#and he and their son died not long afterward

[isfjmel-phleg]

(I tried to put this in the tags but it wouldn't let me. Thank you for this latest chapter! I look forward to the completed story whenever you're able to get to it. And I'm sorry that writing this has to take you to such a difficult place, and I understand completely if you choose not to proceed with the next part, but please know that this story has meant a lot to me, and I'm very grateful that you are writing it.)

49: The Party

part one | previous | next | masterlist | ao3 version

instead of the first few paragraphs of this chapter going before the readmore button, I'm going to put a longer author's note. I hope you'll forgive the break from habit.

So, Strange Redemption matters to me a lot. I'm sorry about the often months-long breaks between chapters and grateful that many of you who've been here since updates were weekly have kept coming back. <333

In regards to future plans, I've noticed that it's easier to write Strange Redemption when I'm at low points personally. Easier to tap into Thad's headspace that way. Concern about that plus a healthier headspace plus the increased workload of my final year of college was what caused me to slow way down on writing and posting the story. Now that I have some breathing room in my life again, I've made the decision that I'm definitely going to finish at least the first half of my planned two halves of Strange Redemption. We're so close to the end of Thad's solo run!! We're almost there with him! I can hang in there until the end of this next story arc, which will conclude most of the story pretty well, in my opinion.

The second half of Strange Redemption I had all planned out to explore more original characters (some of you will know what I'm talking about—my darling clones Three through Ten). I honestly don't know if I'll write that half soon or at all, so I guess we'll find that out together! I have some great ideas for the hypothetical second half, if I do say so myself, but I'm restraining myself firmly from making ANY promises about it.

Thanks again! Back to the story!

Thad went to bed yesterday with vague fear lashing around in his head like wrestling metahumans, and he wakes up with the bones of that fear nestled in a lump in the back of his brain. He feels a plan forming. He lets it rest, that little lump of inspiration born of fear. Thaddeus knows how this goes.

He makes plans, because he’s a clone, because he was made to make plans. He ruins things because he was made to ruin things. He recognizes his own pattern.

In about a day, it’ll come to him. The Plan. The new Perfect Plan to dissect with CRAYDL.

Only this time, Thaddeus isn’t sure what the plan will be for. 

It’s something about what he realized yesterday: that he should be afraid, and he isn’t. Something about that thing he found out on the computer at the library weeks ago: that being struck by lightning can change your personality. Something about how terrifying it was to forget his new name when he was talking to the maid, and to realize how flimsy, how fake it sounded in his mouth, Sophos Thaddeus Anacletus Free. It felt like nothing. Less than nothing, less than calling himself Bart.

Something… about that. Thad stares at himself brushing his teeth in the mirror and lets the lump of soon-to-be-Plan grow, shift. The imaginary form of the Plan feels more real than his body.

Thad puts on a green plaid shirt with hands that don’t feel anything. It’s reassuringly familiar, this sense of removal. It’s a relief not to feel like a person for a while. He can sense victory in the distance, and with victory so close, secondary things like his physical body don’t actually matter.

Joseph comments on Thad’s preoccupation at breakfast. He points at Thad and raises his eyebrows—a question without content, just what’s with you?

And if Thad was with CRAYDL, he would have smiled wickedly and said Wait and see… and CRAYDL would have said aww, Boss! And Thad would have laughed and ignored it and CRAYDL would have cajoled until Thad divulged Yes, I'm thinking up a new plan. I’m not telling you yet… I’m still working on it… I think it’ll be good, though… really good…

He comes back to the present moment and shrugs. “Just something.”

Joseph looks at him, waiting. Takes another bite of pancake.

It would be so easy to tell him. Just like CRAYDL. But—

But Joseph isn’t CRAYDL, and why does Thad feel so safe, anyway? A lightning strike can change your personality. The lump of fear twists, and Thad swallows and shrugs again.

“Clone… stuff, I think,” he lies. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

The instant compassion on Joseph’s face is too much. Thad drops his fork and buries his face in his hands, suddenly overwhelmed.

He hates using “clone issues” as an excuse, he decides. It brings too much to the surface—things he’d rather stay down in the depths of him. His face is hot behind his hands, long lashes just like Bart’s brushing the palms of his Thawne hands.

Yeah, no. He’s not doing that again unless he has to.

Mortified for no good reason, he picks up the fork in his fist and starts eating again, avoiding looking straight at Joseph.

They finish breakfast in silence. Thad wishes Joseph would ask him again. Then he remembers he absolutely should not feel this safe around Joseph. Then he wishes it again, childish, selfish. He wants to be understood.

But they have ground rules, and one of Thad’s ground rules for Joseph was not to make Thad talk about being a clone. So Joseph doesn’t ask Thad anything else, although Thad sees his sea-green eyes tracking Thad anxiously.

Thad gulps down the rest of his breakfast and dumps his dishes in the sink with numb hands.

Thad spends the afternoon in his Plum room, drawing, unhurriedly putting his thoughts together into the beginning of a plan, and spacing out. He’s not sure how much he’s dissociating, but he thinks it’s a lot. The sun moves on the floor when he’s not looking and he finds himself stiff and sore from laying in the same position and has to move, wincing, to wake up his muscles and ease the pressed points of his bones.

In the evening, the guests arrive in ones and twos to Joseph’s party. Some fly, some are carried, others drive up the driveway. Changeling—or Beast Boy, Thad doesn’t know how the timeline has progressed this time—arrives as a cheetah. Thad watches from his tower window, scoping out the situation. His brain kicks into gear again, and he’s grateful for it. He needs not to be spacing out and losing time quite so much right now.

A little later, Joseph comes to get him. Thad pushes the scraps of plans even further back into his mind and smiles and nods and follows him downstairs.

Before they enter the study, Joseph stops Thad walking with a gesture. Thad stops and waits, looking at Joseph’s fuzzy green velvet vest instead of his face.

But Joseph’s hands don’t move in speech. The man clasps his hands against his chest, a strangely nervous gesture. Surprised, Thad looks at Joseph’s face. He looks worried.

Thad flinches. Worried—Joseph is worried about introducing Thad to his friends? Oh. Thad breaks eye contact, looks at the wall for a moment, then forces his eyes back to Joseph’s hands with all his strength.

Joseph signs, “Are you nervous?”

Thad shakes his head.

Joseph tilts his head at him, but Thad is already committed to the lie.

“OK,” Joseph signs. Then he puts his hands to his heart and smiles at Thad, crinkling up his eyes. “They’ll love you.”

Thad doubts it, but whatever. He finds himself smiling back at Joseph, charmed and amused by the hyperbole.

Quietly, so as not to be heard inside the room, Thad asks, “You introduce a lot of supervillains to your friends?”

“Lots and lots,” Joseph signs, grinning.

Thad rolls his eyes, making Joseph huff out a soft amused breath. “Whatever. Fine, let’s go.”

