#man just wants to take over the world for his kid that’s it

[heideez]

man i just love the sea grunkles 😭😭🫶🫶

a few (many) frequently written elements that i love and wanna talk about bc i feel like yapping:

- ford’s health anxiety. when he worries about stan’s health to a ridiculous degree, or oscillates between “he can have whatever he wants his mind got erased!! he saved the world!!” and “oh my god he’s going to die this man is in such poor health i need to concoct 357 potions to regrow his teeth and fix his eyes and—”

- stan reintroducing ford to human food. yes king you throw those fucking nutrient pills overboard! especially love when ford rediscovers his love for sweet things. no way this man was not malnourished coming thru the portal.

- looking identical again. the previous two often play into this with stan being more active/eating better and losing weight, ford actually eating and gaining some, plus them being back together + in sync just makes them look more similar + honestly ten years younger.

- mutual guilt. both of them are haunted by their past mistakes, but constantly dismiss the other’s. they both blame themselves for their mess of a history and are constantly trying to reassure their twin. “it was my fault.” “no, it was My fault!”

-mutual anxiety over the other’s safety. especially after ford learns more about stan’s past. they are determined to die of simultaneous heart attacks and will not hear it any other way (they both secretly think they’ll die first but ford is blatantly wrong and in denial)

- them acting like kids again/behaving childishly. they both deserve this, plus they return to elements of their dynamic that existed the last time it was good, which would have been as teens.

-petty fights. both of these men are deeply flawed. let them argue over shit that does not matter and then instantly regret it because they’ve lost Too Much Time.

- both being inept with modern technology. bonus points if ford takes the phone like “ill handle this” and fails to handle it. extra bonus points if fiddleford navigates it easily.

- PLATONIC (!!!!!!!) physical touch/cuddles. bonus points if feral ford is involved here. but i just love it in general because i feel like that’s their love language in a way. wether it’s playful shoves/noogies or freaking out and needing to be close to each other after nightmares, across the board it’s one of my favorite things with them.

- stan demonstrating his accrued science knowledge but Choosing not to use the calculations side of it because he hates it and it reminds him of the portal work (unless ford asks very nicely or gives him the puppy dog eyes)

- stan being unable to say no to ford. not like literally unable but he’s Very easily guilted and again. the puppy dog/sad wet bird eyes. bonus points if stan uses similar tactics to get ford to do basic self care!

anyway expect some sea grunkles content from me soon because they live in my brain. and let me know if you have any more tropes you love with them, because i always want to hear people’s yap/thoughts on them and their dynamic.

(this is all 10000% and strictly platonic. do NOT tag as ship or i will instantly block you. hate that i have to say this.)

[todomochi-uwu]

him. (1/?) | P. D. A & R. Z

Pairing(s): Portgas D. Ace x reader; Roronoa Zoro x reader Genre: Smut, Angst Warnings: This content is for a mature audience Synopsis: "It was Ace. It was always Ace." Author's notes: Let's see if this pulls me out of the fucking block once and for all. And yes, this is purely and utterly self-indulgent.

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

You couldn´t remember a time in your life when your heart didn’t belong to Luffy’s older brother, Ace. After the stereotypically meet-cute where he saved you from a bunch of bullies on the playground,  

“Leave her alone, you idiot!” He said pushing the leader to the ground, who was pulling on your hair, while you begged him to stop. “If I catch any of you bothering her again, I’ll beat the shit out of you.” Ace, always great with words —at least enough to scare your abusers (he also happened to be an older kid).  

“Are you okay?” He extended his hand and gave you his signature smile. Right there, your destiny was sealed. You had been sentenced to spend your next years in this world completely and irrevocably in love with your childhood saviour. 

After this event, you attached yourself to his hip, quickly getting to know his brothers and friends and becoming a part of the group. Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Sanji, and Usopp, who were the same age as you, were quick to open their hearts to you and offer unconditional friendship, but though you loved them immensely, Ace was always the biggest and brightest star in your heart. 

He was always there for you, either to help with homework, 

“I’m going to be completely honest with you Y/n, I have no clue as to how to divide decimals.” 

“Huh? But you learnt this a couple of years ago, didn’t you?” 

“Dear, do I look like a math guy to you?” 

With life problems, 

“My mom is such an asshole; she won’t stop treating me like I’m a child. I can take care of myself.” 

“I’m sure it's hard for her to see you grow up, love. Besides, you are asking her to stay in a cabin with a bunch of guys.” 

“Nami will be there!” 

“Still.” 

Or some other... more complicated problems. 

“I can’t go to college being a virgin Ace, everyone will make fun of me.” 

“Babe, no one will even care, trust me.” He rubbed your back in circles. 

"That's easy for you to say, you fuck everything that moves.” You punched his arm. It hurt a bit to say, you wouldn’t lie, but it was what it was. 

“Y/n don’t worry... wait, no I don’t! Where do you even get that?!” 

“Sabo always complains of how loud you are.” A small giggle escaped your lips. 

“Fucking... I don’t fuck everything that moves, yeah, I have some experience, but I’m not a man-whore.” He scratched the back of his head, blushing. 

You sighed, throwing yourself back on the bed. “Maybe I should just get it over with, maybe date someone briefly...”, you threw a pillow into your face, “or ask one of the guys, or whatever, Sanji might say yes.”  

“Hey, okay you don’t need to stress yourself about it. You being a virgin doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a social concept, you know?” Pushing the pillow away from your face, “but it’s still a new experience, and it should be with someone who’ll love you and respect you.” 

“Sanji is a bit much, but I think...” 

“Don’t fuck one of your best friends, Y/n.” 

“But he loves me and respects me, he’s weird about it, but...” 

“You are really set on this, are you?” 

Shrugging your shoulders, you nodded, “I just want to take the pressure off, you know? I want the full college experience, without having to limit myself.” 

He sighed, his ears slowly turning bright red, “Okay, well, if it’s that important to you,” he turned his face away, “I can help you with that.” He whispered. 

Holy shit. Your eyes opened wide, and your mouth dried up. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing —of course, you had thought about it, more times than you cared to admit, but you never thought it would be a possibility. You had quickly realized that Ace always thought of you as a smaller sister, taking care of you as such; never noticing, or acknowledging, your feelings for him.  

“I want this to be a good experience for you, —as good as it can be. So, if you want, and feel comfortable, I will,” his cheeks more and more tinted, “be your first time.” 

That’s how Ace had completely ruined you for other men, he made the experience as complete and pleasant as it could be. He took you out on a date, took you to your favourite café, remembered your usual order; took a stroll around the park, holding your hand, and making you laugh all the while; finally, to taking you back to his flat. 

“You can back out at any point, love. Just say the word, tap me twice, hell even punch me if you need it, and I will stop right away.”  

You simply nodded in response, too nervous to speak. 

He caressed your arms and hands, trying to appease your poor mind. He kissed you softly, tracing small figures in the back of your head with his fingertips, his movements moving south, reaching your waist and ending their path at your thighs. 

“May I take your clothes off, gorgeous?” 

You pushed off one of the straps of your dress, now eager to continue. He stopped you. 

“Let me do it.” 

You had almost forgotten it. As much of a virgin as you may be, you wanted to be prepared, so, you had dragged Nami to the mall, in search of the right lingerie set. One who would make you feel confident enough in your skin (and one that wasn’t a fucking enigma to put on). At first, she was confused, why did you need lingerie? Last she knew you weren’t dating anyone. Was it just for you? Half the time you were wearing sweatpants and a dirty sweatshirt you stole from Usopp. 

“Nami, please just help me.” You grabbed a black set with a pantie line that was almost non-existent, “whose fucking pussy fits in this?” 

"I mean, you are not supposed to go out in this, it will take you more time to put it on than for the guy to take it off." She stared at you, "Y/n, why are we even buying lingerie?” 

You turned bright red, “umm...” 

“Are you seeing someone? Is Zoro? Sanji? Oh god, please tell me it's not Sanji.” 

“No, no, it’s not them, and I’m not exactly seeing him." You pulled and hung back different clothes, not daring to look at her, it was until you pulled an orange and black set, “what do you think about this one?” 

“What do you...?” She turned to see it, the confusion in her face quickly being replaced with shock, “Holy shit, are you fucking Ace?!” She yelled. 

“Shh! Nami, what the fuck?! I don’t need the entire mall to find out.” 

“How? Since when? I mean, we all know you’ve always had a crush on him, but...” 

“He offered to take my virginity.” 

“What?!” 

After a brief and whispered-yelled explanation, you filled her in. She looked unsure about your decision, but at the end of the day, it was Ace, and she trusted him as much as you did (also, she isn’t blind, even if she isn’t into guys she could admit how hot he is).  

“I think he’ll love that on you.” 

His eyes were glued to the cloth that adorned your chest, following the flower pattern with his fingers. He gulped, feeling his sanity slip away. He had to get his shit together. 

“Do you like it?” Not daring to look him in the eyes. 

“Did you get this for me?” 

You nodded shyly. 

"I love it." 

His hands were soft against your skin, his lips kissing and sucking every single inch of your being; the words he would whisper in your ear made your knees grow weak. The way his fingers reached places yours never could, his tongue enveloping your bundle of nerves introducing you to a new world of sensations, his teeth marked the skin around your nipples making you throw your head back in ecstasy. You would beg for the next step, bucking up your hips against his, but he decided to be a tease about it. 

“I’m not sure you are ready for my cock, princess.” 

His dirty talk sent waves down your core, making you whine, "Please, Ace." 

“Mm...” He hummed against your skin, “How much do you want it?” 

“Ace, please, please make love to me.” 

That seemed to ground him a bit, "Okay, my love." 

He tapped the tip of his dick against your clit a couple of times, then dragged it up and down your entrance, “Tell me if hurts, okay?” And like that, he pushed himself inch by inch. 

Your mouth opened, letting out small moans and gasps, the sensation quite foreign to you, he was quite bigger than your fingers, stretching you out in a way you'd never been before. “Oh my god.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a second, please don’t move.” Completely overwhelmed. 

“Of course.” He stilled himself, lowering his face to place small kisses on the valley of your breasts and neck. 

After a couple of minutes, you allowed him to continue. He started with small, almost fearful thrusts, closely watching every single change in your expression, until you threw your head back and moaned along, “There, right there! Don’t stop!” 

With renewed confidence, his hips moved more securely, bulling that spot inside of you, “There, baby? Does it feel good?”  

“Yes! Oh god, Ace!” Your nails scratched down his back. 

“Fuck babe, you are driving me crazy.” 

His moans filled your ears, you didn’t know someone could sound so heavenly. His hands gripped the plush flesh of your hips so tightly and possessive you were sure it would leave marks, but you didn’t care, he could mark all he wanted, you were his. He pushed himself off you, not stopping his pace, "You look so fucking beautiful”, his kisses were messy and desperate. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, eyes at the back of your skull, and your mouth unable to pronounce anything but his name. His eyes closed, mouth letting out whines and whimpers in the form of your name, his pelvis pushing against your clit. 

His tip kept bullying your cervix, making you clench even tighter around his length, Ace knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but he had to make you cum first. He needed it. 

“Common, baby. Give it to me, cum around my cock, please." His pace became quicker and rougher, and his thumb drew circles on your clit, “I need to feel you cumming around me, please give it to me.” 

Hearing him beg for you was your last straw, the knot in your belly bursting and sending your entire body and mind into complete ecstasy, “Ace!”  

Your walls contracted against his cock, pushing him over the edge, “Fuck, Y/n!” His essence filling the condom, he silently wished it was inside you instead. 

You pushed your forearms against your face, covering your face while trying to regain your breath, you could feel the throbbing of your legs' muscles and the shivers running down your spine. 

“Love? Are you okay?” He pushed away the arm covering you, “Y/n is everything alright?” 

You giggled and nodded. You were happy. 

He giggled right back, “Good. Let me clean you up, then we can cuddle.” 

Oh, you and your poor heart. 

A week after you were at Nami’s house, celebrating your weekend before you were off to college. You made your way through the crowd, in search of any of your friends, how the hell did Nami know so many people? Thankfully, you quickly spotted Usopp and Luffy downing shots in the kitchen bar. 

“Slow down boys, or you’ll have a massive hangover tomorrow.” 

“Loosen up, Y/n. We are in college now, have some fun. Here.” Usopp passed you a cup, no idea what kind of alcohol or mix was inside it, "Chug it.” 

Well, if he insists. 

Half an hour later you were screaming the lyrics of a song you barely recognized at the top of your lungs, leaning against Luffy while he shoved his mouth with snacks. Nami had finally found you, dragging Sanji and Zoro with her. 

“I have been looking for you all over the place, come on!” She grabbed your hand, now taking you and your drink buddies into another room. 

All of you were tipsy, well a bit more than that, but managed to sit in a circle on the floor. Nami opened a bottle of tequila and poured it into the small red cups, “we need to toast to us making it to college.” 

