#NOW WHERES THAT REPRESS JON?!

[totalshockwaves]

Happy 13th birthday to the Take A Vacation! album! Sorry one of ur daddies is a hermit who's only seen recently, like, once every like six months! At least your other father might show up on social media to say happy birthday!

[conflictofthemind]

The way I see it, there’s three to four distinct possibilities for this flashback if it’s related to a plot point and not just a tiny snapshot of the past.

1. Will had his eighth birthday specifically mentioned in the shed scene, where he got a box of coloured pencils and drew the famous rainbow ship. This is interesting because of birthdaygate and rainbowshipgate both being big theories; specifically the whole birthday thing needing to be resolved in Season 5.

It was mentioned that Lonnie left around 4 years prior to Season 1, which matches with this timeline as well. Therefore:

2. This is a snapshot of Lonnie’s abuse of the boys witnessed when Mike was there. This could serve as a great callback to Lonnie’s mentioned homophobic abuse of Will, and I’ve theorized for a while that Mike was witness to this and only added to his repression of his own sexuality.

3. This was when Lonnie left and they built Castle Byers - with the additional information that this supposedly is apart of Episode 4, this seems possible. I have an entire theory that Mike and Will visit Castle Byers in the Upside Down during that episode for a while now. It was mentioned only Jon and Will built the fort, but this could be Mike’s first witness of it and a snapshot of he and Will playing.

Then the next possibility because the boys would have been eight years old in 1979:

4. The flashback is connected to Henry’s banishment to Dimension X in 1979. I know of a few people who have theorized that this date is important in Will’s life to (from him being involved in the creation of the UD to this being the split point of a timeline). It could also be tied to any of the previously mentioned scenarios as well, except Will’s birthday. The one reason I do think this is unlikely is that there are only scripted lines for Mike, and having some massive reveal here feels like it calls for a larger scene with actual dialogues than the casting call implies.

[glow-worms-are-believers]

In the name of love (and gossip) dc x dp

The day had been going normally. Tim had been having breakfast with Cass when Bruce walked in bleary-eyed with a grunt in greeting as he went for the coffee machine. He and Damian has stayed out later than usual yesterday night, as a concession for the fact they couldn't patrol due to tonight's charity gala. Damian was currently staying with Jon, and would be sleeping at the Kent's for a sleepover night.

"Mr. Fenton will be in attendance for tonight's gala," Alfred said as he walked into the kitchen.

Bruce look up so quick, Tim swore he heard his neck crack. "Danny's coming?"

"Indeed, Master Bruce."

"Cat Grant is still on the guest list?"

"Yes, sir," Alfred answered dutifully.

"Perfect," Bruce said as he let a smile stretch across his face before he stood up. "I have some errands to run, I'll see you tonight," he said as he swept outside of the room.

Tim frowned at the strange behaviour before he turned towards Cass who just shrugged and went back to her breakfast.

"Who's Danny?" Tim asked Alfred as he stood up to get himself another cup of coffee.

"Mr. Fenton and Master Bruce were quite close when they were younger. The media went so far as to call them childhood sweethearts," Alfred started as he swapped out the espresso pod Tim had gotten out of the pantry for a decaf one, which had the teen pouting. "When Master Bruce disappeared for his 'backpacking trip through Europe', Mr. Fenton became distressed and made quite a fuss, going so far as offering a reward for information. Eventually, Mr. Fenton acquired a daughter and mostly retired from the public eye." Alfred paused before letting the corner of his lip curl up ever so slightly. "Still, when Master Bruce returned, there was apparently a very explosive and very public confrontation between the two of them. I am told it involved a good amount of tears and shouting."

"Tears?" Tim asked incredulously. Were they talking about the same emotionally-repressed man?

"Just so," Alfred answered with a nod. "They met up a few times since, but it has been a long time since Mr. Fenton was in town. I imagine tonight's gala will be very interesting."

This was disappointingly boring, Tim thought to himself as he sat by the drinks table. Everything had gone as usual, with schmoozing left and right while Bruce charmed the pants off the Gotham elite. Tim sighed. He didn't even have Dick to joke with, since he was on a mission off-planet. Just as he was considering calling Steph to allay his mounting boredom, a hush fell onto the ballroom. All heads turned towards the entrance, where Tim could see a man looking to be in his early-to-mid-thirties walking in with a young woman who bore him a striking resemblance. Both of them were quite attractive and looking very dapper in their obviously high-quality clothes but that didn't justify the crowd's reaction.

In the ensuing silence their arrival had caused, Bruce's greeting of "Danny," seemed very loud. The answering, "Bruce," was just as loud and the two exchanged a charged look and a nod before they both turned away from one another in concert.

Sound gradually came back to its previous level, but now Tim was intrigued. He grabbed a few hors-d'oeuvres and shoved them on a plate as he swerved between guests until he could get up to the balconies, for a better vantage point.

This was the batkids' favourite hideouts during galas, as it was great for making fun of some particularly snobbish guests. Tonight, it would serve for spying on the mysterious Danny.

As the night progressed, Tim noticed both Danny and Bruce giving each other longing looks when the other wasn't looking. On one occasion, Bruce even left a sentence unfinished as he caught sight of Danny, before he shook himself out of it and apologized. His conversation partners just looked at each other with gazes charged with meaning as they brushed off the apology.

At some point, Tim noticed Danny excusing himself from the conversation before he walked out of the ballroom. A moment later, Bruce did the same and followed him out. Tim polished off the last of the appetizer before getting himself back down.

He walked out cautiously, looking around for the two men when he heard voices coming from one of the smaller adjacent hallways. As he crept closer, he chanced a look around the corner to see Bruce and Danny talking to each other. He walked in closer to get a better view, only to quickly duck out of view when Bruce looked in his direction.

As Tim walked back further into the hidden nook, he had to stop himself from shrieking when he came into contact with a body.

"Yo," whispered who Tim now recognized as Ellie, Danny's daughter holding a cup of the punch and looking very relaxed.

"Hi?" Tim whispered back still trying to calm down his beating heart. "What are you doing her-"

"Shhh," she interrupted him, as she looked towards the two men. "They're getting to the good part."

Tim followed her lead and turned his attention back towards the two men.

"... I just wonder sometimes, what could've been," Danny looked into the distance wistfully, before he turned back towards Bruce, longing in his eyes.

"It's not too late," Bruce said passionately as he took the other man's hands. "We can still try again."

"No, Bruce." Danny took his hands away reluctantly, as if the very action was painful. "We're no longer the people we used to be." Then, he smiled, aching and fragile before continuing. "We have different lives now, there's no use clinging to the past."

"Danny please," said Bruce as he raised his hand to cup the other man's cheek tenderly. With a wretched sigh, Danny's resistance seemed to break as he let himself nuzzle into the larger man's palm, looking as if he couldn't help himself from seeking its warmth.

"Well, I'm up," Ellie breathed out before downing her cup. "Wish me luck!" she said as she walked off before Tim could get a chance to hold her back.

"Dad!" she called out loudly, as if completely oblivious to the atmosphere.

Danny tore himself away from Bruce's grasp guiltily as he turned towards his rapidly approaching daughter.

"Ellie," Danny said as he visibly collected himself. "What are you doing here?"

"The party was boring so I went to find you." She pouted. Then, as if just noticing the man, she exclaimed, "Mr. Wayne! We didn't have the chance to talk earlier, it's been so long!"

"Hello, Ellie," Bruce answered back warmly, despite looking still a little raw around the edges. "You've grown a lot since I last saw you."

"Well, I sure hope so," Ellie said jokingly. "It's been what, five years?"

"Yes, it has," Bruce answered, but he was looking at Danny who was doing his best to avoid Bruce's pleading gaze.

"If you're tired of the party already, why don't we go home early?" Danny suggested studiously avoiding the other man's eye.

"Really? We can go?" Ellie asked hopefully.

"Yes, sweetie," Danny said as he ruffled his daughter's head playfully.

"Dad! My hair!" she whined, as she patted it back in place. "Alright, give me a minute to get my bag, then we can go."

With that she started turning away before she stopped herself and turned back towards Bruce. "You should come visit us sometime, Mr. Wayne! Dad wouldn't say it but he misses you." With that, she turned with a twirl of fabric and started walking towards the ballroom. Danny ran a hand through his hair as he sighed.

"You missed me?" Bruce asked, one part teasing and one part hopeful.

"You know I have," Danny looked up at the taller man, sounding defeated yet fond.

"I missed you too," Bruce breathed out as he brought his face closer and closer, until their lips were almost brushing-

"Mr. Wayne!" A voice came from the ballroom.

The spell broke and once again, the two men separated.

"I have to go," Danny mumbled as he took the chance to extirpate himself and start back in the same direction his daughter had gone.

"Danny, wait!" Bruce got out. "Could I really come visit you?" he stuttered out breathlessly.

Danny stopped, but didn't turn around as he answered in a voice clearly rough with emotions. "You'll always be welcome, Bruce. You know that." And then, he walked away.

