#i am fully aware none of this is canon
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Yay, I finally finished the first chapter of my new fic...
†Our cursed love†
This is my first time writing an actual fic so it might not be that good, constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged! I would really like to know your opinions on what I'm doing right and wrong, things I should change and so forth.
A little PS this is not going to be absolutely canon, there will be some changes to the lore and techniques so be warned. I am also fully up to date on the manga so there will be manga spoilers.
Please enjoy the first chapter of ‡Our cursed love‡.
No warnings
~_Our cursed love._~
Chapter 1- Our pedestal.
~No one POV:~
The day is like any other day to most people. The sun blazing high in the bright blue sky, perfect white fluffy clouds dot the sky, moving along swiftly with the breeze. The sound of streets full of vehicles and streets full of people fills the air.
The day was like any other to non-sorcerers.
They all go about their lives, completely oblivious to the two Gods currently walking among them, blissfully unaware of the evil seeking to destroy these two Gods.
The day was like any other to the two Gods. Aware they’re being hunted but unaware of each other.
It’s true what they say, ‘ignorance is bliss’ and our two Gods will have to learn that lesson the hard way.
~3rd Person POV~
A young boy, around the age of 9 walks with an unusually cold face for a child wearing a blue hoodie with beige shorts and black sneakers. His expression isn’t the only eye catching thing about him, his eyes are quite simply breathtaking. Strikingly brilliant sky blue orbs. His short, fluffy white hair gently swaying in the breeze.
To passers by he seems like a relatively normal child with oddly spectacular looks but normal is not a word fit to describe this God.
Satoru Gojo decided to take a trip to Shibuya for no other reason than boredom. He knows it’s ‘dangerous’ because of the many, many bounties on his head but does he care? No, of course not.
Why would he care? He’s a ‘God’ right? All these fools are beneath him, besides its clear that none of them would even be a problem, he might be 9 but he knows his place in this world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he’s been born with and he knows how to use it -albeit not well- one glare is enough to dissuade anyone crazy enough to target him.
He can sense them all around him, thinking they’re hiding their cursed energy well but nothing can get past his six eyes, nothing.
~10 minutes earlier~
A young boy with long grey hair tied into a neat pony wearing a (f/c) shirt and (2/f/c) pants that are clearly too big for him and a pair of (f/c) boots steps out of a fancy black car in the middle of Shibuya. The 9 year old closes the door and the car drives off, left unattended which would be odd if he were just a boy, although his expression is somewhat normal for a boy his age, relatively bored, his eyes hidden by a pair of blacked out glasses with a circular frame.
He confidently makes his way through the busy streets, despite his small size he easily navigates a path through the much taller adults, some only sparing him a brief glance but none question why there’s a clear gap between him and everyone, a physically space none of them an seem to cross, naturally and absentmindedly moving around the boy to avoid it.
M/n Goto is aware of this gap as it’s intentional. He’s practicing although the few hungry pairs of eyes on him are distracting. M/n knows venturing out alone is ‘risky’ because of how valuable he is but hes a God isn’t he? Those fools are beneath him.
They’re clearly trying very hard to hide their cursed energy but alas it’s in vain, M/n sensed them following him since he left his estate. It’s not like any of them would be a problem for him, he knows his place in the world, he knows the ‘blessing’ he was born with and he knows how to use it -thanks to his loving father training him since he could walk-, one glare is enough to dissuade any idiotic enough to try and mess with a God, besides nothing can touch him without his permission, nothing.
~present time~
Destiny is a funny thing, many argue its existence.
If destiny exists then freedom cannot.
If freedom exists then destiny cannot.
Many argue its existence, many chose to deny its existence, they chose freedom.
The freedom of choice.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo both chose to come to Shibuya today because they wanted to, they were bored and chose to do the riskiest thing by leaving unsupervised.
They both chose to walk this random street, they both decided they were tired of being followed and chose to turn around. A completely, random choice.
Completely random.
“Huh-?!”
“What-?!”
Time suddenly stops for two young, lonely, untouchable Gods.
M/n Goto and Satoru Gojo do not believe in destiny, so what is this feeling? Not the physical feeling of their shoulders colliding.
This sudden tug, this oddly familiar feeling like meeting a different version of yourself.
Luminous, sparkling sky blue orbs meet now uncovered blazing, blood red orbs and for the first time both are in absolutely awe of another’s appearance.
~M/n POV~
‘He- he bumped into me… his eyes… they’re… how did he-? This feeling… who is he, i feel like I should know… wait… he’s…’
~Satoru POV~
‘I didn’t sense him-? He touched me… i was sure i had it on… those eyes, they’re breathtaking… who is he? Why do i feel like I should know him? Wait… he’s…’
~3rd person POV~
“Cursed.” They both mumble at the same time causing both their eyes to widen, both taking a step back from the other.
The warm, carbon filled air suddenly feels a whole lot more suffocating, the feeling tugging at both of them gets stronger and they both know the other feels it.
It’s an odd sight, two unsupervised 9 year old standing in the middle of a busy Shibuya street just silently staring at each other in what can only be described as bewilderment.
For the longest time they’ve both believed them to have no equal. From the moment they opened their eyes they were forced to live in a word beneath them filled with people beneath them. They were put on pedestals so high no one else could ever hope to climb it and yet…
Their lonely pedestal is apparently bigger than they thought, all they had to do was turn around and be confronted with the other.
A shared pedestal is something everyone told them was impossible, they were born Gods among mortals, they were special, miracles, forever alone.
“Goto M/n…” M/n, finally regaining his brain, blurts out, feeling something he’s never felt before, nervous.
“Gojo Satoru…” Satoru eventually replies, having taken a few more seconds to recover and identify the unknown feeling in his chest, anxiety.
“We should probably lose them first before we talk…” M/n suggests, hesitantly turning his gaze away from Satoru and toward one of the groups of curse users currently hiding out in a tall building across the street with horror on their faces because the sheer amount of power coming from the two Gods is mind breaking.
Satoru turns his gaze towards another group hiding on a rooftop few building’s down with the same expression and hums in agreement. He slowly reaches out to grab M/n’s hand, he doesn’t know why but he just does.
The moment their skin makes contact they both jump, the feeling of physically touching another is so foreign, so intrusive yet so natural.
They quickly easy into the feeling, Satoru pulling M/n along and M/n following without complaint.
This action feels so normal it’s almost easy to forget the innocent looking 9 year old boys are running away from assassins hunting Gods not boys.
They both in this moment, forget they are Gods, they forget they are cursed, they both, even if only for a fleeting moment just feel like two normal boys, running freely through the streets of Shibuya, unsure of when they actually started running but unwilling to spend any time thinking about it.
They just run, the destination isn’t a concern to either of them and after running for what felt like both a lifetime and barely a second they stop in a dark, dirty alleyway, joyful laughter still bubbling from their chests as they catch their breath.
“Phew, I’m pretty sure we lost them.” Satoru comments as he leans against the wall, relaxing a bit more because he can’t sense anyone else.
“Hmm, it would be foolish of them to follow.” M/n adds, leaning on the opposite wall, also relaxing.
A short, comfortable silence envelopes the two Gods as their gazes lock, again being completely caught off guard by the other’s eyes. Millions of questions run through both of their minds, having finally found another like them is something they didn’t think possible , they were told it’s impossible.
“How… how did you touch me? Get past my barrier which I’m positive was active?” M/n asks incredulously, he should be absolutely horrified someone can bypass his technique but he isn’t.
Satoru looks at M/n in slight shock, now being made aware the other also had a barrier active at the time of contact.
“I… I don’t know, i also had a barrier active so maybe they cancelled out?” Satoru would have never thought he’d say that with such a casual tone, someone being able to bypass the one thing that makes him untouchable, he should see M/n as a threat but he doesn’t.
“So we both have a kind of barrier technique and they cancel out somehow… that should be horrifying right? Our one impenetrable defence rendered useless…” M/n’s voice drops to a low whisper but there’s no hint of defensiveness, simply taking in the fact he can be touched, he’s not unbeatable.
“It should but honestly it just makes me excited ya know?” Satoru chuckles, his eyes sparkling even more as his usual cold expression replaced a small grin, his heart is still pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling getting stronger the longer the talks to M/n.
M/n mirrors Satoru’s expression, feeling the same pounding in his chest, the tugging feeling moving his feet forward as he takes a seat on the floor next to Satoru, his barrier preventing his clothes from getting dirty. Satoru quickly joins him, activating his own barrier to stay clean.
Although both of them are just 9 years old, being born basically ‘God’s’ they naturally possessed some basic control of their techniques, both already having trained to use their techniques for a few hours none stop before they get tired.
“It is isn’t, my entire life I’ve been told no one would be able to challenge me and I thought how boring that sounds, they said I stand on a pedestal made for Gods and that I alone stand atop it, atop everyone else and then I thought how… lonely that sounded…” M/n says, pulling his legs to his chest as he rests his head on his knees, looking at his new found friend.
Satoru adopts the same pose, his mind and soul filled with pure joy as M/n speaks because he understands, he understands so well and he never thought someone else would understand.
“Mhm, they called me blessed my entire life, a miracle. Showering me in praises and gifts alike, telling me how special I am, how I’m better than everyone else. They also call me a God, put me on a pedestal too tall for a kid… They don’t see the view from the top, they don’t see how big and empty that pedestal is…”
M/n listens to Satoru, there’s something freeing in listening to him speak, like a weight lifted off his shoulders, the weight of being called the strongest and the loneliness that comes with it, a weight no 9 year old should even have to know about.
“Well it was big and empty but perhaps we can share it?” M/n asks with a hopeful tone, somehow already knowing he doesn’t really need to ask.
“I… I would like that. Our pedestal?” Satoru has never felt this type of excitement, the idea of sharing, being equal to someone else, of not being alone is enough to make him feel like a normal kid.
“Our pedestal.” M/n repeats, the word ‘our’ rolling off his tongue so naturally.
“So what do you normally do for fun? When you’re actually allowed to do what you want ?” Satoru asks, clearly excited to do whatever friends do when they hang out, he’s excited because he doesn’t really known what others do because he’s never bothered to pay attention to anyone else, they were beneath him so there was no point in getting to know them but now, now he’s never been more interested in another.
M/n grins, suddenly standing up and looking down at Satoru with a sparkles in his already spectacular eyes. Satoru still can’t believe he likes someone else’s eyes more than his own, his attention immediately glued on M/n. They both feel that tug again as M/n extends his hand towards Satoru, the idea of physical contact regardless of their barriers still seems so absurd but so enticing.
“Wanna find out?”
Satoru takes M/n’s hand, the unfamiliar warmth of another comforting their souls , penetrating their minds. M/n pulls Satoru up and their hands stay linked as they exit the alleyway, M/n leading the way, unknowingly staring the first chapter in a very long and dangerous book.
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Tag list-
@itsgivingitalian
#malereader#dom male reader#seme male reader#top male reader#male reader#akumakosuketoughts#jjk x male reader#jujutsu kaisen#suguru geto x male reader#satoru gojo x male reader#gojo satoru#geto suguru
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Triggered by a conversation between mutuals that I wasn't able to partake in because I read it when it was already over but it still left me with a feeling of wanting to talk.
Many of my recent issues with this series and some of the characters in it come from coming to terms with the fact that people like me were never the intended demographic for it and thus many of my expectations and beliefs are unrealistic. I'm very much aware that every person who ever reads a text will understand it differently based on their experiences and emotions, we can see the most clear examples of it when it comes to the eternal debates on whether Jeyne & Sansa really bullied Arya or whether Catelyn's treatment of Jon should be considered abuse, but at least in my case the projection is based more on political situations that have strongly affected me and my loved ones and that are difficult to talk about in the open without feeling like my concerns are exaggerated and are also ruining other people's fun.
This is a fun series that has given my solace written by a white usan democrat who writes orientalist tropes and gives no real personality to any of his fully-canon-not-up-to-interpretation characters of colour and uses a half assed excuse to not have any of the main characters be a not-up-to-interpretation character of colour.
An example that is lighthearted and makes me chuckle could be my perception of the Vale. To me Mya Stone wears heavy colourful ponchos while Myranda wears a sanq'apa, Domeric Bolton played not only the harp but also the charango, maté is a common drink, and at least some of Sweetrobyn's lacking health comes from soroche. None of this is contradictory to the canon but I know that if I were to meet grrm and tell him of these concepts, he would probably think I'm on crack but would smile in false sympathy while Liiiiiiindaaaaaaaaa (and some readers, fans and tumblerinas) would just straight up tell me to go read something from my shithole country instead of tarnishing the beautiful and perfect European-based world of ice and fire./sar
And I am aware that the ironborn are perceived by most and are somewhat intended to be perceived as pseudo-historic "vikings but in the late Middle Ages" but I read these books when I was 12 and still thought that vikings were just a Hollywood invention, like the orange filter they put on Latin America or white saviours.
With this long introduction here are some random headcanons regarding ironborn lore and culture that aren't contradictory to canon but would probably clash against the more common fandom-built conceptions (many of which I do not like), sometimes accompanied by explanations and reasoning, often sentimental or based on personal experiences.
Nagga, the other unnamed dragon and the geographical formation of the islands
Heavily inspired by the myth of Trentren Vilu and Caicai Vilu. In the original real life mapuche myth the two giant snakes were enemies and after Caicai Vilu (sea snake) awoke form his slumber he caused a flood to bring down mankind because he considered them ungrateful brats who didn't appreciate the gifts offered by the sea. Trentren Vilu (land snake) helped the humans escape by raising the hills and turning those who drowned into sea creatures (fish, sea mammals and the mapuche equivalent to mermaids included) and those who were about to be engulfed by the waters into sea birds. Due to the long fighting and constant floods the land developed into thousands (not an exaggeration) islands.
