#they suffer as desmond tries to not get them killed

[teecupangel]

Here's an idea I think you might enjoy: animus but Des is in their head, controlling them. They can feel it and talk to him and everything, ratatouille style.

……………… You know what would be funny, nonny?

If Desmond sucks at controlling them.

Like, we’ve heard the rites of passage in AC games:

We make them jump instead of doing a leap of faith

We accidentally make them climb the wrong high building and the actual viewpoint is the tower next to it

We miscalculate a jump and fall into the waters below or into an unsuspecting civilian

And there’s the game specific problems I refuse to believe I’m the only one who suffered thru it.

So just imagine Desmond trying to control them in the Animus and they know they’re being controlled.

There’s this… change in the air around them. It feels more charged. More… mysterious.

And they also become clumsier for some goddamn reason.

Incidents include:

Altaïr falling into the waters in the docks of Acre for the fifteenth time and he just hisses under his breath, “What is wrong with you?! Do you enjoy seeing me wet?!” and Desmond’s just “Dude, your control sucks!” which leads to Altaïr having an argument with Desmond under his breath about how his ‘control’ (whatever that means) does not suck, Desmond just sucks at this thing he likes to call ‘platforming’ and they both just agreed that, yeah, okay, they’re gonna assassinate Sibrand by going around instead even if it meant Altaïr had to walk slowly and pretend to be praying the entire time.

Altaïr breathing heavily as he glared at the ten (nope, five more guards found him in open combat, damn it) guards trying to kill him. One of them stepped forward and raised his sword. Altaïr readied himself and he still got hit, “(Growl)! Desmond! Get your timing right!” “Your Hidden Blade counter timing is too fast, Altaïr! Let’s just use your swor-” “No! You will learn how to counter using the hidden blade or, I swear, I will find a way to control you and drill it to your body myself!” (Guards just glance at each other, thinking “oh shit, he’s insane”)

Ezio just staring into the sky as he places his hands on his waist as he called out, “Desmond! How about we try this again later?” “No! I almost got it!” “……… It’s been an hour, Desmond. Let’s try clearing this tomb after-” “No! We’re gonna get that Armor today if it’s the last thing we do! Just… this goddamn time limit is annoying! Time limit sucks!” Ezio who is already used to the mysterious voice (who calls himself Desmond)’s strange words: “………… (sigh)”

“I can take them out. Desmond, please, I’m begging you, let me take them out. I can do-” (Desmond takes control and Ezio watches as his recruits take down the targets) The recruits looking at Ezio for approval. Ezio: Bene, that was a good takedown. (inside, Ezio is just tired because Desmond is enjoying all this ‘summoning’ thing too much…)

“Why can’t we have different lethal bombs?! You have the ingredients for it!” “I don’t know, Desmond. Could we just please finish preparing all the bombs?” “Dude, wouldn’t it be better if we have, like, all of these bombs?” “… I don’t think I have enough space in belt for all of them…” “You should get a bag.” “(Sigh) Desmond, we already talked about this. This Animus of yours don’t allow more ‘inventory’, right?” (inside, Ezio is wondering what his life has become that he sorta kinda understand the words leaving his mouth)

“Desmond… I’m imploring you to not mess this up.” “I’m trying, man, this is hard.” “Who are you talking to, Haytham?” “Ziio! No… no one.” “…” “… sigghhh… Desmond say hello to Ziio.” “Hi, Ziio.” “… is this a curse placed upon you white men?” “…” “…” “…” “Perhaps.” “Sorta?”

“You are a Templar. May the Father of Understanding guide us.” “May the Father of Understanding guide us.” “Wait, what?!” “…” “…” “Master Kenway, is something the matter?” “… no, Charles. I simply… remembered something foul.”

“It’s okay, Desmond. You’ll get this soon enough. Just take a deep breath and………… Desmond. Desmond. Please stop doing whatever you’re doing right now. My head is starting to hurt.” “It’s not me! The cameras of these tree view points sucks ass!”

“How is it you came to captain a ship, given the way you sail?” “Oh, screw you, Haytham! You wanna talk shit, why don’t you try doing this shit yourself, huh?!” “…” “…” “…” “… Apologies, father. Desmond was out of line.” “No, I’m not, fuck you, Haytham!” “I can say with absolute delight I have not missed you one bit, Desmond.” “Bite me, tacohead.” “I still do not know what that means.”

[bunny-heels]

Rainbow and Desmond are different from each other in terms of personality, motives, and what they want to appear as, but they're the same in terms of how they got to where they were in the game.

Desmond is implied to have been pushed by his parents to be a doctor, unclear of whether they wanted him to specifically be a therapist, or something else they deem useful. He gives off the vibe that he's very sympathetic and empathetic towards people and tries his best to understand them. Obviously that side of him intensified when he was dating Magdalena, but it was too much, to the point where they had to break up. All he had left was Tonia, who made him feel safe and at peace. But then she went away too, due to him not knowing just the smallest but life saving specific facts, and that nearly broke him.

Rainbow was specifically designed to strike fear and paranoia, and pretty much nothing else. He taps into the parts of the brain that make the imagination go wild and give into the person's deepest terrors. And he was apparently perfect for it, seeing as what Lucas had done under his influence. But he was TOO good at it, to where they had to stop because he was a danger to the enemy AND the allies. Then they restart development, apparently in an attempt to make him less deadly, which results in human experiments. And here comes Rosemary, who's the only one who finds out that he can be used to connect everyone's Collective Unconscious together, and doesn't want the higher ups to know about it so that he can be safely tested. But she was betrayed, and when she tried telling someone the truth, she was killed and replace. And then Rainbow had no one to try and see what other potentials he had other than fear, and now, probably some form of mind control if anything.

So both were pushed to be something of a specific purpose, but became too good at it to the point of being left alone and isolated, then when someone was there to actually try and bring out the best in them, they were taken away from them too. As well, both of them have to do with getting into a person's head, making them think of things that they pushed into the back because they didn't want to confront it.

The end result for them is different, though. Desmond became a therapist, wanting to help people overcome what makes them feel lesser, and at the end wants to save Milton Haven and possibly the rest of the world from being lost under the effects of psychological and bio-weapon warfare, but Rainbow wants the opposite. He doesn't care about people, thriving on their suffering, and wants the world to just end gruesomely.

And it's weird how even though Rainbow is meant to be Desmond's shadow, his complete opposite, and has apparently been with him all his life-for some reason he is also a personification of a government bio-weapon. Why is that? If anything Desmond's shadow could've been some sort of animal, or a guitar, or even a recorder of some sort. But for some reason, he's the one to get a shadow that's also just a representation of a drug. They physically don't have anything connected to them apart from having the same voice, they don't even play the same instrument, Rainbow claims he hates cats-It almost makes no sense.

The only thing that connects them together in some way is age. Desmond is 41 in the current year of the game, 1997, so he was born in, most likely, 1956 or around. And Rainbow was developed in the 60s, which was the same time Lucas was in the war. But even then they have no contact with one another, so it still doesn't add up.

Compared to everyone else's shadows, Rainbow actually seems like his own separate person as well, rather than just being THE person but in a monster form with a violent tendency. He acknowledges being a part of Desmond and even says during their fight "You're literally fighting with yourself", but even with that they seem like two different people.

Either Rainbow attached himself to Desmond at a very young age in the 60s, or Desmond's parents were involved with something that he doesn't know about.

But either way, Rainbow clearly feels attached to Desmond in some form. It was enough to where he didn't immediately kill him like he probably was supposed to, and for Desmond to fight it for probably hours while still somehow coming out alive. Does Desmond have some sort of natural immunity to Rainbow, maybe because they're now truly connected, or was he just lucky? Is Rainbow lying about being Desmond's shadow and maybe his real one is tucked away somewhere in his psyche begging to come out? Why does Rainbow even have this attachment to Desmond? Can he relate to his life story of being pushed to be perfect but still being too much to handle? Losing someone who saw potential in you because you could've done something different? Does Rainbow have any feelings towards Rosemary because of how she viewed his effect? She clearly still had trust that he could be used for good, but had to subside it to get Desmond safe. Is Rose basically Rainbow's "Magdalena"? Or rather is she his "Tonia"? Or a combination of the two?

I really hope in the sequel, if Desmond and Rainbow actually get the proper chances to interact, we learn more about Rainbow as if he were his own person, because he clearly sees himself as such, even with him admitting he's part of Desmond and being a walking manifestation of a drug.

[ironcladrhett]

(The War Between Brothers)

“And?! We were kids once, little brother. Nobody fuckin’ treated us with kindness, and we’re just fuckin’ humans. Not hurtin’ anyone that wasn’t ready to hurt us first.” He stepped close to Emilio now, getting in his face and jabbing his shoulder roughly with a finger. “You’re askin’ me to leave a monster alone. A beast that’ll only spread its malice out into the world, on unsuspectin’ folk what can’t even defend themselves. I don’t give a flyin’ fuck how old it is, you hear me?” He snarled through gritted teeth.

(Starry-eyed)

“What good will that do ya?” he asked, pacing in the darkness, eyes glinting malevolently with a grin the mare could not see. “Calm down… the lights ain’t gonna kill ya. Probably. Well, that’s what we’re here tah’find out, anyway.” Still he paced, heart beating at an elevated rate, the delight writhing its way up his spine. Nothin’ felt better than watchin’ them fuckers suffer. Nothin’.  “My, ain’t you pretty in the light…” he commented in a voice that sounded both saccharine and venomous at the same time.

(Good Omens)

“It wasn’t fair what he did. But he didn’t give you a choice. He wouldn’t have given you a choice either way, don’t you see that? It was always him or mom.” Ophelia stepped closer again, and Rhett flinched. “He was ruthless. Brutal. He tried to put it away for you, but he couldn’t. And he made you… just like him, didn’t he? When he died, you felt like you had to pick up his mantle?”  “Stop,” Rhett muttered, shifting his weight again and hissing in pain, slumping back against the tree as he’d been when they arrived. Ophelia moved closer, and he remained still.  “No, I won’t stop,” his daughter promised with tears in her eyes, her arm raising as a hand reached for him.  “S-stop, I don’t want—I can’t—” The girl’s hand found his shoulder and he had nowhere to go, helpless against her will as she circled her arms around his torso. He wanted to crawl out of his skin, the insect buzz and scratch of being this close to a fae almost overwhelming him, but there was no escape, so he tried to push it down. Bury it like he’d buried his brother. Bury it like he had the truth of his moralities all this time, overlaid by Desmond’s own. Just as he’d been adopted by that hunter community, so too had he adopted his brother’s code. He loved him fiercely, but Ophelia was right. 

(The Burden)

“Fuck’s sake,” Rhett snarled, shaking his head at the poor bastard of a ranger with fresh holes in his head. He turned on Emilio, jabbing an accusatory finger against his chest. “This is why ya don’t watch ‘em to see if they’re up to no good, little brother. This is why ya don’t spare ‘em. Ya fuckin’ kill ‘em when I god damn tell you to.” With an angry huff, he picked the sword back up and slipped it into its scabbard, then looked at Owen. “Forgive the idjit. He’s been havin’ a morality crisis fer a couple years now.” Maybe this would take care of that, he thought. Rather, he hoped. 

(Do It For Me)

Rhett hated being helped. He hated relying on other people. He was better than that, stronger than that. He was old as hell for a hunter, particularly with one so red a ledger as his own. He was a survivor, and he’d not gotten through it by cowering in fear, by hiding behind others. He hated it, but he was resigned to it for as long as Emilio felt was necessary. And what could he do? Abandon the only family he had left? He needed to, he knew that. He needed to get the fuck away from all of them as soon as possible, to keep his mistakes from bleeding into their lives too. But… he couldn’t. Physically, he couldn’t. He didn’t feel trapped, he was trapped. 

[tamiisnthere]

Tami's interactions with Templars

Another idea from @fancysteawberrybeard! Thank you once again! 💗

I will admit that I will use a few Templars, because I don't know much about them, so Tami only had interactions with a few of them. I hope you don't mind. 😊

Tami meets the Templars for the first time when she starts going on missions. They're her enemies, so mostly relationships are hostile, but there are some little exceptions.

Haytham: Although he is the main enemy of the Assassin's Brotherhood, Tami has some respect and fear for him. Once she and Altaïr almost got him, but Edward stopped them, because he is his son, and thanks for that, Haytham successfully escaped from them.

Shay: Haytham's right-hand man and former assassin is a dangerous opponent. But Tami knows his reason for betraying the brotherhood. Once she was injured during one of the missions, Shay was about to shoot her, but then he felt guilty, left her alone and disappeared before her partner came to save her. At that time Tami realized that not all Templars are purely cruel and evil people, but that doesn't mean their actions are right and must be stopped.

Abstergo Industries: Tami had noticed their products before, which were overpriced despite the poor quality. She and her family regard Abstergo's products as a scam. Later, after joining the Brotherhood, she found out that Abstergo Industries is a Templar's company so they could more easily manipulate the public.

Lucy Stillman: In one mission, Tami and some assassins were captured by Abstergo and imprisoned. She met Lucy with Vidic, who felt sorry for the young assassin. Later, when the assassins came to rescue her and the other captives, Lucy decided that she would help Tami escape and accompany her to the assassins. Tami thanks her and promises that if they ever meet again, she won't kill her.

Daniel Cross: He is another former assassin and Nikolai's great-grandson. He trains new recruits for the Templar Order. Tami notices him whispering something like he always hears voices and wants them to stop. Thanks to Rebecca and Shaun, she knows Daniel suffers from the Bleeding Effect, which affects his life, which made her feel empathy for him.

