#i think the regular good route will be 'die the hero'

[theslyvoid9]

YOU DIDNT REBLOG IT BUT FUCK YOU !!!!!!!!!

3, 4, 18, 29, 31

FOR KEIHO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

AUGH WHAT THE HELL THATS ILLEGAL!!! BUT FINE I WILL TALK ABOUT KEIHO FUCK YOU!!!! heres the question list for anyone curious

for those wondering Keiho is my FFXIV Au Ra character who i love dearly :3

(hes usually more happy i just like this doodle jskdnf)

putting the actual response under read more because man it got long ^_^

also in the game i just finished stormblood so this guys story is still ongoing for me dkjfng (theres 3 more expansion packs, as of right now, for me to do)

okay hi to anyone reading this o/

3. weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?Keihos current weapon of choice is a lance! Being a lancer/dragoon class so big pointy stick sdjkdnsf.

The lore reason for Keiho going that route when becoming an adventurer i feel is mainly.. he was most used to holding lance like weapons and tools and felt it was the most comfortable way for him to get his journey started.

While the main stuff for his backstory before the beginning of the game is still kinda cooking for me, i do think he came from a smaller village kinda away from everything so they didn't have a lot of fancy resources to go around for a ton of swords or anything so the main weapons for hunting were lances. But he most likely did some spear fishing and stuff with it as well and is used to farm tools like pitchforks and hoes and stuff so again more used to lance like tools than anything else! But maybe he'll change that in the future and try different weapons now that he's got the adventure ball going!

(the none lore reason is i just liked the lance class the most and i havent bothered to try out any other class right now)

4. how crafty/resourceful are they?

i'd say they get by well enough! He's not some mastermind who's going to outsmart and trap supervillains left and right....and he definitely has his dumb moments. But he has his cleaver moments as well, def can sneak by, deceive and ambush pretty well against other regular, non super genius, folk. And can contribute in plannings if needed for battles and such.

But i do feel his resourcefulness comes out best in survival situations, he knows how to navigate the wilderness pretty well, knows how to hunt and make the most of food to make it last as long as possible and overall just knows how to get out and not die when dropped in the middle of the woods. Or build a sort of camp/housing if for whatever reason he wants to stay out there longer.

So not really some trap guy and not going to pull some crazy stunts during fights but can survive solo out in the wilderness pretty okay.

With this he is pretty lost in big cities on the other hand sjhbdnfds (me making a lore reason to explain why im always lost in limsa lominsa B) )

18. their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?

HMMMM now this is a rather nuanced answer considering... he is the warrior of light...Hero of Eorzea etc etc... so he has his actual beliefs, the thing he preaches as a warrior people look up to and the things he believes as a warrior whos seen some of the worst the world has to offer.

Overall he fights for a world where people dont have a need to lie, steal or kill and if pressured for a black and white answer he'd say those things are bad. BUT he gets why certain people dont have any other option besides lying or stealing or even killing and doing any of those things for a valid reason isn't going to lower Keihos opinion of someone even by a bit. No "there must've been another way" or "you should've toughed it out" nope he gets that sometimes... you just gotta do what you gotta do. If anything it just makes Keiho more motivated to be a good hero seeing what someone was pushed to do just to get by. So overall he looks at each case rather individually... after all he as a hero has done all of those things for the greater good so it be rather hypocritical of him sdjkfndjsk

He also gets that while some people have a valid reason...it isn't always a good reason to do sth like killing so again... just focuses on getting as much info and then makes a choice.

If anyone tries to ask what his opinion on white lies are he just completely avoids the topic saying sth like "arent there more pressing matters" he just really doesn't have the time to form opinions on whether white lies make someone inherently evil or good skjndf

29. are they associated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?

Hmm personally i haven't really put a lot of thought into what element Keiho could be sdjknf BUT in game he does have the title of "Warrior of light" so i guess i tend to associate him with light, and Keiho being a Raen Au Ra (that just meaning he has light scales instead of dark scales like the Xaela Au Ra) who believe they are descendants of Dawn Father just makes the light connection more strong huh xD

And i guess i do tend to link him with crystals due to his scales reminding me of that and him having several interactions and a blessing from the Mothercrystal goddess

so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ personally haven't thought about it but theres some building blocks there from the game

31. do they like receiving gifts? giving gifts? what is their ideal gift?

Oh you chose this one specifically after that loredump i did on you huh

Okay lets take these one by one, receiving gift

Maybe back before their adventure days he would've like the occasional gift, never really liked anything to extravagant because ough you didn't need to, but small stuff like food or something handmade or some random material he needed, perfect. But after he became a hero and with every title he just.... stopped enjoying it, at some points just despises gifts all together, but not in the " i receive them so much" or the "i'm too good for these gifts" but more in the "hey i dont need nor deserve this :(( keep it to yourself you need it more :( " way. Along the way tho he also develops a weird "if i say no to a gift i'm being incredibly rude" mentality so that's when he gets super weird with gifts and wants to say "no, they dont need to go through all the effort for a gift for lil ol' me" but also the voice in the back being like if you refuse you're being rude!! so he just... puts on his hero persona and accepts it with grace.. so no one even really knows what kind of turmoil a simple loaf of bread just caused him dhsgfjukd and its quite literally nearly impossible to pry an answer out of him if you ever asked what he'd like for a gift, because the idea of requesting anything?!?!?! is just too much and he avoids the topic like the plague. quite literally need to corner him for a WHILE to get any sort of vague answer

my boy is stable :)

Giving gifts

He most likely won't have any sort of weird relationship with giving gifts but i honestly dont think he gifts a lot, he's more of a i'll walk to the ends of the earth for you kinda guy to his loved ones. But the most something like a gift i feel is he'll make food occasionally without being asked or he might pick up something from stores or similar places if someone mentioned it. If he was still just a civilian he'd make some crafts here and there as well (woodwork, jewellery etc etc). But with being a hero he most likely doesn't have a lot of time or energy for those sorts of things, and most likely mentally he isn't really in a stable place rn to be doing anything like that either way, but in the future when his mentality regarding being a hero improves he'll def be making some handcrafted stuff for his friends!

Ideal gift

This is a tough one considering all the above about him not even really wanting gifts sjkdlnmfk but

Before the adventure days, it probably would've been something really simple, like some tasty food or some rare material for personal projects or even just something handcrafted! something to show the other cared enough to really think what he'd like kinda thing

And that mentality does stay a bit for post adventurer keiho! He'd avoid the topic but honestly... getting anything non adventure related, just for keiho to have after all the adventure gear has been put away for the day like again some good food or a nice shirt or just...anything again to show that they care about keiho the guy and not keiho the adventurer who probably needs new chainmail under his armour. He gets something from the heart and he is going to cry guranteed

Anddd with that i have finally finished responding to this jksbdnfjhks

if anyone made it this far congrats! you get a bonus keiho

[kurokoros]

Do you really think Steve will die? I want to stay positive, but you all make me physically sick with those posts. Death wouldn't be a satisfying end to his arc even if he dies a hero. Plus the whole Dustin grieving storyline could prevent Steve from dying because it's just too much and Dustin would do anything to protect him, so full circle moment. Idk I just don't want to see him dead and still hold on to the positives :/

Okay, so I'm going to start off by saying I in no way want Steve Harrington to die, and I'll be very disappointed if the writers go that route. That being said, I do think there's a distinct chance that if any characters are killed off in S5, it'll be Steve. S5 isn't even filming yet, so it's way too early to seriously speculate on who might die. No one can see death flags until the season is airing. Now, as a writer myself, and someone that's taken screenwriting classes, there are a few reasons that I think it would make more sense for Steve to die than other characters, namely: Steve is the perfect blend of fan favorite character and combatant/protector. This doesn't mean I actually think he'll die, it's all just speculation and meta.

Steve is very well loved by the fandom. A lot of the characters in Stranger Things are very well loved, but not all character deaths are created equal. I believe that, of the main characters, Steve's death would have the most potential to make the audience and the other characters grieve. I could do a bunch of analysis here, but I won't, all we need to know if that Steve's death would be extremely upsetting to fans of the show and would at the very least would devastate characters like Robin, Dustin, Nancy, and probably Max, Lucas, and Erica as well. Being a fan favorite automatically has setup for killing a character for an emotional moment, but it's also the final season of the series, so the Duffers wouldn't have anything to lose or risk by killing off Steve. Personally, I think Eddie's death had more emotional weight than it deserved to, and the scene would have made more sense if it was Dustin and Steve instead. To me, it seemed like they wanted to kill Steve in S4, but chickened out do to the potential of backlash. Same with the writers choosing to not kill Max.

On top of that, Steve is one of the characters that put themselves in harms way on a regular basis. Steve, Hopper, El, and Nancy are the series combatant characters. Of those four, I can't see the writers killing Nancy, and Hopper and El have already received fake out deaths. I could see El maybe dying in the final confrontation with Vecna (or whoever the final boss ends up being) because narratively the Upside Down and everything supernatural has to disappear for the series to have a neat ending, but I also think killing El off would be extremely cruel, so she'll probably just lose her powers again, if anything. ANYWAY. Steve is the melee fighter that's injured every season, with those injuries increasing in severity. S1 he's in a fistfight that he's able to walk away from. S2 he's in a brawl that leaves him unconscious. S3 he's tortured by Russian soldiers. S4 he's mauled by monsters. The only way to take things up a notch would by outright killing Steve or mutilating him in a way that can't be healed or just forgotten about in the next episode.

I also think that narratively the Duffers have no where for Steve to go, purely by their own writing faults. The Duffers aren't very good at fleshing out characters beyond their debut, so a lot of characters are just there with nothing to do. Steve doesn't really have a plot of his own, and the writers don't know what to do with him aside from romantic plotlines and continually rehashing the fact that he was an asshole in high school. This could be a reason to kill him off, but it wouldn't be very good from a writing sense. You don't kill off a character unless it provides an important beat in the story, or the character has had an otherwise complete and satisfying character arc.

Steve's death wouldn't be closure to his arc. The narrative has repeatedly punished him enough for being a jock and an asshole. And, as you said, it would be like rehashing Eddie's death in terms of how it would affect Dustin. Personally, that would deter me from killing off Steve, but I haven't been happy with the Duffers' writing since like mid-S2, so I keep my expectations low.

TLDR: I don't know if Steve will die. It depends on if the Duffers want to kill any main characters in the final season. If that's the route they choose to go, I think Steve could be a contender for character deaths just based on the fact that he's one of the series primary fighters. And if Steve does die, you'll be getting plenty of fix-it fics in your future.

[fancoloredglasses]

[RERUN] 7 Little Superheroes (a good ol’ fashioned...kidnapping mystery?)

[All images are owned by Marvel Disney. Please don’t sue me]

This is a review that suffers from some serious “wall of text” issues, in that there’s not a SINGLE image or video clip from the episode save the title screen! Well, we’re about to fix that! If you wish to slog through what is essentially a book report, you can do so here.

I’m sure most of you have heard/seen a variant of the “Ten Little Indians” trope in which someone invites a group to a secluded area with no chance of escape, then composes a cryptic poem about the means in which every one of them will die, one by one. In fact, Rooster Teeth did one of these in which they “killed off”  most of their executives.

Anyway, the writers of Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends thought this would be a great story to adapt. Just three problems...

1. The “Spider Friends” were just three. No worries, we’ll just bring in 7 guest heroes!

2. The show is only half an hour long (minus commercials and credits, so more like 20 minutes) No problem, we’ll cut the cast to 7 total.

3. That damn issue with violence on kids’ TV, plus do we really wanna kill off heroes like Captain America? Ummmm...right...they’ll just be...captured?

The villain of the episode is the Chameleon. I’d never heard of him before or since viewing the episode, but a quick Wikipedia search says he is the half-brother to Kraven the Hunter and a master of disguise (given his name, that makes sense) His voice seemed familiar, so a quick IMDb search revealed the actor also voiced Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain, from the Rankin-Bass Animation production of The Hobbit (a much better version than Peter Jackson’s production as it was more cohesive while being less than 20% as long, but I digress...)

If you would like to watch the episode, Disney+ has your hookup.

The episode begins with the Chameleon spouting the first lines of the poem...

7 Little Superheroes vanish one by one...7 Little Superheroes, soon there will be none!

We switch to Spider-Man swinging through New York, when he encounters a letter addressed to him along his patrol route (is he that predictable? Why hasn’t anyone set a booby trap on one of his regular perches?) inviting him to Wolf Island Mansion for some sort of gathering (not in the least suspicious...especially since Iceman and Firestar have similar invites...seriously, booby traps!)

Peter informs Aunt May that the three of them are going to a house party. Aunt May decides to invite their dog Ms. Lion along as well. Peter objects, but do you really think he could say no to Aunt May?

When the heroes reach Wolf Island, Iceman’s ice slide accidentally covers the lake that Prince Namor of Atlantis, the Sub-Mariner (hero #4) was swimming in. Iceman apologizes, but Namor insults them and flies off (yes, the undersea prince can fly. Don’t ask me, I just report this stuff!)

Upon entering the mansion, the group encounters the Sorcerer Supreme, Doctor Strange (hero #5), Captain America (#6), and Shanna the Jungle Queen (who? I mean #7)

[NOTE: the comic version is Shanna the She-Devil, but the writers understandably changed her name for the episode...I mean, no sense pissing off the parents! Either way, I’ve never heard of her...]

The Chameleon makes his presence (and intentions) known. This pisses off Namor (what doesn’t?) and he decides to leave...

...only to run into a force field (bet that pissed him off too) which covers the mansion, trapping everyone on the grounds! Then we get our first clue as to who’s on the chopping block...

7 Little Superheroes in quite a fix...One will meet fire, and then there will be six!

The group deduces that their “host” is the Chameleon, and that he very well could be disguising himself as any of them! (I thought he just disguised himself. Can he mimic powers too?)

Namor (no doubt in the most pissed off way possible) decides it’s best to work alone as he can’t trust appearances. (know what Namor is an anagram for? Mor...an? hmmm, doesn’t quite work, but you get my point)

(Thanks to Imperius Wrecked)

You’d think he’d be able to smell the difference between water and alcohol...)

Namor attempts to fly over the pool to the exit...

...but the Chameleon ignites the alcohol. The heat further weakens Namor and he falls into the fiery pool!

Meanwhile, Spider-Man is searching on the roof of the mansion, but falls into a trap panel (on the outside of the building? The Chameleon must have a hell of an issue with squirrels and raccoons getting in...), allowing the Chameleon to assume the web-head’s identity.

Let’s check in with Iceman and Captain America out on the grounds, shall we?

6 Little Superheroes trying to stay alive...One will step into quicksand, and then there will be five!

Seems a bit specific, don’t ya think? I mean, all you have to do is stay off the ground, right?

Iceman falls prey to a snare trap that suspends him about 10 feet off the ground. Cap rushes to his aid...

...only to catch a tripwire of his own, sending flying barbs his way. They’re easily blocked by his shield, but there are a lot of ‘em. “Spider-Man” arrives on the scene, suggesting Cap dive into a nearby pond until the barbs stop flying. (three guesses what the “pond” actually is...)

Captain Gullible dives in, and is pulled down by the quicksand. Iceman freezes the rope to free himself (why didn’t he do that before?) and is about to freeze the pond to save Cap, but “Spider-Man” offers to use his webbing to pull him out instead, only the webbing doesn’t stick to Cap and he sinks below the surface...

...as “Spider-Man” swings away, chuckling menacingly as Ms. Lion snarls at him.

Firestar and Doctor Strange arrive, and Firestar deduces that it must have been the Chameleon. The three follow Ms. Lion back to the mansion...