My ironborn version of this isn't very different from the myth narrated above with Caicai Vilu's role becoming Nagga's and Trentren Vilu's being given to another sort of dragon that was it's oponent. The major difference in my headcanons is that said opponent perished, unlike Trentren, and Nagga kept on living and causing havoc until the Grey King finally killed it off. And if I am allowed to reach out even more with all this, the mermaid that the Grey King married could have been one of Nagga's victims saved by the other dragon but, taking into account what we know from Strange Stone this would mean that the formation of the Islands and the existence of merlings and the sea dragon would precede the Drowned God. That would be interesting.
Architectonic decoration
Some of my happiest memories take place in a small and poor fisher town in my home country that was usually damp and covered in fog. The beach was not a pleasant one. A remarkable thing about it was it's architecture that wasn't very particular in it's structure but still remains striking to me. The houses near the coast were all typical colourful, wooden stilt houses, but the further you got into land the houses would change and suddenly you found yourself in small and dirty alleys and streets between concrete houses that were rather plain in shape and old but the walls were covered in sea shells, and sometimes starfish and sea urchin carcasses, that had been plastered on the concrete. When I was 12 and had just moved to another country my class was tasked with making a dissertation about what we associate with the word "home". My teacher was a xenophobe who delighted in tormenting me and she laughed at the pictures and referred to them as tacky, my fellow classmates liked emulating her. I however still find them beautiful and that entire sentiment is something I mildly associate to the iron islands in a way.
It is my home. Flawed and meagre, but mine.
I also think that since sea shells are cheap and common it would fit into their more utilitarian tendencies; giving a purpose to what little they have instead of overspending (gold price) on aesthetics. For some reason this is something I like imagining at Harlaw and Lordsport in particular.
Here are pictures
Music
Feel weird about this because music in the entirety of Westeros is very generic and that makes it a little boring in my opinion. When it comes to Ironborn we are told of two reaving songs ("Steel Rain" and "The Bloody Cup") and it's mentioned quite often by ironborn characters that getting a song about them is something they should strive for. There might even be some religious reasons behind it too but that wasn't expanded on:
The Drowned God had made them to reave and rape, to carve out kingdoms and write their names in fire and blood and song.
- Theon I, ACOK
Makes me wonder if Theon's "Let Abel make a song of that, we flew." could have been influenced by ironborn culture too instead of just his usual romanticism and the chivalric connotations of him "saving the girl". I haven't compared this to the other characters so I can't be sure about this but from my notes Theon seems to think quite a lot about wanting to be in/not being fit for a song.
We also have Loron Greyjoy, "the Bard", and we know very little of him except for that he used to have a gay ol' time with Desmond Mallister, but there's nothing that points to him being looked down on by the other ironborn and the nickname "the bard" feels significant but there's no info so what am I to make up with that? Well, I like to think he was a bit of a patron of the arts and maybe even a composer. The two reaving songs have no mentioned origins so maybe he was involved in their creation.
The thralls were pouring ale, and there was music, fiddles and skins and drums.
- Theon II, ACOK
I like all of those instruments but grrm you are a bore. Westeros is about the size of South America and yet they have a total of nine instruments named. Loved the mention of kettledrums during the kingsmoot though.
The largest kettledrum in the world finds itself in Bali and serves religious purposes. I like to believe that perhaps the kettledrums during the kingsmoot also had some religious reasons for their use. Perhaps traditional melodies used to announce the different contenders for the seastone chair.
Drums make sense for reaving songs and truth be told I'm not sure to what he was referring with "skins" but I was surprised by the fiddles because they seemed like a wink at the just as anachronistic golden age piracy, even if fiddles have been around since the 10th century. This makes me think of more folkloric oriented music made more for dancing in taverns and harbours than for rowing.
When being deranged I became aware that percussion and string instruments can be played underwater as they don’t rely solely on air to transfer sound (they would still be very difficult to play and the sound would be weird). Dragging a bow across a fiddle would probably be easier than strumming a harp or lyre though. I don’t think the ironborn are deranged enough to try to play music under water but it makes for a fun picture to imagine them being more fond of sounds that can be transferred through it. I’m imagining them trying echolocation with dolphins.
For some reason I can’t really explain I like the idea of them playing the marimba and other percussion wood based instruments.
I like to believe that the finger dance can be somewhat compared to capoeira as in serving aesthetically pleasing and artistic purposes but also carrying a sort of danger and fighting spirit to it. It is something I can see as a pastime, acrobatic exercise and art and I like that.
Some mapiko dancers will bind sea shells in nets to their clothes and they will use them as bells and rattles when they dance. I like to think this could maybe be part of the finger dance when performed for artistic purposes, like perhaps a diplomatic visit or a national festivity, instead of just as a game.
(not ironborn lore related but as I went through my notes I realised that Theon is usually tense when thinking or witnessing happyish heroic sort of songs but he seems to be weirdly at peace/melancholic around "sad" and "soft" songs during ADWD and I find that very endearing. Go listen to Chris Garneau's between the bars and castle time you sad sulking ghost I love you I wish I could have seen you thrive but we are all doomed : ) )
Priestesses of the drowned god
I am heavily against the fandom notion that the Ironborn built a culture out of toxic masculinity that is particularly misogynistic when in canon women in the island (or at least ironborn women) have more liberties than in most of Westeros (with Dorne as an exception and maaaaaybe the North). The only female stewards we see in the series are all iron islanders and Asha being allowed to reave and raid and engage in spaces usually reserved to men isn't the exception to the rule. Theon mentions that women like her aren't uncommon in the isles, Asha is said to have resembled her mother in spirit and Hagen's beautiful red headed daughter, who is so low on the socio-economical hierarchy that she doesn't even get her own name, is not only allowed to behave similarly to Asha, but her sexual freedom is never questioned or criticised either. I honestly think that their most problematic issues come from feelings of ethnic superiority, not a personal vendetta against women.
So, I find it disappointing and lazy that we haven't gotten any female spaces in the faith of the drowned god. I remember someone mentioning on a Tumblr post that on one of the asoiaf based video games drowned priestesses were a thing. Sadly I have never played any of the video games and I can't find any further sources for this so I don't know if I should trust that. But! I like that idea. Drowned priests are restless; they have no home and are made to basically pilgrim their life away; they travel around the islands and also accompany the men on raids. I think it would be cool if the priestesses of the drowned god had a more stable role in ironborn society. During the age of heroes we had salt and rock kings and in a way I could see the drowned priestesses as the rock to the drowned priests salt but with less authority.
Maesters are still somewhat recent in the Iron Islands and I don't think that Septas would have been appreciated by most ironborn women given their teachings and expectations around gender norms so I like believing that priestesses of the drowned god could occupy that space as educators of children and healers. History and religion seemed to be tied together in ironborn culture and their religion at least passed down orally so I can imagine them acting somewhat similar to mande jèli but with more of a focus on religion and less importance on the overall politics. I can also imagine them performing less important rites, like weddings, coming of age ceremonies or maybe fertility related acts. So basically a mixture between Maester and Septa with a lesser standing to their male counterparts.
Rafts as beds
Drowned priests, who have no homes, should sleep on rafts on nights that are more or less calm because that is a magical experience that I think everyone should go through at least once in their life but it's also fitting to their entire suffering theme because you will freeze to death and get a cold.
Dhows
I learnt how to row, sail, fish and use the night sky as a map before I learned how to ride a bike and my personal nitpicking issue with the world building in asoiaf is the nautical terms used. What do you mean longships and galleys that have decks and cabins????? Even if they have two levels of rowers (and most of the described ones don't) this rarely makes sense!
And you know what? I'm not even going to take my time to give them accurate Viking-like ships. In my head, they travel on dhows. "Dhow" is a generic term to refer to certain types of sailing boats that are mostly used around the Indian Ocean and I am in love with them.
They are precious to me and they allow me more variety when imagining the different ships mentioned in relation to the ironborn characters.
Sea Bitch for example looks more like a beden to me than like a typical Viking longship
but I can still imagine smaller, simpler looking galleys when needed, like a Dhoni. They can carry quite a lot of heavy stuff so they are usually good for trading (and probably raiding) too.
If I recall correctly, the Iron fleet has been identified by the text as some hybrid between dromonds and longships and I can be content with that definition. Personally I picture them more like Byzantine dromonds with a deck, cabins and more than one set of rowers.
Colloquialisms
I have always perceived colloquialisms as a subtle type of resistance to colonial and imperial forces, so I assume that the less integrated and maybe more separatist parts of Westeros (such as the Iron Islands, Dorne and maybe The North) would probably have a wider range of colloquialism as region based expressions. This is difficult to convey in fanworks of any sort and I can't think of any time I've made it noticeable in any of my fanworks but I like thinking about it. This could include idioms related to religious or geographical lore or more ambitious terms stemming from perhaps a former language spoken in the region or words taken and adapted from places they have sailed to, like the Summer Islands.
#I think many of my issues with this fandom could have been solved if I had become an ironborn supremacist in the same spirit as the#t@rgnation/st@rk stans;#don't know how to tag this. this isn't about any character in particular. I'm just saying stuff because I no longer give one tenth of a f#speaking#asoiaf
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HI HI HI
I need Lesbian couple Ronance with their skater daughter Max and Gay couple Steddie with their autistic son Dustin who are all neighbors and it’s really awkward because Steve and Nancy are exes and Max is technically Steve’s legal daughter as well.
The thing is— Nancy and Steve aren’t just exes, they’re ex-wife and ex-husband. Divorced. Out of each other’s lives other than Max.
Max knew 100% that they were moving next door to Steve (her dad) and chose to stay silent about it because 1) she lives for drama and 2) it means she doesn’t have to go so far to see him and can spend more time seeing him.
Of course Dustin is 100% aware of this and enables it fully.
I was trying to think of a way to include Mike in this cause he’s Nancy’s younger brother and as funny as it would be for Mike to technically be Max’s (and Dustin’s) uncle I think I’m just going to have him be Robin and Nancy’s legal child because Madwheeler siblings is a must.
Dustin and Max know each other from Max’s weekend and Holiday visits. Mike and Dustin know each other from school and are ofc really close friends but don’t know about their “parent situation”.
Robin and Steve are still best friends but Nancy has no idea that Robin’s precious “Evie” is is her ex-husband and Steve knows that Robin is Nancy’s new fiancé but doesn’t say anything because he assumes that Robin knows about their history already. (She does know but she doesn’t realize that Steve is /that/ Steve.)
Eddie’s just kind of there— but I really want him and Nancy to meet while Eddie is working on her car (mechanic Eddie my beloved) and Eddie takes a moment but goes “omg your my husband’s ex-wife!” in typical Eddie fashion and Nancy has no idea what to do with this new information.
None of the kids call Steve, Eddie, Robin and Nancy mom or dad (just cause that feels weird to write outside of it being a bit). They’ve all agreed on first names— considering that both couples are only in their mid-late 20s (maybe early 30s??).
Will, El and Lucas are ofc mentioned— all having their normal canon families (with Wonder Twins). They are also 100% in on the “parent situation” and are also fully enabling it cause it’s funny as hell and Will and El’s favorite movie is The Parent Trap.
Mike is also in on the “parent situation” but he doesn’t know that he is also part of the situation (being Ronance’s legal child). He knows Dustin’s parents ofc, but it never clicks that Steve is /that/ Steve (like Robin lol). He only really figures it out when he goes over after school and Max is there and Mike’s like “why tf are u here?” and Dustin’s like “Mike that’s my sister” and Mike’s like “no that’s MY sister” and Max is watching the entire thing unfold because she knew the entire time.
I love how this sounds so far and I am absolutely planning on making it happen. Prolly gonna call it The Parent Trap For Morons.
#stranger things#steve harrington#dustin henderson#mike wheeler#robin buckley#eddie munson#will byers#el hopper#found family#max mayfield#nancy wheeler#lucas sinclair#steddie#ronance
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How would you describe the dynamic between seosane 🙏
they mean everything to me,, (receiving your question right after i got one that says "yaoi" was very fun for me. yeah thats my yaoi <3)
Spoilers for the entire DLC, including whats past the youtube TL! I mention things from Hermit Room. quotes are paraphrased or referenced bc i am too lazy to dig for them.
I have another seosane essay somewhere in drafts but i can't find it rn and it's not edited so you're getting my current stream of consciousness <3
sanemitsu and seodore are two people who, by the end of dlc, have very different perspectives on how to handle the timeline and what should be done. Sanemitsu in particular goes through several perspectives on this, varying from his POV pre-1999, 1999-2015, S root, and S+. They are parallels and narrative foils, and this shapes how they interact with each other.
From their first interactions, they both have something that the other party wants. Seodore promises that Sanemitsu can change things, if they can reach Gods Love. Sanemitsu is critical to changing things (as we see in the start of DLC/S root). You can see them talk about this in record 4, where neither of them will know if Sanemitsu's ability has activated or taken effect. Seodore wants Sanemitsu to use this ability. Sanemitsu resists because he knows that if he changes the past, then he'll lose Reiji. Reiji, who is his number one priority, who he's clinging to as tight as he can.
But they appreciate each other. There's fondness. Their breakfast conversation at the end of DLC highlights that despite them ending up on different perspectives on the past, they still understand each other.
