#and how he wanted to emulate them when raising his own daughter

[yardsards]

do people who have listened to taz balance but not graduation Know that it was HEAVILY IMPLIED that lup and barry eventually adopted a lil sorcerer child who got disowned by his family for his natural necromancy magic, and they taught him how to use his powers for good and were overall great parents that he looks back on fondly

(and said child grew up to be a dimension-hopping lich, caretaker of the dead, and very sweet adoptive father of a major npc)

[zeravmeta]

sometimes im normal and then sometimes i think about how robin had been on the run for 20 years starting at age fucking 8 and when we meet her she's actively aiding in the destabilization of a country and gets so many people killed but one of the first things luffy says about her is that she isnt a bad person. I particularly think about her first appearance and her interactions with crocodile, because crocodile is (much like other OP characters) kind of a ridiculous man in his dramatic overcoat and his giant pets he feeds people to and. do you think robin was emulating him in that way with her own personal giant dramatic coat and cowboy fit. on the run for 20 years ever since she was a child, having to make herself useful to people so that they wouldnt suddenly abandon her, emulating her boss not only to gain his favor but also to try and appear intimidating herself? how many times had she done something like this. robin is a character who presents herself in so many ways, always wrapping herself up in an air of mystery and intrigue but shes also so deeply childish, she constantly makes morbid jokes about her situation because the last lesson one of the only people who cared about her gave her was that what else is there to do but laugh. to never stop laughing. having lived on the run she knows that an assassin is most effective when their weapon is concealed and yet she freely shows off her powers just to gain their trust. to play with luffy and chopper and usopp. how gratifying do you think robin felt when nami called her a sister. in skypiea she's constantly providing tactical assistance in how to survive in the wilderness but she's afraid when luffy and usopp start laughing at her suggestions. lets make a bonfire, robin! we're out camping, this is what you're supposed to do! she freezes in the same way she did when the kids on ohara laughed at her but even when the straw hats happily invite her to party she still stands on the edge, sitting further from the rest. she doesn't know what to do there. she had no will to live after luffy had saved her but one of the truly happiest moments she has is when she's not even cheering, just sitting in awe seeing the ancient city in the sky. was she thinking of her friends then? she never had friends her own age, just scholars multiple times her age and yet they were still her friends, who would never get to see this sight. when aokiji reappears and nearly kills them, shes stonefaced upon waking up that the straw hats even considered having a sleepover in her room. because they were worried about her. she's never had a sleepover, and it's something so simple to the straw hats, that of course they wouldn't see their friend as someone to use. she's never escaped the headspace she was in when she had to run away from the mountains of corpses of a burning ohara. the first and last thing her mother ever said to her was that she didnt know her, no matter how much she wanted to embrace her daughter. she never had the chance to say goodbye. she never had the chance to grow up.

sometimes i think about how nico robin was in many ways raised by her friends in the straw hats with their love for her and hauve covid

[corviids]

why does Aemond prefer girls and why does luke prefer boys? I just find it interesting

aemond is always more hesitant around boys cuz he knows how terrible seemingly innocent boys can grow up to be. he doesn’t dislike his sons, far from it, but with them he feels more of a need to be strict so they will grow up right and be good men. he has a harder time emotionally connecting with them. he doesn’t have this issue with his daughters. aemond already had a dormant protective instinct towards women bc how he saw his mother and helaena treated so him having daughters sets off that protectiveness. he’s more willing to have his guard down when with his daughters and it allows him to connect with them emotionally a lot easier. valerion is a special case because since he resembles luke so much, he triggers the same specific protectiveness he has for luke. basically, aemond doesn’t understand how to resonate emotionally with a son as a father since he never had anything like that to emulate so he struggles

luke connects better with sons because he grew up exclusively with brothers. he doesn’t actually show preferential treatment between his sons or daughters but in a weird way, he had the same complex as aemond: he knows how easily boys can become ill men in a society like theirs and he wants to preserve their kindness. luke emulates his own mother a lot and rhaenyra raised all sons. he’s just a boymom at heart

[bracketsoffear]

Vriska propaganda since Aranea didn't make it:

Her animal motif is arcachnids, especially spiders. Most of her quirks are general arachnid ones — her Trollian handle is arachnidsGrip, she has eight pupils in one eye, and when typing she used "8" to replace the letter "b" and sounds similar to "eight", as well as repeating letters or punctuation marks eight times for emphasis. She was also raised by a spider the size of a house, who forced her to bring a constant food supply of other trolls or be eaten herself.

Vriska's biggest boast is the number of irons she has in the fire, pies in which she has fingers, and euphemistic representations of the number and complexity of her schemes. It's now apparent that she doesn't really care if any of these irons conflict, provided they are irons and she has them in the fire. While she sees herself as a great manipulator, it seems that she is often manipulated herself, as clearly evidenced in Doc Scratch's final conversation with her. Although she would loathe to admit it, she envies Terezi a great deal because of Terezi's ability to manipulate people without the use of psychic abilities. This could be a possible motivator for Vriska, as she attempts to trick, deceive and backstab nearly every other troll - perhaps as a way to prove herself in Terezi's view or even in her own. When another troll calls her out on using mind powers, she either denies it to the point of absurdity or throws a tantrum. She is perpetually striving to be a manipulator in ways that terrorize and traumatize those closest to her, but always failing to escape the control of those who dominate her life, whether they be the dead ancestor hanging over her head or Doc Scratch using her for his own apocalyptic goals.

Vriska grew up idolizing her ancestor Mindfang, a pirate notable for a) owning slaves, including a mind-controlled sex slave, and b) being created from the wishes of Aranea (her pre-Scratch counterpart and Vriska's dancestor) to be the main character in her life. Vriska similarly wanted to emulate Mindfang and be the protagonist of her story, which set off the cycle of revenge. Vriska, acting as Tavros' guide during a FLARP session, manipulated him into jumping off a cliff with the help of her mind-control powers, intending for him to grow wings like his ancestor The Summoner (who Pupa Pan is based on). The Summoner was Mindfang's lover, and Vriska wants to turn Tavros into the next Summoner to fulfill her dream, regardless of his agency or wellbeing:

Transcript:

AG: Tavros, have I mentioned how cute you look in that plucky little outfit? AG: Why if I didn't know 8etter, I'd say I was playing with Pupa Pan himself! AG: Isn't that what you want, Tavros? To 8e like Pupa? AG: Of course you do! What 8oy wouldn't want to 8e like Pupa! So dashing and 8rave. AG: He is everything you are not! AG: For one thing, he can flyyyyyyyy. AG: Do you want to flyyyyyyyy, Tavros? AG: Have you ever tried to fly? I 8et you haven't! AG: How a8out we take to the skies, Pupa! AG: Hahahaha, oh you like that idea, Pupa? Yes, you do. I can feel it in your simple, mallea8le 8rain. AG: You want to fly so 8ad!

Tavros, unsurprisingly, does not grow wings and instead ends up paraplegic. Aradia sics ghosts on Vriska in revenge, so Vriska mind-controlled Sollux (who is strongly implied to have had romantic feelings for Aradia) into murdering her. Then Terezi tells Doc Scratch that Vriska has a Magic Cue Ball that Mindfang had stolen from him, so he blows it up and maims her. Vriska responds with a Psychic Double Reacharound (https://www.homestuck.com/story/2578)--mind controlling Tavros to force him to use his animal communion powers on Terezi's lusus (parent), making the lusus psychically compel her daughter into staring at the deadly sun and burning her eyes out.

During SGRUB, she continues to try and force Tavros into a relationship, using Pupa Pan as a rather transparent way to try and appeal to him and wanting him to stop being "useless" (read: paralyzed and timid, partially because of her abuse).

When that fails, she just forces herself on him and uses her psionics again to try and make him have red feelings (the closest thing trolls have to human romance) for her. It obviously doesn't work out, and she gives up in disgust.

While they're able to work together in the near future, she falls back on her usual controlling bullshit when he tries to revive her with a kiss (SGRUB is weird), forcing him to take her to her Quest Bed so she can go God Tier and lashing out at him when he can't bring himself to mercy kill her.

Here, she's using mind control to compel Tavros to write out her messages.

And still trying to make romance happen between them.

She tries to play on his desire to prove himself...

And takes it really poorly when he refuses to obey her.

That brown blood he's being forced to write in now--it's Tavros' own blood.

After Jack Noir destroys the Trolls' victory door and traps them on the meteor, Vriska starts mentoring John. She uses him as a pawn in her rivalry with Terezi and a pseudo-replacement for Tavros. Her manipulations are most evident when she psychically knocks him out and leaves him in a burning lake of oil to force him to unlock his powers:

Note how she immediately switches from "answer me now, I'm the most important thing to pay attention to" to "I wasn't impatient at all."

Then she spins endangering John as a good thing to help him become a hero--which she specifically wants to get credit for--and invokes his interests to get him to play along (similar to the Pupa Pan thing, only more successful.)

And here's the big reveal: Vriska stopped John from prototyping hte doll that would've neutralized Jack Noir, allowing Bec to prototype himself and give Jack godly powers. She also turns out to have set up Bec's creation and caused Jade's supposed narcolepsy (by using her powers on Jade throughout her entire life) as part of this scheme. Vriska deliberately engineered the empowerment of the unstoppable universe-murdering monster Jack Noir because she wants to be the one who kills him. She created the epic final boss battle for her to epically defeat, so she could be the hero of the story.

And here's her ultimatum for John: figure out the Windy Thing to save himself--and thus become even cooler and stronger than her, the strongest of them all--and he'll be worth her time...or die trying.

And when John does accomplish the Windy Thing, here's what she says:

He's her new Tavros--but unlike "some loser," he's just as powerful and bold as she wanted him to be, so he wins her favor.

Vriska is trying to be responsible for as much as possible, so that her ultimate (planned) victory over the demon will be that much greater and everyone will accept her. This includes being responsible for Jack getting prototyped with Bec, Bec being created in the first place, and John going god-tier because she wants to make the ultimate hero and villain. She deliberately inserts herself into as many conflicts as possible on account of her self-aggrandizing nature and obsessive need to be the center of attention, even when she's actively harming herself and everyone else by doing so.

The Aspect of Light in Homestuck is heavily implied to be related to narrative relevance--Aranea tries to "heal" her Light by making herself the one who saves the day, while the Zahhaks (who possess the opposing aspect of Void) end up largely irrelevant to the grander story. As the Thief of Light, Vriska's role is to take away narrative importance for her own benefit--she "steals the spotlight," so to speak. This ties into The Web as "The Story Spinner": she is hellbent on being in charge of and the most important character in the story, setting in motion a great number of schemes and chain reactions (even ones that blow up in her face) just so she can be in control and be important. She absolutely has to make things about her to get recognition from other people and often behaves like she deserves attention no matter how she acts and performs actions to draw attention, even complaining when she feels like she's not being given top priority; as with the rest of said flaws, it does absolutely nothing for her but actually push people away from her, making her lonelier, unhappier, and more unstable, and therefore more vulnerable to bad influences.

She has to spin the story to her advantage so she can be as strong and powerful and invincible as Mindfang, because it's the only way she knows how to cope with the helpless terror of her childhood living in fear of a spider's bottomless hunger and endless cruelty. In fact, when her pre-retcon self (who died and ended up doing a lot of self-reflection and development) sees that Aranea is doing the same kind of bullshit by trying to make herself the hero (at the risk of dooming the entire timeline), she admits that both she and Aranea have the same issues with obsessive egomania and trying to do the "right thing" for all the wrong reasons. She wants to be a puppetmaster and ends up trapped in a web of her own making. While pre-retcon Vriska eventually lets go of her need for power and control and ends up much happier for it, post-retcon Vriska never gets the same character development and takes away exactly the wrong lesson--that her fussing and bugging and meddling and pulling everyone's strings is actually the best outcome, and she was right all along to see herself as the main character. She gets to be the hero by taking out Lord English, but at the cost of apparently being sucked into the black hole with him (we're ignoring the Epilogues here). By taking forceful command of everyone around her with her usual bossiness and mind control, she traps herself in the shadow of Aranea/Mindfang and the narrative web she's desperate to be at the center of, and thus is left behind while everyone else escapes the story and moves on with their lives.

She's soooo pathetic and soooooo awful. Vote for her right now.

.

[its-your-mind]

It also says a lot that Clara greeted her daughter far more warmly compared to her husband. As I said, they do still love each other, and it was better whenever he was away.

It's why Beau felt certain that her mother will keep her brother safe.

It also did lead to something that Nott also desperately needed to hear, that she's not a terrible mother and that she can still have her son in her life.

TJ and Luc being good friends is good.

