#yes i know they un-canonized him being her father

[totaltrauma]

Like father, like daughter.

[eco-lite]

Finally making more progress on the pile of ST books I own but have yet to read. Here’s some good stuff from The Vulcan Academy Murders by Jean Lorrah.

[Image ID: The cover of the book The Vulcan Academy Murders. The background has lots of dark purple tones. In the foreground, Spock stands with a phaser pointed at a Vulcan creature with green skin, a cat-like face, a fin down its back, sharp claws, and a long tail. The creature is hissing down at Spock from a rock. End ID]

First of all, what is going on with this cover? Nothing like this happens in the book.

[Text ID: “Kirk recalled that all male Vulcans were married—had to be—and glanced at Spock. His First Officer, however, was very busy inspecting the almost un-touched wine in his glass.” End ID]

Interesting interesting. 👀

[Text ID: “Kirk had been given Spock’s room (underlined red by me) and McCoy the guest room in Sarek’s house—a house far from anything Kirk would ever have imagined as the home Spock had grown up in. He had envisioned either a sterile, unadorned ‘environment,’ or a castlelike ancestral residence. Instead, the house on the outskirts of ShiKahr was a simple single-family dwelling.” End ID]

This book is way too casual about Kirk sleeping in Spock’s childhood bedroom. Also, there’s no mention of where Spock is sleeping while they’re there???

[Text ID: “He remembered forcing Spock to control his emotions when he was five, and his schoolfellows taunted him for being ‘different.’ Under his father’s tutelage, Spock had refused to cry when the others shut him out of their games, calling him ‘Earther’ and ‘half-breed.’ Amanda had hidden her tears from their son, and Sarek had hidden his anger. Or had he? Perhaps I directed it at my son instead, he realized. He had intended to prepare Spock for whatever lack of acceptance he would face in life. And the message Spock received was that his own father did not accept him as he was, had to mold him into something he deemed acceptable.” End ID]

We love reflecting on our past mistakes. 👏🏼 We love character growth. 👏🏼

[Text ID: “’A computer cannot lie,’ said Spock. ‘Nevertheless, this one is giving false information.’ ‘Why don’t you try playing chess with it?’ came a voice from the doorway. Sarek turned to find Leonard McCoy, bouncing on his toes and grinning.” End ID]

I love them. I can picture this so perfectly.

[Text ID: “’What dost thou know of Surak?’ she asked finally—but her voice spoke more of perplexity than challenge. ‘What everyone knows: he was the founder of Vulcan philosophy. I know he is a personal hero to my friend Spock, the way Abraham Lincoln, from human history, is to me.’” End ID]

Kirk will bring up Abe Lincoln whenever he has a chance. That’s canon now.

[Text ID: “’You are not only anything, Spock. You are more, not less, because of your dual heritage. It is fruitless to wish now that I had made that clearer to you when you were a child.’ ‘You wanted me to be Vulcan.’ ‘That is true,’ Sarek agreed. ‘And you are Vulcan, representative of IDIC in its fullest sense.’ Spock studied his father. ‘You never put it to me that way. The last time you and I spoke as father and son, before I went to Starfleet Academy, you reminded me of how important it was that I think of myself as Vulcan. Do you remember your words, father?’ Sarek remembered. ‘I am Vulcan by birth. Your mother is Vulcan by choice. You are Vulcan by both birth and choice.’ ‘And then I disappointed you by making a different choice.’ Sarek searched his memory, trying to recover the logical reason for what now seemed completely irrational. Finally, he said simply, ‘I was wrong.’” End ID]

Yes! Let’s talk about our feelings! Let’s resolve those daddy issues!

[Text ID: “He went back to his room—Spock’s room, really. Kirk had brought with him a sturdy suit and boots, for Spock had suggested they might go camping in the mountains after the summer heat abated. (Last sentence underlined in red by me.) He put on the boots and the trousers to the suit, but decided the heavy shirt would be far too hot—" End ID]

Spock wanted to take them camping. 🥹

[Text ID: “‘He will recover, though?’ asked Spock. ‘Yeah—you can see him later, Spock,’ said the doctor. ‘He’s gonna be in considerable pain—you’re probably the only person he’ll be able to stand. Your son would’ve made a good doctor,’ he added to Sarek. ‘I don’t know how he does it, but he’s really good with people in pain.’ Spock’s eyebrows shot up at the unexpected compliment from the man Sarek usually saw him trade barbs with. Then Leonard left them to go back to his patient, and Spock turned to Sarek. ‘May I ask you something, Father?’ ‘What is it, Spock?’ ‘When Mother became conscious, you called her…?’ ‘Beloved.’” End ID]

Spock being very concerned about Kirk’s injuries. Bones saying Spock is the only person Kirk would tolerate while in pain. Spock asking his father about expressing love for an outworlder. It’s a lot.

[sleepyfan-blog]

On one hand, the reader having to carry whatever Typhus put inside her is a horrifying concept. But on the other hand I am a little bit curious if this whole thing will lead to her having his kids (since I’m pretty sure that’s what’s being implied in the fic). Because while there’s definitely the possibility of the reader’s child being some kind of horrible warp daemon in the guise of a newborn. There’s also the possibility of the opposite happening, the reader is a perpetual, which is something that can canonically be passed on from parent to child. So imagine a rotting, decaying, plague ridden Typhus hanging out with his kid, who is just completely normal. No diseases no infections no nothing, a perfectly healthy child who is unfazed by all the nurgle horror going on around them

These are some fun hypotheticals, anon! While perpetual!RT!Reader is carrying Something Else in the fic, Typhus would be... So Normal about his wife bearing him one/multiple children. So have a couple of non-canon snippets of Typhus, his child and perpetual!Reader!

warnings: body horror, kidnapping, lying

"Easy, Caeran, steady. Breathe in deeply, let your mind and hearts be still." Calas murmured to his child.

They held the training sword in both hands, trembling with effort, having tried and failed to overcome the shambling poxwalker that father had summoned for them to use as a training partner. "Yes papa." They panted out, leaning into one of his legs. They were frowning adorably in concentration.

An affectionate smile warms his face and Calas kneels before bending over and giving them a kiss on their forehead. "My fierce little warrior-priest." They had been blessed with their mother's eternal nature and had shown some additional psyker abilities. They were also, in his entirely un-biased opinion, the most wonderfully precious and precocious Aspirant to ever exist. Only a handful of his most trusted Brothers were even aware that Caeran was his son. Most of the others believed that he was merely a talented and very young psyker whom Calas had been led to by Grandfather's Will.

Caeran giggled and kissed their papa back on his cheek before returning to the sword-forms that they were learning. Several of papa's bees buzzed around them and landed on their head, watching and listening.

~

"But.. Why can't I play with the other aspirants, papa?" Caeran asked, a pout on their lips as they fold their arms over their chest, mimicking Typhus.

"Because you're stronger than they are, and you, like me and your mama, have psychic gifts given to you by Grandfather. The others do not, and psykery is often thought of as scary, especially from the awful world that I rescued them from." Typhus explained. He was not going to be moved by their adorable mimicry, nor their pouting. The newly acquired aspirants had been liberate from a corpse-worshipper world, and had yet to truly acclimatize to their new surroundings and liege lord. Ultramarines, even very young ones, were self-righteous and stubborn as fuck.

He had no desire for their foolishness to infect his child - especially as Caeran's healthy body and vibrant mind would make the soon to be converted Ultramarine Aspirants assume that they were also held captive aboard his fleet until they surrendered to Grandfather's Will.

Which wasn't true, but they had no way of knowing that.

"Mama said that it was fine if I played with them! So why are you saying no?" Caeran huffed, pouting more up at Calas.

He was not going to give into their pouting… And it seems he had a mischief-filled wife to gently scold. "Because they are confused right now. You will be able to play with them later."

"Awww… When is later going to be?" Caeran whined, looking up at him pleadingly.

"I can't say for sure. But I will tell you when you are able to… In the meantime, will you help me count the Little Lords who are wandering around on the upper decks? More of them have shown up recently." Calas asked, trying to divert his child's attention.

Caeran beamed and nodded "Yes I will papa! I love playing with them!" And they ran off to go chase the nurglings, giggling as they pitter-pattered away.

~

"-nd that was how I was able to convince the governor of Ablenshwein to join the commonwealth I once ruled over." Mama explained, smiling a little in the memory.

"If you have a commonwealth, why don't we ever visit any of those planets? Why are we always stuck on papa's ship?" Caeran asked, tilting their head a little up at you "I wanna know what grass feels like beneath my feet! I wanna know what it's like to be outside. How come we never get to leave?"

Mama's smile faded and she felt very sad for several moments before scooping them up and hugging them tight to her chest "I… Your papa is very protective over the two of us. He worries that if we go to a planet, we'll be lost to him, and he doesn't want that."

"But… But Papa says that you and I can't die. That we can't get sick, or be afflicted with the gifts of Grandfather Nurgle, like other people, which is why we look the way we do, rather than like papa or his brothers and the cultists." Caeran pointed out a confused frown appearing on their face. "How could papa possibly lose us, if we can't die?"

Mama was sad again, though she was still smiling at them. "There are other ways to lose people, other than death. He's worried that you and I would get separated from him. That he wouldn't be able to reach us."

"But that's silly! Even if papa isn't with us, some of his bees are, and he knows where all his bees are at all times." Caeran pointed out, still confused.

"Planets can be much larger than this ship, and his bees can only go so far away from him before they vanish back into the warp. Now, how well have you been able to sneak around, my heart?" Mama asks.

Caeran giggled "I was able to sneak through the vents for hours and no one noticed! I was also able to talk to the new people on papa's ship. The ones that felt scared and unhappy, like you told me to. They were really surprised that I was there, just like you said they would be! Their armor kind of reminds me of papa's, except that they're different colors and they didn't smell."

"Very good, Cae! Were you able to tell them what I asked you to?" Mama pressed, her eyes wide.

Caeran nodded "Uh-huh. I told them every word of what you told me to tell them. They thanked me for the message and were pretty confused about it. But I think that they'll listen."

"Good job. Now, you know that this is a secret between you and me. No telling papa or his bees or anyone else who obeys papa." Mama reminded them.

"Yes mama. I know mama. It's a secret surprise that you an' me are working on." Caeran huffed, rolling their eyes a little. Mama could be so silly about these things. Of course they were keeping this a secret from papa. Papa would scold him for going near the new people and causing mischief.

[sixpillarsofgenesis]

A Thought on Lies of P

So, I have recently - kicking and screaming, mind - gotten into Lies of P, and there's some things that bother me about the primary driver of conflict. I'm going to put this under a spoiler, so... sorry anyone who isn't expecting what's underneath.

Spoilers under the cut for the reading material, gameplay, and mini cutscenes in Lies of P.

How did Carlo die?

This entire plot point is the driving force behind how the plot in Lies of P starts, narratively, and it's also the core reason for the Real Boy ending. The reason I ask this is because common fandom concensus is that Carlo died during the Rose Estate Incident, where an outbreak of Petrification Disease killed a good chunk of the staff, including Carlo, Romeo, (allegedly) and Sophia's father.

But when you explicitly come across the memory of Carlo's death near the end of the game, it looks like he was cut in half given the Famed Stalker was apologising to him - which is further supported by the Nameless Puppet's body being entirely puppet material from about hips down.

But it also begs the question - what killed him? We never really get an answer on what, who, or even why he was killed. Carlo's death wouldn't have been a boon for anyone involved - Geppetto cut ties with the Alchemists to some degree about this in particular, and Geppetto's assistance would have been well worth keeping Carlo alive.

Given that the famous Stalker apparently rejected Carlo from training, we could infer that perhaps he wasn't up to the regular skill level she was famous for. But Romeo's message - and all of the remaining details in the game - paint Carlo as a much more competent potential Stalker than what would have been anticipated. While our Player Character is also apparently very much his own person, the fight with the Black Rabbit Brotherhood implies that Carlo learned enough of the Famed Stalker's combat by observation alone to have had it affect his combat style and capability significantly. Romeo also specifically makes note that Carlo was relentlessly stubborn and that him demolishing the puppets he sent out as an envoy to try and tell the Player Character the truth was pretty much what Romeo expected of him.

All of that marks him as very competent and capable indeed, to say nothing of the Nameless Puppet, if the puppet itself had anything of Carlo left in it, or whatever pressures Carlo might have faced as the famous Union Workshop President's son.

