#make him affected by things

[xerozero87]

saw an article this afternoon titled ‘sonic the hedgehog fans want to see maria die in the third movie’ and you know what? yeah, a lot of us do, and for good reason.

one of the most important things about maria’s death is that it’s not just a death for the sake of death. she doesn’t die for no reason. her death makes sense within the canon of sa2 as a self contained story. even if shadow actually died at the end of that game like originally planned and we never got to see more of his backstory, never got a more fleshed out past for him, maria’s death would still make sense. it doesn’t come out of nowhere and have no actual impact on the characters or story like a lot of other side character deaths.

maria’s death shapes shadow as a character in sa2 and shadow the hedgehog 2005, it causes him to make the decisions he makes, gives him his motives, his drive, his worldview. shadow may have been physically made in a lab by gerald robotnik and black doom, but he was built and shaped emotionally and mentally by maria and her death. he has the opinions he has about the world and humanity because of maria’s death at the hands of the gun soldiers, and he takes certain actions because of those views. he saves rouge in sa2 because he couldn’t save maria, at the end of the same game he sacrifices himself for the safety of the planet and the life on it because of the promise he made to her before she died.

maria’s death isn’t just important to shadow’s character and story either, it contributes to more within the full canon of the franchise. it’s because of maria’s death that gerald robotnik makes the ark head towards the planet so that, even beyond the grave, he can have his revenge, he can avenge his granddaughter. it’s because of maria’s death that shadow is able to change his opinions and views later on, in spite of his trauma and history, and can work with sonic to defeat the biolizard and help save the world. not to mention, it’s because of maria that shadow exists in the first place, it wouldn’t make sense to end their story together without actually seeing her die.

most fans probably haven’t seen maria actually die anyway. sure, they may have seen the original animation planned for shadow the hedgehog 2005, or the censored static version in the final game, or may have seen the scene in sa2 (I believe) where she sends shadow to earth, but for the most part, fans have not seen maria’s actual death, only the moments before. in recent years, it’s become a rule of storytelling that viewers shouldn’t believe a character is dead until they see a body or the moment the character dies. if they really want to send the message that maria is dead, that people do get affected by things that happen in the sonic franchise story, if they want this to hit as hard as it should, then fans need to see that maria is dead without a doubt.

in other vein, the sonic movies are to reignite old love for the franchise and to introduce younger people to sonic. these younger and newer fans aren’t likely to know the full story of the games if they’re just being introduced to sonic now. they deserve to know the full story the same as the game fans do, even if the timeline has become incredibly convoluted and it’s difficult to tell just what games, comic series, etc. are canon, and considering that (at least as far as I know) the movies are reasonably close to game canon while tweaking some things appropriately for the different setting (ie., introducing tom, maddie, wade, stone, etc. and making them actual, at least semi-important characters, changing robotnik’s motives in the first movie, stuff like that), so it wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense to suddenly divert from something so important in game canon.

personally, I’m also part of the camp who want to see shadow portrayed the way he was back in sa2, not his more recent characterisation. since the second movie treated knuckles with the respect that sega has lacked for a while, and showed him more in line with his original portrayal - naive and misplacing his trust in robotnik, a proud warrior who knows what he’s doing for the most part, a character with his own responsibilities and drive and trauma, someone with an actual personality who isn’t just there to be the comedic punching bag - it isn’t too much to ask for shadow to be treated the same, is it? sure, he was never the most kind character in the franchise, but he also wasn’t originally just the edgy asshole of the group who didn’t actually like anyone. his friendships meant a lot to him back then, with maria and later with rouge and omega. we want to see shadow have actual emotions, real motives, and showing maria’s death as it happened instead of censoring it too heavily or cutting away so we don’t see it at all would remove any possibility of that.

shadow himself is such an important character in the sonic franchise canon. not including his main drive and motive, not fully telling his story and fleshing him out properly like everyone else in the movies, would not only make no sense, but would also be a huge slap in the face for shadow and his fans.

there are some brilliant videos out there that talk about shadow’s character, motives, development, etc. in more detail and better than I could, so I’ll be leaving a couple here for anyone who’s interested.

tl;dr: shadow’s story hinges on maria’s death, and if we don’t actually get to see that happen, then the third movie and shadow’s involvement in it will not have as much of an effect as they should. shadow deserves the same respect the other established sonic characters got.

thank you to anyone who read this. I’m sorry if it’s way too long, if there are a bunch of typos, if it loops a whole bunch or drives points until they become redundant, I’m typing this in a bit of a rush just because I want to get it out there and empty out all my thoughts on this so I don’t forget many. if I did miss anything, feel free to add it on. thank you again. have a good day.