Veth and Clara eventually meeting and bonding over their shared misery thanks to Isharnai would also be good.

Clara as a character is so fascinating to me - Beau tends to refer to her mother alongside the grape fields as items given to Thoreau by Isharnai. Thoreau kinda sorta implies that he and Clara had a desire to be together before he got rich, but Clara doesn’t mention it at all. Part of that could be her not wanting to insert herself into the conversation, but I wonder just how passive a role Clara has in her own life.

Did she love Thoreau before he was wealthy, or did she just agree to marry him when he showed up to court her after he set up his winery? Is this the kind of life she wanted? What kind of life did she have before? What kind of life would she have now, had Thoreau not gone to Isharnai? Who would she be?

Beau sees her mother as a prize, as just another “gift” Thoreau got in his deal. She is intentionally active; she tries so hard to be the opposite of her mom. Where Clara is quiet, Beau is loud. Where Clara is polite, Beau is abrasive. Where Clara tries to blend into the background, Beau takes initiative and makes things happen.

I wonder what they have in common, which of Clara’s mannerisms you’d find subconsciously reflected in Beau’s. Do they have the same laugh? Does Clara squint her eyes when she’s trying to understand something? Does Beau hold herself in a way she learned from her mom?

Beau’s favorite color is green, just like TJ’s, exactly the shade of Clara’s dress.

Family is hard. It sucks that you really don’t get a say in the people who raise you, that you can never really separate yourself from them fully. It sucks that Thoreau never appreciated his daughter for the amazing person that she is.

But family can be a gift, too. Not just parents giving to their children, but kids coming home different, bringing back lessons that were never taught at home, because no one there had ever learned them. Maybe Thoreau sending Beau away might be the best thing he could have done for Clara, just like it was for Beau. Maybe Clara has the chance to see the person her daughter has become, and start learning to emulate Beau’s strength, her courage, her loyalty, her confidence. Maybe, after all these years, she’ll finally be able to see a path out of Thoreau’s plans, and into her own.

[dark9896]

Reinherz Family Cannon [Head Cannon]

This fun little head cannon was requested by anonymous 📜

Little edit for proper cannon: the fifteen day trip is for Libra business. But Klaus would still likely visit around such a tigh clump of holidays.

.

So to start off with Klaus's grandparents. His grandmother on his father's side was the head of the household.

Her husband took her last name when they married, of course.

The Starphase family has been considered close friends for generations, but with Klaus's grandparents; visits became much more frequent.

This lead to Steven and Klaus's friendship, more so than Klaus's siblings because Steven would seek the peace of the garden outside.

Which was where Klaus and his grandmother would spend a good chunk of the late morning and early afternoon.

Klaus's father is the oldest of three siblings and took over the estate when he got married.

This was practically tradition, to allow the generation prior to enjoy their golden years.

Speaking of Papa Reinherz, he is the epitome of the strong, silent type. He taught his children respect, discipline, and courtesy to a T.

Mama Reinherz on he other hand was the social butterfly parent, teaching the softer sides of respect and how to properly socialize.

The fangs are indeed a family trait, as is the height and physique that Klaus is oh so conscious of.

His father is easily 7' 3' (2.2 m) and his fangs grew in evenly, so they don't show as readily. Though his mother is barely 5' (1.5 m).

His siblings are all roughly Klaus's height, none of them are more than five inches taller than Klaus.

The eldest of Klaus's brothers also happens to be the oldest sibling and has already taken over the family estate. He also has three young daughters of his own. His fangs also grew in evenly.

Klaus's elder sister is the second oldest child, she is currently married with two children (one boy, one girl) and expecting a third. Her fangs grew in an underbite.

The last of Klaus's elder siblings, the brother closest in age to Klaus, isn't married yet, but he is about to get married. His fangs grew in an overbite.

Klaus does have two younger siblings. In order, a younger sister and a younger brother.

His younger sister's fangs grew in an over bite. And she's roughly Zapp's age (somewhere between 23-25)

His younger brother is somewhere around Leo's and Chain's age (19-22) and is the only other sibling to have his fangs grow in evenly.

All of his family feels it very safe to pop in for a visit whenever, and will make an attempt to call Klaus when they do so.

When his eldest brother comes for a visit, unless its a Reinherz family trip, then their father looks after the estate for him.

Klaus attempts to take an annual personal trip, usually the two weeks envolping Christmas, his birthday, and New Year's so he can celebrate those three days with his family.

Steven's grandparents (who live in Spain, its kinda a mess that head cannon) were very close to Klaus's grandparents and requested that Steven be gifted a cat the day of his wedding.

Klaus's parents plan to fulfill this request in their place.

Despite the changing of the Head of the Family, Head Maid Bates is still assigned to keep up with Mama Reinherz. She usually tends to the matriarch of the house hold, but...

Klaus's eldest brother feels far too weird about changing that assignment, especially since his wife isn't that keen on having someone follow her around like that.

Because none of Klaus's siblings live in Hellsalem's Lot, nor did they get married after Dr. Estevez discovered a safe way to emulate a womb, they all are straight because of how much emphasis was put on raising a family.

However, none of it has ever been required they all just have very good memories of being part of a family and want to raise their own. Neither Mama or Papa Reinherz would have kicked up a fuss if any of their children decided not to have a family or decided to marry someone they truly loved regardless their partner's gender.

Both of Klaus's grandparents died shortly after each other. His grandfather died of a cancerous legion and his grandmother died of heartbreak.

Since they died in the same week, Klaus often makes a wreath of their favorite flowers woven together and hangs in on his bedroom door in memory of them.

Klaus is just barely the shortest in his family, though it could be argued that his younger sister is shorter.

She wears heels to not be the shorter sibling though, much to their brother's despair, since she wears heels tall enough to slightly dwarf the youngest brother.

Mama Reinherz has light red hair, about three shades lighter than Klaus. Papa Reinherz has very deep reddish brown hair that barely looks red at all.

All Klaus's siblings have roughly the same shade of hair.

[stinkrascal]

hi jaiden! I dont know if youve answered this already but what is brie's relationship with her mom like? Mother-daughter relationships are always so interesting to me because they seem to be the most complex so :>

hi anon!!! oh man im so glad you asked this question aha. there's some spoilers in this since A LOT of this stuff will be talked about in the brie/vlad backstory whenever i get around to posting it, but i'll discuss it here anyways since i think it's really interesting!!

breanna's relationship with her mother was extremely tumultuous. breanna's mother was only 16 years old when she had breanna, so she had to give up her childhood to raise her, and because breanna's mother comes from a staunchly religious, conservative background in poverty-stricken southern louisiana, she had no help from her parents, who essentially disowned her. because of that, her mother held a lot of resentment towards breanna, but she did try to be a good mother. i think brie's mom genuinely thought she was doing her best, but she struggled to relate to and help breanna, who was admittedly a very troubled child. breanna struggled in school, struggled with her weight, and struggled in social settings (this was due to having undiagnosed autism, something which her mother refused to have treated as she didn't want to accept her child having autism due to its many cruel misconceptions), and often this greatly upset brie's mother, as she felt breanna's misbehaviors reflected badly on her. she couldn't understand that breanna's academic, physical, and social difficulties weren't because of laziness, but because of severe untreated mental illness, and breanna's mother often lashed out because of it.

all this was compounded by the fact that breanna's little sister, madeline, was by all accounts a gifted child; madeline was less temperamental than breanna, going along with whatever her mother said while breanna was often more combative and dismissive. madeline was academically gifted, conventionally attractive (re: thin) and thrived in social settings, as she mimicked those around her to appear as though she fit in, unlike breanna, who often struggled to understand and emulate the people in her life, instead focusing on her own interests and hobbies. in every sense, madeline was the "golden child" and breanna's mother often compared the two, in her attempts to get breanna to behave, not understanding that comparing the two would only make breanna resent both her mother and her little sister. in breanna's mother's mind, she genuinely wanted breanna to see madeline as inspiration, a role model, a guideline for how breanna could live a happier life, but to breanna, it just felt as though she always loved madeline more than she loved her.

their relationship became especially strained when, on breanna's 16th birthday, she attacked madeline, 13 at the time, which resulted in permanent damage to madeline's left eye. breanna's mother was absolutely distraught at the fact that breanna would cause such harm to her own sister, and she basically demanded breanna leave their house, which she did. breanna left to live with a much older man, someone she met online, and she ceased contact with her family, only talking through madeline for years. madeline actually makes the comment at one point that breanna's mom was "relieved" over the fact that breanna had a boyfriend, as she showed no interest in dating prior. nevermind the fact that he was a man 12 years her senior - the mere fact she was socially acceptable enough to have a partner was enough for her mother.

the man eventually broke up with breanna when she was 19, and she reunited with her family after not speaking to them for three years. breanna's mother was resentful for breanna having abandoned her family, though in breanna's mind she felt as though she did them a favor - they never wanted her around anyways. occasionally breanna's mother would give her sly compliments, mainly about her weight loss (which was on account of living with her older boyfriend, who had gotten her addicted to marijuana, which caused her drastic weight loss), but their relationship never healed. from this point forward, they constantly fought, as breanna's mother felt breanna was aimless, unambitious, and content with mooching off her parents for the rest of her life, while breanna felt her mother was overbearing, coldhearted and uninterested in her feelings and her struggles. this eventually culminated into breanna's decision to run away for good, where, by pure chance, she fell unconscious in the woods, where the vatore twins discovered her...

for a long time, breanna goes through this child-hating phase where she absolutely detests the idea of having children, because of her fear of becoming like her mother, someone who, in her eyes, hated her own daughter. the truth was far from this, as whenever breanna interacted with children, she always enjoyed herself, but her fear was so deeply-rooted, she felt she had to convince herself she despised children to soothe those fears. a lot of her willfully incompetent personality stems from her relationship with her mother as well, as she always felt growing up that she wasn't good enough to meet her mother's expectations, so why bother at all? even her insecurities about being autistic stem from her mother's insistence that breanna doesn't have any mental health problems, she's just not trying hard enough to live a normal life, which stopped her from wanting to receive a diagnosis for a long, long time. and tbh i hc that she was never officially diagnosed. it was only when the triplets were diagnosed with autism at a young age, that she realized she was likely also autistic. by that point it became undeniable, since, you know, they have to get it from somewhere, and she knows they didn't get it from vlad. she just related too much to the symptoms to ignore it any longer.

she is a lot better about handling her insecurities surrounding her autism, and her fear of motherhood is all but completely vanished!! so she has healed in a lot of regards. but she still struggles a lot with feeling useless, with feeling like she isn't good enough to accomplish the things she wants, therefore she needs others to do those things for her.

[luxmaeastra]

Ruhn was going to die here. The Changelings were going to kill him and destory him. Velaris would fall and then where would he be? He just wanted to go home. He hadn't wanted to be dragged into someone else's -

The Changeling went down, their body cut in a diagonal. Lorin whirled slicing another's head off. She grinned grimly at her son. 

"I was a Princess of this court Ruhn. I would have been a queen in Vallhan. I was taught to fight."

She lowered her blade at the rainbow shown over Velaris. Reinforcements had come. She moved, the shock and despair falling off her. She hated being here, hated being trapped into expectations that she had never asked for. A life and personality she'd never been to emulate. Everyone wanted her to Dream as long it was a dream that benefited them. 

"I know Rhysand wishes to speak to you. My father is very...sly with his words and charm. Do not trust it. He'd sooner cripple your power than take you in. This isn't our home Ruhn."

"And the one where Einar is?"

Lorin turned to see her mother walking toward them. She glowed armor made of silver and moonstone. Her blue eyes cold as she took in her daughter. Lorin raised her chin, she would not be the same girl who never met her mother's eye. That one had died the moment she had seen what true war was. 

"Einar has been good to me mother. So yes, home is where Einar is. I doubt he is doing well under Amarantha and Narcissus's thumb."

Tisphone smile didn't hold any warmth only contempt. She had never wanted her daughter to be so weak. Hadn't she learned yet the only person you worried about was yourself?

She'd mourn Rhysand, would probably step down if it came to that. But she didn't spend her time worrying for him. He would take care of himself. If he couldn't what use was he? What good was a mate who couldn't be worthy of you?

She strode to the railing looking over the Sildar.

"Amarantha is dead. Your father stabbed her in the neck. It was all very dramatic and long coming...I am sure Narcissus is keeping him close Lorin. You are able to walk around Velaris."

She glanced to her daughter, her lips thinning. 

"A mercy I am beginning to think you do not appreciate."

She brushed past them to where Rhysand stood taking his hand. Lorin closed her eyes trying to regulate her emotions like Aunt Hypaxia had taught her. 

