#i wrote this very fast

[thepenultimateword]

Fright or Flight

CW: Blood, murder, death,

The air reeked of blood. A thick, metallic haze that hung over every centimeter of the gore splattered room.

Villain hid beneath a long, folding table, fist clenched tightly between his teeth to keep from gagging--or worse, whimpering--and exposing his hiding place. In his free hand, he clutched the bloodied end of his tattered half cape. In the chaos, he'd slipped in one of the pools of gore, a disturbingly warm and sticky experience, though the sopping cloth now left him shivering. From the fear or the cold, he wasn’t sure.

It had happened like that. One moment they were all bustling around HQ figuring out the logistics of Supervillain's newest scheme, the next moment, carnage.

This wasn't how Villain's first day was supposed to go.

"Don't. Don't." Supervillain choked around the hero's strangling grip. Villian peered far enough from his cover to see as she thrust the master criminal halfway out a window.

"And I should let you keep wreaking havoc because?" Her voice ran cold, as chilled as the ice water people claimed ran through her veins.

Superhero. Villain had heard about her. Horror stories for rookies he'd always assumed, but now...just looking at her...he wondered if those stories hadn't been understated.

"B-because I can get you information, keep you in the loop on other villains' schemes." Suddenly Supervillain grasped their pride again and broke into a loud snarl. "I'm an asset!"

Superhero scoffed, dropping one finger off Supervillain's collar to let him flail and sway. "You forget I know you. The moment I let you go, you'll either disappear and cause trouble somewhere else, or you'll scramble for your allies and attack me back tenfold. No. No loose ends. Aren't you the one who taught me that?"

"That wasn't-- Superhero, if you just listen!"

"Sorry, I don't make a habit of conversing with criminals."

And she dropped him.

The scream only lasted a couple seconds. As soon as he passed the top two floors, the wind lifted the shriek away as cleanly and crisply as if it'd never happened.

Villain's insides squeezed in on themselves, and he clutched hard at his gut as he slid further back against the wall. The last thing he needed was a shadow or a shoestring giving him away on Superhero's way out.

Or that had been the plan. Before his wet clothes decided to give a terrible squeak on the tile floor.

Villain froze. clenching either side of his half cape in both hands now and pulling it around him like a shield.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Superhero's red boots, stained darker from the blood, stopped right in front of his hiding spot. Now that Villain looked closer, it wasn't much of a hiding spot with the trail of blood leading right underneath.

Long auburn hair came into view first, the ends gathering together to tickle the floor, then a bloodied temple, and then those heart-stopping blue eyes. Like ice chips that somehow also burned.

Her gaze locked with his, and he flattened himself against the drywall. A fly in a web. A mouse on sticky trap. Prey backed into its hole.

"Who are you?" Superhero said. No real curiosity. Barely a speck of any feeling at all.

Villain swallowed, but that only served to paste the walls of his throat tighter together. "V-Villain..." he barely squeaked.

"Never heard of you."

"I-I'm...new. Today new."

"Unlucky day to start a job."

"Yeah."

Strong fingers seized him by the ankle and the next thing he knew, Superhero had dragged him on his back out into the open. The murderess stood over him, staring as if to peel him apart, and all he could do was stare back and pray the urge to kill didn't strike her.

She toed at his throat. "You're so fresh, I can practically smell the paint drying."

"I've done things!" Villain defended sharply. Idiotically. Why was he saying that? She didn't need to actually see him as a target and tear his head from his body! Just...for some reason the thought of her not taking him seriously was almost just as gut wrenching.

"Oh really? Such as?"

"Th-things. Bad things. I...I was hired by Supervillain."

Superhero raised her brow. "You want out alive, don't you?"

"Um...yes? If that's an option, I would very much like--"

"Then don't tempt me."

Another dry swallow, this time tagged with a sort of choking, dying animal sound. "Ok."

Superhero nodded. "My moral code doesn't allow mercy for a certain caliber of criminal. You seem mostly harmless. So I'll be going now."

Villain could only squeak in response.

Supervillain lifted the teasing-threatening pressure of her boot off his jugular and moved out of view, the light tap of her soles soon fading into nothingness.

For a long time, Villain couldn't move. His heart beat too rapidly and every muscle coiled so tightly that any attempt at getting up shot sharp cramps up his limbs.

In fact, it wasn't until Other Villain and her vultures came scrounging an hour later that he was able to--with some help--sit upright.

"How did you survive?" was the first thing out of Other Villain's mouth.

Villain shrugged. Even if he could get the words to come, he really couldn't say why the hero had chosen to question him out of everyone. Eventually, Other Villain had enough silence and pulled him against the wall to wait while her vultures went through stained shirts and pockets.

"Other Villain?" Villain called eventually, once they moved on to stealing larger items, like furniture and plans.

"Hm?" Other Villain said as she poured the contents of a desk drawer into her backpack.

"How does one get on Superhero's radar?"

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees s @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi i @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer mer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolaxe @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee

[furiosophie]

"I have read Twilight," Morpheus says some months later and Hob nearly spits out his sandwich.

can’t promise forever (but i’m working on it)

by furiosophie 

[read on ao3]

ship: dream of the endless | morpheus/hob gadling

words: 8339, completed 

tags: crack treated too seriously, hurt/comfort, fluff, a bit of angst bc ofc there is, slow burn, literal sleeping together, just that morpheus doesn't technically sleep, hob is trying very hard to figure out what morpheus actually is and somehow his reference of choice is twilight by stephenie meyer, morpheus on his part is not making it easier for him, this fic only works bc i headcanon that hob went to therapy at least once, not beta read we die like hob's son (going out swinging), morpheus talk about ur feelings instead of finding exceedingly dramatic ways to storm off challenge

[toxins-private-collection]

Our Names Rhymed

CW: none / By: me

I fell in love with the girl whose name rhymed with mine. 

I didn’t intend to but her eyes were like starlight,

And all wish to gaze upon the night sky.

I misheard the first time they said her name.

I thought they said mine, but mine couldn’t hold pastel colors

And twilight summers.

[bloggerspam]

Danny Phantom Masterlist

I realized I've accidentally become a Danny Phantom fic writer and I don't know what to do with this information...other than make a masterlist, i guess.

I add on parts via reblog, so I will put the lastest date when i update the link in MM.DD.YY format! (*) denotes completion, for now. Extras (ie. ** or ***) denotes bonus updates I hadn't planned on!

============================================

Magician!Danny AU - 9.27.23*

Danny learns sleight of hand and goes through Hijinks and Shenanigans. There are some DC offshoots where Zatanna is involved, with some inevitable angst from another user.

In the Interest of Medical Attention Addition - 10.02.23*

DCxDP - Red Hood goes missing. Danny, an eldritch horror tourist, just wants to be helpful. These two things are, unfortunately, related.

De-Aged Danny Angst Addition - 10.06.23*

DCxDP - Danny, having been capture and experimented on, gets de-aged with memory loss and some...physical complications. One of the Bats finds him. Dad!Dick Grayson implied.

Booo-merang Trouble Addition - 10.10.23

DCxDP - Jason gives off an ecto-signature, and tries to find a runaway/hiding/injured Danny in Gotham.

Baby Danny vs. The Joker Additions - 10.16.23*

DCxDP - De-aged Danny in a bat onesie wreaking havoc on the Joker for Funsies, and sort of getting adopted by Jason. There are a plethora of other reblogs that aren't included in the link, but this is where I've mentally stopped the AU at (personally). Highly recommend going through them for the fanart!

Candy Crush AU Additions - 10.31.23*

DCxDP - Additions written for @long-live-astronerd-ghost-king's Candy Crush AU. Dead on Main. LOTS of other reblogs that aren't included in the link, but this is where I've mentally stopped the AU at (personally).

Luck Rush AU Additions - 12.02.23*

DCxDP - Additions written for @virgamsysxvolumes's Lucky Rush AU. Please go read it, it's so good!!! I've also designed some stuff for this AU, but Vivi has released some official art for the AU in the masterlist too!

Phantom Siblings and the Batfam - 12.05.23*

DCxDP - Prompt fill: Danny and Ellie are de aged. Dan and Jazz are co-parenting as the older siblings. Completely unrelated, half the batfam are flirting independently at Jazz/Dan, and the other half are dealing with the chaos gremlins.

