005 , SPLASH OF RED

Two years ago I started to teach myself how to draw. In April of 2018 I drew Norway. Today I redrew it. I’m very proud of my improvement!

I was coming up with an AU where Naruto was exposed as the Jinchuuriki to all of Konoha (including the Konoha 12) between the zabuza arc and Chūnin exam arc and as I explored this idea the plot got away from me. I ended up at a place where Kakashi was forced back into ANBU by Danzo leaving team 7 without a new leader, Sasuke is kidnapped by Orochimaru while he’s on the run with Naruto and Sakura, Konoha is fractured politically leaving Danzo as the new Hokage, and a Gaara who has never met Naruto Uzumaki has recently been appointed Kazekage

Might be the greatest Hunger Games edit I’ve ever seen omg

The Season's Upon Us

warnings: swearing, christmas

Jason pulled up to the manor grounds, a pit of dread sinking into his stomach. He licked his lips, feeling his unease starting to radiate off of him. It would be fine. Hopefully. Maybe. He coasted his bike to under one of the old Sycamore trees that often lined old estates, turning it off and swinging his leg over the side of the steel beast. He rummaged around his attached trunket, piling the gifts he got everyone high. Some were in his backpack (a fact that Jason knew he was going to get admonished for by a certain British gentleman) but the majority he had stuffed into his trunk.

He took a deep breath, cursing that not even the high of seeing his friends company wasn't enough to stave off his anxious tendencies as he start his death march to the front door. Dick's fucking Subaru was already parked out front and that somehow managed to loosen the tension in his shoulders the tiniest bit. He knew he would be more relaxed when Alfred would greet him at the front door. He didn't see Steph's Beetle yet, which wasn't that surprising. She and Tim where always late even when they were dating.

He hesitantly knocked on the door, which was ridiculous, he had lived here. Jason shook his head, trying to wipe the scowl off his features when he heard Alfred's light footsteps approaching. Suddenly, his anxiety dissipated.

Alfred greeted him with a warm expression, his tone leaking as much enthusiasm as his Britishness would allow (which wasn't any, really, but Jason could read between the lines), "Master Jason. What a pleasant surprise."

He really couldn't have helped the shy, almost bashful smile that tugged on the corners of his mouth. Jason quickly put the presents he was holding down taking a step forward and wrapped his arms around Alfred. Pulling him in for a fierce hug, mumbling, "It's good to see you too, Alfie."

Alfred happily returned the hug, a smile finally making its way onto his face. He seemed content to let the man that was basically his grandson hug him for as long as Jason wanted. He gave the man one last squeeze before Jason finally released him, taking a step back.

"Master Richard is in the family sitting room with Master Damian, I'm sure they'll be happy to see you." Alfred informed, subtly corralling Jason deeper into the house. Jason had to smirk at Alfred knowing he would bolt the second he got the chance. He grunted at the implication that Damian would be happy to see him, but Alfred primly interrupted him, "And Master Timothy and Miss Brown have yet to make an appearance."

"Is that an ire of disdain I hear in your voice, Alfred?"

"I certainly have no idea what you're talking about, Master Jason."

He snickered, following Alfred down the main hallway to the belly of the house. He could feel his palms sweating under the already slick wrapping paper of the gifts he was carrying, nervousness shook his voice despite his annoyance, "And Bruce?"

"He's in his study, lad."

He nodded, swiftly ignoring the raised eyebrow he was getting.

"Miss Cain and Master Duke unfortunately won't be joining us this evening."

Jason shot him a confused look, once again ignoring the butler's dry tone in favor of trying to piece together why they wouldn't be there. Alfred quickly elaborated, "They have a school trip to Paris this week, they won't be back until January I'm afraid."

"Damian didn't go?" Jason asked, still not quite understanding all of the other moving parts in this. The Brit shook his head, "It wasn't open to his year, I believe."

"Oh." Jason felt his eyebrows come together as they stopped in the kitchen. The smell of Christmas breakfast overwhelming his senses as he tried to thought. He wanted to comment, but decisively stated, "That sucks."

Alfred scoffed, going to reduce the heat on what Jason assumed was breakfast sausage and oh lord help them if Damian found out how much breakfast meat was being consumed before they're outrageous Christmas dinner. A cutting remark came from Alfred, "It's not like Master Bruce can't afford to take them to Paris whenever they wish."

