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[yanderedrabbles]

So I've been rereading the wild west gang cause I'm a degenerate who also lives in a bumfuck nowhere developing country who has nothing to do. So I've been thinking, it was established that if we would favorite one of the outlaws, it might be dangerous for the both of us. But what if we un-favorite one of them, if that makes sense. Like, what if only really struggled and cried when with the gunslingers, and obviously much less so with the others. Or even funnier, if instead of the gunslingers, it would be the pale guy (is that his name?).

Sorry for that brainfart. Keep doing the lord's work

P.S. I would also turn patriotic and join the army to protect your brilliant mind xx

oooh this is such a great question. I had to think about it for a while but I think not liking someone is a whole different dynamic.

Showing one of them more favour than the other's is a recipe for disaster. You're giving one man what all the others want, what they feel entitled to. It's going to bring about all sorts of ugly jealousy, even in a band as tight knitted as this one.

But if you don't like someone? If you show time and again that this person in particular has the touch most abhorrent to you? To them, that's just less competition. If anything, it makes them feel smug that it isn't them getting on your bad side. I can see a lot of mocking between them, a lot of smug insults traded when they drink too much.

How each outlaw reacts to being that person is entirely different though:

I think the boss will be calm about it. It's not surprising that you don't want him to touch you. He's a lot older, his hands are too hard with labour. Little thing like you probably spent her whole life dreaming of a lover soft and sweet, only to end up trapped by a bastard like him. He understands. And as the leader, I don't think he gets insecure about it either. He's already the top dog, he can afford to let the others enjoy your kindness. But it won't stop him from using you. Won't stop him from holding you down and taking what you don't willingly offer.

The gunslingers take it poorly. Manly, rough, mean. To them it's an insult that you're being more submissive or sweet with the other men. Are they not fucking you well enough? Are they not making you come hard enough? It's a slight against their masculinity.

They aren't the type to sit and reflect. They won't realise that maybe the reason you're so difficult is because they're just too rough with you. Hell, the thought won't even cross their minds. Their solution is to double down. To take it out on you with teeth and nails and cock shoved in when you're not nearly ready. If they can't make you love them, the least they can do is make you hate them the most. At least hate is passion of some sort.

The wrangler is hurt by it, but he won't show it. He's patient, gentle. A lot more insightful than people realise. He's spent years taming horses. He knows it's only a matter of time before you give in and accept his touch. He can wait.

(Btw, I don't think he'll actually end up being the guy you hate the most. If anything, he's the one in danger of your favour).

As for the boy, well, you feel pity more than anything else. Even when he's holding you down and eating you out, all you can think is that he never would have ended up like this if it weren't for the others. You don't blame him. You don't hate him. You just hope that one day he'll be free of this life.

I realise I didn't actually give the last guy a proper title, but he's actually the second in command. He also doesn't take it well.

Logically, he knows that you have the most reason to hate him. He's the one who planned this, he's the one who chose you. All your pain can be blamed on him.

He knows. He understands. But that doesn't stop him from hating it. He's the one who wants your love the most, he's the one who's longed for you the longest. It's so awful to finally have you and you won't even look at him. You hiss and fight and snarl when he takes you, even though he knows the others haven't had as much trouble.

His solution is also to just double down, but in a different way to the gunslingers. Instead of just getting angry, he'll try everything he can to be gentle. To win your forgiveness. He'll be so sweet when he fucks you, so slow and loving, even though he desperately wants to go faster. He'll kiss you every time he sees you, he'll hold you down and focus entirely on your pleasure, he'll bring you wildflowers and cook your favourite foods. He doesn't care how long it takes - he'll crawl on his knees for years if it means you'll forgive him. He'll do anything, anything at all. Please just look at me little dove, qīn’ài de, please.

He'll do anything in the world to win your forgiveness. Anything but let you go.

[merrinla]

Portrait spamming

Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD

Tav / Dark Urge

normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.

combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!

stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.

Astarion

normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?

combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.

stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.

Karlach

normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!

combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.

stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.

Gale

normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.

stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.

Wyll

normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...

combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.

stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.

Lae'zel

normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.

combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.

stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.

Shadowheart

all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.

Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(

normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...

сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?

stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.

Jaheira

normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.

combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.

stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.

Minsc

normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?

сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.

stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.

Minthara

all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.

[artytaeh]

hey babe! how are you doing? hope you are doing fine :) I know you are probably full with requests or projects, so please don't feel pressure to answer this :( But I was wondering, how do you think Mattheo would be once he realizes he is in love/developing feelings? Do you think he would try to push them away at first?

. 𖥔 ࣪˖ hello bae, i'm doing fine, tysm for asking! i am a little overwhelmed, however !! i hate the idea of discarding/ignoring the asks i receive <3 everyone is so lovely here. it ended up being a full-on lengthy thought... thank you for interacting!

THE (CATASTROPHIC) ART OF FALLING IN LOVE ; mattheo t. riddle.

mattheo doesn't know how to react to being in love with someone. one thing is physical attraction — mattheo is acquainted with the feeling of desiring someone, perhaps lusting over some physical contact here and there.

but that's something that eventually disappears, like a wave that comes at full force and fades into a gentle touch at the shore, drawing back to the large ocean. mattheo can be so attracted to someone today, then perceive them as someone who mingles with the crowd like, less than a month later. the problem here is that when feelings develop, they linger — and stay, for longer than one can control.

and why would that be a problem? well.

mattheo isn't used to attachments.

for someone who's been passed from hand to hand, born from two people who wanted to conceive power rather than someone to love, mattheo taught himself to rationalize that everything is temporary. that death eater lady who took care of him during his toddler years? yeah, somewhere along the way he was sent to another couple, then to someone else, and that formed a sequence of bad, worse and less bad historic of mattheo riddle's caretakers.

things are temporary. dangerous feelings like attraction — mattheo knows that lust can easily be mistaken with love — are meant to be short lived. desire, conquer, fulfill, abandon. and that's that.

but developing feelings for someone — merlin forbid, falling in love — is a much longer process. like falling asleep, one falls in love, sometimes for reasons that not even merlin himself could properly explain. mattheo doesn't like the vulnerability; one thing is wanting to fuck someone, another totally different thing is wanting to hold hands just because, spend time together for the hell of it without expecting some sort of carnal reward in return.

mattheo riddle fucking hates it.

because in a selfish world where the strongest suffer the least, mattheo can't afford weaknesses. he's already alone, very much prejudiced because of his recent and ancient bloodline, not a wizard with many people who would defend him.

so to want to protect someone, when he should focus on protecting himself, is dangerous. it's foolishness. it's another weight to his already heavy shoulders.

and this, anon, so i can give you the right context to why mattheo's first instinct is to be fucking angry about this stupid person that stole his well guarded heart. because mattheo doesn't have an history of exemplary adults to look up to, he can be, hm... childish. even in his anger, the way he seeks solutions for his problems can either be violent (mhm, to assert dominance) or some stupid shit that apparently, makes sense to him.

said stupid shit is sending an anonymous letter that goes straight to the point.

get the fuck out of my school, you freak.

very mature. definitely meant to provoke the desired outcome.

for a good while, probably during the time span of mattheo slowly — veeeery slowly — coming in terms with his feelings, mattheo goes through the five stages of grief.

DENIAL, even though the handful of slytherin outcasts he can count as friends will use any. given. chance. to absolutely wreck mattheo's patience with jokes regarding how much he's in love — which he isn't, thank you fucking much. mattheo will deny to his very grave that he couldn't care less about her; at most, sure, she's kinda cute and even stunning on days that he's more distracted and less guarded, but that's it! lust, everyone! hormonal boys being boys, alright?! nothing romantic about that.

even though he can't help but follow her with his eyes, mentally distant from whatever conversation to see her walking by. the sight of her existing totally unaware of him, probably hurts so good that it sends mattheo into another wave of denial. even if he was in love, it wouldn't work — so there's no feelings involved.

are doomed children even able to get such good things? no, mattheo assumes not.

ANGER, because these little things start to accumulate a heavy burden to his fragile patience. like a mad dog waiting for the chance to bite, mattheo starts warning draco and pansy to shut up about the puppy-in-love jokes, and even gives a warning glare to theodore and blaise, hoping that there's some peace from their side, too. mattheo feels like exploding whenever he's given lame advices for corny situations.

it's anger, because sometimes, mattheo thinks that he can't feel anything else.

