#New All Caste au

[andi-dromeda]

Tara: oh you're made of clay too?

Diana: Well not made of, more like made from- WHAT THE FUCK

Tara, twisting her face to look exactly like Diana's: :D

Grant, curled up in a corner: Do you ever feel like you're not made to be loved, like you can never give or receive love because you're just not capable?

Clark, loved even by the people who hate him, has never met someone he couldn't charm: I know love exists because I exist I'm full of it

Grant: Kill yourself I'm not joking

Bruce, disgusted: Don't you feel guilt for anything you've done? How do you live with the blood on your hands?

Jason, not looking up from the Ancient Tome he's annotating with glitter gel pen: The dog that feels guilt for the blood on its teeth is no cleaner than the dog who doesn't, your guilt will not purify you, you are not absolved by your self hatred. Also I'm always right, get good.

Bruce, genuinely twitching:...

- AutisticRoseWilson (The sillies!)

^^^^^^^^^^^

[autisticrosewilson]

First of all, you have given me so much to work with, thank you so much. Second of all, I’m really glad you could see where I was going with Grant’s real test not actually being about killing Slade. Third of all, I absolutely love what you’ve suggested with the powers and I am currently designing met gala esque outfits for the trio and Tara’s specifically is really fun to play around with. I’ve been thinking to show they’re becoming more divine I’ll change their hair and eye colours but not their faces for the most part. I was drawing robin Jason with Natalia and decided he should have brown eyes and a crooked nose from breaking it as a kid but once he returns his eyes get weird (eg go blue and occasionally other colours), a patch of his hair went white and he lost all of his scars. Also, I think the closer they get to divinity I’m gonna draw cracks on their body that glow with their specific colours just to hammer home how they’re shedding their mortal forms.

With Tara being able to see the strings of fate, I though it’d be fun to give her a harp and then with Jason having the see no evil trait I thought it’d be fun to give him weighing scales since lady justice wears a blindfold. Idk what to give Grant though. I mean probably a weapon of some sort or maybe a Shepard’s crook that he can turn into a scythe to play into the sheep, wolf, Hunter thing.

With Jason and Tara’s splintering, I love the idea of them making fun of Grant for being the baby god. He hasn’t even had a cult yet, gosh he’s so young. Also them being besties just holds a special place in my heart.

And I just came up with this, of course they have parallels to the trinity but in universe rumours of their existence have been around much longer than Bruce, Clark and Diana. They’re the big three of the justice league but these guys are justice gods. So they start calling themselves the justice trinity but then people get confused about which trinity is which because the justice leagues’ trinity sounds awfully close to the justice gods’ trinity. The new all caste is certainly more distinctive branding but the point isn’t to be distinctive, it’s to be petty.

I'm so glad my unmedicated rambling helped!!! And I'm so excited for the outfits!!! I love when characters start becoming less and less human, when they're stuck in that uncanny valley spot of not quite human but not entirely Other, when they lose control and the cracks start to show...um I should probably give a warning for slight body horror elements. Not in the gore sense, in the "this body is not made of flesh and there is something divine clawing it's way out". Uh also there are teeth. Just. Teeth. I dipped into a little bit of cosmic horror at the end there because I wanted to cover my bases with mixed mythologies

Jason, with his defined splinters, is usually depicted with three faces in ancient texts. The Child, gaunt and dark colored, is said to appear before the downtrodden and impoverished. The few stories remaining tell of kindly people who give him an offering, and in exchange he reveals his true form, with his crown of golden ivy and beautiful strong wings to gift them bounties of food and water and riches. Other stories tell of not so kind encounters, where The Child witnesses an injustice - typically against women or children - and again reveals his true form, one with clawed hands and a mouth dripping with blood. Scholars argue what the wings looked like, but whichever All-Caste member annotated it before has compared their likeness to either a Robin or a Shrike.

There's also The Ghost, He appears young at first glance, but his hair is wirey and gray, his eyes milky and unseeing, in bloodied armor he greets the souls of the damned as they're delivered to him, and with scarred hands he wipes the tears of children taken too soon. Accounts of this face are few and far between, but all of them are entrenched in sorrow.

Finally there is The Soldier, scarred and still smoking from the ruins of battle he emerges, giving voice to the weak and resources to the needy. He champions revolutionaries and philosophers first, a strategist who delights in the liberation of the people from corrupt systems. Accounts of him usually come from times of famine and war, and he was particularly popular with poor villages, who would mark the graves of their dead with the symbol of his sword as offerings. For some reason or other, he got particularly popular with the youth, girls and boys both seemed to pray for him and leave him offerings.

The way these manifest on Jason is subtle at first. I could go the body horror route, but I won't. Yet. Instead I think his splinters show up as reflections, shadows, imprints. The faint echo of bell-like laughter when Jason does a move he learned as Robin, the image of a younger him with longer hair and unblinking eyes staring at him in the mirror. It gets worse when he gets the blades, the white streaks his hair, the swirling mark covers more of his skin every time he uses them, he trails the scent of smoke and blood behind him like a signature. His scars...they should disappear. They have for everyone else who used the pit, but instead his skin starts cracking. Any place he's ever been scarred glowing cracks break up his skin. He can't feel them, but he's always aware of them, the meaning behind them, the divinity literally leaking through his body. His eyes aren't brown anymore. They aren't even green. He looks in the mirror and they are copper, molten and burning. He tries his best to keep his mask on.

What do you think of when you imagine the word divinity? Probably something like Tara. Something with skin carved from stone, with moss and fungus crawling up her legs and snow laden shoulders. They say her hair is made of swirling clouds and the sun and moon are her eyes.

Some say she's a nymph although no one knows what kind. You're just as likely to see her name among the naiads as the dryads. Whether flowers bloom where she dances or waves crash when she sings, she's known to be more vicious towards suitors than her sisters.

Others have said she's a faerie, who takes the faces of lost daughters and lovers, slipping into their places seamlessly, forcing unruly men to pay their dues. Others say she's a shifter of a different sort, with a shawl of feathers and a crown of twine and gems. Stories range from men trying to steal her coat (and paying dearly) to lost children returned safely home on the back of a swan.

