#would anyone be interested in seeing the entire snippet?

[nani-nonny]

Hehe I’d be freaked out too if my enemy escaped Leo’s endless portal loop like Samara from the Ring /j

(Temporary They/Them pronounce for Big Mama Assistant :D)

The Hamato brothers make the frightening realization that the Assistant’s hands are aglow in a raging green fire. The green flames flicker as They grip the edges of Leo’s portal ring, claws somehow managing to pierce the blue energy as if it were a physical object to grab. With trembling grip, the Assistant has caught Themself from trailing endlessly through Leo’s portal loop. Straining to pull Themself out of the portal like a higher being unable to be contained.

“Omigosh, what do we do?” Mikey panics, unable to move from his spot next to his brothers.

“Oh, that is a new kind of freaky,” Raph exclaims with a shiver.

“Eugh, that is not what you want to see,” Donnie remarks as he grips tighter to his TechBo.

Leo glances over his shoulder at Donnie, hoping for some kind of answer as he asks in a panicked tone, “Is that supposed to happen?!”

[bananasplit133]

Hi, I was wondering if you could write what it would be like for Mark with a Kryptonian gf. You can make it a fic or hcs idk. I just need more stuffs of him 😭😭

OHHHHH this is such a fun concept, anon!!!

A Kryptonian s/o for Sinister Mark would be such an interesting dynamic, especially with how powerful and independent she’d be......

Heres a mix of headcanons and a short fic snippet :D

---

Sinister Mark x Kryptonian!Reader Headcanons

Power Show-Offs (heh...) – Mark isn’t used to anyone being able to match him, let alone challenge him. The first time he realizes you’re Kryptonian, he’s genuinely impressed. He’ll never admit it out loud, but it’s rare for him to meet someone who isn’t fragile in comparison. He still assumes he’s stronger, though. You may have to prove him wrong.

Fighting for fun – Fighting with you is one of the only things that makes him feel alive. You can take his punches without turning into paste, and it’s honestly exhilarating. He plays dirty, but you give it right back. Sometimes, you two get so lost in fighting that entire city blocks suffer.

Ego Clashes – He’s Mark Grayson, and he’s not used to people questioning his authority. But you? You’re not afraid of him. You challenge his decisions, make him rethink things. It pisses him off so much, but deep down, he likes it.

Dark Temptations– You’re not just powerful, you’re intelligent. Mark sees potential in you, and part of him wants you on his side. He’s constantly pushing to see just how much you’re willing to bend. “You could rule this world with me,” he muses once, watching you carefully. You only scoff in response—for now.

Possessive Tendencies – Mark doesn’t trust easily, but with you, there’s a different kind of paranoia. You’re his equal, and he knows what that means. If anyone ever tried to take you from him, he wouldn’t just be angry—he’d be ruthless.

Late-Night Conversations ; ) – When he’s not being the terrifying ruler of the planet, there are rare moments of quiet between you two. He’ll sit with you in the stratosphere, just floating in silence. He doesn’t need to fill the air with empty words—you’re one of the few people who gets it.

---

Short Fic Snippet!!!

The punch sent you both crashing through three buildings before you caught yourself mid-air, eyes glowing red-hot. Below, Mark wiped blood from his lip, grinning.

"That all you got?" he taunted, voice edged with amusement.

You rolled your shoulders, hovering just above him. "You want me to actually try?"

Mark launched at you, but this time, you were faster. You twisted in the air, catching his wrist and slamming him into the pavement so hard it cracked open like shattered glass. His laugh was breathless, almost exhilarated.

"Not bad," he admitted, glancing up at you through tousled black hair. His eyes gleamed with something dangerous. Interest.

You landed beside him, arms crossed. "You enjoy getting your ass kicked, or is this some kind of Viltrumite mating ritual?"

He chuckled, sitting up. "If it was, you’d know by now."

Your lips twitched, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a smile. Instead, you extended a hand, which he took after a beat. The moment he was upright, he leaned in, voice dropping lower.

"You ever get tired of playing hero, you know where to find me."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t deny the way his words lingered in your mind longer than they should.

---

thanks for the request!!!!

[skyrim-forever]

WIP Wednesday

Hi everyone, would you believe it's wednesday again? Thank you to @umbracirrus @lady-iizsil and @theoneandonlysemla for the tags, lovely to see your wips <3

No pressure tagging:@pocket-vvardvark @changelingsandothernonsense @dirty-bosmer @sunsettemplar @firefly-factory @chiqita @labskeever @sanzas-reverie @captain-of-silvenar

@thequeenofthewinter @hircines-hunter @sulphuricgrin @scholarlyhermit @lucien-lachance @sunlightpassingthroughthewater @heavy-metal-dick

This week I have two wips, a snippet from Chapter 7 of Changing Tides (My Maormer OC x OC continuous story) and a little Parents! Theomar fic I need the motivation to work on. Up first is Theomar, specifically Dadmer <3 And then poor Odile waking up and not remembering fully what happened the day before </3

“Love, I know you are frustrated he isn’t going to the lessons, but have you considered he doesn’t want to? Maybe he’s not enjoying them.”

“It’s not a matter of what he wants,” the tone he speaks in is more forceful than he anticipated.  “There are obligations he has, as an Altmer, as a member of this family…” As my son, that part goes unspoken as uttering it aloud does not sit well with him. “He should not be ignorant to this half of himself.” Instead of continuing their delicate massage, Theodora’s hands abruptly stop as she clutches the sides of his face. Moving his gaze from the floor to her, craning his neck and he can see right away she is displeased at him. 

They were not the type to argue, a remarkable feat all things considered and one that would stay that way as he was not about to upset her further. 

“Do you hear yourself, Ondolemar?” Ouch. Not my love or my husband, but his name: cold and clear. “It’s not a matter of what he wants. That is rich coming from you.” Carefully, he tries to soothe the situation.

 “I am just concerned as we are here now and he shows no interest in learning about the Homeland.” Since he first laid eyes on him, the tiny baby he had not even known existed until he came to that craggy island, Ondolemar had wanted to show him their ancestral homeland. Do all the things he felt his own father neglected, be better, be present. 

“Your homeland.” That's what she says next. “It is your homeland, not his.” Theodora goes to walk away and he can’t help but reach out for her arm, trying to keep her nearby with a gentle touch. “Have you ever thought he might not feel welcomed here?” 

“Of course I have, that is why we have been thoroughly screening their instructors.” As well as the cooks, cleaners, gardeners. Anyone who would be in their space was ruthlessly screened in order to keep those with specific beliefs about those of mixed ancestry firmly away. As much as they could but, he’d be a fool to think they’d protected them entirely.

Changing Tides

It may be her being naive, both to the ways of the world and also to him. They barely knew each other, whose to say something hadn’t happened, even if she did not want it to. Her breath catches in her throat at the thought and the sleeping mer grunts in his sleep, his eyes blinking slowly as he awakens. Moving the arm across her pillow, he does a large stretch, seemingly paying her no mind; as if he is not surprised to find her there. The small inn room echos the sound of his knuckles cracking, then moving on to his arms and shoulders. After a quick crack of his neck, one that does make her wince a bit at how loud the sound was, he addresses her first, much to her surprise. 

“You sleep?” And she nods. 

“Did you sleep well?” He moves from the blanket to now be standing, and she is relieved to see he is in fact not naked, the armoured piece still around his waist. It must be uncomfortable to sleep in, she makes a mental note to prioritize getting him at least sleeping clothes. 

“Yes.” A soft smile dons her face and Odile can’t help but be happy to hear he slept well. The past day she never hesitated to reiterate to him how important it was, it was good to see he’d gotten some. 

“Take your time, we leave when you wish.” What?

Would it be anyone else, his words spoken through the mouth of one she would believe such kindness in, they would not have aroused suspicion. If anything, that net was cast wide as the Breton knew she was overly trusting, most were given more than the benefit of the doubt in her eyes. But him, him. The grumpy mer she’d known for not even two days at this point, who’d only been short with her, even rude on more than one occasion. Kynearth forgive me, she prays. But I just can’t believe this from him. So far he’d been so insistent on traveling as quickly as possible; save for getting a ride with Baelyn as apparently seeing someone else in charge of a boat was against his moral code. Good to know he has one I suppose. Everything else had been quick, must go, no need for rest even though she could see he was still in pain. For a moment, she hesitates to think it’s not like him, how can she know that in the limited time they’ve spent together. Yet, reflecting on her initial reaction, instantly hearing how bizarre it was to not have to fight with him, she decides it does not seem like him at all. Did he get a head injury? While she doesn’t mean to, the thought is spoken aloud. 

“Did you get a head injury?” Immediately her eyes are stuck at the ground, looking at the simple pattern that covered the area rug of their room. Crimson with ash-coloured floral motifs, quite lovely in her opinion. 

“What?” A sigh of relief. His question presents her with the chance to redeem herself, asking the intent in a better way. 

“Sorry, it’s just well, you’re being nice…” To me. That part goes unsaid. “I don’t mean to offend you but it’s a bit strange, I would have expected you to demand we leave now.” Thankfully, it does not appear that she’s hurt his feelings, instead the mer responses in a similar calm tone.

“Yesterday a lot, a lot was. I think you might be not… good.” What? What happened yesterday? What does he mean? The empty memories being to come back, only barely as she recalls something new. The face she had been at the bar with… it wasn’t him…

[screams-in-writing]

Oops my hands slipped again

The end of the smg4 movie struck me with inspiration.

