#it’s interesting !!!! I wanna write a fic about it

[vanya-evergreen]

𝑆𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘！

Hi, just wanted to give a little quick sneak peek on my Royal! reader X Batfamily fic, because I realized it's been a while since I've posted any writing stuff and I wanna make sure people will stay interested! it's sort of a retelling of the concept, but there's going to be new things added in and longer

You can read concept here.

𝐼𝑛ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝐹𝑙𝑒𝑠ℎ

taglist! - @camilo-uwu @vanilliona @thegirlinrainbowsworld

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑖𝑛 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑙𝑒－

𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 1 （𝑆𝑛𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑘 ）

The world had decided long ago that nothing goes without effect, good, bad, and indifferent. Every action and every motion will have an equal effect. This is the philosophy that was shoved down your throat since you could understand it. So why did you have such a big Effect?

The taps of rain on the roof was the loudest sound in the room. Sitting Idlily on the edge of the bed, your eyes stayed glued to the fire flickering in front of you. The brilliant light reflects in your eyes as it dances freely, but the fire is not the real point of your focus, no you are too lost in your mental prison. You force yourself to relive the memories and feelings, just to occupy your time. Your eyes can’t help but drift to the newspapers chaotically scattered across the floors; “Tyranny’s Last Remnant’ is what the newspapers had dubbed you.

The media had spent the months since your family’s imprisonment to tear you down ruthlessly. They say that you still lead a life of luxury and opulence because you weren’t punished like the rest of your family. Your eyes snap back to the fire, letting go of the breath stuck in your throat. you fall limply back onto the bed, as it creaks. The room around you was not a good reflection on in light of the accusation against you but you had no control of the room.

You wanted to hate the new place that you are meant to call home, but you couldn't even utter a complaint about it. You let these thoughts drift to the back of your mind. They weren’t nearly as loud as your memories.

You are stuck in a never ending cycle of self reflection that comes with your predicament. Maybe if your were more honest maybe you could see that you put yourself there. Everything you around is nothing but static. Your hands desperately grasp for the sheets of the bed, you no longer can feel them. Your mind races as your breathes grow shallow and slow. A sinking feeling takes over your body as your consciousness fades. You are sent off in your memories as the rain and fire grow into nothing but a quiet whisper.

When you come back to awareness, you no longer feel sheets of silk covering a plush mattress on your back, nor are you surrounded by the high walls of your room. Rather rounded stones of a river banks press in to your back as steady streams of spring water wash over you. When you open your eyes, you find that the water is not clear but rather unearthly cosmic colors whirling around as they rush over you and the stones are not a soothing gray but a chilling black, with your skies and ground bleeding into each other making them one in the same.

An empty laugh escapes your lips echoing in the empty space you always find yourself in, you want to feel something more but you felt too tired. All you can do is recall, back to the times when if you had even barely uttered of a complain it was dealt before you could even think again. You were pacified with gifts, territories, and new subjects to learn about. This was expected with being a royal, as your family had put it. They had found solace from their so-called stressful lives among material possessions, and it seemed as you would have to as well. You were always grateful for the lessons and gifts, but never once had they actually filled your deepest desire. Your deepest craving,

unconditional familial love. You yearned for it, yet it never came

You are ripped from your thoughts as a coldness washes over you. no longer surrounded by streams of spring water running over your almost lifeless body, you feel specs of snow and hell slowly beginning to cover you consuming you and your entirety as you fall deeper into the memory.

Echos of muffled hiccups and sniffles bounced off of the empty sumptuous palace halls. A child held they hands over their mouth, a weak attempt to silence their cries as they balled themselves up in the corner. They looked no older than 5, yet the way their face felt like they had seen the worst atrocities in this world could make you think other wise. You recognized the eyes without fail, it was you. You recognize this day, too. This horrid day.

Bells tolled in the distance startling you out of your ‘daydream’, not that they were in your mind to begin with. You didn’t move from your corner, you never wanted to move again. Your sobs becomes quieter as your tears dried, the bells continued on as servants rushed back and forth past you. They never once looked your way, as you lifted your eyes from your knees. They all looked panicked about something. Talking in quick whispers, they mumbled about ‘must find’ and an ‘heir’. You kept quiet as about a dozen more passed you, not even sparring a glance to you.

Eventually you got bored of the Methodic foot steps of the passer-by, you rested your head against the windows as the whispers and foot steps become distant as the bells finish their final course of rings. Back then, you thought it was funny how the bells still rang even well after the turn of the hour. Normally it was saved for the founders day and the rulers birthday; now you wish you had ran back then.

You had settled back into your abyss of deafening silence; staring out the window with distant eyes as the snow waltzed down from the cloudy skies above, but a looming figure watched you from a distance. You had become a perspective child, you felt their eyes on you when they first started staring. You didn’t want to pay any mind to that, ‘maybe they will go away if I don’t look for them’ is what you thought. The figure never looked away, the presence of the stare only grew more intensely focused on your unmoved figure.

You hadn’t move to look at the figure, you were lost in your thoughts, but the burning sensation intensified in your chest and began to crawl in to your hand and up your throat you knew they had drew closer to you. You whipped your head around to the figure, finally giving to what you thought the they wanted.

“Hello” the figure, now more clearly a man, softly said to you, as he kneeled down to your eyes level with a soft smile etched on to his face with warm gaze that accompanied it.

You were taken back by the man’s soft demeanor, the burning in your body had disappear the moment you saw his eyes. “Hi…” you stumble over your words as you were still to focused on how warmth from his gaze felt so unfamiliar yet, you had never wanted something to continue more.

“I am Bruce Wayne.” He offer out a hand to you, and you to reached out to take it but stopped yourself from taking it. Oh, You remembered that name from a list your parents had educated you on. His eyebrow creased and his smile fell as you retracted your hand.“Are you okay?”

Your parents said that with him especially to be more mindful of your actions because he was very important to your family, they warned you of the effect you may have. You always abided by the philosophy your were taught. “Yes” you hurriedly standing up and greeted him with a shallow bow, try your best not to trip over your feet. “Excuse me for my response,” you held an even voice as you rose up from the bow, keeping a straight back. “I am _ __, it is my pleasure to meet you, Sir Bruce” He was richer then your family and held no official titles, the King and Queen had offered him a dukedom when his company had helped the empire through a drought, but he turned it down.

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well, your highness.” His smile returned quickly after you exchanged greetings. You gave him a look when he said ‘Your Highness’.