Warren Vidic: He had planned to research the history of Tami's ancestry, which she was against so she wouldn't get the Bleeding Effect. In the prison, she watched helplessly as the prisoners were being tortured, which made Tami cry and rage at the same time. When the assassins came to save Tami and others, Vidic wanted to stop her, but he was assassinated by Desmond.

Juhani Otso Berg: He is an Abstergo Industries agent. Tami only saw him around when she was imprisoned. Truth be told, Juhani is a mystery to her and she doesn't know more about him.

Robert de Sablé: Whoever is Altaïr's archenemy, so is Tami's. He was also a threat to the TaE Family (her adoptive family), because he wanted to take over their land and destroy everything they had built for years. Later, Tami tried to assassinate Robert to save her home, but he easily defeated her. At the last minute he was assassinated by Altaïr.

Charles Lee: Haytham’s another right hand. Connor mentioned that he would kill him one day. Tami doesn't see much Charles during the fights, because he is afraid of Connor.

Cesare Borgia: General of the Templar Order, but he would like to become a Grandmaster and usually complains that he is not. Tami sees him as a power-hungry lunatic and wonders why the Templars tolerate him.

Jamal: He was a traitor to the brotherhood and Tami's first target. Of course Altaïr was going to help her with her first assassination mission, which she was afraid of. When they found him, Tami lunged at him but Jamal fought back and was about to stab her with his dagger. Altaïr, panicking that he will lose his lover, attacked Jamal, who unexpectedly wounded him. Left with no choice, Tami stabbed Jamal's neck with her hidden blade. Tami stared at her bloody hand in horror… She took someone's life… Altaïr calmed her down, dipped the feather in Jamal's blood and hurried back to the bureau.

[101flavoursofweird]

I played MM and I noticed smth that might only be my hc? Ik a majority of the fandom despises Bronev for evil stuff like killing Desmond's family. I haven't played in years so I thought I missed canon material that proved that Bronev killed his own son's family, but I realized that it was just a widely accepted hc... anyways, in the cutscene where Bronev tries to take off Descole's mask, what if he was trying to confirm whether Descole was his son or not? Also what if Bronev really didn't know that Desmond was his son when he presumably went to kill his family? I'm not trying to attack anyone, I'm legit curious because this is such a widely accepted hc yet we don't get actual proof for it

I should preface this by saying I’m not a fan of how Bronev is written in Azran Legacy, and Level 5’s determination to make him out as sympathetic, misguided papa and husband rather than a cool villain always irked me. I felt the same way about Descole, to an extent.

The idea that Bronev didn’t know Desmond Sycamore was his son when his family was killed is a good one. Bronev easily could’ve heard about this archaeologist, Desmond Sycamore, who refused to join Targent and ordered Swift to send out the assassins without a second look into Desmond’s past. 

It doesn’t excuse Bronev’s actions— ordering the execution in such a cold, callous fashion— but makes them a lot less personal and vindictive. Bronev doesn’t know Desmond is his own son, who took on a new identity! Bronev doesn’t know he just ordered a hit on his daughter/husband-in-law and granddaughter! 

This also aligns with Bronev’s actions at the Azran sanctuary, where he orders all of his soldiers to solve the deadly Azran puzzles rather than risking his own life. (Even Emmy!) Bronev doesn’t wants to get his hands dirty. 

It’s only when Bronev reaches the crystal room of the sanctuary that he decides to take a life himself. And if Bronev has read the Azran pillar at the Nest, he must have known something like this was coming. (‘As the guardian’s heart is pierced, let [our legacy] be revealed.’) He must have known it all along when he first took Aurora captive. 

I’m surprised Bronev didn’t order Emmy to do the deed, but then, maybe he thought Emmy wouldn’t go through with that— stabbing the young girl she befriended during adventure…

I really like how hesitant Bronev in that scene before he pierces Aurora’s heart. You can see him sweating! He stares at the sword. He tells Aurora not to look at him, as if she’s making him feel guilty. From this scene, you get the impression that Bronev hasn’t had to take a life before… or at least, not someone so (seemingly) young and innocent. I can imagine shooting someone with a gun is a lot less… intimate than locking them in a box and stabbing them with a sword.

The fact that Bronev was responsible for the death of Desmond’s daughter, and now Bronev is about to stab the girl who reminds Desmond of his daughter, should really hit close to home. 

(And yes, we later find out Aurora is a golem. But Bronev didn’t know about the golems! He seems genuinely shocked when Aurora walks out of the sanctuary, alive.)

Bronev decides that taking Aurora’s life is worth it, after everything he’s been through to get to the Azran sanctuary— being kidnapped by Targent, losing his children, losing Rachel, having Desmond’s family killed, having his two sons team up against him, climbing the ranks of Targent, until he reached the top. He deems all of his suffering greater than an innocent girl’s life. There’s no one else for Bronev to pass the job on to. He can’t lie to himself or anyone else this time. The mask is off! 

So, he goes through with it, and unleashes the Azran Legacy. 

[the-loveliest-lotus]

Chapter 8 of The Wicker Man is up on AO3 and Lucy has finally obtained her rainbow hair. Also introduced Lucy’s late Mom, Angie Desmond (pictured below.) 

Note: Chapter contains adult themes, meaning it starts with a lemon, viewer discretion is advised.

Chapter is roughly 10,000 words long.

It’s absurdly far ahead, but I think I have the perfect family drama between Lucy’s family and Pickles’ family and I just... It’s gonna be beautiful in the worst way when I get around to that chapter probably months and months from now. 

More about Lucy’s Mama Bear below the cut:

Name: Angie Desmond

Sexuality/Gender Identity: Bisexual, cis woman

Birthday: April 19th (Aries/Taurus cusp)

Age at Time of Death: 55

Where is She From: Originally from Austin, TX

Height: 5’5”

Nicknames: Ange (Roger); Mama (Lucy and Pickles)

Love Interests: Roger Desmond, who was at her time of death serving a 20 year sentence for selling weed. They had an open relationship and would have conjugal visits, but they were emotionally exclusive to one another. Were swingers when he wasn’t in prison.

Where She Fits into the Metalocalypse Universe: Lucy’s mother, mother to one of the (eventual) members of Dethklok. She kept Lucy sane while she was in an abusive relationship, and tried to help her as best she could. Acted as an unofficial “adoptive” mother to Pickles, in that she always took care of him when his family was treating him like shit. Angie always had a strong intuition, which is where Lucy inherited hers from.

Appearance: Impossibly young looking for her age, is 55 years old but appears to be more of an older sister to Lucy than a mother, looking like she is maybe 35 in a video that she left for Lucy at her time of death.

Lucy takes after Angie a lot in her physical appearance. Angie has an oval face, blue eyes, and originally had wavy brunette hair. A slender, curvy woman with a psychobilly style and had pink/purple hair at her time of death. Had several face piercings including a nose piercing and dolphin bites.

Personality: Very extroverted, very protective to those she cares about. Would get into fights and win with men twice her size at bars. Loved music like Aerosmith and Reverend Beat-Man, and was the type to drink good booze out of old glass jam jars.

Was very much a “Mama Bear” and was always very protective of Pickles as well as Lucy. Did not get along with Pickles’ family in the slightest, but refused to let Pickles and Lucy suffer because of family drama.

Absolutely devoted to her husband, and would claim until her dying day that he was the only man she ever loved. The two of them did swing, and then when he was in prison they opened their relationship, but they remained emotionally exclusive to one another.

Her love for hallucinogens caused her to give her daughter the initials LSD, and the name seemed like kismet since her favorite actress was Lucille Ball.

Skills and Hobbies: Angie enjoyed DIYing clothing, which was where Lucy picked up the hobby from. She was a punk in her teens and 20s, and her style shifted to more psychobilly as she got older, but she always kept the punk flair and attitude. She was very self-sufficient and would dye her own hair, and eventually she taught Lucy and Pickles how to dye Lucy’s hair.

Angie would bake for fun, and she would always cook for Lucy, Pickles, and Roger when they were around.

She was a biker, and her prized possession was her custom 1952 Harley-Davidson.

Loved to travel when she could, and she loved going to concerts with Roger or with Lucy.

How She Died: Angie was on her Harley on the highway when a drunk driver going down the wrong side of the highway hit her head-on, despite her attempts to avoid him. She died on impact and did not suffer, but her body was very mangled. The driver was also killed in the crash.

Ends up being cremated and Lucy keeps the ashes, which she ends up scattering with Pickles and the rest of the Dethklok gang (Knubbler and Offdensen included) in the California Red Wood forest. Lucy, Pickles, and eventually Roger each get some of her ashes.

[simptasia]

neurodivergence in abc’s lost

i’m gonna be listing off and talking about the canon neurodivergent characters in lost. i won’t be adding characters that i personally headcanon as neurodivergent in some way, what i’m writing here is elaboration upon what has been given to me by the show. please note that none of these people’s conditions or disorders were named in the show, so such diagnoses being named here are me taking that extra step based upon their symptoms

first of all i wanna point out that based on what i’ve seen the show, that the island’s healing powers applies to conditions inflicted upon the mind, not ones inherent to the mind. thats why daniel’s brain damage heals, but people like hurley and locke will always continue to have depression

hugo “hurley” reyes

schizophrenia and depression

our most prominently featured mentally ill character. it might seem bold to label him with schizophrenia when it’s never said that that’s what he has. but during his time on lost, he displays many of the symptoms: paranoia, pathological self loathing, delusions and hallucinations. now, it’s a fictionalized depiction of schizophrenia and that’s probably not even what the writers had in mind but it’s none the less a really, really good and respectful portrayal of it

it would take too long to list off all the times when hurley displays paranoia (heck, it’s easy not to notice how much its a part of his character) and self loathing. delusions? the situations regarding the numbers and his bad luck (canon never ever Proves what hurley believes to be true regarding that stuff)

they did an episode dedicated to hurley having hallucinations. a man named dave who drives him to self destructive behaviour, self hatred and attempted suicide. fun fact: when people with schizophrenia in real life have hallucinations, they tend towards just auditory. hurley gets visual as well as per Rule Of Drama. this is not a bad thing, just a narrative tool

(steering slightly into headcanon for a bit here but i personally ignore the dharma made Hurley Bird they revealed in the epilogue and just take hurley hearing that bird say his name as an auditory hallucination. for two reasons: one, hurley hearing/seeing things that don’t exist is already consistent with his mental state. and two, that bird literally, genuinely did not fucking say hurley)

extra notes

to be clear, in case there's confusion, hurley really does have magical powers. he can talk to dead people. that isn’t a delusion or hallucination. you can understand how confusing and distressing this must be for hurley

he's had a compulsive eating disorder since he was ten due to the pain of his father abandoning him. his struggle with this is well documented

at several points during the show he’s shown to have trouble spelling. he especially confuses his “y(s)” and “ies”. it’s not clear if this is due to poor education or a learning issue. or both, really. it’s safe to assume with him being poor, mexican and mentally ill, that school wasn’t easy for hurley

hurley has unjustifiably lived at mental health institutions on at least two occasions (the first time was against his will, second was volunteer)

john locke

depression

locke suffers from severe self esteem issues, and i know most lost characters do, but i mean to the point of irrational and destructive behaviour. he has an obsession with being deemed special in order to justify his existence. he also suffers jarring mood swings. (he can switch from calm and jovial to angry and defensive at the drop of a hat). when he was wheelchair bound, this threw him into a depression. when he failed to convince anybody to come back to the island, he attempted suicide. he would have gone thru with it too. he will go to extremes to make sure things stay the way he wants them to (killing an innocent woman so they can stay on the island, tying up and drugging boone so he won’t tell anybody about the hatch), and will fall into despair if he fails

also note that the things im saying about locke are not a comment on people with depression. i don’t think all depressed people kill and drug people. those were statements on locke’s character that i believe are a part of his mental state. my point is: he’s emotionally unstable and he tried to kill himself. and i think his extreme need for validation (from people and the universe in general) is especially concerning

to me, this all says to me that locke has clinical depression

locke isn’t as easy as the other people on this list to classify as Canon Neurodivergent but at least to me, i think it’s very obvious. like i feel bad being so vague but like, basically, watch any locke episode

daniel faraday

acquired brain damage, severe memory degradation as well as other neurodivergent behaviours (i’ll go into it)

he’s played by jeremy davies. enough said

okay, jokes aside. at some point in the past daniel and his assistant theresa were involved in some vaguely referred to time based experiments. while she was catatonicized, the accident left daniel severely brain damaged (also daniel spent years doing radioactive experiments without head protection, which would not have helped and indeed that is foreshadowing of this whole debacle)

apparently this left him in a state where he can no longer take care of himself, having been assigned a carer. his most outstanding symptom is that his ability to process short AND long term memory has been impaired

short term: he’s shown to have issues retaining memories from day to day. he wasn’t sure if he had met charles widmore already (he hadn’t). charles lays some exposition on him and when daniel asks why he’s telling him this, charles says, with sureness, that “because by tomorrow you won’t remember this”. counting on that to be an absolute fact seems silly to me but that does seem to the case. again, Rule Of Drama is in play here

long term: he can no longer access memories he formed many years ago, famously the memories he formed with desmond in 1996. all in all, this condition is highly plot convenient. can’t argue with results, really

no, i can keep going, i got more, this is daniel fucking faraday we’re talking about: his ability to remember 3 playing cards has been impaired (note that this is a skill most 4 year olds master), he forgot the secret code the science team were all taught and when he introduces himself to jack there is a long pause, in hindsight implying that daniel forgot his own name

like real life memory conditions, theres varying level to how much he does and doesn’t remember. he’s thankfully not in a 50 first dates situation and doesn’t forget everything day to day. clearly he remembers people if they’re around enough, like during his time on the boat. charlotte, miles, frank, naomi...

