going for him, but Edward wondered why he would leave Metropolis and move back to Gotham. Why would he give up such a decorative career to come back here?

That was the question Edward found himself asking as he returned to work. It was just around one o’clock when he finally emerged from his office. His gaze immediately landed on your empty desk, but Mack was sitting at his, hunched over a series of folders piled up in front of him. He frowned, concern flashing through him.

“She’s in the break room,” Mack said, as if sensing what he was going to ask.

“Thanks.” Edward turned on his heels and headed that way, excited knots twisting in his stomach. It had been hours since he’d seen you, and he was growing desperate to look into your eyes, to hear your voice, but as he approached the break room, familiar, soft laughter filled his ears. Laughter he recognized as your own, that made his insides do a thousand flips. Crane, he thought. He must be in there now. But as Edward entered the room – he realized it wasn’t Crane at all. It was David Payne.

David was standing beside the table you sat at, his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the wall in a sort of suave, cool guy pose that made Edward frown. You were leaning forward slightly, cleavage peaking out of your blouse, giving David quite the view. A light flush was across your cheeks, your eyes bright and shining in a way Edward hadn’t seen in weeks. It had been quite some time since Edward had seen you look so…alive. So carefree. So much brighter and filled with a lightness that he hadn’t seen from you in so long. Edward stepped into the room and cleared his throat. David lifted his gaze to him, and you turned your attention, your eyes focusing on him.

“Oh, hey,” you said, pursing your lips as if to contain a smile.

“I thought we were having lunch together?” Edward asked.

“We are,” you said, shifting in your seat. “But have you met David? David, this is my boyfriend, Edward Nigma.”

“We’ve met,” Edward mumbled.

“I’ve actually taken the position as Nigma’s handler,” David said.

“Oh – wait, really? You didn’t mention that,” you said, looking taken aback as you glanced between them, your eyes growing wide with concern.

David shrugged, a smile curving at the edge of his lips. He was too handsome, too devilish for Edward’s liking, and he couldn’t help but notice how the flush darkened on your cheeks.

“We were getting so caught up. I didn’t want to ruin the moment,” David said.

“The…moment?” Edward asked. A thousand questions spun through his mind. What moment had he walked in on? Why were you looking so captivated by David’s mere presence?

“David was one of my instructors at the police academy,” you explained.

“Oh.” Oh. Edward frowned harder, his hands curling into fists. Now it made sense: why the two of you seemed so familiar, so…close. In a way that Edward did not like. It certainly seemed more than that. Perhaps you’d once had a crush on him. He certainly had a swoon-worthy face, capable of making any girl melt.

You shifted uncomfortably as an awkward silence filled the room. “David just moved back to Gotham from Metropolis,” you said..

“So I’ve heard,” Edward said.

“I take it you looked into me already?” David asked, smirking.

“Call it natural curiosity to learn just who’s going to be taking over my handler duties,” Edward replied, matching his smirk, puffing out his chest a little more.

“I don’t blame you,” David said. “I’d be curious, too. But I have nothing to hide, Nigma. There aren’t any skeletons in my closet.”

Edward sincerely doubted that, but his smirk only grew. “Then we’ll get along, won’t we, Payne?” Pain in my ass, he thought.

“Am I interrupting something?” another voice suddenly asked. Cool, cold, calculated – the voice of Jonathan crane. Edward turned to find him standing there, his eyes narrowing. He wore a pair of brown slacks and a white button down with a brown vest, a bolo tie hanging around his neck that looked strangely like a noose.

“Nothing at all,” David said. “Dr. Crane, I presume? I’m David Payne. I’ll be taking over as Nigma’s handler.”

“A job I’m sure you’ll regret soon enough,” Jonathan said, looking around at the scene. The tension in the room was thick, suffocating; Edward could feel it prickling through the air like dry lightning.

David laughed at that, his shoulders shaking with the movement. “I think Nigma and I are going to get along just fine. I have my fair share of experienced with egomaniacs.”

Edward quirked a brow. “None like me, I’m sure.” His smirk widened.

David’s eyes narrowed, studying the two of them. He smirked in return, before pushing off the wall. His gaze dropped to you, his eyes filling with lightness.

You turned your attention back to Edward and Jonathan. “David was actually my instructor at the police academy. That’s how we know each other.”

Edward bristled, jealousy coiling in his stomach like a writhing snake. Beside him, he felt Crane stiffen, as if he, too, was catching the same jealousy. Suspicion crept into his bones, making the hairs on the back of Edward’s neck stand on end.

