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stu-dyingstudent · 28 days

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Sakura Haruno fic recs: time travel AU

I'm finally getting around to recommending some good Sakura-centric time travel fics! There are plenty of them out there and they can be kind repetitive, but I always eat them up. Typically speaking, I really don't care much for the whole introduction bit at the start where it's the actual process of her being sent back... So just make it past there before you decide whether or not to continue!!! Also, I'm starting to think this list is getting kinda long, so maybe I'll do a second one?

I've been dying to post some of these fics in a list, so please enjoy!

Started: 2024.08.16

Last Updated: 2024.08.26

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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Sakura - lilac haze || ffn/ao3 || M || minasaku || time travel AU || complete

AU. Non-Canon. Time Travel. Please see inside for full warnings. Cross posted on Ao3. On his deathbed he was granted eternal peace and place to rest for all of time. Of course that was not appealing to him. Ever unpredictable to the end he had a counter offer. One that the Sage had to consider. In which Sakura's going to have a rough time. A really rough time.

If there is one thing I want you to take away from this list, it is this fic right here. I kid you not, Sakura is one of the best fics I have ever read. I have never felt so gutted, so heartbroken, so giddy, so stressed, all from one work. It's a masterpiece all while being criminally underrated. The characterizations and storytelling are beautifully done. You feel for the characters and the relationships formed along the way are truly great. Please share this author some love.

Check TWs before hand!!

The Misadventures of Kakashi and the Girl From No Where - Goldfishlover73 || ao3 || kakasaku || M || time travel AU || complete

When a girl called Sakura seemingly falls in the sky, Kakashi is skeptical. Far more skeptical than the rest of Team Minato are. War is approaching quickly and this strange girl is leaving more questions than answers in her wake, Kakashi must decide where his trust and loyalties lie in a constantly changing world.

Told in the perspective of Kakashi in his youth! Really interesting take and I love how strong Sakura is in this in addition to the fact that we get to see a different side of Kakashi that we aren't used to.

Anachronistic Drift - Elesrea || ffn || gen || T || time travel AU || incomplete

Her plan was flawless. Save Shisui. Save the world. Time-travel, Sakura-centric AU

Sakura spends years training to be sent back in time and save the world from Sasuke. Whilst masquerading as her younger self, she poses as an unofficial ANBU to stay anonymous in her efforts of changing the shinobi world for the better.

Tourniquet - lilac haze || ffn || T || minasaku || time travel AU || complete

She was his tourniquet. She stopped the bleeding, she stopped his bleeding. She stopped his pain, his despair, his loneliness. She was the first face he saw. She was the first person he trusted. She was the first person to keep his secret. She was his tourniquet. He did not love her. He only loved the idea of her. SakuraXMinato. Time-Travel Fic. Alt. Universe

I quite honestly think this is a hidden gem amongst time travel AUs since I never see people recommending it, but Touriquet is so good! What's interesting here is that it isn't Sakura that's playing with time, but rather Minato. The night of the Nine-Tails attack, rather than dying, he is sent to the future where post-war Sakura is the one to find him and keep the former Hokage alive. It's a delicate situation and one which is kept a secret from many, but through Minato's depression and difficulties with his new life, Sakura becomes a close confident.

Same author as Sakura! I gotta read more of their works

Armour-Sleeved Single Hit - thatdamnuchiha || ao3 || T || madasaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

Sasuke always told Sakura she was weak. Even after she trained with Tsunade for years he only had eyes for Naruto whom he considered strong. She would forever be invisible to him no matter how many mountains she toppled. Being a member of Team Seven despite Sasuke’s refusal to acknowledge her meant she got herself into her fair share of sticky situations. Getting stuck a hundred odd years in the past had to take the cake though. But she was just a weak little girl and compared to the shinobi of old she’d be ridiculously pathetic. Sasuke had said she was weak to him – a modern day shinobi who hadn’t been forced into battle after battle like they did in the Warring Clans Era. Obviously she’d be nothing more than a spec of dirt in the eyes of the Founders.

Sakura manages to find herself in founding-era Konoha! While trying to prove that medical ninja are capable fighters she unknowingly gains the affection of Madara Uchiha. After all, the Uchiha find beauty in strength. Super cute read!

here are the fruits of your labor (would you like a cherry on top?) - snickiebear || ao3 || M || shisaku || time travel AU || one-shot complete

Shisui smiles and it is unlike any smile she has seen before. She cannot remember the last time she had seen a smile.

Sakura manages to fix everything and now tries to live her life in a past she doesn't know. Shisui is the first to find her and the two of them form a close relationship that continues through her journey of recovery.

The Moon Knows Best - darth_healer || ao3 || E || madasaku || time travel AU || complete

The Moon has played a cruel trick on Madara. He's still home, but it's not the same. Instead of a tranquil forest, there's a colorful vibrant village. Instead of the cliffside he knows so well, it's a collection of Senju faces, one of which belongs to his good friend Hashirama. And instead of Hashirama, Madara is saddled with a very interesting, pink-haired girl. MadaSaku in which young Madara goes forward through time.

Madara finds himself far into the future where the first to stumble upon him is Sakura. He's such a brat, but his and Sakura's interactions are rather entertaining.

In the Magic Hour - summersirius || ao3 || E || minasaku || time travel AU || complete

It's not perfect, but everything is beautiful. —Minato/Sakura

A sharingan mishap lands Sakura in the past where she drops down in front of team Minato. With her hope of returning to the present time dwindling, Sakura excepts her new life and tries to make the best of the situation and the new bonds that come with it. The dynamic between Sakura and the older generation is quite refreshing and her mentor relationship with the former team 7 is great.

Stumble - writer168 || ao3/ffn || gen || T || time travel AU || complete

Sakura wanted to die.Sasori was fine with staying dead.But it seemed fate had other plans for them, because when they both wake up younger with blood pulsing through their veins, they had to remember how to live again.Time Travel AU

Sasori and Sakura are both sent back in time and they try to make a difference in their respective villages. Told in the perspective of both characters, but primarily Sakura. She ends up forming a pretty sweet bond with Ibiki and Genma (which I love) and they help her through some things. Sakura has a rough time

A Twist in Time - wolf08 || ffn || sasusaku || T || time travel AU || complete

With Konoha on the verge of destruction, Sakura is sent on a last-resort mission to save her world by travelling to the past. Join her in coping with her old body's shortcomings, testing the natural laws of time, falling in love all over again, and rediscovering who she is.

With Sakura frustrated at being back to where she started in her becoming of a shinobi, she begins to train with Sasuke. This time around in her life, her relationship with her brooding teammate isn't so strained. Pretty cute read imo

Return & Rehash - SpaceNugget11 || ffn || sasusaku || M || time travel AU || incomplete

"You," Sakura snarled with bared teeth. Sasuke gagged for air, clutching at her forearm, but she only pressed harder into him. Her green eyes crackled, and she wished she could burn him alive with the heat of her anger.

Sasuke and Sakura certainly did not end in their last life on goods terms and it is prevalent from the moment Sakura awakens and attacks her teammate.

An Inch of Gold - KuriQuinn || ffn || sasusaku || T || time travel AU || complete

Team 7 is sent on a mission to investigate a disturbance outside of the village, where they encounter an unconscious girl in a crater. The mysterious Sarada insists she's a shinobi from the Hidden Leaf trying to rescue her teammates. When the team discovers she possesses a Sharingan, things become even more unbelievable. [Part of the Legacy of Fire Series]

Sarada lands herself back in time all while crashing into another team 7 mission gone wrong. An Inch of Gold is in multiple perspectives, but they're all done quite well. Sasuke and Sakura are obviously rather flustered by the situation and the fact they have to deal with it in front of the team makes it quite entertaining.

These Eyes of Mine (I Can See) - tsukuyue || ao3 || gen || time travel AU || complete

They've lost. Naruto was dead, killed at Kaguya’s hands. Along with him died any illusions of hope that they could win. They couldn’t win, but perhaps they wouldn’t need to. In attempts to stop the Fourth Shinobi War from ever occuring, Sakura is sent back in time to the moment of her birth. Protecting the people she cared about would be much easier if she knew all the facts. OR Where Sakura can see the dead, and Danzō deserves to die.

I'll be honest, I can't remember much, but I do remember that it was really good! I believe a large focus is the Uchiha massacre.

Trials of Change - Espoiretreves || ao3 || gen || time travel AU || complete

Haruno Sakura made a promise. Looking in the eyes of her Shisou and the reanimated Hokage, she took on the most important mission of her life. Go back in time and try to prevent the 4th Shinobi War. Now, Sakura is back to her 5-year-old body, with all the knowledge and haunting memories of the future. She vows to keep her precious people safe and stop certain events from happening, without altering the timeline too much. The trials her emotions and logic put her through have her questioning her very existence, but for the sake of peace, she has to push forward. No matter what.

If you love Shisui then you'll definitely like Trials of Change. Him and Sakura form the most wholesome friendship ever and try their best in taking down ROOT. A huge cast is present here and the whole thing is just great. It seems as if everyone has some character development lmao.

Time Flies Like An Arrow - Katlou303 || ao3 || gen || K || time travel AU || complete

Sakura traveled back in time with the intent of changing everything, but something went wrong, and now she's four years old having nightmares about impossible monsters and losing friends she has yet to meet.

I always like the ones where Sakura isn't fully aware she time travelled. I find it interesting in this fic to see how oblivious Sakura is to her situation, she's a four year old in mind and body. However, she still feels the need to make a difference in the lives of the people around her.

cut the head off the snake - itsthechocopuff || ao3 || T || time travel AU || complete

when eighteen-year-old, post-war Sakura is thrown back into her tiny, pre-Academy body, she makes a decision. she'd had a childhood once already, and this time, she's more interested in Not Dying when the inevitable shit hits the proverbial fan. so she will work harder, care less, kill more, and smile when she's done.and hey, if she ends up reviving an extinct nature transformation to attract the most corrupt, power-hungry man from her timeline, all the better for her, right?

Sakura decides that her first order of business after traveling back in time is to infiltrate ROOT and that's exactly what she does. Sai, Shin, and Shisui are all great characters and team Ro is present as well. Very good!

Update: just found out it was recently completed!!

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Q: Do you guys like my little comments? If you look at my other lists you'll probably notice that I tend to reuse some of what I say (bc I'm lazy), but for the most part I try to add something new whenever I put a fic on a list. I know that descriptions aren't always very helpful, so I like to put a little something for y'all to get a better idea of what to expect!

Send me recs if you have any!!!

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syninplays · 6 months

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So uhm... I did a thing...

✨Character Info Template✨

Been meaning to do this a long time ago (and actually started it but never finished it, lol) as a way to share some more information about my ocs without needing to use a custom page theme, but mostly because I haven't found any page theme that looks exactly as I want and allows this much customization.

There are two versions and both are almost exactly the same; but the example shown in the left has an 'appearance' section which is small and has few quick facts regarding the oc's appearance; while the example on the right has a 'moodboard' section instead which allows you to add more info about your oc.

You can change every section/title to fit your needs like I did in the examples below; I personally removed some categories as well and got rid of some connections as this oc doesn't have that many close friends/partners to fill the original template. However, I also included an extra separated 'connections' section in the download in case you want to add more people and more information.

I recommend you stick to square-shaped pictures so it's easier to fit them to each section. Also if and when you edit the information or section titles, please select only one line at a time to replace it so you don't lose the text format. (Titles shouldn't change because that's a single format/font within the same text box, but should it change you can always hit ctrl+z hehe) When you're done, I strongly recommend you save this as a .png instead of .jpg so it's the best possible quality!

Last but not least, this is a .psd file. So you'll need either Photoshop (I did this with Photoshop Portable, but it supports newer versions of PS and it *should* support older versions too) or Photopea to open and edit this file.

Credits: Adobe Photoshop, Inter font, Golften Vintage font

>DOWNLOAD< (patreon but free :p)

(note: I'm posting this with my gaming blog because I think my fellow gamers might be interested in this, but please consider giving credits to me if you use this template by tagging @synindoodles instead of this blog)

More info on how to use and edit this template below the cut!

Layers:

>Each layer is properly named and categorized. The general layers such as the background, the icon shape and background shapes are under the groups.

>If you don't want to see/don't need one of the connections' pictures and information, I recommend you find which one it is (1, 2, 3, 4, 5 or 6) and click on the eye symbol next to the layer to hide it so that way if you ever need it, it won't be truly gone.

>To edit a text section, simply find the layer (such as General Information>Left Column) and double click on the 'T' symbol next to the layer. That way it will open edit mode and allow you to edit the text, just don't hit delete or enter while everything is selected or you'll erase it :p

>Main text sections aren't separated, they're blocks of text. I recommend you don't remove the amount (for example, if you downloaded the version with the 'appearance' section, which has 5 sections of information, don't remove the fifth line.) Either leave it empty or replace it with another data, otherwise it will look weird. The 'general information' section might look good even if you remove a few lines, just don't get rid of the whole block of text.

Pictures:

>To add a new picture, simply paste it over this document and move it using the Move Tool.

