#but when it's time for him to deal the fatal blow? he's controlled

[blizzardsuplex]

Yet each man kills the thing he loves; by each let this be heard: some do it with a bitter look, some with a flattering word; the coward does it with a kiss, the brave man with a sword. - Oscar Wilde, The Ballad of Reading Gaol

Adam Cole, mask on versus mask off from AEW's World's End 2023, 12/30/2023

[yokohamapound]

How about some angsty HCs?? 😏

How would Kunikida, Dazai, Fukuzawa, Chuuya and Fyodor (or anyone else you’d like too) react to their s/o taking a hit for them that would have otherwise been fatal if they didn’t?? S/o ends up being okay but the gentlemen are all angsty in the meantime >:)

Thanks so much lovely! 🥰💕

Hello, my lovely! It's been a while since I wrote some good old angst, so this scratched an itch. I hope these are what you are looking for!

Characters: Nakahara Chuuya, Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Kunikida Doppo

Contents: death mentions, suicide mentions, controlling behaviour, anger issues

Nakahara Chuuya

Ooh, it’s kinda difficult for him to deal with? He’s in two minds about it, really. 

On one hand, he’s strong enough that whatever blow was being dealt to him really wouldn’t have hurt him that much, or so he tells himself. All he can think about is that moment where the bullet/bomb/fireball, whatever it is, was coming toward you. Yes, you survived it, but he had to live through the nanoseconds of absolute hell when he thought he was just about to see another person he cares about die right before his eyes. 

His temper erupts afterward. He’s furious, yelling at you that you “didn’t fuckin’ need to do that!” You’d be forgiven for thinking that it’s his pride you’ve hurt, but it’s anger born of worry. Those few moments he thought you were going to die were harrowing for him. 

Imagine if he carelessly lost the person he loves the most, just because he was too slow or too stupid to see it coming? Shit, he could never live with himself if that happened. 

However, there’s the other side of the coin. Which is that you cared about him enough to intercept a blow aimed at him. Chuuya can’t remember the last time someone did that for him. He’s used to being the tank, to soaking up all the violence so the geniuses can get on with their schemes. He doesn’t really know how to handle someone trying to protect him, like he’s something vulnerable.

He likes it and he doesn’t. He’s grateful and he’s pissed. Chuuya’s a complicated creature. 

Once he’s done yelling and has calmed down a little, he’ll mutter something that sounds like a ‘thank you’, though he says it with his eyes mulishly averted and one arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He won’t be letting you out of his sight for a while, even while he’s being a grouch.

Dazai Osamu

While he might not show it on the surface, this has a rather profound effect on Dazai. Remember the last time someone he loved died in front of him?

While he pretends to be calm on the surface, inside he’s in turmoil. He should have seen it coming; you’re the self-sacrificing sort, always trying to save him in one or another. But before now, it hasn’t been literal. 

I feel like time moves very slowly for someone as fast as Dazai. He was able to process far too much information in those few seconds you were in danger. All of his mistakes, laid out for him as plain as day. 

He tends to convince himself that he can plan around every kind of incident but this is a start reminded that this isn’t always the case.

“Hey, bella?” His tone is unusually serious. His hand on your shoulder. “I’m going to need you not to do that again. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you die in front of me.”

If you pay close attention, you’ll notice Dazai doesn’t make any more double suicide jokes after that. They don’t have the same appeal. Dazai doesn’t think he could stand to watch you die, even if you did want to join him. 

He keeps a close watch on you after that, turning up unexpectedly throughout your day without any explanation, his lanky form popping up like a weed.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

While he will never, ever reveal it, this will shake Fyodor’s iron-clad ego a little bit. He likes to think he is in control of everything, and he can predict every single action of yours down to the blink. For whatever reason, he didn’t foresee you getting in his way and taking a hit meant for him. 

You gain an element of unpredictability, which is both intriguing and alarming for him. 

There is also the fact that you stepped in to take a hit for him. While he’s used to having underlings who look up to him like a god (Ivan), he doesn’t count you amongst the peons. He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, but in a way that promotes adoration and obedience, not self-sacrificing recklessness. He’ll have to step back and examine your relationship somewhat.

“My darling, what was the meaning of that?” he asks of you, his tone soft and a little dangerous. “I do not need you flinging yourself in the path of danger for me. I have everything in hand.”

He likes your devotion, but he doesn’t want you getting in the way of his plans. And he does care about you, love you in his own way—he doesn’t want to lose something he sees as his. 

If you were injured at all, he will have the best private doctors on hand to treat you. Be prepared for his love and attention to be a little stifling for a while. He won’t want to let you out of his sight. 

As for the person whose attack you foiled? Fyodor will turn the full weight of his enormous intellect to destroying them. They were dead the moment their attack came near something he cares about.

Fukuzawa Yukichi

Fukuzawa is very much the self-sacrificing sort. He’s said more than once that he doesn’t mind giving up his life in order to ensure peace in Yokohama, or to protect the lives of the younger members of the agency. He’s heavily bound by duty.

While he holds these values to himself, he doesn’t expect you to abide by the same code. In fact, he doesn’t want you to. You’re not a grizzled old samurai like him. (His words, not yours.)

He also heavily dislikes the idea that you were in danger because of him. Your relationship with him shouldn’t be a source of danger for you. As soon as he’s sure you’re safe and well, he will sit back and mull things over in his silent, intense way. He considers all options, from simply killing the person who tried to attack him, to ending your relationship with him to ensure your safety.

Thankfully, he comes to the conclusion that you are an adult who knows what is good for you. He’s never hidden the truth from you, and if you’re willing to face that to stand at his side, then Fukuzawa needs to respect that. He can’t make your decisions for you. 

“However,” he says. “I must ask that you do not do that again. I can accept my own death, but not yours.”

“Don’t you trust me to watch your back?”

“Obviously, you can be trusted,” he says. “Today is evidence enough, but know that I could not live with myself if you were injured or killed looking out for me. If death is coming for me, I have earned it.”

He can’t really be talked out of this mindset, but that’s part of why you fell for him in the first place. Just make him a promise that you won’t put yourself at risk on his behalf. 

Kunikida Doppo

Poor Kunikida.

One of his ideals is that he will never watch anyone die right in front of him if he can help it. The last time he had to watch an innocent person die, it almost shattered his psyche. 

If you were to die in front of him, it would break him utterly. Even though you’re fine, the close shave rattles him down to his core. Instead of blowing his top and then settling down, the way you’re used to him doing, Kunikida becomes grim and quiet. 

He refuses to step away from your bedside while you’re in the hospital for a check-up after the incident. His notebook of ideals is folded in his pocket, ignored. The fact he isn’t scribbling anything down is a little alarming. He’s not Kunikida if he’s not adding little notes to it every five minutes. He has his hands steepled together, his face grim behind his glasses.

“Are you going to yell at me?” you ask him. 

Kunikida lifts his gaze to you, almost as if he’s surprised to hear you speak. He breaks out of his reverie a little bit, sitting up and pushing his glasses further up his nose. The light hits the lenses, hiding his expression from you a little. His voice is sombre.

“I must thank you for saving my life,” he tells you, almost formal. 

“That’s not the only thing bothering you, is it?” You know him well enough by now. You reach out and take one of his hands.

Kunikida fingers tighten around yours, trembling slightly. It’s the only way that you can see how completely off centre he is. 

“Kunikida?”

“Don’t…don’t make me worry like that again. Please.”

[effloradox]

I love Taylor swift and twilight! Ur blog is perfection 💜! Do you mind doing more jasper fan fics!

thank you so much, you're so sweet 🥺

Jasper doesn't like to talk about his past. Conversions about his history are reserved for late night whispers, when it's just the two of you in the safe haven of your room. It's not something you hold against him, you can't judge him for something he did over a hundred years ago in bad faith, but you know he feels resentment for the person he used to be. You know how much he struggles with controlling his thirst, and it’s still not the easiest thing for you to deal with.

The problem with introducing a human into a house full of vampires is that it had the potentially to go fatally wrong. Control is something that all your coven take very seriously, it's the only way you can continue to exist amongst humans after all. Everyone knows that it's you and Jasper that have the hardest time controlling yourselves around blood, it’s not exactly a secret. It never fails to astound you the sheer amount of control that Carlisle exhibits on a daily basis in his job. You're getting better with controlling your urges, and you haven't relapsed for a while but introducing a clumsy human into the house felt like a disaster waiting to happen.

In a way you blame Edward. Your emotions towards your adoptive brother are complicated even on a good day, but the idea of him bringing his human girlfriend into the house for her birthday felt like a terrible idea from the offset. Part of you had hoped Alice would have some dramatic vision that would mean you could call the whole thing off but all she'd seen was an admittedly nice vision of Bella blowing out the candles on her birthday cake surrounded by all of you.

It seemed Edward had forgotten how unbelievably accident prone his new girlfriend was though. An unforgivable oversight on his part, one you'll definitely be calling him out on later. You'd turned your back on the birthday girl for a second, just to look over to where Alice and Esme were putting the finishing touches on the cake when you'd smelt it. The acrid coppery smell of blood hit your nose instantly and every fibre of your being is drawn towards it like a forbidden siren call. Your sisters had moved to your side in an instant, only partially caging you against the kitchen counter you'd been leaning on. It's hard trying to centre yourself and not give into the urges, and it's only what's taking place on the other side of the kitchen that really brings you back to yourself.