upon landing on the island, his memory slowly gets better (considering his condition beforehand, the fact that nobody comments on this is staggering)

when dan is fully healed? i could not say, i could theorize, but such things are nebulous. but still, the times we see dan without his brain damage, he still behaves like a neurodivergent person. just not like he was when he was brain damaged. he stims near constantly, has a tendency to repeat names and words (echolalia) and it’s shown that dan compulsively counts in his head. he counted up to 864 beats, if i remember correctly, which is about 10 minutes of counting in his head. by no stretch of the imagination is that neurotypical behaviour

(im not trying to sound defensive. and i don’t think anybody, anywhere, is arguing that daniel faraday is a neurotypical. unfathomable)

going into headcanon territory again, his ND traits, when not brain damaged, say to me that he’s autistic and/or has OCD and possibly anxiety. thats all theorizing on my part tho. but the fact of the matter is, damage or no, he’s neurodivergent

notes

his apparent need for tactile sensory input is legendary in the lost fandom. in layman’s terms: him pet pet. not just people but objects too. humans, overall, tend to touch things to process input better. many ND people do it more, and it seems daniel is a case of that (i am not making a solid statement on jeremy davies’ neuro state. that’s his business)

he shows an inability to properly process grief

he also shows shocking indifference to his own safety, resulting in reckless behaviour. how much of this is a result of his mental state or his upbringing is up for debate. i think it’s a combo of both

without his brain damage, he appears to have an eidetic memory

danielle rousseau

trauma induced mental illness

pretty self explanatory. the loss of her expedition, husband and daughter, as well as 16 years of loneliness (on THIS island) has resulted in emotional instability for danielle. she’s prone to paranoia, trust issues, irrational behaviour

she’s just not well. she’s right most of the time but she’s not well

libby smith

indeterminate mental state 

libby was institutionalized (the same place hurley was sent to) and placed on medication (which seemed like sedatives to me, based on her expressions). in the show it’s not what clear what put her there, but having just done some research, i’ve discovered that Word Of God says that libby became mentally unstable after the death of her husband dave smith. so this is probably another case of trauma induced mental illness. she must have had a pretty extreme episode to cause her to be sent to a place like that. something to think about

but alas, it’s libby, so not much info. moving on

benjamin linus

anti social behaviour disorder (is my best guess)

oof. depictions of mental illness with characters who are immoral are depictions of mental illness nonetheless. i feel almost silly saying this but: ben is not... okay

ben displays issues (at best) with empathy, compassion and morality. how much he cares about other people is highly debatable but one thing that's certain is that he does genuinely love his daughter. everybody else is ????

but the loving alex thing rules out him being a sociopath or having narcissistic personality disorder. and it is genuine because when he loses it with grief, it’s not a performance, because the only audience is us...

he’s a compulsive liar, lying even when it doesn’t benefit him. lying just because. ben is highly unpredictable, which isn’t inherently a neurodivergent thing, but when a person goes from a calm discussion to strangling somebody, all roads point to Uh Oh (i don’t know the technical terms for Uh Oh). many of his outward emotions are performed (the difference between his fake smiles and few real smiles is noticeable). he’s manipulative, he treats people like objects for his benefit/plans, he’s self absorbed, he has zero issues with murder unless it’s a child. he does have some moral standards. but overall, uh, [just gestures at ben]

also ben is repeatedly offended when other people don’t trust him, which is HILARIOUS, but also shows a cognitive dissonance on his part

hmm i need more here, im gonna break out the big guns

that’s some basic info there and doesn’t that line up with ben?

the article goes on to say that people with this can put on superficial charm. that is, behave friendly and “normal” when they have to. which ben is shown to be able to do

and this

“Serious problems with interpersonal relationships are often seen in those with the disorder. Attachments and emotional bonds are weak, and interpersonal relationships often revolve around the manipulation, exploitation, and abuse of others.”

reminds me of his situation with juliet. and locke. and his “friendships” in general

i snipped the wikipedia article for this because unlike the rest i felt,,, underequipped to talk about this sort of thing

ben being mentally unwell is clear enough in canon and i think this disorder is what lines up best with it. please note that ben is capable of change and growth (like people in real life who have such issues) and like the show i’m not gonna paint him 100% evil or irredeemable. i’m just saying what’s true

notes

ben says at one point that he doesn’t dream anymore. it’s highly probably that this is a lie, but if it isn’t, well that's not good. it’d mean his brain isn’t entering into REM sleep properly, which can lead to emotional problems

ben doesn’t blink as much as most people do, something michael emerson did on purpose. this can apply to some neurodivergent people

it’s shown that he was quite nonverbal as a kid. in the flashbacks in “man behind the curtain” little ben barely speaks

honourable mentions

pretty much all the survivors suffer from PTSD due the trauma of the crash

a great deal of the characters suffer from PTSD from trauma in general due to their awful lifes. like, abusive parents, war, loss of loved ones, etc

and i must note that ben, daniel and locke suffering from parental abuse, ranging from emotional to physical, is something to factor into their cases

claire, similar to danielle, also suffered trauma induced mental illness due to the loss of her baby and feeling like she was abandoned

sayid is depicted as dead inside during season 6 due to The Sickness, so thats like a magical form of depression. and one could argue that he already had regular depression beforehand

boone joked about shannon having bulimia. (whether or not it’s true, boone is an asshole) if it’s true, shannon has an eating disorder, which is considered a form of mental illness. espech one so self image based

self harm

self harm is not an inherent part of mental illness but such concepts are often linked so i felt i should mention some of these, it’ll be quick

hurley’s aforementioned eating disorder

charlie takes heroin as a form of self harm (that isn’t a theory on my part, it’s clear as day that charlie started taking it because his sense of self worth was so low that the drugs felt like the only option)

locke, hurley, (both as mentioned above), jack, desmond, michael and richard have all attempted/nearly commited suicide

so what can we conclude from this? well that's up to you, really. that i love lost a fuck ton? that the actors and writing in lost is amazing? that all the neurodivergent based depth got saved for the boys? yeah

but i wanna conclude with this: a part of what makes lost really special to me is that these people i’ve talked out here? they’ve suffered, and oh boy it was tasty suffering, but all of them, yes even libby, were more than suffering

these people have nuance. one way or another, these people (to varying degrees) were happy at times. silly. funny. angry. opinionated. they loved. they were loved. they lived and breathed as human beings. that means a lot to me

lost is a story of broken people given a second chance. take that as you will

thank you for your time

[aconboyindependent2021]

‘Now and Then’ - current state of play

My film is a re-imagining of the site of Brighton General Hospital next to my home. Until around 70 years ago, a workhouse operated on the site (for details, see: Gardner, J, (2012) A History of the Brighton Workhouses). Aspects of the austere workhouse are still evident on the site today. I began to think about the stories of the residents of the workhouse – what did they have to endure? With this in mind, I bought the above book by a local author about the history of workhouses in Brighton.

I have always been fascinated by the idea that traumatic events in a particular location can be recorded and replayed at a later time in history and that this might be a basis for ghosts and hauntings – for example, in the blockbuster, Poltergeist, and the BBC drama from the 1970’s The Stone Tapes (Sasdy, 1972). This is one of the key concepts behind the film.

After a lot of thought, I settled on the story of the workhouse being told by a single woman, Agatha, whose infant child was taken from her illegally and sold to a rich couple living in Brighton. This is a variation on the common Victorian  practice of unmarried women being compelled to give their children to a foundling home.

The film starts with Aggie telling her story in largely neutral terms and comparing the workhouse and the site’s positive use today as a hospital, but it climaxes with Aggie screaming with the loss of her child, and we see that she is a tormented spectre.The film ends with her anguish fading into a sign on the present site, promoting a nursery for infant children.

The film will be around 5-6 minutes long and will consist of edited original footage taken on the site in the present day. The film will be treated with video effects to alter the pacing, colour and atmosphere of the original footage. I have asked for a drama-trained friend to narrate the film as Aggie and will be using original and library sound effects and music motifs, or possibly drones to punctuate the soundtrack.

Now and Then – influences from other artists

1. Brian Percival - About a Girl

Female voice-over revealing a terrifying truth about motherhood at the end of the film. This film gives a cold dead feeling inside from the casual yet downcast demeanor as the leading character talks about her dysfunctional life and especially the ending, where the girl is revealed to have secretly miscarried a baby and we see her dump it into the canal (“I’ve become good at hiding things”). Both my film and About A Girl attempt to humanise the female main character outside of their tragedies.

2. Tobe Hooper - director of Poltergeist Paranormal activity centred around past events and the presence of aggrieved spirits. This was a film that made an impact on me from its non-stop tension, even before the presence of the supernatural becomes apparent. Tobe Hooper, ever since creating The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974) has achieved many awards, and after this film, it is easy to see why. It also has a similar plot to my initial idea for my film - where a great wrong done in the past creates a ‘haunting’ by aggrieved spirit(s)..

3. Peter Sasdy – Director of The Stone Tape (1972)

The original idea from the film was stones “recording” traumatic events from the past. While the current draft has drifted away from this concept, it still lives on with how Agatha remembers everything about the past as if she died yesterday, despite the superficial veneer of the current day hospital. However, Agatha is a real soul though in my film.

4. David Lynch - Eraserhead, The Elephant Man His black and white films – particularly The Elephant Man In the latter, view of Victorian England shot in black and white featuring cruelty and time-specific sounds, sights and atmospheres. The film always seems to have a sense of foreboding, even when the scene is uneventful, and with a deeply engaging soundtrack. Eraserhead will always always be an influence due to its deliberate disturbing monochrome style, investigation of altered perception and the anxieties of parenthood.

5. James Gardener- Author of: A Complete History Of Brighton Workhouses A detailed and easy-to-understand book centred around the original workhouse in my area. It includes the Brighton General Hospital Site. It helped give a real-life grounding to my supernatural tale.

6. Richard Boden - director of the Blackadder series 4 finale, Goodbyeee The series as a whole has very little to do with my film, but this is a powerful episode whose fade-out ending and closing-sound inspired the cross-dissolve effects and soundscape in my film - coincidentally both are centered with the cruelty of the past and atmospheric sound. Present and past merge at this point. One of the most popular scenes in TV drama/comedy and understandably so too.

7. Piotr Obal – various films and still images Obal is an independent artist who works with art, music and still photography. Occasionally, he teaches youths how to work at the computer like me (!) when he was helping out with an arts award I was studying for. Below is one of his images that has been an influence on me and the film. I love his Photoshop collages and the wonderful images he posts from his native Poland.

                                                        Work by Piotr Obal

8. Nalini Malani- for her immersive installations, ‘disgraced’ women under partiarchy, history and mythology, miscarriages of justice. I found out about Malini when I was writing my essay on her work in the  Diversity module: what started off as just finding out about an artist for the sake of my writing became a long-lasting admiration and inspiration from an artist who not only knows where she is coming from (from her upbringing hugely affected by India and Pakistan’s partition) but willingly sticks her neck out for those oppressed by society and history, and confidently shows her creations to the world. A particularly relevant aspect of her work is her use of the supernatural and mythology stories and myths to highlight aspects of women’s oppression throughout history.

9. Chris Butler- director of ParaNorman A key influence, supposedly aimed at children, I used the same of the spectre in this moving animation, and I was influenced by its themes about the cruelties of humanity and how we “moved on”. The spectre is a ghost of a falsely accused of being a ‘witch’ who wreaks her revenge on those who persecuted her.

It was also a strong influence that is more powerful at its climax and twist. In-depth look at how prejudice destroys lives that are never regained - even  death provides no relief. Butler is a part of Studio Laika, creating animated films that go beyond the norm.

10. Jacqueline Wilson - the writer of the Hetty Feather trilogy and other such Victorian novels such as Clover Moon.

A part of Jacqueline’s writings is her commentary about how unjust the past could be compared to today: even though her protagonists speak in ways that were customary to Victorians, she keeps them relatable the same way she keeps her modern-day protagonists relatable. The writing style of her books inspired certain characteristics of Agatha’s narration, because it was easy to understand yet engaging.

11. David Lean  - Director of Great Expectations (1946) This film, based on the Dickens book,  also brought to mind the cruel period of the Victorian era, and the acting and emotions continued that spirit and my inspiration around my project. I love that it is black and white as well as dialog-centred - I particularly like the formal style of speech - even to express negative emotions- for example:

“Let me point out the topic that in London it is not the custom to put the knife in the mouth for fear of accidents. It's scarcely worth mentioning, Only it's as well to do as others do”.

Miss Havisham, an almost ghostly older woman, in a similar way to Agatha cannot move beyond the terrible wrong done to her - she was left at the alter and devoted her life to training her adopted daughter, Estella, to get revenge on men.I use s similar obsessive, sing-minded hatred to motivate Agatha.

12. Sunset Boulevard (1950)

This film involve a man becoming the object of affection of a former silent movie star, Norma Desmond who overtake his life little by little until she kills him. Norma suffered with the times when silent movies went out of fashion and she is unable to move on, alone in her great house: people told Norma that she had no value and it had an impact on her psyche. She loses all sanity when arrested for killing Joe Gillis as she believes she is back in show business. The film also explores facades; Norma may live a glamorous if not lonely life, but her mental state torments her, like Aggie has with hers as she wanders around the hospital site driven ‘mad’ with grief and anger.  

