#don't try to tell me otherwise

[emin-folly]

Yeah I'm sorry but I seriously don't buy the whole "Batman can sneak up on Kryptonians and other superpowered aliens/people cause he's ~Batman~" BS

Personally what I think would be much more in character and frankly way funnier is if just about every superhero can see/detect Batman, they all just choose to humor him cause of his fragile ego lmao 

 Low effort comic cause I tired aha

[strangepuppywerewolf]

Good Mama (E.W)

Basically modern!Ellie with a breeding kink who wishes so bad that she could knock you up and see you all round and swollen with a baby that she put into you.

Honestly, I don't care if minors interact with my post. It's a piece of writing, not a porn video.

CW: Brief!Sub!Ellie, Oral E!receiving, Fingering R!receiving, Strap-on sex R!receiving, Clitoral stimulation both E!receiving and R!receiving, and Implied breeding kink. Ellie has pubic hair, fight me.

Word count: 1.1k

Ellie was frustrated and admittedly, exhausted. Work hadn't gone the way she wanted and all she wanted now was to see you, her pretty little girlfriend. She huffs as she walks through the door she can't help but feel her heart swell at the sight of you sitting on the couch with a cup of tea and the dog Moose with his head on your lap.

"Hey, baby." Ellie rasps kissing your forehead as she plops down next to you slinging her arm around your shoulder and planting a kiss on your forehead.

"Hey, Els." You sigh snuggling into her still petting Moose. "How was work?" You ask and Ellie grumbles something under her breath before responding by holding you closer.

"Pretty shitty. The guys don't know how to fix a fuckin' bicycle let alone a car." She grunts. You nod in acknowledgment and spin around to straddle her lap.

"M'sorry you had a bad day Els. Anything I can do to make it even a bit better?" You mumble kissing along her jawline. She lets out a content sigh placing her hands on your hips rocking you into her.

"Shit baby. Gonna rile me up." She groans grabbing your chin and lifting your head to give her access to your neck. Moose huffs and barks hopping off the couch onto his own bed.

"Wanna make you feel good Els..." You say sliding off her lap and kneeling down in between her thighs, looking up at her for permission.

"Go ahead pretty baby. Make me feel good." She groans as you slip off her jeans, followed by her boxers. She leans back on the couch and looks down at you running her fingers through your hair. You look up at her while kissing her inner thighs and using your fingers to spread her labia, looking at her clit that slowly started to emerge from its hood. Leaning forward you stick your tongue out flicking it over her clit, making her jolt.

You feel her pubic hair brush up against your nose. Ellie groans as she grabs your hair pulling you closer into her cunt. "Fuck baby, eat it like you mean it." She grunts as you hum into her pussy feeling her rock her hips against your face. You use your thumbs to spread her pussy lips even more and wrap your lips around her clit sucking on it. "Oh shit! Such a good girl, fuck!"

You moan at the praise, the reason you weren't using your fingers was because Ellie didn't enjoy being penetrated. "I'm gonna cum baby..." Ellie groans before letting out a high-pitched whine releasing her juices onto your waiting tongue. You give her clit a few last teasing licks before she grabs your hair pulling you up into a kiss shoving her tongue into your mouth tasting herself on your tongue.

"Was that good, Els?" You pant, still catching your breath. Ellie looks at you with her signature goofy grin and pulls you by your wrist pinning you onto the couch.

"Was so good mama..." She husks into your ear slipping her hand into your underwear and kissing the side of your neck. "Gonna fuck you so good tonight...Hell, if I try hard enough I bet I could knock you up..." She grunts running her fingers along your wet slit, making you gasp and nod vigorously.

"Please, Els...Want your baby..." You gasp as she slips two of her long fingers inside your desperate cunt, slowly pumping them in and out.

"I'm gonna give you the big strap tonight...Gotta make sure you're nice and full." She whispers biting at your ear, moving her fingers a little harder inside you before slipping them out, making you whine desperately. "Shh...Gotta get these cute clothes off of ya." She says tugging down your pants and undies, and your shirt and bra following afterward. Looking down at your now naked body, Ellie moans at the sight.

"Stop...Staring..." You say slightly embarrassed. Ellie smiles reassuring you of how absolutely stunning you are, before plunging her fingers back inside your wet heat making you arch your back and let out a strangled moan.

"Most fucking gorgeous girl I've ever laid eyes on." She growls biting at your collarbone, before crooking her fingers up right into that sweet little pleasure spot. "There she is..." She mumbles referring to your g-spot. As you spasm and moan you could feel the palm of her hand slapping up against your clit.

"E-Ellie you feel so good..!" You cry out as she continues to pleasure you. Feeling that knot tighten in your stomach you pull Ellie into a kiss moaning into her mouth as you feel yourself fall apart on her fingers. She pumps them a few more times making you jolt before slipping them out of you and licking your slick off of her fingers.

"We're not done, baby. You up for another one?" She coos holding your face. You nod eagerly before she helps you off the couch and leads you to the bedroom. As soon as you're situated she goes to the closet pulling out the largest strap she owned and securing it onto her waist. She then climbs on top of you before pulling you into a loving kiss.

"Ready baby?" She asks, rubbing the tip of the silicon dildo up against your entrance. As you nod, she smiles softly pushing the faux cock into your awaiting entrance making you moan lowly.

"Ellie...S-So full..." You moan as she starts slowly moving her hips.

"I know pretty girl. But it's gonna feel so good once I pump a baby into you." She purrs moving her hips a little faster and harder. Hearing your moans clicks a switch inside of her as she grips your hips slamming into you making you yelp in pleasure. She presses her face into your neck as she fucks into you smelling your sweet scent and biting into the crook of your neck.

Her hand slithers down to rub at your little nub of nerves making you cry out in pleasure. She groans as she feels the end of the strap hitting her own clit, fueled by lust she whispers dirty words into your ear making you whimper shyly.

"E-Ellie I'm gonna cum..." You whimper making her smirk into your neck.

"Cum for me pretty girl, I'm close too." She grunts giving a few last hard thrusts causing you both to cum. She pulls the strap out and takes it off before cuddling up next to you and running her fingers through your hair. "I love you, pretty girl." She whispers holding you close.

A/N: So there's a hint in one of the paragraphs hinting at my next work! Hint: It's in paragraph 21. Guess in the comments what next!

[mysillyside]

The way I completely lose all interest in Lawlight as a ship if Light isn't Kira. And frankly, I feel like L would agree with me on this one. I don't think he'd gaf abt Light in the slightest if Light wasn't Mr. Serial Killer.

[nat-ter]

Bruce had never met Superman face to face but he still hated the alien and thought of him as a threat and he was convinced his boys did too— except his kids are traitors. They each met Superman individually and found him really friendly and nice. At first, they were all hiding the fact that they were friends with Superman from each other, and especially from Bruce. So while Bruce was obsessed with coming up with contingency plan after contingency plan to take down Superman— even though he didn't try to kill the alien yet since Superman was still doing good for the people and Bruce couldn't just attack someone who hadn't done any wrong yet— the kids were making excuses to go meet Superman in secret and Bruce just went on oblivious to the fact that his kids are backstabbing demons.