“I am sorry Sir Bruce, but I think you have addressed me wrong. I am not a child of a current or pervious monarch.” You politely corrected him. He looked put off by the correction, you hurried to correct your act “what I meant was-” you were stopped short by him

“No, it’s okay. It was my mistake.” He seemed to relax as he watched you stumble over your word like any five year old child should. “I seem to have confused honorifics once again," He laughs "I hope that you excuse me I am still new to society.” You couldn’t help but feel a small flames of kinship burn in your heart as he spoke.

“I am too!” You blurted, eyes glistened with a hint of excitement. “Today is my first official day in society, or that's what my mom said.”

“Oh really?” Bruce tilled his head, rubbing his chin as if he wasn’t aware of it “Why today?”

“I don’t know,” you voice became hushed. You hadn’t stopped to think about it for long, you were just a kid excited to see new people.

“Perhaps, we can figure it out together.” Bruce stood up and offered his hand to you once again. You stared at his hand, something in your little mind started to itch. You took his hand with out hesitation this time.

“I would like that.” You gave him a small smile as he lead you down the hall.

You and Bruce spent the better part of an hour talking about many things as you roam the cold palace grounds. You hadn’t even noticed the larger amount of guards pacing the halls looking for something, while they mutter about being punished for ‘losing someone’. You were too distracted by the feeling your heart and head screamed for you to focus solely on Bruce. You weren’t sure what it was then, but you never wanted to let it go.

He seemed impressed by your knowledge, you could see glints of fascination in his eyes, as it absorbed his mind. You were a well educated child, even at this age, as it seemed. He indulged you with many different topics, from the basics of favorite color and animal to astronomy, science and literature. It was bliss for you.

But it would end for you.

“What about your family?” Bruce’s question was innocent enough, any reasonable adult would ask about your family. “Are they looking for you?”

[papercutslut]

Ok I wanna write a fanfic for the first time in like 7 years but I'm having troubles figuring out which one I wanna write, so help me decide (and also as just a general interest check):

Stan and Ford freaking out because Mabel starts her first period. This'll be a hurt/comfort fluffy comedy fic, although it will not be shy about talking about the logistics of periods.

A 30 years earlier au fic, where Ford wakes up in the fearamid after the final portal test. This'll be Billford fluff with sinister undertones.

Pre betrayal, Bill and Ford start debating on the best way to prepare and cook a human thigh. The debate gets so heated that Bill challenges Ford to a cook off. More Billford fluff but it's dark comedy this time.

[barclaysangel]

Y'all remember the Junior and Nica at Lochmoor AU? And the Uncle Andy AU (where Jake is 8 years old and Junior is 3 and Andy basically has to take them in)

I've been having ideas for those AUs recently but I have 0 ideas on where to start if I want to write them. They're all random and scattered and frankly, I don't have time to fully write a oneshot or fic, school has been taking over just about everything.

So I have a question.

Would y'all be interested if I just made a headcanons list for both or either of those AUs? I just wanna make sure that there's people out there who wants it so I'm not writing for nothing lol.

Also, feel free to send asks about the AUs, questions that you have and I'll answer them as detailed as possible.

Thanks :)

[dressycobra7]

Another thought dump cause this chapter was so good!!!

— “The gleaming moonlight is suddenly much more brilliant…” the imagery for that whole paragraph is STUNNING! I can imagine it so perfectly in my mind with the way you describe it. Istg the way you describe things is pure art in and of itself

— “How? Is the first one your mind asks. Zeke, you reply, before discarding the idea.” I love that you added this in cause I’m betting a lot of people might’ve been questioning if it was Zeke too

— “You are a bit embarrassed of yourself when he gives you a small smile and your stomach flutters just as your cheeks heat up.” same Reader saaaame! I can imagine it so perfectly in my head too the little smile he gave us 🤭 got me giggling and shit

— ““Don’t pretend like you dont know me,” he says, further baffling you. “We both know way too much for that.”” so I’m guessing then based off that line that I was right to have guessed last chapter that it is due to his future memories that he knows Readers name. That’s so interesting and I’m curious to see Eren potentially tell Reader all about that and just see what he knows

— “Maybe you don't need to reweave a new tapestry just yet; maybe it's enough to only untangle the yarn.” AHHHHHHHH THE TAPESTRY LINE AGAIN!? it’s so gooooddd!!! I’m so happy you used that metaphor again! I love especially that you used it for this line here “…a loose thread will ultimately be pulled by an unknown force, sending you tumbling down once again.” It’s just such a good metaphor and I love the way you’ve been using it

— girl I don’t know why you were scared about writing the scouts wrong! I love the way you wrote Hange. I thought you captured her more… eccentric and dramatic (idk what other words to use) personality really well and I also loved how you wrote Levi’s distrust of the volunteers

— ““You will not be able to contact Eren, or any of the others for that matter, but we want the girl to come with us.”” oooo that’s interesting. I’m excited to see what they wanna do with Reader

Overall this was such a good and interesting chapter and I’m very curious to see what you have in store for us for the next one 💜

also I’m so happy to see this fic getting more attention! You deserve it with how absolutely phenomenal your writing is 💜

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐞𝐲 | eren jaeger chapter 8

⊱𖣂⊰ | In which you fall into a fictional world with the key to Pandora's box.

⊱𖣂⊰ | masterlist

⊰– prev   next–⊱

𝟎𝟖 | 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

chapter word count: 3.3 k

content warnings: blanket warnings

a/n: So we are doing this again, where I say that I'm too busy and the next chapter will take a while and then I turn my back and upload on schedule. Anyway. I hope ya'll enjoyed last chapter's cliffhanger!

Thanks for reading!

𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 are taken aback is a gross understatement; you’re utterly stunned. Your eyes widen a fraction, and for a millisecond the air, the ocean, and your heart all still. 

Never in your dreams –well, maybe some of them– would you have thought that your name would come out of his mouth seconds after meeting you. There are no introductions to serve as prelude to his words, no past interactions to serve as crutch for rationalization. 

The gleaming moonlight is suddenly much more brilliant, bathing you both in silver rays. Your hair sways in the salty ocean breeze, and so does his, matching yours in a gentle rhythm. The wind is much calmer than the storm that heralded your arrival, air strangely warmer despite the environment that would suggest otherwise. 

Your name in his lips is not a question, but rather an answer. 

He, somehow, knows who you are, as his tone does not ask if that is your name, but instead states it with the certainty only someone familiar with another can. It is strange, how his eyes speak of understanding, how his stance speaks of kinship.

You are frozen in place for what seems like eternity, but is likely just a couple of seconds. Hange’s enthusiastic voice is lost in the pulse of the sea’s waves, in the drum of your heart, in the whisper of breath of your unasked questions. 

