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A few transformations

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My mom is waxing poetic about cheese tonight

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eepy dads aaaa

#witch hat atelier

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do you think insight can be gained about an author from the stories they write?

no. authors are like squids and can only be understood through spirited but ultimately futile combat

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we should be getting iced coffee and going to creepy and musty antique stores together why must we be separated by our screens…

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When Jason died, he’d still been a runt.  A black dog that could barely reach Bruce’s knees, more fur than shadows, eyes that had not yet started turning red.  He easily fit into the lap of whoever was holding him, wriggled into nooks in the Manor that Batman would never be able to follow, had an unerring ability to stumble upon dead bodies.

Jason had felt his own death before he ever laid eyes on the bomb.  It was a horrible thing, knowing you were going to die but not knowing how or when.  Knowing that Batman would be too late.  Knowing that this was the end.

A Grim’s power was always stronger closer to death.  To someone else’s death.  To their own.

The Joker left, not because he was done playing games, but because something in those blue eyes had begun turning red and there was a flicker of fear amidst that carefully calculated crazy.  The Joker left before Jason Todd started leaking shadows.

The bomb went off.  A baby Grim died.

But you couldn’t kill something that belonged to Death.

Jason woke up.  Jason came back.  Jason opened eyes of liquid green fire, and fully transformed, he stood higher than most men, a terrifying amalgam of shadows and fear.  A giant canine, solid black and reeking of Death.

Because that was the thing about Grims.  Their full powers only kicked in after death.

~#~

Tim shuddered as he walked towards the control room, fighting the subconscious chill.  The thermostats all registered the temperature as a balmy seventy-four degrees, but he’d been shivering for the last ten minutes and he was determined to find the source of the problem.

It was dark, the sky outside so cloudy it looked like night, and even the lights seemed dimmer than they usually were.  Just perception, Tim tried to convince himself, darting glances over his shoulder at an empty hallway, but it didn’t quite stick.

The darkness closed over him like molasses, sticky, slow and inextricable.

~#~

Tim woke in a rush, like someone had jolted him, and struggled blindly up in the instinctive reaction to an alarm, before his mind woke all the way up and helpfully pointed out that he was restrained.

Before Tim could register anything more than an increased heartbeat, the binds tightened, and a low voice said smoothly into his ear, “Calm down.  Deep breaths.”

Calm down?  Calm down?  Tim felt like he’d gone five rounds with Crane, and he was being restrained, and the room was too dark to make out any significant details, and—

Something slid through his hair, pressure on the right side of a massage.  “Shh,” the voice instructed.  “Your heart rate is too high.  Robin, slow down.”

Tim instantly untensed, the reaction ingrained after years of hearing the same words in Batman’s growl.  The voice was on the edge of familiar, and it was enough to bypass his climbing anxiety and drop him into a lull.

Had he been hit with fear toxin?  He didn’t remember—and then Tim went very, very still when his mind pulled up what he did remember.

“Robin?” the low voice asked.

Tim started, voice scratchy, “There was a—” A dog?  A wolf?  What could he even use to describe such a monster?  “A creature.”  Tim swallowed, and opened his mouth again, to try and detail specifics, but they were nowhere to be found.

Red eyes.  Tall, taller than him, filling the entire corridor, black and shadowy and Tim had been unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to think—

“Robin, calm down!” the voice cursed right into his ear and Tim felt himself being pulled up.  The restraints across his chest was a pair of arms, one hand pressed flat above his heart, the other stroking through his hair.  His legs were pinned by a boot-clad leg clamped around his knees, and Tim became aware that he was half-reclined in someone’s lap.

“The creature’s gone,” the voice said.  “He’s gone and not coming back, stop panicking.”  The voice sounded on the verge of panic itself.  “Just—just breathe, goddammit.”

Tim obediently breathed.  In and out, slipping into the breathing pattern Bruce had taught him—a breathing pattern mirrored by the man holding him, and things gradually began to break through Tim’s spiral.

Details.  Facts.  Conjecture.

Detail—the voice sounded very, very familiar.  Hoarser than he remembered, but familiar.

Fact—Tim was still in Titans Tower, still in one of the most fortified bases on the planet.  There was no one else visible.  They appeared to be alone.

Conjecture—Tim let out a slow breath and kept his limbs relaxed, waiting for his captor to release his breath before Tim twisted as fast he could.  He wasn’t aiming to break their grip, just to see—

Green eyes in a surprised expression.  A random white lock of hair.  A familiar, set, stubborn jaw.

“Jason?” Tim felt like he was drowning again.

#👀👀👀👀👀👀 #dc #jason todd #tim drake

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ceramic mugs by tim kowalczyk

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love when his eyes do this

#dungeon meshi #laois touden

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the best and funniest thing about watching the dungeon meshi anime with people who haven't read the manga is that they think they have laios figured out right off the bat

but they're only half-right. "oh, he's a pervert for monsters. it's a sex thing," they say. no. Laios Touden is a pervert for monsters, and it ISN'T a sex thing and that makes it SO MUCH WORSE

#dungeon meshi

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The Duke of Meropide

#genshin impact #wriothesley #ooo i love the way the color palette works here

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I hate waiting for things to stop being popular so i can enjoy them

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wanna eat?

#dungeon meshi

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legit had no idea the chinese tom and jerry mobile game was still going

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