#her magical education was maybe not the best

[drysia]

So I'm putting actual effort into my replay now and looking at things. For my whole first run I had my head glammed to the giant realistic Crow head because...well, it'd be funny even though I had it turned off for cutscenes. Like, imagine, after the first quests in Treviso Rook is like, aw yeah, I can finally after a year dress like a Crow (and thus become Viago's best PR machine as she saves the world.) and that's what she chose.

I've head cannoned that this originally was my Rook's gear. It's what she wore during the whole Antaam fiasco that got her temporarily exiled so there was no way to deny it was one of the Crows that did it. Viago sold it after Rook left with Varric out of...I don't know anger? Annoyance (Maybe he always hated the damn thing, couldn't Rook wear a normal crow mask?)

Rook sees her favorite mask for sale and obviously buys it back. As I was buying it this time, though, I finally paid attention to the flavor text.

Now obviously this could just be something that's been made up, the stuff about the spirit. Some over the top lore Rook made up, or was made up about it by Viago to sell the ugly thing, or a brand new legend attached to it by the starry eyes fledglings that don't think Rook's actions warranted an exile, but they can't say that part out loud.

But what if there is a spirit hanging out in that feathery little headgear after all. Tossing and turning it in my brain, thinking about what kind of spirit could be hanging out there. Another reason for Spite to like Rook, she also has a spirit friend even if its quiet. Manfred having one of his first words be "Rook!" because another spirit already vouched for her when they met.

[cruel-seduction]

Beyond Fears 

Summary - With the biggest exam of your life coming up, stress is eating you alive—but Mattheo refuses to let it win. He’ll do whatever it takes to pull you out of your own head, even if it means causing a little chaos. But when the truth behind your fear comes out, he’s ready to remind you of one thing—no matter what happens, he’s not going anywhere.

Content Warning - Suggestive theme and Curse words. 

Glimpse - “And as for your stupid little fear that I’ll find someone else—ugh, babe, do you think I’m insane? That my brain is rotting?” His lips twitched into a smirk before softening again. “Do you think I’d willingly trade you—the love of my fucking life, the only person who actually laughs at my dumb jokes, the only one who knows exactly how I like my coffee, the only soul on this godforsaken planet who makes me feel like I belong—for anyone else?” His voice was raw now, honest in a way that made your chest ache.

His forehead pressed against yours, his nose brushing yours as he whispered, “Baby, there is no one else. There never will be.”

a/n -Hello, my certified cutie red flags!! Divider Credit goes to @bernardsbendystraws. And also I wrote this based of on a scene from my fav show. Cause I needed to do crying reader over valid reason and this seem like best. And she does portrays that she is strong. but Mattheo is Mattheo bro.

Requested by @jarjarbinks-har-har

Mattheo could feel the tension rolling off you from a mile away—thick, restless, electric. Anxiety coiled around your frame like an iron grip, tightening with every breath you took. The upcoming exam loomed over you like a storm cloud, its weight pressing down on you with an unbearable force. If you passed, you’d be the youngest woman in history to earn a seat at one of the most prestigious higher education institutions for witches and wizards. The pressure was suffocating, an invisible noose tightening around your throat.

You weren’t the only one feeling it. Mattheo was tense too, but not because of the exam. No, he was wound up because of you—because your stress became his stress, your suffering bled into him like an open wound. He’d tried everything to ease your nerves. He took you to your favorite coffee shop, bought you anything you wanted, even tried distracting you with jokes and stolen kisses—but nothing worked. You were drowning in books, lost in your relentless pursuit of perfection, and no amount of comfort could pull you out.

Eighteen hours. That’s how long you had gone without sleep. Maybe more. You were running purely on caffeine and raw determination, your veins practically humming with exhaustion. Dark circles didn’t just shadow your eyes—they owned your face, carved into your skin like permanent bruises. At night, you sang old traditional songs in a hollow, eerie voice, studying by torchlight like some deranged scholar possessed by ancient magic. Your roommates had given up on you, groaning in frustration as your muttered revisions carried into the early hours. Even when Mattheo convinced you to crash in his dorm, you never truly rested. You just laid there beside him, whispering formulas, theories, and incantations under your breath, your fingers tracing invisible notes on his skin. It was getting out of hand.

Mattheo watched you now, his jaw clenched as he took in the sight before him—you, hunched over a book in the Great Hall, a cup of coffee gripped in one trembling hand, barely picking at your food with the other. Students all around were suffering through exam stress, but Mattheo didn’t give a damn about any of them. You were the only one who mattered. And watching you unravel like this was killing him.

Sitting beside him, Theodore Nott let out a low whistle. “Mate, what the hell is wrong with her?” he muttered, following Mattheo’s gaze.

Mattheo exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “That stupid exam is next week. She’s pushing herself too hard. If she doesn’t pass, she won’t be able to retake it for another four years. That would completely screw up her entire life plan.” His voice was tight, frustration laced beneath the concern.

Theodore huffed a laugh, lips curling in amusement. “Please, it can’t be that serious. No one plans their life around one exam.” Mattheo’s eyes darkened as he turned toward his friend. “It’s her wallpaper.” Theodore’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Mattheo ran a hand through his hair. “The life plan. It hangs over her bed.” Theodore’s mouth formed a small ‘O’ of realization, his amusement fading into something more thoughtful.

Mattheo knew this couldn’t go on. He couldn’t just sit back and watch you self-destruct. No, he had to do something.

And he knew exactly what to do.

Later that day, Mattheo found you exactly where he expected—in the library, buried under an avalanche of books, your fingers gripping a quill like it was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. Without a word, he sank into the chair beside you, drumming his fingers against the wooden surface.

You didn’t even glance up, just exhaled a frustrated sigh before whispering, “Don’t waste my time. Just say what you wanna say.”

Mattheo smirked, leaning back in his chair with that signature arrogance, the kind that both infuriated and charmed you in equal measure. “Babe, don’t worry. You’re gonna crush it. You could take this exam with one eye closed and still beat half these idiots. And most importantly—” he paused, his voice softening slightly, “—even if you don’t, it’s fine. You got this.”

Your eyes snapped to his, narrowing. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” you scoffed. “You’re only saying this because you love me. Love has made you dumber.”

Mattheo let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so. If anything, love has made me smarter. See, I haven’t picked a single fight this whole month.”

Your lips twitched despite yourself, a ghost of a proud smile appearing. “Yes, I am very proud of you for that. But if you don’t get the hell out in ten seconds, I will personally break your nose.”

Mattheo grinned like he’d been waiting for exactly that response. In a single, swift motion, he grabbed your wrist, yanking you to your feet before you could protest.

“What the hell, Mattheo?!” You struggled against his grip, your chair scraping noisily against the floor as he dragged you out of the library. Heads turned. You scowled. “Stop! I swear to Merlin, if this is another one of your—”

He didn’t stop. He didn’t even slow down, only coming to a halt when he shoved open the door to an abandoned classroom and pulled you inside.

You shot him a glare as you yanked your arm free. “This better be good, Riddle, or I’m hexing your balls into oblivion.”

Mattheo’s smirk widened as he leaned casually against a desk, arms crossed over his chest. “Since you’re so stressed, I figured—why not give you a test?”

Your eyes darkened, your irritation sharpening into a glare. “Are you serious? You dragged me here for a fake test? These things are useless, Mattheo. They don’t have the same pressure, the same distractions. It’s all too damn quiet and perfect, like the walls themselves are whispering the answers.”

Mattheo tilted his head, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Yeah, I figured you’d say that.” He clapped his hands together once, and suddenly, the door swung open.

In walked Abby and Scully from Ravenclaw, each lugging twenty-five bags of chips. As they sat down, they immediately started munching—loudly. Crunching, smacking, licking their fingers like they were trying to break a world record for obnoxious eating.

Your eye twitched.

But that wasn’t all. Right behind them, a group of students filed in—loud ones. The kind who couldn’t stay quiet if their lives depended on it. They bickered, they whispered, they tapped their quills against the desks, they fidgeted like caffeinated squirrels.

Mattheo leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Better prepare yourself, Y/L/N. This is your battlefield.” Then, with a wicked grin, he added, “And I know you wanna rip my clothes off right now, but you’re gonna have to wait and ace this test first.”

You stepped closer, so close that he sucked in a breath, his smirk faltering just slightly. Your voice dropped to a sultry whisper, just for him.

“I am so fucking turned on by you right now.” You smirked. “Give me five minutes to destroy this test. Then? You.”

Mattheo’s mouth fell open slightly, like he’d just been hit by a Confundus Charm.

You winked, snatching up the test from his hands, and took your seat, utterly unbothered by the chaos around you.

Mattheo, still standing there, watching you with something dark and heated in his gaze, let out a quiet, disbelieving chuckle.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered. “I think I just made studying sexy.”

Mattheo sat outside on the Quidditch field, staring up at the darkening sky, the cool breeze doing nothing to temper the frustration simmering in his chest. His fingers fidgeted with a stray blade of grass as he replayed the events of the day over and over in his head. He was about to go find you himself when he noticed Abby and Scully trudging toward him, looking particularly sheepish.

“We’re out of chips,” they said in perfect unison.

Mattheo blinked. Then scowled. “What the hell? I gave you fifty packets. And I told you to stay in that damn room.”

Scully shifted uncomfortably before muttering, “About that… Y/N kinda… vanished.”

Mattheo’s stomach dropped. His jaw clenched. “Vanished?” His voice was eerily calm, but his eyes—oh, his eyes had darkened into something deadly.

Abby nodded. “Yeah, she just—poof. One second she was there, the next, gone. No idea where.”

Mattheo shot to his feet, his entire body thrumming with tension. “I asked you to do one thing,” he snapped, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “One fucking thing—and you couldn’t even do that?” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Move aside.”

It was almost nightfall, and Mattheo, along with his friends, had been searching for you for over an hour. You were nowhere to be found. His mind churned with possibilities—were you upset? Were you hiding? Had something happened? And then, like a punch to the gut, it hit him.

Today’s date.

Mattheo stopped in his tracks, exhaling as realization settled over him. “I know where she is,” he muttered. “Go back to the dorms—I got this.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and headed toward the Potions classroom.

And there you were.

Curled up in a ball, tucked into the shadows, your arms wrapped around your knees as if holding yourself together. The dim candlelight flickered against your face, casting soft, golden hues over your tear-streaked cheeks. His chest tightened at the sight.

Mattheo said nothing as he stepped inside. He didn’t need to. Instead, he lowered himself to the floor beside you, his presence warm and steady.

You glanced up, your voice barely above a whisper. “How did you find me?”

His expression remained neutral, but his eyes—his eyes—were soft as they met yours. “15th of March.”

A humorless laugh escaped your lips, and despite yourself, a small, sad smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. “Of course.”

Mattheo’s lips curled into one of those rare smiles—the kind he didn’t give just anyone. “A year ago, today, we had detention together.” His tone turned teasing. “You spent the whole night pretending to be annoyed while secretly staring at me like I was the hottest thing you’d ever seen, and by the end of it, you were completely infatuated with me.”

You gave him a side-eye. “Mattheo.”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. You flirted with me for fifteen seconds, and I became obsessed.”

