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frownyalfred · 26 days ago

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Arkham Prince - Masterlist of Posts

I've linked the major asks below with a preview (edited for length) below, grouped by subject/theme and rough chronological order of how I received them. Additional shorter asks/clarifying questions, as well as shorter bits of commentary are at the very bottom.

The very first post:

I have been thinking about the idea of Bruce going insane without being Batman, about Batman being his coping mechanism, and that reblog that was like "he would definitely have ended up in Arkham if he didnt make Batman." Now I'm thinking of an AU where that is exactly the case, and maybe Clark expands his interest towards Gotham a bit, as much as he doesnt like heroing there, because it is the neighbor city of Metropolis. It's like his backyard. And maybe he wants to understand the problem of Gotham at the root, so he goes as Clark Kent, reporter, to interview the patients at Arkham, and there meets Bruce Wayne. Maybe falls in love. Maybe its angsty as fuck because this Bruce is 10 times less adjusted than the Bruce we're used to, but of course, equally as brilliant. (Maybe he could escape any time he wanted but thinks he would murder people if so. Maybe he doesnt trust his anger.)

Expanding Asks:

the idea of arkham patient bruce wayne has burrowed into the depths of my mind. this is SUCH a fascinating thought and changes so many things…how does the justice league fare without batman? how does alfred? i’d assume alfred is given bruce’s guardianship when he’s institutionalized, and i could even see him taking in the robins – finding and helping these children who remind him so much of his own boy, trying not to fail them as he failed bruce. how bruce himself does in arkham is so interesting to consider…is he kept on the same level of security as the real supervillains? is he moved there after Events?

Clark, realizing the League has a problem, a trap from someone like Lex they don't know how to unknot, something which requires finesse and strategy which is a little beyond them... taking that stroll (flight) down to Gotham, feeling insane himself for seeking advise here of all places... but the Arkham Prince delivers. Clark explains the situation, answers questions that he had no idea related to the issue, and Bruce hands him the solution in the span of 10 minutes, while the League had been brainstorming and going in circles over this for days...

Clark Kent and the Arkham Prince Finding Common Ground:

clark’s first attempt to interview the prince of arkham go about as well as you might expect, given that he’s a reporter with sunshine all but seeping out of his pores. the first time bruce doesn’t even talk to him, too furious at the gall of this metropolitan newshound to interrogate him for the sake of some gruesome, sensationalist op-ed obviously about the tragedy of the family wayne and the irredeemable mire of gotham to do anything more than death-glare at him for the entire length of the meeting. but clark, unsatisfyingly, doesn’t give up after that. if bruce doesn’t talk to him, he sure talks to bruce, and with each subsequent interview the questions…change. no longer trying to establish facts about bruce’s life or his crimes, not asking about his experience in arkham, not even going for the low-hanging fruit of why’d you train for years to kill those people, but seemingly random and unrelated things. he wants bruce’s opinions on emissions policies (need to be stricter and more tightly enforced, especially in gotham, jesus, there’s a reason lung cancer and asthma rates are through the roof) and lex luthor’s keynote speeches (unprintable, wiped from clark’s tape recorder in case luthor somehow finds out) and whether or not clark should buy a new suit (why bother, it won’t be any less tragic than every other polyester abomination he cruelly forces bruce to look at every time he stops by). clark slowly and stubbornly makes himself as much a part of bruce’s routine as visits with alfred and lucius and the doctors, and all the while superman is playing a high-stakes game of mental chess with the sinking suspicion that bruce wayne has already won in more ways than one bruce figures out kent is superman about three hours after the first time big blue gets namedropped during an interview. he commences with a plan that is part honeypot, part campaign of psychological warfare, and part genuine bid to get this midwestern alien who holds the safety of his city in his hands to try and give a damn like a proper gothamite would, like no one but bruce ever seems to.

Clark, whose one of his grestest fears is being constrained, treated as a threat, dissected, studied, as the alien specimen he is. He has to pretend. He had to be so careful. Every day or he won't have a life to live.

Clark asking the Arkham Prince to Consult for the JL:

i would kill to have clark-as-supes get some kind of special dispensation to bring arkham prince bruce to the jl hideout (the watchtower doesn’t to be without batman’s engineering/logistics knowhow and WE funding, at least not until bruce is more formally considered a consultant) for help on one of lex’s more convoluted and immediate threats. it’s just not possible for bruce to solve the problem in isolation without the league’s resources, so instead of bringing league missions to bruce superman has to bring bruce to the league mission. i started imagining the team’s reaction to their unwitting reliance on criminally insane mass murderer bruce wayne and then i remembered oliver exists and now i feel only sadness thinking about that particular reunion

Just wondering how regular JL universe would react to meeting this au, meeting Batman and seeing Bruce Wayne's potential Would they realize that their Bruce is limited by what he can do inside Arkham, but that this Batman is also limited by his own rules and codes. Would Ollie be crushed at what his former friend could have been, thinking maybe if he had stepped up and been a "better friend" Bruce wouldn't be in Arkham, he could of been working beside him instead. Can imagine Batman saying "I don't kill" and Bruce just smiling in what should have been the brucie smile and replying "but I do"

The crossover is so funny in regards to Supes. Like here's Arkham Prince AU Clark, terribly in love with a version of Bruce who is so unavailable to him on so many levels, aching with it every time he dares think about it, staring at Regular Universe Clark in complete and utter disbelief. (expansion of "regular JL universe" ask above)

Your take on Prince of Arkham's level of influence on JL members, at the top being of course Clark. And also: first time he is taken into the JL base, does he hack into their systems?

OMG arkham bruce and clark have gotten closer and maybe clark makes bruce promise not to kill again after bruce gets out of arkham so he can join the jl but then someone is killed and theres evidence it was bruce but bruce swears it wasnt him ( bc it wasn’t him ) but theres so much evidence that even clark is starting to doubt bruces innocence and the jl has to kick him out and hes taken back to Arkham or for interrogation and then ANGST BRUCE BEING TORTURED FOR CONFESSION BUT HE STILL SWEARS HE DIDNT DO IT until its proven that he didnt do it

@bat-chik's Harvey Dent Visits Bruce in Arkham

"We can't even claim self defense," Harvey continued. "You-" "He has cancer." Harvey blinked at the non-sequitur, "What?" Finally, the orphaned Wayne turned and faced him, face blank, unconcerned about how much more this action would add to his sentencing. Unconcerned except for the steel eyes seething yet holding back so much hurt. Harvey remembered once again, with a small pang, why he had gotten a crush on Bruce in their college days. "Nygma. He has cancer. The only way to get medical care in Arkham is by ending up in the hospital wing." Bruce moved with all the weight of the world on his shoulders and sat in the bolted chair across from his lawyer, and life long friend.

Where are the Batkids in This?

pls consider. a dick greyson who gets tossed in arkham after tracking down and torturing then killing killing his parent's murderer. tiny and lost now that what was driving him is done. a bruce wayne who hasnt been in That long yet, not long enough for people to see him as a threat rather than just an oddity, who takes one look at that angry little kid and says "oh. oh that ones mine" and spends as much time with the kid as he can. and bruce Loves gotham, thats his whole drive. but to dick, gotham is nothing but the place his world crumbled. and i think this bruce never sat with his feelings of grief either. i think he always needed a cause. and i think he saw dick having lost his cause and tries to help him find another (id like to put forth escaping as a hobby, managing to get into Any part of arkham that he pleases especially with his athleticism and small size)

It would be funny if in the Arkham Prince AU, since all the kids are in there for being um - gremlins and down with murder - that Jason in this was the pacifist?

Re: Jason being the pacifist: "I will follow you forever because you killed him." Endlessly devoted Jason my beloved. If you give him one (1) positive attention he will light himself on fire to keep you warm. I love him so much. Self destructive king.

Tim committing a crime just to end up in Arkham and study the famed insane Bruce Wayne is actually startlingly in character for him...

Clarifying Asks:

when do you see him as getting committed? was he already batman? did he already have any of his kids? if not, what *happened* to those kids who never had bruce to fight for them?

Okay, but since Bruce is the Prince of Arkham, whats stopping his kids from being in there with him?

Oh I am sooooooooo curious about what Clark thinks about Arkham Bruce having a gaggle of prison murder children.…you ever think he’s asked Dick to give Clark flowers during one of his escapes????? Or is that too corny for them.

I've seen some Arkham Prince asks and responses referring to Bruce still being rich, but would he still be?