Note for this snippet:

This could technically take place in the performance enhancing coffee au world, if I ever get to that point and it somehow works out. But I desperately wanted to write something with Mr. Wpnz and Mr. Puzzles in it and then I went. Ah yes. Lemme just Introduce that Mc to the former and freak out the latter yessss.

-x

Mr. Puzzles was deep in a conversation with his new…’friend’, a fellow by the name of Mr. Wpnz, who had provided Puzzles with quite the show for him to watch from afar. Quite a violent, action packed one at that! And at times, both heartbreaking and heartfelt. 

Oh, the way some of it had pulled at one’s emotions!

And with the name Mr. Wpnz, Puzzles couldn’t help but feel a certain kinship with some else who’d chosen to use ‘Mr’ as a part of their name.  

But that was a minute detail, at present. 

Right now, Mr. Puzzles engaged with this previously beaten-up mostly-mechanical being, now mostly put back together after puzzles had offered a hand in the ‘put back together phase’. After all, Mr. Puzzles had to maintain a partially mechanical body as well, though not one as mechanical as Mr. Wpnz. 

This meeting was the next step; it would be a test to see how this…friendship could pan out. 

With the newly put back together-recuperating weapons man who had all kinds of, well, weapons, packed everywhere on his person, Mr. Puzzles was certain the two of them could have quite a productive meeting.

Really.

How ever could that Karen not want to have such an interesting man about? Even with the violent tendency to fire upon others when things got, well, heated and dangerous, it seemed like Wpnz was someone who could have your back.

If properly motivated, of course. 

Mr. Puzzles sure did hope that he could convince Mr. Wpnz that he himself was a showman, a behind the scenes man, and not a fighter (at least not in the real world; Puzzles’ mind, however, was another matter altogether).

Of course, making any sort of progress in the conversation was dashed by the door suddenly being slammed open and someone very familiar to Mr. Puzzles yelled his name.

“PUZZLES WHERE IN THE WORLD HAVE YOU BEEN?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD THIS WHOLE TIME!”

Mr. Puzzles hastily reached out to press down on the gun Mr. Wpnz suddenly turned his hand into, already prepared to fire. 

“And here you are, conversing with some weapon toting weirdo in a dark warehouse?what the heck, Puzzles?” The voice continued on, upset. “Why didn’t you at least let me know you were alive?!”

“I thought there wasn’t supposed to be anyone here but us?” Wpnz growled under his breath at the tv-headed man as he moved his arm out of Puzzles’ grasp, deactivating it. 

“I have been…dating them, before that ah, incident occurred that I told you about. I had yet to inform them that I hadn’t ended up buried under all the rubble.” Mr. Puzzles spun and clapped his hands together as he flashed a nervous, uncertain technicolor smile your way. “Hello, my dear. It has been too long. I do so apologize for not contacting you straight away. I was not in the best of places. You know how I…got, at times, and I’d rather you not see me like that….”  Puzzles voice dropped low, nearly inaudible, and toneless, despite the smile he showed outwardly to you and Wpnz. “Still not in a good place, even now.” 

You looked like you weren’t entirely happy with his explanation. It was likely that you  understood he had been doing his best to not get carried away with his pursuit of a five star rating again, although the theme park HAD gotten a teensy-tiny bit out of hand and it had slipped his mind that you’d be worried about him and-

“-and how’d ya meet this guy? He as interestin’ with his tv shtick as he seems to imply?”

Mr. Puzzles stiffened, whipping his body around, tv head first, to show off an incredibly displeased expression. He didn’t bother to hold the twitching or the strained smile that appeared on his face.

How dare this weapon maniac so causally greet you! Mr. Wpnz didn’t know that you couldn’t be hurt like the rest of the denizens of this world could be. 

“Oh yes I remember!” Mr. Puzzles answered before you could, frantic to have you step away from Wpnz. “We met when I was at my lowest, languishing in recent defeat, and I was shown quite the kindness while I recovered, after some misunderstandings were cleared up. Made some friends in the process, and even a little something more.” Mr. Puzzles pointedly flashed a winning smile to you, hopeful, and continuing to really, really not like the way you were so close to a being more metal than flesh, even more than he. 

You gave Mr. Puzzles a searching look, then turned to Mr. Wpnz, and waved him down to whisper at him.

Puzzles bristled at this, but waited. 

Impatiently. 

He didn’t particularly care for the way that Wpnz began to smirk, his lips curving up and his sharp teeth baring in amusement at whatever you had said to him.

Oh…

No.

no no no.

Mr. Puzzles did not like that one bit. He was very tempted to take the pair of you into his television mind and keep Wpnz there while he attempted to sort things out with you and-

“You serious?” The incredulous tone was genuine; Wpnz was looking at you uncertainly now, all weapons pointed very carefully away from you as he reassessed something, even if he remained stooped. “That’s quite a claim. If it’s true, this ain’t a safe place for ya to be.”

You muttered something again.

…Mr. Puzzles really didn’t want Mr. Wpnz to know about your vulnerability here, but it seems you may have spilled the beans already. Puzzles was upset when you inexplicably allowed Mr. Wpnz to pick you up. Mr. Puzzles spluttered in response, until Wpnz hooked a thumb over a shoulder and the sudden noise that was not something Puzzles wanted to hear with you near.

Why in the world was there a random shootout with reptiles suddenly?

Mr. Puzzles was completely certain there had been no one around when he’d arranged this meeting with Wpnz.

“Get your stuck legs moving!” Mr. Wpnz called, suddenly some distance away with you.

Seeing you wave at him, Mr. Puzzles hastily pursued, long legs allowing him to keep up. At the very least, Wpnz was at least attempting to not jostle you as he ran along.

…perhaps not contacting you straight away to let you know he was still ‘alive’ hadn’t been the the best decision. (Don’t think about Wpnz being an assassin while the man was carrying you)

At least you were being taken away from danger, even if the rude bastard happens to shoot a weapon over his shoulder past Mr. Puzzles with unerring accuracy. 

Mr. Puzzles hadn’t expected the retaliation from the outset behind, and let out an undignified shriek when one of those reptiles shot in their general direction. Another gasp, this one of affront, at Mr. Wpnz’s audacity to backtrack and scoop Puzzles up, tossing him over a shoulder like he weighed nothing. 

“Don’t break my beautiful face!” Mr. Puzzles shouted over the gunfire that was getting closer. 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t break ya face, I heard ya the first time.”

Puzzles’ expression turned aggrieved at the way Wpnz held you in the crook of one arm, from the way your legs hung down, as Puzzles found himself looking backward at the ruckus going on. Then, Mr. Puzzles heard you laugh. A mix of an exhilarated ‘wtf is this’ laugh, and a ‘oh no I’m in danger’ nervous laugh. 

Hmm.

Well, he much preferred your laughter to any disappointment. Mr. Puzzles would have to use the time in this (humiliating) retreat to think of how to explain himself more than excuses.

-x

Another note:

The following is what happened later once all three of ‘em get to safety (with some ridiculousness), but I didn’t finish writing it out entirely because my eyes said no more to screen time atm:

MC, inexplicably brandishing the smaller Mr puzzles plush: how could you leave me and your son without knowing you were all right? (Joking around but Mc still upset they were meant to think puzzles was dead dead this past time).

Mr puzzles, absolutely floundering for a response: *utter confusion then faint amusement over the plush*

Mr. Wpnz, watching this familiar yet not familiar back and forth: *misses his wife and kids but knows he can’t have his shooting assassin career and them. Plus he’s bitter about what happened. Pushing away *those* thoughts to deal with at another time, Wpnz decides to be a shit* “yeah how could you?” Drops a hand on mc’s shoulder and shakes his head, motioning at the mc. “And to a face like that?”

‘that’ being mc’s pout of disappointment while still holding the plush of puzzles

Mr puzzles is scandalized that he’s being teamed up on and how dare you let that Wpnz so casually stand next to you (aka tv man doesn’t realize jealousy hitting him in the face)

Wpnz sees something is up but those thoughts are crowding in so he doesn’t notice the jealousy rising up off tv man

you notice it and dramatically lean against Wpnz while lamenting that it’s so difficult to go on in life without knowing if you were ever going to see him again.

puzzles is despairing when Wpnz plays along for nothing better to do.

Mc is just going ah yes new friend with a distressing amount of weapons who seems to know my tv man bf this will be interesting.

puzzles laments ever meeting with Wpnz as he would have rather you avoided meeting him.

[magical-reid]

The Yule Ball and the Sunflower

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: As Christmas approaches at Hogwarts, a student who had no interest in attending the Yule Ball finds herself captivated by mysterious, thoughtful love notes from an anonymous admirer. When the notes lead her to George Weasley, she discovers that the magic of the night—and the unexpected romance—was more real than she ever imagined.

It was almost Christmas at Hogwarts, and with it came the excitement surrounding the Yule Ball. The entire school seemed to be buzzing with anticipation as students chattered endlessly about their dresses, the possible dates, and the promise of a magical evening. Everywhere you went, you could hear snippets of conversations about hairdos, charms to make dresses shimmer, and, of course, who was going with whom.