It's also implied that there was at least a year or two since Carlo's death. If we assume Carlo was old enough to read the original La Storia di un Burattino (The Story of a Marionette) in 1881 aka what would be the published novel of Pinnochio in 1883, then Carlo could be enrolled in the French Education as young as three years old and likely old enough to read La Storia di un Burattino as an actual book around five.

(Yes, I am aware Carlo Geppetto is Italian. For the best accuracy to match both the Belle Epoque and the Italian history, I have placed Krat near the seaside a few kilometres from the Italian Border to account for the culture blending we see in Lies of P. So sue me don't.)

Given Pinnochio is canonically Carlo's favourite childhood story, we need to look at the next landmark in the games - The Wizard of Oz. (Did you know that The Wizard of Oz was officially released in 1900?) Carlo could then have been born in 1878, placing him at 22 (or would have been) at the time of Lies of P. Around this time, it was more common to have apprenticeships around age 14-18, which would have likely been when Carlo approached the Famous Stalker to apprentice under her. As we don't know when the Rose Estate Incident took place, Carlo could have been there to complete his lycée (French secondary Education akin to high school) or baccalauréat, colloquially known as le bac.

(The reason I place Krat in France is for this reason, as Italy had a much more difficult time encouraging parents and children to attend formal education - elementary, middle, and high school, more specifically - than France, and the baccalauréat is actually pretty similar to the Stalkers, Alchemists, and Workshop Union as it is presented in canon. The entire premise of the original Pinnochio was quite literally C.Collodi's attempt to convince children to learn their basic education.)

Now, the game does not say how long either the Petrification Disease or the Puppet Frenzy lasted - but I'm still playing the game, though I did watch a walkthrough to try and get all the juicy bits - but given how fresh the bodies are, I would think that the Frenzy was definitely more recent. I would think that - for the purpose of this attempt to make sense of the Lies of P canon - in this case, the Puppet Frenzy was the most recent part, with Simon Manus causing the Rose Estate Incident when Carlo was somewhere between 16-17. Old enough that he could have graduated to become an Apprentice Stalker, but still young enough to not have anywhere to go (as he certainly didn't want to spend any time with his Father, and it was unlikely that Geppetto would have allowed Carlo to live with him anyways.)

All of these things allow for a few specific, unanswered plot points to be addressed - the apparent transformation of Gemini from Stalker to Sophia's Monad Lamp, The time Geppetto would have needed to create at least three P-Organ Prototypes and do whatever tf he did to his hand if that wasn't there already, and for him to additionally steal the Arm of God - as the only transport the Alchemists had would not have accepted Geppetto.

(This would also allow Geppetto to hold Carlo's funeral, attempt Nameless Puppet one, fail, and attempt making the Player Character/Pinocchio/P however you call him, fail again, and then kick the Puppet Frenzy into high gear.)

Outside of how Gemini was put into the Player Character's care, this timeline accounts for everything up until the reveal of Dorothy, who, if she is the person based on the 1900 novel, could have travelled to Krat to escape the fame the novel The Wizard of Oz and the subsequent sequels would have cast on her, as the original novel was so popular as to spawn around 13+ sequels.

Of course, since I am posting this here, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. If there's a better, more comprehensive timeline, I'd love to get a chance to look at it.

Some additional thoughts:

Why three P-Organs? Three because the one Romeo uses in the play is pretty close to what we see on the menu screen - I could see it being perhaps his conceptual design or prototype copy that, once the first real P-Organ was made, was left for future reference.

Why make a big deal out of Dorothy? Because Dorothy and subsequently, The Wizard of Oz would be released during the Belle Epoque (1890-1914) timeframe which this setting takes place. Given the Endgame Credits Scene, this makes considering Dorothy's appearance in Krat at the very least somewhat relevant.

A fun thought I had was the idea of Dorothy being the Famed Stalker, but that person in particular is implied to have been so much beyond the Stalkers that she superseded their hierarchy and had her own place at the top without belonging to any particular faction.

Another interesting thought was the idea of Carlo having been a Listener - as Listeners were often hunted down and experimented on, it seemed like a fun idea to play around with, but in this case, it's not certain one way or another.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Lost Boys

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam, Superfam

Summary: After Jonathan Lane Kent wipes himself from existence by canceling his own timeline, he finds himself stuck in the afterlife where he meets Jason Todd. He still wonders about the life un-lived on Earth, and how his parents would've felt about him.

Jason Todd, who is making the most of being dead, struggles with the reality of what he's left behind. He has one wish and one wish only: to send his family one final message.

Chapters: 3/?

Characters: Jonathan Lane Kent (Laney), Jason Todd, Catherine Todd, Boston Brand, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, John Constantine, Raven, Talia al Ghul, Ra's al Ghul, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake

Relationships: Platonic JayLaney

Additional Tags: Angst, Platonic Relationships, Magical Jason Todd, Resurrected Jason Todd, Queerplatonic Relationships, Canon Divergent AU, POV Multiple

Chapter Three: Someone Saved My Life Tonight (Laney Kent's POV)

I was so excited to go to the dance with Jason that I let it slip to Catherine that I didn't know how to dance. I just wanted to impress Jason, and I didn't realize it then, but talking to Catherine was probably the best decision I ever made in my life.

I didn't know her very well. I just knew that she was Jason's mom and that she was dead just like we were. She put on some music and started to dance.

"Doesn't matter if you can dance or not. You have to feel comfortable with yourself first," Catherine explained. It was easy for her to say. She was a good dancer. She took my hands and spun me around to get me to loosen up. I didn't want to laugh, but she eventually won that battle. Once I loosened up, it didn't really matter to me if I could dance or not. I didn't even notice that Jason came in from outside.

When I finally turned to see him standing there, I could feel my whole face heat up, and I turned my back to him. "For someone who's never danced, you're pretty good," Jason complimented before going straight to the kitchen.

I sat down at the table next to Catherine, and she looked at me for a moment as if she'd found something out about me. I shrank down in the seat and took a breath. "Jason, remember when you were little and your dad—."

Jason shook his head at her, and that was that. I didn't know anything about his birth father, and that was the first time I'd ever heard anyone mention him. Catherine opened her mouth to apologize, and Jason smiled and shook his head. "It's okay... I just don't want to talk about that," Jason reassured her, "Ma, why don't you come with us tonight? It'd be nice to see you get out of the house." I agreed with him.

She shook her head. "No, I couldn't—."

"Please? Catherine, it'll be fun," I interrupted. She finally gave in and said yes. I was a little relieved to know that she'd be coming with us. I could see Jason lighten up a little bit too. His shoulders dropped, and he came around and sat down with us.

I sometimes wondered if my mom would've loved me like Catherine loved Jason. I sometimes wondered if she would've loved me at all. I think, in a way, that scared me more than the concept of having to tell my father all the horrible things I'd done. I was so busy thinking about that, I didn't hear someone knock on the door. Catherine got up, and I blinked hard. She stepped outside and closed the door.

Jason gestured at me to look at him, and he mouthed, "Who is that?" I shrugged and went to the window to look, and I saw a ghost-like man in a red costume. "Well?"

"Some guy in a red costume with a 'D' on the chest," I explained. Jason stood up, and I grabbed his wrist. He looked like he was ready to fight someone, and it scared me to see him so angry. "No," I pleaded as I tried to hold onto him. He was stronger than he looked.

He wriggled loose and opened the door.

"What do you want with my ma?" Jason asked. I followed behind him and took hold of his wrist again. I was too scared to grab his hand. I looked at Boston and then at Jason, who had his fists balled up.

"Jason, it's okay. Boston was just asking me to the dance," Catherine reassured him as she brushed her knuckle against his cheek. "It's okay." Jason didn't move, and Catherine leaned forward and looked him in the eye. "It's okay, Sweet Pea," she whispered, and he relaxed his shoulders and went back inside.

I never thought he could be so hotheaded. He plopped down in his chair at the table. "Jason?" I whispered.

"She's gonna say no, right?" Jason asked. "She was gonna go with us. She doesn't need a date."

I opened my mouth to speak, but I realized Jason didn't want to hear my opinion. I went back to eating as I sat and listened to what he had to say. He stormed out before Catherine could come back, leaving me alone with her when she got back. "Where's Jason?" Catherine asked.

I frowned and took a sip of juice. "Why's he so upset?" I mumbled. Catherine sat across from me.

"I don't have the—. A lot of men in our life have hurt us. He's just being protective," Catherine explained, "He'll be okay once we talk."

"You aren't gonna go with him, though, right?" I questioned.

"Laney, I'm going to go with Boston, but not because I want to hurt Jason. Jason will always come first, but I have to have my own life—. Death? Afterlife? I have to have my own afterlife, Lane," Catherine replied. I fidgeted with my hands. "It'll be alright."

I started to worry after an hour passed and he didn't come back. "I'm gonna go to the lake and find him," I whispered. Catherine took a deep breath and nodded. I went out the front door and walked down to the lake, where Jason sat skipping stones with Boston.

I watched them from behind a tree. "You're not my father," Jason mumbled. I thanked whatever being responsible for super hearing. Boston looked down at Jason and nodded.

"Yeah, I know... And I'm not trying to hurt you. I just think Catherine's a real special lady," Boston whispered, "I'm not gonna hurt nobody, Jay. I can promise you that. Even if it doesn't work out, I promise I won't hurt either of you." Jason didn't look at him. He took another stone and skipped it across the lake.

Jason turned his head discreetly and looked directly at me. I froze and just stood there, staring back at him. He didn't say anything to me, but I could tell Jason knew I was listening. He flashed a smile, and I let out a breath of relief. Everything was going to be okay.

[albaqae]

OH MY GOD I FINALLY WATCHED MUTANT MAYHEM AND DJJSAJJSNSNFHXJDJ

queue the ramble :) (also yes spoilers)

I’m so so happy being able to take off mutant mayhem filters NOW I CAN BASK IN THE FANART YES YESBEYYEYSYSYSYSA

Ok so like I pulled up right and I knew it was gon be GOOD, but IT WAS GOODER THAT GOOD???? After I watched rise I was like mkmk yea there’s NO WAY they can make them more teenager-y But they Did.

My friend my love told me that they told the VA to change the script if they wanted to and if they thought it was more relevant and honestly? BEST DECISION EVER

U can feel however u want abt the movie but I will Fight You about the relevancy of it so bad, like something that media tends to focus on capturing is the Present, the feeling of the very moment “insert thing” happens, and the relevancy of certain situations in certain times. It’s the very reason why nostalgia hits so hard, because it is capturing the feeling of being right there in that moment, and so effortlessly

That’s what I felt watching the movie, THEY LITERALLT SAID RIZZ AND SUS, and I never in my LIFE thought I’d hear that in an ACTUAL OFFICIAL MOVIE, I just KNOW history scholars are gonna psycho analyze every reference they make

ALSO I ADORE SPLINTER SO SO SO MUCHANJAJASJKEKNX, I love seeing just-became-a-father splinter it’s AKJSNDNX. I really really love the angle they took with him, and him seeing himself reflected in superfly and how being so strict hurts his kids because it doesn’t let them explore options or themselves fully, even if he really does think he’s right

ALSO HIM AND SCUMBAG AKAJNSNSNX IT WAS SO CUTEEEE IT KILLED MEEE

AND OH GOD near the end when superfly had the turtles and was abt to like snap them and I saw the broken shells I, no kidding, screamed. THE AMOUNT OF ANGST IVE CONSUMED THAT HAS HAD BROKEN SHELLS AS ONE OF ITS MAIN PLOTS AOQJJWNSNX, it was WILDDD having it canon ngl

Overall all the characters, like every single one, felt so fleshed out and real, it was genuinely so refreshing. I love how media now focuses on capturing raw human states instead of the heavily filtered beauty standard that our societies have for so long clung to. I think future generations being able to see that will really heal some of the damage being “chronically online” can cause

April had SUCH GOOD STYLE and I loved her :) because the plot was so heavy I almost expected a lot of the characters to not have an arc at all, so I was real surprised when splinter and April realized what they did was hurting ppl. The writers were REAL good at keep the plot semi-un-crowded despite how much was going on

Again, THE HUMOR WAS SO SO PRESENT DAY AKAJWJENNX

I loved Raph LIKE ALWAYS and how they made him an angry mf w/o making it against his brothers, and just making it as just how he is, I thought it was so nice to have an iteration where he keeps his spark without making it harmful to those he cares abt (his outfit at the end was so very fire it was my fav)

Mikey was so so sweet, I love whenever he’s both a goofy goober but also one of the most empathetic ones, the hope and kindness in his eyes <33

DONNIE WAS SO RADDDD, the VA did SUCH a good job, he has my fav voice and overall he was so cool in character too, freaking out abt the attack on titan doodle was so me and I love seeing a representation of what non-toxic fandom looks like that wasn’t seen as a problem or as meant to be looked down on, bro just loves k-pop and anime!!!

