#Cass’s missing memories reveal??

[inadvisablebutinevitable]

How is DC’s Spirit World (2023) not more popular??? Cass??? Constantine??? XANTHE??

Appreciate them please????

(Also the art is beautiful)

[redflagshipwriter]

batmom cass: reveal

masterpost

Oh. Fuck. He was invisible. A flood of genuine fear washed through him. He was discovered again, he was away from any allies, he had to get away-

Danny went intangible out of sheer survival instinct and lurched downwards. Bruce made a punched-out sound and lunged to grab him. He actually got his hand around Danny’s wrist and clenched despite Danny being invisible to human eyes. It was no use. Danny slipped through his grip, the chair, and then the floor.

He caught himself there and paused, hovering in the flooring. He could see the weird joints underneath the kitchen, a dark crawl space with way more spiders than Alfred could possibly know about. One of them reared up and waved its front legs at him in what was either a threat or a greeting. Danny shuddered involuntarily and pulled back a little to give the arachnid personal space.

“Danny?” Cass’s voice was muffled but calm. “Sit in your chair, please.”

She made it sound so sensible.

He blinked rapidly. “Right. Right, okay.” He floated back up through the floor and avoided eye contact as he settled back into place and the visible spectrum. He stole a glance around the room. Cass and Damian looked unaffected. Bruce’s face said the same, but the pulse point was jumping rapidly in his throat. His hand was pressed firmly against his thigh as if to remind him that it was a physical thing that existed.

“This GIW is harmful to you?” Damian asked, sensible and unaffected. He pushed his empty yoghurt away a few inches on the tabletop. “I gather from the acronym that we are dealing with an organization rather than an individual.”

“....Yeah.” Danny gripped his knees under the table and clung to the hint of normalcy. If they were going to act like that hadn’t been weird, then maybe he was okay. “I think they’re government affiliated. They say they are. They, uh.” He cleared his throat. “They’re the Ghost Investigation Ward, but I call them the Guys in White.”

“And they are a problem because?” Damian asked crisply. Cass was watching with the full force of her formidable attention, but it wasn’t a heavy gaze. 

Danny forced himself to stop fidgeting. “Well, I might have died a little.” It came out as a question. “And they’re not sure it’s me- at least, they weren’t, but I guess that they are now.” Oof, that was hard to internalize. Of course they did. Now that they knew about Vlad, they had all the pieces to put it together. His parents had definitely put it together. The look on Mom’s face when she saw him hauling Vlad out of the lab…

He felt cold. Danny rubbed at his thighs as if that would help. 

There hadn’t been another choice. It ate at him a little bit that Danny had thrown his life away for someone he didn’t even like, but what else could he have done? Vlad was Vlad, yeah, but Danny couldn’t have left anyone there. 

Bruce had a look that Danny had never seen on him before. Intense. Focused. Dangerous. Danny instinctively pulled away from it, sitting all the way up in his chair. 

Bruce wiped it away, but the memory still sent Danny’s blood rushing. Ecto gathered in his mouth like saliva, his body readying to fight for his life. He swallowed it down with difficulty. 

“As you said,” Cass interjected. She scooted her chair a little closer to him and laid an arm along his shoulders. “Like Jason.” She rubbed at his upper arm. He leaned into her touch. 

“Like Jason,” Bruce echoed. His tone was hollow.

Danny ducked his head and missed the meaningful look that Cass shot her BatDad. 

“What are their capabilities?” Damian pushed. His dark eyes glittered when Danny looked back at him. “You clearly have invisibility and density shifting. Are they able to counter you?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Danny blinked rapidly to try to force himself to focus. This was… so weird. Someone had found out about him and he wasn’t fighting for his life. Even his friends had found out when he was actively under fire from a ghost. His nervous system didn’t know what to do with this. He cleared his throat. “They have a lot of tech, uh.” He flexed his hands. “From my parents.” He stared at the woodgrain on the table. It was probably real wood and not the heavy duty polymer that the Fenton table was made out of. “They’re not exactly competent, but there’s a lot of them, and they have had some success.”

His stomach lurched. He swallowed hard on bile. He didn’t think about what he’d found when he went after Vlad. He didn’t think about Vlad in his human form, strapped down and incisions pinned open, literal pins holding open his torso and skin layers on his arms. He didn’t think about the quietly despairing hums coming from rows of ghost cores on a shelf, neatly labeled with specimen numbers. 

“Let’s walk.” Cass hustled him up and muscled him down the hall without letting go of her comforting grip. Danny went along with it numbly. But she was kinda right. Moving shook him out of his head. The walls were changing around him, curtains and windows and framed portraits and some of Tim’s photography. They passed a room he had never seen before. Cass pushed the door open, let him look around, and then tugged him down the hall before he’d had time to do more than catalogue the novelty. 

She did that at the next door, too. Oh. An impromptu tour. The novelty of seeing new things started to drag him back to the real world, right now, which was not exactly a fight for his life.

At the third door, Danny managed, “Does anyone play that piano?”

Cass made a mysterious hum. It took her a while to unstick her tongue. “Damian can. Jason, if you ask with big eyes.” 

Danny nodded at this information. Damian did seem like the kind of person who would hone a few classic artistic skills. And Jason was manipulable, good information.

…Not that Danny would need much help there. He felt a little sheepish at how threatened he’d felt earlier when he remembered the sincerity and protectiveness he could sense from both Cass and Jason.  

“What should we do about GIW?” Cass broached the topic, as if she knew that he felt better. She probably did know. “Investigate cautiously? Destroy?” She held up two fingers to count off the ‘destroy the GIW’ options. “Horde of lawyers descend from Wayne Enterprises jet, or Justice League?”

Danny snorted. It turned into a laugh, hysterical and too long. He wiped tears away from his eyes. “Personally, I like the idea of blowing up their base,” he admitted. “But someone should rescue the test subjects first.”

“Oh?”

Cass was so weirdly easy to talk to. He leaned a little harder against her. She wasn’t a big woman, but there was something so solid about her anyway. It must be a Black Bat thing. “I left because I was getting someone out,” he admitted. “They were a lot more captives than I knew about.” He squeezed his free hand to ground himself. “I grabbed as many as I could and tossed them through the portal, but I don’t know if that was everyone or if just being home let them heal up.” 

Hell, maybe someone had come along and eaten all the helpless cores. Danny shied away from the horror of that thought. His intuition had identified the helpless ghost cores as viable ectoplasm, healing and delicious. They were scared at his approach because they sensed him, they knew they were helpless shells to crack open and lick out the sweet marrow–

Ah. Yup. He stopped in his tracks and heaved his snack onto the carpet.

[c0wb0yenthusiast]

Country Boy - Part II

Phillip Graves/Fem!reader

Summary : There’s a little tension between you and Phillip, but surely you can avoid it? Not when you get tipsy at your welcome party and share a rather intimate moment, revealing some feelings in question to each other.

Word count : 3.4k

A/N : was about to post this earlier then realised a funny glitch had happened and the whole beginning had been deleted…. So I had to redo it and I PRAY it’s not choppy or anything!! Anyways thank you to everybody who read part 1, I appreciate all of your support and hope this part lives up to your expectations! :))

All morning, your mind seemed to be preoccupied.

You prepare your tea in utter silence, finding peace in the soft clank of utensils on plates while your parents eat at the table. Your shoulders are hunched and your back is to them, which allows a little more privacy to let the events of earlier sink in.

Phillip Graves.

Phillip Graves was on your porch. He teased you.

And you let him.

You’re busy pouring hot water into your mug, now attempting to recover everything about that meeting that your mind allowed you to.

It was almost horrible how good he looked, prompting you to keep your head low as you approach the table with your mug cupped in your hands.

He was so tall, so broad and so much more handsome. However, now he brandished a scar sliced deeply into his cheekbone from what you saw. It contrasted his tanned skin and stood out among the small nips and marks he’d collected on his skin since seemingly forever.

His hair fit perfectly under his hat, small dirty blond strands peeking from underneath. You felt as if he was teasing you. Look at me now, look at what you missed out on.

You blow on your tea quietly, hiding the fact it’s actually a deep exhale to comprehend the sight you saw this morning.

Leaning against the arch of your porch, he was wearing a red flannel which managed to hug him in all the right places. His broad shoulders were now defined and so were his arms. The plaid flannel pulled up to reveal his strong, muscled forearms wasn’t warding you off at all.

It’s embarrassing that you remember these features from such a short meeting, causing you to raise your mug to your mouth slowly in an attempt to cover the sheepish smile appearing at the memory of how he used to hold you back then. The way his warm hands cupped your face perfectly, as if they were two pieces connecting in a jigsaw puzzle. You now wished you could’ve gotten a better glimpse at them this morning.

“Is something wrong, dear?” Your mother takes notice of your silent routine, which makes you eye her nervously.

“Nothing. Just.. Phillip-“

“What does that boy want?” Your father interrupts, facing you with an accusatory glare.

“He said your fencing had arrived, wanted you to pick it up.” You mumble awkwardly, wishing you could sink into your mug of coffee and never return. It’s barely been a day and the city seems to be calling your name already with open arms.

You would’ve happily embraced it again, but now you’re here. No regrets, right?

“Oh. Alright.” He shrugs, stretching and getting out of his chair.

Alright?

What is going on?

Ten years ago, your father and Phillip’s rivalry seemed to be unmatched. It pretty much was the talk of the town - the love-struck teen and the unmoved father.

You don’t respond, draining your mug and sitting there stock still. There’s a lot to process this morning.

Like the way Phillip barely looked at you. His eyes only grazing over your face for a split second before directing his attention to his truck or the front door. It’s a little obvious if you say so.

But you can’t help but mourn over the way his gaze would tenderly trace over your figure, how he took his time to memorise any scar or beauty mark somewhere across your body. He’d always run his thumb over his gently at first, but as the two of you got more comfortable in the relationship he learned how much you loved it when he kissed any of your birthmarks.

You stop yourself; you have a husband, you can’t be thinking like this. You’ve moved on.

And clearly Phillip has moved on too. Probably for the better, you reassure yourself. It’s been 10 years, everyone seemed to have given up on chances of you returning.

You’re rinsing your cup in the sink when your internal argument seems to be intercepted by your father.

“I’m heading into town to pick up some equipment, would you like to come, dear?” As he finishes his sentence, his warm hand pats your shoulder gently.

You try not to give off any startled reaction to this sudden touch, you don’t want your family catching onto your mental battles with the memories flooding back so quickly and harshly into your mind once more.

You watch him for a second, he’s pulling a very hopeful yet playful smile, raising his eyebrows in invitation.

“Sure, Pa. I’ll come along.”

He cracks a grin, clapping your shoulder happily before turning away.

“Be dressed by 10!”

You’re overthinking this.

They’re just clothes, you reassure yourself but can’t help shrinking from the intimidating way the assorted pieces of garments glare at you from their position on the bed.

It never used to be this difficult, or at least you don’t remember it like this. Maybe it was because you were a teenage girl and wore all the cute little dresses and cropped items you could get your hands on. You never used to worry like this.

Probably because of Phillip.

You tense a little at the thought of him again. Yet you do remember how he’d savour every outfit you wore, even if you’d worn it before.

“You look great, honey.” He’d whisper to you at some point in the day, his hands comfortably stroking your waist as his eyes would examine every inch of you.