13. R D Laing: ‘anti-psychiatrist’

'Here was someone explaining madness, showing how the fragmentation of the person was an intelligible response to an intolerable pressure”

Quote from: https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/aug/25/rd-laing-aaron-esterson-mental-illness

 In discussing the concept of my film with a member of my family, I was directed to the psychiatrist/anti-psychiatrist, RD Laing. In the 1960’s and early 1970’s Laing wrote about how a person’s so-called ‘mad’ behaviour was in fact intelligible when their entire situation and experience was taken into account. He and other writers (like David Cooper) talked about the concept of the ‘double-bind’ where a person’s opportunity to make a decision to resolve the way they were being treated was blocked – perhaps by a member of their family saying that it was not in their personality to be assertive or angry.

This reminded me very much of Agatha; she tries to express her outrage at the great wrong done to her, but she is judged as unworthy and undeserving, so the wrong is seen as justified and her punishment for being the ‘low-life’ who would have a child and have to live in a workhouse. It is circular – she is treated badly because she deserves to be treated badly and so this means that her hatred and insanity brings the great wrong up herself.

Laing is largely forgotten today, but his ideas resonate with certain ideas in feminism and anti-racism. ‘Gaslighting’ is everywhere, both back then and now.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9NnBonXPLJM

[ao3feed-superbat]

Sensible madness

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/34NkxPp

by Anna12aot

What if Kate and Bruce were born around the same time? What if the tragedies that made them the heroes they become, also happened around the same time? What if the two of them ended up living together? What if the two of them ended up as huge theater nerds? What if they had some actual healthy coping mechanisms along side their totally not super unhealthy vigilante detective hobby that nearly kills them on a weekly basis? What if everything wasn't a shitty cheap ass drama show written by racist, misogynist, homophobic, all the bad ism's and phobia's and ist's?

(No disrespect to the individuals who try to give us good diverse content. Actually, all the respect because DC as whole is a weak dumb ass bitch and kudos to those people for tolerating that bastard.)

Here is my sad, pathetic attempt to fix the DC universe that I am very much under qualified and under prepared for. Enjoy. (And I'll get to finishing the relationship tags soon, it's just not on the agenda right about now. There is just so many fucking characters. The character tags are technically unfinished because that won't be all of the characters showing up. Do I really hate myself and DC that much?)

Words: 633, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Wonder Woman - All Media Types, Wonder Woman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood, Red Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League: War, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017), Teen Titans (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Kate Kane, Alfred Pennyworth, Lucius Fox, Jim Gordon, Helena Bertinelli, Harold Allnut, Hiro Okamura, Vic Sage, Renee Montoya, Patrick "Eel" O'Brian, Zatanna Zatara, Basil Karlo, Talia al Ghul, Selina Kyle, Holly Robinson, Kitrina Falcone, Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, Rose Wilson, Grant Wilson (DCU), Joseph Wilson, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Gus Yale, Wendy Harris, Jacob Kane, Catherine Hamilton Kane, Diana (Wonder Woman), Jason Todd, Koriand'r (DCU), Roy Harper, Bette Kane, Duke Thomas, Tim Drake, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Stephanie Brown, Billy Batson, Harper Row, Cullen Row, Shawn Tsang, Natalia Knight, Sasha Bordeaux, Carrie Kelley, Jaina Hudson, Cassandra Cain, Cheyenne Freemont, Tiffany Fox, Luke Fox, Barry Allen, Wally West, Bart Allen, Jay Garrick, Iris West, Max Mercury, Clark Kent, Kara Zor-El, Kara Danvers, Lois Lane, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Jonathan "Pa" Kent, Martha Wayne, Martha Kent, Thomas Wayne, Sam Lane, Lucy Lane (DCU), Donna Troy, Cassie Sandsmark, Artemis of Bana-Mighdall, Akila of Bana-Mighdall, Queen Hippolyta, Atalanta, Antiope (Wonder Woman), Bana-Mighdall Amazons, The Amazons (Wonder Woman), Grace Choi, Anissa Pierce, Jefferson Pierce, Jennifer Pierce, Oliver Queen, Thea Queen, Emiko Queen, Dinah Lance, Hal Jordan, Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz, Simon Baz, Jon Stewart, Kyle Rayner, Jade Nguyen, Jennifer-Lynn Hayden, Artemis Crock, Ra's al Ghul, Nyssa Raatko, Silver St. Cloud, Wildcat (DCU), Tatsu Yamashiro, Jason Blood, Jason Bard, Crispus Allen, Kate Spencer, Onyx Adams, Boston Brand, David Zavimbe, Calvin Rose, Jean-Paul Valley, Santiago Varga, Baber Shah, Percy Sheldrake, Cyril Sheldrake, Jiro Osamu, Lonnie Machin, Harriet Cooper, Agatha Wayne, Vicki Vale, Harley Quinn, Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Harvey Dent, Joker (DCU), Jonathan Crane, Waylon Jones, Bane (DCU), Roman Sionis, Floyd Lawton, Hugo Strange, Thomas Elliot, Drury Walker, Jervis Tetch, Victor Fries, Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma, Cyrus Gold, Solomon Grundy (DCU), Shauna Belzer, Peyton Riley, Ulysses Hadrian Armstrong, Vandal Savage, Noah Kuttler, Julian Gregory Day (DCU), Thomas Blake (DCU), Arthur Brown, Count Vertigo, Garfield Lynns, Warren White, Charles "Chuck" Brown, Zeus (Wonder Woman), Onomatopoeia (DCU), Peter Merkel, Peter Merkel Jr., Deever Tweed, Dumfree Tweed, Victor Zsasz, Ben Turner, David Cain, Titus (DCU), Lady Shiva, Lazlo Valentin, Barton Mathis, Matilda Mathis, Mark Desmond, Mortimer Drake, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Ace the Bat-Hound, Bat-Cow (DCU)

Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Clark Kent, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Kate Kane & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Jim Gordon & Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Kate Kane, Kate Kane/Renee Montoya (past), Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne (past), Kate Kane & Jason Todd, Helena Bertinelli & Kate Kane & Jason Todd, Kate Kane & Clark Kent, Kate Kane & Alfred Pennyworth, Kate Kane & Oliver Queen, Kate Kane & Damian Wayne, Kate Kane & John Stewart, Bruce Wayne & Kara Zor-El, Barbara Gordon & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Zatanna Zatara, Hal Jordan & Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox & Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox & Luke Fox & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Kate Kane, Cassandra Cain & Kate Kane, Luke Fox & Kate Kane

Additional Tags: No Smut, No Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Canon Compliant, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, will try to remember to add them later, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, I am trying to fix the entire DCU while very much trying not to, This was supposed to be like just about the Batfam, But I started doing research, and it was really confusing, Then I got angry, and then hyped, and this happened, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Author Regrets Everything, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, How Do I Tag, Batfamily (DCU), Protective Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), fuck you dc, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Please Kill Me, I Tried, I Don't Even Know, some people die, no one stays dead, but god, God is Dead, Cause I killed him for letting DC continue this shit show, Nothing makes any fucking sense, This doesn't make any sense, It's a fucking mari go round of bullshit, enjoy, Explicit Language, To Be Edited, Not Beta Read, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Young Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Growing Up Together, Romani Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Kate Kane is a Good Parent, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon Knows, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Is Gay, And they're all panicked gays, Fluff and Angst, Family Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Humor, Gallows Humor, Bruce Wayne's Sense of Humor, Jason Todd’s Morbid Humor, this is gonna get long, Like over a few hundred thousand, Or this will die after it's reached 3k, Don't Like Don't Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Childhood Trauma, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Because of arkham, Arkham Asylum, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships, read the tags, Tags May Change, Tags Are Hard, Body Image, Jewish Character, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Rewrite, Hispanic Character, Black Character(s), Native American Character(s), Arab Character, Arab Damian Wayne, We Die Like Men, Everyone is a minority in some way, This will have all the representation, Racism, Racist Language, They will suffer because of their racism, Don't worry, Don't Have to Know Canon, Hopefully you won't have to know canon, Because if I don't do this right, Than you will be so confused, Better Than Canon, I take most of my inspiration from the justice league cartoons, and from the harley quinn movie soundtrack, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Trans Character, Gay Panic

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/34NkxPp

[ao3feed-batlantern]

by Anna12aot

What if Kate and Bruce were born around the same time? What if the tragedies that made them the heroes they become, also happened around the same time? What if the two of them ended up living together? What if the two of them ended up as huge theater nerds? What if they had some actual healthy coping mechanisms along side their totally not super unhealthy vigilante detective hobby that nearly kills them on a weekly basis? What if everything wasn't a shitty cheap ass drama show written by racist, misogynist, homophobic, all the bad ism's and phobia's and ist's?

(No disrespect to the individuals who try to give us good diverse content. Actually, all the respect because DC as whole is a weak dumb ass bitch and kudos to those people for tolerating that bastard.)

Here is my sad, pathetic attempt to fix the DC universe that I am very much under qualified and under prepared for. Enjoy. (And I'll get to finishing the relationship tags soon, it's just not on the agenda right about now. There is just so many fucking characters. The character tags are technically unfinished because that won't be all of the characters showing up. Do I really hate myself and DC that much?)

Words: 633, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Wonder Woman - All Media Types, Wonder Woman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Under the Red Hood, Red Robin (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League: War, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017), Teen Titans (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Other

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Kate Kane, Alfred Pennyworth, Lucius Fox, Jim Gordon, Helena Bertinelli, Harold Allnut, Hiro Okamura, Vic Sage, Renee Montoya, Patrick "Eel" O'Brian, Zatanna Zatara, Basil Karlo, Talia al Ghul, Selina Kyle, Holly Robinson, Kitrina Falcone, Dick Grayson, Slade Wilson, Rose Wilson, Grant Wilson (DCU), Joseph Wilson, Damian Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Gus Yale, Wendy Harris, Jacob Kane, Catherine Hamilton Kane, Diana (Wonder Woman), Jason Todd, Koriand'r (DCU), Roy Harper, Bette Kane, Duke Thomas, Tim Drake, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Stephanie Brown, Billy Batson, Harper Row, Cullen Row, Shawn Tsang, Natalia Knight, Sasha Bordeaux, Carrie Kelley, Jaina Hudson, Cassandra Cain, Cheyenne Freemont, Tiffany Fox, Luke Fox, Barry Allen, Wally West, Bart Allen, Jay Garrick, Iris West, Max Mercury, Clark Kent, Kara Zor-El, Kara Danvers, Lois Lane, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Jonathan "Pa" Kent, Martha Wayne, Martha Kent, Thomas Wayne, Sam Lane, Lucy Lane (DCU), Donna Troy, Cassie Sandsmark, Artemis of Bana-Mighdall, Akila of Bana-Mighdall, Queen Hippolyta, Atalanta, Antiope (Wonder Woman), Bana-Mighdall Amazons, The Amazons (Wonder Woman), Grace Choi, Anissa Pierce, Jefferson Pierce, Jennifer Pierce, Oliver Queen, Thea Queen, Emiko Queen, Dinah Lance, Hal Jordan, Guy Gardner, Jessica Cruz, Simon Baz, Jon Stewart, Kyle Rayner, Jade Nguyen, Jennifer-Lynn Hayden, Artemis Crock, Ra's al Ghul, Nyssa Raatko, Silver St. Cloud, Wildcat (DCU), Tatsu Yamashiro, Jason Blood, Jason Bard, Crispus Allen, Kate Spencer, Onyx Adams, Boston Brand, David Zavimbe, Calvin Rose, Jean-Paul Valley, Santiago Varga, Baber Shah, Percy Sheldrake, Cyril Sheldrake, Jiro Osamu, Lonnie Machin, Harriet Cooper, Agatha Wayne, Vicki Vale, Harley Quinn, Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Harvey Dent, Joker (DCU), Jonathan Crane, Waylon Jones, Bane (DCU), Roman Sionis, Floyd Lawton, Hugo Strange, Thomas Elliot, Drury Walker, Jervis Tetch, Victor Fries, Oswald Cobblepot, Edward Nygma, Cyrus Gold, Solomon Grundy (DCU), Shauna Belzer, Peyton Riley, Ulysses Hadrian Armstrong, Vandal Savage, Noah Kuttler, Julian Gregory Day (DCU), Thomas Blake (DCU), Arthur Brown, Count Vertigo, Garfield Lynns, Warren White, Charles "Chuck" Brown, Zeus (Wonder Woman), Onomatopoeia (DCU), Peter Merkel, Peter Merkel Jr., Deever Tweed, Dumfree Tweed, Victor Zsasz, Ben Turner, David Cain, Titus (DCU), Lady Shiva, Lazlo Valentin, Barton Mathis, Matilda Mathis, Mark Desmond, Mortimer Drake, Alfred the Cat (DCU), Ace the Bat-Hound, Bat-Cow (DCU)

Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Hal Jordan/Clark Kent, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Kate Kane & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Jim Gordon & Bruce Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman)/Kate Kane, Kate Kane/Renee Montoya (past), Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne (past), Kate Kane & Jason Todd, Helena Bertinelli & Kate Kane & Jason Todd, Kate Kane & Clark Kent, Kate Kane & Alfred Pennyworth, Kate Kane & Oliver Queen, Kate Kane & Damian Wayne, Kate Kane & John Stewart, Bruce Wayne & Kara Zor-El, Barbara Gordon & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne & Zatanna Zatara, Hal Jordan & Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox & Bruce Wayne, Lucius Fox & Luke Fox & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Kate Kane, Cassandra Cain & Kate Kane, Luke Fox & Kate Kane

