#who stole from who? unclear.

[mo-ok]

antag sibling trio <3 <3

2025 the year of you WILL look at my ocs

[beansprean]

WHAT WE CLUE IN THE SHADOWS: A FINALE CONSPIRACY BOARD

So. WWDITS may have the actual balls to do this to us. and I for one am INCREDIBLY excited for the possibility. If you're a WWDITS fan and haven't seen Clue (1985), I highly recommend taking 95 minutes to do so before the finale. Just in case.

Clue is my favorite movie, I have probably seen it upwards of 100 times for real, and I can recite it from memory with 90% accuracy. I also have the pleasure of owning and playing the WWDITS-themed Clue game, which is centered around finding out who stole the witch's skin hat and where in the house they hid it. I don't know if that will play into the finale at all, but it's something to think about.

The thing about Clue (the film), if you aren't aware, is that there are three different endings. On the vhs/dvd, you see all three in a row between 'that's how it could have happened, but what about this?' title cards. In theaters, there were three versions of the movie (labeled A, B, and C) that were dispersed to different theaters, so depending on where and when you went to see it you would see one of 3 endings. (It's kinda unclear which letter corresponded to which originally, so my labels will be assuming a 1:1 comparison between the order of the home version of Clue and the airing order of the WWDITS episodes.) The Clue endings are not all made equal, and on the home version, the final ending is announced as 'what really happened.'

So allow me to take a moment to talk about how the different endings work in context to each other and the film, and how that could translate to three different endings for WWDITS.

CLUE SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT (for real, go watch it)

(last chance to watch Clue go)

Ending#1: "Communism is just a red herring"

In this ending, the first one that plays in the home version, Miss Scarlet is revealed to be the murderer. She is a snarky, sarcastic madam who runs a "hotel and telephone service to provide men with the company of a young lady for a short while" and has policemen on her payroll. This is what I would consider the expected ending, the one that makes sense for most viewers. It's not shocking, but it's funny and well acted and it makes the most sense. Miss Scarlet has the right personality for murder, was in the most convenient area of the house to commit them, and had Yvette (the maid, formerly one of Miss Scarlet's call girls) committing some of the murders at her direction, so she had enough alibis to not make her too obvious. Many people watching this movie for the first time will have her high on their suspect list.

This ending also dismisses the idea of 'dangerous communism' that had been a thread throughout the film (as it is set in 1953 during the second Red Scare) as a misdirection. Miss Scarlet isn't stealing government secrets to betray the US; she's doing it to make money. The real danger all along was capitalism, something that s6 of WWDITS has said repeatedly.

So, to recap, this is the Standard Ending. The Second Best ending. Version B.

Ending #2: "Mrs. Peacock did it all."

This one, played second in the home version, is in my opinion the weakest ending. It reveals Mrs. Peacock, the neurotic, hysterical, and allegedly politically corrupt wife of a senator, as the murderer. She's hilarious and fantastic to watch throughout the whole film and I love her, but this charm drops after the reveal and she becomes cold and drab as she threatens her way to safety. She committed all the murders herself, which would be very difficult to achieve with the tight timing and her position in the basement during the search.

She ends up being caught outside the house by a police inspector, who had earlier shown up disguised as an evangelist telling her to "repent, the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Interestingly, they originally filmed him immediately shooting her dead without provocation, but they thought that was too dark and edited it into an arrest instead (which is why there is such a quick cut after he pulls his gun, and we only hear her rather than see her after that). This is the 'repent for your sins' ending. You do bad things, bad things happen to you.

The obligatory "it's always who you least expect" ending. The Still-Good-But-Not-The-Best Ending. Version C.

Ending #3: "You're Mr. Boddy!"

This is "how it really happened" - the twist ending! The hero was the villain, the villain was just a pawn, and everyone committed a murder in the house to cover their own asses. Prof Plum killed the fake Mr. Boddy, Miss Scarlet killed the cop, Mrs. Peacock killed Mrs. Ho (the cook), Mrs. White killed Yvette, Colonel Mustard killed the motorist, and Wadsworth/Mr. Boddy killed the singing telegram girl.

Mr. Green, who reveals he works for the FBI, kills Wadsworth/Mr. Boddy and arrests the rest of the cast. Understandably the best and most exciting ending (though not without some plot holes) that everyone loves. We get a surprising reveal from two of our main characters that not only changes the context with how you view them, but informs aspects of their character that have been there throughout the film! Now we understand why Wadsworth retained control of the house and the timeline of events, why he was so familiar with the house, and why this entire thing was orchestrated in the first place. We also understand why the cowardly and clumsy Mr. Green was consistently the first to jump to help and defend the other characters, even when it meant putting himself if physical danger. Unfortunately this ending also suggests that he was only pretending to be gay (wouldn't that be a twist for Guillermo lol), but he could also just be in a lavender marriage which is what I choose to believe.

This ending also has the iconic 'flames on the side of my face' scene and repeats 'communism is a red herring', this time in the context of Mr. Boddy's intention to continue blackmailing them all now that they have taken care of anyone who could have pointed the finger at him.

This is the True Ending. The twist you didn't expect but are delighted to find. The 'nothing was as it seemed' endng. The ending that is the most intentional and complete, where everyone gets to shine. Version A.

So what will we be doing in those shadows?

We can assume that e11 will not revolve around finding a murderer, but it does, from what we've seen in the trailer, revolve around making a wife for the monster. Do we get three different wives? Three different actors to play her? Three different superhero identities for Nandor and Guillermo? Three different levels of nandermo: one with a handshake, one with a hug, one with a kiss? Three different explanations for the origin and/or purpose of the documentary? (this is my personal favorite) Or is each ending entirely divorced from the other? Only time will tell.

What I'm leaning toward is that each episode will come up to the same turning point - a decision, a reveal, etc. The first two versions will have reasonable possibilities, the first less surprising but more enjoyable than the second, and the third... The third will be what really happened, and pull a twist no one saw coming. Perhaps even a character will reveal a hidden identity. Maybe, just maybe...we get Simon the Devious.

I only hope the order of the episodes doesn't change between channels or time zones because that will make things very confusing when liveblogging it in the group chat lmao.

[haveihitanerve]

Bruce makes it in time to get to Jason. But… is it enough to save him?

“Master Bruce-“ “I’m almost there Alfred.” Bruce bites back, almost breaking his wrist by how hard he twists the motorcycle accelerator. And he is. He can see the warehouse. Bruce lands, not even bothering to slow, leaping off the bike as it crashes into the trees and he sprints for the doors, terrified he’ll make it too late, that he won’t be fast enough for his son. The door slams open, Bruce not even bothering to check if it’s locked or not, just plowing it down, and hurries inside, spotting his son within a moment. Jason opens his eyes in surprise, mouth curving to form a perfect O. “Br- Batman.” He whispers, voice hoarse with disbelief. Bruce rushes to his side, cupping his cheek, cradling the boy- his boy, to his chest. “Jay. Jay bird. Jaylad. Hey firecracker. Hey bud.” Jason’s eyes fill with tears and Bruce does his best to wipe them away, to press a kiss to his son's forehead. “You came.” Jason whispers, tears clogging his throat. “Of course baby.” Bruce murmurs, rocking back and forth. “Of course I came, baby. I will always come for you. Always.” He presses another kiss to Jason’s head. “I love you son. I love you, I love you, I love you.” “I love you too-“ Jason rasps, but his eyes catch something on the wall behind him. “Dad, wait- the bomb-“ the explosion shakes the very earth, and Gotham seems to curl in on herself, screaming with a pain and rage that is unimaginable. In a basement cave in the middle of Gotham, a butler's hands go cold. A man, wearing a blue mask a city over, suddenly feels a chill sweep over him, and something inside him, probably his heart, feels like it’s been torn in two.

Their bodies are found, or at least what’s left of them, two days later, the larger man wrapped almost completely around the smaller, cradling his boy to his chest. Nightwing almost beats Joker to death and is only stopped by three others, all of which seem just as inclined to kill him, but resist. Gotham mourns, earthquakes shaking the ground, warehouses crumbling to dust, and Joker is found drowned in the harbor, the fishes whisper of a presence so old and strong even the biggest fish feared her, and Aquaman shudders. Gothamites mourn their fallen Prince and his adopted son, but Gotham mourns her prodigal sons, her children, her oldest and youngest, and cradles the last survivor to her chest, cloaking him in shadows and gifting him all the things she did not give the others, the things she thought they wouldn’t need so long as they had each other, the things she had not yet granted them ready for. She drapes them over the young, jaded hero, gifting him sight and smell and sound, allowing him to control her shadows and her streets and most of all… gifting him flight, the way his namesake first claimed, the way her firstborn child and her youngest were never able to. The Vulture takes to the Gotham skyline like a moth to open flames, perhaps a little less withdrawn with his punches, perhaps a little more protective of young boys, but belonging to Gotham all the same. The Joker stole something from her, and she will never allow it to happen again. The Vulture gains followers, friends, the Starling, the Goldfinch, the Owl, the Crow, the Cardinal, and Robin, all under Gothams protection, and she has him watch, from his watery prison, as they protect her, defend their city from the ilk like him, not giving in to their rage and revenge, but helping, rebuilding Gotham in his image. Their image. The man who saw hope, and his son. Batman and Robin.

(In case it was unclear, the three people pulling dick away from Joker are Babs, Kate and Luke, and then the Vulture is dick, and his friends, in order as listed, are Stephanie, Duke, Babs, Cass, Tim, and Damian. Also Gotham does kill Joker because she knows dick cannot but she also keeps him half alive, suspended in time, destined to drown for all eternity and watch as the bats succeed in honor of Batman the man he fought against.)

[avayarising]

Deaths of Dick Grayson

Part of the Batfam Death Project.

Dick has died four times and travelled to a world of the dead twice. Total time dead: up to several weeks.

Verifiable deaths

1. Killed by the Joker (Emperor Joker, 2000)

Dick was killed by the Joker after Joker stole reality-altering powers from Mxyzptlk and remade the universe to his liking.

It’s unclear exactly how he died, but Joker kept Nightwing’s dead and rotting corpse alongside Tim’s and Jason’s.

Dick was brought back to life when the universe was restored by Mxyzptlk and Hal Jordan (as the Spectre) after Superman defeated Joker.

Time dead: unclear, but it appears to be multiple days and theoretically could be several weeks.

2. Briefly killed by Mr Fun (Batman: Family 2:7, 2003)

Dick was killed by Mr Fun, a skilled assassin working for a gang boss calling herself Athena (who was also CEO of Wayne Enterprises and trying to bring it down from the inside). Mr Fun crept up on Nightwing, hit him in the head with a golf club and then, while he was concussed and disoriented, used pressure points to stop his breathing and heart.

Cass fought Mr Fun off Nightwing, but Mr Fun shot her off the roof with one of dead Nightwing’s wrist rockets. When Cass recovered, Mr Fun had left (to kill the person they were supposed to be guarding). She returned to Nightwing and resuscitated him using CPR, which apparently cured his head injury too.

Time dead: long enough for Cass to fight off Mr Fun (which wasn’t easy) and recover from being shot down, and then give Dick CPR, so probably a good few minutes.