What always stands out to me is in Hermit room, there is a choice that the player can make. The two options are (paraphrased):
Even if we gained something at the end of it, it would have been better if none of it had happened. [better to change the past even if we gained something in the end]
If we gained something at the end of it, then we can't say that it would have been better that none of it had happened. [better that the past happens (good and bad), if we gained something in the end of it]
This choice is both paralleling Sanemitsu's perspective change in S vs S+, and the perspective of Seodore versus Sanemitsu (and System.NH) as two halves of the same whole. They're foils, and remain on good terms despite their differing POVs.
it's about the Metafiction. Sanemitsu doesn't break the fourth wall until after our current point in canon (System.NH is 2019 and also Outside the Timeline). Seodore breaks it ALL the time bc he Knows but doesnt SEE. Tangent but can you tell I really like the metafiction groups. I like System.NH + Seodore + Mutei, I think it's fun.
It's about the quiet things going on in the background. About blood, about factors, about inheritance. The contrast between the domesticity of daily life (seodore canonically makes him breakfast!). It's about "I'll take your hand, Seodore" (PARAPHRASING AGAIN) and things left unspoken. It's about what he says about Seodore in his journal from 1999. (see just before record 4. yt tl doesnt show us whats inside unfortunately).
Also it's SO good that they have other priorities than each other. They both know and are fully aware of this and it's so <33
This is why I like the intro scene to DLC so much too-- they both know that they're dying there. Even if this plan works, even if things change, even if the interaction between the Rainbow Factor Artifact (Malkuth) and Respawn means that there's a chance to save Reiji, then the selves that exist in this moment still die. This is peak yaoi to me.
There is something to be said about how sanemitsu refuses to risk using this power, until the very last moment. He only does so when Reiji is dead and he's lost the last person he wanted to cling to so desperately.
Fun Fact: Seodore has his eyes closed for this entire scene except for ONE frame as sanemitsu raises the blade <3
I realize a lot of this is about them as a duo but not necessarily in a shipping lens oops.
From the lens of them as a COUPLE, they dont talk about it LMAO. They are doing couple things and ignoring their feelings about it bc theyre both still mourning other people. I do think they're the kind of couple who do domestic things like grocery shopping together,, cooking,, sitting around at home,, a casual kind of comfort in each other. The hand holding symbolism gets to me. "ill take your hand" linked with THIS SCENE, RIGHT AFTER THAT LINE. Linked with Sanemitsu's scarred hand only being present in S+ because it comes from killing Seodore. They mean everything to me.
You have no idea how crazy i went when i saw this scene DSALKLKJDSA
This ended up off topic. this all factors into the dynamic of two guys who keep thinking about other things and have a lot going on but can choose to find comfort in each other regardless. i think they should kiss <3
anyways. these are my guys who i love and adore. Seosane forever <3
#cell of empireo#seosane#sanemitsu isoi#seodore riddle#aria rambles#aria answers#aria's analysis#anon#coe spoilers#gavi no clicky#yayyy my yaoi#ok this is getting long enough#i need to finish my dlc replay#i went on tangents sorry#also i do not explain the s to s+ stuff but ill explain it another time
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Random Thoughts I Had While Rewatching Wicked World S1:
(yes I am fully aware its a kids show with limited time but I will still yell about things XD)
They REALLY had to make Mall's eyes gray? brown? seems to change but still, her eyes are GREEN
"At my birthday parties" You had ONE birthday party Evie. One.
And evil minion bakers? Really?
Wait, so Miss "Give Your Spellbook to the Museum" D2 Evie is here, sixish months before or whatever the timeline in, begging Mal to use magic to help her?
Why is Evie so shallow in this?
WHY IS SHE SO DITZY? Stop, Evie would know not to eat chemicals DX (Actually, I bet most Isle kids would know that)
WHAT IS BEN'S OUTFIT! None of that goes together. Bring his suit back. Or goodness gracious, why not a simple button down and slacks? Blue and black. What is this?
pffft, Ak's making up words
so Audrey also has a single dorm.
It took Jane FOURTEEN YEARS to realize she has magic? No, I refuse.
at least Audrey and Ben are still friends
Seriously, there is no timeline in this world
Sustainable urban planning. You know, for someone who wanted nothing to do with the Isle in D2, Evie sure is invested in making it a better place
"Thanks to my dad" *gasp* Is Ben throwing shade at his father
I'm sorry, I can not get behind Aurora's daughter afraid of some mud
The fact that Mal loves it is hilarious
I wonder when Evie finally donated her mirror
I know that a lot of people headcanon Freddie and Uma being sisters since China voiced Freddie, but tbh I think it would be interesting if they're cousins.
(Yes i like the hc, I just have Uma's dad as someone else and then came up with the cousins thing XD)
"retract your claws" "But I just had them sharpened!"
Seriously, yo mama battles?
So how old IS CJ? I'm guessing 13 or 14, but they almost imply she's around Mal's age... but unless she and Harry have different mom's that doesn't work.
Jordan, WHY are you doing a southern belle accent?
I want to see Beast's funny birthday dance
a two hour exam on SMILING?
so it definitely seems canon that the VKs were dragged online, and always end up on there even if they had no clue their pictures were being taken. Could factor into Mal's D2 transformation and breakdown
are we SURE this is the same Lonnie in the movies?
The fact that the Auradon Girls are singing "Good is the New Bad"
so whatever happened with this whole cheerleading thing for Evie and Mal
That doesn't sound like Jay either!
"You lied to keep him from bugging you" I like this Ben
But Evie WASN'T AROUND WHEN YOU WERE KIDS
HOW does Carlos speak dog? This makes no sense
the fact that Audrey is hanging out in Evie and Mal's room
I am getting fed up with all the made up words
I wonder how many people just randomly brush Ruby's hair
"I want to go from the one who lost the crown to the one who won!" Highly doubt that was intended to be D3 foreshadowing, but it makes good foreshadowing
The fact that they are fighting over the color of purple Mal wears
And here's Jane, accusing Mal of stealing
The fact that everyone keeps accusing Mal of things. Seriously, no wonder the poor girl thought she had to change her appearance and herself to the point of breaking down
but why didn't she TALK TO BEN
Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if Jay still struggles with stealing sometimes. Same for even Aladdin and Eugene.
Mal being so supportive of Jane is adorable
The fact that Jane is still suspicious of the VK's
They're accusing her of KIDNAPPING her own BOYFRIEND
and WHERE IS THE SECURITY?! THE HIGH KING IS THERE! AND OTHER ROYAL CHILDREN
#thisisnotmyLonnie
CJ liking Mal is interesting considering how Harry feels about her.
#again#I know its a show#i just poke fun#there is still no excuse for bad characterization#or Ben's outfits#disney descendants#descendants
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can you Write a scenario in demon slayer on how each character would react if y/n had the ability to use her rare blood type to fully turn anyone back to human. How would each hashira react in this situation at the hashira meeting by ubuyashiki. And what would be there plans be for her? This is also including muzan as at some point a demon will report of this new finding.
Alright! This is the first kind of ask I've received like this. I'm not sure how well it's going to go, lol, but I'm going to do my best! Thanks for asking and I hope you like it! (I haven't written for them in a while so please lmk what you think)
Rating: T
Pairings: None (mention of canon pairings)
Warnings: Death threats (from Muzan), slight swearing. Suggested consensual experimentation? Unbeta'd
Also, there are references to canon backstories but no major details
Before the Meeting:
You stand to the side, waiting.
You hadn’t entirely planned for your ability to be revealed, you didn’t even know it existed until the attack, but after the demon and its sudden and confusing transformation, you couldn’t ignore what happened. You couldn’t ignore that they needed help.
One of the demon slayers who found you in the aftermath brought you to meet the Ubuyashiki family and the leader of the Slayers. In that meeting, you learned everything and he reveals to you that you had the potential to change the world in their favour. As terrifying as it is, you could save people. The Ubuyashiki’s look at you as if you’re a saviour. Honestly? You have no clue what you’re doing.
That doesn’t stop him from calling a meeting of the Hashira, the strongest slayers of their time. If anyone is going to help you achieve this new goal of theirs, it’s them. So you wait, trying not to fidget in your nervousness as you feel their gazes on you before Ubuyashiki arrives.
The Reactions:
Sanemi
It’s strange for them to be called this soon and he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You’re a stranger and despite knowing you could only be here with permission. He doesn’t trust it but he waits. He’ll hear it from the master himself.
You’re introduced and honestly? He’s confused. It’s not possible. It shouldn’t be possible and if it was anyone except the Master, he wouldn’t believe it. He still doesn’t believe it.
“Not that I am doubting you, Master,” he calls out. “But you can’t expect us to believe this without proof.”
“Of course, I wouldn’t, my children, but I do ask that you trust me. Their abilities have been seen by multiple slayers in the incident it was revealed.”
“Tch,” he mutters but he nods.
It’s fine. He’ll keep an eye on them. Maybe if their blood actually works, they can get rid of Muzan and Genya will finally be fucking safe.
Shinobu
Shinobu is aware of the stranger but isn’t concerned. You wouldn’t be here unless you served a purpose and when you’re finally introduced, she’s fascinated.
There’s never been a recorded case of someone with the ability to transform a demon into a human, the complete opposite of Muzan and his creatures' abilities. It’s fascinating and the first thing she’s going to do once this meeting is over is make sure you return with her to the Butterfly Mansion. She needs to compare your blood to a regular human's and see if there is any difference. There has to be a way to measure the ability.
She wonders if Wisteria would have any effect on you and she’s already calculating the tests she can do. As Master Ubuyashiki replies to Sanemi, it occurs to her…could your blood help him? Could it stop the illness or remove it completely? She needs to look into this.
Tengen
“How flashy!”
Tengen has never heard of anything like your ability in his life, but he can’t wait to see it in action. He knows it’s bound to be spectacular. He can hear the way your heartbeat increases the longer you stand there under their speculative gazes and he offers his compliments in order to help ease the stress. It doesn’t seem to work but you nod back to him and smile. Rengoku’s additional praise seems to fluster you further under the attention. Tengen just laughs and tells his friend that the end might actually be in sight.
He knows he’s not wrong. It would be an incredible thing to see and if it’s true, they need to keep you safe. Shinobu will likely figure out some plan to use your ability without putting you in danger and if they can completely eradicate the demons? It’ll be a flamboyant end. Perhaps then he can keep Hinata’s promise and get the chance to live with his wives in peace. The way they deserve.
Kyojuro
It’s unusual for a Hashira meeting to be called so soon. He can admit that his curiosity is piqued at your presence but he can wait until it’s satisfied. Whatever he was expecting, it is not the news that their master presented. An ability to transform a demon back into a human? It seems impossible but if that master agrees, he can only imagine the possibilities. The idea that Senjuro may not feel the need to follow him into this danger is enough to fuel his desire for this to be the truth.
He is unashamed as he gazes at you, taking in your countenance and stance. You’re untrained. He can see it as clearly as he sees the determination in your eyes. It’s admirable. The path ahead of you will be dangerous but you are a spark of hope that he can fan into a blaze. You’re untrained but not for long. He’ll ensure you have the skill to survive. Whatever it takes.
Giyuu
It seems like a dream when Master Ubuyashiki informs them of the reason for your presence. He’s not sure what’s more surprising. The news of your ability or the relief that sets in his chest at the fact that you can turn Nezuko back and save him and Master Urookodaki from needing to fulfill their promise. He doesn’t regret the choice he made but he wants to keep his Master from needing to keep it.
He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and wonders how you came to be here. Who did you lose to find out you were capable of such things? Did you hold the same guilt he has about being too late? He hopes not. It may seem like a cruel thing for the world to give you this, but the potential is worth it. It has to be. He’ll help as much as he can.
Muichiro
Muichiro is listening. He is. But he can’t help his thoughts from wandering as he processes the news. Were you like a demon? It sounds like a blood demon art but you’re standing in the sun so it can’t be that. Maybe something else? What else could do that? His gaze wanders to the clouds as he thinks. One of them looks like a rice ball. Or…a cat?
The Master called them here because of you but you haven’t spoken. He’s not sure if it’s true or not but if that master says it is, it is. He can trust that.
He continues listening, even as he decides that the cloud is more of a frog now.
Obanai
His eyes narrow as he watches you. It seems convenient that you’ve emerged now. First the demon in a box and now this. It’s suspicious in his opinion. Still, he won’t go against Master Ubuyashiki’s orders. If he believes you can help, then Obanai will wait and see. He doesn't believe it, not until he sees it for himself, but he’ll let you be.
That doesn’t mean that he won’t keep an eye on you though. He doesn’t trust you, no matter what the Master says. You’re a stranger and he wouldn’t be surprised if this was some elaborate trap. He knows you can’t always trust humans, even when you want to. So he’ll wait and he’ll make sure you don’t get the chance to spring the trap. He’ll keep his comrades safe. Especially Mitsuri. He already knows that she’s dying to meet you properly. He’ll be right there with her when she does. Just in case.
Mitsuri
The news is a surprise, but Mitsuri can’t help but be excited! This was the best thing she’s heard. She loves being a demon slayer, and she loves her friends that she’s made but this could change everything! People would be saved! It’s the best thing she’s heard at one of these meetings, even with the last one where she met the adorable Tanjiro and his sister. The fact that you want to help? It’s wonderful.
You look a little scared though and it’s enough to make her want to reach out and comfort you. It must be intimidating to be faced with them, even if Mitsuri knows they’re not scary. Not really. Still, she makes up her mind quickly. She’s going to properly introduce herself after the meeting. She’ll even drag Obanai with her. The three of you will be great friends, she just knows it!
Gyomei
He murmurs prayers at the news. It’s fantastic but his heart can’t help but mourn for the tragedy you must have faced in your discovery. His eyes fill with tears that don’t hesitate to fall. It must have terrified you and to think, you have a bright soul that has still made the choice to help others. It’s commendable. It is tragic. And yet, he feels only hope as you are discussed.