“We got wasted back when we received our acceptance letters, we couldn’t stop throwing up the next day, don’t you remember?” Zoro groaned. 

“Yeah, yeah, but now the day is almost there, a lot has happened since, hasn’t it Y/n?” 

“Shut up, Nami.” The blush on your cheeks wasn’t from the alcohol in your veins. 

“What happened, Y/n?” Luffy said, tilting his head in curiosity. Of course, that was the one time he would catch onto something.  

“Nothing important, Luff don't worry about it.” 

Nami let out a drunk laugh, “Oh no, it wasn’t just important, it was massive.” 

“Nami!” You shoved her playfully. 

“Okay, what’s going on? What’s with all the secrecy?” Sanji said exasperated. 

Your best friend grabbed and shook you by the shoulders, "Our girl here, is officially the second member in our crew to lose her virginity." 

“Nami!” 

“What?!” Sanji’s eyes almost shot out of his head, “When? Where? How? With whom? How could you, Y/n?!” 

“Last week.” Nami continued. “With Ace.” 

The crew went crazy, asking you a thousand questions, screaming around and laughing like hyenas. You were bombarded with questions by Sanji and Nami, while Luffy made a grossed-out expression, not wanting to know so much about his brother. None of you seemed to notice how one crew member had checked out of the conversation and stepped out onto the balcony. 

He didn’t want to admit it, but his heart had fallen and cracked into the ground. His hands gripped the railing tightly, trying to control the knot that had formed in his throat.  

Of course, it was Ace. It was always Ace.  

“Are you okay, man?” He heard Usopp opening the door behind him. 

“It’s whatever.” 

"I'm sorry, Zoro." He patted him on the back, "I still don’t think you should give up on it. I believe you guys should be together.” 

The green-haired man looked at the sky, his chest aching, "yeah well, she believes she should be with Ace.”  

[vinnyvamppp]

Omg now I need more of Nolan x reader 😭😭 I gotta know did he go on years without being caught? Was it successful? More than one kid with the reader!?!? Ok I’ll stop there-

The Replacement PT 3

NOTE: HERE IT IS, FOLKS. All questions will be answered here, though some are ambiguous, so you're free to theorize about them alone.

Synopsis: Bound by loyalty, desire, and the weight of their Viltrumite blood, you and Nolan push and pull in a battle of dominance neither is willing to fully surrender. But when passion and power collide, the lines between control and submission blur—until neither of you can walk away unscathed. You both lost.

Warnings: Smut, Cheating/Infidelity, Shift in Family Dynamics, Pre-Invincible Timeline, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Dom!Nolan Grayson, Power Bottom! Reader, Changes to Plot For Convenience, Drama, Childhood Friends, etc.

Omni-Man/Nolan Grayson x Fem!Viltrumite!Reader

Word Count: 4,333

You smirk, pushing against his chest with enough force to make him shift back a step. “You act like I don’t know your tricks, Nolan. I’ve seen you use this same routine a thousand times.” His eyes narrow, and in an instant, you’re on your back, wrists pinned above your head. His body is heavy, unyielding, but his smirk mirrors yours. “And yet, here you are. Under me. Again.”

You twist, trying to free your hands, and for a second, his grip loosens—just enough for you to flip him onto his back instead. Now you’re on top, pinning his wrists down for once. “Looks like I win this round.” His gaze darkens. He doesn’t struggle. Doesn’t even move. He just stares up at you, a slow smirk curling at the edges of his mouth. “Do you really think I’d let you win?”

Before you can react, his strength surges beneath you, flipping you again so fast the air leaves your lungs. This time, he doesn’t just pin your wrists—he presses your arms down, keeping you immobile. His mouth brushes over your jaw as he speaks, his voice thick with amusement. “Cute attempt.” You scoff. “Admit it. I had you for a second.”

His teeth graze your neck, sharp, teasing. “Maybe. But seconds don’t matter when I always finish on top.” Nolan looms over you, his powerful arms now pinning your skull in an unbreakable headlock as he pounds into you from behind. The heat of his breath fanned over your nape with every ragged exhale. Each slow, deliberate thrust forces you deeper into the mattress, your spine arching against the solid wall of his chest, his muscled forearm nuzzled beneath your chin. The angle lets him go even deeper than before, stretching you deliciously with every brutal thrust. He snarled, his hips slapping against your ass with enough force to make the bed shake. His mouth moves along the shell of your ear, sharp teeth grazing just enough to make you shudder. “You’re too soft… too warm. I almost forget what we are when I have you like this.”

You can only moan in response, your eyes rolling back as he takes you with animalistic ferocity. The headlock prevents any real movement, leaving you completely at his mercy and him at yours as his body chases its orgasm. It's exactly what you wanted—to be dominated by this powerful man in a world filled with feeble gestures.

Between heavy breaths, he murmurs against your skin, “I should ruin you for anyone else. If I haven’t already.” Nolan mused, one hand coming down to rest against your hip as he guided your body in its efforts to glide against his cock. For once, his world could be rocked with someone who had the strength to handle his hips drilling into them. You huff at the possessive words, your pussy clenching around him like a vice. “Watch yourself,” you warned, though it had no venom. Nolan responds with a grunt, his thrusts becoming even more relentless. The headboard slams against the wall with each snap of his hips, the obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room. Your tits bounce with the force of his movements, your nipples hardening into sensitive peaks that tighten in the cold air with each thrust.

His touch lingers longer than necessary, his grip a little less punishing, his movements slower, more deliberate. “I shouldn’t be this gentle with you.” But he doesn’t stop. His thrusts slowly revealed that he was nearing his limits; wet squelches cascaded against the walls of the room. “What’s wrong? You were so confident before.” A smirk tugs at your lips as your head dips languidly, your voice dripping with amusement. “Don’t tell me you’re struggling already.” Your voice nearly cracked; the erratic beating of your heart vibrated against your ribcage. Despite your confidence, your toes dug into the sheets, sweat beading against your forehead as the hours of sex caught up to you. “You think you can handle me?” His voice was low, dangerous, but there was amusement in it too. He knew you could; after all, these nightly trysts became routine. It was always entertaining to watch you second-guess yourself, even for a second. The very building shook as if an earthquake rippled through the ground. “You’re trembling, and I haven’t even done anything special yet.” He whispered, tingles shooting down your spine. "I'm going to pump you full of my seed until it's leaking out of you. Just the way you like it. You’ll feel me for days." His hand moves from your hips to your clit, rubbing the swollen nub in tight circles. "Come for me. I won't stop you. Show me how good I make you feel." His delivery almost sounded threatening but certain.

The added stimulation sends you careening towards the edge, your body tensing as the pleasure builds to a crescendo. "Fuck! Fuck!" you cry out, your walls fluttering around his pistoning shaft. "I'm going to cum! Don't stop! Don't you dare fucking stop!"

Nolan doesn't let up, his fingers moving in time with his thrusts as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your cunt clamps weeps desperately against his length, milking his cock for all it's worth as you scream your release.

With a strangled groan, Nolan follows you over the edge, his cock pulsing as he floods your womb with his hot seed. Again. "Mm…! Yes," he growls, mumbling to himself and grinding into you as he empties himself deep inside you.

You can feel his cum painting your insides, marking you as his once more. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, even as your body continues to spasm with the aftershocks of your intense climax. His movements stutter as he comes down from his high, your muscled bodies clinging to one another.

Slowly, carefully, Nolan releases you from his grasp, his hands moving to rub soothing circles on your hips as he softens inside you. Both of you shifted until you were now positioned beneath him, cockwarming as a moment of gratification. The room was still thick with heat, the scent of sweat and skin mingling in the air as the last remnants of pleasure faded into something quieter. The only sounds left were the slowing cadence of breath, the faint creak of shifting limbs against sheets, and the heavy silence that often followed moments like these. Nolan hadn’t moved yet. Neither had you.

Your body was still pinned beneath him, one of his forearms braced beside your head, his fingers splayed against the mattress while his other hand rested on your thigh—holding you there. His body was pressed into yours, hips still flush, his breath still warm against your jaw as he hovered just close enough for his lips to brush over your skin with each exhale.

If anyone walked in, they wouldn’t know if he was keeping you there or if you were keeping him. Your fingers dragged along his jaw, slow, thoughtful. “You’re still here.” His gaze flickered downward, his expression unreadable. “Should I go?” A challenge. Your lips curled faintly as your nails scraped lightly under his chin. “Would you, if I said yes?” He didn’t answer. Only smirked as he studied you, his thumb pressing just a little firmer into your thigh before he finally—reluctantly—pulled away, rolling onto his back beside you.

But the weight of the moment lingered all the same.

For all the time you had spent together, for all the years you had tangled yourselves into this thing neither of you dared to name, something had changed. It wasn’t in his movements—still sharp, still deliberate. It wasn’t even in the way he looked at you—still confident, still certain in his control over the situation. No. It was in the aftermath. How his fingers would trail absently down your arm, as if mapping the shape of you into memory. He doesn’t say why. Maybe he doesn’t know.

You exhaled, stretching your limbs out with slow satisfaction before turning your head toward him. “So?” Nolan didn’t look at you right away. His eyes were on the ceiling, his expression carved from stone. But after a moment, he spoke. “I’ve been thinking.” A pause. You hummed, unconcerned. “That’s never good.” His jaw twitched, but the amusement reached his eyes. “You suggested something to me, once.”

It was not an accusation. Not an attack. Just a statement. You frowned slightly, shifting onto your elbow to look at him more directly. He wasn’t often this cryptic—at least not with you. “I suggest a lot of things, Nolan. You’ll have to be more specific.” His gaze finally met yours. “You said a true heir would make my return easier.”

Silence.

Not because the statement shocked you, but because you had said it. You had meant it. But that was years ago. The children’s aging is already slowing down due to maturation. The child you had given him—the first—had been proof of that. He had been strong from the moment he entered this world. Even as an infant, his constitution had been unparalleled. There was never a moment of weakness, never a single sign of frailty.

And unlike Mark, there had been no delay in his Viltrumite nature taking root. Mark had been unfortunate enough to receive his abilities late. For years, he had been indistinguishable from the humans around him—a weakness, one that made Nolan question everything. But your child? There had been no waiting. No doubt. From the start, he had proven himself. And Nolan had noticed.

You tilted your head slightly, watching him carefully. “And now you’re thinking about it again?” He didn’t answer immediately. He only exhaled slowly, his gaze shifting toward the side of the room where his uniform lay discarded across the chair. “I already have a son.” There was something sharp in the way he said it. You didn’t waver, only stared. “Yes,” you agreed, trailing a single finger down his chest, thoughtful, measured. “One who spent years believing himself to be human.”

A muscle in his jaw tensed.

And there it was. You propped yourself up fully, leaning over him now, studying the way his expression remained carefully neutral. “You didn’t come here just to fuck me, Nolan.” His eyes darkened. “You came here because you know the truth.” Your voice was smooth, even. Unwavering. “Because you see the difference. Because the child I bore you was already stronger at birth than Mark is now.”

There was no amusement left in his expression now. Only quiet, undeniable truth. And yet, he still hesitated. You could feel it—the way the silence stretched, the way his fingers twitched against the sheets as if he wanted to grip something, to hold onto the control that was rapidly slipping. So you leaned in, lips just barely brushing against his ear. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

His hand snapped up, fingers curling around the back of your neck—tight, controlled, but not harsh. Not yet. His breath was steady. Measured. But when he spoke, his voice was lower than before, rougher—thinner. “…You’re not.” You smiled. And just like that, the fire ignited again. And he wanted more. So it happened again. Another child, another perfect creation. Both born away from Viltrum, away from prying eyes, their very existence a careful, deliberate secret. You had never questioned why. The children of Viltrum were never raised in love, only to be warriors with a purpose. It was bound to happen.

Not until you realized that, after all these years, they were gone.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of the sheets beneath you, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths as the weight of his words settled deep into your bones. "You sent them away." Nolan sat beside you, his expression barely saddened, his arms resting loosely over his knees. "I did."

The confirmation came so easily. No hesitation. Nolan may be a conqueror, a manipulator, and a soldier of the Viltrumite Empire, but he is not careless with his legacy. If anything, he’s possessive over it. Two of the three children that carry his blood are one he made with you.

You were the only one he ever chose outside of his human disguise. The only one who understood what he was and why he had to do what he did. The only one whose offspring he knew would be worthy. So no—he didn’t scatter his lineage across the universe like some undisciplined fool. He didn’t send his children off without regard.

He kept you. He kept them . And he hid the truth, not because he doubted it—but because he feared what you would do with it. Because if you knew? If you knew there were more? If you knew that while he smiled at his human son and played the part of loving husband, there were other children—children who had never known weakness, children who had never been forced to pretend—

What would you do? Would you revel in the knowledge? Would you demand to see them, to shape them, to prepare them for the future he had always promised you? Or would you hate him for keeping them from you? Would you finally see him as the liar he was? That was the risk he had never been willing to take. Because for all his certainty, for all his arrogance— Nolan Grayson did not know how much of his deception you could forgive. And the wrath you would bear onto him was a risk he couldn’t afford.

