#I hope you are doing alright too

[okwonyo]

goodbye okwonyo, we will miss you dearly ! in the time that you are away, i wish that you reach your goals. your fics always bring me joy and put me at peace. thank you for making us feel loved, i only wish that i could've made you feel just as loved in return. i admire the fact that you can put yourself before anything else (that's a very important and rare skill to have!) and please know that this is the right choice to make. it is very mature of you! me and many others will be awaiting your return. (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

love, someone who doesn't interact much ♡

hello lilriswife4life, thank you for this nice message, i will cherish it dearly. thank you for being the reader my writer self can rely on. <3

[protector-of-this-windy-city]

How’s Phillip doing?

I'm doing good. There are many cases that mean little time to rest, but I'm getting by just fine.

I still find the time to enjoy the little things like a cup of coffee or a nice walk!

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 170

Once again on my Ras & Danny being training rivals thanks to time travel bullshit. 

Look, Danny knows about the league of Assassins, but he almost dies of laughter when he realizes it’s the modern name of the league of Shadows. He’s an adult now, has been for a while, he’s allowed to find the situation he’s found himself in amusing. Hell, his sparring buddy who is somehow still alive is laughing too. 

And no one else knows what’s going on, okay? This random man walked into their secret base, completely ignored the many assassins trying to stop him, and called their illustrious leader a “Little Bitch Man” and they are now fighting?

The fighting is familiar, but why the fuck is Ras cackling and saying things like “Ayreh Feek” back. Practically saying “Fuck you,” while laughing and oh Pit, they’re Bantering this is terrifying, why has Ras not won yet, why has this man not died yet and- bodies aren’t supposed to bend like that what the fuck- 

Ras on the other hand, has One friend, who is immortal like him, actually remembers the shit he complains about, is also down for saving endangered animals, and actually knows how to spar! It’s not a proper spar unless someone loses at least a hand that has to be reattached! And honestly, people nowadays should know that the proper greeting to an old friend is to instantly try to kill the other. 

[bloobydabloob]

idk if you draw anything other than homestuck or if you accept this type of request but it would be very interesting to see johnny silverhand in your art xD

This is indeed exclusively a homestuck blog, but sure thing. Hope this suits your needs.

[noxious-fennec]

Won the war, got the independence, became president. Now what

[crabsnpersimmons]

She tries to overcome her shyness to give Clip a bag of sweets.

ough! thank you Moony! unfortunately Clip can't eat so--

haha don't worry, Clip will share those with the kids at the hair salon later.

or he'll forget about them and they'll come spilling out of his hat later to the surprise of Sun and Moon.

[shady-tavern]

Missing Piece

@piperjistic had asked for a forest spirit and while this isn't fully in line with your request, I still hope you'll like it!

Minor warnings ahead for non-graphic violence and a wee bit of body-horror towards the end, though it doesn't happen to the main character. Please be sure to take care of yourself!

*.*.*

For as long as the little girl could remember, it felt like something was missing within her. She could never put a finger on it, but it made her a restless child, picking up and discarding games, struggling with consistently staying interested and some days she just felt very strange. 

Like that one stained glass window she had seen when her parents had taken her to a nearby city. All disjointed fragments that still managed to be a picture, but it would never be one entire piece.

The stained glass window at least had been pretty compared to the ugly feeling within her.

"Have you ever felt like something is missing inside you?" she asked her grandma, who came to pick her up many a day while her parents worked. 

Things were strange between Gran and her parents, she never talked to them and they never talked to her and she never set foot onto their garden, preferring to wait for the little girl at the gate by the little dirt road.

Gran stilled and when the little girl glanced up at her, her face had gone dark and grim and for the first time in the girl's life, her beloved grandma, a joyful soul who loved her with all her heart, looked just a little bit frightening.

But her hand around the girl's remained gentle and the older woman kept walking at a sedate pace so her short little legs didn't struggle with keeping up.

Everyone always said to the girl that she would grow to be bigger and she couldn't wait for that day to arrive. Gran was silent for so long that the girl thought she was never going to answer.

"You best ask your parents about that," Gran said at last, voice quiet and heavy with something unspoken. Strangely, her voice reminded the girl of a draft horse she had seen, who had been forced to pull a too heavy burden, body straining as it slowly and laboriously set one hoof in front of the other.

"Alright," the girl answered and grinned up at her grandmother, hoping to break up the awful mood her innocent little question had created. "Can we make blueberry cake today?"

Gran smiled and it was like the sun returning after a dark, scary storm, her face brightening and looking as kind and loving as ever. "Of course, little chestnut." She leaned in, voice dipping into a conspiratorial stage whisper, "My wife picked an entire basket just this morning."

The little girl giggled and soon the two of them reached the end of the village, all talk about missing pieces and resulting, scary expressions forgotten. The blueberry cake was delicious and maybe a bit messy since the girl had tried to help a bit too enthusiastically and the cute little apron Gran had made for her was stained with purple-blue juice on one corner.

Gran's wife, Tanya, arrived just as they had taken the first bite of a still warm slice of cake.

"You baked without me?" she gasped in a mock scandalized voice. "Oh, the betrayal, how it stings!" She dramatically fell onto the kitchen table and the little girl laughed when the two older women broke out into a full blown performance just to ensure she kept laughing.

Gran brought her back home just as the sun set and a strong, steady wind blew in from the forest, bringing with it the smell of spring moss and damp, cool earth.

"If you ever meet any magical beings, be wary," Gran said as she stopped in front of the gate that creaked noisily as soon as it was two thirds of the way open. 

She looked down at the girl, her face serious. "One day you might and if you do, they will offer you deals and nothing good ever comes from accepting their offers. They will only bring ruin in exchange for empty promises."

As solemnly as the little girl could, she offered her little pinky. "I promise to be careful," she said and a shadow of a smile crossed Gran's face as they hooked their pinkies around each other gently.

Gran leaned down to kiss the top of her head before she left with a glance towards the house and the girl briefly glanced towards the forest. It was an old forest, not quite as ancient as in other places, but surrounded by plenty of stories and mysteries. 

The girl had heard rumors about creatures living in the woods, of magic being alive in ways the mages in the big cities could never hope to replicate. She decided to be very careful whenever she went into the woods to pick berries and mushrooms. She had promised, after all.

She entered her parents' house, neatly putting her boots beside her mother's and when she looked up at her parents, the question tumbled forth without much thought, "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"

Her mother, who was currently carving leather, stilled so thoroughly she might as well have turned to stone. Her father, in the process of cooking, seemed to freeze in place, the stirring of his ladle abruptly falling silent.

"You're still growing," her mother answered at last, voice quiet and her gaze on her work. "It will pass in given time."

The little girl stared at her, startled silent and with increasing heartbreak as the seconds passed, for she had just learned what her mother sounded like when she lied.

*.*.*

The conversation with her parents stayed with the girl as the months and years passed and she never asked again. Gran said nothing either, but every time she picked the girl up, she now glared at the house. 

Gran knew, the girl realized, but either couldn't say why she felt wrong or she didn't want to tell her.

Though, knowing her Gran, she probably couldn't for some reason. Gran had been born a rebel and she said she would die one, encouraging all of the little girl's bad habits, as her parents called them, with no remorse.

"This world will chew you up and spit you out, if you let it," Gran told her when she picked her up from school, her hand warm and gentle. "So don't be afraid to bare your teeth, little chestnut. Stand up for what you believe is right, that is the only way to slowly but surely kill off all things vile and dark."

The girl wasn't sure she entirely understood, but she nodded seriously anyway. Gran always told her everything no one else wanted to, blunt and direct without scaring her or hurting her feelings.

Gran felt strong, like a rushing river that wore down even the largest, toughest of boulders. The girl hoped she could be like her one day.

It was her Gran's teachings that got her in and out of trouble over the years and her words guided the girl into understanding when something was wrong. And how important it was to do something when she discovered evil.

As the village turned into a cute little town and more and more people moved in, drawing towards a hopeful future by their fertile lands and abundant forest, the girl had grown into a headstrong young woman.

Not once, in all that time, had she shaken off the feeling like she was lacking something. Like something was missing that should be there.

Her parents could no longer deny that something was wrong and their increasingly guilty and troubled looks said it all. It showed in the woman's life, that something within her was gone. As soon as someone looked into the little house she had moved into, they saw that no project was ever finished, every hobby dropped just after she had gained a modicum of skill in it.

She bounced from job to job, working for whoever hired her, before losing that job again, sometimes by leaving, sometimes by more talented, more passionate people coming along.

It was that restlessness that caused her to drift far enough from the town, the feeling of wrongness seemingly guiding her step, to cross paths with what she first thought was a traveling kind of circus.

There was a man leading the entire caravan of wagons, pale and primly dressed, clearly a mage considering his robes and pompous behavior as he hailed her down.

"We are no circus, young lady," he said when she asked about his business, but his eyes were cold and his smile about as pleasant as holding a palm full of slugs. "I am Master Egam and this is my curious collection. I intend to thoroughly impress the local lords."

He made a sweeping gesture at the wagons and she peered past him, at covered cages and grim looking soldiers.

Her gaze almost immediately fell back to the mage, however, and something ugly writhed within her chest. She couldn't put a finger on what it was, but it felt like sharp, uneven edges pressed against her ribs from within, accentuating the feeling of wrongness.

"Now, which way to the nearest town? It's growing rather late," Master Egam said, his smile wide and winning and yet it caused something cold to drip down her spine. There was a sudden taste of wet iron and rotting earth on her tongue.

It took her a moment to realize why, for she had never experienced anything like it. He had put magic into his words and it filled her mouth with a nasty taste. "This way, about a mile or so."

"Why don't you guide us?" he asked, patting the coach beside him. When she hesitated and saw a flash of curious danger in his eyes, she offered a bland smile.

"Thank you," she said, climbing up to join him, careful to keep some distance between them.

He stared at her for a moment and she resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. "You seem strangely...familiar," he mused after a moment. "Have I met you before? Or family of yours?" When she looked genuinely surprised, he shook his head. "Right, that is very unlikely. Then again, you country bumpkins all look the same to me."

She was desperate to distract him from her, which was thankfully easy enough to accomplish. All it took was a question about his exploits and soon he regaled her with all the horrifying details. Of the creatures he captured, the magic he had soaked up from them, the power he carried at his fingertips.

He was bragging, yes, but she could tell that every word was the truth. That he had chained a vampire into enduring sunlight at his leisure, that he had plucked all the feathers of a harpy to parade her around naked and that he had a griffin eating out of his hand for his amusement.

That he had caught one the most dangerous beings of all, a forest spirit.

She was deeply relieved when her hometown came into view and then she got to see the effects of his magic first hand. His voice seemed to be made of gold, for all he had to do was speak and people immediately rushed to obey, star-struck expressions and delighted, downright smitten smiles appearing on their faces.

She inched away from Master Egam and ended up by one of the wagons instead. Unable to resist, she tugged a corner of the covering up and peered inside.

Green eyes that shimmered like all the shades of plant life in the forest met hers and broken antlers rose from red and gold hair that tumbled down in long, thick waves. The forest spirit, she realized as she stared at him, wide eyed, his face sun-kissed and freckled and even chained down as he was she could see his innate power and grace.

The broken antlers disappeared, swiftly replaced by wolf ears as he now bared vicious fangs at her, wicked claws scraping over the iron lining the bottom of his cage as he growled.

