#i actually dont really see them as father-daughter but i do see the vision. i really do

[arolegos]

big fan of this duo. lets kill them for sport

[clownery-and-fuckery]

As promised, my commentary on Hunter.... to the people that like him, im sorry.

Spoiler warnings and the like, this is pretty negative aside from like maybe three sentences?? Feel free to leave you're own opinions on this too ofc !!! >:)

I dont like Hunter.

Actually, that's not entirely true, I liked him in TCW season 7, when he was that silly man who fucked droids around the place, took no shit, and loved his brothers. I like the Hunter who, not putting this nicely, had a personality.

This is not a dig on him as a character, it's a dig on how he was handled, writing wise

Listen, I totally get that the "rugged-man-adopts-a-star-child" trope is popular, and I do LOVE that trope, really I do- I just don't really think it was done that well here? It's bothered me since s1 of the Bad Batch, and I don't think it's going to get any better this season....

My only real problem with the writing inconsistency of Hunter being an older brother of three to "Omega this, Omega that" and while I agree childcare is SUPER difficult at the best of times, Hunter had four brothers who were equally capable of taking care of Omega, too. It just never sat right with me that taking care of her became his ENTIRE personality

Hes a soldier, who despite being completely out of his element, had a routine he strictly followed for the whole war. Yet he seemed to completely forget about that ?? Stressed or not stressed, that worn in routines and LIFELONG LESSONS should not have left his head as quickly as they seemed to.

The most obvious and frustrating example of the oversimplification of Hunter's character is with Crosshair. I cannot even BEGIN to describe my anger when it comes to Hunter and Crosshair. It mainly stems from the way he just FORGETS his brother is with the Empire. Conveniently never bringing it up unless someone else did it first.

As the oldest sibling and squad leader, I personally think Hunter should have been the one to bring him up. It should not have had to be specifically mentioned by another character for Hunter to discuss it. He loves his brothers, he loved Crosshair, broody or not, he should have brought it up AT LEAST once, imo.

We also see this complete disregard for Crosshair AGAIN in s3, now that we have seen Hunter looking for Omega and not ONCE mentioning Crosshair. Has he forgotten that they were originally going to find Crosshair??? That they never actually FOUND their brother ??????? Annoyed me so much, tbh.

What else annoyed me was the singular language he used during the whole episode. "She's part of our squad." "Hemlock took SOMEONE from us." He's completely and utterly disregarding the OTHER TWO SIBLINGS that the Empire took away from him !!!!! It genuinely frustrates me so much.

I know I'm DEFINITELY nit-picking here, but even when Hunter looked to Tech's goggles, it was in a "He should've been here to do this." Way, not a "He should be here." Way. That's his brother, who died looking for another that Hunter has forgotten.

Hunter's tunnel vision is probably one my least favourite things about the Bad Batch, if I dare even MENTION that- and I love this show. It means so much to me, but I just can't handle this particular part of it...

I have so SO much anger directed towards the treatment of Hunter by the writers. I want the Hunter who was devoted to his WHOLE family, who fought for ALL of them, who would have NEVER allowed Crosshair to leave in the first place. Give me that Hunter back.

(Saying this- I do not mind Hunter and Omega's father/daughter and brother/sister relationship !!! I do really enjoy it- in small amounts. The fact that Hunter became nearly an extention of Omega really just- threw me off his whole character, really)

I specifically pick to ignore this when I'm making anything. Hunter has been a sergeant of three idiots(named endearingly) for the entirety of the war. One child who wanders around should not have taken up 100% of Hunter's attention, ESPECIALLY when he was surrounded and supported. It just bothers me, idk

Anyway, thats my rant !!! Back to some positives soon, promise !! I just had to get this off my chest, it's been BOTHERING me.

[stellarcobweb]

have i ever mentioned tht whenever i think of the web i just go "thats just my mom?"

(putting a break in here bc after typing everything out, its more of a ramble than i thought it would be)

like. specifically in my own weird as hell way. as well as like *insert my conpantheon and soft polytheism, certain aspects and presentations can be forms that make it easier to talk to and influence humanity*

for whatever reason i look at like. moon/primordial void/mother as being very very VERY Web . using Smirkes detailing of the Fears (which . i think its a lot more nebulous than that but whatever)

also its DEEPLY funny to me that like. my system name for the longest time and even now tbh was Maratus, with collective name Mara for short. Maratus is the peacock spider genus

as well as my Thing abt weaving fate together, getting into tatting lace and crochet, wanting to get even more into like. honest to god spinning and weaving and knot magic and stitch magic in my practice

AND ALSO. final nail in THAT coffin. someone did an energy reading on me once and straight up got fullblown spider demon vibes off of me? w the concept of "you can literally spin ur own web" as something they noticed. which is just. FASCINATING.

+ my energy being called sticky and/or web-like on multiple occasions

like. thinking of terms that i would consider myself w the Fears that ARENT the spiral (bc i am first and foremost an Avatar of the Spiral).

Child of the Web feels a lot better than any of the others? bc im not a Victim, Avatar, or even really necessarily Marked imo. its just like. thats who created me? thats who made me and who built me out of nothing? thats who legit created my soul? if nobody has my back, i know my Mama has my back! its a more personal relationship than anything else honestly. just like. wholeass that is my Mother and i am absolutely my Mother's Child. you *could* consider me marked from birth but idk that doesnt feel OR sound right

(also im a pretty doll :) i mean Doll and dollself are legit. identity at this point. both for coping reasons and xenic reasons. in both marionette AND bjd ways. im not human! and have never ever felt human!)

+ Marked by the Lonely . bc yeah former Victim WOOOOO my childhood was AWFUL!

ik theres an Eye association w me but i have no idea what it is. shrug. research is my hobby and i legit live for doing it. also it def feels nice to chew on info when im researching, very satisfying. no i dont think im an Avatar, and im definitely not a Victim. the Eye just straight up doesnt scare me. tbh i think theres *potential* for Avatarhood fr me at some point but if it happens it happens idrc either way. i just exist!

...honestly Victim of the Corruption would also apply to me but i take a very "if i dont see it it doesnt exist" approach to that and its not anything active in my life . fr the most part. so shrug

YKNOW. the Dark would be called my parent too. i dont think of that part of things as often as i do my Mom but like. Child of the Dark also fits here. i mean . "Born from dark water, daughter of the rain and snow" is something that i take fully as identity. (yes thats a line from Landscape by Florence and the Machine). also it connects to my former beliefs abt Leviathan = soul parent and what is he but associated with the abyss, water, and darkness

ngl its also funny looking at that from the concept of like. my eyes practically cannot handle any direct sunlight. it hurts them so bad ;;v;; like my eyes are ridiculously sensitive to light and i have insanely good night vision somehow. i know literally nobody else like that. also the concept of the Void is deeply comforting actually. vantablack :)

also unrelated slightly but A Fathers Love is my favorite episode out of literally all of the ones ive heard on TMA. like its just the best one ever

[liquidstar]

What is your opinion of Echidna? Do you like her or do you hate her? I see some people really don't recognize her as a morally gray character at all and believe she is probably the real final villain who can completely destroy the world and bring disaster to those around her for her so-called "save the world" idea.

HI im answering this super late sorry but my thoughts on echdina: i like her. shes a super interesting character. shes also a bad person LOL

but i dont think shes evil... i really dont think shes evil. like you said shes morally gray, because her morality ultimately just revolves around whatever can satisfy her curiosity. she doesnt have any malice, unless it relates to emilia or satella, in which case she ACTUALLY gets emotional for a change (which is so intriguing!!!). she doesnt even really understand the concept of love (but why must it fade?) and even that she has to relate back to her own curiosity.

and while shes not evil, she is an antagonist to some extent. and she also helps to some extent. its complicated with her, because everything is. shes done horrible things, and by her own admission she does regret them, but like subaru said she is a witch beyond comprehension.

all of the witches have single minded ambitions like that, their ways of interacting with the world are very unhuman (in a bit of a similar way to the ai from vivy?). but none of their goals are evil. in fact you can consider a lot of them to be GOOD things! typhon wants justice, minerva wants peace, camilla wants love, etc.

but those become obsessions to them. its like extreme tunnel vision, and they throw away their humanity in order to peruse these things to their extremes.

echidna wants knowledge, which to me is the most compelling goal for a character to go off the rails for (see father in fmab). because i get it! i wanna know shit too. in echdina's case her curiosity is so all-consuming that she cant help but give into it. and shes happy to do so.

shes unquestionably a bad person for the shit she does, but shes not evil. i dont see what good ending the world would do for her, at least not until she's learned literally everything about it. but she will abandon her daughter and be pleased when the outcome leaves her isolated in a library for 400 years....

shes a super interesting character because shes so fucked up in the head though. like thats what makes her awesome to watch.

[faelapis]

jokes and memes aside, i used to be in the fnaf fandom. i actually do think that as weird and campy as that whole lore is, there is a way to convert it into a half-decent movie.

unfortunately, that's not what we got.

the movie that we got is just… doing wayyyy too much. the reveal with the missing kids isnt that interesting, because we havent spent enough time with the animatronics. we're not scared of them, so its not a shock to find out theyre actually kids. i think you need like a full movie of them being scary monsters to make the kids reveal effective. this movie is just trying so, so hard to do the Whole fnaf lore in one movie that we dont get any time for emotional investment. or fun. or scares. or anything exciting.

if you really wanted to get people invested in "the fnaf universe" from this movie, i think you should do one of two things. either:

A) keep it simple, stupid. we stay contained to the stuff thats in the first game. so no springtrap or purple guy. its just these creepy animatronics as the villains. the protagonist is just a security guard trying to survive. we feel trapped in the pizzeria building, so they're like a real threat. we stay mostly in that location. we dont learn that theyre tragic kids until a potential sequel. its a straightforward creepy horror movie with fun 80s aesthetics - an overall campy romp with some hidden depth if you know what to look for. "classic" fnaf.

OR

B) you go all-in on the lore and drama. we take it out of the era of the first game and set it in the original missing kids story. perhaps from the POV of one of william afton (purple guy)'s kids, like vanessa is in this movie. only this time, thats the MAIN focus.

the protagonist loves their dad but is also torn. maybe feels complicit and wants to do something about this. lots of scenes between william and his kids, lots of tragic love and manipulation. give william SOME depth. you don't have to make him sympathetic, but he needs some kind of motivation to be a compelling villain. you can make it deranged! maybe hes crazy but has some kind of grand vision or religious beliefs fueled by seeing himself as a supergenius. maybe he thinks he loves his kids and that this whole restaurant business is for "their sake", but really, he's fueled by ego. set up this kind of tragic story where michael / whichever kid is the protagonist decides they have to kill their own father.

and then of course, as the stinger, when you think william's dead - he actually survives as springtrap. that's our sequel bait. then the NEXT movie can be set in the modern era.

the real movie is just... so contrived. mike schmidt has fuckall to do with the afton family here. he's not michael afton, he's just a random joe. he has nothing to do with the missing kids, he just "sees them in his dreams" for no reason.

again, that would be fine if it was just a gay horror romp. but trying to involve william afton and The Lore (tm) just falls completely flat. there is no investment built up, because all our time is spent with boring mike and his boring little sister. there is no triumph when the kids turn on william and defeat him together, because we barely know what happened. this weird addition that mike lost his brother at camp is just dumb. he's not even one of the animatronics!

i feel like maybe there was an earlier draft where mike WAS supposed to be revealed to be michael afton? he has these flashbacks with this perfectly idyllic family - this handsome, smiling dad with no lines who's just There. mike is implied to have this troubled history, i mean there's a reason he's raising his sister and not his parents.

yet when it comes to the big climax... william afton is just some random creep he doesn't know. just a weirdo yelling in a bunny suit, berating vanessa (his daughter) but completely unbothered by mike.

so like??? idk, it's a mess. i feel like this movie was written by fans with an extensive knowledge of The Lore, but with zero knowledge of like. basic setup and payoff when it comes to movies. or how to do emotional investment. or how to have fun with the wacky premise.

i hope the fnaf movie becomes the new standard-bearer of bad fanfic movies to replace 50 shades. nobody can act for shit. all the nonsensical cameos with no meaning to 99% of the audience. they made springtrap say his "i always come back" catchphrase in his FIRST appearance. incredible. iconic. the room-tier.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

i think 13 and yazs dad would get on like a house on fire. she actually loves his pakora and hes like FINALLY someone who understands my VISION. he periodically sends yaz pictures and videos he took of the newspaper or the news on tv with the request to show it to the doctor and dutifully but skeptically yaz always does and the doctor always wants to check it out because even if it isnt really something hakim always sends stuff that seems specifically chosen to pique her interest, which it isnt, they just have similar opinions on what counts as interesting. and like 60% of the time it actually IS something. and the other 40 they have a nice day out seeing sheffield under the guise of “investigating” and report back to hakim at the end of the day what theyve found. it’s like a little holiday. if yesterday they saved three civilisations and also got a cat out of a tree then today they’ll check out one of hakims hunches.

