#this probably doesn't make a lot of sense cause after all I don't have a lot of clue or context other than amusing thoughts

[octo-blobs]

hi i cant remember what notes are but here we go.

for many a reason i very deeply resonate with the found family aspect of 8path and have spent a lot of time daydreaming about it - so a Hefty Chunk of what i've taken from it includes projection and indulgent headcanoning. i loved english literature at school so i like to think my analysis skills have aided me in keeping the characters i ship in a recognisably canon-compliant state, but because i'm just stubbornly gay i stop caring whether it makes sense to then add copious amounts of romance on top. ~anyway~.

alfion. i originally didn't like alfyn! my first experience of him was the english dub and i found his sonic-like mannerisms annoying. after experiencing the game in full, however, and becoming very attached to therion, i figured that he was a great asset to those who needed a soft-hearted-strongman. i love what the narrative offers regarding how it shapes these characters and would make a seriously long post about analysing every character i talk about here If People Cared -- for now, though, i'll try to keep it short. (NARRATOR VOICE: he did not keep it short.)

i just love the foils between alfyn and therion. therion, whose heart stutters and bleeds the truth of his loneliness; a man who lives in the shadows only to yearn for the love that light holds. alfyn, who from his trauma took the lesson of embracing life with open arms; a man who would rather unintentionally shepherd in evil than to deny a second chance. they embody such a deep sense of hurt/comfort whilst also curating a casual, warm and boyish sense of true friendship together.

therion benefits so deeply from all 7 of his playable companions, and in alfyn's case, i think it's deeply tied to his free-falling honesty. not only does alfyn portray his values strongly - he also does utterly risk-intensive and sometimes borderline stupid things because he believes in his chosen role as a force for change. his story arc seems to show him doubling down on these decisions, and there are several points at which therion's existence as a societal menace and ~bad person~ can be seen as relevant to them. whether or not you should help a no-good thief; whether or not a person is evil because of their past and circumstances that changed the trajectory of their life; where you should draw the line and what you should punish; whether you should give up on a person who nobody else can seem to help. to me, alfyn seems to decide that he'll be somewhat of an objective and benevolent (as much as a human with a strong protective complex can be) shepherd to the weak and forsaken, taking consequences of his actions as a workplace risk instead of a curse to his worth. therion, however ... this man is mired in shame and has no sense of self-worth that doesn't come down to spiteful pride in the abilities that darius praised & his self-preserving spite. he gave his heart to someone and he thinks, for the most part, that he need not ever get past the pain it caused him, lest it make him weak all over again. because being weak hurt - being powerless hurt. and being chucked off a cliff by someone you would've burned the world with... *really* hurt.

from therion's standpoint he is seen by others as undeserving and, for the longest time, i don't think it matters to him whether or not that assessment is true. his way of compartmentalising the way society treats him is to do what he needs for survival regardless, because there are a hundred more evil things than he himself is capable of - as, iirc, an orphan, and a pauper - but i don't think this leads to an appreciation for his worth. it's so tarnished by darius, the fallout of which probably confirmed pre-conceived notions such as 'don't trust anyone', 'always account for yourself and forsake others before they forsake you', 'the whole world is more likely to turn you in than to hold your hand'. honestly, i see in therion such overflowing yearning that he doesn't *fully* live by these notions - he can't cut himself off from the love he longs for because he's not the kind of no-good scoundrel he thinks he belongs with. whereas darius and plenty of other criminals ingame sow cruelty and are cutthroat with their relationships, therion seems to be capable of empathising with a broader spectrum of people (as seen, to me, by his ability to sympathise with cordelia & thus the untouchable bourgeoise he so loathes). alfyn's open-minded worldview allows therion to be present in the life of a thoroughly kind person without either feeling threatened or like he's in disguise. from there, he's able to observe the light he's yearned for and, in time, this could blossom into a love that finally grants him security.

god i could talk about them forever, but i also have a headcanon that i've held close to me for a few years now. based on the map and where therion's attempted murder takes place, i've ruminated on the idea that therion could have ended up getting medical treatment in clearbrook. after tumbling down the jagged, steep lines of bolderfall's mountainside, he could have broken his fall as the terrain blushed green with grass and trees and underbrush. dry from the desert sun and on the brink of death, a near sightless therion dragged himself towards the sounds of rushing water. the current dragged his limbs - some broken, others just weak and covered in wounds - further down the river. as therion and alfyn were both younger, i wonder if zeph would have lead the treatment that therion received once he was pulled from the bubbling waters and rushed onto the medieval equivalent of an operating table. the immediate question is, "wouldn't they recognise each other once they met in the future?" - and i don't think therion would want himself to be known, treated or kept in such a generous home. most apothecaries are paid in-universe - a service therion was beyond sure he couldn't pay for. to me, therion is apprehensive about returning to clearbrook on his travels but *needs*, for whatever narrative reason, to pass through and receive apothecary aid. alfyn recognises the white hair and skittish tendencies, recalling little other than a patient who picked from zeph's coinpurse and ran. for the longest time, he never brings up that he belives - knows - that person was therion. he wrestles with it, deciding that he indeed wants to see just what kind of person therion is, which eventually leads him to discover that he was right to trust & nurture him.

the therion i depict always has a snarled lip from a lasting scar, cleft from the incident, and i headcanon him suffering from lasting conditions, both physically and mentally, that actually alfyn would be able to treat or provide relief from - continuing the proof that he can and will be taken care of here; that there's no reason to be afraid; that he can scratch and protest all he likes, but he's in the hands of a man whose whole purpose (and joyfully so) is to make sure he has a space to heal.

god lmao i love them so much. i also see them both as trans but i also see a good portion of the casts of both 8path 1&2 as trans so it barely feels relevant. i just think its neat.

h'aanirose. primh'aan. it's a very similar story, though their personalities, goals and lives are led in very different manners to alfyn and therion. i certainly think there's a lot to add about lesbianism here, such as comparing primrose's relationships with women to those she has with men, as well as h'aanit's portrayal as a warrior woman and a blushing knight in the face of her alluring lady, but i probably wom't go into all of it.

primrose and yusufa was an extremely formative relationship. it, unfortunately, mirrored the one with her father and left her losing another deeply important person to murder. the kind of rage that rumbles in primrose's heart and thunders out into bursts of arcane shadow is not to be underestimated, in part because it left her so vulnerable to the puppeteering of simeon. in her eyes, she lost everyone she loved - and then, suddenly, in a way that made her once again feel like a child, she un-lost one of those people. forming a deep and lasting connection must be tough for her after the events of the game and thus i think the a certain travel banter line from the end of her story is representative of even more yearning than it seems on the surface. to h'aanit she suggests they could travel together in future, even commenting that she could protect h'aanit herself. to which, of course, the incredibly muscular pseudo-viking with axe-wielding biceps and a giant snow leopard says, 'dost thou not mean *i* coulde protecten *thee*?' i find this so incredibly cute. of course there's a huge aspect of prim's banter where she alludes to her physique & intimately informed commentary on men, which leads her to praise h'aanit for choosing neither of the 'two kinds of men' in chapter 2. however, the power of yuri in my heart takes this subtext and runs with it - when i talk about the deeper yearning of this interaction, what i'm referring to is the fact that the game gives us an insight into her thoughts and has her, like a stumbling shy lovebird, question why she didn't just outright admit she likes h'aanit's company. it's one of my favourite little things in the entire game because primrose has lived so much of her life as someone that she didn't want to be, but *had* to be in order to approach the truth and get closure for her grief. i think she knows that there's an aimless and unknowable path before her, and her old skills kick in. before she can simply ask for h'aanit to join her on this daunting endeavour, she finds herself trying to sweeten her words & make herself seem appealing as a companion. (seeing as prim can allure any gender, it highlights that alluring isn't just used in a sexual manner - though frequently that's how she's received by men & has more success playing into that across the board). i think this scene is emblematic of the effect h'aanit has on her, and i love gobbling it up.

primrose feels comfortable in letting h'aanit know that she feels safe with her very automatically, even when she's shy about asking for her company. h'aanit, to me, would make a lovely candidate for a person that primrose can deeply love & is less likely to lose to a cruel deception or death; i think the way in which h'aanit fends for herself is appealing in this manner. in turn, the sweet way in which they can exchange life lessons creates a foundation of support, which is both fantastic in a world where the men* in their lives are falling short of the roles they might otherwise occupy and a foundation for love that appreciates their strengths without regretting their weaknesses. (*z'aanta as a drunken & lighthearted mentor often scolded by his apprentice; primrose's lack of a present father figure or protector; the way h'aanit's story champions the presence of strong and/or skilled women; primrose chapter 1 villain who icr the name of cause he sucked; simeon as an older man in young primrose's life who preyed on her innocence and love for him). etc etc.

h'aanit is a learner. she may not start out with experience, and further on she finds herself flustered at several points when it comes to the mannerisms of cityfolk, but she's capable of understanding the wider picture. i think this is aided by the way in which she sees herself in the cycle of life, protecting the forest by stepping into it only where it can undo the superfluous presence of man. she doesn't get too involved in the habits of others unless they threaten the forest - an example is with therion and the way she just flat-out judges his nimble fingers, only to do nothing about it other than sass him out in ye olde. she is patient to see how things pan out, and can respect others enough to see where their actions will take them before stepping in. then, when she steps in, she is both graceful and noble, making her an incredibly romantic figure imo. i have, many a time, also thought about the way h'aanit is predominantly a melee (aside from summoning) fighter, with an emphasis on strategic timing for her skills, and prim is almost entirely a support. throughout the trauma and troubles that primrose faced prior to meeting any of the cast, she was unable to access enough power or knowledge to push forward and instead played a waiting game. i think it delights her to know that she can stand beside her battering ram of a girlfriend and fuel her, achieving her goals not through manipulation or abuse but through their shared vision.

my hands feel a bit numb from typing all of this out on my phone, which i didn't need to do but did anyways because it's very easy to fixate on these characters. i feel like i have a thousand things to say, all of them obsessive and excited because of an adoration for the character writing in these games. i love squeezing it for all of the gay stuff and i will never stop.

honourable ship mentions that i will go into detail about if anyone asks, *particularly* those for 8path2 - olberus, olberus but with erhardt too for yaoi reasons, throné x temenos t4t, throné x agnea (postgame +several years), knightlight, a polyamorous amalgamation of the above 8path2 characters (with the exception of temenos not being into women in my hc)... god. help. theres always more but im tired and now i want to replay the games. thank you op for my life

if you read this you get a gold star

I miss octopath yapping with people so uh yknow what! We’re gonna play a game!!

Explain in the notes what y’all’s favorite ships are and why you like them!!!

Only rules are

1) do not explain why everyone should think your ship is canon, as that is not the point of this post 2) do not put any other ships down bc that is also not the point of this post 3) ALL games are included (yes including cotc) 4) ANY SHIPS ARE ALLOWED!!! GO NUTS!!!!

[anewp0tat0]

he's simply one hell of a nanny yes yes

[kdranime]

.

[chocolate-cream-soldier]

...//...

[yeyinde]

The 141 finding out you've never had sex.

Just casually drinking, playing cards. A joke causes it to slip out.

body electric: the virgin edition

Gaz, the instigator, mutters something about not having been fucked in ages. this springs up a sudden surge of comradery, because, yeah. neither have they.

Soap's devote Catholicism (i like to imagine) leaves little room for flippant intimacy. he tries to be a good boy. key word, of course, being: tries. but the last serious relationship was years ago. back when he was grunt. he's pent up. abstinence, yeah? he holds it tight in his hand. but the thing about fists is that they're often mistaken for anger. Soap's a realist masquerading as an optimist. he knows whoever falls into his jowls next will be a MacTavish by the time he's through with them. and commitment. well. his comes at a price. a hefty one.

Ghost prefers casual flings where he doesn't have to take any clothes off. unzips his trousers, frees his cock, and then tries to pretend he's a real, flesh and blood, human. to feel something, anything, except a vacuum between hollow bones. but his tastes are peculiar. on the side of unhinged. he hasn't found the perfect body yet satiate himself with.