How? Is the first one your mind asks.

Zeke, you reply, before discarding the idea. It is neither logically sound nor something coherent with the instructions and warnings you were given. The Scouts never knew about the Volunteers before they set foot on the island, never considered such an organization's existence in the first place, and much less one that Zeke led. 

Invariably, you know him. 

Unexpectedly, he knows you. 

“What?” you instead ask out loud, when you notice that he is searching your response for confirmation.  

You hesitate with your question, not unlike when you first asked Yelena who she was. It is terrifying how, just when you feel you have a grasp on what is happening, the rug is pulled from your feet and you are left dazed and confused on the floor. 

It makes you think that when you reweave a new carpet from your loom, when you believe you can see the whole picture it depicts, a loose thread will ultimately be pulled by an unknown force, sending you tumbling down once again. 

You are a bit embarrassed of yourself when he gives you a small smile and your stomach flutters just as your cheeks heat up. Maybe this is a dream you think, and it's not the first time that you are hesitant to accept reality, but it is the first occasion that you don't compare it to a nightmare. 

“Don’t pretend like you dont know me,” he says, further baffling you. “We both know way too much for that.”

“We do?” you ask, before correcting your tone. “We do.”

Eren tilts his head slightly, transferring his weight from one foot to another. “Yeah.”

You’ve noticed that there is a lot of space for silence in your life. Whether it contains unsaid secrets, unasked questions, or unresolved doubts, it always lingers behind you, never broken, never explained. 

And yet now, even with the uncertainty with which you approach the newborn conversation, there is implied solidarity in his words, in his actions. Eren didn’t try to pretend he was ignorant of you for the sake of having aces under his sleeve, nor did he attempt to trade that tidbit of information for another. 

Instead he came down the hill –because you are certain he was given explicit orders to not approach the ship’s crew– and talked to you, making it known that you had a connection. One that may only be just brought forth, but that came to life months before your first meeting, when he received his medal and his memories and his burden, and when you watched his story and his rage and his salvation.

You hear a whistle in the distance, and you whip your head towards its source, the sand and rock shore where the two Volunteers and two Scouts remain. You glance at them, too far away to distinguish their faces, their number, but knowing anyways who it is that stands there. Or maybe not, but you couldn't bear to think that your information was now obsolete. 

“I have to go,” you confess as if it is a great sin. 

Eren, who also turned his eyes to the shrill whistle, looks at you again. You swear his eyes soften, and gleam with something akin to… beholding? As quickly as these thoughts enter your mind you dismiss them, because, even if he could claim to know you through his future memories, it doesn’t excuse what you think you see. And so, you conclude it must be a trick of the light and of your perceived closeness to him through his story. 

He nods, not moving from his place between the dunes. You swallow, also not wanting to withdraw, but then you blink and the spell is broken on your end. The sand once again crunches underfoot, but then you stop when he calls your name again in a soft voice that is carried your way by the salty breeze. And so you cast your eyes upon him again, humming questioningly.

“Tell them your name,” is what Eren says after a moment. “They don't know,” he continues, infusing the word with weight, “but they learned.”

And it should be painfully awkward, how blunt questions and half finished answers are being thrown about, but there is no discomfort in the exchange. You know, and he knows, and you hadn’t realized how refreshing it was to just be, not relieved from the burdens but breathing in spite of them. You wonder if he has come to the same realization. 

“I will,” you say. “Thank you.”

“I’ll find you later,” he says. 

“Yeah,” you answer, almost tripping over your words. “Okay.”

You dont think to ask why until much later, when your feet have already taken you to the other side of the pier, sand crunching rhythmically under your robotic footsteps. Why he would tell you, and why now, and why in that way. But the more you delve into it, the more obvious it becomes. 

Eren knows what is supposed to happen (giant footsteps and crunching bones and the spray of blood and–) and is, in his eyes, powerless to do anything but follow the path already established by his future self, who is likewise chained by the same revelations. Perhaps you are as well, if the haunted look in his eyes is any indication of the unstoppable future that will be realized in a little more than three years. 

Still, everyone seeks salvation, even those who sacrifice themselves in order to save others. You and him are no exception. 

You will save him from his preordained fate, determined by his past, by his future. He will save you from your uncertain destiny, shrouded in mystery and paradoxes. 

Maybe you don't need to reweave a new tapestry just yet; maybe it's enough to only untangle the yarn. 

Hange Zoë is no less enthusiastic than the character you used to watch on Tv. Levi Ackerman is no less distrustful than the man you read manga about. They haven’t greeted you yet, as you’ve only just arrived to stand behind Yelena, next to Onyankopon. 

He glances at you when you arrive, silently asking with his eyes what held you back. You shake your head almost imperceptibly, imploring that neither he nor Yelena press the issue. 

“Is that her?” Hange chirps, curiously referring to you. 

You almost want to look behind you, to see if there's anyone else they might have been talking about, but you know there is no one else in your vicinity, and you're the only one who has approached recently enough to warrant the question. 

“She is the last one.” Yelena says. “Please excuse her tardiness.”

“Oh! Well, in that case it's so nice to meet–” 

“Four eyes,” Levi interrupts. “Now's not the time for chit-chat.” He turns to glance at you, before returning to look at Yelena, the de facto leader. “Expect the ship to be searched while we escort you three to our base.”

“I would expect nothing less,” is what Yelena responds. “Your caution is commentable.”

“Sure,” Levi says dryly, not an ounce of belief in his voice, signaling unnamed Scouts to march onto the ship and its crew. “Get walking.”

You all file in, walking amongst the dunes and rocks, with Yelena at the helm of your little group. You feel eyes on you, but when you turn to look no one in your direct vicinity is watching. Instead, you trip when going up some slippery rocks, too preoccupied with searching for nonexistent eyes, but fortunately Onyankopon catches you, grabbing your arm to prevent your fall. 

The rifle slung over his shoulder rattles with the commotion, and you feel how the others turn to look at you, before registering both your actions as non threatening. 

“Careful there, kid,” Onyankopon says. 

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly, heart still reeling from your near slip. “Sorry for the, uh, tardiness.”

“It's all good,” he reassures you, although you know your notoriety for being late is only growing. 

You also know –well, maybe not know, but you are smart enough to deduce– that Onyankopon does want to ask you about your reasons for not heading directly to the pier after the Volunteer in charge of letting you out of your small cabin reported to his post. 

But he won’t pose the question right now, where there is a great chance of being overheard, and where exchanging secrets would only cause more suspicion from the Scouts. 

