#he does in fact live in a van

[mr-mitosis]

[tero-ga]

Aaaaanother TGAA SwapAU stuff and it is my wonderful boy Albert as the prosecutor!!

I've changed some of the designs in this one like the jacket color to white to make a resemblance of a lab coat and reflecting of Kazuma white school uniform, as well trying to bring more Frankenstein's Monster vibe too hehe (aaand make him look more miserable too). He is also have a locket that have a painting of him and his two brothers, it was given by Andrew during his wedding!

I also made bunch of character that related to Swap!Albert's life from 10 years ago, like Andrew(Klint's roleswap) and his other brother Michael, university Barok and Albert, etc. more info about the are there down below 👇👇

First of I wanted to say I'm sorry I can't do full render of everyone here, do that with all of them would be death sentence for me so I couldn't do it 😭😭 Anyway without further ado, I'm going right into it! Start from left to right!

This first one Ryunosuke father replacing as Genshin Asogi. At first while brainstorming I was thinking of maybe do three switch around with Genshin, Jigoku, and Yujin but the it somehow felt weird for me. Then the thought of maybe involving Auchi in this too (like, imagine him being swap with Jigoku wouldn't that be funny and terrifying thought), but discarded that idea out because of Menimemo would have no one to swap with (i have to i'm sorry). Sooo I ended just design him from scratch, he is quite easy to figure out since Genshin doesn't really have much going on with him, but since we don't have any idea of original Ryunosuke's parents at all I have to take idea from something else, and that is his daruma doll for his eyes (he is half blind!! :D) and Phoenix DD/SOJ design (droopy hair and light vest) and everything else is from Genshin. His name is Ryuuki Naruhodo since Ryunosuke is another name for Ryuichi so I want to keep the train going!!

Andrew the screwdriver, oh I missed him- Anyway, I redesign his outfit because tbh his previous outfit is ridiculous 😭 it's funny and fun but I do want to take him seriously now. I'm tried to keep the A shape still but it's less subtle now, I think it turned out okay!! (Oh yeah, his cane is supposed to be a hidden sword but i forgot to put that in the drawing 😭). I was supposed to make his bowtie red like the hair tie but then I realized it will getting rid of the purpose of the hair tie (it referencing the blood on the tip of the screwdriver) so I ended up making it color silver.

The Lady Baskerville, I gave her similar design to Sunny(Herlock!Swap) with the bowtie, color palette to his mascot, and hair on her. I'm not really quite fond with her design, maybe I'll do redesign her again if I got a idea pop up like crazy but in the meantime this is her design.

Guess who is this?? Another one of Albert's tool is here finally!! Michael the crosshead screwdriver! Since we never see Michael anywhere and only mentioned once in the game he is, I'm just draw simple design for him (I wished I could put M shape in the design but I have no idea WHERE to put it 😭 so I tried used the bowtie for it). I also thought it would be nice to make him a defense attorney so I made the design for the badge too. Since he is sadly not going to be mentioned a lot in this AU since I'm trying to make the storyline same as the original, so I made a backstory of what happened in the fun fact tags. There was supposed to be more tool to be added but my god that would be taxing to design, so I have to make only Andrew and Michael as his only siblings.

The doggie Balmung replacement, Bolt, He is a Irish Setter! Beforehand he was supposed to be Borzoi but then research the background of the breed I don't how difficult it is to actually get one in that era so I have to changed breed :((

Albert and Barok in university days!! I just keep same as before like previous design!! There's a tiny change like the hair and the neckties.

There is going to be more content of them soon because I have a lot of ideas for them sooo stay tuned ;)

Here's the concept designs!!

[veerbles]

very curious about public opinion

honestly we all know post ck kaz is putting his whole back into making the council's lives miserable until they stop slavery. but what about the 1/13 of them that is uhhhh maybe like his friend or something (don't ask him to admit this out loud. he won't)

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP: Immunity system

Danny gets confused for Tim Drake when he stop for gas in Gotham on his way to visit Dan. His clone had set up shop- a literary comic book shop- in Metropolis.

Danny was going for the weekend to help him run the red dot sale and also spend time with his Clone turned older brother.

Dan after being released from his prison and getting a Core Cleanse in the FarFrozen ectoplasm iced pools, had mellowed out greatly.

It turns out Dan had gone mad after suffering a dip in contaminated ectoplasm. He called it "Pit Madness" and Clockwork assured him it was a real medical condition

Much like getting bitten by a rabies-infected animal, Dan's condition was not his fault despite turning him violent.

After the Big Reveal with his parents - who took the news surprisingly well- Team Phantom introduced Elle and Dan to them.

The two clones had been quickly made official Fentons and now Danny had an older brother and a young sister.

Elle lived at home with Danny and his parents, but Jazz and Dan moved out after high school graduation. Danny was thinking of moving in with Dan to go to college.

He wasn't sure, but he still had a whole year to decide.

Danny found a gas station within his GPS map and stopped at the closest one. There weren't a lot of people around, so he assumed that was a slow day.

He was not aware the locals avoided the area due to the danger of feuding gangs. He was also unaware that while pumping the gas, a Scarecrow goon was watching him.

That goon knew his boss had been getting a bit bored with his experiments, and he knew it wouldn't be long before his boss turned on his employees to relieve his boredom.

He was just starting to sweat, thinking he would be the new genuine pig until Tim Drake himself rolled out of a beat up car in the bad part of town.

He practically gift-wrapped himself for Scarecrow! The goon grins, creeping up behind the distracted young man.

One of the employees' inside the gas station had clocked Tim Drake too and had been staring at him - how could he not when Tim was a Bi icon?- and sees the moment the goon covers the boy's mouth with a clotch and yank him into a van that speeds away.

For a moment, the employee only gawked after the speeding vehicle, too shook to do anything as it disappears around a corner.

He scrambles for his phone to call 911. He prays that his slow reaction does not cost Drake's life.

(His call's transcript pings on Oracle's program designed to pick up the civilian names of the Bats if ever used in the emergency hotlines)

Sadly it is hours before the Bats have even an idea of where Tim (actually Danny) was taken to.

Danny wakes up in a warehouse, strapped to a table. He only had a brief moment of thinking his worst fear was coming true ,his parents, were going to rip him apart molecular by molecular, despite it being two years since they learn.

Thankfully a man dressed in a ridiculous Halloween costume steps into the light and he knows it's not his parents.

"Lovely expression Mr. Drake. Let's see how lovely that fear truly is," the man says in a raspy voice, holding up a needle. He stabs Danny with it and the boy blanches as the hot liquid enters his blood stream.

A minute goes by.

Two.

Three.

"Ugh was that supposed to do something?" He questioned, moving around his restraints to check his chances of escape without outing himself as Phantom.

The camera pointing at him limits his options.

The man dressed as Scarecrow lets out a gleeful cackle. He doesn't answer Danny, instead turning to the door- from where Danny can lift his head, it looks like he's in a basement of some kind- and shouts, "Bring me experiment six two six!"

A bulky man comes in carrying a tray of tubes. Danny watches as Scarecrow carefully selects a tube and pours it into another needle. "Lets see how you handle this"

The answer is Danny handles it very well. In fact he takes all seven tubes without a single reaction. Honestly it's the needle that's a real bother.

Scarecrow is both impressed and slightly insulted by the end of it. "How did a simpleton chloroform work on you but not my brilliant science!?"

Danny squints at him. "I would call this many things but never science, let alone brilliant, you fruitloop."

He gets knocked out again for his cheek with a new chloroform rag.

He wakes to the same made leaning over him again, but this time, there is also a clown in purple. Danny can only stare as the clown cackles.

"I think you're losing your special touch if Tim Drake is immune to your Fear Gas." The clown says, and Danny wonders if a costume convention exists in town.

Danny is happy to see that besides being knocked out and tied him down they haven't really done anything to him. "Who are you supposed to be?"

The clown face spams before a wide, mad grin breaks across his face. If Danny were to look of the definition of madness in a dictionary he knows this guy would be the example for it.

"I'm just a simple chum who wants to see the world laugh," The clown tells him, holding a squirt flower in Danny's face. "Let's see that smile!"

Danny squeaks as the liquid splashes in his face, some going up his nose. He coughs while the two men stare intensely at him.

After a moment Danny gets himself under control. "Ugh what was that? Is smell nasty"

The clown face freezes, rage bleeding into his eyes as the scarecrow one scoffs "seem you are also losing your touch, chum"

"No no no. Our little friend just needs a higher dosage! I'll have him laughing in no time!"

He doesn't. After a gas tank full of that nasty-smelling stuff is forced onto his face, and five different needles stabbed into his arm the clown is forced to admit Danny is immune.

They still call him "Mr. Drake" even though Danny tells them between needles that's not his name.

After hours of attempting to get a reaction out of him- both by clown and scarecrow- , Danny is knocked out again by the little rag.

When he comes two three people stand over him. The two from before, though clown now looks murderous and scarecrow politely interested, and a women in green with leaves splat across her outfit.

So Danny got kidnapped by a Scarecrow, a clown, and a nymph? Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke.

