#Maybe though

[yxremii]

Phantom of the Opera but make Laurance Eric.

Regardless of his reincarnation, he's always doomed to live his life in hiding, watching as the people around him resemble those he's met in past lives. Always watching the woman he's loved live the life he could only dream to give her with the same man in every life time, himself always being so close yet so far away from her, and yet this time he allowed himself to believe otherwise. His identity was concealed beneath a mask, the ugly scars that only accumulated with every lifetime hidden as he helped the new soprano from the shadows, allowing himself to finally speak to her whilst keeping himself a distance away. This could be different, he allowed himself to think. And it was going so well.

Too bad the Opera's new patron showed up, and to make matters worse, was no one other than the golden haired man, her childhood sweetheart, and lover in every lifetime.

Of course things would repeat themselves again, why wouldn't they?

[friskymary]

Dear Ron and Hermione,

As I am writing this, I will be gone. I'm sorry that i couldn't see you in person, that our last meeting would be an argument. I'm truly sorry. But, well, Voldemort doesn't like to wait, I guess. . I'll explain. I'm going off to fight Voldemort. Before you can call me stupid in your head, it's what he wants. It's what he has told me. I can hear him. So that I don't go insane hearing the voice of my parents' murderer each day, I decided to listen once and went to the place he spoke. The walls had one message - to come fight him. I know it sounds stupid and, well, why he even is targeting me only. It's because he sees me as an obstacle to his success. That's the reason. Without me in the picture, he sees 100% success, i guess. I'm really sorry I am leaving you like this.. It breaks me but I cannot let him break you. Please inform Professor Dumbledore, if you'd like, of course. But I will be lost till that time. Maybe I can protect you, kill that bastard, maybe I can survive. But, chances are low. I'm really sorry, I'm so sorry, Hermione, that I screamed at you out of anger. I'm sorry Ron, that I've never really comforted you . I want to say one last thing. I love you. Sincerely, Harry Potter A tear falls onto the paper. Then two drops, and then it feels like a flood had occured.

[cardiaccannibalism]

etho mentioned wanting to build a hot spring….. yeah imma need fan art of that

[cb-writes-stuff]

Art time, y’all.

[bonefall]

hey if ivypool teams up with bramblestar because she thinks she's surrounded by code-breakers and people who should've been punished does that also apply to her? the reason the df trainees got off scot free,even breezepelt,who sided with them and ranted over hollyleaf's body was basically,"if we punish one of them,we have to punish all of them". that'd be REALLY interesting for her to grapple with

Hmm... I'm not sure. I think I may eliminate that tbh, the way I'm approaching Ivypool and Dovewing is more that they were shoved into danger by someone they should have been able to trust; Dovewing externalizes this with rage and leaves home to be with a mate she loves, where Ivypool internalizes this and swims in a lot of guilt.

Ivypool...

Accidentally killed Antpelt twice, not knowing that the living spirits could kill dead ones.

Bonded with her Waking World mentor, Brightheart, over a feeling of survivor's guilt

Bonded with her Dark Forest mentor, Hawkfrost, over the budding feeling they were both being used by their parental figures

She watches him double-die after turning on the Dark Forest in the Great Battle

Leaves OotS with the feeling that Antpelt and Hawkfrost both are dead because of her.

Post-battle she gets into an unhealthy relationship with Blossomfall

Eventually she breaks away from this relationship and finds love in an ex-kittypet who joins the Clan with Jessie and Stormcloud; Fernsong.

She's finally recovering when TBC starts up and rips open old wounds.

So I'm not sure if it fits her to say that anymore, unless it's motivated by exhaustion after the Great Battle, after losing so many people. Ivypool's grappling with being a vengeful cat.

[television-overload]

Tiva Fic Archiving Initiative

Still working on posting the things I've written over the years to AO3. Here is the latest, a sweet little hurt/comfort 9x13 "A Desperate Man" what-if that I wrote back in 2018.

Worth It

Read on AO3

The night air was brisk on the rooftop of the building.

"He does not appreciate me," Ziva said, her eyes brimming with tears, though she was clearly holding them back in front of Tony.

At these words, so filled with emotion and hurt, and so unlike Ziva, Tony had a choice to make. Was this one of those few times where Ziva needed serious, understanding Tony? Or should he crack a joke and hope it improves her mood?