Additional Tags: No Smut, No Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Not Canon Compliant, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, will try to remember to add them later, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, I am trying to fix the entire DCU while very much trying not to, This was supposed to be like just about the Batfam, But I started doing research, and it was really confusing, Then I got angry, and then hyped, and this happened, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Author Regrets Everything, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, How Do I Tag, Batfamily (DCU), Protective Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Domestic Batfamily (DCU), fuck you dc, It's Not Paranoia If They're Really Out To Get You, Please Kill Me, I Tried, I Don't Even Know, some people die, no one stays dead, but god, God is Dead, Cause I killed him for letting DC continue this shit show, Nothing makes any fucking sense, This doesn't make any sense, It's a fucking mari go round of bullshit, enjoy, Explicit Language, To Be Edited, Not Beta Read, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Young Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Growing Up Together, Romani Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Kate Kane is a Good Parent, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Good Parent Alfred Pennyworth, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Jim Gordon Knows, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Is Gay, And they're all panicked gays, Fluff and Angst, Family Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Feels, Humor, Gallows Humor, Bruce Wayne's Sense of Humor, Jason Todd’s Morbid Humor, this is gonna get long, Like over a few hundred thousand, Or this will die after it's reached 3k, Don't Like Don't Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Childhood Trauma, Mental Health Issues, Mental Institutions, Because of arkham, Arkham Asylum, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships, read the tags, Tags May Change, Tags Are Hard, Body Image, Jewish Character, Canon Disabled Character, Canon Rewrite, Hispanic Character, Black Character(s), Native American Character(s), Arab Character, Arab Damian Wayne, We Die Like Men, Everyone is a minority in some way, This will have all the representation, Racism, Racist Language, They will suffer because of their racism, Don't worry, Don't Have to Know Canon, Hopefully you won't have to know canon, Because if I don't do this right, Than you will be so confused, Better Than Canon, I take most of my inspiration from the justice league cartoons, and from the harley quinn movie soundtrack, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Trans Character, Gay Panic

[teecupangel]

*Shows up from the shadows all in the dust* Desmond getting Marie Antoinette syndrome through his "adventures" against Templars.... Yeah not a big idea, just wanted to have the stress really show on that boy, because i would have a mental breakdown in his place... also want to have Shawn make a grandpa joke :D *Gives mug as a gift and walks out through the window like Dracula*

“How does it feel to be a grandpa?”

Desmond stared at the water bottle in his hand as he sat on the Animus. Rebecca was quietly tinkering away on her station, having stopped Desmond’s session because she was getting glitches on her end that made no sense.

Desmond would ask what kind of glitches but all three of them would just be asking back why he was asking.

They’ve been treating him like he was fragile and about to shatter before their eyes after he woke up from his coma.

He supposed his white hair was a constant reminder of that… ‘experience’.

Even Shaun’s snarky question held no bite. It sounded more like he was just going through the motion of what was expected of him.

Desmond supposed he should lighten the mood.

“Like I aged 90 years rapidly.” Desmond dryly replied while twisting the cap open.

He could feel their worried stares and Desmond glanced around.

They all looked away the moment their eyes met, even his own father who would have been giving them a hard time looked ready to murder his screen instead.

Shaun even winced when Rebecca gave him a short glare before returning to the imminent task at hand.

Desmond thought they would appreciate it. He even gave a rough estimate of the sum of the age difference of him and the memories of Ezio and Altaïr he had seen when he was in a coma.

Oh well.

Desmond supposed his sense of humor had been shot and trampled on after synchronizing with those memories.

Sometimes, he could feel it.

The tiredness in his bones.

The weariness of the life he led.

Sometimes, Desmond wondered who he would end up like.

Altaïr who found happiness only to be confronted by more and more tragedy as he got older. Who never stopped grieving and only continued forward because he knew they would want him to live?

Or Ezio who finally left everything behind and tried to carve out a little bit of happiness later in life after walking a path of tragedy and pain? Desmond didn’t even know if he had been successful. Did he die happy? Or will he end up like Altaïr? Tired and alone as he took his last breath?

And then there was Ratonhnhaké:ton and Haytham Kenway.

Desmond already knew how Haytham Kenway’s life would end.

If there was anything Desmond realized about his and his ancestors’ lives, they were all meant to suffer.

Haytham Kenway would die.

It was just a matter of who kills him and how.

Either Ratonhnhaké:ton would be forced to kill him or Haytham Kenway would be killed because of Ratonhnhaké:ton, either through protecting him or through finally agreeing to have some kind of truce with the Assassins. Either way, he will die in Ratonhnhaké:ton’s arms.

That was a tragedy that the Calculations would create.

Because their suffering and pain were meant to be watched by an audience.

By both the Assassins and the Templars.

Ah.

He was getting sidetracked.

That was becoming easier to do nowadays.

Seeing his life and the lives of his ancestors in a more detached way.

Like it wasn’t even his life nor the lives of the men he came to care for.

Desmond wondered if the lost of his hair’s color wasn’t the only thing that he lost back on that island.

Desmond closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh.

He supposed it didn’t matter right now.

Time was against them.

They needed to find the key to save the world.

Maybe this was for the better.

Being detached to his own life…

If his life was meant to be a tragedy as well then it only meant something was going to happen before or during the time he was meant to save the world.

He opened his eyes and looked around.

The death of a loved one would be tragic.

But Desmond couldn’t even count anyone to be someone he ‘loved’.

Rebecca and Shaun were more like colleagues than friends. Perhaps if they spent more time together, he would feel something deeper than the ‘care of an ally’ for them.

His parents?

He was sure that William Miles’ avoidance to talk about his wife was a clear indication that she was dead. Perhaps she died during the attack on the Farm.

Desmond’s heart did ache at that thought but it had been so long he had actually forgotten how she looked. He remembered being told as a child that he looked like his mother but… he could no longer remember her face. He remembered her voice only because he heard it again on the island.

And William Miles?

It would be tragic, perhaps it would even mirror Haytham Kenway’s ‘future’ death in the arms of his son. But it would not be enough…

No.

If his life was meant to be a tragedy.

Then dying to save the world would be the better twist.

He looked back at the water bottle.

He had forgotten that he was planning to drink it.

He wondered…

If the tragedy of his ancestors were watched by them as the audience...

Who would be the audience of his tragedy?

Desmond closed the cap.

Would his death even mean anything in the end?

He supposed he would never be able to answer that.

The answer would be for those who watched it.

(Maria Antoinette syndrome is usually summarized as a person’s hair turning white overnight due to trauma. And, yes, nonny, you wanted a physical manifestation of his stress and trauma and I give you an internal monologue of Desmond detaching himself to not fall into despair. Although, considering how his thoughts went… it’s not good)

[rdwyns]

          hey y’all, it’s kit again ! swapping jeyne out for anya, my muse from the last iteration of warofcrowns but with some obvious edits ! if you remember her from the old version, fair warning, she’s gotten significantly worse. her intro is still absurdly, ridiculously long, i am well aware and will not apologize. but if you do manage to read the whole thing you have my eternal gratitude & admiration ! i’d also really, really love plenty of plots and connections for her so if you want to plot, here’s how: like this post if you don’t mind me messaging you, or get a head start and shoot me a message either on IMs or on discord !

⤷ ( kit. cet. 22. she / her. violence against children. ) the courts offer bread and salt to anya caron née redwyne of house caron. many say the twenty-five year old ruling lady of nightsong is known to be poised and insightful, though ill tongues whisper that she is insecure and volatile. when her name is uttered, one is reminded of a faint light in a sea of fog, sweet fruit souring into wine, & a dark stain spreading over silk. may she be blessed and protected in this war of crowns.

        tw - discussions or mentions of alcoholism, childbirth & pregnancy, domestic abuse & neglect, suicide by drowning, food & disordered eating, forced marriage, mental & physical illness, misogyny. ( yeah it’s a lot, don’t mind me. )

basics.

name. anya caron née redwyne. nicknames. age. twenty-five. traits.      + educated, reverent, insightful, poised, curious, resourceful, sentimental.      - guarded, resentful, volatile, insecure, transgressive, dependent. titles. ruling lady of nightsong. loyalty. house targaryen.

family.

desmond redwyne, ruling lord of the arbor. ( father ) viola redwyne née ???, ruling lady of the arbor. ( mother , deceased ) ??? redwyne, heir to the arbor. ( half-brother ) ??? ??? née redwyne, lady of the arbor. ( half-sister )

??? caron, ruling lord of nightsong. ( husband ) amerei caron, lady of nightsong ( sister-in-law )

pre - history ; house & parents .

the redwynes were always military men. had to be, really, being island people, more isolated and often more endangered than their mainland counterparts. really, there was nothing quite so loved as war, except perhaps wine.

an old, proud house, the redwynes and their fleet have fought for targaryen kings for centuries — they stood by aegon in the dance of the dragons, stood by jon & daenerys against cersei lannister, and even stood by maegos against the dornish and northern rebellions.

lord desmond redwyne took his father’s seat in the reign of king aeron. in a prosperous and peaceful time, men drunk on dreams of a glorious war grow restless — so he hunted, and whored, and drank, and none of it so much as touched his reputation. no, lord redwyne was an honorable man, a true servant of the realm, an example to many.

lady viola redwyne might have said otherwise, had anyone asked her. prone to bouts of melancholy, often disagreeable, and with a reputation for refusing suitors, she might have even succeeded had she not been so beautiful. lord redwyne must have her, and her father could not refuse.

his second wife, fifteen years his junior, and unhappy with the match, she could not love him, nor his other children, nor the arbor. a lack of love in such close quarters sours into hate over time, like bad wine. one of her few reliefs was that he already had an heir and a spare. poor health and misery would not have made her a brood-mare of any longevity.

family history & early childhood . 

as it stood, anya was more an unexpected result than a desired outcome, and ultimately even a bone of contention. she bound her mother by love, to the arbor and the man that she hated.

they were left well enough alone, for a time, viola and her daughter, the septa, and the maidservants. even the wet nurse sent away. anya’s infancy brought a modicum of respite, but it would not last more than a handful of years.

by that time it aroused suspicion. lady redwyne would hardly leave her chambers, refuse to let the child out of her sight, would not see her husband and even refused food for periods at a time. it was unhealthy, unnatural, they soon started saying. in inns and winesinks at ryamsport men would murmur ‘poor lord redwyne, imagine a wife that beautiful going mad on you,’ into their cups, laughing at their great fortune to have avoided his.

and perhaps there was something real to it, perhaps there really was something unsettling about the arrangement. perhaps not. but in the end it was only the talk that mattered. once it reached lord redwyne’s ears, red with shame at being laughed at by traders and fishermen, he put his foot down. viola’s whims were not to be indulged or tolerated any longer, and besides, ‘the child’—by this he meant anya—‘must grow to be a fool or a half-wit if left in her care.’

and so anya was removed to the care of a cousin, mostly sheltered from her mother’s influence. there were fights about it for months. the withdrawn lady redwyne who would not speak but to her daughter and her maidservant and looked to the window whenever anyone looked at her had disappeared. she raged, schemed to steal her daughter away, wept, wandered the halls at night, and made trouble.

lord redwyne even tried being gentle, for a time, speaking in soft pleading words for her to be reasonable, but gentle or harsh it made no difference. if she saw anya twice, even three times a day, it was not enough — to her mind, he had stolen her daughter, stolen her life, stolen her freedom and anything else he might think of taking, and she wasn’t wrong. but when she threatened to throw herself from the eastern tower, she sealed her own fate.

on horseshoe rock, one of the smaller islands in the waters surrounding the arbor, a small stout keep was furnished and staffed, and lady redwyne was sent out of sight, out of mind, and certainly out of the way, where she couldn’t cause another such a stir — and most importantly, after a while, the talk died down.

personal history .

with all the difficulties tended to, and all the loose ends and loose canons carefully tied down, anya’s upbringing was left to a succession of septas, servants, and after a time, an aunt, newly widowed  and returned to the arbor.

out of her father’s favor for as long as she could remember, with a rocky relationship with her siblings ( i won’t go into detail in case my wc is picked up ! ), anya found little relief within the castle walls. she attended her lessons dutifully, could sew and sing and smile, recite the houses, their sigils and heroes, and it all meant little and less to her.

she wanted to set sail, she had always insisted — since before she knew what it really meant, just uttering phrases picked up along the way the way one does around seafarers — but desmond redwyne would not suffer any of his daughters to venture so far beyond his control. he knew better than to trust sailors, and certainly never trusted women.

so instead anya spent years at her window, watching sails shrink and disappear over the horizon ; by the sea, swimming in a cove under the watchful eye of the septa ; sneaking in the fields during harvest, stealing grapes ripe to bursting. searching desperately, maybe shiftlessly, for a little bit of sweetness. all the while she visited her mother only rarely, on namedays and holy days and days when, for whatever mysterious reason, her father’s pity won out over his good sense.

she studied too, though silently, mostly unnoticed. the kitchen girls, the household guard, the way people talked when they didn’t think anyone was paying attention. watched her father most of all, and had no illusions about him. even if she still aspired to please him, somehow, to gain his approval, she knew: he was a cruel man, harsh, childish, selfish, drunk on wine and himself, and yet still too clever to let all of that be his ruin.

her betrothal, like any lady’s, was inevitable — on the horizon of her future, marriage appeared to her like a fog, uncertain in all aspects but its impending approach. in the end it was a transaction, as these things almost always are. a dowry of ships, wine, and gold ( but really, mostly ships ) was enough to make anya a desirable bride despite the whispers of madness that clung to her mother, and she was promised to the heir of nightsong without even the illusion of being well-matched.

demure, docile, even shy, few suspected that, days before she was to leave for her wedding, anya would disappear in the night. would sneak from the castle in the dark, with a torch and one gold dragon, paid to the wife of a fisherman who, in her husband’s small boat, rowed anya to the shores of horseshoe rock to say goodbye to her mother one last time.

it was a mistake, but she couldn’t have known that. she came at night, the only time she could, but to viola, startled from her sleep, she was a ghost in the moonlight. after the truth came, ‘i’m leaving. father says i must,’ her mother, in tears, threw herself in front of the door, on the ground, wept in fits and refused to let her leave. it was the first and last time anya ever truly believed her mad. with promises that she would refuse her marriage and sail home as soon as she could, she left.

she was guilty, of course — so guilty it ate her up, and very nearly killed her, but not so guilty that she turned back. her mother could not bear for her to go, but anya felt she would die — truly die — if she were forced to stay.

the preparations were already well underway by the time word reached them from the arbor. lady redwyne had disappeared. alseep in bed at night, swore the servant, but gone in the morning. the island was searched for weeks, coasts scoured, sailors and captains interrogated, but to no avail. some say she escaped, others that she was kidnapped, and yet others know with conviction that she simply walked into the sea and drowned

though she wore the her house colors instead of black, anya was married in mourning. the wedding was a ridiculous affair, lavish and splendid and festive, and it only made her all the more self-conscious. she was polite, sweet, but in the momentary lull of conversation she looked lost. doe-eyed — not innocent, but wary, reproachful.