“Well,” David said. “I’ll leave you to your lunch. See you around, princess.” As he said it, he gave your shoulder a soft squeeze.

Edward immediately saw red. You flushed, a soft smile curving at the edge of your lips, as David nodded to him and Crane and headed out of the room. Another man touching you? You? And calling you princess? He didn’t like this – not one bit. How close you were to David, the flush to your cheeks, the look in your eyes…oh, he did not like this. And now, he couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes followed David as he left the room, before flicking back to them.

“Princess?” Edward muttered, quickly taking the seat across from you.

You blinked, straightening your shoulders. “Oh, it’s nothing. David just used to call me that back in the academy.”

“Then why are you blushing, pet?” Crane asked, his voice holding a smooth, controlled tone. He took the seat beside Edward, sitting straight up, hands resting on his knees.

“What? No, I’m not,” you stuttered, brushing a lock of hair behind your hair in that nervous way you always did. You looked between them with wide, uncertain eyes.

“You’re signs of attraction are clearly evident,” Crane continued. His voice was level, but Edward could detect a hint of jealousy within his tone.

It was your turn to bristle, your gaze dropping to the table. You pursed your lips into a thin line, avoiding both of their gazes. “David and I have…history. Okay? That’s it?”

“What kind of history?” Edward asked. He needed his curiosity sated.

The blush darkened on your cheeks. “Um…the inappropriate kind where I kind of slept with my teacher?” you said, though your voice was soft and meek, embarrassed.

Edward went very quiet and still for a long moment as he tried to process just what you said. The same man you had a history with was now his own handler, now going to be a thorn in his side, a pain in his ass here at the GCPD. Well, this was not a development he expected today.

“Oh,” Edward said, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Crane leaned back in his seat, lifting his chin slightly. “That’s more than inappropriate, pet. Were you planning on keeping this information from us?”

“Well, I was never expecting to see David again, so yes,” you replied. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. We just slept together. There’s nothing more to it than that.”

“And yet, you allow him to call you pet names and linger far too close,” Crane continued.

You bristled again, shifting in your seat. Edward watched as Crane’s eyes narrowed into slits, how he kept a close eye on your every move, as if your body language would give away how you were feeling. But you only pulled your eyes from him and looked down at your nails.

“You’re both overreacting,” you muttered.

“Oh, I assure you, detective, this is far from overreacting,” Edward grumbled. Jealousy continued to twist in his stomach. He did not like knowing another man slept with you. Of course, he wasn’t an idiot – he knew you weren’t a virgin. But still, the very idea of you giving your body to another man or woman burned an angry fire in his belly.

He saw Payne for exactly what he was: competition. Another man practically staking his claim over you? No, no way was he going to allow that to happen. Sharing you with Crane was bad enough as is.

You shot him a look, before your hand reached out to touch his own, your fingers soft and rough against his knuckles. “Neither of you need to worry,” you said. “I promise.”

Edward exchanged a look with Crane. But the man’s posture was stiff, his eyes uncertain; he was certainly doing a better job of hiding his own jealousy. Keeping it under a tight grip of cold control, not daring to show it. Edward leaned back in his seat, frowning.

“Both of you are insufferable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes. “You need to behave.”

“Demanding things now, pet?” Crane asked.

“Yes, I am. Now, can we get lunch? I’m starving,” you said.

Edward nodded, but uncertainty continued to brew in his stomach. The day passed without seeing much of David, and soon, the days began to bleed into nights. Edward and Jonathan both kept their eyes on you, but as Edward soon discovered, David really was turning into a pain in his ass. David was not only a stickler for the rules, but he also had a strict set of rules for Edward to follow, too, which including needing to sign in and out of every shift, and have David confirm he’d even been here in the precinct at all. His ankle monitor needed to be checked every night before he left, to ensure it hadn’t been tampered with, and David instructed Edward to keep a detailed record of all the work he did every day. So, yes, Edward was truly experiencing his own pain and suffering with David at the helm as his handler. You had never been so strict, but of course, considering the nature of your relationship with him, you would never be able to be his handler again. Edward would gladly take Mack back any day, too. But, Edward supposed he couldn’t complain; you were his girlfriend, after all. Even if the last few weeks had been hell for the both of you.