>To frame it (so it becomes a circle or fits over the shape you want), make sure the picture layer is over the layer you want, then while holding alt click between the two layers. [For example, if you want to add a new main oc picture: 1) paste the pic you want, 2) move it with the Move Tool so it's covering the big circle, 3) once you've fully covered the shape (if it isn't you can resize it by right clicking on it then on 'free transform', sometimes you might need to hold shift to proportionally resize it) make sure the newly pasted pic layer is over the layer named "picture goes here", 4) hold the alt key and hover your mouse cursor over the line between your pic layer and the circle layer until you see an arrow going down symbol, once you see it click it and tah dah! your picture should now have the same shape as the circle! - you can further move it if it doesn't fit the way you want with the Move Tool (;

Others:

>You can change every color, font and section to your liking, just don't change the general layout of the template.

>To hide/show the guides (those bright blue lines all over the document), click ctrl+,

>'Inter' is a free font and you can get it in the link above (linked with the credits), Golften Vintage is not, but you can get the demo version >here< (just scroll down and click the blue download button under license). I will not tell you how to install fonts as it might be different for everyone (for me it's C:/Windows/Fonts and I just drop the zipped files (except the .txt one) there), but google is your friend.

>I can't think of anything else that needs to be said here, but if you have any other question feel free to send me an ask or dm and I'll help you out!

>Last but not least, a like is appreciated if you plan to use this plus consider tagging @synindoodles if you use it <3

#psd template #template #characters page #muses page #muse page #muse template #character template #character page template #oc page #oc page template #synindoodles #rp resources #rp template #roleplay resources #roleplay template #writers resources #writing resources #writing template #writers template

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amomentsescape · 8 months

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Bro, I love your writing so much and it’s so cool to see some new Gotham stuff pop up on my feed s🥹❤️❤️🥹❤️🥹 if it’s alright, could I please have some fluffy and slightly suggestive headcanons of some Gotham boys, including but not limited to the J squad, with a punk or alt s/o? If you don’t want to do anything suggestive, tho, I totally understand

Please and thank you in advance if you decide to do this ❤️

J Squad + Oswald, Victor, & Bruce with Punk! Reader

Includes: Jerome, Jonathan, Jervis, Oswald, Victor, Bruce

A/N: I hope you enjoy! I wasn't able to make every character suggestive, but I tried my best to make the HC's fit your request!

Jerome Valeska

He loves your aesthetic

Has asked you time and time again to help him get dressed before a heist

Thinks your outfits would not only look badass while murdering people, but they would also help you blend in at night

"Practical and sexy, doll"

Loves when you place your tall, leather combat boot on his leg, asking him sweetly to help you lace it up

He likes to trace his fingers along your leg at this, sometimes going a little too high which earns him a swift smack to the hand

He just lets out a chuckle at this

"I'll get you back later..."

If you're out and about and he notices people looking at you, he immediately helps you embrace it

Will twirl you around in the middle of the street and place a big kiss to your lips

Whispers in your ear how gorgeous and sexy you are whenever he gets the chance

If he's out on a heist and he sees something he thinks you'll like, he'll take it

Even if it steers him off his current mission a bit

Starts having you paint his nails religiously as "good luck"

But in reality, he just likes how his pretty fingertips look wrapped around your neck

Jonathan Crane

This sweet boy is in awe of you

Your edgy looks, your interests, everything

He's never been introduced into this genre before, but you've opened a whole new world for him

Absolutely falls in love with the music you listen to

He just connects to it so well

He also adores being a dress up doll for you

Want to try out a new makeup look on him? Go for it.

You want to see what he'd look like in an edgier outfit? He's ready.

You want to dye his hair a crazy, experimental color? Let's do it!

Seeing him dressed similar to you empowers him in a way

He's used to being hidden in the background, so you pulling him away from that insecurity is like a completely different life to him

Gets extra touchy when you have chokers on

Will softly give you little kisses just above and below the accessory

He's ashamed of it, but he lets his eyes wander for just a little too long when you get all dressed up

He tries to hide it but will turn into a huge blushing and stuttering mess if you catch him in the act

Jervis Tetch

He's definitely intrigued by you

He's used to his world being full of chaotic color and fantasy

But you have this certain edge and uniqueness about you that he hasn't come across before

They say opposites attract for a reason

He feels like you balance him out

You actually help him feel his emotions and openly discuss the things floating around in his head

But of course, being opposites still come with a few disagreements

He finds your taste in music and makeup a little... much

His taste is a little softer and more elegant, but he's not one to judge what you enjoy

He's just tried listening to a couple of your favorite songs and found them scary

He's also not very knowledgeable in this particular genre

So if you bring up something, he'll simply look at you like you've grown a third head

But besides that, he's overall supportive on whatever you want to wear or do

Loves when you both get dressed up together for a night out

It gives him a deep sense of thrill when people look at you both while out

You two may have opposite styles, but your aesthetics are similar in the fact that they don't "fit in" with the public eye

And Jervis honestly loves that

Oswald Cobblepot

You caught Oswald's eye almost immediately when he first encountered you

Something about the way you held yourself drew him in

And when he got to know you?

He was so interested

He wanted to learn more about your clothing choices, the music and art styles you liked, what made you interested in the aesthetic, etc.

He might not share the same exact passion for the things you do, but he will always be very respectful on supporting your interests

He also just finds your look to be super attractive

He doesn't mean to, but he finds himself becoming a little more submissive around you

He's used to throwing out orders and making decisions in his normal day-to-day life

But coming home to you immediately allows him let go of those reigns

You just tell him what to do, and he'll do it

You've accidentally gotten him to whimper a couple times just by complimenting him or giving him words of praise

When you kiss him, you can feel his whole body fall into you

He literally turns into Jello

But he's still an emotional man too, so give him lots of love and attention, and he'll be fully content

Victor Zsasz

Well, obviously he adores how you look

I mean, he wouldn't consider his own look to be punk, but he's aware that he's taken inspiration from the genre in the past

Honestly thinks you two make a badass duo

Even the Zsaszettes admire you whenever you're around

He also likes how easy it is to spot you in a crowd

Not that he stalks you while he's out "working" or anything

He loves your normal outfits of course, but if you wear anything that shows a little skin?

Oh boy, does that dark gleam shine in his eye

He just about sinks his teeth into you (literally)

Victor is known to keep his cool no matter what, but you are able to tell when he really likes a particular outfit that day

A hand on your lower back, a lingering glance, and a teasing smile are all signs

But he also will not hesitate to pinch your butt at the most random times too, public or not

Makes you hold his weapons sometimes because he thinks they make you look even edgier

He also has a thing for any piercings you have too

He's not sure what it is, but he's fascinated with how the cool metal sinks into your skin

He'll play with them too if you let him

He's careful not to hurt you

Unless that's what you want, of course...

Bruce Wayne

He honestly doesn't really think anything of it or notice it much

Which isn't a bad thing by any means

Bruce doesn't judge based on looks, so however you decide to present yourself is just who you are in his eyes

But he also cares a lot about your interests

He'll happily sit beside you and listen to your music, shop with you for new clothes, and come with you for your latest piercing or tattoo

You name it, he's there

If it means a lot to you, then it means a lot to him

But he does think it's pretty cool to have such a badass partner

Has helped you dye your hair a handful of times

He kind of gets a slight thrill from knowing that he's the only one that gets to see all sides to you

People may see you one way when you're out in public, but he also gets to see you when you're at home sleeping in his bed or cuddled up on his couch watching some crazy show he's never heard of

He just likes knowing that he gets all of you

He finds it pretty romantic

Really likes any leather pieces you own

You may have persuaded him to buy a couple jackets based on ones that you already had in your closet

But he especially loves the leather on you

Becomes a bit touchier when you have it on, tracing his hands along the material

He thinks it looks great on you and will definitely let his gaze linger a little longer than usual

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kyber-crystal · 9 months

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scarlet ibis (songbird) || anakin skywalker

summary: they say the purest love takes the longest time, and your story is nothing short of that. there’s fragility within beauty and to him, you’re a mosaic of stained glass (alt title: 5 times you call anakin skywalker by his last name, and 1 time you finally call him by his first.)

words: ~3.2k

warnings: angst, mild violence, mentions of blood + death (but no major character death dw), two oblivious idiots in love

a/n: 2nd place fic from my mini poll! not my best work LOL, but i think this is one of my favorite fics i've written (so far). i've had this in drafts for about a year or so as well...

one

It was safe to say that even a nanosecond of interacting with Anakin Skywalker made your blood boil.

He knew just how to push all your buttons and you hated it. How could one person exist for seemingly one purpose only—to piss you off—you didn’t understand it and weren’t sure if you ever would. “Loyal Jedi” my ass.

If you were the first person to speak up during meetings, he was also the first to counter your points and shoot you down. If you were late to meals in the mess hall, he took the last roll of bread, so you’d have to wait an extra half hour for more to come out. If you were dueling together, he would always point out every microscopic flaw in your technique. You were sure that your head would explode at any moment by his existence alone.

This is so ridiculous—you’re ridiculous.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Anakin glanced at you in his peripheral vision. “Don’t be mad because my plan worked, and yours didn’t. There’s this thing called accepting defeat.”

“Just because I don’t do things the way you do doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

“They’re not wrong, but they’re not safe. You can’t declare safety compromisation a success. There’s a clear difference between the two.”

You scoffed. “Since when did you, out of all people, account for safety?”

“I should be asking you the same thing.”

“You’re not answering my question.”

“And you’re not answering mine, either.” He reaches behind his ear and turns his comms on. “Now are we going to head home or what?”

“Aye aye, General,” you responded sarcastically, rolling your eyes. “Let’s embark on the journey of a lifetime.”

Awkward silence pierces the air like a dozen tiny needles, but you’ll take it over arguing with a wall any day. You knew what you were fighting for and why. You were confident in your actions and believed you always stood on the right side.

Except, he didn’t.

It was a quick two day recon and you got the job done in half the allotted time. In and out faster than you could blink. Of course, Anakin would find fault in that one way or another…and he did. You got caught as you were escaping…dragging the mission duration out by an extra day.

Granted, you were only delayed by a few hours, but it was enough to upset him. You couldn’t even feel the ropes digging into your wrists after hour two, anyway. But from the moment he broke in and saw the first speck of blood on you, a look of fury flashed across his eyes. I’d be surprised if he had even half a heart under all that thick skin, you grumbled to yourself. He’ll slice at anything that moves.

“You know—” Anakin’s voice breaks through the tension-filled air. He wants to say something else, but the words get stuck in the back of his throat and his tongue goes numb.

“I don’t care.” You pick at your scabbing wounds, not caring that they’re starting to sting and peel all over again. Before he can catch you doing so, you tug your sleeves over them and grit your teeth. “We got the job done, Skywalker, that’s all that matters.”

two

Maybe it was time to stop trying to commit mass murder on the punching bags. They weren’t going to do anything except break after two minutes of merciless attacks.

Hopefully…you wouldn’t get in trouble for the glass vase that happened to get in your path. Nobody ever bothered to wander to the west wing of the Temple often enough to notice, anyway.

As you clenched and unclenched your fists, the cracks in your knuckles slowly started to stretch out like thin, red spiderwebs. The dots of brilliant ruby seemed to glitter among the pristine flooring—almost like they were meant to be there from the start.

With every shard you threw away, the cracks and fury dug themselves further into your skin, threatening to explode.

You didn’t even need to look up afterward to know his scalding gaze was on you again.

“Are you trying to get an infection?”

“Fuck off.”

He ignored your biting reply and kneeled down to clean up the mess. Once he was done, he stood back up and grabbed you by the wrist, leading you down the hall to his quarters.

As soon as he sat you down at the edge of his bed, you shot him a death glare. “What in Force’s name is your problem?”

“My problem,” Anakin replied, “is that you’re about to bleed all over the place. Let me help.”

“I don’t need fixing, Skywalker,” you snapped. “It’s just a cut.”

Anakin raised a brow at you, then looked down at your hands. “Too bad, I think you do. Broken glass will buryinto places you don’t expect.”

“Then you’re severely underestimating what I’m capable of. So let me go,” you snapped, jerking your wrist out of his grip. You unfortunately did this too fast, and hissed in pain as a result. “I’m fine.”

Sighing, the young Jedi reaches for the bacta pads next to him and works carefully to patch you up. He pretends not to notice the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. Or the way you pick at the skin by your thumb, or the way your left foot taps the floor in a nervous rhythm. He pretends not to notice everything you do, but you’re everywhere. It frustrates him because he can’t escape.

“Why do I have a feeling that exterminating the centuries-old vase of magic and splendor wasn’t in your original plan?”

“I was,” your voice wavers, fingers twitching. He notices this, too. “Leave me be.”

Shadows of the late afternoon light dance across the bridge of your nose, and he lets himself stare for a bit longer than normal. And…being who you two are, neither of you realize the fact.

“You can go now, if you want,” he finally says after the sun begins descending into the horizon. “But make sure not to overexert yourself again.”

You don’t move. You stay there; quietly sitting in the middle of his room with glistening cheeks. Anakin doesn’t bother asking you to leave a second time.

A fallen angel trapped in an endless prison; a halo and fractured wings that rendered her unable to fly. And yet, amidst all that death and despair, nothing could mar her beauty.

He feels those same little spiderwebs running through his palms, and he feels them shorten. Just a little bit.

three

The halls of the Temple were eerily quiet early in the morning. You would expect more Jedi to be up before the sun rose, but today, all activity had seemed to stop. Gathering the ends of your cloak into your arms, you made a careful climb up onto the rooftops to watch the sunrise.

It seemed like you weren’t the only one who had this in mind, though.