You caught yourself smiling fondly at the memory, but it’s countered by the sudden remembrance of his coldness this morning.

You don’t waste any more time, grabbing whatever catches your eye to throw together an ensemble. It’s not like anyone will care.

The town is sure lively. You’re trying not to act surprised at the influx of new faces meshed with old ones and little children running around, sharing old traits from former classmates.

Just a reminder of how far you’ve seen to have gotten in your marriage with Louis. The only success being his job - you’re just working in his office so he can keep a very inattentive eye on you. You groan and lean back into your seat, trying to shield yourself away from prying eyes that throw cursory glances at your father’s large, quite obtrusive car.

Thinking about Louis and the city was enough to completely lower your mood, including the past memories and flickers of Deja vu when one of your senses encounters something vaguely familiar. It’s like a magic spell of some sort, fleshing out your life 10 years ago and how it may have affected you if you’d stayed.

The car reverses into a parking spot and you hear the thud of the drivers door slamming shut.

“Sweetie, hop out. I’m sure uncle Jimmy will be shocked to see you.” He adds, grinning and patting the car firmly. It seems playful but in reality it’s a bit of a threat.

You slip out hesitantly, allowing the beams of the full sun to encase your body with warmth as well as the now very noticeable sounds and voices flowing around you.

It’s so much quieter than the city yet very distinct, while on your painfully slow journey to the entrance of the shop you overhear someone reciting their shopping list, gossip between two old ladies and complaints about the weather.

This all leaves your mind the minute the shop bell rings as you push open the door.

“Finally, what took you so long?” It’s a rhetorical question. Your father stands by the counter expectantly, looking eagerly to you then to Jimmy at the counter.

He’s not really your uncle, just a saying.

Just a neighbour who used to bring his daughter around, then stopped frequenting after an ‘incident’ broke out at your school and realised it would be a hazard to bring the bratty 13-year-old over again.

He’s not a bad guy, you reassure yourself. Sauntering up to the counter with a smile across your face, he returns it and chuckles at the sight of you.

“You’re all grown up now! I remember when you were just a small thing, hon.” He gestures with his hand, amusement clearly visible on his face at this ‘rare sighting’ of the girl who finally came back.

The city mouse becoming the country mouse she used to be.

“Just what I said! She’s all big and successful in the city, you see, Jim? Even married too!” He exclaims.

Your dad has a habit of doing this, which you’ve grown used to - showing off in front of any other middle aged man. Maybe they’re competition? Who knows.

You’re smiling very calmly, nodding and chuckling lightly just to ease the time and escape from this conversation. The words only begin to sink in once you hear a very specific sentence. More like a word.

A name.

“Yeah, how’s your nephew Phil doing? He an errand boy now? Came round this morning to tell me about those fences.”

“Oh yeah, he’s doing just fine. Pretty damn skilled too, if you need some help with those fences I’ll send him over later.”

You almost freeze.

You can’t interact with him more than once today. You need a break from his painfully pretty face, silky smooth voice, breathtaking blue eyes-

“No need for a later, Jim, I’m right here.”

It’s coming from behind you.

No time to shrink or hide, but that would be futile anyways. It’s almost silly how worked up you’re getting.

“Speak of the devil, Phillip. Sorry I missed you this morning.” Your dad turns and greets him happily, you can hear the clap as their hands collide into a hearty handshake.

You also turn to face him, forcing a smile as his gaze lingered on you.

“Nice to see you back in town, Y/N.” He comments, his hands drifting to hold onto his belt rather than shaking your hand. Or touching you at all.

You think it’s because of the tension, the unresolved problems left behind 10 years ago that are apparently prevalent now still as you can’t seem to look at him for too long.

From the way his hand tightens around his belt loop, he’s feeling similar to you.

“Phillip? You mind coming round sometime to help an old man out?” Your dad interrupts this strangely intense moment, as Philip’s face seems to ease to his usual soft smile and attentive manner.

“Sure can do. But I don’t want to interrupt that party you’re having later with the neighbourhood.” He adds, probably an attempt to weasel out of seeing you again today.

“Nonsense! You’re practically family so don’t give me any excuses, just get your ass over there.”

And with that, your father lets out a hearty laugh and claps a hand on your shoulder. You try not to look as winded as you are from the utter force he exudes.

“I’ll see you soon then. Tom. Y/N.” He addresses the two of you with a fairly civil tone, but it’s hardened at the edges.

He walks out and you desperately drag your wandering eyes away from his form fitting flannel and jeans.

The party is civil.

That’s all you can say about it, because there’s not much else to really pay attention to other than the small, seemingly riveting conversations everybody seems to be having apart from you.

Obviously people come and ask how you’re doing and what your current life goals are, but you just throw out a few repeated phrases you’ve found reassures them the best from the masses of people who flocked to you when walking around town earlier with your father.

It’s not exhausting, but more nerve-wracking. Not everyone wants to see anybody apart from their own family achieving something more in their lives. At least, that’s what you look like to them.

You’re just tired.

So, so tired.

You’re observing the overall party from a swing in the backyard. Your dress delicately spread across the seat and hanging off of the seat a little. It’s a bright pink, which your mother insisted didn’t ‘wash you out’ whatsoever and was the perfect choice for a party.

That is if you’re attending a five year old’s tea party. Which you would rather.

Kids don’t tut at you when you explain your job to them, neither do they spout vaguely critical comments when they believe you aren’t listening.

“It’s nice to see her back after so long, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes, she’s definitely… blossomed… into that beauty of hers.”

“Exactly!”

You can only sit and watch, unbothered at this rate. You’re married and have your life together; people just want to pick at anything they can.

Everything seems to change when the familiar honk of a horn rings from the front of the house. You’re practically leaning out of your chair completely to catch a quick glimpse.

However, you instantly relax once more as your father comes into the backyard accompanied by Philip Graves.

White button up, soft blue blazer thrown on lazily and jeans. You don’t want to linger on him, it’s not right. It’s not fair.

So you get up and do something about it.

You stumble out of your chair, walking down to where everybody seemed to be congregating and looked around for the bowl of your mother’s special punch.

Maybe if you drowned yourself in punch it would avoid having to look at his pretty face. His infuriatingly beautiful face.

Your movements begin as careful, long pours of punch with the ladle into your glass as you throw around polite smiles and chatter. As you refill your glass more and more, the familiar sound of punch swishing in the cup begins to ring in your head. And so do the conversations around you.

You don’t know how long you’ve been idly sipping punch for, but it’s enough time to let the effects of the rather strong beverages -mixed in by your mother- take effect.

You forget that you’re a grown adult now who probably shouldn’t be drinking like a party girl on a weekend. But that thought slips out of your head too quickly to develop into rational feelings, so you just laugh it off and sloppily place the glass on whatever stable surface is the nearest to you.

Wandering through the groups of people, sometimes barging past and almost tripping headfirst into the grass or just walking right in the middle of a conversation just for the convenience of it.

At this rate it’s only to justify why your head feels like it’s melting. God, what was in that punch? It’s not like you’re the biggest lightweight on Earth, but it’s been awhile since you’ve drank that hard in such a short period of time.

At least, that’s what you realise looking back on the situation.

Right now you’re just trying to get back to your seat. Solace away from all the faces you keep bumping into. Somewhere that isn’t spinning, and spinning and spinning.

And spinning.

You slump back into your chair, utterly drained from the strenuous journey of climbing three steps while drunk. It’s such a huge achievement that you smile to yourself, satisfied with your efforts.

You’re busy taking a moment for this newfound quiet to settle into your raving brain when a blur of blue and brown seems to appear in the corner of your eye.

“Here’s the girl of the hour.” He’s suddenly next to you, leaning against the wall of the house with his arms crossed over his chest.

Now that he’s here, you’ve been dying to get a better glimpse at his muscles than this morning.

You only smile passively at him, letting the words flow into one ear and out of the other as your eyes are now fixated on his strong arms.

Phillip isn’t offended by your lack of response, more so concerned at the blankness in your expression.

“Sugar? You alright there…?” He questions, a little amused at your wide eyed, careful examination of his muscles.

Without thinking - which you seem a little bad at doing right now - your hand reaches out and your fingertips glide over his bicep. It’s solid, sturdy and hugs against his blazer in a flattering way.

Now you’re smiling even harder, fondly remembering how he’d carry you home when you were too tired to walk after a date. Or his joy when you’d run to him and he’d instantly wrap his arms around you and spin, your dress would almost float.

You don’t know why these memories seem to flood back at this very moment, but it furthers this euphoric state that you’re slowly slipping into.

“Remember when you used to hold me like a princess?” You murmur, looking up at him with a tenderness evident in your gaze.

He attempts to hide the way his eyes widened at your question, or how he’s beginning to falter or look away. You’re not very aware of it in that moment - but it haunts you afterwards.

“I do. Because you were. Are.” He adds, almost firmly as his hand moves to yours and his fingers brush against your knuckles. It’s funny how he seems to instinctively slow his movements purposefully just so he’s gentle with you, as if you were a doll.

“I’m not.. I’m not a little girl anymore..” you sigh, accepting his fingers intertwining with yours now. His rough, calloused fingers that always seemed to soften in your grasp. The hands that always seemed tense or even clenched in fists most of the time, but were always laid out for you to touch to your liking as your relationship progressed.

He doesn’t initially notice something nudging on his fingers, but glances down at your hands out of curiosity.

There’s two rings on your hand. One on your ring finger and another on your middle; it’s easy to tell which one was made by a lovestruck boy professing his dedication to a high-school sweetheart, whereas the other is flashy, decorative and unthought of. It didn’t strike him as something you used to wear, especially when it clashed with the other ring. His ring.

The ring he saved up for and pleaded for ever so desperately as he handed over his wages to his uncle, asking him for advice on what to make for his girlfriend at the time.

But that didn’t seem to matter anymore. Not when this ring was clearly an engagement ring.

I was planning to come here when I got married, the statement rings in his mind.

“I know. You’re a big girl now, hm?” He chuckles dryly, using humour to cope with the fact you’re touching him. Even after your tense conversation this morning; the conversation that mostly consisted of him speaking and you watching, mouth agape as if you’d just seen a ghost.

He thought he’d been dead to you anyways, especially with your sudden disappearance and lack of communication. Was he that insignificant?

Clearly not, he interrupts his doubts. Clearly not when you’re touching him the exact same way you did like 10 years haven’t passed and you weren’t already taken by some lucky bastard. Engaged. Basically married at this rate if he’s lucky.

His hand slips out of your grasp seamlessly. Deep down he’s berating himself, practically begging himself to hug you, hold you, kiss you so hard his lips bruise and he cannot possibly breathe anymore.

But he doesn’t do any of these things.

You’re looking up at him plainly, waiting for his next move. There’s no animosity or embarrassment clouding your face like the way it was in his uncle’s shop or your front porch.

It’s just you.

The dreamy, doll-like girl he’d happily mapped out his future with while she listened attentively, chirping in her thoughts about what she wanted to do in the future alongside him.

“Sorry, sugar. I’ve got to go to work now.” He whispers, turning away and walking off again. Walking away from the one thing he craves. He’d lost his chance, so what was the point?

He may as well just watch you succeed from afar, living a life that doesn’t involve a country bumpkin from her past ruining her plans.

His footsteps become a little forceful, digging into the dirt and kicking any little stones out of his way.

