#and of course he just deserves to be involved in general

[quasar-kaiser]

Yep, they left Sun behind and walked right into an obvious trap without letting him know beforehand – exactly like Moon said he wouldn't be doing anymore

Solar and Moon bring out the worst in eachother istg /lh

geniuses on their own but absolute DUMBASSES when together, and now Sun is likely going to get dragged into this mess again – just like with Old Moon

please for the love of all that's holy, moon, solar, DISCUSS THINGS WITH SUN

Get him involved!! He deserves to be involved DIRECTLY, not just finding out about everything later

head in hands

I know the team of solar and moon is really cool and all but-

This is not even how I see the thing. Sun is just left behind..

[italiangirlcoresblog]

main masterlist \\ f1 masterlist

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠...

✩ : as the 2024 season comes to an end, so does the time you have left to finally confess your feelings to lando

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : lando norris

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1,3k

✍︎ : this is my way of celebrating lando's win in abu dhabi. honestly, i was kinda hoping it would end like this, and seeing him smile again after the shitshow the last few races were was the best conclusion i could've imagined for this season.

i'm also planning to write one for carlos, a sort of 'other side of the coin': same scenario, same feelings involved, but a totally different atmosphere (which means heavy angst because i don't think i'll ever get over him leaving ferrari). let me know if you're interested! 🩷🧡

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

The McLaren garage had always been a lively place, but nothing could have prepared you—or any of your teammates—for the chaos that Lando's win brought that night.

Abu Dhabi, the last race on the 2024 season calendar, the last chance for the team to become great once again, and Lando had made it. He'd pulled off an absolute masterclass on track, securing both his fourth career win and the Constructors’ Championship title for McLaren, and you were there to witness it.

The moment he crossed the finish line in first, it seemed like the whole team gasped for air after holding their breath during the entire race. Then came the cheers, the hugs, the shouts, the tears of joy and relief… and him.

Being a part of the Papaya crew, you were as excited as everyone else for the long-awaited victory, of course, but the only thing you could seem to focus on were Lando’s watery eyes, sparkling under the bright lights of the Yas Marina Circuit.

It was written on his face—you could see it in his smile: he was proud of himself. For the first time in so long, that’s what his almost unbelieving gaze screamed, what you were dying to scream too.

You made it, Lando.

The celebration that followed was a blur of champagne, noisy music, and dances, yet the loudest party was the one going on inside your heart, which seemed to follow the rhythm of Lando’s laughter.

How long can a person hide their true feelings for someone they’ve known for… well, a while? In your case, what had initially started as a harmless, silly little crush almost seven months before was now the reason your world had lit up as soon as you’d seen Lando smile again.

You couldn’t keep it in anymore now, could you? After all, what better time to confess your embarrassingly strong feelings for him than as the perfect conclusion of such an eventful night?

Taking one last deep breath and a long sip of champagne from a nearby glass, you finally gained enough courage to walk up to where Lando was standing, surrounded by a crowd of orange t-shirts as he casually chatted with Oscar.

Once you reached him, you cleared your throat to get him to acknowledge you, which he almost immediately did, turning his head toward you with the biggest, brightest smile still plastered on his face.

“Hey,” you muttered, face flushed under his piercing stare. “Hey.” He didn’t hesitate, pulling you into an ecstatic side hug that only worsened your situation, totally unaware of the effect his presence—him in general, to be honest—had on you.

“I, uh… congratulations, Lando,” you somehow managed to blurt out, your cheeks completely on fire by the time he let go of you.

“Thanks.” His smile seemed to soften, as well as the look in his eyes, which lingered on your face with something that almost resembled tenderness. That’s all you needed to keep going.

“You deserve it. I mean it.” You stopped him before he could say anything, your voice unexpectedly firm as you knew he was about to shrug your compliment off. “You worked so hard for it, and I’m not just talking about tonight. The win, the championship—you earned it all, Lando. Everyone here is proud of you, and… I’m really proud of you, too.”

You could feel your face burning as the last words left your mouth, and when you dared to look directly at him, you could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of redness crawling up his neck and softly tinting his cheeks… but it must’ve been the garage lights, right?

“Well, thanks… again,” he chuckled, his right hand shooting up to scratch the back of his neck while his eyes finally left yours, falling to his feet instead.

As you opened your mouth once again, words fighting to go past the lump in your throat, someone from the team suddenly called out Lando’s name, his attention shifting to the engineer as he briefly waved at him.

This was it. If you let him go, you knew you wouldn’t find another moment like that for a while. No more backing down, no more second-guessing yourself—it had to be now.

“Wait, I… I need to tell you something else.” The almost panicked tone you used made his head snap back toward you, his eyes shifting from the hand you’d grabbed his arm with to yours, a spark of something you couldn’t really put your finger on flashing across them. “Yeah?” Was that… hope, in his voice?

“I just–well, I’ve been thinking about this… a lot. It’s not exactly easy for me to say, but–” You let out a nervous laugh, running a hand through your hair. “God, I’m already making a mess of this. What I’m trying to say is…”

Your gaze wandered over all the faces that surrounded you, suddenly very aware of their presence, until it landed on Oscar’s. A smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he just gave you an encouraging nod, to which the words started spilling out in a flood.

“I like you, Lando. I have for a while now. Ok, maybe more than a while, but that’s not the point. And not in a friendly kind of way, more like in a ‘I’ve-liked-you-for-over-seven-months-now-but-I-didn’t-know-how-to-tell-you’ kind of way, which sounds desperate when I say it out loud but–”

You stopped, realizing how fast you were talking, your words tumbling over each other. Lando’s expression hadn’t changed, and your stomach dropped.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you muttered, both your hands blocking out the defeated sigh you let out shortly after. “Listen, forget I said anything. I should’ve just kept my mouth shut–”

And that’s exactly what you did.

Before you could even process what was going on, Lando’s fingers were tightly wrapped around your wrists, giving them a firm yet gentle tug that drew you right into him, your lips meeting halfway.

The kiss took you completely by surprise, eyes widening in disbelief as your words got muffled by Lando’s mouth, which had crashed almost aggressively against yours, stealing your breath right away. His lips tasted yours, hungry, the lingering flavor of champagne making your head spin together with the room around you; someone whistled, someone even shouted an amused ‘Get a room!’, but you felt like you were under a glass bell, everything else shut out from the little universe only you and Lando had access to.

Lost in the burning sensation of your mouths moving together, he placed your hands on his chest and brought up his own to cup your jaw, his thumbs gently grazing your cheeks as you tangled your fingers through his brown curls to deepen the kiss even more.

When you broke away, he didn’t entirely pull back—not yet—his forehead rested lightly against yours, a lazy grin now plastered on his face. “You talk too much, you know that?” he teased, voice barely above a whisper, only for you to hear.

“I–you–why…?” A series of incoherent words fell from your mouth, the realization of what had just happened hitting you like a ton of bricks.

“Because I like you too, you muppet,” he mumbled, the blush on his cheeks now blatant. “And I would’ve told you tonight if you just didn’t beat me to it. But I guess I can’t win them all, now, can I?”

“Wait, you actually like me?” It was all too good to be true, like a dream from which you’d eventually have to wake up.

“Do I need to kiss you again to prove it?” His tone was playful, but the look in his eyes spoke louder than any words ever could. “Maybe you do,” you breathed out, your smile matching his own as he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, the rest of the world immediately fading away and leaving no room for doubt.

Because now, now you knew.

-------------------------❦︎-------------------------

©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[prince-geo]

literally pleased with almost all of the new atla trailer except as per usual, Zuko's scar, idk why studios are so scared to commit to the intensity of the thing, its supposed to be shocking and obvious and textured and the first thing you see... that's the point, Zuko is supposed to struggle with feeling like it defines and brands him before finally coming to the point in his journey where he defines it.

Hollywood/big studios are known to hesitate or straight up avoid properly and honestly and unapologetically showing people with disfigurements/disabilities/facial differences etc. with the realism they deserve. Which is a shame in general for representation and humanization but ESPECIALLY in this case as its minimization actively harms it's narrative purpose as well

I promise making the scar more intense (shrivel up the ear a bit, make it intrude in his hairline, make his eye in a permanent squint due to nerve damage, for god sake REMOVE THE EYEBROW IT WAS BURNED OFF) will not make Zuko "ugly", (the actor is incapable of looking ugly and also the implication that scars make people too unappealing? yikes) but will actually do the character and his journey justice, not to mention really show Ozai's brutality, another essential narrative tool. Especially when he's bald like hello??? It should be even more stark and intense when he doesn't have hair to distract from it and cover his ear!!!

When transitioning from 2D to live action, of course some visuals are up for interpretation but that usually involved ADDING detail because the constraints of having to stay on modeling frame to frame is gone, not minimizing, removing or airbrushing. Doing Zuko's scar right to me is absolutely essential and I'm disappointed they seem just as as scared to go there as I thought they might. It doesn't have to be gory, if you've ever seen burn victims in real life or in pictures or even cosplayers/artists who are skilled in realistic burn makeup you'd know its possible to balance realism with humanity. It's possible especially with their resources to avoid the "scary Halloween makeup" route while not holding back on the brutality of the original injury.

Budget is definitely not an issue, or "scaring the kids" considering this remake is likely aiming to go a lil darker in tone than the cartoon (which was already super dark with its target audience of nickelodeon 7 year olds so no excuses) Audiences SHOULD be unsettled and upset when they see him but not because he's hard/disturbing to look at but because we are human and do not want to imagine someone doing that to a child.

It's a deliberate choice out of the all too common fear/hesitation to allow someone who is destined to eventually become a protagonist and is meant to be sympathized with to be "too ugly" while this hesitation is very rarely applied to straight up villains (again we come back to media's historic villainization of facial deformity). It's a trend that's always ticked me off in fanart too. The boy's face was melted, for gods sake. Zuko was always portrayed as an attractive boy in the cartoon (fire nation girls fawn over him) even with the intensity of his scar which is something I've always admired! People exist with scars similar to Zuko's in real life, and should not only be permitted to be represented as good guys and/or as attractive when their scars are toned down to be "palatable"

Like I said there's more that I loved than didn't love about the trailer, that can be a whole essay on it's own but I needed to get this very specific vent off my chest because it missed the mark so hard and stands out like a sore thumb in comparison to all the other visuals that hit the nail on the head to me

[spxllcxstxr]

Jayce Dating Someone from the Undercity • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: i would like to request jayce x fem reader headcanons with a reader who is from the undercity. -- anon

Warnings: mention of undercity judgment/bigots, mentions of scars, general anxiety, still very very cute

A.N: JAYCE!!!! 😫😫😫😫😫😫 I love him so much, I hope you all enjoy!

•

You never thought you would end up with someone like Jayce Talis. Piltover’s Golden Boy. The Man of Progress. An easily excitable man with just the biggest heart. No, you never thought you’d ever be this lucky

At first you thought he was just some privileged top sider; pretty on the outside, ugly in the inside. But Jayce wears his big heart on his sleeve. Within moments of interacting with him it was revealed to you that he was a caring individual with dreams of helping people in need. He wanted peace and prosperity for all

No matter how hard he tries, Jayce will never understand what life was like in the murky depths of the Undercity. You had friends you considered as family growing up, of course; that was the sliver of happiness you were lucky enough to have. But even then life was tough

The constant fear of something lurking behind you (or hanging above you) was one you couldn't shake even after years of living top side with Jayce. The need to check over your shoulder when strolling through the streets of Piltover and the frantic obsession with double--no, triple--checking the locks in your apartment was a necessity that was buried deep within your soul

(When you first started dating you felt immensely embarrassed by the mannerisms the Undercity ingrained into you. It took a couple dates before Jayce asked you in a hushed voice if you were being followed by a chem-baron or some other adjacent criminal. At that point you knew you had to sit him down and explain everything)

Jayce is ever so patient when it comes to you. While in the lab he wants answers and results for whatever he's tinkering with, with you he feels as if he can sit and wait forever. If you ever need to talk he’s all ears

He never made you feel stupid or insane for your habits, not even when you first told him about how you were raised. Jayce was so patient as you told him with tears in your eyes that no amount of time top side would stop the gnawing anxiety your childhood gave you. He held your hands and wiped the tears away as they ran down your cheeks. You almost made him cry, golden eyes filled to the brim with tears making them look like liquid sunlight

That's when you really knew you loved him completely, and that he had loved you too. That was your Jayce, a man who wanted to understand you and have you know every second that he had your back

Despite your differences, Jayce never made you feel less than. Being top side made you feel like you were branded with the term 'Undercity Rat' across your forehead. People would give you looks and stuff their hands deep in their pockets to grasp onto their coins tighter when you walked by. But Jayce was never like that. Maybe it was because of his close friendship with Viktor, or maybe your sweet, sweet Jayce simply wasn't born with a bigoted bone in his body

Jayce also sticks up for you and has your back if anyone makes you feel unwelcome top side. He knows you can hold your own and fight your own battles, but he can’t help but get involved and defend you. His jaw clenches and his knuckles turn white from squeezing his hands into tight fists at his sides. He just doesn’t believe that you of all people should be judged. Jayce believes that you are a kind and beautiful soul and that you deserve the world

He likes holding your hand when walking around the city, not only because he’s big on touch and displays of affection, but also to let everyone know that he loves you—no matter your background

If you have any physical scars on your body he will always lightly kiss them; showing affection is what Jayce loves doing. He wants to make sure you know that he loves every single part of you

He loves that you and Viktor become friends. You two started out with a shared bond of being Undercity street kids turned top siders. Jayce asks Viktor for advice when it comes to you, whether you would like something or if you knew what something was

All in all, Jayce just wants you to feel loved every second of every day. He has so much love for you and he wants to show it. He’s just bursting out the seams with his admiration for you. You are his everything, and he’s never afraid to show that off

