#back some version of it but everyone is scarred forever and then so is the world and nothing will ever be the same 😃👍

[revelboo]

This is a sandbox storyline- basically a story starter anyone can play off of. No set Transformers universe here so any partner or partners goes- you want to romance BW Wapinator, IDW Megatron, and TFP Ratchet? Go for it. The premise? Cybertronians trying to find a human who's a compatible match to their sparks and biofields (bit different than my normal stuff, where here, a match needs to be made to be able to bond). Due to how severely endangered their species is, the factions are cooperating even if there still is palpable tension. The agreement is to lure potential matches onto a massive cruise ship where they can interact as their holomatter avatars with their real forms stashed in the hold. Flirting, chatting up, and romancing humans they're drawn to with the intent to reveal their true forms when the cruise stops at its first and only port of call. An isolated island.

If you want to play: no minors in any context, smut is fine, dub-con/forced seduction is okay, but anything beyond that is a nope. Pick whatever characters you want from any TF continuity and carry on the storyline. You can do next/previous like I do and reference this starter if you want, but you don't have to. It's free real estate since it's a very old fic I haven't touched in forever and it probably wasn't getting touched again ever otherwise, so have fun.

Cruise ship concept inspired by Swim Away by themaskismyface on Ao3

Cybertronian Cruiselines

Squinting up at the massive ship as the sun bakes you, people move around you up the walkway alone or in small groups. And some of your doubts ease a bit seeing the ship up close, because you'd honestly assumed it was a scam of some sort. The brochure that had come with your ticket had indicated it was a fantasy cruise. That you could roleplay and romance crew members as funny as it sounds.

Rounding a corner, you run into a queue of people and the cause? The two tallest men you've ever seen. One's mostly silver hair is swept back from an almost sinister, scarred face and red eyes that have to be contacts sweep over the crowd. The other one's hair so dark a black it almost looks blue in the sunlight, his eyes startlingly bright. Yeah. You absolutely understand the backlog now. Everyone gawking at the eye candy on display. That one with the contacts, his eyes almost glow with a feral light, lips twisting in annoyance. And that duster he's wearing looks too hot for the heat, his shirt halfway unbuttoned to show an expanse of tawny skin and tucked into tight fitting jeans. His buddy's shirt stretched tight over a broad chest as he smiles and reaches to hook a finger against his tie, tugging slightly.

"Welcome to the Iacon. I'm Optimus and this is my co-captain Megatron," blue eyes says, his deep voice easily carrying over the whispers. "Please get settled so we can set sail without delay." And he's sweeping an arm to get people moving in the right direction.

Glancing at the two hunks, you follow the crowd, pulling your luggage with you. If the entire crew is that lovely? You're going to have some fun. The ramp enters into an expansive main area, and your neck cranes to try and figure out how many levels there are above you. Never seen a ship this big before. Everything gleaming gold, cream, and glass. Looking far too bourgeoise for you to set foot in or touch. And it looks like the entire cruise line crew is right here, mingling and drifting among the guests. Men and women both and there doesn't seem to be any real dress code going on that you can tell. The only way to tell the crew from the guests is the lack of luggage and the little pins they're wearing. Little colored badges that look like funny faces. And there's multiple versions it looks like. Showing what their duty is, maybe?

"I can't believe that the future of our race lies with these pathetic creatures," Megatron growls, watching the humans wander up the ramp to the ship, fingers flexing in irritation at this indignancy.

Shooting him a censoring look, Optimus watches the humans go. "The strong should protect the weak. Though, these forms do take some getting used to." Rolling his shoulders, he rubs his fingers together, playing with the sensory net and the sensations that feel as real as if it was his own servos touching.

"It's a miracle humans have survived as long as they have," Megatron mutters. No claws, no fangs. Disturbingly squishy and weak, and still very determined to murder each other from what he can tell. Shuddering slightly, he growls as more of them head their way. To come gawk at him. But after centuries of failed attempts to create a hybrid or artificial spark? Their numbers are dwindling. This is the last, best option and he despises it. And as carefully as they selected humans to invite, he can't deny the dread that maybe it won't work. That the medics and scientists got it wrong and this is all a waste of time. That Cybertronians can't be saved. Head turning, he sees Autobot and Decepticon avatars crowding the railing, leaning to watch the humans that might be their salvation with open curiosity.

Annoyed when he sees several head into the ship to greet the humans. And to get close enough to see if any of them trigger reactions to their biofields. Oblivious little organics smiling and gawking at them as they're fussed over on the pretense of getting closer. Because that's the game here. A fantasy cruise where the crew, his people, cater to the human guests' whims, trying to find a compatible partner. It's horrifying that they've sunk this low.

[rekino2114]

Gifting the chainsaw man girls a plushie of themselves

A/n: I'm still on vacation and wanted to do a smaller post while i'm free so i saw this prompt around and thought it was adorable, I'll probably do it with more fandoms let me know if you wanna see it

Makima

Thinks it's amazing and will treasure it forever, she specific keeps it on a shelf in her office (most of her subordinates are very confused to see it just sitting there around the paperwork)

She will 100% give you a plushie of yourself to repay you

Might ask you for a pochita plushie to replace the real one since she doesn't want it anymore.

"Oh, It's adorable darling you're so talented, how about I make you one of yourself to match?"

Power

She is confused at first and asks what power (lol) you used to make a mini her but quickly grows to love it.

It's soft and cuddly just like meowy whenever you're not near her you can bet she'll be cuddling those two things to fall asleep.

Definitely brags about it to denji and aki. Where are their small and fluffy versions of them uh?

"*gasp* is that an idol of the great power? Very well I will accept this. T-thank you"

Himeno

Thinks it's the cutest thing ever and immediately hugs you and peppers you In kisses as thanks

Will always keep it on her shoulder or in view in general hoping that someone asks her about it so she can start ranting about how wonderful her partner is

You have found her multiple times passed out drunk hugging the plushie and mumbling about how much she loves you

"Oh my God! Is that me? Thanks so much it's soooo cute, well not as cute as the original of course~"

Kobeni higashiyama

An incredibly blushy mess whenever you give her the plushie but thinks it's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for her.

It kinda becomes a comforter for her. Whenever she's more nervous or sad than usual, she hugs the plushie and thinks of you, and it makes her feel at least a bit better

She feels kinda bad about not giving you anything back so she'll probably save the small amount of money she has to buy you a plushie you like.

"O-oh, that's really cute. w-wait, is that m-me? I love it a lot. Thank you so so much"

Quanxi (and her harem)

You immediately got tackled in a hug by 4 of your girlfriends when you showed them plushies of every one of them, quanxi just looked at hers for a while before smiling and joining the group hug

Might genuinely stab someone if they say anything remotely negative about the plushie

She works hard with her girlfriends to make you a plushie of yourself since they thought it wasn't fair that you were the only one in the relationship without one.

"Eh, it really does look like me, you did an amazing job on the girls too, don't worry I'll keep it close at all times"

Asa mitaka

Genuinely can't fathom that you would put effort into making something so cute of her out of everyone and the fact that you gifted her that makes her fall in love with you even more

Always keeps it with her mostly in her bag at school, similarly to kobeni it helps calm her down whenever she's having a bad day, it's a reminder that there is someone willing to love her this much

Yoru once tried to draw the scars on it to make it a plushie of her (just to mess with asa) but thankfully she took control in time

"Wait, seriously? That's....for me? Wow, i- I don't know what to say. Just thank you so much"

Yoru

Acts like she doesn't care that much but actually thinks it's really cute, asa often wakes up finding herself hugging it, courtesy of yoru not being able to sleep without it and taking over during the night.

Definitely brags to asa about it (not realizing it's technically a plushie of both of them)

Might ask you to add some weapons to the plushie to make it more interesting

"Hm? What's that? a plushie? I guess it does kinda resemble me, thanks it is kinda nice"

Fami

She might seem as indifferent as usual but genuinely loves the gesture and thinks it's adorable

She brings it with her whenever she eats (which is most of the time) she even puts a little bib on it, it's really cute to watch

Feels really bad when she gets it dirty (mostly when she's eating) so she'll try cleaning it even if she has no idea how

"I see, so it's a plushie of me. How cute. Thank you, you did a great job"

[sunshinesteviee]

quality time - s.h.

summary: steve has some quality time with his newborn wc: 1.1k warnings: descriptions of steve's scars, dad!steve & mom!reader a/n: so i'm pretty sure this was originally a request from an anon literally forever ago, but i cannot for the life of me find the ask, i'm so so sorry! it's been a while since i've posted, so just a lil something for y'all. hope you enjoy! <3

Masterlist

“You wanna hold him again, love?” you ask your husband in a murmur, barely able to pull your gaze up from your newborn. He’s tiny and perfect, and you just can’t get enough of him, even after a couple of hours. 

Steve’s perched next to you on the bed, one strong arm around your body. His thumb traces short, gentle lines over the hill of your shoulder, nose pressing against your temple as he gazes down at your son, “Mhm, yeah, if—“

“You better not be saying ‘if it’s okay with me’, he’s your son, too, Steve. Here, you take him,” you elbow him gently, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. It’s adorable, but totally not necessary. 

His cheeks flame red as he carefully takes the bundle of blankets from you, sheepish as he mumbles, “That’s not what I was gonna say—“

“Save it, baby, I know you better than that.”

He huffs but doesn’t say anything, immediately drawn to his baby boy in his arms instead. He looks like a mini version of you, your nose and eyes that he loves so much; it makes his heart grow ten times bigger. He does have a full head of hair that’s definitely the Harrington gene, though. And maybe he has Steve’s lips, too. 

Steve pulls his arms up, pressing a kiss to his head gently before he moves towards the chair in the corner of the room that he’s claimed as his. Just as he’s about to settle into the chair, a nurse enters the room to check on everyone. She smiles at the sight of your baby boy in Steve’s arms and says, “You know, there’s a lot of benefits of doing skin-to-skin with your newborn. Especially for dad and baby. Helps to regulate baby, and is great for bonding with your baby. Wanna give it a try?”

You expect Steve to say no. Not that he doesn’t care or doesn’t want to, but you can count the number of times you’ve seen him with his shirt off in public on one hand. After his time in the upside down, he’s marred with scars. Deep ones that eat into his sides and pucker his skin, that are rough and not pleasant to look at. The first time he’d gotten up the courage to take off his shirt at the pool, scars still fresh and pink, he’d gotten incredulous looks and nasty stares. He’d quickly learned that it was better to keep his clothes on to keep the questions to a minimum. He wasn’t ashamed, it was just easier that way. The only times Steve took his shirt off in public was if it was around people who knew what had happened, and even then, sometimes he didn’t want to. The scars were a reminder of all the shit they’d been through, and sometimes it was easier to pretend they didn’t exist. 

So, to say you’re surprised when Steve immediately agrees is an understatement. You watch in shock — and admiration — as Steve hands your son back to you for a moment so he can pull his shirt over his head. In fact, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him remove his shirt so quickly, even after all your years together. The bite-shaped scars, though not as prominent as they once were, are on full display, still slightly pink and raised against his tan skin. If the nurse notices, she doesn’t say anything; she only smiles, suppressing a laugh as Steve trades you his shirt for your son. 

He takes him carefully, as if your son is made of glass and could break at any moment. He handles him so delicately it makes your heart burst, and you cradle Steve’s shirt to your own chest. Steve finally sits down, placing his little boy in his lap so he can unwrap the blankets and get him out of his tiny onesie. It’s so small that it nearly makes you cry, even more so as you watch your husband lift your son back up and lay him against his chest once the onesie has been set aside. 

He pauses for a moment, not quite comfortable in the chair yet, eyes flicking to the nurse in the corner of the room as he asks, “It’s not— he’s not gonna be too cold, right?”

“Not at all! Skin to skin is actually great for regulating a baby’s body temperature. He’ll be just fine.”

Steve considers what she’s saying and then nods, finally leaning back into his chair, holding your boy to his chest, “Yeah. Okay, yeah, that’s good.” For someone who had been almost as terrified about being a dad as he was excited, he’s taking to it quickly, just like you knew he would. You knew his insecurities had more to do with his parents than his own ability to be a parent, and so far, he’s already proving himself wrong. 

The newborn scrunch is in full effect, your son’s tiny limbs tucked mostly underneath his body against Steve’s chest. He looks content, and you honestly can’t blame him — Steve’s chest is also one of your favorite places to be. Your husband looks just as content; one hand covering the entirety of your son’s back, fingers behind his head for support, the other hand on his small, diaper-covered bum to keep him in place. Steve’s eyes flutter closed after a few moments, settling back into the chair comfortably.