...where we see Spider-Man finally freeing himself from the trap panel by climbing down the flue (seriously, how does the Chameleon not have a problem with woodland animals invading his home?) just in time for Iceman to hit him hard with a blast of frozen mistaken identity.

The group quickly realizes their error when Ms. Lion shows concern for Spidey.

Let’s check in on Shanna the She-Devil Jungle Queen. She has climbed a nearby spire to get a view of the surroundings. I’m sure the view is impressive, but instead of getting your breath taken away by it...

...shouldn’t you be watching the Chameleon setting off the explosions in the very spire you’re standing on? (he does get around, doesn’t he?) Shanna falls into a pit (what? no poem?), but not before she sends a telepathic distress call (wait, she can do that? I honestly don’t know, as I’ve never heard of her) to Doctor Strange. The Spider Friends and Strange rush to her aid.

Unfortunately, by the time they arrive, the Chameleon has changed into Shanna. (This is beyond being a quick-change artist. This is shape-shifting!)

“Shanna” then jumps down and hangs off of a nearly ledge (you’d think someone with Shanna’s agility could get herself out of that predicament) as the group approaches. “Shanna” falls just in time for Spider-Man to swing in to catch her.

The group might have been fooled if not for Ms. Lion not liking her (who knew cartoon dogs were such excellent judges of character?), so the now-revealed Chameleon takes his revenge...

...by opening a trap door under Ms. Lion! Fortunately, Spider-Man grabs her before she falls.

The group chases “Shanna” into a maze of caves (pretty sure you can guess what happens here) The Chameleon hides as Firestar flies by, then transforms into her.

5 Little Superheroes want to know the score? One will run into herself, and then there will be four!

First off, shouldn’t that be “4 Little Superheroes”, since he already took out Shanna? Second, it’s now pretty apparent (well, a 50/50 chance) to the group who the next victim will be (unless the Chameleon plans on targeting Ms. Lion)

Fortunately, the group guesses correctly (or have they forgotten about Shanna?) and run after Firestar, who was scouting ahead, (have these people not learned to not let ANYONE out of their sight when there’s a shape-shifter around?!) but not fast enough...

...as Firestar encounters “Firestar”, who blasts her with freezing air, incapacitating her as she falls down a trap door!

Meanwhile, Shanna manages to free herself from the rubble (guess the count was right after all) and goes looking for the group (pretty sure we all know what’s about to happen...)

“Firestar” starts a recording as he joins the group, making everyone think he’s the real deal.

4 Little Superheroes, scared as can be...A demon will devour one, and then there will be three!

Right on cue, a robotic “demon” shows up to attack the group. Shanna chooses this moment to find the group, distracting them long enough for the demon to blast the group, sending everyone except Doctor Strange flying...

...then he eats Strange! Spidey deduces “Firestar” is not who he says he is, so the Chameleon runs off.

3 Little Superheroes, racing to pursue...But one will fall right off the bridge, and then there will be two!

In the middle of the Chameleon’s poem, he starts a tremor as Shanna falls (heh) behind. Spider-Man tries to web her...

...but she falls into the chasm below before the web reaches her! (not sure why he couldn’t try again...)

So with just the wall crawler and Iceman left, things seem grim. In desperation, the pair heads outside so Iceman can try to break through the force field again.

2 Little Superheroes out in the sun...the Iceman will be melted, and now there is but one!

Once again, the Chameleon strikes before he finishes speaking...

...this time with a heat ray that nullifies his ice powers, then a tractor beam to draw him back into the mansion!

[Gonna hit the pause button and go back 41 years to when I first saw the episode up to this point. I honestly was shocked that the show would kill off Captain America and Doctor Strange (I had no clue who Shanna was and, to be honest, Namor was being a complete ass and deserved what he got), but in both Iceman’s and Firestar’s cases, their fates were a bit more benign as Firestar was being incapacitated by icy jets of air (so essentially tortured instead of killed, then?) and Iceman was captured rather than given a death scene. I guessed this was because they had “star power” immunity and would eventually be rescued (I mean, they wouldn’t kill the title characters, right? Right?) Yes, now I know how things worked better, but my younger self...

Pause over, let’s resume]

It seems that Iceman and Firestar are imprisoned next to each other, so the Chameleon tricks them into using their powers on one another.

Meanwhile, web-head has re-entered the mansion. One rotating wall later, he falls into a web (ironic)

1 Little Superhero eaten to the bone...Leaving myself, the super super villain, all by myself alone!

A giant robotic spider comes across the web, hoping for a bit of cannibalism (of a sort, I guess...) Spidey discovers the “web” is made of electrical cables...

...so tears the end from one and jabs it into the spider, shorting it out with a jolt of deus ex supershit.

Escaping the room, he finds a room where all six “victims” are alive. (Cap, Strange, and Shanna are imprisoned, while Namor, Iceman, and Firestar are incapacitated by their weaknesses)

That’s when the Chameleon announces he has rigged the island with enough explosives to level it!

OK, the show time counter is at 21:21...let’s see if the bomb can be defused by 22:21.

[While we’re on the subject of suspension of disbelief, how the hell did the Chameleon get Namor out of the fire, Cap out of the quicksand, and Shanna out of the abyss...not to mention moving Iceman and Firestar from their cells to this chamber...when he has been sticking close to the heroes or in his control room the entire episode? Strange was obviously transported there by the robotic demon, but how did the Chameleon keep him from casting spells?

Soapbox over, now for the thrilling conclusion!]

First, Spidey redirects the heat lamp drying out Namor onto the block of ice imprisoning Firestar (wouldn’t she have suffocated by now?), with the melt flowing around Namor, reviving him, and Iceman, dousing his flaming cage. (29 seconds left according to the show time counter...) Namor then destroys the generator near the cage (guess it was electrified...? That explains why Cap wouldn’t just use his strength to bend the bars. 9 seconds to go, by the way...)

The Chameleon takes off in his helicopter (22:34; Everyone’s dead, including the Chameleon) and deactivates the force field. Doctor Strange magics everyone to the roof...

...and Spidey shoots a web onto the chopper, pulling himself up and inside. (Nice to know the Chameleon is polite enough to let the authorities know what vehicle he’s in)

Meanwhile, the timer is obviously running slow as it’s reading T-minus 20 seconds one minute and 49 seconds after the one minute timer started. (did you follow that?)

We switch back to the chopper where Spidey has finished tying up the Chameleon with webbing. (obviously the Chameleon got beat up off-camera where no parents could object) Spidey then grabs a megaphone and calls to the others.

7 Little Superheroes, get together gang...Swing on my spider-line cuz there’s gonna be a bang!

(No shit! It should have happened over a minute ago!)

The heroes fly off, abandoning poor Ms. Lion!

(The timer should have gone off a minute and sixteen seconds ago. The Chameleon really needs to not skimp on his timers next time) Firestar realizes they forgot the dog.

Spidey takes aim and shoots a line, snaring Ms. Lion and pulling her to safely as the explosives go off a minute and thirty-five seconds late!

The web-slinger give Ms. Lion the props she deserves for giving the heroes an unexpected edge as we fade out.

I really wonder what this tale would look like today with (limited) violence being allowed in televised animated programming. While Marvel obviously wouldn’t kill anyone, they could put the heroes in dire peril enough to take them out of action without seeming as contrived.

[inbarfink]

A lot of fans talk about how the Weird Route in Deltarune Chapter 2 feels even more “off” than the Murder Route in Undertale. And I think a big factor of this is a relative lack of consequences.

When you go down the Murder Route in Undertale, the game does basically whatever it can to punish you for it. A lot of the game’s charm and joy is replaced by an overbearingly creepy tone, the game’s iconic music is distorted and slowed-down, all the characters treat you like the despicable spree killer you are, and then they die horribly at your hands, the fights that aren’t one-hit-kills are absurdly hard and the whole thing ends on a massive downer that rips away your chance at getting a happy ending. Ever.

And some of this stuff is present in the Weird Route of Deltarune Chapter 2: the music is twisted and you do lose a lot of puzzles and side-gags and a lot of the fun tone, and you do get a few harder fights but….. a lot of the specifically narrative punishments are notably absence.

You don’t gain a reputation as an irredeemable killer nobody likes. The only people who know what you have done are Kris (who can’t speak against you and might even feel kinda culpable), Noelle (who has been emotionally manipulated into being your loyal killing machine), Spamton (who was willingly encouraging the horrors of the Route and doesn’t really have the moral high ground) and Berdly (who is fucking dead). Ralsei, Susie, Queen, Lancer and so on are completely oblivious to what has transpired and save for some subtle feeling that something isn’t quite right - so they still treat you as their good friend and a hero.

Even after being ‘locked’ into the Route by turning Berdly into frozen chicken, you can start sparing enemies in the Mansion. The Castle Town Epilogue doesn’t treat it any different than a regular run where you Lost a couple of Cyber City enemies. And where the hard bosses in Undertale where designed to emphasis the idea that they’re brave heroes and you’re a despicable villain… the main boss of the Weird Route is Spamton, who, again, does not have the moral high ground in this situation. Berdly is the closest thing to a heroic boss to stand against you, and he’s not quite in the same league as Sans or Undyne the Undying.

There is no True Hero that comes to stop you, only a backstabbing opportunist and a kid way over his head. You have fashioned two teens into tools for your murderous will and neither of them really become a threat to you. No one looks at you with the hatred and disgust worthy of the horrible deeds you have done.

You have become above consequences and that just feels deeply wrong.

And it’s not even a matter of fairness or justice, really. The Ultimate Punishment in Undertale screws over the other characters a lot more than it screws you over. I mean, they’re the ones who are gonna get murdered. But even so, even the fact that something bad does happens to you makes it feel less Wrong, less Off, than the Weird Route.

[askthejourneysgang]

To Ash, (+Goh, +Chloe)

I don’t how you have stayed alive (relatively) for almost a full year with all these crazy disasters back to back. Yes, I know you died like five times and got brought back which is another thing entirely... Anyway. There is a dimension-hopping therapy group for heroes like us. We include all kinds of different people, some Serenas will go the champion route while a Lillie did the island challenge in an Ashless universe. Most tend to have caught their regions’ Mythical/Legendary Pokemon so you could have so many unique battle opportunities.

An invite should be sent to you after the Masters Eight Tournament finale. Heads up, we try not to do the “I was hurt worse/went through more pain” thing cause we’ve all suffered :,). You can talk to people resurrected to continue giving you the world. Or the similar theme of adults not being able to step up to help us when we need it. Word of advice never push anybody in battling with the word “Nuzlocke” on their nametag. Their worlds are where Pokemon die in what would be regular battles. Sometimes it is even only just them suffering from the Nuzlocke Curse.

The basics are: Hoenn gets environmentally messed up causing mass Pokemon migration, Unova gets caught in a political war in which the possibility of Plasma being right pops up once in a Blue Moon, Kalos deals with the ultimate weapon always destroying Geosenge Town, Alola tends to sort itself out since Lusamine is the only one kidnapped by Nihilego or the Ultra Recon Squad handles Necrozma, Galar is precarious with Enternatus needing to be distracted long enough for the legendary wolves to show, and lastly Kanto-Johto only ever gets truly bad when Giovanni is far more greedy than usual. We had to take down the dimension-hopping Rocket Boss a while back.

Do not try to catch the Mystery Dungeon universes’ heroes. Pokeballs affect them weirdly and they can dodge quite well from having to be in direct battle against smart wild Pokemon. Not to mention most of them were human at one point so it’s kinda insensitive to capture them when they still speak English/Common. Took a collab between Sophocleses Clemonts and other technology gifted to allow them the choice of temporarily changing back to human. They will fight you on equal terms if angered.

—Champion Wally, Mega-Timeline FC Chosen of Latios.

P.S- Nametags will be distributed to you. Any titles like Champion/Ranger/Coordinator/Trainer/Type Specialist will accompany your name. FC means first contact, so I was the first one contacted from my timeline. Which Legend you have been mainly chosen by goes next.

Ash: Ooh! Seems interesting. I think I'll join 😌

Goh: A therapy group? Hmm...

Chloe: I think you just need regular therapy, not, you know... five-times deceased immortal chosen one therapy

Goh: True... but I hope you get some good help there, Ash. I know you've needed something like this for a long time, even if you never liked showing that side of you to us

Ash: Don't worry, my scone! I'm sure it will goh great and I totally won't get roped into some multiverse-spanning adventure to save all of existence 🤞

[greenlikethesea]

Hiiiiiii I am here in reference to your previous post for a director’s commentary on old wives tales???? Like as much or as little of it as you want, lol, I love Fair Ithilien and I LOVE listening to you and sparklyslug talk about the conception and writing of the series!!!! And old wives takes was SO GOOD I literally think about it all. The. Time.

hello my friend! happy to answer! <3 @sparklyslug please feel free to tag in at any point!!! this turned into a novel, sorry y'all --

more about erica's character will be expanded upon as we work on the series more, but i definitely am happy to tell you a few things that i had in mind as i was writing old wives' tales:

i absolutely love the sinclairs as a family and i love erica especially. i love this girl who is all hard edges where lucas is softness and sensitivity, the head where lucas is the heart. she and steve are probably canonically the most genre savvy of the bunch, built to be the final girl.

eddie is her fucking achilles heel.

she's about thirteen when she realizes that the bubbling feeling in her stomach when he smiles at her is not just the need to one-up him, not just the need to prove that she's the best, but another thing entirely -- the thrill of seeing slivers of skin, his tattoos that are so dark against his pale skin. i think she tells him, after steve's wedding when dancing with him felt like floating somewhere in space, but before eddie leaves for california, in the fall of 1989. she knows it'll never go anywhere, knows that it's doomed, thinks he's going to be mean because that's the rapport they have. ribbing, teasing. he's the big brother (sort of, kind of, lucas is like fucking annoying and screams like a girl and erica wants to drown in eddie's eyes, gross, disgusting) and she's the kid sister.

he lets her down so gently. takes her hand and looks directly into her eyes with those fucking cow eyes that make her want to die and speaks so softly. thank you for telling me. it takes a lot of guts to say something like that. and it's an honor. i guess i ought to tell you something too, right? in exchange. a lord for a lady. he takes her out for milkshakes, and they talk for hours, and she finds out why he's never had a girlfriend, why he's never even looked at a girl in the whole time she's known him.

"does lucas know?" she asks.

he shakes his head. "i'll tell him eventually, probably. but i think you deserve absolutes."

erica, after everything in hawkins, goes the nancy wheeler route of getting some physical distance between herself and the utter mess that was her time growing up in indiana (with both eddie and max's encouragement -- max, who is her fucking hero and her favorite of all of lucas' girlfriends, even after all these years). she gets a full ride to spelman college in atlanta (sue sinclair went there, and she wants to form friendships with other fierce, whip smart, assertive young Black women). she outgrows her parents' more conservative leanings, gets more than a little radical left, kisses a girl or two just to make sure she's straight (she is, and she's a little bummed about it, to be perfectly honest). loses her virginity to a guy from georgia state she met while organizing a protest against planned public transit cuts and, for some reason that she cannot fathom, calls steve's house phone at 2am to tell him. as mentioned, he takes it very well; they do not speak of it again not because he's embarrassed, but because she's mortified at how well he takes it. while she's a little bit closer to eddie than she is to steve (and steve's hot, anyone who is remotely attracted to men would agree), she and steve still keep in fairly regular contact.

charles, sue, and lucas all urge her to take a break after undergrad, but nope, erica has never done anything by half, so she goes to emory. she meets antonio, a pretentious, snotty rich boy from a prominent marietta family at a first year mixer and it's loathing at first sight -- so naturally, they have all of their classes together. it's very much a beatrice and benedick situation in which, of course, they're madly in love with each other and everyone in their cohort is placing bets on when they're just gonna do the damn thing already. ugh, so annoying.

eddie and erica stay really close. in the whole eddie and steve song and dance, erica mostly stays the fuck out of it. she likes megan, thinks she's smart and funny and interesting, but she clocks the resemblance between her and eddie immediately, and is one of the first people to pick up on things going south. while outwardly she's switzerland, she's a sucker for the long game, and is very much gunning for everyone involved in that situation to have something, like, remotely resembling what she and antonio have.

erica and antonio have a very long engagement while they both establish their careers in gary -- antonio is estranged from his parents and gets a placement there and erica figures it'd be good to be closer to her family anyway. they tie the knot in april 2003, and their son, leon edward powers (and oh, how eddie cried!) is born on august 14, 2008, steve's 42nd birthday.