Your voice was quieter this time. "Where?” A pause. "With the Empire." Your lungs tightened. "And you never told me."* He exhaled through his nose, eyes narrowing slightly. "It wouldn’t have changed anything."* Your stomach turned. "Are they alive?" His gaze flickered. "Of course." Another brief pause. "For now."

That was when the breath left you. That was when your fingers curled into fists, when your nails pressed sharp into your palms, when your throat tightened to the point of pain. They had already been sent on their first mission. Your children. The ones you had birthed, the ones you had carried, the ones who had barely seen past their own youth. And now, they were somewhere in the vastness of the universe, fighting, killing, conquering—

Or dying.

All because Nolan had decided it was time. All because he hadn’t wanted them to know you. All because this was how the Empire functioned. 

"You were a distraction," he said simply, as if that was supposed to mean something, as if it was supposed to make you understand. "If you had been involved, they would have never learned to obey." Your head snapped toward him, eyes sharp, voice hoarse. "You don’t know that." A flicker of disappointment settled in Nolan’s gaze. "Yes, I do." Because Nolan had seen it happen before.

With Mark.

With a boy who had been raised by a pet instead of a leader. With a son who had been raised with love instead of discipline. And he had refused to let it happen again. You hadn’t moved since he told you. Your children—yours—had been taken. Sent away. Molded into something beyond your reach. And you hadn’t known. Because he hadn’t let you. It wasn’t an emotional tie perse, but the inability to have control of their outcome.

Nolan stood a few paces away, arms crossed over his chest, as if waiting for you to lash out. To strike him. To do something. But you just stood there. Still. Seething. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you spoke. "You had no right." A muscle in his jaw twitched. "They were never ours to keep." Your fingernails curled into your palms. "That wasn’t your choice to make."

"It was always my choice," he corrected, stepping closer, voice unwavering. "Our choice. You just didn’t want to face it." Your breath hitched, fury swelling hot in your chest. "You sent them away—without me. You didn’t even—"

"If you had been there, they never would have obeyed me." The words cut through the air like a blade. Nolan’s gaze didn’t waver, didn’t soften. He had never been one for cruelty, but he had always known how to wield the truth like a weapon. "You think I don’t know what you would’ve done?" he continued, stepping forward again, closing the distance. "You would’ve fought to keep them. Would’ve defied orders. Held them back. And for what?"

His voice dipped lower. "To keep them yours?" He wasn’t wrong. But the thought of them—your children, your blood—out there among the ranks of the empire, learning to conquer, to kill, to serve—without you— It made something raw and unfamiliar claw at your chest.

Nolan exhaled through his nose, the tension in his shoulders only now becoming apparent. His fingers flexed at his sides before he finally reached for you. Not forceful. Not demanding. Just a hand against your jaw, tilting your face upward until you met his gaze.

"I did this because it had to be done." His voice was quieter now, but no less firm. "Because they needed to become what we are. Because this world—" his grip tightened, thumb brushing over your cheek— "is not meant for them."

You swallowed hard. "I should have known," you murmured, but the fight in your voice was faltering. His lips pressed into a thin line. "You did know." And you had. Deep down. Maybe not the details. Maybe not the when, or how, or where. But this had always been the cost of survival. The cost of being Viltrumite.

Your shoulders slumped, your anger still burning but flickering under the weight of inevitability. "They’re strong," Nolan added, his hand slipping to the back of your neck, grounding you in the heat of his presence. "They’re better than the rest. You know that as well as I do." You exhaled sharply through your nose, closing your eyes for a fraction of a second.

And then—when you opened them again— "I want to see them." His fingers stilled against your skin. "Nolan," you warned. A beat of silence. Then, at last— "When they return." It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was a promise. He had grown attached to you in ways he couldn’t deny. And for now, it would have to be enough.

A soft apology. Barely resembling one.

For once, there was no urgency. No calls pulling him away. No looming duty hanging over his head. Just warmth. Just silence. Just you. Your head rested against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing slow, measured. His body was still pressed against yours, his arms lax where they had once been firm, gripping, claiming.

There had been no rush this time. No bruising need to win against the other, no battle of wills between two beings who had never truly known submission. Only the slow, steady unraveling of something within.

Your fingers traced absent patterns against his stomach, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady hum of energy beneath the surface. It wasn’t often you got to do this—to touch him without expectation, without it leading somewhere else. Perhaps that’s why you didn’t pull away. Perhaps that’s why he let you.

"You’re relaxed," you murmured after a moment, lips ghosting against his skin. He made a noise in response—something low, thoughtful, not quite a laugh but something close. "You say that like it’s rare."

"It is rare." You tilted your head, glancing up at him, lips curving faintly. "You don’t relax, Nolan. You endure." His gaze flickered downward, and for a long, quiet moment, he didn’t answer. "Maybe I endure this, too."

Your fingers stilled. Not because you were shocked, not because the words meant more than they should have, but because they were—  Something real, something honest. And you weren’t sure if that made it better or worse.

You let out a slow breath, shifting slightly so that your bodies were more aligned, your faces closer. "Is that why you’re still here?" He smirked, as if to call your bluff, but the weight of his arm tightening around you betrayed the truth. Yes. And that meant something.

Your hand slid up his chest, fingers pressing just under his jaw, guiding him downward until your lips met his in a kiss—one that was slower, deeper, less about control and more about something felt.

There was no hunger to it, no battle for dominance. He responded with the same unhurried certainty, his lips pressing against yours, firm but not demanding, as if he was testing the weight of the moment itself. His fingers curled into your hip, just tight enough to ground you both in the reality of it. It started with the smell.

Not perfume. Not some cheap, artificial scent that could be washed away in an instant. No—what clung to Nolan was real. The deep musk of sweat. The subtle iron of bitten skin. The lingering heat of flesh against flesh, still dissipating into the air around him. Debbie’s stomach twisted before her mind even caught up.

She hadn’t wanted to believe it. Not when the late nights became more frequent. Not when his touch grew absentminded, distant—there, but never present. Not when his eyes, once so sure, so focused on her, had started wandering elsewhere, glazing over, as if staring at something she couldn’t see. But now? Now she saw it, just barely from it being well hidden.

She saw it in the way his hair was just a little too disheveled, no scuff marks from fighting the enemy per usual, but unkempt. Even in the way his lips were just a little too red—kissed, bitten, ruined. And she saw it in her. Standing just behind him. The woman. You. The stranger. The one whose presence filled the gaps Nolan had left behind.

The silence was suffocating.

Debbie’s fingers curled at her sides, nails digging into her palms. She tried to breathe, tried to move, tried to do something, but all she could do was stand there, staring. For a fraction of a second, Nolan didn’t move either. Then—too slow, too careful—he turned. The moment his gaze met hers, something flickered across his face. Not shock. Not guilt. Something closer to annoyance.

As if this moment—this ruinous, earth-shattering moment—was nothing more than an inconvenience. “Debbie,” he said, her name a slow exhale. She flinched. Because now she could smell it. The sweat and heat and undeniable proof of what he had done.

Of what he had been doing for who knows how long.

"You're cheating on me," she whispered, her voice so hollow, so empty that she barely recognized it. Nolan didn’t deny it. Didn’t move. Didn’t even breathe, the ability to betray her grew easier over the years. Though, it still pained him to hurt the mother of his child.

Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out everything else, drowning out the world, until all that was left was the unbearable weight of it. He had already decided this wasn’t worth lying about. Because in his mind— She didn’t matter enough to lie to.

The realization struck like a blade to the ribs, sharp and unrelenting, knocking the air from her lungs before she could even cry out. "Nolan?" Her voice cracked, splintering apart. "How long?" The answer didn’t come from him. It came from you. From the woman—not human, not weak, not like her—standing behind him with an expression unreadable, arms crossed, gaze sharp.

"Years."

Debbie’s breath hitched, a sound barely restrained between a gasp and a sob. Nolan exhaled through his nose. Not in shame. Not in regret. Just tired. Like this—like her—was something to be dealt with, something to be handled, rather than something he had destroyed. “Go home, Debbie.” It was so simple. So dismissive. Like she was some pet, being sent away after wandering too close to something she was never meant to see.

Her whole body trembled, her mind screaming at her to move, to run, to do something— But she didn’t. She only stared at the man she had loved. At the man who had built a life with her, had raised a child with her, had promised her a future. And she saw nothing. Nolan turned away first. As if she had already been forgotten. As if she was already gone. And that was when Debbie finally moved. Not toward him. Not toward the woman standing behind him, watching her with something unreadable in her gaze. But away. And being the strongest version of herself, she hid this from Mark, because if not… all hell would break loose if his suspicions were confirmed. Not that it mattered, because as fate would have it, Mark and his father would soon come to fight over their differences. Your plot would be a small fragment in the long scheme of things, your needs were met long ago, but you became far too indulgent.

Perhaps you should expedite your next planetary conquest, squashing a few bugs would do for a distraction.

Concluded. For now.

@drifting-galaxies @pwin098 @morgans-hat @mirapril @torimoridori

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Happy Friday RTA!

I have some thoughts on the whole “Why is William not travelling more” thing. Mind you, I do sometimes feels it is very tinhatty, but it is what I think.

See, I believe the root of all our issues is Charles. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am neither here nor there with him. Meaning I have no issue with him to the point of blaming him for everything under the sun or defending him even when he is in the wrong. Charles has spent so much time, like a looooot of time, being the PoW, living under his mother’s shadow, his mother The Queen, one of the most recognizable and relevant figures in the political and social world of the last 50 years (giving myself some creative liberties here). Charles was still a Prince when all the other heirs his age were becoming Kings and Queens. Then, the children of those peers of him were taking over, and he was now bowing to people he never had to bow to. Charles is a man of arrogance, and anyone can tell that. Probably a unique combination of aristocratic and Royal arrogance, could be that. He had his place on the spotlight for a very long time… until Diana. Then, everything was about her. His achievements were put second to her just showing up. He was just PoW, Elizabeth’s son, Diana’s husband. And then, William’s father. William the loved and adored one. Sure, C has his fans and follower and what not, but he isn´t William, just as he isn’t Elizabeth II.

Now, he is King. The King. He is the most important one everywhere. Unless William or Catherine are there. Because he goes to Commonwealth day, and Catherine gets the covers. Because he gets a royal wedding for his wife, and everyone is looking at the now Wales. He gets cancer, and people are worried about Catherine.

All the things he wanted to do, the tours, the state visits, being received as The King by those he had to bow to before, are on pause. Because his time is even shorter than he thought, because he is mortal and old and still living under someone else’s shadow: the new Prince and Princess of wales (another Princess of Wales stealing his spotlight).

Williams does and the press covers it. The same with Catherine. The kids show up and people go feral. His Queen does not get the same recognition as Catherine, not even close.

Do I believe W&C put the kids first and that is why we don’t see them as often? Sure. Do I think KP says something and BP/CH twist it and make it not happen/wrong/you chose? Yes. Williamscould do better? Yes. Will he? Sure, when he is King. Not now, not when Charles’ ego is hanging by a thread, his place in history being a fickle of what he wanted. He was a great PoW, hardworking, trendsetter, people oriented. That is his legacy, one his son is respecting but will never do just like C did, because W is not C. Charles the King? Charles III is temporary, short term. Elizabeth was diamond. William will be gold, maybe. George is a whole new future we can’t even begin to imagine. Charles is a passing monarch, warming up the seat for the next one. It took too long for him to get his crown, and he will not enjoy it too long.

He knows this, so he will act accordingly. King Charles III comes first no matter what.

This does not mean William is off the hook: he needs to sit down, strategize a lot more and do even more than what he does now. Talk less, do more.

Rant done, back to work.

P/S: when the BRF realizes they need to hire you to run them (yes, tell them what to do) please let me know. I’ll carry your purse around and get you coffee.

Have a great weekend!

Thanks for sharing!

You may be on to something. At the end of the day, everything must go through BP so if BP doesn't want KP to do something, well, then KP's hands are often tied. I do think the way William...not retaliates but maybe...defends himself? (I'm really at a loss for words here) is by refusing to do certain things that BP wants.

Like we know the Foreign Office wants William and Kate to travel more because they're the ones who bring the most favorable press coverage and they do their jobs uncontroversially, but William and Kate don't travel (or they aren't traveling), and I don't think it's because BP is blocking all the shots. I think it's because BP is blocking enough shots that when the opportunity does arise, KP isn't interested; too little too late.

But you are right, William (and Kate) do need to be thinking about strategy, if they aren't already, for the monarchy's future. They, more than Charles, are in a position where they'll be able to set the terms for what a 21st century monarchy looks like, very much the same way that George V and Queen Mary set the standard for a 20th century monarchy. (Right? They were the ones who turned the BRF to philanthropy and charity work?)

