#Maybe I will write more if I'm not too lazy

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Ooooh, I love this!

Originally, I had planned for a bunch of people from other franchises to the part of this but I was too lazy to write it out.

Sephiroth from Ever Crisis was going to be there learning how to interact with other people around his age as they deprogramed him from the brainwashing Shinra did.

Inertia was there because I liked him and wanted to learn more about him. I still need to Google more. I'm sorry

Jynx from the Teen Titans show from when I was a kid. The pink haired girl who could cause unlucky things to happen and fire energy beams (might also be magical???) is there, very doubtful that she could ever be "good" but has been talked into giving it a try

Psaro was there as part of the negotiations he had done with the Justice League. They would protect his younger half-brother Prince Ludo and his brothers mother, Elshael, as the two received psychiatric care at a mental institution in Central City. Psaro would also be given special lessons on how to properly rule Nadiria as king by members of the Justice Leage.

There naturally would be more characters than this, but my point is that each of these people is powerful, traumatized, and have difficulty letting people in. Everyone goes through a minimum of one story arc involving facing thier past traumas, Sephiroth faces of against Shinra as they try to reclaim him, maybe on a political propaganda route, maybe they attack with an army of highly trained enhanced humans and machines and are repelled, maybe they successfully capture Seph and the team recues him to see the full scope of the horrors Sephiroth has endured. Maybe all of the above?

For Psaro, I think dealing with the so called "heros" who followed him to this world only for them to be arrested and put on trial would be both funny and satisfying. I'll explain more in the comments if someone asks

And Jynx being captured by her old crew from the H.I.V.E. Five only for her to convince them to also join before her rescue even arrives

Ludo eventually joins tok when he is deemed mentally fit enough to do so. Does he betray them? Probably. Does him announcing his arrival with poetry like Genesis Rhapsodos trigger a reaction from Sephiroth, make him realize that he's not as emotionally healed from Shinras torment as he had thought he was? Absolutely.

Everyone here is messed up.

I don't think I need to mention Damian and him having to deal with the LOA and their issues from time to time, do I?

Then Danny, safe, sane Danny betrays them.

Danny, who loved to try bizarre and amazing food combos with Thad.

Danny, who liked to draw with Damian and invite him to play fetch with Cujo..

Danny, who stayed and comforted Jynx through her worst breakdowns saying, "I'm a Fenton. We're already unlucky!"

Danny, who channeled Jazz to explain human behavior to Sephiroth to help him fit in with his new friends.

Danny, who was always happy to have pun battles with Psaro.

That Danny was fake. Danny betrayed them.

Idk which is better. Danny freeing his parents and going on the run with them or Waller, killing them and Danny going for revenge.

Danny held up a large sign from the background like a man at an airport as thier leader, Robin, gave his report to this "Justice League". The first sign said, "Help! I'm surrounded by daddy issues!" Earning a laugh from someone off camera. He then pulled the next card out from behind the first one.

"Can you send air fresheners? It smells like teen angst in here"

This one got a cackle from someone on the Justice League side of things. Score. No one here really wants to laugh. They're all edgelords and Danny is suffering. He didn't really want to be here, but things in Amity had ended in a way he never expected.

Both he and his parents had been arrested.

Not by his worlds government, mind you, but by the government of another Earth. This Earth that he was currently on to be more accurate. Who knew that so much of the stuff he and his parents had been doing was super illegal and wouldn't ya know it? He was in the middle of doing something really sketchy looking in his parents lab when the feds busted in.

Thankfully, the Justice League presented him with a deal: they take him out of Juvie and the reformation program he was in, and in return, he joins a team of former teen/child villains and anti-heros.

Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point he agreed.

He was not expecting to be surrounded by angry angsty teens. His fault really. He should have known better. Thankfully it seems like nobody knows about Phantom and he'd like to keep it that way.

Psaro was his calm in the storm. The other boy was proud and almost as arrogant as Robin, but he had been proven to be very kind and reliable. If Danny ever needed advice or if Robin was getting a bit too much, he could just knock of Psaros door.

The last time Robin had a fit and was starting a fight with someone, Mr. Pointy ears stepped up and told Robin that his outburst was undignified, especially for someone of a higher class like Robin seems to be presenting himself as. He also said something about there being a big difference between a king and a tyrant, but Danny had been trying to rush Robin's victim to the medway and didn't hear all of the convo.

Psaro was some kind of half demon prince who was also from another world. He didn't have a superhero name yet, but the program was brand new, and to be fair, Danny didn't officially have one either.

Some lady called Raven was supposed to be coming in to help Psaro and convince him to embrace his human half and help him with magic and...something about a curse? What did Danny get himself into???

[jubburb]

》 "-ARE YOU COLD, MY DEAR?"

• @jubburb

ask: none.

sypnosis: waking up with your husband one morning and going on a walk in the snow.

a/n: ive been procrastinating this foreva, ik its short but I just want this out of the drafts so I can start writing more fics😼

warnings: female reader in mind when writing, but I'm not sure if I put any fem pronouns, just cute fluffy fluffness 😺

notes: ooc zhongli? definitely? maybe? idk.. u tell me

When fall hits Liyue, it can get pretty chilly pretty fast. The degrees quickly drop to fifty degrees and lower, previously being in around the eighties or nineties.

It's quite a sudden change. But a pleasant one, especially for tourists who come around during the seasons.

-

One quiet morning, you and your husband, Zhongli, are lazing about in your shared king bed. Zhongli was reading a book, idly playing with your hair with one hand, while you were still trying to wake up, laying your head on his broad chest.

"Mm.." You groan sleepily, reaching a hand up to rub your eye.

"Are you finally awake, my dear?" Zhongli chuckles, halting his hand that was intertwined with the tresses of your hair.

You simply nod, yawning, and sit up against his chest, feeling his hand snake around your waist to hold you closer.

"Do you have work today?" You ask, blinking a couple of times to actually fully wake up, staring up at him and he nods with a hum.

"I am, in fact, off today. What do you suppose we do?" He asks, placing the book down to give you his full attention.

"Sleep in?" You request with a chuckle, and Zhongli jokingly sighs, shaking his head no.

"Something productive, please, my dear." He says, playing with a strand of your hair once more.

"Sleeping is productive, Li." You retort, rolling your eyes, tempted to fall back into a deep slumber just to spite your husband.

There's silence for a moment as Zhongli thinks.

"-Oh, I know, what about a walk around the harbor? I'm sure nobody is awake during these early hours, so it'll be calm, quiet, and peaceful. Just the two of us." Zhongli smiles, cupping your cheek, his slightly calloused palm brushing against your soft skin.

"..Thats.." You start, ".. Not that bad of an idea."

"Knew it."

You only roll your eyes at his response, "Well, I guess we better get our lazy asses out of bed before it's too late and people start getting to work."

"You're the only lazy ass here." Zhongli chuckles with a whisper under his breath, getting out of bed before you could do anything about what he said.

"Oh you mother-"

-

As you two walk around the harbor, you did not expect it to start snowing..

The pretty white snowflakes started to dance across the sky before ultimately finding use on the ground, creating a soft blanket of snow covering the docks and pathways.

Aaaaand.. you forgot your mittens.. your hands were freezing, but if you told Zhongli, he would give you that: "i tOld yOu sO" bullshit.

Before you guys even left the house, Zhongli insisted you bring mittens, because, to quote him, "You don't even know how cold it is in the morning, love."

And of course, you just had to defy him, insisting that you'll be fine without mittens.

You really regret it now..

Even though you were clad in a comfy coat, your hands that were freezing seemed to freeze your entire body, and you were quivering every step you and your husband took as you walked around.

Zhongli looked through the shop windows, not really seeming to notice at first, but then he eventually heard your teeth starting to chatter together, and glanced back at you.

"..Are you cold, my dear?" Zhongli asks, staring at you with a concerned look.

"I-m f-ine.." You respond, your teeth clamming together continuously.

He glances down at your hands that were trembling the most, reaching his mitten covered hands hold them, and you immediately feel a sense of relief.

Zhongli smiles softly, chuckling a bit, and leaned forward to kiss your forehead, "I told you to wear the mittens."

"I kn-ow.." You chatter, before moving closer to cuddle into his chest, the two of you still holding hands, standing there for a while in the wintery streets.

Zhongli hums softly, his nose nuzzled into your hair as he smells your shampoo and conditioner, snow falling over his long brown hair and back.

You could fall asleep right there in the arms of your husband, but you'd rather get home before you get all lovey dovey, so you pull away, looking up at his handsome amber eyes.

"Let's head back, Li.." You say, and Zhongli nods, continuing to hold your hand.

He even not-so discreetly maneuvered it into the large pocket of his coat, so your hand could be even warmer as you two walked.

You smile softly, and lean your head on your husband's shoulder.

The two of you only left footsteps in your wake as you find comfort in eachother.

- signed by c♡

[shiyorin]

I just read your summer flash fic and I love it. It's basically every anime summer vacation arc like you said lol. And it got me thinking about primarch x reader in dating sim but it's event summer vacation. And maybe we'll have sex on the ocean lmao.

Thank you. Honestly I didn't think of that.  But stop give me new idea (I like it) and welcome to the....

Primarchs dating sim (but it's a summer vacation event and definitely not dating sim)

You had no idea how you had gotten roped into this ridiculous outing. One moment you had been escorting the Regent to an important meeting, the next you were being ushered onto a ship bound for some "paradise world."