“The hell are you doing at this hour?”

“I could ask you the same exact thing,” Anakin replied as he stood up and turned around to face you. “You’re going to fall.”

“I’m fine, don’t—” You let out a small squeak as you lose your footing and slip. Luckily, though, he catches you in time by wrapping an arm around your waist and holding on tight. Fire shoots through your veins at the feeling of him pressed up against you. “Let go of me, Skywalker!”

Once he leads you to where you can get more stable footing, he lets you go. But even then, there’s a hand that hovers over the small of your back.

Brilliant bursts of sunlight stream over the horizon and wash over the world in pale red and pink. It stops you from saying something snarky to Anakin because you’re speechless at the breathtaking sight above.

“I have…something for you,” he clears his throat. “—And don’t hit me. I’m not trying to poison you.”

“Okay…?”

He reaches into his cloak pocket and pulls out what appears to be jewelry of some kind.

“How many innocent beings did you kill to get this? Please don’t tell me it was smuggled. Or that you robbed someone for it. I can’t keep something like that.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Do you…like it?”

You paused and took one good look at the necklace in his hand. It had to be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen in all twenty years of living, and even that was an understatement. A teardrop-shaped, deep vermillion stone encased by tiny, glittering jewels—it was as if he had captured the stormclouds himself. It was perfect—too perfect, almost.

Your voice came out in a whisper. “It’s so pretty.”

He takes a careful step to stand behind you in response. His fingers brush against your neck as he puts the necklace on, and fireworks explode behind your eyes.

Without another word, you turn towards him and rest your chin on his shoulder. He pulls you closer, and your heart feels a little fuller than before.

four

The warzone was an ugly place.

If hell was a real thing, this had to be it. The sky is bleeding red and each burst of lightning splits it further apart, the smell of death swirling around with the debris. Battle droids push forward in a stampede and you try your best to ignore the sickening crunch of bone beneath their metal feet. You squeeze your eyes shut as you tighten your hold around your lightsaber and pray to every god out there in the universe because war was cruel and mean and you just wanted to go home and sleep forever because anything, absolutely anything, was better than the suffering you were having to endure now.

When the shot originally meant for Anakin hits you in the side, you’re unable to fully comprehend the pain because your brain won’t let you. You force yourself to keep going. Pain was temporary…you’d deal with the aftermath later. You could afford to.

What feels like hours passes by and the gunfire doesn’t stop. The incessant ringing in your ears is something you’ve forced yourself to grow accustomed to.

“Y/N!” Anakin’s voice manages to cut through the howling winds. “You need to—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before a grenade detonates near you and throws you against the walls. A searing pain shoots through your body at the impact and the world tilts on its axis. Scarlet seeps into your tear-stained vision and suddenly, the whole world is drenched in blood.

This was it…

If you were going to die now, it would be as far from pretty as you could possibly get.

It’s another slow few minutes before he finally finds you slumped against the stone. Somehow, you manage to shoot him a small smile before wincing. “Took you long enough to get here.”

“You…”

“Oh, wow, I’ve been shot,” you let out a dry laugh, pressing a hand over your wound. The color immediately drained from his face as he saw blood seeping through your fingers. “That’s a whole lot of red.”

He crouches down next to you to assess your state, pressing the commlink in his ear as he does so. “Why is it that you’re always getting hurt?”

“My middle name is Trouble, that’s why.” You cough, and more red drips down your lips. “Trouble follows me around wherever I go.”

“It’s not fair,” Anakin mumbled under his breath, applying pressure to your torso as you wince again. “I’m supposed to be jumping in front of bullets for you and getting close to being blown up, not the other way around.”

“I decided that your massive ego needed a little break so I took the workload for you,” you snarked. “Happy now, Skywalker?”

For the first time ever, he doesn’t bite back with an equally sarcastic response. You don’t question it. “No. I’m not.”

The returning journey's dead silent, save for your labored breathing due to your cracked ribs. You try to sit up, but he places a firm hand on your shoulder to keep you from moving.

“I told you I’m fine—”

“You need to rest,” he exhales, the distress and tiredness evident in his eyes. “Please.”

“Okay…”

Wordlessly, Anakin reaches over to cup his hands over yours and and brings them to his lips. A pleasant sense of warmth overtakes you and you can almost pretend like the ship’s heater isn't broken and you’re melting, little by little. And if you look closer, you can see clusters of galaxies and shooting stars behind his steel blue eyes. The thought alone comforts you and starts to lull you to sleep.

His eyes shift to the necklace; the gemstone sits still against your sternum as your chest rises and falls. Beauty among chaos. He wonders every day how such stark differences can coexist in a peaceful manner.

“For what it’s worth,” he murmurs long after you’ve drifted off, “I never really hated you.”

five

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You placed your hands on your hips as you observed the pitiful scene before you. The Jedi Order could host extravagant events and use expensive artillery and clones, but wouldn’t account for comfortable sleeping accommodations. Making a mental note to politely complain to Master Windu, you let out a long sigh.

“If I stretch out, I’ll fall off,” Anakin pointed out as he too stared at the small queen bed (you were sure it was a twin, though).

“I’d fall off, too.”

“You know what…I’ll take the floor. I don’t want to hear you complaining about back pain in the morning.”

He was about to take his pillow and toss it to the floor before you grabbed his wrist. “Are you nuts? I can’t let you do that.”

“Then what do you want me to do?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know, share the bed without kicking me in the middle of the night?”

Both of you stopped and stared at each other at this.

“The audacity you have to say that when you’re the kicker…” Anakin began.

“I’m using the bathroom first.” You pushed past him to go wash up. “Don’t be a bed hog, Skywalker.”

Minutes later, you’re both settled in under the covers and have fallen into a comfortable silence. The only things you can hear are the crickets chirping outside and Anakin’s steady breathing. If you ignored the fact that you were on a mission and crammed into an incredibly tiny motel room, you could imagine that this was a peaceful weekend getaway to some tropical planet.

You’re the first one to break the silence and speak up. “Do you wonder when the war will end? Or if it’ll end at all?”

“All the time.” He rolls over on his side to face you. “And what I’d do afterwards.”

“Where would you go?”

Anakin hums for a moment before responding. “I don’t know. You?”

“I’d go back to Naboo. To the lakes, where the water is so clear you can see your future, and the roses are redder than your face under the summer sun. Padme would take me there all the time when we were younger.”

“I think I’d follow you, then.”

“But there’s sand, and lots of it,” you laughed. “Are you sure?”

“I’d be willing to bear its coarse, rough, and irritating qualities for you. Only once, though. I have my limits.”

Your heart warms at the mini confession. “I wish we could just end everything now. Call off the troops, sign a few treaties or something…end the war. I’m tired of the violence and bloodshed. I know everyone else is too.”

“I know.”

Anakin’s hand finds its way into yours, and the tension in your shoulders slowly unravels as your fingers lace with his.

And all the cracked and bleeding crevices on your skin start healing the longer you lean into his touch. It’s like he has a needle and spool of thread in hand, and he’s slowly but surely stitching you back together.

plus one

The giant metropolis of Coruscant had gone quiet under blankets of snow—it was a sight unlike any other. You hadn’t seen a speck of snow hit since you stepped foot onto the Jedi Temple as a child.

You stood alone in the hangar bay with bated breath and reddened, frostbitten fingers. Like you’d dipped them in blood before letting them dry for a bit.. He had to be here any minute now; you didn’t want him to return and not have anyone to welcome him back. So despite the subzero temperatures and barely-healing knuckles, you remained in place.

When his ship touches down and he hops out with a wide smile, you can feel a giant weight being lifted off your chest. He jogs toward you and brings you in for a crushing embrace, and for once, you finally feel at home.

“It’s freezing. What are you doing here?” He’s sweating, even though he looks like he should be cold. “You should’ve headed inside.”

“I waited for you, what else would I be doing?”

Anakin grins again and hugs you even tighter. “I missed you. More than anything.”

Your heart suddenly starts to ache at his admission and that’s when the realization kicks in. “I thought I lost you, Anakin. You could’ve died. I couldn’t sleep for three days after I lost your signal. And yet you’re standing here acting like it’s no big deal because at least you’re alive and in one piece.”

“Y/N…”

A chill runs down your spine and you know in that moment that it has nothing to do with the weather. You knew this wasn’t right; you weren’t supposed to be doing this, but it felt more natural than anything you’d ever done.

That’s when you find an Anakin-shaped shard of glass wedged deep in your heart and you don’t know how it found its way there, but you don’t even bother pulling it out. Glass splinters are supposed to be these jagged, disfigured things, but this one is beautiful and even shines amongst the rubble. It’ll bury its way into places you don’t expect. With the way he fits against your body, you can’t help but feel like he was meant to fill the gaping hole in your heart. So wholly, so perfectly without a single scratch or flaw.

You look up at him and feel your breath get caught in your throat. Since when did he make you so nervous?

He’s even closer now and so are you, so you press your mouth to his as if doing so would save you from falling apart. Your brain short-circuits, and as you sink into the sudden burst of warmth you realize you don’t want this to end.

“Took you long enough,” he mumbles against your skin as you pull apart. “I was starting to wonder when…”

“Shut up. Don’t ruin the moment,” you muttered before bringing your hand to his cheek and kissing him a second time. He doesn’t object and tightens his hold around you, and a fire spreads through you from head to toe.

“I love you,” Anakin says after a while. “Even though you like sand, and I don’t.”

“I knew that already,” you joked with a smile and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. “You’re not exactly the most subtle person ever.”

“Neither are you,” he chuckles.

“But I love you too.”

tags, including people who may be interested: @arkofblake @dameronology @fl0ating @voguesir @lady-elena-adeline @aliciaasky @katelynnwrites @freeshavocadoooo @buckysbeloved @kelieah @kaleidoscope1967eyes @lam-ila @unstablecaffeinatedmind @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface

add yourself to the general taglist/top gun specific taglist !

#anakin skywalker x reader #star wars fic #star wars imagine #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin x reader #anakin x you #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker fic

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bonebrokebuddy · 3 months

Text

I’ve been seeing a few folks complain about people writing hcs of DC characters with ooc song preferences, which it’s not that serious. But it gives me an excuse to show off my DC character playlists.

I initially created them as I saw a lot of playlists for Bruce & Jason with just a lot of dad rock.

Which, fair. Not everyone’s into metal.

But since I know it’s not an easy genre to get into, if you want inspiration, feel free to check out these playlists!

My one main rule for making playlists is that a majority, if not all, of the songs need to be in a genre I think the character would listen to based on their canon music taste. This is regardless whether or not it’s a genre I like. I try my best to find fun songs regardless of my personal preference.

The Playlists:

Batman: various genres of metal. I tried to go for more Doom Metal(slow & repetitive vs thrash’s blast beats and fast guitar) but there’s more than one genre of metal that’s characterized by slower instrumentals & I can’t keep up with all the names so it varies. Dad metal. Made sure that there was a sprinkle of Black Metal too (mainly bc I think it’s funny. If you’ve never listened to black metal, it sounds like you chucked the vocalist in a grinder at high speeds then proceeded to mix your instruments & your vocals the worst you could possibly make it. It’s nearly incomprehensible and it’s Perfect for Bruce.)

Bruce Wayne: a touch of old school doom metal, a sprinkle of black metal as you can write a Batman story without Bruce Wayne but not a Bruce Wayne story without Batman. A more chill version of the Batman playlist that I think Bruce would jam out to as not everyone’s into metal and I wanted to give people another option that didn’t have as heavy stuff in it.

Tim Drake: Mostly time accurate with 90s-2010’s punk rock & alt rock influences all the way through with a touch of metal to show his connection to Bruce & a few other off genre songs that represent his YJ98 pals. I tried my best to include as many bands as I could find that he canonically enjoyed as well.

Jason Todd: Jason was introduced in the 80s & is a canonical metalhead, so I think he’d listen to a combination of 80s dad metal, death metal (come on, it’s just too perfect of a genre name to pass up), thrash, & a little black metal (the genre I assigned to Batman).

Clark Kent: Dad metal. He canonically listens to Metallica post-crisis so I just gave him my dad’s taste in music lmao. Made sure to add a few satire ones because Clark is an little shit and would very much enjoy satire songs. Unfortunately, I genuinely could not get my Spotify recs to give me decent country music. I tried. It only gave me modern mainstream artists and after a month of trying to find good pre 2000’s country, I just gave up. So it’s mainly metal:(

If any of y’all want to send me 80s-2000’s country recs, that would be very kind of y’all. (the type of country music ma & pa kent would listen to that Clark would have grown up with)

Kon-El: is full of songs that are, well, time accurate to his original run. Ranging from 1969-2002 [the year his solo run was canceled], this playlist not only has songs he could have theoretically picked up in a record shop or blasted on a boom box during the day but is also full of bands he canonically listens to! This playlist is chalk full of Kon’s canonical alt rock & metal music taste as well as rock and proto-metal hits of the time!

Bart Allen: to be clear, Bart wouldn’t listen to any of these as music is just too slow for him. These are songs that relate to Bart or songs that represent his connections to his friends with no specific genre as I didn’t just want to have playlists full of nothing but metal. (Although I think he’d really like metal concerts as he’d probably enjoy the feeling of the heavy base resonate in his chest.)