Jasper is looking much worse for wear. His senses have honed in on Bella and all of you can tell he's only seconds away from pouncing. Emmett and Edward have their arms around him in an instant, stopping him from beelining towards the injured human but it's clear he's putting up enough of a fight that they'll struggle to restrain him for a long time. You're in front of him in the time it takes Bella to blink, your hands cupping his face gently to keep his eyes on you. Edward had pushed her towards the wall as soon as he'd heard Jasper's thoughts so she's not as close as she was, meaning she only hears fragments of what you're saying to him.

"Hey, hey, Jas it's okay. It's okay. It's just a little blood. Look at me, it's okay yeah?" Your words seem to be having some effect but Bella notes that Emmett and Edward still haven't let Jasper out of their grip. Carlisle appears by her side and she's vaguely aware that he's speaking to her but her eyes are still trained on you and Jasper. Your words seem to be having some kind of effect on him and it sends a small pang through her chest that you have the ability to calm Jasper down even in the face of the strongest temptation when Edward sometime can’t even look at her as a result of his urges.

Her eyes are still trained on the two of you as Esme leads her out of the room to go and find the first aid kit. The last thing she sees is Edward and Emmett letting Jasper go as he collapses in your arms almost bonelessly. His arms wrap around your waist as his head rests on your shoulder, giving you ample chance to press a chaste kiss to the crown of his head.

[taylortaylormoon]

Some Memories Never Leave

Misplaced Memories After taking what should have been a fatal blow, Zoro wakes up in an alternate universe in the body of his alternate self, where his two selves fight for control of the body - a child’s body. (Aka  Zoro is sent to an au, where he is younger and the adopted son of Mihawk (and, by extension, shanks) and has to deal with conflicting memories.

Zoro regains consciousness with a start. His breathing kicks into high gear, and his heart pounds. The harsh light in the room causes his already tender head to ache, so he closes his eyes against the light, but that doesn't impede his other senses. He felt heat from a nearby body, one that was in a meditative state by his bedside, and was awakened by Zoro’s breathing. 

“Good, you are awake,” Mihawk’s voice broke through Zoro’s haze, and his mentor sounded…relieved, shuffling at Zoro’s bedside to place his hand on top of Zoro’s head. The act itself was strange and out of character for the warlord, the slight hesitation paired with the familiarity of the gesture. Next was the sensation of the contact; Mihawk’s hand felt as big as his head as it touched the touch, raking through hair that was longer than it should have been and touching a tender spot at the back. “Mi- What?” Zoro’s question was interrupted by a string of harsh coughs caused by his dry and itchy throat. “Poor dear, here drink.’ Mihawk says, holding the cup up to Zoro’s mouth like the younger man could not hold the cup himself. Zoro had many questions running through his mind, starting with what happened to him. His memory had a glaring blind spot of how he had gotten from where he was to where he was now. Zoro’s next question was what happened to Mihawk to make the man act the way he is; during their time together during Zoro’s two-year training period, the warlord had only ever called him by his last name. Being called ‘dear’ was almost enough to make him spit out the water, but it felt nice on his sore throat, so Zoro kept drinking. The angle at which Mihawk had the cup made it impossible to drink as fast as he wanted to. That didn’t stop Zoro from trying to gain control of the cup; his hands grasped the cup, brushing against Mihawk’s hand, another weird sensation that didn’t match what Zoro knew. The cup felt large, his hand barely covering the surface, and the rim touched the tip of his nose. Once Zoro was finished, the cup was pulled back and sat on a nearby wooden table. While his throat felt better now that he had a drink, the pounding in his head didn't help. Zoro opened his eyes again, hoping his sensitivity to light had passed, but it didn’t. The glaring overhead light seemed to stay where it was. A slight whine escaped Zoro’s notice when he shut his eyes for the second time, but it didn’t escape Mihawk’s. “Is the light bothering you then?” Mihawk asked, and before Zoro could respond, the man was shuffling again, moving something metal from overhead. The light felt dimmer, and he thought it was safe to open his eyes. The room wasn't as bright as before, but it still bothered Zoro’s eyes when he opened them. It took a moment to adjust; he could see fuzzy shapes and Mihawk’s fighter standing nearby, but the finer details were now lost on him. Once his eyes adjusted, he could see the room he was in; it was likely primarily the Captain Quarters, given the size and layout; he was lying on a large bed occupying a section of the room, and his second instinct was right. He wasn’t on the Thousand Sunny or Kuraiganan island. He was on a ship. Not only was the location unfamiliar to him, but it was also strange as if it was made for a giant. Zoro looks to his left, where he believes Mihawk to have been, and sure enough, sitting at his bedside watching him was the warlord. Only the last time they saw each other, Zoro had been the same height, if not a bit taller. Now, it looked like Mihawk had grown significantly, or more realistically, Zoro had shrunk to the size of a child. Which doesn't make sense to him. However, at the same time, it did as if two competing senses of self were fighting for control and causing his headache to worsen into a full-blown migraine. Oneself told him he was not a child but a grown man, and he was Roronoa Zoro, a pirate hunter turned into a pirate's first mate. The other self told him he was a child of Dracule Zoro, the son of the world’s greatest swordsman. Zoro tries to focus on these memories that aren’t but somehow are his; the pain behind his eyes feels sharp and excruciating, causing tears to swell in his eyes. But Zoro pushes past the pain, trying to think back to how he got injured, but his thoughts are too cluttered.

“Zoro?” MIhawk asked, placing a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, “Darling, you are crying. Does your head still hurt?”

Zoro could only nod his head, the pain making him unable to speak coherent words, only childish babble as he cried harder.

"Oh dear," Mihawk coos softly; he sweeps Zoro into his arms, pressing the boy to his chest and rocking him. Zoro is torn between wanting to fight out of the hold and wanting to bury himself further in Mihawk’s arms, seeking comfort for his pounding head. “Crying will only worsen it, my dear; you must calm down.”

Daddy Mihawk was right, but his childish wailing only worsened his headache, but he couldn’t stop. It felt good to cry to let out his frustrations and confusing emotions, even if it would worsen his headache.

“How’s-” Shanks stops in the doorway to his quarters; the words ‘How our boy was doing’ die quickly on his tongue when he sees the two before him.

Little Zoro was awake, thank The Blue, but he was crying- wailing his little head off while Mihawk appeared unbothered, but Shanks knew his partner better than that. He saw how rigid Mihawk’s body was as Zoro cried. How tightly he held the boy against his chest and the way he paced the room. The warlord was distressed, knowing their son was in pain and being unable to help.

“Shanks,” 

[possqueen]

lucouverse lore 101

a comprehensive post for everything leading up to the events of my long term passion project game Lucou: Tome of the Reborn as well as some fun worldbuilding bits

Age of Creation:

The realm of gods, Aelasos, is created by the angel of existence, Apatsumi

Apatsumi also creates two pseudo-deity races to inhabit Aelasos: - the Oneh, capable of terraforming and sculpting the lands - the Aelo, capable of creating life

The Oneh and Aelo begin working hand in hand to form the world now known as Otiriel, both races working hand in hand to develop it's geography and ecosystems

Creation Wars

Over time, the Aelo begin to gain a sense of superiority over the Oneh due to their life-giving abilities

They take over a majority of Aelasos, known as the Aelo Kingdom, forcing the Oneh into the outskirts of the land

Unrest brews within the Oneh, inevitably turning into a full revolution against the Aelo Kingdom

The Oneh Revolution eventually becomes a fully fledged war between the Aelo and Oneh, dubbed the Creation Wars.

End of the Wars

Ra Sendu, an archer from the Aelo king Va Retki's army, begins falling for the Oneh leader, a royal named Lucou.

Sendu betrays the Aelo army to join the Oneh and fight alongside her lover.

Va Retki catches wind of this and goes to face Lucou head on.

He dukes it out with Lucou, but Sendu prevents him from dealing the final blow, taking a fatal hit instead.

In her grief, Lucou deals a fatal blow to the Aelo king. She then calls for the Oneh to move on to Otiriel, where they build temples in their respective regions.

Sendu's soul goes on to incubate within a tree in the forests of Otiriel, where she will inevitably be reborn within a host.

150 years following the end of the Wars, an Otirien named Aime-Aran Asturi is born and chosen as Sendu's new host. Sendu's soul would begin its final stages of incubation and awaken within Aime in 14 years.

Biology

Within the worlds of Otiriel, there are a few different species with various races.

Angels are dragon-like omniscient beings that are in charge of life, death, time, and fate. They control the universe and ensure everything follows the strict rules of fate.

Aelo, as described above, are pseudo-deities that are capable of creating life. They tend to physically look more like anthropomorphic animals, which resulted in much of the life on Otiriel resembling the Aelo themselves.

Oneh, also described above, are the other species created by Apatsumi, capable of terraforming. Unlike the Aelo, they can be easily identified by race and region:

Sculptors are the Oneh of the Mountains. They're the ones responsible for molding and chiselling mountain ranges on Otiriel.

Gardeners are the Oneh who breathe life and vegetation into Otiriel's forests and plains, being responsible for planting and tending to the foliage.

Divers are amphibious Oneh that create the world's bodies of water.

Cavers are the Oneh responsible for digging the various caverns in Otiriel and creating its gemstones.

Royals are capable of all forms of terraforming.

Otiriens are the main dominant species of Otiriel, following the end of the Creation Wars and the Oneh's move to Otiriel. They typically have greenish skin and deer-like noses as well as horns that vary depending on their region, i.e. forest-dwellers having more antler-like horns or mountain-dweller having ram-like horns. Mixed Otiriens (like Aime) develop horns with attributes from both parents.