sonya i think would take a while for 13 to warm up to. sonya clocks whats going on within two minutes of seeing them together and takes it as her duty as a sister to tease yaz and her weird girlfriend until the end of time. she treats the doctor with that same abrasiveness that covers affection that she does yaz and it takes the doctor a while to figure out what to do with that. but as they spend more time together she starts to see through the teenage posturing how much sonya cares about yaz and how much yaz cares about sonya and she recognises herself in sonya as much as she does in yaz. recognises the insecurity and fragility behind the big mouth. approaches sonya when she sits in a corner on her phone at family gatherings and starts telling her stories of everything she got up to at school (hotwiring warp drives) and slowly but surely she gets sonyas guard down and there grows some genuine affection between them. a relationship thats more than the initial I See You Care About Yaz As Much As I Care About Yaz And I Respect You For That But I Dont Really Get You

they all get together on birthdays and holidays and yaz brings the doctor and sonya brings ryan and ryan brings graham and yaz is like damn. damn it. this is what i was trying to avoid. this is what i didnt want to happen. wasnt sure what i DID want to happen but it sure as shit wasnt this situation that is unfolding right now in front of me. as the doctor is offering pakoras her dad made to two people whove been sort of father figures to her, one who was also kind of an inferior to her in a flat team structure dont question the math there and also her best friend for three years in what were at times definitely traumatising circumstances that she hasnt dared to look too closely at yet, and another who was basically an honorary grandad to her and actual grandad to ryan who sits across from her holding hands under the table with sonya and they both definitely definitely are very sure in what they think is happening between her and the doctor and have no reservations smugly hinting at it in front of her parents and okay fine maybe they are a little bit right and okay yes probably her parents do also know but that doesnt mean we need to acknowledge anything or talk about it thanksss :):):):):)

but she gets over it. and the doctor, who was very much resigned to never seeing graham or ryan or dan ever again, is overjoyed and after every party yaz has to convince her of the joys of delayed gratification and also the fact that if she skips right to next year right now she’ll have to wait two years for the next time.

najia takes a bit to come around. she has missed years of her daughter’s life and it’s hard not to blame the doctor for that. it’s hard to trust her or be okay with all this when she was deliberately kept out of the loop since the moment yaz met her. the doctor feels like this threatening force, fell into her life calling her on her husband’s phone mysteriously knowing her whereabouts and asking about her daughter. knows her name but never introduces herself. only has “it’s a long story” to offer in response to “who are you and how do you know my daughter”. and while not being forthcoming with whats going on in her life or head is hardly new or surprising behaviour coming from yaz, it’s still concerning in combination with this stranger who yaz seems very familiar with and the sentence “i owe the doctor my life”. it’s suspicious. it’s weird. and it doesnt help that after that chaotic first impression, her second impression of the doctor will be yaz telling her “i ran away with her travelling through time and space and i lied to you about it for years” and conspicuously not telling her “your impression of whats going on between us was right that first time when you’d only seen us together for like half an hour”

but because yaz is clearly happier than shes been in years and also because all these other people seem to trust the doctor too - especially the adults, she probably discreetly questions dan and graham about her some time - she does come around eventually. because especially with 13 i think it’s hard not to love her once you get past the initial suspicion about the Weirdness. especially because with yazs family she’d dial the Im Nice Im Friendly Im Not A Threat Ive Never Murdered Anyone In My Entire Life Please Love Me mask up to 11. and najia is a mother and shes a mother to yaz and if yaz is even slightly her mother’s daughter and the doctor is a lot like yaz, najia will be kind to her i think. she’ll become a little bit of a third daughter. once najia’s been convinced of the Im Not A Threat thing. and the doctor and yaz get the same thousand yard stare sometimes. which she gets angry about too. and yaz and her fight about too, a couple times. but in the end the doctor seems like a net positive on yazs life, and even if she isnt, it’s unlikely shes gonna leave anytime soon so better make peace sooner rather than later. though i do think the doctor will charm her. and she’ll have a relationship with najia like she will with hakim and sonya.

the doctor always sits in the same spot on the sofa whenever they come over and eventually yaz is like “you know we can just buy a sofa? for at home? could even be a purple one” and the doctor Lights Up like she hadnt thought of that and they get a purple sofa and they sit on it every night because nobody dies. happily ever after. the end

[vinetae]

Okay, so not long ago I've been having weird dreams and visions come true. Mainly about our seven boys. (But I also saw TXT's gfs OR they could've been a new group HYBE is gunna release), So I thought long and hard on if I should share this with everyone and I decided to, but I will leave out some details for 'personal' reasons and safety measures (just incase these do come true.) I also record my dreams and visions cause I have bad memory lol. Anything marked with an * is my own opinion and prediction. This is NOT a tarot reading, just sharing of dream interpretations.

In one of my dreams about a year ago, I saw all of the BTS members' spouses and children. So, let's go down the line, she'll we?

They had been going to jin's room/ apartment to surprise him with a birthday cake and all of the spouses and children tagged along too.

The year seemed to be between 2028-2030.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Namjoon:

Children: pretty sure i saw a little girl. Blondish brown hair? Very small. Looked to be about 3-4 years of age.

Spouse: blonde, straight hair, blueish green eyes, *I've always gotten "lilly" vibes from him*, she looked like how you would think his spouse would be. Around 5'6? A little taller? I didn't get a good glimpse. She looked to be around 25-30?

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Seokjin: sadly, I saw no children/spouse. (Except-)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Yoongi: I saw him with one boy and one girl. 4 and 6 maybe? The boy had black hair, and the daughter had blondish brown hair.

Spouse: blonde. Very vivid. A little past the shoulders? Pale skin and greenish eyes? I never really get a good look because its blurry, and all I see is colors. 23-25.

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Hoseok: nope. No kids either.

Spouse: I saw a blonde (dont ask what's up with all the blondes idk lmao), she for sure had green eyes and looked around 5'5? She looked very intense, but sweet at the same time. pretty sure she had on a navy blue top with black leather pants? She liked to wear white a lot lol. DON'T @ ME she looked to be 19-21.

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Jimin: in an earlier dream, I had seen him with his father going on a camping trip together, and jimin had brought his son (pretty sure he had a son out of wedlock), and jimin's dad had just said "oh wow jimin look at you with him. I guess you got all that practice with helping take care of your brother". His father actually said the child's name, but I had woken up. All I got was 'ji-' *I'm getting a feeling of ji-woo*.

(And in a different dream, he had told me his ex cheated on him back in 2018 in the LY era, and I saw how she looked. She was a model of some sort, but I will not reveal facial features because if she IS real, I don't need ya'll tormenting her with something that might not have even happened, k?)

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Taehyung: I'm pretty sure he adopted two little twin girls, they're adorable lmao.

Spouse: i- don't actually remember. Maybe she just wasn't in any of them.

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Jungkook: I didn't see any kids.

Spouse: jet black hair, ear length? I'll try to put pics up to show what they most looked like. Cherry red plumpish lips (but thin ya know?). I think I saw her driving a motorcycle. Lmao ok- sshe looked to be around 23-25.

* Current Relationship/Energies? *

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Namjoon

CR: MAYBE I never really saw anyone but I'm thinking so-

energy: Vibin.

Seokjin

energy: Just chilling. wanting to make ARMYs proud so they're working really hard.

CR: Maybe? I saw a short red-brownish hair girl-

Yoongi

Energy: Vibin along side with namjoon. two bros bro-in' it out😎

CR: no. I didn't see anything but there's always a possiblity.

Hoseok

energy: OKAY Y'ALL HOBI AIN'T AS HAPPY ALL THE TIME AS WE THINK. he's pretty chill, and is just focusing on his work rn.

CR: no? this one is hard-

Jimin

energy: this man- he needs help istg. everytime I try to get a sense of what he's feeling it's like it just blocks me off. I did sit quietly for a while tho, and asked what he was going through. I saw a bed with red lights (apparently laying down facing the celing) a bottle of some sort (either soju or wine) and a skull. yeah. uhhh ANYWAYS-

CR: nope. (recently broken up maybe? that's the vibe i get)

Taehyung

energy: Tae is doing..okay? hes defiantly reverted back to being an introvert (he posted that his MBTI changed from ENFP-T to INFP)

CR: lol no I didn't see anything.

Jungkook

jungkook is going through his rebellious stage (we all kinda figured cause of his tattoos and pericings) but other than that he seems happy ig?

CR: a lot of them are focusing on themselves but no to this lil bunnie.

Ight have fun with this information, kids.Dm if you want a pt.2

Peace 😎✌

[probably-haven]

Hello!

So I’m the anon who asked for more Archon War Venti headcanons and I just loved it! I really like reading your headcanons cuz some of them are similar to mine but mostly are headcanons that I didn’t think of so it really is nice to read and see your thoughts about Venti!

I feel like as if I’m asking too much but could you keep doing these types of headcanons? Like it doesn’t have to be Archon War headcanons but like some headcanons about Venti’s relationship with the Ragnvindrs and Gunnhildrs. Because the first Gunnhildr was the first one who prayed to Barbatos and the first Ragnvindr was his friend who left but came back and I really wanna hear your thoughts on that!

And I’ve decided to get off anon cuz you just replied to my texts and I wasn’t expecting that so I’ve got a short confidence boost that I am completely taking advantage of! And thanks for the advice! or uhh comment? observation? I’m not entirely sure but thank you for that! I’ve heard that be said to me a few times and I have been trying to be more, uhh, assertive so thanks for that!

rfouierjkhfkecs i actually came across information on Gunnhildr and the "Red-haired warrior" yesterday when i was doing more research into the rebellion against Decarabian and I was like "wow this would be really fucking fun to research and theorize on, but its too specific/niche to include unprompted no matter how much i want to" but bestie you prompted, and im literally so happy right now because I didn't think I'd ever really get the chance to post about them!

also lmao yeah, i tend to try and reply to as much as I can, since it's a good feeling when someone does and all. but yeah, no problem! I’m glad you felt confident enough to reveal XD. 

This may be structured a bit more like analysis/theory/just citing canon things at first before it gets into a more headcanony format.

ehe i have so much free reign on this it's lovely

More Archon War Era Venti: one two three

spoilers for Venti's backstory and Diluc's(kinda, i think, just in case)

first things first, laying down some canon background because before yesterday i hadn't heard of either of them outside of that one cutscene.

the very reason Decarabian had his storm wall up in the first place was because at the time Andrius had declared war on him- and his tower, and the city of Mondstadt by extent, were basically constantly under attack by Andrius's blizzards, which since he was still alive back then, were a lot bigger and covered basically what seems to be the whole of Mondstadt outside the barrier.

This meant that people had two options. Live in the city under Decarabian's oppression, or live outside the barrier, and brave the blizzards of a warring god... which was not a good idea

but the Gunnhildr clan(not yet called that) tried- and they almost died because of it. In the midst of a blizzard, the clan chief's daughter, named Gunnhildr(which the clan would be named after later) sent out a prayer that was heard by a wandering wind spirit. And the faith of that prayer gave the spirit enough power to create a small shelter to protect them.

When her father past, she became the new leader and also a priestess. She would later lead the clan to fight Decarabian alongside four others. And basically the Gunnhildr Clan ended up as like sworn protectors of Mondstadt

-

as for the red-haired warrior, who is basically assumed to be the earliest known ancestor of the Ragnvindir clan(im gonna refer to as Ragnvindir for convenience sake, even though "Ragnvindir" is technically a different character from Vanessa's era)theres not much information on him, but heres what i have from the various wiki's

- he was a wanderer

- one of the first to use the sign of windblume to find other rebels(so he's intelligent)

- actively propped up the nameless bard so he could watch as the tower was destroyed

there's this little tidbit too from the Windblume Ode bow's description that im probably gonna talk about a considerable amount too: "Atop the ruins of the ancient tower, amidst the cheers, songs, and tears of those who had newly won their freedom. A red-haired warrior turned his back on the newborn god, hidden like a single raindrop in a tidal wave of humanity. He was first among those who passed the secret sign of Windblume, the one who wove threads of dawn throughout the long night. His name has since been lost to time, but his deeds are still remembered in song." followed later by "The fate of this clan will likely never change: they shall ever live in the darkness and bring forth the flame of dawn."

-

Now I'm going to start with the Ragnvindir(geez, why's it spelled like that tho)

My idea of his character is basically formed by a mix of Ragnvindir stereotypes and just generally analyzing text.

So what do we know about Ragnvindir's for sure? they are shady motherfuckers- or at least they rarely operate in the spotlight. also damn, these guys are more cursed than anemo vision wielders- like the only one who didn't canonically lose someone close to them was Crepus, but considering that Diluc doesn't exactly have a mom..... he probably did

so what do we know? - he was close with the nameless bard - he was intelligent - he likely operated primarily from the shadows "ever living in the darkness" - he was a wanderer - he abandoned Venti during the celebration - but his deeds were still remembered in song, so Venti and him were likely still close

now the question of the century: how will i choose to interpret "turned his back on the newborn god"? And honestly, I'm- not sure- at first i assumed he abandoned him completely- but Venti did still make sure to carry on his memory- which could just be Venti being Venti, but for the sake of sanity, this is how I'm interpreting it.

A lot of things happened to the Ragnvindir that day. He lost a friend, saw another become a god to replace the one they had conquered, and he saw his goal, his reason for being in Mondstadt, come to fruition. "see the world through my eyes" the bard had said, and the Ragnvindir had been a wanderer even before. Sure, the people had won freedom, and that was to be celebrated, but he's intelligent to recognize that people would likely see him as one of the key figures in leading the rebellion. And for him this was a solemn time, and ending to a chapter, and not being one to operate in the spotlight, the last thing he'd want is to be swept up in festivities and attention at a time like this.