#dc #batman #bruce wayne #clark kent #superman #jason todd #tim drake #red robin #bart allen #impulse dc #kon el #red hood #bones playlists #bones speaks #my only rule with sharing these is that they needed to be over an hour long. almost all my other ones were like- 34 minutes long #so I skipped those bc I have sooo many m

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formulauno98 · 4 months

Text

Waking Up In Vegas | Chapter Three

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction, no-one is taken in this alt-universe.

As you finished breakfast with Fernando, you were relieved to find that the atmosphere had shifted from tense to somewhat cooperative. You had a plan in place, you would meet him in the team hospitality area in the paddock in an hour to discuss the situation with his agent and publicist and potentially release a statement before the race. Then after the race, you would head back to the chapel together and sign the papers to get your marriage formerly annulled.

Having bid farewell to Fernando, who insisted on booking you a taxi to go the one block across the strip back to your hotel, you couldn't shake the surreal feeling of the morning. Marrying a stranger in Vegas was one thing, but marrying a famous Formula One driver? That was on another level. You had never been a big drinker nor a party girl and even going out in Vegas felt out of character.

Hastily exiting the cab, you made quick work crossing the gaudy lobby of The Venetian Hotel, weaving through the slot machines of the casino towards the elevators back to your suite. The casino was surprisingly busy for a Sunday morning and your head continued to pound as you were bombarded by the jangling noises of people winning and losing. Breakfast had helped alleviate your hangover somewhat but you were dreading the noise that you knew would accompany the race later that day.

You also couldn’t help but feel paranoid that eyes were on you, despite the fact that you came across several other patrons who looked bleary-eyed and worse for wear, still wearing last night’s party looks. Shaking the thought, you were relieved to reach the elevators, flashing your room key to the security guard who promptly let you through.

—

Finally, back in your suite and reunited with your friends, you quickly freshened up and changed into something more appropriate for the paddock. You had originally planned for a fancy outfit but given the circumstances you opted for something more lowkey, finding a plain tee and jeans, hoping to blend in as much as possible. The last thing you wanted was to attract more attention.

Fernando had been kind enough to organise paddock passes for you and your three friends, knowing that you would not want to face this situation alone and feeling guilty that your race weekend experience was somewhat ruined. Luckily your friends were eager to join you, if not sceptical about Fernando’s intentions.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" asked your friend Jess as you all walked towards the paddock entrance.

"Yeah, we don't even know this guy," added Lisa, glancing around warily.

"I know," you said, taking a deep breath. "But we need to handle this carefully. Fernando's publicist thinks the best way is to control the narrative. If you’d rather go to the grandstand I fully understand.”

"No, don’t be silly, we're here for you," said Megan, giving you a reassuring squeeze on the arm. "Just be careful, okay?"

As the four of you arrived at the busy paddock entrance, the hustle and bustle of the pre-race activities were in full swing. Crew members in team uniforms zipped past, carrying equipment and chatting into headsets, already in work mode.

Reaching the gates, you flashed your pass on the electric reader and were granted access into a world you never thought you’d get a glimpse of. If only it had been in different circumstances. Walking down the paddock, you looked around for the familiar Aston Martin green. Fernando had given you strict instructions on how to find the Aston Martin team hospitality area and you quickly spotted it, halfway down the strip. In a twist of cruel irony, it was next door to the paddock wedding chapel, seemingly a Vegas special that only served to remind you of last night’s poor decisions.

Approaching the small veranda, you spotted an older woman standing there with her arms folded. Fernando had told you that his publicist would be there waiting so you hoped that it was her.

“Hi,” you said, “I’m here for Fernando. Are you Elena by any chance?” you asked, a little intimidated by her.

“Yes,” she said, looking you up and down as you made your introductions, “Please, follow me,” she said, gesturing inside the metal doors beside her. Turning to your friends, she gestured at a table in the team hospitality area, “If you’d like you are welcome to wait here, and please help yourself to some breakfast or coffee. Make yourself at home.”

Your friends looked a little apprehensive but seemed happy enough with the arrangement, “If you need anything you know where we are,” said Megan, looking at Elena with a certain degree of suspicion.

“Thanks, I’ll see you soon,” you said, grateful that they were close by if needed as you continued to follow Elena as she led you through another set of doors to a private area where Fernando was waiting, already in his racing suit.

“Hey,” you said, somewhat awkwardly, barely able to meet Fernando’s eye.

“Hi.” he said kindly, “How are you?”

“Good.” was all you managed, suddenly feeling very out of your comfort zone, “How are you? I’m so sorry to bother you on race day.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s not a bother.” said Fernando, his grin starting to unnerve you, “Elena is going to help us.”

"Yes, alright here's the plan," Elena began, her tone efficient. "We'll release a statement saying you two are deeply in love, and that last night was an impulsive but heartfelt decision. Emphasise that it came from love. Keep it vague but positive."

You nodded, feeling the weight of the situation settle on your shoulders. Fernando gave you a reassuring smile, but you could see the tension in his eyes. This was as much a gamble for him as it was for you. He interjected, "What happens if this all blows up? What’s the plan B?"

Elena met Fernando's gaze with a calm response, "We handle it as it comes. Right now, the best course of action is to present a united front and take control of the story."

“Great, thank you,” Fernando replied, a steely look still present in his eyes. “What do you think?” he asked, taking you by surprise as he turned for your opinion.

“You’re the experts. Like I said, I’ll do whatever you need,” you said meekly.

“Thank you,” said Fernando and Elena in unison, their relief palpable.

“Here is the official statement, have a read and tell me that you are agreeable,” said Elena, handing you an official-looking letterhead.

For Immediate Release - Fernando Alonso

I am delighted to share some exciting personal news with you. Last night, Y/N and I celebrated our love with an impulsive but heartfelt wedding ceremony. It was a spontaneous decision that felt right in the moment and we are both incredibly happy.

We have discovered a deep connection and are committed to taking things one step at a time, cherishing each moment together. Our love for each other is strong and we are looking forward to seeing where this journey takes us.

We appreciate your understanding and support as we embark on this new chapter in our lives. Thank you for respecting our privacy and for sharing in our happiness.

With love,

Fernando and Y/N

You gulped as you read it over. It was saccharine and over the top, but you trusted Elena to have kept the tone authentic to the press’ expectations. “That’s fine by me,” you said bluntly, feeling out of your depth.

“Great.” said Elena, clapping her hands together, “Now, can we take a photo of you together to accompany the memo? We have your wedding photo too.”

Glancing at Fernando, who now appeared to share your awkward demeanour, he replied somewhat uncomfortably, “Sure, if you feel it is necessary.”

“Yes, I think it is. The press will be curious and if you don’t release a photo, they will hound every woman within a fifty-mile radius.” Elena said bluntly.

A man you hadn’t noticed appeared with a camera and a small light pack, eager to capture the moment.

“Okay, is it okay if I put your arm around you?” asked Fernando sweetly.

“Sure,” you said, nervous about being in such close proximity to him as he reached his arm around your shoulders.

“Smile guys! You’re newlyweds.” said the photographer with a wink, using his free hand to push you closer together.

Sidling up to Fernando you smiled as widely as you could and hoped that you were selling the love story.

“Beautiful.” said Elena, once again clapping her hands together before producing another piece of paper, “Now. None of this goes further than here. Ok? I have an NDA for you to sign.”

“No problem,” you said, knowing that hopefully, this wouldn’t be the first form you’d be filling in today.

As you quickly signed and handed the paper back to Elena, she was already typing furiously on her phone. "Thank you, this will be out in a few minutes. Now, Fernando, focus on the race. Y/N, I will show you to the corporate hospitality suite above the garage. I'll make sure you and your friends are comfortable."

With that, Fernando was whisked away without another word to you, leaving you alone with your thoughts as you made your way back to your friends who were sitting patiently waiting and sipping their coffees.

“If you’d all like to follow me, I will show you to where you can watch the race,” said Elena kindly, “There will be more drinks there but feel free to bring those along.”

———

Elena having shown you across the paddock to the corporate hospitality suite, you were now installed in a plush group of chairs, the buzz of the race preparations from the garage below a constant background noise. Surrounded by your friends, you finally felt a little calmer, even when they were voicing their concerns about what had just happened.

"I don't like this," Lisa said in a low voice, her arms crossed. "What if they try to pin everything on you if the press find out it was just a drunken mistake?"

"She's right," Jess agreed. "We need to make sure you’re protected too."

"I know," you said, feeling a lump in your throat. "But Fernando seems sincere. He’s just as caught off guard as we are. Let's see how this plays out."

Fortunately, as the Grand Prix was getting underway shortly, the press had not yet reacted to the statement and you had some time to process, however as the race began, you felt a knot of anxiety in your stomach.

You were starting to understand just how high the stakes were for Fernando. This wasn't just a sport, it was his life, his career, his passion and public interest in his personal life was the downside to travelling the world and driving fast cars. Anyone else could laugh off a drunk Vegas wedding but he had to protect his public image, his brand. Sponsorship deals were tied to his public persona and one slip-up could cost serious money.

Making your way out to the balcony to watch the race start, you hung over the railing to see how Fernando would fare. The sound of engines roaring and tyres screeching filled the air as the lights went out and the grid came alive.

To your dismay, Fernando didn't have a great start. His reaction was far slower than the cars around him and he dropped four positions before the first corner. You felt a pang of guilt, wondering if the morning's drama had affected his performance.

To make matters worse, as Fernando roared around the track below you, the press started to run his statement. Elena had come by to warn you and sure enough, as those nearby were alerted of the news of Fernando Alonso's surprise Vegas wedding, you could feel more and more pairs of curious eyes on you, recognising you from the two photos that had been shared.

As the race settled down, your phone started to buzz with notifications as journalists quickly updated their headlines to "Fernando Alonso Marries in Impulsive Las Vegas Ceremony" and "Alonso's Surprise Wedding: A New Chapter for the F1 Star." You cringed as one particular commentator tweeted speculating about how this personal development might be affecting Fernando’s performance, debating the timing of a raucous wedding the night before a critical race.

Elena came by once more as reporters were contacting her, seeking interviews to learn more about you. “For real?” you asked, “I’m a nobody, why would they want to interview me?”

“You’re not a nobody, you’re Mrs Alonso,” mused Elena, “And don’t worry, I will turn them down on your behalf.”

“Thank you, Elena,” you said, looking at your friends exasperatedly. The situation was pure chaos, and the race was going on all the while, Fernando oblivious to the situation.

It wasn’t just the mainstream press, the news had hit social media and hashtags like #AlonsoWedding and #MrandMrsAlonso were starting to trend as fans expressed their excitement. Fans' curiosity about the timeline of your “relationship” led to a flurry of speculation, with the photo from the wedding and that morning being dissected for clues.

Tearing your eyes away from your phone, you turned your attention back to the track. Unfortunately, Fernando was struggling to make up the lost ground and had you sat on the edge of your seat, chewing your nails and hoping for a miracle.

"He's not doing well," Megan observed quietly, "Do you think this morning freaked him out?"

"Maybe," you admitted, feeling your anxiety spike. "I just hope he can pull through, it’s not like he can see the headlines yet."

“True,” said Jess, “Although what weird timing to release a statement.”

Your friends nodding in agreement, you repeated what Elena had told you earlier, “Apparently the idea is that the story will get buried in race news, get minimal attention but still serve the purpose of not making Fernando look like a drunk idiot.”

Looking unconvinced, Jess replied, “I’m not sure about that.”

Hoping your friend was wrong, you silently willed Fernando to overtake his opponents, but unfortunately, today was just not his day. When the race ended, Fernando had only managed to secure a measly P9. It was far from his usual performance and you knew he would be furious.

As you watched Fernando exit his car, his frustration evident, you felt concerned. The morning’s events had ultimately affected his performance. He looked livid and you were not looking forward to meeting him back in the team hospitality area and going to the chapel together to sign the annulment.

———

Gathering your friends, you made your way back down the stairs and across the paddock to where you’d met Fernando and Elena this morning, feeling somewhat jittery knowing that you would have to face the angry racing driver once he’d completed his media commitments.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before he breezed in, barely acknowledging anyone. When he finally spotted you, his eyes were blazing. He stalked over, his anger palpable.

"Follow me," he hissed, keeping his voice low but his tone sharp, gesturing for you to follow him once more through the double doors.

Getting up, you shot your friends a look, their eyes filled with concern, “I’ll be back ASAP.” and bid them goodbye as you made your way behind Fernando.

Once through the double doors, the fiery Spaniard let rip. "This is your fault. I couldn't focus all race because of this mess." His eyes were wild and his usual charm was gone.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You felt a rush of emotions—anger, guilt, defensiveness—all at once. But before you could gather your thoughts, Fernando took a deep breath, his expression softening slightly.

"I'm sorry," he said, running a hand through his wavy brown hair. "I shouldn't blame you. It's just... a lot. Elena showed me the headlines after the race. Some people think I’m a drunk idiot, some are calling me a legend. It’s not the best. I work so hard to maintain a positive image and this kind of story can be career-altering. My boss wants to meet with me later to discuss it."

You nodded, feeling a lump in your throat. "I understand. It's been a crazy day. But we're in this together, remember? I’ve read stories calling me a gold-digger, an escort and a nobody. It’s not been the best."

He gave a small, rueful smile. "I am sorry. It is my fault.”

“No it’s not,” you said, awkwardly patting him on the shoulder, “We both got ourselves into this mess, we need to both get out of it.”

