#making connections where there are none that's me

[elstattoos]

Cold & Wet: Ellie Williams x Reader

☆*:.｡.

MDNI, MEN DNI

Summary: You go to a lesbian bar with Ellie and find out she has more than a few surprises up her sleeve.

WC: 4.3K

Warning: car sex, fingering(r receiving), head (r receiving), praise

Authors Note: Finally finished this!!! I need more Ellie Williams… if possible 🙏

Normally, you weren’t the type to get love-struck, but Ellie Williams had that effect. Her presence alone stole your breath away. Both anticipation and warmth coursed through you, an unfamiliar mix of emotions for you.

Dina was the one who introduced you and Ellie, that night at the party, and you had no idea how you managed to score a date with her. It was a miracle, indeed, considering how popular Ellie was with girls.

You recalled that night vividly, the way she gulped down her drink, her tongue darting out to lick the remaining drops from her lips. Her eyes met yours, as she mumbled, “Hey… do you want to… I don’t know hangout sometime?

There was a hint of nervousness in her voice, and a blush was visibly on her cheeks. It was quite endearing how she seemed uncertain as if you would say no to her.

A grin spread across your lips, “Yeah! That sounds.. really nice, Ellie.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, but you knew you failed miserably. The excitement is obvious on your face.

Seeing Ellie, private outside of the party? That would be so much more intimate. You could see the relief on her face as you accepted her invitation, and the small smile that moved across her face made your heart flutter.

“It’s a date then,” Ellie muttered. Your heartbeat sped up, it felt like it was trying to escape your rib cage from how fast it was beating.

Your eyes met, and you shared a silent moment of understanding and connection. You couldn't help but bite your lip as you stared at her, trying to contain your excitement.

You nodded to her words, your voice coming out slightly shaky as you spoke. "I'm looking forward to it," you admitted. There was no hiding the eagerness in your voice, and you knew that she could see right through you.

—

So, you find yourself a few nights later, staring at yourself in the mirror for what feels like the hundredth time. You could feel your heart racing as your eyes gazed over your appearance. You look amazing, but the anticipation of this date was gnawing on you, and your hands felt warm and clammy.

This is all you thought about all week and you didn’t want to ruin it, so you took a deep breath. But, it was not used because it felt as if your stomach was twisting into knots.

A sudden ding from your phone brought you out of your thoughts, you saw notifications flash across your screen from none other than Ellie.

Ellie: i’m here

Ellie: where are you? 🙂‍↕️

Ellie: sorry, this apartment complex of urs got me confused asf

The messages made you giggle, so then you took a moment to compose yourself by taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Your palms were sweaty as you made your way to meet Ellie at her car. As you approached, exiting your house and approached her car, she waved at you, opening the passenger side door for you.

Your heart swelled at her action, simple, yet so sweet. She gently closed the door before making her way to the driver’s side and getting in.

Ellie’s eyes landed on you, sitting in her car.“I’m really happy I get to take you out, ya know. I’ve wanted to…,” her cheeks heated up and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, “to.. take you out for a while.” She finally admitted.

This had you breathless. Ellie Williams wanted to take you out for a while. That means, she has been attracted to you and also had wanted you, like you wanted her.

Whenever you saw Ellie in passing, you found her so attractive. Her captivating presence and aura made her all the more special, which made you want to explore whatever this was. Your heart leaps in your chest, you don’t want to jump the gun on being hopeful. But you couldn’t help it.

“Well…” you mumbled, “I’m incredibly glad you asked. I’m still shocked you did.”

Ellie’s eyes widened a bit before she chuckled. “Babe.. you really shouldn’t be shocked,” her eyes ranked over your body, taking you in before speaking again, “You’re so hot, nothin’ to worry about.”

Her boldness caught you off guard and you had to hold back a giddy smile from stretching across your face. Fuck. Does she realize the effect she has on you?

Both yours and Ellie’s eyes met quickly, she started the car. “You’re really… attractive, Ellie. This feels like a dream,” you truly were breathtaking whispering that to her, she couldn’t believe she had you here.

To you, everything truly felt surreal for you in this moment and Ellie felt the same. Both of you were in the same wondrous boat, two lesbians who were shamelessly giddy over one another.

Ellie’s tongue quickly darted over her lips, her focus now on the road and not ogling over you. “Well, this isn’t a dream. I’m glad because I get to take your fine ass out.”

She signaled before, turning the wheel of the car onto the road. Ellie earned a giggle out of you at her words, the sound causing her eyes to side glance to you, again. She couldn’t help herself.

You thought you were dreaming? Ellie felt as though she was, hearing that sound come out of your mouth.

With one hand gripping the wheel, her right arm passed over to grip your thigh, the tattoo flexing on her forearm. She clutched the fat of your thigh. Boldness growing over her, she smirked to herself when she heard your breath hitch at the feeling.

This was the first time Ellie had ever touched you that way, and it sent you wanting more than her just touching your plush, thick thighs. You shivered the creeping thoughts away, focusing on the moment.

Your hand grazed over hers that lay on your thigh, you ran your fingers slightly over her hand. Ellie felt like fireworks exploded feeling your fingers lightly graze her hand.

She smiled to herself, her grip on your thigh lessening and she just laid it there. You glanced down, intertwining her now empty hand with yours.

Ellie felt the warmth of your hand around hers, her hand held yours together more closely. Feeling her tighten her hand slightly, you looked down at your interlocked hands and felt your heart tug. Your whole body felt so warm, even from just holding her hand. It was electrical.

You’ve had girlfriends, flings, and more in the past, but none of them made you feel the way Ellie had. She even had you that way just from handholding.

The rest of the ride to the bar was quiet, the radio quietly buzzing tunes while you held Ellie’s hand the rest of the way. She gave you soft squeezes now and then until the car slowed and pulled into an unfamiliar parking lot.

Outside the windshield, you read a sign that was lit up in bright pink letters ‘Saffy’s Sapphic Bar.’ You started in awe, this bar is one you’re never been to.

“Is this new?” You whispered, still gawking out the window at the big black building.

“Yeah! It’s the first lesbian bar in our area that’s not like 30 minutes away,” Ellie laughed. She, unfortunately, removed her hand from yours and turned the keys out of the ignition. “You okay with being here?”

You turned your body towards her, “Duh! It’s a lesbian bar, we’re going to have a lot of fun.

A smile tugged at the corners of Ellie's lips as she heard your words, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Let's get inside, babe," she suggested, her voice dripping with charm.

The affectionate nickname sent a rush of butterflies fluttering through your chest, making your heart pound furiously against your ribcage as if it were trying to break free from its confines.

The way she continued to call you endearments, and each one sent a wave of heat coursing through you, leaving you feeling both flustered and exhilarated.

You nodded in agreement, feeling a surge of affection course through your body as Ellie quickly exited the car and made her way to your side. Before you could even react, she had the passenger side door open for you and the gesture made your heart skip a beat. Once you stepped out of her car, Ellie grabbed your hand, gently lacing your fingers through hers.

Her touch sends a wave of warmth through your entire body. The simple act of holding your hand made you feel safe, cared for, and utterly more captivated by her. Your attraction somehow deepens, if possible.

Ellie felt the way you shivered for a minute and gave your hand two gentle squeezes. You squeezed back, “Thank you for taking me here, Els.”

“Of course, now let’s go,” she stepped forward and you felt your hand tugged in tow with the movement. You giggled as you felt your hand being pulled along her with every movement. As you caught up to her stride, you heard her voice, warm and soothing, as she said, “Atta, girl.”

The praise and affection in her tone, made you suddenly feel aroused. You weren’t expecting Ellie to be one to praise, especially now and here of all places. She was full of surprises.

You walked side by side to the door of the bar. Ellie opened the door, still holding your hand and she waited for you to walk in, before following in after you. She didn’t want you to sit there and have you holding her hand, uncomfortably.

As if you could be uncomfortable holding her hand…

The bar was dim, candles aligning the bar, the small dance floor had people dancing around, and there were small tables and chairs, throughout the room for people.

You took the lead, grabbing Ellie’s hand more firmly as you steered her in the direction of the bar, feeling a sudden urge to quench your nerves with a drink.

Ellie easily caught onto your intentions and laughed, “Someone’s eager to get a drink.” She let you guide her towards the bar counter.

One of the bartenders saw you approaching and smiled, “Hey ladies! What can I get started for you?”

You thought for a second before speaking, “Can I get for starters one shot of Tequila and then after a Margarita, please?”

“Of course, hun!” The bartender chirped, then looked at Ellie, “And for you?”

“I'll take a cold beer, please," Ellie muttered, her focus more on you than the bartender. It wasn't intentional, but rather a natural reaction to the way the lighting highlighted your features and made your body look even more mesmerizing. Her focus on you was completely involuntary, and she couldn't help the way her eyes kept lingering all over you.