( note --- everything that follows may be changed at a later date if / when her husband is applied for ; i’m trying to keep it as vague as possible for that reason, sorry. )

it was a relief to be gone from the arbor, that she could not deny, but things at nightsong were not better. she was withdrawn, in mourning, clumsy in her attempts to draw affection from her husband and all the while mistrusting him ; even at the arbor she knew the household, was familiar with the scullery maids and the maester. here she was a stranger in her own home, and resentment blossomed as easily and intractably as wildflowers.

in the end she found she had traded a familiar prison for one completely alien to her. in the end it was probably worse. she did not sour quickly, no --- it took time, but sour she did. 

tl ; dr , personality .

a traumatic, tense, and lonely childhood, ghost-like and disconnected. mommy and daddy issues, because why not. that and a poor marriage leaves her bitter, withdrawn ; there is a deep, foul darkness in her that she does not have the strength to keep at bay.

haunted by rumors of madness passed down from her mother, hard to disprove when she seems to be turning into her more and more every day. more recently questions of her fidelity have been raised ; she ignores them publicly but remains wary. honestly she’s not ‘mad’ it’s just what they call women with big emotions and opinions, y’know.

despite all that she still seeks sweetness, tenderness --- she is seriously traumatized and seriously sentimental, but not necessarily a good person. she might try to be or think she is, but in the end she’s also very shady and good at lying to herself, or aspiring to goodness. wants intensity above all else, whether good or bad. 

basically what happens when you put a sweet, sensitive girl into the rough, careless hands of men ; even when they do not mean to misuse her some damage is inevitably done. that’s not to say she’s only a victim ; she can be as cruel as she is tender, and hurting only makes her want to hurt more.

very insecure, which manifests itself in a lot of different ways ; does she try to make herself big and powerful ? does she try to turn herself into whatever it is she thinks someone wants ? does she overthink things and say too little end up seeming like an absolute whacko ? does she get overexcited and yes.

poised and image-aware but resents it. she should have been the daughter of a miller or a fisherman or even a knight, but not of a lord ; harbors secret dreams of simple domesticity but she’s been told at every turn that makes her weak or small-minded so she dreams of nothing instead.

plot ideas !

cousins. i haven’t yet decided what house anya’s mother is from, so there are plenty of options for familial attachments there, though probably a house from the reach / southern kingdom ! her father also probably had sisters, although they’d probably be another generation older and have adult grandchildren at this point, so. second cousins ? i think ? 

failed or cancelled betrothal. this is also super open ! again, would probably be someone from the southern kingdom, all things considered. what their relationship would be or whether they had even ever met is all very much up in the air. 

former flings. again i like to keep my plot ideas open to customization and further plotting ! but i also think that she may, probably, arguably, definitely have sought comfort elsewhere after realizing her marriage was not going the places she was hoping. idk man she just wants to be touched. how intense it was or how long it went on or what it meant are all very very open to discussion, i love a little drama but i definitely don’t need this to turn into a ship or anything ! and again this would be open to any gender because all my muses are bi !

enemies. i cannot stress this enough, i love enemy connections. maybe anya’s jealous and petty which she is perfectly capable of being ; she loves herself a backhanded compliment and has a bad habit of lashing out when she’s feeling upset or otherwise justified in her shittiness. could also be enemies due to bad blood between their families, since her dad is fairly shitty also. 

family ward. could go two ways ; either someone who spent some time in their childhood at the arbor or somewhere anya might have been sent for some time in her childhood ? she was fairly isolated at the arbor for most of her childhood but i would love for her to still have some childhood connections or something.

#badreputation friends. anya adores her sister-in-law amerei more than she can express ; both of them have a dark cloud of a bad reputation hanging over their heads. anya’s a madwoman and a whore, and amerei’s killed all three of her husbands, if the rumors are to be believed. which means that anya absolutely adores any lady with a bad reputation, especially if that reputation is only bad because of misogyny. they also don’t necessarily need to be friends, but anya definitely finds them more interesting than most others.

little sibling-ey relationship. yea i’m braindead and not thinking of cool names for these things anymore. anyway, gimme a muse who’s still all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and brings out the very best in anya ; she’s always been the youngest sibling but with an intense need to protecc ( catch her rehabilitating birds with broken wings and defending the baker’s boy from bullies ). also has loads of mostly half-bad advice to pass on ! 

literally anything else ! please ! i just love intense, extensive, or lore-heavy plots but also anything casual and fun i am not picky ! i just ! want plots and connections and muse to write !

[critical-ramblings]

Realer than You

(Also on AO3!)

Yasha thought she was going crazy.

Crazier, anyway.

She could remember things again, after she’d run into that biker in Stockholm. Time made sense, mostly. But space was starting to fragment, the further west she came.

When she was tired, she would smell salt water and grease, reach out a hand for a railing that wasn’t there. Look out and see only the ocean where there should have been fields.

When she was hungry, she would be on foot in a German street. The noise and press of people buffeted but did not touch her. Someone else, with dirty ginger hair and a thick beard, peered back at her, then was gone.

When she was lonely, there was a train. Or many trains in succession. She would be sitting in a luxurious seat, watching houses and trees blur past.

There were times when the emotions weren’t hers, either. Anger would flare deep in her chest, a hot rage that Yasha never let herself feel, and with it came a humid summer night. Cursing in Mandarin--a big eighteen wheeler pulling away from her and a lean young woman with her middle finger in the air. She looked at Yasha with her teeth still bared, but the connection broke under the weight of Yasha’s fear. She sat under a cloudy sky in Latvia with her hand pressed to her chest. She stayed that way for a long time.

And then there was the circus. It was after she’d stopped for the night, pulled off the road and hidden her bike. Yasha didn’t have the paper she’d need to cross these borders legitimately, and even if she’d wanted them she didn’t have the money.

Still, her long wander through the Siberian wilderness had left her with the skills to make her way back through civilization unnoticed. With the increasing frequency of her visions, Yasha was just as glad to go days without seeing another human being.

She was sitting on the side of the road to watch the moon come up, and all of a sudden there were lights. Neon reds and blues and purples danced through the forest for a moment, before resolving into carnival booths and tents and a ferris wheel that sparked and glowed in the fading sunlight.

“Hey now,” someone said next to her. “Can’t have you sitting in the middle of the road, can we?” A thin brown hand reached out to her, covered by the tattoo of a green snake with a brilliant red eye looking up at her. The first thing she noticed was his coat, a knee-length masterpiece full of stars and moons and stranger things, the embroidery glinting in the light of the circus.

And then she saw his swords, jeweled scimitars hanging from his belt as casually as someone else might carry a purse or a backpack. Yasha took his hand without thinking, let him help her up, and never took her eyes off those swords. Oh, her gang had never had anything so pretty, but they had loved grinding down old pipes and rebar and scrap into things like swords. Things meant to cut and kill.

“Buy me dinner first, at least,” he said, and Yasha snapped her eyes back to his face. There was something about the wrinkles at the edges of his eyes that made his smile softer, unthreatening. He held himself like a conman, a huckster, but his smile gave him away. “What’s your name?” he asked, only to pull her out of the way as a horse-drawn buggy clattered down the path.

“Watch it, Molly!” Two girls shouted at him in unison. Molly flipped them both the bird and then turned his attention back to her. The head of a peacock just peeked out from the open collar of his shirt, it’s dark purple and green feathers curling up the side of his neck and cheek.

“I’m...Yasha,” she said, and somehow smiled back at him.

“Well, I’m Mollymauk, Molly to my friends. Which we most certainly are!” He put his hands on her shoulders, looking her up and down. After a second in which Yasha fought and failed to contain her blush, he announced, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so in need of a good time. Come on,” he wrapped her arm in his, like they were walking into a ball. “Let’s get you some cotton candy.”

“I don’t--what?” Yasha laughed as he half-dragged her through the almost empty booths of games, a few carnival goers just starting to appear at the gates behind them. “You know I’m not really here, right?” For a moment she was back in the forest, walking too quickly among the dark trees with Molly still on her arm.

“Ah, gloomy place, that,” he said, tugging gently on her elbow. They turned left and were back in the carnival, passing one of the teacup looking rides. “Nevermind that.”

“But that is real,” Yasha said, a little desperately.

Molly only turned his crooked smile up another notch, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he said, “Is it?”

Yasha groaned, feeling her mind waver under the weight of this thought. She’d had enough of unreality already. Hadn’t she? If she couldn’t remember...?

“Don’t sprain something, now,” Molly said, with just the faintest hint of worry creeping in to further ruin his persona. “Listen, if you’re real, and I’m real, which I am. On most days, anyway--” Yasha shot him an exasperated look from behind her hands. “Okay, I’m real. Then what does it matter  how  we’re talking, or seeing each other? What matters is that you were sitting by yourself in the middle of fucking nowhere, and I happen to have the--purely metaphorical--keys to party central! I meant it when I said you needed a good time.”

Yasha took one deep breath, and then another. The air smelled like fried food and sugar, here, and a small group of stands were selling drinks and popcorn. Most of the tables were occupied, here. Carnival-goers looked up as Molly passed, then back at their food when no act began. While her friend acquired two bags of popcorn and a cone of literal spun sugar, Yasha closed her eyes and just...thought. It did matter, what was real and what wasn’t. But if she couldn’t deny that Mollymauk was real--and she couldn’t, not to his face--then both things had to be true. He was here, and she was there. And also they were together.

Well, it was fantastic, unbelievable. But it was real. So Yasha decided to believe it, and having decided so, she could stop hurting her brain so much trying to logic it out.

“Done?” Molly asked, holding out the cone like a strange fluffy bouquet. “Taste this and tell me I’m a figment of your imagination.”

“I still don’t know if that’ll really work,” Yasha said, but she smiled anyway and bit into the purple cloud. For a moment, she could feel the crackle of melting sugar on her tongue, could almost taste something sharply sweet--then it was gone. Molly stuck out his tongue to reveal a faint purple stain. He sighed and looked mournfully down at the popcorn she wasn’t going to be able to eat.

“I shall suffer, in the name of friendship,” he announced, and dragged her off back towards the rides.

If he was supposed to be working that night, Yasha never saw a sign of it. Molly only had to wink at whoever was manning the booths and breeze past them. “One of those nights!” he called over his shoulder, when a black woman with shoulder-length dreads and flames painted on her face tried to catch him. “I’ll be fine, Orna, no worries!” He rushed away before Orna could weigh in on the matter.

They sat at the top of the ferris wheel for half an hour, Molly pointing out the lights of the nearby town, “And that’s the pub, down there with the red star. Nearly got kicked out last night, not my fault of course,” and trying to get Yasha to eat the popcorn. She kept expecting it to vanish when she picked it up, but seemed to be that Molly was the one who got the actual body of the food, she could still taste and enjoy it. “There’s absolutely too many ways to abuse this power,” Molly said happily, licking grease and salt off of his fingers.

He took her through the back of the main tent, where a tall man in a red coat and top hat was telling stories to the small but dedicated audience. They saw Orna’s fire dance and Desmond’s flying violin before Gustav caught sight of them and used the shadows to sidle up before Molly could slink away.

“Aren’t you supposed to be out telling fortunes?” the tall man asked pointedly, poking Molly’s chest pocket.

“Oh, we’re fine without my little sideshow for one night.” Molly patted the deck of cards concealed inside his beautiful coat, glancing sideways at Yasha. “I just needed a break, Gustav.”

“Hmm. Well, mind you don’t make a habit of it, Mollymauk. I’d hate to see you lose your flair.” The lights came back up before either of them could think of an answer, and Gustav hurriedly stepped back into the ring.

On their way back towards the teacup ride, Yasha pulled to a stop next to the strength tester pole. A couple of people were already here, watching a man with broad shoulders and a long tangled beard step up to the plate. “How do you think this one works?” Yasha asked.

“Well, mostly by making the weight heavier than it looks, so no one hits the bell,” Molly replied.

“No, I meant. With the thing, with us, you know. Is it me or you swinging?”

“Oh.  Oooh, I see.” Molly glanced quickly between her shoulders and his own much smaller biceps. He grinned. “Let’s find out.”

They only had to wait a couple of minutes in line, and then the minder was handing Yasha the hammer with an amused look. “Trying your luck, Molly?” he said.