How could her mother not understand when she looked at her father like she did? How could she not want her to have the same type of love she did? After all the stories she'd heard of how her parents had fought tooth and nail for each other? Didn't they understand not all love looked and acted like theirs?

//For Ruhn and Rhys!!//

His body tensed, remaining closer to his own mother, as his grandmother swooped in. Like a fabled goddess, beautiful and powerful in her own right....Yet even gods were dangerous, especially when they were not on your side.

Ruhn took his mother's warning to heart, he would hold his tongue the best he could and maintain his composure. He didn't like the words that were said though, he didn't like how this female treated his mother. She was family though, her blood was in his own and he hated it.

Rhysand's glance turned away from the boy as Tisiphone returned to his side, his hand reached out as he took her hand and rose it to his lips. Their love was strong, but neither needed the other. They were capable to be alone, to stand on their own feet.

"Why are you here Lorin? I thought you would stay away from Court for as long as you could."

[phercynoya]

We’re Alone in This Together

Some spoilers for the play The Reconciliation Dinner.

The last national elections felt like it drove a divisive wedge between our intimate connections. Ties were severed. Walls were raised. Those happen as the ego tries to keep itself safe in a social environment where hostility is encouraged and monetized.

The one-act play “The Reconciliation Dinner” written by Floy Quintos revolves around these themes. The bond between two families slowly eroded as their political positions placed them in two separate sides. Dina (Stella Cañete-Mendoza) tries her best to reconnect with her best friend Susan (Frances Makil-Ignacio) and her husband Fred (Jojo Cayabyab) after a tense exchange over dinner left a sour taste in their mouths and the ensuing cold war of words and unexpressed frustrations drove them apart.

The scenario is all too familiar. Quintos pretty much covers how middle class families socialize during a period of tense political turmoil. Everyone tries to play nice to keep the peace and keep a semblance of social order.

Bert, (Randy Medel Villarama) Dina’s husband, captures the toxic masculinity enabled by the popular Rodrigo Duterte and emulated to some degree by Isko Moreno (he bears some resemblance to the latter). Akin to his strongman idols, he tends to escalate conversations and take things personally. It would be nice if more depth is given towards his reasons for voting BBM. He felt more like a caricature throughout the play. Dina is generally on the fence, just there to support her husband all the way, while acting as referee when tensions rise. Fred and Susan try to be polite (partly to continue currying favors from their wealthier friends and avoid conflict) but they do not simply back down from an argument when they hear something they don’t agree with. Each exchange always ends in a pissing contest where the goal is to feel comfort and vindication for their personal choice.

It is great to see that the underlying dependencies (besides their friendship) between Dina and Susan are made clear, making it difficult for them to simply call it quits. Susan’s business relies on keeping good relations with generous clients. Dina gets much needed emotional support from Susan that she can’t find from her husband and do not want to demand from her daughter, especially given her current struggle. They are also the godparents of each other’s child. My favorite interactions are between Dina and Susan, because the actors are fantastic at portraying old life-long friends.

The younger generation are clearly bolder and have more polarized views than their parents. Phi Palmos’ Norby owned the stage whenever he is given the spotlight. He fits the role of a youthful Kakampink quite well. Mica (Hariette Mozelle) suffers from the same fate as his father. Her character as a scheming and aggressive BBM supporter lacks nuance. This can be attributed more on the material, not the actor.

(As an aside, I personally find it distasteful whenever the queer character is playfully flirting with a married man in a work of fiction, usually for comedic and/or dramatic effect. This feels like an unintended reinforcing of dangerous stereotypes that do not really add much value to the play.)

And then there’s the wildcard Ely (Reb Atadero). He has the most hilarious lines and his chaotic ideology captures that shitposter account you follow who is neck-deep into the meme-ry of Reddit and Twitter that no one else in the room fully gets him.

I like the portrayal of social media banters and snide remarks between the first and last dinners, a quick battle of wits between people who want to express their support, and the satisfaction of feeling right about their choices. This sequence, along with each character’s monologue generally works well.

Quintos’ politics is clear throughout the play. I guess what I would have wanted is a perspective outside the middle class. I, as a middle class citizen with generally liberal views, feel like this is portraying a segment of the internet that I am already seeing online. The conversations are all too familiar, and sure this makes it easy to empathize and relate with the story and characters. But in the end, I am hearing stories that I have already heard over and over thanks to a sinisterly designed algorithm that seeks to make me happy in doomscrolling late at night.

I would also relate this concern to how BBM supporters are portrayed in this setting. There is constraint in depth if conversations are kept within a single class.

The play in itself, is an echo chamber. Or perhaps it is the point after all?

As the play winds down, I really felt bad for everyone, especially for Dina. She is stuck, like all of us. We have to deal with the emotional toll of an unforgiving system, and we are left to fend for ourselves. The short-term highs of personal victories, milestones, and won confrontations cannot mask the shittiness of our current state, and the best thing we can do is hold on to our closest forms of support.

In the end, she had to settle with what’s left.

[chiropter36]

Okay, a couple days late, but in honor of HDL’s birthday, have some random triplet headcanons (plus a few for the other kids just for the heck of it).

Huey:

Middle name is Humperdink, after Donald and Della’s paternal grandfather (I figure, since Donald went to Hortense’s side of the family for Dewey’s middle name, he’d want to give some tribute to Quackmore’s side as well). Huey has a full lecture ready to go if anyone finds out and starts teasing him – explaining about the importance of the tradition of keeping ancestral names alive, and how the name was a perfectly fine and respectable one in his great-grandfather’s day… but in situations where he has to give his full name, he’ll still usually just abbreviate it to Hubert H. Duck.

As an adult, when he has a child of his own, he struggles with parenthood at first, due in part to trying too hard to emulate Donald, wearing himself thin to the point of hysteria by taking on everything and prioritizing being constantly present for his child at the expense of his own emotional health and self-care. Donald eventually has to have a talk with him, gently reminding him that he’s not in the same position Donald was, that he has a huge support system of friends and family to lean on, and that he doesn’t need to make the same kind of sacrifices that Donald did when raising them.

Dewey:

Gains something of a “business” rival in Alastair Boorswan, who retains a grudge against Dewey for his part in the failure of the Darkwing Duck movie. He doesn’t go full-on Don Karnage or anything, but he’ll try to sabotage any of Dewey’s performances and internet video projects. It is entirely, almost pitifully, one-sided – every time Boorswan pops up like ah-HA now at last you’ll PAY for ruining my masterpiece!, Dewey barely remembers who he is.

Starts developing his first crush, a year or so after the finale, on Gosalyn. He does eventually work up the courage to ask her out, and they date briefly, but Gos never ends up developing any feelings for him beyond the platonic. Eventually, after seeking some advice from Launchpad (who was thrilled that his best friend and daughter had gotten together, but understands through much personal experience that some relationships just aren’t meant to be), the two have an amicable break-up, Dewey goes and has a good cry in private, and they’re a little awkward with each other for a bit, but the two of them both end up feeling like their friendship is stronger for the experience.

This is the beginning of a trend for Dewey, who follows in Launchpad’s example of retaining healthy, meaningful friendships with all of his exes. (Louie calls it unnatural.)

Louie:

In part due to his habit of stress-eating, combined with his dislike of physical exertion, Louie ends up putting on a little more weight than his brothers in their teen years. At first he’s very insecure about it – he’s already getting hit with the rest of the puberty troubles, and this just seems like one more thing to dislike about his body. As an adult, he remains a bit chubbier than his brothers, but he’s much more self-confident about it. He even uses it to his advantage, letting people underestimate him and assume he must be out-of-shape just because he doesn’t have a classically “fit” body. (He generally is less in shape than his brothers, but he does still enjoy his regular swims in the Money Bin, which requires a certain athleticism.)

Never has nor particularly wants kids. He’s perfectly content being the “fun uncle” of the family; he can just introduce his niblings to Ottoman Empire, tell them all the embarrassing stories about their parents, sneak them extra candy, then hand them back off to his siblings to deal with while he relaxes and enjoys the perks of not having to actually raise them.

Except, of course, much as he’ll joke about “buying their love” with candy and presents, he does love all his siblings’ kids to bits and pieces, and will reluctantly step up and be the adult when it matters. One time, he was the only authority figure available to be the disciplinarian during a fairly serious misbehavior incident... and it was in that moment, while recovering from the looks of betrayal as he scolded and doled out punishments, that it suddenly hits him: Oh, crap, this is what I put Mom through with the Timephoon incident, isn’t it? Ultimately, though, while the kids remain mad at him for a while, they do end up respecting him more in the aftermath, which makes him feel like he’s at least doing better at the uncle thing than Gladstone did.

Webby:

Once they’re back home and have had some time to sit down and process everything after “The Last Adventure!”, Scrooge and Webby have a long, candid talk about how they want to move forward with what they now know about their relationship. Among other things, Webby admits that, while it felt right to call him “Dad” at the Library, putting a title to this newly-discovered connection, since then she’s been finding it a little awkward when she’s tried calling him that in her head. He’s always been a father figure to her one way or another, but in her head for the past year or so he’s been “Uncle Scrooge,” and that’s what her brain defaults to now that things have settled down. Scrooge, in turn, admits that while he was deeply moved when she called him that and certainly loves her like a daughter, he finds it difficult to think of himself as a “dad” at his age.

So the two of them agree that, much like how Donald is “Uncle Donald” to the triplets but everyone knows what he really is to them, Scrooge can keep being “Uncle Scrooge” to her and it won’t diminish their relationship. Moving forward, they still occasionally use dad/daughter terminology, but generally save it for special occasions… aaaand occasionally when Webby’s in a particularly Louie-ish mood and wants to get something out of him.

More than once after the reveal, the boys jokingly call her “Aunt Webby.” (Even Huey, though he always can’t help but point out that they’re technically first cousins once removed.) Her response is, “No.”

Violet and Lena:

(This one’s actually kind of semi-canon – as in, it never happened on-screen but was shown in the “Meet the Sabrewings” mini-story that Frank Angones contributed to that one zine, plus mentioned in one of his tumblr responses.)

Violet’s chosen parental titles for Tyrian and Indigo are, respectively, “Father,” and “Father”. She doesn’t see why anyone should find that the least bit confusing. (“They are each my male-identifying parental figure; i.e., a ‘father.’ Referring to one of them by an alternate diminutive title seems rather arbitrary and redundant, to be frank.”) Despite this, Ty and Indy can always tell which one of them she’s referring to, even without any context, just by her subtle vocal inflections that no one else can pick up on.

It takes Lena a while before she feels comfortable referring to them with any sort of parental designations. Even after she’s officially adopted, for a long time she’ll call them by their names or just “you guys”. It’s a special moment the first time she calls them “Dads”, but once she finally gets to that point, she settles into it and calls each of them “Dad” more regularly (if she needs to distinguish, she’ll just use their names).

Boyd:

Though Gyro does keep the offer open, Boyd never feels any desire to transfer his consciousness to an “aged up” body, even as Huey and the others grow up around him. For the most part, he completely avoids all the angsty “immortal child who can’t ever grow up” tropes – he likes being a definitely real boy, fought hard to be acknowledged as such, and doesn’t feel like an adult body and programming is something he needs to be happy.

That said, he does eventually become something of an adult legally – he still gains life experience and becomes more self-sufficient now that he’s actually being given the opportunity to live for the first time – and at that point views his childlike body as simply equivalent to, say, being a little person, and his childlike mindset just one of the ways he’s still “wired differently” from his peers. (Huey’s continued friendship helps a lot in that regard – he never treats Boyd as anything other than a friend and equal, no matter the disparity between their apparent ages.) He eventually ends up working as a scoutmaster for the Junior Woodchucks, where he excels with the younger kids (while also earning several PhDs and becoming one of the most popular lecturers at Duckburg University).

[nocapesdahling]

As the World Falls Down - Chapter 3

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter Summary:  In which you have a plan to save yourself and Alena, but have no idea if it’s going to work. Either way, you have to try.

Rating: Mature (17+)

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Angst; Misunderstandings that lead to angst; Established canon character deaths; Did I mention angst?

A/N: We have reached the end of Part 1 and the Age of Ultron arc. I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far, and would love to hear your thoughts. 

Chapter 3: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 2.4k

You made sure Alena was strapped in tightly on your chest and that everything was in place. With time running out and Novi Grad continuing to rise, it was as good as it was going to get. You needed to move now. You had your prototype boots and gauntlets, which should allow you to fly. You hoped they would at least. Your main consolation was that they worked during testing, even if that had been in a controlled environment.