Patsun are just opossums. They were created by the Aelo in Apatsumi's image to be the most perfect little guys.

Reincarnation

When a (typically Aelo) soul is to be reincarnated, it first enters a state called incubation where it will reside within a non-sentient life form (usually a tree) until it has recovered from any damage caused at death. Once it is finished incubating, it will find a host to reside in. Incarnate hosts may not always be Otiriens, they are just more likely due to being the dominant race on Otiriel.

In the event a non-Aelo soul is to be saved, an Aelo must draw a Rebirth Sigil to mark them for rebirth. If one attempts to save a soul that is doomed by fate, they will feel Apatsumi's wrath as the soul exits incubation.

[void-occupation]

Halt's Brain Damage

I mentioned Halt's head trauma in an earlier post, and said that I would elaborate on it. Well, this is my elaboration. Keep in mind, I am not a health care professional, I am only certified to perform first aid. I am only speaking from what I have witnessed in someone who has had a similar condition from a motorcycle accident, and from what I find and cross-reference in my internet search on the matter.

Halt, as we know, has suffered MANY blows to the head - a lot of which could have been fatal if not for the intervening hand of Lady Luck and some very conveniently placed Plot Armor™. Now something that both the characters in the books, and probably a good portion of the readers either don't know about or haven't considered is the resulting brain damage - or more specifically, the damage done to Halt's gray matter.

For those of you who don't know (no shame), gray matter is tissue in the brain that is largely responsible for motor functions, emotions, and memory. Gray matter cells are known to be the longest lasting cells in the body, but they do tend to degenerate and die as people get old. There are other things that can speed up the process of gray matter cell death, most notably Alzheimer's disease, Parkinson's disease, multiple sclerosis, and traumatic brain injury.

I have a friend who was once in a bad motorcycle accident that resulted in a metal rod and screws being put into his wrist, and a sudden increase in gray matter cell death brought on by the head trauma. He was a teacher of mine and currently has a wife, daughters, and grand daughters, and he is just over fifty years old. I had the same class with him all year for 4 years (JROTC), and during that time, I was able to see how the condition affected him as time passed. He does make jokes about it, and is very open with it. I also asked him if it would be okay to post this beforehand, don't worry. The symptoms that Halt experience in my headcanon align with this because it is my closest experience with it.

Obviously, these characters don't know what gray matter is, but that doesn't mean it won't affect Halt, and some of these symptoms are things that Halt experiences in the books. I'll give examples of that too.

One of the symptoms of gray matter damage is difficulty controlling emotions. Now you may be saying, "But Void, Halt practically patented the ability to control emotions," and you're right. However, we all know that Halt has a pretty quick temper that can lead to some rash decisions - and this seems to get slightly worse as the books go on. One of the biggest emotions that people with damaged brain matter have issues dealing with is anger - closely followed by sadness and feelings of emptiness (AKA signs of depression).

Another symptom of gray matter damage is memory loss. The only example of this I can think of off the top of my head (that doesn't include when he was poisoned which is a whole other type of trauma) is when he had extreme trouble finding the correlation between the red hills and Redmont in book 7. Then again, it was a stressful situation and no one can be expected to notice everything. Not to mention that he was the only one to make the connection at all. This one and the next one are more for angst potential then as current existing evidence. Imagine really quick as Halt gets older that the memory loss starts slow - forgetting that he already told someone something, forgetting where he put something, etc. Small stuff. But later, it gets worse. He starts to forget meeting new people, important past events, how to cook certain things, or even just trailing off in the middle of a sentence - unable to remember his original purpose for speaking, almost as if a sort of fog has started blocking things out. A lot of times, he'll know that he knew it at some point, but sometimes, he doesn't remember that he knew that thing in the first place. Sometimes gentle reminders will work, and other times, entire stories, recipes, and tasks will have to be completely re-hashed with him.

The final symptom I'm going to cover in this already too-long post is how gray matter damage affects fine motor skills and language. I'm fairly certain that there is an example of this somewhere in the books, But I would have no clue where to look. We're going full angst potential on this one boys. Again, it starts small - some slight tremors in his hands here, a troublesome button there. Then, it gets worse as the years pass. Having difficulty tying knots, writing getting more and more difficult, cutting his hand while trying to prepare food, dropping his mug of coffee for no apparent reason, sometimes slurring his speech, forgetting certain words from other languages, not realizing that he had reverted back to Hibernian in the middle of a sentence because his brain temporarily stopped being able to comprehend Araluen speech.

Halt doesn't want to tell anyone that the changes in his behavior that he can't seem to control frighten him. He's never been genuinely afraid of his own mind before up until he could no longer control what happened. It was a type of fear he was unfamiliar with, but couldn't stop from growing every time he failed to tie a knot, or someone told him about an event he couldn't remember. Everyone else was afraid too, but they toned down their own fear whenever they saw that desperate look in Halt's eyes that he couldn't quite hide, the one that begged for any confirmation that he wasn't crazy.

What the hell. I just wrote an entire essay. You know those posts that say, "In this essay I will discuss..." but they never get to the essay? Yeah, that but completed. This was born from the fact that Hal't has had a bunch of head injuries and I immediately thought 'haha brain damage go brr' and proceeded to write that in essay form. If you've made it to the end of this monstrosity, more power to you.

I'm going to try to go into a coma now.

[legendary-pink-dot]

Home at Sunset

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x reader (no gender specified, but female in my mind)

Rating: Mature. A couple references to sexual activity.

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: Frankie and his aviators. Sunrise, sunset, and all the moments in between.

Notes: No use of "Y/N". No mention of Frankie's canon child. Angsty as hell; I am SO sorry, Frankie and Frankie's emotionally tortured and misunderstood lady.

A sunrise

Civil twilight gives rise to the first rays of sun. It's a sudden flash in the cockpit as they reach the end of the Andes mountain range and the start of the ocean, where their getaway boat awaits them. Frankie gently nudges the helicopter a shade higher, his touch confident but featherlight. So focused he forgets to put on his aviator sunglasses to protect his sight.

"Alright, baby, alright..." As snipers treat their weapons as a beloved and animate object, so too does Frankie with every aircraft he pilots, simultaneously guiding them and giving them exactly what they need.

One final ridge to clear and they'll have put this mission behind them. A mission that had gone wrong right from of the start, their team leader ignoring his instincts in favor of greed, and Frankie and his teammates making the mistake of not standing up to him. The result was having to do things other what they went there for, and running against time to leave with their stolen money and their lives.

"Come on now, come on..." he croons, just as sweetly as he did to you every night when he was home in happier times. A touch more elevation, *right there, just like that,* that's all it would take to get over the peak. She's close, so close, and he's almost there, he's got you...

**bang**

The gearbox blows and the helo suddenly drops, a plunging freefall that brings fearful shouts from his teammates. Frankie is the pilot you can trust, the calm in any storm. That's why he's always chosen. He furiously recalculates, readjusts, recalibrates on the fly, letting his years of experience and training take over.

In the few safe seconds he has left, he makes a controlled descent into the smoothest patch of jungle he can find, fatally spinning out but saving his team.

The loss of their transport hurts more than their cuts and bruises, but it's not the most pressing issue at the moment. Their landing site is remote and full of angry villagers, half fearful of the intrusion and half eager to claim the bags of stolen money that fell from the sky.

The slaughter that happens next is not his fault, yet he supposes it somehow is. The team silently loads the loot onto mules while Frankie packs away every poor decision that led to this moment, leaving the heaviest of baggage to deal with later as they make their slow and perilous trek towards home.

One early morning

"They trust me. They're putting their lives in my hands. It's my job to keep them safe."

It was Frankie's usual justification for going on private missions after retiring from the service, and he had used it again just hours before he was set to leave, both of you still agitated and arguing well into the early hours past midnight.

He takes that responsibility seriously -- too seriously you thought, wondering why he was willing to risk himself and his newfound peace of mind again for a team that didn't truly appreciate him. It was a rhetorical question and you knew it. "What about your responsibility to me? To us? You never come all the way back from these trips, and I hate seeing what it does to you."

Frankie had merely shrugged, raising his hands as if to say, "I have no choice." You knew he didn't, in a way. His loyalty to his teammates, his comrades, his friends ran deeper than you could ever hope to understand. It had helped fuel your love for him, but was also the source of your greatest pain, having to help Frankie put himself back together every time a piece of him was broken off.

"It's just recon," he'd promised. "It's safe. Easy money and no flying. I'll be home in 3 or 4 days." His voice had been calm but you heard the premonition of doubt floating below it. Never a good sign. A good pilot trusts their instincts, and Frankie was one of the best.

You had clung to each other that night, resigned to whatever fate the mission would decide to bring you, the risk always present of him not coming back and this moment being your last chance to savor him. You'd rocked against him, close and tight in his lap for an eternity, chasing a high that usually came easily but for once eluded you. A premonition twinned to Frankie's that you couldn't let go of, or for.

You'd woken a few hours later to discover he'd left while it was still pitch black outside. He hadn't waited for that pre-dawn time you usually love to languish in together, when he quietly slides thick and hot and sweet inside you, free but moored, both of you suspended in time and feeling like the world is holding its breath just for you. You'd slept in too late to catch the moment. You wondered when you'll be allowed to capture another.