Super Strength Shenanigans - 12.10.23* [AO3]

DCxDP - When Danny gets an internship in Gotham, concerned for his and his identity's safety they figure out he has super strength he can't control for human-standard fights. Shenanigans ensue.

Horror Movie Child!Danny AU - 12.18.23* [AO3]

DCxDP - Danny is adopted into the batfam having a coming of age movie, whilst the Batfam are going through Summer Horror Special.

Puppy!Danny AU - 12.28.23* [AO3]

DCxDP - Danny is Ace the Bathound AU! With Bonus Dan as Titus, Dani as Haley/Bitewing, and Jazz as Sparky and Dog. There have been multiple tags for this, so please be warned you WILL cry at part 3. Now with meme post. Any additional non-story posts will be under "phantom pups" tag!

Villain!Jazz AU - 04.07.23* [AO3]

**Disclaimer, NOT Jazz centered and heavily DP leaning** After lots of thought this AU will be exclusively updated on AO3 from now on! Please subscribe to it on AO3 instead of following it here :)

He’s fine… right..? - 02.05.24** [AO3]

Two-shot psychological horror based off some fanart of Danny crying melty tears.

Casseroles and Confrontations Additions- 03.10.24

DCxDP - Batman sends a few of the Batfam to Amity Park to investigate the ghost sightings. When they get there, however, Jason refuses to step into the town due to some instinctual feeling he has. Check "#casseroles and confrontations" tag for non-story lore!

NOW WITH AMAZING FANART by @animal-123-crazy

MORE CUTE FANART by @jamiethebee

Kon-El and the Phantoms - 02.07.24

YJxDP - Young Justice, specifically Kon-El, meets their newest member, Phantom's clone. Who just so happens to be a big fan.

Mama Canary AU - 04.23.24 [AO3]

JLxDP - Suddenly de-aged Danny meet Black Canary and accidentally ghost-wails at her...except all it does is push her back a couple feet, and make her think he's the cutest lil' canary in the world.

Preschool Teacher Danny AU - 02.18.24 [AO3}

JLxDP - Clark comes across a meta-teacher with a class of seemingly meta toddlers. He asks if there's any room for Jon. Not sure if I will continue on Tumblr or continue on AO3, or both. Will update when I decide--this will probably be mostly ongoing as Naynay gives me more stories of her gremlins!

Sunshine and Stardust - 02.16.24 [AO3]

YJxDP - Danny is a clone of Superman AU, but he's a failure, a test dummy. Amidst the days of pain and experimentation, he hears another clone is being made.

Teen Titans and the Lost Boy Addition - 04.11.24

TTxDP - "After being on the run for a long time, Danny somehow stumbles his way into the middle of a fight. This leads to him joining the Teen Titans (much to his confusion)."

Thoughts about Death - 03.27.24*

"Do you ever think about how sacred life must be for Danny?" Oneshot.

Grunkle John AU - 04.23.24

JLxDP - Batman finds out that John Constantine is basically Danny Phantom(high level threat, ghost king)'s weird uncle. I tell you the story of how that came to be.

Phic Phight Phics:

Forgotten Fire: A little bit on who Ember McLain was, when she was alive. Complete.

Open Secrets: Everyone knows AU. (except, Danny doesn't know they know). Ongoing. 04.20.24

[ragnarokhound]

((you don’t have to do both if you don’t want to, you can consider this one a back up / alt))

“If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” 💞

From this writing prompt list i reblogged in...november lmao fljdsjfa

anyway this grew legs and sprinted away the second I picked it up yesterday - clearly it just needed some time to proof lmao. Thank you for the ask, tauria!! From *checks watch* almost 5 months ago fjdslafjsa I will be cross-posting it to Ao3 in my new oneshot collection fic :)

Warnings for: Vague allusions that Ra's Al Ghul is a creep (what else is new), threats of gun violence, canon-typical violence

15. “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.”

When Tim arrived in Gotham this morning, he had no way of knowing that his day would end in Jason Todd’s bed. 

Frankly, he wasn’t really sure what bed he’d end up in— because his own certainly wasn’t an option right now. But If he had to pick, Jason Todd’s was somewhere near the bottom of whatever list he’d make.

He didn’t exactly plan on this, okay? 

But, uh. Let’s back up a little.

—

Tim knew his day was going to go to shit when he got back from the airport at 7 AM.

He had his driver drop him off two blocks away from his townhouse for the sake of caffeine at the hole in the wall place he likes. Wealthy CEO he may be, but a sixteen hour flight is still a sixteen hour flight and Tim is cursed with an inability to sleep in the air. 

Don’t ask. He’s tried. It doesn’t work.

So he wants coffee, and he wants a shower, and he wants his own bed. In that order.

With the first thing on his list acquired and blessedly burning his tongue, he managed to tug his brain cells together enough to realize that the building they’d passed that had been shrouded in tents and canvas was his building.

"What's going on here?"

The worker outside his building looks up from her clipboard, her face wrinkling into apprehensive confusion.

"Hello, sir. Can I help you?”

He hasn’t slept in roughly seventy two hours. He is not awake or patient enough for this.

“My name is Tim Drake. I own this building. What’s going on here?” He repeats.

The woman raises her eyebrows and looks down at her clipboard again. “Mr. Drake?” She questions, clearly expecting him to look like a grown-ass man and not a sleep-deprived college student coming home from spring break or whatever.

“Yes. Timothy Drake-Wayne. Why are you—” he tries to gesture with the hand still holding his suitcase handle, walking towards the tarps and tents erected around his townhouse with increasing trepidation, “—here?”

“I’m sorry sir, but you can’t go in there. Not for at least forty-eight hours.”

Tim stops in his tracks.

“Forty-eight—?”

“We've been scheduled to fumigate the property today.” She says it like she’s reading it out of a handbook. “It won't be safe to enter the building for at least forty-eight hours. You should have received prior notice. Uh. Sir.”

Tim's jet-lagged brain kicks into overdrive. 

Bruce hasn't made any disappointed noises about Tim’s perfectly normal work ethic lately so it probably wasn't a misguided attempt at benching him. And besides, rendering Tim’s apartment inaccessible is counterproductive on that front. 

Dick wouldn’t. They haven’t been exactly— great, lately but he wouldn’t. Besides, if he wanted to get Tim out of the house more, he’d show up to drag Tim out into the daylight himself. This is a little too roundabout for him.

It’s too much work to be Steph. She would think it’s funny, but there’s no way she’d follow through.

Damian might, but this doesn’t quite fit his preferred methods for making Tim’s life hell. It could be some cloak and dagger maneuver to leave him vulnerable, faking a complaint to the city so he’ll—

And then Tim thinks about the call.

The call he’d brushed off at fuck o’clock in the morning somewhere over Europe, too busy with another project. The call his secretary took for him instead. He thinks about the distracted confirmation he’d given to whatever it was she’d asked him about five minutes later. 

He also thinks about the form he signed about two weeks ago, before this last minute trip to Hong Kong had consumed his entire attention. The one with “Two Weeks Notice” stamped across the top. His stomach sinks.

“Today,” he repeats.

She looks apologetic. “Today,” she confirms. “And we just started about an hour ago. I’m very sorry, Mr. Drake-Wayne but—”

"No it's—" he says through gritted teeth, "fine. I'll just. Make other arrangements."

—

He does not make other arrangements. Though not for lack of trying.

Tim has a handful of safehouses scattered throughout the city. He has options. He gets a taxi to the closest neighborhood, and nearly falls asleep in the backseat. The cabby has to knock on the glass divider to get his attention when they come to a stop. He grumbles and hauls his suitcase out of the backseat, and tips the man excessively.

Shower. Bed. Sleep. He’s so close he could cry.

Except when he finally rolls around the block, coffee half gone and trying to remember if this safehouse is the one with in-unit laundry or if he’ll have to haul his shit down to the laundry room, his building is a blackened husk with police tape all around it.

He stops on the sidewalk. He peers up at the window of his unit, squinting at the peeling black wood and shattered glass. He ponders whether two is enough data points to be considered a pattern. And whether he could get away with napping in the alley on this street or if that’ll end with him stabbed and robbed.

As he’s pondering, he catches sight of a passerby and stops him.

“‘Scuse me,” he says apologetically. “What the hell happened here?”

The guy looks up from his phone and takes in his rumpled clothes, his suitcase, and the scorched remains of his apartment.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, there was a big fire about a week back? Bad fire. Took out, like, half the block. Cops are saying it’s arson.”