[hollowmem]

Soulmates

GN!Reader x John Price

I decided to take on a 2 week challange that may or may not extent to a month, we will see. I will be posting everyday, a new story with a prompt I will get for that day

Day 1: Soulmate AU with price

The transfer papers felt heavier in Y/n’s hands than they should have. Another team. Another shot at something new. Or maybe just another disappointment. They had lost count of how many units they’d been a part of, how many times they packed up their things, hoping—just hoping—that maybe this time, they’d find them.

Their soulmate.

It was supposed to be simple, wasn’t it? Everyone had a mark on their wrist, a unique birthmark shared with exactly one other person in the world. Some found theirs as kids, some during training, some on the battlefield. It was a quiet promise that somewhere, someone was meant to stand by your side. To have your back. To be yours.

Y/n had watched teammates uncover their marks, compare them with wide eyes and relieved laughter, or even just a resigned nod—acceptance, in whatever form it came. They had seen teammates transferred out, reassigned to be with their soulmates in more stable roles, as if the universe itself made accommodations for them. And Y/n had watched their own hands, fingers tracing over the fabric that always covered their wrist. Because they had tried. Again and again. And every time they pulled back their sleeve to reveal their mark, it was met with shaking heads, uncomfortable glances.

No match here.

They learned to keep it hidden. To stop hoping. To keep their head down and just do their damn job. Because if they weren’t going to find their soulmate, then at least they could be something. Someone useful. Someone worth keeping around.

But hope was a stubborn thing.

As they stepped into the new base, duffle slung over one shoulder, they forced themselves to keep their expression neutral. A new team meant new rules, new dynamics to navigate. This one, though… this one was different. Task Force 141 wasn’t just another unit—they were legends. And their captain? Even more so.

John Price had a reputation. Strict, tactical, one of the best leaders in the field. But more than that, he didn’t give a damn about soulmates.

That was why Y/n was here.

No one else had taken them in. The moment command saw them bouncing between teams, the questions started. The concerns. They weren’t unreliable—far from it—but no one wanted to deal with the wildcard that couldn’t find their place. Except Price. He had barely glanced at their file before stamping the approval.

“We need soldiers, not fairytales,” was all he’d said.

So here they were, standing in front of the man himself as he gave them a once-over, sharp blue eyes unreadable. “You’ve been with a lot of teams,” Price noted, flipping through their papers before looking back up. “Hoping to settle down here?”

Y/n swallowed, fingers tightening around the strap of their bag. “Yes, sir.”

Price hummed, as if considering them, before he nodded. “Good. Get settled. Briefing’s at 0600.”

And that was it. No questions, no hesitation. Like their past didn’t matter. Like they weren’t some broken puzzle piece that couldn’t fit anywhere else.

For the first time in a long time, they let themselves breathe. But they still didn’t roll up their sleeve.

The barracks were quiet when Y/n stepped inside, the dim glow of overhead lights casting long shadows across the room. A few bunks were already occupied—Ghost’s unmistakable silhouette leaned against the wall, reading something on his tablet, while Soap sat cross-legged on his bed, meticulously cleaning a pistol.

“New recruit,” Soap greeted, his Scottish accent warm but assessing. “Heard Price finally took in the stray.”

Y/n hesitated for only a second before setting their bag down. “Guess that makes me lucky.”

Soap grinned. “That depends. You know how to hold your own?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

Ghost snorted softly but didn’t look up. Soap just chuckled, approving. “Good answer.”

Y/n busied themselves unpacking, careful to keep their left sleeve tugged down. The weight of their hidden mark was familiar now, a quiet reminder pressed against their skin. No match here. No match anywhere. And yet, despite themselves, they wondered. Hoped.

Price had taken them in without a second thought, had given them a chance when no one else would. But that didn’t mean he’d accept what was under their sleeve. What if he saw it and regretted bringing them in? What if the mark meant nothing to him?

What if… he had the same one?

The next morning came quickly. 0600 sharp, Y/n stood in the briefing room alongside the rest of the team. Price stood at the head of the table, arms crossed as a mission map flickered to life on the screen behind him.

“Welcome to the real work,” Price started, voice steady and sure. “You were brought in because we need soldiers who don’t hesitate. Who don’t break under pressure.”

Y/n kept their posture rigid, hands clasped behind their back, but their mind kept drifting—to the heat of their wrist, the way their mark had felt warmer since stepping into this base. It was in their head, surely. Just nerves.

The briefing continued—high-value target, extraction details, tactical formations. They focused, absorbing every word. This was their chance. No distractions. No wishful thinking.

Except as the team started to disperse, Price walked past them, close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed. And in that split second, their mark burned.

Y/n inhaled sharply, fingers twitching toward their sleeve before they caught themselves. No. No, no, no. Not here. Not now.

They risked a glance at Price, but the captain was already moving, rolling out his shoulders as he addressed Ghost and Soap. If he had felt anything, he didn’t show it. His face was locked in that familiar, unreadable mask, as though nothing was amiss.

But Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling. Their wrist still burned, an insistent, unsettling heat that wouldn’t let up. They forced themselves to breathe, to focus, but the pull was undeniable. There was something wrong with this—something they couldn’t quite put their finger on.

It wasn’t until the room started to empty that Price turned his head slightly, catching their eye. For a brief moment, it was like the world stopped—his gaze was sharp, measuring. The kind of look a leader gives when he senses something’s off, even if he doesn’t know what.

Y/n stiffened, heart racing. Did he know? Was there something in their face that gave it away? Were they acting too nervous?

Price took a step toward them, but instead of speaking, he simply looked down at their wrist—his eyes lingering there for the briefest of seconds before shifting back up to meet their gaze.

“You alright?” His voice was low, steady, but there was an edge to it now. It was the kind of question soldiers ask each other when they can sense something’s wrong, but they’re not sure how to call it.

For a moment, Y/n froze, the weight of his gaze anchoring them in place. They could barely remember how to speak.

“I’m fine, sir,” they managed to say, voice coming out sharper than intended.

Price’s expression didn’t shift. “Just checking.” He nodded curtly, then turned and walked away.

Y/n watched him go, the burning in their wrist still there, hot and unmistakable.

Their heart thudded painfully in their chest. This was going to be a problem.

The mission was supposed to be straightforward. Secure the target, get in, get out. But of course, it never worked out that easily. They’d been on the ground for hours, in the thick of it, and the intensity of the situation had only made the heat in Y/n’s wrist worse. Every time Price got too close, the burning sensation surged, like it was pulling them in deeper, threatening to consume them if they didn’t do something about it.

It had been growing all day, relentless, but Y/n had no time to deal with it—not now. They’d seen Price moving with calculated precision, shouting orders, coordinating the team like a well-oiled machine. The mark on their wrist flared each time the captain came near, but they couldn’t stop focusing on the mission.

That is, until the ambush happened.

One moment, everything was under control. The next, gunfire rang out from every direction. Chaos exploded, and the team fell into position, trying to regroup. Y/n’s heart hammered in their chest as they moved to take cover behind a nearby crate. Their breath was shallow, pulse racing—not just from the firefight, but from the burning on their wrist.

There was no time to process what was happening. Just instinct. They scanned the battlefield, searching for their teammates, when their eyes locked with Price’s across the chaos.

In that instant, the mark flared.

It wasn’t just a flash of heat anymore. It was a wave of warmth that surged up their arm, up into their chest, making their heart beat faster. Their breath caught in their throat, and for a second, they forgot to breathe.

Price had felt it too. He froze, his sharp gaze snapping toward them. There was a moment of quiet between the chaos, something unspoken passing between them. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second—just long enough for Y/n to see it.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

His hand went to his wrist instinctively. The same burn, the same heat, the same undeniable sensation was coursing through him, too.

It was the mark.

Their mark.

A shift passed between them—an unspoken understanding. And for the first time since joining the team, Y/n didn’t feel like they were alone. They weren’t the only one who had been living with that burning, nagging sensation. Price had it too. He’d been feeling it all along, just like they had.

But the battlefield wasn’t the place for this. Not now. Price had to keep moving. He called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “Get to cover! Now!”

Without a second thought, Y/n sprang into action, adrenaline coursing through their veins. But the mark was still there, still hot, still alive. The connection between them was undeniable, and now it was impossible to ignore.

Later, when the firefight had died down and the adrenaline began to fade, Price found them, alone, just outside the temporary base they’d set up for the night. They were sitting by themselves, hands clenched tightly together, trying to steady their breathing.

Price didn’t say anything at first. He just stood there, watching them, taking a moment to let the weight of the situation settle in. The air between them was thick with tension, neither knowing exactly how to navigate this new truth.

Y/n lifted their head, finally meeting his gaze, but they couldn’t bring themselves to speak. What could they say? How could they explain that the mark—this connection—had been there all along, but neither of them had ever acknowledged it? That all this time, when they felt that burning sensation, it had been coming from him?

Price broke the silence first. His voice was rough, hoarse from the mission and something else—something heavier. “That was you.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

Y/n nodded, swallowing hard.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Price’s tone wasn’t angry, but there was a trace of something raw in his voice. Something like frustration. Or maybe confusion.

“I… I didn’t know how,” they confessed. “I thought… I thought it was just me. That it didn’t mean anything.”

“Same here,” Price admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But today, I—” He stopped himself, as if trying to find the right words. His eyes flicked to their wrist, then back to their face. “It’s the mark, isn’t it?”

Y/n nodded again, their chest tight. “Yeah. It’s been burning every time you’re close, but I never thought it would be you.”

“And now?” Price asked, his gaze never leaving them.

“Now I know it’s you,” they said, their voice barely above a whisper.

Price took a step closer, his presence a steady weight beside them. He didn’t touch them—not yet—but there was something in the way he stood, something that told Y/n he understood. That he wasn’t going to walk away from this. That the connection between them—this bond—wasn’t something they could ignore.

“I don’t know what this means,” Price said quietly, his voice low and intense. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

Neither were they.

Y/n looked down at their wrist, feeling the heat slowly beginning to subside, but the connection was still there. It was still undeniable. And somehow, the weight of everything that had happened, everything that was now shifting between them, felt both terrifying and comforting at the same time.

This wasn’t just a coincidence anymore. It wasn’t just a mark on their skin.

It was them. Together.

And they were ready to face whatever came next.

[popculturebuffet]

Batman: No Man's Land Retrospective Part 1: Cataclysm

Hello all you happy people. This project's been brewing for a while now and i'm so happy to finally get to dive into it. For the next two years, i'm taking a look at one of the biggest and most influental batman stories ever. This is a story that's been adapted four times, introduced a batgirl, a story massive in scope that gives batman a problem that no amount of money, no amount of punching and no amount of batarangs can solve.

No Man's Land follows Gotham after it's utterly destroyed by a massive earthquake and the goverment "shockingly" decides rather than repair the crime pit, to let it burn and let anyone who can't afford to move or dosen't want to leave to fend for themselves. It puts Batman in his darkest hour: he failed his city, and now he and his allies have to find some way to save it. It's a massive story that i'll be reading as we go, reading each volume before I cover it. I know some spoilers, the story's 27 years old and a lot of it impacts later bat stories and i've read it's direct sequel new gotham, but as for the fine details and how things evolve.. that i'll be figuring out just before you do.

Before we get to the government abadoning Gotham like it'd later do with Riverdale, we have to get to the why: the massive and excellent event cataclysm. Yes there's an event that leads into the event.

Cataclysm is intresting in that while super villians do show up, this is gotham after all, their not the main threat. The main threat.. is simply a massive earth quake that most of gotham was warned about, but only Bruce took seriously. And even then.. i'ts not enough: While Bruce's holdings and headquarters are saved, most of gotham is totaled and the bat himself is left in the one building he couldn't quakeproof: his home. Our heroes are left desperatley trying to help or play catchup as the world falls apart and even as they try to save everyone they can the truth hangs ominously over them: Gotham.. may not be able to come back from this. So join me won't you for an epic unlike any other, a story of dread, hope, and quakemasters, this is Batman Cataclysm

We begin with Detective Comics and a prelude issue. As is standard for an event this size we're going to be jumping around a LOT of books today, along with three one shots. Every book in the bat family is touched and a ton of major bat writers left their mark on this one.

Unfortunately the one who does the most.. is Chuck Dixon

So for those less familiar Chuck Dixon is one of the biggest batman writers ever: He wrote Robin and Nightwing and defined Tim Drake and Dick Grayson as a result. His run on Nightwing is why I became a massive fan of the character and why I tend to prefer bat family books to the bat himself.

He's also a huge asshole. Absolutely giant in the industry of being a dick. I'd like to thank @brotoman-exe for the background here as while I knew Chuck Dixon was a conservative prick, he gave me some helpful info to explain why he became the bitter lemon he is now.