Bruce kept his eyes glued onto Danny's departing back, until the other man's figure was swallowed in the crowd and disappeared. The sigh he let out was full of melancholy, but when he looked up again, his gaze was determinate. A beat later, he followed Danny into the ballroom.

Tim stayed where he was for a moment, just contemplating everything, before he started to move, but before he could come out of hiding, there was a movement in front of him. Freezing in place, he looked on as Cat Grant came out of what seemed to be her very own hiding spot. She looked around for any witness before she too snuck back towards the ballroom. Tim let his head hit the wall behind him.

What the hell had just happened.

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: It Takes a Fool to Remain Sane

Summary:“Everything is fake. Everything in the world is fake. These people are fake, they’re made of metal. But I like you, and that is not fake.”

Aka i damijon’d the football scene in young royals to make it vaguely fit canon

It was a mistake, being here, Damian thought to himself, watching the socialites chatter, all placing their masks on to secure a business deal, marry their children, climb the social ladder. 

He was on his third glass of champagne, barely feeling a buzz. If he had his way, there'd be a new scandal on the front page of the Gotham Gazette featuring his dumbass at this gala he’d been dragged to.

Damian needed to forget, forget he was here, forget Jon, forget what had happened just hours before. And what better way than to drown it all in stupidly expensive bubbles?

He sipped, watching his father laugh, his own boisterous mask on for the people. Drake, bargaining and writing off people, being the spectacular business person Damian knew he’d never be. He wouldn’t take over Wayne Enterprises, and despite the things drilled into his head that both the Bat and Wayne legacies should be his, he was glad, deep down, that he would never have to be this. 

Still, fake. All of this was just so… fake . What was even real here anymore? Not one of these people were genuine, everyone cold, unfeeling, every word a move on the giant chess board that was Gotham’s rich and famous.

Jon had been real. The thought popped in his head, bringing unwelcome feelings with it, images, memories of things he was currently trying to repress. He picked up another glass and brought it to his lips. This was stronger than the last one had been, and was sure if he kept going down this road there would be no returning.

His league tolerance to this kind of poison hadn’t been properly exercised in awhile. All the better for him, to leave everything in the past.

Damian held the stem of the flute tighter as sounds of memories sharpened, hair being pushed away from his face in a sweet loving gesture, tearful voices that developed into anger, a blur shooting into the sky and leaving him.

”You need to find out where your head's at, Damian, because when it comes to us, I’m only listening to here.” There was a tap over his heart, and he caught the hand, holding it there, a rush of some emotion flooding through him, something so familiar now to the both that they barely made note of it anymore.

He knew where his heart was, what it wanted. But his head was the thing keeping them both afloat. What would happen when the inevitable did happen? When he realized Damian was too broken, too dark, too much of a burden to carry? Not there enough, too many secrets. 

A tiny, logical part of his brain reminded him that he’d stuck around all these years, seen him at his worst, stayed when things had surely crossed the line of just plain platonic.

He held onto that like it was a rope lifting him out of the anxious spiral of a dark hole he’d dug himself into.

This could be managed, this could be forgotten, but closing him off sounded better to his addled mind, locking his heart away could keep it safe. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Grayson piped up, asking the question, ”Are you really? Or are you hiding? Running from your problems?”

 Better to have loved and lost, to have never loved at all.

Before Damian could realize what was going on, he’d reached his limit, Tim catching notice and excusing himself with a laugh and wave from the business elite circle.

”Damian, are you serious?” His older brother hissed, a note of worry evident in his voice. He had stood him up, holding onto his arm to keep him from swaying. ”How much did you drink?” 

Not enough . His brain supplied helpfully, still functioning too well for Damian’s own liking. Unbeknownst to him, he’d said it out loud, just low enough for Tim to hear.

”The hell do you mean, not enough? ” He dragged him to a quieter place, stealth training and well timed smiles from the both of them allowing to escape undetected, Tim grabbing a water glass on the way out. They wound up in a corridor, and Damian dutifully took the water, holding it but not drinking it. 

“Look, Baby Bat, whatever happened today, I need you to get over it because right now I do not want B on my case about this. Stay out of there until you’re somewhat sober.” Tim tapped the glass in his hands a bit. “Drink that, don’t talk to anyone.”

Damian nodded, and the emotions he’d been running to bury surfaced. God, this was pathetic. It must’ve shown, because the concern grew from his voice to his features.

“We’re going to talk about it later.” He ruffled his hair and swept out of the hallway, leaving Damian to go stumbling into the gardens. He sat on an old white bench, uncomfortable and made of marble. 

The dim lights seemed so bright, the way the moon shined off the dew on the flowers and grass nearly blinding. 

It seemed wrong that something so beautiful should have him there, but for the life of him couldn’t consider why. 

The music from the party inside leaked out and he turned, folding his arms on the back of the bench and setting his chin on top to watch through the windows.

There was shrubbery in the way, but the windows were so large that although the bushes hid him from the inside, it didn’t hide the inside from him. The people laughed and talked and danced, trading off from one partner to another, each showing carefully chosen cards.

He spotted his family, each surrounded by people who wanted to pick his brain, make a deal, marry into the Waynes, offer some corrupt thing or the other.

Bracelets, watches, necklaces, earrings. Chains. It was as if they were nothing but robots, tied to this hard metal mask they put on for show, controlled by their families, who they worked for, or even just their true selves, some inescapable. 

Even in the night, when they went out, dressed in kevlar and dark colors. It was all fake. Fake and cold and metallic, trapping them with only a few real things.

How clear it seemed now, something that he’d only briefly considered. What was real in his life? What did he know was truly real?

Not what his completely sober, rational brain had to say. What his being, his soul, his heart felt was real.

Damian swiped open his phone, finger tracing the photos of him and Jon he had for his background. He dialed a number, not really thinking, something more of a habit than anything.

“Jon. Jon.” He whispered into the phone, words slurring just a bit to be noticeable by someone with super hearing.

”Dames, wha?” Jon’s groggy voice came through the speakers, sounding a tad bit annoyed, but mostly heavy with sleep.

“Jon, I've figured it out.” Damian was sprawled back on the bench, one hand in the ground picking at blades of grass. He tugged on a lone flower, rolling the stem between his fingers.

”Figured what out? Wait, are you on something right now?” There was a rustling sound, as if he were getting up.

“You see, everything is fake.” he tapped the ceramic animals at the feet of the bench, before repeating, “Everything is fake. Everything in the world is fake. This gala, nothing here is even real. It’s night, but the lights are all on. The outside is so bright. But it’s nighttime. Why’s the outside so bright it's nighttime, Jon?”

”Oh my god, you’re drunk, aren’t you? Did one of the fancy kids drug you or something?”it sounded like air was whooshing through the speaker on Jon’s end.

“Maybe a little. See, all these people are fake. They’re made of metal.” he paused, looking up at the sky, still holding the flower. The silence went on a few more seconds, before he whispered into the night again, a warm breath creating a puff of steam into the cool night air.

“But I like you. And that is not fake.”

He barely had time to react before he was met with the sight of Jon, still in pajamas consisting of sweatpants and a hastily thrown-on shirt, tennis shoes without socks shoved on his feet, untied.

His hair was a mess, but Damian thought he’d never been more beautiful. Jon’s face scrunched up, and he realized his lips were parted and he’d said it out loud.

“You came.” He stated. “You’re beautiful.”

Jon gaped at him for a few seconds longer, before going to pick him up off the bench. “You smell like alcohol. Damian, sit up.”

He pulled him into a sitting position, and Damian leaned forwards. “Are you mad at me?”

Jon only sighed, picking him up and putting him on his back. “Come on, Dames. Let’s get you home.”

The next morning, Damian woke up, light from the curtains stabbing through his eyelids and a foreign presence sitting at the foot of his bed. He squinted, just barely making out the outline of jon, half-asleep in an upright position. There was aspirin and a glass of water on his nightstand, but all he wanted to do was turn over and go back to sleep, ignoring the pounding headache last night had brought him. 

He shifted, but in doing so woke Jon, who called his name in a whisper. Damian groaned, waving a hand at him. Jon got up and closed the curtains, before standing at the side of the bed. 

“Do you remember anything about last night?” His voice was quiet, soft with a note of hopefulness.

A shot of embarrassment flooded Damian as fuzzy memories pieced together in his mind. He’d called his best friend in an inebriated state, said some frankly truthful things, one of which being what was probably a plain confession of his feelings.

“Vaguely.” he murmured, voice raspy with sleep. “I apologize. I remember enough to know I said…things.”

Jon slipped under the covers next to him, chest pressed to his back and chin on his shoulder. “Don’t apologize. We can talk about it later.”

His arms wrapped around Damian's waist, and he whispered, voice muffled by his shoulder. 

“I’d much rather you let me hold you for a bit.”

