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whoever the oil has drowned by ewfte
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
11 May 2018
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Seconds slide past you and die in the warped colors of your eyes. You are timeless. You are out of time.
(A vaguely realistic take on the traps of time travel. And how absolute power corrupts absolutely.)
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memory of words by Drowninginworkbutstill
Fandoms: 백작가의 망나니가 되었다 - 유려한 | Lout of Count's Family | Trash of the Count's Family - Yulyeohan
13 Jul 2024
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"I don't think I've ever said this before, but I am proud of you.”
It was momentary, but Jang Se Jong’s expression shifted.
Kim Rok Soo continued, “Regardless of what anyone else says, you deserve to be in the vanguard position. You belong to Team One just like everyone else. You've been a great help to us."
“R-really?” Jang Se Jong asked in a hoarse whisper, his voice tear-stained.
Kim Rok Soo takes care of the maknae of Team One after he suffers from an Aberrant’s mental attack.
Series
- Part 91 of I ship Cale with everyone
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,352
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 3
- Comments:
- 8
- Kudos:
- 133
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- 22
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- 1,375
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“When did you have time to dupe the poor man into taking off his clothes?”
Han Yoojin flippantly said, “It was in a different time loop. Stop looking at me like that. It’s revolting.”
Sung Hyunje frowned— no, he pouted. “I never would have thought that Yoojin-gun was so cruel.”
“What’s wrong with your face?” Han Yoojin reached out and smashed his hand to cup Sung Hyunje’s cheek. “...Your skin is soft.”
Sung Hyunje's boring, repetitive day took a turn when he ran into an unknown variable.
Series
- Part 1 of hjyj brain rot
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 18,558
- Chapters:
- 5/5
- Comments:
- 126
- Kudos:
- 4,104
- Bookmarks:
- 818
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- 39,859
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genuinely one of my absolute favs
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to the future you by embers_in_the_fire
Fandoms: 내가 키운 S급들 - 근서 | S-Classes that I Raised - Geunseo
19 Dec 2023
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Summary
"Happy birthday, Yoohyun-ie. I'll always love you."
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Or, the collection of birthday messages Yoojin recorded and left for Yoohyun every year. (Until he couldn't, anymore.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,806
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 35
- Kudos:
- 675
- Bookmarks:
- 114
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- 3,613
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i genuinely cannot do this
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Summary
“Okie-dokes.” Kuroba shakes himself, and then turns to wave at the waiting group of suspects and witnesses with a reassuring smile. They stare blankly at him.
“They’re traumatized, Kaito-san.”
“I know. That’s why I’m being nice.”
Shinichi grabs Kuroba’s jacket and starts yanking him toward the group, ignoring his annoyed muttering. In Kuroba’s defense, he’s very good at looking reassuring. It’s just a lot less effective when he’s standing next to the corpse.
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When a magician seemingly murders an audience member in the middle of a show, no one but Conan can even begin to figure out all the tricks of this case. Naturally, Megure talks to Nakamori, who recommends the one and only magic expert that he knows: Kuroba Kaito.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 22,016
- Chapters:
- 3/3
- Collections:
- 8
- Comments:
- 203
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- 1,848
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- 619
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- 15,669
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Shinichi is drawn to details. Always has been. He’s a detail-oriented person, sometimes to a fault, always overwhelmed by the little things, because the little things give him the greater answer. Because the little things keep him alive, long past when he’s supposed to be dead, with his head caved in on the concrete edge of an amusement park.
First, light. The regular lighting was restored to the theater after the police arrived, so the ceiling lights are on, and the stage lights are off. A thin beam of light comes from a door beyond the wings—a quick glance reveals that it leads outside, likely to some sort of loading area for larger props.
Second, dust. The stage was swept before the show, but dust has begun to lightly settle on the floorboards again. The wood is old, the stage is probably just as old. The newer venue was likely built around it, a theater of Theseus. There are pale dust patterns on the curtains where they fold, faded pink in places where the red fabric has been exposed to stage lighting for too many years. There aren’t any footprints to note, but the dust isn’t as thick in the center or the left side of the stage.
Third, anything out of place. Despite Endou’s claim of a wire trick in the rafters, there’s no sign of it anywhere above. He’ll have to check backstage with Kuroba later. The floorboards are loose with old warping, so much so that it’s a miracle Endou didn’t trip during his show. The curtains are a hair fraction off-center, but that can be explained by the relative newness of the staff. There is no organic material onstage that Shinichi can find, not even hair. There’s some residue near the center that marks some familiar tricks—the sort of faint dark smudges left behind by smoke and flash bombs. Scratches mar the wood where equipment has been dragged around. A single wire lies abandoned on the stage, unclipped, snaking down below the back curtain.