Of course they lied to Superman too, about Batman's opinions of the Man of Steel, and the various plans he had made to kill said man. They always came up with reason after reason why Superman shouldn't or couldn't meet Batman, sometimes it's getting so ridiculous they were sure even Superman would call their buff. But sweet, ol' Kal never did.

Eventually, they found out that none of them held a grudge against Superman like Batman did, so they all teamed up together and cover for each other whenever one of them spend time with Superman, or cover the fact that Superman came to Gotham one too many time than he should. And it was the one thing that all of them could work together on without fighting or insulting each other. At one point, to keep their secret friendship with Superman, Dick even went so far to wear Batman's costume and meet Superman as Batman because Superman had wanted to meet Batman really bad and they were running dry on why Batman couldn't make time to meet the neighboring hero, and it wasn't like they could just ask Bruce to meet him considering the large collection of Kryptonite in the Cave. And they didn't exactly want their mentor to find out they had went behind his back and formed a friendship with who he swore was his mortal enemy (B's dramatic like that).

They tried to broach the subject of partnership with Superman to Bruce once in a while, of course, but every single time they were either shot down immediately and called ridiculous for even thinking about it or they had to sit through a dramatic monologue about how Superman couldn't be trusted and why they should stay away from him.

But Superman could fly and had superspeed so of course they couldn't stop him if he were to randomly come to Gotham and speak with Batman as if they were friends. Which was what exactly happened. Dick, as Batman, had warned Superman to never, ever come to Gotham without prior notice and to make sure no one notice his presence while he was in the city ("but you can totally see my kids. I'm cool with that." "Oh? Thanks, Batman. But... you know you sound younger than I thought you would." "Uh... yeah, I. Ehem. I'm very in touch with the modern lingo."), and Superman had readily agreed citing about respecting each other's boundaries and all, so the kids thought they were in the clear. But of course, there would be an emergency when even Superman wouldn't have the time to page first before coming right into Batman's turf and ask for his help.

So on a relatively quiet night, Batman was perching on a gargoyle while the newest Robin was scouting out the alleyways for any trouble. And Superman decided to touch down on the roof behind the crouching Batman and said, as if they had met before, as if they were close friends who hang out every once in a while, "Good evening, Batman. It's nice to see you again. Sorry I couldn't page first, and I hope you're not too busy because I have an emergency and I could really use your help."

Batman had gone rigid in a second and through gritted teeth, said, "Superman."

Upon hearing the name through the comm, Damian panicked and immediately sent out an emergency alert to his brothers before grappling to the building where sweet, clueless Superman with his sweet heart was facing the big bad Bat of Gotham who had been stockpiling on kryptonite for years, waiting for the day he would fight Superman. Which was the first mistake.

Because of course Superman, friendly Superman, with heart the size of the Sun, immediately recognised Robin. And of course, clueless Superman with his dumb, harmless 1000 megawatt smile was waving at Robin as if they were friends, as if they knew each other, as if Robin didn't hear Bruce grumbling about each piece written about the good deeds the Superman did every other day.

The others arrived at the scene faster than they would have at any night. Panic stricken and scared shitless of Bruce's wrath. And of course Superman immediately greeted them as soon as they got there.

Batman had merely narrowed his eyes when Superman had waved at Robin, and barked, sharper than he had before, "What the hell are you doing in my city?"

Superman looked taken aback but he was quick to recover. Seems like whatever emergency he got was more prominent than figuring out why his sort-of-not-really-friend was behaving weirdly. "Like I said, I have an emergency and I could really use your help, Batman."

Batman scoffed but with the voice modulator it sounded garbled and hard for the ears. "And what makes you think I would help you?"

Superman blinked. "What do you mean— Why wouldn't you help me?"

"First you encroach into my city without even asking for permission, talking to me as if we are— friends. And then you ask for my help as if I would just drop everything on my plate and follow you. Who do you think—"

But Batman's rant was cut off by the arrival of the other three heroes who stood at the edge of the roof, looking sheepish and guilty, breathing heavily in the quiet night. Superman looked at them, bewildered and surprised to see all the Batfamily in one place but smiling wide nonetheless because he was happy to see his little friends together. It had always been two kids or one. Never three, never all of them and certainly not with Batman in the mix.

"Oh, hey, Red Robin, Nightwing and Red Hood...?" Superman waved awkwardly by the end of his greetings, looking unsure. "Sorry," he said and actually curled in on himself a little as if he's self-conscious. "Are you guys on a big case? I didn't hear anything so I thought you weren't busy. I guess I could try to contact Wonder Woman if you have your hands full."

Superman turned to Batman but Batman was slowly turning his head towards where his kids stood at the edge of the roof. He was eerily silent and motionless making the kids take a step back nervously. Superman watched the scene with a frown, pulling his eyebrows together so tightly they almost meet in the middle. He was starting to detect that something wasn't quite right.

"Explain." Batman barked.

And Superman's face scrunched up even further. Clearly the man was deep in thought. "You know," he said slowly before none of the kids could speak. "Batman. You sound really different than the last time we met. Or any other time, actually. It's as if you're..." he trailed off, staring at Batman's feet, lost in his thoughts again.

"What." Batman shifted slightly. "We've never met before."

"Oh," Superman breathed out, his face going slack. He turned to Nightwing and the young hero immediately stood up straighter. "It was you."

Batman's head snapped towards where Dick was standing with his hands literally clasped behind his back like a soldier. "Nightwing," growled Batman. "Explain."

"Uhh..." said Dick eloquently.

"Red Robin." Bruce barked when Dick fell into silence, unable to come up with a plausible excuse, or to tell the truth.

"Err..." said Tim, swaying a little on his feet. He hadn't had enough sleep or coffee in him to live through the situation.

Batman did not sigh but Bruce Wayne did. A lot. And the kids had a knack of bringing out the dad side in him so Batman sighed through the voice modulator before he could think better. He had always suspected that his kids were up to something but he was so consumed with the thought of the alien— who was now standing in front of him with the world's greatest kicked puppy eyes in the world for some reason— he had stupidly thought whatever shenanigans his sons were up to, he would be able to deal with it later. Of course, he had never thought that his kids were dirty, backstabbing demons.

"Father," Damian finally said, but only because Jason had been signing at him to do so, telling him to use his puppy eyes since it still seemed to work on Bruce. "This is a misunderstanding."

But apparently they were dealing with the full Bat tonight, despite the involuntary sigh, because Batman did not slumped down his shoulders like he always did when Damian turn on his pleading eyes, instead he stood up straight as ever and met Damian's eye straight on. Jason was sure he could hear thunderstorm coming their way.

"A misunderstanding." He repeated flatly.

