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tinydefector · 2 days ago

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Behind the Scenes 2

Tim Drake x Male reader

Masterlist

Word count: 6.1

Warnings: Tim being Tim in his slight stalkerish way for work.

Cut chapter three out otherwise this would have been over 11k words. So I'll edit that tomorrow at some point.

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The rhythmic tapping of Tim's fingers on the keyboard slowed as he stared at the email in front of him, his jaw tightening. It was yet another "gentle reminder" from the pharmaceutical marketing team about their meeting today. He hated these meetings—the endless pitches, the justifications for greed masquerading as "business strategy." Wayne Enterprises was supposed to stand for more than profit margins. That had been Bruce's vision, and it was one Tim was determined to uphold.

The sharp knock on his office door pulled him from his thoughts. He didn’t need to look at the clock to know who it was. “Come in,” Tim called, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temples. The door opened smoothly, revealing Lucius Fox. The older man stepped inside, his calm and collected demeanor instantly filling the room. He carried a leather-bound notebook in one hand and a tablet in the other, his expression a mixture of professionalism and mild concern.

“It’s time,” Lucius said simply, his deep voice cutting through the quiet hum of the office. Tim let out a low sigh, his hand dropping from his face as he sat up straighter. “Right. The pharmaceutical showdown.” There was a faint, bitter edge to his voice. Lucius raised an eyebrow at Tim's tone but didn’t comment immediately. Instead, he stepped further into the office, glancing briefly at the coffee cup on Tim's desk. “Triple shot?” he asked, his tone light but knowing.

Tim smirked faintly, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Had to. I need all the help I can get to sit through this one.” Lucius nodded, settling into the chair across from Tim. “I can’t say I blame you. The pharmaceutical team’s proposals have been... aggressive, to put it mildly. I assume you’re planning to shut them down again?”

Tim scoffed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. “Of course. There’s no way I’m letting them push a campaign to jack up prices on essential meds. Insulin, for crying out loud. Amoxicillin. Levothyroxine. These aren’t luxury items. People need them to survive.” His voice rose slightly, frustration slipping through his usually composed exterior, but it was something he was passionate about, not to mention something that affected, not nearly as much as others, but with one of those medications being one he used it was a subject he was very willing to fight over.

Lucius regarded him carefully, his expression thoughtful. “ You know they’re going to push back harder this time. They’ve already been courting some of the board members, trying to sway them to their side.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Tim muttered, his fingers drumming against the desk. “I’ve seen the emails. The ‘we’re only doing this for the good of the company’ spiel. As if gutting our reputation and alienating the people who rely on us is good for anyone.” Lucius sighed, adjusting his glasses. “It’s a delicate balance, Mr. Drake. The board still has to answer to shareholders. Some of them might see this as an opportunity to boost profits.”

Tim’s eyes darkened, and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “And that’s exactly why I’m going to shut this down. We’re not some faceless corporation that only cares about the bottom line. This is Wayne Enterprises. We’re supposed to do better.” A small smile tugged at the corner of Lucius’s mouth. “You sound like Bruce.”

Tim hesitated, then gave a small nod, the weight of Lucius’s words settling over him. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “That means a lot.” Lucius straightens his jacket. “Well, we’d better get to it. The board’s already gathered, and I’m sure Marketing is eager to make their case.” Tim rose, grabbing his tablet and the half-empty cup. He lingered for a moment, his fingers tightening around the tablet as if bracing himself. “Let’s do this.”

Together, they walked down the hallway toward the boardroom, their footsteps echoing against the polished floors. Tim’s mind raced, already preparing counterarguments and anticipating the tactics the pharmaceutical team would use, he knew it all already, as much as he wouldn't admit it to anyone, he had seen all the emails passed between different board members, and knew the words different executives would say. Bruce would say it was Paranoia to be this into it, stalking people's emails and ‘private’ work conversations, Tim on the other hand believed it was being thorough and Knowing his enemy.

When they reached the boardroom, the double doors loomed before them. Tim took a deep breath, his expression hardening into the calm, resolute mask he wore for these kinds of battles. Lucius gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before pushing the doors open. The room was filled with the murmur of voices, the long conference table surrounded by board members and executives. At the far end, the representatives from Marketing and Pharmaceuticals were already seated, their polished smiles and expensive suits doing little to disguise their predatory intent. They wanted to play predator. Tim would show them what happens when you think the hunter is prey.

As Tim stepped inside, the room quieted. All eyes turned to him, and for a brief moment, the weight of the company’s legacy seemed to rest squarely on his shoulders. But he didn’t falter. He squared his shoulders, walked to his seat at the head of the table, and set his tablet down with a quiet thud as he takes his seat elegantly.

“Good Morning,” he said, his voice steady and firm. “Let’s get started.”

The boardroom was tense, the air thick with the weight of the discussion about to take place, many picking up on the way Tim Drake’s presence seems to almost shift the air of the room, he wasn't trapped in here with them,they were trapped with Him. Tim sat at the head of the long conference table, His fingers drummed lightly against the polished wood, a steady rhythm that betrays nothing of his thoughts to them.

Around him, the board members murmured quietly, and the team from Marketing and Pharmaceuticals sat with their polished smiles, exuding the confidence of people who thought they were about to win. Lucius sat to Tim’s right, When the room finally settled and all eyes turned to him, Tim leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

“Alright,” he began, his voice steady but sharp. “What is your proposal? you pulled me away from my family for this meeting, I hope it is worth my time” he states plainly, his icy blue eyes focusing in on the head members, who squirm slightly under his gaze. One thing was for sure, Tim Drake may have been young but he held a Boardroom with more power than Bruce ever did, Bruce used charm to win over people's hearts, Tim used cold hard facts, logistics and blackmail when he felt it.

The head of Wayne Pharmaceuticals, a man named Eric Drayton, cleared his throat and stood. He adjusted his tie as he began to speak, his tone practiced and smooth. “Thank you, Mr. Drake-Wayne. As you know, over the last quarter, we’ve seen a significant rise in production costs, particularly in the pharmaceutical division. After careful analysis, our team believes that a modest increase in the pricing of certain medications—such as insulin, amoxicillin, and levothyroxine—would allow us to maintain profitability while continuing to deliver high-quality products.”

Tim’s jaw tightened, but he stayed silent, letting Drayton continue. “The marketing department has already prepared a campaign to frame this adjustment in a way that emphasizes the value and innovation Wayne Pharmaceuticals brings to the market. We believe that this will not only bolster shareholder confidence but also ensure we remain competitive in the global pharmaceutical industry.”

Tim leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable but he doesn't blink and it's clear he's unsettling a few attendees. When Drayton finally sat down, clearly pleased with himself, Tim let the silence hang in the air for a moment. Then, he leaned forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

“Let me make sure I understand your proposal,” Tim began, his tone calm but the ice in it cuts. “Your big idea to ‘maintain profitability’ is to price-gouge people for life-saving medication. You want to charge more for insulin, amoxycillin, and levothyroxine—medications that people literally depend on to stay alive. Is that correct?”

Drayton shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his polished confidence faltering under Tim’s sharp gaze. “Well, it’s not ‘price-gouging,’ Mr. Drake-Wayne. It’s—”

“It’s exactly price-gouging,” Tim says, cutting him off. “Let me give you an example. In Australia, insulin packs cost $6.94 that is after Tax and with their healthcare system, it does Vary but Australia has a protection on Medical and medications, but that’s what people pay for it. In America, the same insulin costs $98.70. *Before* tax. And you want Wayne Pharmaceuticals to join in on this racket? To charge people even more for something they can’t live without?”

The room was silent, the weight of Tim’s words pressing down on everyone. Drayton opened his mouth to respond, but Tim didn’t give him the chance. “And let’s talk about Wayne Pharmaceuticals’ insulin,” Tim continued, his voice growing sharper. “Right now, we currently charge $23 for it before it's Taxed by the chemist. That’s already more than triple the cost in Australia. And now you’re saying we need to raise the price even higher? If I may Mr Drayton, do you currently use medication?”

Drayton cleared his throat, his face reddening. “Mr. Drake-Wayne, with all due respect, these adjustments are necessary to keep up with rising costs and—”

“Don’t,” Tim said, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t try to justify this to me. I take amoxycillin due to my immune system being compromised from my Spleen. I know exactly how often I need new prescriptions for it due to not having a Spleen, which is an organ that I can live without, and I know exactly how much it costs. I can afford it because of my position here and because of my family’s wealth. But what about the people who can’t? What about the single parents, the minimum-wage workers, the people who are already drowning in medical debt? Do you honestly think they’re going to look at your ‘modest price increase’ and say, ‘Oh, yes, I’d love to spend even more of my paycheck on staying alive’? Or are they just going to stop taking their medication altogether because they can’t afford it?”