The bartender nodded and smiled to herself before preparing your and Ellie’s drinks.

“So after we drink a little,” you pointed a finger playfully on her chest, “we need to dance!” You giggled, the atmosphere of the bar was so nice and inviting.

The dance floor was a vibrant mix of movement and sound, with people dancing and chatting with each other all around. As the music boomed from the DJ’s setup, colorful lights flickered behind the bodies of dancing people, casting a kaleidoscope of light and shadow upon the floor. Around you, the atmosphere became infectious and your body urged to move with the music in the very air around you.

“Here you go, ladies!” The bartender replied, setting your drinks down on the counter.

“Thank you,” you responded with a small smile as you took your shot. A small wince escaped your lips as the liquid met your tongue, however the warm and smooth sensation that followed as the liquid traveled down your throat was soothing, and you felt relief wash over you.

The taste of alcohol wasn’t your favorite, but the effect of it was undeniable. You were grateful for the temporary escape it provided from the nerves that previously had been coiled within you since the night began.

Ellie took a sip of her beer, and you felt a brief moment of disappointment as her hand left yours. However, she remained close by your side, not wanting to create distance between the two of you. Ellie glanced over your features as you took a sip from your Margarita.

“Want to go dance, now?” You questioned.

Ellie inhaled for a second, glancing at the dance floor, then took another sip of her beer. She nodded quickly, “Yeah, let’s go.”

You both placed your drinks on a nearby surface, and you couldn’t help but suggest you dance together. The idea had been in your head since you got there, but the idea seemed to intimidate Ellie. A mix of emotions flashed across her face both excitement and nervousness.

You could see the hint of nervousness in her eyes, but at the same time, there was a spark of excitement in them. Her freckled cheeks were flushed in the lights, and she gulped. She felt like a deer in headlights for a brief moment, before you grabbed her hand and suddenly brought her to the dance floor.

Ellie’s eyes widened, your body moving in on her in ways she didn’t think you would. She could see you feeling yourself in the music, slowly moving your hips against hers… and suddenly she forgot about being nervous because… fuck.

Here you were, swaying your hips, basically grinding against her and you looked stunning. The makeup you wore brought out your features so effortlessly, and the lighting of the bar… God, it made you look like an angel in Ellie’s eyes. To say you were irresistible is true.

Ellie allowed her body to give in and move to the music, you hummed feeling her hands wrap around your hips suddenly. You looked over your shoulder to see Ellie shoot you a smile, you felt the movement of her body moving with yours.

It was hot, the way you both moved together so effortlessly to the music. You turned around to face her, no longer wanting to see her face.

Ellie didn’t stop dancing, holding you close as she continued to move both of you in a slow but rhythmic manner. Her hand moved up to cup your cheek, her gaze locked onto yours, filled with affection and desire.

As you leaned into her gentle touch, relishing in the warmth of her hands on your skin, you could sense her eyes flicking down to your lips. Your tongue darted out, wetting your lips.

With a soft groan, she gently scolded you, “Babe, you can’t do that. I want to kiss you.” Her words were filled with both pleading and desire, the eye contact she held with you while saying that had your knees buckling.

“Then kiss me,” you teased. Before you could utter another word, Ellie eagerly leaned down and captured your lips in a firm, needy kiss.

Your eyes shut automatically as you reciprocated the kiss, savoring every moment of her lips pressed against yours. You didn’t want this to stop, and when Ellie’s tongue gently begged for entry, you willingly opened your mouth. Her tongue glided against yours in a passionate dance, you felt a cold sting of metal.

Wait a second… did she have a fucking tongue piercing? You moaned softly at the feeling, the intensity of the moment only growing stronger as you lost yourselves in the kiss.

Ellie’s hands descended to your waist, pulling you even closer, which deepened the kiss. You responded by wrapping your arms around her neck, your fingers idly playing with the hairs at the back of her head. The closeness was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as she pulled back from the kiss.

Both of you were panting from the heated kiss, your chest was rising and falling. Ellie gave your waist a gentle squeeze, her firm grip on you was both possessive and hot at the same time.

Your body responded to her touch as if her hands were leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The alcohol coursing through your veins fueled your courage and emboldened your actions. The heat of her touch was almost more intoxicating than the alcohol itself, and you craved more of Ellie.

“When were you going to tell me you had a tongue piercing?” You panted out, twisting a strand of her hair between your fingers. Ellie smiled, a toothy grin appearing across her face.

“Guess I’m just full of surprises,” her voice was low, her lips hovering over yours, mere inches apart.

“Yeah? Guess you should show me,” your voice sweet like honey. It was a clear invitation, so Ellie closed the short distance between you two.

You were caught off guard by the unexpected moan that escaped Ellie's lips, the sound muffled against your own as your tongue sucked on hers. The noise sent a surge of heat straight to your core, making you ache for more.

In response, one of your hands moved up to cup her face, pulling her closer as you tried to deepen the kiss, desperation and need coursing through your body. The air around you thickened with desire, and you knew you wanted more - much, much more.

Ellie pulled back, breaking the passionate connection between your lips, a thin strand of saliva linking you for a brief moment before it snapped. You couldn’t help but whine at the loss of contact, your body craving her. Ellie looked at you, her green eyes darkened with sheer desire, and she asked, “Let’s go back to my car, yeah?”

You noticed the huskiness in her voice, and you wondered if she was just as needy as you. Either way, the proposition sent a thrill down your spine.

Your head eagerly nodded to her words, Ellie smirked a bit at your eagerness but understood. She clasped your hand in hers, before dragging you to the doorway of the bar. You felt as though you were on cloud nine, the giddiness of the whole situation settling in.

When you both exited the building, you felt the cold air hit you. You sighed softly, enjoying the coolness on your skin vs how hot it was only moments ago.

As you and Ellie neared her car, you expected her to open the passenger side door for you, but instead, the backdoor was open. Your eyebrows furrowed, confusion obvious on your face.

“Why the-“ you let out a squeal, caught off guard when Ellie lifted you and plopped you into her backseat.

“Wanna kiss you some more, can’t do it well sitting elsewhere,” Ellie mumbled as she pulled herself into the car and closed the door behind her.

“Are you okay with this?” Her arm reached out to your shoulder, eyes looking into yours. She needed confirmation you were okay with this.

“Of course, please do something, Els,” you begged.

Ellie’s body inched closer to yours, yearning to touch you finally in the privacy of her car. Her tattooed arm flexed as she grabbed one of your thighs, giving it a firm squeeze.

The whine you let out was swallowed by her lips, the two of you exchanging quick and hot pecks. As the kisses grew hotter, Ellie’s hand traveled to your ass. She grabbed the fat of your ass in her hand, savoring the feeling of how it felt in her hands.

Ellie was completely mesmerized by how your delicate skin felt against her rough skin. It didn’t help when her tongue poked out to enter your mouth, you allowed her in. Her mouth swallowed your tiny moans and whines, and the cold metal of her piercing swiped against your wet muscle.

You’d never before kissed anyone with a tongue piercing, but the feeling of it against your tongue made you let out a low moan. Ellie pulled back, her hand gave your ass a teasing squeeze. The suddenness of her action caused you to yelp from surprise.

Ellie chuckled, “If you’re okay with this… can I…” her eyes adverted from yours to the side, “can I go down on you?” She finally finished.

“Yes, oh my god,” you replied, eagerly connecting your lips in a kiss. Ellie smiled in the kiss, before separating quickly.

“Let’s take these off, yeah? My pretty girl,” her hand tugged at your skirt. Unzipping the skirt was easy, so you shimmed out of it, leaving you in just your little pink lace thong.

Ellie whistled, seeing you in your top and now just thong. Her pussy pulsated at the sight, you felt so exposed under her watchful eye. A blush spread across her freckled cheeks as her eyes ranked up and down your body.

“Ellie… you can take them off… please,” your voice was needy and whiny. Within the small space of the car, the air between you both became thick, the windows becoming foggy.

“Mmm patience, pretty,” Ellie purred out. She pulled your panties down and maneuvered your body so you could lie down comfortably. “This comfortable?”

You gave her a nod of reassurance before she unexpectedly swiped her long, slender fingers through your wet pussy. Ellie almost moaned, collecting your wetness with her digits before bringing them to her lips. She licked her fingers clean, eyes rolling back into her head at the taste of you.

Ellie then lowered her head and made her way to where you needed her the most. You spread your thighs, allowing her to slot her head between them. She then licked a strip from your clit down to your hole, which caused you to grab a fistful of her hair.

The movement of her wet tongue on your pussy felt so good, your thighs shook as she continued to lick around your pussy. Slurping noises could be heard, Ellie pushed her tongue into your tight, little hole.

“Oh- fuck! Ellie! Pleaseee,” the sensation of her filling you up with her tongue made you so desperate and whiny.

