#that's how badly they wanted a child. that's how badly they wanted to be parents.

[luludeluluramblings]

Hi so I was having some brainrot regarding your small-town-neglected-meta reader and I wanted to share them with you!

One thing I've been thinking about alot is the way readers powers work and what kinds of weather they're likely to create, etc. One thing I specifically thought about is that readers powers definitely have to come from her mom's side. Bruce and no else in Bruce's biological line have powers so readers mom has to have the meta gene. I was thinking that maybe readers mom also controlled the weather a bit, maybe not as strong as reader can but still had some powers.

Like creating little drizzles, maybe some dustdevils, and little snow storms. Because her powers were so weak she never really used them for much, maybe to help out her own parents on the farm but that's about it(using her rain powers to easily water the crops)

In that same line of thinking I also wondered if readers little brother also has superpowers. Maybe the way his powers work or appear are bit different than readers because of they have different dads(I imagine Bruce has really strong genetics. If Damian is any proof of that lol)

One little crank in this little headcanon though is that Nana and Gramps would also have to have superpowers. But then I reread the first chapter and thought about One of the phrases you used to describe how reader got in Bruce's hands.

"but blood is thicker than water in the eyes of the court."

That specifically makes me think that Nana and Gramps are actually readers little brother biological grandparents and not theirs.(what happened to their bio grandparents 🤔)

But anyway, one last thing I wanted mention is how badly I want to see reader using their powers more freely when they're back in small town. Like they aren't afraid to use their powers to make it super windy and have fun with their little brother up on the sky. Or causing a blizzard just so they can have a snowball fight and make snow-men with their little brother. Or even accidently cause a power outage because someone pissed them off! No more suppressed emotions just freedom. (Also reader crying in the middle of the rain they made in front of their parents graves(they wanted to be buried in their hometown) would be so tragically fantasic.)

Anyway I know this is a lot to read and I'm sorry if I seem a bit scrambled but I wanted to send this to you just cause I had so many ideas floating up in my brain I couldn't stop thinking about it all. Thank you for listening to me ramble, I hope your doing amazing🩷

Your call this bain-rot, Imma call it fertilizer. This is long as mess, but I think I addressed everything. Lots of Smalltown!Reader lore and I made a Family Tree to help explain if needed.

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

Smalltown!Reader's Family Tree:

Complicated little bugger, ain't it? I didn't add Stephanie or Barbara because Bruce technically never adopted them or fostered them. This isn't an official thing, I made this and it was composed of little bits of information I found online. So some of this stuff might not be lore accurate.

Also, while I was researching I found out that Bruce's middle name was apparently Patrick, after his grandfather at one point.

Now, time for the pseudo science.

I consider the meta gene to be a genetic trait carried down by a parent. That would be Momma/Adeline, in this case. She carries the gene. Now, the meta gene does not always activate even if one has it. So, no, Momma was not making mini storms for us. She was, however, very encouraging of Reader using their abilities. It takes an event, usually a traumatic one, to activate the gene. (Little Brother could be getting power's in the next chapter, though.)

As for Nana and Grand Daddy we have this:

They don't have the gene, so they don't have abilities. (Which doesn't me their harmless.) They are Reader's Step-Grandparents, but they've grown to love them all the same. Now, in court, it is preferred for a child to go to the nearest blood relative after their parents die. Or, at least, that's what I roughly know from what the court in my state is like. I'm not from Louisiana or New Jersey, where Gotham's located, so maybe it's different. But, this is fiction. This is why Nana and Grand Daddy didn't get custody of Reader, though. Plus Bruce is rich with a bunch of adopted kids, on paper he looks like the best option.

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

I really love the thought of Reader using their abilities for silly little things while back in Smalltown, at least before things absolutely go to hell in a hand basket. So I'll probably include a bit. (They used to do things like that before moving to Gotham, definitely.) Something I want to mention is that Reader likes to make it rain when their happy. It's their favorite weather, they love it. So a grave scene might be a bit different. (I have to include that now. Thank you for that idea! Frick, Part Eight about to be long af.)

☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎☁︎

If your curious about Reader's other grandparents, they just died from old age and health problems. I like to think that Reader had a close relationship with them. Calling them MawMaw and Gab for their nicknames and having spent a lot of time with Reader and their Little Brother before they died. (I'm sorely tempted to just commit to rewriting this with the OC I based Reader off of so I can include all this backstory to highlight how different their life in Gotham is compared to what it used to be, but I best finish what I started first.)

(Side Note: It's very common in the American south for people to give their grandparents nicknames. I have some for my southern grandparents, while I call my northern grandparents just plain Grandma and Grandpa. The nickname can vary and is usually what ever the first grandchild comes up with.)

Thank you for sending me this ask! Stuff like this actually inspires me so this was wonderful. Hopefully this helps. (Now to get back to work on my writing, I've been draggin' my feet again.)

[infoglitch]

Just a man.

(look, I've been listening to epic: the musical and I can't stop thinking about adult jaune seeing a baby cinder and struggling on whether he should kill her or not. So you all have to suffer now.)

Jaune didn't know how, nor did he care. As he found himself in a room in front of a baby's crib as he saw her. A sleeping baby with burning amber eyes staring at him. The eyes Jaune grew to know, and despise.

He unsheathed crocea mors as he raised it above his head. Blade pointing down, ready to be blunged and end it.

Jaune took a deep breath as after a minute he dropped his sword as it hit the wooden floor. Jaune fell to his knees as he looked at the child. He knew what she would become but-

Jaune: I can't hurt you.. but I want to so badly..

Jaune looked at the baby as he carefully reached in, the infant grasping his finger as she giggled. Jaune almost smiled at the sound as he thought back to a brighter memory.

Jaune laid in bed as he held Ruby close with the red reaper clutching their 5 year old son.

Jaune: he's so.. peaceful, just years ago he was crying his head off.

Ruby: well it's not like a lot can't happen between being 9 months old to 5 years.. makes you remember how much time there is in life.

Jaune: yeah..

Jaune brought a hand towards their son as he combed it through his hair. It was pitch black, with red peppering it.

The young boy stirred slightly as he shoved his head in closer. With Jaune having a warm smile.

Jaune: he's going to be a great man.. I can already tell.

Ruby: well, his parents are two huntsmen sooo..

Jaune: id more say his parents are a novice huntsman and exceptional huntress but.. sure thing rubes.

Jaune stared at the infant before carefully picking her up and cradling her.

Jaune: I should.. I should hate you with every fiber of my being, every ounce of my soul.. but you.. I can't.. I know why I should.. you grow up into.. her. But you're just a girl, an innocent child.. you almost look like..

Jaune pressed against the wall before sliding down onto the floor, sitting. He crossed his legs and began stroking the infant's head.

Jaune couldn't tell if he was holding the woman whose neck he wanted to wrap his hands around and watch the light leave her eye.. or a daughter.

Jaune released a hick as tears began to roll down his cheeks. He released another hick before he began to sob.

Jaune: dear oum.. dear oum how could I hurt a daughter?..

The ending doesn't have to be set in stone, right?

@spahhzy @epic-arc get your asses over here, this war ain't over yet.

[smolandweirdwriter]

FUCK

aelwyn abernant i??? don't hate you???

[wormieapple]

i am once again thinking about emma

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

6. “Not to be dramatic, but I’m back from the dead. Hope y’all missed me.” With Virgil and Remus?

Title: On a Stormy Sea of Emotion

Word-Count: 1.7k

Summary:

"Not to be dramatic, but I'm back from the dead. Surprise!" Remus shoots a pair of finger guns, droplets of blood spraying out from his finger tips, "Hope y'all missed me."

The cloaked figure, the target of his finger guns, does not move. Their facemask, elegantly carved to mimic a raven, stares Remus down apathetically.