Testing the waters, Tony gave a sort of smile, responding with "If I had a dollar for every time a girl said that to me…"

At first it seemed to have worked. "Ah," Ziva said with amusement. But soon after, she looked away, lost in thought and unable to make eye contact with Tony.

As she went into an explanation about what happened with Ray, Tony looked on, his heart breaking at the sound of Ziva's shaky voice. Her beautiful brown eyes shined with tears threatening to spill over, all while phrases like "he never showed, Tony," and "I waited in that restaurant, alone, for three hours," pierced through Tony's heart and caused a sickening feeling in his stomach.

Tony stayed quiet, allowing Ziva to get all of this off her chest, and allowing himself time to decide what the best thing to say to her would be.

Of course, what he wanted to tell her was that he appreciated her, that he would never treat her that way, that she could have called him and he would have been there in an instant to keep her company, cheer her up, comfort her.

But he couldn't. Ziva still loved Ray, despite what he had done. He could see it in her eyes. She was hurt, and she didn't understand why he had done it, but part of her heart still belonged to the CIA agent.

It seemed likely that Ziva was telling him all this because she wanted to know why Ray had stood her up. She thought that maybe Tony would have some insight into the world of jerk boyfriends (ouch), so Tony decided to play devil's advocate and offer an explanation for Ray's behavior.

"Well," he began, but he didn’t get far before Ziva interrupted him. Ray's actions had hurt her so much. She told him he reminded her of her father, of how unreliable he had been at times during her childhood.

Inside, Tony was boiling with anger toward both Ziva's boyfriend, and Eli David. But all that showed on the outside was pure sympathy for his lovely coworker, who deserved the world, not a lousy boyfriend and an absent dad.

Just before he could tell her what he really wanted to say, Ziva spotted a person lurking at their active crime scene, and the opportunity passed.

'If only she had called,' Tony thought, 'Everything could be different.'

-.-.-

"Ma'am, would you like to go ahead and sit down at your table while you wait?" the hostess said, calling the attention of the Israeli woman who kept pacing back and forth in the waiting area of the restaurant. Every few moments she would look down at her watch, then at her phone checking for messages, and then back outside, trying her best to keep her mind off of what was keeping Ray so long.

Ziva heaved a sigh and agreed. She was only worrying herself more by pacing, and eventually she would work up a sweat and ruin the makeup she had so painstakingly applied as well as her carefully styled hair.

This night was supposed to be special. Ray had gotten reservations at one of the fanciest restaurants in D.C., and she was told to dress up really nice for their meal. Now here she was, in her best dress, but so, so alone.

After an hour and a half of sitting alone at the table in the dimly lit corner of the restaurant, trying her best to not think about where Ray might be, Ziva's phone rang. She eagerly picked it up and accepted the call, expecting it to be an apologetic Ray on the other end of the line. She had been waiting for a message for hours, having given up on trying to contact him herself.

Without even a greeting, she hissed into the phone, "Where are you? I have been waiting for hours, what is taking so long?"

At first there was silence, but then a voice that was definitely not Ray's answered back. "Ziva?"

Ziva's heart skipped a beat and she felt warmth spreading across her face. That was not Ray. It was Tony. She felt embarrassed and irritated at the same time, wondering even more why her boyfriend hadn't called.

"Oh, Tony." Ziva said after collecting her thoughts. "I thought you were… someone else."

"You thought I was Ray," Tony said almost immediately. He could tell from her tone of voice. They had always been able to understand each other in ways beyond words.

Ziva mentally kicked herself for not checking the caller ID before picking up. "Yes," she answered bluntly, hoping he wouldn't ask her about what she had said. "What do you want?" she asked impatiently.

Tony let out a sigh. She was shutting him out, which meant there was something she didn't want him to know. Typical. "Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go out for drinks with me, Abby, and McGee, but it sounds like you're currently occupied," he said, emphasizing the last words.

"Yes," Ziva said as convincingly as possible, both for her benefit and for Tony's. She didn't need his pity or his C.I. Ray jokes right now.

"So where is the man of the hour? Ray running a bit late?" Tony teased.