"Yes." Dick quickly said and Jason gave him a side eye. Dude, he thought, I just convinced the demon child to throw himself under the bus, why are you still talking.

"How is this a misunderstanding." His tone was so flat it didn't even come out as a question.

"I don't understand," Superman said instead, before anyone could reply Batman. He turned to the kids, his face set in disappointment so similar to Bruce's the kids actually flinched back. "You told me Batman was okay with me hanging out with you guys... And he told me— Oh. Nightwing. Right."

Batman's shoulders went impossibly more rigid. "You have been... hanging out."

"Err," said Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin simultaneously. Jason wisely kept his mouth shut. But Bruce's eyes still landed on him. Jason groaned in his head. So much for staying undetected.

"Red Hood," Bruce said slowly, very pointedly. "I thought you hate Superman."

"Yeah, well." Jason shrugged with nonchalance he didn't feel. "Turns out, he's a pretty great guy. So, kudos to him. Yay...?"

"You hated me?" Superman asked, looking dejected. Like someone kicked his dog and Jason knew he had a dog so the expression was even more daunting. And Jason wasn't having any of it, okay. Kal-El had literally given Red Hood his Ma's secret recipe for the perfect cinnamon roll. Which tasted like heaven (sorry Alfred). They had a bond, okay. No way he would let Superman see him as some cynical asshole. No way.

"Not fucking fair. It was the old man who went on and on about how you can't be trusted while making weapons to kill you. So, in my defense, it was hard to like you when all your flaws and possible weaknesses are pointed out in an alphabetical order." He threw a quick glance at the old man he just threw under the bus. Bruce looked unimpressed as ever. "But that was before I met you and found out that you're actually a chill dude. With a mother who's, like, the God of Baking."

"Superman doesn't have a mother!" Batman, honest to god, spluttered.

"Yes, he does." The young heroes said in unison.

"His world is dead. His parents are dead." Batman needlessly emphasised the word 'dead', for which he got four pairs of unimpressed eyes.

"B, have you ever heard of adoption." Dick said, emphasising the last word just to spite Bruce. Because of course Bruce did, if not, three of them wouldn't be there.

"You have Earth parents!" Batman exclaimed quite unlike himself, pointing a finger at Superman as if that's an accusation.

"You want to kill me." Kal whispered, his puppy eyes back on full effect.

Batman shifted uncomfortably. It was one thing to plan ways to kill someone, even if they're alien, it's completely different when said someone you wanted to kill was confronting you about the very thing.

"Yes." Damian reaffirmed. Ever the literal. "Father has been producing a variety of weapons to weaken you, hurt you and eventually kill you with the material called Kryptonite."

"Robin." Tim hissed.

Damian was still a growing child, emotionally and physically. But even he knew that when his any of his brothers said his name like that, it meant he had crossed a line he shouldn't have without realising he did.

"But you have nothing to worry about, Kal." Damian quickly amended. "Should father try to use these weapons under unwarranted circumstances, he will find the stock empty. We have contingency plans for father's contingencies—"

"Damian." It was Dick this time, who quickly moved and put a hand over Robin's mouth. He didn't even realise his mistake, not any of them did, actually.

"What." Batman said. Mostly confused. He couldn't even find it in himself to be furious at the moment. He was just flummoxed.

"Oh. Uh." Superman stammered. "Thank you? That's really nice of you."

An awkward silence befall the rooftop as each hero stood awkwardly where they were, barely breathing, motionless, not knowing what action to take next. Eventually Batman shifted an inch.

Oh no, thought the boys, he's going to go on another rant.

"You went behind my back," Batman started with a dark voice. "I warned you about the danger and you dismissed it. You went and made an alliance with my enemy." Here, Superman let out a protesting noise which could also he offended because, really? Enemy? Batman ignored it. "Not only that, you made plans to go against me. Instead of talking to me, you decided to oppose me. I have trained you and taught you everything you need to know. I take care of you and make sure to meet each of your needs. And this is what I get in return. Betrayal. You did not listen to me and—"

But he was cut off by a sardonic voice. "Master Wayne," said a voice from the batcomm each Bat was wearing, and Superman with his superhearing could hear it loud and clear too. "Considering your history of doing what you were told not to do, are you sure that you should be giving this speech?"

"Alfred," Batman said, sounding almost petulant.

"It is your fault, afterall, that you did not seek out Superman first before deciding who he is and what he is like. It is a good thing, if I may be so bold to say, that the kids see past the mask and befriend Superman in spite of what you have to say about him." Batman looked at Superman who was standing there awkwardly, staring at Batman. Bruce sneered, unable to help himself.

"Quit that," Alfred admonished. Bruce immediately dropped it. Superman blinked. "Now, Master Bruce. I agree that Master Dick, Master Jason, Master Tim and Master Damian should have come forward with their established friendship with Superman but considering your opinion on him, I believe it is understandable that they hesitated to do so." The aforementioned young boys nodded their head at Bruce. "That is not to say, however, that their behaviour shall go unpunish." Now they were groaning and Bruce had a little smile of triumph. "Perhaps, a few days off petrol and reflecting on our behaviours would do us some good. Including you, Master Bruce." Bruce immediately dropped his smile. Why him, too? Alfred answered right away. "I believe you realise now that you have been acting brashly the past few years. Now, we know that Superman is not as aloof and alien as we had previously thought. He is more earthbound than we believed him to be. If he were to go, he will have someone to miss him."

The kids nodded again. Superman just stared at Bruce with wide eyes and an expression Bruce couldn't put together. Whatever, Bruce had no time to care about him. He turned slightly away to whisper to the comm.

"But Alfred—"

"None of that now. I suggest you send the young lads home and we put this discussion off for the future."

In the ensuing silence, Superman softly breathed out: "Wayne."

Batman immediately went rigid, and so did the other young vigilantes. How the hell—

"Bruce... Wayne...?" Superman searched Batman's covered face as if he was trying to see if he was actually coming to a concrete conclusion.

"Oh," Alfred said, surprised and guilty. "The supersenses have slipped my mind. My apologies, Master Bruce."

For the first time in his life, Bruce didn't know what to do. Of course his immediate response should be deflection. But how could you lie to Superman about the very thing he just heard. The kids didn't seem to know what else to do either.

"Perhaps, you should ask Superman to come over for tea if his emergency is not an emergency anymore and we could talk about this in a more secure place." Alfred smoothly continued. No point in lying now. Superman had heard what he had heard and it was unlikely that he could be convinced that his superhearing was faulty.

Superman blinked a few times as if to clear his thoughts before he cleared his throat. "Yes, uhm. I was going to ask Batman to help me take a look at some data about a shipment from Gotham to Metropolis that was to happen tonight. I have reasons to believe that Luthor is involved and when Luthor is involved—"

"Kryptonite is involved." Bruce finished it for him.

Superman looked at him, seemingly a bit surprised. "Erm, yes. That. But I think it has already happened so... I'd have to follow it up tomorrow. So. Uh. I have... time?"