You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “Sounds more accurate.”

A comfortable silence settled between you both.

And then, softly, Mattheo asked, “Babe, can you tell me the real reason why you’re scared?”

You hesitated for a moment before shifting closer, resting your head against his shoulder. His warmth seeped into you, grounding you, anchoring you.

“I didn’t even know why I was so tense before,” you admitted. “But when I was in that classroom, giving that practice test… I realized.” Your throat tightened. “Passing this test means going away from you. And I—I don’t know how to handle that.”

Mattheo stayed quiet, letting you speak.

“All these days, I’ve been drowning myself in books, trying to avoid thinking about it. But in that classroom, it hit me.” Your voice cracked. “Everything between us is so good right now. But what if leaving ruins that? What if we can’t make long distance work? What if me being gone changes everything?” A tear slid down your cheek, soaking into Mattheo’s shirt. “And what if—” your voice broke entirely, and you inhaled shakily, “—what if you realize that you deserve better? What if you find someone else, someone closer? Someone who isn’t a whole country away?”

Mattheo was quiet for a beat. Then, with a slow exhale, he shook his head and lifted his hands to your face, cradling your cheeks between his palms. He wiped your tears away gently, then—because he was still Mattheo—he wiped his hands off on your shirt, making you let out a watery laugh.

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said, “Babe, listen to me—no, actually, shut up and listen, because I know that pretty little overthinking brain of yours is already running marathons.” His thumbs stroked your cheekbones, his touch featherlight. His gaze—intense, unwavering, filled with nothing but love—held you in place, made you feel every word before he even said them.

“Darling, if you don’t go—if you give up your dream for me—I swear I will throw myself into the nearest trash can and live there forever because that’s exactly where I belong if I let you do that.” His voice was steady, firm, convincing. “Baby, I want you to go. I need you to go. Not because I want to be away from you—hell no, I’m already dreading the distance—but because you’ve been dreaming about this since you were a kid, and the only thing worse than missing you would be watching you resent me for holding you back.”

You sniffled, lips trembling.

“And as for your stupid little fear that I’ll find someone else—ugh, babe, do you think I’m insane? That my brain is rotting?” His lips twitched into a smirk before softening again. “Do you think I’d willingly trade you—the love of my fucking life, the only person who actually laughs at my dumb jokes, the only one who knows exactly how I like my coffee, the only soul on this godforsaken planet who makes me feel like I belong—for anyone else?” His voice was raw now, honest in a way that made your chest ache.

His forehead pressed against yours, his nose brushing yours as he whispered, “Baby, there is no one else. There never will be.”

Tears slipped silently down your cheeks.

“So go. Conquer. Be brilliant.” He swallowed thickly. “And when you come back, I’ll be right here, still stupidly in love with you, probably crying into your hoodie and talking to your pictures like a lunatic.” He gave you a small, wry smile. “But I’ll be yours. Always.”

Your lips trembled. Your fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt.

And then, with no warning, you surged forward, crashing your lips against his in a kiss so deep, so desperate, it stole the breath from both your lungs.

Mattheo exhaled into your mouth, his arms winding around you like he never wanted to let go.

And maybe, just maybe—he never would.

[demonic0angel]

with how young Jason is in the silkie au and the unknown about sea education, he could think that kiss = baby. He sees Jazz with seal pup Dani for the first time and draws all the wrong conclusions.

(PFFTT—)

Part 1

Jason froze at the sight of his selkie approaching him. She swam over to him fluidly, doing a flip in the water to show off and although Jason absentmindedly clapped his hands, he was mostly staring at the seal pup by her side. The little seal pup was all white, covered in a soft fuzz and swam over shyly.

They had blue eyes, just like him.

Jason was pretty sure that baby Mer grew up in eggs and it didn’t take them that soon to grow up, but maybe selkies were different? After all, they were magical and mammals.

…. What sort of baby did a selkie and a Mer even make?

Jason shook his head to wave away the thought and then hugged his selkie close to him. She made a confused noise, tilting her head but happily returning the hug. The seal pup stared at them curiously, nudging its little nose against their tails.

“I will take responsibility,” Jason said in a deep voice to show his conviction. “I’ll take care of both of you, okay?”

He pulled back to look into her dark turquoise eyes. She blinked, the perfect picture of cuteness.

Both of them were too young to be parents and it was more of his selkie’s fault for kissing him than his, but Jason was a very responsible little Mer. Also, he had Bruce to take care of him and he was pretty sure that Bruce wouldn’t mind being a grandfather. Dick would be a good uncle and Alfred was the best, so surely they would all help him.

Jason nodded to himself, a plan already forming. He took one of his selkie’s flippers in hand and said, “C’mon, we have to make a plan!” He paused in place and turned around to draw the seal pup into his arms, who was swimming rather slowly due to its size. “Let’s go see my guardian. Let’s go before you run out of air!”

Both selkies exchanged bewildered and confused looks but followed the over excited lionfish Mer.

Dani stared at her sister with confusion. Wasn’t she supposed to just meet her friend and no one else? Why were they both swimming to meet this Mer’s dad?

Jazz could only give a seal’s equivalent of a shrug.

She had no idea what was going on either, but her Jason was very dashing as he swam so determinedly, so… it probably wouldn’t be too bad?

Bruce would later have a fishy heart attack as his youngest came back with two selkies, declaring one his wife and the other his child.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Dreamers | Rhysand & Daughter!Reader

Summary: After Madja is away in business for two months, he has to find a healer to replace her in her absence, which happens to be you, his bastard daughter, and unbeknownst to him, Azriel’s mate.

Word Count: ~ 2.3k

Warnings: Angst, bad family relationship, mentions of prostitution, implied sex, but it ends happy don’t worry (PLATONIC BETWEEN RHYS AND READER)

A/N: This request was like perfectly matching up with my daydreams so thanks !! hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Throughout all your years of education and schooling, there was one truth you knew without having to be told.

You were unwanted. A mistake.

You’d always known that and hadn’t cared much for the first few years of your life. Your mother had been a prostitute, and your father had accidentally knocked her up. Whether it had been a mistake, or your mother had purposefully not used a contraceptive just to have a tie to the High Lord was still in debate, but you didn’t care much anymore.

He had tried to raise you, probably not wanting you to grow up a whore like your mother, but been trapped Under the Mountain, leaving you alone, your only real ties to him were through Cassian, who didn’t seem to care that you were a bastard child or your circumstances.

He felt like more of a father, sometimes.

You’d gotten your apartment in Velaris, working as an herbalist, and something of a medic, using the mingled magic of your mother and father to heal people. Some would say the job didn’t match your sometimes uncaring and blunt, even bitter demeanor. But you didn’t care what they said, and you never had. It paid the bills, and let you live relatively comfortably in your little shop when not in the apartment.

You had heard the rumors of Feyre, the Cursebreaker who’d freed your father, and by extension all the other High Lords from Under the Mountain. You’d seen the female and your father together, walking the streets happy as could be together, openly proclaiming their love, not to mention their baby.

After he’d been liberated, you hadn’t tried to seek him out, and he hadn’t with you. It was for the best, probably. You wanted nothing to do with his perfect little happy family and Inner Circle, you didn’t belong there, and you had no desire to. You hadn’t needed a father to grow up, and you didn’t need one now.

However, Madja was away on business, leaving you as the only other healer in Velaris capable of giving checkups to their child. It was for that reason, you suspected, that he invited you to a “family” dinner as if he’d ever treated you like family.

“It’ll be alright.”

Your mate, Azriel, spoke to you as he got ready to escort you into the House of Wind, where they wanted to have dinner that night. You hadn’t bothered to dress up nice or fancy, only donning some loose pants and a shirt, clothes you would usually work in.

Azriel had been your mate for nearly three years, having secretly accepted the bond, and decided to keep the relationship private for now, to let things settle down for now, and now had stretched into one year after another, until you were both content to live in the shadows.

“You know how I feel about them.”

You replied, sighing before quickly composing yourself at the clear mix of emotions on his face. His urge to defend his family and to empathize with you warring with each other in his mind.

You stepped forward, settling into his arms as you felt the shadows wrap around you, the environment shifting as your eyes remained open, and then you were there, the door to the House of Wind standing right in front of you. It felt wrong, to come back here after completely cutting off contact, only to be used for your healing abilities and medical knowledge for a half-sibling you’d never met.

Glancing over at Azriel, he gave a little nod, and you opened the door, setting foot inside the home and immediately confronted with the scents of multiple people. You could recognize some, Mor, Rhys, Cassian, maybe Amren? Only Feyre, Rhys, and Cassian were seated at the table, waiting for you. You’d heard news that Mor was visiting her private estate, and Amren off god knows where.

Expression as ticked off and blunt as you were feeling, you walked in, taking a seat as a plate of food magically appeared in front of you.

Rhys’ gaze ran up and down you, noting your clothes, simple cheap ones to get the job done, the herbs caked under your long nails, the calluses on your hands from handling your mortar and pestle so often, the way you didn’t smile at him or any of his family, or the same impassive and slightly annoyed look on your face. Something briefly appeared in his gaze, before being gone just as easily. Good. You had enough to deal with without any family problems.

“Hello, Y/N, I’d like you to meet -“

He spoke, voice sounding as confident as usual, but with a hint of a crack, as if testing the waters as he gestured towards Feyre.

“Your mate and son. I’m well aware.”

Your voice wasn’t like his, not with the silver tongue he had, tone blunt and straightforward. You didn’t refer to them by name on purpose, to make it seem like you hadn’t even cared to follow the news about him and his life. Like you were better. Feyre cast a sympathetic glance at Rhys, one that made your temper flare.

He shouldn’t get to be comforted for his past mistakes coming to bite him in the ass.

Cassian remained silent, exchanging glances with Azriel across the table. This was bound to happen eventually, and the General didn’t try any of his usual tactics to lighten the mood.

Rhys swallowed, opening his mouth to speak, probably to try and soothe you or make you less openly hostile, but you interrupted him.

“What do you want?”

You asked, tone blunt and cold, detached almost if it weren’t for the anger you held against him. He tried to hide his wince but failed to do it completely. That made you feel a bit better, at least. A sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. His expression sobered into one of resigned seriousness.

“Our healer, Madja, will be away on business for two months. You’re the most qualified to take her place if you would.”

He said. Feyre seemed a bit uncomfortable with the thought of you being the personal healer for their family for two months, and you didn’t blame her, considering your demeanor and history, but it still pissed you off.

“How much will you pay?”

You asked blandly, making it clear that the job meant nothing to you to get closer to them at all. All that mattered was the pay. Your mind was already calculating the costs, advantages, and disadvantages of taking the deal. He stiffened slightly, another small victory.

He stated a price, it was high, ridiculously so, in fact, but you weren’t complaining. Money was money. Even if you got it from your half-family.

“Sure.”

You said simply, still not touching your dinner. The food was tantalizing, but the thought of sending a message even more so. You wouldn’t dine at this table, not like how you had done so many years ago. Though your throat was parched, you didn’t touch the glass of water.

“Is that all?”

You asked, your mint green eyes, the same shade as your mother’s, meeting his violet gaze. Pure indifference was all you were determined to give him. After he’d forgotten about you, too obsessed with his mate and new child, the replacements, to bother with you.

