legitimately I would love to see more of Mari in fics where she's not so much physically beating up rogues in Gotham as much as waging psychological warfare, for example:
any time a building is destroyed or people are killed, Mari promptly un-destroys and un-kills them.
the terrifying part only comes if they try to talk to her and she proceeds to answer them similar to the contents of the tumblr mushroom post, e.g.:
Rogue of the week: but I--I just--
Marinette, turning her head at angles it was never meant to be turned at: do you think you can leave a mark in a way that matters? do you think your acts will be remembered any more than a bad dream is in the morning light? do you think your deeds will amount to more than a grain of sand on the beach of human history?
Rogue of the week, to any cop within grabbing distance: ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵃʳʳᵉˢᵗ ᵐᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰⁱˢ ʷᵒᵐᵃⁿ
I guess what I'm really saying is more cryptid/vaguely eldritch horror mari. the fact that she can bring people back with the miraculous cure is supremely scary if you actually think about it and I just think someone should take advantage of it, because Robins are terror in their own right, but mari?
she knows things that shouldn't be known.
while you studied the blade i studied the forge so i could make you the very best blade in the world! love you baby
FINALLY a Logan Evolution one. Might still use pieces of this to carve out the FBLAU.
The History of One James Logan Howlett
At Eight, it Happens.
The house had been decorated for a celebration. Even when he’s sick, which is often, his parents always try to entertain him, even if he’s stuck in a wheelchair so he doesn’t have to walk. He’s sick with the flu for the third time that year. He’s just standing up from bed to the chair when he hears-
BANG
And then a scream.
The fever makes the world melt around him as he breathes, but he stumbles out of his room towards the sound. He sees the groundskeeper on top of his father, and that’s it.
He killed two people that day, not one. His father, and his half-brother.
His babysitter, Rosie, whisks him away into the woods, names him Logan, but they’re both young, and the work is too heavy for a frail girl and her little brother. The worst happens to Rosie. She gets sick from all the stress and the snow, and by the spring, he’s with the wolves, learning how to live, forgetting his past by the day.
The government finds a little boy with blood still dripping down his mouth, deerskin as his only clothing. They send him to a home and he learns how to pretend to be a person, another animal pelt he slings over himself to appear less threatening.
Eleven finds him back in the woods, his most natural habitat. He sleeps in the trees, eats raw meat for the first time in years and feels alive. There is no need to pretend to be ghosts.
At thirteen, he begins to work with Wraith, Sabretooth, and is guided by a man called Maverick. (everyone knew Stryker was pulling the shots). They’re a team, and a good one. But something happens, and he starts to work alone.
Fourteen isn’t remembered. There is nothing special about the Wolverine.
Fifteen finds him isolated, in a little room in a little house. He’s on a mission he won’t remember, in a place that won’t matter. Somehow he gets a cupcake on his bed. He doesn’t know who it’s from, but he eats it anyway.
16 passes the same way. He is safe. He eats raw meat again. He gets another cupcake.
And 17 finds him running, running, running, running, no memory of anything except the pain and a blonde boy reaching out in fear and rage but everything seems wrong so he does what he does best and runs.
He’s all the way in the US by the time he realizes what he’s done.
something about lightbulbs just screams "put me in your mouth" it feels so natural. like smoking while pumping gas
Legolas saying ‘this city needs more trees’ is actually so valid. Not only from an environmental and social well-being point of view, but Gondor has one very important tree with very few fellows and therefore restricted access to nutrients, so the extended mycorrhizal network more trees would provide actively enhances the welfare of the white tree and symbolically the spirit of the nation. In this essay I will
Edit: I wrote the essay
the amount of faith it takes to transition and believe it can get better is holier than any church
popular culture used to be very much about eroticism. rockstars used to be on stage in sequins and thongs and thigh high boots playing guitars like they were masturbating. girls used to wear velvet mini dresses and no bras and red-brick-brown lipstick and mascara on their bottom lashes. people used to have body hair on television and in the movies. people used to be sweaty. people used to touch each other over denim and under cotton. foreplay used to be staring at someone over the rim of a glass across a bar across a park across a dinner table. people used to want. i think we’ve lost something
YUUUUUUP
Inconceivably cruel hearted to make me exist outside of a warm comfortable bed tbh
i feel like the youth should be reminded that the point of shipping is not for a ship to become canon. the point of shipping is to collect all the canon crumbs like starved mice, run away cackling and make some fun little scenarios with them just for the hell of it.