"Careful with that one," Master Egam's voice made her jump and drop the tarp. "He's the most dangerous one I ever caught. A nasty piece of work."

"Why do you catch them?" she found herself asking and as she looked up at him, she already knew the answer before he opened his mouth.

"Because I can," he said, his smile as empty as his eyes were cruel. "Because the wild powers in this world need to know that they can and will be tamed. Now run along and don't tell anyone about this."

His magic was iron-rot on her tongue as she nodded, hastily pasting a smile on her face. It felt like fleeing as she turned and hurried away, her heart racing in her chest and the ugly, vile feeling that had scraped around her ribcage finally lessened.

The wrongness within her was as present as ever, a constant companion of subtle misery that dodged her steps, silent only whenever she found joy in things. Joy that was taken from her by its steady, suffocating grip sooner or later.

As soon as she was home, she began to pace, her mind whirring. She had to do something and whatever magic Master Egam possessed, she was somehow immune against it. She might be the only one who could think clearly around him.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm. Master Egam was dangerous and she was just a magic-less young woman who was all wrong inside. If she wasn't careful, she wouldn't have to worry about what was missing for much longer.

It wasn't hard, in the end, to find out that Master Egam was staying in the mayor's house, that he had tossed him and his family out and now treated the most lavish place as his. The mayor and his wife and two children seemed dazed but they didn't question what was being done to them, they just went to stay with their extended family.

The wagons were kept by the mayor's house, blocking most of the street and guarded by the soldiers, which were armed and armored.

She watched them as the last sunlight faded, thinking. Beyond the window she could see the mage and people came to his home, bringing downright decadent food with loving smiles and hazy eyes, leaving again empty handed.

An idea began to take form. A foolish one, most certainly, but it was likely her best chance. While Master Egam was busy feasting and ordering people around, most likely fancying himself a king among peasants, he would be distracted.

On second thought, he was most likely not traveling to impress lords, but to work his way up to becoming the actual king of these lands. Maybe even an emperor, holding court among captured creatures and his magic charming everyone into blind obedience.

So she joined a group of townsfolk who came with carefully made little cakes and desserts and they barely acknowledged her. The soldiers didn't even looked at them, most likely long used to this song and dance.

It was less easy to go unnoticed by Master Egam, but the man was easily distracted by the new offerings, already a good way through half the food he had been given.

No human should have been able to consume so much without bursting, she thought and she wondered if this was the price of his magic. That he not only could eat far too much, but had to.

"Bring this to the beasties," he said, gesturing at a little bucket of bones and food scraps and the young woman took a decisive step towards it, keeping her head down as she grabbed the bucket, stepping outside without being stopped. Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot.

The soldiers didn't pay her any heed now either. They looked bored and hungry as they watched another plate of food being brought in, but they said nothing. She wondered if they could even if they wanted to. If they were similarly charmed as anyone else.

"I need to feed them," she said politely to the nearest soldier, who moved woodenly to stare at her with a slightly hazy gaze. Ah, that answered her question. "I need the key, please. Master Egam's orders."

He handed the key over, because why wouldn't he? When everyone was always so fully under the mage's control, there was no reason to doubt. She went to the forest spirit's cage first, ignoring his low growl as she pushed the tarp up and began to look for the lock.

He fell silent as soon as she slipped the key into it and opened the door.

"I'll get you out," she whispered and his head tipped to the side, his wolf ears flicking as he considered her. And then, ever so slowly without removing those intense eyes from her, he tipped his head back, baring his collared throat.

She crawled into the cage, making sure to pull the door almost-closed behind her, the tarp falling down and leaving her in murky darkness with only her slightly fast breathing and pounding heart. She slowly inched forward, patting the ground, until clawed fingers carefully closed around her hand, guiding it up.

The collar had no lock and she stilled, her heart leaping in her chest. What was she supposed to do now?

"Bleed," the forest spirit said, voice such a horrible rasp that she was half convinced his throat was full of glass shards. "Willing offer."

She wasn't even thinking when she reached out with her free hand, gripping his fingers and pressing her palm against his claws. She felt him jerk in surprise, but the pain was already blooming, blood running down her hand in a hot line. She reached out to press her hand to his collar, smearing as much of her blood on it as possible and the next second the collar clicked open, crashing to the floor with a rattle of chains.

The forest spirit inhaled sharply and then she felt his hands touch her shoulder, careful and helping her shuffle a bit to the side. Freeing the path to the cage door, she realized

"Free the others, please," he whispered, his voice no longer sounding like he was gargling gravel, but instead charming and lovely-sweet. Her mouth was filled with the faint taste of meadow-flowers and cool spring water.

Then he was out of the cage and she scrambled to follow him, catching the door before it could slam shut.

The guards were lying on the ground and she saw the forest spirit springing past the last one he had taking down, vaulting over a confused man with a tart and heading straight into the house, face snarling in rage.

The next cage held the plucked harpy, who hissed a high-pitched shriek at her, but fell similarly silent when the door to the cage was unlocked.

Her collar too opened with blood and then the harpy was out, her feathers re-growing with a burst of magic that was almost painful with its relief. She took flight immediately, though she clearly struggled as she escaped, as did the griffin the young woman freed. 

The vampire slunk out of his cage with a look of wild hunger and gratitude before he was gone between one moment and the next. Just in time for all the windows in the house to shatter outward in a massive wave of pressure, the forest spirit crashing to the ground, wheezing and covered in blood.

The young woman was at his side in no time and as she gripped him and saw him in the light of the street lanterns without the distractions of his eyes, she realized just how thin he was. How his limbs shook as he struggled to his feet.

He stumbled, eyes going wide when she dragged him with her, just in time to round the corner before Master Egam came out of the house with magic whipping around him, a howl of rage filling the night as he found all his cages empty, his guards unconscious – or perhaps dead – on the ground.

"What are you doing," the forest spirit hissed, but he seemed unable to free himself from her grip, which told her everything she needed to know. She wasn't weak by any means, but she got the impression that he should be far stronger than she.

"Saving you," she hissed back. "You're in no condition to fight!"

"Return them to me!" she heard Master Egam's voice boom behind her, so loud and rattling it filled the entire town, making people cower and stumble, their gazes going hazy. "And find me the one who did this!"

Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot to the point where she had to gag, but she managed to push on, reaching the little house she had moved into after she could no longer stand the guilty silence of her parents. The moment they were through the door, the forest spirit collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, sweating and bleeding.

"His magic," he said as he stared up at her with wide, bright green eyes that she knew she could get lost in if she allowed it. "It doesn't work on you. Why?"

"No idea," she murmured back. "Come, we have to hide you."

She had managed to empty out a large storage chest and squeezed him inside despite his protest just in time for her neighbors to come knocking.

"No one is here, I came looking," she said, heart pounding and blood still dripping from her hand as she gestured at the hastily strewn about contents of her chest. "I made sure they weren't hiding."

"Come help search," her neighbors murmured, gazes hazy and she followed them outside, hoping that the spirit stayed where he was, that he wouldn't be found.

She searched with the others until they were all ready to collapse and only then did Master Egam order them to rest with such fury that the cobblestone cracked around him. He had long since roused his guards – most of which were still alive – and had sent them out to the forest to capture those that had run for the woods.

"They can't go far," she heard him mutter to himself as he turned around to head back into the house. "Not with the state I left them all in."

He wasn't wrong.

When the young woman returned home, she found the forest spirit still in the storage chest, asleep and looking utterly exhausted. She dropped into her bed and slept until hunger forced her awake. 

The smell of cooking food woke the spirit as well and she stared in astonished surprise as he ate at an alarmingly fast rate. Half her pantry was gone by the time he curled up in front of the hearth and went straight back to sleep. She dropped a thick blanket on him and arranged pillows to hide him from the outside and sat down, thinking.

Master Egam was powerful and she had no idea if she could hide the spirit until he regained his strength, especially if he needed that much food every day. And even then there was no guarantee that he'd be powerful enough to defeat the mage. But, she reasoned, he might be able to escape, which was just as good in her opinion.

She dozed off and woke feeling warm, blinking blearily to realize the blanket was now draped over her, the pillows carefully arranged to leave her in a little nest. Only the floor beneath her was a little hard. Peering around, alarm searing through her, worrying that something had happened, she relaxed as soon as she saw the spirit.

He stood with his back to her, looking at all the half finished projects she had lying around, not having the heart to put them away, even though she already knew she'd never finish them. That this was it and her love for a new hobby she had found was instead curdling into quiet, miserable grief.

"Thank you," he said before turning towards her. He already looked far better than yesterday, less gaunt and shaky on his feet. His injuries were gone as well, leaving only a somewhat tattered, stained shirt and worn, knee-length pants over hale and whole skin behind.

He tipped his head and the way the light of a lit candle reflected in his eyes reminded her of the way animal eyes would look when a lantern swept past them in the dark. "What do you want in return for your help?"

She paused after sitting up, then shrugged. "I don't want anything." Gran had been very firm about deals with magic creatures, that they brought ruin more often than not, her voice harsh and bitter as she had said it. As if there was more to her words than mere warnings.

Besides, the young woman had grown up on stories about daring knights, wise mages and courageous princesses and princes. She had always wanted to be like them, to do good with her own two hands whenever possible. Had secretly dreamed about one day saving someone as she had grown up.

It had been far more scary and harrowing than in her imagination, but she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

"You want nothing," the spirit repeated, sounding like he didn't believe her. "Everyone wants something, help is never freely given. Especially not from my kind and especially not when you saved my life. Do not take that kind of thing lightly."

"All I want is for you to be safe," she said. "Don't get hurt again, promise me that."

The forest spirit inhaled sharply, pupils blowing wide until only a small ring of green remained and she felt a warm shiver go through the air. Like something powerful had just exhaled a blessing.

He said nothing for a long moment, before he dipped his head, suddenly looking regal as the wolf ears melted away and antlers appeared that looked far more intact than last night. "Very well." 

He joined her by the hearth, dropping down to one knee and offered his hand. "Let me see your wound."

She held out her hand and felt a tingle of magic, could taste soft, gentle meadow flowers and refreshing water as relief took away the lingering pain. Her palm was unmarred, not even a scar remaining.

"You have no idea what you just gave me, do you?" he asked quietly when she looked at him, his gaze so very captivating it looked like the entirety of the forest had gathered in his eyes.

She offered a small, crooked smile. "I've never been around magic," she said, all too aware that he was still holding her hand, skin warm like sunshine. "You can hide here until you've recovered."

He tipped his head to the side. "You would welcome me even now, knowing who is looking for me?"

"You're safe here," she answered. "He can't charm me and you need time to recover. Just make sure no one sees you."

"What do you desire for your help in return?" he asked. "And don't say nothing again."

She thought of the wrongness within her and wondered if magic could fix it. Then she remembered Gran's warnings about deals and ruin and bit back a sigh.

"I'll think about something," she said, though she didn't intend to. Once the spirit was strong enough, he would either fight or leave, but either way she doubted she would ever see him again.

He didn't look happy about that, but accepted her answer graciously enough. Getting to her feet, the young woman waved him with her to the kitchen corner. If he was eating her out of house and home he could help her cook.

When it became clear he was actually the better cook, since she hadn't been able to learn too much before her wrongness had kicked in, she happily left him to it and grabbed her money, sneaking out.

The entire town was walking around in a strange sort of haze, half of them still searching and the other half catering to the mage. 

She saw people bring more food to the mayor's house, along with other things. Jewels and prized possessions, feathers the harpy had and griffin had lost and one or two held squeaking bats in their gloved hands, as though hoping they might be the escaped vampire.