You had always admired Tony Stark, being something of a child prodigy yourself and starting college at a similar age to him. When you had first seen the Iron Man suit, your first thoughts had been of awe like any person who got a glimpse of Iron Man. Yet most people probably didn’t think what you had thought later, while considering the technology behind the suit and how to go about making your own.

Well, if he can do it then why can’t I? How hard could it be, really?

It turned out to be a bit more difficult than you’d thought, but you had developed something after much trial and error. However, you hadn’t tested anything in the open air yet. The previous test was only a short one to see if your prototypes would work and you had hovered a few feet over solid ground at most. That was why your plan only had a 65% success rate, but you had confidence in your technology and hope. In Sokovia, you couldn’t get far without hope.

You noticed the air getting thin as the city continued to rise, so you fitted Alena with an oxygen mask. You had a tank available in your apartment for squad emergencies, and were amazed how many times it had been used in the past. Your squad got into the oddest situations. There had been Andrei’s mission with the diplomat and the ice cream swimming pool and Mila’s with the yacht and the hammerhead sharks. All classified of course.

You digressed. There were more important things to consider right now, even as you wondered how your squad would take the loss of their handler when Helmut told them. You knew that it would hit them harder than they would ever admit. They emulated Helmut’s stoicism when in the field and today was still a mission, even if it was unlike any other. The destruction of one’s home was not something any of them had encountered before. If you couldn’t be there, then you hoped your gadgets would help to protect them today and in the future. You planned to be there.

You clipped the oxygen tank to your tactical gear and hoped that it wouldn’t unbalance you too much. You would need all the balance you could muster if this plan were to succeed.

Once you were as ready as you could be, it was time. The city had to fall at some point and you wanted to be in the air when it did as the height it had reached would cause a destructive impact radius. You brushed a kiss to Alena’s head, seeing her little feet kicking and knowing that she was awake.

“Not the best timing, little one. This might be a bit scary, Alena, so I wanted you to know that I love you. Already. So much. I think I loved you as soon as I saw you. Wish us luck, my little Alena Heike. We’re going to need it.”

With that and the realization that you had reached the edge of the city, you took a deep breath, taking one last glance back at the city that had been your home for most of your life. Then, you braced yourself, stepped off the edge, and flew. Well, you took a moment to stabilize yourself as the only other time you had done this was in a local park in the middle of the night and then you had grass to land on not open sky. But then, you flew.

You flew like the birds you had admired for their freedom and grace and like Iron Man. Tony Stark had nothing on you. You let out a joyful laugh, forgetting your circumstances for a moment. You forgot the swarm of robots on the other side of the city, the fact that your home was in the process of being destroyed, that you may never see Helmut again, and that you weren’t sure if you and your baby would get out of this alive. Nothing else mattered at that moment because you were flying.

Then you were shocked back to the present as to your disbelief the city began to freefall, plummeting quickly and devastatingly towards Earth before exploding mid air. You could see from where you were that it looked like Iron Man and Thor had blown it up somehow, but you couldn’t understand why the Avengers hadn’t been able to stop it from falling in the first place.

Why hadn’t they been able to save Sokovia? They had saved New York. It didn’t make sense. The world had painted them as infallible. These were Earth’s heroes? They did not look so “Mighty” now.

The debris began to land too hard and too fast. It looked like it would impact more of the surrounding area than you had anticipated.

You gasped in horror, the tears freezing on your cheeks. If a building was hit with debris of that size, then the result would be catastrophic. You worried immediately for your squad and Helmut, turning on your earpiece with frantic movements even as you unbalanced without one of your gauntlets.

You tried Helmut. You tried Ana, Branko, Claudia, Andrei, and the other members of your squad. No one answered.

The base wasn’t that far away, not when you calculated the radius of the debris. It would be difficult, but you could make it there. You had to make it there. You needed to know.

You flew above and around where the debris was falling and jerkily made your way towards the base, still not as smooth as you wished you were or as fast as you wanted to be. You arrived to the sight you hoped not to see.

The base had been hit by a large piece of debris from the city and was collapsing in on itself. You landed as smoothly as you could a distance away and caught yourself on a tree, falling to your knees. No one could have survived that.

Helmut was gone. Helmut Zemo was dead.

Your chest hurt and your vision was blurry as your mind whirled.

You had survived, while Helmut had died. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. You would never see him again.

How did this happen?!, was your last thought before slumping backwards into a faint.

In your horror at the base’s collapse, you had forgotten the existence of its reinforced underground bunker where technology did not work and where your entire squad including their leader, Colonel Helmut Zemo, waited for the dust of Novi Grad to settle. Very much alive and in quiet mourning for their lost Q. They would exit through the tunnels a few hours later, coming out miles away from where you collapsed.

In fact, you wouldn’t recall the bunker’s existence until a little over a year later and by then it would be too late.

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

You awoke in the hospital. It took you a moment to realize what had happened and where you were. With that, came the realization in your mind that you would never see Helmut or hear his deep voice calling you his Q ever again. Despite the gaping hole in your chest and your desire to let yourself be numb, you needed to find Alena. You gasped and sat up too quickly before falling backwards out of dizziness.

You breathed in and out to calm yourself the way you often had as you assisted your squad in the completion of missions, and clicked the button to raise the bed as you looked around the room. You were in a gown and had no idea what had happened to your gauntlets and boots, but hoped they had been destroyed in the landing.

You heard Helmut’s voice in your head as you pinpointed the potential exits and any possible weapons.

“The first step, my Q, is to always survey your surroundings. Get your bearings and be prepared for anything. Be prepared to fight, but also to run if necessary. There is no shame in running. Running can save your life and I, my darling Q, would much rather see you alive .”

You smiled bitterly before letting it fade. You were not in any shape to run at the moment, and Helmut was no longer there to advise you. Your memories of him would have to suffice.

As you surveyed the room, you glimpsed your pack in the corner of the room and what looked like your highly damaged prototypes alongside it. There next to your bed was a crib and laying inside was Alena, who looked clean, like she had been changed, and who was sleeping soundly.

You let a small and real smile touch your lips. She was safe. You were safe. Both of you were alive. Helmut was not.

No, you couldn’t let yourself think of it. Not now. Maybe, not ever.

You pressed the call button for the nurse, hoping this was a real hospital and not some elaborate plot. It looked real, but one could never be sure.

“Finally awake, are you? Good, I’m glad to see it. I was beginning to worry about what might happen to your daughter.” The nurse said in rapid fire Sokovian as she bustled into the room.

“Yes, thank you. How long have we been here and where are we?” You had to clear your throat multiple times and even then your voice came out as a rasp.

The nurse poured some water into a cup, drank it, and then offered you some as well. “You probably do not remember, but you were rescued three days ago. You have been awake sporadically, and even then you were groggy. That is why you do not remember. For your second question, you are in a hospital in the Czech Republic. We are taking care of multiple Sokovian refugees.”

“But you are speaking Sokovian?”

The nurse frowned and leaned closer. She looked like she wanted to pat your hand or hold it. You were glad she did not. “Sokovia is gone. This time for good. There were not many survivors. My mother was Sokovian. I thought a familiar language might be of comfort to you. It has been to the other survivors we’re treating.”

You attempted to read her face and her eyes like Helmut had taught you. She drank the water before giving you some, which was a point in her favor.  She also did not look like a plant and you let yourself relax a bit, but kept your guard up in case you were wrong. You knew that Novi Grad had been destroyed and the devastation the debris must have caused, but it was hard to believe that your country was gone. It had been failing for years, but it was still yours. Yours, Heike’s, Carl’s, Alena’s, and Helmut’s. Now, it would only exist in the memory of its survivors.

You pushed the thought of Helmut aside for the moment, but at the thought of Heike and Carl you knew what question needed to be asked. “Have they released a list of survivors?”

“Not yet, but I do not want you to get your hopes up.”

You hated to think that the nurse was right, that Heike and Carl were also gone. They had been miles from the city however, so you had to hold on to hope for their sake. You could not consider never seeing Heike’s hair in the sunlight or Carl’s smiling face again. They were part of your family. You needed to find out what happened to them. “Please let me know as soon as they release the list.”

“I will, dear. I will.” The nurse gave you a pained smile that looked more like a grimace. “Now, we got your name and identification from your pack. I was in charge of your admission papers, and did not include any reference to your military rank to be safe. Sokovia is gone, so I did not want it to make you a target. What you were wearing alone looked like it would draw some attention.”

You nodded and thought briefly, knowing that had only happened because the nurse had ties to Sokovia. She was showing honest care and concern in the best way she could, and you appreciated it. You had been correct in her not being a plant then. You pictured Helmut’s smile when you told him that you were putting his training to good use, before remembering that he was…

You couldn’t bring yourself to think the word. You had to keep it together. You couldn’t falter now. Not when Alena was counting on you.

You realized the nurse was still waiting for some kind of answer. “Thank you. A civilian life might be just what I need.”

The nurse smiled back, “Yet, we have no information on this little one. I have a birth certificate here to fill out. You are one of her parents, yes?” Alena continued to sleep in her crib, oblivious to the world around her.

“Yes,” you swallowed and rapidly thought of how to answer the next question that you knew was coming.

“And her other parent?”

“He died in Sokovia,” you felt a tear roll down your cheek. You wondered if you were prepared to continue. Saying it out loud made it real.

“I’m sorry to hear that, dear.” The nurse did pat your hand this time in commiseration before withdrawing when you tensed up. “Would you still like to put his name on the certificate?”

You steadied your breathing and hoped that when (you couldn’t bring yourself to think if) you found Heike, wherever she may be, that she would understand. You knew that you could not regret this decision. It felt too right for that.

“Yes,” you responded haltingly. The words seemed to catch in your throat. “His name is… Helmut Zemo and our baby’s name is Alena Heike Zemo.”

End of Part 1 - To Be Continued in Part 2: Burn it to the Ground…

A/N:  I know this chapter was angsty, but I hope you enjoyed part 1 of this fic. Part 2 will not have as regular updates because Part 1 was pre-written, but I’m working on it. Thank you all for reading!

[legends-live-in-memories]

Downtown Detour

ayo its ya boi back with more timari and ignoring my wips cuz im plagued with timari brainrot

written in the same au as: 

Rooftop Rendezvous and 

Alleyway Altercation (NSFW)

AO3 link to the series

Timari 2.2K words, no warnings other than references to intimate relations

Summary:

“Red Robin makes a breakthrough in his investigation of the new Gotham Rogue and goes to confront her about it.”

without further ado

Tim could not believe this. The new Rogue, Karma—Marinette Dupain-Cheng— had been spotted a total of three times since their last encounter by either his brothers or the cops and none have been able to subdue her for more than fleeting seconds. She was caught breaking into a politician’s house when the man was away on another one of his exotic hunting trips; another artefact was stolen from the museum after that, one they were unable to retrieve; and finally she was last seen escaping from Robin by the mayor’s office, only no one know what was taken from there. All three times she was spotted and nothing to show for it other than bruised egos and missing items. 

During his little investigation into her supposed civilian name, he came across a series of interesting police reports from Paris, France of all places. A penchant for grand theft auto since her teenage years as well as a series of vandalism and reports of stolen student records from her high school at the time. There was even a rescinded expulsion, a litany of suspensions and a plethora of unexcused absences. She was a cookie cutter criminal in the making. But for Tim, it didn’t make sense. While all the evidence points to a child delinquent grown into an adult criminal, something about the situation set Tim’s teeth on edge. There was something missing. Something she wanted Tim to find out, if her giving him her name was anything to go by. But what?

She had no local address on file and the last piece of legal information that had any traceable location was a one-way ticket to Shanghai from four years ago. Immediately after her high school graduation. All her social media was deleted around the same time. She had effectively gone off the grid up until her emergence as a part of Gotham less than stellar night life. But why?

A closer look at her time in Paris led him to discover an interesting trend but it wasn’t anything concrete. Starting about when Karma—Marinette— was thirteen, her unexcused absences lined up with some of their infamous akuma attacks. While at first it could be argued that many children had unexcused absences in the beginning, and she had less than perfect attendance even before then, her disappearances also coincided with attacks far from her school which was where she should have been at those times. Then there were reports filed by police who spoke with her parents about her sneaking out at night which also lined up with notable akuma attacks. Either she was an overzealous fan of the city’s temporary heroes, or she was constantly in the thick of the action and kept it a secret from people close to her, letting her reputation suffer for it.

‘Trust me, I know all about acting in the name of the greater good. The good-girl act got tiring after a few years,’ she had said. ‘Much more rewarding to give into your own self-interests,’ she continued. ‘Something you could try emulating.’