The gas mask is forced back onto his face and another Danny struggles he can do nothing as he is forced to breath in a new gas.

The woman watches his reaction with a keen eye before nodding "He should be pretty far gone now"

Scarecrow shakes his head. "There isn't a single reaction. He isn't affected by your pheromones."

The woman scoffs, leaning over Danny and fluttering her eyelashes "You're going to kill dear old dad for me"

Danny glares at her. "Like hell, I will."

His voice is muffled by the mask but they hear him and the woman actually looks shocked "He might need a higher dosage "

"By all means, give it a try. Neither Joker or I saw a difference in Mr.Drake even after adjusting his intake."

"How is that possible?"

"Maybe because you all suck!"

The clown slams his hands on the table. "I am one of the best chemists in the world, brat!"

"And the ugliest!"

Danny doesn't see the knife until it's pressed repeatedly into his left leg. He screams around his mask as the Clown spits and swears at him.

The other two only watch, neither seemingly bothered by the man stabbing a teenager.

Then the knife is plunged into his stomach, and he screams as the world almost whites out in agony.

Danny, blinks the white hot pain, and is just barely thinking of going ghost when the door bursts open and a group of people wearing more costumes pour in.

A man dressed as a Bat flings the clown away with an outraged cry. Danny can't see where the clown lands, but he hears fighting all around him.

A boy in a hood and mask appears in his line of sight. There is a worried frown on his face as he quickly picks at the locks keeping Danny down "Do not worry, Drake, we are here."

Danny finally gives in to the pain, running to blissful darkness as a man in a red helmet lifts him off the bed and makes a run for the door.

The kid provided cover for them.

[munsonkitten]

It starts small.

Steve buys Eddie a handful of cassettes after the whole Upside Down business. Drops them unceremoniously in Eddie’s lap while Eddie’s laid up in the hospital. Eddie pulls them all out of the plastic bag and lays them out in his lap while Steve stands a few feet away, arms crossed protectively over his torn up middle.

“I got things on your vest,” Steve says as Eddie takes in the titles. “I figured everything in your room’s probably gone now, but I still have your vest, and I’ll — I’ll give it back. When you get out of here. It’s safe in my room. But, just — yeah, the tapes are things you have on it.”

Dio’s The Last in Line, Motorhead’s Ace of Spades, Metallica’s Ride the Lightning, Judas Priest’s Screaming for Vengeance, and WASP’s self-titled album.

“I almost bought you more, but I wasn’t sure what else, and I don’t know much about your music, so I just got those. I was going to bring you my Walkman, but I couldn’t find it,” Steve says. “I think one of the kids borrowed it and never gave it back, actually.”

Eddie still hasn’t said anything yet. He’s still taking in the gift in his lap, can’t even comprehend that Steve wanted to give him more.

“Uh,” Eddie says, trying to get his brain working again. “Yeah. Man. Fuck, dude. Thanks. Seriously. Don’t worry about the Walkman, really. This is nice, Harrington.”

“Yeah, no problem, Munson,” Steve says softly. He goes and sits in one of the chairs in Eddie’s hospital room, and stays there until the kids come running from Max’s overcrowded room to ask for a ride home.

Eddie lays there with his tapes spread out over his lap, and he finds himself smiling down at them. He doesn’t even have anything to listen to them on, but he thinks it might be the most thoughtful gift he’s ever gotten from anyone other than Wayne.

It’s nice, he thinks, that he might be becoming friends with Steve Harrington. It’s nice, he thinks, that even when they’re no longer fighting for their lives, Steve might want to stick around.

He didn’t expect that.

Eddie’s in the hospital for two weeks, and Steve stops by almost every day. He sits for a while, sometimes they talk, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes Eddie wakes up and sees Steve sleeping in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He doesn’t wake him, just smiles to himself because Steve’s tired, but he doesn’t want Eddie to be alone.

It’s been a while since Eddie’s had a friend the same age as him. Jeff and Grant are both two years younger than him, Gareth is four years, and Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair are all five or six years younger. He has friends, but Steve feels different, just a few months younger but already graduated. In a way, it makes Eddie feel younger, still being in high school and all.

He doesn’t really think that should matter, but it kind of does. All his younger friends look up to him, he’s always the one making plans and making sure everyone sticks to them, he’s the one in charge of it all — the older one. But when Steve’s around — Steve, with his real job, and high school diploma, and his nice car, and the brood of children he chases after, Steve, who’s an adult in all the ways Eddie himself feels like he’s not — Eddie feels like he can sit back and let someone else do all of that.

When Steve’s around, it feels like he has someone to care for him and look out for him the way he’s done for the others.

It starts to ease everything he’s carried for so long.

* * *

The next time Steve buys something for Eddie, it’s even smaller.

In fact, it’s so small that Eddie doesn’t even notice it at first because Steve was actually really sneaky about it. Eddie would almost find it cute, if he were allowed to think about Steve that way. He’s not, to be clear. It goes against his Munson Doctrine to have crushes on the jocks, rich kids, and straight boys, of which Steve is all three, but if he wasn’t, then yeah, Eddie would find it cute that Steve is sneaking him tiny gifts when he isn’t looking.

There’s a keychain on his van keys that he certainly didn’t get for himself. He notices it one day during a get together at Harrington’s house. Eddie just got out of the hospital a few days ago, and everyone insisted on throwing a party. Now kids are running around Steve’s backyard, yelling and hollering and trying not to fall in the freezing cold pool. It’s still too early in the spring to swim.

Even Max, barely out of the hospital herself, is being wheeled around in her wheelchair by nothing more than El’s mind powers.

It’s kind of fucking insane, to be honest.

But Eddie needs to go out to his car to get his pain meds because he’s really starting to feel the length of the day in his aching joints and healing wounds, so he grabs his keys off Steve’s counter where he left them, and that’s when he sees it.

A tiny metal bat dangling from his keys.

He knows it was Steve because Steve was the only one in the house when he got here and set his stuff down in the kitchen, and no one else has gone inside since Eddie found his way to the backyard, so of course it was Steve.

Eddie doesn’t mention it, just smiles to himself and runs his fingers over the pointed wings.

He sees Steve looking at him when he comes back into the kitchen. Eddie raises his hand and shakes his pill bottle at him, and without another word, Steve goes to the cupboard to get a glass that he fills with water.

Eddie sets his keys back down on the kitchen counter as Steve slides the glass of water over to him. Steve nods at the keys, and Eddie grins at him.

“Thank you,” Eddie says.

“I have a matching one,” Steve says, turning back toward the sink to look out the window above it. “Just, you know, because…”

He gestures at his torso, and then over at Eddie, and Eddie nods. He gets it.

It makes him feel a little bit closer to Steve. Even if Eddie isn’t allowed to crush on him, he’s happy to have someone who gets him. Who understands what he went through, and feels similar pain.

It’s like Steve’s saying You’re with me now, we’re connected, and you’re not getting rid of me.

Read on AO3

[anemicjellyfish]

Blitzø's struggle with the Asmodean Crystal

On the lighter side, it could have just been a joke. This could also have taken place before Apology Tour, since Blitzø has no issue using the Crystal to transport both himself and the IMP van through portals.

After one full season, and part way through the second, we have been led to believe that Blitzø is actually good in bed. A party-house packed with Succubi managed to get emotionally attached, so I'm having a hard time believing that Blitzø's game is in any way lacking, contrary to Verosika's song at Ozzie's.

My Theory?

I've had it floating in my head since Full Moon that Blitzø could have performance issues after Stolas cut things off. (Do I have a half-baked fanfic on what's basically erectile disfunction hurt/comfort, post-Apology Tour? Yeah, but like that's not relevant.)

Blitzø is afraid of being in love. He has a lot of emotional baggage and trauma when it comes to love. And the Crystal is picking up on the fact that Blitzø is struggling internally with balancing sexual desire and emotional needs.

It's obvious to us early on that Blitzø has feelings for Stolas. But feelings make things complicated for Blitzø. Anytime anyone gets close enough to have feelings for him, Blitzø pushes them away and bails.

He's been able to live in denial for some time now, but Stolas' confession in Full Moon made it impossible to continue pretending it was just about sex.

Blitzø had been using sex as work in his transactional relationship with Stolas. He's aware that showing Stolas a very good time is the exact thing he needs to do in order to keep using the Grimoire to keep his business running. And Blitzø knows how to do that.

Blitzø really had the fight knocked out of him in Apology Tour, after barely recovering from the emotional gut-punch that he got in Full Moon.

He's had to confront a lot of the parts of himself that he's been covering up and masking; he's growing emotionally, but that growth is leaving his heart raw and hurting.

But I think what's most important is that Blitzø has never had sex with someone he's in love with, and have it just be about love. He couldn't be honest enough with himself to admit he loves Stolas before; all their prior sex nights were work for Blitzø.

So when sex is no longer work or fun, but it's now love... how does someone like emotionally-stunted Blitzø even go about it?

Awkwardly, that's how.

[reonnex]

People always talk about the Kaz and Wylan parrells but have we ACTUALLY went in and talked about them??