God, he probably looked so stupid.

He drives off without another word, leaving you a little dazed as you lay back into your chair. You don’t want to even try to think about what just happened, so you just sit there for what feels like forever until people begin to disperse.

Slowly but surely, the crowd grows smaller and smaller and the minute everybody is gone, you run up to your room.

You run as quickly as you can, not waiting to hear your parents’ questions or concerns. This was all a mistake.

A really confusing mistake.

[haveihitanerve]

You Can Cry If You Want To-

Bruce Wayne was just on his way to bed when he paused in the hallway. He hadn't checked on anyones bedroom since steph and tim had moved out, and damian didn't seem the type to sleep heavy and feel secure if his father poked his head in the door at midnight. But Bruce missed watching his children sleep, missed watching as their chest rose and fell, missed seeing all the tension leave their bodies as they relaxed. Got to be children. Young. For the night. So quietly, in a way only a man trained by ninjas in the himalayans can move, bruce snuck over to his youngest sons bedroom, and gently pushed open the door. He frowned when the light fell onto an empty bed, his heart starting to race. He had checked all the cameras, he had raised dick grayson and jason todd, there was no way to escape the Manor without Bruce knowing and letting it happen. And no one could come in either. Cautiously, he stepped a bit further in, looking around. Maybe for signs of a struggle, or a packed bag or anything. But he found nothing. Bruces frown deepened and he walked in further, scanning. That was when he heard the sniffling. Bruce tensed, but realized it was… the sound of crying? He turned slowly, and spotted the closet door cracked open slightly, a small light, probably from a flashlight, shining through the slats in the door. So bruce crouched down and crept forward slowly, opening the door further. “Damian?” he whispered. The crying cut off. “F-father?” Damian's shaky voice floated out to him from behind a few racks of clothes and he let out a sigh of relief. “Hey dami. You alright Prince?” Bruce pushed aside the hangers and peered down at his youngest, huddled in the corner, alfred the cat curled up next to him, his knees up to his chest and tears streaked across his cheeks. “Oh baby.” Bruce reached out a hand, slowly, so that damian wouldn't tense, and gently wiped his tears away. “Whats wrong?” he asked. Damian blinked, and the confusion at the kindness, the simple act of fatherly behavior, made bruce want to snap Talia Al Ghul's neck. But he kept the anger off his face, instead crawling deeper into the clothes and pulling damian onto his lap. He carded his fingers through the soft brown curls and damian cuddled closer, digging his hands into bruces chest. “What happened?” Bruce asked softly, reaching out a hand to rub alfreds chin when the cat let out a put out meow. “I-I had a bad dream.” Damian answered quietly and the doubt and fear in his voice made bruce see red. But he pushed it away, focusing instead on the small, scared little boy in his arms. His heart squeezed. How many times had he been in this position before? How many times had he held dick, held jason, tim, cass, steph, and even babs when the things they had seen had been too much or memories of their past flooded their senses. And in that moment Bruce hated his sons mother. Hated the League of Assassins. He had kept damian’s conceiving quiet, not revealing anything to alfred as to how the child had actually come to be, for he knew that if the butler got even a whiff of it, or the exact details of what life had been like for damian there, he would tear the place apart to get to those who had hurt him. But in that moment, as he held his son who had been kept from him for so many years, had been hurt and trained to be a weapon, had been beaten for showing emotions so much so to the point where showing any here, in a place he was safe, when he had a nightmare and wanted comfort(if the vice grip he had on bruce was any indication) had scarred him so severely, bruce didn't know if he wanted to keep the secret any longer. Or hold alfred back when he did. 

But Bruce shoved all his emotions, his feelings of rage aside, in favor of calming the little boy in his arms. “Thats okay baby. Sometimes i have nightmares too.” He kissed damian’s head. “You wanna talk about it?” Damian shook his head, but he cuddled closer. “Alright.” Bruce said softly, wrapping his arms tighter around the boy. “Grandfather said we’re not to cry.” Damian whispered pitifully. Bruce felt a growl build up in his throat, but he swallowed it down, rubbing damian’s back soothingly. “That is because Ras Al Ghul is incapable of human emotion.” he kissed damian’s head. “You are ten. You can cry if you want to.” Damian didn't answer, but bruce felt his shirt grow wet. He didn't move, just held the boy closer. “You wanna sleep with me tonight?” He asked quietly. Damian hiccuped, nodding. “Y-yes. Yes please.” “okay.” Bruce stood and damian moved to get back on the ground, but bruce just held him, cradling him as he walked to his own room, alfred the cat trailing behind him. Damian sniffed, wiping his nose as bruce pushed open the door to his bedroom and walked to the bed. “Wait here okay? Ill be right back.” he promised. Damian nodded, hugging alfred close to his chest when the cat leapt onto the bed. Bruce hurried to get changed, slipping into his bed clothes before half running back out. Damian was seated in the same spot as before, alfred in his lap. Bruce smiled softly, coming over and slipping under the covers. “Come here.” he bade his son softly. Damian crawled over to him, snuggling underneath his arm. Bruce kissed his head and wrapped the blanket around them, pulling alfred in as well for damian to cuddle. Damian's eyes drooped and bruce smiled, opening his mouth to sing. He had used to sing goodnight lullabies all the time when dick and jason had been younger, but had stopped after a while. Damian let out a yawn, and his eyes slid shut. Bruce smiled, finishing the song and switched off the light. Damian rolled in his arms, snuggling closer.  “I love you baba.” he murmured, drowsily, before wrapping his arms around alfred and passing out. Bruce wiped at his eyes and kissed his sons head again. “I love you too Princeling.” He whispered. Neither noticed the flash of the camera, or the butler, watching from the hall with a smile. 

based on this little short but changed slightly because, come on, gotta give bruce some good dad points. he would so stand by his kids if they cried. he might not understand the emotion because hes been through too much, but he would let them cry

[wmheart3012]

𝟑: 𝐑𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐬 | 𝐎𝐂!𝐋𝐞𝐮𝐫 𝐱 𝐀𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥

♡ 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | ♤ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 | ♞ 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 | ☆ 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 {𝟏𝟖+} | ♛ 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞 {𝟏𝟖+}

꧁༒☬𝓶𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝓷𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓰𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷☬༒꧂

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

★彡[ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ʀᴇ-ᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ. ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ɪɴᴠᴏʟᴠᴇᴅ ɴᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴀɴʏ ᴀᴄᴛᴏʀꜱ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴏᴄ. ᴀʟʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴄᴄᴜʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴅᴇᴘɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ.]彡★

★彡[ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇɴɢᴀɢᴇ]彡★

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟏: 𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - ★彡[ᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛꜱ]彡★

★彡[ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ - ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ]彡★

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Rhysand

It was never a secret that Azriel loved my sister. Not from the day I had brought him into that cabin, and I watched his shadows curl with hers. Not as we grew up, and I watched him watch her with light in his eyes. Not during the war, as they both served my father. Not after, even as everyone assumed there was something between him and Mor.

Not on the day she died, when I heard him scream and sob over her dead body.

And not even in the years since, that pain had never faded. No matter if we never spoke of it, of her, of what they could have been. No matter if he clung onto Mor, and we all knew why.

She was the closest thing left to Leur.

I could see it every time I looked at him, his broken heart and shattered soul. The day she died, she took most of him with her.

And I knew it, but I still didn't expect my heart to crack the way it did as he called for her in his sleep.

It was a simple mumble, and if I had been doing anything else I would have missed it. But I had taken up residence at his bedside for the time being as the healers still worked on Cassian, and I couldn't bear to look at his shredded wings a moment longer.

So, I sat next to Azriel's bed, watching the hole in his chest slowly repair itself. And I knew, that even when the skin healed and the scars faded, that hole would still be there. And then he called out for her, still in the haze of sleep, and I couldn't remember the last time I had heard her name on his lips.

I couldn't remember the last time anyone had said her name, in fact.

Not a day went by when I didn't think of her, of my mother. I could hear their voices in my head clear as day still, could remember the way my mother used to scold me and Cassian, could hear the way Leur would snicker in the background as she pretended as if she didn't make the mess me and Cass were blamed for. So many memories of that cabin, of the war, of watching my sister slowly die as my father sent her on more and more missions, of watching my mother beg and plead with him not to let us on the battlefields.

It was so vivid in my mind, and yet, I never said her name.

I don't think I had since the day she died.

It was odd, being so caught up in this old pain when the new one threatened to overwhelm me. Mor could barely even look at me, not since I had revealed that Feyre was High Lady. I was sure the second that Cassian woke up, he'd wipe the floor with me for allowing her out of my sight. And my mate was in the middle of enemy territory, and if I thought about it too long I was sure I might fall to pieces.

So instead, I sat and watched Azriel sleep and tried to remember the last time I'd said my sister's name.

I wasn't sure how much time had passed when I felt that mating bond pull tight in my chest.

Feyre

My body sang for her, my every bone and muscle relaxing as I felt her on the other side of that bond. It was like a glimmering, shining, string, pulled tight. My mind purred as I traveled along it, as close as I dared, and just beyond the incomprehensible horizon I could feel... happiness?

She was happy?

Perhaps hopeful was a better word, but how could she feel that way after everything she sacrificed, after everything that had occurred today? Her sisters, Azriel, Cassian, and Tamlin had drug her away- and she was hopeful?

It only lasted a moment, and then I could feel the bond move, as if it was being loaded with something, some message, some memory, and something in my chest gleaned in anticipation. I felt Feyre so close, and in my bones I knew she had good news to share with me.

I waited and waited, but nothing ever came.

In a split second, I felt her happiness turn into pure terror. Darkness shot down that bond, pure chaos and freight. And then the panic hit, and I wasn't sure if it was from me or her, and I could barely think or move or breathe.

And then I heard it, the screaming.

It didn't sound like Feyre, it wasn't. It was Tamlin. Not it rage as I would have expected, but fear. And there were other voices too, calling for one another, for Feyre, and I could see nothing but pure destruction.

And then more screaming joined, my own I thought, and it was. But it was also Azriel.

Somewhere outside of the dark abyss of my mind, Azriel had shot out of bed, violent screams leaving his mouth. I had never seen- never seen him so... only once-

Help us

Her voice was desperate in my mind, and I didn't consider anything before I winnowed. I landed in front of the Spring Court manor moments later.

At least, where the Spring Court manor should have been. Instead, a flaming pile of rubble remained.

"Feyre!" The scream that tore from my throat was absolutely feral, unlike any sound I had ever made before. I ran to the rubble, burning my hands, my arms, my feet as I tore through it. I was screaming, over and over again, her name, anything I could think of. I pulled at that bond, looking for anything, a direction, a sign, something, but I was met with only silence.

It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours. I wasn't sure, but I found nothing. No sign of her, of Tamlin, of Lucien. No bodies, only blood.

Tamlin's blood.

Not Feyre's.

Somewhere behind me, Mor landed with a screeching Azriel in tow.

"She was here!" He screamed, twisting from Mor's grip and crawling towards the embers I stood in, "She was here!"

I couldn't think of anything but Feyre, not even the sounds of my family's screams could drown out my mind.

Mate

My mate

Where is my mate?

Mor's hands came around me and pulled me away, "Stop it!" She screeched, "Rhysand!"

"What the hell is going on?" Amren had made an appearance now, her voice booming over the sound of Azriel's screams.