Price. well. with his bloody hands, he thinks he'd rather not dirty the same people he swears to protect. and divorcing at the age of 30 does that to a man, maybe. his role as a captain (an excuse in retrospect) also keeps him from unleashing his wants. the very same ones that are probably best under lock and key, anyway. it's just for the best, really. something he ought to do because the moment he has another chance to sink his teeth into someone's neck, he'll tear them apart. break them into pieces.

despite bringing it up, Gaz knows the real reason he's single is because he's pushy. he wants. so he takes. and then takes some more. more. more. until his gullet is full of the person he's obsessed with. carrying them around in his breast pocket everywhere he goes. the perfect mate. the one he can shower with unfettered affection. a deluge, in all honesty. one with the ideation to drown. biblical floods. trapped beneath him. he likes it more than he should, but. singedom, then, he supposes.

and then you roll the dice. admit, sheepishly, that, technically, you have them all beat. zero is always lesser than five, ten, twenty. but it's this misstep—zero, never—that catches their attention.

suddenly, you're not surrounded by kin but a pack of wolves. all hungry in their own ways, all starving. it just makes sense to quench their hunger with you, doesn't it? friend, ally. pretty little thing. so sweet for them. and perfectly mouldable. putty they shape to their hearts desire. the perfect mate.

Soap grips his rosary. the sign of the cross, heavenly Father and Holy Spirit, digging into his palm like the burn of a baptism. what's devotion if not pain? he cuts himself on the gold. offers blood of the sacrament to whoever might be listening, and leans in, sniffing.

Price's knuckles are white. he leans back, hidden in shadows. all you can see is spark of burning orange from his cigar as he takes mouthful after mouthful of smoke, contemplating. assessing.

"that so?" he doesn't even need to look at his Lieutenant to know that the man has gone still. too bad for you, it's not from shock.

Ghost barely holds himself back. keeps tight in his seat. fists clenching. unclenching. he has a good enough read on the people around him to see the unfiltered desire ripping across their face. scorching. but to bite, with his mouthful of jagged, seraded teeth; ones meant to rip, break, tear, would ruin you. permanently. unequivocally. and—

"wanna give it a go?" all eyes turn to Gaz, electric in his seat. eyes smouldering umbre. "i mean, you trust us the most, don't you?" us. it's stunning, he thinks, the way Gaz can weave tapestry in the air like this with just his words. one tangled like shibari binds. "and we care for you a lot. we'll be gentle. it's up to you, of course, but—"

Soap's bloody hand disappears under the table. you gasp. "yer askin' fer it, ain't ye? beggin' so pretty fer it."

"n-no, i—"

"mind your manners." Price. his voice is chiselled into char, authoritative; low. a lulling command spoken in a breath of smoke. "and don't lie, love. or i'll have to take you over my knee."

the tension is thick. Soap's arm moves, slow. deliberate. Ghost has clench his jaw to avoid bearing his teeth. snarling.

Gaz cuts it with a knife. hews compliance into your skin with a fine needle point. "it's okay. we'll take such good care'a you. make you feel so good."

your submission is a heavy thing. oppressive. the shallow dip of your chin, the blistering heat simmering under your flesh, burning right, is the prettiest fuckin' thing he's ever seen. he does clench his jaw this time. tight, tight. tight

until something pops.

"okay." you yield. head bowed. beautifully submissive.

when he looks around, catches the predatory crackle in the air. his hackles raise. immediate. instinctual. and ah, right.

it's easy to forget he's surrounded by a wild pack of stray dogs. starving ones, too.

[chaoticwriting]

THE FATHER 2

Part 1

After the last incident, Danny totally expects the public to be afraid of him or even persecute him for killing the Joker. He did kill in front of a live stream after all. What he doesn't expect is the public giving their full support to him. Almost every single news media paints him in a good light, saying he is just protecting his children and bringing up all his previous charity.

However, there is one big problem Danny doesn't foresee. Danny doesn't even know about the problem because his children are the one that are suffering from it.

-Gotham Academy-

Emma: *Slamming her phone on the table* For the love of god, stop making thirst trap of my dad. He is too old for some of you (He is 20).

Becky: I know right. This is like the sixth thirst trap video that I see of dad.

Carl: I hate this so much. My crush just accepted my confession but on the condition I will introduce her to dad.

Larry: And you agree?

Carl: What? No! Of course not.

Emma: Ugghhh, this is the worst. Maybe we should ask Uncle Tucker to remove all of Dad's thirst trap online. I'm so done with this.

Larry: I don't know. This is the first time girls decide to talk to me voluntarily. I really am enjoying this attention.

Carl: You're happy now until one of the girls decides to confess to you and just as you thought because she likes you, it is because she has a crush on dad.

Larry: I know you just experienced it but you don't need to curse me like that.

Carl: Hmph.

Larry: Hey, has anyone seen Colin? I haven't seen him since last night.

Becky: *Whispersing* Don't you hear? Colin got shot after he went to patrol the night before yesterday. Dad grounds him cause he tries to sneak out injured last night.

Carl: Oof. Colin really doesn't learn does he? Dad has super sense. He literally can't sneak out.

Larry: Yeah. I don't even know why he wants to be a vigilante so much. I guess he is just kind of something. Couldn't be me to be honest.

Emma: Of course he is not like you. You are not even capable of waking up by yourself in the morning.

*Riiiinngggg*

Becky: Well that is our break then. Let's go to class.

Larry: Eh, it's not like Miss Brown gonna scold me if I am a little late anyway. She has been trying to get Dad's number from me for a while now.

Carl: Does dad even have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend? Hell, a partner? I never saw him gone on a date once so far.

Emma: Chances are probably super low. Like to say he is dense is an understatement. A woman tried to flirt with him once but he just replied to all the flirting with the straightest face possible.

The rest: *Giggles*

-Gotham Libraries-

Contrary to what his kids have been believing in, he actually knows when someone is flirting with him. It's just that he takes note from the dense anime protagonist and uses it in daily life whenever he is not interested in a person flirting with him. Which is like daily.

But here is the problem. He can respond to a flirt very easily. He learns a lot of that from when he was dating Sam. But he never actually flirts with someone first. And he isn't sure just how to approach the problem.

Having decided that he has stayed long enough, Danny picks a random book from the space section and brings it to the checkout table.

Danny: Hey Barbara.

Barbara: Hey Danny. Borrowing another book?

Danny: Yeah. I just finished the previous one last night. It is a good book. Thanks for the recommendation.

Barbara: You're welcome. How's the kids doing? Still causing trouble for you?

Danny: It's the same shenanigans everyday. Going to lectures, doing paperwork, taking care of the kids. What about you?

Barbara: It's the same with me. Barely any people come to the library these days. Usually it's only either you or my friends.

Danny: Oh. Errmm, Barbara.

Barbara: Yes?

Danny: Would you be free this weekend?

Barbara: Are you asking me on a date?

Danny: Depends. If it is, what would you say?

Barbara: Hmmm, let me think.

Danny fidgets as Barbara taps her finger on the counter. Barbara loves to tease Danny since he is so cute when he is nervous.

Barbara: I think I am free this weekend. So I am available for a date.

Danny's face beams a smile as he hears that.

Danny: So is that a yes?

Barbara: What do you think, big guy?

Danny: Then I will come pick you up at your apartment then?

Barbara: Come pick me up at my dad's house. I will be ready at 5.

Danny: Okay. Have a good day.

Barbara: You too.

Danny then walks out of the library, skipping a little. He has been gathering courage to ask Barbara out on a date for a long time now. They first met when Danny first borrowed a book from a library. It's nothing crazy. Just interaction between two people. But after meeting up a few more times, Danny realizes that he might have a crush on her. After getting convinced by Tucker and Sam, Danny decided that today is the day he asks her out. And he succeeded.

Now, it is just to make sure that the date goes well.

-Clocktower-

Batman: That's it for tonight. Everyone returns back to the cave.

Black Bat/Spoiler/Red Robin: Roger.

Oracle: Hey, B. Can I have a day off this weekend?

Batman: Why?

Oracle: I have a date that night.

Spoiler: You are dating someone?

Oracle: It's not official yet. He only just asks me out on a date this morning.

Batman: Yes. Keep your comms up. In case a breakout happens your way.

Oracle: Okay.

Red Robin: Who are you going on a date with?

Oracle: Danny.

Spoiler: As in that Danny?

Oracle: Yes.

Spoiler: Oh wow! You work fast. How do you know him?

Oracle: He always comes to the library to borrow books. I met him long before he became famous so it is not so hard to talk with him.

Black Bat: Is he nice?

Oracle: He is very nice. It's very hard to even make him mad. The only time I remember him being in a slightly bad mood is at Christmas. He doesn't like it apparently. Wait, Hood is entering the line.

Red Hood: Oracle, you betray me!

Oracle: Tough luck loser. How do you know anyway?

Red Robin: I told him just now.

Red Hood: Yeah! You dare ask him out on a date first before me? I will remember this.

Oracle: He is the one that actually asks me out. We are going on an official date this weekend. I'll take a very nice picture of us together so that you can see from afar.

Red Hood: But your status still isn't official yet. I still have a chance.

Oracle: Over my dead body.

Red Hood: Oh, I will.

Spoiler: Errr, guys. What is happening?

Red Robin: They have a bet on who will get to date Danny first. Apparently Hood gets a massive crush on this guy after what happens in the livestream. Oracle gets the news and they quarrel a little bit. After that I propose a competition between the two.

Spoiler: But both of you don't know that Oracle is already close with Danny. Girl, that's dirty.

Oracle: All is fair in love and war.

Batman: What is his background?

Red Robin: As far as I can see, he is pretty clean. There is even what I suspect some vigilante works that he might have done because he is related to the disbandment of GIW that were supported by both his parents and his godfather. But after some digging into the old GIW files, there are traces of Danny and his friends helping the local ghost hero fighting either other ghosts or the agents themselves. There was also the unexplained money that he suddenly had early on in his career as CEO but so far, it doesn't seem like anything bad.

Robin: Hmmm.

Red Robin: What is it brat?

Robin: I feel like his face is very familiar.

Batman: Explain.

Robin: I need to confirm this with mother. But I am fairly certain that his ancestors have connections with the Al Ghul.

Red Robin: As in blood related?

Robin: No. But there is a book that mother finds about a man who has a very similar appearance to him. The book tells the tale of a kind immortal who spends his lives helping others while learning stuff from them.

Spoiler: A cult of assassins teach young children to be kind?

Robin: Shut it, Brown. I am not finished. The part of the story that interests me is the tale called The Beheader of Demon.

Spoiler: I take it back. That sounds like something a cult of assassins will teach young children.

Robin: The tale tells a story of the immortal meeting a demon who kills people just to find immortality. When the demon finds out that the immortal is well, immortal, he pursues the immortal, trying to kill him and forces the immortal to give away his immortality to him.

Red Robin: What happened next?

Robin: The Demon's head is severed and the Demon's subordinates run away bringing the Demon's body to the pool of revival.

Spoiler: So is this a true story?

Robin: Mother confirms it is a true story. I do not know whether he is a true immortal or not. However, I do know that his ancestors or maybe even him, is good enough to beat grandfather even if he has backup.

Red Hood: What about the other tales?

Robin: There is nothing of note. Some mention of the immortal's supernatural ability, like summoning the dead or the ability to move mountains and divert rivers.

Red Robin: That is not something to take note of?

Robin: No. Because in those stories, the only consistent thing about him is that he is kind. Never harm someone unless provoked.

Batman: Compile all the tales into a file. Red Robin, lists out all the possible powers of target.

Oracle: Oh wow. My date is now a target. How could this get better?

Red Hood: If he is really dangerous, I volunteer to stalk monitor them while they are on the date.

Oracle & Batman: No!

Red Hood: Tsk! Party pooper.