•

[variousqueerthings]

i do think that specifically david tennant being very openly supportive of the trans community has had an interesting effect -- because usually im kinda like "it is nice to know that people whose work i enjoy don't want me dead" and that's kinda my level of (at this point) quite cynical engagement with what a celebrity or artist does or does not think about transness, because these days it feels like it's almost fashionable for well-known (or post-well-known) people to come out of the wordwork and say what they think about trans people, which can get very stressful in its own way (the amount of headlines that try to be misleading or just plain don't say and so you're just like "ok i guess this week i have to find out if [spins wheel] thinks i deserve rights")

but david tennant has a different feeling to it. and to be fair, there are plenty of people with skin in the game, who absolutely deserve to and ought to speak out on behalf of their children/partners/community/friends/family/etc. and im always happy to see these people speak, and dt is included in that list as well

but david tennant is veeery specific in this here country of terf island, in which the labour party will openly state that it will allow certain book writers to affect their policies on trans people, and that's partly because of the effect above in which "having opinions on trans rights seems to be a celebrity game that keeps you relevant, which includes ex prime minister tony blair making his opinion known (hint, it wasn't a good one)" but also because david tennant is known as a national icon to rival that of whatsherface

he was the main actor on doctor who, in the top three, if not very top of british broadcasting iconography that exists. he's one of this generation's most famous shakespearian actors, the other thing that this country-as-culture is most proud of. he's a mainstay in children's film and tv, a standout in modern british crime drama (broadchurch, des), and that's not mentioning things like jessica jones, good omens, and star wars

this guy has no social media, and some of the biggest cultural capital in the uk today -- labour i believe it was made a twitter joke about him ousting the current prime minister as the doctor ahead of this week's election, because that's an iconic scene from doctor who

which means that when he openly calls transphobes whingy and asks them to shut up, there's a bit of a ripple... i mean what are you gonna do, get angry with the doctor? from doctor who??? the man who played a definitive hamlet????? the man who's just done rave reviewed performances of macbeth???? scrooge mcduck????????? this man who occasionally guests on cbeebies???????????

said prime minister and his party and hosts of transphobes go absolutely crazy every time he makes an appearance wearing new trans ally apparel, as if a. he sees any of that and b. it's a dignified response to a man saying, in essence, "i would like my kid to be safe and happy"

david tennant constantly making these statements, again and again, is a powerful voice in the modern fight for trans rights in the UK, in some ways unfortunately, because you wish trans people could have been heard before it got to this state and that it wasn't about being famous, but to be fair, he's also making that point again and again

it kind of feels like the first time in a long time that there's been proper pushback against transphobia in this country from a perspective that the transphobes can't dismiss so easily -- they can try but like. again, one side is a bunch of raving nonsense-spouters on a joke website who mostly belong to a party that's about to get decidedly ousted from the political scene, the other is beloved national icon and star of stage and screen, mr david tennant

of course, it doesn't hurt that the three main actors of harry potter and everyone else who's majorly involved in doctor who, past and present, is also supportive of trans rights, which maybe there's a separate point to be made about the strangeness of a mainstream tv show becoming a cultural battleground for peoples opinions on equal rights, especially now with ncuti gatwa at the helm, because i think some of what ive seen in relation to dw is more extreme than any piece of cultural media ive been alive to witness bigoted reactions to (including star trek), and ncuti gatwa as a black queer man is taking a hell of a lot of flack that is racist and homophobic

but labour... if you're inviting random artists to give you opinions on trans rights, david tennant is right there, and you know he'd make sure to bring along trans rights activists and professionals to get the space in the room they ought to have had all along

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCXDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 5)

—

Tw: torture scene (GiW agent receiving), general angst, canon-typical violence (DC), nobody is having a good time

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was pretty easy for Danny to forget that Dr. Crane was a rogue at times.

Most of the time he wasn’t comically evil, like what he’d expect of a Gotham rogue. He was helping Danny, even if only because he didn’t want to be taken in by the GiW as well. He was even downright nice most of the time, or at least neutral.

Sure, he had a strange obsession with fear and psychology, but that wasn’t really out of the ordinary for Danny. It didn’t feel like living with a rogue, just like…staying with a distant relative, or something.

He seemed like just an ordinary person.

Today, though, Danny was brought back to reality.

The GiW agent they’d tracked down together writhed on the ground, screaming in pain and terror. Scarecrow was sat a few feet away, setting up a syringe of the antidote he’d made.

After a few more moments, he injected the man with the antidote, watching him like a hawk the entire time.

Suddenly, the man surged forward, lunging at Scarecrow with a feral scream.

Unluckily for him, though, he was still weak from the fear toxin in his system, and from the beatings he’d received prior. Scarecrow easily wrestled him to the ground, settling himself on the broad part of the agent’s back with a vice grip on one of his arms.

“Let’s try again,” he said sharply, all of the warmth Danny had grown used to gone from his voice. “Where is the GiW base of operations?”

The agent took several shuddering breaths before spitting at Scarecrow, defiance and hatred written all over his face.

For just a moment, the room was utterly silent.

“Fine, have it your way.”

Scarecrow began to twist the man’s arm further. It wasn’t long before the agent began to squirm, then writhe, beneath him. Danny’s stomach churned.

“You know,” Scarecrow began, almost conversationally, “there are plenty of jobs that one can get without the use of their legs, especially with the level of education you have. Anything that doesn’t involve hard labor, really.”

The man’s face was beginning to turn red in his struggle not to scream. He took in gasping breaths, the way that his mouth moved almost reminding Danny of a goldfish.

(He felt awful for the comparison, but it was true.)

“However,” Scarecrow continued, “I find you’d be rather hard-pressed to find a job without the use of your arms. Especially in a place like Gotham, where you can always be replaced by someone eager to do your job for even less money. Of course, you could most likely coast off of savings and severance pay for a while, but…”

He leaned closer to the man’s head, his voice lowering.

“Would you be able to live like that? To live with yourself, if you no longer have a purpose?”

He allowed the agent a few seconds of rest before increasing the pressure on his arm. The agent gasped, letting out a strangled hiss. His arm bones were making fascinating noises in response to the strain. Danny felt sick.

“You seem like a rather driven young man. I’m sure your family would hate to see you unmotivated, directionless. Would they resent you, do you think?”

“Fuck you, you—”

The man was cut off by his own scream as Scarecrow finally allowed his arm to break, audibly splintering into thousands of useless shards of bone.

He had the exact pressure memorized. Clearly, he had done this before.

This was wrong. This was wrong.

Shouldn’t Danny step in, do something?

“That won’t heal cleanly. Even with the best medical care in the world, you’ll end up with permanent damage.”

The man below him wheezed and sobbed, choking on air as Scarecrow let go of his arm carelessly, letting it flop back onto the ground.

“Just the sort of thing something like you deserves,” Scarecrow hissed, his voice cold.

“You tortured a child, and you enjoyed it. You laughed with your friends about it. In your notes, one of your friends complained about the screaming,” Scarecrow brought his leg around, grinding his boot into the man’s broken arm. He howled in agony, writhing uncontrollably.

“Was it inconvenient to him, do you think? Too loud? If you were joking about it, clearly you thought so, too. I could fix that as well.”

He drew out another needle, this one once again filled with fear toxin.

“Scarecrow, wait,” Danny choked out.

Scarecrow turned to look at him.

Even his posture was different than usual. He looked… stiff, more like an animal than a man. When he tilted his head at Danny in a silent question, it looked like something in his neck had snapped, his head lolling to the side.

Danny wondered if he was consciously moving like that, or if it was habit at this point.

“You—we don’t have to do this. We can get information some other way, right? You don’t have to…”

Danny looked down at the GiW agent below Scarecrow. He didn’t even have it in him to glare up at Danny like he had before. Instead he laid limply on the ground, tremors rolling through his body uncontrollably.

“We’ve exhausted every other option and you know it,” Scarecrow said, his voice low, “this is the only way we can move forward.”

“Still, I—I don’t,” Danny swallowed, his throat tight, “this isn’t—this isn’t right. Isn’t there some other way to do this? Like—a truth serum, or something?”

“Truth serums are notoriously unreliable. They’re almost as bad as lie detectors. We’re much more likely to get a reliable result from this.”

Danny just stared at the GiW agent and his splintered, ruined arm. He began to weakly wriggle in Scarecrow’s grasp, which was graciously ignored.

He vaguely remembered himself doing the same thing when he was on the operating table; even if he knew there was no chance of escape, he still thrashed and screamed, desperate to get away. The jagged I-shaped incision on his torso felt uncomfortably warm.

What was there left to say?

“The Bat does the same thing at times, you know,” Scarecrow said, “him and the rest of his brood. By using my toxin, I’m actually lessening the amount of permanent damage that I’m doing. Physically.”

“Still, that doesn’t make it right,” Danny said desperately. “Even if—even if everyone in the world did this, it wouldn’t make it right.”

Scarecrow hummed.

They were both silent for a moment.

His next words were gentle, absurdly so when compared to the scene in front of him.

“I would love an alternative. But…”

He shrugged, hand coming to rest on the break in the GiW agent’s arm. Even without applying any pressure, the man stopped squirming immediately.

“There aren’t any other options,” Danny repeated, his voice flat and his body numb.

“Yes,” Scarecrow said. “I’m sorry.”

There was a pause. No one moved a muscle. Eventually Scarecrow spoke again, his voice strangely empty.

“You can stand outside and keep watch, if you’d like. At such a short distance their radars won’t pick us up.”

Danny said nothing, leaving the room silently.

He sat outside for quite a while.

He was grateful that Scarecrow had, with his help, dragged the agent to one of his previous hideouts. It was soundproofed, after all.

He was glad that he didn’t have to hear the rest of what Scarecrow did to the man.

After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Crane left the building, joining him outside. He guided Danny back to his beat up old truck and they drove home in silence.

“Did you at least…do you know where they are, now?” Danny asked as they entered the apartment, his voice small.

“They didn’t share the details of all of their locations with any one person. I know where one of their locations are, but not their main base of operations.”

Danny felt disgusted. With himself, with Dr. Crane, with the GiW.

He was disgusted by the agent, too. Did he just hate the restless dead so much that he would prefer to be tortured than to give them the upper hand? Did he really think he was in the right?

Was there a chance that he was?

Danny felt very, very small, and very stupid. Stupid and weak and cowardly.

“Danny,” Dr. Crane spoke, his voice soft.

“I’m truly sorry that this is happening to you. I really, truly wish that you didn’t have to endure my company. I…”

He fell quiet. Danny wondered if he was just saying this to pacify him, or if he truly meant it. He wondered if it really mattered in the end.

After a few moments of silence, Dr. Crane sighed, looking truly pained.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

Danny was quiet.

“I’m going to bed early,” he finally said, turning away and leaving without a second glance.

—

[thisonehere]

The Lin Kuei boys find your diary and learn that you're in love with them

Mk Headkanons

A/n: Here you are, the winner of my recent poll. Just a little fun headcanon while I work on another request. It should be ready by Wednesday or Thursday.

Tags: MK1, Polls winner, invasion of privacy (but their hot so it's okay)

C/w: None

Bi-Han

This wasn't usually like Bi-Han, of all things the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was, invading someone's privacy wasn't one of them. Until today of course.

Today was the 4th time in a row that you were missing from your training session with him. He would've thought that being allowed to train with the Lin Kuei's very own grandmother would be considered an honor. Yet here he was, standing alone looking like a fool waiting for you.

Bi-Han does not like being stood up, especially not by you. You whom he holds in such a high regard. He has so much respect for, he is generally fond of you, he feels things for you he can't even explain. So he goes to look for you, bringing him to your room.

He enters with even knocking, you don't deserve such a thing with how many times you stood him up. When he sees you aren't here he turns to leave, still eager to find, to let you know how hurt furious he is by your actions.

But before he can make it to the door, he sees something at the corner of his eye. A book. No, not just any book. Your diary.

Bi-Han thinks such things are stupid, and a waste of time. Nonsense made for children not adults. Surely anyone who partakes in this are ridiculous...But...this is your diary, and he doesn't think your ridiculous or a child at all.

He picks it up, showing care as he holds it carefully in his hands. He inspects from front cover to the back with a perplexed curiosity. Why would anyone have this? Why would you have this? He holds you in such a high regard that he views such trivial things as beneath you. What could be so important you would need have your very thoughts and deepest darkest secrets left on paper.

He knows his brothers wouldn't hesitate to open it and read. But not him though. Because unlike them he has restraint, he has strength, he has-

Bi-Han starts flipping through the pages. There has to be something in here that explains why you've so distant and absent lately. His eyes scan each and every word like they have a sacred meaning.

He especially looks for parts where you talk about him. Surely you will speak with utmost respect for your grandmaster. Maybe you explain why you've been avoiding him too.

Eventually he finds a part where you bring him up, he completely ignores the part where you talk about his brothers and goes straight t6o part where he is involved.

He takes notice with how you talk about him. You talk about how you felt butterflies in your stomach when you were near him, the way he made your heart race, the fear you had that he'd notice you blushing, how much you loved him, you wanted to be with him until the end of all time. You then go one to say the dirtiest, the most depraved things he has ever read in his life about him.

But Bi-Han reads on. He takes note of all the nasty things you'd like him to do to you. Part of him is slightly appalled. The other is very amused.

After staring at it for a while, Bi-Han clears his throat and sits the book back to where he found it and leaves.

From that point on, you can't help but notice that Bi-Han has been staring at you whenever you were in the same room. He is noticeably more patient with you than he was before. In fact, it's almost like he's being nice to you.

He has never really thought of you in such a manner before, but now, now you have his interest.

Kuai Liang

Like his brother, Kuai is a man very respectful of other people's privacy...sort of. Kuai will respect your privacy most of the time, he'll try to at least.

Kuai had been looking for you all day, he wanted to talk to you about a very private Lin Kuei business. He also wanted to see you again, just hearing your voice made his day better. But you were just friends so he never told you about it because then that would make things weird.

Kuai gets to your door and gently knocks before he enters. He happily calls your name as he enters. When he sees that you aren't present he disappointedly turns to leave. But he catches something in the corner of his eye.

He goes to pick it up, he doesn't really know what it is at first. He's not as familiar with concpt as Bi-Han and Tomas. So he opens it and starts reading. It doesn't take him long to figure out what it is after reading the first page.

After that something clicks and he goes to put it down and leave. Or that is at least what he wants to do. He is so tempted to continue that he has to remind himself how wrong thus is.

To continue reading is wrong. It's a violation of you, one of his closest friends. Besides, he is an honorable man, he believes in duty and respect and-

Anyway, now he is sitting on your bed reading through your diary like it's the Bible. He's basically halfway through the books so he convince himself that it's far too late to turn back now.

He is specifically interested in reading what you have to say about him. So he flips ahead to a writing log where you mention him. Kuai takes a deep breath before reading, he generally hopes you like him.

You talk about how nice you think Kuai is, how cool, also hot he is. Pun intended.

It took Kuai a few seconds to process what you just said. He reads on, finding more writing logs about him and they all say similar things about how attracted you are to him. He gets one specific one where you were talking about all the things you liked about him.

Kuai was overwhelmed with all this affection you had on paper for him. At the end, you confess that you have feelings for him, that you were in love with him.

Kuai couldn't believe what he was seeing, it was on paper in front of him yet he still couldn't believe it. He sets the book back where he found it and quickly leaves your room.