Batman narrowed his eyes and stayed silent.

"Bruce." Alfred said.

"C'mon B," Dick piped up. "The worst has already happened."

"I concur, Father. Kal-El now knows who you are, it is only best that the matter of discretion be properly discussed." Damian nodded sagely.

"The fuck, old man, are you still contemplating this?" Jason raised his arms in disbelief. He's so done with this family.

"Language, Master Jason."

"Uhh..." Tim swayed on his feet.

Batman sighed again. Dammit. Instead of showing his discomfort, however, he growled out a mean, "Fine." And then he grappled towards where he parked the Batmobile. Those brats could find their own way home and Superman? He could fly anyway.

Turned out, Superman could fly with four more passengers and Red Robin's bike that the kids used to get to that building. Although Bruce later gave Kal a piece of his mind about safety and the standard amount of people Superman should carry during flight without putting anyone in danger.

[rosepompadour]

In 1558, however, the miracle happened. On Monday, 28 November, to the cheers of the London crowd and the roar of the Tower artillery, Elizabeth came through the gates to take possession of the fortress as queen - Elizabeth, the bastardized daughter of the disgraced Anne Boleyn, with her father’s complexion but her mother’s face. Is it fanciful to feel that after twenty years, the mother in the nearby grave in the chapel of St Peter was at last vindicated? - ERIC IVES

[aquanutart]

When she was a little Kiko, Lulu loved to put on ribbons and appear before the world to show her precious Slorg! Sadly her owner was such a recluse that nobody noticed much, and over the years she forgot performing for others...

Until recently she found all the ribbons she saved over the years and wanted to have fun again!

(She didn't know which ribbon to wear, so she is wearing them all!)

(Lulu won a trophy!!! She is absolutely delighted and is using it to store her ribbons!)

[freelanceexorcist]

Maybe the confrontation between adult Sephiroth and Glenn isn't really a confrontation. Maybe an epic battle is just how SOLDIERs and ex-SOLDIERs just say hello.

Like, the battle will end in a draw and they'll hug it out.

"It's been a minute, Uncle Glenn."

"Yeah. It has, boychik. Bring it in, kiddo."

[travelerstakes]

Early thoughts from reading TLT wrong

so, I've finally gotten around to reading The Locked Tomb books, and the first one was on a five weeks wait at my library.

The second one was entirely ready to check out.

Now, was my decision to read the famously confusing Harrow The Ninth with no context but osmosis and the first couple chapters of book one as context a good idea? Absolutely not, I've probably got a million wrong guesses about what's going on. But is it interesting? Why, yes it is.

See, I've basically never felt *lost.* There's always enough information around about the literal mechanics of the setting to more or less vibes through the terms.

And that's got me thinking about exposition. Like, it's genuinely amazing how far you can get with praxis and people figuring out extensions from what they already know. Brain tired, but I might have to play with that later...

[commsroom]

i honestly do feel that eiffel's disrespect for authority and willingness to complain are positive traits. in terms of 'these are things i value in real people', but also for what it represents and what he's resisting within the narrative of wolf 359.

it's notable in the face of cutter's personal philosophy and goddard's corporate culture (pryce & carter #5, etc.) ... eiffel won't just accept anything, he won't do his job with a smile (he might not do his job at all, but either way, he reserves the right to be upset about it), he won't learn to compartmentalize. he will complain. he will keep on complaining. he values emotional honesty, and actively encourages others to express their feelings, especially the ones that aren't goddard-approved.

no matter what happens, or how long they've been up there, he never gets desensitized, and i think there's really something about someone who will keep saying 'this isn't normal, it isn't okay, i'm not okay with it, and i ask you to also not be okay with it,' even when he seems alone in saying it. their situation is horrible, and he feels everything so strongly. being able to express that is healthy, and it's human. i find it reassuring.

[spacedace]

Here, have a snippet of the Jason & Steph sibling bonding portion of the DP x DC AU I wrote 10k words for since last night in a haze of post sickness/burnout creative burst, featuring some Anger Management because of course it does lol

(I call it a snippet but it’s like...3k words lol)

Trigger Warnings because most of this snippet focuses on them running around Crime Alley and shit that goes down in it: references to drugs, overdoses, domestic abuse, child endangerment (if I miss anything let me know and I’ll add it). Nothing expliciet or details but they are things mentioned as happening because, well, Crime Alley.

-

Spoiler shifts subtly from foot to foot on the rooftop, hands open and ready at her side as she split her attention from watching him and checking the street below for signs of trouble. Her gaze was sharp on the girls working the corner, tracking for any hint that the man talking them up was making any of them uncomfortable even as she made sure Jason didn’t suddenly dart across the ten feet between them to strike out at her.

“George Conrad.” He said, satisfied that his sudden breaking of the silence didn’t make her jump though did catch her attention fully, fingers twitching warningly towards her belt. He nodded his head down to the street and the large man rummaging through the bag he brought with him. More of the girls had huddled up around him. “Not a john. Not even from Gotham.” He explained, shifting to walk over to the edge of the roof, giving her his back as he did. “His son Kyle ran away from home while George was oversees and ended up working the streets. George tracked him down once he was back in the states a few years ago but by the time he made it here Kyle had been killed.”

She moved to join him at the ledge, still leaving space between them but not enough for his guns to be as effective. Smart, vigilant, but still with a soft enough heart to stop and listen to one of the many tragedies that played out in Gotham’s darkest streets.

“What happened?” She asked, eyes softening on the big man in question as he started handing out ziploc bags. Jason knew very well what they held, and wondered if Spoiler could make out the finer details from the distance they were at. Sandwiches, granola bars, water bottles, condoms, clean needles, wet-wipes, little travel sewing kits, over the counter pain meds. Anything and everything George had ever been told would be appreciated or useful by the sex workers he spoke to.

“Overdose.” Jason answered, grateful that the distorter built into his helmet disguised the tightness of his voice. Memories of a cold body on the floor, stiff and waxy with distant glassy eyes. “Got mixed up with the wrong person. Boyfriend. Not a big player but,” He shrugged and knew that Spoiler would understand. It was how a lot of people got mixed up in sex work when they wouldn’t have normally. Boyfriend that promised the world, the painful fall into being pressured to sleep with said boyfriend’s friend, then another, then another. “One of Daisy’s boys was a neighbor and figured out what was going on, Daisy helped get him out but it was too late by then.”

Below one of the girls, younger than the rest - an adult, because he wouldn’t allow anything else in his territory, but still new to the scene - surged forward to wrap her arms around the old man. George gave her a gentle pat on the back, pushing her back gentle to dig out a card from his pocket. A list of numbers for her to call, shelters and organizations that could help, his own number in case she ever needed anything. “They chipped in for a funeral for him. Gave George somewhere to go and mourn. He’s been here ever since, trying to look after them all. He works as a bouncer at Daisy’s these days but he always does the rounds when he isn’t working.”