Leo was AMAZINFGGGT, they kept his leader persona and his want to take responsibility and decency without making him an ass !!! And for someone who grew up with 2012 Leo that’s something I was REALLY at awe at

It’s also the first turtle x human ship i don’t hate, they didn’t make Leo be CREEPY ASF LIKE W 2012 DONNIE, but he was still a hormonal teenager having a real crush and they were still friends

I also loved lizard dude

Superfly character was so rad too, the way he spoke and carried himself was really interesting to look at and I thought it was so cool, I love villains that have actual stories, AND BABY HIM WAS SO CUTEEEEE, wish we got more sibling content on him and his crew tho, but that’s very me nitpicking

Splinter cracking his back remind me of ���BUMBUMBUM BUM BUM BUM!”

I love when tmnt doesn’t do orientalism :))) it’s very hard to avoid in iterations cause of the very foundation of tmnt, but I take it as a major W whenever we get a decent story(USUALLY AMAZING STORIES) that doesn’t rely on “oooohhhh mystery ninja stuff ooooooo” to make a compelling “aesthetic”

I also loved how Baxter stockman looked, and the turtle tots, the animation was OUT OF THIS WORLDDD, I rlly love how, as artists, we accept more diverse styles rather than just sticking to realism being the standard, because it allows for stuff like this to happen!!! And the scribbles added so much to the world ownqnnsndndjxjx I’ll rewatch it over and over again just for the art style

And also when Leo call himself leon IT MADE ME SO HAPPY BC LIKE LEO IN RISE LIKES LEON TOO IT FELT LIKE A WINK WINK SKSNSNWNMSND not sure if it was tho but it was me giggling and kicking my feet

The plot itself was so good too in the way that it applies to more than mutants, the seeking of acceptance is something really really relatable in so many contexts: neurodivergence, queerness, immigration, and so so so much more????? It’s one of my fav things of most tmnt iterations, its themes carry on to other contexts, not just to the specific story being told. This is what leads it to being so attractive to so many audiences

The music was very atsv and I thought it was so rad, it’s always nice to watch a movie that has that kinda soundtrack, especially in urban settings it’s a lot more fitting than an orchestra (sometimes, or at least I think)

By the time me movie was over with the BADASS SHREDDER APPEARANCE I lost control of my body and was just happy stimming violently and my friends just kinda 🧍‍♂️ at me, and they got the same rant u just read but even more messy, if that’s possible

I’m proud to have mutant mayhem as an official tmnt iteration, and I’m proud of the work that’s been done, and I hope to in the future maybe somehow contribute to a version too!!

I didn’t revise this, and it’s very messy, and I doubt I’ll go back and fix it, but it’s just beginning thoughts :D if you actually read this far thank you and I love you

[servicereward]

do you have any alex xanatos headcanons?

Yes! I'll divide them in to childhood and adulthood. A lot of my childhood head-canons come from the fact that he grew up in the late 90s - early 00s. Here's a few:

Childhood (1996-2014)

I think the Family Xanatos celebrated holidays Alex showed interest in. He grew up celebrating Easter with a mix of secular aspects, paganism, and fae (old world) traditions (think more of a turning of the seasons, renewal after winter, etc. than something directly related to Christian theology).

I think Alex's favorite musical artist in middle school was Lady Gaga; pop is his favorite music genre and he made sure to be at as many concerts of her as he could manage (physically and magically)

Alexander accidentally hurts someone he cares about with his magic at some point.

He doesn't have any siblings but desperately wants them, and adopts the Gargoyle hatchlings as his brothers and sisters

He doesn't want to use the tech his parents make at Xanatos Enterprises. It's just not cool! (to kids his age)

Alex has a variety of school experiences growing up, because his parents are trying to give him the most well-rounded education they can buy with their billions while also being active in his life. This results in him being a very busy child. When he's in elementary age (4k-11) he's enrolled in a private day-time school, pretty typical. In middle school (12-13) he spends his weekdays at a STEM-focus boarding school and comes home on the weekends. After he completely masters teleportation I think he'd spend his high school years (14-17) going to a public school or arts-focused charter somewhere like Los Angeles or Seattle; west coast for certain, and because of the time difference he's able to maintain tutors on other specific subjects they don't teach in school. And of course, magic lessons with Puck.

He ultimately grows up to be a good person; better by the standards of the Manhattan Clan than Xanatos, Fox, and OwenPuck are considered to be. Knowing what others think about his parents causes a deep sense of conflict in him as he grows older. He was raised to be pragmatic, confident, and ambitious - but was also raised by people who genuinely respected his feelings and treated him with love and kindness. He knows it's better to be realist but has a hard time reconciling some of their more nefarious plans with the parents he loves. I think this causes a break between them at some point, though they come back together eventually.

Adulthood (2015-XXXX)

I think Alex has multiple long-term partners over the course of his life, but fathers no children. I think this will be his reality unless the Gathering ends within his lifetime.

Alex is bisexual and really figures this out at uni (yay)

Alex attends a university in the UK (for the first time)

He makes the most out of his longevity and academics; by 2100 he's earned doctorates in history, economics, political science, sociology, and literature. He has master's degrees in more.

His job at the UN in 2198 is his first political office

[bohemian-nights]

one of the things that frustrated me the most about Hotd S1 is how dumbnyra is passed off as "soulmates/one true love" while messing with their other relationships, which I don't know if it's intentional, but it seems to repeat the pattern, and I think that was...lazy. criston and mysaria are the people they have sex with on screen, but "end" in bitter terms (coincidence that criston is a POC and Mysaria played by an asian woman? Hmm) harwin and laena are they long-time lover/wife they flirt in episode 5 and they are together for exactly 10 years (judging by the age of the children, conception probably synchronized🥴) and as if that weren't enough, they both die by fire. the only break in this pattern would be Netty, but now I'm afraid they'll ruin that in dumbnyra's favor by giving netty's agency to rhaenyra and daemon's as well, since he's looking more like Rhaenyra's watchdog than the rogue prince that we know, seriously, his peak in the first season was the fight on stepstones

The show is racist(yeah the way they approached Mysaria and Criston was messed up especially in Mysaria’s case since they took away elements of her story and made her speak in that atrocious accent, but it’s not my culture so I’m not really going to speak on it) and especially anti-Black as hell(which I will speak on especially since they seem to have a problem specifically with Black women; see how they screwed over Laena at every turn by turning her into an unloved unwanted woman the moment they race bent her, and the fandom literally celebrated it because they are anti-Black too), but they passed off Dumbnyra as soulmates?🥴

I have a hard time believing this when Daemon literally choked Rhaenyra out in the finale(which isn’t book canon which means they chose to write this and put it in there when they didn’t have to). Mind you this happened after she just gave birth to lizard and she just lost her father. He also keeps abandoning her every five seconds, and though they screwed over his relationship with Laena they actually wound up cutting down Dumbnyra’s time together(and he was shown to be softer with Laena ironically; yes the bar is in hell, but its something 🤷🏽‍♀️).

Plus older!Rhaenyra and Daemon have exactly 0 chemistry which does matter since a major component of romance is yah know chemistry (which is another reason why their fans are always whining, over-compensating, backtracking after they said Rhaenyra would change Daemon so now they say that they love toxicity, and obsessing over Laena and Nettles even though they are “irrelevant and meant nothing” to Daemon🙃).

If that’s them turning Dumbnyra into soulmates I’d like to see what they would do to show that Daemon doesn’t give a rats a** about Rhaenyra🤣 What have him return from the Battle Above the Gods Eye and un-alive her himself🤣(lol Dumbnyra stans would still find someway to turn it into a win).

With Nettles I’ll remain cautiously optimistic cause if they screw her over it is misogynoir and the second Black love interest they screwed over due to their own biases(and the show would need to be called out and threatened with a boycott for that), but it won’t be because of them making Dumbnyra into soulmates.*

*At least this isn’t the way I’d write soulmates(hell one of my other OTPs, Olitz, had major problems, but even at their most toxic, Fitz never choked out Olivia. Shonda knew not to do that). So if this is the writer's attempt at doing that then they truly are certifiably insane in addition to being racist c*nts.

[florelia12]

Naturally, I was thinking about florelia and their backstories (what else am I supposed to do with my life?)

I was also reading dramione fanfics (again) and it got me thinking abt 6th year Draco being asked to assassinate Dumbledore…

Did I find a way to turn that into a Helia backstory? Yes. Yes i did.

So, I started thinking about first-year, fifteen year old baby Helia being sent to kill Saladin. Going undercover as a Specialist in Red Fountain.

And it’s got a bit of Necromancer!Helia in it. So CW for child abuse, DV and death.

I’ve had this headcanon that Saladin wasn’t always a cheerful/understanding old man. He used to be rather fierce and unforgiving, emotionally detached and tied to duty. I think it’s also canon that he left his ex-girlfriend because she went into the dark arts.

Something consistent in all my hcs about Helia is his parents straight up being on the dark side and working with Valtor (maybe inspired by that one scene with Valtor and Helia). So, Saladin’s son kind of turns on him and the light side and joins Valtor.

This would result in Saladin disowning his son in an effort to remind the rest of the Company of Light where his loyalties lie. Saladin has shown that his reputation matters highly to him so i think this would be fairly in character.

Even go as far as to killing his own son during a battle.

At this point does Saladin know he has a grandchildren? Nope.

So out of fear of Saladin and a new hatred for Valtor for letting her husband die, Helia’s mother takes her kids and goes into hiding. She turns to her family who are Necromancers, begging them to bring back her husband. She’s too weak to do it herself.

Her family was once on the dark side but turned neutral after realising that the Company of Light might actually stand a chance at defeating Valtor.

So they refuse at first but they know that after the battle is over, the light side will shun them out or even prosecute them so having power over Saladin’s grandkids might come in useful one day.

They bring Helia’s father back to life but he’s not the same since bringing back the dead will always have consequences. He’s more evil than before and swears to take revenge on his father. Kind of loses his mind a little from spending time on the other side. Since it took some time, his body also kind of stays in a half decayed state. for the creepy effects..

After watching Vox Machina I can’t help but think of Helia with a twin sister. However, in the case of twins in my hcs is that one of them (the healthier one in the womb) will end up absorbing magic from the other one. So only one twin can use magic while the other can’t, basically making them a human.

Helia is the one with the magic potential, twice as powerful since he absorbed his sister’s magic as well. Also he ends up inheriting the necromancy magic.

Helia is raised and trained by his father to kill Saladin while maintaining the cover that his father is dead.

They both grow up with his mother’s family but they don’t know about Helia’s father’s plans.

Helia of course doesn’t want to kill anyone, but since his father is crazy atp he uses his sister and mother to threaten Helia. Goes as far as to torture his mother to keep Helia in line. But, mostly ignores his sister because she’s useless to him.

He also leeches off of Helia’s powers to keep himself alive that makes Helia rather weak and sick at times, resulting in him having to visit Linphea to get help from the healers. Kind of makes sense for necromancers to work with Healers so they’ve got big connections, aka the royal palace where he meets Krystal. (Trying to tie it all in is tiring but fun)

Helia has a close relationship with his sister. She knows he does his best to protect her but she’s also treated badly for not having any powers. There isn’t any animosity between them but she does envy him. A lot. She won’t be able to fulfil the ‘task’ since she doesn’t have powers and can’t be a Specialist either which she finds extremely unfair.

She kind of has to become a caretaker for their mother who refuses to leave their father because she knows the man he once was but her health gets worse from the torture. Especially since their guardians, their mother’s family, doesn’t know what their father does to them.

So once he turns fifteen, he ends up in Red Fountain, just like any other Specialist. Saladin of course takes note of the resemblance and his magic signature but once he looks into Helia’s background he doesn’t find anything suspicious.

Maybe his records show that he was an orphan. Taken in as a ward. Still ironing out that part.

Helia is of course canonically one of the best students. Catching Codatorta’s and Saladin’s attention. This gets him closer to the professor and they end up sending him on more espionage missions that makes him a better spy. He then uses his advanced spying skills to plot out the best way to unalive saladin.

At some point, Helia starts to remind Saladin of his son before he turned dark. This kind of brings out the guilt he always felt for killing his son without giving him a chance to redeem himself.

The normally strict, fierce and commanding headmaster starts going soft on Helia.

This of course confuses Helia because isn’t this the man ruthless enough to kill his own son? How is he supposed to kill him now?

