#I want to write fanfics about him too

[aromanticannibal]

while I see the appeal of izuku calling kacchan katsuki I think if he does katsuki should be allowed to burst into tears immediately

[nandermoenthusiast]

The coffin lands with a crash, Nandor already out of it gracefully as his vampiric nature grants him.

“Have you survived the fall Guillermo, are you allright?” he asks haughtily and with a barely concealed predatory grin at the yelping heap of limbs and clothes that is Guillermo right now. Of course he was never truly worried for his well being, Guillermo might be human, but he is no regular human, if his van Helsing blood has anything to say about that. Nandor just likes to tease.

“Yes master, im fine, i just wasnt prepa-“

Nandor offers him a hand out of the coffin, the way Guillermo has done so many times before for him. Nandor looks at him curiously, Guillermo looks all flustered right now, hes cute. Hes always cute of course, but damn. He hasn’t even realised the obvious parallel yet, just took his hand absent-mindedly as he was rambling about something. His hair is all mussed up too. Cute.

Probably the moment registers into Guillermo’s mind as Nandor hears his muttering protests suddenly cut short. He’s looking at their gingerly intertwined hands and kinda looks like hes about to swallow a frog, or maybe like he’s about to start crying again. This fucking guy. Always a theatrics with him. But Nandor has learned to lean into his little guy’s moods. He leaves him to his maybe horny maybe emotional thoughts and finishes helping him out of the coffin.

The air is thick between them now. He can sort of hear Guillermo’s heartbeat from this distance, the little guy probably has a concert thumping in his ears right now. Nandor enjoys playing with his food, always has, and today is no different. He takes a step closer. Guillermo takes an infinitesimal step back. There is a wall very close to his back. Right where Nandor wanted him.

“You know as i was saying about the cameras, Guillermo…” he starts feign-casual as he very not casually hovers over him, black eyes boring into him with the fire that only very rarely comes out in front of the crew. Guillermo looks like he’s a mixture between disbelieving and like he’s gonna pass out from hyperventilation at a moments notice. It’s an endearing mix.

“Y-yes, you -were saying something about your hair…” Guillermo couldn’t physically look away from Nandor if his life depended on it right now.

“And other reasons”, very seriously.

“- Yeah”, an exhale.

Just look at his eager little eyes. Should he put the guy out of his misery? Well come to think of it, should he put himself out of his own misery? He’s been in love with the guy for the better part of a decade now. Of course he’s not about to say that now. Let him play the part of suave vampire for his Guillermo, let him fullfill any fantasy he’s ever had, at the very least this very first time they do this dance. There will be time for the mushy stuff later. Come to think of it, what is Nandor doing?? Acting on years of pent up sexual and romantic tension, of course, but what is he setting himself up to? Heartbreak.

Violent, earth shattering heartbreak. Maybe not today, maybe not in 10 years, but soon. Soon to a vampire anyway. No- you don’t know that. If Guillermo loves me, he might find a way to not leave me like he always does. He always does leave. But then he also always comes back. Doesn’t he? Nandor loses himself in these thoughts for a moment, and Guillermo seems to notice his mind is suddenly somewhere else.

Oh, to be known so completely. Oh, to have a worthy partner, a partner who knows everything about you, a Lazlo to your Nadja, a Charmaine to your Sean, a Sire to your Baron. And to have to lose it in a matter of years. Just his luck. But also like Colin Robinson said, dont be sad cause its over, smile cause it happened.

Nandor’s eyes keep searching Guillermo’s as he draws closer and closer, eyes intensely registering every microexpression on his beloved’s face, the little crinkle between his brows and the small nervous smile that’s forming around his lips. His hands land seamlessly and delicately on either side of Guillermo’s face, and he feels his breath hitch. He really doesn’t give a flying fuck if he’s gonna suffer for a thousand years, Guillermo is here right now and he looks like he’s gonna break under his touch. One hand goes to cradle his head, thumb delicately swiping over Guillermo’s ear and pulse point, as Nandor brings their noses together and they breathe the same air for a moment. The other hand is held gently across his cheek, just there, a reassuring weight. “I’m going to kiss you now”.

And Nandor kisses him.

[necrotic-nephilim]

this is not a ship post, but something that frustrates me a lot in fanon concerning Jason Todd that attempts to soften Jason's return to Gotham for the sake of found family domesticity or easy hurt/comfort or just sliding him into the Batfam sooner, is they all seem to fundamentally misunderstand Jason.

because there seem to be a lot of fandom popular concepts of Jason coming home much sooner and just not having his whole Under The Red Hood arc. which in theory is fine and i can see the want to simplify canon to make room for your lighthearted more fluff-leaning concepts. but in everyone without fail, the way they address the clown-shaped elephant in the room is by having some throwaway line that "oh Jason quietly kills the Joker and moves on".

when the Joker being dead or alive is not the *point*. if by some chance accident, the Joker had died prior to Jason's return, whether by ridiculous freak accident, getting whacked by a fellow villain, hell even someone actually doing so to avenge Jason, it *would not* satiate Jason's anger. because Jason's end goal in UtRH is not to simply kill the Joker: it is to make *Bruce* kill the Joker. Jason's anger is directed to the idea that to Jason, if Bruce truly loved Jason, he would've killed the Joker. that is love, for Jason. compromising your personal values for love and not letting someone go unavenged. when Jason was Robin, almost every angry or misguided thing he did was born of love. he wanted to kill/hurt Two-Face because he believed Dent killed his father. he was so angry at Felipe because an innocent woman was dead due to that man's actions. he wanted to save his mother in a situation he knew he shouldn't be in because he loved her. his anger, his violence, it is driven by love and feelings of righting wrongs. that is how he thinks wrongs *should* be righted. that is how you avenge and *love* someone.