Ellie peered up, still licking away at your hole. Her eyes darkened seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling you pull at her hair, and the way you tasted made her absolutely pussy drunk.

Her own eyes rolled into her head, her tongue entering and exiting your hole, before she licked her way back up to your clit. Her focus stayed there as she wanted to make you sensitive and squirmy.

Ellie kept a grip on your thighs to keep you in place, she moved her hand down to your pussy, and slipped in two fingers.

You felt a sudden stretch inside of yourself, your wetness echoing in the car, which caused Ellie to suck harder. The feeling of her fingers going in and out of you, along with the coolness of her piercing had you so close to the edge.

Ellie whined, and your fingers dug more into her hair. “Please… oh pleaseee… Ellie, I’m so close!” Your body wanted to rive around from how good the combination of her tongue and fingers working against you felt.

Ellie so desperately wanted to make you cum, and she was going to get you there. Your begging was egging her on, her boxers dampened just from going down on you.

“Such a good girl,” Ellie groaned, head still buried between your thighs. Ellie continued to work her fingers in and out of your tight, cunt. Squelching noises filled the car, she was relentless and wouldn’t stop. Her fingers curled, hitting your sweet spot.

Your mouth fell open, the action only made her go harder, sucking at your clit and swirling it around in her mouth like a fucking lollipop. That with the combination of her fingers, sent you over the edge.

“Ellie! Fuck!” You screamed, back arching as you came around her fingers. Ellie slipped her fingers out and into her mouth, her eyes closed at the taste as she enjoyed it.

One thing about Ellie is she loved giving head. She was pussy drunk off you. Popping her fingers out of her mouth, she licked the remaining of your cum from between your legs, leaving none behind.

A small groan was heard from her, you whined feeling her still licking away, your poor clit so sensitive.

“Els… please m’ too sensitive now,” you frowned. You didn’t want her to stop, but god were you sensitive now?

“Sorry… got carried away you taste really good,” she replied, getting up from between your thighs. She leaned down and kissed you, her tongue darting into your mouth for entry, and you felt the taste of yourself lingering in her mouth. That fucking tongue piercing…

You both pulled away, you breathing particularly harder after your intense orgasm. “Lemme get my clothes back on,” you shimmed into your underwear and skirt.

Your legs wobbling as you did, Ellie took notice and bit her lip at the sight.

“Was it that good?” Ellie teased, and you playfully hit her shoulder.

“Oh shut up! You know it was,” you both laughed.

Ellie gently kissed your forehead, “Wanna stay at my place tonight? We should stop for some dinner.

You eagerly nodded, “I would love that, thank you.”

“Course, love. Let’s get to the front of the car now,” you agreed and moved to climb to the passenger seat. Ellie playfully hit your butt as you climbed into the seat.

You gasped, turning back to look at her. She just smirked, getting into the driver's side. You both comfortably got into your seats, and Ellie started the car.

“Ready?” Ellie turned to you, you finished clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Course, let’s go!” You squealed and moved to grab her hand for the ride.

The car drove to her apartment, where you enjoyed late-night fast food and were cuddled to sleep by her. Success? I think so.

—

♡taglist: @lonelyfooryouonly

[glass--beach]

i feel like i’ve been openly trans long enough to deal with so many people trying to tell me what’s wrong with my head & attempt to transplant some neurosis in there and it’s so easy to just be like. no, that’s not me. that’s actually not how i think at all and i don’t worry about the things you think i do. i’m not “trying to be” anyone or anything, i just am.

& then i start to recognize this pattern happening over and over again with not just other trans people but systems & therians et al & it becomes so obvious that it’s all just about trying to fit everyone into an experience/being-in-the-world that just does not line up with the actual multiplicity of experiences that people can attest to. it’s as arbitrary as the gender binary or cissexism or any arguments about heterosexuality being “natural” or whatever, & it’s enforced the same way - through pathologization, through positioning differences in experience of self as being deformations of some platonic ideal individual human self: a concept of self that goes back to liberal enlightenment thought & then further back to the christian idea of the human soul, socially constructed, and therefore, while in a sense “real”, entirely possible to change to account for those hurt by it. it’s all an attempt to reconcile variation by forcing it into strict boundaries, by making all variations subservient to a particular one given higher status in our culture, same as conversion therapy, same as coercive surgeries on intersex people, same as “gender identity disorder”, etc etc, it’s creating a problem where there is none, treating an “illness” that is social/political & not medical.

that’s why i’m here for any alternate conceptions of self - i just trust people to know who they are more than anyone else does, & it’s clear that calling these people crazy does absolutely no good for anybody. what harm is there in letting someone be multiple people or an animal or whatever, if that genuinely can make them feel more connected to themself, their community, and the world at large? there is so much more potential for what people can become and therefore what people can do when we stop projecting the exact same internal life & experience onto everybody

[thebigbadbatswife]

Sticking Noses Where They Don't Belong

Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader Series - Under Your Skin Previous Part - Internal Conflict

Summary - The batfamily starts to dig into Bruce’s personal life.

Warnings - Mentions of canon typical violence, implied/referenced character death and mention of injuries. If I missed anything, lmk!

Taglist - Taglist at the end of the fic, reminder that this is the only taglist I have. If you would like to be added/removed feel free to message me!

A/N - I know it's been another long break between updates, inspiration has been lacking, but good news is that the next part should be up toward the end of this month or at the very start of next month!

Word Count - 1.6k

Sunlight streamed into the clocktower through the large clockface. Gears turned as the pendulum swung back and forth. The ticking filled the silence that hung over the three people crowded in front of the computer screen. On the screen were a list of different files. All of them included various evidence and documents that pertained to different cases that Bruce had worked on solo. 

They were all alphabetically listed and most of them had a tick next to them. An indication of a successfully closed case. The ones that didn’t either had [OPEN] next to their names, for the ones that were still being actively looked in to. While others had a cross. An indication of a case that had run cold and was no longer a priority, for the time being. All of the cold cases could be counted on one hand because of the effort Bruce had always put into them. Doing his best to make sure no stone was left unturned. Even if that meant weeks or months of sleepless nights and neglecting everything else.

Barbara, as well as Dick and Tim, were familiar with all of them except one. It had been hidden to them at first. It was hiding as a subcategory within one of the completed files. It would have gone completely unnoticed unless someone was purposely looking for it. Which they hadn’t been until Tim had spotted the incredible small arrow.

Within that subcategory was a single folder. It was marked with a bat symbol and had a lock on it. They had already made several attempts to get into the case file. Their final attempt warning them that another failed attempt would send out an alert and lock the system down. 

The only reason they had even gone looking into the folders in the first place was because of Tim. He had seen Superman bring back an unconscious Bruce, stating Harley was the cause for the state that he was in. Several days later, once Bruce was awake and talking, he had overheard the conversation he had shared with Superman. He had been asking about someone. Whoever it was, they had been with him when got injured and that had led him to wondering if there was a case that none of them knew about. 

“What about the case it’s attached to?” Dick asked. “Could there be any connection?”

“Maybe, let’s see,” Barbara replied. She backed out of the subcategory and opened up the file it was attached to. 

Even if they weren’t working closely with Bruce, just the name would have them knowing the exact contents. Everyone in Gotham, and even outside of Gotham, knew. It had circulated in the news and online circles for months. 

CASEFILE - SLAUGHTERHOUSE 

They had all seen a lot of things in their line of work that had made their stomachs churn, but this case was one of the worse. In terms of blood, guts and gore, that was. Describing it as gruesome felt like an understatement.

The night had started with a breakout at Arkham. Joker had been silent for months so, in a way, it had been expected. The months leading up to it being the calm before the storm. And like every time he got out, it had been all hands on deck. 

They had started out by checking all of his usual haunts. As crazy as he was, he still remained a creature of habit. Well, most of the time anyway. And there were a lot of his various safehouses scattered across the city. 

It was in the funhouse in the abandoned amusement park that they had finally found a clue. Signs of a struggle. Blood on the floor, a couple of teeth and a smear of that makeup the clown was so fond of. It hadn’t taken the World’s Greatest Detective to figure out who had attacked him so brazenly. 

Harley Quinn. 

She had vanished shortly after her very, very violent, breakup with Joker. A breakup that had almost taken half the city with it. Bruce had spent months looking for her afterwards, concerned of another attack from her considering her ex was still alive and he was sure she would do whatever she had to in order to lure him out.

By the time that Bruce had found out where she was headed with him, it had been too late. At the exact moment that he had run into the slaughterhouse, Harley had shoved Joker into the one of the machines. Over the sounds of the machines running, his screams had been heard, echoing through the building until they fell silent for good.

Harley had managed to escape and disappear while Bruce had emptied his stomach of what little he had eaten before the news of the Arkham breakout. But not before she had made a mess of the Gotham Zoo in order to steal the two hyenas kept there. 