Additional Thoughts:

i am torn between the other Inmates Hating bruce (hes the picture of those who hurt them. a rich man who is just like them but gets Way less pain for it) and adoring him

Picture this, Alfred goes to see Haly's, sees another black haired blue eyed child losing his parents at just about the same age. Another feral child with murder in his eyes.

it’s extremely important to me to consider arkham prince bruce with longer, shaggy hair and a perpetual three-day beard

The smut in the Arkham Prince AU would be INSANE.

This Arkham Prince AU has folks in a choke hold but ya'll forget one thing. The Joker and Harley Quinn.

god i am just exploding thinking about bruce and sex in the arkham prince au. there is absolutely no way he’s not accustomed to exchanging sex for favors, information, anything he wants or needs. (additional thoughts on how Clark fits into this/Superbat)

Okay hi so my main source of Arkham knowledge is the Penguin show so I’m gonna ramble a bit about factions and divides and stuff. (Sofia Falcone expansion)

continuing my thoughts on Sofia Falcone coming off your great opinions to my last ask.

There is a parallel thread between Bruce and Sofia

#arkham prince #arkham prince au #batman #bruce wayne #dc #asks #anon #batfamily #clark kent #superman #superbat #jl #justice league #fic ideas #fic outline

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vamptizm · 2 months ago

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PHOTOBOOTH — p. bueckers

summary — you tell paige that you love her for the first time, inside a photobooth (inspired by that tiktok trend)

pairing — paige bueckers x reader

genre — fluff fluff fluff

warnings — paige has a motorcycle lol. shitty writing.

note — this was written ages ago abt no one in particular tbh so don’t be surprised if it doesn’t live up to my usual writing i just feel like publishing this for whoever might wanna read it after the game lol

it was an unusually calm and comfortable day at uconn. for once you didn’t have to deal with the usual mountain of problems on your shoulders or unbearably long practice hours. it was just perfect, in your opinion.

“can we go to the mall?”, you asked a relaxed paige who was sitting next to you on the sofa, with your legs thrown over her lap. paige’s thumb had been drawing shapes onto the exposed skin of your thighs while scrolling through her phone, as the side of your head leaned against the backrest, silently admiring her beautifully sculpted side profile, as if memorizing each angle and curve.

paige wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of crowded malls and going out on days off, — she preferred shopping online — so it only came to your surprise when the blonde nodded her head at your suggestion. “sure, baby.”

not wanting to ruin it for yourself with any questions, you smiled brightly and lifted yourself from off of her and the couch. standing straight in front of her, you held onto both of his hands to ‘pull’ her up. paige pretended to struggle in lifting herself up without your help.

“damn, ma. when did you get so strong?”, she teased you with a grin on her lips once she was standing on her own two feet.

you simply rolled your eyes in faux annoyance and proceeded to drag her out of the apartment and towards her motorcycle. back then, you had been deathly afraid of the vehicle that you liked to call a ‘death trap’, but after countless times of riding in the back of it with paige, you learned to trust the girl and her beloved motorcycle. you were her little backpack, as she liked to call it. you knew she would never let anything happen to you, especially since she insisted that you wear the helmet at all times, despite voicing your wishes of letting the wind blow through your hair and feeling it on your face.

after visiting countless of stores and with multiple bags held by your girlfriend, you gasped once you saw an empty photobooth. you happily dragged her towards it by the hand that was less full. paige hadn’t complained a single time, the smile on your face and the way your eyes sparkled whenever you bought something that you liked was like a reward to her, especially when she was the one buying it for you. it’s as if your constant protests of not wanting her to spend money on you, went in one ear and out the other.

the chair of the booth was small, so naturally you found yourself sitting on top of the girl’s lap as you faced the camera and waited for the countdown. what paige didnt know, is that you had something very important to tell her.

“don’t make ugly faces”, you jokingly warned her.

once the countdown had reached zero, the first pose you and paige did was a normal one. two cute and happy smiles for the camera, with the sides of your faces softly pressed up against each other and your arms wrapped around her neck, while her’s draped over your waist.

in the second photo, you turned your face towards paige and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, causing the girl to smile wider than she had before.

before the click for the third picture went off, you leaned a bit closer towards paige’s ear. “i love you so much. did you know that?”, you softly whispered.

paige turned to you in disbelief, a look of genuine surprise on her face as she stared at you with a soft gaze and hearts in her eyes.

before the last click went off, paige gently wrapped his hand around your throat and pulled you in for a deep kiss, just in time for the camera to capture it.

“i love you more”.

#⇢ ˗ˏˋ vamptizm writes ࿐ྂ #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies

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thydungeongal · 3 months ago

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So there is a pretty clear shift in playstyle between TSR D&D and WotC D&D: for better and for worse, D&D 3e introduced the idea of encounter balance, de-emphasized mechanics that had previously encouraged the GM to think of the monsters as real living creatures (reaction rolls, morale, etc.), and it had the effect of making D&D a much more combat-focused game. D&D has always been a game that's opinionated about combat, it's basically the most expressive and detailed form of play regardless of edition, but combat in the TSR editions was not exactly zoomed in and tactical. The WotC editions purposefully made combat zoomed in, granular, and tactical.

And this has had an effect on playstyle: since combat is now the main form of player expression what players actually want is for their characters to get into combat. Because combat is the most fun part of the game. But the game has also changed from the largely amoral dungeon-crawling game into a game of fantasy heroics (even though a lot of the trappings of the amoral dungeon-crawling still remain, which contributes to the dissonance), so you can't just have the player characters going into combat for the sake of it. That would frame the player characters as kind of Fucked Up, and we can't have that in our supposedly heroic fantasy.

What you end up with is a variety of contrivances like "they're bandits," "they're cultists," or, my all-time favorite, "they attacked first" to make the action seem morally justifiable, even though gameplay is still motivated by a desire to fight. The monsters fight to the death and, importantly, can often not be reasoned and negotiated with, partly because combat is supposed to be the fun, engaging part everyone is here to do, but also because if they actually acted like reasonable people it could cause dissonance with the whole "the player characters are the goodest heroes."

As my friend @tenleaguesbeneath once called it: what is actually going on is that the player characters are hunting people and monsters who have been programmed to fight to the death and never negotiate for sport, while justifying it as self-defence.

It's a simple power fantasy, and I don't think there's anything wrong with it. Sometimes you want to play a morally uncomplicated game about killing guys with cool magic swords. But I think it's also fun to think about what the specific types of monsters players end up fighting reveals about Society the invisible, unexamined ideology lying under the surface that the designers of even modern D&D have failed to examine. And to me it often reads like a frontier justice fantasy. None of that is to detract from anyone's joy of the game, and for me it's just fun to think about and post about this stuff while Still Enjoying the Game, but if someone expressing that opinion makes you feel uncomfortable, why? That's pretty silly imo.

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hyperfixatinator · 5 months ago

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Where is the line?

In the comics, Tim Drake's moral code is an enigma to me, particularly his stance on the Batclan's no-kill rule. For all the fans who say he's always one step away from full blown villainy, there are even more saying he's a strict goody two-shoes who could never stoop that low.

Then there's the different takes on where Tim draws the line between these two extremes. Personally, I find that line hard to pinpoint. Digging for canon demonstrations of his morals has lead me to more questions than answers. My biggest question right now is:

What counts as breaking the no-kill rule in Tim's eyes?

Luckily, the Robins 2021 comics shed some light on this. In issue #3, "Tim", or rather an imposter of him, said that choosing not to save someone isn't the same as killing them, and that letting a villain die can be a way to get justice. Normally, this point would be moot since it's not Tim himself who said it. However, at the end of issue #6, the real Tim clarified that what the imposter said WAS his real opinion on the matter.

Not only that, but Tim has shown this belief through his thoughts and actions before. Twice.

The first time goes all the way back to Robin 1991 #5. During the fight against King Snake, Tim kicked him through a nearby window, fifty stories above the ground. As King Snake's life hung in the balance, Shiva appeared and commanded Tim to kill him.

Tim refused. He walked away, leaving King Snake entirely at Shiva's mercy.

What gets me is that Tim made no move to save King Snake from falling. And he made no effort to stop Shiva from committing the murder, either. His only thought as he heard the man's scream was "Fifty stories is a long way to fall."

The second time was in Red Robin 2009 #26. Tim orchestrated a whole plan to manipulate Captain Boomerang into getting killed by Mr. Freeze. The whole time, Tim blamed Captain Boomerang for making all those bad choices, despite Tim being the one raising the chances of them being made. Tim believed he was innocent because he wasn't directly participating.