“I was hoping you’d stay for dinner.”

He said quietly, a hint of pleading in his gaze. You felt a pang in your chest at that but shoved it down as you got up from your seat, not tucking it in. They could look at the seat pushed out after you left, and think about you. It would hopefully plague his mind like he plagued yours.

“Keep hoping. See where it gets you.”

You said dryly, walking out of the kitchen, out of that goddamned sentient House that remembered you even now, how it knew your favorite food, just the way you knew your mother had cooked it so long ago, or the way you’d loved the water from that river out back, one you still visited now.

You heard the harsh scratching of a chair against the wooden floor and footsteps, and before you could winnow away, you found that you couldn’t move.

Not metaphorically or rhetorically, you literally could not move your own body, and that’s when you became all too aware of the presence in your mind when your barriers had slipped because of your irritation. Your father finally released you as he stood behind you, you whirled to look at him, seething.

“Stay out of my head.”

You hissed, shoving him away from you even as he gave you a begging gaze.

“Please, I’m sorry, let me try, just give me one chance to be your father, one?”

He begged, voice cracking with desperation you’d never seen before, and it would’ve weirded you out a little if you weren’t frozen in place, throat even dryer now as you tried to think of something to say.

Despite how you denied it and wanted to be cold and vengeful towards him, deep down, that wasn’t what you wanted. Maybe a relationship with him wouldn’t be so bad. It wasn’t like he’d had a choice to leave you behind, he’d been kidnapped Under the Mountain, and been so busy putting his Court back together and handling a war that he hadn’t even been able to think about you.

You swallowed, sighing and giving a resigned nod.

“Just..meet me for breakfast tomorrow, I guess. At my apartment. It’s down the block to the right of Rita’s, you’ll know it when you see it.”

As soon as you said it, he pulled you into a gentle hug, feeling you stiffening under his touch. You weren’t the most touchy person with strangers, or people you didn’t know very well at that.

Breakfast tomorrow. Great.

*********************************************************

Az had already been late when he’d arrived at your apartment for the moment, his tedious little schedule for the recent mission already thrown off because of the extra time he’d taken bending you over a counter. Just as he gave you a little kiss on the cheek, opening the door to head out, he ran face-first into Rhys, the only thing stopping the two from kissing being the subtle height advantage Azriel had over his High Lord.

“What -“

Rhys began, and Azriel was gone quicker than you’d ever seen his shadows transport him. You dragged your father in, closing the door behind you.

“He’s my mate and has been for three years, but anyways, breakfast.”

You blurted in a rushed tone as you tried to ignore the obvious thing that had just happened. Rhys ran a hand through his dark hair and sighed, seeming exasperated but not surprised.

“I thought so, Cassian said he’s been coming home smelling like you lately.”

He muttered under his breath as you slipped an oven mitt on, pulling a muffin sheet out of the oven and hissing as the oven brushed against your arm, leaving an angry little red spot. Your father’s eyebrows raised at that, and he walked over and turned your sink to a lukewarm temperature, grabbing you and easily moving you over to it to run the burn under it. Protective instincts were probably already kicking in for him, albeit a bit dusty and not used for anyone other than his new son.

He grabbed a roll of bandaging that was on your counter, from the other night when you’d also accidentally burned yourself while trying to open the oven with your bare feet, hands too busy. The oven-related incidents were getting a bit too often, now. Especially since Azriel threatened to throw the oven out if you didn’t stop getting hurt.

“Thanks.”

You managed to mumble as his slender fingers skillfully wrapped some of it around you, securing it easily. He gave a little nod, slipping an oven mitt on and dumping the muffins out, just shoving them all onto one plate he set on the small table with two chairs, one for you and Az.

He sat down, you sitting across from him, grabbing a muffin and unwrapping it, before just awkwardly eating in silence.

“So..”

You said, swallowing as you tried to think about how weird this conversation would be. He sighed, running his hands through his hair again. It seemed to be a nervous habit of his.

“I’m sorry, for not being there. There was just so much going on, with the war, Amarantha, not to mention Koschei…”

His voice trailed off at the mention of them.

“I..get it. You were busy with all that.”

“I still should’ve been there. You’re my daughter, and you grew up without a father because of me.”

You swallowed, trying to bite back the emotions that rose because of this conversation. He seemed to notice, violet eyes softening as his chair scooted a bit closer to yours, wanting to comfort you but unsure how to do so without further upsetting you. You suddenly felt bad for all your remarks and attitude earlier. He’d been trying, you hadn’t.

“We can start over if you want. Just father and daughter?”

You nodded, sniffling slightly. At that tiny sniffle, he couldn’t resist anymore, getting up and pulling you into his arms. This time, you didn’t stiffen, didn’t struggle, or try to pull away, you just cried into his chest in a way you usually only could do with Az. He held you close, hand soothingly rubbing your back.

“I think I’d like that.”

You managed to choke out as the tears dried up, and you looked up into his violet eyes, now noticing the golden flecks in them, like stars you could wish on.

Stars promising hope and a future of warmth and acceptance.

Tags:

@judeduartewannbe

[sparklystarrrr]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a little thing where Jade is talking with reader then something comes flying over (maybe from the disaster duo or spelldrive) and she is just knocked the fuck out.

Bonk!

Synopsis: You get knocked out by a fucking broomstick.

Contains: Jade L. x Fem! Reader, straight crack (anon this made me cackle idek what im writing), romantic/platonic, Jade being his nerdy self, some cursing

Gym was grueling. I had zero idea how to fly a broomstick so participating in that was basically a no go. I had no magic so a broomstick wouldn’t just start flying whenever I tried. It was kinda disappointing I couldn’t use magic, but I guess that’s what happens when you get thrown into a world with magic, right?

Luckily in gym though while I was boiling out in the sun, I had close friends to keep me company. Even more lucky, I had Jade with me, and he was a bit wearing of flying a broomstick like all the other Octavinelle students. He was always a joy to be around! He jogged towards me as the class had begun,”(y/n)! I see you’re standing idly by. Would it be alright for me to join you?” He smiled softly.

“Yeah of course!” It was almost calming talking to Jade. Sure he was super ominous and lowkey scary sometimes, but off the Mostro Lounge job he was just kinda… normal? Well, not completely normal, he was still spooky and mysterious. But he would dabble in his hobbies more. Almost every time we found each other in conversation he’d report about his new mushroom findings. Today was like no other.

“There is a new poisonous fungus I must inform you about. Trichoderma cornu-damae, also known as the poisonous fire coral. As the name entails, it has a similar appearance to bright orange coral found in the Coral Sea. Quite interesting!” He said with delight absolutely radiating off him. It was sorta spooky how he had such an interest for the deadly mushrooms roaming around the wonderland. I wonder… does he use those on misbehaving students during contract signing? ‘Scary’… I shuddered at the thought. I noticed all the students flying overhead in the sky. I giggled to myself at the Heartslabyul freshman who was absolutely out of control on his broomstick. He looked kinda familiar though… Blue hair and everything…

“It is part of the—“ BONK

“Ack!—“Oh great. Right at my head. The rickety Heartslabyul student flew straight into my head.

The student, now identified as Deuce, straight up panicked while I laid on the grass, completely out. “AGH FUCK I HIT HER!!! Holy shit what do I do oh my sevens oh my sevens oh my sevensss……” Jade was flabbergasted. He was quietly shocked while picking me up slowly. His hands were under my arms while he laid me over his shoulder. “I’ll have (y/n) go to the nurse. We should get her there quickly.” He said to Deuce.

Poor freshie was still shaking in his boots from the aftershock of literally hitting his best friend and knocking her out. “Y-yeah yeah okay… I’ll go tell Coach Vargas.” With that, he practically sprinted off to Vargas to inform him of what happened, hoping and praying he wouldn’t get kicked out of NRC for this.

Luckily for me, Jade has scarily long legs. His speed walking ability was impressive. He bolted straight over to get me the treatment for whatever the heck just happened. Hopefully I wouldn’t be concussed… hopefully.

After what was most likely a few hours, I groggily woke up with a bandage wrapped around my head and Jade sitting silently next to me. I slowly sat up, a sudden headache pounding against my skull, “Ugh…” “Oh my, you’re up!” He spoke pleasantly, clearly shocked. “What the heck happened…?”

He sighed,”Well, young Deuce Spade hit you with his broomstick. Currently, he is being scolded by Housewarden Rosehearts for his lack of broomstick flying safety education. Apparently, he had been skipping class with Ace Trappola and missed plenty of lectures for quite some time.” Oh yeah, that definitely sounded like something those two would do… I don’t doubt Jade was telling the truth. “Yup, that definitely sounds like the truth..” I giggled. Jade smiled back at me.

Then, a sudden bright glint his heterochromic eyes. “Now where was I, ah yes. The Trichoderma cornu-damae is part of the Hypocreaceae family which means-“ Oh yeah, he was no where near done with his fungus talk. I don’t mind it though. I could never mind it<3

I GOT PAPA CREWEL’S SSR CARD TODAYYY

[felassan]

The Gamer interview with Alix Wilton Regan by Meg Pelliccio: '“We Are Currently Massively Overexposed And Massively Underprotected," Says Dragon Age's Alix Wilton Regan'

Excerpts:

"The first big game Wilton Regan remembers acting in is Dragon Age: Origins, and looking back at how the industry was then in how it approached acting, she says that, “things are changing for the better in the video game industry in the way that we look at actors and respect their artistry.” [...] “Fans and players have always understood the value of video games [and] the value of actors in video games because video games die a death without good performance. [...] Fans and players have always understood the importance of a totally f*cking brilliant Inquisitor, a totally f*cking brilliant Astarion, a totally f*cking brilliant Indiana Jones. The fans understand that value because they understand the emotional connection to the actors. It is about educating the people at the very top that actors are therefore worth investing in from a financial point of view, not just from an emotional point of view, from a collaborative point of view.” [...] “The relationship between the developers and the actors is paramount because when I feel trusted, when I feel valued, when I feel seen and heard, that is when I feel safest to give you my best work. That is when I can give you the tears of Sam Traynor at the end of [Mass Effect 3]. That is when I can give you the blood-curdling screams of Tezi in Amnesia Rebirth, because the team, to their credit, was saying more, ‘do what you want, what do you feel?’ They weren't trying to shut me down. If you build people up, if you give them honey, not vinegar, we actors will give you gold, and we make magic.” [...] “We used to be told absolutely sweet f*ck all about the storylines. Jennifer Hale [Commander Shepard in Mass Effect] has spoken to this, which is you go in and give a cold reading every day for four hours, and you've never seen the script before. Now, if you're lucky, you will get the script 48 hours in advance to look through, to prep and learn. If you're performance capturing, you'll definitely get the script in advance because you have to be completely off book, but normally you step into the booth and you give two, three, maybe four reads because you know it has to be brilliant.” She tells me she always likes to know the overall story arc to plot things in her head, especially if it’s a big game or she’s portraying a lead character. However, in terms of how much detail she knows, sometimes that comes down to her personal choice. “With Solas, I didn't want to know that he was the Dread Wolf because that would have ruined the surprise and heartbreak for me.”"