3. Killed and raised by Lex Luthor (Forever Evil 6–7, 2014)

Dick was hooked up to a murder machine involving a bomb wired to his heart, such that it could only be disarmed by killing Dick. Lex Luthor stopped his heart by making him swallow a pill.

Batman of course then started going feral on Lex until Lex persuaded him that he could bring Dick back, which he did with a shot of adrenaline to the heart.

Time dead: long enough for Batman to get in a good couple of punches on Luthor, plus time for Luthor to detach Dick from the machine, so probably up to two minutes.

4. Beaten to death by groblins (Dark Nights: Death Metal 7, 2021)

Dick, along with other members of the Batfamily, was overwhelmed by a swarm of ‘groblins’: mindless evil Jokerised Robins invading from the Dark Multiverse, led by the Robin King (an evil child Bruce Robin). His death happens off-panel but we see his corpse lying on the ground.

(Then Bruce, who was already dead and a Black Lantern, raised his dead family members as zombies.)

Dick was restored to proper life when Wonder Woman, powered by the determination of her friends, defeated the evil Batman Who Laughs and persuaded the gods to remake the multiverse as it was before the evil universes invaded the good ones.

Time dead: somewhere from quarter of an hour to an hour? Or perhaps a lot longer, if it took longer to rebuild the world. It’s always a little tricky to be sure when world remakes are involved.

Afterlife visits

A trip to Dis (Titans 1:4, 1999)

Dick, along with the rest of the Titans, signed a magic book created by a demon called Goth that summoned them to Dis, a region of Hell. Goth had positioned himself as an actor and superstar and got his fans to sign the book, then led them in a chant to transport them to Dis.

Kory was amongst those who had signed the book and was transported, so Dick and the rest of the Titans went after her.

They discover that the way to get out is to find things to care about, and spend some time individually persuading people to care one at a time, but they start to lose hope, infected by the aura of apathy in Dis. Kory, who is less affected, attacks Goth and throws him down from a height, causing his fans to return to the mortal world because they are worried about Goth and the Titans to return because they are worried about Kory.

Time in afterlife: looks like several hours.

Hell heist (Nightwing 4:103, 2023)

Raven created a portal to bring Nightwing, along with Beast Boy and Cyborg, to Hell to find Blockbuster’s contract with the demon Neron, wherein Blockbuster sold the soul of his firstborn daughter, a nine-year-old called Olivia.

They found the contract and returned to the mortal realm, also courtesy of Raven. (Turned out Neron’s contract was easy to thwart: Dick just had to become a foster parent and assume legal guardianship of Olivia. Neron tried to tempt Dick with super powers, but while Dick very much enjoyed the free sample he was not even briefly tempted to give up Olivia for them.)

Time in afterlife: probably a few hours of travel, fighting, and research.

Batfam Death Project Masterpost

[suzukiblu]

updated/expanded "Kara gets to Earth on-time with baby Kal" AU excerpt:

Kara doesn’t understand the aliens’ language, which is fine. She didn’t expect to. She watches them interact and listens as they speak, familiarizing herself with the cadence and pitch and rhythm of their voices and doing her best to pick out individual sounds and patterns. She likes languages well enough. She did pretty well with Daxamite dialects in school last year, anyway. 

The aliens are kind, at least so far. They found her and Kal curled up in the remains of their smashed-up ships in their ruined field and brought them into their home despite the mess. Kara thinks they’re farmers, probably? So probably Laborer Guild, or whatever this planet has instead of Laborers. The House of El is mostly Thinkers, but Kara isn’t worried about that. She’ll figure something out, as soon as she figures out how to communicate with the aliens. Pantomime has not been all that helpful, at least not so far. 

They gave her a warm, unusually sweet drink that might have some kind of milk in it, with soft white pellets in it that are even sweeter. It’s not quite like anything she’s ever tasted before, but she likes it. Kal really liked it, though the aliens seemed to think he shouldn't have too much and gave her a little cup of just milk alone for him instead. Or she thinks it's milk, anyway. 

It's white. And very thick, and almost creamy? Though it tasted good too, when Kara stole a sip to make sure it wouldn’t upset Kal’s stomach if she gave it to him. 

"Pye," the alien that Kara is assuming is female announces in their weirdly simple-sounding language, putting a round plate with a slice of something on it on the table in front of her. Kal reaches for it from her lap with a burble. Kara peers at it too. The slice is triangular, with a crisp crust and an oozy red filling. She wonders why the plate is round, if the "pye" is meant to be sliced and served triangularly. It seems a little disrespectful to the cook–or baker? Or at least the artisan who made the plate, which was clearly painted with very dedicated care. Painted by hand, even, not a pre-programmed design reproduced by a machine. That’s very luxurious for Laborers to be offering unexpected guests who just destroyed their field, even being the wrong shape for the "pye". 

Maybe they’re overcompensating, Kara thinks. Or maybe the aliens are really just that kind. 

Maybe. 

She thinks they’re little flowers, the designs around the edges of the plate. Or at least they look like they could be flowers. They’re flower-<i>like</i>, if nothing else, and all the weird colors of them might just be a stylistic choice. 

They’re pretty. 

She wishes she could show her mother. 

Kara crushes down the grief for the thousandth time and smiles at the aliens. They smile back. 

It helps, almost. 

Almost. 

The “pye” tastes very good. 

.

.

.

It takes some effort, but Kara learns the aliens’ names after she and Kal finish their “pye” and she cleans up his sticky little face. The possibly female one is “Ma Mar-Tha”, and the possibly male one is “Pa Jona-Than”. So . . . maybe they're both female, actually? Going by their names, anyway. They both identify themselves as “Kent”, too, though she’s not sure if that’s another name and they’re either married or related, or if it’s the local word for “farmer” or “Laborer”. It’s unclear. 

They don’t look related, but she doesn’t really know how “related” this species would look to her eyes anyway. The colors of their skins are close, although their hair, though similarly textured, doesn’t really match–Ma Mar-Tha’s is an oddly neutral brown, and Pa Jona-Than’s is an even more oddly dull blond. Kara’s never seen hair in such faded colors. Her own is as bright as this planet’s strange sun, and Kal’s is as black as the space between stars. And both of their eyes are the El blue, of course. 

Pa Jona-Than’s eyes are blue too, but a washed-out shade of it. And Ma Mar-Tha’s are brown, which is so exotic and unusual that Kara has a little bit of trouble not staring too much. They’re very warm and very soft, though, and she likes how they look. 

They’re both middle-aged, she thinks, or at least strongly resemble the Kryptonian version of it. Their clothes are soft and shapeless, with very little structure or sign of formality to the garments, though Kara supposes they might be some sort of sleepwear? She and Kal did crash very early in this planet’s morning, from what she can tell. 

She tells them her name and Kal’s, though they pronounce them a bit oddly. She’s sure she’s pronouncing theirs oddly too, so it’s not as if it’s an insult. They say their names all at once, though, as if they’re singular words–"Karazorel” and “Kalel”, almost. She manages to get them both down to “Kara” and “Kal”, and they get her down to “Ma” and “Pa”, so she supposes “Mar-Tha” and “Jona-Than” are their surnames, and “Kent” does mean “Laborer”. Kal isn’t verbal enough to get to any of it, of course, but laughs sweetly and claps as he listens to them all exchanging names and sounds back and forth. 

Kara crushes down the grief again and wonders how long it’ll be until he cries for Aunt Lara and Uncle Jor. He’ll miss them soon, she’s sure. He’s a sweet, good-natured little thing, but he’s not even old enough to walk properly yet. And they’re his parents. 

She only hasn’t cried for her own because she doesn’t have the room to. Not until she’s sure they’re somewhere safe, and that Kal is going to be alright. That she can take care of him here, however she has to. 

Who knows, maybe this farm needs some more “Kents” on it. 

.

.

.

Ma gives Kara clothes: a strangely soft knee-length dress patterned with more pretty alien flowers and clunky, heavy boots with actual laces in them and a sturdy blue jacket with a surprising amount of pockets and a thick, warm, fleece-like lining, accented with flat metal studs and an odd metal trim with a tag hanging from one side of it. It takes Kara a moment, but then she realizes the trim actually seems to be some sort of fastener. 

Huh. 

The clothes don't fit quite right–Kara thinks the dress is probably meant to be a little longer, from the cut of it, and the jacket is a bit too big and the boots are a little loose too–but she does appreciate them. She's been in her own clothes since . . . 

Krypton died while she was in these clothes. 

Everyone she's ever loved, everyone she's ever known, everyone she's ever seen . . . 

Kara appreciates the new ones. 

. . . although, do clothes on this planet just not have house crests? Or are Ma and Pa just not from families that have house crests? 

She supposes they might not be. They are Laborers, so . . . maybe. But they also served her on a hand-painted plate, if with strange manners, so she's not sure what to think. 

Maybe she just doesn't understand the specific signifiers in their clothing, or maybe their house signifiers are just in their jewelry. Ma is wearing tiny gold hoops in her(?) ears and a thin gold necklace and Pa is wearing a thick leather bracelet with a glass and metal circle in the center of it, and they're both wearing gold rings on the third fingers of their left hands. Pa's is just a single plain band, but Ma has two–one just plain like his(?), but thinner, and one with a trio of little clear gemstones set in it. Diamonds, maybe? That would make sense, for a Laborer's jewelry. Diamonds are pretty, but they're both reasonably common in nature and simple enough to recreate under laboratory conditions, so they're certainly affordable enough for a farmer to wear even day-to-day. And they're sturdy, too. Gold less so, obviously, but maybe the rings are just gold-plated or an alloy.

It's something to think about besides the end of the world. 

. . . their world, anyway. 

As far as clothes go there's nothing that'll fit Kal at all, so Kara just keeps him wrapped up safe and secure in the bright red El crest blanket Jor and Lara sent him here in. Though she knows he'll need more diapers soon, obviously, and something he can actually crawl around in too. He can't stay in her lap forever. 

She wishes he could, right now. Even letting Ma hold him while she changed was . . . stressful. 

A little too stressful, maybe, but Kara tries not to think about it. Not right now, at least. 

She needs to protect him. Needs to take care of him. Needs to–

Kara exhales. Wraps Kal up in his El crest blanket and her borrowed jacket, and smiles at Ma and Pa. They smile back at her. 

Well, that's a start. 

[tizeline]

Bro that angst potential ur separated au is keeping me up at night. You've said since Mikey would be a powerhouse due to training at such an early age, would it be safe to assume that Leo & raph are too? They've been mastering their ninpo 4 years? And if yes then dam they must be tanks. Must be a force to be reckoned with the bros and drax being all chaotic. Did they start to train so early bcuz drax only saw them as soldiers n stuff? Drax sure must've softened over the years huh guess he couldn't handle the cute lil menaces lol. Is Donnie aware of his own ninpo yet? I'm imagining him going up against the others with all his cool tech and then they whip out this anime magic ass superpower out of nowhere. Like meeting others like u after years of thinking u were the only one must be at least baffling right, now it turns out magic is real too. And he's gonna have it too(Not to mention the bro bomb waiting to drop on his head). Would his insecurities rise after witnessing all that?