No one looked twice at her when she bought as much food as she could at the market and she bit back bitter worry when she saw Gran and Granny Tanya bring blueberry cake to the mage with happy smiles.

Only her parents didn't seem to be out and about. Strange.

She brought the food back home and the forest spirit noticeably relaxed once she was back, thanking her quietly before falling quiet again. The young woman, however, could only stand the silence for so long before she began to ask questions.

Before long she knew that the forest spirit had gotten captured in his sleep, that his home was to the north and that he could sense the power of the nearby forest.

They both fell asleep in front of the hearth and by the second day, the young woman dragged her bedding out into the living room and made a proper place to rest for the two of them. 

The forest spirit was in a better mood today and she realized that under all the tense grimness he was rather playful and enjoyed teasing and, most of all, making her laugh. She noticed as the days passed how he regained his strength, the gauntness disappearing faster than it would have for a regular person.

They kept busy in the small house in different ways. She watched him finish some of her craft projects and taught him to dance, he conjured sprigs of flowers for them to 'pretty up the place with' as he said and he let her brush out and braid his hair after long baths, the bath water never cooling until they were well and truly done.

Every night they curled up on the hearth together and it was then, as he looked at her, hair a healthy, shining red and gold and fox ears perked to listen better, that the truth spilled out.

How wrong inside she felt and he frowned at her in what she recognized as worry.

"May I?" he asked, holding out his hand and she put hers into his without a moment's hesitation. His face went soft and gentle in a way that ached somewhere around her tender heart as he held her hand with care.

Then he closed her eyes and she could taste meadow flowers and cold water and his frown deepened.

"I - you must talk to your parents," he said and as soon as the words were out, his head reared back a bit, ears pinning flat to his head as he blinked, looking startled and irritated. "Oh, how nasty."

She stared at him, wide-eyed and for the first time got the feeling that something was very, very wrong in a different way than she had thought.

"I'll go now," she whispered and he nodded, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze before she got to her feet.

Her parents looked worried and tense when they opened the door, relaxing a bit when they saw it was her, only for the tension to snap back into their frames. She realized immediately that they knew why she was here.

That there was a reason why she and they alone weren't slaves to the magic-charm of a mad mage. That they did know why she felt like a piece was missing.

"What's wrong with me?" she asked, sharp and hard in a way she had never spoken with them and they stepped aside to let her in.

They stood around the living room awkwardly until her father broke first, guilty and defensive and shoulders hunched, the silence around them heavy and thick and oppressive like summer heat without a cooling breeze.

"We didn't know," he said, almost pleading as he looked at his daughter. "When we met that...that man on our travels. We didn't know."

Something hot was wrapping around her heart and throat and a bad feeling unfolded in her gut, wriggling to get comfortable like a cat in a beam of sunlight. "Tell me the truth. Now. You owe me that much at least."

"We asked for a good life," her mother whispered, staring down at the ground, arms wrapped around herself and her head bent, shoulders tense. "We asked for nothing unreasonable, because being greedy only curses you. We asked for a good, warm, house, for enough money to buy what we desired until our deaths and to lead healthy, long and safe lives. We wanted the sort of fortune that would ensure we would have everything we desired until the day we died."

The heaviness in the air seemed to press down harder, like a thick blanket over sticky, sweaty skin, trapping heat and impossible to shake, no matter how desperately she wanted to get rid of it.

"What was the price?" the young woman asked, her tongue almost numb in her mouth. Though, she already knew. Could feel it in the marrow of her bones, could feel it in the stained glass shape of her soul, all disjointed and wrong and missing missing missing. Always missing something.

"You were but a babe," her father answered before she could ask again. "We didn't think...when he asked for a piece of you, something that wouldn't hurt you if he took it, we thought, well, if you grew up without it...you wouldn't know what you were missing."

Her heart shouldn't break, she thought, as pain and anger and grief greedily dug into her chest and belly. It shouldn't break when she didn't even feel all that surprised to hear what they were saying.

She thought of her life filled with things she couldn't finish, couldn't dedicate herself to no matter how deeply she loved, like her hands were too restless, desperately trying to find something to fill the void within her. All the friendships she had lost over the years, the disappointed people she had worked with and most of all, how miserable she had been.

She thought about feeling wrong and disjointed and like a stained glass window made by a clumsy apprentice and with the intent to make other people whisper and point and laugh instead of impressing them.

Weird, strange, not-fitting-in. Wrong.

Wrong, wrong, wrong, had sung through her veins for as long as she could remember and she had walked through life feeling like a part of her was gone, but unable to voice it. Unable to even name what was missing. 

Thinking that, maybe, this was just her lot in life. That nothing could be done about it and she had tried to do her best with the hand she had been dealt by fate.

And all this time, her parents had just...traded that part of her away. For small comforts. For a future they could have made themselves with their own hands had they cared to try. For a life bartered and paid for by someone else, so they wouldn't have to shoulder the burden. 

And then they had lied to her about it, had left her thinking that nothing could be done to make her feel better. That this was normal.

"Who?" she asked numbly and she blinked, realizing she was halfway to the door. When she looked at her parents, hot, angry hatred crawled up her throat like a wave of lava at seeing their wounded, self-pitying faces. "Who did you allow to hurt me?"

"Master Egam," her father whispered, his voice barely audible in the heavy, suffocating silence. "We can't let him see us or he might remember."

She was out the door before he could finish speaking, heart breaking and racing and she wasn't surprised at all, even though she thought she should be. So that was why his magic wasn't working on her – and her parents, if part of their deal was to remain healthy and unharmed at all times. Just what had Egam taken from her to make a deal that protected them no matter what?

She didn't remember the path home, but the moment the door fell closed behind her, she looked at the forest spirit and all the breath rushed back into her lungs. He was waiting with a plate of cookies he had baked that afternoon and his gaze was so gentle and understanding it made the wounded part of her tremble.

He opened his arms, a silent invitation and for a moment there was so much awful anguish in her, she didn't know what to do. Had no idea how to react if someone touched her, if it would drain the pain and anger or make it spill over, ugly and messy and raw. Like a wound that had had years and years and years to grow until it had spread and festered.

Then she moved and let him catch her and cradle her close as she broke down, crying as bitterly and hard as she had never cried before. He held her tightly as she shook apart, her head tucked under his chin and she cried and cried until she felt empty inside. Empty and wrong.

"They gave a piece of me to Egam," she whispered, voice thick and scratchy and he stilled. She tightened her grip on the shirt she had gotten him during one of her trips to the market, where food had started to grow scarce. "In exchange for a good, comfortable life."

He cupped the back of her head and kept holding her, offering no empty platitudes and no 'I'm sorry's, for which she was grateful. She didn't want sorrys. She was...she was too damn fucking furious for that, she realized, now that the pain had momentarily drained away.

"I want it back," she said, biting the words out like they were bones snapping between her teeth. "I want it back and I want this monster gone."

He hugged her tighter and she felt his smile press against her temple, sharp and dangerous and fanged and not the least bit afraid of her rage. Not the least bit judgmental the way others had reacted to her anger over the years.

"Let's shred him," he whispered against her hair, soft lips brushing forehead. "Let's get back what he stole from us."

*.*.*

It hadn't taken too long to prepare. The forest spirit had recovered fully and there wasn't anything in town that could help them against a mage, but in the end, they didn't need much anyway. 

They didn't need fancy things or mage slayers. Not when the mage in question would give them the weapons they needed, born out of his own greed and hubris.

Born out of a deal he had made with her parents and Gran really was right, deals only ever brought ruin. Because she and the part Egam had taken from her were about to become his.

The forest spirit gave her hand a squeeze and they exchanged one more look as they got ready behind her house, his eyes fierce and so trusting it briefly stole her breath away.

"When this is over, travel with me," he said, out of nowhere. "I want to show you my home. The brooks and meadows and mountains and lake."

She smiled back, a warmth that had nothing to do with the burning rage spreading through her, smoothing down her edges and settling around her heart like a protective blanket.

"Gladly," she answered quietly, then her smile turned a bit crooked. "What, you aren't going to ask for anything in exchange, leaf boy?"

He laughed softly and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "You're too precious for deals," he said quietly and she could taste his magic, sweet and cool and it almost brought tears to her eyes, though she couldn't quite say why.

"Let's go," she said instead and he reached up to gather his hair, pulling it aside to allow her to put the pilfered chain from the wagon around his neck. They had scratched out all the symbols on the inside of the iron, destroying the enchantment that would block his magic.

With a bit of glue it would stay shut for now and he caught her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles until they stopped shaking. They both took a deep breath and stepped onto the street, a glamor settling over his skin, making him look gaunt and injured once more. He limped, casting her one last wink before people noticed them.

The townsfolk paid attention to her for the first time in nearly a month as she went to the mage's house. Word must have traveled ahead, for Master Egam was already awaiting them and the mayor's house was saturated with iron-rot. She could see a few hints here and there of the chaos that must've reigned before he had gotten things cleaned up to welcome them, sitting on a padded chair like it was a throne.

"Bring him to me, girl," he said, beckoning and his smile benevolent and his eyes glittering like cold glass shards. His hunger was deep enough to cut and she bit back a shiver at the disgust that crept beneath her skin the closer she came to him.

"My prized possession," Egam murmured, already ignoring her and his magic grew thicker in the air, almost making her gag. The forest spirit pretended to fight, snarling as he was dragged forward, looking like he was too weak to resist. "And you put him back in his proper attire too, good girl."

He absentmindedly patted her on the head and she made herself smile at him, empty and dazzled, like the other townsfolk, swallowing down bile. The spirit had told her that Egam had stolen a piece of his magic too, forcefully instead of willingly, but it was in his hands all the same.

It was time to get back what belonged to them.

She handed over the chain, his gaze on the forest spirit like he wanted to devour him whole. Like the monsters and villains in her stories growing up, greedy and cruel and insatiable.

Egam moved past her, already discarding her as unimportant. As under his control. As just another 'country bumpkin'. He was the powerful mage after all and, as he had said, he already had one of the most powerful beings under his control.

A powerless girl might as well be dirt under his boots.

That was the exact reason he didn't see her nick her hand on a small knife hidden in her pocket. Why he didn't see her smile at the forest spirit over his shoulder before reaching out. 

He didn't look at her and therefore couldn't react in time when she stepped to his side and reached up, pressing her bloody hand over his heart at the same time that the forest spirit lunged forward. 

The mage did react, aiming his magic at the bigger, perceived threat, like they had suspected. And just like they had hoped, his magic slid off of the forest spirit harmlessly, for when the young woman had saved his life and he had offered her compensation of the same magnitude, she had asked for him to be safe.

The forest spirit was unhindered, pressing bloody palms to the mage's chest, right over his heart, sharp, sharp teeth bared and he snarled, "I undo the deal."

"I undo the deal," she spoke simultaneously with him, the words the forest spirit had taught her, steady and patient as each one was nothing but pain in her throat. Because she wasn't supposed to say those words, but then again, parents weren't supposed to give away what didn't belong to them either, so she had a right to this.

A right to undo what had been done to her, as long as she could get through the pain that tried to keep her from speaking. Pain that was worse than any wrongness had ever been, any loneliness and pain and grief and self-loathing for not being like all the other people. 

For never getting to keep doing the things she loved, forever searching for something she hadn't known she'd have to buy back with blood and pain.