“A week ago,” Tim repeats. The guy’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit, bro, did you live here?”

“I’ve been out of town,” he explains numbly.

“Dude, that sucks. And right in the middle of con’ season. Good luck finding a hotel!”

“Yeah,” Tim sighs as the guy walks away. “Thanks.”

—

The next safehouse he tries isn’t in much better shape. 

He remembers hearing about Freeze going on a rampage a few days into his trip, but he hadn’t realized another one of his places had been caught in the cross-fire. The cold burst the pipes, and now the whole place is undergoing renovation.

He hears all this from the crotchety old lady who lives in the next building over (her building needs renovation too, but will the city pay for it? Of course not, they weren’t ‘directly impacted by disaster’ so they won’t see a penny of relief funds even though their pipes are on the same line. Typical) and when he finally extricates himself from the conversation, it’s almost noon, his second cup of coffee is long-since empty and he’s at the end of his goddamn rope.

By the time he sees his next safehouse, he isn’t even surprised anymore.

“Does God hate me?” He asks the boarded up building. “Is this a punishment? What did I do? What the fuck did I do?”

He is 99% sure at this point that someone is burning his bolt holes. There’s a short list of people with the resources and the intel to do it, and while he’s not above ruling out the likes of Damian just yet, he seriously doubts anyone wearing a bat is behind this. 

Besides, Dick would have noticed by now if Damian were sinking this many resources into convoluted covert ops designed to make Tim suffer. Definitely. Probably.

Fuck it.

He goes around the back and hops on top of his suitcase to reach the clunky camera watching the back entrance. This building is on the shittier side, closer to Crime Alley than his other haunts; cameras break all the time around here. He’ll have it replaced after he’s a functional human again.

Reportedly, this building was tagged for ‘high toxicity levels’—  which is pretty typical for any building where fear toxin or Joker gas are found in any amount. They must have found a lot to condemn the whole building, but Tim is confident he’ll be fine. The airborne shit dissipates to safe levels within hours depending on the ventilation. If it was in the air, it’s long gone. Anything else needs to be injected to be effective.

Once the camera’s busted, he kicks out the boards and heads inside.

He drags his suitcase in after him, and mourns the shower he probably won’t be getting. The hall lights are out, and chances are the water’s been shut off along with the electricity. But at this point, he simply does not give a shit. All he wants are four walls and a mattress.

Leaning on the door to his floor to make it open, he stumbles out into the hallway—

And catches sight of the glistening curved dagger stabbed into the wall next to his door, the hilt gleaming green in the sinking sun.

“Nope,” Tim says, spinning on his heel and going back down the stairwell double time. “Nope, nope, nope.”

He is now 100% certain that the League of Assassins has been burning his bolt holes. Ra’s al fucking Ghul can eat his whole ass.

—

Seven blocks away, Tim sits on the sidewalk in front of a bodega and contemplates a third cup of coffee. The shittiest one yet.

See, here’s the thing.

The thing is, he has options.

He could go to the Manor. Or the penthouse. Or to Steph’s place. He’d have to answer some unnecessary questions like ‘Master Timothy, you know you can’t sleep on aircraft, why didn’t you sleep before your flight’ or ‘Tim, why didn’t you come here first, you know you can still come to me if you’re in trouble, right’ or ‘why did you agree to fumigate your fucking house, you loser, lmao’. (Stephanie is not going to let him live this down). 

He is absolutely certain that he would be welcomed in any of these places and after a completely undeserved amount of fussing, he could take a fucking nap and someone else would deal with the League bullshit for him.

And that’s the thing. There’s the rub.

No one should have to deal with the League bullshit for him. This is his problem. He’s not in a hurry to bring them down on anyone. Not even Damian.

With grim resignation, he reaches for his phone to try and find a hotel room (during a con’ weekend apparently, RIP) and maybe get a fucking handle on this whole stupid thing, when he hears:

“Hand over your wallet!”

He lifts his head slowly and finds himself looking down the barrel of a gun. A gun held by some guy wearing a ski mask in broad fucking daylight. There’s another guy next to him who’s watching the street. There’s a third guy somewhere behind him who he can’t see, but he can hear the scuff of his boots.

Sure. Why not. With the day he’s had, this might as well happen. He holds up his hands placatingly.

Tim contemplates his muggers. The guy with the gun is jittery, probably new to this, or hopped up on something. He keeps glancing between Tim and the bodega behind him, so they were probably planning a run on the till. Might have chickened out, or thought Tim was an easier target, an unexpected meal ticket plopped right in their path. Or they were already inside when Tim sat down, which wouldn’t bode well for his situational awareness seeing as he just came out of there himself.

The grinding gears of his tired brain keep getting caught on the fact that this is happening in the middle of the fucking day. Tim glances at the street corner and bites his cheek in frustration. Yeah, he’s smack dab in the middle of the Alley. Figures.

“Are you deaf or somethin’ man?” The guy with the gun is saying. “Hand over your fucking wallet!”

The other guy doesn’t seem as crazy-eyed. He’s nervous, though. He keeps looking around like he’s expecting Batman to materialize, to come whistling down the street like a beat cop.

“Dude, come on, it’s not fucking worth it,” he says, grabbing at the gunman’s shoulder. “We got the money, let’s fucking go.”

The third guy kicks over Tim’s suitcase. “Yeah, come on, Don, let’s just grab this shit and bounce.”

Tim can’t do anything. He’s not Red Robin right now. He’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, and he’s getting mugged in front of a bodega at two in the afternoon in a rumpled suit and tie and still toting his suitcase from his early morning flight. 

His hands are trembling from unspent adrenaline, too much caffeine, and not enough sleep. His eyelids are the heaviest they’ve ever been in his godforsaken life. His ears are ringing. He could knock all three of them down in less time than it takes to tie his shoelaces. But he can’t.

“Shut up, Johnny, look at him shaking! What’s he gonna do? If he doesn’t wanna get shot, rich boy’s gonna hand over all his fucking shit!”

“Hey, let’s just—” Tim tries to say.

Stars explode across his vision as Tim takes a punch he genuinely wasn’t expecting. He stares up at the blue sky for about half a second, more confused than anything else, before the gunman grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him up to shout in his face.

“What’s it gonna be, pretty boy?!”

Caught on the exhausted edge between vigilante training and the preservation of his identity, Tim is frozen. He doesn’t know what to do. He kind of wants to cry.

“Gee, Donny, what is it gonna be?” A fourth voice says, full of false cheer.

Tim blinks. So do the muggers. 

He knows that voice.

“Who the fuck—?” The gunman drops Tim, spinning around and into a fist. He tumbles down to the ground, out cold.

Everything happens pretty quickly after that.

Jason Todd is in civvies. He’s sporting a worn out looking hoodie and a pair of jeans that have seen better days. But his heavy boots are the same ones he wears for his uniform, and the kick he delivers to Johnny’s face is all Red Hood.

Almost in a daze, Tim watches him fight with the usual mix of seething envy and raw desire that rears its ugly head any time he gets to see Jason in action. He’s fast, decisive. Efficient. Beautiful. Tim wishes he had Jason’s skill. And he wishes— 

Well. He wishes a lot of things about Jason Todd.

Tim is pretty sure he and Jason are friends. Maybe. Probably. They’ve pretty much moved past the whole “replacement”, “zombie-dickhead” part of their relationship and have graduated to occasionally providing backup on ops that overlap in each other’s sectors, ganging up on Dick when they’re all in the same room, and maintaining a surprisingly steady stream of vigilante gossip to keep each other in the loop. 

So, ok, yes, due to the aforementioned, he’s pretty sure they’re friends. And also because Jason wouldn’t have stuck his neck out for him otherwise. He would have just let him get mugged.

Watching Jason fight is one of Tim’s favorite pastimes. But right now, Tim’s usual appreciation is soured by the gut-roiling embarrassment of being caught in this position by Jason of all people. His eyes itch. His cheek throbs. He’s so fucking tired.

“Hey, little stalker,” Jason says suddenly, holding out an expectant hand in Tim’s face. The muggers are groaning on the ground around them. Tim isn’t sure when that happened. He might have zoned out. “Did you know that you had a stalker for a change?”

Tim flushes. “I resent that. I haven’t stalked anyone in years.” He takes the hand. It’s warm, and calloused, and big around his.