He doesn't know how it’s possible, but he prays and gives his thanks that they’ve found you. That they are given this chance to protect you as you help them save people. It is a worthwhile effort and one that he will not waste. He could not save the children under his protection and he holds no grudge against the choices that were made, but he will do better now. He will help you reach your potential and save all that you can.
Plus!
Muzan
When Muzan hears the news of you, he laughs. It cannot be real. There are none but him who can change a being into another. And yet…he feels the disconnection. He knows that he is losing demons as fast as he can replace them. It’s strange. They’re not dead, but they are gone.
There are no recorded incidents about being able to turn demons into humans, but Muazn isn’t stupid. There were none that did the opposite before him. He sets out his demands, giving the orders to his Upper Moons. Bring you to him. He wants to see if it’s true and if it is? Well, he wants to see what else you’re capable of. Maybe you can do more. If your blood can turn a demon into a human, could a diluted form give him the ability to walk in the sun like he wants? Think of the possibilities.
And if not? He’ll satisfy his curiosity and make sure to kill you himself.
demon slayer taglist: @renhoeku
#hashira reactions#hashira x reader#demon slayer fic#kimetsu no yaiba fic#requests#meekermoo#asks#demon slayer
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hello i am here to remind you that lan wangji did not wait for wei wuxian for 13/16 years because wei wuxian died. (now with edits!)
people don't come back from death! what happened to wei wuxian was the first time it had ever happened and probably the only time i would happen (at least in a long time) because the riutal can only be done under certain conditions, i.e. someone has to be willing to sacrifice themself, you have to call a spirit that is vicious enough etc. and most importantly, lan wangji had no idea about any of it being a possibility! [edit: only four people had used to ritual before mo xuanyu - so my point still stands i just forgot that detail - source: "only three or four examples [of using the sacrificial ritual] have been proven to be true" novel chapter 2]
lan wangji did not wait because waiting implies that he knew wei wuxian would come back, which he didn't because he died. he spent those 13/16 years mouring and taking care of lan sizhui, the only connection he still has with wei wuxian. he spent those years preparing to spend the rest of his life in mourning and wearing white mourning robes!
he played inquiry [edit: lan wangji does this in the donghua, consider that canon or fanon] to try to talk to wei wuxian but lan wangji's cultivation and skill with the qin language is so powerful that spirits he calls must answer him truthfully! so when he'd call for wei wuxian and get no answer: that was his proof that he had died. then he would ask other spirits if they knew what happened to wei wuxian, where he was, how he was etc. none of them knew anything about wei wuxian. [edit: spirits cannot lie to lwj when he uses inquiry (as seen in chapter 22: "Under his
[lwj's] control, the spirit who came was unable to lie, and had definitely been
answering the truth.") and lsz reveals that some people have the power to ensure spirits must answer in chapter 37: "the spirit that i summon will be able to avoid answering, but will not be able to lie. so, if it is willing to answer, then it will definitely speak the truth." this doesn't exactly mean that lwj has this skill but when speaking with jin ling, it says that lwj has mastered qin language in chapter 22: "As he mastered the language, without any hesitation, Lan WangJi
confidently played a few limpid notes."]
because wei wuxian hasn't born to a sect, he didn't go through the rituals to make sure his spirit would reincarnate so when he died he turned into a spirit but because even his spirit was torn apart by ghosts and demons he was unable to do anything. [edit: i worded this weirdly - i was trying to say that the ritual prevented people from becoming ghosts and that wwx didn't have this ritual because he was the son of a servant and wasn't raised in a sect. this is mentioned in chapter 60: "disciples of famous
clans, like Jiang FengMian and Yu ZiYuan, had been affected by their clan
and their clan’s treasures since they were young. When they grew up,
they’d receive countless soul-calming ceremonies so that there was only a
miniscule chance of them becoming ferocious ghosts. But Wei WuXian was
different. He was the son of a servant. He didn’t grow up in the Jiang Sect
since birth, either. He didn’t have the chance to go through so many
ceremonies. If after he really died with too much resentful energy and
became a ferocious ghost to haunt them, it’d be quite a pain."] he spent those 13/16 years being fully unconscious and aware of what was happening but not having the power to do anything about it. he was in literal hell for 13/16 years! [edit: this you'll have to bare with me because i read it in a tweet and can no longer find it ;-; basically it stated what i said] so no spirits knew what happened to him and he couldn't answer to lan wangji's inquiry!
in conclusion, lan wangji did not wait!! [edit: it's still wrong to say that lwj waited for wwx even if i got stuff wrong lmao]
#it's a simple fact but i see so many people say lwj waiting for wwx on the daily and it's just /wrong/#lan wangji#mdzs lan wangji#cql#mdzs#the untamed#wei ying#wei wuxian#lan zhan#mo dao zu shi#mdzs wei wuxian#grandmaster of demonic cultivation#wangxian#starrywangxian#now with edits !
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Welcome to ANOTHER "Goat tries to write something small about void's rewrite but it turns into something terrifyingly long for no reason" post.
This is basically a fic talking about Kul'Zak (Modzilla) and Irene (Aphma)'s relationship, I am still gonna do the mini fic series going into MORE detail, but this thing....yeah
The divine are messy to say the least in my rewrite, but one of the messiest is Kul'Zak, which I will give small pre-needed context; in my rewrite world Kul'Zak does not (technically) have a decendent or reincarnation because Kul'Zak is still alive, he is actually Professor Modzilla from MMW/VP.
He was just a dimension hopping guy trying to have some fun only to hop into the Overworld (what I call the MCD dimension as it has no set canon name) during what is going to be one of the most turbulent times in their history for the next eon.
One day, some hunters from Scaleswind rush back into town, stating they had found an injured man in the woods, screaming and withering on the ground. They said he looked burnt, and badly. As if his body had been chared.
Being one of the sisters best versed in healing magicks, Irene had demanded they show her this man. It happened to be none other than Monty, but, at the time Irene was none the wiser to the man's name.
She had slammed healing spell after healing spell into the man, but none of them seemed to work, only seeming to for a small time alleviate the man's suffering.
At first, Monty had been, albeit weakly, fighting back the hunters and Irene, but for only a moment. Until he realized what the woman was trying to do. He couldn't stay fully still, but he tried to let her help him, the pain was just so much though.
He knew his face was badly burned, he couldn't open his left eye at all, it could be burned shut.
They had carried him back to the town, Irene scolding the men everytime Monty would groan or whine in pain.
He was placed in a room in the temple Irene was a sister to, mainly so Irene could try and look over him and help him heal.
Covering the burns didn't seem to help either. When wrapping a guaze over them, the bandaging stayed for a moment, before they burned and sizzled away into a purple mist of kinds.
Even though many of the other sisters told her they would be willing to take care of him every so often, as they did commonly take turns tending to the injured that resided in the temple, Irene had denined it, becoming somewhat fixated on figuring out who this man was and what was happening to him.
Monty had been in and out of consiousness for a few days, feverish and skittish anytime Irene tried to communicate to him.
Quite quickly it became obvious that there was a language barrier. Irene tried to make some kind of system, a series of taps for different things and needs Monty would have.
For a while, the sisters of the temple only refered to him as "The Stranger", which Irene didn't like. Everytime she had tried to ask the man his name, he would only look at her confused, which she put to his state of sickness and confusion.
So, Irene came up with a name for him. At least for the others to refer to him as, until she could get his real name out of him.
Now, she would not admit it to anyone else but Monty some time later, but naming him Kul'Zak was not entirely original from her mind. At the time, a romance novel had been getting quite popular, and one of the love intrests, Irene's personal favorite, was named Kul'Zak.
So when asked what his name was, Irene had rushed out that it was Kul'Zak. She was embarassed about it, and of course a few of the sisters she was closer with teased her over it, saying how convient his name was the same as her favorite fictional man.
After a few months, Kul'Zak had finally become more, aware. He had started to slowly piece some words together, out right asking Irene for water, in Ru'aunian, one day. Of course not fully asking, more so just saying "water" in a questioning tone. Irene had been admitingly very excited the first time he did, full on cheering.
She had been spending most her time with Kul'Zak, tending to the burn or more so researching it. Whether it be feeling how hot it was, as it seemed to generate it's own heat nearly 24/7, ot seeing what healing spells would affect it, if at all.
Thankfully, the burn was only on his face, and well a bit of his hand. It was more scattered on his hand, but he still seemed to express a discomfort with it, seething and pulling his hand away if she held it too hard or for too long.
After some time, they had sat down together and Irene tried to teach him Ru'aunian. He was picking it up quickly, but it was still a treck, especially because there was no way for Irene to figure out what his own language was.
When he was able to hold a conversation with her, she was estatic. She would take him outside the temple, walk around Scales Wind, and they would just, talk.
With this, she would learn his name was actually Monty, and when she asked if he'd loke her to tell others, he told her that it was fine. Kul'Zak fit their culture better, and with his status as a other-realmer, he'd rather not cause a rukus of any kind.
Their talks were about anything. Kul'Zak's life as a dimension explorer, Irene's life as a sister of their temple. Anything and everything.
She had asked him when he would be going back to his own dimension, and Kul'Zak only seethed, and said he couldn't go back, at least not for a while. The burns he was suffering from meant he shouldn't, not until he was finally healed. That coming here had put him in danger, and he was lucky he was still alive.
Void burns, is what he called them. One day, he had sat Irene down and went through the books he had held in his bag, that now Irene could finally understand with him translating to her.
Apparently, void burns were something anyone could suffer from, if they dimension hopped in an unsafe manner. And dimension exploring was still considered unsafe, but, he had wanted to do something big. To be one of the special members of his community to find a new dimension.
Irene had gotten him books upon books, journals, theological texts, mythology and folk lore, and even blank journals for him to write in. She loved watching him read, taking notes and writing what he called official dimensional writings.
Not many Irene believers knew of her life before her stint as a hero, hell 90% of books barley ever mentioned her life as a sisster of a now forfotten temple for a god no long known in Ru'aun. Because of this, people also never saw the relationship between Irene and Kul'Zak.
After some years, the two became much closer, Irene only really leaving Scales Wind after a time to accompany Kul'Zak on his adventure of exploring the realm.
The two had been deeply in love, yet according to the texts written of them years later, they were barley even more than just fellow Divine.
When she had decided to finally lay to rest, she entrusted half her relic to Kul'Zak, asking him to shatter it and spread it across the realms, to take her with him on those realm discovery adventures he had told her all about.
Modzilla was never truly a religous man. Ironic for a man that was basically a god. His adoration for Aphmau made him sick. She wasn't Irene, he felt like it would be overstepping to put himself in her life. Even though it's what Irene had asked of him.
He knew Irene, in her later years, had regretted acending to what they had become. He wanted Aphmau to be as normal as she could be.
When she put herself into his life though, even when he thought he had ran far enough away, he didn't know what to do. Especially when Tommy started to adore her, to see her as a mother.
Modzilla was, embarassed and ashamed of how much he had cried that night. He was admitingly cold to her at first. Only 'tolerating' her for Tommy's sake.
She became his lab partner, exploring dimensions for him when he was too sick or weak feeling to. Or tired. She paid attention to his health, so meticulously. It made him want to hurl. He kept telling himself she's not Irene, don't associate her with her.
After all nighters he would wake up with blankets over his shoulders, cups of hot coffee set out for him, even breakfast or lunch on a good day.
One morning, he woke up to a very special breakfast. A dish he had learned of his first few years in Ru'aun, that Irene had adored. Aphmau had told him she found it in one of those cook books, and that it was so well cared for so she assumed he liked it.
He wanted to cry over it, but he had just sighed and asked Aphmau to leave, that they weren't doing any tests today. A few hours later that day, Tommy had come to Aphmau's house and said his father had locked himself in his study and wouldn't be coming out, so he wanted to sleep at her's for the night.
On his bad days, Modzilla would lock himself in his study for, days, maybe even weeks depending how much of a spiral he would go down, where he would read and reread all the journals he had wrote decades ago.
During one of these spirals, he had left his study to go for a walk of sorts, and during that, Aphmau had snuck into his study and went through said journals strewn across the room.
She had been slack jawed at the whole journals full of passages of love, the descriptions of a woman named Irene. The name seemed to strike something in her in a way she couldn't explain.
Some of the pages had drawings of this woman instead of writing. She was, beautiful. Aphmau toom a moment, looking at this woman, till she realized she looked like her. Albeit a little different. Her hair was longer, she wore a hair covering that was longer than the more tied up one Aphmau wore, her clothing in most of the drawings was flowey and white.
Aphmau recalled pictures Modzilla had shared of Polly, she had a similar head covering and flowy clothing, but Polly was white and had blond hair. Irene, as she could see, had tanned skin and black hair. Plus, there were no photos of her, just drawings, some messily colored with dyes and patterned with stamped in flowers.
The journals were so well cared for. More so than the other books and texts Modzilla had in his library section. Aphmau started to feel, bad for looking at this without his permission.
When she intended to leave, she turned and was startled by Modzilla standing in the doorway, eyes locked on the journal she had in her hands. She didn't plan on taking it with her, she just hadn't put it down yet.
Modzilla looked, tired and sick, plus uncomfortable with the new information that Aphmau had been reading his journals.
The conversation was, like walking on eggshells. She asked about Irene, who the woman was, that if Modzilla was so infactuated by her, why was he married to Polly, a woman who seemed so close to this Irene figure.
Modzilla had shakily explained that him and Polly weren't married for love. They were very good friends, but it was common for his kind to not marry for love most the time. He told her about Irene. How happy they were together before their time as divine, explaining to her how Irene had asked to be reincarnated outside the realm she was born of, how Aphmau was one of those.
Then, he broke down. He sobbed and apologized to her, that he wanted her to go her whole life without knowing about it. That he thought that's what Irene would have wanted; to live a life of normalcy, save for the dimension exploring.