It also likely didn't help that he's probably smart enough to understand the idea of "power corrupts," and seeing the wind sprite just readily accept the mantle of Archon was likely not the most comforting thing to happen in the given situation after all. But Decarabian was gone, and Andrius had ceased his blizzards, so without a word, he slipped into the crowd and left, a wanderer once more.

-

now back to Gunnhildr

she was the first to receive an anemo vision from Barbatos, no I do not take criticism on this "the power bestowed on her by Barbatos" like please, they basically said it.

It also mentions that she crowned Venti with laurels(symbol of vistory) after the battle- the book Biography of Gunnhildr additionally says "the Gunnhildr Clan will continue honoring the legacy of its ancestors and its duty to the Anemo Archon: to protect Mondstadt, the land and all who inhabit it, forever."

I really like this because it conveniently ties into my past headcanon about Venti granting visions to the people of Mondstadt and having them be the ones to erect wind barriers and defend the city in his absence.

So in the Archon War I like to imagine that the Gunnhildr clan had a lot of people who were actually granted visions and were basically in charge of protecting it from those who would attempt to ambush them.

Mondstadt essentially became known for this- the fact that the mortals within it were strong enough to fend off the force of a god without support from their own.

but regardless, Gunnhildr, as she had before, served as a priestess to Barbatos, the closest thing that Mondstadt had to a ruler, and yet she only took charge of prayer and protection.... i hate to just- equate them to their descendants- but to an extent- her role was kind of like a merge between Jean and Barbara- Except with a whole lot less structure.... i really dont want their characters to just be carbon copies of the descendants but- c'mon, the comparison was right there.

anyways besties- back to Venti so i can tie them in

The Archon War was one of the worst times for Venti in his entire life thus far. And the time immediately after Decarbian's fall, while Gunnhildr and the Ragnvindir were still alive, was the key period of time in which things could have gone very differently.

Venti is the god of freedom. That's a reoccurring theme and I think I've made that abundantly clear. But during this time, Venti was anything but free.

I've mentioned before how he would stay far from the city of Mondstadt so the shockwave of his death wouldn't reach him, should he fall.... well- Venti is new to a lot of things- godhood- humanity- war- freedom- and at this point he was trying hard to figure out how to be Mondstadt's god without becoming Decarabian, and while still being able to survive, and make sure they survived, and see the world for his friend, and carry on his friends legacy.

And this is a lot of stuff for what was once a carefree elemental being, and there were certain things that had to be done for this to happen. He couldn't just stay in Mondstadt, or he would grow weak and his people would be vulnerable to attack, but he couldn't abandon it, because despite being able to fend for themselves, there's always hat just in case. He couldn't stay in any one place outside of Mondstadt for very long or he'd be found and killed. He knew in order for Mondstadt to survive he would have to take an active role in the war, strengthen himself so he could defend Mondstadt, and thats exactly what he did.

He started by going after the less powerful gods, ones he had a chance at beating with the power he got from the Gunnhildr clan and the rest of Mond, and by wiping them out, he would grow stronger, so he kept it up- working his way up the metaphorical ladder.

but he couldn't let anyone near him either, because he knew just what would happen if he was attacked then. Were it not for Gunnhildr's prayer, the early years of the Archon War would have been without contest the loneliest time of his life, and there would be nothing he could do about it, bound by survival and his attachment to the legacy of his friend, constantly fearing for his life and going against his very nature as the god of freedom. Frankly thrust into that circumstance that early on, and having to face it alone, it's likely that Venti would have caved under the pressure and dropped his attachment to either his survival, or to his friends legacy... or just something entirely worse(isolation messes with brains) so I'm attributing the fact that he didn't do that to Gunnhildr's companionship, speaking to him and guiding him through it as he had guided her through the blizzard some time ago.

I also like to think that she's responsible for founding at least a number of the different celebrations that still happen in Mondstadt even now.

Ugh supportive warrior priestess- we stan

anyway meanwhile! we got the Ragnvindir

He hears about Venti taking part in the Archon war during his wanderings and returns to Mondstadt to check in, wary of what he might find.

Venti, who hadn't seen him since the rebellion, is elated to say the least and they do a bit of catching up because they need it

and then the conversation turns more serious, and the Ragnvindir brings up a third thing that Venti needs to hold onto- his humanity.

See, in the early years, just desperate to get a foothold on the world, Venti's first number of targets were just indiscriminately going after those he knew to be weaker than him, and the Ragnvindir points this out, saying that while it's not necessarily bad, if he keeps doing it, it won't be long until he causes his and, by extent, Mondstadt's legacy to be tainted by a reputation for slaughter, no better than any of the other bloodthirsty gods that frequented the war's fields. "Think of what the bard would do, we were both close enough to do that much"

And Venti becomes yet more caged, but recognizes that he's right, and this is another turning point, that in the coming years would keep Venti from losing himself.

also- Gunnhildr, Venti having told her about the Ragnvindir's concerns that he now shared, probably organized some kind of event (not unlike the right of part, but also, yes unlike it) that was deliberately intended and designs to serve as an excuse that Venti could chose to take to visit Mondstadt, something she know he desperately wanted to do, but wouldn't allow himself for fear of putting them in danger. But if she made it an official celebration, then it would give Venti the opportunity to visit his people again, under the guise of it being a responsibility, not having to deal with the moral implications of doing so at a time when he was already dealing with enough of those already.

Also on his travels, the Ragnvindir probably started and spread a number of rumors that could end up working in Venti's favor, not that anyone ever knew it was him of course.

basically Gunnhildr protected the people of Mondstadt and did all she could to keep everyone in as high spirits as possible, Venti included.

And as for the Ragnvindir, he took a more realistic approach, traveling and getting venti followers in far places, spreading false information about him, and just overall making sure that Venti didn't do things he'd regret.

And when they died, Venti would carry their legacy with him as well, not losing his humanity to the tide of war as he very nearly had(though he still often came close), and trying to spreading high spirits where ever he could without fail.

[inamorato666]

honestly i gotta add on to this a bit more, it's gonna be all over the place but it feels redundant to keep it all in

my mom, honestly, i really need to figure out what is my deal with her. she hasnt been a "villian" in my life like my father but she hasn't been helping much either. she's just kinda been standing to the side and made sure i smiled so it wasn't obvious that we were a broken family.

one thing that i keep on repeatedly remembering is that she seems to be jealous of my body. i have a thin build while she is on the more plumper side. it's just how she's always been and of course is going to be like that after two pregnancies. i dont see why she keeps on saying she wants my body so badly, and she says it while knowing my sister inherited her build. i sometimes wonder if my sister overhears these strange remarks.

i dont see whats the point of her saying all of that either. does she expect me to console her? to reassure her she's still beautiful? i remember when i regarded myself a princess in the kingdom of my house and my parents were the king and queen. does she want me to continue holding on to that childhood way of seeing things and say she's the most beautiful queen ever?

i might be thinking too much into this, but the fact she's wanted what i have is also conflicting considering my transgender identity. im a little convinced that part of the reason she refuses to accept the reality of actually bearing a son is because she wants to project herself on to me so badly. and every time i think back on that, my stomach turns over in disgust.

it's strange though, because every time i think back to thinking i was a princess i just get flashbacks to being a little girl. but i still live in that daydream, except in the form of writing stories for myself in comfort where i pretend to be a prince. somehow the dream of living in royalty has never stopped, it's just the way i do it that has changed.

but perhaps my mom never saw that fact, the fact that while the way i have lived myself out to be a bit different it's still ultimately in the same manner she always knew. but i guess just the fact that she sees the word change and instantly thinks she's lost me. but she really wouldn't feel this way if she didn't let religion cloud her vision so much either.

i think i can pinpoint when she started relying and pushing the idea of modern christian religion. ever since my grandparents died, we've been coming to the local protestant church.

and this is another reason why i dont think i'll ever understand her. she's been so close to my grand father and mother, but i also always heard horror stories of her trauma with them. and yet she called them so much and i had to bare being forced to say hello to them despite being not close at all.

it always confused me even when i was young and the feeling of apathy towards my parents didnt settle in yet. why would you be so close to someone who has hurt you so so so much? i never understood why she would do such a thing.

i think part of the reason would be that religion pushes such an emphasis on family, the ideal family, a god fearing family. a man and woman that bears sons and daughters that learn the bible until they are old enough to marry and begin the cycle again. perhaps the commandment "thou shall respect thy father and mother" has stuck with her and she's been making sure to keep that honor. im not sure, but i dont think i'll ever be prepared in the near future to sit down and talk to her about it.

what i do know is that religion is making her scared, fueling her insecurities. she's somehow terrified when i want to buy some shorts from hot topic with a skull on it. a graphic skull. one i dont take seriously but still intend to wear to look cool. she said she didnt like it because it brought negative energy into the household.

that was one of the many statements of hers that made me realize she wasn't someone to completely trust.

her leeriness towards lifesaving medicine, her suspicion on friends i've known for ages and has helped me through the worst times of my life, the pearl clutching when it came to curse words. somehow she's put rules against all of these and yet.

and yet. she expects me to continue listening to her word after she has seen me completely broken on the floor.

for context, many weeks ago as of writing this i had one of the worst panic attacks to date. i was screaming, crying, could barely breathe. i was on the floor clutching my hair. my father just walked out of the house and left with the car, but she stayed behind.

by this point i resented my parents deeply, but as my girlfriend has told me before, i still somehow expect the comfort a parent should have because it's what i've been told it's what should happen.

she didn't do such a thing. instead she's tried to apologize and beg me for forgiveness. not actually ask if i was okay, not try to get me water, not tell me that i was right (because i broke down in the middle of an argument with my dad), none of that. she just expected forgiveness.

i told her it wouldn't be possible, that she's hurt me too much while clutching on to the wall and trying desperately to stand up.

a few weeks later she's tried to ask me to forgive her. she was smiling and said that by not doing that i was causing myself more harm than good. i smiled back and said that i didnt care because i still could not and will not forgive her. it was the first times i've shown my true colors of apathy towards her in such a cruel manner. and i dont regret it.

i think the reason why i still hurt at the idea of her dying is because in reality what i want is for her to just quietly go on with her life. i want her to just feel what i felt every time i was crying while my dad yelled at me. i could help and console her but i won't because she's not my problem.

i don't think this might be the final actualized reason for my conflicted reasons about my mother, but i think i'm getting close. i dont know who read to this point but thank you for hearing me out. i feel tired. goodbye

today my friend and i were taking dumb buzzfeed quizzes, our favorites are ones that involve food. while we were scrolling and selecting a question came up about the preference of pie. my eyes instantly fell to the pie which had a sweet cream cheese filling and topped with bright red fruit that was glazed in a sugary glassy finish that would've eased any acidity from the fruit. a strawberry pie.

i never knew what the name of this dessert was called. my mother called it cheese pie but i knew that wasn't the real name. i pointed it out to my friend and added that my mom made that pie a lot and it was one of my favorites. i told him it would most likely be the only recipe i would save of hers. i dont know for sure if it'll be the only recipe, but every time i think about my moms baking, i think of this pie.

i felt an odd anticipation of joy when he remarked he would have to try and make it himself once he gets some strawberries. this was before i mentioned my connection to my mom.

we both have strained relationships with our mothers, and mine feels even more conflicting. i think this pie represents a lot of what it feels like. on the surface it looks nice and perfect, but the glaze is only there to hide the sour taste of the fruit. maybe that fruit could be me, a fruit of her labor. or the fruit could've been what could've been the fruit of our labor. im not sure.

what i do know is that sometimes that glaze cant hide the sourness forever. and at the end of the day i dont like strawberries because of how vulnerable their seeds are. the crunch disgusts me. yet ill happily eat all the strawberry pie i could stomach before it becomes sickly sweet.

i dont know why i hope he will make that pie for me. i dont know if im too spoiled for thinking that at all. i know i plan and do so much for him but maybe i've grown too humble.

nonetheless, i think ill cry if he does present to me a slice. at the very least the only sour, bitter taste ill have to deal with is the memories of my mother.

[khaleesiofalicante]

The Shadowhunters Chronicles time travel head cannons because I have ideas but no ideas.

ALSO PLEASE DONT STEAL THESE, BUT I WOULD LOVE ADD ONS

THL Meeting TMI

Charles coming to the future and being really conflicted on whether or not he should check old records to see if he’s council bc on one hand he’s Charles and he has a very big ego but on the other hand he also has a really big inferiority complex.

Matthew realizing that gender roles are very bent now and wearing skirts and make up and nail polish also having several piercings. Because she/they rights.

Also Matthew going to a bookstore in June and seeing the whole pride layout and just how many books there are about being LGBTQ and how explicit they are ans the wide demographics and generas and everything and just being by the way. 

Christopher realizing that there are way more elements in the periodic table now and just about micro organisms and flipping the fuck out. Like DNA was not discovered until 1980 this man would be having a field day.

We know that Alastair would watch so many Disney movies, just every musical he can get his hands on his watching. 

Also Alastair realizing that the Eiffel tower is now like one of the main things associated with Paris and everyone thinking it’s the coolest thing in the world. 

I propose the idea that Anna Lightwood would be actually be bad at hooking up with modern day women, because this one super hot lesbian would like ask for her Snapchat or something and she would have no clue what that is. 

Also Anna realizing that there are more modern day terms for gender and being able to finally identify as gender queer and maybe experimenting with pronouns. 

I don’t know why but I would love to see Cordelia in modern fashion. Or really any of them just, any of these kids going to a mall would be amazing. 