There is no idle chatter as you make your way to the multiple tents that make up the Scout’s base, scattered around an open field in an orderly fashion. Small yellow dots light up the entrance flaps of each green structure, and there are multiple barrels strewn around. 

You once again feel eyes on you, only this time you are aware of who those eyes belong to. It is a given that the other soldiers would be apprehensive about the Volunteers sudden appearance, but you notice how their attention lingers a tad too long on you. 

You force yourself not to squirm under the weight of their curiosity, of their judgment. Yelena and Onyankopon get noticed as well, but it is you that garners the most attention. Because, well, adults are what they expected Marley to send, but a teenager? Even if you are older than some of the recruits and Marley didn’t actually send you, it was still something they didn’t account for. 

So it is strange, even to you, who was made aware of this prematurely, how you are included in the small group with the proclaimed leaders of the Volunteer faction. Yeah, you can see why all eyes are primarily on you. 

Hange reaches a tent that seems larger than all of the others, and enters through the flap, and the rest of you follow, flanked by Levi. They grab at the knob of the hanging lantern and the space is coated with light. On the inside there is a table and red chairs, two on one side, two on the other. Hange brings a third one from a corner, raising the total to five.

“Sit, sit!” they usher you, taking their place on the other side of the table. 

“Weapons on the table,” Levi says, less enthusiastically. 

You don't have any weapons to turn in, so you walk towards the chair on the far right and sit, fiddling with your thumbs before you remember to quash the anxieties bubbling inside of you. There is a strong sense of deja vu when you reach for one of the teacups gingerly placed on the table, noting with some sourness how bitter tea always seems to follow you in interrogations and introductions. 

You disassociate for a moment, choosing to retreat into your thoughts, rewinding your earlier interaction with Eren over and over again, not unlike what you used to do with his older brother. 

What sets it apart is the intention with which you are dissecting it, turning his words upside down to squeeze more of that refreshing understanding (You know, and he knows, and you hadn’t realized how refreshing it was to just be—) out. 

There is silence again, but this time it is filled with tension. You blink, unsettled by the lack of discussion between the two Volunteers and the two Scouts, only to find the later ones looking at you expectantly, Levi’s expression disguised with more finesse than Hange’s.

“…Sorry, what?” you ask. 

“Your name,” Hange clarifies. “I asked for your name.”

“Oh,” you say. “It’s Y/n.”

There is something almost imperceptible in the way Hange fiddles with Yelena’s gun, a recognition in both their and Levi’s eyes that you might’ve missed were it not for Eren’s insistence in presenting yourself with your name. 

You risk a glance at Yelena but her eyes are on you, not them, as are Onyankopon’s, so you let yourself breathe, halfway convinced they didn’t notice.

Hange does not miss a beat. “It’s nice to meet you Miss Y/n!” they say, drowning out your protests of Just Y/n please— and placing the gun back on the table, next to the rifle.

You nod, hesitant. “It’s nice to meet you too, uh, …?” You trail off, not remembering if they already introduced themselves or not.

“Hange Zoë, at your service!” They say, nudging Levi when he doesn’t say anything.

“Levi Ackerman.” And if you notice the distinct lack of add on like Hange’s introduction, well, that is to be expected.

Yelena takes the opportunity to steer the conversation away from pointless (to you) introductions and unimportant (to her) dialogue.

“So, about our proposal…”

She launches onto the plan you rehearsed and memorized with Zeke, drilled into your mind enough times as to prevent any slip ups of the scheme only him, Yelena, and you know.

It’s not different at all from the one presented in the series, and although you now have it branded deep in your mind, back home you had to watch several videos and read several posts in order to understand. 

The beauty of Attack On Titan was in the convoluted yet intriguing plot and themes, yet sometimes you needed outside help to comprehend half of the stuff that was going on. The fact that each character has their own motivations and their own secrets on top of the changing allegiances do nothing to help.

Still, hours and hours spent scraping the wiki and watching compilations finally pay off, and you’re confident in your ability to not only remember each plan, but also the people involved and the moments in which their loyalties shifted.

The motions are well rehearsed; Zeke will contact the nation of Hizuru, and Hizuru will contact the outside world, advocating for Paradis, as well as provide the blueprints necessary to help advance the island’s technology.

The plan would take around fifty years to reach completion, the amount of time that is estimated as enough to take to bring Paradis to a similar level technology wise to the rest of modern society. There would be a small-scale Rumbling to show off the island’s power, acting as a deterrent for nations with wishes to invade. 

Hange takes the gun again, pointing it directly at their face. It is unloaded, but it still unnerves you. You weren’t a gun savvy by any means, but the first thing you had been taught by Zeke when going over gun safety was to never ever point the gun at yourself, not even when it had the safety on, not even when it was unloaded. 

Yelena lists off the numbers of personnel in the army, counting all the divisions; the infantry, the navy, and aerial forces. Despite Hange’s and Levi’s best attempts, it is evident how frazzled they are by the revelation. 

One million foot soldiers, three fleets of twenty one battle ships each, new technologies and aerial weapons. Those are the new enemies that they must now fight against, a stark contrast to the mindless but brutal titans they are used to dealing with. 

“If Marley had such capabilities the whole time, why haven’t they attacked in over a year?” asks Hange. 

“There are two main reasons,” Yelena begins. “One; the Pure Titans. Even with the latest weapons available to Marley, they would hinder a land assault. Quite ironic that the very thing that is used to confine Eldians to the island also protects it from outside forces.” 

“Yeah, well, ain’t that funny,” Levi says. 

Yelena sips her tea. “Still, I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?” Hange asks.

Yelena doesn’t answer, choosing instead to take a sip from her cup. She looks at her right, directly at you, as if she wanted you to answer in her place. And you can't and won't ever be able to read her mind, but you’re pretty sure you can guess what she is playing at. 

“It's almost dawn,” you point out. “And we are sitting in a tent drinking tea. There is no commotion outside, no one hurrying to their fighting posts. There are also no protective structures around the base, suggesting that you have exterminated almost if not all titans on the island.”

It's clear they weren't expecting you to speak. Even if Eren told them something, the most logical approach to your presence in the tent was as a buffer, something for the Scouts to pick at, to find weakness in. Yelena is helping you overcome that, because, even if it would be easier to infiltrate them if you are deemed as non-threatening, the trust that would be placed upon you should you be assessed as capable makes them want to take the gamble. 

“And the second reason?” Hange asks. 

“Currently, Marley is at war with multiple nations,” Yelena says. “The loss of the Colossal and Female titan, as well as the defeat of their Warrior unit has given many of their enemies the chance to unite and retaliate against Marley.”