BARGAINING, whenever the evidence becomes too obvious to ignore. at this point, mattheo has to, begrudgingly, admit that his excuses are so stupid that it gives him secondhand embarrassment for himself. for fuck's sake, voldemort's son excusing his lovesick actions for must-have-been-the-wind kind of excuse.

the gradual path to acceptance, although through baby steps, forces mattheo to reinforce the idea that he's in control of this whole situation.

if-only's are followed by what-if's, like a push and pull sort of situation, where mattheo sways between a stage of anger and denial, while unknowingly crawling his way to depression and acceptance.

DEPRESSION, because how can he convince someone to put up with his shit for longer than what, one night stand? despite his terrible reputation, there are girls more than willing to make out in a corner of some dorm party, or even more than that for the hell of it. but more than that? nah, no one is crazy enough to do that — remember? lust and love can be mistaken, but in mattheo riddle's case, it's easy for people to distinguish it with him. so yeah, just his luck.

as much as his friends might try to help him, mattheo is hardly convinced. it seems some stupid karmic trial sent his way, because he is, supposedly, not struggling enough. sure, throw some heartbreak and highschool failed romance on his way.

the whole 'depression' stage is filled with overthinking. either silly daydreaming of what will never happen, to following the sight of her everywhere she happens to exist where he does, too. then, it happens to be unintentionally noticing very little things about the person he likes — and convince himself that it only serves as more incompatibility, because you'd have to be crazy to be with someone whose surname happens to be riddle.

yeah, some things just aren't meant for him, are they?

ACCEPTANCE, however, is the stage that finally offers some peace of mind to him. mattheo accepts that bargaining and getting angry at his feelings won't do shit — by now, he's used to the whole butterfly-stomach-bs that some fourth-years were chanting about in the great hall, and the natural anxiety he feels whenever she's near. the tingling in his fingers, because he wants to touch, to protect, to be equally loved too, but ends up being another fistful on his pockets' fabric in the end.

unfortunately, this acceptance might only be fully achieved upon some major event. mattheo has to act subconsciously to accept that there's no way around it anymore — he's in love, he wants this person in the least selfish way possible, and he's fucked because of this.

if you want my opinion, the easiest trigger to this stage would be anything that sparks mattheo's protectiveness. the moment that he feels good about having helped her, it's over. mattheo isn't his own priority anymore — she is.

after trying to push her away, even if that means to distance himself from every little thing that reminds mattheo of her and, consequentially, his weak feelings for this girl, mattheo will surrender to it. this time, he carefully reapproaches her — tiptoeing his way back, ambitioning for a possible connection, or the slightest friendship that allows him the peace of being in her presence.

it could take a good amount of time for mattheo to convince himself that he can, and should, take a chance. it's not the same as flirting with someone into getting something carnal out of it — it's the attempt to open a potential door for a relationship, which he really, really wants to, even though mattheo has no good examples of it. at fucking all.

but for her?

he'll try.

and merlin help him if he won't even read some stupid book to properly understand it. give him a chance — and he'll be a good boyfriend.

as good of a boyfriend as bellatrix lestrange and the dark lord's lovechild can be.

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

—

Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

[gfmima]

category : 米哈游 原神 work title : matchmaker, he’s actually in love with you!

slam!

the towering doors of the sanctuary shut with force, echoes that reaches every corner of its four walls. nahida, sitting on her makeshift swing, was quick to react. she descends from the swaying contraption, her curiosity piqued by the abrupt return of wanderer.

huh? he’s back early, she mused to herself, her nimble walk quickens, each step punctuated by a skip, as she makes her way towards him. she cannot help but be keen to learn how his evening went.

a fleeting glimpse into his mind had been all it took to ignite her interest. the flowing stream of commentary he provided were nothing short of fascinating.

from the minute she caught wind of your attempt to set him up with a good friend of yours, the young archon had a lucid premonition of how it might unfold — a disaster in the making.

as she approaches him, she wears a smile that conceals her amusement for his situation, covering her knowledge of his plight. she begins with a simple, “how was it?”

his response was immediate and fervent.

he jumps from tangent to tangent, a barrage of complaints and disappointments. he paints a detailed picture of his date, describing her as a ‘bore’ and lamenting the lackluster conversation he made the mistake of engaging. he afforded no adjective in critiquing her.

yet, it was his thoughts about you that intrigued her.

he proceeds to vent; he spoke of the audacity you displayed by assuming he would devote his night to such trivial endeavors, the gall to think he should allocate his time for a nuisance you believed to be a ‘perfect match’ bothered him beyond comprehension.

what were you thinking?

at this instant, she manifests a swing to sit on.

the conversation between them soon develops into a back-and-forth as they delve deeper into the truth of his feelings — or rather, his reluctance to confront them.

“i don’t have feelings for her!” he argues, crossing his arms.

nahida bites her tongue to stop herself from asking why did he sound upset. she was wise enough to know it would only irritate him further. still, she forges ahead, calmly swinging, her voice maintaining a balanced cadence.

“if there’s nothing romantic, then, perhaps there would be no issue if another man were to court her? or if she—”

his reaction was palpable.

wanderer takes a step forward, his indigo eyes narrowing in on her. in that moment, she envisions the formidable figure he must’ve been in his past life as a harbinger; a scene that could undoubtedly be intimidating to mortals.

“what have you heard? is there another man courting her?” he persists in his ramblings, pinpointing a man whom he suspects and going on about your incompatibility, counting every plausible reason it wouldn’t work. his speech appears more like an effort to reassure himself than convince her.

wouldn’t it be easier to accept the truth?

“what is there to accept? there’s nothing to accept. why do you speak as if i’ve fantasized about her! like she haunts my mind?” his rushed words hung heavily in the air, a pregnant pause ensues. he slipped up, and he knows she knew it too.

“don’t even try it, buer.”

he can almost hear her answer: “i didn’t imply it, you did!” and it pushes him further down the rabbit hole.

the young archon watches him struggle to cope with what he felt, wrestling with the reality he had tried to bury underneath a facade of indifference since he first met you. it was a tangle of emotions, especially after long centuries marked by constant betrayal and tragedy. flustered by the whole ordeal, he starts to walk away from her.

“i’m glad to see you’ve come to terms with your feelings. as they say, the truth shall set you free,” she chirps, however, it comes across mocking to his ears.

he scoffs at her.

slam!

then, the doors fall shut once more, sealing the discussion with resounding finality.

nahida shakes her head with a sigh, her smile widening. ah, young love. it was a powerful and unpredictable force, capable of unraveling even the most composed individuals. with a nod, she decides to give destiny a nudge in the right direction, all for the sake of her friend.

inside the dimly lit atmosphere of hotel debard, lyney found himself in a strange predicament…

perched at the table, he speaks with a minor drawl — a clue to the quantity of alcohol he consumed within the last hour, his elbow rests on the mahogany surface and his head prop wearily in the palm of his hand.

the muted radiance of candlelight cast shadows on his face as he rambles along with a hint of longing and frustration.

across from him sat his date for the evening, a co-worker of yours too, swirling her white wine. her gaze directed at him, as she absorbed his every word and nodded here and there.

the tone of his voice brings a weight of distraught emotions as he went on a melodramatic retelling of his woes, most of it concerns you. he recounts everything; the subtle nuances in your actions, the glances exchanged, and all the personal endearments said.

“i can’t understand why she would do this to me…” he huffs, drawing an involuntary pout to his lips.

“me neither,” she murmurs under her breath, then indulges in a lengthy sip of her wine.

“my sentiments exactly, i’m glad we agree.”

he was not listening in the slightest degree.

the seconds tick away — one by one, it added to the tension in the restaurant.

he didn’t hide the offense seething beneath the surface. the idea of you, the object of his affection, organizing a date with another woman, whom you believe to be his match, for him was infuriating. how dare you! he ponders, he sincerely thought there was a connection with you…

a wave of bitterness streamed inside of him, reflected in the frown creased on his face, yet he remained composed as he can be.

were you oblivious to his advances? or was this an excuse to avoid confrontation, a indirect rejection of his feelings?

after all, lyney had not been sly in his pursuits, he was more than daring.

he left a stem or two of rainbow roses on your doorstep, the existence of morning dew upon its petals suggests its early harvest; he had gone out of his way to help you, his shoulders endure the memory of carrying heavy baskets of fruit picked from your garden; and he walked you to and fro your home and workplace daily.

his devotion had known no bounds…

and this merely scratched the surface!

he stayed up with you on long nights when you had to work additional hours; he slipped your go-to pastries, that he purchased with his own mora, into your tote — a gesture of care, a reminder to take breaks; he had even introduced you to his siblings and invited you to dinners with them.

your company had become so frequent, it was expected, an acceptance of your spot in his life.

he likes you.

he likes you.

he likes you!

he yearns to bellow it from the rooftops, just so you’d grasp the depth and intensity of his feelings. he considers stating it at the outset of every performance, leaving no doubt that what he felt for you was far from a joke.

as he continues to passionately recount, his date’s patience wears thin and thinner by each syllable. sighing, she carries his monologue to a halt.