And now, you are still not sure how you'd ended up here, on this so-called "vacation". The Emperor and Malcador had decided the heroes of the Great Crusade deserved a respite. And your duty required you remain at Malcador's side. So here you were, clad in the "swimsuit" as Malcador had called it (You had protested, but Malcador had insisted, commenting that the sun deserved to gaze upon your radiance.) while wearing an enormous sunhat and lounging under an umbrella.

You sighed, adjusting your sunglasses as you stared out at the seemingly endless expanse of beach and turquoise sea. Sparkling white sands stretched as far as the eye could see, dotted with luxuriant palm trees swaying in the tropical breeze. 

And of course, there were  the Primarchs. All of them, lounging about in various states of undress as they enjoyed this paradise world. Even the Emperor himself was present, reclining regally upon an ornate beach chair.

Truly a sight to behold.

You snorted to yourself. A day off, indeed. More like a day of torture for you. You hated the sun beating down, reddening your skin. Hated the sand that got everywhere, clinging irritatingly. Hated the saltwater touching your skin. The whole enterprise seemed utterly absurd.

You had scowled, but duty is duty. Now you lay beneath the shade of your umbrella, watching with surreptitious glances as the others splashed in the surf, swam in the cerulean waves or lounged upon the beach. And keeping a watchful eye on Malcador. The old man was snoring peacefully, oblivious to the antics of the Emperor and his sons.  

A gush of water indicated one of the primarchs had been thrown into the sea. They tussled and laughed like young giants, heedless of the damage their play could cause. The Emperor watched with a smile, still radiating power and majesty even in this casual state.     

You crossed your arms, glaring at the sea. Malcador mumbled something in his sleep, rolling onto his side. You grunted, briefly contemplating pulling the umbrella down on top of him.

You sighed again. The sun beat down relentlessly, heating the already-warm sands while waves crashed in a never-ending din. You longed for the cool silence of the Librarium, of pouring over ancient tomes in dim shadows. This place felt strange, unwelcoming.

After a time, Malcador opened his eyes and noticed your state. "Enjoying yourself, my child?"

You raised an eyebrow at him over your sunglasses. "You know I don't like such frivolities, my Lord."

Malcador chuckled. "All work and no play, eh? Even I agree a break is well-deserved now and then."

You scoffed. "Breaks such as sand in uncomfortable places, bothersome insects, and skin burnt lobster-red by sun?"

Malcador laughed  at that. "You do have a way with words, my sharp-tongued child. But tell me, what do you think of them?" He gestured to where the Primarchs continued their aquatic battle.

Despite herself, Your eyes were drawn to them. Even splashing in the surf, their dignified aura remained. They threw back his head and laughed, droplets of water glistening on wide shoulders and chiseled form.

You heard Malcador's knowing chuckle beside you. "Ah, so even you appreciates true excellence, it seems."

You sighed. "They are... warriors."

Malcador patted your shoulder. "Take care, my child. Even the greatest works do not guard against a kind word, or smile from someone like you."

With that cryptic statement, Malcador stood up and wandered off to join the Emperor.

You gazed out at the beach once more. The Primarchs continued their play, drawing ever closer to where you sat. As one approached, he paused. You and his eyes met. You lifted a hand in the smallest of waves. After a moment, he smiled and waved in return.

You smiled, turning your face up to the hated sun's warmth. You still hate this place but maybe it's not too bad.

[CHOOSE YOUR ROUTE]

[somegrumpynerd]

Do you guys wanna see a thing I tried writing? It's pretty unfinished and I don't think I will finish it but it was fun to play with and it might be okay as a lil snippet! I also have like no energy for drawing right now but I wanna post something lol

(The context is Cross and Killer are alone on a mission in some unspecified au when Killer goes stage 3)

“Killer?”

Cross looked over when he got no response, half expecting Killer to have wandered off in some direction as he did on these longer jobs. His loyalty to Nightmare was often at war with his attention span in the field, and you could expect a job to take longer if it was anywhere a cat was liable to appear.

What he didn’t expect was to catch sight of Killer’s wildly fluctuating soul glinting in the reflection of the knife that was coming right for him.

Cross managed to lunge back just in time for the knife to arc downwards into the snow in his place. Its wielder slowly turned his head, tracking the path to where Cross was now. His empty eye sockets gushed with more ooze than usual, stare somehow colder than the ice he was now shaking from his blade.

“Killer…” Cross began, trying to keep his tone steady and authoritative like a warning. He was ever hopeful that this was some stupid game Killer was playing out of boredom, but that hope died as he watched some of the black goop begin to drip out of the corner of the other’s mouth.

That only happened when he went stage 3.

Shit.

Cross felt his soul drop. He’d never dealt with Killer like this alone, usually they handled him as a team if Nightmare wasn’t there to take over. In the time it would take him to look down at his phone to call for help there would probably be a knife in his head.

This was fine. He could handle it. He always had more training and stamina than Killer anyway, he just had to play keepaway with his life long enough to go home with it.

Killer teleported in front of him, something that caught Cross off guard. In his right mind, Killer almost never seemed to use his magic in fights unless he wanted to fuck around with the other. 

[Put the fight part here idk pretend there was a really cool fight, it was so cool, you loved it]

Cross felt his soul drop again, but this time the rest of his body followed. Killer was using his gravity magic to hold him to the ground, and was shambling towards him ready to finish things. Cross struggled for a moment to see if he could fight his way out of the magic’s hold, but to no avail. He was pinned as his assailant now stood threateningly over him, knife raised. In a flash of desperation, he reached out both hands and grabbed Killer’s ankles, quickly moving his head to one side as a bone attack pierced up out of the snow and struck the other in the jaw.

It wasn’t his strongest attack, but it was enough to knock Killer backwards and stun him. As Cross felt his soul being released from the other’s magic, he quickly scrambled forward and sat on Killer’s chest as he lay sprawled out in the snow, pinning his arms down on either side of his head as he began to come back around. His face was leaking so much determination from every crevice that at that point it was hard to make out an expression under it all, but Cross could tell he was frustrated as he felt the rumble of bone attacks beginning to rise up out of the snow around them.

He followed suit, carefully forming a line of his own bone attacks closely around them to act as a barrier. He could feel Killer’s attacks bouncing off of his, each hit more desperate and frantic than the last like an animal clawing at the sides of its cage. He felt some magic encircling his soul again, but this time trying to raise him up rather than push him down. It was weaker than before, whether because Killer’s attention was split with still launching bone attacks or because he was beginning to tire out, but Cross managed to fight against it and stay put.

“Killer!” he barked, leaning over the other’s face. “That’s enough. You’re not going anywhere until you pull yourself together!”

The gravity magic seemed to cease at his shout, so Cross continued in the fervent hope that he was getting through to him.

“We’ll stay here all night if that’s what it takes, but I’m reporting back to Nightmare when this is over and I’m not leaving without you! Do you hear me?! I don’t care if I have to bring you back hogtied over my shoulder, I’m not gonna hurt you and I’m not gonna let you kill me!”

He didn’t realise he’d been shouting until the clinking and scraping of bone attacks had slowed and stopped altogether, and it was just the sound of his promise echoing off the bones and snow surrounding them.

And the strange gurgling sound coming from below him.

He opened his eyes again in confusion and stared down at the skeleton weakly fighting against his grasp, determination pooling and soaking into the snow from every gap in his skull. It took a second longer than he’d like to admit for Cross to realise that sound was Killer choking on it.

His bone attacks shrunk back into the ground and he shot backwards, landing ungracefully on his backside with a little curse. He hurried to pull Killer up and help him lean forward, swatting his back as he retched and spat the toxic goop up onto the ground where they’d just fought.

It was never an elegant dismount from these things, they’d found there was just no dignified way to get out a ribcage worth of black ooze. After a minute of heaving and gasping, Killer finally got a hold of himself and started glancing frantically around.

“Where’s Dust??” he managed to choke out with the urgency of a parent who’d lost their child. It always seemed to be the first thing on his mind when he came to from one of these episodes, Cross was never really sure why since any other time it seemed like they hated each other.

“He’s at home,” Cross assured, pressing one hand to Killer’s spine for support. “It’s just us, we were on a mission.”

He could see now that Killer’s soul had calmed down from the pulsating mass of spikes it was a few minutes ago and become somewhat soul shaped, still twitching nervously but a far calmer sight than before. That was a good sign that the attack was over. He wondered how much control Killer had over it, since he’d definitely seen it turn that way without having to go through a fight to the death first, but it was rare.

Cross flinched as he felt Killer grab him again, though this time instead of kicking him in the ribs he simply held on for dear life. That was another clear sign, after he was done puking up whatever goop had built up he usually cried for a while.

It was odd, especially the first few times, to see someone who always seemed so disconnected and unphased have a sobbing breakdown after trying to kill you.

“Hey,” Cross said, voice hushed as he wrapped his arms around the skeleton trembling in his lap. “It’s okay… you’re okay…”

Cross had never been the best at comforting words, but he knew Killer just needed someone to cling to while he got a hold of himself, and he was content to be that for a little while. Especially after being thrown around so much, his aching bones were more than happy for an excuse to sit in the snow for a bit. He could feel Killer’s soul being pressed against his chest as he wept silently into Cross’s shoulder, the fear and regret seemed to be radiating from it like smoke from a smothered flame.

He wondered idly if this was what Nightmare could feel all the time.

...

He also wondered just how hard it was going to be to get these black stains out of his jacket again once he pried Killer's face off of it.

[mono-socke]

part 2 to the trans fips story, this time ft. zeke and rhun

Zeke starrte perplex auf deren Fund, welchen dey gerade gemacht hat, im Bad des jüngsten der Brüder. Warum hatte er…?