Thad slows time as he steps around the corner of the propped-open door to the study. It looks like the people here are comfortable, for the most part. Wonder Woman is standing at the window with her husband and the Gotham vigilante Nightwing. Nightwing is nothing to worry about for a speedster who knows what he’s doing, but Wonder Woman is a bigger threat. Danny Chase is cross-legged in an armchair, talking to Starfire, who’s sitting in midair in front of him. Neither of them is a threat, although Danny Chase’s intellect might be annoying to deal with. Cyborg is currently wrestling playfully with Changeling. Changeling is below Thad’s notice, no threat at all; Cyborg’s sonic capacities are to be steered clear from, even for Inertia. Raven—

Raven. Thad’s attention narrows immediately as he spots her, leaning comfortably on the back of an armchair. She’s already looking in his direction.

He pulls time to as near a halt as he can.

What will Raven think of him? What will she say? She reads minds, she’ll know about the Plan, she’ll know he’s lying to Joseph. The only possible hope here is that Thaddeus himself doesn’t fully know what he’s planning. Despite the immediate idea of pretending the Plan is something entirely innocent, an immediate image of Joseph bleeding out jumps to the front of Thad’s mind. No—no! He has to get a hold of himself. He’s not planning anything like that. Never. He’d never hurt Joseph Wilson. No more than he’d hurt Max, or Helen.

Maybe Thad is more nervous to meet Joseph’s friends than he thought.

Well, Thad wasn’t Inertia for nothing. He’s smart. He can do this. All he has to do is survive the introductions.

He lets time speed up again and steps into the room. Raven says nothing, just raises her hand and waves at him and Joseph.

Nightwing notices them enter a moment after Raven waves. He calls, “Joey!”

Everyone pauses their activities and looks over. Thad freezes, but none of them are looking at him in this instant. Every face in the room beams to see Joseph Wilson. They love him, Thad realizes with a shock.

They really love their “Joey”.

The old jealous void in Thad’s chest roars to life. He wishes he was like Joseph. He wishes he could step into a room and have everyone love him immediately.

Joseph’s hand comes down on Thad’s shoulder. It’s warm and settling. The void clutches at the sensation of physical touch, then settles down again. Thad feels it thrumming in him, a current of safety and surety tied to Joseph that the speed force put into him like pouring electricity into a wire.

Joseph lifts his hand. Thad clings to the memory of the touch.

“This is my kid, Thad,” Joseph signs.

Thad looks quickly out at the room to see their reactions.

Joseph’s friends nod and smile. A few of them—Starfire, Nightwing, Changeling—say “Hello” in cheerful tones of voice. Danny Chase raises an eyebrow. Raven smiles.

Thad doesn’t know what to say in this situation. The urge to chirp “Hi!” like Bart would occurs to him and he squashes that impulse with extreme prejudice. Instead, he adds some more identifying information.

“I used to be Inertia,” he says.

“Yeah, we heard,” Danny Chase says, bluntly but not unkindly.

Thad shrugs at him. “Redundant information never hurts.”

“It does if it’s boring.”

“Oh, stop, Danny,” Starfire laughs. “Just because you’re bored doesn’t mean the rest of us are.”

Danny snaps back, and conversation starts again all over the study. That’s it, then? That was the introduction?

Joseph gestures Thad to go further into the room. Thad takes a few steps forward and stops, unsure where to go. Raven, watching him, makes a come here gesture.

Thad obeys, because not going will just make this worse. At least Raven is alone, and at least he’s familiar with her, more familiar than with the other people here, anyway. “Better the devil you know”, as they say in this century.

Joseph’s quiet, bright presence behind him soothes Thad’s worst fears. It’s like having CRAYDL looming there. Support. Someone here who likes him. Trusts him.

“I’m sorry you’re afraid of me,” Raven says softly.

Thad grits his teeth. He hates interacting with a mind reader. He can’t argue with that.

“I’m fine.”

“I know,” Raven says. “Don’t worry about me, Thaddeus. I’m not going to say anything about you.”

Really? What about the Plan?

“Really?”

“Nothing at all. I promise,” Raven says. She unfurls herself from the back of the armchair and holds out a long, black-nailed hand.

Thaddeus shakes her hand firmly before she can take it back.

Then he smiles. Maybe this party will be survivable, after all.

[froody]

Imagine you hired an obscenely drunk Union soldier in a saloon to kill your husband. He manages to accomplish the deed by removing the bullets from your husband’s gun through a sleight of hand trick before challenging him to a duel. This is somewhat impressive but what is more impressive is his strong work ethic, ingenuity, Irish accent, subtle chivalry and big brown eyes. You marry him and move onto the 15 acres of semi-arid land on the edge of the Chihuahuan Desert he stubbornly wants to farm. He wants to name your firstborn daughter after his cavalry horse in the Civil War and your firstborn son after his commanding officer. He calls you widow woman as a term of endearment. He’s a good shot, he’s a good cattleman, a great husband and a subpar father. But what else can you ask from a man who lost his entire family in the Famine and came to this country alone at the age of 14?

Imagine you are a former Union soldier. You are 22 years old. You were only 19 when you enlisted, an Irish immigrant who worked in a livery stable in Cleveland until the outbreak of the war. You fought valiantly. You survived. In lieu of wages, you accepted a parcel of land in New Mexico territory. You’ve never had anything that was truly your own. Except for, perhaps, your horse. You arrive in New Mexico for the first time in your uniform, your horse goes lame the second you step onto your parcel, it’s so dry and rocky and red and you do not think it’s arable. You have to put down your horse. She dies with her head in your lap and you cry so hard you think you’ll die with her. When you’re done giving her a wake, knowing you have no ability to bury her, you begin walking in the direction of Las Cruces. Maybe you can sell this cursed land. Maybe you can get a job. First, a toast to Lula, the mare, the closest thing to family you have had in this country.

You’re seeing double by the time a little woman with an appraising expression approaches you. She is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, perhaps even better in double. A little older than you. Long, dark wavy hair that cascades over her shoulders, a perfect round face, a warm brown complexion and the most troubled eyes you have ever seen on a woman. What is most miraculous is that she wants to talk to you. You, drunk, sunburnt, covered in dust, the blood of your horse soaked into your pant leg. She motions to your pistol. She says she will pay you to do a job, pay you handsomely, enough to buy another horse. She says her husband is rich, he enticed her away from her family when she was very young, he holds her captive in his hacienda, he hurts her. He must be killed so that she can return to her sisters and live without fear. You will do it, you must do it. You do not care how much of the story is factual. You do not care if she intends to have the sheriff string you up after the deed is done. You do not care if she cannot pay the money she promised. You would do anything to remove the sorrow from her eyes. You kill her husband and sleep fine afterwards.