She knew now why Monty had become so choked up and emotional when she would try and take care of him when he was sick or tired. That she was unknowingly reminding him of the first times he ever met the woman he would come to love for the rest of his immortal life.
Aphmau wasn't all that young herself, she was already over 100 years old, but, most the time she chose not to disclose that to others. She herself had been overly puzzled by her lack of memories of a childhood, now knowing she never had one in the first place, but then even more confused by her not aging, and living so long already. She knew now why. Monty was obviously still older than her, and she would not be stopping the teasing of him for it.
She came to enjoy the dimension exploring just a little bit more. Sometimes she would find herself talking to no one, as if she was talking to 'Irene', even though she technically was Irene. Unbeknownst to her, she was one of the few Aphmau's to accept the idea so easily and fully. Knowing that she was living a life a her from before craved made her more happy for what Irene had done to give it to her.
Her and Monty's relationship had changed after what she learned. They seemed to flow better now, Monty having put down the wall he had built so long ago, at least a little bit.
When they had finally found Monty's home realm again, Aphmau had cheered for him, so excited he could finally go home. He was happy too, but bitter sweet about it. They hugged, and Aphmau gave him a kiss, which had stunned Monty in his place, face burning red and stuttering.
Aphmau promised to keep Tommy safe, and told Monty that he had to find a way to visit sometime.
Monty left Tommy in the care of Aphmau. He knew she would take care of him better than he ever could.
If fate wasn't so cruel, they could have a redo, but Monty knew that that was a pipe dream.
The void still called, it hungered, and Monty, Kul'Zak, Modzilla, whoever he was, he was going to do everything in his power to keep that thing at bay, to keep the realms safe, and if it meant being burned by it time and time again, he knew he had at least someone he would go to that would be his boulder to rest with. Just like she had all those eons ago.
#aphblr#aphmau minecraft diaries#aphmau mcd#minecraft diaries#aphmau rewrite#aphmau redesign#mcd rewrite#minecraft diaries rewrite#aphmau modzilla#aphmau mod mod world#aphmau vp#professor modzilla#mod mod world#modzilla#aphmau tommy#tommy mmw#tommy vp#irene the matron#aphmau irene#irene mcd#aphmau kul'zak#kul'zak the wanderer#kul'zak#long post#i don't know how long this is but oh my god
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Mama Isa
I was rereading the first few chapters of Mama Isa on AO3, and it really made me think about the way both Isabella and Alma view themselves and their actions, they both do things "for their family" Isabella takes her kids and leaves so they wouldn't be mistreated, and Alma considers her actions of pressuring the family and serving the community as ensuring that the miracle that protects them stays strong, they are both doing extreme things in order to protect their loved ones, the big difference is Alma didn't realize she was going overboard and actually hurting her family, while Isabella is very much aware of how hard leaving the Encanto was on the others and knows her actions, even if they were necessary, were extreme. It's really interesting to compare the two in this AU, I'd love to see a confrontation between just the two of them, where these similar motivations but different ideas and actions really clash, I would imagine it would go similarly to the argument Abuela had with Agustin in canon, "you need to come home Isabella, think of the family!" "I am! That's exactly why I took them and left! I was thinking of them and their happiness!"
YOU REREAD…I’M SOBBING…THANK YOU???? 😭
Anyway yes. Both definitely are extreme. But like you said, Isabela is fully aware. That’s actually why she said that if they really wanted to, they could stay (of course, Isabela still would’ve taken up the raising them role). She knows how much it can and will affect them, and that’s why she tries to be the best moral support, even years after the fact.
Alma actually does find out where they went. She has gone to them on three separate occasions, and each time it basically turned into a screaming match, all of which Isabela won. Alma believes she knows better, and that what she’s doing is right. She first tries to convince Isabela (and probably herself, let’s be real) that if they come home, it will be way better than the life that Isabela (and Dolores) has worked so hard to build for them.
—————
“Alma, you need to go home,” Isabela said, a cactus popping up as she seethed at Alma. Why she had come back, again, was baffling.
“Isabela, you need to come home. Your family misses you, you can’t keep doing this!” Alma pleaded, though her patience was wearing then. Isabela whipped around, her eyes boring into Alma.
“Doing what? Keeping my family safe? My actual family? Because as far as I’m concerned, they,” Isabela gestured to Casita, where she knew the rest of the family had been called to by Dolores, and probably Mariano. “Are my only family. You are no family of mine. The only abuela I have is Abuela Guzmán.”
Alma clenched her jaw, her eyes widening. This wasn’t the first time Isabela had argued with her, had done this whole thing. And it wouldn’t be the last, not until she got the magic and her family back. “Isabela, this whole life you’ve made up? It isn’t real! None of this is good for you, you are poisoning them-“
“Poisoning them? Seriously? You are the one who poisoned our minds for years. Because of my decision to take my family and leave. And this “life” is not made up! It is fpvery real, and whether you accept it or not, I’m not leaving, you aren’t taking anyone from me!” Isabela yelled, stomping her foot. T more cacti sprouted and tangled vines appeared. Townspeople we’re gathering, looking upon Alma with distaste, whispering about her.
“You need to come home, Isabela, think of the family!” Alma yelled back. She had to make Isabela see. See that she needed to come home.
“I am! That’s exactly why I took them and left! I was think of them and their happiness!” Isabela said, getting in Alma’ face. “Unlike you, I put my family before a stupid candle!”
—————
Oop 🤕 the beef is REAL
Random art lol
#my asks#my asks are open#encanto#encanto au#au#encanto alma#encanto isabela#encanto mirabel#encanto antonio#encanto luisa#encanto camilo#encanto dolores#encanto mariano#mama Isabela AU#mama Isa AU
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Little Nightmares unused 2017 comic content master post (WILL BE UPDATED)
Okay, so disclaimer/info: None of these have been "leaked" by me, nor are they leaks in the first place; I just found them because I'm a HUGE LN comic fan, and I cannot keep the silliness contained. They either came from posts/portfolios made by the original comic creators or official announcements (with a few exceptions.) All of these are real. Obviously, don't take my word for it, but all of these have come from official sources that can be found online (if you want me to, I can prove it). Also, I know I might get people asking me about this/asking me to add it, but the supposed "leaked" comic pages of the Runaway Kid and Six interacting are fake. As far as I'm aware, these were either made to push sevix as canon or to troll. Either way, they were presented as being real leaks. Any other leak posted by this person was, while convicting, faked. (I don't want to start drama, and this happened years ago, so obviously, I'm not going to mention who made these posts.) Also, I will be updating this post with new content once I find it. I am currently looking for a couple of early sketches I saw a while ago. LAST THING: not all of these are unused content. Some are unused covers that didn't make it into the display at the end of the comics or inked and uncolored versions of existing pages.
Taken from Aaron Alexovich's website. This is an alternate version of an existing panel. The North Wind seems to have shape-shifted itself or created the visage of a wolf to blow at the barn. This is probably a reference to The Three Little Pigs, which fits, considering that The Tale Of The North Wind has many references to the fairytale "The North Wind And The Sun" and some other stories that involve the north wind as a character. One other minor difference is that the crows, which are implied to be skeletons in the original panel, are shown to be fully skeletal. Looking at the original panel, it seems like this version came first. Not sure why it was changed.
This is an unused cover. I found it on the twitter of one of the people who worked on it.
This is an unused/alternate version of the hunchback girl destroying the music box. Found (If I remember correctly) on the colorist's ArtStation.
WIP version of an unused cover
This one is an alternate cover version, so not really unused. As far as I'm aware, they don't sell selling physical copies with this cover anymore, but they do exist. Also, this can be seen in the cover display on the last pages of the comics, so if you've read them you've probably seen this. Might be a bit of a copout but it feels right to add it hear for some reason
I wasn't sure if I was going to include this one because, honestly, I don't really know what's going on with this cover. While this cover is used, for some reason, the colors in this version are super warm. It might be a reprint error, but it may also be an issue on the side of whoever took the photo. This may be a specific issue with the physical version as well. Really not sure what's up. (original below for comparison)
Unused alternate page where Six hauls in the music box. Also found on the colorist's art station
This is also an alternate cover that was used. I put it in here because a lot of people haven't seen it, but it isn't necessarily unused content.
These two pages seem to go hand in hand. They were used on the steam announcement for the LN comics. The top page looks like two panels oddly edited together. The children in the top panel seem like an early scrapped design for the campfire kids. These two pages honestly feel more like promotional material/concept art or something because of the sketchiness and scrapped designs. I believe these were specifically created for the announcement. This is just my speculation, though.
All the photos below are uncolored, inked versions of pages from book 2. These were found on a deviant art page which seems to be owned by one of the artists involved, probably the inker. Nothing super out of the ordinary until we get to the last of these inked pages.
This is an alternate uncolored, and unused version of the mirror monster first appearing.
I hope you guys enjoy this post, and I do plan to update it when I find those sketches. (sorry if the grammar is a bit messed up I'm tired and a bit out of it)
ONE SKETCH HAS BEEN FOUND
I found this on my camera roll and if I’m remembering correctly it came from one of the artists’ twitter accounts or one of their Deviant Art accounts. (Because I can’t remember exactly where it came from, please take this one with a grain of salt.)
#little nightmares#little nightmares comics#the north wind#the mirror monster#the north wind little nightmares#the ferryman#the ferryman little nightmares
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How does it feel to be the cause of others shipping the poly trio? :3 (....I'm mostly meaning myself but i'm sure others have too XD) /lh
I have my own au just for the poly ship that is everyones favorite twink....the theatre bean and the grumpy starfish! (....i full well known none of that will make sense....................mostly the last one, idk why but it happened when I drew him....) and you are to blame for the au even existing! /silly /lh
Anywho, I really enjoy your artstyle, its really shapey and squishy and beautiful when you fully render things! ^-^ (not that your sketches arent also awesome looking :3) Be it the poly bean trio or them as the villanous trio or any of the other art! ^-^
Am I the cause??... I have a theory there was a group of people who had this ship in mind but they were to afraid to show it and they just needed someone to say it's fine. Like someone said it to me. And now we're just chilling with this trio fully aware they won't even become friends in canon. Well at least we're happy
I got carried away. Thank you, I'm really glad people like my artstyle :D It changed so much thanks to this fandom xd
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Honestly with the way the Goethals act in general it could be safe to say most of them go down the line of “Anyone I perceive as lower than me I treat like shit” with a few accepting members like Stolas
But speaking of Stolas, if you feel more comfortable going off of what is canon, then maybe the idea could spin off of him? We know him to be respectful and to have enough pull to get meetings with a Sin so it wouldn’t be too far off to say Ozzy asked Stolas to check out the hotel to sponsor it. Maybe during introductions he only bows to Lucifer, the Sins, and Vox and everyone is confused?
Just spitballing with the other anons idea! Whatever you go with will be amazing regardless!
Also just a small question cause I’m curious of what you have planned but how many prompts are you planning on writing/is in your Que? I have like a shit ton of prompts in my inbox and need filtering advice if you’re willing 😭
I am the goddess of fucking around and finding out
I don't mind canon or going off canon. My Alastor and Vox are very ooc after all, but I know the fandom tends to hold Helluva Boss in a higher standard. I never really liked it that much. I've watched it- but I'm Striker. Why does everything gotta be a sex thing? The two season finales were my favourite of Helluva Boss, which ironically included little to no Stolas
I could definitely see Stella and her brother treating the sinners and overlords are faith on their shoes while Stolas and Octavia hold the sins and Vox in higher regard
Ozzie would definitely be pulling the strings to get Stolas to visit the Hazbin Hotel if I go that route.
I like working off of your guy's ideas. It's very fun and helps me world build 🙏
~~~~~~
Ahahaha my ask box is also full of different prompts. I have omega-verse, the Vee's joining the battle, and injured Alastor are three I can name off the top of my head (because I'm writing them right now) but I think I have like 10 or 11 in there. One is also a beauty and the beast ay which I'm mulling over
As for how I filter them out- prompts are things I want to be able to enjoy writing. Some of my prompts have been quite large- and while I don't mind the large ones, it gives me a lot less freedom with them because I feel like I have to rewrite a whole story that was just in the my box. I never deleted any, though. I just put them in their in tag just in case I feel like writing them later- but ones I am writing right now/want to write sit in my box so I can shuffle through them. It keeps it organized
I haven't encountered any rude people yet- so I haven't had to reject anyone for demanding things from me (which like I'm always ready for a debate on the internet, I find them funny) and with how nice everyone is, I usually feel bad for denying them. It's way I take so long to deny people. I want to make sure this is actually something I don't plan on writing in the near future
My way to filter out prompts is
- I need creative freedom to write so I don't feel miserable writing. This is one of the main ones. My brain is very hectic and I find myself tapping out if I can't bring my own ideas to the table. It's also why none of my works are exactly like the prompts im given
- I have enough context to write a fic on it
- I would actually enjoy writing it
- it's a world/au I'm aware of or contributed to. Nothing is worse than being handed a fully built universe and being asked to write for it with little to no explanation on how the universe works
- the people are nice to me.
- I know I make a few jokes here and there, but I like to keep in mind that I'm making free work for people. I'm not being paid to do this, and people aren't paying me to write out the prompts. I love writing fanfiction and it's a great hobby, but if you're genuinely just not interested in doing something- you don't have too. Writing it meant to be fun and inspiration is a fickle thing. You don't want to push it too hard or it's going to shove back. I've learnt that the hard way
- bonus way to do it- sometimes people leave comments, and I find them funny, and I get creative with them. I censored a whole chapter of month in rut because someone told me to let the characters swear. I'm also a very petty person
This is just personal, but I keep my prompts 1k-3.5k words just so it's decently sized, but not overly large
Hope this helps!