Lucie creating an AO3 account and immediately posting every single chapter of the beautiful Cordelia on there. Also her reading rpf fanfics.  

Will would later join her and make a Twitter account as well.

Kamala watching Bollywood movies. Also I feel like she get a really cool lesbian experience that she never really got and also I think she would love to know that gay marriage legalized and that there are opportunities for her to have children that don’t involve sex with a man. 

I would like to see what Matthews opinion on abortion would be because of his backstory. I feel like there’s no correct answer to this but I would like to see some ideas.

But also I would love to see Matthew meeting like future!Magnus and either thinking that he’s still the coolest person in the world or have his vision of him be crushed. Because Magnus is a father of two teenage sons, he hasn’t been an aloof party animal for a long time, he’s a full on Dad.

I think Matthew would also try to live with Magnus for a while only for it to backfire the second he comes home drunk. 

I feel like Charles and Matthew would both get arrested, Matthew would obviously try to go to a bar or get drunk or something, English law and American law are very different even today so a lot of the things Matthew enjoys doing he would be banned from but he wouldn’t realize that until it’s too late. Charles on the other hand would probably say something intolerant, because he’s Charles and it’s the 21st-century now, and piss off the wrong person and end up getting thrown out of jail cell. The real tragedy would be for the poor inmates and policeman who have to listen to these two fight until Clary can come and pick them up. 

Also Matthew getting help for the bullshit he’s been through and everyone just being openly gay please I need it.



TWP Meets TLH

Max and Rafe going to the past and being absolutely terrified of what’s going on and meeting Magnus from the past and trying not to have a breakdown because they’re dad doesn’t know who they are and they can’t go to him 

Mina going with Max and Rafael to the past and playing at the Hell Rule because you know she would.

Also Will knowing that she is Jem and Tessa’s daughter because she’s so beautiful just like his Tess and he knows that the only other person Tessa would love enough to have a child with would be their Jem. 

Everyone knowing that Charles is gay and in the closet because they can read this bitch very well.

And Max and Ralph trying to like keep the whole “hey there are new rules now and downworlders and Shadowhunters can share powers thing” on the down low and failing during a big fight and it being reviled with like Max using the seriph blade or some thing and then Rafe just straight up using magic and everyone’s like “Wwwhhaaaaaattt”

They were getting like serious trouble for this in Lake Charlotte with interrogate the hell out of them because wtf was that.

Magness from their present coming back to pick up the kids and seeing Will and everyone again. And Will asking how Magnus is only to realize this man has a family!!

Or even better Alec Lightwood Bane coming back to the past, through a portal, to come get his kids real quick and him seeing Past!Magnus and then flirting with him and Magnus being interested while the kids are like,”Really, this again”.

Kit going into the past and them being confusion because there are two Christophers, also how are you a Herondale?! 

Ty stealing cats. 

I would love to see how Rafe, Tavvy, Max, and Mina react to Church being alive.

Tavvy, who I have somehow not yet mentioned, getting like separation anxiety from his siblings and Ralph just hanging out with him a lot more and cheering him up and just being a good Parabatai .

Also Tavvy spoiling the entire Blackthorne line whoops. 

Also I feel like Max, Rafael, and Tavvy would very much not going to drive to the toxic masculinity of the time, and be super affectionate and nice to each other and respectful of women and it would be quite shocking for people.

Rafe would go to a ball or party and totally teach people either the Cupid shuffle or a bunch of other modern dances.

I feel like someone would make a comment about Max being half demon and a warlock, especially after they realize he can have runes. Not sure what the comment would be, but it might involve Benedick having a thing for demons and it would make everyone super uncomfortable. 

Also just the Lightwood-Banes, and Tavvy, seeing Magnus with another person and being so upset over this.  Bc their dads in love with someone else and that shit hurts.

Arguments over who’s related who and which line everyone comes from because I don’t think the modern gang would know exactly who they’re related to so the relate would be pretty open.

Everyone staying at the institute because no one would take all three of them and then Mina just tagging alone because she wants to.

I feel like Max or Rafe or maybe even Tavvy would screw up and accidentally call Will Dad or Alec and this would cause a lot of panic.

Once again a shopping montage because you never have enough clothes.

The Merry thieves and the modern squad hanging out and just having fun together would be cool. They could all go to each other’s houses or the devils tavern and drink. -Which would probably be Max and Rafe’s first time drinking bc American laws are weird and different and Rafe wouldn’t break the rules.

Or Alternatively him getting in a drinking contest with someone, Matthew, and not knowing that he’s an alcoholic until way later. He would then demand that this boy go to therapy.

OMG THESE ARE ALL SO GOOD WTF FJKHFKADSFKA. AARON THESE ARE PERFECT AND SO WELL THOUGHT OUT I LOVE IT OMG.

[oflgtfol]

man i found this wolfwalkers fic from april that is totally unfinished and i never wrote any notes so i have no idea where i was going with it . i know i wanted to explore bill and moll's dynamic but man i dont actually remember how i wanted to do that screams. but anyway i do really enjoy how it started. so here it is i guess cuz idk if it will ever be officially published as completed

it takes place after the final battle but before the final scene of them traveling

That night, as the waning gibbous rises above the burning treeline, Móll urges the children onto the abandoned wagon left behind by Cromwell’s men. The hunter – Robyn’s father, she has to remind herself now – slinks away to go collect his human body, and returns five minutes later on two legs and with a horse in tow. A rivulet of blood runs down the side of his face, stark against pale skin where it must’ve blended into dark fur just moments earlier. Keenly, she’s aware of the sticky moisture still soaked into the front of her dress, the tightness of the recently-healed skin beneath. She turns away from him.

With five-fingered hands, she reaches over and tucks the blankets over each girl’s shoulders; Mebh first, already asleep and breathing heavily, then Robyn next, who blinks up at her blearily. Móll tucks a piece of unruly blonde hair behind her ear.

“Get some rest,” she murmurs. “You two deserve it.”

“Where will we go?” Robyn whispers, not out of any real desire to be quiet, but with the weight of exhaustion from the events of the past few days. Beside her, Mebh steps out of her own human body as a wolf, and immediately flops over snoring once more.

“We’re heading north for now,” Móll says, voice gentle. It had been the only direction she had been able to scout before being captured on her way back. Nonetheless, the region held promise – far from any towns, further still from any English settlers. Once they pass beyond the ridge of the hill, they should be free from the wrath of the Kilkenny soldiers, nothing but unfettered wilderness as far as the eye can see. That kind of liberty, that kind of safety, has been something she’s longed for many years to provide for Mebh and the other wolves; now, she has two more recently-turned Wolfwalkers in her pack to show it to.

For as much as Cromwell’s forces had intruded upon the wolves’ land, Móll could see from her time imprisoned that his poison had infected his own people first. Robyn and her father may have been humans for far longer than they have been Wolfwalkers, but they did not escape their time under Cromwell’s fist unscathed.

“Things will get better from here,” Móll finishes with an assuring smile. Robyn mirrors it, and finally her eyes slip closed. Her breath evens out, and with a soft exhale, her wolf slips out and curls up around Mebh’s sleeping form.

Móll settles down on the opposite side of her daughter, and with practiced ease, falls unconscious. She opens her eyes to find sharp night vision, the chittering of the night’s creatures and the distant flames crackling in her ears, smoke and charred peat burning her nose. Despite her own exhaustion, she stands up on all fours and jumps down onto the ground. She has too much to tend to before she too can rest: a wolfpack to reassure, a journey to plan, and —

As her eyes meet Robyn’s father’s from where he has latched the horse’s harness to the wagon, she thinks, and a hunter to deal with.

[gyubby99]

(Not gonna include Deena because she's an anti-hero)

Ella - Ofcourse we're starting with the main girl! So, let's review from the very beginning of your story. First off, I love female heroes. Secondly, Ella is a great hero, but not all of them get to be perfect, do they? She is flawed. First off she betrayed her father, which we neeeever really got an apology from her because OFCOURSE as a parent you must love ur child unconditionally. But we never got to see the situation get resolved. Jake's mostly watching out for Loreley, Alruna and Elias. But he never did question why, why his own daughter did that. Maybe because he already knew about Ella not wanting to marry Al? I mean yes there's a timeskip but i would love to see what actually went down when Jake found out the reason WHY we suddenly got all these allies, a goddess and a viking.. his daughter got kidnapped and suddenly she's fine? Kinda sus. Also, while I understand her insecurities, she also helped as to why the miscommunication between her and Alistar got worse. Ella herself thought that he looked scared, and thinks that he didn't mean it. In my fic she also refused to hear him out, as in continuation to the part where rosastar left, she sent them away and thought it was a mistake, and Hisaac goes to solve everything and stuff. Back to Ella, She's not perfect. After all she still had a lot to learn. She has a good heart, a very big one. She trusts a little too easily, and also never trusting the person who abused and betrayed it once. That part doesnt make her a fool. Trusting people is her decision, proving her wrong is their choice. Onto her 'heroic qualities' per se.. she is not easily taken advantage of. She knew just how to hit Alistar where it hurt, causing him to have a little "tantrum" as I've said in the previous post. She's smart, and though she lead most of her people into a massacre, she stuck to her guns and never backed down even when they seem to be in a losing streak. She made mistakes as an heir, and she fixed those mistakes and somehow evolved into an even better queen fit for the throne. You never learn until you experience it. Let's not forget her unique ability of visions when she sings the song, and on the problem solving part, in the first story she's still pretty naive about it, but she's grown a lot more in the sequel. I hope we can get to explore more of her character as a queen, how she rules her own kingdom with her sister. Ella's a great hero, I'll take that. She's not a boss, but a leader. She's shown that on multiple accounts in the sequel. How she captained the ship, and her allies, more like friends, her family was there to help her. She's a strong-willed, smart, a sassy bookworm that we all know and love. I love that she's our main character and I love her flaws and how she stands up to what she believes in, until the very end she stood for what is right, and men like canon Alistar don't like that. I love their hero-villain dynamic. Alistar is the opposite of her qualities. Ella is emotionally smart, canon Alistar is not very much so. Despite being older then Ella, Alistar is much less of an emotional mature person, and she can pull herself together. Alistar is just "girl reject? Punch girl" and it makes sense why they are a good hero-villain dynamic. Their emotional strength and maturity contradict each other. Alistar has a very unstable mental health, even more unstable than Ella's. He's used to getting what he wants, Ella learns to accept loss. Dynamic aside, Ella as a hero, I think for me, is a 9.4/10. Also she can dislocate ten bones in eighty seven ways so she must be feared.

(I am not including Aponi sorry 'cause I feel like she's on the same category as Deena)

Mia - We dont know much about Mia, sadly. Just like Carolyn, Mia also needs to be developed, because she's an essential part of the story. We've been underappreciating her traits sadly and we dont see much of her. But since she is a hero, I will be ranking her based on what I've seen. Pretty princess who carries a sword? A sassy younger sister? I do think her personality and her character overall is similar to Six the musical's Anne Boleyn, which you've compared her to. I think Clare passed on her advanced fighting skills mostly to Mia, because her performance in the war all throughout was great, even tho we've never rlly explored on that. I'd like to see u rank her abilities! (Stamina, strength, agility, speed, etc. Like her physical components and stuff. Exploring a character especially your own can be a handful, like raising a freaking child lmao) she has the physical advantage in the two sisters, and I hope we can get to explore her soon! 9.5/10! Cause I feel like there's more to it on her!

Alruna - oh god I realized we havent had more exploring and development for her. Totally loved her from the start. She's an adventurous viking, a reliable friend, a smart ruler and has some real girlbossing going on. Totally unhinged if I may add. I LOVE that Ali has a main character potential. If I didnt know about the characters my best guess of a main character would be her. I love her personality all throughout the story. If u do a little bit more exploring on her she might be your best oc yet. She puts up a good fight, resilient and I feel she would rule PERFECTLY fine by herself. We havent discovered her flaws, because despite being the best you're still not PERFECT. Alruna is a straight 9.7/10 as a hero, and we havent had more of her yet. Also may I add the fact that all throughout the first story she was only A TEEN? And she was A YOUNG ADULT IN THE SEQUEL??? It's giving very much "typical main character of a fantasy story"

Loreley - OOOOFFFFF YES KEEP THE DRAMATIC ENTRANCE DURING THE WAR IN MINDDDDD!!! HERO LORELEY IS A 9.3/10!! I love that she looks like she could end you, but she would actually wrap you around in a thick blanket while she bakes you cookies. You know she would. She is still pretty disturbed from the fact that she's a product of incest but she loves both of her parents very much. She's pretty chill considering she has fire for a hair. She might seem like she doesn't give a fuck but she does, a hundred percent. I cant think of nothing but praise for Loreley and her character as a hero. Being the daughter of Hades can cause so much misubderstanding you'd think she'd belong to the villain category but no. She's a hero, and I love that you're breaking the stereotype of Hades/anyone related to Hades as a villain. Nope! We're not doing that anymore! Loreley is a hero! I feel like she'd be kinda like Mal, and yes i know she was inspired by her, but I can just see it. Lor doesnt act very prim and proper unlike Ella and Mia, but what fucks does she give about that? She loves her family very much that she never lets anything happen to them. I feel like she would be blitz but if blitz actually listened to his therapist yk? Like Ali, we havent had more of her, besides from her dating Mia and being a goddess. So I am giving her this honest score. Loreley's been one of my mothers- I mean favorites! Would love to see her get discovered just like Carol!