Kuroba, for his part, flits around the stage like a hyperactive butterfly. Or maybe a particularly fluttery bird, with the way he tilts his head at every curious sight. He’s entirely comfortable up here, paying the watching audience no mind, even as their eyes track him and Shinichi both. At one point, he even waves to the little girl he gave the flower to. She waves back. Both of them ignore the corpse of Hirai Yuka, who is lying, throat exposed, in the second row.
Shinichi can’t quite figure out what Kuroba is looking for. It must be something specific. He’s got an expression of scrunched-nose focus on his face that looks, for some reason, incorrect—like it’s not how his face actually looks when he’s concentrating, but the emotion underneath is the same. A mask of a feeling to obscure the same feeling, entirely purposeless.
Kuroba’s eyes track the ceiling and the wings of the stage, slowly, looking at something only he can see. He shakes the curtains, waves his hands in the air, and at one point even flips over into a handstand, like he’ll be able to see better upside-down. Fluttery, flighty. Butterflies and birds.
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Summary
His throat goes dry. “You would have done that.” He inhales sharply. “You would have done what happened on stage. Do you—do you realise how fucking frustrating that makes everything? That in some ridiculous, parallel reality all this love you have for me would have killed you?”
Ivan, Till, and love.
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The crux is this: when even he has to embrace change, Ivan remains the same. Till goes to lengths, he does, and he doesn't see Ivan on stage at all; his voice is there and so is his touch and face, but to be loved is to be seen, and Ivan there—the one who had a bullet pierce through his skin—got neither. It’s how the story goes, a tragedy of its own. He lashed out and screamed and shouted and pushed Ivan away, because that’s how it’s supposed to be, and Ivan, all-knowing and all-accepting and unconditional in his love wherever he goes, he accepted it because before that being just how he is, it’s how the story plays him.
And does that not complicate things? All Till sees is his face, sees him crumple to the ground and blood seep out of him like a cascade, sees him kiss Till like the end of the world, sees him dead. It doesn't leave his head and all he can do is hold him alive because he's almost convinced that even his heart beats Till’s name. He wishes it didn't, but Ivan has said it before—To me, the most liberating thing in this whole universe will always be loving you like I've wanted to all my life—because he’s really that cheesy.
But that's where it becomes easier to distinguish: Till sees Ivan, sees him everywhere he goes, in everything he does, because all he knows is how to hold him in his gaze and offer everything that remains of his own heart; it may not beat out Ivan’s name, but it does know how to love. It will simply have to do.
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Summary
When exactly does human connection start?
For Park Moondae, it begins when it finds him in the middle of a warm, sunny day on the set of an idol survival show he’d much rather call hell.
TeSTAR loves Park Moondae. He's in denial.
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It’s suffocating, he thinks, how they have so much trust in him without knowing the amount of lies he’s spouted to them. How one day, he might disappear entirely as if he never existed in the first place. Because he isn’t supposed to be here.
He’s not Park Moondae.
But… it would be okay, right? To live in this lie, indulge in it a little bit—to continue playing house. Even if it burns holes in his heart and alarms ring in his ears, if he could chase this fake sense of security for a millisecond and luxuriate in his delusions, maybe it would be enough. Enough to ease the evergrowing selfishness that exists within him. Enough to tell himself that he’s fine with how things are; how he isn’t sure if TeSTAR’s future will have him inside of it.
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When the dreams started coming, George didn't know what else to do.
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"This is a good place, George," he said quietly. "You can tell. You can feel it, can't you, George?" He turned back to the window, pressing his broad hands against the cool glass. His face was serene.
"It is a good place," George agreed.
"You'll like it here," Lennie said, "When you come to stay."
"Yeah," George murmured. "Yeah."
"Then you can stop feelin' bad 'bout sendin' me here alone."
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Summary
When Damian is nine, and his mother is visiting him for a fortnight, his mother brings someone to the compound where they live.
The stranger is tall, and strong, and injured.
His mother isn't showing it, not to anyone who doesn't know her, but she's worried.
Series
- Part 4 of Alley Business
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,574
- Chapters:
- 2/2
- Collections:
- 3
- Comments:
- 35
- Kudos:
- 1,528
- Bookmarks:
- 87
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- 10,716
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Tim and Stephanie stage a rescue for Red Hood. Only to find that things are a lot worse than they thought.