[source]

[rayroseu]

Wait this is actually interesting, so from what the story implies, Wild Rose Castle is weaker than Black Scale Castle because it probably has no magical atmosphere that serves as its defense, there's probably fewer troops here, and the fact that its just on a clear meadow makes the terrain not suitable for defenses unlike Black Scale who is atop a mountain and covered in a Valley.

So I kinda think that Wild Rose Castle is a newly built castle in Briarland. After all, Meleanor was a kid only 200 years ago so Wild Briar is probably that age as well (or more), i think that age is young (compared to Black Scale which probably several centuries old?) thats why it has weaker defense facilities.

Maybe Wild Briar is older as Black Scale, but this game says this is Meleanor's castle so I assume she's the one who had built this.

But I have this HC that this castle is actually built because of Levan. For his diplomatic mission between humans. Building a castle in an easy terrain would make sense to make it easier for magicless humans to transport in. Because I don't really expect(?) Maleanor who is a military commander, which she probably has knowledge of strategies, to not see how disadvantegous this location is considering its close to humans

But I also think Wild Briar was built as like a refuge for the faes that live far away outside Dragon City(I wont call it dragonopolis lol)

Wild Rose being a few centuries old also kinda makes sense since the Silver Owls only recognize Meleanor as the only ruler in Briarland, they probably arent aware theres a queen named Maleficia because she's ancient(?) atleast I didnt caught any silver owls mentioning her iirc(?) They went to the mountains near Dragon city yes-- but like it was to pursue General Lilia and not to besiege Black Scale as well even they kinda had the potential to do so since they took down Maleanor and Silver Owls' is implied to be very greedy--

I actually think its more interesting to not summarize Maleanor's cause of death as just her overestimating her win against Knight of Dawn-- I actually think its because of several reasons such as:

"Wrong time" in working out the diplomatic relations between the conflict between humans and faes, Levan's plan to educate wasn't pointless effort, but I wish the story states as well what he did to counter the fact that the faes hates humans not because of a misunderstanding, but because of their mistreatment towards faes(the story literally implies rhe humans kills faes meanwhile we have yet to see a royal guard fae that killed humans the story only tells us they chased them away), Levan does this when its clear that the Silver Owls was getting hostile, like objectively speaking, this was kinda not the right time to communicate and Meleanor was the receiving end of the build up hostility of the Silver Owls

This is kinda countering my first point, but Meleanor's decisions was kinda weird too in the story lol, why send your best Generals to the enemy fortress.... 😭💥 But I actually think this is interesting as well, because its likely a reference to the wars in LiveAction Maleficent... I remember watching that movie especially Maleficent 2: Mistress of Evil and just wondering why the Moors never plans (and even if they do its very simple, just charge in and overpower the enemy with strength), they just charge in instead of treating it "like a chess" where you save your best pieces in dangerous situations and everyone has a role in dispelling the enemy. They also hold this belief that only the strong ones would guarantee their success and heavily relies on them. Meanwhile, Queen Ingrid used deception and control to subdue all the faeries. Like Meleanor/Faes vs Humans, the faes never thinks about what the human enemy plans, they rely on raw dodging it lol probably alluding to the fact that the faes have trouble thinking like a human.

And lastly this point lol, poor choice of headquarters, the terrain is easy for humans to invade in, and the castle is still weak, also the fact that Wild Briar was alone in fighting several human nations was a factor as well because it couldnt get back up in time because it was too far away from Black Scale Castle, kinda adding Wild Briar was outnumbered too atp

[tothepointofinsanity]

I have always been a little confused by something: What exactly dictates the power of a magical girl? I understand why Madoka is as powerful as she is, but what makes Kyoko, Mami and Homura more powerful than Sayaka (who has been confirmed the weakest)? If Madoka is powerful because she's the primary goal behind Homura going back in time, shouldn't Sayaka be too (to a lesser degree ofc) if only because her acts affect Madoka so much? Could it be that the impact of a wish plays a part in it too? Or maybe it's just "luck" in a way?

Hello, I suppose it is a matter of various circumstances…truthfully, I am not too certain about this question. According to QB, it seems that some girls have more “magic potential” than others based on their karmic destiny, but the wish definitely has to do with what kind of powers you will be bestowed, and undeniably there will be some powers more cracked than the others. Homura wasn’t a strong magical girl when she started out, but her power, to rewind and stop time, is very much game-breaking once she mastered it.

Meanwhile, Kyoko and Sayaka both made wishes for others, but Kyoko has been in the magical girl field far longer than Sayaka, and though her power is tacky (chains and speared fences), she learns to utilise it effectively. Her power is tied to her wish as well, which has more to do with “binding” thanks to her religious background. Sayaka’s power has to do with healing, which is powerful when we see her go up against Holy Mami and how quickly she recovers from Kyoko, but self-healing isn’t comparable to something like rewinding time on Homura’s scale. Mami’s powers in of themselves aren’t considered inherently “strong” at first glance considering she just manifests ribbons and guns, which you would wonder how she could even synergise both features, but she learned to do so, which is how she effectively managed to clear witches, and is one of the more experienced magical girls in general. So while you cannot 100% determine your power when you make a wish, learning to use your power however bizarre and unconventional it may be in a way best suited for you is part of being recognised as a strong magical girl.

I think you could make any wish you want, though you need to gather massive karmic destiny in order to execute it (as seen with Madoka), which would also scale with your power…One thought I had about why Sayaka is so weak compared to other puella magis is because she always perishes the fastest compared to everyone else, so by the time Homura rewinds time, Madoka is once again the centre of the rewind, not Sayaka…Since it appears that the point in time in which Homura dials back is more important than whoever else are associated with Madoka (in terms of karmic destiny accumulation), especially if they are no longer with either of the main duo when Walpurgisnacht is felled. It’s just that overtime, it seems that the main cast around Madoka were strung tighter and tighter because it plays out the same way more often than not, instead of before where these girls would have been more scattered across the timelines.

This is just my speculation though, and I think it is pretty inaccurate…if anyone could educate me on this, I would be glad. Thank you for the ask ^^…

[idrawweirdstuffnominors]

If ur oki with it, girl dad Josh hc's

(I gotch you <3

Josh levy as a Girl Dad headcannons!

1. Hypervigilant Protector Mode:

Josh is an extremely protective dad—borderline helicopter parent at times. The idea of someone hurting his daughter sends him into overdrive. He'll grill a toddler at daycare if they so much as steal a crayon from her.

2. Sci-Fi Indoctrination:

By age three, his daughter has seen all the Star Trek movies (age-appropriately censored), has a tiny Starfleet uniform, and can name every crew member of the Enterprise. Her bedtime stories are plot summaries of obscure sci-fi shows Josh acts out with full dramatic flair.

3. Emotionally Attuned (Sometimes Too Much):

His BPD makes him hyperaware of his daughter's moods. He'll immediately notice if she's quiet or off and will spiral if he thinks she’s upset with him. “Did I ruin her childhood? What did I say??” he’ll whisper at 2 a.m.

4. Fiercely Encouraging, But Competitive:

Whatever his daughter likes—sports, art, science—he’s all in. He wants to be her #1 fan but might accidentally turn things into a competition, like, “Yeah, but my comic was better at your age. Still... this is... solid.”

5. Rants at PTA Meetings:

The teachers fear him. He will go on long-winded rants about educational standards, media literacy, and why The Magic School Bus is better than any modern kids show. If the curriculum skips over Carl Sagan, he loses it.

6. Clingy During Milestones:

First day of school? He’s crying in the car. First crush? He’s interrogating them with passive-aggressive jokes. When she moves out? He’s FaceTiming her every other day with “You forgot your Star Wars DVDs. You’ll be back. You’ll miss me. Right?”

7. Deep Talks & Meltdowns:

Late-night convos with his daughter are some of the best moments in his life. But if they fight, he can get emotionally intense, struggling with black-and-white thinking. He worries constantly: “What if she hates me now?”

8. Best At Cosplay:

Halloween is sacred. He goes all-out on her costumes, usually coordinating his own. Think matching Ripley and Power Loader, or Princess Leia and sad, overprotective Obi-Wan Dad.

9. Will Go Nuclear on Misogyny:

Despite his ego, Josh is violently defensive of his daughter’s right to be into science, comics, and math. If anyone belittles her because she's a girl? He erupts. No one tells his kid she can’t love “The Wrath of Khan.” (which is ironic)

10. Soft Spot, Big Heart:

At the core of it all, Josh just adores his daughter. She’s the only person who can break through his arrogance with a smile or eye roll. When she hugs him, he melts, all his bluster fading into this emotional puddle of “God, I love you, kid.”

Bonus fic

Scene: Josh's Apartment, Nighttime

Josh is sitting on the couch surrounded by empty takeout containers and action figures. He's rubbing his temples, clearly spiraling from work stress and something petty he argued about online. His daughter walks in, clutching her stuffed Spock.

Daughter:

“You said you’d read me the rest of Red Mars before bed.”

Josh:

“I know, I know, I just—God, I’m sorry, kiddo. Today was... dumb. People are dumb. The internet is a hellhole. Never join fandom forums, okay?”

Daughter: (climbs onto the couch and plops down beside him)

“You always say that, but you never quit them.”

Josh groans and covers his face

“Because I’m addicted to rage, apparently.”

She pulls his hand away gently and puts Spock in his lap.

Daughter:

“Spock says that’s illogical. He says you need sleep, and maybe some salad.”

Josh cracks a smile despite himself

“Okay, that’s... that’s actually not bad advice. God, you’re scary good at this.”

Daughter:

“Yeah. It’s because I’m smarter than you.”

Josh was mock offended

“Excuse me? You take that back. I built an entire diorama of the Babylon 5 command deck out of cardboard when I was your age.”

Daughter: (grinning)

“And I made a diorama of you having a meltdown over a fan fic.”

Josh staring, then snorting with laughter

“You little goblin. Fine. You win. Let’s read your damn Mars book.”

He pulls her into a half-hug and grabs the book off the coffee table, flipping it open with a dramatic voice.

Josh (reading):

“‘The dust was red. The wind screamed across the Martian plains like a fanboy denied entry to San Diego Comic-Con…’”

She giggles, snuggles closer, and he leans his head on hers—finally calm. Needless to say if Josh had a daughter she was be a total daddies girl

(Yo i lowkey got emotional writing this and listening to weezer 😭😭😭😭

[thegurlwhoisntthere]

Currently thinking about The Batfam and what Hogwarts houses people usually put them in vs what house I think they’re actually in, Let’s go:

Starting off with Dick Grayson, he’s the oldest and most of the fandom knows him as “the golden boy”! The original Robin and the mother hen mediator of his siblings… he works so very hard to keep this reputation, inside he is a feral feral child. Defo got some anger issues that he shoves down because he blames himself for Jason’s death of reasons. Most people put him in either Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. As an adult, I agree he does fit these houses… however. The children of Hogwarts do not get sorted as fleshed out adults, they get sorted as feral 11 year olds. And 11 year old dick was as feral as they come. I think what house he’s in really depends on what age you think he was when his parents were murdered. The most accepted ages are 8-12, which means that there’s some wiggle room here. Pre-orphan hood I feel like he could swing that Gryffinpuff nature that many people believe him to be. However, if this is after the accident, I believe that it would be a toss up between Gryffindor and Slytherin depending on how long ago it happened. If it’s 8-9 I believe it’d be closer to Gryffindor because he’d have more time to settle into his role as Robin and maybe he’s starting to lean more toward Reckless and fun than “I will murder those that have wronged me” that early orphan-hood brought him. If he was 10-11 and still feeling that rage, then Slytherin.