Remus laughs, clasping his hands behind his neck as he leans against a building that makes up the alleyway of their standoff, "C'mon, old man. I clawed myself out of the grave and this is how you treat your 'beloved son, departed from the earth too soon?'"

OR: a Superhero AU featuring Jason Todd coded-Remus.

Pairing: parental dukexity

Warnings: Superhero AU, Death mentions, blood mention, vomit mention, implied self harm, pstd flashback, morally grey characters, angst with ambiguous ending

Thank you for the prompt! This infected my brain all last night and today, hope you enjoy <3

-

Killing isn't that hard of an action, really. There is a million ways to kill someone. Guns, knives, poison or the way Remus liked it--using your bare hands. It wasn't always the most effective, but when your target knocks your knife out of your hands--well, then you gotta go for the jugular.

Remus hums as he picks up his knife, examining it. The blood dripping from its blade landed on his gloves, coating it with a metallic stench. One time as a kid, he received a paper cut and out of curiosity, he stuck his finger inside his mouth to taste his own blood.

It just had a copper tangy taste, not very appetizing. But well, he's never tried someone else's blood, what if it had a different taste? Would a greedy drug lord's blood taste too greasy? Tainted by their lack of remorse and regard for the suffering and lives destroyed in their avaricious pursuit of wealth?

He is almost halfway to enacting on such an impulse, when something shifts behind him. He turns around swiftly, his knife meeting nothing but air. But there is something there, or rather someone.

Remus cackles, his eyes darting around his surroundings. There, in the shadows of the nearby dumpster. He lowers his knife, putting it away for now.

His heart clangs loudly against his ribcage as his ears began to clamor with a loud ringing noise. This moment has always been inevitable since the second he decided to remain in this hellish city.

Remus is many things, but he is not a fool nor is he a coward. He is exhilarated this moment has come at last. Not terrified.

"Hello daddy dearest," He calls out, "it's been a while."

His words are enough to draw out the cloaked figure from out of the shadows.

"Not to be dramatic, but I'm back from the dead. Surprise!" Remus shoots a pair of finger guns, droplets of blood spraying out from his finger tips, "Hope y'all missed me."

The cloaked figure, the target of his finger guns, does not move. Their facemask, elegantly carved to mimic a raven, stares Remus down apathetically.

Remus laughs, clasping his hands behind his neck as he leans against a building that makes up the alleyway of their standoff, "C'mon, old man. I clawed myself out of the grave and this is how you treat your 'beloved son, departed from the earth too soon?'"

He already knows the truth; maybe there was a time this man had regarded him as a beloved son. Back when Remus had been a quiet, subdued child, perfectly manageable and obedient. But that time had long passed.

"I know I probably should've stayed dead but you know me! I'm not great at following rules."

Virgil Storm, or in this case, "The Raven" still doesn't do anything. It is a little unnerving, actually. Remus had expected there to be harsh words thrown his way, or perhaps even be pinned into a chokehold by this point in the interaction.

The Raven doesn't kill. During his first bout at the whole being alive thing, that been a contentious point between the two. Yet, would an abomination like Remus count as a living being?

"And," Remus says abruptly, shifting his weight against the wall, "you can't kill me. You can try, but like. It won't work. I jumped off like a twenty story building--went splat! Like a bug, it was really messy, but I didn't die. Um, you can take a DNA sample to prove it's me--"

"Remus?" The Raven speaks at last, his voice garbled and gravelly from the voice modifier of the mask.

"Yeah, it's me. I mean, we both know Prince Boring doesn't have the guts to pull off a prank like this," Remus smirks, "I'm sure he's happy that I haven't been around to play screamo when I have the aux or fill his backpack with severed Barbie doll heads."

The Raven's cloaked figure starts staggering towards him. Remus moves to stand upright once more, his body tensing. He can take the punch, it'll hurt but it won't leave any bruises. Remus has done enough experimenting to know he can't be physically harmed anymore. At least not permanently in any way that matters.