(when they finally get married, steve and eddie have been together for a little over a year. she's having a moment by herself, taking a breather from the frankly exhausting rigamarole of greeting every single person she's ever met. eddie gently taps her on the shoulder. "right behind you. may i have this dance?"

and god, in another life, in another world, in some other dimension that isn't the one crawling with eldritch abominations -- but just a fantasy, really, so grateful it isn't real -- he would be her husband. she's floated there from time to time over the years, a safe dream in her mind when things got tough in school, at work, in the raw moments just after fights with antonio, but she's happy to leave it behind.

"you snagged a good one, littlest sinclair," eddie says, pressing a kiss against her forehead. embarrassment and joy duke it out inside her, but she kicks that mortification to the curb for just this moment. she can have feelings. her husband, her wonderful, impossible husband, who is currently arm wrestling lucas over by the dessert table, taught her that. but eddie planted that seed, the suggestion that she deserves to be loved exactly as she is, prickly and strange and a little raw, but wholly worth it.

"yeah," she says. she did.)

[stxleslyds]

WHAT IS WITH DC AND TEAMING JASON WITH CHILDREN?

Ever since that weird event in Rebirth where Jason taught children to be the next villain/anti-heroes I have always felt like that concept is completely out of place in a Jason Todd/Red Hood book.

This is not me complaining about kids like Tyler, because Tyler was a kid that Jason found in a home where his mother appeared to have overdosed. Jason took him in because he didn’t trust the authorities with his safety and that’s very in character for him. I also liked how he acted with Tyler, he is an impressionable little kid and he found himself “making friends” with the Red Hood, I guess that meeting a hero/vigilante is something extremely exciting so I was fine with that.

Where I drew the line was with the idea of Jason taking in or adopting Tyler, that seemed like a crazy idea and I still can’t believe that some people wanted that. Tyler had a mother that was recovering, Jason would never take a child away from their mother if that person can recover from whatever they went through.

Another reason as to why I think Jason couldn’t have taken in/adopted Tyler is because what is Jason going to do with a child? I know it adds to the adorable factor and to the fact that Jason is a good man but Tyler (or any child) isn’t the same as Bizarro. I think many people confuse the two ‘concepts’ because while Bizarro used to have the mind of a child he still wasn’t, he had the body of a man and the power levels of Superman, then he actually got smart and all that. But the thing is that a child isn’t like Bizarro, a child has needs and obligations, he would have to go to school, go to regular check-ups and he would also need company. I don’t think Jason can provide him that, at least not at the levels that a child really needs or at the levels to keep a child away from the hero/vigilante world.

Tyler is a child and I honestly don’t think that Jason had his life in enough control for him to actually take care of him if his mother couldn’t do it for herself. So, as I said in my reviews for Urban Legends: Cheer, the only outcome that was going to be happy and good for Tyler was that his mother recovered and that they were given housing and funds to rebuild their life, and that’s what happened and I am really happy about it.

Now, what I really want to say is that to me (this is the way I think, you can have another opinion) Jason would never train/teach/mentor a minor into being a hero/vigilante. This man would rather die again than be responsible for the death or injury of a child that was introduced to the vigilante lifestyle by him (or anyone else).

Jason Todd DIED when he was fifteen and was working as Robin.

Jason Todd was rightfully mad at Bruce for working with another child after his death happened.

Jason Todd wouldn’t want any more children to be introduced to this lifestyle.

So, those panels I have seen of Jason offering training to Clownhunter so they, as a team, can take down Joker really makes me wonder if DC really understands Jason’s character.

Because it is troubling, DC has blamed Jason (at the time a fifteen-year-old) time and time again for his own death. So, if you go for any of these routes, these being: Jason wasn’t to blame for his own death (truth) or Jason was to blame for his own death (false), then why on the mighty multiverse would Jason risk a child’s safety?!

I do not understand DC’s thought process, I really don’t. If Jason was to blame for his own death (false) why would he want another child to fall into this life and commit a mistake (even trained as he was) that would end up with them dead?

Or, if Jason wasn’t the one to blame for his own death (truth) and it actually was his mentor/father’s(because he neglected him) and the clown’s fault, then WHY would Jason train a child when he understands that sometimes things can go wrong and a mistake on his part can end up in a child dying?!

When Jason said that he wanted to be the better version of Batman for Gotham he didn’t mean that he wanted to be Batman and that he would get a Robin for himself (please, that mess must die with Battle for the Cowl), he meant that he as Red Hood would use methods that Batman himself wouldn’t dare to use just so he can help Gotham’s people.

And while I am on the subject of the people that Jason wants to help, why would Jason Todd, the man that carried a duffel bag with the heads of crime/drug lords’ right-hand men as a demonstration of what would happen if said crime/drug lords kept selling drugs to children or near schoolyards, want children to fall into dangerous lifestyles?????

I know drugs and being a child vigilante aren’t the same thing, but both things propose a danger to children. If Jason wants to protect children from one dangerous situation, wouldn’t he also want to protect them from another one (and one that he knows is dangerous and can lead to someone’s death)?

Am I that wrong or out of touch with who Jason truly is that I see him taking children under his wing as an impossibility?

Or am I just looking way too deep into something that isn’t deep at all because DC doesn’t really know what to do with Jason and they have lost sense of who he truly was?

Let me know because I am lost.

[dreadwulf]

1. It Was There That I Saw You

He hears it over the radio that first time. 

“The Blue Angel is down.”

One of those crummy broadcasting setups that still run out of universities sometimes. Ancient amateur stations he picks up on the road while trying to plot out a route to the family compound around the Others. They announce sightings sometimes, rather like weather reports, or traffic updates. Undead on Highway 11, detour recommended.

The roads are clear that evening, and the drive is as quiet and peaceful as a biodiesel vehicle can manage, except for the news on the radio.

"The Blue Angel is down, and our world grows a little bit colder and darker," the radio man says.

Jaime switches off the receiver. He shakes his head slightly as he drives the ungainly armored car along the winding road, peering into the dusk without headlights. The radio man doesn’t know the Blue Angel. He’s some punk kid, was probably at uni when the Others first attacked and hasn’t ventured outside since. That’s who still broadcasts these days, old student outfits barricaded inside their campuses. This kid doesn’t know the Blue Angel’s name, probably doesn’t even know she's a woman. He will pay him no mind.

But he leaves the radio off for the rest of the journey.

At the Rock he pulls the car into the oversized garage and erects the usual gates and barriers behind him to keep the Others out. These precautions he can do in his sleep now, and he hardly has to think on them. He is more fortunate than most, now - living in a walled compound in a walled city offers a stability most people no longer have, one that would have been unheard of not very long ago. It gives him a more uneventful life, even some creature comforts. It's also, in his opinion, dreadfully boring. Which is why he never stays for long.

His thoughts pivot around the voice on the radio. The Blue Angel. He gave her that name, years ago, before anyone knew her at all. When it was just the two of them on the Kingsroad, and she was hardly more than a kid herself. Does the kid on the radio know that? No, he assuredly does not. The kid on the radio doesn’t know anything. 

His brother Tyrion will have heard the news elsewhere. He doesn’t listen to radio, wouldn’t have any reason to since he never leaves the compound. But he has his own sources.

His brother is the second person to tell him, when Jaime walks into the front office loosening his tie. As expected, Tyrion’s still working - it would be either that or reading, even when the house goes dark. Their generator only runs a few hours a day, and his brother keeps right on working by lamplight when the time’s up. 

Tyrion has taken over the family business, as well as the mansion and all its high walls. That happened after the rest of the family had been wiped out, while Jaime had been away. Ironic that he had survived them all, considering he had been essentially left to die when the Others came. Like many of the sick and disabled, there had not been much provision for his physical difficulties as a little person and he had been left to fend for himself. Anyone who couldn’t defend themselves was SOL in that first year. How he had even gotten himself home from uni is a bit of a mystery to Jaime. By the time Jaime managed to get himself there, his brother was already gone, and it had taken them a very long time to find one another again. 

It had been his brother’s cleverness helped him survive, not his big brother, to both of their disappointment. Said cleverness certainly keeps them in business now.

Tyrion probably hasn’t looked up from his ledgers in hours, but he looks up when Jaime comes in, and keeps looking.

“Blue Angel’s down,” Tyrion mentions casually, but he is watching him closely.

“So they say.” Jaime whirls off his long coat and throws it over a chair. He has to sit right across from Tyrion to get within the circle of lamplight.

His brother’s mind works just a little bit faster than other people’s. The software he runs on is a little bit sharper, and before you can quite get a statement out, he is already replying. He gets bored of the formality of all these extra words and niceties. He doesn’t quite realize how obnoxious this is. As a result, Jaime never needs to say much. Tyrion will have most of the conversation without him.

“You don’t believe them,” Tyrion surmises, pushing his papers aside. An ill-fitting pair of glasses slides down the end of his scarred nose, and he has to catch them before they can fall off. Even Lannisters have troubles with eyewear these days. “I know you think she’s indestructible.”

“Near indestructible.” Insolently, Jaime puts his feet up on his brother’s nice mahogany desk, which used to be their father’s nice mahogany desk. Something about this room makes him act like a rebellious teenager. “It will take more than an amateur disk jockey passing on rumors to convince me.”

“True, rumors have been wrong before. I’ve heard that you were dead too, when you rode the Kingsroad.”

They don’t speak much of that time. Tyrion hated that Jaime abandoned the family to serve as a glorified mailman for five years, as he calls it. Escorting people and messages across the dangerous countryside in the early days of the Disaster might have made his name, and eventually added to the family’s renown, but this personal betrayal his brother has never forgiven. What he really hates, of course, is that Jaime left him alone with their father. 

Jaime lets it pass, jokes with him. “I probably started that rumor myself, at least once.”

“Don’t let this distract you,” he says. Tyrion’s mismatched eyes go back to his ledgers meaningfully. “Running Lannisport is enough work, without you running off all the time. We’re trying to bring the Riverlands into the fold. I need you on task, not obsessing over a girl.”

Jaime snorts. Tyrion can hardly lecture him on distractions. Little he may be, he has no trouble acquiring female companionship. He seems to have a different lady on his arm every time Jaime comes around. Sometimes two. 

Tyrion rolls his eyes. “Don’t start. My girls are different. I’m not mooning around after them years after they’re gone. When I lose one, I find another. You need another woman, Jaime.”

“With me running off all the time? Who’s going to tolerate that?” Jaime is bored of this conversation already. They’ve had it many times before. 

“Romantics. That’s who. You’re off risking your life to join the old nation together again, you’re a dashing hero. Plus the whole Kingsroad adventure. Women love that. You could be swimming in girls if you spared them half a glance. It’s been five years, Jaime.” 

“Four,” Jaime corrects him. Four years, three months, and eleven-or-so days. 

Tyrion says this more solemnly, looking over his glasses, “If the rumor isn’t true this time, someday it will be.”

He looks very much like their father when he does that, which is unwelcome. Jaime snatches his feet off the desk and wanders away to find something to eat, the big Lannister mansion resounding emptily around him. 

He manages to avoid his brother until he can head out again - he rarely passes more than a night at a time in this house. He checks for messages, refills his supplies, gets a proper shower, all of which he can do in a few hours. Such safety he finds oddly uncomfortable, if he lingers too long. He’ll be leaving the next day, and out the door before Tyrion is even out of his bed. 

The traveling, on the other hand, takes an age. Not even he travels very fast these days. The armored car, which is more of a delivery truck, doesn’t get over 50kph, and shudders and lurches at the upper end. Real petrol might perk up his engine, but petrol is rare these days, and he can refuel the biodiesel at most settlements now. So he drives slowly and is on the road almost constantly, and stops at Casterly Rock as infrequently as he can manage. 

Soon Jaime is hearing the same rumor everywhere, in snatches. He travels through the guarded and gated villages of the Riverlands on a regular circuit, drives through miles of nothing between aettlements, edging around clusters of Others that still live beyond the city lights. As he exchanges goods, messages, and information, he hears of the Blue Angel. Edges of conversation, news bulletins, idle conversation with gasoline sellers. His hosts at Pennytree gossip over it at dinner while passing around the green beans.

Did you hear about the Blue Angel? Damn shame. 

Jaime always agrees wordlessly. People still like to feed him, remembering his own time guarding the Kingsroad in the beginning of the new era. He hasn’t been the Slayer in four years, has been a politician-cum-envoy for far longer than he ever battled the Others, but he is far better known still for the former. Arguing with his hosts would be pointless. He just finishes his meal, salvaged canned goods heated over a campfire out back. In those early days, this would have been a feast. It’s still pretty good now. Vegetables are more and more scarce.

No one seems to know exactly what happened. He hears a few variations on it; the tale is different each time. Turned by the Others, haunting the Kingsroad where once she had been its protector. Crushed in the fall of a skyscraper in the Eyrie. Slain in battle protecting a school full of orphans from robbers. The details are in debate, but there is a consistent center. The Blue Angel is dead. It's a rumor still, but one with all the authority of the old King’s Landing Times newspaper, of truth. Everyone is sure.

But they don’t know her. Not like Jaime did. If they knew her they would not believe it so easily. They would need evidence. They would need a body, a grave. Otherwise it's just not realistic that she could be gone. He is not worried. He’s not.

Tyrion passes on the same news the next time he’s at the house. No particulars, but the same word from his own channels of information. No one knows how, but the Blue Angel is dead. 

Jaime has little patience for it now. Without any details, it’s still only a rumor. A remarkably consistent one, to be sure. But not enough to know for certain. He doesn’t even stop in the office, claiming exhaustion, avoiding conversation. 

Tyrion finds him anyway. 

“If you really wanted to know, you could ask The Spider.” His brother suggests late one night, startling him awake. “He could give you the whole story.”

Jaime had been dozing in an armchair in his own study, unwilling to go to bed and too tired to stay awake. He rubs at his left eye and yawns. “What time is it? You’re the only person I know who still wears a wristwatch.”

Tyrion looks worried. He stands there a long time waiting for him to answer.

“I don’t want to know,” Jaime mumbles sleepily. “Really I don’t.”

“Try to get some sleep, Jaime.”

In the bathroom mirror he has a few more gray hairs than before, visible even in candlelight. Before long there will be more gray than blond. He pulls them out one at a time. 

It’s too bad he can’t pluck the laugh lines away from his eyes the same way. He hasn’t laughed in a long time now. They feel unearned.

Everywhere he goes for a week solid, it's a funeral. Holly branches along the road, and stray, somehow-preserved flowers. Bars full of black coated mourners, drinking morosely.

It irritates him. Makes him grind his teeth. He shouldn’t resent these people. He knows it’s irrational to feel this way. But what do they know? How dare they mourn? What have they lost? A legend, a leader, a hero? They don’t know the woman behind the stories. She is so much more than that. 