Her words echoed in his mind. He never thought much of them before, his mind preoccupied with other things her mouth was doing that night. It could also be chalked up to everyone being the hero of their own story and she had just coloured her own experiences. But just maybe… 

Before he could entertain that train of thinking, his phone alarm was alerting him of his scheduled patrol. Hopefully he could catch a hold of his current person of interest and get some more answers. And perhaps get a read on what her intentions are in this city. With him.

~~~~~~~~

The skyline was a welcoming sight as he flung himself from building to building. The wind beneath him carried him across the sky like an actual bird and the thrill of the freefall lit his nerves on fire. His route was quiet but his appearance should coax out a certain thief. Red Hood was investigating a weapons smuggling deal that was set to take place by the Gotham Harbour. Nightwing was back in Bludhaven with Signal, introducing him to nighttime patrol. Robin and Black Bat were tracking a drug deal that was rumoured to disrupt the balance of the Narrows. Spoiler was with Batman doing their regular routes and Batwoman was doing her own thing somewhere. Oracle, as always, was on standby on comms and monitoring everything. This was the perfect opportunity for Karma to strike so Red Robin just had to be patient. The night was young.

An hour into his sweep of the city and Oracle was patching him into a radio call about a break-in in some pawnshop back in the Fashion District. It wasn’t on his route tonight but Oracle figured that with their likely suspect, and his arrangement with her, he was their best shot at apprehending her. If only temporarily. 

He arrived at the pawnshop without fanfare and found the storefront window broken into. Further inspection led him face to face with the object of his affection. Karma was posed calmly behind the cashier counter rifling through an assortment of jewelry that was left on display in the glass cases. It was only the faint twitch in her eyebrow that indicated her awareness of his presence. Other than that he went completely ignored. That won’t do. Not tonight. He approached her slowly and stopped on the other side of the counter, leaning into her space. He could faintly smell her rose-scented perfume. Her strawberry shampoo. Even the cherry lip gloss she wears under the mask. He’s tasted it enough times to know how strong it was. For a vision clad in black she was rather fond of red flavours. 

“Can I help you, Tweety Bird?” her voice was soft, sprinkled with faux indifference, not wanting to disrupt the background noise of rings and necklaces clanking together. She hasn’t looked at him once.

“Breaking and entering and attempted theft are serious crimes, Karma.” He saw a faint twitch of amusement in her eyebrow but her posture was relaxed and non-assuming.

“That’s not why you’re here. That’s not why I’m here either.” Her eyes sweep up to him as she stops searching the jewelry. She’s staring intently at him as if he’s to understand the meaning behind the words she’s not saying. He does. They’ve played this back and forth before. Danced their little tango of push and pull. 

“You wanted to see me then? Thought this was the best way to get my attention, hmm?” He leaned in, pressing his weight more into the counter. She matched his advance and propped her face in the palm of her hand. Her finger tapped on her mask. He figured if the accessory wasn’t there she’d be biting that finger instead. 

“Well it worked. Didn’t it? You’re here after plenty of time to conduct a rather thorough investigation into who I am. Or was.” She took off the mask, finally, and he was right. Her lips were shining in the dim light of the night with the familiar hues of her lip gloss. He presses on to not let himself get distracted by the slight smile on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng. Paris, born and raised. Above average student in terms of grades but a disciplinary streak about a hundred miles wide.” At this her head tilts in amusement. Her faint nod encourages him to divulge all the aspects of his research. “Absences and tardies more often than any recorded presences. About twelve suspensions in the span of three years and a rescinded expulsion when you were about fourteen. A couple run-ins with the police in regards to charges of theft and property destruction.” Her face scrunched in an adorable pout at that as if it were a reminder of an embarrassing moment and not outlines of criminal offenses.  

“Definitely not my finer moments, I assure, but keep going. You’re doing so well,” she interrupted him. She had shifted so that she could jump over the counter and sit atop it, her legs crossed and her arms bearing her weight behind her. Red Robin was temporarily silenced by the arch in her back and the lean lines of her exposed neck. He rose to his full height; just barely reaching her shoulder, due to her new vantage point. 

“You disappeared after your high school graduation, my investigation says you ran off to Shanghai but I believe there’s more to it than that.” She had uncrossed her legs to accommodate him between them and drew him closer by his shoulders. Acting on instinct, his arms found purchase on her waist and he was brushing the pad of his gloved thumb across the exposed skin. It was uncharacteristically soft but neither heeded mind to it.

“You think there’s more to me than that?” She leans in, almost breathing the same air as him. “You’d be the first,” she continued while snaking a hand up his neck to scratch lightly at his scalp. The touch sent shivers down his spine and had his toes curling in anticipation.

“So tell me then,” he licked his lips and stared at her through the film of his mask. “What is Paris’s Lady Luck doing here causing mischief in Gotham?” The question was a gamble and could upset the rapport he had with Karma. He was the team’s only lead on her, for better or worse, and he didn’t want to ruin whatever it was between them.

It was probably the right thing to say though, because she hasn’t left him yet but instead was staring at him with something indescribable in her eyes. Excitement? Approval? Affection? Red Robin wasn’t sure what to make of the glimmer of emotion in her eyes other than to take it as a good sign.

“You got this far in your investigation, Tweety Bird,” she leaned in closer, just a hair’s width away. “Why ruin the chase and tell you everything now?” Her lips were brushing against his as she spoke and the cherry flavour was almost distracting. His tongue peaked out to swipe a stronger taste. The arms around her waist tightened and he pulled her to the edge of the counter, her legs wrapping around him on instinct.

“Surely you could reward me for figuring out this much, right?” His voice was pitched so low if she wasn’t already breathing in his words he would have worried that she didn’t hear him. “After all, it’s not everyday someone discovers the identity of the allusive Ladybug.”

“The bird wants a reward, does he?” She finally sealed his lips with hers, stealing any half-baked retort he might have had. This kiss was different from the multitude they’ve exchanged in their times together, carrying over the unanswered emotions from their last encounter and introducing new ones into the mix. The air felt still and cool on his face and the fingers in his hair tightened even further. 

They were like that for what felt like hours but was merely a few minutes; just calmly exchanging kisses, nothing straying beyond that silently defined line. They didn’t need anymore for tonight. Karma had taken to progress this further by trailing her lips to the sharp cut of his jaw. She alternated between small kisses and even smaller bites as she made her way up to his ear. Her breath was warm against the shell of his ear and he leaned into the faint contact. A lick and a bite later, her lips were curled up into a smirk as her hand in his hair held him in place. 

They stayed like that for moments lost to time. Neither making the next move, nerves buzzing with anticipation. He felt an itch for more that only she could scratch and she was denying him that satisfaction. Despite that he made no inclination to instigate more, letting the ball stay in her court. After more silent minutes he felt rather than heard her chuckle against his ear. She jumped off the counter, pressing every curve of her body against his. Even then, he unconsciously tried to pull her closer, pressing her against his front and the tempered glass of the counter. Before he could do as he pleased with his new leverage, she wiggled out of his grasp and moved towards the broken storefront window, mask in hand. 

“It was great to see you tonight,” she throws a glance over her shoulder, readjusting the mask over the lower half of her face. “And I’m glad my assumptions of you were right.”

“What assumptions? What do you mean?” The confusion was almost palpable beneath the traces of cherries. He moved to reach for her, to keep her here for a bit longer. To explain herself. To not leave him. She evaded his grasp and leapt out the broken window. From outside the building she turned to him and aimed what was clearly Red Robin’s grappling hook out to the nearest building.

Instead of answering him she chuckled and tilted her head in amusement at his growing distress. 

“See you around, Tim.” Her parting words were lost to the air as she shot off with the grapple into the night. Red Robin stood frozen, rooted in place at the use of his civilian name. How did she know? Who exactly did he decide to get entangled with? Among the cacophony of new questions one thing was for certain.

He was utterly fucked.

[littledewdrops2]

Okaaaaayyy

It really makes me sad when people read about a placement and just hole themselves in that box. Astrology is a reflection, when you think about how the way you are raised effects how you perceive things as an adult, it makes sense if you view your natal chart as a book of your life. I have a lot of trauma, and I'll be honest and say my kids have some inherited placements that I look at and panic at sometimes. You are not doomed to repeat the patterns though, a lot of the placements I see with my kids are karmic and they have generational trauma shown in their charts. For instance they have pluto/moon aspects like me and my mom and my sisters. However, their placement isn't as tight of an orb as us. I view this as improvement that could be built upon if they chose to have children too. My daughter has mercury in 12th, I make sure to listen to her EVERY TIME her soft spoken self talks. I stop other people and give her my full attention. My son has his sun in 8th, I make sure he has space to be alone and process, we talk a lot about healthy expression, and his father all the time. You can do these things for yourself too, make yourself a priority, commit to doing things better because you deserve that. I have a cancer mars and my drive has been something I struggle with and burning myself out while I try and care for others (also my moon in taurus in 12th), I love caring for others but self care is hard. I write, I ask for breaks and take time to process, I go to therapy, shoot I even have a boundary to shower every day. I do what I need to express my anger and sadness in a healthy manner.

Also I wish that more people, when they ask questions about their placements, would use that to examine their life a bit more. You know yourself and your life best. For example I'm a sag sun, in 7th, taurus moon in 12th, mercury conj pluto in 6th. The two people that effected me in the best way were my grandparents. My grandma was a Libra sun and a pisces moon. My grandpa was a Sag sun and a virgo moon. It's no coincidence that my planets fall there because growing up I wanted to emulate the people that treated me best. My grandpa always told me, "if it is meant to be, it is up to me", my scorpio mercury and it's conjunction to pluto in the 6th, is a direct reflection of how seriously I took what he said. My chart ruler is my mercury actually, I have held on to that advice and been determined to turn my life around. (Also my mom and dad have no pisces personal placements and no libra, no virgo)

My grandpa valued having a good time and having adventures. He wanted to provide for his family and be a pillar. Then I grew up wanting a partner who was loyal and fun and kind and makes me smile, one I could build with. I think that's pretty reflective of my venus in capricorn (leo degree), in 9th.

Your parents come with their own ideas, values and unique experiences. Their words to you become your inner voice. Always keep in mind that we didn't birth ourselves. We learned these things somewhere. A bit of reflection helps a lot, what did your parents value/did you get along and want to emulate that/do you have easy aspects or hard aspects/who else influenced you/in what ways/can you see the reflection in that? Before stressing out over someone's comment on your placements, R E F L E C T. My kids would hate me if my chart really determined how my life was going to go (because of all the stressful aspects) but hey here I am doing the work I need to do and my relationship with my children is extremely fulfilling and loving and I see the connection in the things I value and how I parent and my kids charts and what they may have taken from me.

Last long winded example lollll, I deeeeeply value being open minded and non-judgemental, education is important to me and activism is too. My son has a stellium in the 9th house with his moon there. As if his mom isn't a sag sun with venus in 9th lolol. My daughter has sun and venus in 11th. Both my kids are libra rising and my daughter is a libra moon in 1st. I already hear them talking about "doing the right thing", justice and helping people sooo much.

I'm wholly planning on teaching my kids that they have the power to transform their life. On one hand, I know sun in the 8th can be very hard and on the other I believe that that placement can be super beneficial if I can help him tap into the positive energy. My daughter has pluto in 4th. I can't do anything about what they've already experienced except to help teach them that they do have the power to break these cycles. (I don't remember who's blog but I read someone say that pluto in 4th can mean that your mom emphasized being able to transform your life, which would be spot on for us.)

You don't have trouble in love because you have chiron in the 7th. You have trouble because your examples of relationships might not have been the best or you struggle to put yourself above your partner because maybe you don't feel good about yourself etc. Chiron in 7th is reflective of the struggle, it's not the reason for the struggle.

Long af, just to say never give up on yourself and it will be okay. 💞💖✨ You certainly aren't doomed. Also envy is a sign that you have an unmet need so maybe if you are feeling envious over a placement, be nice to yourself and give yourself a little extra self love.

[abbynx]

Juliet and Ophelia (Trish Una X Reader)

Like I said I can't pass up an opportunity to simp for this girl.

So this is a continuation of 'How would the La Squadra family react to you having a crush on the former boss' daughter, Trish Una?'

So yes, this series will be called, "Juliet and Ophelia" A Trish Una X Reader with a dash of found family with La Squadra and the Bucci gang so stay tuned!

Genre: Romance, fluff, wholesome