No one had seen her since. Well, until a few days ago when Clark had brought back an unconscious and injured Bruce and Diana had dropped off an unconscious Harley, right on Arkham’s doorstep. While the hyenas had been sent to a sanctuary. 

“We know that Harley’s involved with whatever is on that file. The question is who was with Bruce? It wasn’t Clark or Diana. He wouldn’t ask for their help with dealing with Harley and we know, from the conversation Tim overheard, that he wasn’t by himself. So who was with him?” Dick said, thinking aloud. 

They stood there for a while, trying to think of who could have been with him that night. All they had was a long list of people he wouldn’t work with outside of League duties, for various reasons and excuses. 

“What about one of the League’s newest member?” Tim piped up. “You know, the last set of people they inducted in. It’s been a while since they last did it so the list shouldn’t be too long.” 

“It’s worth a shot,” Dick agreed.

Tim had been correct. The list wasn’t very long. A total of six people had joined during the last induction. Atom. Black Lightning. Doctor Fate. Blue Beetle. Zatanna. And you.

Your file stood out amongst the rest. It was completely neutral. Just facts. None of the comments or remarks or observations that Bruce usually included. It was completely devoid of them. Which was suspicious. Really suspicious. 

It wasn’t the only thing that stood you. There was no personal details anywhere. Not even a remark about your identity, like he had once done during his early years and had first met Selina or run into Riddler. In the boxes that should have had that information there was just question marks. It didn’t even look like there was an attempt to look into you and find out who you were. Which didn’t sound like Bruce at all. Not with his level of paranoia. Especially when it came to strangers. And even more so when those strangers were being considered for the Justice League.

Dick quirked an eyebrow and leant forward onto the desk, as if that would show him something that wasn’t there. The only information there was were the things that you had done before and after joining the League and your skill set. So it wasn’t like he had forgotten to upload things to the secure cloud that Barbara’s system and the Batcomputer shared. 

“Unless he saved the rest of the information locally, this doesn’t make any sense,”  Barbara muttered.

As they got to the very end of the file, there was one tiny that only served to confuse them further. 

Would make a good addition to the Justice League.

“He never does something without a reason. Even if it’s a really bad reason,” Tim trailed off. If there was one thing that Bruce was good at, it was making bad decisions and backing them up with an even worse defence.

With their search through Bruce’s files ending in what they had all considered to be somewhat of a failure, Dick decided to grab his suit and headed for the Watchtower. Maybe he would find some answers there. Or he would just end up with more questions. That was a running theme when it came to Bruce. 

The Watchtower was quiet for the most part. The only Leaguers he ran into were Red Tornado and Hal. He thought about asking them before deciding against it. The last thing that he needed was for it to get back to Bruce about what he and the others were up to. That would certainly bring their investigation to an end if it did.

As Dick was headed toward where he knew Bruce’s lab was, he overheard a couple of voices. Bruce’s and a woman’s. They were hushed. Doing their best to not be overheard. They were also muffled thanks to the closed door. Which made it impossible to make out what was being said.

He continued to creep along the hallway, while also doing his best to not look super suspicious at the same time. He froze when the door opened. You walked out with Bruce at your side. The pace was a slow one. The way that you were holding your side showed that you were very clearly injured. Bruce stayed close to you. Not close enough that he was touching you, but close enough that if you stumbled or something he could easily catch you long before you hit the floor.

Dick watched as the two of you walked down the hallway and he decided to head back the way that he had come from. He still had more questions than answers, but if Bruce caught on to their little investigation they wouldn’t get any answers full stop. For now, he could at least report his findings to the others and they could continue digging deeper at a later date.

*

Taglist - @the-last-twin-of-krypton @bakugous-bakahoe @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @little-rivers @callalily2000 @geminicinderella @theclassicvinyldragon @aniya7 @bluebear19 @jdream55 @x-ratedhimbo @sketchiethebear @wandalfnation

[elrielbaby]

What do you think of the Gwynriels being too confident in their ship? Are you sure Az has feelings for Gwyn and is always looking for her and stuff? And what are they matte?

I have tried, really really tried, to see where they’re coming from. I’ve re read the books multiple times to ensure I’m not missing any context, I’ve looked at it through every angle possible and I still cannot fathom why they are so confident.

I have a couple of theories as to why they’re so confident and I’m feeling a little spicy today, so I’ll share. I could go in to heavy detail, but I’ll try keep it brief anon.

1. They hate Elain and so are looking for any other option. Literally anyone. G*yn happens to be in the bonus chapter and so they go with that, without really thinking about it* (I will circle back to this).

2. They blindly follow the word of one or two people online.They don’t like Elain, or they love L*cien (and they totally miss all the clues that say L*cien doesn’t actually want Elain but that’s a whole other can of worms) and so they accept other people’s interpretations - which those people very intentionally present as fact, and use them as a jumping off point, so when they go back to the books they have that other persons narrative in their head that far better suits their ideals and so they’re looking, twisting, turning any and all of the narrative to fit that. They are gaslighting themselves, basically.

3. They don’t re read the books and they don’t open themselves up to any other possibility. I can say for myself that before I started posting online about elriel, I had heard about G*riel after reading the books and re read them to be sure. I’m nearly positive a lot of them don’t do that, and either never re read or re read as per the second point.

As to the second part of this question, I don’t believe he’s got feelings for G*yn, nor do I think he’s always looking for her - so, I’m very sure of that. If you meant Elain, it’s pretty obviously laid out in the text, without SJM having Azriel and Elain say ‘I’M IN LOVE WITH HIM/HER AND I DONT CARE WHO KNOWS IT’ - because how does that make any sense when they haven’t had their book? If they had, I’d be less sure of their endgame.

As for the last part, I’m going to assume you’re asking if I think either G*yn or Elain are mated to Azriel. I do not believe G*yn is Azriels mate. At all. There are a few signs that Az & Elain could be, but it truly doesn’t matter to me if they are or not. I think SJM has been metaphorically winking at us with some of the things she’s said about them but it could go a number of ways, in terms of wether they’re mates or not.

One things for certain though - they’re endgame ❤���

* to circle back to them not really thinking about it, as I didn’t want to bog down the main text with this, they don’t seem to consider a number of different things.

They don’t consider that it’s a limited bonus chapter that was only available for one specific book store. It is not available in the copies of ACOSF you can buy now, nor was it available in a huge number of copies you could buy at its initial release.

They don’t seem to consider that if you remove the bonus chapter, we still have four books that include build up for them. It literally makes no odds as to wether the bonus matters or not. For them though? Most of their argument relies on that bonus chapter.

They don’t seem to consider any other reason as to why G would be in that bonus chapter. None whatsoever. The Elain part was explicitly romantic and if you look at G’s part there is no romanticism in sight. The ‘spark’ happened after a conversation with Clotho, not even when G was present. Almost like G didn’t actually have anything to do with it at all. If you connect the dots to the main text, at least for my interpretation, you have Elain & Az, who very clearly have feelings for one another. You have G, who has a powerful affect on Nesta, and Clotho who also has, to a smaller extent, a powerful affect on Nesta.

And those are just the few things off the top of my head that I have the bandwidth to come up with right now. ❤️

[your-local-simp-writers]

Ashes of Affection

Word Count: 1610

Warnings: None

Idia Shroud x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The crisp autumn air danced with the scent of fallen leaves and the faint hint of caramel apples as Halloween approached Night Raven College. Orange and purple lights twinkled around the campus, casting playful shadows that flickered like ghosts in the fading daylight. Pumpkins adorned doorsteps, their grinning faces glowing in the twilight, creating a festive ambiance that filled the air with excitement.

You made your way toward the Ignihyde dormitory, your heart fluttering at the thought of spending time with Idia. You had both agreed to take a break from studying to enjoy the Halloween festivities, and you couldn't wait to see what he had planned.

As you approached his door, you paused to admire the decorations he had set up. Cobwebs stretched across the corners of the doorframe, and a few mischievous plastic spiders hung from the ceiling, creating an eerie yet charming vibe. The faint sounds of video game battle cries emanated from within, mixing with the occasional giggle from passing students in costume.

With a gentle knock, you pushed the door open, revealing the organized chaos of Idia’s room. Cables snaked across the floor like vines, and various gaming posters adorned the walls, each telling a story of epic adventures and battles fought. The air was filled with the comforting mix of popcorn and the sweet smell of candy.

Idia looked up from his screen, his eyes widening behind his signature blue hair and glasses. “Y/N!” he exclaimed, a hint of surprise coloring his voice. “You came! I mean, not that I expected you not to come. I just thought maybe—” He fumbled over his words, cheeks turning a light shade of pink as he gestured to the mess around him. “Sorry for the mess. I was in the middle of a game.”

You stepped inside, laughing softly. “It’s fine! I love your setup. The decorations are great! It really feels like Halloween in here.” You admired the makeshift haunted house he had built from cardboard boxes, complete with fake bats and a strobe light that flickered eerily.