Drayton looked like he wanted to sink into his chair, but Tim wasn’t done. “And if you think the public is just going to roll over and accept this, I’d suggest you take a look at what happened in New York. The CEO of United Healthcare was gunned down in the street. And you know what the public’s reaction was? Nothing. No one cared, they celebrated it. Because he’d spent his career profiting off people’s deaths, and everyone knew it.”

His words cut through the room like ice. “Is that what you want Wayne Enterprises to become? A company so reviled that people cheer when one of our executives gets taken out? Because if we go down this road, that’s exactly where we’re headed.”

Lucius, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. “Mr. Drake is right. Wayne Enterprises has always prided itself on being a company that puts people first, we are known as a world class company for affordability for everyone. If we abandon that now, we’ll lose more than just our reputation. We’ll lose the trust of the people who rely on us. And without that trust, no profit.”

Tim nodded, his gaze sweeping over the room. “If Wayne Enterprises wants to stay a leading company—if we want to remain the most sought-after name in the industry not only in America but the world, then we need to stand for something more than profits. We need to stand for people. And if anyone here thinks otherwise, I suggest you find another company to work for, because I’m not budging on this. And if anyone tries to bring this proposal to me again it will be thrown out before the Email even reaches me”

The room was silent, the weight of Tim’s words hanging in the air. Drayton looked like he wanted to argue, but one glance at the determined set of Tim’s jaw told him it would be pointless. “Any other questions?” Tim asked, his voice sharp.

No one spoke.

“Good,” he said, standing and grabbing his tablet. “This meeting is over. I hope you all enjoy the rest of your day, I have another meeting to attend too” And with that, Tim strode out of the room, leaving the stunned board members and executives behind.

The boardroom door clicked shut behind Tim, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His footsteps echoed through the quiet hallway as he made his way back to his office, his mind still replaying the meeting. He could still feel the tension in the room, the weight of the arguments, and the barely restrained frustration threatening to boil over. But it was done. For now, at least.

When he reached his office, Tim pushed the door open and stepped inside, letting it close softly behind him. His eyes immediately darted to the espresso machine in the corner. The idea of another triple shot espresso was tempting—too tempting. He stood there for a moment, staring at it like he was trying to will himself to resist. Finally, he shook his head.

turning away from the machine. Instead, he moved to the small fridge tucked under the counter. Pulling the door open, he grabbed a cold bottle of apple and blackcurrant juice. The condensation felt cool against his palm as he twisted the cap off and took a long sip. The tart, sweet flavor was refreshing, and for the first time that morning, he felt himself start to relax, just a little.

Tim crossed the room and sank into his office chair, the leather creaking softly beneath him. He leaned back, letting the cool juice wash away the residual bitterness of the meeting. For a moment, he closed his eyes, the faint hum of the building around him a comforting white noise. The knock on his door was soft but didn’t surprise him. He didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. “Come in, Lucius.”

Lucius stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him. He carried the same leather-bound notebook he’d had in the meeting, but his posture was more relaxed now, his expression less formal. He walked over to one of the chairs across from Tim’s desk and sat down, setting the notebook on his lap. “You handled that well,” Lucius said, his voice calm and steady. “Firm, clear, and you didn’t let them sidestep the issue.”

Tim gave a small, humorless chuckle, swirling the juice in the bottle. “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ll be getting any Christmas cards from Drayton this year.” Lucius smiled faintly. “I doubt you were ever on his list to begin with. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you made the right call. The board needed to hear it, and so did the pharmaceutical team.”

Tim sighed, setting the juice bottle down on his desk with a soft thud. “They’re not going to stop, you know. Drayton, the marketing team, the board members who only care about the shareholders—they’ll keep pushing. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not next week, but they’ll try again.”

“Of course they will,” Lucius said. “That’s the nature of the business. But as long as you’re here, Tim, they’ll know they have to fight for every inch. And that kind of resistance can make them think twice.” Tim leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “I just... I hate that we even have to have these conversations. This isn’t what Wayne Enterprises is supposed to be. It’s not who we are.”

Tim looked down at the desk, his fingers tracing absent patterns on the wood grain. “It’s just... exhausting. Knowing that every day there’s going to be another fight. Another argument. Another group of people trying to convince me to put profits over people, especially in that industry.”

The two sat in companionable silence for a few moments, the tension from the morning slowly ebbing away. Tim reached for his juice and took another sip, the tart sweetness grounding him.

Finally, Lucius stood, smoothing his jacket. “I’ll let you get back to it. But if you need anything”

“I know,” Tim said, looking up at him with a small, grateful smile. “Thanks, Lucius.”

Lucius nodded and made his way to the door, leaving Tim alone in the quiet of his office. Tim leaned back in his chair again, staring up at the ceiling as he let out a long breath. The fight wasn’t over. not by a long shot, but for now, he’d won. And that was something.

Tim glanced at his watch, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His next meeting wasn’t in some stuffy boardroom or sterile office space—it was at the Wayne Enterprises steel manufacturing and shipping plant with Mr. Brill. Out of all the meetings he had to attend, this one was a rare bright spot.

Brill was one of the good ones, a man who didn’t just care about deadlines and quotas but about the people who worked under him. He was the kind of manager Tim wished every department had, hardworking, down-to-earth, and fiercely protective of his teams, he wasn’t a head but as leading hand of manufacturing Tim had made it very clear he would be dealing with him instead of another Executive. It was evident in everything he did: the way he supervised, the way he fought for fair wages and better conditions.

By the time Tim arrived at the steel plant, the familiar hum of machinery and the rhythmic clang of metal filled the air. The factory floor was bustling with activity. workers in hardhats and safety vests moving between massive equipment, forklifts whirring as they transported raw materials, and the faint smell of oil and heated metal clinging to the air.

Mr. Brill was already waiting for him near the entrance, his broad frame and weathered face instantly recognizable. He was leaning against a railing, clipboard in hand, scanning over some papers. The moment he spotted Tim, he broke into a wide grin. “Mr. Drake!” Brill called, his voice booming over the din of the factory. He strode forward, extending a hand. “Good to see you again, son.”

Tim returned the handshake with a warm smile. “Good to see you too, Brill. And please, drop the ‘Mr.’ stuff. Just Tim.” Brill chuckled, the deep sound echoing as he clapped Tim on the shoulder. “You say that every time, and I still can’t get used to it. But alright, Tim. Let’s get started. Got plenty to show you.” The two of them set off across the factory floor, walking side by side. Workers glanced up as they passed, offering nods and waves, which Tim returned with ease.

“How’s the team doing?” Tim asked, his voice raised slightly to be heard over the noise. Brill’s grin widened. “They’re doing good, real good. We’ve been hitting our production targets ahead of schedule, and the new safety protocols you approved last quarter? They’ve made a world of difference. Injuries are down, morale’s up. Can’t thank you enough for pushing that through. we have had 12% increase in sales, not to mention contracts”

Tim waved it off. “You’re the one who brought it to my attention. All I did was make sure it got funded.” Brill nodded appreciatively. “Still, we all know it wouldn’t have happened without you backing it. These guys out here? They notice things like that. They know who’s looking out for them.” As they walked, Tim took in the sights around him. Workers moved with practiced efficiency, their faces focused but not strained. There was a sense of camaraderie in the air, a stark contrast to the corporate world Tim had just left behind, it was like a den of hungry wolves waiting for a scrap.

“You’ve got a good crew here,” Tim said as they climbed a set of metal stairs that overlooked the factory floor. “That I do,” Brill agreed, his tone proud. “Best damn team in the business, if you ask me.” They stopped at the railing, looking out over the bustling plant. Brill gestured with his clipboard. “So, here’s the deal. We’ve got a couple of new contracts coming in over the next few months, big ones. Steel for infrastructure projects, mostly. Bridges, rail lines, that sort of thing. It’s going to ramp up production, but we’re ready for it. Got the equipment, got the manpower. Only thing we’ll need is approval for some overtime pay to make sure the night crews are covered.”

Tim nodded thoughtfully. “Consider it approved with time and a half added as an extra benefit on top of it. If this is going to put extra strain on your team, they deserve to be compensated for it.”

Brill’s grin returned. “Knew you’d say that. I already told the guys to expect it.” Tim smirked. “You’re making me predictable, Brill.”

“Predictable in the best way,” Brill said with a chuckle. “It’s why the guys out here respect you. You don’t just talk, the talk. you walk it. That matters. your not a suit to these men, funny enough you take after Bruce”

Tim leaned against the railing, his gaze drifting over the factory floor. It was easy to get caught up in the chaos of corporate meetings, budgets, and shareholder reports, but being here, seeing the faces of the people who actually made Wayne Enterprises run, reminded him of why he fought so hard to keep the company’s values intact.

After a few more minutes of discussion about logistics, safety protocols, and upcoming projects, Brill led Tim back down to the floor. As they walked, workers continued to wave and call out greetings, and Tim made a point to respond to each one. When they finally reached the exit, Brill turned to him, his expression warm. “Thanks for coming out, Tim. It means a lot to the crew and to me.”

