#How to write kids

[kaliina-catoe-blog]

Someone asked on reddit: "What is your biggest Fanfic Ick when you're reading?" and I saw a lot of other similar posts asking similar questions... I actually have a couple, but I'm specifically going to rant about my big one.

Children speaking either like full-grown adults or like they're much much younger than they are meant to be.

I was HORRIBLE about this for years, mainly because I wasn't around many kids younger than me (baby of the family). But now, as an adult who has been around children more? Omg. No. Please.

I've also taken some Early Childhood Development (ECD) courses since then, and I excelled in AP Psychology as a teenager- so I might not be an expert but I know the basics now. Honestly? If people who write children just take 5 (five) minutes to read up on the basic ECD milestones for speaking it would correct the issue completely I swear...

Most children start talking younger than you think! They babble and form basic monosyllabic or bisyllabic words by 1 year. (mama, Dada, baba, wawa, up, no, etc) [side note: I personally was talking in full sentences by 18 mo, but I am an outlier the size of Spiders George and should not be counted. I am hyperlexic, this post is about "standard" kids]

By 1.5 (18m) your baby should at least be speaking in basic monosyllabic and bisyllabic words and they'll still babble but usually with more purpose. What would be incoherent might start to sound more like they're attempting sentences. (EG: "Mama, I hab wawa? [Mama, I have Water?]") Technically babbling stage sentences, but they can be more or less easy to understand based on other factors. It is CRUCIAL to speak to your baby at this point especially, and even more important if you're attempting to teach the baby more than one language. Don't use baby voice- actually speak to them. Otherwise, they *will not* learn to say real words in time for school.

By 2 your baby is speaking in sentences! Maybe not always super clearly, but this is a good time in their life to begin introducing them to enunciation and basic language skills. (my examples here: "Mama, I need water, please." "Mama.. Need wawa, pease?" and then you repeat the sentence so they can try to copy your enunciation.) At this point, don't be too strict or you might unintentionally make them *stop* talking. Encourage them to pronounce/enunciate things correctly instead, and praise when they do well.

By 3, they should have a decent grasp on the language basics and should be speaking in full sentences at least mostly. They might still mispronounce things or not fully enunciate correctly. But they have the basics down and are ready to start getting hooked on phonics! (Idealistically, it's even better if you've been showing them educational content the entire time- with minimal screen usage. But like. I've seen Gen Alpha kids and I have Gen Beta cousins and nibblings. I'm not stupid. It's ALL screens. If you want your Gen Beta kid to do better than the Gen Alpha kids have been doing? GET BABY BOOKS. USE THEM. READ TO YOUR KIDS. This is why so many high school students are illiterate! It's because they weren't exposed to literature or basic phonics until they were fucking 6!)

Ahem. By 4, I was reading unassisted both out loud and silently. But normal children should be learning letters and numbers and how to count to 10. Your normal 4 year old should be capable of sounding out small words and should be able to spell their name and your name. I'm serious. First thing you need to teach your kid to read/write unassisted is their own name and your name. Before they start pre-K. If your kid ever gets hurt, or you get hurt? They need to know their name, and yours. It's not that difficult to teach your kid not to call you your first name- but it's hard to find them if they get lost and have no idea who they are or who they're looking for aside from "mama/dada/ren".

By 5, we have reached Pre-K! (or Kinder depending where you are ig). They should be speaking in full, mostly correct, sentences. There is no more "wawa" instead of water. They may still be saying "wah-duh" but they should be beyond "wawa". They should be able to say "Drink" and not "dink" (again, it may be a little more "dwink" but that's normal. If they know the word and can reliably say it and be understood fine? They're doing ok. If they have a speech impediment you're about to find out from their teachers or doctors so don't worry about it yet- or just bring it up yourself and ask them if they believe there's an impediment).

I repeat, because this is the age I see get the "baby talk" treatment the most, your 5 year old character should be capable of speaking in full sentences. FIVE YEAR OLDS ARE NOT 3.

By 6, we start to see a grasp on basic Grammar and spelling ideas- this is the age where some of those rules don't make sense, or are contrary to one another (like the "I before E except after C; unless your Foreign Science-teacher Neighbor, Keith, Receives Eight Weird Counterfeit Weightlifting books in the mail- sent by Feisty Caffeinated Beige aliens" rule... Or the dozen different ones about commas, and which commas are which, and why the fuck we have multiple different types of THE EXACT SAME CHARACTER- All of which go in literally the same place but slightly differently and for different reasons).

Yeah. Age 6 is wild, man. And the way 6 year olds talk? It reflects. This is the age of "Why is fart spelled like a smell?" and "Ren? How did I go in your tummy when I was a baby me?" and the ever-present "I runned-ed really fast!"... They know what the rules are, but they don't actually know how they *work*.

7, and we have reached a great age for conversation! 7 year olds can speak pretty clearly, and while they may still say things like "I runned" instead of "I ran", they do it a lot less... And usually not quite that obviously. This is the age where correcting their grammar/spelling/enunciation is going to be really important! We want to encourage them to come to us with words they can't pronounce in books, or ask how to spell random words that they hear in media/life, and we have to be kind about correcting errors. 7 year olds are soft and sensitive and a little bit whiney. They're still small enough to cry over a skinned knee, and ask for fit-it kisses, and they won't be this small ever again. Yes, the 9000000000 questions a day will get exhausting and annoying and "omgpleaseshutuppleasepleasejustgofindathesaurusandstopaskingme" but then we start to really see the fruits of our labour.

8 years old! They can read, they can write, and they can do basic addition and subtraction - maybe even a little multiplication and division depending on the school/home educational resources. They are finally old enough to be introduced to long multi-chapter books (as in, more than 15-20 chapters) for solo reading! Honestly, I was reading multi-chapter books LONG before 8. But I was also a very hyperlexic child, and a kid that is developing at a totally "standard" pace should be hitting this milestone ~around~ 8. Maybe they're 7.5, maybe it takes until they're 8.5. But 8 is a median age for independently reading long chapter books.

