#and your proud of him

[crazydaymycrazyway]

Cale, talking about how Deruth coddled him back at the Henituse territory: -and then father said he loves me-

Alberu, incredibly sleep deprived from all the paperwork: Pfft-

Cale: .....

Alberu: Oh shit, that wasn't a joke?

Cale: .....

Alberu: Sorry, I forgot we were talking about your father.

Cale: .....

Cale: *gets upto leave*

Alberu: Hey, I told you I'm sorry-

Cale: Hyung, let me borrow your gun for a second.

[muffinlance]

Consider: Post-canon Zuko wakes up in the body of his childhood self, the morning of That War Meeting. Would he still speak against the plans, knowing his fate? What do you think he would do differently the second time around?

"Turned away at the doors, Zuzu?"

"Shut up, Azula," her brother sulked. But sulked weirdly, after staring at her too long and too wide-eyed, not like she'd surprised him but--

But like he hadn't expected her to be there. At all.

He turned away. ...He turned back. "Hey, Lala? Do you think you could help me practice that one set?"

He didn't meet her eyes.

She narrowed hers. "Which set?"

"The one I'm bad at."

She scoffed. Pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against. "That's all of them, Dum-Dum."

He didn't shout or stomp or yell about the nickname. His lips twitched.

"It's okay," he said. "If you're afraid you won't be a better teacher that my instructor..."

It was the most obvious manipulation ever.

Perhaps if he proved an adequate firebending student, she'd work on his courtly survival skills next. Honestly, it was good that not even Uncle Gets-Cousins-Killed had been fool enough to take Zuko into that war meeting. She could only imagine how terribly that could have gone.

"Keep up," she said, and turned her steps towards the training grounds.

He did. There, and during the katas she ran him through.

Azula kept her eyes narrowed.

"Hey," he asked, "do you know how to bend lightning yet?"

As if he could have missed it, if she'd been able to get more than sparks. "I will soon," she said.

"You will," he agreed, and flowed through his next set. The one she'd only just mastered.

Father didn't notice how weird Zuzu was being. Uncle never noticed anything. Zuko ate dinner and asked a servant for seconds and didn't stutter or flinch or lose his appetite when father asked, coolly, what he'd done with his day. Azula's shoulders tensed, because one mention of how she'd squandered her own training time teaching him--

"Azula hogged the training grounds. For hours," Zuzu scowled, exactly like a petulant thirteen year old.

Exactly like he hadn't been acting all day.

By the time Father was looking her way, Azula had her usual smirk in place. "I'm sure there would be room for both of us," she said, "you're not afraid of a little friendly fire, are you, brother?"

Zuko sulked. And ate his seconds, like he was enjoying each bite. There was something in his eyes, like a joke no one else was getting.

---

Father died that night. A heart attack. There were the faintest of burns to either side of the treacherous organ; the royal physician hypothesized that he'd grabbed at his chest, fingers burning hot in his final moments; so hot they'd only exacerbated the problem.

The royal physician would never have been brought any victims of lighting strikes. Those that occurred in the capital did not generally require a doctor in the aftermath.

Zuzu ate a hearty breakfast.

He didn't order seconds. Azula gave him points, at least, for not being tacky.

---

The sages named Iroh as regent.

They named Zuko as Fire Lord.

"No," the tiny Fire Lord in his perfectly miniaturized Fire Lord robes said, sitting at the head of his war council. "We're not doing that. And I'll be reviewing all recent battle plans, as well. What's this I hear about a division of new recruits being deployed to the front?"

He did not mention how he'd heard of the 41st Division. No one asked.

"Prince Iroh, surely--" one of the generals tried to appeal.

The young Fire Lord's regent was looking as startled as the rest of them, for a moment. Then he sipped his tea, and smiled.

"Your Fire Lord is correct, of course. A change in our leadership--a change the other nations may mistakenly view as weakness--will necessitate a change in our strategy."

"Now," said their lord, "what, exactly, is our overall objective in this war?"

War, the new Fire Lord decreed, was not an end unto itself.

---

The new Fire Lord continued to have time, to pretend to be trained by her. Azula watched him. Adjusted her footwork. Did not tolerate, and was not offered, any commentary on who was teaching who.

"What did you do with my brother?" she asked, as they flowed from one set to the next. As her hands, poised to throw fire, just so happened to be pointed his way.

He missed a step. It didn't look like an act.

"I'm, uh. Right here?"

She didn't bother to dignify that.

He didn't bother to look worried about her hands, one movement off from a true attack.

He looked around, then grabbed her sleeve, and tugged her further from any walls that may hide ears. The royal family's private training grounds were wonderfully large, and wonderfully open.

"It's me," he said. "It's still me. Just. More of me? Longer of me?"

She narrowed her eyes. A familiar expression, by this point. "Explain."

"...I found the Avatar," he said. "And this is definitely his fault, but--but I guess it started at a war meeting, when I was thirteen."

Azula listened. It was a very Dum-Dum story.

[remcadll]

Dick is never going to get to have a midlife crisis because Bruce is going through his for him. also because he will not be making it to 40.

[fanaticalthings]

While I do find it funny that henchmen in Gotham probably warn each other about the Red Hood because he's a bat who will actually kill you. I think it would be better if Jason was actually seen as some sort of savior or idol to like 90% of the goons scattered around Gotham. Doesn't matter who they work for, they all know Jason, former crime-lord that took over majority of Gotham's underground in one night.