Tim then stopped that plan, but not for any noble reason. He decided that he couldn't let anyone else kill Captain Boomerang but himself.

Tim couldn't bring himself to do that, either. So he had to spare his father's killer in the end.

This seems pretty cut and dry so far, right? Tim believing that letting villains die is alright as long he doesn't do the deed himself? I'd think so too, if there weren't other moments contradicting this.

In Robin #35, Steph insisted on leaving an enemy who got buried under the snow to die. Tim chastised her for it.

Neither of them were responsible for the snow, or for the enemy getting trapped in it. Plus, that guy tried to kill them with a chainsaw moments prior, so he's not exactly an innocent damsel in distress.

Maybe it was because this enemy wasn't a big enough fish to fry. We didn't really get confirmation that this guy has actually killed before, and he's around goon status at best.

But then in Robin #46, Tim chose to save another enemy who got himself into a deadly situation. That enemy was a murderer known as Young El. This time, Tim wasn't telling anyone else why they should save a murderer's life out loud. These were his private thoughts.

Notice how Tim's inner monologue sounded kind of on-the-fence. He contemplated justice finally catching up with Young El as the floorboards gave way, bringing a support beam down on him in the process.

However, Tim immediately switched gears to rescue Young El from under that beam before the water rose too high.

But Tim, as he told Young El the reasons he's saving him, asked himself "Do I even believe what I'm saying?" He could be asking this about two different things he said here. A) "Maybe it's not too late for you to learn something, Young El.", or B) "Death's easier for you when it's the other guy. Death's never been easy for me."

For Tim to doubt his belief in either of these statements is very interesting. He could be questioning if Young El is already too far gone for redemption, or he could be questioning if seeing someone die has never been easy for himself. For all we know, it could be both.

Unfortunately, Tim never got to see if his choice to save him would pay off. Tim wasn't strong enough to lift that beam, and Young El drowned.

There's a question on my mind as I read these pages. What makes this murderer's death different from when Tim let King Snake fall to his "death"? Sure, King Snake didn't actually die, but Tim didn't know that until later when the man came looking for revenge in Gotham.

Tim was once able to simply walk away from what he was certain would be a killer's demise. But then he's consumed by guilt over not being able to prevent a different killer's death down the line, to the point of hallucinating.

On top of that, what changed Tim's mind later? Red Robin #26 and Robins 2021 #3-6 still happened in the future. The only significant difference I can tell is that these two comics involved the killer's of Tim's parents, making it personal. But if the Imposter from Robins 2021 got his beliefs from his profile before his mother's killer got involved, then does that still hold up?

Maybe we should put a pin on it for now. There are other things Tim's done that brings the details of his no-kill rule into question.

Such as that one time Tim actually killed someone with his bare hands.

In Robin issues #51-52, Tim accidentally killed Lady Shiva while drugged on amarilla, a plant that enhances the user's speed beyond human limitations.

It may be argued if the amarilla altered Tim's mind enough to excuse him of fault or not. However, I want to focus on what happened after Shiva was revived. Here's another question to go with the first one:

Does Tim believe the kill still counts if the victim was revived afterwards?

From what I've gathered, yes and no. It's kind of complicated.

After Tim killed Shiva, he was understandably distressed about it, about how he can never take it back.

But after Shiva came back to life? Nothing. He didn't dwell on the fact he broke the vow to never kill. For something that devastating to happen in his life, it's odd that Tim didn't bring it up ever again, privately or otherwise. Especially considering what happened later in Robin #123, when Tim thought he killed Johnny Warlock.

Tim was utterly inconsolable. He lost all faith in his abilities as Robin, and in himself as a whole. It also contributed to his decision to quit being Robin after his dad found out. In general, he seriously dwelled on that "kill" for a much longer time than he had after killing Shiva. The difference being that he knew Shiva was resuscitated immediately afterwards, while Tim didn't know Johnny survived until issue #141.

But there's the fact that Shiva really did die. Her heart and breathing both stopped. So are we to believe Tim moved on from that so easily because she's alive now? What happened to never getting that back?

Come to think of it, not long after Tim killed and revived Shiva, there was someone else who landed in that same boat. Dick.

In Joker: The Last Laugh #6, Dick brutally attacked the Joker after believing he killed Tim. Dick ended up accidentally killing Joker instead, before the clown was resuscitated.

Here's the thing. While Tim was trying to comfort Dick, saying that it's ok because Joker's alive now, Dick didn't believe so. He was still distraught that he killed someone. The fact Joker came back to life afterwards didn't matter to him. To Dick, it still counted. So what does that say about Tim?

Before we move on, there's another person Tim knows who also died and came back from the grave. Jason.

Tim openly acknowledged Jason was killed before coming back, too. Multiple times. For example, when they met up in Red Hood and the Outlaws 2011 #8.

Tim hadn't shown any signs that he thinks Jason's murder doesn't count anywhere, except for maybe once.

In Knight Terrors: Robin #2, Tim and Jason had a heart-to-heart, and Tim said something strange.

"You survived."

Except Jason didn't survive. He died. To say Jason survived that night would've meant he never died to begin with. Him being alive now doesn't change that. Was this Tim telling a white lie to make Jason feel better? Or does Tim see being revived after death as "surviving"?

Ok, now we can move onto the next question. Or rather, bear with me as we go back to the first question. It's a broad topic with plenty more to talk about.

What does Tim count as breaking the no-kill rule?

We already asked how Tim feels about bringing villains back from the dead after killing them. And we asked how Tim feels about leaving a villain to die without getting directly involved. However, we still don't know how much involvement Tim needs to have in an enemy's death before he'll take responsibility for it.

We can confirm he won't mercy kill in Red Robin #21, even if it means giving someone a fate worse than death. No exceptions.

Tim also doesn't allow anyone he's actively teaming up with to kill, especially if he's the one in command. He's been amicable with known killers before (Huntress and Pru, for example), but only when they remain non-lethal while working alongside him.

Apart from that, though, it becomes less clear. However, I think this is a good place to expand on when Tim blew up a lot of League of Assassins bases in Red Robin #8.

I'm not going into whether or not those explosions actually killed anyone. I've seen evidence supporting both sides of this debate, so I'm just going to say it's up to interpretation. What I AM talking about is whether or not Tim would've felt responsible if they had killed someone.

Before overloading every generator in the LOA database, Tim gave a warning to the Wanderer. He told her that he couldn't be held responsible for what would happen to her if she didn't leave.

After initiating the explosions, Tim warned the White Ghost that they had fifteen seconds to leave before it was too late.

Fifteen seconds. That explanation on the mistake of letting him in might've taken roughly another fifteen to twenty seconds. Did the other bases even get a full minute head start? The way some of the people were already running away could imply they at least got a warning, but it's possible they might not have.

Even if everyone in every base received a warning, would that be enough for Tim to avoid holding himself accountable if they didn't make it out in time? Tim's the one who rigged the bases to explode, but I guess giving someone a warning means it's now their fault for not heeding it?

We can't be sure he even considered the possibility of those explosions killing anyone. Tim knew they were dangerous enough to bring the whole Cradle down, and the other ones we saw looked pretty powerful (except the ones in Ra's hideout). But Tim also called Ra's a murderer right after that happened, which would've been very hypocritical if Tim himself thought he committed murder.

So, my guess is either A) Tim relied on sheer luck for those explosions not causing any casualties and chose to believe they hadn't, or B) Tim didn't believe the deaths of anyone caught in them would be his fault.

Again, this isn't about whether or not blowing up the LOA bases killed anyone. It's about how willing Tim was to take that risk, and if he would've blamed himself for anyone getting killed from it.

Either way, it's canon that Tim had no guilt for the explosions he caused, or for anything he did before Red Robin #22. Just ask the Sword of Sin.

This is an exerpt I got from the Fandom DC Database on the Sword of Sin:

"The Sword of Sin can be ignited with the mind of the wielder, if the person is powerful enough. The sword has the ability to conjure in the mind its victims all of the sins for which they are guilty or have not atoned for."

When Tim was stabbed with this sword, he was immune. The Sword of Sin decided he was innocent. Although, I have to ask how reliable this sword was in making that judgement. If the sword is judging others based on its own set principles, then something's not right here.

The Sword of Sin was also used on Dick, and he wasn't immune. It dug into Dicks subconscious and unearthed memories he'd long since repressed. Memories of himself watching a boy get beaten to near death, and then doing nothing. He just walked away.