Whewwwwww! That was it I think? Made me realize Ella and Alistar have only been the "main focus" here, but that's fine. Having a lot of ocs and then characterizing them is.. a handful. My main oc focus as of the moment is Marianne because I adore her story, Cause everyone has a different realm in my case. Them meeting would just be a therapy convention, unlike ur ocs who're in the same universe. Yeah, all my other ocs are underdeveloped lmfao. Inswear I'll give you a story my children *forehead kisses*

Should I add in Eve and eli lmk

@gyubby99 part two of the game.

Rate my heroes.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Ok ok I’ve had this thought for a while now, how about this. When Touya was a lil baby man his “dad” introduced him to his fellow pro hero’s daughter. Maybe the hero is a high ranking pro of another country. They hit it off and become friends. But his “dad’s” shit is too much and she notices his change and asks him and he maybe takes his anger out on her. But she just calmly takes it all, smiling and says after his rant, that he isn’t alone and tells him that her father is the same and that since her quirk (Emma Frost’s powers maybe) is powerful she’s doing the same to her. Then their friendship grows and later somethings happen Touya can’t take his BS so leaves without a trace. Years later she’s a pro hero ranking in top 5 in her country. They meet through pure coincidence. And he sees that she has an engagement ring on, and he’s like wtf and she just gives him a heartbreaking smile and says that maybe if he stayed it could have been him who gave that to her 🥺 you can go on from there Sorry it’s so long😥

I’m not going to force you to write it, just trying to give you ideas to inspire your writing. please don’t think that I’m forcing this on you 🙏🙏🙏 if you want to then ONLY should you write it okay 🥺😭

Can we just take a moment to look at him😭💔❤

Ps: sorry about the quirk part ;-; only after I saw it was a specific one

"UGH!" The once red haired kid hissed in pain as his body double over... sometimes he wished he could just had gained the blessing of not only rememberinh his mother, but inhering her quirk as well... his blue flames accordinh to his father cartied more potential than his... that he was almost perfect...

Yet he wasn't. His body couldn't handle the heat... as well as his mind couldn't tolerate more of the mental and physical abuse Endeavour put him, his siblings and mother too...

His forehead was against the ground as hs gritted his teeth the best he could to not pet out one miserable yey possibly inhuman shout... both of pain and anger.

Although he flinched back up when he fept a touch near his hot shoulder... thinking that was possibly his baby brother Natsuo worried abiyt him once again.

But it wasn't the white haired kid... it was you... standing in front of him with a worried face wjile holding a bucket of possible icy water and some towels.

"What?" He scoffs, doing his best to stand up without trembling.

(L/n) (Y/n) was the daughter of a famous pro hero from America... Her father being a close friend of Endeavour, somehow, introduced his daughter to the old man... the girl was a compassionate soul with a telepathic diamond kinda like quirk. Both of you grew closer as time went by... yet, he couldn't sadly hide it the pain he felt as his father slowly grew to be a abuser...

He couldn't just tell you about it. For what? Ruin the pertect Todoroki family sterotype and for yoi just to rub into his face about your perfect little lovingly family?

He would rather not.. bit todaay he was just fuming. Angry at his father, angry at his quirk... angry at himself

"You're burning up Touya-kun..." you whispered while kneeling down next to his fetal position form "Rough training..?" You whispered softly whiel clenching the towel before slowly rubbing the visible parts of his skin...

He remained silent, a frow present on his features as he clenched his legs closer to his torso.

"... Touya-kun?"he grunted at your call amd tried not to wince at the cold wet towel on his cheek "Is not only training right?"

"Took you long enough smartpants..." he chuckled darkly, brushing you off and putting his legs on a crossstype sitting.

".. wanna talk about it? It usually he-"

"Oh, like talking will just stop my stupid father to beat my mother and treat me and my siblings like shit.." he gritted his teeth at the memory and for spilling out what he didn't wanted to.

He saw how your eyes widened from the corner of his turquoise ones... scoffing at your reaction.

"Touya-kun I.. I know what is-"

"Oh dont come with the "i know how you feel" talk." He growled, glaring at you in anger "The spoiled princess have everything to goods and food in your home. A dad that just doesn't smiles as often as All Might, a mother that always remain by your side no matter what and you come with that bullshit?!" He widened his eyes at the curse he let out and how he shouted at you... a billions of regrets already forming inside his head until he saw a bit of tears on your eyes yet a kind and painfull smile on your lips.

"You think is like that?" You almost sobbed the words until you pulled your sleeves up to show him marks of cigaretes, cuts and purples dots adoring your skin as his eyes widened in horror...

"W..what?" He almost whispered as he grab your arm to inspectes closer.

"The comet hero, example of a father... does this to me every single day he comes back from a fight that didn't ended well or when I mess up with something on my training... while my mom is always drinking and watchs from a safe distance to not be hurr as well..."

Horror was present on his face as anger slowed build inside of him... so this was what heroes do to their children?! Him and you had been suffering in the hands of the most powerful and respected heroes out there...

If he had control over his power he swore he would chase your father down for everything he done to you.

"So yeah... I know how you must feel... Touya. You're not alone..." your arms slipped from his grasp only for you to fill the empty of his hands with yours, interviewing your fingers with his.

He couldn't even answer as he pulled you gently to hug as he craddled your head between his neck and hand, carresing your back with his free one.

If only he could be a little more strong... only to protect you and himself...

Yet that didn't stopped him to vow to himself to get some revenge on both of you.

.

.

.

Finally he was meeting wuth his baby brother Shouto. And now he was ready to burn all of the heroes and students present there just to prove his point that none of them were worth of even living.

Yes he was crazy, a sociopath that killed more than one hundred people. But whose fault was that again? Oh right! Endeavour... Todoroki Enji. His father that could dance with his son on the deepest parts of hell.

Just when he was about to send a attach towards Shoto the chaos around him was mute for a short few seconds.

'You would really hurt your younger brother like that..? Touya?'

"What the fuck..?" He muttered before receiving a kick on his hut wnough for him to gag on his own blood.

Quickly recovering he sended another attack only to see a woman made of diamond standing next to him, panting as her grip on the blades remained.

"Touya..." you blinked and a soon more human like appearance got back as the woman stared at him with horror "What happened to you?"

"Do I even know you sweetcheeks?" He asked nonchamtly before sending another wave of flames towards your direction only for your arm to get back on a diamond like shape as you blocked the attack.

"Seriously?!" You gasped while holding your blades.

He was about to attack before a flash of memories of his childhood appeared as he groaned at the pain it actually felt, but still reamained stood until his eyes widened at a image of his long lost childhood friend...

When his vision got back he stared at you... recogjizing finally after so many years.

"So you devided to become one of those fake heroes too (Y/n)..?" He snarled, forearm in front of him as he lit it into flames, hiding the actual hurt he felt.

"Our parents may have acted this way, but that doesn't mean all heroes belong to a world full of lies!"

"Bullshit." He attacked once again as you dodged, coming closer to him as he groaned and managed to lock you in the ground... seing a golden ring on your left hand as you tried to controp your breathing at seing his hand on your throat.

"What the fuck...?" That was a weeding ring... a fucking weeding ring. The woman that was supposw to be his was married to someone else...

You realized his grip lessen up a bit only because of the sign of the ring on your finger... realization come into your senses as you felt tears start to form in yout eyes as you manage to smile a bit... unknown to Dabi that you were contacting your side kick and husband to come for your rescue.

"... you know..." you brushed your fingers on his scarred face much like you did years ago, making him freeze qith turquoise eyes wide open "... it could have been you.. but.. you .. I thought you were.."

"Dead..?" He mumbled, still on top of you as his eyes narrowed at the golden ring ".. I wish.."

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Aftermath)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is about 17 or 18; i cried while writing this. sorry this is really long!!! pls forgive me 🥺

prompt: takes place from a3 to smffh

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Intense Years (3) Continued (5)

let’s start on a happy note! ahahah

so for a while, earth was calm

you, pepper, and tony got to be a family for a while

wedding planning!

of course you got to try the ben&jerry’s ice cream named after your dad: Stark Raving Hazelnuts

“it’s not fair that you got ice cream named after you and i didn’t”

“well, when you grow up to be as awesome as me, maybe you’ll get your own ice cream flavor”

developing nanotech suits together for a Bonding Experience(tm)

speechless after the first test

“dad, this is...”

“the coolest thing to ever exist?”

“yes!!”

yall ready for some shit?

the day that ebony maw invaded was pretty—what’s the word? interesting? no. well, yes, but...HORRIBLE.

it all started when you got the call from your dad

“y/n, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“god, i really have to change that. okay, JOSHIE, answer it. hey, dad? what’s up?”

“hey, kid! you know that weird ass building on bleecker street? how fast can you get here?”

“JOSH can you track FRIDAY really quick? lets see how far dad is...uh, okay, be there in five, see ya”

taking your suit for a spin and realizing how GREAT it was to be able to basically fold up your suit and put it in your back pocket

knocking on the door and it opened on its own, it was kinda cool

“is this a museum? cool.”

bruce turning around to see you after about three years and giving you an awkward smile and a wave while you stood frozen around the wizard-guys

“y/n, god, you’ve grown up!”

charging into him for a long overdue hug

“you don’t know how much i missed you. it’s been chaotic without you”

“i can...i can only imagine”

a debriefing on the situation you were about to face, and bonus! having to play the catch-up game with bruce

“just call him, dad. we need as much help as we can. steve will understand”

rushing outside to face off with some ugly-ass aliens

“oh nooo, it’s roger smith from american dad”

bruce: 👀, stephen: 👀, wong: 👀, tony: 👏👏🥰 that’s my girl

simultaneous nanosuit unveiling

“you ready for this one, pops?”

“of course! ive waited years to kick some more alien ass”

montage of you and tony getting your asses beat together (as a family <3)

peter showing up

“give me one good reason why i shouldn’t send you back to that school bus”

“because i’m good company?”

“whatever, just listen to whatever dad has to say, i forfeit my responsibilities over you”

pew pew, repulsors, pew, tiny rockets! fun! action! destroying new york again and again. good times...

until JOSHUA gave you notice that your dad was flying high

“call him. now.”

“hey! how’s it going down there?”

“dad, you know how i feel about you and space”

“i know, i know. i just...i gotta take care of this. keep pepper safe for your old man, okay?”

“i lo—l—ve y—”

“y/n? y/n?! i love you! shit!”

“we lost connection with her, sir”

trying to call peter

“call failed, y/n. should i try again?”

“i’m gonna kill them...”

walking through the rubble to find bruce, the only sensible man you know

taking him to the avengers compound asap to get to rhodey and figure out what comes next

meanwhile, tony was dealing with space and another teenager

and worrying a lot about leaving you on earth

“i mean, mr. stark, y/n’s one of the most capable people i know. she’s probably trying to fix this whole mess as we speak”

“i didn’t get to tell her i love her”

“oh...”

having a lovely meeting with thaddeus ross with rhodey, having a lovely time watching them passive-aggresively argue until your former teammates arrived

having to patiently (and professionally) wait for ross to hang up before running into them for a hug

“holy shit, you guys have no idea how bad i’ve wanted to see you. it sucks not being all together anymore”

“i know, y/n. we’ve all missed you.” -cap

“a lot” -nat added

bruce’s little entrance that was sure to bring some awkwardness

you, secretly freaking out about your dad

sam was the one that found you crying after you “stepped out” for a few minutes too long

“oh, y/n,” he was contemplating grabbing someone else to step in, but decided to sit next to you in the hallway, “i’m sorry, kiddo. i can’t promise you anything, but your dad is a fighter. a big pain in the ass. i think your odds are good”

laughing through your tears

“yeah, you’re right. thanks, sammy”

he gave you a little hug while you calmed down

getting to business, the ass-kicking kind

as the wise natasha romanoff once said to your father, you were being “uncharacteristically non-hyper verbal”

your mind did this funny thing...wandered into places it really should not go

the talk about sacrificing vision led to wakanda, where you had a swell time patrolling

“guys! we’ve got incoming. a lot of incoming”

well-deserved uncle/niece team up. who wouldve thought?

you would have nightmares about these aliens for years to come

“you get to die, and you get to die! everybody gets to die!”

“y/n, what did we talk about?” -rhodey

“using humor as a defense mechanism makes the team uncomfortable...”

covering the girls 😌 because we gotta have those all-girl teamups, uh-huh?

some more blasting

thor made his comeback and you just could not miss it

“hi, thor!”

you landed next to him and your helmet receded

“well, hello, miss y/n! good to see you again! my, you got taller...oh! meet my friends: rabbit and tree”

having a “what the actual fuck” moment upon seeing thanos for the first time

and flying at him from behind with a massive nanotech blade ready to kill this purple bastard

but he grabbed your arm and flung you into the dirt, that was gonna leave a mark

“i just had to make a suit when i was ten...no one stopped me, huh? i couldn’t be elon’s kid, he was a nice guy”

watching thanos snap his fingers and looking around to see dust floating through the air and thanos retreat

“rhodey? uncle rhodey?!”

“i’m right here, kid, don’t worry”

he grabbed your hand while you were dusting

“tell my dad i love him, promise?”

fading away and leaving rhodey with your last words

he was mad before anything else

all he could think about was a promise your dad made him take years back

“rhodey, you keep my daughter safe no matter what, promise?”

the avengers recooperating at the compound, waiting to figure out whether any of the space-crew survived

they had to let pepper know that you didn’t make it, she was a mess upon hearing that news

tony finally making his way back to earth

and stumbling out of that ship

“where’s y/n? where is she?!”