School. Nothing else to say, the certain word can emit a certain reaction from every individual. Some recoil and wince from the sudden flashbacks rushing into them, embarrassment and shame from all of the stunts they pulled. Some react with a certain fondness within them, lips slightly tugged to the side as the sudden nostalgia just soaks them up. Some, indifference. It's just an establishment wherein an individual attended for a quarter of their life and held nothing against it. To you, it didn't really emit anything from you. As a person who has never attended school, you looked at in an indifferent manner. You've been homeschooled all your life, relying on the knowledge your tutor Melone or sometimes Ghiaccio teaching you. They're good mentors, always took the time to make you feel like they aren't dumping overwhelming amounts of data on you. Additionally, they were extremely mindful of your well-being and made sure to not over-work La Squadra's adopted child. You thought of school as something as that, a school. You have nothing against it at all, nor you feel any sorts of things to it but you can certainly empathize those young people who struggle against it, tiring themselves to no end and are unsatisfied until their unmeetable standards are met. So that's what sums it, you were indifferent towards it... Until you yourself have began to attend it and all you can associate it with would be utmost regret. You didn't know what came up to you when Risotto asked of you if you wanted to live normally, he clarified that again; would you like to start attending school, like any other normal teens your age? Admittedly, home schooling is the norm too, but do you really want assassins educating you all your life instead of spending times with people your age, just enjoying the wonders of life? Ohhh, the entirety of La Squadra does not want you to emulate the same misery they've live to get to this, dear no. Risotto was kind enough to give you time to think about it, his right hand man Prosciutto taking the time to also explain its benefits and negatives. They offered to enroll you to a boarding school, attain a certain normalcy in your life for once. Although it was a boarding school, you can always go home every weekend to see them again. They can try to play it smooth and casual, but you know that they'd be too clingy to let you go. And by that, you accepted for some reason and now you've come to regret it, and can never take it back. You remain unmoving from your desk for the remainder of lunch break, head tilted down and interacted at the most interesting specimen to you, that were the pair of polished black shoes Prosciutto bought you. They were ridiculously expensive for a pair of shoes, but they are durable and pretty to look at, I guess. Just the perks of having a fashionable guy around. It was a dumb sight in hindsight and in an outsider's point of view, but you liked the way it gave out a glimmer when directed in light. Not only that, it's not like you can do anything about your crippling isolation in school. Everyone seems to despise your guts in this damned institution for some reason. You really don't know what they problems were, nor were they willing to confront you about it and instead opted to whisper and laugh at you from behind as you tread pass them. It was so damn unfair that you were one of the most fierce assassins La Squadra Esecuzione has to offer and yet you were easily taken down by a bunch of high schoolers who talked behind your back. You loathed this place. You regretted accepting the offer to study in this god forsaken hell and just wanted to go home. Melone's home education was more than enough, heck his teachings were more advance than the school curriculum has to offer and yet Risotto has insisted for you to experience this period of life for some reason. You've grown up from them, raised by assassins and have experienced the weirdest shit as a Stand User and they still think you need to have a normal high school life? And for what? It's not like there's an underground

organisation ran by students at school where you were needed to play double agent but no-- they insisted you to study things you already knew and compete among students apparently. The lunch packed with food remained untouched in your bag, wherein you planned to just give it to the stray cats and dogs just as you wait for one of La Squadra to pick you up from this damned institution. It's not like you were starving yourself, you were just uninterested to eat at the moment and you really didn't want it to go to waste so why not give it to those who are more in need? You weren't really accustomed to eating alone, as there would always be a member of La Squadra eating with you. These past few weeks felt so full without them that now it's made imminent to you that without them— life can be so colourless, so monochrome, so damn boring. Your crippling sense of loneliness, in addition to your utter unaccustomed self in a new environment made life hell for you in here. It would only be a few, agonising hours until you would be picked up by one of the assassins. At least there you'd get some actual slumber that won't require you to wake up at five o'clock to practically rush towards the school shower rooms and bathe in ice cold water in the middle of dawn for another day in hell. The teacher's lectures remained audible to you, and yet you couldn't seem to properly understand what she was going on about. It was a mere noise, as your eyes would impatiently dart up to meet with the hands of ticking clock, idly zooming by, as your legs bounced at the anticipation of the bell ringing. It was only a matter of a few more hours and yet, you just can't wait to ditch this hellhole for two days. "L/N, are you paying attention?" You jerk your head up from your daydreams with a slight yelp. Your teacher stood indignant, hands on her hips as she raised a questioning brow at you. "Well?" She waits. "Yes, Madam." You nodded. "Then pray tell, what is the common misconception about Mary Shelley's Frankenstein?" She challenged, shifting her weight on one side and awaits for your answer. It was then you noticed all eyes were on you. You knew the answer very well, it was simple really and yet being the centre of attention certainly hindered you from answering as soon as you can. "See? This is why--" "The common misconception regarding the Gothic novel Frankenstein is that often they refer the monster as Frankenstein, when in reality it's the name of the creator of the creature, Doctor Victor Frankenstein." You once remembered Ghiaccio's outburst about that, his shrill voice just ranting on and on about referencing the name incorrectly in modern pop culture. For a moment the teacher looks at you from the tip of her nose, as if to say 'I'll get you next time', before returning to the lesson Well, that was a relief. You released a breathe you've been harbouring, before turning your head yet again to watch the ticking hands of the clock go by and finally have the day done. ~•~ Similarly to your situation, it has come to her attention that she deeply regretted transferring back to school after a year of her absence. It was as if nothing changed, she was the same ol' Trish no one paid attention to, nor cared about. She only existed amidst their faint breathes whispering amongst each other behind her back as she passes by; "Whoop, there is she is again. I don't get why she returned." "Maybe she was pregnant last year." "Omg, really?" And she despises it. She couldn't have a single shit about their thoughts about her, but if they ever dared to spread rumours she wouldn't hesitate to use her connection with the mafia. She tries not to abuse this power, but come on, who wouldn't? At least now, they knew they wouldn't dare to land a hand on her, she has her own Stand now and not only that, her new family wouldn't stand something such as this to happen to her. All she wanted to do was to leave to godforsaken hell hole for two days for the weekend but alas, her pickup person was taking way too long. As much as she wants to stand up,

march forward to her new home with Bruno and the others, she was strictly told to wait for one of them to pick her up. But alas, they were taking too long and the roof of the waiting shed wasn't ideal for a rainy day either, not with its leaky roof, that is. All she can do was to sit on the metallic bench, and dodge dripping water leaking from the roof of the waiting shed. Seated at arm's length away from her, was a classmate of hers. A memory implanted itself on her brain after that one lecture in class, impressed at their quick wit to respond to the teacher's question, even if they paid little to no attention to the lesson apparently. And not to mention, their nonchalance response after proving the teacher correct was admirable. If only she can do something similar of that, she knew she'd be more proud of herself. The pinkette looks up in anticipation at the sound of a vehicle pulling over in front of a waiting shed, but frowned once she sees it wasn't the usual van Bruno rents. It was a black van, with pure black tinted windows and honestly, she'd think it was one of those vans that you'd be afraid of when you see it approaching. The student beside her let out a relieved sigh, and practically skipped off before boarding the van. Trish couldn't help but to sigh out as well, as she was now left alone to wait under the leaky roof. Trish shivered from the cold, before she decided to gather her knees in front of her chest to provide herself warmth from the rain. If only she brought with her the pink umbrella Giorno gifted to her, but alas, she forgot and left it back in the villa they currently reside in. She wanted to disobey them, and just walk home but she had no umbrella and doesn't really want to spend the weekend with her nose clogged and throat sealed with pain, as much as she wants to stay and rest within the villa with her new found family. She wanted to go home, she hated the hell hole and regretted her decision going back to it. As she wallows from her regrettable decision, the van door opens and the students steps out of it. Trish was confused for a moment, but didn't reacted to it, as her gaze remains directed down. For all she knew they don't left something behind, but apparently she was wrong. "Hey, it's pretty cold and you might catch a fever. You can borrow my jacket, here," Trish looked up, shocked to see you holding a black jacket and a light blue umbrella. She was shocked to say the least, but graciously accepts it. "The umbrella is a bit broken, sorry about that—" "N-no, it's enough... T-Thank you..." "You're welcome," they were quick to interact with, before they run towards the van once again and drove off. Trish watches the black van disappear into a turn, before she looks back at the jacket, subconsciously smiling fondly at it. She shrugs the jacket on, as it was slightly loose around her frame, before opening the umbrella above her head. After glancing at the direction from whence your van drove off, the smile on her face never wavered despite her impatience for her pick up person to arrive. ~•~ "So how was school, Y/N?" Risotto asks after a cheery round of laughter at the dinner table. You halted for a moment upon hearing the dreaded s-word being spoken. Thankfully, no one took notice of your reluctant pause and cleared your throat. You went on as normal, as you poke with your food in front of you. "It's good." You hoped that it wouldn't come up but alas, it was inevitable they'd ask that like any other adult talking to a young adolescent.  "Anyone got your attention~?" Illuso teases with his usual lopsided grin, with a mock crone. "Not really." You deadpanned, as you mentally rolled at the idea of liking someone in that school when everyone's been mean to you. "Your asking the wrong question, did you get someone's attention, though?" Melone chimes in. Once again, you mentally scoff at the idea of someone liking you. "Nuh uh." Oh if only they knew. Well now that you think about it, it was better for them not to know. They're highly capable people with strings to

pull and honestly, your classmates hasn't done anything physical to you yet. "Enough about the lovey dovey crap, what's important is that they're learning crap in school like they're supposed to be!" Ghiaccio retorts towards the two. "We're just glad you're enjoying yourself at school." Pesci adds with a warm smile. Another reason you can't tell them about your hatred for school. They were happy for you having that normalcy in your life, something they've never experienced pleasantly. As much as yours wasn't that ideal of a usual high school teen drama in one of those novels, but at least it wasn't as worst as their experience. And honestly, you would do just about anything to see them smile. "OHHH SHIT, Y/N'S SCHEDULED TO WASH THE DISHES!" Formaggio shouts from the kitchen in joy, prompting you to jerk up your seat in shock. The man has the tendancy to trick you into washing dishes sometimes and now that you've grown and realised how naïve you were, you grew more wary of his tricks. "SHUT THE HELL UP, NO WAY—" "YES WAY!" Formaggio returns from the kitchen, holding up the chart of dish washing schedule, before sticking his tongue out at you. "SUCKER!" Truly, you've missed the rampant chaos within your family, a stark contrast against the repetitive schedule in school. It was sheer chaos there too, not gonna lie, but this is a different type. This was the type wherein you felt at home, just smiling as the villa becomes frosted with a thin layer of ice unlike the one in school. You wanted to stay with them, but of course, their main priority was for you to have some sort of normalcy in your life and honestly, if that's what makes them happy you'd be happy to oblige. You are certainly doing great at school, and they're proud of it, it shows... If only Gelato and Sorbet were to see you as well. They may be gone, but you can just imagine them smiling and encouraging you. ~•~ Of course happy days would pass swiftly than its duller counterpart. Happy days were over once Monday hits and you were once again strapped to your seat for the next eight hours, another three hours by the library to get the Mount Everest high school work due to tomorrow, before curling up against the corner of your bed staring off into the abyss until slumber has taken a liking to you and claim you within its embrace and then somehow, someway, you would be then pulled from your sweet escape by a shrill bell from your bedside table, before you would inevitably glare at the blaring alarm clock, slam your hand against it before attempting to regain about five more minutes of sleep— only then to remember how things function in this seventh circle of hell as it was enough to convince you to get up and march towards your dresser with your stuff and head to the shower room. Needless to say, you've got the school schedule memorised by now. Even the usual discord occurring from time to time began to bore you. Nothing much really happened in school, you were just slowly deteriorating from boredom and by home sickness... Once gain, just goes to show how much you missed your chaotic little assassin family. You set yourself by your desk with a sigh, just wanting to get through this place without wanting to wreak havoc within the school premises that will prompt a bad mark on your pristine records. Not that you cared, it's just that Prosciutto will surely bitch about once he catches a glimpse of it and make an hour-long lecture about it. You let out an exhausted sigh for the umpteenth time, slumping against your desk with your eyes closed when suddenly a figure stands in front of your table. You immediately straightened your back and tried your best to look alive, before glancing up at her. "Oh hey, what's up?" You instinctively asked to swerve yourself away from the awkward silence, smiling up to the pinkette. "Hi, thank you for lending me you cost and umbrella. If it weren't for them I would've caught a cold back there." She hands you your jacket and umbrella back, in which you graciously accepted. "You're welcome, Miss Una— I-um—" you