Things weren’t fine, not by a long shot. There would come long conversations and arguments and compromises, tears and harsh words and yelling. But the storm would clear, sooner or later. The storm would clear and they’d mend it with each other. Their love was very real, tangible in a way. They’d waited for each other for forever, and now, it was within reach.

“I’d like that.” Damian responded, shutting his eyes and leaning back.

Things weren’t fine, but they would be.

[mamawasatesttube]

a tuppence for your bi4bi Clois thoughts 🪙... I'm luv them so much and I'd love to hear if you have any specific headcanons about them 🥺

YESSSS!!! i DO have some thoughts. i love them,

generally i think lois has her bisexuality figured out by the time she's in her mid-20s. she and cat grant have had some rage-filled makeouts on at least one occasion, but an actual relationship would never in a million years work out between them. they respect each other but do not see eye to eye nearly enough. she never bothered to come out to her father, but just knows it's one more thing about her that he'd hate.

clark, by contrast, does Not have it figured out. he has spent his entire life repressing every single thought, feeling, and ability that set him apart from the classic good all-american boy because he had to fit in. and being superman, exploring his kryptonian heritage, etc., has helped, of course, but he is still. so repressed. he has no idea that he's ever experienced attraction to guys before. he's got some internalized homophobia to work through, about himself. He Has To Be Normal. so as far as he's concerned, there was lana, and then there was lois.

to me, clark's journey toward self-acceptance is very intrinsically tied to his family. there's kara, talking about how sexuality and gender stuff on krypton wasn't like it is on earth, especially in western culture. there's kon, suffering through his own repression and depression and trying to pretend he's fine. there's chris and jon, both too young to fully grasp it all (probably), who make clark incredibly aware of every step he makes in terms of parenting them.

so one day, after kon's finally come out to the family, and kara's muddled through trying to figure out earth labels that she's comfortable with, the two of them decide they wanna go to pride, and ask lois and clark if they want to make it a family affair. lois says hell yeah, and clark says yes of course he's happy to support them! and jon says YAY, GLITTER!! CAN I GET STICKERS? and chris says if you get glitter all over my nintendo ds again i will punt you into the ocean, baby brother or not.

and there's just this innocuous moment while they're out when kon goes "here i got you these!" and hands lois and clark two simple lil heart-shaped bi flag buttons. and lois is like aw thanks squirt! and ruffles kon's hair. clark meanwhile goes oh i think there's been a misunderstanding... ... . . . .. . .. .. . or. has there?

and that night he's just sitting on the edge of the bed holding this tiny like $3 button in his hands having a whole crisis. lois hooks her chin over his shoulder and asks what's wrong? and he's like. lois i'm not. i'm. except maybe i'm not not. but i don't know, i thought i... i never thought i could think about it. clark kent is supposed to be normal. i... i'm already an alien, lois, i thought i was already set apart enough, and if i'm... if i'm this, even when i'm clark, not superman, then... then...

and lois digs her matching little $3 bi flag heart button out of her purse and bumps it against his and says, even if you are queer, you're still not alone. and then clark gives her the patented kent family big soft puppy-dog eyes. that night, he falls asleep in her arms with his head tucked snugly under her chin. it's where he feels safest.

but the next year, he lets kara get him a flag, and lets kon tie it around his shoulders like a cape. and he's here as clark kent, but it's kind of funny when he looks at his shadow. because he might not be superman right now, but the silhouette still looks the same.

[lagosbratzdoll]

On Daenerys, Colonisation and Race Discourse within the ASOIAF Fandom

This has been on my mind for a good long while and honestly, as much as I would like to leave discourse in the pits, it has been bugging me intermittently over the past few weeks.

Far too many of you get on here and call people who like the fictional dragon-riding family, neo-Nazis and that sentiment is so prevalent, that white people feel comfortable telling me a black woman that I am a neo-Nazi for rooting for Daenerys Targaryen. I am upholding neo-Nazi power fantasies for wanting to see a little girl live at the end of a story. I am a neo-Nazi for wanting to see the rape survivor have the family she aches for and children with the man (or men) she loves.

Then, those same people go on spiels about how the systemic erasure of those who sing the song of the earth and other old races is not colonialism. That their removal from their home is not displacement but an agreement between two equal parties. The fact that the only place where those who sing the song of the earth exist in the present timeline is north of the wall, surrounded by the bones of their dead, is not a travesty. That the expulsion of the old races from their home isn't that bad and should not be condemned. 

Instead, people argue, completely seriously, that the harm that the First Men and Andals have caused is centuries in the past, so essentially the slate has been wiped clean. The logical leaps that are required to arrive at such a boneheaded conclusion are truly mind-boggling, and those who make such arguments are not good people. 

I am unsure how one could read those books and come away with the impression that the old races do not mourn the loss of their home. I am unsure how one could read The Last of the Giants[1] and Ygritte’s reaction to both the song and Jon’s dismissal of the ethnic cleansing of the giants then believe that the old races and the free folk have moved past their displacement. 

In Westeros, from the Wall to the broken arm of Dorne, they all speak one language despite the fact they are all different ethnicities and they all landed on the shores at different times. That is not the case in Essos, we have been introduced to at least six languages and in A Dance with Dragons, Tyrion notes that the Valyrian spoken in the Free Cities has evolved into nine distinct dialects, and they are well on their way to becoming different languages.

How would a continent as large and diverse as Westeros maintain its hegemony over the people if not for forced assimilation, discriminatory practices and violence? The brutal repression required to keep one house in power for thousands of years is nothing to sniff at. The suppression required to keep the vast majority of Westeros worshipping one (or seven) gods. The systems in place ensure that language does not grow or evolve amongst the highborns at least.

Centuries before Aegon's Landing the maesters were the definitive educational authority and even now centuries after, nothing has changed. The grey rats still decide who learns what and when they learn it. There's one in every highborn home, all correspondence passes through them, they are the healers and the councillors.

The circular logic gets even more blockheaded when you factor in the fact that Daenerys is far from the only white character in the books. She is not the only character who wishes for home. She is not the only character who draws strength from her ancestors, her bloodline and her magical creatures. 

Cersei draws strength from her family’s iconography, and the Stark children (Jon included) all draw strength from their direwolves, their home and their blood. Sansa, Arya and Bran wish to return home and their home was built on the indiscriminate murder and displacement of the indigenous peoples. Their home is built on centuries of rape, murder, exclusionary practices and sexual slavery. 

However, if we give the nonsensical argument that time erases crimes air; the Starks, Lannisters and Tullys are warring to settle personal grievances in the present timeline. As a consequence of that war, thousands (a modest guesstimate) of small folk, minor nobles and even some major ones have been raped, tortured, maimed and killed.

Despite all this, no one writes meta after meta about how Sansa and her siblings must surely die for justice to be had for those who sing the song of the earth, the free folk, the giants and all the old races that fled beyond the wall.  

People write meta about Cersei and how she must die, but those are typically more misogynistic nature. They typically argue that she must die not for the “crime” of being Lannister, but for the “crime” of being Cersei and “ruining” Jamie. 

I would not mind criticisms of Dany and her peace-focused approach to ending slavery because the approach is naïve and she gives the slavers far too much ground. However, she is learning, growing and self-critiquing. At the end of A Dance with Dragons, she has decided to embrace fire and blood, her knight is breaking the false peace which is a necessary step forward.

What I find offensive is people saying that she should have planned better before she abolished slavery. And that the death, violence, and sickness that arises from her quest to eradicate slavery is somehow worse than the death, violence, and sickness that already existed in Slaver’s Bay. 

This argument often downplays the horrific conditions and suffering that exist(ed) under the slave system in Slaver's Bay. Such arguments are often in poor taste and prioritise the lives and comforts of the slavers more than the people they have enslaved.

I would not mind criticisms of Dany if people applied that same critique even-handedly. The same people who believe that Jon and Bran have done much to rectify the evil that their ancestors perpetuated believe that Dany has not done anything to right the wrongs of her ethnic kin. They praise them for the non-existent steps that they have taken, but in the same breath, they condemn Dany for not being able to immediately end the plague that is slavery. 

It is perfectly alright to not like fictional characters, no law requires you to like certain fictional characters over others. However, what is not right is making broad accusations about those who do, it is beyond the pale. It is disgusting, and annoying, and trivialises real-world issues to score cheap points against fictional characters.

Equating the survival of a teenage survivor to the restoration of a fascist house or neo-Nazi power fantasy when such designations do not exist in the world of ice and fire is strange behaviour. Saying that the teenage survivor will eventually be manipulated and raped (again) before ending up dead on her manipulator's blade is also strange behaviour. 

Dismissing the horrors of colonialism, especially when the text shows you that the involved parties are still affected by it, is not normal and often veers into real-world imperialism apologia. While criticism and analysis of characters and their actions are valid and even encouraged, it is essential that we do not resort to sweeping generalisations about other people and that we keep criticisms of characters grounded in the text. 

[1]  

Ooooooh, I am the last of the giants, my people are gone from the earth.