"It is none of your business, Tony," Ziva snapped, trying to stay composed in front of the other restaurant guests. She already had caught several couples sneaking glances at her, and the staff kept coming by to ask if she was okay or if she needed anything. Every time she would assure them that her date was on his way, but really she was trying to assure herself.

Ziva's harsh, defensive tone tipped Tony off. The situation must be more serious than he thought, and he recognized that he probably ought to treat it as such.

"You okay, Zi?" he asked, his voice suddenly becoming softer and gentler. "Where are you?" His mind went back over her words earlier and his heart broke as he finally understood the implications of what she had said upon answering the phone. She was sitting somewhere alone, waiting for Ray to show up. Clearly it had been a while and things weren't looking good, if the way Ziva spoke was any indicator. She was putting up her protective walls and blocking out everyone else, as she always did when she was upset or hurt.

Hearing Tony's caring, somber voice caused something inside Ziva to snap and all the worry and hurt suddenly rushed to the forefront of her mind. She tried her best to conceal the tears welling up in her eyes as she finally answered Tony's question.

"I am at that new restaurant on Pennsylvania Avenue. Ray was supposed to meet me here for dinner over 2 hours ago." Her voice came out shaky and strained, but she hoped Tony wouldn't notice.

"Ziva…" Tony breathed, with sympathy flowing from his voice. Even he would never intentionally skip out on a date, especially if the woman was as beautiful as Ziva.

"No, Tony, I am fine," she said forcefully, beginning to close off her emotions once again. She hated the pitying tone in his voice. She didn't need him feeling sorry for her. "I'm sure he is just… he will be here…"

As the words came out of her mouth, she knew they were not true. Ray was not coming. She knew she should probably just leave now and try to forget what he had done, but she was afraid that she was wrong and maybe he would show up at any moment.

Without another word, she hung up the phone and resolved herself to wait for Ray for a little longer. For 15 more minutes, she sat sipping a glass of water and staring at the wood grain of the table, lost in thought. She felt like she was 8 years old again, waiting expectantly by the window of her childhood home for her father to come home from work so she could show him what she had learned at ballet class that day. That same feeling of disappointment and lost hopes had settled in the pit of her stomach again, and she hated it. Was there no one in the world that she could rely on? No one that would treat her as if she were more important that other things in life?

Just as she was about to give up hope, a shadow fell over the table, drawing Ziva out of her thoughts. She looked up, expecting it to be yet another member of the wait staff coming to bother her, but she felt her heart melt as she saw who it really was, the shock of seeing him here sending a tingle from her head to the tips of her toes.

Tony. He stood there, dressed in a suit and tie with his hair combed nicely to one side. The comforting smell of his cologne permeated through the air and Ziva breathed it in, feeling herself start to relax in the presence of a friendly face.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked gently, breaking the silence that had sustained from the moment he had arrived.

Ziva bit her lip and nodded, hurrying to wipe any trace of tears from her eyes. Tony smiled and pulled a small bouquet of red roses from behind his back, handing them to her as he sat down at the table. She looked so sad sitting there all alone. He hoped his gesture would cheer her up a bit. He never wanted her to feel alone, not if he had anything to say about it.

Ziva gratefully accepted the flowers and allowed a small smile to cross her face. From her spot across from him, she lifted her gaze to meet his. Her eyes told him everything she was feeling. Hurt, confusion, loss, fear, worry, and now, at least some semblance of peace. Tony's eyes didn't waver from Ziva's as he moved his hand slowly to rest on top of hers, rubbing comforting circles on her hand. They sat in silence, eyes practically glued to each other's. Ziva's full of sadness and hurt, while Tony's were full of love so intense that neither of them could fully recognize it for what it was.

"You did not have to come, Tony," Ziva said after a while, bowing her head so that Tony could not see her face.

Tony sighed and nodded, turning his gaze to look over the restaurant. "Well," he began, turning back to Ziva with a hint of a smile on his lips, "You got all dressed up, someone might as well take you on a date."

Ziva smiled sadly, glad that she at least wasn't alone anymore.