[knightingale]

The "Sansa reminds Sandor of his sister" motive that some people try to hitch to his character really just flies in the face of his actual attachments to her, doesn't it? Sansa reminds Sandor of himself. He sees the little boy who used to love knights in this girl who's been swept up by the same romanticism. He sees his abuser in her abusers, the much larger knight(s) beating on the helpless child. He sees how she is betrayed by every level of authority that should have saved her and remembers his father's neglect and Tywin and Robert's apathy for Gregor's crimes. He's protective of Sansa because he was Sansa.

And GRRM's design, that one of the strongest warriors in the series, a fearsome and cynical 6'8" guy who's "muscled like a bull" and has the face of death itself, sees himself in this soft and effeminate teen girl, and empathizes with her because he was an abuse victim too, is INFINITELY more compelling than "Oh yeah I bet she just reminds him of his sister," who he's never mentioned and who we know literally nothing about. Way to unnecessarily water down a character, you couldn't have ignored the black and white text more efficiently if you tried.

[frankiebirds]

[starry-bi-sky]

Stuck in the middle of a forest made of

Flesh and bones and they're all scared of

A lost little boy who has lost his heart

Fear's not enough, they have to

Tear him apart —-------

There are two things Daniel Fenton knows that his family knows as well: 

He’s adopted.

He can’t remember anything else before that.  

‘Adoption’ is a loose term, implying that they went through the official legal processes and troubles of adopting a child into their home willingly, and with the full intention of doing so going into it. That is not what happened. What happened is that Jasmine Fenton found a half-dead child, in strange clothing, in the middle of the woods at her Aunt Alicia’s cabin, and then she went and got her parents. 

What happened is that a twelve year old Danny woke up in the same cabin, wearing clothes much too big on him that didn’t belong to him, and with very little memory of before that moment. He wakes up like a spring being set loose, sitting up so fast he scares the daylights out of Jasmine Fenton sitting next to him. He wakes up, reaching for his sleeve for something that isn’t there, and when it isn’t his mind stutters, like he’s tripped at the top of a steep hill. 

When they ask him for his name, he tells them, clearing muddled thoughts from his mind; Danny. He’s twelve.

(He thinks that’s his name, at least. It sounds right; it feels right. If he thinks really hard about it, he thinks he can remember someone calling him that, utter adoration in their voice. So it must be his name.) 

The Jasmine girl convinces her parents to take him home with them, and they give him the spare guest room upstairs. He has nothing to fill it with.

It’s… a strange experience, to go to a ‘new’ home when he doesn’t even remember his old one. 

The official adoption process… happens. He can’t say it’s easy, or difficult. He’s oblivious for the most of it, Jasmine intends on helping him settle in and Danny can’t say he enjoys the smothering. He learns that he is stubbornly self-independent, that’s one new thing he knows about himself. 

His adoption papers say ‘Daniel J. Fenton’. Danny remembers staring at the name ‘Daniel’ for a long, long moment, something curdling sour in his sternum. His name is Danny, that he knows. But it’s not Daniel. But he doesn’t know any other way of saying it, so he keeps his complaints to himself.

(Jack Fenton boisterously claps his hand on Danny’s shoulder and jerks him around, grinning wide as he welcomes him into the Fenton Family. Danny’s mind blanches at the touch on his shoulder, an instinct snapping like the maw of a snake, telling him to cut off the man’s fingers for daring to touch him.) 

(He keeps the thought to himself, tension rising up his shoulders the longer Jack Fenton’s heavy hand stays on him.) 

They found Danny in the summer. It’s a perfect coincidence, Maddie Fenton says before she goes back into her lab with Jack Fenton. She says it’s enough time to allow Danny to adjust; that they’ll enroll him into the school year in the fall. Then she stuffs a canister of ectoplasm onto the top shelf, and disappears like the ghosts she studies back down the stairs.  

(There’s something eerily familiar about the ectoplasm sitting in the fridge, something unsettlingly so. Danny knows what that stuff is, but he doesn’t know where. When the house is empty, he takes a can from the fridge and inspects it.)

Jazz wants him to leave the house. Danny doesn’t want to step foot outside of the FentonWorks building until he has something that quells the feeling of vulnerability he gets whenever he does. He tried to once, and he felt exposed. Unsafe. 

