#this has been sitting in my drafts for so long

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

I 100% have a whole Scheme planned out for the super likely and definitely going to happen event in which I win the Comics Books Lottery and get to be the CEO of DC for a day lmao I have been dreaming about what I'd do for this for MONTHS!

welcome to the first draft test screening of...

Red Hood: Vein Tides

ISSUE #1

We open on a panel of a mugging which has just begun, then, the next panel pulls back to show us the looming silhouette of THE RED HOOD looking down. The view of the mugging is split into two panels side by side across the width of the page with the blacked out shape of Jason in the middle, poised to spring down and attack!

But he doesn't. Instead we see his inner monologue as he continues to let this go on.

The panel on the left holds the mugger and Jason's first thought box: [John Abernac. Father of four. He lives down the street. He's also about to get evicted due to late rent.]

The panel on the right holds the victim [Don't recognize her. Do recognize the pearls. Genuine. Two grand, easy, if you know a good fence.]

We face Jason, seeing him in an impassive, unreadable full face mask OR in full creacher mode with only the two red dots of his eyes visible in the darkness of the hood. [Four kids kept off the streets for the price of endangering one stranger who can clearly afford it? Simple math... so long as nothing goes wrong.]

The mugger reaches for her jewelry. [Maybe I don't love or understand God...]

[But I am praying.] Closeup of his white knuckle grip on the hilt of his kris.

The mugging goes as fine as threatening someone with a knife for their possessions can. He wasn't needed, and tonight, everybody walks away unharmed.

Jason steps away from the edge and breathes a sigh of relief. [That's the difference between me and Bruce... He's never been able to make the hard choices.]

[And after tonight, with any luck, any luck at all, I won't have to.]

The rest of the issue sees Jason making sure everyone in his territory is okay, settling scores, and paying up debts, at one point literally sending small sums of cash to various members of his friends/family, culminating in him shedding his armor and physically cleaning his home and giving back a borrowed object as a civilian.

He checks his now incredibly clean apartment and declares his satisfaction [Perfect.] Then we linger on him hesitating for a moment before deciding against calling his landlord.

Then he leaves the apartment, passing by a janitor who he smiles and waves to. [Not here. I can't do that to him. Besides, I've always been partial to Lydia Tomkiw's view of it.] The last part being a reference to this song.

He walks through the streets and down to the water, hiding himself away with his back against a support pillar and the water up to his gut.

He holds a gun up to his temple. [I felt so light and free all day today that it actually surprises me when I feel fear in the end.]

He screws his eyes shut, tears rolling down his cheeks. [I am so, so scared.]

He pulls the trigger and we see the muzzle flash from afar lighting up the sunset and then a panel of the sunset as it tints purple.

ISSUE #2

Jason wakes up in the hospital, having been found by beachgoers at Amusement Mile and rescued. The bullet only grazed his skull and he almost drowned, but all in all it only took pumping the seawater out of him to get him well enough to wake up and walk out.

He goes home, curls up in the shower, and weeps.

This has firmly cemented in his mind a suspicion that he's long held: [Death is a mercy God has forbidden me from receiving.] <- this should be the first actual thought or speech we hear from him this Issue.

He gets dry and dressed and sits down. Several panels of him simply staring at the floor. Then he thinks [Well... guess it's a good thing I didn't cancel my lease after all.] and the bleak humor of how unfairly mundane that is seems to break him out of the paralysis of depression somewhat.

He weakly resolves that he's got to find something to do or be or whatever that will make it worth surviving.

He can't name anything that could possibly do it though. He's not honestly sure he can remember a time in his adult life that he was actually fulfilled or at all happy.

In the meantime though, there's no rest for the wicked. Some how or another he finds out about a secret underground laboratory that's right beneath his feet and has been producing batches of highly rare designer drugs.

He sneaks his way into the laboratory and we end with a panel of his face, he looks awed. [It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen...]

ISSUE #3

Full page dramatic panel as Jason stands before a huge vat filled with a horrific squid-human-crab hybrid. From behind him out of panel comes a speech bubble. "So, Red Hood, what do you make of our latest creation?!"

"It's gorgeous..."

The awe in his voice and the unusual response is enough to break the traditional back and forth that a hero and villain ought to have at this juncture. So, when he turns around and reveals our Villains(?), Monsieur Mallah and The Brain, they don't start fighting.

Instead he gets a tour of the facility as a potential ally - or, well, more like a potential landlord and mafia jackass who's going to demand a cut of the profits from all the drugs they've been making in order to fund this operation.

This also gives us a tour of their goals. "Clones, I'm sure you've noticed, tend to disintegrate very, very quickly. The solution to this is generally to add enormous amounts of non-human DNA, specifically lobsters and octopuses and anything else that demonstrates significant resilience to aging"

The problem is that they can't get anything even remotely human out of the process. Vaguely Bipedal is about the best they've ever managed, and the Brain doesn't want to be stuck as a pile of incoherent stabbing limbs and slimy tentacles. So, the progress of science marches ever onwards, one failed, brainless squid monstrosity at a time.

And they are brainless! No brain or even any spinal chord in their vertebra - they aren't eager to make a bunch of minions that'll inevitably turn on them when they learn they were made purely to have their brains scooped out to house The Brain.

Or, at least they claim that they're brainless and why should anyone be trusting them? In every panel, Jason's thought boxes have been consumed with figuring out ways to take out the lab, the guards, and of course the loving duo of evil themselves.

And when he finally gets to the end of the tour Jason's mind is made up:

It's too dangerous to take them on without good reason. The lab is positioned right underneath an apartment building that houses at least a hundred people and there's no way in hell he can take this place out without it being a blood bath that seriously risked opening up a sink hole right under all those innocent people.

Plus, they just aren't doing anything all that evil! [Who gives a shit if they're doing weird experiments on a bunch of animals? The world does worse things for hamburgers every day.] The audience is meant to be made a little uncomfortable by the fact he cares so little about the animals.