“If you guys are secret agents who infiltrated Marley, I’m guessing you came from conquered nations?” Hange asks. 

Yelena’s and Onyankopon’s faces harden– one fake, one true. 

“Oh, I’m right?!,” they exclaim after. “I bet you’ve got some pretty big backers to go up against Marley then.”

“Not quite,” Yelena says, and after a moment she clarifies. “Onyankopon and I are from conquered nations, but Y/n is Eldian.” There is only one truth in her whole statement, a new record. “We were powerless, forced to play soldiers for the nation that took our homes, but Y/n was deemed a devil the moment she was born.”

The fake backstory you're using makes you a little uncomfortable, but it sure was convenient. They wanted to paint you as smart, but not too intelligent as to outsmart Paradis. Dependable, but not a pushover. Eldian, just like them, facing obstacles even when outside the walls. 

You tune out Yelena praising Zeke for organizing the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers, calling him a god amongst mortals. You hoped that small, subtle discomfort showed in your face, so the two members of the Scouts present would notice that you weren't lost in reverence for Zeke. 

“We are the Anti- Marleyan Volunteers,” she finishes. “Our goal: To free the Eldian people.”

Levi and Hange share glances, no doubt discussing the answer they would give. 

“We would like assurance of your allegiances,” Levi says. “You will not be able to contact Eren, or any of the others for that matter, but we want the girl to come with us.”

taglist: @dressycobra7 @xngelsau @bloodchapell @i-think-im-adorable13 @luna4mnoon @yuuuumii @kermittears @binluvsu

ask or comment to be added!

[al-luviec]

I got so insanely mad while drawing this

+ closeup and normalness

[nina-ya]

Thinking heavily about these right now

[mrpenguinpants]

Hypothetical question but are we still into windbreaker (nii satoru)? Y'all cool if I put my hyper fixation on center stage?

[moonshynecybin]

Hi! I have been thinking about Marc and the ways he expresses his anger... giving the cold shoulder... the silent treatment if you will (he will speak ABOUT vale but not TO vale let alone WITH vale)... need your input please....

hmm good question.... this got. STUPID long sorry

uhhh marc is, in general, good at keeping his (negative) emotions in check. like i think marc loooooves to think of himself on track as a mature, controlled, and rational dude. above distraction. a killer. a cyborg. idk his dad has talked about how he doesnt really complain much about injury and there's also allll these stories about what a mature kid he was... so i think that when he was young - ESPECIALLY in a racing sense because he was so much younger than most of the people he was competing against - he internalized that in order to do all the stuff he wants to do racing-wise, he reallyyyy has to keep a level head and not well. act his age! and i think that extends to a lot of how he manages his emotions today (at least in a public setting). even in places where im pretty sure hes PISSED (sepang. phillip island 2013.) he just kind of. visibly contains himself. not a confrontational dude in the outright sense he'll clench his jaw and try to work through it.

which is part of what makes his valentino-oriented crazy so interesting. bc people were noticing that marc in 2015 was kind of. being weird. as his and valentino's relationship deteriorated. like they were both outwardly very much like we can keep it on track :) until the big fallout towards the end of the year but uhhhh. well marc has said that vale started pulling back in september of 2014 like he was noticing SOMETHING, and they clashed on track A LOT in 2015, and i think marc sensed vale cooling on him and freaked a lil. hashtag neurotic 22 year old moments. he is my favorite crazy ex girlfriend. like usually he IS good at separating that stuff out and managing his emotions in the racing sense but in assen that year when vale overtook him off track after they made contact he raised a BIG stink with race direction and actually had some uh. not especially chill quotes about it. (it should be noted marc was also flopping for the first time in his motogp career. like in his brain he stopped winning AND vale stopped talking to him he was goin through it) adn all the reporters noticed too they were like. why werent you sucking and fucking in parc ferme. like vale's left turn wrt to spaniard sabotage comes outta nowhere but people WERE noticing that things were changing. i bet marc noticed too. BUT they are not the type of people to talk about these things so they keep it to vague flirting in presscons and escalating on-track tension slash proxy wars waged in race-direction contexts... liek truly you are 22 you are not going to keep your championship title and your hot sports idol bestie is no longer flirting with you on twitter and you COULD just talk to him about that but you'd rather DIE so youre going to ask honda to back you up to race direction about your last race where you DEFINITELY lost bc winning is the ONLY thing thatll make you feel better. even though thatll help convince your hot sports idol that you are engaging in a benedict arnold level betrayal scheme against him. an insane time to be marc marquez. 2015 really kind of is a study on how both of them handle losing: NOT WELL.

and then the thing about sepang is that then the lid is blown clean off and marc spends the ENTIRE race being annoying on purposeeeee. hes so fucking pissed and hurt at valentino that he decides to get under his skin for REALSIES instead of focusing on his race. like idk he probably would have fought hard for the win without the drama that how he works but uh. i think he was being annoying specifically to bite at vale's edges. and part of that is bc marc is naturally and effortlessly annoying. but i think part of it was SPITE. like his team advised him not to speak on anything from that presscon and he didnt, but he can still fuck him over on track. get under his skin. like he cant tell vale to his FACE that he's angry and confused and hurt. but he CAN let him know on that fucking racing line. where he cant be ignored. idk like i cant see marc letting anyone else get under his skin like that.

AND another big ass exception to the marc marquez anger management philosophy is from misano 2019 where vale messes with his qualifying lap. a lovely anon sent me some videos of marc talking to the press and jesus christ i dont think ive ever seen him angrier oh my god. AND the anon also linked the race from that weekend where he won and he celebrated harder than ive seen him celebrate some TITLE wins like he went. notably nuts. the commentators were all like uhhhh. he mustve REALLY wanted to get one over on vale adjfhlkdh... idk if any of this answered your question but his relationship to his emotions fascinates me hes so weirddddd. and its interesting to me that he can shrug off jorge ruining his last race at honda and be friendly but also be like. kind of aloofly pissed at bezz. because of valentino! he can repress the rest of it, but valentino shines through the cracks.

[oneluckydragon]

✨🌸 Sunshine on your skin, flowers in my soul 🌸✨

🌊🫧Summary → In the midst of his reconciliation with Team Wish, Dusknoir begins coughing up flowers. This unfortunate brand of bad luck should be a cosmic joke. A spiteful punishment that the world has brought down on him out of malice, out of vengeance for his past deeds. A cruel, agonizing curse manifested with the single unjustified purpose of preventing him from realizing happiness, ever seeking redemption, ever righting his multitudes of wrongs and moving on with his life. But that's not true, and he knows it deep down. Knows it in the very core of his soul like the flood of petals building in this throat.