He turned back around and went inside.

—-------

Where do we go

When the river's running slow

Where do we run

When the cats kill one by one

—------

One day, when the house is empty — or, as empty as it can be; the Fenton parents down in the lab, and jazz out with friends. Danny is making a sandwich, and he caves into the urge to flip the knife in his hands between his fingers. A childish impulse, but one he falls for nonetheless. It comes to him easily, like second nature, in fact. The slip of the blade between his fingers is seamless, flowing with an ease like water running down the wall.  

He’s almost startled by it; his body holds memories that his mind does not. Muscles that know which way to move and twist, limbs that know how to hold and how to throw. He continues twirling it, fascinated, as if he were a scientist discovering a new species of animal. 

It’s not for a handful of minutes when a new thought hits him; an impulsive thought that pops in the back of his mind like a firecracker; Danny moves without thinking. 

He turns, and throws the knife. The pull of his shoulder, the flick of his elbow, is familiar like a hug. He knows when to let go, and the blade flies through the air in impressive speed, embedding itself into the wall with a hearty, loud thunk. Sinking into the drywall like butter. 

Danny stares at it in shock, he feels relieved — about what? — before he feels the guilt. He scrambles across the kitchen to pull it out, heart racing in his chest at being caught, and prays no one notices the hole it left behind. 

(He runs up the stairs before anyone can find him, food forgotten, and hides the knife beneath his mattress like a guilty murder weapon.)

After that, he leaves the house more. It’s more out of fear of being caught than the desire to leave. But Danny is quickly learning that among all things, he is someone who was dangerous, before he lost his memory. Even with his mind in fractures, he is still dangerous. 

He’s not sure how to feel about that — he thinks he should be scared. He feels a little proud, instead.

—------

Hazel beneath our claws

While we wait for cerulean to cry

Unsettled ticks run through time

Enough for the hunt to go awry

—-----

There’s another thing he learns about himself. That he knows about since he woke up. He knows that he left someone behind. He doesn’t know who, but he knows they must have been close; he’s always looking down and finding himself surprised when the only shadow he sees is his own. 

He thinks that he must have sung to them a lot; he finds himself humming familiar melodies when he’s lost in thought. Lullabies lingering at the tip of his tongue, an instinct to turn and sing them to someone beside him. He can’t remember the lyrics, but his mouth does, it tries to get him to say them when he’s not thinking. He can’t. 

Danny’s found himself humming under his breath more times than he can count, trying to recall whatever it is his mind is trying to claw forward. 

(“That’s a pretty song, Danny.” Jazz tells him at breakfast one day, Danny screws his mouth shut. He hadn’t realized he was humming. “What is it?”) 

(Something mean and possessive rears its head on instinct, uncoiling like a snake from its ball. His shoulders hunch defensively, he bites his cheek to prevent himself from baring his teeth. He doesn’t know what song it is, but it’s not for her. “I don’t know.”)  

He misses his person. Dearly. He knows, the longer he is without them, that they must have been close. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel like he’s missing a chunk from himself. He wouldn’t be turning to someone who's not there; reaching for a hand that’s missing, birdsong on his tongue, a story to tell. 

A dream haunts him one night. Warm and familiar, he’s holding onto someone smaller than him, they’re tucked into his side like a puzzle piece. He’s humming one of his songs that is always playing in the back of his mind, an unfinished tale of a harpy and a hare. Danny can’t remember their face, not all of it. He remembers green eyes, hair dark like his own, skin brown like his. 

He loves them more than anything else in the world, a fact he knows down to his soul. He loves them so much it fills his heart with sunlight. Danny squeezes them tight, nuzzling into their hair; he makes them laugh. Then, he proudly boasts something. That when he takes something of their father’s, that his person — a sibling? That feels right — will be… the word fades from Danny’s mind before he can make sense of it. 

His person hugs him tight, his… brother? And their mother — a woman whose face he can’t remember either, but who he loves like a limb nonetheless — appears, smiling. Her hands reach for them both, voice calling them, ‘her sons’. There’s ticking in the distance, it sounds like the fastening of chains.

Danny wakes up cold, tears streaming down his face. The details of the dream already fading from his mind like the cold pull of a corpse.   

—-------

Harpy hare

Where have you buried all your children?