Nachdem Klaus dey über mehrere Tagen hinweg so gut wie stündlich genervt hatte, dey sollte doch bitte mal nach Fips schauen, da dieser ihm seit einiger Zeit nicht mehr auf jegliche Art geantwortet hat, hatte Zeke schlussendlich nachgegeben.

Zwar hatte dey absolut keinerlei Interesse, was denn schon wieder für ein Streit zwischen deren Brüdern abging, da es dey auch nicht wirklich etwas anging, und hatte erst versucht Klaus zu überzeugen doch selber vorbeizuschauen, jedoch war dieser, laut eigener Aussage, zu sehr im Weihnachtsstress um sich Zeit dafür zu nehmen, und Rhun war ebenfalls zu beschäftigt, weshalb Zeke nun dazu verdonnert wurde.

Fauler Sack. So besorgt war er dann wieder auch nicht, was?

Eigentlich hätte Zeke auch nie zugestimmt, da dey normalerweise Besseres zu tun hatte, aber nach einer unnötig langen Diskussion gab dey schließlich nach. Warum auch die Zeit mit Klaus’ Dickköpfigkeit verschwenden? Es brachte doch eh nichts.

Genervt machte Zeke sich also spät in der Nacht auf den Weg zu dem jüngsten der Brüder. Wonach sollte dey überhaupt schauen? Ob Fips noch lebt? Bock darauf, ihn auszuquetschen, warum er sich nicht meldet, hatte Zeke jetzt nicht unbedingt. War schließlich auch nicht deren Angelegenheit. Dey selbst hatte sich in all den Jahren vielleicht ein oder zwei Mal bei Fips gemeldet, ihr Kontakt miteinander war schon immer etwas brüchig.

Dass Klaus sich regelmäßig bei ihm meldete, war für Zeke keine wirklich große Überraschung. Immerhin bekam dey selbst öfters Nachrichten von den Älteren. Und, ganz ehrlich, wenn Fips einfach aus Genervtheit nicht mehr antwortete, hätte Zeke ihn auch gut verstehen können.

Als dey bei Fips ankamen, lag dieser schon im Bett am Schlafen. Wenig verwunderlich, da es schon extrem spät in der Nacht war. Zeke beobachtete ihn eine kurze Zeit lang beim Schlafen, fragte sich erneut wonach dey überhaupt suchte, bevor dey mit den Schultern zuckte und den Raum verließ.

Jep. Lebt noch. Job erledigt.

Da Zeke ohnehin den langen Weg schon für sinnlos fand, dachte dey sich, dey könnte sich zumindest noch etwas zu essen mitnehmen. Jetzt, wo Zeke schon hier war. Damit es sich zumindest etwas lohnen würde.

Zu deren Enttäuschung, jedoch nicht Überraschung, war der Großteil, den dey fand einfach nur Karotten. Karotten und Instant Ramen. Was auch sonst? Wenig begeistert von den ganzen Möhren, begann Zeke die Regale nach etwas brauchbarem zu durchsuchen, passte dabei jedoch nicht ganz auf wo dey hingriff und ließ versehentlich ein paar Eier auf den Küchenboden fallen. Scheiße.

Das war jetzt nicht so geplant.

Fips hatte einiges an Chaos in seinem Haus, zumindest in letzter Zeit, da er noch nie unbedingt Meister der Ordnung war, und Zeke bezweifelte, es würde groß auffallen, wenn dey einfach wieder gegangen wären, jedoch wollte dey mal kein komplett rücksichtsloser Idiot sein. Zudem war es ja deren eigener Müll, und wenigsten den könnte Zeke schon wegräumen. Ausnahmsweise.

Also sah dey sich um, diesmal auf der Suche nach Tüchern zum aufwischen, doch etwas wie eine Küchenrolle fand dey nicht. Leicht genervt ging Zeke ins Bad, um dort die Suche nach Papiertüchern fortzusetzen. Doch erneut, Fehlanzeige.

Hatte der Typ denn ernsthaft nichts da? Kann doch nicht sein.

Auf die Idee, einfach Toilettenpapier zu nutzen, kam Zeke in dem Moment nicht, weshalb dey begann, jegliche Schubladen im Bad zu öffnen. Wirklich viel war in ihnen nicht, und der meiste Krimskrams weckte auch kein großes Interesse in deren. An einem anderen Tag hätte Zeke vielleicht aus Neugier sich alles genauer angeschaut, um möglicherweise etwas zum drüber lustig machen zu finden. Aber momentan war Zeke nur danach, einfach wieder zu verschwinden.

Eine Sache weckte jedoch schlussendlich doch deren Aufmerksamkeit. In einer der untersten Schubladen war nämlich im Grunde genommen nichts, außer einer Sache. Verbände. Und zwar einige.

Was? Wofür zum Teufel würde Fips denn Verbände brauchen? Geschweige denn, gleich so viele?

Wenn er sich irgendwie verletzt, konnte er sich doch wieder heilen? Komisch.

Sollte dey aber erstmal nicht weiter kümmern. War, immernoch, nicht deren Angelegenheit, weshalb Zeke extrem froh war, endlich Taschentücher zu finden, die Eier vom Boden zu wischen und abzuhauen.

----

Im Nachhinein schienen die ganzen Verbände Zeke doch etwas mehr zu verunsichern, als dey gerne zugegeben hätte. Denn gerade mal am nächsten Tag fing dey erneut an, den Sinn dieser zu hinterfragen.

Waren sie nur aus Prinzip da? Als Vorsichtsmaßnahme? Falls doch mal etwas passieren sollte?

Aber warum dann gleich so viele, als würde Fips sie regelrecht lagern. Als würde er sie regelmäßig brauchen und benutzen. Aber wofür?

Hatte er Verletzungen? Woher denn? Dey bezweifelte, dass es etwas in Fips’ Leben gab, von dem dieser lang anhaltende Verletzungen davontrug. Noch mal, wenn er verletzt war, konnte er sich doch selbst heilen.

Natürlich machte Zeke sich keine Sorgen oder so. Warum sollte dey auch? Vorallem nicht um Fips. Als ob. Und selbst wenn, was natürlich niemals der Fall sein wird, würde Zeke es nicht laut aussprechen.

Dass dey in der darauffolgenden Woche ab und zu nachts vorbeikam, war selbstverständlich ebenfalls rein zufällig. Nur um sicherzugehen, dass Fips gescheit schläft, und um deren Job zu erledigen. Reine Routine. Nicht um nach offensichtlichen, potenziellen Verletzungen oder Wunden zu schauen, die Fips möglicherweise haben könnte.

Welche er übrigens nicht hatte. Und das, obwohl der Verband trotzdem von Besuch zu Besuch weniger zu werden schien.

Was Zeke natürlich auch nur rein zufällig aufgefallen ist. Und nicht, weil dey jedes mal absichtlich nachsah. Das wäre ja absurd. Warum sollte es dey auch interessieren? Sorgen machte sich Zeke sicher nicht. Mm. Absolut nicht.

Das dey wenige Tage später Rhun einen Besuch abstatteten hatte ebenfalls nichts damit zu tun. Zeke wollte einfach nur mal wieder mit xier plaudern, wie es denn so bei Rhun läuft und wie es xier geht und so. Dass Fips dabei als Thema aufkam war zwar wirklich nicht geplant gewesen, doch lehnte Zeke es auch nicht ab.

Neben den üblichen kleinen Sticheleien und Witzen, erwähnte dey ganz nebenbei etwas über die Verbände die dey gefunden hatte, was von Rhun jedoch nicht ganz so lässig abgewunken wurde.

“Bandagen? Für welchen Zweck denn?”

Zeke zuckte nur mit den Schultern.

“Seh ich aus, als hätte ich ‘ne Ahnung? Was weiß ich denn, was der Hase wieder anstellt.”

Rhun rollte mit den Augen und schwieg für einen Moment, doch an xiers Gesichtsausdruck konnte Zeke erkennen, dass xier gerade ungefähr hundert mögliche Antworten durchging.

“Hat er irgendwelche Verletzungen?” fragte Minty plötzlich, und erst dann realisierten die beiden Brüder, dass sie scheinbar schon länger bei ihnen stand und mitgehört hat. Rhun starrte sie kurz grimmig an, als wollte xier ihr mitteilen, dass sie sich nicht einmischen sollte, schüttelte danach aber leicht den Kopf.

Minty ließ sich nicht von dem Blick abschrecken, sondern blieb weiter standhaft neben den beiden Wächtern stehen und überlegte wohl ebenfalls.

“Ist er trans?”

Zeke und Rhun tauschten beide sofort einen raschen, verwirrten Blick aus.

Ja, war er. Aber Minty konnte nichts davon wissen. Woher denn? Es war eins der Themen, die so gut wie nie thematisiert wurden, geschweige denn, vor anderen Leuten. Und die paar Male, die Fips sie getroffen hat, war es unwahrscheinlich, dass sie es von ihm weiß. Fips hatte es noch nie jemandem von sich aus erzählt, außer seinen Brüdern. Damals, im Kloster noch.

Und vorallem, warum spricht sie das ausgerechnet jetzt an? Weiß sie etwas darüber? Hatte sie eine Vermutung?

“Warum fragst du?” hakte Rhun nach und blickte sie an mit reiner Kuriosität und Neugier, allerdings auch mit leichtem Zögern. Misstrauen schon fast.