“tony, tony, calm down”

“dont tell me to calm down! where is my daughter?!”

“she made me promise to tell you thay she loves you”

tony knew the answer by now, he lost his mind over your death

it didn’t feel right not having you by his side, for the past 18 years you’ve been with him

after a long period of recovery, tony and pepper moved on, got married, built a home, had a new daughter...

tony made sure there was a spare room for you

he put all the things you left behind in it

there were so many photos of you in the house

and he’d show your sister, morgan, all of them. he wanted morgan to know her sister

“that’s y/n when she built her first robot. it snuck up on me a few times. it went ‘boo!’”

morgan loved the stories about you, but she didn’t understand why she couldn’t see you

“when do i get to meet her?”

“uh...maybe someday, sweetie”

after being unbothered for almost 5 years, the remaining avengers came back with a plan that was so tempting, he just wanted his little girl back

cracking under pressure and telling pepper that he couldn’t ignore this mission because it was his chance to get you back

“get her back, tony”

“you think so?”

“i miss her, too.”

and so it began, he made it his mission to get you back

peeking at the wallet picture of you on his shoulders when you were so little

tony travelling to 2012; loki’s invasion

and there you were, the sassy genius 12 year old that he missed so much

“we’ve got this, tony, we’ll bring her home” -scott

and then things went badly and also 2012 tony went into cardiac arrest and 2012 y/n dove onto the floor to tend to him

“dad? give us some room, would you?!”

2023 tony smiling at how much he missed you worrying about him and how reckless he was

but also...the mission kinda went bad so that sucked

push it a bit farther back and now tony was with grandpa stark! asking how to be a dad and all that!

he could barely stand still waiting for you to come back to him, god he missed you more than he thought

and after a bit of hard work, it was time to snap

just like that, you were back in wakanda, puzzled by the gap in time before one of dr. strange’s portals opened in front of you

and then you were in the ruins of the avengers compound

“JOSHUA, can you locate my dad?”

“i think you’ll be able to see him”

“wow, i cant believe i programmed your cocky artificial ass”

“i think you can”

seeing your dad flying high and patching into the comms

“miss me, old man?”

and then he hit the gas to get to you and when this man hugged you, you almost couldn’t let go

“i’m so sorry, y/n. god, i’m sorry. these last five years...i was so lost without you”

“it’s okay, dad, i’m here now”

getting shot at during your reunion

“son of a bitch...we’re having a family moment here, asshole!”

yes, im gonna say it again. of course i am! and.........father/daugher team-up

the last one

“peter, is that you? you asshole! i cant believe you went to space without me!”

“missed you too!”

rhodey!! cant forget about uncle rhodey!!

“you gave my dad the message, right?”

“it was your dying wish, of course i did!”

“great. don’t forget i love you, too, rhodey!”

“couldn’t let me forget it”

lest we forget that pepper joined the fight?

plot twist: (step)mother/daughter team-up

mother/father/daugher team up!!!! ultimate stark machine!!!!!!!

and then you left him alone for 5 minutes and he’s got the infinity stones and you know it’s the last time you’re going to see him and you cant decide what your next move is and you’re just frozen and you cant catch your breath and he snaps and your heart plummets

you have to rush to his side, the last time you can sit beside his tired body and let him know that its going to be okay

“hey dad, it’s okay, we’re gonna be fine. thank you for everything”

peter grabbing your hand as you both sobbed next to your dad, feeling robbed of your time with him

pepper brought you home where she told you all about the five years you missed

both of you just cried harder than you’ve ever cried before

“so i have a sister?”

morgan was so happy to meet you, she couldn’t contain herself, practically latched onto you

and she didn’t fully understand what happened to tony

you saw your new room for the first time and didn’t leave it for a while, occasionally pepper or morgan would pop in

morgan actually crawled into bed with you a few times

the funeral was one of the worst days of your life

the remnants of your young life pulled back together for one day

then you hid back in your room before you heard a knock

“who is it?”

“it’s happy”

“come in”

“hey, kiddo. me and morgan are gonna get some cheeseburgers, you wanna come?”

she really was a stark

after a long hibernation, you started to get back into the groove of your old life

but the press was brutal and harsh, you were bombarded with questions regarding your dad

it took everything not to explode on camera

you stayed in contact with the rest of the avengers, mourning your dead, keeping the support system, staying a family

it was all you could get...for now

[wickedpact]

Idea for a JoexNicky fic!! (anon here)- piggybacking off the other anon's nicky's mom idea, what if for an anniversary present, Joe sketches a portrait of Nicky's mother? (obviously she'd look like a beautiful warm goddess of kindness) Like maybe he has a dream of one of Nicky's most vivid memories ;-; I would literally die

so uh. this bloomed wildly out of my control

this ficlet is 5k words long so dont open that read more unless youre willing to commit to it

warnings: brief discussions of violence, extremely brief mention of sex, me not knowing how the FUCK one becomes a priest in Ye Olde 1000′s, and probably a criminal lack of historical accuracy as well as a criminal lack of the accented o in ‘nicolo’

yeehaw.

  It starts with one of Andromache’s sparring sessions, and of course by ‘sparring’ session Nicolo means a session in which Andromache was in a piss poor mood for no obvious reason, and decided to take it out on the rest of them.

 These sessions tend to start with Andromache coming hurtling into their camp with a dark expression on her face, and end with Yusuf and Nicolo sprawled on the ground, bruised and exhausted, while Andromache and Quynh beat the ever-loving hell out of each other nearby. (Yusuf has been convinced for a long time that it's some sort of mating ritual; Nicolo... doubts it.)

This time around, they are at some point after Nicolo has given up, and some point before Yusuf has joined him; Nicolo lies on the sand, starfished, while Quynh and Yusuf attempt to tag team Andromache with an abundance of vigor and middling results. Nicolo cranes his neck to watch the spectacle, catching a glimpse of Andromache flipping Quynh straight over her shoulder before twisting around and kicking Yusuf dangerously close to the groin. Yusuf stumbles, and Andromache grabs him by the shoulder, shoving his considerable weight off of his feet and towards Nicolo’s resting spot.

Yusuf, stumbling, manages to not trip over Nicolo by inches, and falls face-first onto the ground beside him with a groan. Meanwhile, Quynh has recovered and charges at Andy again, beginning their age-old dance yet again.

Yusuf grumbles at Nicolo’s side and peels himself off the ground, leveraging onto a knee. Nicolo drops his head back down to look at him, smiling when he swipes a hand across his beard to dislodge the sand accumulating there. Having been roasting under the midday sun and the excursion of the fight for hours now, Yusuf is layered in sweat and breathing heavily but evenly, chest and shoulders heaving slowly with each breath. Nicolo’s mouth goes crooked watching him.

“She doesn’t attack still targets,” he advises, amused, lying still atop the sand.

“Like a lioness!” Yusuf agrees with a zest Nicolo lost about thirteen minutes ago. He pulls himself onto both knees and balances on them, wavering in a way that makes Nicolo want to give him a steadying hand. “Hm.” Yusuf braces a hand on his thigh, face scrunching up in consideration. “No. I don’t think so.”

And then he plops, face first, back to the sand. Nicolo gives him an encouraging pat on the back with his knuckles.

“Are you two giving up?” Andromache calls over. Nicolo cranes his head up again to see that Quynh is on the ground yet again, slowly stumbling to her feet, and Andromache stands with her back to her, facing them. Her hands are on her hips.

“Yes. Thank you for checking in!” Nicolo confirms, lifting a hand to give her a thumbs up. Andromache responds to the sass with a raised eyebrow before whirling around and punching Quynh in the stomach before the younger immortal could sneak up on her.

Quynh goes down for the-- who knows how many times now, and Nicolo drops his head. He squints up at the wavering blue lines of the sky until Andromache’s white robes cross his vision, casting a shadow over his and Yusuf’s resting forms.

“Get up,” Andromache insists, nudging Nicolo with her boot. “I’m not done with you two yet.”

“You can’t make us,” Yusuf grumbles into the sand.

“You bet I can’t?” Andromache threatens, more a tease than a promise. When neither of them reply, she rolls her eyes and says, with a less than gentle kick to Yusuf’s side, “You babies are so soft.”

Yusuf hisses, rolling away from Andromache’s boot, into Nicolo’s side. “Son of a whore, Andromache, knock it off,” he grouches, dropping his shoulder atop Nicolo’s. Nicolo grunts with the weight of it. “Or daughter of a whore, that is,” he corrects himself, then adds thoughtfully, “No offense to your mother, if she were a woman of the night. What did your mother do, Andromache?”

Andromache laughs at Yusuf’s meandering insult-- a posturing bluster of a laugh that makes Nicolo blink, wondering if Yusuf’s actually offended her somehow. If so this would be the first time; Nicolo has always known Andromache to be thicker skinned than a mule.

But then she says, “I don’t remember my mother. Who knows,” and turns and heads back over to Quynh, who’s only just recovered from before. They resume sparring, Nicolo watching them with mild confusion.

Nicolo turns to look at Yusuf, wondering if he’d caught onto Andromache’s discomfort, but when Nicolo catches his eye, he just shrugs his shoulder against the sand and says, “Well, that’s a line that’ll end an argument every time, eh?”

~

Later on, Nicolo is still considering it, sprawled in front of the fire --that Quynh had constructed a couple hours prior-- with Yusuf, Nicolo slouched against his chest and bracketed by his bent knees. Andromache and Quynh are arguing over the linen tent a little ways off, and Nicolo watches Andromache carefully, the lines on her face and the muscles in her arms, the working parts of her that have existed on this earth for thousands of years. The things her hands have done; the things her eyes have seen.

The things her heart has forgotten.

“You are thinking very loudly over there,” Yusuf says from somewhere over Nicolo’s head. Nicolo shifts his eyes from Andromache and Qyunh, to the fire, to his and Yusuf’s legs stretched out before it. He tilts his head back, the top of his head against Yusuf’s sternum, but all he can see from that angle is Yusuf’s beard, so he drops his head back down with a little amused huff.

“Andromache is very old,” Nicolo says slowly.

“Ah, yes,” Yusuf agrees, amiable. “Also: water is very wet, and the desert is very hot.”

“S’cold at night,” Nicolo grumbles, just to be contrary, and is rewarded by Yusuf slipping his arms under Nicolo’s, bundling him closer to his chest and notching his chin over his head.

“What’s wrong, Nico?”

Nicolo requires no further prompting, not from Yusuf at least. The words come tumbling out of his mouth, one at a time. “She doesn’t remember her mother.”

There’s little more that needs to be said there. The immortal life is one that comes with many downsides, and the nature of it is that sometimes one discovers these downsides centuries later than expected. This isn’t the first time an unexpected side-effect of their unending lives has been thrust upon him and Yusuf, and likely won’t be the last.

Nicolo had never really thought he might one day forget his mother.

 Yusuf hums thoughtfully in response, a non-answer that does little to soothe Nicolo. “That she doesn’t,” he adds after a moment. “What was your mother like?”

“I don’t--” Nicolo starts, and then, with an odd curiosity, realizes he’s having difficulty continuing. “I... didn’t know her very long. I was given to the church… very young. I don’t remember much of what she was like, other than that she was my mother.”

“Do you remember what she looked like?”

“Well…” 

Nicolo remembers little of his life before the clergy. Two brothers. A sister. His father’s stern brow, and the calluses on his mother’s hand as she took his little fingers in hers, leading him down the dirt paths back in Genova. Her smile, silhouetted by the heady red glow of the afternoon sun. 

“Brown hair,” Nicolo eventually answers. “Dark eyebrows. High cheekbones, too, and… and kind eyes.”

“What I’m hearing is you took after her very strongly.”

Nicolo smiles. “I do remember being told something of the sort before.”

“Her eyes?” Joe rests one of his palms flat against Nicolo’s stomach.

“Green, I’m pretty sure.”

“So you took after her very strongly, then,” Joe concludes.

Nicolo looks down, fiddling with the fingers of Joe’s free hand. “She used to take me to the shore. We’d gather seashells together.”

That he remembers well, plucking seashells and bits of coral out from dried seafoam after the tide had gone out near the end of the day, one arm bundling conch and clam shells against his chest, the other prying washed-up shells from the still wet sand. The sun would be low, but not low enough that they would feel the need to rush, and it would cast their shadows in long, blue lines across the beach. Time was an endless thing there, where the sun glowed red and bright, and there was always another conch shell wedged in the damp earth to dig up.

“She sounds lovely,” Yusuf hums. Nicolo pauses, tracing Yusuf’s index finger with his own. Yusuf almost never talks about his family. They have known each other for nearly three hundred years now, and yet Nicolo could store all the things he knows of Yusuf's family in a basket. Over the years he’s been able to piece together that both of Yusuf’s parents were dead before the Crusades began. And that they both died when Yusuf was fairly young. Beyond that… he knows little.

“Yusuf…” Nicolo starts, uncertain and fidgeting. “What about your mother?”

“My mother?” Yusuf repeats, as if Nicolo has somehow strung together two incomprehensible words. 

“Yes.” When a pause stretches between them, Nicolo sighs and laces his fingers between Yusuf’s. “You don’t need to tell me.”

“No, no,” Yusuf insists before Nicolo can change the topic. He returns Nicolo’s grip on his hands, smoothing his thumb over the knuckle of Nicolo’s pointer finger. “I want to. My mother…” He sighs. “She was very anxious. Always fretting. She was a weaver; she liked making rugs.”