Tim kept walking alongside Brill, the steady hum of the factory floor a comforting backdrop to their conversation. His hand rested lightly on the steel railing as they passed rows of machinery, workers busy at their stations. He couldn’t help but think about how much he preferred this—the clanging of metal, the smell of grease and oil, the laughter and banter of workers over the constant, sterile chatter of executives, shareholders, and marketing teams. These were the people Tim appreciated. The ones who kept the company running.

“If I could, I’d spend the whole day down here,” Tim said, half-joking but with a trace of honesty in his voice. Brill laughed, a deep, hearty sound that echoed over the noise of the factory. “Can’t say I’d blame you. Sure beats sitting in some stuffy office all day, doesn’t it?”

“You have no idea,” Tim replied, glancing over at one of the welding stations where a worker gave them a quick nod. Tim returned the gesture with a small wave. “The meetings today have been... let’s just say I’d rather be anywhere else.” Brill raised a brow, his curiosity piqued. “Rough morning already?”

Tim snorted softly, his expression hardening just a little. “You could say that. Some office heads decided it was a good time to try and pitch a price hike on our medications. Insulin, amoxycillin, levothyroxine. They tried to frame it as a business strategy.” Brill’s face darkened at that, his hand tightening around the clipboard he was holding. “You’re kidding me.”

“I wish I was,” Tim said, his tone sharp. “They were throwing out all the usual excuses ‘production costs,’ ‘shareholder confidence,’ ‘maintaining profitability.’ But it’s all just corporate-speak for ‘let’s see how much more we can squeeze out of people before they break.’”

Brill shook his head, his expression grim. “You shut them down, though, right?” Tim gave him a sidelong glance. “What do you think?” Brill cracked a small grin despite the frustration on his face. “Good.”

Tim stopped walking for a moment, turning to face Brill fully. “You know what pisses me off the most? You. Your team. These guys are out here. You’re the ones I think about when they start pulling that crap. I know plenty of people here rely on Wayne Pharma medications.”

Brill’s expression softened, and he rested a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “You’re a good man, Tim. Not a lot of people in your position would give a damn about this stuff. Most of them wouldn’t even know what their workers are dealing with, let alone care.”

Tim shrugged, looking down at the floor for a moment before meeting Brill’s gaze again. “It’s not hard to care when you actually look around. These guys work their asses off every day. They deserve better. And it’s not just about them, it’s personal for me, too. I’ve been on amoxycillin since I was 13. I know how often I need to refill the prescription.”

Brill watched him carefully, his respect for Tim deepening with every word. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, kid. Bruce would be proud.” Tim smiled faintly at that, though there was a sadness in his eyes. “I hope so. I’m trying to do right by him. By all of this.” He gestured to the factory around them.

Tim was leaning casually against a railing, chatting with Brill about one of the new infrastructure contracts, when he spotted a familiar figure moving through the bustling factory floor. It was hard to miss Alfred he was impeccably dressed as always, his suit and tie a stark contrast to the high-vis vests and steel-toed boots surrounding him. Yet, despite his formal attire, Alfred moved through the factory with ease, his calm presence blending seamlessly with the industrious energy of the workers.

He was speaking to one of the crew, a man in high-vis gesturing toward Tim. Alfred nodded politely, offering a small smile before continuing in Tim’s direction. Brill turned to see what had caught Tim’s attention and let out a low chuckle. “Looks like you’ve got company.” Tim laughs. “Of course I do. Alfred always finds me.”

“That man’s got a sixth sense when it comes to you, doesn’t he?”

“You have no idea,” Tim muttered with a grin.

When Alfred finally reached them, he gave a polite nod to Brill before turning his attention to Tim. “Master Timothy,” he said in his usual calm tone, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “I see you’re keeping yourself busy.” Tim waved a hand toward the factory around him. “Just catching up with Brill and the team. Honestly, I’d happily spend the rest of the day here if it meant avoiding another meeting.” Brill laughed, clapping Tim on the back. “You’re welcome anytime, Tim. But something tells me Alfred’s not here to let you hang around.”

“You would be correct, Mr. Brill,” Alfred replied with a faint smile. “I’m here to collect Master Timothy for his scheduled outing” Tim groaned playfully, though there was a hint of genuine reluctance in his tone. “Right. I almost forgot about that.” Alfred raised an eyebrow, a smile working its way to his lips. “I highly doubt that, sir. You promised me this morning that you’d make time for it.”

Brill chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I won’t keep you, Tim. But don’t be a stranger, alright? You’re always welcome here.” “Thanks, Brill,” Tim said, shaking his hand firmly. “And thanks for everything you do. Seriously.” Brill waved him off. “Just doing my job. You take care.”

With that, Brill turned and headed back toward the factory floor, leaving Tim and Alfred standing by the railing. Tim glanced around the bustling factory one last time, feeling the faint pull of wanting to stay.

As they exited the factory, the noise of the machinery faded behind them, replaced by the hum of the city. Alfred led the way to the sleek black car waiting just outside, holding the door open for Tim. Finally, he sighed and slid into the car. As Alfred took his seat in the driver’s position and started the engine, Tim leaned back, the faint smell of steel and oil still lingering in his mind.

“Alright, Alfred,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Let’s go pick out some plants.” The car pulled away from the factory, heading toward the nursery. And though Tim’s mind was already drifting back to the battles he’d fought that morning.

True to his word, Alfred made a slight detour on the way to the nursery, pulling the car up to the curb outside Tim’s favorite café. It was a cozy little spot nestled on a quiet street corner, the kind of place that didn’t rely on flashy signs or gimmicks to draw customers. Instead, it was all about the warm atmosphere, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting out the door. Tim perked up as the car slowed, his earlier reluctance to leave the factory melting into a small smile. “Thanks, Alfred. You didn’t have to, you know.”

“Nonsense,” Alfred replied, cutting the engine as he glanced at Tim in the rearview mirror. “I believe I recall someone declaring this café’s iced Lungo to be ‘the single greatest invention mankind has ever achieved.’ I couldn’t possibly deny you such brilliance on a day like today.”

Tim laughed, shaking his head as he opened the car door. “Did I really say that?” “You did,” Alfred said, his tone dry but fond. “Though I refrained from reminding you that the same could be said for the wheel, penicillin, and indoor plumbing.”

Tim grinned as he stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him. “Fair point. I’ll keep that in mind.” The café was already buzzing with its usual mid-afternoon crowd, the hum of quiet conversations mixing with the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. As Tim walked through the door, the familiar scent of coffee and baked goods enveloped him, instantly making him feel just a little more at ease.

“Tim!” one of the baristas called from behind the counter, a young woman with a bright smile and a teal streak in her hair. “The usual?” “You know it, Jess,” Tim replied, leaning casually against the counter. “How’s it going today?”

“Same old, same old,” Jess said as she started working on his drink. “Though I’m guessing your day hasn’t been quite as mellow, huh? You’ve got that ‘already over it’ look.” Tim chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “You have no idea.”

Jess smirked as she handed him his drink. “Well, at least you’ve got this. One iced Lungo, with an extra shot of espresso because I’m guessing you’ll need it.” “You’re a lifesaver,” Tim said, handing her a generous tip before taking a sip. The rich, smooth flavor hit him instantly, and he let out a satisfied sigh. “Perfect as always.”

“Glad you think so,” Jess said, waving him off as another customer approached the counter. “Take care, Tim!” Tim gave her a small wave as he headed back out to the car, the drink already working its magic. Alfred had the door open for him by the time he reached the curb, and Tim slid back into his seat with a grateful nod.

“Feel better, sir?” Alfred asked as he started the car again, merging smoothly into the light afternoon traffic. “Much,” Tim replied, holding up the drink like it was a trophy. “This is exactly what I needed.”

“Excellent,” Alfred said, the corners of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. “Now, if you’re properly fortified, we can continue to the nursery.” Tim chuckled, leaning back in his seat as the car moved through the city streets.

As they approached the plant nursery, Tim glanced out the window, his thoughts starting to shift. He was looking forward to the greenery, the quiet, and the chance to spend some time with Alfred away from the chaos of Wayne Enterprises. The drive to the nursery was surprisingly pleasant. The city’s bustling energy gradually gave way to quieter streets lined with trees and the occasional glimpse of open fields, a rare sight that Tim couldn’t help but appreciate, even if he wasn’t particularly looking forward to the task ahead. Alfred, however, seemed to be enjoying himself. Tim caught the faint smile on the older man’s face as the car rolled to a stop in front of the nursery’s entrance.

The nursery itself was charming, a sprawling space filled with rows of vibrant plants, earthy tones, and the sweet, clean scent of flowers and soil. A hand-painted wooden sign reading "Sarah's Green Thumb Nursery" hung above the entrance gate, swaying slightly in the gentle breeze. Beyond the entrance.