So he gives them his stipulations for safety and selling practices with regards to the drugs and agrees to let them stay in his territory - And silently resolves to follow up on the brainlessness claim to make sure they're on the level with that one. [Zapping animals? Fine. Making an army of disposable quasi-people? Not so fine.]

Jason leaves, trying to think of what to do next to keep the soul crushing depression at bay. He's about to despair that his only options are sleep and throwing himself off of this roof - when suddenly he spots Damian moving into a nearby building.

ISSUE #4

Jason follows Damian and inserts himself into whatever fight Damian gets himself into.

It turns out that Damian has been tracking down an odd case: designer drug manufacturers with a penchant for rare animal smuggling on the side... He's after the lab that Jason has just sanctioned.

Damian confronts Jason about the drugs that are coming from his territory. "And you mean to tell me you are simply okay with this poison spilling out from underneath your own nose?"

"Hey, what do I care if the people of the Diamond District have gotten bored of their usual highs? Besides, it's not coming out of my territory, just moving through it. You'll have better luck trying the other Robin down at the docks - good f%$king luck getting him to cooperate as much as I am by the way."

Damian leaves, hopefully none the wiser for now, and hopefully this will give Jason enough time to figure out a plan.

Because seriously, what is he DOING?!

Jason looks down at his hands, trying to sort out why on earth he'd felt any desire to stick his neck out for them.

His reasons for not taking Mallah and the Brain down immediately fall apart like this. On his own he stands a high chance of making a deadly sinkhole, but a whole team? They could just dedicate one of them to keeping collateral to a minimum, problem solved.

All the same, for reasons he doesn't even understand himself, Jason thinks again of the haunting beauty of the horrific squid beast and he cannot bear the thought of its legacy coming to naught.

We change over to Damian clashing with Tim as he tries to find the information on this case that Tim supposedly has.

They figure out pretty fast that Jason lied to him about it.

This has him... well, Damian would never call it scared, but it provides a distinct sense of concern. He remembers fighting Jason with Dick, the way he ran rings around them, the way things went very, very badly for every other bat who has tried to fight him one on one, and how Jason required basically ALL of them to catch him in Task Force Z - and it turned out that Jason had simply meant to get captured anyways at the end of it.

Together, Tim and Damian decide they need to call in The Big Guns. They each pull out their phones and dial, with the last two panels showing that Tim is calling Cass and Damian is calling Dick.

((Though, Author's Note here: I'm not sure I have enough room in this plot to justify this many characters. I may axe Cass, bc as is she has to get sidelined pretty damn heavily, since this is really about Dick and Jason. I might end up axing Tim too, or maybe instead of her? Could have her fill in his plot beats? Idk, we'll see. Sometimes not including a character at all feels more respectful than shoe horning them in and out of the plot, even though it would logically make sense for them to be involved.))

ISSUE #5

We open into a scene of Jason arguing with Mallah and the Brain, trying to convince them to pack up and move. In turn, they're demanding that he either fuck off or buy them time to make one last attempt. Being captured and being forced to move on both bring them to effectively the same square one and they'd rather fight it out.

Jason snarls. "You two-bit morons already know exactly what's going to happen if you stay! You'll make yet another body that's 90 percent fish, fuck yourselves over with your own damned pickiness, and get your shit kicked in by every damned vigilante in the city!"

"Since you are so concerned with my Husband's so called 'pickiness', then I am sure you won't mind it if we put you into one of these failures and take your body for ourselves!"

The idea shocks Jason and we transition into a flashback via panel edges shaped like shattered glass

[Memories. Not exactly mine - a different Jason, a different reality...]

Various thoughts play out over panels roughly summarizing the tenta-Todd-tacular events of the Nightwing run Brothers in Blood. [Joy.] [Freedom from pain.] [Finally feeling like a part of my body rather than a prisoner inside it.] [Power. Thrilling strength.]

We fade back the present moment as Jason realizes, [I could have it all again...]

"Do it!" Jason thrusts out his exposed wrist. "Take a sample then, see if I'm compatible!"

This again brakes the flow of the normal Villain-Hero dynamic, and Mallah cautiously steps forwards and stabs him with some kind of super science gadget.

He mutters some comic science mumbo jumbo and declares him to be a viable body donor.

The Brain says, "It will take at least 48 hours to build your body. If you cannot keep your associates away from us for that long, we will simply have to go ahead with the surgery - without a destination for your grey matter... Deal?"

"Try to take it without and I'll turn both of you into a fine pink paste spattered across the walls. Deal."

Scene transition into a planning session as Jason assesses the resources and forces available to him for the purpose of misdirecting the bats. He's planning for everyone, even though he knows that most of them have far bigger fish to fry right now.

He briefly gets out into the field and talks to various goons and mooks, setting up his pieces, but it's clear he's planning on fighting many of the Bats himself, one at a time, ideally. He knows he's no match for them all at once, but one on one he's got good odds he can take anyone except Cass and Dick.

Then Jason is called back to the lab for surgical preparations. They're checking his blood pressure, taking a bit of his last minute medical history, determining if he's allergic to any particular kinds of anesthesia, getting told when to start fasting, getting his head shaved, that sort of thing.

We see Jason staring into the main cloning tank. In the dark water within we see the mass of cells that will form his new body. In the dark of Jason's metaphorical mind space we see a soft blue glow in roughly the same shape as the mass of cells.

The Brain joins him. "Horrid, isn't it?"

"I thought we'd been over this already."

"I meant the Hope."

"Oh..."

They briefly discuss the shared pain of brutal failures suffered over and over and over again, of existing in a world that seems bent on nothing but retreading their greatest moments of suffering, always leaving relief just out of reach, and about the simple truth of why they both keep trying:

There's nothing left for them if they ever try to stop.

We end with Jason gearing up to go out and fight, outfitted with some yet-to-be-revealed gadgets from his temporary allies.

ISSUE #6

Most of this issue is dedicated to his fights with the other Bats and their encounters with his schemes.

During these fights, it's very clear to see he's gained back some of his zest for life, flipping and shit talking and joking around in a distinctly Robin way - something that's been absent from his fighting style for years now, and wasn't there in earlier fight scenes in this series either.