The last of the great mountain giants, who ruled all the world at my birth

Oh, the smallfolk have stolen my forests, they’ve stolen my rivers and hills.

And they’ve built a great wall through my valleys, and fished all the fish from my rills

In stone halls they burn their great fires, in stone halls they forge their sharp spears.

Whilst I walk alone in the mountains, with no true companion but tears.

They hunt me with dogs in the daylight, they hunt me with torches by night.

For these men who are small can never stand tall, whilst giants still walk in the light.

Oooooooh, I am the LAST of the giants, so learn well the words of my song.

For when I am gone the singing will fade, and the silence shall last long and long.

[lazuliquetzal]

Fic Stats Game

Ohoho thank you @tavina-writes for the tag!! Pretty sure this is gonna be the same 3 fics over and over but we'll see :)

rules: give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the fewest words.

1) Most Hits

It's AA Batteries (Daiya no Ace). I know this without even looking, it's AAB 100% and by... not a significant, but a decent lead. That thing breached containment. I'm glad that it did, because I had fun writing it, but it always surprises me because sports anime twin OC fic? Really?

But I'm glad it's my most popular fic, even if I don't consider it my best, because even if it's a canon rewrite, I finished a 100K+ fic and I am proud. I'm literally never over it, I could talk about it all day.

Like, I usually don't ship things very strongly, but Misawa is insane to me. Also, do you know how embarrassing it is to relate to Miyuki Kazuya? And not even in a 'generic repressed character' way, I'm talking in a Hey I Literally Was In His Shoes And Made The Same Exact Fucking Mistakes And Decisions way. Nobody gets Miyuki Kazuya like I do. I'm fucking Miyuki kin. I didn't ask for this. I didn't--

2) Second Most Kudos

This one is also AAB, so I'll go with first place: Reflection (The Magnus Archives). A classic. A nice and simple time travel fix-it comedy.

I remember the writing of this one because I had been utterly obsessed with TMA. It would not let me go. I drafted the early chapters on my phone while walking across my college campus. I almost got ran over by a bike when I was writing the "Martin witnesses Jon have a mild breakdown in the break room" scene.

3) Third Most Comments

Dawn of the Fourth (Linked Universe). The LU fandom is super giving with their comments! Probably the most comment-friendly fandom I've been in.

I think it also helped that DotF is one of those stories where every chapter is a punch to the throat lol. If you didn't comment after ch7, it's probably because you zoomed through haha.

4) Fourth Most Bookmarks

It's DotF again, so I'll go with third place: ain't no rest for the wicked (Naruto).

Ah, this one... I'm fond of it, in the way I'm fond of all my writing, but also I was in high school. There's a lot about it that I would do differently now. But I learned a lot from writing it, and actually Chie, Issei, and Riku are still my children and I love them all. I'm proud of the color test. :)

5) Fewest Words

If you ignore the Zelda comic and the CSS formatting test and the anonymous April Fool's fic that I will not be claiming ownership of publicly, my shortest fic is Blackout Blues (Daiya no Ace) at 1101 words. If you subscribe to the belief that a picture is worth a thousand words, then that bumps the word count up to 4101 words.

I should draw more art for my fanfic. I have the power. It's fun.

tagging (if you want!): @yellowocaballero @xxsolar-writesxx @ellie-tarts @zarvasace @dottie-wan-kenobi and anyone else who wants to!

[jonathan-samuel-smith]

Guys guys guys guys what if I write a JonDami star trek au fanfic where Damian is a Vulcan and I explain what that means for all you non-trekkies in the story.

Soul bond, t'hy'la, touch telepathy, mind melding, emotional repression down to an exact science, bowl cut Damian, hand kisses. Damian responds to his fascination with Jon by studying him like an observational science project. Jon's like "he's stalking me, he totally wants to be my friend! I'm going to go up to him!" And Damian tries to run away because it will interfere with his data if he interacts with the subject but sorry Damian, kryptonians are faster than Vulcans and can see you through bulkheads.

Omg what if Jon's like "he doesn't like hugs so I'll start smaller with hand holding"

and Damian is like "why are you making out with me?!"

Jon is like "wdym my lips aren't touching you."

"You kiss with your lips, yet you eat and talk with them as well. How curious!"

"So if we're kissing right now why aren't you pulling away? Do you li~ke me?"

"Tt," He pulls his hand away blushing green "in your dreams."

"Sounds like my dreams must be pretty mundane in that case~" Jon says, leaning in.

"It is only fair I return the opportunity to experience new stimulus." Damian pecks him on the lips. "That is so weird..." He says, standing and walking away.

Jon puts his fingers to his lips, blushing. "W-wait up!" Jon says, running after him.

Some lore: Talia chose Bruce to challenge her betrothed and he won and they weren't even dating yet but now they're married.

Jon is the son of a human and a kryptonian but his parents met when his mom was doing a story on Kal-el's crew instead of Clark being the last son of krypton.

They're both kids on a constitution class ship that their fathers are captain and first officer on. Lois is often with them but does leave from time to time to cover interplanetary news.

This is so niche!

[chrisis-averted]

Jon blinked a couple of times, adjusting to seeing from the eyes in his skull while leaving the ones floating around the theatre to monitor the situation. The multiple points of view gave him an headache. He glared at Nikola, voice muffled by the gag as he tried to greet her in turn. “How Rude Of Me,” Nikola extended two fingers to grab the corner of the adhesive tape, but stopped. “Now, If You Try To Compel Me, It Wouldn’t Only Be Incredibly Rude But There Will Be Consequences, You Know That, Right?” Jon’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. Nikola ripped away the tape, uncaring of the pain caused, but didn’t do anything to untie the ropes binding him. “I have no intention to disrupt your little Ritual, Nikola…” Jon glared at it as it sat elegantly on a chair next to him. “No, I Imagine Not,” it giggled, wrapping a cold arm around Jon’s shoulders, its fingers caressing his hair, “But You Did Attempt To Bring Your Little Arsonist Friend And,” the corners of its ‘mouth’ shifted downwards dramatically, like a greek tragedy mask, “We Do Not Like Him Around Here.” It spoke in Leitner’s gravelly and slow voice. Tim. Memories of the accident resurfaced, the Stranger saying they’d wait for the ‘next group’. Where are the others?! The nervous clicking of his tymbals quickly descended into a low chittering growl. “If you harm them, I’ll end you and your silly—” “Tut-Tut!” Nikola’s hand dipped down to the nape of Jon’s neck and he struggled to repress a full body shiver when he felt its fingers sink into the skin and slide down, pulling the seams of the Container apart, slowly opening him up like a ragdoll whose stitches were getting undone. No, no, no, no.

[belle-of-a-time]

Because the rot consumes here’s

Batfam-Soul Eater AU

Bruce is a weapon and he’s a gun. And he fucking hates it like Despises it

Talia turned him into a death scythe but lord death never makes him transform. He’s just a strategist and a teacher now.

Talia is a witch but she hid it until after she made Bruce a death scythe.

Also Bruce’s like honor code is a little different here since “no killing” is kinda silly when the only reason the academy exists is to kill kishins he thinks A: everyone is constantly teetering on the edge of madness all the time. And B: it is a moral failing if you succumb to the madness. Which is why he didn’t go after the joker after Jason, because doing so would have been giving in to the madness.

Dick is a meister

He bounced back and forth between Barbara who is a grappling hook and also a meister and Kori who is some sort of lava cannon or something.

Barbara got Severely hurt during a fight while wielding Jason and had to stop for a while. She’s back at it though, helping Bruce as a strategist and as like “Mission Control” Bruce is guiding her to take over for him someday.

Dick now fights with Wally who is his like electric escrima sticks because speedster=lightning in my mind.

Jason is also a gun but he thinks it’s Very cool. Barbara was with Jason when they were assigned to take down the joker who is a kishin egg. He killed Jason and severely injured Babs.

Jason was revived by Talia because obviously, using the black blood and he was overtaken by the madness for a while before being pulled back towards sanity by his friends.

Hes partnered with Roy now who Does have A daughter Lian. Teen pregnancy stuff. You get it.

Tim is a meister. He can resonate with anyone but he really struggled to find a weapon he really clicked with. So he fought by directing his soul wavelength for a while.

He met Bernard who is a bo staff and they clicked and are now partners.

Steph used to fight by herself using a non person weapon, no one is really sure where she got it. But now she and Cassandra are partners and No One but Steph and maybe Bruce and Barbara know what kind of weapon she is all anyone can tell is that she’s something small, she can also see soul wavelengths.

There’s a good chance though that when you see Steph alone that Cass is actually transformed and concealed somewhere on her person

Duke is a weapon who fights alone (like Justin law) I don’t know what kind of weapon but it’s something weird and COOL he’s got to be really super cool. It definitely glows and he can like “enchant” (not really the word I’m looking for but it works) it with his soul wavelength to like resonate/boost his own attacks.

Duke is the closest to becoming a death scythe of the batfam.