Eyes flare in the dark.
Two pinpricks of acidic green that glimmer like oil-slick, like cat eyes. Jason steps out into the dim light, slow and predatory. There’s blood splattered on his face, speckling his white streak. It curtains his chin and streaks across his chest and arms. Every single step he takes smears it on the cold floor.
WHUMPTOBER No. 27 PUSHED TO THE LIMIT
Muffled Screams| Stumbling | Magical ExhaustionSeries
- Part 27 of outrunning karma (whumptober '22)
- Part 1 of molten & ash
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 5,699
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 6
- Comments:
- 70
- Kudos:
- 2,592
- Bookmarks:
- 438
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- 25,403
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Red Hood looks out for Crime Alley. Crime Alley looks out for Red Hood.
(A collection of snapshots.)
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 11,333
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 18
- Comments:
- 156
- Kudos:
- 4,679
- Bookmarks:
- 1,482
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- 37,721
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one way ticket by orphan_account
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood: Lost Days, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010)
21 Jul 2023
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Summary
“Have you ever considered changing your name and moving to Mexico?” was Jason’s first words when Talia answered the door.
She stared at him blankly for a moment.
Post UTRH, Jason goes to Talia to take a nap and maybe some xanax. He ends up being asked (see: blackmailed) into taking Damian to meet Bruce instead.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 8,892
- Chapters:
- 3/6
- Collections:
- 4
- Comments:
- 72
- Kudos:
- 693
- Bookmarks:
- 162
- Hits:
- 7,185
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A Nice Night in Trenton by chucklesbuckles
Fandoms: Red Hood: Lost Days, Batman (Comics)
14 Sep 2022
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Summary
“What the fuck?” Bobby wheezes, struggling in the ropes holding him fast.
The man turns, slowly, only his creepy white lenses and mask over his mouth visible. “Oh good,” he purrs, setting the camera on the old trunk Bobby uses as a coffee table. “You’re awake. Was beginning to think I’d be here for hours.”
Series
- Part 1 of In His Villain Era
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 2,534
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 4
- Comments:
- 62
- Kudos:
- 898
- Bookmarks:
- 158
- Hits:
- 5,278
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not supposed to bleed this way by valkyriered
Fandoms: DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
19 Jun 2023
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Summary
Jason comes home smelling like smoke.
Not cigarette smoke, not smoke like a-truck-caught-on-fire smoke. He smells like a campfire and meat that had been burnt to a char.
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Annabeth and the Nine Step Career Plan by feeling_the_aster_9145
Fandoms: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types
25 Jul 2023
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Summary
Annabeth Chase does not accept limitations. Everyone knows that. If she wants something, no matter how impossible, she will find a way to make it happen. Though, perhaps she will allow Bruce Wayne and his ridiculous paranoia-induced company restrictions a small portion of the credit.
Actually… now that she thinks about it, the man may have had a point in his worries.
Wayne Technologies does not accept college interns. Annabeth always has a plan B.
Series
- Part 1 of The Art of Mortal Quests
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 60,673
- Chapters:
- 10/10
- Collections:
- 55
- Comments:
- 1,611
- Kudos:
- 11,078
- Bookmarks:
- 2,725
- Hits:
- 148,788
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She starts another, about the most recent hike she and Shel have been on. Twelve miles up, with a gradient not fit for the faint of heart, but the most incredible views make the journey worth it, Piper says. Annabeth is leaning over the table, as Piper swipes through photos of her and her girlfriend at the peak, hair blowing in the mountain wind, when Annabeth feels her phone buzz. Distantly, she hears several other devices in the establishment go off at the same time.
She leans back with an apology, and clicks on the offending notification, one from the Daily Planet. She only has to wait a moment for her phone to translate the article.
LEX LUTHOR FROM RAGS TO RICHES: A TALE TAINTED BY MURDER
By Clark Kent and Lois Lane
Alexander ‘Lex’ Luthor, the city’s well-known benefactor wasn’t always the man he is known to be today. Growing up in Southside Metropolis, infamously dubbed the ‘suicide slums,’ Luthor hasn’t always had the lavish lifestyle he currently flaunts. Following the death of his parents and the inheritance of a rather large life insurance policy, Luthor has built himself and his company, LexCorp, up to the tech giant that it is today. However, behind this rags-to-riches success story, lies a horrific secret.