I wasn't one of those people. I didn’t loathe the event, but I certainly didn’t understand the frenzy surrounding it. To be honest, I didn’t see the appeal. Sure, the idea of a grand ball in the midst of winter, the enchanted snowflakes falling gently from the ceiling, and the twinkling lights had its charm—but what was the point if you didn’t have someone to share it with? I had no reason to attend; there wasn’t anyone I particularly wanted to slow-dance with under the enchanted snowflakes. Watching couples twirl around the Great Hall, basking in their fairytale love stories, only reminded me of how far removed I felt from that kind of magic. It was hard to be part of the magic when you were just an observer.

Most of my friends seemed to be wrapped up in the excitement, though. Hermione was practically glowing as she made plans with Ron and Harry, and Ginny couldn’t stop talking about the dress she was planning to wear. But for me, the ball seemed like an event I’d pass on. I’d be perfectly content sitting by the fire in the Gryffindor common room with a good book, away from all the attention and romance that everyone else was so keen to celebrate.

As I walked through the crowded corridors one afternoon, I found myself next to Hermione, who was clutching a stack of books to her chest. She had a curious gleam in her eye, and I knew what was coming before she even opened her mouth.

“Are you going to the Yule Ball, Y/N?” she asked casually, though there was an unmistakable twinkle in her eye. It was as though she already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear it from me.

“Not likely,” I replied with a shrug, trying to sound indifferent. “Why would I? It’s just going to be couples showing off how in love they are. I’m perfectly fine staying in the common room with a good book.”

Hermione didn’t press further, though I could tell she wasn’t convinced. She gave me a pointed look before continuing down the hall, no doubt off to join Harry and Ron. I couldn’t help but notice the small frown that lingered on her face, though. She was concerned, I knew that, but I wasn’t in the mood for her matchmaking today.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the Yule Ball. It seemed like everyone was caught up in the whirlwind of it all—except for me. But little did I know, that would change soon enough.

The next morning, I was in the library, working on my Potions homework, when I noticed something unusual on my desk. There, on the corner of my textbook, was a single sunflower, vibrant and bright against the otherwise dull surroundings of the old parchment and ink. The petals seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the library, as though they were alive with magic. At first, I thought it might have been some sort of mistake, but as I looked closer, I noticed a small, folded piece of parchment tied to the stem.

Curious, I unfolded the note with trembling fingers. It was written in a typewriter-perfect script—each letter sharp and precise.

“Forgive the anonymity—I find I lack the courage to say these things in person. But I couldn’t let another moment pass without telling you how wonderful you are. The sunflower is no coincidence; I remember you once saying it’s your favorite. No roses, you said—they’re too predictable. You deserve more than roses. You deserve everything. I hope this makes you smile.

Yours, Someone who cares more than you know.”

My heart skipped a beat as I reread the note. The words were sweet, thoughtful, and incredibly personal. But who could have written it? I had no idea. The note said I already knew the person, but I couldn’t think of anyone who would have feelings for me like this. The sunflower made me smile, though. It was small, but the gesture felt meaningful—more meaningful than any grand declaration of affection.

I stared at the flower for a moment longer, trying to make sense of it. Who was behind this? Who would go to such lengths just to make me smile?

As I sat there, lost in thought, I could feel the weight of the mystery settling over me, as though it had become my own little secret. But one thing was for sure: I was intrigued.

The next day, just after our Herbology lesson, I found another note—this one slipped into my bag without me noticing until I’d walked halfway back to Gryffindor Tower. It was folded neatly, and the handwriting was the same.

“I hope you’re not mad at me for my secrecy. There’s a reason for it, I promise. I just want you to know that you’re extraordinary. I’ll reveal myself soon—at the Yule Ball, if you’ll allow me the honor of dancing with you. Until then, look for the sunflower.”

My mind raced as I read the note over and over. Someone wanted to dance with me at the Yule Ball? Who could it be? I felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Was it someone I knew well? Could it be someone who had been watching me all along, seeing something I hadn’t even noticed about myself?

I rushed to tell Hermione that evening. As soon as I walked into the common room, I found her sitting by the fire with Harry and Ron, all three of them discussing some latest mischief that Fred and George had gotten up to. I pulled Hermione aside and showed her the note.

Her eyes lit up when she saw it, a sly smile creeping across her face. “Whoever it is, they have excellent taste,” she said cryptically, a teasing tone in her voice. But when I raised an eyebrow, she simply gave a nonchalant shrug. “You’ll figure it out soon enough. Trust me.”

I was puzzled, but before I could ask her more, she quickly joined the others. I stared at the note in my hands, my heart thumping erratically in my chest. The words were kind, sincere—but who could it be? There were so many possibilities, but one name kept creeping into my thoughts: George Weasley.

I tried to dismiss the idea. After all, George was hardly the type to send anonymous love notes. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something about all of this—his particular brand of humor, his warmth, the way he noticed the small things—felt familiar.

The night of the Yule Ball arrived, and the anticipation in the air was palpable. The Great Hall had been transformed into a winter wonderland, with an enchanted ceiling shimmering with soft snowflakes. The entire room was lit with golden lights, casting a warm glow across the sea of elegantly dressed students. Everyone seemed to be in their own world, caught up in the magic of the evening.

I was still clutching the sunflower, which had arrived with the last note, as I made my way toward the enchanted fountains, the location mentioned in the most recent letter. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t stop the thoughts from swirling in my head. Would he be there? And who was he?

When I reached the fountains, my breath caught. Standing there, beneath the flickering lights and surrounded by the soft glow of magic, was none other than George Weasley, looking dashing in his deep maroon dress robes. His red hair was slightly tousled, as usual, but there was an earnestness in his expression that made my stomach flutter. In his hand, he held another sunflower, his nerves evident as he glanced around before spotting me.

“Y/N,” he said, stepping forward with a nervous smile. “I—well, surprise?” He let out a shaky laugh, scratching the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed.

“You?” I breathed, staring at him in disbelief.

“Yeah. Me,” he admitted, his voice suddenly serious, though the nervousness still lingered in his tone. “I’ve been the one leaving the notes. I’ve fancied you for ages, but I’ve always been too much of a coward to say it outright. I thought… maybe this would be a way to show you how I feel. I just… I needed you to know.”

I blinked at him, my mind racing. “George, I—”

He cut me off, his hand raised slightly in apology. “You don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly. “I just… I needed you to know. But if you’d do me the honor, would you save a dance for me tonight?”

I stood there for a moment, processing everything, before I broke into a smile. It was a genuine, happy smile that made my heart leap in my chest. “Of course I will,” I said softly, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off me.

Dancing with George felt like magic. The song slowed, and the world around us seemed to fade into the background. It was just the two of us, moving in sync beneath the enchanted lights, the rest of the room fading away. His hand was warm in mine, his smile infectious, and for the first time that night, I felt as though I was part of the magic, not just an observer.

“You’re really something, Y/N,” he murmured, his eyes soft and sincere as he gazed down at me.

“So are you,” I replied, a blush creeping up my cheeks as I looked up at him.

As the night wore on, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, the Yule Ball wasn’t so overrated after all. And George Weasley? He was the reason I’d never look at sunflowers the same way again.

[lsunstreakerl]

little 800 word post-kidnapping darkbull snippet. max pov! lowkey- this is not near as bad as the rest. worst warning is probably the concerning objectification, which is a running theme anyways. I would argue it's almost sweet, if not for the way max is now just as clinically insane as the rest of them.

Max stalks upstairs, fingers curling and uncurling into his palms, nails leaving little crescent moons. Daniel and Carlos have been avoiding him.

It's only been a few days but Max can tell, and he's not interested in letting it happen any longer.

He's had the worst month of his life, been put through the psychological wringer, found out his team has been methodically drugging him for years, and also that they killed his dad.

Max wants to get fucked, get a bath, and get cuddles- in that order- and he wants it now.

He wants gold around his wrists, wants a bull laid over the ink on his ribs, wants to know anywhere he goes there are people protecting him.

There's definitely guns in Max's factory flat. He wants to know where.

He doesn't even care if Oscar is here- he'll kick him out if he needs to, doesn't trust him enough yet to let him in, not even after everything.

Besides.

This is about Max, Carlos, and Danny- it's about the way they're guilting themselves, afraid of Max's reaction now that he knows.

Max has been choking down chalky pills for weeks. If Redbull has the decency to at least make them taste good, Max will do them the favor of pretending not to notice.

His new ID beeps against the doorpad, and he swings it open. Max knows Carlos and Danny are still here, because he'd made Christian tell him, right before he said he was done with meetings for the day, and if anyone needed him they could wait until after he'd gotten laid.

No one had given any objection, so Max is coming back a few hours earlier than the team timetable had shown, which means they won't be expecting him.

Sure enough- when the door swings open both of their heads snap up from where they're at the kitchen table, ankles hooked together under the chair.

"Oh shi-"

"Max-"

Max doesn't want to hear it. He lets the door swing shut behind him, toeing off his shoes.

"Hi. I missed you both, but I am wanting to be sappy and upset about it later, instead of right now, because right now I am thinking there's too much clothes and not enough kissing- so if we could go to bed please?"

Daniel's mouth is dropped open, but it's Carlos that recovers first, standing and making his way over to Max, hands settling gentle on his waist.

Max doesn't want gentle.

"Are you sure?"

He frowns at Carlos, feels his eyebrows pushing together.

"Yes, I am sure. If you do not want to that is fine, there are plenty of other people in the factory-"

Bingo. Carlos's fingers grip into his waist, and the pinpricks of pressure are exactly what Max needed, bringing him back down to Earth.

"No. No one else- me and Daniel."