The next coming days were tough for him. Whenever he looked at you, all he could think about was your words. He was still in shock, this all felt so unreal. He stares into your eyes and wonders how long you felt this way, if you still feel this way.

He wants to come up to you, tell me that he feels the same way. But that would also mean he'd have to confess about reading your diary. Would you be forgiving if he tells you? Maybe, you'll just need time to forgive.

He will just fantasize about the potential future he could have with you if everything goes. Please, Elder gods of you're listening, let things go well.

Tomas

Tomas is a sweetheart, that is known. But he is also a very nosey sweetheart. Unlike his brothers, Tomas is a very curious person. That often is much to his and others slcurgrine

He comes to your room with the hopes of being able to hang out with you. Kuai and Bi-Han were always so busy so it was often you two who hung out the most.

Tomas enjoys the time he spent with you. Bi-Han and Kuai can often be pretty intense for him to be around, so he finds comfort with being just with you.

After knocking a few times he enters, much to his disappointment you aren't here. He goes to leave hoping to find you, until he notices your diary. It caught his attention the single second he laid eyes on it. He immediately recognizes what it is, he has one himself.

The thoughts of opening and reading all your dark and dirty secrets pop into Tomas's head instantly. I can't, he thinks. How could I possibly do this to you? I would be violating your personal space. There could be something in there that is really embarrassing, or be about your deepest darkest desires, maybe even someone you might have a crush on.

Tomas tries to fight off the temptation to read it, but he fails. He carefully picks up the book and opens it. Already he feels filthy with guilt.

He begins to look through it, every page feels like a sin to read, but he couldn't stop reading. The thrill of it all kept him going to the point that he already got through almost half of the book. He laughed at your most embarrassing stories, he felt sad when you expressed any tragedy or hardship you faced, he felt overjoyed at your victories.

He felt pretty good...until you began to talk about him and his brothers. At this point he got nervous at what you could potentially think about him and his brothers, especially him. It was pretty standard things, you thought Kuai was nice, Bi-Han was a hothead, and you thought Tomas was cute...wait...

Tomas's eyes grew ten inches wide at this. What? N-No, that's all wrong he has to read it again. Cute? What do you mean cute? Cute as in nice, o-or as in attractive. Surely you meant as in kind.

He flips forward, finding another log where you talked about him. Here you go into much more detail about how you felt towards Tomas, how much you loved, the way he made useful so giddy, you just wanted to plant kisses him all over his cute little face.

Tomas, jaw on the floor and eyes wide opened to the point of almost popping out, couldn't believe what he was reading. He cheeks were turning red with blush and he was without words as he continued reading. Okay, now he really regrets reading this.

In a panicked state, Tomas throws your book somewhere and runs out of your room.

The next few days were hell for Tomas. He felt like such a horrible friend. He betrayed your trust and privacy, and now he knows that you're in love with him. He feels horrible whenever he sees and remembers what he's read, how he invaded your privacy.

As he continues, Tomas can't help but think of you differently now. He fears that he's falling in love with you now. He thinks. He doesn't know.

Gods, he just wishes he never opened that book. Now he has developed feeling for you in such a rapid pace, he doesn't know what to do. Maybe he'll just have to confess to reading your diary.

He plans too eventually, the guilt eats him up every day. He just needs to work up the courage to do so. Hopefully you won't hate him, please don't hate him.

[heliads]

I love you writing and I was hoping you could write Ben Florian x VK!Reader the reader is Lefou's kid. A soulmate AU where the negative things you think about yourself are marked on your soulmate's skin. Reader only has one or two things because Ben is from Auradon and has a good life and family. While Ben has around half a dozen. Reader is the one who gives Ben the love potion. During the lake scene they notice Ben is their soulmate and tries (but fails) to hide it thinking he deserves better

masterlist

There really is no good place for a prince. They are political figureheads in every sense of the phrase— too young to actually rule, too old to be allowed to skip state functions. They sit in corners of expensive meetings and cut ribbons in front of newly opened buildings, but they can’t do a whole lot except smile and pose. 

Shame your friend seems so fixated on capturing one, then. It feels like you’ve just barely left the Isle of the Lost, only bid farewell to the entirety of your prior life experience hours ago, and yet already Mal is scheming about how to best tear down everything around you. If Prince Ben is the best way to fulfill her nefarious plans, then so be it.

The only problem is that you’re now involved in all of this, too. Mal wants a wand and so she’ll take a prince to get there, but as one of her best friends, you’ve been drafted into the plot to catch a prince. Ben won’t have any idea what’s coming. Shame, he would probably run if he had any clue.

Mal’s good at covering her tracks, though, she always has been. You can remember elaborate plans from when you were much younger to steal cookies or cloaks, spellbooks and shoes. At this point, hearing Mal tell you that she’s going to bewitch the crown prince of Auradon into falling in love with her shouldn’t surprise you, just the fact that she’s taken this long to come up with the idea.

Usually, you have no problem going along with Mal’s little adventures. They’re entertaining, at the least, a good way to pass a few days when you’ve already gone over every alleyway and hiding place on the Isle at least a dozen times in the last month. The issue is that you’re not on the Isle anymore, and maybe– just maybe– disrupting everything here isn’t entirely what you want to do.

Mal doesn’t know this, of course. None of your fellow VKs do. Every time they monologue and moan about how they can’t wait to get out of this place, you find yourself holding your tongue, biting back your real thoughts about how the school isn’t actually as bad as you feared. Sure, the constant judgment from the other children of princes and princesses isn’t all that fun, but Auradon Prep has its positives, too. For one thing, you think your soulmate might be here.

What a terrible thing for the child of a villain to prioritize. You’ve heard Mal scoff at the idea of a soulmate, and although Evie is certainly more interested in the idea than some of your other friends, you’re still not sure that you’d find a welcome audience amongst their ranks when it comes to tracking down your soulmate. After all, the odds of that soulmate being from Auradon and not the Isle are pretty high. They’ve all but told you that themselves.

All things considered, for a society with such control over magic and spells, it’s pretty difficult to find your soulmate. You’d always wondered why those in charge couldn’t shorten the whole affair to something more simple– a name on the wrist, perhaps, or an invisible string that only the two of you could see– but instead, soulmate magic went the complicated route. How lovely.

The story about the origin of the soulmate magic is convoluted and ancient, going back generations and changing with each family. The general consensus is that soulmates were created to preserve the sanctity of true love, with the idea that soulmates should be able to love each other entirely, flaws and all. So, when you think something negative about yourself, those very same thoughts will show up on the skin of your soulmate, something like a warning label for what they’re going to get themselves into.

This is all well and good for people with few negative thoughts, maybe they’ll have something here and there about a bad sports result or a poor test grade that their soulmate can chuckle over before meeting them. For you, though? You, the child of a villain, cursed to live forever on a too-small island with the other convicts and criminals, you have had more fears and hated things about yourself than most. Your soulmate must be covered in unhappy musings, which only makes you feel worse about yourself than before. A self-perpetuating cycle of the worst kind.

By contrast, the startling absence of your soulmate’s negative thoughts on your own skin makes you certain that they couldn’t be from the Isle of the Lost. There are only one or two fears on your skin, proof of loving parents and a stable home, and they’re minor things like a bad hair day or a fear of not doing their absolute best. These change, often leaving every few months to be replaced by something else insignificant.

What makes you most certain that your soulmate is the child of a royal is the one negative thought that has stayed on your skin since the very beginning. Your soulmate, whoever they are, is terrified that they will let down the king and queen. Only someone with close ties to the royalty could have such a fear, so it’s proof that your soulmate is somewhere here on Auradon.

So maybe you don’t want to leave this place, not yet. Not until you can learn who your soulmate is. It’ll be almost impossible to track them down on this information alone, but supposedly that’s how the whole thing is supposed to work. You learn about the worst parts of your soulmate, and then you get to love the best of them. The only problem is that you’re fairly sure that if your soulmate is a royal, they won’t want to love you at all.

It’s easier to ignore the whole affair. Easier to agree to Mal’s plan when she proposes enchanting Prince Ben. At least another one of your friend’s schemes will keep your mind off the soulmate affair.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, but your conscience is starting to get steadily more vocal as the days go by. Ben is a nice guy, which hurts, surprisingly. Although the love spell may have been cast on Mal, as one of Mal’s closest friends, you’re around the two of them all the time. The boy you see is someone that you wish could be your soulmate. He may be a prince, and you may be a villain, but he makes you want to believe in love after all.

You certainly have the capacity for such musings. For some reason, the love spell didn’t take all that well, and although Ben is now compelled to stay with Mal more than he was before, it’s not like he’s totally obsessed with her as Mal had hoped. Mal claims it’s because love spells can never work fully due to the soulmate issue, like having a soulmate is a kind of shield to protect you against that sort of enchantment, but regardless, Ben has just enough independent thought that he can tell you jokes and try to make you smile like– well, like he tries to do with Mal.

The realization that Ben is a genuinely good person, and worse, someone you don’t want to trick, haunts you as you fall further into Mal’s scheme. You’ve been trying to push the whole thing from your mind, letting Ben join your soulmate in the depths of your mind you don’t want to touch, but your train of thought keeps circling back to him despite your best attempts otherwise.

Besides, it doesn’t help that Mal keeps trying to involve you in the plot. Right now, the two of them are at the Enchanted Lake, out on a cute little date. Mal had been making mock disgusted faces at you the whole time she was getting ready, but some part of yourself can’t stop whispering that this doesn’t seem so bad, actually, that the thought of being out here alone with Ben would make for a wonderful day instead of the tedious chore Mal is making it out to be.

Ben doesn’t know you’re here, though. Mal wanted backup in case something happened, so you’re lingering in the woods to keep anyone from stumbling upon the scene and also holding onto more magical baked goods in case Mal feels the need to renew the spell. It’s kind of like torture, strolling through this beautiful forest, knowing that Ben is so close and you are helping hold him under the thrall of this plot.

The storm in your mind must be thundering too loudly for you to think straight, because you lose track of yourself and accidentally walk too close to the lake. You weren’t supposed to be spotted, but before you can back away and melt back into the foliage, Ben looks up and sees you. You panic, immediately heading the way you’d come, but you hear footsteps after you moments later and Ben manages to track you down before you can go too far. Mal is so going to kill you for messing with her plan.

“Sorry,” you murmur, eyes wide when he finally catches up to you, “I didn’t realize the two of you were– I’ll go now.”

Ben shakes his head. “No, no, it’s alright. It’s not like we have a monopoly on the woods.”

He’s dripping water, most likely due to a recent dip in the lake, and you can’t seem to stop your gaze from following the path of the droplets as they cascade down his shoulders, across his hands, and, most importantly of all, over the swooping letters of the fears of his soulmates. 

Usually, Ben wears long sleeves or something else to hide them. You can see why now– there are many of them, many more than you, perhaps half a dozen in all. You can’t read all of them from where you’re standing, just snippets about how a villain’s kid shouldn’t have a soulmate, how they’ll never amount to much, things like that. Things like what you’ve been thinking recently.

Ben must catch on to your train of thought, because he smiles weakly, absentmindedly scratching at a sentence proclaiming that his soulmate isn’t worth the good luck they get. “Yeah, my soulmate’s a little stressed, I guess. Hopefully, I can talk about that with them soon. I want them to know that they’re worth it, wherever they are.”

It had never occurred to you that hating yourself would make your soulmate this obsessed. You have no proof that Ben is your soulmate but– 

But, as you watch, you can see a new fear appearing out of nowhere, wrapping itself around Ben’s left wrist. I’m not good enough for a soulmate this good. Just what you were thinking mere moments ago. It’s like proof.

Ben looks up slowly, and although you were never blessed with the ability to read minds, you swear you can tell exactly what he’s thinking right now. “Are you–” he starts, ends, tries again, “Do you know who your soulmate is?”

You can do several things at this moment. You can confirm what you’re mostly sure is true, you can lie, you can pretend you hadn’t heard him. You spot movement in the trees behind him, a flash of purple, and remember belatedly that Mal is still somewhere at the Enchanted Lake, waiting for Ben to come back and wondering why you’re holding him here for so long.

All of a sudden, the reality of the situation comes crashing down around your shoulders. This is not something that can happen. Ben is a prince. You are the child of a villain, and the friend of another VK who’s counting on you to continue fooling Ben so she can pursue her latest mad plan. There is no world in which this works out.

So, you force a smile, banishing all thoughts back into the deep recesses of your brain once more. “No,” you say, “I don’t know. I think they’re a VK, though.”

Ben’s face falls in a flash. “Really? Because I thought–”

You shake your head quickly. “I don’t– it’s not me. I think Mal is waiting for you, though. You shouldn’t keep her for long.”

Ben glances back over his shoulder in memory of the girl he’s left somewhere in the woods behind him, and when he looks back, you’re gone. You’re good at running. It’s a skill you’ve perfected over the years. You just never thought you’d have to use it now.

Prince Ben is your soulmate. Impossible. True. Mal comes back later that afternoon, tells you the date went splendidly despite your accidental intrusion. Ben must not have let the brief moment in the woods faze him for long. It hurts more than you care to admit.

There is only so much running a VK can do, try as they might to pretend otherwise. You avoid Ben at all costs, hoping that whatever foolish war is currently being fought inside your heart will come to a tolerable ceasefire if you just ignore it long enough. Mal tells you that the plan is going swimmingly, she’s never seen the prince more excited about the VKs and the upcoming coronation. You nod and smile and tell her that you’re glad everything is going to plan, but inside, you cannot seem to stop your mind from screaming. 

And then, all of a sudden, despite your best attempts to remain out of sight, Prince Ben finds you. It’s completely out of the blue, so casual that you almost don’t realize it’s happening until he’s sitting down at your table in the library and it’s too late to run. 

You feel like an animal caught in a trap. He’s just smiling like nothing is the matter. “I know it’s you,” he says by way of hello. 

Your heart is stuck in your throat. “What?”

“I know it’s you,” Ben repeats, “I know you’re my soulmate. I had the Fairy Godmother do a little spell so I could check for you, but I think I knew since that day at the lake.”

You frown. “You can do that?”

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “Not everyone can, I think. But I, uh, insisted.”

You grin. “Prince privileges?”

“Something like that.” He’s smiling, though, maybe pleased that you’re not trying to run off this time. “But you knew even without the spell, didn’t you?”

That does shake your uncertain sense of calm. “Yes,” you admit, “but I didn’t think you— I didn’t think it would work out.”

The look on Ben’s face is genuinely heartbreaking. “What, just because I’m a prince?”

He says it so casually, it’s almost funny. “Yes, Ben, because you’re a prince and I’m a VK. I mean, my dad was Lefou. He literally tried to ruin the happy ever after of your parents, why would you want someone like me to be your soulmate?”