“Agreed.” said Fernando, “Do you want to have some coffee before we go to the chapel? My room is just through here.”

A little surprised at his offer, you decided it would be wise to talk some more. You hardly knew this man but if the world thought you two were deeply in love, in love enough to elope in Vegas, you figured it might be time to get to know him.

“Sure,” you replied, following him through another smaller door, not sure what to expect.

Taglist: @flippittygibbitts@graciewrote@lirikonjaa@hc-dutch

#f1 x reader #fernando alonso fic #fernando alonso #f1 fanfic #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x female reader #wakingupinvegas

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ebonysplendor · 4 months

Note

Do you have a review of The Kid At The Back?

O_O;

Pfft...of course I do! What? You thought I just had it downloaded and in my "Play Later" stash for the past 2 - 3 months with the full intention of playing it and writing a review, just for it to never happen? Of course not~! Just to prove it to you, I will insert the entire thing right here, no links needed! And no, it's not because I didn't have it written until now, so don't think that! ANYWAYS.

TL;DR: I'm not worried about if this man is at the back. My question and only concern is can he hit it from the back?

Game Link: https://fantasia-kittcat.itch.io/the-kid-at-the-back-demo

Notable Features: Yandere LI, Custom Pronouns, Self-Insert (first and last name), Two LIs, 1+ Hour Long Demo Spiciness: 2/5 or 5/5 -- It depends on which version you get. If you get the regular degular free version, it'll be more innocent with some flirtiness here and there. If you pay for the NSFW version, it'll be way more sinful and the way that the Gods intended it to be. LI Red Flags: 4/5 -- Breaking-and-entering, possessive, drugged us, lack of consent; the usual stuff, but I can fix him

Wanna know more? Pfft, not if you aren't in the 18+ club you don't. Yes, that's even with nothing explicit popping off in the demo. So go on, get away. Oh? You're at least 18? Well, what are we waiting for?! Let's get into it!

...Okay, so I may or may not have completely lied about having this review written, but I mean, so what?! I'm making the review now, aren't I?! Cut a girl some slack!

Lol actually, all jokes aside, this gave me the push that I needed to go on and get it done. I've honestly been meaning to play this game for a hot minute now, but other things caught my immediate attention, and this kept getting pushed further and further back. All that matters now is that I've finally played it, I'm making the review, and we are here together as a squad.

Now, with that being said...

I find it extremely disrespectful that I waited so long to play this masterpiece; what was I thinking?

The story, so far, has me in an absolute chokehold, and I absolutely hate that it's only the demo because I want to know now. I am all over this story right now, and the dev is going all the way in with no remorse.

Not to mention, the LI -- or at least the one that I'm simping for, because there's two this time -- is just so damned good looking. What's even more attractive is that he doesn't play into the whole edge lord stereotype like some people we know. He's actually a pretty sweet guy so far! He has psycho tendencies, for sure, but a sweet guy overall!

Just as a side note, I have always had the weakest spot for a guy in alt/goth/emo/grunge -- all of that -- fashion. Like, the attraction that I have is ungodly, and I just...like, it's disrespectful how attractive I find them. Now, I want you to imagine our yandere LI...but with tattoos. When I tell you that I'd be ruined?!

Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch.

When I say ready to submit?! When I say ready to turn into the absolute best baby girl?

*Ahem*

Okay, now that I've got my degeneracy out a little bit, I'm going to start giving you a summary of the game so that you can be as absolutely geeked -- and in love with this man -- as much as I am. The game is really good, and like I said, the story is damned interesting thus far. Anyways, I'm going to stop yapping so I can start telling you about the game. Like always, I am going to tell you as much about the game as possible without ruining the game itself. That being said, let's finally get into it.

So boom.

Literature class is over, and we're getting our anime protagonist on. We're dramatically looking out the window thinking about how it's going to rain, and how it was super unfortunate that we hadn't brought an umbrella. ... Damn.

...Okay, well anyways! Now that we've had our main character complex solidified, we get up, and one of the members of the squad inquire about lunch before another one comes up behind them. Now, we aren't too worried about them anymore because we're looking at him.

Jericho "Crowe" Ichabod.

Classroom representative, close friend, and an absolute snack. While he has an anime antagonist aesthetic to him, he has the vibe of the supporting character and love interest of the anime protag, ya feel me? Like, we are feeling this man.

After we're done thinking about how much we simp over this man on the low, we respectfully reject the offer to go to lunch and instead hit the library, anticipating that addictive smell of books and coffee. Besides, we've got a paper to work on, so why not? We get our stuff, and we head in that direction.

Now, everyone knows about having unassigned assigned spaces, right? You know that whole thing when you get so used to sitting in a particular seat, or having a certain parking spot, or always studying in a particular room, so you just always gravitate towards it and kind've make this unsaid claim on it? Well, we have an unassigned assigned seat by this window in the library, and some bitch took it right as we were going towards it. How are we supposed to feed into our main character syndrome, if we don't have the window seat?

Whatever though. We're lowkey pissy about it, but we decided to let the kid have their moment. Everyone deserves their own episode, ya feel? We go find another seat.

Since this is the library and all, we start browsing the shelves to find a book for a little leisure reading. Was this the initial choice? No, but we weren't really trying to involuntarily focus on the fact that we got stuck sitting around all the gossiping "peaked-in-high-school" students. Shout out to that bitch who took our seat earlier. Your mom's a hoe, and I hope someone punches you in the face. Either that or you get in a knife fight. Either is good, just don't sit in my damned unassigned assigned seat anymore.

It gets worse though, because we can't even look for a book in peace. There's this loud ass thud from the book shelf right next to us, and whoever knocked into it hit it hard enough that some of the books almost came off the shelf. Of course, we've got to investigate the cause of this, so we try to catch a peek through a gap on the bookshelf and...it's honestly typical.

Remember when I told you about the "peaked-in-high-school" students? Well, we found another set on the other side of the bookshelf. These two students were harassing this other student for, what sounds like, no apparent reason. The situation escalates pretty quickly before one of the bullies absolutely knocks that other student's shit in. We just kind've wince because, damn that's tough...but, meh, it's not our business. The other bully then proceeds to pull out a pocket knife. Well, damn, I guess it's our business...

We jump in.

Lol don't get it twisted, though. We didn't do much, but we did do enough to get them to go away, which mattered more than anything because this guy was definitely about to end up in a hospital bed.

We help this poor, unfortunate soul up, and...gah damn, he's tall. Lol imagine my 5'2.5 -- 5'3 on a good day -- self helping this 6ft tall man up. Sheeeeeeeeesh. He should've curb stomped their asses, because he's gotta be rocking at least a size 14 shoe.

Anyways, I guess he kind've said "fuck us" though, because we were like "Nurse's office?" and he was like "Nah" and just straight dipped out after that. No "thank you", no nothin', and-- wait.

THIS BITCH WAS THE ONE SITTING IN OUR UNASSIGNED ASSIGNED SEAT. We know this, because he went and got his stuff from over there and then bolted out of the library! Well, that explained the punch to the face and the pocket knife. Honestly? Good look, universe.

Okay, okay, okay, enough jokes; let's get on with the rest of the story (kinda because avoiding huge spoilers).

We leave the library, too, after some more time goes by, and guess who's in our next class...

The bitch that stole our seat The guy from the library. Huh...never noticed him before this point, but that's probably because he sits at the very back of the room.

He must've noticed us, too, though, because when we make eye contact, he get's all flustered in the face and looks away.

Now, admittedly, after that encounter in the library, we're kind've curious about this kid, and, again, it's dope how the universe works sometimes because, for this class, we need a partner, and wouldn't you know it?

We don't have a partner, he doesn't have a partner, so we do as the Gods intended and pair up.

Contrary to how he looks, he actually isn't the tsundere of our cast.

He -- his name is Solivan Brugmansia, by the way; he likes to be called sunny Sol -- is actually a pretty okay dude!

He's not that stereotypical emo boy edgelord or that arrogant hard ass that thinks the people around him are idiots. He's actually pretty nice and legit doesn't mind our company; he's even open to seeing us outside of class just to casually hang out and talk. He's also pretty -- very, extremely... -- damned attractive, if you don't mind me throwing that in. Something else that I wanna throw in is that -- you remember when I mentioned that he rushed out without saying "thank you"? -- he said "thank you" and really appreciated us jumping in to help him.

Pretty grateful that he didn't make it to the knife fight portion of our threat. I would've never made that threat if I knew he was going to be this sweet of a guy.

Anyways, class gets out, we exchange numbers, and make mentions of hanging out in the future before parting ways for the day. We get back home, text some of our friends and the new bae, and eventually go to sleep for the next day to roll around.

As mentioned, the next day rolls around, and we're with the squad making lunch plans. While this is going on, we find new bae in the crowd of students in the hallway. Naturally, we call him over, but in hindsight, this was not the brightest idea. We didn't really account for the fact that OG bae and new bae were going to catch a bad vibe from each other.

And boi, did they catch a bad vibe. More accurately, they caught a "you're competition" vibe.

At this point they're sizing each other up, and it's like, please don't do that, because I'll take you both...then again, I am leaning more towards one than the other.

But it might get bad depending on whoever we pick, and we've definitely got to pick.

I have got to give the fattest shout out to whoever sent that anon message in, because they've pushed me to stand on business and play this game, and it was so worth it.

Honestly, where do I even start with this? The art style, the bae, the plot -- dear Gods the plot. I am so invested in this story! You'll understand once you play it for yourself, but it's like...what is going on?! What is going on behind closed doors? Why are things starting to get not so black and white? Like, I am extremely suspicious of the things that are going on in this game. Like, the dev(s) didn't have to go in on the art style and the story like that. Speaking of the art style...

Y'all know that I have a thing for the way that games look, and baby, I am in love. I love this whole "comic book" vibe that this game has going on. Like, I just love the shadows behind the characters and their designs and how they're written and just -- I honestly can't give you a clear depiction of how much I love the art style or exactly what about it I love, but I love it. I just love the style of this game, how it looks, and how it flows.

Anyways, I think this game is definitely worth it, and shit, based on what I managed to dig up and research, those $5 to unlock the sin is worth it. Not even because the CGs or the scenes that were made exclusively for the degenerates were revolutionary or anything, but because I really feel that this is going to be a great damned visual novel once it's complete, and it is so deserving of that monetary support. The amount of work that has already gone into this game in its demo stage is impressive, and I am super excited to see what else is in store. Like, I'm really trying to see what day 3 is about at this point, and I'm trying to get to the part where Sol starts clapping these cheeks. I will do a lot more than just research the NSFW scenes, I'm going to drop some cash to experience that firsthand. BRING ON THE OTHER 5 DAYS. MY BODY IS READY FOR IT!

But seriously, when is Sol going to start hitting it from the back...? And no, I ain't scratching it out this time! Y'all know what it is at this point! You know full well that I am a degenerate.

Lol okay, anyways, all jokes aside, that's it from me.

Like I said, I'm really excited for this full game to drop, and I will gladly spend the money for it whenever that time comes. That being said, I definitely recommend it. If you want the NSFW version, you do have to spend a minimum of $5 to unlock it; however, if you're low on cash, you're still able to play, but it'll be the SFW version -- both are really good either way, so don't let that deter you.

I'll go ahead and put a link for it right here so that you can head on over and get in on this amazingness. As I always like to remind people to do, once you get to the dev's page, leave them that ever warm "Yo, this shit is fire..." to give them some verbal validation, and if you're feeling really fancy, drop some financial validation, too. Either way, definitely play this game because it is good and so worth the (minimum) hour of playthrough.

Welp, that's all from me, friends! As always, please remember to drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!

The Kid at the Back (DEMO)

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arceespinkgun · 6 months

Text

Essay: Galvatron, the Flawed Jewel

When I watched the 80s Sunbow cartoon, I always found Galvatron to be a rather shallow character. But in the Marvel UK comics, he is one of the most fascinating and compelling of all. I want to explore why that is. However, before I can, I need to briefly clarify who Galvatron was made from and how many versions of him are in this continuity. Time-travel makes this really complicated, but here's my best guess:

The first Galvatron (and Scourge and Cyclonus) went back in time right after he was thrown out of Unicron by Rodimus as he was in the movie. This Galvatron went back in time to escape from and find a way to destroy Unicron, but he, Cyclonus, and Scourge end up being erased from existence in the Time Wars arc after Shockwave kills Cyclonus, accidentally causing the space-time continuum to nearly collapse.

Galvatron II was plucked from an alternate future in which he tried to get Unicron to leave him alone by doing his bidding—killing and conquering. But the Unicron of the main timeline makes Galvatron II do yet more labor for him.

A third Galvatron was shown in the future stories, replacing the one who was erased from existence. This Galvatron temporarily succeeds in forcing the future Autobots off Cybertron, but ends up dead (maybe? He's shown slumped in a pile of corpses so) in a battle against Unicron.

I'm going to assume each Galvatron can be used to inform my interpretation of him in general.

Another detail to mention is that the Galvatron(s) of this continuity were always made from more than Megatron. All of them probably have some degree of Straxus in them as well. Straxus, who I must say sure is obsessed with Megatron's body, both injected his mind into Megatron AND built a second, lookalike Megatron out of some unnamed Decepticon to inject his mind into. In both cases, Megatron's personality seemed to reemerge as the dominant one, but this calls into question what Galvaton inherited from whom.