But rather a punch thrown his way, the Raven's arms seize hold of him. Not around his neck, but around his body, as the Raven leans around him, his cloak wrapping around Remus like a blanket. He is...hugging Remus? What the fuck?

A cold pricking sensation hits Remus, spreading out through every inch of his body. But he does not move to resist the Raven's embrace.

"I'm sorry," His adoptive father murmurs, "I made so many mistakes, I was afraid but I shouldn't have allowed my fear to control me in the way that I did--"

"Aren't you paranoid?" Remus whispers, "What if I'm not actually Remus? What if I'm just a shapeshifter pretending to be him? Or--or something else?"

"But I know you're you. Do you really think I wouldn't have investigated the assumed grave robbery of my son's corpse?" The Raven counters, "I already have a DNA sample I collected from your confrontation with the Dragon Witch analyzed."

Of course, of course Virgil already had a DNA sample. To any sane person, this might've been a horrifying realization. But for Remus, who spent ten years under the man's roof, this was perfectly normal behavior of a man obsessive enough to run around as a nonpowered cloaked vigilante.

"Remus, you have every reason to hate me or even Roman," The voice modifier pitched upwards in an odd high tone, "but would you'd be willing to come home for at least Janus's sake?"

Remus forgets how to breathe for a moment. There are many reasons why he hasn't sought out his family. He isn't sure if he is willing to accept Virgil's apology, much less risk seeing Roman's face again. But Janus is different. He has always understood Remus in the ways the others never did.

Despite Janus being Virgil's "man in the chair" as it were, he has never operated with the same morals. Remus will never forget the time some henchmen broke into their secret hideout while Virgil and Roman had been away on a mission. Janus had not hesitated to put lead directly into their foreheads.

"I'm afraid I don't indulge in the same mercy as your father," Janus had said, tidying up the mess they'd left behind, "It is my duty to preserve the safety of those I've been sworn to protect, even if comes at the lives of others."

The Raven is a vigilante that is shrouded in mystery. There are rumors that circulate the streets that the Raven is inhuman, a being that moves swiftly and strikes without warning. Some even dare to whisper about the unfortunate ends that some of the Raven's victims have met. What they don't know is that last bit is all of Janus's doing.

It's why Remus has never understood Virgil's hypocrisy. He'll turn a blind eye to Janus's actions but Remus, roughing up a thug a little too harshly? Oh no, no, no, that was the most heinous thing Remus could ever do.

(He wonders what his adoptive father thinks of his actions not only tonight, but the past few months. Isn't this everything his father feared and more? Putting aside the whole "not being dead" thing, isn't this enough to make him irredeemable in the Raven's eyes?)

"Janus?" Remus hesitates, "would he be willing to make his tea?"

"For you, I am sure he is willing to prepare a full spread of pastries along with a pot of tea. He has...missed you a lot, Remus."

Remus's stomach rumbles. He hasn't eaten in weeks--not since he realized his body technically doesn't need food to survive. But he does need Janus's pastries. Those pastries are never a want, but a necessity.

"Okay, I'll go." Remus says, craning his neck to meet the Raven's gaze, "but only because I'm hungry."

Somehow, this causes a snort from his adoptive father. The closest thing resembling a laugh that the Raven will ever do. When he is not the Raven, and is simply Virgil--sometimes the man will actually laugh. Even so, that snort is the closest thing to a laugh that Remus has heard from the man in close to a year before his death.

Remus's legs buckle beneath him, almost bringing the Raven down with him. But it's not from the shock of the old man laughing. No, it's more likely his body protesting his week long streak of not sleeping.

It seems even though he doesn't require as much sleep as before, he still requires a certain amount of it. Or at least, that is what makes the most sense in his hazy racing thoughts.

"I've got you," Virgil whispers, his words unfettered by the voice modifier, "you're safe now."