because so long as Jason's return to Gotham doesn't end in Bruce killing the Joker (which, it never will bc Bruce is Bruce), Jason will never forgive Bruce. you cannot wave away the layers of hurt and complicated trauma by killing Joker offscreen. because Jason will still be angry that Bruce didn't avenge him. in his eyes, that means Bruce did not love him enough. he was not truly loved by Bruce the way he loved Bruce. bc Bruce was Jason's whole *world*. prior to being taken in, Dick and Tim, they had support systems. they had loved ones. they knew what stability and healthy family love looked like. Jason *didn't*. and that's not to say that Catherine Todd did not love him with her whole heart and thus he loved her, but it certainly wasn't a stable and safe support system for Jason to grow up in. Bruce was Jason's first real sense of a stable, healthy life. and so of course Jason poured everything into Bruce and loved Bruce so devoutly. Bruce was his world. like he says, if it had been Bruce, Jason would've stopped at nothing.

so his betrayal is rooted in that he was not avenged, not that Joker is alive. so long as the Joker does not die by Bruce's hands, it will never be enough for Jason. (in this era, at least.) notably, this is also why i don't think it would change a thing if Jason knew the whole "oh Bruce wanted to kill the Joker but Superman stopped him" tidbit that fanon has really latched onto as a way to pacify Jason's anger toward Bruce. Jason knowing that wouldn't change a thing, in my opinion. because Jason knows Bruce. and a tenant of Bruce's character is that he grapples with murder *every day*. the whole point is how *easy* it would be for him. he is a human weapon, trained by killers, trained to be deadly. he is the greatest strategist to exist. he knows he could kill someone and get away with it. *no* trace, no proof, nothing. and he knows he *wants* to. wants to kill the Joker, Joe Chill, anyone who's hurt him that viscerally.

but he *doesn't*. that's the point. Bruce wakes up every day with that question on his mind, and every day the answer is the same. Bruce's morality is not a decision he made in an alleyway when his parents died, it's a decision he continues to make every day and he *must* continue to make in order to remain who he is. Jason is quite familiar with the fact that Bruce grapples with this daily. i do not think it surprised nor fazed Jason to know that Bruce did *consider* killing the Joker. that he wanted to. maybe even planned to. but a consideration, a want, a plan, is just a thought. it's nothing substantial, and substance is everything to Jason. at the end of the day, Bruce didn't. he was talked down by *Clark* of all people with an excuse of diplomatic immunity, as if Jason and Bruce don't both know that Bruce could've *easily* found a way to make it look like an accident or some other loophole. because he's Batman. there's always a loophole. he always finds a way when he actually intends to. but he never actually intended to kill the Joker. so he didn't. and Jason would know that there was never an intent. it's an interesting piece of fodder to add to the nuance of Jason and Bruce, but honestly, i think it'd make Jason angrier to have that excuse thrown in his face. as if Bruce hasn't beaten Clark half a dozen times by now. it's a flimsy nonsense excuse that Jason would rip to shreds.

so while yes, i understand the wish for easy lighthearted fanfic that doesn't have to deal with the nuances of canon, i think that Jason's character will always be so deeply robbed and altered if you try to fix his thirst for vengeance with an off-page killing of Joker at Jason's hands. it was never the point. the point was that -in his own eyes- he wasn't loved enough for Bruce to make an acception. he realized that not even his *death* would come before Bruce's Mission. Jason truly believed that Bruce loved him and held him as the most important thing in the world, and now he has proof that Bruce didn't. because the Mission mattered more.

i'm not saying i have a solution to this conundrum if you're attempting to solve it for fanfic/fanon, nor am i even saying it's a bad thing it exists. i just think it becoming overwhelmingly common has led to misunderstandings surrounding Jason's motivations and feelings about this arc and it's an unsatisfying solution that only seeks to pacify Jason's rage and his trauma responses for the sake of found family-ification.

[thethespacecoyote]

I still feel like the craziest part of the book of bill is bill making ford stand on his roof in the freezing cold and ford realizing bill couldve made him jump but didn't. like. what the fuck

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 9

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 9th snippet. The evening before they plan to march on Eregion and fight Sauron, Adar and Celebrimbor share one last dinner together. The elf ponders his time with the uruk, and the two husbands share some reassurances. (There is some mildly alluded to/hinted Adar/Sauron and Celebrimbor/Sauron in this, but it can be read as either platonic or romantic imo.)

Remember how I mentioned that I'd write one of their meals if my muse let me? Yeah, have one extra part. As a treat. We are nearing the finish line, slowly but surely, and I am both excited and a lil anxious about it. At least it looks like I might actually get this thing finished, which is still mind-boggling to me. Enjoy!

They'd do it, tomorrow. It still felt surreal to even think it, but tomorrow, the joined armies of Adar and Gil-Galad would march onto Eregion together, demand entry, attack Sauron - and hopefully, free all of middle earth of the looming threat he posed to it.

Everyone had been tense, even downright restless, during the day. Galadriel hadn't been able to sit down during the last round of planning, Elrond had been lost in thought more than not, and Gil-Galad had taken to pinching his brow and twirling Vilya around his finger at times when before, he'd have avoided such obvious tells about his state of mind.

Even Celebrimbor had found himself wringing his hands and fiddling with a writing quill to the point that he'd accidentally frayed it, earlier in the day.

The only one who seemed to become more even-tempered instead of agitated was Adar. The smith had first noticed it when the uruk poured all of them something to drink; whereas Celebrimbor's own hands shook from nerves as he reached to take his cup, Adar held it out steadily for him.

The uruk wandered around the table in an almost leisurely pace, calmly recited the number of his troops or the amount of war machinery he possessed, and pointed out potential weak points of the city walls as well as how their alliance might safely breach them in case the city was truly lost to the Deceiver - all with nary a hint of emotion.

It was eye-opening, in a sense, to see how Adar appeared to thrive in a time that spelt dread for most others. The smith needed to mull this over, for a time, until he realized that this was likely due to how the uruk had lived most of their lives. Always prepared for a battle, for an attack, for aggression.