Now, tell me why the sword brought this to light, but not the time Tim left King Snake to die!

It wasn't an accident. Tim deliberately chose to leave instead of trying to save this man from the murderous Lady Shiva. Sure, Tim was no match for Shiva and he might've not been able to stop her, but the same could be said for an eight year old Dick not stopping a group of much older kids. Neither of them tried to stop the attackers.

Tim didn't atone for it, either. When King Snake returned in Batman #469, Bruce told King Snake that it wasn't Tim who left him to die. We know that's a lie, but Tim never corrected this. He let Shiva take all the blame.

We have two instances of a boy choosing not to prevent someone from having a near death experience. One guilty, and one innocent.

Did the Sword of Sin think Tim was justified because King Snake was corrupt? That doesn't sound holy to me.

Was it because Tim didn't feel any guilt over it, while Dick did? Can the sword's judgement be thrown off by the victim not feeling any shred of guilt over their actions, even subconsciously?

That could make sense given what we know Tim did in the past: King Snake falling, the vandalism (explosions), and ALL the lying over the years (Tim reviving Shiva might count as atonement, so I'm not including that). If the sword based its judgement on God's will alone, then odds are high it would've picked up on one of these.

Even so, I'm not going to sit here and say this is definitely the case. I'm not familiar enough with how the sword effects other characters to make that call.

If this is indeed false, then did the DC universe's version of God decide to pardon Tim of his sins when he prayed earlier that same issue, despite him not believing he had any? I mean, who knows, right?

You can probably see why there's more questions than answers. The point is Tim didn't have any guilt for the things he did before Red Robin #22. Tim was canonically convinced he had nothing to atone for.

So then why did he say the opposite later in Knight Terrors: Robin #2?!

In the heart-to-heart between Tim and Jason, Tim tells him this:

"You have a lot to atone for...We all do..."

Tim knows that the words "we all" include him, right? By saying this, Tim admitted to also having things he needs to atone for, right?

Is this another white lie to make Jason feel better? Is it one of those slight changes the New 52 made to the canon? If not, then why did he change his mind? Did his no-kill rule change and make him feel guilty for some past actions? Is it not the no-kill rule, but something else?

What changed?!

Where does Tim draw the line?

I don't know. We've narrowed it down to a general area, but it's kinda hard to see a line when it's so blurred it could be a gradient.

Tim baffles me. He acts as a steady moral compass for others when he can't even seem to stay consistent with his own. You're free to call it poor writing (and honestly, fair), but I find his hypocrisy fascinating.

That's what it is, isn't it? Tim's a hypocrite who's completely oblivious to being one. And it's not like this was never mentioned in the comics before. Damian called him out on it!

In Batman & Robin 2011 #10, Damian confronted Tim about his near-murderous reaction when Fist Point killed Artemis (Teen Titans Vol 4 annual #1). Damian then accused Tim of constantly rejecting him because they have more in common than Tim's willing to admit.

It's debatable how accurate that accusation was, but Tim had a pretty volatile reaction to it.

"I believe in every choice I make!"

Does he? I don't think someone who's so sure of what he believes in would contradict himself to this extent. Especially if he wasn't doing it on purpose.

He wouldn't vehemently push Bruce's no-kill rule onto others and berate them for bending that rule, only to go and bend that same rule himself when the Batclan isn't around. He also wouldn't exploit what he thinks are loopholes, decide later that those loopholes broke the no-kill rule, and then earnestly claim he never broke it.

Why is he like this?! He's had arguably the most normal childhood out of the whole Batclan before becoming Robin! What could've made him so fickle about this?!

Where does he draw the line? And how will he know when he's crossed it?

#batman #dc #robin #tim drake #red robin #theory #analysis #long post #tim drake is a menace #unhinged tim drake #To think all of this was written without mentioning Tim's corrupt future selves #or the numerous times he's actually contemplated or attempted murder #Believe me I would've loved to add 5-10 more screenshots of those moments alone #but I hit the 30 image limit :(#Anyway I want to study Tim in a lab #Feedback is welcome #I'm aware I hadn't read all the DC comics so I could've missed something

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marcelinenocturne · 15 days ago

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᧙ Just a note about how great könig and *ೃ

Minors DNI! ⌑ Inspiration link (๑´`๑)

Warnings: My opinion, fluffy headcanons, König’s big body struggles

• • ┈┈┈┈ ๑ ⋅ ⋯ 🖇️ ⋯ ⋅ ๑ ┈┈┈┈ • •

When people mention that König is a big guy, some might picture a tall and lean man. But for me, that’s hard to believe. Others imagine him as a wall of pure muscle, with a physique akin to a bodybuilder, simply because it’s "visually appealing." However, this completely ignores the military context he comes from.

His body was literally trained to be resilient and strong—exactly what the army looks for. Ever seen a heavyweight lifter? You don’t need to be an expert to imagine that beneath all that gear hides a massive guy weighing roughly 100 kilos or more, who probably consumes 4,000 to 6,000 calories daily just to keep up.

To be honest, I can only picture his large, thick chest paired with broad, veiny arms, his body easily twice the size of an average man. I think about his slightly bloated belly after a buffet—because let’s be real, the restaurant probably took a loss after König kept calling the poor waiter over every two minutes.

Have you ever tried shopping for clothes for your “pet bear”? Fancy brand shirts struggle to contain him, with the buttons at the top stretched so tight they give you a sneak peek of his skin beneath. Or his massive biceps refusing to let the sleeves even make it past his arms. Meanwhile, you’re standing outside the fitting room, hearing him mutter curses in German.

If you’re brave enough to peek inside, you’ll probably catch him trapped in some poor one-size-fits-all shirt. And don’t even get me started on pants—those things always get stuck halfway up his thick, round thighs. He’ll be visibly annoyed because he really liked the pants, but alas, there’s no bigger size. Poor König. Clothes that fit his upper body end up baggy in other areas because they’re made for overweight frames rather than muscular ones.

You can try to comfort him by saying he looks better without clothes anyway, but all you’ll get in return is one of those “don’t tempt me” stares. Speaking of his struggles with clothing, König faces an even greater punishment with underwear. The elastic bands are often too tight, and while some brands accommodate “above-average” sizes in the front, nobody seems to think about guys with big butts. His underwear ends up too short in the back, leaving the edges of his perfect, round cheeks exposed like a pair of tempting melons barely contained by micro-shorts. He’d be so flustered and grumpy about it.

But having a König all to yourself has its perks! Lying on him is like lying on a breathing mattress—though sometimes the mattress might let out a cabbage-scented death cloud. Okay, that part isn’t great, but having him as your living bed still has its advantages. Especially when he’s lying on his stomach, and you can throw yourself on top of him, feeling the gradual warmth of his soft, comfy body. His behind, in particular, is irresistibly plush. If you’re the playful type, you might even pretend to “hump” him while he’s face-down. It’d be hilarious—until he flips the script and you’re the one getting wrecked.

To clarify, my take on König is neither that of a bodybuilder nor a big guy without strength or purpose. He’s the real strongman—the kind who could knock someone out with a slap, lift an 80-kilo man and snap his spine, or twist necks like he’s prepping a chicken for stew.

In short, he’s got that famous “dad bod,” but scaled up—not just tall, but wide as well, which is wonderful. No matter how big you are, you’ll always feel small next to him. That warm, soft body could break you if he hugged you too tightly, and isn’t that just perfect? <3

⌑

This post isn’t meant to criticize anyone or their preferences. I just wanted to share how I imagine König beneath the uniform. ૮₍꜆꜄ ˃ ³ ˂ ₎აApologies if I offended anyone ૮₍ ´• ˕ •` ₎ა

Remembering that I am not fluent in English so if there is any error it is the translator app's fault. ૮₍⇀‸↼‶₎ა🇧🇷➛🇺🇸

#könig #könig cod #könig fanfiction #konig x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #big boy

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inaconstantstateofchange · 8 months ago

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okay so when reading the final chapter of svsss volume three, the interactions between yue qingyuan and tianlang-jun are so—

Shen Qingqiu wanted to say something when Tianlang-Jun raised his chin, squinting at Yue Qingyuan. “I remember you.” After thinking for a bit, he said with conviction, “Back then, the Huan Hua Palace’s old geezer wanted you to help him with the ambush, but you ignored him. So you’re the current sect leader of Cang Qiong Mountain? Not bad.” “Your distinguished self’s memory is also quite good.” Tianlang-Jun smiled and smiled, then gave a sigh. “If you were also trapped in a pitch-back darkness for over ten years, unable to glimpse the sky or sun, with nothing to pass the days but for reminiscing over past affairs, your memory would be quite good as well.”

tianlang-jun remembered him, and while yes, it's clear he has a pretty good memory and might also be using it as a way to throw his potential enemy off-balance, it is still a very interesting way to go about it. and the rejoinder yue qingyuan sends back at him, perfectly polite - even respectful! - totally unflappable—tell me you do not see the potential there!!

but never fear, if you are not yet convinced, i have more:

Tianlang-Jun continued to sit upon his stone, completely at ease. “I remember that you also waited until the last moment to draw your sword that day,” he said to Yue Qingyuan. “Doing the same now?” Yue Qingyuan didn’t answer.

tianlang-jun remembered a lot about yue qingyuan, even small details like his sword, and the actions he took (or didn't) upon the day of tianlang-jun's betrayal. to me, this reads as though, even then, he took note of yue qingyuan's power as something to look out for. he is also, despite all of the other people around, primarily engaging in conversation with yue qingyuan.