Carlos leans his head down, mouthing at Max's neck, stubble scraping against his skin. Max can feel another set of hands settle on his waist from behind him, slightly overlapping Carlos's fingers.

"You've got us, Maxy. Whatever you want."

Max leans his head back, Carlos leaving little starburst of pleasure across his neck. Daniel is a solid weight at his back.

"I want to get fucked like you have a point to prove."

Max pauses. He needs to make this clear, because he has a feeling he knows what the invisible boundary is here.

"And I told the entire meeting room that I was going to get laid when I left, so I am intending to see that through, thank you. Do not think about what the team has told you, think about what I am telling you."

Both of their hands tighten, and Max can already feel himself relaxing into it. This is what he wanted, the two of them exactly as possessive as he knows they are.

"If Oscar wants to get off he can of course watch the camera feed, but he does not get to be in here yet."

Carlos laughs softly, teeth nipping into Max's shoulder.

"Rookie."

Daniel's breath ghosts hot across the back of Max's neck.

"He took your necklace away. You sure you want us leaving marks? Carlos and I can make you a new one right here- won't let you leave the bed until you're crying for it."

Max shudders, and he can feel Carlos's lips curve into a grin against his skin.

"Who's going to say anything about it? Not the store associates- Christian has paid them all off. You can go shopping with him tomorrow, with our marks all over you- let the associate know exactly what you're there for."

Max wants.

He wants to be so publicly protected that no one questions even for a second who's responsible for him. He knows logically that he is, but- he wants the proof, irrefutable physical evidence.

The Redbull team is a collection of dangerous, powerful people. They would all bend over backwards for Max.

His team.

Max belongs to them.

[felassan]

Snippets. 🐺💜 DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Game Informer reporter Wesley LeBlanc has mentioned that he will not be at the DA@SDCC stuff [source]

Saira: "i won’t lie, my very first council note for lucanis was “can’t wait to fuck puss in boots”" [source]

Jay: "And you killed it!" [on Alex Jordan's - one of the actors of Rook - post announcing his role in the game] [source]

Ashe: "say it with your chest HELL YEAH HE DOES" (context: Council members sharing that Lucanis' voice in-game does indeed sound like the actor's Spanish reel video) [source]

Erika Ishii might sneak into the actor panel at SDCC [source]

A user asked "when are the announcements of the different languages voices?" An EA Community Manager replied "We’re not ready to reveal everyone quite yet, but stay tuned!". [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, the ask-bioware channel is for questions folks may have for BioWare. they can't guarantee that all questions put there will be answered, but if you have one it's still worth popping it in there as the channel helps them "for future Q&A sessions and the like" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, a user asked about pre-orders. An EA CM replied "Not yet announced!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, a user asked about the release date. An EA CM replied "I wish I could. Gotta keep it under wraps until it's ready though!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

EA CM Violet: "always stirring in the bioware lighthouse. hard working team full of passion ❤️" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

A user said regarding the talent lineup for Rook's actors, "This entire lineup is INCREDIBLE." Corinne: "So glad you like it! 😊" [source]

Ghil Dirthalen shared that she thinks Bellara "rocks- so excited for people to meet her ❤️" [source]. She also mentioned that Bellara isn't really like Peebee from Mass Effect: Andromeda [source]

Ghil also shared non-DA voice clips of the companion actors that she thinks sound most like their voices as-used for the companions in DA:TV. This is the clip shared for Taash, although it's not super-close as Caitie had trouble finding a clip of this actor. "but their voice in DAV is a lot more dead pan? In a good way though- Taash is fun!" [source]

This is the clip shared for Emmrich. "this is closer to the Emmrich voice than the other clip ive seen floating about. I would say less cartoony than this performance, but with the same voice??" [source]

Malcolm on Emmrich: "you might have to buy him dinner or something first. He's a classy guy." [source]

Bryce: "someone on Tumblr who follows me for dragon age content called this the Veilbus and I'm-" [source]

John Epler is heading to SDCC [source]

John on the recent Game Informer video: "not shown - the piece of wood digging into my spine for 45 minutes as i filmed this. me after: 'yeah i had a piece of wood digging in between two of my vertebrae' them: 'why didn't you say something?' me: 'i was on a roll and i didn't want to lose it'" [source, two]

Trick: "I thought I knew who I was romancing in DAI until the first time I heard Sera giggle. I suggest pinballing wildly between whoever strikes your fancy as you learn more about the characters until the game comes out and then seeing who wins your heart!" [source]

User: "I was wondering about tavern songs in DAI. There’s a song for Samson, but not for Calpernia. I was wondering if there was an in-universe reason for that, or if it was due to real world limitations?" Trick: "I think the tavern songs were about what the lyricist found interesting, so they weren't a sign that Samson or Sera or Harding was more important than anyone else." [source]

[mia4gotcookiez]

OMGG HOW ABOUT A FIC ABOUT SATANS FIRST THOUGHTS WHEN HE WAS NEW BORN AND HAD TO LIVE WITH “NEW BROTHERS’

YES OMG THANK YOU FOR THE WONDERFUL ASK DARLING.

Tbh I didn’t quite understand what you wanted from me 😭😭, so I just did whatever I felt.

I did the head cannons of the brothers and then the snippet of what I think were Satans thought right after his birth.

Warning ⚠️: Angst??? Bad writing lmao

As we all know Satan was born from Lucifer’s rage and wings during/ after the war. Also, let’s consider the fact that the brothers are numbered by their power and strength and not their birth order.

______________________________________________

Lucifer

His mother I think even though they have tension, they have an inbuilt link and bond between them, whether they like it or not and can always tell what’s up with each other.

Of course Lucifer must have been in pain while Satan formed. He must have been in a trance where aside from his own sin he was consumed by wrath which actually shaped Satan

In the starting , Lucifer wouldn’t have spent that much time with Satan because he worked out his trauma in the form of paperwork for Diavolo and because of the guilt of the war and Fall. However Satan is literally a part of him and his family. I feel Lucifer would have moment like tucking Satan in bed when he accidentally falls asleep on the couch or somewhere else, making him a cup of coffee when Luci makes one for himself. Overall, I believe Satan loves Lucifer the most despite everything he does and says.

Mammon

Now mammon would be the first to warm up to him cuz mammons warm and the best big brother out there <3

Mammon would probably help Satan in the initial years to fit in and ease up practically nurturing him.

I feel Mammon would have influenced Satan the most in his style, taste, and other demonic activities. Mammon would have given him exposure in life that Satan never experienced on his own and or through lucifer or others which are entirely new. I believe Mammon is the guiding principle for Satan and a person whom he can share anything with.

Asmodeous

Asmo would have been the second to warm up to Satan. No matter what anyone says, Asmo is extremely understanding and mature when he wishes to be.

And it must have been easy for him to grasp Satans existence out of everyone. Whereas Mammon exposed Satan to fresh life experiences; Asmo would have exposed him to his own self… like teaching him how to taking care of himself.

Asmo gave himself and Satan chances to build their relationship into what it is, they are as we see almost always together.

I also think out of everyone Asmo can help Satan in controlling his wrath the most since both of their sins are accountable under control.

Beel

Beel is in the middle of eceryone because since he was close to Lilith he must have also been experiencing great guilt, especially with the choice between Lilith and Belphie.

Beel once he registers Satan would be a bit troubled but not against it or whatever… just a mix of curiosity and yearning.

They probably bonded on the topic of knowledge of which realm’s food is better. I do feel that Beel sometimes co related Lilith and Satan together just because of his inner conflicts and feelings.

Levi

Levi would have been slow to warm up probably. They probably bonded over some common book/manga they read.

From then on, Levi would have given Satan more exposure in terms of books, games, manga from human world, celestial realm, etc.

I feel they would have ended up visiting several maid and cat cafés together, gaming together, reading and binge watching shows and things together. Eventually building off a special bond with inner jokes and understanding that no one except them knows, a bond of great trust and mutual interest and love for each other.

Belphegor

Belphie would have been the last to open up.

Out of all the brothers believe that Belphie is more on terms with his raw demonic self and must have been a little hostile with Satan until he saw a mix of Lucifers and Lilith’s mannerism to which he mellowed down and slowly started trusting each other.

Belphie probably took ALOT of years to mellow down before they bonded over a distaste for Lucifers and diavolos relation and their knowledge about stars and very occasionally Belphiewould have told Satan how Lilith was (despite him having snippets of Lucifers memories). Out of all the brothers , they have the most raw and pure bond of trust and loyalty and ofc carefully built love.

______________________________________________

Satan’s mind

I didn’t feel when I was born but I had question why?

Why did I exist?

Why was I separate from him, and yet so full of everything he denied?

His pride. His wrath. His pain. I was all of it—and none of it. A contradiction wrapped in his blood.

I remember seeing him, my so-called “Birth-giver” not feeling anything of my own but of his.

And yet… even then, even at the very beginning, I wondered if I was more than just his cast-off rage. Was there room in me for reason? For curiosity? For self?

The answer burned quietly inside me, like a fire learning to breathe.

I wasn’t just born from wrath.

I was the question it never dared to ask

Living among his brothers

Living with my brothers was… strange.

They weren’t mine, not really. They were his—Lucifer’s. Each one carrying some piece of the story that led to my existence. I could feel it. The grief in Beel, the chaos in Mammon, the cold logic in Lucifer. All of them, in some way, bore the weight of the Fall. And me? I was just the aftershock.