Codatorta on the other hand is extremely suspicious of Helia and he is the one who figures out who he truly is. But, when he tells Saladin, Saladin decides to not let Helia know that he knows.

When the time is right, Helia is supposed to carry out his plan. But when he does, Saladin is just there waiting for him. He offers to take Helia in, even pardon his mother and do his best to protect him they way he couldn’t protect his son.

Helia is torn and doesn’t know what to do. He wants to keep his family safe and he is terrified of what his father will do. He breaks down and tells all of this to Saladin.

Codatorta thinks it’s all an act but Saladin chooses to believe him. To end the cycle.

Helia realising he actually wants to stay at Red Fountain and that he can be something other than a murderer. That he can actually protect people, be a hero and all that.

Both Helia and Saladin take a leap of faith. Helia accepts.

Helia’s mother is first rescued and sent to Lightrock where she can safely serve her time since she too has started to deteriorate from the torture.

His father is arrested and sent to the Omega Dimension since they can’t actually kill him again.

His sister is missing at first but she finds Helia and is angry at him for betraying their family. She’s mad at him because they took their mother away and no matter how much Helia tries to reason with her, she refuses to listen. She says she would have gone through with the assassination but he couldn’t.

Then she abandons him and disappears.

The news breaks out that Helia’s Saladin’s grandson causing uproar and rumours that he purposely hid Helia’s identity to prevent nepotism accusations.

Having learned his lesson and in an effort to be a better grandfather, he publicly claims Helia as his grandson.

This backfires on Helia who was once respected by his fellow specialists but now they hate him for lying. It caused a lot of issues for Saladin as well.

Helia who is exhausted from everything that has happened and doesn’t know what to do with his newfound freedom, decides to leave and explore the world.

Saladin respects his decision but Codatorta wants him to stay because he’s grown fond of Helia.

Of course, Helia leaves for art school in the end, renounces his magic because he is so done with that shit and then the rest is history.

Phew…

Now ive always wanted to write a fanfic about Helia’s first time at Red Fountain but it always turns into this complicated mess of angst that I decided to just ramble.

If there was ever a sequel it would be about Helia’s sister coming back after years and she’s evil now (maybe even breaks their mother out of prison) but Helia tries to save her and all that. Or his father got out of omega dimension when Valtor broke out. So much familial angst.

Anyways that’s all for tonight. Thanks for tuning in.

[alren-ki]

👪🎂🌙🕷️🌌🎁🌟for all

Oh this is gonna be Some Typing huh. Theres four of these guys.

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

Oleander: - Answered

Marius: Ok so, it should be noted that I am taking Fallout Three and using a whisk on it, that said: Marius has only ever known one of their mothers, and was basically attached to her leg their whole life, she was an alright mom, a bit overprotective at times, but it was understandable given the circumstances, non-biologically, eventually comes to consider Kellogg almost their father, and its one of the few healthy relationships to any other human they have after leaving the vault.

Nemesis: It was just him and his mother as well, though, for a large potion of his life it was him caring for her after she got sick and deteriorated, it was the whole reason for him becoming a courier, to get enough caps to support her. He knows Of several extended family members though, just never met them, thats how he knows the weird hair mutation he has is a family thing.

Morrie: Pre-War, Morrie had a HUGE family, cousins and aunts and all that. She also had an older brother, and they were practically inseparable. Mitchell was three years older and had some pretty severe undiagnosed ADHD, Morrie did her best to keep him grounded and keep jerks off his back, and he did his best to pull her back when she was going to far and help bridge the gaps left by her aggressiveness. The fact he's probably dead is genuinely impossible for her to process on top of everything else.

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

Ole: Not quite sure themselves anymore, and they don't really, hard to celebrate when you don't have anyone to celebrate with (Its November 7th)

Marius: July 13th, the canon one for the LW. They haven't celebrated it since they left the vault, and it'd take a lot of convincing for them to even think about it.

Morrie: September 17th, She hasn't had time to in a few years, plus it just felt, wrong to do it without sharing it with Mitch, since his was literally the day after they always used to combine it, just another thing they shared.

Nem: April 6th, Yes He Celebrates it, You Celebrate it now, sprawls himself out and does the most pathetic birthday boy pout, flirts with guys and asks if they want to give a kiss to the birthday boy, its Insufferable and he's enjoying himself So Much.

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

Ole: If you asked them this question you'd break them. They, don't really know what they wish for, especially right after the Benny Incident, it takes them a long time to figure it out. But, what they really want is a life where they have what they need, have a small group of people to love them, and a place to go to sleep safe each night, and their willing to work for it however hard they have to.

Marius: They want to be able to keep the people they love safe for once, just once, just this *fucking* once. And they'll kill with their bare hands for that if they have to, if it will change just one outcome. And failing that? They Want Fucking Revenge, and they want it to fucking hurt.

Morrie: For people to stop being bullies, for the strong and cruel to stop picking on others, for someone like her to be unnecessary. For the world to un-end, to have the slightest fucking bit of luck, to have gotten the CHANCE for her and Jimmy to figure out if they could work or not. She wants fairness, The impartial judge to finally really be impartial. She wants a lot. She's not sure where she'd go to get it.

Nem: He just wants plenty of caps, plenty of power and for no one to expect him to lead shit. He doesn't care what it takes to get it, its him and anyone he likes against the world. Fuck everyone else. If they weren't made for the top, who gives a shit. Just means more booze for him.

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

Ole: ....I'mma be honest, I don't know what Ole's scared of, maybe being in a bad situation without an exit or someone taking the shrink-boy from them but like, thats all they got. Anything else is so close to their chest even I don't know it. Marius: Heights. They Fucking Hate Heights, They grew up underground people were not meant to go into the sky please let them climb down now, also, rickety buildings, they are fat and not very graceful, if something looks like it might come down at the wrong step, fuck that.

Morrie: She's just a little claustrophobic, also, spiderwebs specifically, spiders not on a web are fine but spiderwebs feature in WAY to many of her nightmares actually.

Nem: He's actually scared shitless of feral ghouls, like, climb up a tree level scared shitless, he can't manipulate, manwhore, Malewife his way out of this one. Please come get him. He's also not generally a fan of dogs.

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Oleander: Ok so, originally, Ole was GOING to be an attempt to make another OC of mine but in Fallout, so, technically the Inspo for Ole was Dande, so the flat affect and trouble with emotions were the first building blocks, and then I decided the fact I picked specifically a poisonous flower should mean something about how they view themselves

Marius: *Looks directly at @flamestar1031* You know what you did. In less jokes directed at my dearest friends, I started thinking about how I might twist Fo3 to my whims the way I have with literally every other fallout game I have played, I have opinions and unfortunately the fallout fangame did not contain them. Due to a cross with a fic ANOTHER friend inflicted on me, I decided right off the bat they'd be deaf, nonbinary, and have a trans mom. Their name was the last thing they got and I fucking outsourced it lol.

Morrie: I just crumbled things together for her, didn't have any ideas going in, then, picked up the older brother thing and immediately decided the core tenant of her character was she Doesn't Like Bullies

Nem: He invaded my brain fully formed as a house run guy and I shot him in the fucking heart for it, Unfortunately it seems Doc Mitchell is a Heart Surgeon as well as a brain surgeon. Now everyone has to deal with my asshole man. I'd say I'm Sorry but I refuse to suffer alone.

🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?

Ole: Practical, fabric to repair their clothes, sewing needles, food, anything really, also, No, They are so not, The best they got is putting things they think you might need on your bed and fucking booking it, They are So Unpracticed, help them. Please.

Marius: Nostalgic, things that remind them of the vault, of being a kid, that or chems, but thats not as sweet. Also, surprisingly, yes, Marius can be incredibly thoughtful at times, if you convince them to be.

Morrie: Things with weight, an inside joke, some acknowledgement of an event, kitschy tourist shit that reminds you of being close to someone, Morgan Farrier's a bit of a fucking dork. She does her best in the giving department but oftentimes is so shy about it its hard to not laugh at her a little, and then she's gotta hit ya just a little about it, so, if your good with that kind of interaction then yes.

Nem: All The Things, especially shiney things, This should be obvious by now lol, but also just, he's the person its best to just give money to. Granted, if he genuinely cares about you, you will also, straight up get spoiled about it. so, surprisingly decent at giving, for a prick.

🌟 GLOWING STAR - what do they think about when they look at the night sky? is there someone they want to star gaze with?

Ole: A map, a compass, all that, Bron taught them how to read the sky when they were younger, it reminds them a lot of being a kid sometimes, They don't have anyone in particular right now, but, maybe someday they'd also teach someone to see the sky like they do.

Marius: They Fucking Hate It, Its blurry and hard to see, just more reminders things aren't like they used to be, more reminders of uncomfortable corners they had to tuck into, if they had their way they'd never acknowledge the stars again.

Morrie: A lot of things, stargazing is one of those things that just makes her mind drift and forces her to actually think things through, she's admitted a lot of stuff while staring upwards, it reminds her of when she and Mitch were young, sneaking out at night to stargaze and talk where their parents couldn't hear them about kids stuff, she wishes she had gotten to do it with Jimmy more, maybe they could have worked more of their problems out with the sky as company.

Nem: I don't know if he thinks anything of the stars, surrounding himself in artificial ones the way he does, but stargazing sounds like a decent date with the right guy to him.

Questions from: [x]

[marlasomething]

(my) Mag a Week: Observed Mission

Hello there!

I am participating in the "a mag a day" idea by @a-mag-a-day which is BRILLIANT and I decided to do "statement a week", rolling dice with the characters and fears that were ftw that week in the episodes I have listened.

For today I rolled Archivist!Jon (so I changed to a thing what was originally going to be canon and ended up being the other way round) and The Slaughter (Eps. 72-80).

As usual, please do forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes, Marla

Allons-y!

CW: violence, animal violence, sickness, swearing (and hinted slurs), racism (asshole main character, it happens), death, paranoia, unreality

Also on AO3!

Statement of Elliot Mercury, regarding the stalking he believes he is being subjected to by one Adelard Dekker.

Recorded by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

 My mother was…is, I guess, I haven’t seen her since my parents divorced and I took my father’s side because, well, you don’t have to be that intense, mom. Jeez. Anyway, I guess you, with your academic looks and all that, disapprove of my writing register; but this is my story so, you know, I don’t care about your fancy-degree-boy’s opinions.

As I was saying, writing, whatever: my mother was Spanish and there was this idiom she loved to use and, to be honest, it is pretty neat (and accurate to my current situation): “ Porque una vez maté un perro, me llamaron mataperros ” that would roughly translate as “ Because I once killed a dog, I was called dog-slayer ”. It is used to signify when one action, usually a bad one, is used by people around you to define who you truly are.

That is why that…well, seeing your complexion ; I will be sensitive and don’t describe the nut-job that is following me as I truly want to. The thing is: this one-time mistake is why that crazy guy had started following me around. And I swear I saw him reading a book that was totally some spy device with a joystick or something inside, because I started tumbling as if someone was constantly trapping my legs the moment he focused on it and started…muttering.

Again: crazy dude.

 It all began because I kind of literally killed a dog. Well, it was a ferret, but its owner treated him as his beloved little puppy. I would usually never do a thing like that, even if I am being bothered by people like this person (that, by the way, even randomly introduced himself pretending to be someone in need of indications, that is why I could give you his actual name), but…my boyfriend insisted.

Yes, yes, I know I don’t look like a guy who liked guys , but, honestly, if you are hot, not too intense and half-nice…you are absolutely my type.

But this is all beside the point. The thing is, my boyfriend Tyler is allergic to ferrets, like, very allergic to them . I recall once, a few months back, that we went over to my step-mother’s house, and she had a ferret-fur coat that she insisted on not taking to her bedroom and…Tyler got very sick. He actually almost died and I held his hand the whole time, as his fingers and head become so swollen that the rest of his thinning body felt almost as a caricature.

I stayed with him in the hospital the whole time, getting increasingly angry, as I could not do a thing except for punching walls and yelling at nurses who believed themselves better than me just because they had a degree on almost-medicine . I am a bloody engineer; it is not as if I were illiterate, for fuck’s shake!

Before he recovered, he got worse, he even got into cardiac arrest and, mad with frustration, lacking a mission or objective (I had been recently fired, and Tyler is a photographer freelancer, so another reason why money was not in the cards, hence more time in the hospital since the quicker treatment was no option for us) and I started punching him in the chest.

I was angry. I was angry at him for getting sick, at my step-mom for having a coat she couldn’t truly afford (and, therefore, barely wear), at ferrets for their existence…Tyler is everything that is ok with my life right now, I couldn’t lose him and, as it seems, loving him was not enough, and I had to be enough.