They both lost their parents around the exact same time. In the books Kaz is one year older then Wylan and his dad died when he was nine. Marya had "died" whenever Wylan was eight years old. Both had their lives flipped upside for the worst in the SAME YEAR.

Both of them had their lives ruined by a man they put all their trust in and fought to get revenge for. With they BOTH did.

Kaz only fought back because he wanted revenge for Jordie. Jordie was his sole purpose for ticking and going after Pekka. Wylan's was Marya. His mother. Throughout the first book despite wanting to get back at his father, he still feels guilt and is more afraid of him then revengeful. But after he learns his mother is alive?? After he learns what his father did to her? That is his motive. That is what kept Wylan going. And Kaz knew that.

PWATER WATER WATER DORNWING REBIRTHING SO MANY PARALLELS OH MY GOD

Both Kaz and Wylan were rebirthed from the water. Kaz states that the child he used to be had died, and for Wylan's sake its the same. Wylan Van Eck died that night just like Kaz Retived did. The only difference was that Wylan didn't kill who he was. He just pushed him down.

(Fun fact to note that Wylan has his own scheming face as well others point out)

And the show does not hold back on these parallels as well but also shows how opposite these two are. Both of them hid so much of themselves from the person they loved and they BOTH admitted it in a momment of trust. Wylan asking Jepser what his passport says, and Kaz telling Inej about how pekka killed his brother. And even then they both still hide the full truth. But unlike Kaz, Wylan doesn't pull away from Jesper. Even if he doesn't tell him that he is a Van Eck. Wylan accepts the key. Kaz keeps his armor on.

Wylan had every chance to become Kaz, and Kaz had every chance to become Wylan.

[porcelana-r0ta]

JOYRIDE

Fandoms: Batman, Danny Phantom

Relationship: Dan Phantom/Jason Todd

Word Count: 3,823

Ao3 Link: Available only to registered users

Summary:

Dan doesn't want to join his Habitudes group for their dumb community service project, which is why he lets two idiot goons kidnap him off the streets. When said goons turn out to work for The Joker, Dan decides to do something about him, maniac to maniac.

Or: The Joker tries to live stream a ransom, but ends up live streaming his own execution.

xxXxx

When Dan Nightingale is grabbed off the streets of Gotham, he makes a half-hearted struggle, just so he can seem human. The kiddie hero business and the indiscriminate genocidal tendencies no longer call to him like they used to, and while he’s still an impatient person who is intolerant of disruptive bullshit, he needs a little excitement in his life. 

Plus, he wants an excuse to get out of his Habitudes community service project. His pretentious trust fund baby groupmates chose to volunteer at some fucking coffee shop instead of something normal, like a hospital or an animal shelter. (Dan didn’t even know a coffee shop was an option, but anything goes for wealthy elites who want to roleplay as an impoverished barista, apparently.) Well, Jay Peters wasn’t so bad, and he was just as irritated as Dan was about the others’ choice. Plus, the chill that settles into Dan’s unused lungs when the other student is around shows that he’s at least Death-touched like him, even if they’ve never acknowledged that to each other. 

So, yeah. He lets himself be kidnapped by two goons, even if he could easily break free and make their insides their outsides. It could be interesting! Enrichment in his pandimensional parole! Everyone’s got to have fun sometimes! It’s like a little joyride, as a treat! But he isn’t the one committing the crime! How quaint!

Dan is a very polite captive. He lets himself be pulled into a creeper van with minimal resistance. He lets the goons zip tie his hands. He lets them put a black bag over his head, even though it smells of weed. He doesn’t count the number of turns they take, nor does he try to talk them into letting him go. In fact, he doesn’t say anything. When they eventually park, he allows the men to pull him out of the creeper van and into some building—likely a warehouse, judging by the echo of their footsteps on the floor. And finally, he lets the goons cut off the zip ties around his wrists and then tie them to the metal arms of a chair. 

He’s a great captive. And he’s so going to be excused from that stupid Habitudes community service project!

He’s content to sit and wait. The Bats of Gotham City usually have a good response time for villain bullshit, and if they don’t, then it’s not like any Fear gas or sex pollen will affect him. Dan’s not really human anymore, even if he is capable of looking so. 

Dan does not have to wait long. The footsteps increase and then stop altogether, and then a cackle fills the air. “Camera man ready? Mics? Charges?” The voice is familiar, yet grating. Where has he heard it before? In his past future, maybe?

“Yes, sir,” comes the reply from several different people. 

A pleased cackle, “Then let’s get started!”

“We are live in three… two…” 

At the silent one, the cackle echoes through the room once again. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen of Gotham City and beyond! I’m your favorite Joker, LIVE! With one of your favorite Wayne children!” 

Dan, who has been relatively chill this whole time, tenses. The Joker. That’s why he recognizes that cackle and voice. He had killed the clown before in his original timeline. Ugh, clowns. He fucking hates clowns. Hates their stupid pale makeup and their stupid dumb wigs and their exaggerated eyes and he fucking hates how they make him feel like he’s not in control. 

And what was that about a Wayne? 

Dan doesn’t think killing someone like The Joker in his original timeline should be held against him. Honestly, the guy is a megalomaniacal terrorist who abuses the guise of mental illness to get away with crimes against humanity. Dan had at least owned up to his own sanity, and never tried to hide from the law or anything like that. He just kind of… killed the law. 

….ACAB? 

A hand suddenly grips at the bag on his head, grabbing hair with fabric. “That’s right, folks! Here’s Gotham’s beloved Dick Grayson!” The bag is yanked off his head, revealing Dan in all his scowling glory. And Dan is a lot of things, but an exact Dick Grayson copy he is not, so while the goons may have mistaken him as Grayson, The Joker does not. 

He pauses, studying Dan’s face. Dan raises a mocking eyebrow, then looks around the warehouse. 

It’s empty and dimly lit, but it’s not a problem for his superior vision. The metal walls are an ugly beige and the floor is a gray cement, its color only broken by mysterious brown stains, and now the discarded black bag. Dan is up against a wall, surrounded by filming equipment. The camera in question is just a fucking iPhone 12 attached to a ring light. There’s one goon behind the camera, moderating the live stream. There is another goon holding a boom mic above Dan and The Joker, and there are four others behind the camera. All of the goons who are not handling equipment are holding toy musket guns. It is probably safe to assume that there are similarly armed goons guarding the doors that Dan cannot see from his position tied to a chair. Likely two goons per exit. In a warehouse of this size, there have to be at least six more goons that Dan isn’t seeing. 

The Joker grits his teeth. “Who brought the Grayson kid here.” It’s not a question so much as it is a demand. 

“We did, boss,” two goons pipe up proudly from behind the camera. 

“Why don’t you two come up on camera so I can congratulate you for good work?” The Joker grins beseechingly. 

One of the two goons, the blond, shuffles nervously at this, whereas the other puffs out his chest. So only one has any brain cells. 

The prideful one grabs his comrade by the arm and drags him up to the camera with Dan and The Joker. They stand in front of Dan, blocking him from the camera’s view.

“I always reward good work, you see,” he says to his henchmen. “Now, you think this is good work?” 

“Yes, sir,” says Pride, while Blond frowns. 

“Take a good look at his face.” The villain gestures angrily to Dan’s unimpressed face. “What do you see?” 

“Dick Grayson, sir,” 

Blond shuffles, “He looks like he isn’t scared.” 

“No! Wrong! This isn’t Dick Grayson! This– This is some—” The Joker takes another glance at Dan, noting the black Gotham U hoodie that hides his muscles. “This is some fucking college twink!”

“Twink?” Dan mutters to himself, disgruntled. Sure, the hoodie is baggy and he’s seated instead of standing, but do those two things add up to him looking like a twink? 

The color has drained out of even Pride’s face at The Joker’s words. “Sir, please—”

But The Joker is already pulling out a comically large toy gun that probably has real bullets, and Dan sighs. It would probably be bad for his parole if he let a bunch of humans die in front of him. 

He phases out of the ropes binding him, safe from view with the two idiots in front of him. Then, he kicks The Joker down to the floor, sending the toy gun scattering across the cement floor of the warehouse. He stands and knocks Pride and Blond’s heads together, knocking them out as The Joker screeches with rage. 

The goons behind the camera aim their guns, but Dan is already moving behind the camera. He snags the guns out of their hands, snapping them in half with strength he doesn’t even have to think about. He moves so fast that at first they don’t even realize what’s happened. By the time they connect their missing firearms to the broken bits of metal on the floor, Dan has already clobbered them over the head, knocking them unconscious. 

He takes out the cameraman, too, and the goon holding the boom mic. Then, in mere seconds, he takes out all the goons at each exit, and he’s back at the filming station by the time The Joker has staggered to his feet. His original estimate had been off by two—there were eight other goons in total. 

Dan checks the iPhone—still live streaming. On TikTok, of all the goddamn apps. The comments are going wild on what’s going on: where’s the college student, how did he kick The Joker like that, do you guys think that those two goons have brain damage now, what was that metal scraping sound, where is The Joker? 