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Heyo! I saw you had requests open, if you are up to it, could you write a lil headcanon of James Bonde just playing with his girlfriends hair? (And if I can be specific maybe short boyish hair, but if not I completely understand)
Anyways thank you! <3
Relaxing -James Bonde x GN Reader-
———
!! Fluff !!
Gender Neutral reader
!! TW !! : None that I am aware of
Romantic relationship
———
Word count: 689 words
A/n: I decided to fulfill the specific hairstyle but also include longer too in the head canons. I hope it’s okay and you can forgive me if I remove pronouns and make it gender neutral, I believe it doesn’t make too much of a difference. I also felt like adding a little extra writing since the head canons are relatively brief and limited
———
Head canons:
James would love playing around with your hair whenever he has the chance
He adores your hair so much no matter if it is straight, wavy or curly
Sometimes the two of you would just sit down and relax, with James running his fingers through your hair
James would run his smooth and slender fingers extremely soft and affectionately through the strands of your hair
Very careful not to be the cause of any discomfort or pain on you
For short length hair: James would brush his fingers gently through your hair, moving it around and occasionally planting a few braids before letting go of it and watching the braids fall out of shape
For medium or long length hair: James would run his fingers delicately through your hair, brushing all the way through it before playing around with the shape
The sensation is extremely calming
He can never quite get enough of your soft hair passing by his fingertips
James would stop a couple time and give you a quick peck on the lips or cheek
Unconsciously, James' lips would curve into a smile and his eyes would soften, clearly enjoying it dearly
You would not catch his sweet little smile since he would primarily occupy the space behind you when playing with your hair
When you feel tired or stressed James would try to help in any way he can
After a long day James would give you a simple but effective scalp massage
He would definitely tie your hair in all sorts of fancy ways using appealing hair ties and numerous accessories when feeling additionally playful
You were sitting on a chair, enjoying a nice and warm cup filled with coffee while examining a recent newspaper. Your gaze shifted from the dusty newspaper to your boyfriend, James, as he entered the room. He made his way in an average speed towards you, pulling out a chair to sit beside you as he focused his attention on the newspaper too.
“Anything interesting?” James asked. Your reply was honest, “Not really.” After all it’s not often that a intriguing matter appears in the papers. Without a warning, James pulled you close to him, holding you in an embrace as he rests his head on your shoulder as he peers down at the newspaper.
After a short period of time, James became bored, losing interest in the paper. He leans back and the first thing that is able to catch his eye is your hair. He extends his delicate hands and run them through your hair. You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You really wish to make use of every opportunity you get to touch my hair, don’t you?”
“I do quite love it.” James replies, the corner of his lips curling to a smile, clearly enjoying it. The newspaper resting on the table is long forgotten by now, the only thing occupying your mind being your cute boyfriend. Neither of you begin another conversation, but it is not awkward. In fact, it’s quite the contrary, the two of you enjoy the moment of peace, appreciating the other’s company.
James brushes his comforting fingers through your soft hair, slightly pulling gently at your strands in an attempt to form a small ponytail. The sensation of James’ digits running through your hair is exceedingly relaxing, you are fully convinced you could most definitely fall asleep at his touch. James shifts his body to move his face closer to yours, giving you a quick peck on the lips that show his affection even further.
He then continues playing with your hair, currently forming a short lengthened braid on the left side of your head. “I don’t happen to be inflicting pain by doing this right?” James questions genuinely. You shake your head, letting out a sigh, a sigh that represents relaxation. His attention is fully on how your strands of hair fall from his fingers as he rakes them through it.
“Have I told you how much I adore you and your hair?” James questioned with a soft smile. You laugh, turning your head to kiss James once more.
———
-yyutsuu on Tumblr and Wattpad-
!! Please refrain from reposting my work without permission !!
#moriarty the patriot#mtp x reader#mtp x you#ynm#yukoku no moriarty#yuukoku no moriarty#yuumori#moriarty the patriot x reader#yuumori james bonde#moriarty the patriot james bonde#yuukuko no moriarty#james bonde#james bonde x reader#x reader#imagine#fluff#headcanon#mtp james x reader#mtp james bonde x reader#james bonde x you#comfort
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you know that what if show marvel has? i am the only one who wants a what if show but with dc characters, espically one spefic to young justice. There are some many possiblities with with a what if young justice alone. what if instead of virgil being the only one who joins the team at the end of season 2 he's the only runaway who doesn't? what if tye got the beatle instead of jaime? What if bart died instead of wally? endless possibitles
I find the contemplation of what if scenarios so fascinating to think about - it's the whole reason I named this blog as I did - because I’m fully aware that none of the things I say on here will ever canonically happen but it’s still fun to think about what if they did… Like you said anon, endless possibilities! I love this idea of yours - a yj specific what if series would be so cool to see - two that always pop into my mind whenever I watch Illusions of Control are…
What if it was the cotton candy that had been poisoned and Ed was the only one left standing…?
What if Bart and Ed never made it out of that boom tube during the fight against onslaught…?
Or a cheeky third one… what if the higher ups had allowed Bart and Ed’s relationship to be canon onscreen the way we know it’s supposed to be!?! Oh, the possibilities of what could have been!! 😩 Nope, nope - we’re not going down this rabbit hole again… I do apologise if you’re not interested in Bart/Ed ramblings - they own my soul and usually find a way of being brought into the conversation… :)
ANYWAY, back to your what ifs… I am very much intrigued by the one where Tye gets the scarab instead of Jaime… that would be such an interesting scenario to explore…
Mainly because with Jaime, he was always able to be the voice of reason and ensure scarabs violent suggestions were never acted upon… however, with Tye, I don’t think that would be as definite a case… unlike Jaime, who has been surrounded by a loving, supportive family he’s whole life, Tye has had to endure living within a very toxic and abusive home environment, left feeling powerless and under constant threat because of Maurice’s dominance. That difference in experience creates a very different perspective when it comes to whether one should or should not do something in the name of defence… not to say Tye would go full on villain mode if he possessed the power of the scarab, but put him in front of Maurice with all that power and I don’t think he’d be as dismissive of scarabs suggestion of “defence” as Jaime was when he went up against the jerk.
Ngl… I’m a little bit obsessed with this idea now - thank you so much for sharing anon!
LB
#thanks anon!#ask box#my response#young justice#yj#what if#my random thoughts#tye longshadow#jaime reyes#blue beetle#eduardo dorado jr#bart allen
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stay to burn (only to drown instead): chapter seven: enigmatology [part I]
masterpost | ao3 link
jonathan crane x reader; bruce wayne x reader; edward nashton x reader | warnings: canon typical violence, sexual content | word count: 5969 words
DISCLAIMER: these chapters are not meant to be read alone. not every chapter has content for one of the three pairings listed. this is an ongoing fanfiction that I am cross-posting here on tumblr, not a series of one-shots.
chapter one |previous part
You stared at the words in your textbook, the information on the burning of Richmond in 1865 not absorbing into your brain. Of course it wasn’t, the ambience of Arkham Asylum wasn’t exactly conducive to good studying. Someone was yelling in the distance, screaming nonsense in rhymes. You sighed, closing your book. Tetch was clearly agitated and you’re pretty sure you knew the reason why.
At that moment, Jonathan rounded the corner, a file folder tucked under his arm. Despite his previous patient’s obvious distress, he didn’t seem to be frazzled at all. You supposed his inability to be shaken up was why he was a good psychiatrist for the asylum. Even if it was unnerving at times.
“Do you purposely antagonize your patients?” You placed the book aside, standing up behind your desk as he entered the small room that led to his and another of the doctor’s offices. You had only met the other doctor, a physician named Dr. Karlsson, briefly but had quickly decided that she was much nicer than any of the other doctors or nurses you’d met. But she was rarely in her office when you were in the asylum, too busy attending to her patients, making sure they were getting the care they needed. It was more than any of the other doctors seemed to do.
“Not on purpose, no.”
“I see.” You smiled, even though you knew that his disinterest should unnerve you. But you couldn’t help the small smile that crossed your lips whenever you saw him.
You’d been at Arkham for little over two weeks, working an average of twenty hours per week. That, combined with the bi-weekly stipend you got from your TA position, was enough to hold you over, to pay your rent and get groceries with little left for anything else. When the semester was over, you told Jonathan, you would move to working full-time. Just for the summer, and just so you could save up some money in case everything went to shit again.
But better than the improved pay or the steady hours (with none at night, either) was being able to continue working closely with Jonathan. You didn’t have to worry anymore about what would happen when the semester was over and you were no longer his teaching assistant, if your relationship would fizzle out without it. You could continue to smile at him everyday and long for the day when he would return it with his own.
You were well aware that your feelings for him were slowly morphing into something else. You'd spent too many nights alone and unable to sleep because all you could think about was Jonathan Crane- his eyes, his touch, his ability to make you feel like it was just the two of you who mattered in the world. Your thoughts lingered on how, to everyone else, he was a cold professional but to you he was everything. You saw brief glimpses of kindness from him, in the way he always got you coffee or whispered words of pure desire against your skin late at night. Even though he was still cold with you, you couldn’t help but hope that he was slowly melting for you.
You resisted naming the emotion coursing through your veins though, or even fully, truly admitting it to yourself. The moment you let the words I love him enter your mind was the moment that everything would come crashing down around you. You were certain of it.
Because when you started to let yourself think about telling him that, you were gripped with the sudden fear that he didn’t reciprocate. (Because of course he didn’t). That he would laugh at you, or worse be disgusted. (Because of course he would). You were afraid of being branded a fool for reading far too into what could just be a casual fling for him. (Because of course you were).
Besides, you weren’t even sure that’s what you were feeling. You’d never been with someone like this, in a relationship that you had no idea how to define. And more than that, how do you define a relationship where half the time you felt like you were blindfolded, being led deeper into a tunnel where you didn’t know the end? That he was constantly siphoning information from you and giving little in return?
And what do you call it when you’ve started to like it? When you can see everything that should make you run but it instead makes you creep closer because some part of you needs to know what happens next?
“Papers?” You cleared your throat, holding out a hand for the folder. You accepted Tetch’s file as he handed it to you, a thick thing that was bulging with post-its and other scraps of paper. You peeked into it before shutting it again, putting it down on the desk gently so as to not disrupt the papers inside.
“This-” You gestured to the folder, “is very disorganized.”
The same could be said for each and every patient at Arkham’s folder and it was clear that the turnover rate of psychiatrists was high due to the variation in handwriting and note-taking styles present in each one.
“The whole asylum is.”
“Why don’t you try to fix it?”
“I’m just a doctor.”
You sighed. You knew that Jonathan held more sway at the hospital than he liked to admit, for whatever reason. But you weren’t going to press it, instead dragging the folder across your desk closer to you.
“I can try to digitize-”
Jonathan brushed past your desk, interrupting your quiet question as papers ruffled in the breeze he created. A stray post-it note flew out from the file, landing on the floor. You bent down to pick it up, only for Jonathan’s pale hand to beat you to it. He snatched the note up, looking at it briefly before crushing it in his fist, the faded yellow folding into a small ball.
Seeing your curious gaze, he shrugged.
“It was unimportant.” He tossed the ball in your waste-basket, the soft sound of it hitting the plastic bag inside following the end of his statement. You drum your fingers on the top of Tetch’s file.
“Can I at least organize the file before I give it back to you?”
Jonathan pursed his lips slightly, clearly thinking about it.
“What else are you doing today?”
“Nothing. Well, unless you need something.” You kept your voice even, void of innuendo.
“That’s fine.” He paused, turning back to you from the doorway of his office. “And I‘ll think about letting you digitize them.”
Surprised but not displeased by his decision, you nodded enthusiastically even though you knew that he wasn’t able to see, the door already clicking closed behind him. Sitting back at your desk, you opened Tetch’s file again, taking a deeper look at his information. Taking a sip of the coffee that Jonathan had gotten you- which was, again, not your usual order but he seemed determined to push you to try new things by getting you a different order every time- you pushed down the nerves that hovered around the back of your mind. You had work to do and didn’t have time to waste by focusing on your unprompted anxiety.
It was probably just a side effect of working here, nothing else.
You stared up at the chalk menu of the small cafe, mulling over their iced seasonal offerings before ultimately deciding to go with the safe option. Ordering was quick, the barista clearly experienced and well-into his shift, moving with practiced ease behind the counter as he rang you up and began to prepare your order. Stepping back from the register, you observed as he made your drink. Briefly, you turned to look behind you at your table, at your friend.
Marie sat at a booth, concentrating on something on her phone. Her own tea was already half-empty as she had arrived at the cafe ahead of you, ordering well before you’d arrived. She looked essentially the same as when you’d seen her last, her dark hair in twin braids down her back, wearing a practical yet fashionable outfit that painted her as a responsible and matured college senior. In comparison to your outfit- comfortable pants and an oversized t-shirt- that told the world you were too stressed out or tired to care about your outward appearance. Which was correct, but you couldn’t help but feel lesser than when you looked at her, like you were behind in a race you didn’t know you were running.
The barista called your name, and on your way back to your seat you took a sip of your coffee, your usual order that you hadn’t tasted in weeks since Jonathan was always getting you your coffee now. You wove through the tables crowding the small cafe, doing your best to get back to your seat without spilling or knocking into anything. When you reached your table, you slid back into your seat, placing your phone face down to the table.
“So… Dr. Crane?” Marie leaned towards you, her eyebrow raised. Nervously, you laughed, wondering if you were going to start regretting letting her know about your illicit affair (her words, not yours).
“Is it bad?”