Jason laughs at him and yanks him to his feet. “Liar.”

Tim’s mouth twists into a scowl. He tries to glare at Jason, but he can feel himself swaying and Jason still hasn’t let go of him, and it’s ruining everything.

Also, lowkey, Jason is right. But in his defense, it is literally their job to stalk people, so.

“I haven’t stalked you in years then. Just other guys. Bad guys. Not non-bad guys. Fuck. You know what I mean. Whatever.” He pauses; recalibrates. “Had?” He asks.

Jason’s eyebrows inched higher and higher the longer Tim talked. Tim doesn’t blame him.

“Yeah. Had.” 

So much for the League, Tim muses.

Jason gives him a once over before tugging decisively on Tim’s wrist, easily grabbing the handle of his suitcase and starting to walk with both in tow, to Tim’s rising horror. 

“You’re coming with me, shortstack. What’s wrong with you? Are you drunk? You look like shit.”

Tim tries to yank his wrist out of Jason’s grip, but the asshole doesn’t budge. “I’m not drunk,” Tim snaps. “I’m fine. I’m just. I’m just… really tired.”

Jason stops abruptly, and Tim stumbles into his shoulder.

“I can see that,” he says, steadying Tim with an amused but ultimately sympathetic look. He loads Tim’s suitcase onto the back of a motorcycle that Tim literally just now noticed. 

God, he’s fucked. And not even in a fun way. 

“C’mon,” Jason says. “Don’t fall asleep on the way over— road rash sucks ass.”

—

They don’t talk on the way to— wherever Jason is taking them, but once they’re parked in a random garage and walking towards the elevators, the game of twenty questions begins.

“So why’ve you got League assassins after you, anyway? Piss in a lazarus pit? Push over the baby brat on the playground?”

“Ra’s al Ghul wants my body,” Tim says, dejected but resigned to this bizarre fact of his life. “Since I was seventeen, I’m pretty sure.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. “Ew.”

“I don’t think it’s a sex thing? But it could also be a sex thing.”

“Again. Fucking ew.”

“Yeah. Also I blew up a bunch of his shit and I think he’s still salty I got away with it.”

“Is that why you weren’t at the Manor?” Jason asks, herding Tim out of the elevator and down a long hallway. “Or anywhere but a random street in Crime Alley?”

Tim nods. “Yeah. They found all my safehouses, but— my mess. My problem.”

Jason thwacks him upside the head.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

“You’re the dumbest person on the planet.”

“Am not. B is on-planet right now.”

“Then you’re pretty fucking close,” Jason snarks, fishing out some keys and opening one of the apartment doors.

Tim scoffs at him as he’s pushed inside. “Oh, please. Don’t try to tell me you would let Dick swoop in and solve all your problems for you.”

Jason rolls his eyes, stepping into the side kitchen and popping open the freezer door of the fridge.

“Dickiebird can’t even solve his own problems,” he says as he rummages. “But maybe when I’m fucked up enough to let three nobodies robbing a fucking bodega get the jump on me, that’s a sign that, maybe, it might be time to call in the cavalry. Dick isn’t the only person who’s got your back.” He presses an ice pack to Tim’s face until he takes it himself, and keeps steering him through the apartment. “Just saying.”

Tim would protest with all of his very good reasons why Jason is definitely wrong here, but he’s too busy processing the fact that Jason has led him into a bedroom. With a bed. There’s a bed, with a mattress and pillows and blankets. Right there. Tim stares at it with lustful eyes.

Jason catches him staring. He rolls his eyes, but he’s sporting a small smile that Tim has the presence of mind to memorize. He walks over to a dresser and pulls out a big shirt and a pair of shorts that he hands to Tim.

“Look. If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here. No guarantees I’ll be always around, but, yeah. Mi casa es su casa, or whatever.”

Tim eyes him up, clutching the bundle of Jason-smelling fabric in his hands. “And you’d do that for me because…why, exactly?”

Jason flicks his forehead, a stinging reprimand. Tim hisses.

“Because, dumbass, you need help and I feel like it. And you don’t actually suck to be around, so shut up and be grateful.”

“Oh, yes,” Tim deadpans, rubbing at his forehead. “So grateful to be allowed the privilege of squatting with you.”

The thing of it is, Tim is grateful. But Jason doesn’t need to know that.

Jason squawks, and before Tim can duck, he’s snatched Tim around the neck in a headlock. His arm is thick and doesn’t budge no matter how Tim shoves and kicks. The ice pack and the clothes go flying, and Tim just about dies. Jason is warm.

“Jason—!”

“Brat!” Jason crows, not giving an inch. “I paid for this place fair and square— you’re the only squatter here!”

“Blood money doesn’t count as square!”

“Tell that to half of Gotham, kid.”

“I’m trying to, thanks for noticing,” Tim says, finally wrenching himself free of Jason’s grip, stumbling into the bed and giving into its siren song. He sits down heavily on the edge, toppling over sideways and reaching pathetically for the fallen ice pack that’s just out of his reach.

“And don’t call me kid—” he complains, muffled by the pillow. It also smells like Jason. “You’re barely two years older than me.”

The cold ice pack is pressed into his fingers. He cracks an eye open to look, but Jason is just smirking at him, like he’s giving Tim the win. Ass.

“Coulda fooled me, shortstack.”

Tim rolls his eyes, and onto his back, toeing off his shoes and letting them clatter to the floor. He can’t tell if Jason’s bed is the best bed in the world, or if he’s just deliriously inventing things.

Frankly, Jason Todd’s bed is the last place he ever thought he’d end up, this morning or otherwise, so he’s never bothered to speculate. He does not have a contingency plan for this.

“Is there a reason you keep calling me short,” he complains, “Or will I just need to fill in the blanks myself?”

“Can’t help it. You’re just so small,” Jason coos. Tim props himself up on an elbow at that, raising a disgusted eyebrow.

“You don’t hear me constantly talking about how big you are.” 

Jason grins like he just won the lottery; Tim shuts his eyes the second it’s out of his mouth.

“Baby, you don’t know how big I am.”

He does, actually. Not in a creepy stalker way, just— there was this one time. A big rogue breakout at Arkham, all-hands on deck type of situation; Tim, Cass, and Jason were covering Poison Ivy in the park. Acid-spitting pitcher plants were involved.

And look, Jason’s tactical gear is fine in the day to day, but it’s not like any of them had time to prep a neutralizing agent, so when Jason needed his pants off, stat…uh. Well. Tim was right there.

He knows, okay?

“Alright,” he rallies, trying desperately not to replay the memory of Jason adjusting himself through his boxers. All of himself. “I walked right into that one.”

“Oh, trust me. You’ll know if you’ve walked into it.”

Tim scoffs, but he can feel how red his face is.

And the thing is. He says it without really meaning to. 

But he still means it.

“You gonna put your money where your mouth is, big guy?”

The change is immediate. Jason had been halfway out the door, but now he turns to Tim, giving him his full, undivided attention. He looks at Tim, laid out in Jason's bed, giving him a very slow once over. The scrutiny is at once nerve-wracking and thrilling.

“Thought you didn’t want my money,” Jason murmurs.

The temperature in the room spikes. If it weren’t for the slow throb of his bruised cheek, Tim would think that he’s already asleep and dreaming.

But he isn’t. He’s very much aware that he’s wide awake.

Tim swallows. “Well. It’s not your money I want.”

Jason’s grin is electric. 

He stalks over to the bed, and Tim is frozen like a rabbit, waiting to see what he’ll do next. Jason settles a knee on the sheets between Tim’s legs, looming over Tim and boxing him in against the mattress. Tim’s free hand reaches up of its own accord to tangle in the collar of Jason’s hoodie, and the cotton is softer than he expected.

Jason’s eyes rove over his face, dark and heavy. He catches Tim’s face in his hand, swiping his thumb lightly across the bruising hot ache of his cheekbone. He leans in deliberate and slow and—

—and stops about an inch away from Tim’s mouth.

“Get some sleep, babybird,” Jason teases, his breath puffing gently over the skin of Tim’s lips. “You can proposition me again tomorrow.”

“It’s, like, 3:30 in the afternoon,” Tim argues, breathless.

“Yeah, and your body thinks it’s 3:30 in the morning. You’re dead on your feet. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, and go the fuck to sleep.”