There’s a Polaroid camera sitting on the bedside table next to you, and you reach for it so you can take a picture. You want to remember this. Not only for the sweet moment, but also for Steve’s clear and immediate love for his little boy. The noise of the camera is a lot louder than you anticipated, and Steve cracks one eye open, sending you the best fake glare he can muster with just one eye. It’s ridiculous and it makes you laugh behind your hand, not wanting to wake your sleeping baby. You murmur a half-hearted apology as the picture prints, not really meaning it. 

Steve snorts his own laugh, his chest moving enough for your little boy to grunt quietly in protest, shifting his position against Steve. Quick to soothe, Steve pats at his tiny back gently, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I know, I know, I’m sorry, sweetheart. Mama’s interrupting our quality time, huh? She had nine whole months with you, and she just has to interrupt us.” 

“Steve,” you giggle, shaking your head as you hold up the now developed picture, “I was trying to capture the moment!”

“Shhh, we’re bonding!”

[illustrationist-of-the-stars]

Im assuming you keep up with TWSt jp spoilers based on your past posts but if I’m wrong then please just ignore this 🙏🏼

Since past sunday was all about keeping people in dreams how do you think YuuSunday would react to the events in book 7 and after?

No, you're right, I generally don't care about getting spoiled about things like this anymore so it's cool :]

Get ready for some rambling because this is gonna be a little long so mb

Once Yuu!Sunday finally reaches the Book 7 arc and sees Malleus breaking down and Overblot's due to his own insecurity and fear of being completely alone, I think it'd be a major kick in the ribs for him as he tries to comprehend the irony of the now switched roles between them as he slowly succumbs to a potential never-ending slumber yet again by another's misguided attempt at a falsely perceived form of mercy.

Yet another individual that they think knows what's best for the lower masses and acts irrationally, disregarding what others and those beneath them would think and not accepting that they'd want otherwise because they must be the only one that understands, to weak to truly do yet far to fragile to be let out of the cage, and if a force of hand or a show of power is what it will take for them to kneel and accept their inevitable peaceful sancutuary?

Then so be it.

...

He wouldn't know if it would be appropriate to laugh or cry at this new yet dreadful development as he stares mutely at the replica version of his dear and forever beloved sister, he's seating at the table of a cafe that he distantly remembers her wanting to try out soon before disaster struck that left him forever ruined and let out of his confinement to venture on his own, wandering and consumed by wanderlust in search of an unknown purpose that may never be found in his short lifetime.

He's knowlegable enough about dreams and illusions that it wouldn't be right to be seated with this fake fantasy any longer, that it would be detremental to him and everyone else beyond this escapism and he needs to act and quickly find a way out because he has no idea if time dilation is a factor with this massive scale of a diabolical spell, that he shouldn't indulge in this fantasy anymore before it's too late and-

"Brother, are you alright?"

The feeling of (it's not her, it will never be, a mere mirage-) Robin's gentle touch on his hand and a soft yet concerned voice accompanies it is what it all took to halt and shatter his reverie and bring him back to the present, with her, with Robin.

"I- I'm sorry, dear sister... I just..."

The lump in his throat increases difficulty in swallowing down, it's as if he somehow ate glass as he truly looks at his dear sister that he misses ever so dearly, picking her apart and the differences and feels weighed down by the fact that it's a perfect copy of her, the posture, the micro expressions on her face, almost everything is close to the T except for the fact that it is not real. None of all this is but he hopes regardless of the fact like te fool he knows he is.

The distance and forced estrangement is still a fresh scar to his already damaged psyche that he couldn't help but equate to burns and lashes on his back as he continues to stare at her, just the same as he remembers he'd seen and left her....

He stares unblinking for a longer moment, prolonging it for all it's worth, unwilling to blink in fear of blinking away this sweet yet crippling dream when he should as Robin stares back at him aswell, without judgement and with the same soft yet concerned smile as she waits patiently however long he needs to finish his thought and reply back to her inquiry.

He thinks distantly that he can feel himself drowning and getting lost in this moment, wonders for a moment that if this is how devil's in scriptions tempted their prey and countless of clueless innocences into condemning themselves in a fate worse than death, turned into sinners and burning for all of eternity as they commited deeds so heinous in the name of their selfish and greedy desires as he carefully holds and grips back her deceptively tangible hand in his gloved one.

He can feel himself finally able to manage to swallow back his guilt and self-loathing as he stares back in kind to his sister, so real, by his side and right there in front of him, like it was always meant to be, with soft and crinkled eyes due to his own smile widening in acceptance at her presence.

"Yes, I'm quite alright. I'm just...so happy you're here, sister"

If indulgance in this sweet dream will condemn and ruin him further in sin than he already was before, he can always try to atone and build himself back up his shattered pieces again, or maybe he can be the ignorant fool and act like he didn't know it was all a lie in the first place but that wouldn't be right, would it?

No, it wouldn't. What a terrible thought, how could he think that? Let alone also consider it, how low must he have fallen to do that?

After this all ends, he'll try his best to repent for the crimes commited, for his willing condemination, he swears desperately as he contradicts himself yet again and again, as much as possible.

If no one will recognize him as man worthy of heaven any longer, that this clear indulgance in sin will set him back even further than he was standing before...

Then so be it.

.

.

.

This is what one would say, a taste of his own medicine, no?

Honestly, I don't think Yuu!Sunday would ever be willing to actually forgive Malleus for betraying his trust, companionship and making him betray his own self at the same time, despite his immense empathy that he was in volatile state and he has been there before, it still incredbily hurt in the worst ways possible.

Not at the moment, atleast.

He needs to work himself out before confronting such woes...

Though, he can't help but feel that this not yet the last of the many betrayal's of his trust as he looks towards at the wardrobe that holds his old ceremonial robes and other miscellanious clothing and trinkets.

He just...feels it.

[stsgluver]

synopsis. gojo satoru always wins.

wc. 880

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, spoilers for 236, possible spelling mistakes I have not proofread this (do I ever?)

a/n. currently clearing out all my old wips. i've already written this in a different version I think but idc bc if i write about him coming home enough times he will eventually do it. my next few works are probs going to be my rich boy!gojo drafts

there was a brief moment when the world stilled. the air was squeezed from your lungs as everything around you slowly began to spin and you weren’t sure the last time you had slept – had it been that long that the hallucinations were finally starting to kick in?

“oh my god.” those were the only words you could utter in your state of disbelief. you couldn’t close your eyes: you couldn’t risk him disappearing. if you were brave enough, you’d reach out to trace the new scars carved into his porcelain skin.

“you can’t say that, you know how my ego is,” gojo looked as gorgeous as ever, arm raised as he leant against the doorframe of his apartment. the same apartment you’d set up camp in nineteen days ago and had only left when yuuji brought you some food. you’d lost too much to process and you were a shell of the person gojo had kissed goodbye to before he left for shibuya. there were deep purple bags under your eyes, your hair was loosely tied back in a messy bun that probably hadn’t been properly washed or brushed in several days and your clothes were probably just gojo’s – you’d been desperate for some sense of familiarity. 

he looked like he hadn’t just been sealed away in another realm. the only evidence of a struggle were his new scars that seemed to decorate every inch of available skin, beyond that he looked excited to be alive, his fitted clothes clinging to him. his cursed energy was terrifyingly immense and you knew him well enough to know he was still riding off of a high that came with fighting for him. 

you were scared to ask who had been the opponent – never would the world’s strongest sorcerer be injured and not cause equal amounts of harm in return. he had a title to uphold after all, something to prove.

“not even a hello?” he shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he tsked you. he was so casual in his mannerisms, playing it all off as though he hadn’t spent what felt like an eternity counting down the seconds so that he could see you again. “you can’t have forgotten me that quickly.” he was practically whining now, desperate for the love and warmth you gave him but not daring to cross the threshold and smother you. 

you weren’t a sorcerer and though you understood some of his world, there was so much more that you didn’t. gojo would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared that one day it would be too overwhelming for you and you’d leave him like everyone else had. 

so he did what he did best: masked his insecurities with a sarcastic humour that held no bite: “don’t tell me there’s another man in the house.”

you smiled, and blinked, and you were suddenly here again; in the moment with him and not a thousand miles away wondering what the hell he’d been through. a lone tear slipped down your cheek and gojo ached to wipe it away.

“are you… are you real?” your voice was still shaky and if it wasn’t for the complete silence, you doubted that he would’ve been able to hear you. 

but he did, and then his arm is up against the doorframe again and he was gesturing to his physique as he complimented himself, “super powerful, mega rich and dashingly handsome? i know how perfect i may seem but i’m very real.” he winked and suddenly it was like you remembered that you have free will, practically jumping into his arms.

gojo wasn’t phased as he tucked you tightly into his body, his cursed technique completely dropped for the first time in what felt like forever. his body breathed a sigh of relief as his muscles ached.

“you’re such a jackass,” you lifted up your head to rest against his chest, eyes shining with tears that didn't fall.

gojo nodded slowly, brushing back the loose strands of your hair as he stared at you adoringly, “you love me.”

“mhmm,” you hummed, taking a step back from his longing arms to look up at him through your lashes. “y’know,” you traced a finger across the material on his chest, “you could make it up to me by closing your eyes.” his breath hitched ever so slightly under your touch. you leant in so that your lips almost touched his ear, “i need to kick my boytoy out. things could get kinda awkward if you two saw each other.”

it would be easier to list the things gojo wouldn’t do for you. he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, even going as far as to hold a hand over them. “how pretty is he on a scale of 1-10?”

there was a pause before you responded, as you took in every inch of the man that stood before you. a god in a mortal’s body. one that lived and breathed and worshipped you. “he’s gorgeous,” you whispered, breathless simply from his existence alone. and then he’s smiling and laughing and picking you up, spinning you in a circle and telling you how much he loves you and for a few brief seconds he’s just satoru and you’re just his.

[jason-todd-week]

Feature Post

Congratulations to everyone who did Jason Todd Week 2025! (We will also have a summer event, so look out for that!)

Here we have a list of works (fanart and fanfic) by some of the awesome creators who participated in this event. Levels of detail vary by what was submitted to the feedback form. Please check the tags for warnings!

Without further ado...

Lycanwing (@star-wars-lycanwing-bat, Star_Wars_Lycanwing_Bat on AO3) - Series

Road to Murder - On his way to murder the Joker, Jason questions his life's choices. (Drive)

Olive Branches - After a long day, all Jason wants is to go back to his apartment, but a little bird tries to get him to join in on family movie night. (Chronic Pain)

Monster - A half dragon kills Joker and reveals himself to Bruce. (Monster)

Isn't It Lovely, All Alone? - Jason is buried alive and he dies but the pit keeps bringing him back. (Grave, Buried Alive, Immortal Jason Todd)

Hello, Welcome Home - The aftermath of day 5 AKA The family cuddle pile. (Family)

Feline Therapy - Jason rescues a cat but what he doesn't know is that the cat is Tim. (Enemy to Caretaker)

Another Version of Me - Jason get triggered and Dick helps his brother realise that he is loved. (Return)

Birdie (@birdiedoesdc, a_alene on AO3) - Series

N.J.S.A. 39:3-10 - Drive

do you still wake up reaching for an empty space? - Chronic Pain

buried, banging at your door - Monster, League of Assassins

i'm gonna kill you if you don't beat me to it - Immortal Jason Todd

this live, throbbing age that brawls - Jason is a Literature Nerd

mechanically up all night, though - Red Hood and the Outlaws

i'd save a life if i thought it belonged to you - Lifeline

whenicarusflies (@whenicarusflies, whenicarusflies on AO3) - Series

We walked as tall as the skyline - Drive, Time Travel, The Batmobile Tires

when i take a breath I drown - Fear Toxin

How can I then return in happy plight? - League of Assassins

always and forever the last day alive - Grave, Buried Alive, Immortal Jason Todd

Family Problems - Family, No Capes AU

could you give me something for the pain - Enemy to Caretaker, Lifeline

you can't wake up, this is not a dream - Return, Outsider POV, Crime Alley

Chaos (Fic)/Lito (Art) (@freedom-of-speech333, Freedom_of_speech333 on AO3) - Series

The Loss of Tires (The Return of Hope) - The Batmobile Tires

Laughter Follows Me Back To Life - Joker

The Ghost of Who I Was/The Most of Who You Loved - Supernatural AU

I'm Still Here - Immortal Jason Todd

I'm Only Here For The Books - Jason is a Literature Nerd

You’re My Brother, After All - Enemy to Caretaker

The Life, Death, and Second Life of Jason Todd - Outsider POV

basalting (@basalting) - Series

late night drive - Drive

a good fuckin' day - Joker

cuckoo's egg - Supernatural AU

rest your weary heart - Grave

buy one, get one 50% off! - Family

don't think nothin' of it - Red Hood and the Outlaws - Implied Roy/Kori/Jason

it takes a village - Outsider POV, Crime Alley

Stormz (@stormz369) - Masterlist

Day 1 - Flashbacks to Jason's early years with Batman + Reader finding out he was killed. (Batmobile Tires) - x Reader