“Thanks!” Idia said, a shy smile creeping onto his face. “I thought I’d make it a little festive. Halloween is my favorite time of year, even if it’s mostly just me gaming in the dark.” His fingers danced nervously over the controller, the excitement evident in his demeanor.

You settled down on the floor next to him, your heart warm at the sight of his enthusiasm. “What are we playing today?”

Idia’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Oh! It’s this new RPG that just came out! You get to build your character from scratch, and there’s this Halloween-themed event where you can unlock spooky outfits! There are monsters and magic and… oh, you’ll love it!” He shifted in his chair, excitement radiating from him as he leaned closer, eager to share every detail.

As he explained the plot and the intricate world-building, you noticed how his nervousness seemed to fade away, replaced by the confident glow of someone sharing a passion. The way his eyes sparkled made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but smile at the passion he displayed.

The hours melted away as you both played, laughter echoing in the room when Idia would dramatically react to in-game events. His animated expressions—eyes widening in shock or his mouth forming an exaggerated ‘O’ of surprise—made it impossible not to feel a connection with him. You found yourself leaning into his shoulder, sharing the comfort of the moment.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the room was illuminated only by the glow of the screen and the occasional flicker of the strobe light, casting soft shadows that danced across Idia’s features. You felt a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind that only grew when you were with him.

“Y/N,” he said suddenly, his tone shifting to something more serious. He paused the game, his eyes locking onto yours. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Your heart raced, a mix of curiosity and anxiety bubbling up inside you. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, a hesitant smile creeping onto his face. “Everything I do for you isn’t because I feel obligated. It’s because I love doing it.” He ran a hand through his hair, visibly nervous but determined. “I love spoiling you, making you happy. It makes me feel good, knowing that I can make you smile, or laugh, or turn your frown upside down.”

You could feel the sincerity in his words, your heart swelling as he continued. “I want to give you the world, sweetheart. I want to show you way more than that, but the world is all I got. All I can offer.”

His vulnerability was captivating, and you felt a mix of admiration and affection. “Idia, I…” you started, but he interrupted you, his voice lowering to a whisper.

“I don’t know how to kiss, but let me kiss you, and I’ll do it just right.” There was a raw honesty in his expression, and the earnestness behind his words made your heart flutter even faster.

You cupped his cheek gently, feeling the warmth radiate from him. The world around you faded into a soft blur as you stared into his eyes, which reflected a mixture of excitement and fear. “You’ll figure it out,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just trust your instincts.”

With that encouragement, Idia leaned in, hesitantly closing the distance. Your breaths mingled, the moment stretching out like a melody before you both finally met in a soft kiss. It was gentle at first, almost like a question, but it quickly deepened as he found his rhythm. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the warmth of his emotions wrapping around you like a comforting embrace.

When you finally pulled away, both breathless and wide-eyed, you couldn’t help but laugh. “That was… amazing!” you exclaimed, your cheeks flushed with happiness.

“Really?” Idia’s voice was filled with disbelief, his cheeks matching the hue of a sunset. “I mean, I didn’t mess it up completely, right?”

“Not at all!” You grinned, feeling buoyant. “You kissed me like a pro!”

He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

With a playful glint in your eyes, you leaned closer. “Just imagining a love life with you makes me sick,” you teased, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you both. “In the best way possible, of course.”

His expression shifted from surprise to pure delight, a genuine smile breaking through his typical shyness. “Sick? In a good way?”

“Exactly! I’m just saying that being with you feels like a wild adventure, and I’m all in for that!” You leaned back, your heart feeling light as a feather.

“Then let’s be adventurers together,” he said, his voice low but filled with resolve. “My love, I would burn down the world if it meant I could be in your arms. And I would spend the rest of my life with you rising above the ashes…”

The sincerity in his voice sent shivers down your spine. You knew in that moment that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

As the night wore on, the two of you shared stories and dreams, laughing and teasing each other. The connection between you felt electric, alive with possibilities. You nestled closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as he resumed the game.

“Do you think you’ll ever get tired of me?” he asked, a hint of worry creeping into his tone.

“Not in a million years,” you replied, your voice soft yet firm. “You’re stuck with me, Idia. I like your quirks. I love the way you can get so passionate about things that light you up.”

He turned to look at you, his expression softening. “I’m really glad you think that. I never thought I’d find someone who understands me like you do.”

The vulnerability between you deepened, wrapping you both in a cocoon of intimacy that felt like home. You stayed up late into the night, sharing hopes and dreams, the world outside fading away as you lost yourselves in each other’s laughter and warmth.

As the evening came to a close, you stood at the door, feeling a mix of reluctance and anticipation. Idia followed you, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets as he shuffled beside you.

“Same time tomorrow?” you asked, glancing up at him, your heart fluttering at the thought of another day spent together.

“Of course!” he replied, a wide grin breaking across his face. “I’ll have something special planned for you.”

“Now I’m intrigued,” you teased, leaning closer as you reached for the doorknob.

Idia’s expression turned serious again, and he stepped forward, grabbing your hand before you could open the door. “Y/N, I mean it. You make me want to be better. You inspire me.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you squeezed his hand gently. “You’re already amazing, Idia. Just be yourself. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

With a final smile exchanged, you stepped out into the cool night air, the stars twinkling above you like a promise. As you walked away, the distant sounds of laughter and the crackling of bonfires filled the air, reminding you that the Halloween festivities were just beginning.

You glanced back at the Ignihyde dormitory, the warmth of Idia's confession lingering in your heart like the glow of the pumpkins outside. Halloween had become a night of magic for you, one filled with the spark of new beginnings and the promise of love growing amidst the flickering lights.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Curious what you'd say about Soap for the character ask game. You haven't really spoken about him as much as the others so I'm curious :O (id love to hear about every single character tho i wont lie to you but i have a feeling you'll get asked about those lol)

@nekrosmos asked for Soap too.

Honestly? There is unfortunately a reason. I lingered around fandom for a good few months before I got involved at all. I saw some behaviour from his fanbase that I didn't like and so I made the conscious choice that he's not a character I'd probably be creating much for. I love the art, happy to support creators, etc. Besides, there are so many delicious, delicious rarepairs to love and create for and plenty of gallant, productive, devoted Ghoapers.

He's quite compelling though, and I've got quite a few thoughts and headcanons, and I'm happy to write prompts with him. A few friends on Discord really love him and I like to create for them too, cause happy friends give me the fuzzies. So, you know, a story idea might grip me by the balls and I'll wack out a long form thing.

favorite thing about them

His journals.

Reading those finally gave me a connection with his character that I hadn't developed previously. But they really show how driven he is, how much he wants to be the best he can be, so he's not a burden, so he doesn't let anyone down. He's constantly striving to earn his place to the point that it kills him in the end.

I think he genuinely struggles with wanting to be liked (as part of 'earning his place'), and I think he is often too much for people. Ghost giving back as good as he gets is a comfortable relationship because the line for Ghost is way, way in the distance; Johnny doesn't have to worry like he does with 'normal' people. Neither of them is fuckin' normal.

Price giving him a chance would have been the first step towards the hero-style worship he has for him. "What? Me? Ye want... me? Aye, aye I will be the best fuckin' dog ye ever had, I will bite my own leg off for ye." Everything Soap does is to prove that Price didn't make a mistake. That he was a good investment. And Price, the sly fucker, knows it. He sees himself there.

least favorite thing about them

I wish they had given him a stronger accent and leaned more into that in the games. In fact, I wish that for all of them.

I also think that Soap has capacity to cause great harm without even realising it. Like, we get glimpses of it; he's nearly court-martialled for punching out a copper. In his single-minded pursuit of something, I reckon there could be a lot of collateral damage.

He lacks confidence but will cover it up by being an arsehole and doing arsehole things (such as smuggling a girl on base to impress The Guys). I say I like "least favourite"; I think this makes him compelling as a character. He's not all sunshine and rainbows. He's just as gritty, professional and flawed as the rest of 'em.

favorite line

"You sick bastard..."

"My kingdom for a suppressor..."

"Price?... This belongs to you, sir."

brOTP

Gaz & Soap

OTP

Uh... none really. Ghost/Soap?

nOTP

Don't have any strong feelings on any.

random headcanon

He's really bad at team sport. He showed no interest in any when he was growing up. Gym? Running? Swimming? Anything where the only competition is himself and his own limits? That's where Soap's head is.

unpopular opinion

Honestly? I don't know which of my opinions would be unpopular. Probably the 'not sunshine and rainbows' one, maybe?

song i associate with them

favorite picture of them

[vickyvicarious]

Then, with the fear on me of what might be, I drew a ring so big for her comfort, round where Madam Mina sat; and over the ring I passed some of the wafer, and I broke it fine so that all was well guarded. She sat still all the time—so still as one dead; and she grew whiter and ever whiter till the snow was not more pale; and no word she said. But when I drew near, she clung to me, and I could know that the poor soul shook her from head to feet with a tremor that was pain to feel. I said to her presently, when she had grown more quiet:— "Will you not come over to the fire?" for I wished to make a test of what she could. She rose obedient, but when she have made a step she stopped, and stood as one stricken. "Why not go on?" I asked. She shook her head, and, coming back, sat down in her place. Then, looking at me with open eyes, as of one waked from sleep, she said simply:— "I cannot!" and remained silent. I rejoiced, for I knew that what she could not, none of those that we dreaded could. Though there might be danger to her body, yet her soul was safe!