“are you sure you only ‘like’ her?” her voice had a faint touch of annoyance. he raises a brow, prompting her to clarify her remark. she leans forward, exclaiming:

“just admit it! you’re in LOVE with her!”

her words hover in the enveloping silence, the mutterings of conversation from the neighboring tables eclipsed them. he mulls over her previous question once more, the realization gradually dawning on him. she, visibly exasperated, rolls her eyes. how can he be so clueless?

“be honest, lyney… be honest WITH her,” she urges, “you’re in love with her, and it’s glaringly obvious. i’m shock it took you this long to realize it.”

a pause.

“what if she doesn’t feel the same way? i don’t think a man can recover from such heartache.”

“but she DOES!” she affirms, “you need to tell her how you feel — vocalize it! she’ll reciprocate, i know she will because of the way she tried to charm me into agreeing to this date.”

he thinks about it, he thinks about you, about the moments you shared, and about the true nature of his feelings. should he take the chance? the urge to stand from his seat and find out what awaits if he does overcome him… and yet he quelled it.

he realizes how discourteous it would be of him if he left her alone, subjected to the gossip of the other patrons.

“go after her. i’ll be fine.” she waves him off. “trust me.”

with newfound determination, he left without another word, the echo of his hurried footsteps waning into the cool night. the path ahead was filled with hope as he ran to your home, ran to you, the woman who captured his heart.

[anachronismstellar]

I'm still in a weird mood, but at least I'm writing lol

This was supposed to be a fun/cute cumplane fic, but my brain got taken over by @mysteryteacup post about Airplane being a good writer he just couldn't afford the time to write.

Hope you guys enjoy it!

-----------

"Do you think we would have met before?"

The question came a bit out of nowhere, disrupting the soft mood of the bamboo house. The weather was warm, rain hitting the roof in a soothing pattern, the open doors bringing in the green hues inside the living room along with a gentle breeze.

Shen Yuan closed his book, setting Airplane's latest story aside. The plot was not so terrible now that they had stepped down as peak lords. Retirement had a good look on him, made his shoulders relaxed and his posture elegant, as if he had finally made himself comfortable with his body, fear a mask long forgotten.

"What do you mean?" Shen Yuan didn't pick up his fan as once he would, his own insecurities whispers from the past. Instead, he just turned his face at Airplane, both watching as smoke curled up from Airplane's long pipe.

Outside, thunder rolled over them like the Gods were dragging clouds heavy as stones.

"Before," Airplane waved at the scenery in general, and it didn't need much for Shen Yuan to catch what he meant. "I mean, I didn't participate in any of the big conventions they invited me, but..."

Shen Yuan hummed, head tilted to the side, imagining how would he react if he ever met Airplane under other circumstances. It would have been disastrous for sure, both of them struggling with the different challenges of a world without flying swords and demons. Would they even be friends? Probably not. Shen Yuan had spent so much of his time stuck on his own head, going from doctor after doctor, too bitter to enjoy nice things, dedicating his whole life on hating a poorly written book. And from other conversations, he knew that Airplane had been bitter as well, sacrificing his words and his world in the name of the next meal, the next rent.

"I don't see how," he reached for his cup of tea, heating up his cold hands against the warm porcelain. "Like you said, you never went to the conventions. I didn't either, to be honest. Too many people."

Shang Qinghua nodded slowly as he filled his lungs with smoke, letting it go through his nose. Shen Yuan waited for a bit longer, curious to see where Airplane wanted to get with his question. He was almost picking up the story again when-

"I was just..." He started as he put his pipe down to comb his hair with his fingers, putting the strands behind his ears. Another big change from when they had passed their mantle to the next generation: Airplane had started to wear his hair down, Northern braids adorning the sides of his head, silver beads glittering among chocolate brown. "Is the book good?"

The sudden change of topic made Shen Yuan blink. However, it wasn't as if he weren't used to Airplane's mind jumping around, so he just took it in stride, nodding slowly.

"I enjoyed how you developed the main character relationship with his old master, although I still think you should stop killing mothers left and right."

Airplane couldn't help but chuckle, his smile making his eyes curve into half moons.

"Leave some tropes for me to work with, bro, there's so much this poor writer can come up with!"

Shen Yuan could only roll his eyes at the other, picking up the book once more, touching the pages without actually reading it, just enjoying the feeling of paper on his hands.

"Well, it is an improvement. And as always your beasts are impeccable, I'll give you that."

And he regretted immediately the compliment when Airplane dramatically clutched his robes, pretending to faint. The little shit.

"Oh! Oh praised be the Heavens! A compliment from the immovable Peerless Cucumber! Oh my heart! My heaaart-"

Shen Yuan did his best to hold back his frustration and just throw his fan at the writer. Good thing that Airplane calmed down again, chin up so he could stare at the top of the bamboo trees outside. Only then Shen Yuan realized that the entire time Airplane hadn't looked at him.

He felt an uncomfortable weight in his stomach, heart squeezing tight.

"Are you going to tell me what is this about?"

Airplane took a long drag of his pipe, bending his head back a bit further to blow little circles in the air. He should be thankful that Shen Yuan had worked on his patience in the past decades, or he would have been hit with a fan already.

"I was thinking of your first review for Proud Immortal Demon Way," he said as he tapped the pipe on a little vase Shen Yuan had offered him earlier to use as ashtray. "You were so mean... I couldn't write for like two days."

They had commented about their forum fights before, they have even apologized for some things they had said to each other back then, but Airplane had never-

The thought of hurting him so bad to the point of making him give up on writing was-

"Huang Hua..." He whispered as he took the writer's hand close to him, brushing his thumb over the callous on his forefinger.

"Don't look at me like that, bro... Don't mind me, I'm just-" he cut himself off with a sigh, squeezing Shen Yuan's hand back. "I've been in a weird mood that's all."

Shen Yuan understood, he understood a bit too well. For all they enjoyed the benefits of magic and cultivation, they weren't meant for this immortal world, Huang Hua and him, human beings who had always had a clock ticking over their heads. He would get stuck on his own head, too, sometimes; making Binghe walk around him with soft steps and prepare his favorite foods.

He loved his husband food more than anything blessed be Airplane for deciding to make the main protagonist a good cook.

But Binghe couldn't prepare him a burger the size of his head with golden french fries.

"Well, I think the new book is going great. And to answer your question, well-" Then it was Shen Yuan's turn to pause, trying to imagine how their meeting in the real world would go. Poorly, for sure, but also... Shen Yuan was old enough, wise enough to admit that if he knew Airplane's struggles, he would probably have helped. He had been so rash in his comments because he had seen the potential, the grandeur of Airplane's mind, while describing the fauna and flora of Proud Immortal Demon Way.

"I don't know, I think if we had met, we wouldn't become friends," he admitted with a shrug, keeping his face towards the forest, feeling his cheeks burning. "I was... I was going through a lot and you had your own problems too. But depending on the day I might would have asked for an autograph." And what an embarrassing thing to admit. And while holding Airplane's hand nonetheless! Muscle memory made him take his fan and snap it open, the sound muffling Airplane's giggles.

"Well, I can't autograph your Binghe body pillow-"

"Shut up it was a collectable item!"

"- but I can autograph this copy if you want." and then he tapped the book on the table with his pipe, Shen Yuan's eyes going wide as plates.

"What?"

"I had to change a lot of things... Mostly the names and places, but-" Airplane nervously played with his hair, stealing glances at Shen Yuan's direction. "I thought, now that everything is kinda over, why not write it properly, right? Besides, the entire Proud Immortal Demon Way had never had a beta reader, although I thought about asking you sometimes way back but uh-"

"I've could have been your beta reader?!"

"Well, yes, in a way you kinda were- wait. Haven't you noticed?" Airplane let go of his hair to turn his entire body to Shen Yuan, surprise written all over his face. "Bro, you're the only person I answered more than once on the forums. Most of the time I couldn't take your ideas and use them, that would be insane and asking for a lawsuit, but when you gave me writing advice? Or when I needed to remember which wife was which or who had died? I used your comments to remember what had been happening in the last chapters."