They knew war, understood war, even if they wished to avoid it when it came to Eregion. Most likely, they'd been forced into it by Morgoth. And then, after the fallen valar had been banished and Sauron temporarily defeated, they'd had to live it once more, when the other races of middle earth turned their backs instead of reaching out to them.

These and similar thoughts haunted Celebrimbor's mind as he and Adar sat down together for dinner later that day - the final one they would have together in this camp, before facing their enemy tomorrow.

As the elf watched Adar eat, looking almost completely unperturbed, while Celebrimbor merely picked at his own food. Mixed in with his worries, there was a sense of melancholy that demanded closer attention.

He hadn't been in the uruk camp for long, all things considered. A few weeks, at most. And yet, he had found a sense of normalcy here, between negotiations and exploring the camp with Glûg, tinkering at Gurlak's forge and having conversations with Adar. Especially the latter part.

The elf's feelings towards his husband had gone through rapid changes in those few weeks. From initial fear and distrust, to brief resignation, to hope, ease, curiosity. Mutual respect, a sense of camaderie, then companionship. 

Friendship.

Affection.

Something the smith couldn't - didn't dare to - name yet.

When Celebrimbor looked up again, hoping to catch another glance of his husband's face while the other focused wholly on his meal, the smith felt warm when he found that the uruk was already watching him instead.

There was a moment as Adar chewed and swallowed whatever he had been eating, before stared pointedly at Celebrimbor's plate. "Is the food not to your liking today?" A pause. "Or is something else the matter?"

The elf exhaled, long and loud, and felt his shoulders sink in defeat. He put aside his fork. His meal had surely gone cold by now, and he didn't feel able to stomach any more anyways. "The food is as good as always. I just find myself...distracted, today."

Adar hummed. "That is to be expected. I think all of us are having mixed feelings about tomorrow," he replied, and held Celebrimbor's gaze. "But remember it is not just a simple fight. It is the chance to save all of middle earth for generations to come - possibly even for good."

The elf nodded, and tried to will his face into a more hopeful expression, but it wouldn't obey him. There were a great many things that troubled him; some that had done so for weeks, some that recently started to keep his mind occupied. Now, they threatened to overwhelm him. "You are right. I should try and focus on the positive side of things. But I find it hard not to- have some lingering apprehension."

He found his own eyes had wandered the tent as the spoke, unable to focus on the uruk, and the smith had to consciously pull them back toward his husband. Who did, in fact, still watch him. Adar's eyes were intense, and it felt as if he could see all of Celebrimbor's doubts in that moment.

"You aren't feeling ready to face him tomorrow, aren't you?" the uruk asked.

Celebrimbor tensed in response - he had not expected the other to see his deepest fears and lay them out, bared to both their gaze in the space between them.

But the look in Adar's eyes was one of understanding, and his tone soft as he spoke, and so the smith felt safe enough to be honest with himself as well as his husband.

"No, I do not," he admitted, and heard his voice crack before he cleared his throat and sat up straighter. He balled his hands, which he had placed in his lap, into fists to stop them from shaking. "I fear what I will find, walking back into that city. What he might have done to it. To my forge, to my subjects. My apprentices, my - friends."

"But most of all, I am terrified of having to be so close to him again," his voice was small. "Of what he might do, how he might try and twist my own mind against me, my ambitions and my insecurities. What if he gets a hold of me again and I cannot resist him this time?" The question was directed at no one, but it was one that had kept him on his feet, twitchy and eager to occupy his mind with other things.

It was a deep-seated fear that had gnawed away at him, so insidious he hadn't even dared to admit it to himself until then. He'd tired to push it away for all those last weeks, at least until it became apparent that their negotiations would actually lead somewhere, as their alliance finally took shape.

He was startled from his thoughts when Adar spoke up. Still, his voice was soft. If he hadn't been under Morgoth's command and suffered whatever had scarred body, Celebrimbor suspected the other's singing voice might have rivalled the beauty and candence of Maglor himself.

"Back then, in the First Age, when I freed my children. I did not feel ready to face him either," Adar revealed.

The elf needed a moment to fully comprehend the words, and as he did, his eyes widened.

The uruk was still looking directly at Celebrimbor, but when the elf remained silent - too stunned to speak - Adar continued. He propped up his elbow and let the fingers of his gauntleted hand rub against one another as his face tilted to the right of him, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Back then, it had already been centuries, even millenia, that I had served in his master's ranks alongside him. Mairon, as he was still called back then, had been friend and foe alike, at least I thought so. I followed him and his master's lead, both because I thought there was no other way, and because I could not make myself leave even when I hoped to create another path to walk instead."

"Each time I threatened to falter, he managed to coax, plead or seduce me back into perfect loyalty. Even when they twisted and scarred my children, even during all the wars they made me wage for them. He told me it would all lead to a future where my children and I could be free. And I believed him."

"It was only when he began to sacrifice them in droves for his 'unseen world' project, when he grew the idea of subjecting all living things not just to his yoke, but his very thoughts, that something changed."

There was a long pause. Celebrimbor did not even dare breathe too loudly, much less move. He could not take his eyes off of Adar, who looked both so regal and so frail in that very moment.

"I could not bear the idea of losing any more of my children. Or any more of me. But even then- it was the most terrifying thought I'd ever had, and the most terrifying thing I had attempted. I still see myself killing him on the back of my eyelids during bad nights. And each time, I still feel the same fear as I did back then."

Finally, Adar looked at Celebrimbor again. The elf felt unmoored, as if he were floating, from the sheer depth of compassion he saw in those eyes. "Believe me when I tell you - I fear tomorrow the same as you do."

Celebrimbor swallowed, and felt his eyes cloud over a little, before he blinked the moisture away and looked down, trying to hide his reaction.