An afternoon

It's been a full 5 days without any contact from Frankie, and none of the team's partners had heard anything either. That wasn't normal, but it had happened before. Going no-contact during a private mission was critical for your safety and theirs. You couldn't do anything but trust, hope, and wait.

As you finish your lunch, it's raining hard. You reach into the hallway closet for your umbrella, pausing beside the accessory rack and noticing for the first time since he left that he'd taken the wrong pair of aviator sunglasses with him. He was supposed to take his usual mission pair with the polarized lenses for high contrast, but had apparently taken his daily-wear mirrored chrome ones instead. "Just recon. No flying," he'd said. Right.

The same dread from that earlier promise returns and throttles you. You wish wherever Frankie is right now and whatever he's dealing with, that his vision is clear. It's the best you can hope for.

The sunset

Cars pass your house without stopping, a dog barks, kids are in the street playing out their last few minutes of dusky freedom. The golden hour passed long ago, and you've sat through 7 of them now without Frankie, sitting at your kitchen table paralyzed with fear and doubt. This is your 8th and you don't know how many more you can take.

You know the sound of Frankie's truck intimately: the purr of the well-tuned motor maintained by a dedicated mechanic, how the gravel in the driveway crunches differently than when underfoot the lighter wheels of your hatchback. You hear it now and wonder if it's a mirage. This announcement of his arrival is a sound you'd almost given up hoping for, and you let out the breath you didn't even realize you were holding.

You sprint to the door and fling it open. Most people would see a tired but normal Frankie walking up your driveway, but all you see is a shell, a ghostly being you recognize from the homecoming of previous missions. It's less of a soul and more of an enclosure for heavy burdens like relief, survivor's guilt, and personal recriminations. Your heart leaps and you forget every frustrated, hopeless word that was said the night before he left.

He drags himself up the flight of steps and falters. You see yourself reflected in his mirrored aviators, and you gently reach out to remove them so you can search his eyes for what you need to see.

Night closes in, the final tint of daylight fades, and Frankie falls into your arms and breaks.

[tgrailwar-zero]

Izou.. Izou, you’ve done well. It’s alright, just. Don’t give yourself away. It’ll be alright. It’ll be okay, you’ve done really well, you did the best you could. Hide if you can, and if not, then be still and quiet. No matter what, we’ll be with you to the very end. We’re really really sorry that we can’t do more but. Breathe for us. You’ve done well <33

You take time to sit there and say things that you never said. Lingering regrets, maybe. They fell on deaf ears.

The issue with combining dreams and memories is that the annals of control are difficult to parse. The lines between what happened because 'it already occurred' and what happened 'because you willed it in the now' were blurred. But now, they felt clear, as the reactions between your words and ASSASSIN's response were rather definitively split.

Gone from converging together to progressing in parallel.

It was hard to tell why now the difference became so defined.

Perhaps it was karma, as KARNA had said. A brief, clearer look into the weeds of what had happened. Not nice, but necessary.

It's hard to remember exactly what you told him during that first bout, but it was enough for him to push himself back up to his feet with his sword drawn and march out the door with reluctance, venom, and a lack of self-preservation.

It was probably something rational.

Thinking about it- you could reroute whatever mana you were wasting on him to other Servants. Create better plans. This wasn't a failure, it was simply a setback. And Servants didn't die, they were familiars. They disappeared until they were re-summoned. It was a numbers game, and that LAIR SERVANT had a much higher potential for danger to your Servants than ASSASSIN had for the Servants for the Solar Cell. Either way, this was fruitful. And KARNA revealed his True Name, adding additional fuel to your fires.

When it came to a Grail War like this, drenched in Mystery, OKADA IZOU was already a weak link. Maybe if he was dealing with more modern Servants in more modern circumstances he'd be something to fear, but the Lair Servants of the Solar Cell were on another level. He was outmatched from the start. But he did his job well- a successful assassination against a Divine Spirit was nothing to scoff at.

You could imagine thoughts. Overlaying. Twisted. Whispering.

Bravo. You were winning. You sacrificed a pawn for a rook and then gained crucial information. This was a win. A net positive. If you thought about it like that, then this was basically inevitable. So there was no sense in calling it a heroic last stand- it was a choice of pure pragmatism.

--You could assume your thoughts back then were something along those lines, potentially, as you watched him bravely step out for his death. Perhaps he could land a fatal blow before he was killed. Do enough heavy damage that they'd have to waste a few of their resources to heal KARNA.

You remember the short, final words the two Servants exchanged before their bout.

KARNA: "…You've come out to fight."

IZOU: "Yep."

KARNA: "You can't win."

IZOU: "I know. But let's see if I can draw some blood first."

KARNA: "…You won't. Goodbye, Assassin of the Interlopers."

The fight was skipped over, without any fanfare.

Really, what was the point when you knew the result?

For whatever it was worth, it wasn't overly painful, or gruesome. It seemed like KARNA had mercy. It was just bright, as the bowstring was pulled taut and light rained from the skies.

Light. Bright, unrelenting light. Nothing but the merciless rays of the sun.

-

You woke up.

KUKULKAN already in the midst of stretches as the gentle rays of the sun trickled in through the window.

[aeniqmata]

On Combat and Fighting Style - Clive HC

Clive's combat has evolved with him. While he initially was taught how to fight as a Shield of Rosaria. Proper fighting with a little bit of snazz that makes it very clear he is from Rosaria and is sworn to protect the Phoenix. This style is meant to work well with others and often times is seen as a very proper style of fighting.

After escaping from Imperial custody, it's clear to anyone who knew him before that he fights with very little of that style. Clive relies on his armor heavily, as his viewpoint is that the best defense is a good offense. He hits hard and fast and leaves people with very little time to react to blows before he moves onto the next.

If an attack will either immediately break something or send him flying, he'll dodge or try to parry it. He knows that getting sent flying could be a death sentence, and broken bones aren't easy to heal with potions and can put him out for weeks. Most attacks however, he will charge straight through. He has the constitution and willpower to break through anything and won't let cuts or gashes stop him.

As a result, while the leathers that he wears are form fitting and don't leave much room for protection to be under them, he uses the armor and pauldrons on his arms to protect his vitals, often throwing his arms up or away to clear an enemies weapons away from them so he can deliver a blow of his own.

When it comes to his approach to combat, he tries his hardest to incapacitate enemies when at all possible, but given his status as a Deserter to most, he fights most people to the death. The more people he can prevent from finding the Hideaway or following him and dealing a fatal blow when he's not paying attention, the better. If subduing someone is what is called for, he will often times not take the field.

Clive is aware that he fights like a man possessed and tends to lose control in combat, and for that reason he prefers fighting alone, or with as few people near him as possible.

After awakening as Ifrit, Clive only gets more reckless while Semi-Primed. He can regenerate most wounds just by staying on the attack due to the unique blend of magic in his body. All tactics go out the window when he fights Semi-Primed, and instead he will close gaps and shrug off blows that might kill a normal man.

Because of his poor control over Ifrit initially, Semi-Priming is exhausting and he tends to only use it when backed into a corner or if he needs to tear through enemies quickly. This is a guaranteed death sentence for anyone who gets in his way, as short of decapitating him, he will not stop. Priming in full can bring back limbs, so even should he suffer egregious injury, he is not likely to stop attacking.

[wincestbigbang]