So Chuck as you can tell was a big writer: he wrote most of batman after all. He then got blackballed from the big 2 in the early 2000's. From his perspective, it was for being conservative and he went full right wing asshole before it was cool. In reality.. it seemed he was just a dick. He had a weird tirade about a tounge in cheek Marvel MAX, their mature leaders line, series about the rawhide kid that recast him as a macho camp gay man, and made the bold assumption the writer of the book, a vetran artist, was tricked into it. He sunk his own career and blamed the woke media for it. He bounced around in other companies, as early IDW apparently was fine with his bullshit, but eventually he ran out of options and ... well he made this

Yes that is Chuck Dixon, batman and gi joe writer making an off brand gi joe comic about Q from Qanon. I swear to god this is not something I made up. This.. this happened. You can even buy it on amazon

Look is it fun to dunk on Chuck Dixon making a comic about the quannon conspiracy starring the titular q as an action hero. yes. I mean I could do it all day. But my larger point is that Chuck Dixon sucks dirty ass in thunderstorms, is an objectively bad man. Not sex offender bad, but while the bar for being shitty in comics is high, it's not so high that "being mad a character was made gay and making action hero comics about an active and dangerous conspiracy" dosen't rate.

So I have the unfortunate duty of being objective about his work here. I do not like this man, but he was an objectively good writer. It does not, as he seems to thinnk, excuse him from being a piece of shit. I simply can't avoid talking about him as of the 7 batman titles at the time, he wrote three of them: The afformentioned Nightwing and Robin, along with detective comics.

Since I need to wash the taste out of my mouth and this will be easier than mentoining every writer as they come up, let's meet the rest of our writers room who as far as I know haven't written qanon: the continuing adventures. I wonder if the villian is joe biden as cobra commander. Perhaps bill clinton. Clinton Commander.

Writing the flagship Batman comic is Doug Monech, one of many longtime batman writers on this project. He wrote some in the 80's and what i've read of his run, which has sadly been undercollected or only half collected in the case of one collection I have as he wrote both detective comics and batman up to crisis on infinite earths, is excellent. Well done stuff that helps build up batman's world and his relationship with jason todd. I prefer post crisis jason, but he still does a good job with batman's struggle to let the kid in. He's also the one responsible for blessing the world with Harvey Bullock.

For Shadow of the Bat we have consumate Weirdo Alan Grant, a british writer who afraid to ask "You want nuts. Well let's get nuts". His stories i've read are decent and kind of weird, and fittingly he created my faviorite Batman Villian, Scarface, aka the puppet what bullies his owner/other personality. Grants work here is impecable, as is everyones even ass face and made me want to check out more of his 90's shadow of the bat run. He's got a weird poetic style to him.

For our spinoffs we have batman legend Dennis O'Neil, who with Neil Adams redefined the character. he was also editor and wrote large chunks of other bat mega crossover knightfall. He's awesome and I miss him dearly.

Finally we have Devin Grayson who wrote Catwoman and does a decent job with it. She's the only one besides Chuck Q Dixon to have a bit of infamy though rather than be for being a raging asshole, she simply wrote something what bad. She followed him up on nightwing and while the better person, decided to have Nightwing join the mob for a while, and had him get assaulted by fellow vigilante the tarantula and said assault not treated lik ea big deal because a woman did it.

She's fine here but it's hard not to think about that run so bad I refuse to ever touch it when bringing her up.

So with our writers room assembled let's talk about the issue. It's a fun one off as I said: a criminal brags to his buddies about beating up batman. It's also here where a fairly stupid choice by dc edtorial comes up: At the time batman was to be considered an urban legend by gotham. It's a period I mostly remember for getting mocked in the pages of young justice as Peter David has never met a stupid decision he couldn't take the piss out of and Linkara doing the same in his march of the titans retropsecitve.

Since this does come up with several citzens proclaming batman dosen't exist, I... have to dive into all the ways this is nonsense. So here we go: batman has been on at least three superhero teams, none retconned out by crisis on infinite earths; he was on the justice league of america, left tha tgroup to found the outsiders after political red tape prevented him from going on a rescue mission, and after leaving them rejoined the league as it's leader for the justice league international era. He left soon after to keep his profile low.. but waas still seen on news interviews and coverage and was still publicly on the roster for some time. And by this point he's REJOINED the JLA and was part of them thwarting an alien invasion, an invasion of angels and other very public disasters. On top of that his former sidekick Nightwing was famously part of the Teen Titans as robin, leading two incarnations up to this point. The New Teen Titans in paticular were a very public group, famous in new york and most notably saving the world from Trigon and getting a giant ass parade for it. He also operates as Bludhaven's hero at the time of this book and unlike batman isn't nearly as stealthy.

On top of this the Joker has been a very public meance, killing dozens, fighting the justicfe league a few times, fighting batman in a bi plane at new years and most notably after killing Jason Todd, he became ambassador to iran

The point of this long detour is that it makes zero sense that batman is seen as a "legend" at this point who "dosen't exist". While he does stick to the shadows and is defintely the most standoffish of the justice league any time he's a member, there's enough public tracks to make him being some sort of mythical figure laughable. I try not to be this pedantic in a comics review, writers slip up, canonical mistakes happen. Even now when you can google things. But this isn't a simple mistake this is a weird status quo shift that made things awkward for other books for no real reason. Batman's already feared as a larger than life figure. Just because crooks know he exists dosen't make him less terrifying or them less prone to exagerate.

Thankfully the bulk of attitude , at least for now, from most of the writers was

Most of it is lip service with only two big moments, this one and the other where it's relevant to the plot. Most of gotham tends to know batman and co are out there.

Okay now we can FINALLY get to the issue which again is fun: the criminal embellishes the hell out of the story and we see both his inflated version where it's an ocean's elven style heist and where he goes to to toe with batman.. and the reality: his crew was whoever he could get, he got the info from being a janitor, the heist went sideways fast and both batman nad robin tore his ass up. This is confirmed to his friends when batman swoops over and scares the shit out of the guy. A fun simple story.

The real meat though is in the ending: We meet Jolene Relazzo a character introduced just for this storyline for two reasons: to set it up and to serve as a plot point for the ongoing arc. She's a seismologist, one who warned Bruce Wayne about an inevitble disaster years ago: Gotham is on a fault line and while it hasn't had a quake in living memory, i'ts due and should. Given who she was talking to, Bruce set to work: as the issues after this reveal Bruce quakeproofed every wayne holding except the manor, and fired his board of directors when they all said it was too expensive. Is this a lot to just. .have on exposition? yes. But it shockingly works: I didn't realize Jolene debuted here till I looked it up as she feels like a natural fit: Bruce isn't stupid. He's batman. He prepares for shit. So it makes sense he knows a decent amount of scientests. As Homer Simpson will tell you bruce is one, but while he's a master of a lot of things, he specializes in forensics. He's not a super genius, and thus him listening to experts makes sense. And given his preparedness it makes sense his first action would be "quakeproof my shit". And given the cost he does so for the reasons he does anything: it's the right thing to do. It saves him money sure, but as we'll find out some of these holdings are apartments or hotels. Innocent people could get hurt. employees could get hurt. Bruce could never allow that if he can help it. And as the quake arrives.. Jolene can't reach bruce whose in his cave.

To the writers credit, paticuarlly alan grant who writes the explination there's a simple reason for why Bruce coudln't quakeproof the manor: the batcave. he coudln't risk someone finding out about it. As for "Why didn't he ask steel or another super hero to do it", Clark and Wally could probably speed read the info and john henry is a former construction worker, so it's possible .. but it'd draw too much attention. I'll see how plausable it is as we go as to why the rest of the league stays out, i'm betting not so much but here.. I get it. It's way too many questions to easily answer and might upset unions in town. Batman simply COUDLN'T get the mansion quakerpoofed. Now the fact he had no plans for if the quake happens is a little stretch.. but Batman has to plan for a lot. He probably thought he'd get forwarned or the cave would hold.

It does not. The mansion collapses bringing alfred down to the cave, trapping bruce and leaving Bruce's home gone> it's a truly shattering scene and well done by alan grant, underlying just how sudden this is: like any disaster it just htis and in a second everythings gone. Batman does wiggles his way out and trie sto go for the car or one of the exits but everything collapses. He's truly trapped.

Meanwhile Harvey Bullock was tailing a local criminal bamed "Billy Wildman" but the quake happens. He's forced to team up with Anarky, who as the name gives away is an angsty teen who dressed like an adult. They work together as Bullock quickly realizes he needs the help to help civilians. And that's the big part here: most of the hero work done.. is search and rescule. Batman's not above that and has saved many a person but their usually hostages or kidnap victims. This is the kind of emergency work brave first responders do every day and that while batman will do in a pinch is outside his element.. but he and the other heroes of gotham do. Anarky is a street punk.. but gladly helps.

Finally we have Barbra Gordon, at this point oracle, batman's eyes and ears who after being shot by the joker traded in her batgirl suit for being a computer genius and tech whiz for any hero who needs it, mostly the bat family. Her own Clock Tower base was shaken but is otherwise fine. Naturally it was one of bruce's quake proofings and Barbra presumably bought it from him. She goes to see what's going on but sees the situation as it is.. and takes command. While she takes a second to let her terror at what could've happened to her love ones out, she instantly takes charge of the police she finds, convincing them not to go fleeing for their loved ones; She's sympathetic: her boyfriend, dad, stepmom and batdad are all out there, but they need to help those who need it. So she gets what resources they have and gets to work. It's one of my faviorite scenes in this event: When crisis hits, Barbra is the first to respond and the first to make a dent in the nightmare Gotham is facing.

Batman is having less luck on his end. He does manage to pull a spider man, escaping the wreckage.. albeit instead of just with pure will expert timing. He reunites with Alfred.. but there's no exit. Their truly trapped. The only way out is a bunch of underwater currents Batman never mapped. And I do like this: yes you could say "this is the same man who quakeproofed a city, why didn't he map these tunnels or have an exit" And the simple answer given and one I accept.. is that he never got around to it. Batman has backup plans for his backup plans.. but I like this batman who simply, as a human does, lets things slip. The Quakeproofing was easier: It was an imminent threat, and something he could deligate. Batman really NEVER deligates batman stuff and until recently didn't have any full time staff for the cave itself. If somethings low priority like say exits on the offchance the quake does hit and he's inside or mapping the cave systems he'll ignore it. Batman's a workaholic with control issues: the only things bruce deligates in costume are the stuff Alfred and Barbra are better at, cleaning the house, cleaning wounds, and doing computer stuff. It makes sense SOMETHING would give.

So with no other option he plans to surface and if it exposes him so be it: there's no second guessing, no other option: he's going to save his dad. And as he dives.. he gets hit with an aftershock.

So while batman might be batdead in this 7 part event that has his name, let's check in on the rest of gotham. The first tie in was earlier and in the pages of Nightwing. It's an excellent tie in as Dick hears about the quake during his night shift at the bar he works at, working at a cop bar to get info.

At this point Nightwing is the hero of Bludhaven, which is gotham but worse. Which yes is possible. Less super crime at first, but more street crime. It's everything gotham was pre batman and our hero fights with no real allies and only the right thing on his side. Still he books it the second he finds out what's happening and TRIES to find Barbra and Bruce... but being the hero he is dick gets sidetrack, finding people in distress and putting himself at great risk to save every last person, including a mom who gets her daughter out but nearly dies. It's a heartwrenching issue as you follow these people from the start, and see just how far Dick will go. It's one of the big pulls i've mentioned of cataclsym: Seeing our heroes against impossible odds they normally don't face this way.

As Dick heads off to go find his dad and girlfriend, well sorta girlfriend I forgot it's more of a situationship at this point and we'll get to the actual hookup in this very crossover, but that's for later.

For now we check in on another hero: Azrael. For those less aware, Azreal was the center of one of batman's biggest events and one I might cover someday: Knightfall. To make a very long story short after loosing his first bout with Batman, super genius and roidy mcgoo Bane studied his foe, then released every villian in arkham and blackgate, arkham for the criminally sane, and let batman wear himself out. Then Bane broke into his house, broke his shit and then broke his back, and rather than choose his actual son, Batman choose Jean Paul Valley, a 20 something who he'd resecued from a cult. This.. didn't go well as Jean still hasn't fully got the cult out of his system and went all grimdark and 90's and didn't hand the mantle back when Bruce was better. Bruce kicked his ass, but still let Jean Paul operate once he was deprogrammed.

So JP is currently taking Bane back to the arms of Saran Essen and.. some other guy. Sarah is comissioner Gordon's wife and Barbra's step mom. With him is Nomoz who I had to google as.. he's an actual troll. He was in the same cult Jean Paul was and why he put on costume again but eventuallys witched sides. I think he's neat. It's just.. neat to have an actual troll in the middle of this pretty grounded story. Well grounded for a former cult member fighting a luchador pumped up on steroids.