“Same reason you shouldn’t be afraid to want me. You’re not your father, Y/N, and I’m not my parents. We’re just us, and I know that I want you to be my soulmate. I have since the start. I was hoping you would tell me you knew, but after a few days went by and you still said nothing, I figured I had to take matters into my own hands. Even if that meant using a spell or two.”

You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh in your face and tell you it’s ridiculous to think that he would ever want a VK as a soulmate, but he doesn’t. In fact, you don’t think he ever will. As impossible as it seems, Ben wants someone who isn’t from a perfect fairy tale. He wants you. And that, lovely and wonderful and absolutely crazy, sounds like a fairly good happily ever after for you. 

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed

[zorosnavigator]

Timebomb fics rec

A lot of timebomb fics are hiding through a lot of CaitVi/JayVik tagged works on ao3 (while many are also CV orJV centric) so i made this rec post for everyone who dont want to spent 1 hour scrolling or missing some of them bc you're filtering other ships!! (sorry for the short summaries/ i didnt write my thoughts as thoughtfully as i would have liked because.yk.time and all. update chapter count/add of new fics every week)

AU/crossovers fics

Je t'aime (Je t'attends) 3 chapter, WIP.

Hunger games x Timebomb/Arcane, the way the system of the games from the og novels are mixed in the Arcane universe is really masterful, the writer dont lose too much time explaining it but you understand the dynamics of the 2 cities and the characters perfectly anyway.

Where would you be now ? by enaven 5/6 chapters, WIP.

family/modern AU, timebomb feels, Ekko and Jinx are Isha's parents, CaitVi are just silly aunts and i'll never stop recommending this fic

you're the best thing to ever happen to me (but also the worst thing to ever happen to me) by grey_toiletpaper ( @greytoiletpaper ) 3/8 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Timebomb inspired by 10 things i hate about you.

We Moved Into a Real House (a Wild Field Behind it) by smokesatellite 3/10 chapters. WIP. Rated T.

Modern AU, Timebomb roommates/friends to lovers, Isha is a foster kid...you know where this is going .. (Ekko as a nurse is not something i expected but its surprisingly good. Also the in law feud between Jinx and Cait is very funny)

s1 fics

Silco is less of an asshole

The Heart of Zaun by 1ts_Br1tney_B1tch 8/ chapters. WIP.

or: Silco try to rally the Firelights to his cause (in this case, Zaun - he's much more involved in doing better for his city than in the show) but of course they're bound to have some..tension between them, since they hate him - and Shimmer. (it has the good parent Silco tag so i'd say that all in all, this Silco is a little less...Silco than in Arcane, but manage to keep some of the bite he has in canon...) i only read 2 chapters, and what i can say is that it does a good job with the general cast, the interactions between Silco/Ekko-Firelights are believable, i think the one thing that could have weird me out is the way Silco is said to be 'proud' of the Firelights in the summary (for me 'pride' is something he'd reserve for Jinx yk?? anyway i stop the rambling) . The Timebomb relationship has more or less the same push and pull as in the show, with Ekko thinking about the girl Jinx used to be/ Ekko being a link to the past before Jinx and all that entail...so yeah, i'm loving it!

Powder doesnt become Jinx

The Alpha Command by typewriter_in_galaxy 13 chapters. WIP. Rated E.

ABO/Reverse AU where Powder doesnt become Jinx and is raised by Viktor, Ekko is taken in by Silco. btw i dont read a lot of abo fic (im very nickpick) but this one does every characters justice, and actually dwelve in depth in the abo universe.. (everything by typewriter is good to be honest, but my favorite thing is how they write Powder, who even when she doesnt become Jinx, is still shaped by a very violent world/trauma and it shows through her mental health issues and very, very low self worth/need to prove herself. )

everything's better with a friend by typerwriter_in_galaxy 7chapters. Completed. Rated E.

Timebomb centric rewrite of Arcane, Jinx is Powder, she doesnt fall under Silco's hand (or in his arms precisely), Ekko is Ekko, and 1, i need to hug Powder, 2 she deserves the world and 3 the characterization of everyone, everyone is so brillantly written and the timebomb relationship (damn even the CaitVi one too) oh, the timebomb of it all... they feel so, so real and it hurts, Powder's insecurities, her mental illness, her guilt, her need to prove herself but in same time she doesnt feel herself worth of anything (or anyone) good... just.read it. read it, because i just did, after like 2 years of not doing that and. im like mad bc why didnt i??? but in same time so grateful to just discover it now, taking my sweet little time reading it; it rewinded my brain its amazing, (like this work in another fandom, the first time i read this rebelcaptain's fic A Love song by skitzofreak - did i just linked it for you to read even tho its a timebomb rec post??? yes. yes i did. thats how much i love, adore, worship this one guys - so everything's better made me think a lot of this TB fic, and also of RC (the abandonment issues, thinking that you have to leave first before everyone leave you, Jyn and Powder damn).

Shattered Web by Firewolf2132 1 chapter. WIP. Rated M.

you know how everyone make the comparaison between Ekko and Miles?? well, the author found a way for Ekko transform into a spiderman that feels right in the arcane verse (end of act1) and damn its so good. Ekko slowly morphing and gaining his powers while everyone still have some focus on them (mostly Powder), but it still manages to keep the suspense of the fate of other characters. fabulous. author note: [I have seen so many comparisons between Ekko and Miles and a lot of fanart. So it felt that I had to do this. I can't promise future chapters right now (busy), but I am eager to see if this inspires any stories with a similar premise.]

S2 fanfics

fics covering Timebomb moments between ep 8 Ekko saving her /they painted each other and ep9

Go Back For Her by A_Lily_In_The_Moonlight 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated E.

Ekko's pov -i only read 1 chapter - we see his thought's process on his relationship with Powder AU/ Jinx, and how he came to the conclusion he must go back to her. the moment where he help Jinx with his Z-drive comes a little differently than in ep8 (well, the aftermath) aaand another fic where Jinx's grief over Isha's death shatters me, the pain and the self loathing/blaming from Jinx really devastating.

I dont believe in God, but i believe you're my savior by mquesterminds One shot. Rated T

[summary: every time Ekko has to rewind time to stop Jinx it cuts to a different moment from throughout their love story because I'm allergic to happiness the moments covering their shared past really make their present 10 times sadder.]

I'm sure we're taller in another dimension by hallwayheart One shot. Rated M. i have nothing to say because i'm still processing what i just read.ty.

Fires That Were Set by ilophilia ( @ilophilia on tumblr) 1 chapter. WIP.

the conversation after Ekko helped Jinx in episode 8. Loved the banter, the emotions (the grief is there and its important to feel it but damn i want to hug them so bad). They tell each other what happened when Ekko was gone, and you feel the distance/the closeness, near intimacy building again and its beautiful..

Hope is a winged beast by Grey_ Unicorn 4 chapters. WIP. Rated E.

prepare you tissues because i was myself not ready for chapter 3 and the emotional wreck of Jinx processing her grief. but here we are.

fics from AU Powder pov/exchange between Jinx and AU Powder

what we left behind by re_dragon_rising 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated T.

Powder traverses to the og arcane universe 1 year after Ekko's visit. (the insight into her life after Ekko leaves is wholesome and also give the reader a glimpse of the Mylo/Claggor/Powder siblings dynamics + the impact of Vi's death on them. really great. a little sad too.)

The other Ekko by GrammarThyEnemy Oneshot. General audience.

Powder knows this Ekko is not her Ekko.

memento vivere by fuwaaa 1/2. WIP. General audience.

covering the AU episode, Powder knows something's up with Ekko.

See Ya On The Other Side by moth_dust 3/5 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Powder also travel to the og universe.

these forgotten faces by whippindippin ( @whippindippin on tumblr too!) 6 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Jinx and Powder body swap and its both the worst and best thing that could ever happen to either of them. great reading and their reaction on point.

Isha is alive

Astrantia by AelinCreativ ( @aelincreativ they're on tumblr too!) 5 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

canon divergence where Ekko saves Isha. a lot of angst. but also a lot of happiness. so we can cry while smiling along with them. great. ty author!!

Ankle-Biter by darkfire1220 8/9 chapters, WIP. Rated M.

Isha is Jinx's biological daughter, Silco is a not so bad (grand) father, and their mother/daughter bond is one a the greatest thing ever. (very slowburn timebomb). Also Vi. i love you Vi.

post s2

we made our peace with weariness (and let it be) by The_FlamingTiger 3/3 chapters. Completed. Rated M.

Ekko and Jinx reconnect in Bilgewater..(and Jinx goes to therapy. that too. its nice)

I don't believe in God (But I believe that you're my savior) by yeonatsu Oneshot, general audience.

Ekko is mourning.

this hunger for love won’t disappear by Amuria Oneshot, rated T.

Months after the battle for Piltover, Ekko begins to dream of Powder. He thinks it’s his grief playing tricks on him. She has different theory.

Francesca (Do You Think I'd Give Up?) by PoetProlific 2 chapters. WIP.

Ekko tries searching for Jinx...(with the help of Caitlyn, yep. and its well done, because I think Cait would help, for Vi. And i love how Ekko-Cait's dynamics might evolve because of this..)

So I met him there and told him I believe by ijustwanttoreadinpeace 3 chapters, WIP. Rated T.

Jinx begins a new life in Bilgewater but is forced to come back... (edit: be warned, this is now an orphan account so idk if there will be more chapters.)

all the 6 timebomb one shot by atabex (the other fics are not timebomb) they're all rated E and oh boy is it worth it. most of these oneshot are gut wrenching and do smut + characters so well... the most recent one is just Ekko and AU Powder ahem doing the boombayah on the rooftop, but yk, with bits of sad and tragedy here and there.

i'm a little ashamed i'm only adding it now but every TB os fics by @shroomystar is 🤌 nothing else to add because each one of them are good. so. (if you want the explicit one-shots it's here and if you prefer without, it's here )

[beardedalcoholic]

Memories of a Soul

Galgac couldn’t believe his luck.

He cursed the circumstances but promised himself he would make the most of it. For a space faring species like himself this was possibly a once in a lifetime opportunity for not only himself but his race and the galactic community as a whole.

A human was dying, an actual human! The tiny gods that ascended to the stars upon pillars of flame and madness, the seemingly unstoppable tide of warriors risen from their garden world of death.

Over a hundred cycles had passed since they took to the galactic scene and in that time, they had started as many wars as they had stopped and brought a level of culture unseen beforehand.

Wars between worlds that had been raging beyond the memory of those involved had been quelled by their words and ideas, while oppressive regimes and entire governments had been toppled from their previously unreachable heights.

With a standard lifespan many times that of their space sailing counterparts it was not unheard of for a human to be entrusted with knowledge, items, messages or words of wisdom for later generations. 

Added onto this seemingly impossible life span it was well known that humans simply did not accept death. Injuries that would kill many other species were more of an inconvenience to the humans, some looked at the loss of limbs and organs as a challenge to come back from and try again while others used their story as a way to teach and warn future generations of miniature titans. 

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For a species known for being able to dive deep into the psyche of practically any and all species, humans were like forbidden treasure troves of knowledge and wisdom: firsthand experience of historical events, important conversations, debated actions of who did what? and why?

All of this information and more could usually be found in the mind of a human…of course there was only the small matter of GETTING the information.

Human minds were said to be nigh impenetrable to all but the cleverest of infiltrators and even then, it was said once you got in there was no telling what you would, or could find. Human mental defenses were said to range from endless labyrinths that constantly changed their configuration to impossible creatures from the humans’ imagination.

To be invited to meet a human was a great honor, to meet one dying of old age was thought among some to be impossible as many species still believed them immortal. To not only be allowed to enter the human’s mind, but to be invited to do so was almost too incredible to believe.

“You’re Galtakal’s kid aren’t you?” The raspy voice from the bed snapped Galgac out of his mental musings.

Following the voice to its source on the hospital bed Galgac focused on the human, thin hair the color of silver, skin wrinkled and spotted with age unheard of among most species, muscles that at one time could bend Taraxian steel and break Fomotian carapace lay withered and atrophied as mere shadows of their former glory. 

Lines creased the human’s face telling of cycles beyond measure spent smiling and laughing…as well as snarling and frowning…the stories this human’s physical self could tell alone were staggering. The eyes though were what nearly stole Galgac’s breath…blue like a clear warmth cycle with not a cloud in sight, yet still sharp as a mono-molecular blade…age may have robbed this human of his physical might, but even time could not seem to dull the mind of this once legendary creature.

“Y-yes, um yes sir, Galtakal was my sire…how could you know that…sir?” The human laughed quietly to himself before he answered.

“The bio-luminescent spots on your face, they are almost exactly like your fathers’ spots…you carry yourself the same as well…arrogance like none other, well deserved and justifiable no doubt, but still I want to punch you in the face just like the first time I met your father. I miss him you know, he deserved a better death than what he got…self-sacrificing prick left you a message by the way, I imagine you will find it at some point.” Galgac was speechless…this human had known his sire, it sounded like they knew each other personally even. 

Walking forward Galgac reached out to the human and laid his webbed digits within the human’s grip, barely restrained strength still coursing through the powerful muscles and bones even in his advanced age. With a feeling not unlike having his brain liquified and then vacuumed through a long tube Galgac slid his awareness down his arm and into the human before him. 

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Galgac found himself on a battlefield on a planet he had never been to, human atmospheric air fighters...jets they called them...screamed overhead with the battle cries of war maddened harbingers of an apocalypse.

Bullets split the air with sonic booms and whizzed like furious insects while lasers and bolts of superheated plasma melted armor...bombs went off far away, no...closer...to close!

Galgac found himself picked up by an ethereal giant and slammed down on his back, surely such an impact just broke his entire back plate and probably a few organs were going to be bleeding...no, he was getting back up...how was he getting back u-

*OOF!*

Suddenly a body slammed into him just before a searing line of plasma wrent the air where his head had been seconds before. 

Looking towards the figure that had just slammed him back into the ground, and saved his life in no uncertain terms, Galgac was shocked…

“Father?” The face looking at him was much younger, but it was unmistakably the face of his sire. 

“Are you injured human? Can you still fight?” Galgac nearly lost the connection to the humans’ mind with the flood of emotions that came with that question. 

A figure blocked the unknown planet’s sun, a long blade raised to strike the both of them in a single blow. With unfamiliar muscles and reactions that superseded conscious thought Galgac wrapped his father with arms that felt as though they could crush the seemingly fragile body within their grasp to a pulp and rolled to the side until he was looking down upon his father from a reversed position of their previous one. 