Straxus's alt-mode, which seems very similar to Galvatron's

With all of that out of the way, time to delve into the complexities of Galvatron's characterization!

One of the first things that surprised me about Galvatron in this continuity was the way he reacts to characters who are obscure and/or weak.

He knows all their names!

One big issue with this continuity is the overinflated cast (because the comic was supposed to sell the toys), so there were always tons of characters who almost felt like filler running around. A few characters who are known for their cool designs and toys, but still fill this role, are the Seacons. They're just described as engineers who were brought to Earth to fortify Shockwave's undersea base, not to fight. But when Shockwave sees Galvatron walking around on the ocean floor, he sends them out to fight him against Soundwave's advice, knowing they'll probably die. The Seacons' leader, Snap Trap, even just tells his team, "...do your best!" before the fight, which doesn't inspire confidence lol

But Galvatron is impressed with them, and even leaves them all alive! He says that by embarrassing Shockwave, it will all be in their best interest one day.

Some way too overexposed filler characters were the Sparklers/Sparkabots. When one of them, Fizzle, almost drowns, Galvatron... saves him for seemingly no reason?

At the same time, though, I think it's significant that this odd fondness does seem be predicated on these people not actually being able to do much to him or anybody close to his level. For example, several characters I'd classify as being on the level of fodder, Guzzle (another Sparkabot), Getaway, Chainclaw, and Crossblades are initially some of the only surviving Autobots in the future Galvatron II was from, but when they actually manage to defeat Scourge and Cyclonus, Galvatron is so disgusted that he saves Cyclonus's life just to immediately punish him by killing him himself.

When it comes to the big names, Galvatron seems to feel only contempt. In Galvatron II's future, he strings up Rodimus's corpse and shoots him again and again, symbolically killing him over and over. And in the multi-issue story ...Perchance to Dream in which Galvatron tries to trap various Autobots who are in stasis in visions of moments in which they demonstrated their inner weaknesses/flaws, we get to see Galvatron's own nightmare. While it's meant to be humorous, I think the fact that Galvatron's worst fear is being killed by Rodimus over and over again is important.

In fact, it's not just the Prime I suspect Galvatron is afraid of. Sure, maybe it was just cruelty or his desire to turn the Decepticons against the Autobots, but in the Time Wars arc, I think he used Scorponok as a shield because he didn't want to face Ultra Magnus in a fair fight, since Magnus had previously defeated Galvatron a couple of times.

So, Galvatron's afraid of other people who can best him, but what does he desire? Well, the entire series follows his mission to free himself of Unicron. He has major setbacks given multiple versions of himself die, and Galvatron II suffered a rude awakening when he realized his attempt to satisfy Unicron by following his orders was for naught and that that he remained a tool. In fact, I believe that Galvatron's interest in weak, obscure characters stems from how eclipsed he himself feels by Unicron.

Also, I love how much of Unicron's and Primus's personalities we get to see in these comics. Unicron is so immature which is great, because like, who does he have to impress? XD

Galvatron sometimes says he wants to take over the Decepticons and conquer the world when he's free of Unicron, but I honestly question if that's even true. Galvatron II doesn't spread his "empire" beyond the Americas, something that bothers his troops. They note he's acting like a child, revelling in random acts of destruction to no purpose.

The first Galvatron spent a long stretch of issues (like a hundred or so IIRC) in the present time, wandering around and doing nothing in particular, only lashing out when he's reminded of Rodimus Prime, or attacked by other people, like his former lieutenants Scourge and Cyclonus, or the Wreckers. All of that on top of the fact that he very intentionally didn't start his fight with the Seacons... in fact, after that battle, he embarrasses Shockwave and undermines his command by claiming he'd come in peace. Galvatron also doesn't really take initiative to team up with his old self, Megatron, instead only doing so after Shockwave attempts to get over that humiliation by using Megatron as a weapon against Galvatron. And yes, then he finally starts to take initiative and battle people... but I almost wonder if that was Megatron's drive for conquest propelling the initial conflict, not Galvatron's.

This brings up another really interesting facet of Galvatron's character: his relationship with Megatron. In the story arc that introduced Galvatron, Target: 2006, his initial plan is to get Megatron's help in building a weapon to destroy Unicron. Notably, Galvatron does not tell him they are one and the same, and unsurprisingly, Megatron does not agree to work with him.

However, some time after incapacitating Megatron, Galvatron does tell the captured Jazz about his entire backstory. Also, the first ever glimpse of Galvatron's unstable state of mind came when Megatron decided to team up with the Autobots to defeat him. He can't seem to handle the cognitive dissonance of this.

Later, leading up the Time Wars arc, Galvatron does manage to get Megatron's assistance by instead convincing him they're the same. One of the first moments that peaked my interest in Galvatron was during this arc. When he sees the Wrecker, Roadbuster, about to shoot Megatron, and remembers that in his timeline, he suffered that injury as Megatron. And in that moment, Galvatron decides to spare his past self the pain.

There are so many layers to this. Imagine remembering horrible pain that your past self suffered and then deciding to suffer that as your current self to spare them that agony. It's not a selfish act, because you still have to feel it. It's bizarrely compassionate in a way. (It's also worth noting that as the timeline diverges more and more from his original one, Galvatron becomes more and more unstable, to the point that even Megatron grows tired of his madness and vows to not end up like him. Once again, something about cognitive dissonance is extremely difficult for Galvatron to handle).

Unlike this Galvatron, Galvatron II initially resents Megatron. Galvatron II actually manages to best Unicron by making Emirate Xaaron wake Primus to get the god's help (!) and then inspiring all the Autobots and Decepticons to fight Unicron (!!!) and eventually Unicron is destroyed.

Galvatron in this continuity is such a badass, I really can't overstate that

But with Unicron gone, Galvatron then sees Megatron as the one thing still holding him back. This is where the header image of this post comes from: Galvatron views Megatron as the flaw to his otherwise-perfect jewel. When Galvatron sneaks aboard the Ark, which Shockwave and Starscream have stolen, and discovers Megatron there, Galvatron blames Megatron for his mental instability. He nearly tries to kill him before he comes to his senses and snaps back to an attitude more like that of the first Galvatron and decides he might need to protect Megatron and team up with him.

This is the (not Straxus-made clone) version of Megatron and Galvatron II, who hadn't met before this point

However, this isn't to be. The Ark crashes when Ratchet sacrifices himself and only Galvatron is seen leaving it. He kills some humans and then unsteadily walks away from the ship, until he ends up at a settlement.

He ends up being tracked down by Fortress Maximus, who shoots him in the back, which triggers Galvatron and causes him to go into a rabid frenzy.

Pictured: Galvatron eating the forbidden noodles

Fortress Maximus beats himself up over causing this for a while until his Headmaster component, Spike Witwicky, tells him to own up to his mistake and fix it.

I want to shift focus for a minute to this final opponent Galvatron ends up facing. Fortress Maximus in this series is an extremely flawed Autobot: so worn-down and eager to stop fighting and have peace that he ended up essentially being a colonialist whose actions and inaction nearly destroy a once-peaceful world. He's a character who is super averse to conflict to the point of being callous at points, and he needed to learn to do his duty and take responsibility for his actions. I mention him because I think Galvatron is a parallel inversion of those character traits: what he actually needs is to just stop fighting, since it's when he isn't that he is actually at his most stable... but that need is getting obscured by his immense power, arrogance, and mental illness.

This conclusion may be reaching, but here is my ultimate take on Galvatron's character here: Galvatron's past self, Megatron, is someone with an indomitable will. No matter how embarrassing the defeat (and he has so many humiliating ones in this continuity, from standing on a cliff that falls out from under him, to freezing up because he was hangry and ate too much raw coal), he keeps going seemingly shamelessly. No matter how many times people like Straxus and Shockwave try to take over his mind, Megatron's personality just keeps reasserting itself in the end. He gets inappropriately intimate with his enemies, and just become more driven and more obsessed if anyone ever manages to get the better of him. He lives to fight, and enjoyed executing people before he ever started the War.

But I think Galvatron is not only a transformed Megatron (+ whoever else was sharing Megatron's head at the time), but a transformed Megatron whose will was shattered by Unicron. That deep down, Galvatron doesn't particularly want to keep fighting and conquering—that he's not at his happiest when he's fighting and killing some powerful opponent the way Megatron is. Instead, fights with people who could threaten him scare him. He doesn't even really care that much about conquering the world... the passion that Megatron had for being a dictatorial strongman is all but gone. Galvatron seemed most satisfied when he was just hanging around on Earth, doing nothing in particular, maybe in a body of water or something, alone, with nobody around to trigger memories of Rodimus Prime or Unicron or anyone else powerful enough to hurt him. Hot take, but I feel like with Galvatron, there could be a chance that he could be open to living peacefully if he were left alone, which is something I didn't feel was possible with Megatron.

...Also, this color scheme for Galvatron is the best ever. Just saying!

#Galvatron #Megatron #Unicron #Straxus #Fortress Maximus #long post #transformers g1 #transformers marvel #maccadam #my analysis

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copperbadge · 1 year

Text

Well, Still Salty.

I was cranky yesterday and I thought a good night's sleep would provide some adjustment in perspective, but unfortunately "spending yesterday not on tumblr" also offered perspective and got there first.

Up front: feel free to comment or reblog on this post (replies may be heavily delayed) but if you feel the urge to Like, I'm going to ask you to take one more step and go to https://www.tumblr.com/support, select "feedback" as the category, and enter a line or two about the new dash. It can be as simple as "Your new dash design is difficult to use and is driving people off the site". I'm not asking everyone to do it, but if you're going to Like this post, that would be a helpful action in addition. You can delete any response they send; no reason to expose yourself to the unique combination of incompetence and condescension with which they handle feedback generally.

Also up front: yeah, if I find somewhere else to go and go there, I will certainly let you guys know beforehand, I'm not going to just evaporate. I'll be broadcasting about Tumblr's replacement on Tumblr very heavily. But I can't deny that it is now an active goal of mine to find a viable replacement for this site. (More on this in a moment.) You will always be able to find me on AO3 as copperbadge, or via [email protected]. (More on this in a moment also.)

This kind of thing is why I refuse to fuck with staff now or ever; I don't trust them and I never will. Watching @wip respond to almost every complaint or suggestion with "but that would be really hard" is telling. Whoever is pushing blocks around at Tumblr wants a lucrative site that's easy to code, but lucrative is hostile to community and code is difficult by nature, and when the architecture of the meeting hall is hostile and cheap, people don't stick around.

I've been watching the site as every change made it incrementally worse, from a buggy post window that doesn't allow ease of editing to the new dash (which is the reason I'm writing this in a text window off Tumblr). I genuinely do not think I can use desktop Tumblr like this unless I can install something that will put it back the way it was, and roughly 40% of the content you guys get HAS to come through desktop. It's impossible to do on a phone or so time-consuming it's not worth it. I cannot code Radio Free Monday on a phone; it's a struggle to code it on a single-monitor laptop (I usually write it on my work computer, where I have two monitors). Even writing image IDs on the phone is difficult and something I rarely do. Tumblr is becoming an actively difficult place for me to make content, introducing friction left and right.

But where does one go? I've tried other platforms and they're either worse to use or they don't have the constituency. The problem with a lot of discourse around internet addiction is that it often points out how glued people are to their phones without asking what it is they're doing on those phones. I'm not addicted to social media; I don't doomscroll, I don't care what celebrities have to say, I don't find 140 characters useful or interesting, I don’t find most “funny” videos very interesting. I create a lot of original content for public consumption, significantly more than many social media users, and if that becomes difficult, then the site suffers more than I do. But it's undeniable that social media, and this social media in specific, is where my people are, and yeah, I like seeing you all every day. It makes it difficult to leave even when Tumblr is the best of a bad set of options.

It seems like a lot of the internet, lately, is the best of a bad set of options.

All that said, Tumblr forced a sudden, unwanted, and unchangeable reskin on me a day after I listened to a two-hour podcast about addiction while working on building a newsletter system for my author site. I spent the evening before this happened in contemplation of my relationship to social media and to my readership and how I might alter it to my benefit regardless of whether that's also to Tumblr's detriment. Their poor timing, I suppose. A lot of the theories advanced on the podcast were, to put it kindly, bunk, but one of the suggestions for people questioning their relationship to an activity was a dopamine fast -- removing something in your life that gives you quick but unsustained dopamine hits, so that you can take some time to level out and examine your behaviors. On the one hand, that's not at all how dopamine works; from the jump it's a bad theory. But on the other, pulling back from something you think may be causing you difficulty is generally speaking a good tactic.

Removing myself from Tumblr yesterday was an active process: because I have ADHD and often will forget something exists if I don't systematize my engagement with it, Tumblr is normally pinned to my browser, with the app on my phone's top screen. Removing the app and closing the window meant that while I occasionally reached for Tumblr, it was less frequently than I expected, and the lack of access reminded me why I wasn't there. I missed you guys, but I didn't miss getting distracted from work by my dash, or the pressure to respond to the volume of communication I receive through the site daily. I don't think my use of tumblr as my sole social media has been unhealthy, per se, but certainly yesterday felt both quieter and calmer after I walked away.