Ah. That was the issue.

He smiled, "That's true, I guess."

Alfred scoffed again, going to dump the remaining water in the pan out while simultaneously shooing Jason out of the kitchen with a stern, "Enough stalling."

Jason rolled his eyes, allowing a fond, "'Bye Alf" to slip out while he turned on his heel in direction of the tree to first deposit his presents. Then, he took a deep breath to collect himself before turning into the living room. True to Alfred's word, there were two figures watching what looked to be The Grinch. Jason quirked an eyebrow at the movie choice, debating whether or not he could slip away unnoticed into the library. He shrugged, it was worth a shot.

"Jason!"

"Todd."

Shit.

"Dick, Dami," He replied, changing his course so he could vault over the back of the couch and land neatly in between both of them.

"When did you get here?" Dick asked, pausing the movie so they could talk. Jason mentally rolled his eyes at that, it wasn't like they had seen each other three days before or anything.

"Couple minutes ago," He shrugged, burying his back deeper into the cushions of the couch before adding, "Roy and Kori swing by this morning before they left?"

Dick flashed him a real, genuine smile. His brother was absolutely beaming. His dimples were out and everything. He replied easily, "Yeah! It was really good to see them."

Jason felt his own small smile worm onto his face, which broadened even more at Damian's scowl at Dick's overt delight. Jason nodded, letting the smile fade but not quite disappear, "Good."

He saw Damian roll his eyes out of the corner of his own, coming very close to what looked to be a pout--but that couldn't be right-- while he broke in, "How is the kitten fairing?"

Jason snickered. It hadn't taken long at all to get to what Damian was apparently worried about.

"Good." Jason repeated. He was so tempted to not elaborate any further but he knew Dick would likely scold him. "He--"

"--Wait? You have a kitten? When did you get a cat?"

Jason looked sideways at Damian, his brows furrowed once again, "Damian didn't tell you?"

"No?" God, Dick sounded completely bewildered, his eyes narrowed from their wide stare before as he threw a Look at both of them. Jason really didn't know why this was such a big deal. It was just a kitten after all. "I thought you wanted a dog?" Dick questioned again, shifting so he was leaning closer to the both of them. It took all of his will not to flinch back at the action. He knew Dick wouldn't do anything, but it still freaked him out.

"I do." Jason responded, quickly rushing on, "But Damian found it in the alley right next to my apartment and I couldn't really say no."

Damian snorted beside him, "I didn't offer. You took him."

Jason shot the punk a glare, like they didn't all know Damian's sanction. He couldn't bring anything else with a heartbeat home to the manor. They already had a small zoo and while Damian was competent and passionate about taking care of all of his animals, it still got to be overwhelming at a certain point. Dick was apparently amused by their bickering, if his smirk was anything to go off of.

Jason was about to snark something else before the youngest broke in again, disdain coloring his tone, "Did you at least name him yet?"

"Yes." Jason retorted with maybe more venom than he was originally intended.

"I trust it is an adequate name?"

"I think I'm going to name him Bartholomew."

Damian scoffed while Dick outright cackled. Jason felt his shoulders hunched, crawling up to his ears. He knew when he was being harassed and it wasn't like Dick had a fucking inch to talk. His days with Robin were riddled with terrible, terrible puns. He managed to bite out a clean, "Theo for short."

"Who's Theo?" Jason groaned, throwing his head back as he closed his eyes. Great. Now there were three of them. He could tell by the tone of his voice that Dick was wearing a shit-eating grin, thoroughly enjoying the torment, "Jay's new kitten."

There was a dip next to him and if the lavender perfume was any indication, he'd guess it was Steph. She was either joining the war on his side, or, and this was much more likely, she was going to join his brothers. He opened his eyes, rolling his head to the side, looking her in the eye. She was already munching on one of his pain au chocolats.

"Those are for later," He grumbled, shifting so he was sitting up.

"You got a kitten?" She said through a mouthful of pastry. He sighed again.

Dick thankfully caught her up to speed and Tim was at least sharp enough to fill in the blanks when he walked in halfway through the explanation. He was also munching on something that looked suspiciously like Jason's signature sugar cookies. It took all he had not to sigh through his nose. This went on for some time before Alfred called them all to the foyer.