So I turned him, his protection into my personal cause to fight for and brought him back from the other side with my bare hands.

I hugged him, I cried over him and, finally, I let him go as he gave me a sly smile. He was alright and, now, I was his paladin.

 We returned home that very evening. The doctors said it was okay to get him home with the one condition that he didn’t leave the house or have any visitors for a few days.

His lungs still had water or something.

Convinced as I still am of how I shall keep him safe and sound, away from all evil in this world, there was nothing that upset me more than seeing that our already a bit nosy neighbour got a ferret.

He promised me it was temporary thing, just until his uncle recovered of whatever sickness he had going on. I didn’t truly pay attention.

I couldn’t: the memory of Tyler’s coughs as he lingered on a hospital bed had been turned into an incipient melody inside my head and supressed everything but the breath of the rat-like animal (don’t you dare even pretending you don’t see the similarities between those two fuckers).

The only reason I didn’t got to his throat that very instant, imagining myself cutting open his throat so I could set free in pieces all the tendons, muscles and vocal chords that were working hard so his nonsense could reach my very ears was that Tyler held my hand with a hand in which he was already holding a knife so sharp I felt as it cut me and a drop of blood felt to the floor, almost as if I were on a trance.

I breathed deeply, picture that blood belonging to the ferret (or its owner) and followed Tyler inside.

There was only one lesson to be learned here: next time, I will be carrying a gun already.

 At the end, the next time the ferret came into my property, this time without its annoying owner, just the bloody bastard wanting to take a piss on our front yard, it wasn’t a bullet what was headed towards him, but an ancient arrow I thought completely gone, since my father gave all his violent objects to a foundation since he said they were awakening something wrong in him.

Yeah, my father also became a weakling a few years back.

I shot the ferret dead and, then went to his side, took off the arrow, and stabbed it with the poignant object over and over again. Just until I realised now I couldn’t go inside, without risking Tyler’s life.

So I decided to shower on my neighbours pool (yes, please, don’t make any comments) and, as I left from one house to the other, I realised a dark figure was staring at me from the other side of the street. I shrugged and went inside where, curiously enough, was Tyler.

Apparently, our neighbour had taken extra-precautious measures so he wouldn’t go into anaphylactic shock and he was taking care of the house in the meantime. He obviously asked me why I was so dirty, I told him that it was a honour-gentleman thing playfully, letting it clear I wanted some after I had cleaned myself up a bit and went inside as he said: “ your love for violence is moving, thank you so much ”. Yes, if Dekker hadn’t come on knocking, that would have been the best sex of my entire adult life.

 As I just advanced, Dekker knocked as I was finishing taking away some guts from the inside of my fingernails. Tyler opened and answered a lot of extremely random questions because he was…I don’t even know, pal, I didn’t pay much attention except for the fact that he kept staring at me and, when he left, almost with pity, he muttered “you can defend yourself without a knife always at arms’ reach” and, then, he was simply gone.

I shuddered, he had sounded so much closer than it should have been possible and yet…it had happened. Probably some voodoo, or any other similar shit on that line.

 After that, I found him everywhere and, when I got really upset (especially with ferrets and similar creatures and its irresponsible owners) he always appeared, with decision and…was that fear? Maybe, yes. Fear in his eyes.

 I can keep this no more; it is driving me insane and Tyler (who is currently on special shooting in Glasgow) texted me the other day saying “ you know what you want to do; you know how much I approve of you protecting our intimacy ”. So, yeah, I must just admit that I am about to commit a crime, but, with how driven I am, good luck trying to stop me (or getting any cop believing you).

Dekker is getting what he deserves.

He shouldn’t have believed my personal life was anything of his incumbency.

Actually? Now that I come to think of it more calmly, I almost pity him. If his life is so interesting he spends most of his time observing me …well, it must be sad not to have a Mission.

  Statement ends.

  The case of Elliot Mercury is…rather interesting. He came in last week, wrote his statement, stormed off the building and…he was found dead within hours (we had to suffer the police efforts , but there was absolutely no trace of violence or anything else whatsoever. Those who saw him, described him as the emptiest eyes they had ever seen.

I wished I knew how Elliot lived those last moments…

…the story about the ferret is true, only that, in all documents I could found, the man went missing too, being finally certificated dead two days ago. There had been other disappearances around Mister Mercury, and in most of them signs of violence could be observed.

The most remarkable thing, though, is the fact that his boyfriend, Tyler Forbes did die after he was hospitalised for an extreme allergic reaction.

Elliot’s step-mother was one of the very first people to disappear.

At least, I guess, Adelard Dekker had stopped this phenomenon, even if it is in a rather extreme way…

End recording.

  SUPPLEMENTAL : Sasha came to me yesterday with a mountain of folders containing information regarding Tim. She said that she knew this was a bit Pepe Silvia (whoever that person is) of her, but that I had to listen to her.

She claimed that Tim wasn’t Tim, that she knew this was him but she felt he wasn’t and that she had the definite clue: he barely got any reaction of him when talking to him about Danny, his brother.

By what she had told me, that fact seems rather…Impossible and, since our face-off in the tunnels was so bizarre, not to mention his alleged new girlfriend… I still not completely certain but, I am afraid, she might be right.

End recording.

[inklore]

the price of pity

premise: namor can’t blame you for wanting to reach out and touch him, to tease him, to silently beg him to take you upstairs and fuck you into your mattress. he can however blame you for acting so needy the two of you almost get caught.

pairing: dbf!namor x (f)reader

word count: 2.9k+

warnings: namor is a mean!dom it’s canon, fingering, dirty talk, brat tamer!namor, mentions of past p in v, teasing, degradation, nose riding mention, name calling but in a hot way, established secret relationship, age gap (readers in her 20s), mentions of sexting, amenaza means menace.

note: am i addicted to writing dbf!namor now thanks to my fellow whores out there? maybe, possibly, yes. this idea struck me like a punch to the gut and my insides wouldn’t rest until i wrote it so please suffer along with me.

part one | feel free to send more thots on these two!

You’ve come to learn that keeping secrets takes little to no effort at all when said secret is something that makes you happy. Something that brings the sun into your life, making you realize that the light within it before was just artificial lighting. Or maybe it was less poetic than that. Maybe you just liked how it felt to not be at odds with a man you never realized you burned for until he grabbed your face and singed your skin with his lips.

Or perhaps you just liked how much he made you come.

Casually hooking up with someone was not new to you. You’ve had your share of sexual encounters to know what you like, what you don’t like, and the type of person you like said things from. You didn’t expect anything to differ when it came to being with Namor. Didn’t expect it to get past the kiss in the kitchen that had been cut short from your fathers arrival.

You hadn’t expected a text from him that night while you laid in bed, a simple conversation of limits and misplaced guilt and fear that quickly turned into dirty words. And perfectly angled photos of his broad chest and happy trail—a video of his cock in hand following shortly after.

Nor did you expect to end up tangled in his bed sheets days later.

It was hard to wrap your head around something you didn’t impose on happening, didn’t think about happening until his kiss almost knocked you off your feet, and your name coming from his mouth as he came on your stomach had made you woozy.

But this was your reality now, and where shame should have lied, your attachment to Namor had grown.

Like vines wrapping around said shame and guilt and fear of being caught by your father, suffocating it. Letting the press of his tongue and the tip of his cock fully snuff it out until all there was was you and Namor.

And your secret meetings.

Meetings that made you realize—after the first time—your history of sexual encounters couldn’t come close to something like this. Like him. How he made you come undone with only words, the tip of his tongue and nose, a hand at your throat, nails digging so deep into the flesh of your hips from behind that he left you with bruises shaped like little moons to fawn over in the shower.

He had taken what you liked and turned it into true desire. True need.

It almost made you despise him—how he could make you come harder than you yourself ever could. Or how un-smug he was about it. How he still wore that beautiful scowl when he looked at you but now he just smiled a little more. Smirked, Would pull you to his chest when you were coming down and only start fucking you again when you begged him for it.

And it only frustrated you even more—where the despising really came in—when you’d wonder how long this would last.

How long could the two of you get away with this, how long did he want to keep doing it?

They were thoughts you quickly shot down. Let get wrapped up in those vines that were hiding you from the ugly truths and what ifs of this new relationship. If the time came where your father found out you knew that giving Namor up would never be an option. He said it himself: “if I keep touching you, if I let myself cross that line, I’ll never stop.”

And he hadn't.

And while keeping it a secret became easy—with little effort—not being able to touch Namor while he was over, when he came to visit your father, seemed to become more of a challenge with each visit.

There were only so many dark looks from across the room, or sweeps of his eyes up your legs, and upturns of smirks when you accidentally brushed past him or sent him a cheeky text while he shared beer with your father—you could handle. It all ending the same way, reaching the same destination with stolen kisses, a slap on the ass, and the stretch of his cock inside of you when you feed your dad another lie to get out of the house and over to his.

That still didn’t make it easy to pretend like nothing was going on when you could smell his cologne from across the room, or the sound of his deep chuckle making your thighs press closer together. The knowing glances of burning want behind his dark eyes when he caught you staring when you weren’t supposed to be.

So right now, as you sat with your exposed outer thigh pressed against his—as he manspreads on the, now, very small sofa the two of you were sharing—as the three of you watched a game you did not care about; you were going crazy.

Each time he shifts your body moves, pulling you into his frame more and more as if he were calling to your body, like some silent siren song. The pheromones from his cologne clogging your nostrils, the memory of how even sweat slicked against your body—your face buried into the crook of his neck—the musky sea salt scent still sticks to him. Still make your brain cloud over.

The parts he’s touching burn.

Make you squirm on the sliver of cushion his body allows you to have. The insides of your thighs pressed so tight together that your muscles ache; to be released, touched, smoothed over by his rough palms. The longer you sit here the longer your mind toys with the need you feel between your legs. And you really can’t help it. It's as if he’s rewired your entire DNA to crave him, even when you know you can’t. When you shouldn’t touch him—can’t touch him. You know how wrong it is to reach your hand out and let your fingers skate over the seam of his jeans, but you can’t help yourself.

The look he shoots you is deadly, making something dangerous twist at your insides like a bull seeing a red flag.

He’s not amused.

Barely gives you any reactions other than the few deadly scowls. If it wasn’t for the tick in his jaw and how his glare burns a hole through the tv, you wouldn’t think he was affected at all by your little touches—brushes, squirms and noises you’re manically dishing out right behind your fathers back. His recliner angled perfectly out of view of your shenanigans.

Maybe that’s why you’re so wet right now. Why your underwear is sticking to you uncomfortably. The risk of getting caught, of Namor slipping up and showing you the desire he only does behind closed doors right here in the open.

But he doesn’t feed into it. Doesn’t grant your silly behavior with the reaction you went; even if the scowl that’s shadowing his face turns you on more than the lightning strike of his smile.

When your dad stands up during a half time break your body instinctively wants to jump back. Move away from Namor and pretend your body isn’t completely on fire, heated with something you shouldn’t feel for him—try to act as normal as possible. And you’re sure you succeed, like every other time before this. With a soft smile and foe interest at whatever is going on on the tv.

Your fathers words going in one ear and out the other as your eyes blink from the tv to Namor’s side profile. The genuinely friendly smile he gives your dad at whatever he’s saying he’s going to do in the basement, makes your chest swoop. The stretch of his neck, the skin you love to bite and suck at there to hear him growl against your ear. The bump in his nose that you love to feel when he’s eating you out; you’re overheating.

He can’t be mad at you for wanting to reach over and touch him, to tease him, to silently beg him to take you upstairs and fuck you into your mattress—can he? He wouldn’t be. Right?

Wrong.

You realize when your fathers footsteps disappear into the kitchen and the heavy groan of the basement steps being walked on fades into silence. A groan of pain croaking in the back of your throat when Namor grabs you by the jaw, pulling you so very close to his face—too close, too much of an agitated look in his eye for it to be romantic, the type of closeness and grip you’d give to an enemy, not someone you’re fucking.

“Stop.”

The innocent look you give him isn’t a play. Another tease to keep the game going, to let him know how much you want him. He knows. He always knows. No. The look you’re giving him is one you’d give when your jaw is aching from the hold on it and the intensity of the dark eyes burning through you.

“Amenaza,” he sneers in his native tongue. Making your cheeks burn hotter, your voice losing all backing of the tough-teasing-stance you had minutes ago.