“People never get this part.” Spoiler mused, voice going soft and distant. “They always think the Alley is just…” She waved a gloved hand, “Trash and monsters. They can’t seem to get that there’s more. Just…people. Some really good ones even.”

He smiled behind his mask. There was a reason she was the one of the whole Bat Clan he’d decided to trust with this.

“Come on.” He said, waving her after him as he began an easy run that’d let them both move easily from rooftop to rooftop. Spoiler hesitated a moment, but at length followed, quick and quiet as she darted from shadow to shadow in his wake.

They spent the following couple of hours meandering around Crime Alley at an easy clip. Squat roofs and rusted fire escapes, narrow streets and dark corners. Pausing to jump in and handle anything that popped up or at particular spots of interest where he’d point out places and people. The chop shop run by the ragged gang of teens and children some of the gangs had been angling towards that needed looking after. The homeless encampment nestled between the grimy apartment building Daisy O’Neil had taken over to run her business out of and the tiny, almost forgotten pauper’s cemetery. The usual roosting spots for the drug dealers, the gambling dens, the little family owned cafe that had the best Tantuni at midnight and even better Turkish coffee at the crack of dawn.

It was as they perched on top of this last one, tucked back in the shadows away from view as Spoiler devoured the freshly made Lokma that Mrs. Solak insisted on making fresh for them when they stopped by that the question finally came.

“So what exactly is all this?” Spoiler asked, popping another of the sugary, honey covered Lokma in her mouth. He’d shoved the container Mrs. Solak had given to him over to her after eating only a few, knowing she was going to try to steal them anyway if he didn’t. “When you said you needed my help with something in Crime Alley, I was expecting…I don’t know, drug runners or something.” She popped another golden dough ball in her mouth, cheeks round as a chipmunk and voice muffled as she said, “Not a tour of the place.”

Jason let his head fall back on the brick of the rooftop entrance behind them, eyes scanning the glittering horizon of the Gotham skyline, trying to sort out his answer. He had talked about how he was going to do this with Jazz, practicing what he was going to say, what he wanted to reveal, what outcomes he could expect from the whole thing. When he left he’d felt confident about it all, riding high on the warmth of Jazz’s kiss and the fluttering thumps of little legs kicking against his hand. Now that he was here though he felt lost as to how to begin.

“I’m hanging up the mask.” He finally said. It wasn’t quite like the first time he’d said it out loud, in the privacy of his apartment, curled in bed with Jazz, only brave enough to whisper it in the dark. There wasn’t that rush of anxiety and relief that had hit him at finally saying what had twisted over and over in his head for weeks leading up to that moment. Now there was just the settled feeling, the certainty, the surety of being on the path he wanted to be on. “I wanted to ask if you’d look after my territory me when I do.”

Spoiler gaped at him. “Wait, seriously?”

He almost laughed, he settled on giving her a lazy smile. “Seriously.”

With her masked pulled down so she could eat her treats he could see her wide eyed, disbelief on her face easily. “Why?”

He gave a shrug, aiming for nonchalant. “This used to be your territory for awhile, right? You’re from here, you know the Alley and the people and how it all works.” He felt his smile go softer, “I trust you to be able to keep it safe.”

Spoiler’s - Steph’s - expression softened at that. “That’s…thank you.” She glanced out the same way he had before, face caught in something bittersweet. “I…I hated this place growing up. I still do, kinda. I think everyone that lives here does. But I still missed it, it’s still…still home.”

“Yeah,” He agreed, mind turning over his childhood. The constant fear and hardship. Living rough even when he did have a roof over his head. His father’s heavy hands. His mother’s slow wasting. Crime Alley was a complete shit hole, one where the worst of the worst tended to gather. But it wasn’t all monsters. There were good people too, just trying to scrape by. Old George wandering the streets handing out necessities to working girls and boys. The Solak family and their little shop, giving out the left overs to the street kids and homeless. The Nightingales, crammed into their two bedroom apartment, just trying to get by. “I knew you’d get it.”

They sat in silence for awhile. Steph chewing over his request and her Lokma, Jason lost in memories of the past and wistful dreams of the future. At length the blond next to him bumped his shoulder with hers, head tilting at a questioning angle. “I…I really appreciate what you said, about why me.” She said, awkward and touched in equal measure. “But…I was actually wondering why you were stepping back.”

He was ready for that question, he was. He’d initially just wanted to leave it at none of your fucking business but Jazz had - wise as ever - pointed out that he was asking her a favor, and a big one at that. He might not be comfortable with the rest of his family knowing everything - or anything - but Steph at least deserved an explanation as to why he was asking her to take over his territory.

“You tell anyone this, and I will kill you.” He started and then cringed internally because that had not at any point been something that had come up in his practice conversations with Jazz. Oh well, any more ooie-gooey feelings talk and Steph probably would have thought he was replaced by a pod person or something. “I’m seeing someone.”

The faintly alarmed look the blond vigilante beside him had melted away in an instant, replaced by a sly, mischievous grin. Hellion. One whiff of gossip and that’s all it took. “Ooooh, Big Bad Red Hood has a heart after all.” She crooned, ignoring her earlier reticence to get too close and leaning dramatically against his side. “Who is it huh? Anyone I know? Ooh, is it someone in the Outlaws?”

He was reminded of before he died, suddenly. Of teasing Dick over his latest crush over a beautiful red head that could kick his ass like a proper annoying little brother. In an echo of that moment so many years ago, he shoved Spoiler off in the same way Dick had done to him, rolling his eyes at her dramatic squawking as she nearly dropped her treat to disguise the small smile that wanted to curl at his lip. He swiped at the container lazily, a feint at stealing it back that resulted in a brief scuffle that ended with him popped a few of the Lokma in his mouth as she tore the container - that he had given to her in the first place - away, holding it close to her chest like a precious treasure.

“No, no one you know.” He answered at last they finally settled down. He paused for a beat, gaze turning back to the city as he added. “She’s a civilian.”

Spoiler looked considering at that, chewing at one of the last of the Lokma thoughtfully. “So what’s going on then? You do a face reveal and she asked you to quit the vigilante business?”

“No.” He said, taking a small, steadying breath. Better to just rip off the bandaid. “She’s pregnant.”

Spoiler went still beside him, laughing eyes shuttering and face falling into a neutral mask as she stared at him. After a long, long moment she gave a small, unreadable little, “Oh.”

Jason fought the urge to fidget. Oh. It could mean so many things. Oh shit. Oh no. Oh how nice. Oh boy I can’t wait to tell Bruce about this. That last one, admittedly, was unlikely. Spoiler was on good terms with most of the Bats and Birds but she and Bruce had long had something of a rocky relationship. No where near as bad as what he and the old man had, but still enough that she was probably the very last person to willingly go hunt Bruce down to share all the details of Jason’s private life unless she thought it particularly necessary.