It was the worst pain she had ever endured, but it wasn't stronger than the rage in her veins, the taste of iron-rot on her tongue and the sun-warm hand that took her free, unharmed one, grounding and strong. The look of startled anger on the mage's face swiftly morphing into fear was everything in this moment.

"I undo the deal made made without my voice, without my consent, without my agreement. I undo it as it was made, in pain and blood and betrayal," they spoke in perfect unison, their only chance to both get back what had been taken from them.

Their only chance to catch him so by surprise that he did feel betrayed, that he was as helpless as they had been, asleep and a babe respectively.

The moment the last word left her mouth, a sudden relief gripped her throat, releasing the burning agony that had torn through it and at the same time, she felt something warm and big spread through her chest.

The wrongness disappeared in an instant, the feeling of missing turning into wholeness so filling and great she almost stumbled back, her skin tingling and euphoria singing through her so brightly she had to sob. Because that wasn't just a missing piece, a sliver of soul that he had taken and that was now returned to her.

Magic, he had taken magic from her. It glittered like stars in the dark in her veins, spilled through her mind like bright sunlight on shimmering waves and wrapped around her with a desperation like it had longed to return to her as relentlessly as she had wanted it to return to her.

Egam was screaming as he stumbled back and they let him, watched him trip and spill to the ground as he writhed, clawing at his chest where blood smeared, hot and red and the forest spirit gripped her hand tighter.

His magic was heavy in the air, making her taste rivers and entire fields full of flowers and even from the corner of her eye she could see how much more vibrant he was now, the glamor dropped. Captivating and downright otherworldly, beautiful and mesmerizing.

"What have you done!" Egam shrieked but his words no longer tasted of iron-rot in the air and she blinked, realizing the power of his voice had been stolen from someone else. As she watched him seemingly shrink down, magic leaving him, her breath caught.

Oh. Her magic had been the first he had stolen. Her magic was what had bolstered all of his and now that it was gone, everything he was unraveled until it left behind a pitiful little man, with eyes so mean and cruel he should belong in a story, not in real life.

"I promised you I would be your end," the forest spirit said and his voice was filled with magic. The sort of magic that had previously been used by Egam to charm everyone. "I think your hunger and greed are better suited in a different shape and form. In something that grows, don't you?"

And Egam tried to scramble to his feet and run, but the magic of the forest spirit was so thick in the air it her own magic sing in return, bright and sparking and the fury was still a living, roiling wave of heat within her. She reached out without much thought, letting her magic wrap around the forest spirit's, who threw his head back and laughed.

He laughed as Egam screamed in a pitch no human throat should be capable of. He laughed as the screams cut off and branches broke out of his back, his skin turning to bark and the mage grew and grew and stretched and the young woman found herself pulled out the house as floorboards and walls, doors and furniture and remains of windows were devoured.

She watched as a tree grew and grew and grew until the trunk was as wide as the house had been and it reached high into the sky, the canopy so thick and wide it sheltered the entire town under its boughs. 

And her magic was singing and singing and singing and she felt so hale and whole she felt like she was floating. The forest spirit turned towards her, grinning and took her injured hand, pressing a kiss to the cut, smearing blood over his lips as he healed it.

"We're free now," he whispered, eyes so very green and then she was laughing and crying and pulling him forward and he followed her, pressing kisses that tasted like fading copper and brightly like flowers and cold water to her lips.

They were free. Free and whole at last and she felt like she was truly breathing for the first time since she could remember. Deep breaths that seemed to fill her entire body, her magic twining with his as it surrounded them, forest and sky and her tears were wiped away with gentle, gentle hands.

"We are," she whispered, sinking her hands into his hair until she had threaded starlight through it. "Let me introduce you to Gran and Granny Tanya and then I want to see your home."

He laughed and picked her up and twirled her in a circle and she found herself laughing as well, flowers blooming to form a crown on her head.

Where previously a quiet sort of misery had loomed in her future, saturating all coming days, she now couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life looked like.

Bright, she thought as she held his face in her hands, their foreheads gently pressing together. Her future was bight and free and full of love and she was still laughing and crying, happy beyond words. And her magic, finally, finally returned to her, sang and shone and at long last, she felt nothing but right inside.

*.*.*

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[hailsatanacab]

For the prompt ask game!

9. Sleep deprivation and/or 37. Secret Relationship and/or 40. Identity reveal/major secret reveal

(I selected a few so you can chose the one that resonates the most.)

For any DPxDC characters. <3

*emerges from a google docs, covered in blood and panting* i did it... it is done.

thank you for the prompt!! because i love a challenge, or because i can't stop myself, i went and did all of them!! for everyone!! everyone is sleep deprived and everyone is revealing secrets ^^'

Danny/Tim, mentioned Jazz/Jason

(๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) enjoy!! prompt ask game

kid napping

“Red Robin, sound off. Status?”

“All good here, Oracle. Everything okay?”

It’s been a slow night, never a good sign. Pent up energy itches under his skin and he stretches when he stands, preparing for whatever Oracle is going to throw his way. It’s going to be something, he can tell.

“Good.” Relief briefly colours her voice answers, before she becomes serious again, keys clacking away in the background. “There’s been a report from Agent A. It appears that one Timothy Drake has been kidnapped and is being ransomed for five million dollars and a helicopter. I’m tracing the call now.”

“A helicopter, too? Kidnappers these days, used to be they just wanted their money and that would be the end of it… a fucking helicopter, wow.” Red Hood scoffs, and Red Robin can’t help but join in the laughter over the comms.

“Doesn’t exactly sound like these are the brightest tools in the shed now, does it, Hood? Wonder what poor schmuck they’ve got instead.” Nightwing says, slightly out of breath. 

The smile slips off Red Robin’s face and clammy, cold dread shivers down his spine. A stone settles in his stomach. He wets his lips and clears his throat. “Oracle, can you pull up the CCTV on my apartment near WE? Any closer to tracing the call?”

“Still on the trace, they’re using a jammer. Agent A is cooperating so they should phone back soon, which will help.” she reports, falling into silence as he finds the video feed.

“You know who it is?”

“I hope not.”

It’s tense, he taps his feet on the rooftop, fingers tightening over his grapple as he fights the urge to fly off the roof and check for himself. It better not be him. Please, dear God, don’t let it not be him.

“What are you thinking, Red Robin?” Batman growls through the comms. Red Robin can hear the wind under his words, whipping fast as he no doubt makes his way over to his position.

“I had a, uh, a friend coming over tonight. From behind, he… he could be mistaken for Tim Drake.”

The jokes fall silent, the comms growing serious as they pick up on his tone.

“Well, fuck.” 

“Eloquent as always, Hood.”

“Shut up, bat-brat.”

“You were right, Red Robin, it looks like it was your… friend they caught, instead. About two hours before the call came in. I’m following their van now, I should have the destination soon. In the meantime, it looks like they’re heading towards the docks.”

Red Robin throws himself off the building, shooting his grapple as low as he dares to get the fastest swing he can. 

They have Danny. 

Worry gnaws at his gut even as gravity pulls it into his throat with another swing.

Danny is… And Red Robin means this in the nicest way possible, but Danny is fragile. They haven’t talked about it, but RR knows that Danny has health problems. Something plaguing him since he was young, that’s landed him in the hospital more than once. A weak heart, far too slow to be normal, possibly chronic fatigue—he’s always so tired, falling asleep anywhere he can.

Sometimes, he doesn’t even need to put his head down. Once, when they had gone to the corner store to get some popcorn to enjoy their movie (which Danny had explicitly and repeatedly promised he wouldn’t snore through this time), Danny had rested his head on Tim’s shoulder while they were waiting and he’d just… gone. On his feet, asleep, just like that.

He’d laughed, when Tim woke him up. Apologised. Said Tim made him feel safe enough to fall asleep just about anywhere and—

Red Robin grits his teeth and corrects his course as Oracle updates them with more precise coordinates.

Tim had carried him home that night, piggy-back for four blocks, but by the end of it, he wasn’t tired at all. And that’s another thing, Danny’s just so light. It’s concerning.

They never did watch that movie, but it’s a night that Tim can’t help remembering fondly all the same. They’d ended up rewatching some old sitcom that Danny’s seen countless times but Tim’s never really bothered with, Danny drifting off to sleep again and Tim eventually following him, because… sleep is easy with Danny.

It’s the same for him, he thinks. He can’t explain it, but he feels safe enough to sleep with Danny, too.

He needs to be alright.

“So… Is this friend just a friend? Or a friend friend?” 

“A friend, Nightwing. Now hurry up.”

He’s not in the mood to play these games, not now. There’s a reason why none of them know about Danny, and this is one of them. His family, as much as he loves them, are just too damn nosey for their own good.

“You know that doesn’t answer my question at all.”

“Then why don’t you ask something intelligible, rather than continue with your childish antics?” Robin snarks, and for once, Red Robin has to agree with him. Or, rather, he’s grateful for the distraction that it gives him.

Tim has secrets. He’s sure that Danny does, too, and so far—aside from the standard background check he always runs on new friends and friend friends alike—he’s done very well to respect them. He just can’t say that his family would do the same.

They can be overwhelming, to say the least, and Tim has tried his best to protect Danny from that.

Only to fail to protect him in every other way that it counts.

“How long have you guys been ‘friends’?”

“Nightwing, save it, please.”

“What’s his name?”

He ignores him.

Red Robin lands on the building first, thank goodness. He wastes no time in finding a skylight that can be pried open fairly quietly, slipping inside without a second thought.

“Wait for backup, Red Robin, that is an order!” Batman says, when he lets them know he’s in.

“Negative, Batman. I’m getting him back.”

“Red Robin!”

He weaves silently through the desks on the second floor of the warehouse, always moving, always keeping a trained eye on the shadows around him.

When he reaches the stairs, he hears voices.

“Looks like three of them, armed. The-the hostage is tied to a chair in the middle of the room, he…” Red Robin takes a steadying breath. The person has a burlap sack over their head is slumped to the side, from where he is, Red Robin can’t see if his chest is moving. There’s blood on the floor. “He needs medical assistance. Another two on the northside entrance.”

The comms explode in admonitions, everyone pleading with him to stay where he is, to wait for help, but fuck that. With a tap, he switches them off and he can finally, just about make out the words of the kidnappers as he creeps down the first few steps.

“—shouldn’t he have woken up by now?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re the one that hit him! Do you think he’s—”

“No! I didn’t even hit him that hard, I swear!” the man cries, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just couldn’t take any more of his stupid jokes!”

If there was any doubt in Red Robin’s mind that they picked up Danny by mistake, it’s gone now. Yeah. If you get Danny, you get his stupid jokes, too.

He creeps closer. 

There’s some storage crates between him and Danny, if he can get behind there without being seen then that leaves him in a good position for when whoever’s next in takes out the guys at the front. He can’t do anything without them gone first, not without risking them taking shots inside and endangering Danny.

The man that hit Danny circles round behind him and grabs at his hands.

“What are you even doing, Pat? Who gives a shit, leave him alone.”

“I’m just checking! I just gotta see!”

“Fuck’s sake, guys, who cares? We just gotta get our money, that’s it—”

“And our helicopter!”

“And our—”

“Shit, I can’t find a pulse! Shit, Frank, I killed him, I—”

Jason told him once that when the Pits overtook him, he used to see green. Instead of blacking out, he’d be swimming in that putrid Lazarus colour and he’d slip into that rage and bad things would happen.