Sorry I just absolutely LOVE ur au friend, i have a ton of questions but ill hold it 4 ltr. I'm really excited to see where you take it :)) -🌾

Oh man, Anon, glad to see you so excited haha!

Just a heads up, I'm still figuring out the story of the AU, so I don't know all the specifics yet, but here are some of my thoughts. And also, this became a bit of a ramble, that's what you get when you send long asks lol /lh

The way I'm thinking how Draxum is gonna be like in this AU is that he didn't view himself as the turtles' father initially, not really because he only viewed them as mere tools for him to use, he always saw them as people with induviduality. But rather, he hadn't really connected the dots that creating children + raising said children = parenthood, which led to Draxum like a year after mutating the turtles having the sudden realization one day of "OH SHIT AM I A DAD!?" and having a mini crisis because of that.

Anyway, while I don't think Draxum is the perfect dad in this AU by any means, he does genuinely care about his kids. (If Mikey managed to win Draxum over in canon after having spent a whole season fighting each other, there's no way he'd care about Mikey any less in a scenario where they've been on the same side since day one like they have in this AU.) He started training the turles from an early age and they are expected to help him with his Definitely Not Evil World Domination Plan, but they are still allowed free time and hobbies and such. And aside from some "ugh I don't wanna train right now I wanna play vidya gaemes" occasionally, the turtles never really opposed the idea of them becoming Draxums super soldiers. Kids are really easily influenced and if your parent keeps telling you that you are the heroes who are gonna save the world from evil, chances are you're gonna latch on to that narrative without question. But after meeting Donnie and April, who knows, it might be what finally starts making the other turtles question if their cause really is as just as they think :) That being said, I still have to figure out how Draxum would react exactly to his sons starting to oppose his world view.

Then their abilities! I also have to do more reasearch into exactly how the magic system works in RoTMNT cuz uhhh it's a bit unclear sometimes. Anyway, ninpo is specifically the magic used by the Hamato clan, and considering Raph, Leo and Mikey weren't raised as Hamato I don't think they would have access to that specific type of magic (though I still think they'd be be able to possibly unlock it later down the line) They would still have access to yokai magic, and of course the mystic weapons that they stole in the show would just have been given to them in AU by Draxum. And oh yeah, the brothers are powerful. To be fair, Donnie was able to keep up with Draxum pretty well in the pilot episode, so he wouldn't be COMPLETELY outmatched by his brothers. His tech is powerful enough that he'd be able to put up a decent fight even if he lacks mystic powers himself but..... three against one? Yeah, Donnie isn't winning any time soon. The biggest advantage he'd have would honestly be that his brothers wouldn't really WANT to fight him cuz they'd be all like "Long Lost Brother™??? 😭😭😭 Please come home Long Lost Brother™ we love you!!! 😭😭😭"

And I think Splinter would have kept both of their origins secret initially like he did in the show, so Donnie would't have any ninpo either, but I also think Donnie would still learn about the whole Lou Jitsu and Genetically Modified Super Soldier thing earlier than in canon. And god, yeah, learning about all of that would definietly be A Lot, which is why I still need time to figure out Donnie's exact reaction sorry Anon you're gonna have to be patient XD

[aspiringsophrosyne]

Let's talk about Stream Ripley and TLOVM Ripley.

(Spoilers for Critical Role Campaign 1 and The Legend of Vox Machina Season 3 under the cut.)

What’s The Difference?

Stream Ripley has no extensive backstory or Freudian excuse. Instead, the woman’s actions and words paint the picture of a classic mad scientist. Her home empire did not support her ambitions, so she got pissy and aligned with fugitives from said empire to further her goals.

She’s an admitted supremacist; during her fight with Vox Machina, she tells Percy that they (humans) stand above the other races on their ingenuity. Percy does not grant this the dignity of a response.

As I mentioned here, TLOVM left out a detail from Ripley’s story: how she designed a black powder weapon when Percy invented them. In the show, it’s unclear, but in the stream, it’s explicit she copied his work.

Ripley and Percy

Since she couldn’t have devised it herself, stealing Percy’s idea ties him to her destruction. She unleashes the black powder weapons wherever possible, not just for her petty revenge and aspirations but because Orthax tells her it will drive Percy mad. And she's all about that.

In contrast, Percy doesn’t spread his invention beyond Whitestone but keeps a squad of riflemen to defend it. He understands having and using black powder weapons will lead to their propagation, but this never stops him. Percy knows the potential harm his creation could cause but stops right before he would take the steps to truly prevent it.

Stream Ripley is far more depraved than Percy, yet still reminiscent of him. That's what makes her effective. Two young people who became consumed with indiscriminate, destructive revenge after the death of their families? Sharing similarities? Not shocking. But Percy sharing similarities and a connection through their designs with a woman whose immense ego, pettiness, murderousness, carelessness, spite, callousness, and supremacism fuel her proliferation of such a dangerous stolen idea?

That is far juicier.

Ripley raises the question of how far Percy might fall. Is it possible for him to turn into her? Or something even worse? She stole his invention; he has far more destructive potential than she does.

How responsible is he for his ideas falling into her hand? How irresponsible was he for creating and using it? Someone was going to replicate his gun at some point, and he knew it.

According to Taliesin, for Percy, it was inevitable. The question was never if but when.

Consistency

This is the narrative advantage of making an antagonistic foil simple and wicked. But there’s a practical advantage as well. If Ripley’s just fantasy Elon Musk, she doesn’t need extra exposition. She’s characterized; we’re done. There are no questions about her backstory or her motivations that need answering.

But TLOVM’s flashback to her past raises questions.

For stream watchers, did Delilah help raze Ripley’s home with the other Assembly members? If so, did Ripley know? Did Ripley know and not care? Was Ripley even aware Delilah was ex-Assembly? Was Delilah even a member of the Assembly in TLOVM’s canon?

For show-only watchers, how exactly did a woman who supposedly wants to make it easier for the common folk to fight back against wizards wind up torturing children in the employ of a wizard? While there are potential reasons and explanations, none are provided.

That flashback introduced wrinkles to the story with those unanswered questions. Keeping this villain simple would have kept her more consistent.

It's possible to make a complex, complicated villain with contradictory motivations...but Ripley didn't have the right set-up for that, and S3 didn't have the time to put all of her new, disparate pieces together into a cohesive whole.

And in her case, why would you want to? It robs her of her efficacy and wastes time the show doesn't have.

And yeah, keeping this villain simple wouldn't have just tightened up the plot and her character, it would've saved precious time.

Time

Because putting the wrinkles aside, what do we get from this flashback? What do we get from dragging Ripley's defeat out? Admittedly, the fight on the boat was well-made, and we get a sneak peek of the Cerberus Assembly, but neither was worth giving up the group kill Ripley earned in the stream. Nor was it worth the time that could’ve been saved ending her life an episode earlier.

Keeping Ripley simple does not just make her a better villain who serves Percy’s characterization by being his dark reflection. It doesn’t just make it easier to keep her story consistent. It saves time. And for an adaptation of Vox Machina’s story, time is paramount. There are seven protagonists and a ton of plot to get through; TLOVM can't afford to waste a second.

[novaricewrites]

If Magic Chooses-

So we know the magic in Prythian ties the land, Courts, and the High Lords and can be vaguely sentient (as with the Cauldron).

It's unclear how it chooses the High Lords but the magic seems to be deliberate and adheres faithfully to whoever it chooses. Even Amarantha couldn't fully access it despite all that she did - she could only prevent the Lords from using it against her.

So imagine if this was explored.

E.g: The time when Feyre and the IC stole the Book of Breathings from the Summer Court as guests - literally committing a crime worthy of a magical death sentence. This then left the Summer Court open to Hybern's invasion, further enabled by what Feyre did in the Spring Court.

This didn't just harm the High Lords. It harmed the Courts in a major way. The very land and the people living in there were devastated by it. And it must have caused mass turmoil that even the magic sensed.

So imagine because of this intricate connection to the land, the people and the High Lords - it caused Feyre's bond to the Spring and Summer magic to become hard to control or even the magic rejecting her.

The kernels of magic are technically still the High Lords'. They're not Feyre's magic but were gifted like handing her a scale off their essence. And it would make sense if the magic reacted to the state of the High Lords (and deeper the courts themselves) if they experienced deep, visceral emotions & damage thanks to Feyre.

Magic being fickle about who wields it would sort of suit the capriciousness of Faeries. It would also require Feyre to use her wits and sense to navigate situations instead of resorting to the Feysand tactics of Lie, Steal and Justify.

It would give actual consequences and gravity to her actions, and add depth to why her being a Made Fae is a big deal. She is now attached via these kernels of magic to the land in a way that she can't run from. Just as High Lords (even those reluctant like Tamlin are).

Just the plot potential and character development. And the internal conflict over actions that we never got.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

On the topic of EAH and Twst I can't help but think about how it would translate to the rivalry between NRC and Royal Sword Academy. Like, there would be a whole school for the heros and another for the villains. I wonder if it would also make the general population see the NRC students as evil and murderers or something

[Referencing this post and this post!]

I guess that might be including elements of The School for Good and Evil then? Those tack on a lot more social discrimination based on what your role is labelled (either “good” or “bad”). Raven Queen in EAH does experience ostracism from her classmates due to her mother’s legacy, but plenty of people in the main cast treat her like a normal classmate rather than someone to be wary of. In SFGAE (and even Disney’s own Descendants), there is a lot more overt hatred and discrimination of those deemed villains.

The concept of separate schools could mess with the roster of NRC students by separating unclear villain characters or non-villain characters out. For example, Kalim, Rook, and Silver are “good” characters. Jack has no clear inspiration, so he isn’t exactly a “bad” wolf unless you specifically assign him a destiny as one (such as the Big Bad Wolf). It could also be argued that “minion” characters like the card soldiers aren’t truly “bad” because they’re operating under an even greater evil. Strict categorizing and sorting into schools based on that might be more difficult than you’d think. I think I’d at least want one campus as a shared space for everyone to interact.

I think it how the public perceives the students would differ based on the severity of the destiny, honestly. Some might think of them as murderers but others might just assume they’re spiteful or unpleasant (or will be someday). If you’re fated to kill someone then surely you’d get more harsh judgment than someone who… I dunno, stole some tarts. In any case, the bulk of it wouldn’t be anything positive. I feel like that’d create this environment where the average NRC student feels like they have to fend for themselves (since the public sure isn’t supporting them), which leads into them coming across as independent and arrogant, which only goes on to confirm people’s preconceived notions of them, etc. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, and that’s something else they have to break free from.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Captain John Price x Female Reader Dark Romance

Chapter Specific Warnings: canon-typical cursing, pretend oral, protective Price, vaginal fingering, sex with a condom, asking permission, hand necklace, doggy style, slightly possessive Price

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Part Five of Dangerous Pursuit (for @glitterypirateduck)

Made an offering, Price does his best to protect you. Alone together, the two of you finally give in.

Chapter Four // Chapter Six

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // dangerous pursuit masterlist

You’re trapped. Caged. Like swine in a muddy, cramped pen.

You have no power here. No control. The only other person in this situation who might be able to protect you is Price, but his reasons for being in this room with Dimitri are elusive. While you are aware that Price is after Dimitri in pursuit of a larger target, his reasons are a blank space. Empty paper.