Yusuf’s thumb stills over Nicolo’s knuckle. Nicolo tilts his head. “Your prayer mat. Did she--?

“Yeah, she made it.” Yusuf pauses again. “Weaving calmed her down when she was nervous. My father and I, we would travel often-- business, you know. Trade deals and things. Mother always worried when we were gone.”

They both pause when Quynh yells something particularly loud at Andromache, breaking the moment for a split second. Andromache hollers something back, and the two women break out into abrupt laughter.

“Are you worried you’ll forget her?” Nicolo asks when they've settled again. “Your mother?”

“No,” Yusuf replies, though he trails off halfway through the word. “In part, I suppose… but there are many things I’d like to forget, I think.”

Nicolo peels himself out of Yusuf’s arms in response to that, twisting around to look at his companion. Yusuf’s brows are pressed together, the tilt of his mouth sad. Nicolo places a hand to his chest, fingers against Yusuf’s collar. “Yusuf?”

Yusuf sucks the inside of his cheek, looking far away before directing a sad smile at Nicolo. “She came with us, once. On a trip. Of course the one time Father allowed her to come was the time that it went wrong.” At Nicolo’s questioning look, Yusuf elaborates, “Bandits.”

“Yusuf...”

“I hadn’t really known how to fight, then, so it didn’t… really matter, either way-- but I got knocked out in the fight, and by the time I woke up again, it was all over.” With a slow breath, Yusuf looks down at their interwoven fingers. “I would like to forget some things. Not her, but…” 

It takes Yusuf a long moment to continue. He looks up, towards the stars, lips pursed with thought, before eventually ducking his head again. Nicolo waits quietly.

“It is hard to remember them,” Yusuf says eventually, to their hands, “without remembering them in death. I had to bury them both.”

With a soft noise, Nicolo reaches forward and pulls Yusuf into a hug, arms wrapping about his shoulders; Yusuf responds in chorus and reaches for Nicolo back, his embrace tight enough to grind bone.

Nicolo rubs a hand up and down Yusuf’s back, his face tucked into Nicolo’s shoulder. Perturbed, Nicolo can’t imagine it- the comforting memory of his own mother, crossed and tainted by violence so cruelly. To lose her was enough. To lose the comfort of remembering her as well would be harrowing.

Yusuf pulls away first after some time, eyes red but dry, mouth turned down. Nicolo reaches up and thumbs at the crease between his brows, which quirks Yusuf’s lips ever so slightly.

“How old were you?” Nicolo asks.

Yusuf reaches up and takes Nicolo’s hand from his face, wrapping his fingers around his. “Twenty one.”

“A child.”

“Hardly, Nico,” Yusuf snorts softly. Nicolo disagrees, but he’s not going to start an argument over it. Not now.

With a sigh, Yusuf leans back against the rock formation behind them, wrapping an arm around Nicolo and tugging him sideways against his chest. Nicolo rests his head against Yusuf's shoulder.

“It’s not that I wish to forget her. Or my father. But I… would rather fondly remember the idea of them, the fragments, then remember them perfectly in death. That might make me selfish.”

“It does not,” Nicolo replies sternly. “It makes perfect sense to feel that way, Yusuf.” And then, “I’m sorry.” Yusuf only hums in response. It is, admittedly, a frail sentiment, so Nicolo adds, “I love you. In case you’ve forgotten.”

This earns him a huff against the top of his head. “I love you too,” Yusuf responds, and they fall into an easy silence.

After a few minutes, and with a great sigh, Yusuf tilts his head so that his cheek presses against Nicolo’s hair. “Nicolo…” he mumbles, hesitant, “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, but... I think we’re sleeping under the stars tonight.”

Nicolo lifts his head and twists around to find the half-assembled and frankly pathetic looking tent swaying off in the distance alone, with both Andromache and Quynh nowhere in sight.

“The consolidated wisdom of millenia,” Nicolo grumbles, dropping his head back against Yusuf. “And they still can’t assemble a tent.”

Yusuf laughs; Nicolo is by far more warmed by that than any comfort the damned tent could have offered.

~

Quynh has the little joke of hers whenever they go drinking. She’ll tell Yusuf, giggling into her tankard, “I miss when you didn’t drink!”

This is a joke because Yusuf gave up his abstinence of alcohol only a few months after he and Nicolo had met Quynh and Andromache, nearly two hundred years ago now, and when he’d announced his decision to do so to the two warrior women, they’d both admitted they didn’t even realize that he didn’t drink in the first place. 

Nearly two hundred years later, Quynh continues to make this joke. Nicolo has yet to find it funny, but Yusuf laughs every time.

“It’s our anniversary, Quynh, you must be nice to us!” Yusuf insists in response to said joke. He is, as Andromache might say, drunk off his ass, swaying happily in his seat at the musty bar they’ve settled in for the night to celebrate. Despite how loudly he’s speaking, Nicolo can barely hear him over the clatter and bustle and chatter of the other, varyingly drunk, patrons at the bar.

“Three hundred years is nothing, Yusuf. You’re still babies,” Andromache replies, equally smashed yet bearing it more stoically, pitched against Quynh’s shoulder. One of her hands is still curled loosely around her tankard, unwilling to give it up just yet, probably.

Nicolo leans back against his rickety chair. “Do you two remember when you only knew each other for three hundred years?”

In response to this, Andromache pulls back from Quynh’s shoulder, propping herself up on the edge of a table with her free hand. She tilts her head, staring silently at Quynh with a quirked mouth, and Quynh stares back, eyebrows raised high. Nicolo’s gaze flicks between the two warrior women, eyeing them both, studying the emotion in their eyes and their mouths and their brows. 

For nearly an entire minute they say nothing. They have no need to. The charged gaze between them could write entire epics; legions of words pass between them and neither woman even opens her mouth.

Nicolo finds himself slightly jealous. He wonders if he and Yusuf will ever hit a point such as this, where they could communicate without words, know each other so well that even a twitch of the brow or a press of lips could mean so much-- that words become irrelevant. Become small and useless compared to the years of their bond.

“It was a time,” Quynh answers at last, smiling a far away smile.

“That’s different,” Yusuf interrupts, slurring slightly and grinning widely. “because, this isn’t about how long you two have known each other, but how long I’ve known Nicolo,” here, he gestures broadly at Nicolo, sitting at his side, “and when you two will have known Nicolo for three hundred years, and-- and want to celebrate, I will not laugh at your paltry few years spent with him, in comparison to my many centuries! And you may-- may thank me for my generosity and kindness-- then.”

Quynh snorts. “That was very poetic of you, Yusuf.”

“Thank you.” Yusuf places a calloused hand atop Nicolo’s head. “I love him very much,” he states, very sincerely, if a little slurred.

Andromache, as always, seems to feel a compulsion to try and ruin the moment. Their Andromache, old and wise as she is, is a great many things: an elegant warrior, a stern protector, and a graceful leader-- however, a kind drunk she is not.  “You know, you’ll get tired of each other eventually,” she points out, gesturing between the two of them. Yusuf rolls his eyes, his hand slipping from Nicolo’s head. “Quynh and I usually separate every couple hundred years for a time. It’s normal.”

“Bah,” Yusuf grumbles. “Andromache, you do not have a romantic bone in your body.”

“I do!” Andromache insists. Quynh sends her a sharp look that she doesn’t see because she’s too busy waving her hand widely. “I have been with, and wooed, and have been wooed by-- by more men and women than you’ve ever even set eyes on.”

Yusuf copies Andromache’s grand gesture, cheery and mocking. “That, what you’ve just described, is the opposite of romance, boss.”

“Whatever,” Andromache concedes with middling grace. “I’m happy for you two, either way.”

“Thank you,” Nicolo says, so that Yusuf won't say anything else. “Another round?”

~

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” Yusuf says to Nicolo an hour or so later, as Nicolo is trying to haul the damned drunk up the stairs without sending them both sprawling down to their temporary deaths.

Funnily enough, around the time Yusuf began drinking, Nicolo stopped-- not out of any particular thoughts on alcohol itself, but because someone had to remain sober in order to drag Yusuf’s drunken ass back to their room at the end of the night, and the responsibility fell to Nicolo for all of the obvious reasons, and also because he was happy to do it.

“Who?” Nicolo asks, steadying a hand on Yusuf’s shoulder when he sways at the top dangerously.

“Andromache,” Yusuf replies. Nicolo’s not sure what exactly Yusuf thinks she was wrong about-- they’d discussed many topics at the bar downstairs-- but he might succeed in having this conversation more so if Andromache and Quynh weren’t standing no less than five feet away, hovering just inside their room’s open door down the hall, stripping down to their tunics and trousers.

Probably standing by in case Nicolo and Yusuf took an unfortunate tumble down the stairs. Nicolo is warmed by their concern, but Yusuf is too busy being drunkenly confused by Andromache’s presence after she calls over an “about what?” to think of such things.

“Where did you come from?” Yusuf asks Andromache, only going half willingly when Nicolo rolls his eyes and drags him down the hall.

“Thank you, good night,” Nicolo tells the two women as they pass their door and head down the hall to theirs, floorboards creaking under their boots.

“Have a nice anniversary, infants!” Andromach calls after they manage to stumble to their door, sticking her head out of theirs.

Nicolo fiddles with the key the barkeep gave him, trying desperately to ignore Yusuf when he yells back, “Us infants will try not to fuck so loud you can hear it all the way down there!” probably scarring some of the tenants.

“I bet you can’t!” Andromache responds, gleeful, and ducks back inside to slam the door shut.

“Is that a fucking challenge?” Yusuf asks the empty hallway, going easily when Nicolo drags him inside.

It’s a humble room, but the presence of four walls and a floor makes it good enough for Nicolo, and the bed is only an added bonus. He leaves Yusuf to his own devices as he lights the lantern set in the corner, double checking that their bags --that they’d tossed in the room earlier-- haven’t been stolen. He nudges the bags with a toe as he unlatches his longsword from his belt, propping the sheath up carefully by the little table with the lantern.

Yusuf is being oddly quiet; Nicolo turns to find the love of his life lying starfished on the little bed, peering up at the wood ceiling as if the secrets of the universe are engraved on it.

“I am so tired, Nicolo,” Yusuf mumbles, mournful. “Why did you make me go up all those stairs?”

“I am infamously known to be cruel and unfair,” Nicolo replies dryly, crossing over and sitting next to Yusuf. He unbuckles the straps around Yusuf’s shoulders that keep his scimitar attached to his back while Yusuf lies still. When the task is done, he looks up to find Yusuf staring at him, brows drawn together. “Lean up,” Nicolo orders softly, and Yusuf complies without complaint, shifting his shoulders off the bed just enough that Nicolo can pull his sheath off.

He stands to go retrieve his own sword, so that both can be placed at their bedside, within reach, shucking off his boots as he goes.

“Can you grab my bag for me?” Yusuf asks from the bed while Nicolo is doing so, so Nicolo does, balancing the two sheathed swords under one arm and holding Yusuf’s rucksack in the other.

He drops the bag at Yusuf's side and sits beside it, setting both swords at his feet, on the left side of the bed. Usually Yusuf’s scimitar goes on the other side, but Nicolo does not trust him with access to a sharp object in this state.

Yusuf sits up to shuffle through his bag. “I got you something,” he tells Nicolo when he straightens. Nicolo frowns at him.

“You got me something?” he repeats. 

“Yeah.” Yusuf pulls out his sketchbook, though he doesn't grab his bag of charcoals.

But I didn’t get you anything, is something Nicolo almost wants to say, but honestly, three hundred years into a relationship, you stop keeping track of how many gifts have been exchanged and when. Especially when their finances are so intertwined. Nicolo and Yusuf simply buy each other things whenever the urge arises, and they’re both such men that these gifts are usually just practical items: new boots, a thicker cloak, and so on.

But now Yusuf passes Nicolo his sketchbook, turning back to the bag to buckle it closed again.

“A sketchbook,” Nicolo muses with a smile, rubbing a thumb over the bound leather cover. “You shouldn't have.”

“Oh, stop,” Yusuf grumbles, snatching the book back once his bag is closed. He shoves it off the bed with a mildly worrying clank and sits in its vacated spot, next to Nicolo. “Your jokes will make you look a fool when you are crying tears of gratitude on me.” 

Nicolo smiles. Yusuf’s thigh, pressed against Nicolo’s, is warm, and his shoulder knocks against Nicolo’s with such familiarity Nicolo wonders if he could identify Yusuf from that alone; without sight, without hearing. He thinks he could, given the opportunity.

Yusuf flips through his sketchbook quickly, scanning past images of landscapes and crowded marketplaces and Nicolo’s own smiling face until he stops at a certain page, angling the book away so that Nicolo cannot see. He peers sideways at him, suspicious or maybe anticipatory.

“Do you expect me to start the tears of gratitude now, or…?” Nicolo asks, grinning at Yusuf’s unamused stare before Yusuf shoves the book into Nicolo’s open hands.

Nicolo doesn’t understand what he’s looking at, at first. Not that he doesn’t recognize the image; he does, he just doesn’t... understand.

“How…?” Nicolo asks, trailing off in wonder. He lifts a hand to touch the image, then snatches his hand away, afraid he’ll smear it.

It’s his mother.