Damian is PISSED that he wasn’t born a weapon. He really really wants to be a death scythe, so it bums him out that he can’t.

I think it’s really funny if he Is actually a weapon but he’s even more repressed than Maka so literally no one knows.

That or Talia tried to ensure he’d be a witch and it backfired somehow and locked away his weapon transformation instead.

He’s partnered with Jon who is a sword

Damian is absolutely determined to make Jon into the youngest death scythe ever

Jon does not particularly care either way he definitely wants to become a death scythe but isn’t super bothered by timeline but if that’s what Damian wants god damnit he’s going to try his best!! Jon is very Tsubaki core to me. They are the tsu/blackstar combo of the batfam.

Back to Jason, Bruce understands Jason’s struggle with the madness and just really really wants his son to talk to him but he never ever gives ANY indication that he’d react well or even Want to talk to Jason about anything. Especially when he keeps reacting so high and mighty and preachy when Jason is Worse at dealing with the madness than anyone else.

Other—non batfam—headcanons

Clark and Lois are a death scythe/ meister combo In that order. They’re off doing shit constantly and Kon ends up basically taking care of Jon most of the time.

J’onn is a teacher (also a weapon) at the academy in my mind the like struggle with madness is split off onto Bruce but the like rest of stein is in J’onn mixed with Sid’s like dad energy.

J’onn is the teacher that Everyone goes to for advice about basically anything.

Also J’onn is a weapon who can change form like Tsubaki can but he’s got A Lot more forms. He can see wavelengths. And attack with his own wavelength. He’s basically super overpowered but he hardly ever has to fight.

Barry is a death scythe nuff said

All of the like magic users in the justice league including aquaman because… fish. Are witches

Zetanna’s witch form/animal form is a lion because she gives me ringmaster vibes? Idk.

Constantine’s animal form is the wettest saddest rat you’ve ever seen. It’s also huge. Also he is Literally trading off pieces of his soul and he looks SUPER freaky to anyone who can see souls

The main villain of the arc is the league of assassins. Run by witches. The academy and the justice league witches team up to take them down. They’re trying to turn the joker into a full blown kishin using the black blood which is a stand in for the Lazarus pits. I’m thinking like full on Pits of the stuff and everyone has to donate blood to the pits every time they walk past. All these assassins are Covered in self inflicted cuts so they can donate their blood.

When people displease Ra’s they get bled out into the black blood. Like draining an animal style. So ominously hanging over the pit by the ankles bleeding out into it are like a lot of bodies. And in the center in like a cage half submerged in the blood is the joker and they bring him all the souls after the people bleed to death.

They do kidnap J’onn at some point, also Tim, and Bernard, and idk Lian for the drama

So rescue mission! Also kill the joker! Is the main finale.

[atopvisenyashill]

🔥2, 13, 23 for the violence ask game!

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

have i made the joke before that ned is like that burt kreischer joke where he’s never been with a man bc he’s worried he’ll like it too much. i think nothing has ever been near ned’s ass bc he’s secretly afraid it’s gonna Mean Something and while being a cis guy and wanting to bottom does not mean anything re: sexuality, it DOES mean something for ned’s sexuality and he is captain repression here so. i think catelyn is always fighting the urge to ask if she can peg him but they’ve definitely done some positions that got like close to it and she could see the fear in ned’s eyes of realizing he likes men and getting dicked down so she spared him bc she’s a loving wife.

13. worst blorboficiation

for the main series……….it’s kinda hard bc i think jon And dany both get mischaracterized often in fandom but it feels different than “blorbofication” which to me is like “taking this character and making them my wittle cutie” and that’s not the vibe i get from those two…………..OH WAIT ITS LITTLEFUCKER AKSJSJS the way those people were crying screaming throwing up when the starks killed him in the show “how dare they those tyrants they didn’t even give him a trial look at him he was so scared” this is a monarchy what do you think a trial and sentencing look like, they accused him, no one defended him bc he’s a creep with no real friends, they executed him, that’s feudal justice babeeeeeeee i hope he goes out like a crying lil bitch baby in the books too!!!!

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

i don’t feel like i ever come around on ships i feel like i become more of a hater over time.

maybe ever since i saw the sailor’s wife theory i’ve become a bit more fixated on tyrion & tysha. i’ve always found the idea that tyrion gets off scot free and is hand at the ending to be wildly unsatisfying as an arc - what tyrion wants more than anything is romantic & sexual acceptance bc his sexuality & attraction is in equal parts denied and demonized by the people around him but tyrion is so sexually traumatized he’s incapable of being romantically vulnerable with another even tho he craves it and so he pretends like what he really wants is to be the viserys to someone else’s baelor, aegon, and daeron and the idea that That’s the ending he gets, he gets to continue to not engage with the way his view of romance & sex is so distorted and pretend like being surrounded by these nasty people is what makes him happy is not bittersweet to me it just sucks! BUT. if it’s the other way around. if tyrion gets a reunion with tysha, to meet his daughter lanna, to set them up in casterly rock as his heir and lady wife, but then like goes to the wall or something? NOW WE ARE COOKING. lann the clevering casterly rock out from under the noses of those god awful freaks and giving it to his lowborn wife and daughter, and then being forced to LEAVE BEHIND the politics that are making him SICK i think there’s something interesting there personally and i’ve become very fixated on the concept.

[tizzyizzy]

Izzy, Homophobia, and Lucius

A lot of people have taken the scene on episode 5 where Izzy confronts Lucius and Pete to be confirmation of Izzy being homophobic, but I think this is an oversimplification. I also think there is a tendency to misremember the scene in hindsight, altering the tone and context.

Izzy walks in on Lucius and Pete having just finished Sexual Activities. He comes in with his coffee, leaning against the frame. "Get back to work now, all of ya," he says. Notably, he reacts with more aggression to Wee Jon asking for coffee than to the gay sex.

This is not a dude whose first reaction to seeing gay sex is surprise, disgust, or hatred. He's just chilling, sipping his coffee. His concern is the slacking off, not the sex.

But then Lucius sasses back at him, and it is here that Izzy becomes overtly confrontational.

So Izzy isn't lashing out due to homophobia, but the questioning of his authority. Like Jon's coffee request, Lucius isn't viewing Izzy with the respect he believes he's due.

The thing about homophobia, or any bigotry, is that there is a sliding scale of severity.

Izzy's mockery and insults focus on his perception of Lucius's effeminacy. The high pitched mock giggling, "bitch", "seductress", whatever the fuck the daddy thing was. Clearly Izzy sees these traits as potential weak points he can mock.

But again, Izzy doesn't go out of his way to harass Lucius about this stuff. He resorts to them as insults when provoked. If Lucius hadn't threatened his authority, he wouldn't have sought him out to bully. Sure, Izzy might not think highly of those traits in his head, but he's content to let a femme gay guy bang as long as he's done working.

His beliefs seem to tie into his overall toxically masculine worldview. No emotional attachments (loyalty to the captain is noble, unlike pathetic love). Project a foreboding aura. Anger is the only acceptable emotion.

So while I think it is technically correct to call him homophobic, I can't really agree with assertions that Izzy's homophobia is a horrific, potentially irredeemable character flaw. Nor that is his primary motivation for trying to separate Ed and Stede.

We're dealing with a character that is a repressed gay guy in a pirate culture of toxic masculinity. It's not fair to treat his homophobia as equivalent to that of someone who would attack gay men for kicks, a fundamentalist who preaches that sodomites burn in hell, or a conspiracy theorist who calls LGBT+ people child molesters.

This doesn't mean his homophobia is OK, obviously. But this is the homophobia of a guy who worked on a ship crewed entirely by leathermen, so let's keep our reactions in proportion.

[haraways]

Big Bad Wolf

This is for the prompt Wolf from @jonsaprompts its later then I anticipated but I’ve been tired after work. I truly don't think this was what was in mind when the prompt was issued. Also it turned out longer then expected as well.

Pure fluff with some trauma sprinkled in there for spice.

Happy Halloween!

It was ruined.

She'd worked so hard on it too. After school and her homework was done, she'd hid in her room, working away at it, not wanting her family's constant input and teasing. This was going to be her last Samhain, where she could go trick or treating without adults getting all weird about it. (One adult last year made her cry because she was already taller than her peers. Arya took great offence to this and kicked the middle-aged man in the shin before telling them all to run.)

But now her hard work was ruined.

"I'm so sorry, Sansa," Rickon's little voice wobbled as he covered his mouth with both hands and made a beeline for the washroom. An afternoon of eating chocolate non-stop had upset the little boy's stomach and brought it back up all over Sansa's sparkly white princess dress.

Sansa did her best to repress the urge to cry as her bottom lip trembled and tears threatened to fall.

It was ruined, and there was nothing to be done. She didn't have a backup, and none of her old costumes fit anymore. She had the little red riding hood costume from the play last year, but the hood was the only thing that still might fit.

Sansa ignored her mother calling after her as she raced up the stairs to go hide in her room. On the first landing, she collided with another person. 