Recently uncovered evidence suggests the car crash that killed Lionel and Lillian Luthor was no accident and paints the surviving Luthor as the culprit. While the source of these documents shall remain unnamed for safety and security reasons, the credibility has been thoroughly vetted by the Daily Planet.
“It’s my firm belief that [Lionel] Luthor did not fill out that insurance claim himself,” an anonymous source said, “And just a few days later, the car runs straight into a truck leaving [Lex Luthor] with a couple hundred grand? I don’t think so.”
The following documents show…
Annabeth is aware of her lips twitching as she reads through, however much she tries to stop them. She can also feel Piper’s curious eyes fixated on her, but she ignores them and plows through the article at unprecedented speed. She’ll have time for a more thorough dive later.
Once she’s finished, she looks up at Piper with an unnaturally pleased smile. The other girl extends her arm and opens and closes her hand in a ‘gimme’ gesture. Annabeth hands her the phone.
It’s even more satisfying to watch her friend read it, the way Piper’s jaw drops a little at the title and then continues to hang lower and lower with every passing sentence. When she finishes, Piper places the phone gingerly back on the table and slides it over.
“Isn’t that your boss?” she hisses in Greek, looking around.
Other restaurant patrons are also glued to their phones, exchanging similar expressions of horror and disbelief with their dining partners, and texting furiously.
“Not for long.”
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Summary
Jason Todd awoke one morning from troubled dreams and found himself transformed into a monstrous—
No. God, he wished.
Metamorphosis, he could have handled. An easy fix. Hell, magic insect transformation was practically an everyday occurrence, in Gotham.
Just… not in this Gotham.
***
Jason Todd awakes one morning in a Gotham that “doesn’t like chaos”, and finds his feet.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 39,300
- Chapters:
- 19/?
- Collections:
- 8
- Comments:
- 766
- Kudos:
- 1,086
- Bookmarks:
- 322
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- 22,495
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“Yeah, well.” That was… probably true, but Jason’s patriotism was piqued. The Alley was his, now more than ever. He took a breath, kept it shallow, kept his voice light. “I guess that, uh, Crime Alley’s not a place in town?”
“Not that I’ve heard of, no.”
“Huh.” He prodded Park Row on the map with his finger. “What’s this one?”
She looked pained, her blue eyes tight. “It’s Park Row. Look, it says.”
“Oh.”
And she took pity. “It’s definitely—well. I can’t say it’s crime-free, but if you’re thinking street crime, that’s not where you’d find it.”
His shoulders tightened. “I’m not looking for—”
“No,” Barbara said. “No, of course you’re not.” She pushed out her cheek with her tongue. “Look,” she said, looking around quickly, “can I give you some advice?” There was no one in hearing distance.
Jason shrugged.
“Okay,” she said. “You’re new in town?”
He shrugged again, one shoulder this time. “Yeah?”
“Well. Gotham’s not like other places. Gotham is—Gotham doesn’t have heroes.”
He frowned at her. “Yeah. Got that.”
“Do you?”
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He stares at his own face, lying unconscious on the roof of his apartment building, mouth splayed open and the tiniest scrape from Miles’s claws on his cheek. Miles takes a halting step forward and lightly kicks the limp body with a steel toe.
“That’s my jacket,” Miles says flatly, because he can’t think of anything else to say. “That bastard.”
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or, legacies run hot, then cold, then hot again.
Series
- Part 3 of needless to say i—
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 3,103
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 2
- Comments:
- 43
- Kudos:
- 1,053
- Bookmarks:
- 205
- Hits:
- 6,394
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Solar Flares by glassofwater
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), DCU
06 Jan 2024
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Summary
Personhood, noun: the quality or condition of being an individual person.
Son, noun: a man regarded as the product of a particular person, influence, or environment.
Dick Grayson, noun: oldest son of Bruce Wayne, first son of Batman (i.e., a sum of parts, not a whole)
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My take on the “eldest daughter” trope of Dick Grayson and his relationship with the facets of himself.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 58,853
- Chapters:
- 8/9
- Collections:
- 7
- Comments:
- 177
- Kudos:
- 1,222
- Bookmarks:
- 346
- Hits:
- 23,226
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“It wasn’t filed correctly.”
Dick pauses, eyes darting to his brother’s face as he watches it sour. He hears Bruce’s chair roll back, wheels scraping against the concrete, and something in Dick’s chest squirms like a dozen worms in the sun.
“What?” Tim mutters, walking quickly over to the computer. Dick follows a step behind. He can feel the muscles in the back of his throat and neck tensing. “That can’t be right. I put it with the rest of that week’s reports. I know I did.”