He heard Adar get up from his chair and walk over towards him, at which point the smith lifted his head in surprise. Adar was still watching him, but his look was changing from one of compassion to a different expression, one that the elf couldn't quite place-

The uruk sat down on his haunches next to Celebrimbor's chair, and placed his bare hand onto the elf's wrist. Warmth seeped through his robe and he felt as if it were spreading through across his whole body. It brought Celebrimbor back to himself, made him feel grounded and- safe.

"I did it for my children, back then," the uruk explained. "All you have told me, all that I have seen you do, made it clear to me that you too care about your people in such a way as I do mine. And look how far it has brought us. Few believed this alliance could be achieved, yet we did. Neither of us has to face him alone now."

"I did not falter when it mattered most, back then. I will not falter now. And neither will you. I am sure of it."

Celebrimbor could only describe the way he felt as 'thunderstruck'. The nagging voice in the back of his mind, his doubts, all of it seemed to fall away at Adar's words, the way he said them so confidently, with an assuredness that made the elf unable to even question, much less contradict him.

If Adar believed that they would succeed, then they would. There was no other option. Perhaps, the elf mused, this was part of why Adar was such a good leader to the uruk.

When Celebrimbor didn't speak, Adar lightly squeezed his wrist. This, of all things, helped Celebrimbor regain his speech with a slight jolt. The warmth of their contact continued to spread through him. Yes, this- this was definitely affection he was feeling. Fondness.

"I do not just fear for my own people," the elf replied, voice still quiet. "I fear for yours as well. I have made...friends, among them. Glûg, and Gurlak. I know Glûg has a wife and child. Gurlak has apprentices like I had- have, in Eregion."

At that, a light quirk stole itself onto Adar's lips. The elf felt his gaze being drawn to the motion. Whenever Adar smiled, even just a little, it seemed to transform his whole face.

"And I am pleased that you have. As I said. I did not think it could be done, a friendship between elves and uruk. I am glad you helped prove me wrong - and everyone else, too."

Celebrimbor tried to say more, even as his words threatened to flee him again, but Adar was too quick for him to do so as the uruk got up again.

"Rest. I need to check on my lieutenants and help ready the troops for tomorrow. Perhaps you might be able to eat a bit more, yet," Adar said. As he walked behind the elf's chair, towards the entrance of the tent, his hand slid from Celebrimbor's wrist, up his arm and to his shoulder, which he squeezed softly with his hand.

Adar's words, his touch, the way it made Celebrimbor's heart seize and then feel as if it might burst in his chest, made the smith quickly reach up with his own hand and catch Adar's where it lay, grasping it and keeping it locked in place.

A shuddery breath, and he turned his head up at the other.

The uruk was looking at him still, but his face was more placid now. He was so quick, so skilled, at hiding himself away.

There were so many things the smith had said in his life - he'd given rousing speeches, encouragements to his apprentices. Affirmations for his friends, praise for Elrond, Galadriel and Gil-Galad for their accomplishments, tender words to those who had endured great losses.

And yet, now, his words had utterly deserted him.

He wanted to tell Adar so many things - 'I am glad we achieved a treaty for our people.' 'You are nothing like I expected.' 'I am glad you are here.' 'You and your words have calmed me like no other could.' 'I worry about you most of all.' 'I cannot explain what I am feeling, but the thought of losing you terrifies me, I think I might not be able to bear it.'

'Meeting you has been a coincidence, but I am glad it did happen, despite the circumstances.' 'I liken your eyes to gemstones in my thoughts and I want to craft you jewelry that fit their shade.' 'I wish I knew how to ask to repair your armor, so I might protect you like you did me.'

'I think I feel more for you than a husband in a political marriage typically does. Certainly more than I expected to feel.'

But, overwhelmed by his own revelations, the only thing he managed to say was "Thank you, Adar, for your reassurance. I am not sure if I might ever be ready to face him, but. You are right. And I am glad not to be alone this time," a pause. "You are not alone this time, either."

There was another small smile on Adar's lips, but it made Celebrimbor feel dejected instead of elated, for it seemed to hold no happiness, nor humor.

"You are very welcome, Celebrimbor. Now, as I said - eat. I will be joining you again once I am done," and with that, Adar stepped away as he pulled his hand out of Celebrimbor's grasp, and was gone from the tent before the elven smith could protest.

He sat there, his own hand still resting on his shoulder, still and quiet and all by himself. His heart still felt too big for his chest, but now, it also felt is if someone were tearing it apart.

Never in his life had Celebrimbor felt so utterly, completely bereft before. As if something intangible, yet very crucial and important, had just slipped through his fingers. And he felt terribly unsure if he would have the chance to ever reclaim it.

This, instead the thought of facing Sauron come tomorrow, scared him most of all.

[arandomferretsthoughts]

This popped into my brain and wouldnt leave so I wanted to share it with yall

—

A young boy and his parents are attacked on the street, only the boy makes it out.

It's a rare occurrence, an event like this, the police find the man and arrest him and everyone else is safe.

Bruce Wayne goes home to a mansion that feels larger and lonelier than ever, with only his butler to take care of him.

And yet the young boy finds himself too afraid to leave for more than necessities.

The young boy grows into a young man, he inherits his parents business and starts to leave his house a little more, unwilling to lose this connection to his lost parents but still he finds himself afraid, afraid to be around people, to be seen.

Until one day at a gala he must attend for the sake of the shareholders, he sees a man, a reporter, who holds himself in an odd way, clearly a tall and strong man who could be intimidating if he tried but the man held himself as if to appear smaller and unassuming, Bruce's brain flitters across the idea that the man is hiding something, or more hiding himself.

His brain that has soaked up comics and movies for years so as to not grow bored in his home.

And when he learns of all the good this reporter has been trying to do, he thinks the man would make a good superhero.

When he goes home the thought wont leave him alone, he thinks of a world with a hero, a world that needs a hero, one where his parents murder would have just been one of many, but this hero wouldn't have been there to help, he was too bright, a hero for the daytime, not for the shadows of night.