Adrenalin surged, muscles tensed, nerves fired like atomic engines and Galgac felt his new and unfamiliar body sing with a power he had never known...he wanted to run, he wanted to mate, he wanted to fight, oh how he wanted to fight, to strike down the enemy and scream his power to the skies of this alien world in defiance of all attempts to defeat him.

Surging to his feet and drawing the combat vibra-blade from his shoulder sheath Galgac spun to engage the enemy, only for the visage of the human from the hospital bed to appear, grab him by the throat and lift him up and out of his new body. 

“Sorry about that, Galtakal told me that might happen but I didn’t really think about it until a few seconds ago...I guess the thoughts of your father got me thinking about the first time we met. He saved my life you know, I saved his in return a few seconds later but that was irrelevant…”

Galgac tried to focus on what was his and what was memory, the feeling of being human for just those few seconds was intoxicating.

The power contained in the limbs, seeing the world in spectrums of color and depth so vastly different than his own, senses all on fire from the bloodlust of battle sending him so much information about his surroundings. He was amazed the humans could possibly process it all...and there, in front of him he saw the human whose mind he was now intruding upon, watching his past self and Galgac’s sire fight side by side.

Like two dancers they spun around each other...no... the human ducked and wove like a zephyr of cutting wind around his sire, slicing with his blade and drawing blood with every strike while his sire would spin in place from one target to the next, expertly placing blaster rounds through vital points. 

Seeing his sire like this was...jarring to say the least, for so long he had known him as a peace loving and quiet individual. Seeing one of his progenitors as a whirling dervish of war and death seemingly moving in time with a human was...well he would have to explore those thoughts later, for now he had years of memories to view. 

“Come on lad, let me show you around a bit.” Hearing the voice of the human whose mind he was intruding upon just before a powerful hand fell upon his shoulder gave him just enough time to brace himself. The world around them seemed to blur and melt into a confusing wash of colors before seeming to solidify into a new scene, thankfully less chaotic. 

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Looking around, Galgac realized he was on a ship...by the markings upon the bulkheads it was... yes, the UGF Predatory Might, the first ship designed by humans and built by the Unified Galactic Federation.

Seeing the human begin walking down the hall Galgac followed him and did his best to pay attention to everything at once, this was a ship not often seen by non-humans and even then, it was only really sent for one of two reasons...War and Relief.

This ship alone contained enough armaments to send most smaller celestial bodies spinning into a star while also boasting one of the most advanced medical facilities in the known universe. Walking along the hallways of the ship Galgac could only marvel at what he saw, humans walking to and fro with some running and dodging around their counterparts with grace unseen in most species and others casually reading various reports and updates on tablets while simultaneously avoiding collision with those around them. 

“Ya know I never did figure out how they did that...just dodge around everyone without looking up from reading and still be able to comprehend what they were looking at.” Spinning to look at the human, Galgac felt his luminescent markings begin to glow brighter...this human was not JUST a human as he had been led to believe...this was…

“B-b-battle Master Alventar…” This was one of the most highly decorated humans in recent history, he had personally led more successful war efforts than any other human on record and who had planned an almost incalculable amount of side missions, some of which wouldn’t be released for at least a century AFTER his death. 

“Yes yes...that was one of my titles, did they not tell you who I used to be? Ah well, no matter, come let me show you why we are here.” With an easy smile and almost eager stride the Battle Master continued on down the hall. Following quickly Galgac whipped his head around enough that if he was in a physical body his neck would be getting sore. “Here it is lad…” Battle Master Alventar said ahead of him as he slid through a door and then looked through a window, his voice was oddly low and almost reverently anticipatory. Catching up to the human Galgac gazed at him and noted the strange look upon his face.

A small smile graced the human’s face, coupled with the simple light of joy in his eyes seemed to shed decades from his visage.

Seeing him pressed up against the glass like a child caused Galgac to gaze in slight wonder...this human was one of the most brilliant battle minds of the known galaxy, he had seen more battle than most battalions and had been in command longer than Galgac had been alive, what could possibly be beyond that glass to make him act this way?

Turning from the Battle Master, Galgac gazed through the glass and was slightly taken aback...he actually had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, one of the figures within the room was a much younger version of the human standing next to him. 

Standing within the room was a mid-thirties Alventar standing next to a rather large woman, her stomach vastly bloated out, disproportionate to what the rest of her body would suggest would be normal. She should have looked like a slim, mocha skinned, dark-haired goddess of a woman but instead she was a rather large, round, goddess of a woman. Skin flushed with exertion and gleaming with sweat the young woman’s face was screwed tight with pain, breaths coming in short pants and gasps.

“What um...what am I looking at Battle Master...why are we here?” Galgac asked softly. 

“This is one of the most momentous days of my life… I tell you now lad, I have seen stars collapse and die, I have seen battlefields strewn with bodies uncounted and I have witnessed entire planets and civilizations reduced to dust but right here...this moment...this is when I witnessed the greatest miracle to grace this universe…the act of bringing LIFE into the world…” The look on the Battle Master’s face was one of tearful joy beyond anything Galgac could relate to. 

Feeling the psychic resonance between them Galgac was soon swept up in a wash of golden joy beyond anything he could have ever conceived. The feeling that flooded his entire mental being was enough to bring him to tears at the simple and expansive joy of it, vitality and warmth flooded down his limbs and seemed to invigorate his muscles and nerves until they were singing like a solar storm. 

“She’s here...my Star Queen…” The Battle Master spoke in a low voice usually reserved for quiet temples and altars. With a voice like he was invoking an ancient goddess’s name the Battle Master pressed himself harder against the glass and continued to speak.

“She was always the best thing I had ever done, my greatest accomplishment and most beautiful achievement…” Galgac reluctantly shook himself of the golden feelings and gazed within the room, there laying on the bed was the dark-haired woman holding a small bundle of blankets to her chest. 

Looking closer Galgac could see the small figure of a human baby swaddled in the blanket, it seemed to be rather upset at its current situation as it was apparently crying.

“I am afraid I do not understand...it is merely a child, there are many of them and they all seem to look like that when they are born…” In later years Galgac would learn how close he came to getting a royal ass whooping right then and that the look on the Battle Master’s face was not one of deep confusion but rather murderous incredulity.

“I have left entire continents barren and choked with death, I have orchestrated missions that toppled governments and overthrew tyrants across more star systems than I can remember but right there, in that room is the first woman to see me for more than the battle scars and nightmares. In her arms is the first time I have ever been associated with life...she is my greatest achievement because she is the result of a true partnership, a battle pair, life mates and soul bonds. That little girl in there has the beauty, strength, mind and absolute power of her mother….and I guess my eyes along with some other stuff…”

Looking into the room once more Glagac observed the interactions of the mother and child, how when the Battle Master was introduced he seemed to show a level of care and gentleness not usually seen in his species of near immortal battle fanatics. 

Watching the three of them, two elders and a newborn, Galgac saw how they instinctively covered the babe with their bodies from threats unknown, how they both glared at any medical professional that dared approach them even if for no more than a heartbeat. 

These were new parents and they would scorch all of creation if it meant their child was safe. The Golden sense of unparalleled joy was soon suffusing him as he opened himself to the psychic resonance again, except this time it was tempered and sheathed in a layer of Steel resolve. Galgac found himself almost overwhelmed at the sheer power behind these two humans’ determination that nothing would harm the child they brought into this world. 

The feeling of a hand landing solidly upon his shoulder caused Galgac to jump slightly. Whipping his head to the side he saw the Battle Master looking at him with an expression of profound sadness somehow mixed with un-ending joy. 

“Time to go lad...There is no way for me to ever repay you for this gift. You have allowed me to witness the birth of my firstborn once more, the birth of the Brightest Star in my Skies and it is something I never thought I would ever be able to experience again outside of my hazy memories.” Turning away from Galgac the Battle Master made his way to the infirmary door that opened onto a completely different world. 

“Well? You wanted to see my memories right?” Shaking himself of the lingering golden affects that the birth of his daughter caused, Galgac hurried to the new door and the memory that lay beyond.

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Walking out of another memory Galgac was giving a new definition to the term disoriented, his head was spinning from the sheer amount of LIFE this single human had experienced. In the last few heartbeats Galgac had experienced events and conversations that could topple at least two governments and probably allow him to black mail an entire planet and that was before the sheer amount of training and battle this man had seen.

“I...I had no idea…” Words did not easily surface in the hurricane of his mind after seeing what he had just witnessed. 

“I know right? Who would have thought your old man was such a badass! I still have no idea where he got a donkey, a ladder, three cases of genuine earth tequila and five pounds of C-4...but that had to be the best bachelor party Calament IV has ever seen.” Finishing this statement with a hearty laugh and missing Galgac’s response that he could have told the man how much of a badass his dad was, the two of them looked around at their newest setting.

Cheers and applause assaulted Galgac’s auditory receptors like a rogue wave upon a beach. Lights flashed and a sun much harsher than his world’s own glared at him from above. A gentle breeze was the only respite Galgac received from the sudden change in settings, this was one of the things he hated the most about going through another being’s memories: having to experience their life through what they remembered. The day could have been ten degrees cooler and the wind even stronger but if the human didn't remember it that way then Galgac sure wasn’t going to experience it that way. 

“Ughh...I was really hoping to never have to relive this day, I guess it makes sense to go from some of the best days of my life to one of the worst…still sucks though.” Galgac looked to his side after he acclimated to the harsh environment and was shocked once more. 

Standing beside him was the Battle Master, but much diminished from his previous gravitas.

Mid to late twenties at best, he almost looked like a child playing dress up. Fresh faced and with coal black hair he stood there in his dress uniform, creases on his pants crisp enough to slice fruit, shirt fitted perfectly and starched to within an inch of its life. He looked every inch the perfect young military tactician...except the eyes. The usually deep pools of light blue were now frozen over and shallow, the sight sent a shiver down Galgac’s short spine. 

“This was the day...the day I received the most painful reminder of my actions, the day that started my worst nightmares.” In a moment of dissonance he had not experienced before Galgac watched as the Battle Master seemed to step out of himself.

With one vision walking forward to the call of his name and the other standing there as solid as a Column of Reality Galgac watched as the Head of the United Galactic Federation gave a short speech and proceeded to pin a shining medal to the Battle Master’s chest. 

“Yes...a medal and speech about peace after one of the greatest instances of near xenocide in my species history. I was to be lauded and seen as a hero of war after making the final decision to nearly annihilate an entire race.”

The only warning Galgac had that something was going to change was the cold feeling of despair sliding through his veins like mercury right before the sunny day and gentle breeze blurred, running like water colors before Galgac’s eyes until he was standing upon the command deck of the UGF Last Resort, the most powerful warship in history. 

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“I ask you again Emperor, surrender for the sake of your future, for the sake of your planet and people!”

Captain Alventar pleaded across the vid screen to the enemy ruler. Pouring every ounce of desperation and desire for a peaceful outcome he could into his voice the captain leant over his console. Around him were men and women years into their fields of study and profession and all of them remained still over their stations as they awaited the final word from their Commanding Officer. The air was thick with tension and not a single member of the bridge crew dared even breathe too loudly as they awaited the reply from the Alanshel Emperor. 

“We will never surrender human.” The voice came over the translator in a vile hiss of contempt.

“The Alanshel empire will take our rightful place as rulers of this galaxy and we will subjugate all those that resist us!” It was only by the feeling of frustrated embers squirming across his skin like writhing eels that told Galgac what Captain Alventar was truly thinking, even more so when the embers cooled and became like shards of metal slowly sinking down to drive themselves into his very bones.

“I was afraid you would say that...Just remember that you brought this upon yourself...and may your Gods visit mercy upon your decision, for we will show none.” Galgac watched as the young captain stood up from his command console and seemed to simultaneously collapse and grow in presence. 

Squaring his shoulders and straightening his spine with a sharp inhale the Battle Master stood there with his eyes closed as if steeling himself. With smooth, almost dreamlike movements the newly born Battle Master reached forward and flipped the cover off a deceptively small but violently red button. 

“Let the record show all attempts were made to reach a peaceful solution...and all attempts failed...By the power and responsibility invested in my position as Captain of the UGF Last Resort and Leader of the Battle Fleet Armada, I am hereby calling a fleet wide orbital bombardment...all ships fire at will.”

That was all it took, pressing a small red button and the world seemed to turn in on itself for Galgac. The entire ship rocked and shuddered as its most powerful munitions were unleashed upon the world below. Across the view screens similar scenes played out from different angles...battle cruisers and warships ejecting massive payloads of death upon the planet below them. 

Galgac watched in awe as the planet lit up like small suns were suddenly birthed upon its surface. Looking around the Control Center he noticed almost everyone had either looked away or closed their eyes not wanting to witness the destruction being wrought beneath them...but not the Captain, not the Battle Master. 

Standing there in front of the poly-carbide windows of the Control Center the Captain stood with his arms clasped behind his back, shoulders rigid and legs straight...he would not watch what he had done on a screen when he could witness it firsthand. Galgac approached the Captain, the young Battle Master, and was shocked at what he saw...tears.

Tears were streaming silently down the Captain’s face as he looked down on the world he had just condemned to fire. His breathing was slow and steady, face seemingly carved in stone, shoulders and back locked in place as if he would defy the very laws of the universe to bend him from his stance. Yet his collar began to show signs of the tears soaking it and small plops rang like bells in the near silence as they fell to the floor. 

It was in that moment Galgac felt he began to understand, the decision to burn the world below him had elevated The Captain to his position of Battle Master and in doing so had carved irreparable scars into his soul. With every tear that fell from the Battle Master’s eye, with every new blast that lit up the world beneath them Galgac felt a new wound upon his very soul, a new scar freshly made. 

“Two billion, seven hundred and forty-three million dead in the first ten minutes of the barrage...by the calculations.” The voice that came from behind him was supposed to be the Battle Master, but it was hollow and dead as a tree left to die of disease. Turning away from the broken face of the newly minted Battle Master and ignoring the roiling flames and embers of the planet below them Galgac looked to the human whose mind he was currently walking through. Eyes like chips of ice, face hewn of stone and stance like a mountain enduring a hurricane, the True Battle Master stood there, tears streaming from his eyes as he looked down at the planet. The feeling that radiated from this pillar of strength was that of a human forged in battle, a cold breeze from Galgac’s homeworld at the turning of the seasons, soothingly cold and bracing but with the slightest change and without warning it could become sharp enough to slice to the bone.

“We will never know exactly how many died in the attack...never know how many were condemned to death by my actions, my failure to negotiate peace. I have been told by the best shrinks, negotiation experts, politicians, therapists etc etc that there was nothing I could have done. I have seen the reports, the statistical analysis and every piece of data we could possibly have of the war before, during and after this moment...it doesn’t help. I can hear them you know…” At this point Galgac thought he might be able to hear ‘them’...whoever ‘They’ were. 