“Hey, brat!” snarls The Joker, clutching at his ribs. “That was not part of the script.”

Dan hates clowns, and he especially hates The Joker. Sure, Dan wiped out nearly all of humanity. Who doesn’t have a bad decade of villainous activity? But he did it quickly, and he didn’t do it under the guise of insanity. He owned up to it. And if Dan’s being honest, he’s… disgusted by it all now, even if it hurts himself to admit. 

If Dan isn’t human, then neither is The Joker. 

Still off camera, Dan moves so fast he basically teleports in front of The Joker. The other man stumbles back, but Dan reaches out and grabs him by the throat. He chokes and claws at Dan, but Dan isn’t human anymore, and so his nails catch on nothing but the cloth of his hoodie. He doesn’t even feel it.

He drags The Joker to the chair in front of the still live camera and shoves him into it. While he recovers from being choked, gasping and shuddering and so fucking human , Dan forces his hands behind him and uses the ropes he’d phased out of to tie The Joker up. When he ties the last knot, Dan stands tall, staring into the camera. 

“Hello, friends and family,” he greets the audience. He gives a small smile, and he makes sure that he is perfectly, utterly human with normal blue eyes and normal black hair and normal human skin. “As you can see, things have turned around for The Joker here. Now, I’m sure his original intent was to ransom out the Wayne kid, and it would be a shame to see that hard work and planning go to waste on a mistake, wouldn’t it? So why don’t we hold a… reverse ransom? Only, I don’t need funds. I’ll accept donations. My venmo is vladsucks03. My cashapp is dannight07.”

Dan’s smile grows into a wide grin. “Feel free to donate if you like. But even not a single person donates, The Joker dies today.” 

The Joker spits out a gasping laugh, “Ha! You think you can kill me? I gotta admit, that’s a good joke. But Batman—”

“Batman what?” Dan asks, stepping off camera to grab the black bag on the floor. He shoves it halfway into his pocket. He walks to The Joker’s toy gun, the only one he hadn’t broken, and he picks it up. 

“Batman is already on his way here,” The Joker says. “He always is by this point.”

“And Batman will save you?” Dan snorts. He moves to check the live stream, comments coming in so fast that the only reason he can read them is because he’s not human anymore. 

Is this for real

fuck yeah kill that guy

💥🔫🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

extremely common gotham uni W

im donating 50$ rn

Can we vote on how joker dies

Lol does he fr think that batman would help him

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Does anyone else find this incredibly attractive or is it just me 😳

guys my joker/batman fic update is gonna slap after this

Joker’s cooked

bro is about to have ao3 level donations

Hey what’s his cashapp again

Omg i think that guy is in my bio class

I’ll donate when hes acc dead

doin god's work 🥹👍

If bro doesnt do it he’s cooked

This guy is gonna have infinite rizz if he pulls this off

The Joker scoffs, “Of course he will. He’s done it before.”

Dan yanks his gaze from the comments to The Joker’s face, “What?”

The Joker nods his head up arrogantly. “Batsy can’t live without me. He saved me after fickle-ickle Nightwing killed me.” 

“Huh.” Dan blinks consideringly, switching his gaze back to the comments. They’re all freaking out about this new information. He steps back into the camera frame, pulling the hammer back on the toy gun. “Then I’ll just have to make sure it sticks.” 

He points the gun at The Joker’s face and fires. As expected, rainbow confetti is the only thing that flies out, dusting over The Joker in celebration of what is to come. 

The Joker laughs. 

“Cute,” says Dan. He walks around The Joker to stand behind him, directly in front of the camera. He removes the black bag from his pocket and puts it over The Joker’s face. 

He shoves the muzzle of the gun into the back of The Joker’s skull. Pulling back the hammer, he asks, “Any last words?” 

He pulls the trigger before The Joker can say anything. It’s funny. As expected, the second gunshot is a real bullet. The Joker’s head and body jerks forward. Blood splatters on Dan’s face, but it’s mostly on the floor and the unconscious Blond and Pride and on The Joker himself. 

For a moment, Dan can only stare. The Joker’s body is crumbled in on itself, held up only by the bindings on his arms to a chair nailed to the ground. 

He feels big. He feels good. 

He feels… dirty.

He clears his throat. He drops the gun. He lifts up the soaking black bag up just enough to check for a pulse. After thirty seconds of nothing, he says, “Well, that’s the end of The Joker.” 

He looks up, staring into the camera lens, and he chuckles. “I missed my community service project because of this bozo. You guys think my professor will accept this as community service?”

You guys think this will affect my ghost parole? he doesn’t ask. 

He bends down to check the pockets of Blond. He finds his phone and uses Blond’s thumbprint to bypass the password. His stomach curdles at the home screen—a picture of Blond and a little girl with his eyes and his nose. His eyes burn and he calls 911, trying not to blink.

“911 dispatch. What is your emergency?”

“Yeah, uh, I killed The Joker. But he kidnapped me first, so. Turnabout.” 

“You— sorry, you what?”

“I killed The Joker. He’s dead. I checked his pulse and everything.”

“O-oh.” The woman on dispatch sounds strangled. There are muffled sounds, frantic, that the receiver only barely picks up. Dan wonders what she’s doing, Asking for verification? Trying to triangulate his location? Celebrating the fucking good news? “Do you know where you are, sir?”

“Some warehouse, I guess. Probably at the docks. Do you want me to check?”

“No, sir, please stay where you are if there are no immediate threats.”

“Got it.” He clicks his tongue. 

“Can you tell me your name, sir? Are you injured somewhere?”

“I’m Dan. Uh, Dan Nightingale. I guess he thought I was the Grayson kid. Um. Dick Grayson, I mean. And no, I’m fine. His henchmen are injured and unconscious, though.” 

“Right. Okay. Hi, Dan. I’m Claire. First responders and patrol units are on their way to your location now.”

“Well, that’s good, I guess.” He almost wants to ask if she thinks that he’ll end up in Arkham for this, but he’s pretty sure that there’s no jury on Earth that would convict him. Well, maybe not. He did ask for donations for murdering The Joker, after all. That might put a damper on his defense. 

“Dan?” asks Claire. 

“Yeah?”

“Is– is he really dead?”

Dan looks at the body and kicks a limp leg, avoiding looking at the gory black bag. Nothing. “Yep. As a doornail.” And he knows death intimately. 

She breathes a shaky, staticky sigh into the receiver. “Thank you, Dan.”  

He blinks, “Can you get fired for saying that?”

She laughs, “Honey, everyone not on break right now is listening to this. My boss just broke a bottle of tequila out from his desk.” 

He barks out his own laugh. “Oh?”

“You’re about to be very popular, Dan.”

“Well, I—” 

And seventeen minutes late to the party, the windows at the top of the warehouse shatter open. In cascades of broken glass and grappling cables, the Bats drop down to the floor. 

“Away from the body,” commands Batman as soon as his feet hit the ground. His little birdies, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and the newest Robin fall in line with him. Robin makes quick work of rounding up the unconscious goons and binding them. 

Dan obligingly puts the hand that isn’t holding the phone up in the air, but before moving away from the camera’s view, he says, “Just a reminder guys, my venmo is vladsucks03 and my cashapp is dannight07. Please remember that I might need a lawyer soon.”

“Okay, funny guy,” Nightwing says, entering into frame and pulling Dan away by the shoulder while Red Robin shuts down the live stream.

“It was self-defense and defense of another. A whole population, if you will,” Dan says. 

Red Hood snickers, “Only crime here was the kidnapping.” 

“Dan, are you okay?”

“Bats are here, Claire,” Dan tells her. He watches Batman lift the black bag off The Joker’s face, revealing the viscera and gray matter beneath. He’s not smiling anymore. Dan hasn’t seen that kind of gore in years. He’s the cause of it once more and he doesn’t regret that. It feels invigorating. It feels devastating. “I guess I’ll hang up now. If The Joker is mysteriously alive after this, it’s because Batman couldn’t handle not being the hero.” 

“Dan—” He hangs up as Batman’s shoulders go minutely tense at his words. The man stands fully, turning his head slightly to narrow his cowled eyes at Dan. 

“Problem, sir?” 

“You killed The Joker.” 

“I saved myself and his two idiots.” He shrugs. 

“You had him restrained.” 

He rests an offended hand against his chest. “I was frightened that he would escape, sir, just as he escapes from the very place you put him every eight to ten months.” The Bat doesn’t want to be judge, jury, and executioner. Fine. Whatever, he gets it. Dan hadn’t wanted to be that, neither as hero nor villain. He’d wanted to save, he wanted to be saved, and then he wanted everyone to feel like he did. But he’s not so prideful now to know that he wouldn’t have stopped then, not unless someone handled the job permanently. 

The Joker needed permanence. 

The Bat can play fucking judge all he wants. But he’d be just as villainous if he tried enforcing his own moral code on other people.

“You asked for donations,” Red Robin says dryly. “You were basically putting a hit out on him.”

“My art in life textbook is $300. How much do you think a lawyer is going to cost?”

“Hn.” 