He’s heard of people seeing red, too, but really, he thinks that’s more of a literary device.

Tim doesn’t see anything aside from his targets.

A barrage of birdarangs take the guns from the guys at the front, the three around Danny startling badly enough that the guy that kil—that’s behind Danny—stumbles, losing his footing.

Only one of them shoots.

Amateurs. 

There’s a round of curses on the comms as the shots come through. Oracle must have turned them back on.

“Fucking hell—Nightwing and I are at the front, Red Robin, don’t worry about them.”

Red Robin’s barely listening.

He spins, kicking the largest guy in the stomach hard enough so that he doubles over, wheezing. Following through the movement, another kick lands on the side of his head and he’s down. 

The second one, Frank, gets his wits about him and raises his gun, spraying wildly. He’s a shit shot, going wide in panic, and Red Robin simply ducks and rushes forward, keeping low. Tackling the guy, he grabs the gun off of him and uses it to smash him across the face, once, twice, three times, before he stops moving.

“Oracle, get police and paramedics on scene, now.” Batman says, the displeasure in his voice evident. “Red Robin, Robin and I are coming in from the top.”

Pat hasn’t even made it up off the floor yet, scrambling backwards, fear plain on his face. 

Red Robin stands, breathing heavily, gun still in hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to do it! Please—please, don’t, please!”

Red Robin doesn’t kill.

Well, no, Red Robin doesn’t normally kill.

No, that’s not quite right, either.

Red Robin has killed. Red Robin will more than likely kill again. Red Robin sees no problem with killing.

The gun is up, pointing towards the guy without any real thought about it.

Footsteps rush behind him, the familiar heavy footfalls of Batman and Robin, so he doesn’t bother turning around. The gun follows the guy as he keeps pulling himself backwards, snot and tears mingling down his face.

“Red Robin,” Batman says, softly.

It’s always weird hearing Batman’s voice like that. It’s not the first time, obviously—Batman can’t use his scary intimidating voice on victims or children, after all—but having it used on him is weird. 

“Breathe.”

“He’s dead. They killed him.”

If hearing Batman’s voice was weird, Red Robin can’t even recognise his own.

Distantly, he realises he’s dissociating. There’s a tightness in his chest, it’s hard to breathe, a growing buzz drowns out any noise in his ears and he can’t think, he can’t—

A heavy hand squeezes his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts. Batman reaches around and gently removes the gun from his grip, and Tim feels the instant loss of it. He should have done it, why hadn’t he done it?

Robin takes care of the last man, his crying cut off by a swift kick to the head. Nightwing and Red Hood join them, zip-tying the men on the floor and starting to drag them back to the entrance of the warehouse one by one.

No one says a word.

Shrugging off Batman’s hand, Tim moves towards the chair.

Shaking, he takes a deep breath and removes the sack. The small part of him that was left hoping it wasn’t him, it couldn’t be him, please dear God let it not be him, shatters.

Even dead, he looks peaceful.

Tim’s seen death. He’s no stranger to it, he’s seen what it can do to a person. There’s some blood coagulating over his eyebrows, but otherwise, he looks peaceful. Is that comforting? That he didn’t suffer?

Danny’s head lolls to the side as the sack comes completely away, his hair flopping over his eyes. Tim’s been on at him to get a haircut lately, he thinks it’ll be nice tidied up a bit, just on the sides. It’ll get rid of that permanent bedhead. Help him with job interviews, he’s got to be thinking about that now that he’s in his last year of college.

It’s about the only thing that’ll hold him back, Tim thinks. Danny’s brilliant. Any employer would be a fool to turn him down because of his shaggy hair, but employers are stupid so it makes sense to put your best foot forward and—

Tim falls to his knees.

Fuck.

He’s dead, he’s really—Danny’s skin is horribly pale, cold to the touch. Gone is his bright, cheerful smile. 

“Danny, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I—” 

He stops himself with a deep, shuddering breath. He can’t break down here, he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Instead, he tips forward to rest his head in Danny’s lap, arms curling around himself. They were too late. They got here as fast as they could and they were too late.

 “Danny, I’m so sorry…” he whispers. “I… I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”

Dimly, he can feel the others standing around them. Someone crouches down beside him, resting a comforting arm over his back, but he doesn’t turn his head to see who it is. He squeezes his grip on Danny’s legs tighter.

“Come on, baby bird. Let’s—”

They’re interrupted by a huge, honking snore as Danny jerks himself awake.

Tim’s head snaps up, staring at Danny with wide eyes.

“You were asleep?” Red Robin springs up, several different emotions rapidly flip flopping through him.

“Wha… What?” Danny heaves a yawn, blinking blearily down at him. “Sorry, I’m just… they were shit kidnappers, man, really boring. Honestly, worst abduction yet.”

“You were asleep? I thought you were dead!”

“Not mutually exlusive, you know.” Danny says through another yawn. He rolls his neck around with an almighty crack and glances at everyone. “Didn’t think I’d warrant the whole Bat brigade, though…”

“The kidnappers thought they had Tim Drake.” Batman supplies, while Red Robin tries to work through the emotional whiplash.

“Ah, makes sense… wait.” Danny sits up suddenly, squinting at Red Robin. “Did you say you loved me?”

“No, of course not, why would I—”

“Tim? Is that—are you—are you Red Robin?”

“Everyone, hold the fuck up!” Red Hood shouts from the other side of the warehouse, having finished securing the perps to a streetlight outside. “Double R is dating Danny fucking Nightingale?”

Well, there goes his identity… Oh, who’s he kidding, Danny’s smart. There’s no way he could have salvaged that. This was not how he thought the night was going to go.

“Cranberry, is that you?” Danny twists in his chair, somehow delighted to see Red Hood rescuing him, too. “I thought I smelled you lurking about!”

“Shut it, you little shit. Since when were you dating this dweeb?”

“I’m sorry,” Red Robin pleads, hands in the air to try and slow down the onslaught of information and insults, “you two know each other?”

“Cranberry?” Nightwing echoes, looking as lost as Red Robin feels.

“Yeah, Cranberry—The Cranberries—zombie, zombie, zombie-ie-ie. Obviously. Also he’s wearing a big, fuck off red helmet.”

“Yeah, sure, makes sense.”

It’s about the only thing that does.

“And please don’t call my boyfriend a dweeb, Cranberry. Especially when he just said he loves me for the first time.”

“He only said it because he thought you were dead.”

“I am dead, so it counts.”

“Only half, so I’d say that puts you at a solid ‘like’. Tim’s—and savour this, Tim, because I’m only going to say it once—Tim’s intelligent, so I’m sure he’ll come to his senses soon.”

Danny just throws Red Hood such a shit-eating grin. A level of feral that Tim’s only seen before in Damian. 

“That’s what I used to say about Jazz, too.”

Hood scoffs in offence, and to be honest, Tim’s not sure where he should go from here. What the hell is happening, how do they know each other?

“Come on, is anyone going to untie me or am I really meeting your family mafia-style?”

“Do it yourself, Slimer.” Red Hood laughs, crossing his arms.

“Ugh, you suck so much. I’ll fucking slime you, just you wait. Can’t believe Jazz even likes you, I preferred it when she was dating Johnny.”

And then, without Danny doing anything other than muttering obscenities at Red Hood, the ropes fall to the ground. In one swift motion, Danny stands up and stretches himself to his full height of 5’6.

“All of you need to explain, now.” commands Batman, and honestly, Red Robin’s very much on his side of it.

“I can’t believe it… Jason and Timmy are both in secret relationships? That’s… How come no one told me?” Poor Nightwing sounds the most shocked out of all of them. He turns to Damian and clasps onto both of his shoulders. “You’re not secretly dating, are you, D? Please tell me you’re not, please tell me you’re single, please?”

Of course, Robin just clicks his tongue and pushes his hands away. Really, Red Robin doesn’t think that Nightwing’s in any danger of that happening, he’d be surprised if anyone could stand Robin enough to actually date him.

He shakes his head and turns to Danny, who’s staring right back at him, worry clear on his face.

Fuck, he... He's alive. He's really alive.

Tim pulls him into a bone-crushing hug, fingers buried deep in his NASA shirt. Tucking his face into the crook of Danny's shoulder, he laughs wetly with the joy of it. He's alive. He hasn't lost him. He's safe.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now, starshine, but…” Danny breaks the hug and softly pulls away from him to rise on his tiptoes to place a kiss his cheek. The skin burns cold where his lips touch. “I love you, too. Also, you’re gonna wanna sit down. This is going to be a lot.”

[cerise-on-top]

Can I request the fluff alphabet for Nikolai or Soap? So happy to hear you’re doing well, always look forward to your writing!

Hey there! Of course you can! And thank you! Glad to hear you enjoy my writing!

Fluff Alphabet for Soap

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Soap definitely loves being out and about, so he’d love nothing more than to go outside with you and just do things there. It doesn’t even need to be anything terrific like hiking on top of a mountain, a walk in the park suffices for him as well. As long as he gets to spend time with you he’s all game. Though, beware: He will likely be touching you in some way the entire time. If it’s raining outside or the weather is bad otherwise then he’ll opt for cuddling on the bed or couch with you. He’s a touchy guy, the only time he’ll let up is when you need to use the bathroom. But even then he’ll whine to no end.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

He knows that he can’t be home for too long, so he definitely admires your patience with him. It takes quite a lot of it to date a soldier. Another thing he admires about you would be your loyalty and trust in him. He’s abroad for months at a time, but you don’t question his intentions, believing that he’ll stay with you. And that he will. Soap wouldn’t betray that trust. You don’t message him every time you’re being insecure about your relationship because there’s no need to be. Soap makes sure you feel loved and that you’re the only one.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He’d go about it in the same way he’d prefer to be handled during tough times. He, too, can be a patient man and will listen to your every woe, should you want to tell him about it. Although he may not have the best advice for everything, he’ll certainly try. If you want your favorite dish, he’ll cook it for you. If you just want to cry on his shoulder, he’ll let you while he holds you.