“Naja, viele Transmänner benutzen Verbände, um sie sich um die Brust zu wickeln. Damit diese flach wirkt. Ist aber extrem gefährlich,” erklärte Minty, ignorierte Rhuns Augen die sie immer noch durchbohrten und entweder tat sie nur so als bemerkte sie die Reaktionen der anderen nicht, oder sie bekam die ernsthafte Verwirrung wirklich nicht mit.

“Was weißt du darüber?” fragte Rhun erneut, diesmal schon etwas drängender. Als hätte das Wort ‘gefährlich’ etwas in xier ausgelöst, eine ganz neue Stufe der Neugier, allerdings war auch kaum merklich Sorge in xiers Blick. Zumindest soweit Zeke es beurteilen konnte.

Minty wirkte ein wenig perplex, woher denn dieses plötzliche Interesse von der Zahnfee kam, gab ihre Antwort jedoch relativ schnell. “Äh, also, wenn die Verbände zu eng sind, können sie einem das Atem erschweren oder sogar blockieren. Und die Haut an sich wird anfälliger für blaue Flecken oder Infektionen im schlimmsten Fall. Außerdem kann es sein, dass-”

Zu diesem Zeitpunkt hörte Zeke ihr schon nicht mehr zu. Dieses rücksichtslose Verhalten klang extrem nach Fips. Einfach zu handeln, ohne sich groß Gedanken über die Konsequenzen zu machen. Typisch.

Und obwohl Zeke gerne so getan hätte, als wäre es dey egal und einfach das Thema zu wechseln, konnte dey nicht leugnen, dass irgendein merkwürdiges Gefühl in deren aufkam. Warum würde Fips so etwas machen? Dass er häufiger unüberlegte und spontane Entscheidungen traf, die im Nachhinein extrem rücksichtslos waren, war nichts Neues.

Aber das war nicht unüberlegt. Wenn man den regelrechten Vorrat an Verbänden bedenkt, könnte man meinen, dass Fips das geplant haben muss, dass er das voll und ganz absichtlich tat.

Aber wieso? Warum würde er denn freiwillig seinen Körper so beschädigen? Und das auch noch wissentlich?

Zeke schüttelte den Kopf. Sollte Gedanken wollte dey gar nicht haben. Sollte Fips doch machen, was er will. Wird schon sehen, was er davon hat. Rhun schien ebenfalls in Gedanken versunken zu sein, da xier mehrfach von Minty gerufen werden musste, um auf sie zu reagieren.

“Zahnfee? Alles okay bei dir?”

Xier starrte sie für wenige Augenblicke wieder intensiv an, bevor Minty aufgefordert wurde, sich wieder um ihre Aufgaben zu kümmern, wobei sie natürlich schnell gehorchte und verschwand. Sobald sie wieder allein standen, beziehungsweise saßen in Zekes Fall, murmelte Rhun, “Ich muss mit ihm sprechen.”

Obwohl Zeke sich relativ sicher war, dass xier mehr mit sich selbst geredet hat, antwortete dey trotzdem. “Ach was. Um den Hasen musste dir doch keine Sorgen machen. Wer sagt denn, dass das was deine Helferin gesagt hat, überhaupt eintrifft?”

“Ob es der Fall ist oder nicht, die Möglichkeit besteht dennoch. Und wenn da wirklich etwas dran ist, bedeutet das nichts Gutes.”

Zeke rollte nur mit den Augen und ließ sich etwas weiter im Sessel zurücklehnen, was von deren Bruder mit einem weiteren, grimmigen Blick kommentiert wurde.

“Selbst wenn, der kann sich doch selbst heilen. Wo ist das Problem?”

“Das Problem, mein lieber Bruder, ist warum Fips das überhaupt macht. Es muss ja einen Grund geben. Nicht mal er ist so rücksichtslos.”

Den Witz der Zeke auf der Zunge lag, dass er vielleicht heimlich Masochist geworden ist, brachte dey lieber nicht. Einen Streit mit Rhun wollte dey jetzt nicht unbedingt erreichen.

“Ugh… Okayyyy. Was hast du vor?”

----

Als Fips aufwachte mitten in der Nacht, war es um ihn herum noch dunkel, bis auf das leichte Mondlicht, das durch eins der Fenster schien. Warum genau war er aufgewacht? Ausgeschlafen war er sicher nicht, da er sich vor gerade mal zwei oder drei Stunden hingelegt hatte. Es war auch nicht so, als hätte er einen Alptraum gehabt, der ihn vom Schlafen abhielt.

Es fühlte sich an, als hätte ihn etwas, oder jemand, absichtlich aus dem Schlaf gerissen.

Zwar wollte Fips einfach nur sich umdrehen und weiterschlafen, doch als er leise Geräusche, die wie Schritte klangen, knapp neben ihm hörte, öffnete er vorsichtig die Augen. Es war gerade so hell, dass seine Augen sich so gut wie direkt an die Helligkeit gewöhnten.

Das Erste was er sah, war das Gesicht eines seiner Brüder.

Zeke?!

“Was zum Fick?!”

Fips rutschte schnell weg von deren, und wäre Zeke nicht von sich aus direkt weg gesprungen, hätte Fips dey wahrscheinlich aus Reflex geschlagen.

“Dir auch guten Morgen,” meinte Zeke gelassen, wartete nicht einmal auf die Reaktion des Anderen bevor dey die Türklinke unterdrückte um die Tür zu öffnen.

“Was zum Teufel machst du hier?!” schrie Fips ihn fast an, immer noch verdattert und verwirrt. Seine Frage wurde gekonnt ignoriert, als Zeke sich schon bereit machte zu gehen. “Bin nur der Weck-Service. Viel Spaß euch,” antwortete dey, wobei der letzte Satz wohl an jemanden gerichtet war, der sich noch außerhalb von Fips' Sichtfeld befand.

Bevor er etwas erwidern konnte, war Zeke bereits verschwunden, und um die ganze Situation noch komischer zu machen, tauchte Rhun an deren Stelle auf.

“Und was machst du jetzt hier? Wollt ihr mich verarschen?” Langsam wurde Fips genervt. War das alles ein Traum? Schlief er noch? Was wollten die beiden denn jetzt von ihm? Dass Klaus ab und zu mal vorbeikam, ohne jeglichen Grund oder Ankündigung, war er schon gewohnt. Aber die zwei? Die meldeten sich doch sonst nie bei ihm.

“Auch schön dich wieder zu sehen,” sagte Rhun in kompletter Gelassenheit, und stellte sich neben das Bett, um den Anderen besser betrachten zu können.

Fips rollte nur mit den Augen. “Wenn das irgend ‘ne blöde Verarsche sein soll, hab ich da jetzt echt keinen Bock drauf.”

“Keine Verarsche. Keine Tricks. Ich wollte mit dir reden,” stellte Rhun fest, und bevor Fips widersprechen konnte holte xier etwas hinter xiers Rücken hervor. Verbände.

Wo zum Teufel hatte xier die her?? War xier seine Sachen durchgegangen? Was wollte xier damit? Oh fuck. Hatte Rhun etwas mitbekommen? Bitte nicht. Xier konnte doch eh nicht wissen, wofür er sie brauchte. Dann wiederum, was sollte er xier denn sagen? Wenn Rhun den Vorrat gesehen hat, wird xier ihm definitiv Fragen stellen. Oh Gott, nein.

Auch wenn Fips nichts sagte, um sein Erstaunen und seine Überraschung so gut es geht zu verbergen, konnte Rhun trotzdem die Bedeutung seiner geweiteten Augen deuten. Etwas so gut für seinen Geschmack. Rhun gab ihm einige Momente, um selbst ein Gespräch anzufangen oder eine Erklärung abzuliefern, an welchen Fips jedoch offensichtlich kein Interesse hatte.

“Wofür brauchst du die Bandagen?” fragte xier ruhig.

Fips gab seinem Brüder die erste Antwort die ihm einfiel, die auch einigermaßen logisch klang. “Wofür braucht man denn Bandagen? Schon mal was von Schnitten oder Prellungen gehört?”

“Ausgerechnet du brauchst doch dafür keine Verbände. Und wir wissen beide, dass du lieber Wunden durch Magie heilst, statt sie natürlich verheilen zu lassen.”

Shit. Hatte xier recht.

“Ja und? Ne Notation kann nie schaden,” versuchte Fips abzuwinken. Leider ohne großen Erfolg.

“Ich bezweifle, dass ein halbes Dutzend an Verbandsrollen als ‘Notration’ zählt.” Rhun hob leicht eine Augenbraue, wechselte aber schnell zurück zu einem neutralen Gesichtsausdruck. Fips beruhigen tat dies allerdings nicht.

“Warum juckt dich das überhaupt? Kümmer dich doch um deinen eigenen Kram,” kam von ihm zurück und er verschränkte die Arme, seinen Kopf lehnte er an die Wand hinter sich.

“Fips, ich frage dich das nicht, um dich zu ärgern. Ich möchte nur sichergehen, dass du keinen Mist anstellst. Sag mir bitte, warum du diese Bandagen brauchst.”

“Geht dich ‘n Scheißdreck an.”

Rhun starrte ihn nur böse an, was als Reaktion mehr als reichte.