He returns to the lab battered, bruised, tired, but victorious and mostly unharmed.

He rests against a wall and listens in on a conversation between Mallah and Brain. They're talking about what they're looking forwards to doing with his body. Drinking tea, feeling the warmth of the sunset, holding each other. It's soft and sweet, and a striking contrast to the way he's always viewed his own body. It leaves Jason more determined than ever that he's doing the right thing.

ISSUE #7

The bats can tell they're being maneuvered, and so switch from trying to directly catch Jason, to trying to catch a mook who knows enough that they can start catching up to Mr. Three Steps Ahead.

Another frustrating as hell fight with Jason later and they manage to catch someone that's actual been inside the lab. However, they don't know much beyond the basics because Mallah, The Brain, and the Red Hood keep speaking French to each other and not many of them understand it - it's a cloning lab, they know the way to get to it, the bosses have changed the plan to stealing the Red Hood's body, and no one seems to know why the Hood isn't fighting them about that.

The Bat group assumes that Jason must have fallen for a trick, that maybe they'd falsified some kind of terminal diagnosis and were offering some kind of false promise of a cure or something. It would go some way towards explaining why a few of his actions lately have seemed an awful lot like tying up loose ends...

Dick isn't so sure, though. Something about it feels off. Even ignoring the fact that Jason's way too clever to get duped like that, would he really go to some random supervillains for a cure instead of just... waiting it out? Or finding a proper blaze of glory? However, without a better idea to propose, he hesitantly goes along with the group's ideas.

Back at the lab, Jason looks at his new body, far more formed now, and listens to the technician walk him through what it's likely to be able to do once fully matured. He gives some last minute input on the ratios of how much species's genetics will be expressed. Lots of silly comic book science about how octopus DNA alone could give him the limited shape shifting abilities he's after, but adding in sea sponge or clam DNA will be necessary if he wants the sort of toxin filtration systems needed to survive living in the Gotham Harbor.

For once, he finds himself truly looking forwards to tomorrow, eager to see what life in the water is like, rather than merely grimly resigned to enduring another day.

[It's almost unbearable. Too soft, too kind. It's all I can do to keep myself from trembling.]

ISSUE #8

We're down to the final hours of the cloning process. The bats have finally managed to side step Jason's schemes and it's down to tunnel warfare down in the storm drains and sewers of the city.

They're having to fight for every damned inch of ground against mooks and dozens of traps clearly designed to disable them, but it's clear to see that it's only a matter of time before they reach the lab proper.

Alarms blare as they breach the doors and Jason stands ready to greet them, loaded for bear with armor and weapons.

Dick tries to get Jason to stop fighting so they can talk, beating around the bush like, "We just want to make sure you know what you're getting into..."

Jason is reasonably responding with different versions of "Fuck off with that patronizing horseshit!"

Tim gets tired of this and yells out, "He is trying to steal your body so he can f@#k a gorilla, goddamn it!"

This successfully shocks Jason to a standstill. Genuinely horrified he says, "Tim! Mallah is a person with a name! That's his husband!"

Then in the next panel Jason continues, while firing his guns at them again, "What they do in the privacy of their bedroom with my body is none of your business!"

Tim, dodging bullets, "What?! You think this is ending in a three-"

"I DEMAND WE CEASE THIS LINE OF QUESTIONING AT ONCE," Damian interjects, while stabbing.

Jason backflips away, cackling - and then the device on his wrist beeps as the countdown displayed on it reaches zero. "Ah well, this was fun folks, but it's time for the finale!"

He bolts as fast as his legs can carry him, heading for the surgical suite with his pursuers nipping his heels. The Brain has already gotten into the machine, and Mallah practically slams him into his end of it.

Jason has one last moment to look longingly towards his new body, the first glimpse we see of it in its completed form, then the anesthesia takes him under.

Mallah punches the lockdown button that will seal this room off from the outside world, but he's too late. Nightwing manages to slide underneath the blast doors at the last possible second

A tense one on one, man versus ape fist fight ensues. Mallah is clearly giving it his all, but in the end, Dick wins. He stabs a tranq into Mallah and is left alone with the controls.

He opens the case protecting the ABORT button.

One panel goes by without his fingers lifting off of the case. Then two. Then three.

He closes it again, walking away and pacing the room. He looks at Jason, floating in his tank, tubes and wires hooked up to him, various horror movie style buzzsaw arms and massive injector needles hovering over him, and starts talking to his sleeping form.

"How could you possibly...? This is- it's repulsive, it's insane, it's..."

He looks down silently for a moment.

Dick walks to the control panel again and begins typing. "I know you. They're wrong. They underestimate you. This has to be what you want for yourself... And you've had too much of that taken from you already..."

The computer speaks as the machine whirs to life, and we get to see the saws baring down on his skull, {PROCEDURE INITIATED - PREPARING DONOR BODY}

Outside we see that this has triggered the last ditch defense mechanisms of the laboratory. The whole place is quickly flooding with seawater. {TRANSFERRING PATIENT TO DONOR - TRANSFERRING DONOR TO SHELL}

The rest of the bats are forced to evacuate while Dick scrambles to get the emergency breathing equipment onto himself and Mallah who is groggily beginning to wake up.

{TRANSFER COMPLETE - WAKING PATIENT AND DONOR}

The last page is absolute chaos as Jason practically explodes out of his tank, laughing and shouting his victory, spiky red rimmed speech bubble and all :3

ISSUES #9 and #10

Everyone scatters -Mallah and the Brain escape onto some kind of helicopter or something, Jason crashes his way into the harbor, and the Bats are left cleaning up the mess.

We focus on Jason learning his new powers, and just enjoying the feeling of swimming and transforming and playing kraken with a boat full of people smuggling guns out of the US.

We get a small aside to show Mallah and the Brain living it up somewhere, maybe Zandia if that's still a thing. Ideally this will include a tasteful fade to black, because, of course, what they do in the privacy of their own bedroom with Jason's the Brain's body is none of our business.