Shen Yuan's hands got tingling all over, his face heating up to the point of boiling. He had always thought Airplane had despised him, and it was with reason. He knew he had been a hater, to the point of Airplane remembering his name after years, but he had never known that Airplane actually had paid attention, he had actually-

Wait, rewind, write what properly-

"Hold on, you're telling me that-" he picked the book again, scanning the first page and then the second, recognition downing upon him. It had felt familiar when he read it for the first time, but he had thought it was just him being used to Airplane's stories. But this...

"Proud Demon Immortal Way could have been this good?" He gasped as he turned to stare at the author, shaking the book on his hand. To which Airplane had the audacity to shrug, light pink dusting his cheeks.

"Told you many times, Bro. No time to edits, had to pay the bills."

"Airplane, how many drafts you wrote before posting that monstrosity?"

"Uh." He turned his face away again, scratching the back of his neck, then his cheek. "I mean I didn't have a draft. I wrote it down in one sitting most of the time-"

Shen Yuan was going to pass out. No wonder the story made no sense most of the times! And he still was able to follow some type of plot?!

During their lifes as cultivators, Shen Yuan faced many situations in which Airplane had his turn to shine. He might not be aware of it, oblivious writer that he was, but he could be insanely smart and think fast enough to avoid wars between tribes that any other person would fumble and make it worse. So he knew how intelligent and smart Airplane was, although he wouldn't straight up compliment him like that.

But this... Six thousand six hundred and sixty-six chapters with no draft or beta reader? This... Was insane.

"You better honor Shen Qingqiu's past this time," he heard himself say, mouth moving before his brain could catch up. And funny enough, he had mean it. "You better give him closure so I can at least glare at Yue Qingyuan without feeling guilty."

This time Airplane threw his head back and laughed, hand over his belly, the other tapping the table. Then he turned to look at Shen Yuan with his sly fox smile, forefinger moving side to side.

"Nonono, I'm sorry, bro. I'm not writing to make the readers happy this time," he said with a sharp nod, tapping his fingers against his temple. "There's a story to be told, and I'm not gonna mess up a second time."

And Shen Yuan felt as if he should be angry, he should shake Airplane by his shoulders and scream, but at the same time... He felt like Airplane had passed his test, one he wasn't aware he had set for the other.

He huffed, sliding the book over the table until it was closer to the author, opening the first page.

"You better think of a hell of dedicatory then," he said as he got up to pick writing materials, warmth spreading through his chest to the sound of Airplane's laughter.

--------

Shen Yuan is going to find out some things about Binghe and Mobei in the book lol

Again, thank you for giving it a read!

See you next time~

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - May 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Support me on Ko-fi! Also, if you tip me on Ko-fi, at the end of the month I'll send you a link to all of the articles I found but didn't use each week - almost double the content!

1. Translocation of 2,000 rhinos in Africa gets underway in “one of the most audacious conservation efforts of modern times”

“The 2,000 rhinos - more than are currently found in any single wild location in Africa - represent around 12-15% of the continent’s remaining white rhino population. […] “Rhinos perform an important ecological function in the environment as a large grazing herbivore,” says Dale Wepener[….] “The protection of rhino is far more than just looking after rhino; other species that occur in the protected areas will benefit from the protection,” explains Jooste. “This will lead to an increase in diversity and result in much healthier ecosystems.”

2. Florida Corridor Buffers Effects of Climate Change on Wildlife — And People

“A massive multi-partner effort that has conserved 10 million acres for wildlife in Florida over past decades will help buffer wildlife—and people—from the effects of climate change, a new report says. […] Protecting these corridors is important for wildlife genetics, demography and connectivity […], conducting prescribed fires in the corridor can reduce the risk of more intense wildfires [… and] they can provide buffers against hurricanes and seasonal thunderstorms.”

3. Global life expectancy to increase by nearly 5 years by 2050 despite geopolitical, metabolic, and environmental threats

“Increases are expected to be largest in countries where life expectancy is lower, contributing to a convergence of increased life expectancy across geographies. The trend is largely driven by public health measures that have prevented and improved survival rates from cardiovascular diseases, COVID-19, and a range of communicable, maternal, neonatal, and nutritional diseases (CMNNs).”

4. Valencia has Spain’s longest urban park

“Jardin del Turia (Turia Garden) is the green spine of the City of Valencia and Spain’s (and possibly Europe’s) longest urban park stretching for a length of 8.5 kilometres [… and] the current administration plans to make Jardin del Turia Europe’s largest city green space by extending it to the sea[….] Almost all Valencia residents (97 per cent) live within 300 metres of an urban green space. […] Jardin del Turia is a true urban oasis that provides exceptional thermal comfort, with a temperature difference of up to three degrees compared to other areas of the city.”

5. This Paint Could Clean Both Itself and the Air

“When an artificial ultraviolet light source shines on [photocatalytic] paint, the nanoparticles react with pollutants to make them break down—theoretically removing them from the nearby air and preventing a discoloring buildup. [… R]esearchers developed a new photocatalytic paint that they claim works using UV rays from ordinary sunlight, making its self-cleaning properties easier to activate. They’ve also shown that they can effectively produce this paint from recycled materials [including fallen leaves].”

6. Planting Seedlings for a Cooler Rockingham

“A dedicated group of volunteers recently planted over a thousand native seedlings in Lewington Reserve [… and] re-established canopy cover to areas of the reserve to create cooling shade for the local community and provide homes for native wildlife. […] Planting lots of trees and shrubs in urban areas can help create shade and cool cities, mitigating the impacts of climate change, contributing to biodiversity conservation and building greener, more resilient communities.”

7. Sydney’s first dedicated affordable housing for trans women designed to deliver ‘positive outcomes’

“Community housing provider and charity Common Equity NSW, […] which is for people on very low to moderate incomes, prides itself on creating inclusive living and promotes the independence and well-being of people and communities […, and] will deliver the first-of-its-kind social housing in a bid to provide a safe place to live for transgender women seeking an affordable home.”

8. Rewilding: How a herd of bison reintroduced to Romania is helping ‘supercharge’ carbon removal

“170 European Bison reintroduced to Romania’s Țarcu mountains could help capture and store the carbon released by up to 84,000 average US petrol cars each year. […] By grazing a 48 square kilometre area of grassland in a wider landscape of 300 kilometres squared, they helped to capture an additional 54,000 tonnes of carbon each year. That is around 10 times the amount that would be captured by the ecosystem without the bison.”

9. World’s biggest grids could be powered by renewables, with little or no storage

“[…] 100% renewable supply can then match the load by putting surplus electricity into two kinds of distributed storage worth that [an energy expert] says are worth buying anyway – ice-storage air-conditioning and smart bidirectional charging of electric cars, and recover that energy when needed, filling the last gaps with unobtrusively flexible demand.”

10. Supporting the Long-Term Survival of Copper River Salmon and Alaska Native Traditions

“With $4.3 million in NOAA funds, the Copper River Watershed Project and The Eyak Corporation will remove fish passage barriers, opening more streams for salmon spawning and subsistence fishing. [… As part of this effort, o]ld narrow culverts that constrict water flow will be replaced with “stream simulation” culverts wide enough to fit the full stream, including its banks. They are also deep to allow contractors to place stones and other material inside to mimic a natural stream bottom.”

May 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[crimsonender]

You stupid fuckin shut in. The house you live in, the fact you have access to affordable housing at all, is thanks to the work the NDP has done in this city. Their platform has been things like affordable housing and better access to healthcare for all. For years. (The Liberals platform is "strong economic development" just for the record. They're the ones you can thank for the gentrification of old previously affordable neighborhoods) They work with organizations like ACORN which is a union of low to moderate income group that advocates for these things, and has secured things like rent cap and are responsible for bolstering tenants rights on a national level. There are MLAs in this city that have a life long history of involvement in grassroots movements for BIPOC, LGBTQ people, and disabled people, that have gotten to Canada's National stage.

But yeah, sure. Back the motherfucker that lied and went back on his promises. Guess you can't help but feel some sort of kinship for the guy that brownfaced and reacts to all criticism by getting immaturely emotional.

The reason that many people think the Liberal Party is progressive is because they say things like "we want to develop x and prioritize y" without actually making any positive or negative claim one way or another. "Develop housing" doesn't really mean anything. It doesn't mean rent control or affordable housing. It allows voters to project whatever will get them to vote Liberal. Lily is projecting "develop housing" to mean "develop low income housing" when in effect it means "knock down old affordable buildings and build new expensive ones that require a two income house hold to rent. "Prioritizing healthcare" doesn't mean "more doctors in communities that don't have enough" it means "build a new and expensive hospital to impress people in a city where the most voters possible will see it." Liberals are the kings of "oh it's voting season better send some construction companies out to the major highways to make it look like we're doing something." And Lily had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

Unbelievable.