Für eine Weile weigerte Fips sich zu antworten und saß nur stillschweigend da. Warum zum Teufel mussten seine Brüder ihn um diese Uhrzeit schon auf die Nerven gehen. Basierend auf Rhuns erwartungsvollen Blick, wusste xier doch eh schon, was xier hören wollte. Warum sollte Fips es dann noch aussprechen? Als wollte xier ihn foltern…

“Aus… privaten Gründen,” murmelte er irgendwann, und seine Augen wandte sich ab von Rhun, nicht mehr fähig xiers Blicks standzuhalten. Und erneut ein Zeichen, wie schwach er doch eigentlich war. Hatte er denn vor überhaupt irgendwas keine Angst?!

“Haben diese ‘privaten Gründe’ rein zufällig etwas mit dem Abflachen deiner Brust zu tun?” fragte xier nach und Fips hätte xier gerne geschlagen. Warum fragte Rhun ihn überhaupt?

“Wenn du's eh schon weißt, frag doch nicht nach.”

“Ich möchte deine Bestätigung hören, um keine unnötigen Vermutungen aufzustellen.”

Mit zusammen gebissenen Zähnen und eng gekreuzten Armen gab Fips eventuell nach. Wenn auch extrem widerwillig und nicht im gewünschten Wortlaut.

“Und wenn's so wäre? Warum interessiert's dich?”

Rhuns Blick wurde sofort sanfter, und hätte Fips hingeschaut, hätte er möglicherweise sogar Anzeichen von Sorge erkannt.

“Warum sollte es mich nicht interessieren? Du bist immer noch mein Bruder und ich möchte nicht, dass du dich selbst diesen Schmerzen unterziehst,” fing xier an zu erklären.

“Mir geht's gut, keine Sorge,” wies Fips xier schroff zurück und warf endlich mal die Decke von seinem Körper, da es langsam warm wurde. Ob wegen der Temperatur oder aus in ihm brennender Scham, konnte er nicht definieren.

Rhun setzte sich langsam ans Ende seines Bettes, um Fips genügend Platz zu lassen und ihm trotzdem vorsichtig näher zu kommen. “Hat dir schon mal jemand gesagt, dass du kein guter Lügner bist?”

Normalerweise hätte der leicht amüsierte Ton seines Bruders Fips ebenfalls zum Schmunzeln gebracht, aber in dem Moment war ihm einfach nicht danach. Er wollte über dieses Thema nicht reden. Weder mit Rhun, noch mit irgendwem anders. Und der Fakt, dass Rhun auch noch so interessiert tat, machte es nicht besser. Die hatten sich doch noch nie für ihn groß interessiert, warum jetzt auf einmal?

“Musst nicht einen auf möchtegern besorgt machen, mir geht's wirklich okay.”

Doch Rhun blieb standhaft, und je länger xier ihn so intensiv ansah, desto mehr kam Fips das Gefühl, dass Rhuns Sorge möglicherweise doch echt sein könnte.

“Geht es dir wirklich gut? Wenn alles in Ordnung wäre, würdest du nicht willentlich leiden,” stellte Rhun fest, und setzte xiers Erklärung fort, nachdem Fips’ Gesichtsausdruck leicht verwirrt wurde. “Deinen Rippen und Lungen geht es sicherlich nicht gut, mit wie viel Druck du auf sie ausübst.”

“Mir passiert schon nichts, ich trag schon keine heftigen Schäden davon.”

“Dass du dich selber heilen kannst, weiß ich. Was ich nicht weiß ist, warum du dass überhaupt machst.”

Fips rollte erneut mit den Augen, der Drang, sich diesem Gespräch zu entziehen, hatte ihn nicht verlassen, war aber nicht mehr ganz so präsent. Seine Priorität war gerade, Rhun abzuwimmeln, um seine Ruhe zu bekommen.

“Was glaubst du, warum ich als Mann meine Brüste verdecken will?" fragte er nach, eine Spur Ironie in seiner Stimme, als wäre die Beantwortung dieser Frage so oder so unnötig und offensichtlich.

“Deswegen musst du dich allerdings nicht rund um die Uhr mit diesen schädlichen Methoden quälen. Zu lange die Verbände zu tragen ist extrem schädlich, außerdem gibt es ohnehin bessere Optionen.”

Fips traute seiner Stimme nicht, nicht zu brechen, weshalb er erneut nur schwieg. Aus welchem Grund auch immer, schien der Gedanke an seinen Körper allein, ihm schon zuschaffen zu machen. War ja klar, dass Rhun da keinerlei Mitgefühl oder Empathie hat.

Verhätschelt oder bemitleidet zu werden, wollte Fips erst recht nicht, aber diese komplette Emotionslosigkeit und Ignoranz fühlte sich einfach nur nach Abweisung an. Als wäre es xier scheißegal. Dass xier mehr auf Logik als auf Gefühle fokussiert war, war ihm ja bekannt. Schließlich war das schon immer so. Und dennoch wirkte es in diesem Moment besonders kalt.

Entweder das, oder Fips selbst war zu emotional. Konnte natürlich auch gut möglich sein. Ein weiterer Aspekt, den Fips an sich nicht leiden konnte, war, dass er seine Gefühle oft nicht so unter Kontrolle hatte, wie er es gerne hätte. Aber auch dafür schien er zu schwach zu sein. Konnte er denn irgendwas?

Und obwohl er jegliche Andeutungen von Tränen direkt weg geblinzelt hat, in dem Moment, in dem seine Augen anfingen zu brennen, schien Rhun doch irgendwie etwas bemerkt zu haben. Xiers Stimme wurde sanfter als zuvor, fast vorsichtig.

“Fips, wenn dir das so zu schaffen macht, hättest du uns Bescheid sagen sollen.”

“Wieso? Damit ihr euch drüber lustig machen könnt? Ne danke,” blaffte er xier angespannt an.

“Das hätten wir nicht getan. Nicht bei so einem ernsten Thema.”

Natürlich wusste Rhun auch, dass dieses Gerede eher Wunschdenken als der Realität entsprach, da Zeke sich herzlich wenig kümmerte, wann Witze und Kommentare angebracht sind und wann nicht. Allerdings wusste Rhun auch, dass es zumindest von xiers Seite aus, ein ehrliches Geständnis war.

Nach ein paar weiteren Minuten, die in drückender Stille vergingen, forderte Rhun xiers jüngsten Bruder auf, “Komm. Nimm bitte die Verbände ab.”

“Wieso sollte ich?” kam von Fips zurück.

“Deine Rippen haben eine Pause verdient. Und wenn du sie nicht abnimmst, nehm ich sie dir eigenhändig ab.”

Allein, dass Rhun ihm diese ‘Drohung’ machte, zeigte, dass xier es ernst meinte. Und xier würde nicht davor zurückscheuen, die eben genannten Worten in die Tat umzusetzen, so viel war sicher.

Fips seufzte, gab sich aber geschlagen. Überraschend schnell, für seine Verhältnisse. Auf einen Streit hatte er keine Lust. Dafür war er dann doch noch zu müde.

“...Guck weg,” murmelte er nur, achtete genau darauf, dass Rhun auch ja wegsah, bevor er sich die Verbände langsam abnahm. Und Rhun hatte Recht, sein Brustkorb fühlte sich tatsächlich direkt besser an. Kam wohl davon, diesen unzählige Jahre am Stück durchgehend viel zu eng zusammen zu schnüren.

Rhun war mindestens genauso perplex wie Fips selbst, über die Geschwindigkeit seines Einverständnisses, war aber respektvoll und schaute mit nach unten gerichtetem Blick auf xiers eigene Schuhe, bis keinerlei Bewegung mehr von Fips bemerkbar war.

Und tatsächlich hatte er den Verband abgenommen. Der lag nämlich nun vor ihm auf der Decke und wurde mit Verachtung von ihm angestarrt. Wenn Blicke töten könnten, wäre der jetzt definitiv tot, obwohl es nur ein Gegenstand war. Fips Blick hätte alles und jeden umgebracht, so sicher war Rhun sich.

Bevor Fips auf dumme Ideen kommen konnte, nahm xier die Bandagen schnell an sich und stopfte sie in eine von xiers Taschen.

“Besser?”

“Mh.”

Körperlich war es eine Art Erleichterung, klar. Allein seine Atemwege waren freier und er konnte sich auch um einiges leichter bewegen. Aber gleichzeitig spürte Fips jetzt auch wieder dieses ätzende Gewicht an seiner Brust, das er seit Jahrhunderten verabscheut.

Rhun meinte es nur gut, und das wusste er auch. Aber das hieß nicht, dass er sich nicht unwohl fühlte. In seinen Augen wirkte seine Brust so viel bemerkbarer und Fips hätte sich am liebsten unter der Decke versteckt, um nicht von irgendwem gesehen zu werden.

“Falls es dich glücklich macht, in meinen Augen wirst du immer mein Bruder sein. Egal wie du aussiehst,” versuchte Rhun ihn aufzumuntern. Und dieses Mal schien es zu wirken, denn irgendwie schafften es diese Worte, ein Lächeln auf Fips’ Lippen zu bringen. Mehr als das Wort ‘Danke’ stumm zu formen, brachte sein Mund allerdings nicht heraus.

“Trotzdem bitte ich dich, mehr Rücksicht auf deinen Körper zu nehmen. Diese Verbände sind sowieso schädlich, den ganzen Tag damit herumzulaufen ist keine gute Idee. Wenn du reden willst, kannst du immer zu mir kommen. Wenn ich aber nochmal mitbekomme, dass du diese Dinger nicht rechtzeitig abnimmst, sorg ich persönlich dafür, dass du's bereust. Oder ich hetze Klaus auf dich.”