He thinks maybe he could have been a hero in this world, one that saves other kids from suffering a fate like his own.

One who is afraid and fights anyway.

The next time he leaves his home there's an event at a museum, with some special objects that are in town for a few days. There he sees a woman who knows so much about ancient relics and is so beautiful that he doesn't believe she could be just a normal human.

He thinks she would share her knowledge and kindness with the world given the chance.

While he remains mostly alone, other than his Parental figure/Butler, he also keeps in contact with two friends from when he was in school.

One is now a psychiatrist, with an interest in learning about fear and how it can change people, and the other a psychologist, both working at the city's asylum. 

Harleen is who Bruce considers his best friend, a goofy but kind girl who cares alot about others, she tells him about a patient, without going into much detail, who she claims would be cute if he wasn't so insane. Smiling and laughing while he talks about harming others. 

She got a boyfriend somewhere along the way, a man Bruce is sure abuses her but she can't seem to leave.

The three get in a fight one day, and lose contact, and Bruce supposes you can't have heroes without villains, though he can't bring himself to think of Harley as a villain by her own choice.

On the news Bruce learns of a man working to better science as they know it, a man who always seems to be a few minutes too late, he follows the story until the day something goes wrong and the man is there on time to shield workers from flying chemicals, killing him but saving others, Bruce thinks the man a hero in death, and could have been one in life, one who always made it to where he was needed just on time.

As time went on Bruce tried to get out more in normal ways, one night he went to the circus, he enjoyed it, reminding him of the day when he was little and his parents brought him to one just like it.

It was a few days later that he learned at the next show there was an accident, and a little boy lost his parents, he remembered being small and feeling alone when he had lost his, thankful for the man who cared for him he wished he could do the same for this little boy, but knew he didn't have the skills needed.

He could, however, make sure the boy got somewhere safe, and other kids like him too.

So he held a fundraiser and donated a lot of money into the foster system, doing what he could to make it safe.

And he thought of a world where he could have taken the little circus boy into his home, making it brighter and less lonely.

As he ventured out more and more Bruce travelled through different parts of the city, he saw a group of little children cowering behind one bigger who had just chased off a grown man, Bruce smiled as the kids cheered for the little hero.

It was the news that later told him the boy was dead, a homeless kid who stopped being seen, the little hero was gone.

Bruce held another fundraiser, this one for the homeless shelters and kitchens.

It was the news that told him the boy was not dead, found by the police, with other stolen children. 

Children that returned to a better place.

The day he lost his last parent is the day where he began to feel truly alone, the only person there for him gone, but Alfred would live forever in his memory's as the man who loved and cared for him.

He reached out to Harly again not wanting to be all alone, and they made up, he learned she had gotten free of her abusive boyfriend and had fallen for a woman who's love of nature was refreshing and new.

He knew little about his neighbours, but he tried to get to know them better, he struggled but eventually learned that the woman that lived there was very sick and that the man was not home much, when he learned of the child who spent so much of his time alone, he thought the kid was brave and told him if he ever needed anything to just ask.

The kid needed someone the day when his mother didn't wake up and his father wasn't home. Bruce did what he could, he was no father but he cared for the kid the best he could until his was able to return.

Bruce knew it was expected of him to have a family, someone to give his things and his business when he passed. He tried dating, but nothing ever seemed to work out.

However one day he learned of a child, a son, one the mother hadn't told him about, he tried to gain any sort of parental rights but couldn't get any custody, only visitation, he met the boy, a quiet but fiercely determined child, And he loved his son even without seeing him much.

When the quiet, hermit, billionaire Bruce Wayne, best known for appearing, donating large amounts of money to random causes and then disappearing again, passed away his belongings and company were to be split between two people, Timothy Drake, and Damian al Ghul, when the two met up to split his things, they found writings the man had never told anyone of.

Writings of a world where regular people became heroes, where aliens walked amongst humans, and where magic made lives exciting.

They agreed to publish the story's for the world to see.

To most people, the writings were just an entertaining fiction story that a billionaire wrote with his unlimited free time.

But to the retired reporter who knew his height frightened others, who now rested and found the stories learned that someone had seen how he stood, and what he had done and thought of him as a hero,

To the artefact collector and preserver who learned this man believed she was so knowledgeable about what she had strived to learn everything about, as well as beautiful, that he thought her to be blessed by the gods,

To the old psychologist who mourns her friend, a man who thought that no matter what she went through she'd always make the right choice in the end, 

To the family of a man who lost his life saving others, who this guy they had never met thought so highly of,

To the man that lost his only family to an accident at their circus, he was a man who wanted him get a good home, where'd he'd get anything he ever wanted, 

To a man that went through so much, believed dead for so long to learn this man who he had only seen once, saw him not as a poor homeless kid but as a fighter and protector,

To the boy that new the man for a short time, as a temporary guardian and protector, who made him feel safe and not alone when he needed it most, 

And To the boy who wished he could have known his father, but was kept away by his mother,

The storys showed to them all that this man, who some thought of as cold and egotistical, as he locked himself away and refused to be around others, was actually an anxious, lonely man, who saw what others didn't and cared about everyone in his own odd way.

—

I just thought it was a cool idea I wanted to share with yall, so I hope you guys like it

This is my first post on here, so please be nice,

Also, ignore any spelling or grammar mistakes Dyslexia goes brrr

If you want to know what I think he based the other heroes and character off of, just ask, and I'll figure it out!

Thanks for reading, and have a good day!