“I can’t help it.” You frown, let your palm splay against his upper thigh, “going all day without you touching me feels like a crime.” Your attempts at a teasing joke only make his stare more agitated. The smile you try to surface hard to do when his fingers feel like they're about to snap your jaw in two.

“I’m questioning your smarts, again.”

You start to speak but he cuts you off with harsh words, “if you wanted to be fucked as bad as you’re claiming, you think you would be smart enough to not ruin the chances of it ever happening again by getting caught.” The back of his thumb rubs against the line of your jaw, his eyes making a slow show of tracing the outline of your face from your eyes to your lips and back up again. “Or does that get you off? Getting caught, never coming by my hand–or my cock–again. I used to think you were a good girl. But having seen just how easily,” the pad of his thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “it is to get you cock drunk. I know I was mistaken in thinking that.”

The breath coming out of your lungs in heavy puffs blows against his finger. The beat of your heart against your ribcage makes it even harder to breathe. To function and suffice an argument to shoot back at him. An argument that would just be throwing matchsticks into an already blazing fire; useless.

The pounding between your legs becoming so unbearable you can’t help but try and get some friction by grinding your ass into the couch as subtly as possible. A subtle motion that is just the opposite of what you want it to be, but sends tingles down your spine and relieves a fraction of the ache you’re fighting tooth and nail with.

Namor notices right away. His eyes move down to the movements you halt once you realize the aforementioned lack of subtleness. Your need making you feel girlishly stupid and frustrated.

You despised him. You really did.

“You want me to touch you with your father in the next room?” He questions, looks at you with a curl of disgust on his lips. A look you can’t tell is genuine or not, but makes flutters swarm your stomach either way. He doesn’t let you answer, you’re sure he doesn’t want you to with the way he’s looking at you. With the way he pulls you forward so his lips are now so close to yours that when he speaks again you can feel the brush of his mustache. “You’re such a whore. You’re sick.” His tone low and like gravel against your aching insides.

“You like it,” you breathe. Stare down at his lips before meeting his dark eyes again.

Your retort making the grip on your already stinging jaw press harder into the bone, surely bruising skin, as he grips it harder—tighter, if that’s even possible. The look of disgust setting his brows down even lower, eyes narrowed.

You don’t expect to feel the hard indents of his free hand grabbing the back of your thigh, pulling your legs apart. A slap to your inner thigh making you gasp when you don’t keep yourself spread for him. His silence even more of an anticipation than the feel of his fingertips dancing up your thighs. Slipping past the waistband of the cloth shorts adorning your lower half.

The look that flashes over his eyes when he touches the outside of your panties, feels how soaked they are, makes a pathetic noise hitch in your throat. The gasp you let out even louder when he presses two fingers against the wet fabric, spreading you through them and coming down on your clit. Your fingers digging into the side of his t-shirt to ground yourself. To remind you that your father is just below you. That he’s barely touched you and you’re already so wet and ready for him that just a press of his fingers is making your hips gyrate, and feel close to coming.

“Am I the only one who fucks you like this? Makes you scream when you come?” He had said one night, mouth pressed to your ear as he held you down to the mattress, hips pounding hard against your ass as he fucked you.

And the answer was yes. Just as he doesn’t need to ask you if you’re this wet for him. You always are.

It’s when he finally stops teasing you from outside of your underwear and pushes past them that you can hear how wet you are—that both of you can, if the feral look on his face is anything to go by. The moans that you try to swallow down creeping up your throat like burning coals that refuse to go out. Adding to the symphony of filth you prey can’t be heard from downstairs.

As Namor’s knuckle rubs at your sensitive clit, two fingers push—as deep as your tightness will allow him to go—inside of you, fucking you with them.

“Shut up,” he demands as he releases your jaw to grip the back of your neck, pulling your mouth to his. “Keep your pretty mouth quiet, or this will be the last time you get fucked by any part of me.”

And it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever been asked to do.

Trying to keep the burning pleasure that he’s giving you, that is coiling your body like an overworked spring ready to give and come apart, from spilling from your mouth the way you want. The way you need. The way you know he loves.

But think he might love more.

The hard look he keeps flashing from your eyes to your mouth as it hangs open on silent sobs—the hand brushing against the outline of his cock pressing tight to his jeans—letting you know for certain.

His forehead presses to yours as he grunts “you don’t deserve my cock. You’re lucky I’m giving you my pity.” But he makes no move to remove your hand, to stop himself from slowly rocking his hips up to apply more pressure to himself, “so stop being greedy before I stop being nice.” He threatens.

Your palm freezes immediately and pulls away from his lap, the whine you want to let out swallowed down from the blaze of his glare when he pulls his head from yours. When he goes back to watching you, like he’s torturing the both of you. When you’re the one who’s trying not to lose it right now; at his threats, his beautifully deep brown eyes, and the way his fingers are fucking you so deep and slow while his knuckle plays with your clit in the opposite speed, making your legs instinctively itch to close the closer and closer you get to coming.

And you’re so fucking close you want to scream. To cry. To praise him for his pity on you.

“Look at me.” He demands, squeezing the skin at the back of your neck. “You wanted this, wanted to be a whore,” he says the derogatory word like a praise. Liquid smooth and thick with his own obvious lust. “So come for me,” and two, three—four—strokes against your clit and you’re coming. His mouth pressing hard against yours as he muffles the cries you let out. His tongue lapping them from your throat like the sweetest poison.

He doesn’t allow you to catch your breath before he’s pulling away from you though. Removing his hand from your shorts, slipping the two fingers that were inside of you into his mouth to clean, and then he’s righting himself back to normal. Grabbing his forgotten beer and pressing it to his mouth. A smile on his face just as your father walks back into the room.

He doesn’t look to you again until a commercial breaks on the screen and your dad is too busy going off on a tenant over something that’s barely registering in your focus, because your head is still cloudy with coming down—and trying to right your breath without your dad noticing, which is harder said than done; your panties sticking uncomfortably to you now that you’ve ruined them even more.

The heat from him as he leans close to you, lips to the shell of your ear, only reigniting those just sedated aches, as he speaks in a whisper. “You’re not off the hook. My kindness comes with a price and you’re going to pay for it until you’re begging for me to take it away.”

[raayllum]

I know you've made a lot of metas about rayllum before and answered a lot of asks about them. I remember seeing a post by @/redhairedmonkey talking about parent figures affecting the main characters. I wonder, if both sets of parents were alive OR y'know if their parents differed from canon and thus changed their personalities, would they still have fallen in love?

So I don't agree with RHM's meta takes as much as I used to (which, taking a quick look at said parental post, it doesn't really line up with my interpretations, which is fine - just establishing my own bearings). So my take away here of how those alternatives would go is gonna be different, which is the beauty of fandom, so feel free to take all that subjectivity into account and settle somewhere in the middle or wherever you want, lol. This is also going to talk about how I personally approach fic writing, particularly AU-work, as well. Again, not "correct" or anything, just how I think of it.

Basically when I look at a character, I try to find what I consider to be their un-transmutable traits - what has to be there, for lack of a better term/concept, for them to still feel like themselves. It's useful in figuring out canon characterization as well, seeing how tugging or stretching a given aspect of a backstory can affect them in small ways. This is one of the reasons why I'm so adamant about tracing things back to lines, reactions, and/or themes in canon when it comes to writing characters, particularly since I started hardcore writing TDP fic post-s2 and had to extrapolate (and got a lot right, rewardingly enough!)

For Callum, while his insecurities (specifically regarding being 'good' at things) impact him emotionally, they don't heavily impact his relationships. By this I mean is that 1) Callum is always pretty comfortable with possibly failing (in low stakes scenarios) or looking dumb in front of people and 2) when he does have an outburst regarding his own perceived 'inability,' it happens once and is punctuated by a lot of other things going on in 2x07. However, Callum's 'fixer' tendencies and his frustration when he can't fix things (which is where the frustration about being 'useless' is usually stemming from) do affect his relationships, either in him blowing up at someone (typically Ezran esp in 1x01) or in causing him to do reckless things so he has a chance to contribute (2x04).

Rayla is a little more straight forward because so much of her comes from the Silvergrove's general culture, not just her various sets of parents (there's a reason one of my nicknames for her is "guilt complex from birth") but I'll do a quick run down of what I think would change about them depending on who raised them, etc.

If Sarai had survived instead of Harrow

I actually think the things that Callum has as flaws would be worse, in some ways, than they are in canon, if only his mother lived. Think of it this way: Callum's struggle to find a way to be useful and his worries over not being able to protect his loved ones is a big driving factor from the start of the series (end of 1x01) to the S3 finale (3x09 with the cliff). He'd be more confident, for sure - he grew up with a parent he's far more comfortable with - but I also think watching his mother lose two husbands, her taking on her husband's throne by herself and still with baby Ezran... Callum was parentified in his relationship with Ezran and awkward in his relationship with Harrow; he wanted to protect Harrow in 1x01 yes, but he didn't want to take care of Harrow, they were never close or old enough for that. But I think he'd parentify himself with both Ezran and Sarai if she'd been widowed again.

He wants to take care of his mom, he wants to take care of the baby, he wants to prove he's a good prince even more because that his dead step-father's shoes to fill and his mother needs help! So I think Callum would be better off prince wise but worse off emotions wise, more likely to bottle things up from his mother and his brother because they have enough on their plate, don't they?

Sarai would try and curb this, but once a kid has their mind made up, there's not a ton you can to do deter them (and she'd be busy, right - possibly gearing for peace with Xadia, too).

This means that Rayla still provides a unique peer that Callum needs, someone he can confide in ways he couldn't growing up with his family, similar to canon, even if he might be a bit more anxious and wear his heart a little less on his sleeve. I think canon!Rayla would be a bit warier of him, but also recognize some of herself in him in that way, so she'd warm up to him just as fast as she did, and Callum would get a fucking break for once.

If both Harrow and Sarai survived

Callum would grow up in the most well-adjusted place. He'd have the full backing of his mother's confidence to help cultivate his relationship with Harrow, and their equal tutelage. It also means he'd be parentified less in his relationship with Ezran and more of a pure big brother figure. I've actually co-written a fic like this (with some other variants) so a lot of what I think would change is there. But overall you have Callum being friendly, still a little a grounded, probably a more mellowed out temper by the time he's like 16, even if he still feels like something is missing that fulfils his natural curiosity, because one of Callum's un-transmutable traits to me is his curiosity, for sure.

If Rayla had been raised by Lain and Tiadrin instead of Runaan and Ethari

Like I mentioned previously, a lot of what Rayla internalized was general Moonshadow elf things: largely combative occupations, showing no fear, etc. Bloodmoon Huntress has also given us a glimpse into what she was like before her parents left for the Dragonguard as well, confirming what I've suspected since S1 of tiny Rayla being a lonely, frankly friendless child. I don't think this necessarily would've changed if they'd stayed, although I do think she would've had more strong acquaintances and some more casual friendships than she did, being a very intense and dedicated little assassin from a young age. Also means that Rayla doesn't have her abandonment issues - but she could still choose to be an assassin in a world where Runaan is an uncle, maybe, and dangers are lurking at the border.

I actually think this Rayla would be a worse assassin than she is in canon, perhaps to the point Runaan doesn't even bring her on the mission at all, because she doesn't have the personal edge or anger/shame that was fuelling her before in canon in trying to make up for her parents' mistakes.

Honestly - and this is partially informed by what I've seen of abusive families - parents affect their children's levels of confidence and comfort and trauma, but parents do not guarantee their child's core personality. A person's personality is not something that is completely nurtured; there is something innate and unique to them, a nature, that then either is nurtured effectively or is something they must maintain amid a harsher and more toxic environment. 

So - and this is just general now, it’s not meant to be specific - even if Callum and Rayla's parents were 100% different people in basically every way, saying that Callum and Rayla would be completely different is... not necessarily true and kind of a pointless argument that can lead to like, y'know the fics where it feels like it's a husk of the canon character with their name painted on? Yeah. Because if there is no unchangeable essence of them as characters, something that is them regardless of any circumstance, then... what are we even doing from a meta standpoint?

Anyway -- to answer your actual question: yes, I think in basically every universe, Callum and Rayla would fall for each other given enough time. The few I think (or have written) where they wouldn't is if they simply met too late in life and were already committed to other people / spouses, and would instead have an equally strong and fulfilling friendship. Given the opportunity to have an impact on each other, I think that impact would only be positive, ultimately, long term, due to what they would struggle to learn or possibly never learn without each other if they had never met.

They very much have the same Platonic Soulmates, Naturally Complementary Halves thing Ezran and Zym have going on, from a Narrative standpoint (post about it here) and I love it very very much.