For some reason it is the graffiti that finally gets to him. Seeing it written gives it permanence. Someone felt the need to document this, on a building, for all to see. First in an alley in Riverrun - written in an electric blue that seems to float over the dull brick of the building. “Blue Angel RIP,” it says, and it sears into Jaime’s vision. He sees it every time he closes his eyes. 

Before long the makeshift walls around Raventree are covered in mismatched sprays of blue, the neat and professional swoops of seasoned graffiti artists alongside the amateur efforts of random passers by, all offering their tributes. At the center of them all is a portrait, as detailed as an oil painting rendered in spray paint, of the Blue Angel’s long cloaked form standing over smaller figures in protection. She’s holding her favorite weapon, a solid titanium baseball bat. 

He stares at this portrait for a long time. It’s very good. She must have passed this way at some point. You can’t see her face, but she mostly keeps it covered anyway. This artist captures the way she stands, the gesture of her long, elegant fingers. This artist saw her, at least once, for certain.

It’s so strange. All of these people feel like they know her, that she belongs to them. And it’s true in a way. The Blue Angel belongs to everyone, she really does. But Brienne... Brienne belongs to a very few, if anyone, and if anyone then he is certainly one of them. And he knows she cannot possibly be dead. He knows it.

He stares at the graffiti portrait until his vision blurs and he can’t see anything anymore.

Jaime cuts off the rest of his circuit after that. Drives back to the Rock, as slowly and deliberately as ever, always watching for Others that he could be leading to the compound. In the house he stays only an hour. Packs a small bag and leaves the keys to the car on Tyrion’s desk, along with all his dossiers on the Riverlands, and his appointment book. 

Then he takes out his motorbike and drives it across the Riverlands, wastes precious petrol cruising the old highways dodging the snarls of abandoned cars. Tries to outrun the news. The wind blasts through him like a cold knife. He uses up one of his few remaining chargeables to get an mp3 player playing again, painfully loud, the heaviest music he can find. Hailstorms of guitar riffs assaulting him through the earpiece. He rides until his face is numb from wind and his nerves are rattled and brittle.

The Spider’s lair moves between rest stops these days. King’s Landing is still too dangerous, overrun with Others, and he likes to be off the map. Jaime checks a dozen highway offramps before he comes across the black RVs he is looking for.

He leaves the bike some distance away, as is the custom. The sound of a motorbike will bring Others running from miles away, and it’s impolite to lead zombies to people’s front door. Jaime walks the last mile in darkness, quiet as he can. He should have brought more weapons than a single pistol. He didn’t really think this through. But if the Others came to investigate the bike, he does not encounter them walking south, and before long the pavement opens out into a runaway truck ramp and a parking lot, and he can feel eyes on him from the line of trees beyond.

The Spider’s gang greets him with guns cocking, friendly as always. Black leather gargoyles. When they emerge from the shadows into the moonlight, Jaime puts his hands up and drops down to his knees. He waits for them to decide whether he can approach or if he has to move on and try again another night. He doesn’t hear them talking, but they communicate somehow, silently. He’s determined, over the years, that they use some kind of hand signals, but he’s never caught them doing it. 

The mobile home is painted black, and it’s almost invisible in the night. The Spider doesn’t take visitors in the daytime. The gun at his back pokes him directly up to the door.

On the inside, the trailer is flooded with fluorescent lighting of the kind rarely seen anymore. After years of lanterns and lamps, it looks otherworldly. Dreamlike. The Spider, in his silk robe, seems to gleam in the artificial light, reclining on his cushion-covered couch.

“Slayer,” he says mildly, gestures for Jaime to sit in a chair opposite him. “It’s been some time. What brings you to--”

“If you know anything,” Jaime tells him flatly, staying where he is just inside the door, “you know why I am here.”

Varys looks at him with cool, calculating assessment. His bald head shines thoughtfully.

“I do. But do sit down, you’re upsetting my birds.” In their cages all around the room, crows shudder and caw. Their black eyes stare unblinkingly at the intruder. The bald little man gestures again to a cushioned seat welded into the trailer.

Jaime acquiesces only enough to take a few steps further into the trailer, standing over the Spider’s chaise lounge. Varys shrugs him off, not remotely threatened. He smiles up from his comfortable position as though it’s a deck chair at a beach, and Jaime is there to take his drinks order.

“That is a fine prosthetic you have there. I would never have known, if I didn’t know everything. The color is perfect, just perfect. Which one is it, right or left?"

The Spider doesn’t really expect him to answer. He knows that Jaime has kept a tight lid on that detail, so far. There are certainly people out there in the world who know for certain, and he will surely find out eventually, but the Spider has not gotten any of them to talk just yet. He will fish for the information just the same. It’s a reflex, at this point. 

"Where in the world did you get it? I didn’t think they made things like this anymore, not to custom. But you’re a wealthy man again, aren’t you? Even after Armageddon, Lannisters stay rich.” The spider shows a sliver of teeth. “You would think that money and influence would mean nothing in the new world, but it isn’t so. We simply deal in different currencies now. Your brother realized that faster than most. Clever man.”

Jaime remains standing. 

The Spider’s fingers drum his seat warily. “I, of course, recall how you helped me to escape King’s Landing. Have you come to call in this debt?”

“Is she dead?” He spits out the words like he will not taste their poison if he is rid of them quickly enough.

Varys hesitates. Just for a moment, but it is enough to make Jaime blanch well ahead of his answer.

“Yes. Without a doubt.”

Jaime’s throat tightens around the word. “How?”

“How else? The Others.”

Jaime takes one more breath, and chokes on it. He can’t get any more words out. 

He turns and slaps his palms against the door of the trailer so that it bangs open and he is out into the freezing night again, running, past the blurry borders of the rest-stop and into proper forest, and when he cannot run anymore he drops to his hands and knees in the mud and opens his mouth and wails until he has no voice left. 

His fists beat into the earth as though he can make it give her back.

When there’s nothing left inside him he gets up. Stumbles unseeing back through the forest. Raw and shaking, he pushes through Varys’ honor guard of former bikers, back into the Spider’s Lair.

Varys has not moved since he left him. He watches Jaime drop down into the chair opposite him as though it were only moments since he gave his terrible answer. 

“Would you like to ask for your boon now?” the Spider asks. 

“Yes.” Jaime leans forward. “I need weapons.”

***

Let me hold you in my arms dear

And let me melt in the heat of your gaze

And let the clock strike one,

Time and mind go marching on

Let our sense of selves decay

It was there that I saw you

In the heat of a summer's embrace

But as time went on

I wondered what went wrong

I wondered what became of you

“It Was There That I Saw You”, ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead

[aion-rsa]

Doctor Who: Perfect 10? How Fandom Forgets the Dark Side of David Tennant’s Doctor

https://ift.tt/2URb21b

As recently as September 2020 David Tennant topped a Radio Times poll of favourite Doctors. He beat Tom Baker in a 2006 Doctor Who Magazine poll, and was voted the best TV character of the 21st Century by the readers of Digital Spy. He was the Doctor during one of Doctor Who‘s critical and commercial peaks, bringing in consistently high ratings and a Christmas day audience of 13.31 million for ‘Voyage of the Damned’, and 12.27 million for his final episode, ‘The End of Time – Part Two’. He is the only other Doctor who challenges Tom Baker in terms of associated iconography, even being part of the Christmas idents on BBC One as his final episodes were broadcast. Put simply, the Tenth Doctor is ‘My Doctor’ for a huge swathe of people and David Tennant in a brown coat will be the image they think of when Doctor Who is mentioned.

In articles to accompany these fan polls, Tennant’s Doctor is described as ‘amiable’ in contrast to his predecessor Christopher Eccleston’s dark take on the character. Ten is ‘down-to-earth’, ‘romantic’, ‘sweeter’, ‘more light-hearted’ and the Doctor you’d most want to invite you on board the TARDIS. That’s interesting in some respects, because the Tenth Doctor is very much a Jekyll and Hyde character. He’s handsome, he’s charismatic, and travelling with him can be addictively fun, but he is also casually cruel, harshly dismissive, and lacking in self-awareness. His ego wants feeding, and once fed, can have destructive results.

That tension in the character isn’t due to bad writing or acting. Quite the contrary. Most Doctors have an element of unpleasantness to their behaviour. Ever since the First Doctor kidnapped Ian and Barbara, the character has been moving away from the entitled snob we met him as, but can never escape it completely.

Six and Twelve were both written to be especially abrasive, then soften as time went on (with Colin Baker having to do this through Big Finish audio plays rather than on telly). A significant difference between Twelve and Ten, though, is that Twelve questions himself more. Ten, to the very end, seems to believe his own hype.

The Tenth Doctor’s duality is apparent from his first full appearance in 2005’s ‘The Christmas Invasion’. Having quoted The Lion King and fearlessly ambled through the Sycorax ship in a dressing gown, he seems the picture of bonhomie, that lighter and amiable character shining through. Then he kills their leader. True, it was in self-defence, but it was lethal force that may not have been necessary. Then he immediately topples the British Prime Minister for a not dissimilar act of aggression. Immediately we see the Tenth Doctor’s potential for violence and moral grey areas. He’s still the same man who considered braining someone with a rock in ‘An Unearthly Child’. 

Teamed with Rose Tyler, a companion of similar status to Tennant’s Doctor, they blazed their way through time and space with a level of confidence that bordered on entitlement, and a love that manifested itself negatively on the people surrounding them. The most obvious example in Series 2 is ‘Tooth and Claw’, where Russell T. Davies has them react to horror and carnage in the manner of excited tourists who’ve just seen a celebrity. This aloof detachment results in Queen Victoria establishing the Torchwood institute that will eventually split them apart. We see their blinkers on again in ‘Rise of the Cybermen’, when they take Mickey for granted. Rose and the Doctor skip along the dividing line between romance and hubris.

Then, in a Christmassy romp where the Doctor is grieving the loss of Rose, he commits genocide and Donna Noble sucker punches him with ‘I think you need somebody to stop you’. Well-meaning as this statement is, the Doctor treats it as a reason to reduce his next companion to a function rather than a person. Martha Jones is there to stop the Doctor, as far as he’s concerned. She’s a rebound companion. Martha is in love with him, and though he respects her, she’s also something of a prop.

This is the series in which the Doctor becomes human in order to escape the Family of Blood (adapted from a book in which he becomes human in order to understand his companion’s grief, not realising anyone is after him), and is culpable for all the death that follows in his wake. Martha puts up with a position as a servant and with regular racist abuse on her travels with this man, before finally realising at the end of the series that she needs to get out of the relationship. For a rebound companion, Martha withstands a hell of a lot, mostly caused by the Doctor’s failings. 

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Series 4 develops the Doctor further, putting the Tenth’s Doctor’s flaws in the foreground more clearly. Donna is now travelling with him, and simply calls him out on his behaviour more than Rose or Martha did. Nonetheless the Doctor ploughs on, and in ‘Midnight’ we see him reduced to desperate and ugly pleas about how clever he is when he’s put in a situation he can’t talk himself out of.

Rose has also become more Doctor-like while trapped in another reality, and brutally tells Donna that she’s going to have to die in order to return to the original timeline (just as the Doctor tells Donna she’s going to have to lose her memories of travelling with him in order to live her previous life, even as she clearly asks him not to – and how long did the Doctor know he would have to do this for? It’s not like he’s surprised when Donna starts glitching). Tied into this is the Doctor’s belief in his own legend. In ‘The Doctor’s Daughter’ he holds a gun to Cobb’s head, then withdraws it and asks that they start a society based on the morals of his actions. You know, like a well-adjusted person does.

What’s interesting here is that despite presenting himself as ‘a man who never would’, the Doctor is a man who absolutely would. We’ve seen him do it. Even the Tenth Doctor, so keen to live up to the absolute moral ideals he espouses, killed the Sycorax leader and the Krillitanes, drove the Cybermen to die of despair, brought the Family of Blood to a quiet village and then disposed of them personally. But Tennant doesn’t play this as a useful lie, he plays it as something the Doctor absolutely believes in that moment, that he is a man who would not kill even as his daughter lies dead. It’s why his picking up a gun in ‘The End of Time’ has such impact. And it makes some sense that the Tenth Doctor would reject violence following a predecessor who regenerated after refusing to commit another double-genocide.

In the series finale ‘Journey’s End‘, Davros accuses the Doctor of turning his friends into weapons. This is because the Doctor’s friends have used weapons against the Daleks who – and I can’t stress this enough – are about to kill everyone in the entire universe. Fighting back against them seems pretty rational. Also – and again I can’t stress this enough – the Daleks are bad. Like, really bad. You won’t believe just how mindbogglingly bad they are. The Doctor has tried to destroy them several times by this point. Here, there isn’t the complication of double-genocide, and instead the very real threat of absolutely everyone in the universe dying. This accusation, that the Doctor turns people into weapons, should absolutely not land.

And yet, with the Tenth Doctor, it does. This is a huge distinction between him and the First Doctor, who had to persuade pacifists to fight for him in ‘The Daleks’.

In ‘The Sontaran Strategem’ Martha compares the Doctor to fire. It’s so blunt it almost seems not worth saying, but it’s the perfect analogy (especially for a show where fire is a huge part of the very first story). Yes, fire shines in dark places, yes it can be a beacon, but despite it being very much fire’s entire deal, people can forget that it burns. And fire has that mythical connection of being stolen from the gods and brought to humanity. The Time Lord Victorious concept fits the Tenth Doctor so well. Of all the Doctors, he’s the most ready to believe in himself as a semi-mythic figure.

Even when regenerating there’s a balance between hero and legend: the Tenth Doctor does ultimately save Wilfred Mott, but only after pointing out passionately how big a sacrifice he’s making. And then he goes to get his reward by meeting all his friends, only to glare at them from a distance. His last words are ‘I don’t want to go’, which works well as clearly being a poignant moment for the actor as well, but in the context of Doctor Who as a whole it renders Ten anomalous: no one else went this unwillingly. And yet, in interviews Russell T. Davies said it was important to end the story with ‘the Doctor as people have loved him: funny, the bright spark, the hero, the enthusiast’.

It’s fascinating then, that this is the Doctor who has been taken to heart by so many viewers because there’s such an extreme contrast between his good-natured front, his stated beliefs, and his actions. He clearly loves Rose and Donna, but leaves them with a compromised version of happiness. They go on extraordinary journeys only to end up somewhere that leaves them less than who they want to be, with Russell T. Davies being more brutally honest than Steven Moffat, who nearly always goes the romance route. Davies once said to Mark Lawson that he liked writing happy endings ‘because in the real world they don’t exist’, but his endings tend towards the bittersweet: Mickey and Martha end up together but this feels like they’re leftovers from the Doctor and Rose’s relationship. The Tenth Doctor doesn’t, as Nine does, go with a smile, but holding back tears.

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It’s a testament to how well written the Tenth Doctor is that the character has this light and shade, and with David Tennant’s immense likeability he can appeal to a wider audience as a result. It’s not surprise he wins all these polls, but I can’t help but feel that if the Doctor arrived and invited me on board the TARDIS, I’d want it to be anyone but Ten.

The post Doctor Who: Perfect 10? How Fandom Forgets the Dark Side of David Tennant’s Doctor appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[miraculousluvbug]

WINGLESS | Ch. 2

***WARNING: Season 4 Spoilers Ahead

***New to Wingless? Start at Chapter 1!

CH. SUMMARY: Of all the people Rena could let slip that she knows Ladybug's identity in front of . . . it had to be Chat Noir.