By 9, we are very independent. Almost double digits! That's practically grown! A 9 y/o is going to be so so super excited to do anything alone. They're still going to mostly listen to you, and they'll go to you directly for help/comfort/etc very openly. Enjoy this phase! It is not a long phase. Linguistically speaking, by 9 most kids are pretty much grown-out of minor speech impediments- the ones that stick are actual impediments and it's up to you are your child to decide if/what speech therapy is good for them. Smaller things, like "Dwink" over "Drink" usually go away by this age. More permanent impediments will be much more clear, and they're completely natural! There's no shame in having a speech impediment, and while your child develops a personality and tries to be more independent - it's your job to handle any speech impediments for them. Let them focus on being 9.

10! Double digits already? Wow. Seems like only 500 words ago we were teaching them to tie shoes and spell "duckie". By this point, they're talking pretty much like how you'd expect a 10 year old to talk. They're either going to be a swearer, or not, and that's 80% your own doing. The other 20% is literally everyone else in their life. Peers, teachers, aunts, uncles, rads, etc. (rad being what my nibblings should call me, because I think it's 😁😁 rad 👉👉)

After this point? Just. Keep letting them learn more and more big words. If you've done all of this right, they'll probably love reading! Just nurture that love, and you're set. 11 year olds are cringey- they use weird dumbass slang that adults don't understand, and we use their slang to embarrass them every chance we get. A tale as old as time.

Honestly the next "big shift" in how a kid talks, is puberty. The change in vocal register can mess with the way the speak - and can also make certain Speech impediments worse, so if you're someone whose kid has an impediment, make sure you've prepared them for that. Warn them that vocal changes might make them feel as though any speech therapy they've done is pointless, and work with them to encourage them and help them remember that these vocal changes are not *bad*. Make sure they understand that there's nothing wrong with it.

And then, again, next big change isn't really a change at all. They're ready. They're grown! 18! The most common "change" here is that they might get a little bit too comfortable swearing a lot more than what's appropriate. But they'll figure out what's "enough" swearing soon enough. The important thing isn't whatever might be going on linguistically anymore... You've done it. You have managed to bring an entire human being all the way through childhood and into adulthood. You created a whole entire person! Now sit back, relax, and wait for grandkids or a dog or something... And remember that if you get grandkids, you also get to repeat a large portion of all of the work you just did.

And you also get to know that you made a tiny human! And then that human became an adult all because of you! And they decided to make *another* tiny human!

Ok Ok... I could go on, but Im getting really off-topic. My point is:

Children develop sooo quickly! There's only 10-12 years before they're most of the way grown and beginning to hit puberty. Your 8 year old Dick Grayson should NOT talk like he's 4! 10 year old Dick Grayson is not about to be using words like "Rhetorical question" unless you've given us reason to believe that he is well-read enough (In English) to know what that means. He might understand the premise of "not a questions are supposed to be answered" but it's INFINITELY funnier and more realistic for that type of interaction to play as-

10y/o Dick: "Why do you call yourself penguin?"

Penguin: *starts to answer*

Dick, jumping his ass: "I didn't mean you had to actually tell me! It was-" *pauses to look at his dad* "Batman?"

Batman, amused: "Rhetorical."

Dick: "Yeah! It was Rhetorical!"

*keeps beating up Penguin, who is so confused*

And more!

Your de-aged Danny Fenton that's suddenly 2? Should not be super-conscious and speaking like he's 14. And! Even if he's mentally 14 still, 2 year olds babble mainly because their mouths are tiny and have like. Barely any teeth.

Even I, hyperlexic and learning to ask for things at 18mo, still mostly babbled until I had all of my teeth. [I know this because my mum and I are super close and I recently had to get a full medical history, including me and her doing the math to figure out exactly how old I was at all of my milestones- based on how old my brothers were and where we lived and what surgery/test/etc I was having done at the same ages].

Anyway. So even if he's fully conscious or wtv, he's not speaking like a teenager- he's limited to what he can physically pronounce as a toddler.

Also! In this same vein! Stop forcing the baby talk to be written out completely phonetically.... I'm so so so sick of reading

"An' I tol' mah da-da aaallll 'bout the fishes at da 'quarium" like. Seriously guys. Just. Fucking. Type it.

It makes more sense for a 5 year old to go "I told my daddy aaallll about the 'quarium and the fishes and the cool boat thingy we rided on!" than whatever that hell-fire bullshit is, that just ate the text off the other example.

Kids under 10 especially tend to speak in run-on sentences. They use "and" "like" "Uh" "um" and other filler words. Constantly. Have them say like 6 different sentences, with barely if any pause, and call it a fuckin day lmao. It's more accurate than you probably think it is. My favorite example is my little cousin, we'll call her Amie (real name of my real adult friend lmao, but idk any good fake kid names so) I'll also just call myself Kat for simplicity sake.

Amie(7): "Katkatkatkatkat!"

Me: "What what what what what?"

A: "Come look! I found a cool bug underneath this big ole rock in the backyard it's over by the trampoline and I almost squisheded it by accident but it's ok because I jumped off and then I moved the rock offofit and then I came to get you so you can see the cool bug thingy! Look!"

Me, looking at what appeared to be a huge ass beetle: "Oh, wow! That is amazing! Do you want to put it in a jar so we can show mom? Maybe she'll let us go release it in the woods, so it's safe from the weed whacker!"

A: "Oh yes! Yesyesyesyes! I wanna go find a really cool jar! A big one and we can poke holes in the top but we should probably poke the holes in before we put Jerald in it because that way we don't accidentally poke a hole in Jerald because I think that would be really sad. I like Jerald."

Me: "I like him too, kiddo. Let's find a jar for him to take a nap in until Mommy is back, okay?"

Anyways, that's just an example of my 7 y/o cousin. Be creative! Have fun! Just keep in mind that if you want other people to read it, you have to put a little effort into it. My biggest advice?