Tara doesn't think about it at first, the way gravity tends to cede to her, she doesn't notice how sunflowers turn their faces towards her instead of the sun. She doesn't notice the way her face...shifts. it's imperceptible really, and it's not like she looks in the mirror all that often. But everyone around her notices it, on some level, the way her expressions are off. A little too exaggerated. The way her limbs bend just a little too oddly. The way she never looks quite the same as she did the day before, the way she picks up features from the people around her the way she picks up rocks from ground to add to her collection. Clay molded subtly into the image of those she loves, a museum of everyone she's ever met. She does notice when her hair starts going white at the ends, the strange way her hair starts to curl unnaturally, almost floating. She's not so upset about her eyes, the deep blue of her father that has glared down at her day after day, she has changed her hair, her face, her language but she could not change her eyes. It seems she didn't have to, when she wakes up with one a little too silver to be gray and one a little too gold to be brown. And then her skin starts splitting, a cavern made from a broken rib and ravines made by the slashing of knives. She doesn't even bleed anymore, they never scab over. They crystallize, amber like ambrosia, like ichor. Her body a geode waiting to be cracked open to let the thing within finally break free.

They know the least about Grant, whatever he used to be. Half written scrolls, torn or burnt or simply stopped abruptly, illegible journal entries with symbols never recorded in any known language, half finished sketches where the details are never quite clear. A few things are usually consistent though, signs that he's been there, usually from hunters down on their luck or the particularly old and sickly. First, the howling. Like a wolf or a storm, although later accounts would add that it occasionally sounds like a mechanical whirring. Then the rabbits, dead and gutted, but not a trace of blood. Piles of them left in heaps on doorsteps or windowsills. Some have reported knocking at strange hours or finding teeth in their homes, a mix of human and animal. There is one photo on record, the most recent thing in the archive most likely, of claw marks on the side of a barn, too big and oddly serrated, certainly not from anything native to the area. Elderly that report these phenomena typically pass from heart problems within the week, according to some of the old medical files.

Grant came back wrong. Physically, at least. He knows that he's still himself for the most part, dying didn't make him a selfish asshole he did that all on his own, but...but something is wrong with him. It's the way lightbulbs flicker when he's mad and how cameras, no matter the quality, never quite get a clear shot of him. The way Joey can't ever grasp his features, not fully, the details slipping from his mind like water. The way eyes on his face slide right past, unable to look directly at him. It's in the gray spreading from his roots and his eyes too wide and dark to belong to something human. It's the way death clings to him like a second skin, sickly and pallid turning the tips of his fingers gray. His teeth are starting to feel too sharp for his mouth, and he hears things no one else does, whispers of voices that Are Not and Can't Be. The worst part is the orange, liquid candlelight under his skin, lighting up all of his veins and scars, webbing together like the world's worst game of connect the dots. No, there is no mistaking him for something human, so there is no reason to try. If this is his fate then he will take it, because he is not a sheep and he will not be a wolf, he is a hunter, and he is hungry.

[sadlynotthevoid]

I'm not sure if I told you guys about the time I dreamed that 20ish Jason Todd died yet again and Death was pissed off because "really? Again? Wtf Batman. The universe doesn't keep reviving your son just so you can see how much he lasts!" And "He has a work to do you know?!". Besides, she's fond of the bright young soul.

So, she calls her uncle to help him. And what you know? Her uncle is the God of Death (because yes, my brain is like that sometimes). They sit to talk and come up with a solution.

First, taking advantage of the effects still present of the last time-space crisis and the spirits protecting the soul, they regress the time of this universe to when Jay had just left All Caste, way before he had came back to Gotham.

Then, Death places Red Hood!Jason's memories on the soul of his younger self. Not too harsh to force his soul to crack, but not too light to let them fall. Just deep enough so he finds them when he meditates.

And by last, God of Death tells the spirits where they should guide the boy to. The perfect place for him.

Where is the best place for a soul who craves for home and safety? Of course, that's with someone who has the heart to care and accept a new loved one and the determination to protect them.

That's how Jason Todd, teenage assassin in an existential crisis, ends up waking up in the softest bed he has ever been in some foreign country. At his side there's a redhead teen sitting in a sofa, a book in his hands and other boy— this one with black hair and pajamas— lying on his lap.

The redhead— Cale, as he presents himself— is mysterious but kind hearted guy. He also knows things. So much so that if he weren't as he is, Jason would suspect. As things are, he knows he's just used to collect information. A bit like a bat, but not quite. A bat would plan how to use it against the possible enemy. Cale? Well, he doesn't even bother to hide what he realized about him. He's also ridiculously casual about it.

Who offers an assassin if they want their hidden weapons back? This guy, apparently.

Jason only knows he's not totally unconscious because at one point an old guy entered with tea and pastries for the three and Cale, the little shit, choose that moment to reassure Jason.

"Don't worry. My butler is an assassin too and we don't treat him different for it."

The old geezer almost let got the porcelain teapot to the floor. Though, points for him for recovering so fast.

"Young master? May this Ron know who you would be talking about?"

"Hm? Who do you think? Hans? The only thing he can kill is Rok Soo's humor. It's you, obviously."

"..."

Rok Soo, the sleeping beauty complex guy pretending to be asleep on Cale's lap, was sweating badly. If everyone in the room weren't already aware he was clearly pretending, someone may had thought he was ill.

Later on, he realizes there was a reason Cale had said that at that moment.

He's looking at the butler subtly terrorize the boys to behave, treating the siblings like two particularly mischievous puppies. Then he turns around and uses the same tune to advise him to be careful with his wounds. And that's when he thinks 'Oh. He doesn't see me as a menace'.

Of course he doesn't. His employer just confirmed he's aware of his identity— at least partially— and his own nature. The biggest advantage of an assassin is their secrecy. After their identity is exposed, the only reason they won't attack is if the assassin believes the risk is worthy. Telling the assassin he knows he's an assassin was his way to show Jason's own intentions: none.

Jason didn't intend to end up in that field where these teens find him. He didn't intend to be brought in their vacation house. He definitely didn't plan that the people to found him passed out would be whoever these rich guys were.

But he didn't have anything against all of this either.

Well, maybe the wound. He could make it without the blood loose and the soon-to-be scar to add to his collection.

Either way, at least he had a safe place to stay and think. Just think. Because, the memories he saw— what is he supposed to do now that he has his answer?