Batman: Red Robin and Spoiler, follow them. Priority is keeping Oracle safe.

Red Robin & Spoiler: *High five* Let's go.

Oracle: Ugghhh, you all better don't mess with my date. Or else I'll make sure you regret it.

Part 3

[sirxlla]

You Randomly Get Kidnapped but You Can Handle Yourself (Batboys)

(Requested by @nesting-dreams ily sm thank you for all the ideas/prompts xxx)

------------------------------------------------

Dick: He was never one to have or tell you what you could and couldn't do. For you, you wanted to work a job like a regular person even though he said he would financially support you. You didn't want to feel like you were mooching off of him.

So as unfortunate as it was you were trying to get in your vehicle after working a really long shift at the hospital while on the phone with Dick, a man came up behind you and they were very swiftly beaten with a metal waterbottle.

Dick was obviously very worried cause of what he heard and he was already patroling the area which meant he very swiftly came to you. You were sat ontop of the man, his arms pinned under your knees as you brutally smacked him over and over with a waterbottle.

"You wanna kidnap people in the middle of the night, You Little Shit?!" You were yelling.

Nightwing had to pull you off of the man noticing the damage you did, it took everything for Dick not to laugh at this man. He got beat up by a tired nurse with a fuckin waterbottle, needless to say he was proud and the man was swiftly arrested. The pair of you went home to have a well deserved nap.

Jason: Being the man he is he decided that it was a fantastic idea to give you a very strong tazer for your birthday because he thought you might need it and you really wanted one.

"I hope someone would, I'll taze their dick off!" You waved the uncharged tazer around very happy about the gift.

"You'll taze their dick off?" He laughed as he appreciated your enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, when you hope for something bad to happen it usually brings bad things around, you we're trying to get into the apartment with Jason was on the other side which of course the dumb ass trying to kidnap you didn't realize that.

By the time Jason get out there you were very clearly tasing this mother fucker in the balls. The man was groaning in very obvious pain, a shot of electricity to the family jewels didn't feel very good.

"You wanna go again, Asshole? You want me to taze you in the mouth, I'm sure that shit hurts just as much."

"I think you got him, Babygirl." He was smiling with full pride. He knew you would never use the taser without knowing 100% that you could do it without getting hurt and you very successfully did.

The man was left there and Jason brought you back inside, put your tazer back on the charger and then showed you all the ways he was very proud of you.

Bruce: He really didn't want you to have any sort of self-defense tool because he knew that if you fought back the likelihood that they would hurt you is extremely higher.

Naturally, you being you you bought a little bracelet that if you press it then it makes a very loud noise which can hurt whoever's ears you're pointing it at.

Another feature on there is that it sent him your location which was probably something that he would have been okay with if that's all it did but alas it was not.

From sparring with Bruce you knew a lot and this asshole pissed you off, trying to kidnap a woman while she was pumping gas? "I think the fuck not."

You had very promptly pushed the button and cupped it against the man's ear which caused him to get disoriented and fall flat on his stupid face.

"That's why you don't mess with girls at the gaspump! Suck my metaphorical dick, Motherfucker!" You would think that this was a Fortnite game with the way that you were acting, to anyone else it would have been the funniest thing ever but of course Bruce doesn't have the biggest sense of humor.

He thought what you were doing was reckless and stupid, you should have gotten your car and left. Bruce proceeded to lecture you the entire night about exactly what you should have done and why it was dangerous and how you're lucky that it didn't turn out worse than it was.

"We don't take pride when we hurt someone and we sure as hell don't gloat. What we're you thinking? He couldve got up. That was reckless."

Tim: Tim craved coffee like it was some sort of drug needing to be injected into jis veins and you really really loved the little muffins the coffee shop had. You got up early in the morning and we're making your way to the coffee shop.

You figured out you were being followed quite quickly so of course the only thing you had in your bag was your wallet and maybe a few pens. Nothing the regular person would think would be overly useful in a situation like this.

The pen was useful though if you used it right, it was swiftly brought between your fingers, you texted Tim you were being followed. He very promptly shot out of bed to protect you, throwing on whatever close were scattered around the messy bedroom.

Once he found you, you were leturing the man on all the places you could stick the pen. The man was on the ground pinned to the floor. None of the Batboys were ever gonna let their woman go out of sight without some sorta training.

"I could stick this in your jugular, if you'd like. I could gove you the choice you were never gonna give me."

"You could stick it in his eye, its less lethal and could be considered an accident." Tim chimed in with a smile, the smile on Tim's face was quickly matched by yours.

The man underneath you was panicking because for all he knew you two were complete psychopaths considering jow many Gotham has. He started begging for you to let him go, You got off him while clicking the pen which made him run off like a little crybaby.

Tim and you walked hand and hand to the coffee shop like nothing ever happened. You both knew the pen wasn't what scared him if was your confidence and the way you spouted things off like a crazy person.

Damian: Damian was very much his father's son and he would do the same psychotics weird ass shit that Bruce did. The only difference was he asked you and you very clearly said no to a tracking device being put in you but that did not stop him from doing it and he did it very easily without you noticing.

Of course he didn't know anything was wrong until he noticed that you're tracking device really didn't move too much. He was kinda worried but it was instantly interrupted.

The phone rang and it was a guy calling for ransom while a guy in the background argued with you and said something about you stabbing him in the ass.

"We want a million." The man said off the bat.

"That's all your gonna ask for?!" Then there was the sound of the phone hitting the floor while you beat the shit out of them with a chair leg.

"You should really have better quality shit if you're gonna kidnap someone!" You yelled while the two men grunted on the floor, the first one had had the chair smashed into his back and this one was being wacked with a chair leg.

Damian showed up in regular clothes, he could tell by the phone call you didn't need any help.

"How the fuck did you know where I am?" You asked with clear suspicion and irritation.

"I traced the cell phone call." He lied very easily but there was something off and you could tell. He always kind of scratched his chin when he told you a lie and he had a shitty poker face.

"You put a tracker in me?! When we get home, you are cutting it out. I dont care that you track me but I'd rather not have a weird piece of metal in my body, Damian! I already have this stupid birth control for you, but at least that shit's been tested."

He knew that there was no point in fighting with you so therefore when the both of you got home, he cut it out and he stitched it back up and did everything he could to apologize without actually saying the words. You wore tracking bracelet from then on, a lot less invasive of the body.

Damian definitely was left apologizing over that for months cause he knew he betrayed your wishes and your trust. It was flowers, jewlery, gifts galore. Damian was never good with his words, you knew he was sorry but you wanted him to say it. Once he did the tension between the two of you quickly evaporated into thin air.

-> Masterlist <-

-> Send me prompts if you'd like <-

[onlymimiwastaken]

Warrior Penelope stuff cause I've been listening to too many EPIC genderbent covers, and I wanted to give my take on it (also cuz I kinda want to draw it one day)

- Ares as Penelope's patron, absolutely! But Ares didn't have a huge cult in Sparta, although he wasn't hated. So my lore take version thing is that ATHENA wanted to be Penelope's patron (she had already an eye on Ody kinda) but Ares saw his chance, got to it first and became attached to Penelope without wanting to admit it, also because she saw the good and useful in him. Athena still watches over Penelope (especially after her and Ares platonically break up, which she finds really stupid) and is the one who does her best to protect Ithaca while she's gone. She's by Ody's side while he misses his wife and is mostly the reason why the Suitors hadn't taken over yet.

- To get Ares to realize his mistake, Athena tricks him into helping Telemachus defeat Antinous in Little Wolf because free bloodshed, only to end up sensitized by Telemachus because holy shit, my friend's son is here almost dying to this ASSHOLE who thinks he's so much stronger than MY friend the queen and even me like who tf does he think he is. Athena makes Ares fucking rational for once. And maybe even Aphrodite, as well, gets some damn sense in his mind like "they love each other like you and I and my girl is doing her best to get home you're going to apologize rn"

- ctimene holds a claymore double her height with no problems

- penelope is more "cold ruthless" than Odysseus, in a way that she's still poised (until the end or when she's really brought to her knees which is disturbing) while doing merciless stuff. She's emotionless a lot more (just on the surface)

- Ares was the one to give Penelope the idea of going to war instead of Odysseus, for obvious reasons. And Pen is really a mastermind among the Greeks ofc

- Ares and Pen fought in their My Goodbye version because she "held back her power while her friends got devoured" "she didn't even fight Polyphemus, didn't even TRY to kill him" "hid behind her wits to get things done". Because when fighting Polyphemus, she knew that if she tried to kill Polyphemus while he was asleep, they'd be stuck in that cave forever (like in the real Odyssey). And knew that fighting while her friends got killed would slow them down and probably get more people dead. And when they ran away, she didn't go back to kill the Cyclops even if she could've because of yes, mercy, but also because she would've awakened all the other Cyclops and sailing away was faster, better. Ares deemed this cowardice. Crazy thing, since one of the most important things to him is courage.

- Ares overstimates Penelope's power. Like, yes, she's exceptional, but still HUMAN. With her limits. He hasn't dealt with a human personally in years so he doesn't understand this, so his expectations are ridiculously high, which ends up breaking Penelope.

- During 600 strike, Penelope can actually breathe underwater and not hold her breath for such a long time and be fine because she's half naiad (yes, they are fresh water nymphs but still). Also this may make her even stronger around water (to a certain degree, she's still very mortal)

- calypso is pansexual

this is already a lot, ill add more when i think about it lol (also if i realize any of these ideas don't make sense)(check reblogs for more)

[vieoeil-riae]

Could u do Steb having a crush/pre-relationship? Headcannons or fic whichever is easiest for you! Your writing is so good omg

hey babycakes 😘 this one's for you 🫵🫵🫵 *shoots and misses*

anyways, I didn't know if you wanted it SFW or NSFW so I just made it SFW in case but if you want me to write something spicy all u have to do is come back and ask so dw

I see you more, more, and more

steb/gn!reader

warnings: SFW, zaunite!reader for the fic section, selectively mute! steb (HOWEVER he does speak once ☝ and it is treated with appropriate gravity), unintentionally gn!reader so if something isn't gn then gimme a shout and I'll reword, mix of hc and fic, fic is 3.6k words

synopsis: Steb, the romantic

read on ao3 | ao3 profile | ao3 collection | masterlist

this guy is like. old school, kinda. like fairly traditional in the sense he's very much into doing things for you and being someone you can depend on, just without any pressure on you to give him what he wants because of it

additionally, while respectful and not touchy when getting to know you, he tends to hover closer to you the more he comes to like you, he's called the silent guardian for a reason

keenly observant, notices if and when you fluster because of him

HOWEVER he does have insecurities that quietly float around the back of his mind when he's not actively fighting them, and because of that, tends to deny to himself the fact he almost definitely caused that heat on your cheeks

the insecurities aren't major per say, but as you get closer you notice how he tends to avoid your eyes when you're tracing the feature of his face

if you subtly tell him you think he's beautiful, he'll have a bit of an internal freak out, but the most you'll see on his face is a small, wobbly smile

quietly leaves you love letters, not as secretive as a secret admirer, but enough that it keeps a bit of doubt in the back of your mind - he likes the slight mind game as well as the suspicious gaze you give him if you ever read one in front of him, it's cute

will leave you flowers when he's deeper into the crush

that also means he sometimes has a small bouquet of them on his desk at work, waiting to be given to you, and his coworkers have teased him for it before

he doesn't have many friends, something he's honestly okay with, but pre-war he had introduced you to maddie whilst "stumbling across you" while working

he pays for things for you, but respects you so he'll let you split the cost of something if you really want, he just wants to help you

you rolled your ankle once and being medically trained, he wanted to take a look. that involved taking off your shoe and holding your ankle in a way that felt more intimate than he thought it would, all you could see was him worrying his lip, but inside he was having... a moment

if you wanted him to quit his job, you could convince him with a LOT of talking but he has a very strong sense of duty so he'd probably become a paramedic or something similar if you were successful/ post!war he'd likely be more critical of his occupation, he was hopeful policing could be a good thing but he becomes disillusioned after fighting alongside zaunites and seeing how poorly sevika was received by the council

he does have the balls to admit when he's wrong, he just has a stubborn streak that you wouldn't notice immediately because of how quiet he is

speaking of quitting being a cop, he's actually quite open-minded and likes listening to you talk - he's gotten very good at it (he likes the sound of your voice, okay? and definitely not in a weird way! deffffinitely not. totally.)

he likes it when he makes a face at something and you laugh

teaches you sign language, touching your hands so much is just a bonus to the already immense reward of you finally being able to understand all the compliments he gives you

you two end up keeping small notepads on you to talk with as well, you don't particularly need them to talk but you often find yourself writing your responses

steb likes your handwriting, he sees you in everything once he's fallen for you, so seeing something made by your own hand feels like seeing a part of you

You met while he was on duty, minding your own business as you busted dishes at the tiny cafe you worked at in the boundary markets, closer to Zaun's side.