Tell me so I say

—-------

When school starts that Fall, Danny joins the sixth grade class, and quickly learns more things about himself. One of those things being that he’s smarter than the rest of his grade, whatever education he had before, it was better than the one he’s getting now. 

Everyone knows he’s adopted right off the bat. He tells them when the teacher forces himself to introduce himself, but it’s not like they needed him to tell them for them to know; he never existed in their little world before now, and the Fentons are pale as they come. Danny is not.

He befriends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley; they ask him about the scars fading up and down his arms, they ask him about the scar carved diagonal across his face.

Danny, as politely as he can, tells them he doesn’t remember. He thought kindness would come second nature to him, his dream burned into his mind where he hugged his brother so sweetly. Apparently, his sweetness is only second nature to people he considers his own. 

(It becomes even more apparent when Dash Baxter tries to bully him later that day, and Danny ruffles like an eagle threatened. His mind whispers, hissy and agitated, sinking like a shadow at his shoulder, several different ways Danny could kill him for talking to him like that, and fifteen more ways he could cripple him.)

(Danny ignores those thoughts, up until Dash Baxter tries to grab him. Then he breaks his nose on the wood of his desk. It’s easy how quickly the rest of his grade sinks him down to the status of social pariah.)

(At least Sam and Tucker still talk to him after that. When Danny goes to the principal’s office later, he wisely doesn’t mention the worse things he could’ve done than break Dash Baxter’s nose.)  

—--------------

It clicks and it clatters in corners and borders

And they will never

Hear me here listen to croons and a calling

I'll tell them all the

Story, the sun, and the swallow, her sorrow

Singing me the tale of the Harpy and the Hare

—-------

More dreams come, of course they do. Each one halfway to forgotten whenever he wakes up, ticking faint in his ears. He is many different ages. He is young, shorter than a table. He is older, holding onto his little brother. He is singing in almost every single one. He is singing to his brother. 

Danny can barely remember the lyrics, he’s begun leaving a journal by his bedside so that it’s the first thing he can write down when he wakes up. He’s a storyteller, he learns. He feels like a historian, trying to piece together a culture long dead and forgotten. 

His most vivid dream-like memory is not a happy one, and for once he’s almost relieved he barely recalls it. He is somewhere that isn’t home, but his mother and brother are there. He is dressed in black, blades keen in his hands. 

They are atop a moving train. They are fleeing something. His brother is struggling to keep up, he is small, and young. It’s beautifully sunny, they are somewhere green and lovely. 

It is a fast dream. 

His brother stumbles on something, and Danny, fast as a whip, snatches him by the back of his shirt and hoists him up to his feet before he can fall. “Watch your feet, habibi.” He murmurs low, a hand on his back. It’s hard to hear, there is wind in their ears.

His brother, face obscured in all but his eyes, which are green as emeralds, nods. 

The dream blurs, but Danny falls behind. His foot catches on air — impossible, it should’ve been, at least. He never trips. — and he lands against the roof with a thud and a grunt. His mother and brother stop, and turn for him. 

The train hits a turn before Danny can get up, and he shouldn’t have, something pulls on him, he swears, but he slips. He can’t find the purchase to pull himself up, cold fear hits him as his nails scrape against the metal. 

His mother and brother’s horrified faces are the last thing he sees before he disappears off the side of the train. 

(The ticking is at its loudest when he wakes up, pounding against his inner skull. He only manages to write down ‘train fall’ in his journal, before he’s flipping over to press his head into his pillow to get the pain to stop.) 

—---  

She can't keep them all safe

They will die and be afraid

Mother, tell me so I say

(Mother, tell me so I say)

—-------

When Danny is fourteen he is still humming songs he can’t remember, his mind still in a broken puzzle. But his room is now decorated with stars and plants in every corner. He has a guitar he keeps in the corner of his room, and he plays the lullabies in his head on the strings over and over again. 

The ectoplasm in the fridge still unsettles him, still reminds him of a past he can’t recall. The knife beneath his mattress has returned to the kitchen — he doesn’t need it. He found a box in the attic last year, it had his name on it, and inside he found familiar, strange clothes, and more weapons than he thought was possible to carry on one person. 

(Even without knowing that the Fentons prefer guns to blades, Danny knows, instinctively, that they were his weapons. He was — was? Is — a dangerous person. He takes the box down to his room to sort through. The weapons all fit into his callused hands almost perfectly — the grooves worn to fit his palm. They’re just a little small.) 

