psa: hi everyone!! this is very last minute announcement / choice, but i have remade this blog with the exact same url so please just go follow there. this account is under an extremely old email that i have no way of recovering the password for, so my lazy butt finally decided to get it together and start fresh. that’s all! ^^
WILL YOU STOP IF I GODDAM SMILE????
how can i possibly stop now that i have obtained the knowledge that i, your ̲𝗈̲𝗇̲𝗅̲𝗒̲ child, am not enough of a reason for you to ever smile--
* LOCATION: 𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙻𝙾𝚂𝙴𝙳 𝚂𝙰𝙵𝙴𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴. DATE: 12/24/???? A PALLID WHITE LIVING ROOM, ABSENT OF ANY ATMOSPHERIC WARMTH IN SPITE OF ABUNDANCE OF CHRISTMAS DECOR.
HER LIP QUIVERS, A SUREFIRE WARNING SIGN OF BELLIGERENCY even when she has been warned, tantrums are not an infallible method. it cannot be helped. her hopes are being dashed, once again. in spite of every single one of her pleas to santa when he came by their mall -- in spite of every perfectly scribbled letter written prior to, in spite of every star wished upon -- it seemed her christmas wish had gotten lost somewhere along the way.
❛ please daddy. . . ❜ fat tears make their way down cherubic cheeks, pathetic sniffles muffled as she buries her face into his expensive pantleg. her clinging abilities would make a koala envious. ❛ i don’t want any presents, i don’t want anythin’ ‘cept you. please just stay, please don’t leave me again. promise? ❜
┊ ˚˖↷ @sionisis
HER APPEARANCE IS UNANNOUNCED as always, flocking about like an idllyic bird wherever she so pleases. ( having long left the golden gilded cage nest, her whereabouts are no longer a TOP PRIORITY for him ) but for all the memories of youthful longing for freedom, it seems she, inevitably, returns.
hence, now. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙴𝙻 𝙼𝙸𝙻𝙻. a ghastly, hellfire smoked, soot and concrete. unwelcoming and foreboding for most. something of a second home for her. 𝙄𝙏 𝘼𝙇𝙒𝘼𝙔𝙎 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝘽𝙀. much as she may try to reason otherwise.
the click of heels is somehow unheard. either he is purposefully ignoring her or, as she so reasonably suspects, he’s so buried in his work that he might as well have forgotten he sired an offspring. 𝚠̲𝚎̲𝚕̲𝚕̲,̲ ̲ ̲𝚗̲𝚘̲ ̲ ̲𝚖̲𝚘̲𝚛̲𝚎̲!̲ because delicate, manicured hands come to rest upon the eye sockets of a horrid masked face -- 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙊 𝘼𝙇𝙇; 𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙊 𝙃𝙀𝙍 -- and a giggle.
❛ 𝓖𝘜𝘌𝘚𝘚 𝘞𝘏𝘖? ❜ // @sionisis
Dark Victory, 1939
Shay Mitchell as Peach Salinger in ‘You’
dads will see their kids and be like “is anyone gonna emotionally damage that” and not wait for an answer
lrt got me missing the arkham origins au i had of little mel thinking her dad’s come home for christmas as a surprise rather than working / ending up in jail, but she doesn’t realize at first oh god honey that’s not him
IT WAS MORBIDLY FUNNY TOO BC ROMAN KEPT MEL A SECRET FROM THE PUBLIC EYE AT THAT TIME STILL SO U HAVE JOKER IN DISGUISE NOT WANTING TO BLOW COVER YET BEING LIKE “hello yes it is I, your father, so good to see you meee..... lissa?” AND POOR MEL’S JUST HAPPY HE’S HERE FOR CHRISTMAS WHO CARES IF HE FORGOT HER NAME HE’S JUST A LIL TIRED OBVIOUSLY
lrt got me missing the arkham origins au i had of little mel thinking her dad’s come home for christmas as a surprise rather than working / ending up in jail, but she doesn’t realize at first oh god honey that’s not him
“You’ll die badly, Batman.”
g o o d m o r n i n g
Send ✋ to slap my muse.
wound !
younger and younger, the little toy soldiers get to be. ( this game is no longer fun anymore. )
HER COMPASSION MUST BE NIPPED IN THE BUD. what is considered a virtue to the ordinary citizen is recognized with disdain in the leagues she is associated with ; this vice of hers is proving to be problematic, her own youthful endeavor is no longer a sufficient excuse. she has overheard the frustrations of her patriarch, cursing reckless parenting in allowing her the company of low - tier bodyguards for company ( as though that is the aspect in need of criticism when it comes to faulty parenting ) because it is through them, she learned to soften what should otherwise be a hardened, blackened heart by now.