Alfred turned off the car and looked over at Tim, his smile still lingering. “Here we are, Master Timothy. I’m sure you’ll manage to survive this ordeal, even if it’s not a boardroom battle.” Tim rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “You’re enjoying this way too much, Alfred.”

“Guilty as charged,” Alfred replied smoothly, stepping out of the car.

Tim followed, stretching briefly before shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. He glanced around the nursery, taking in the sight of vibrant flowers, rows of potted plants, and the occasional worker moving between tasks. As they approached the main office, the door swung open, and Sarah, the owner of the nursery, stepped out. She was in her late 40s, her sun-kissed skin and earth-stained overalls a testament to the amount of time she spent working outdoors. Her warm smile widened when she spotted Alfred.

“Alfred!” she called, wiping her hands on a towel slung over her shoulder. “It’s been ages!”

“Not that long, Sarah,” Alfred replied with a chuckle, shaking her hand firmly. “You’re as lively as ever, I see.”

“And you’re as sharp as ever,” Sarah quipped before turning to Tim. “And this must be the ‘young man’ you’ve been telling me about. Tim, right?” Tim offered a polite smile, shaking her hand. “That’s me. It’s nice to meet you, Sarah.”

“Likewise,” Sarah said, her eyes twinkling. “Alfred’s been singing your praises for years. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Tim shot Alfred a look. “You’ve been talking about me?”

“Only occasionally,” Alfred said innocently. “Mostly when I’m in need of an amusing anecdote.”

Sarah laughed as Tim sighed dramatically. “Well, don’t worry, Tim. We’ll go easy on you today. We’ve got plenty of plants to look at, but I promise we’ll make it as painless as possible.”

Tim smirked. “I appreciate that.”

As Sarah led them deeper into the nursery, she pointed out various sections of flowering plants, shrubs, herbs, and the greenhouse where some of the more delicate plants were kept. Workers bustled around, potting plants, trimming leaves, and watering rows of greenery. Tim’s gaze wandered as they walked, eventually catching sight of one of the larger greenhouses. Inside, a young man was working diligently, earbuds in as he hummed along to whatever music was playing. He moved with practiced ease, pruning plants, arranging them neatly on benches, and sorting orders with a quiet focus.

Tim found himself watching for a moment, intrigued by the calm yet efficient way he worked. There was something oddly soothing about it—seeing someone so at ease, so immersed in their task. Sarah noticed Tim’s attention and glanced toward the greenhouse. “That’s Y/N,” she said with a smile. “He’s one of our best. Always up early, always working hard, and somehow always in a good mood. I don’t know how he does it, but the plants seem to love him.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “You make him sound like a plant whisperer.” “Sometimes I think he might be,” Sarah said with a laugh. “He’s been helping me here for a while now. Great kid. If you need someone to find a particular plant, he’s your guy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tim said, his tone light but genuine. Alfred, of course, noticed Tim’s interest and gave a knowing smile. “Perhaps you should introduce yourself, sir..” Tim shook his head slightly, though he was still watching Y/N from the corner of his eye as the young man carefully placed a potted mix of Peonies onto a waiting cart. “Maybe later. Let’s get through the plant selection first.” “Very well,” Alfred said, with a content hum.

_______________

#dc tim drake #dc universe #dc comics #dcu #tim drake x you #tim drake x male reader #tim drake x reader #batman #batfam #red robin x reader #red robin #red robin x male reader #red robin x you #red robin x y/n #tim drake x y/n

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in1-nutshell · 3 days ago

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And oh god the reveal. Maybe Magneto finally got his dates and order and realized “oh shit, that's my kid”. Maybe Ultra magnus sent a email which sent the entire us government into a panic because how the fuck did this escape notice. What if when Magneto figured it out he tried to talk to them. He calls them by their birth name, not the name the government gave them to protect them, or the name their robot family gave them, the name he gave them. “I go by Fearless now, Eric” (man imagine getting disowned by your own kid). As far as the X-men are concerned, their favorite telenovela just got better. As for the lost light, oh boy get ready for headcanons. Running on the idea that Cybertronians are an asexual species, their whole family units are created through adoption. To create that bond with someone is a very important and almost sacred choice. To abandon a child you chose to take in for a selfish reason is borderline unheard of. Even with IDW Ophelia, Megs left her behind originally to protect her, shitty yes, but still an action born out of the desire to keep her safe, still lining up with the importance of these bonds to cybertronians. Needless to say, the general opinion of magento went from “eh, whatever, we have megatron on board.” to “fuck this one guy in particular”

Once I get enough energy and patience, I will write a longer piece on this AU.

Hope you enjoy!

AU: Magneto is Fearless's Dad (part 2)

SFW, Angst, Familial, Platonic, Mention of X Men 97, Human reader

MTMTE/ XMEN 97

It had been a couple of days since Fearless’s failed assassination attempt and there were still no leads.

A couple of villains were called into question, even some government officials, but nothing solid.

But that wasn’t the most important thing.

The Fearless and Magneto beef was still raging on strong.

Finally at 1 in the morning, Magneto realizes why Fearless looked so familiar.

He had known their mother… they looked like…

…

Like the child he left behind all those years ago...

…

…Oh, this made too much sense it hurt.

The Brick of Parenthood had finally found its target.

He always thought that they would have led a normal life on Earth, not galivanting through space with giant alien robots, one which was a genocidal ex warlord.

Take it for his kid to do something strange and reckless.

Seeing the little kid he knew now all grown up sent a pang of guilt through his chest.

Then came a thought... arguably a terrible idea.

Talking to them.

There was without a doubt in Magneto’s mind that they knew who he was, it explained in the pained look they gave him at times.

He needed to talk to them, now.

Fearless was happily talking with Morph when he came, asking to talk to them in private.

They don’t like the look the older man is giving them.

It looked like pity and… pain?

They warily agree.

The pair makes their way into a room in the mansion. Fearless crosses their arms. Fearless: “So, what did you want to talk about?” Magneto: “… It has been a long time since we last saw each other, hasn’t it?” Fearless stiffened. Fearless: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Magento: “I did not raise a liar.” Fearless’s eyes widened and unconsciously takes a step back. Magneto: “My little Lionheart… it has been a long time.” The name brought flashbacks of a little kid reaching out for a hug to their tall father. They shake their head. Fearless: “I go by Fearless, Eric. That is the name I go by now, the one MY Family gave me. I expect you to at least have the decency to respect that.” Magneto: “… Fine then… Fearless.” Fearless huffs as they tighten their arms around themselves. Fearless: “Was this what you wanted to talk about? Because if it is your wasting your time and mine.” They turn to open the door behind them, but the metal locks lock themselves. Fearless: “…Unlock the doors Magneto.” Magneto: “Not until we talk.” Fearless: “What is there to talk about?” Fearless tries opening the door with no luck. Magneto: “It has been years since I’ve last seen you child.” Fearless: “And who’s fault was that, Eric. Now if you can be so kind as to open the door—” Magneto: “You didn’t have the X gene Fearless. Your birth stood against so many things I stood against at the time. I had to leave you. You must understand that.” Fearless: “I don’t have to understand Jack Magneto! Now let me out!” Fearless tries furiously to open the doors now, only for some metal sheets to block the door. Fearless: “Eric! Open the doors now!” Magneto steps forward as Fearless tries prying the metal themselves. Magneto: “You are going to hurt yourself like that.” Fearless continues to trying to pry the metal with their bare hands. Magneto: “You have to understand that when I left you—” Fearless: “UNDERSTAND WHAT!? That I wasn’t the perfect baby you wanted! That I didn’t fit in your ideal world?! Save me the speech Eric I know! I’VE KNOWN THAT SINCE THE DAY I FOUND OUT WHO EXACTLY MY FATHER WAS!” Tears were streaming down their face, but they stood tall with their fist clenched. A heavy silence filled the room. Fearless: “If you have any ounce of any respect or basic decency… let me go.” Magneto wordlessly let the metal sheets fall to the ground. Fearless wastes no time in bursting out of the room. Magneto sighs sadly from inside the room. Meanwhile in the room next door. Logan and Morph were trying to watch a movie when they overheard the conversation through the wall. Logan and Morph: “…” Morph: “…That was unexpected.” Logan: “…You owe me a 12 pack and 20 buck’s bub.” Morph: “Oh C’mon!”

And apparently those two weren’t the only ones who overheard.

Jean had seen a distraught Fearless running outside and decided to gently look inside their mind to see what could have possibly upset them.

…

It did not take long there after for the rest of the X men to find out about the new family drama.

There was a lot of talk between the team about Fearless and Magneto, but they never guessed something like this.

So many questions yet to be answered!

The drama!

The Angst!

Some members are kind of glad a plot twist happened in their new telenovela, but at the same time are sympathetic to the whole ‘messed up family bloodlines thing’.