Bruce is only slightly frowning. Most of his face is relaxed and there’s a minuscule tick in the muscles of his cheek. That’s good. He’s not angry, just…
“It was filed with last month’s reports,” Bruce says, gesturing towards the screen. Just as he said, Report #732 is filed under last month’s compilation, neatly beneath another report that coincidentally happened on the third week's Thursday. A simple mistake, easy enough to make.
But no mistake is “simple” in their line of work.
Tim blows out a breath and yanks at the hair on the back of his neck. “Fuck, B, I’m sorry. I was up late, I– I had no idea. I wasn’t thinking right.”
Bruce hums and the worms inside of Dick’s chest make it difficult for him to parse through its meaning. The older man didn’t seem upset but Dick’s been wrong before. He takes a step closer and places a hand on his brother’s shoulder, offering a reassuring smile.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he says, intentionally looking away from Bruce still in his chair, moving in front of Tim’s field of vision. All of his attention is focused on his brother. “Mistakes happen. I’ve done it before, B’s done it before– pretty sure everyone’s filed a report wrong. No big deal.”
He’s expecting an interruption from Bruce. Something along the lines of Reports are vital to our work or Don’t let it happen again. He’s expecting it, preparing to make some kind of non-inflammatory defense on behalf of his younger brother, but Bruce doesn’t say anything. He just nods quietly to himself and continues on with whatever he was doing before.
Tim, still wrestling with his guilt, releases the back of his hair and throws a small smile Dick’s way. When it's returned, Tim turns back to Bruce, a frown on his face. “B, it won’t happen again. I’ll make sure to double-check next time.”
The automatic response of There won’t be a next time rings so loudly in Dick’s head, he has to take a moment to realize Bruce hadn’t actually said it.
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General Nara by JohnBurtonLee for BookKeep
Fandoms: Dreaming of Sunshine - Silver Queen, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
19 May 2023
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Summary
It should really be harder to take over a clone regiment. Shikako basically showed up, flashed her lightsaber - which wasn't even a real lightsaber - and clones were falling all over themselves to follow her orders.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 10,693
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 33
- Comments:
- 169
- Kudos:
- 3,845
- Bookmarks:
- 1,309
- Hits:
- 35,560
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Summary
Tim has to attend a party. The company isn't as bad as he expected, even with the party crashers.
Series
- Part 1 of Friendships for the Rich and Famous
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 12,800
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 3
- Comments:
- 50
- Kudos:
- 1,379
- Bookmarks:
- 142
- Hits:
- 8,452
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“So”, Sam started. “How often do you do this? You both seem awfully blasé about this whole thing.”
“Says the pot to the kettle,” Tim countered, and started taking off his red jacket. “This happens way more in Gotham than you’d think. It barely even makes news these days.”
Sam whistled. “I might have to come to Gotham after all. Why- why are you taking off your pants?”
Tim was, indeed, taking his pants off. “I’m turning them over, I don’t want to be recognized.” He shimmied his left shoe out of the pant leg and turned them inside out, hiding the red outside matching his jacket and revealing the black underside.
“You know what, that’s a good idea”, Sam said, and started untying something at her waist. “This thing is a bit hard to sneak around in.”
While Tim shimmied his pants back on, trying to ignore the fact that he was stripping in a closet with someone who was essentially a complete stranger, Sam undid some fastening and her skirt collapsed off her hips like an enormous purple and black souffle. Then she simply stepped out of her giant skirt. Underneath she was wearing not tights and heels as Tim would have assumed, but thick leggings and…
“Combat boots?” Tim asked. “To a gala?”
“Yeah?” Sam challenged his disbelieving tone. “I’m wearing a floor length skirt, who’s going to see my shoes anyway?”
“Point,” Tim said, and undid his bow tie. Next to him, Sam pulled loose a row of hidden hook-and-eyes by her side, effectively peeling her bejeweled corset off. Thankfully she had a tube top underneath that left her decent. Then she unclasped her giant necklace, but left her earrings and bracelets be.
Tim shed his cuff links and picked his jacket back up, fishing the inside breast pocket for a spare mask. Never go anywhere without one. He gave a calculating glance at Sam, and made the executive decision to just use the mask.
“You have a mask?” Sam immediately gawked. “Sweet. You really don’t wanna get recognized, huh?”
“No, it’s easier this way.”
“Yeah, I know how that can be,” she agreed. “If my parents knew what I was doing at night, they’d probably faint.”
“Cocaine?”