His da— Bruce. Bruce didn't care for him as much as Jason does for Bruce. Bruce obviously didn't love him as he thought. And certainly, Bruce was way more willingly to harm him than he believed.

And Jason— well, Jason couldn't waste a second life on a man who didn't put hin even at the same level than the Joker of all people. But maybe his expectatives were too high? He hadn't planned what to do if his life was meaningless to him.

So, Jason needed time. Time to ponder and heal. Those things are better done in a safe place.

That's what Jason has in mind when Cale offers him to stay with them.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Jack au where he's a psychic who can commune with ghosts. Almost every major character from Supernatural is a ghost. Including Sam Dean and Cas. This would serve these major tennants of his relationships:

Isolated. The people Jack spends the majority of his time with are NOT part of the normal world. Sam, Dean, Cas and Mary live in a bunker and don't know how to be people. The AU hunters are literally from another world. His mom is dead. Kaia is split between realms. The only Real people he knows well are his young adult nerd friends and arguably Harper. You don't want 1/4 of your tie to reality to be a witch who wants to be Cheryl Blossom from Riverdale as her life's aspiration. That's no way to live!

Intangible. Because of Jack's immense power, he is, in a sense, untouchable. He is stopped when people hug him or push him or shoot him because he chooses to stop. There is a veil between him and them. There is also a scarcity of common ground. There is nothing else out there like him. Dean might stomp and bark and howl but, ultimately, what can he do to Jack physically? Nothing. The only power the ghosts have is emotional and social. Imagine being outcasted by the ghosts who can only see you and each other. Ouch!

Fleeting. Everyone he cares for is doomed to die. This happens even before he's born with Cas and Kelly and Mary, but also throughout his life. He both has long strings of tragedy in short periods AND he's immortal and worries about it. Loss and loniness are inevitable for him on a massive scale. Cas might claim that he'll be there with him but he dies like twice a year at least. Picture ghost!Cas midway through a reassuring speech that he's always going to be there with him fading out into the veil mid-sentence.

Guilt-ridden. Life is wasted on the living, isn't it? Youth is wasted on the young. He's got dozens of ghosts needing him to live in the way they want him to so they can feel alive again, and he's not capable of being that (literal) lifeline. He needs to learn how to say no and stick to it. He needs to learn how to live with the fact that he has to disappoint people to live well sometimes. He has to engage with the living, because the dead are going to kill him if he hangs on to them too long.

So if someone could write this devestating yet beautiful 25k+ fic for me that'd be really swell.

[myimaginationplain]

AU where Katara & Toph both set up premier waterbending & earthbending academies in Republic City; the two schools are dedicated to teaching holistic, unified forms of their respective elements, bringing together previously disparate styles. Katara's school teaches Southern style, Northern style, & Foggy Swamp style waterbending, without any gender-based segregation between self-defense or healing classes (no, bloodbending wouldn't be taught because Katara don't like that shit). Toph's school teaches her personal seismic style of earthbending, metalbending, & more classical forms of earthbending. Katara's academy is on the coast of Yue Bay, in sight of both Aang's memorial statue & Air Temple Island; Toph's academy is far inland, to the east.

Rather than Toph, Suki is the one who establishes a police/security force. Suki's police academy could have a special program with Toph's, so you'd still get those cool metalbending officers. But the school prioritizes non-bending combat first & foremost. Ty Lee's chi-blocking technique is taught there as a required course.

[karamell-sweetz]

fairy rui. *hands this to you and walks away ominously*

[cern1cal0]

P.E. funtimes

[eggs-can-draw]

Oh, you’re the Ultimate Hope, right?

[rubiatinctorum]

I often like to imagine my characters talking together. It entertains me, such as when I'd imagine characters guessing what the price of a grocery order would be when I worked as a cashier.

ME: Okay everyone, what does it look like this one will be?

A PROFESSOR: (shrugging) $277.60

HIS ASSISTANT (planned for a book I never did write; the extent of his existence was confined, then, to their grocery games): I think it's going to be closer to $163.45

(I scan the groceries. The grocery total comes to $250.09.)

ASSISTANT: You win this round again.

PROFESSOR: I suppose I'm not half bad at this.

But after years, last night I stumbled upon a new scenario while trying to fall asleep. I was testing new pillows, which did not happen to be comfortable compared to my usual ones.

In this scenario, each of the protagonists of their respective books were sitting at a table having a meeting. The protagonist of the upcoming book, let's call her 9 (because she's in the 9th book) was being welcomed into the committee as the new discussion leader, a role she would take over from 8, who had served her time for nearly three years. (In return, 7 gave 8 the task of keeping the minutes for the meetings, which I think 8 preferred a lot more).

(9 takes the highest seat at the table, and asks what concerns the other protagonists, responsible for managing their respective book casts, have brought this week)

1: (presenting a slideshow) S and Z are fighting in public. It's going to ruin our reputation. What should I do?

(the slideshow changes to a new slide, depicting a crashing stocks graph in a big red arrow line.)

9: Now taking suggestions on behalf of 1's inquiry.

3: (Raises his hand)

9: Yes?

3: Let them duke it out. One of them will eventually win, then the fighting will stop.

9: No.

6: I second that motion.

4: Conflict of interest.

9: What?

(Whispers of 'oh bless her heart' and 'she really is new here' flow across the table)

7: 6 is 3's daughter.

2: Then why are either of them answering? 3 is, after all, 1's grandson.

(9 looks at 3, then at 1, confused at how the youngest member of the committee even has a grandson.)

9: Any other suggestions?

2: How bad is it? You might have to shut down operations for a while.

1: Shutting down operations is not an option. Only you could do that more than once, 2.

5: Ride it out until the problem blows over?

8: Have you tried talking to them?

1: -_- what do you think.

9: Just keep them to themselves for a while. I'll see what I can do about the (gestures at the stocks graph). Anything else?

(1 returns to her seat. 8 rises.)

8: [Supporting cast member vampire] keeps biting people.

2: (Recalling when she shared a story with him pre-novel era and experienced his bites firsthand) Oh, he would.