(He tentatively takes a small blade with him to school one day, and feels much more comfortable with it sheathed beneath his shirt. He’s kept it on him ever since, like he’s reunited a lost limb to himself.)   

Danny doesn’t have a name for his person, his little brother, nor does he have a name for his beloved mother. He’s haunted by dreams every few weeks, many of them repeating. He’s ingrained the words he can remember to memory, and the ones he doesn’t, he writes down in his journal. His little brother; Danny calls him a bird, he can’t figure out what kind. His little bird of some kind; when Danny takes something from their father — what, he can’t remember what — then his little brother will be a little bird. 

(He doesn’t have a name for his brother, yet, but he’s calling his birdie in his head. It’s better than nothing.)

—------

Seeker, do you ever come to wonder

If what you're looking for is within where you hold

Will you leave a trail for them to follow a path

You'll soon forget

Home

—---------

When he’s fourteen, Danny dies. It does nothing to fix his fractured memories, much to his consternation. It just confirms something he already knows; that he was someone dangerous, and that he still is. 

When the shock of death has worn off, Danny inspects his ghost in the metal reflection of the closest table. It’s blurry, hard to see, but shock green eyes pierce back at him, green like the portal. Lazarus, Danny’s mind whispers, and he blinks rapidly.

‘Lazarus,’ he mouths to himself. It’s familiar. Sam shows him with her phone what he looks like, joking that he looks like an assassin. Danny doesn’t think she’s that too far off. 

He doesn’t tell her that. He tucks the thought away with the rest of his secrets, and fiddles with the hood gathering at his neck, attached to a cape with torn edges swinging down to his ankles. He pulls it over his shock white hair. It shadows over his face impossibly so, until all you can see are his green-green eyes peering out like a wolf hiding in the brush.

He ends up calling himself Phantom. 

(Maybe now he can start putting lyrics to his lullabies; his memories may not have returned, locked away with the sound of a clock, but the dead can talk. One of them may just have answers.) 

----------

Home is where we are

Home is where you are

Home is where I am

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

Dedicated to @gascansposts for being the one who introduced me to the band Yaelokre, and thus being the whole reason I was inspired to write this in the first place >:] Those lyrics at the line breaks are all from their album Hayfields.

[artiststarme]

The Corroded Coffin guys could always count on Eddie to write hardcore songs full of angst, songs that could make anyone feel something. It’s what made them such a hit to the drunks at The Hideout. After everything that happened over Spring Break, allegedly or otherwise, they expected to bear witness to the angstiest songs they could imagine. They thought they would hear tunes wrought with betrayal, heartache, pain, and anger.

Imagine their surprise when they came back to practice to a bunch of love songs.

Gareth could only stare at Eddie blankly while he demonstrated the new song on his guitar. He didn’t know what the hell he was hearing. Grant was glaring at the Warlock like the soft notes had personally offended him. Jeff was nodding along sagely to the beat of the music, always an ally to Eddie even when he was confused at the situation.

And Steve Harrington, the newest addition to join band practice, was sat in a metal folding chair looking at Eddie like he hung the stars. He’d never been serenaded before and the fact that it was Eddie doing it? It only made Steve love him even more.

[yuwuta]

How do you think megumi handles a jealous gf? Try to talk? Give her affectionate head pats? Hug her a little more? Or just rails her all night?

He'd getting an ego boost regardless btw

You have opened a wormhole for me with this ask and I’m gonna try to be normal while answering it but also I have to get this out so walk with me….

In short, yeah he does get a sort of ego boost, but it’s mostly… reassurance? He’s so spoiled with attention and he doesn’t even realize it until you’re Not jealous… and even though he’ll deny this until the day he dies, it’s so evident. He doesn’t really need you to get overtly jealous, he doesn’t need you throwing stones at people who look at him twice, or scolding him for thirty-second interactions with attractive strangers—but he does expect a certain level of protectiveness from you. He’s your significant other, shouldn’t you want to?—he knows he feels it. And besides, he really doesn’t know any other way to show his love for people, and more importantly, how to see that other people are showing their love for him. Megumi has always had dogs in the literal sense of his pets, but also in the people who care about him: Gojo follows him around and bothers him and nips at him like a spoiled chihuahua even if Megumi tells him off for it, Nobara invades his life and personal space like a bratty yorkie, and Yuuji is the husky he mistakenly gave affection once and is now dramatic whenever he doesn’t receive it. So when you don’t follow Megumi around, when you don’t nuzzle yourself into him to get his attention, when you don’t paw at him to get him to pay attention to you instead of whoever or whatever he’s currently engaged with, he’s so confused, and a little bit upset, and a lot pouty. Because why do you hate him… if you loved him, you’d simply bark for his attention, wouldn’t you 🙄?