In that safehouse, Price never revealed anything specific. You aren’t even knowledgeable about what happened to Nikola. Not that you particularly care about Nikola, but you’re more concerned with what Price and his team did with the man once they got what they needed. Just because Price saved you, just because he touched you and said things that turned your resolve to goo, doesn’t mean all of Price’s intentions are sincere.

You are in the dark on his motivations. What is clear is that Price is trying his best to divert Dimitri away from this idea, that he isn’t interested in you sinking between his legs to fall to your knees.

But Dimitri is adamant, and the gun on the table is a silent threat.

Why does Dimitri care? Aren’t you supposed to be his favorite? That’s what Nikola said. That’s why Nikola stole you away, because—in his fucked-up brain—he wanted to get back at the man for letting him down.

Yet, how is Dimitri letting Nikola down. Dimitri is a dangerous man. You know this, and you’ve always done your best to stay out of his business, to keep yourself detached and indifferent. But you can’t turn away. Not when Nikola dragged you into this.

Survival. This is all about survival. You need to remember that. This will pass once Price secures what he needs.

Slowly, you step forward, and Price flexes his hips, lifting off the couch slightly as he spreads his legs wider. The movement is downright sexy. Teeth-rotting. Heat flares in your stomach and bursts outward, moving to your core and your chest, your body remembering his mouth between your thighs.

You’re not even upset that it’s calling out to him. You’re not even frustrated. What sits in the back of your throat is a calm acceptance, that Dimitri must be obeyed if you want to make it out of here with your life intact. Being on the receiving end of Dimitri’s displeasure is a blood-beast. An ill omen of certain destruction.

As you start to sink between Price’s spread legs, your hands go out to steady yourself. They land against the tops of Price’s knees, a slight tremor shivers through your fingers as they make contact. It isn’t because you’re itching to touch him but because you’re afraid of Dimitri, and what he might do if you don’t do this.

Under your palms, Price is warm and strong. An anchor. You try not to look at his face, deciding it might be best to focus on a different part of him like his chin or neck. But you utterly fail, only needing to know that you’re not alone in this, that Price understands. That he will be gentle with you.

Price stares at you intently. On the surface, he appears impassive, but you notice subtle signs that tell you otherwise like the twitching muscle at the back of his jaw, and the tension in his thigh muscles beneath your hands.

What is he thinking? What is he planning?

Your knees do not hit the floor.

With a movement that startles you, Price’s arm shoots forward, his hand grasping the back of your neck. His fingers lightly dig into your skin. Inhaling, you immediately tense in his grip. Whether Price notices is unclear. He draws you up his body and buries his face against the side of your head. In this position, it might look like he’s inhaling your scent or perhaps kissing your cheek.

Price is not doing either of those things.

“Follow my lead,” he murmurs in your ear. He’s nearly inaudible, and it’s a wonder that you hear him at all.

Lead? What lead?

There is only a moment to guess. Only a moment to consider the options in front of you. The tips of your fingers press into the fabric of his pants as Price lightly squeezes the back of your neck. It’s not a possessive or even pushy movement. It is a reassurance, a silent momentum that is urging you to trust him.

And you don’t want to trust him. Yet, at the same time, you know that you should.

It’s a goddamn annoyance.

While keeping his grip on the back of your neck, Price adjusts his hips again, reaching between your bodies to undo the front of his belt. Shifting his hold slightly on your neck, Price pulls back enough so that your faces are close and your gazes are locked.

Price says nothing. He doesn’t need to. Everything that needs to be communicated is relayed through his gaze alone. It tells you to trust him, to dive in and follow his lead just like he said to do. There is a soft pleading lurking within that makes itself known. Dimitri is a dangerous man, and Price knows, which is why he is asking you to allow him this.

When the belt is undone, and the front of Price’s pants sit open, he shoves your head down. Price is forceful, and the sudden push startles you, causing you to stifle a squeak. The sudden, surging urge to resist and bite back is immediate. It flares, bright and hot and angry before extinguishing when you realize that Price does nothing else.

He may have shoved your face against his groin, but that’s as far as it goes. Instead, Price’s arms adjust, the hand on the back of your neck shifting upward to gather and guide your hair over to once side.

It’s…a cocoon. Price is shielding you from their gaze.

Understanding seeps in, and you slide your hands up his thighs, adding another layer to the barrier. The situation is precarious. Delicate. One slip up, and Dimitri and friends will know the two of you are completely faking this.

Price’s hold on your hair stiffens, and then lightly presses before backing off.

Right. You’re pretending, which means you can’t stay in place.

It’s an awkward angle, but you manage a slight bob of your head. The moment you do, Dimitri’s wicked laugh drifts into your ears to settle like dust. Your cheeks heat and it’s not because your lips are dangerously close to the outline of Price’s dick.

You’re fucking fuming. You’d love to take that gun and shoot Dimitri where it matters.

“Now that you have what you want, let’s talk business.” Dimitri’s voice is smooth and venomous.

Price’s answer is a muted grunt.

You stay course, not daring to move more than necessary, not daring to try to change direction or speed or anything. Eventually you’ll have to do something. How long can you do this before Dimitri suspects that nothing is happening beneath Price’s makeshift protective barrier?

“The buyer is on a tight schedule. I need a guarantee that the exchange will happen at the scheduled time.” Dimitri’s tone is neutral. Distant.

Price’s fingers that brush against the side of your throat tense. “You’ve received a small advance. Was that not satisfactory?”

“It was.”

“And yet you take issue with guaranteed delivery?”

Hearing the slight tremor of annoyance in Price’s voice, you freeze. After a few seconds, Price is lightly pressing on your head again, and you resume, realizing your mistake.

Not knowing what Dimitri is doing is agonizing. Having your back to him twists your stomach and makes you question if you’re actually safe with Price. This could just be an illusion of safety. A way to make yourself feel better when the situation is anything but.

“No issue,” answers Dimitri in a slow drawl. “The buyer is particular and doesn’t take it well when something doesn’t go his way. I’m sure you understand.”

Price’s hips shift beneath you, and a low rumble vibrates in his chest.

Dimitri’s smug laugh sends your blood boiling. “We should wrap this up before things get…messy.”

Price doesn’t acknowledge Dimitri’s comment. “The location and time remain the same. The inventory will be loaded onto the ship once the wire clears. That is the arrangement.” Price is speaking through clenched teeth as if you’re truly making him come undone.

The acting is impressive. You have to give him that.

There is a delayed pause before Dimitri speaks again. “I’ve sent a partial payment to the account. As a thank you for the small advance.”

Price’s hold on you tightens, pressing you a bit closer to his groin. It’s an awkward angle and your neck is starting to cramp. You won’t be able to keep this up if it worsens.

There is the distinct clinking of bottle against glass. “As a thank you for making this process so…smooth, feel free to take her to the private room.”

Price’s hand immediately slides between your face and his groin, covering up the front of his pants. In the next second, Price is guiding you away from him. His gaze lingers on Dimitri before slowly sliding to you.

“You heard what he said,” says Price with a slight growl, his head tilting almost imperceptibly toward the room in question.

You know Price is acting, yet you don’t appreciate his domineering tone.

Using Price’s spread thighs for support, you push yourself to standing. You ball your hands into fists, attempting to stifle the gentle shaking taking shape in your fingers. Price must realize this because he stands abruptly, grabbing your arm and promptly forcing you to follow him.

“Make him happy, Sparrow,” singsongs Dimitri over his shoulder, bringing his vodka glass to his lips.

At the back of the large VIP room, next to the raised stage, is a plain black door. Olivia steps away from the pole like she’s going to cut Price off. There is genuine concern and fury in her eyes. Of everyone here, Olivia is the boldest, but this is not her fight.

When the two of you lock gazes, you shake your head and Olivia stops, silently asking if you’re sure. Price isn’t going to force himself on you. This you know.

“I’m fine,” you silently speak to her, overenunciating a bit so that Olivia can pick up on your meaning.

Olivia frowns but she returns to the pole, glancing back over her shoulder one more time as Price yanks open the door and shoves you inside. He slams it shut, and remains there, head turned in the direction of the door. His chest moves rapidly, up and down until, finally, he engages the lock and drops his hand.

Price doesn’t look at you. His face is turned to the side, his eyes focused elsewhere. Bringing his left hand up to the side of his face, he presses two fingers to the inside of his ear, the middle of his brow pinched.

“You hear all that, Simon?” Price pauses. Listens. “Send a drone for recon. Find snipe points and pinpoint potential exits. I want both teams prepped, ready, and in position before Dimitri arrives.” He pauses again. Nods. “Very good. Zero-six going dark.”

With that, Price removes a small earbud no larger than a pea from out of his ear. He drops it to the floor and then crushes it under his shoe. Bending at the knees, Price picks up the broken tech and deposits it in the small, hidden trash receptacle in the wall.

Then, he’s turning toward you, looming large as he invades your space. Price’s hands hover just shy of your upper arms like he wants to touch you but isn’t sure if he should.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, the middle of his brow softening. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m not hurt.” You shrug. “Well—my pride, maybe.” An awkward laugh escapes from your throat and you immediately cringe.

Price closes the distance, his hands coming to rest on your arms. His gaze roams over your face with concern, then drop to other parts of you. It’s not a heated look, but one of deep worry, as if your words are not enough to calm him. He looks you over once, then twice, and only then does his hands drop. Finally, he glances away from you, taking in the small room.

Price frowns. “What is this?”

You shrug. “All the VIP rooms have them. They’re for more private interactions.”

Price glances at you briefly before turning his attention back to the small room. The space is cramped. There is a neatly made queen-sized bed with black sheets penned in by three walls. Above the bed, both on the walls and on the ceiling, are mirrors. The lighting is dim. Moody. You and Price stand in the only open space and that isn’t even very large. There’s roughly four feet between the end of the bed and the door.

To you and Price’s left and right are shelving built into the walls. One side is a fully stocked mini bar. The shelves on the other side are full of different sized condoms, various bottles of lube, toys, wet wipes, and even cleaning supplies.

Price’s frown turns upward. He steps toward the shelving full of supplies and laughs softly. “This place has everything.”

“That’s the experience Thirst likes to offer,” you say, almost mockingly.

Price’s gaze returns to you. The relaxed state of his shoulders shifts suddenly, stiffening. “Are there cameras in here? Microphones?”

“Absolutely not,” you say vehemently. “The VIP rooms are incredibly private for a reason. There are a couple panic buttons hidden in the room but that’s for guests who don’t respect boundaries.”

Price seems to calm then, his shoulders relaxing. He’s quiet a moment and you’re not sure if you should fill the silence. How long do the two of you need to be in here before you can emerge?

“I don’t think we can leave here any time soon,” smirks Price.

“I had the same thought. It would look bad on me.”

Price’s eyebrows rise slightly. “Bad on you? No.” A protest begins to form on your lips but Price keeps talking. “Two minutes and done?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Shame on me.”

The back of your neck flames. The memory of him and his mouth on you is too fresh and new and Price is too goddamn close. And there is nowhere for you to hide.

You swallow and nearly choke. Glancing at a point behind Price, you answer him. “I suppose we’re stuck here for a bit.”