Bane escapes and a chase insues, but Bane wants Jean Paul to rule with him as "we're not so diffrent you and me' Jean defies him and that's that for now. He just.. kinda vanishes for the rest of this part of the crossover. All it does is explain where Sara was. It's a solid issue and I like this kind of detour: seeing how the rest of the batfamily handled the quake and it's a neat way to weave it into what was going on with Azreal at the time.

Back at the main plot, barbra gets some good news as when Bullock gets back, he decides to go look for her dad when he finds out no one's been sent as what people they have are busy putting out fires in both senses as gas manes have exploded. But her quiet relief when Bullock goes says a lot as does his saving Jim. Babs and Jim's reuinon is also touching.. he tells her to keep working, as it's important.. but is VERY proud of her.

The next issue covers batman's underwater adventure, as he tensely navigates currents. While he's doing that, we get one of my faviorite plots as we follow the Huntress, who had the misfortune.

Huntress is another vigilante in gotham.. and one of the few not given the okay by Batman. She was the daughter of a mob family that got wiped out in front of her eyes and grew up to become both a dedicated teacher and a hunter. The problem is Helena will ABSOLUTELY go for the kill at this point in her life and Batman has a thing about that. Maybe you've heard. And look I can get tired of Batman's "YOU CAN'T OPERATE IN MY CITY WITHOUT MY SAY SO"

Shtick. It's mostly for Stephanie Brown, who we'll get to. But this is a plot i get and like: Helena wants to do the one thing Bruce just CAN'T allow. He can't have a killer in his city claming to do what he does.

This event adds a wrinkle to it though: how justified is his no kill code when there's no prison to take the villians to? When things are hardest how can he possibly justify this? The answer is that he has to, that it's who he is... but does EVERYONE have to stick to it?

In this case Huntress has to help a bunch of people on the same subway car, complicated by some asshole with a gun taking hostages not knowing how bad it is. She manages to rescue his hostage and save the day.. but an aftershock leaves the guy pinned. And she.. leaves him. In the clutch.. she can't hold up to some code she dosen't belivie in. I belivie in it, I get why bruce does, it's a good code.. but where's the line? It's a fascinating thing to dive into... why should Helena keep this up when things are this bad and one more criminal is not going to black gate, but is going to make things so much worse.

The answer of course is just becaue things are hard don't make it right, but I love this situation pushing that. While i'm in the court of heroes not killing unless it's absolutely necessary, I like testing them. Helena falling into it first makes sense but i'm curious as this goes how far batman can be pushed by the horrors that await.

Speaking of the Bat he emerges in teh bay.. and screams in horror, letting out a big no as he sees the full situation: his city is dying, on fire, torn to pieces, the skyline gone.. and there's little he can do.

Now for another interlude and a fantastic one. Catwoman was just casually robbing a department store for the thrill of it. She could just buy goggles but admits in narration ther'es just something about gotham.. something wild that makes someone want to do crazy shit. She loves this stupid city.

The quake hits and no one has any idea what's going on.. but Selina helps. it's a great show of her character: Yes she's a thief and this is long before her protector of those who society forgot schtick I love so much.. but she's a good person. She'll steal shit.. but she'll also help, guiding a group of survivors through the wreckage. She does try to bolt.. but when she sees her city torn to shit... she doubles back and helps and then goes and helps who she can. Despite her protestations... she can't help but to help either.

We then get Robin's tie in.. which is only a few pages long. Yeah Robin was overseas, throwing hands with a dictatorship apparently and at the tail end of this arc returns home.. just as shit gets real. Robin at this poitn is Tim Drake, the third robin and one of the best. Tim was made a contrast to the previous two robins: He wasn't an orphan, he has a family that apparently live right next to Batman at this point, and he leans more into the detective side having figured out who Batman and Nightwing were and urging Nightwing to become robin again in the wake of Jason Todd's death at the hands of Ambassador Joker.

So onto the next chapter, a one shot Blackgate: Isle of Man. We follow a death row inmate Jared Manx whose execution gets delayed.. by act of god. Jared says he's innocent, that he didn't do what he did and despite every attempt was still going to get the chair. He protects his lawyer and a nun brought ot comfort him as things go pair shaped and a riot breaks out with many a criminal escaping, including KGBeast, exactly what that sounds like, who kills whoever's in his way. It's a well done issue especially since it marks Batman's come back. Hearing what's going on Batman SWIMS OUT TO BLACK GATE despite everything he's just been through, and quickly goes john mclane on their asses when he gets there. A few do escape and we'll catch up with them later, but batman's able to help the police helicopters land and clean house. Sadly.. jared does not make it. He sacrices himeslf to save his companions and claims "actually I did do it". And I like the ambiguity left: was he lying the whole time or, and this is what i go with, was he just lying to save innocent people. He died.. but he got to go out on his terms saving innocnet people and wether he's a murderer or not.. he won't be forgotten for that.

Back to the bat proper and the next issue is another banger as Batman grapples with just how hopless it feels... he can stop criminals but.. this is something else. Alan Grant does a damn good job as he waxes poetic about the devistation and how batman feels.. and how he presses on anyway. Saving who he can. He does realize he can only do so much, and thus goes for help: From the Penguin. At this point Penguin's settled into his modern role as a fixer who keeps his hands clean and more brokers crimes and has his men do them than actually get arrested again or try and use a penguin blimp to blow up the Gotham mint or some such. Batman gives him an ultimatum: don't fucking loot, instead help whoever he can since he has the resources to. Given the circumstances batman has nothing to bribe Pengy with... but he can still do threats okay. If Penguin loots Batman WILL come for his ass when thigns are done and will not stop making his life hell. And since he became a shady mobster to avoid that Penguin agrees. His men would be shot on sight anyway and the faster things get closer to normal the better.

We catch up with Tim who can't get back into the city: Roads are blocked and while most would be fine with just having to lodge in Bludhaven, showing you just how bad things have gotten when that's the GOOD option, Tim has no time for that and steals a motorcycle leaving an iou and tearing it up to get back to the city.

Jolene is having a less rad time, as while her building is safe she wants to get to bruce to help.. and instead gets kidnapped by some shady crooks. and "coincidentally" right after things get worse as a mysterious villian calling himself the Quakemaster, real missed oppertunity to call himself the aftershockmaster but whatever, sends a message to the police and a tape to the media: He caused this, and he'll destroy what's left unless he gets his ransom.

We take a break from this newly introduced baddie who will surely last longer than the length of this review for an anthology issue. Batman Chronciles is a batman series I was unaware existed before reading this trade, a quarterly book to help add extra stories. This issues stories really hone in on this event's strengths that while , as always batman is the center, we get a lot of what the rest of gotham is going through, boots on the ground as everyday civilians and other vigilantes deal with this nightmare.

Our first story is the contract, an okay tale that features a kid who belivies in batman. You know batman leader of batman and the outsiders , the justice league, the league of international heroes. That mytholgical figure. It does have a fun twist on the kid waiting for batman to save them: he dosen't.. but a bunch of criminals contracted to do.. contracted by Bruce Wayne. It's a brilliant twist in an otherwise okay story.

The rest are all shorter tails either spotlighting various victims or setting up things to come: Ras Ah Ghul gloats in his evil lair that batman's lost the city.. and he will finally have him as his heir forgetting the no murder thing. The Penguin saves people... but only those he finds useful and only for a favor down the line. A man tragically calls out and is trapped... and is not found, robin finding someone else instead. Two Face's henchman plan to turn him in for reward money. It goes as well as you'd expect. And a little boy waits , having lost his parents.. but finds Dr Leslie Thompkins, who once again comforts a young orphan.

Onto Nightwing. Dick finally makes his way to the clocktower, where Barbra has returned to help cordinate things. The two are relived and as usual are adorable together. Before things can get a bit more serious Tim shows up to kill the mood. Babs is at least still happy to see him as, to my shock, they hadn't met before this. Neat little moment.. that becomes less neat when all involved realize NONE of them have heard from bruce.

Bruce himself is busy in a new identity: Detective Hawke. I love the look as Jim is naturally suspcious of a random officer showing up, the last thing he needs is a supervillian attack fucking now... until it hits him. He's been through so much and i'ts only getting worse so it's likely a huge relief to find that batman is back and doing all he can.

As Batman saves lives the rest of his team look for him.. but find the giant cratered manor, utterly horrifed. While it's not mentioned on text, the art does a good job showing how devistated dick is.. he's trying to hold it in but it's clear seeing his home for some long gone .. it's a lot. He goes in to check on the cave and Alfred, while Tim goes to check on his dad, who hugs him tight, a sweet moment and one of the few bits of hope we've gotten so far.

Dick finds more as Alfred is fine along with Harold, who came in with some digging equipment giving the two an exit now they have help. Harold is batman's mute tech man, forced into working for the penguin till Batman rescued him and gave him a home in his creepy basement. I mean granted who dosen't want to live near a giant robot dinosaur that was used to hunt men for sport?

The next issue deals with quakemaster; The police have doubts about his claims.. but are going to give him the money in case as there's no way in hell they can survive another quake. Batman does his thing investigating, going to find Joelne Relazzo... and finding she was kidnapped. Since Bruce is a distrustful batstard, he does check to make sure she's not a villian.. but isn't and comes to the correct conclusion: the quakemaster kidnapped her for her knowhow to make himself seem more credible.

Batman relays with Gordon and the two try to trap quakemaster.. but like any good villian he sent henchman to collect the money. They have no idea who the guy is and our heroes have no real leads.

So Batman goes back to the cave and brushes off his son and sidekick who were worried he might you know be dead, or lost. Same with his father. I get tensions are high but even for Batman this is a dick move. It's about an 8.. not quite "slapping robin in the face" or "war games" , a comfortable quiet or papa spank.

Batman does put together that Quakemaster is lying

The facts he has are all wrong.. which Batman reads as a clue. Jolene is feeding him bullshit to make it clear no one's in any danger. He still worries for HER, as kidnapped scientest is not a long lived profession.

Time for another side story, and this one is one of my faviorites. Sadly another Chuck Dixon joint but hey. This follows Huntress again this time with Spoiler

Stephanie Brown is the daughter of Cluemaster, aka tenmu riddler . When she found out what her dad was, she became Spoiler, determind to "spoil" his crimes by tipping off Robin. She soon became attracted to him and at this point is currently operating but only when he lets her as Batman is not a fan because "I DIDN'T TRAIN HER AND I'M NOT GOING TO YET BECAUSE BLURRRRRRRRRR". As you can probably guess by now I hate this look for batman. For chuck it was probably "Well it's his city of course he am the god he am the god". For me i'ts being a dick to a teenager who just wants to impress her crush and has a genuine talent for this and making Robin's life harder because shut up. Ther'es a line between "batman dosen't understand people's emotoinal and will often make decisions on pragmantism and not what''s necessarily the emotionally healthyc hoice " and "batman is a giant asshole who wants everyone else to be like him." and this feels like it's crossing it. Maybe it's better in the individual issues I don't know it just feels.. off to have Stephanie HAVE to get the permission of robin or feel like she needs it and I prefer the later her who when given similar dickish paramiters by Barbra when Steph became batgirl, instead just... proved her worng when she could. And Babs gets more of a pass as while she was being a tad condescending this was also after Steph's previous career left her seemingly dead. I put that "death" more on Batman than her, but tha'ts a whole other mess. My point is he had no reason to not take her in then and there, see if she had it then cut her loose like huntress. With Helena i'm more understanding as .. they can't kill people. That's a line they can't cross. I'm understanding in this circumstance, but in regular day.. no. They can't just kill people because their bad people.

It is neat to team the two up though: Steph tries to honor the code while Helena.. does not, but Helena also shows her a bit more repsect.. she's gruff but unlike Robin or Batman dosen't seem to dismiss her. She also relates to having a parent who sucks, as Steph has to confront cluemaster. Cluemaster DOES want to get money to treat Steph's ill mother.. but can't understand why this upsets her. That in the middle of a disaster when at the very least after escape he could've just... fucked off and gone on with his life or helped people.. he STILL chooose to steal money. Steph dosen't let Helena kill.. but still dosen't make it out of the situation cleanly, having once again been fucked up by her dad. It's deeply engaging and while a lot of i'ts probably just being a fan of Stephanie Brown's later apperances as Batgirl, it's still deeply engaging and since Steph was in a mall when the thing happened another nice boots on the ground story.

We'll finish the story in a second but for coherence sake i'm going to save the penultimate chapter of the quakemaster saga to do alongside the finale for Cataclysm as inbetween them are two unrelated side stories that just.. break the flow. Ic an't blame the trade for including them, but instead of moving them after the steph story for better reading their kept when they came out.. wedged inbetween a massive cliffhanger in the Quakemaster plot.

So i'm covering them here. First is catwoman which is.. not a great issue this go round. It should be, it has Catwoman fighting Poison Ivy who plans to retake the city for plants and is written okay, and has a good moment of selena going back to rescue her latest victim she honey trapped.. but it has a LOT of Catwoman slut shaming Ivy. I mean Ivy shouldn't kill and brainwash anyone of any gender, but the framing of it is just.. bleh. I do like Catwoman having to team up with Bullock and Ivy's own spores getting on her face.. and WANTING them to keep growing even if she dies, but this is forgetable and if I read this again, which I likely will, i'll defintely be skipping it over.