[giddlygoat]

my brother can make me laugh without moving at all. he can make me laugh on command, just by existing, and there is no physical tell or indication that it is about to happen. it’s like he can will me to laugh and i will. of course we’re not telepathic, but we do speak in unison sometimes. we improvise like no one’s business. we could fool anyone into believing we are psychically linked. when i try to explain it, i sound silly saying it out loud, but i really CAN tell what he’s thinking. we exchange so much information just with a look. he can make me cry laughing and he doesn’t even have to move

[akkivee]

i rewatched this the other day and i still respect the hell out of the mtc seiyuu for outright saying they were questioning wtf nelke was doing by recasting the stage lmao

[andi-dromeda]

I’m obsessed with Jaygrant so ofc I had to ship them here too. In this au they start off as kind of colleagues. Grant sees this as a gig where he just has to humour whatever mediation, magic stuff Jason’s got going on and collect a pay check. Jason sees Grant as an assassin he can turn into a monk. I’d say Jason probably starts out training Grant and Tara the way he’s used to being trained, brutally and bossily. He gives orders but quickly realises it isn’t working because Tara and Grant both aren’t listening to him, Tara keeps threatening to go home and Grant keeps saying he needs a pay raise every time Jason tells him to do something. Luckily, Jason’s adaptable and begins to treat them more like equals who just need the right approach to become all caste members. He realises Tara likes to learn more about the culture and practices of the all caste instead of the fighting (not that she’s not interested in the combat, it’s just that all the experiments and clubs have left her with a bad opinion of most types of training). Grant is far more interested in the fighting, loves hearing about the All Castes victories over the untitled and after hearing about Jason killing the devourer of young souls Grant can’t help but gain some respect for the guy. Grant and Tara still like to provoke each other so Jason tries to mostly train them one on one giving both of them a lot of free time. Jason and Tara begin to bond over random recipes their mothers taught them and stories about living on the streets. Jason and Grant start to bond over weapons and fighting.

Then they discover they’re all gods and their souls weren’t just similar in that they all died. From here the group dynamic starts to shift. They see each other as more interconnected now. Before this they all chose to be here. Sure Jason would bite his tongue more than he normally would because he couldn’t find anyone else with a soul similar to his but he still felt like he was mostly in control of the situation. Now they knew this was all some grand destiny. Everything that had come before was simply preparing them for ascension. Jason and Tara are both bothered by the idea of losing their humanity but Grant isn’t. For Jason and Tara they want to right the wrongs that were done to them but now that means they’d lose their humanity and become gods. Grant on the other hand doesn’t care about his humanity and the wrongs he has to right are with his parents who he has literally been in hiding for a year at this point because of. This causes a fracture in the group. Tara decides to visit the Wilson’s for a bit and think about her options but Grant is eagerly pursuing godhood. Grant sees figuring out how to kill Slade as his only obstacle and is frankly ecstatic. Jason decides to keep an eye on Grant and they go on Grant’s very own murder world tour.

During their trip, Jason starts to see a lot of himself in Grant. Especially because he’s been where Grant is now. I mean they’re literally travelling across the world trying to find the best way to kill Grant’s mysterious dad who he won’t even say the name of. One night they have to crash in a random motel (which Grant forces him to pay for) and oh no, only one bed! Jason doesn’t care that much after having to share a bed with Kyle and Donna for ages when Kyle actively wanted him dead. Grant maybe flirts a little (not in a romance way though) but Jason shuts him down. Unfortunately, neither of them can sleep so end up talking about their dads. Jason mentions B and his birth dad Willis (I’m team Willis was a good screw the retcons so at least Jason had one good dad). Grant mentions how his dad was always going on mysterious trips and when he was around he was abandoning his son in the woods or taking the sink or swim teaching style to literally everything. It’s the most vulnerable either of them have been in a long time but since they can barely see each other in the dark and since they don’t even know each other’s last names or aliases there’s an almost anonymity. They feel safer to open up to each other than anyone else. This is when I imagine they’d start tentatively considering each other friends.

Then during their globe trotting adventure Jason comes across some scientists developing a weapon to kill Deathstroke. He decides to try steal the weapon and stop the research in case it gets used against Rose so he tells Grant about his plan to steal it. Then Grant is suddenly very interested. He asks a lot of questions like: “who’s Rose?” “How many kids does he even have!?” “Rose is Ravager!?” “He gave you his approval? Like for free?” “He sent you a postcard for Christmas!?” Grant has a million thoughts swirling through his head so when they go on the mission, Jason tries to get Grant to hang back. Grant doesn’t listen, rushes in and to save Grant from his own idiocy, Jason takes a bullet for Grant. Everything’s on fire, explosions are going off and Grant then has to choose in the heat of the moment to either stop the weapon from getting crushed (Jason already destroyed all the research so it can’t be replicated) or save Jason from getting crushed. Jason would normally be able to push through the blood loss but everything’s feeling a tad bit too familiar so he’s a bit occupied at the moment. And Grant makes his choice before he even has the time to consider it. As soon as he heard Jason’s cries he forgot all about the weapon. Grant saves Jason from the collapsing lab (that for thematic purposes was hidden in a warehouse) and without even thinking about it chose Jason over ascension and revenge two of the most important things to him.

When Jason manages to cool down after everything, he states more than asks Grant is Slade’s son. Grant says “biologically, yes unfortunately. But from what you’ve described he sounds like he’s much more fatherly to you than he ever was to me.”

“Then why did you chose me? You could’ve saved the weapon, killed Slade and become a god. Why… me?” A long uncomfortable silence hung between them. Jason’s barely dried eyes shimmered in the dim hotel room. He looked confused. Why? If he could get even a heartless bastard like Slade to like him how could he ever be surprised that someone cared about him?

“I didn’t chose you. I didn’t chose at all. I just did it. You know?”

And that was the moment Jason fell for Grant. Because he’d replayed the night with Joker and Bruce in his head a thousand times. He’d purposefully put Bruce through hell before the confrontation. Then bludhaven blew up. Then the rest was a blur and the only thing that felt solid was the sharp pain against his neck. The slow trickle dropping down his throat as he lay under the rubble. He went over the night again and again and tried to excuse the batarang. Bruce was stressed, he wasn’t thinking and of course he was never going to choose Jason. Bruce always thinks he can find a better option. Of course he’d try to have his cake and eat it too. Bruce was simply too used to getting what he wanted. (Maybe that’s why Jason didn’t tell Bruce he’d killed him. Because if Bruce knew that Jason would just keep coming back, then he wouldn’t even have to pretend he saw a Jason as anything more than canon fodder. Anything more than a good soldier.)