This is his fault because he is a coward, and that's all he has ever been. A backstabbing, lonely coward.

And now he is going to die because of it.

[AO3]

[CH. I -- Word Count -- 13,290]

🌒💫 Return → the act of going back to a place, person, or memory

[CH. II -- TBA]

[hippolotamus]

Several Sentence Sunday 📝

Happy Sunday, lovelies! Barreling on with more you're where I wanna go (i've missed her so much 😭) but going back to 1902 this time (about 10 years before the previous snippet) (all prev snippets and lore here)

One thing Buck hoped for in this escape was a guise of anonymity. At least a chance to put down his society mask. Unfortunately, like tends to attract like and the ‘old money’ set has a way of sniffing each other out. His mother loves it, knowing she can travel anywhere and find the ‘right’ sort of people. Of course that would require that she actually leave Philadelphia, something he’s certain she hasn’t done since arriving there to be married. Buck, on the other hand, tends to find the wealthy dull and repetitive, like a worn out music box. Something about them beautiful, and mostly functional, but their sound is stale and faintly warped from playing the same tune too many times. Even the sons and daughters, closest to his own age, are a bit of a bore. They might emerge from university with new, bold ideas, but those are quickly eroded away as the sons join the family business with a reputation to uphold. The daughters become wives and mothers, replacing every shiny, hopeful dream with the sacred knowledge of hosting tea and making sure the children are well behaved in church on Sundays.

tagged by the always talented @weewootruck @theotherbuckley @bidisasterevankinard @inell @dangerpronebuddie

@bi-buckrights @eddiebabygirldiaz @lonelychicago (i promise i'm getting to all of your undoubtedly amazing snippets!) 💖

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @loveyouanyway @a-noble-dragon @tizniz @diazheartsbuckley

@saybiwithme @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow @spotsandsocks @stereopticons

@kitteneddiediaz @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend @thekristen999

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@elvensorceress @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @ladydorian05

@lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus

@thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

[theladyyavilee]

we were running out through the storm (through the night)

Or the one where Buck almost kissed Eddie at Chimney's bachelor party and Tommy was there to witness it.

read on AO3

„You almost kissed Eddie last night.” There is no trace of accusation in Tommy’s voice and somehow the words still hit Buck like a slap to the face. The hospital staircase is empty and quiet now in the middle of the night, the bright artificial light giving the moment a surreal quality, and somehow, with everything that happened after, Buck did not see this conversation coming.

(The fear and worry of the last 15 or so hours made it so easy to push the memory down and away, something for future Buck to deal with.

Something for future Buck to figure out how to fix, maybe.)

It’s only been maybe an hour since Buck watched Maddie fall asleep curled into Chimney’s side on his hospital bed, her and Chimney’s hands with their matching gold bands interlocked right over Chimney’s heart and with Chimney looking down at her like he was unable to look away. Clearly feeling like the luckiest man in the world, no matter all the horrors he had to walk through to get here to this moment.

(Only maybe an hour since Buck caught himself thinking this is love, this is what love is supposed to be.

Only maybe an hour since Buck caught himself glancing over at Eddie – curled up in one of the horrible hospital chairs and looking smaller than he should, deeply asleep and with an equally conked out Chris leaning into his shoulder – first, instead of searching out his boyfriend’s eyes and the guilt flooded back into him.)

Looking back he knows there was something in Tommy's eyes when he helped Chimney out of the helicopter and found Buck’s eyes over Maddie’s head as she rushed towards them. A slight hesitation when Buck kissed him in front of everyone that Buck thought was just surprise at the public display in front of Buck’s parents. A flicker of sadness on his face when they swayed to the soft sounds of Islands In the Stream from Hen's phone loudspeaker in Chim's hospital room, before Tommy pulled him close enough to hide his face against the side of Buck's.

But Tommy wasn’t supposed to know, not yet, not until Buck figure out how to tell him.

Because that had never been in question, only the when and how.

Only apparently Tommy already knows.

And Buck feels like there suddenly isn’t enough air in the room to form words.

“I—I didn’t—I didn’t though, Tommy, you have to know I—”

“I know, hey, Evan, I know,” Tommy reassures and his voice is so gentle it makes something ache deep inside Buck’s chest. Maybe this would be easier if Tommy was angry. “I saw your face right after, I know you wouldn’t have done it knowingly, but for a moment there I don’t think you remembered.”

everything else, is—has been—stuck in that space between one breath and the next, flipping through every single visceral snapshot memory impression.

How he had felt terrifyingly sober for just that one moment, before letting himself fall even harder into drunkenness to forget.

That lightning strike realization when he caught on to what he was about to do, when he realized that for a second he had completely forgotten where he was and that he had a boyfriend.

(It had been so different from when he kissed Lucy, because then he had remembered Taylor for every single second of it and kissed Lucy anyways and he’s not sure if that was worse or this is.)

The fact that apparently Tommy was right there and saw that moment play out over Buck’s face? Yeah, that is definitely worse, even if Buck was immediately disgusted at himself.

Because he still almost did it and Tommy saw that too.

read the rest on AO3

[laundrybiscuits]

Will’s looking at him with those tragic eyes, this kid who’s almost as tall as Eddie but seems centuries younger, infinitely more fragile and breakable. And shit, Eddie is not at all prepared to be some kind of queer mentor. He’s barely keeping his head above water with Robin, who doesn’t expect him to be anything other than a peer with a little more experience in his pocket; he’s a piss-poor option for baby Byers, who desperately needs some kindly gay Gandalf in his life. A role model with like, a long-term boyfriend and a city job and one of those yappy purse dogs.

But Eddie’s the only one here, and what else can he do? So he takes a deep breath and prepares to say something really wise and mentor-y. He doesn’t know what it is yet, but it’ll definitely be both appropriate and profound.

“I mean, it worked out for you, right?” says Will.

“Uh,” says Eddie, thrown completely off track. “What?”

“With—” Will flushes, but continues in a low voice. “You know. With Steve, and all.”

“What,” says Eddie again.

“I mean, sorry if that’s…I know you guys haven’t exactly been telling people, but…you know you can tell me, right?”

“Ahahaha,” says Eddie. “What.”

“I think it’s nice, how you guys managed to move past all the high school stuff and find each other. It’s like—a happy ending, right?”