Day 2 - Reader helps Jason deal with a PTSD nightmare. (Joker) - x Reader

Day 3 - A civilian kid is afraid of Red Hood & Jason processes his feelings about it. (Monster) - x Reader

Day 4 - Jason + Reader at his grave. (Grave) - x Reader

Day 5 - Damian designs scar cover up tattoos for Jason (Family, Jason is a Literature Nerd) - x Reader

Lark Alliance (@snowberriesromanoff, lyricalark on AO3)

Day 7: come in she said i'll give you shelter from the storm - Jason Todd, the Narrows, and something like faith. A character study of Jason's pre-Robin years and the people who help him survive. (Crime Alley) - Selina Kyle/Holly Robinson

nursal1060 (@nursal1060writes, nursal1060 on AO3)

Day 2: The Pain Fades When We're Together - Chronic Pain - JayTim

salem (@worlds-okayest-fag, salemisntdead on AO3) - Series

Carry on my wayward son, there will be peace when you are done - Basically jason gets kidnapped by dick (not that he knows its dick lol). (Drive)

don’t need advice for my pain (it's making me more insecure) - Jason has a not fun night and wont ask for help. (Chronic Pain)

jason todd and the no good terrible very bad day - Supernatural AU

A minute from home (but so far from it) - Jason stuck in a time loop digging himself out of his grave over and over again. (Grave, Immortal Jason Todd)

ohana means family and family means nobody gets left behind (except tim) - Jason, Tim and Dick on a Batburger run for a family movie night, Dick and Jason argue about Disney movies and they accidentally leave Tim behind. (Family, No Capes AU)

And though I am crying and bleeding and barely breathing (youre killing me) - Absolute angst piece about Jason having a mental breakdown in his bathroom bc trauma. (Scars)

i don't believe in luck (against the sun we're the enemy) - Sentient Gotham AU where Jason is Gotham's chosen knight. (Outsider POV)

FaalThien (@faalthien, Faal on AO3)

Day 1 - Time Travel

Day 2 - Joker - JayDick

-

Day 4 - Immortal Jason

Day 5 - Monster, Jason is a Literature Nerd

Day 6 - Scars

Day 7 - Return

[tutanchanup]

HOW WOULD VLAD III. DRACULEA BE AS A VAMPIRE?

(look how he still has his wedding ring but it's on his right hand as - from what I learned - in medieval times you'd actually wear it like that! Also did you notice the scars on his wrists from shackles of Corvinus' prison? Eek! 😊)

This question is inevitable. Whether we like it or not, the name of Vlad Draculea has been inseparably linked to that of the literary vampire. But we can at least look at how would the real Dracula, Vlad III Țepeș, voivode of Wallachia, look like in this role.

~•~•~

So, I've decided to listen to you and give you my opinion about Vlad as a vampire (I am honoured that someone wants to hear that, thank you 🥰, I'll answer the call of my people!). It became quite long, so I broke it down to several parts:

First, we'll look what the curse of vampirism would do to a psyche of an average human, and then we compare it to Vlad, who was formed by his mediaeval upbringing (in some future post I'll also discuss that in detail, so if you're interested in that, look ahead 😄). In part 2 (in a future post), I'll look at how he would physically look like - what fashion would he use (you'll be surprised!), his physical behaviour, and what impression would his presence make upon you. And in part 3 we'll look at his personality and the reasoning behind his actions. And, if someone would be actually interested, I am willing to make part 4 where I'd tell you what depictions of Dracula in media that I've seen so far I feel are closest to this and why 😉.

Disclaimer: as I have yet to talk to Vlad Draculea myself (just kidding, I actually have him locked in my closet, bwahaha!), please note that this is all MY OPINION. Feel free to tell me to shove it up my ar*e. But since this opinion is based upon at least some reasoning, please give your reasoning as well 😉.

Should you listen to me or not? Find out here.

~°~°~

So now, when we're done with the formalities, let's finally get into the big question itself:

How would Vlad III. Draculea deal with a curse of vampirism?

Prepare your tea, as this will be long 😄

Since there are many versions of vampiric curses in media, we'll look only at the two most common aspects: immortality and the need to drink human! blood (a.k.a kill humans, no bloodbags or vegan alternatives this time)

Let's see first what would such a curse do to a psyche of a regular human.

There are several huge pressures which could lead to a gradual break down of the former self, eventually opening the possibility to become a sadistic monster (of course everyone is different and would take it differently, but let's now look at the average human).

1. The Constant Need to Kill

The curse forces the vampire to regularly take human lives, gradually normalizing killing. This loss of respect for human life would eventually lead to dehumanization and a loss of empathy.

2. Isolation and Loneliness

An immortal would always end up forever alone, without family, friends, or a true community. Even when they would talk to humans, that would painfully remind them what they've lost since they are not human themselves anymore. This isolation would lead to hopelessness and despair, slowly eroding their psyche. If there would be other vampires, then they could pact with them, but since those would be under the pressure of the curse as well, it wouldn't be a cheerful company, instead making you face every time what have you yourself become, accelerating your loss of humanity.

3. Guilt and Desperation

Every decision about life and death would carry heavy consequences. When you take life once, you can never take it back. And the more power you have, the more catastrophic are the consequences of your failures. Also everyone makes mistakes, but in an immortal life you'd eventually accumulate a huge number of them. This overwhelming weight of guilt could lead one to distance oneself from their conscience, and that could result in sadism.

But what if this curse has happened to Vlad III. Draculea,

the medieval voivode from the 15th century, who's name is irrevocably linked with vampirism thanks to that unfortunate novel of Bram's?

We have to take in mind that he already was a voivode. A role that was always destined to him thanks to his royal blood, and which he was being prepared to carry since childhood

(yes, he was not the firstborn, but given the high turnover of voivodes on the throne, there was a big chance someone would use him to make him a pretender one day anyway. When you were born with a claim to the throne in your blood, you usually became a leader, or you were murdered by those in power who were afraid that you might use that claim of yours one day. It wasn't a choice)

And here comes the big surprise, as you can see:

The role of a voivode already carried exactly the same psychological pressures as the vampiric curse!

Don't believe me? Let's have a look!

1. The Constant Need to Kill

As a voivode, you also had the role of a judge and also a war commander (voivode comes from the Slavic word voj (army) vode (leader)). So the taking of human lifes would be inevitable, even if you didn't take it by your own hands. It was your responsibility to carry out laws and reign justice. In mediaeval times, the punishment for many crimes were deadly. So you already had to cope with that responsibility that you're the one deciding over people's fate. There was really no other choice, too - if you'd decide not to implement punishments according to the law, your own people would be angry at you, as they would see you as someone not upholding the law. And if you'd be too merciful, you'd be seen as weak, which would lead to your downfall and decapitation at the hands of you rivals (no, they wouldn't let you live and become a threat one day)

2. Isolation and Loneliness

The role of a monarch is a lonely one. You're alone in your position. You're the sole leader of the nation and everyone counts on you, which means that you have access to some nice luxury, but you're also cut off from real human connection, because noone will see you as their equal (in their eyes, you're above). Yes, you might eventually be given a wife, but that's an arranged marriage. And what sense is there in falling madly in love when you never know when you'll be called into battle (where you'd be expected to lead at the front), or when will your rivals finally succeed in planting their dagger into your back? I'm not saying that you never could love, but you'd be very careful with that, since if your enemies would see that you actually love someone, they would exploit that new weakness of yours immediately. Your view on love would be the same as that of the immortal vampire - they would know that it can never last forever because their sweetheart will die. You as a monarch know that it won't last forever because YOU'll probably die.

3. Guilt and Desperation

When your every ruling decides the fate of your nation, the consequences of your failures will be massive as well - for example when you make a bad decision and that leads to an Ottoman Invasion, your country will be pillaged, your men cut into pieces, woman raped and children taken into slavery.

So as you can see, for Vlad Draculea, the pressures of vampiric curse would be nothing new. For him, it would only be the continuation of his voivodeship, only in different clothes. And he knew how to cope with them before, so he would also know how to cope with them now. Because in real life he didn't descend into becoming a sadistic monster (#don't believe mediaeval propaganda)

If you're interested in the specific coping mechanisms based in mediaeval psyche that he used to be able to fulfill his role as a voivode, I am preparing a separate post about that, and I promise you you'll be fascinated. And it actually could help you deal with modern problems as well. It certainly did help me massively 😉. I'll link the post here as well when it's done eventually.

Edit: part 1 is already done! Here are some tips useful for mental health from Vlad

This one is more on general coping mechanisms useful for dealing with excessive emotions such a role would bring. In some future part I'll also pick apart how specifically he'd have dealt with the pressure of responsibility of such a role, which is more in topic to this post.

So out of all people, it would be the famous Dracula himself, who would keep most of his humanity intact!

...which is quite ironic when you look at how in almost every traditional portrayal he's a sadistic monster. Yes, the curse could do that to a regular human. But paradoxically not to Vlad III Draculea himself.

Would Draculea descend into a self-deprecating existence, hiding away from human sight in shame like most vampires do?

I would not count on it. Not because he was a voivode, but because he was Vlad Draculea.

Look, even if he might hate what he have become (as becomming a blood sucking immortal would probably go against his christian values), if anything, Draculea has never before let anything define him as a victim.

When the ottomans tortured him as a child, he didn't become a "poor tortured boy". He used it to make himself stronger and became a warrior. And that's why the Ottomans never managed to break him, as opposed to others.

Same would happen now - he wouldn't let the curse make him into "a poor cursed monster". He would be still a "voivode who happened to be under the curse of vampirism, ah well, what can you do, at least now I've got more weapons in my arsenal, nice!"

I am not saying that perhaps he would not disagree with the course, no, I think he even might be angry that this happened to him, the same way as he was justifiably angry when the ottomans tortured him. He might even spend a long time trying to find a cure for the curse. Because he was a man who wanted to always be in control (which makes sense when you look at his childhood, where he as a prisoner had no control at all), and if he was cursed against his will, or if the curse made him do things he didn't want to do, he would try his best to get rid of it (like he tried to get rid of the ottomans).

But in the meantime he would use it as best he could for his own purpose, like he still used an ottoman kilij for fighting, even though he hated the ottomans - because they trained him with the kilij and he wasn't a hateful fool to just throw it away the moment he got free from their captivity. He was pragmatic, he knew that after years of training he will always be better at fighting with kilij than with other swords (and also in some ways the curved sabre IS better than a straight sword, as we can see that it later took over. So Draculea would see that advantage as well).

Yeah, if you want to define Vlad in one single word, it would be: "pragmatic"

He had never let himself be overwhelmed with blind hatred - look how he withdrew his men from the night attack near Târgoviște, EVEN THOUGH he was this close to killing the sultan! But he withdrew his men instead because he knew that they would suffer horrible losses if he didn't withdraw in the right time.

But I also don't mean that he would let himself go and then try to excuse his behaviour like "ah, it's okay for me to murder you all, because you see, I am a vampire, I have no other choice" IF HE ACTUALLY HAD OTHER CHOICES AVAILABLE. He'd still feel obliged to use his power responsibly, as he did when he had power as a voivode.

So, when we take into account all this, we can see that he would probably never descend into crouching in the shadows (if that wasn't a part of some strategic plan of course), trying to hide away from the world so that noone may look at him and see the monster he became.

No, he would still have his honour and pride. He would never 'talk as a low vampire'. He would always talk as a voivode. But he would use his vampiric aspects when it would suit him strategically - for example he would smile exposing his teeth when purposedly trying to scare someone (as pictured).

So the final verdict is:

Vlad would never be a vampire. Vlad would be a voivode who also happens to be a vampire.