Fearless was walking around having calmed down. They spot Magneto exiting the room and walking to their direction. This was at the same time Kurt and Rouge just so happen to be walking by. The pair walked a bit faster to get to Fearless’s side. Kurt: “Fearlezz!” Fearless jumped at the sudden noise but calmed down seeing the blue mutant. Fearless: “Primus Kurt, don’t scare me like that.” Kurt: “Zorry!” Rouge gently placed a hand on their back, guiding them to another direction. Rouge: “There’s a cool thing the boys wanted ta show ya.” Fearless: “Now? I mean sure! Cool, cool, cool.”

The real question now about the bots.

Did THEY know about this?

Only one way to find out!

Morph is sitting by Whirl in his holoform. Morph: “Has Fearless every talked about their family, like before going to space?” Whirl: “Not really. They don’t talk too much on all the Earthy stuff.” He raises an eyebrow. Whirl: “Why you want some information on them?” Morph: “Well, its more like we’ve just gotten some new information on them.” Whirl: “Like what?” Morph: “… Logan won the bet.” Whirl: “Which ones Logan again? Wait is he the gruffy one with the claws that thinks I know some guy name Deadpool?” Morph: “That’s him.” Whirl: “Oh okay then. Wait what did he bet on again? Hang on a second.” Whirl pulls out a list of the bets and goes down before stopping at Logan’s bet. Whirl slowly looks at Morph. Morph: “Turns out Fearless’s dad is Magento.” Whirl: “… Excuse me but WHAT THE—” Magnus, in his holoform, comes in. Magnus: “Whirl! What have we talked about that language!” Whirl: “MAGNETO IS FEARLESS’S EARTH DAD!” Magnus: “WHAT!?” Morph: “I feel like I made a mistake…”

News about Magento being Fearless’s biological father spreads amongst the bots like wildfire.

They go to the X men about more details about this.

They would have asked Fearless… but these past few days the resident human looked ready to drop dead and sob on the spot.

The Lost Light crew is absolutely furious hearing the implication of Magneto Abandoning Fearless at a young age.

It is explained to the mutants about the significant values chosen family had amongst Cybertronian’s.

To abandon one’s sparkling/ youngling/ or mentee at such a tender age was simply unheard of.

The bots and X men hear some yelling from a far. It was Fearless yelling at Magneto to leave them alone. Megatron is the first to move. The Earth shakes as the Ex Warlord now looms over Fearless, casting a long shadow over Magneto. Fearless looks surprised to see the mech. Fearless: “Megatron? What are you doing here in bot mode? Did something happen with your holoform—EEP!” Megatron scoops Fearless up with one servo and holds them firmly to his chassis. He sported a harsh glare at the man on the ground. Megatron: “When my child says to leave them alone. You. Leave. Them. Alone.” Cue gasps from X men in the background. The twists keep getting better and better. Fearless is still very confused. Magneto: “Your child?” Rodimus: “That’s right! His kid. A member of our crew and family.” The other bots soon start lining behind or beside Megatron. Megatron: “Do not let me catch you disrespecting their space again.” With that the bots turn to go to their ship. Megatron looks down to see Fearless trying to stifle a sob. He gently rubs a digit up and down their back. They began to shake like a leaf and curled even smaller against his servo. Megatron: “There, there… I’ve got you… I’ve got you… Your safe now Fearless… Your safe…”

The bots and Fearless were going to need a day to process this before returning back to the big problems at hand.

Especially Fearless…

#maccadam #transformers x reader #human buddy #mtmte x platonic reader #mtmte x reader #fearless buddy #magneto is fearless's dad au #x men #x men 97

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dcdreamblog · 20 hours ago

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You ever hear about those rumors of the Legion of Super-Heroes? Apparently, every now and then Superman likes to go 1000 years in the future to hang out with some alien heroes. You think it has any merit, or is it just a load of nonsense?

Yep, that's real.

(An image of Superman and this "Legion of Superheroes", Daily Planet) Of course our knowledge ABOUT these heroes in particular is limited to say the least. This is the clearest image by far we've gotten of most or all of them. It is unknown if this is their membership in its entirety, if other heroes who appeared and then vanished in Superman's orbits are members, or even if all people shown in this photograph are actual members of the Legion. I'll tell you what we DO know, from various sources but the most trusted of them is of course what Superman himself and the Justice League have said about these heroes from the far future. They are from what we would call the 31st century, that is around the year 3000, 1000 years from our present time. Their chronology seems to have shifted at some point into the use of a new calendar not based around Earth's seasons but what small fragments we've gotten from overhearing them have baffled mathematicians and astronomers alike as to what that new scale might be. Most of their membership is made up of teenagers and young adults. Why this is the case or if their time is somehow lacking in adult superheroes is unknown.

They act on official sanction in both space and time with authority vested in them by an organization called the "United Planets". One can draw all sorts of conclusions from that name alone. I choose to imagine Star Trek because I'm optimistic at heart. A large chunk if not most of their membership is made up of what we would call aliens but that definition seems to have shifted in their time. Namely that most members of the Legion, owing to the fact that they all mostly hail from this "United Planets" consider themselves the same nationality if not always the same ethnicity, a reporter seems to have tripped some kind of cultural nerve by referring to one of the Legion's more visually striking members as an "alien" to which his teammates reacted with offense, as if referring to their comrade as an "alien" was somehow implying an otherness to him, akin to calling someone of a separate ethnic group "Unamerican" which implies a couple of things about their cultural history. And the fact that humanity seems to have native populations on many planets outside Earth by the time period they come from only further complicates matters, meaning that two "Legionnaires" (Their term for themselves) who look identically "human" might be from totally different planets with different cultural details while a "human" Legionnaire and a more alien seeming one might be from the same planet and be much closer to one another in general bearing. It speaks to a VERY multicultural and mosaic kind of future for mankind where the idea of what being "human" means is totally divorced from our outward mannerisms and even basic biology. And I think that's real cool.

#dc #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #superhero #comics #tw unreality #unreality #unreality blog #ask game #ask blog #asks open #please interact #worldbuilding #superman #clark kent #legion of superheroes #LOSH

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jfs-worldbuilding-and-art · 3 days ago

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Living and travelling in Aerrhea as a nomad Pt.1

Clothing and Common Travel Gear

There are many cultures in Aerrhea, some live high in the sky inside airships or balloons, others enjoy a life as animal herders, farmers or inside city-states, but the majority of people live as nomads. Travelling from island to island, gathering plants and fruits or following huge animal herds as they too travel from island to island, sometimes stripping them bare of plant life, only for it to grow again later on.

But travelling is not something as easy as one would imagine, principally without the help of advanced technology such as automobiles and other vehicles, for that some animals were domesticated to help navigate the myriad of floating islands present in Bifröst. But humanity always finds a way, or ways of circumventing the many challenges that show up in such an alien geography.

The first tool we will check today is the Island Anchor (1) and the Atlatl or Spear-thrower (2): The two tools go hand-in-hand as the latter is used to throw the former. Spear-throwers or Atlatls are tools used by humans to help propel and launch spears further than what is possible with bare hands (also noteworthy that a research shows that Atlatls work as equalizers between men and women when throwing spears). This device has been adapted for throwing Island Anchors by getting larger, allowing it to launch longer and heavier spears.

Which is basically what the Island Anchors are, long and heavy blunt spears that have the role of anchoring two islands and help people traverse them. The way they work is rather simple, much like a simplified (and oversized) grappling hook, the Anchor has a long and sturdy rope attached to its middle that is tied to a tree or something else, then with the aid of the Atlatl the Anchor gets thrown in between two trees of the aimed island.