2022 Master Post

Title: Bat Boy: The Fic Author: cleighwrites Artist: outofnowhere82 Other Pairing: side John and Mary Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Summary: A Bat Boy is found in the nearby woods and is adopted into the family of town Veterinarian John Winchester, much to his chagrin. The family - wife Mary and son Sam - falls in love with him, and they name him "Dean." Dean learns what it means to be human after so many years of living on his own in a cave. However, the townsfolk are less inclined to take him in, and life is not made easy for the untraditional family. Truths come out in a fatal encounter, will Sam and Dean be left in peace to live their lives in the aftermath? Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3 Title: The Taste of Endogenous Morphine Author: Jenchantress_stories Artist: MidnightSilver Other Pairing: Dean / OFC (in a flashback) Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Underage Masturbation, Self-harm, blood and injury, first time, anal sex, top Dean / bottom Sam Summary: Set between 15x19 and 15x20. Since their adolescent days, Sam and Dean desired each other in ways they shouldn’t. About 20 years later, the two of them finally found peace and freedom. They easily settle into an apple-pie life. At least, that is what it seems, but Sam can’t shake off his doubts. Is this the reality? Or maybe too good to be true? Pain used to be a good coping mechanism until it got out of control. After a near-fatal incident, Dean suggests that something else might do the trick… Art: Ao3 Story: Ao3 Title: Avenging Angels Author: ncdover1285 Artist: alexiescherryslurpy Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: mentions of sex trafficking children, kidnapping of children, trafficking of minors, murder, serial killers, descriptions of kills, blood, turned on by blood, John Winchesters A+ parenting, torture, violence, first kiss because of violence, murder, first kiss, Sam is demisexual, inappropriate boner, Dean Winchester’s first time with a man, top Sam Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, public sex, frottage/grinding, bottoming from the top, Impala sex, car sex, Sex in the impala, oral sex, blow jobs, virgin Sam Winchester, supportive Bobby, multiple POV, wincest, incest, torture Summary: When their mother was killed, Sam and Dean were tossed around from motel room to motel room by their father. That was until they went to stay with a family friend who raised them as his own. One day, they get a call that their father has died too. The brothers set out to find the person who killed their parents, not knowing what that would lead to and the life they had in store. Art: Ao3 Story: Ao3 Title: Can We Go Bump in the Night? Author: SetsunaNoroi Artist: OutofNowhere82 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: None Summary: Sam, still reeling from being thrust back into the life as a hunter and his dad’s demise, is rethinking things. Mostly his inability to be honest with his loved ones like Jessica or his dad. Desperate not to repeat the same mistake, he decides to tell Dean how he really feels for him. Problem? Well, he really kind of sucks at the seducing thing, and he’s very awkward about it like he always has been. But it’s okay! Cause Sam has this! He’s got a plan and is determined to make it work, no matter what embarrassing moments he has to force himself to live through. Luckily, his most hated holiday is around the corner and will help… maybe. Okay, maybe Sam doesn’t have this. Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3 Title: To Hell And Back Author: jdl71 Artist: amberdreams Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Demon Deals, Demons, Hurt Dean, Determined Sam, Rape, Rape Recovery, Angst, Pain and Suffering, Violence, Blood, Torture, Death, Major Character Death, Resurrection, Hurt and Comfort, Nightmares, Wincest, Incest, Sibling Incest, Top Sam, Bottom Dean, Spells, Hell, Hellhounds Summary: Dean makes a demon deal, sacrificing himself to save Sam. Determined, Sam will do anything to bring his brother back from Hell so they can be together. Art: Ao3 Story: Ao3 Title: Your Mirror is Black Author: KillerofHope Artist: Alexiescherryslurpy Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: older Sam/younger Dean, top Sam/bottom Dean, pre series, light bdsm, underage Summary: Often, Sam and Dean only have each other when John leaves them alone. They don’t think about their strange, also sexual, relationship that much as long it’s fun. That changes when Sam decides to go to college. Art: Tumblr | Ao3 Story: Ao3 Title: Magic In My Bones Author: yohkobennington Artist: bluefire986 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: S2AU. Temporary Character death. Summary: Something keeps taking Dean, and Sam is at loss as to what and how to stop it. They soon discover things as aren't simple as they seem and secrets are revealed about them that turn their world upside down. Art: Live Journal | Ao3 Story: Ao3 Title: Lose This Number Author: lovetheirloves Artist: ncdover1285 Other Pairing: Temporary Offscreen Sam/Jess Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Season 2 (Special Children) Spoilers Summary: Fifteen years ago, in an act of unforgivable cowardice, Dean Winchester ran out on his brother Sam after their relationship turned sexual. He left behind the Impala, his amulet, and decade and a half of silence. Now, Dean wants to reconnect, but he’s not the only one looking for Sam. The yellow-eyed demon is still searching for his favorite “special child,” who now has a child of his own – a six-year-old daughter whose terrible headaches come with mysterious visions, just like her father’s. Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3 Title: The Red Taste of You On My Tongue Author: runedgirl Artist: midnightsilvers Rating: NC-17 Warning: Show level violence, Dub con, Addiction Summary: Sam is determined to cure Dean of being a demon, but Dean has his own ideas of how to turn the tables on his brother. Art: Ao3 Story: Live Journal | Ao3 Title: The Salt-Filled Skins of Ptolemaea Author: Maven Morozov Artist: BlindSwandive Other Pairing: minor Sam/Azazel Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Underage, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Blood Kink, Trans!Sam, some queerphobia & consensual misgendering, Gore, Cannibalism, Murder, discussions of periods & pregnancy, Dark!Wincest Summary: Sam has always felt like a freak in his body. As long as he can remember, his life has revolved around his brother–but as he begins to transition from a child to a teenager, he’s forced into a reckoning of his feelings for Dean, and a strange angel appearing in his dreams that calls itself Azazel. Art: Live Journal Story: Ao3 Title: The Viking's Alpha Author: outofnowhere82 Artist: bluefire986 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Alpha!Dean, omega!Sam, Alternate Universe - Vikings, hurt!Dean, Knotting, Mates, playing fast and loose with viking lore, Mild Gore, Minor Violence Summary: Sam is an omega and military leader of the clan. Dean is an alpha and his second. Ever since Sam’s birthday, they have had a run of bad luck during raids (injuries, not any loot, death) and his warriors are saying that Freya is displeased that he hasn’t found love yet. He has, but it’s Dean and doesn’t want to confront his feelings. When Dean almost dies, Sam decides it’s time to mate and tell Dean of his decision. Art: Live Journal | Ao3 Story: Ao3 Title: I Don't Smoke Author: distortionofself Artist: ncdover1285 Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Vague implication of weecest, cigarette use, bottom Sam/top Dean Summary: After John's death, Dean blames himself, puts up walls, and barricades himself from love. Sam tears every single one down. Art: Tumblr Story: Ao3 Title: It’s You and Me Forever Author: blackrose_17 Artist: emmatheslayer Rating: NC-17 Warnings/Spoilers: Mpreg, bottom Sam and top Dean Summary: Dean wasn't about to let Sam spend his entirety trapped in the cage with Lucifer if Sam goes then so does he and that changes everything because Heaven and Hell's plans never counted on the bond between them. Making Sam and Dean soulmates would undo all of Heaven and Hell's plans and puts Sam on the throne of Hell and Dean as his Knight. Art: Dream Width Story: Ao3

[sixthwater]

Welcome to yet another clash of fiction and astrology! Today we are exploring Netflix's adaption of Neil Gaiman's "The Sandman", and seeing how a few characters beautifully display the core characteristics of certain houses in astrology.

The connections we will be diving into are:

Dream — Eighth House The Corinthian — Tenth House Lucienne — Sixth House Death — Seventh House

Would you care to sit down while I explain?

Dream

I know that this is a weird association considering he is the master of our dreams, and that immediately goes to the twelfth. However, Dream stresses a lot about how he and the human race are connected on a more sensitive scale — which yes!! Is still very much a twelfth house  thing! It's just that the way he talks about it is always transactional and intimate.

Humans provide the emotions, anxieties, goals — the spectrum if you will, for Dream. In return, Dream provides the appropriate 'realm' that they'll receive that night depending on whatever message they need to receive or if they just need a momentary escape. Transactional. It also immediately goes out of balance the second he’s caught and his items are stolen. People stop dreaming and basically go into a comatose state. If he can’t hold up his end of the deal and ensure things are okay, then things fall apart. Which is not necessarily a twelfth house thing. On a much lesser note, there was the whole thing with him having to go through trials and missions and basically rediscover himself all over again to get his tools back which just stinks of eighth house themes. (Which, as a side note, I guess you can place everyone just passing his stuff around as an inheritance?? Right we can place that under inheri)

He also directly deals with death, despite not handling that sector of life. Hell he even got kidnapped in their place. Despite that he witnessed his raven being murdered in front of him and his captor ended up dying from a fatal wound thanks to a blow caused by the very bubble he was bound to. A mortal ended up dying from one of his tools as well. Just to be sensitive, I won’t place any of those examples here, but he’s not very new to those matters.

Speaking of which, his captivity did make many negative feelings bubble to the surface. While Dream is not new to these intense emotions, he is used to controlling them due to his service and how it can cause harm to the dream world. It did paint his view of humans in a negative light for some time and he found it very difficult to ‘just move on from it’. What does the eighth house deal with? Those exact deep, murky, disgusting feelings or thoughts we’d rather not explore. It holds the part of our psyche that is begging to be looked at so we can come face to face with our flaws and embrace our shadow side as something to not lock away and hide, but to soothe and heal.

There’s also this very interesting scene that covers how deep the eighth house goes as well. It covers intimacy, deep emotional turmoil or investment. When things affect this house, it will either make, transform, or break you. We can see the combination of a deep grudge as well a devoted partnership play out (bonus points for it taking place in the underworld)

The eighth house is a very deep pool to dive into, but it should not be scary. You should be encourage to make a dive every once in a while to get used to what’s going on in your waters, to make sure you don’t have to undergo any major maintenance, and everything is working as it should be. Lest you break down at a time you really can’t afford to.

The Corinthian

This man drove me fucking crazy because I could NOT figure out�� which house he was it only took me seven episodes until they literally spelled it out for me

The tenth house is part of our reputation, and I find it hilarious that I'm writing this during an episode from a sitcom all about someone's reputation.  It's a mix of how you present and hold yourself within your career. It can also be around peers that only / mainly know you for your  achievements. It's the 'idea' of you that others hold and spread around to those that have even less of a perception of who you really are,  thus; the reputation is born.

It can also be the image that you prefer to present yourself as to  the public. A shield before people are let in and they get to know your sixth, seventh, eighth, and fourth house. A place to possibly represent the type of fans or followers you'll gain, and what influence you have over people or in that particular area.

There's more to the tenth though, because it's tied to our fourth house (not specifically talking about MC/IC). Our roots, ancestry,  family conditioning - all of that follows us and molds us subconsciously  into what we want to project or pursue for our career. Which you can see pretty damn well with The Corinthian whenever he interacts or talks about Dream

While Gault took a more passive and friendly approach to 'disobeying' orders and breaking free from what they were made to do, The Corinthian goes 100 mph into a brick wall essentially. Just to prove a point and flip off Dream. There are pretty obvious parallels to a sour relationship for him when he 'bonds' with Jed, even if it's manipulative and still rooted in getting underneath Dream's skin

You can see how much of an impact Dream has on him whether or not he wants to admit it, and that translates right back to the impact your fourth has on your tenth

It's an angle of influence and it gives you a metaphorical soapbox to direct other people who look up to you or see you as someone with wisdom, power, or experience

Remember, the tenth is an incredible angle in your chart. It’s a symbol of where you stand within your field, the quiet power you hold within you. Where you landed after your fourth sent you off. How you can lead others should they look up to you for guidance. There’s much to be tapped into when it comes to this house. There’s a reason why it’s considered an angle.