But Grant picked him. Grant didn’t even think about it. Grant owed him nothing. At most Jason was a convenient pay check and occasional confidant. Yet Grant chose Jason over the thing he valued most. When Jason started to choke up again, Grant didn’t say anything. He just opened his arms and held Jason until the morning. They didn’t speak about it but actions always speak louder. Grant for the first time since they’d met payed for their breakfast. He surprises Jason with tickets to some play Jason had mentioned liking during a sparring match a while back. He takes Jason out for a night on the town with Jade and only slightly makes fun of him for never going to a club unless he owned it.

Where Jason fell all at once and then decided to not do anything about it (he’s not shy he just can’t risk losing such a promising new member!), Grant fell slower. Granted, he didn’t notice. Due to internalised homophobia and a healthy does of Slade’s special home made brand of toxic masculinity, Grant has a weird perception of relationships. He kind of sees having a wife and kids as just boxes you have to tick off at some point distantly in the future and that romance didn’t last long. He hoped it did when he was younger. As a kid he’d dream about finding a partner and both being so devoutly in love he’d never have to guess if he was good enough. But none of his girlfriends could ever fix him (not for a lack of trying), he couldn’t force things to be better and so he came to the conclusion that love was just a fleeting infatuation. When he heard Jade’s troubles with Roy, his perspective was only further cemented.

So when he starts falling for Jason he doesn’t realise what he’s feeling. He thinks Jason’s hot and makes no attempt to hide that doesn’t think much of it. Grant was okay with being attracted to guys so long as it was purely physical. If it was just lust than it was just about pleasure. No need to further inspect anything he might be feeling. He’s just a completely hetero guy with functioning eyes. I mean come on, can you blame him for noticing Jason’s thighs? But then one random day Grant was eating something Jason had cooked (because Grant would burn the house down if he so much as glanced at a blender) and realised he wanted to do this everyday. He wanted to wake up to Jason in one of his safe houses that only had one bed so he didn’t have to think about it. He wanted Jason to make breakfast and it’d be delicious as always. Then they’d clean their weapons and talk about random cape drama and fight over whatever thing Grant chose that morning (because there was nothing more entertaining than giving Jason such stupid arguments that Jason couldn’t even respond and then saying the silence was just proof he was right). He wanted to be by Jason’s side on the field, on the matts, on that one cruise that was secretly smuggling rare beanie babies, on the dance floor when they were both too drunk to care about making absolute fools of themselves, on the roof of the van they stole from Penguin’s Metropolis branch and even on the bathroom floor heaving his guts into the toilet whist Jason smugly said “I told you so” and Grant was in too much pain from the vomiting and hangover to come up with a witty retort. The revelation shocked him and he called Jade for an emergency evacuation. She “saved” him, punched him for worrying her, took him out for coffee and told him to get himself together.

So now they both like each other so what could possibly go wrong now? :D

Tara comes back and invites them to meet her family. They do and suddenly Grant and Tara hate each other even more than usual and now they have to deal with the Wilson family issues. :0

Also imagine Rose’s perspective. Your ex boyfriend comes to your family dinner with you dead brother (who you never met and took the legacy title of) hates you and your other sister who apparently has been having philosophical debates with these guys says they’re all gods and your brother has to kill your dad to ascend so now you have to just try to eat your food whilst everyone flips out and you see your ex making heart eyes at the dead brother.

[autisticrosewilson]

I've been working on a rough concept for an au where Jason decides to try make a new all caste to keep the culture alive and have someone other than just him who can fight the untitled. He goes to find people with souls like his and ends up trying to make Terra and Grant pure hearted (because they all died) but to the all blade's standards. Anyways, I was trying to make sure they all had different hair and eye colours so decided to take rebirth's brunette Grant. I colourpicked the opposite of the red I was using for Jason's outfit and got a teal-ish blue for his eyes. I decided to make Terra have grey eyes for rocks and bc there's too many blue eyed characters in DC. Which leads me to my point which is I made Grant have brown eyes. What do you think of Grant having brown eyes? 👀

Firstly I'm obsessed with this concept, thank you for sharing and if you ever write anything for it I would love to be tagged or even DM'd! This seems like exactly the kind of thing I obsess over!

Typically I'm a fan of blue eyed Grant to match Slade where Joey has green eyes to match Addie, I also like the idea that he dyes his hair brown to look less like Slade. Grant as a character who reminds Slade the most of who he used to be - especially in contrast with Rose who mirrors what he looks like now, and Joey who's a reflection of who he could have been - is something I really like portraying in my writing.

Having said that I always appreciate brown eyed characters, and I could totally see him with brown eyes! Ironically I headcanon that Tara has brown eyes, y'know as a reference to the earth powers lmao. To be fair I'm also a brown eyed Jason truther, but I think the pit gives him partial heterochromia because it's visually interesting.

I also think Grant having brown eyes is interesting because then you could draw parallels to Rose - who I also know has brown eyes. It would be fun narratively for Grant to be kind of a botched reflection of Slade, with the serum turning his eyes a filmy blue - which often happens to brown eyes when someone is dying as they lose pigmentation. Grant who looks the most like Slade on his deathbed is something I hadn't even considered!

Also really fun if the trait comes from Slade's side of the family, maybe his mother's side. Fun little reminders of his past he can never escape from<3 (especially if he got the blue eyes, against all odds, from his father, the envy he must feel that Grant gets to bear so little resemblance).

[cyncerity]

I am becoming a utter bitch for Jackmanifold so I was curious if he is in your Epic au and if so tell me about him

Hi hi hi!! I know this ask was sent like a year ago but uh in case you’re still curious, he’s basically Tommy’s nanny! Phil got tired of Tommy running off so he’s been hiring people to try and keep an eye on him (keyword: try)

Anyway Jack is my comfort streamer so I always want to include him in stuff, so I wanted to write a short little thing to show his dynamic with Tommy and Niki. This “short little thing” turned into a full story and character designs because I have no self control! Hope you enjoy!!