Jason moves to rise. But Tim hooks a stubborn arm around his neck and pulls him down that last remaining inch. 

The kiss is— bad. At first. 

Tim basically smashed their mouths together to prove a point, and Jason muffles a surprised sound against Tim’s teeth. He lands heavily on top of Tim at an awkward angle, and he’s kind of crushing him. Tim refuses to let go, but— Jason doesn’t pull away.

Jason gentles the kiss instead, and Tim thrills. He levers himself up onto his elbow, wrapping an anchoring arm around Tim’s back. He finds a home between Tim’s legs, and he lets Tim kiss him until Tim's lips are tingling and his fingers go slack; until he can’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Somewhere between fifteen minutes and a small eternity later, Jason presses one more kiss to the corner of his mouth. He curls around Tim on his side, and Tim turns his face into Jason’s neck with a soft wondering sigh.

“I’ll keep it. Promise. Wait n’ see,” Tim mumbles. Jason snorts, but doesn’t budge, and Tim can hear his smile in his voice, lilted and lulling.

“Sure, babybird. I’ll wait. I got nowhere else to be.”

Tim is already asleep.

[sherbetyy]

i’m very desperate for dhmis content so i made some up myself for a potential season 2….. which one would you guys like to see most? (this is real ok poe jelling told me)

[mudefrau]

sometimes i check my tags and it got me thinking fsr of how the elphaba/nessa dynamic in the musical and in the book have entirely different vibes...

book: elphaba finds the pill bottle by the end of the book when nessa is already dead. nanny (who got it for melena herself) says something like "melena wanted so badly not to have another green girl that she ate these things like no tomorrow, if someone was to blame for her condition it's probably you".

musical: elphaba knows the story of the milkflowers. most likely frex told her to put the blame on elphaba and "justify" why he hates her. in popular she feels deeply guilty. and likely has never told nessa because if she had, nessa would surely have brought it up in the wicked witch of the east scene, some sort of "i'm like this because of you and you never thought about undoing the harm!"

so in conclusion musical elphie carries this guilt all her life, and she confesses this to glinda but never gets to tell the person she (thinks she) directly affected. funny because a big theme in the book is elphie asking for forgiveness but getting her apologies rejected, which mirrors what happened to frex with turtle heart's death.

and whether it was a conscious choice, theatrical exaggeration or simply because there's no nanny, musical elphie is more protective and openly shows care for her respective nessa. book elphie could call nessa the b-word in casual conversation, musical elphie would never even in the most heated argument lol.

i don't necessarily prefer one dynamic to the other... one is cuter and the other is more interesting imo. but yeah context matters!

[fabdante]

the one about vergil being jealous of dante

i would like to share my girlfriends theory about vergils thoughts during that bridge scene for mission 7 which i full heartedly agree with

so im talking about the one at the bridge. kat just told dante her whole deal and dante and her are cool now. they meet vergil at the bridge and tell dante about how he needs to break into bob barbas jail. vergil says kat can't go, dante says shes done enough, she warns him about this situation, dante says it'll be lovely and winks at her before going

and vergil just...stares at kat

he just stares at kat

the camera specifically pans to him and holds on him staring at kat. so its important to ninja theory that we see this moment, that we see vergil looking at kat here. we are meant to get something out of this.

according to my very lovely and very smart and very talented girlfriend who is also very enlightened and got me to ship vergil and kat, a possibility here is this is when vergil's mindset shifts.

let me explain.

(i also talk about this in my really long post, the really long list of kat and vergil things )

prior to this mission, kat kind of really does not like dante. this is very clear to me with like...most of their interactions and her body language. she doesn't like it when he waves a gun in her face. she doesn't like it when he makes her job difficult and tries not to go with her. she doesn't like how he talks about humanity (she goes to argue with him about this until vergil stops her, which she also does not like). she doesn't like that he doesn't take her seriously when he asks her about her spells (then proceeds to wipe his fingers off on her). she doesn't like that when she tries to tell him things will be rough in limbo at paradise that he looks at her, says he 'likes it rough', then winks. she really does not like that one, we see her collect herself after this moment before she proceeds to talk to vergil because she does not like it. she does not seem to like how he's not taking a lot of things seriously. she does not like the confused tone he takes when he questions her going to limbo to escape her 'nightmares' (code word for kat's abusive household) because he doesn't understand how things could be worse for her then limbo.

and it's fair to note that there are moments between these moments where they get along! they have a bonding moment in mission 4 about her learning how to do spells and how the cans remind dante of spray cheese (also notable she's talking about vergil in this scene also, but i digress). they have another bonding moment in virility where they talk about their similar backstories.

but its also important to note she is often frustrated with him at this point in the game. and even more important that vergil knows that she's frustrated with dante. the singular conversation we see between kat and vergil in the game is about how kat doesn't trust dante and she finds him frustrating. this was so important for us to know it is the singular scene kat and vergil have alone in the entire game and we get it in the second mission of the game. she asks vergil if he thinks this will work because she thinks it won't, because she distrusts dante so much after just having met him she's doubting this whole plan they put together.

i've rambled enough though my point is this. kat does not like dante for a good chunk of the early game and she does not trust him.

but by the point of the bridge, she does.

it's fair to say the game is, in part, about dante and kat's relationship. it's about dante learning how to trust kat. but he does that pretty quick, the bigger part is dante getting kat to trust and like him. which he seems to figure out very quickly she does not. you can see it in the fact that he stops making comments like he does after mission 2. he instead focuses on trying to get to know her.

now, this i think ties into my meta on mission 19 where i talked about how dante is smarter then we give him credit for. certainly some of this is him trying to figure out the situation he's found himself in and kat is an in to learn about that situation. he's correctly deduced that kat and vergil are close, so kat is very close to this organization and the plan and probably knows a lot about this whole thing so he can learn about it through her.

but he also seems to genuinely want kat to trust and like him, given he is from very early on, pretty vulnerable with her. he tells her about his childhood before she gives him the details on hers and everything. he realizes to get her to trust him, he needs to trust her.

which gets us to the car scene.

i've talked about the car scene in my really long 'every single kat and vergil moment' list post. but i'm going to do that again here from a slightly different angle, that being the dante and kat relationship growth angle.

this scene is key because its where kat finally decides to trust dante.

she finally lets her walls down (kats theme playing, her hood coming down, all those fun little cues) and she tells him about her past, about vergils role in it, and about her goals. it's an interesting scene. i mean dante flat out tells her he trusts her and he wants her to trust him. he flat out tells her that he wants to know about her, and also vergil. he flat out tells her she can trust him to finish this with her. he's very upfront, he's very vulnerable, and he's very honest, something kat seems to resonate with.

i think up to this point we're seeing a slow progression of kat getting to know dante, getting to know how they're similar (in both conflicting and complimenting ways), and relating to the fact they had similarly traumatic experiences in their lives.

dante is not like vergil. he lacked the privilege's vergil clearly grew up in with his wealth, both adopted into and self made, and just the general stability of his up bringing. dante and kat have a lot in common in this way, it's a lot to relate to that vergil just...can't understand, not on that level. and like i said there's a lot of similarities with kat and dante, vergil flat out compares them in the aforementioned mission 2 scene ('he's raw. like you were when i first found you' or whatever the direct quote is).

so, this is where we are at with the bridge scene.

this is all that's happened.

from vergil's point of view he, notably, knows directly that kat does not trust or exactly like dante. he knows this has been hard for her. he knows that kat and dante are similar people. he knows that kat and dante just spent a lot of time together.

he knows there are just some things about both kat and dante that he is just never going to understand.

and then we get to the bridge. we get to the bridge and kat and dante are getting along swimmingly. dante is protecting her, saying she's done enough, that he doesn't need her to come with him. dante winks at her and kat doesn't do anything in response (unlike the last time dante did something like that). they're, fairly suddenly, fine. especially if we assume, as ninja theory implies, this is right after the drive and this is the first time vergil's talked to either of them since the phone call in the car.

for vergil, this is probably...very jarring, say the least. you go from kat having to calm herself down before she talks to you when dante tries to flirt with her, to her just being largely indifferent when he winks at her.