So yesterday I wrote about how the land itself seems to be affecting Mina. Ever since they left the main road behind and began to approach the castle, she has seemed distinctly more vampiric. But this scene marks the start of another change, I think. Before this moment, she's in the same state as yesterday. When they travel, Mina's fully passed out throughout the day, and she gets alert at night. She's extra charming, she refuses to eat. She isn't aggressive, but she seems to hold an unnatural stillness and attention, much like how she lay where Van Helsing asked her to sleep the night before but simply watched him all night long. She's very quiet.

And then as he puts the holy ward around her, Mina starts to get very pale. The way she does so, and the way she gets paler as he completes this task, seems almost like she is being harmed or frozen by what he is doing. In fact, it reminds me a bit of what Lucy did when the men trapped her outside her crypt:

When within a foot or two of the door, however, she stopped, as if arrested by some irresistible force. Then she turned, and her face was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp, which had now no quiver from Van Helsing's iron nerves. Never did I see such baffled malice on a face; and never, I trust, shall such ever be seen again by mortal eyes. The beautiful colour became livid, the eyes seemed to throw out sparks of hell-fire, the brows were wrinkled as though the folds of the flesh were the coils of Medusa's snakes, and the lovely, blood-stained mouth grew to an open square, as in the passion masks of the Greeks and Japanese. If ever a face meant death—if looks could kill—we saw it at that moment. And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity, she remained between the lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her means of entry.

There are a couple key differences, of course. Mina lacks the rage that Lucy exhibited, and she isn't trying to get away. But something about the way they both just silently freeze and watch as the holy articles are used to keep them trapped feels very reminiscent to me. Also, Jack's entry says Lucy's color "became livid" - and while that word can simply mean angry, it can also be used to mean either reddened or pallid/pale. Given the association with color in how he uses it, I assume it would be one of those. So this could also be a potential connection here, if Lucy also paled in that situation.

But then when Van Helsing gets close to her (I think after he has finished the circle) Mina's reaction of clinging to him reminds me a lot of an entirely different moment: one between her and Jonathan on October 2.

The dear girl was more affectionate with me than ever, and clung to me as though she would detain me; but there was much to be talked of and I came away.

Jonathan was putting Mina to bed (where Dracula had attacked her and would come again) so he could go talk vampire-hunting with the other men. He was actively trying to convince himself throughout this period that the choice to leave her out was correct despite his own misgivings, and Mina herself was also trying not to show how much it bothered her. Still, the only other time Mina is described as "clinging" to someone was when she tried to stop Jonathan running off after Dracula on the 3rd. It's not something she typically does, and I highly suspect it was not just out of affection in this instance. Instead, there was some part of her, suppressed though it was, that knew she was in danger and was terrified to be alone. Mina clinging to Van Helsing here could be related to her fearing for him (as she does a short while later) but I think given her behavior right before this is more easily aligned to another instance of unconscious dread for herself affecting her. The holy circle has affected her and perhaps she fears it, or maybe she fears what its affect on her means. But it's unconscious. She doesn't know why she's doing it and can't express it in words.

Then Van Helsing asks her to leave the circle. And as soon as she does, she wakes up. She freezes in realization, and then she understands. This is Mina coming back to herself much more than before. The holy circle restraining her sort of acts in the same way seeing her scar in the mirror did in the past, by awakening her to the danger her soul is in. But it also does something else, I think, and this is where I get more speculative.

After Mina is put into the circle, her behavior starts to slowly change back. She's not straight back to normal, of course. But she is no longer being super charming during the night. Instead she sits calmly, knowing why she must stay in here. When the vampire women show up, she knows how safe she is from them - both because of the circle and more importantly because she is becoming like them. And yet she does not reply to them, and she expresses her worry for Van Helsing. She looks at them with revulsion and horror - seemingly unaffected by their sweetness.

And while Mina still falls into a deep sleep during the day, she is able to wake at some point in the middle of the day to let out the wail that awakens Van Helsing from his own trance. I suspect that this was around noon, given the significance of that timing, though we don't know for sure. Regardless, she seems to be acting extra-psychic, knowing when Van Helsing is in danger and knowing of Jonathan's approach. This seems less like vampiric magic and more like Mina's own psychic abilities to me. But the real kicker is how she looks when Van Helsing returns: bad. He tells us "She was looking thin and pale and weak; but her eyes were pure and glowed with fervour. I was glad to see her paleness and her illness, for my mind was full of the fresh horror of that ruddy vampire sleep."

After a day spent within the holy circle, Mina appears more human than she has lately. And perhaps some of that is the effect of the day itself (but that hasn't been mentioned the past few days) or maybe the death of the three nearby vampires has lessened the evil influence of the area (seems quite possible, but the change in her started before this). But I think a big part of that is the holy effect surrounding her helping to cleanse at least a little of the vampiric magic within her. It's not going to be enough to heal her, not without Dracula's death, but maybe it slows the process down a little, or at least protects her somewhat from the ambient evil aura that seemed to make her symptoms so much worse so suddenly.

[tintinology]

🤔 🤔 🤔

[queenerdloser]

i just finished dark heir

[corgi-cthuwu]

I personally have this big ass theory on Malek. I was combing thru Reddit looking at others' experiences when the June update released and it got me thinking.

There's two main theories:

1. Malek is the Beast either as Moloch or JUST the Beast with no connection to Moloch.

2. As everyone else could be angels, Malek is Maalik or the Angel of Hell in Islamic Religion.

When Malek first appeared, a lot of readers immediately got the 'the creeps' from him. People were wondering what his role was in the story. Was he the Beast? Some sort of demon or manifestation of evil?

It got to the point where I saw someone mention the Angel Maalik-- the Angel of Hell in Islamic religion. (Considering three out of four main male LI's may or may not be named or have some connection to some angels in Christianity, I had to look up whether or not 'Malek' had some resemblance to a theological character.)

This started some conversation, and I saw someone else mention that Malek actually reminded them of 'Moloch'-- looking this up, Moloch is apparently a Canaanite deity associated (if not the name of the sacrifice itself) with child sacrifice.

They theorized that maybe Malek was actually Moloch-- or the Beast who her cult was worshiping-- who is hunting down or watching the MC because she was supposed to die with her cult that day the SWAT team came in. He missed a sacrifice or something. By extension, Ruth would also be connected to this.

And he said himself-- it's a coincidence that she and Ruth rekindled upon meeting in college, when they were both in the same cult as children. They didn't plan to be friends, or share trauma and meet up. They just bumped into each other, I think. It's also a coincidence that he just so happened to be a professor teaching at that college. (And somehow, he had a relationship with her even tho MC knew her as pious.) He did mention though that he would ask Ruth about the cult, but it was a touchy subject and she preferred not to bring it up. Honestly, if all he wanted was the information, he took the most controversial way to do it.

Which is the weird thing-- if he's the Beast himself, why does he just want information? Why didn't he do something to Ruth once he got what he wanted? He just casually has a day job. (Also why does he own a hotel?)

What disproves this theory (at least, about Moloch), is that Moloch isn't Christian. Moloch is a Canaanite god. MC said that her cult was under a branch of Christianity.

I looked up Moloch, then looked up the goddess Astraea. I noticed one thing-- they're both mentioned (though Astraea very briefly) in Paradise Lost. Moloch is one of the deities working with Satan in his plan to claim Heaven by using Adam and Eve's temptation in the Garden of Eden. Satan also has a third of Heaven's fallen angels and other demons working with him in the uprising.

Malek has this immediate interest in Astrea. First from the MC but later on for his entertainment because he's bored with his monotonous life, as he says, "it is not every day one meets ghost hunters."

⤴️

THIS LINE. EITHER HE'S BEING VERY PRESUMPTIVE OR HE JUST FUCKIN KNOWS

> He said he had no prior knowledge of Astrea before the MC introducd him to it, but he could be lying (or he genuinely didn't have any idea but that information hasn't been revealed yet, which is more likely).

When he and Mikael make an arrangement to work together, he seems a bit too eager.

> "Malek smiled a little bit too cheerfully and extended his hand."

Three out of four of the male LI's are named/have names that closely resemble some angels in the bible. Mikael, could be Archangel Michael-- the chief of angels. Then there's Raphael who IS proven to be Archangel Raphael, and lastly there's Cassiel, who could be Archangel Cassiel, one of the Seven Archangels in the bible along with Michael and Raphael.