“Stop giving the man a hard time for doing a public service, Batman.” Red Hood shoulder checked Nightwing away and held out a gloved hand for Dan to shake. He takes the other’s hand and firmly shakes it. The contact, while not to skin, gives Dan goosebumps and chills his lungs. 

Jay?

“Let’s hope my Habitudes professor agrees with you.”

“She will. Everyone with three brain cells to rub together will.” The man cuts a glare at Batman. 

Dan didn't say what pronouns his professor uses. 

The rumble in Red Hood’s voice is enticing. He looks at the other man, really looks, and notices his broad shoulders, how tall he is (though Dan towers over him even  disguised as a human), and his muscled arms. Arms that Dan’s pretty sure are normally hidden beneath a Gotham U hoodie, just like his own. 

He smirks as sirens sound in the distance. “Let’s hope the cops agree with you.”

“They will,” Hood says. It sounds like a promise for something entirely different. 

“Gag me,” Red Robin mutters.

Robin says, “For once I agree with you.”

Without looking away from Dan, Red Hood flips the two off, and yeah, maybe redemption can be more promising than he initially thought. 

xxXxx

A week later, Dan finally goes back to his regular schedule. His ghost parole is intact—he’d even been thanked by some Gothamite ghosts, and Danny begrudgingly told him that there were ghosts who said they’d riot if Dan was given any punishment. As for the mortal side of things, Vlad Masters had graciously sent his team of attorneys to Dan’s aid. While Dan still hates him, he has no issue about using a free team of lawyers to defend him. He’s guaranteed to walk.

Jazz had called him. It made his core unsettled and stony. She wasn’t disappointed, and he doesn’t know how that makes him feel. He doesn’t regret it—The Joker would never change. But what does that say about him and his progress? 

Jazz in general makes him uneasy now. She used to be his big sister, and now she’s younger than him, and he tried to kill her, and— she’s different from his Jazz, is all. But if she’d always known like she said, then his Jazz did, too, right? Could she still be his Jazz, a Jazz who got to grow up? Still be his sister? It would be stupid to hope so, right?

He feels bitter.

She said she’s considering Gotham University as her college of choice as she nears high school graduation. Apparently, their psych department is amazing. 

So maybe hope isn’t so bad. 

Dan sits down at his 10:00 am Habitudes class. Everyone already in the room stares at him. Before they can offer any congrats or thanks or swarm him, Jay sits down next to him. 

Dan looks at Jay’s mostly black hair and his tuft of white at his front bangs. He’s wearing his usual Gotham U hoodie, a hoodie that likely hides muscled arms. A chill builds in his lungs like it did when speaking with Red Hood, like it has every other time he’s talked with Jay Peters. 

…Hm. A hoodie that definitely hides muscled arms. 

“Hey,” says Jay with a grin. “Crazy week, I hear?”

“You’re a Gothamite. I’m sure you’re aware of exactly how crazy it’s been.” 

“You should tell me about it sometime.”

“Sure. After class? We can grab an early lunch. Make it a date, maybe.”

Jay smiles, cute and small. His eyes flash green—a baby Death-touched soul, still can’t control his spooky abilities, how adorable—and he says, “That sounds perfect.”

[lustfulslxt]

Good Girl - Matt Sturniolo

summary : you and matt never got along, always going back and forth with some illogical feud. until the night of a party, everything changes with the consumption of alcohol

warnings : use of alcohol, smut

—

You just finished getting ready, walking downstairs to the living room to wait for the rest of them. You were going to Nate’s party with the triplets and Madi. Unfortunately for you, Matt was included in the triplets.

You two had never gotten along, for reasons unbeknownst to you. From the very start, Matt was always a jerk to you, so you were a bitch right back . That, lead to you both supposedly hating each other. Every time you guys were around one another, you both always had something smart to say, and there was never a time it wasn’t like that.

Honestly, if he would stop being such a douche, you could easily lose the attitude. But since he chooses to act the way he does, you were matching his energy.

And of course, the next one to emerge from his bedroom was Matt in all his fine glory. As much as you hate him, you couldn’t deny the fact that he was the finest man you’d ever seen. His soft and fluffy hair, his long skinny fingers, his tattoos. The way he carries himself alone was enough to make you want to drop your panties.

“What the fuck is your problem?” His bitter voice snaps you from your trance.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Matthew, why must you speak?”

“Well, your ass is standing there, staring, like you want to take a bite out of me.” He glares, a small smirk pulling to his lips.

“Don’t be ridiculous, kid. You couldn’t handle me.” You grin, mischievously.

“Please.” He scoffs, “I would have you running.”

“Before you guys jump into each other’s pants, can we leave?” Chris’ asks, causing both of you to look over.

That’s when you noticed the other three standing there, waiting for you and Matt to finish your never ending conversation.

You couldn’t help but say, “As if. I don’t think I could stand within a foot of this kid, let alone jump in his pants.”

You knew you were lying so hard. Sometimes, you wanted nothing more than for him to just shut up and fuck you. But seeing as he is the way he is, you knew that would never happen.

Without another word, the five of you walk out to the van, piling in and heading in the direction of Nate’s house.

It was about an hour into the party, you were having a good time. You had gotten separated from your friends, but you weren't complaining as you had shot after shot. It was only a total of four, but you were feeling good.

Dancing to the music, you observed your surroundings. In search of any of your friends, you come across Matt. He was leaning against the wall with a solo cup in his hand, his eyes intently staring at you. You couldn't help the smirk that spread across your face. For some reason, you loved that even with all the people here, you were the only one that had his attention.

Your hips swayed so perfectly and in sync with the loud music. Your hands trailed up and down your body, moving from your waist to your hair. You felt on top of the world with the alcohol coursing through your veins as you danced to the music, with Matt's eyes never leaving you once.

Your eyes connected once again, him tipping his cup up and emptying the rest of its contents into his mouth. And still, he never broke eye contact. You couldn't lie, it was getting you hot. Without another thought, you were making your way over to him.

"Matthew." You say, seductively.

"Y/N." He responds, his voice holding a slight rasp to it.

With a cheeky grin, you turned around and placed the back of your body against the front of his. You could feel him tense up, yet his hands still found their way to your waist.

"What are you doing?" He asks you, whispering in your ear.

You couldn't help the goosebumps that scattered across your skin, and the hairs standing up at the back of your neck.

"I'm giving you what you want, Matthew." You say, "You've been staring at me all night. So, here I am."

You began swaying to the music again, this time, grinding your hips into his. His hands firmly planted on your pelvis, guiding you back and forth.

"Do you wanna know what I was thinking about?" He asks, his lips softly brushing against your ear.

"Mhm." You hummed.

"Mm, I was thinking about fucking you senseless." He admits, his hand wrapping around your hair as he harshly bucks his hips into your ass.

A soft moan fell from your lips. You could feel his hard on poking into you and it drove you crazy. You wanted him inside you, so bad.

He continues, thrusting into you again. "I was thinking about how pretty you would look swallowing my dick."

Another moan escaped your mouth. You could feel your panties were drenched at this point. You couldn't help but tighten your pussy, clenching for some type of friction.

"I was thinking about how good your pretty little pussy would feel around my cock."

That was beyond enough for you to grab his hand and pull him to the guest room upstairs. You were in such a hurry, desperate to feel him bury himself inside you. You could tell he was big just from his hard on, and you couldn't wait to be stuffed by him.

As soon as you got in the room, he pushed you against the door and put his lips on yours. His kiss was hot and needy. His tongue immediately swiped your lip, begging for entrance. His hands went down to your ass, squeezing it, causing you to let out a little moan. He took the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth, exploring every inch of it.

You furiously both grabbed at one another, as if any second one of you would disappear. His hand gripped your jaw, turning your head away from him. Within seconds, his lips were back on you, leaving soft kisses along your neck. Occasionally, he would bite at your sensitive skin, sucking it right after to soothe the slight pain.

"God, you're driving me absolutely insane." He mumbles against your skin.

You softly moaned, "Mmm, I need you so bad, daddy."

You calling him that flipped a switch in him, and now all he wanted to do was completely wreck you. His dick was literally throbbing, begging for relief. He pulled away from you, his hands immediately tugging your shirt over your head and throwing it to the floor. Your bra following seconds later.

His mouth quickly travelled down your neck and chest, taking one nipple in his mouth while his hand tweaked the other one. You were letting out little whimpers, tugging him impossibly closer. You swiftly lifted his shirt, adding it to the growing pile of clothing on the floor.

You couldn’t help but take a moment to admire him. He was truly something else. His longish hair a bit messy from your wandering hands, his chain sitting perfectly against his chest, his tattoos scattered all over his arm, the growing beard on his chin. His pupils were blown out, hardly any blue showing as he stared at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. His lips were swollen and red from your feverish kisses.

All of him was turning you on more and more by the second.

He thought the same thing about you. He loved the way your skin flushed under his touch, how your breathing was slightly rapid from your heavy kissing. He loved how you looked at him with your big doe eyes, looking completely innocent when he knew you were far from it. He couldn’t wait to destroy you.