“Eh, Bridgit’s dating someone who frequents��the Iceberg Lounge, if you know what I mean.” Marie wiggled her eyebrows, taking a sip of her tea before clearing her throat. A deep pang of loneliness echoed through your heart at hearing she was still friends with your old group. Of course she was, why wouldn’t she be? You were the one who pushed them away. “So I apologize that dating your professor isn’t as impressive.”
It had taken you two phone conversations with her to finally admit that you were, in one way or another, involved with Jonathan. You knew that you hadn’t done the best job of describing your relationship if Marie had simply boiled it down to “dating”. But how else were you supposed to concisely describe a relationship like the one that you had with him if you couldn’t even explain it to yourself?
Well, we have sex frequently, he has found his way into every aspect of my life, but I think if I was to imply I cared about him in any meaningful capacity it would ruin everything.
“I don’t think we’re technically dating-”
“Okay, well whatever. My point stands.” Her smile faltered, a look of concern flitting across her features. “I just hope you know what you’re doing. His RateMyProfessor score isn’t too great.”
You gave her an incredulous look, though you’re not sure if your disbelief came from her looking him up in the first place or from her trusting RateMyProfessor as a way to gauge someone’s quality as a romantic partner.
“You looked him up? When?”
“When you went to order.” She said it casually and you supposed she equated it to going through someone’s Instagram or Twitter to determine their validity as a boyfriend.
You held back a sigh. How can you defend him to your friend when you don’t even disagree with some of the complaints people have about him? Yes, he’s harsh, yes, he doesn’t simplify things for easier understanding, yes, he only gives you two absences and docks points if you don’t show up after that. But, for you, these weren’t necessarily bad things. Just hard to justify in front of someone who seems to want to see him as a villain.
“He’s a good professor, he just doesn’t coddle his students.”
“Like he coddles you?” She laughed, and it was much easier to just laugh along rather than point out that your experience with Jonathan Crane has not been very coddling.
No, every conversation with Jonathan was like he was picking your brain for something, like he had you figured out and was waiting for you to catch up.
“And because of him you’re working down at that insane asylum?” She took another sip of her tea.
“The psychiatric hospital, yes.” You corrected, nodding anyway as she spoke.
“The one with criminals?”
“Yes.” Immediately, you knew where she was going with this line of questioning. Neither of you brought him up, but his shadow hung over your conversations, the unspoken force that had caused your friendship to drift apart for over a year.
“The one where the-”
“Yes.”
Marie is silent, her eyebrows pinched and her eyes crinkled in worry.
“Oh. Is that smart, you know, for you? What if you have to see him?”
“Well, I’ve already met him so-” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.
“Hold on- you met him? Like, you had a conversation with him or you just saw him across the building?”
Both, technically. But only one was actually interesting enough to tell her about.
“I’ve spoken with him.” You bit your lip, debating if you should tell her what he had revealed to you when you’d spoken- that you and Marie had, in fact, briefly met him at the mayor’s funeral. Then you thought about how she would take the news that he had remembered you well enough to recognize you and comment on it.
He’s obsessed, don’t talk to him anymore! You don’t want a guy like that interested in you. She’d say something like that, on the verge of telling you to quit your job.
And you would sigh, roll your eyes, and say: It’s not like I purposefully sought him out. But he’s not obsessed, he just remembers things. Even though you yourself weren’t quite sure how well that particular excuse holds up, even after Jonathan told you about it himself. Because he could very well have made that up to ease your discomfort.
On the other hand, Jonathan hardly ever lied to make you feel better.
“And?” Marie was watching you expectantly. “What was that conversation like?”
“Uninteresting.” The lie slipped off your tongue easily. You realized as you spoke that you felt very much the same way about Edward as you had about meeting the Batman. That it was a secret you didn’t want anyone to be privy to. “He didn’t say anything important. Unnerving, sure. Important? No.”
You knew she didn’t buy your lie when she pursed her lips into a small pout but you were saved from further questioning by her phone ringing. Tearing her eyes away from you, she groaned and made a comment about it being her boss before she got up and went to step outside to take the call.
You released a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding, staring into your coffee cup. Of course, Marie would come back and immediately begin questioning you again, trying to pry information about Edward from you. But at least her phone call had granted you a few minutes of relief, a brief respite for you to figure out how to continue avoiding her questions.
Picking your phone up, you swiped it open, ignoring the fact that you once again had no notifications. You never did, considering you stopped posting to social media after Gotham Square Garden and had essentially cut out everyone but your own parents. But even with them, you’d grown distant and had only recently started trying to mend your relationship.
It was a spur of the moment decision to reach out to Marie, but it was one that you were glad for. And you were not going to admit to her that the person who had lit the desire to reach out to her in the first place was the god-damn Riddler.
Absently, you checked your email, scrolling past too-enthusiastic promotional emails from companies you didn’t buy from anymore, heart stopping when you saw an email from the internship coordinator of Wayne Enterprises.
“Oh my god.”
Here it was, the rejection you knew was coming. With a hand over your mouth, you began reading, your eyes scanning the text of the email rapidly, ready to read the fake apologies of a corporation that deemed you unworthy to work for them.
Dear applicant,
After reading over your submitted documents for the Solomon Wayne Archival Internship we have decided to move your application forward.
Please respond letting us know when you are available to interview on any of the following dates…
The short email ended with a series of dates and times and subsequent congratulations.
“What happened?” Marie was back from outside, sliding into the booth with ease. Worry pinched her face again, but it immediately disappeared as soon as you put your hand down to reveal your smile.
“I got an interview at Wayne Enterprises!”
Her mouth dropped open in surprise before morphing into a smile wider than your own.
“What?! When?”
“I’ll have to choose a time but it’s sometime next week.” Oh my god. Oh my god.
“That’s awesome!” She seemed genuinely happy for you, and it was like you’d never pushed her away, like you’d stayed friends for the past year.
But more importantly, the news had taken her mind away from the Riddler and you weren’t going to bring the conversation back to him, or Jonathan, or your job at Arkham. Instead, you spent the last half-hour of your coffee date asking her questions, reveling in getting to know her again.
Ever since you found out that the Scarecrow was taking shipments from the cargo ships that come into the Port of Gotham, you’d had a tab open on your laptop to a tracking website. Lists of ships, their ports, the serial numbers of their containers. With that information, it was fairly easy to just plug it into a different website and find out what those containers were for.
Though your Intelligence professor stressed that state surveillance and lack of privacy was not a new thing in history, you did give a silent thanks to technology for making the information so much more accessible to the public. With just a few keystrokes, you were able to find out that in two weeks, another shipment of pharmaceutical chemicals was arriving in Gotham’s harbor.
Jotting it down in your notepad, you snapped it shut, biting back a smile.
Just like a real detective.
Of course, you told yourself, you weren’t going to do anything with the information.
But then again, you’d become very good at lying to yourself.
Office hours were largely unchanged from when you began your TA’ing position. You still came in, sat across from Jonathan, pulled out any work you needed to do, and worked in silence until he broke it. It was the same routine, every week. The only difference was now you left with him.
You pondered then, as you sat and flipped through a random assignment you were working on for one of your other classes, about the fact that you now spent a good amount of your life with Jonathan. Where a few months ago, you were starving for any scrap of attention he would give you, aching for him to look your way, you were now overwhelmed by it, spoiled with it.
Even as you sat separately, doing your own work individually, there was energy thrumming between you.
The two hours he allotted for office hours passed quickly- you were typing up your most recent notes from Psychology of Fear to send to the students. Jonathan had made a comment about how you would help grade their final papers, which you readily accepted. You barely spoke to one another the entire time.
Soon, you were walking across campus with him in the misty drizzle of the early evening, the streetlamps haloed with their own light as you passed through the illuminated circles they cast on the ground. As summer approached, the days were becoming longer, the blue twilight that currently enveloped Gotham lasting longer each day. You knew that he was leading you to the university’s largest parking garage, which was nestled in the center of campus. It was five stories tall, but extended down into the earth a few floors as well.
The parking garage was emptying out, now just a humid, cavernous space with no use. Jonathan had parked at the far side of the bottom level, the furthest corner from the entrance. Yellow lights cast long shadows over the garage, the shadows pitch black voids. Normally you would never come down here, especially never by yourself, but with Jonathan by your side you saw no reason to be nervous.
His hand lingered over the small of your back, as you noticed it often did when he was walking with you somewhere. While you enjoyed his gentle guidance, you also knew that it was reckless of him. No one, in the history of the modern world, has ever put their hand on that part of the human body without also having put their hands elsewhere. It was an indication of your intimacy, a silent admission of guilt (even though you’re sure that Jonathan had no guilt about his frequently fucking you). But you also didn’t care enough to ever brush him off.
Besides, you were alone now, the only sound in the parking garage was your footsteps.
When you reached his car, and instead of letting you go to your side of the car his hand flexed, maneuvering you to face him. Jonathan tilted your chin towards him, looking down into your eyes. Slowly, he pressed you against the car, his mouth capturing yours in a gentle yet passionate kiss. Though, in your experience so far, there was nothing he physically did with you that wasn’t passionate. Every time he touched you, it was like he was trying to stain your skin with his touch, to mark you forever as someone he once knew intimately so that any of your future lovers would know he once held you.
His hand slowly snaked down your body, slipping under the hem of your pants. His finger slipped through your folds, which were quickly becoming wet, playing with your clit as you whimpered.
You parted from him, gasping against his mouth.
“Anyone can see us-“
“It’s okay,” he hushed you, the tight circles he was drawing over your clit sending bursts of pleasure throughout your body, “no one will look down here.”
And unlike when he felt you up at the Gala, this time you threw caution to the wind, nodding quickly, breaths of yes, please, escaping your mouth. Let someone come down, let them see. As long as his touch continued, you didn’t care.
Jonathan slipped two fingers into you, the heel of his palm resting on your clit as he began to thrust his digits, creating a scissoring motion inside of you and dragging them against your inner walls as he brought them down. With each movement of his fingers, the pressure on your clit shifted, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.
You knew what he was trying to find when he was brushing against you, the sensitive spot inside you that would make your mouth gape and your breath catch. And with each pass of his fingers, he brought you closer and closer to your finish and your breath was filled with a litany of begging and pleading nonsense that he paid no mind to until, with a final gasp and murmured praise against your ear, you came, clenching around his fingers as he continued to work them inside of you.
As aftershocks of pleasure twinged your body, twitches running up and down your legs, he removed his fingers from your pants, bringing them to his mouth before sucking them off. You could only watch, eyes half-lidded as he brought them out of his mouth with a pop.
Panting, you pressed back against the door, leaning against it as you fought to regain your sanity and your breath. The heavy bursts of air coming from your mouth seemed deafening in the parking garage, like it was echoing on every corner before coming back to you.
You reached down, wanting to help Jonathan but he brushed you off. He opened the driver side door, turning back to look at you before he climbed in and started the car.
“Get in the car, it’s getting late.”
To his apartment, then. You had a feeling that you would not be getting any rest until much later in the night.
Wayne Enterprises, unsurprisingly, towered over you. It towered over much of the city, the building a staple of Gotham’s skyline.
You took a deep breath, straightening out your blouse, before pushing open the door. A blast of cold, clean air hit you as you entered the lobby, which was multiple stories tall and completely comprised of windows on the side of the doors. Natural light streamed in, basking the narrow room in its light. On the opposite side of the lobby were a few escalators and a row of elevators with a steady stream of people entering and exiting.
The whole building was a more corporate environment than you ever imagined yourself existing in but you also never imagined yourself working in an insane asylum. Life was full of surprises, it seemed.
Worrying your lip between your teeth, you searched the lobby for the receptionist. When you saw her, you wondered how you managed to miss her.
She sat at a long ornate desk, two monitors and an iPad sitting on the top. In her ear was a bluetooth earpiece, which she was listening to and responding intently as she typed rapidly on the keyboard. She smiled as you approached, giving you a finger signal that clearly meant “please wait one second,” which left you awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot in an uncomfortable shoe to the other foot in an uncomfortable shoe, looking at the room around you while trying not to purposefully eavesdrop on her conversation.
Finally, the receptionist smiled at you.
“Hi, welcome to Wayne Enterprises, how can I help you?”
I wonder if she feels like a drive through operator, probably saying that same thing to every person who comes into the building and needs help.
“Um, hi, I’m here for an interview? For the archives internship.”
“Who is your interview with?” She asked, already typing something, clicking at her mouse as she pulled up god-knows-what.
“Oh, shit.” You pulled out your phone, grimacing as you cursed your unprofessionalism, quickly pulling up your email app and scrolling for the confirmation email. “Oh! It’s here, um…”
The receptionist smiled. You wondered what she was thinking.
“Elizabeth Miller?” You grimace when it comes out sounding like a question, but the receptionist doesn’t seem to mind. She simply nods and types into her computer.
“Alright, I’ll tell her that you’re waiting for her. You can have a seat over there while you wait.” She gave you a bright smile which you returned with your own meek version, your nerves kicking into high gear now that you officially had no way out of the interview.
You pulled out your phone, selecting a random social media app to scroll around on while you waited. You knew that nothing you saw on the app would distract you from your impending interview, but it was better than staring into space and waiting. Which you did end up doing once you grew bored of your phone a minute later, slipping it back into your pocket.
Drumming your fingers on your knees, you watched as the elevator doors opened and closed, spitting out a few people at a time. None of them were who you were waiting for, though every time a woman walked out you perked up before deflating when she didn’t look your way.
Finally, a blonde woman who looked like she was in her mid-forties came out of the elevator, smiling widely with incredibly white teeth when she saw you waiting. When she was about a yard away, she held out her hand and began speaking, clearly used to the fast paced environment she worked in.
“Hi, I’m Elizabeth and I’m the internship coordinator here at Wayne Enterprises.”