If Malek is the Beast himself... His interest in Astrea could indicate wanting to get through the inner-workings of the agency (Heaven, I guess) because of the three guys over there who could be literal angels. He wants to get the upper hand, maybe using the MC from within with her connection with both the agency and the Beast. There's a similar plot in Paradise Lost. The classic Heaven vs. Hell. Hell is working from the inside, through 'Paradise' which is the Garden of Eden. Hell being the snake. It's been described as a civil war by some.

TLDR;

Anyway, what's more likely? The fact that Malek is the Beast MC's cult was worshipping when she and Ruth were children, he's extracting information about his own cult for some reason, and he's slowly but surely getting what he wants... OR...

That he's Maalik, the Islamic Angel of Hell and is tasked with overseeing its gates and sinners? Which makes more sense because he's a forensic psychologist? His last name is literally SINNER.

But if he is Maalik, why is he going against Astrea...? He is an angel, after all.

In any case, Malek could still be connected to the Beast without being it. He seemed awfully guilty/self-aware if MC picks him during the scene where she dies.

Or he could still be the Beast and the rest of the info hasn't been expounded yet.

...Maybe he is Maalik, but SOMEHOW got kicked out of Heaven (fallen angel?) and is now working with the Beast?

- Hence his controversial black-and-white opinions about society (other than having to guard sinners for a living, being kicked outta Heaven must make you question things), his "take the most out of life" attitude (where society suppresses you so it's easier to dispose you later), his sudden guilt, and eager interest in Astrea.

- It would also makes sense why he's being so nosy about the Beast, and the cult-- it's because he's working for it. The connection between MC and Astrea would be too perfect if this was true. He wants information. He is the snake that goes against Heaven.

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Spider-Man India, but... where from India?

A SUPER long post featuring talks of: cultural identity, characterisation, the caste system, and what makes Spider-Man Spider-Man.

I’m prefacing this by saying that I am a second-generation immigrant. I was born in Australia, but my cultural background is from South India. My experiences with what it means to be “Indian” is going to be very different from the experiences of those who are born and brought up in India.

If you, reader, want to add anything, please reblog and add your thoughts. This is meant to be a post open for discussion — the more interaction we get, the better we become aware of these nuances.

So I made this poll asking folks to pick a region of India where I would draw Pavitr Prabhakar in their cultural wear. This idea had been on my mind for a long while now, as I had been inspired by Annie Hazarika’s Northeastern Spidey artwork in the wake of ATSV’s release, but never got the time to actually do it until now. I wanted to get a little interactive and made the poll so I could have people choose which of the different regions — North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South — to do first.

The outcome was not what I expected. As you can see, out of 83 votes:

THE RESULTS

South India takes up almost half of all votes (44.6%), followed by Northeast and Central (both 14.5%) and then East (13.3%). In all my life growing up, support towards or even just the awareness of South India was pretty low. Despite this being a very contained poll, why would nearly half of all voters pick South India in favour of other popular choices like Central or North India?

Then I thought about the layout of the poll: Title, Options, Context.

Title: "Tell us who you want to see…"

Options: North, Northeast, Central, East, West, South

Context: I want to make art of the boy again

At first I thought: ah geez. this is my fault. I didn't make the poll clear enough. do they think I want them to figure out where Pavitr came from? That's not what I wanted, maybe I should have added the context before the options.

Then I thought: ah geez. is it my fault for people not reading the entire damn thing before clicking a button? That's pretty stupid.

But regardless, the thought did prompt a line of thinking I know many of us desi folk have been considering since Spider-Man India was first conceived — or, at least, since the announcement that he was going to appear in ATSV. Hell, even I thought of it:

Where did Spider-Man India come from?

FROM A CULTURALLY DIVERSE INDIA

As we know, India is so culturally diverse, and no doubt ATSV creators had to take that into account. Because the ORIGINAL Spider-Man India came from Mumbai — most likely because Mumbai and Manhattan both started with the same letter.

But going beyond that, it’s also because Mumbai is one of the most recognisable cities in India - it’s also known as Bombay. It’s where Bollywood films are shot. It’s where superstar Hindi actors and actresses show up. Mumbai is synonymous with India in that regard, because the easiest way Western countries can interact with Indian culture is through BOLLYWOOD, through HINDI FILMS, through MUMBAI. Suddenly, India is Mumbai, India is a Hindi-only country, India is just this isolated thing we see through an infinitely narrow lens.

We’ve gotten a little better in recent years, but boy I will tell you how uncomfortable I’ve gotten when people (yes, even desi people) come up to me and tell me, Oh, you’re Indian right? Can you speak Hindi? Why don’t you speak Hindi? You’re not Indian if you don’t speak Hindi, that’s India’s national language!

I have been — still am — so afraid of telling people that I don’t speak Hindi, that I’m Tamil, that I don’t care that Hindi is India’s “national” language (it’s an administrative language, Kavin, get your fucking facts right). It’s weird, it’s isolating, and it has made me feel like I wasn’t “Indian” enough to be accepted into the group of “Indian” people.

So I am thankful that ATSV went out of their way to integrate as much variety of Indian culture into the Mumbattan sequence. Maybe that way, the younger generation of desi folk won’t feel so isolated, and that younger Western people will be more open to learning about all these cultural differences within such a vast country.

BUT WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH SPIDER-MAN INDIA?

Everything, actually. There’s a thing called supremacy. You might have heard of it. We all engaged with it at some point, and if you are Indian, no matter where you live, it is inescapable.

It happens the moment you are born — who your family is, where you are born, the language you speak, the colour of your skin; these will be bound to you for life, and it is nigh impossible to break down the stereotypes associated with them.

Certain ethnic groups will be more favourable than others (Centrals, and thus their cultures, will always be favoured over than Souths, as an example) and the same can be said for social groups (Brahmins are more likely to secure influential roles in politics or other areas like priesthood, while the lowers castes, especially Dalits, aren’t even given the decency of respect). Don’t even get me started on colourism, where obviously those of fairer skin will win the lottery while those of darker skin aren’t given the time of day. It’s even worse when morality ties into it — “lighter skinned Indians, like Brahmins, embody good qualities like justice and wisdom”, “dark skinned Indians are cunning and poor, they are untrustworthy”. It’s fucking nuts.

This means, of course, you have a billion people trying to make themselves heard in a system that tries to crush everyone who is not privileged. It only makes sense that people want to elevate themselves and break free from a society that refuses to acknowledge them. These frustrations manifest outwardly, like in protests, but other times — most times — it goes unheard, quietly shaping your way of life, your way of thinking. It becomes a fundamental part of you, and it can go unacknowledged for generations.

So when you have a character like Pavitr Prabhakar enter the scene, people immediately latch onto him and start asking questions many Western audiences don’t even consider. Who is he? What food does he eat? What does he do on Fridays? What’s his family like, his community? All these questions pop up, because, amidst all this turmoil going on in the background, you want a mainstream popular character to be like you, who knows your way of life so intimately, that he may as well be a part of your community.

BUT THAT'S THE THING — HE'S FICTIONAL

I am guilty of this. In fact, I’ve flaunted in numerous posts how I think he’s the perfect Tamil boy, how he dances bharatanatyam, how he does all these Tamil things that no one will understand except myself. All these niche things that only I, and maybe a few others, will understand.

I’ve seen other people do it, too. I’ve seen people geek out over his dark brown skin, his kalari dhoti, how he fights so effortlessly in the kalaripayattu martial arts style. I’ve seen people write him as Malayali, as Hindi, as every kind of Indian person imaginable.

I’ve also seen him be written where he’s subjected to typical Indian and broader Asian stereotypes. You know the ones I’m so fond of calling out. The thing is, I’ve seen so much of Pavitr being presented in so many different ways, and I worry how the rest of the desi folk will take it. 

You finally have a character who could be you, but now he’s someone else’s plaything. Your entire life is shaped by what you can and can’t do simply because you were born to an Indian family, and here’s the one person who could represent you now at the mercy of someone else’s whims. He’s off living a life that is so distant from yours, you can hardly recognise him.

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, yeah? But, again, you’re looking at it from that infinitely narrow lens Westerners use to look at India from Bollywood.

AND PAVITR PRABHAKAR DOESN'T LIVE IN INDIA

He lives in Mumbattan. He lives in a made-up, fictional world that doesn’t follow the way of life of our world. He lives in a city where Mumbai and Manhattan got fucking squashed together. There are so many memes about colonialism right there. Mumbattan isn’t real! Spider-Man India isn’t real!! He’s just a dude!! The logic of our world doesn’t apply to him!!!

“But his surname originates from ______” okay but does that matter?

“But he’s wearing a kalari dhoti so surely he’s ______” okay but does that matter?