[quietmyfearswith]

kinktober day 5 — breeding kink

kink — breeding kink   pairing —helmut zemo x fem!reader   warnings — MINORS DNI, breeding kink, dirty talk, a bit of powerplay/dynamics?? mentions of pee (not water sports) angst?? fluff?? a/n — this isnt canon with the mcu. in this universe zemo doesnt bomb the un and take his revenge so yeah word count — 1,884 words

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Following the burial of his family, Zemo sat quietly in his office — in a few days he would be meeting with the fellow world leaders about the events that transpired in Sokovia and the reparations he deemed necessary. Truthfully, the moment the baron found out about the ill fate his family met he almost forgot that he had other obligations to his people and was already formulating a plan on how to get back to the Avengers for taking away everything he dearly loved and cared for.

“I prepared some cherry blossom tea for you this afternoon, Baron,” Her voice snapped him out of his trance, shifting his gaze from the window to her approaching figure that was carrying a tray of tea with some biscuits, “There are some biscuits and cookies in here.” She gently placed the said items on the table and put her hands in the pockets of her skirt, “Is there something else you needed?”

Anticipating his every need and want was what she was hired to do — and to say she went above and beyond in doing so is an understatement. Just as he was about to tread towards a treacherous path, she steered him away from the flamed path and showed him where the greener pasture was.

Just as he was in the beginning phase of his plan of revenge, she knocked on the door that evening and was displeased to see his hair all ruffled up due to how hard he was thinking. “If I may, Baron, I know that you are hurting and that grief can push us to do unimaginable things, but I assure you that Heike, Carl, and your father would not approve of what you are planning to do.”

Enraged, he lunged towards her and pinned her against the wall, “Are you not just some maid I pay for to follow everything I order you to do? Where is it in your job description that you get to tell me what to do?” If it was any other person, they would cower away upon seeing how dark his eyes were and how the vein in his neck was about to pop due to the fury built up inside of him. But Y/N knew that he would never do anything to hurt him, he wasn’t the kind of boss to do so.

“Yes, that is what a maid usually does,” She calmly agreed, lowering his hands that were on her shoulders and lovingly rubbing the back of his palms as she spoke, “But as a maid, it is also my duty to ensure that your overall well-being is being taken care of.”

His hold and stare at her softened as he swallowed, unsure of how he was to reply with a statement that had so much care in it, “Losing your family surely feels like the end of the world, right?” He nodded as he looked down at where their hands were still intertwined, finding solace in her touch and in her comforting words, “But don’t forget that you have a bigger one, the Sokovian survivors. They are looking for someone to look up to, to guide them out of these dark times they are in,” The baron had to bite back a whimper when on of her hands detangled from his, but was relieved to feel her warmth spread through his chin as he lifted his head up and looked at her as if she was giving him strength, “They’re waiting for you to lead the way, Baron. Lead your family.”

There was something about her words and the way she said them that stirred inside him as his hands were cupping her cheeks, “Lead my family? Guide them? Is that what you want me to do instead?”

She nodded wordlessly, and Zemo had an evil smirk on his face, “What kind of baron would I be if I didn’t have any heirs? Heirs that would continue my mission of taking care of the Sokovians,” She shrugged her shoulders, it’s not like she fully agreed with his train of thought, she was just glad she was able to remove the idea of destroying the Avengers in his mind. His hand was now falling down from her cheeks to her arms as he leaned over until his mouth was pressing a light kiss on her ear, “And I cannot have heirs if I don’t have a baroness beside me.”

“I’m sure Catherine of Scotland, the one you met a few years ago, will remain eager than ever to accept your proposal of marriage.”

Smirking as his hands now ripped the dress uniform she wore into two, “I’m talking about you, my little baroness,” He made quick work of pinching her nipples; her whimper fueling his desire for her even more, “I’m gonna breed you and you will carry my child,” He pushed her by her shoulders again, planting her against the wall as he made quick work of ripping her underwear, widening her stance as he kicked her feet gently and made quick work of freeing his now erect cock from his slacks, “Would you do all those for me, my baroness?”

Choosing to show her compliance with his plan, she planted her lips against his, kissing him as if her life depended on it. Pleased with her non-verbal response, he then shoved his cock deep in her; upon thrusting in his cock, he was immediately met with her walls clamping down on him tightly, juices starting to flow.

“Fuck, schatz,” He breathed out against her lips as he gradually sped up his pace until the tip of his cock repeatedly poked into her sweet spot, “You were made for me hm? Made to my baroness, to take my seed?”

“Will do anything for you, baron,” She moaned out, her nails clawing against the material of his shirt, her lips panting against his ear as she moaned out so beautifully, “Want to have your seed deep inside me, baron.”

It had been such a long time since she had slept with someone — let alone made herself cum  that her orgasm erupted out of nowhere; her walls clamped down on Zemo’s thick cock that it made it laborious for the Sokovian royalty to ram his cock in and out of her as she dampened his cock with her juices.

“Oh my baroness, did you think you could cum without asking permission first?” Somehow, she managed to will her eyes to focus on his face, her fingers traced over his jaw as she absentmindedly surrendered her body for his use and pleasure.

“But I will let it slide for now,” He was whipped, there was no other way to describe it; the moisture her juices provided made it easier for him to slam in and out of her faster and harder. The softness of her fingertips felt amazing against the skin of his neck as she rubbed the skin, while she kissed his cheeks over and over. “Are you trying to get me to come too? Are you that eager to have my seed in you?”

“Want your seed planted deep in me, baron,” She confessed as she panted shallowly upon feeling his relentless thrusts into her; having edged himself long enough, he decided that their next sexual adventure would last longer than how they were going right now, “Fuck, my baroness, take all of me. Take all of my cum,” Was all the warning Zemo could offer as he came deep in her. Her cervix had been opened earlier as she came, his seed swimming deep inside her that when he pulled out of her slowly, not a single ounce escaped her tight hole.

Stroking her cheek gently as he sat her in his lap, he looked at her with a softer gaze now, “Will you be my baroness? I promise to care for you and love you.”

“I’m not just some rebound? Or a surrogate for your heir?”

It was evident in her voice that she was still uneasy and somewhat insecure with the setup — considering how Zemo had just lost his family and could just be feeling grief and want to replace the family that he just lost.

Smiling at her with utmost love and affection he can muster and shake his head, “You are not just a surrogate or a rebound. Truth be told, I’ve always looked at you with affection. You always go above and beyond with your duties and the way you took care of Carl made me fall for you even more. I want you, all of you.”

Flustered at his statement, she nodded and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips then pulled away briefly. “I love the sound of that, my baron.”

A warm hand of his rested on her stomach, “I cannot wait until

*

“How many times must I tell you that there is no need for you to address me as baron?” Zemo smirked at her as he patted his lap; she took it as her cue to plant herself on his comfortable lap, kissing his cheek as her lips had a smirk of her own.

“I like the look you give me when I call you that though,” She countered softly as she fed him one of those butter cookies. As he nibbled on the biscuit, there were some bread crumbs that escaped his lips, “After all these months I still have to look after you hm?”

“You may not be officially my maid, you still have to care for me I’m afraid,” He snickered when she handed him a cloth to wipe. Upon wiping his chin off of the dirt, he noticed that it was bulky and frowned in confusion, “What is this?”

Upon opening the folded napkin, the baron was met with a positive pregnancy stick; he looked at Y/N with watery eyes, “I am very much hoping that this is yours?”

Nodding her head with a soft smile she confirmed his suspicion, “That is mine, and don’t worry I cleaned the pee off of it.” Her joke caused him to erupt in laughter as he pressed a passionate kiss to her lips, “Not once did that cross my mind, my baroness.” He reassured her once they ended their kiss.

“I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow, I was hoping that you would accompany me?”

“I’ll have my schedule cleared tomorrow, don’t worry,” He rubbed her stomach lovingly, as if there was already a forming bump in there, “You know our baby’s arrival to the world will line up perfectly with the anniversary of Sokovia’s Rebirth.”

She tilted her head as she thought about it before nodding her head with an eager smile, “It will, wouldn't it?”

“In a way, it is our quest for a child that prompted Sokovia’s rebirth and our relationship, no?” She nodded and pressed another sweet kiss to his lips. A wicked grin now was on his lips as the hand on her stomach lowered down until he was now rubbing the glowing skin of her thighs, “Why don’t we practice for the next time we’ll have another baby huh?”

Biting her lip in arousal, she shyly nodded as her hands rubbed his cheeks with desire, “I like the sound of that, baron.”

[manonblaqkbeak]

Friendship Rekindled

Hello, back for Day 10--single parents. This is the second part of a mini series during canon week. this is continuing off from Day 1--desperately in love. there’s going to be two more parts and i cant wait to get them out there!

i think this could be considered a little angsty, given some of the conversation topics that happen.

cw: brief mention of death and blood loss. mention of an abusive parent. (if i miss any, pls dont hesitate to let me know!)

enjoy! :)

2.9k words (my longest fic yet i believe)

It was nice to be finally out of the house, Aelin decided as she walked up to the nursery, her five month old daughter, Olive, strapped to her chest. After being cooped up for what felt like the last five months, Aelin had decided to liven up her apartment with some plants.

Hardy, un-killable plants, that is. Being a single mother didn't leave her much time to look after other things, so she needed some plants that required minimal water, but also had to be pretty to look at.

It was also a plus that there was a cafe attached to the nursery, and she heard that they served the best scones with homemade strawberry jam and cream in Orynth. All her life she had never come here, but she needed somewhere new to visit. And to reacquaint herself with her home town. Not long after Rowan and Lyria's wedding, Aelin had transferred to Rifthold for work, and had used the miles apart to quietly disappear from their lives.

That was four years ago now, and come back home to be closer to her parents. Aelin had never known her grandparents, and Aelin didn't want to deny her parents the privilege of knowing Olive, so she had transferred back just before she went on maternity leave. Aelin was happy to be back, especially since she hadn't seen Rowan or Lyria. The last she heard was from Elide, who got it from Lorcan, that a year after marriage, they were expecting. She was happy for them, she truly was, but that didn't stop the stab of pain she felt when she heard the news. She had dreamt of her being in Lyria's position for a few weeks after she heard the news, but forced herself to stop. To move on.

Aelin had, in a way. She would always love Rowan, but she needed to move on. It was wrong to consider her daughter a distraction, but she did provide the perfect one. Aelin briefly removed her lemon printed bucket-hat (Aelin wore a matching one) to kiss her head, her golden hair sparse, laughing her perfect baby laugh.

Aelin finally entered the nursery, tugging her nappy bag higher on her shoulder as she took in the hundreds of plants. She had no idea where to start, but started her browse. She slowly walked through the fern section, stopping every now and then to let Olive touch one, making the cute hand grabbing motion when she saw one she liked.

Aelin heard the laughter of a young child behind her, and then a deep and familiar one accompany it.

Aelin froze. It couldn't be. Surely the Gods weren't that cruel. Months she had been here, for the first time in ages she had decided to do something for herself, only to be met by that damned laughter.

Slowly she turned, her sandals making the gravel underneath crunch. She saw a flash of silver and a broad body.

Turning around had been a mistake, because when she did, so did the silver-haired man.

And for the first time in four years, turquoise eyes landed on pine-green ones.

Rowan blinked, and then blinked again as he took her in. His eyes widened as he noticed Olive strapped to her body, her face on display as she took in her surroundings. Her baby had the chocolate brown eyes of her father, but it was clear to anyone that knew Aelin that Olive was hers. Her daughter had Aelin's nose and hair colour, and would likely grow to have more of Aelin's features as the years went by.

Behind Rowan, his cousin Enda was holding the hand of a brown-haired boy. It was difficult to tell his exact age, but he looked to be about three. If Rowan was here with his son, then it was a good chance that Lyria would be here, too. The woman was a flower enthusiast, and was practically a walking encyclopedia when it came to flowers. Any questions anyone had, they went to Lyria.

Aelin really did not want to be here. Did not want to have that conversation of why the hell she had left and dropped all communication with them after the wedding.

Aelin hated it, but she adverted her gaze and started to leave. She would have to come here another day—maybe after she called the office to make sure that there was no silver-haired man in attendance.

“Aelin,” Rowan said, his voice raspy from surprise. Gods, she missed his deep voice and the rolling purr of his accent.

Aelin pretended that she didn't hear and made a beeline for the exit. Rowan called her again, and then a third time. Just as she reached the gate, his warm hand landed on her shoulder gently. His hands were still calloused, his hands always doing some type of manual labour work. She wondered briefly if he was still an auto mechanic.