Jason felt his limbs start to fill with lead the closer he got to the foyer. Cringing, knowing that Bruce would be there. He knew it was weird that he hadn't see Bruce yet and a sinking suspicion told him that there was a reason for that. It made him feel even worse, that Bruce was being considerate. It was so much easier to stay angry at him, or at the very least indifferent when he was being a total prick. He cracked his neck, running threw his breathing exercises just before stepping over the threshold.

Bruce was waiting with a cup of coffee in one of his wing back chairs, his eyes twinkling and a less-rough expression settled on his features. Jason wasn't going to go as far to describe it as gentle. It was gentle in the way that sandpaper smoothed wood. His face did visibly soften when he saw Jason and he swallowed thickly. Not sure what to make of this or what to do with himself. God, they were all bad with emotions, but Jason and Bruce were among the worst.

Jason took the sofa with Steph and Dick, Tim settled on the floor in front of them while Damian took up residence next to his father. Alfred had already distributed the gifts and there was a tea tray settled on the coffee table in front of them. He reached forward, opting for the teapot full of hot chocolate in a futile attempt to stall.

Dick was already ripping open his presents while Tim and Damian were showing some more restraint. Steph just looked gleefully onward, hands wrapped around her favorite mug as she watched everyone erupt into livelihood and merriment. Jason felt his leg start to shake as a wave of anxiety washed over him. He swallowed, hard, feeling beads of sweat form at his hairline. He was jittery and he could feel his expression sour. Jason was so fed up with the response that Bruce elicited in him, hating how he could feel the dread pool in his stomach and his chest tighten the same way it did with Willis.

He cursed himself, hearing the absent chatter of the others fade out as he closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing technique as subtly as he could. Steph, Dick and Alfred were all there, so if Bruce tried to pull something (which Jason highly doubted, but his brain refused to fully believe that) they would absolutely kick his ass. The thought calmed Jason the slightest. He felt his shoulders slacken and the tightness in his chest slowly loosen.

He opened his eyes, taking a sip of his drink, watching as Dick torn into his Titans' wrapping paper, revealing the gorgeous lamé gold and the maroon red of the Flying Grayson's poster Jason had picked up in Paris. In an instant, robin's egg blue eyes met his, the most overwhelmed expression painted on his older brother's face. Their silhouettes' were solid gold, matching the lettering as they flew through the air. Jason swallowed thickly, trying to regain some control of his emotions. Tucked away, in one of the corners were Haly's circus tickets (not that Dick had ever needed them to be able to visit), in case he wanted to go (as a sort of rite of passage, Jason often thought) with the youngest of the Wayne clan who hadn't yet gone.

He could also go by himself, if he wanted.

Dick let out a strangled, "Thank you, Jay," while hugging the poster to his chest, his chin tucked over the top of it, much like how one would hug a child. Jason managed a small smile as he whispered, "Of course."

Tim's wasn't nearly as emotional. It hadn't really been planned that way, but from the wicked smile curving his lips, Jason could tell he was still wildly happy with the Red Robin skateboard he had gotten. Jason had gotten it custom ordered for the little bird, with the custom wheels Tim had been raving over for his electric board. There was also a bag of Turkish coffee tucked under the younger boy's elbow. He turned around, smile bright as he chirped, "Thanks Jay!"

He nodded, a smile barely visible over the lip of his mug. Steph looped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a hug as she opened her present. He mumbled, "I heard it was a superstition that you couldn't buy your own deck, so I hope the purple suffices."

"It's perfect, Jay, thank you," She said, turning the tarot cards around in her hands, examining the artwork and gently tapping her fingernails against the glossy exterior of the cardstock. He had also gotten her a pair of satin Versace heels at Kori's suggestion. She had said it would be cute for her to match with Cass the next gala they both attended. He had delivered those to her apartment, though. He could only take so much emotion before he started to short circuit. And he knew that Steph was uncomfortable about overt displays of wealth, so he figured it would be better if she could open them in her own time. Away from Damian, Bruce and Tim.