[curiositymemes]

STICK SEASON: WE'LL ALL BE HERE FOREVER.

taken from the 2023 album by noah kahan. trigger warnings for mental illness, trauma, medication, references to suicide, and the exquisite agony of life in rural new england. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

northern attitude.

how you been? 

you settled down?

you feelin’ right? 

you feelin’ proud?

you settle in to routine.

what does it mean? 

i’m not how you hoped.

you’re gettin’ lost.

scared to live, scared to die. 

you’re feelin’ lost.

stick season.

you must’ve had yourself a change of heart.

now i am stuck between my anger and the blame that i can’t face.

it’s half my fault, but i just like to play the victim. 

i’ll dream each night of some version of you that i might not have but i did not lose. 

i thought that if i piled something good on all my bad i could cancel out the darkness i inherited from dad. 

i miss the way you laugh.

you once called me forever now you still can’t call me back.

that’ll have to do.

my other half was you.

i hope this pain’s just passin’ through, but i doubt it. 

all my love.

how have things been?

well, love, now that you mention it.

i’m sayin’ too much, but you know how it gets out here.

now i know your name, but not who you are.

it’s all okay, there ain’t a drop of bad blood.

you got all my love.

if you need me, dear, i’m the same as i was.

what i’d give to have you out of me.

i still recall how the leather in your car feels.

and at the end of it all, i just hope that your scars heal.

i swear i was scared to death.

i smiled stupid the whole way home.

you said, ‘i’ll never let you go.’

she calls me back.

there was heaven in your eyes. 

everything’s alright.

look at me and don’t you lie.

don’t you hold your head up high.

for bullshit, i do not have time.

do you lie awake restless?

why am i so obsessive?

this town’s the same as you left it.

the radio is taunting me.

i don’t get much sleep most nights.

i’m seeing you in every dream.

if only i could fall asleep. 

i’ll love you when the oceans dry. 

i was too afraid of living life in your footsteps.

come over.

it was there when we got here, will be there when we leave.

you won’t have to guess who they’re speakin’ about.

i’m in the process of clearin’ out cobwebs. 

i was takin’ the wrong meds; feels good to be sad.

my house is just barely big enough for my family.

my mouth was designed for my foot to fit in it.

i promise you, darlin’.

you won’t ever go back.

i know that it ain’t much.

i know that it ain’t cool.

you don’t have to tell the other kids at school.

someday i’m gonna be somebody people want.

new perspective.

makin’ me nostalgic.

we were kids; but that don’t make this less hard.

if i could fly i doubt i’d even do it. 

i’d probably get high and crash or somethin’ stupid.

gave me your word.

i can’t pronounce it.

no thing so sure that i can’t learn to doubt it.

everywhere, everything.

would we survive in a horror movie?

we trust everyone we meet.

we’re littered with scars from our preteens.

i wanna love you ‘til we’re food for the worms to eat.

‘til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours. 

i know every route in this county.

maybe that ain’t such a bad thing.

i’ll tell you where not to speed.

it’s been a long year.

orange juice.

honey, come over.

it’s yours if you want it.

we’re just glad you could visit. 

feels like i’ve been ready for you to come home for so long.

i didn’t think to ask you where you’d gone. 

why’d you go?

my heart has changed and my soul has changed.

you just asked me to hold you.

it made you a stranger and it filled you with anger.

my life has changed.

the world has changed.

don’t you find it strange that you just went ahead and carried on?

are we all just pullin’ you down?

strawberry wine.

darling, speak to me.

don’t you say a word.

you thought you were cursed?

i’m in love with every song you’ve ever heard.

if i could lose you, i would.

all the time we used to have.

the things i miss but know are never coming back. 

no thing defines a man like love that makes him soft.

growing sideways.

finally found some middle ground.

i said, ‘i’m cured.’

i divvied up my anger into thirty separate parts.

i’m still angry at my parents for what their parents did to them.

it’s a start.

but i ignore things and i move sideways ‘til i forget what i felt in the first place.

i know there are worse ways to stay alive.

everyone’s growing and everyone’s healthy.

if my engine works perfect on empty, i guess i’ll drive. 

i forgot my medication, fell into a manic high.

now i’m sufferin’ in style.

why is pain so damn impatient? ain’t like it’s got a place to be.

if all my time was wasted, i don’t mind. 

i’ll watch it go.

it’s better to die numb than feel it all.

halloween.

the dawn isn’t here, the sun hasn’t rose.

they got money to make and children back home.

i worry for you, you worry for me.

the bridges have long since been burnt. 

i’m leavin’ this town and i’m changin’ my address.

i know that you’ll come if you want.

i’m losin’ myself.

i’m seein’ my life on a screen.

i know that you fear that i’m wicked and weary.

i know that you’re fearin’ the end. 

i only tell the truth when i’m sure that i’m lyin’. 

homesick.

are you bored yet?

the weather ain’t been bad if you’re into masochistic bullshit.

this place is such great motivation for anyone tryna move the fuck away from hibernation. 

time moves so damn slow i swear i feel my organs failing.

i stopped caring ‘bout a month ago, since then it’s been smooth sailing. 

i would leave if only i could find a reason. 

i got dreams, but i cant make myself believe them. 

i’ll spend the rest of my life with what could have been. 

i will die in the house that i grew up in.

i’m homesick. 

still.

i don’t wanna say goodbye.

it only falls into place when you’re fallin’ to pieces.

you miss something that you can’t place but you can’t deny it. 

you can’t stay here.

it’s hard to face and it feels too ugly.

it’s like i’m still here with you. 

can i fix what is broken?

the view between villages (extended). 

for a minute, the world seems so simple.

i am not scared of death.

i’ve got dreams again.

there is meanin’ on earth. 

i feel so far from it.

it’s all washin’ over me. 

i’m angry again. 

the things that i lost here, the people i knew.

they got me surrounded for a mile or two. 

i found a town big enough for anything i want.

i’m not a city girl, by any means.

it still has a lot of meaning to me.

i grew up there. 

your needs, my needs.

you ain’t gotta tell me what it means.

i promise to be there this time. alright? 

you were a work of art.

that’s the hardest part.

i’m naming the stars in the sky after you.

dial drunk.

i promised to forget you.

i ain’t takin’ any fault.

am i half the man i used to be? i doubt it.

forget about it, whatever.

it’s all the same anyways.

i ain’t proud of all the punches that i’ve thrown. 

for the shame of being young, drunk, and alone.

i gave your name as my emergency phone call.

i’d die for you.

from charmin’ to alarmin’ in seconds.

i’ll let the pain metastasize.

i beg you, sir, just let me call.

let’s wait, i swear she’ll call me back.

son, are you a danger to yourself?

fuck that, sir.

son, why do you do this to yourself?

paul revere.

this place had a heartbeat in its day.

nothin’ was the same.

it just ain’t that simple, it never was.

one day i’m gonna cut it clear.

i’m not from around here.

i’ll leave before the road crew’s out. 

i’ll turn up the music and i’ll forget.

i’m not ready to let go yet.

i’ll just pretend i didn’t hear.

it’s typical, i fear.

folks just disappear.

if i could leave, i would’ve already left.

no complaints.

i thought i had something and that’s the same as having something.

i get mad at nothing.

i pull no punches, then feel bad for months.

thought i was raised better, tried to fake better.

now the weight of the world ain’t so bad.

i saw the end, it looks just like the middle.

i filled the hole in my head with prescription medication.

who am i to complain?

now the pain’s different. It still exists, it just escapes different.

yes, i’m young and living dreams.

i’m in love with being noticed and afraid of being seen.

call your mom.

oh, you’re spiralin’ again.

don’t you cancel any plans.

stayed on the line with you the entire night ‘til you let it out and let it in.

don’t let this darkness fool you.

i’ll drive all night.

i’ll call your mom.

oh, dear, don’t be discouraged.

i’ve been exactly where you are.

if you could see yourself like this.

you’dve never tried it.

stayed on the line with you the entire night ‘til you told me that you had to go.

throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason.

don’t wanna drive another mile wonderin’ if you’re breathin’.

won’t you stay with me?

you’re gonna go far. 

this is good land, or at least it was.

it takes a strong hand and a sound mind.

it makes me smile to know when things get hard, you’ll be far from here.

pack up your car.

put a hand to your heart.

say whatever you feel.

be wherever you are.

we ain’t angry at you, love.��

you’re the greatest thing we’ve lost.

the birds will still sing.

we’ll be waiting for you, love.

we’ll all be here forever.

we spent so long just getting by.

that’s the thing about survival; who the hell likes livin’ just to die?

you told me you would make a difference.

it won’t be by your own volition if you step foot outside this town.

it’s all we’ve had for always.

you’re gonna go far.

if you wanna go far, then you gotta go far.

forever.

let’s drive for no reason.

you look fine in the evening.

honey, it’s starting to storm.

used to wish i meant anything to anywhere, to anyone.

i’m glad i get forever to see where you end.

i won’t be alone for the rest of my life.

i’ll meet a girl in the heat of july.

i’ll tell her so she knows.

i’m broke, but i’m real rich in my head.

when i hold her close, i might loosen my grip, but i won’t ever let her go.

[verathena14]

sooo i may be working on making a bunch of aa cats... oops :3 this first batch is phoenix, some of the feys, and the trilogy prosecutors (except payne because i dont ljke him /lh)

(its funny cuz when i got into aa i was like "im good enough at drawing humans now, im not gonna make cat versions of them! aaaand here we are)

ALSO! if youre new here, this is what i do lmaoooo i take human characters and i zap em with the cat-o-matic (not to be confused with the cat-flap-o-mat, that's not in this trilogy)

a lot of thought went into these designs, so i have details below the cut cuz some of them go into spoilers

Phoenix: I wanted him to be kinda blueish, as a reference to his signature blue suit. He's kinda stocky, with large paws. He's got very spiky fur on the back of his head, to replicate his signature hairstyle, and though the design is based on trilogy!phoenix, I gave him the little stray strand of hair from his aa5 (i think) design. I will admit, I kinda stole the badge-collar from another catified ace attorney design for him I saw, but I don't remember whose it was. His markings are pretty simple, and he's got a white heart-shape on his chest as a nod to the warrior name I gave him. And of course, he's got the little mouth scar from eating glass.

Maya: I wanted the Feys to be very visually distinct from everyone else, so I decided that the Feys would all have complex tabby patterns and distinctive curls in their fur shapes. Maya's Warriors name, Lilacpaw, inspired the shape of the tabby markings, as they form almost petal-shapes. She's purple-tinted, both as a nod to her AU name as well as to the purple medium outfit. The small star on her chest symbolizes her status as the Master of the Kurain Channeling Technique.

Pearl: Like Maya, she is very fluffy and has curly fur. Her large ears are both a way to keep her looking young and cute, and simultaneously represent her human verson's hair loops. However, unlike Maya, her tabby stripes are fairly basic, and will develop into a more distinctive pattern with age.

Mia: Unlike Maya, who has a very short and fluffy form, Mia is taller, more slender, and her fluffy bits are relatively concentrated in certain areas, like her chest. This is done in order to show how she has left the Fey clan, but she still retains elements of the Fey signatures, as she has not completely cut ties with them. She pins her attorney's badge on her scarf, and her magatama is partially hidden by her chest fluff. Design-wise, she and her mother Misty are very similar.

Misty: Regarding the hairdo, I honestly had no idea how to translate it to something that would make sense for a cat, so I decided to abandon realism and just give her the same hair. As mentioned previously, she has a similar design to Mia, to symbolize how they both left the Fey clan. Her tabby stripes are wispy, referencing her name Mistystar. The star on her chest is partially hidden, symbolizing her attempts as Elise Deauxnim to hide her true identity.

Miles: Miles' design is fairly simple, as the main idea behind his design was to strike a balance between him sharing some of the von Karmas' traits while still remaining distinct from them. His chest, like the von Karmas', is very fluffy, as a reference to his cravat-jabot thing. The darker coloring under his eyes is meant to resemble eye bags, since he often suffers from nightmares. His Warriors name, Winterheart, is also significant, with a double meaning. The more obvious one is that he is distant and cold to others (especially early aa1), with a "cold heart." The second one is a reference to the DL-6 incident, which happened during December, and changed him as a person forever. One could speculate that he took on a new name under von Karma's tutelage, in order to ensure he didn't forget the incident.

Manfred: Yes these are out of order, but to understand Franziska's design one must understand Manfred's design. The von Karmas are designed as blue-grey colorpoint longhair cats, purebreds, as a nod to Manfred's obsession with perfection. They have tall ears, long tails, and sleek fur. Manfred has the same fluffy chest as Miles, referencing his cravat. The small scar on his shoulder is again a reference to the DL-6 incident, but it is mostly covered with the fluffy chest fur. His name, Thundersnap, is inspired by his commanding presence, and how in-game, his snap quiets the whole courtroom, as well as the scene where he straight-up tazes Phoenix and Maya.

Franziska: Her design much mirrors her father's, with the same tall ears and fluffy chest. Her chest fur differs from Miles and Manfred's, however, since she wears a large bow instead of a cravat. The dark patch on her back has two meanings; the first is a simple reference to her black vest. The second is a mar on Manfred's perfection; her markings are not expected of a purebred colorpoint, symbolizing her struggle to achieve a level of perfection like her father. Another point about her design is that she is slender, but with large fluffy parts, in order to make herself look bigger. She does this in-game too, with her puffy shoulders and large cuffs.