Edit:

Thanks for all the nice comments and reblogs :)

I genuinely didn't realize how sad this was, lol. Sorry, not sorry, guys

[your-unfriendlyghost]

it feels so…… weird… seeing a cishet dude be so chill with queer themes lmao your soda-in-drag moment, the stevepop of it all, even guys with queers in their friend circles can’t bring themselves to partake sometimes lmao 😭 but it’s cool !! refreshing even sjksksndks this is a /pos statement I promise

Thanks lol! I think it’s cos I’m fairly secure. Sorta. (I’m still prone to compensating for things and being a stupid teen boy, but like, I’m aware of it, at least when I stop to think. Yk I’ll still join in on dick measuring contests, but deep down I’ll know it’s dumb and performative.)

I guess I feel a kinship to queerness. I go to art school where I’m sometimes the only guy in a class of girls, and I’ve been the token straight guy in every friend group I’ve been in since freshman year of high school. Beyond that, growing up I was frequently mistook for a girl- I had long-ish hair (post bowl-cut era 😭) and I’m part Asian, I was pretty androgynous lol. People irl have thought I’m gay, or a trans man on testosterone (I mean fine, I guess I am pretty short and hang with a lot of trans guys.) Hell, I did drag on a dare once, back when I was even more secure. (And I was hot asf in drag lemme tell ya. It felt lousy and it’s definitely not my thing, but man if I had a clone who was a girl-) All this to say, I say I’m straight, but honestly I don’t really know. I like girls a lot, but I have seen a buddy of mine in drag, and lemme tell ya I felt something but I’m not gonna examine that rn lol. Straight just feels comfortable, safe, and it’s good for interacting with folks who ain’t so progressive, so it’s what I’m sticking with…but I’ll admit there’s a gray area.

I relate a lot to the guys in the Outsiders, and irl I like to present myself as a tough, cool, Very Masculine guy. Hell, sometimes I play dumb about stuff because it’s “feminine” and a guy like me shouldn’t know about it. I act a lot like how I write Steve Randle, he’s my guy I like to project on lol. Honestly, I’ve got a fair amount of internalized toxic masculinity. But I think because I know how silly it all is deep down, I can interact with queer themes in art without feeling like I’m not “man enough”. Idk, I suppose it’s an outlet in some ways. Who knows maybe in 2027 I’ll come out as bi or something, but don’t wait up.

idk, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I like exploring queer themes, not because they’re queer necessarily, but because they’re human and I relate to them. And that’s hard not to partake in, y’know?

[youchangedmedestiel]

Destiel AU idea (again)

Dean is searching for a flat because he recently divorced Lisa. He wants one that is big and comfortable enough to welcome his children, Ben and Emma. It's been months since he started searching for one. Fortunately, Lisa is understanding enough to let him stay in their old house until he finds something.

They actually aren't in a hard and conflicted relationship right now, their marriage stopped because there wasn't love between them anymore. They still care about each other.

Dean knew he wasn't in love with Lisa anymore and he suspected the same for Lisa, but he was fine with it. Lisa though thought otherwise. She asked for divorce because she said that they both deserved to find love and be loved.

So, Dean is doing his umpteenth visit for a flat that he spotted on Internet. This one seems really nice and clean, his children will be able to have their own rooms. And the kitchen looks awesome with enough place for him to cook.

The real estate agent who give him the tour of the flat isn't bad either. He has blue eyes, which looks surreal, long and dark eyelashes that match his hair and his growing beard. Dean listens to him attentively and can't help but look right into his eyes when he speaks. Dean wants to confide in him and he does that naturally actually.

He tells him that he is sick to search for a home for his family. It's been months, and he's exhausted to be disappointed each time he thinks he found something. But at the same time, he wants his children to feel good in that new home so he is demanding.

That real estate agent, Castiel, is compassionate and doesn't understand why Dean doesn't find one with his solid, complete application. Castiel tells Dean that maybe it's because others real estate agents are struggling right now. There's a lot of people searching for a new home at this time of the year, so a lot of work. Castiel admits that he, himself, is buried in work all day long.

He works 6 days a week constantly. Since Dean is really attentive to what the man in front of him says, he notices that Castiel doesn't seem to have someone in his life to get back to. So, he goes for it. He asks Castiel if he wants to go and get a drink with him once they have finished the tour.

Castiel seems surprised by the offer and looks away. He fumbles with his pen and papers and puts them on the kitchen counter. He takes a deep breath. So, Dean fears his answer.

"Are you asking me on a d-" Castiel starts asking hesitantly.

"Yes." Dean cuts him, because he somehow fears that word. It sounds too official and he's still living with his ex. Plus, it's been a while for him.

"O - okay. Yeah." Castiel agrees, and neither of them is able to look at the other.

[sunfloweraro]

Bunny in danger!

The Chain leave Bunny somewhere safe to clear a monster camp on their trail. Despite Wild’s assurances, Bunny isn’t so safe after all.

@thatonecrazysidekick @tiredgaytheatrekid pssst more Bunny! (I’m sorry)

TW for blood and injury.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Black sand exploded around him, and with half his group of monsters disintegrated, Hyrule had a second to breathe before the final four pounced all at once. A spear cut a fierce gash into his right arm, blood dribbling from the wound and staining his dark sleeve. Another nicked him on the calf. A third, he grabbed by the shaft and twisted out of the monster’s hands, relishing in the way its eyes widened in alarm before he shoved the weapon back into its owner’s stomach, the monster crumbling into black sand.

A high squeal, that fiery protectiveness within his chest swelling, forcing him to look up in time to see Bunny slam into a tree with a sharp shriek. Hyrule’s heart jumped into his throat as the little pink rabbit crashed to the ground in a heap. He didn’t move.

The fourth lizalfos took advantage of the distraction and sent its spear through the back of his thigh. Pain turned his vision white and Hyrule stumbled, the spear sticking out from the front of his leg, blood trailing down his thigh in dark rivulets. Then, he caught sight of that tiny bundle of pink fur, of a lizalfos stalking over to it, a fierce bite wound in its arm, and a wave of blistering fury and golden desire to protect flooded his mind. The air around him crackled.