Read up on the age you're writing. What grade are they in? How big are they? How does being that size shift how they (literally) see things around them?

Maybe try to go spend some time with younger relatives if you have any! Or maybe go visit a library and go to the kids section for a few minutes to browse- Ive done this to get a physical sense of what a little kid's world looks like from that low lol. I literally went to the library, and shuffled around on my knees for like 10 minutes browsing an empty section of the kids' area. Nobody questioned me, nobody gave a fuck, nobody even looked at me because: everyone will just assume you're there for a kids book. You have free will! Just. Go research what little kids are like before you write them completely wrong and then get pissed off when nobody wants to read your piss poor attempt at writing kids. (I say this with love, I swear, it's just a topic that personally really frustrates me 😅)

Hell, use this post as a giant guide for raising your characters' kids!

Maybe don't actually use it as a real life parenting guide tho. I wrote it in that style because that's just how it made sense in my head lol... I am not a parent, I just really wish I was.

[ghostbsuter]

Those were quite the news to hear.

To think that the Duo of Jon and Damian would grow into a Trio...

He wondered how the girl did it, Elle Nightingale, she must have fit right in.

To say Clark and Bruce weren't surprised would be a lie when those two boys brought in their new third companion and proceeded to roughhouse Robin-Superboy style with her.

And she seemed to retaliate just as hard.

Both fathers wondered if she was the child of a former colleague or another vigilante, that or she was a meta/alien.

So when they went to Central City to meet Elle's parent and let the kids have their fun— well.

They didn't expect a young adult– barely out of the teenage years— greeting them with a grin in a hoodie.

"Sup."

And down the rabbit hole they went.

—

Over the weeks of meet ups, Clark and Bruce have gathered around 4 different kind of responses to their questions of Elle's other parent/relationship with elle.

It went like this:

("Brother? Aww, you flatter me. I'm her dad, actually.")

("Hm? Elle's other parent? She doesn't have one.")

(A shrug. "I decided I wanted to have a kid. Elle is the result.")

("Plasmius has always been a moron. Elle! On his next weekend, rob him broke!" To which he got an enthusiastic nod from said girl.)

They've gathered;

1. Danny and Elle weren't meta-humans. Instead, at least, half something/alien.

2. Whoever Plasmius is, he was involved.

3. The boys know. Elle seemed to have shared some of her past with them, and they're holding onto the promise of safekeeping and secrecy.

[bluerosefox]

Siblings Behavior

It's shenanigans time guys

So have this DpxDc idea.

So, the Justice League and the Light (OR villains in general) have two newish members, they've both been around for about a year and they're from the same plane of existence (a place called the Infinite Realms according to those who dabble in the occult)

And the two seem to have some serious beef with each other.

Wisp and Wrath are basicly feral cats hissing and hekles raised when they spot the other and their fights normally ends in draws. They're evenly matched and sometimes the two even fight to the point they are out of steam and just fist fight.

Needless to say everyone believes they totally hate each other and might one day kill (or end?) One of them.

So everything gets turned upside down when suddenly both factions of heros and villains are suddenly summoned to the Infinite Realms.

In a throne room.

In front of the Infinite King (or most commonly known as the Ghost King)

A King who looks very, very much like Wisp and Wrath (like yeah the two do sometimes look alike, like when they grin with sharp teeth and their hair color, but one has blue skin and red eyes for crying out loud!)

He's staring at them, glowing green eyes that seemed to just... know.

"Welcome to the Infinite Realms. I am King Phantom." His voice echoing in the throne room and seemed to rattle them deeply, like a sudden chill in the early morning.

"I have summoned you all here for a single reason." He continued to say "Tell me..."

Here he paused, closed his eyes before leaning back on the chair then he smiled big and cheerfully asked.

"How are my kids doing in your world? Dan and Ellie aren't causing too much chaos in their wake are they? They tend to go a tiny bit overboard sometimes but what siblings don't when they rough house you know. Tell me everything."

[gojoest]

ex husband gojo satoru on the brain….you have two kids together and after the divorce you get shared custody but the whole family gathers together only on special occasions like your children’s birthdays or important school events etc etc.

of course, this doesn’t mean you don’t cross paths with satoru for the rest of the time. on ordinary days he comes up with all kinds of ways to force his presence back in your life (and yours in his).

at least three times a week he drops by your house with a lousy excuse that “the kids forgot this, the kids forgot that” back at his place. other times he pretends to have forgotten that it’s your turn to pick them up from school, so you accidentally run into each other and he shamelessly invites himself over for dinner which you can’t bring yourself to decline because the kids are already too excited about spending time together.

even if you’ve parted ways on paper, satoru is still not over you, at all. in fact, he thinks he can win you back because you never stopped being his, not even for a second. you’re just being too difficult right now. you must’ve forgotten that it’s not really marriage that made you his to begin with, so divorce doesn’t change a thing. it stings him though, really it does, that you took the ring off and abandoned his name.

but it’s okay. you belonged to him way before he gave you the ring and his last name. those are only some minor formalities. it’s just back to square one. everything will fall back into place again, he just needs to remind you of the basics. but the order in which things fall into place will be different this time around.

if it’s the kids that bring you together, all he needs to do is make you give him another one. if he plays his cards right he will get to fuck you soon, he is certain. your heart might be confused right now, but your body seems to remember him way too well. he can smell it, the scent of your arousal whenever he’s around.

it’s just a matter of time. he’ll make sure to blow his load only inside you. multiple times so it works.

once you get pregnant again, he’ll use his unborn as an excuse to be around you all the time — “the baby is still in your belly, this is the only way i can spend time with my child”

he’s got 9 months to make you fall for him again, and by the time the baby is born, he’ll make it so your last name is gojo again. he’s already picked a ring.