(btw anyone who can pick out the song quote in here and tell me what it’s from gets a cookie)

“Hold on, get back here!” Jack yelled running after the young prince, who stopped his sprint down a hallway to turn and look back at Jack with a disapproving stare. Jack stopped and took a few deep breaths from exhaustion before continuing through pants. “I promised his majesty that I wouldn’t let you out of my sight, and I intend to keep that promise. The last thing I want is the fuckin king mad at me…again.” Tommy simply rolled his eyes, hands on his hips as he took a few steps towards the older leafmen. “Ooo King Philza this, King Philza that,” Tommy said in a mocking tone. “Let’s be honest with ourselves here Jack, if Phil hasn’t fired you yet he’s not gonna. The last guy got kicked after losing me like 4 times and you’re already way past that. The only reason you still have a job is cause you’ve got connections in high places.” “Is not!” “Is too!”

“God you’re so immature,” Jack said, having finally fully caught his breath. “Maybe if you could actually be responsible and not fuckin disappear every day then the king wouldn’t need to assign you a-“ “Babysitter. You’re a babysitter.” Tommy cut him off, only angering Jack further. “You’re such a fucking child! Why can’t we have one normal conversation about you disappearing under my watch, it’s like you want me to get exiled or something!” “Oh my dad’s not gonna exile you,” Tommy responds nonchalantly, “Niki likes you too much for that.” “There are only so many times you can lose the crown prince before his dad will get fed up. Niki isn’t more powerful than the fucking king, Tommy.” “No, but she’s one of his best soldiers, which means her and her happiness is important to him, and for some unexplainable reason you’re part of that happiness. Phil isn’t gonna risk losing his General cause he dismissed her best friend like he dismissed the rest of the fucks he hired to watch me.”

That made Jack pause. He knows Phil; they’ve had plenty of talks personally (well, personally with Schlatt in the room too, as if Jack would ever pull something with the ruler of the whole goddamn forest). In all the talks he’s had with Phil, he’d never guess that anyone’s personal happiness was important to him. The kingdom’s happiness? Sure, of course, that was his fucking job, after all. But, personally? Jack just always assumed that Phil was kind of a cold guy. To hear that he valued Niki’s happiness personally, even for his own gain, was…an odd thought. “Phil cares about Niki?” Jack asked, though he wasn’t quite sure why. Tommy seemed just as confused, before shrugging it off. “Yeah, ‘course he does. She and Schlatt are, yknow, his friends.” That genuinely shocked Jack. “There’s something in that guy to befriend??” He questioned, though as soon as the words came out of his mouth he regretted it. Tommy’s face wore absolute shock, and Jack quickly slapped a hand over his mouth as they both stared at each other in silence.

“I- I’m so-“ Jack’s poor attempt at an apology was cut off by roaring laughter from Tommy, the teen bent over to his knees wheezing as Jack stood terrified. He’d almost forgot that he was in the presence of the second most powerful person in the forest, magically and politically. That the boy in front of him was just as capable of exiling him to The Bogs as King Philza was. And, just as a bonus, Tommy never let Jack doubt the fact that he didn’t fucking like him. And now he’s just gone and insulted the king and gave his son a free pass to get rid of him for good. Oh fuck.

But, to his shock, when Tommy righted himself his face was absolutely beaming. He wiped a tear from his eye as he slapped a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Ok, I take it back, maybe I can see why Niki likes you, just a little bit though.” “S-so you’re not…gonna tell Phil..?” Jack asked, his fear only slightly relieved. When Tommy’s face morphed from humored to smug, though, that fear was immediately back. “Well, I think that can be arranged…for a price.” “Price?” “Yeah, let’s put it like this; you let me go right now and don’t make me tell you where i’m fuckin going, and I don’t report you for lèse-majesté.” Tommy stuck out a hand, and Jack shook it before he could even fully fathom what he was agreeing to. “Deal, a hundred times deal, your dad would fucking kill me.” Tommy just laughed. “Good man. Well, i’ll see you later then, Jack! Good luck with Schlatt when he comes to ask where I am!!” Tommy chuckled as he began to walk away.

“Wait, your majesty!” Jack shouted, and Tommy turned, seemingly slightly annoyed that Jack was still trying to talk to him when he so clearly wanted to fuck off to wherever he went to when he disappeared for hours. Jack knew he had to be careful with this; he’d just made Tommy like him a little bit, he couldn’t lose that yet. “Just…when you get back, can we talk about this? A bit? I don’t care where you go, for fucks sake you can do magic, I know you can protect yourself, but can we like…work out when you leave or don’t? So your dad doesn’t absolutely fucking hate me? He may be a bitch but he’s still my boss.” Jack hoped that insulting Phil again (as horrified as it made him feel) would open Tommy’s mind to the idea since it had seemingly worked before, and given that Tommy seemed less annoyed, it apparently worked. “You mean…you’d cover for me? Without even knowing where I’m headed off to? You would lie to the king for me?” “I mean, sure, man, why the hell not. Right now I don’t know where you are and I get in trouble, I’d much rather not know where you are and not get in trouble. Plus, who’s gonna turn me in for lying, you? You’d be turning yourself in.”

Tommy stood in shock, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and that scared Jack. Shit, had he overstepped a boundary somewhere? Was Tommy angry that he would advocate a scheme against his dad? Did he just fuck himself over?? But Tommy, ever so full of surprises, just smiled at Jack. “We’ll see, let me think about it. I’ll let you know when I get back.” He said, and held a fist in front of him. Jack smiled unsurely and fistbumed him, making Tommy chuckle as he turned and continued down the hallway.