“Don’t touch him!” A sharp snap of his fingers, and then dozens of bolts of lightning slammed into the ground all around him, turning the world white. The ground shook and lizalfos shrieked in terror, the sounds cut off swiftly.

And then the lightning was gone, leaving behind seven stunned heroes, their hair frizzy and wild and their eyes wide. Hyrule paid them no mind, nor did he feel the normal drain such a significant spell would cause or the spear still embedded in his thigh; he frantically hobbled over to Bunny, kneeling alongside him and gritting his teeth as the spear in his thigh shifted, his vision swimming alarmingly.

“Bunny!” His hands were already glowing a tender pink, healing magic at the ready, and he pressed them against Bunny, closing his eyes as his magic sought out the wounds his little friend had accumulated. His magic pulsed in response, a warning he ignored as he trickled more into Bunny’s still form.

“Traveller, your leg!” Wild had joined him at some point. Hyrule hadn’t noticed, when the edges of his vision were blurry, his ears roaring with blood. Now, his veins began to boil. “You need to—”

He turned to Wild, teeth bared. “You said he would be safe!”

Wild’s eyes widened and he flinched back as if Hyrule had struck him. “I…”

“Look at him! He almost died because of you! This is your fault!”

“I—I’m—” Wild’s eyes glistened now, and Hyrule found the flames were only stoked by the sight.

Before he could snap anything more, Twilight pushed himself between them. “Enough!” he hissed, pushing Wild away. “Take a walk, Cub.”

“B—but, I—”

“I know,” Twilight said, gentler than Hyrule thought Wild deserved. “We’ll talk later. I’ll take over.”

Wild nodded shakily, scurried away before Hyrule could say any more.

[yeyayeya]

No problem at all! I am absolutely in love with Yin Yu’s character (best character in TGCF hands down)

I adore his character as well, and I love seeing other people’s opinions and headcanons for him

We stan Yin Yu in this blog

thinking about yin yu (again) and

i think we have got to recognize collectively that yin yu is almost definitely much more terrifying than he seems

“oh but he’s so sweet and quiet and barely has a presence!” IS NO ONE CONSIDERING ALL OF THE THINGS HE COULD DO WHILE NO ONE IS LOOKING?

i love yin yu so much and that’s why i believe he could be terrifying and people could be super afraid of him

he helps hua cheng run ghost city, shouldn’t the ghosts fear and respect him just as much as they fear and respect hua cheng?

besides, we mainly only see him interact with the people who are basically his bosses, ofc we don’t see him kicking ass. but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t and he can’t!

anyways i’m not all the way finished with book 7 so this might be totally wrong but I LOVE YIN YU AND BELIEVE HE DESERVES TO BE SCARY thanks for coming to my tedtalk LMAO

[faislittlewhiteraven]

Tower of Dormont ISaT AU

Had a weird dream I figured would make a great ISaT AU if anyone wants to take a swing at it so umm, general idea:

Instead of the House being taken over by the King, instead the Favor Tree is warped into an evergrowing tower reaching up, up, up into the heavens.

Instead of the King's Curse slowly making its way across the land and Mirabelle being the 'Chosen One' to collect the orbs to stop it, it's time freezing Sadnesses raining down from the top of the Tower all over Vaugarde and surrounding countries, with heroes from all over (Euphie, Claude, various Defenders, people from other countries, etc) heading into the Tower to figure out what is happening only to never return...

And well. It looks like the end for Vaugarde, Mirabelle (having finally hit the 'I know what Euphrasie said but I've got to do something' point) has recruited Isa, Odile and Bonnie for a last ditch effort to try and stop the world from ending by Tower and...

Within the first few floors (which keep changing but kind of look like... The House of Dormont? No, that bit there looks like Odile's family home, and that room there is just like Nille's???) they find an unlocked bedroom and in that room an exhausted, terrified and near hopeless Siffrin who can barely remember anything from his life before being imprisoned here (even takes a bit to recall his name over the now despised 'Bright One') but after a bit of coaxing they admit they know a LOT about the floors ahead and might be willing to help the party reach the top of the Tower where they can put a stop to the madness going on outside but in return they must not let the King catch them (not again not again not again)...

Party are actually pretty cool with this (you know, aside from general 'is this person legit or actually an enemy?' concerns) but well, it's hard not to notice as their guide goes from barely able to fight beyond weak scissors craft and buffs to healing and every craft type under the sun. From claiming they don't know what's behind a certain door or above the next floor to explaining in detail that the prisoners in cages on the next floor are all Sadnesses, or that 'the King is coming, he hasn't realised I've left the room yet but I need something, anything, to mask my scent' (and later gets everyone to leave false trails down halls via jars of sugar and honey they picked up a few rooms previous). From claiming that the party are the only other people they've ever seen here to having near breakdowns over finding books or paintings with imagery and words that seem eerily familiar (think a book that reads like 'Claude wonders why Euphrasie and their amnesiac guide are so fussed about the walls here apparently being covered in stars? Why do stars matter anyway?'), etc.

Oh and they glow more and more with each floor which er, is probably going to make hiding from the King (who is VERY DEFINITELY after them judging from all the "Bright One, you know you are not supposed to leave you room. You do not want me angry again do you Bright One?" roaring) increasingly difficult.

...

And yeah. I don't actually know what is going on in this story beyond cool imagery due to the whole 'Literally woke up with this in my head because dream' but...