I also want to have a scene where Jason returns to the spot where he committed suicide in the first issue, but I'm not exactly sure how I want to handle it. I want something that both shows that he's happy to be alive, but also that he doesn't regret having made the attempt. I want him to reject the narrative that it was a mistake, instead seeing it as... a vital part of his autonomy I suppose? I have complicated thoughts on it and they aren't quite fully formed yet, but I know I want to have him respect his former self's decision. His decision to become a sea monster is of the same substance after all.

The final scene has Dick taking a boat (Tim's?) out into the water at night and luring Jason up to him. They talk for a little while, about how he's doing, whether or not he can actually participate in life on land anymore (he can), and Jason thanks him with a hug before they part ways again.

Obviously, DC would almost certainly undo both the Brain getting a body, and Jason gaining monster powers :/ Tis tragic, but! The point of this would be to force them to actually put some damned work into it! No last minute return to the status quo, you want that shit back you're gonna have to take a whole ass other story arc to get there >:3

And of course, alas, SOMEDAY I'm going to be able to admit to myself that DC will never ever let me install this shit into their canon and simply draw it as the fan comic it was meant to be lol

Serious question: DC has asked you (yes you 🫵) to write a 10 issue Jason Todd comic run. No conditions or stipulations, any era, any supporting cast, any villain. What do you do?

[artvscvntymullet]

ONE LAST TIME - WILLNE

content warnings : conflict, mention of burnout, argument and alcohol cosumption

word count : 2300 words

A/N : this was in drafts for a long..long time and so i've tried my best to tweak, but it may need to undergo more editing (when i can be bothered) hope you enjoy !

masterlist here !!

You weren’t supposed to be home for another hour.

The hallway was too quiet, but not in the comforting way. There was no music playing, no stream highlights echoing from his office, no Will humming under his breath in the kitchen, just still.

You slip your shoes off. Your keys barely make a sound when they hit the bowl by the door.

Then you hear them, muffled voices — low. Will's voice, thick and hoarse around the edges. ��—I dunno anymore, mate. It’s constant. Feels like I can’t even breathe without screwin’ somethin’ up.”

James answers, quieter, an answer you can’t make out.

You stop at the edge of the living room doorway. Your fingertips graze the frame, your stomach sinking.

Will’s slouched on the couch, hoodie half-off his shoulder, bottle of whisky hanging loose from his hand, the cap abandoned on the coffee table. His cheeks are red - not drunk, not yet, but flushed in that way he gets when he's trying not to cry.

James sits perched on the edge of the chair across from him, he's sober, still.

You speak before you think. “Wow.”

Will flinches and the bottle tips slightly, but he catches it clumsily before it spills.

James jolts upright. “Shit Y/N I didn’t know you were—”

“Do you mind, James?” you cut in, not looking at him. “This isn’t on you.”

James grabs his jacket without a word and you hear the door shut behind him. It clicks like punctuation.

Will stands slowly, stiff as if he’s been there for hours. “I didn’t mean for you to see it like this.”

You blink. “Like what? You talking shit about me to James? Or you drinking your way out of another bad week?”

He winces, “That’s not fair.”

“No?” You take a step into the room. “I heard you. You said I’m always there, like I'm some kind of - I don't know? An obligation, or dare I say it, a burden? Do you even begin to understand how that makes me feel Will?.”

His jaw clenches. He doesn’t say anything. His thumb brushes along the label on the bottle, like he’s trying to peel it off.

“I’ve been walking on eggshells around you for months, Will. I let the moods slide and the silent days and the convenient excuses. Because I knew you were tired, and I understood work has been brutal but I begged you to take a break. I thought, fucking hell, I actually thought you’d come back to me when you caught your breath.”

He looks up at you for the first time, and he really looks, like your voice just reached him for the first time. His eyes are glassy, the bags under them are deep.

“You think I don’t see how hard you’ve been trying to hold it together?” Your voice shakes now, heat rising in your chest. “I see it, I’ve always seen it. But somewhere in all that holding on, you let me go, you've let us go.”

He moves forward, slow and unsure, bottle still clutched like a shield. “It’s not like that.”

“Then tell me how it is, Will. Tell me why the second you hit your breaking point, you turned to James and a bottle instead of coming to me.”

His grip tightens around the glass.

“I needed to switch off,” he says, voice low, accent thicker from exhaustion. “Just for one night. Just to feel like I wasn’t bein’ judged.”

You inhale sharply. “You think I judge you?”

“No - fuck, no, not like that.” He rakes both hands through his dark mullet, bottle clinking against the table as he sets it down. “It’s just, when I’m around you, I don’t wanna be a mess. You’re the only good thing I’ve got. I'm scared that if you see me like this, you’ll leave.”

Your chest caves in and you fold your arms tight across it, just to keep from shaking.

“I saw you like this, and I stayed. Over and over, Will, but you never let yourself open up, despite my efforts, and you know I would've helped you, and listened to you. You know I'd do anything for you.”

He turns his back to you, and runs a hand down his face, sobering up. “I know.”

“You said I don’t understand.” Your voice is quieter now. “But I do. I understand more than you think. I’ve been loving a version of you who never has time, who is now a hollow man who can’t meet my eyes. Who needs me, but never wants me.”

His face twists like it physically hurts to hear you.

You don’t stop, you can't stop. Every bit of upset, and disappointment, and longing is rearing it's ugly head and you cannot stop, the feelings have been supressed for too long. “I sit next to you on the couch and feel alone. I lie in bed beside you and feel cold. I kiss you and wonder if it’s just muscle memory now.”

Will takes a shaky breath. “Don’t say that.”

Tears burn your eyes, unrelenting. “Why not? It’s true, isn’t it?”

His fists curl at his sides. “Because I never wanted to make you feel like that. Because I still love you, even if I’m shit at showing it.”

“But love isn’t supposed to hurt like this, Will.”

He steps toward you, close now - closer than he’s been in weeks. His hand hovers like he wants to reach for your cheek but doesn’t dare. “Please don’t give up on me, I need you.”

You breathe in. It catches halfway down your lungs.