After that the rope is pulled and due to it being attached in the middle of the spear, the spear gets stuck between the trees, allowing for cargo and people to cross from one island to the other or sometimes even pull the two islands together.

~~~

That is far from being the only way to move from one island to another though. A far more simple way to do that is simply wait, wait for two islands to get close enough to allow for a jump from one island to the other. That may also include climbing the island-side, which may contain fines, roots and trees, that is why Aerrhean Humans evolved their adaptations, discussed priory but which includes their long arms, prehensile toes and stronger musculature. Holding tightly to the vines and all, avoiding falling to their demise sometimes hundreds of meters above the sea level.

However, climbing islands has its own dangers, including not only venomous plants but also the many highly venomous and deadly snakes that hide among the vines and roots of island-side plants.

Due to this most cultures have developed protection for their most exposed parts when climbing: the limbs. As the primary contact between the islands and the people, they are more susceptible to being bitten. Due to this the cultures that travel from one island to another by climbing have developed Arm Protection (3) and Shin Guards (9). These come in many flavors, some are made of seeds (3), leather straps (9, left), proper Shin guards made of leather (9, right), or even wood and bamboo.

When you don't stay in the same place for long it is good to keep your belongings and other helpful things close to you. So that is why Backpacks (4), Fanny packs, purses (10), Hammocks (12) and even Canteens (5) and other storage items are so common among nomadic people. Burden animals have been domesticated and are often used, but for carrying less immediate usage objects and the heavier ones too. Keeping your personal belongings and such things at your easy reach is very important when travelling through islands.

Generally each storage item has its specific usage. Backpacks (4) often store clothes and similar things such as Hammocks, although those can be carried separately (12). Hammocks are the primary and often only sleeping aid among nomads, it is easily carried, not difficult to produce (in essence it is a net) and can be set easily too. Often having rope attachments that can be regulated for different circumstances, such as two trees far away or too close.

Purses and Fanny packs (10) store items that can be lost more easily or require specific storage such as personal belongings, trade coins, religious objects, musical instruments, etc. Bamboo canteens (5) are used mostly for carrying water, but can also store objects that need to be waterproofed, such as spices, other kinds of powders, fire starters, food, etc.

When it comes to clothing, there are many kinds and they are often relegated to specific cultures, groups or even families. These include Hip Capes (6) for covering the butt and legs, Capelets (7) for covering the shoulders and protecting them and the torso from sun and rain, but other clothes also include Loincloths, Skirts, Tunics, etc.

Finally, we have Ropes and Earrings. Ropes are more often simply tools for wrapping things as you expect from a rope, but they also can be worn as clothing or adornments, like necklaces, around the hip, across the torso, etc. The only object that is truly without purpose other than looking good are earrings, in this picture we have a woman wearing earrings made of shell, probably from some flying cephalopod, but earrings are as diverse as the cultures that make them, being made from all sorts of materials.

#my art #aerrhea #art #illustration #worldbuilding #spec bio #speculative biology #spec evo #speculative evolution #speculative zoology #fantasy

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genderqueerdykes · 20 hours ago

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So uhhhhh this might be a little weird but I have memory issues and this has been bugging me for a week... I'm pretty? sure I might have blocked you on an old account when some femboy discourse stuff was going here and left your server that you had at the time? Like I did finally confirm it was you we were remembering because I know I bought a pinkie pie kandi bracelet from you off etsy (not sure if before or after the disc horse, bc we're very much a "everyone deserves to be able to survive and should not lose access to support no matter what") which for the record we love.

And like it wasn't personal, at worst we may have made a vent post at the time bc it's an identity important to us and literally no judgement whatsoever

But the reason we're even bringing it up is that we kinda feel guilty for the block even though we know it's okay to block anyone at anytime for any reason, especially since now that we saw you feel differently we're just interacting like normal and stuff

which... tbf might be trauma-related ocd from some OTHER like actually really bad internet Tumblr discourse stuff but yeah uh. I think it would help to apologize even if it's not necessary, because that's been a healthy coping mechanism for us in the past (not a compulsive one, the compulsion is more "you should never talk to them again bc you're evilbad and they don't deserve to have to interact with you") so uh, we're sorry and we think you're cool and would love to interact more and be friends (if that's not overly parasocial ahhhh x'D)

hey, that's okay, you're allowed to block people for your own safety. i don't keep track of who does and doesn't have me blocked. if someone wants to block me, that's their right, it don't take it personally. you do not have to apologize for blocking me at any point. that's not something you ever have to apologize to someone for, but i totally get why you would want to do that to give yourself some form of closure. that makes sense to me

i understand why you would've blocked over that. when i was running that server, i was friends with some very aggressive people who were adamant on policing the usage of the word femboy, so i apologize that things got so shitty about that. other staff members that were involved were very, very pushy and i ended up feeling extremely alienated from that server because i found myself disagreeing with a lot of the rules that got put into place. i especially started feeling uncomfortable because other staff members were very transandrophobic and it was causing me a lot of self hatred for being a trans man at the time. that discord server was not good for my mental health, which is why i stopped interacting with it before leaving altogether.

it took me a while to realize i did not agree with those people and that the fighting over who "gets" to use the term is so fucking petty and stupid, but i see it now and that shit was dumb. i can see why you would've been upset and left and blocked over that. at the time, plenty of people were mad about it and they had every right to be. i wasn't treating certain people right. i left that server a while back because i just got so tired of how it was being run and did not have the energy to try to rectify it due to homelessness and housing insecurity at the time. it was way too authoritarian in terms of who was allowed to identify as certain terms for me to continue to give it my stamp of approval. it was like, the exact opposite of what i wanted in a queer discord server.

thank you, though, i appreciate it. i know that this won't make the thoughts stop but you truly are allowed to block whoever you want or need to for your own safety. it's not a personal attack on them. it's a way to prevent unnecessary conflict. i fully believe in blocking when and where necessary. i block when i need to, too. but thank you so much, i appreciate it. i apologize for how shitty i was in the past about people using that term. i got pulled into the wrong crowd and i'm very glad i'm not a part of that anymore.

you're more than welcome to send a DM, and i'm glad you still like the bracelet! that must've been quite a while ago, i hope it's still holding up well! if you ever need any repairs or anything, let us know :)

#asks #feedback #answers

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fortemelody · 2 days ago

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What are your thoughts on Team Chaotix joining the live action universe, if that time should come to pass?

ooo this is an interesting one!

i’m gonna keep it real and say that as much as i love the sonic movies/SCU i lowkey don’t want them to try to attempt to add every single sonic character ever. however, i feel like the chaotix might be “main-casty” enough to make it in, and tbh i wanna talk about the potential here anyways becus i love the chaotix so flippin muchhhsjfigntkr

i think the best way to go about this would be a second season in the knuckles tv show (for the sake on convince of my answer, try your very best to imagine that they had way more budget 😭). i think it would be interesting if knuckles maybe tried to go back to his tribe grounds to kinda reminisce just as sonic did with his cave, only to see the chaotix there solving an unrelated mystery. knuckles would get mad and maybe fight yada yada but in the end they would both help each other out on their missions. maybe the mystery therye solving could coincide with new info on his family lore, or perhaps have tikal introduced or even a brand new echidna character in a flashback involved (i’m getting the vibes of kinda like what sonic frontiers did with the ancients mixed with the SA 1 backstory) that parallels him in some way.

i feel like the fact that different planets exist in this universe makes this a whole lot more complicated too. i see the chaotix as refugees in that regard. the parallels do not end becus knuckles would see that vector and espio are not the best at taking of charmy, and eventually relate it to the growing pains tom and maddie felt when they had to take on literally 3 ALIEN CHILDREN 💀

i also feel as though the fact that the chaotix made something out of themselves from the ground up (becoming detectives) would give knuckles a new perspective on the endless possibilities that are out there that don’t just involve fighting- which i feel like ties in with the themes of the knuckles show.

however… if you instead want my realistic answer… i’d say therye not gonna show up for awhile. we know the general vibe of sonic 4 and then it’s likely that sonic 5 will focus on 06. the chaotix unfortunately aren’t in that many games with a story focus so like i think at best they could get a very short cameo at some point- which is what they tried to do with rouge and big (…anddddd i’m now realizing this means we could wait up to literally like 5-10 years to see them HELP).

anyways rip to the chaotix you never had a chance but i’m rootin for ya anyway 🫡

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fandom #sth #sonic movie #sonic movie 1 #sonic movie 2 #sonic movie 3 #sonic movie universe #chaotix #chaotix detective agency #team chaotix #charmy the bee #espio the chameleon #vector the crocodile #knuckles the echidna

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botmilf · 9 hours ago