Mor threw me to the grass with a strength I rarely saw her use, and she turned back towards the rubble. The fire disappeared under a wave of her hand, leaving only clouds of black smoke in it's wake.

Somewhere in the distance, a shaky figure crawled from the ashes. All it took was one glance of golden brown hair and I was sprinting.

Feyre was crying as I ripped the remnants of a stone pillar off her leg, cringing as I saw the shattered mess beneath it. She was sobbing as I pulled her into my arms, her body covered with bits of shattered glass and blood.

"What did he do?" I growled without thinking, "What did he do?"

"He took them." She cried, her arms locking around me, "He took all of them."

I was no longer myself. No longer a high lord, or Rhysand or anything. I was panic incarnate, rage incarnate.

"You're going to be okay." I promised, eyes scanning the rubble she had emerged from, in the distance, Mor was running towards us. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest that I thought it might jump out.

"No." Feyre cried, "The King, The King of Hybern did this."

Her voice was weak as she spoke, and Amren immediately appeared next to us. Cool, silver light glowed in her hands as she began working on Feyre. I grabbed them both, winnowing us to the air just outside of the House of Wind. My wings pushed harder than ever before as I landed us inside.

"Help!" I called for the healers that had arrived for Cassian and Azriel, "We need help!"

"This is not good." Amren took Feyre from my arms, placing her on a table still marred with Cassian's blood, "Get them in here now."

Her voice was like venom as she spoke, as if in answer, the healers appeared.

Blood, there was so much blood in this room. When all of this ended, I would burn that oak table marred with the blood of everyone I loved. I'd spit on it's ashes and curse every ounce of pain it stood for.

"He took them." Feyre was repeating over and over, her voice weak and strained as I stared at her ashen face.

The healers did not pull me from her side, they worked around me. I was barely even coherent, every instinct in my body on overdrive as I was useless to help. Feyre slipped further and further away, taking me with her as she did.

Somewhere behind me, Mor appeared with Azriel, the both of them bloody and burnt. It was enough to make me glance at myself, my torn clothes singed at the edges, my hands raw and burning. I looked at Amren, whose power was already exausted from healing Cassian and Azriel, as she pulled her hands from Feyre.

"Get every healer in the city in this room." I commanded, and under any other circumstance I knew she would have bit my head off for daring to speak to her that way.

But instead she just nodded and vanished into the night.

"Tell me she's going to be okay." I begged, looking to the healers. The black haired woman's eyes met my own, and I could sense the drain on her as she spoke, "We are doing everything we can."

Finally, Feyre's tune changed. Her blue eyes met mine, and I felt the panic down the bond as she spoke, "They took her."

Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she went unconscious as something tumbled from her hand and clattered onto the marble floor below. Azriel scrambled to grab it, ignoring the way his blood trailed behind him as he crawled across the floor. His wound had burst back open, the charred remains of his clothes revealing the damaged skin beneath.

"She's lost a lot of blood, High Lord." One of the healers spoke, "Her leg is very damaged, but she will live. I promise."

As if on cue, Amren appeared with two more healers with her. Finally, I stepped back from Feyre, still keeping my eyes trained on her as I let the healers work. I was shaking, something inside of me irreconcilable, as i stared at the broken body of my mate.

"Rhysand." Mor called for me. I ignored her, eyes still focused, heart still pounding. I watched Feyre's wounds begin to close as the healers picked the glass from them.

"Rhysand." Mor called again, and in the background Azriel was sobbing.

Mate

Mate

Mate

My mate is hurt.

Mor's voice cut through my thoughts, deadly, serious, and grave, "Rhysand, you need to look at this."

I snapped my head around, and finally looked at the object that Feyre dropped. It should have been impossible for her to have. I'd buried it with my sister's body nearly 500 years ago.

Black swirling metal, violet stones glimmering in the faelight, a moonstone sitting at the center. It had been crafted for her specifically, and I so rarely saw her without it.

Mor held my sister's crown in her hands.

The memory of what Feyre had said flashed in my mind again.

The king of Hybern did this.

He took her.

And Azriel, speaking her name in his sleep, waking up screaming.

She was here.

She was here.

My vision faded to black as I hit the marble floor beneath me. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

★彡[ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ - ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ]彡★

[1moreff-creator]

Taking a "Shot" at the DR:OS Prediction Game!

In case you're not aware, a post on the av-multifangan account explained an interesting prediction game: after reading the prologue, you give your predictions on killers, victims, death chapter, survivors and mastermind. I am, to be clear, really bad at this, but I decided to give it a "shot" (heh) anyways! Here are my predictions, with explanations under the cut!

(I put chapter number too because this format is not colorblind friendly otherwise lol)

CW: Murder, death, insane predictions. Spoilers for DR THH, DR2, DRV3, and DROS Prologue

[Also, in case you're curious, I didn't check accirax's guesses, nor the guesses of this Jonas fellow mentioned in the original post, before making this post. I only checked their mm guesses 'cuz I was curious :v I'll check them out after to see how different they are :)]

Survivors and MM

We're starting with survivors because sometimes it's easier to start at the end and workshop a way to get there.

First is the only freebie on the list: Ellis. As stated in the linked post, because of DROS' format, the protagonist must be a survivor. Which means I'll only get 15/16 wrong, nice.

After that... I have no idea :v

Mark is here because of... pattern recognition, really. In canon DR, out of three Ultimate ???s, two were survivors (Kirigiri and Hinata) and one died in CH1 (Amami. No I don't know why I'm listing them by last name). However, Amami knew he was the Ultimate Survivor (more or less? Been a while since I've seen anything DRV3 related) so he actually doesn't count. I think you can see my reasoning here lmao.

However, there's a reason Ultimate ???s have a tendency to survive. Simply put, if the mastermind (MM) chooses to erase this person's memories particularly, they're presumably somewhat important. Maybe connected to the nature of the killing game, even. And so, they're usually around for the CH6 reveal of what their missing memories might mean for the larger plot.

It's not perfect, obviously. There's many ways to kill Mark before CH6. Talent reveal can happen posthumously, which was the case with Amami for example. They can also happen earlier in the killing game, allowing Mark to react to it without surviving to CH6. And more! However, I have very little to go off of, and Mark's "talent" gives me something to argue for their survival, at least. That's more than basically everyone else in the cast bar Ellis, so they're going here :v

So, now that we're officially out of okay-ish guesses, let's dive into the insanity! Starting with my hail mary, absolutely most-probably-wrong MM guess, Grace!

Now, this cast has a few "suspicious" characters. Robert has the whole "plain" thing going on that Tsumugi had, Aidan's half and half color scheme could be a nod to mm leanings, Ultimate ???s like Mark are always decent guesses, and the setting being a casino makes Antonia a prime target for MM accusations. Of course, these might be too obvious for an MM, but that's not extremely disqualifying. There's also the argument that the attempt on the mm's part to replicate Hope's Peak throws suspicion on the Impressionist, Taylor; and that Paris' talent being related to secrets and stuff could be considered mm-ish. Plus, Paris is the 13th student by Countdown Order (which I can't help but notice is the order of this list when read left to right and up to down), and 13 is an unlucky number, compared to Ellis' lucky number seven. Thee two might be a bit better. Finally, since she's even less obvious, I also vibe with accirax's guess of Cass, but I can't think of many arguments beyond Vibes for them (which is valid, tbf).

But if we're going to take Countdown Numbers into account, 4 is also an unlucky number (related to death even!), which gets us to Grace. There are a few reasons I believe they could be the MM.

First and foremost; given some of my previous posts, I just find it really funny for me to call the Clockmaker of all people the MM. If you've ever touched a clock, it's on sight with me, apparently xD

Now that we've established that, I do actually think there's a good argument for Grace!MM... by the standards of any MM theory pre-CH1, at least. Beyond the previously mentioned Countdown Number thing, they're the person in the prologue found next to the Movie Theater room, which was locked and didn't really have anything interesting to look at. Could it be they didn't feel the need to explore, because they already knew everything about the building? They also mentioned they liked the directness of the message on the cork board outside the Movie Theater room, when that's the exact thing Vanessa complained about Monoquin earlier. These are, to be extremely clear, really silly points. But they're there! And compared to people like Jeff, who have somewhat disqualifying introductions on the mm front, it's not a horrible start.

Another point is that, so far, Grace is the only person to have definitively shot down Ellis' flirting, by talking about their boyfriend. If Ellis is Lucky, then maybe it makes sense for the universe to stop him from flirting with the mm... maybe. This point is even sillier than the others, especially considering Grace isn't even the only character Ellis has no opportunity to swoon, as for example Vivi is aro/ace.

The next point is funny. See, I joke about the talent, but Grace being a Clockmaker could be twisted into suspiciousness if you're mentally unwell like me.

Usually one of the tools I consider best for MM predictions is thematic analysis (in other words, what kind of mm would best fit the themes of a work), but I can't exactly do that in the Prologue when there's very little set up in terms of themes and such.

Unless. Unless we go insane.

The fangan... is called One Shot. So a theme of the fangan (bear with me here) could be irreversibility. That you only get "one shot" to do certain things or something. Which fits decently well with the idea of time, this unstoppable march forward that can never be turned back. Right? You get the idea? And, and, because the DROS killing game is the sixth in-universe killing game ran by the mastermind(s), another theme could be repetition. As in, the killing games happen "like clockwork."

...

Me rn

Yeah this is maybe the stupidest set of "evidence points" I've ever used for any theory ever. Like, that's an insane soul read on what the themes of DROS could actually be, I'm fully expecting to be completely wrong on that lol. I actually find Grace!MM pretty unlikely, but I currently feel like all MM theories are almost equally unlikely, so if I have to pick one... I'm gonna pick the funniest one and continue my "beef" with Clockmakers lmao

Anyways, so remember those themes I'm pulling right out my ass and struggling to even pretend there's the slightest chance I'm actually right about them? How about we draw more probably wrong conclusions from them? Because if irreversibility is a main theme, then Vivi, who is interested in "conquering death", could fit well as a survivor. After all, you only get "one shot" at living, and she has to accept that, right...?

God I'm so bad at these.

Finally, Taylor.

I have no idea why Taylor's here.

It's sort of process of elimination, more than anything. I'm not confident about the rest of the kill order, but I feel I can't fill the fifth survivor spot (or fourth if you count the MM as separate) with any sort of actual reasoning, so... uh, I just picked my current favorite out of the characters I feel are most plausible as survivors. And that's Taylor, apparently.

Of course, the counterargument is that if they're already taking charge somewhat by proposing the breakfast meetup in the prologue, then that might not bode well for their survival and they might die soon. It's definitely decent reasoning, but... I mean, the story can go literally in any direction atp, so it's not impossible Taylor survives regardless. Just let me have the silly impressionist okay they're cool :p

Btw, funny thing about survivor predictions in this fangan. Usually a good way to build survivor predictions is by trying to balance the genders of the surviving cast, as generally there's a more or less equal split of girls and boys in the final trial, and thus remaining at the end. However, there are very few girls and boys in this killing game. In fact, no one in the surviving cast I predicted uses exclusively he/him or she/her pronouns. This isn't even the only configuration where this happens! Not even close! I find that amusing xD

Now that I've already probably gained no less than 25 points with these guesses alone, let's move on to the even harder part; death order!