The next one's a bigger disapointment: the concept is brilliant: at arkham the power goes out... just as Killer Croc's cage is open so he escapes and Joker convinces him to let him out. He also lets out scarecrow , riddler and two new characters Vox and Witch.. who only show up here despite being given intresting backstories. THey kidnap an unfortunate guard and decide to play a game: whoever tells the best story kills the man.

Unfortunately, the stories are.. eh. Only vox and riddler's stories stick out, vox for her tragiclaly imitating her mom smashing her father in the head with a beer bottle on her brother and the freaky art style and Scarecrow for the fucked up ending where some puppies eat their owners alive. The rest are forgetable. It's a lesser attempt at the BTAS episode "Almost Got Em. The ending, joker delcaring they all one and all of them carving up the poor bastard and leaving him alive but his mind broken, is horrifying.. but the issue is a wasted opprutnity not helped by where it's awkwardly wedged in

So onto our finale: Robin investigates quakemaster as do Renee Montoya and Bullock. The latter two eventually find his hideout while Robin. .figures out who he is. I knew due to the guidebook I mentioned, but it's still a neat way as they give you the clues.. you just don't realize it. Quakemaster tends to do two things: pause mid sentence to rethink his words.. and not use any words with b in them.

While Jolene hopes her clues are getting through, Gordon goes to meet mayor Marion Grange, who seems to be one of Gotham's few competent mayors.. but is tired and pissed having to deal with 80 problems. And she gets an 81st as armed goons burst in to demand the ransom money. She informs them the city.. is broke, another devistating blow but understandable: gotham had two pandemics back to back before this.

As they prepare to kill her the rest of our heroes find quakemaster.. and his hostage, Mackinzie Bock, recurring detective the wiki didn't have much on.

So we come to the end of Cataclysm. Robin.. decides to mock quakemaster, daring him to say his name. Suprisingly this dosen't end in Bock's death, but in Quakemaster loosing his temper and going after our heroes. This allows the detectives to free bock and go fre relazzo whose greatful and gives harvey a kiss on the cheek. Awww.. now she has scabies.

Meanwhile Bock and Robin really rock tonight as they find the Quakemaster... and Arnold Wesker's hand up his ass. Wesker is the vintriloquist, a tragic supervillian and my favorite batman villian alongside his usual partner, Scarface, a chalk white gangster puppet and his other personality. Quakemaster is another of Wesker's personas, forcing him to do this scheme just like scarface.. nad not much else. It's a clever twist and I love the fact that the only super villian to have a major role in this .. was Scarface. The rest were one offs.

The two try to flee but BOck has a clever solution.. he won't shoot wesker.. while the issue is a bit iffy on Robin blaming wesker when he clearly has DID and his alters are the criminals, he doesn't want wesker killed. And neither doe sbock who instead shoots Scarface in the head while poor wesker calls for a medic. It's tragic as it is brilliant. He can't hurt an innocent.. but scarface isn't an innocent.

So with that the day is saved. Nightwing goes to save gordon, Wesker is taken in. Yet.. it's far from a happy ending. As Dick notes.. the city MAY not recover and while batman assures them it will and they at least won... it's very clear gotham.. isn't okay. They saved the day, prevented another disaster.. but like all the victims they've saved.. it's only so much triage. Gotham is bleeding out and there's only so much surgery batman can do before it flatlines.

[taldigi]

Angst Time for the Mascot AU!

Nanako was very young when Yu was thrown into the TV. All she knows is that he adored her, but can’t remember the finer Details. Dojima has an incredibly strained relationship with his sister/Yu’s mom due to Yu being kidnapped under his watch. Unlike canon, Dojima isn’t neglectful of Nanako as he is more overprotective. He lost his wife, his nephew, and his sister won’t talk to him. The last thing he needs is to lose Nanako too.

Yosuke recently transferred to Inaba in his first year of middle school, and he was still branded as the “Prince of Junes”, with many of the local businesses hating not only the chain store ruining their economy, but the people running it as well. No one batted an eye when Yosuke disappeared. The Junes nearly shut down due to the manager’s grief over losing his son. Not like anyone cared to see if he was okay.

Chie and Yukiko disappeared around the same time. The entire town came together to search for them, all the way to the next town over. The staff at the Amagi Inn and Chie’s parents spearheaded the search, but they ultimately couldn’t find them. To this day, there is a memorial for the two girls at the entrance of the inn. Both families make sure all the flowers are still fresh and the pictures dusted.

No one bothered to look for Kanji. His only relative was an old woman who couldn’t search much on foot. All she could do was set up missing posters. Everyone guessed that he just was killed by a biker gang or died in a fight. In fact, many people were relieved at his disappearance. “Good riddance!” They would say, with Kanji’s mother being all too cognizant of it.

Rise was a different story. Nearly all of her fanbase rushed to the small town looking for their missing idol. They even harassed several of Inaba’s residents for information, including Rise’s grandmother. But ultimately, like any trend it fizzled out over time and Rise’s place as the top idol was taken. She’s just another reminder for a bad memory for the town.

Naoto wanted to investigate the numerous cold cases, only to disappear as well. Their grandfather was absolutely distraught, doing everything he can to find his grandchild, exhausting every last bit of energy, money, and free time to at least find their body. Nowadays, you can find old man Shirogane at Shiroku Pub, nursing a drink and staring at case files. He and Dojima have a camaraderie with each other.

ooo these are good! A few things from my thoughts:

P4/golden takes place when he's 16-17 and Nanako is 6-7... so if Yu went missing when he was 10, then Nanako would have been a newborn at oldest. I also picture the Narukamis having lived in Inaba and then moving away once their son went missing. I think this warps the behavior of Dojima and Chisato and i can see it being a factor in making it a "Chisato lives" au, too.

Saki and Yosuke went missing at the same time. I actually figure it like a babysitter situation- with a teen Saki tutoring Yosuke when they were attacked. She dies saving Yosuke in the TV world and is the only one who makes it back to the real world as a result. The Konishis and Hanamuras actually become quite close afterwards. I think it's as you said, that the town doesn't care as much about Yosuke going missing as much as they would- say, Saki or Yukiko. But a missing kid is a missing kid and even the more bitter of Inabas citizens have empathy for a mother who's outlived her son (as far as they're aware)

Kanji would have been 9, so it's set before his rebellious phase and before his father dies. It's not so much the "delinquent" that went missing, but the "Tatsumi's Kid". I assume loosing Mr. Tatsumi later on after her son on wasn't good for Kanji's mother, though.

Rise too, would be about 9-10. I think this is before an idol career was even an option- so she's still a very shy and reserved Rise.

Naoto I can see having an investigative air, but it really depends on when their parents died. I like the idea of old man shirogane and dojima as friends. Hell, I bet Dojima calls him "Senpai" LMAO.

pretty on point for chie and yukiko tho.

[threestargirls]

𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑡𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 / 𝑜𝑟 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙

or:

apollo talks shit about coriolanus to festus while they get high.

[disclaimer: i have never met a man i liked that i’m not related to and no i’m not kidding, so the dialogue on this could be entirely off and strange and not how guys talk to each other. going off how i think apollo’s personality would be and also just trying to make festus be… festus. also i just really hate snow so i wanted to write this<3]

Festus snorted in laughter, his hands messily rolling the weed into the blunt.

Apollo’s laugh trailed off into a sigh, and he wiped his runny nose and sniffled, leaning over where Festus was sitting to give him a look.

“You can’t do better than that? C’mon, man.” Apollo said, rolling his eyes and slapping Festus on the back before falling back onto the couch.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Festus said, furrowing his brows and trying to be more careful. “It’s not like we can’t get plenty more.”

Apollo shrugged in acknowledgment, throwing his head back and kicking his feet up on the coffee table, earning him a slap on the ankle from Festus.

“Y’think anybody else we know does this stuff?” Festus asked, wiping his forehead off and leaning back on the couch, shaking his cramping hands off.

“You’re acting like you just worked a 9-5.” Apollo grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief at his friend. “And, uhm? Yeah? No shit. Not like we’re the only people in the world who like to get high.”

Festus looked back at him with a scowl and leaned back over the table. Festus’s slouch did look uncomfortable, Apollo could admit that to himself, but that was Festus’s fault and no one else’s.

“I would pay actual money to see Snow high.” Apollo said after a long moment of comfortable silence, snickering along with his words.

Festus shook his head. “Nah, he doesn’t do that kinda stuff.”

Apollo let out a prolonged groan, and a confused glance came from Festus. Apollo impatiently snatched one of the finished blunts from the table, holding it to his mouth and flicking his lighter on and off until it caught fire.

“Of fucking course he doesn’t.” Apollo said with another eye roll. His eye rolls were a habit Diana constantly made fun of him for, calling him out for being too sassy.

Festus just shrugged, moving to lay back with a blunt in hand, but Apollo lightly shoved him back to the table, raising an eyebrow at him.

Festus grumbled something under his breath but continued regardless. “I thought you and Coryo were friends. Or at least friendly.”

Apollo wrinkled his nose up, blowing smoke out of his mouth and leaning back lazily on the couch. “No. I mean, I guess so. I dunno. I just think he’s an asshole.”

Festus let out a snort at that. “You’re best friends with me and you think Coriolanus is an asshole?”

Apollo let out a dry laugh at that, almost mocking Festus’s statement. “You’ve just got… questionable character. He thinks he’s so much better than everyone.”

Festus frowned at that, pausing in what he was doing. He finally reclined back onto the couch next to Apollo with a blunt clamped in his teeth as he patted down his pockets for a lighter.

Apollo handed Festus his. Apollo was already starting to feel out of it. “I just think he’s so pretentious. I don’t really fuck with that, you know? He’s got a stick up his ass all the time and it makes him kinda insufferable to be around.”

Festus opened his mouth to interject, but was interrupted before he could speak, as Apollo continued rambling.

“And, also, he thinks he’s so above everyone socially. He talks so formally all the time, and just being honest, it pisses me off. We’re not impressed by you using the word ‘extraordinary’ four times per conversation!” Apollo said exasperatedly, taking another hit.

Festus snickered and shrugged. “That’s Coryo. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Apollo frowned over at him. “Tell me why you’re friends with him. It doesn’t make any sense, really. You’re two totally different types of assholes.”

Festus deadpanned at that, but he had to repress a laugh. “Thanks. And, I don’t know, I’ve just known him forever. He’s… smart.”

Apollo chuckled, adjusting how he was sitting on the sofa. “It sounds like you’re struggling to think of his redeeming qualities.”

Festus slapped Apollo at that, snorting as he tossed his lighter to another pillow that he’d been absentmindedly waving around while lit.

“You’re an asshole too.” Festus reminded Apollo, blowing out a ring of smoke.

Apollo settled into the couch, his body tingly and his mind fuzzy. “I’m better than you.”

Festus grinned at that, patting Apollo on the shoulder and nodding slowly at that. “Better than Snow?”

Apollo grinned stupidly at Festus. “Definitely better than Snow.”

[triglycercule]

horror is so BLESSED he's the only one out of the murder time trio that has actual good people trying to influence his story 💔💔 dust and killer were both driven to INSANITY because of the choices of their respective humans but horror??? every time without FAIL the polls for horrortale's plotline have always ended in a good place for aliza (either by bettering her relationships/reputation or for her to just. not DIE)

horrortale's potential alternate timelines my beLOVEd🙏🙏 they're SO lucky that we're being kind and benevolent hehe (≧ω≦) now where are the aus based off the possible different outcomes that could've happened in horrortale HUH???? (like how aliza couldve killed toriel or chosen horror's puzzle or gone with undyne to the core........)

[clowningaroundmars]

y'know what i've been thinking about lately for no reason at all?

miles42

yeah, yeah i know but. if his 1610 counterpart is a conflict-avoidant-anxious type who keeps running both physically and metaphorically to and from his responsibilities, always acting like he's got everything under control... then, would miles42 be like that as well?

would earth-42 let him do that at all?

by that i mean... i always thought that miles42 would also be the same way, a boy who always tries to sweep things under the rug and pretend everything is totally normal... until i figured that smoothing over important things that need addressing is probably the last thing he would want to do, at least behind the scenes.

he'd put on the happy mask and conceal his pain on the surface, never arouse suspicions. miles42 would undoubtedly be influenced by his uncle aaron of course

but when a dystopian police state comes marching into the streets of your neighborhood, and the corrupt govt ruling over them plunges your family into poverty, there's only so much you can paint over until the cracks really start showing. problems tend to escalate quickly under totalitarian regimes

both miles42 and aaron42 would have to reckon with surviving in a world like that, where every bill that comes in the mail could be their last before the cops come hauling them away to debtors prisons. every infraction against the law established by evil billionaires and ceos could mean prison for life in general. every rebellious act is undoubtedly at the risk of being captured by cameras posted everywhere

miles1610 was able to run away from his problems, at least for a little while at a time. what would a miles who didn't have that option at all look like?

how would he feel, looking at himself from another-- freer, and arguably better-- dimension?