“Right. I mean, wrong. I mean, whatever you think is going on, it’s not. Jesus christ, Will the Wise, there’s absolutely no way anything would ever be—where are you even getting this? We’re not—we’re not.”

“Sure.” Will rolls his eyes, and Eddie is reluctantly reminded that this kid can be a catty bitch too sometimes. “That’s why he was wearing your Black Sabbath shirt last Tuesday, and why you keep Springsteen in your glove compartment, and why his car is parked in your driveway almost every night. Dude, Dustin doesn’t even bother calling Loch Nora when he’s trying to find Steve now, he just goes straight to your place.”

Laid out like that, it’s a little damning.

“That’s—all out of context,” says Eddie weakly. “And—and Steve is straight, anyway. So. Check and mate, Byers.”

Will lets out an annoyed breath. “I’m sixteen, you know. You don’t have to—look, sorry if I’m pushing too much with this, but…don’t lie to me, okay? Friends don’t lie.”

Eddie’s heard the kids say that last thing every so often, like a mantra or some godawful affirmation. He huffs, shaking his hair out of his face.

“Y’know, that little catchphrase you’ve got isn’t the worst rule in the world, but it’s not the most nuanced, either. Ever heard of discretion, kid?”

“Right,” says Will. “Discretion.” He winks at Eddie, squinching the whole side of his face up like he’s never actually tried winking before, and Eddie is momentarily struck dumb with how terrible the effort is.

Just then, Dustin barrels in talking a mile a minute about some idea he needs Will for immediately, yes right now, Eddie’ll still be here afterwards, come on.

As Eddie watches them go, he awards himself one Gay Gandalf point for effort, and negative five million points for the trouble he can smell coming down the line.

(eta: I am a god damn liar. continuation here.)

[necrotic-nephilim]

this is an invitation to ramble about slade/batboy ships: sladick, sladejay, sladetim, sladedami, and other batfam member/villain ships, especially jayroman and ra'stim :)

AAAAAA this is so delightful oh my god thank you. adding a read more just because this one is going to get Long to cover all the ships and all my opinions. because my god do i love Slade.

firstly, the original Robin/villain ship, SlaDick. Slade Wilson, literally created to be a Teen Titans villains, with the original Robin he cannot be normal about ever. i'm so sad there's not much interest in Slade aside from making him a generic Evil Guy who canonically likes teenagers because i think to just boil down his complex with Dick to 'weird attraction' robs them of SUCH nuance. Slade *trusts* Dick, he trusts Dick enough to ask Dick to train his own daughter Rose. and initially Slade's complex over Dick isn't sexual, it's seeing Dick as a replacement for his dead son, Grant. that's messy as hell and i love them for it. i don't think there's a single villain that has the respect for Dick that Slade has. i'm always of the opinion Dick's attraction to Slade is rooted in daddy issues and Slade's attraction to Dick is rooted in dead son issues. do i think they could end up as an old married couple? yes but only in a world where Dick is completely broken and feels alone. my favorite SlaDick flavor is post-Jason's death. Dick and Bruce are arguably at their worst during that era to begin with so Dick is pretty isolated and emotionally unstable. and Slade would take such advantage of that, swooping in to offer Dick emotional stability and fucked up sex to get out pent up emotions. (i'm big a big fan of Dick fucking out his feelings tbh) and Slade is just. this sort of bad habit Dick will kick for a year or two then come crawling back to. you can directly track how well Bruce and Dick are getting along based on how many times Dick has slept with Slade recently. and that's the prize, for Slade. knowing Dick will come back to him, eventually. it's all about patience. and if something really extreme happened to Dick (like Bruce's fake death) i think they'd even date briefly. it's not entirely impossible for Dick to date someone he disagrees with morally (see: his flings with Helena) and i think Dick would keep trying to 'save' Slade, using the upper hand he has of filling in this role of Slade's dead son to try to domesticate him. would it work? who knows but if anyone is going to try over and over, it's going to be Dick. it's practically self-harm for Dick yet the only thing keeping him sane. i love them.

SladeJay is... an interesting one for me. because i like the *potential*. but they have no significant interactions pre-Flashpoint. and while usually i can forgive New-52 and Rebirth for their grievances if it has ship fodder i just... can't do that for Jason. Judd Winick's Jason is the only Jason that exists to me so even Slade and Jason's canon interactions matter little to me because it's not the version of Jason i care for. the upside of that though, is it's more of a sandbox to explore what they could be and there are no limitations. i can just run wild. which is fun bc. you're telling me Slade wouldn't be so drawn in by the idea of a dead Robin who's come back and is now the antithesis of Bruce's morality? i think at some point Slade would want to poke the bear, really see what Red Hood is made of. do i see them working long-term? no but i do think Jason would have zero qualms working with Slade if he got something out of it. and if he could fuck with Bruce or Dick by having a short, fucked up relationship with Slade? that's even better. i don't think Slade could ever truly respect Jason, at the end of the day the Dick Grayson standard is too high and Slade would sneer at the idea of a legacy who fucked it up so bad he got blown up. but, he'd see that as Bruce's failure more than Jason's. and for Jason to have someone look him in the eye and say that Bruce *failed* him? i think that'd just *do* something to Jason. and Slade has lost a son, he knows what that loss feels like, how you feel you failed as a father. would he have interest in being fatherly to Jason? no but i think he'd have fun momentarily manipulating Jason and seeing what reactions he gets out of what jeers. Jason's been calling himself a failure this whole time, so to have someone else say it is no real big deal, but to have someone else say it's Bruce's fault and voice Jason's feelings? they'd have the most fucked up sex with the most unhealthy dirty talk that's both gentle and degrading. i don't think Jason would ever let himself get too close, he's far too emotionally guarded. but for a second, i think he'd fantasize about having even *half* the amount of attention that Slade gives Dick. bc what has Jason always been, but in Dick's shadow.