Price only nods, his amused smile faltering slightly. The two of you stand in silence. Not moving. Not speaking. The stagnant quiet is stifling. Suffocating. In this tight space, the musky scent of Price’s cologne makes its way into your nostrils, filling your lungs with him.

Seeing him out of tactical gear is its own type of asphyxiation. No cargo pants or boots. No beanie or oddly endearing floppy hat.

The all-black attire speaks to subtle danger, and whatever game he’s playing with Dimitri. His shoes are neatly laced and polished. His slacks are perfectly pressed and free of wrinkles. That doesn’t include his button up shirt. With the sleeves rolled up to the elbows to show off his massive forearms, Price looks very much the part. He oozes sexiness. Your gaze scans his entire body, entirely focused on how the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, revealing a bit of dark chest hair.

Does it cover his chest? His stomach? Does it—

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that Price’s movement toward the bed startles you out of your lustful thinking. He sits slowly, pausing on the edge before reaching down to unlace his shoes. He kicks them off. After, Price eases himself up the bed, falling onto his back with a deep sigh.

His eyes are closed and one large hand rests on his stomach just below the open buttons.

You don’t move toward him. You don’t move at all. The heels you wear are lead, full of cement, and you are glued to the spot, staring at the man who causes your emotions to swirl inside you like a storm.

Price’s chest rises and falls steadily. The air conditioning kicks in, the small room filling with a quiet hum.

“Are you going to stand there the whole time or are you going to join me?” Price doesn’t open his eyes when he speaks, and his gruff voice is rougher, almost sleep-laced.

Your legs respond without prompting, ushering you to the edge of the bed. Sinking down, you pause right there, gaze traveling up Price’s perfect form.

“Staring is rude.” Still, Price’s eyes remain shut. How does he know you’re staring at him?

“Shut up,” you mutter, rolling your eyes, laying down next to him on the bed on your right side.

Price inhales. Exhales. Inhales. Ex—

One eyelid cracks open as he turns his head slightly in your direction. He says nothing, only watching you through that small slit.

“What?” you prompt, shoving as much annoyance into your tone as you can even though you’re warm between the thighs.

Just as the question leaves your mouth, Price grabs for you. The hand resting on his stomach ensnares your upper arm. There is no resistance. The man is strong, hauling you against him. One arm slides under and behind you to secure you against him at the waist. The other slides to the back of your thigh, lifting your leg up to drape over his. Your black cocktail dress is too short, and the fabric rolls upward revealing more and more skin.

That same hand, the one that grips your thigh, slides higher, securing itself at the very top beneath the curve of your cheek. The cheeks on your face flame, and your hands dig into his shirt.

Price’s sigh, once he settles, is one of contentment and pleasure, like you’re supposed to be here. You attempt to put some distance between your bodies but Price’s hand on your thigh only tightens, keeping you in place.

This is too close. Too affectionate. You cannot allow this to go further even if the rest of you is responding to him.

“You’re tense,” murmurs Price after a minute.

“It’s a tense situation,” you reply dryly.

You can see yourselves in the mirror, and how intimate this position is with your leg draped across his thighs. With his hand on your upper thigh, and your cocktail dress bunched at your hips, you glimpse the slightest bit of your underwear peeking out from beneath the dress. If you can see it, Price can likely see it.

Price can—oh. Oh. Oh. Shit.

Price’s eyes are open. He watches you watch the tantalizing reveal of flesh beneath the fabric of your cocktail dress. Those large fingers of his dig in. Drag downward. Back up. Higher than before and closer to the delicate fabric.

Does Price intend to touch you? Does he intent to take this further? Do you even want him to?

Slowly, Price’s head shifts toward you, his face aligning with yours. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop,” he murmurs.

Those eyes of his sink into your soul and rips your autonomy from out your throat. Price squeezes your thigh, prompting you for an answer, his fingers dangerously close to brushing over your pussy through the fabric.

“Tell me,” he repeats.

Your lips part but there are no words. You are fighting nothing. Resisting nothing.

Price’s fingers slide underneath the fabric, pushing it aside. In the mirror, you are bare and open. Price’s inhale is husky, almost a growl. One lone finger slides through you, and the response is a wetness you know well.

“Tell me stop,” mutters Price, his own control slipping, his eyes shifting focus from your face to the mirror.

You like Price’s attention. You like how intensely he watches you, as if he never wants to forget a single inch. Entranced, your hand upon his chest lifts away, reaching for his face. When your thumb brushes Price’s bottom lip, he opens his mouth, and the tip of his tongue swipes against your skin. The touch surprises you, and your thumb draws away just as Price’s tongue retreats into his mouth.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeats again, as if you’ll answer him this time.

You inhale sharply as his middle finger presses into your entrance, stretching you perfectly, easing you open.

“Tell me,” he whispers. “Say it.”

“Don’t—” Price freezes, ready to withdraw. “Stop.”

There is sweet victory on his face. A triumphant, pleased appearance that has you softening. All lingering anticipation is gone. Price’s other hand is on the back of your neck, bringing your mouths together at the same moment his fingers fuck your pussy.

This kiss is deep and fierce. Passionate. It is not a stranger’s kiss, but one that sends a shiver through your loins, every muscle in your body singing with need. Heating your blood, this side of Price stirs a slickness in your core.

There is whiskey on his tongue, and just the slightest hint of cigar smoke.

“Fucking hell,” he groans against your mouth as your body clenches around him, insisting that he stay there.

Price claims you for himself, over and over again, with his lips and fingers. That grip on the back of your neck is entirely possessive. Wanton. There are no others words to describe this hunger that oozes from Price.

Your hands instinctually slide around his neck, and you’re drawing yourself closer until the two of you are nothing but lips, teeth, tongue, and the steady pump of his fingers.

This attraction and desperation is unfair. You should not feel so strongly in this moment. You shouldn’t want him for any reason. Perhaps this is simply fate playing a part, bringing the two of you together because it knows that after tonight, you’re unlikely to ever see Price again.

Price’s lips fall upon your neck, sucking at your skin, just as his wrist twists enough for his thumb to play with your clit as he fucks you. You whimper, and Price sucks on your neck harder. Your fingers dig and claw into his shirt, tugging, tugging so hard the few remaining buttons might pop.

He rubs your clit, swirling repeatedly until the friction sends your pussy fluttering around him, flooding with new wetness. It’s not your small death. Not yet. That sits low in your body, waiting to be unleashed like a viper hiding in the leaves.

It’ll strike when you least expect it, robbing you of all resolve.

Your nails dig into his flesh just above his collar, leaving little half-moons behind, but you do not draw blood. The sensation of his finger sliding in and out of you is fucking perfect but it’s not enough to get you where you need to go.

“Fuck, love. Look at you,” murmurs Price against your throat. In the mirror above the bed, you can see everything. The second finger sliding in, how much of him is inside you, and the way your body releases and flexes around him.

“Dimitri can only dream of seeing you like this. Because this,” Price punctuates his words with a perfectly placed flick of your clit, “is only for me.”

The stretch that comes from a second finger pulls a gnarled, pathetic whimper from your lips. It makes you weak, turns you to ash, grinding you down until the need to beg for Price is becoming difficult to refuse.

“What do you need, love?” His lips brush against skin only to draw your face to his, pressing his lips to yours.

Your brain is a miasma of noise and sensation, and filtering through it all is too difficult.

“I—I need,” you begin, only to moan softly as his thumb teases your clit, halting all thought.

“You need…what?” he teases, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you.

“John,” you breathe, saying his name like liquid sin. “I—I.” Your words are missing, floating up into the air to disappear. You cannot cling to them to form the thing you need to say.

Price’s groan is low. “My name. Say it again. I liked it.”

“John,” you repeat, and he lightly presses on your clit in response, sending you tumbling into the place you’re seeking.

The whimpered cry that rolls up your throat and bursts forth from between your lips is unobstructed. Your pussy squeezes around Price’s fingers even as he continues to move them inside you. His actions only prolong it, drawing it out, seeking more as your hips writhe in time with him.

The aftershocks are the worst part, not because they’re painful, but because the muscles in your thighs won’t stop twitching. Price’s smile against your mouth tells you all you need to know. He is smug, downright satisfied with how you fell apart for him.

Your fingers that dig into his collar fade away, slipping downward to rest at the opening of his shirt. Another little aftershock hits you, and your hand slips underneath the fabric to touch Price’s chest.

He does not stop you. It is the opposite. Price leans into your touch, claiming your mouth, slipping his fingers from your pussy, rolling you completely onto your back as he traps you beneath him.

Price’s hands travel downward to your thighs, squeezing, some of the stickiness rubbing off onto your skin. Your legs are spread and Price sits comfortable between them, his pelvis pressing against yours. You feel the hard outline of him, but Price makes no move to undo the rest of his belt or take off his pants.

He stays like this, forehead resting against your own, noses brushing, lips almost meeting.

“Do you want to leave?” he asks softly.

Do you want to leave? Not, we should, or I, but you. Price is asking you.

“No,” you murmur, because it’s true.

Leaving means going back out there, to Thirst, to Dimitri, and to your life with mounting unpaid medical and utility bills. No. You’re not interested in leaving. At least, not yet.

“I like it here.” The words leave your mouth without prompting, and you want to take them back. They sound too comfortable, too sincere, and Price might shy away if you appear too eager.

But he only nods. “Good.”

Giving your thighs one last squeeze, Price pushes off the bed, sliding off to stand at his full height. Staring down at you, Price reaches up to undo one button and then another, revealing more of his chest and stomach.

Price is all thick muscle, and the soft brown hair on his chest trails down his stomach to disappear below the waistline of his pants. You sit up slightly, tugging on the hem of your dress to secure it back into place.

It’s a nervous habit, a sudden inflection of uncertainty. Why are you nervous? So what if you fuck him? You’re never going to see Price after tonight. Might as well get this out of your system and be done with him.

With one fluid movement, Price removes his belt. “Tell me again. Do you want this?”

You take a deep breath. “I want this.”

His voice drops. Becomes a husky growl. “Turn over. Hands and knees.” The command is raspy and needy. It draws you to action, causing you to comply without thought. Your autonomy is gone or, at the very least, surrendered.

There is a brief rustling sound, like that of a cellophane wrapper, then Price settles in behind you, the bed dipping where his knees rest. Between then and when he touches you is agony. But when he does, it is gentle, just fingers against the backs of your legs. In the mirror, you watch Price, his gaze focused on where his hands are.

He glances up, smirks, and then those fingers become palms that grasp at your dress, shoving it up over your hips. You’re completely bare to him other than your underwear which is shoved to the side.

Your hands fist the bedding in anticipation. Price’s hands are on your waist, and then he’s lining you up, the head of his cock beginning to sink in. He splits you open, stretching you deliciously, pulling a sharp moan from your lungs.

“You can take it. I know you can,” he rasps as more of him slides inside.

Your pussy flutters around him.

“That’s it,” he coos. “You’re doing so well, love.”

As you start to adjust to his size, Price thrusts shallowly, retreating a bit before trying again, adding more of him a little bit at a time.

“Captain,” you groan, because it’s the only thing you’re able to manage.

“Captain?” he chuckles, this time thrusting hard. “What happened to ‘John?’”