"You look… absolutely beautiful," Tony said, nearly at a loss for words. Of course, she always looked beautiful, but tonight—he actually couldn't believe that this was real. She was wearing a long black dress, which accentuated her body perfectly and pooled slightly at the floor around her feet. Around her neck she wore her ever-present Star of David necklace, which Tony had given her to replace her old one. It was perfect to wear with the dress. It was not overpowering or too distracting, but it showed off her skin where the neckline of the dress fell. Her dark hair was styled with thick, luscious curls that trailed down her back and over her bare shoulders. It made Tony want to reach out and touch it, but he didn't. He reminded himself that he was not actually on a date with Ziva, at the moment. He was just there to keep her company so that her entire evening was not completely ruined. Ray wasn't out of the picture yet. Ziva still loved him. So Tony resolved himself to be whatever Ziva needed him to be. He would be the perfect gentleman.

Soon, one of the waitresses made her way to their table, pulling Tony from his thoughts. "Ah, I see your date has arrived. Are you two ready to order?"

Ziva looked like she was about to regretfully decline when Tony spoke up. "Yes, I think my lady knows exactly what she would like." He looked pointedly at her, urging her to go ahead and pick anything off the menu. Flustered, she picked up the menu and chose a pasta dish and a salad.

"I'll have the same, thank you," Tony said when it was his turn to order. "Oh, and a bottle of chardonnay also," he added. As the waitress left to go place their order, Tony turned back to Ziva, looking very pleased.

"Tony, this place is very expensive. We could have eaten somewhere else," Ziva said.

Tony shrugged his shoulders. "I don't mind. Besides, you sat here for 2 hours. It would be weird to just leave."

This caused Ziva to let out a laugh. She felt the tension in her body ease as she observed Tony's relaxed and controlled physical presence. Finally, she could breathe.

"You deserve this, Ziva," Tony said on a more serious note after a few moments of comfortable silence had settled on the table. She looked up quickly, evidently surprised by this remark. What she saw in his eyes was 100% genuine. He really believed what he said.

"I am not so sure, Tony," she responded, shaking her head. Tears began fill her eyes again, the pain of those hours alone coming back to her.

"Hey," Tony said softly, slowly moving himself to Ziva's side of the booth so that he was seated directly next to her. "I know things like this keep happening to you. I know you haven't had an easy life, and that people treat you like you aren't worth their time, but I promise you…" He turned her so that her eyes were mere inches from his. A stubborn tear slipped down her cheek as he placed a gentle hand on her head, softly stroking her hair with his fingers. "You are."

Ziva let out a breath of air and smiled as a steady stream of tears now escaped her control. Tony pulled her closer to him and she leaned her head on his shoulder, letting the them flow freely. To have someone say that to her, to assure her with so much sincerity that she was worth it, meant everything.

"Thank you, Tony," Ziva said quietly, still resting against him. His arm wrapped around her as he placed a kiss on her head.

-.-.-

A half an hour later, Tony and Ziva were enjoying themselves immensely while eating their delicious food. Tony was showing a surprising amount of class considering how fancy a restaurant this was, which Ziva had happily pointed out, causing Tony to put on a show of being offended. He then called over a waiter and asked, with a straight face, if they had chicken nuggets. Ziva laughed with her hands over her face in embarrassment, sorry that she had said anything about Tony's "class."

Ziva's laugh was like music to Tony's ears, especially after seeing how upset she had been when he had first arrived. She had done a complete 180 since then. Together, they ate their food and drank their wine, basking in the good times and happy feelings.

By the time the check came, both had content smiles on their faces and were full from their main course as well as dessert, which had been a delicious crème brûlée. Ziva snuck a peek at the total cost of the meal. The wine itself had been $175. The rest of the meal added up to $270 for the both of them. The total on the check was $445.

Ziva couldn't believe it. "Tony, please at least let me pay for my share," she said, attempting to snatch the bill from his hands.

But Tony was too fast. He slipped his credit card in the folder and held it away from her. "I don't think so Zee-vah," he said playfully, "This is my treat."

After the waitress came and took the bill, Tony stood to help Ziva with her coat. After putting it on, she turned to face Tony, only to find him inches away from her: much closer than she had anticipated. His steely gaze pierced through her eyes, as if he could see every thought that crossed her mind. It was almost overwhelming, and Ziva found that she had a hard time returning the gaze.

"Are you going to be okay?" Tony asked quietly, in a voice that caused her to shudder.