You do not buy that horse. You stay in the hacienda while she is out selling the bits and pieces of her husband’s life. You meet her sisters when they come, you help her pack away the pieces of her life so that she may start anew. You tell her of your own plans to start anew, of the patch of rocky soil that is your own. She tells you she grew up on land like that, tells you that it has always been her dream to work it. When her sisters leave for the mountains, she leaves with you.

[phantasm-echo]

POV: you wake up in the middle of your own autopsy with force powers then immediately get brainwashed into falling to the dark side

I was reminded of the fact that I haven’t drawn inquisitor!fives’ autopsy scars in way too long so here I am, delivering a few too many Fives 💀

Anyway I know I don’t post much about the AU on here so props to anyone who knows what’s going on here even slightly, I’ve decided to nerf siren!echo (who WAS part of this AU yes I know quite random) but since him being turned into a siren kinda limits what I can do with him story wise he is now an AU of the AU.

That means the name I came up with for the au (dead mean walking/swimming or dmw(s) as I’ve been tagging it) is kinda irrelevant. I’ll just call this the inquisitor fives AU but if you have any AU name suggestions feel free to drop them.

Here are some of the major factors of the AU:

It gets worse before it gets better

(WARNING: there are quite a few heavy topics covered in the AU such as torture, dehumanisation and su*cidal thoughts, so pls read at your own discretion)

- fives wakes up in the middle of his own autopsy with force sensitivity, then gets brainwashed into falling to the Dark Side by Palpatine. As an Inquisitor, he does not remember anything about his life because those memories were blocked by Palpatine.

- Palpatine discovers that Fives is essentially immortal, and any injuries inflicted on him will heal no matter how bad.

- when echo gets rescued from skako minor, he is recalled to Kamino for experimentation, first of all so they can figure out what the Techno Union did to him, second of all to see how he survived his injuries. Nala se, who knows that fives came back to life, theorises that since he and echo were tube twins they share the “immortality”. He is kept on Kamino for VERY extensive experimentation where terrible things happen to him (cough vivisection cough lobotomy) and so never joins Clone Force 99 even if he did work with them on Anaxes.

- Fives in this time is sent out on many missions by Palpatine that involve him unaliving many people, and after the rise of the Empire he hunts a few Jedi.

- Fox, who throughout the war had experienced many blackout missions where he woke up afterwards covered in blood, is the last living Coruscant Guard commander. (Thorn dies, stone vanishes one day, Thire mistakes Vader for a Jedi and pays the price) Despite the best efforts of his son secretary Dogma (no way!?) Fox has very little will to live, is extremely depressed and borderline suicidal, he would like nothing more than to bite the dust, but still feels he has a duty to the very few remaining corries and so tries to keep it together (he is failing)

- one day Palpatine decides he doesn’t need Fox to do his bidding anymore since he has much better assets at his disposal (Fives), and decides it would be ironic to sic his pet clone inquisitor onto Fox. Fives still doesn’t remember anything, and only knows that Fox is responsible for the main scars on his body and believes fox is the reason he doesn’t remember most of his life, and so sets out to kill fox. They battle it out (ref to that one animation wip I posted) and fives is on the verge of killing fox (who didn’t really try to fight that much, like I said he would very much like to die and dying at the hand of the vod he “killed” seems fitting to him) when he gets a sudden vision of echo.

- all fives knows is echo is extremely important to him and must be rescued and that snaps him out of palpatine’s control. He knows he probably can’t rescue echo alone, and since fox has already been betrayed by the empire he decides “fuck it” and basically kidnaps fox and they run. They make a deal, that once echo has been found, Fives will put Fox out of his misery (fox feels that fives should be the only person to kill him, and only goes along with the plan because he refuses to let anyone else kill him)

- fox and fives proceed to go on an intergalactic road trip to “rescue echo” even though neither of them know how to do that. They become closer friends throughout, and fives slowly regains bits and pieces of the Before

- meanwhile during the destruction of Kamino, the bad batch stumble on echo and rescue him and he stays with them for a little bit before leaving with Rex

- meanwhile Dogma helps the rest of the remaining Corries desert, kills too many storm troopers, and tries to go after his buir fox and the bastard inquisitor who kidnapped him

This is the main stuff you need to know for the AU haha so if you’ve got new name suggestions I’m all ears ty!!

[gay-dorito-dust]

hii can you do morgie/ hook (seperate) and the reader is like a goody two shoes and like really shy and they notice her because shes friends with ella and bridget

Morgie le Fay’s head perked up much like that of a dog’s upon noting the third person trailing being Bridget and Ella; you.

A Shy goody two shoes with no voice to speak of, mouse like more then just name but in mannerisms and personality and more, but despite all of this and barely even knowing your name Morgie was finding himself more and more intrigued as he watched you cross the courtyard with your head held down from where he stood.

Morgie knew where his loyalties lie but his heart was in search for someone else whose words of validation, encroachment and praise were as genuine and as sweet as your shy nature. His mother -Morgana Le Fay- wasn’t always there and could be often times be forgetful that he was her actual son, rather than someone she could just blame for all her misdeeds and mistakes in magic and life alike; Much like all villainous parents who walked through life without much of a comfort in their own devious lives, their actions are as inexcusable as their own parental style was.

You could feel his eyes pierce their stare into your head as you quickly glanced at him before becoming flustered upon seeing him smile at you as you ducked your head even further down, much to Bridget’s and Ella’s concern. Morgie felt like he could watch you for days on end and never grow bored, he wondered what your voice would sound like, your laugh, your expressive eyes and so much more to the point that he hasn’t realised that Hook had caught him in the act.

‘The shy ones caught your eye have they?’ Hook asks.

‘What? No. More like bothering me with their…quietness.’ Morgie tried to cover up but failed miserably upon seeing Hook’s unchanged expression as he crossed his arms over his chest. Morgie visibly deflates when he knows the gig was up for him.

‘Okay so maybe I was looking at them,’ Morgie admits but was quick to rectify himself when he saw Hook’s brow being to raise, ‘but that doesn’t necessarily mean that I like them. I was just…looking. Nothing more nothing less.’ He adds in a halfhearted laugh that quickly died in his throat shortly afterwards.

‘I’ve got nothing against you being with them Morgie,’ Hook begins, ‘but you know I can’t say the same for the others.’ He adds as he glances at you before looking back at his friend who had his feelings evident within his expressive hazel eyes. ‘So tread carefully if you are to follow that big old heart of yours. After all I can only act like I didn’t see anything for so long.’ Hook concluded as he pats Morgie on the shoulder twice encouragingly before leaving his friend to keep staring at you like an infatuated fool.

‘I will.’ Morgie says to himself as he finds himself filled with a new found determination.

Hook

Didn’t take long to notice your shy demeanour from where he stood in the academy’s vast garden. He has seen you in the company of Ella and Bridget on more than one unpleasant occasion, but here you were in the company of only yourself on a stone bench amidst flowers in full bloom.