If you’re having a panic attack then he’d try to calm you down immediately, getting you away from whatever might be causing you even more distress. He’s learned a thing or two about calming down, so he’d just talk to you, distracting you from it all until you feel better. This guy has plenty of stories to tell, funny ones too. He’ll calmly talk to you, trying to not have his accent be as thick as it usually may be either so you can understand him.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He’s a more traditional man, so I can see him wanting to get married to you eventually. He dreams of the day he gets down on one knee, pulling out the little box with the ring in it and asking you the big question. Afterwards he’d love to have a dog with you. A rather big one as well, like a St. Bernard or a German Shepherd. Soap loves picturing the kind of future where his dog will lie on top of you while you try to get it off and complain to him about him taking pictures of it. He may love being a soldier, but he adores you and would do anything for you.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He believes himself to be more dominant than he actually is. Sure, he can take on the role of being the more dominant person among the two of you, but he will step back as well if he needs to, or wants to. When it comes to your well-being, though, that’s when he’ll get very aggressive. Someone sleazebag is flirting with you? Soap’s won against plenty of people, so this fucker will be no exception. However, he can appreciate a suggestion you have made as well and will follow directions. Sometimes he does like letting you take the reigns as well, though.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

It’s not very hard to annoy him, even if he can hold himself back usually. But when it all gets too much he’ll get a bit louder for a moment before going quiet. He’ll be passive aggressive the entire time, even if he won’t outright insult you. He knows when emotions are appropriate, so he can control them 80% of the time. Won’t insult you, won’t yell at you either, but he will hiss at you. Give him some time to cool down and think it all over and he’ll forgive and forget. If he’s in the wrong he’ll apologize, if you’re in the wrong he won’t forget as easily without an apology, but he’ll forgive.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Yes, he’s very aware of what you’re doing for him. It’s not a given that someone as wonderful as you stays with him, even less so that you do what you do for him. He’s very grateful and will show such as well. Gives you chocolates and flowers, will take you on dates and outings, will do whatever he can to pay those favors back as well. He loves you and you should know that, so he will cling to you like a koala. Either that or he’ll help you with the chores when he’s not as tired anymore after deployment. Either way, you won’t be alone with doing the chores while he’s around.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

There’s plenty of things he doesn’t tell you, actually. Sure, there are some confidential missions he can’t tell you about, so there’s always that. However, he still does have some pride, so he won’t always tell you when he’s in pain either. He can take it like a man, no need to bother you with that sort of thing. He’s also pretty good at hiding his injuries and how much pain he’s in, if it isn’t too overwhelming. But other than that he’s a pretty honest guy and will tell you just about anything. You deserve to know everything about him, but likewise he expects you to be honest and open with him as well. A relationship can only truly prosper with communication.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

I think you would likely be able to help him with calming down a bit and finding a purpose in life that wasn’t being a soldier. He’s always been an active guy with a knack for chemistry and weaponry, so he wanted to put that knowledge to good use. However, ever since he’s gotten with you he realized that not everything needs to be about work or war. He can definitely appreciate the smaller things with you, like receiving a flower crown from you. You make his life more worthwhile and he finally has something to look forward to that isn’t just work. He has someone to come home to, and that’s worth a lot in his eyes.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

It depends on the person stealing your attention. If it’s, say, Ghost, then he doesn’t mind as much since he knows Ghost has no ill intentions with you. But if it’s some random person then he definitely gets jealous if you spend too much time with them. Starts brooding and getting closer to you, wrapping an arm around you, maybe even kissing your cheek while he’s at it. If it was appropriate, he would growl at the person as well, trying to get them to go away. You’re his and no one else’s. Doesn’t apologize for his behavior either, if he’s jealous then he’s jealous, and that’s that. You’re more than welcome to act the same way with him as well, by the way.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He’s not too bad at kissing. Soap has had a few high school sweethearts, so he’s definitely kissed before and takes it easy. He wasn’t particularly stressed out about your first kiss together either and just let it happen. Although he was being cheesy and asked you to close his eyes before he kissed you. It was a gentle kiss since he wasn’t too sure if you truly liked him the way he likes you and he didn’t want to make you too uncomfortable. But when you told him you felt the same way he quickly gave you another kiss.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

I don’t think he’d make too much of a fuss about it. He’d take you to a nice park on a nice day, maybe have a picnic with you and then casually ask you if you wanted to be a thing together. It’s not too bad if you say no, even if he’d be crushed, but he could just play it off and continue the picnic and be friends with you. Would love to watch the clouds go by while lying on the blanket with you. That’s also when he might confess to you.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Yes, he definitely wants to get married. He wants nothing more than to have a spouse to come home to. With you wearing an apron, asking him if he wants dinner, a bath or you first. It’s cliched, but he’d melt if you ever called him honey. I think he’d think his proposal through, though. It’s important to him, but he still wants the day to be fun, so he might take you to an amusement park and propose to you on the ferris wheel, sincerely hoping it stops while you’re on top and can view the entire city. The marriage would be sweet, he’d be even more doting on you. Would proudly introduce you as his spouse. 

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Although they’d start out as a joke where he would mimic those embarrassingly sweet couples calling each other embarrassingly sweet things, he’d eventually take a liking to things such as pumpkin, pudding, or cutie pie. Naturally, there’s also things like babe and baby. If he can reference a stupid meme, he will. You’re also his silly little rabbit, no matter how much you dislike that nickname.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s somewhat obvious to others. Soap is much more inclined to gravitate towards you and try to spend as much time with you as possible. He likely also won’t leave you alone unless you ask him to. He becomes much more chatty with you and brags about his accomplishments as well. Might even flex for you, even if it’s cringe. You need to realize how strong and awesome he is. Also does you a lot of favors, you don’t need to repay him. See? Isn’t he just the ideal guy? Isn’t he just so dateable?

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

If it was up to him either one of you would be holding the other at any point in time. He’s not afraid to show the world you’re a thing, he will brag about you to everyone willing to listen. Even if he’s being called embarrassing, he’ll just keep on going. The world needs to know just how lovely you are, that you’re the best partner anyone could have ever asked for. Kisses you in public, hugs you in public, cuddles you in public. If you’re comfortable with it.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s a very observant guy, so he’ll almost always know what’s up just by watching you for a bit. You’re happy? You’re sad? You’re mad? Don’t worry, he can pretty accurately gauge your emotional well-being just by watching you for a bit. Does what he needs to do to either cheer you up or keep you happy afterwards.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s somewhere in the middle. While he may not be the most romantic person out there, he does dream of kissing you under the moonlight and dance with you then and there as well. When it comes to making you happy he’d do just about anything. You want a cat? You want some cuddles? You want him to kill that guy for you? Just ask for it, you’ll receive whatever you want, you’re his partner and therefore very important to him. He tries to get a bit more creative with what he gifts you and actively searches for things online. But usually he just settles for showing you Scotland. His country is important to him as well, so he hopes you can appreciate it as much as he appreciates you. He means well, he’s just very easily excited about it.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Oh, definitely. It doesn’t matter what your goal may be, he’ll do what he can to help you achieve it. You wanna work out? He’ll go to the gym with you. You wanna get better mentally? He’s there, cheering you on every step of the way. You wanna be independent? He has connections, you’ll get your dream job and dream pay, don’t even worry about it. As long as you let him help you, he will. And even if you refuse his help he will somehow weasel himself in anyway and help you out, even if you won’t ever know about it.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Although repetition can be a nice thing, he does prefer having something new every once in a while. Sometimes he wants to see another country with you, sometimes he wants to try new foods with you, sometimes he just wants to watch a new movie with you. It doesn’t always need to be the most exciting thing with you, even the small things suffice, but he needs something new. The same routine every time bores him to death and annoys him as well. Again, something small will suffice for some time, but then it’s definitely time for a vacation away from it all.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He likes to think he knows you quite well by now. He can remember things very well too, so if you ever mention a fun fact about yourself, chances are he’ll remember it forever. If you ever want something, no matter how small it is, Soap will remember and you’ll get it eventually. He’s also an empathetic person. He sees you and feels what you’re feeling, at least to some degree. Probably not with the same intensity that you do, but he tries to understand you. 

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

His relationship with you is very important to him, as important as his friendship with Ghost, Gaz and Price. The four of you are the most important people in his life, along with his family, and he’d do anything to keep you safe and happy. He does hope that you can get along with the other three as well, though.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Has probably tried to serenade you before. His voice is by no means bad, but it’s his accent that makes you giggle. He does lay it on extra thick as well when singing I’m Gonna Be just to hear you laugh a bit. He mostly just sings to you to hear your giggles and see you smile, but he does like singing and whistling to himself when he’s alone.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Yes. Soap loves nothing more than holding you close whenever he can, especially if you haven’t seen each other in months. When he’s tired you can be certain he’ll be all over you the entire time until he falls asleep. And even then he has an iron grip on you so you won’t escape him. He’s a human furnace as well, so while it may be pleasant in winter, it’s hell in summer. But that’s the worst part about him, he doesn’t mind being sweaty as long as he gets to cuddle you. He’s used to being sweaty anyway, he can just shower it off, but he needs to hold you or else he’ll combust.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Whenever he can, he’ll text or call you. He knows it’s not always the time for such a thing, but he’ll do it anyway. Sometimes, he’ll call you just to hear your voice and fall asleep to it. He imagines himself doing all the domestic things to you he can’t do in the moment, it helps him fall asleep when his heart is aching for you yet again. Sometimes, when he’s just on base and not necessarily being deployed, he’ll steal a plushie from you and take it with him, cuddling it in your stead at night. It does help him sleep better.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Soap would literally kill and die for you. He has this sense of camaraderie to him, and that extends to you as well. He’d fight for you, he’d take a severe hit for you. Anything to make sure you’re alright . Soap is loyal to a fault, so even just someone looking at you the wrong way warrants a fight, in his eyes. You’d need to remind him that none of this is necessary, that you’ll be alright and then he’ll calm down. But don’t you ever think that this man won’t blow up entire buildings just to watch you smile. He’ll make his own explosives as well, if he needs to.

[gin-juice-tonic]

I’m glad my stuff can be helpful! It can be hard to picture how something might help you if you dont, yknow, see it reflected in people in the world around you. I encourage you to seek out some real trans masc people who look like you too if you can. Luckily these days there are a lot of people open about their identities you may be able to turn to. (Or even cis men! People say they have gender envy over random cis guys all the time. You’re allowed to feel that way about people who look like you do.)

But also I want to say, even if something wont make you completely 100% happier, that doesnt mean you shouldnt take a chance on it. Even 5% happier is still happier. And if theres someone worth taking a chance on, “yourself” is pretty high up there, if you know that I mean. If its something you want to try, then the point of doing it is... because you want to try it. And I think thats a good reason.

Im glad you can see yourself in stan and see opportunities for yourself through him! Also im glad you are accepting yourself more and more. I hope the trend continues and that you have a good day

[en-chi-la-da]

FINALLY!! i finished both versions of the six-character fanart challenge!! i did a tumblr version AND a twitter version, thank you very much to those of you who left suggestions!! this is my last post for 2022, have a happy new year!! :) ✌🏼

[fragmentedblade]

Can you expand more on Ratio's philosophical influences? You seem super knowledgeable!

I've been sitting on this for some time because I didn't know what prompted this message and thus I didn't know what to answer and how. I guess it may be the comment I wrote about him having a socratic but also a sophist air?

There are a lot of details in Ratio's overall design that point towards philosophical references. I want to draw attention to the fact that since this is a vague message on anon I don't really know what to focus on or what could I skip because it's information already known, so what I'm going to say is a very brief summary of many ideas, which of course makes such ideas but the shadow of an echo of themselves, so faint they almost become untrue. I fervently advise to look more deeply into any of this if something catches anyone's interest. And I also want to point out that the problem of knowing a little bit of something, even its existence, is that seeing turns to seeking, and an excess of seeing is also a blindness; what I mean by this is that I'm not sure how much of what I am going to say was intentional by the developers/writers and how much is just me suffering the blindness of seeing too much haha

However, I also want to clarify that I do think many of the things I’m going to say are present even if perhaps not intended by the writers/designers. This is due to the fact that Ratio’s main influence is platonism, and platonism is everywhere in western philosophy and in general western culture; once you see it you cannot unsee it. So perhaps I am reading too much or making correlations between things in his design that were not meant to be linked, giving a depth to the character that is probably incidental, but that I would say nonetheless exists because it pertains to a certain philosophical tradition in which the elements stem from each other. I hope this will become clearer in its development if it isn’t right now. 

Ratio has an Apollonian air. At first that and his mask made me wonder if he was going to be linked to the Mourning Actors, who alongside the Masked Fools for now remind me a lot of the Nietzschean Apollonian and Dyonisian dichotomy. This was conjecture on my side so I won't go on about this on this ask.