“Uh, yeah?” Yasha looked around a little frantically, but Molly just stood a few feet away and gave her a double thumbs up. So to other people, she looked like Molly. She was Mollymauk, even though he was also here.

But it was Yasha who stood with her feet shoulder width apart on the black rubber mat, Yasha who hefted the ill-balanced maul in both hands and eyed the little weight. If her body wasn’t really here, maybe it was just that her mind expected muscles to react differently. Or that she knew how to lift heavy things, to hit heavy things, more than Molly did. Whatever the cause, the reaction was just as unbelievable as the rest of her night: the weight shot up, past green, past yellow, past orange, and hit the bell at the top with a resounding RING.

It wasn’t just the game minder who was staring at her with his mouth open, but everyone else in line as well. And her smile wasn’t as crooked as Molly’s, but it was just as sharp. Yasha handed the hammer back with a little bow and a laugh as Molly rushed up and pulled her into a one-armed hug with a wild laugh of his own.

“Such a skinny little bloke,” someone said, as they walked away. “Wouldn’t’a thought he had it in him.”

Eventually they ended up sitting on the grass by the gates, watching people leave. Molly would guess how much they’d spent under his breath, and Yasha would try to guess what relationships there were going on. The most memorable was when an older man walked out alone, a huge stuffed pink bear clutched tightly under his arm.

“Spent at least fifty euro getting that thing,” Molly swore up and down.

“For a daughter, maybe?” Yasha tilted her head thoughtfully.

“Nah, for himself. Definitely for himself.”

They both laughed, and Molly bumped his shoulder against hers, and Yasha leaned against him back.

“Well?” he asked, turning to smile up at her from under his bangs. “I know it wasn’t a magnificent ocean cruise, but. Did you have a good night?”

Yasha looked back up at the lights, at the ferris wheel and the games. She saw, underneath them, the forest trees and black sky somewhere to the east. “It was a good night,” she said at last.

“Great! Excellent. And we’re both still real?”

She was too tired for a laugh, but she did chuckle a little as she got to her feet. She could feel the connection fraying between them, fatigue and the fading edges of her headache wearing him away. “We’re both real,” Yasha said. She reached out to touch his shoulder, then thought better of it. She had only just met him, after all. “Goodnight, Mollymauk.”

“Goodnight, Yasha.”

[wishtorn]

          heya i’m kit ! i’m going to start this off by apologizing for how obscenely long this intro has turned out to be. i really got caught up … but there’s a summary at the very end, and if you do read the entire thing you get a million brownie points ! message me here or on discord to collect. i’ve also included a handful of general plot ideas if anyone’s interested in them, but i’d also love to think up some more specific ideas. just like this or shoot me a message and i’ll come plot !

⤷ ( kit. cet. 21. she / her. none. ) the courts offer bread and salt to anya targaryen née redwyne of house targaryen. many say the twenty-four year old queen of the southern kingdom is known to be well-intentioned and nurturing, though ill tongues whisper that she is guarded and sentimental. when her name is uttered, one is reminded of sleepless nights, a faint light in the fog, & the smell of sea salt and spring.

         tw - discussions or mentions of alcoholism, childbirth & pregnancy, domestic abuse & neglect, drowning, food & disordered eating, mental & physical illness, misogyny. ( i didn’t realize it was going to be this much of a shitstorm until i sat down and started writing. idk what to say, guess i’m #dramatic ? )

pre - history ( house & parents. )

the redwynes were always military men. had to be, really, being island people, more isolated and often more endangered than their mainland counterparts. really, there was nothing quite so loved as war, except perhaps wine.

an old, proud house, the redwynes and their fleet have fought for targaryen kings for centuries — they stood by aegon in the dance of the dragons, stood by jon & daenerys against cersei lannister, and even stood by maegos against the dornish and northern rebellions.

lord desmond redwyne took his father’s seat in the reign of king aeron. in a prosperous and peaceful time, men drunk on dreams of a glorious war grow restless — so he hunted, and whored, and drank, and none of it so much as touched his reputation. no, lord redwyne was an honorable man, a true servant of the realm, an example to many.

lady viola redwyne might have said otherwise, had anyone asked her. prone to bouts of melancholy, often disagreeable, and with a reputation for refusing suitors, she might have even succeeded had she not been so beautiful. lord redwyne must have her, and her father could not refuse.

his second wife, fifteen years his junior, and unhappy with the match, she could not love him, nor his other children, nor the arbor. a lack of love in such close quarters sours into hate over time, like bad wine. one of her few reliefs was that he already had an heir and a spare. poor health and misery would not have made her a brood-mare of any longevity.

long before her parents ever laid eyes on each other, however, a scandal rocked the redwynes ; lord desmond was then merely the heir, a knight and a naval captain of some repute. his eldest sister was already wed to a lord on the mainland, but the younger was a wilder thing, with a taste for adventure that was indulged by their father. the lord greyjoy’s reputation preceded him, and when she first spotted him, on the deck of a ship off the coast of fair isle, he had already quite captivated her. they met in secret, at sea, where they were not lords or ladies but each king on their own ship. the last time her ship sailed from the arbor, it was under the cover of night, to steal away to pyke, and the shame and scandal of it tore through the redwynes like a hurricane. she was shunned, rarely spoken of, and when the news came from pyke that she had died, no one at the arbor shed a tear. 

family history ( early childhood. )

as it stood, anya was more an unexpected result than a desired outcome, and ultimately even a bone of contention. she bound her mother by love, to the arbor and the man that she hated.

they were left well enough alone, for a time, viola and her daughter, the septa, and the maidservants. even the wet nurse sent away. anya’s infancy brought a modicum of respite, but it would not last more than a handful of years.

by that time it aroused suspicion. lady redwyne would hardly leave her chambers, refuse to let the child out of her sight, would not see her husband and even refused food for periods at a time. it was unhealthy, unnatural, they soon started saying. in inns and winesinks at ryamsport men would murmur ‘poor lord redwyne, imagine a wife that beautiful going mad on you,’ into their cups, laughing at their great fortune to have avoided his.

and perhaps there was something real to it, perhaps there really was something unsettling about the arrangement. perhaps not. but in the end it was only the talk that mattered. once it reached lord redwyne’s ears, red with shame at being laughed at by traders and fishermen, he put his foot down. viola’s whims were not to be indulged or tolerated any longer, and besides, ‘the child’—by this he meant anya—‘must grow to be a fool or a half-wit if left in her care.’

and so anya was removed to the care of a cousin, mostly sheltered from her mother’s influence. there were fights about it for months. the withdrawn lady redwyne who would not speak but to her daughter and her maidservant and looked to the window whenever anyone looked at her had disappeared. she raged, schemed to steal her daughter away, wept, wandered the halls at night, and made trouble.

lord redwyne even tried being gentle, for a time, speaking in soft pleading words for her to be reasonable, but gentle or harsh it made no difference. if she saw anya twice, even three times a day, it was not enough — to her mind, he had stolen her daughter, stolen her life, stolen her freedom and anything else he might think of taking, and she wasn’t wrong. but when she threatened to throw herself from the eastern tower, she sealed her own fate.

on horseshoe rock, one of the smaller islands in the waters surrounding the arbor, a small stout keep was furnished and staffed, and lady redwyne was sent out of sight, out of mind, and certainly out of the way, where she couldn’t cause another such a stir — and most importantly, after a while, the talk died down.

personal history i ( childhood & youth. )

with all the difficulties tended to, and all the loose ends and loose canons carefully tied down, anya’s upbringing was left to a succession of septas, servants, and after a time, an aunt, newly widowed  and returned to the arbor.

out of her father’s favor for as long as she could remember, with a rocky relationship with her siblings ( i won’t go into detail in case my wc is picked up ! ), anya found little relief within the castle walls. she attended her lessons dutifully, could sew and sing and smile, recite the houses, their sigils and heroes, and it all meant little and less to her.

she wanted to set sail, she had always insisted — since before she knew what it really meant, just uttering phrases picked up along the way the way one does around seafarers — but desmond redwyne would not suffer any of his daughters to venture so far beyond his control. he knew better than to trust sailors, and certainly never trusted women.

so instead anya spent years at her window, watching sails shrink and disappear over the horizon ; by the sea, swimming in a cove under the watchful eye of the septa ; sneaking in the fields during harvest, stealing grapes ripe to bursting. searching desperately, maybe shiftlessly, for a little bit of sweetness. all the while she visited her mother only rarely, on namedays and holy days and days when, for whatever mysterious reason, her father’s pity won out over his good sense.

she studied too, though silently, mostly unnoticed. the kitchen girls, the household guard, the way people talked when they didn’t think anyone was paying attention. watched her father most of all, and had no illusions about him. even if she still aspired to please him, somehow, to gain his approval, she knew: he was a cruel man, harsh, childish, selfish, drunk on wine and himself, and yet still too clever to let all of that be his ruin.

her betrothal, like any lady’s, was inevitable — on the horizon of her future, marriage appeared to her like a fog, uncertain in all aspects but its impending approach. in the end it was a transaction, as these things almost always are. ships, wine, and gold ( but really, mostly ships ) were enough to make one of lord redwyne’s daughters a future queen.

demure, docile, even shy, few suspected that, days before she was to leave for king’s landing, anya would disappear in the night. would sneak from the castle in the dark, with a torch and one gold dragon, paid to the wife of a fisherman who, in her husband’s small boat, rowed anya to the shores of horseshoe rock to say goodbye to her mother one last time.

it was a mistake, but she couldn’t have known that. she came at night, the only time she could, but to viola, startled from her sleep, she was a ghost in the moonlight. after the truth came, ‘i’m leaving. father says i must,’ her mother, in tears, threw herself in front of the door, on the ground, wept in fits and refused to let her leave. it was the first and last time anya ever truly believed her mad. with promises that she would refuse the prince and sail home as soon as she could, she left.

she was guilty, of course — so guilty it ate her up, and very nearly killed her, but not so guilty that she turned back. her mother could not bear for her to go, but anya felt she would die — truly die — if she were forced to stay.

the preparations were already well underway by the time word reached them from the arbor. lady redwyne had disappeared. alseep in bed at night, swore the servant, but gone in the morning. the island was searched for weeks, coasts scoured, sailors and captains interrogated, but to no avail. some say she escaped, others that she was kidnapped, and yet others know with conviction that she simply walked into the sea and drowned.

personal history ii ( marriage & rule. )

though she wore the right house colors, anya was married in mourning. the wedding was a ridiculous affair, lavish and splendid and festive, and it only made her all the more self-conscious. she was polite, sweet, but in the momentary lull of conversation she looked lost. doe-eyed — not innocent, but wary, reproachful.

but the rockiness, the uncertainty, if at first seeming insurmountable, soon dissipated. prince daeryon was not her father, nor much like many other lords that had so worried her. no, he was kind, and gentle, and patient, and in need of some kindness himself.

as unlikely as it may be, they tended their happiness like a garden, and it wasn’t long before leaves were sprouting where her fear had been. for a while they lived well, on laughter and sunlight and the thrill of young love.

but of course it doesn’t last — nothing does. when king aeron dies, things change hard and fast. the freedom to walk through the city, ride in the kingswood, or sail to dragonstone for a fortnight on a day’s notice was gone, replaced by a hundred new duties, funeral arrangements to be made, small council meetings to attend.

at that point, the two of them also certainly start feeling the pressure for an heir. the difficulties and delays that had once been only a source of gossip became a source of concern, even as their duties kept them apart more often than ever, as the long nights and tense meetings started to fray his nerves.

they were soon blessed with a son, aeric, though the pregnancy and birth left anya exhausted, weary, and withdrawn just as her husband needed her most. the pressure of the crown which he had borne with such fickle strength was beginning to crush him.

no man, not even the best of them, could carry a kingdom on his own. it certainly wasn’t made easier by the constant jostling from one side or the other, a meddling mother, resentful elder sisters, or grasping, ambitious councillors. anya was forced to admit that however much she loved her husband, however good a man he was, he was not a good king. not good enough.

so she rose to the occasion, as gracefully as her fears and meagre experience let her, sitting in on small council meetings and more private discussions, by his side. she consulted carefully, leaning heavily on the hand of the king, working tirelessly to ensure her husband’s realm remained intact, his rule secure, and their family safe.

present.

her son is nearly four years old now, a happy, healthy child without the slightest clue of the dangers he is in, simply by virtue of his birth. anya worries about him constantly, and spends as much of her time as she can with him.

in king’s landing, she’s often attending meetings, writing letters, keeping busy — all to ease the pressure from her husband, who is only worrying her more and more as each day passes. he grows withdrawn, erratic, unpredictable, but she’s less afraid than sorrowful. he’s in pain, she can tell that much, but how to soothe it ?

very nervous about the trip north. she’s never been so far before, never left her son so long before, and certainly never seen her husband in such an unfamiliar — hostile ? — environment, and is deeply concerned with what issues might arise.

still, the coronation at winterfell is a solid opportunity to strengthen the ties that the previous generation had spent so long binding, to show each other and the realm that two kings intend to continue their fathers’ peace and collaboration.

tl ; dr.