Kurzzeitig war Fips davon überzeugt gewesen, wenn Rhun und Zeke schon da sind, wäre Klaus auch keine Überraschung mehr. Allerdings war er nicht da, was Fips daraufhin deutete, dass ihm überhaupt nicht Bescheid gesagt wurde. Wahrscheinlich wollte Rhun in Ruhe mit ihm sprechen, und Klaus war jetzt nicht unbedingt die Ruhe in Person.

“Ich pass schon auf,” antwortete Fips, und obwohl seine Stimmlage nach wie vor leicht genervt klang, verriet seine Körpersprache, dass er nicht mehr ernsthaft genervt war. Nur, dass er dieses Gespräch ungern weiterführen wollte, was Rhun jedoch einigermaßen verstehen konnte.

----

Als Zeke deren irgendwann zu ihnen ins Schlafzimmer gesellt und prompt auf Fips’ Bett fallen gelassen hatte, legte dey einen Arm um Fips’ Schultern um ihn zu deren zu ziehen und ihm grob die Haare zu verwuscheln. Zwar waren deren Handlungen nicht gerade sanft, aber ausnahmsweise auch mal nicht von Hass oder Sticheleien getrieben.

“Na, kleiner Bruder?”

Fips versuchte relativ schnell sich aus Zekes Griff zu befreien, welcher ihn aber nicht losließ und einfach näher zog.

“Was für ‘kleiner’? Ich bin größer als du,” gab er dey als Antwort.

“Ja und? Ich bin älter.”

Zeke war schon immer stolz gewesen, diese paar Minuten älter zu sein als Fips. Somit war dey nämlich nicht ganz der Jüngste. Der kleinste von allen fünf war dey trotzdem.

“Ne Nervensäge, das bist du.”

“Tja. Immerhin bin ich der Einzige von uns, der eine Frau hat.”

“Wie viel du der gezahlt hast, das die bei dir bleibt, ist mir immer noch rätselhaft…”

Als er das halb beleidigte Gesicht seines Bruders sah, konnte Fips nicht anders, als zu grinsen.

“Hey!”

[boyfridged]

Do you agree that Jason, as written by Winnick in UTRH and Lost Days, acts out of character post-resurrection if we take into account his post-crisis robin days? If yes, how would you have him act/react to stuff after he comes back from the dead?

tldr: i definitely agree. moreover, classism plays a huge role in it, and i don’t think that at this point the storyline could lose these implications, which makes trying to conceive what an “in character” (for robin jay) version of these events would be quite difficult. 

let’s just start from saying that i don't think it's a secret that i don't really like winick in general. despite his work being mad interesting on a conceptual level (and style-wise, genuinely well written!), he has no love for the characters he writes about. 

imo utrh shouldn't even ever make it into the mainstream batman timeline. i am aware that this is a radical opinion, but my take is that it would do best as an elseworld story (and in this version too it would need some tweaks here and there), because it made damage both to the mythos of batman and jason's legacy that can never be undone. the very premise of the story is so deeply disconnected from jay's original place in the narrative, and so classist at its roots, that there's not much room to truly fix it. 

(i want to say, preemptively, that i am aware that there are people who read utrh as a story of a revolutionary and a victim – and they have the right to do so, but ngl, my view has always been that it was never written as that. utrh reinforces so many stereotypes that it overshadows the revenge tragedy spirit of it all.) 

another disclaimer is that, to be honest, jay doesn't have a very consistent characterization even in his 80s run, and it also has some classist implications that ideally should be either erased or addressed in the text (that winick instead exaggerated and put at the very front of his storytelling.) starlin's writing is, at the end of the day and very much ironically, more sympathetic and gentler in evaluating jay (simply because at the time he would not get away with changes too blatant) but details such as jay saying that "all life is game" and his random nonchalant behaviour that has its origin in the very beginning of starlin’s run are already signs of it. some readers will trace jason's arrogance prevalent in his red hood era to these issues and say that his actions post-res are therefore a logical extension of his robin days, but i don't buy it. even if you want to lean into starlin-esque characterisation, if you consider the core problem of the garzonas plotline – which is power, jay shouldn’t look into the solution of anything in climbing to the top. and if he did, it would have to be written as a “becoming what you feared/hated most” kind of story, which i can see a certain appeal in (and which would at least acknowledge that it was not his initial personality), but which would go back to its classist assumption of cycles of violence and doomed fates.

so – how to make his post-res era more accurate to his post-crisis robin days (and least classist in the process)?

if we were to follow my fav iterations of his characterisation (barr’s detective comics and the ntt appearances) tbh I don’t think a lot would happen, because his personality is quite mild, and just so hopeful there that i wouldn’t expect any extreme actions from him – but then again, the circumstances that he finds himself in post-res, the trauma, and his sensitivity do warrant grief that should become a driving force in his life from now on. the question is, what to do with this grief as a plot device?

i know that plenty of jason fans hate this take but I actually think the concept of jason trying to be detached and cruel but being bad at it might be one of the least offensive to his 80s characterisation. it’s def not accurate to pre-52 canon (apart from countdown perhaps) but imo for jay to be authentic and nuanced he should be conflicted about his own actions. his overconfident behaviour should be a pose – just as his frantic acts in his origin story as robin were. (again, something that many readers don't take notice of – but reading the rest of collins' writing wherein jay quickly settles into being easy-going and even a bit shy is proof of it.)

these two points lead to the “no good deed” narrative that I often talk about - the reading that jason saw his intuitive and self-sacrificial kind tendencies as something that brought him pain and that never was quite efficient, and that post-res he intentionally tried training himself out of. there are some flashes of it here and there throughout the years of the red hood publishing history, but it never got a true spotlight. and if i were to write lost days, jason flinching at his own violence would be a focal point of the story. 

moving on to utrh; i have spoken about it at length before but I think if he were written 1. with more political sensitivity 2. to have retained the same maturity re: the social order 3. to have the same idea of morality, he should have followed more of actual revolutionary tracks and the whole “drug lord” authoritarian figure schtick along with the idiotic idea of “controlling crime” would have to be thrown out of the window. 

and, later on, forgiveness should play a big role in his story. he's so quick to forgive and justify everyone in his robin run – this is also why i reckon his team up with harvey in tfz was a wasted opportunity.

so, in conclusion – perhaps not that much would have to change re: his actions but definitely a lot should change regarding his emotional journey and his position. i would def throw out a lot of mindless violence and power posturing out of it though. and perhaps make him a bit more polite just for the sake of more consistency (this is not me taking a moral stance btw nor tone policing a fictional character. i just think it would be more faithful to his 80s writing unless you want to make him explicitly scared. and it would be funnier tbh.)

[tanicus-caesareth]

guarana drama, damage control

[mishalikessoundsandcolours]

Doodled some more fem Sydger from my genderbent Punk Floyd au at school (although I guess it isn't really just punk but more like a mix of aesthetics from a similar kind of colour palette at this point, Sydney and Rogie are closer to goth I guess, correct me if I'm wrong though because I'm not an expert on subcultures lol)

[pc-specs]

haven't posted in a while... have some Homedtuck Trolls

also an uncolored kid

[devereaux]

SIMONE KESSELL as FAITH COOPER (part 3 of ? because i have no self-control) My Life Is Murder | 3.10 - Killer Fashion

[frankensteinposm0]

maybe my fav coping mechanism is rewatching my favorite Stan angst edits 10,000 times

[maxiwaxipads]

i once wrote notes based on hello kitty's furry tale theatre cartoon (fragaria memories ofc because this is my current fixation aha haha)

i tried formatting this appropriately so itll be easy to read but I gave up at the point of character profiles

(I wanted to write something that is at least based on Hello Kitty’s Furry Tale Theater(?)) (Hallritt, Merold, and Tuxam appearances) (That also means making characters based on Catnip, Grinder, Mowzer, and Fangora) (Other than obviously featuring a play of sorts, what will the overall plot will be(?)) (I kinda want to introduce the idea of Merold and Tuxam knowing each other) (Because I like the idea that both are senior knights of their respective bouquets and may have met each other, even if it was once) (And also the idea of retired knights of Fragaria, or at least the knights before our current cast) (Hello Kitty's knight before Hallritt(?)) (Tuxam who visited with his lord because Tuxedo Sam wanted to visit the Orchid Theatre)

(Plot Synopsis): In celebration of the 100th Anniversary of the Orchid Theatre, Hallritt, Merold, and Tuxam visit the Theatre with their lords but are caught in a mysterious case of incidents where members of Hello Kitty’s Men wound up with mysterious injuries.

Nica (Lord: Catnip) - “So, what if you’re an amateur? With enough passion and drive,—we can start from somewhere. But don’t think this excuses you from essential training.” A hot-headed person with incredible drive and passion. They’re a bit foul-mouthed and strict with themselves and others. Somewhat older than Merold, Hallritt, and Tuxam (around their late 20s or early 30s(?)). Considered a talented actor. (Orchestrated from their hometown, but was saved by Catnip(?)) (Feels incredibly indebted to the troupe and their lord) (Someone with a “let’s get it over with” attitude and has an ego where they know they’re perfect, so it won’t be lazy or with poor taste at all(?)) “I trust myself that I can deliver a satisfactory performance. But it won’t be just satisfactory—it will be beautiful and mesmerizing!”