Lucienne

Ok I'm being objective for this entire post so I get to have my five minutes: this is my bitch right here and of course it is I'm a sixth stellium with a virgo mars leave me alone

Anyway the second they showed up and gave me this line, it was done. I mean I was open for a change of heart, but they were consistent as expected:

Speaks volumes and pretty much sums the sixth up. The steadfast loyalty despite not knowing if Dream would return wouldn't necessarily be tied to the sixth in particular, but from Dream's eyes it gives him a sense of stability and comfort. After going through everything he experienced and coming back to his kingdom in shambles along with 90% of his staff gone, he has one person who attempted to keep things together and was right there the second he returned. It's an idea that someone or something will always be consistent and you know it will be there for you no matter what. Not to an undying, intense level, but just...so you don't have to worry about it. That's the sixth. Also taking care of such a stressful, annoying and mundane thing as journaling every single thing that happened while he was away? Yeah.It's also associated with guidelines and following things correctly (at least loosely)

Gotta be able to clear your checklist off somehow.

There's also a display (at least attempts) of objectivity from Lucienne so they can follow their Lord and the rules placed within their Kingdom, and while Dream was gone, they still attempted to keep the world running so things could keep moving without much problem

Where would the world be without the workhorse that is the sixth house?

Death

If you're still here I'm sure these connections are annoying you but I have a case to make okay!

Death's entire episode (besides the obvious) was about ripping away the fearful aspect of it and showing it in a more 'softer' light. To a point where, at least in the Netflix adaptation, they're probably the most empathetic towards the human race

When looking at Death, you'd think of the eighth house first.  Rightfully so. However once they start talking about how we're connected  and we feed off of each other — they can't survive without humans and vice versa — it can start to sound like a mix of eighth and eleventh. However, Death can act extremely intimate and caring towards their profession and with others. They take extreme care when showing up for their 'appointments', and when discussing how they just 'have a job to  do', they mentioned that they've been here since the first living thing came to be and they'll be the last to go so they can tidy up:

"When the last living thing dies, I'll put the chairs on the table, turn out the lights and... lock the universe behind me when I leave."

This is what the seventh house is. It's gaining energy from the  other party during intimate conversations. Feeling like the other person  can understand parts of you better than you understand yourself at  times. It's a feeling of partnership with others through slowly merging your ego with others before trying to dance with the whole world all at  once. It's you not liking pickles on your sandwiches so your partner takes them for you because they like pickles, so the perfect partnership  is made.

It's also where you can get help in discovering sides of yourself  that you haven't figured out yet, and a great source of personal frustration. The seventh can be parts of you that are so obvious, you  end up being blind to them. It's a side of you that you end up only  bringing out around people that you feel comfortable with. Parts of you that others will need to help make you aware of by mirroring that  energy. It is up to you if you want to make amends with that not-so-hidden side of yourself. Death sealed the deal with this house when they expressed their difficulty with their job in the beginning:

It's an air house, as well as a social one. It encourages growth  through interacting with others. It follows houses that want you to  build your ego so you can figure yourself out first before engaging with others. Once your roots are firmly planted, you can continue your  journey with the help of others to shine lights on things you might have missed, because we can't do everything alone.

Thank you for your time everyone! I hope you enjoyed this post! Honestly I wanted to include Fiddler's Green and other characters but sometimes they don't throw in enough dialogue or screen time for me to make a definitive case (like I definitely wanted to do Matthew, but I cannot argue for the house I claimed). Please let me know your thoughts below, did you also think Lightbringer's battle outfit was sexy because I did.

If you enjoyed this post, please give it a reblog and a like. Be sure to check out my pinned post as my paid readings (both tarot and astrology) are open, and I have more content like this to check out as well! You can also check me out on other social media or drop me a tip too!

[galionne-speeding]

Journey Through Hex (Chapter 1 - Unexpected Descent)

Title: Journey Through Hex

Chapter: 1 / 5

Characters: Zavok, Zazz, Zomom, Master Zik, Zeena, Zor

Pairing(s): Zavok/Zazz

Warning(s): None

Summary: Eggman may have left the Lost Hex but everything he brought with him was left behind, including a whole slew of aggressive Badniks. As the Deadly Six are left to deal with these remaining threats, Zavok and Zazz are unexpectedly sent tumbling down a ravine and have to find their way back home, all the while tending to their wounds, exploring Eggman's network of secret bases and fighting off bigger and badder robots. Good thing they can rely on each other…

Read on Ao3 or under the cut.

-----

Saying the Deadly Six weren't too fond of Doctor Eggman was an understatement, to be sure.

The man had tried to take over their turf for himself ; to turn Lost Hex into some kind of robot-manufacturing plant for his own empire. He had made them labor for him and do all of his dirty work. Reduced them to little more than his personal henchmen. And worse yet- he'd brought back a terrifying relic of the past that any Zeti who'd read their history books would pray remained lost to time: a Cacophonic Conch.

Even now that the madman was gone, the Zetis still had to deal with the crushing defeat dealt to them by that blue hedgehog who seemed to chase the doctor everywhere- or was it the doctor chasing the hedgehog?

Either way, Eggman wasn't very popular with the Deadly Six...

A sentiment that was especially strong now, as the group was currently locked in battle with one of his many robots.

"Watch the hammer! Don't get caught in the swing!" Zavok shouted to the rest of the Deadly Six.

Their adversary was an incredibly large model of Badnik ; bulky, purple, mean-tempered and wielding a frighteningly heavy hammer. The machine had showed up unannounced on one of the many cliffs surrounding Lava Mountain and immediately started rampaging, leaving the Zetis with no choice but to launch into an improvised attack. Several other robots had been cropping up in the past few days so this was no doubt another "gift" left behind  by the doctor after his impromptu departure...

The issue with this particular model however, was that it did not respond to the Zetis' natural ability to manipulate electromagnetic waves. It was completely EM-shielded, meaning they had no control over it ; and while the Deadly Six had dealt with other such machines before, they were typically much smaller and less dangerous models that could be taken care of in one blow. This one, on the other hand...

"Now I gotcha!"

Zazz leapt onto the Badnik's back and began viciously slashing at it, trying to tear through its outer casing. Unfortunately his claws only scraped against the steel with an unpleasant metallic grind, leaving only light scratches on the paint job. The machine briefly stopped in response before reaching one of its giant hands up and grabbing the pink Zeti.

"Ah shit-"

With one overhead swing of its arm it slammed Zazz into the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. The Zeti gasped and sputtered. He groaned and pushed himself up on his elbows but quickly found himself completely out of breath ; and as the ground trembled and the giant hammer swung towards him he felt his stomach drop.

"Oh no you don't!"

Thankfully, the fatal blow that would have turned Zazz into a pink Zeti pancake never came. Instead when the berserker opened his eyes he found Zomom standing between him and the Badnik, grabbing the head of the hammer with both hands and pushing it back with all his might. Zazz took it as his cue to bolt out of there as the bulkier Zeti put all his weight forwards, forcing the Badnik to step back.

"Now! Pull it!", Zavok yelled to him, all the while grabbing Zazz by the arm and pulling the berserker behind him.

Zomom quickly reached around the hammer and tightly wrapped his fingers around the handle. He turned and pulled as hard as he could, easily tearing the weapon from his opponent's grasp. The robot froze briefly, as if processing the situation.

"Aha! Not so tough now huh-?"

Unfortunately for Zomom, the powerful punch that cut him off and smashed square into his face was quick to prove him wrong. The behemoth stumbled back, head and ears rigging, and was barely able to dodge the next hit. The robot's fist grazed his temple and missed him by just a few millimeters. Zomom groaned and attempted to swing the hammer around, only for the Badnik to stop him by grabbing him by the wrist. It pulled the orange Zeti forwards with one hand, swung the other around and delivered an even more brutal punch to his face. This second hit was enough to send Zomom flying several meters back. He fell to the ground about as gracefully as a sack of bricks, as Zazz and Zavok had to jump out of the way to avoid getting crushed. The Badnik readjusted its posture and began slowly, menacingly making its way towards the fallen Zeti. Had it had the ability to show any kind of emotion it would have probably looked very, very angry...

Zavok was quick to jump into the machine's path however. Smoke escaped his maw in short, dark puffs- before a barrage of flames slammed full force into the robot. All of a sudden, the air itself was set ablaze. Metal sizzled and paint melted. The rest of the Deadly Six were forced to take a step back and shield themselves from the formidable heat, until Zavok finally stopped his assault to catch his breath. As he looked up however, the Zeti leader was shocked to find the robot still in one piece- with only a black, charred mark on its chest as proof of the attack.

Worse yet, the thing was not only still standing- it was still walking.

A small, blue sphere of energy bounced off the back of the Badnik's head, prompting it to turn around and briefly forget about Zavok and Zomom.

"This machine is far too sturdy, I doubt any of us could take it out by force.", Master Zik calmly stated to his student, "We can keep it distracted for now, but we need a different strategy."

The Badnik charged with a loud grinding noise but the elderly Zeti easily side-stepped it ; hopped onto its arm then its shoulder and head ; before running down along its back. As the robot turned around it was immediately kicked in the face by Zeena who then swiftly slipped between the machine's legs, as Zazz jumped onto its back again.