Tianlang-Jun pulled his hand back and smiled. “Honestly, in the beginning I had no malice, nor did I find fun in the idea of the world burning. I only occasionally crossed the border, coming here to sing songs or read books—it was quite nice. However, since I’ve already been in residence beneath Bai Lu Mountain for so many years, if I don’t follow through on something along the lines of your thoughts, I’d truly find my circumstances a bit too unjustified.” Yue Qingyuan flicked his finger. Xuan Su sprang three inches from its sheath, its spiritual energy seething. The bones of Tianlang-Jun’s body cracked and popped, almost like his joints had been dislocated. He made a sound of surprise. “As expected of a sect leader. Not bad. Your master was quite mediocre but had quite the eye for disciples and successors.”

okay first of all, the tension here is remarkable, and second of all, the compliment at the end—tianlang-jun, for the power level we know he possesses, is being practically effusive with his praise of yue qingyuan's strength something we know to be greatly prized by demons.

this segment follows the previous directly, but i had to give it it's own spotlight, for reasons that i hope will be readily apparent:

Then Tianlang-Jun reached out and grabbed Xuan Su’s blade directly, as if he couldn’t feel a thing. “But why not draw it all the way?” he said with a smile. “You can’t do anything to me with only this much.” Yue Qingyuan’s gaze hardened, and Xuan Su jumped another half-inch from its sheath.

tianlang-jun: oho, you'll need more than that much to handle me, big guy

(jokes aside, considering the rampant spiritual energy of xuan su, described as so powerful as to be oppressive in volume 2, and the susceptibility of demons to spiritual energy, tianlang-jun is truly doing the absolute Most™ right now.)

... moving decidedly away from jokes now, this is one of the most pivotal lines for them, in my opinion. it comes at the conclusion of wu chen's reveal of the betrayal-that-wasn't, and how su xiyan chose death over bringing harm to tianlang-jun, only for it to find him regardless:

“It wasn’t that she didn’t care about you, but that she was without alternative. Yet the world is pitiless, and so you passed each other by…” Tianlang-Jun’s lips seemed to tremble slightly. A long moment passed. Then he said, “Is that so?” Right after those three words, he asked again, “Truly?” “This one swears upon his life that his words contain not a single falsehood,” said Master Wu Chen. Tianlang-Jun turned his head to look at Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan. As if seeking confirmation, he asked, “Truly?” He didn’t even care whether someone was in the know; he was just asking anyone he could. Unable to say anything, Yue Qingyuan silently lowered his head. It was unclear what he thought.

it is clear that the tragedy of su xiyan and tianlang-jun was one that yue qingyuan felt keenly, not only for his response here, clearly processing some significant emotion, but also for the way that he used the same words to describe his relationship with shen jiu just a short time later:

“I really…didn’t mean to not return,” said Yue Qingyuan. “Only, it really is true that the world is pitiless, and so the two of us passed each other by…”

pardon me while a cry a new freshwater body into existence.

there is truly so much more that can be said about what makes these two a great fit for each other, especially in a canon-adjacent/post-canon scenario, but i'll save that for another day. for now, i will let these excerpts speak for themselves.

#svsss #meta #my meta #i love them your honor #like truly they are SO complementary AUGH #tianyue #tianlang jun #yue qingyuan #tlj #yqy

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red-phantom-0 · 1 month ago

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The children are dead

pt 2 of Damien x Ghoul.sib reader

──► as the two siblings grow ever so closer bonded by the cold love of their 'adopted' family and the monstrosity of their past , life throws them another unyielding cruelty that breaks them both entirely.

Tw : major character death , child neglect , revenge

Edit ty for 42 likes !!

part 1 , part 3

I'm done dreaming.

ACT I

It was late December , the air around the manor was grim and chilly , nothing but haunting and a grim reminder that life was harsh and would never be easy. Damien clenches his fingers within his gloves as he attempts to soak up what little warmth he had.

Bruce and his other siblings stood before him in the patio , discussing events pertaining to last night's stake out. Damien tunes out their annoying , scratchy voices, but his eyes trained to every other possible corner of the room searching for them.

The grandfather ticks by, and the conversation turns dull , he had to hold himself exactly ten times from clawing Dick's eyes out whenever he'd call him a demon spwan or ask him who he's planning to kill. He's at his bloody wits until he see y/n's figure limping in.

Damien pushes back his chair and immediately launches himself towards them. They didn't have to convey words as his eyes already gave away how bloody worried he was with them. He can hear Bruce and the others calling him back, but he can't give a bloody damn about them right now.

He watches as y/n's bloody form lean against the doorframe as they slide to the ground like a limp leaf . Damien kneels with them and place his hand on their bleeding stomach - it was a big gash like a vicious creature took a bite out of them.

" Oh my God, we need to get them to a doctor-" he could hear Stephanie say from behind him, and Damien has never unsheathed his sword any faster . " Shut the fuck up and leave them alone " he growled.

The last time y/n went to a doctor , the medicine they used on them caused them to turn into a ghoul for three days straight - for three days his precious sibling was forced to be driven to insanity as their ghoulish form fought with what little human control they had left to suppress themselves from consuming humans.

His poor sibling wore ghoulish scratch marks on their arms and cheeks for months after their attempt at manhandking themseleves . He can see in the distance Tim opening his big trap to give his unwanted opinion, and Damien sneered at him . His sibling couldn't heal from their medication in his own world , hell - no medication could heal them , they had to hope to God they regenerated fast enough.

" Fuck off Drake " he sneered before crouching before y/n once again.

" What happened ?" He questioned them as he pressed him hand onto their wound to stop the wound from gushing even more blood. " Ran into another ghoul - no - he was an investigator from my world that kills ghouls like me - the undefeated ghoul investigator , Arima," they explained through coughing fits.

Damien stilled. He now knew the gravity of how extremely grim the situation became , the white reaper of his siblings' universe has come to end their demise . He remembered y/n talking about him , about how Arima possessed superhuman strength and his immense 'hatred for ghouls' lead the man to kill hundreds if not thousands of ghouls in his 18 years of occupation.

Y/n gave him a small smile . " I'll be okay," they reassured him . Damien just held them as he ignored the outside world.

Oh, how he wished he didn't believe them that night .

ACT II

January 6th , the night was quiet, and still , the moon casted its opulence across the streets of Gotham. A simply routine was instilled tonight , everyone had a simple stake out tonight .

It was the first night in years Damien and y/n hadn't been with each other on a mission for years - something he'd live to regret later . He found it suspicious, but Bruce insisted he needed to join him tonight to test him out as Robin and y/n had persistently encouraged him to go.

So here he was following Bruce from rooftop to rooftop as they stalked some of Joker's henchmen . For the last hour or so , Damien had checked in on y/n , and they reported they were doing okay and had just arrested some petty thrives for the night.

The hour was coming to an end , and so far, everyone but y/n reported in . Damien grew anxious , and y/n was always a timely person, so for them to be late was entirely unheard of.

Bruce reassured him that they were fine but that didn't stop the nagging feeling in his stomach and it's not like Bruce ever cared about your existence to begin with - only cared you did what you had to do and the thought of it pissed him off.

Damien was now finishing up wrapping up his grappling hook when y/n's frantic voice buzzed through his intercom . " Help me - he's - come quick " came their frantic voice through the static. Damien felt dread weighing like lead through his veins as he clutched onto his own intercom.