"Careful." her brother's friend Jon said. She had forgotten Robbs' friends were over playing D&D, of all things. They did it every Saturday, and Samhain was no exception. Most boys their age would have been at one of those awkward teen parties, but according to Robb, Jon, Sam, Theon and Edd, they were "boring, and it's only delinquents who go to those." They were such nerds; when Sansa finally got to high school the following year, she was NOT hanging out with them. 

Jon garbed her arm gently to prevent her from tumbling down the stair. Jon had always been a gentle boy. He roughed it with the best of them most days, but sometimes he would be sullen and quiet, needing to remove himself from others and just sit for a while. Sansa had seen him more than once disappear into the backwood with that great big dog of his only to come back hours later. For this reason, Sansa didn't like Jon all too much growing up but her attitude changed toward him quickly this past year when Ramsey Bolton decided to grab her in a nasty way. It was Jon who defended her; he let out a furious cry as his fist met with Ramsey's face repeatedly. It was how Jon became the Wolf in the school's fairytale play instead of Ramsey, whose face was too messed up to do much performing.

Sansa knew it would have been an even worse fight if they had been adults. And if they were adults, Sansa knew the Ramsey might have tried to do more than cup-a-feel.  

Jon had cried after, along with Sansa. Regretting letting his anger become too hot. It was something he had been working on for years. A trauma response, he explained, using an explanation that sounds a lot like how an adult would explain something. After that, Sansa went out of her way to be nicer to Jon, pleasing both Robb and Arya with her efforts. 

So it was not completely unordinary for Jon's face to shift from bewilderment to alarm at the tear-stricken face of Sansa.  

"What happened?" He asked, eyes wide as he took in the chocolate vomit that covered the front of the dress.

Sansa's chin wobbled again as embarrassment made her face and ears hot. The perpetual fear of being laughed at gnawed at her for only a moment when she remembered that this was Jon.

"It's spoiled." She sniffed.

"Oh." He said a little dumbly. They stood there awkwardly as Sansa sniffled, and Jon didn't know how to comfort a girl. The gross scent of vomit and chocolate became stronger as it dried.

"I'm going to go shower," Sansa muttered, wanting to run away before her night got any worse. Jon nodded and finally let go of her arm. His fingers flexed at his side awkwardly as he seemed to realize just how long he had been holding her, despite the danger of falling having passed.

"Is there anything you need?" Jon asked earnestly.

"Not unless you can pull a costume out of thin air." Her jaw began to ache, and her throat had a lump as she made her way up the stairs, not bothering to hear Jon's answer. She just wanted to be alone now and wallow in a bit of self-pity.

The sparkly makeup washed away, and the smell of vomit was replaced with Fresh Dornish Citrus™️ . Sansa felt better.

She felt better but was still a little sad that her last Trick or Treating opportunity had passed her by. She couldn't bring her siblings out as a chaperone either. Rickon was obviously staying home, and Arya and Bran had left with their friends already.

After changing into one of her comfy nightdresses, the one that reminded her of a grandmother with thick fills around the arms and neck and was meant for cold northern nights. Sansa flopped onto the bed with the intent to wallow.

Sansa must have fallen asleep because the next thing she knew, there was a knock on her door. 

"Sansa?" the voice called.

She let out a hum of acknowledgement before she felt like drifting back to sleep, but the knocking persisted. 

"Sansa?" the voice called again, it was Jon's voice, and Sansa popped up from the bed quickly, wiping her cheek from the small amount of droll that had gathered on her cheek. She got up from the bed and pulled the door open.

"Here." A piece of fabric was thrust at her, along with fur-cuffed gloves that had little claws at the end. She recognized these. it was the sleeping cap with ears on it and the gloves that matched from the play last year. The ones she made for Jon after he got the Big Bad Wolf role. She'd been so proud because it only took her one try to get it right. 

She hadn't known he kept these. Why would he still have them? 

She looked up at the red-faced Jon, who was huffing and putting from sprinting down the road and back again. 

"What?" she tried to ask, truly confused. 

"You're in your night dress already," he said, a grin growing on his face. "Do you still have the red hood?" he asked.

"Yes?" she answered, sounding like a question. It would have been cute to dress Rickon in the hood and have her be the Wolf, but he was not going out anymore. 

"I'll go with you; there's still plenty of time." He went to step into her room, but his face turned redder before thinking better of it. 

"I'll be downstairs." And with that, Jon abruptly turned and set off. 

Sansa stood in the doorway for only a moment before a warm bobbly sensation began growing in her chest. Jon was going with her! Her Samhain wasn't over yet! Despite her happiness, that nagging self-doubt voice grew as she remembered that he was here to play D&D with his friends, not to take her trick or treating; she would just have to go on her own. She shoved the hat with ears on her head and slid the too-big gloves on. She would give Jon the out when she got downstairs because that sweet boy didn't have to go out of his way for her. She found the hood hanging in her closet where her mother had placed it. She would take it to him just in case, though. Treasure found she headed downstairs. 

There was a lot of chatter coming from the living room as she turned the corner as was surprised to see all of Robb's friends waiting for her; in costumes! All the boys (except Jon) had either cape or chainmail, with swords or staffs as accessories. Edd even had a whole braided, blond wig on with a stuffed dragon. 

Sansa stared in bewilderment.

"Oh good, you found the cape." Jon walked over and took the hanger from her hands. She was too stunned to offer up a way out to Jon. Jon handed the hanger back as he flung the cape over his shoulders like he's been doing it his whole life. 

"I don't understand," Sansa muttered. 

"Of, this is how we always play D&D," Jon said, shrugging. "It's Samhain, so it's a special D&D night." 

"Yeah!" Edd called, "We're to escort a Druid girl who got cursed as a halfway transformed wolf and help her collect the items she needs to break her curse." 

Sam nodded proudly; he obviously came up with this side quest for the adventures. Robb walked over, placed his hand on Jon's shoulder, and smiled too wickedly for a Paladin.

"and Jon here, as the Ranger, is the only one who can understand you fully; lost as you are between animal and person." 

Jon shot Robb a look Sansa didn't have time to understand, and her brain was catching up to the excitement. She wanted to say a million things, thank them, question them, and accuse them of making fun of her, but only one thing came to mind. Sansa turned to Robb, who was now suggestively wigging his bows at Jon? 

"Is this why you had me make the cloak?" she gasped out, "I thought it was because you were getting up to the wired things with your girlfriend." 

The boys roared with laughter as Robbs' face grew to a red as bright as his hair. They started fileing out of the house, happy to be trick or treating and joshing Robb as boys often did. 

Sansa felt a hand take hers, and she looked up at the gently smiling face of Jon, nearly hidden by the red hood.

"Let's go trick or treating." He muttered, pulling her slightly towards the door. She looked down to where their hand were clasped, strong enough to pull her slightly but loose enough that she could pull away if she wished. A big smile broke across her face, her cheeks turned pink to match Jon's own, and she nodded.

"Okay."

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: Goodbye Was Not Our End

Summary: Jon and Damian had made peace with the fact that they would never reconnect. Every little part of their childhood history, built up since preschool had come crashing down, both leaving hidden feelings unsaid. But now, five years later, they have the opportunity to fix everything that had gone wrong, and maybe, just maybe, they could make it something more.

Sometimes, all you need is a second chance.

set directly after A Robin's Song

The phone was taunting him.

It was dark green, a silver W on the back, and a clear case with a robin on it, and currently it was lying on the floor after being viciously thrown to the carpeted floor of Damian’s apartment.

Said person was pressed up against the bottom of his bed, mimicking a frightened cat, hair raised and all. Tears had dried quickly as the shock quickly overcame every other emotion in his mind. 

The phone buzzed and he jumped, crouching down to poke at the tech and flip it over before drawing his hand back.

This could not be happening. 

When everything had first occurred , he’d been plunged into the deepest, darkest canyon of his mind and emotions, no way out and no one to help him. He wallowed and oh, how he tried to drown himself in the abyss. 

He’d begged no one and everyone for a second chance, a moment back, just one more glimpse of what their lives had once been. His nights had been filled with quiet sobs and fitful sleep, before eventually going numb. 

Everyone around him tried to lift him up, help him out, save him from drowning. There was therapy and medication and the thing that was there when he finally, finally, finally had a grasp on the rope to be lifted out, was his family, his friends, and his music. 

Slowly, busying his mind with the music, he built his life back up, starting something new for himself.

And now?

Now he felt like he was back where he started, the repressed memories and the joy and the excruciating heartbreak overwhelming him, all topped with a healthy dose of fear.

He shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. It was a conversation. He had wanted this conversation for so long, and had always dreamed of a moment where he could try and get back what he had missed for so long.

When he opened his eyes, he made a grab for the phone, immediately clicking on the message saying he had a new DM. 

Written across the screen were the words “Hey, D. Missed you.” 

He turned around and promptly screamed into his pillow. Something burst inside of him, something fearful and tentative, but at the same time hopeful.