Golden hour sank over the city, glinting off of the bronze trimmings and smooth glass of the market's highest buildings — shadow pooling where the high arches and packed structural webbing hid the flagstone from the sun.

It was just another day in the small cafe you found work in, a popular place for anybody worth anything (though the number was low, only a decent handful of well-known zaunites ever crossed the threshold, maybe a shifty looking piltie now and then but it was rare) to take a shopping break.

The outside seating was understandably unpopular, too many eager hands and too much industrial smog for a drink to really be enjoyed. Still, some thick piltie had managed to have a sit-down without getting shaken down on the table you were clearing.

You muttered under your breath, cussing them out for having left the table in such a mess - seriously, how much coffee could one person spill! They hadn't even tried to leave it orderly like most other people did. That meant you were stuck putting a hell of an amount of elbow grease into scrubbing a ring of dried coffee from the wood.

You never looked up, not even when you slapped the rag you were using down, digging one fist into your hip as your other swept over your hair in an attempt to tame it despite the humid nature of Zaun's air.

That meant you never caught the first time Steb ever saw you, missing the way he seemed to freeze in his tracks at seeing you — ears perked, eyes curious.

He would never be able to tell you what made him stop verbally, but that wasn't a problem. In fact, in hindsight you almost appreciated it since it meant many a carefully crafted love letter being slipped towards you with flushed cheeks and fluttering frills.

Steb had written it out once, for an important occasion you don't remember as well as the letter. He spoke of you, how the light caught on your hair, your skin, the way you looked so... human. Frazzled, pissed off, and alone was his first impression of you — a strike of something beyond reason drew him closer.

You noticed him the second time, however, when he broke up a brawl just starting to form outside of the cafe. It didn't go well per say, the people not taking well to an enforcer trying to get in their business, resulting in a swift punch to the jaw before they dispersed — apparently too pissed about Steb's interference to argue straight away.

You peeked out of your shop door, staring at the way he gently rubbed his jaw, paying attention to the way he traced the two slits just above his jawbone. For an enforcer, he was damn pretty, but you still didn't want anything to do with him. You shut the door.

Another letter detailed the first time he saw your eyes properly, you had blushed horribly, hiding your hot cheeks in the paper once you'd finished reading how, in explicit detail, how beautiful they were. Steb had tugged the paper down with a pleased grin, haloed by the mid afternoon sun soaking through the botanical garden's trees, quite happy with your reaction. A bouquet of carnations sat by your thigh, organised and carefully wrapped by hand.

He’d started coming into the shop during his patrols at some point, ignoring the sharp looks he got from most of your usual customers. At first, he had a ginger girl in tow — Maddie, you later learned — who ordered for the both of them, but eventually, after almost a month of ordering the same drink he started to come alone. 

You’d get him the same thing every time, getting more and more used to finding his face through the market’s crowds. Familiarity begets fondness, you supposed, as you started to appreciate the way Steb managed to look so angular but so soft at the same time while trying not to feel like too much of a class traitor. Nothing wrong with a bit of window shopping, right? 

He never talked, but as a service worker that was something you’d come to appreciate; no awkward small talk or verbal abuse, just a sweet smile and a cursory chin raise to the item board and you already knew what he wanted. Though while making his order, black coffee, you’d find yourself making small talk; eyes shifting back and forth from your work and his face as you looked for his expressions and head tilts. You were a service worker, you were meant to be friendly, nothing wrong there.

His handwriting, neat and sometimes swoopy, layed out how much he enjoyed watching you watch him. The way you managed to carry the conversation without his verbal feedback, the way you cared enough to look for what he was saying with his face — and eventually his hands — where most other people would opt to brush him off. It made his heart beat out of time when you’d laugh at your own jokes; all the furious blushes fought down when your fingers slid over his to give him his drink.

Steb had noticed you outside of work too, running errands. It was his duty, he rationalised, to help people and that totally justified swooping in to help you with your shopping. It was the friendly neighbourhood cop situation of all time, why wouldn’t he? It didn’t mean anything, drinking in your face as it went from confused to surprised when you realised you’d managed to catch him somewhere other than the markets, listening contently as you described your mundane day — surely.

But that was a lie, one he could justify getting closer to you with, and as much as he didn’t like lying, it was worth it. You were brighter than him, naturally, based on the mere fact you talked and he didn’t; it was no surprise that your alien nature drew him in. You were warm too, you gave a damn about things other than yourself.

A Zaunite, you talked, you lived in a completely different world to him; there was no reason for him to like you so much, in fact, by all accounts you should hate each other. That didn’t stop him from flustering immensely when the small talk over the counter started to include small flirts thrown his way.

Compliments, off-handed and usually one word, ‘hey, handsome’ thrown his way when he walked in the door. It caught him off guard the first time. Force policies on public relations clashing with this tumbling wave of lovesickness and pride that spiked his veins leaving his mouth open as he stared at you, faint blush dusting his cheeks.

His frills fluttered out of time, you noticed, enjoying the show as Steb came back to his senses. You’d given him a teasing apology, melodramatic through a smile, telling him that you were sorry about increasing his risk of arrhythmia more than you already were with the coffee.

More bashfully than he would’ve liked, he’d slid an envelope across the counter towards you with the payment. You gave him a weird look when you turned to it, flicking your eyes up at him in question before tucking it in your pocket and giving him his drink.

You turned to clean, and Steb slipped extra cash in the tip jar; more than necessary, but he’d seen you looking a little thin recently.

It was only a minute or two later when you hastily slid into the seat across from him with the envelope in your hands, open this time. Steb watched your mouth open and close as you tried to ask him what the hell he was thinking, amused by the fact he’d finally managed to render you speechless too.

“You… want to take me out on a… date?” You had asked with a deeply confused tone. He liked the way your eyebrows furrowed, a tinge of embarrassment laced in the mix. The way you seemed disbelieving would’ve been cuter if he wasn’t getting antsy himself.

He was in the minority in terms of appearance; fishy, a little amphibian, a lot greener than his peers. The city of progress was a real mix of people, but that didn’t stop a cloying feeling of insecurity following him from childhood to right now. He was odd, he knew that, but he chewed the inside of his cheek as he hoped you wouldn’t outright turn him down.

Steb looked the smallest you’d ever seen him, shoulders hunched and expression troubled in a far cry from his usual neutral expression. Have you said something wrong?

“It’s not a no!” You shot, straightening up from your casual, slumped position to lean towards him, elbows on the table. You rolled the words around in your head and he watched as your expression shifted. “It’s just… Why me?”

A zaunite, no one special, just a barista, what would a piltie want with you of all people? 

Steb made the sign for a pen; you tossed him one quickly alongside your notepad. You watched as he scribbled out a page, and then another, and then another. At this point you were more shocked that he had so much to say.

The pad was promptly slid back to you, and Steb avoided looking at your eyes, forcing you to look at the writing.

It was one hell of an explanation, you could’ve mistaken him for a poet despite the rushed look of the whole thing. Heat prickled at your skin as you kept reading all the internal reasoning you hadn’t been privy to until now. He described almost everything about you in such a rosy way it left your jaw dropped, stumped on just how observant (and into you) one guy could be.

Still looking at the notepad, you began to nod, “yeah… yeah! Yeah! I’ll- yeah.”

You giggled, a hand running over your hair as you looked up at Steb again — who’d been quietly observing your expressions from the moment you started reading. There was a whole world to be found in your face, in his opinion, it felt like watching hundreds of great masterpieces of art work move in front of him in real time when he looked at you. 

Senselessly, in a way he could never phrase right, you were beautiful the same way space was. A vast space full of bright lights that dazzled in a way that was nearly spiritual. Maybe it was a bit much for the crush he had on a barista from the boundary markets that he’d only known for a couple of months, but he was a romantic at heart.

“I’d like that.” You smiled, unable to look him in the eye until you noticed the way he perked up. That was one of the joys of knowing Steb, learning to read him and finally seeing what he wanted to say. Miniscule gestures suddenly carried the weight of the world.

His frills fluttered with a sense of pride and he stood from his seat. You watched him, almost perplexed but ultimately enamoured by the new lens you were seeing him in, as he hesitantly reached for your hand. You gave it to him, curiosity brimming.

Tenderly, gently, barely even a brush, Steb kissed your knuckles. Stooped over just for you, treating you like you were precious; it just about set your face on fire. He tipped his hat to you just before you left, a smuggish look that barely differed from his usual expression passed across his face. Raised eyebrows and a fond, teasing smile made you flush even worse. All that, and he quietly exited the shop, leaving you a mess in his wake.

You weren’t told until a long time after, but the second he was out of sight from the cafe, Steb was fighting a speed-walk all the way to Maddie’s station to tell her about you. The story was shared quietly, written out in a notepad while you were curled up in each other on the sofa. The mood was somber, but his heart was still out for you to see, that meant more than the way his ears were pinned to his skull and the way you could feel him sink just a little deeper into you.

Next Friday had rolled around and you were dressed up more than you ever had been, standing on your doorstep, peering down the street in search of the hot cop you absolutely had a crush on. God, some zaunite you were. 

It was clumsy, you spent the night at a fancy (by your standards) restaurant flirting the best you could — feeling out of place unless you were looking at Steb. But by the time you left, you’d started to relax.

You strolled by a fountain at some point. You didn’t remember, but Steb did. A letter hidden under your pillow after a fight that told you about what it was like to see you start to bare your soul to him. He said he could’ve mistaken you for glowing, street lights painting you in gentle, warm hues as your eyes sparkled at him, telling him something about water pipes at home. The words didn’t matter so much as the joy in your voice.

It had made him feel like he was living life how he was meant to. Just you, Steb, and a night that felt nearly infinite and it made him wonder if love always felt so freeing. Billions before you had shared moments similar, and all of a sudden it felt like he knew every inch of adoration ever felt towards anything. He didn’t tell you then, it would’ve been too much, but he told you in the letter. 

You sought him out the next day, not entirely forgiving him yet, but assuring you’d still be there when he got home.

Outings with Steb became more frequent, but importantly he had invited you over to his home more than once. You’d been so curious but so timid, not wanting to intrude too much, endearing in the contrast to your Zaun-built, confident demeanor.

The only problem was that seeing you eventually get comfortable in his home, around the places he went, was doing something to his heart; much worse than before, it squeezed at the thought of you in his life properly. Imagined mornings of waking up to see you in bed next to him almost did your arrhythmia comment justice.

More strikingly though, was the accompanying acknowledgement that in those fantasies, you tended to be… bereft of clothing. Padding around his room with every inch of your skin there for him to see, not provocatively, just comfortably. It made him needier than he’d ever want to admit (then, at least) and he didn’t invite you over again until you grew comfortable enough to be touchy with him.

Light brushes; hand holding; hugs that lasted too long to be just friendly, to him they meant he was allowed to imagine more with you. He invited you over for dinner the day after you slid your hands under the back of his uniform’s half-jacket while you hugged him.