You looked picturesque in that moment like a renaissance painting crafted by the most skilful pair of hands in existence. However he wasn’t one to speak this thought aloud to anyone, founding himself more content with withholding such a thought in his chest until he died.

You were quite as a mouse, shy as a one too as you often hide yourself in the background to avoid being seen but James always managed to seek you out without issue, something he saw as an problem considering who you were friends with and the crew whom he held his loyalty towards; he remembers how often you avoid confrontation with him as you’d always side step him when he got too close or even evaded being in the same room as him all the while ducking your head and holding your books close to your chest that they might as well mould into your very skin.

However with neither of your friends in sight hook decided to forgo everything and seat himself next to you just as you closed the book you had took out from the library, holding it close to your chest as he had expected of you to do.

‘All alone are you little mouse?’ Hook asks rhetorically as he smirks at your wide eyed expression. ‘Your friends ran off elsewhere then to be with you have they?’

‘Well I don’t see yours nearby either.’ You said softly as you found yourself easily entranced by his eyes, his hair, right down to his cocky smirk. It wouldn’t have been too bad falling for him had he not been a villain, however live makes things difficult to navigate when you’ve been told how to view things by the adults in your life, rather then allow you to formulate your own opinions.

Hook raised his brow in surprise at your quip, he wasn’t expecting someone as meek as you to have held back such a sharp tongue this entire time. ‘Struck a never did I?’ He says as he leans in closer to you, watching as you leaned away from him but only by so much before you’d fall off the stone bench completely, what you didn’t know was that hook wouldn’t let you fall but wouldn’t let you in on that until it was called for.

‘No, i just know you shouldn’t be seen with a goofy two shoes like me, it’ll ruin your standing in your own group.’ You tell him with slightly more confidence in your own voice but still being shy in meeting his observant eyes, trying to remember everything that Bridget and Ella have told you and start standing your ground.

‘And you think you wouldn’t be crucified by your own friends for being seen with me either?’ Hook replied as you both looked at each other in silence, knowing that both of you were right but didn’t want to agree to saying such a ridiculous thing. Yes your friends would throughly question you on why he was so close to you as would his own, but in this moment that didn’t matter as you continued to stare the other down as conflicting feelings clashed within yourselves.

‘Perhaps,’ you began shyly as you were the first to look away from hook and down at your lap, all the while hook kept his eyes firmly on you and you only, drinking you all in while he could, memorising everything about you and keeping it locked within his heart. ‘But at least mine would be more understanding and see reason.’ You add as you got the courage to stand up from the bench and inside the academy, leaving hook to mull over what just happened and sigh as he remembers what Morgie told him earlier.

‘You look at them with the most adoring gaze while yet cursing out their name and everything they stand for, you hate to like them but like them too much to actually hate them.’

[toomanythoughts2]

Here's some miscellaneous Metalocalypse headcanons. I'm gonna put them here just to get them down.

Skwisgaar has flat feet, which will result in leg problems later in his life.

Toki has nerve damage to his back and he can't feel it in places. He has to go to massage therapy for it every week so it doesn't get too bad.

Murderface has long hair, his fro is just so dense. It's as long as Skiwsgaar's hair.

Stella Murderface is William Murderface's paternal grandmother, so his mother is Stella's Daughter-In-Law and his father is their biological son. Murderface's looks skipped his father, so his father and his mother were average looking individuals. The idea that Murderface's looks were the catalysis for his father's mental break were probably intensified because of the paternal skip.

Murderface's mom was very excited for William's birth. She spent a long time getting ready for his arrival. William was a wanted, planned child, whose mother was fully encapsulated in being a good mom. She took so many photos of her pregnancy and had a baby book prepared. Mama Murderface was fully ready to be a mom. When William was born, she fell in love with him. William is probably less than a year when they died, but more than 4 months. Up until their death, his mom obsessed over him, loved him, cared for him. There are so many baby photos of him up until their death, and his baby book ends at the same age of when they died.

Murderface has multiple photos of his mother tucked safely in his room. He looks at them when he's feeling particularly sad and lost. He'll look back over the home movies she took, listen to her voice, listen to how much she loved him and how she was waiting for him. He blocks out his father in the video as much as he can. He hates him more than he hates himself.

Toki has a hobby grave yard. However, he is not afraid of any hobby and will at least become competent in them.

Pickles still doesn't really understand the internet. He's got the concept but it alludes him for the most part.

Toki's family is actually the black sheep of the majority of the family and Toki is the black sheep within the black sheep.

Toki was on his way to becoming the next Reverend after Aslaug, but the family at large was very wary of this possible development. They avoided Toki at all cost due to his presence with death and his possible future position in the family.

Everyone has neck pain from head banging and windmilling, so they have physical therapy on their necks to keep them strong and to stop any further deterioration.

Nathan has back pain. Like really bad back pain. Him and his father, since they are larger men, have consistent back issues that make it hard to stand for long hours.

Rose is Nathan's biggest supporter. She co-signed on the apartment, she helped get him his first van, she helped pick out stage clothes, she painted his nails. He would read his lyrics out to her (and his dad) at the dinner table and she would help him with lyrics and support his direction. Rose knew that Nathan's life was not leading him to college, but to something else, and she fully believed that he could do anything he set his mind to.

Skwisgaar is double jointed and can pop and crack his knuckles. Murderface and Pickles DESPISE it.

While there are many "Deaddy Bears", there is only one true, original Deaddy Bear. It's the one that got burnt up in "Dethkids" but it came back afterwards. Why? BECAUSE IT'S POSSESSED! ITS A POSSESSED DEADDY BEAR KINDA LIKE THE VELVETEEN RABBIT! TOKI MADE IT BE ALIVE WITH HIS LOVE AND THE TRUAMA! TOKI NEVER QUESTIONS IT AND THE BAND IS VERY WORRIED ABOUT IT!

Murderface has gotten himself stuck in the Iron Maiden before.

There's a lot more wholesome/domestic moments within the band dynamic than their fans or even the label knows about. It's regular shit, like a routine they have worked out with themselves about how to live with each other without going crazy.

They do the "Do you want my broccoli?" "I can take your rice." "Here, take the pepper, I dont want it." kind of switch with their food when they go out. It's just a choirs of plate scraps from one plate to another.

[gortash-did-nothing-wrong]

Skin

Minors Do Not Interact.

Warnings: aftermath of childbirth, pregnancy, childbirth complications (not fatal), and hints of Feyd's abusive childhood.

Feyd holds his newborn baby as his wife rests. The birth had gone as smoothly as a first could be expected to go, but she had reacted poorly to the medications they gave her afterwards. She was quite out of it, mumbling and far too drugged up to hold the baby. She couldn't even touch her nose without smacking her own eye.

Feyd had refused to let the nurses hold his son. The idea of simply handing his child off to a stranger, whether servant or slave, felt wrong to him. The nurse had smiled, despite the glare Feyd wore on his face. "You'll want to remove your shirt."