The silence stretched on. And Jason knows what silence does to a human brain. Four seconds of quiet during a conversation after saying something registers as rejection, caused feelings of anxiety and apprehension, even caused the same signals in the brain as physical pain. Prolonged silence and steady attention at the same time caused an urge to fill the quiet, to speak and keep speaking until the other person says something. It was something Bruce taught him, guiding him along in his Robin days on how to perform interrogation and get the person they were questioning to spill their guts.

He was taught too how to outlast that silence in situations where he was being questioned. Both by Bruce and by the League - though the interrogations that he was meant to resist under their teachings had far more than long awkward silences to contend with. He knew how to clamp down on that instinctive drive to keep talking when faced with stillness like this.

And yet, somehow he could stop himself.

“I just…I think about being a kid and my dad going to work,” He said the word with appropriate amount of vitrol, “And then never coming back. Him dying in jail and it just being me and my mom trying to scrape by. Or…or with Bruce. Knowing that I was always going to place second to the Rogues and the city. I just…” His head dropped back on the brick behind him, eyes closed and throat tight. “I can’t do that to my kid. I’m going to be there. I’m going to make sure they’re safe and happy and that they don’t ever have to worry about if their old man is coming home or not.”

It was a nightmare he’d been having, since the morning he and Jazz crowded over a couple of pregnancy tests and saw the results. Dying out in the gutter and shambling home as a ghost to see the grief he left behind. Jazz crying, a child who’s features he could never make out standing in the doorway the way he would stand at the entrance of the cave when he was too injured to go out with Batman. Waiting in painful silence and burning tears to find out that his father was dead.

“I’m not…I’m not cutting out of the life completely.” He said, trying to focus past the squeezing in his chest, trying to force the conversation back into a conversation rather than him just pouring his bleeding heart out to a blank wall. “I’m going to talk to Babs, see if she’d be alright with me helping with some of what she does, or get something similar setup solely for the Alley. I’m going to keep tabs with my guys on what’s going on and work with them that way. And if there’s anything big, obviously you guys can call me in, I’m not just going to sit back if there’s a city wide threat or worse, I just - “

There were arms around him, suddenly. Warm and strong as they wrapped around him, a face pressed into his shoulder, his nose tickled by blond hair.

He sat there, frozen for a long moment before slowly, lifting his own arms to return the hug. Steph gave him an encouraging squeeze. “I get it.” She said, voice whisper soft and almost lost as she spoke into the leather of his jacket. “I think…I think if I’d been older, if I was more able to keep her…I think I would have done the same thing.” There was a faint sniff as she finally pulled away. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were bright with tears. “I’m happy for you.” She moved to gently head butt him, “And I’m honored to take over watching over this shithole of ours.”

Jason gave a watery laugh, not even caring that he was crying as he scrubbed away some of the tears that had burned down his cheek. “Thanks Blondie. Steph.”

She rocked back on her heels, arms crossed as her expression turned suddenly serious. “I do have one condition though.” At his look the seriousness melted away into an exuberant grin. “I want to meet this mystery woman of yours. Wait!” She brightened, “Two conditions! I want to be there when you finally tell B and the rest! I am not missing the look on their faces when you tell them!”

He rolled his eyes and shoved her, sending her tumbling into the container of Lokma and sending the remaining fried dough balls rolling across the grungy roof. Steph squawked, dropping to her knees before the thoroughly ruined sweets as dramatic as if it was her one true love laying dead before her. “They were so young, so innocent!” She wailed, throwing her head back as if to howl at the sky in mourning before snapping back to him, finger pointing at him accusatory. “You! This is your fault! I will have my vengeance!”

The rest of the night was spent darting from rooftop to rooftop in an echo of the game of tag he used to play with Dick and Babs years ago. Tackling each other and fighting without actually aiming to do real damage. Only pausing to jump down to the street or through a window here and there to knock some heads together.

By the time he was heading to the Dead Man’s Hand so he could walk Jazz home - or whisk her off to his safehouse, if he was lucky and she was able to duck her siblings for the day - he felt lighter. Steph would look after the Alley, the people he protected. He’d work with her over the next few months, get her integrated with his lieutenants and make sure she was familiar with the ins and outs of his little slice of Gotham, make sure she was as ready as she could be to take over for him.

[not-a-newt]

HATER MODE ACTIVATED: CRAIG AND DEACON DO NOT LOOK ALIKE!!!

Boone is built like a lion-faced easter island head/gargoyle hybrid with his big walnut smashing chin, Devil's point nose, and permanent scowl... meanwhile Deacon has the world's saddest old man eyes, a pointy little dimple chin, cheekbones cut to kill, and just like, , ,, a pretty average Joe nose

I mean with their sunglasses on there could be a momentary confusion, but yall need to STOP saying that they're like twins or something, not all bald ass white men are the same person 😤🤧😭

[pastafossa]

Hi Pasta!! I have a question 🙃 What do you think Matt and Jane got each other for Christmas? I cant stop thinking about it. They’re so cute 🥹

BEHOLD. Like 1.1k so rest is behind a see more, but this was in my drafts for what their gifts would be. I didn't have time to get the whole scene done with everything, but I figured this would do!

It didn’t take long for Matt to make use of some of his Christmas gifts, and you found yourself standing by the couch less than an hour later, staring down in amusement at the happy, melted puddle that was Matt Murdock beneath the glow of a Christmas tree.

He’d burrowed down into his new hoodie, his eyes closed and his nose tucked down into the velvet-soft alpaca wool that lined the inside—some of the softest wool you’d been able to find, and something you’d searched long and hard for. Wrapped around the rest of him was a rich, red alpaca wool blanket, thick and warm and equally soft. You had a feeling that, under the blanket, he’d likely also slipped into his new fleece-lined sweats and fleecy socks, ninety-five percent of his body now cradled in soothing, warm comfort. 

“So is that a yes on those?” you said softly, relieved now that it was obvious you’d chosen right when it came to this. It had been… a while, since you’d given anything for Christmas, much less given a gift to someone who meant as much to you as Matt did. Soft had seemed a good road to take, and you’d spent ages hunting for something that he’d be able to wear even when his senses ramped up to the point of pain. “Soft enough?”

A quiet sigh, almost a moan, was his response, followed by a glutted “Mhm,” before he lazily lifted his arms out from under the blanket, opening them to you. You quickly took up the invitation, climbing into his lap and letting him wind his arms around you. You dropped your head against his shoulder, reaching over to run your palm across the velvet-soft fabric covering his chest. His reaction was instant, arching up into your hand as he purred and melted further into the couch at the sensation of the fabric sliding on his skin, his head lolling back when you nuzzled in past the collar of the hoodie so you could press your lips gently to his pulse. Briefly, you passed over the new necklace chain he wore, the little braille pendant reading ‘Always Loved’ hidden somewhere beneath the fabric, its color a match for the key around your neck. That, at least, you knew was a success, but the rest...   