Next we have Jason Todd-Wayne! Second Oldest… kinda, I think he and Cass are tied. Second Robin and first adopted, Jason grew up on the streets of Crime Alley and his tough skin showcased that. But! Don’t let his past fuel you, this boy is famous for his “Robin makes me Magic” quote (I’m so sorry if that’s not the actual quote, but I’m not doing research this is vibes and past knowledge only) and made Batman wait until he was finished with his homework to go on Patrol. Though Famous for his death, Resurrection and anger issues and murder, once again he did not die until 15/16, so we will be sorting him based on his 11 year old self. Now, honestly I don’t know where most people sort him beyond Ravenclaw because the Ravenclaw people are correct. This man has valued education since the day he was born. Pre-adoption or not, the moment he hears that Ravenclaw has a built in Library he was never going anywhere else.

Down the line we have Timothy “Tim” Drake-Wayne! Third Robin, ace photographer and Detective, he figured out who Batman was when he was 9. I don’t feel like Tim needs much explaination for me to say Slytherin, but I’ll give a bit anyway. It’s commonly believed that as an adult, Tim would be in Slytherin. It’s also commonly believed that the only reason he doesn’t kill is because Bruce doesn’t allow it. At 11 years old, not adopted by Bruce or in regular contact with him at all and criminally neglected, Tim has no super vision, resources, a brilliant mind, and too much time on his hands. When I say he would do anything to get what he wants, or what he thinks needs to happen, he fucking will.

Alright! Next up we have Stephanie Brown! Now I will be so honest, a lot of these next characters I don’t know a lot about them or their backgrounds, so I will be trying my best. This girl has ✨daddy issues✨, her dad is the knock off Riddler: Cluemaster. She grew up in Gotham proper, though I don’t know the specific neighborhood. She donned a mask costume to take him down herself, running into the third Robin, befriending him and eventually takes over for him a bit when his dad’s being a Debby downer. Valiantly refuses to be adopted by Batman. Very tough, very classy, I dub her a Gryffindor through and through… Although she can get into the Ravenclaw common room with ease.

Following her, we’ve got the legend herself Cassandra Cain-Wayne. Raised to be a living weapon by her father and escaped him after her first kill, she was never taught how to speak, only read body language. Found by Barbara Gordon at… 16? I think, she was eventually either taught how to sign and speak or had her brain magically rewired to understand speech and learned it alongside sign then. Again, don’t really understand her personality, but from what I’ve read she has a vicious sense of right and wrong and a mischievous streak just as long and wide and her brother’s, though the adults never suspect her. At 11 years old, I feel like she would find a home in Hufflepuff. She doesn’t quite know who she is, but she’s hard working and vicious like a badger if you fuck with her.

Finishing off the Batgirls, we have the original: Barbara Gordon! Originally Batgirl, now Oracle, I have no idea where people normally put her. I can see her going into any house: she’s hard working and kind like Hufflepuffs, Reckless and Brave like Gryffindor, Cunning and Resourceful like Slytherin, and Smart and Creative like Ravenclaw. I’m leaning toward Slytherin for her as an adult, but I don’t know a lot about her younger self to say anything too definitively. Maybe Gryffindor when she’s young and reckless, but grows into Slytherin more and more? Or maybe just Slytherin through and through.

And now, rounding off the Robins, we have Damian Al Ghul Wayne! Son of Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne, Damian was raised to be the perfect assassin with the disposition and arrogance of a prince. His entrance to the family was rocky, but he’s grown more and more into his place as time passed. If he’s very new to the family at 11, Slytherin without any doubts. Two and a half years and on, I think he’s a Hufflepuff who’s got a lot of Slytherin habits. He was raised to beat down his kindness and natural loyalty, but being with Bruce, Dick and the rest of his family brings it out more and more with each year. So, the longer he’s with them, the more chance I think he has of being in Hufflepuff, though I do believe it’s really just down to him deciding, similar to Harry in the books.

And Last, but most certainly not least, we have the newest member of the family: Duke Thomas! Not yet adopted by Bruce (and maybe never, we don’t know) Duke is the only Metahuman member of the Batfamily. His parents were rendered insane by the Joker when he was young and he was pushed into the system… I think. For probably the fourth time in this post, I’m not as familiar with his character. I know at some point he either started a child gang or was one of the leaders of a child gang called “we are Robin”, so while he never had a Batman as Robin, he did don the symbol at some point. Now I know Duke like Poetry, was kind of a loner before he joined the Robin gang, and that a lot of people debate whether or not he’s chill or just as insane as his other siblings. In my opinion, he’s just as insane, but when he first got to the manor he was kinda nervous and accidentally conned everyone into thinking that he was normal, when in fact, he’s there for a reason. At 11, I believe that his parents had already been Jokered, so similar boat to baby Dick, but I feel like the toss up is between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, rather than Gryffindor (though that was briefly considered). Idk I think anyone who’s part of a child gang is gonna be cunning and Ambitious, but also I’ve read a lot of things where he’s quite creative, good at thinking outside the box, good at writing Poems, and good with Brain teasers, so I think he wouldn’t be out of place in Ravenclaw.

And those are my opinions on the batfamily and their Hogwarts houses. I forgot while writing the post that I could’ve included Bruce and Alfred, so: Bruce is Gryffindor, Alfred is Slytherin and I won’t be explaining that further. Good day and good night 🫡

Tell me ur opinions please please please please ple-

[threepandas]

Bad End: Mama Mine

I woke, that first time, to the most beautiful child I had ever seen. Even through a fever that felt like it was cooking me from within, I could see she was different. It was honestly impossible not too. She looked cherubic. Angelic. Impossible, somehow. As though favored by the gods.

Even in worn, threadbare, patched then re-patched old clothes, so far from new as to have forgotten the name of it, she looked... like a dancer. Beautiful. A tiny painting brought to life. I couldn't understand, delirious as I was. I thought I was hallucinating. Worried her terribly.

She was just a small thing. Trying her best. Too care for her sick mother. She could barely reach the stove. Struggled to carry the buckets of water she needed, to cook and wipe my fevered sweat away. But she let nothing stop her. So determined to save me. Her little face so filled with love and worry, forever a step away from tears.

She was so afraid.

How could I do anything but love her back?

Disoriented or not. Lost and confused I may be. I had a child. Any plan I made? Would be for two. I had never really seen myself a mother, but cast into the role? I refused to abandon the child who loved and needed me. Who was innocent in all this.

Instead, as my fever broke, I held her close. Told her she had been so, so brave. Let her cry. Cuddled my little girl and gave myself a moment to just... breathe.

Then in the morning I got to work.

I appeared to be a single mother. A PEASANT single mother. Delightful. We had little to nothing to our name. I could try and fix that, I think. I knew a few crafts. But I had "forgotten" everything practical. Great. Luckily? I had a VERY observant little helper. Who remembered most of how everything was done.

I could context clues from there.

We made due.

Cleaned up the house, washed the linens, aired everything out. In bits and pieces, using half remembered wiki binges and crafting videos, I improved our little homestead somewhat. It wasn't by MUCH. I didn't have the skills. But it looked... nicer, I think. Homey.

We foraged. Sold hunted animals and things we had found. The occasional baked good. More then that? I tried to make time for my daughter. Keep her away from powerful eyes. The sort that might covet a pretty young thing. Taught her what I could.

Not just how to braid her beautiful hair, but that her beauty did not define her. That love was wonderful but not all there was to life. Too be wary of empty promises and watch for how the powerful treat those that they deem weaker then them. To lead with a smile but be prepared to throw her fist.

Also don't eat those mushrooms, honey, those are the poisonous ones.

I wish... Honestly? I wish I could have given my daughter a better childhood. Better education then the lessons scratched in dirt I was able. If I'd been able to REMEMBER. To recognize. Maybe I would have scrimped and saved more for third or forth hand textbooks, instead of the new hunting knife she so badly wanted.

But I didn't remember.

And as we were visiting town? PROPER town as opposed to our little settlement? I heard about wealthy, comparatively, family's having their children tested for... magic?

I faltered but adapted. Was it that much stranger then being transported into a new body and world? Magic it was then, I guess. Huh. We continued shopping. I bought my daughter a new sturdy pair of boots. Room to grow, would serve her well. She adored them. They had FLOWERS on them, mama! I couldn't help but laugh. Ah, my daughter is so cute!

Then I saw it.

As we passed the temple square. The only building in this whole town that could count as ostentatious. Some silk clad toddler broke from the pressing crowds, no doubt displeased with being crushed in on all sides. He wriggled free. Back from the steps and out into the road. Blind to the mortal peril he had just put himself in as the carriage of some wealthy To-Do raced carelessly down the street. Looking around, innocent, as only a toddler can as he wandered farther and farther from safety.

I dropped my shopping.

The world fuzzy and muffled, far away in my panic. Some Mother's instinct SCREAMING as I raced forward. Throwing a few people aside to reach the road. Then bolting. Distantly I heard my daughter scream, another scream as they finally notice, too late, their child was in mortal peril. But all I could see... was the little boy. Turning. Noticing. The big scary horses.

About to crush him to death.

Time felt slow.

I got there.

Then PAIN.

Far away, people were screaming. A child was crying. Small and terrified in my arms. Some arrogant voice was first demanding, then stuttering, then begging. A frantic voice, joined by others. Rich perfume. The... the child reaching for someone. Safe? Safe. I let go. Tried to smile. Ah... my daughters voice. Crying. Shhhh, shhhh. I'm sorry. It's okay. I'm sorry.

Ah... there... there was so much blood.....

Then there was LIGHT.

Like someone had cupped the sky itself and poured it directly onto me. Blue. So light and weightless and blue. The pain vanished as though erased. New agony and old aches alike. My eyes blinked open in suprise. And there? Tear stained and glowing? Was my daughter.

Like the sky itself had wrapped around her. Sunlight and blue sky and drifting clouds. Swirling like she was the world itself. Her eyes filled with tears when they connected with mine. With a choked cry, she through herself into my arms. Oh, baby. My poor baby. I wrapped my arms around her tight. Hugged her back for all I was worth.

"Your daughter?" A gentle voice asked.

I looked up. What HAD to be a noble woman sat, skirts ruined, in the dirt and blood at my head. Clutching desperately at the toddler I had saved. I could only nod. Understanding passed between us. Mother to mother.

Which is why, when a priest with covetous eyes came forward?

The noble women's smile turned cold.

She had changed her mind. She was, in fact, going to have her son tested by the temple closer to home. AND? She was going to be taking us with her. I agreed. Immediately and before anyone could try to seperate us. Daughter mine, darling, honey, Get In The Carriage. NOW.

We got out of there while the getting was still possible.

It was safe to assume, my new noble friend eventually said, that my daughter had magic. But what did that mean for us? Well, according to Nation Law? (Oh goodie. Laws I know nothing about.) She would have to attend the Royal Magica Academy.

What.

I knew that name. I KNEW that name! My jaw was surely on the floor, my daughter squeeking out flustered and rambling questions at my side. But... but all I could do? Was slowly turn to look at her. She was healthier then the game cover. Not as "that's not what real women look like!" Thin that... that in hindsight? Was probably prolonged food scarcity. Starvation.

She was taller too. Less... oh god, less "child like". That had to have been malnutrition. Stunted growth.

The way her hair shown, soft and healthy. The brightness to her skin and nails. Clarity to her eyes. Fullness to her cheeks. She was hardly even within sight of being a plump child, more muscle then anything, from a life of work and survival, but? She wasn't... waifish. I had made sure of that.

Even if it meant sacrificing my own meals to do so.

But I could SEE it. Could SEE the familiar features. The curling hair and doe like grey eyes. The generic princess character that I had been playing right before... before... God, I couldn't even remember the game's NAME. Just the plot. It had been mid at best. Magnificent art. Everyone raving there was some secret twist after the first play through.

So I grit my teeth a pushed through the generic. Tried to figure out what it was.

Never did get the chance. I died before the second play through and the twist everyone insisted made the game awesome. Now I wish I had caved and looked up spoilers. I tried to remember the mother. Did she die? What happens to my baby girl? Should I push her towards one man or another? Let her follow her heart?

It's a long, long night.

We stay in a guest room. Fancier then anything I've ever seen in this life. I keep my daughter calm. Help her avoid embarrassing herself. Tips for when in doubt. See, honey? It's a learning opportunity! No need to panic! Mama's certainly not, on the inside! She's very calm. Completely, utterly, definitely very ultra calm. Ha ha...

I think my soul had a panic attack.

Things moved very quickly after that. In the end, they had too, if I was to keep my daughter safe. The temple would want to train her. Her magic was apparently quite rare. Religiously significant. And being so lovely? She would make an EXCELLENT propaganda peice. A figurehead and puppet, forevermore in gilded chains.

Everything I feared for her.

No. That was NOT going to happen.

The Academy it was. Nobles and their games aside. The education would be unparalleled. She could probably even make friends. Possibly find love. I told her to Be CAREFUL. That is was a treacherous but beautiful place. Filled with powerful people used to getting their way. Do whatever she must to survive. Thrive. Be happy.

And remember, she is loved.

I...Returning home alone felt like ripping my heart out. I had thought I would have years, yet, before my daughter married and moved out. That I would have time to adjust. Get used to the idea, as my future son-in-law came around. Instead? I returned from a trip to emptiness. A life interrupted.

My daughters sewing, still resting, waiting for her, on the kitchen table.

I collapsed. Weeping. In the entryway.

My tiny home had never felt so vast and hollow.

Days passed. Then weeks. Finally, a letter arrived. Delivered by a very uncomfortable servant. The man checking more then once if I was TRUELY who he was supposed to deliver too. Clearly more then a little uncomfortable in the presence of such poverty. I did not care. I had a letter, thick with writing, from my daughter.

She was doing well.

MORE then well. My lessons had actually put her ahead of the curve in several classes, much to the shock and outrage of her peers. They had expected poverty to equal mental deficiency, it seems. And the library was quickly making up for any classes she was behind in. That's my girl!

She had made several friends that way. Quiet young ladies, willing to help her make sense of the complexities of history or magical theory. From nice, stable, neutral houses, too. No tea parties yet. Or boys. But I didn't care.

My baby had FRIENDS!

I sent a care package of her things back. Not indiscriminately, of course. But tools and notes, a few unfinished projects she had been working on to pass the time. Some snacks from home. They would likely still embarrass her somewhat, but... I did not want her to think I did not CARE. That I had tossed her towards that Academy and promptly forgotten her.

The servant, Geoffrey, and I got to see quite a lot of each other.

He got over the state of my house rather quickly. Instead, started bringing things he "just happened to have lying around" that would you look at THAT? I happened to need! Between letters on my daughter's meeting, then dramas, with pretty wealthy boys? Geoffrey helped me repair my roof. I mended his uniform. We shared new year's festivities together.

I even went to the actual festival, like I was some sort of lovely young thing.

As my daughter grew closer to graduation, the questions started. If I could go anywhere, where would it be? If I could do anything? What if I never had to work again? I wasn't a fool. Told her in no uncertain terms. If I EVER suspected she married for anything less then love and herself, I would disown her.

I did not sacrifice so that my daughter would SUFFER.

However... it seemed there was more then a few things my daughter had left from her letters. The next letter arrived in the hand of a man that wore Geoffrey's face, but even as I walked back towards my cabin from the forest... I knew.

That was not the man I had grown to love.

When the imposter turned, no doubt to lie, I RAN. Dropping my harvest of foraged wild greens. I had been planning to make a dish for him. One he was fond off. Perhaps my daughter's magic came from me, my line instead of her unknown father, or perhaps I had just enough to give it wings. To carry her to term.

Because...

I knew he was dead.

They pursued me. Of course they did. But this was a forest I had wandered for years. I lost them in the trees. Attacked them with rocks and stones. Destroyed my trails with rocks and rivers. Every hunter I crossed paths with an ally. Every hunting trap a peril I could lead them into. They were good.

I was better.

But more came.

Then more. And more. And MORE.

And I was not so good as to fend of a legion. I would not risk the village for some nobles scheme. I was dragged, bloody, bruised before some arrogant little sadist. A nasty little creature, like a porcelain doll filled with bile. What an utter waste of good fabric. I told her as much. Interrupt her sneering little monolog.

The backhand across the face barely hurt.

Toddlers had more muscle.

Unfortunate for this brat. My daughter had arrived in time to see that. And worse for this brat, she brought her friends and suitors. A veritable crowd of power and influence. The brat did not have the common sense to shut up while she was ahead. Even I, a peasant, could recognize royalty on sight. There were at least two of them before us.

MY daughter was not as merciful as the Cannon Protagonist had been.

It was a blood bath.

I tried to stay awake. Head wounds and all that. I... I had wanted to introduce Geoffrey to my daughter. Hinted at it, over my letters. I would... would never get the chance now... oh god. Geoff. Geoff, forgive me. Tears welled up. I could not stop them. Just as I could not stand. Just as I could not move...

I was... was rather useless... wasn't I?

Familiar yet no longer familiar arms threw themselves around me. Cradled me close to a softly perfumed chest, locks of hair I'd know anywhere, shielding me from the world.

"Mama..." my little girl said. Her voice the very picture of heartbreak. "I'm sorry. I... I was too late."

One of her suitors untied me. The knight, probably, from the calluses I felt. But all I could think about was, wrapping my daught in my arms. Together for the first time in years. And it had to be like THIS? Oh gods. Why was fate so cruel?

My little girl had grown so big.

This was a grown woman in my arms.

I just... I just wanted this terrible night to END. And as my daughters power slid over me? It did.

I woke up in a guest room. He dear friend Agatha had INSISTED. Geoffrey had worked for her family. It... it brought relief. To mourn with people who had known him. He had apparently spoken of me. Quite often. The sap.

It... it wasn't fair.

But when was life ever fair?

My daughter visisted. Now that i was finally closer. Her suitors dropped by, to pay their respects I think. Possibly win me over, as mother of their lady love. They were awkward little things. It was adorable. I was patient. Listened. Prodded them when then froze up, uncertain of what to talk about. Got them rambling about their hobbies. Really, it was no great difference then most shy kids.

The visited more. Stayed longer.

Brought gifts.

The gifts were expensive, elaborate, and wildly impractical. I was forced to gently explain why I, a peasant woman, could NOT accept their gift of fist size gemstones. It started with "I will be robbed" and ended with "they WILL be certain I stole these, no matter WHAT documentation you give me. I will die". They were very confused and alarmed. Much like puppies learning that suddenly treats were somehow illegal.

Agatha herself? Was a delight.

A very "mob" looking young lady with a sharp wit and an old man's sense of humor. Her personal maid was Geoffrey's niece. That neither held against me what had happened? Spoke of both of their maturity and grace. They WOULD however, never forgive the house that ordered the attack. I much agreed.

I considered, going back to the village, but...

The memories were too raw there.

I decided to follow my daughter, settle near wherever she decided to go. She seemed thrilled at the idea. Somehow, word spread. On the next visit, the future "head of the mage's tower" and man of entirely too many titles, Valtaan mentions an estate he owns near the Tower. How it lies empty. Would be the PERFECT place for a mother-in-law, you know... if he had one. Lovely gardens!

Oh, really?

Then, the Knight mentions how HE'S going to be stationed up North. In a Great Big Fortress with SO many rooms. Just... just SO MANY. Entirely too many, really. Honestly, he should bring more people! Like a wife! And... and a Mother-in-law! Really fill up the place, you know?

Mmmmhmmm.

The Prime Minister to be? Oh HE talks of TRAVEL. Ever considered traveling? The Embassies are LOVELY. So much to DO around them. Foreign lands, beautiful locals, silks and lovely little treats.

You don't say....

The Duke is blunt about it, at least.

I have a castle. I have SEVERAL castles. Estates. He is aware you are not motivated by that, but it does leave you with options for where you want to live should your daughter decide to marry him. And he DOES intend to marry my daughter. Second husband if not the first. Motivated, aren't we?

I politely infor both prince's, the SECOND they sit down, before they open their mouth, that I like them. I do. A lot in fact. But it's not going to happen. It'll be a cold day in hell the day I let my daughter marry into the royal family and they both know exactly why. They pause... consider it. Then nod.

They agree.

Wouldn't wish this life upon ANYONE who had a chance at something better.

My daughter graduates, with HONORS. There is much gnashing are rending of clothes from the elitist base. Ha! Get fucked. I STILL have no idea what the "twist" is in the plot or if I was being punked. Also not a single clue which, if any, of her suitors she's chosen. Could be all of um. I could care less so long as everyone consents and is aware of each other.

The graduation party is, naturally, grand. I'm in a dress one of the suitors likely bought for me. Somehow, I actually look like I belong. Instead of dancing and reveling, my munchkins hover. As though afraid to leave me alone at my first Big Girl Party. I laugh, trying to shoo them away. Go, go!

My daughter stubbornly shakes her head, leaning against me, her dress complimenting mine. Though I doubt I could be half as lovely.

"Noooo~ I refuse! I will be staying Right HERE, Mama!" Her voice is playful but... there's something strained. Desperate, that's never really gone away I think. Not since the accident. "What if someone tries to take you AWAY? You're too pretty! You gotta stay with US, mama!"

I laugh out loud, completely missing the interested looks that glance my way. Well to do gentleman, widowers and respected servants alike. Long time bachelor's, who's eyes linger a touch too long on the length of my neck, the curve of shoulder. The way it dips down, past my collarbones towards someplace... interesting.

My crowd of young protectors DO NOT miss the looks.

Bristle like angry cats. Eye venomous and society smiles sharp enough too cut glass. There is a murder to their expression. A command to Look Away.