Feyd frowned deeper. "Why?"

"Newborn babies need skin to skin contact. It helps with temperature regulation, digestion, heart rate, all manner of things. I can step out if you'd prefer."

Feyd waves his hand, gesturing for her to leave. It had been nearly six months since he had killed Vladimir Harkonnen, and yet he still felt uncomfortable being exposed in front of anyone. Anyone except his wife and his harpies, that is.

Feyd had shed his shirt, and then carefully picked up his baby from the bassinet the nurse had set him in. He cradled his son the way his wife had shown him. She had forced him to practice swaddling and cradling and all manner of actions with a stuffed toy. She had insisted he learn, in her words, in case she died. Something that he had hated hearing.

But now, as Feyd sat in a chair beside his wife's bed and held his baby boy, the heir of his kingdom, the pride of his heart, and quite recently, the thing he loved most in the world, he was beyond grateful his wife had insisted he learned. His son was silent, and Feyd knew that it would be some time before he could expect to communicate meaningfully with his son. Despite that, he whisper out a few words of explanation to his first born.

"Sorry, little one. Your mother would be much softer to rest against, but she's not feeling well. Bringing you into this world took a lot out of her. It's not your fault, of course not, don't think that. These things happen. The doctors checked her over three times, she'll be alright in a few hours. She's always been sensitive to medicine, she just needs to rest and let the IV help her clean out her system. Between you and me, she's quite the lightweight. I swear she got drunk off of half a glass of wine before. Harkonnen wine, but still. Don't repeat this to your mother, alright? It's alright for us to tease her on occasion, but she's been through hell these last few hours. It's not the time to tease."

Feyd stayed like that with his son for hours, whispering to him about everything and nothing. He explained to his son what time of day it was, how time was measured, how the sun worked on Giedi Prime, and how the evening was his wife's favorite time of day. The hours flew by, and by the time the sun rose, Feyd was certain his son was the most intelligent baby in history.

His wife stirred when the sun peeked over the horizon, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Feyd, still shirtless, cradling the child she had labored for hours to bring into the world. "Feyd…"

Feyd leaned forward, scooting his chair closer to the bed. "Do you hurt, my darling? Do you thirst? Hunger?"

"Yes to all." His wife grumbled. "But before any of that," she held out her arms, smiling, "I'd like to hold my son."

Feyd set their boy in her arms, kissed her on the forehead, pulled his shirt back on, and left to call for the nurse. So many things left to do. His wife needed her health checked. She'd need to drink a lot of fluids. His son would need some things done as well. Foot prints, documents signed, shots perhaps. Feyd wasn't sure how long a baby needed to wait before getting vaccinated, but if it was to be done today, then it was another task. It seemed an endless list to him at the moment. A boring yet tiring list when all he truly wanted was to go back into his wife's bedroom and hold her in his arms while she held their baby. Oh well. Responsibilities first, desires second.

[floatyflowers]

Dark Male! Rhaenyra Targaryen x Cousin Reader

You are the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, making you the beloved cousin of the realm's delight, Rhaeger Targaryen.

There is no lie that the crown prince is enamored with you, and it is clearly shown everytime you visit Kingslanding.

You two would spend long periods together, flying on your dragons, mocking the ladies and lords of the court while eating lemon cakes.

Indeed, no one can deny the prince's infatuation with you.

Everything was going well, until your aunt Aemma died during childbirth, and your father got exiled.

Not only that but Rhaeger's father remarried to Lady Alicent Hightower, a girl, Rhaeger considered a dear friend.

Also your mother was found dead, it is said that Lady Royce fall off of her horse.

You ended up inheriting Runestone afterwards.

When the time came to marry, Rhaeger was forced to marry from House Velaryon for alliances, completely denied your hand in marriage.

However, his lady wife was unable to bear him children nor was she interested in him as her preferences lie with the same sex.

Rhaeger felt hopeless and bitter with everyone and everything, his succession to the throne is threatened until Daemon who returned back from his war at Stepstones.

His uncle suggests that he has children from another woman and passes them off as his and his lady wife's children.

Little did Daemon know, that the younger Targaryen prince would choose you to be the mother of his children.

Rhaeger's wife agreed to his plan, but you were hesitant at first.

"Please (Y/n), there is no one I can entrust with such a task except for you, dear cousin"

However, Rhaeger managed to convince you in the end by guilt-tripping you, agreeing to only give him a son.

But, you ended up giving him three sons.

Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey.

All three ended up inheriting your appearance, dark hair with purple eyes.

All are loved by their father, especially Lucerys who inherited your soft attitude.

Of course, rumors spiraled around the court about your children's legitimacy every time you visited.

Which made you decide to stop visiting, and continue residing at Runestone as its Lady even if staying away from your children hurt you.

Nevertheless, your departure didn't last for long as Rhaeger's wife 'dies'

Rhaeger rushes to Runestone, proposing that you both get married and return with him to Dragonstone where you two could raise your children in peace.

"Rhaeger... That's a wonderful proposal, I love our children truly, yet I only see you as a friend whom I helped in a time of need"

Yeah, the Targaryen prince didn't take kindly to your words.

Which resulted in him kidnapping you and marrying you against your will in the traditions of your house with your sons, Jace and Luke as witnesses.

Part Two

[bullet-prooflove]

I know that you hate her but it was never her fault, not really.

For Lee Dutton

Tagging: @kmc1989 @queenslandlover-93 @newyorkrican922 @bryandechartisasmolbean @lovethis-lovethat

Companion piece to:

A Boy from Bozeman - Lee says goodbye to the woman he loves.

The Worry Doll - Lee still keeps the worry doll you gave him.

Wild Fire - Lee tells you the truth about the wildfire.

Experiance (NSFW) - Lee's gained some experiance since the last time the two of you were together.

Blind Date - John puts the word out around town that Lee needs a wife.

Fire Wood - Lee always chops firewood when he's pissed.

Wedding Bells - You and Lee tie the knot in secret.

Until Your Dying Day - You make a promise to Lee.

References to:

The One That Got Away - In light of Lee's recent wedding, John reflects on the one that got away.

The Other Woman (NSFW) - John was never meant to be with Evelyn.

John is waiting for Lee on the porch of the farmhouse when he returns home from his honeymoon. He’d dropped you off at the end of the trail where Kayce had left the VW. You have to be at the conservation centre in Helena this afternoon to discuss the soil samples you took from Pasture 12. Lee intends to meet you afterwards to help you pack up your stuff for your move to the farmhouse.

It's the coffee cup in his father’s hand that pisses Lee off, it’s the chipped one from his kitchen. He can smell that special brand of coffee you like, the one you buy from the farmer’s market. This is John Dutton trying to send a message and Lee reads it loud and clear.

Nothing is yours, it all belongs to the ranch.