“You really do like the clothes, don’t you?” you asked him, relaxing a little, curling your fingers to scratch a little as you ran them up and down his chest. “I had a good feeling on the necklace, but for these… I wasn’t sure.” “Why not?” he asked sleepily, fumbling one hand up until he could slip it up under the back of your shirt, palming the line of your spine like you were stroking his chest. You weren’t surprised; he always tried to reciprocate, or maybe he just... liked having an excuse to touch you back. “These are probably the softest things I own now. They’re perfect. They feel amazing.”  

“I was worried it was too… I don’t know. Impersonal.” You drummed your fingers a little against his chest, tucking your legs up until you were more comfortable. “But you shouldn’t have to wear things that hurt on your bad days, or at all really, so I-I guess I just—”

“The hoodie smells like you,” he murmured, tipping his head to lay it atop yours. You went quiet, still and unmoving as he continued, “I can tell that you wore it for me a little after washing it, and that it made you happy to do it, because your scent’s different when you’re happy and when you love someone. And every time I move, nothing scratches. Nothing hurts. All of these feel soft and gentle, like how you touch me when I’m bleeding, and when I need you most.” His chest expanded and then dipped on a contented sigh, and then he reached up, brushing his thumb over your cheek, his thumb coming away wet. His voice dropped to something even softer, low and tender. “So much of my life is pain, sweetheart. How could the way you touch me, the way you want to take away some of that pain from me, be impersonal?”   

You wound yourself a little tighter around him, hiding your face against his neck as you let out a shaky breath, and he pulled you in tighter with a soothing noise. You’d been so… so terrified you’d fuck this up, that you’d do this wrong after so many years of dodging it, of being alone, of being forced to avoid anything like a holiday, anything like friends or love. The idea that you’d gotten it right on your first try… 

And you weren’t the only one. 

You leaned away from him just far enough to pick up one of the two photo frames on the coffee table where it had been set atop a massive pile of books you’d wanted to read for years, years in which you’d been forced to pass them by, story by story, cover by cover until Matt hunted down those stories and placed them back into your hands. You laid back against his chest again after you’d brushed your fingers fondly over the books, and instead, you focused once more on the photo inside the elegant black frame. 

Foggy had taken it at Josie’s at some point—a candid of you and Matt crammed into a booth, his arm draped around your shoulders as you leaned into him, a bright grin on his face, your head tipped back as you laughed at something he’d said. The warmth in your eyes and his smile was obvious as you stared fondly up at him beneath the dull glow of the bar, at the very same table Foggy had once worked at to ensure your friendship with Matt was mended. There was no disguising what this was. And… 

“I can’t believe I can put this on my desk now,” you whispered, tracing your fingers over the frame. 

And you didn’t… have to disguise it, did you? There was no need to hide, not anymore. You could have his picture on your desk, could hold his hand as he walked you home, could kiss him when he came to see you at your office or you at his or when you were both out in the rain. And he could do the same with the second picture, one destined for his own desk, all so that he could proudly gesture towards it whenever you came up. 

A… a real life. 

He lifted one arm and you sniffled, crawling back around to wrap your arms around him in return, burying your face against his neck as he held you close. Held you here at home—a home for you both, for your tree, for your books, for an actual life, lived fully and completely and wholly for the first time.

“I love you, so much,” he whispered. "Merry Christmas."

“Love you, too. Merry Christmas.”

There was no bigger gift he could give you.  

[dear-mrs-otome]

Theo being like I would rather die I would literally rather starve to death (and he tries) - slowly, agonizingly, and all alone - than ever hurt you or frighten you in any way.

[eclaire-went-bam]

ppl, especially low/no-empathy ppl, who talk to ableist anti-pd cluster b abuse believers with the upmost patience & understanding are so crazy (/pos) for that because what

how do y'all sit there and level w/ them just. so much.

i know it's kind of necessary bcs even if they don't listen to us anyways, they're only gonna think we're 10× worse if we don't walk them through the spiel w/ hands held (which we're not even owed to do anyways) but like i can hardly see myself doing it

so like

respect

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

told bro id removed means... did not tell him that anything had happened

[spoiler-alert-andabunchofnumbers]

A Long Rant About Why Hope and Snow’s Arc is Brilliant

"You've changed, haven't you? Seems like you've toughened up."

"I'm a l'Cie. I had to."

"The only ones that ought to be fighting the army…are us dumb grown-ups."

"You think it's stupid to fight?"

"It is if you get killed. Anyway, just lay low. Let the dummies duke it out. The army's no match for NORA, right?"

"He was…he was smiling!"

Let's talk about this. LET US TALK ABOUT THIS!

In just one scene this game managed to make you believe that Hope and Snow are going to implode.

Right before this, when Hope was with Lightning, Hope was on the path to healing. He'd confessed what happened to his mother - for the first time since the incident, I might add, - and how much he hates Snow. The Gapra Whitewood alone is amazing but let's stay focused.

Lightning and Hope are brilliant together, with Lightning seeing what her influence as a role model is doing to an innocent kid. She's a maternal figure, both to her sister and eventually to Hope, but she's been running from her failure to save and believe in her sister as well as losing her entire home and identity. She finally realizes that the warpath she's on is unhealthy and the wrong path for her. Maybe she'd succeed in toppling the Sanctum, maybe she wouldn't have, but an enemy and a goal are things she can kill and accomplish.

The only problem is Hope. When she gives him the advice that she herself is following, to control her emotions, find an end goal and block out everything else, she starts to see how unhealthy her choices are both physically and mentally. She's sent Hope on a warpath, and when she finally announces that "I made a mistake!", Hope is still left angry, thinking there's nothing left if he doesn't have anyone to fight. Hope is shouting at her "Then what battles do we fight? And against who?!"

When she finally convinces Hope to calm down, he says "I'm sorry, I messed up" and you can feel his anger slowly fading as he regains his reason. At the end of that section, Hope's final words are, "Snow believed Serah, didn't he?" That one line demonstrates how Hope is willing to see past his first impressions of Snow and listen to who he is as a person, that maybe Snow really was just trying to save everyone. Both Lightning and Hope together are on the path to forgiving Snow and healing for their own sake.

Then, the next scene happens. They're reminded of how little hope they have of surviving, how they're on the run, how Rosch reminds the army that they aren't people, they're targets. Lightning immediately volunteers to sacrifice herself if it will give Hope a chance to live and find himself in whatever time he has left - "You survive."

Snow was a bonus, since she doesn't want Hope with her while she takes on the whole army and draws their fire so Hope can get away, but leaving him with Snow is safer than bringing her with him. She chucks him at Snow saying "Take care of him", knowing Hope will be uncomfortable but he'll be protected. She likely didn't account for Fang following her and hadn't intended Hope to be left alone with Snow.