[itsnesss]

hi! can i ask for a second part of falling into silence?

𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | axel kovacevik × fem!reader

OO1. OO2.

summary | after Axel's cold departure leaves you hurt and confused, your resolve to focus on the competition falters when you must face the iron dragons in a crucial match. as emotions boil over, an intense confrontation develops both inside and outside the tatami

warnings | emotional distress, mild physical injury, tension-filled confrontations, implied romantic and emotional intimacy

word count | 2.8 k

author's note | sorry for the delay of this second part, it had been requested for a while

it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The morning of the tournament began with a sense of emptiness in the air. The echo of the combat noise felt distant, as if everything was happening beyond your reach. Axel had left without a word, leaving you alone in the room still filled with uncertainty and the pain of what had happened. You had tried to rationalize the situation, but something inside you kept turning over. The memory of his indifference, his coldness as he left, gnawed at you. You felt confused, hurt, but most of all, determined not to let it affect you in the tournament.

"The tournament is what matters," you murmured to yourself while dressing in your training gear. You knew you couldn’t let anything or anyone distract you. The challenge was in front of you, and you had to be ready. The semifinals were about to begin, and only the best dojos would advance to the champions' tournament. Miyagi-Do couldn't afford another failure.

The buzz of the event was intensifying as the teams lined up in the ring for the explanation of today's combat.

When the referee began explaining the rules for the round, your concentration broke as you felt that gaze. You knew exactly whose it was. Axel was there, somewhere beyond your field of vision, but you could feel his presence. He was watching you, and just knowing it made you feel even more vulnerable.

You forced yourself to ignore it, not to give it more importance than it already had, but his eyes seemed to pierce your concentration. You were aware of how your body reacted, how even without seeing him, you felt the weight of his gaze. You were angry at feeling so affected, and that anger became the engine that drove you forward.

The sound of the microphone echoed again, and the referee announced that it was time for the teams. Miyagi-Do was called first. The moment had arrived.

"Miyagi-Do, prepare!" the referee said.

Your heart pounded as you stepped forward, but upon hearing the next announcement, the world seemed to stop. The next match would be against... Iron Dragons.

They approached the ring to begin. The arena filled with murmurs, and an uncomfortable sensation coursed through your body upon seeing Axel standing in the center of the combat circle, waiting for his turn. His cold gaze met yours, and time seemed to freeze. Something inside you shattered, and you couldn't do anything but move directly toward him.

"What are you doing?" Axel asked, his deep voice laden with confusion as he saw you in front of him.

There was no looking back. You couldn’t let what had happened between you stop you. With each step toward him, something inside you resolved. Maybe you just wanted to vent, or perhaps you needed to confront him somehow. But there you were, in the center of the ring, determined to face him.

Axel positioned himself, ready, but his body tensed. It was clear he hadn't expected you to confront him directly. He shot you a warning look, but you said nothing.

You advanced toward him with determination. Every punch or kick you threw was simply blocked by his arms.

"Fight!" Just as you were about to attack again, Zara from his team intervened.

"Axel!" Zara shouted, slightly nervous. "Tag me!"

Axel hesitated but finally complied. In a swift movement, his hand touched Zara's, and she advanced into the ring. The match began.

Zara was fast, relentless. Every move seemed aimed at wearing you down, forcing you to make mistakes. You couldn’t stop thinking about Axel, and that only made you more vulnerable. Zara's strikes came fast, unexpected. A precise blow made you lose your balance for a second.

But the pain you felt wasn’t just physical. As you fell, a pang of frustration and rage coursed through your body. Unwanted tears threatened to fall, but you forced yourself to maintain composure.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in your ears, but the pain in your leg was the only thing you could feel. Zara's blow had been direct, and as you hit the ground, the pain shot through your body. The fight was immediately stopped, and the referee quickly approached to check if you were okay. However, you knew you weren’t. You had been forced to leave the ring.

They took you to the locker room for examination. The silence of the room enveloped you as you sat on one of the benches, your leg immobilized with a bandage. Despite the pain, your mind kept replaying what had happened.

Just when you thought it couldn't get worse, you heard footsteps behind you. You slowly turned, and there he was. Axel. His presence surprised you. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, even though all you wanted at that moment was not to face him.

"How are you?" he asked in a deep voice, his gaze fixed on you, but there was something different in it, something softer, something you hadn’t seen before.

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze.

"Now you care?" you asked with a mocking tone, though your words carried more sadness than you had expected. "After what happened, do you really care how I am?"

Axel frowned, clearly confused. He didn’t understand what you were saying.

"I don’t understand what you mean," he said, stepping closer.

You stood slowly, the sharp pain in your leg making every movement more difficult, but you didn’t want to show weakness in front of him.

"You don’t understand?" you repeated bitterly. "You left me after... all that. After what happened between us, and now suddenly you care. Why? Why now am I more than just a fighter in the tournament?"

Axel seemed surprised by your words. He said nothing, just looked at you as if processing what he had just heard.

Axel took a step toward you, as if finally understanding something he hadn’t before.

"You know you're more than just a fighter, right?" he said sincerely. "But it bothers me that you stepped up to compete with me. Did you do it to beat me? Or for me?"

You couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh, that same one that had escaped before when he spoke. But this time, the words came out more painfully.

"Yes, Axel. I stepped up because it hurt when you left. When you left after everything that happened between us. And now you're here, asking why..." your voice broke, revealing everything you had been holding inside.

Axel grimaced, clearly remorseful. It seemed something had changed within him, as if everything suddenly made sense.

"I'm sorry," his words were low, almost inaudible, but you didn’t need more to understand how he felt. "I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have left, but... I was scared. I didn’t want what happened between us to affect me in the tournament. I had a lot to lose and feared it would distract me. I didn’t know how to handle it."

You remained silent, watching him with slightly teary eyes. Something in his tone moved you, a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. Axel took another step toward youñ

"When you faced me in the ring, I could only dodge and block... not because I didn’t want to fight, but because I was scared. I didn’t want to hurt you. I know how much it hurts to be hurt."

The silence stretched, and finally, the sadness you had been holding back overflowed. Tears began to fall slowly down your face. Axel didn’t hesitate for a second before stepping closer and holding you tightly.

"Oh, Axel..." you whispered through sobs, as you felt his warmth surrounding you. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to feel something other than anger or sadness.

Axel held you tightly as if he didn’t want to let go. Finally, without thinking, your lips met, a soft kiss filled with everything you hadn’t said. A kiss loaded with emotions and regret.

The kiss between you intensified, the need to be together palpable in the air. Axel kissed you with a silent urgency, as if fearing something or someone might separate you again. But at one moment, you slightly pulled back, breathing heavily, and whispered with concern.

"Not here, Axel..." you said, your voice trembling. "Someone could walk in at any moment, and we have to go back to the tournament. We can’t stay here."

Axel, with a look that conveyed clear desire but also understanding, smiled softly.

"Don’t worry. No one’s coming, and... I don’t want us to stop now."

He lifted you without warning, intending to bring you closer to him, but as your foot touched the ground, a sharp pain shot through your leg. Immediately, you grimaced, biting your lip to stifle a cry of pain.

Axel, surprised, let you go and his eyes reflected genuine concern.

"I’m sorry..." he murmured, his tone full of regret. "I didn’t want to hurt you more. Are you okay?"

With a faint smile, you tried to reassure him.

"Everything’s fine..." you said, raising your hand to stop him, knowing the pain was only temporary. "It just caught me off guard a bit. Don’t worry so much."

Axel let out a nervous laugh, still worried but clearly relieved to see it wasn’t anything serious.

"You’re amazing, you know that?" he said, laughing softly as he carefully held you so you wouldn’t hurt yourself further.

Both of you laughed a bit, the tension finally easing, even though the world was still a whirlwind of emotions and challenges. However, you knew that at least in that moment, all that mattered was him—that brief respite that had brought you back together.

"Come on, you can’t stay here too long, they’ll come looking for me," you said, still smiling, knowing that what was between you wouldn’t go away easily.