At first, they didn’t know what to do with me. I don’t blame them. I was temperamental, unpredictable. A force, not a person.

Belphie avoided me. Levi watched me like I was some glitch in his game. Mammon tried to act casual, but I could see the fear in his eyes. Only Asmo dared to be openly curious—though even he kept his distance, like I might explode if touched the wrong way.

Lucifer… he said nothing. But I saw how he looked at me. Like a mirror that reflected everything he hated about himself.

I hated that look.

But I also… wanted him to look. To acknowledge me. Not as a mistake, not as an accident of rage—but as someone real.

And slowly, the house began to feel less like a battlefield and more like a maze. A mess of emotions I didn’t understand. I started watching them. Not out of distrust—but curiosity.

How could beings born from such sin laugh like that?

Why did Beel always save the last snack?

Why did Mammon keep losing bets and still try again the next day?

They were chaotic, loud, irritating—but they were alive. And I started to wonder… was I allowed to be that too?

So I stayed. I fought. I yelled. I read. I learned. And in the quiet moments, I listened—to their stories, to their habits, to the rhythm of a family that somehow, impossibly, was now mine.

Even if I wasn’t born like them…

Even if I didn’t belong the same way…

Maybe, just maybe, I could still be one of them.

[severus-snaps]

a ramble and some open questions for fandom elders (and others) about whether Snape was only made more sympathetic on account of Alan Rickman's popularity/casting, and similar things

so I stopped engaging with a tiktok creator for a while who I'd previously found very interesting because nearly every time they brought up Snape, they'd throw in some casual "if Harry was a girl, Snape would be really creepy/predatory about it" or some other weird Snape take not rooted in anything (to my mind). Like, it was weird to me because they bring in book quotes or pottermore/interview snippets to other analyses of other characters and ideas, but never Snape - for Snape, it was always just about vibes and feelings. For Snape, the fact we never hear that he killed someone or the fact we never heard that he stalked Lily is, in fact, strong evidence that he did do those things - or certainly thought about it - and certainly enough to be considered predatory and likely to dose Lily (and later a hypothetical Harriet) with a love potion or keep them in his basement, or something.

I disputed that idea in the comments one time, and some Snape supporting comments outside of mine got removed and users blocked, meanwhile my comments were (I think deliberately) misinterpreted. I stopped using tiktok entirely for a while, and never went back to see if the comments got deleted or whatever. Tiktok never gave me any further notifications about it upon re-downloading, so I guess they were removed? Idk. I have no desire to check.

but all of that is background really; she's lately posted some videos (I still find the rest of her content interesting, but apparently snape content is a no-go lool) saying that Snape's whole characterisation is different after the 'three year summer' - that is, that JKR saw how popular Snape was in the films, that she had to find a way to keep Alan Rickman on board when he wanted to leave, and that when she took her break between writing GoF and OotP I think, Snape sort of morphed into a new character and she had to attempt to redeem him (which, in her eyes, he's not redeemed even at the end which is like. ok). She implied that there's no evidence of James' bullying prior to OotP, no evidence of Snape ever having had a relationship (much less a friendship) with Lily, and that all of that was tossed into the later books retroactively to 'redeem' his character. (Obviously, I have Thoughts on that, which I'll come back to).

Of course, with the sort of... bad vibes she's built up around pro-Snape comments on her videos, all of the comments were in agreement with her. I'm also new to HP/Snape in terms of actively engaging with the fandom online, as it somehow passed me by at the time. But now I have Thoughts

So with all of that in mind, and just because I want to hear other people's thoughts but TikTok comments are a nightmare on their own with the character limit, inability to read them properly/in order, and general vibe of TikTok comments (even without the creator deleting/getting antsy about pro-Snape ideas), if anyone wants to discuss this lot, I am keen to hear people's thoughts:

Was Snape always a popular book character, or did that change/skyrocket with Alan Rickman? (For my part, I don't remember hating Snape when I read the books the first time around - in fact, I hardly remember registering him at all - but I do remember hating Umbridge).

How true is it that Snape was made 'more sympathetic' following the films? To me, it doesn't make sense; the first big, weighty suggestion of the marauders bullying Snape was in PoA, which was released mid-1999; the first evidence that Snape was spying was in GoF, in mid-2000. The first film didn't even come out (Alan Rickman's charisma included) until 2001. Weirdly, the PoA stuff the user is convinced just says that Snape was jealous of James (probably true, not denying it) but in the exact same book Remus/Sirius all but admitted to Sirius trying to kill Snape, which seems like a massive overreaction to Snape being an annoying little hater of a teen that she never comments on because, I guess, Snape deserved it?

Also, does it matter if he was made 'more sympathetic'? ootp was published in 2003, and in early 2002 Alan considered leaving. sure, JK might have added/exaggerated SWM to make him more sympathetic, but the reasons for adding in scenes don't change the fact that that's now part of the fabric of the character - a character who, by this point, had already been revealed in PoA to be the subject of a near-murder plot at the hands of the Marauders and was Very Not Okay about it; the marauders had already been described as troublemakers; Snape was already shown to be wary of Lupin for reasons that weren't solely about him being a werewolf, but about the Prank/Trick/Willow incident. An incident, much like SWM, that occurred because Sirius thought it would be "amusing" to put Snape in a horrible position. if JKR wanted to, she could've made Sirius the ringleader in SWM - but for Snape, I think she just wanted to solidify why a grown man hates a child who looks exactly like his father, which was also referenced in the early books and strongly prefaced by the events of PoA in the Shack (I don't think she had it 'all planned out' from day dot, however, but went with the vibes and fleshed out the details later). Obviously, to this creator, Lupin's idea that Snape was solely a little bitch because he hated that James was better at Quidditch is to be taken at face value, despite the fact the conversation then moves on to Snape's near-death following Sirius 'trick'ing Snape into the willow

Same as above but with his characterisation; she acknowledges that the later books are darker and have a more adult tone, but somehow it's still suspicious that Snape's sympathetic backstory was never once alluded to in earlier books (which, again, I think it's fair to say it was alluded to, but in sufficiently lacking detail so that JK could deal with it when she got there). Also with PoA and GoF especially, there are hints of Snape going from his more 'silly evil teacher' which he kind of was in books 1 and 2, heading towards the more realistic, but still delightfully bitter and flawed, adult character as the books aged up. I haven't read the books in a while I'll admit, but from the Snape passages I have read, I never noticed a sufficient difference pre or post three-year-summer that didn't match the wider tone of the books changing also.

Unlike the tiktok creator, I also think that Snape's reaction to Harry in general is almost entirely to do with James, rather than Lily's so-called rejection, and so there's no evidence that Snape would be weird to a 'Harriet' that resembled his mother, or weird to Lily if he saw her again; I think with his characterisation it's more likely that Harriet would've been treated like Hermione, Ron, or Tonks - being largely ignored with the occasional insult and told off for causing trouble - aka, how Snape would treat most people. Outside of the one isolated 'mudblood' incident, Snape was a bit of a doormat when it came to Lily (bless his heart). He followed her from the train carriage without comment, backtracked when she appeared angry in the post-prank conversation, even the "I won't let you" seemed more "I won't let you turn him into some kind of hero" or even, at a stretch, an "I won't let you be with him" out of Lily's own safety or something than "I won't let you leave me", to me - because he did just let her leave him in school? James and Snape continued hexing one another in 7th year, but there's no suggestion that Snape ever tried to be weird to Lily.

To my mind, there's no suggestion that Snape stalked Lily, no suggestion that he asked Voldemort to capture her - just to spare her. And then Snape went to Dumbledore anyway, probably immediately based on how harried he is on the windy hilltop scene, because he knew Voldemort wouldn't spare her, and even if he did, Snape would probably have to keep up the ruse of 'desiring' Lily, and do the sorts of thing Snaters suggest he wanted to do, just to keep her alive. But with Dumbledore involved, Snape wouldn't ever have the chance to imprison/love potion her - and that wasn't what he wanted. He just wanted her alive so he wouldn't have played a part in her death. I also doubt that Snape had much time to think when Voldemort revealed who he was choosing to kill; it's not as though Voldemort makes decisions by committee. He'd have revealed his plans and Snape would make a quick, panic-stricken decision to tell Voldemort that he desired Lily (which he may have done, to an extent; he'd need to draw on something to back up his request when Voldemort undoubtedly looked into his mind to see why Snape wanted to spare his Priority #1 victim). And like I say, he then set up a meeting with Dumbledore, probably immediately/as soon as he could, sensing that that wouldn't work (was he not convincing enough? Did he just know Voldemort too well? I have so many questions about how that conversation went down, and subsequent conversations about Lily which presumably occurred after V's resurrection).

anyway, no conclusion, only thoughts too rambly for tiktok comments

[spacedace]

Snippet/prolog thing from a DP x DC fic that lives almost entirely inside my head outside of this & a few other bits.

Please feel free to take this as an overly long prompt haha

If anyone wants context to this let me know and I'll be happy to info dump at you lol

-

The kid had been eleven the first time John Constantine met her.

A little ghost girl, too small for the crowns and dominions that were rightfully hers, wandering the world alone and unattended because to stay in one place would drive her mad - or worse. He didn’t think himself as having a particularly soft heart, but there was something about little Stella Phantom that grew on him - a bit like a mold, he liked to explain. Maybe it was the way she swore like a sailor and kicked a demon in the low hangers with a feral grin the first time he met her. Maybe it was just how lonely she looked, small and slight in the large world she was so obsessed with exploring.