stammered, your hands brushing against hers once you've reached to collect your neatly folded, pressed and newly washed jacket, along with your light blue umbrella. It was the heat of the moment when you gave her those following items and felt sorry for the girl, concerned about the dripping rain and the cold, humid air. "It's no problem." "Please no need for formalities, we're the same age. Just call me Trish." She insists. "There's the cafe in front of campus. I'll see you there after classes, my treat. It's the least I can do to show you my gratitude." "Uhhh, of course." For a moment it didn't process that the café she was referring to was an expensive one. The posh, fancy, the Prosciutto's to-go-to type of thing that charges an arm and a leg just to buy a shot of espresso, and they'd charge you your pair of kidneys if you asked for sugar and cream. Money wasn't a problem now that the boss was actually considerate, but why in all nine circle's of hell did you not insist her not to treat you? Well now's too late, as class has started and she's trudged back to her desk. Aside from the expensive coffee shop... Wow, you never thought that your encounter with her would expand to this type of interaction. At the back of your mind screamed wary, but something stronger in you just found this as a perfect opportunity for a friendship to bloom. She seems like a nice girl and quite frankly, she'd be lovely to spend time with. Like the weeks before spending your time in school, you gaze up to the clock as always, excited for something new other than weekends to go back to the La Squadra villa. This time, you were excitedly anticipating the time after class to meet with the lovely pinkette. Something good will happen, I just feel it!

[feelyourhearttakingroot]

The Reader's Guide to Avoiding Redfly (and how to have a good time doing it)

“How’re you doing, kid?” Tom murmured in your ear. Your skin hadn’t started crawling yet, but it definitely would soon.

“Redfly, leave the girl alone.” 

A third voice - the voice of God himself, if it meant that Tom would let you go. 

Summary: Your friend Dina is dating Benny Miller, and drags you along to one of his fights before a night at a bar. His friends meet you there - Tom ‘Redfly’ Davis, who is too busy trying it on with you to think about his wife; Santiago ‘Pope’ Garcia, who is a god made flesh; and Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales, who agrees to help keep you out of Redfly’s clutches. But Frankie is not without his own charm...

Relationships: Frankie Morales x reader, side Santiago Garcia x Original Female Character, side Benny Miller x Original Female Character

Rating: First chapter is Mature, but it will be getting Explicit after that... 

Author’s note: I saw Triple Frontier last week for the first time and it has occupied my every waking thought since then. This is my first ‘x reader’ fic, so feedback is appreciated. Benny is my darling boy and I want to write him a loving af relationship even if it’s in the bg of this fic. I also don’t mean to step on toes but Redfly is the worst man and deserved to die a lot earlier than he did in the film. I am also obviously obsessed with Frankie Morales. Sorry if the formatting is fucked, this is the first fic I’ve posted directly to Tumblr in many’a.

Warnings: 18+ for frequent language, she/her pronouns, future smut but this chapter is just teasing.

Read on AO3.

Chapter One

The Fight

“The fight ends at 9pm, so we’ll be good to get to the bar by 9.30,” Dina said, leaning to within a hair's breadth of the bathroom mirror. Your arms twitched, hands opening and closing as you watched the safety pin come even closer to her eyeball.

“Dina, do you have to- the fight?”

“Yes, I need to separate my eyelashes, and yes, the fight.” She said, tongue peeping out between her lips. “Benny is fighting and he’s going to come with us to the bar afterwards.”

Your heart sank, just a little. Benny was a great guy, and you were happy for Dina, but it was always harder to get into bars when Benny ‘Brick Shithouse’ Miller rocked up with facial wounds and an ego after inevitably winning the fight. 

Apparently their post-fight sex was insane.

“So it’s you, me, and Benny?” you asked flatly, and she rolled her eyes in a way that made your hands clench into fists, with a vivid mental image of the pin sinking into her eyeball. She ignored you, of course, and started on the bottom lid.

“No, you prick,” she said, teasing each lash apart. She paused, and winked at you through the mirror “Ha. Prick! Get it? Sandy, Amy and Kelly are joining us - and Benny is bringing his friends.”

“William and Tom?” You were trying so hard not to be a downer, you really were, but you’d met William and Tom before and it was not a great experience. William - Benny’s brother - was aesthetically pleasing, and a lovely guy, but way too earnest about the purity of combat, while Tom was… a douche. A douche who clearly enjoyed his nights away from the wife a little too much. “Great.”

“Not just Will and Tom,” she chided, finally putting down the pin and fluttering her eyelashes at her reflection. “A few of his old squad guys are coming too.”

“OK then,” you said, and turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Dina called.

“To get another drink.”

Based on the MMA prelude, you decided to rethink your outfit to something a bit less… showy, and had poured yourself into a skintight skirt with a shirt that helped accentuate your decolletage just right. So right, in fact, that you’d forgone a sensible coat in favour of a leather jacket that didn’t even close properly. The clothes did little to shield you from the cold, which explained why you had chugged nearly half a bottle of Smirnoff in the cab over. 

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

Dina looked every inch the fighter’s girlfriend, she really did. You didn’t even know she owned a faux-fur coat. Her meticulously-separated eyelashes were currently fluttered together, shielding her eyes from her cigarette smoke. 

Not that it helped. Your buzz was fading fast with every second you stood out in the freezing cold parking lot.

Sandy hadn’t bothered to change her outfit - “Fuck it, it can’t be any dirtier than the bar.” - and was leaning against the arena wall wearing a mini dress that practically showed what she had eaten for breakfast. The woman had legs up to her neck, and more than one man had slowed his passage into the arena to get a good look. Sandy, with legs that long since she was fifteen, and a face that had been beautiful her whole life, flipped each one off with a casual laziness you could never hope to emulate. 

The three of you were standing outside the arena waiting for Tom and the others to arrive. The crowd was known to get rowdy, and Benny had been very firm with Dina about going in with his friends. William was already inside with Benny, prepping him for the fight.

It was so cold you were nearly tempted to ask Dina for a pull of her cigarette, just to feel some warm air, when -

“Dee!”

Your face locked into a grimace, and you looked down to kick a loose pebble from under your shoe, trying to regain control of your facial muscles by the time Tom got close.

“Tommy!” Dina yelled. “You’re late, what the hell?”

“Don’t blame me,” Tom said, “Blame these assholes.”

Two sets of denim-wrapped legs stepped into your view, and you huffed out a little sigh before looking up. Tom was standing in front of you, with his friend on his right. 

His friend. Who was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen. He smiled at you, and you felt a small laugh escape you. 

What was that face? He looked like a Latino George Clooney. How did he get taken seriously in life?

“Hey, tiger,” Tom said to you, his lopsided smile showing a little too much teeth on one side.

“Hey… Tom.” you replied, raising a hand in greeting. He made a little ‘pfft’ sound and pulled you in for a hug, enveloping you in the smell of… dear god, was that Axe? 

You heard the crunch of gravel, and a movement out of the corner of your eye told you that the devilishly handsome man was currently introducing himself to Sandy. 

Probably wouldn’t have worked out with us anyway.

“How’re you doing, kid?” Tom murmured in your ear. Your skin hadn’t started crawling yet, but it definitely would soon.

“Redfly, leave the girl alone.” 

A third voice - the voice of God himself, if it meant that Tom would let you go. 

“This is my girl right here, Frankie.” Tom said, and the proprietary tone in his voice made your stomach turn. You should have just met them at the bar.

“Crazy, I thought your girl was sitting at home looking after your daughter and -” the second half of the sentence was in mumbled Spanish, and you heard a bark of laughter from the handsome man. A quick, rough pat on the back and Tom released you, already walking into the building as if nothing had happened.

The speaker was standing in front of you; a tall-ish man wearing a blue plaid shirt over a grey tank top, with a beat-up baseball cap on his head. Just as the phrase ‘hillbilly trucker’ crossed your mind, every thought in your head promptly vanished on looking up into his face. A pair of warm brown eyes were gazing down at you, creasing gently at the corners. He wasn’t built like Tom or William; they slanted more towards beefcake, where this guy was toned and slim. He was older than you - not a surprise, William and Tom were in at least their mid-40s - but it was a very manageable older. Unruly, curling brown hair peeked out from under his cap, and the man smiled, a shadow of a dimple appearing on his cheek.

The other guy was crazy good-looking in a movie-star way, the sort of hot that had made you laugh because it was almost unreal. This guy was the perfect side of handsome, mortal enough to take your breath away just a little and not make you feel stupid about it.

“Hey,” he said. “I’m Frankie.”

Maybe it was the dimples, maybe it was the fact that he had just saved you from a fate worse than death, or maybe the cold had finally gotten to your brain. Whatever it was, you barely knew what you were saying until you’d said it:

“And I am so fucking yours.”

So much for not feeling stupid. His smile widened, and your heartbeat quickened just a bit.

“Ignore Redfly,” he said. “He just doesn’t have good manners.”

Another burst of Spanish from behind you, from the dark-eyed Adonis near the door, and Frankie replied in kind, with an evocative hand gesture that you were pretty sure meant ‘fuck off’.

You finally turned to get a good look at the other man. He was standing in front of your friends, angled towards Sandy in a way that boded well for her. He was terribly good-looking.

“Hey, how’re you doing?” he leaned toward you, and took your hand in his. “Santiago Garcia.”

The man was on another level. You felt like you were meeting a politician. You told him your name as if in a dream. 

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said, looking into your soul, and you felt that laugh bubble up again. This was too much all at once.

Dina blew out one last plume of smoke, and threw her cigarette butt on the ground.

“Come on guys, it’s fucking freezing out here.”

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

The arena was chaos. Tom was nowhere to be seen, but he could have been standing two feet from you and you wouldn’t have seen him. He could have been behind you.

As the thought crossed your mind, a hand came to rest on your hip and you jumped sideways, ready to kick Tom in the fucki-

It was Frankie, hands suddenly up and visible, mouth framing a ‘whoa’ that you could never hear over the din of the crowd. You grimaced, mouthing sorry.

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, uncomfortable, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He craned his neck to look over the crowd, toward the ring, and you stepped quickly toward him. Your hand raised, like you had the right answer in a classroom, and you tilted your mouth up towards Frankie’s ear. He scrunched his face and bent his head towards yours.

“Sorry,” you said into his ear, trying not to deafen him at this range. He smelled warm, and clean, a welcome respite from the arena’s smell of old beer and sweat. “I thought it might be…” one of your best friends, whom I loathe. “... a creep.” you finished lamely.

When you pulled away, he was looking at you so intently that a blush started to creep up your neck. Hands still in his pockets, he rocked back and forth on his heels as he processed what you said. His tongue worked in his mouth, pushing out his cheek, before he winked ever so slightly, and nodded.

He knew. He damn well knew.

Frankie grinned and pointed towards the ring, to where your friends had disappeared, before nudging you forward.

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

Dina and the others were sitting ringside, by Benny’s corner. Dina had shrugged her coat in the sticky closeness of the arena, and was adjusting her top for maximum cleavage. Beside her was Sandy, deep in conversation with Santiago, and Tom sat beside Santiago next to an empty chair.

The single empty chair. 

Fucks sake.

Tom saw you both coming, and had a look of fake disappointment on his face that your hands twitched to slap off. He held his hands up in defeat, before patting his thigh. A quick scan showed that this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the arena; the place was jammed so tightly that you counted at least seven people on laps in this section alone. A fire hazard, and a pain in the ass. 

You’re fucking kidding me.

You went to take a step, and felt a hand grip your arm. Frankie was sliding past you on your right, pivoting to sit in the empty chair. A shit-eating grin slid onto Tom’s face, and he patted his thigh again.

You’re fucking kidding me. 

Frankie still held your arm loosely in his left hand. Reaching over Tom, he nudged Santiago, who broke off from his conversation long enough to pass him a beer. Settling back into his seat, Frankie spread his legs a little too wide and steered you into the space between them. 

He looked up at you under the brim of his cap, his face out of Tom’s eyeline. The corners of his mouth curved downward and one shoulder shrugged, as if to say ‘Why not?’.

Lightheaded, floating on a mental chant of fucking hell fucking hell fucking hell fucking hell, you perched on Frankie’s knee, your knees pressing against his other leg. A quick glance at Tom’s face nearly made you yelp. The ham-coloured man was staring sullenly out over the ring, lips pursed around his mouthful of beer. The smile was nowhere to be seen.

Frankie shifted slightly, and with one hand on your waist pulled you closer until you were sitting mid-thigh. When he was satisfied, his hand moved to settle against your lower back, keeping you upright. The shape of the seat had his body angled away from you, allowing you to sit upright without being nestled against him. He leaned towards Tom and said something in his ear, something you could barely hear over the din. It was as if he’d forgotten you were there.