[queenlua]

man why is every single hawk we see in tellius a dude. it's like intsys didn't even realize lady!hawks are BIGGER and thus would CLEARLY be the warriors in any kind of arrangement where they're forming armies and such—

[daisyachain]

Descending Stories has the sort of female character paradox you find from a lot of women authors. Miyokichi and Konatsu both suffer under the structures of patriarchy, Miyokichi having to play the role of a woman to a T and Konatsu being barred from the role assigned to a man. There’s still no comfort for them in what they try to do.

Bon at least has some catharsis in his (?) gender troubles. He can’t play the role he wants to but he can still be a performer, he can’t have the man he wants or the woman he wants to be, but he has his work. Konatsu is denied her work and has the man (an echo of him) that Bon wanted foisted off on her. Miyokichi is stuck catering to men until the end, her attempts to find a sort of freedom with the unmanly Kiku lead her down the path to a much more power-locked partnership with Sukeroku. What’s the mark she makes? Konatsu can never take the stage once she’s grown and Miyokichi isn’t even allowed to have purpose in death.

[onehundredelevven]

Toji w/ preggy wife + out-of-this-world cravings

Toji stared at the counter. The ingredients you demanded sat before him like a challenge issued by the gods: instant ramen, whipped cream, peanut butter, and pickles. A lineup so vile it could send even the most daring chef into an existential crisis.

"Are you serious about this, or am I just getting pranked?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

You sat on the couch, legs crossed, a pillow pressed against your baby bump as you gave him the most innocent look in return. "Dead serious."

"You want ramen topped with this… stuff? And you're gonna eat it."

"Yup."

Toji groaned, running a hand through his dark hair. Of course, you had to pick this moment in your pregnancy to throw curveballs at him. The man was many things—an ex-hitman, a gambler, a loving yet blunt husband—but a gourmet chef? Not so much.

Still, he got to work. He boiled water, ripped open the ramen packet, and eyed the whipped cream like it might explode if he got too close. The sound of the kettle whistling filled the silence, but your voice broke through soon after.

“Don’t forget to add peanut butter! Like a lottt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, spooning a glob of it into the pot and stirring like his life depended on it. The smell was… not great. Toji’s nose wrinkled in pure, unfiltered disgust. “You sure this ain’t gonna poison the kid?”

“It’s what the kid wants, Toji. I’m just the messenger,” you quipped.

When it was finally done—complete with pickles carefully arranged on top—Toji approached you with the steaming bowl in hand. He hesitated, watching your excited expression as you reached for it.

“I can’t believe you’re actually gonna eat this. You’re insane,” he muttered, plopping down beside you on the couch.

“Hey, you married me,” you shot back, grabbing the bowl and digging in with absolutely no hesitation.

Toji watched, equal parts fascinated and horrified, as you slurped up the ramen, the whipped cream melting into the broth in a way that should’ve been illegal. He leaned back, arms crossed, still trying to wrap his head around the scene.

“This is actually amazing,” you said between bites, offering him the spoon. “Wanna try?”

He recoiled immediately, glaring at you like you’d suggested he jump off a cliff. “Not in a million years, woman.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t knock it ‘til you try it!”

“Yeah, well, I’ll take your word for it.”

Despite his grumbling, he stayed by your side, handing you napkins, fetching water when you needed it, and even cleaning up after you finished. Disgusted or not, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d let you handle it yourself.

Later that night, as you snuggled into him in bed, you mumbled, “Thanks for putting up with me. And the weird cravings.”

Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting protectively on your belly. “Tch. Don’t mention it. Just don’t ask me to eat that crap.”

But even as he complained, you knew he’d do it all over again if it made you and the baby happy.

[cheeseatlantic]

i want his meat (double meaning)

THE BUTCHER’S WIFE

!butchersimon x fem reader

Simon Riley’s butcher shop is a staple in town. Small, cozy, always smelling like freshly cut meats and slow-cooked broth. Everyone knows him, trusts him—the man behind the counter with rough, skilled hands and sharp eyes that miss nothing. He’s quiet, polite in his own gruff way, but he doesn’t waste words on unnecessary chatter.

Yet, despite the intimidating build and the sharp cleaver always within reach, every local knows one thing—Simon Riley is a devoted family man.

The proof? The way he locks up early to make it home for dinner. The way he handpicks the best cuts of meat to bring home to you—his wife, the love of his life, the one woman who has him utterly tamed in ways no one would believe if they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes.

Your home is just a little outside of town, nestled in the countryside, where the air is fresh and the kitchen always smells like something rich and hearty. Two little ones keep you busy—your children, his pride and joy. They’ve got his stubbornness, your wit, and an endless supply of energy.

But tonight? Tonight is different. The kids are asleep, the house is quiet, and Simon’s just gotten home—his broad frame filling the doorway as he steps inside, carrying a small paper-wrapped bundle.

“Brought you somethin’, love.” His voice is deep, warm, edged with something unreadable as he places the package on the counter. You unwrap it, revealing the finest cut of steak, perfectly marbled—something expensive, something he wouldn’t just sell to anyone.

You raise an eyebrow. “Special occasion?”

Simon hums, stepping behind you, hands settling low on your waist as he presses against your back. He smells like cedarwood, steel, and the faintest hint of smoked meat.

“Felt like treatin’ my girl,” he murmurs, lips grazing your neck.

Heat prickles down your spine.

Because that’s the thing about Simon—he’s soft for you, gentle with the kids, but when the night stretches long and the world outside fades away, he is anything but tame.

“Mm. So you’re buttering me up first?” you tease, arching into him.

His chuckle is low, dark. “That depends. Is it working?”

You don’t answer, just tilt your head to give him better access as his hands start to wander, rough palms pressing over the curve of your hips, gripping, claiming.

“You worked hard today,” you murmur, a slow smirk tugging at your lips.

Simon hums against your skin. “Oh, I did. Choppin’ all that meat, swinging that cleaver all day.” His voice drops, thick and heavy. “Reckon I still got some energy left, though.”

Your breath catches.

The thing is—Simon may have left behind the battlefield, but he never lost that raw, dangerous edge. It lingers in the way he handles a knife, the way he moves, the way he takes. And right now, it’s flashing in his gaze, hunger written in every line of his body as his hands tighten around you.

“You’re insatiable,” you whisper, half-laughing, half-breathless.

Simon grins, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “Only for you, love.”

And as he lifts you onto the counter, pushing between your thighs with the ease of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing, dinner is long forgotten.

(But don’t worry—he’ll still cook that steak later. After all, his girl needs to eat.)

slurping up that sausage like its my last meal ty

[forthegothicheroine]

Tanith Lee Recs

Since Tanith Lee deserves to be known for much more than having been plagiarized, I thought I'd share some recommendations. She had a HUGE body of work, and I've seen it suggested that the reason she never became a household name in fantasy and science fiction is that she wrote so many things that were different from each other, rather than staying in one easily labeled niche. I've only begun to make a dent in her catalogue, but here's the stuff I liked the best.

Note: A lot of her stuff can be disturbing, and I can't remember everything well enough to give perfect trigger warnings.

Red as Blood and Redder Than Blood: These fairy tale collections are being talked about now for the title story, but my favorite is The Golden Ladder, an incredibly creepy and hot version of Rapunzel, or perhaps When the Clock Strikes, a horrifying beautiful take on Cinderella.

The Weird Tales of Tanith Lee: As you can see, I love her short stories. These are all the ones published in Weird Tales, which includes some of the above fairy tales (including When the Clock Strikes) but also Arthurian, steampunk and science fiction stories. It's a great sampler of all the things she could do.

Blood 20: One more short story collection! This one is (most of) her vampire stories, so I know you goths will like it! There are things erotic, fantastical and grotesque in here, but to me the most haunting is the tragically mundane The Vampire Lover.

The Secret Books of Paradys: In this series, an alternate history of Paris, bad things happen. Supernatural things, sexual things, horrifying things. And sometimes good things happen, such as a man saved by a Jewish sage an his beautiful daughter who then actually converts to Judaism.

The Secret Books of Venus: I've only read the first entry in this similar series about an alternate world version of Venice, but once again it leaves the reader feeling totally transported to this sometimes sinister, sometimes lovely place where romance and cruelty live next door to each other.

Vivia: This tragic medieval plague-influenced vampire story is maybe the darkest thing of hers I've read, but dear god can she paint a picture with words. Along with The Birthgrave (which I didn't like as much), George RR Martin definitely pulled a lot of Danaerys's story from the title character here.

Islands in the Sky: And now for something completely different- a children's book. I remember finding this at the library as a kid and wanting to cry when it was over, because it gave me an equal sense of wonder and happiness as The Lion the Witch and the Wardobe, which I hadn't known was possible and worried would never happen again.

...but if you're like me, you'll just see which of her books you find at the library and used bookstores. You may not love every single thing, but it will always be interesting!

[halfgirl-halfdolll]

You always try so hard to hide when something's bothering you. You're so careful not to let your phone unlocked and out in the open, you try not to let your eyes unfocus as you think about whatever's bothering you; you work so hard to keep being productive despite your sorrows.

But they know you better than yourself, doll.

They see how your shoulders tense up whenever you leave Price's office and how you're always so wary of your surroundings, looking this and that way, waiting behind walls to avoid certain people. You can't hide your fears from them. Not from them. Not from the ones who were placed in this godforsaken world to protect you no matter what.

Figuring things out is easy. There's a reason they're a special task force. Swooping your phone from you is as easy as stealing candy from a little kid, and so is unlocking your phone (you need to be more careful about your passwords, love. Really? Your childhood's dog birthday? That's like basic information for them).

And when you come back to the room, flustered, fretting over your phone, it's there: on Price's desk, as if it was untouched. They hide the anger caused by their discoveries behind clenched jaws and hardened eyes and wait until you leave to begin discussing their plan of action (it's cute how you still look at each one of them to make sure they didn't see a thing).

Love, why didn't you tell them? Why did they have to search through your messages to find the reason behind your sadness? Don't you trust them? They're your guard dogs, doll, why don't you just order them to maul and gnaw and rip to shreds whenever you need?

It took them breaking into your phone to find out about the Sergeant who's been messaging you. They could read the suspicion behind your words as you accused him of pranking you after he asked you out.

Pranking you? Pranking?

They read the following messages, where he admitted to his lies – it was a bet, he said. Some friends had bet a good amount of money that he wouldn't be courageous enough to ask you out and then stand you up. He then had the gall to thank you for believing his words and going to the date. For dressing up "weirdly" and being delusional enough to think someone like him would be interested in you.

"just an advice: putting lipstick on a pig doesn't work lmao thanks for guaranteeing me the money tho" he had said.

Seeing red wasn't enough to describe how they felt.

Soap could barely stay still. He leaned his weight on one foot and then the other, itching to run as fast as he could until he found the bastards that dared to insult his bonnie. He needed to feel their bones giving out as he punched them into a bloody pulp. He needed to scream, to let you know that you were too good for all of those scumbags, that he and his mates were the only ones who could appreciate you, touch you with the reverence and devotion that you deserved.

Gaz felt like he failed you. The sourness of his anger mingled with the bitterness of his sorrow. He swore he could taste his emotions on his tongue. He always makes sure to tell how beautiful he thinks you are, how lovely your uniqueness is to him – his little porcelain doll he wished he could place on a shelf. To think some random man managed to hurt you and disrespect you under his watch... it was unbelievable. He would spend a lifetime spoiling you until you forgot about it. After he sunk his teeth into those men throats and ripped them apart, of course.

Ghost was the other side of Soap's coin. But while the Scotsman wanted to seek and destroy as quickly as they do in action, Ghost wanted cruelty. He wanted to take it slow, deliberate. One fingernail for every tear they made you shed. One bone snapped in half for every second you suffered due to their disrespect. If it depended on him, they would only live up until the clouds that covered your sun cleared up. There would be no surrendering, no mercy. You deserve thorough revenge, lovie. And only the muzzle that Price puts on his rabid snout can hold Ghost back.

Price wondered why you didn't tell them about this... incident. Why? Are you trying to defend those poor excuses for men despite how terribly they disrespected you? No, that can't be it. You're their angel, but he knows you aren't some punching bag. Are you afraid they'd agree with those bastards? At that, Price has to laugh. You're so smart, love, but so so blind. You still can't see how they could sell their soul to you, if you became a devil. You still can't see how they'd kneel down on nails and pray to you if you became a saint. After Price pulls a few strings and manages to get that scum dishonorably discharged, he and his muppets would have to work really hard on making sure you know you're the only thing that matters.