( here’s the thing: there had been no initial hesitation. that, from her perspective, would be an issue. she’d fought back a BAT that’d been spotted mid - deal by the docks. she’d shouted out orders to her men to gun down a BAT. same ol’ same ol’, says her old man. they come in new numbers and new colorful capes. a BAT was a BAT. and the only thing she’d cared to note at that time was this was a new one. )
LIKE A VICTORIOUS CHILD WITH A SLINGSHOT TO A NEST. she’d knocked off the target precisely as intended. sure, just a graze wound here or there. but enough to do damage, knock this one of its’ feet. now came the matter of dealing with ‘em. and so she sighs beside herself, as though a maid coming to deal with a tiresome mess for the umpteenth time. her daddy would be monologuing or something, she supposes, maybe whistling a jovial mode to contrast the morbidity of the setting. well, the thing is, she still lacks creativity in that department. or really, initiative, for that matter. ‘cause maybe it’s just her, but wasting one’s breath even on their own enjoyment, is nothing but offering up the enemy an opportunity on a silver platter. so she gets upclose and personal to get a gander at this newbie and ----
𝘚𝘏𝘌 𝘐𝘚 𝘈 𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘓𝘋.
𝘖𝘓𝘋 𝘌𝘕𝘖𝘜𝘎𝘏 𝘛𝘖 𝘉𝘌 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘚𝘐𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙.
( theoretically speaking ; said sister may exist out there, in the form of some unfortunate unclaimed product with sionis blood in her. frankly, she’s probably better off, and mel doesn’t like stiff competition anyways. )
❛ shit. ❜ she says aloud, beside herself. feels like she’s gonna double over in shock. ain’t like she’s ever been exposed to violence before, of course. but seeing a fuckin’ kid younger than she was when she started running around being a hooligan with a switchblade and big mouth takes her back, but this isn’t a nostalgia trip. ❛ shit. shit. shit. holy shit -- holy shit. yer a fuckin’ kid, what the fuck. what the fuck? ❜
MASK OR NO MASK. that costume ain’t foolin’ anybody. specially not the likes of her. mel remembers fondly a time of trying to pull an act of dressing older than what she actually was and it did damn no difference. she’s grazed this kid, it’s not gonna be fatal -- well, it could be, if they were living in medieval times and nobody washed their goddamn hands at all -- but she’s just unofficially broken an unconscious rule set for herself, one she’s wisely reserved for her own conscience and never shared with her father. she’s never seen a necessity for violence against a kid, never. back in the days when she was a feisty shit swinging on others her size? that doesn’t count. those were even, fair fights in school yards and shit. this is different, this is wrong. why’s this the smallest goddamn bat she’s ever seen? are the bats running in short fucking supply these days?
it’s pure luck that she carries bandages on her. it’s common sense, really. she doesn’t even think on the decision, she acts right away like she’s some kind of emergency response team. and she knows that by putting herself out there, by acting out on this, theres’s a risk: she’s due for retribution. could get her ass kicked if this kid pulls some kind of crouching tiger hidden dragon surprise attack or whatever fancy shmancy moves she knows. so what? at least she’ll be able to live with herself.
❛ lookie ‘ere, yer shoulder’s clipped. i don’t got any miracle pain pills on me and i ain’t no doctor -- uh sorry by the way, not just fer that but fer this. y’know, everything here -- y’gotta lemme stop the bleedin’ anyways. i know, i know. lettin’ the fella that shot ya patch ya up is kinda fucked up, we’re not on the same side, ‘what’s my deal?’ consider this free of charge. i’ll get ya mcdonald’s afterwards or somethin’ too, i dunno. ❜
catching any of that which was spoken at lightning fast speed is something of an extreme sport in itself. but the reckless spilling of hastily made apologies is made up on the account that she handles the wound itself with practiced ease. after all, she’s had to do this to herself so many times before. this is nothing new.
𝙎𝙊𝙍𝙍𝙔 𝙆𝙄𝘿.
( yeah, that doesn’t even begin to cut it. )
❛ ---- I DON’T GIVE A RAT’S ASS ‘BOUT “MISUSE OF MY MEN”. I WANT ‘IM CHARBROILED AN’ STRAPPED TO A FIREWORK LIKE E’S GOIN’ ON FUCKIN’ LIFTOFF FOR NASA. 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄?! ❜