[miserycanary]

MISSION: LOVE KILL  ᡣ𐭩 [trailer]

pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: the trailer to my very first full-length series set in a soulmate AU. 

pairings: (applies to future parts) angst, smut, fluff, mutual pining, misunderstandings, rivals to lovers to rivals, featuring Ghost's inability to communicate, graphic mentions of violence, might hint to sexual violence, BARELY PUT TOGETHER, torture, one bed trope, i-will-wait-for-you trope, loving-you-is-like-breathing trope, slowburn (unless I get bored and rush this), poor poor attempt in crack, will add more as we go on

The subtle searing pain on the back of his neck is enough reason for Ghost to hate the idea of soulmates existing. It wasn’t just the fact that he has lived up to his 30s feeling like a fire wasp is buzzing under his skin, it was that the government fully developed their system with pairs in mind. You mean to tell him that he has to have found his partner—who’s probably cities or even continents away—just so that he could fucking own property? Utter fucking bullshit, he calls it. 

‘Nutjobs! The lot of them’

It was also the fact he had to watch his mum’s so-called soulmate almost beat them up to death each day. How could someone whose single purpose in life is to torment them be his mother’s soulmate? Fate either has a weird take on the concept of love and the whole shenanigan or it’s fucking wicked. Either way, the S-word has left a bad taste in his mouth—and memory. He would rather die, not having property—or anything really—to his name if it means that he wouldn’t comply to the fucking standards of pairs. 

Or so he thought because, once again, life is fucking wicked like that. 

When he first broke the news that he would be retiring from the army, he expected his future days ahead full of smooth-sailing lounging. Maybe a cup of tea in hand or even some biscuits if he was feeling fancy. Imagine his shocked face when he inquired with a real-estate agent to finally have something to call home, no longer needing to stay by some cheap hotel with what his little pay could afford, that he cannot fucking do that! 

“Yeah, this would be good. Really nice stuff here,” Ghost gruffs. “Yeah? Well, let’s get started then. Um, here are the paperworks that you need to fill out. Uhh, you just need to input your government code and your partner’s. It is policy that you bring your pair in with you when it comes to legal documents, but I’m sure that we could make an exception for our veteran here,” the agent smiles; one that Ghost did not reciprocate. “I ain’t got a missus with me. Haven’t found them yet.” 

It was a simple explanation, not wanting to dwell too much on his reasons. Before he could even take the papers in his hand, the man retracts. Confusion etched on Ghost’s face while pity is on the man’s. “Oh, I am really sorry but you are legally required to have a partner before you could own property—or anything for that matter.” Ghost looked this agent for a good few minutes, anticipating the ‘sike’ that he desperately wishes to hear but only dead silence echoes. “Surely you could, say, make an except for a veteran?” he nervously chuckles out, trying to weasel his way into a fucking home. Nothing. Dead fucking silence that’s heavy with pity. Ghost loathes it.

Without even saying a word, he turns his back and starts walking towards the car he rented today, because you can’t even own a car in this government! He should have flagged it as weird when the lady in the car shop insists that he should rent first before buying something. So, now he sits in the dingy bar that Soap has dragged him into after he informed the force that he would not be settling anytime soon. After explaining his circumstance, he expected them to react like he did before, but no. They all replied like they knew this. Even saying stuff like, “you didn’t know?” Of course he didn’t! It wasn’t like Ghost was invested in property or anything for that matter while he was serving. All he cared about was surviving each day, and that is it. 

“Aye, cheer up, lad. Life ain’ that bad. Ya’ just gotta get them lassie, and all yer problems would go away,” the Scot on his right drunkenly offers advice—a shit one at that. Did he really think Ghost hasn’t stepped foot on every land they got deployed with heavy hopes that he’ll find whoever he needs to find there? He fucking hates it here. He should have not retired this early if he knew this would happen. Now he needs to go around the world and search for the lassie whose presence—or her lack thereof—is the root of all his problems. 

If finding a needle in a haystack is hard, imagine finding a lady that’s probably moving countries as he speaks with Soap. “Yeah, like that’s fucking easy,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes before lifting his mask just enough to down his shot of whiskey. The fiery burn of the alcohol down his throat is nothing compared to the one on his neck. He would rather have it cut at this point than to go on about this miserable lifetime any longer.

“Should I just cut and peel it off?” he mumbles to no one in particular; probably to Fate if that shit is listening. Seeing that no one else in the rundown bar is really paying attention to him, Soap takes the honour in replying to him instead. “According tae what I’ve seen, jobby pain is hee haw compared tae th' pain ye will feel in yer heart. Doctors say that th' pain goes tae th' heart instead while tripling”. Unprompted, Ghost curses like a fucking sailor. Saying stuff that will probably get him on the government's watchlist if he wasn’t part of the military serving this goddamn country. He risks his life daily and this is what he gets? Ungrateful bastards.

With a slam of the glass on the mahogany table, he stands up with a new profound determination. “Fuck it, I’m finding that missus if it’s the last thing that I do”. “Eyy, that’s the spirit, matie,” Soap drunkenly encourages him, which should have been the first red flag on this idea. Any idea supported by Soap is an immediate botch.

Well, what could go wrong? He’s retired anyway. 

Turns out, many could go wrong. Well, here’s to the fucking shit-show of his life.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: please give this love!!

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! @hotvinimon

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[missyandthemisfits]

The Black Bulls x Chubby!Reader

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

How would they react to developing a crush on a chubby magic knight??? Heck if I know but I got some ideas-

Asta 

- If there's one person on this list of suitors who just straight up does not care about size, it's this one right here

- You're strong, you're a great cook, and he has fun with you- that's all this one cares about, really

- Unfortunately, he's not the brightest bulb and he doesn't exactly get it when he's being approached romantically, so they're gonna have to spell it out in some way shape or form 

- It is only after you two are together that he realizes 'You know what? I think I've had a crush on you for a while now'

- Such a cute dork

Magna 

- Not gonna lie, he's gonna want someone whom he can lift so he can fLEX on everyone-

- That said if you're cute and sassy enough, man is hitting the workout sessions HARD, just to be able to carry all that gorgeous around town- basically the ultimate flex

- He obviously is the first to confess albeit extremely flustered and surprisingly full of self doubt 

- He's actually kind of insecure, especially about his looks - go easy on him 

Luck 

- Honestly? Very into someone on the plusher side and for completely selfish reasons at that - huge, HUGE cuddler once you get him down long enough (plz wrestle him he wants it so bad)

- Is ever so slight the tease, doesn't help that he's incredibly subtle about it either 

- Makes a point to be around you damn near 24/7 so that way when he's not around, you definitely notice (calculated) the lack of lighthearted teasing

- Believe it or not, 100% makes sure he's got a fighting chance before confessing - he can't afford to be rejected by someone who means this much to him (can't handle that)

-Also be wary, randomly grabs you just... all the time, consciously and unconsciously. You've become his single yet constant source of comfort 

Vanessa

- Forgive her she means well, but may or may not unintentionally offend by offering up diets and routines and walks around town together - I SWEAR she's only trying to be kind

- If you're honest about your feelings on it though, she feels just AWFUL and apologetic and buys you many, many gifts to try and make up for it

- Truthfully, you guys just kinda ended up becoming an item one day - rumors of a drunken kiss still floating around town, unconfirmed 

- Doesn't mind it too much all in all, especially if you spoil her

Finral

- He's a little apprehensive about it at first, his mind barreling back into the teasing of how scrawny and weak he is and he's not entirely confident in his ability to shall we say satisfy -

- Buuuut quickly says 'Screw it' when he realizes how amazing you are, on and off the battlefield 

- When I say this man cannot WAIT for the end of every night just to hold you??? I MEAN IT

-  Very soft for his soft s/o, would give them the moon

Charmy

- You already know she doesn't care like come on

- And honestly, she may try to pressure you into many, many impromptu snacking sessions. Food is cooked by her 97% of the time, always. 

- However if you have any personal health or fitness goals, Charmy is more than capable of curtailing menus to be healthy AND tasty so that's a plus for sure - but you will have to drag her along if you want her to walk with you

- Again, the relationship just sort of happened - even you two aren't quite sure when

Gauche

- Sorry lovelies but this man's first ever comment may be about your weight, granted he was already upset about Asta and Marie earlier but STILL - no bueno

- It's only after he starts getting to know you that he realizes what complete ASS he was during that first meeting. Will eventually apologize for that, it's said very softly and he sounds kind of annoyed but he's more annoyed with himself than anything 

- It's gonna take quite some time to worm much of anything that isn't full of sarcasm out of him, let alone a confession, unless you decide to take that first step

- Hope you're ready for the slowest of burns -

Gordon

- If you think this awkward bean would EVER judge you on your weight, or anything for that matter, think again!