“Fuck me, John. Please.”

Saying his name, drawing it out, snaps something inside him.

Fingers slide upward, and then both of his hands are around your neck. John’s fingers intertwine, locking into place. He’s not squeezing. Not chocking. Simply holding.

“If it’s too much, you smack the top of the bed, love.” Price lightly squeezes your throat. “I won’t be gentle.”

Price’s hands around your throat tightens more, enough to make your heart race but not to obstruct your breathing. Your body begins to tingle, the animalistic urge of dangerous anticipation flowering from the recesses of your brain. You sink into the feeling, allowing it to spread until your skin is buzzing with frenzy.

Using only your throat as a support, Price starts to fuck you. He keeps you in place, leaving you unable to move much as he snaps his hips against you, his cock hitting so deep you feel him in your stomach.

The sound of your bodies coming together over and over again is loud in the room, nearly swallowing up his harsh grunts and your breathy moans of pleasure. Price takes complete control. His hands might be around your throat, but he effortlessly bounces you up and down his length in a steady, rhythmic pace.

With his hands around your throat, you are forced to keep your head up at the mirrors. From this position, you can watch as Price’s cock slides in and out of your pussy. You can see the sweat on his brow, and the gorgeous corded tension in his muscles.

Price’s hands tighten around your throat a bit more as his pace increases, quickly turning into frantic, frenzied thrusts. Your breathing isn’t restricted, but you feel lighter, your body buzzing from the sheer power in each thrust.

“Fucking hell, love. Look at you.” Then, again, but more of a growl. “Look.”

The mirror reveals all, including your perfectly dazed, blissed out smile as Price owns your pussy, claims it for himself. You’ve been fucked before, but not like this. The dominating relentlessness is sinful, and the submission to it is salvation.

“Perfect,” groans Price. “Made for me.” He’s lost in it. Drifting. His pace changing as he struggles to stay afloat. But you hardly care, because watching Price’s change in the mirror is its own kind of arousal. You’re doing this to him, and that in itself is a fucking victory.

Shifting your weight to one hand, you reach between your legs to play with yourself. With Price’s hold on your neck, it’s a bit difficult, and it stretches your back, adding a bit of tension in the way he holds onto you. It only takes a few gentle circles of your clit before you’re clenching hard around him.

He groans, then slams his hips flush against yours, keeping still as you ride out your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck.” The second is drawn out, almost caught off at the end.

The moment your pussy eases up, Price goes all in, fucking you until every thrust punches the air from your lungs and your fingers twists the bedding beneath you. Through the mirror, you observe the soft flutter of his eyelids as his own end comes crashing into him.

He grinds forward, a throaty gasp escaping him as he stills.

There is a pause, a hanging in silence before Price eases up on your throat. He slides out of you and you whimper at the loss, but it is temporary. Price eases you down on the bed, your limbs almost giving out.

“Stay here,” he says.

Like you could go anywhere.

You run a hand over your face, twisting slightly to look over your shoulder. Price tosses the condom into the trash bin and then grabs a couple items off the shelf. He deposits them on the bed.

“Open for me,” he says, and you do. He begins cleaning you between your legs with one hand while the other gently rubs the muscles in your thighs.

You lay there, starting to relax, chest no longer heaving from the exertion. He tosses what he needs to in the trash, and then he’s sliding back into the bed, drawing you close to him.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” you murmur.

Price settles in, keeping you against his side. “We only have a few minutes like this.”

“I know,” you reply, suddenly feeling a slight tug of disappointment.

What the fuck. What the actual fuck did you do? Why do you keep torturing yourself like this? Why do you keep going, and sliding up to Price every chance you get? Why did you fall into his arms so easily?

You know the answer. You’re weak, and the attention is nice. That’s it. That’s all this can be. All you’re after is a bit of attention. That’s what you tell yourself, because the simmering truth is beast you don’t want to face.

Price rests his hand on your back, and you place yours on his chest, relaxing in his arms for a few minutes until he finally squeezes your hand in quiet signal.

“I’ll go first,” he murmurs, and you catch the slight tremor in the way he says it, like the words are painful for him. “Wait a couple minutes after me.” Price brushes a strand of hair out of your face, then his thumb rubs across your cheekbone. His thumb falls to your lip, and it is then that Price leans in to place a kiss there before drawing away and heading to the door.

He pauses before opening it, glancing back at you before exiting.

Not even a goodbye. Sure, Price. Whatever.

You stay on the bed, counting the seconds until you find the fortitude to sit up and stand on wobbly legs. You stare at the door, smoothing and resmoothing the front of your dress. You have to go out there. You have to.

Taking a deep breath, you somehow drag up the courage, pushing down on the handle and stepping out into the VIP room. The red lights stain everything, and Olivia still lingers at the pole. Price is back in his old spot while Dimitri and his companions laugh and pour vodka into glasses.

The best thing for you to do is to leave, and to do so quietly.

As you head for the main door that leads out into the hall, you notice Price’s gaze momentarily tracking you. Dimitri says something to, and by the look on his face, you know it’s something repulsively snarky. Yet it’s muffled, and you don’t catch anything he says, but you do hear Price.

“I’d say she’s mine now,” he snaps, breaking his connection to you to stare Dimitri down.

You nearly trip off the edge of the raised platform when you hear the unhinged growl in Price’s tone. Dimitri barks a laugh but you’re not interested in staying in the same room as the man.

Before you step through the curtain, you glance back and notice Price watching you again. You’re not sure what you see there. It’s not sadness, but something else.

A quiet contemplation.

A consideration.

But this is only tonight. It is not forever or even for another day.

You need to remember that.

Shoving it down, you swallow the bitterness until you feel nothing.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @wrathofcats @keiva1000 @tapioca-marzipan @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppixie @bbyfimmie @kittytiddywinks @berarenado @daemondoll @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21

[tellmeallaboutit]

what is the deal with Hope?

All I know of her is the "cRaZy LaDy" you can ally with in the House of Hope level. Does she have any extra details to her story besides being Raphael's prisoner and Korrilla's sister? (in your opinion, if not in canon!)

Holy moly, Hope is something quite complicated indeed. Hope, first of all, is a product of scrapped original writing / creative redirections / House of Hope re-makings.

It’s extremely hard to analyze her because there are mixed signals in all possible directions. I’ll give the main three. All IMHO / headcanon.

1. Hope as a Concept / Poetical Allegory

Probably the original intention. Hope as some incorruptible entity, a concept, that Raphael stole and tried to destroy as a long-winded poetic metaphor and failed to do so.

2. Hope as a person

Hope is also a real dwarven cleric and the sister of Korilla. So, in this version, at one point Raphael thought “oh, neat name, so metaphorical, wanna serve me?”, Hope was like “nope, get fucked”, and then the only logical course of action for a lawful evil character was to throw respect for consent and rules out of the window, kidnap her, chain her in his basement, threaten her, torture her, subject her to some form of sexual assault (unclear what happened there or who did that, but something that deeply unsettled Hope and caused her to describe sexual acts she witnessed in a very disturbing manner).

Yeah, don’t ask me. I am pretty sure that goes against anything devils are supposed to stand for with actual trickery and seduction and gradual corruption. I guess the thought there was “devils only pretend to care about consent and be civil but look at what this guy is doing behind closed doors”. Behind closed doors, he threatens to drench a kidnapped girl in the intestines of a kid. Very edgelordy, Raph.

3. Hope as a romantic / sexual interest

At one point of development, it seemed like there was a sexual connotation in their relationship aka he wanted her as a woman aka an actual sexual creep locking an unwilling woman in his basement.

Clues: “taming hope” with lines like “he looks at her with such hatred and longing”, and also data-mined taming hope volume 3 where she actually refers to him as "flaccid horned-fuck" and his maggoty tongue in her ear, Raphael referring to himself as a hopeless romantic. The “hope ahaha such a tease” line also seems sexual as such context. I think the boudoir line (where Hope says she has been there, but not on her own will) was created during this stage, and then in act 3 chaos it was just left there because why not.

All in all, Hope writing is indeed a hot mess. She was supposed to symbolize how predatory, corrupt and rotten inside Raphael is, but the delivery of this story was rehashed so many times it fell really flat. I like the general idea of Hope, I think it could have been great, but the execution fell on the nose and is still lying there whimpering. I think my personal main take away from Hope story that Raph is obsessive, doesn’t really give a shit about consent (only on a extremely formal put your signature here or die level) and has strong yandere vibes.

Thank you for your ask ❤️

[chaifootsteps]

Blitz is the closest to a morally grey character Viv has and she still fumbled him

instead of focusing on how he treats Moxxie or his relationship with Barbie (F in the chat for her character development)

the closest the show can manage for him being a bad person is that he has had casual sex with a lot of people and not wanted a relationship with them?

even with Verosika - Blitz was in the wrong for stealing her credit cards and taking off, but the show in s1 allowed his relationship with her to have some nuance. like it was implied he wasn't the only one causing problems because she was an alcoholic, though it's unclear when exactly that started (plus her succubi assaulted Moxxie, but that was obviously another Sir Pent joke in hindsight)

it could still have come down that Blitz messed up first and worse, but Verosika in s1 was allowed to have dimension and be petty and even really cruel. the show wasn't so obsessed with spoonfeeding its viewer about who the bad one and who the good one was in a scenario

also like, the credit card thing is bad but Blitz isn't automatically in the wrong for not being ready to say 'I love you' to someone. but this show doesn't really like the idea that people work at different speeds, especially people with trauma. we're just supposed to judge Blitz for being emotionally 'further behind' in his view of his relationship (if we're calling it that) than Stolas is, even though Stolas was delusional about what was going on from day one and has only gotten worse

It's so incredibly frustrating. The show loudly insists that Blitzo is a toxic, abusive monster who hurts everyone around him...not because he threatened to rape his employees or stole his ex's credit card and sent her into debt, hell no. It's because he's ~bad at intimacy,~ especially the intimacy his wealthy sexual abuser quote unquote deserves.

[shadowcanine]

a deep dive into the raul brasil school massacre.

as always, more information will be below the cut. this post is for educational, research, and awareness purposes only.

On March 13th, 2019, two students walked into their former school- Professor Raul Brasil State School, located in the municipality of Suzano, São Paulo State, Brazil.

The students, 17 year-old Guilherme Taucci Monteiro, born July 5th, 2001, and 25 year-old Luiz Henrique de Castro, born March 16th, 1993, had planned this for well over the better part of a year. It was 9:40 AM, and for the students at Raul Brasil, the day was just getting started. For Guilherme and Luiz, though, they were at the finish line.

Before arriving at the school, the two had shot and killed Guilherme’s uncle at the rental car shop, which he owned; that car shop was also where they stole the car they used to get to school that morning. Monteiro had previously worked for his uncle at this car shop, but had been fired for “petty crimes.”

When they arrived, they were armed with a gun (.38 caliber handgun), crossbows, and axes, as well as molotov cocktails and a handful of small knives. According to those who knew them, the pair had a “deep fascination with Columbine” and hoped to “emulate” it. Friends and former classmates were told about these plans, but claim they “didn’t believe it would actually happen” and those who did believe it kept their mouth shut, “afraid telling anybody would make them a target.”