[astearisms]

fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started

[choccy-milky]

sometimes you gotta lure your overly-studious ravenclaw gf into spending time with you 🥰 📚 ( from 'Every Teardrop is a Waterfall' by Kat_12739 on ao3, GO READ IT!!! the first story is about seb falling sick and still pushing himself/not admitting he's sick until he ends up in the hospital, the second story is about the birth of seb and clora's daughter and seb's reaction to clora almost dying in childbirth, and the third is about dealing with a fussy newborn lewis😭🥹THEY'RE SO GOOD AND SWEET AND SOMEWHAT SAD (not to mention beautifully written) so go check it out!!💖💖 )

[anjanahalo]

Potential DPxDC Prompt

Danny survived high school with his identity intact. It wasn't easy, and it involved "Phantom" making a deal with his parents to help fight the ghosts in return for their amnesty if permanent banishment back to the ghost zone, but no one was getting zapped or gooped or vivisected, so it's all great! Meanwhile Danny Fenton, though his life, has perfected a near universal stain remover that's not just effective even post-washing, but is also environmentally friendly (thanks ghost zone chemists for working even after death on your craft). He decides to submit it to the Wayne Foundation's Innovations of the Future contest for a potential scholarship (Jazz was already teleprompting him from her college in sending out at least ten essays a week for scholarships from other sources). He gets a full ride to the University of Gotham, along with a hefty contract for exclusive rights to his stain remover formula. The issue? Danny knows the product includes a short-lived form of ectoplasm to work, and he is very, very hesitant to allow something as big as Wayne Corp to learn about that. His parents and their zeal caused so much harm just wanting to learn about the Ghost Zone. How dangerous would it be for an Entire Corporation, whose business is to exploit for gain, to learn about it? He didn't think this scholarship application through, did he? Meanwhile Batco is horrified and aghast that a civilian not only sent in something with Lazarus water in it for a fuckin' scholarship, it is actually useful for something besides raising the dead!

[superbat-lmao]

Jason travels to an alternate universe where Bruce only cares about being Batman. He took in each of his kids to serve the mission, not be his children.

Now, faced with alternate versions of his family, Jason has to grapple with the fact that his Bruce does care, that he is his father. Because the man in front of him now, trying to send him home, isn’t even close.

[emiqip]

Pt.2 Apocalyptic Ponyo AU ft. Shockwave and his menaces @keferon

If there was something you learned while living in the ugly, rotten and forgotten parts of the city your whole life, it was that trust was to be given away scarcely and returned fiercely. 

Damus learned this lesson fast. Abandoned beside a squalid garbage bin after his guardian couldn't afford to take care of him anymore- not that they tried in the first place anyway. Life got only more complicated from there: food and shelter were always scarce and had to be fought for, especially if you were a scrawny kid like him and had to tussle and shove middle-aged junkies daily, to be able to scavenge inside the most recent load of trash from the local shitty restaurant in hopes for some lukewarm scraps. 

And then years passed and he became less and less alone. Other kids joined him and life became just a tad bit more bearable. He slowly warmed up to them, feeling for maybe the first time the warmth of what could resemble a family, even if his was little and a bit broken. They looked out for each other: yes the older kids obviously held the most authority and weight out of all of them, but it wasn't unusual to see the twins putting on their best intimidating appearances and stand tall in front of any adult after they dared pick on one of their older siblings- he had seen the scratches and bite marks covering the poor soul who tried to steal Windcharger's lunch...

It had always been left unsaid, but it was clear they loved and cared deeply for each other- that sort of care that looked rough and jagged from an outsider perspective, but it was their kind of love and nobody- adult or whatever could ever have a say in this. 

But it was when you cared so intensely that even at the mere prospect of losing something so dear, your body and soul started betraying you.

He felt it when the apocalypse hit and now... as he watched Blue- young, naive and kind Blue, caged behind a massive wall of sharp teeth and even sharper claws, smiling happily, without a care in the world.

The beast followed the gaze of its small prisoner and finally locked eyes with the new arrivals. Sharp cat-like blue eyes curiously took in the presence of the remaining kids, with its mouth slightly open in surprise, the monster tilted its head and from its throat came forward a small melody of clicks and trills. 

Damus felt his heart sink. God, what did he do in a previous life to deserve this? When he caught himself moving forward on shaky legs, it was already too late. His brain was in overdrive. He had to get the kid out of this situation now. 

"...Blue, buddy, I want you to listen to me very carefully." His throat felt dry and the hands that were clutching his weapon were clammy with sweat. 

"Uh? O-okay." The younger kid briefly looked at his captor before returning his focus on his brother. 

"...walk slowly towards me and hide behind us." 

"What?! Dee I'm not in danger yeah I know Sir. Pancake can be a bit intimidating at first even I was scared but he patched up my knee with some sea moss I don't know how he knew how to do that but-" 

"Buddy please- just- sigh come here Blue!" He hated interrupting his littlest brother during one of his spiels, but now was not the right time. Stress and frustration began eating up at him from inside: why couldn't he see how dangerous this thing really was?! 

"No." 

Wait. 

"WHAT?" 

"I said. No."

Bluestreak huffed, crossing his arms in a pure show of defiance. "I'm perfectly safe where I am, you're being a jerk." To everyone's absolute horror the child lifted his right hand and patted one of the beast clawed fingers to prove his point- in return he got a quiet happy trill. 

"If he really wanted to hurt me he would've done so already and I'm not letting you shoot him." 

He hated to admit he kinda had a point. When the twins left the scene they left the two alone, leaving the youngest completely unprotected against a beast several times bigger than himself. If that thing really wanted to see them all dead, he wouldn't even be here to ponder the possibility. 

Oh for fuck sake, he knew where this was going. They were NOT going to adopt a random fish person. 

Were they?

 \\\

Well wasn't this quite the situation he found himself in? 

Honestly, he had been only searching for a place to finally experience some peace and quiet, away from the grubby hands of the Senate and, consequently, his very dear colleagues. If he had to speak with esteemed senator Tyrest again and entertain him as he blabbed away about 'Rectitude' and 'Order', while an impressive persistent piece of algae clinged on his front teeth- he was going to lose it and offer himself as lunch to the first frenzied monster he found. 