“I can hear them in my dreams...in my moments of weakness. I can hear the screams and cries of those that are burning down there right now. I can hear the ones that were on the edge and that survived the initial blasts. I can hear the ones that looked up to the skies that day and screamed as they gazed upon judgment being passed upon them. I was Judge, Jury and Executioner that day and I have never been able to tell myself otherwise.” 

It was probably a trick of the memory but Galgac was certain the fires of the planet burned brighter and fiercer in the eyes of the True Battle Master for just an instant. The feeling of a turning season’s breeze faded only to be replaced by the feeling of a crushing weight placed upon him, as if chains forged in the fires of a dying planet were wrapping themselves around him.

Galgac was about to ask a question on what he was talking about when he felt a shift ...it was subtle but in no way insignificant. There was a weight behind this shift in the memory that defied the understanding of a mere mortal. Looking around himself Galgac noticed that things were becoming...wrong. 

Corners had too many angles...distances were infinitely far away and yet too close to comprehend. Walls were suddenly as solid as time and yet as fluid as thought, gravity became nothing more than a concept as he slammed to the deck of the Command Center with all the power of a star falling from the heavens and yet landing like a feather. 

“What...what is happening!?” Galgac asked as he picked himself up from the floor.  Looking over to the Battle Master he was surprised to see a look of curious anticipation upon his face. 

“Have you ever done this memory walk thing with someone who was dying? Ever heard of anyone who had?” The Battle Master asked with a sense of calm that seemed to spread to the surroundings.

The world seemed to solidify around them and once more Galgac was looking at nothing more than the memory of the ship’s interior. Looking back to the Battle Master, Galgac saw that he had begun walking down the main corridor towards engineering. Hurrying after the human Galgac cast one last look back to the planet as it burned beneath them under the continued barrage of the Fleet Armada. 

In the time it took Galgac to turn his head back to the front they were passing through the galley, by the time he comprehended this fact they had stepped through the security door to engineering, before Galgac could even begin to think of the reason they had traveled so far, he found himself standing in front of a door covered in a variety of signs denoting hazardous levels of radiation beyond the door.

The air was heated as if they were in a sauna and hummed with barely contained power. Noticing the signs posted around them and seeing the various gauges on display Galgac realized they were next to the main reactor. 

“The heart of the ship…” The voice from the Battle Master was almost reverent as he gazed at the door to the reactor chamber.

Walking as if in a dream the Battle Master stepped forward and opened the door before Galgac could stop him. Now Galgac had never been inside a reactor chamber but he was pretty sure it didn’t have such a bright light on the other side of the door. 

Seeing the human silhouetted before him in a light so bright it should have hurt his eyes Galgac wanted to look away but found that he couldn’t. This could be some kind of new memory and he had to bear witness to it. A feeling like the very depths of the void between stars slowly began tracing over Galgac’s skin, cold beyond anything he could ever comprehend, tracing lines of dancing non-feeling across his entire being...down to his very soul. 

“No Son, not that is not for you to see.”

A voice he had not thought he would ever hear again sounded in his ear just before a hand on his shoulder spun him around. Feeling himself wrapped in arms as familiar as they were comforting Galgac found he couldn’t speak past the raw feelings he was being bombarded with. Desperate yearning for something he had never had or experienced, a deep and ever-growing abyss of loneliness that promised to be relieved just beyond that light. Cold beyond anything he could ever understand battled with a warmth he could never forget while crushing solitude warred against familial companionship. “Father…”

The word was barely able to choke itself past the feelings he was trying to make sense of, Galgac drew upon the second-hand memory of a human’s power and will in order to wrap his own arms around the figure before him.

The form was smaller than he remembered, or he was bigger...regardless it was no less powerful than his last memory of it. He had always marveled at his father’s presence, the strength in his figure and weight of his gaze...now he knew, he understood what it was. His father had walked through the fires of a human’s mind and life and come out stronger for it and now it was his turn. 

“Easy boy...I knew you would find yourself here one day, unfortunately this is all I can do for you. You mustn't look lad, that is not something for you to gaze upon.” The voice of his father was enough to bring tears of painful loss and joyous memory to Galgac’s eyes. 

“What is it father, what is that light?” Galgac buried his face in his father’s broad shoulder in the same way he had as a youngling when he had accidentally viewed someone's mind and been scared of what he saw. 

“It is the fire at the beginning and end of time, the edge of eternity and beginning of nothing...it is everyone's final destination.” Feeling his father raise his own head and hearing him speak again Galgac could tell he wasn’t the one his father was speaking to. 

“Go ahead John, I’ll see you on the other side. I saved you a seat and a glass of whiskey just like you asked.” 

“Thanks Gal, I’ll be seeing you soon...you got a good kid there you know.” It was probably just the strange feelings he was enduring but Galgac could almost swear he heard tears in the Battle Master’s voice. 

“Yeah I know...he is pretty awesome, just like I told you all those times. As for you Son, it’s time for you to leave.” And indeed it seemed as if that would be the best plan of action as the world around him seemed to become less and less real with every failing heartbeat that now rang throughout the mental construct. 

“Tell your mother I miss her and that there are so many goddesses in the afterlife I may have to lower my standards for one of them.”

Galgac gave a choked laugh at the stupid joke his parents always seemed to have...how his father could never bring himself to betray his mother because even if a goddess descended before him, she could never hope to live up to his mother’s beauty and sharp wit. 

“HA...hehe…she is going to kick your teeth in when she catches up to you, you know that right.” He didn’t care that he was talking to a mental construct of a father that had died months ago...short by human standards but long enough to dull the pain for many other species. 

“Yeah I know...well she has to catch me first. Farewell Son, it was good seeing you again.”

With those final words Galgac found himself surrounded by a crushing black void and the overwhelming sense of something staring at him. Something older than even humans could comprehend, something that was interested in him only as a future project or a topic to come back to in a casual conversation. Trying desperately to remember how to release himself from another’s mind, Galgac was just about to panic when he felt as much as heard a voice that would speak to him in his dreams and nightmares for years to come. 

‘Not yet...’

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With a jerking start Galgac’s eyes snapped open and it was only after a few seconds that he could understand what he was seeing.

An off-white ceiling, meaning he was probably on his back...the soft cushion beneath him confirmed his current position. Turning his head Galgac realized the ringing in his ears was not in his head but rather the life signs indicator attached to the Battle Master.

“Do not bother…” The voice seemed to come from a great distance.

“The Battle Master has passed from this life and is enjoying his final peace.”

Oh...that was his voice...yes it was...closing his eyes Galgac began the process of reacquainting his mind with his physical body. A body he had been born with but had spent less than his full life-span within, a body that had tasted the power, ferocity and sheer depth of a human’s mind. Doing his best to ignore the sounds of the doctors trying to revive the great man one bed over Galgac forcibly relaxed into the cushion and did his best to bring order to his mind and body...and to come to peace with seeing his father one last time.

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The Funeral for John Alventar, Battle Master, Peace Bringer, Black Operator...husband...father...beloved...was a thing of beauty beyond what most species would understand, but Galgac now could. 

With his newfound understanding of how deep and powerfully a human could feel Galgac felt himself straining under the weight of the proceedings around him. An almost inconceivable amount of children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren approached to console him, as if he was the one losing a family member. 

Representatives from the remaining Alenshal empire arrived along with ones from the Kalasha Shoal, Melenkal Coalition, Sardashian Republic and half a dozen other smaller groups. Entombed upon his final command ship, in a cask of demi-steel the Battle Master gently cruised towards his final destination. 

The Black Hole known as Charybdis...an ever-consuming horizon of unknown danger and glory, what better final resting place for one as mighty as the human that had done so much in his lifetime.

Gazing out at the endless void and pinprick points of light Galgac nearly felt himself begin to slip back into the memories of John ‘Battle Master’ Alventar.

Over there was the main star of the system that birthed the Kalasha Shoal, thirty degrees up and seven to port was the home system of the Sardashian Republic...he was pretty sure he had grandchildren there, no...the Battle Master had grandchildren there, not him, not Galgac who had barely seen a handful of human cycles. 

Giving himself a quick shake Galgac focused on the here and now, what could he hear and what could he see. With a disturbingly human pricking of his ears Galgac zeroed in on a conversation between the representatives from the Melenkal Coalition and the Sardashian Rep.

“Admit it, the only reason you are here is to make sure the old monster under your sleeping pad is truly dead.” The voice of the Melenkal Coalition was like gravel being tumbled in a metal tube.

“Saaaahh…this is true, I wish to make sure the Harbinger is truly gone as it would not be the first time he has falsified his demise.”

Contrary to the Melenkal representative the Sardashian’s voice was a musical mixture of chirps and whistles that translated to a rather pleasant songlike voice. It would be a few rotations before Galgac realized it but at the time he was not using his universal translator and was in fact simply understanding the words and sounds being spoken…much like a human would. 

Looking out over the vast star field that was to bear witness to the Battle Master’s final journey, Galgac casually took note of the wide variety of vessels that had shown up in the last few hours. Flagships and attending lesser vessels lit up the surrounding area with active sensor sweeps as they maintained acceptable distances from each other. 

Blocky and stout Melenkal Destroyers surrounded the long and lithe winged shapes of the Sardashian Rep. Weapons had been physically safed and disabled according to galactic funerary laws but the tension was still enough to be felt across the void. There may have been decent relations between the attending parties, but old grudges still reared their heads every now and then.

‘Ha…’old grudges’...none of these individuals have a grudge older than the Batt...than John’s youngest great- granddaughter…’Galgac just smiled bitterly to himself as he thought this.

Realizing why it was considered a double-edged honor to enter a human’s mind among his people Galgac did his best to remember who he was among the still fresh torrent of foreign memories. He thought he knew what it was to feel anger, but now he realized he had barely felt a candle’s heat when compared to the raging inferno of a human’s wrath. Sorrow was nothing new to him, but the crushing weight and dragging doubt that humans could endure showed him that he had not even begun to understand what loss and pain meant. Galgac had known happiness in his life, but he had never known the glowing golden light of a humans’ joy, the effervescent feeling of happiness pure and light that always seemed to make things a little easier. 

It was with a depth of sorrow he had never felt before, and a greater understanding of the feeling itself, that Galgac watched the great vessel that carried the Battle Master cruise gently forward until it reached the event horizon of Charybdis. Watching the mighty starship be slowly pulled into the depths of the singularity and disintegrate the further in it went, Galgac felt now would be a good time to enact the Battle Master’s final wish.

Unseen to any others in the room Galgac pulled out a small remote and pressed a button.

With a flicker the various view screens around the observation deck switched over to a picture of the Battle Master. To say the occupants of the room were startled at seeing their honored nemesis glaring down at them when he should be well on his way down the throat of a black hole was an understatement. 

“Hello everyone.” The voice of the Battle Master rang out over the station’s observation deck.

“By now you probably think I’m dead and well on my way to my final resting place...and I very well might be, but as you will never see my body, I want you to ask yourselves ‘Is it worth it to try and undo what he did?’...of course this might just be a pre-recorded message, but in case it isn’t let me give you one last piece of advice: let someone else figure it out first.”

Galgac had to draw on a few memories from the late John ‘Battle Master’ Alventar to make sure his laughter at the faces of horror that now surrounded him looked more like the shaking of sorrow and tears. Only a human would do something like this, strike one last bolt of terror into those that were so eager to see him dead. 

Walking off the observation deck as unobtrusively as possible Galgac allowed himself to smile at the sounds of fearful chaos behind him, a true smile with teeth bared and cheeks pulled back to his ears, with eyes squinted and a laugh ready to bubble from his chest...a very human smile.  

[centrally-unplanned]

Very much enjoyed Tracing Woodgrain's foray into the internet life of jilted ex-rationalist and Wikipedia editor David Gerard. It is of course "on brand" for me - the social history of the internet, as a place of communities and individual lives lived, is one of my own passion projects, and this slots neatly into that domain in more ways than one. At the object-level it is of course about one such specific community & person; but more broadly it is an entry into the "death of the internet-as-alternate-reality" genre; the 1990's & 2000's internet as a place separate from and perhaps superior to the analog world, that died away in the face of the internet's normalization and the cruel hand of the real.

Here that broad story is made specific; early Wikipedia very much was "better than the real", the ethos of the early rationalist community did seem to a lot of people like "Yeah, this is a new way of thinking! We are gonna become better people this way!" - and it wasn't total bullshit, logical fallacies are real enough. And the decline is equally specific: the Rationalist project was never going to Escape Politics because it was composed of human beings, Wikipedia was low-hanging fruit that became a job of grubby maintenance, the suicide of hackivist Aaron Swartz was a wake-up call that the internet was not, in any way, exempt from the reach of the powers-that-be. TW's allusion to Gamergate was particularly amusing for me, as while it wasn't prominent in Gerard's life it was truly the death knell for the illusion of the internet as a unified culture.

But anyway, the meat of the essay is also just extremely amusing; someone spending over a decade on a hate crusade using rules-lawyering spoiling tactics for the most petty stakes (unflattering wikipedia articles & other press). The internet is built by weirdos, and that is going to be a mixed bag! It is beautiful to see someone's soul laid bare like this.

It can be tempting to get involved in the object-level topics - how important was Lesswrong in the growth of Neoreaction, one of the topics of Gerard's fixations? It was certainly, obviously not born there, never had any numbers on the site, and soon left it to grow elsewhere. But on the flip side, for a few crucial years Lesswrong was one of the biggest sites that hosted any level of discussion around it, and exposed other people to it as a concept. This is common for user-generated content platforms; they aggregate people who find commonalities and then splinter off. Lesswrong's vaunted "politics is the mindkiller" masked a strong aversion to a lot of what would become left social justice, and it was a place for those people to meet. I don't think neoreaction deserves any mention on Lesswrong's wikipedia page, beyond maybe a footnote. But Lesswrong deserves a place on Neoreaction's wikipedia page. There are very interesting arguments to explore here.

You must, however, ignore that temptation, because Gerard explored fucking none of that. No curiosity, no context, just endless appeals to "Reliable Source!" and other wikipedia rules to freeze the wikipedia entries into maximally unflattering shapes. Any individual edit is perhaps defensible; in their totality they are damning. My "favourite" is that on the Slate Star Codex wikipedia page, he inserted and fought a half-dozen times to include a link to an academic publication Scott Alexander wrote, that no one ever read and was never discussed on SSC beyond a passing mention, solely because it had his real name on it. He was just doxxing him because he knew it would piss Scott off, and anyone pointing that out was told "Springer Press is RS, read the rules please :)". It is levels of petty I can't imagine motivating me for a decade, it is honestly impressive!