There were flowers, dances, cute dates he absolutely insisted he paid for — everything gentlemanly he could do, he did. Treating you right was a reward in itself to Steb, loving you wasn’t housekeeping, it was a way of existing; a comfort; a lot of things he didn’t know how to say despite the fact you teased him for having the soul of a poet. It felt right and you smiled genuinely, that’s all that mattered.

The breaking point was a little date he took you on, having swept into the cafe and slipped a note asking (almost pleading) for you to take a trip inland to a large lake with sandy beaches. When you inevitably said yes, he grinned in a way you’d have never guessed was possible about a year ago.

His face was typically stoic, only small shifts and twitches you had to know him to pick up on really gave him away. Over months you’d not only learned them, but had been let in on his feelings too — a facet of himself gifted almost exclusively to you.

It was his own doom he was walking into, he knew that and felt rather guilty about it, but the image of you dripping wet — standing half-submerged in a still lake, maybe in the golden hour he first noticed you in, was enough temptation for him to bend to his own wants.

The actual journey was revealing enough, you hiked and stumbled, laughing the whole way; comfortable with him. It made him realise what he felt towards you wasn’t just a fragile thing to be stoked tenderly like a fire he was worried about going out. Watching you gasp for breath in between laughs as you beat him to a trail marker but fell over once you reached it, he realised what he felt for you was fully formed.

He did get his moment, watching the lake water pool over your skin, ultimately lost in you and the feeling he’d swim with you forever if you just asked. Your background didn’t matter, he was concerned only with the endless possibilities of a future with you, if you wanted that too.

Steb joined you, a feeling of relief flooding him like the water did, sending you a small, but intimate, smile before sinking beneath the surface. 

The water wet his gills properly for the first time in a while, something that always felt satisfying, and he aimed for you. Your feet still touched the ground, semi-hesitant about going much deeper. He surfaced behind you, mindfully pulling you into a hug. You leaned back, enjoying the closeness for a moment before you turned around.

“Thank you for bringing me. It’s beautiful out here.” You spoke softly, tracing the paths of water droplets that slid down his skin in reverse. Your fingers skimmed the very edges of Steb’s gill slits and he shuddered all the way to the frills on his face.

Carefully, not looking away from your face for a second, he traced your lips with a delicate finger. You stayed quiet, questioning, but transfixed on the way he looked at you so reverently; there was a look in his eyes, warm in ways you’d never seen turned to you in full before.

His eyes darted down to your lips, then back to your eyes, a request swirling in his irises. He wanted you, and it was only a matter of if you wanted him back. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a hurt little feeling cooed worries at him. Unable to quash them, he settled into the uneasy feeling — letting the moment continue.

You leaned towards Steb, your nose skimming over his. The feeling quieted, like a held breath.

You met his lips with the same human-ness and soft edge he’d seen in you from the beginning, fireworks weren’t what he felt; he felt like melting wax, fluid and free with relief — wanting to sink into the shape you wanted him to be while also feeling more in control in some way he’d never felt so much before.

You gasped at his wet hand, cold from the air meeting the remaining water on it, that cradled your waist. The gentle tip of his tongue brushed your bottom lip, asking for permission you gave him almost instantly with a tilt of your head.

It was an electrifying taste, a fraction of the warmth you held that felt like it carried the weight of the world in the way you let him — even wanted him — to explore your mouth. Your hands slipped over his shoulders, trailing over his skin as if trying to memorise them in excruciating detail.

Your hand found his jaw again, swiping gently over the bone before running along his gill slits again. He made a choked sound you swallowed before pulling away, resting your forehead against his. He nuzzled his face into the side of your head soon after, you heard him breathe, catching the soft sound of every inhale. Steb inhaled sharply.

“May I be yours?” He whispered in your ear, his voice raspy with disuse. It was by no means a small act, talking was made difficult by his biology already; a lifelong fight that had at some point turned into an emotional discomfort with talking as well. For his job, his sense of duty could shove the deep-rooted pang of fear down enough, but in any other case his voice disappeared like steam in the wind.

But it was important here, with you, who had taken up residence in his heart — never once making or even asking him to talk, accepting him as he was. The fizzing of his nerves in this moment was down to anticipation, not fear; and with all his need for you, he could bare a whisper.

“Please.” You whispered back before the gravity of it all left you scrambling, “And let me be yours, too.”

Steb captured your lips in a wordless kiss, more passionate than gentle, his fingers digging into your waist like was afraid you’d disappear if he let go even for a moment. The initial shot of relief gave way to a feeling of satisfaction that purred in his chest, the press of your warm body against his made him feel full.

His hand twisted in your hair, dragging you into his lap as he sank into the water’s buoyancy.

A/N: SURPRISEEEEEE ITS NOT SMUT FOR ONCE!! did I getcha????? I'll be honest writing something that wasn't porn for him was harder than expected bc I've got NO practice for him

also perhaps I have outed myself as a league lore knower but that's fine I've been into worse I used to like hetalia

anyways hope u like this anon 💕💕

[bellanothadidloa]

I've been receiving a lot of inquiries since sharing my success story, and while I'm not planning to start a blog, I do want to address some common questions here.

Did I manifest everything from the void?

Yes, everything I listed was indeed manifested when I entered the void, as outlined in my story. I've had some successes with various experiments before, but none reached the level of my most recent attempt.

What was the most crucial factor in achieving the final breakthrough?

I wish there was a straightforward answer, but it probably boils down to the realization that no matter how much I complained or cried, I was determined not to give up. I would read success stories and find myself in tears because they mirrored the life I aspired to have. I wanted to shift realities, be wealthy, happy, and beautiful—it might sound vain, but that's what I desired. I longed to feel free, unbound by any world, and to pursue my own path. Who wouldn't want that? At some point, I asked myself, would I still be trying to shift at 30, while struggling with dietary issues caused by gut praxis disorder? If the answer was yes, what did that mean? It meant I wasn't going to give up. So, I kept trying different things, knowing that eventually, something would work. Inner work is essential, but I believe it's inevitable. The longest journey I've seen took seven years. Do I want that for myself? Absolutely not, but what if it happens? The very acceptance of that possibility means you're not giving up, so what does it matter?

What method did you use?

As I've mentioned, I've tried every method. The final one that worked was the morphic field. I don't really care whether it was the morphic fields or something else that clicked within me. As I mentioned earlier, I realized I was sad, but I knew I wasn't going to give up, so I let myself be sad. Who cares? Let me be angry; I'm still not giving up. So, why fight those feelings? I cared and was disappointed and scared, but I just decided to trust in the fields because, in the end, it didn't matter whether they worked or not. I wasn't giving up.

How do you feel now that you've achieved your dream life?

I've managed to transform my life and self-concept, and along with being incredibly happy, I feel a mix of sadness for everything I endured and pride for how I pushed myself before succeeding. Initially, I thought it would be hypocritical to say I love myself after I changed everything about myself, looks and life, but I realized this is my life, and I'm still the same person, just with desires that now align with my reality. Why would I want to be unhappy in a life that makes no sense to be sad in? I don't believe anyone deserves or doesn't deserve anything. Do what you want, pursue inner work if you wish, or just manifest your desires. Personally, I didn't feel the need to do the inner work after manifesting my dream life, but I know some people do, and that's beautiful too. Life is just beautiful.

How to mend your relationship with the void?

The only advice I can offer from my experience is to acknowledge that you're not giving up on it. It reminds me of toxic relationships where despite infidelity, they say, "I know where home is." Unlike those misguided people, the void genuinely serves its purpose and supports you. It already knows its home is with you, whether you realize it or not, and that's all that matters.

How did you exit the void state ?

Exiting the void was a simple experience for me. I simply took a deep, calming breath and set a clear intention to leave. The sensation that followed was like tunnel vision, where everything around me seemed to narrow and focus. This was followed by a profound sense of detachment from any sense of self, almost like becoming weightless or losing a sense of individual identity. When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself in a completely new room, confirming that I had successfully transitioned out of the void and back to reality with everything on my life

Did everything you wanted come true?

Oh, absolutely—and then some! I ended up getting things I didn't even know I wanted. The way I look now is even better than my Pinterest boards ever dreamed of. Like, I had this idea for how I wanted my room to look, trying to mash together different vibes and aesthetics, and it turned out way better than I could have pictured. I was stuck between wanting a curvy figure and that sleek Bella Hadid look, but somehow I got the best of both worlds, which is exactly what I was hoping for.

I wasn’t even thinking about changing my eye color, but it happened, and I absolutely love it. I thought I'd revise old friends, but instead, I found new, amazing people who fit into my life perfectly. Now that I’ve got a better sense of self, I see this is exactly what I really wanted deep down. Everything just fell into place so perfectly, and it feels like I've finally got a handle on what I truly wanted all along.

Can you manifest things for other people?

Well, yeah, but it’s kind of like it's really just about yourself in a way. I mean, there have been times when I managed to manifest things for my brother, but oddly enough, I struggled to do the same for myself. It's weird, right? I don't fully understand how manifestation works in every detail. I just kind of go with the flow and assume it works the way I want it to. If I can pull off all these manifestations, then why not just trust that I can manifest whatever I want, however I want it? That's the mindset I've adopted, and it seems to work for me.

What's it like being a master shifter?

It's like waking up and remembering who you truly are, and almost laughing at all the suffering you experienced. When you think about it, you might have lowkey created that suffering yourself, which is kind of sadistic, but instead of holding onto any negative emotions about the journey, I just appreciate my life more. It’s a mix of joy and bliss. I still remember my old life, sure, but somehow, this new reality feels just right. It's like destiny exists, and I’ve finally found mine.

This concludes everything for me, and I’ve decided I won't be continuing my blog any longer. I've shared a lot of helpful insights in the past, but I won't be actively posting from now on. Thank you all for the love and support. I’ve reached a point where I no longer have a reason to continue here, and soon, you won't either. Goodbye and take care!

[unluckilyimnot]

hiîi, can you write bllk chara tera introducing their gf to the press or the press somehow finding you that the players have a gf

idk if this makes sense but pleaseee write it I love your blog sm <3

The press found out about their relationship - Rin, Sae, Kaiser, Isagi, Karasu

m.list | rules

Note : hii ! Thank you sm for your request! I take some times to go through some of my requests before writing with another media I'm really into rn, sorry some will wait a bit mor

Same as the others ! There wasn't anyone mentioned but don't hesitate to ask for your fav if you want ♡

Rin

He's not fan of it

I guess he adapted to it quickly, you being bring on a lot the first few weeks and things like that

But he's so tensed about it you have to calm him down a lot at first

He's upset all the time You have to remind him that's it's not only a bad things

And that people's reactions has been relatively good, that's already a good point

He's more worried about you obviously but in the end you're the one taking care of him

He feels a bit bad but yeah, he appreciates it a lot

Don't expect a lot of changes tho, he doesn't want his love life all over the internet

Sae

He's annoyed when the press found out, to say the least

He wish it could've stay private and doesn't want people to be after you

He hates the fact that he's ask about it now and has to be even more cold in interview than before

He tries to be unbothered but knowing how it changed your life it's impossible

Behind closed door at first he can spend a lot of time with you so make it up

He's famous so I think people tried to know more about you and invade your personal space

I don't think it necessarily goes wrong on social media, it's just trending a lot for a few days

You have to moderate your account a lot cause there's always hater

He still doesn't talk about you bc you asked him to

but he feel less pressure if some pictures of you two end up in the internet

Kaiser

He's ANGRY

Don't get it wrong, he thought about revealing your relationship a few times and you were still talking about it

But this happening without his consent or yours drive him crazy at first

Yet on camera he's cocky about it, telling he doesn't mind and rumbling about how gorgeous you are

He takes the opportunity as it is and posy about you more on his social media, without hiding you so much

He has his lawer ready to anyone spitting shit at you on social media tho

Don't mess with his s/o, he'll take actions

Isagi

He's lost poor guy

If you cry about it he does his absolute best to comfort you before contacting his agent to see what he can do

Honestly He's use to it but if you're not used to the fame, he's careful so your anxiety don't go crazy

He's sad if that change your life a lot but he does his best to not change a thing in your routine

The good point is that, like Kaiser, he can pray a lot more with you than before and he's really happy about it !!