As the days passed, however, Edward began to notice things that bothered him about David and the way he hung around you. He often stood too close, and Edward caught you and him laughing about something from your police academy days more than once. It brewed a dark jealousy within Edward’s stomach, especially now, as his gaze remained fixed on the both of you out in the bullpen, talking. You were sitting at your desk as he stood beside you, his arms crossed over his chest. Your cheeks had that familia flush to them, your eyes bright and shining. Edward couldn’t take his eyes off the sight, too glued to what he was seeing to stop himself. He’d been on his way back from the bathroom when he saw the scene, and now, he stood nearby, out of sight, his feet planted on the floor.

“So,” David was saying. “How are things going? You know I’m more than happy to help you with your cases.”

“That’s sweet of you to offer,” you said. “But I’ve got it covered.”

He nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly, lips curving upwards. “Look at you. All grown up detective. Still thinking of running your own department one day?”

That seemed to make you pause, your eyes cast downward, the flush disappearing from your cheeks. “I don’t really know anymore,” you said.

Edward frowned. You’d never mentioned wanting to run your own department before, but his heart skipped a furious beat. He didn’t like when you didn’t share things with him. It irritated him more than he wanted it do. The very idea of you shutting him out aggravated him.

“Well,” David said. “I know you’ve got it in you. You always strived for bigger things. Better things.”

There was something in David’s voice that Edward didn’t like, as if he was thinking that he was so much better for you. Edward didn’t like this, not one bit. No one was better for you than him. He was the only one worthy of your attention and devotion…wasn’t he? Besides, what did the hulking brute have going for him, anyways? Besides being ridiculously good looking and having been awarded numerous medals, but still. Well, let’s see how he handled Gotham. The bumbling, hulking idiot.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat. “Thanks for the offer, David. I’ll let you know if I need any help.”

“Anytime, princess,” he replied, pushing off the wall, but he paused. His gaze fell on you, lingering much too long. “Do you want to get coffee after work?”

You blinked, taken aback, and a red haze filled Edward’s vision as he waited with bated breath. Anger rushed through his veins like hot wildfire. Please say no, please say no, he begged.

“We can catch up,” David said, almost a quiet plea.

You wee quiet for a moment, but you finally said, “Sure. I’d like that.”

The red haze in Edward’s eyes darkened as jealousy twisted in his stomach like a hot knife. He couldn’t believe this, that you would say yes to that bumbling idiot. It was egregious. Outrageous! How could you even think of getting coffee with another man? Scowling, Edward turned on his heels and stormed into the elevator, taking it all the way down to the bottom level for forensics. As soon as it opened, he walked with large strides, heart hammering against his ribcage, as he strolled into Crane’s office, only to find the man surrounded by beakers and chemicals alike, his gaze steely with hardened focus.

“She’s getting coffee with him,” Edward immediately balked out. “With him! Can you believe that?” He didn’t even bother to keep his voice down, didn’t care who heard.

Crane lifted his eyes to him, frowning. “With Payne?”

Edward nodded. He sucked in a breath, running a hand through his hair, trying to put a tamper down on his anger, bubbling and boiling over. “This is outrageous,” he muttered.

Crane was quiet for a moment, before setting aside the notepad in his hands. He pushed up his glasses farther onto the bridge of his nose. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” Edward mumbled. It wasn’t like he could do anything. “Payne said he didn’t have any skeletons in his closet, but I’m sure he does. No one is that innocent. I’m sure I can find something to get him fired.”

“Careful, Edward,” Crane said, peering at him. “No need to get yourself into trouble.”

Edward scoffed out a laugh. “Easy for you to say, Crane. Aren’t you jealous of him?”

Crane didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His silence was enough.

Edward frowned, turning away, grinding his teeth together until they ached. His heart pained in his chest like it was being squeezed by a fist. It hurt, knowing you were going to have coffee with another man who wasn’t him. He adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and turned back, frowning harder, studying Crane, who gazed at him with a cold curiosity.

“Your jealousy is written all over your face,” Crane said.

Edward bristled, feeling heat creeping up his throat. “I hate him,” he whispered. He didn’t even know Payne, didn’t care to. Edward just knew he hated him already.

“You’re afraid she’s going to leave you for him?” Crane asked.

“Of course I am!” Edward muttered, louder than he intended. “Here he comes in, with his stupid smug smile and dumb face, acting like he can control me and take her from me? Well, not a chance. I won’t let it happen. I refuse to let it happen.”

Edward wouldn’t lose you. He refused to.

He refused to let Payne take you from him, and he would do anything he needed to keep that from happening. Crane smirked, his scarred lips turning upwards.

“Then we at least seem to be in agreement,” Crane said, glancing back down at the vials and chemicals laid out before him.