Zavok meanwhile was attempting to get Zomom back to his feet with the help of Zor and a few of the smaller Deadly Six's shadowy clones. But the larger Zeti was out like a light, completely knocked out...

Great.

Zavok shot the Badnik a glance- it was still being kept busy by the other members of the pack. And it seemed as though Master Zik was right- despite all the scratches, kicks, punches, occasional bites from Zazz and even an array of energy attacks it received, the machine did not show any signs of slowing its movement, much less stopping.

"If we cannot take it out by force, then..."

Zavok's gaze drifted over to the nearby cliff's edge.

"Zor."

"Hm?"

"Summon as many of your shadows as you can. We're changing the plan."

As he finished his sentence the Deadly Six leader bolted off towards the Badnik. He slammed into it with his shoulder, forcing it to stumble a few steps back.

"Drive it towards the edge of the cliff! Don't give it any breathing room!"

Zavok didn't need to explain his plan any further- the rest of his pack already knew. The kicks, punches and shoves doubled in violence and intensity. The Badnik beeped angrily, but its destructive programming was no match for the Zetis' combined ferocity. Little by little, step by step, the machine was steadily pushed back until Zavok turned back towards the shortest member of the Deadly Six.

"Now!"

The ground suddenly trembled. Zor's shadowy duplicates moved as one dark blob of hands and glowing eyes ; rising from the ground in a writhing black wave before crashing down onto the Badnik. They clung to its limbs, weighing it down, grasping at everything they could ; digging their nails into every little groove and nook. The charred metal creaked and cried loudly as it was steadily being bent back.

"Zazz! With me!"

With a powerful roar Zavok launched forwards and rammed his left shoulder into the machine's chest with such force he felt the metal sink and bend. Zazz mimicked him at the same time ; and their combined might was enough to make the Badnik stumbled back once more- one foot finding nothing but empty space to stand on. Zor's duplicates let go and dissipated into the wind. The robot slowly toppled backwards into the ravine, waving its arms around. Zavok turned to his pack with a triumphant smirk...

Only for it to be quickly wiped off his face as he felt a cold, tight grip on his tail.

The red Zeti was dragged back with incredible force. He reached out instinctively towards his pack members ; even feeling Zazz's fingers clasping around his ; nails digging into his skin.

"Boss!" The berserker cried out as he tried to hold him back.

But it was too late. Zavok could feel the ground giving way beneath him and knew there was no fighting gravity. He let go of Zazz's hand as he fell backwards- but to his surprise and confusion the pink zeti still grabbed onto his wrist in a desperate attempt to pull him back up.

"Zazz no-!!!"

Unfortunately both the Badnik's and Zazz's grips were too strong to be shaken off and all three plummeted into the ravine, as the other Zetis watched helplessly. Zazz's hold on his leader's wrist tightened. His eyes were wide and his face pale. Zavok weakly attempted to reach his other hand to him, as the wind whistled aggressively in his ears. They didn't have time to be nauseous from the fall. They didn't have time to see the ground coming. For just a split second they heard the sound of metal slamming into stone.

A terrible shock rattled through Zavok's body entire body. He didn't even have time to feel the wind being knocked out of him ; to see his vision turn a burning white or hear the high pitched buzzing in his own skull.

There was no time for anything as the world simply disappeared behind a thick curtain of black, taking every sound, every light and every feeling with it...

[streetslost]

CAT ON TRIAL

the first time ( mainverse applicable )

cat's first time being on trial is when she's fourteen. this is when she's caught and arrested after attacking her uncle, stabbing him, but luckily without any fatal blows ( looking back on it, she can't say if she purposefully tried to spare him or not... she wanted him dead, but if she had truly wanted that, she knows where to aim... so perhaps some part of her held back... and just wanted him to know even a fraction of the agony he put her through ). so an attempted murder charge dangles there. along with other charges that they could actually link to her from her time with the ring... so needless to say, the trials are rough. and don't look good for her. the possibility of being tried as an adult is even brought up due to the attack and the other known situations of assault she partook in. however, cat pulls out with a bit of luck and some of the more obvious facts... the abuse, the control, the clear signs of trauma and confusion. her lawyers, even though state assigned, actually have an idea of what they're doing, and deals are struck. cat is spared being tried as an adult but she's pretty much guaranteed juvenile detention with strong pressure for having good behavior and attending psychiatric sessions or else she can find herself looking at actual jail time when she's eighteen. her lawyers argued about her abuse, neglect, the control copper had over her... and they also got her to promise a bit of info about the ring for police. info that, ultimately, falls useless. she can't tell them much more about copper than most on the force already know or can guess... catching him and being able to pin him for the crimes are different than being aware of what he's done and that it's most likely him pulling the strings... and anyone else she rats out soon ends up dead by margie's betrayal. copper might not have been running a mafia, but there's a reason gangs don't go down easily. she could be a witness in the future, but she couldn't help them actually put a stop to him otherwise. all in all, this first round of trials are haunting. terrible memories, anger. stress from being locked up ( she can't pay bail and no one swoops in to do so ). they're debating her family ( her aunt and uncle aren't on record, her dad's in jail, her mother's dead, they won't really explain or tell her any of this so she still doesn't really know the truth- ), prying into her backstory, prying into the ring. a few play friendly to try and win her over, but the game of pretend angers and stresses her more. she just wants to get away, get out, get free... but she's caught. and when it's all over, she's in a ( "kid-friendly" ) prison. so, of course, she completely collapses while in juvie.

the second time ( homeward bound verse applicable )

the second time cat goes on trial is when margaret and amy and jon are trying to get her safe and adopted and in a home and basically save her... but she can't outrun everything. luckily... she could at least dodge most. her escape from juvie is the big thing that gets her roped back into being arrested. if she wants to get her life back in order, that sort of needs to be resolved... since her escape from juvie, very little of her other crimes are known about. so luckily the list of charges isn't long... and thanks to double jeopardy, she can't be tried again for everything that juvie was supposed to be her punishment for. with very good lawyers now at her disposal ( rich family can afford rich lawyers, after all ), less violent crime marking her as a target, and a few more sob stories under her belt to sell her being a victim... the second trial goes much easier. and she's given the lightest she perhaps could... probation and community service. of course, she's not allowed any mistakes, but the fact she isn't getting put behind bars is a very fortunate outcome... considering there's still blood on her hands amongst the other less aggressive things she's done... the law just doesn't know about it, and cat keeps a number of her sins quiet. it's still a rough time of memories and prying and stress, but by comparison this round is much quicker and easier.

[ungrateful-cyborg]

Recruitable NPC: The Advocate

In the style of the Dragon Age series.

Name: [Redacted]

Alternate Name or Alias? The Advocate

Race & Job: Duskwight Elezen, Dark Knight/Void Mage

Nickname: No.

Default Tarot Card: Three of Swords

Do they have the Echo? If so, how did they discover it? Not initially but obtains it after being called to the First to fight the Warrior of Light (first of the name)

How/where does the WoL meet them? Ishgard, in the Forgotten Knight post-completion of the Final Steps of Faith

How are they recruited into the Scions? Agrees to fight at their side in exchange of their help to fix himself

Romanceable? By male WoLs only

Where they are in the open world:

(As a Scion): At the Rising stone, always in armor but without his helmet [pre-6.0], then nowhere [end of 6.0 to end of 6.1], Radz-at-Han on his own [between 6.1 and 6.2] or with Zero [post-6.2, if you’ve done his last quest]

(As a NPC): Can be met outside the Tribunal of Ishgard, in the Forgotten Knight and more surprisingly in Ul’dah. All those meetings are seemingly random.

Default saying:

(As a Scion): “Yes?” [pre-5.3] “That Archon loaf is surprisingly satisfying to eat...” [post-5.3. By talking to Tataru, you’ll learn he actually tasted the result of her first attempt at making Archon Loaf] “...” The Knight is lost in thought and doesn’t seem to see you. [post-6.2]

(As a NPC): “You’re more than able to defend yourself without my help, Savior of Ishgard.”

What do they typically do off-screen? He’s either fighting for people, trying to find a solution to his void-problem and just working at his day job.

Things they Generally Approve of:

Adventure and exploration

Music and poetry

Gaelikittens

Crafting trades

Things they Generally Disapprove of:

The Church

Ishgardian nobility

Voidsents and those who make pacts with them

Honestly just power-hungry people in general

Are they in a Grand Company? Which one? No, but he was once a Temple Knight

Friends:

Within the Scions:

The WoL

Tataru

Urianger

Hoary Boulder

Coultenet Dailebaure

Outside the Scions:

His boss and mentor

Sidurgu

Sidequests: Recruiting quests: Look Into The Abyss (lvl 60)

If you pay sufficiently attention to your surroundings while fighting Nidhogg, you’ll notice a strange man looking at the fight for afar, yet close enough to intervene and save your life should the dragon be about to deal a fatal blow.

Once you return to Ishgard proper from said fight, you’ll see the same man upstairs in the Forgotten Knight with a quest for you. This specific quest doesn’t require much, just to talk to him and a few NPC to learn more about who he is. It gets you to realize that he’s actually quite well-known in the city as a fighter who’s saved many people from losing trials for heresy.

After you finish this quest, you can start another one right away. As you insist to get an explanation about his presence during the fight against Nidhogg, he offers you a deal: fight him until he’s satisfied and he’ll answer or leave him alone forever. The fight is mostly friendly, but you get to witness his connection to the void first-hand. Satisfied with your fight, he explains to you who—and what—he is and why he mostly stayed away rather than helped you against Nidhogg.