She had a family. A Grave of her own that worried about her, but who couldn’t follow her on her constant travels no matter how much they wanted to. Proof that being some of the most powerful beings in existence wasn’t enough to prepare you for parenthood.

Somewhere along the lines she started following John around. Interested in what he was doing, where he was going, who he worked with. It hadn’t taken long to get her folded into JL Dark. Zantanna had blanched when he’d shown up with little Elle, pulling in the big wigs from JL Light to argue about the ethics of involving a child in their work. As if Supes and the Bat had legs to stand on with their own brood so often in the thick of danger. Elle was safer under his watch than she’d be under the loose oversight the Titans had or whatever fresh hell was going on with Young Justice but hell if anyone would listen to him on that front.

He lost the war when she met Superboy Jr. and Robin V.

She’d adored them from the start, delighted at having children her own age around to spend time with. They formed a little team, working together here and there, then more often as they got older. She still worked mostly with JL Dark, but she was growing up. Spreading her wings a bit.

Elle was seventeen when the Bonds first formed. The spider-silk thin threads finally winding themselves into the heavy binds that spilled out of her Core and reached out for anchoring in the boys. It was sickeningly sweet, in the way puppy love always was. She was too young for Core Bonds like that to settle, of course, in the way children were always too young when they fell in love the first time. It was normal though. Ghost children the Realms over made Bonds only for them to fade or change as they grew, almost never anchoring to anyone til they were full grown.

She’d blushed as red as Marvel’s suit when she realized John could see them, stuttering and embarrassed. He’d teased her about it for a long time, about how much she’d grown up, how much trouble she was going to cause, how he was going to have to fight the big bad Bat and his pet boy scout when she inevitably dishonored their poor, innocent sons. It was entertaining, endearing.

He waited for the Bonds to fade or shift. Weeks. Months. Years. As she turned nineteen, he started to wonder if they would stick around. If in another few years they might strengthen, begin the slow process of anchoring.

She was twenty-one when her boys - calling themselves Flamebird and Phoenix now - started dating each other.

The Bonds remained, steady and solid and painfully unanchored.

John stopped teasing her about them.

They hadn’t changed to accommodate platonic bonds, nor had they faded any. Their tendency to tangle around her like snare was another point of concern. Core Bonds weren’t meant to cause difficulty for the ghost they were born from, and they certainly weren’t meant to wrap around the ghost’s limbs and body in painful loops like that. They weren’t supposed to hurt.

When she was twenty three he started suggesting it might be time for intervention. The irony that he of all people would be trying to get someone to take steps to cut out the thing harming them was not lost on him. Nor was the way the fond feelings he had for the girl had skewed decisively paternal over the years in a way that his younger self would have mocked him for endlessly.

He felt better about broaching the subject knowing that her Grave had been suggesting the same thing. That he wasn’t overstepping the bounds of whatever odd partnership they’d developed over the years. John was, he had very reluctantly come to accept, the girl’s mentor if nothing else. His job was to teach her and guide her, not be her parent.

No matter what his old, battered heart might try and suggest.

Even still, he couldn’t help but be concerned.

She was twenty-five when they got temporarily launched into that broken, bleak world. When they met the Elle and Flamebird and Phoenix of that horrible dimension.

The three alternates’ bonds were anchored completely, tying the triad together in threads of silver and green. Not even Other-Elle’s complete, sickening deterioration into something cannibalistic and feral had been enough to break them. He can’t imagine how much it must have hurt to see that, for his girl to glimpse a world where something she’d longed for for so long happened, only for it to seemingly be at the expense of reality itself.

He helped cover for her, after their two groups had been mixed up and separated for the night - or what might be called night in a world that no longer had any light to make those kinds of distinctions in time. When she came back with the Flamebird and Phoenix of that world, after their little separation from the larger group he kept her two boys misdirected. Distracted Nightwing and Zantanna so they didn’t go asking too many questions he knew Elle wouldn’t want answered. The Bat John was helpless to do much about, but thankfully the big brooder seemed too intent on the desolate, lightless world itself to notice the way Elle’s gaze was going distant, bittersweet at the edges.

He didn’t know what, exactly had happened in the hours she was gone. He could guess, from the way the Other-Phoenix and Other-Flamebird looked at her, the way she avoided her boys. Loneliness and desperation made for an easy slide into bad decisions. John might just have to admit that Zantanna had been correct, all the times she’d said he was a bad influence on the girl. Not that there was any surprise there.

Elle’s Bonds were even more of a knotted mess than before. Offered something so close to anchoring only to find no purchase. They twisted about her throat like a noose now, ready to strangle the life out of her one day.

He signed off on her leave of absence when they finally made it back to their home dimension.

Anyone else would want details to write down. Would want to know the specifics of why and for how long and a whole mess of other details she either wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. He’d get his ass roasted over the fire for the mess the paperwork was in, but that was fine. He’d endured far worse for far less important reasons.

Personal leave, he’d written.

Duration of leave: indefinite.

Reason for leave: None of your fucking business, Bats.

They shared a cigarette on one of the high catwalks in the Watchtower watching dawn break on the world below. Grateful to see the sun and stars again after those two days in utter blackness. They didn’t talk about her Bonds. About what happened. About how she hadn’t talked to her Boys since coming back. Just stood and smoked. He pretended not to notice her tears. She pretended not to notice his. Neither of them had ever been any good at goodbyes.

When the time came she bumped his shoulder in thanks - for the cigarette, for the company, for the years of friendship and family - before turning and stepping through the bright purple door standing impossibly in the middle of the walkway.

He glimpsed the green of the Infinite Realms and the distant shape of her Lair beyond. A world of worlds, paradise to one that never stopped, always off to find something new, something never seen before. It was against all odds that she’d even stumbled upon this one in the first place. A small speck in the crushing infinite.

When the door closed it did so slowly, a painful whine and a soft, mournful click all that marked her leaving.

John watched it bleed out of existence, and wondered if he’d ever see her again.

Six months later, the stars started to disappear.

[irenespring]

Thoughts on Bertha Russell (Many Thoughts)

I am So curious about Bertha Russell's backstory. We have little snippets:

Her father was a potato farmer.

She has lots of mommy issues. (George mentions her mother said she was the only child "worthy of her dreams" to which Bertha angrily responds that her mother's dreams were worthless because she died with nothing which is A Lot)

She has sibling issues. (George offers to invite her sister to a thing and she refuses)

She and George met when they were both poor, they made the fortune together.

She had a distinct learning curve when they first got to New York. She bought The Wrong House and made The Wrong Friends and had to learn and relearn things over a period of years. (I am especially interested about this time, because she would know Nothing, being the ultimate outsider, but she is a tactical genius and viciously ambitious...I want to see young!Bertha in the early stages of the struggle before she knows how to dress/talk/act).

I hope we will learn more about her because more than any of the other characters she wants things. Things that are nebulous, but she doesn't seem to realize are nebulous, because she has clear goals but they don't satisfy her so she has to make another goal. Loving husband doing well? Not enough. They have enough money to hear the call of the guillotine? It's not enough, they need status. They have status? Not enough, they need to beat Lina Astor. Now they've beaten Lina Astor, but I don't think anyone thinks that's going to be enough. George points out multiple times that he is content where he is and content to let their children marry for love to people of what Bertha considers middling station. She's the sole driving force for continued social climbing. And it doesn't matter how high they get, she wants to go higher, she wants to go "all the way" but there isn't an all the way unless I guess you're Empress of the World. But then the moon starts looking awfully conquerable.

She claims she's doing it for their children, but both children have said her suggestions aren't what they want. And it is heavily implied she just sold her only daughter to the Duke so he would attend an opera performance. She wants Gladys to marry the Duke so that she will be grandmother to English nobility. It's for her. So she is willing to use her children, her alleged motivation, as pawns. They aren't her real motivation after all, even if she may think they are. I do think she loves her children and George. I also think that she thinks she's helping Gladys, but I also think there's a limit to that love because it exists beside the yawning void of hunger within her psyche. George outright asks her if his love for her is enough to make her happy early in s1, because her love is enough for him. She says it's "almost enough" and that's significant and enough for him, which is telling, when usually any answer other than "yes of course" would be taken by a love interest as a searing betrayal. Anyway, the point is, her kids/her family are, at least, not her entire motivation and might not factor into her motivation at all, if she is fully honest with herself.

So, the hunger. The call to Rise. The rage that has her hyperventilating in bed alone after her failed party instead of crying in her husband's arms like most television characters would do. The instinct to look upon a room of people and think you will all bow to me you sniveling mortals. Why is it there? Like...why is she Like This? I think some of it has to come from what we can learn just from George's comment about impossibly ambitious, ruthless, low empathy Bertha being the only one "worthy of her mother's dreams." Which means her mother had dreams that were very important to her and that she never achieved. Her mother also guarded said dreams and judged her children harshly, we know Bertha has at least one sister, who is apparently judged not worthy in the eyes of her own mother. We know Bertha does not like talking about this and tries to dismiss it. Was there pressure on Bertha to be worthy? When could that have started and how did it manifest? Circling back to my interest in young!Bertha in NY, if the social rejection was bad in s1, it was probably worse then, and constant social failures would have made her angrier and more determined to both to become the queen of New York society and to see it burn. This is all stuff I want to learn more about in season 3.