His lips quickly met yours again, and his hands went down to your jeans. In one swift motion, he had them unbuttoned and down your legs. As you kicked them and your shoes off, he started removing his own, leaving him in his boxers.

His dick was struggling in his boxers, begging to be let loose. You reached your hand out and palmed him through the thin fabric, causing him to sharply inhale as he grabbed your wrist.

His lips trailed down your neck once more, marking you up as he went. You could hear his little moans as he was close to your ear, and you almost came right then and there. He sounded so heavenly.

“Take these off.” You state, tugging on his boxers.

As he did so, you copied his actions, leaving you both naked. He stepped back from you for a second, taking in your appearance. You looked so good to him, he could feel his dick twitching.

Not wasting another second, he yanked you towards him by your neck and slammed his lips into yours. Your tongues were gliding together so perfectly, needing one another. He swiftly lifted you up, carrying you over to the dresser. He set you on it and began working down your body once again.

“Please.” You moaned out as his mouth worked on your nipples again.

“Use your words, princess.” He mutters into your skin.

“Please. Fuck me, daddy, please.” You begged. “I need you inside me.”

“Such a filthy slut.” He moans out, grabbing his dick and putting it at your entrance.

He swiped it between your folds, coating it in your arousal. He brought his other hand down, gliding a finger through your juices, causing you to let out a few moans. When he pulled his hand away, a string of wetness followed, and he couldn’t help but suck on his finger, savoring the way you tasted. Your jaw dropped at the sight, he looked magnificent. He pulled your legs farther apart, propping your feet up on the end of the dresser before ramming into you with his dick.

“Oh, fuck.” You moan out, tossing your head back.

He gave you a couple of slow thrusts before he picked up the pace and starting fucking you fast and hard. His dick was so big, hitting you in all the right places. Your mouth fell agape as multiple pornographic like moans fell from it, only encouraging him even more.

“God, I’ve been wanting to do this for so long. I knew you’d feel so good around my cock, princess.” He moaned, his lips meeting yours once again.

His thrusts were lethal, fucking into you so perfectly, you were a moaning mess under him.

“You’re taking me so well, baby.”

Your hands went down his back, nails digging into his skin in a sense of stability. You were quickly coming undone.

“Mm, baby. You’re so wet for me. Daddy’s little slut.”

The way he was talking to you was enough to send you over the edge. Your legs were shaking as you clenched around him, a loud moan escaping your mouth.

“Look at you, cumming without permission.” He teased, pinching your nipples.

You were a mess, but he still kept fucking you. Not even just for his own release, he was determined to make you cum again. He lifted your legs up, pushing them against your chest so he could fuck deeper. And he sure was, deeper than ever.

“Ahh fuck!” You scream, your face twisting in pleasure.

“Touch yourself for me, baby.” He moans out, watching you intently.

As he continued pumping in and out of you, you held eye contact with him, bringing your hand up to his mouth. Putting two fingers against his lips, he brought them in and sucked on them, lubricating them for you. After they were drenched in his saliva, you brought them down to your clit and slowly began rubbing it, all while holding eye contact.

“Fuck.” He groaned, fucking you impossibly faster as he watched you. “You listen so well, princess.”

You were a puddle beneath him, rubbing yourself in fast, tight circles. Your face contorted, eyebrows furrowed and eyes clenched shut, as you neared your climax.

“Open your eyes, baby. I want you to look me in the eyes when you cum on my cock.”

You both were moving at fast paces, nothing but pleasure coursing through the both of you. It felt so intimate as the two of you locked eyes, pleasure plastered over both of your faces.

“Fuck, daddy, you fuck me so good.” You moaned, tossing your head back for a moment.

“I know you’re almost there, baby. You’re so close.” He whispers, his hand gripping around your neck. “Let go, baby. Cum for me, cum all over daddy’s cock.”

Your legs shook as you tightened around him, one of your hands gripping his bicep while the other rubbed your clit in fast circles. Everything went white, your hearing going in and out as you released. You felt pure bliss, cumming all over his dick.

“Look at you, such a good girl for me, princess.”

You had to pull your hand away from your pussy as it was beginning to become to much for you. However, he had other thoughts and placed his hand back on your clit, rubbing his thumb over it. You were quivering underneath him, unable to control the shaking of your body and the noises that came from your mouth as you squirted all over. You were completely losing yourself to him and he loved every bit of it. So much that it brought him over the edge and he shot his load into you with a loud moan.

“Baby, you’re so fucking sexy.” He pants, out of breath as he fucked his nut into you. “You made such a mess, I love it.”

Your face heated up as you looked at the puddle beneath you and the wetness all over his thighs and stomach. He actually made you squirt, and it felt so fucking good.

After a moment of gathering your breaths and coming down from your highs, he finally pulls out and plants a sweet kiss to your lips.

“I knew you loved me.” You grinned at him.

He playfully rolls his eyes and slumps against you, placing a few more kisses all over your face. “Yeah, yeah. Shut up.”

—

a/n : sozzz, not proofread but what’s new? xD ugh i love me some matthew, i wanna b his cumslut so bad 😫😫😫😫 brb while i go nut. &&& request sum shizzz xx

[apuckishwit]

Making Room

Steve never gets into DnD.

Not even after Eddie convinces him to join a one-shot over one Christmas when the kids are all back from college and jobs and far-flung adventures. He's not a jerk about it or anything. He sits and makes a character with his boyfriend and he does his best with the role-playing and he only asks Dustin for help with the dice seven or eight times (and everyone had promised to give him an even dozen before they gave him shit about it, so it was fine). It's fine. He's not mad that he spent the time doing it with Eddie and the kids (some of them taller than him now, in spitting distance of college degrees and first apartments and jobs and spouses and lives, but they'll always be kids to him).

But afterwards he kisses Eddie and says it really and truly isn't for him, sorry babe.

And that's okay.

When he and Robin are scavenging through yet another thrift store for furniture and dishes and lamps for the apartment she and Nancy are getting in Indianapolis (he's so sad that her room in the little house he shares with Eddie is going back to being a guest room, but he's so damn happy that she and Nance have stopped dancing around each other...and they're only moving about half an hour away, he'll still see her all the time), and he spots an impractically long desk/table, onviously custom-built, with an absurd number of drawers and compartments built into it, he buys it immediately. He wrestles it into Eddie's van that they borrowed for the day, and smiles apologetically when Robin has to hold like three boxes on her lap. He gets it into their dining room while Eddie's at work, graciously gifting their own table to Robin and Nancy, and it's worth all the hassle (and the fact that one end of the table pokes about a foot into the living room space) when Eddie comes home to something big enough for even his most complicated campaign maps and with plenty of storage for all his dice and miniatures and source books.

And sturdy enough for Eddie's most...enthusiastic...thanks, they find out that night.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But every time Hellfire (whatever incarnation of Hellfire it is, be it the Hawkins crew or some of the guys from the little record shop Eddie works at in town, or some combination) meets up for a game, they get used to Eddie yelling, "Stevie! Evens or odds?" everytime a situation calls for a luck die. They learn that complimenting the snacks Steve sets out will sometimes get them advantage on a roll. They watch Eddie snag Steve's wrist as he passes in or out of the dining room and get him to roll a D20 for various and random reasons. Steve always obliges, before drifting back to the couch with a beer or a slice of pizza and whatever basketball or baseball game is on.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But sometimes Eddie spreads newspapers over the Campaign Table (TM) and sets pots of paint and rows of miniatures out, and he and Steve sit together for a few hours, Steve slapping on the basecoats with a single pot of white, gray, or black and Eddie going to town on the details while they chat about their day, playing footsie under the table or stealing kisses while they wait for something to dry.

"Babe! I need a name for the friendly barkeep who knows more than he seems!"

"Carl."

"He's a half-orc!"

"Those are the big green guys, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Hmmm. Big Carl."

"Perfect!"

Steve never gets into DnD. But he loves Eddie, and he loves how into DnD Eddie is. So he makes room in his life for this thing that Eddie loves.

***

Eddie never gets into sports.

Like, objectively he understands that some people enjoy running around getting all sweaty, trying to keep some kind of ball away from other people and make it go into some kind of receptacle. And he certainly appreciates the view of some of those people in tight little shorts.

Particularly Steve.

Like honestly? If it wouldn't get him labeled a total creep (and they weren't so careful about giving anyone a reason to question the assumption that they're just two young friends living together to save money until they find respectable women to marry)...he'd park his van out by the little middle school where Steve teaches gym and coaches basketball and baseball every day during his lunch break, just to watch his boyfriend run the mile with his students in those shorts that hug the muscles of his thighs just right.

But he doesn't like sports apart from the strictly prurient interest he has in watching Steve wear sports-appropriate clothes.

He tries. He wants to know just what it is that keeps Steve glued to the TV when his favorite teams are playing, wants to understand why Steve yells and groans and jumps up with wild cheers, spilling popcorn all over the living room floor. He just...doesn't get it. Steve tries to explain March Madness to him one year and it makes no more sense than when Wayne tried to when Eddie was a kid. Eventually he just shrugs, kisses Steve's nose, and goes back to petting through his boyfriend's hair with a, sorry, baby, it's not for me.