He likes to share with people I think so it open a lot of doors

Karasu

He acts cool in front of the camera but he's annoyed

It was early in your relationship and he's scared it's gonna fucked it up

You have to be the one comforting him

You're not the type to make promises if you're not sure of yourself, but you assure him that the press and people finding out didn't scared you

You'll stay with him as long as possible, you don't see yourself leaving because of this

He's probably needed this more than he would've admit cause after this, being on camera is easier again

He's not upset anymore if they ask about you since you gave him a green light

He feels even lighter than before, in fact

[higuchisora]

Seeing as they clearly didn't know what the hell to do with Jinx/the political repercussions of her bombing the council in season 2, I'd like to explore the possibilities of how Zaun would've reacted to this that would've made way more sense than what we saw.

1. Jinx becomes an extremely controversial figure.

Few are neutral to her. This would be largely because, outside of knowing she blew up the council, no one actually knows WHY. What were her motives? Were they politically charged? Was she trying to start a war? What exactly was her goal? It was never really stated that she was infamous prior to this, but I recall in season 1 act 2 that when Vi went looking for her, people knew OF Jinx, and that she worked for Silco, but weren't really aware of any further details. So those that are aware of her connection to Silco- who objectively did make many of their lives worse with Shimmer- wouldn't be happy. They'd be scared of what will come next.

Those who don't know/don't care might fill in the blanks with their own guesses, maybe that she's some kind of activist- which would split them further into the subgroups of "Oh fuck the enforcers are gonna kill us and it's her fault" and "Finally, a war!" The second of which I'd argue would actually be a very small group. I could imagine the Jinxers being seen by the rest of Zaun as crazy radicals who don't know what they're getting themselves into/are gonna drag the rest of Zaun into danger. I think it would cause a LOT of infighting. Like a civil war inside another civil war.

How Jinx would handle this would be.... interesting. Especially if the Jinxers start making moves on their own. She never really shows much interest in activism- she works for Silco because he's her new dad, and while she doesn't seem to DISAGREE with his opinions, it doesn't seem she's all that invested in actually working to make it happen beyond just wanting to help her dad. His death seemed to take her interest with it.

Now, they could either lean into this, and make people question her motives/actions because of her clear disinterest, maybe increasing some of the controversy around her (no follow through on her action, letting Zaunites suffer the consequences, etc.), or they could make her actually take a genuine personal interest in it. But that, I think, would take a bigger arc that might be more work for arguably less payoff when considering you'd probably have to change a great deal of her character to do it, especially when you could probably achieve similar plot points/outcomes even without her intentionally becoming a political figurehead.

2. Zaun becomes fractured politically/other "symbols" of Zaun

This can be in tandem with idea 1, actually, but can still be it's own idea. Basically, after the fall of the council, and Silco's death, Zaunites are terrified. They've been run so far by Vander, Silco, and then some vague council-like oligarchy of Chem-Barons, who could be interpreted as functioning like very large gangs. The Chem-Barons have always been around, but with Silco's sudden death (and no one who was primed/expecting to replace him), this leaves a massive power vacuum that the Chem-Barons and smaller gangs are scrambling to come out on top of.

The fear of the unknown and the extreme instability would lead to people desperately throwing their lot in with whoever they think would be a better/less dangerous leader, and by extension, political symbol. Season 2 shows a bunch of new people joining the Firelights. In that case, I can imagine that before long, several new potential leaders surface, even if they didn't expect it. Namely, Ekko, Jinx, and Sevika.

Ekko because as I said, people were apparently coming to his base in droves. They don't tell us Jack shit about the Firelights besides the fact that A) Ekko leads them B) they don't fuck with Silco OR Piltover C) Piltover thinks they're terrorists and D) they look rad as fuck. That being said, considering Ekko's Everything, I think we can all gather a general picture of what the Firelights are about. Plus his cool tree would be a great symbol (@srslylini for the idea) of growth, healing, etc.

Sevika, because those that knew her as Silco's second might be hoping for some kind of stability with her. Even if they didn't like Silco, it's better the enemy you know and all that jazz. They'd feel safer with someone who at least seems to know what they're doing, even if Sevika herself has no interest in becoming a leader. I think some would just naturally gravitate towards who they see as "second in line". This could also be in connection to Jinx, as she could possibly been seen as someone who could "rein" Jinx in (again, most people don't actually KNOW Jinx, they just know OF her and that she worked for Silco and was volatile. Think how Finn referred to her as Silco's "attack dog").

Speaking of Jinx, she'd probably be treated similarly to idea 1. Extremely polarizing. Her followers would be seen as crazy, like she is. They'd be seen as warmongers and/or people who have no idea what they're getting themselves into. They'd basically be seen as the stereotypical "young rebels". The average Zaunite would see the average Jinxer as a young, angry, maybe idealistic radical who doesn't understand the cost of war. I'd argue that, again, they'd probably be the smallest and most controversial group just because most people don't necessarily WANT a war, even if they're willing to fight for it. And the suddenness of the bombing would've scared even some of the rebels who DO want war, because they weren't prepared. It wasn't a PLANNED attack, so both Zaun AND Piltover are basically caught with their pants down, which would also bring some ire from the other Zaunites.

There's another option for a faction I'd like to explore, also thanks to srslylini (thank you icon), but it takes a bit of setting up.

In a hypothetical situation in which Vi did NOT become an enforcer, I think it would happen like this: Vi hangs around in Piltover at first out of guilt/feeling like she has nowhere else to go. She's still not on board with being an enforcer, but she attends the memorial out of a sense of obligation. Her and Caitlyn have a falling out over Caitlyn calling Zaunites "animals", and here is where she storms off and goes back to Zaun, with the final words to Caitlyn that "You Pilties are all the fucking same" (or something to that effect). She's still feeling lost, and so maybe this is where she stumbles around, having maybe a similar pitfighting arc (just not as distraught, more like she's broke and angry and has to pay rent somehow so she might as well get paid to punch someone's face in). Because she's not in a massive spiral, there's unfortunately no emo arc (sad), but the bright side of this is that she's recognizable. I don't think she's FAMOUS, per say, but Babette and Ekko recognized her right off the bat in season 1 (yes you can say Ekko was really close to her, but Babette? C'mon), and considering she was older than Powder when she went off to prison, I don't think it's a stretch to assume her face was a little better-known than her sister's (especially considering she was already going on jobs, and in act 1 she gets into a fight with Deckard who I'm pretty sure knew her name, but not Powder's).

This is to say, I think a lot of the "old heads" knew who she was, especially those who liked Vander. It helps that she tattooed her name on her face LMAO. So I'd imagine she'd show up in the ring, no hair dye no makeup, and eventually after consistently knocking her opponents around and winning every time, she'd become a bit locally famous again- to the point that those same "old heads" who remember her make the connection and come looking. Maybe rumors start swirling, especially once they learn she was gone because she'd been in prison- not unheard of, and probably the first conclusion they drew when they realized she wasn't dead.

So eventually Vander's old followers/younger people who idolized him from their childhood start seeking her out. Sensationalizing her. Asking her what she's planning on doing. Is she taking back the Lanes? Will she get those Chem-Barons under control? What about Jinx? Could she hunt her down, rein her in? Hell, maybe even put her to use? Will you give us our relative safety, our security back?

And Vi, who just wanted to knock some heads around and maybe take a nap in her apartment and cry, is suddenly faced with being "Vander 2.0" and Jinx is the new "Silco 2.0" and all the weight of expectations and legacy and history and literal war and politics are being shoved in her face. She, like Jinx, is now faced with becoming a figurehead when she never wanted to be, which could lead into option 3:

3. A joint approach to Zaun

This would primarily be driven by Sevika even if she wasn't one of the possible leaders, because SOMEONE has to be the responsible adult here and it's certainly not any of these traumatized losers (affectionate). She'd be the glue to keep it all together, the reluctant team mom who WILL make this work because she WILL have Zaun even if she has to die to get it.

This could work with either Jinx and Vi, or Jinx, Vi, and Ekko (I genuinely can't imagine season 2 act 1 Ekko willingly teaming up with season 2 act 1 Jinx AND Sevika without some kind of buffer). Basically, once the other "leader candidates"/political symbols have been established, Sevika would round them up with the intention to use their influence to unite Zaun against Piltover. This would take a LOT of arguing, but ultimately I think she'd be able to get them to shut up and hear her out for a moment. Regardless of how different their beliefs are about what the "ideal Zaun" looks like, they can all agree that Piltover isn't in any of those pictures. She could convince them to set aside their own squabbling for the time being, for the greater good: aka, the independence of Zaun.

At the very least, I think she'd be able to get them to agree that Piltover coming down and hurting Zaunites in revenge shouldn't be ignored, and that they're currently a bigger threat than their fellow Zaunite. So eventually they'd reach some kind of truce: behave like a united front against Piltover, push them out of Zaun, stabilize Zaun, and then worry about tearing each other apart later. And because all of these characters- ALL of them- have shown (prior to season 2) anti-Piltover sentiments, they'd at least be able to agree that enforcers shouldn't be allowed to beat down on their people (especially in this version where Vi has better, more consistent writing lmao).

Of course, Rome wasn't built in a day, so maybe they don't reach a total agreement immediately- maybe they just agree to a ceasefire at first, but still refuse to work together. But once Caitlyn becomes a dictator? Once enforcers start gassing the streets, rounding people up, implementing martial law?

That's when the gloves would come off.

I'd imagine this could also be part of how Vi and Jinx slowly start to repair their relationship. They've got bigger fish to fry, but also, this time their enemy is connected to their own personal conflict with each other. Jinx might ask, "what happened to your enforcer girl? What happened to being a Piltie lapdog?" And Vi would essentially, in perhaps more emotionally constipated words, explain that it wasn't really about Caitlyn, it was about being needed. It was about trying to find Jinx, about trying to stop Silco, about trying to "fix" things, only realize that she couldn't. It was about trying to make things better, but that she realized the person she was trying to do that with didn't actually care. That all she wanted was to make sense of the destruction of her old life, and find meaning in a new one. And I think Jinx, too, in her own emotional constipation, would resonate with that, would understand that. It wouldn't fix things between them, but I think it'd be a start.

It could also help their relationship with Ekko. Since Vi isn't an enforcer this time, and season 1 (the One True Season) showed their sibling relationship, I think her and Ekko's bonding would be more like "reconnecting with an old friend", whereas Jinx and Ekko would have a lot of work to do, too. There'd probably be a bit of a cold war between them for a while, once Ekko agrees to help, because he knows actually talking to her would piss him off. But eventually, through Sevika's manhandling of these three, and being forced to make nice with reluctant-figurehead-Jinx, they'd connect again.

Perhaps part of a plan is for them to develop new technology for Zaun. Whether that's weapons against Piltover (unlikely on Ekko's part I think), or just safety gear/ safer city infrastructure ideas for the betterment of their people, I think eventually they'd figure themselves out, too. He'd see the Powder in her, the part he saw on that bridge, and maybe it would give him the ability to try and understand Jinx. And Jinx would realize that maybe these people in her life DO love her, DO care about her, more than just for what she used to be but for who she is now. And somewhere along the way, they'd be friends again (or they can date IDK or care man I just want them to stop trying to kill each other).

Whatever happens next is so wide in possibility that I can't possibly cover it here so this is where it ends, lol.

[skaldish]

Alright folks. Here it is, my theory of what Ragnarok actually represents. It is very messy and I'm not sure I'm going to be able to actually convey my understanding clearly like I try with most things, because genuinely this is shit I would write a doctorate-level thesis on.

But we're going to try anyway.

So. After doing a lot to try to replicate animistic thinking, as well as taking a VERY deep read of the Norse myths, my theory is that Ragnarok is specifically allegory for societal collapse—the "end of the world" imagery and such is meant to convey what this feels like.