Arms gather underneath him, as a long Kevlar cloak is draped around his wiry figure. An unwanted memory drifts to the surface; a time where his kid self demanded to be carried home and the Raven obliged without complaint. Roman had trailed after them, begging to be carried as well.

Janus had taken one look at their return (Roman clinging to Virgil's back like a baby koala while Remus was cradled in his arms) and simply raised an eyebrow. But it was clear through his stifled breathing that he found the entire thing comical.

Remus doesn't want to fall unconscious. He'll deny it, protest it with a wide grin and a cackle, that death doesn't scare him. But he is terrified of pitch black darkness.

He fears a confined undetermined space that is meant to seal him away deep in the ground. He fears wood splinters underneath his fingernails as he chokes on dirt as he continues to dig upwards, driven by an urge to survive--to break out of the ground to blessed, fresh air. He fears staring at a gravestone and just laughing until he started vomiting clods of dirt.

What if Virgil is lying about Janus? What if he decides to bury Remus again, this time in a coffin made out of titanium or reinforced concrete--dooming him to a living death?

"No," He mumbles, attempting to grasp tightly to Virgil's cloak, "I don't--"

But his eyes flutter shut against his volition, and he can only hope that they truly did miss him enough; that the words carved on his gravestone were genuine and sincere.

Remus Seagrove

20XX-20XXX

Beloved Son, Brother, Friend

Dearly Missed and Departed from the Earth too Soon

[scattered-winter]

every day i kick a rock and bash my head into the wall because i'll never get to go on a big space adventure and become tightly close-knit with my new found family up there <//3

[fellsilver]

It does suck that you can never think about the Seven — or any of Mys.tra's Chosen — in relation to parenthood without also considering why Mys.tra wanted those children to exist and what effect that has on everything

[pwurrz]

childe always prided himself on his ability to maintain a proper, sophisticated composure. outside of battle, he was polite, respectful, formal. donning a mask of false calm had been a skill he acquired at a young age, so lessons in proper harbinger etiquette only reinforced habits he was already familiar with.

the only person who was easily able to break childe’s composure is zhongli.

the first time childe felt his mask slipping was when zhongli gave him an unexpected, heartfelt compliment. a simple confession of his feelings, from zhongli’s point of view. he admitted he enjoyed spending time with childe, and that childe brought joy and something to look forward to in his daily routine. how childe had become one of his dearest friends, and how he cherished that friendship.

for zhongli, he was just stating a fact. but for childe.. he felt his cheeks burning up, and for the first time in a long time he stuttered, floundering for a response while looking anywhere but in zhongli’s eyes. zhongli had laughed, not at him, but a soft, fond laugh, like he was pleased he made childe react in such a way. he made sure to say so, much to childe’s chagrin as the redness in his cheeks spread to the tips of his ears.

from that point on, childe decided it was ok if he relaxed around zhongli a bit. it was ok not to be so formal and proper all the time. zhongli was his ‘dear friend’, after all.

the second time zhongli made childe lose his composure was when he revealed he was the geo archon. when it was discovered that for the entire course of their relationship, zhongli had been lying to him. he had pretended to care for childe, pretended to befriend him, all to get childe to lower his guard. when childe found out he was nothing but a pawn to zhongli.

his heart ached and his eyes stung, self deprecating thoughts swimming frantically around in his mind. but he forced himself to push down his emotions, smothering them until he could barely feel anything. he didn’t need to embarrass himself in front of zhongli more than he already had. he could wait until he was in the privacy of his own home before breaking down.

zhongli ultimately didn’t give him the chance.

he knew it was wrong, to follow after childe and attempt to force a conversation between them so soon after his betrayal. but zhongli couldn’t stand to see childe so upset, heart hurting knowing he was the cause of childe’s pain. it was selfish, but he needed to correct his mistake, to apologize for hurting childe as soon as he could.

when he showed up on childe’s doorstep, zhongli had anticipated anger. he was prepared for yelling, for scathing words, even for childe to lash out physically.

what he wasn’t prepared for was childe’s anger quickly melting away, being replaced with round, wet eyes, shaky breaths and a quivering lip.

he definitely wasn’t prepared for tears.