---

Jason, years after the events of UTRH, now fighting crime alongside the batfam, except every goon he runs into immediately recognizes him, stops fighting, and starts begging.

the first time it happens, Jason assumes they're begging for their lives only to hear them begging for him to return to the crime lord business so they can work for him and not Gotham's current money-stingy, abusive rogues (Black Mask lol)

---

Jason showing up to patrol as backup for Dick in an overrun warehouse full of Two-Face's henchmen and as Jason's about to interfere, one of the men stops dead in their tracks and stares really hard at Jason until:

Goon: Oh my God, boss, is that you?

Jason, pulling out his guns, about to shoot:

Goon: Mr. Hood, sir???

Jason, halfway about to pull the trigger: Wait a min–Jeremy? Oh wow, it's been ages! How's the wife?

Goon (Jeremy): Oh my God it IS you, holy shit where have you BEEN? Me and the guys miss you, man!

Dick, with a knife at his throat: What is happening right now

Jason: Ahh, well, crime-lording just wasn't fitting in on the daily schedule. Tryna turn over a new leaf and all that

Goon (Jeremy): Aw, that's disappointing. We really liked working for you, right guys?

[Chorus of enthusiastic "YEAHS" from the rest of the henchmen (even the one holding Dick at knifepoint)]

Goon (Jeremy): Well, anyways, I can't beat you up knowing you're my old boss! You gave us the best health benefits! We'll just let you take the evidence and leave.

Jason: Aw, thanks guys :)

---

And that's why 95% percent of Jason's missions in Gotham end in success. Not because he's willing to kill people or because rogues are terrified of him, but because 90% of the rogues' henchmen once worked for Jason and fuckin love him lol.

[derpwithit]

Comic inspired by my favorite scene from 5 minutes older (timestuck AU)

[lazylittledragon]

what if i broke all the bones in your legs actually

[conclaveyaoi]

it takes one to know one, irv

[kinou]

cleaning up the old apartment. it gets worse before it gets better

but it does get better

[brumleys-bones]

RIZ ON THE OWLBEARS REAL (NOT CLICKBAIT !!!1!!)

[degenerateshinji]

this scene but if lu guang had upper body strength

[mara-xx]

Can he at least try to be normal for five fucking seconds.

[sugurouge]

── 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞… 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮."

At her satisfied expression, Sylus glances over his shoulder, an amused smirk forming on his lips once he realises her intentions.

“Mhm, seems like someone's proud of their work,” he murmurs. “Capturing all the evidence we left on another. But if you want to keep this view, who am I to deny you?”

His muscles shift as his fingers trace up her thigh and beneath his shirt she is wearing. “Just remember, kitten… this is a privilege only you get to admire.”

artist: @nykur0h

[canisalbus]

Hi, I love your art and made a little witch AU. Hope you don't mind :)

The idea is that Vasco was torn up enough about the injustice of Machete's death and that they never really got a chance to have a happy life together that he was willing to look into… dubious methods

Badabing badaboom Machete's back. They run away together, both because theres nothing left for Machete and to avoid persecution, and spend time together trying to cope with grief, religious trauma and the changing times as their lives are artificially extended

They have a little witch shop :)

(I might make more art later, hope you don't mind if I send it through here)

.

[hinamie]

I could've been a better man, but I'm not

more lmhs megu bc i love him. he is here fr ur lunch money :>

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[carebeardean]

Charles has always left Edwin little notes slipped between the pages of his favorite books, in his science equipment, places he knows Edwin loves. Just silly things—post its that say “hi Edwin :)”. doodles of Edwin with his nose stuck in a book. reminders to stock up on wolfsbane. but.

Then, post canon, Edwin tentatively starts dating people. And it’s ridiculous, because Edwin’s right there, all the time, but Charles..misses him a bit. And his heads a mess, and he can’t sort out what the hell he’s feeling most of the time, and whenever he tries to say any of it out loud it comes out rubbish.

So. He writes down some of the shit he can’t say right, and because he’s a coward, hides them so he doesn’t have to see Edwin’s face when he reads them.

then Edwin starts writing back.

Neat lilac blue little envelopes appear in Charles coat pockets. In his bag. Once, in his shoe? Some nights, Edwin will clear his throat and mention something from a letter, offhand, like they’re just picking up conversation, and Charles can pretend they are. That they always have talked about the basement, the belt, the nameless fear that chokes him every time Edwin walks out the door with someone else on his arm.

Sometimes he can’t. The words get stuck in his throat. Edwin’s not mad, he’s maddeningly, stubbornly kind about it, which is worse.

Some nights they trade. A secret for a secret. Charles learns about the novels Edwin used to hide under his mattress, about all the lonely years before Charles got there. About Simon.

Meanwhile, Edwin is losing his mind, because Charles has accidentally stumbled onto what was a fucking courting ritual in his time. Love letters were something engaged couples treasured for years, kept and reread over and over. (Edwin does. keep them in a special box, will take one out and trace the words, tuck it in his breast pocket for courage).

Edwin would rather have to reattach a limb again than lose Charles trust, all the dark and beautiful things he shares with Edwin only. He knows—knows Charles doesn’t mean to make him fall more in love with him.

[rendevok]

favorite thing ♡

the inspo:

aaaaand some inner dialogue for your viewing pleasure: