#how long did yours last?

[blooming-bruises]

Fun lab whump game: How long can Whumpee stay awake without anesthesia or going into shock?

[pineapple-frenzy]

Book 2 au: sparring sessions and short hair katara

They like to have sparring sessions in order to keep their bending skills sharp. They allow themselves to go all out and not hold back at all cause they know if anyone got hurt, Katara could just heal them

But anyways, wouldn't it be kinda funny if Zuko accidentally burned Katara's hair tho? Aofkqldkkajfjd

The "I think we can save the hairloops" line is from @linnoya-writes thank you for that!! :>>

[petricorah]

scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]

[yourlocalabomination]

I am not immune to funny crackships.

+ Bonus

[maingh0st]

not to be morbid but I'm thinking about Madoc soaking his cap in the blood of the murdered Duarte parents and like. I'm not a scientist, but wouldn't that make things absolutely wack from a forensics standpoint? imagine that you're investigating a double-murder triple-kidnapping (the kind of case that goes down in true crime history), and you're running every test you can possibly think of because the trail has gone cold as ice, and—what's that? there's traces of.... a bunch of other people's blood?? in the murder victims' blood???

again I am neither scientist nor detective but soaking a cap crusted with the blood of all your past enemies into a pool of fresh blood has to leave a trace, right?????

[fatedroses]

And some days, I just wish you wouldn't look at me at all.

[yasmindifference]

Cheer up prompt #27

An anon and @this-was-a-terrible-idea also requested #27! A popular number apparently lol. I hope you all enjoy! ♡

"--and then Mr. Browsten said that with all the, um, the hullabaloo that it wasn't fair to make us take a test, so he cancelled it."

Tim pauses for breath and Mom hums an encouraging noise. When Dad makes that sound, it means he's not really listening, but he knows Mom's paying attention, even though she hasn't stopped curling her hair. From where he's lying on her bed, he can see her reflection in the vanity mirror, and she's frowning just like he knew she would.

Mom doesn't approve of canceling tests, which means she doesn't approve of Mr. Browsten, because he cancels them all the time.

(Mom says tests are important to know where improvement is necessary. Mr. Browsten doesn't seem to agree.)

"So we watched a documentary instead and it was pretty interesting, it was about puffer fish! Sarah asked what puffer fish have to do with grammar and Mr. Browsten said that learning is its own reward, but I think he just didn't have anything else ready so he took something from Ms. Cappola instead. She's the fifth grade science teacher and I heard her classes watch movies at least twice a week."

Mom tuts, which Tim was expecting, and sets down her curling iron.

"Ridiculous," she mutters. "I don't know why we're paying that school so much in tuition when they can't be bothered to teach you anything. It's a miracle you ever learned to read."

"It's because I'm smart," Tim informs her helpfully, and Mom smiles her special just-for-Tim smile.

"You are," she agrees. "And thank goodness for that. Now, would my smart boy do me a favor?"

Because Tim's smart, he already knows what she's going to ask. He rolls off the bed to his feet. "Curling iron?"

"Yes, please." Mom rolls her chair away from the vanity so he can crawl under it to unplug the curling iron. She plugged it in herself, but that was before she was all dressed up in her expensive dress. "Thank you, Timmy."

"You're welcome," he chirps, crawling back out.

Mom rolls back in front of the vanity, but Tim stays where he is, kneeling next to it so he can watch her put her makeup on. There are a lot of different bottles and brushes and powders involved, but Mom never hesitates. Tim doesn't know how she keeps it all straight.

He likes watching Mom get ready to go out. Sometimes--like tonight--she lets him pick out the jewelry she's gonna wear, and then she chooses her dress and hair and makeup all based on what he picked. Even when the colors don't match, it all fits together like a puzzle...a puzzle she pieces together in seconds after Tim's impulsive choice.

It's really cool.

Tonight, Tim picked pretty, dangly earrings with some kind of red stone (ruby, Mom said when he asked), so Mom picked a black dress. She said it would make the earrings pop, which he didn't get until he saw her wearing it.

Now, he watches her choose lipstick as red as the earrings and asks, "Does the lipstick make the earrings pop, too?"

Mom finishes smoothing it on before she smiles at him. "You tell me."

Tim studies her. The lipstick matches the earrings, but it doesn't draw attention to them the way the plain dress does. He already watched her do her eye stuff, and her eyes look bigger somehow, but they're not colorful like they were when they all went to the opera last week.

"No," he decides. "You went new...neutral?" He waits for her slight nod of confirmation, then continues, encouraged, "You went neutral with your eye stuff and red with your lipstick to make your lips pop."

"Very good," Mom says, smiling. She cups his cheek briefly before turning back to the vanity. "Clever boy."

Tim beams and watches in fascinated silence as she uses some kind of powder. Even though he's staring right at her, he can't tell what the powder actually does. All he knows is that when she's done, her face looks...different. Still pretty, but kinda sharper somehow.

Makeup is like magic, he decides. No matter how many times he watches her get ready, he can never figure it out.

"Can I try?" he asks impulsively.

"Try what?" Mom asks, a little distracted. The cap on one of her bottles is stuck and she's struggling to open it.

"Your makeup!" Tim takes the bottle from her and opens it by using the hem of his shirt to grip it better. Mom can't do that, her dress is all shiny and slippery. "You look pretty, I wanna try."

Mom pauses and then smiles.

"I don't have long before I have to leave," she warns him, "but I don't see why not. Do you want to pick out some lipstick?"

Tim absolutely does. He levers to his feet as, across the room, Dad finally stirs. He's been reading some stuff his assistant from Drake Industries brought by earlier, ignoring them both, but now he says, "Janet" in a weird tone.

"Jack?" Mom asks, even as she directs Tim's attention to the little circles on the bottom of her lipstick tubes that show what color they are. She has a lot of options.

"Janie, really," Dad says. He sounds unhappy, and Tim looks up from comparing two different shades of pink to find him frowning. "You can't mean to let our son--"

He stops mid-sentence and Tim bites back a wince. Dad's in trouble; Tim hasn't seen that look on Mom's face since he told her about his last nanny giving him whiskey to help him sleep when he woke up from bad dreams.

"My son," Mom says very deliberately, "is welcome to express himself however he likes."

Is trying makeup expressing himself? Tim just wants to see if it makes him as pretty as it does Mom.

Either way, that's not a good tone. Tim looks down and concentrates really hard on picking out a lipstick.

"Janet," Dad tries again, weakly. He obviously knows he's in Big Trouble, but for some reason he hasn't apologized yet. Tim tries to psychically tell him to cut his losses and back down, but his telepathy apparently still hasn't kicked in, because Dad says, "It's just that--"

"Do you know what you want to try, sweetheart?" Mom asks, completely ignoring Dad.

Tim looks between his parents, decides to let Dad dig his own grave, and hands Mom the red he settled on.

(If it's the red that most closely resembles the red in Robin's uniform...well, it's not like Mom has any way of knowing that.)

"Excellent choice!" Mom says. She stands up from the vanity and pats her chair. "Take a seat."

Tim does, excited. He's not usually allowed to sit at Mom's vanity.

Lipstick, he learns quickly, feels really weird. He has to sit super still while Mom puts it on him, and it makes his lips feel weirdly heavy, like there's something on them.

Which there is, actually, so...he doesn't know what he was expecting.

Mom hands him a tissue so he can "blot" his lips, just like he's seen her do a million times, and then steps aside so he can see his reflection in the mirror.

"Whoa," Tim says, leaning closer. He makes a few faces, pushing his lips together and out, transfixed by how bright and noticeable they are. It doesn't make him pretty like Mom, but he likes how it looks anyway. "Cool."

Behind him, Dad throws up his hands and leaves the room. He's angry, Tim can tell, but Mom is smiling down at him, so Tim's not worried.

"Do you want to pick eyeshadow next?" she asks.

"Yes, please!"

Prompt #27 was experimentation! Well selected! ♡♡

[caterpillarinacave]

They're all on a family plan

template credit (also in picture)

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 Damian

If you really think about, Damian's situation in the clone^2 au is... kinda tragic? Especially in the early months of his arrival. Like,,, think about it. Damian has always known he was a clone of Damian Wayne, that he was a copy of the blood son. There was nothing 'original' about him, not even his name (of which at least Danny has that). He was just... a replacement. A disposable one, to boot.

And he knew that, to an extent, by the time he was six years old. he might not have been actively acknowledging it -- he's six years old -- but deep down he knew. And like, he's six years old. Every small child craves the love and affection of an adult, especially their parents, and even though he knew he was clone, I imagine he still considered - and still does consider, somewhat - Talia and Bruce as his mother and father. And I really doubt he was... getting it?

Now, I know Talia loves Damian, her son. At least in some interpretations she does, and in this au she does. But... a clone of her son? I'm not so certain if she would have the same affection for baby Dames as she would for Damian. I don't think she would treat him badly, but I don't think Talia would treat him warmly either. Kinda just, distant. Colder than she would have been with OG Damian.

And, I know I've mentioned Damian's arrival from Danny's point of view, and its kind of comical kind of insane from his perspective -- a little boy clone of Damian Wayne falls through a portal and immediately attacks him. That sounds like a bad joke.

But, if you think of this from Damian's point of view? It's like he just got dropped into a scary movie. Like, think about it. You're six years old, and suddenly a portal, as green and as swirling as your grandfather's pools, opens up beneath your feet and sucks you through.

After an intense bout of vertigo, you end up in a massive, urban city -- completely different from the rural mountain palace that you lived in for the last six years of your life, and in this city, you don't know any of the language. You don't know what anyone is saying, you can't read any of the signs - you are completely stranded, away from home.

And then, to make things worse, you're facing a figure with a terrifying mask and eyes as burning green as the portal you fell through. Of course Damian's first instinct, six years old, is to attack. He's terrified.

And this figure, he's not a good fighter, but he's fast, and he dodges you quickly. He grabs your sword with his hands, and tries to restrain you, saying something in a language you don't know. Naturally, Damian is just scared. He's six! He'd just be learning how to read if he was normal child going to school.

This figure halfway through the fight yanks off his mask -- he realizes you're scared -- and looking at you now, is a youthful version of your father. This is a clone of your dad, someone you have never met but, six years old, still wants to. Damian gets defensive. This is an imposter.

But this imposter eventually gets you home with him - and he's using his little box, his phone, to communicate with you through a mechanical voice speaking in arabic. and it's frustrating. The boy, the imposter, can say whatever to you just fine, but trying to talk back is a hassle and a half. He's six, he doesn't have that much patience.

He wants to go home.

And so he keeps trying to run away. He keeps trying to find out of this hellish concrete jungle, and he keeps getting lost. It's loud, and busy, and there are people talking to you and you don't understand them, and there are rules and signs you don't understand - Damian tries to cross the street and nearly gets hit by a car. He doesn't know how the road signs work, he was never taught. They didn't get to that.

And he gets lost. And it gets dark, and Damian is brave, but he is six, and this is the worst stress he's been under in all his six years of life. He wants, desperately more than anything, to go home. Why wouldn't he? The only stable... semi-stable environment he was in just got ripped out from under his feet, literally! He wants his mother.

And it's not happening.

But there's something good to be said, at least. The imposter that looks like his father always comes and finds him, no matter what. He could have left that morning, and he will find Damian at midnight, frazzled and worried, and carrying an extra jacket with him because it is cold in Amity Park and Damian is six years old.

And sometimes Damian attacks him - he's scared and stressed and he doesn't want to be here. And every time he catches the sword. Even though Damian can see it cut into his hand and pearls of blood well up and stains his fingers. Even though Damian can see him wince in pain and bite his lip, he still catches it.

But with that little box, he coaxes Damian to come back with him. It's cold, it's dark, Amity Park is unsafe at night. They can figure something out tomorrow, please. And every time, he agrees, reluctantly. And the imposter takes the extra jacket he brought with -- a flannel, a hoodie, a jacket -- and he wraps it around him. It's warm, Damian's clothes are not that thick, and even though he thinks he might hate this imposter, he still sticks close to his legs as he leads him down the street.

And sometimes the imposter carries him, because Damian's shoes are not that thick, and he cuts his foot on broken glass while they're walking home. The imposter sits in the bathroom with him and carefully cleans the cut out, and makes sure it doesn't get infected.

There's hope you know, he still has it. His mother will be looking for him. She'll be worried. He's important to them. Damian may not be the original, but he is still a blood son. He is still her son. She will come find him. This nightmare will end soon. He can go home.

And then weeks pass, and nothing. Then months, and nothing. His family is not coming for him, and it hurts. Hurts more than anything. And yet while that happens, the boy he's attacked, and hurt, teaches himself arabic in order to speak to him. He takes Damian out of the house one afternoon and buys him new clothes, or tries to. And then he keeps buying him new clothes. He gives him blankets and gives up his bed to him until they can get him one himself, and steadily he teaches Damian english.

This boy is kind. Kinder than Damian's ever experienced, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He's devastated by the fact that he is not as important to his family as his family is to him. What do you do when you're six years old and you learn something like that? When a random stranger who looks like your father is kinder to you, and cares more about you than your family did?

And then Damian tells him he's a clone. He's Damian Wayne's clone, and he tells him his purpose - that their grandfather made him to kill him. And the boy, the imposter, Damian thinks he probably already knows that he's a clone. But he doesn't say that. He just nods, and asks him if he wants to tell his original about him.

Damian says no. He doesn't want to. He's tired of living in the shadow of his original. He wants to keep this to himself. This is his. For once, all of this is his.

And to his surprise, the imposter doesn't try and convince him otherwise. He just nods, and says okay. And when Damian asks why, the imposter - his brother - looks at him and says.

"I don't care about Damian Wayne. I care about you." And in Damian's gobsmacked silence, his brother continues. He tells him that if Damian doesn't want to tell his original that he exists, then they don't need to. They don't need to worry about the LoA going after him, because clearly if his 'grandfather' needs to make a clone of Damian in order to take him out, then whatever it was that Damian Wayne was doing to keep himself safe, was working.

"Wayne already has people in his corner, he's got Gotham's army of vigilantes to keep himself safe." his brother says with his eyes as blue as moonlight. "You, however. Do not." And he continues, and says that if Damian Wayne has the same training as Damian does, then he will be fine. He doesn't need to be aware of his clone. Because if DW doesn't know about Damian, then the LoA doesn't either.

And here's the thing. Damian would not have survived in the LoA for long. Not as a clone. No matter what, he was going to die no matter what he did, and sooner rather than later. The sword of Damocles was always hanging above his head in the League of Assassins.

That portal, and meeting Danny, saved his life. There's no way around it. And to an extent Damian knows this even at six years old. He may not be aware that he would've died, but he knows that meeting Danny was the best thing to happen to him.

It's no wonder after that, that Damian is as clingy to Danny as he is. Danny is the first person he's met to offer him unconditional love, with no strings attached, only pure affection.

[the-ace-of-fools]

[demaparbat-hp]

I didn't know Katara also had silver marks on the Kintsugi AU. How did you come up with that idea? Is it an in-universe cultural thing? If it is, is it exactly the same as Zuko's or does the Water Tribe have their own beliefs around it?

Sorry if I'm asking too many questions, I just really love how your mind works when it comes to these AUs 💖

Hello, and thanks for asking!

Initially, Kintsugi was a strictly Fire Nation tradition. Something to hold over the rest of the nations, and deepen their own belief of cultural superiority. Zuko hiding his scars played into that idea, since having gold inlaid in your body is a clear sign of Fire Nation blood—furthermore, High Fire Nation blood.

That being said, one lovely anon gave the suggestion that perhaps the other nations also have their own kinds of Kintsugi, and I fell in love with the idea. @ican-fixitbooks went even deeper into the particular philosophies of each nation regarding Kintsugi. I'll be using some quotes from them—watch for the italics.

It was during said brainstorming session that I thought of Katara having a silver Kintsugi scar, and how could it be used to enhance the themes of ATLA, Katara's arc, and this AU as a whole.

But a little background is necessary, I believe.

Kintsugi is a tradition practiced worldwide, with minor differences in philosophy/technique according to each nation.

The Earth Kingdom seal their scars with a substance that resembles bronze, as the mentality of breaking yourself down to build yourself back up better than you were is very central to their culture. It is used as a way to celebrate one's victories, made all the better if damage was taken to achieve it.

The elite have rather different views on this practice. They believe themselves to be above such things. That which is broken must be hidden away, which has interesting connotations when thinking about a certain blind earthbender.

The Air Nomad philosophy leans towards a naturalist approach. Anything natural doesn't need to be "improved" in their eyes. If a scar is there, it is there. Let it be there as a part of you, no different than any other, no need to be "made better", but in fact better to just "be".

Kintsugi is a cultural practice meant to celebrate making something beautiful out of something broken, arguably even making it better than it was. During Sozin's reign and forward, Kintsugi became a way to show the Fire Nation's superiority. Especially as that is essentially their philosophy for war: "Breaking the rest of the world so it can be reforged in fire, made a better, more perfect place."

As for the Water Tribes, there's the healing factor to take into account. The Northern Water Tribe isolated itself from the rest of the world once the war began, so they hold tight to their traditions and beliefs. If something is not broken, then why attempt to fix it? Kintsugi is scoffed at in the North—it is a foreign practice, one that is not necessary when all your wounds can be healed with bending.

However, the Southern Water Tribe has been exposed to the world. They have seen war. They have lived through it. They have suffered, but they are also free because of it, if only in spirit. The South is strong and proud and bold, so it comes as no surprise that silver Kintsugi becomes the mark of their warriors, their hunters, their people.

Katara was wounded during the last Southern Raid. After losing Kya in such a terrible way, Hakoda made sure to seal Katara's wound with the silver of their warriors, so that she would always remember that despite having been broken, she is still strong, beautiful, and proud.

The scar itself is long and thin, going from her right shoulder up to her jaw. It loosely resembles lightning.

And despite how she got it, despite all the things she lost on that day, despite it being a constant reminder of her mother's death—Katara loves her scar.

It grounds her. It pushes her forward. You are a warrior, it tells her. You are a survivor.

When Katara arrives at the North, her scar becomes yet another thing the Northerners hold against her. They use it to demean her, just as they do her gender and out-spoken personality.

The North believes a lot of things that Katara always considered natural to be a problem. What does it matter that she is a woman? What is wrong about being passionate? Why should having a scar mean she's broken?

This scar is something they cannot touch. The Northerners try to use it to demean her. To make her small. Self-conscious. Worthless.

They're scoffing at her mother's death.

Her strength.

Her beauty.

Her pride.

Her story.

And she will not allow it.

[lavenoon]

Friends are wonderful, all the more so after you've been starved of genuine connection for so long

Happy Birthday @kibbits! I wanted to take the Break a Leg cast for a spin - specifically a soft little moment, after they've established their friendship, but with still enough moments of "Oh right, this is real, they do trust us, they want to be close to us". I have emotions about these guys and I always will <3

[unlimitedbutchworks]

i know it’s bitchy and kinda unfair but id be lying if i said it didnt irritate the hell out of me as a trans woman seeing tme lesbians treat the idea of lesbians being with trans men and still identifying as lesbians as some kind of forbidden lost knowledge of magical hybridities and perspectives, rather than the common standard female4female bioessentialist and transphobic set of norms they often are. like ive never seen lesbians get shit for this irl, meanwhile trans women and lesbians who stand with us are routinely excised and alienated from spaces for ‘enabling poor behavior’, ‘taking too much space’ and ‘dangerous proximity to maleness’, but now i gotta listen to you go on about how you’re reclaiming maleness femalely safely? something’s not adding up…

[siryyeet]

Oh you have complicated feelings towards Germany? Let me make 91836373 assumptions about it with my piss poor understanding of history, not listen to germans at all and then come to a horrendously bad and false conclusion on why that is! Also I think you germans should stop feeling guilty and be proud of your country again!

[ropebunnykant]

i fear the ending of agatha all along is once again making people confuse “i didn’t like the ending/the ending made me sad” with “that was bad writing”

[combefier]

the thing that really gets me about how bad the writing for rook in particular is is that it would take so little effort to make it better. and it would probably make the writers' jobs a lot more interesting, too. you should be able to piss off your companions. in every other dragon age, you can piss off your companions. you can piss them off so badly that they try to kill you. if you just sort of fail to impress people one way or another in da2, you can end up having to fight your best friends to the death, or have one of them peace out after prompting an invasion of your city. the ability to have conflict with your companions wasn't always handled WELL (trying to talk to cullen about mage rights in dai comes to mind, as does trying to talk to dorian about slavery beyond the one conversation), but the option was there. it seems like the only way you can piss off your companions here is by making tactical disagreements they don't like. there's no room to have a personality some of your companions find off-putting, even though there are multiple points where your companions are put off by one another. purple hawke we're so not back. and the reason can't be "well you had to be someone varric would choose," because varric's best friend was hawke and there can be very many different kinds of hawke.

you're given a fascinating backstory and it will not come up beyond occasional comments relevant to your faction. mourn watch rook why does your backstory almost never come up i would tell people that story all the time. it's like dming for a player who came up with the most rich backstory you've ever seen and then watching them ignore it every time you dangle plot hooks in front of them. bioware do you remember what you wrote. bioware u good???? the sanitization of various factions aside because that's its whole own post, it would be so easy to give a dialogue here and there where rook could show more of what sort of rook they are by letting them reflect on their backstory. it would be so easy to write aggressive answers that are actually aggressive.

i've spent enough time in editing that i've just been trying to figure out if there's any possible motivation beyond a lack of investment in their own story, or a shocking paucity of good editors in their work environment. is it because the way they designed the game necessitates that everyone be there at the end? but you can still fuck up the ending by making the wrong choices there, à la me2, and you were allowed to piss people off in me2. if you can get people killed at the end anyway, why not let the choices you made and the responses you chose matter beyond "did you do enough sidequests?"

at a certain point, it's just confusing. they know how to do this, even if they don't always do it well. the lack of any real room for agency or personality or conflict is just... odd. this is also leaving aside how easy it would have been to incorporate SOME past choices from past games per their previous work. bioware i just want to talk