i've said before that, to me, vergil's downfall recontextualizes the entire kat/vergil relationship we see in game. because vergils downfall very loudly asserts that in some way he cared for her. he cared for her more then he cared about anyone else. we know this because when he's asked what he'd change, what would he do differently, the only thing vergil thinks of is his relationship with kat. that is it. that's the only thing that comes to his mind. we know this because the first third of vergil's downfall is him trying to save kat, again, with no hesitation. we know this because kat is the only figure in vergil's downfall he tries to explain himself to and she is the only person he has to turn into a monster before he can kill them. we know this because hollow vergil tells vergil that everyone he cared for, everyone he loves, hates him now and that includes kat.

it doesn't matter what way he cares about her, selfishly, platonically, romantically, whatever. he cared about her. in some way he loves her.

which brings me back to this moment were vergil stares at kat after dante leaves. this long hold of the camera while he does nothing but look at her, suspect.

and we get to my girlfriends theory that this is the moment where everything changed for vergil.

vergil's motives are...mysterious to us, say the least. we know he wants to save mankind, according to him. we know he makes some points that make sense (someone has to be in charge of the demons but who said it needed to be him). we know that, the biggest issue, is him lying to the others and his general regard of humans as weak despite everything kat does.

my girlfriend posits in this moment, vergil convinces himself that something is happening with kat and dante and he gets jealous. that he thinks he can't compete with his brother for kat (in whatever way, romantic or platonic) and that he no longer trusts either of them in the way he did before. he wants to, but he doesn't. this is the moment his focus shifts to the plan above all else, and this is the mentality we see him remain in for the rest of the game. and that it's here that he decides not to tell them about the ruling mankind plan (me and my girlfriend argue this plan develops during the game for him, but its fair to argue that he may have come up with it before the events of the game. it's also fair not to agree with me about any of this, it's a game from 2013 about killing demons like...it's fine)

we have evidence of this, also in downfall. it's the way hollow kat and hollow dante talk to him.

kat emphasizes that dante is a real man, and vergil is not. she emphasizes that she prefers dante, stoking fears vergil seems to have because its these escalating talking points about dante that lead to her turning into a demon. dante, similarly, stokes at vergil feeling inferior to him. he emphasizes vergil being the 'little' brother (if he means younger or if he means something else, up to you to decide). he points out how he'll always be the better one, the stronger one, the more powerful one. all culminating to him also being killed off.

i think the game is making a very clear point in this, all starting with that stare.

vergil wants to love his brother, he probably does, he's his brother after all. he even says in the game and hollow vergil's point still stands.

but he is also jealous of dante. there's a lot of jealousy about dante. and i think that jealousy fuels a lot of his actions and this moment, that stare on the bridge, is the moment that it really starts. when vergil sees dante as a threat to this relationship he has with kat and he just no longer trusts the two the same as he had before mission 7.

my girlfriend has always argued this and i think she's very right and very smart.

[bloodydeanwinchester]

and when i say "typical" and "good" i mean what is the average for you to get written when you aren't having like an off day or something. not what you write on your best day...just like a normal day.

also do you consider yourself to be a fast or slow writer???

[allamericanb-tch]

taylor swift wrote all the young dudes, no one believed it was really her, and then she wrote the great war to prove them wrong. 

[cboffshore]

"I hear the sea, it roars/and I want out of here." - Coeur de Pirate, "Our Love"

For #quins1kdtiys: ol' reliable couture art meets a proper model in "And That's All We Are".

(Writeup under the cut, as usual. Minor Dragons Rising part 2 spoilers there, by the by, but you'll see them coming. I'll let you know.)

Congratulations on 1k, @quintastiic! I hope this does that milestone some justice.

I've done Skybound couture work before; I've done Nya analysis before. Somehow, I have never blended them, and this DTIYS gave me the perfect chance to try that out.

For the first time in my fashion fanart history, I'm not using a boilerplate mannequin - I got my hands on one of those IKEA artist figurines and decided, well, if there's any time to try and draw someone, let's start with a favorite. I'm not hiding behind a standard template here.

For the most part, this is a simple urban riff on Nya's Skybound gi: a black velvet vest and fingerless gloves over a crimson blouse, paired with bright combat boots and flared jeans. A durable ensemble, I like to believe this base of blended aesthetic represents what Nya spends the first five seasons building herself up to be: well, herself. She scrapped a mech and her own role together - and built a legacy in the process. In one way, that's all she is: everything she's crafted so far.

Overtaking the outfit, though, is a cropped leather jacket with a sheer train designed to resemble waves.

It doesn't match the base at all - it glows. It floats. It almost seems alive with motion and light, but at the same time, it's a weight on her shoulders that makes her conspicuous among her teammates. It's a dilemma that plagues her throughout Skybound and beyond - can she make herself work with her powers? Does she want to? In another way, that's all she is: her powers? Or not?

Bridging the gap between the wave jacket and the base ensemble is an element inspired by Nya's monologue to Jay about being friends - and nothing else.

That, of course, is the friendship bracelet inspired chain belt, adorned with four venom-shaded charms:

Closest to Nya herself is another symbol of her powers, and the way she has to reform herself to solve the problems at hand: a simple water droplet, a symbol of life turned into one of risk with the venom-green tint.

On the next layer down, something more classically Claire's jewelry rack bracelet set: a lightning bolt with a tiny heart, representing Nya's evolving relationship with Jay throughout the season. Although I find it important to analyze Nya as her own character in the context of Skybound, it is important to acknowledge Jay's influence, and that's what this is for.

(Partial Dragons Rising part 2 spoilers in this one!) Dangling as far away from Nya as she can get it, but apparently trying to climb back up close to her of its own accord, is a twelve-pointed sun motif that appears in the second half of Dragons Rising to - without getting too spoilery - indicate a curse on the bearer and mark them for inevitable suffering and eventual death. In Skybound and beyond, Nya narrowly evades this fate; the symbol overtakes both of her gloves here, representing her struggle and the hand motif I adore in the season. However, she does eventually escape - and wears it dangling loosely, even casually, from her belt, almost like a trophy.

Hidden beneath the jacket and attached to a belt loop for easy access, like a tool, hangs a charm modeled after the flask of venom used in episode 61. This is resilience, almost to a fault, and a bittersweet reminder of the events of the erased timeline - they go to such lengths to keep the venom, and for what end? Nya's eventual death - and their victory. And everything that comes with that.

The charms round out the trifecta of all she is during Skybound: the circumstances, mortal or not, that shape her actions and determine her destiny.

[axe8472]

I have thoughts in my brain about six of crows and they may or may not make sense. So. The thing is when people talk about how the crows couldn't possibly be 16-18 because they're overly mature and competent and have life experience etc etc. i get that BUT is that not the whole point? I mean the books really hammer it home that notions of childhood in their world are entirely different from ours, like to the point where i would even say it's a main theme and kinda the driving force behind all the events in the duology.

Kids are taken away from their parent at like 11 to train as soldiers. Kaz was all alone in Ketterdam at 9 years old and there doesn't seem to have been any functioning system of care for kids like him, nor mandatory schooling. In Fjerda, it seems like the closest thing to foster care is being taken on by the Druskelle. Inej started training as an acrobat pretty much as soon as she could walk and was playing starring roles in performances by the time she was 14 (and probably a fair bit younger). I don't remember Jesper's backstory perfectly but I think he was put to work in the jurda fields (a hazardous agricultural job) as a small child, then worked with guns in some way, then got sent to school in a different country when he was like 15. This isn't exclusive to the crows - it's mentioned a lot that there are many kids in situations similar to Kaz and Inej in the Barrel. Even Joost, despite seemingly being quite sheltered, is working full time night shifts as a guard when he's not even old enough to grow facial hair.

It seems that there's just much more of a vocational focus for kids/teenagers in the grishaverse. This makes a lot of sense because many elements of culture across the grishaverse countries come from the ~1800s when the attitude towards kids was that they weren't all that different from small, inexperienced adults, especially in working-class and rural settings where you just had to get on with things. Kerch especially took inspiration from victorian England, where kids as young as 9 could legally work up to 60 hours a week in dangerous conditions. So yeah that's kind of the whole point imo. It's especially interesting because I read the soc duology as a (potentially semi-unintentional?) criticism of capitalism. This is highlighted by the fact that Wylan, the only one of the crows from a rich background, is also the only one who had a childhood and got an education even vaguely comparable to what we would consider normal. So clearly the whole childhood innocence vs being put to work at like 4 thing is closely tied to class. (obviously Wylan did not have A Good Childhood but it seems from the books that the standard for merchers' kids is to give them a really good and varied education with 1-to-1 tutoring etc, which is very different from what all the other characters seem to have had as kids.)