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wanna quickly add to this because I've gotten a few snarky messages for this one lol. But not just because of that. I genuinely find this sort of interesting.

"Well he mirrors Sonic and Sonic in the movie is very clearly a child so--" they mirror each other in the game universe too, and they don't have ages there. When Sonic and Shadow were first designed they weren't done so adhering to some age group. Because all the characters in the Sonic Canon have the pretty much the same proportions lol. There is absolutely nothing about Sonic or Shadow physically that confirms them to be children/teenagers if you're going off of human standards and this is also true for the SCU because like, Knuckles looks almost exactly like his dad at whatever age he is now. And sure Sonic might be a kid in the SCU but we're not talking about him, we're talking about Shadow.

"Gerald referred to him and Maria as 'kids' and Walters said 'those are children!'" Yes, and all that was before Shadow was put in stasis for 50 years. Now, again, I interpreted this as more of a grouped-in sense because he goes along with whatever Maria gets up to. He's an alien. He doesn't know how old he is, or even what he is. It's safe to say that the people around him don't definitively know either.

ALSO based on what he says MULTIPLE times throughout the movie about having to live with the anger for 50 years, that suggests Shadow was at least somewhat conscious. He didn't quite know how much time had passed, but arrested development doesn't make you a minor lol and it wouldn't make him one either. Vi from Arcane is a prime example of this. She was thrown into a dark cell on a prison island for like 10 years starting when she was 14. She still does/thinks in ways, at times, that a teenager would rather than an adult, but that doesn't make her a minor. That just means she's deeply, deeply traumatized--as Shadow is.

Here's the thing too: We don't know what the aging process is like for Mobians in this universe. We don't know how similar or dissimilar it is from humans. Shadow doesn't make this any clearer because we also don't know if this SCU version of him is immortal like in the games. We also don't know if he was engineered as-is like in the games either. We just do not know and I think that in the case of Shadow, it's okay for there to be some nuance.

Lastly, I kiiiinda feel like if the movie had any interest on selling the idea of Shadow being a child in a very literal sense, Keanu Reeves wouldn't have been casted and they would've gotten someone who can at least be convincing as a kid lol. I can suspend my disbelief for some things but Keanu's voice coming out of a child? Nah bro come on lmao.

Look, The movie gives us no definitive answers. At the end of the day that's pretty much what I'm saying in a very long sense. Sorry for the long ass post I'm just being a nerd lol.

SCU Shadow the Hedgehog age discourse rant:

The Shadow the Hedgehog age discourse is kind of crazy because Sega retconned everyone’s age YEARS ago and Shadow never even technically had one because in the games he was created in a lab and in the movie he’s an alien that fell from the sky as-is. It’s not that he doesn’t age, it’s that he doesn’t HAVE an age.

Shadow in the SCU universe is referred to collectively alongside Maria as a kid because, like, bro he’s an alien that knows literally nothing about the world and he’s like 4 ft tall fluff ball. You WOULD treat him like a child, not because he IS physically a child, but because he needs the guidance and supervision of one in a world that he doesn’t understand. Also he’s with Maria, an actual kid, all the time just by way of her living at the laboratory, so it makes sense to refer to them both collectively as ‘kids’ because he goes along with whatever mischief she gets into. It makes sense that the soldiers around the facility would view him as a child too. Not because Shadow physically IS a minor, but because you’d have to treat him like one.

Also he’s voiced by fucking Keanu Reeves homie.

Idk man I’m just tired of seeing people’s comments section get lit up by a bunch of dickheads every time they post a thirst tiktok or make suggestive art/fanfic. People straight up saying shit like “ummm he’s 15” like no he literally, canonically is not lol wtf.

He has no actual age and he never will because he’s FUCKING IMMORTAL LOL

#shadow the hedgehog #sonic movie 3 #sonic movie

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kizzer55555 · 10 months ago

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DP x DC: The Most Dangerous Card Game

Ok so Danny has essentially claimed earth as his. And he is fully aware that there are constant threats to the planet. Now he can’t stop a threat that originates on earth (that’s something he’ll leave to the Justice league) but he can do something about outside threats. Doing some research on ancient spells, rituals, and artifacts, he cast a world wide barrier on the planet to protect it from hostile threats so they cannot enter. This will prevent another Pariah Dark incident. However, barriers like this come at a price. You see, there are two ways to make a barrier. Either make one powered up by your own energy and power (which would be constantly draining) or set up a barrier with rules. The way magic works is that nothing can be absolutely indestructible. It must have a weakness. The most powerful barriers weren’t the ones reinforced with layer after layer of protective charms and buffed up with power. Those could eventually be destroyed either by being overpowered, wearing them down, or by cutting off the original power source. No, the most powerful barriers were the ones with a deliberate weakness. A barrier indestructible except for one spot. A cage that can only be opened from the outside. Or that can only be passed with a key or by solving a riddle. So Danny chooses this type of barrier and does the necessary ritual and pours in enough power to make it. And he adds his condition for anyone to enter.

Now the Justice league? Find out about the barrier when Trigon attempts to attack, they were preparing after he threatened what he would do once he got to earth. How he would destroy them. The Justice league tried to take the fight to him first but were utterly destroyed, so they retreated home to tend to their injuries, and fortify earth for one. Last. Stand. Only when Trigon makes his big entrance…he’s stopped.

The Justice league watch in awe as this thin see-through barrier with beautiful green swirls and speckled white lights like stars apears blocking Trigon and his army’s advance. The barrier looks so thin and fragile yet no matter how hard the warlord hits, none of his attacks can get through and neither can he damage said barrier. That’s when Constantine and Zatanna recognizes what this barrier is. Something only a powerful entity could create. For a moment, the league is filled with hope that Trigon can’t get through yet Constantine also explains that it’s not impenetrable. And clearly Trigon knows this too for he calls out a challenge.

And that’s when, in a flash of light, a tiny glowing teenager appears. He looked absolutly minuscule compared to Trigon and yet practically glowed with power (this isn’t a King Danny AU though).

And that is when the conditions for passing the barrier are revealed. And the Justice realize that the only thing stopping Trigon and his army from decimating earth. The only way he can get through….is by beating this glowing teenager in a card game.

Not just any card game though. The most convoluted game Sam, Danny, and Tucker invented themselves. It’s like the infinite realms version of magic the gathering, combined with Pokémon, and chess. And Danny is the master. So sit down Trigon and let’s play.

(The most intense card game of the Justice league’s life).

After Danny wins, this happens a few more times with outer word beings and possibly even demons attempting to invade earth, yet none have been able to beat the mysterious teenager in a card game. Constantine might even take a crack at it and try to figure out how to play. He’s really bad though. Every time this happens, the Justice league worry that this might be the time the teenager looses. Yet every time, he wins (even if only barely).

Meanwhile, Danny, Sam, and Tucker have gotten addicted to the game and play it almost daily. Some teachers might seem them playing the game are are like ‘awww how cute’ not realizing this game is literally saving the world. Jazz is just happy they aren’t spending as much time on their screens playing Doomed.

#DPxDC #Kizzer55555 ideas #Danny makes a card game to save the world.#Technically he worded the ritual so that they had to ‘beat’ him as those are the most powerful barriers and most reliable.#keys can just get lost or stolen (like the one to Pariah’s Coffin)#A riddle would be useless once someone figured out the answer. Like how no one takes the sphynx seriously anymore.#(Sorry Tuck. But it’s true).#And there is NO WAY Danny is just leaving a hole open for anyone to pass through. No thank you!#So…beating him. But it’s not like Danny wanted to fight so…he edited the ritual a TINY bit. Card games are good. Much less painful too.#Danny Tucker and Sam made the most complicated card game they could imagine.#It’s based on their strategies for fighting ghosts. Capturing them in thermoses. And MUCH based on a on field battle strategy.#It often requires spontaneous thinking on the spot. So Danny? In his ELEMNT. It doubles as practice for his actual ghost battles too.#They had SO much fun making this.#Sam added an entire series of plant cards that act as traps and healing ointments and duds that just take up the field.#Tucker added legitimate hyroglyphics combined with Latin as well as English and ghost speak.#Yes. You actually have to speak that language to play. With proper pronunciation. (Amity Parker’s think the three are talking gibberish.)#I headcanon Sam and Tucker are fluent in Ghost.#Constantine WILL figure this game out SO HELP HIM!#Some of the cards also have combinations related to constellations either in name or placement on the board.#By the way the board is based on a Hexagonal summoning circle with Rhunes along the edges #And the placement of the cards on the board and on what rhune MATTERS.#Also the cards move disintegrate and have certain abilities. Think of Harry Potter Wizard Chess.#But they are normal when Danny plays at school. This is just for ✨effect✨ Against invaders.#Danny faces multiple opponents. He also halts alien invasions.#While Danny COULD stop crime on earth he’s not sure how to fight a normal human and hold back so he sticks to ghosts.#The Justice league are going crazy trying to figure out who this entity is and after deep research are convinced this is some sort of #Ancient being who has protected earth for millenia. They have paintings on ruins and everything.#Danny is not aware they think this.#Raven starts praying to Danny as if he is a god and wrangles the other Teen Titans into doing so as well. Danny is still unaware of this.#Danny is not a King or an ancient. Just a very VERY strong ghost.

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ria-starstruck · 16 days ago

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and also "putting everyone in a simulation will make it all ok 👍" and also "let's park next to this random system's sun" and also "we can't live on our own planet because of our own folly" and so on