“But his skin colour is darker so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?

“But he lives in Mumbai so he must be ______” okay but does that matter?

I sound insensitive and brash and annoying and it looks like I’m yapping just for the sake of riling you up, so direct that little burst of anger you got there at me, and keep reading.

Listen. I’m going to ask you a question that I’ve asked myself a million times over. I want you to answer honestly. I want you to ask this question to yourself and answer honestly:

Are you trying to convince me on who Pavitr Prabhakar should be?

... but why shouldn't i?

I’ll tell you this again — I did the same thing. You’re not at fault for this, but I want you to just...have a little think over. Just a little moment of self-reflection, to think about why you are so intent on boxing this guy.

It took me a while to reorganise my thinking and how to best approach a character like Pavitr, so I will give you all the time you need as well as a little springboard to focus your thoughts on.

SPIDER-MAN (INDIA) IS JUST A MASK

“What I like about the costume is that anybody reading Spider-Man in any part of the world can imagine that they themselves are under the costume. And that’s a good thing.”

Stan Lee said that. Remember how he was so intent on making sure that everybody got the idea that Spider-Man as an entity is fundamentally broken without Peter Parker there to put on the suit and save the day? That ultimately it was the person beneath the mask, no matter who they were, that mattered most?

Spider-Man India is no less different. You can argue with me that Peter Parker!Spidey is supposed to represent working class struggles in the face of leering corporate entities who endanger the regular folk like us, and so Pavitr Prabhakar should also function the same way. Pavitr should also be a working class guy of this specific social standing fighting people of this other social standing.

But that takes away the authenticity of Spider-Man India. Looking at him through the Peter Parker lens forces you to look at him through the Western lens, and it significantly lessens what you can do with the character — suddenly, it’s a fight to be heard, to be seen, to be recognised. It’s yelling over each other that Pavitr Prabhakar is this ethnicity, is that caste, this or that, this or that, this or that.

There’s a reason why he’s called Spider-Man India, infuriatingly vague as it is. And that’s the point — the vagueness of his identity fulfils Lee’s purpose for a character that could theoretically be embodied by anyone. If he had been called “Spider-Man Mumbai”, you cut out a majority of the population (and in capitalist terms, you cut out a good chunk of the market).

And in the case of Spider-Man India? Whew — you’ve got about a billion people imagining a billion different versions of him.

Whoever you are, whatever you see in Pavitr, that is what is personal to you, and there is nothing wrong with that, and I will not fault you for it. I will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from Central due to the origins of his last name. I also will not fault you for saying Pavitr is from South due to him practising kalaripayattu. I also will not fault you for saying he is not Hindu. I also will not fault you for saying he is a particular ethnicity without any proof.

What I will fault you for is trying to convince me and the others around you that Pavitr Prabhakar should be this particular ethnicity/have this cultural background because of some specific reason. I literally don’t care and it is fundamentally going against his character, going against the “anyone can wear the mask” sentiment of Spider-Man. By doing this, you are strengthening the walls that first divided us. You’re feeding the stratification and segmentation of our cultures — something that is actually not present in the fictional world of Mumbattan.

Like I said before: Mumbattan isn’t real, so the divides between ethnicities and cultural backgrounds are practically nonexistent. The best thing is that it is visually there for all to see. My favourite piece of evidence is this:

It’s a marquee for a cinema in the Mumbattan sequence, in the “Quick tour: this is where the traffic is” section. It has four titles; the first two are written in Hindi. The third title is written in Bengali*, and the fourth title is written in Tamil. You go to Mumbai and you won’t see a single shred of Bengali nor Tamil there, much less any other language that's not common in Maharashtra (Western India). Seeing this for the first time, you know what went through my head?

Wow, the numerous cultures of India are so intermingled here in Mumbattan! Everyone and everything is welcome!

I was happy, not just because of Tamil representation, but because of the fact that the plethora of Indian cultures are showcased coexisting in such a short sequence. This is India embracing all the little parts that make up its grander identity. This scene literally opened my eyes seeing such beauty in all the diverse cultures thriving together. In a place where language and cultural backgrounds blend so easily, each one complementing one another.

It is so easy to believe that, from this colourful palette of a setting, Pavitr Prabhakar truly is Spider-Man India, no matter where he comes from.

It’s easy to believe that Pavitr can come from any part of India, and I won’t call you out if the origin you have for him is different from the origin I have. You don’t need to stake out territory and stand your ground — you’re entitled to that opinion, and I respect it. In fact, I encourage it!!!

Because there’s only so much you can show in a ten minute segment of a film about a country that has such a vast history and even greater number of cultures. I want to see all of it — I want him to be a Malayali boy, a Hindi boy, a Bengali boy, a Telugu boy, an Urdu boy, whatever!! I want you to write him or draw him immersed in your culture, so that I can see the beauty of your background, the wonderful little things that make your culture unique and different from mine!

And, as many friends have said, it’s so common for Indian folks to be migrating around within our own country. A person with a Maharashtrian surname might end up living in Punjab, and no one really minds that. I’m actually from Karnataka, my family speaks Kannada, but somewhere down the line my ancestors moved to Tamil Nadu and settled down and lived very fulfilling lives. So I don’t actually have the “pure Tamil” upbringing, contrary to popular belief; I’ve gotten a mix of both Kannada and Tamil lifestyles, and it’s made my life that much richer. 

So it’s common for people to “not” look like their surname, if that’s what you’re really afraid about. In fact, it just adds to that layer of nuance, that even despite these rigid identities between ethnicities we as Indian people still intermingle with one another, bringing slivers of our cultures to share with others. Pavitr could just as well have been born in one state and moved around the country, and he happens to live in Mumbattan now. It’s entirely possible and there’s nothing to disprove that.

We don’t need to clamber over one another declaring that only one ethnicity is the “right” ethnicity, because, again, you will be looking at Pavitr and the rest of India in that narrow Western lens — a country with such rich cultural variety reduced to a homogenous restrictive way of life.

THE POLL: REINTERPRETED

This whole thing started because I was wondering why my little poll was so skewed — I thought people assumed I was asking them where he came from, then paired his physical appearance with the most logical options available. I thought it was my fault, that I had somehow influenced this outcome without knowing.

Truth is, I will never really know. But I will be thankful for it, because it gave me the opportunity to finally broach this topic, something that many of us desi folk are hesitant to talk about. I hope you have learned something from this, whether you are desi or a casual Spider-Man fan or someone who just so happened to stumble upon this. 

So just…be a little more open. Recognise that India, like many many countries and nations, is made up of a plethora of smaller cultures. And remember, if you’re trying to convince Pavitr that he’s a particular ethnicity, he’s going to wave his hand at you and say, “Ha, me? No, I’m one of the people that live here in the best Indian city! I’m Spider-Man India, dost!”

(Regardless, he still considers you a friend, because to him, the people matter more to him than you trying to box him into something he’s not.)

*Note: thank you dear anon for letting me know that the third title was Bengali, twas my mistake for literally completely forgetting

[sforzesco]

poetry might not convince me to pay attention or care about the medici family beyond necessity, but you CAN convince me to turn the spotlights directly onto lorenzo de' medici with phrasing like this. intimately linked. even wedded, you say. and with galeazzo maria sforza's named mentioned. fascinating choice of words.

Magnifico: the Brilliant Life and Times of Lorenzo de’ Medici, Miles J. Unger

[corys-nsp-fixation]

Due to SGCBarberian's TCD series most likely coming back it's made me semi-ill over it again.

So I'm gonna share an au concept that's on and off plaguing me. [That I think is post-inspired however I think my brain made the post up since I can't find it-]

The concept started as Redstoner Ross & Doctor Ross being the same person.

And then that gave me the idea of Doctor Ross having panic attacks every now and again bc of (what he calls) "a traumatizing hallucinational episode and or hyper realistic coma"

He'd hate whenever one came up bc in his head that's vulnerability he can't have due in the moment and almost certainly hates how he is at times because of how he is.

How could they be the same person? You may ask

Well, I somewhat have an answer. I wrote the au concept a couple days ago & just started re-thinking about it since I'm ill over both redstoner & doctor Ross.

However the current concept is some sort of cruel experimentation of sorts [maybe- idk I'm still thinking about how they could be the same place- Dr. Ross himself doesn't even fully know if it was a real experience or not so there's that-]

[mstepenwolf]

the astrologer was so right about this month being productive in terms of dating and preparations for the future. i think i found a master's program i'm interested in pursuing in a year, and right now i'm focusing on the finals and internship search. going on a trip to the beach in a week... a lot of things are happening.

[fruitsyrups]

i think your hat post is really cool and interesting but susan’s hat is a cat and i will die on this hill

this is true!!! when i was talking about the modern human hats not resembling animals i meant all of these ones

(excluding the minerva-bots and finn of course)

[sysig]

Grump and not so grump (Patreon)