Godot: Out of the prosecutors, Godot's design was probably the easiest for me. I wanted him to be a white cat, but with bits of dark brown as a remnant of Diego Armando, and also because somehow his beard didn't turn white when the rest of his hair did. His eyes are drawn differently than my usual style, showing how his eyesight is very poor behind the mask. Also Redmask isnt his real name, he just chose it to be edgy & to conceal his identity

[undertheopensky]

Extinction

Whumptober Day 27: I misread Alt Prompt #7 Examination, so I guess this is now a Skies-specific prompt of Extinction. Though if you wanted to get poetic about it, I guess ‘Scars’ would also work.

Characters: Sky, Four, everyone’s kind of there especially in the first part

Trigger warnings: Panic attacks, grief, dehumanisation, it makes sense in context

Read on Ao3!

–––

“No, see, wolves are to wolfos what unicorns are to horses,” Hyrule is explaining to a perplexed Wild. “And rabbits to a pols voice. Y’know, the non-monstery version.”

“Out of curiosity, what the fuck do you think a unicorn is?” Legend asks, visibly fascinated by the whole conversation.

Hyrule thinks for a moment. “I’m pretty sure it’s like a horse with fairy wings? That doesn’t want to kill you.”

“Okay, I think we need to introduce you to more horses than Twilight’s monster.”

“Oi!” Twilight protests, looking up from his leatherwork.

“Last week she stomped and then ate a deku baba,” Legend says flatly.

“So?”

“Oh my god,” Legend mutters. Then, as Time walks up, his patrol apparently finished, “Hey, old man! What’s a unicorn to you?”

“Horse with a horn,” he replies easily.

Wild wrinkles his nose, clearly struggling to imagine it. “What’s the horn for?”

“For stabbing people, obviously.”

“What?! No!” Indignant, Four looks up from his book. “They cleanse water and purify poisons! There are no legends associating them with the battlefield, except for one country that uses them as the heraldry device for medics!”

Time shrugs, clearly unbothered.

“No wings, then?” asks Hyrule, slightly crestfallen.

“Nah, that’s a pegasus,” says Warriors.

“Like the boots?” Legend squints at the wings on his own.

“I think so? It’s a horse with, like, bird wings. One of the noble families back home uses them in their heraldry. There’s a lot of mythical creatures on heraldry, actually.”

“Rabbits ain’t mythical,” says Twilight.

“I’ve never seen one before.”

“Wait, back up – what’s a rabbit?” says Wind.

“A non-monstery pols voice.”

Wind isn’t pleased with Hyrule’s answer. “And what the hell is a pols voice?”

“It’s like…” Hyrule is stumped by the question. “It’s like… a, a blob with whiskers and long ears, except then it opens its mouth and it’s ALL mouth, and all teeth, and –”

“Oh, those! Huh, I never knew what they were called. I only came across ‘em once. And a rabbit is…”

“Smaller and less evil,” says Legend dryly, which which for some reason makes Twilight sputter with choked laughter.

“Oh, yeah - Sky,” Hyrule turns around to address him, “Sky, you’re the earliest -”

“I have never seen a unicorn,” Sky interrupts. “And I’m not sure what a rabbit is, but there’s a lot of flora and fauna on the Surface we’re still struggling to figure out, and I haven’t seen much of it that’s familiar while travelling with you. Things must change a lot through the eras.” He feels his face fall as his heart does. “Like loftwings, I guess.”

“What are loftwings, anyway? You’ve mentioned them before.”

Sky’s brow furrows. “Have I not explained loftwings yet?”

“You got partway through and then we were attacked by those chuchus and got distracted,” Wild offers.

Sky pulls a face. Right, and then cleanup had taken forever, because chuchus. Of all monster species, why were those ones so universal? They were barely even functional! “Okay. Loftwings are… huge birds, I guess is the easiest way to describe them. Each Hylian gets a loftwing partner when we’re young, and we grow up together. It’s - everyone has one. It’s been really weird to me that none of your eras have them. Since we’re on an isolated series of islands - or, well, we were - loftwings are essential to carry us from place to place.”

“They carry you? How big are they?”

“Pretty big.” Sky squints for a moment. “Crimson’s wingspan would stretch between that log and where Twilight’s sitting, easy.”

“Giant birds?” Wind screws up his face. “Like the Helmaroc King? Don’t like that.”

It’s Hyrule’s turn to make a face. “What’s a helmaroc king?”

Wind shrugs. “Massive bird monster. Oh, hey, maybe that’s what happened to Loftwings?”

“Hm?” Sky blinks back from where he’d been imagining Crimson sitting between Twilight and Warriors, sneakily tugging the captain’s scarf whenever he looked away. Goddess, he misses him. “Sorry, what was that?”

“You said it was weird that they don’t exist in any of our eras, right? Maybe it’s because they turned into monsters over time, like wolves and rabbits!”

Sky doesn’t know what noise he makes at that, doesn’t know what his face is doing. He feels cold, and sick, and horrified, because no no no that can’t be what happened please tell him that’s not what happened -

But why did the loftwings disappear? Left behind only in heraldry and insignia, not even their names left to history? How could they have been forgotten so completely?

“No,” he chokes out, “no, that can’t be. Loftwings aren’t monsters.”

“But sometimes animals can become monsters when they’re exposed to lots of dark magic over many years, like with wolfos. It would make sense why we’ve never heard of them, right, if they all became, like, kargarocs or something.”

The voices of the others die away to an indistinct hum. Sky thinks he should be concerned about that, except he’s already occupied with the sudden chill against his skin, the way his heart feels simultaneously too large and too small for the space it occupies, straining and racing, the way his lungs burn when he tries to breathe and ache when he doesn’t.

His head hurts.

His heart hurts.

Slowly, the buzzing fades.

“If we find a unicorn, do you think we can smuggle it back to my Hyrule?” Hyrule is asking.

“The hell do you want one of them for?”

“If they can really purify water, then –”

They’ve moved on from the conversational bomb that had rocked Sky to his foundations. Accepted the explanation without comment or question. To them, it’s just another strange fact about the world, like the way monsters in Wild’s Hyrule will all spring back to life when the moon turns red, or that there’s magic trapped in music. Over time, animals can turn into monsters.

And Sky just – doesn’t know how, doesn’t have the vocabulary to explain to them that loftwings aren’t animals – they’re people.

(He’s never had to explain it before. On Skyloft, everyone knows this, from the smallest child to the most forgetful elder: loftwings are your partner, the other half of your soul. They’re people.

When they can’t even understand that much, how does he even begin to explain how horrifying it is to think of them becoming nothing more than monsters, over the millenia?)

–––

Maybe this time, Sky thinks. Maybe this time the portal will take them home.

To his home, at least. He’s never been away so long before. And his jaunts to the Surface had in no way prepared him for the loneliness of being eras and countries away from his friends and his family and his loftwing. And maybe - maybe with it all close to hand, the feelings at his fingertips - he’ll be able to explain it better to the others. Explain it so they’ll understand.

The saturated colours and faint burr of magic through the earth raise his hopes briefly, but - no. This isn’t Skyloft. Isn’t even the Surface beneath it. It’s - it’s easier to define it by what it isn’t. The Surface has lain untouched by Hylian hands for centuries, ancient and wild. This place - it feels tamer. Steadier. Young, almost, but not in the sense of age - in the sense of, of rawness in its magic. It feels new.

And for all that - he knows the days of Skyloft and her Knights are long behind this place.

“Mine,” announces Four, unknowingly confirming Sky’s thoughts. “We’re not far from Lake Hylia, from the looks of it. Anyone wanna watch Wild go fishing again?”

“Hell yeah!” Wind cheers immediately, over Twilight’s groan of frustration.

“Cub, really -”

Wild brightens. “We should compete! See who can catch the most fish for dinner!”

“Now that’s jus’ not fair, Wild, yer explosions will scare off any fish they don’t kill -”

Always happy to stir the pot, Legend says, “Sounds like a skill issue,” and grins at Twilight’s dark look.

Sitting at the base of a tree - or slumping, more accurately - Sky watches their antics with a quiet gaze and no interest in joining in himself.

He’d known it wasn’t likely. The number of times they’ve gone to a familiar Hyrule are far outnumbered by the times no one can identify, and even then, there’s eight other time periods they could land in. He can’t help the disappointment, is all.

Is this what homesickness feels like?

It kinda sucks. No wonder Wind was so miserable.

He’s drawn from contemplating the pooling unhappiness under his ribcage by Four inching closer, hands tucked behind his back. He looks - nervous. Not like he’s going to try to drag him into the water fight now happening on the lake’s shore, at least. Just uncertain. The smile Sky musters for him is probably not a very good one. “Something up, Four?”

“I, um.” Four rocks on his heels, looking almost uncertain. “I… wanted to show you. Something.”

Sky doesn’t actually want to be left alone with his thoughts, so he nods agreeably and hauls himself to his feet. “Lead the way, then.”

Four takes him far enough into the forest that the shouts and laughter and echoes of Wild’s small explosions fade entirely, before choosing a wide clearing to pause in. “I, um.” Four spins, clasping his hands behind his back again. “I noticed that you - well. When the others were talking about loftwings the other day. You got really upset when they were talking about them becoming monsters, or going extinct.”

Ice shoots through Sky’s heart, freezes over his throat for one critical moment. “Yeah,” he finally rasps. “I don’t - it’s - they don’t -”

Four shakes his head. “It’s okay. You don’t need to explain it. I just wanted to show you -” He fumbles with his pouch, pulls out a child-sized ocarina that’s not quite too small for his hands.

The tune he plays sounds almost like a birdcall.

It’s pleasant, if mournful. Sweet-toned and piping like wind instruments tend to be. Sky wonders why Four had moved them so far away just to play him a short song, and then -

Wingbeats. Loud and unmistakeable.

He startles and looks up as a shadow passes overhead - a shadow too large to be any of the birds of Four’s era - and all he can see is a half-silhouette framed in the sun, but his heart leaps at the familiarity.

And when they land -

A loftwing.

Small, but distinctive: the beak broad and long and golden, the curl of their crest and their tail. Pure white, save the bars of colour across the feathertips - Sky’s never seen one like them and he’s never been so relieved.

“Her name is Zeffa,” Four says, from where he’s half-wrapped around the loftwing’s neck in a hug.

“You never told me you had a loftwing,” Sky breathes, stepping forward to greet them - to greet her, as she reaches out in curious welcome.

Four shrugs, feathers ruffling against his back. “I never knew what they were called. She was always just Zeffa, to me. She came to me when I was eight, in the middle of my first adventure. She saved my life,” he adds, snuggling his face into the side of hers as she ducks down and croons at him.

Sky takes the opportunity to look her over more closely. Definitely smaller than average, but with Four as her rider they’re perfectly proportioned. Her feathers are all clean white, no countershading or freckles or markings except the traditional wing bars, the gold fringed by something he’s never seen before. He’d thought it was a simple deep blue at first but it keeps changing colour as Zeffa shifts and the light hits it in different ways. Green one way, red another; a rainbow trapped in keratin fibre.

Sky can feel the grin creeping across his face; wouldn’t dream of trying to stop. “She suits you.”

Four grins back. He looks so comfortable, standing in the shade of Zeffa’s beak and leaning up against her. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Her mind is different to Crimson’s, all shades of cool water instead of open sky and cloud, but it’s still crystal clear. Greetings, Chosen Hero.

“Been a while since I heard that one.” Been a while since he’d last spoken with a loftwing, for that matter; he hopes he’s not rusty. Hopes she can sense his delight and fondness and gratitude, for the care she shows to Four.

She clacks her beak at him, pleased.

“Do all the loftwings call you that?” Four asks, riveted, and Sky’s heart swells at the knowledge that Four can hear her too.

“Usually just the ones who don’t know me personally, or the ones who are making fun of me.” He steps closer, with her approval.

The top of her head barely clears his own. Taking that into account, Sky thinks her beak is a little smaller, too. She smells of feathers and ozone and rain. She smells like home.

“So loftwings do still exist.”

She regards him with something like sorrow, and his heart drops.

I am the last.

I was born towards the end of your reign; the last true loftwing born to Skyloft. And I knew even then that I would be waiting a long time for my beloved. I was born knowing it.

You grieved that, even then. I was too young to tell you, but I will say now, in hopes you will remember: I do not regret the waiting. They were worth waiting for. She tugs Four’s headband playfully, making him shout in protest when it slips over his eyes.

“How long did you have to wait?” Sky whispers, heart aching. Even if she says - he knows it’s a long, long time between Four’s era and his own.

She shrugs, wings settling back against her sides. Who can say? What is time, and how does it pass? Is it truly waiting, to simply live?