- Absolutely adores you for you; all your dimples and folds, all your past trauma, every facet of you is something he wants to learn more of and explore - absolutely all of it

- He develops a crush pretty early on but good luck getting that confession out of him 

- Absolutely will nOT confess until you do because he needs to be 1000% sure he's not gonna scare you off like he did the others...

- Hand holding is must, it comforts him so 

- Truthfully anything more than light sweet touches will send him to the moon, so be wary of feinting if you go in for a smooch

Grey 

- So very, very shy this one is

- Doesn't actually care about your size, only about how you treat others and most importantly yourself - won't stand for negative talk and bombards you with "T-that's not true at all...!" followed closely by an entire assortment of things that make you so great in her eyes

- Just... so damn sweet 

- You'll definitely be the one initiating anything and everything romantic, to include a confession so uh yea 

- Just LOVES holding onto your arm once she's comfortable enough, both for support and as something of physical affection 

Zora

- Yeeeea dubs you something akin to 'Chubs' upon meeting you, there's like...no way around that. He's mostly harmless tho...mostly

- Truthfully tho he's actually really attracted to curves - not that he's ever gonna tell you that (not without a teasing smirk and remark, anyway) 

- He's gonna be dropping the most subtle hints that he's interested in you and the harmless flirting is eventually gonna turn into legitimately pining on both sides so you just flat out tell him one day "If we're gonna keep going like this, we should at least be official..."

- He was content with a situationship of sorts, but a relationship certainly has it perks - ones he could get behind given time 

Henry

- This sweetheart is just ecstatic he's found someone with such a plethora of mana (or no mana at all, your choice), someone he can actually be around for more than a few seconds - he does NOT care  

- Helps if you're nice, but won't shun you away if you have a mean streak- he's not that type of guy

- Believe it or not, he's actually the first to cave and confess his undying love - and no that is not an exaggeration he genuinely falls very hard and very fast 

- His biggest dream is to be able to hold you in his admittedly frail arms, caress your hair, and whisper sweet nothings to you as you drift to sleep

- He'll keep that dream close to his heart until he can make it a reality

Secre 

- Not one for judgment, but also not one for romance so this one might be tough

- She's a sucker for people who are upbeat and positive though so if you've got that going for you, you stand a really good chance of at least grabbing her attention 

- Slowest of slow burns here, folks 

- You'll be the one administering the confession , as well as many complements, to a very adorably flustered Secre and boy is that priceless 

- She very much enjoys pockets, will constantly have her hands in yours for comfort - a little weird but very cute 

Noelle

- Yes absolutely she has a preference and it's definitely not chubby- no offense (please do not take offense I for one think you're amazing)

- It's gonna take someone with a strong backbone to handle the condescending frowns and holier-than-thou attitude that comes along with crushing on this one, you've been warned 

- It'll take a while of chipping away at her steely exterior before she's ready to give way to the fact that yea, you're pretty darn cute 

- You confess several different times before she gives it a real go - hang in there 

Nacht

- May come as a surprise, but he doesn't really care about size - just about the character of your person 

- So yes he's all for someone on the curvy side, actually one of the few that compliments you outright upon meeting you

- Probably puts you through a serious of subtle tests to see how suitable you really are and how compatible you may be with him (cause let's face it, he plays for keeps) but he's very honest about the fact that he's interested in pursuing you romantically 

- Touches are feather light in public, but he very much likes to have his hand at the small of your back or gingerly around your waist 

- A man who knows what he wants and is not afraid to pursue it? Hell.Yes.

Yami

- Excuse me but this guy dreams of having some short, curvy so and so on his arm - someone he can really grab onto

- He's got this glint in his eyes that almost creeps you out at first but is quickly squelched by the invitation to drinks

- It only takes 2 more trips to one bar or another for him to know he wants to start talking to you on a more personal level 

- Will grab ass anywhere, anytime so just... keep that in mind

- Less of a solid confession, more of a drunken offer, something along the lines of "Hey, we should totally make this a thing. This us thing or whatever it is-,"

- He's slurring and you're positive he won't remember a damn thing but he remembers everything, all the way down to how gorgeous you looked that evening 

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

A/N - I want you all to remember that no matter WHAT size you are; you deserve love, happiness, and to feel good in that beautiful skin you're in! &lt;3

[seriousbrat]

this says a lot about Snape's character development for me. There are many parallels drawn throughout the series between Harry and Snape; obviously, they're very different characters but there are similarities too.

I think here Snape is talking about himself. The teenaged Snape we see in the Pensieve is very much like this- emotional, heart on his sleeve, easily provoked, a definite wallower in sad memories... weak. Adult Snape, though he retains some of these characteristics that do emerge in stressful moments (in PoA we see how angrily he reacts to Sirius's escape, for instance) on the whole is a great deal more thoughtful, reserved, calculating, measured.

I think that Snape at some point had to force himself to become this. I think he actually relates to Harry here, and is giving him advice based on personal experience. In my fic he begins to learn to control his emotions partially out of a desire to protect Lily; he's fully aware that she's his weakness (or really, his strength, viewed a different way) and that openly displaying any sort of emotion towards her at all makes her vulnerable to the likes of Avery and Mulciber, who will have the perfect weapon to get to him if they want to.

Severus doesn't have the advantages of his peers, he's not pureblood, he wasn't born into money. If he wants to join the Death Eaters and rise in their ranks, he needs to be subtle, cunning, careful. he can't afford to be careless and entitled like mulciber or bellatrix or even sirius. what he's got to offer isn't his name or his money, it's his sheer talent and cleverness. moving on:

When Voldemort decides to go after Lily this becomes even more important. Imo the reason why Voldemort believes that Snape only "desired" Lily is because that's what Snape told him. He lied to Voldemort's face and told him something probably disgusting tbh because that's the only way Voldemort would accept it and agree, if it was a selfish, callous request that Voldemort could understand. We can see evidence of this here:

Asking Voldemort to spare a mudblood because he was in love with her would likely not have gone over well- and as we know, Voldemort actually bore his request in mind, though obv didn't give enough of a fuck about Snape to follow through. Because although asking voldemort to spare her must have taken serious balls, Snape's mistake here was trusting someone inherently selfish to do something selfless for him.

Clearly he immediately realises this and goes to Dumbledore, which is when controlling his emotions becomes of paramount importance, because now he's working against perhaps the most highly accomplished legilimens of all time.

It's also interesting to me that Snape in this conversation is probably the character who is most forthright and informative with Harry in the whole of OotP until Dumbledore at the end; Harry actually learns a lot in this conversation. And Snape also kind of gives him credit which is interesting too:

like for Snape that's high praise lmao. A shame because if he wasn't so bitter (i.e. didn't wear his heart on his sleeve so much around harry) then he might have actually been pretty helpful to Harry and a decent teacher. Again, during the Occlumency lessons his unrestrained emotion brought up by memories of James is a hindrance. He defies Dumbledore's orders to teach Harry Occlumency because of his emotional response to SWM, as well as honestly doing kind of a shit job before that (by not being empathetic and teaching Harry in a way that would've been actually productive.)

At this point Dumbledore believes that Harry learning Occlumency and controlling his emotions is of vital importance; he turns out to be wrong about this. In Harry's case, it turns out to be his emotional nature that saves him- unlike Snape, who is the opposite. Snape's journey is about learning that some things are more important than his selfish need to give into his own emotions.

By DH Snape's learned this lesson fully; his old hatred for James doesn't stop him from doing what has to be done, from giving Harry the tools he needs. Even in the final moments of his life, he can look past James and see Lily in Harry- and, by giving Harry the information that leads to his self-sacrifice, he can let her go.

[anonymous-dentist]

Bleeding Heart Part Five

Part One | Previous Part

-

"Mr. Balanar?"

"Yes?"

"Hi! I'm the nurse at your son's school, and-"

"What!? Is Richarlyson okay? What happened?"

"Well, unfortunately your son did have a bit of an incident this morning. He threw up all over his clothes, and he's running a slight fever. I'm going to have to ask you to pick him up."

"Of course. I'm on my way."

-

Cellbit lets out an anxious breath and slumps into a seat. His foot taps against the floor, his other leg bounces. He wipes his palms on his jeans and flashes a fake smile at the concerned secretary.

It's only been an hour and a half since Pac dropped Richarlyson off at school. Cellbit knows this because he knows Richarlyson's schedule better than Richarlyson does, he knows precisely when school starts, and he knows that Richarlyson has only actually been in class for an hour. The first half hour of his day is a school-provided breakfast.