Ziva thought for a moment. "I think so," she said, matching the volume of Tony's voice. Tony nodded, satisfied with her answer, and turned away to grab Ziva's bag and hand it to her.

Once they were ready to leave, Tony offered his arm to Ziva, which she intertwined with her own. They walked together out of the restaurant and into the cool night air.

"Did you drive here?" Tony asked, turning back to face her.

She shook her head. "No, I took a taxi. Ray was going to…" she trailed off. Tony knew what she meant. Ray was going to take her back to his place, but he hadn't come.

Tony didn't want to make a big deal out of this, so he merely nodded and told her he would take her home. Ziva smiled gratefully and they walked to his car.

They were mostly silent the whole drive to Ziva's apartment. Every so often, Tony would look over at her beautiful figure as she gazed straight ahead at the road. She seemed so delicate and innocent. It was a side of her he had never seen before, or at least one that he didn't see often. Something about being let down by Ray had brought about this change. Now, though, she seemed at peace, if a little more introspective. The road hummed softly under the tires of the car as they drove forward into the night.

When Tony wasn't looking, Ziva would study his features, trying desperately to understand what made him decide to drop his plans and come to her rescue. He certainly had no obligation to do so, and they were, after all, just coworkers. What unsettled her most of all, perhaps, was the look in his eyes. She had seen it before, albeit not that often. Occasionally she would catch that glint in his eye from across the bullpen when he was staring at her, wide-eyed and full of wonder. But what does this mean to her?

The car came to a stop in Ziva's parking lot, and both stepped out of the car. Ziva shivered slightly in the cold and Tony told her that he would walk her up to her apartment.

The two friends made their way into the building in relative silence, with only the sounds of their footsteps on the stairs filling the air.

Once they got to Ziva's front door, however, Tony broke the silence. He turned to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "If you need anything else, at any time, I'll be there."

Ziva closed her eyes and let out a soft breath. "Thank you, Tony. For everything."

"I'm sure Ray will explain what happened tomorrow," Tony added, "I don't think he meant to leave you there alone."

"No," Ziva responded firmly. "If he has anything to say, it will not matter. What he did is…unforgivable."

Tony shook his head slightly in confusion. "Everyone makes mistakes, Ziva."

Ziva turned away, causing Tony's hands to drop from her shoulders. "It was not just this mistake, Tony. There have been others." She fiddled with her keys, avoiding Tony's piercing stare. "Ray does not appreciate me."

Tony looked like he was about to say something, but before he could, Ziva stepped closer to Tony than she had all evening. She placed her hand on his chest, breathing in his scent as her heart started to beat faster. Her eyes flicked up to meet his, heavy with meaning.

"But you do."

Tony's head tilted down to meet Ziva's gaze, his eyes swimming with emotions of sympathy and… love. That was it. Love.

Her words had caused his heart to melt. Gently, he brought his hand up to Ziva's cheek, brushing her hair from her face and holding it back slightly. With his thumb, he wiped a stray tear from her eye, and her attention settled briefly on his lips, parted slightly as if there were words he he wanted to say, but couldn't get out.

His fingertips lightly trailed through her straightened hair, over the shape of her ear and down the back of her neck, until his hand finally settled over her shoulder blade.

"Ziva..." he said, her name a mere whisper as he dipped his head impossibly closer. His eyes fell shut at once and she shuddered as she felt his forehead land against hers, the space between them reduced to a few shared breaths. He nuzzled against her, waiting for a sign that he should put an end to this.

No such sign would come.

At last, the hand on her back pressed her forward, and she tipped her head to meet him, closing the literal and figurative gap between them once and for all. His lips pressed against hers, and it was everything and more than she could have hoped it would be. His kisses were tender, and she realized with the flutter of her stomach that she had never been kissed like this before, never felt this kind of care, sincerity, and raw emotion from someone. Now that she had experienced it, there was no way she could go back. It was just another way Tony had opened her mind to new possibilities. 

As his lips moved across hers, she felt complete.

"You are worth it, Ziva," Tony whispered against her lips, his other hand coming around her waist and holding her in place. "I'll show you every day until you believe it."