" Y/n are you okay ? Where are you ?" He asked frantically but was only left with static. Damien immediately began to leave when Bruce stopped him.

" Damien y/n isn't important right now we have more important things to worry about " Bruce or rather batman says and he held his son by the shoulder . Damien harshly yanked it off . " Leave me the fuck alone - I am going to them and you aren't stopping me " He yells as he grappled off the roof.

Batman calls after him, but Damien ignores him as he grapples his way to the other side of Gotham city . His heart beats heavy in his chest as he appraches your last known location only to see the building left in ruin.

Blood splatters were everywhere, and ruins were left anew . " Y/N !!!!" He shouted as he grappled around the area , eyes frantically looking for your figure . He begs , prays to whatever God out there that you're safe as he continued further as he observes more buildings left to ruins.

Ruble covered the area as far as the eye can see , not a living soul in sight. Damien kept calling your name out , tears practically falling down his face as he continued searching.

Minutes ticked by dreadfully until he finally spots you. Your bloody figure lays there in a bed of red spider lillies. Damien lets out an ear, piercing scream at the sight . With shaky legs and arms, he approaches your figure . Your figure layed still as a gentle breeze blow, causing the spider lillies to brush up against your form like a warm blanket .

Damien holds your form with shaky hands as he keeps repeating no's over and over. Your dead brown human eye stared at him , soulless and unmoving while your beautiful red eye had a jaggery, long sword piercing right through it . Your right arm and both your legs were missing , but still - in the moonlight , you looked calm.

Damien grew quiet as he layed his head on your chest , no longer can he selfishly listen to your heartbeat and relish in the familiar love you bestowed upon him. No longer would he be able to share a laugh with you , your pain , your burdens , your bitter coffees to your exhilarating training.

He would no longer have any of those as now you lay dead , robbed from his safe embrace because life was too cruel and unforgiving and had to take away the one good thing he had his life.

He no longer felt angry at the world. No, he felt awake and mad . Be prepared , Gotham , for tonight two children died and your long awaited recogning is comming with nothing but cold , bitter , unforgiving blood shed.

A crow in the distance let out a war cry as Damien kisses your forehead one last time before the spider lillies cover your form one last time , shadong your innocence from the raging hell Damien is about to bestow upon the world.. A gentle breeze blows, and Damien unsheathes his sword, ready to bring destruction and ruin to the world.

dreaming world

prepare to be

awaken.

Part 3, anyone ?

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frudoo · 6 months ago

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reader convincing slasher 141 to let her help when they kidnap and torture someone. she wants to be the victim that escaped or found a why to escape but in reality she's leading the other victim(s) into a trap to be caught. its all to see the look on their face and get praise from the 141 I love all your writing and hope you stay safe.

You are so sweet! I'm glad you're enjoying the series!! <3

Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE. Suggestive content. Mentions of bad people. MDNI.

“No. Absolutely not,” John crosses his arms, stern voice booming throughout the dining room.

“Why not?” You huff, setting down your fork to focus your full attention on the guys.

“Jus’ cuz y’live with it doesn’t mean we want y’involved,” Simon grunts, unimpressed.

“Ah dunno, hen,” Johnny frowns, crystal blue eyes boring into yours. “Wha’ if one of us mistakes ye fer one o’them?”

“Do you really think that would happen?” You challenge, cocking an eyebrow.

None of them seem sold on the idea, but you’re not giving up. There’s a need for vengeance hidden deep inside of you that’s just begging to burst out, and although you can’t stomach anything the boys actually do, just knowing that you’ll be helping them scrape the scum off the face of the earth is enough. There’s only one of your husbands that hasn’t voiced his opinion—the very one who can’t resist your charms.

“Kyle,” you puff your lips out into a pout, batting your eyelashes at him. “Please, baby, just let me help you all out?”

His eyes widen and he throws his hands up in surrender, shaking his head vigorously.

“Uh-uh, don’t put tha’ on me, dove.”

You groan dramatically, standing from your place at the table.

“I’m thinking about practicing abstinence.”

Long story short, they took a chance, and now you’re covered in blood and dirt, wearing nothing but an old nightgown and leading a group of horrified victims into the barn with the promise of hidden escape routes just inside. It surprises you how gullible each of them are, and you almost feel bad for leading them straight to their death. You have to remind yourself that these are rapists, abusers, and cons getting what they deserve. You have to remind yourself that your lovers would never do this to someone undeserving of only the worst fates.

“No, it’s okay! I-I’m just- hey, you’re fine,” you coo to the sobbing woman who refuses to let go of your arm.

Eventually you just have to shove her down and slam the barn doors shut, locking her along with every other piece of walking garbage inside. You pass John on his way towards the very building you’re leaving, yelping when he pulls you right into his burly arms.

“Clever girl. Shoulda never doubted you,” he murmurs, lifting his mask to press a hot, lingering kiss to your lips.

“Get it over with. I need to wash the fucking bitch’s germs off of my skin.”

John laughs, giving your ass a tight squeeze before replacing his mask over his face.

“Hope you were jokin’ about that whole ‘abstinence’ thing,” he hums, pointing his pinky finger up to a window on the second floor of the barnhouse, where your remaining three lovers have been watching the whole thing play out, hands down their trousers.

“They look hungry.”

#ask me!#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #slasher!141 #slasher!141 x reader

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theother-victoria · 3 months ago

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all hearts as one beneath the sun

SYNOPSIS: before kakavasha dissolves into the nihility, there is one hope he has to let go of. may you meet again in a kinder world and under a warm sun.

CHARACTERS: kakavasha, aventurine, dr ratio, aventurine's family, sunday

TAGS: angst, no comfort, established relationship, mentions of suicide, 4k+ wc

TAGLIST: @mitsvriii, @harque, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @moineauz

NOTES: sobbed to "had I not seen the sun" the entire time I was writing this I love making myself cry w my own work

special thanks to @akutasoda, @tragedy-of-commons, and @https-sourlimes for proofreading this! love u all <33

link to the playlist

Aventurine was mildly surprised when he received word that he would be handling the Penacony mission. Why him, of all the Ten Stonehearts? Surely someone more capable such as Opal would be trusted with a mission of this caliber.

He only realized why when he pried further into the details.

Penacony was a death trap. With so many powerful and important people gathered in one place, one wrong move on his part would spell his end.

He chuckles sardonically. Figures. They’re sending their most suicidal employee out for a suicide mission.

As if to rub the situation into his face, he finds out they’re pairing him with Dr. Ratio. What purpose is he supposed to serve, suicide prevention? Too little, too late, in his opinion.

The doctor doesn’t look too thrilled about the fact either. It makes Aventurine feel somewhat better about this whole situation.

“You’d best get your affairs settled before we leave, gambler. The odds that you make it back alive from this mission aren’t as high as you’d hope they’d be.”

“Ooh, well I do like the sound of that.”

A glare sent his way makes Aventurine roll his eyes, but he shuts up anyway. Plans are made and discussed for what role each of them will be playing before it’s time to leave.

“Well then, I look forward to working with you in Penacony, Doctor.”

“Just don’t act like a complete idiot and we’ll be fine.”

The two men head their separate ways. Ratio’s advice to settle his affairs lingers in his mind, though. That means there’s a will he has to sign, assets he has to distribute, funeral arrangements to be made, and more. Of course, most, if not all of it, will be going toward you. You’d be set for the rest of your life, never having to work a day again if you so chose.

He heaves a sigh. Ah, it’s all so tedious. It was all so much easier before you came along. He had no will to worry about. He’d toss caution to the wind every mission and wind up sorely disappointed when he returned, still alive. If he did end up dying, his assets would end up being pawned off and most likely make their way back to the IPC somehow. So what even was the point then?

With all that being said, he didn’t mind putting in all that extra work for your peace of mind and so you’d continue to benefit, even after his death.

Still, the stakes this time around are higher, and he has you to consider now before placing his bets. One wrong move and you’d be left without someone to welcome home. And then there’s the consideration of whether he’d be willing to die when the moment came. Sure, he’d attempted several times before but they’d all failed. Would he be able to take the plunge this time, should the opportunity present itself?

“Hey, Doc?”

Ratio is about to leave, but the uncharacteristic hint of hesitation in his voice makes him stop and look over his shoulder.

“... How can you tell if you’ve lived a life worth living?”

Ratio stares at the blonde in silence in disbelief over what he’s hearing. Aventurine chuckles, trying to dispel the awkwardness that’s settled in the air.