“it’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?” childe bit out, his efforts to hastily wipe his tears away and not let zhongli know he was crying in vain as his eyes quickly welled up again. “i’m supposed to be the tsarista’s fearless vanguard, but instead i got my heart broken because i fell for the cruel tricks of a god.”

no amount of desperately telling himself to keep it together could stop childe from breaking down at that moment. zhongli showing up at his door was like ripping a bandaid off a wound before it fully recovered, or pressing a fresh bruise. he couldn’t help but react to the emotions washing over him, waves of sadness and betrayal and heartbreak and embarrassment crashing into him like the waves that lap at liyue harbour.

once again, zhongli had made childe’s mask slip. once again, his words and actions had gotten under childe’s skin and made a place for themselves in childe’s heart. but unlike the first time, where his heart was full of giddiness and the shy and tender feeling of falling in love, now all childe was left with was a painful, empty feeling, and a persistent little voice that told him he should’ve expected this.

[eorzeashan]

Minister: Imperial Intelligence is not being rebuilt. The secrets were your chance to buy protection; now you'll be branded a renegade working unsanctioned missions.

Minister: There will be power struggles. Dark days are coming for the Empire, and I can't protect you.

DAD PART....2!!!

In all seriousness, that's what you're worried about Minister? That's why you really wanted us to retrieve the Black Codex-- just to protect your Cipher, not for anything else?

Excuse me. I need a tissue.

He can pretend it's for the Empire all he wants but the fact that he says it was leverage for you first makes it clear he wanted the Agent to have a way out.

Not for the Sith. Not for the Empire. You.

Thrice over he wanted to protect his agent, and he's lost every chance to so far. Because this agent didn't even hesitate not to put himself dead last in the face of the galactic scheme. Eight was born and raised and taught never to do so, the exact opposite of the self-preservation Keeper extolls, and this is the result. He didn't care about freedom. He sought danger at every turn, and dove headfirst into the worst of the worst just to do what he was made to.

That is most definitely what Keeper regrets: not giving him the opportunity to value himself more, and he continues to fear for his safety even now after it's all said and done.

It was a little too harsh for my liking, but Eight says he doesn't need his protection. It's true; he never has. Keeper wishes he did. Maybe it would've prevented the person Eight became.

Minister: Fair enough. I'll ask the Sith to invite you to my hanging, but a word of advice: renegade or not, you will be needed. Don't share my fate.

There he goes again. Every next sentence is so incomparably guilty in this playthrough as compared to my LS Neutral run as Nine.

Then my agent gets to say goodbye, but not before thanking him for everything he's done, and that he won't be forgotten. It's not enough for me or Eight personally, but I'll take it (for now). Because I think all of us know Keeper cares a great deal more this time around in a personal sense, and he deserves that closure. You are my daaaaad boogie woogie woogie

He'll give him a long-overdue hug when I get around to writing that scene.

Oh, and other honorable mentions now we're at the roll credits: Eight did give the codex to Ardun Kothe and he did kiss Hunter, but man what a dumb death. He definitely yoinked that electrified power glove from him like "don't you dare find a way out now, I'm not done with you" and promptly knocked Hunter tf out.

It's going to be interesting going forward as both the Hand of Jadus and a double-agent for the Republic. But I headcanon that he definitely zipped off to join his Lord in seclusion now that he's free to.

They have their eyes set on something interesting brewing in the far reaches of Wild Space. Something to do with their lost Emperor. ;)

[computerpeople]

i really sympathize with my mom because if i was crazier and less aware of my issues id want babies rn too

[pinkfey]

i hate the “and they got married and had babies” trope so i’m thinking abt the very precious few ocs who have children 🤔 😔

[oflostinfound]

Jewel wraps an awkward arm around Hax’s shoulder.

“Hey, you’re pretty good to eath and me. If that’s anything to go by.” She’s trying to comfort her friend.