Lee doesn’t say anything as he sits down on the opposite side of the steps. If they’re going to talk about this, it’s going to be on equal terms because Lee, he will not stand before this man like a naughty child. He’s done bending to his father’s will.

“You left one hell of a mess for me to clean up.” John says taking a sip of his coffee as he stares out across the pasture.

Lee knows he’s talking about the angry phone calls he’s been receiving from ranchers since the news hit that Lee had gotten married, the ones that were trying to trade their daughters like cattle for a piece of the ranch.

“I never said I wanted a wife.” Lee reminds him as his gaze fixates on the cattle roaming in the distance.

“But you took one anyway.” John points out, his gaze coming to rest on Lee’s silver wedding band.

“I know you hate her…”

“I don’t hate her.” John tells Lee, setting his coffee cup down alongside him. “She’s just not right for the ranch.”

“But she’s right for me.” Lee says tucking his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “She was back then and she is now.”

There’s silence between the two of them for a moment before John sighs.

“I had someone like that.” He says quietly. “A long time ago I had to make a decision between the woman I love and what was best for the ranch.”

“You mean Lou.” Lee says and John tilts his head towards him in surprise. “I saw the two of you together after mom died, I heard what you said about how you loved her, how you’d always loved her.”

Lee has known from a young age that his mother and father didn’t act like other parents. There was always a coldness between the two of them, a practicality. It wasn’t until the night of the wake when he saw his father interact with Lou that he realised why. John hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her during the event, he held onto her hands a little too long when she gave him her condolences and that night after everyone else had left, he’d undressed her in the room his wife hadn’t shared in years.

Lee doesn’t know what happened after that, only his father is now in a causal relationship with Governor Perry  and Lou sells honey at the farmer’s market with her twenty six year old son, Joesph.

“The men in our family, they don’t marry for love.” John says quietly. “We marry for duty and that’s what I need you to do.”

“What are you saying?” Lee asks him, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“When I get back to the house, I’ll have Jamie draw up an annulment, voiding the marriage.” John says clasping his hands together. “After that we’ll pick someone more appropriate, someone whose the right fit.”

Lee can’t speak, his eyes sting as he pulls the keys to the farmhouse out from his pocket and dumps them into his father’s lap.

“I’m not leaving Anna.” He says, his voice raw with emotion as he raises to his feet. “You took twenty years from the two of us, you don’t get to have the rest.”

Love Young John Dutton? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[tizeline]

If you answered this already sorry I can't find it. Did Donnie know he had missing brothers before he found out about them? Did Mikey, Raph, and Leo know they had a missing brother?

Oh Donnie had no idea lol. Splinter had no hope of ever rescuing the other turtles from Draxum, so letting Donnie know about his lost siblings in Splinter's opinion would've only caused his son grief. It could've potentially put him at risk as well if Donnie decidied he wanted to go out and look for the other turtles when he got older, point is Splinter thought it would be better if Donnie remained ignorant of his secret family.

Raph, Leo and Mikey DID know about Donnie. Draxum has told them all about how Lou Jitsu kidnapped their poor softshelled brother, Draxum wanted them to know about the evils of humanity and the story about how a human is the reason why their forth brother is no longer with them is a perfect example to enforce that mentality. He's also made it pretty clear that there is a real possibility that their softshelled brother is no longer alive, he could've been killed in the lab explosion when Lou Jitsu escaped, or he could've died sometime afterwards. Point is, he doesn't want to get their hopes up too much about the possibility that their long lost brother is still alive only for that hope to be crushed in the event that Donnie is dead.

The Drax Trio, however, are still convinced that Donnie is alive somewhere out there, and they're dead-set on finding and reuniting with him one day.

[fromtheboundlesssea]

Daemon laid in his bed, exhausted from sparring. The summer heat of Oldtown was not as oppressive as that of King’s Landing or the Stepstones, but the salt of the air set his mind on the edge, almost ready to wake and find himself returned to that rugged terrain, the smell of burning corpses mixed with salt that kept the bodies fresh. He did not care for the Dornish Kingsguard that had insisted he be placed with Daemon’s family, despite there being no need of him, but he appreciated that the man felt no need to hold back while sparring a Targaryen prince.

The wind shifted and he glanced to see the door to his room open and then close softly, but not so softly that it was a servant indenting to clean only to find their master resting. No, it was the softness of a child.

“Aemond,” Daemon said. “You should be at your lessons. Your mother shall be very cross if she finds you skipping.”

He turned his head and saw his son holding a book much too big for him. Aemond held it to his chest like a prized possession, much like his mother had in her youth when she thought to help Rhaenyra study.

Dutifully, Aemond placed the book on the bed and climbed up so he was sitting on his knees next to Daemon’s outstretched arm. “Kepa, is it true that Uncle… the king was the last rider of Balerion?”

“He would not mind that you called him uncle,” Daemon said first, before answering his son. “And yes, he did, although the great beast did not live long afterward.”

Aemond pursed his lips. “And he was six and ten?”

“There abouts.”

“And Maegor the Cruel did not claim a dragon until he was older.”

“Yes.”

“And you claimed Caraxes and nine and ten.”

“That I did.”

“Then it is not so bad that Celia and I have hatched no eggs?”

“Is that what worries you?”

Aemond’s cheeks flushed as his mother’s did. While Aemond was Daemon in miniature, his reaction to embarrassment was very much like his mother. “Celia says we need no dragons to be Targaryen, but only girl Targaryens were without dragons.”

Daemon was certain that was an over simplification, but he did not have such knowledge ready made since his own mother had rode a dragon—even, famously, after his birth. “There have been a few princes that flew no dragons.”

“But they died younger than I.”

“What need of you of a dragon?” Daemon asked. “Have places to fly, do you?”

“Jaehaerys and Cassandra Baratheon’s eggs have hatched.”

“Ah.” Daemon sighed. He thought for a long moment before sitting up. “Perhaps I shall write to your uncle and ask if I am allowed to bring you and Celia both to the Dragonpit. To pick another pair of eggs or to see what dragon sings to you.”

“What of Rhaena and Laeyla?”

“They are too young to be claiming dragons.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I shall write your uncle and ask for permission to return and, should he allow it, I will only ask your mother then.”

“Why not ask Mother now?”

“Mother birds are always frightened of their children learning to fly.” He heard his eldest daughter calling for her twin, telling him that their maester was very cross. “She is terrified that they might fall.”

Previously: Daemon and Celia

[the-elusive-soleil]

Silm AU with the Feanorian death order reversed

I apologize in advance, but:

Maglor regrets the Oath and kinslaying on the voyage over. He stays aboard the ships, meaning to stow away back, but falls asleep (it's been a long day) and wakes up on fire. His brothers and father become aware of the situation when they hear the screams. Maglor's cries become a permanent echo in that area, much like Morgoth's at Lammoth.