You introduced herself, your voice breaking slightly. Clearing your throat, you repeated yourself. She smiled, gesturing for you to follow her. She led you into the elevator, pressing a button. The entire time she occupied you with small talk, inconsequential comments about the weather and questions about your semester.
When the doors opened, she immediately began walking again, leading you to a small conference room. Opening the door, she allowed you to walk through first before shutting the door behind her.
“The writing sample you submitted to us was great.” She said, gesturing for you to sit down. “I would love to read the whole thing. Jeremy thought it was a bit too topical to be applicable for an archival position but I thought it was a good example of how you write about your research.”
“Thank you.” You hadn’t expected to be complimented like this from the get-go. You were expecting the type of interview where the person interviewing you didn’t smile or respond to your answers and this was a pleasant surprise.
“And it does connect to the company’s history because, as you are well aware, the Riddler was the catalyst for us going in and re-examining our records of the Renewal program.”
She didn’t even sound uncomfortable as she relayed this, ever the professional.
“Right.” You had no idea what else to say, aside from I know, I wrote about it. It had been a risk, submitting a sample from your unfinished paper but you knew that it was some of your best work, commentary on the then-current political landscape of Gotham combined with the rise of vigilantism, how the two were symbiotic forces.
“Anyway, let’s get into it.”
You smiled, shifting in your chair. You could do this. In less than an hour, you’ll be back out on the street and making your way home.
The rest of the interview passed quickly, with Elizabeth smiling and nodding during every answer you gave. You wondered if she was like this with all of the interviewees to make them more comfortable or if you were actually succeeded at the interview.
She asked the usual types of questions one could expect from an interview: describe a time you solved a problem independently, how does your education supplement your experience, tell me about your philosophy when it comes to the archival process. Well, maybe that last one wasn’t exactly a normal interview question.
You left the conference room buzzing with confidence in yourself and your chances in actually getting the internship. And if you did, you would have done it without outside help.
As you left the building, you pulled your phone out, scrolling through your recent call log. Which was really just comprised of your mother (every call around ten minutes long), Jonathan (his calls averaged around two minutes, usually just to inform you of something or that he was waiting for you), and Marie (all of her calls were at least fifteen minutes long, and filled with comfortable banter and complaints about the day). You hit your mother’s number, bringing the phone to your ear as you began walking down the street away from Wayne Enterprises.
She picked up after three rings.
“Hey! What’s going on? How are you?” Your mom’s voice was loud and you’re not sure if it was because of your phone’s volume or because she was just so surprised to see that you were calling her that she couldn’t control herself.
“Hey, mom.” You turned the volume down on your phone anyway. “Just calling because I just finished my interview.”
You’d told her in a text a few days ago about your interview, which had resulted in a slew of emojis that only middle-aged moms used. But it was endearing and you’re glad that for once she was supporting one of your Gotham-related decisions instead of just immediately asking you to return home.
“Yay! How was it?”
“Good! I feel like I have a good chance of getting it, though I have no idea how many other people were interviewed.” You pushed down the urge to say something self-deprecating, to put yourself down. As far as you knew, you did have a good shot at getting it because nothing happened in the interview to indicate otherwise. You didn’t fumble on any of your answers, none of the questions tripped you up, and the woman you were interviewing with seemed genuinely interested in the things you wanted to say.
“That’s great!” You smiled at the phone even though you knew she couldn’t see it. “Maybe then you can work there instead of at that asylum.”
Your smile faltered, then, but it wasn’t an unexpected comment. When you’d told your mom about your new job, she was less than thrilled that you had gone from one dangerous job to another dangerous job, albeit dangerous for different reasons.
“It’s just an internship, it doesn’t mean I’ll automatically get a job offer when it's done.”
“Well, it’s a step up. You’ve got your foot in the door.”
You were quiet, unsure how to respond. After a few more seconds of silence, your mother changed the subject.
“Do you have any plans for tonight?”
“Not really.” You wracked your brain, trying to think of anything that you could do to tell her about. Certainly not scour the internet for information on Gotham’s latest masked criminal. “I guess I could watch some TV? I haven’t really done that lately, I’ve been so busy.”
“Well, whatever you decide on, I hope you have fun- Oh! I almost forgot,” You could hear her shuffling through something, puzzle pieces from the sound of it. “Did you want my old car? Your father and I have been discussing getting a new one since my current one doesn’t run as well. I figured since you wouldn’t be driving too much in that city and it’s old so now one would break in, it would fit your needs well enough…”
You were silent, shocked. You didn’t even notice that you had stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk until someone walked too close to you, their shoulder hitting the side of your body as they failed to completely go around you. Shaking your head, waking yourself up, you started walking again.
“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want it. It’s not a nice car, you know this-“
“What? Yeah!” You cut her off, a bit too loudly. You took a deep breath and calmed yourself back down. “I mean, I’ll probably still walk everywhere but yeah. Having a car would make getting to work easier and just… it would be nice. Yes!”
“Okay, we’ll see about coming to the city to bring it. And we can get a nice lunch, or something.”
“That’s perfectly fine with me, thank you so so so much.”
You finished the conversation quickly, hanging up and barely containing your squeal of excitement. A car! You’d have a car! And that meant that you could stop relying on Jonathan to take you to and from work, that you’d have more independence in the city.
As you continued your walk home, you couldn’t contain the smile that spread across your face. Everything was looking up. You had a new job that you didn’t completely hate, a relationship with your captivating psychology professor (who was also kinda your boss, but that’s fine), a possible internship at one of the largest companies in Gotham (that you would've gotten without said professor’s help), and now you had a shitty car to get around in.
Compared to your life at this time last year, you were doing infinitely better. Now you just had to put in the work to keep it that way.
next part
#I've gotten behind in posting it over here!#stbotdi#stay to burn only to drown instead#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane smut#batman fanfiction#batman x reader#reader insert fic#crossposting from ao3#my fic#my writing
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A Mother Changes
CATZ Discography
Fandom: Hypnosis Mic
Characters: Ann Wolff (OC), Original Female Character, Original Male Character
Synposis: Having a mother who is a loyal follower of the Party Of Words can be a pain… And yet, Ann’s mother had not always been like this. It was a sudden change, to say the least. A little too sudden in fact…
Tags: Family Dram, Dysfunctional Family, Family Issues, Past Relationship(s), Past, Trust Issues, Pre-The Dirty Dawg Era (Hypnosis Mic), Backstory, Original Character(s), Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Original Character-centric, Canon Universe, Pre-Canon, Canon Era POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited
Words: 1,715
AO3 Link
It had all started that day, a bit before the H Age had taken effect. Ann recalls that day better than any other, sometimes it is haunting them in their dreams. Though at the time they thought nothing of it. Their mother always had different views and was outspoken about the state women find themselves in. It had never been to the extreme it was ever since shortly after the H Age had started. In fact, back then she was more an avid supporter and mesmerized by Tohoten’s appearance on television. That was the day the change would kick in…
The family of three sat at the table, eating dinner as usual. Ann was still in highschool back then and their father was still within the house as well. They had turned on a political debate, given both of the parents were heavily into politics, though their father especially. And yet, it was their mother who spoke up shortly after the debate had been over, with an unusual shine in her eyes.
“Finally! Someone who I can stand behind! It was about time!” She exclaimed happily, somewhat eager in fact. “She is saying the things I have been saying all this time!”
Both Ann and their father had been surprised by this reaction, not having expected anything like this. But they were not complaining, not necessarily. It was great to see her this eager in fact and they both understood fully. “Sure, everyone talks about how ‘women are equal to men’ but seeing society as a whole… In fact, I earn way less than my male co–workers and I do the same thing! Need I say more!?”
“No, not at all…” Ann threw in, though a bit more quiet, mostly because they knew what their mother said next.
“Oh don’t sound like that dear! It affects you too, doesn’t it? You have to give double your effort to one day match this!”
“Yeah yeah, you’ve been saying this all the time. I get it.” They countered with a sigh, then stuffing their mouth with some rice from their own bowl. “I’m fine though, don’t worry about it.”
“Hey, Mom’s just worried about your future.” Their Dad responded, though sounding calm of course. And there was nothing off with this at the time, he had no reason to be on alert. “And so am I. So just keep doing your best.”
And all they could do was nod. After all, this was the truth. Regardless if things would change or not, it was important to get a proper education. Especially if they want to follow through with their own dreams.
“That aside, I am more than eager for the change! This Tohoten seems like a woman who can follow through with her promises!” Their mother continued, clearly mesmerized at this point, sounding like an admirer in fact. “I also think we women need to have as much of a say as men!”
“Hey, am I like this towards the both of you?” Their father asked, though sounding rather light-hearted about it than anything. He knew how his wife meant it and yet it had caught her somewhat off guard, looking at her husband with somewhat of an embarrassment. A near chuckle had escaped Ann’s own lips in fact.
“Ah– No dear. I didn’t mean that every man is like this. You know that I’m more than aware!”
“Hey, I know. Just messing with you dear.”
“Hah… Please don’t… You know what I’m trying to say…”
“Of course I am. And I don’t disagree with you on that.”
Yeah, none of the two would. There was truth to those words, certainly. And it sounded like a noble goal at the time — Make the voices of women heard, make them speak louder. They face difficulties and Tohoten sounded like she wanted to change that at the time. a first step towards equality. And back then Ann believed what this was: A cry for equality, its first step in fact. No one could say anything against that and wouldn’t. Of course not! There was literally no reason to!
“Say, would you two mind if I joined this Party Of Words?” Their mother suddenly brought up, making the other two look yet again. “I’m sick of just talking and preaching myself.”
“Join the party?” Ann repeated after having swallowed the rice in their mouth, looking at the face their mother had at the time. She seemed ecstatic, truly happy and more than eager to make a change. She wanted this more than anything and saw it as a chance to finally stand up to her beliefs. After all, what can a no name do? She had been the regular salary woman at the time, the average office worker. She had no chance even if she tried, outside of the small changes at the workplace she helped to achieve. But not to make a big difference. Now though? This may be her opportunity to get her word out there, with others who share this belief, having people to stand behind…
“Hey, you’re not a kid. I’d say go for it. If it makes you happy.” Their father responded, being encouraging even.
“But it would be an opposing party to the one you are—”
“That’s alright. We both have our beliefs. Really, go for it. We will support you all the way. Right, Ann?”
They nodded. “Yeah.” Despite the softness at the time they meant it. If that was what their mother wanted to do, there were no objections from the entire family.
If they had known what this would result in, they might have never agreed. Both them and their father. Sure, it took a while yet it had taken shape shortly after they had graduated highschool…
One day when Ann returned home from a part time job they took at the time, merely to pass the time before university started, they were greeted with their father right on the streets, two bags in hand and one on his back. Given his age it was far from healthy for him to carry all of this himself so they rushed over, worried… Shortly after hearing the following: “And don’t show your face here ever again you pig!”
It had them in disbelief for a moment, it was their mother’s voice. This was not normal, far from it, and nothing had indicated this. It was a clear 180, so sudden that anyone would be in shock to be honest.
That was even more reason to rush over, then asking nearly panicked: “Dad!? What’s going on!? Did you do something!? What–”
“Ann, calm down and take a deep breath. Everything will be fine.” He interrupted them, grabbing them by their shoulders. “Your… mother will explain. I have to go.”
“Eh? Mom? Why? What’s happening? Can’t you two talk it out or—”
“I’m afraid not. Your Mom is set on this. I… am moving out.”
“Moving out!? Wha—”
“Ann! Get inside here! Stop wasting time talking to him!” They were interrupted by their mother who had opened the door yet again it seemed, her voice awfully loud and strict in fact. It made anyone almost tremble and it was hard to refuse. She had never been like this unless truly upset. Sometimes she was when it came to her kid’s cleaning habits but… With the man of the family?
They did not respond at first, only looking up at their father, the shock in their eyes. “D… Did Mom throw you out?”
A moment of silence, he did not respond, at least not verbally. All they got was a nod in response before he let go of their shoulders, passing by them. “I have to go. Please, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“Wha— Wait Dad, you can’t just—”
“Ann! I told you to get here! Now! We need to have a talk!”
Mom… She was ignoring this! At this very moment, she was just ignoring this fact and did not pay attention to her own husband! That alone was infuriating, making them turn for a moment to their mother and starting to yell right back: “We!? I think you need to have a talk with—!”
“Please, just go talk to your mother. Worry about your future, not mine. I will find a way.” These had been the last words they would hear of their father for some time, silencing Ann on the spot and making them stand there in disbelief. In their head they were screaming, this wasn’t happening. This shit… How? What was going on!? It was confusing and… Infuriating. Ever since back then, the party— No, they couldn’t shove the blame onto the party just yet. Even if it had been suspicious, it was not enough to blame them at that moment…
Things had moved fast and the rest was history by then. Their mother forced Ann to quit their job and join the Party Of Words, essentially the Chuohku. Why?
‘Your future is not at some market and putting things onto a shelf! Your future is with the party! If you want to make something out of yourself you will join, climb the ranks and become a full fledged member of the Party Of Words! Do you understand!?’
It was a lot to take in and yet at the time Ann was afraid to say no. Their mother had changed ever since, now insisting on them joining. It would only benefit them in their dreams, talent would only get them so far, and they could pay off their tuition on their own. Or it would get sponsored in some way, two birds with one stone! And at the time the offer sounded appealing, very in fact. But it would not last for long, obviously not. Because once getting an idea of the corrupt ways the Chuohku had, performing the same acts they had criticized if not worse, it was not an environment Ann felt comfortable in. It felt weird… Something they just couldn’t support. And yet their mother had ordered for them to stay with the party, whether they liked it or not… They felt stuck, at least for some time.
If it had not been for the Party Of Words, perhaps their family would still be the same…
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