He was eventually banned from editing the page as some other just-as-senior wikipedia editor finally noticed and realized, no, the guy who openly calls Scott a neo-nazi is not an "unbiased source" for editing this page wtf is wrong with you all. I think you could come away from this article thinking Wikipedia is ~broken~ or w/e, but you shouldn't - how hard Gerard had to work to do something as small as he did is a testament to the strength of the platform. No one thinks it is perfect of course, but nothing ever will be - and in particular getting motivated contributors now that the sex appeal has faded is a very hard problem. The best solution sometimes is just noticing the abusers over time.

Though wikipedia should loosen up its sourcing standards a bit. I get why it is the way it is, but still, come on.

[rungssparemodelpieces]

Dating the Lost Light crew

Megatron

* It takes a lot of convincing to get Megatron to date you, throwing every excuse he could to convince you, or rather himself, that he wasn’t even close to the best option and yet you persisted and he had to give you that, finally relenting though not without some hesitations. To date him posed a lot of risks, not only to your safety as an ex-warlord has many, MANY enemies, but your standing in society and friends, and you were willing to risk it all for him? He felt like he didn’t deserve this, like he didn’t deserve you, but maybe this was just another step on his road to redemption, to feel loved and feel worthy of it.

* Megatron and you have planned out our relationship as to not alert anyone on the Light Lost or anywhere else. Professional during the day but in the berth behind closed doors, you could be as loving towards him as you’d like. Though the arrangement made him feel better about keeping you safe, there were some downsides to the arrangement. For you, it was the want to be affectionate; to hold his hand, kiss him helm, to tell him you loved him, and you couldn’t do that outside of the berth. For him, he couldn’t stay by your side when out, which caused some bots to see you as available and wouldn’t take no for an answer. If he stepped in, Megatron’s actions could be seen as suspicious but for the most part, you’ve been able to get your way out of those situations by either sneaking away or getting Magnus involved. Megatron might have alerted him to the inappropriate behavior though

* Speaking of affection, Megatron isn’t the most affectionate bot in general. In fact, you could say he was opposed to it but it’s more complicated than that. During the war, he was more focused on his cause and efforts towards total victory than his own personal needs but never received it as much either. Frag, he’s even admitted he’d never been hugged before! He’s slow with showing affection but you have a lot of patience and love to give him which he appreciates. It starts simply with grazes of his servos, hand holding, and helm presses with most initiated by you but over time, he bridges that effort and will return the small gestures in turn.

* If you define his love language, it would be words of affirmation. Megatron uses his words, especially his writing, to convey his emotions to you. Whether it be a simple haiku to tell you how much he loves you or a something more elaborate to describe the little things you did like the way you did on your work, your gaze focused and intense, or what he loves about you such as your kindness and your humor. He’ll share some of these with you but others he’ll keep to himself, especially if their a little more spicy or personal. Perhaps he will when the time is right? On the other hand, you’ve tried to come up with your own poetry in order to flirt with him which started out rather… poorly but Megs is willing to teach you the style and form to help you improve. Some of these sessions though end up becoming endurance rounds for how much you can flirt, tease, and praise him before he ends the session by one means or another…

* Of course some bots had to know like Ravage, given how close he is to Megatron, but others either got suspicious or tried to unravel the depths of your relationship. Rodimus speculated for a long time something was up but couldn’t quite catch you in the act. Rodimus would tell Ultra Magnus something was up but Magnus would bring up a logical explanation for your interactions which was starting to drive Rodimus a little mad.

* Whether the relationship is exposed on purpose or on accident, the shock is not as bad as initially thought though Rodimus will gloat for a long time that he knew from the very beginning and Ultra Magnus does give a short speech regarding policies on dating coworkers but overall, the reception of the news was well taken, albeit with some teasing and jokes made at your expense.

* Being an older bot, you do nag him on taking better care of himself. Millions of years and his previous professions have left some aches and pain in his frame and joints that he keeps delaying taking care of but being together, you make sure Megatron actually does take care of himself or else you force him to due it, either by his or your hand. If you’re an older bot/human, you try to include him to your routines on your own self maintenance and it creates a nice bonding experience for the both of you.

* You’ve perfected the art of mimicking Megatron’s disappointed and frustrated faces though more unintentional than mocking. Being around him as long as you have, you picked up his gestures when he gets upset with his fellow co-captain. If Megs is not on the bridge and needs to convey his disappointment, you take the mantle and let Rodimus know how his co-captain feels. Even when he’s there, Rodimus ends up getting a doubled up look of disapproval.

NSFW

* Megatron does have some experience in the berth though it has been a while since he’s been intimate with someone. He takes it slowly with you, but there are moments where his needs outweigh the pace he set for himself and he just needs a good frag. Just because he’s an old mech doesn’t mean he down and out! He’s rather awkward with aftercare due to his previously mentioned affection issues but he does get better with time, rubbing your back or letting you rest against him while you catch your breath.

* If you are human, he would prefer to use his holoform as to not hurt you while making love. but you can sweet talk him into interfacing all natural. Can be on top or bottom but gets a certain thrill watching you ride him with either you setting the pace or if he needs to take control, can take a hold of your sides and pick up speed along with the snap of his hips, becoming more of a vessel for his spike to fill up completely.

[xiaomainlmao]

Tighnari teaching Cyno a few things about love with your help

Just a random brain rot from last night lol.

The slightly suggestive part is highlighted separately.

----------

When Cyno starts developing a crush, he doesn't really accept it because he wasn't sure of his feelings. Of course he consulted Tighnari first, and of course he received a "you're falling for them idiot" from him after he denied it for the nth time.

But when Cyno finally accepts that he is in love, he consults Tighnari again.

Surely Tighnari could help him with his feelings right? Especially since he has you, and thus has experience in this field

Everything starts nice and easy, with the two of them first discussing how real the light novels are when it comes to relationships

Planning a confession was also not so difficult (executing the plan was a different story though, it took Cyno months to finally go through with it)

Oh boy, forget about organizing dates, Cyno didn't even know how to hold someone's hand without a strictness like he's arresting or protecting them

And that's where you came in.

Tighnari starts with holding your hand and letting Cyno observe how gentle his hold was

If you don't mind it, then Cyno probably tried to hold your hand too, trying not to be too rough

He considered you a friend, plus he was in his "deep-learning" mode, so he didn't get embarrassed around you

Then came how sappy he should be, what phrases he should use and how often he should say things

Tighnari was in control through most of this conversation, but you had to help him neutralize his views because Cyno was a different person and you knew that all of Tighnari's tricks may not work for Cyno

(all of this would be easier if you know who Cyno's crush is, but depending on how you ask him, he would either be a bit too straightforward about his answer or would avoid answering that question for days)

(Cyno gets embarrassed easily and Tighnari loves teasing him)

You guys try teaching him the language of flowers! Just make sure the topic doesn't stray too far away from flowers though... (Tighnari may end up rambling about plants in general, and then start complaining about poisonous mushrooms and how people always mistake fungi for plants)

you both take turns telling Cyno about things he can do, things he can buy and where they can take them

Tighnari even teaches Cyno how he can make bookmarks out of leaves and flowers, because who doesn't love them?

All this ends up being a fun bonding activity for the three of you

When Cyno does go on the date, you both follow him

Is it to determine whether the person he's interested in deserves him or not? Partially

Mostly you, or rather, Tighnari is going to observe how Cyno deals with the date, because he's going reprimand him for any foolish mistakes he makes (Tighnari is a strict teacher in everything lol)

If Cyno's interest ends up being Nilou, then she'll probably notice the two of you behind him.

She might even wave at you when Cyno is not paying attention, a knowing smile on her face

----------

the not-so-sfw part

this part starts when Cyno's crush (now partner) tries getting intimate with him

but Cyno is not experienced at all so he asks you and Tighnari about your first time

Tighnari may end up getting a bit too scientific though by using proper terms and all the risks involving everything

this is also the part where you start feeling like Tighnari may have an exhibition kink

"How do you kiss someone?" Tighnari's answer should have been "just go with it, it may feel awkward at first but you get into it eventually"

but no

he uses you to show Cyno how to initiate kisses

the first one is a simple, innocent one where he gently holds your face and kisses you

and then comes the "if they like it rough, try this", where he pulls into him and kissing you aggressively

"or this one, which is rather popular in light novels", where Tighnari pins you up against the wall

Cyno observes you both closely until Tighnari actually kisses you, that's when he turns away saying "okay I think that's enough for me"

Thank god he turned around

Thank god Cyno did not notice Tighnari's knee because gosh that would've been even more embarrassing than it already is.

Tighnari also shows Cyno how he can hold their waist or just hug them from behind in general

He wraps his hands around your stomach and snuggles close to your neck, making you giggle

Even Cyno thought that was a cute hug

In the next one, Tighnari holds your waist and sways you around. His instructions for this one was for Cyno to imagine he was in a ballroom, dancing to slow music. Just typical romantic stuff

The NEXT one however, was a bit more... intimate

Tighnari pulls you closer by the waist and snuggles into you, his tail effectively covering the hand that was hovering a bit too close to your thighs.

He tells Cyno that this one can be used when his partner is feeling down and wants to feel protected (except, Cyno did not know where Tighnari's hand was, so he thought it was a completely innocent affair)

He ends the session by teasing Cyno about how he should ask him about even more intimate things next time to which Cyno replies "yeah no, I think I get that part. Your recollection of your first experience was enough for me."

Tighnari just laughs, but you notice his eyes. The slight disappointment in them. He wanted to show you off.

You don't know how to ask him but questions start running through your head.

Would he do this in front of everyone? Knowing him, he won't. He'll probably want to do it in front of people he completely trusts

Does he want to share you? Maybe with Cyno, and that's it. Probably not even with Al Haitham or Kaveh.

Would he let someone else do the same things he does to you? No, you don't think so. He'll only let them get so far with you.

While you ponder, you notice Tighnari smiling at you.

He must have realized what you were thinking about, because he just smirks and asks "well, how did you like that?"

----------

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello! You have a problem. You were cursed by a witch to only be able to communicate in second person. This is annoying, but manageable. However, the curse turned out a bit strong, and anyone who tries to talk to you will ALSO only be able to communicate in second person while communicating with you.

You will be honest, you kind of totally deserved the curse. You were rude to the witch on your date and acted VERY self-centered and didn't ask her about herself, very bad etiquette, etcetera. You're honestly fine with just riding the curse out at least for a while longer, it's a good reminder that you aren't perfect and growth is a constant process.

But you're pretty sure that the extra-strength whammy is probably very disconcerting for anyone you're trying to talk to, especially if they're not expecting it, and it's making your job as a call center tech support advisor VERY confusing for everyone involved. And you'd just text the witch to go, hey, you understand that curses are meant to be inconvenient and this is all part of the lesson and whatnot, but you don't think it's fair to strangers who need help with their iPhones, so could you maybe adjust that a bit? But he blocked you on Grindr and you don't know how to get in contact with him elsewise, so you're making a hail mary by trying to call into TNN.

You're pretty sure you don't actually need advice but you'd appreciate it if maybe you could get the word out that if anyone knows a witch in Southpoole with a rocking body, GREAT tongue, bit of a lisp, and mottled brown scales, PLEASE have him contact you about this and also you're sorry--no, sorry, YOU'RE sorry--agh, whatever, you get what you mean.

You can certainly see how- Ah. Yes, you see the problem. You had been somewhat optimistic the curse might not extend to this more removed form of communication, but it seems you were mistaken.

You can certainly get the word out on your platforms – if any of your other followers recognise the individual in question based on that rather… enthusiastic description, please do encourage them to get in touch with the author of this letter at their earliest convenience.

.You say you're willing to ride out the curse until its natural end. That is entirely up to you, of course. However, you would like to note that mild to moderate curses can often be lifted by other practitioners without too much trouble.

If the curse grows overly wearisome or hasn't lifted by itself in, say, two months time, you recommend seeking out a local practitioner and having the curse ended that way. As always, do make sure any practitioner you hire for such work has a proper license, and steer clear of anyone making overblown claims about their abilities.

Finally, while you are generally of the opinion that curses are a rather tasteless way of handling interpersonal conflicts, you must allow, they can be rather effective.

You hope you have learnt your lesson as well as you claim, and that you will be more considerate in the future – or at the very least, save your rudeness for dates who can't call on dark powers to inflict weird suffering upon you in retaliation.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[starwrighter]

Dude, get a restraining order

(Masterpost) (Ao3 link) (Previous) (Next)

(Chappy #4)

The incompetence he bore witness to today rivaled that of which you’d see at an underfunded public school. This is a private school funded to the highest caliber! Damian hadn’t missed the dramatic increase in budget around the time Father enrolled him in the school. He’d been there when the press hounded him about it! The point was, that he knew for a fact that the school had the resources to accommodate a single transfer student!

With how poorly Daniel had been equipped to traverse the halls, one could only question if it were intentional. There was sure to be the inevitable mix-up with a student actually showing up for the transfer program. Usually, all they got was an announcement over the PA that all the potential transfers had not so politely declined the invitation. No rational parent would send their child to Gotham alone unless they were truly desperate, ignorant, or neglectful. 

Nothing could ever excuse what he’d seen today. You don’t hand a half-blind student a schedule with braille so radically different from the actual print by accident. It was a bat burger menu for gods sake! Someone had to have noticed when they handed it to him. In lieu of a recent spike of impairments involving vision and or hearing, every schedule had braille on it! Both sign language and braille had become their own optional after-school courses that upon completion, awarded a more than generous amount of extra credit. One didn’t even have to complete the course, all you had to do was pass multiple fluency tests, and then you were finished.

Most teachers knew either Braille or some form of sign language, and they all damn well would’ve known that the map was outdated! Fifty years outdated, you’d have to be a moron to hand that out by mistake. Though with what he was seeing now, he’s not quite sure the facility wasn’t primarily composed of scrambling idiots.

Mr. Rivers, ever the annoyance, had taken to only approaching Daniel from his blind side. It became more and more infuriating as class ticked by. The teacher shoved his body between the two of them, violating any semblance of personal space for the sole purpose of inconveniencing Daniel. Every time Mr. Rivers encroached on their personal space, Damian sharpened his pencil. Every time he made the other boy flinch, the idea of launching the pencil like one of his throwing knives became more and more appealing. No harm would’ve come to the teacher, the sight of a wooden pencil embedding itself in the wall mere inches away from his left eye would be more than enough to frighten the man. 

He’d face detention or possibly even suspension, but he’d take the punishment with pride. A smirk played on his lips as he tapped his pencil against his desk.