As he reached the surface he began to notice the utter and total destruction around him. Apparently a massive cataclysm had hit a few days prior, leaving the city in utter squalor- he wondered how many lost their lives in the wreckage. Wondering the landscape now engulfed by water. He passed what were once streets, houses and parks- ordinary places where people like his spent their time just... living. 

He wasn't unfamiliar with humans, of course: little hardy creatures, with a knack for destroying everything they came across, even themselves. But he would be lying if he didn't admit he came to favor them- oh, yes! Their utter lack of self preservation had wholly endeared them to him. How depressing things turned out to be. 

He let his train of thoughts race aimlessly as he finally let himself breach the water and slowly heave himself on a random slab of abandoned concrete, perfectly warmed up by the midday sun and he prepared himself to doze off to the calming lull of the waves around him...

A voice- oh no, a couple whispering voices reached his audial fins. They sounded young, very young, but he could not discern the meaning of their words. Too entranced by the new language he didn't notice that one of the speakers was getting quite close to his face, until he felt a sharp poke on his cheek that abruptly made him open his eyes and stand on alert. 

What came after happened too quickly for his still foggy brain to follow entirely: three small humans, most likely guppies, scrambled away from him. The two he presumed were the oldest sprinted as far as possible, while the runt of the bunch got his tiny final caught on a stray rock and fell miserably on the hard ground. 

The other screeched once more as they hurried away to who-knows-where, leaving him and their tiny companion alone. Surely not the best wake-up call he ever had but it can only go better from here, can it? 

A tiny whimper woke him up from his stupor as he once again focused on the small pile of human still plastered on the floor before him. Poor dear must have hurt himself, well that won't do. Slowly, gently he caressed the back of the little darling as he kept softly hiccuping- it was a shame humans skin wasn't as tough as his, it would prevent such inconveniences to happen, not that he blamed the little thing for his own poor biology, of course. 

"Oh sweetheart, it's going to be okay I promise. You're a very tough small fry, I've got you." He let himself coo softly like he heard parents do to their own off-spring. Still minding his own size and sharp points, he dared to nudge the guppy over and inspect the damage himself- turns out the little one had only grazed his right limb, nothing a small dab of sea moss cannot fix. 

As he tended to the guppy's injury, he witnessed the little thing's mood change completely: from an inconsolable heap on the floor to a lively chatterbox- even if the meaning still escaped from him, the constant stream of sound made for a pleasant background as he continued his ministrations. And anyway, the guppy was happy just talking his audials away, who was he to stop his fun? 

Once he deemed his work acceptable enough, he gently prodded the little one to stand beside him, close enough to cover him with one of his fins as a make-shift blanket, and keep him cozy and warm against the evening ocean breeze. Sleep crept closer to him once more, as he listened to his new small ward rant about this and that, while the last rays of the sun warmed his back. Content and at ease he felt his body betray him as he recognized a familiar pleased rumble start in his throat. 

He let himself relax further, knowing this far out nothing would dare attack him and his little guppy. However, he was pleasantly surprised when from the rubble emerged three more small humans. 

Well, he counted six unattended little ones so far- this was getting quite awkward really, who was leaving all these children lying around? They were clearly sporting some sort of weapons, he guessed- although he felt that was reasonably natural, considering humans didn't have any claws or sharp fangs to defend themselves with. 

He watched as the two parties shared a fairly animated conversation. These were most likely his guppy's little friends or... siblings? No matter really since they were all way too young to be wandering around alone in a place like this. 

It was final then! He ought to protect and care for these little ones, until they wouldn't need him anymore.

pt.3 !!

[awhoreintheory]

Circus Boy

Directly inspired by @erinwantstowrite 's art!!! post

Request from awesome amazing cool Anon

Over the years, circuses have lost their spark.

Dick would know— he’d literally grown up in one. Back then, the circus was a symphony of effort and artistry. Weeks, sometimes months, were spent perfecting routines. Performances were designed to dazzle, to inspire awe, no matter the country or culture of the audience. The comedy sketches weren’t just filler— they were genuinely funny, capable of drawing laughter even from the most reluctant parent dragged along by an excited child. Every act had a rhythm, a purpose, and above all, passion. The performers took pride in their craft, and the audience responded in kind, feeding off the energy, cheering and clapping until their hands were raw and their throats sore. 

Now? Now they were dull. Predictable routines recycled ad nauseam. Costumes that looked like they were bought in bulk from a clearance rack. Tents and stages slapped together with the barest effort to resemble grandeur. The magic, the joy—the soul of it all—had been replaced with a singular, glaring goal: profit. No one cared if the audience laughed, gasped, or even paid attention, so long as they paid their entrance fees.

But recently, whispers of something different had started making waves in Gotham: a circus gaining a reputation for being... well, different.

Dick’s curiosity was piqued. He hadn’t planned to go, at first. But the memories of his youth, of what the circus used to mean, stirred within him. Before he knew it, he’d wrangled (read: blackmailed) together as much of the family as he could to go see it. Which, wasn’t a whole lot considering quite a few were out of state currently, but it was enough to make him smile.

“Why must I come along? I do not see the point,” Damian groused, arms folded tightly across his chest as the group approached the circus grounds. Despite his protests, he made no move to make a stealthy exit.

“You’re coming because it’ll be good for you,” Dick said, ruffling Damian’s hair just to annoy him. Damian promptly swatted his hand away, glaring daggers at his adoptive brother.

“You don’t even know if it’ll be good,” Tim chimed in, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “What if this thing is as boring as all the other ones you’ve complained about?”

“Then we’ll all get funnel cake and call it a night,” Stephanie said brightly, making it clear where her true excitement lay. “I’m in it for the food, anyway.”

Dick pouted. “You didn’t have to say the quiet part out loud!” 

“Don’t underestimate funnel cake,” Duke added with a smirk. “It might be the only thing saving this trip if the show’s a flop.”

Dick rolled his eyes, but his grin didn’t waver. “You’re all so cynical. Just... trust me, okay? I have a feeling about this one.”