But not quite. Slowly, as if you were a wild animal he was trying to tame, his hand started to move in gradual, broad strokes, forward and back, forward and back.

Your stomach muscles locking tight was your only visible reaction, and you thanked baby Jesus and all the angels in heaven that Frankie couldn’t feel the way your pulse had suddenly picked up. Though that might not be far off; there was a warm throbbing between your legs that definitely hadn’t been there two minutes ago.

Forward and back. Forward and back.

This was totally normal. This happened to you every day. Every day you met hot guys and sat on their laps. Every day you got mildly turned on by hot guys stroking your back.

Looking over at Dina, the two of you locked eyes. Her grin was positively wolfish.

Fuck off, you mouthed.

You looked around, hoping that the people-watching fodder available would help take your mind off the hot man you were sitting on and what his hand was - 

As if Frankie could hear your thoughts, the rhythm of his strokes changed. Now, instead of moving forward and back, his palm started sliding up and down, with every pass downward bringing his hand closer and closer to the curve of your ass.

For a fraction of a second, your breath caught in your throat, and the pulse between your legs kicked up a notch. Trying to keep your cool, you casually - so casually! - looked over at Frankie.

Still absorbed in conversation with Tom. Fine. He clearly had no idea what he was doing, no idea of the effect he was having.

Your awareness was steadily narrowing down to where his hand touched you, to the vague sensation of warmth that each pass left on your skin. Reaching the hem of your jacket, he paused almost imperceptibly, before reaching under the leather to rest on the back of your shirt.

Dear god, were you disappointed he wasn’t touching your ass? Were you actually sad that this stranger wasn’t - 

A radiating sensation on your back, so warm and firm, and suddenly you could feel every little movement his hand made, the way his fingers were flexing against your skin so gently - 

Air you didn’t realise you had been holding escaped your lungs in a whoosh. 

“Getting bored up there, tiger?” Tom’s expression wasn’t as friendly as it normally was, and you were reminded why all of this was happening. This was purely for Tom’s benefit. 

“No, it’s fine. It’s…” you looked down at Frankie as he took a sip of his beer. His eyes met yours over the rim of his beer cup, and a smile crept across your face. When the cup left his lips, you took it deftly from his fingers and lifted it to your mouth. Your gaze didn’t leave his. Tom may as well have been part of the furniture.

The beer was not good, but you finished it, and ran your tongue over your lips. Frankie’s eyes tracked the movement, and you felt his hand pause, felt his fingers splay wide across the small of your back.

“It’s great,” you said, winking down at him. “But I think we need another drink.”

You placed a hand on his knee for leverage, and stood. Dina saluted you with her nearly-empty drink, and tapped at the low liquid level with one long fingernail. You nodded, and flashed the OK sign.

A broad chest blocked your view, and the smell of Axe surrounded you. You glanced up at Tom, who was shaking his own empty cup. 

“I’ll come too,” he said. “I could do with another-”

“It’s cool, man,” Frankie stood, easily slotting himself between the two of you, and gently but firmly took hold of your shoulders as he turned to the exit. “I got it.”

Empty cups and debris were strewn across the aisle, and you were beginning to regret wearing your heels for what was shaping up to be a fucking obstacle course. But you felt Frankie’s presence behind you, and if you put a little more sway into your walk than normal, so what?

Between a few stragglers at the bar, there was a gap just wide enough for the two of you to lean against the counter. You rested on your forearms, and flagged down the bartender.

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

“Two beers, and a whiskey and coke.” 

“Make it four,” Frankie said. “I know it may not seem like it, but it is better to get Redfly liquored up. After about,” - his hand made a see-saw motion - “six drinks? He’s going to get real maudlin, start missing his wife, and go home.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, “He’s really missing his wife when he’s trying to put his hand up my skirt.”

His eyes flickered up and down your body, and he cleared his throat. One hand came up to scratch at his moustache, before smoothing it back down. 

“You know, I don’t blame him,” he said. “That skirt looks great on you.”

A low warmth pooled in your stomach, and you smiled. He smiled back, those beautiful eyes twinkling as he turned around to face the arena, elbows back on the bar.

“If I… go too far, in there,” he said, face suddenly serious. “You can just punch me in the face. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable.”

The bartender laid your whiskey and coke down in front of you, and pulled out two cups for the beer. 

“Two more of those, please,” you told her, and took a sip of your drink. You knew you were a bit of a savage for drinking whiskey with coke, but your sweet tooth demanded nothing less. “Frankie, I’m not really OK with the idea of ‘being saved’.”

“That’s fair,” Frankie turned to the bar, and rapped a quick tattoo on the wood. “When we get back in there, you take the seat and I’ll -”

“But,” you raised a finger. “Your lap is pretty comfortable. And if you’re OK with having my ass on your knee all night, then I’m happy to stay there.”

A laugh escaped him, and you found yourself appreciating the way his moustache framed his lips so perfectly. 

“I think you’d be hard pushed to find a man who wouldn’t be OK with that deal.”

The bartender laid down four cups of beer. “$25.60.” 

Frankie laid out three $10 bills, and pulled the cups closer. 

“Do you think you could make sure Tom doesn’t put his hand up my skirt?”

He was intent on arranging the cups in a way he could carry them, to the point that you thought he hadn’t heard you. Just as you were about to repeat yourself, he flashed you a wicked look.

“Well sweetheart,” he smiled, “I’ll just have to get my hand there first.”

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

As soon as you sat back down, it was like a switch had flipped. Your conversation at the bar had been light, to the point where you’d nearly forgotten that you’d actually been turned on a little at sitting on Frankie’s lap.

When you got back to your seats, and Frankie had handed off the beers he was carrying, he sat and pulled you down onto his lap in one fluid movement. No more tentative movements; he held your waist firmly, and pulled you even closer than before. And now, not only was his hand stroking your back again - he had put it under your jacket straight away - but his other arm was now resting on your leg. His beer cup sat on your knee, below where the hem of your skirt rode up, and he rotated it gently on your bare skin, almost teasing you with the cool feeling of the condensation on the base.

It drove you just a little short of wild. Though part of you wanted to shift against his thigh, wanted to feel some pressure right where an ache was steadily building between your legs, you kept it together fairly admirably. 

A wet patch on Frankies jeans probably wouldn't go down too well anyway.

A murmur from the crowd rolled towards the ring, and Pantera’s heavy guitar riff blasted through the speakers.

Benny was here.

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

Ringside seats were… certainly something.

The smell of blood hummed in your nostrils, and you felt the impact of every punch. 

Benny was a monster. He had swaggered into the arena, head and shoulders above everyone, and proceeded to hammer the shit out of his opponent once the bell rang. Watching the way Dina was looking at him, you were very, very glad they were going back to Benny’s place tonight.

The six of you were standing at the ring edge, screaming and roaring with the crowd. Your blood was singing. Sitting on Frankie’s lap, his hands leaving trails of fire wherever they touched you, had rattled you something fierce, and the adrenaline from the fight was getting to you too. You didn’t think your pulse had slowed for about ten minutes, and you were breathing like you were climbing a mountain.

It was the last minute of the last round, and Benny was flagging. 

You guessed. You really had no idea who was doing better, both fighters were covered in blood and looked tired as fuck.

Santiago, Dina and Tom were rattling the cage, howling through the wire at Benny. The man was intent on his opponent, never taking his eyes off him. 

As you watched, Benny did an odd movement, stepping back, rotating his shoulders and head as his feet danced. You heard roars come from your friends, but were completely lost. 

“He’s about to kick the guy’s head off his fucking shoulders,” Frankie’s voice was low, and close. You felt his nose brush the outer shell of his ear, and you suppressed a shiver as his breath ghosted over you. He was standing behind you, so close that you felt his warmth up your body from ankle to neck. He reached over your shoulder, and pointed up at Benny’s right foot.

“You see that?” 

Benny’s foot was moving in a fan shape on the floor of the ring. He dodged as much as he needed to to evade blows, but whenever he was still his foot moved in that fan shape. 

“Why is he waiting?” Turning your head, your nose brushed against Frankie’s jawline. He smiled down at you.

“Not long now, sweetheart,” he said. “Watch.”

He stepped closer until he stood flush against your back, and crossed his arms over your chest to grip his own elbows. His beard brushed against your cheekbone, and you found yourself nestling further into his hold. He was just so warm and solid and - 

Benny moved like lightning. His opponent came too close, ever so slightly unguarded, and Benny pivoted on his left foot and -

“Fuck!” you screamed. Benny’s opponent hit the floor, and the arena erupted.

===> Chapter Two

[ishades]

my most controversial take is that dave isnt bisexual

idk every relationship hes had with a woman save for one has just been him being taken in by bro proxies.

tz always has him guessing what shes actually feeling and forces him into strange and uncomfortable situations when shes not leading him to his death to teach him a lesson. theres her usual brand of blurring the lines between mocking and sincerity at times as well. shes impossible to actually get a read on but for most of their relationship in game its her puppeting him around and bolstering his loyalty with praise (flavor text mentions about daves bro keeping up with daves various blogs)

theres just always a sense of voyeurism when it comes to dave and tz and bro and tz. tz is a seer of mind for one thing, its complimentary class being heart lol. in the beta session she watches over him in a way thats reminiscent to bro and his various cameras filming dave at all hours and uploading it all online.

literally every person that ships him with his sister is just also vaguely into him hooking up with his brother-dad as well. theyre so obsessed with the idea of dave being utterly dependent on the goddess that is rose. hell excuse her alcoholism, hell quirk a joke, hell be tongue in cheek about how hes probably gay unless its for a theoretical mother he has or for his literal sister.

rose spends so long playing mental games with dave-- not to the extent of what bro did but her own brand. she is her fathers daughter. she spends so long playing these games theyre unable to be as close as either of them would like. he cant comprehend why she turns to alcohol when he knows she hated her mothers alcoholism. her actions are incomprehensible to him, just as incomprehensible as bros.

yes they make a suicide pact and carry it out. but its sad, rose planned to die alone without any consideration of how thatd make dave and the others feel because she didnt think it mattered. her suicide was a desperate cry for attention in the reaches of the vast unknown. and dave? dave whos so afraid of death refused to let her die alone. he didnt want her to die but he wouldnt let her be alone.

daves idk. daves loyal to a fault which brings me to jade. jade the girl everyone always expected him to get with. the girl karkat expected him to get with! its been implied multiple times he formerly had a crush on john in the comics-- a crush he put up on an incredibly high pedestal. (pesterquest is noncanon but he has a crush on john as well. still cant believe we got the title gayve strider dick rider or whatever. i blacked out when i watched that lets play route)

john shifts what the idea of being a man about in daves head. hes a hero like bro, a hero dave cant be. john is someone he emulates and tries to impress. the shades that are an integral part of daves identity are a gift from john. switching his bros shades out for johns gift lessens the hold bro has over him. he literally sees things through john lenses in a sense.

he thrives under praise and is unable to recognize jades teasing him about being sooooo cool as sarcasm. hes 13 shes 13 theyre both incredibly stupid about relationships but jade is somehow more passive than even dave during their session. he feels like he has to step in and act a certain way (back to the scratches influence on him and the girls) in the name of furthering the plot.

they were both raised with violence and a sense of isolation and so he goads her on. gets herself to slap herself in her dream to wake her up and tries to strong arm himself into being useful. jade sort of has to just let things happen for the plot.

theyre engaged in the strangest roleyplay of heterosexuality ive ever seen in any form of media actually. forcing themselves to act contrary to how they actually are / think / feel because its whats expected. its misogynistic wank fodder for caliborns folder.

davesprite and her date for a bit in the game over timeline but thats... thats original timeline first timeline ever dave clinging onto jade. his jade died ages ago. jadesprite-- someone who was at his side in a fight “died” and became part of godtier jade.

which is just... disconcerting when you remember that he also fought alongside bro against jack. bro was struck down and didnt get up. jade became a god.

davesprite never got to have the character arc of overcoming bros upbringing. he didnt have someone to confront him. he never recognized what bro put him through was abusive and he never properly analyzed how that played into his relationship with jade and it wasnt fair to either of them. jade needed someone and davesprite couldnt be that. 

jade wants him as a replacement for dave. she wants normalcy and davesprite is unable to give her that before he fucks off. 

its clear he has a lot of intrusive thoughts about incest but idk i think thats to be expected from his upbringing. not touching the epilogues bc those sort of assassinated everyones characters esp kanaya and jade imo.

i just think that itd be easier for him to sort of hide under the bi umbrella as a means of closeting himself and because hes at a point where he just cant let go of the idea of possibly having to settle down with a girl. even if he doesnt want that. coming to grips with liking men was hard enough for him (”how did you tell your friends?”) i think itd take at least a decade or two before he let go of the idea of him having to be open to the idea of liking women