While you still have EYES.

"No, Mama." My daughter insists when I try to tell her she's wrong. That I am far from desirable. "I'm not letting go. Not EVER. We're FAMILY. And that means? That means you're MINE."

[loriache]

honestly i'm kind of interested in the idea of laios in an arranged marriage. because obviously straight-up inherited monarchies are ...bad, to say the least! but it's what the characters are familiar with (even laios' father's extremely local, extremely minor leadership role is inherited, presumably through the male line). and it isn't just about what they think the best way to run melini is; in terms of ensuring that the other longed-lived nations respect melini's continued sovereignty, having it passed down in a manner that's close enough to their own ways for them to understand it and respect it is important. And it seems like most of the other nations have leadership through inheritance - thought that isn't confirmed for certain except with the elves.

Also, a marriage carries the potential to establish foreign allies - something melini is certainly lacking. A marriage could come with resources they'll badly need, treaties of mutual defence, money, legitimacy and political capital... not that these things can't be worked around, but if laios isn't strongly opposed, there are a lot of advantages! and i don't think he would be, because that's the framework for marriage (conferring practical advantages, building intracommunity relationships and providing a partner to do important work that he can't do) that he had grown up with. he isn't exactly a romantic and I doubt he's holding out for any sort of relationship of that nature.

Like, I don't think it's impossible that they would go with this path, because it's the most obvious and it carries a lot of advantages and it's what almost all the decision-making characters would consider normal and not objectionable. and it could be so interesting.

I think Laios would have major hangups if expected (i.e., by Marcille) to establish a genuine, romantic interest in a woman. Whether because of his sexual or romantic orientation, or just his own deep-seated trauma about rejection and being inherently disgusting and scary. And I think he'd hate the idea of having kids, too, and be very frightened of being like his father. But I don't think he'd refuse on that basis; he could cope with a marriage contract, with clearly laid-out expectations and responsibilities. And when it came to having a kid, I think he'd be reluctant to express that he doesn't want to do it, because he isn't naive and he understood when he agreed to be king it would carry responsibilities like this. It's clear from his nightmare that he already felt pressure from his parents to have children, probably magnified by the fact his father has got a position, responsibilities and wealth to pass on. Obviously he isn't a perfect martyr, so he might struggle when it comes to actually going through with it - but I don't think he'd actually, outright refuse. I think he might do it even though he doesn't want to, and I think that could be really messy in a way that appeals to me.

I don't know, there's something about negotiating these kinds of complicated situations that's interesting to me. and i love a platonic marriage. If they find a woman who has an interest in education, for example, and can work with marcille on setting up schools and universities. she'd ideally be politically savvy enough to be an able partner to laios: even though kabru can and would continue to do a lot of that, there are different spheres that a queen and a prime minister can work within!

how would their relationship work? maybe she finds laios' perspective on the world, and his frankness, unexpectedly liberating after an extremely controlled, cloistered upbringing. maybe she had a rebellious phase, has magic, or something else which makes her a relatively unpopular candidate for marriage - even as melini grows in power, i doubt that they'd be getting offers for the cream of the crop in terms of perceived value on the marriage market, because laios' relationship is a bit too ambivalent/monstrous for that, and melini too new. maybe she's a widow! an older woman, wouldn't that be cool - though they'd want her young enough that she could definitely still have kids.

certainly i think he'd be happy for her to pursue other relationships, though ideally in a manner that couldn't produce illegitimate kids. with other relationships in play, that's even more interesting. like, both kabru and toshiro have complicated emotions relating to infidelity. i think kabru would actually find it quite cathartic to be in the kind of high-status environment that rejected his mother for perceived infidelity, pursuing an affair that all parties consent to, though he'd likely be incredibly aware of the public image - since "image" is what he was rejected for. toshiro... i just really really love the way he'd feel about being the "other woman" in laios' marriage, considering his feelings about his father and maizuru. especially given how much closer he is to maizuru than his mother, being in her position...! his emotions would be so complex, it's incredibly tasty. i bet he'd make a bunch of assumptions about how laios' wife feels about it and be totally wrong, and that's so interesting. also, i think laios' wife should fuck marcille (she and falin have an open relationship).

[pinkiemachine]

Hi- it's the anon who asked about potential Dami love interests. I'd LOVE to hear more!!!

*cracks knuckles*

Dear little Damian is a troubled soul, and sadly he takes after both his parents. A travesty, I know. When trying to root around the comics and surrounding media for that one perfect love interest that everyone agrees on, I didn’t find anything except maybe Flatline, but even that’s not unanimous, and I myself am part of the reason it’s not unanimous. When I thought about it reeeally hard, I realised why the idea of putting Damian in a relationship at all has felt so tricky up until now. In short: kid’s messed up and probably shouldn’t be dating at all. A travesty, I know.

But I didn’t let that stop me!

I’m just kidding, I did, BUT THEN I had a BETTER idea!

Ahem, ahem…

Chapter 1:

In my AU, the story goes like this: Damian had never given love a second thought. He was told that one day he would need to marry to continue the Al Ghul bloodline, but nothing more. Actually, it was entirely possible that he would wind up in an arranged marriage, so it was something he really, really hadn’t bothered to think about. Then, when he turned 14, he joined the Teen Titans as their leader and met Princess Amethyst. Heir to the throne of Gemworld, temporarily on Earth due to story shenanigans, but must go back home eventually to reclaim her kingdom.

Amethyst (or Amy) became a member of the TT shortly after arriving on Earth, and at first, Damian purely saw her as an underling, but Amethyst, oh, she didn’t stand for that. See, she was raised in the courts of the Gem Palace. She had received the best education money could buy, she had been personally tutored in magic since the age of four, and she was a well-bred young lady. Whenever Damian wanted to, he got lippy and snarky and smarter-than-you toward just about anyone, but when he did it to Amy, he got back what he served and then some. Amy didn’t shrink from his angry, snide tone, she didn’t hesitate when he got philosophical or witty, she could spit facts and wax poetically as fast as he could, and she didn’t take any of his insults lying down. The other Teen Titans would often stand on the sidelines in fear and morbid entertainment as they watched the two of them go back and forth, arguing for hours sometimes. Honestly, if you asked any of them if Damian and Amy got along, they’d probably tell you they were mortal enemies. And yet, both of them found themselves willingly plunging into each argument as if they had been eagerly awaiting it. As if this other person was the first person in a long time who could actually stand on their intellectual level and not bat en eye.

Well, a few missions go by and this remains the status quo. No major relationship changes of any kind, just lots of back and forth banter.

BUT THEN—

The TT were on one mission in particular and it involved a shapeshifter. It’s nighttime, the team is in this big old abandoned building, they know this shapeshifter character is around somewhere, then they get attacked, and the group is split. Damian and Amethyst wind up alone. Together. In a section of the building. Amy suddenly appears distraught. She turns to Damian, blinking her big eyes, and while no one else is around to hear her she asks if he’s ever… felt for another person before. Damian… stares blankly at her. “Uh…” (Internally, warning bells are blaring, and he doesn’t know what to do.) Amy comes closer to him, and asks him if he’s ever felt… like he wanted to kiss someone before. Damian continues to stare blankly. “Uh…” (Inwardly, there are no more thoughts, only panic and melt down! He was never trained for this!) Amy hesitates, feeling sure that he wouldn’t understand, and for a moment, Damian thinks he’s in the clear, but then Amy changes her mind, musters her courage, and kisses him! Goosebumps. Hair standing on end. Fireworks. The whole shebang! …And then Damian falls unconscious. Yeah, that wasn’t Amethyst. That was the shapeshifter! It’s Nobody, by the way 👇 Yeah, I wanted to give her shapeshifting, because I think it would be cool for her character and other plot related reasons… see previous.

Anyway, so Damian wakes up after the mission, having been totally blindsided by Nobody, tricking him into kissing who he thought was Amy, and now he doesn’t know what to do with all that! So he pretends it never happened. No one else needs to know. And yet, he can’t help but feel some type of way whenever Amy walks by. He can’t even argue with her anymore—it makes him feel too weird! So he starts avoiding her like the plague. He doesn’t talk to her, he doesn’t look at her, she might as well not exist to him! And this… was not the smartest idea.

Ever since joining the team and meeting Damian, Amy’s felt the full sting of his insults and attacks. She’d never admit it, of course, and she tries her best to not let him get to her, but after weeks and weeks and weeks of this, she’d be lying if she said his words didn’t chip away at her heart just a little bit, wearing down her self esteem. And now, with Damian ignoring her, it only made things worse. He hated her. She was sure of it. He hated her and he wished she had never joined the team, and maybe it would better if she’d never come at all. Again, she locked these feelings away, trying her best to ignore them, but they were still there, waiting for their opportunity to make a mess, and make a mess they did.

It all came to a head after the TT came back from a botched mission. Damian was in a particularly bad mood and was tearing into some of his teammates, lecturing them about what they did wrong, and then Amy stepped up to defend them. That was the first time in weeks Damian acknowledged her, and he was savage. He didn’t pull any punches—he said aloud every single thing Amy most dreaded to hear. “You’re a burden to this team! You don’t know what you’re doing! It would be better if you’d never come to Earth at all!” Everything short of saying “I hate you.” And Amy… usually so resilient and proud and strong… finally broke. Tears slipped out before she could stop them, and she ran from the room, embarrassed. The other Titans were furious with Damian, and went to go console Amy. Even Jon, who tried his best to be patient with his friend because he knew about his awful upbringing, couldn’t defend him this time. He’d gone too far and been unnecessarily mean to someone who had only ever tried to be his friend. Jon was going to go join the others consoling her.

Damian flew back to Gotham in a rage. He spent three hours on the training course, then went up to his room and slammed the door shut. Alfred could see what was wrong the moment he set foot in the house, so he called Nightwing, hoping that the two of them could have a little chat. And chat they did. They snuck out on patrol together and Dick prodded the truth out of Damian, but he insisted that he hadn’t done anything wrong! Amy overreacted! It wasn’t his fault! Dick had to have a very long talk with him that night, and what Damian took away from it was this: Amy was his teammate, but more than that she was his friend. He can’t go around insulting her and making her cry, and the only way to stop being mean to her is to learn how to care about her and her feelings. This is a difficult concept for Damian to grasp.

The next day, Damian goes to Jon and asks him about “caring.” How does one do it? Jon does his best to explain, though he doesn’t put it quite so eloquently, and then he asks why Damian wants to know. Is this about Amy? Hmm? Does he want to care about Amy? Does he secretly like Amy? HMMM???

Damian reacts with nothing but hostility at first, rejecting such an utterly ridiculous idea, but then… he remembers the night he thought he had kissed Amy… and then he started recalling so many other things about Amy… things he admired about her… and he had to take a step back. Holy cow. He did like her. He made Jon swear to never, ever tell anyone about this under any circumstances, ever. This was a secret he would take to his grave. Especially since… Amy would leave one day, anyway. She had her kingdom to go home to. Rule as queen…

So following that conversation, Damian then goes to find Amy and apologise to her, but it doesn’t go well. Amy wants the truth out of him. No more insults or arguments or beating around the bush, she wanted to know exactly what Damian really thought of her. The truth! But Damian couldn’t tell her. She asked again. And again, he just couldn’t tell her. She left him, saying “I’ll think about accepting your apology.”