-.-.-

Tagging: @benedettabeby @earanemith @tivafanfic

[ladyaster]

Hi! Long time no discussing the greenbeans here and I am trying to provide this ship with more regular food but the current art I'm doing of them is taking a while (haven't been doing it as regularly due to college taking priority) so here's some Lyn x Rath headcanons in the meantime:

One of their favorite shared pastimes is just gazing at the sky together. No matter the time of day, whether it's watching the clouds or the stars, they love to sit down and stare at the sky, sometimes making small talk, reveling in each others' presence and marveling at how vast and prismatic the sky can be. Neither really draw (at most Lyn's had some painting lessons in Caelin but she never got enough practice), but they wish they could to just capture all the skies they've seen, blue, silver, orange and red streaked in rose and gold, dark violet flecked with jewels, but the best skies they'll always have etched in their memories forever.

They also spend a lot of time together taking care of the horse, and after being shown enough kindness by her between being pet or her helping brush it or sneaking it an apple, the horse really likes Lyn a lot and perks up whenever she walks by. Once it was clear Lyn got along that well with his horse, Rath realized she was the one.

Lyn helped Rath learn to like rain and snow again after he spent so long dreading it due to living out in the wilderness for so long. Snow especially: when they were getting closer to the Black Fang's hideout and were camping out on in the snowy mountainside, she taught him how to have a snowball fight and while she had the early lead on him, he learned fast. There was no definite winner by the end but they both just had so much fun, and upon mutually collapsing side by side in the snow, for the first time she saw him actually truly smile (he's had light attempts at smiles that lasted about a second that were mostly for reassurance in the past, but emphasis on "attempts"). That was her own moment of going all "Oh shoot, I love this man."

Snow might be more special for them but they do like getting caught in the rain and running as fast as they can through the puddles and the downpour to get to shelter, or especially the feeling of cuddling up for warmth under the blankets while it's absolutely pouring outside and listening to the rain bounce off the roof and the walls.

Rath can listen to Lyn talk about her life in the Lorca tribe all day. At first it's because he can't remember what it's like to live with your tribe and he wants to culturally reconnect in any way he can, but he also knows how important her tribe was to her. He knows better than most what can happen if you're never able to talk with someone about your pain, and besides that, it's genuinely fascinating what she's able to teach him between customs and stories and everything in between. He also loves seeing how enthusiastic she can get about her culture, and her lengthy talks are equal parts bittersweet and heartwarming.

Post-game when they get married Lyn does feel sad that she's considered legally of the Kutolah in spite of being Lorca at heart, but Rath insists that he's legally a part of the Lorca, too, and with their union, as long as there's a Kutolah, there will always be a Lorca.

Sue basically acts as the solidifying factor of this idea as she's raised to understand both of her parents' cultures. They celebrate holidays of both Lorca and Kutolah cultures in the household and if they have the same holiday that's on a different date depending on the tribe, they celebrate it twice.

Speaking of Sue they absolutely dote on her like crazy. They never want any of the hardship that happened to either of them to ever happen to her so they constantly let her know how much they love her, either by telling her multiple times every day, teaching her to fight so she can survive the "rising of the dark star" Athos foretold, or wanting to learn more about her own interests. They're super proud of her deep connection with the spirits of nature and how, yeah, they're raising her well but she's also just genuinely a sweet, gentle person. This house is never short on hugs.

When he and Lyn found out they were going to be parents, Rath made a little plush fawn for their future child (even if it took him a few attempts to make something that, a. resembled a deer, and b. didn't fall apart after a week since prior he only really sewed for clothing maintenance), and Sue used to carry it everywhere with her when she was little. It's now really beat up but even during FE6's canon she still keeps it with her after Dayan's able to give it back to her in the Sacae Route. Similarly, Lyn started getting into whittling around the time the plush was made to stay preoccupied until Sue was born and she could go back to swordplay again, but she genuinely ended up enjoying the hobby so she kept at it after the fact and got pretty good at it over the years, so Sue has some of her mother's salvaged wooden figurines in her bag with the old fawn, too.