HERE IS WHERE I PRETTY MUCH JUST DO PREDICTIONS (WHICH MAY BE TINFOIL, IDK):

Because I think we will finally get to see Bertha Russell: Season Villain. Every season needs a villain, and Bertha has pretty much vanquished all of them. The first couple seasons the overarching villain has been New York Society with its inequalities and pointless social cruelty, if that holds, Bertha is now the head of that system, having beaten Lina Astor and set herself up as the queen. Additionally, side opponents (not really villains) like Agnes also aren't in a position to make major problems for the protagonists because the Van Rhijn household is now the Forte household and cinnamon roll Ada is now in charge. Unless Agnes attempts to usurp her sister in a subplot (which I don't think will happen except for maybe one episode of hijinx) she's not in a powerful spot. The Society character is indisputably Bertha. And Bertha has been up to some serious villain shit. If she did agree to marry Gladys to the Duke, she's now against All the Protagonists---a sure sign of villain status. She's even against her husband, who swore to back Gladys in her choice of love match, and Gladys doesn't like the Duke. If Gladys wants out, Larry will almost certainly help her. And Saint Marian will help Larry either for love reasons or moral reasons, and hopefully Peggy has better things to do but she will probably get dragged into it somehow and if Marian's involved Ada's also involved and you see where this is going.

Also, show pacing wise, Bertha is due for a loss. I love her and I want her to win everything and be declared Empress of Earth and Moon but realistically that isn't going to happen. In a show where villains lose, it checks out. Gladys isn't going to marry the Duke, and if she does, everyone is going to regret it. One reason I think we will learn more about Bertha and her history is because if she loses she's going to Lose It. Dramatic monologue style. When she had a party and no one came she swore eternal vengeance and spent the night Angry Breathing and presumably fantasizing about the Red Wedding. She doesn't handle losing well. A big public loss after achieving every status symbol she could think of would probably break her mind, and she'll probably tell whoever she's talking to (probably George) enough backstory info that we the audience can fill in stuff. This is also where I would guess she and George would reconcile where he would see she is the person he loves and has not transformed into an automaton, she's just Messed Up, which he always knew and loved so he is Back In.

IN CONCLUSION:

This is who Marina was writing about. She is a primadonna girl, and all she ever wanted was the world. She cannot help that she needs it all, in this case the primadonna life: both the rise and the fall. She also knows exactly what she wants and who she wants to be. This is why she walks and talks like a machine. Unfortunately, she is becoming a self-fulfilled prophecy.

Oh, oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh.

[quibbs126]

I just want to ramble about the usage of Takedown in KPDH right now, because personally I found it rather interesting

Since I'm gonna be going over its usage in the movie, spoilers are abound, so I'll keep it under the cut if you don't want to see that

So first we have how it's used in the trailer, in which a snippet is played at the very end, and we're told "featuring 'Takedown' by TWICE". I personally don't really know TWICE, or K-pop in general, I'm more of a casual listener, but I'm given to understand it's at least a fairly popular K-pop group? So you know, I assume it's like when Trolls 3 advertised that they were going to have a new song from *NSYNC in their movie, wildly different movie from this one aside. Well not entirely, since *NSYNC was specifically popular in the 2000s, but you get my drift

And I assumed that like that movie, this song would then turn out to be majorly important in the climax of the movie, like it's the song they use to defeat the villains. That would just make sense, and the name fits with what we've seen of the movie in the trailer

And in the movie itself, Takedown is first conceptualized when the Saja Boys make their threat to the world well known to the girls, and how they're going to beat and expose this new demon boy band at the idol awards. So it's still following in that assumption of the song's use in the movie. And the song is built up to for quite a lot of the movie, it's pretty important

But then, as the movie goes on, with Rumi and Jinu interacting and Rumi starting to change her perspective on demons (as well as connecting it to her own heritage), she becomes increasingly hesitant about all the lyrics in Takedown, and whether it should be what they sing at the idol awards. And in turn, Takedown becomes less positive of a presence in the story, and more foreboding, to the point where they ultimately decide to switch their idol awards song to Golden

And this all comes to a head at the idol awards, where the playing of the song, our first time hearing it in its sort-of-full glory, is an indicator that something is deeply wrong, as Takedown was never supposed to play. And it's Takedown that leads to the 3rd act breakup and low point of the movie, with Rumi being exposed for her patterns Zoey and Mira, and publicly making it seem like Huntr/x has now broken up live on stage, making Saja Boys the winners of the idol awards

And at the end of the movie, the song used to defeat Gwi-Ma at the end isn't Takedown, but This is What it Sounds Like. In fact, the only time we hear Takedown in its full glory is during the credits, and it isn't the girls singing it, just what's being played here. And honestly, I kind of feel like it’s just being played here because it had to be in the movie in full somewhere, like Golden might have been the more fitting end credits song (though I also didn’t watch the credits in full, so maybe Golden shows up later. But still, you get what I’m saying)

Now I can't say why exactly the writers chose to use Takedown, this song made by popular artists and prominently advertised, in this way. I'm not exactly good at the reasoning portion of analysis, just the laying out the facts part. If anyone else has a potential explanation, feel free to leave one in the comments or reblogs

It just find it interesting that it was used in such a way, it sticks out to me

[terresdebrume]

"I won't let them touch you" for your dead boy detective agency boys

Thanks for the prompt friend! :D Sorry it took so long, I was at work and then I got plagued with The Insecurities

This fits the possessive side of things slightly better than the dramatic one? Idk. I feel like I've failed to comply with the rules, even though I like the snippet x)

Anyway, thanks again, and if anyone else wants to send a prompt the list is right there

The sun beats down on the town square, bright enough to hide the outside world behind a veil of golden light and turn cousin Katherine's dress into a blinding beacon of virginal purity. Whatever one thinks of the concept, Edwin admits to himself, there is no denying that summer weddings occasionally provide such vivid image as to at least explain how it may have come to be. Nevertheless, he stays away. Of his three cousins, Katherine is the one he always felt the most kinship for, and he would not have missed this ceremony for the world, and yet--Edwin's knuckles brush together, gloveless skin shot through with electricity at the realization, and Edwin jolts his hands apart again. He tries to shove them into his pockets, only to pull them out once more when he remembers not to break the lines of his navy suit. Trying to settle them at his side proves no more fruitfull: the pose feels unnatural and constrictive, as if his hands were pulling against some kind of invisible tie.

"Here," Charles says, stepping between Edwin and the aisle, the lean line of him neatly obscuring the sight of Edwin's hands. "Have at it for a minute, yeah?"

It takes a moment for Edwin to understand, and when he does hit throat immediately constricts with emotion. They have never truly talked about this quirk of Edwin's. Not in the way they perhaps should have, at any rate. It is largely Edwin's fault: for all that he has learned to pursue his interests more openly and unashamedly, there are some areas of his life he has yet to dare confront. Cut and dry is all well and good, but even he can be made to appreciate the value of ambiguity. And so: they haven't talked about it. The way Edwin's fists knead against one another without thought whenever he feels tense, the way he rarely wears less than three layers of clothing if he can help it. The way busy weeks at work make him come home impatient to shed them, the very contact of cloth against his skin so intense as to feel like pain. The way loud noises make him want to stick a pencil in his ears, sometimes.

They haven't talked about it, but Charles took note anyway, and never once expected Edwin to change. Edwin, almost overcome with gratitude, lets out a long, quiet sigh of relief, and leans forward until his forehead can rest against the back of Charles' neck.

"It's no use, you know," he sighs, murmuring to ensure his voice won't be carried out to where his paternal grandmother is slowly walking towards the door. "The minute they see--"

He does not stop himself from pressing his fists together this time. Doesn't try to ignore the tightness of his shoulder, or the beating of his heart--and because he doesn't try to pretend they aren't here, they grow smaller. More manageable, in a way, than they ever were when he was alone. Without quite meaning to, Edwin smiles down at the back of Charles' suit, red in a sea of greys and blues. Here, hidden behind Charles, Edwin knows no one will try to pull his hands apart.

"You don't worry about them," Charles says, quiet but firm. "I won't let them touch you."

Charles once slapped Edwin's father's hands in the middle of dinner at the Ritz, all for the crime of trying to stop Edwin from mashing his fists together. Edwin belives his latest proclamation immediately, and without reservation. Still:

"You cannot fight my entire family," he says, just for the pleasure of hearing Charles put on his cocky voice and retort:

"Just you watch. First one to look a little too close gets whooped on their bum."

Edwin, despite himself, finds himself chuckling, straightening up until he can look at Charles properly. The light from outside lines the edge of his cheek in golden light the hoop in his ear as bright as a halo. He is a flame in the darkness of the church, bright and warm as a fire in the hearth. Edwin, born and raised in the icy cold of a winter lake, can never get enough.

"Surely," he says, "you don't meant Granny Gladys."

"Especially Granny Gladys," Charles retorts. "I'm not gonna turn my back and let her get me with her rollator."

Edwin, with some difficulty, bites down on a burst of laughter. In front of him, Charles turns his head just far enough to flash a wicked grin, sharp and shameless in a way that makes Edwin's stomach expand into the warmest of feelings. Charles must see something in his face then, because he turns serious, hands coming up to frame Edwin's face as he looks into his eyes and says:

"I'm serious you know. If your father tries to slap your hands again, I really will send him down on his arse."

"I believe you", Edwin says, insides turning embarrassingly gooey at the fierceness of Charles' tone.