“I've put my all in and only received 50%, I love you but we can't go on like this,” you whisper. “I just didn’t want to admit it.”

The silence between you is unbearable. His chest rises and falls too fast, while your fingers twitch at your sides, desperate to touch something — him, the couch, the air, anything to anchor you.

His voice cracks. “Just one more kiss. Please. Just if this is it.”

You nod once and he kisses you like he’s trying to memorise it - like maybe if he presses hard enough, you’ll stay. His hands slide into your hair, gentle and frantic. Your fingers fist in his hoodie, he tastes of whisky and grief.

When you pull away, his forehead rests against yours. “Don’t go,” he whispers, his eyes filled with tears, threatening to spill

You press your lips to his one last time, soft and final.

Then you step back, grab your bag and open the door - tears bubbling over and falling down your cheek.

And you leave, you don't slam the door - you don’t need to.

Door clicks shut, quiet follows like a ghost.

She didn’t slam it. Thought she might, thought she should’ve. Who knows? It might’ve made this easier if there’d been shouting, or thrown keys, or something. But nothing apart from that soft, final click.

That’s worse, that means it’s real.

Will stands in the middle of the room, hoodie half-off, hair a mess from pulling at it. He looks around like maybe she’s still here, like maybe this was some dream, but the apartment’s empty.

It still smells of her favourite perfume, still has her hoodie hanging off the back of the dining chair.

He almost says her name, just to break the silence. Instead, he slumps down, hard, on the edge of the sofa like someone’s knocked the wind out of him. Hands on his knees, breathing like it hurts - and it does.

The bottle’s still on the table. He pushes it away with the back of his hand, he doesn’t want it now, he never really did.

What a way to end it, hey? One night, one bottle, one shitty, pressure-choked spiral, and he couldn’t even keep it between the two of them. He had to run his mouth like she wasn’t everything he’d ever wanted.

She walked in and looked at him like he was a stranger. He didn’t recognise himself either.

She stood there with her voice breaking and her arms crossed like if she didn’t hold herself together, she’d shatter. Told him she felt alone, unwanted. Every word hit like a punch to the ribs because she was right.

He'd been spiralling for months. Tired, worn, snapping under lights and cameras and fake laughs.

But she’d never once asked him to perform, at least not with her. She never asked him to be anything but present. And still — he shut her out.

Not because he didn’t love her. Because he did, so much it was now suffocating him. Because when he looked at her, he saw something good, something whole, and he didn’t know how to hold it without fucking it up.

So he avoided it and buried it, pretended he had time to fix it later.

Later came and she was gone.

Will scrubs his hands over his face. His palms are shaking. He lets out a breath that turns into something cracked and sharp. Sits back, stares at the ceiling.

She kissed him like she already knew it was goodbye, while he kissed her like maybe he could make her stay. How could he be so blind to the feelings of the only woman he's ever loved? How could he have missed so many signs? He didn't. They were just easier to ignore.

His throat tightens. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and lets his head drop into his hands. Fingers press into his scalp like pressure might undo regret - like maybe if he pushes hard enough, he’ll stop replaying her voice over and over.

“I gave you everything.”

He doesn’t cry. Not right away, he sits there, still, stiff, silent. Then his shoulders start to shake, and it all crashes in.

[gludgenbell]

I keep embarrassing myself on bsky so to cope let me tell you tumblr about a vauge svsss au idea I had buckle in for a semi-long one

something something, shen yuan transmigrates into the emperor's son - how did the son die? the palace staff says it was a bad qi deviation after...what happened...

anyway, sy also doesn't have parents and finds out this is somewhat related to...what happened...

So here is the lonely human emperor with no one but his palace staff to keep him company (they never let him leave - in fact, he's fairly certain they're in some massive ass cave?? hello??) Whether or not sy realizes he's in pidw is debatable and I'll let the class decide that

anyway; he's been sending scouts to the outside world and they've come back like. A handful of times

this emperor just wants to know what's out there! He's been here for 20-something years and no one will let him see even a blade of grass that isn't indoors. Let him see the sun!

He has tried to sneak out, of course, but the security here is quite top notch! unless you're, of course, Luo binghe, which leads me to the reason for the bingyuan tag

sy sends out another troop of scouts - a young woman with high cultivation who volunteered for the job, and two wife-beamed soldiers to protect her

sy's birthday rolls around and while everyone wants to celebrate with some grand thing, he really isn't feeling it - but he never is (his nursemaids-

[an amah? I'm reading an article and would like to know more if anyone has more knowledge]

- will mournfully reflect on how xiao shen loved birthday parties so much before...what happened..)

Anyway, Supreme birthday gift! His scouts return! The young woman is hanging off the arm of 1 (one) soldier and Shen Yuan goes ah, of course they fell in love 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ he's quite a handsome fellow! But where's the other guy?

The returned scout approaches and declares he has a message for junshang! He's glad to have finally found him after years of search, this hide and seek game could only last so long

...what do you mean years? Anyway you know who it is, the one and only Luo Binghe, and he reveals himself (in my head the skin unfolds/is ripped off him by himself of course, but maybe you're thinking of something else) and the palace staff and guards are in a frenzy trying to protect shen yuan who sits on his throne in confusion

something something, we incapacitate all of them (demonic qi flaring? surging? it keeps everyone pinned and in horror because they think theyre gonna witness luo binghe kill their xiao shen), and Luo Binghe strides up to the throne, ready to kill the last of the shens

(Is sj related to sy? debatable, I like to think binghe was just on a shen killing spree. You are shen? you will die.) (Whether or not he'd truly do this is debatable, but suspend your disbelief for a minute)

Then this happens:

I didn't proofread or edit it I'm just going after visuals, moving on,

Luo Binghe wants to hear Shen Yuan plead for mercy. And Shen Yuan isn't one to beg so he tries to accept his oncoming doom with as much dignity as possible for a man who's nipples are out and on display