Maedhros does not have the clearest head in the ensuing battle. He gets separated from the others and is beaten into the dust by balrogs. His family isn't even able to retrieve a body.

Feanor is very shaken and very mad. He doesn't parlay with Morgoth, not even for the Silmarils. He and his remaining people spread out across Beleriand and establish fortresses.

Things are chilly at best when the Helcaraxe group arrives thirty years later. Feanor does not yield the crown. The two groups don't fight, because Morgoth's a bigger problem, but they're not working together. Partially because Fingon refuses to speak to the Feanorians after he hears what happened to Maedhros, and Finrod won't even be near them after what they did to Maglor.

Feanor is very careful with his remaining sons.

Time goes on, the Bragollach occurs on schedule, and so does the Silmaril quest, except that C&C aren't in Nargothrond because of the Finrod-hating-them thing, so Celegorm never meets Luthien. She doesn't get Huan, but still manages just fine.

We do still eventually get to the point of "Silmaril at Doriath" + "no Girdle" + "stubborn Dior" = Second Kinslaying. But this time Celegorm's not grudge-fueled and Curufin's not having to cover for Huan and watch his back, and... Amrod and Amras die instead.

Elwing escapes to the Havens. Elured and Elurin aren't left to die, but Feanor has no interest in keeping around Sindar reminders of his dead sons. He has them sent away. (They don't know where Elwing and the Silmaril are, so ransom isn't an option.)

Then they do learn where the Silmaril is, at Sirion. They attack. Caranthir dies.

Curufin has been doing increasingly badly since Celebrimbor forswore him right before Doriath. Celegorm decides the solution is to pick up Elwing's twin sons and get Curufin to help parent them.

Feanor isn't thrilled, but he can't say no when he sees how Curufin latches on.

Love grows after between them, as little might be thought.

War of Wrath happens. Feanor keeps his tattered family out of it, but contributes weapon designs via courier. The Host uses said designs, because even if he's problematic they need this stuff.

Afterward, the claiming and theft of the Silmarils proceeds. Curufin sends the twins to Celebrimbor to preempt another rejection.

He's hollow, disillusioned, attacking the camp. The guards don't have to work very hard to kill him.

Feanor and Celegorm escape. The Silmarils burn them. Celegorm starts laughing and laughing and can't stop, and backs away...right into a chasm of fire.

Feanor flings the Silmarils after him, hating the things he chased so long at the cost of his sons, and staggers to the shore as the sea encroaches.

No one knows what happens to him.

[devildomwriter]

“…It was long ago, back before this place was even called the House of Lamentation. This house was built on the outskirts of a village in the human world. At the time, a married couple and their seven children lived here, along with one servant. At first glance, they appeared to be a happy, well-off family that enjoyed living out in the country. However, one day everything changed… The oldest son came running into the village constable’s office looking very pale. Then he delivered a horrifying piece of news: “Our servant…he murdered everyone in my family and then took his own life!” So, the constable’s men went back to the house with him. Once inside, they were greeted by a ghastly sight. Every person in the family had been murdered, each in a different way and different location. And the servant, well...he was found in his room, hanging from a rope around his neck. The constable concluded that, for whatever reason, the servant must have plotted to kiss his masters and then take his own life… …and since the perpetrator was now dead, they decided that the case was closed. However, sometime later, several facts came to light that gave rise to new doubts. First, the only person who wasn’t killed—the oldest son—had been on extremely bad terms with his siblings. And he has purchased a gun just like the one used in the murders shortly before they occurred. Also, the postman witnessed the servant and the oldest son arguing prior to the killings… …which led people to think that maybe the oldest son was the true killer. Perhaps the servant had tried to stop him, but ended up being killed as well in the process… …and then, the oldest son strung him up by his neck to make it look like he committed suicide. …In the end, the truth never came to light. For several years afterwards, the oldest son lived in the house by himself, until he eventually died of old age. Even after he dies, unsettling rumors about the house continued to swirl. It was supposed to be vacant, and yet people claimed to have seen several figures moving about inside at night. They said they could hear the voices of people arguing and screaming… So, at some point, the house was given a name. “The House of Lamentation,” they called it…”

— Lucifer giving the story of the House of Lamentation (Chapter 12-8)

[cyren-myadd]

Am I the Asshole for making my son hold up his end of the deal we made?

I (20M) recently found the long lost son (16M) of the person I was cloned from (long story, don't ask) and I was forced to take him into my organization's custody against his will. The kid wasn't really thrilled about being held in corporate custody, but I cut a deal with him: he would act as a guide and translator for me and my squad, and in return he would get privileges he wouldn't be given otherwise. A couple months go by and everything is just peachy. The kid's attitude improved and he cooperated as a guide, and I can't believe I'm saying it, but the kid started to grow on me.

But then everything went to hell in a handbasket when I got a lead on our target and the kid had to actually do some translating. When I started interrogating some suspects who possibly had a lead on my target, the kid freaked out on me and started yelling at me to stop. I don't really get why he was so upset. Me and my guys might've roughed up the suspects a little bit, but it's not like we killed anyone. The kid's a bit of a bleeding heart, I guess. He tried to back out on our deal and said he wasn't gonna take part in this, and I ended up having to cut the interrogation short, which cost me valuable time looking for leads. Afterwards, I reminded him about our deal and I made him keep working as my translator for the rest of the interrogation process. He wasn't happy about it, but he'd made a deal with me, plus I REALLY needed a translator.

Fast forward a couple days, we find our target and it doesn't go according to plan. I nearly died in a nasty shipwreck trying to do my job, but luckily my kid saved my ass from drowning. I was weak and lost in the middle of enemy territory, so I got ready to high tail it outta there. I asked my son to come with me, but he just hissed at me and ran away. I haven't seen him since. My boy doesn't exactly have a way with words, but I guess his little hiss was his way of calling me an asshole, which I don't really think is fair, since I did so much for him. I know he wasn't happy with the interrogations, but I saved his ungrateful tail from getting tortured and from getting stabbed to death by my target's crazy wife. Besides, he agreed to be my translator to get out of my CO's custody, I was just making him hold up his end of the bargain.

I know if I just had a second chance with my son, I could get him to come around again. How can I get my son back? I'm not really an asshole, am I?

NTA= not the asshole

YTA= you're the asshole

NAH= no assholes here

ESH= everyone sucks here

[domoz]

Another drabble trade with @doveywovy, this one had the prompts 'Blessed' and 'Forbidden Technique'

Technically, all of the techniques unlocked by the mangekyo are forbidden.

A few generations ago one of Izuna's ancestors went through the painstaking process of trying to document just how severe the vision loss caused by each technique was. Not a single one could be used without damage.

(Shortly afterwards, that ancestor tried to catch the entire clan in a genjutsu and died from the chakra drain -- the notes Izuna had read had posthumous notes added with theories about how the mangekyo might affect the mind as well.)