Ratio retains however the Apollo air. When I saw his splash art he reminded me instantly of the Belvedere Apollo, down to the strap under his chest like the sculpture has the quiver's strap. His sixth eidolon too recalls that sculpture, since it seems to be a mix of the pose in Michelangelo's David with the cloth in the Belvedere Apollo. Among other things, Apollo is a god linked to truth, medicine, archery and divination. The owl seems to be a reference to Athena, though. 

Ratio also has the laurel or bay branch on his head, which is one of Apollo's traits. Laurel on someone's head became linked to victory as well as academic and artistic merit (I know in Italy people still use it when graduating, for instance; I mean, that's where the word comes from). The fact that he has half of it is most likely due to an aesthetic choice, especially given how the character designs are pointedly asymmetric in this game; however, I think it works well with how, no matter how much he achieves and how hard he tries, Ratio is never gazed upon by Nous nor accepted by the Genius Society with the frustration, bitterness and questioning that brings both himself and others.

This last point, being ignored by something akin to a divinity, works also with his Apollonian air, I'd say. Given his Apollo look, his snake-like pupils made me think instantly of Delphi. Delphi was where a temple to Apollo was (linked to a mythological snake, and snakes thus became associated with Apollo in imagery), and it was famous for its prophecies. Socrates (the master of Plato and main figure in his dialogues) is said to have started the habit of questioning he is mostly famous for because a friend of his went to the temple in Delphi and was told by the Oracle that the wisest man in Athens was Socrates. Socrates was perplexed by this because he knew nothing, and started posing questions to supposedly erudite people about the matters about which they were experts, only to come out of that feeling unsatisfied with the answers. Thus, Socrates thought the Oracle may be right after all, but he was only the wisest man because he at least knew that he knew nothing. 

This works very well with Ratio because Socrates starts the journey by being distinguished among his peers, gazed upon, by a god (Apollo was supposed to possess the Pythia, or at the very least the prophetic power came from him), while Ratio never gets that recognition, and seems resigned to that already ("If this day I have not gained the recognition of Nous, it stands to reason that I never will at any point in the future" and "One day, I received a letter from the Interastral Peace Corporation (...). I could tell the solemnity of the invitation, so I excitedly passed it on to Mr. Ratio. Yet, he said nothing. I could sense his heavy silence even through the headgear. He then politely asked me to leave. The moment I closed the door, I heard a grim sigh followed by a self-deprecating laughter... Perhaps he realized he would never be accepted into the Genius Society..."). The mix of arrogance and humbleness, although enhanced in Ratio in a comical degree, is already somewhat present I would argue in the way Socrates talks in Plato's dialogues. Arrogance was also a trait Heraclitus, the author of the line cited in the name of his banner (“Panta rhei”), was famous to have.

So Ratio takes the position at the IPC. The Intelligentsia Guild is "often seen as a vendor of knowledge", and is looked down upon by the Genius Society. This is where I think the philosopher/sophist dichotomy comes in. Sophists were teachers, and were paid. They also were known to use rhetoric to convince (I would say there's a reference to this in one of Ratio's daily messages). In the political landscape of Athens, they were very useful for young men interested in politics. Some sophists became quite rich and famous. Usually philosophers, who didn't receive any money and did everything for the "love of knowledge" itself, looked down on them. At least in the texts of Plato that's often the case, although some sophists are portrayed under a better light even there; btw many of the things I've been saying come from Plato, but since this is an intricate subject on its own that isn’t directly pertinent to the ask I won't dwell on it right now.

Education in ancient Greece consisted of both intellectual and physical training. Intellectual education included music, poetry, mathematics, astronomy,... Physical fitness was held as something very important in a young man's curriculum as well. I think this is where the fanservicey choice of making Ratio so fit and pretty comes from. And I say “pretty” because beauty too is an important concept for Plato, and ancient Greece in general. It is also part of what linked the need of a young man to develop himself both intellectually and physically. Beauty is linked to harmony and order, both on an individual basis and cosmologically, often in some philosophical trends to a mathematical level; pythagoreanism has a lot of this.

Indeed I think pythagoreanism has to do somewhat with Ratio's design, considering his link to mathematics and geometry, and given his name ("Ratio" made me think of the golden ratio and in general pythagorean ratios even before it made me think of "reason" tbh), but in general the main philosophical reference in Ratio seems to be Plato, who was influenced greatly by pythagoreanism; this is one of the perhaps unintended indirect yet present links I mentioned at the beginning.

Platonism is very present in many ways in Ratio. It's noticeable even in his visual design, with how buff and handsome he is, arguably the references to Apollo and Athena, the geometry imagery, and even the sculptures he creates with his technique, but the influence is seen throughout his entire character, story, dialogue lines,... Part IV of Ratio’s character story, the way he talks with Roseth and what he says, has in my opinion an echo of platonic dialogues, as does his line “To spread knowledge, we must first make people realize their folly” recall Socrates. In the Trailblaze mission the main character had to argue for their innocence, which to me brought to mind the Apology of Socrates. On the other hand, the way this was done was very reminiscent of the socratic method, both in the discussion and counterargument mechanic of the game as, and especially so, in the use of memory. The main character had already the knowledge they seeked, yet they had forgotten about it, and had to retrieve it through memory guided by the intense questioning of Ratio; this, if applied to the research of a more essential knowledge instead of circumstantial, is the core of Socrates' maieutics. Maieutics is "midwifery". Socrates called by that word his method because he thought he was helping give birth to truths or knowledge that were already present in people's minds, if forgotten. It's what Ratio's skill, "intellectual midwifery", references. 

The fact that Socrates' method, the "intellectual midwifery" to put it in in HSR terms, works in platonic philosophy is because it is taken that there are eternal truths, something Ratio believes as well (“The beauty of truth is that it never changes, even when no one understands it. Well, that's true for me, at least”). This has to do with what is called the theory of Forms or the theory of Ideas. The world that we see is but the shadow of that other conceptual abstract world, of which we have but forgotten memories and that we can access only with the mind's eye. Our soul once saw/was part of that other world, which is why it can remember it. Plato was influenced by the pythagorean view of a sort of journey or reincarnation of the soul after dying, to put it some way. This is also extensive, it has to do with orphism, is at the core of a lot of philosophical and theological western traditions, and thus I will say only this, even though it feels very close-to-fake simplistic haha. To summarise, there’s the other abstract perfect world of which everything in this world participates from and is but the shadow of (everything beautiful participates on the Idea of Beauty, eternal and inextinguishable, but it’s never as perfect as that Idea, only but its echo). The idea that the world is but the shadow of the other world is present in Ratio's English line when he is ko-ed, "Mere flesh…" (in Chinese, though, if I’ve understood correctly he says “«Mediocre»… hah”, which is very different if still lore-heavy). This of course implies a strong ontological dualism. 

In this sense it is extremely interesting to me that Ratio’s banner is named “Panta rhei”, because Heraclitus is the epitome of the defender that all things were in constant change yet all things are One, the process of “becoming”, the constant struggle, at the core itself of reality (this too is harmony). He was pointedly monist, and is often contrasted to Parmenides, who spoke of eternal unchanging truths and beings. Both are cornerstones in the development of western philosophy and influenced Plato, but the choice calls my attention. In the Japanese wiki the line was linked/took to the buddhist concept of impermanence; while not necessarily related to that, this wiki suggestion made me wonder whether the choice of making “Panta rhei” the name of Ratio’s banner was done to further enhance another aspect of the many parallels between him and Ruan Mei, who also talks about life as something seemingly diverse and changing, hopes to obtain permanence, and talks about a something that transcends the multiple faces of life and that unifies them all (“Life is countless and varied in form. I firmly believe in that. Its beauty is like a myriad of flowers, and I want to pluck the one that never wilts”; “I wish to discover "the true essence of life," something that all individuals possess unknowingly, whether it is the materialism of their existence or an unknown entity beyond corporeal realms”; “The core of all existence is unity”). Even beyond that, in the context of everything else Ratio has going on, the mention of Heraclitus brings very intriguing food for thought to the table; yet I think this may be another instance of things that are, yet were most likely not meant by the writers.

Moving on, I’ll give a quick comment on the more explicit philosophical references we can find in Ratio’s traces, attacks and voicelines, and will dwell a bit only when I think they work well with the subjects and concepts I already commented Ratio plays with, otherwise this response will be eternal.

Summation (trace): in Chinese this is more clearly linked to the inductive reasoning, which in context it is obvious this is what this trace references; I don’t know why they chose to translate it this way. It is a method of reasoning that comes from the observation of particularities to generalisation, hence “summation”. It works well with Ratio causing more damage per debuff, and with the references to empiricism in Ratio’s attacks. The consequences in inductive reasoning are not truly ensured by the premises (the typical example is how you can’t ensure that all ravens are black by as many black ravens as you observe). 

Inference (trace): this baffled me because again it is more clear in Chinese that this is referencing deductive reasoning, but every language translates “inference”, whereas in the “deduction” trace the characters are exactly the same as the ones in the Chinese wiki for “inference”, but every language translates “deduction”. I don’t know what’s happening here, I wish I knew Chinese and found this less confusing, but at least both words are present in his traces. Deductive reasoning is the one that goes from premises to conclusion. It is heavily linked to logic and it doesn’t necessarily require empiric knowledge.

Deduction (trace): this is what is called “inference” apparently in Chinese (if someone knows about this I would love to know what is happening in Chinese in these two traces). Inferences are, well, the process of reaching conclusions. It can be either through deduction or induction (or abduction, some would argue, but that’s another can of worms).

Mind is might (basic attack): in latin this is “scientia potentia est”, and while at this point the line is very detached from its context, initially it was linked to Bacon and Hobbes. I honestly think this is just a very convenient name for an attack of a character following a philosophy/sciences/knowledge thematic.

Intellectual midwifery (skill): Socrates, and platonism. I talked about this before.

Syllogistic paradox (ultimate): Syllogistic paradoxes were one of my favourite things when I was studying. Syllogisms are a form of logic reasoning, which consist of two premises and one conclusion. Though the premises may be true, and though the reasoning may be sensible, at times contradictory or illogical conclusions may be reached. This is a syllogistic paradox. Why this happens is because of a myriad of reasons, like the differences between natural and logical language, or the development of theories (the paradoxes in set theory are among my favourite things ever). I personally like to draw a strong distinction between paradoxes and contradictions. Anyway, I have a lot to say about this haha In general, this is what the name of the ultimate is referencing. It works well with Ratio’s traces. It also goes well with some of the other subjects present in his characterisation, like platonism, Descartes and such; there are a lot of paradoxes that arise from many of the theories that play with such topics. I think reading Alice in Wonderland’s apparent madness through the lenses of logic makes us see that most of those incongruences are actually pretty logical; many of them iirc are syllogistic paradoxes. Carroll was a logician. I mention this because this, as well as many other ideas present in Ratio, work extremely well with Penacony.