I actually don't know what happens here, class can decide, in my draft Luo Binghe has a reasonable crash out (read: temper tantrum) and destroys the roof of the palace (causes a cave in) and Shen Yuan, who quite likes his palace staff as they're his only friends and family here (I think he knows all their names but I didn't wanna make any) finally reacts to this and tries to stop him

Caught offguard by sy grabbing his robes and pulling (younger sibling style), lbh and sy are both sent falling back, knocking the throne to the floor and shattering it (I liked to think the back was encrusted with jewels and glass)

aaaand that's all I got^^ class can decide what happens after this thank you

[sapnapstummy]

short little dsmp thought from my drafts (tw for referenced torture)

c!sam left the server at some point early on. he'd seen alyssa and callahan leave and after continuing to get his stuff stolen and dragged into drama, he leaves too. but he leaves behind his latest robot, one nearly indistinguishable from himself. he makes sure it's moral and always does what's right. and it reports back to him every week.

the server operates in the back of his mind now, something about another war, betrayals and secret alliances. he doesn't pay much attention, working on his own side projects. then the robot asks him permission for something... "should i let harm come to the monster"

it's not super coherent, and upon further notice the backlog of reports is looking sparse. sam figures it needs some maintenance and is malfunctioning. he assumes the question was about mobs and the morality of killing them. so he sends back a "protect the people around you. if that means harm to monsters, then that's okay." the robot goes quiet after that, no real reports. just: "all is right." every so often.

the robot has slipped his mind when he runs into quackity on the mcc server months later. he's greeted with an overly familiar smile that sets off alarm bells.

"didn't expect you to be taking a day off, warden." quackitys eye twitches.

sam shrugs, "can only work on the same project for so long before it gets boring."

quackity bristles, "i'm making more progress than you did. i have dream begging and pleading with me, all you did was let him sit around. when i get the revive book it'll be off my work."

sam has no idea what any of that means. so he asks about the only thing he does recognize. "how is dream?"

quackity scoffs, "stubborn and annoying as ever." normally sam would laugh and agree, but the way quackity says it sets his mind on edge. "i'm sure you saw him how i left him today. i wonder how long it took him to finally die and respawn."

"what did you do?" sam asks, trying to push down the horrifying sense that quackity isn't playing around.

"hacked through his leg with an old pair of shears. quackity grins, snapping his suspenders with a satisfied look in his eyes.

sam holds back bike, quickly he pulls up the logs. the robot doesn't mention anything about quackity or dream. the last thing he got was the odd question. the growing dread burst into full terror. "i have to go." he tells quackity, running off to the server portal without hearing his goodbye.

the first thing he notices when he gets back on the server is that the air stinks. it's stagnant and thick with the smell of gunpowder. urgently he pulls up the robots tracker, rushing toward it quickly. he's so focused on his compass, he doesn't notice the building until he's nearly on top of it.

a massive rectangular box of obsidian blocks the horizon. the tracker says the robot's inside and he has to push down dread as he enters. his robot greets him immediately, "the prisoner is not taking visitors at the moment."

"what have you been doing?" sam asks, walking around the desk.

"i've been doing what is right and necessary." the robot answers methodically.

sam's fists clench at his side, "override any commands you have and take me to the prisoner."

the robot hesitates for a moment, but follows his orders obediently. it leads him through tight twisting tunnels deeper and deeper into the obsidian. sam waits with baited breath as the wall of lava drops slowly. the sight that meets him has him doubling over spitting up bile.

red-brown covers the walls and floor. and the air is so thick and hot and rot-scented he can hardly catch his breath. dream is almost unrecognizable, a bony bleeding body trembling in the corner. his mask is missing and his golden curls lay in thick dark mats over his face.

"dream," he whispers horrified.

a raspy whisper barely makes it to his ears, "please sam. please don't let him come back, i'll do anything. please."

sam reaches for him, recoiling as dream flinches away. "i'm getting you out of here."

dream shakes his head weakly. his body weights almost nothing as sam pulls him into his arms. dreams breathing goes ragged and panicked, clawing at sam's chest. "i've got you," sam promises, "we're getting away from here."

"i'll never give you the book," dream sneers.

sam shakes his head and holds dream closer.

[futuristicanoe]

then off we went...

[magpie-sherlock]

Prompt:

Movement is life.

Warriors had been told this for years. It applied to strategy in hand-to hand combat. If someone takes you down, get out from under them. Every moment counts. Never stop moving.

He tells this to Wind now as they spar. He had gotten a takedown on the boy and was now showing him how to escape. Being on the ground is never safe in a fight. Too vulnerable.

"Dinner!" Four cries from the edge of their little clearing. Wars gets off of Wind and holds out a hand. Wind takes the hand, muttering something about the unfairness of their height differences.

They walk over to where Wild has dinner set up. They get their bowls and sit on one of the logs. Wars looks around; everyone's accounted for. Wild especially catches his eye. Wild is always moving. Cracking his knuckles, bouncing his leg, picking at scabs; Wars has never seen him sit still for more than ten seconds.

Since they had arrived in Wild's Hyrule a few days ago, he had been moving even more. Wars didn't blame him. Movement is life, after all. Wild's had to try hard to stay alive here.

[silvermarig0lds]

messed around with some colour grading

[ddollfface]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐀 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚; 𝐈𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝗕𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗬𝘂𝗷𝗶𝗿𝗼 𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗺𝗮'𝘀 𝗗𝗮𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘁.

Throughout your whole life, you've always felt a sort of presence loom over you. Whether it's protecting you or not, you have no clue, but it's always been there. Somewhat like a mole on the bottom of your foot or that itch in the back of your brain when something is wrong. It's always there, but there's nothing you can do about it. Well, without drastic measures.

You're not sure if it's human or not, but you're assuming so, though the thought is alarming. It's the only reasonable option. I mean, there's no such thing as demons or ghosts, right? So that just leaves the only option, that it's some type of person, some being, possibly a government. Of course, you'd prefer that it'd be some paranoid thought you've conjured in your unconscious, but you're sure that's not the case. How can that be the case when money appears at your, albeit unkept, doorstep? Or how you can sense the eyes on you while you training? And worst of all, how you can just feel the disappointed stare when you're on a date with some random classmate? The pure annoyance in the stare convinces you that this thing is real, that it isn't a figment of your imagination.