< < < THREE MONTHS AGO < < <

Ladybug swung from building to building, the exhilaration of a job well done fueling the fire in her veins. Traffic it would seem had resumed immediately, the sounds of wheels on pavement and cars obnoxiously honking ricocheting throughout the city’s architecture. This didn’t surprise Ladybug, seeing as the city had grown quite accustomed to akumas blocking the roads. Once the tips of her toes touched a rooftop, it wasn’t long before she was joined by another pair of boots.

“That went well,” commented Ladybug as she swiveled to face her teammate.

Rena Rouge folded her arms across her chest and popped a hip, lips puckered in a frown. “Are you kidding, girl?”

Ladybug’s face fell. No, she wasn’t kidding. She honestly had felt it went well. Was she missing something? Did a disaster strike while she was focused on her lucky charm? Had her Miraculous ladybugs not corrected all of the damage? Were there civilians hurt somewhere--

Abruptly, Rena clapped her hands on Ladybug’s shoulders and squealed, putting a halt to Ladybug’s internal meltdown. “That went amazing! We’re like a well-oiled machine, you and me. I still can’t believe I get to do superhero stuff!” At the sound of Alya’s impromptu shrieking, some pigeons nearby took flight, cooing what Ladybug imagined was a bird version of crotchety old people grumbling. Not even the least bit deterred, Rena leaned forward into Ladybug’s personal bubble, eyes wide with excitement. “But what I really can’t believe is that I’m doing it all with my best friend!”

Ladybug relaxed her posture and let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. But she quickly regretted it when she got a nice, big whiff of crepes, urine, and cigarette smoke. Ah, Paris. Home, sweet home. However, noticing her thoughts were veering dangerously offtrack, Ladybug shook herself mentally.

So nothing had gone wrong. Rena was just being Rena and drawing out the suspense. Ladybug patted her friend’s right hand--which was still firmly squeezing her shoulder--and smiled sweetly.

“It sure is convenient that I don’t have to hide from you anymore,” the spotted-heroine remarked. “I think half the time I took so long to get to a battle because I always had to come up with excuses.”

Rena grinned with a knowing glint in her eye. “I might be impressed if your excuses were actually good.”

Rolling her eyes, Ladybug turned away from Rena, causing Rena’s hands to fall to her sides. “Hey, you try having to come up with five hundred different reasons you have to flake on your friends and see if you fare any better.”

Rena was about to sass her best friend some more, but the words caught in her throat at the sight of Ladybug hugging herself. She recognized this stance. Ladybug’s head was in what Rena deemed the “Guilt Grotto.”

Rena stepped forward to wrap Ladybug in a warm, girl-you-better-get-your-head-out-of-the-guilt-grotto-or-I’ll-tickle-you embrace when there was movement across the rooftops in her periphery. She craned her head to the right to find the familiar silhouette of Chat Noir vaulting his way over, a goofy grin clearly plastered across his face the closer he got.

In a matter of seconds, he landed squarely beside Ladybug, startling her. Ladybug, the epitome of grace that she was, did a series of awkward hand gestures before falling back on her bum, shrieking.

Chat Noir didn’t even look a teeny bit remorseful.

“Looks like I got here just in time!” he quipped, bowing and sliding his baton back into place on his suit.

Rena held out a hand for her friend as Ladybug voiced her question: “In time for what?”

Chat bounced on the balls of his feet. “Well, for the akuma, of course! You guys were having a quick team meeting, right?”

Rena and Ladybug shared a look. So that’s what he was so happy about. Ladybug opened her mouth to reply, but Rena beat her to it.

“Actually, we already took care of the akuma.”

Chat Noir visibly deflated. His ears drooped and his belt tail started to swish back and forth. “Oh.” He turned to the edge of the rooftop and hunkered down, letting his legs kick to and fro in an attempt to get rid of some of the adrenaline.

Ladybug winced. Chat did not sound happy. Hesitantly, she sat next to him. Rena then took a seat beside her, making her the middle. “Sorry, Chat. I know you like battling akumas more than I do.”

Chat nodded before murmuring, “Thirteen.”

“Hm?” Ladybug scooted closer to him to hear him better, their legs nearly touching. She leaned to her right to get a better look at his face and tilted her head innocently. If she were Marinette then, she might have fallen off the rooftop altogether, but she was Ladybug, and Ladybug had way more poise.

Chat didn’t answer immediately. Whatever it was that he was about to say, Ladybug knew it must be something important if he, the guy who was always upfront about his feelings, found it difficult to say. The guy who told her . . .

It’s precisely when something is important that it’s important to say it.

No matter what.

Ladybug gingerly rested a hand on his arm, hoping he understood what the gesture meant. It’s okay. Take your time. I’m ready to listen.

After a few more moments of staring at his feet, Chat Noir lifted his head so his eyes bore into Ladybug’s. They creased with . . . Was that worry? Sadness? Fear?

“Thirteen,” he repeated, a bit louder. “That makes it thirteen times you and Rena have battled an akuma without me. Since Montparnasse Tower.”

Ladybug was speechless. As she stared ahead, eyes unfocused, she tried her hardest to recall all the akuma battles. It was challenging as her memory loved to fail her when she needed it most. Had he really not been in any of those battles? Had it really been thirteen times?

Had he . . . had he really been keeping count?

Ladybug didn’t know what to say, but she knew she had to say something, anything. But what could she say? Was she sorry?

No, she couldn’t be sorry that the akumas had been defeated, that the victims had been rescued, that she had been able to do so quickly because Alya had been spending a record amount of hours by her side.

She couldn’t be sorry about any of that. She was only sad that he felt sidelined.

That was not her intention.

But she knew what the solution to that was.

And she would rather die before she let Chat Blanc see the light of day.

Somehow, knowing her identity had led to him being akumatized. Somehow, whether it was in an alternate timeline or when their memories had been wiped by Oblivio, she knew that what he said at Montparnasse Tower--that to know him was to love him--was truth. And Chat Blanc had told her what their love did.

Their love destroyed the world.

Their love had killed her.

Their love broke the moon, for crying out loud.

But, most importantly, their love hurt him.

Chat Noir had told her he loved her, many times, and she had even been considering giving his pun-spurting, jokes-at-the-worst-times self a chance. But being forced into combat with her akumatized partner had violently squashed any hope she had for them, for LadyNoir as Alya coined it on her blog. Ladybug would be damned if she allowed that to happen again. And if that meant encouraging him to move on even though it broke her heart . . .

Well, it wasn’t supposed to be easy being a hero.

Ladybug had this entire conversation with herself in a matter of seconds. She was careful not to let her face expose any of her innermost feelings, instead sporting an expression of neutrality. What she ultimately decided to do was tell him the only truth she had to offer. He hated secrets and she hated lying. What a pair they made.

“I wish it could be different,” she whispered.

And oh, how she did. She desperately yearned to tell him who she was, to know who he was, to tell him about Alya and Nino and all the other people she had entrusted with a Miraculous.

She wanted him to know how she grew up, what kinds of things she did at school, how she was utterly ridiculous when it came to her rotten luck (and she tried very hard to push a certain blue-eyed blonde out of her head the moment that phrase came to mind). She was sure he would snicker at all the times she made a fool of herself in front of Adrien, of all the ways she made her own life a living hell with her clumsiness.

Or perhaps he wouldn’t laugh. Perhaps he would pat her shoulder and uplift her with words of encouragement. She didn’t know. After the stunt he pulled with the balcony of candle-lit roses, the boy was a wild card, an enigma. He was complex.

And it thrilled her.

But no matter how she felt about him, they couldn’t know each other that way.

Sighing quietly, Ladybug brought her knees up to her chest and turned away from Chat Noir. If she had been watching him when she responded, she might have seen him look longingly at her, but she didn’t.

Rena Rouge did, though.

Wanting to make her friends feel better, Rena added, “Don’t you worry your pretty kitty head about it. I’m sure all those battles would have taken way longer if we weren’t already together.”

Ladybug and Chat Noir both stiffened. Chat’s gaze flicked from Rena to his partner over and over before they finally rested on Ladybug. “Uh, what does she mean by that?”

Ladybug shot a glare in Rena’s direction, but her eyes softened when she saw that Rena genuinely appeared surprised.

He didn’t know? Rena’s eyes asked Ladybug.

He didn’t know, Ladybug’s affirmed.

One would think Rena was Lady Luck because her pendant had decided that that moment was the best time to beep, and she couldn’t agree more. Now she had an escape route from this conversation. “Welp,” she clapped her hands together, “I’m gonna go chill in that fine-lookin’ alley over there.”

Before Ladybug could agree, Rena sprang from her spot and promptly disappeared. She was a regular magician, and her latest trick was leaving Ladybug with a rabbit to put back in the hat.

Or, er--a cat back in the bag. Whatever.

“What she meant by that . . . ” Ladybug began slowly, like she was addressing a wounded animal. Which, maybe she was but just, you know, emotionally wounded.

“Yeah . . . ” prompted Chat, signalling that he was not going to drop this.

Ladybug quickly jumped to her feet and began her ritual of frantic pacing. “Look, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while, but I didn’t know how to because I knew it would raise questions that I couldn’t answer--”

A blonde boy in white leather with somber blue eyes appeared in front of her and she dug her heels into the cement, skidding to a stop.

Chat Noir was behind Ladybug now, his voice soft and curious. “Bug?”

Ladybug was frozen in place for a few more seconds before she shook her head hard enough to give herself shaken-baby syndrome and nodded, satisfied that the aggressive head-shaking had rid her of he who shall not be named. She whipped around and started.

Chat Noir was incredibly close.

She didn’t know he had gotten this close.

Geez, his eyes were really cat-like.

He also had a really cute nose--

Ladybug, FOCUS!

Ladybug took a step back. She made it her mission to ogle his bell instead of looking into his dumb kitten eyes. “You--” she began, but Ladybug’s throat was suddenly dry. She gulped. “You know how much I hate secrets and lying. And I know how much you hate secrets and lying. So I’m not going to lie to you. But I may not be able to answer the questions I’m sure you’ll have, so please . . . ”

Ladybug grabbed one of his hands then and held it firmly between her own, pleading with every fiber of her being that this would communicate how much he meant to her even though she knew what she was about to tell him would make it seem like he didn’t mean anything.

Please forgive me, Ladybug’s heart supplied.

When he didn’t immediately take his hand back, she looked up at him. She looked into those dumb kitten eyes and knew without a shadow of a doubt--

She was a masochist.

This was going to hurt. He didn’t like when she was the only one to know Rena’s identity. He definitely wasn’t going to like that Rena knew hers. This would be so much easier if she wasn’t ogling those big, emerald green, beautiful, brazenly dumb kitten eyes.

But she was a masochist. And she needed to see them while they still held love for her.

“I told Rena Rouge who I am.”

There. She ripped off the band-aid. Straight to the point. Zero room for interpretation. After all, her worst arguments started because of her clumsy miscommunication.

Ladybug braced herself for an explosion. She had played this moment in her head a couple hundred times since exposing herself to Alya.

Yelling. There was always yelling.

Sometimes, he stomped away while doing that weird T pose where his fists didn’t connect to his hips . . . a pose she herself was guilty of, too.

Others, he chastised her about her thoughtlessness--to which she responded that she definitely thought about it long and hard that day.

Ladybug braced herself for an explosion because she was sure there was going to be one, especially after seeing him upset about her always running off to Master Fu. He hadn’t even known there was a Guardian for a while.

What she hadn’t braced herself for was the expression on his face.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

His head was bowed.

His eyes were closed.

A lone tear slid down his cheek.

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Her heart thudded against her ribcage, screaming at her to run because he wanted her Miracul--!

No! She refused to finish that thought.

Her head yelled back that he wasn’t akumatized right now, that she wasn’t back there, that she wasn’t with him. She desperately tried to shove the image from her mind. This was more than she could bear. She just--she couldn’t take it! She couldn’t take it because . . .

Because . . .

Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

Because he looked just like him.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

He looked like Chat Blanc.

-----

Heya! Thanks for reading. ❤ Check out my Instagram for Wingless updates. I'm also posting pieces of a Wingless cover with each chapter update!

(2/?) Previous | Next

[dungeonaspects]

Campaign Idea: The Heart of The Forest

"The lifeblood of the world has been drained to its last drops, once the heart fails, so do we."

The History

The heart of the forest was a secret for eons, the paths obscured by the will of nature. Within ancient texts and hidden murals the secrets of the heart can be discovered, its powers laid bare only to those that truly searched for answers.

From the heart the cure for all diseases and ailments can be found, age can be reversed, limbs regrown, lives saved. Many perished searching the world for the heart, even more gave it up as a fairytale. Yet one group succeeded, led by a great archdruid.

An avatar of a god had been struck down by a blight that ate away at their divinity, to maintain balance in the world the adventuring party persuaded the archdruid to guide them to the heart. It took many months and many trials to find, the twisting trails of the forest arduous even for the ally of nature.

The hearts guardian would not let them pass, so the party let their desperation take hold. They murdered the guardian, like a common animal. The druid was enraged yet the paladin struck them down, refusing to let their deity die over some beast.

And so the party cut into the heart, taking the oozing blood and feeding it to the god who convulsed before the blight receded, their grandeur returning. The god was grateful to the adventurers, granting each a wish within their power, one was wealth, another a weapon of great power, the third a guarantee from the god that when they die they will come to the gods realm, and curiously the last.

The final wish was for the party to leave the forest safely, recognising that without the druid they would likely die in the twisting forest. The god smiled and exerted their will, straightening the fractured paths and hidden trails. A single road led out the forest, perhaps a three day travel.

With that the god left, the party was met back home with a heroes welcome and accolades. They are now a story passed down in generations, the saviours of the gods.

The Hook

What happened next was where things took a turn. The god thought little of their actions, so grateful to be alive that the simple act of letting their protectors get home was without question.

Yet without realising they had broken an enchantment that nature itself had wrought, a protective defence around the very heart of life. The heart sat open to the world, a road now cutting through its maze-like home where any could wander through.

And so people did, some looking for the secret elixir to save their loved ones from death, others looking to save themselves. But then there were those that sought to make coin. Once a merchant company caught wind that the elixir was real they sent a convoy to the heart, the owner beseeching the king to sell them the "useless land" that was the obscure and impassable forest. The king sold it to the merchant company for only one-hundred gold.

The company threw out the commoners that had begun to settle there, before long palisades and guard posts were built around a huge complex that began to envelop the heart. From here the merchant company could bottle and sell the blood of life.

Sold for excesses of ten's of thousands of gold the company built a fortress around the heart, one so well fortified and manned that even the surrounding kingdoms feared the formidable force. It has been almost two centuries since it was first built, the same merchant leader standing atop a monopolised supply of eternal youth, selling it to the opulent to live forever as young and healthy.

However the price had just jumped to two-hundred thousand gold for a single mouthful, the rich elite now struggling to get their hands on the life-giving elixir. And what's worse, the regular users who cannot get their hands on the elixir have begun to age quickly and... mutate. Their hands ending in claws, their hair being replaced with black oozing vines.

But the true kick in the teeth for the kingdoms instead of the kings and queens are that the lands are dying, forests are blighted, crops are failing, even the bounty of the sea is dwindling. The heart of nature may be enduring its last fluttering beats, and the rich simply wish to squeeze the last few drops from it.

Some Ideas

While this is uncomfortably topical I do feel like it could be a good basis for a campaign. You must fight back the figurative (and maybe literal) corruption found within the land to give life to the source of life itself. Will you see the worsening world devolve into chaos as the rich (and often those in charge) fall to madness, could the earth turn to dust?