Chapter 1: Vanessa - Robert

I chose Vanessa as the first victim because she is (I believe? more or less) the only character to have had, count them, three whole positive interactions with other characters on screen! Her chat with Ellis, giving Mark their name, and helping Taylor speak up at the end of the chapter. She's too nice, so she's dying. Immediately. Because she's one of the only people whose death could have a legitimate impact on the cast even this early, at least from what we've seen. Obviously I could be wrong but that's a given by now.

As for Robert, well look. I'm perfectly ready to be proven horrendously wrong about this, but I kinda struggle to see how his shtick of being perfectly normal could continue to be all that interesting post-CH1. It feels more like a gimmick you use for one chapter, then make Robert the killer to make the point that "if the most normal person here murdered someone, anyone could murder :O" and get paranoia going on the rest of the cast. Again, I'm probably completely wrong about that, but it's an angle I find plausible, so I'm picking it.

Robert's also like one of my top four picks for fifth survivor. Just so we're clear on how unsure about my guesses I am :v

Chapter 2: Harper - Cass

Harper and Noah met before the killing game. Even if they don't know much about each other's lives, they seem to be on pretty good terms. That means the pair probably isn't making it past CH2 lol.

Out of the two, I find Harper slightly more likely to be the CH2 victim. Vibes only on that one. I guess it makes sense in my mind that the Philanthropist is more likely to become more well-liked quicker than the Frat Boy, and as we've established, a character making friends is a good indication they might die, because their death might impact the cast more. Obviously with only the prologue, it's impossible to properly guess about any character dynamics beyond maybe CH1, but I try to pick my guesses with some amount of reasoning so.

As for Cass...

Listen I have no idea what to think of Cass. For some reason my mind comes up entirely blank when I think about predictions for them, or even when I try to think about anything about her character in general.

Why am I putting them here, then? Simply put, I could see them being an interesting foil to Harper, and it's not uncommon for character foils to kill each other in these killing games. Think Mondo - Chihiro, Ryoma - Kirumi, Kaito - Kokichi (now I'm listing them by first name because I hate consistency /j), just for some easy-to-see canon examples.

The foil here could potentially be that Cass might be (and just so we're clear on this, this is an immense extrapolation from like two lines of dialogue and could be horribly wrong) a more money-oriented person, based on these lines:

Cass [Prologue]: Lucky Student, huh? That’s an all-around useful talent. Still though, it’s weird… Why is no one here talented at making things, or having something to sell…?  Ellis: Hey, who says I’m not talented at “making” something? Cass: I should clarify, I’m referring to making something physical. Something that one might, say, need someone to critique and/or help them market to higher ups

Cass [about the Customer Service Desk]: That can’t be a sound business practice…

While Harper is a Philanthropist whose likes include charities. So... boom. Foils.

Make no mistake. I doubt I'm cooking. I've probably overshot the kitchen and jumped directly into hell. Two or three lines are far from enough to properly guess what a character's deal is, especially when it's something so specific. This is not so much a genuine prediction and more so me grasping at straws to put Cass... somewhere and not have it be just up to the roll of the die. Unlike...

Chapter 3: Davis & Paris - Jeff

My CH3 guesses are nothing but Vibes Only hail maries. The reasoning here is that I don't know where else to put these people, so they're going here. I mean, putting them around the middle reduces the amounts of chapter points I can get from them under this scoring system, right? (<- Not actually the reasoning I used but y'know).

Davis, at least, has some form of... conflict? Thing? Going on from the very prologue, with him being clearly uncomfortable with Ellis' flirting and stuff. That could set up some form of early game character exploration, and that can imply an early-ish death after he gets explored. That or he survives. Uh... So he's going in CH3.

Jeff being a killer makes sense with him being the Ultimate Absentee, and thus wanting to leave. You could argue that might be too predictable, which- maybe, but that doesn't mean bad. The setup's there for him to not make it to the end... but still survive to see the pool open, since they were interested in it. So CH3.

Paris is here because I needed a second victim :v

Chapter 4: Noah - Aidan

It's not uncommon to guess that if one half of a pair dies, the other will survive, so you might think Noah as a survivor makes sense. And it does! But that reasoning didn't save Taka, so...

Again with these two, I am very unsure as to what exactly will happen with them. This, too, is a very Vibes only hail mary guess. I could see them going at practically any point past maybe CH1, but Aidan's probably gonna last for the sake of Conflict and... I don't know what to do about Noah so he's here :v

I can't even be sure about their roles! I could definitely see both of them as victims and killers, though I should note I think Noah being a killer is more likely if he dies before Harper, which is why I put Aidan as the killer for this prediction set.

Of course, this assumes Aidan can overcome his Contrarian urges to throw all weapons out the window when given the opportunity, but I believe in him! (/Slay the Princess ref).

Chapter 5: Kennedy - Antonia

You might think my confidence in guesses would go down as the chapters go up (barring Ellis and maybe Mark of course), as it's harder to predict things further down the road because of all the stuff that can happen in between the Prologue and the later chapters. And while that's generally true, Kennedy is actually one of the guesses I think is most defensible. Not necessarily more likely to be right, just easier to argue for.

I struggle to see her reaching CH6, since you'd probably want the protagonist to take center stage in uncovering all the mysteries behind the killing game, and having the Ultimate Conspiracy Theorist around could complicate that. However, if he reaches CH5, he can at least start uncovering the mysteries as a way to set up for CH6, and I can even see the angle of the MM specifically making a motive against them to get rid of them. That could even be the inciting incident for CH6, a la "Junko wrongfully 'executing' Naegi" (now I'm using both first and last names because I'm Evil) from THH.

However, a lot of that is probably the kind of bs Kennedy herself would say, and it's never a good sign when you start sounding like the Ultimate Conspiracy Theorist, so I'll leave it alone now.

Finally, Antonia...

Look, in my heart of hearts, I want her to be a survivor. I think it could work, especially with how intertwined her talent is with the setting and the protag's own talent. And in fact, those very reasons are the logical explanation of why she's this far in, all the way as the CH5 killer.

(The emotional explanation being that I just want her to last a while :v)

But... come on.

Ellis: … So, is there some kinda prize for winning? Other than our escape, I mean. Antonia: There must be. If it’s a “game,” there has to be an incentive to win.

It's the damn prologue and she's already considering prizes for murder honestly CH5 might be a little too optimistic T_T

---

Anyways, I hope this doesn't sound as completely unhinged as it reads in my mind lmao. And I also hope you enjoyed the objectively buckwild and most-likely wrong predictions, even if I'm probably going to end up with a ridiculous amounts of points at the end! See you!

[zahri-melitor]

Prelude to Joker War

Thinking about the state of play as I go into this:

City of Bane: notably the supporting characters who were involved in this were Damian, Tim, Helena, Babs, Duke and Cass. They're currently the crew who were worrying about Bruce's state of mind. Alfred is dead; half the rogues have recently got to romp around the streets controlling things and clearly sort of miss it.

Batman: Pennyworth RIP just made clear for everyone that Jason, Tim, Damian and Babs are all supposed to be sorta annoyed at Bruce for various reasons right now.

Tynion's lead in to the event in Batman has been focused on the plans of someone called The Designer, whose outfit has been giving me serious Vandal Savage vibes (it is very very like what he's been swanning around in in the current Zdarsky run), but at present has been revealed to NOT be Vandal. Sus. The Designer's thing is that he helps villains improve their plans, and back in the Early Days (TM) - it's pitched as Robin!Dick period, but the costumes look 90s - he helped Joker, Riddler, Catwoman and Penguin refine overarching dream plans for how to take down Batman and conquer Gotham. Someone's just had all four of them activate those plans: assassins going after major political figures with the intention of getting Penguin to be Mayor; Riddler locked the city down with a grand crossword puzzle that was supposed to be a labyrinth for Bruce but that he solved on the fly (oh Eddie you are in a bad place right now, with this both having Year Zero vibes and also being shirtless and scarred); Selina wanted to become the richest person alive by...stealing Bruce Wayne's wealth for herself; and Joker's busy with an evil plan to exploit the other three's plans and 'become the devil'.

In Detective Comics Two-Face is currently having issues where he's concealing information between his personalities and is currently running a Two-Face cult based on his coin flips in the bowels of the courthouse; Bruce has just discovered this and got captured, and the cultists are following the orders of the coin flips.

Dick has just been brainwashed and is transitioning out of Ric Grayson as a personality - he is currently trying to distinguish between memories of being raised by William Cobb as a Talon and being raised by Bruce in a combined post-Crisis&Rebirth shaped timeline (Dick was definitely fostered around 10, he just confirmed a bunch of Bludhaven memories that he definitely did not have before this storyline started).

Babs is very very confused right now (a bunch of her writers clearly aren't talking), but she's at the present working for Congresswoman Luciana Alejo and exhibiting a very 'it's not gentrification unless it happened AFTER I arrived' attitude. She's mad that Bruce is busy rebuilding half of Gotham after City of Bane tore it apart, because...she doesn't trust that the rebuild will happen in all communities? Because systemic racism and classism or something? Even though she can just talk to Bruce? I dunno, it's a whole plot that could be sorted out if Babs raised her concerns with Bruce and asked him a few questions, someone she's known for more than a decade.

Oh and Selina is also getting dragged around quite a bit by the demands of the plot, from King, where she was back to essentially dating Bruce, everything's fine in City of Bane, to her own title, where she's had to leave Villa Hermosa as everything became too hot for her to handle and she's just started a roadtrip across country with Maggie (and Ram V is about to pick up the book), to Tynion's story where she's stealing all of Bruce's money because...I can't actually tell? She's been forced into setting off her plan by Joker?

In any case, there are a lot of balls in the air, and I hate to say it but it looks like Joker is about to crash everything in a fascinating manner.

[dailycass-cain]

Spirit World #6 concluded the series this past week. Did it end on a high note? How was Cass within it? Well, all answers will be found here...

I love that this series fills the final gaps of questions I have for certain characters in the series. Namely, Wan Yujing's motivations, WHY the Jade Court are so meh due to Po Po's warnings back in #4. and how this ALL ties into the origins of Xanthe Zhou.

But like poetry, it also ties into Cass as into what she was going through in #1. Said issue, Cass was lost, but also feeling awful in helping slay a creature (even dark) and it took a slight toll on her.

Here in #6, it all circles back.

Seeing why Wan's desperation. Seeing the souls she's trapped. Seeing the Jade Court's inability to "want" to save the situation. All it ties into this isn't a simple solution of just slaying the demon.

But this doesn't just tie into Cass, but also the series' central character Xanthe. We get their full origin here. The mystery all pulled back and the scope of their powers revealed.

Writer Alyssa Wong sprinkled teases of Xanthe's origins throughout, and here they are on full display. You can also see why they keep company with John Constantine but also now open themselves to Cassandra Cain.

Why these characters just gell so nicely to each other complimenting it all. With how Xanthe finds the way to end this all.

For now at least.

The ramifications of this issue interestingly bring up new ideas for the DCU at large. Both in the mystical portion and well in Cass (more on that soon).

I find the whole mystical area of DC fascinating because they aren't just bound to one corner. Each magical user always brings something new to the table. Xanthe Zhou is just another character that I hope more tales are showcased with the character going forward.

The fact that well, not everything is tied up at the end leaves me to think that Wong has still so many more stories to tell of Xanthe and Spirit World itself. We've only touched the first layer of that.

To that, I hope allows the creative team to return and tell more tales.