And it makes you wonder why. Why do you feel this presence? Well, you're sure that it could be linked to the fact that you're not... normal. There's always been something different about you; you've known this since the day your mama left you. That fearful look in her eyes when she says you smash a plate, just for holding it a little too tight. You thumb and pointer squeezing too much. It was as if she'd been taken back to a memory you weren't aware of, and you still aren't today.

Even at the age of seventeen, you still aren't aware of why your mama left in such haste, leaving everything she owned, only having the clothes on her back and her wallet. It puzzled you, though you were only twelve years old. You knew it was something you'd done; you caused your mama to leave. It was your fault, something you did.

And that's when it started, the presence, I mean. It's always been there, but you started noticing it far more frequently after your mama left. Before, it'd only appear once or twice a year, but now it was every month, maybe more.

For some reason, unknown to you, your mama leaving caused something to change. Something in you changed. It was as if a switch had been flipped inside you, both physically and mentally. You began to assess everything you'd do, trying to comprehend what you could've done to cause your mama to do such a thing, to leave her only daughter, her only child.

Was breaking a plate really that otherwordly to your mama? Sure, you'd only been twelve, but you were sure that girls your age had done the same?

Well, the more you thought of it, the more odd your strength was. You'd always been... stronger than most girls. That was undeniable. Both you and your mother knew of this. It was something in the back of your mind, something you had to be aware of.

You were different. You had to be more careful when you played. You couldn't go overboard, get too excited, and the next thing you knew a girl had a broken arm. The strength you possessed scared you; you didn't want to hurt people.

And with your strength came blood, so much blood, so much pain. Pain that you had caused. You really didn't mean it; you just wanted to play with all the other girls, but you had done it now. Your grip was too tight. You had pushed her too hard. It was your fault, and now she was bleeding. Oh, oh, oh, she was bleeding, a lot.

God, how you hate the smell of blood. The look of it, the feel of it, all of it; it made your head go fuzzy and your heart pound in your chest, but not in a bad way. Not in the way of when you fall off the monkey bars or when your mama catches you with your hand in the cookie jar. It's in the way of when the boy you like looks at you or when you've just finished playing a good game of ball. It's exhilarating, exciting even. You anticipate the feeling of blood between your fingers, rolling down your palm, and staining the sleeves of your uniform.

And that's what made you realize you were different. You didn't feel like other people, other girls, other kids. You were different, on a fundamental level. Even in the basics, how you felt was different. Was different even the right word? You're not too sure, but it scared you.

All these things you were feeling scared you. You didn't want to get pleasure from hurting others! It isn't right, you need help, you concluded. And that's when you realize that your mama ran away because of this, the feelings you get. Your own mama was scared of you. That's why she left you; you now understood.

You came to this understanding a few years ago, around three years, when you were fourteen. It was hard to accept, but you learned and evolved to comprehend your mama's actions. Instead of hating her for it, you sympathized with her. You understood. You would've done the same if you'd seen your darling daughter grow into this violent way of thought throughout the years.

That doesn't take away from the fact that you missed her; you missed your mama dearly. She was oh so kind to you. You miss her voice, her touch, and her cooking. Your mama was a good cook, far better than you've ever been. At least she left her cooking recipes, right?

Now, you are left alone.

Well, not completely alone. You have the ominous presence, you suppose. At least, you're not completely alone. If anything, the presence brings you back, sometimes, but not in a warm way. You can always sense when it's near. Your hair begins to stand, both on your head and on your neck.

Whenever it comes around, you can feel your muscles tense, your hair begins to float, and it's as if you're being reunited with something. With what? You don't know. There's a lot you don't know. You certainly don't know why you're connected to this presence in this way, but you do know how and what you're feeling. It makes you feel weak, like a bug.

You don't like feeling weak; you don't like how this presence makes you feel. You decided that over a year ago. That's when you began to train, wanting to become stronger, which was far easier than you thought.

You'd train day and night, trying to become stronger, better, faster. You wanted to rid yourself of this weak feeling, this feeling of submission you felt whenever you were around this presence. You wanted to harness this natural strength you were born with, this gift you were born with.

You wanted to find this presence and beat it into a bloody pulp for making you feel this way, for making your mama leave you. You didn't know how, but you knew they were connected. You knew that this presence was the cause of your strength, and you sought it out. You were going to find it and beat it, though it only watched from a distance, never getting too close.

This presence had been with you for years. You were sure that you'd be able to find it and beat it.

You'll make sure of it.

[mooseonahunt]

Based on this text post.

[beedlemania]

Davy Jones tboy swag complication

[kaitcreates]

Average game night at the London Institute.

[commonmexicanname]

Listen, I like the "time is being screwed with" theory (thank you @noneorother), but this gave me a thought...

What if it's not the Metatron messing with the timeline, but instead it's Crowley? We know he can control time. What if they lost to hell already and Crowley was so upset he rewound time to try again, but somehow forgot in the process and this was a whisper of a memory?

[lilworms]

when i texted him “barking” and his coworker got mad jealous and said “your dog wants your attention” trying to be bitchy. top 10

[kusukixcrystal]

MM Classpecting: Saeran Part 2

Zen Classpect

Yoosung Classpect

Jaehee Classpect

Jumin Classpect

707 Classpect

V Classpect

Saeran Classpect Part 1

This is part 2 of my Saeran classpecting post. In the first part is the Page of Heart interpretation, which I don't believe is his actual classpect. Now, I will cover what I think suits his character considering the events of the main story (Deep Story, 707 route and Secret Endings)

Classpect Interpretation 2:

Classpect - Muse of Rage (+): One who commands Rage, or commands through Rage, for others.

How this applies Saeran: Holy. Shit. Where do I even start? The world is out for Saeran: his father is trying to kill him and his mother abused him. Rika then indoctrinated him into a fucking cult. Saeran blames his own weak constitution for why his brother left him. In Mint Eye he accepts that the world is a cruel place, and dwells in self-deprecation, hatred and negativity.