In terms of motivation players have a few different routes, the selfless:

"I wish to save the world and make it whole again"

The atonement:

"My god/family caused this, I must fix it"

The need:

"My (family member) is dying, and getting hold of that elixir is their only hope"

The selfish:

"That elixir can line my pocket, it can't do that if it's run out"

Or it can be a mixture of the above, someone employed by the merchant company to fix the problem, promising them an endless supply for their dying mother and riches if they resolve the issue. And of course I'd love to hear about different motivations you can think of, these are just a few off the top of my head.

As for how you resolve the issue that's up to you, there's always the mcguffin idea, an artefact that can heal it. But I like the idea that the heart needs straight up power to repair, and the lives of the sentient races are drops in the ocean, it would need a god. The party will need to convince a god to die to save the world.

This can go as smoothly or as rough as you like, you must complete some tasks for the god to "tie up some loose ends", or you need to overpower the god then drag their avatar to the heart and sacrifice them to it. A bit hardcore but will certainly make the players question how right it is to take a life (especially one that could be a good aligned god) to save the world.

We may all know the pragmatic answer but a divine being bound in golden rope, kneeling next to the drained pond below the mutilated heart, and one of you needs to kill the weeping deity, that's gonna be a gutpunch.

I would talk with your players about how dark you want it to go, since this can go in a rough direction. If everyone wants to participate this can be an intense emotional rollercoaster, just make sure in session 0 you know what may make everyone uncomfortable.

Art by Jakob Eirich

Words can't really describe how I feel about this picture, there's something ancient and foreboding about it, but I get this feeling of peace looking at it. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel, but damn do I like it. Thank you

[novena-proxy]

Bnha AU Lore dump

Tiny Enthusiast au!!

@that-one-anime-writer and @christinebloodwrittings My mutuals thought you'd enjoy this!! Also @calciumcryptid

cuz you have polarmare and alot of good oc's and I just like your blog and bnha content.

Ok so this au is based around the concept of g/t. G/t is short for Giant/tiny, and is a trope that has character dynamic revolving around characters with vastly Different sizes interacting. For example, The Borrowers, The Secret World of Arietty ect.

Anyway is this au tinys exist, thier smaller than regular people, small enough to fit in a persons hand. They don't have quirks like humans and they are a separate species to humans despite looking the same as regular humans.

Anyway in this AU Present Mic (Who rocks the Manbun like nobody's buisness and has a bunch of Tatoos because I love that hc) loves tiniest alot like the man is 100% ride or die for any and all tinys very sweet and supportive. He is also very cuddly twords tinys he loves cuddles with the tinys and tickles tinys under thier chin with a fingertip to say hello and becase he thinks it's cute.

Mic is as mentioned 1000% the type of person who would never turn down the oprotunity to coo and fawn over tinys. Also he would be very cuddly holding them, tickling under thier chins with a fingertip, Caressing thier cheek with his fingertip ect. He also has 0 shame what so ever, if there is a thing he has to do or say to show affection to a tiny he will do/say it no hesitation no questions asked.

Sidenote : I think there is this assumption that out of the erasermicnight trio (Eraser + Midnight + Mic) that Midnight has the least amount of shame. But it's actually Hizashi that has -30 ammounts of shame. He will do whatever he wants no matter how embarrassing it is, he's very passionate and he's not embarrassed about his hobbies or the things he likes.

Anyway to get back on track this man loves tinys alot, he will coo and fawn over any tiny he meets he will give them love and cuddles and caress and care for them 24/7 with a smile on his face.

Also he's a mentor in this au. I know alot of people pair him with Jirou becase of thier quirks and shared love of music but I wanted to go a different route. Mic would mentor Todoroki, but with tinys instead of hero stuff. Mic educates Todoroki in the ways of cooing, fawning over and cuddling tinys. Also protecting them as they are both heros so being protective comes naturally them. Todoroki takes to it like a duck to water and they bond over how much they love tinys!!! There is some rough patches like Mic going “no Todoroki you can’t start off with explaining your traumatic past to every tiny you meet.”.

Mic would teach Todoroki things like this is how you hold the tiny,and caress thier cheek with your finger. Oh and don't loom over them that makes you look scary and threatening. Instead try laying on the ground on your stomach or crouching down it makes you look smaller.

Mic is undoubtedly king when it comes to loving tinys as a pro hero there is no one else that loves tinys as much as he does. Though Fatgum is a close 2nd he's super friendly and offers tinys food whenever he meets them. Gang Orca and Selkie also like tinys too!!

Mic has a shirt that is designated for tinys to cuddle in. He calls it the tiny shirt, he'll bundle them up in it while he's holding them. The shirt's purpose is to give tinys someplace soft, warm and darkish to hide since they don't like being out in the open as it makes them feel vulnerable and scared.He would tear his home/ua office apart looking for it. If he ever lost it.

The tiny shirt is perfect. It's warm and soft without being too stuffy or too hot. The fabric let's in a good amount of light and air. It's a shirt Eraserhead got him, I hc that Aizawa has an eye for soft comfy stuff so when mic said he was in need of something warm and breathable Aizawa got it for him. He has one shirt at home and he keeps one at UA in case he ever runs into any tinys there.

One time the UA staff came back from a meeting into the teachers lounge to see Mic going absolutely nuts and the place is a wreck. At first they think he must be under the influence of a quirk as he's not acting like himself. but Aizawa asks what's wrong and Mic wails that he can't find the tiny shirt and Aizawa is the only one who knows what that means the rest are just confused. He does find it and apologizes for wrecking the place. He also has an official line of Present Mic merch of of super soft breathable shirts like the tiny shirt perfect for cuddling tinys.

And sometimes he'll lay down with his arms out and let tinys trace his tattoos with their fingers. He finds it cute how fascinated they are by his tattoos he'll also regale them with what each one means and how he got them!!

He is the king of loving tinys. He's on speed dial for any heros that find tinys he hears about tinys he's there, he also He's also gets SUPER upset if there was a tiny around and no one told him or if a hero dealt with a tiny and didn't tell him he'd be upset and mope about it for days on end.Hizashi "loves tinys" Yamada is overprotective of tinys he will go off on anyone making them even a little bit uncomfy..

Every pro hero knows that Mic can and will throw hands and square up to anyone making tinys upset, he has a reputation among other pros for being fearless and confrontational. Newbie heroes are always shocked to meet him because he's so nice and gentle nothing like the rumors that say he's always looking for a fight

Mic's known as the voice hero officially but unofficially other pros call him the tiny hero and newbie heroes are always confused when they meet him because he's not short or small.

Also it's unusual for a daylight hero like Mic to interact with tinys alot I mean rescue heros do as they can help get tinys out of a jam shoo away wildlife that tries to eat them. Underground heros see and help them once in a blue moon. But tinys tend to avoid people and noise and daylight heros deal with both of those things.

Fun fact Among underground hero circles tinys are urban legends and myths. Some.pros claim to have seen/rescued tiny people but most don't believe in them. Aizawa didn't believe in tinys until he met Hizashi and discovered his love of tinys and Mic introduced him to his tiny friends.

Also as is well know Mic loves and is protective of tintys, There is no one Hizashi will not throw hands with when it comes to tinys.

During the Kamino incident All For One takes a tiny hostage, is holding them in one hand, rubbing thier back with his thumb not too roughly but not gently either. And Mic just bluescreens and loses it next thing you know all for one is dead. All Might is thankfull but also terrified of Mic now.

[quinncupine]

Hiiii quinn! I never realised you did requests but if it would be fine (and also because its my sole goal) could you do a boom boom boi and izubby with having their own cat or dog as a pet??? I'm seriously thinking that boom boom boi would be both a cat and dog person, don't u agree? (Ily lots and don't feel pressured to do this if you have a lot of stuff going on!)

Hi Dorki! I'm finally making my way through my requests and I was really excited to write this one! Okay, hope you like it!

Quinns Masterlist

Wanna request something?

The Boys with Pets

Word Count: 1,750

Featuring: Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugo!

Warnings: dogs, cats, cursing

Izuku Midoriya

Now Izuku loves pretty much all animals, but I can totally see him getting a dog. Dogs are loyal and full of energy just like a certain green-haired hero. The perfect duo.

He would probably rescue one from the pound, the one with the biggest, saddest, cutest eyes because how could he not? But someone has to go with him because he'd try to rescue them all if there was no one there to stop him. Once a hero, always a hero I suppose.

I'm thinking for names, he would definitely pick a name that reflects his favorite heroes. Don't be surprised if he names his dog something super cheesy like Mighty or Rocky…

Wait, okay, I've decided, he names his dog Mighty and that is the hill I will die on.

The life of a hero is quite busy so when he goes off on long missions, he drops the dog off at his mom's house. Inko has fallen in love with this sweet pup, so much so that she sometimes begs him to stop by with the dog for a visit. It's the closest thing she's got to grandbabies at the moment, she'll take what she can get :)

Now, this cute pup draws in the attention of just about everyone so he's gotten an influx of attention and a few numbers slipped in his hand during their walks, much to his flustered surprise.

Best wingman ever.

This dog goes on regular runs with Izuku and sometimes even helps him with training. I'm thinking a Collie or an Aussie would just be the perfect fit for him to keep up with his personality and lifestyle. He needs an active dog!

I can see it now, he goes on his daily morning runs with this cute Lil furry training buddy and they race the whole way! A few regulars on the trail know about this and it's become sort of a tradition to cheer the two on as they pass.

 ...

The morning air was crisp with the slight scent of the coming autumn, the perfect morning for a run. Izuku, dressed in his usual training wear, had a steady rhythm going for the last forty minutes, letting out even, controlled breaths. This was the easy part of the run, a warm-up if anything, and he hadn't even broken a sweat yet. The canine jogging by his side was enjoying the dewy morning air as well, tongue happily flopping out the side of her mouth. The shared morning ritual between man and man's best friend: Mighty.

Her tail picked up speed, wagging uncontrollably as they neared the bend where the giant jagged rock towered over the path. It was the place marker to start the race. A three-mile run to the top of the hill located at the center of the park. It was also Mighty's favorite part of the morning.

"Ready girl?" Izuku grinned down at the ecstatic dog who barked in reply.

The instant the two of them passed the big rock, they both broke out in full speed, leaving behind a cloud of dust. Happy barks filled the air as she gained the upper hand. Izuku laughed as the dog turned to look back at him lagging behind her. He always did these races without his quirk to assist him. It was only fair and it helped him work on his natural stamina in case he was ever in a situation where he couldn't use his quirk. Always good to be prepared.

He watched as she bounded up the first steep hill on the trail. There were a few small hills on this route, but this one was the hardest to climb and Mighty had the advantage with her four legs so she always managed to pull ahead first. She stopped at the top and barked him on before quickly disappearing over the crest.

When he reached the top, he stopped for just a second to take in his surroundings. This part of the park was a heavily wooded area with numerous trails that many people used to hike or run. It also served as a great view of the city skyline and he couldn't help but stop and admire the rising sun from between the foggy buildings every time. Then Mighty barked to pull him out of his thoughts.

"It's not over yet!" He called after her and raced down the hill, putting on an extra burst of speed to easily close the distance.

Tail wagging, she nipped playfully at his feet as they sprinted along the path, side by side. There weren't many people out this early so he usually had the trail to himself. The only sounds were the wind in the trees, the leaves crunching under feet and paws, Mighty barking beside him, and his own unrestrained glee as they ran together.

These were the mornings he loved. Just the two of them, away from the stresses that came with pro-hero work. He wouldn't trade being a hero for anything, but sometimes it got to be too much so coming here to clear his mind with a little run was always a cathartic release, only made better by the furry companion by his side.

The short bridge that arched over the creek signaled the last mile. Getting more serious, Izuku pulled ahead of Mighty, not able to hold back the giant grin as he streaked across the bridge, startling a few birds off the railings which Mighty barked at as she came up behind him.

Up ahead was a large open meadow with a small duck pond near the center. A few benches were scattered about the path and he saw the same elderly couple sitting in their usual spot with a bag of rice and seed to feed the plethora of ducks waddling around their feet.

"You got him this time Mighty!" The old man looked up as the two of them zipped down the path towards the couple.

"Show 'em what girls can do!" The woman cracked a smile, waving her hands.

"Morning Mr. and Mrs. Fujino!" Izuku waved as he passed. "Don't count me out yet!"

Mighty barked her greeting and took a detour, herding some ducks closer to the couple then with a quick lick to Mr. Fujino's hand, she sprinted back to catch up to Izuku.

The Fujino's marked the last leg of the race. The only thing left was to climb the top of the largest hill in the park to the old oak tree at the top. That was the finishing line. It was always a gamble as to who finished first every day, but Mighty sure had a competitive spirit.

Izuku pumped his legs as he steadily made his way up to the dirt trail, Mighty just behind him before she suddenly veered left and disappeared into the shrubbery. He was so focused on the tree that slowly came into view just around the curve as he neared the top that he didn't notice.

Just as the path leveled out, almost to the finish line, he glanced back to see no sign of his dog. The tree was a few feet away when a furry mass ambushed him from the side, knocking him clean off his feet. The pro hero landed in the grass with a heavy Oof. Sitting on his chest was Mighty, looking quite proud of herself.

"Cheater!" He laughed, trying his best to hold back the slobbery licks she was determined to give him. "Okay, okay, I'll call it a tie!"

 Katsuki Bakugo

Now Katsuki on the other hand would totally be a cat person. Not that he has anything against dogs, but cats are more his style. They don't need constant attention and are pretty much self-sufficient. Just the way he likes it.

That being said, Katuski would go all out on toys and the latest gizmos to take care of his cat. Has a self-cleaning litter box, a waterfall bowl, an automatic feeder, etc. You get the picture.

Oh, and toys galore. If he has space, this cat is getting a personal jungle gym that lets him walk up to the ceiling. S.P.O.I.L.E.D.

Doesn't like to tell people just how much he actually loves this cat because he's never been one to express emotions, but this cat just gets him to his core. They share the same wavelength and he appreciates that. The cat is the only one he trusts to open up to, so sometimes you might catch him ranting to the poor thing who just stares back with big wide eyes and occasional meows. Yup, totally gets him.

I see him with a super chill cat, like maybe a Ragdoll or a Russian Blue. Something that tolerates his constant screaming and explosions.

This guy is just as bad at names. It'll definitely be something long and dramatic like Lord Cat Explosion Demon God of Furballs. Yep. He doesn't take criticism so most people call him Lord Furballs, much to his disdain.

Katsuki won't ask for attention from the cat, but the little furry feline is a total cuddler and will often find itself curled up in his lap or even on his neck if Katsuki's sitting on the couch. You better believe this guy won't be moving until that cat decides it's time to move. He's been late to meetings with friends because of this cuddly cat.

He's a hero so this cat is definitely being treated right. Katuski is no slacker when it comes to caring for his lil buddy. The vet is on speed dial should anything ever happen.

Did someone say a custom-made collar that matches his hero costume to a tee?

He's never loved anything more.

 ...

"Uh, hey Bakubro, why is your cat glaring at me?" Ejiro asked, staring down at the feline.

"What?" Katsuki didn't even bother to look up from his laptop.

"Your cat. It's giving me the evil eye. I thought it was supposed to be friendly." The red-haired hero frowned, not able to break eye contact with the cat. "I don’t think it likes me."

The small furry creature had lazily curled up in the sunspot next to Katsuki's feet, purring away without a care in the world. It seemed harmless enough, except for the heavy glare it was shooting Ejiro's way.

"Heh," Katsuki finally glanced down and crossed his arms. "He's not glaring. That's just his face."