Sure, a lot of the decorations seemed cheap thus far, but Dick can’t blame them. They’re clearly low budget, with only two shows a week, versus the seven to ten a week Dick was used to. The difference was the genuine passion and excitement in the eyes of the performers. And they were just doing pre-show stunts on the street to rouse excitement! 

Tim hummed thoughtfully. “This place has been gaining rapid popularity,” he said, the subtle edge in his tone making it clear he was already analyzing every detail. Dick saw his fingers twitch as if to take a picture. 

Dick glanced over at him but didn’t comment. He recognized that tone— Tim was in detective mode, quietly piecing together threads no one else could see yet. He did, however, take the opportunity at his siblings' distraction to subtly herd them in the direction of the tents, eager to get a good front-row seat. Damian noticed, but he didn’t do much more than roll his eyes.

Steph, however, rolled her eyes dramatically. At Tim, not Dick. “Can you just enjoy one thing without looking for a criminal conspiracy, Tim?”

Tim matched her with a roll of his own eyes, the two slipping into a bickering match that’d put an old married couple to shame if they weren’t so aggressively gay. Meanwhile, Dick let his attention wander to the stage, studying the equipment with the practiced eye of someone who’d lived this life.

Suspended high above was the trapeze rig, its bars wrapped in worn leather, the steel cables taut and secured to thick iron frames. The safety net below, while a little faded, looked sturdy enough to do its job. Not brand-new, but serviceable.

To one side, a highwire stretched across a dizzying height, its slim cable shimmering faintly under the tent lights. The rigging showed some signs of age— slightly dulled bolts and scuffed counterweights—but nothing that made Dick worry. It would hold, even if the daredevil walking it would need nerves of steel.

A teeterboard sat center stage on the ground, its spring mechanism ready to launch performers into flips and vaults. Nearby, a stack of brightly painted crates and barrels hinted at comedic skits. Clowns would probably tumble over them with exaggerated flair, while a sturdy seesaw-like prop suggested slapstick gags involving plenty of unintentional (and intentional) falls.

The whole setup had a charming scrappiness to it. The equipment could use a little TLC, sure, but Dick had no doubt it would hold up under pressure. He could tell the performers had put their trust in it, and that meant something.

For a moment, Dick felt a flicker of nostalgia. The way the crew moved, the crisp efficiency with which they handled the gear— it reminded him of home, of the way his parents had always treated the stage with reverence, as though it were sacred ground.

“Do you see how high that wire is?” Duke muttered, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and apprehension as he followed Dick’s gaze.

“I see it,” Dick replied softly, his heart tightening. He couldn’t help but wonder who had the guts to walk that cable, let alone pull off any stunts on it. He’d definitely have to stick around and chat them up, maybe have a little friendly competition. 

“Awe, man,” Duke sighed, visibly disappointed. “Guess we weren’t excited enough.”

Turns out “early” wasn’t early enough because the seating area was packed. The whole first three rows were aggressively claimed, forcing the group to settle for seats in the middle of the fourth row.

Steph and Duke promptly excused themselves to grab popcorn—or, more accurately, for Steph to scout for funnel cake. Dick had to respect the consistency.

Damian glanced at Dick, then at Tim with a withering look. “Drake, cease your ramblings. They sour my mood.”

Tim blinked, clearly taken aback. “Wait, just me? Steph was talking way more!”

Steph, who had been halfway out of earshot, whirled around with mock offense. “Excuse me? I wasn’t the one turning this into an episode of ‘True Crime: Circus Edition.’” 

“Yeah, because you’re too busy planning how to steal funnel cake from children,” Tim shot back, crossing his arms. Damian’s eyebrow twitched. Dick wondered why peace was but a mere illusion. 

“Oh, please,” Steph quipped. “You’d be the kid I steal it from, Drake.”

Before Tim could come up with a retort, and Damian became a convicted felon, the lights dimmed, cutting their bickering short. A hush fell over the crowd as the familiar low hum of a drumroll began to build.

The ringmaster strode into the center of the stage, clad in a dazzling coat of crimson and gold that shimmered under the spotlight. If you looked any closer than that, you’d see how tacky and cheap it was. His booming voice carried effortlessly across the tent.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Welcome to a night of wonder, daring, and delight!” the ringmaster announced, his voice ringing through the tent as the steady drumroll built the tension. “Prepare yourselves for the extraordinary, the astonishing, the absolutely unbelievable! The show begins... now!”

The drumroll reached its peak, and with a dramatic flourish, the spotlight swept upward to reveal the first performer perched high above the stage. A man in a sparkling gold costume waved grandly to the crowd before swinging onto the trapeze. The audience clapped politely as he performed a few rudimentary tricks— basic flips and graceful swings that showcased control but lacked flair.

Two more performers joined him, each clad in similar glittering costumes. They moved with confidence, transitioning through formations and passing between trapezes, but the moves were predictable and lacked the edge Dick was hoping to see. Certainly, nothing that would make this rinky-dink circus as popular as it got so quickly. 

Tim leaned toward Dick, his tone flat. “You dragged us here for this?”

“Underwhelming,” Damian muttered, his expression neutral but his tone sharp.

Dick didn’t respond immediately, though he couldn’t disagree. The tricks were technically fine— safe, practiced, polished— but there was no spark, no passion. No magic. He resigned to going home disappointed and also to the inevitable flaming via siblings. 

But then, just as one of the performers finished an awkward landing on the platform, the ringmaster’s voice boomed again.

“And now, prepare yourselves for the prodigy of the skies, the one and only Amazing Arach-Kid!”

The spotlight shifted upward again, revealing a much smaller figure poised on a separate platform, high above the others. It was a boy— young and wiry, dressed in sleek crimson and black, his face obscured by a half-mask (not dissimilar to their domino masks, actually) that glimmered faintly in the light. For a moment, the crowd was silent, uncertain what to expect.

Without warning, the boy leaped.