Edward nodded, his eyes narrowing. So it seemed Crane wasn’t willing to share you with Payne or anyone else as well. Edward lifted his chin slightly, studying the man before him, as his insides churned with a sick satisfaction. Oh no. Edward would not let you go at all, and if Crane was willing to help keep you at his side, at both of their sides…Edward could live with that.

For now.

He could deal with all of the pain and suffering Payne thrust upon him as long as he didn’t lose you. Edward wouldn’t lose you – he never would.

Not for as long as he lived.

[bestworstcase]

[Same anon who was talking about when Salem will find out the truth abt Ozmas curse] yknow, thinking of the Ozma-Salem reconciliation, I'm curious about what will happen when everything is over. Specifically I'm curious on if they'll stay immortal or if they'll choose to become mortal again? Being honest, I could see Salem choosing to stay immortal, probably turning what was used to harm her into something she owns (if she hasn't already tbh). I'm... less sure about Oz? I could see him wanting to, but how he reincarnates is... definitely a problem considering it's identity issues if it were a form of immortality lmfao.

Of course, this depends on them getting that choice in the first place, but I feel like it wouldn't be satisfying if they didn't, though i have no idea how they would get it (i doubt Light would budge, Darkness is probably Ascended, and i theorize Light will ascend and become human, sooo...), unless the Tree has that ability? No idea. I do think Oz will Ascend so maybe that'll be addressed then if that happens (note: if he Ascends, I personally think it'd be fun if he came out a faunus/snake faunus. It's not really a theory, just smth I'd do if I were writing RWBY, and the chances of that happening are pretty slim, IF he ascends at all lol. So it's more a self indulgent thought than a real theory).

Do you have any thoughts on whether or not they'll stay immortal, or both become mortal? It's pure speculation, but that's what makes it fun :P

(BTW I wanted to see if you were doing okay, if you're willing to answer? You disappear sometimes and idk if that's normal or not. Hope you're doing good!)

-🌙 <- for if I decide to send more asks

(yeah i'm doing fine. just busy irl)

anyway—prior to v9 i would have said definitely they both wind up mortal again, but then v9 threw its curveball of overtly questioning the premise that everything must die. immortality for ozlem has hitherto been framed strictly as a curse, because ozma sees it that way; i think it remains to be seen whether salem feels the same, because:

a) "if she were to turn humanity against Light and Darkness, she could rid herself of their curse, or at the very least… she could make them suffer." <- even before her rebellion, salem had begun to accept the possibility that she might never be able to make herself mortal again if she defied the brothers, and she made a deliberate decision to fight back anyway.

b) it has been so long that i have to imagine it is hard for her to even conceive of dying as a real possibility anymore? so even if she theoretically would welcome the chance to die i'm skeptical that it's more than a "what if the world was made of pudding?" type of nonsense hypothetical in her mind. 

and c) everything points to "salem wants to change the world" being the correct view, with salem herself envisioning a "new world"—and in the event that is true, salem isn't suicidal full stop.

the thing that makes her immortality a curse has always been isolation and exile, neither of which are innately because she's immortal. indeed the very first thing salem used her immortality to do once she decided to live was connect with people and build a coalition. the reason for her exile in the present is not her immortality per se but the fairytale narrative construing her as the Great Evil. becoming mortal again won't materially change those circumstances. 

ozma is in a different boat because, as you note, his form of immortality is bad per se—fatal to his hosts and torturous for him. we have however seen that a living soul without a body will just manifest a new body, both on remnant (penny) and in the ever after (ruby isn't just magically healed in the tree—her whole self is remade, hence the burning rose returns to her in the end—she's disembodied and remakes herself). so the immediate concern with oscar and ozma is to divide their souls, and i think there are a few of possibilities as to how:

literal ascension via the tree

the sword of destruction

silver eyes as the mirror revealing what is true (two, not one)

salem

some combination of 2-4.

from that point the crucial question is whether separating ozma and restoring him to his own body oncedoes or doesn't break his cursed reincarnation forever. if it doesn't (or if he isn't willing to take the risk that it doesn't) then… frankly the simplest and surest way to put an end to ozma reincarnating as a parasite forever is to make him immortal the way salem is immortal. if his soul can't die, he can't be bound to another by light's curse. it is death that empowers his curse. 

so to take away what gives light power over ozma, give ozma infinite life. right? 