"Ah," Ejiro nodded, "like father like son."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean!?"

Taglist: @thecindy @peachsenpie @awilddreamerwrites @miriobaby @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567 @justscar @kenmaskitten10 @freckledoriya

[theliterateape]

We Killed Jason Todd

By Matt Markman

In 1988 my friends and I killed a kid.

He was just a boy really. We had help it wasn’t just me and my pals. there were adults involved, lots of them. I mean we were young we were just thirteen and really couldn’t comprehend the ramification of our actions, the adults knew what they were doing. I’m painting it to sound way more sinister than it was, and in today’s society, wouldn’t trend on Twitter but maybe in the ’80s, it was probably considered quite ominous.

To set your mind at ease, it was Jason Todd. You know, Batman's sidekick, The Boy Wonder, Robin—well, the second Robin anyways. And I helped kill him.

I was big into comic books but my favorite was, The Dark Knight, The Caped Crusader, The Batman… He donned the best costume, he had all the money and was the most intelligent of all the superheroes. That last trait right there, the fact that he was considered a superhero and he had no actual super powers made him cooler than the other side of the pillow. You know how The Big Bang Theory has convinced the world it’s an Emmy-winning sitcom worth watching? I think it’s the fact that Batman was someone any one of us could actually be. Sure we needed to start with a base coat of genius followed by a splash of handsome billionaire playboy then train overseas in martial arts for several years, but if you had those things you, too, could be a vigilante. You ask me today and I'd stand by the fact that Batman would beat Superman in a fight, say ten out of ten times. This is not debatable because super beings from another planet are not real.

My favorite thing about Batman, though, is his ability to balance out good and evil. He spawned one of the greatest comic book villains and fictional characters ever created, The Joker. They have tried and tried again but in my opinion never got close to the Clown Prince of Crime—maybe Negan from The Walking Dead, he's pretty ruthless. The Joker is what would happen if a stand-up comedian became a criminal mastermind, so basically the plot of the 2019 film Joker.

My love for Joker made sense because growing up I was always more into the bad guys than the good guys. Watching and playing with G.I.Joe, I was always on the side of Cobra Commander, the twins Tomax and Xamot, and Zartan because they were always more glamorous and eye-catching than the boring ass Joes. Just once, I’d like that “knowing is half the battle” part at the end of the cartoon to have been Storm Shadow giving us kids a tip on how to fuck up Shipwreck and his stupid Parrot. Megatron, Skeletor, Shredder, Mumm-ra…

The list goes on, but the antagonists always resonated with me. they had a much better and more intriguing agenda than the good guys did. I know that wasn't the purpose, we were supposed to cheer on the good guys, like the idea of saving the world and all, but the mayhem… It’s like Alfred Pennyworth said, “Some men just want to watch the world burn.” It’s odd because the bad guys in my life were real, the bullies and I didn't like them at all. They tormented me daily unprovoked because I was short and had big ears. Perhaps my love for the dark side stemmed for my desire to be on that side because in real life there was no Superman swooping in to rescue me from the clutches of Lex Luthor. 

There were two sides, and good had a lack of champions looking out for the weaker, smaller good guys. The bad guys in my neighborhood, well, they were real and never really foiled and more importantly, they always got the girl in the end. Fuck the good guys!

My admiration for evildoers achieving their agenda was tested in 1988, Batman was running a four-part series called A Death in the Family. It was your typical Batman arc. Somehow, The Joker was going to get the upper hand on The World’s Greatest Detective only to be bested in the end by Batman. But this time, the third comic decided to do something nobody had never seen in the industry. The writers were going to give the fans the opportunity to decide where they were going to go with the story, only it was an option between two different roads, one quite unconventional. Apparently a few years earlier, one of the writers, Dennis O'Neil, had seen a sketch they did on SNL where Eddie Murphy held up a Lobster—Larry the Lobster—and was asking viewers to decide whether Larry was boiled and eaten or was to be set free. The choices were offered in the form of two phone numbers both costing fifty cents a call. One number was a vote for him to be freed and the other number was a vote for Larry to be murdered, smothered in butter, and devoured by Axel Foley. Ultimately, after nearly 500,000 calls, the people voted for Larry the lovable lobster to be pardoned with a 12,000 call margin. The popularity of this bit intrigued O'Neil and A few years later he decided to implement it in his Death in The Family storyline.

In the third book, The Joker had taken Batman's sidekick, the Boy Wonder, hostage. He’d beaten him bloody with a crowbar leaving a cliffhanger to be wrapped up in the fourth book. The last page of the comic was full page and at the top read in true ’80s Do the Right Thing fashion: “Robin will die because The Joker wants revenge, but you can prevent it with a telephone call!” They even phrased it to steer you down the hero’s path, like you can literally be Batman with one phone call. Underneath the imploring verbiage were two numbers, dial one number; The Joker fails and Robin lives, Batman would once somehow saves the day. However, call this other number and The Joker succeeds and Robin dies. Gruesomely.

Wow! They were going to let the fans decide the fate of Robin, really this was one of my earliest introductions to a reality voting competition type show. In my opinion, it was a bad idea. Robin was always the worst. Go back and read through an adventure or two involving Jason Todd and tell me he wasn't always whiney and bellyaching. He was never going to be iconic or cool like Bruce Wayne or even his predecessor Dick Grayson—the first Robin. See, Dick got pissed off, decided he was tired of being in Batman's shadow, ditched the Robin costume, threw on a black blue and gold costume, moved to another city and became Nightwing. Dick was a go getter, ambitious. Grayson’s Robin was a winner, Todd's Robin was an irritating little bitch; he was not an innocent lobster.

I went to my mother and asked if I could make a call that was going to cost just fifty cents and I would pay her back or she could just take it out of my allowance. She wanted to know what it was for and mostly wanted to confirm it wasn't for an adult sex line, which costs more than fifty cents a minute, but that’s a different story. It was nothing as tawdry as phontercourse, I just wanted to help murder an annoying teenage sidekick. My mother response was “Oh, yeah, that’s fine.”

I think after it was exposed that it wasn't phone sex anything else I said went in one ear and out the other, surely she didn't think I was actually voting for a plucky comic book sidepiece to be murdered by The Joker. So that’s what I did. I cast my vote along with a majority of DC comic book fans that shared my detest for the boy wonder. Ten thousand votes were recorded with a narrow margin going to Robin dying. I think the writers never suspected that fans would go that route.

O’Neal himself voted for Robin’s stay of execution. A man of his word, Batman issue #429 was released and Robin was killed by The Joker in an explosion and we were to blame for it. Sad to say but you give a bunch of comic book nerds the power I think it would go bad every time. That day we were all proud to be The Joker's henchmen. I felt like a soldier at the end of Star Wars cheering madly while The Joker received his metal shouting, “I helped that happen!”

So many shows these days embrace our fascination with the anti-hero with the success of The Sopranos, The Shield, Breaking Bad, hell Narcos had me rooting for Pablo Escobar—Pablo fucking Escobar. I wouldn't say I was a bad person growing up. Quite the contrary, I was a shy nerd with no power to do anything but pick my books up after they were smacked to the ground. What I’m saying is don't give me the power to make important life or death decisions with your franchise because myself and the other dorks will have the bodies of Orko, Snarf, and Jimmy Olson lying in a shallow grave, just tell me what number to dial… or text.

Matt started performing standup comedy in 2004 in Las Vegas and is now a regular at every major comedy club on the Las Vegas strip. He released his first comedy album in 2016 titled Uncut available on iTunes. More about Matt and his upcoming appearances can be found on MattMarkman.com.

[katsuflossy]

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Dabi x reader

WC: 2.3k

TW: Detailed parental abuse, detailed description of a mental episode, obscenities, mention of arranged marriage

A/n: ngl all of this is severely overdue but the recent chapter made my creative juices flow so here we are! Please enjoy💖

Taglist: @melanimed @mixfi @mythiccheroacademia @myhoodacademia @mypimpademia @ecao @strawberry-ice @plutropica @photosbyameil @lunabby010 @iiminibattlehero​ @sleepysheepkiara​

The air was crisp, dark, and cold, what one had expected for the autumn night. Only a few patrons roamed the streets in the twilight. Those that wander under the streetlight had their eyes crossed, mind buzzed, and hand full of one final drink due to being kicked out of the bars. The ladies of the kingdom stayed within the comfort of their homes. They laid around the compassion of their loves or their families, only knowing of the horrors of the outside through gossip. The most recent urban legend paced through the streets with a scowl fixed on his face. Azure eyes glowed danger through the darkness, never revealing the coat-clad scarred body until passing under the street lights. The drunks waddled out of Dabi’s way, feeling the rolls of anger off of him from a twenty-meter radius. For once, the fire quirk wielder ignored the low bastards, never smirking as they cowered in fear nor sparking their shoes afire, laughing as they tried to put them out. No, his mind was occupied, fist clenching and unclenching in the pocket of his coat. Thoughts of past and future overwrote each other in his brain, creating a void of black in his mind. His own psyche started to turn on him again, knowing what’s about to happen would risk many lives. However, Dabi cared only about two lives-- his own and yours.

Like God gave him a sign, he passed the alleyway of a sweet memory. Running away from authority was his regular schedule since the age of 11 but he was close to getting caught one day. Caught but cunning, Dabi held you, hostage, by the neck. The little blue flame from his finger close to searing the flesh of your cheek as he backed into the dark alleyway, away from the entire police force out front. He dragged you through numerous yards before you begged him to stop, hands on your knees as you gulped for air. Glowing eyes stared at the ruby necklace that swang from your neck, almost daring him to try to take it. The second his fingertips could graze the jewel you slapped him away, grip tight on the chain and a fire in your eyes.

“You could take anything from me—shit even the pads of my shoes if you want—but I don’t want you to take this. Here, I’m sure the ring will cost more.” You glided the ring off your hand before offering it to Dabi.

Confused couldn’t even describe Dabi’s thoughts at that moment. Are you really offering a lowlife scum precious jewels? With a smile on your face?

“Are you demented?” The tilt of your lips turned down into a scowl. A haughty hmph passed your nostrils as you looked away from the criminal.

“You were stealing from Greggley’s pawn shop. The same bastard that swindles townsfolk out of their money and rats out people to the police for a living. I’d pay to see that fear on his face again when you ran off with me and his pile of stolen goods. So here’s my payment.” Dabi cautiously took the sapphire ring from your palm. The situation was ironic, he seemed more fearful than you. Cyan eyes watched as the dust on your outfit disappeared by the pats and sweeps of your hands before jumping up. You stayed rocking from the heels of your feet to the soles, eyes waiting expectantly on the chilled man to say something. Instead, his eyes bored straight into yours, deadpanned as he occasionally averted his gaze from the entrance of the deep alley, then back to you. The shouts of police guards had left from long ago; the sounds of their frantic pace went far off into the distance. Yet, you remained in this cramped space with him.

It unnerved him to no end.

“Well, your highness, your mutts went the other way to look for you. You can scurry away now,” He questioned his words. Why is he letting you go so easily? You were a perfect hostage. Just by your yelp, he could have your father in his palms, an important piece to the league’s ultimate plan. The smile on your face didn’t ease his confusion at all. His eyes burned with irritation, upset by your cheerful demeanor.

“Oi, are you fucking braindead? I said scram,” Your face dropped, forming a pout before pulling into a smile again. Dabi felt his eye twitch as you began to chuckle. His hand igniting blue flames as he stepped towards you. You put your hands up into the chilly air.

“Woah now, I’m just saying I could be of more use, Mr. Criminal.” The heat dissipated from his hand. His eyes looked as cold as marbles but within his head, he roamed over the possibilities, how and why should he trust you. Dabi was never a gambler, always a mouse wary of traps but today, he felt lucky. The once fiery hand laid out before you, staples glinting in the dim lighting.

“Dabi,” his eyes roamed over your face, noticing the crinkles at the corner of your eyes never softening, the gleam in your eyes shining more than before. You were actually happy.

“You already know my last name but that’s unimportant right now. The name’s (Y/n).”

The memory cleared away like smoke, reminding Dabi of his mission now. His hand clenched around nothing, his fist tight to relieve the searing anger in his chest. He imagined burning Shigaraki over and over, enveloping in the heat of his wrath as punishment for putting him on this mission.

Red beady eyes looked at Dabi in nonchalance, ignoring the smoke rising from his scarred hand.

“We built our whole organization on this end goal. We are one step closer to annihilating these ‘heroes’ and you’re rejecting this offer? Over some little noble mole?” the insult adding more fuel to Dabi’s rage and fire. His flames barely reached Tomura before being engulfed into another dimension thanks to Kurogiri’s interference. Unrelenting glares fixed at each other. Even then Shigaraki continued.

“I’m not saying it again. Either you do your job and save your blue-blood or they die by our hands.”

His eye pulsed; an ache coiled around his nape to his temple. His own anger throbbed in his head and blindsided his mind. He could add Shigaraki to his body count but your life, to him, was paramount. He withdrew his fire, recollecting himself before shoving his hands into his pockets. He surveyed the room, eyes scanning all the league in disdain; the others avoided his intense gaze. The gravel crunched under his heavy boots as he stomped out of the hideout.

Shigaraki’s threats echoed through Dabi’s head, anger already swelling at the thought of his red eyes as Dabi reached the edge of your house. The whirls of wind carried his coat in their stream, pulling the fabric all about. The walls of dark stone contrasted the warm yellow lights of your not-so-humble but welcoming abode. Dabi only knew the layout of your room but whenever he’s in there, there were hardly any lights from behind your bedroom door, just the occasional shuffling of the maids.

He halted his thoughts, pressing his foot against a jutted brick before hopping on to another. His movements were smooth and familiar as if he had perfected this route. He sat on the window’s stony ledge, fingers rapting against its pane, staring into the night as he waited on you to open the window panel.

Meanwhile, you were balled up in a corner, fingernails creating welts on your skin. Still, the stinging pain didn’t distract you from the taste of iron in your mouth, the phantom feeling of blunt rings on your cheek. Your silent cries shook you to your core, sharp inhales forced your weeping to stop, only for them to return again. All crying ceased once you heard knocking on your window, the same three raps then two softer taps only known to two. A familiar rhythm, one that closely relates to the song you made the criminal danced to during one night at a pub. The precious memory was unable to soothe the paranoia of your mind right now. A hitch in your breath paused all noises in your little quarter. If you stopped breathing, maybe he’d think no one was home. You ultimately stopped breathing only for harsher rapping to strike against your window.

On shaky legs, you stood up, swiping off any trails of tears and snot from your face. The cold air greeting you swung open the window for Dabi, who immediately hopped into the warm comb. He barely skimmed over your appearance before asking.

“What the fuck happened to you?” His hand came up to your swollen cheek; an obvious insignia marked the skin. You didn’t flinch away, instead, you wet your lips, pressing more into his palm. His hands were chilly from the cold outside but the contact warmed your entire body.

“I can’t do it anymore, Dabi.” A broken whisper escaped your lungs. Tears bled through your closed eyes, wetting Dabi’s thumb as he swiped a lone one away. He stood still, billions of thoughts jumbling in his mind as you bawled into his chest. Should he do this? On this night? Your well-being and the league’s plan fought for his attention. Every thought of his mission drowned by the sight of the insignia on your face.

“(Y/n), what the fuck did he do to you?” His shirt crumpled within your hands as you contemplated telling him the truth.