And that's okay.

He gets up early the week Steve is overseeing baseball tryouts, to make sure his boyfriend has a travel mug of coffee fixed just the way he likes it, and a good breakfast waiting for him when he gets out of the shower. Steve is unquestionably the cook in their relationship, but Young Eddie ate a lot of breakfast for dinner over the years and Adult Eddie makes damn good pancakes, omelettes, and French toast.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he gets Lucas to break down exactly what kind of notes and stats Steve will be keeping track of and draws up a template "character sheet" for baseball players, spending an hour at the local library laboriously making copies with their cantankerous mimeograph machine.

He sure as shit never gets up at the crack of dawn to go running around the neighborhood the way Steve does...but on days when it starts raining or snowing halfway through Steve's run, he'll drag himself out of bed and throw some towels in the dryer, so they're nice and warm when Steve comes back inside.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he takes every overtime shift he can for a month, so he can take Steve to Chicago for his twenty-fifth birthday to see the Bulls play. The seats aren't great or anything, and it's noisy as fuck, crowded as fuck, and he has no idea why his boyfriend is losing his mind every time that Jordan guy so much as touches the ball...but Steve's eyes are sparkling, the color is high in his cheeks, and when they get back to their hotel that night, they've barely closed the door before Steve is shoving him against it, devouring his mouth.

"Hey Eds, Ohio State or Georgia Tech?"

"For what?"

"I'm doing my brackets for the pool I've got with Hopper and Lucas!"

"Um, whoever's in red!"

"Ohio State it is, thanks babe!"

Eddie never gets into sports. But that's okay. He loves Steve, and he loves how happy Steve is when he's playing, or coaching, or running (God help him, he fell in love with someone who gets up at six am to run. Without anything chasing him.) So he makes room in his life for this thing that Steve loves.

Because certainly, love grows in shared passions and matching interests. But it also flourishes in the carefully tended space you make just for the things that make your person happy...even if it's just not for you.

[cheesus-doodles]

How does Ran view Rindo’s best friend reader? And what’s his opinion on their relationship? I really like your work on Rindo and reader!

thank you for your kind words anon!

Masterlist | Rindo Tags

ㅤ‎

Ran thinks that the two of you together are adorable.

Yes sure, he knows damn well that both the both of them are delinquents who ruthlessly rule the back alleys of Roppongi with an iron fist, and that they are indeed supposed to be feared. But how was he supposed to think any other way when he sees Rindo with you?

Even though you clearly are the more easygoing and naive of your little pair with a tendency to go along with whatever it was that Rindo wanted, in Ran's eyes, its still his younger brother who comes off as the lost puppy trailing you looking for affection and attention, happy to let you lead him around by the nose. Yes, both of the Haitanis have both been in and out of juvie for various reasons, and Ran is perfectly aware of how Rindo is actually like during fights, having no qualm with breaking bones and putting faces through cement. Yet Ran still finds it hard to find any good reason to fear Rindo whenever you are arm-in-arm with him, chattering away with a complete lack of awareness to your surroundings. Ran, in fact, finds it rather amusing to occasionally poke his younger brother by linking arms with you just to get a reaction out of him and see him growl and threaten.

There was no way that Ran could possibly hate you, not with what you had done for Rindo. As the older of the two (not by much but still), Ran takes it upon himself to learn about and keep an eye out for Rindo, even if the younger Haitani dislikes his older brother's intrusions into his life.

And from what Ran can tell, Rindo has only changed for the better - as much as a delinquent can, at least. He knew that the day you picked Rindo over him was the day that something within Rindo had sparked (or snapped), and the younger Haitani had never let go of you since then, which you didn't seem to mind. Good thing either way, since with you came a sense of responsibility for Rindo that he never had, and Ran do so appreciate Rindo caring about something outside of picking fights for a change. Maybe you could get him to care about bills as well soon.

You did bring a breath of fresh air into both their lives, which the older of the brothers appreciates. With you came normal afternoons, calm evenings, and even peaceful nights; being a regular civilian with no ties to the gang life, you usually were the one to drag the two Haitani brothers around to your favourite cafes or the newest shops. Normal activities. Of course, the the only caveat to peace and normality being that you were within arm's length of Rindo, but that was easy enough to achieve.

‎

Ran does however wish from time to time that you were the slightest bit more self aware and less air-headed. The amount of stress you cause his younger brother on a day-to-day basis simply can't be healthy, but more importantly, it affects Ran as well. Don't get him wrong, this older delinquent was content to watch his younger brother run around like a headless chicken from time to time, but when it spills over into his life and causes Ran to lose his precious sleep is where he draws the line. Maybe with a few more brain cells, you would be able to learn which action would result in a explosive reaction from your best friend, but it has already been years and Ran isn't hopeful.

Rindo always anxiously checking in on you whenever he could as if you would vanish off the face of the earth the moment he wasn't looking (being lured into a van and kidnapped with candy was what Rindo swears would be enough to work on you, and Ran didn't doubt as much). And when he couldn't, Ran would have the chance to be amused by his younger brother compulsively opening and closing his phone every second just to make sure he wasn't missing any messages that you were sending him, before giving in after five minutes and simply calling you. This would quickly turn into a full blown cursing and swearing session when you fail to pick up within half a minute, followed by a panicked Rindo dropping everything to take off and hunt you down.

This usually happens during school time, when the younger of the Haitanis reluctantly let you attend class, only to storm your classroom later on, though meltdowns also tend to happen at night when you aren't sleeping over at their place. And the latter is when Ran gets awoken by all the scrambling, sometimes getting dragged up as well to look for you when Rindo happens to barge into your room on the rare occasion you wandered out for a midnight snack.

Despite Ran knowing that whatever Rindo has going on with you isn't quite normal, with Rindo being a tad too obsessed with knowing where you were and what you were doing at all times, the older delinquent doesn't care. As long as his younger brother was happy, Ran was content with playing along. And alas, until Ran can knock some common sense into that empty head of yours, he'll settle for tying you to a chair and hauling your ass back to Rindo.

Ah the woes of being an older brother.

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about this quote I saw where it said "You're so sweet but you have teeth that only a hunter could have. Here, Let me help you try them out. You can have a taste of me" or something and it's supposed to be a very complicated quote about helping someone find themselves knowing that they're going to bite the hand that feeds them and yet you do not mind because you know that the bite is not meant to be aggressive.

It makes me think about how willing Wade is to let Logan be animalistic around him to the point of letting him hurt him and bite him simply because Wade understands what it's like to be forced to hide your true self and how lonely it must have been for Logan to have to restrain his rough play style because he didn't want to hurt anyone.

I think this is one of the most beautiful parts of the Fox sculpture scene and the van scene. Where Logan realizes that he has a playmate now, and while he doesn't WANT to hurt Wade, but he CAN because it doesn't have any real consequences. He can be as feral as he wants with Wade, bite him, scratch him, kick him, and yet Wade comes back for more every time. Asks him to play rough, begs Logan to show him his true self, something he's not used too and is suspicious about.

And at the end of the day, even if it does hurt like a bitch, Wade forgives him and praises him for being himself (Wade saying hes a good big strong boy when he skewers Cassandra).

I think of it, like when a dog finds a dog who matches his play style despite other dogs not enjoying the pushy and tackling methods. But Wde does. He'll tackle Logan right back because these two morons are very rough at their core.

Imagine a Mastiff only living with chihuahuas and getting told off for playing too rough all the time but this mastiff meets an equally rough great dane and become perfect playmates.

THAT is Logan.

Or imagine your cat is running around with zoomies and bites your arm. That's Logan too.

THAT'S why they go from fighting to playing to fucking. It's only half the fact of it being hot and attractive, but also it emotionally validates Logan, making him feel understood, cared for and loved. What is the best way to show someone you want them to be themsleves? Idk let them stab you I guess?? But don't do that.

Also, funfact various species do this, including humans. Many people prefer playing and understanding behavior before deciding to sleep with someone, Wolverines are not any different.

[solarmorrigan]

Steve is always the first to fall asleep.

The first time Eddie had insisted Steve stay the night, he and Eddie had stayed up late watching a movie and Steve had looked like he was about to pass out. Eddie wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if Steve had fallen asleep at the wheel on his way home, so he’d told Steve to just stay. Then he’d gotten up to brush his teeth and had come back to find Steve already zonked out on the couch. From that very first time, Steve has always fallen asleep before Eddie.

When their movie nights run long, Steve starts nodding off against the back of the couch, and then later against Eddie’s shoulder. On nights when being alone just doesn’t feel like an option, when occupying the same bed just seems like the most practical solution, it’s always Steve whose eyes slip closed first, who starts up that whistling little snore that he vehemently denies when he’s awake. Later, Eddie finds out that Steve will fall asleep even faster with Eddie all wrapped up around him, arm tight around Steve’s waist.