Even if Lyn starts out very iffy about Dayan, Dayan really respects Lyn and very much approves of her and his son being together. He's heard a bit about the whole Lundgren business in passing and after being told about the fight against Nergal admires her as a war hero. Not to mention she's normally a very warm person and can see how happy she makes Rath while he's still more withdrawn. (also headcanoning that Rath's mom is still alive until Zephiel's attack happens and she is sassy and as such likes that Lyn has a lot of fire in her and won't take sass lying down and will dish it right back if she needs to)

I CAN KEEP GOING

[clonerightsagenda]

I was rambling on the issue of museums and human remains and how certain populations are more likely to have their bodies put on display to be gawked at and then went "well I guess the Pompeii casts were of Europeans. there are bones in there right?" and Googled it to make sure, at which point I confirmed that yes there are bones in there, but more interestingly DNA testing revealed that a cast of an adult holding a child everyone assumed was a mother and child were, in fact, a man and a kid entirely unrelated to him. Honestly that's more moving to me. Maybe they were connected in a way other than blood, but maybe a stranger saw a child when the world was ending and thought the one thing he could do was hold them.

[0ffbeatqueer]

This is my new favourite headline I've seen all year lmaooo

[ideas-ideasideasideas]

Batman gives each of his Robins a different code to use when they’re in trouble and need immediate extraction. He promises that when they call, he’ll drop everything just to get to them, come hell or high water.

Jason, during his time with the League, shares his code with Damian, to be used “only in the direst of circumstances, when you have exhausted all other options.” He doesn’t know if Bruce will answer, given how fractured their relationship was before he died, but it is better than nothing. Every tool counts when they live such dangerous lives.

Damian uses it exactly once, and Bruce, who still feels the loss of his son like a yawning chasm in his chest, responds to it even though he knows it can’t be Jason because Jason’s dead. What he finds, instead of Jason, is a boy in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-small feet, with a face that Bruce sees himself and Talia in, requesting asylum from a grandfather who wishes to possess his body. Bruce doesn’t question how this boy who is so clearly his son knew the code. Talia al Ghul is resourceful and places family above all; the code is not beyond her abilities to discover, and she is not above using Bruce’s desperate love for his dead son to ensure that hers does not meet the same fate.

Bruce takes Damian in, because of course he does, and since Jason is dead he allows Damian to keep using the code. After all, it’s not like Jason is alive to use it, right? If someone uses the code, there’s no one it could be but Damian, right?

The next time the code is used, Bruce traces the location to Gotham even though Damian was supposed to be in Bludhaven visiting Dick. But whatever happened that resulted in Damian being in Gotham can wait, because he has already failed one son and he will not fail another, his son is in trouble and he needs to get to him, he needs to—

What he finds, instead of Damian, is a boy (just eighteen, too young, but also too old, but also he will always be a boy to him) in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-large feet (when had he gotten so big), wearing the face of his dead son.

(Who, maybe, just maybe, may no longer be so dead.)

[bacchuschucklefuck]

couldnt draw my thang for mid-autumn so treated myself to a calne redesign instead

[jujujusillies]

We have decided not to go out with that guy because he told us that he is a republican, ewwie 🤮🤮 -Robin

[kaladinsspear]

New bucket list dream:

Have the time, spoons, and money to train enough to go play at Muscle Beach in Santa Monica California.

[aerequets]

the mortifying ordeal of being known

--

I think with Yor being so perceptive, she picks up on little things often (like we saw in ch 103). i believe this would impact loid more so than the usual person, because he is a spy and fakes every part of himself, so to be seen is simultaneously desirable and horrifying. like, it makes him torn between wanting to accept and reciprocate the love, or distancing himself so that it doesn't happen again.

thats mostly what the last panel is about, that dichotomy between 'omg this person noticed this about me, is this love' and 'oh shit this person noticed this about me, is this Doom'

just some thoughts i had🤪

[notbecauseofvictories]

I don't know how strictly accurate this is, but one of the things I find shocking about watching historical dramas is how many people there are around all the time---according to Madame de... (1953) a well-off French household in the Belle Epoque maintains a workforce of at least 3, and the glittering opera has staff just to open doors. According to Shogun (2024) you can expect a deep bench just to mind your household, and again, people who exist to open doors.

Could people....not open doors in the past? Were doors tricky, before the standardization of hinges? Because otherwise, the wealthy used to pay a whole bunch of people to do it for them in multiple contexts, and I find myself baffled.

[xxdigitaldream]

various album covers