Nobody expected your father, an honorary Knight-Captain, to abuse his only child. It took one loose-lipped servant to say that you were seeing a commoner man in the kingdom for him to wrap his hands around your throat. You remember your body flailing, the coldness of your cheeks as tears fell from your bulging eyes. He dropped you by your mother’s cold command. As you gulped for any type of air she told you to stand. Her patience grew thin quickly as she ripped you off of the ground, your legs nearly collapsing from the force. A shroud of care she put herself under, letting her adorned knuckles skim across your cheekbones as she talked about your fate. You're being shipped off to marry the highest knight family, the Todorokis. Enjirou, commander of the Kingsguard, sought after you for his son, Natsuo Todoroki, for months. Your inappropriate actions caused your arranged marriage to arrive quicker. Her veil lifted, and in an instant, she whipped her hand across your face, the blow smacking your staggering body to the side. Their eyes entertained at your cry. She fixed her rings as she declared your fate. House arrest until the Todorokis picked up their new toy. They left you on the ground, weeping until Dabi arrived.

Stammers and hiccups escaped your lips instead of comprehensible words. His shirt crumpled under the intensity of your grip. In that time, Dabi had gathered all the information needed. The look in his eyes was unreadable as he loosened your constriction on his clothes, fingers interlacing in between your shaky digits. A shadow cast over his face as he talked to you.

“(Y/n),” your eyes dull and lost, you were wrapped up in your own severed psyche. A finger on your chin, he guided you to meet his eyes.

“Let me fix this,” It wasn’t a duel, but warfare that unfolded in his headspace as he asked, begged for your permission. You barely felt yourself nod before seeing the flame reignited in Dabi’s eyes. The smile on his face grew like a wildfire, nearly meeting the staples under his eyes. He left your numb body with a soft peck and a willful promise before walking, for the first time, out your bedroom door. Muted footsteps sounded miles away even though he left the door wide open. When did you end up on the ground, scraped knees meeting the plush of your rug, though you did not feel it? The warmth of the room dissipated from the air, goosebumps rising along your skin. Your body could only focus on one sense at a time, tuning into the sounds around you. Though muffled, you could hear the guttural screaming coming from rooms away. The cries formed into pleas before morphing back into incomprehensibility. Whether your body was protecting you from further trauma or not, your audible sense shut off only to look at the smeared blood all over your rug. Your ears never picked up on your outcry, pushing your diaphragm, but Dabi’s did.

He sprinted back to your room immediately, leaving his fires to completely consume your parents and lick at the foundations of the walls. His black coat draped over your body before he lifted you into his arms. The hungry fire now satiated, he left the same way he entered but with now, with you within his arms.

He knows what he did wrong, rubbing salt into your traumatic wounds, but he had a mission to do. He held your trembling body closer to his lithe frame. The league finally made their first step to instigating chaos but that did not matter right now. Dashing through the alleyways, he took a look into your blank eyes, cast away into another realm. The sounds of the Knights fighting against your burning house faded as he ran. He rested his forehead against yours, eyes squeezing shut as he made another promise to you.

“No one will ever tear us apart. I don’t care if this whole place burns to the ground. Just know you are the only one that matters. It’ll just be me and you at the end. Whatever it takes to get there.”

[thr-333]

Mismatch- Part 16

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

When everyones dates go very well

First< Previous > Next

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“Thanks for dropping us off,” Marion slides out Selina's car, Kagami and Chloe following, “We couldn’t take the same route as them,”

“I’d be disappointed if you did,” Selina teases, with an edge of seriousness.

“Thank you,” Kagami chimes in, getting waved off by Selina as she and Chloe leave to hunt down the targets.

“So you’re going to tell him?” Marion whispers through the open window.

“Yep,” She sighs, tightening grip on the steering wheel, “We’re going to go on a date of out own, completely romantic, then ruin the evening,”

“You really think he’s going to be mad?” Marion cringes, getting a reassuring smile.

“At me,” She clarifies, “Don’t you worry he’ll be thrilled to have more kids,”

Marion holds back a laugh at her exasperated tone, “Have fun,”

“I won’t,” Selina assures, throwing back a, “Have fun,”

“I will,” Marion grins, spying on the totally-not-a-date between two disasters will be nothing but entertaining.

Marion waves at the leaving car before jogging to catch up with the girls. Staying slightly behind to watch them try and talk about plants. Chloe trying to sound more intelligent than ‘look at the pretty flower’, not that Kagami would mind. He resists the urge to drags his fingers through the leaves of ferns and vines as they walk down the winding paths of the botanical garden. Too many times has he touched plant life only for it to wither and die later, a side effect of holding his miraculous too long. So he always made sure Marinette is around to counteract the bad luck.

The urge gets easier to resist as they enter a more open garden area, filled with flower patches and green grass. Probably the cleanest place in Gotham likely thanks to a certain rouge that would hunt you down for littering here. He spots the two lovebirds and directs the girls to a nearby tree well suited for hiding behind as they spy on the little picnic Adrien has set up, in a grassy patch surrounded by flowers.

“Oh my god,” Chloe groans, “How can they be such idiots?”

“Can we just tell them?” Kagami asks irritably, not for the first time.

“No, let their relationship take its natural course,” Marion scolds, not for the first time.

“Do you think they’re going to be just as slow when they’re together?” Chloe complains more than asks, “Will they ever get married?”

“Are you kidding?” Marion scoffs, “The day after they get together someones going to propose,”

“Probably both,” Kagami predicts, watching as they both fumble over something.

“Probably,” Marion and Chloe both agree, as the fumbled object gets dropped.

“Well, hey there!” a high pitch voice shouts through their whispering, “Who’re we spying on?”

Marion whips around coming nose to nose with Harley Quinn herself. He takes a step back to see Poison Ivy standing just behind.

“Um…” Marion debates going for his baton, they didn’t seem hostile but they don’t need to be to cause damage, “Our friends date?”

“Ohhh!” Harley stands on her tiptoes to look over their heads, “Aren't they just precious?!”

“Yes,” Ivy agrees to Harley’s goo-goo eyes despite not having looked over once.

“Let's go say hi,” Harley links her arms with Marion and Chloe’s dragging them over to the picnic.

“What are you doing here!” Marinette shouts as soon as they approach, seemingly more surprised at them than the two rogues.

“I caugh’em spyin on ya and decided to drop in,” Harley releases them and sits down, “This looks delicious!”

Harley takes a cookie from a plate, eyes lighting up when she takes a bite. Marion locks eyes with Marinette as confused as him. It only gets worse when Ivy sits down as well, on the grass not the blanket. Well it’s not like he can just leave. Marion shrugs and sits down, immediately reaching over to steal from Marinette's plate, ignoring the plates around him.

“Sooo,” Harley hums partly around a mouthful of cake, rocking back with legs crossed, “What’s ya names,”

“Marinette, that's Marion,” Marinette hisses his name, as she tries to snatch back half a sandwich.

“Oh! Brucie’s kids!” Harley claps her hands together, “You’re the Wayne twins!”

“Uhhh…” Yes? No? Kinda? Soon? It’s up to him?

“No they're not,” Kagami takes a seat following Chloe, “It’s just a baseless rumour,”

“Yep!” Marion agrees way to loudly, “A completely baseless rumours, no fact here, nope,”

The look he gets from Marinette is expected, but it’s Chloe’s lingering gaze that really gets to him.

“I like what you’ve done with the flowers,” Marinette covers for him, alerting him that Poison Ivy had made many more bloom.

“I didn’t do much,” Ivy says, even as the grass around her is a couple inches taller than it used to be, “They already wanted to bloom so bright at seeing you,”

“Really?” Marinette sweat drops, reaching for her bag, “I do have a bit of a green thumb, I take care of a garden back home,”

“What wonderful things do you grow?” Ivy asks with keen interest, Adrien off to the side looking awestruck at Marinette’s composure.

“She’ll be takin all day now,” Harley spins towards the three other date crashers, “I didn’t hear your names!”

Chloe and Kagami startle as she leans further into their personal space.

“Surely if you’ve heard of the twins you’ve heard of me,” Chloe flips her hair, only getting a blank face from Harley, huffing, “Chloe Bourgeois,”

“Kagami,” She replies curtly, “Marion doesn't appreciate date crashing,”

“It’s alright Kags,” Marion assures, he more had a problem with having to hold her back from yelling at them both when they didn't kiss after fireworks.

“Ohhhh, are you two dating,” Harley stage whispers, making Chloe choke on her drink.

“No not at all,”

“Just friends,”

And not friends in the Adrien Agreste way.

“Ew gross you two dating?” Chloe cringes, “Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

“Oh! Then you two!” Harley exclaims, addressing the girls.

“Umm…”

“Well I….”

“Yes,”

“Rion!” Chloe yells, blushing furiously at his shit eating grin.

“Well let me give you some advice,” Harley sing songs, a not so subtle glance back at Ivy.

“I don’t think that's necessary-”

“Hush now,” She shushes Kagami, “So when you're on a date and some bozo tries interrupting, there's this nifty thing you can do with certain nerves-Or! If you have the tools, a good whack upside the head-Or! My favourite! You get your gun and…”

Marion shifts away, still keeping Chloe and Kagami in his sights, both completely red.

“-And I planted this one three years ago,” Marinette explains, letting Ivy hold her phone, eyes glued to whatever picture was on it, “I know they tend to like partial shade but I found this one prefers to be more in the sun, so I just move it on especially sunny days,”

“Your garden is brilliant they all look so-” Her gaze snaps up to Marion, making him freeze in place, “They do not like you,”

“Um,” It takes a second to realise she was talking about the plants, “I guess not, the plants at home like me,”

“Do they?” Ivy frowns, and Marion desperately hopes she likes Marinette enough to not attack him.

“Well, we have a catnip plant that does,” Or at least Plagg likes it enough to do his best not to let anything, even himself, destroy it.

“You do?” Ivy turns to Marinette, who starts talking about the plant.

Marion takes this opportunity to escape back into the conversation they were having with Harley-

“And if you really want to have fun in bed you can-” Nope never mind.

Marion stands, considers bringing Adrien along to find some more snacks for their bigger group. But he seemed just as enthralled with Marinette as Ivy is with plants. He walks off waving to Marinette as she looks over to check on him. He smiles at the silent desperate pleads for help Chloe and Kagami give him. With a bounce in his step Marion walks off.

He didn’t even realise he had left them alone with two rouges until he was halfway through the gardens. Whatever. Marinette could handle them and they both seemed friendly enough, if not very polite. If they wanted to crash a date he can think of another person that would rather it happen to them.

“So the twins got out of hospital yesterday,” yes because that's a good way to bring up the topic of your illegitimate children to their out of the loop father.

“That’s fast,” Translated means; I’m suspicious.

“Did you look into those Paris heroes?” No she isn’t stalling not at all, this is important.

“I did, they’ve been working mostly alone for years,” Bruce scowls, picking at his food “I don’t know how the league hasn’t heard about this,”

“Didn’t Marion say this Ladybug person fixes everything?” Selina hums, she had been to Paris and never saw anything, they couldn't be that good could they?

"Is that what he meant?" Bruce looks up at her genuinely puzzled.

Selina hides her smirk behind her wine, which she desperately needed for this conversation. She had forgotten not everyone could understand their babbling. Not even Bruce, yet. She merely hums in response, before taking a gulp of wine.

“I plan on contacting her,” Bruce admits out loud, their secluded rooftop table ensuring privacy, “Did they say anything more to you?”

“They’ve had some other things on their mind lately,” She doesn't meet his eye, so they were back to this topic, great.

“Post traumatic stress?” Bruce guesses, she wished- wait no- that's not good.

Selina would rather do this a hundred times over than have her kids suffer like that. Fortunately they didn't seem to be. Which could be concerning in its own right.

“No, actually, they seem completely unaffected by a near death experience,” Selina sighs, they should be right? Thats normal for regular people right? Well they weren't normal, mainly because of the man sitting across from her, who needed to know that, “Just like their father,”

“Tom?” of-fucken-course he had to make this harder, no she will not admit she was purposefully vague.

“No,” Selina feels the anxiety in her chest choke her, “You,”

And nope that last word only made it worse.

“... What?” Bruce pauses, fork still in mid air.

“You,” She places her empty glass down, the clink hitting the table deafening.

“... Selina, what are you saying,” Bruce lowers the fork, halfway between a scowl and suspicion.

“I mean we’ve been at it for years is it really that surprising?” Selina tries to play off, joking tone not overshadowing her panic.

“Selina,” Theres that stern tone, paired with the signature Bat glare.

“... They’re your kids, our kids,” Selina corrects, making sure to meet his eye. No tricks this time.

She lets the silence hang, studying Bruce's face. At first you can clearly tell he's trying to keep a mask on, but it cracks bit by bit. She sees confusion, realisation, panic, anger, disappointment all over lapping. Swirling together repeating over and over again until settling on anger.

“Why didn’t you tell me!” He explodes, pushing her off the ledge she had been on all day, or the last couple days, or hell for eighteen goddamn years.

“Because you-you’re-” She fumbles, so many reasons, mainly relating to Bats in some way, but that wasn't the main reason, “You said you didn’t want kids!”

“You never told me I already had kids!" The realisation hits Selina that he remembers.

If it was just now, or he had for years. He remembered the night she had asked if he wanted a family. He had said no. That he couldn't. That he had a responsibility to the city. So she had left. Not daring to see him when she was pregnant and not wanting to see him afterwards. The next time she saw Bruce he had just adopted a child.

“What would you have done! Huh?!” A child who a year later was chasing criminals around Gotham, “Would you quit? Would you dress them up too and make them fight crime!? I sent them to Paris to avoid that!”

“You know full well I never made them do anything!” Maybe not on purpose, but they do a whole lot for his approval.

“Their kids Bruce! You should have never let them join you out there!” She rants, pacing away from the table.

She gave them up so they would never join her either. Although with how much Marion likes cats he would surely love his own cat suit.

“How would you know what would happen?” Bruce demands, keeping pace with her, dragging his hands through his hair, “I-god- I hadn't even adopted Dick yet and you wrote me off!”

“ Exactly , do you really think you could have raised them!” Dick's his argument for good parenting? Better than Jason.

“Maybe I wanted to!” Bruce yells, anger crumbling, he collapses onto a love seat looking over the city, “Maybe I wanted to raise at least one of my children,”

“I know,” Selina tentatively sits on the chairs arm, reaching over to him, “But they deserved a chance to live without all this ,"

She vaguely gestures to the city and partly to Bruce. Who looks offended at his inclusion.

"They’ve been in Gotham a week Bruce," She slides into the seat, arguing her point before he has the chance, "And they have the press after them, villains attacking, they just got out the hospital ,”

“Hm,” Bruce looks out at the city, not really seeing any of it. “They really are like me huh,”

“Without a doubt,” She gets a slight tug at the lips from Bruce, completely humourless.

They fall silent Bruce looking out at the city. She studies his expression, less of a world wind of emotion now but certainly still in turmoil. He starts to fix his mask back in place, she looks away so he doesn't have to. Looking out at the view they were meant to be enjoying on their date. One that she had planned. Bruce was never going to trust her to plan one again. Or at least he will always be expecting her to spring shocking news on him.

“What do you want to do now?” She asks the question she has wondered for years.

Whenever they were alone and things were calm, unnervingly calm for Gotham. She had thought of telling him. Partly because the calm alarms her, in a life of chaos she felt out of place in it. It would be the perfect way to bring the storm. While cats tended to hate water she has been an alley cat all her life, the calm was meant for house cats. However, thats what the other part of her wanted. For that calm to stay, but to include their kids. Who always sat at the edge of that calm, threatening to ruin it never letting her settle into it. Maybe that was why she could never enjoy it. Maybe now that they were in the storm, the next calm would be with the two of them.

“... I don’t know,” a rarity for the Batman, more common for the man underneath.

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