which… i mean, the well of creation gave salem infinite life; she hoped that the pool of grimm would take it away; take from an infinite quantity, an infinite quantity remains; this force of pure destruction could not destroy, so it created… it's possible for two souls to be bound together as one and it's possible for one soul to be divided into two. the possibility of salem dividing her infinite life in order to share it with ozma isn't exactly a leap.

certainly i wouldn't rule out a straightforward ascension through the tree being the answer—it is kind of the obvious course—but i've been rolling dark's parting words to salem around in my mind a lot since v9. "still making demands of your creators?"

that rebellion ended in crushing defeat because they tried to fight back with the gifts the brothers gave them—power that did not in truth belong to humanity, because those gifts were not freely given. this is a lesson salem took to heart, hence her insinuation (in WOR) of aura/semblances being much greaterthan mere magic, cinder using grimm (a kind of power salem claimed for herself after the brothers abandoned it) to mediate her inheritance of the fall maiden (a mere remnant of god-given power bequeathed to modern humans by light's champion, which salem has repeatedly warned cinder to be cautious of), and her recent experiment with combining silver eyes with grimm. 

presuming salem is involved in the separation and breaking of ozma's curse at all, i think it's deeply unlikely she would be willing to trust the tree to just fix everything; i think there's a not-insignificant possibility that she has met the blacksmith herself before and may be factoring what she knows about the tree and/or the brothers' history into her plans, but if so it would be more on the level of knowing the brothers are finite and broken, not expecting the tree to save her. 

(sidebar: there's an expectation across a lot of the fandom now that the brothers can/will be 'defeated' by tagging in the blacksmith to scold them for being naughty, and that is just… not going to happen. lol. the blacksmith makes it crystal clear that neither she nor the tree can or will intervene, and while the brothers need to ascend and that's the obvious outcome the narrative is moving toward now, convincing light [and dark if he's still around] to do it is a problem remnant's people are going to need to figure out for themselves. also the fandom-wide treatment of the brothers as spoiled little boys who just need mom to scold them is both inane and, frankly, misogynistic—because "well, the brothers are petty assholes but salem is just a spoiled bitch throwing a tantrum because they didn't give her what she wanted, and actually all her problems are self-inflicted" is an outrageous position to hold about a woman hating the genocidal monsters who murdered an entire planet to spite her. and then the cherry on top is anticipating that the conflict will be solved by way of "mommy" swooping in to clean up the mess her silly boys made. come the fuck on.) 

anyway, i figure salem will be stridently in the camp of "no, we need to forge our own path." ozma, likewise, i can only imagine feeling extremely dubious of just putting his life into the hands of any god after what light did to him—let alone a god who is completely unknown to him. if he and salem think there is even the smallest chance that the two of them can break his curse by working together without divine intervention, i… think that will be Plan A for sure. after all, THIS is how ozpin closes out 'fairytales of remnant':

One interpretation of this story focuses on the fact that the people caused the problem in the first place. But in my view, it is only natural for us to want to bring more light into the world and “reach for the sun.” And on the brighter side, if you’ll excuse the pun, people were also part of the solution. They not only replaced the sun, a celestial gift from the all-powerful God of Light, but also improved upon it through their own ingenuity. Most importantly, they could not have accomplished this magnificent, godly feat without uniting for a common purpose in a way they never had before. The world once was divided between day and night, light and darkness, but by coming together, and overcoming their inherent jealousy and resentment, people made the darkness just a little bit brighter for all.

a parable about humanity claiming the powers of their creators to perfect their own design; a parable about the world coming together to replace their divine gifts, and in doing so create a better world in divinity's absence. like i'm always saying, ozma's zealotry is grounded in fear—in his terrified certainty that the brothers are all-powerful forces of nature who cannot be fought—but the world salem aspires to create is the one he dreams of too, in his heart of hearts. 

as for oz becoming a faunus—i honestly would not be surprised if he did? both thematically (the faunus in the myth are liberated through transformation into their true inner selves -> ozma must be liberated from oscar through transformation into his true self; the faunus mythically participate in their own creation and in doing so free themselves to choose their own destinies, making faunus the symbolic if not literal triumph of salem's rebellion) and, if i'm correct about faunus having been created by salem's transformation in the pool of grimm, also mechanically (in that event she would be the literal god of animals and manifestation of animal-like features representing the inner self follows the metamorphic pattern she created, so if it's predominately her magic mediating ozma's transformation/restoration then it would follow for him to become a faunus.)