The artist for the series, Haining has been exceptional with the various designs and actions throughout. Like I'm still in awe of the designs used or even how horrific Wan's demonic can be but Haining brings a level of cracks of her humanity through the body horror drawn.

That's not even bringing up the fluidity to the action we've seen throughout the series.

Every bit of the creative team brought their A-game to the table in telling something truly unique. Like I really want more.

And you get that there MIGHT be more.

Clearly, Wong lays seeds at the end of the Verdant Sorcess not at all pleased with the new status quo of Spirit World going forward.

I'm REALLY curious about their origins now with the reveal of the prior ones.

Not only that but in the case of Cass, only one of her subplots is resolved in the series. I mean yeah it's the big one: she gets to go back home.

But the "missing" time of her being in Spirit World (due to Batgirl Vol. 1 #72)? Why incident is all screwed (Shiva never killed Cass in that particular issue)? What new memories Cass lost in #3? Was Shen posing as Steph?

It feels like Wan found her, that while she was absorbing Cass, THAT's when Shiva brought her back. But it still doesn't answer fully what occurred with Cass during that lost time?

These are riddles still left unanswered, and it can't be coincidental given what next year being. So hopefully maybe THEN they are.

Please let Alyssa Wong cook DC!

Wong truly has an amazing grasp on the character and is the first to really bridge the lingering cracks Batgirl Vol. 1 left and bring it into this modern era.

Regardless, Spirit World was an exceptional series. It was something I truly needed to wash the sadness of Batgirls ending and another event douring the characterization of Cass.

I really hope DC goes all out in collecting this series. Show us all the Haining concept art.

Give me some words by Wong on how this series came to be. How they developed Xanthe Zhou. Give me it all!

.....

I've become Shen. My greed knows no bounds. 😅

Anyway, to those who haven't read this series. You now have the full excuse to read it all in one sitting. It's even BETTER when you do that actually. To those who read it like me keep hyping this and the other new minis DC created this year.

We need more of this!

[felixora]

Some thoughts on my Sandman x Batfam collab/crossover (I have no idea what would be the appropriate name for this, coz they are part of tge same DC universe but uhhhh it's not like they interacted in the Prime universe... It's complicated, ok)

As I've mentioned before, all of Batfam members have met Death in her physical form (be it because of their own death or someone dear to them). That being said, not all of them know that this is, well, the Death. I imagine that Bruce knows for sure what sort of entity he met; Jason and Damian most likely are familiar with her as well and would recognise her on spot.

Perhaps Jason engages Death in small conversations about absolutely random stuff from his life, whenever they meet - Death would indulge him, because she would be curious about how the boy uses this 2nd chance to live a life. Damian for sure would have drawn her some pieces of art and left it on his desk, just to find later the art missing - Death would cherish this gift and hold it safely among other few gifts she received throughout time.

Now Tim. Tim is a menace, when it comes to Endless. And it all has to do, that he simply doesn't wish any part of his life to be determined by some immortal entity or part of their influence. Dream trying to entice Tim to finally get some sleep after 3 straight sleepless days of working on a case? "Fuck you, Morpheus, I'll just buy more Extra+++ energy drinks". Desire revealing all of Tim's hidden wishes and granting him an easy way of achieving them? "Fuck you too, I'll go the hard way instead, probably commit some war crimes and then lock myself away in a cave, to reconsider all of my life choices, which will eventually end up it ignoring my personal needs for X amount of time, till next crisis".

Richard is well-known and respected by the Endless, though he is absolutely clueless to this. Like. Zero awareness. (Also, after Alfred's death and Dick opening a memorial and foundation in his honour, I imagine Death would have stopped by, just to say "he is proud of you and wants you to know you did great")

Cass kinda reminds Death and Morpheus of Delirium? Just sometimes. Which potentially could end up in situations, when some of the Endless would adress her as Delirium, like a part of habit (they know for sure she's not some sort of mortal manifestation of Delirium, with their Omnipresence, but sometimes she would remind them of their sister a bit to much)

[ghostpebble]

OK IM SOBBING OVER THIS ONE GUYS

IF YOUVE EVER HEARD THIS SONG THEN IM NOT SURE IF I NEED TO EXPLAIN WHY THIS FITS HIRO AND BH6 IN GENERAL SO MUCH BUT HERE'S JUST A FEW BULLET POINTS:

- "SHADOWS SETTLE ON THE PLACE THAT YOU LEFT" HIRO TALKING ABOUT TADASHI

- "ONE DAY WE'LL REVEAL THE TRUTH THAT ONE WILL DIE BEFORE HE GETS THERE" HIRO. TALKING. ABOUT. TADASHI.

- "COLLECTING PICTURES FROM A FLOOD THAT WRECKED OUR HOME; IT WAS A FLOOD THAT WRECKED THIS HOME" HIRO, CASS, AND THE CREW HOLDING ONTO MEMORIES OF TADASHI AFTER HIS DEATH

- "AND YOU CAUSED IT. AND YOU CAUSED IT." THIS IS HIRO TALKING ABOUT CALLAGHAN. CALLAGHAN DID IT.

- "MY EYES ARE DAMP FROM THE WORDS YOU LEFT RINGING IN MY HEAD, WHEN YOU BROKE MY CHEST." HIRO REMEMBERING OVER AND OVER TADASHI SAYING 'SOMEONE HAS TO HELP' AND CONTINUING TO SAY THAT

- "AND IF YOU'RE IN LOVE, THEN YOU ARE THE LUCKY ONE. CAUSE MOST OF US ARE BITTER OVER SOMEONE." NOT ONLY IS THIS HIRO AND TADASHI, BUT THIS IS ALSO CALLAGHAN AND ABIGAIL/KREI, OBAKE AND HIS PAST SELF/GRANVILLE, AND DIANE AMARA AND LIV AMARA.

- "SETTING FIRE TO OUR INSIDES FOR FUN TO DISTRACT OUR HEARTS FROM EVER MISSING THEM, BUT I'M FOREVER MISSING HIM." DO I NEED TO EXPLAIN THIS ONE?? DO I???

- "AND YOU CAUSED IT."

GOD THIS SONG IS SO GOOD FOR BIG HERO 6 WHY IS THIS NOT OUR FANDOM SONG BESIDES IMMORTALS

[pellucid-constellations]

AAAAAHHH omg I can't believe it!!! Chapter nine is finally HERE! 😭

The way I wasn't expecting this reveal, I thought she would confess her feelings for Az to Castian and made him promise to not tell anyone. Then, they'll be mutual pinning for a long time and Cass would feel so conflicted while Azriel would know they've discussed something, but thinking it was her saying that she only sees him as a friend or something.

But I really love that you made her express her discontent with how they were all acting as if she wasn't really there with them. Making her feel like an outcast and that the way she currently is, is inadequate until she regains her memories and return to her old self.

I can't imagine the fear Azriel must've felt through all the situation. 😭😭😭

First, his mate doesn't remember anything. Then he's afraid she'll never love him romantically again while she friend zones him, she disappears at the market-town-street thing and comes back after hours of search with a bloody nose. After, he shoots himself in the foot by saying he has a mate, she sees fragments of her own things ( which she doesn't remember) thinking it was another woman's owning and he lives with the reminder that she can't recall all or any of their moments together previously. While simultaneously, relieving something that happened 200 something years ago where she had a similar thing happen to her. To finally collapse like she had been shoot after revealing a crucial part of the truth.

Can my baby have a break? 🥺 He deserves the world!!! 💖✨

How are you girlie? Is everything okay in your life?

I'm curious. Did you forgot about the plot, what you wanted to write it in continue and re-invent/ rethink the rest of the chapters or did you have notes and after re reading, you remembered the direction that you wanted to take?

-Sending you love and hugs across this post! 🥰💖✨

Yesss thank you for reading and sorry for that wait!! 🩷

I definitely went back and forth with how I wanted their relationship to progress, but even with the reveal happening there is still mutual pining in the near future 👀👀

The reader’s feelings in this chapter were so important!! I wanted her to express them after so much build up and I felt like the negative overtaking the positive feelings in the room was crucial to show for her. Like she gets a piece of herself back and they only ask for more??? Rude 😤

Omg when you write it all out in an ask like that I feel like a monster 😂 poor az <\3 don’t worry all will be well (eventually hehe)

And thank you for asking :) I’m doing really well! Just super busy with school and work (I want to graduate immediately). And for the plot—I remember what I want to happen and I have a chapter outline with a list of things I want to circle back to, but I mostly reread everything for the vibes!! I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything and make sure my tone wasn’t shifting too much. I make some changes along the way for sure though!!

Sorry this reply is literally an essay hahah. Thank you again for reading!! 🩷🩷

[shadowqueen402]

Amaunts Fatale: Part 11

Balan hummed in deep thought at Aria's suggestion. He was also keeping in mind of what Iben had explained to him earlier. "Odds are, Lance must have a recipe for this drink," Balan theorized. "He must be using an ingredient that causing others to no longer properly think."

"That explains why the others that are back at Lance's hideout refuse to leave," Yuri said.

"You think this ingredient is also the reason why Wizeman was here earlier?" Leo asked. "Because he assumed that we have it?"

"Most likely not," NiGHTS said. "Wizeman was well aware of Balan's and Lance's existence. So odds are, he must know something about Lance that we don't."

"C-Can I phone my friends?" Emma asked Balan. "I-I want to let them know that I'm okay."

"I suppose that it won't hurt," Aria said. "But after that, you have to turn off your phone. Lance is capable of tracing your calls."

Emma nodded and took out her cellphone. Then, she dialed up Kaylo. Soon, a frantic Kaylo was heard on the other end of the line. "Emma!? Are you okay!?"

"I am, now," Emma said. "I escaped with the help of three friends; Iben, Yuri, and Cass. I found Leo, he's okay. I'm currently staying with Balan until it's safe for me to come home. But I just want to call to let you and the others know that I'm okay."

Kaylo breathed a sigh of relief. "That's great to hear," She said. "And it's nice that you found three of the people that went missing."

"Yeah, Iben revealed some information," Emma said. "Lance was luring the missing people to his hideout. He would even use a drink to wipe their memories."

"A drink?" Kaylo asked. "Thanks for the heads up, Emma. Can you tell Balan that me and the others wish to help?"

"Okay," Emma said. "But after I end the call, I have to turn off my phone. Lance can trace my calls."

"Got it." Kaylo and Emma hung up. Then, Emma turned off her phone.

"That was my friend, Kaylo," Emma said. "She wants to know if she and the others can help us."

"I would let them help," Yuri said. "They may know something as well. Plus, you can explain about Wizeman."

"Sounds good to me," NiGHTS said.

Kaylo belongs to @kayssweetdreams

Aria belongs to me.