Once, when they head out to the lake to smoke in the back of Eddie’s van, doors thrown open to let in the clear night, Steve falls asleep half on the mess of blankets Eddie had thrown down as cushioning, and half on top of Eddie. Eddie himself doesn’t really sleep that night; it isn’t safe for them to both fall asleep – not out here, not like this, but Steve looks so fucking exhausted that Eddie doesn’t really want to wake him. Steve drives them home in the morning, and Eddie catches a nap then.

The only exception, really, is on the nights when Eddie has nightmares, when Eddie is feeling jumpy, when Eddie can’t help but look at every fluttering shadow as a threat. Then, Steve will sit up against the pillows and pull Eddie back against him and promise to keep watch; and with Steve solid and steadfast at his back, Eddie can’t help but fall asleep.

At least, Eddie had assumed that was the only exception.

D&D runs long one night—the kids’ parents don’t seem to mind their staying out late as long as they know they’re all at Steve’s house, and Eddie will never let him live down his popularity with the suburban moms, considering how many parties he’d thrown during his high school years—and they agree that it would be easier to simply crash at Steve’s for the night than it would be to go dropping everyone off at home at goddamn midnight.

They pop a movie in and set up around the living room with blankets and pillows raided from closets and spare rooms. The boys are relegated to the floor while El and Max cohabitate in the easy chair. Erica stretches out on the couch, but since she’s short and the couch is enormous, it’s easy for Eddie and Steve to curl up together at the other end.

“You gonna make it to the end of the movie?” Eddie teases, even while draping Steve’s arm over his shoulder like it’s his favorite blanket.

From the floor, Dustin snorts. “Are you kidding? Steve never falls asleep first.”

“I think I’ve only seen him sleep once, but that might’ve been a trick of the light,” Will adds, and Lucas snickers.

Eddie turns to glance at Steve, because what the kids are saying is patently untrue, but Steve only raises his eyebrows at Eddie. “I think I’ll be fine,” he says, and turns back to the screen.

And, in fact, by the end of the movie, nearly everyone else has dropped off, but Steve is still perfectly alert. Even Eddie, who at some point ended up mostly horizontal, with his legs parallel to Erica’s and his torso in Steve’s lap, is starting to nod off. He wants to ask Steve if there’s anything wrong, ask why he hasn’t gone all sleepy and soft at Eddie’s side like he always does, but then Steve’s fingers work their way into Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s out like a light.

They’re woken in the morning by the sound of teenagers trying to be quiet in the kitchen, and it’s like nothing at all out of the ordinary has happened, but Eddie’s curiosity is piqued now, so he starts paying attention.

Any time the kids are with them for the night, any of the kids at any of their houses, Steve stays awake. He stays up while everyone else falls asleep around him, while even Eddie falls asleep, and Eddie realizes – he’s keeping watch. He’s looking out for threats while everyone else is vulnerable.

But he almost never seems to worry about staying awake when it’s just him and Eddie.

Eddie tries to puzzle it out. He spends half an hour or so potentially offended that Steve apparently cares what happens to the kids but not to Eddie, but he knows that isn’t it. Steve is always awake when Eddie needs him to be – and what’s more, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Steve sleep more soundly than when he’s curled up against Eddie, circled by his arms.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t care at all, it’s that he trusts Eddie. He trusts Eddie more than anyone.

This is a mind-blowing revelation, somehow. Eddie has no idea what he’s done to earn it, but he knows immediately that he’s going to do his damndest to keep it.

The next time they end up in sleepover formation, it’s in the Wheeler’s basement. They’re all crunched up on chairs and the old sofa, though the braver party members (or at least those more inured to the stains on the carpet) have decided to take their chances with the floor.

It’s been a bad week; one of the few nights Steve had decided to simply head home to sleep after a late shift instead of coming over to Eddie’s had been a nasty, blustery night, and the power in Loch Nora had flickered, and flickered, and then gone out entirely.

Steve, the idiot, had stuck it out the whole night, but Eddie doubts he’d slept. And he hasn’t slept right since, twitching at every noise and shifting restlessly against whatever his dreams were assaulting him with. For once, Eddie had actually been the safer option as carpool driver; Steve has looked ready to drop all night.

Now, Eddie looks up at him from his spot on the floor, where he’s been leaning against Steve’s chair, half asleep against his legs and resting his head on Steve’s knee. He can see Steve’s eyes start to droop closed, his breathing going slower, deeper, and then, almost as if shocked, Steve sits up again, blinking and shaking his head, searching the room for danger that isn’t there. It makes Eddie’s chest hurt.

Quietly, he stands up off the floor, patting Steve on the hip.

“Up,” Eddie orders, and, sleep-deprived and half on autopilot, Steve obeys.

He watches in confusion as Eddie pulls over a milk crate full of old magazines and then sits down in the chair Steve has just vacated. He scoots back as far as he can and spreads his legs to make room for Steve in front of him.

“Lean back,” Eddie says softly, once he’s tugged Steve down into the chair, then gestures at the crate. “Put your feet up.”

“Eddie...” Steve protests, barely more than a mumble as he practically melts into Eddie, hands coming up to cover the ones that are clasped over his waist.

“Shh. I’ve got them. I’ll keep watch.” Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s temple, murmuring into his ear, “Get some rest.”

And, miraculously, Steve does.

Eddie doesn’t sleep a wink that night, and the position he’s resigned himself to is deeply uncomfortable, but for the grateful look Steve sends him in the morning, for the renewed light in his eyes, Eddie figures it’s worth it.

[freuleinanna]

ngl van helsing and mina's relarionship is very very dear to me and does in fact have me in chokehold

we're expecting jack seward to be van helsing's protégé, them being academics and jack having been vh's student. and yet jack is the least flexible in his beliefs. meanwhile mina, despite not having any relevant education, demonstrates all qualities that van helsing seeks and respects!

she's anticipating the need for a record and typewrites her and jonathan's diaries in advance, plus later continues her task to make sure they all have access to the least available bit of information (to which van helsing refers a LOT closer to the end)

she's quick-minded and can surprise the old professor (cue the 'teehee sure read my diaries oops it's in shorthand' scene, after which vh basically goes I AM ADOPTING HER, teary-eyed)

she has a chronical case of understanding him instantly. parallel the scene with jack 'WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN ELEPHANTS LIVE LONGER' seward and the scene with mina 'SAY NO MORE I GOT YOU DRACULA IS FLEEING BACK HOME' harker, it's just so funny to me

van helsing constantly saying how he needs jack to have an open mind, yet here's madam mina, self-educated on the horrors in castle dracula, asking van helsing himself to keep an open mind as he reads the diaries!

in van helsing's memorandum he says she obediently does anything he asks. she even gets up to leave the wafer circle, although she can't. like.... she knows that van helsing is testing her, and helps willingly. she feels the changes in herself, and she allows her friend to carry out his research too.

they are SO quick to follow each other's thoughts! mina discovers hypnotism as means to speak freely and calls for van helsing right away. and he gets her without missing a beat

don't even get me started on every time mina saves the situation and van helsing muttering 'wonderful woman!' under his breath. he cares for her so deeply it's insane and heart-warming and bittersweet

and that damn november 4 entry? van helsing being afraid, afraid, afraid! of mina and the changes she undergoes. yet he continues to care about his friend. huge thanks to @re-dracula for bringing each emotion to life in such a vivid manner

in conclusion, mina harker is van helsing's spiritual kin and i am not normal about it

[nthspecialll]

Misinterpretations of Javier

Honestly, I should not be surprised that people misinterpret Javier when the entire fandom even misinterprets Arthur, but oh my lord I have never seen anyone be this wrong. "Javier is just a pretty boy who can sing, he is such a flat character," you know you are just outing yourself as a lazy player right? And I am not talking like, people who don't know minor details about him, like they don't know he has a sister or something, but people who just don't know anything at all about him and then claim that there just isn't anything to know.

The majority of Javier's personality is given to us through side missions and camp interactions, it is not just given to us through main quests like John or Dutch is but the fact that some people are too lazy to notice it does not mean it is not there because trust me it is.

Another one I see is "Javier is just a bad person who looks good," and in some way, yes, but he is in no way a worse person than John or Arthur. He is a criminal, they are all criminals, but a lot of people tend to see his meanness from desperation in chapter six as him being a bad person and not wanting the others to have a good life, wanting them to go down when Dutch does. You know that he was a revolutionary right? He put his own life on the line so others could get a better life? He wants people to survive but the thing that he needs Dutch to be right.

Javier risks his family's life if he goes back to Mexico and is in America as a Mexican with a criminal record he would not be able to make an honest living and the gangs he would fall in with aren't guaranteed to be as progressive as the Van Der Lindes, he does not have anywhere to go, he needs Dutch to be right.

"But he did go back to Mexico!" He is holed up in a mountains in 1907, you can read that in the newspapers, he is staying far away from everything and anything.

People call Javier a bad person for choosing "the wrong side" and being aggressive in chapter 6, something that first appears when that desperation sets in, up until then he is not at all aggressive without reason (such as being called a slur).

[novelconcepts]

There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.

Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.

Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).

But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?

How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.

How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.

How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.

How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?

All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?

They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.