SladeTim. my two blorbos. in one place. somewhere in my drafts i have a half-started longfic about SladeTim that's one half really fucked up porn and one half slowburn feelings. arguably Tim and Slade don't have many canon interactions, but it's fun to me that when they do, Slade always seems sort of startled by how well Tim fights back and Tim's willingness to fight dirty in a way even Dick doesn't. and to me, that's the crux of this ship. as far as Robins go, Tim should sort of slip under the radar for Slade. he's not the dead one turned villain, he's not the grandson of Ra's al Ghul, hell he's not even the child of a second-rate villain like Steph, he's not *the* Dick Grayson, he's just... the other one. grew up pretty rich and normal and fell for all of Bruce's wax poetic nonsense. so when Tim puts himself on the map as a hero, makes himself a worthy opponent against Slade that's interesting. even to Tim, Slade isn't a particularly remarkable villain since Slade cares to stay more on Dick's radar. so when they cross paths there's a lot of unexpected. neither of them have thought about the other too hard. so there's this interest and intrigue about it i love. i'm a big fan of the idea Tim is a massive masochist, both physically and emotionally and Slade is The Sadist Ever so. i like them falling into bed together and having the most fucked up sex. like Tim just being a Weird Little Freak so fucked up even Slade raises an eyebrow. because this isn't what you *expect* of a kid like Tim, who's had a pretty easy life before tangling with vigilantes. he should be like a fish out of water, but instead he's matching Slade's energy in ways even Dick doesn't. and of course, how smart he is, that's an asset. it takes a special kind of kid to have the audacity to poison Lady Shiva with hotel chocolates and pull it *off* no less. it earns a begrudging respect, and it's rare to get Slade to respect someone. i really like the idea of Tim seeking Slade out only for fucked up sex and somehow Slade falls for this weird little freak who's cold and clinical outside of sex and keeps him guessing.

i'll be honest i've only considered SladeDami in the context of seeing antis say 'omg Slade has been predatory toward Damian ewww' and going 'no the fuck he hasn't but if you want that so bad i'll ship it just to spite you all' but their canon interactions do fascinate me. a lot of how they interact is predicated on Slade as a father, even more so than SlaDick. like Slade will fight Damian and then be like 'hey be good to your old man fathers need their sons' and fucking dip. and then with the whole Respawn thing and Shadow War? that was extra crunchy. for a brief moment Slade had a son who was a brother to Damian and then he goes and *dies*? talk about the complex that would give him with Damian, the spitting image of Respawn. Make Slade Weird About Batkids That Remind Him of His Son 2024. Damian holds an utter contempt for Slade that is simply unmatched. so Slade not leaving that kid alone because of his weird issues, making sure that Bruce doesn't screw up with Damian the way he screwed up with Respawn is very fun. and Damian slowly building up a tolerance to Slade's annoying antics could be fun. Damian is, at his core, still just a kid who needs the approval of something father-shaped and he will Take What He Can Get. are they ever healthy or long lasting? no but i do think Damian would cling to Slade during his teen years for something incredibly fucked up and codependent until either Slade dumped him or he forced himself to get over it.

JayRoman. i will not lie love these two but i don't think i've read many Black Mask comics when he's not interacting with Jason. which is funny because my entire conception of Roman is him just getting humiliated by Jason and really what more is there to know about the man. Jason is so unserious in how he handles Roman and the best part is you can tell it's truly because he doesn't see Roman as a threat. Roman's just a pawn in the game of getting Bruce's attention and sure, Jason is aiming to kill Roman by the end of it, but he'll always have bigger fish to fry. and that's so *infuriating* for Roman. this new guy who's *clearly* a fucking teenager shows up, owns you so badly it shatters your empire, and then you only live bc he seems to have gotten bored of you. JayRoman is my particular favorite ship for the flavor of 'the sub in bed is in control of every other aspect of their relationship and their submission is a gift that can be revoked at any time' which we don't get enough. fucked up power dynamics always have the sub being the one lacking control. and whilst i enjoy when Roman is able to absolutely control and manipulate Jason through various means, i think in canon, it makes far more sense he's pathetic and begging Jason for even a *chance*. and Jason very specifically picking who he subs for based on someone who he could kill or destroy at the drop of the hat if he needed to is a very Jason thing to do. there will never be trust between these two. they will fuck nasty and Roman will be in love with Jason. but they are both carrying a gun during sex. the gun is probably involved during the sex.

Ra'sTim. my everything. Red Robin (2009) you will always be famous to me. what *don't* they have. forced proximity. enemies to lovers. forced partnership. one-sided obsession. ridiculously large age gap. deep unforgivable betrayal. i will never evacuate these two from my brain dear god. Ra's is another one of those villains who gets painted with one broad stroke of being cartoonishly evil with no exploration of his interesting nuance. making him nothing but a villain is boring. where is the Ra's who loves so deeply and fully and has to lose his loved ones over and over and will not let that happen to Tim. he wants to consume Tim in a 'cannibalism as a metaphor for love but also probably literal cannibalism' way. the amount of trust put in Ra's in order for Tim to be able to betray him as spectacularly as he did? that's glorious. Tim had full unfiltered access to Ra's' computers even when he was advised against trusting Tim so much. and then Tim wins against Ra's and willingly lets Ra's kill him. (obviously Dick saves him, but I'm of the opinion Tim was just committed to dying in that moment and he was Okay With That) 'i will betray you if it's the last thing i do' as an act of love. Tim is to Ra's what Dick is to Slade. you will never convince me Tim and Ra's didn't hatefuck at least once during RR (2009) with a questionable level of consent. i'm so serious i will never shut up about them. the way Tim talks about working with Ra's as if he's making a deal with the devil and Ra's talks about Tim like he's the precious, once in a life time thing, one of the only people worthy to produce an heir for Ra's. how's that not gay. what other ship involved one of them literally trying to have the other's baby to raise as an heir. Ra's would probably carry the baby himself if he could. memes aside they're just so. they're so it. i love when Tim is forced into a Situation where he has to work with Ra's and confronts the darker aspects of himself that Ra's wants to bring out but Tim wants to squash. it is The corruption kink. whether Ra's succeeds or not in corrupting Tim doesn't even matter because the real crux of this ship is the chase. it's the way the heart pounds when they reach out for each other and you don't know if it's for a kiss or a killing blow. it's very Hannigram to me, in that i don't even need or want them to kiss to know they're in love. love to them is not true love's kiss, it's the thoughtful place they decide to stab the other in. be the sheath to my dagger type ship. hold all this bloody violence i know you're capable of inside of you. let me cut the violence out of you ship. what more can you ask for from a ship. Ra's would tie Tim down and torture him both as foreplay and as a love language and Tim would be too fucked up and self-sacrificial to stop him. always playing the dangerous game of how far will the other let them go until someone tries to die or kill. listen i think i lost the plot here but my point is they're unwell about each other. Tim will make Ra's regret the day he met Tim Drake not just for the betrayal but because Ra's can never go back to a time Before Tim. before knowing what the chase felt like. they're so. them.

[crownedwille]

.

[tethrras]

deciding to headcanon that the lighthouse makes people feel Calm and Docile and Relaxed to excuse the fact that more of the companions aren't as mad as lucanis that ANY of this is happening

[jenna-louise-jamie]

well, now we know where alex got it from.