It's only been an hour and a half, but Richarlyson has somehow developed a fever in that hour and a half. He wasn't sick earlier, obviously, so.

Is his son dying? No, right? He's fine. It might have been the breakfast. Richarlyson complains about it all the time, he hates it.

Maybe Pac just missed the fever. Richarlyson has a habit of not mentioning he's feeling sick until he's ready to be thrown into an ambulance; Cellbit understands, he feels the same way. Hospitals are too... cold.

So it's logical that Richarlyson is sick now. It's logical. Cellbit doesn't need to be worried.

Cellbit pulls out his phone to text Pac an update: 'Waiting in the front office now. Taking Richas home, I'll take care of him'

Pac, of course, wants Richarlyson to go to a doctor. But Pac also knows that nobody in the family can exactly afford a doctor; Bagi is the only one with health insurance, but it doesn't cover anyone but her.

(Pac also knows that Richarlyson can't so much as smell antiseptic wipes without acting out. So him going with Cellbit is probably for the best; nobody else understands just gets it.)

Cellbit doesn't react as the secretary buzzes someone else into the school. He doesn't react as the door opens beside him, and he doesn't react as he hears a small group of people walk into the office muttering amongst themselves. He keeps looking at his phone, mostly so the secretary doesn't feel obligated to try and calm him down.

But:

"Mr. Balanar, hello!"

And, suddenly, he can hear his own heartbeat and nothing else.

Slowly, Cellbit lets out a breath. He smiles, polite, and he places his phone screen-down in his lap. He looks up, and he nods oh so politely.

"Cucurucho," he very politely greets.

In all white stands C.B. Cucurucho, the Federation's 'civilian liaison' and Cellbit's worst enemy. The goddamn bastard.

They're smiling, because of course they fucking are. Their teeth are absolutely blinding- straight and white as a military graveyard.

"What a surprise to see you here!" they exclaim.

They lean closer, hands behind their back, head cocked slightly to the side. "Did you get my email?"

Nobody knows what the 'C.B.' stands for in their name. Nobody knows what their powers are. They're an enigma even down to their appearance: sleek, white hair down to their mid-back straight out of a shampoo commercial; pale skin akin to that of a corpse's; long, sharp nails like claws; and a pair of eyes constantly hidden behind black circular sunglasses. Their suit is sharp, their heels are pointed, and their lipstick is red.

Cellbit hates them.

Behind Cucurucho, their group of Federation employees all go to sign in to the front desk. There's a handful of people in suits and two heroes in goofy outfits who do not look like they want to be there. Newer ones, probably. Less popular than Bluebird, too, or they wouldn't have to be doing school events.

Cellbit nods. Doesn't say anything.

He and Cucurucho have beef. He hates Cucurucho, and Cucurucho doesn't really acknowledge beyond him being Detective Bagi Webber's twin brother. He wants Cucurucho dead, and Cucurucho sends him and Bagi Christmas cards every year. He wants to squeeze the life out of Cucurucho's shitty fucking heart with his own bare hands, and Cucurucho keeps adding him to the Federation promotional email list.

He and Cucurucho have beef.

The group of Feds all filter out of the office and into the hallway beyond, following the secretary to wherever they're supposed to be going, but Cucurucho stays behind. They're tall on their own, but them being in high heels and Cellbit being seated makes them loom above him almost imposingly. Their glasses are so dark that he can see his reflection in them, and he looks so small, somehow.

Cellbit bites back a shiver. Even with a jacket on, he's so cold.

"I hope you consider my offer," Cucurucho says. "I'm sure your camera has been returned to you by the police department by now. There shouldn't be any trouble getting those pictures over to me."

"Just ask Bagi for them," Cellbit politely huffs.

Cucurucho shakes their head. "And take the credit away from you? Come on, Mr. Balanar, who do you think we are? The Federation of Heroes takes pride in its civilian associates and their work. You'll be credited and compensated."

Kill yourself, Cellbit thinks. Fucking die already.

"I'm not interested," he flatly says.

Clicking their tongue disapprovingly, Cucurucho sighs and stands back upright.

"You know," they say, "I made an effort to look through your records before emailing you. It's a shame it never worked out between us, but I do think that a collaboration would work. You have talent, Mr. Balanar. The Federation could easily put it to use."

Cellbit shivers, pulls his coat closed across his chest subconsciously.

He doesn't respond. He just watches as Cucurucho turns to the front desk, flipping their hair back over their shoulder as they go. They sign in.

As they turn to follow their group into the school, Cucurucho pauses to give Cellbit one last look.

"I'll be in touch," they say.

And, with that, they leave.

Cellbit folds over in his chair as soon as they're gone, head falling into his (shaking) hands and shoulders tense and heaving. He can't fucking breathe-

The door to the school opens again, and Cellbit snaps his head up just in time to see the nurse leading a very embarrassed Richarlyson into the office with her hand on his shoulder. His clothes are damp, and his face is visibly shining with sweat.

Immediately, Cellbit is out of his seat and swooping in to pick Richarlyson up. He takes Richarlyson's backpack and slings it over his own shoulder.

"Come on, filho, let's go home," he murmurs.

"Yeah, 'kay," Richarlyson whimpers.

The nurse waves them off with a worried frown.

Richarlyson is so light, he always has been. But today, he seems lighter, somehow. Oh, God, is he dying? That's just what Cellbit needs, a dying son. Great. Great!

As soon as they're on the street and away from the school, though, Richarlyson starts wriggling and begging to be set down.

"What?" Cellbit asks. "No, you're sick, and I'm your dad. Shut up."

"But I'm not!" Richarlyson whines. "I made myself sick! Put me down!"

He kicks and writhes until Cellbit is forced to set him down on the sidewalk. Almost immediately, Richarlyson's face is back to normal. No sweat, no sickness, nothing.

On a hunch, Cellbit unzips Richarlyson's backpack and sees an open notebook in it. With. With a sick Richarlyson drawn inside it.

He narrows his eyes at his son, who just shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets.

"I didn't wanna go to the Junior Heroes presentation," he explains. "Fuck that."

"Oh," Cellbit quietly says.

The Junior Heroes... ugh. Everything about them makes Cellbit's stomach turn uncomfortably. They make him sick, actually. And it's not the kids' faults, but. But what kind of parents actually sign their kids up for what's essentially a war on crime?

Richarlyson jumps up to get his bag back. Cellbit lets him; he faked being sick, he can carry his own shit.

They start walking again, towards the subway that'll take them back to Cellbit's apartment.

"I didn't know they were coming today, or I would've skipped," Richarlyson continues. "I only found out after breakfast, and apparently they're recruiting or something? Today was supposed to be some huge presentation trying to get us to sign up, but, like, nah. Fuck that."

Cellbit nods. "Fair."

It explains why Cucurucho was there, at least. And the two heroes are probably graduates of the Junior Heroes Program.

Cellbit has beef with Cucurucho.

He extends his hand towards Richarlyson, and Richarlyson takes it.

"Come on," he tells his absolute genius of a son. "I'm proud of you for getting out of there. Let's get ice cream."

"What, really?" Richarlyson gasps.

Cellbit smiles at him. "Yeah, 'really'. You basically tricked Cucurucho. That deserves a reward."

Richarlyson cheers, and Cellbit cheers with him. Sure, they look stupid jumping and fist-pumping and shouting in the middle of the street, but if being annoying was a crime, Cellbit would have been arrested years ago. Richarlyson is a kid, he should get to be as annoying as he wants to be. He deserves that much, at least.

"You're my favorite dad ever!" Richarlyson exclaims.

"I'll be sure to tell Pai Felps that you said that," Cellbit teases.

Richarlyson gasps and shakes his head. "Noooooooooooooo, he's my actual favorite, you can't do that!"

"Sure I can. It'll be your punishment for abusing your powers in public."

"But dad!"

"You know the rules, Richas. If I have to follow them, so do you."

Richarlyson groans, but he knows that Cellbit is right. He hates it, but Cellbit is right. Cellbit hates it, but Cellbit is right.

With Richarlyson complaining, they turn away from their subway station and towards the street leading to Richarlyson's favorite ice cream parlor. With any luck, Bad won't be working today, so Cellbit won't have to explain why he's there with his son when he's supposed to be editing and Richarlyson is supposed to be at school.

(As they walk towards the ice cream parlor, Cellbit swears he sees a shadow following them from on top of the nearby buildings.

He flips the shadow off.

Fucking creep.)

--

A/N: Let me know what you think in the tags or in my inbox! I want to hear your theories, thoughts, opinions, everything!