But for a shinobi, being forbidden does not mean a true ban. The label stands only as a warning: Using this technique has consequences. If you are to use it, be aware of it. Izuna has heeded them -- he's never once used the higher abilities of his eyes, because if Madara is to have them someday they need to be in perfect condition.

He has Tobirama pinned at the end of a ravine. There's cover enough to make it defensible; normal fire won't do a thing here, and they're matched enough that Izuna can't be assured of victory if he tries to finish him with his sword -- especially when they're both as exhausted as they are. Every moment Izuna allows his opponent to catch his breath is another moment he might find an upper hand

It's not a quite snap decision. Izuna has imagined the easy victory he could win ever since he first manifested the mangekyo, he's just never allowed himself to act on it until this moment.

Ameterasu is the most self-damaging technique there is -- but he only needs to use it once.

The mangekyo manifests into his eyes with a dry burn, which quickly becomes a searing pain as Izuna pushes more chakra into them then he ever has before.

"Ameterasu!"

Black fire twists and flows. Izuna can see Tobirama's alarm at the new technique before the scene becomes blurry with the blood that wells from his eyes. He counters with water, as he usually does -- a huge wave of it, a panicked last defense that would have worked on any other technique Izuna could have tried. The suiton explodes into steam without slowing Izuna's black flames at all. It gives him enough space to wipe the blood from his eyes -- to see Tobirama burn.

Only there is no screaming, no scent of burning flesh. The steam drifts up and away and Izuna stares.

His fire remains, the pull on his chakra and the stinging of his eyes is proof that it's his, but it's changed. Where it's clung to Tobirama, the flames of Ameterasu have turned white, a corona of holy fire burns across his shoulders and makes the red of his eyes gleam.

They had been a sign, every Uchiha had known it. The second son of Butsuma Senju very well could have been blessed, but no one had ever tried to prove it. He's Senju. It was easier not to know.

Now Izuna has gone and given himself irrefutable proof. Tobirama is blessed by Ameterasu, so much so that her fires will not harm him.

(Izuna had always thought he'd seemed a little inhuman. This is just confirmation, really).

Tobirama tries to brush the fire away only to spread it to his hands, to drip from his fingers down his sword.  He's still wary, not yet ready to discard it as a genjutsu trick as long as he can't dismiss it, and Izuna must have some sort of expression on his face that makes him pause further when he sees it.

There's no time to catastrophize about what it all means. Izuna shuts his sharingan and the fires fade away, the sense of his chakra burning next to Tobirama's disappears and leaves a new emptiness behind. He sheathes his sword, bows, as though Tobirama is an honorable opponent, and takes the opportunity to retreat.

Izuna will just have to bring him home next time they meet.

[alittlesongbirdchirps]

FAE BLOOD DICK GRAYSON IDEA

Just an Idea but imagine that Dick deep in his heritage unknown to him descend from faes that's the reason he can do what most humans cant like his super weird flip, why he seems to almost fly so gracefully.

And why after him most people who take the mantle of robin, either suffer or die.

Because he has enough fae blood in him he unknowingly curses the robin mantle, because robin wasn't supposed to be anyone else and Bruce took it from him. So of course he subconsciously cursed it, not wanting anyone to use his name, robins is no one else's.

The curse is different for each robin depending on how Dick viewed each of them.

With Jason, who Dick viewed as someone who took his spot, someone who dared where his colors came along.

The unknown curse that started in retaliation to Jason was worse with him and the reason why his career as robin was so unlucky and led to his demise.

Joker didn't kill Jason because he was Jason but because he was robin.

Tim the next robin, also suffers a lot on his journey as robin and nearly dies and this is due to Dick's relationship, he's trying to do better and be a better brother but he still doesn't like that not only is Tim wearing his colors but also replaced Jason.

When Steph came to be robin she wasn't robin long enough for the curse to affect her and most of the shit that happened mainly happened afterward with no correlation.

Damien the robin that Dick chooses doesn't suffer because he's robin, he suffers because he's Damien Al-Ghoul, or because he is the blood son of the bat. He doesn't suffer because he's robin and because Dick picked him the curse is basically null.

Who eventually figures it out, None other than Jason, he's always been smart maybe not as smart as Tim but he's pretty good at spotting patterns especially when it comes to anything Robin-related.

I mean it didn't take a genius to realize a lot of bad shit happens to those who have taken the mantle after Dick besides Damien's the only one who hasn't suffered because he's robin.

So a little bit of digging It doesn't take too long for Jason to finally figure out the robin mantle was cursed but he didn't expect Dick to have cursed it.

So he goes to confront the golden child Bruce's favorite but is frustratedingly stopped by Tim who figured it out way before Jason ever had.

So he lets Tim speak, and Tim tells him Dick doesn't know, and he isn't sure what will happen if Dick ever found out.

He asks Jason to imagine what if Dick ever found out his brothers suffered greatly because of him, imagine what Dick would do to himself.

And Jason feels conflicted that he can't forgive what happened even if it's unintentional but he doesn't want Dick to suffer, so he agrees to keep what he's found a secret for now or until the curse of the robin mantle either begins to affect Damien or whoever takes it after him.

(You can totally use this as an idea for any writings.)

[gotham-at-nightfall]

Daemon and Laena

Flying back to the Stepstones afterward, Prince Daemon landed at Driftmark to make a courtesy call upon his erstwhile partner in conquest, the Sea Snake, and his wife, the Princess Rhaenys. High Tide was one of the few places in the Seven Kingdoms where the king's brother could be confident he would not be turned away. There his eye fell upon Lord Corlys's daughter, Laena, a maid of two-and-twenty, tall, slender, and surpassingly lovely (even Mushroom was taken with her beauty, writing that she "was almost as pretty as her brother"), with a great mane of silver-gold ringlets that fell down past her waist. Laena had been betrothed from the age of twelve to a son of the Sealord of Braavos but the father had died before they could be wed, and the son soon proved a wastrel and a fool, squandering his family's wealth and power before turning up on Driftmark. Lacking a graceful means to rid himself of the embarrassment, but unwilling to proceed with the marriage, Lord Corlys had repeatedly postponed the wedding. Prince Daemon fell in love with Laena, the singers would have us believe. Men of a more cynical bent believe the prince saw her as a way to check his own descent. Once seen as his brother's heir, he had fallen far down in the line of succession, and neither the greens nor the blacks had a place for him ... but House Velaryon was powerful enough to defy both parties with impunity. Weary of the Stepstones, and free at last of his "bronze bitch," Daemon Targaryen asked Lord Corlys for his daughter's hand in marriage. The exiled Braavosi betrothed remained an impediment, but not for long; Daemon mocked him to his face so savagely the boy had no choice but to call him to defend his words with steel. Armed with Dark Sister, the prince made short work of his rival, and wed Lady Laena Velaryon a fortnight later, abandoning his hardscrabble kingdom on the Stepstones.

By MourningStorms