He watched as Damian popped open the antique box that held his present, his face didn't exactly light up but Jason figured the kid was trying to save face. The youngest bird had a reputation to uphold after all. He didn't look completely disgusted, which Jason was going to take as a win. He watched as Damian picked up one of the blades, admiring the ivory handles as well as the gold work that danced across the sheath. Bruce sent him a scowl and Jason shrugged as the younger boy pulled the blade out, examining the gold work on the blade that matched the pattern on the sheath. If Jason squinted, he could see a small smile on the younger Wayne's face.

Bruce's glare deepened. Probably thinking that Damian would use them as another weapon to assault various members of the household. They were are ornamental as they were deadly and Jason knew Damian would appreciate the art that went into producing such a beautiful blade, keeping it for aesthetic and historical purposes instead.

Jason knew, like Alfred, that Bruce wouldn't open his presents until he was in private. Unlike Alfred, who's aversion came from the debilitating need to uphold most of the rules of polite to society, instead it came from what Jason assumed was a complicated relationship with emotions.

Bruce always appreciated things with sentiment, which was always evident by the gifts that he gave to his children but also by the amount of touchstones Bruce kept in the cave. He wouldn't say that either of his gifts were sentimental or practical but he was hesitantly confident. Jason had also gotten him a gag gift, one of those novelty mugs he had picked up from Gotham’s tourist shops that read in big white letter ‘WORLD’S OKAYEST FATHER’. He had slapped on a Batman sticker for good measure. He was going to admonished for the Batman sticker, but who’s to say completely and totally normal civilian Bruce Wayne doesn’t have a favorite superhero? And that superhero just so happens to be Gotham city’s own? He had also gotten B a first edition printing of Journey to the West. It had cost a small fortune, but he knew the man would appreciate it.

Jason knew that the old butler had his eyes on a lovely cashmere sweater. He knew that the only reason that Alfred didn’t already have the thing was because he hadn’t mentioned it to Bruce. Jason was going to get it, of course. Alfred, like Kori, deserved nice things. He also knew that Alfie preferred Scottish cashmere to Mongolian, since it was so close to home. The butler was a little biased in that regard, but not much else. Jason knew Alfred wouldn’t allow him to give him a present, so he would have to sneak the sweater and his tea under the Brit’s own tree in Alfred’s apartment in the manor. Jason may have also slipped a pair of tickets to see a Gotham theater trope preform Macbeth in the new year. Just for good measure.

Jason set his mug on the coffee table, getting up to drop his two presents for Duke and Cass under the tree until they came back from their globetrotting. Of course, the tree happened to be right where Bruce was sitting and he was trying his best to ignore him, but Jason could never truly get what he wanted. Especially not on Christmas.

Bruce reached out to touch his arm, gentle as always, but it still scared the shit out of Jason. He didn't jump, but he stilled under his touch, waiting for the older man to talk.

It started out light, "Damian mentioned you rescued a kitten?"

He nodded, licking his lips, his mouth going Sahara desert dry. He sounded startled even to his own ears, "Yeah. I think I'm going to name him Bartholomew."

Bruce raised his eyebrow, removing his hand from Jason's bicep, slowly stating but obviously trying, "That's... very religious. For you."

"Theo for short." He responded, just as awkwardly.

"I see." Bruce paused, his eyebrows coming together, somehow the action accentuating the crows feet starting to form at the corners of his eyes, making the dent of a wrinkle in the center of his forehead even more prominent, "Not Bart?"

Jason snorted, "Like I'm going to name my cat after one of Tim's teammates."

"You always wanted a dog, I thought?"

Goddammit. This conversation was déjà vu. Jason willed himself to be patient, keeping the tone of his voice softer than he felt, "Yeah. I still do, but I couldn't really say no to the kitten."

"I see."

Jason nodded, crouching so he could slide the presents under the tree before standing up abruptly.

"It's good to see you," Bruce mumbled and Jason looked at him in shock. He could not keep doing this to him. He wanted to sigh through his nose, but the soft look that Bruce was giving him, almost pleading? Made his heart stutter as he fault to keep control of himself. He didn't say anything, just nodding jerkily before turning on his heel and going to slip Alfred's presents in the man's apartment. Definitely not also taking the out to go collect himself, no sir. Jason could play denial with just about anyone and win.