In Another Story we see what would happen if Saeran breaks out of this cycle of self-deprecation, gaining strength in order to protect MC and his brother. In order to mature, in both Another Story and the Secret Endings Saeran must learn to trust Saeyoung and the RFA in order to escape Mint Eye and lead a better life. At his worst as Unknown he is pessimistic, isolates himself and suppresses any emotions that would deem him ‘weak’. Saeran in his After Story works with Jumin and Jaehee to stop his father, using his hacker skills. He has the ability to exert force on his environment when provided backing from people he cares about. We see the world tug him in every which way; V trying to show Saeran positive sides to the world with gardening and photography. Rika with Mint Eye. Another Story makes this more explicit, with the divide between Ray and Saeran. At that point he was still not Unknown yet, still malleable with Rika and V trying to shape him.

Unknown Commands over many people in Mint Eye and is in a high position. He orchestrates getting MC into the RFA and yadda yadda. 

We have to talk about why I think he is a Muse in the context of the main story. In Homestuck, Muse/Lord are considered to be Master Classes. They are classes given to only 2 characters in the entire comic: Calliope and Caliborn respectively. We see that with these classes these two play the role of influencing the other characters to act. They are given to people who influence the events of the entire story to a great degree. As one of Mystic Messenger's main antagonists, Saeran's role can not be understated. His actions literally lead to all the stories/routes happening. He is the one to lead MC to Rika's apartment. He is the one to hack the RFA chatroom and put everyone on high alert. He is the one to break into Rika's apartment and threatens to blow it up with the bomb. He is a Conductor, Commanding the RFA to act through using his Aspect... Speaking of his Aspect, let's discuss that.

This is what the Extended Hiveswap Zodiac has to say about the Rage Aspect:

“Those bound to the aspect of Rage are bringers of chaos. They possess great contempt for lies or false ideas, including the stability that false ideas can impart. To them, the true is far more important than the good; they would tear down a system just to destabilize it if, by their reckoning, it is built on faulty premises. Often the Rage-bound prefer anarchy to any of the alternate forms of civilization, which they believe to be riddled with lies and foolishness and obedient masses. They are bringers of confusion and doubt, and they can be frustratingly difficult to convince otherwise when they have attached themselves to an idea. If they sound dangerous, they are. The Rage-bound tend to be most volatile and unpredictable of the aspects. At their best they are original, revolutionary, and fearless. At their worst they are cruel, uncompromising, and vicious.”

How this applies to Saeran:

As previously stated, as a Muse of Rage Saeran Commands with Rage, utilizing his Aspect, his Rage, against the RFA to sew chaos and disorder within the narrative. Destroying the RFA's once peaceful lives.

He does this because he believes in Mint Eye's ideology, that outside institutions are feeding everyone lies and that they are a paradise in this world. He believed Rika, thinking that Saeyoung lied about saving him. These 'lies' and 'false ideas' from both his brother and society makes Saeran very angry, using it to destabilize the RFA. This brings doubt to the members of the RFA, where once everyone (excluding Yoosung) believed in V wholeheartedly, began to doubt him when they learn that there is a bomb in Rika's apartment and his constant absence.

When a Muse Commands with their Aspect, they are shaped by it too. His Aspect of Rage shapes him into Unknown, blinded by betrayal and Rage against Saeyoung, turning him into a violent bundle of anger and sorrow. He embodies the forces of his Aspect through violence and utilizing the bomb in Rika’s apartment and the gun he uses to shoot V. He also presumably tortures Yoosung with stuff as well (Yoosung Bad Ending 3). Unknown’s presence haunts the RFA in the game, the hacker threat a prominent story thread hanging over them. This influences the RFA to be careful and take precautions. The martyrdom part applies more to After Story Saeran, who sacrifices himself by directly confronting his father for his brother.

In Saeyoung's route, when he confronts Saeran in Rika's apartment and even at Mint Eye, he has difficulty getting his brother to believe that he thought he was living a good life. Saeran's belief can not be swayed easily, a prominent trait seen in the Rage-bound.

Saeran is unpredictable and volatile, seen in all Casual and Deep Stories in this game. He can strike a hacker attack at any time. In bad endings he appears almost randomly, catching the characters off guard.

In the beginning of his route, he uses his Rage to hurt and Command the MC, having control over her. It is only after the route progresses and MC gets through to him, somehow managing to persuade him away from his false ideals, that Saeran redirects his Rage in a different direction: towards Rika and his father.

Just to clarify, the reason I bring up Another Story so much in this analysis when I said I’d only focus on the main story in previous posts is because we just never had the opportunity to see much of Saeran in the og game. These traits of his character do apply to who he is as a person, its just that we only get to see it in Another Story more. Its the same thing as looking at other character routes to build a characterization of the other RFA members. His main role in the narrative still takes precedent and it all still fits well with Unknown/Saeran.

Now that we discussed his Class and Aspect separately, let's summarize. A Muse of Rage would be one who Commands Rage for Others. A Muse could be subjected to anger and violence themselves (his abuse and neglect), he later goes on to have Command over Rage and violence himself as Unknown. He inspires Rage within others (The RFA), and Commands them through Rage and have them pit against each other. In Saeyoung’s route Yoosung voices his grievances about V after the bomb was revealved. Saeyoung begins to doubt too, and is frustrated that V is hiding information from him, losing all trust and incensed after seeing Saeran. Even Jumin begins to confront V about his absence and behavior. By doing all of this, the narrative progresses forward, Saeyoung and MC finally deciding to go to Mint Eye, where all truths are revealed.

[cinammonelles]

Diomedes: Talk about your wife

Odysseus: *talks about his wife*

Diomedes: GOD CAN YOU STOP TALKING ABOUT YOUR WIFE FOR 5 FUCKING SECONDS???!?!?

[skillzissue]

TW//IMPLIED SIBLING DEATH

(Take care of yourselves okay!!! Forehead kithes <3)

…

Love you guys MUAH <333 (skips away as if I didn’t just post soul crushing angst)