[thatstheproblemwithnapkinman]

i have more of a logic that everyone but bruce is in on it, giving him stories of things bruce has done when no one else is around

like dick telling stories of when he was first taken in a bruce had no idea what he was doing so dick got into the most insane situations all the time

tim talking about the sleep deprived days when bruce would walk past and utter something so ridiculous or like something confidential from wayne enterprises that 12 year old timmy just knew now

damian didn’t have much to say but he would talk about his father constantly tripping over the animals that he somehow missed which he shouldn’t because bruce is batman

duke not wanting to reveal much because he’s new in the house but that bruce sometimes called all his kids the wrong names and they all just went along with it, even if it was wild that he was called dick half the time

cass giving stories of how she would make him jump and he would drop and spill everything in his hands, or that when he was tired he would mix up ASL and BSL and so his signs made no sense

steph just giving it all with details about how he was when her and tim dated, and how he is now with bernard. that and she knows all about him and selena and how they spend their time together

and of course, alfred would give stories of bruce when he was younger, of him being a rebellious teenager, movies and shows he enjoyed that would be considered embarrassing, all the juicy gossip that had all the bat kids either crying with laughter or wanting to bleach their brains

jason would write it under a pseudonym and it was an instant best seller. everyone in gotham has read it, and there is a rumour that a sequel is in the works. jason has about 5 books worth of content, he is planning on releasing it all

it does wonders for keeping ‘bruce is batman’ a secret because there is no way someone like that could be batman. most people who even thought it a possibility have dismissed it

bruce loves the book, it’s something of jason’s that his family all worked on, and it lets him relive mostly happy memories with all his kids

jason writing a book called 'the truth behind gotham's billionaire brat: bruce wayne'

and most of the other batfam are worried he'll reveal that bruce is batman but the whole book is just full of stories of bruce doing dumb stuff; like the time he burnt his hand making tea when alfred was ill, or the time he sat down and watched glee with his kid once and got super invested in it, rooting for kurt hummel

[sunkissedscribbles]

Prejudiced - Chapter Nine

this is only a part of the series, the previous and next chapters can be found here 

a/n: getting messy.

word count: 2618

tw: swearing, google translated italian, kiara, mentions of sex, alcohol and drug use (mentioned)

summary: cass experiencing the after-effects of alcohol probably for the first time and the way her memory system works confuses her, while in the meanwhile, they are getting ready for the upcoming yule ball, and enzo's secret gets revealed.

<previous chapter          next chapter>

dividers by @chachachannah

The hungover dies down at its lazy pace, but excruciatingly slowly for me as I'm not used to it in the slightest. So, for the next day, I don't even attempt to return to my dorm and just lounge about in Ki's bed. The memory of the kiss I shared with her last night left an odd lingering feeling on my body. However, ever since yesterday morning, I feel like she, Mattheo and Theo have been holding some information back from me, and I feel left out again.

Thinking hurts my brain in this state but I can't seem to stop overdoing it anyway as my thoughts rush with what has got into Enzo lately, why he isolated himself from us four. I can't believe he's still mad at me for kissing Mattheo – which he doesn't even have anything to do with in the first place. He's started acting strangely in the past month and a half, constantly disappearing from dinner, sometimes not even showing up – which was my thing – and not coming to hang out with us most of the time. And I'm just beating around the bush, trying to corner him to have a chat. I miss my best friend. I'm trying to figure out what I've done wrong, and where I went amiss. But I'm glad he came last night as it's been a while.

Mattheo on this exact period started hooking up with girls he's barely ever even talked to, which is really not a secret, and I don't know why but it just bothers me. Every time I'm reminded of this information, it leaves a lingering feeling of frustration, jealousy and the thought of when my time will finally come for a relationship. Kiara tells me my feelings are valid yet they seem so surreal to me because hell, I'm only fifteen; I've got my whole ahead of me for sex and everything, don't I? The O.W.L.s are this year anyway and I still have no idea what I want to do after Hogwarts. I'd like to be an Auror but being good at DADA doesn't mean I'd excel at this job. My poems are in a very initial phase as well, I wouldn't make a great poet anyway – I might have to marry rich and have a sugar daddy instead, as Ki likes to joke about it.

The thoughts about what to do after school consume my mind for days, even when McGonagall tells us about the Yule Ball. Merlin, it's only mid-November and people are already signing up to stay for the Christmas break simply because of this rare upcoming event. Girls are gushing about who they want to go with, the boys are yet to ask anyone, dodging the question.

The news of the Yule Ball of course comes with tons of girls wanting to go with Mattheo, Theo or Enzo, out of their popularity, place in the food chain and because they are 'fine as hell,' as I've heard Lavender Brown from a year below me refer to them. This thing wouldn't really bother me if the girls in question would let me eat my lunch without addressing snarky looks at me for simply sitting with my friends, or if they'd stop trying to get me to play matchmaker for them and set them up with either of the boys.

"So, who are you going with?" Theo looks at me over the lunch table on Thursday. It's only me and the boys yet – Kiara is having a really important conversation about black holes with Professor Harper in the Astronomy classroom. Not that I couldn't talk about spaghettification endlessly if she asked me...

"Me?" I raise my brows at the boy across me, looking up from my soup, and then snort a brief laugh. "Bold of you to assume anyone has asked me to the Ball. Why, who are you going with?"

Theo shrugs. "Dunno. I guess I'm going alone, so I can dance with everyone."

I roll my eyes and scoff. "There won't be another event like this. This is your only chance to ask someone special. You can play Casanova any other day."

He smirks mischievously, "In this case would you–"

"No way," I laugh and shake my head before it decreases into a small, encouraging smile. "You can't take me simply because you are afraid to ask someone out. You're afraid of rejection, I know, but if you really like her, show it, Theo," I sigh. "I'm not talking about these grandiose gestures like a speaker over your head," here both boys share a look, confused by my muggle film reference, "Just flowers maybe."

"It's November, there aren't any flowers, dumbass," he rolls his eyes as he mutters.

"You're a wizard, fucker," Mattheo rolls his eyes at his best friend, to which Theo shoves him.

"See? Be creative. Show her your best side."

Theo only lets out a gruff and I decide to drop the topic instead.

"You two have been awfully quiet," I look at Enzo and Mattheo, Enzo sitting across me next to Theo, the latter on my right.

They share a look and after a moment of silence, Mattheo shrugs and Enzo starts talking.

"We're not taking anyone."

I raise my brows.

"What about Daphne?" I turn to Mattheo. He's talked about her before. Briefly, however, but he has.

"Not my type," Matt shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant about the topic. I find it weird, I have no idea why all three of them are trying to dodge it and shrug it off by not taking their only chance. Or they just see it differently since they are guys but I strongly believe they'll regret it if they don't ask someone to the ball later.

"Since when?" I frown at him.

"Salazar's balls, just drop it. She's pretty but she's shallow, alright? Too much like Lavender Brown," he barks back and I mutter a 'Sorry' before he sighs and shakes his head and I move on to the brunette across me.

"Enz, you?" he shrugs.

"Rather going alone. No one has really caught my attention."

I sigh and shake my head before returning to my soup in silence.

Theo though insists on keeping the conversation running, but I have no idea what his intention with it is. "So, really no one has asked you?" he asks and I shake my head. He frowns. "They're stupid not to."

I frown at his statement and shake my head. "I'll get over it." It's clear that under the tough facade I'm trying to keep up so desperately there is a vulnerable girl who wants nothing more than to feel like she's a priority for someone and not the last idea – just for once. Maybe the problem is my appearance; I'm not skinny or pretty enough to be the love at first sight in someone else's story. I know it's not the goal to be that type, yet my heart aches for someone to look at me and think how pretty I am. This beauty could be my eyes alone, maybe my smile I despise so much, or the overall image of my body and face. But no, they'll have to get to know me – which isn't a bad thing, I know relationships aren't based on looks. And I want something meaningful, but is it such a big request to have someone think I'm at least pretty, if not beautiful. But gosh, I just want to experience that iconic ‘he grabs my hand, looks me in the eye and gently says ‘you’re gorgeous’’ for once. I want someone who wants to know what kind of beauty is under my skin because they have already seen how beautiful I am on the outside.

Ki's sudden appearance is what shakes me out of my spiralling thoughts, and the grin on her face tells me a lot more than any words.

"Daddy is daddying," she exclaims with a smirk, taking a seat on my left.

A month passes by quicker than expected with all the schoolwork such as homework, studying, and assignments I have to do besides the dance lessons, frantic dress-hunting through Hogsmeade's clothing shops every weekend with Kiara, and of course, engaging in extracurricular activities, aka partying on the weekends.

Enzo's still a bit distant but he's starting to warm up again, hence the five of us are becoming the group we used to be again. But it doesn't mean he's at every one of the hangouts, like how he wasn't there today either.

I lie down in my bed with a sigh, light-headedly, absent-minded after a night spent drinking and smoking with Ki, and the Theos – yes, Mattheo and Theo started calling themselves this as a joke because they found they were almost always mentioned together, either as Mattheo and Theo, Theo and Mattheo, or by their last names in either sequence.

Sleep takes over my body fast, my already half-lidded eyes closing in an instant as my mind drifts to strange places, all-too-lifelike dreams of Mattheo and I kissing, not aware of Kiara lying down next to me frustratedly. I think I even mutter "Are you alright?" to her but my mind refuses to take her answer in.

I wake up the next morning to my impatient best friend nagging me to get up. First, I refuse to acknowledge her, then roll over but when my methods to go back to sleep fail, I give in and roll back over to face her. My head feels twice its size after last night, and my heart aches for that strangely homey feeling I had in my dream.

"What is that?" I pull the covers higher up on me and stuff them under my chin comfortably with tired eyes and a sleepy voice as I see the black little notebook I'm seeing in her hand.

"This?" she responds with a rhetorical question while shaking the book in her hand with a stern expression, disappointment mixing in her eyes. "Enzo's."

I frown, not quite catching on as to what the connection between the jotter and the look on her face is, but whatever it might be, I know for a fact I won't be too happy about it either.

"So? You stole his diary?" I frown, still not moving a finger from under the warmth of my duvet.

"Could say," she mutters almost angrily as if I didn't take her seriously. But it's just Enzo's journal – why should I be mad about it?

She opens it and starts reading the first page:

"Muggleborn: five points

Half-blood: Ten points

Pure-blood: Twenty points." She then tosses the book into my lap and waits for me to start reading it. I frown and finally sit up, suddenly feeling cold as the covers fall off of my upper body and into my lap.

I flip a page and start reading.

Millicent Bulstrode – 10 p Daphne Greengrass – 20 p Megan Jones – 10 p Mandy Brocklehurst – 10 p Sue Li Lisa Turpin Pansy Parkinson – 20 p Sophie Roper Emma Vane Lavender Brown – 20 p Hermione Granger Parvati Patil – 20 p Padma Patil – 20 p Hannah Abbott – 10 p Susan Bones Sally Smith Katie Bell – 10 p Cho Chang Marietta Edgecombe Angelina Johnson Alicia Spinnet – 10 p

I raise my brows as I flick through the pages filled with girls' names from Hogwarts, and then with a frown, I look at Ki. "What... what's this?" I shake my head., confused but with a feeling that I won't like the explanation.

"Mattheo and Enzo made a bet," she starts, taking a dramatic pause before continuing. "About who to shag more girls."

I feel my heart sink right at that. They what?

"And Berkshire decided to make it a game. He gets points after each girl. Five for fucking a Muggleborn, ten for a Half-blood, and twenty for a Pureblood," she clarifies with a passive-aggressive tone.

I try to make sense of it all, but my head's spinning after last night, the disappointment and disgust washing over my body and making my stomach twist into uncomfortable knots.

"So all names crossed..." I start but she nods immediately, practically cutting me off and confirming my suspicion, that all the girls with crossed names and with some points behind them Enzo has been with.