So, so, hopeful.

He typed in a response, deleting it just as soon as it appeared.

What do you say in a situation like this? 

An ‘i missed you too’ should suffice. He scanned the little box and deleted it. Too longing in the way his voice read it back to him

Should he just type back a hi? Maybe a familiar nickname? Was he still allowed to call him that?

Every little thing was put on trial and was thrown out, and before he knew it, fifteen minutes had passed.

He gave up, getting up to pace around his home in an attempt to shake the anxiety filling him. 

Their cat, Alfred, jumped on the counter as Damian began to brew some tea, absent-mindedly running his fingers through the cat’s short fluff.

“What am I doing?” He murmured to him, voice softly mournful. “What are we doing?”

Alfred meowed at him, and Damian nodded wearily. “Wise advice, Alfred.” 

He inhaled the steam from his tea, wrapping his hands around the mug and absorbing its warmth.

Damian retrieved his phone after a bit, clicking on a few messages he had missed with the friends he’d kept from high school, plus someone from the studio he grew close to as he had first started out in his career.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

gotSkyhighdreams: My 2 gradrs hate me u guys [cleanup.img]

Turninurfuckinbooks: this is why i don’t allow paint around small gremlins. 

Colinator: could never be me fr

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: rip sky

flyROBINfly: hey you guys something happened

Damian took a screenshot of the dm and cropped it, watching their messages pile on top of each other on screen.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

Turninurfuckinbooks: what did you do.

gotSkyhighdreams: did you kill someone 

Colinator: if you did i’ll help hide the body if u need

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: same just say the word an ill bring a shovel

flyROBINfly: do any of you watch my streams

Turninurfuckinbooks: not unless a compilation or an edit of u being stupid shows up

Colinator:same tbh

UunmatchdwittyandQUEEN: if the internet doesnt shut up abt a certain interview 

gotSkyhighdreams: when im on my lunch break ye

flyROBINfly: first off akira colin you are both dead to me

Second do you guys remember jon

Damian winced as the phone began to blow up, practically jumping from his hands with the pings that began to blow up his phone. It was a rather stupid question but he asked it anyway.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

Turninurfuckinbooks: do we remember jon he asks

Colinator: jon, who you ask me abt every six months without fail bc i have his instagram

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: jon who is forever known as that bitch in my heart

gotSkyhighdreams: nono we don’t at all remember the drama of the year that brought us together and kickstarted ur career

Turninurfuckinbooks: who you still pine for but have mostly forgotten about so you say

flyROBINfly: there has been no pining fuck off

Colinator: swear jar

flyROBINfly: anyways [screenshot.img]

gotSkyhighdreams: R U SRS

Turninurfuckinbooks: TF????

Colinator: WHAT

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: EXCUSE ME?!?!

flyROBINfly: what do i say???

Turninurfuckinbooks: block him

gotSkyhighdreams: say hi back??

Colinator: ask him for his insta so u can check urself

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: block him

flyROBINfly: so so helpful, all of you

never mind i’ll deal with it

The responses were overwhelming, but he felt petty and ignored them, setting his phone down and picking up the cat, setting Alfred on his stomach as he leaned back on the couch of the apartment.

“I’ve waited for this moment a long time, Alfred.” he informed the cat. “So very long and every planned thing left my mind the moment I saw him again.”

“What do you suppose he’s done now? Heard he got married, maybe he has a kid.”

Alfred meowed at him and he nodded. “I suppose you’re right. What would I ever do without you?”

That was how Duke found him thirty minutes later, lying on the couch having an avid conversation with their cat. 

He dropped his keys on the entrance table and his messenger bag hung on the coat rack, Damian sitting up.

“I am having a crisis.”

“When are you not?” Duke responded dryly. 

“Sarcasm is unbecoming and quite frankly patronizing at this moment.” Damian sniffed, Alfred wiggling out of his grapes and stalking over to Duke, rubbing his fur all over his ankles.

“I’m assuming it has something to do with today’s stream, right?” Duke pulled out his phone, waving it at him.

The online articles were blowing up, as well as various platforms. “I thought I'd ask you first before clicking on this.”

The feelings returned, an anxious churning sensation swirling around him and creating a lump at the back of his throat, pressing down and making the tearful feeling rear its head.

“I…it's Jon.” He pulled up the message and held it out, watching the impact of the words settle on his brother’s faces, eyes moving across his screen multiple times.

“Kent? Jonathan Kent? Are you sure it’s him?” He squeaked.

Damian nodded, the initial shock and feelings having faded slightly, although the remaining ones were funneled into anxiety, leg bouncing rapidly and fingertips tapping out a familiar rhythm.

“Did you respond?” He shook his head and Duke made a pained noise.

“So, you've been waiting for this for five years and the thing you do is leave him on read?”

Damian looked horrified. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God, he must think I'm such an asshole.”

Duke winced. “Well, I mean, this is a very telling moment for the both of you, I'm sure he understands, just respond.”

“What do I say??” Damian agonized over the phone, draping himself on the couch, and Duke was about fifty percent certain that their younger siblings spirits had come to possess Damian with their dramatic natures.

“Just say Hi. A simple hello, how have you been?” Duke prompted, nudging him. “If he’s an asshole, you know the rest of us will beat his ass for you.”

“Swear jar.” Damian said half-heartedly.

“I’m an ADULT!”

Duke got up but not before nudging Damian on the shoulder “I’m going to go and do some work, and when I come back, I expect to see a message sent.”

“I am older than you.” Damian scowled.

“And when you act it, I'll acknowledge that.” Duke had a shit eating grin on his face. “Dames, you mothered all of us pretty well til you left the house, so feel free to act your age or whatever.”

Sighing, Damian stared at the familiar logo on his screen. Nothing elaborate, just a diamond S in blue, red and yellow. They’d made them when they were younger, Damain creating the R symbol that came to be well known.

With a deep breath, he typed back, staring at his screen and waiting for the little bubbles to pop up, showing Jon was typing back a response.

It had been three hours since he’d sent the message to Damian, the typing bubbles popping up and dying back down just as quickly. The jumpiness caught up to him, obsessively checking his phone and pacing up and down his hallway. 

Kathy Brandon, someone he’d met his freshman year of college and quickly bonded with, had sent him links to people talking about both him and Damian followed by a demand for an explanation. Talking about it had calmed his nerves a bit, but he was still jumpy.

He’d gone out an hour after to pick up something, and had returned slightly more relaxed. He was attempting to edit the article he’d been assigned, procrastinating on his Chem homework, when finally, finally finally, a notification lit up his phone. 

Jon_Kent 

Hey, D

Missed you.

ROBIN_Offical

Hello, Jon. 

You already know I share your sentiment.

How have you been? It’s been…awhile.

Jeez, looks like sometime in these past few years Damian had swallowed a dictionary. Or was he upset? A grudge was understandable, but the way he’d sounded on the video…

Jon knew both of them wanted to reconcile, even if this new way of communication was slightly off-putting.

Jon_Kent

I’ve been alright.

lots of ups and downs from the few years

what about you? How’s ur family?

ROBIN_Official

They are doing well, as am I.

Duke and I have been staying outside of Gotham U

stephanie often stays with us

Are you still in Metropolis?

Jon winced at the way the conversation was read out. It was stilted and awkward, even over text. There was nothing relatively interesting about this, unlike when they were younger, never an awkward moment left between them, never running out of things to talk about.

Jon_Kent

yup, still here

Gotham U, huh? Thats not too far from here

ROBIN_Official

no, not very

I’m glad I was able to talk to you again.

Damian’s heart was pounding as he hit send. The message could be received in a few ways, and he hoped he wasn’t being too forward too early into the stiff conversation.

Jon_Kent

me too damian

I wasnt lying, i have missed you

i feel like this is a conversation better held in person then over phone

ROBIN_Official is typing…

Jon chewed on his bottom lip, having moved from the table to the kitchen counter. He wanted to see him in person, see the change and the things time had eroded from the image in his memory. Surely, in person the conversation would flow more, bring an atmosphere much closer to the way they used to be.

ROBIN_Official

Would you like to meet sometime this week?

I will have to check my schedule but i believe i’m free this friday

Damian was lying. He knew for a fact he was free on Friday, hell, he worked from home most days and could get away with driving to Metropolis tomorrow if he wanted, but rushing headfirst into a situation that required time most of all was something he didn't want to do.

Jon_Kent

that sounds good for me!

theres a nice little cafe around my apartment

we can meet up there if you want?

ROBIN_Official

sounds good. Send me the address and i’ll see you then

It sounded much more like he was organizing an appointment, but that was fine. God, he said yes. Jon let out a breathy laugh, hand over his mouth and he read the words again and again. 

Little footsteps pattered into the kitchen, and Jon set down his phone, looking down at a little girl with tanned skin, raven curls, and freckles.

“Daddy, hungry.” 

He smiled softly, lifting her up and setting her on his hip. “How does mac ‘n cheese sound, princess?”