“No answer? Never mind-”

“That answer will vary from person to person. However, if you were to ask me personally…”

The doctor’s ruby eyes flit over Aventurine’s frame, narrowing in contemplation- and perhaps a hint of resignation.

“Ask yourself this question: can you die today without any regrets?”

“Can I die today without any regrets?” Doctor, what were you thinking when you posed that rhetorical question on me? Obviously the answer would be no!

Expensive leather shoes click against stone as Aventurine hurriedly makes his way through the Dreamscape. The weight of having mere hours left to live looms above his head like an anvil, leaving him scrambling to figure out how to cheat death- not for the hope of living to see another day, but so he can carry out his mission.

When confronted with death, even a suicidal man will cling to the urge to live for one reason or another.

He’s hardly paying attention to where he’s going, muttering out half-hearted apologies to those he bumps into as he stumbles through the Dreamscape before he ends up in a secluded area. The kaleidoscopic iridescence in the corners of his vision makes him stumble and he audibly groans when a searing pain flashes through his temples, the Harmony’s brand on his mind assailing him again.

Dammit… am I really at the end of the line now? And before I could do anything meaningful either…

He hears the sound of a… child humming some distance away? That’s strange, there’s no one else here.

“Mister, are you lost too?”

That voice.

He turns around slowly, as if that would change anything. Aventurine’s eyes dart across the boy standing before him, with rags for clothes and scraped knees. The child in front of him is everything he is not- or rather, what he was, but is no longer. Optimistic, with bright shining eyes. Hope still exists for him.

Those eyes. Oh, it’s himself.

Aventurine thinks he’s about to be sick.

“Woah, you have such pretty eyes! Can I call you Mr. Pretty Eyes?”

Aventurine stiffly nods.

“Sure. Call me whatever you want, kid. What’s your name?”

“It’s Kakavasha. Nice to meet you!”

And that’s the final nail in the coffin confirming his suspicions.

Kakavasha looks around nervously.

“I was searching for my family, but I got lost. This place is so much bigger than home… Mister, do you think you could help me find them?”

Aventurine shakily extends a trembling hand out.

“Of course. Lead the way. How about you hold onto my hand so you don’t get lost anymore?

Kakavasha latches onto it and begins wandering around, calling out for his parents and big sister. Every unanswered call feels like a punch to the gut but he has a faint flickering of hope that he’ll be able to see them.

“You really love your family, kid,” remarks Aventurine in an attempt to keep some conversation going.

“Of course! I do!”

Kakavasha pauses in his steps and thinks for a bit, eyes wandering skyward and free hand resting on his chin.

“… Do you have anyone you love, Mr. Pretty Eyes?”

“Yes, I do. Their name is (Name).”

The boy’s eyes light up, sparkling in curiosity.

“Woah, really? What’re they like?”

A light chuckle escapes Aventurine’s lips as he crouches down to Kakavasha’s eye level and ruffles his hair.

“They’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

“Wow, they must be a really amazing person for you to say that…”

“They are. They're incredible.”

I don’t deserve them.

He chuckles and stands back up again, hand reaching for Kakavasha’s. The little boy continues to lead the way, until he suddenly stops and turns.

“Would you like to meet my family? They’ve been gone for so long I think they went back home. You can introduce (Name) to them as well!”

Panic wells up inside him. Seeing his family? In this state? After all he’s done? No, he can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. Not under these circumstances!

“Kid, I don’t think-”

“It’s ok if (Name) shows up late. They’re nice people and they’ll understand.”

“No, I-”

“Come on, let’s go! They’re already waiting for us!”

Aventurine feels himself being forcefully pulled under and he instinctively closes his eyes. A blast of hot, sandy air hits him, making him shield himself. When it settles down, he opens his eyes to a familiar sight. Sand stretches as far as the eye can see. There’s minimal vegetation and he can feel the sun beating down on his back already.

Sigonia-IV. He’s returned home.

Kakavasha eagerly tugs on his sleeve.

“This is my home! I know it’s not much, but everyone I know and love is here. I think you’ll like it too.”

Still holding onto Aventurine’s hand, Kakvasha begins running toward the horizon. Aventurine, meanwhile, feels numb all over.

There’s no way this is happening. Is this some sort of cruel prank? What did that chicken-wing boy do this time? But if this is just a cruel prank…

He looks around at the yellow sand stretching as far as the eye can see and the mountains in the distance.

… Then it’s far too realistic. How is this happening? If I filter out the memories of the massacre, then everything is the same as I remembered it.

“We’re almost there!” calls out Kakavasha. “Just a little longer now!”

Three familiar figures stand in front of a tent some distance away and Aventurine feels his heart seize up in his chest. He’s long forgotten their faces, but he instinctively recognizes them.

Mom. Dad. Big Sis.

Kakavasha lets go of his hand and sprints toward his family. He leaps into the arms of his big sister, who spins him around giddily while his mother plants kisses over his face and his father holds his tiny hands.

As he approaches, he realizes they have no faces. Where there are supposed to be eyes, a nose, and a mouth, there is nothing. A blank canvas with dents and ridges where the features are supposed to be greets him and he feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise up in warning.

The only exception to this is his sister, with her grinning mouth and her long blonde hair billowing in the wind- the only feature he remembers clearly about her. She takes notice of him and tilts her head curiously to the side.

“Kakavasha, did you br▇ng a f▇▇▇d of ▇urs?”

Her voice comes out scratchy and distorted with only a few syllables recognizable. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when he realizes why.

He can’t remember her voice anymore. Or the voices of his parents, for that matter. He’s forgotten what they look like, and now what they sound like. What’s been forgotten can’t be restored.

“Yeah!” exclaims Kakavasha nestled safely into his sister’s arms now. “Everybody, meet Mr. Pretty Eyes!”

They greet him with friendly waves and scratchy sounds that he thinks are supposed to be words of greeting. He almost chokes on the guilt and regret building up in his throat

“▇▇ look just like ▇▇ Kakavasha over here! ▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ ▇▇ his long-lost b▇▇▇▇r or something?”

Aventurine forces out a laugh as the others join in.

If only they knew…

The sun is going down now, and the solar winds that blanket the planet grow harsher. They quickly usher him into the tent, telling him to make himself at home and inviting him to stay for dinner. There’s no way out as far as he can tell, so he obliges.

It’s smaller than he remembers, he thinks as he ducks to avoid hitting his head. There’s a rudimentary kitchen setup in the back that Kakavasha’s mother is tending to as she begins preparing dinner. Kakavasha hops into his sister’s lap and shakes the sand out of his hair and gets it everywhere, to which she lightly scolds him with a tug on his cheek.

He takes a seat on the fraying rug in the center and rubs a brightly-colored teal tassel between his fingers. The sand is already starting to seep into his clothes. He feels grains of it in his shoes and it pools onto his pristine white dress pants. Grains of it are nestled deep into the fur collar of his coat from the harsh solar winds outside that even vigorous shaking won’t dislodge.

Kakavasha’s sister smiles at him. It’s a bit unnerving, just seeing a smiling mouth with no other features.

“So, Mr. ▇▇▇ Eyes, w▇at 's your ▇▇▇ ? At least, I’m a▇▇▇ ming Mr. ▇▇▇ Eyes isn’t yo▇▇ r▇l name.”

“It’s Kaka-”

He swallows hard and kicks himself. He’s not Kakavasha. Not anymore.

“It’s… Aventurine.”

The very act of saying that name makes him feel like he’s betraying his family, stabbing them in the back.

“A▇▇▇▇▇ , huh? What an in▇▇▇ing and pretty name!” remarks his sister. He feels the air rush out his lungs and almost coughs up a sardonic laugh from the sheer irony of it all. First his family, then his language, then his body, and now even his name? Is there anything left that he can truly call his from his culture?

Thunder distantly rumbles overhead. Kakavasha and his sister peek their heads out curiously of the tent. She gasps excitedly and points to the darkening clouds overhead.

“Hear that? ▇▇ sign ▇▇ your birthday is ▇▇▇ ▇!” she exclaims as she holds Kakavasha’s hands in hers.“▇▇▇ ▇▇ excited?”

… His birthday?

Thunder rumbles overhead again and he hears the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the tent.

His birthday. The Kakava Festival.