For a while, nothing more was said about it. An uneasy peace had been negotiated between the two, and while their constant ignoring of one another left the rest of the team feeling uneasy, it was at least a small improvement from constant arguing.

Finally, something came along to help set things right. During one of the big season finales, Amethyst is in mortal danger. Damian, seeing no other alternative, dives headfirst into danger, taking a bullet for her and saving her life. Amethyst refused to leave his bedside while he recovered, but once he did wake up, she made herself scarce. She was beyond grateful to him, but she couldn’t tell him that. To his face, anyway. Damian knew she was just beyond the med room door, though. He understood how she felt, and he knew the flowers by his bed were from her. He’d never appreciated flowers more in his life. But he couldn’t tell her that. Not to her face, anyway.

From that day on, Damian and Amy were on continuously improving terms, and every once in a while it wasn’t unusual for one or the other to find a gift left for them in their room or their Titans locker. Small things, usually. Get-well-soon gifts after getting injured in battle for example. They argued less, but they still never spoke to one another. Casually, that is. During missions, it was a necessity, but now they found themselves agreeing on battle strategies instead of butting heads all the time. The rest of the team was speechless.

However, all good things must come to an end. By the end of the Ultimate Teen Titans run, Amethyst’s kingdom is saved, and it’s time for her to go home and become queen. She can no longer be a Teen Titan. As she stands by the portal, waiting to take her home, she says one final goodbye to all her friends she’s come to love over the course of her stay. Lorena and Jenny… Jon, Jaime, and Virgil… and then there’s Damian. Team Captain. She gave hugs to all the others, but when she gets to Damian, she falters. In the end, all she can muster is a handshake, and all Damian can think to do is accept it. She says goodbye. He says goodbye. Even though there’s much more they wanted to say… it almost felt too cruel to say it now, on the verge of her leaving. So, Amy turns and starts walking… but that’s when Damian felt his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he’d regret not saying something now while he could—he needed to say something quickly!

“Amy!”

She turned around at once, hoping desperately that he would say the words they had both left hanging in the air. She wanted him to tell her not to go… he wanted to beg her to stay… but…

“…I… take care of yourself…”

At once, Amy’s spirits fell so low, it was just unbearable. With a quivering lip, she gave him a smile, said, “You too,” and then vanished into the portal.

Damian was left standing there, still in shock.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Bruce would routinely go looking for Damian and find him in his room, curled up on the floor by his fireplace. Titus the Great Dane was usually close by. Damian would never admit it in a million years, but Bruce knew he had been crying, at least the first time, right after Amy had left. After that… he was in a deep depression and barely ate, barely slept, and barely went outside. He would get back into the swing of things eventually—he was the son of Batman and Talia Al Ghul for pity’s sake—but for those few weeks… while he was alone… he was just a 14-year-old boy who was beating himself up over missing his last shot to tell Amy… he loved her. And now she was gone forever.

End of Chapter 1.

PART 2 👇

[1bibypersecond]

I just don’t get how they built such a beautiful connection between Viktor and Sky (or HexcoreSky, whatever you want to call her) in Acts 1 and 2, only to destroy it all in Episode 8 with a super rushed goodbye, and then give us a Viktor without humanity for just one episode (or half, really). And then, his "best friend" suddenly accepts him as he is when Sky had done that all along?

Like, if they were going to do that, they should’ve just written Sky out way earlier and let us have this no-humanity Viktor on screen for way longer. And don’t even get me started on the fandom. They don’t get that it was Ekko who saved Viktor, not Jayce. Ekko was the one stepping out of Viktor’s equation, not Jayce. Plus, in Season 1, the mage that gave Jayce the rune design was based on Ryze, so that whole Viktor Doctor Strange time-travel vibe in Episode 9 just felt... so bland. I’m over the whole time-travel trope—it’s so overused that it’s boring. I always knew Ekko would be the one to do it because that’s his whole character, but Viktor? Ugh, it felt like they were trying to wrap everything up way too quickly in the last episode, so they just threw in time-rewinding to make it all fit. Honestly, I rolled my eyes so hard when Viktor started his speech to Jayce about the different timelines. I was like, "Oh no, here we go."

Honestly, I get why League of Legends fans didn’t like Viktor’s rework. Mechanical Herald Viktor was way more tied to the social inequality conflict between Zaun and Piltover, something I was really hoping they’d explore in more depth. The new Viktor is much more connected to the arcane and magic, which is fine—I like cult-leader Viktor—but it loses that important conflict we saw in Season 1.

We were all excited to see Viktor’s final evolution, which lasted… half an episode? Why? Like I said, they could’ve written Sky out way earlier, given that her ending was so lackluster, and spent more time exploring this emotionless being. Maybe he was just too OP and they couldn’t keep his superpowers on-screen for too long without completely wrecking the world. I get that. Machine Viktor could’ve lasted longer because he wasn’t tied to those arcane powers.

I get it, the show is called Arcane, but the conflict between Zaun and Piltover made it feel so much more relatable. As someone from Latin America, watching how northern hemisphere countries pollute my country, dump their waste here, and have companies that destroy our environment (it's not like we don't do it to ourselves but it's still a form of oppression)—it’s a form of first-world oppression that I saw reflected in Season 1 of Arcane. But Season 2? It felt so distant. Magic isn’t real in real life, and yet Season 1 balanced magic so well that it still resonated with issues like social, economic, educational, and environmental oppression. Season 2, though, started to drift away from that. Sure, at first, you see more of that Zaun/Piltover conflict, especially with Caitlyn and the oppressive martial law (because yes, that’s literally a dictatorship). But then Jayce swoops in like, “Hey, we’ve got a bigger enemy, let’s team up,” and boom—Marvel finale.

Anyway, these are just some fever-induced thoughts I’ve been having. My ideal ending? Viktor slowly becoming Singed, like they hinted in Season 1 with that “I understand now” line. Viktor as the Herald, tucked away in a corner of Zaun like Singed, secretly helping people—not driven by feelings or morality, but by a greater good: helping those in need. Meanwhile, his humanity (Sky) tries to find him somewhere deep in his mind, ultimately leading to the creation of Blitzcrank. That’s what I thought we were getting. Instead, we got astral destruction and a bromance. Oh well, it is what it is.

[funpoire]

꒰ ‎﹒Iris Dikaiosyni presentation !!

Feel free to ask questions about her

Inpiration

Intro

Iris is from the Kingdom of Heroes. Before coming to RSA, she was homeschooled and never had a normal education in a public place. Her parents want her to work in the same place as them when she is an adult. They decided to take care of her education alone so she is ready to take the lead. Because of this Iris have never really thought for herself before coming to college. Her interest is mostly flowers. She likes to assign people blossoms and take them very seriously in the art of flower Language. She also has a very strong sense of justice. Something her family always taught her. As much as she is pretty socially awkward considering the fact she had little to no social interaction. She managed to have some friends and work on how to communicate with people. RSA helped her become a new person and discover herself. Changing her hair which was naturally pink now are red, changed the way she dressed, and even tried to find good makeup. She also watches a lot of movies talking about entering school so she understands better how things work. She just thought that part where all the school was singing was maybe too much so erase it on her list of stuff to do for the first day.

Before coming to RSA Iris decided to change completely her look.

The first day there was very hard for her considering the amount of people and the feeling of being lonely. After a few weeks, she managed to insert herself into a group of friends.

Names and Aliases

Full Name: Iris Dikaiosyni

Characteristics

Gender: cis woman

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 16

DoB: 9 May

Sign: Taurus

S.O.: ???

Height: 1m68

Alignment: Lawful good

Occupation: Student

Hometown: Kingdom of Heroes

School

Dorm:?

School Year: Freshman

Class: Class 1-C

Club: Botanic

Best Subject: practical magic

Connexion

Relatives

Unnamed mom

Unnamed dad

Friends

Neige Leblanche (good friends)

Fun-fact

Dominant Hand: Left

Favorite Food: Chocolate cake (Sokolapita) or anything with a lot of chocolate

Least Favorite: Black licorice

Design

Masterlist

It have a long time since i post oc content but i am back !

[highprincessofthenightcourt]

Okay, so I was thinking about SJM’s writing and how some parts of it are surprisingly heavy and realistic. That got me spiraling into thoughts about her tendency to self-insert into her characters—something that shows up often in her books.

A while back, I fell down a rabbit hole researching her life and career, and that’s where I learned a lot of what I’m about to talk about. So, SJM was adopted—her exact age at the time isn’t totally clear, but it seems to have been sometime before or during her teenage years. She was adopted by a lawyer and a judge who lived in Manhattan. They gave her a high quality education and introduced her to the arts by taking her to museums, ballets, and operas.

In one interview, Sarah mentioned that although she already loved literature, it was after witnessing a tragic event in New York that she really leaned into fantasy as a form of escapism—a way to cope. During her freshman year of college, she met her now husband (he was an RA in her dorm), and two years after graduating, they got married and started their family.

Now, tying this into ACOTAR: I think aspects of her personal journey show up in Feyre’s story. Imagine the emotional adjustment of going from being in the adoption system to suddenly living in a wealthy home in a city as vibrant as Manhattan—that shift must’ve been intense. And I see echoes of that in Feyre’s transformation: from neglect and isolation (maybe even including things like not being taught to read early on or living in poor conditions), to a life full of love, magic, and purpose. Velaris could easily be a fantasy coded Manhattan—it’s where Feyre finds herself, her family, and her true love.

Then there’s the Archeron sisters, and what parts of SJM they might represent. We know that when the first book was in the works, Nesta and Elain weren’t meant to be much more than “evil stepsisters.” But later on, Sarah decided to give them more depth, and to do that, she had to dig deeper into herself and her own experiences. I imagine that was hard—Feyre was her ideal self, and her arc was so solid: full of growth, realism, and beauty. So when it came time to flesh out the other sisters, it must’ve been difficult to know what pieces of herself to put into them.

To me, it almost feels like the sisters ended up embodying two extremes of her personality—one representing her worst traits, the other her best. And while that’s interesting, it becomes a little problematic because Feyre feels like a full, real person—flaws and all—while the sisters can feel confined to certain “roles.” That limitation kind of hurt their development.

We saw some of this in the last spin-off. The arc didn’t fully land for me—it felt like Sarah kept needing to remind us that the character was “bad,” and it got in the way of any real growth. Maybe she worried that if she let her grow too much, she’d start feeling too much like Feyre? I just hope this pattern doesn’t repeat in Elain’s book. I want her to be her own person—not boxed into a trope, but allowed to be messy and real, with good and bad and everything in between.

And honestly… I haven’t fully figured this part out, but sometimes it feels like through her storytelling, SJM is processing different eras of her life. Feyre might represent the full scope of her journey—her whole life, so to speak. Meanwhile, one sister feels like adolescence: all rebellion, insecurity, aggression. The other feels like childhood: blissful ignorance, wide-eyed hope, and gentleness.

Idk. I’ve written a whole damn essay and I’m still not sure what I’m trying to say. But yeah—just something that’s been rattling around in my head.