Been thinking it's kinda like an 'end game Persona series' situation where a chance friendly meeting/talk between Sif and the King right before the King's rampage would've started, led to the King to realizing he could use his Wish Craft to force the people of Vaugarde to 'wish with him' (see: escalating brainwashing madness), forcing a terrified Sif to go along with it (no brainwashing for the Bright One no, not when they were clearly sent by the Universe to be the King's guide ignore the Bright One's screams that this is wrong, that they want nothing to do with this; clearly oracles only relay the Universe's intent not share it themselves), and the current 'raining time freezing Sadnesses/Sif clearly being stuck in some weird looping variant' stuff being the result of Sif's 'Please protect Vaugarde and restore our home' wish said at the King's orders being heard by the Universe as "please Universe do whatever you can to stop all of Vaugarde- No, the world from falling under the King's control! + Someone, anyone save me! + 'immense amounts of self loathing and a desire to known and held accountable for inadvertently sparking a man made apocalypse' + Universe I wish I had people who actually cared about me/who would never only use me as a tool to save the world" and er well. The Universe had a way to 'protect everyone from the King' that would also kind of fit the King's wishes, a whole heap of power from all the brainwashed people the King was leading plus the 'meant to be repurposed' freezing all of Vaugarde in time ritual the King crafted to work from Dormont and... Yeah. Add to that people all over Vaugarde and possibly other countries 'adding' to the 'please save us' wish bank after Sif had already accidently centered it all around himself and basically both Sif's loops and the Sadness hell storm are being powered up by everyone everywhere in one huge ball of 'Hmm, I wonder if this all ends with the King getting killed or is there gonna be a big old morality question thingy post King killing at the end where Sif, upon remembering that "this is all my fault" tries to get the others to kill him which other heroes may have done (and thus triggering the loop, sending Sif back to the start possibly missing memories of them to hide away in shame/terror/etc) whereas Mira, Isa, Odile and Bonnie have gotten far too attached to this tragic, self sacrificing idiot and were willing to let the rest of the world be fully frozen for the rest of Sif's natural lifespan if it meant he could finally be free (not happy about it mind you, but like, just the 5 of them living in a quiet world until everyone else is safely freed after Sif's natural death is better than murdering someone who went through an eternity of horrors to protect a world they couldn't even remember and who's death might not even be the true answer anyway)'.

Oh and the King should basically be treated like a yandere version of the Reaper or something throughout the story (dream had way too many 'and then the King was suddenly there killing someone until Sif slashes their throat -no tears to use in this Tower alas- and from the party's perspective basically has a 'vision of the future' and/or freakout for seemingly no reason in the middle of Snack Time), while each of the many many floors of the Tower are basically due to being altered to match the minds of everyone (frozen or not) in the Tower, kinda like a Palace or P4 dungeon, due to well, Sif unconsciously wanting to learn more about them, wanting to remember/forget, possibly on some level wanting the King to how horrible this all actually is IDK (snack rooms, like the bedroom Sif was in are basically P5 saferooms but less 'area weak in cognition' and more 'Sif wishes for there to be places safe from the King and all the Sadness so there are some even if he knows he can't stay in them forever least they become prisons for him'). ...Might be nightmare floors as well? To represent Sif's terror of bad things happening to anyone he becomes attached to and wanting to be able to protect them so basically, they are accidentally making their own opposition (possibly based off of what they hear the others being afraid of/the desire to be useful to them) and I think Slay the Princess might make for great inspiration there if you need an idea of how crazy that might go~ XD

...So. Yeah. If anyone wants to use any of this for any fanfic ideas, please go ahead as I kind of would like to focus on my Selkie Au and fics for other fandoms more than this weird dream that basically took over my brain and said SHARE in caps so loud I've been stuck thinking about it ever since.

[dootznbootz]

Deeply fucking sorry to the anons who asked for Wips and snippets for taking so long. I'm still working on them AND my other Wips and ADHD is kicking my ass so here's some random food. I hope to give y'all hearty meals soon.

Beggar OdyPen angst. Sappy, scrappy, and crappy as usual :P

Water Son saves his dipshit dad.

And of course...

"My Wife is a bitch and I love her so much."

(no, she doesn't in any way hate Helen. She loves her cousin and deeply cares for her. They were best friends growing up in my writing. She's just a bit snooty and arrogant (Likeminded. hubris is a flaw of hers as well), especially about weaving and Helen's style has always been "loud and flashy". And while Penelope's is "attention grabbing" as well, she's very detail-orientated and very thoughtful about colors and what fits together. Helen's style is a bit of her trying to have attention away from her physical looks. Kind of to have folks see her more for her CHOICES in how she looks instead of just seeing her face, even if said choices are a bit "tacky".

"Look at what I'm wearing, not me. I CHOOSE these clothes. I DESIGNED them. They're MINE."

Penelope, looking at Helen's weaving: "You know, Iris will want her rainbow back... And she'll want the colors put back in the right order." Helen: "Says the girl who puts into her weavings every frog, fish, flower, blade of grass, cloud, leaf, tree, hill-" Penelope: "Okay, fuck off. ರ_ರ I'm taking the red thread as I need it and there better be enough of it."

it's unedited af but yeah, food. Mwah. I love you all.

[beanghostprincess]

When they start dating Sanji finds comfort in the assumption that Usopp has never dated anybody else either. Kissed anybody else. Lost his virginity yet. Because Sanji hasn't, and he just assumes Usopp can't possibly know more about relationships than him.

But Usopp grew up with Kaya until he was 17. And he has done all of those things. So now Sanji is even more nervous about all of this, but Usopp doesn't seem to be more relaxed, either? And it's so confusing. So while Sanji panics about all the firsts they have yet to have together, Usopp does the same.

So Sanji is kind of like "Why are YOU nervous?! You're the one who has done all this shit already I- I don't even know where to start!"

"But it's the first time I do them with YOU. "

We often forget they're canonically anxious teenagers who really really really don't know anything about love and they have to experience these things together. And I find that beautiful.

[venusmage]

i think im over astarion but then someone draws him really hot and im so back

[nevesmose]

Somehow the idea of Curze whispering poison in his sister's ear repulsed Perturabo most of all.

[purplemoon-28]

Quick, what kind of books do y'all think Theo would read? Actually, what hobbies in general do you think he'd have, as someone who lived his life with a bunch of creepy scientists? I may or may not be writing a thiam fic and it's hard to think of what he'd actually like, y'know?