Taucci and Luiz wanted to prove they could act like Eric and Dylan, the perpetrators behind the 1999 massacre at Columbine Highschool in Littleton, CO. They had goals of being even more well-known than the Columbine killers.

Allegedly, an unnamed 17 year old student was involved in planning the attack- although he was not present at school the day of. Police have asked a judge to issue a warrant for the teens arrest, (but it’s unclear whether or not anything has come of that request, five years later.)

Security camera footage captures Taucci and Luiz walking into the school. Taucci can be seen on CCTV shooting, and hitting several people in the head. Luiz can then be seen following him, attacking wounded, but still alive, students with an axe; “swinging it wildly” through the crowds of students who were attempting to flee the scene.

Luiz aims his crossbow, walking further into the school- and disappearing from the view of security cameras.

It would later be announced that seven people had been killed in the attack- 9 had died in total. 5 students, 1 teachers, and 1 school administrator (who police suspect to be the first to be killed.) 9 people were wounded in the attack, including 7 who were still hospitalized days later. One student was forced to run to the hospital nearby with an axe still lodged in his right shoulder.

After their killing spree, police were quickly closing in. Rather than facing authorities head on, Taucci turned the gun on his partner, Luiz- killing him. He then took his own life.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

why did they do it?

Firstly, Taucci and Luiz were copycats; plain and simple. They wanted the fame and notoriety that Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold have.

Rumors did circulate about Taucci being bullied and dropping out of school over it, but sources claim this was pretty much irrelevant to the attack. The bullying wasn’t severe by any means, allegedly it was primarily focused on Taucci’s acne. State officials say the boys never showed any problems during their time in school.

Taucci had been raised by his grandmother, as a result of his mothers “addiction problems.” Taucci is considered the “leader” of the two, as he’s the one who originally formulated the plan. Luiz was described as a quiet kid who kept to himself, which has led the public to believe this was a “leader-follower” type of scenario. If it is, it’s still unclear how Taucci managed to rope Luiz into this. The boys had been friends since childhood, playing video games and visiting the local arcade together.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

was there any criticism after the attack?

As with any tragedy, the public wants to blame the perpetrators- however, if the perpetrators are gone, the public will tend to target the people who made the tragedy possible in one way or another.

Brasil’s former right-wing president, Mr. Bolsonaro, (a president surrounded by accusations of political manipulation, buyouts, and more) had recently passed a law making the acquisition of firearms significantly easier. Gun violence is extremely common in Brasil, though school shootings are relatively rare, with only a handful of documented cases existing in modern times.

Because of this law being passed, many Brazilians blamed him for the tragedy at Raul Brasil. However, many others brought up the possibility of making sure all staff were armed, in order to better protect their students. However, nothing ever really came from this debate, as the law stayed in place, and staff remained unarmed (that we know of.)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Rest In Peace to the victims who tragically lost their lives on 03/13/2019 at Raul Brasil School. Que onde quer que você esteja, a vida o trate melhor do que o tratou esta vida.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

# Hello! Thanks for reading. I’m really sorry this deep dive isn’t as long as my Cokeville one (view here)- I did do my best to find all the information I could, but this case has been pretty hard to find anything on. I also tried to find a memorial photo of the victims to include so I could do a writeup on who they were as people, but I can’t seem to find anything.

# This was requested by somebody, once again- so if you learned something new, you can thank them. If I’m able to find any photos of the victims at any point, or other information that I think should be here, I’ll edit the post to include it.

# I also did add a translation for the first photo, if you click on the alt text you’ll be able to see it. I think adding context to the photos via alt text is probably a somewhat decent idea, so I’m gonna try to do that more! Again, thanks for reading :D

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[avayarising]

Deaths of Tim Drake

Part of the Batfam Death Project.

Unfortunately, Tim is wrong. At the time of the above panel (Robin War 1, 2015), Tim had died twice. To be fair, though, this being New 52 where Tim was never even actually Robin, they have presumably unhappened or, at least, been forgotten. (However, current canon is that all timelines have happened, so they still count.)

Tim has died three times and visited an afterlife once, if only barely. There are also a further three occasions when he might have arguably died, though it is not shown on panel.

Total time dead: a few days.

Verifiable deaths

1. Killed by the Joker (Emperor Joker, 2000)

Tim was killed by the Joker after Joker stole reality-altering powers from Mxyzptlk and remade the universe to his liking.

By the look of his corpse he was shot several times in the chest, possibly with a machine-gun.

Time dead: At least a few days. By the look of the corpses, Dick died before Tim – his body is noticeably more bloated – but neither has been dead more than about a week or two. On the other hand, Joker has powers over reality here, so he could have them appear at whatever stage of decomposition he wants.

2. Drowned in Blüdhaven (Robin 2:145, 2006)

Tim drowned in a water attack by a villain called Monsoon during an attack on Blüdhaven by a large number of meta villains, just hours before Blüdhaven was bombed by Chemo.

He was resuscitated by Laura Fell, the Warlock’s Daughter (his school friend Darla returned from the dead), who says she used CPR (the resuscitation is not shown on-page).

Of course, the person who gave her the CPR that didn’t help when she died was Tim, so that’s a hell of a thing to bring up just now.

Time dead: unclear, but probably in the order of minutes – Laura is grabbing him and pulling him out as he’s losing consciousness, so it can’t be long.

3. Electrocuted by Evil Future Tim (Detective Comics 1:966–967, 2017)

Tim’s Evil Future Batman Self (pulled from the future by Dr Oz) helped Tim escape Dr Oz’s extradimensional prison, where they were both imprisoned. When they got back to Gotham, Evil Future Batman Tim incapacitated Red Robin Tim with a powerful electric shock so he could go and kill Batwoman without interference.

Tim staggered to a nearby hospital, removing the more recognisable parts of his Red Robin outfit (which at this point in time actually looks just like his Robin outfit) on the way, and collapsed in the doorway. His heart stopped and he had to be revived by defibrillation.

Time dead: a minute or two at most.

Bonus extra deaths

(Implied, inferrable, ambiguous and arguable deaths)

1. Possibly died briefly during his splenectomy (Red Robin 5, 2009)

As Red Robin, Tim got stabbed in the spleen, and almost died from blood loss. He was picked up and treated by the League of Assassins, and woke up next to a Lazarus Pit. He was told, however, that he had not been resurrected, nor been submerged in the Pit for healing, but had only undergone surgery.

That may be so. It still leaves open the possibility that Tim did briefly die on the operating table and was resuscitated by more normal medical processes. It’s also possible that the White Ghost was lying by omission and, even if Tim wasn’t submerged in the Pit, some Lazarus Water was involved in the operation.

Time dead: Maybe a minute or two, if anything.

2. Arguably died when he was shot by a hundred drones at once (Detective Comics 1:940, 2016)

Jacob Kane (Batwoman’s dad and Bruce’s maternal uncle) had a plan to take out members of the League of Shadows (an offshoot of the League of Assassins) with targeted drone strikes. But the drones would have potentially killed a lot of other people too. Unable to actually disable the drones, Tim managed to hack them and reprogram them to all fire on him instead.

This was absolutely suicide, and it absolutely would have killed him had Dr Oz not spirited him away to his extradimensional prison. But you could argue that Tim did actually die at this point. Did he get transported just before the drones hit, or did his body get disintegrated and then reconstituted from his soul (which would count as death) in the prison?

Against the former, surely it wouldn’t have been hard for the other Bats to spot if his body had disappeared a millisecond before the lasers hit, and the panel appears to show his body beginning to disintegrate. Tim remembers the missiles hitting him.

On the other hand, when Tim manifests in the prison he is still as injured as he was before, with a swollen cheek and a bloody nose, and you’d think if his body was reformed it would come back fully healed.

Dr Oz’s answer is ambiguous.

Time dead: unclear. If he died at all, it was probably for moments.

3. Probably died in Death Metal along with everyone else (Death Metal 7, 2021)

Tim probably died in battle when the Dark Multiverse invaded and destroyed all the worlds of the multiverse. All the remaining heroes came together in a hopeless fight against an army of their worst nightmares, including an apparently never-ending swarm of groblins (mindless evil Jokerised Robins led by the Robin King, an evil child Bruce Robin).

Tim’s death isn’t shown on panel and neither is his dead body, but he is definitely in the group of Bats standing ready to fight (left, next to Spoiler):

As with Cass, Tim is likely to have died here, but he could have just been fighting elsewhere when we see Evil Child Bruce Robin taunt Batman over the fact that everyone is dead. In any case, everyone is fine again when Wonder Woman persuades the Creators to remake the multiverse.

Time dead: unclear; might be up to an hour, or longer if it takes longer to remake the world.

Afterlife visits

1. Pulled to the edge of the Abyss (Young Justice 1:19, 1999)

So apparently one of Greta’s (Secret’s) powers is the ability to create a portal to the Abyss – a rather horrific realm of the dead – within herself. She basically gathers people into herself to pull them in to the afterlife. She can also use this power to teleport/transport people by taking them through the Abyss – though it is not pleasant. She does this for Young Justice when Mount Justice blows up with them all inside it. In Greta’s internal portal, they experience falling into darkness, being burnt up, and being frozen and shattered. All the time, Greta is laughing cruelly.

And then they get spat out into a forest in the rain.

Greta is at pains to insist that she didn’t actually take them in to the Abyss itself, just the edge of it within herself. But it was still obviously absolutely nightmarish for all of them.

Time in in Greta’s internal afterlife portal: moments, or an eternity.

2. In the Abyss again (Young Justice 1:48, 2002)

Anita’s dad was tortured and left to die. Anita got there just too late, and then leapt into Greta’s internal afterlife portal to try and pull him out.

Ray and Slobo jumped in to get Anita back, and, after a little hesitation (unlike the others, he had been in before and knew the Horrors that awaited), Tim went in too.

Like last time, Tim experiences The Horrors, but Slobo (who says he has an understanding with death) stabilises him. They, with Ray, protect Anita from bat-monsters while she tries to reach her father.

Anita doesn’t get her dad back, but she does get to say goodbye to him. (This doesn’t help.) Everyone other than Anita’s dad is spat back out of Greta’s portal in the same place a short while after they left.

Time in Greta’s internal afterlife portal: a few minutes.

Batfam Death Project Masterpost

[yourlokalescholar]

Found this in my notes from months ago. Copy-pasting it here because it’s still funny to me

One of those “modern ancient gods” stories where everyone has forgotten what Loki’s the god of and they refuse to fucking tell anyone.

Hermes: “urgh yeah, I’ve had to give up a bunch of my domains to other gods since I ‘have too many’. Glad I’m still the trickster god tho” / MC: “what about Loki?? I just met them, I know they’re real too.” / Hermes: “oh yeah ofc. They’re not a trickster god lmao.”

Loki: “why does everyone think I hate humans?? I love you guys!” / Athena: “aha! So you’re… some kind of patron god of humanity? Of civilisation?” / Loki: “no lol that’s Heimdall. Good guess though <3” / Athena, vibrating with rage: “how the fuck did you say that out loud.”

MC: “so you’re supposed to know everything, right?” / Toth: “I do, yes.” / MC: “so you know Loki’s domain?!” / Toth: “…theoretically.”