And oh, her personality is shining through - mischief hidden under patience, the glee of being deliberately and annoyingly cryptic. No wonder Four didn’t know what she was. Every attempt to ask was probably met with a riddle until he gave up. Sky finds himself smiling again. Even though it hurts. “You still had to be alone, and for that, I’m sorry.”

There is no fault to claim. All things change. From the kikwi to the zora - as the world changes, all must change with it, or be left behind. She runs her beak through his hair, an attempt at comfort.

Sky buries his face in the side of her neck.

I am the last. But do not grieve us.

Four tugs on his sleeve, breaking the focus of his connection. “C’mon, I wanna - I’ve still got something to show you, Zeffa’s not all of it.”

Sky glances back towards the lake. “Is it far?” They’ve been gone long enough as it is, really, and he doesn’t want the others wasting their time searching for them in a panic.

Four shrugs. “It’s fine. I told Time where we’d be going. C’mon, hop on, it’s not far by air but I wouldn’t wanna walk.” He follows his own advice, clambering up Zeffa’s side with ease and sitting across her shoulders, legs in front of her wings. He doesn’t even seem to notice the lack of saddle.

Why would he? Sky thinks with another pang. Loftwing saddlers haven’t been needed for centuries. Does Four even know they existed? “Are you sure she can carry us both? I’m pretty heavy.”

Four looks offended on Zeffa’s behalf. “She’s not that small! And she’s taken multiple people before!”

I will be fine, your majesty. Zeffa clacks at him, amused.

Sky deliberately does not pay attention to that last part. “If you’re sure I won’t hurt her…”

“You won’t,” says Four, and he’s so confident with him that Sky believes him.

There’s nowhere to jump from so like Four he mounts up on the ground, Four in front and Sky behind. It makes him nervous, riding without a saddle - not because he thinks he’ll fall off, but because what if he hurts her? Crushes her feathers the wrong way, clamps down too tight without leather to buffer the force? And is Four sure she can take off from here, getting airborne is hard enough without carrying so much extra weight -

She turns her head to laugh at him with one large, dark eye.

Her wings spread wide. They’re beautiful in the sunlight, red and green flashing at the edges of her primaries. There’s even some purple in the shadows closest to her body, all four of Four’s tunic colours shining through her wings. Goddess, she fits him so beautifully.

Two steps and a powerful wingbeat and then the air is rushing up around them, catching them like they were already falling, and they’re in the air. It can only have been magic but Sky doesn’t know where it came from; can’t bring himself to care, when the forest is getting smaller and blurrier under their feet and the wind is streaming ice-cold against his face and neck and ears.

Goddess, he’s missed this.

The sky looks so much more beautiful from up here; the clouds like they could be solid enough to walk on (though he knows that’s not true). Laid out beneath them is the kingdom, in lines and squares and patches of colour, abstract and strange. Could he draw a map of this, Sky wonders? Could he figure out where things used to be, if he can find the right landmarks?

Four grins at him over his shoulder, delighted by Sky’s happiness.

True to Four’s word, they’re not in the air long before Zeffa is banking, beginning a descent that for the first time in years makes a pang of disappointment rise in Sky’s gut. Goddess, he wants to go home.

Four lets him jump off when they get close, but doesn’t follow. Sky has a moment of panic before remembering Four definitely has a gliding item, he’s not trapped up there, and then Zeffa’s actually landing with the Hero of the Four Sword still perched on her back. There’s another blast of definitely wind magic as she touches down, cushioning what might otherwise have been a heavy landing. That explains it. Does that happen every time? Is it something Zeffa learned, since there are no sky islands to jump off of here? He’ll have to ask her, later.

“Where are we?” Sky says as Four swings off the loftwing’s back. The ruins they landed in are ancient and unfamiliar, but he thinks - he can almost understand the text carved into stone, if he tilts his head and squints. He doesn’t know this place - it just - echoes, somehow.

“The Fortress of Winds,” Four says. He hasn’t moved from the centre platform, still pressed up against Zeffa as he watches Sky move around. “This is where I first met Zeffa.”

“Uh huh?” Sky’s listening, he swears, but there’s something about the letters on this stone tablet, almost but not-quite the same as his own. If he squints just a little - no, maybe this way -?

Four comes over to tug on his sleeve again. “C’mere, I think you’re moving too much.”

They both sit in the shade thrown by Zeffa, as she spreads her wings to sunbathe.

“Are we waiting for something?”

“Shhhh,” is all Four says in response.

Sky gives up and settles in. With Zeffa’s wing breaking the worst of the wind, and her dusty feather-smell surrounding him, Sky’s the most relaxed he’s been in weeks.

Then he starts to hear something.

High-pitched chitters and whistles, the beating of small wings. Four had said there were no monsters left in the fortress, but that sure sounded like keese to Sky. Slowly, so as not to attract attention, he turns his head to peer around the edge of Zeffa’s wing.

His heart leaps into his throat and stays there.

Birds. Brightly coloured, greens and blues and oranges, perching on the rockwork and hopping around the lichen-covered floor.

Their beaks are short and sharply curved. They’ve lost the long, flexible tails that streamed out behind them in flight, replaced by a fan of feathers that seems impractically small. The feather banding is missing, the white and gold of the goddess and the contrasting partner flashings.

And of course, they’re tiny. Small enough to sit on an outstretched arm; the smallest could sit on his hand.

But the crests are still there, three wispy, curling feathers on the back of the skull that flex and stretch as they chatter amongst themselves. There’s still a flash of intelligence in their small, dark eyes. The nearest hops closer and chirps in greeting, and he feels a press of joy! and welcome! and sneaky, mischievous play? Play! Play with us!

Sky doesn’t realise he’s crying until the tears spill over in hot rivers. Four shoots him a worried look.

“They’re still here,” he chokes out, and smiles.

After everything, the loftwings are still here.

[katyspersonal]

What bothers me about SOTE hate/"critique" is how reactionary a lot of it was. It feels like, rather than most players coming to their own conclusions and taking it in themselves, many of them were spoiled by the leaks beforehand, absorbed negativity from the former that clouded their view of the experience, or refused to let go of the preconceptions they formed on the lore for 2 years (Miquella especially).

Not to mention the difficulty discourse, but that's nothing new for these games.

Do you feel this is also the case? Obviously not everyone who wasn't happy with the DLC falls under this. There was a LOT of hype for SOTE, it makes sense that would have backfired.

I also feel like something similar is happening with Nightreign and the Duskbloods too, but from the perspective that From is now 'betraying' its audience. Whether or not those deserve the scrutiny is another discussion, and its too early to tell anyway. Food for thought though.

Oooohhh boy, oveblown reaction to SOTE based on the leaks and absorbing emotions through the broken telephone game? This brings back memories. xD

I slightly fell for that one myself, except that was my own fault, it wasn't that I got jumpscared by a spoiler. I'd take my sweet time playing SOTE because of work. But over two years in the fandom, I was getting extremely fed up with certain type of straight up cultlike Miquella "fans". It was so, so, SO tiring to have to share the fandom with the guys who claimed that giving any nuance or flawed interpretation to Miquella was DiSrEsPeCtFuL >:( . They were, ironically for worshipping the one-dimensional perfect innocent all-accepting sunshine boy version of Miquella, really unaccepting and toxic themselves. Not to mention that the guy who had the guts to call me "friend" literally blocked me forever, without any attempt at resolving the conflict, over this shit. I was fed up with the Ledas over all that time. I was livid.

So, when my friend that could not play Elden Ring went to watch first reactions, I just wanted a spoiler. I just wanted to know whether those people would FINALLY explode after terrorising the fandom for the crime of different interpretations of a (frankly) tangling character. So I just asked her to spoiler to me: "Is Miquella as good as they all insisted, or not?" So, when it turned out that Mohg was charmed and there was something going on about 'falling from grace', I had only one reaction to offer:

....except not really, because that same day but later, a strong disappointment wormed its way in my perception and I kept internally screaming at how random the ship was all for The Reference TM and how Malenia was kinda done dirty (both by Miquella as a character and by writers regarding her role in the story).

dsnhfdgsdgf Sorry this is just really funny to me in retrospective. A few seconds of unhinged JOY of sticking it to the toxic fans + the fake """friend""" were really not worth it

And since I got my spoilers already, I stopped avoiding seeing things on my dashboard... so, as I only had very few pieces of the puzzle and only was yet to fully see to new lore to myself, I kept seeing takes like how "they made Griffith Miquella real", "Mohg has beaten allegations", "they've ruined all meaning of Radahn's battle" and so on. Absorbing all info through strong reactions was contagious for me too! I vividly remember how much I kept trying to enjoy playing SOTE, but the knowledge about RadMiq jumpscare and disappointment in how Malenia got treated constantly derived my attention and kept feeling like:

It took me like, a month to properly digest that information. Like, my mind actually was strained trying to think of a reasoning for Radahn making a return like this or how to tie all new facts together seamlessly. It was like fandomry equivalent of a bleeding wound that took its sweet time to form into a scar already fdshfds It took me some effort and time to go back in the base game and notice why "should have been Godwyn" made no sense, how there was a merit in violating Radahn's agency like this and Miquella not getting over a much younger version of Radahn that no longer exists, how Mohg "still did all that other shit tho" and kidnapping was his conscious choice. I asked my friend to RP with me Miquella and Radahn arguing about him breaking a dumb unserious vow from childhood to get more accustomed to the idea of them being so close, I started to humour the situation, all that.

The thing is, I myself was also working with the 'spoilered' form of information, so this is why it was so hard for me. I was digesting not only what was in the game, but also believable summaries and promises of timeline and characters being ruined! SO yeah, I definitely believe how much harder the spoilers made to learn the new lore through playing SOTE, when every piece of dialogue and every description was taken through the filter of knowing where it was going. And then when I actually compiled all new information myself, turned out it was not that bad. 🤦‍♂️ And that's how I've changed from someone being sorely disappointed by Miquella's arc to such a big fan of SOTE that I've written large essay arguing against every single point the haters made XD

_______________

As for Nightreign and Duskbloods... Yeah, I feel like people's reaction is a little overblown. Like, just because Fromsoft made a decision to do Elden Ring Fortnite + make another exclusive for a platform only like 20 people can affort doesn't mean that they will betray their principles of storytelling, worlbuilding and creating characters!

At the same time, the whole Dark Souls trilogy and Elden Ring are about how every era, no matter how bustling and beloved, should come to death eventually, and holding onto it leads to rot and stagnation that does even more harm than this death. So, if the corporative brainrot finally came to take my favourite devs, it would be hypocritical to rebel against it and insist on their "duty" to keep making the same masterpiece over and over for all eternity, right? x) It might be to the better in the long run if the slop era takes them. Either they will be reborn like a phoenix in several years, or a worthy competitor will take their place. Still, Fromsoft taught us for over a decade that these outcomes are better than stagnation, so accepting the incoming ruin is what they would have wanted, probably.

[melkyt]

Switching it up lol.

Immortal!Law/Seraphim!Luffy - Major character death

The king of the pirates achieved his goal, lived a good life surrounded by those that he cared for, and in time, he passed away.

Law thought that he would follow him soon, but the immortality surgery happened to be something that one has to give away. Until then, they will live forever. Law lost his chance to give it to the man he loved and never said, nobody else ever seemed worthy to give his life for. Which is the prerequisite of being able to use the surgery, *devotion*. So he wanders for a long time, helping people, curing diseases, making sure the world Luffy left behind is safe.

He sometimes visits islands that is under the strawhats protection, even after Luffy's death, his fleet, his friends still keep a presence. Zoro is set on keeping order as long as he can. Law's next stop is egghead, after the events that happened there, it is slowly being fixed up and getting back to what it was. He likes hearing the stories of what the strawhats pulled here decades ago.

Law is sitting at the bar, talking to someone who recognized him, and was around back then. Its a peaceful, quiet chat. Law doesnt quite pay attention as he sips from his drink and lets his mind slow down for once.

That is when he sees a form across the crowded street. Familar curls, eyes filled with joy, laughter that rungs above everyone elses.

"Luffy!" Law is up and shouting his name before he can think, striding closer.

And they turn, looking a little confused, large wings fluttering as they open. There is a flash of memory in the seraphims eyes, or maybe Law imagines it. This close, he can see that they are differences, no scar, the smile more hesitant at the corners of his mouth, the stark white hair of the Nika form.

The one next to him is a seraphim version of Zoro, ofcourse he wouldn't leave his captain, even in a situation like this.

"My mistake" Law takes a deep, steadying breath. It's not Luffy. It is one of the clones that have been stirring trouble the last few years. If he paid more attention to the news, he wouldn't be caught unaware now.

S-Luffy blinks, tilting his head. "Wait, you're Trafalgar Law!I wanna ask you things!"

Law flinches, Luffy only called him by his name once or twice, when they were arguing. It brings back memories he doesn't want to face. He shouldn't have shouted, it is time to leave.