      + well-intentioned, nurturing, insightful, gracious, curious, resourceful       - guarded, sentimental, unforgiving, hesitant, volatile, insecure, spoiled

a traumatic, tense, and lonely childhood, ghost-like and disconnected. mommy and daddy issues, because why not.

a betrothal for wealth and power ; naval strength and trade wealth married into royal bloodlines. 

a young son and a marriage that is loving, starts easy, but grows ever more strained under the weight of a crown.

trying desperately to keep her shit ( her kingdom, husband, family ) from falling apart at the seams.

way more responsibility, work, and stress than she signed up for, if we’re being honest, but she makes it work.

stress, anxiety, worry, chaos, fear, all those good things tbh.

and despite it all, at least a conditional kindness, and a sentimental softness that ought to be hidden better than it is.

plot ideas !

lady friends. yes i know how stupid that sounds, but honestly, a girl needs girls around her or she’s bound to lose it. i imagine she’d mostly know other ladies from the souther kingdom, but may have also met and befriended others from the north at the funeral of king aeron, or elsewhere.

almost- or cancelled betrothal. someone whose father was in talks with anya’s to arrange a betrothal, or perhaps one had already been arranged. they could know each other and have met, or have never laid eyes on each other. either way, once a royal prince is on the table, any deal is off.

cousins. i haven’t yet decided what house anya’s mother is from, so there are plenty of options for familial attachments there ! her father also probably had sisters, although they’d probably be another generation older and have adult grandchildren at this point, so. second cousins ? i think ?

enemies of the crown. honestly, i love some drama and animosity, so i’d love any reason for there to be tension and cold looks and only the barest minimum of politeness, with undertones of anger. ugh, wat a dream. could be they disapprove of the targaryens, or of daeryon in particular, or of her personally too i guess, or something went down ?

again these are just vague ideas, but i will come up with tons of more specific ones for anya and your muse(s) if you want me to !

[101flavoursofweird]

A cursed concept nobody asked for: The Tritons but they're members of Targent

A cool concept! I wouldn’t mind seeing Luke’s parents portrayed as *evil* if it was in an interesting AU. (Not that people need to construct a reason for how they portray a certain character, but there’s character portrayals and then there’s just character slander by a good portion of the fandom— while overlooking a literal villain‘s crimes because he has a cool design. I know Descole/Desmond is prettier than Clark, but REALLY…? :’D))

So, in this AU, after graduating from Gressenheller, Clark and Brenda were recruited by Targent as archaeologists— not soldiers— kind of like Mackintosh. They were so busy working for Targent that they didn’t even get to attend Claire’s funeral and they lost touch with Hershel even more. Then, Brenda gets pregnant with Luke and she wants to leave Targent. Clark isn’t sure about this. He’s heard rumours of a similar case where a female Targent agent ran off with her child, and suffered the consequences. So, rather than leaving, Clark asks their higher-ups if he and Brenda can settle down to do fieldwork somewhere. Much to his surprise and his relief, his request is granted.

Clark and Brenda are sent to Misthallery to search for the Golden Garden. This gives Brenda some respite to give birth to Luke and raise him peacefully for a few years. Luke isn’t aware that his parents work for Targent.

Seven years pass without many results on the Golden Garden. Targent’s leaders aren’t happy. Clark and Brenda decide get closer to the town’s mayor, Evan Barde, in the hopes that he will give them money and leads. Luke befriends the mayor’s ill daughter, Arianna. Brenda mentions to Evan how helpful the Golden Garden would be for Arianna, if only they could find it…

More years pass with no success. Clark ends up having an altercation with Evan outside his house. The details are still a bit murky, but according to Clark, he stormed off before Evan fell to his death. Third Eye Jakes is happy to close the book on this case without looking into it.

Descole infiltrates the Triton household, disguised as Doland. He somehow finds out that the Tritons work for Targent. He locks Brenda in the cellar with Doland. Descole uses their lives— along with Luke’s— as leverage to manipulate Clark, find the Golden Garden and to keep this hidden from the Targent higher-ups. When Clark asks why he is doing this, Descole simply replies, “You’re with Targent.”

Turns out Descole’s partner was the Targent deserter who got killed off, along with his daughter. So he feels 100% justified in manipulating a family of Targent agents. He’s only IMPRISONED Brenda and Doland. It’s not like he’s going to kill them, geez…

Luke writes to Layton, posing as Clark. Layton, after some persuasion from his new assistant, Emmy, travels to Misthallery. Clark is relieved to see Layton. Seeing an opportunity to deal with Descole and to find the Golden Garden, Clark asks for Layton’s help to stop the spectre. Layton is reluctant at first— the two aren’t as close as they would have been originally. (Layton never met Luke as a baby.) Emmy prompts Layton into helping. She’s aware that the Tritons are part of Targent, but the Tritons have no idea of where her loyalties lie.

Clark is happy that Luke wrote to Layton. Layton meets Luke and things play out from there pretty much as they would have originally with some minor differences. Luke occasionally mentions the ‘agency’ his parents work for.

After the final battle, after Descole has been defeated, he hints to Layton about the Tritons’ loyalties to the Targent agency. (Descole tries to suss out whether Layton is part of Targent too.) Layton acts clueless.

Layton is glad that he could help the Tritons, especially Luke, but he gently refuses Luke’s request to become his apprentice. He doesn’t trust Clark and Brenda, and he plans to look into this ‘Targent agency’ without their knowledge. Emmy is shaken by this and tries to steer him away from Targent.

Luke is sad, but he’s excited when his father reveals that his family will be moving to London. (Ironically, Luke gets on with Clark even BETTER in this AU.)

A few months later, Layton receives a letter from his former student, Janice, and two tickets for an opera. He attends the opera with Emmy and— surprise, surprise— the Tritons are attending the opera as well!

[missmorior]

just a thing- unfinished but i wanna share it elsewhere so i’m putting it here

Log date 24/09/XX

My name is Fen.

This was the first thing that had returned to me upon resurrection. Eons ago it may have been longer, as this feels like a nickname more than one proper. This… Ghost, assures me that forgetfulness is normal. To remedy it, I have decided to keep a log with what I know, so that I might piece together who I once was before I was chosen by the Traveller to wield its light.

I know that now, I am… Something. A protecter of those without the light. There are not many of us, and in the wake of the Darkness, humanity is scattered to the winds- terrified but still trying to survive. Many struggle to wield this power, to shape it, but I have no such hurry. My priorities lie with the people. I pick up what weapons I can scavenge or piece together, and when bullets run out, I have my fists. The energy that consumes my actions feels… empty. Like a Void. There is comfort in it.

Log date 08/04/XX

My name is Fen. I am a Defender Titan. My ghost is called Horus. My mission is to protect the Last City.

I have not been as good at keeping a log as I had once thought. The scattered entires have been bothering me more and more now that I have remembered who I once was. A scientist under the employ of one Clovis Bray. I did not always agree with his methods but… I believe it was the only way for me to have had the freedom I desired for my work. Exos. I was one of the few who helped develop the creatures. I see them, every now and again, and am filled with mixed emotion. Joy, at seeing a creation realized. Sorrow, at knowing that not all of their programming was entirely mechanical. Disgust at…

But I digress.

I log now to account for my found fireteam. It has been decades since I have thought to form such a close knit unit, I had thought this old woman too seasoned for it. These two are young, having only recently been brought back to life. I fear for them at times. Their youth begets recklessness, believing themselves truly immortal after the first few deaths. They are high on their Light and eager to earn approval. The Warlock burns as bright as a star, her Light blinding and difficult to look at when she bursts from ash like a Golden Age myth. She is an Awoken, a true child of the Reef who fought against the Fallen, and still has the rage to show it. There is no quiet of the Void within her like my own Light, and I believe it frustrated Ikora at times to see a guardian under her watch who is so determined to buck her teachings. Never let her learn of the storm- I fear instead of control, she would let the Arc run rampant. Speaking of… Our odd third member. An Exo that was found within the depths of the Hellmouth, whose ghost knew of her existence but was terrified to traverse the Moon. I understand. But years rotting away within that unknown liquid which spawns the Hive have left her without a voice and whatever color her metal once was, it is now unnatural darkness. Fitting that this creature became a Hunter. The Bladedance called to that one, I see her blinking from perch to perch. I wonder what Cayde-6 thinks of her; a silent Hunter among his yipping coyotes.

We have worked together to bring down the Hive creature- Crota. Our part not too significant but with these two I have no doubt we will be throwing ourselves into the fray all too soon. There are stirrings from the outer reaches of the Reef and the Fallen have grown too quiet. The Warlock grows restless. We may yet be flying out to her home soon.

Log date 10/10/XX

My name is Fen. I am a Defender Titan. My ghost is named Horus. I miss my Fireteam.

Nostalgia is a new thing. I have never longed for days gone by, but in the wake of the containment of SIVA Lyra and Blink have left to pursue their own goals while I remain behind in the city. Don’t get me wrong, I love the people of the city and have found fulfillment in helping to train new Guardians. These young people, so full of life and light.. They make me feel young again! One young Titan has become something of an apprentice to me. A human by the name of Claudius. He too has no memory of his past, like so many I’ve seen, and views the loss as a challenge. He wants to become someone who his past life would have been proud of. I wonder… Have I become that? Ha, the youth these days… He’s fallen in with two Warlocks also under my tutelage, and I have faith they will be an incredible team. And we once more return to what began this log. Lyra remains out at the Reef, assisting her people in rebuilding their home and consoling those still reeling from the loss of their Queen and Prince. She manages to send messages now and again, that their work is going well, and the Awoken are banding together even stronger than before. However they are few and far between… I wonder, will she ever return to the Tower? Or will she choose to remain with her kin now? Blink has chosen to remain at Fellwinter Peak among the Iron Lords, and recent news has shown that she has fully proven herself as one of them. I still see her now and again within the Crucible when I take my trainees to see how fully fledged Guardians fight. Her Bladedance is still chaotic as ever, and the laughter as she blinks her way through seasoned fireteams to unleash destruction makes me long for our days as a team. To bring us together again and show these young ones how a real fireteam fights.

Ah, I’ve wasted enough time. A message is coming through from Commander Zavala on an urgent channel.

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Log… Request Access… ********* Access Granted…… >Name query…. Data missing Query- “who are you?”….. >Data missing Query- “what are you?”….. >Exo. Model- unknown. Function- exploration and scouting. Query- “can you see me?”….. >Answer: yes. You are the annoying little light. You are also entertaining to irritate. Query- “can you speak?”…. >Answer: no. sensors indicate voice module has suffered extensive damage. >System query: how long have i been deactivated? Answer: “A very long time.” >System query: what am i? Answer: “A Guardian. Specifically? A hunter, though I don’t know what s-“… >Answer terminated. Too longwinded. The glowing human with you thinks I’m funny too. >System query: what is your name? Answer: “Well, I’m a ghost- oh no I can see that look don’t you cut me off again! I don’t have one-“….. >Understood. System memory recalls someone of similar fondness. They are dead now. >System believes that you would fit the name. >System query: set ‘Ghost’ name to ‘Desmond’…..? >Permission Granted….. Saving for reference….. >System query: can we hurry up and destroy some hive monstrosities Answer: “Copy that, Guardian. Let’s get you armed.”

Log……. Request Access… **************** Access Denied… ‘Cayde_is_a_loser’ is not the password, no matter how many times it has been tried >System message: Damn. Request Access… ************** Access Granted……. >System query: how long since the SIVA crisis?…. 2 years. 14 days. 7 hours. 57 minutes. >Name query….. System name set to “Blink” >System query: search systems for reference of prior system names…… Results found, would you like to restore name to “Nova-88”? >Denied…. System name remains set as “Blink” >System message: So.. Another of these logs. Des thinks he’s the only one with fancy machine bits, ha! It’s been.. A while, since I’ve bothered with these. I never took stock in the past, but more and more it’s been coming up. I don’t trust it. This SIVA business was made by Clovis Bray, who Fen and Whatever-good used to work for. There was the simulated emotions as well that were transmitted biologically and mechanically by Guardians a while back there too. Secret-y nonsense that not even the Warlocks understood. The Iron Lords returned and as much as I adore my brothers and sisters here… I think even Saladin realizes that my pack is not among them. My calling, yes. I can do the most good here and out in the wilds, not under the Vanguard’s jurisdiction. Systems still remain dodgy but I think I’m finally over it all. The Light fills in what bits are missing from my programming so I don’t even bother with trying to recover any lost memory from the previous 87 iterations of myself. They aren’t me anyway. I’m the only one who’s been a Guardian. Probably has a lot to do with the Vex tech that always makes me malfunction anyway and I don’t want to know more about them. They’re murderous robots. I kill the murderous robots. Tada! The End. Done. Anyways I have this story to record about the newbies who keep trying to climb to the top of Fe- >System reminder….. Meeting with Fireteam member ‘Havoc’ in approximately: 2 hours. Travel by ship will take: 1 hour 30 minutes. >System message: Ughhhhhh… I promised to meet her new protege. Right. This is Blink, signing off.

Log……….. Request Access….. ************************* Access De- >nO FUCK THAT THIS IS MY PROGRAMMING. SYSTEM OVERRIDE. Access Granted….. >System message: It’s gone. It’s gone it’s gone it’s gone it’s gone it’s gone it’s all gone. Why did this happen? How did this happen? Desmond is nowhere- I’ve been looking. Please let him be okay, please please please please- I can’t find my guns. There’s nothing to fight with. Where is Havoc? She was here too. I know she was I KNOW she was. What was his name… what was his NAME. I’ll KILL him. How DARE he. HOW DARE HE. >Proximity alert: friendly signature detected on approach >System query: identify signature. who’s still here >Signature identified as: Rabbit (Fiery Space Witch) >System message: Oh praise the Traveller, it’s Lyra. Someone’s alive. Someone’s safe. We need to get out. Away. I still need Desmond oh please please let him be- DESMOND. >Desmond: “Guardian… You’re alive.. I was so worried….” >System message: It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. I was so scared. The Light is gone.

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