It’s unclear which pantheons are real. Gods occasionally mention other gods outside of their pantheons, but it’s always like Loki or Hermes or some other untrustworthy god so it’s never clear if they’re taking the piss or not.

Hermes: “yeah, so Mercury was telling me the other day–“ / MC: “I thought you and Mercury were the same god??” / Hermes: “no? He’s Roman, keep up.” / MC: “but… almost all of the Roman gods are the same as Greek gods! There’s so much overlap there! How does that work?! Are there two Apollos!?” / Hermes: “wouldn’t you like to know”

Several different versions of almost every god exist simultaneously and paradoxically, because they pretty much become new characters every time their legends are told. Sometimes—but not always—differentiated by different spellings (eg. Dionysus and Dionisos)

Jesus is mentioned often (usually by Loki) but never appears. It is again unclear whether or not he exists

Actually I’ve decided Loki and Hermes are the most prominent gods in this story and it is a comedy

Dionysus and Thor are drinking buddies

I don’t know who the MC is. Presumably they’re saving the world. I don’t know why Hermes and Loki are the only ones helping

Actually wait. Idea: the gods are imprisoned somehow by someone and various versions of Hermes and Loki are the only guys slippery slimy enough to escape

Most of the Lokis ARE imprisoned as they are canonically, but since every version from every myth (presumably—again, none of them are quite sure which versions from which pantheons exist) exists simultaneously, this Loki happens to not be imprisoned yet. They insist they’ve actually just escaped, and it’s unclear if this is true or not

Actually no, Loki SPECIFICALLY is the main god, and Hermes is known to have also escaped and just shows up every so often. He doesn’t like to stay still. Sometimes it’s very clearly a different Hermes, but apart from his appearance he is always exactly the same. Sometimes it’s the one-day-old baby that stole Apollo’s cattle

So, the extent of the worldbuilding so far is: all versions of every god from every pantheon presumably exist, but it’s impossible to tell WHICH ones specifically, or how they’re created, or how far this extends (eg. The modernish satan Loki interpretation exists despite not being from the original Norse myths). The gods are all imprisoned by someone, but Loki and Hermes and probably other gods escape, but one Loki specifically ends up in the MC’s house. The main reason they’re helping is because without Idun’s apples they’re mortal

[inkdemonapologist]

[BatIM Cthulhu] MORE CTHULHU SCRIBBLES, this time from session 4!! Here we have, uh,

The yellow fog that's taking over New York seems to be able to hijack people and make them think they're one of the characters from the King in Yellow play. Susie DID get brainwashed but we're unclear on whether the knife-twirling skills were there already. IT JUST WOULDNT SURPRISE ME, U KNOW?

AVEDONS HERE??????? If you don't remember Avedon i dont blame you, he last showed up back in seASON 2, in NOLA, where he lost his mind and locked Sammy and Jack in his closet at gunpoint and then started shooting the host at the masquerade party. He seems a little more sane this go round but everyone decided Sammy and Jack should not be in the welcoming party. Anyway sorry NYC is like this for your visit Avedon, I promise there's usually less dread carcosa

Sammy brought Prophet out to see if he could tell whether or not Peter is THE ONE THE PHANTOM SEEKS and Prophet decided to make sure he was getting an accurate reading by smooshing his hands all over Peter's face. Don't worry about it, Peter!! It's fine. Normal Sammy Behaviour.

And if you'd like some Out of Context quotes from our session, those are under the cut!

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] *recapping* Joey tried to do some bullshit, and it, uh, made things worse! [GM] It got some attention, it seems! [Joey] EHhhhhhhhh, [Sammy] Yeah, he was doing his nonsense, and then the Phantom showed up because he was doing his nonsense -- [Joey] ehhhhhhhhhhh [Sammy] And then we hit the Phantom with Jack's car! A rational and reasonable response to the unknowable. [Jack] Joey MADE Jack hit the Phantom with his car. [Joey] EHHHHHHHHH, [Jack] Because Jack wouldn't do this on purpose. He likes his car! [Sammy] I think that's entirely reasonable. No reasonable person would have done this course of events.

[Sammy] What happens if you drive a car in Carcosa [Sammy] It's in the name, it should be a good place for cars... [Jack] It actually cancels out because there's two of them, so you just get "Cosa."

[Joey] One of the times, the Mercedes is going to be missing and it's not because of Yellow Sign stuff, it's just that someone finally stole it. [Sammy] Car gets its tires slashed, "THIS IS THE WORK OF THE YELLOW KING!!!"

[Jack] Even if it's safety glass, I feel like Jack doesn't want to sit in a bunch of glass! [Henry] Exfoliation. [Jack] ON HIS BUTT????

[Joey] Just venting about everything that has been happening, but it's clearly all this other guy's fault? [Sammy] I love Joey having no particular distinction between "annoying person who's getting in the way of me making cartoons" and "eldritch entity" - WHICH IS THE SAME THING, it's just an annoying person who's getting in the way of making cartoons! [Joey] YEAH!!

[Sammy] Jack struck me as someone who'd be a cautious driver. [GM] And he let Sammy drive his car?!

[Joey] It's taking Joey a little longer to finish his ritual, because he keeps getting angry and ranting more, [Sammy] "*draws one line* AND ANOTHER THING--!"

[GM] Avedon says you need to watch out for each other, because something's already messing with Norman -- [Joey] what, wAIT-- WHAT? [GM] --and he needs you guys to come find him, he's at this hotel, and he thinks he knows how to destroy the Phantom. [Joey] Have you called Norman? [GM] He says, "Where do you think I got this number?" And then he hangs up. [Joey] .................................................................. [Sammy/Jack/Henry] *IMMEDIATELY LOSING IT* [Jack] *still cracking up* H-how, how mad is Joey right now, [Joey] ...........................I need to look something up.

[Joey] I know way too much about, the history of phone technologies now, [Sammy] This game is educational. Nobody tells you that.

[Joey] What is up with your crazy friend?! [Norman] You're going to have to be more specific.

[Joey] Wait, DID you get a call from Avedon? [GM] Norman says that he got word from The Advisor earlier. [Jack].... Hm. [Sammy] Norman??????? [Joey] ...iS SUSIE STILL THERE, [GM] Uh, yeah! He hands over the phone. [Joey] IS SHE NORMAL????????????????? [GM] She likes to think so!

[Joey] Nobody's going to let Peter choose his own methods of communication, he just gets to RECEIVE [Sammy] Look! He was warned!!

[GM] Peter's glancing at Jack like, is this concerning? [Jack] Well Jack looks CONCERNED, but he's not concerned about this, specifically. This is refreshingly normal.

[Sammy] And the Traitor mercifully absent! [Jack] I know you said "traitor", but I heard "trader," like no that's a different AU, [Joey] Oh good. No Wandering Traders. [everyone makes villager "Hrrrm" noises] [Sammy] Prophet's ALSO murdering llamas for leads, [Jack] I mean, we could do with a lead about now! I don't know if we have any other than Avedon. [Joey] *uncontrollably giggling at this joke for the next 15 seconds* [Sammy] Oh boy, [Joey] *still giggling* iT WAS A REALLY gOOD ONE,,,

[Joey] Does Jack's car look any different to Henry? [Jack] Well there's a weird splat mark in the shape of a guy,

[Sammy] Be vigilant! His will can overtake your own. [Henry] Hm,,, you too,

[GM] Does anyone want to do a summary of where we were at? [Jack] I have an extremely short summary: [Jack] Shit's Fucked.

[Sammy] Avedon told us to meet him because THE WORLD IS IN PERIL [Sammy] which, I think it's really important to remember that Avedon is French, when you imagine him saying the word "peril." That's all.

[Sammy] It's not TOO late to visit people, but it is maybe an awkward time to-- [Jack] When has awkward timing EVER stopped this-- [Sammy] NEVER. It's never stopped us. [Henry] I think it would be weirder if we arrived at an opportune time, at this point! [Joey] It IS a great time for a snake to show up, I feel like. [Sammy] That's true. It's never a wrong time for a snake to show up, honestly.

[Joey] Enough time has passed that Joey will come out to the parking lot. [Sammy] I really thought you were gonna say "come out to the party" [Jack] Joey's coming out? [GM] *laughing* I think they already know!

[Joey] Also, Norman has started acting very weird. [Henry] How? [Joey] You know how, sometimes people start saying things, in situations like this, where they think... [Joey]...yOU KNOW HOW PROPHET DESCRIBES PEOPLE?

[Jack] I can't believe you're splitting up the boyfriends! [Jack] ...as compared to the other boyfriends, [Sammy] I feel like it's really hard to split this party without splitting up some boyfriends somewhere.

[GM] Jack doesn't want to drive and Sammy doesn't know where he's going - ✨TEAMWORK!✨ :D

[Jack] You go through all of Henry's coats and none of them are familiar, and they're all extremely stylish [Henry] That's not Carcosa, that's Joey.

[Jack] Oh no, his accent's Italian now! [Sammy] That's just what happens when you come to New York.

[GM] Make a sanity check. [Henry] For looking at a clarinet???

[Henry] Henry is... maybe taking a closer look out the window. [Sammy] I support him. I'm not there, but I support him-- [Henry] Then, yeah, I'm gonna say he's doing that! [Sammy] --from afar, where I suffer no consequences.

[Henry] Henry has his hand on his gun. [Henry] ...he knows that he can't, like, SHOOT CARCOSA, but, [Jack] Carcosa's haunted.

[Joey] I actually succeeded the luck check! [Sammy] Congratulations, that's a feat for Joey! [Jack] It's his natural talent.

[Henry] I wish I had the words to describe the face Henry is making. [Henry] If Scared and Defeated had a baby.

[GM] Avedon turns around, looking wild-eyed behind his glasses, and says, because he is the master of smart things, "We need to get out of here!" [Joey] NO SHIT, SHERLOCK!

[GM] In fact, you think you hear conspiratorial whispering in the distance! [Henry] But our conspiratorial whisperer is accounted for...

[Joey] Joey's just going to march up behind them and ask what's going on. [GM] They are both going to jump to their feet, and bow, actually, [Sammy] Um. [Jack] Hmmmm. [Sammy] UM. [GM] and say, "we were just dealing with matters of State, Your Highness." [Joey] [Joey] *quiet giggling* [Jack] Oh no. [Sammy] Joey doesn't need this. Joey doesn't need this. [Jack] His ego's already so big!!

[Sammy] You're going to open the door and the Phantom's gonna be standing there. [Henry] "Want some weed?"

[Joey] Avedon can stay with Norman. They're friends. [Sammy] I don't-- we'll see how Norman is. [Joey] I mean, I don't think, no matter what, that Norman can be weirder than Avedon?

[GM] You can make a psychology roll, if you want! [Sammy] OKAY, we'll see, I'm not holding out a lot of hope on Sammy getting this-- [Sammy] *rolls* ....WELL. That is... an extreme success. I rolled a TWO. [Jack] Are we sure SAMMY hasn't been replaced? [Joey] Has Shazz been replaced? [Jack] Have Shazz's dice been replaced????

[Jack] Jack is probably trying to get... any.... information out of Norman, [Sammy] Sorry, I left you the hard mode one. [Joey] Kiss him!!