Recall what Odin says in Grimnismal. It goes something like this, since I can't be arsed to find the exact quote:

Huginn and Muninn fly over the world every day; while I fear Huginn ("thought") may not return, I fear Muninn's ("memory's") absence most.

When a society collapses, so does it's memory. It loses its technology, its methodologies, its paradigms, and everything it has learned about the world up to that point. Gone. Entire chapters of history erased.

What causes societal collapse is not always a conquering force, but is oftentimes the result of circumstances that a society orchestrates for itself. Think Rome.

People who have gone through societal collapse will probably develop an invested interest in figuring out how to prevent it entirely, so they don't have to start society all over again.

It's one thing to preserve the memory of "things collapsed and here's why" using a story. But it's another thing to do what apparently the Norse people did, which is cultivate a methodology for cognitively hardening their own society against collapse, using stories as a way to do it.

Like...I'm not kidding when I say they legitimately knew how the human mind works, and then built an entire system of stories and narratives that intentionally support the mind's freedom, cultivation, and agency. I can only convey a fraction of how this works in this post because the rest requires a deep-dive into behavioral psychology and neurological development.

All the tales leading to Ragnarok demonstrate various instances where the gods choose to follow their own agendas at the expense of the real people and forces in the world. All of these little things contribute to the magnitude of the event that is Ragnarok.

The tales represent these transgressions using allegories rather than literal events. This is because these stories were designed for children, who don't process information through a prefrontal cortex like we do as adults. They don't have them yet. But this gives kids an intuitive understanding for how circumstances of collapse feel, so they can recognize them in all their forms.

Loki is an allegory for the mischief we feel as children, and for the behaviors we demonstrate before we get to the age where we start valuing cooperation. In the myths, every time Loki causes mischief in ways that creates problems, the gods get mad at him and threaten Loki's life until he fixes his mess. Loki eventually becomes vindictive, kills Baldr in a jealous fit, and then is punished by being bound and buried beneath the ground, only to fight against the gods in Ragnarok.

The surface-level takeaway is a lesson in parenting: If we punish kids for their mischief, they're going to become vindictive adults, and these adults are going to have it out for the rest of society because they've been disenfranchised.

But it doesn't just end here. Consider how we punish ourselves for our own sense of mischief, beating ourselves up for having "problematic" thoughts and trying to bind and bury those thoughts in the depths of our mind.

These thoughts come from a place our mind known as the limbic system, which is focused on avoiding pain and seeking pleasure, and—most importantly—does not understand the world or make decisions using logic and reason, but in terms of what feels enjoyable and what doesn't.

We tend to call this system our inner child.

When we punish our inner child, that child starts doing exactly what Loki does and resorts to malicious and petty tricks. We can hold this behavior at bay until something causes us to "snap" (like Jörmungandr's tail does) and out comes the malice of the disenfranchised inner child, which creates a terrible cascade of social consequences for us.

Now, if we were to listen to these stories as kids, we would naturally be very upset whenever Loki was threatened of punished, because we think out of the limbic system at that age and Loki is meant to represent us—specifically, the state of being a kid. We would see what comes to pass, with Loki being imprisoned and fighting the gods against Ragnarok, and it would become clear to us that there's consequences for punishing mischief AND also causing too much of it.

Now I don't know about you, but I was very motivated by a sense of justice as a kid. Hearing Loki's arc would have inspired me to learn how to be friends with my sense of mischief while also learning to use it in ways that were cooperative and social, because this would have been how I could right the wrong I felt was done to Loki. It would also mean my own limbic system will not fight against me in the future, but be a modality of thought I can always access. (This is the beauty of the way the Norse myths are crafted; they are designed to instill knowledge of the world using mechanisms that reinforce one's own sense of agency and competency, so rather than being told the moral of this tale, it sets me up to run right into the conclusion it wants me to draw, but in a way that makes me feel smart and therefore inspires me to value it.)

The binding of Fenrir serves a similar allegory. When we become explosively angry in the way that Fenrir represents, it consumes our wisemind the same way Fenrir consumes Odin during Ragnarok. But this only happens if we bind Fenrir/our anger. By demonizing this nature of ours simply for existing, it will not only refuse to listen to us, but also turn against us. Remember that Fenrir was willing to socialize and cooperate with the gods before his betrayal.

(Honestly, I believe this is why ulfheiðnar existed the way they did. Even though the animalistic rage of ulfheiðnar was too terrible for domestic society, it was not demonized, but instead given a social function. People would learn to understand and partner with their own sense of rage, and I'm guessing this is also how they were able to keep their sense of reason and priorities straight even while going berserk from psychoactives.)

These two examples serve to illustrate how societal collapse stems from binding or punishing our own natures. But also fearing our own nature as mortals factors into it.

For example, Naglfar. This is a ship constructed of dead people's fingernails, and its completion is part of what signals the beginning of Ragnarok. But as the story goes, we can delay Naglfar's construction by trimming the nails of the dead before we bury them.

Naglfar represents "neglect for the dead," and this is significant because the act of no longer viewing the dead as people is sort of like the canary in the coal mine for no longer view each other as people...and no longer seeing people as people is what defines Ragnarok.

A society is at peace when its people have no fear of death, and having no fear of death comes only by incorporating death as a normal and familiar part of life, just like we do with birth. Our relationship with death is a litmus test for our relationship with our own humanity—if we fear the dead and cannot see them as human beings, then we are always going to fear a part of our own humanity, and be at war with it. The simple act of keeping the nails of the dead well-groomed because it stalls Naglfar's construction was a way to remind people why such a simple act was profoundly important.

And these are just the things that I can think of off the top of my head that are the most obvious examples. There are—and I shit you not—multitudes of these things laced within the Norse myths.

(I haven't even gotten to the part about how the Norse creation myth uses what the womb feels like to characterize it. Telling this story to very little children helps them establish a sense of familiarity, belonging, and secure attachment with the entire world from the get-go. If they learn the world is everything they've already experienced, then their bodies will never be afraid of it, because nothing about it will feel unknown or unknowable. Like, how fucking dope can you get.)

So here's where we get to the really dense irony of all this: Why we don't pick up on all these nuances as Westerners and have so far missed this entirely.

It is for two reasons.

The first is because our society values the things that the Norse people identified as contributing to societal collapse—namely, the act of conquering/competing against other forces and conquering/competing against our own natures. The transgressions of the Aesir are not things we register as problematic because to us they're normal.

The second is that we don't think animistically. The way we are taught to convey, interpret, and transmit information is designed PURELY by and for the prefrontal cortex, with neglect to everything else (if you ever wonder why Americans look weird in how we behave, this is why). But because we only prioritize communicating this way, we're missing out on all the context added within the Norse myths. These myths function the same way Old Norse kennings did, in that they are designed to speak to ALL areas of the brain at once and in tandem, but if we only engage with it using one part of the brain, we're only going to get a small piece of the picture and the rest is going to look weird.

(Little experiment for you: Try to logic something out in your mind or think through a complex problem without using words or sentences to do it. Use any other kind of thought-process besides language. I promise you that not only is this possible, but it yields a completely different kind of experience and conclusion than you might otherwise reach.)

Honestly, I don't even think Snorri himself fully understood what he was looking at when he was recording the Norse myths. I think he was just writing them down according to how they were told, word-for-word. But his cluelessness is our good fortune now, because he not only preserved the cultural stories, but also what I consider an entire cognitive technology.

And every time I look at it, I can't help but think about the generations of people who sat around the fire in the dead of winter, weaving, crafting, and figuring out better ways to fortify their society, raise kids so they became fine and truly fearless people, and conserve information. This is, as far as I'm concerned, real magic.

They knew some shit.

[sanguineterrain]

"they're giving me a few minutes to try and talk some sense into you." With Jason? As either the speaker or the one being spoken to? 🙏

This one was a thinker to come up with an idea for but it was fun to write!!

jason todd x gn!reader. reader is a civilian turned rogue from experimentation and is jason's ex. reader has poison ivy-esque abilities. tw violence, threats, angry reader who tries to hurt jason. happy ending.

****

You've lost count of the days. You're not even sure where they're keeping you. It's a cell, but it's not in an asylum. It's not in a prison either.

Wherever it is, it makes your teeth itch. You haven't seen another human since you got caught. Once, someone tried to leave you food through a slot in the door, but you messed that up by grabbing their hand and trying to claw them.

So now the food trays get dropped from the ceiling. You're too weak to attempt any crawling ivy up there.

You're sitting against the wall dozing when the door slides open with a quiet chirp.

Jason Todd walks in, dressed like a civilian. He looks comfortable in his Gotham U sweatshirt and jeans, but you know better. You see the small blade in his pocket and the way he sets his shoulders. You knew him too well and for too long to think that this is a regular visit.

Still, you're shocked to see him. After all, he broke up with you.

"Well, this is special," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your words. "Am I finally being interrogated?"

Jason looks at you mildly. "They let me have a few minutes to talk some sense into you."

You scoff. "They sent you to do that?"

He's quiet for a moment. Then he walks over and sits across from you, on the floor. He crosses his legs.

You can touch him from this distance. Hurt him.

"I can help," Jason says. "If you'd let me."

"Is that Batman I hear coming out of your mouth?"

That renders him silent. You take the chance to speak, drive the knife into his gut.

"So I wasn't enough to stay for before, but as soon as I cause a little trouble, get experimented on and become a real threat, you come running? Was my old self too boring for you?"

"You didn't bore me. You know that's not why we broke up."

"I don't know, actually," you snap. "You dropped off the face of the earth one day and now you're here."

Jason shakes his head. "I know. I'm sorry. I should've—you deserved better than me. I thought I was doing you a favor by leaving."

"Oh, God, you're a cliche!" You throw your head back and laugh, the sound hollow. "Don't give me that martyr bullshit. We were happy. You were a coward."

"I was," he says. "I was cowardly and selfish and stupid."

Your eye twitches. Jason's softness rankles you. What happened to the Red Hood who beats rogues into submission? Talking sense wouldn't mean an actual conversation.

Then again, Jason probably doesn't take you seriously. He only remembers you as the harmless civilian that would tend to his bruises and make him eggs in the morning. He didn't see you break out of a lab or destroy everything in your path until Batman restrained you.

He thinks you're good. Gentle. Easy to love. You'll prove him wrong.

"I could've killed if I wanted to," you say. "Did you see what I did to Dick? I did a lot of damage."

"I saw," Jason says, leaning back on his hands.

You grit your teeth. "Well, I'm sure he'd prefer me locked up. Bruce, too. And you. Two problems solved in one."

"No one wants to lock you up. Anyway, I wouldn't let 'em. I know how to recognize someone in need of a second chance."

That pushes you over the edge, referring to you like you're just a common thief on the street in need of mercy. You don't need anyone's mercy, least of all his.

You lash out, savagely bracing your arm and aiming for Jason's throat. He feints your attack and catches you both, landing on his back on the floor. You just as quickly wrap your other hand around his throat.

Your powers are weak in this cell after they injected you with something that burned, made the hatred inside of you shrivel up for a brief respite. In this weakened state, you have to make skin contact to inflict any real damage, and Jason knows that. Jason's beyond smart enough to figure out how your abilities work.

You manage to push out a single vine from your hand. It's a little brown, a little dead, but it's strong enough to curl around Jason's neck and hold on.

You hear noise outside, a muffled shout of alarm. Jason raises a hand calmly, signalling them to back off. You feel him swallow against your vine.

"'S okay," he says, loud enough to carry outside of the cell, steadily looking at you. "We're just talkin'."

"Is that what we're doing, Jason?" you ask, rage tunneling your vision.

"Sure it is. If I say we're talking, then we are."

"Even if I hurt you?" you snarl. "I'm a criminal. I went crazy. That's why they put me here."

Slowly, Jason rests a hand on the middle of your spine. It's warm and solid. Your stomach jumps at the feeling. It's been so long since he's touched you. It used to be your normal, Jason touching you, holding you, sharing your bed.