"Good," Charles says, still frowning in intensity. "There's nothing wrong with you. There's nothing wrong with your hands. I know I haven't been where I should have been--"

"Charles," Edwin interrupts, heart picking up speed with the alacrity of a racing car, "you don't--"

"No, listen to me," Charles insists, hands pulling gently at the sides of Edwin's face until their foreheads touch, "no more hand slaps. No more eye contact. I couldn't be with you these past seven years, and I'm sorry--but I'm here, now, and I don't care what anyone in your family says, as far as I'm concerned, unless you want to, you don't have to look anyone in the eye ever again."

Edwin stares, half feeling like he is about to liquefy. He feels so, so warm here in the coolness of that church, warm like the sun in spring after a long winter. Warm like a nice sweater on a winter evening. Warm like Charles' smile, like the way he only ever takes Edwin's hand in his with love, like the way the only thing he ever did with Edwin's fist was wrap his hands around them like a shield. Edwin stares, and swallows hard, and catches Charles into a crushing hug before he can do something absolutely daft like kiss him right here, where all his family could see.

[queenjunothegreat]

For those of you interested, here's a snippet from the college AU Valgrace slow burn I'm never gonna actually write (๑˘︶˘๑)

“So, you guys are sure you're not related?” Jason asked skeptically. “Because you're, like, weirdly identical.”

“Piper wishes we were identical,” Leo scoffed. “I’m way hotter than she is.”

Jason considered that for less than a moment before nodding. “That's true. But other than that you guys could pass as twins.”

Leo shrugged casually. “I mean, yeah, when we were little we used to—” He cut himself off with a gross sputtering sound as Jason’s word sunk in while Piper wheezed her cackling laughter at his side. “What did you just say?”

Jason blinked wide blue eyes at him in obvious confusion. “What?” Leo didn't respond beyond turning vermillion, but Jason’s phone chose that moment to ring, breaking the tension. He glanced down at the screen and winced before giving Piper and Leo an apologetic look. “Sorry, I've got to take this. I'll be right back.”

“Don’t worry about it dude, we're not going anywhere,” Leo assured him. Jason gave him one of those smiles that made Leo's stomach flutter like hyperactive butterflies, and he stood to step away.

As soon as he was gone, Leo buried his face in his arms with a groan, knowing Piper was going to pounce on him.

Right on cue, he felt her dig the knuckle of her pointer finger between his ribs and when he yelped and scowled at her, she put on a comically pitiful puppy dog pout and tapped the tips of her pointer fingers together. “Ooowwwhh, I dunno, Pipew, what if he doesn't wike me?” she mocked. "We'we jus fwends.”

“Shut up!” he seethed, clapping both of his hands to her mouth. “I hate you I hate you I hate you. Shut up.”

Piper rolled her eyes and licked his palm so he squawked and retreated. “Seriously, though. That guy is, like, overtly flirting with you. You know that, right?”

“You don’t get it; he's just like that,” he said defensively. His cheeks and heart did nothing to support his point. “He's just really earnest and sweet and nice and he just says stuff, okay? You can’t read into it. I'm sure that he would have agreed with you if you'd claimed to be the hotter one.”

“You know, maybe if he hadn't spent the entire conversation making heart-eyes at you, I'd believe you, but weeeeellll…”

Leo buried his face back in his arms. “You’re so annoying. Go away and bother someone who loves you.”

Piper made some obnoxious kissing sounds, but before she could say anything else, Jason returned to his seat. Leo looked up and was met with that warm, gentle gaze. “Sorry about that. If it was anyone else, I wouldn't have let them interrupt us, but it was my dad and he's… insistent.” Then his gaze flicked over to Piper like he'd forgotten that she was there and his eyes widened with realization. “Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't even think to ask if you wanted anything. I can go order real quick, if you'd like.”

“Nah, don't worry about it, I'm about to take off anyway,” she smiled at him. “I just wanted to check in and see how my baby brother—”

“Die.”

“—was doing.” She stood up to leave, waving at them over her shoulder. “Bye, Leo! Bye, Jason! Have fun on your date!”

Leo choked so hard his milkshake came out of his nose and he yanked the collar of his jacket up over his head and wished he could dissolve into atoms while Jason fussed over him.

He really hated his sister.

[strawberrypinky]

WIP Wednesday

The second part of my Lucanis x Rook Crazy Rich Asians series should've been out like a week ago but work has been a bitch so here we go with the snippet for it.

NPT for two of my faves bc I am thirsty for good content: @goodgirlgonebard @legacygirlingreen

Teia whipped her head around, looking at Wilhelmina with wide eyes, the elven mage blushing in shame. "Has Lucanis finally introduced you?"

"I - yes," Wilhelmina admitted reluctantly. "A couple of weeks ago."

Before she could even react, Teia grabbed Wilhelmina's left hand, pulling it close as if to look for something and being disappointed when she couldn't find it. "And here I thought I could finally plan a wedding," the Antivan woman sniffed disapprovingly, before looking back at Illario. “Do you think he might propose during his nameday celebrations in a couple of weeks?”

Illairo let out a barking laugh, causing irritated glances to be thrown his way. "I fear we might need to work on Caterina's approval first before my cousin can safely make Rook a Dellamorte.”

Wilhelmina’s stomach twisted at the words, though she forced a smile to keep her expression neutral. A Dellamorte. The idea should have been ridiculous - they had never even spoken about marriage, and Wilhelmina wasn't entirely sure if Lucanis even wanted to get married in the first place. She was perfectly content just being at his side, whether they shared a name or not. And yet, a part of her ached at the thought of the implication that Caterina’s approval was the one thing standing between her and a future with him.

To his credit, Illario picked up on Wilhelmina’s forced smile with ease, his eyebrow raised as he scrutinised her, his smirk fading into something that almost resembled concern. “She said something to you, didn’t she?”

Wilhelmina only sighed. “She did. But it doesn’t matter.”

“If it prevents me from planning a wedding, it does,” Teia jumped in.

“Lucanis and I haven’t even spoken about… that ,” Wilhelmina pressed out. “I’m not even sure he wants to get married.” She looked up with furrowed brows when she heard amused chuckles, the Crows in front of her scarcely holding in their laughter. “What’s so funny?” 

“Half of Antiva knows the First Talon is besotted with the saviour of Thedas,” Viago eventually said, clearing his throat. “There’s probably betting pools as to when your engagement is finally announced.” 

Wilhelmina’s face burned, cheeks reddening. “That doesn’t mean he wants to, though.”

“My cousin rarely showed interest in anyone,” Illario snorted. “Going as far as to introduce you to Caterina? He wants to. Caterina knows just as much, which is why I’m guessing she was especially nice to you after you left.”

Wilhelmina let out a sharp, humourless laugh. "Nice is certainly one way to put it."

Illario hummed knowingly, swirling the last of his wine in his goblet. "Let me guess: she made it clear you were beneath him? That he’d come to his senses eventually?"

Wilhelmina’s silence was answer enough.

“Why would she think that?” Teia asked incredulously, eyes flitting between Wilhelmina and Illario. “You liberated Treviso and saved Thedas.”

“That’s apparently nothing if you were found in a crypt as a child,” Wilhelmina shrugged her shoulders defeatedly. 

Viago hummed knowingly. “Tale as old as time.” 

“You would know,” Illario snorted, causing the Fifth Talon to glare at him. “Anywho, uccellina . I can unfortunately tell you that nothing will change her mind about you.”

Wilhelmina winced, the truth she had known and come to expect piercing her with cold cruelty. 

“You can, however,” Illario continued with a measured tone, “Get her to respect you. She can see reason on occasion.” 

“Because you’re the shining example of gaining her approval,” Viago snorted, and it was Illario’s turn to glare at him in return. 

[flowerflamestars]

No Grave Can Hold My Body Down snippet

“Were you trying all along?” Eris asked. “Tell me, when was the first? Last night was not in truth our first meeting, was it, Lady Archeron? I should have known. Did you hesitate, to see what I might give?” What he would sacrifice, how long he would look? Eris had use, no interest in such matters. Of course it was a lie- what was Elain but magic, magic, magic- Eris was weak, hungry, but not one who enchanted easily. Silence swelled. “What,” Elain snapped, voice a void. Eris had never wished to get his hands on another being his whole long life, but he wished to see her eyes in blind rage to a degree that could only have been madness, “I don’t know how to do it myself! Do you think anyone is interested in teaching me magic? You think I don’t hear what they call me? Poor Elain, broken Elain. If you’re just like every other faery in this stupid, wretched kingdom, I will do it myself. I will kill Cassian, and Rhysand, and Morrigan and”- Eris had to look. Gone was the controlled, vengeful glory- here was grief, shattering. He felt sick all over again, bile rising. It was effort, to swallow it down. “I thought you’d decided against slaughtering the entire gentry.” Elain blinked. Red-cheeked, pale lipped, a strange look like a smile flickered across her face. A laugh, made a ghost by circumstance.

"You think I could?” “Daisy will ensure no body is found, no magic unleashed,” Eris could not quite meet her gaze, “Start with the shadow singer. He’ll let you close enough to get the knife. That blade is not right. Will give you an edge against the others.” Caught, a moment of neither here nor there, Elain frozen. The future, doubtless. Eris took the time to rake back his disgusting hair. Fever sweat. He reeked of salt, arms a grey, hanging muddle, too much effort to move more until he’d regained his strength.