His heart sinks into his stomach as his family chatters around him. They talk about birthday celebrations and what they’ll do that day, but it’s a muffled mess in his ears. Is it really almost his birthday already? Sigonia-IV followed many beliefs that were independent from the rest of the universe, namely the Aeon belief system, and that also extended to the calendar system. Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sure what day his birthday was in the Interastral Standard calendar system. He usually just flipped a coin and that was if he even bothered to celebrate, which he hadn’t done in many years.

Aventurine does some quick estimating and realizes that yes, it’s almost his birthday. But how would he celebrate his birthday in this world, where all was good and he still remembered their faces and voices?

Aventurine closes his eyes and thinks. His mother would be overjoyed to know that her beloved son finally has a lover now. She’d make him clean the tent from top to bottom in preparation for your arrival, even though the sand would find its way back inside again within a matter of a few hours. His parents would cook up a feast for your arrival while his sister would pester him to tell more stories about you- as if there were any left that he hadn’t. When the time would come and you’d nervously step through the tent flap with one hand holding his tightly and another clutching some gifts, his mother would rush forward and greet you with a kiss to the cheek, having already accepted you as family. His sister would steal you away from him to dote on you, much to his half-hearted chagrin. His father would tell corny jokes that you’d cringe at, and his mother would teach you recipes that had been passed down for generations, her warm, weathered hands resting atop yours and lovingly guiding your movements in the kitchen.

The five of you, safe, warm, and alive under the sun.

Hours after the rest of his family had gone to sleep, you’d lie side by side outside, watching the stars drift on by. Sigonia-IV is nothing like Pier Point. Free from light and industrial pollution, you’d have a stunning view of the cosmos every night. Twinkling stars shine overhead, so close you could practically pluck them out of the sky. Multicolored clouds of gas and stardust bathe the sky in their shifting hues as he tells you stories that have been passed down from generation to generation with the occasional shooting star passing by. You’d stay like that for hours on end, content to just listen and watch, until you were lulled to sleep by his voice.

It would be cold, as all desert climates are at night, but it was nothing he couldn’t bear with your warmth nestled into his side.

In the spring, or around now, he’d take you to celebrate the Kakava festival under the stars with a roaring bonfire. The festival itself would be a solemn and silent celebration with people murmuring prayers to the Mother Goddess and tossing sacrificial vessels into the fires, but the celebration of his birthday afterward would be loud and joyful. Bonfire sparks would rise up into the sky, carried by the hot solar winds and the rich sounds of his people’s songs. His mother would drape you in turquoise jewelry and gift you traditional clothes that she would’ve spent hours beforehand making by hand, every stitch a labor of love. He’d teach you to dance to the cheers of his family and the familiar tunes he’d hum under his breath. His movements would be fluid and graceful as he spins and twirls you around, while you stumble and flail along. He’d enjoy every second of it- even if you step on his feet the whole time.

He would be kinder in this world, he thinks. He’d still be Kakavasha. Aventurine would be an unknown man to him. He’d wear his heart on his sleeve and his eyes would still have life to them. He’d never have to hide his left hand.

And you’d be happier too. You wouldn’t have to sift through the layers to find the true self underneath the act he puts up. He wouldn’t be so hot and cold- practically love-bombing you one moment and then disappearing without a word for weeks the next. He wouldn’t be a dirty gambler, a two-faced businessman, a disinterested womanizer, cheating scum, an IPC mutt, a corporate bootlicker, a worthless Sigonian slut or who knows what else you’ve heard about him–

In this world, there are no Katicans. The Avigins and his family are still intact. His neck is unmarred and he speaks the Avigin dialect fluently, instead of the halting and choppy cadence that's even worse than that of a child’s. Syrupy, honeyed words spill from his mouth as he teaches you common words and phrases in his mother tongue. Have you eaten yet? How did you sleep? How was your day? I missed you. Mother. Sister. Father. Lover. Goddess. I made you something. I saw this today and thought of you. Be safe. Sweet dreams. Goodnight. I love you. He chuckles when you parrot them back to him haltingly, with your accent mixed in. The notebook you keep with various phrases, their meanings, and their phonetics grows every day. The most worn out page was the one crammed full of declarations of love that sound more akin to poetry as your mastery over the dialect grows. The ink is smeared from how often you’ve run your fingers over them, murmuring them under your breath until you’d committed them to memory. In your arms is the safest I’ll ever be. I’m lucky to call you my lover. I sleep better when I’m with you. I secretly name stars and constellations after you. I’ll kiss the weariness away from your face every night. I pray to Mama Fenge every night for your safety. I imagine her hands and embrace to be as warm as yours, and it reassures me somehow. I’ll miss your warm hands when that day finally comes. Goodnight, I love you.

We’ll be together even in Kakava’s next aurora.

Aventurine jolts forward with a start. His eyes search around frantically, instinctively searching for his family and you, only to be greeted with a familiar sight that isn’t his home. Bright flashing lights, the sound of cars honking and speeding by, muffled pop music playing in the distance, and the sugary scent of SoulGlad greet his senses instead of arid hot wind that howls in his ears and endless seas of sand. You and his family are nowhere to be seen either.

Oh. Right.

The Dreamscape.

His clothes stick to his skin drenched in a cold sweat and his glasses are resting lopsidedly on his face. His whole body is shivering uncontrollably, as if he’s been plunged into ice-cold water without warning. The world is going white before his eyes and all he can hear is the loud thump of his pulse in his ears that suddenly drops. He thinks he’s about to pass out again. This is the end, he thinks. Aventurine leans against the side of a wall again, taking deep, heaving breaths to steady himself and quell the nausea swirling around in his stomach.

When it subsides and he doesn’t feel like he’s on the verge of death (sadly), he sits back up and forces out a laugh in place of a sob. First forcing a religious consecration onto him, then dangling his family in front of his face? How much crueler could the head of the Oak Family get?

His heart sinks and an overwhelmingly bitter feeling engulfs him. It was just a dream all along. A dream within a dream, really. Was he really that desperate for something familiar again?

(And just like that, the mask known as Aventurine is back in place.)

(But he couldn’t even say goodbye or apologize to his family one last time, even if it wasn’t them.)

It was a pleasant dream, he’ll admit. How nice it would be to live in that world forever. But he knew it was a dream because it could never happen, as much as it pained him.

Aventurine hears the voice of Kakavasha drifting along from further up ahead and knows he’s nearing the final leg of his plan. With what little time he has left, he takes pictures with the boy for posterity and buys the child all the treats his eyes rest on for more than a second. Aventurine delights in the way his eyes light up at the first taste before he eagerly digs in for more.

It’s cathartic, in a way.

Before stepping on stage, he looks up at the sky. It’s perpetually nighttime in Clock Studios Theme Park, but he knows the sun is shining elsewhere in the Dreamscape. Is the sun shining where you are back at home? He thinks it’s morning for you. You must still be asleep with the cat cakes curled into your sides, blissfully unaware of the news you’ll wake up to.

Get onstage. Fear not. Never look back.

One last thing to do.

He sends a final text to you.

Aventurine: I love you.

It stays on delivered when he puts his phone away. It’ll be the first thing you see when you wake up, and that’s more than enough for him.

It’s time for the curtain call.

The feeling of Kakavasha’s tiny body in his arms won’t be enough to chase away the grief. Nothing ever will be. But this’ll be the closest he can get.

Aventurine hugs the boy close, squeezing as hard as he can without hurting him. He feels how he’s nothing more than skin and bone beneath the oversized rags. No child should have to be this thin, he thinks, and he’s even more glad he treated Kakavasha to his heart’s content earlier.

This is the end. He gives Kakavasha one last squeeze to imprint this memory into his mind and gets up, waving goodbye over his shoulder all the while.

He never looks back.

In a shower of light, Kakavasha dissolves into the Nihility, and with him, Aventurine’s hopes for the ideal future- the one that you deserved. The Horizon of Existence is finally devoid of all color save for himself and the dark sun beckoning him forward toward the event horizon.

He takes a step forward, and then another. The sound of his footsteps against the surface and liquid splashing echo loudly in the empty space.

The Nihility is beginning to slowly engulf him. He feels it encroaching at the edges of his mind, eating away at his thoughts one by one until nothing remains. A hollow, empty feeling settles into his heart that weighs him down. Aventurine looks down at his hands and realizes the color is beginning to seep from his vision until he, too, would become one with the Nihility. The point of no return beckons to him like a moth to a flame. Nothingness, emptiness, worthlessness. There’s nothing left for him to do.

“Can you die today without any regrets?”

Aventurine finally has an answer to that question. The past is gone and he’s walking toward no future.

Yes. I finally can.

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