but if he does, i think what he'll end up with is an avian trait—like trust love ("if you could only open up a door/spread your wings and fly away from here/write yourself into a fairytale/all your problems would just disappear") and sacrifice ("born an angel, heaven-sent/falls from grace are never elegant") both pretty explicitly, in opposite ways, equate wings with ozma's freedom. (hi @st-whalefall i see you.) and then there's the way ozma describes the branwens' bird forms: "Using this power, I was able to gift the Branwen twins the ability to "see" more, to move freely and be unburdened by their natural bodies. I... well... gave them the ability to turn into birds." <- freedom, unburdening, and clearer sight. IF ozma becoming a faunus through breaking his curse is in the cards, i would think this is pretty blunt foreshadowing. 

and if it isn't—well, it's symbolic and might well remain symbolic but another thought i've been rolling around for a while is ozma finding some way of separating himself from oscar as a bird. they're fighting this curse together now; the curse is fighting back, and with the kids returned from the ever after, oscar and oz are going to be hearing about ascension and afteran magic and—maybe, depending on how detailed team rwby is in their account—about "you could just be human, or just a cat, if you wanted." 

in one myth, faunus are created by the combination of sapient animals and human beings—through, it might be said, the merger of two souls into a singular new being. blake, in v1, is reading a novel about a man with two souls, fighting for control over his body. ozma loves stories, myths, fairytales—relies onstories to make sense of himself and his life. his curse is a false, corrupted form of ascension, and when blake looked at herself in the tree's mirror, it asked "are you complete? do you wish to return human-and-animal, separated?"

for blake, that was the tree's gentle way of confronting her with her past self-hatred, to help her see and crystallize how much she's grown from being that terrified girl who secretly wished she could just be human. but think about how oz and oscar might take that story. 

oscar doesn't like using magic because it makes the merge faster. long ago, ozma carved out his divinely-given magic and created the maidens in hope of sparing his hosts, but the magic of his curse remains. he can't sever himself from his hosts, and fighting the curse outright causes it to lash out and hurt them both. but ozma also did *something* to grant the branwens shapeshifting; either he really did draw on his own curse to do that, or else he used the crown of choice to make it so. either way… the curse keeps trying to force him forward. force him to come out. 

in the lost fable, the final outcome of his curse is at least represented by something like a haunting—ozma sees his other-self watching him from outside of himself. this may or may not be literal in the sense of what ozma experiences, but the idea of 'one soul in the body, one soul outside' is narratively in play. and ozma was able to seal himself off from oscar in a way that does seem to have altered the nature of their connection, or at least created room for oscar to reclaim his individuality. 

so what happens if ozma gathers all the magic and throws his will behind the curse's attempts to shove him forward, instead of against, with the specific purpose of manifesting himself in some physical form outside of oscar's head, drawing on old myths about faunus being similarly two-in-one that blake's account of the ever after seems to corroborate as having a kernel of truth? 

like—why not try something weird and out of the box? what have they got to lose? if it doesn't work then they're back to square one of grappling with the curse, and if it does then not only have they figured out a new way to give oscar some room to breathe but ozma emerging as a bird with a psychic connection to oscar would be real fucking helpful for the coalition as a spy/scout. 

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[tariah23]

The manga industry, especially JUMP, needs to hurry up and do away with weekly scheduling for mangaka. There needs to better regulations put into place for their health and safety because this is pitiful. Two weeks - monthly updates should’ve already been the standard for the manga industry at this point. These money grabbers will only continue to put the lives of these artists at stake for the sake of capitalism unless some serious changes are implemented.

[palettehao]

I love Mike Wheeler so much I want him to suffer, cry, have a panic attack, several near death experiences, and then kiss the love of his life

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: violence mention / death mention / ]

Will never stop thinking about how Leo, all alone in an endless void and being beaten again and again and again by the only other living thing around, still finds comfort in that space. The situation he was in was completely hopeless, and in any other circumstances he would not have escaped, at least not fast enough to save him from permanent (or even fatal) damage, be it physical or mental.

And yet, despite the bleakness of his situation, despite the agony and helplessness, all he needs is one glance at a crumbled photograph, one glance to remember his family, and that’s enough of a reason for him to smile.

Maybe that’s why his powers center around manipulating space - because no matter how much space is between them, no matter how dire his own situation may be, just the thought of his family, alive and okay, is enough to give Leo hope.

[gratuiciel]

bad toman timeline + text posts

[eastbluecrewed]

things you can't get back

aka i've been waiting so patiently to see kidd get his ass beat by shanks (affectionate)