Anfora (Lord: Fangora) - “Everyone bothers me about retirement this… retirement that…! No. I’ve decided that my fate is to die here.” A senior member of the troupe who had been around before Oz was made the current troupe master. (The current personality trait I have is: yapper) (like if I wrote it down, it could be summarized as yapper) (Still acts and helps behind the scenes) (May also help and advise with/for Oz) (Considered dependable and someone who is also just as passionate about the Orchid Theatre and for the troupe)

Rin (Lord: Grinder) - "Heheh… Look right here! Funny, right? No? Guess I shoulda let the script to ol' Oz…" A jack-of-all-trades when it comes to instrumentals, Rin is a prankster who tries to lighten the mood and make everyone laugh. Rowdy, but has a heart of gold. (Someone who would stop immediately if the prank seems to become too severe(?)) (I feel like out of everyone in the Orchid Theatre, Rin is the most normal and average guy in the troupe and everyone could be said as insane) A little bit older than everyone else, but closer in age to Merold, Tuxam, and Hallritt. (I want him to be a himbo or at least akin to one(?)) (Originally his family pushed for him to become a knight but Rin desired to become an actor) (Still follows the same training regiment that is somewhat modified from his days of training to be a knight)

Oz (Lord: Mowzer) - “I think… Each life serves a singular purpose, and mine is to write. I will do it. No matter how insane I become, or if I forget my humanity. It has been decided.” Troupe Master of Hello Kitty's Men. Oz leans on the more quiet side and has an illicit passion for the stage. Makes his contributions by writing scripts and helps when it comes to directing. He isn't much of an actor and mainly focuses from behind the scenes.

Oz - “We have all resigned ourselves to continue performing even in the face of death.” Oz - “So why worry about us?” “Merely—If the chance allows, we’d sing and dance on the stage even after death.” Oz - “As your lords mean everything, the performance is our life and everything.” Oz - “‘In your hands, it will be brilliant.’ Call it what it is… I simply laugh in joy. I would hear those many—no, an infinite amount of times! It could never grow old!” Oz - “That is how we all feel.” “Be it because of ego or to make someone in the audience moved.” Oz - "It is an art form I am proud of…"

and from this moment forward, idea hailstorm will occur </3

“i am so pathetic for this character” and you turn around to see its tuxam from fragaria memories

(Taking place in the Orchid Theatre that is currently occupied by the playing company, Hello Kitty’s Men(?))

(Hallritt has been tasked to guard the theatre for the night and his lord, Hello Kitty will attend to watch the play)

(The 1000th Anniversary of the Orchid Theatre(?))

(Merold and Tuxam appearances)

(History of the Orchid Theatre and the playing company)

(Either shenanigans happen—Hallritt, Merold, and Tuxam become actors)

(SEEDs issue happens(?))

(A member of the troupe is possessed by a SEED and attempts to sabotage the play(?))

(As the Orchid Theatre’s Millennium Anniversary approaches,  members of the troupe are injured through things like a falling stage light or rubbish falling on top of them)

(This is overlooked because of the preparations for the Orchid Theatre’s Anniversary but it is suspected to be intentional)

(Rather than a random person, I think it would be more impactful to explore an already written character(?))

(I think Nica might fit the role better(?))

(Still troubled by her past and believes everyone is out to get her(?))

(I wanted the idea that the SEED elevates her emotions to a high degree, especially since it has possessed her for days)

Nica - “Everyone… Everyone is out to get me. I know how they look at me.” “No matter what I do, I’m just despicable and easily hatable.”

Nica - “So to protect myself… I have to hurt others.”

(Nica who doesn’t remember when a SEED possessed her, but starts to receive headaches) (She ignores this in order to prepare for the Millennium Anniversary) 

(Possibly gaps within her memory during the sabotages(?))

(Do you think people can semi-transform into SEEDs(?))

(Imagine being semi-transformed into a SEED and the SEED half of you attacks people while you desperately cry trying to stop yourself but it does nothing)

(These negative emotions only amplify the SEED, and the answer is either having someone remove the SEEd from your body, dying, or abandoning emotion)

Nica - “Everyone looks down on me. Everyone hates me.”

Nica - “They…They—Who even tolerates me… at this point?” “Am I even likable? What does everyone think of me…?”

Nica - “It is quite natural, yes?” “Everything I do… Is to protect myself.”

(Is it dormancy that completely stops the takeover of a SEED, or does the dormancy simply mean a void that the SEED can take over(?)) (Is nothingness a negativity(?))

Nica - “This life is solely for the stage.” “If I have to die, I hope it will be a thrilling act.”

(The SEED feeds into Nica’s intrusive thoughts which leads to hurting her fellow actors) (Albeit, discreetly)

(When Hallritt arrives, Oz does intend to inform him because his hands are busy and gives permission to search the premise of Orchid Theatre)

(Both Tuxam and Merold join along)

(I imagine it isn’t until he last moment everyone realizes that Nica is behind the attacks and confront her about it)

(From this point, they don’t have a motivation as to why)

(I kinda want Nica to lunge the nearest person, that being Merold, with a weapon but Hallritt moves aside and gets stabbed himself)

(And then Nica is semi-transformed into a SEED)

woah!! character dynamics and how i imagined them

(Character Dynamics or How I Imagine Them(?)) -

Hallritt and Merold - Hallritt who wants to get close and Merold who doesn’t want to.

(Merold is willing to cooperate with Hallritt if the situation deems necessary but only tolerates him)

Merold - “As your senior, won’t you do something for me—Hallritt?”

Hallritt - “Sure! Whatever do you need?”

(Hallritt who wants to get along with Merold and willing to do almost anything)

Tuxam - “HALT! This is an abuse of hierarchy, Merold…!”

(I feel like Merold would be the type to make bad excuses to get Hallritt away from him(?)) 

Merold - “It’d be bad if the theatre wasn’t surrounded by rubble… Oh, Hallritt! Why don’t you go over there and clean.”

Hallritt - “I suppose it would be bad. Yes! I’ll go over there!”

Tuxam - “For once, that is true… Merold. You’re coming with. Don’t think you can get away with a bad excuse.”

Merold - “(Sigh). Yeah. Yeah.”

Hallritt and Tuxam - Tuxam who is willing to be dependable and help Hallritt as a senior Knight of Fragaria! He’s more helpful than Merold, but still nagging. Tuxam also helps Hallritt avoid Merold’s plots.

Tuxam - “So… About our lords.”

(Tuxam who tries not being obvious about wanting their lords to meet each other) (Hallritt thinks he’s planning something and it’s obvious that Tuxam trying not to be obvious is being obvious) (Kind, but still nagging)

Merold and Tuxam - Knighted around the same time, they’ve met before when visiting the Orchid Theatre years ago.

(I imagine Merold as someone who frequently teases Tuxam)

(Someone who Merold is comfortable having deep conversations with or reminiscing about the past(?))

Tuxam - “You’re impossible, Merold.”

Merold - “And you’re a riot, Tuxam.”

(If I have to describe Merold on how I write him, I would say its like a love child between how I think Hangyon and Pikero talk) (But Merold has more Hangyon genetics than Pikero’s)

(I should probably elaborate on how I think Merold talks) (But with a flair of arrogance(?))

(I feel like Merold would be the type to bend down to his knees just to annoy Tuxam) 

(Would sorta rest himself on Tuxam as well(?)) (Like sorta leaning onto him and resting his elbow on his head sorta rest)

(I mentioned before, but I wanted to write or mention about Hello Kitty’s previous knight who I’ll dub as “Elliot”)

(To give backstory)

(Elliot, Tuxam, and Merold who visited the Orchid Theatre in a similar situation of celebrating the Orchid Theatre’s 995th Anniversary(?)) (I should probably write a little bit more than that or at least brainstorm it)

(Would 5 years be considered a long time(?))

(The Orchid Theatre having connections with the Hello Kitty Kingdom, MyMelody Kingdom, and Tuxedo sam Kingdom)

(Every 5 - 10 years the lords will come and visit the theatre yet again(?))

(I won’t lie I’ve always been picky about the names I give to characters) (Is “Elliot” too basic???) (I found an anagram maker and put "Hello Kitty" in it and saw Elliot)

Tuxam - “You’re like a bad dream—no…! ! The reminder of the reality (Hangyon and Pikero) I already face!”

Merold - “Wow~ That hurt y’know? I can’t believe Tuxam was capable of being rude.”

Merold - “Did he even grow to become a gentleman at all…?”

Tuxam - “H—Huh…! But I am a gentleman to my very core…?!” “At least I believe so?”

Merold - “Support me, will you?”

Tuxam - “Naturally. Let us eliminate the SEED.”

(Merold who solely focuses on attacking the SEED)

(Tuxam who attempts to multitask helping Merold and keeping surrounding damage to a minimum)

Merold - “Tuxam~ You know trying to keep the theatre from being destroyed is basically impossible!”

Tuxam - “Why not think about the people who’ll have to patch up the theatre…!”

(Possible Story Outline or Events I Want(?)) -

(I want the scenario to reveal Nica as the culprit in a brief flashback but without the context at this point of the story)

(Hallritt is called out by Merold, who snaps him from his daze) (Introduction of the Orchid Theatre)

(If not, I want a dream sequence where Hallritt overhears a few vague words before realizing a sharp pain in his shoulder and a knife has been plunged in that location)

(Hallritt wakes up, and sequence ends where we arrive at the Orchid Theatre)

(I’m unsure if it’ll be effective to a viewer, but it’s a outline so it can be removed whenever)

(Hallritt and Merold with their lords, who have just arrived to the location)

(They’re waiting for someone else, this cues Tuxam’s arrival with his lord)

(Brief mention of the history of the Orchid Theatre, I imagine Oz takes them around a tour of the theatre itself(?)) 