The gasp from the audience was audible as the kid— Arach-Kid?— launched himself into a dramatic triple flip, his body twisting gracefully through the air before he caught the trapeze with flawless precision. The crowd erupted into applause, the energy in the tent shifting instantly.

He didn’t stop there. Swinging with a force that sent his trapeze soaring higher than any of the others had dared, he released at the peak of his arc and spun into a double somersault. Instead of catching the next trapeze, he landed neatly in the arms of one of the adult performers, who looked genuinely startled by the boy’s precision. He grinned, waving excitedly at the audience as they roared with applause. 

From there, the routine transformed. Arach-Kid became the centerpiece of the act, seamlessly incorporating daring flips, twists, and transitions between trapezes. He was passed between the adults with perfect timing, their previous mediocrity eclipsed by his sheer skill and energy.

“Whoa,” Duke murmured, leaning forward in his seat. “He’s... good.”

“Who is that kid?” Tim asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Better than the rest of them combined,” Damian said bluntly, though his tone carried the faintest hint of approval.

The boy ended his routine with a jaw-dropping quadruple somersault, catching the final trapeze one-handed and hanging upside down with effortless control. Gasps and cheers erupted from the audience, their applause thunderous as he let himself swing for a moment, letting the crowd bask in his daring. Then, with a fluid motion, he swung back, releasing the trapeze bar for one final flourish.

Dick leaned forward, his breath catching as the kid’s body twisted into the unmistakable maneuver— the signature move of the Flying Graysons.

The crowd roared as he executed the technique perfectly, his form flawless, his timing impeccable. He landed with a clean dismount, arms raised triumphantly, and offered the crowd a playful bow before darting off to the wings. Even with the stage empty, shouts and applause echoed for a long time after the boy left. 

For a moment, Dick couldn’t move. His stomach churned as memories of his parents on that same trapeze flooded his mind. No one else knew that move. No one could. His parents had created it, and Dick had learned it from them. It was their legacy— his legacy.

So how, in the name of all that made sense, did this random kid just pull it off perfectly?

The lights shifted again, smoothly transitioning to the next act: a somewhat clumsy but undeniably entertaining tightrope routine. One performer started with a wobbling walk, arms flailing for comedic effect. Another joined, balancing precariously with a broomstick for support. The final performer added a unicycle to the mix, pedaling shakily across the thin wire as the audience laughed and clapped in delight.

It was… objectively funny.

But Dick barely noticed. His good mood had evaporated, replaced by a heavy knot of unease in his chest. At this point, they must have a hive mind with how they immediately filed out of the tent without a single word exchanged. 

“That was—” Tim started, breaking the tense silence.

“Dick,” Steph interrupted, her voice low, “did he just—?”

“That was your move,” Tim finished firmly, his eyes locked on Dick’s.

“It’s not possible,” Duke added, glancing at the now-empty trapeze rig. “Right? It’s your family’s thing. There’s no way some random kid from Gotham knows it.”

“I am more concerned with how he knows it,” Damian said, his voice cutting. His eyes darted to Dick. “This is your domain, Richard. You must have answers.”

Dick didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his breathing shallow. In disbelief, he muttered, “I don’t.”

Steph frowned. “Okay, well... what do we do? Do we just ignore the fact that some kid pulled off your impossible secret family move?”

“No,” Dick said sharply, his voice colder than any of them expected. “We don’t ignore it. We find out who he is, how he learned it, and what the hell is going on.”

Tim’s brow furrowed. “Do you think someone’s trying to get your attention? Like, deliberately?”

Dick shook his head, though his face betrayed his uncertainty. “I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, it’s... it’s possible, but...” He exhaled through his nose, frustrated. “I need answers. This isn’t something you just pick up on YouTube.”

The group left the small but packed circus, their earlier excitement replaced by a shared tension. The cool night air did little to clear their heads as they walked in a tight huddle, glancing over their shoulders as if the boy would materialize out of the crowd.

“Something’s not right,” Tim said, breaking the silence.

“Obviously,” Damian muttered.

“I mean it,” Tim snapped. “Moves like that— you don’t just do them. It takes years to learn without a teacher.” He glanced at Dick. “You’re sure no one outside your family knew it? Like, absolutely sure?”

“Positive,” Dick said firmly. “The only people who knew it are gone. Except me.” His voice dropped as he added, “Or at least, they’re supposed to be.”

The group exchanged uneasy looks, about both the situation and Dick’s reaction to it. It takes quite a bit to rattle him, so to see him, well, rattled was weird. Beyond weird. It was downright wrong. 

“Either way,” Duke said cautiously, “we’re going to figure this out. Right?”

“Oh, we will,” Dick said, his voice grim. “We don’t leave things like this unanswered.”

As they disappeared into the Gotham night, paranoia settled over them like a second skin. Whatever was going on, it wasn’t going to stay a mystery for long. 

[ghostbsuter]

"I can see dead people." He mentions with a shrug, using the chopsticks to fish more noodles into his mouth.

Dick stares at him. "Huh."

"Is that why you help?" He asks, getting more spring rolls.

"Yeah. Once someone becomes a ghost, word gets out quick, and they come to me. Always tatling about unfairness and justice." The kid waves the words around, rolling his eyes.

Dick just pretens to he uninterested, despite his mind racing at the new info. He is piecing past moments together, every shadow leaping away, every note with tips, leads and—

Huh.

"Do you... like it? Doing all that?" Richard approaches thus carefully, brows furrowed at the kid opposite of him.

Danny moves his head, giving a 'so-so' answer. "It's not much to like, I can see ghosts, and they know it and use it. If it brings them to peace or whatever– well, that's just a plus."

Dick stares. He places his chopsticks down and looks at Danny worried.

In turn, the kid sighs. "Sometimes gifts become curses the longer you have it."

And Dick understands.

Mind made up, he throws a pair of keys at the kid, watching fondly as the other catches them with confusion.

"Next time use these, instead of entering through the window."

Danny mock-salutes with a shit eating grin. "Yes, Officer grayson."