"You're not a criminal and you're not crazy," he says softly. "You're in pain, and you're angry, and this feels like your last resort."

Something cracks in your chest. The day you said those words to Jason rushes back to you. It had been raining and you'd found him on your fire escape, helmet off, eyes thick with tears. He hadn't been able to go through with his plan for Bruce.

"Why don't you use the knife in your pocket?" you ask. He could sever your vine at the root. It would sting and make you cry. He could make you weak.

"'Cause I don't wanna hurt you," Jason says. "If this is what you need to feel in control, so be it."

Your grip tightens. Jason grunts and rubs his hand up and down your spine. His other hand goes to your hip and squeezes.

"I can hurt you," you say, trying to believe it.

Jason nods. "That's okay, baby. It'll heal."

Tears spring to your eyes and you close them. "Don't call me that. You left me."

"I'm sorry. It's the worst mistake I ever made."

More tears pool. Your voice shakes. "They did awful experiments. They—I'm not normal anymore. An' I'm so angry."

"I know, sweetheart," he murmurs. "I know. 'M so fuckin' sorry. I'll kill 'em. When I find 'em, I'll hunt down every single one that did this to you."

"You just came back because I'm a case to solve," you say. Your vine is slipping. You want Jason to hold you instead.

"I came back because I missed you and because I wanna help you. It was a mistake to leave."

"What if this is how I am? Permanently?" you whisper. It's been in your head since you were lucid enough to realize what they did to you in that lab. What your attackers called a blessing feels more like a curse. And it might not ever go away.

"Then we'll go on from there," Jason says. His hand goes from your hip to your face. He strokes your cheek.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Your vine thins out and slackens completely. Tiny, red flowers bloom as Jason pets you. You quickly retract the vine, hot with embarrassment.

Jason graciously doesn't say anything about it.

"I wanna go home," you confess.

Jason nods. "I got you. Let's go home."

[heck-theo]

Okokokokok- ignore how rough and messy some of these redraws/sketches are - but it's apparently also dinosaur month?? (WHY did no one ever tell me it's Jurassic June? I love dinosaurs) And like. What if Rise but dinosaurs?!

I don't often post such loose sketches but I wanted to show these off cause I really like some of this.

Design choices and dino species + the reasons I picked them bellow (looking for potential Donnie dino suggestions):

Clothes: Without the shell they really need clothes. They'd all have pretty much the same pants to keep some unity, except maybe Mikey (I decided they should all have the same pants after I finished the Mikey sketches, not sure if I'll keep the shorts or change to pants). Accessories are a mix of pre and post finale.

Raph - I think would keep it simple and practical but would also wear nice jackets and stuff when in casual situations. I need to work on giving him an alternative outfit and tweak his accessories a bit.

Donnie - An oversized pull-over hoodie cause we already know he loves that shit. We see him wearing it all the time. Easy enough. He wears a comfortable singlet underneath so the straps of his battle sail don't rub. Nice soft fabric, tight fit so it doesn't move around, tucks it into his pants, etc. When he wears the battle sail he won't overheat so he can wear hoodies basically all year round.

Leo - He's in one of those shirts with obnoxiously large arm holes and make it cropped cause 1. I think he would 2. I want it to be different from Raph and Donnie's singlets. He usually wears the shoulder strap off his shoulder but pulls it up when he needs to. He has some of the black bandages over his mid drift atm but I might just make his pants super high waisted in the final version. He'd probably wear a bomber jacket (also cropped?) over the top for cool weather, but doesn't like to hide his feathers.

Mikey - I think he'd mostly wear hand me downs when he's younger. He definitely goes through a stage of rebelling and wanting to pick his own and would find a middle ground of appreciating sharing some of his brother's clothes and modifying them, as long as he has the choice of his own available. Not sure if that would be before or after this design. At the moment he's got Raph's old shorts (from a loooong time ago), Leo's old shirt, and Donnie's old zip up hoodie. He does have his own accessories though, including pins instead of stickers.

Dinosaurs: I kept them all as non-avian dinosaurs, AKA not including animals that are colloquially considered dinos but aren't (like pterosaurs). I wanted to keep an even split of herbivore vs carnivore just so one wasn't the odd one out. I wanted to keep most of their body structure, colours and distinguishing features the same as canon. Obviously I added tails cause, yeah, of course haha. I did want them to be recognisable as different species of dino using distinct characteristics that their species is known for. I did ignore a lot of differences though, like size and bipedal vs quadruped (although the quadrupeds might be more likely to go to all fours, especially when fighting or afraid). Leo and Donnie are carnivores so have sharper teeth and claws.

Raph - Some kind of Ceratopsian (likely Triceratops or something very similar) and he was the first idea I had for this and I'm really happy with it. I think it just suits him. Trike Raph just came to me in an unprecedented moment of genius. His spikey frill replicates his spikey shell. His sturdiness, protectiveness and willingness to kick ass when needed, all scream trike to me.

Donnie - Spinosaurus but looking for other species recommendations. More details below: So I wanted to figure out a way for him to have tech with a similar function to his battle shell (in the sense that it's something that helped him in day to day life) and so I went with spino cause one possible theory about a function of spinosaurus' sail is temperature regulation. So his battle sail has heating/cooling systems as well as other tech. A spino's sail was probably not fragile but the battle sail would also help protect it from being targeted during fights or crushed during extreme impacts. It was also thought to be used for display, and what's more of a display than a battle sail? The only problem I have with this is that it's lacking part of what makes Donnie's battle shell so great, which is that it is essentially a prosthetic. Not quite the same as how prosthetics are used in people of course, just in the sense that it is replicating the functionality of a body part that he doesn't have (I can't think of a better word). Well he does have a shell but it doesn't function in the same way that his brothers shells do, which leaves him with less defense than they have, hence a big reason for the battle shell (I hope I explained this well, it was hard to try and word properly). I can't think of a good way to do this with dinos. I was thinking of a carno or something with tiny arms, then Donnie could have tech enhanced arms but I'm pretty much ignoring body structure in the others so it would be weird to have just Donnie be affected by a difference in limb structure/functionality. I was thinking prosthetic tail but every non avian dinosaur had a pretty substantial tail. Except therizinosaurus but even they hade pretty obvious tails. I'm open to suggestions for this one if anyone has ideas. It does have to be an extinct non-avian dinosaur (anything not in Avialae), preferably carnivore but if someone suggests a really good herbivore or omnivore then I can try and swap Mikey for a carnivore. I want there to be an even split. I also wanted to give him something different on his face, like his brothers, and that could only be a little spino crest and it crowds the top of his head but I can't put it anywhere else...

Leo - A type of Dromaeosaur. I was tossing up between this and a dilophosaur where his red stripes were part of the dilo's crest, cause I wasn't sure about giving him feathers. But dilo Leo was so plain compared to the rest and the crests were hard to get looking right so I went back to raptor Leo. I can definitely imagine him literally and metaphorically preening his feathers too. You can't really see it but he does also have that big raptor claw. Raptors were smart, tactical and worked in packs so I think that suits him. I wasn't specifically referencing how some artists draw Leo's stripes coming off his face (I was just trying to replicate his stripes somehow, even though it doesn't make a huge amount of sense) but I realised afterwards that it kinda looks like that and might have been subconsciously inspired by it.

Mikey - Is an Ankylosaur. I'm pretty happy with the species but I need to work out the design of his armour plating so that it looks interesting, cool and protective but isn't too chunky, too pointy or super lumpy looking. I went with an anky cause Mikey is often hiding in his shell and he can't do the same here but he could curl up in a defensive ball. Plus I could imagine him using his tail club in his razzmatazz fighting style. A little like his kusari-fundo or nunchacku/nunchucks (not sure on proper wording).

[splonk-fox]

The Chosen One's actions in Animator vs. Animation 11: A Mini Analysis

Recently, with the release of the latest Animator vs. Animation episode, I have seen many people begin to view Chosen's character in a more negative light. Now I can't lie and say that this episode doesn't exactly do him any favors, however I think people need to hold their horses a bit when it comes to assuming how he actually feels about the Newgrounds rampage.

First off, the big one, Mitsi's death. Chosen is framed to have been the one who killed her, and it's clear that Agent, and the narrative, believe it was him who did it. But if there's anything I've learned about red herrings, it's the fact that what seems like the obvious answer might not be so obvious after all. We don't actually know if Chosen was the one who killed her, all we see is a a flurry of fireballs raining from the sky, one of which hits Mitsi and completely incinerates her, then we see Chosen flying down from above. Considering that Dark is also shown to have flown in from above, it could've just as easily been him who killed her.

As a matter of fact, Dark would probably make more sense seeing as his most common form of attack is fireballs. Regardless of who did it or not, I do think it's important to remember that Chosen isn't the only culprit and that we shouldn't immediately assume it was him.

But let's say, for a moment, that Chosen was the one who did it, I still don't think that frames him in as negative of a light as the fandom portrays.

For starters I should say that we don't know how Chosen feels about what he has just done, at least not in this episode. However we see the exact same Newgrounds rampage from his perspective in Season 2, and there it's pretty clear that this is the point where he starts having second thoughts, and his body language in this episode actually reflects this.

When we first see him, Chosen is just sort of... calmly descending upon the destruction, there's no indication of what emotions he is feeling at this moment, but I honestly don't look at this and see "yeah, he definitely enjoys this"

His movements are slow and non-aggressive, there's no real energy in his actions, no sign of pride or enjoyment, he just sort of flies over the the Newgrounds tank and lands on top of it. To me this doesn't come off as someone who is enjoying this, this is coming off as someone who is taking in all the destruction around him and simply trying to process it. It's not positive, nor is it negative.

But I think the most telling thing about it is how his body language contrasts Dark, take a look at this shot. Notice anything?

For one, Dark is centered while Chosen is the one standing off to the side, portraying him as almost a secondary threat, a person standing alongside his much worse partner.

Moreso than this however, look at their poses. Dark has his hands on his hips, clearly taking pride in his much destruction he and Chosen have caused. Chosen by comparison is just sort of... standing there, there is no clear show of pride in his posture, as a matter of fact, this shot here almost reminds me of this one.

In both cases, Chosen is seen off to the side, staring down at the destruction while not showing any real emotion, and in this case, it was clearly trying to communicate that Chosen was not enjoying this as much as Dark was.

He's even seen seemingly pleading with Dark to stop what he is doing, and you wanna know something really interesting about this shot?

Chosen and Dark are both shown on top of a tank, just like we saw in AvA 11. I'm not saying this is the same scene, but I am saying that the parallels here are likely not meant to be a coincidence. In both cases Dark is clearly taking pride in the destruction, Chosen meanwhile looks a lot more unsure.

Now for the high-five scene. People have already pointed this out but Chosen almost seems to hesitate before giving Dark a high-five, as if he's unsure about it.

Another detail I also wanted to bring attention to is how Dark initiates the high-five. It may seem small at first until you remember that this isn't the first time we have seen such a gesture between the two characters.

We all see this happen in The Flashback, and ya wanna know the interesting thing? Chosen was the one who initiated it. Keep in mind that the context of this seen was that Chosen finally escaped Alan's abuse and was clearly happy about it. It should also be worth noting that unlike Chosen, who took a few seconds to reciprocate the high-five in AvA 11, Dark does it almost instantly.

This is all to say, while this episode does not portray Chosen in the most favorable light, I don't think this is as simple as "he killed Mitsi and enjoyed it".

I want to make it clear that I do not think Chosen is innocent in this scenario, whether he enjoyed it or not, he still actively took part in this rampage, all I'm saying is that we don't really know Chosen's feelings during this moment or if he was even the one who killed Mitsi in the first place, and with how he was previously portrayed during this exact same rampage, I have more reason to believe that he didn't actually enjoy this at all. So before you raise your pitchforks and call Chosen the worst person ever, consider that maybe, there is more nuance to this story than first meets the eye.