So when you DO any of those things, when you huff when he’s not paying attention to you, or get upset that he has other plans, or tell him you don’t like the person he’s been spending time with instead of you, then that teeny part of him that loves that reaction is very satisfied. He knows he probably shouldn’t feel this happy to have you jealous, but he does, and such is life… sometimes he acts gruff if you’re being unreasonable dramatic about whatever you’re jealous of, but most times he tries to play it cool, reassure you that he doesn’t like who or whatever more than you—gives you a pat on the head, pokes at your cheek briefly, if he’s feeling really happy about you having your paws on him you might get a kiss to the side of your head; all his silent way of calming your nerves and saying “good girl,” because that’s the reaction he expects of you. Honestly, he’ll do whatever it takes to make you happy if you really are upset with him, because he loves you and he doesn’t want you to feel badly, but also because he’s a little bit giddy that you want all of his attention like this, so who is he not to give it to you

[nyankoizumi]

Looking at each other with their autistic eldritch horrors eyes

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

He definitely meant the sword, right?

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nightswatchdisbandmentera]

It’s interesting how Ned Stark’s dishonor has such far reaching implications throughout the plot. There’s a great irony in how rigid he is in his honor, yet he too fell victim to lust just as many men have before him. It’s not such a big deal if you think about it. I mean, all he did was to father a bastard, and how many men of his station have done the same? So it gives comfort to the rest of Westeros that even an honorable fool like Ned can stoop so low and be just like them. And we see that Ned’s dishonor affects so many characters. Jon Snow internalizes that he’s the shameful product of it and that causes him to join a penal colony, forever driving his need to prove that he too can be a worthy son of Ned. Catelyn Stark is constantly grappling with what it means to be a victim of it (to the point that she resents Jon and fears for her own children’s claims). It’s something that Jaime Lannister references in captivity, reasoning that he at least remained faithful to Cersei whereas “honorable” Ned Stark cheated on his lady wife. Robb probably saw the effects of Ned’s dishonor on his mother and brother, which probably drove him to break his marriage pact with the Freys and marry Jeyne Westerling (something that hastened his doom). Even Cersei dares to make a sexual pass at Ned while being accused of treason, no doubt emboldened in part by the knowledge that Ned at one point fell to lust. And everyone else knows of Ned Stark’s bastard (to the point that Davos gets some random exposition about how Ned dishonored himself on a fisherman’s daughter). Ned’s one act of dishonor is one of his most recognizable character traits and actually has a lot of implications throughout he narrative as it drives how many characters navigate the world around them. So isn’t it funny how it was all a lie?

[transmasccofee]

honestly one of my fav things that isn’t ever talked about with Kusuo is that he is honestly when you actually examine him, a pretty normal teenager. He’s insecure, he cares a lot about his mom and is scared of making her mad, he gets invested in other peoples drama, he dislikes PE, he hates being spoiled for things, he has an embarrassing crush that his friends judge him for, he has an awkward relationship with his dad and fights with his brother, he wants to be protected.

Like underneath all the unfamiliar stuff, he is honestly Just Some Guy.

[br1ghtestlight]

btw. if you even care

[hollenka99]

What I thought Bad Touch was going to be: Siffrin is going to finally grow comfortable enough to be touched more and he's going to finally tell Isa that it's cool to touch his shoulder. It will be a really nice bonding moment between them. I can't wait to reach this part of the game :D

Bad Touch:

Me: D:

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 Damian

If you really think about, Damian's situation in the clone^2 au is... kinda tragic? Especially in the early months of his arrival. Like,,, think about it. Damian has always known he was a clone of Damian Wayne, that he was a copy of the blood son. There was nothing 'original' about him, not even his name (of which at least Danny has that). He was just... a replacement. A disposable one, to boot.

And he knew that, to an extent, by the time he was six years old. he might not have been actively acknowledging it -- he's six years old -- but deep down he knew. And like, he's six years old. Every small child craves the love and affection of an adult, especially their parents, and even though he knew he was clone, I imagine he still considered - and still does consider, somewhat - Talia and Bruce as his mother and father. And I really doubt he was... getting it?