He doesn’t understand how Yusuf could do this; drawing his mother is one thing, but the accuracy of the drawing to Nicolo’s memory is astounding. The line of her cheekbones and the crinkles of her crows feet, the shape of her eyes set by happiness. The drift of hair over her shoulder is a little longer than his mother had it, and a little straighter, but other than that it is an almost perfect recreation. Down to the curl of her mouth, the small flash of teeth. Nicolo can practically hear her in the image, her eyebrows raised and surprised joy flashing in her eyes, as she says, “That’s a big one, Nicolo, good job!”

“How did you do this?” Nicolo asks, voice small.

“Do you remember when you told me what she looked like?” Yusuf asks. “When we were talking about Andromache’s mother?”

“Yes, I remember,” Nicolo replies, frustrated. “I told you she had brown hair and green eyes. Yusuf, how did you--” He peels his eyes off of the drawing that sends him straight to his childhood. “You even got her smile right.”

Yusuf presses his lips together in a fond little smirk. “I will tell you, but you must agree not to share my secret.”

“Yusuf.”

Yusuf scoots that much closer, tucking a hand under Nicolo’s jaw, thumb smoothing over his cheek. “I know how she smiles because I know how you smile. Because she’s your mother. And she lives in you, even if she’s been dead three hundred years. Even if you forget her to some small degree, she will stay with you. Here--” Yusuf touches the corner of Nicolo’s mouth. “And here--” His pointer swipes over Nicolo’s cheekbone. “And here.” He presses a thumb under Nicolo’s eye, and it comes away wet. He makes a small noise. “I was kidding about the tears of gratitude, Nico.”

The sketchbook almost falls off of Nicolo’s thighs in his urgency to pull Yusuf into a hug.

Yusuf returns the embrace with a huffing little laugh, arms wrapping around Nicolo’s waist and hauling him in close, the sketchbook folding closed between the press of their bodies, the beat of their hearts against each other.

“Thank you, Yusuf,” Nicolo murmurs into the crook of Yusuf’s neck, endlessly sincere. His fingers hook into Yusuf’s tunic, over his back, already pulled tight by the muscles there.

“Happy anniversary,” Yusuf responds cheerily. “To three hundred years, eh?”

“And three hundred more,” Nicolo reminds him.

“Fuck, Nicolo.” Yusuf leans back, hands lingering at his waist. He catches Nicolo’s eyes, his brows pulled together. “To three thousand more; Andromache doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Nicolo frowns, recalling Yusuf saying something of the sort in the hall. “What did she say?”

“What did she say?” Yusuf repeats thoughtfully. “I don’t remember-- some nonsense about us getting tired of each other.”

“Oh.” Nicolo does remember that. “I don’t think she meant it like that, Yusuf. And after all, she is rather the authority on how the relationships of immortals work.”

“The authority!” Yusuf repeats, mocking. “When Andromache kills a man with her bare hands and comes out the other side of the experience loving him, I will give her credence to the idea that she’s an authority over our relationship.”

“I didn’t say she was an authority over us. Just that she may understand better.”

“What, do you think she’s right?” Yusuf’s brow furrows, voice lowering. “That we shall grow tired of each other?”

“No,” Nicolo immediately insists, his desire to assure Yusuf strong and instinctual. He lets his hand slide to his shoulder, gripping there. “At least,” he admits on second thought, “I’ve never once felt anything to give me the impression that I will. But it may happen, Yusuf.”

To be completely honest, Nicolo can’t imagine such a thing. He’s woken up every morning for the past three hundred years of his life at Yusuf’s side, and he can’t even begin to understand what kind of drastic shift in his heart would inspire him to grow tired or restless of doing so. Of Yusuf’s hands, of his voice, of his glittering eyes and his loud, joyful laugh-- and the way he furrows his brow when he’s thoughtful, like he’s doing at Nicolo right now.

“Because Andromache says so? I think not,” Yusuf argues. “Andromache is wise, but she’s known us barely more than a hundred years. Her experience does not allow her to see to your heart, or to mine. I will love you forever, Nicolo.”

“Forever is a long time, Yusuf,” Nicolo responds, smiling.

“Well, I will,” Yusuf insists. “When we are twice as old as Andromache is today, and the memories of our childhoods, and our warring, and even our three hundred year anniversary will be nothing but dust, I will remember loving you with certainty-- and that will be because I’ll have done it every day of my life.”

Yusuf shrugs and presses closer, bowing his forehead to Nicolo’s. “And if we forget every bad time and every good time with it,” he murmurs, looking down, “I will not care; it will all wash away in the sands of time eventually, but I have no intent to be separated from you. I won't let memory or time or violence take you from me. I don’t care what Andromache says. The only thing that will end us is your word, Nicolo.”

Amused, Nicolo lets out a throaty little huh. “You will be waiting a long time for that, Yusuf. Maybe even forever.”

Yusuf grins at that, eyes flicking up, and Nicolo has that split second thought he always has --you’re hiding dimples under all that beard-- before Yusuf tilts his head up and kisses him, leaning forward with all the drunken weight of his body.

Nicolo catches Yusuf’s jaw in his hand, shoulders bunching up as he shifts so that Yusuf doesn't topple them both; tilts his head and grips Yusuf’s shoulder and kisses him back.

It is not, admittedly, their best kiss. But Nicolo’s found over the years that a kiss with Yusuf is a kiss with Yusuf, which is to say no matter how much their teeth clack or their mouths miss their mark, it is still Yusuf, so none of them are actually bad.

And Nicolo is distracted. Yusuf is one to spew pretty words whenever the mood takes him, but his aptitude for the spoken word even in the worst --or most drunken-- of times always catches Nicolo off guard; even three hundred years into their relationship.

Every day of my life, Yusuf had said, and Nicolo finds himself giddy and weightless at the idea. Every day of our lives, Nicolo thinks to himself, unable to fight off a smile as Yusuf pulls him in closer, a hand at his neck. Every day.

~

It is a fair while later --after Nicolo has pried Yusuf’s boots off, after the lantern light was blown out, and after they are both under the admittedly threadbare blanket-- that Nicolo lies propped up on his elbows on his side of the bed, admiring the drawing of his mother by moonlight. Yusuf lies on his back beside Nicolo, either asleep or drifting, arm thrown over his eyes and mouth pulled into a frown.

“Are you going to sleep tonight?” Yusuf asks groggily after some time, revealing himself to be awake. “Or must I compete with my own drawing for your attention?”

“You made a mistake giving me this,” Nicolo replies, closing the sketchbook and leaning over to set it carefully on the floor. “I will do nothing but admire it for eternity.”

With a huff, he settles under the blanket, facing Yusuf, crossing his arms to his chest. Yusuf responds with only a smile, and after the silence stretches for a moment, Nicolo adds, “I wish I could give you such peace in regards to your own mother.”

Yusuf drops the arm from his face, squinting sideways at Nicolo. “Pfft. You have already brought me more peace than any other living being on this earth. Give making me the happiest man alive a rest for a few minutes, Nicolo; you’ll give yourself a complex.” He rolls onto his side. “But also roll over. What are you doing lying all the way over there, anyways?”

“Giving myself a complex, apparently,” Nicolo grumbles, doing as he’s told and shuffling onto his side. Yusuf throws an arm over him from behind, snuggling forward and pulling Nicolo back in unison until they are pressed against each other, shoulders to thighs. 

“I am being truthful,” Yusuf murmurs after a moment, low and intimate and close, tired words slurring into each other. He yawns before butting his forehead gently against the back of Nicolo’s neck. “My mother-- I have many good memories of her, and some bad. I would like to forget some and cherish others, but in the end I will likely lose all or most of ‘em, as Andromache has. That’s just the truth of it all.” He yawns again, shifting his grip on Nicolo. “I could draw her if I wish, but I don’t know if even a thousand drawings will ease her memory. And losing memories is a simple trade-off of the life we live, even if we didn’t choose it. I may not keep my memories, but as long as I can keep you, I am at peace with it all.”

Nicolo considers that, tucking his own hands into his sides. As much as their immortality was not a choice-- it was nothing either Nicolo or Yusuf asked for or even really wanted, three hundred years ago, but it was gifted to them anyway. They didn’t ask for each other either, and yet Yusuf was given to Nicolo and vice versa in the same breath that their immortality was thrust upon them.

But of course, unlike the immortality, and unlike all the other positives and negative consequences that came with it, they did choose each other. They chose to put down their weapons. They chose to stay at each other’s side. They’ve chosen that every single day of the last three hundred years. Hopefully they will do so for the next three hundred -- thousand-- years.

He will lose his memories eventually, one day, one way or another. It is like Yusuf said: it is a simple trade-off of the life they live. 

But if it had been a choice-- well. Even the innocent comfort of his mother’s memory, of those late afternoons picking seashells-- those memories are not nothing to him, but if it ever came between keeping them and keeping Yusuf… the choice is obvious.

But there is no choice. The memories will fade one day whether he wants them to or not, whether Yusuf draws a thousand portraits of his mother or not.

Yusuf will not fade. Yusuf will be here. Yusuf has been here, for three hundred years.

Every day of our lives, Nicolo thinks, and smiles.

“You know,” he says quietly into the dark room. “You are a very wise man, Yusuf.”

“Don’t tell Quynh and Andromache,” Yusuf mumbles into Nicolo’s nape. “It will ruin my image.”

Nicolo snorts, smiles, and, eventually, falls asleep in Yusuf’s arms.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

How come ballet is sexist?

oh buddy. not only is ballet sexist but it also objectifies and fetishizes women (esp historically) and its also racist. but the racism part is a whole separate essay. 

ive got midterm brain rn so sadly no sources and this might be a little jumbled but my credits for this are that i am a dance and history major.

so back in i think it was like romantic era france? like mid 1800s. ballet was picking up speed. up until this point women were not really allowed in the social sphere it was like disrespectful i guess and they weren't really in the Public Eye but ballet changed that because it allowed women to 1. have a job and 2. be respected and all that shit. 

this seems good. however with most seemingly good things theres a lot of not good things.

there weren't really any female choreographers at this time. some of the more well known ballerinas did go on to choreograph and teach after they were done performing but the works by male choreographers are mainly the surviving ones. men also weren't really in ballets at this time cause it was “dishonorable” (except in denmark) so that created something of a double standard. men also created pointe specifically for women. it wasn't used the same as it was today at first, it was more like a little hat trick where the woman would go up on her toes for a second. and everyone would uwu. but marie taglioni who was a pretty well known ballerina in that era started doing pointe kinda like todays pointe because she was pushed to do so by her father, philipe taglioni, who just essentially wanted to get famous. and he kinda used his daughter for that. 

but anyway. we have men. notably slightly older men. choreographing and training young women ballet dancers. so ballet is pretty rooted in males choreographing for females. so its a mans vision on a womans body. which is not the best thing. 

also. the costumes. as time went on they gradually became more and more revealing but ballet had always been pushing what was socially acceptable in terms of dress. during the romantic era they showed off the girls ankles (ankles!!) with the tutu to show the feet and that was like. scandalous. and that was a males decision to do so. and then they kept shortening the skirt. 

additionally, male choreographers started favoring a specific body type. which is, also not great. they wanted the girls to look kinda long and twiggy and almost “alien” so the point where it became a trend to want to look like that. and today you still see choreographers favoring certain body types (very skinny, no breasts, lean muscles) to the point where a lot of the choreography can be a lot more difficult if you dont Have that body type. 

so eventually people started objectifying the more famous female ballet dancers, like there was a thing called “tagliomania” where everyone uwued the fuck over marie taglioni. some people in russia actually ate her pointe shoe. it was very similar to the way that celebrities today are ripped apart and judged on every little thing and their bodies are objectified and stuff. 

and then as the years went on all that stayed with ballet. its always been these like middle aged men training and choreographing on these very young girls. many ballet dancers today start as young as 16/17 and retire around 30 while its common for most choreographers and teachers to start at 30. every big ballet choreographer had their favorites and a lot of the time their other dancers would look as close to that person as possible. balanchine literally preferred training younger girls (with his famous baby ballerinas being between 12 and 14 when they were performing nationally with the ballet russes de monte carlo which gets into the whole fetishization thing) 

also think of all the big name ballets. how many of them have been choreographed by women? not many, if any. its acceptable for the women to portray the mans vision but its not acceptable for women to choreograph their own stuff and when they do they are usually met with backlash. 

and then theres just class in general. i take it most of you have never been to a ballet class but there is a lot of touching. the teachers will come over and move your body around to correct you. and youre usually only wearing a leotard and tights. male and female teachers do this to all of their students. and its not always like, just touch your arm or something like sometimes their hands will be on your ass or your chest or your inner leg. same goes for choreography. i was partnering with a guy once and i had to essentially have my face on his crotch for a few seconds. he was excited about that. it was weird. 

and also like. you dont really have a say in not doing that stuff cause. if you won't theres 10 people willing to take your place. so dance very quickly strips you of your modesty. i dont find it weird cause ive been doing it since i was 3 and have become pretty desensitized but. 

and then theres just movements in general. female ballet dancers are expected to be good at turns mainly and pointe. my body is not built for that. i am much better at jumps. but since i go to class with mostly girls we work more on turns than jumps. sometimes if there are combined classes with males and females they will make the males do separate jumping combinations that the girls are not allowed to do. i want to do big fun jumps :/

so anyway theres a lot of issues with ballet. its very elitist, very sexist and there body objectification and fetishization. im sorry i couldn't go into more detail for you right now but i have a paper to finish