But that's a temporary relief, because you are my community, and not only do I not want to leave my community, it's a resource for me. One of the reasons I do things like Radio Free Monday and the weekly Hug on Saturdays is that I try to make sure that resource is reciprocal. Leadership involves service. Leaving would be easy in the short term, but in the long term, leaving my community without having another place to meet it, or another community to go to, would be harmful to both of us. I'm already someone who isolates, and while I have a strong brickspace circle of friends, they fulfill sometimes different needs.

Though I do appreciate the wild vote of confidence from the comments to my last post telling me people would come with me where I went. That means a lot to me. I will attempt to make it either unnecessary or as painless as possible. Just know, I see your faith and friendship and I appreciate it.

Sometimes at my old job I'd be in very tumultuous meetings where a lot was discussed and not much agreed on, and the most useful thing to me was always to say, "What are our next steps? What would you like me to do because of this meeting?" So what are next steps, all this being the case?

First, I'm going to be off Tumblr, mostly, for another couple of days, because clearly I need the break and a few days won't matter too much. Again, I will be back either to continue on the site or to let you guys know, at length and volume, where I'm headed. The former is much more likely.

Second, I'm going to be actively looking for both a widget I can install to reset the dash (recommendations welcome, I currently don't even use xkit) and a wholly new platform that's a realistically viable alternative. Even if the dash gets reset, the shitty post editor is here for good. Attempts to source alternative platforms in the past have taught me that it needs to have a mobile-friendly site or an app, a similar structure to tumblr, and a reasonable chance of actually attracting users. That's a heavy venn diagram unlikely to be fulfilled anytime soon, but I'm now invested in finding it, instead of just passively waiting for it to happen to me (as Tumblr did when it pulled me off LJ).

Third, I do have an email newsletter in the works! I'm just wrestling currently with setting up how people sign up for it. This wasn't meant to be "my main broadcast platform"; it's meant to be a once-monthly email to share book news, targeted at people who aren't on socials or who just really love content from me, I guess. :D The plan was for me to assure Tumblr users that it was not extra content, just select content repackaged into a digest. But it will be one way to ensure that if I'm moving around outside of Tumblr, you'll know about it. I hope to have a link to a signup page soon. (I'm....dealing with some code issues.)

Fourth, I'm going to be combing through the last ten years I've spent here and pulling anything I think is of value into an archive. For now everything will remain here as well, and I'll let you guys know if I think that's going to change, but it's clear that this space is moving only one direction, towards a place I can't exist, and when/if it crumbles I want to have already evacuated what's important.

So there you go. I'll possibly be posting sporadically (the Saturday Hugs are queued six months in advance so that'll happen) but if nothing else and if not sooner, I'll be back full-time next week starting with Radio Free Monday. I appreciate your patience and your kindness in the meantime!

#tumblr #social media

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 1 year

Text

One Bad Day....Jason's Death

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 8. Panic Attack, 12. Character Death, 23. Begging, 31. Crying, Alt. 13. Grief Fandom: Batman, Batfam, Batmom, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd Summary: Before Red Hood rescued her, before she was in prison, before she killed The Joker, Batmom experiences one of the most devastating losses of her life. Word Count: 5587 TW: Canon Character Death, Mentions of Torture, Brief Description of Injuries, Grief, Breakdown, Tears, Anger, Character Picks Up Reader Note: This is part of the One Bad Day.... series but can be read as a one-shot (though best to be read after Part 3)Part of @ailesswhumptober's whumptober event.

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It has been three days since you have heard from either Bruce or Jason and you are starting to get worried. Actually, you are way past worried—you are terrified. Something is wrong, you can feel it in your gut. A gnawing queasiness deep in your stomach that has you unable to eat or sleep while you wait for some sort of news.

Usually, you wouldn’t give this radio silence a second thought. While Bruce tries to send some sort of word as often as he can while out of town, it just isn’t always possible. Especially when he is away on this kind of work. Batman is a force of secrets and mystery. He can’t always risk finding a way to call his wife to tell her he is alright.

You pull the blanket that is draped over your shoulders tighter around you and continue pacing. Alfred had placed it there a few ago, the last time he had come to check on you. When you had first begun to worry, the butler had remained by your side providing constant reassurance and support. But after a while, once it became clear you wanted to be alone, he retreated upstairs. Occasionally, he returned to the Batcave to bring you some food, water, or something to keep you warm, but otherwise, he had been keeping his distance. However, you know the second you call for him, he will instantly be there to get you whatever he possibly can. If only he could get you the one thing you truly wanted right now….

As if summoned by your silent wish, you suddenly hear the distant roar of a familiar engine growing louder by the second. Whirling around, a huge smile of relief on your face, you turn just in time to see the Batmobile burst into the cave and come to a stop in its usual spot. For the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe again as the driver-side door opens up and you catch a glimpse of Bruce, still in his Batman costume though he has removed his cowl and gloves.

Throwing your arms open wide as you approach the car, you exclaim, “There’s my boys!” Bruce doesn’t look at you as he climbs out of the Batmobile and walks slowly over to the passenger side. “I was just about to send out a search party. How was Ethiopia? Did you find–”

You stumble to a halt, your smile slipping from your face. An icy vice clamps down on your heart as you see Bruce lift something out of the Batmobile: a small limp figure wrapped in a torn yellow cape that reveals small glimpses of the red suit underneath through the holes and tears. Though the cape is also draped across the person’s face, you know immediately who is under it.

“No….” you gasp as your blanket slips from your shoulders to pool at your feet. “No, no, Bruce, no. Please, no.”

As you wait for Bruce’s response, you cling to that last fragile shred of hope that it’s not what you think, that maybe he’s just hurt under there or sleeping or…or…….

But as your husband silently walks past you and lays the body on one of the nearby tables, the drawn, pained expression on his face coupled with the tender care he takes carefully arranging it is the final confirmation you need.

Dropping to your knees, you let out an almost inhuman wail as the truth of the situation slams into you like a nuclear blast. Your baby’s gone. Jason is dead. And you have lost yet another child.

You collapse forward, your forehead pressing hard against the cold cave floor as another wail tears through your chest. No. It can’t be true. Jason has to be alive. He has to be. Oh please, God, please don’t tell me you’ve taken my baby from me. Not again. Please.

As you continue to sob—worldless howls of grief and pain—you feel Bruce drape himself over you as if trying to shield you from this agony….but it’s too late. The damage has already been done and you have been irreparably broken.

In what seems like hours later, once you have exhausted yourself to the point you no longer have the energy or tears left to cry, Bruce sits back and pulls you carefully into his lap. As you lay curled in his arms with your head resting on his chest, you can feel his heart beating beneath you—so strong and steady—and it hits you that you will never again feel Jason’s heartbeat or hear him take a breath. All of those little signs of life you take for granted are just gone…and so is he.

Lifting your head to gaze up at your husband, you force your words through your aching throat, torn raw from all your screaming, and you ask, “What happened?”

“The Joker,” Bruce says as he brushes a tear off your cheek. “He used Jason’s birthmother to lure him in, then he placed both of them in a warehouse that was rigged to explode. I arrived just as the bomb went off. I….I was too late to save him.”

The sound of Bruce’s voice breaking and the tears in his voice sends another jolt of pain into your heart and you nuzzle your head into his neck as you squeeze his hand. He silently squeezes back and you have to stifle a groan as you feel the bones in your hand shift and crack in his grasp, but you don’t say anything. You just let him continue to squeeze your hand long after the point it turns numb.

You haven’t seen Bruce fall apart since the two of you lost the baby. Regardless of what heartbreaks or fights had come your way in the years since, Bruce had remained calm and stoic through it all. It’s just who he was. He was your rock, your lifeline in the roughest of waters, your source of comfort when you needed it the most—so the sight of him breaking adds another layer of grief to your own.

When he finally loosens his grip and you can tell he has regained some of his composure, you whisper, “Did he…. Did he hurt him before…?”

Bruce hesitates for a moment before murmuring, “You don’t need to know the details.”

Which means yes. The Joker had probably tortured and beaten your baby bloody before blowing him up. Another sob threatens to tear from your lips, but you manage to quell it so it is just a whine deep in your throat. You had cried enough for the moment. Right now, you need answers and to come up with a plan. But first…you need something else.

Untangling yourself from Bruce’s arms, you unsteadily get to your feet and begin walking over to the table. Bruce leaps up when he sees what you are doing and he gently grabs your shoulders blocking your path. “Don’t. Sweetheart, just…just don’t. Trust me.”

“Let me go. I need to see him.”

You try to shrug him off but he holds you firmly in place. “No. You don’t. Don’t let that be the last image you have of him—I wish it wasn’t mine. He’s gone and seeing him like that won’t bring him back. So, I’m begging you, don’t.”

“Get out of my way, Bruce,” you growl as you glare up at your husband. “I need to see our son. I need to see what that monster did to him.”

For a moment, you aren’t sure what Bruce is going to do. His eyes flit across your face, trying to find the slightest hesitation he can grasp onto. But when he doesn’t find any, he sighs and slowly lowers his hands as he bows his head and whispers, “Please…Don’t look.”

But you have already pushed past him before he finishes his sentence.

You approach the table with a determined stride, yet you hesitate once you reach it. Jason was always a slight kid, even verging on scrawny, but he had never seemed smaller or more vulnerable than as your hand hovers over the cape still draped over him. Even that first night Bruce brought him home to you, he had so much fire and spirit in his little twelve-year-old body that his presence filled the room. Now, three years later, that fire and spirit had been extinguished and it hits you all over again how young he truly was—how young he would always be.

You feel Bruce come to stand just behind you but he doesn’t say a word. He has tried his best to stop you so now all he can do is wait for you to live with your decision and be there for the aftermath. Knowing he is right there for you gives you a renewed sense of strength and as you take a deep breath, you pull back the cape to look at your son.

Bruce was right. You shouldn’t have looked.

Some of the damage you are expecting based on what Bruce told you. Burns litter Jay’s face and neck as well as his hands. In some places, they are light, almost invisible unless the light catches them just so. However, in other spots, the burns are so severe you can almost see down to the bone. His hands are the worst, so charred and blackened that you fear touching them despite the longing in your chest to hold his hand once more in yours. Looking at the burn patterns, it seems heartbreakingly clear that Jason had tried to protect himself from the blast by throwing his hands in front of his face…he had seen it coming.

Yet as horrible as that realization is, far worse is the damage you weren’t expecting to see on your son.

Beneath the burns and debris from the bomb, Jason’s body is broken, bruised, and bloody in ways that an explosion couldn’t have caused. One arm and leg jut out at odd angles and there are dark bruises all over his face, neck, and the parts of his torso you can see through his ruined suit. One eye is swollen and black, his nose is bent sharply to one side, and his lip is split open wide. You have seen enough blunt-force trauma up close and personal to understand what had to have caused all of this.

Casting one last longing look at your son, you turn to face Bruce. You are visibly shaking, and when you speak, your voice is dripping with venomous fury, “Where is he?”

“Clark is tracking him down and he’ll alert me the second he finds him.”

“And then?” Bruce glances away, unable to look at you. Disbelief washes over you and you step closer to your husband. “Bruce, don’t tell me you are thinking of letting him live.”

“It’s not our place to–”

“He killed our son!” you hiss as you point to the body of the child you both loved. “Jason is—Jason is dead because of that maniac! We can’t let The Joker get away with this!”

“We won’t.” Bruce takes your face between his hands and bends over so his forehead is almost touching yours. “I swear to you, we will find him and throw him back into Arkham where he belongs.”

Wrenching from his grasp in disgust, you snarl, “For how long? A few weeks? A month if we’re lucky? Then he’ll just find another way to escape like he always does and he’ll hurt more innocent people, more people we love. How can you not see that this has to end? That it should have ended years ago.”

“My heart—” Bruce tries to take your hand but once again you snatch it away from him. “I know you don’t always agree with it, but we have a code. A code you agreed to follow when you joined me. And that code means that no matter what The Joker or anyone else does, We. Don’t. Kill. Otherwise, what makes us any better than them?”

“Maybe I don’t care about being better than them anymore. We’ve done things by the book, followed your rules, and where has that left us? Two dead children and a third who barely survived being shot. And you still talk about trusting the same system that allowed it to happen in the first place. Well, who’s next, Bruce? Who will be the next victim in your moral war? Alfred? Dick?....Me? Whose death will it take for you to realize that this won’t end unless we make it end?”

Bruce stares at you as if he is looking at a stranger and not his wife of ten years. Shaking his head slightly, he says, “I understand you’re hurting right now and you’re not thinking clearly. But once some time has passed and the feelings aren’t as raw, you’ll—”

“I’ll what? Forget my son is dead?” you snap.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, what did you mean? Give it time and things will just go back to normal? That this pain will fade and I won’t care that my son was murdered?”

“Our son.”

“What?”

“Our son,” Bruce says. His voice has a sharp edge to it that momentarily takes you aback. “You keep saying ‘my son’ like you’re the only one who lost him. I know what you and Jay had was special but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love him too, or that I’m not in agony right now. I had to watch, helplessly, as that warehouse exploded knowing I was too late to save him. Then, I dug with my bare hands for almost an hour through the wreckage praying for a miracle only to find—” Bruce presses his hand over his eye as he takes a long, slow, shaking inhale then continues “And then I had to fly home watching vigil over our son’s body, all the while dreading this moment. Knowing I was coming home to shatter the woman I love. But the only thing that made that thought bearable was knowing we could mourn together and lean on each other for comfort. Yet all you can focus on is revenge and murder!”