The seraphim moves faster than him, flying over the crowd and landing with a heavy thud of machinery that sustains his body. "Don't run, I just wanna talk about previous me!"

"No" Law turns and walks in a different direction. It is too much to see Luffy there as a different man, one he can't hold and whisper how much Law missed him.

The clone cant take no for answer, just like the original Luffy. Genetic memory goes hard in this case.

He follows after with a million questions and never stops talking. It eventually works as Law's determination and resistance falters in the light of Luffy's enthusiasm as it always does. He sits down in some back alley and starts answering them.

They talk well into the night and for days after. Neither have to sleep, eat, or drink if they dont want to. Law wants to spend as much time as he can get before forgetting that the clone exists. it's not his Luffy.

After S-Luffy runs out of questions to ask, he doesnt want to leave Law either, and he wont.

Que S-Luffy coming up with random reasons, random things for Law to do as a doctor and a lover of information, until he has a house on egghead and doesn't even think of leaving. Domestic shenanigans ensue as the two immortals try to figure out where they stand with the memory of the original Luffy being the thing that connects them and a standard that is impossible to match up to. Law finds that his love for S-Luffy is different, built in moments of peace, and cant be blamed on adrenaline which is what he did all those years ago when he did not want to face his feelings.

-end-

Check out The Lawlu Whumptober Event I'm Hosting

[piratefishmama]

Everything wrong with the liveaction Avatar and WHY.

in my own personal opinion that nobody need agree with me on.

Zuko fought back in the Agni Kai against his father.

Okay so, so far, there's been a lot of people trying to explain why this was wrong with the very limited space on twitter, i'm going to do it here, on tumblr, where i have unlimited space, whee. In the original show, Zuko, with pure terror in his heart, got down on his knees, begged, and pleaded for forgiveness that his father would not give, before being burned and banished for his weakness and disrespect. This gave the audience the impression that Ozai was fucking terrifying. His power was beyond comprehension, and he was so scary that his own son, his own progeny, would still be TOO AFRAID of him, to even dare cross him. Even at the cost of his honour. Ozai wouldn't even grant mercy to his own terrified son, scarring his face, a part of Zuko that he could never hide, so everyone would forever see the proof of Zuko's dishonour and shame. Ozai was awful. In every single way, but he was also terrifying. The Live Action version had Zuko fighting back. Not only did it have him fighting back, it also had him obtain an actual chance to win that fight. Now, an Agni Kai, is a fight between firebenders where the first person to be burned, loses. Undoubtedly, Ozai had many oppportunities to burn his son from the get go, but for a brief moment, Zuko has the upper hand, right here

It's right here, that Zuko could have won an Agni Kai against his father, the firelord, and big bad of the entire series, right out of the gate, before he'd even hit adulthood. Pathetic. Dont get me wrong, it's a cool scene, but it greatly diminishes how scary Ozai is supposed to be. Zuko has the strength to fight back, he's scared, but he's not paralyzed with fear, he's able to fight back, and damn near almost WIN. Shit's pathetic. Ozai almost got his shit rocked by a teenager. Who isnt even the avatar. Cartoon Ozai was a terrifying monster who had the actual avatar so scared he was having recurring nightmares about rocking up to the big fight without pants, this dude's just a terrible father with superpowers.

The Face Stealer Koh

In the original cartoon, Koh was introduced as a spirit old enough to know who and what the real world forms of the ocean and moon spirit were. A creepy stealer of faces who hunted by causing reactions in people. Stealing their faces wouldnt kill them, they just. Wouldnt have a face. In the live action, he appears in the 'Hei Bai' episode and hunts in the fog of lost souls, y'know, the place in Korra where lost souls get stuck in their worst memories? Then he cocoons them, and eats their faces. Like, full on eats them. And for some reason he was the one who grabbed the lost villagers in the Hei Bai episode, not Hei Bai. It's weird. Pretty sure one of them maybe got eaten, idk. Unclear. Gross and unclear.

Hei Bai plothole

Not so much a plothole as just... something missing. Hei Bai is seen in his 'distressed spirit' form, he's seen, his pain and distress is acknowledged multiple times, and the reason why he's distressed is seen, but he's never shown to be soothed. Aang buries an acorn in the ground near his damaged statue, but it never shows Hei Bai being soothed. In the cartoon he had to be handed the acorn to see it, to understand the implication and be calmed, if just burying an acorn in the ground would have worked, he'd have never been upset, because he'd have been able to see it himself in the ruins of the forest with there being acorns all over the place.

Wan Shi Tong cameo in Hei bai's foggy spirit forest

Dude why tf are you out of your library? Your foxes venture out into the world to find you things, get back to your library, what the hell r u doin out there?

WE DIDNT NEED TO SEE THE AIR NOMAD GENOCIDE

WE DIDN'T NEED TO SEE THE AIR NOMAD GENOCIDE

Gyatso's underwhelming skeletal remains.

In the cartoon they found him surrounded by dead firebender soldiers, having solo'd a ton of them by himself, an old man, a monk, all on his own. Giving the impression that either he fought them off until he fell, or he removed out the air in the room suffocating them all and himself. Both entirely badass ways to go. In the live action the firelord walks through his frankly impressive wall of airbending in a cool 'oo i'm on fire' trick, and burns him alive in front of a bunch of air nation children. The fucking dishonour on your whole goddamn family whoever decided upon that scene, jesus christ.

Azula wasn't scary

She was just... meh.

The Only Good Thing About the Avatar Live Action series.

Big spirit fish go brr.

[thatsallshewrot3]

So for some reason all my favorite characters have to suffer 🤷🏼‍♀️ anyway, here’s mostly angsty fanfic prompts, but I promise there’s. Few fun and chaotic ones in here too!!!

Im a sucker for Peter/Harley and anything with Tony and Steve being fatherly 🥰

1. Premise:

After a mission gone wrong, Peter is left comatose. But his mind is trapped—aware but unable to move, speak, or escape the flashbacks Hydra left behind.

The team thinks he’s peacefully unconscious. He’s actually reliving his worst memories over and over.

Angst Twist:

Tony builds a machine to enter Peter’s mind to “say goodbye.” Instead, he finds Peter screaming for help.

They have to fight to bring him back—before he loses himself forever.

2. Premise:

After a Hydra tech malfunction, Peter’s mind gets split in two: Spider-Man and Peter Parker.

Spider-Man is ruthless, cold, efficient.

Peter is emotional, scared, desperate for help.

Angst Twist:

The team has to talk to Peter through mirror reflections, while Spider-Man takes over his body and refuses to let them help.

The Avengers are terrified they’ll lose the real Peter permanently.

3. Premise:

During a mission gone wrong, Peter is struck by an experimental sonic weapon.

Physically, he’s fine.

But now, he can’t hear anything.

Angst Twist:

He’s completely deaf—and the silence becomes suffocating. Peter starts withdrawing, struggling to adapt, convinced he’s no longer useful to the team.

The others try to help, but he won’t let them in.

4. Premise:

Peter gets caught in an explosion. The team buries him. They mourn him.

Three months later, they find him alive—scarred, limping, and held captive.

Angst Twist:

He remembers the funeral. Hydra showed it to him on loop. Told him no one came looking.

And worst of all?

They didn’t.

5. Premise:

Peter’s captured and replaced by a shapeshifter. The team doesn’t notice.

The real Peter escapes months later—but he doesn’t go to the Tower.

He goes to a safehouse. Alone.

Angst Twist:

He thinks they never wanted him—they wanted the obedient version.

He starts planning to disappear for good.

Then Clint finds him.

6. Premise:

After a mission injury, Peter loses the ability to speak.

At first, he tries to smile. Laugh it off.

But the silence becomes isolating.

Angst Twist:

He overhears the team talking about how quiet things are now.

He thinks they like it better that way.

7. Premise:

Peter is exposed to a chemical that forces him to relive his worst fear.

He collapses, shaking, unresponsive.

Angst Twist:

What does he see?

Not death.

Not pain.

Just the entire team walking away—cold, distant

8. Premise:

Peter’s suit gets shredded during a fight.

He passes out in the medbay, and when Bruce removes the suit, they see it.

Scars.

So many scars.

Angst Twist:

Some are old. From before Spider-Man.

Steve recognizes the kind you don’t get from battle.

And Peter wakes up begging them not to be mad.

“I stopped. I swear I stopped.”

9. Premise:

After an argument, the team stops talking to Peter.

They don’t mean to ignore him—just need space.

Peter thinks he’s being punished.

Angst Twist:

He goes days without speaking. Barely eats. Barely sleeps.

Tony finds him curled up in the workshop, shaking.

“Are you mad at me forever, or just until I’m gone?”

10. Premise:

Everyone goes off-world for a mission.

Peter stays behind to protect Earth.

Weeks pass.

No contact. No backup.

Angst Twist:

He thinks they’re dead.

Fights alone. Loses pieces of himself.

When they return, he’s unrecognizable. Cold. Quiet. Tired.

11. Premise:

Peter stumbles across a storage facility with Hydra equipment.

He finds a file with his name.

A number.

Pictures from before the spider.

Angst Twist:

The spider wasn’t an accident.

They bred it for him.

The Avengers had no idea. But now Peter’s not sure his life was ever really his.

12. Premise:

Someone leaks Peter’s medical files to the public.

His injuries. His therapy notes.

His trauma.

Angst Twist:

People mock him online. He spirals.

The team tries to reassure him, but he’s already deleted everything on his phone.

Except a single text to Tony he never sent:

“Am I still worth loving if I’m this broken?”

13. Premise:

Hydra left something behind in Peter.

A chip. A trigger. A command sequence.

Angst Twist:

It activates.

And he tries to claw it out of his spine before he hurts anyone.

The team has to restrain him as he screams

14. Premise:

Peter stops a building from collapsing—literally holds the supports up until civilians escape.

His arms are shaking. He’s bleeding.

But he does it.

Angst Twist:

The team praises the mission.

But no one asks how it was saved.

Not until later, when Harley finds Peter’s hands—torn, trembling, unable to hold a spoon.

15. Premise:

The team hears Peter over comms, steady and brave—guiding civilians, distracting enemies.

But something’s off.

Too calm.

Angst Twist:

They find him barely alive.

He was hit first. Bad.

He was bleeding out the whole time.

But he stayed on mic until the end, voice unwavering.

16. Premise:

Peter stitches his own wounds.

Not because no one will help—but because he doesn’t want to ask.

Angst Twist:

Harley finds a drawer in Peter’s room.

Scissors. Thread. Bandages.

17. Premise:

Peter finds documents about the radioactive spider.

It wasn’t the first.

It was version 8.

Angst Twist:

Versions 1–7 all died in trials.

So did the kids they bit.

Peter was the only one who survived.

And Oscorp tried to recover him before he “spoiled.”

18. Premise:

Oscorp hijacks the Tower’s systems.

Every screen flickers.

Then:

Peter.

Chained to a table, thrashing, screaming.

Angst Twist:

The footage is live.

The Avengers are helpless.

He’s screaming for them. For Tony.

And Tony has to sit there—watching the kid who calls him “Dad” beg

19. Premise:

Peter’s grounded.

Tony says no patrol.

So Peter tries to sneak out.

Steve, Natasha, Clint, and Bucky each take turns “babysitting” him.

Chaos Ensues:

• Steve teaches Peter how to cheat at poker

• Nat lets him sneak out… and follows him in stealth mode

• Bucky duct-tapes him to the couch (and still loses him)

• Clint just naps and says, “If you die, don’t tell me.”

Eventually, Peter ends up saving someone anyway… and gets more grounded.

20. Premise:

Peter challenges the Avengers to a baking contest.

Everyone takes it way too seriously.

Highlights Include:

• Bucky trying to assassinate Clint with ghost pepper brownies

• Natasha using edible glitter like it’s a threat

• Harley and Peter turning the lab into a cookie factory

• Tony setting off the fire alarms with a “plasma-fusion soufflé”

Steve wins with banana bread. Peter calls rigged.

21. Premise:

Peter introduces the team to Dungeons & Dragons.

Highlights Include:

• Tony is chaotic neutral and immediately betrays Steve

• Clint plays a bard who seduces everyone

• Sam won’t stop trying to “punch the wizard”

• Natasha rolls nat-20s like it’s a threat

• Bucky’s character is a traumatized rogue with trust issues

Peter?

He’s the dungeon master.

And he’s terrifyingly good at it.

22. Premise:

Peter forgets his own birthday.

He’s so used to brushing it off, especially after May died, that it doesn’t even register.

Angst-Fluff Twist:

The Avengers don’t forget.

Tony puts the day off-limits on every Stark calendar.

Steve bakes a cake (badly).