"He fucked them all," she nods, trying to regain her control over her temper. I feel my mind flooding with questions about this whole thing, and about Enzo, displacing the headache and the odd comfortability of the dream I had. I can't believe he started this. Would he have really changed this much? He was so innocent, so pure – when has he become a womanizer? And why?

"How... how do you know about this?" I shake my head, dumbfounded and disappointed.

"Theo told me. Last night," I frown – I was with them last night. I drank a little but would I really forget a conversation like this?

I shake my head, "Where was I when this happened?"

She stays silent for a moment, and I can't really read her expression, but I see her surprise turn into hesitation. She takes a deep inhale before speaking. "Kissing Mattheo."

I raise my brows and I stiffen up in my whole body. At first, I think she's just joking but then, seeing her serious expression, my eyes widen slightly and my eyebrows stay high on my wrinkling forehead. "I what?"

She nods, chewing her bottom lip for a second before continuing, "Remember the first time we were at the Astronomy Tower with the Theos, drinking and whatnot?" I nod. "You two kissed back then too."

My head starts spinning yet again but I stay stiffened up, in my bed. I start counting, that was over a month ago. And this means those dreams were more like memories... fuck what have I done? I'm gonna mess everything up, again. Why can't I stop kissing Mattheo Riddle? The flashbacks hit me like a double-decker bus and I can't stop thinking about how real the memories are, how this was the fourth time we kissed. Why hasn't anyone said anything about this all this time? They had a whole month. This is what Ki, Mattheo and Theo were trying to keep from me – and probably from Enzo too.

She gestures to me to flip in the book as I regain my composure after a few minutes, and as I do so I am met with our names.

BONUS POINTS – the words read on top of the page in Enzo's messy, capitalized handwriting.

Kiara Bianchi* Cassie Black*

* kiss: 10 p foreplay: 30 p oral: 40 p sex: 50 p

My heart doesn't even have time to sink properly before Ki tears that one page of the notebook out of my hand, and starts out of my room. I need a few seconds to snap out of my numbness and be able to run after my raging best friend with the rest of the notebook in my hand.

She doesn't run – she never does, but right now, she's close to it as she speedwalks down to the dungeons with me behind her. She doesn't stop until Enzo's dorm room and starts banging on the door, yelling in half-Italian and half-English. "Bring your goddamn arse right out you cazzo piccolo disgustoso!"

I however stop farther up the corridor and don't go all the way to Enzo's, frozen in place with a cold, expressionless face, still in PJs and gripping the book in my right.

The doors to Mattheo's and Theo's dorms open and they share a look before Ki's fist has nothing to touch anymore as Enzo's opens as well.

This isn't going to end well.

tag list: @inksoakedparchment @mqstermindswift @reys-letters @girllblogging777

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos

Spock x Non-binary! Empath! Reader

Book 1:

Follows the events of Season One

Prologue: Welcome Aboard the Enterprise

Chapter One: Teenager on Board

Chapter Two: Teenager Causing Mayhem

Chapter Three: Teenager Must Be Stopped

Chapter Four: ESP Infecting

Chapter Five: ESP Commandeering

Chapter Six: ESP Exhausting

Chapter Seven: Distracting Beauties

Chapter Eight: Endangered Beauties

Chapter Nine: Above the Asylum

Chapter Ten: In the Asylum

Chapter Eleven: Out of the Asylum

Chapter Twelve: Galileo Eight Crash

Chapter Thirteen: Galileo Eight Stranded

Chapter Fourteen: Galileo Eight Surviving

Chapter Fifteen: Inhibitions Distorted

Chapter Sixteen: Inhibitions Decayed

Chapter Seventeen: Khan's Rescue

Chapter Eighteen: Khan's Dinner

Chapter Nineteen: Khan's Defeat

Chapter Twenty: Content Paradise

Chapter Twenty-One: Complacent Paradise

Chapter Twenty-Two: Creatures on Deneva

Chapter Twenty-Three: Creatures to Beat

Book 2:

Follows the events of Season Two

Chapter One: Androids Kidnapping

Chapter Two: Androids Disobeying

Chapter Three: Androids Short-Circuiting

Chapter Four: Ancient Aliens

Chapter Five: Scientific Aliens

Chapter Six: Body-Switching Aliens

Chapter Seven: Parallel Universe

Chapter Eight: Parallel People

Chapter Nine: Parallel Emotions

Chapter Ten: Trouble with Bureaucrats

Chapter Eleven: Trouble with Klingons

Chapter Twelve: Trouble with Spies

Chapter Thirteen: Fog of Memory

Chapter Fourteen: Fog of Emotion

Chapter Fifteen: Fog of Facts

Chapter Sixteen: Fog of Fear

Chapter Seventeen: Uptight Ambassadors

Chapter Eighteen: Sick Ambassadors

Chapter Nineteen: Endangered Ambassadors

Chapter Twenty: Planet Exploration

Chapter Twenty-One: Planet Worshipping

Chapter Twenty-Two: Planet Freed

Chapter Twenty-Three: Spock's Illness

Chapter Twenty-Four: Spock's Dream

Chapter Twenty-Five: Spock's Heart

Chapter Twenty-Six: Emotions Sensed

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Emotions Suppressed

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Emotions Revealed

Book 3:

Follows the events of Season Three

Chapter One: Sublime Sight

Chapter Two: Maddening Sight

Chapter Three: Clouded Sight

Chapter Four: Missing Brain

Chapter Five: Controlling Brain

Chapter Six: Returned Brain

Chapter Seven: Isolated Darkness

Chapter Eight: Silent Darkness

Chapter Nine: Healing Darkness

Chapter Ten: Freezing Past

Chapter Eleven: Caging Past

Chapter Twelve: Anger Beginning

Chapter Thirteen: Anger Growing

Chapter Fourteen: Anger Destroying

Chapter Fifteen: Disrupted Clouds

Chapter Sixteen: Loving Clouds

Chapter Seventeen: Violent Clouds

Chapter Eighteen: Quarreling Clouds

Chapter Nineteen: Arrogant Lord

Chapter Twenty: Temperamental Lord

Chapter Twenty-One: Romulan Zone

Chapter Twenty-Two: Romulan Commander

Chapter Twenty-Three: Romulan Device

Chapter Twenty-Four: Controlling Psychics

Chapter Twenty-Five: Scheming Psychics

Chapter Twenty-Six: Manipulative Psychics

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Festival of Friends

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Festival of Enemies

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Festival of Psychics

Chapter Thirty: Festival of Empaths

Chapter Thirty-One: Bond of Love

AOS Edition:

Follows the events of Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Into Darkness, and Star Trek: Beyond

Chapter One: Before the Academy

Chapter Two: In the Academy

Chapter Three: After the Academy

Chapter Four: Ship in Distress

Chapter Five: Planet in Distress

Chapter Six: Officers in Distress

Chapter Seven: Aboard the Enterprise

Chapter Eight: Aboard the Narada

Chapter Nine: Getting Advice

Chapter Ten: Volcanic Arguments

To be continued...

Specials:

Christmas Specials: 2022, 2023

Valentine's Day Specials: 2023, 2024

Pride Specials: 2023, 2024

Halloween Specials: 2023

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

@kyalov

@starlit-cass

[vaguelyno]

Gonna add a slightly more serious few thoughts on this

Tim gets raised by his trusty crew of goons. Criticizing their plans into a small local gang by the time he’s in his early teens (pre J’s death)

They take an area near the edge of the main zones claimed by gangs. Specifically close to penguins territory/one of the richer districts. Tim’s background making him great at white collar and similar crimes. After Jason’s death he’s selling high quality drugs to the rich kids wandering away from the main party areas/their parents with too much money

Tim, probably as Alvin Draper or a similar name still dates Steph (goons very supportive of him trying to achieve normal life goals) Still end up breaking things off as Steph becomes the Robin to a Batman who, for the past few years, has been mysteriously reigned in by a combo of other heroes, and who needs a bigger support system just the same as he did when Tim should’ve arrived (Steph mostly fills Tim’s spot)

(Tim still figured out IDs. He does not use them in his crime work. EVER. No goon knows that his distant loves for the Wayne’s and the Bats are because of what he knows. He does use the IDs to stop a Batman from ruining Robin’s legacy, but thats it. And maybe to give Spoiler Steph a few points in the right direction to earn the respect of the Batfam by IDing them)

When Red Hood crime lord arrives on the scene. Recon Tim sees the flips and tricks and knows a Robin when he sees one. Doesn’t usually pull on super-underworld contacts (stay away from that nonsense for safety reasons) but gets enough info to confirm one Jason Todd’s return (and get on the radar of the Al Ghuls, drat)

Tim’s crew is one of the first to start following Hood’s rules, whether or not he’s in crime alley. Tim tries to refrain from having to make deals with or appearances to Hood but does have to make one eventually or else Hood’d be suspicious that Tim’s an outsider trying to take advantage of Gotham. Tim busts out all his disguise equipment to prevent Hood from knowing Tim’s only like 16-17. Or that he’s the missing Drake kid from all those years ago

(He pushes the bounds of secrecy a little when Jack’s deaths on the news. He hasn’t cared about the man in years but maybe he should have now that he’s risking Tim’s identity with his death. He can’t not make appearances other places, or risk the change in behaviors being suspicious overall. So he’s not leaving his base without a subtlety higher quality disguise)

All of this, just to get to the main idea I wanted to explore. Tim gets got by the Bats. And while delirious calls someone by their name

I feel like it would be Dick, giving them a moment of plausible deniability, but they still gotta interrogate Tim (worse case for Tim. He could escape the cops or the charges [Tim wasn’t the main target]. Can’t escape the Bats)

Could also be Jason, Steph or anyone else (Tim knows everyone’s ID’s, no superhero is safe)

Tim tries to confirm what he said and lie, but Cass is in the room and he knows BB’s abilities. His body language (overly aware of Cass) gives away how much more he knows

I feel like body lang also gives away his Spoiler/Robin who built the Batfam in Tim’s place appreciation/connections (he looks at her like she’s the sun or moon, full of adoration)

The Cass detection system also reveals that Tim’s very boring (little to no classified info, still hits too close to home) insults are an attempt to rile Jason up enough to knock Tim out. Jason thinks this is a crime lord to sudo crime lord thing. Cass knows it’s not. (Jason can have a crisis about what this all means for him later)

Something something mind wipe?

Tim drops the act a little and is like J’on (pronounced subtly correct in a way the average super knowing villain wouldn’t) is not skilled enough to be able to wipe my memories without leaving me brain dead or worse (not telling bats it would leave him at the mental age of like 9) and I could probably figure it out again

Bats are suitable confused by this moral dilemma. They are also nervous because I’ve been picturing they’re in the Batcave or similar Bats only hideout and Tim is clearly cataloging everything he sees, even if it’s just the relatively unshadowed Bats and the holding cell he’s in

Not sure how this is resolved. Maybe Tim convinces them, hey other villains and rogues know your IDs This Is Fine. Or maybe the Al Ghuls who know bust into the cave and yoink one Tim outta there. Turning this into a debate of “do we rescue the crime lord ?” (He looked suitably afraid to all the Bats)

So yeah, those are my more serious take plot points on baby Tim’s homemade crime org

I think I need a “Kid Tim Drake gets kidnapped and held for ransom but his parents don’t even pick up the phone so now these criminals are like whelp, this kid is ours now. Sucks to suck.” Fic.