Now, I know Talia loves Damian, her son. At least in some interpretations she does, and in this au she does. But... a clone of her son? I'm not so certain if she would have the same affection for baby Dames as she would for Damian. I don't think she would treat him badly, but I don't think Talia would treat him warmly either. Kinda just, distant. Colder than she would have been with OG Damian.

And, I know I've mentioned Damian's arrival from Danny's point of view, and its kind of comical kind of insane from his perspective -- a little boy clone of Damian Wayne falls through a portal and immediately attacks him. That sounds like a bad joke.

But, if you think of this from Damian's point of view? It's like he just got dropped into a scary movie. Like, think about it. You're six years old, and suddenly a portal, as green and as swirling as your grandfather's pools, opens up beneath your feet and sucks you through.

After an intense bout of vertigo, you end up in a massive, urban city -- completely different from the rural mountain palace that you lived in for the last six years of your life, and in this city, you don't know any of the language. You don't know what anyone is saying, you can't read any of the signs - you are completely stranded, away from home.

And then, to make things worse, you're facing a figure with a terrifying mask and eyes as burning green as the portal you fell through. Of course Damian's first instinct, six years old, is to attack. He's terrified.

And this figure, he's not a good fighter, but he's fast, and he dodges you quickly. He grabs your sword with his hands, and tries to restrain you, saying something in a language you don't know. Naturally, Damian is just scared. He's six! He'd just be learning how to read if he was normal child going to school.

This figure halfway through the fight yanks off his mask -- he realizes you're scared -- and looking at you now, is a youthful version of your father. This is a clone of your dad, someone you have never met but, six years old, still wants to. Damian gets defensive. This is an imposter.

But this imposter eventually gets you home with him - and he's using his little box, his phone, to communicate with you through a mechanical voice speaking in arabic. and it's frustrating. The boy, the imposter, can say whatever to you just fine, but trying to talk back is a hassle and a half. He's six, he doesn't have that much patience.

He wants to go home.

And so he keeps trying to run away. He keeps trying to find out of this hellish concrete jungle, and he keeps getting lost. It's loud, and busy, and there are people talking to you and you don't understand them, and there are rules and signs you don't understand - Damian tries to cross the street and nearly gets hit by a car. He doesn't know how the road signs work, he was never taught. They didn't get to that.

And he gets lost. And it gets dark, and Damian is brave, but he is six, and this is the worst stress he's been under in all his six years of life. He wants, desperately more than anything, to go home. Why wouldn't he? The only stable... semi-stable environment he was in just got ripped out from under his feet, literally! He wants his mother.

And it's not happening.

But there's something good to be said, at least. The imposter that looks like his father always comes and finds him, no matter what. He could have left that morning, and he will find Damian at midnight, frazzled and worried, and carrying an extra jacket with him because it is cold in Amity Park and Damian is six years old.

And sometimes Damian attacks him - he's scared and stressed and he doesn't want to be here. And every time he catches the sword. Even though Damian can see it cut into his hand and pearls of blood well up and stains his fingers. Even though Damian can see him wince in pain and bite his lip, he still catches it.

But with that little box, he coaxes Damian to come back with him. It's cold, it's dark, Amity Park is unsafe at night. They can figure something out tomorrow, please. And every time, he agrees, reluctantly. And the imposter takes the extra jacket he brought with -- a flannel, a hoodie, a jacket -- and he wraps it around him. It's warm, Damian's clothes are not that thick, and even though he thinks he might hate this imposter, he still sticks close to his legs as he leads him down the street.

And sometimes the imposter carries him, because Damian's shoes are not that thick, and he cuts his foot on broken glass while they're walking home. The imposter sits in the bathroom with him and carefully cleans the cut out, and makes sure it doesn't get infected.

There's hope you know, he still has it. His mother will be looking for him. She'll be worried. He's important to them. Damian may not be the original, but he is still a blood son. He is still her son. She will come find him. This nightmare will end soon. He can go home.

And then weeks pass, and nothing. Then months, and nothing. His family is not coming for him, and it hurts. Hurts more than anything. And yet while that happens, the boy he's attacked, and hurt, teaches himself arabic in order to speak to him. He takes Damian out of the house one afternoon and buys him new clothes, or tries to. And then he keeps buying him new clothes. He gives him blankets and gives up his bed to him until they can get him one himself, and steadily he teaches Damian english.