Fun bonus is that when Hope is thrown off of Shiva and the soldiers converge on him, Hope rises to his feet and is already in a battle stance. When Snow last saw this kid, he cowered at nothing but the hopelessness of their situation, much less a soldier aiming their weapon at him, but now Hope was fully ready to kick those guys' butts if Snow hadn't intervened. And so began the slow descent as Hope started seeing everything he hated in Snow - Snow automatically assumed he couldn't defend himself, that Snow needed to save the day.

Hope had begun to forgive Snow, hearing Lightning coming to the realization that he believed Serah when no one else did and believed in her when she was ready to give up because of her fate. Then Snow is back in his arrogant glory, treating Hope like a kid because he hasn't seen all the growth Hope has gone through. Lightning treated him like a kid until Odin happened and she started properly supporting him to grow stronger rather than just "babysitting" him. She talked to Hope like he was an adult with a little less life experience - which is how you should be treating a kid as smart as Hope.

Then the scene comes up.

But Snow keeps calling him "partner" in their battle quotes and taking charge when Hope clearly already knows what he's doing now thanks to Lightning.

Hope is a bit confused at where Snow's been and what he's been up to with a branch of the army trying to kill them, but he's passive aggressive at best. Just because he doesn't want to kill Snow anymore doesn't mean he has to like him. Snow does not get the hint, still seeing Hope as just a kid and he has a right to teen angst considering all he's been through.

"The only ones that ought to be fighting the army…are us dumb grown-ups."

From Snow's perspective: he's telling Hope that kids shouldn't have to go through such a horrible thing, to have the whole army training their guns on you and calling you nothing but a target. Hope shouldn't have to be running for his life, taking on the military that's supposed to be protecting citizens and kids like him. Adults are just dumb like that, getting ourselves into trouble. Kids should be smarter than that - be smarter than that, Hope.

From Hope's perspective: Snow just called any adult who tries to fight the army a fool - including his mother when she volunteered to help fight their way out of the Purge. She fought because Snow asked for volunteers (he knows but often forgets that her main reason for joining was to keep Hope safe; Snow hadn't even thought of asking for volunteers until a bunch of people asked to help them). He just called Nora a fool for fighting to save Hope’s life at Snow’s behest.

"You think it's stupid to fight?"

"It is if you get killed."

Whew we're just gonna stop right there mid-sentence. In those two sentences we managed to create two sides of a conversation that perfectly encapsulate the miscommunication between Hope and Snow that’s driving a 14-year-old kid into a murderous rage even after he'd begun a path to healing.

Snow just called adults stupid for fighting the army, then he goes and pushes it further by saying that it’s only really stupid if you get killed. From Snow's perspective, this is a perfectly reasonable thing to say. It helps no one if you run into battle and get killed - no matter if it's just your life on the line or if you have others you're trying to protect. The people you're trying to protect don't necessarily benefit from your sacrificing yourself by throwing yourself at the enemy in a desperate kamikaze, and Hope himself shouldn't just give up on his life even when the army has them outnumbered and they have no plan - he'll find hope to go forward, he should never just give up and go out in a blaze of rageful spite.

From Hope's perspective, that idiot just insulted his mother! He just called Nora stupid for fighting the army even though she had multiple good reasons to have volunteered - Snow asking for volunteers and putting civilians into the line of fire (even though they were already and Nora joined for Hope and it was entirely her choice). Then he calls her especially stupid because she got herself killed.

In essence, Snow just voiced the thoughts of everyone who hates on Nora's character in general. “She was a MOTHER, what was she DOING volunteering to FIGHT, “Moms are tough”? psssh she DIED, what an idiot.”

I was angry for Hope in that moment, man. I was ready to stab Snow too.

"Anyway, just lay low. Let the dummies duke it out. The army's no match for NORA, right?"

Ooof, and then we have the final line where Snow uses the name NORA as his acronym for "No Obligations, Rules, or Authority." As Lightning had told Hope in the Gapra Whitewood, (let me quote the datalog entry for that moment): “They wish to live without restrictions, she explains, though some might argue that what they really wish is to live without responsibility.” This means that Snow just used NORA in the context of ignoring the responsibility of those who he himself brought into the battle under his leadership. He was in charge of those volunteers, including Nora, but now he acts as though he’s forgotten all of the weight of their deaths that were directly or indirectly his fault.

So in conclusion, Snow just insulted Nora Estheim in three different ways in the span of one short conversation. Nice going, bud.

To be clear, it’s made very obvious in the beginning that Snow is absolutely crushed by the guilt of everyone who died under his command. Nora in particular has traumatized him because he blames himself for letting her fall out of his grip (see this post for that rant). Snow isn't a children's cartoon character telegraphing his every thought and the lesson you need to learn from him; he's repressing his feelings and he's very good at hiding it. He is brilliant at acting like he's happy and fine and running away from the guilt because if he let it crush him, more people would get hurt because he was too distracted and didn't protect them.

His breakdown when Hope presses him explains the final puzzle piece: he didn’t know how to possibly atone - so he just kept avoiding it.

“There is nothing that can make something like that right again. When someone’s dead, when someone’s gone, words are useless…I know! It’s all my fault! But I don’t know how to fix it! Where do you start? What do you say?”

When Hope finally wakes up, Snow has finally come to terms with his guilt and confesses it outright. It was his fault Nora died, he shouldn’t have said a lot of what he said before about words being useless, how he could never make up for someone dying so he needed to keep going.

“I thought if I couldn’t make up for it, then all the apologies in the world wouldn’t mean thing. So I decided I had to find a way to pay for it first, before I’d even have the right to say sorry. But, it’s like you said. I was using that as an excuse, so I could run from my own guilt.”

Snow finally acknowledges that he’s been running, that Nora’s death is his fault, and notice that he hands Hope Lightning’s knife, telling him to dish out any punishment he wants. Hope could kill Snow right then and there, but instead, he just finally confesses, “She’s gone, Snow.”

Hope closes the knife. He lets go of his hate.

Let’s quote the datalog again, because no one likes reading except me, apparently, but the datalog has genuinely brilliant writing: “He didn’t survive this long to see revenge - he saw revenge as a means to survive.”

Palumpolum concludes three character arcs:

Lightning

She admits how she snapped from losing Serah and her life all at once and went down a dangerous warpath (dragging Hope along with her)

She finds a new goal in surviving to see Serah wake up

She apologizes to Snow!

Hope

He gathered the strength to pin the blame on Snow despite knowing it was the Sanctum’s fault for killing her, despite knowing killing him wouldn’t bring her back

He acknowledges that he went down the wrong path, even if he did it to survive

He accepts his mother’s death

He forgives Snow

Snow

He admits that Nora’s death is his fault and that he’s been running from the guilt of not only her but many who died because of him

He was too overwhelmed by the idea that he didn’t know how to atone for his actions, so he just kept avoiding his responsibility

He faces the consequences, apologizes even knowing that it won’t fix everything

Anyway, if you made it this far, here’s a picture of some chocobos and sheep just hanging out in order to form a barrier:

On the next edition of Final Fantasy XIII actually had really good character arcs: Sugar and Rainbows