“No, Bruce. I’m focusing on keeping the family I still have safe. I’m focusing on protecting this city just as you swore to do. I’m focusing on ending terror and chaos in the streets. And if that means one psychotic clown has to die to make that happen, then so be it.”

“We do not cross that line. Ever. No matter who we think deserves it. That’s just how things have to be.”

“Don’t you get it! Jason would still be alive if you had just—” All of your fury evaporates instantly and you inhale sharply as you realize what you were about to blurt out. Bruce’s expression hardens into a stone-cold mask usually reserved for the most lowsome of criminals and, stumbling back, you stutter, “I-I mean…I—”

“If I had what? Say it. Say it!” Now it is your turn to not meet his eye yet he pushes on. “You were going to say that if I had just killed The Joker years ago, Jason would still be alive!”

“I didn’t mean it. It just slipped out,” you whisper. “I know this isn’t your fault, Bruce. You told him not to go but I encouraged him to do what he thought he had to do. That I would support whatever decision he made.” Your voice cracks as you choke out, “I sent our baby off to his death, not you.”

It is the thought that has been nagging at the back of your head since you saw Bruce lift Jason’s body from the Batmobile. The unbearable truth you’ve been unable to face. Bruce had known something felt off about the situation and he insisted Jason stayed home. But when Jason came to you saying he had found his birthmother and needed to go see her, you put your foot down and forced Bruce to take him. If you had just listened to Bruce, if you had just really examined the facts instead of wanting to show Jason you were supportive, your son would still be alive.

Suddenly, it felt like the walls of the Batcave were closing in on you and you couldn’t catch your breath. Stumbling back a few steps, you say, “I-I can’t do this. I have to get out of here.”

The anger in Bruce’s face disappears as quickly as it appeared. He reaches out to you with a soft, “Sweetheart—” but you continue to back away.

“No. No, I need to go. I-I need to be alone.”

Bruce nods slowly. “Alright. That’s okay. Why don’t you go take a long shower and lay down and I’ll take care of things down here. I’ll come check on you when I’m done.”

You nod back and hurry over to the stairs leading up to the manor. But just as you begin to climb them, you pause and mumble, “I’ll be in Jay’s room.” then flee up the stairs before Bruce can stop you.

Once back in the manor, you move in an almost trancelike state towards the bedrooms. As you pass the kitchen, you hear a soft sniffling and you realize Alfred must have come down into the Batcave at some point and seen what happened. You have been so preoccupied with your own grief, you completely forgot about the butler who loved Jason almost as much as you and Bruce did.

Part of you wants to go back and join him. After all, Alfred always knows how to fix anything and everything and maybe, somehow, he can fix this too. Yet as much as it pains you to admit, there are just some things even Alfred Pennyworth can’t do. So you continue walking.

When you reach Jason’s room, you don’t even pause before opening the door and shuffling in. In one fluid movement, you collapse onto your son’s bed and roll over, dragging his comforter with you until you are cocooned beneath the blanket.

It seems impossible that just three nights ago you were sitting on this very bed with Jason next to you as he told you about how he had been tracking down his birthmother. He had been so scared to tell you for fear he would hurt your feelings. But you had just gathered him into your arms and pressed your lips into his hair as you promised him you would always be his “Ma” regardless of what happened on his search. That you would always love him….

Tears you did not think you could still cry began slipping silently down your cheeks. What would you have done differently if you had known that was the last time you would see your son? What else would you have said to make him understand how much he meant to you? How he had saved you from your grief once before and how you still needed him now?

You bury your face deeper into his pillow as you finally allow yourself to ask the question that you know will haunt you the rest of your life:

Could I have saved you if I had been there?

For the next twelve days, little changes. The only time you leave Jason’s bed is to go to the bathroom, but otherwise, you lay curled in the center of his bed wrapped in his blankets and staring at his wall. Bruce and Alfred take turns coming to check on you several times a day, usually bringing food or drinks and trying their best to coax you into consuming something. You take a little nibble here and there or take a few sips of water, but it isn’t long before you return to your near catatonic state.

Even when Dick arrives a few days after you learned of Jason’s death, it doesn’t make much of a difference. You do allow him to climb into the bed with you where you wrap him in a bone-crushing embrace, afraid if you let go you’ll lose him just like your other children. But eventually, he has to leave and you resume your solitary existence.

On day seven, Bruce slips into bed behind you and wraps his arms around you. For a long time, the two of you just lay there in silence. Then, softly, his lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “Please, sweetheart, please come back to me. I know you’re hurting. So am I. But I just lost Jason and I can’t….I can’t lose you too. Please, let me in. Let us help each other through this….Together.”

You know he’s right, and it kills you to know you are only adding to his heartbreak, but you just don’t have the strength or the will to be what he needs right now. So, you remain motionless in his embrace, your eyes never shifting their unseeing stare at the wall.

Eventually, Bruce accepts nothing is going to change. Pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, he whispers, “I love you. Please never forget that. And I’ll be waiting, as soon as you’re ready.” Then he slips from the bed and you are alone once more.

The next major change in your routine comes exactly two weeks after Jason’s death when Bruce and Alfred walk into Jason’s room holding a simple black dress. Silently, you allow them to put it on you before they lead you downstairs where Dick is waiting with the car. No one has to tell you where you are going. You already know.

For the short drive, Bruce sits next to you in the backseat, holding your hand tightly as he presses his lips against your temple with whispers of encouragement and love. You squeeze his hand back but make no other acknowledgment of his presence or support. You catch Dick glancing back at you in the rearview mirror a few times, concern etched on his face, and you wonder what he sees when he looks at you. That thought makes you withdraw even further into yourself in shame.

As Alfred pulls to a stop, you make no move to exit the car. Alfred and Dick both glance at Bruce for some sort of guidance as to how to proceed, and he motions for them to get out. Once you are alone, Bruce pulls you into his arms. “If I could spare you from this, you know I would. But we have to make some sort of public show or it’s going to look suspicious. And people are already asking questions. But I promise, the second we’re done, I’ll take you back up to the house. Okay?”

You nod, knowing he is right however much you despise it, and he smiles softly. Placing his finger under your chin so he can tilt your head back, Bruce kisses your forehead as he whispers, “That’s my girl.”

Then sliding his hand into yours, he opens his car door and steps out before helping you out. Immediately you are met with flashing lights and the whirring click of hundreds of cameras all pointed in your direction. You try to ignore them as Bruce leads you down the path lined with photographers and reporters, your face a blank mask void of any emotion.

But that mask becomes harder to maintain as you hear the slight tittering of whispers passing through the crowd. And though you have over a decade of experience being the subject of Gotham’s rumor mill to get used to the kinds of things people say about you, these reach a new level of cruelty:

“Look at the heartless whore. Can’t even spare a single tear for that poor boy Bruce so kindly took in.”

“I heard she didn’t even want to come today but Bruce insisted. Can you imagine? He deserves so much better.”

“She wasn’t even there when he died. Bruce planned a family trip overseas and she refused to go. She would rather stay here to be waited on hand and foot by that butler of theirs than spend time with her supposed family.”

“I bet she had something to do with the boy’s death. Probably didn’t want to share the Wayne fortune with anyone else. Bruce and the older boy should watch their backs. They could be next.”

You remember a time when you would have gone off on these people. Snapped back about how they didn’t know anything about you or your relationship with your family. Caused such a scene Bruce would have had to sheepishly drag you away while his face glowed bright red. But not today. Today all you want to do is curl up in a ball in front of them as you sob, asking how they can be so cruel or heartless to not see your pain or the devastation at your loss. How they could come here—here of all places—just to add to your suffering.

But you don’t. Instead, you allow Bruce to continue leading you forward until you stop in front of the freshly dug grave with the casket placed beside it.

Bruce (well, probably Alfred) had worked out all the details while you were locked in Jason’s room. A plot had been selected in the small graveyard on the edge of the Wayne estate, right next to where Bruce’s parents were buried. The casket is closed so you can’t see how they dressed Jay, but Bruce had promised you in the car that he tucked Jason’s Robin mask into his pocket like you asked. It was the only input you had given on the whole ceremony but it did make you feel a little better knowing he had it with him.

To the world, this may just be the funeral of Jason Todd, but in reality, today you are burying two people, and you wanted to honor that.

Dick comes to stand next to you so you are sandwiched between him and Bruce. Though you don’t as much as glance in his direction, you are grateful to have your remaining son beside you. It is a calming reminder that not everyone has been taken from you. At least…not yet.

As the ceremony starts, you hold your head high and stare straight ahead. It is harder than you thought, the weight of a hundred eyes boring into the back of your head, but you manage to remain calm and composed throughout the sermon.

It isn’t until they begin lowering the casket into the ground that everything goes wrong.

Unable to take your eyes off of the box containing your son as it disappears into the dirt, your body begins trembling violently as your knees give out underneath you. Luckily, Bruce catches you before you hit the ground but his touch does little to ease your trembling.

Still staring at the casket, you begin repeating, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

Bruce pulls you tight against his chest, allowing you to bury your face into his jacket to muffle to sound. You claw desperately at the back of his suit, your chanting becoming more frenzied by the moment despite no longer looking at the grave. It’s just too much. All of it’s too much. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

Mercifully, Bruce gently lifts you into his arms and carries you back to the car. You cling tightly to him, your arms around his neck, even as you continue shaking and babbling, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t…”

“Shhh….” Bruce coos gently. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You did so good. I know he’d be proud of you, just like I am. But it’s over now, and I’m taking you back to the manor just like I promised. It’s going to be okay.”

You nod into his neck as you finally manage to quiet down some. The words are still swirling in your head but at least they are no longer spewing from your lips. You thought you were stronger than this. You thought you could at least hold it together for an hour for your family’s sake, but you were so wrong.

Even though it had been a closed casket funeral, knowing Jay was in there, seeing it disappear into the ground forever…it finalized everything in a way you hadn’t felt yet. All those days laying in Jason’s room, numb and disconnected from the world, you had distanced yourself from the reality of the truth. But there was no escaping it now. Jason was gone and there was nothing you could do to change that.

When you reach the manor, Bruce once again lifts you into his arms though you half-heartedly tell him you can walk on your own yet part of you is glad when he ignores you and continues to carry you up the stairs. You are somewhat surprised when Bruce returns you to Jason’s room without even asking. For some reason, you had assumed he would try to take you to the master bedroom to be with him.

You expect him to climb into bed or kneel down beside it, but once again he shocks you as he simply turns and walks to the door. He only pauses a moment to say, “I had Alfred put a fresh change of pajamas on the dresser.” Then he walks out and closes the door behind him.

You aren’t sure what to think about this. Has Bruce finally given up trying to reach you? Was he more embarrassed about your behavior at the funeral than he admitted? Or has he finally accepted you need time alone to deal with your loss?

Still pondering his behavior, you climb out of bed and slip off the black dress you are wearing. Tossing it to the side, you walk over to the dresser to look for the clothes Bruce mentioned. The sooner you get them on, the sooner you can return to your blanket cocoon and lose yourself to your fog of grief once more.

But as you spy the pajamas and you reach for them, your eyes land on something on the wall. Despite the fact today is May 11, Jason’s calendar is still turned to April. Since he left for Ethiopia on April 25th and was killed on the 27th, he never got the chance to change it. He would never know which classical author’s picture had been selected for May. Instead, Jason ran out of time and now it will forever be stuck on William Shakespeare.

Time….If only you had more time….

Three and a half years. That’s all the time you had with your son. It seems insane that someone who was in your life for such a short amount of time could leave such an impact on you, but there is no denying it. You know deep in your soul that you could not have loved Jason more if you had given birth to him or known him since the day he was born. He is your son just as much as Dick is, as much as the baby you had lost is, and now he’s gone too.

And it’s all because of The Joker.

For the first time since you had crawled into Jason’s room that first night, something besides sorrow stirs in your gut. The red-hot burn of vengeance that you have let your grief extinguish suddenly flares to life in your veins and your hands clench tightly on the edge of the dresser.

Memories begin flashing through your mind: Sitting next to the bed, begging God to save an 18-year-old Dick as he clung to life after being shot by The Joker while on patrol; Monitoring the Batcomputer in horror as The Joker released his laughing gas throughout the streets of Gotham; Listening to Lt. Gordon’s sobs as he told Bruce what The Joker had done to Barbara; Watching Bruce lift Jason’s lifeless body out of the Batmobile as your heart shattered in your chest.

He is responsible for all this death and this pain, year after year after year. He is the reason other villains think they can get away with whatever deadly scheme they have up their sleeves. He is why Arkham Asylum has become a swinging door deterrent that no one fears. He is the one who killed your son.

And he’s not going to get away with it any longer.

Every cell in your body knows what has to be done, yet you also know the consequences if you do it. Is stopping this lunatic really worth destroying what’s left of your family? Can you really give up everything to ensure no one else ever feels this pain you are feeling?

You think about if your places had been reversed and it had been you who had been killed instead and there is absolutely no doubt in your mind that Jason would have burned the world down if it meant stopping The Joker. And if that’s true, how could you do anything less for your son?

With a newfound purpose driving you and a clear goal in your sights, you flip the calendar to May and pin it in place. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle stares back at you as you press your finger to May 27th; 16 days from now and exactly one month after Jason’s death. That will be the day. The day you do what you should have done long ago. The day you will kill The Joker.

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