Natasha gets him a knife he’s absolutely not allowed to carry.

When Peter walks in and sees “Happy Birthday, Webhead” spelled wrong on a banner…

23. Premise:

Peter misses movie night.

They find him in the medbay with a bruised rib and a black eye.

He was cornered. Again. By Flash.

Said it wasn’t “worth making a big deal.”

Clint is already halfway out the door.

24. Premise:

Peter hasn’t smiled in weeks.

He says he’s fine. He still shows up.

But the spark’s gone.

And one night, Tony catches him sitting on the roof.

Rain pouring. Just… sitting.

25. Premise:

Peter vs Harley vs Clint in an ugly Christmas sweater battle.

Tony funds it.

Natasha judges.

Steve is forced into elf ears.

Peter wins when his sweater plays “All I Want for Christmas Is You” every time he moves.

Chaos.

Laughter.

Snowball fight breaks out.

Nat declares herself Sweater Dictator and bans glitter.

Peter’s laugh echoes through the compound.

26. Premise:

Steve makes everyone write something they’re thankful for.

They all grumble.

Until Peter reads his:

“I’m thankful I didn’t give up when it got bad. Because now I have a family again.”

Everyone’s dead silent.

Even Tony wipes at his eyes.

Then Harley throws a roll at Clint to break the tension.

27. Premise:

Peter doesn’t send invites. Doesn’t ask.

He assumes they’re all too busy.

Graduation day, he sits alone in the bleachers, wearing his cap, watching other kids’ families cheer.

Then he hears it.

“LET’S GO, PETER!”

“THAT’S MY SON!”

“WOO! VAL-E-DORK-TORIAN!”

He looks up.

Entire Avengers team in the stands.

• Tony holding a massive “PROUD DAD” banner

• Steve standing next to him, holding tissues

• Nat in all black, sunglasses on, still smiling

• Clint with an airhorn

• Sam and Bucky screaming

• Harley yelling “THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND!”

Peter bursts into tears.

28. Premise:

They tried to blend in.

They tried to behave.

They failed.

• Bucky glares at anyone who cheers louder than them

• Nat wears a black “Peter’s Fan Club” hoodie

• Steve holds a “Proud Dad” sign the size of a bus

• Tony hacks the jumbotron to show a live feed of Peter’s face

• Sam shows up in his own cap and gown and pretends to graduate too

Peter: “I wanted a normal graduation.”

Tony: “You’re Spider-Man. That ship sailed, bug.”

29. Premise:

Peter disappears for months after a mission goes wrong.

When the Avengers find him, he’s a ghost of himself—emotionless, cold, Hydra’s puppet.

It takes every ounce of patience and love from the team to bring him back.

30. Premise:

Hydra kept Peter in a cryogenic pod for months.

Time froze for him.

But he was conscious the whole time.

Trapped in his own mind. No light. No sound. Just memories and hallucinations.

He wakes up screaming.

The team doesn’t know how to help.

Until Bucky sits with him

31. Premise:

Peter gets trapped in a mirror maze built by Mysterio — real and virtual.

He sees versions of himself:

• Hydra soldier.

• Broken child.

• Murderer.

• Coward.

• Clone.

Each one taunts him.

Each one reflects his worst fears.

32. Premise:

Peter starts skipping meals.

One turns into two.

Then it’s just coffee.

Then nothing at all.

Everyone assumes he’s just busy. Tired. Distracted.

Until Natasha catches him in the kitchen — swaying on his feet, eyes sunken, hands shaking as he opens the fridge and closes it again. Over and over. Unable to let himself eat.

33. Premise:

Peter is kidnapped off the street — grabbed mid-patrol after a rough mission, exhausted and alone.

He’s cuffed. Collared. Drugged. Transported in silence.

He wakes up in a shipping container surrounded by others, most of them younger. All silent.

They’re not being rescued.

They’re being auctioned.

“One male, enhanced. Spider mutation. Intelligent. Loyal under pressure. Responsive to pain.”

“Item 23: Project Arachnid.”

The highest bidder?

The Red Room.

34. Premise:

A mind control virus hits the tower.

Everyone’s infected.

Everyone but Peter.

They turn on each other. On him.

He refuses to fight back.

Even when Bucky throws him into a wall. Even when Nat dislocates his arm.

He disables them one by one — without hurting them — until the antidote is ready.

And when they wake, it’s to a battered, bleeding, unconscious Peter

35. Premise:

Peter figures out the villain’s plan early.

He knows the only way to stop it is to go dark.

He fakes a fight. Leaves the team. Works alone. Sabotages the plan from the inside.

No one knows.

Not until they find footage weeks later of Peter single-handedly dismantling a Hydra base.

“Why didn’t he tell us?”

“Because we would’ve stopped him.”

36. Premise:

Peter was trained by Hydra before becoming a hero — a fact he’s hidden for years.

When the Avengers are captured and locked in a facility with no way out, Peter remembers everything.

Because he was made to escape places like this.

He turns off the “kid” persona.

Moves like a ghost.

Kills like a weapon.

Then the team sees him drenched in blood, unlocking their cells

37. Premise:

The Avengers are trapped underground.

Peter is the only one conscious after the cave-in.

He claws through stone with bleeding hands.

Holds beams up with shattered ribs.

Keeps them breathing, one by one, while slowly running out of air himself.

By the time help arrives, Peter’s collapsed with dirt in his lungs and blood in his mouth.

38. Premise:

The team watches CCTV footage of a disaster site they missed — bodies everywhere, wreckage burning.

But then one figure appears.

Alone.

Small.

Bleeding.

Peter.

He holds off twenty armed soldiers. Fights until his knuckles split open. Protects a group of civilians like it’s the only thing that matters.

Steve says nothing.

Tony doesn’t breathe.

39. Premise:

Right after Mysterio died, Peter tried to tell someone what happened.

They brushed him off. Said it was handled.

That he was fine.

The team doesn’t find out until months later.

By then, the trauma has rotted inside him.

He’s still terrified of illusions. Of being tricked. Of not knowing what’s real.

[surge-the-tenrec]

lil bit eel (ill) thinking abt a prime!rossum and shadow.

mainverse rossum would be introduced just before shadow goes to fight sonic, they'd be kinda playful with him and he just rebuffs them, and when he looks to go off to fight sonic theyre kinda like "you know. you two would probably get along if you actually listened to each other" and shadow brushes them off (him and sonic? friends? not even if the universe was ending)

new yolk rossum is my favvvvv forever forever. had this idea when the first season dropped. sonic spends his time being chased by some masked geeser working for the eggmans. sonic assumes theyre a robot but once he figures out its a hedgehog hes like "ohhh this must be this universes shadow. ill have to get around to redeeming him at some point." except. during one of their fights he knocks the top half of their mask off. and its rossum. nine gets annoyed at sonic bcs sonics refusing to fight them now ("rossum wouldn't hurt anybody ! something has to be wrong."). sonic finds out the eggmen are keeping them under their control by using a shock collar and hes pissed, but is thrown out before he can do anything abt it. i like the idea of this version of them being called 'major'

(the rest of them r silly tho .)

boscage is pansy. shes kinda . dopey. hides behind her friends a lot. doesnt seem to know whats going on. Extremely shy. doesnt really care abt the actual issue, just wants everyone to get along.

no place ross (starboard) is a suck upppp. they follow everything dread tells them to do, never had a single thought of their own. he seems really happy but hes actually just kinda scared. i think if shadow got to meet the counterparts this one would annoy him the most. for sonics part he just thinks its. weird. he doesnt like it.

ghost hill rossum is repeating the "you know. you two would probably get along if you actually listened to each other" line . shadow hears it and is Visibly Upset. and a lil angery

alpha grim rossum is just a robot. like the rest of them.

scene in my head that inspired this post is during the Big Climax Fight shadow gets knocked into major and the two of them are kinda out of the range of the fight for a sec. he glances at them before he turns back to the fight but they fuckin . growl at him and he turns around, annoyed at first but like...

as much as shadow is playing the whole 'these r just cruel reflections of our friends to taunt us. theyre not real.". .... he looks at them , and thats still his little sibling. and theyre so scared and hurt and you see his face drop as he reaches a hand out . and major flinches. bcs every time someones reached out to them it was to hurt them.

and shadow is like. hurt by this. but he steadies himself and continues reaching forwards. his hand touches the remaining half of their mask and he softly says "its alright, im not going to hurt you." as he removes it.

and major's face has all these scars, their fangs are overgrown and scary but theyre so curled in on themself and hiding behind their quill and small. they look up at shadow and they see something they recognise.

"....kin?"

and he affirms . "kin."

anyways prime shadows character arc is learns to be nice to his annoying little sister thats the post.

[laurwriter]

Possessive

Author’s Note: Some of this is real, some of this is altered purely to protect both my own identity and the identity of those mentioned. Content warning for abusive themes and mentions.

My body is not my own. Ultimately, the possessive of ‘my’ implies it belongs to me and me alone, yet clearly it does not. If someone could hurt me the way I’ve been hurt, I am not my own. I belong to the world; I belong to others, who do as they bid; I belong to society. 

After all, people are the most unkind to the things they own. 

Mirrors are frightening creatures. The idea of one’s reflection judging; flaws on show, everything you dislike laughing in your face while the few bearable qualities shy away. Nothing good comes from judgement, of yourself or others, so inevitably the only result of a mirror is a spiral. But now when I look in the mirror, I see all flaws, and some scars: new, old, big, small. Invisible to everyone else, but clear as day to me. Fingerprints scattered all over me; nail marks clawed into my thighs, my stomach; bruises across my face. Here is where it gets personal. Here is the only instance in which my body is my body, for I’m the only one dealing with the consequences. 

It only took a couple of months for my therapist to decipher that I had grown up surrounded by cruel boys, cruel men, cruel men disguised as cruel boys. Her job is to be monotonous in expression, but even her eyes widened when I told her about my life as a thirteen-year-old girl: the abuse, the harm, the ignorance of those around me, the silent screams erupting from my oesophagus. It got worse when I was sixteen, with another boy who was equally as harsh on me. My first ‘adult’ relationship, I thought at the time. I felt so grown up, so ready for the adult world to sweep me away, yet what faced me was bruised legs, infantilisation, mistrust. He would look at me, describe me as “the type of girl that guys fuck, but never date”, yet promise to be my forever. When you’re young, you ignore the signs to pursue your fleeting fantasies, yet the older version of yourself is the one who deals with the aftermath.

It was at that point that I realised where I slotted in society: my destiny wasn’t to be craved, adored, to have someone hold my hand down the street, or buy me flowers. My destiny was to be used, to be thrown away once my worth had vanished. And if I was even the smallest bit as powerful as the women in the novels I read now, I would change my destiny, become the woman who deserved the flowers, the handholding, the adoration, to be craved. But in a world where power goes to those born with it, my ability to change my fate was never there. It had faded the moment I was born a woman in a world still run by men. 

I still had the word ‘teen’ in my age. 

When these boys came and went, I was still a teenager – scalded forever by life, forced to come to terms with everything as an adult. 

By the time I had finished mapping out the life I had lived, my therapist just started writing in her notebook. What she wrote, I’m not sure, but the only words to leave her mouth were, “I’m sorry for what you went through”. 

When I opened my front door, all I could do was slump to the floor. It was six in the evening, and for the next four hours my back was to the door. 

My therapist and I worked on improving my present to compensate for the past. She gave me advice, told me to be more assertive, put myself out there more. I decided that dating was too hard, too traumatising, so I opted to focus on myself, myself exclusively: I found myself embracing the company of cafes and bookstores, reading books about powerful women to make myself feel just a sliver equal to them. 

What infuriated me is that they always had someone to call ‘theirs’ by the end of the novel, a man who would sweep them off their feet, kiss them under the moonlight, worship them for the salvation they brought to the land. 

And yes, these men were tall, handsome, ultimately good people once the initially grey moral code was ‘solved’. But they weren’t real. 

Real men treated me like an object, a personal punching bag. Real men told me that I was unworthy of their affection, that I was lucky to have them, that I was rude, cruel, difficult to love, but still theirs. 

The woman in the mirror is still broken when I look at her, the scars white yet deep, the marks purple and green, like mould, on my face, my legs, my stomach. I try to push out the thoughts of how much weight I’ve gained, how my stomach is fatter, my thighs are bigger, thus making the marks even more prominent than they were when I first got them. 

I look at my body, and I’m ashamed that I’m still thinking about the fact that no man could love me. 

I wish I could look at myself and not think about other people, even just for a second.  

All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, copied, distributed or adapted in any way, with the exception of certain activities permitted by applicable copyright laws, such as brief quotations in the context of a review or academic work. For permission to publish, distribute or otherwise reproduce this work, please contact the author.