Oh Prime, what has he got himself into?

~~~

“So, Jack, where is my son?” King Philza said, sat at his desk in his chambers, and Jack could barely utter a word. Schlatt stood behind Phil on his right, face as stone cold and intimidating as ever. Niki, bless her heart for arguing to be in the room with him for this, stood behind Phil on his left, eyes pleading with Jack for him to think of something. But, truly, in the dozen or so times he’s had to do this because Tommy fucking sucked, he’s never had an excuse. He’d always just apologized and Phil had disappointedly sent him home for the night with the command that he’d better be able to do his job tomorrow. That he’d better know where Tommy was the next night. It never happened, he never did, and this “i’m not mad i’m just disappointed” routine with the fucking king had become a nightly routine. Jack was getting kind of sick of it.

“Jack?” Philza repeated, and Jack sighed. “Your majesty, I-“ The door was kicked in suddenly, scaring the shit out of Jack and no one else in the room (fuck the royals and the guards and their unnatural lack of fight or flight), the prince in question proudly standing in the doorway, panting and exhausted but excited looking. “Holy shit!” he shouted. “You were right Jack! This was a tough book to find!” Tommy chuckled only mildly unbelievably before chucking a book at Jack, who quickly caught on. “Ah, yes! I was just about to tell his highness your father that you were down in the library grabbing a book on…uh, gardening…yeah! Yeah, we…we gardened today.” Jack lied through his teeth. “Yeah, we were looking into where the best place for crops would be so the bugfolk have a good harvest this spring! Y’know, doin some charity work, spreading peace and kindness and all the shit you preach, yeah?” Tommy continued, waltzing up to the king’s desk and leaning on it. Jack had to keep himself from gasping, reminding himself that Tommy was the prince and therefore wouldn’t be harshly punished for showing such disrespect in a royal’s presence. He himself was a royal, after all, though that didn’t make his lax behavior any less unexpected in an area that Jack had come to know as strict and horrifyingly stressful.

“So you were…out gardening.” Philza repeated, seemingly not buying a word, and Jack felt his heart stop. Tommy, however, was unfazed. “Yeah!” Tommy exclaimed, ignoring his father’s skepticism in favor of pulling a map out of the book in Jack’s hand. The map was a hand-drawn top view of the forest, with doodles, circles, arrows, and written notes scribbled all around it. He proudly came around to Phil’s side and excitedly began rambling about every little thing on the map. If Jack didn’t know that Tommy was his son, he’d assume that Phil was on the verge of exiling him based on his face alone. He seemed…more than annoyed, he seemed straight up miserable sitting and listening to Tommy talk. Yeesh, maybe this was why he had to hire someone to be around him. It seemed like an overreaction to listening to his kids talk about plants, he looked like he wanted to die right then and there.

“-so I think the best place for the sugar cane would be this spot where there aren’t any trees so it gets super hot, and it’s close to the lake but not too close so the soil doesn’t get waterlogged, which means the dirt will be ideal fo-“ “Stop!!” Philza shouted, slamming his hands on his desk and startling everyone in the room, even his guards. He dropped his head into his hands and sighed, fully missing the reaction of everyone in the room. Schlatt’s eyes were wide and Niki looked panic. Tommy looked…scared. Well, scared for all of .2 seconds before his expression shifted to something smug. Phil looked up at him with pity and Tommy’s reaction quickly changed into innocent confusion, slipping a mask back on to continue his act.

“Just…just stop. Listen, Tommy, I’m glad you think you’re helping. I am. But we can’t involve ourselves in the bugfolk’s problems. Their crops provide absolutely nothing to us, it’s a waste to fix what they need to be fixing amongst themselves.” Jack saw Tommy’s mask crack a bit. “But they’re like us, dad, they’re our people! This winter has been rough for them and they need all the help they can ge-“ “No, Tommy.” Phil interrupted, eyes turning hard, any and all pity gone. “They may be our people, but they’re not like us. They will never be like us. They’re in our land, and we allow them to be, with all of the benefits that come from living here. That’s all we owe them, nothing more, nothing less. End of conversation.” Tommy’s facial expression was blank, though if looks could kill, Jack was sure that Tommy would have needed a coronation by the next morning. He was pissed at Phil. A bubbling, festering anger that was sure to explode and cause permanent damage at some point in the near future.

However, it wouldn’t today.

Tommy, ever the actor, breathed out deeply to compose himself before rolling up his map. “‘Course, dad. Whatever is best for our p-…for the forest. You know best.” “You’ll learn, Tommy.” Philza said, reaching out to hold Tommy’s fists that curled around his map. “You’ll be a great king someday. A wise man once said: ‘the line between naivety and hopefulness is almost invisible.’ You just haven’t found the line yet, and I don’t expect you too at your age. In time you’ll learn just as I did exactly what needs to be done to keep the people you care about safe.” Tommy just stood, pointedly not answering. Philza sighed. “You are dismissed, Tommy. And Jack, good work today, keep this up. You are dismissed as well.” Tommy, deadpan as ever, walked back towards the entrance as Jack bowed in response. Well, tried to. Tommy yanked him by the shoulder and dragged him out of the room midway down, almost making him drop the gardening book.

As soon as they were far enough away from the chamber, Tommy dropped jacks arm and started screaming with clenched teeth, yanking on the petals on his head and kicking the nearest wall to him. Jack figured it was best to just…let him have his moment. “UUGGHHH, just, who does he think he is?! ‘oH Tommy they’re not liKe uS, they’re our people but they’re woRsE cause they’re not LeAveS’ it’s fucking ridiculous!! He barely knows anything about them, who is he to just decide that we just shouldn’t help with their crops?!” Tommy yelled, kicking another wall. “I- i don’t know, man.” Jack whispered, unsure if any of what Tommy said was rhetorical. Tommy looked over at him and just sighed.

“Sorry, it just drives me up a fucking wall. He thinks he’s the prime example of a fucking king and meanwhile he hates like half his citizens, and 3/4 of the forest as a whole, it’s fucking ridiculous.” Jack stood for a minute, eyes wide. What did he say? 3/4 would imply that he was upset that Phil hated…the enemy? “Well…he, uh, at the very least protects us from the boggins, but yeah…all that stuff about bugfolk, that wasn’t, uh, that wasn’t cool, man.” Now it was Tommy’s turn to be shocked, before he quickly tried and this time failed to put a mask back on. “Oh, yeah, ha! Whoops, sorry, I, uh, yeah, no fuck the boggins. Totally, yeah they suck. They’re, ha, yeah they’re horrifying, i’d hate to ever have to face one of them, thank god Phil keeps ‘em out!” Tommy rambled awkwardly, which led to a far more awkward moment of silence between Jack and Tommy after he finished.