Cogito, ergo sum (talent): this is a line by Descartes, a rationalist. This too is something that fits Penacony incredibly well. Descartes starts doubting knowledge, ends up questioning pretty much everything, establishes inspired by mathematics and logic a method of acquiring the truth, and in the research of true knowledge he starts doubting everything with a methodical doubt to be able to tell what knowledge stands after being hit by doubt, and why, and try to reconstruct knowledge from there. Ratio’s lines about “seeking answers with a negative hypothesis in mind”, “When one is immersed in academic research, scepticism comes more naturally than belief” or “Pursuit tinged with negativity is still pursuit, and it is capable of leading us to the right conclusion” reminded me of Descartes’ method. One of the steps in the process is doubting one’s own existence, but since I (pardon the “I”, but the first person is very important in Descartes) doubt, then I think, and since I think, then I exist; cogito, ergo sum. This is closely related to platonism in some senses, and while Descartes’ philosophy comes in part from a criticism of scholasticism, it still has ties to it, but Descartes was a massive breakthrough in the history of Philosophy. I also won't dwell on this, but this is fascinating imo haha 

Anyway, Descartes’ doubt about the existence of reality, of the world, is heavily linked to dreams, because in dreams we believe things are real but are not, so equally we could be at every moment in a dream and not be aware of that; only the existence of oneself is clear of this doubt (Zhuangzi’s text about the butterfly plays with this too; I comment this because butterflies have appeared in Penacony and the Zhuangzi’s text seems to play in an interesting way with the concept of “I”, taking it a different route than Descartes, which is a very intriguing idea but I don’t know much of Chinese philosophy at all). The concept of simulated realities, Matrix-like settings and such, all are strongly linked to this conception of Descartes, even though similar things existed previously (such as Plato’s allegory of the cave), and this works very well with Penacony again. Obviously, Descartes’ theory is strongly dualist, and it’s even established a body-mind dualism. The idea of the ghost in the shell also comes in great part from Descartes. Descartes’ view of the body was not too unlike that of a machine. 

This was in a time in which clockwork and automatons were quickly advancing and fascinating people. Physic theories started to look (even more) like clockwork, with the universe as clockwork and god as a watchmaker that put it into place and then let it run its perfect course, needing or not (depending on the theory) adjustments from the watchmaker from time to time. I said before that harmony was linked to both the cosmos and the body, with the body in part being a reflection of the cosmos, and even linked to it by the harmony of the spheres. This new way of approaching the cosmological and human issues and developing Physics still has echoes of that. Newton, who is referenced in one of Ratio’s idle animations, is one of the epitomes of this concept of the universe as clockwork. Again, I don’t know how much they’ll do with these ideas nor even if they were written on purpose, but it all works so well with Penacony it would be a pity if they did nothing with this.

Another thing I want to note about Descartes is that besides mentally detaching himself from everything while doubting in his deconstruction and construction of knowledge, seeking undoubtable truths, he famously did so physically as well for some time when he first started thinking about the matters in his Discourse on the Method one night: “having no diverting company and fortunately also no cares or emotional turmoil to trouble me”, while he “spent the whole day shut up in a small room heated by a stove, in which I could converse with my own thoughts at leisure”. This reminded me a lot of Ratio’s head and how he uses it: “with the headpiece on, isolated from my five senses, i can think without interference”, “he put on a headgear to keep away all external distractions and completely focus on thinking? Who else in the world could manage that?”.

Mold of idolatry (technique): this links mainly again to the theory of Forms of Plato, with that representation of something else that is what is real. The name of the technique and what it does works well also with the idea of idolatry, especially of idolatry of false gods, idols or even falsehood in general, and how Ratio criticises people’s blind infatuation with geniuses. It also reminds me of Nietzsche’s Twilight of the Idols, or, How to Philosophise with a Hammer. Among other things, Nietzsche heavily criticises platonism and platonic philosophy, and mostly all western philosophers (he has kind words for Heraclitus, for instance). 

Wiseman’s folly (ultimate’s effect): the idea that knowledge or beholding the truth brings to something similar to madness or ends up leading to foolishness is a very common one. Many of the Ancient Greece philosophers were said to have been extravagant. Diogenes the Cynic and Heraclitus were two such examples. Democritus was said to have plucked out his own eyes. Empedocles is said to have killed himself in a volcano. There’s Nietzsche, Georg Cantor, Kurt Gödel. It is the idea of the wise ending up being very much like the fool, but also the idea of the wise ending up losing sight of basic truths I believe, in that alienation from the world.

Know thyself (eidolon): this is what was inscribed in the temple of Apollo in Delphi I spoke of before. This is linked to Heraclitus, Socrates, Plato and platonism, of course. I think when it comes to Ratio that’s it, really. But this maxime has had a lot of implications and interpretations in different contexts and at different times. It could be seen as just a salutation, recommending temperance, the idea of knowing oneself and one’s limitations as key to succeed when approaching subjects or problems, the first step of getting to know anything at all, humans and the world being closely linked and even reflection of god so studying one helps studying the other, etc.

Vincit Omnia Veritas (eidolon): the translator says this means “eternal truth” in Chinese, which would play way better with the philosophical ideas and concepts present in Ratio while still playing with his name, “Veritas”. I won’t dwell on this because I’ve already talked about the link between eternal truths and Ratio a lot, and besides I can’t even confirm this is the true meaning because I don’t know Chinese.

Eidolon “The divine is in the details” seems to be a reference to a Chinese idiom that comes from a book. I don’t know if it has greater significance, but if anyone knows I am all ears. The other eidolons obviously work with Ratio, but I don’t see obvious philosophical influences so I’m skipping them.

Esse est percipi (ultimate line): “To be is to be perceived”. This is a line by Berkeley and linked to his philosophy. He criticises both dualism and materialism. The core idea is that the world’s existence is entirely dependent on the mind, that things don’t exist unless they are perceived and thought. His justification for one’s own existence seems to come from this perception, as Descartes’ came from thinking: “I do nevertheless know that I, who am a spirit or thinking substance, exist as certainly as I know my ideas exist”. Parmenides has a similar idea in his poem. I don’t think this was intended to be read too much into when it comes to Ratio, but I think it fits nicely with the other topics he has going on, and the dichotomy they often entail. It also works well with Ratio’s plaster head, with how he says “I don't have to set eyes on stupid people. Of course, they don't want to see me either”, with how he uses it to go unnoticed or unrecognised in both Herta’s Space Station and Penacony, and I think it could be overread or taken to more exaggerated levels in a juicy manner reading this under the notion of nothingness, mediocrity and being disregarded by Nous. 

One of the listed researched achievements of Ratio is in the field of epistemology. Epistemology is the field that studies knowledge. Although studied in particular at times, it is of course often linked to ontological conceptions; all the philosophical theories I’ve stated carry with them epistemological implications as well as ontological. In one of Ratio’s character stories there’s a mention to epistemic logic which is, speaking broadly, a logical approach to the analysis of knowledge. 

Another one of his listed achievements is in natural theology, which is the study of god through reason and logic instead of things such as transcendental experiences or revelations. This is very common in philosophy in general. It often has to do as well with the world as a harmonious whole, god as watchmaker/the universe as clockwork, and teleology. I will mention Newton and Darwin here because Newton is referenced in Ratio’s idle animation, and Darwin because he broke up with the teleological tradition when it came to the world. Ratio’s work is named Aeons: A Natural Phenomenon, and the title and its description, how its “Aeon non-theism”, makes it seem to me like he wrote of Aeons as if they were just another form of life or something that pertains to nature itself and not detached from it, which although very different from Darwin’s ideas did remind me of how he dismissed teleology in nature. This also clearly links, in my opinion, to Ruan Mei.

Other than that I also want to note Ratio’s final speech to Screwllum about inspiring doubt and scepticism when it comes to established ideas and geniuses. It reminded me of Socrates, how he was said to have “perverted” youth inspiring all that questioning among other things. It reminded me of Nietzsche, how he fervently encouraged individuals to use critical thinking, question dogmas and preconceived ideas they could have, and come up with their own conclusions that does not mean necessarily negating absolutely everything they held true before the questioning (this exchange between Screwllum and Ratio: “Screwllum:  «You wish to uproot the researchers' blind worship of geniuses».  Dr. Ratio: «I am only laying out my questions».”). It also pointedly reminded me of Kant's “Sapere aude!”, “Dare to know!”,  and his text What Is Enlightenment?, in which among other things Kant talks about the lack of courage, not of intellect, of people to think for themselves, how humanity lives in a constant immaturity or adolescence of the mind, and urges them to get out of that state, to dare to know. Kant was greatly influenced by rationalism but said to have awaken from the rationalist slumber thanks to empiricism; the plays on rationalism and empiricism, deduction and induction, and the presence of idealism in the rest of Ratio’s writing as well as this fervent push for people to snap out of their lack of criticism and dare to think for themselves are what made me think of Kant here.

There’s more things to talk about Ratio, like his view on mediocrity and geniuses, and how that view is constructed and described in traces through fragments in his lore, the character stories, snippets of conversations; how he seems to be so similar in character and drive to geniuses, but never accepted as one, and how he is regarded as very different and eccentric by “normal” people, even in the Guild. In short, how he is detached from both the “normal” people and geniuses, like suspended between both states without being either completely, and how it makes so much sense in this context that he tries to breach the rift between both. I couldn’t help but mention this, to avoid forgetting this aspect of his characterisation in the future, but I won’t dwell on this because it isn’t really directly linked to any philosophical influence that I can think of.

I think this is it. Hopefully I didn’t forget anything important. And I’m sorry it is so long, but I really tried to summarise. As I said, I may well be reading too much into some of these things, but I also think that since Ratio plays with many of the core authors and concepts in the history of western philosophy, some things I expect were not intended by the writers still are present somewhat, because mentioning this or that thing alongside this or that other thing ends up having implications if you know a bit of the context. 

I hope this was clear enough. However, I can try to explain myself better or further if I wasn’t. Philosophy may look unapproachable and dry at times at first, but it really isn't, it just needs one to get accustomed to some basic terminology, and it becomes fascinating and beautiful, and lifechanging haha. I would love it if Ratio is making people get a little bit more invested or interested in it, or open to explore it. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy is a good place to check the main ideas, texts and authors that may spike someone’s interest if anyone wants to read further about anything I've said or compare sources, but tbh I think even Wikipedia can be useful with getting a first feel of some basic ideas to know what to look for.  And although I am not an authority or the most trustworthy source at all, I will help as best as I can if someone reading this has any further question. I recommend reading the texts firsthand though, with historical context in mind and footnotes perhaps if possible, and making one's own mind about everything.

[catliker49]

Hello again!! Very busy.. 2 weeks until I'm back to Normal! I am progressing on my animation slowly but steadily :o) And then we will back in business and I get to focus on Welcome Home again!! YAY!!!!!!! Ooh speaking of.. my pins came! And I am wearing them on my funny eyeball cardigan, hoohoo...

[oatbugs]

Jack Marsh (2005), Friendship Otherwise - Toward a Levinasian Description of Personal Friendship

[surreal-duck]

You should draw even more midoyuzu actually trust me i'm a doctor

more midoyuzu but you didnt say what kind. transgender lesbian beams your idols

[mesothulass]

Summary

Ramón nodded. They teleported back to the shitshack. Ramón immediately went inside, dropping his armor with an eerily familiar exhaustion. Fit lingered on the balcony, surveying the landscape. It wasn’t Philza’s wall and Bobby’s City inching closer and the distant clamor of the Tubchunk, but it wasn’t bad. A nice, quiet place for his still-growing son. His eyes caught on a flash of blue amongst the oranges and browns and greens. A smile rose unbidden to his face. “We’ve got company, Ramón,” Fit called into the house as he took the ladder. His left arm burned as he climbed down. He shoved away the pain, walking out to the gate to wait for his Brazilian boyfriend to arrive. -- title from Serenade in a Drugstore by John Ciardi

my gift for @factorialsotherfandoms for the @qsmp-secretvalentine !!! thanks for waiting, i hope you enjoy!!! happy late valentines 💜💜💜