And okay yeah they're unrealistically skillful and competent and just generally smart, but that would be the case even if they were adults. Like you kinda have to just take liberties with your characters of they'll never manage to do anything, especially in a world that's so hostile toward them. And it's actually kinda hard to even say how unrealistic their capabilities are because their experiences are so different from the experiences of real-life modern teenagers. Like kids are crazy adaptable and good at learning things, especially when they've had no other choice, and the crows actually mostly have quite a lot of experience and had time to develop their respective skills because they haven't spent 8+ hours a day in school for most of their lives. The same goes for the degree of adult-ness in their general behaviour - they're really quick thinkers and less likely to panic in a crisis than any teenager I've ever met. Again I'd say that's the whole point. The charaters are acting older than they have any right to because the experiences they've had have forced them to develop the capacity to do so.

Idk maybe i just read it differently to some people but yeah i think that cross-cultrually throughout the grishaverse children just have very very different experiences to kids in real life. It makes sense that they would then grow up to be very different from real-life teenagers, and obviously the crows are an extreme example of that but there is like. clear historical inspiration behind a lot of the crows' backstories and the general cultural backdrop of the duology. And the whole thing with the books is yeah they're doing all of this stuff and they're capable of these amazing things but actually they are literally children and they are doing all of it mostly for the sake of survival and taking back the things that they deserve from the world. And everything they've done for years and the people that they've become has all been for the sake of survival. And they're kids.

[vampyyrien]

new treasure....käärijä autograph in the my little pony notepad

[ann-yakor]

Mastermind.

| okay, so this is my first time doing this ever, I swear English isn't even my first language so I may have or may have not made chatgpt proof read this and help me with my grammar 😭🫠 lol

Pls be nice, this took me so much time and is probably not that good but I kinda like it.

Also, I don't know how to count words with the 1K! 1.2K! Cause math, my brain can't do that but this has around 2.100 words

"What do I have to do to get what I want? Let’s say I have a plan. Which I don’t. This plan would consist of a few steps. Little steps, since I can't focus on a lot of things at the same time.

The first part of the plan would be to get involved. Since social media exists, it's easier and easier to get inside people’s small private circles without them even noticing. You just open Instagram, search for… let’s say, your crush's account, and then you immediately follow… her best friend. Her best friend, who follows an insane number of people, will follow you back. Even though you're biting your nails, growing more anxious by the second, wanting to talk to her, you don't. You wait for a day or two. Then you upload a story about your cat. An hour has passed after that, and her friend saw it. Actually, her friend liked it. That's when you can get into her friend's DMs. And you talk to her about how you are new in town and hadn't got the chance to make any friends. If you chose wisely, she’s her extroverted friend. In fact, she’s the golden retriever that adopted her into the friend group in the first place. After a few days talking about where to get this, where to get that, the music you like, and how you wished you had friends to go to the weekend fair, you get invited. You are being adopted.

Don't be nervous, I know you messed up before, but this is what planning is for; sweaty palms and stutter won't be a problem when every word is scripted and perfectly crafted.

But don’t get too excited already either because you're gonna ask how many people are gonna be there. And after putting an excuse about being bad at names, you’re gonna make sure she's not going. The girl with the freckles? Not really a fan of fairs. Lucky for you.

Now the fun part is getting to know her friends.

We know Dina; she’s extroverted, charismatic, and if she wasn’t dating Jesse, she’d probably be a threat since she’s also gorgeous and generous.

Then there’s Jesse, the silly boyfriend, a joker, always in a silly mood, and trying to make everyone smile, even if deep down he’s having a hard time; nobody knows. But you know because his pain matches yours. So you smile at each other, in silent understanding.

After a couple of games, Jesse and you have secret jokes, and Dina is gossiping about everything that happens in Jackson, the small community that celebrates everything and is always throwing fairs like this. Your younger self would be thrilled; it sounds like Mystic Falls or Stars Hollow even, but this is a real place and is where you're gonna live for a long time now, so... please don't mess things up.

Now you’re feeling proud of yourself; her friends are your friends now. So, let's get to step three.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry!” Someone accidentally pushing me to the floor is definitely not part of the plan, but neither was wearing my old Converse instead of my new pink Nikes, and here we are. It shouldn't be an inconvenience. Oh, and yet it is when I get up, and it's her green eyes that I see.

The fairgrounds buzz with colorful lights, the distant echoes of laughter, and the scent of cotton candy and popcorn wafting through the air.

“Don’t! It was my fault; are you okay?” This is not how the first conversation was supposed to happen. Her friends were supposed to introduce me to her, skipping the awkwardness. Her friends were here with me. Her friends… are nowhere to be found now.

And she's standing there, with her perfectly fitting jeans, her matching Converse with mine that made me think maybe I took the right choice, and her flannel shirt. Under the moonlight, her arm tattoo looks so good; it's intimidating, and I have to physically force myself to get my eyes on her eyes before I look creepy.

She scratches the back of her head, a few strands of red hair falling on her face; she seems worried because I’m not talking. “…yES, yes, I’m sorry… I was kind of looking for my friends, I guess?” She smiles; I melt. But she still looks confused.

“You guess?”

“Well, I don’t know if I can call them friends; it's my first time meeting them. I’m new to town.” That excuse is getting old.

“How rude; would you like to stay with me? I’m also looking for my friends.” Shit, shit, shit.

“Did they also leave you behind?” She chuckles and fidgets with her fingers, like she’s nervous, but I know her; I know she’s not extroverted; she’s the anxious one of her group.

“Actually…” she bites her lip “…I wasn’t supposed to be here; I changed my mind at the last minute.” I know.

“So your friend-“

“Can I buy you a drink?”

“What?”

“Okay, this is dumb, but my friends are always telling me to invite girls I find cute for drinks. Probably makes much more sense when we’re at the club. It’s just that I never do. But now you’re here, and we’re having an actual conversation, and I think you’re really cute, and-“

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Yes, you can buy me a drink. I mean, maybe not a drink, but I’ll let you buy me a cotton candy if you want to, and we could share?”

“That would be great.”

New plan: don’t act stupid.

We walk in silence towards the one person selling cotton candy there, is an awkward silence, and I found myself getting lost in my thoughts even when she asks which color I want; everything happens so fast, I don't even notice she's been talking to me.

“So if you’re new here, who were you hanging out with?”

“Oh, I don’t think you would know them.” Liar, you’re gonna get a bellyache.

“Try me; I’ve been living here my whole life, and it’s a small town.”

Her soft-looking lips wrapped around a piece of blue cotton candy (her choice), and the sugar melted. Change the subject maybe?

“What was your name again? I feel like before I go on telling you the names of my friends, I should at least know who am I talking to.” Okay, it didn’t have to sound like that; fuck, I’m an idiot. She lifted two hands in the air and chuckled; I was getting used to that sound and the butterflies it made me feel.

“Okay, okay… fair, I’m Ellie.” It sounded so different when she said it; I have heard Dina say it, Jesse say it; I tried pronouncing it out loud the first time I ever heard it on the street when I saw her the first time, arguing with an old man about getting a new PlayStation. Shit, am I sounding insane in my own head?

She didn’t add anything more, but her eyes scanned me, my face, my lips; she was expecting me to reciprocate, and I did; my name came out in a higher pitch than

expected, but she smiled; her freckles forming new constellations when her cheeks lifted after her lips turned up. Corny. Stop looking.

“That’s a pretty name.”

Is that what I think it is? Behind the tree? Is it Jesse?

“You wanna go there?”

I blinked, once, twice; the tree was beside… the house of horror? No, thanks.

“Sorry, what?”

“The house of horror; I’ve been there plenty of times; every year is the same. But it's good! Come on; I can show you. I need to keep you around after we finish the cotton candy anyway.”

I nodded. What? No, this is not part of the plan; don’t act stupid is the plan; you’re definitely acting stupid if you’re getting scared.

The world stopped moving the moment her hand brushed mine; she gave me an insecure puppy look; she was asking for permission to take my hand, and my stupid brainless self made the right choice.

I saw our fingers interlock, saw her grin turn into a big smile, saw the pink take over her flushed cheeks, and saw her rare burst of confidence weaken when she scratched her neck with her other hand.