(Mostly for Hallritt)

(Shenanigans ensue, the event will be highly guarded with the presence of 3 lords in the same location) (There’s already guards around the premise, mainly on standby)

(When given the chance, Oz will find a discreet location and inform about reoccurring incidents of actors or members of the troupe getting mysterious hurt(?)) (Because of the upcoming 1000th Anniversary of the Orchid Theatre, there wasn’t time to properly investigate this(?))

(I imagine since the introduction of Oz, you can tell something is up but unsure(?))

(Merold overhears this and joins Hallritt for investigations, Tuxam joins but only because he was about to scold Merold for eavesdropping)

(I personally feel like it’ll be more effective if the audience already knows the culprit and it has to take the characters to realize(?)) (I want it to be more rewarding rather than beating around the bush too much(?))

(I do want this to be time to flesh out new characters as well before the final happens)

(Oz will be approached to start off the mission)

(Rin will be approached to know more about the building plan of the Orchid Theatre)

(Anfora will be approached to understand possible motivation and being a senior member—will share her past experiences)

(Nica will be approached to better understand the play and her character(?)) (Considered talented as an actor) (<—I probably need to think about this a bit more)

Merold - “I can’t imagine you doing anything discreetly.”

Rin - “HaHa! Same!”

(During the final confrontation, Nica lunges Merold with a weapon but Hallritt gets in front of Merold to protect him)

(Hallritt ends up getting stabbed)

(I feel like Merold would feel offended yet somewhat thankful for Hallritt) 

Merold - “YOU. BIG IDIOT.”

Merold - “Do you not understand the title ‘Strongest Knight?’”

(What if final confrontation is done on the Orchid Theatre’s stage and it is a big reveal)

(Merold - “What are you?”)

(Hallritt - “…An idiot sandwich.”)

you know i would compile these notes properly and summarize them but when you’re in a bad mental state and listening to revolutionary girl utena all duel songs can you really?

earth as a character gallery is a banger 

allegory allegorier allegoriest 

the black rose songs are the best frfr

maybe i should make revolutionary girl utena inspired lyrics for fragaria memories

that honestly sounds fun if i can commit to it

WAIT I CAN MAKE ACE ATTORNEY REFERENCES

BUT I HAVENT SEEN IT IN FOREVER WAAAAAAAHHHH

(Outdated grandiose that makes the old appear new)

(Aged like fine wine) (Apple motifs)

(Operates as mainly a stage for performers, but has been modified to be used as a cinema(?)) (both on a stage and has a projector or screen for cinema usage(?))

(i imagine the cinema itself is open at least 2 - 3 times a week and the rest of the days is for the performers of the Orchid Theatre to practice their craft for the next big play(?))

(Beautifully elaborate, has Hello Kitty motifs)

(Also contains Mowzer, Catnip, Fangora, and Grinder motifs of course(?))

(Rather than Mowzer, Catnip, Fangora, and Grinder being lords like Hello Kitty and the others) (I rather have them be historical figures that aren’t around today(?))

(It’s said in lore that the lords somehow ascending into the world of Fragria, so I kinda want the opposite of the 4 coming back to their world instead of death)

(Considered figures that represent the spirit of acting(?))

(Similar to the greek muses of comedy and tragedy) (the smiling and frowning masks i mean) (imagine their faces plastered as masks similar to the theatre masks(?)) (like what im saying is a comedy mask with characteristics similar to catnip or grinder(?))

(i should really learn a little bit about theatres… i have somewhat relied on wikipedia but that can only go so far)

i did try writing a fragraia memories revolutionary girl utena song but I don't really know if its really fragmem? Spirit circuit—illusionary deficient, a cruel hook dangles the prey midair Lo’! — Awake from dream. the hook, fish, or the fisherman? Sealed, Spilled, Anchored. Forbidden life’s mead bleeds. Forbidden landscapes defy the unreal.  Naturality pacifies and requites the unnatural. Beloved, Unreal Realness. Are you surprised? It’s a big mistake to think you’re the only one who can turn into a car. I’m a car now too!

i promise the last line is real just look up revolutionary girl utena car scene

[flockrest]

     The fight dies on his tongue, and the words it leaves behind taste like cold ashes in his beak. The world must have stuttered, must have churned to a grinding stop, 'cause suddenly there's nothing else beyond Kido, and Mr. Link, and the spear he holds out like a tribute or some remittance or an apology.

     There's a hitch in his breath. A gasp that takes and takes and keeps on taking, and it's all he can do to keep his voice from trembling to an unrecognisable point — to swallow everything his dad makes him feel for the too-many-est time as he croaks, incomplete, "Where'd—?"

     Kido feels himself leave. He feels himself go far, far away, climbing in some ineffable flight where nobody and nothing can ever catch him. Not realisation or fear or bitterness or grief — but it's not far enough, it's not far enough, there are still stupid tears springing to his eyes, bursting and spilling over even as he swears he feels nothing.

     He looks away— no, he can't, he can't look away no matter how much he wants to 'cause this is his dad's, this is his dad. He can't look away from that scrap of cloth tied to the spear's shaft, torn and dulled; nor can he turn from the jutting feather by its head, pinned by young, unpractised wings and secured with an indulgent laugh.

     It's the same green. It's the same green he remembers.

     He blacks out for a moment.

     Or maybe it's that he refuses to think on how he got here — how he's suddenly collapsed by Revali's Landing, held in someone's embrace, one touch removed from cracking and screeching everything he's been wanting nobody to know to everybody who can listen.

     The feathers surrounding him aren't green, the way his dad's are ( were ).

     The feathers surrounding him are so familiar, the way his dad's aren't ( never will be again ).

     "Let me go," someone says on Kido's behalf, 'cause that can't be him. That can't be Kido's voice: stretched impossibly thin, pitched disgustingly high — with fury or pain or any other thing he can't be feeling over the cluster-void of nothing right now. "Let me go, let me GO, LET ME GO, LET ME—"

     The shame will come later. When the gaping hole of nothing-and-everything, carved out where his hope had been, is patched over with threadbare fabric and slapdash stitches. It will come, and Kido will feel awful for fighting-shrieking-crumbling-keening — but for now, he's just a fledgling who can't understand why his dad's left him behind again. He's just a fledgling who can't understand why Dad won't come back, after everything Kido's felt and done and believed in.

     What was so important out there?

     What stupid thing was more important than anything out there?

     What stupid, stupid thing is it about Kido that makes returning — makes staying — not important enough?

[mono-socke]

I'm very tempted to rewrite the halloween scene in bmc

(This post contains mentions of r/pe and s€xual ass/lt)

like, it's not like I'm judging the way it was written, no question

but like, it lowkey bothers me how jeremy is so fvcking close to get SA'd and the SQUIP was just,, there, doing nothing, almost encouraging it. and, I get that they were trying to get jeremy to have his first sexual encounter, but that was not fucking okay

dude, your host is fucking telling youh to 'make it stop' because he is clearly uncomfortable and they're just like, 'I dOn'T uNdErStAnD tHe ReQuEsT' you bitch

I know the squip treated jeremy bad before, no question, but I really fucking hated that scene the most

I'm not excusing or apologizing Chloe's actions btw! what she was trying was terrible and should not have happened. but,, she is a teenager. she's a (a bit dumb) drunk teenager who didn't know any better. (not saying that's excusing it tho)

however! the squip knew what she was trying to do. they knew that jeremy didn't want this, but they didn't fucking care and even forced him to stay, against his will

jeremy was almost lucky chloe made him drink so the squip had a shutdown. I don't wanna know what would've happened if jeremy hadn't drunk something...

so, I lowkey wanna rewrite that scene. not in a way that would change how everything afterwards happened (tpc, the play, vimh, etc) but just in a way that that part doesn't happen

[randomnameless]

I've been reading your headcannon posts, but i wonder why you thought saint luca was lycaon?

i never thought so many people would get interested in this random stuff lol but thanks!

I think it was when the porn - I mean, the Tome of Comely Saints was datamined, and we got a mention of Saint Luca, which immediately made me wonder about the Luca golem -

If Rhea has a Chevalier Golem and a Willy Golem, given how we know those two persons were important to her (Chevalier helped her after the WoH with the Rite of Rising and was an apostle (maybe another sib?) and Willy was, well, Willy) then Luca the Golem references a RL Luca who must also have been someone important, like Willy and Chevalier were?

And now, with Nopes, we know Luca was also a Saint (the artbook mentionned way more saints than the 4 ones we all know'n'love!)...

But then, the lizard paralogue happened and I took a closer look at Lycaon and wondered, since the names are sort of similar, if Luca wasn't a diminutive of Lycaon, since we also have the same stuff with Supreme Leader being called by her close ones "El".

Maybe it was a tradition in the Imperial line (starting with Willy) ?

[zecoritheweirdone]

[slowly pokes my head inside the tftsmp tag] hullo? hullo hullo? anybody there?

i kept seeing tftsmp posts on my dash occasionally, recently,, and like. i was reminded of this really really old wild west fic idea i made a while back? so long back that i don't actually remember when,, because i only really shared it in a few discord servers, and never got that much of a response from it,,, and so i never did anything with it.

but since the tag is actually, like. sort of being used, now? i figured... i'd give y'all an offering, mayhaps?

n-e-ways,,, hehehehhhhoooo au where john john and the bandits are ghosts, ft. my rushed art.

it's been, like– maybe a year or so since i even thought about this idea,, so i'm afraid i don't have much to share outside of a small handful of snippets,, sksjsksjsk. but like. basically, all four of them become ghosts, and then... ghost shenanigans, basically.