He re-emerged some time later, rejoining the festivities. He opened his own presents and ate a healthy sized breakfast before he made his awkward departure. A small, understanding smile from Bruce, a raised eyebrow from Alfred accompanied by a small frown, a hug from each of the rest aside from Damian, who offered up a sniff and a rather stiff goodbye.

He retreated to his bike with a cache of presents. An insanely expensive knife set from Alfred, expensive skin care from Steph, two Syrian crafted silver daggers from Damian (and tickets to see Titus Andronicus preformed), a suspiciously nice civilian watch that was no doubt also functional for a certain vigilante lifestyle from Tim, a rare collection of all of Shakespeare's published works that was leather bound along with a more contemporary book of poetry he had asked for from Bruce and a notebook full of collected recipes Dick had handwritten in painstaking detail (both interplanetary and intergalactic) that he thought Jason would like.

He collapsed onto his bike, stretching out for a few seconds and just staring off into the manor grounds. His heart was going a mile a minute, thrumming against the cage of his ribs feeling like it was on the verge of exploding. He felt the breeze pass through his curls, helping to calm him down the slightest bit. He shifted, heading back into the city.

He had managed to push aside most of the emotions causing him turmoil by the time he reached his apartment, boots heavy on the worn stairs. He was opting to bask in the thoughtfulness that was returned to him in his family's gifts, a small, reluctant smile tugging on his features. There was a small ding in his pocket when he reached the front door, his smile growing fonder. There was one from O that simply read, "Thank you" and a suspiciously large venus flytrap sitting on his welcome mat.

Tbh I bet a bunch of the Nordics just randomly go missing sometimes. I definitely think that it would freak others out at first but by now, they’re used to it. Norway goes into the forest. He spends days on end practicing new spells with the spirits and magical creatures that reside there. Denmark travels to Copenhagen. He likes to be around his people. Although he would never admit it, a part of him wishes he was never a great empire. He would love to live as a human for a while and simply exist just to exist. Sweden travels up north to places like Jukkasjärvi where it’s cold but peaceful. He likes to watch the sun rise over his camp in the morning. And Finland... well, nobody really knows where Finland disappears to. But of course if Iceland ever left without saying, all of them would lose their minds

Unpopular opinion:

Spain raised Romano and is a father figure to him.

Also Romerica is amazing change my mind

Iconic Brucie Wayne Lines:

“It’s good luck to spill a little with martinis.” — said right before spilling his entire cosmo in Lex Luthor’s lap

“Can I take this for my son?” — said about anything, including crime scene evidence, but said so charmingly that 80% of people just let him take whatever he’s holding

“Sorry I’m on the Bluetooth.” — said while gesturing to an ear that definitely does not have an earpiece, usually mid-conversation at a party

“No yeah, they get walks every day.” — said about his kids, no one can ever 100% tell if he’s joking

Council: Obi-Wan is too young to teach, Anakin is too old to learn, it's a recipe for disaster.

Kanan: Yeah well, I never became a knight, my apprentice is a heavily traumatized teenager who's being raised in a war zone, and yet while he's not perfect he hasn't fallen. It's a trick I call "a loving supportive environment" and "validation of his feelings".

Do you guys ever think about how Ahsoka must have felt when Anakin turned? Beyond just the feelings of guilt. I mean, she never got an explanation for why he turned. That “we’ll catch up later” turned into never, and for 14 years she thought he was dead. Until one day everything clicks together. You can’t tell me that Ahsoka wasn’t rightfully angry when she found out that *everything* she went through- the 10,000 Jedi slaughtered - the hundreds of thousands of clones that were turned into mindless slaves of the empire- the *children* that were murdered and sold and brainwashed- that she wasn’t angry. Because she went through hell and back only to find out that Anakin caused it. Somewhere in there she’s still a 16 year old child who was abandoned by the only people she called home. And she remembers that. And she remembers how *betrayed* she felt when she found out it was Barris who framed her. Of course she felt guilt, depression, and remorse, but she also had to live with the knowledge that her master (her brother) caused it.

say what you will, but berwald being gay is SO accurate...the sewing? the crafts? the swords? the log cabins? the trips to ikea? the living out in the woods, with nature? the painful yearning and pining? like, come on. that's prime gay culture right there. thank you ber for saying gay rights