You can then start another quest that will, this time, lead to recruiting him for the Scion since he’s immune to primals’ influence. You’ll have to teleport to the Rising Stone and talk to your friends there to get their opinion before going back to Ishgard and making him a proper offer than he only accepts against two promises: that the Scions will help him and, should no solution be found to reverse his condition, that you’ll put an end to him when he’ll inevitably start showing signs that he’s losing control.

Echo quests start: Surprise surprise (lvl 80)

After you called on his soul to fight the Warrior of Light, The Advocate wakes up on the Source with a brand-new ability. Quite confused about it, he’s awaiting you at the Rising Stone to talk about what in the Seven Hells has happened. You then travel for a bit with him and help folks all over Eorzea as both of you are trying to figure out what triggers his Echo.

At the end of the last quest, you meet Y’shtola at the Rising Stone as you return and she makes a comment in passing about how his aether seems to have stabilized.

Newfound adventure: The Abyss Stares Back (lvl 90)

After he heard from Y’shtola about the portal leading to the Void, the Knight is awaiting you at the market in Radz-at-Han. It’s a simple enough quest where he accompanies you through the city until you meet with Varshan at the Meghaduta to speak about TA’s involvement in Vrtra’s search for his sister (making it optional).

Potential tarot card changes:

If accepted into the Scions: Six of Swords

If romanced by WoL: Ace of Cups

If not recruited/kept as an adventurer: Ten of Swords

Tagged by @ffxivtribehydrae​ & @bough-waker​ & @under-the-blood-moonlight​ (ty!!)

I’m terribly late on this so feel free to steal it if you want to do it!

[taylortaylormoon]

Some memories never leave. So, I rewrote part 1 instead of working on part 2 of chapter 1, but I think I'm getting somewhere good.

After taking what should have been a fatal blow, Zoro wakes up in an alternate universe in the body of his alternate self, where his two selves fight for control of the body - a child’s body.

(Aka Zoro is sent to an au, where he is younger and the adopted son of Mihawk (and, by extension, shanks) and has to deal with conflicting memories.

What happened? Where am I? These questions raced through Zoro’s mind as he regained consciousness, his breathing kicked into high gear, and his heart pounding. He shuts his eyes tight against the harsh light above him, which was shining down, making his already tender head start to ache right behind his eyes towards the back of his skull. With his eyes closed, Zoro had to rely on his other senses to seek out danger; he didn't remember much before losing consciousness, just that there was a fight against some unnamed pirate crew hoping to take on his bounty. How he lost the fight was uncertain, but he wasn’t tied up and still breathing, so Zoro must have made it out with his life, right?”

There was a movement to his right, causing Zoro to reach for a sword that was no longer there; panic built up in his chest but was quickly sated for some reason Zoro couldn’t place. Whoever it was was close to him, practically at his bedside, was not a threat but a welcomed presence.

“Good, you are awake,” Mhawk’s voice broke the silence; the man sounded relieved, raising a hand to rest atop Zoro’s head. The act itself was strange and out of character for the warlord; Zoro could count on one hand the number of times his mentor touched him without a blade. The slight hesitation paired with the familiarity of the gesture caused Zoro to pause, as well as the sensation of the contact; Mihawk’s hand felt as large as his head, the rough, calloused skin raking through his hair, which also felt longer than it should. Zoro winces when the hand touches a tender spot at the back of his head, one of the reasons for his miserable headache.

“Mi-what?” Zoro’s questions were interrupted by a series of harsh, almost violent coughs caused by his dry, itchy throat.

“Poor dear, here drink,” Mihawk says, holding the cup up to Zoro’s lips, acting as if the younger man could not hold the cup up himself.

Zoro had many questions running through his mind, trying to push through the haze and glaring blind spots in his memory of how he had gotten from where he was to where he was now, wherever that may be. The question at the forefront of his mind now is about Mihawk’s strange behavior. What had happened to make the feared warlord act this tender? During Zoro’s two-year training period, the Mihawk had only ever called Zoro by his last name, never any pet names. Being called ‘dear’ was almost enough to make him spit out the water, but it felt nice on his sore throat. So Zoro kept drinking. The angle at which Mihawk had the cup made it impossible to drink as fast as he wanted to.

That didn’t stop the younger swordsman from trying to gain control of the cup; his hands grasped the cup around Mihawk’s hand, brushing against each other. Another weird sensation that didn’t match was Zoro knew; the mug felt large, his hand barely covering the surface, and the rim touched the tip of his nose. Once Zoro was finished, the cup was pulled back and sat on a nearby wooded table.

While his throat felt better now, the pounding in his head hadn’t stopped. Zoro opened his eyes again, hoping that his sensitivity to light had passed, but it didn’t; the glaring overhead light seemed to stay where it was. A slight whine escaped Zoro’s notice when he shut his eyes for the second time, but it didn’t escape Mihawk’s.

“Is the light bothering you then?” Mihawk asked, and before Zoro could respond, the man was moving again, adjusting something metal off to the side of the bed. The room seemed darker now that the light shone in his eyes, so Zoro opened them. It took a moment to adjust: he could see fuzzy shapes and Mihawk’s figure standing nearby, but the finer details were now lost to him, temporarily.

Once his eyes adjusted, he could see the room he was in; it was likely primarily the Captain Quarters, given the size and layout; he was lying on a large bed occupying a section of the room, and his second instinct was right. He wasn’t on the Thousand Sunny or Kuraiganan island. He was on a ship. Not only was the location unfamiliar to him, but it was also strange as if it was made for a giant.

Zoro looks to his left, where he believes Mihawk to have been, and sure enough, sitting at his bedside watching him was the warlord. Only the last time they saw each other, Zoro had been the same height, if not a bit taller. Now, it looked like Mihawk had grown significantly, or more realistically, Zoro had shrunk to the size of a child.

Which doesn't make sense to him; however, at the same time it did, as if two competing senses of self were fighting for control and causing his headache to worsen into a full-blown migraine. Oneself told him he was not a child but a grown man, and he was Roronoa Zoro, a pirate hunter turned into a pirate's first mate. The other self told him he was a child named Dracule Zoro, the son of the world’s greatest swordsman.

Zoro tries to focus on these memories that aren’t but somehow are his; the pain behind his eyes feels sharp and excruciating, causing tears to swell in his eyes. But Zoro pushes past the pain, trying to think back to how he got injured, but his thoughts are too cluttered.

“Zoro?” Mihawk asked, placing a hand on Zoro’s shoulder, “Darling, you are crying. Does your head still hurt?”

Zoro could only nod his head, the pain making him unable to speak coherent words, only childish babble as he cried harder.

"Oh dear," Mihawk coos softly; he sweeps Zoro into his arms, pressing the boy to his chest and rocking him. Zoro is torn between wanting to fight out of the hold and wanting to bury himself further in Mihawk’s arms, seeking comfort for his pounding head. “Crying will only worsen it, my dear; you must calm down.”

Mihawk was right; Zoro's childish wailing only made his headache worse. Despite wanting to stop, Zoro found himself unable to hold back his tears. It felt cathartic to release his bottled-up emotions and frustrations, even if it meant worsening his headache. It was like a dam that had been building up over time, finally bursting open.

“How’s,’ A new voice startled Zoro,

[onlycleverinmyhead]

Tim drake: Robin #6

It was bad.

-They brought back the old art style, and it’s just- not good. Fight scenes feel confusing and ‘too loud’ somehow, backgrounds look good but the characters look really bad (except for Cass) especially Tim and Bernard. To me, the art honestly brings the whole issue down.

- Tim's character seems to only have two main themes: 1) he wanted to be batman, but not anymore- which is just completely untrue, Tim decided he didn’t want to be batman during his robin days, his problem is not letting go of the robin mantle. His ‘red robin’ identity signified a slight departure from ‘Robin’ but dc main canon is set on Tim being robin again (this isn’t new info for anyone, I’m just complaining)

2) he has now ‘found himself’ (he’s talking about his sexuality) but he still doesn’t know who he is exactly- hopefully that last part is a setup for a new identity.  Tim’s coming out arc was about his identity crisis, and he talked about finally being himself in the beginning of TD:R and also the pride special I think, so him repeating that thread over and over is exhausting. there are more things you can do with a queer character besides having him say he’s queer. have some secret ID shenanigans with Tim and Bernard- who is literally a batman conspiracy theorist. have Tim grapple with the hardship of having a civilian bf, that he has to lie to and put in danger. Have Tim meet another old guy friend (Danny temple) and work a case with him (Danny temple with his cobra gear please) only to realize he used to be attracted to him and than he has two love interests at the same time (not uncommon for Tim).

-Things I liked: 1)Tim had one interesting character moment where he admitted to liking puzzles because solving them makes him feel in control and he likes being in control.

2) Moriarty lowkey flirting with Tim in the beginning “will you make me the happiest nemesis in Gotham?” (it’s fun when bad guys are obsessed with Tim I will die on this hill)

3) Tim dealing Moriarty a fatal blow but Tim(+ the entire narrative) is pretending he didn’t just kill him and we are shown he’s alive somehow but he really shouldn’t be. And Tim says “I have a feeling we’ll see him soon” like sweetheart, you made him explode

4)Tim and Bernard kissed in his own title this time.

-Overall this entire issue felt like nothing