[bluerosefox]

Young Justice's Luck Strikes Again

Batman sighs deeply and rubs a temple.

It was meant to be a simple space mission, nothing to big. Just a quick check and report back.

Only problem is the ones he would normally assign this to are all dealing with other things so he had to ask... Someone else...

Like...

The ones that were once Young Justice.

Look, they were the only only ones with a spaceship (How? He still had no idea, Tim keeps saying 'What happens in YJ, stays in YJ') that could go far out without problems, and even though he knew putting the old YJ team together might be a bad idea, he trusted them especially Red Robin to be just a bit more professional at least. Since they were no longer teens but young adults now.

And again it was meant to just be a quick mission.

Nothing big.

So...

So why was Young Justice currently wrangling two floating black haired toddlers, one with blue eyes while the other one had red, and a black haired baby.

Turns out they found these children floating in space on their way back from their mission, cryo sleeping in a ice block huddled and cuddled together around a well loved teddybear with a teal headband on its head.

Or they were sleeping in cryo sleep until Superboy brought the ice block in and the thing melted allowing the children to wake up.

Batman could feel a headache coming on when he noticed just how... attached Young Justice was becoming to the children as well and knew it would be a miracle if he could get them to separate from the children.

[citranna]

There’s a new kid in Park Row.

Jason knows every single kid on the street, and this one is distinctly not one of them. Hell, judging by that scraggly bright red sweater, he’d be surprised if he’s even from Gotham. Still, the beat up sneakers and pants that are one size too small show he’s not gonna be a target for robbery.

He’s been here for about what, two weeks now? The kid’s been popping in and out of corridors and thin gaps between buildings, alert, without having a solid address. He hasn’t been seen with anyone consistently either. No parents, probably. If he had any Jason would’ve figured out where they live by now. The question is why he’s here. What could a street kid be looking for in Gotham that he wouldn’t get in his (most likely) better home city?

He’s careful when approaching him. The helmet scares the little ones, so he dawns his domino instead. Hands up and away from his body and at a respectable distance, Hood greets him.

“Hey kid.”

The boy turns his head around quick, eyebrows shooting to the top of his head before his eyes alight with recognition. Good, he knows him. It’ll make things easier. An uneasy smile spreads across the kids lips as he offers a small wave in greeting.

“Yeah, nice to meet you. What brings you to Park Row? You looking for something?”

The boy does nothing but shrug. Real helpful. Then again, it could be because…

“Can you speak?”

He brings his hand up and tilts it side to side. A symbol for ‘So-so, ish’. He could work with that, weirder shit has happened in this alley. He fishes into his breast pocket for a notepad and pen, thankful the kid doesn’t seem panicked in the slightest at the motion. Carefully, he draws closer to hand him the items.

Up close and directly under the moonlight, the kid looks around ten, but if he’s anything like the kids in the alley and himself at that age, he’s probably malnourished. He’s probably more like twelve, give or take.

The boy nods his head in thanks (cute that he has such good manners) and scribbles down a sentence in okay-ish handwriting, turning the pad to show Jason.

‘Can’t talk right now, lost my voice. I’m just looking around here.’

Jason scoffs. “There’s better places to look around, y’know, even if you don’t got cash. If this is just for fun I’d pick a better, cooler spot.”

Another line gets jotted down, faster than the last. ‘It’s cool, I think. It’s nice in its own way. I won’t be staying for much longer anyways.’

Interesting. His mouth opens to ask for more, but he finds itself quickly slamming shut. Although this kid is among the most friendly and open one he’s met (and oddly a smooth talker too—Jason feels compelled to just believe him and not question him further, but he’s able to push that weird feeling down) but it’s probably best not to push his luck and pry further.

“Cool, cool. If you ever need a place to stay for the night, there’s a new shelter right down the street we just built. My uh…office, is nearby too.”

The kid nods, a glint of knowing mischief in his eye. Jason waves, letting him walk calmly away from the direction of the shelter and straight towards the subway system where he disappears every night.

Yeah. Gotham’s definitely haunted.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

they tried to rebrand as The Criminals but riz is literally the city council's treasurer and also turns out people in their late 20s don't really name their friend groups. so now they're The Intrepid Heroes

[gothamite-rambler]

Nightwing (prodding his father's arm with his shoe): Batman? Batman? Hey, Batman?!

Batman (lying on the dirt ground in pain): What?!

Nightwing: You're clearly too… um, sore to drive. I'm going to take you home.

Batman (weakly raising his arm): You… can't drive the Batmobile! You're not equipped.

Nightwing: I’ve driven it before, you had me drive it when I was fourteen. Then I would take it for a joyride around Gotham when I was a teenager.

Batman: You what—? Oh, I felt a pop in my spine.

Nightwing (shrugging with a smile): I did a lot of things as a pre-teen and then when I got my license I really enjoyed taking the car for a spin. Did you know about the time I tried heroin? Never did that again. Still not sure how Roy got addicted, I had to go to the hospital. The doctor was nice that night. Oh, and then there was the time I snuck Kori into the pool house? Well when we first started dating and then again when we got back together. Fun times. Oh and then there was the time I used the Batmobile to take Jason out for ice cream. He was just a little kid back then!

Batman: He was fourteen! Why are you telling me all of this?

Nightwing helped prop up his father on his back and began to walk him to the Batmobile.

Nightwing: Because you’re too sore to stand up and scold me. Besides, I was a teenager; I did teenager stuff.

Batman: Trying heroin isn't "teen stuff"!

Nightwing: Alfred told me you smoked weed while traveling to Germany at seventeen.

Batman sighed, clearly annoyed.

Batman: The keys are in one of my pockets. If you can just get me into the passenger seat, I’ll pull them out myself.

Nightwing: Awesome! Ice cream is on me.

Batman (begrudgingly): I want rocky road.

Nightwing: I knew you'd say that.

[choccy-milky]

seb and clora working on baby #1 👶 🔞🔞!! NSFW !!🔞🔞

[poipiku]

[twitter]