Turning around, Aelin noted the shock in his dark eyes. She gave him a weak smile, not sure what to say.

“What are you—I mean, how are you? Where have you been?”

“I'm good,” Aelin answered after a moment, not really sure how else to respond. “I've been around. What about you?” Somehow, these questions didn't feel like the right ones to ask. Before Rowan could say anything, Olive made herself known, making grunting sounds that meant she wanted attention, so Aelin kissed her hand and said to Rowan, “This is Olive.”

Rowan's eyes dropped down to Olive. “Is she yours?”

Aelin snorted, a sound she hadn't made in so long. It was something she often did around Rowan—or used to, that is. “No, I bought her from the store. Yes, she's mine.”

Rowan's eyes dropped lower, to her ring finger—her empty ring finger. There had never been a ring there. Aelin's traitorous eyes drifted to Rowan's and her heart stopped when she noticed that his ring finger was bare as well—that there was no tan line to suggest that he had only recently removed it.

“I'm doing this on my own,” Aelin found herself saying after a moment.

“As am I,” Rowan said. Aelin cocked her head to the side, annoyed at herself for being curious. “Lyria...Lyria passed away three years ago.”

Aelin's heart shot up to her throat, choking her. Years ago, Aelin had horribly wished that the ring Rowan had purchased was secretly for her and was heartbroken when it wasn't.  In her loneliest moments, she had wished that Rowan and Lyria would break up and somehow find his way to her in Rifthold; but never, never-ever in a million years would she ever have wanted this to happen.

Why the hell hadn't Elide told her? Or anyone else for that matter?

Aelin found her voice after long minutes of just staring at him, processing his words. “Rowan, I am so rutting sorry. I had no idea. Are you...are you okay?”

“I have my good and bad days”. He pointed to the brown-haired boy with Enda, who were both busy inspecting each leaf and flower petal in front of them. “That's Egan, he's a plant lover like his mother.”

Aelin couldn't really see him, but she still said, “He's adorable.”

“He is, and a little terror,” Rowan said, a small smile on his tanned face. After a moment, he turned back to her, and asked, “Are you...doing anything? I'd like to talk, it's been a long time since we have.”

She should say no, but she ended up saying yes.

Taking a deep breath, she followed Rowan back inside the nursery and to the cafe.

X X X X X X

It was turning out to be an ordinary Saturday when Rowan had needed to get out of the house, so he asked Egan if he wanted to go to the nursery and his son had enthusiastically agreed, asking if Uncle Enda could join them. Thankfully, his cousin was free and more than happy to spend time with his nephew.

Never in a million years did he think he would run into Aelin. He had heard the rumours that she transferred back to the publishing house and that was it; there was no mention of her being pregnant. But when Rowan looked up and spotted Aelin, and his eyes immediately dropped to the baby strapped to her chest, his heart had stopped.

He had once wished to have that life with Aelin, exploring the world with their child, one that had Aelin's hair and his eyes; but Rowan never told Aelin how he felt because he knew how badly her last relationship ended, and he didn't want to put any unnecessary stress on her if she didn't feel the same way. Didn't want there to be any chance to ruin their friendship.

And so, he had moved on. Had started dating Lyria and came to love her, but not the same way as he loved Aelin. And when Rowan proposed, he had only done it because his parents were getting older and wanted him to get married, wanted him to have a grandchild.

It was cruel irony that they had both died before Lyria had even given birth.

He was bastard, and he hated himself. Lyria was kind, sweet and gentle—and deserved someone better than him, should have been with a man that truly wanted to marry her for her and not because of family pressures. But he never stopped himself from their relationship moving forward.

But he was doing better, thanks to therapy, because while he may have been a bastard, he didn't want his son to know that. Maybe it made him a bastard to hide this part of himself to his son, but his son was gentle like his mother and Rowan loathed the idea of Egan growing up to hate him.

And as Rowan asked Enda to take Egan home, Rowan could see that Enda thought that this lunch was a bad idea—Rowan had confessed his secrets to his cousin long ago, how he loved Aelin even when he was married to Lyria. How he had wanted that life with her instead.

Rowan knew that he was going to be on the end of a scolding conversation when he got back to his house, but he told Enda that it was going to be okay and that he was fine and could handle this.

Enda sighed heavily through his nose and muttered a 'good luck' under his breath. Rowan planted a kiss of Egan's head and told him that he would be home soon. His son was too excited to spend time with his Uncle to really notice.

When Rowan returned to Aelin's side, they soon found a nice spot in the cafe that was away from others.

It was...painfully awkward for a good while. They only spoke to order their food—scones with jam and cream with a side dish of seasonal fruits for Aelin, and a steak sandwich with fries for Rowan—and then lapsed back into silence.

They ate in silence, too, and Rowan wondered if maybe this was a tremendously bad idea when Aelin said, softly but not weakly, “What happened to Lyria?”

Taking a deep breath, Rowan swirled his fries in the mustard on his plate. He hated this part. “She passed away not long after giving birth. She hemorrhaged and bleed out too quickly for anything to be done. Egan never really got to meet her.”

“I'm sorry,” Aelin said, doing her best to speak over the lump in her throat, “that's horrible. I'm so sorry.”

Years later and Rowan still never really knew what to say to that. Needing to distract himself, he asked, “So, what's your story?”

Before she could say anything, Olive started crying, and without a seconds hesitation, Aelin started feeding her. Some people stared in disapproval and Aelin stared right back, unflinching. He knew that if someone said something, she would spit back. It never made sense to Rowan how people frowned upon breastfeeding. A small smile made its way to Rowan's mouth at the steely look in her stunning eyes. That was the Aelin he knew and loved.

When the strangers turned back around, Aelin looked back at him, the steel in her eyes softening. “I briefly dated my high school boyfriend, Sam, for a while back in Rifthold, and well...the condom broke and Olive made her appearance.” Not the most elegant way to describe the situation, but Aelin figured she had years to think of a better way to explain Olive's appearance if her daughter ever asked.

“And he wants no part of it?” He had no right to ask, but the question left his mouth before he could stop it.

Aelin sighed, and finished feeding Olive and cleaning themselves up before responding. “It's complicated...Sam's father, Arobynn, is a cruel man. He's manipulative and sadistic, but knows how to turn on the charm when it suits him. Sam has been scared of him his entire life, and didn't want Olive to know the fear that he did. So, every month Sam sends money, but he's not on the birth certificate—he doesn't want there to be any paper trails leading to Olive's existence. I had to convince him that it was safer to transfer me the money than to send it through the mail. I send him pictures from time to time, but whether he saves them, I have no idea.” Not to mention the miserable length of the conversation of sending money electronically. Sam was so damned paranoid that Arobynn checked his accounts that Aelin had almost told him not to bother to send anything when he relented. Aelin could provide Olive well enough on her own, but it was helpful to have that extra bit of cash—baby things were expensive as hell.

Aelin bit her lip. She hadn't meant to divulge that much, no one knew that, not even her best friends,  but she didn't regret it. It felt...like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

“That's awful, Aelin, I'm sorry to hear that.”

“I just...” She probably shouldn't ask, but out of everyone she knew, none of them were single parents. “Has Egan ever asked about his mother? What do you say to that?”

“He's asked a few times, and I've told him that she passed away when he was little, but I don't think he fully understands what I'm talking about.” Those conversations were the hardest that he ever had to go through, and he knew it would be worst when Egan grew and fully understood what death meant.

“I have no idea what I'll tell Olive when she's older and asks about her dad,” Aelin admitted. “It's not like he's gone, but he is absent and I just...what if she grows up to think he hates her? I think that would kill me if she ever thought that.”

Without thinking, Rowan reached over and too her hand in his. Her hand was soft in his, and he swiped his thumb against her knuckles. “You have a good few years to worry about that. Who knows,” he added, “maybe Sam will be able to get out from his father's shadows and you three can be a family.”

A small smile made its way to Aelin's face. She was more beautiful then he remembered, and he wasn't sure if he should feel guilty for thinking that.

“I like the sound of that, but I'm not going to get my hopes up. I'd like to think that I can do this on my own.”

“You can, but if you'd like...if you ever need help with something, if you need someone to look after Olive, I could do that for you.”

Silver lined Aelin's eyes as she watched him. “Are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude.”

“That's what friends are for, aren't they? To help?” And as a single parent himself, he knew how hard it could be raising a child in this hectic world.

Aelin's smile grew. “Okay, I'll keep that in mind. And if we're friends, could you help me find some plants? I'm sick of looking at my boring walls.”

“Okay, I know the perfect ones for you to get—ones that are practically impossible to kill.”

“I'm going to ignore that implication that I can't look after a plant.” Although it was true.

Rowan snorted. “Because you can't. I remember that poor aloe Vera plant that you slaughtered.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes, but he could see just a hint of mirth behind the glare. “I did not slaughter that plant, it just didn't like me!”

Rowan laughed and it was the most freeing sound he made in a long time. After he calmed down, he said, “Come on, let's finish here and I'll help you to liven up your place.”

“Fine, but I better not hear anything about my poor gardening skills or I'll let down your tires.” And she would, he knew, but Rowan just smiled even more.

“It's a deal.”

The conversation moved much more smoothly and Rowan realised how much he missed her. And Aelin realised how much she missed him, too.

Maybe things wouldn't be too bad after-all. It would be nice to have Rowan in her life again, even as a friend, even if she still loved him and knew it could never be, not after everything.

[acceptsonlynttnightwing]

The idea that any one group of fans that came to love a character from a specific canon as a starting point are quote un quote the worst is just generalization and gatekeeping. There are bad fans in all camps and often the issue is more people not being willing to engage with other interpretations of a fictional character. Or fans being upset new people don't have the same experience and punishing them for being new. There is the same love and dedication and protection in all Roy fans. When all you do is complain of course or see things you dislike that mean a lot to others of course you won't have a good time. Just work with fans and do more 'yes and' or give them ideas for aus. Some fans think Jason and Roy wouldn't naturally get along but if you frame that as 'there should be more enemies to lovers' fic and not for example 'I can't stand how these fans make these to characters friends' you will get content you like and have a good time.   

---

I'm sorry, I know you're trying to be helpful, but I think you missed the point of my previous posts - it's not that I dislike Jason and Roy, I dislike Jason and Roy when writers completely rewrite Roy so he can fit into the role of Jason's sidekick. Because the real, hero-almost-as-long-as-Dick, father-to-a-five-year-old, founder and occasional leader of the ntt and Outsiders and multiple time member of the JL, wouldn't fit into the new Jason & Roy stories. So they erase 50 years worth of history for a comic as bad as the Outlaws?? What kind of Roy fan would be happy with that?

RHATO does the same to Kori, so Jason's the only character who actually benefits from it, hence the criticism of RHATO Jason.

As for what you said about suggesting something else, the gist of my post was 'there should be more Roy fics that take into account his actual history and canon relationships'. I think you missed my point a bit: I only criticised Jason so far as the Outlaws being the reason for Roy's plummet into stupidity.

The Rebirth Outlaws for example don't have the same problem - Bizzaro and Artemis are newer characters. Lobell didn't rewrite over 50 years of comics over hundreds of issues in a few short recons. Or turn the only female character into a hot amnesiac into free sex who couldn't remember 6/7 year long friendships because her kind forget fast??

Lobell went out of his way to shit on the Titans, and that's not something I particularly enjoy? Plus, it was really dumb? Like, Dick and Jason met fighting over a bed?? And the Titans kicked Roy out for being an ALCOHOLIC??

1. Addictions aren't just substitutable!

2. You mean the same titans who helped him get clean and take care of his kid? Every other comic had either Dinah or Dick or Hal (I think?) be the ones who got/forced Roy into Rehab. Not Killer Croc of all people!?

3. Ollie really wasn't anywhere as bad as he was portrayed?? Like, yes, he kicked Roy out when he found out about his addiction, but he went after him and apologised by the end of the same arc?? And he acknowledged what he did wrong and that it would take Roy time to forgive him. And Roy was allowed to take time to do so. And he did! Over the years, Ollie kept trying and Roy forgave him! Also, Ollie never treated Roy as a disposable soldier! Neither did Silver!Bruce actually, but that's a whole other story.

I don't think it's possible for me to engage with ANY RHATO interpretation of Roy or Kori and most other older fans I know say the same.

Also, how many people come away from RHATO as Roy or Kori fans? I can't imagine it's a large segment. And if they were, I'm assuming they'd read literally anything else that features them and realise how much better it is.

Sorry for the rant, but please feel free to message me if you have any questions.