“I’ve never been in a house of horror.” Now her face illuminated even more, as if I just didn’t say that I might probably pass out in front of her the second we put a foot in that thing; she looked excited; now it felt like she was showing a way to wonderland, something new, something she’s been trying to get people to see in the past.

“Really? That’s great; you’re gonna get sooo scared.” Maybe saying it out loud like that made her realize how it sounded, or maybe it was the look on my face, because the next thing I know, she’s squishing my hand and giving me an apologetic look.

“We can do something else if you want to.”

“No! No, I wanted this, right? And it’s better to go with someone experienced than on my own, right?”

“Right… don’t worry; you’ll be safe with me.”

In no time, we were in the line, and even if I loved the silence the night and the stars gave us, eventually, the cotton candy ended, and now there was no reason not to be talking; she was even looking nervously all around. We were not moving, and yet her hand was still placed in mine; we looked like teenagers on their first date. Was this a date? No, no way. Running into someone and sharing candy and going into a house of horror was not a date, was it?

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You got lost in your head.”

“Oh sorry, it happens all the time. I was…”

“Don’t worry; I get it. But we’re kinda holding the line, so, after you?”

“What? No way; you’re going first.”

I laughed; the mood was light again; I wondered why things were so easy around her. Maybe I should throw my stupid plan away and just let it be.

“Okay, I thought you were braver than that.” She mocked, and I gasped; oh no, she can’t do that.

“You can’t trick me into walking to my possible death like that; nu-uh, I’m smart.”

And with that, she went first; after paying our tickets, of course. I tried to pay mine at least, but she refused.

The fairgrounds now gave way to a sinister facade—the house of horror. It loomed before us, a foreboding structure with cracked and weathered walls, adorned with eerie paintings of grotesque creatures. A dimly lit entrance beckoned visitors, shrouded in a chilling atmosphere, enhanced by the faint sound of eerie music and distant screams.

The house of horror was post-apocalyptic themed; there were zombies all over the place, and after the first scream from another person walking ahead of us, I was already clamped onto her arm like my life depended on it. She was having the time of her life.

“It hasn’t even started yet.”

“Shut up.”

The house of horror ended up being less scary than expected and more fun; first, we saw a person running scared from someone who was trying to eat her. By the second time, I got scared; I noticed it was showing the stages of infection, and now the actor had some kind of fungus growing on their face, making him blind. Ellie laughed at this like it was hilarious how the poor thing couldn’t see (even if we could see the two holes for the eyes, it was fun to pretend we couldn’t). The third and fourth ones made me scream in not such a pretty way because now I could even see a person behind all that fungus-like figure. Ellie held me by my waist one of those times, and even when we got out, she didn’t let go.

Walking outside the back doors of the house, she slid a strand of hair behind my ear and tried to take my face away from my hands. I wasn’t that scared; maybe I liked this little game where she pretended to laugh at me, but in reality, was checking if I was okay, and I acted like I was scared when in reality, I liked her attention and small touches. It felt like going out with a best friend, except that I didn’t want her as a friend.

“You’re a wimp,” she said, her eyes shining under the moonlight as a crooked smile lifted her apple cheeks, and a blush made her freckles stand out brighter than the stars in the sky; I was falling.

“Yeah, maybe, but you have been taking care of me, so you kinda want to kiss me.”

With the plan tossed out to the trashcan a long time ago, what did I have to lose? Maybe the cotton candy we had made the wrong effect on me.

“Yeah.”

Her voice, so low and raspy, got my legs trembling and my cheeks getting red; she tightened her grip on my waist as if she knew I was gonna fall if she didn’t and brushed her fingers on my chin.

Fuck. Is like she read all of those stories about my perfect idea of a romance.

Then her lips brushed mine, and I knew that I couldn’t just keep waiting, so I pressed my lips on hers, starting an ungodly slow and awkward

kiss. My heart got out of my chest and crawled to her shirt pocket to stay there as long as she wanted; I wasn’t falling anymore; she got me, just like that. Just when I thought we were playing a game where I was the mastermind, she proved me to be just a pawn.

“Ellie?” The kiss ended, and the glimpse of an embarrassed Ellie in front of me made my whole week better. Just until I heard my name in the same questioning tone said by the same person. Seems like our friends had found us.

“Man, I knew you said you liked her when I showed you her Instagram, but didn’t think it would make you change your mind and come to the town fair…”

Oh?

Oh.

OH.

[annoying-probably]

do any of you have fave proseka ships? platonic counts too!! -🐌

Oh totally!!

I'm mainly an akty truther, personally. But I really like most in-vbs ships!! Not as hot on toyahane and akian but they just aren't my go-to dynamics! I am a FIRM believer in antoya in a story dynamics way. I love them.

I like all the "basic" project sekai ships, really! Your Ruikasas and Emunenes and Ichisakis, and ofc Anhanes- Catch is- I'm a big multi shipper. My other big ships are probably KanaMizu and KanaEna! And KanaMino... And.. AkiMino... And ShizuMino... And KanaKasa...... And MinoKasa... And ShizuKasa..... And HonaKana...

okay so to be straight- I really enjoy ships with Kanade/Minori/Shizuku/Akito in them. I think they're just really shippable characters who work well in the dynamics prsk offers.

Favourites for my in groups are likely

HonaSaki(or polyneed), MinoShizu (poly jump), Akitoya, Emurui(could be PolyWonderlands) and KanaMizu.

Id ship poly niigo more but I am not that big on Mafuyu shipping. I think she is someone who rn doesn't really care about or need a romantic bond. So I do like qpr polyniigo. Like I said, love Antoya, but they're also one of my favourite hypewoman/hypeman pairs. They build each other up!!! They're the besties!! For other platonic ships- Probably EnaToya. But that's moreso sibling like.

In another thematic way- mafutouya!!!! Their stories almost mirror each others with just a small split- early salvation or not? Project sekai doesn't really allow character story and stuff in mixed events- but it would be a very fun conversation to see <3

oh I know I said I like akimino relationship but it really is more a qpr thing :) they're absolute best friends and I NEED to read the new event story soon.

Oh also minokohashiho. thanks Lynn!

Thank you so much for the ask, Mx. Snail anon !!!!!!!! I don't often get to ramble on about my lil strange pairings :)

[dayurno]

we’ve talked about nurse jean but have you ever thought about nurse kevin. have u. worlds most awkward most attentive nurse in the world. picturing him in scrubs as we speak

OF COURSE I HAVE i listen well obviously i have thought about it. first of all i am into nurse costumes with the little dresses so you can jot it down if you want, but even besides that its really cute……………. little scrubs……….. i feel like although kevin is not a nurturing person at all he would be such a good nurse, if a forceful one….. i think he would do great at telling people what to do and how to do it to get better and all things considered might even be a good nurse. plus if you hit your head really hard and ended up in a hospital and saw kevin day over you checking your vitals wouldnt you think he was an angel?

i wrote a kevjean fic once lovingly titled nurse kevin because it was about the stretch of time jean stayed in palmetto before usc where kevin kind of helped abby take care of jean’s injuries (mostly out of guilt, mostly out of a secret second reason). he was really good and diligent but not gentle at all… truly bulldozing jean back to health…. here’s a funny scene

“Don’t Kevin me, I am serious. If you hurt yourself for any reason, I will make you regret it.” He tilts Jean’s chin back, pushing the mouth of his own bottle through Jean’s lips and forcing water down. As a nurse, Kevin makes a tremendous athlete. “Drink. It’s good to get some water in you every few minutes.”

Cool water slips down his throat. A bit of it drips down the corner of Jean’s mouth, and it must soften the nasty stare he gives Kevin over the bottle. Kevin swipes it away with his thumb, squeezing Jean’s chin, and only pulls away when Jean cannot take it anymore and forcefully grips his wrist.

This is… this is babying, even for Kevin Day.

“I am not an invalid,” Jean tells him, but he is so thoroughly ignored in lieu of Kevin checking on his bandages that it doesn’t matter. “Kevin, I’m fine.”

“You’re fine when I see that you’re fine,” Kevin dismisses him. At last, he straightens up, then taps on the small of Jean’s back for him to do the same. Out of habit, and perhaps something else, Jean does as he says. “Keep your posture up. You might upset your stitches otherwise.”

SO YEAH horrible horrible nurse who does not care at all if you dont want to be healthy…… i need him. he could fix me. he did not fix jean but me for sure he would