@sparedareitspiecesasitflies

@sparedareitspiecesasitflies in reference to This

|| 💛 ||: ❝ That's... different. My parents still had friends. They weren't like that to everyone, friends don't see tough love like family does. They were always cordial with them. ❞

|| 💛 ||: ❝ What if I turn out just like them? If I look in the mirror one day and see my father or my mother staring back at me and it's too late. I've already hurt my baby and I- they-- they hate me- ❞

[lostandbackagain]

cornelia funke's background in social work is apparent all the time in her writing but especially in the way farid CONSTANTLY expects dustfinger to hit him

[robinsnest2111]

I remember the time I tried to fit in with the girls in primary school by forcing myself to be a horse girl like them. I liked horses well enough (tho I was and still am a bit scared of them. big animals who's cues and movements I'm bad at interpreting) and loved the novels and other horse themed trinkets I'd get in the Pony Club subscription box I begged my mother to get for me, collecting Schleich horse figurines was fun as well, even had the stables and all

my parents never allowed me to go to actual horseback riding classes tho, the usual reasoning being I'd not stick to it anyway and it'd be a huge waste of what little money we had. and turns out just liking the same things as the girls didn't cut it. I didn't have the necessary social skills to get along with them anyway.

I kinda miss that phase of my life sometimes, mostly the reading tbh. I'm 100% viewing it through heavily rose-coloured glasses, but there were some good moments for sure.

[navree]

Slade Wilson

assuming you're asking about regular slade wilson and not anime prince slade wilson from MAWS (aka the best thing to have happened to dc animation since kevin conroy agreed to voice batman) as those two are VASTLY different people and it remains stupendous that they really did all that with deathstroke the terminator

How I feel about this character: So, I know my absolute unabashed delight with MAWS Slade and my constant posts about how I want him in every episode might make it seem that I have a lot of thoughts about Slade Wilson in general, but I really don't, it's just that the way they adapted this specific character and how they did it was so off the rails that I fell in love with it. Comics Slade I don't have much to think on, I think he's a decent character even if he's not a very good person, and I think too many people forget that preboot Slade was basically a pedophile because he was fucking 15 year old Tara Markov, but there's enough going on there with his interpersonal relationships, especially when it comes to his family specifically, that's interesting for me to not find him boring and enjoy what can be done with him.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: I've read some Jayde fics that have made me go "can see it", but other than that, probably the main ship I have for Slade Wilson is Adeline. Love a good complex married couple, and from what I remember of the preboot characterization, it's not even as if he stopped caring when she straight up shot him in the head. I like that there's some residual care between them even after the marriage ended, and that for whatever else they're always going to share a bond through their children, and especially in the way that at least one of those children is dead.

My non-romantic OTP for this character: The kids, maybe? He's a shit dad and they hate him but at least it's narratively interesting and can provide for good character moments.

My unpopular opinion about this character: I'm not sure I really have any if I'm honest, since I'm not overtly all that passionate about mainline comics Slade. Maybe it's just that I don't really ship him and Dick, I get the appeal and the nemesis stuff and everything I do, it's just never spoken to me.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I don't know if I've got any hardcore desires to have it ever happen in canon, but I do have a personal headcanon that Slade was involved for a bit in Jason's "train around the world to be the Red Hood" scheme, because I like that idea, and in my interpretation it was motivated in no small part by the fact that, just like Bruce, Slade is himself the father of a murdered child he watched die, and was operating in a sort of "well if Grant somehow came back I really would hope that someone would be there for him and help him out", because I think a lot of people forget that a parent outliving their kid, especially if that kid died violently, is a really heavy thing and is going to weigh on a lot of actions taken for quite possibly the rest of their lives.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Some people really are so obsessed with interpreting canon (and making sure others interpret/see that they interpret canon) as two characters being in a sibling or parent/child relationship that in their own postings they give these characters sibling/oedipus complexes (hope this is the correct term) accidentally.