Damian sat up, the anxiety resurfacing with a topping of nerves churning in his stomach. He took a screenshot, sending it to his friends, before announcing to Alfred the cat,

“Well, this Friday, I'm going to see my estranged best friend, who I pined for uselessly for somewhere around four years, and who I most certainly no longer have feelings for. We’re going to talk it out like the adults we are, and everything will be fine. How has your day been?”

The cat’s judgemental stare and incredulous meow was the only response he got.

[gruesomejack]

Oh, he was in trouble.

Andy quickly scurried back to the corner of the couch, his green eyes wide on the dog that growled at him. "Nice puppy..." He whispered and hesitated before glancing towards the back of the cabin where the masked man disappeared to. What the fuck was going on? Had he really been picked up by THE Jack Rabbit? Honestly, he thought it'd been just rumors until the man had cornered him near the falls. And God, he was so embarrassed he didn't try fighting back, but the shock of being scooped up like he was nothing left him pliable in the man's arms as he was carried back here.

Rabbit made his way back into the room with two towels. He dropped one in Andy's lap before setting the other down on the arm of the couch. Staring at him, he slowly lifted the mask off his face and gave his wet hair a good shake.

Wait- Wait? Despite being obscenely and shockingly gorgeous, Andy knew that face. He stared back and dropped his jaw, but before he could speak, the man chimed in for him.

"Long time... no see. Campbell." The words were slow. His voice was rough from disuse and settled in Andy's stomach in a way that made him embarrassed. This was Jon Stone. The Jack Rabbit killer wasn't only just someone he knew, but someone he'd been personal with. "...Jonny?" He whispered, "Is that you?"

Rabbit's lips twitched at the name. Setting the mask on the end table, he picked up the spare towel and rubbed it through his hair. "...Not for a while." He answered and moved to sit himself down on the opposite side of the couch. Sniffling from the cold, wet conditions they'd walked in, he watched Andy with a quiet, curious gaze.

Oh, Jesus Christ. Andy glanced around the place and then back to the other man, his brows pinched together. "...Have you been out here this whole time?" He asked, his voice still soft. "By yourself?" As terrifying as this was, that idea was near heartbreaking. Jon had been a kid when the tragedy happened and then ran away. Andy couldn't imagine what it was like for him to be so isolated out here. "Jonny..."

Rabbit warmed. He'd expected more of a fight from him now that he knew who he was. Honestly, he really expected to have to kill him, but Andy was sitting there and just staring at him with those big dumb eyes. Wasn't he going to try and run?

Andy moved a little closer, only stopping when Rabbit seemed to stiffen. "You look really good for... a forest dwelling hermit." He tried and did an awful job at repressing the urge to move his eyes over him. Laughing a little, he wet the corner of his lip and shook his head, his brows furrowing. Jon had filled out. He strong and well kept in a way that you wouldn't expect from someone living on their own out here. Hell, he looked better than most of the guys with running water and electricity. His beard was trimmed, and his curls were brushed and shiny-- They'd greyed considerably since he'd last saw him, but it looked good. Foxy. He was hot. He'd always been hot, but this was something else entirely. "What are you-"

A shock ran through his body. There were warm lips on his own, offering him a clumsy, but needy kiss. Andy only hesitated for a second before his eyes were shut and his lips were parted to let him in. Heavy hands were on his chest, and soft whiskers tickled his cheeks-- He'd waited fifteen long years to kiss Jon Stone and God, it was... Really sweet. Literally, too. Rabbit's tongue was warm and slick, and those big teeth were nipping at his lips. Andy's arms were around him, one hooked onto his neck while the other pushed him down against the couch. Tilting his chin, he pushed further and-

Rabbit choked. Breaking the kiss, his head fell back, and his hips gave a shaky buck as a warm, pretty orgasm rolled through him. The man panted, and his cheeks grew pink, but there wasn't a hint of shame there. Lashes fluttering open, he looked at the man above him and sighed.

Oh. Andy blinked, his eyes immediately falling to his lap. There was a wet spot in the front of his jeans and a very satisfied look on his face that had his own pants growing tighter. Rabbit hadn't been touched in fifteen years-- Maybe not at all. Of course, he was sensitive. "Jesus Christ, Jonny..." He breathed, his voice a low rumble. Could he get him to do that again? Pulling his lip between his teeth, he stared at the man with shiny eyes before immediately tugging at his clothes.

They were both undressed. Rabbit was panting hard in his ear, his body trembling under his touch. And honestly, it'd been a light one. He'd gotten him to cum again with another deep kiss and a few strokes to the pretty cock between his thighs, spilling thick ropes on his fingers. It was the way Jonny stared while he licked his hand clean that he knew he was way in over his head here. He even tasted better than the guys in the city. Jon Stone was out here killing people in the woods out of some deep seeded trauma, but he was still perfect. Andy cursed.

"Can I..." Rabbit was staring at him, trying to ask something. Andy followed his gaze to his own thighs and the unfulfilled piece between them. With a crooked smile, he tilted his head and nodded. "Whatever you want, Jonny." He whispered, "Please touch me."

That answer seemed to hit a switch in him. Before Andy could comprehend it, he was pushed onto the couch, and Rabbit had moved himself to the floor to kneel between his legs. "J-!" Andy was moaning. There were lips around him and a wet tongue sliding along his head, and it was beautiful. Again, it was a little clumsy, but it was more than endearing, especially with how eager the man seemed to be. His hand was up and gripping soft curls while his back arched and he did his very best not to fuck the mouth on him. That would be too much for Jon right now; he had to let him learn and indulge in the curiosity he'd never gotten to. "That's so good." He purred and let his head hit the back of the couch. Scratching along his scalp, he moaned again while Rabbit kissed and sucked and lapped along every inch of him. "U-Use your hand too, honey." He breathed, encouraging him. As much as he wanted the little kisses to be enough, he had to admit it wasn't and he didn't want to go soft on him and make him worried he'd done something wrong.

Rabbit nodded and pressed another kiss against the base before wrapping his fingers around him. He stroked him and brought his mouth back to the head. The taste of salt touched his tongue as a bead of pre-cum leaked from the tip; he licked it clean and shuddered. Andy's breath was hitching. Rabbit took that as his cue to continue what he was doing, keeping his hand moving while he sucked and kissed at his skin. He'd daydreamed about being in this very position since high-school and finally--

"Jonny!" Gripping those curls, Andy bucked and came. He spilled hot and heavy between those lips with the feeling of his beard against his skin. Shivering and panting, he lifted his head to watch Rabbit pull back, his strange eyes wide in wonder. It was so gorgeous, he nearly choked. "Y-You don't have to-" Licking the dribble from his lips, Rabbit swallowed it and let out a soft breath. He gazed up at the other man from the floor and offered him the first smile Andy had seen on him since before his disappearance.

Rubbing his hand over his mouth, Andy cursed again and closed his eyes. He was in big fucking trouble.

[wcstcros]

"why didn't you kill me when you had the chance?" (jon to ygritte) @rcgued

𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝘃𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 , and it is moments like these where she full heartedly believes it. death is an eternal slumber , free from burdens such as 𝚓𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚗𝚘𝚠. falling in love with him was a sentence to die , she had him in her grasp , bow and arrow at the ready , but she couldn't strike. ygritte  ──── bold, fearsome , impulsive ygritte , gagged and bounded by a small crow.

it took no time to fall in love with him , but it has proven even longer to fall out of love. the arrow to her chest from one of his bloody brothers couldn't stop these lousy feelings , truthfully , she fears nothing will. it has been some years , much has changed. he was a king now , and something about it makes her sick. ygritte's heard whispers , heard how he's gotten tormund and the other's on his side. stubbornness and pride have prevented her from coming here , the only place that has guaranteed her safety beyond the wall. it was too dangerous north , and jon snow remained south. yet , if there was any hope in defeating death itself , then ygritte would have to face him.

❝ maybe i should've, ❞ she answers , voice heavy with resentment. her lack of action on him almost cost her her life. yet , she still regrets nothing and she hates herself even more for that. ygritte will refuse to give words to her feelings , to give him any satisfaction in knowing her heart beat very much for him ( it still did , but she wouldn't dare show that ). ❝ but then ya'd never getta be a fancy king in ya fancy castle with ya fancy clothes. ❞ she eyes him suspiciously , a smirk lining features upon the direwolf crest on his armor. 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎. ygritte would never understand.

❝ ya fuckin' the dragon queen now? ❞ the wildling takes several steps forward, tilting her head as she questions him. there's a swelling of jealousy that overcomes her , but she ignores it. she represses memories of the cave , of the love she had for him , unlike any others. 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 , 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 , she told him. no longer was that the case , it seemed. at least on his end , some part of her would always be jon snow's.

❝ ya fucked her , and then ya kneeled like all ya southerners do. ❞ there's a laugh , a head shake in disbelief. eyes flash to him once more , lingering this time. ❝ you still know nothin' , jon snow. ❞