“Look, man,” Jack finally broke the silence, “I appreciate you helping me out of that. I think Phil was really done with me that time.” “Well, I figured it was a good enough idea. Would benefit both of us, anyway. You wouldn’t get in trouble, my dad gets to think i’m doin’ shit, it’s foolproof.” “So, it’s official?” Jack said, offering a fist. Tommy laughed and fist bumped him back, a genuine smile on his face. “It’s official. We’ll work out the details tomorrow, though, I’m tired as shit. See ya, man.” Tommy said as he turned away, waving with one hand and holding a map in the other…

He was still holding a gardening book.

“Wait, Tom!” He didn’t know when he decided that it was ok to call the crown prince by a nickname, but given that Tommy didn’t correct him when he turned in response, he supposed the nickname was accepted. “You forgot your book.” He said, holding it out to a very relieved looking Tommy. “Shit, right, thank you! Can���t believe I almost forgot this.” He said, unrolling his map and placing it back in his book. “I gotta say, man, that’s a lot of effort to put into a map for a bit.” Jack said. “Where did you even get this gardening book? I’ve never seen it in the library.” “Oh, it’s not from the library, it was a gift from a friend. And the map wasn’t for the bit.” Tommy said gleefully, ignoring Jack’s shock for probably the fiftieth time that evening. “I wasn’t lying this time, that’s genuinely what I was out doing all day. I didn’t have time to think of a fake out story. But don’t expect me to tell you everything from now on, that’s just a thank you for helping me out. Night Jack!” Tommy said, waving and running down the hall towards his room, leaving Jack in confused shock. Jack huffed and shook his head as he started in the opposite direction towards the castle’s exit.

“Jack, wait up!” he heard a familiar voice call as his best friend caught up with him. “Hey Niki, don’t you have important General shit to do?” “C’mon, you’ve been a personal hand to the royal family for almost a month now, i’d say it’s important to make sure you’re escorted home safely.” She snickered, and Jack rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, as if the king would care if I got home safe.” “Well, he might start to if you make a habit of keeping track of the prince! It’s been a while since he’s even told us how his day was.” “Has it also been a while since his highness had a freak out like that or is that a regular thing?” Jack whispered. A pause, before Niki sighed and whispered back. “He’s stressed. I…I haven’t seen him get like that in a long while. Phil is my friend, I know him, I know how he is, and that isn’t him.”

Ok, so getting the confirmation that Phil and Niki’s relationship wasn’t strictly professional and was an actual friendship was unexpected, but that wasn’t the topic right now. “Was it Tommy? Does he really hate the idea of gardening that much? Does he just…not like being with Tommy? Is that why he needs me?” “No, not that, definitely not that.” Niki responded urgently. “He loves Tommy, I know he doesn’t show it well, but he does. I…I think it was more the topic. Not the gardening, more the idea of who it was for.” “The bugfolk? Why?” “Beats me, but Phil doesn’t ever really like to talk about them. If we’re trying to be more specific, though, something happened recently. More territory shit, some leafmen got hurt, we’ve been dealing with it so it doesn’t turn into an uprising. It’s been getting handled, but I think it was just bad timing, we haven’t told Tommy about that incident because it’s contained, so he wouldn’t have known that talking about helping the bugfolk would set Phil off.” “Prime, man, that’s…that’s rough. Not like it’s Tommy’s fault, though, felt kinda wrong for King Philza to snap at him of all people. Plus, some of that other shit he was saying was…how do I put this…..distasteful.”

Niki looked…uncomfortable, to say the least. “I know, and I agree with you,” she sighed, “but he’s my king. He’s my friend. He has his reasons to be like this and frankly? Our kingdom is thriving, so what’s the harm?” The harm is that he might hurt bugfolk like he’s hurt others, Jack thought. The harm is that he could exile an entire species out of the forest to a place of rot and death and savage beastly occupants and the worst part is that it wouldn’t even be the first time he did that. The harm is that he’s destroying his relationship with his kid and making said kid standoffish to anyone who attempts to befriend them. And oh, didn’t that just make so much sense? Maybe it wasn’t that Tommy was just brash and rude, could it…could it be self defense? Was he pushing people away on purpose? Now that he thought about it, he’d never actually seen Tommy talk to…anyone. Prime, did this kid have friends? He doubted it, if his general approach is the same one he used with Jack. He would have given up with the prince a long time ago if it weren’t for Niki and the fact that a royal job pays well.

“Jack?” Niki said, snapping him out of this thoughts. “Sorry, sorry Niki, I’m just…I’m just tired.” “I can only imagine,” Niki laughed, elbowing Jack in the arm, “you’ve got to be exhausted if you were out gardening with Tommy all day.” And oh, Jack hadn’t thought of this part: he’d have to continually lie to his best friend for this plan to work. Fuck his life. “Yeah, yeah, ha..takes a lot outta ya.” He laughed uncomfortably, though Niki didn’t seem to notice. “Well, you’re almost home and I’ve got to get reports in from the soldiers in my unit. I’ll talk to you later Jack! Good night!” She gave him a quick side hug before turning back towards the castle, leaving Jack alone in his thoughts.

Ok, so new notes for the day: the prince is…tolerant of him. Dare he say kind of likes him. He’s kind of still reeling from the realization that Tommy may just be acting out due to daddy issues and loneliness. The king likely knows they’re full of shit and just doesn’t care, Niki trusts him and he’s going to have to break that trust and lie to her because the prince is a secretive prick, and, oh yeah, the king might be a fucking bigot. Great.

Fuck.

[bonefall]

Please tell me you still have Fire permanently kill Darkstripe in BC though. That's one of the best parts.

WELL sorta. It's not going to be Firestar-- he's had enough badass cameos and someone else needs a turn.

I'm thinking it's Hawkfrost, actually

I want to turn him into a sort of... half-faded creature. Cheshire Cat of the Dark Forest. In the Great Battle he turned against Tigerstar and was mauled for it, but was able to get dragged back to the DF just in time.

But instead of respawning like the other DF spirits, when he double-died, it was partially permanent.

So he exists in this bizarre half-alive half-gone demon form, only existing for short periods of time. Enough to come save his apprentice Ivypool's daughter's mate, but not long enough to mount a resistance to the impostor.

And, importantly, enough to still enjoy the Dark Forest he had come to truly love, with its evil horses and blood-sap. A ghost among ghosts.

[gobstoppr]

and btw im in my hater arc rn. as time goes on the more i find a lot of 'fandom' stuff insufferable (i like art n stuff. just the way that fandom refits every media to fit a single mold and set of boring archetypes is exhausting.)

i just get really easily annoyed lately. and have been unfollowing people on a whim a lot. its not personal i promise