This boy is kind. Kinder than Damian's ever experienced, and he doesn't know what to do with it. He's devastated by the fact that he is not as important to his family as his family is to him. What do you do when you're six years old and you learn something like that? When a random stranger who looks like your father is kinder to you, and cares more about you than your family did?

And then Damian tells him he's a clone. He's Damian Wayne's clone, and he tells him his purpose - that their grandfather made him to kill him. And the boy, the imposter, Damian thinks he probably already knows that he's a clone. But he doesn't say that. He just nods, and asks him if he wants to tell his original about him.

Damian says no. He doesn't want to. He's tired of living in the shadow of his original. He wants to keep this to himself. This is his. For once, all of this is his.

And to his surprise, the imposter doesn't try and convince him otherwise. He just nods, and says okay. And when Damian asks why, the imposter - his brother - looks at him and says.

"I don't care about Damian Wayne. I care about you." And in Damian's gobsmacked silence, his brother continues. He tells him that if Damian doesn't want to tell his original that he exists, then they don't need to. They don't need to worry about the LoA going after him, because clearly if his 'grandfather' needs to make a clone of Damian in order to take him out, then whatever it was that Damian Wayne was doing to keep himself safe, was working.

"Wayne already has people in his corner, he's got Gotham's army of vigilantes to keep himself safe." his brother says with his eyes as blue as moonlight. "You, however. Do not." And he continues, and says that if Damian Wayne has the same training as Damian does, then he will be fine. He doesn't need to be aware of his clone. Because if DW doesn't know about Damian, then the LoA doesn't either.

And here's the thing. Damian would not have survived in the LoA for long. Not as a clone. No matter what, he was going to die no matter what he did, and sooner rather than later. The sword of Damocles was always hanging above his head in the League of Assassins.

That portal, and meeting Danny, saved his life. There's no way around it. And to an extent Damian knows this even at six years old. He may not be aware that he would've died, but he knows that meeting Danny was the best thing to happen to him.

It's no wonder after that, that Damian is as clingy to Danny as he is. Danny is the first person he's met to offer him unconditional love, with no strings attached, only pure affection.

[foxcort]

i think it would’ve been better if rhysand hiding his wings chafed a bit. like his body prefers to have them out and that hiding them goes against what’s natural to him. but he does it as a way to ‘fit in’ with the rest of High Fae society who would probably not take him seriously or treat him as lesser if he showed up to a meeting with his wings out. i think it would humanize, for lack of a better word, him if he had moments around feyre or the ic where he lets his wings out and it’s a relief to, instead of using them as a scaring tactic or a display of strength.

[artiststarme]

Steve couldn’t understand why the Party wanted him around. He didn’t see why anyone would want to hang around some deadbeat that peaked in high school, he certainly wouldn’t. Case in point, all of his friends were going somewhere. Dustin was a genius, Robin was brilliant, and Eddie was going to be a world famous rockstar like Freddy Mercury was. Max was healing nicely and she would be something important, Lucas was great with people so he’d have a bright future, and Mike was… passionate. El and Will were fabulous so he was sure they would amount to everything.

Why would any of them drag themselves down with Steve? Robin could choose so many other soulmates better than Steve. He couldn’t relate to being a “band geek” in high school or working full time to save money for college, he couldn’t even get into college. In his mind, anyone could be a better friend to her than he could.

And why was Eddie dating him? Beautiful, smart, strategic, funny Eddie. He could have anyone he wanted and yet he settled for Steve. No matter how many times Eddie told him he loved him and couldn’t imagine life without him, Steve couldn’t wrap his head around it. What was so special about himself that all of these people stuck around?

Nothing had changed over the years, really. He was still the neglected boy sitting on the bleachers after baseball practice, waiting for his parents to come pick him up. Even back when he was little, his parents knew he was nothing special. They’d taken the first flight out of Hawkins and had hardly looked back since.

Hell, even Steve’s friends in high school figured it out. Tommy and Carol hadn’t said a word to encourage him to stay, they sent him away with silent glares and indifferent shrugs as if being a friend to Steve was more of an effort than it was worth.

And Nancy, his first heartbreak. She dropped him like everyone else always had. As soon as another boy showed her kindness and affection, she dropped Steve like a hot potato and broke his heart on the way out the door.

Steve knew it was only a matter of time before the Party grew tired of him. Every outing, Steve watched them like it would be the last time. Because just like everyone else, they would all leave and move onto better things. And Steve would be left broken with no one to pick up the pieces.

[moeblob]

I love Chris so much you guys.