His smirk soon shifted into a scowl as yet another work packet was piled onto his desk. It was irritating, everything about this class was irritating. Daniel let out a dramatic groan beside him, the other boy slumping back in his chair. Worksheets were piled high on the boy's desk, some completed while most remained unfinished.

A ruler snapped down onto Daniel’s desk, a loud thwack! Startling the boy into sitting up straight.

“I guess I deserved that one,” Daniel shrugged.

“No you didn’t,” Damian replied flatly, but Daniel just shrugged it off. Most of the school facility were what most Gothamites would consider normal. Mr. River just had a generally detestable personality.

The man hated teenagers, often spewing complaints of their “rowdy behavior” and “lack of dedication,”. Damian might’ve agreed with those statements if it weren’t for the blatant lies in every word the man said. His classmates were…noisy and rather unpleasant for him to mingle with, but they were far from the “Lazy entitled brats” Mr. Rivers had painted them as. It’d be hypocritical for him of all people to judge the teacher based on being “mean” but the two of them couldn’t be farther apart.

 Damian was a hostile presence in the classroom, but he didn’t go out of his way to target and harass people for things they couldn’t control. People could choose to stay out of his personal space, and they could choose to not say dumb shit to his face. A mental or physical condition wasn’t something they could change, nor were they things that verbal and physical abuse would fix. This should've been common sense to anyone with two brain cells to strike together, but apparently, Darwinism had failed once again.

Mr. Rivers targeted Daniel based on his visual impairment. Every question was targeted at Daniel regardless if his had been raised or not. The man punctuated each sentence with a loud headache-inducing smack to his desk. He always struck on the boy’s blindside, never where he could see the ruler come down. Aside from the occasional flinch, Daniel took the abhorrent behavior in stride.

Concerning… It was one word he could use to describe Daniel's indifference. Completely unbothered, like this was just a typical Monday in class for him. Maybe his previous statement rang true, and he soulfully had experienced worse. That in itself was a concerning statement but made sense considering the context to that worse was engraved on his face. Everything the teacher did just seemed to roll off the other boy’s shoulders like water off a swan's back. A muttered comment of “his school counselor being worse than this teacher ever could be,” only serving to exasperate his concerns.

It was distracting… Every time Daniel gave him a reassuring smile, his heart pounded like hummingbird wings. Blood rushed to his cheeks, warming them like he’d just sat in front of a fireplace. As big of a deal as his siblings made of his apparent social ineptitude, Damian wasn’t an idiot.

How was he supposed to read people if he didn’t understand the emotions that drove their behavior? He’s a vigilante! He couldn’t be walking around uninformed about the basic spectrum of human emotion!

This was obviously what people would call a crush.

Grayson had been the one to attempt explaining crushes and relationships to him. It was a painfully awkward conversation to sit through. His brother spoke of love like a romcom, both cheesy and highly unrealistic. It was by sheer dumb luck Grayson had entered any form of relationship before, and a miracle any of them had lasted more than a week. Anyone with a dash of common sense could tell Grayson’s advice wasn’t a viable source of information. The number of times he’d been pulled aside by someone within earshot of conversation was enough for him to conclude his brother's brain was diluted by hallmark specials and fairytales.

Regardless of his elder brother's delusion, the conversation itself had been unnecessary. Romantic feelings had been explained to him from a very young age. From learning how these emotions could affect one's behavior to understanding not all people felt those feelings, and that was normal too. It was crucial for detective work to recognize the entire range of human emotions. 

Damian didn’t believe in love at first sight. He believed one could feel physical attraction for a person minutes or merely seconds after meeting, but love? How could you love someone you’ve only spent a minute with. Rushing in with that mindset was how you ended up courting someone you’d despise in the end. Outward appearances could tell you plenty about a person, but it wasn’t often you could read out someone’s entire character by reading their shirt. It could happen, but this wasn’t one of those cases.

He hadn’t even had a proper conversation with his seatmate yet. Rushing in at the first sign of attraction was an idiotic way to hurt himself emotionally. He’d need to tread through this carefully, learn more about Daniel, and proceed accordingly with the information he received. 

Glancing up at the clock, he scowled. Students discreetly packed their bags, fidgeting in their seats as they waited for the bell. Nobody liked being in Mr. Rivers's class. He was the type of teacher to pile a month's worth of homework onto any student unfortunate enough to have gotten their work done in a timely matter. Needless to say, Damian found himself with a thick stack of worksheets on his desk every class. Maybe if he were a little less spiteful, he would slack and draw out the original worksheet like everyone else did, but that would imply Mr. Rivers had gotten under his skin. 

Daniel tapped a thick stack of papers on his desk. His name scrawled shakily in graphite on each sheet. Much to his surprise, Daniel had completed every single worksheet their teacher had thrown at him. How he’d managed to do so in such a short amount of time was a mystery, but Damian was delighted nonetheless. 

The boy grinned, pride and a dash of spite written clear on his face. Damian had watched, enraptured at the subtle wilting of Mr.River’s face with every sheet he completed. The teacher had been far too dull to print out random worksheets for Daniel like he had with Damian. No, every single one of those pages was a part of the required curriculum assigned to transfer students. Work required to be graded and submitted no more than a week after submission. 

“Impressive,” Damian commented.

Daniel beamed, foxlike and giddy as he neatened the pile of paper. 

“If all that doesn’t go in the grade book, I’m starting a riot,” Daniel muttered. Damian didn’t doubt him. Tomorrow, Daniel would likely be piled with the same worksheets Damian was stuck with, papers that weren’t graded outside the original worksheet. 

“I’ll join you,” Planning a riot together would be the perfect activity for him to get to know Daniel more. One's true self tended to be clearer in times of war. 

“Hell yeah! Nothing like a less than peaceful protest to bring people together,” Daniel laughed, the bell rang and Daniel’s expression shifted to one of dread.

“I can walk you to your next class if you’d like,” He offered.

"That would be helpful,” A nervous but exasperated smile had wormed it’s way onto Daniel’s face, the other boy subconsciously running a hand through locks of black hair. "I don't think my map would've been all that helpful," He laughed.

Damian inspected their schedules. They shared lunch and a fourth-hour history class, but that was it. Daniel had earth science third hour while he had an art class. A disappointment, but an expected one. 

“Since you don’t have a valid map, I’ll come to pick you up around lunchtime,” He proclaimed as they rounded the corner.

“Sounds good,” With that they parted ways, Daniel giving him a quick wave paired with a smile that made his heart thrum before he stepped into the classroom.

With a sigh, Damian headed down to the first floor. Vibrant paintings and impossibly detailed pencil drawings lined the halls surrounding the art rooms. A giant mural around twelve feet across was the art students' prized project. Massive mountains and towering trees for everyone to see. An outdoor landscape painted with warm colors shifted to the cold colors of city skyscrapers and roads dimly illuminated by street lights. The mural itself took up almost the entire hallway. Not an inch of the remaining space remained bare. Overall, the first floor had more color than all the other floors combined.

Stepping into class, the smell of paint filled his nostrils. Watercolor stained the wooden tables, cracking paint and charcoal smears scattered across the workspace. Conversations from the previous classes were scrawled onto tables. A collaborative drawing between several students having been scribbled over with a conglomerate of charcoal and colored pencils.

The seats were the only part of the table that was mostly bare. Only a few pencil scribbles and scratches. Too many students' uniforms had been stained with dusty patches of charcoal and paint before drawing on the chairs was prohibited, and tarps were placed over them. 

Art was the one class students were mostly left to their own devices. Given full access to the entire range of supplies, with a vague instruction of showing off their progress at the end of class. A giant bookshelf was set up next to a metal wire shelf carrying baskets of various types of paper. The bookshelf was filled to the brim with any and all books art-related. From beginner to expert, sculpting to painting, realism to cartoonism, a book was there to teach you about it. It was against the rules to draw inside any of the books, but post-it notes were stuck to every page of every book. 

Students filtered in like blood slowly oozing from a paper cut. Quiet chatter filled the room, their teacher sitting calmly at his desk. Damian sat with his new sketchbook, staring daggers at the plethora of empty pages. Sounds of cabinets opening and paintbrushes clinking against glass mugs were his background noise. Pencils scratched against paper, soft searching lines filling a blank page, slowly shaping Daniels's features.

From his sharpened canines to the dimples on his cheeks. To the messy way he swept his hair to the side to the light freckles dusted across his face. Drawing Daniel’s scarring proved to be quite difficult. Intricate branches of scar tissue never seemed to look right when he had them on paper, and it frustrated him to no end. When he finally got it right, he could’ve collapsed right there. It was far from the perfection he was aiming for, but he’d have a reference photo by the end of the day to solve that plight. 

This drawing would be more than enough if Daniel turned out to be an… unpleasant individual.

[justagalwhowrites]

The Campaign - A TSATS One Shot

You're doing your part to get out the vote and Joel is doing his part to protect you while you do. AKA Bodyguard!Joel beats the shit out of a Trump voter.

Pairing: Bodyguard!Joel Miller x Movie Star!Female Reader (from The Savage and the Sanctuary)

CW: Joel beating the shit out of a Trump supporter. That's it, that's the fic. Also mentions of the misery that's befallen us since Trump and all the general misogynistic bullshit of this Godforsaken timeline. No use of Y/N.

Length: 1.1k

A/N: Look. I desperately want to beat the shit out of everyone I see wearing a MAGA hat but, unlike (my version of) Joel, I'm not a 6'5" man with years of experience beating the shit out of people so I can't. Wishing exactly what they voted for on every Trump voter there is and then this too because they deserve it. OK ENJOY LOVE YOU!

Joel was about ready to strangle you. 

Why the fuck you’d volunteered to go out and try to get a bunch of fucking college kids to vote was beyond him. Sure, he knew the election was important, but did that really mean you needed to personally go try to talk to as many idiots as possible in an unsecured area? 

He ground his teeth. You were standing on campus, surrounded by a mob of 20-somethings, each with their fucking phone in hand so he couldn’t even tell if someone was holding a goddamn weapon. Anything was safer than this and yet, here you were, doing it anyway. 

“Can I get a selfie?” One girl asked, practically glowing at the sight of you. 

“Of course!” You said and you smiled and put your face next to hers so she could take a photo. “Can I convince you to vote in the upcoming election? We really need voices like yours to be heard loud and clear.” 

“Definitely,” she said. “I already have a plan for getting there!” 

“That’s what we like to hear!” You said. “Just go online, make sure you’re registered and that you know your polling place and the times. Sound good?” 

She didn’t get a chance to respond, a man in a red Trump hat shoving his way through the crowd, pushing a student into and making you stumble. 

“Hey!” Someone in the crowd protested the intrusion but the man ignored him. 

“The hell do you think you’re doin’?” The man got in your face. “We don’t want your coastal elite bullshit getting mixed up in our government!” 

Joel went to intervene but you held a hand out, stopping him. He clenched his jaw but obeyed, standing at the ready in case things got out of hand. 

“I understand,” you said gently. “I’d probably be upset, too, if I were you. But it’s my government, too. I live in Austin, I love it here and part of showing that love is getting involved…” 

“I don’t give a shit,” he stepped closer. “Get the fuck out of here and leave our kids alone, you fucking bitch!” 

He went to shove you and Joel stepped in then, putting himself between you and the fucking Trump guy before he could lay a hand on you. The man’s hands ended up square in Joel’s stomach, bouncing off almost comically. 

The man was shorter than Joel and definitely weaker. He tilted his head back to look Joel in the eye, an unkempt beard growing in on his neck, his eyes narrowed.  

“That was a mistake,” Joel said, his voice dark and deep. 

“Joel,” your hand went to his shoulder but he shrugged you off. Yes, he was here to protect you but your almost callus disregard for your own safety made him want to pull his goddamn hair out and now, here you were, ready to just let this asshole off without any consequences. 

And fuck if this man didn’t deserve some fucking consequences.

“Need to you to apologize to the lady,” Joel said. “And take that fuckin’ hat off before I shove it up your ass.” 

“If you think I’m about to just let her indoctrinate a bunch of kids…” 

The man made the mistake of leaning around Joel, starting to reach in your direction, and Joel’s patience was nearing its end. 

He shoved the man back before he even really thought about it, making him stumble and sending college kids scrambling back. 

“Joel -“ your voice was sharper now, but he ignored you. 

“Step back,” Joel said, his hands clenching into fists. “Last warning.” 

“Fuck you,” the man said, stalking up to Joel again. “And fuck that bitch, too.” 

Joel’s fist caught the man off guard, not even getting the chance to flinch before it connected with his face. 

The man cried out, stumbling and disoriented, but Joel stalked after him, catching him on the chin and sending him sprawling to the ground. 

“Joel!” You yelled, but you seemed far away in that moment.

Instead, Sarah seemed close. He thought about the 2016 election, when Trump won and Sarah was all of 12 years old. She’d just started getting interested in shit like politics, she was excited about a woman running for president and Joel’d had to explain to her why someone would say something like “grab ‘em by the pussy” and have half the fucking country voting for him. 

Things had only gotten worse in the years since. He had to explain Brett fucking Kavanaugh to his daughter, had to watch as fucking Nazis burned torches and marched through the streets with her, had to just sit there as assholes like this man in his red goddamn hat tried to make life worse for her. 

Back when he had her, he had a reason to keep his nose clean and stay out of trouble, even when dealing with assholes like this. That reason was gone now and so Joel did what he’d been wishing he could for the last damn decade. 

The man tried to get up from his place on the ground but Joel didn’t let him, all but diving on him, grabbing him by the collar and holding him there so he could land blow after blow on his face. He clumsily tried to swing at Joel but he didn’t even feel it. When that failed, his hands scrabbled over Joel’s arms, trying to pull himself free. It didn’t work, either.

Hitting the man again and again hurt but it was a strangely satisfying kind of hurt, one that felt just and righteous, like Joel was finally doing something that was worthwhile. He was hurting someone who deserved it, he was protecting you, he was defending a world that would have been better for his daughter. 

“Joel!” You pulled hard enough on his shoulder that he was forced to pay attention. He was panting for breath, his knuckles bloody, the man’s face a mess. He looked back toward you, at your wide eyes in your unsettlingly perfect face. You looked afraid, but not of him. You were afraid for him. “You can’t do this, you can’t just… Joel, you have to stop.” 

He dropped the man to the ground where he lay, moaning, cradling his broken face. Joel ripped the hat off his head and he groaned in pain. 

“Should’ve listened,” he said, before holding up the hat. “I’m keepin’ this. Get fucked.” 

You looped your arm around Joel’s waist, pulling him against your side and he could have sworn he saw the hint of a smile on your face as you led him away.