#and also an inablity to accept the inevitable...etc etc #i thought of some more but then i forgot them 😋#originally wanted to post this with other sillies but then i was like. well i dont wanna spoil anyone on either a these games so erm. ya #nine sols #outer wilds #nine sols spoilers #outer wilds spoilers #outer wilds echoes of the eye #echoes of the eye spoilers #echoes of the eye #if youve played nine sols could i recommend outer wilds: a space exploration game where u play as a cute and short lookin alien whos #unraveling the mysteries of their solar system although there isnt any combat and although there are horrors theyre not like. well.#nobodies bein harvested thats for sure. and its very much about the story #and if youve played outer wilds uhh. i. dont really know if i can recommend nine sols even though i Can summarize it as a game where u do #explore and there is space and u Are an alien (from a humans pov) and you Are cute and short (from a humans pov)(until u learn the horrors)#and there Are horrors but erm. well. shrug emote. it Is a combat game thats the primary reason #the horrors are less the horrors of space and how easy it is for you to die and the idea of said causes of death and also the unknown. and #more the sins of some REALLY fucked up cats. ethically dubious science sins. actual guts bein spilled. i mean i aint actin like the warning #of the game id recommend lookin those up. sure is a game tho (i cried)(just like w outer wilds)#feels like i could recommend a non combat game to a combat game player easier than the other way round #the theoretical combat game player would be capable of playing a non combat game right #feels harder to imagine the other way around. then again i Did find outer wilds mechanically difficult at times in a way that combat games #can challenge me. so. shrug #all that matters is if u enjoyed the dialogue n interactions in nine sols...if u didnt vibe w that then im unsure how much outer wilds woul #vibe for you. etc etc #idk why i started typing up a whole ass recommendation in the tags. anyway have at ye #idk who'd read this far but i salute you FSDHLFSDHKSFDH

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ehlnofay · 9 months ago

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Pax should have said no.

Damn it all, they should have said no. Should have said go to hell and fucked off back – stop contacting me, sort out your own shit – but they didn’t, fuck knows why, and now they’re stuck here.

(They know why. They know exactly why; absolutely anything would be better than fucking off back to Cyrodiil. What’s for them there?)

But there’s nothing worth staying for here either, and now she’s crammed in between strangers on a long table, everyone dressed in fabrics she’s never seen with dyes so saturated they seem almost gory, eating stuff that isn’t food and talking loud enough to make her want to hurl a glass into the wall. It’s bizarre. The woman next to her, ruddy-faced and bald, wears a headpiece that shines like the sun the Isles doesn’t have; the other side is taken up by a stranger in a bone-white porcelain mask who has not moved but to swill the wine around in their glass. There’s scarcely room for Pax’s chair. It all feels like such a baffling pantomime of aristocracy (she's known the real thing well enough – feasts and toasts and luxurious gifts she had no use for, and if she doesn’t stop thinking about it she actually will throw a glass), bright colours and rich settings and a god taking offerings at the head of the table.

At least, Pax thinks, no-one tries to talk to him; they’re too busy fawning over their lord. Which is probably to be expected; but it all feels so strange, so unsettling, the way they all lean in towards it like flowers turning to face the sun, like seaweed dragged at by the inescapable pull of the tides. They grow towards it through the cracks in the air, matter moving toward the inevitable centre, as if they can imagine nothing more than this.

(Even more unsettling is the way it responds in kind, listening attentively to anyone who speaks to it, leaning in as though to kiss them, as though to swallow them whole. All hell, why did Pax agree to this? Why did they come?)

(They should have told it to fuck off. Should have said no way, I don’t want to help you, don’t want to get involved in anything you’d need my help for. I don’t owe you anything. I don’t need anything from you. I don’t want anything to do with you. I’m done.)

(Pax is done. Pax is sick to death of all this shit; doesn’t want to deal with this, the vaguely described problems of a god that picks people apart like it’s unravelling a thick yarn shawl. Doesn’t want to deal with anything like this. He’s had his fill of gods.)

(Why is he still fucking here? Why did he agree to this? This is no better than eating in that weird fucking inn in town. This is no better than –)

(That’s a lie. It’s a bit better than Cyrodiil. Just as much a shithole, but it pulls the rug out from under him often enough that he doesn’t have time to think too much.)

“Not hungry?” says a prowling voice, coiling catlike into the plaits in their hair, and Pax jumps enough to jostle the masked bastard sitting ramrod straight next to him.

He looks up.

At the empty placemat across from him sits a figure veiled in gossamer, glittering in the glow of the lit-up lichen on the distant throne; the fabric of its endless shawls pulls apart at the ends, peeling away from itself, shedding patches like iridescent insect wings every time it shifts. If Pax squints, they can see through it to the grand marbled wall behind.

She glances back at the chair at the head of the table, where something lounges, eyes dripping gold, intricately carved cane laid across its knees; its too-many fingers are laced with the hand of a man whose gown blooms floral. Flatly, she says, “What the fuck?”

“Aren’t you hungry?” Sheogorath asks, pouting; she can hear it laughing down the other end of the table. “It’s a proper feast. We pulled out all the stops.”

Pax shifts their eyes away to peer down at their plate. “You have served me worms,” she says. She flicks the dish with a fingernail. “In jelly. With flowers.”

“Larva, actually,” Sheogorath replies. It’s still at the other end of the table. It doesn’t seem eager to explain this. When it smiles, the gossamer falls away; its whole face splits in half.

It’s all so fucking stupid. Pax takes a deep breath – in through the nose, ignore all the odd spiced smells, and out – and does not yell at it, or try to hit it, because she’s gotten herself into a situation where that’s not really an option, because she’s a fucking idiot. Why didn’t she just say no?

(She knows why.)

The Mad God’s teeth flash bright as the ornate silver cutlery. Its chair scrapes back from the table. “It melts in your mouth,” it tells her, eyes glittering, “but I won’t make you try it. Walk with me?”

The figure still sits at the head of the table, snatching something from someone’s plate, always, always laughing. Its limbs sprawl like tentacles, like the silken threads of a tapestry, to encompass the whole room. The dinner guests stare as though bewitched, bedevilled, beguiled. Not one of them is looking at Pax. If he were to drop dead with his face in the food his corpse would not be discovered until sunrise.

Pax sniffs and shoves his chair back from the table. He lets Sheogorath (the second Sheogorath – but it must be, what else could it be?) lead him through a narrow door into some winding hallway, the walls lined and rimed with ornate coloured-glass windows. (It’s so much quieter. Still as garishly bright, but Pax is getting the sense that that is inescapable, here; the clothes they wear, as crumpled and covered in travelling-grime as ever and startlingly out of place against the odd jagged finery of the dinner party, seem unimaginably dull in comparison. Everything seems unimaginably dull in comparison.) Outside the windows, they can catch glimpses of the city – its winding, lamp-lit streets, the jumbled mess of its architecture, the sky arcing above it like a child’s attempt at watercolours. Pax wants to smash it, tear it down.

There’s no sun here, but still it’s night. The sky has shifted to purple and black.

“Isn’t it nice?” says their companion; when they look back, it’s nothing more than a shifting impression in the stained-glass window, a series of hairline cracks. It still manages, somehow, to smile at them.

It’s not. The sky is a shadow and the flamboyance of the palace is scraping at their spine. “Sure,” Pax says flatly. When she flexes her fingers, the bruising staining the base knuckle of her thumb aches.

Sheogorath looks at her – an ancient man leaning on a stick, a flickering painting, a bloody corpse, a little girl in velvet-red skirts, a breath. In its mercurial shifting she catches the flowery blossom of the man at the table’s collar, an unpleasant glimpse of her own braided hair, the smell of sulphur. It tips its head. She can’t focus on it anywhere but for the eyes.

“You don’t like my dinner parties,” it announces, as though it’s a revelation, a tragedy; its body crumbles like sea cliffs slowly eroded by the ways. It’s annoying – bloody obnoxious, and incomprehensible, and kind of weird that it noticed, that it would even care. (She’s never liked dinner parties. Nobody ever commented on it before.)

I’ve had well enough of them, Pax could say, or no, I don’t like you, but it’s the fucking Mad God, Daedric Prince of – Pax doesn’t even know what, he’s never known much about this shit, only that it’s well worth avoiding. Prince of the mad and the missing and the foolish, of breaking and breaking and putting yourself back together backwards. She should have said no, but she didn’t, and who knows what would happen if she went back on that now?

It's slinking closer. All that stay static enough to make out are eyes and teeth.

“Pax, yes?” it says, soft-voiced – a hand lands on his arm, small and dry and shivering, the skin as thing as a mouldering leaf. “You have no obligations here. If you want to be on your own, be on your own. We’ve plenty of space for it.”

Pax’s eyes narrow. He does not jerk away from it.

In the light of the coloured sky, the coloured windows, its face is phantasmagorical. “If you don’t want to be here,” it continues – still so skin-pricklingly gentle – “then your hand will not be forced. I’ll speed your way home if you wish.”

They can’t help but twitch at that. It’s setting their teeth on edge. (It’s lying – has to be. After its ages of coaxing them in, meting out information, not telling them where they were until they were on its doorstep, it would not give them the chance to leave.) Rough, still covered in road-grime, Pax asks, “Why should I believe you?”

(None of them have ever given them the chance to leave.)

Sheogorath, a figure of hollow skin and bone, inclines its head. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Pax,” it says. Its eyes are wide and bulging, whites on full display like a frightened horse; it grins again. “Others might. But we’re not a monolith. We’re not even especially similar.”

Pax bites down on the flat edge of their tongue. “That doesn’t mean anything to me.”

The light coming in through the windows flickers. The Mad God turns to meet it.

“I’m the youngest,” it says, its voice glittering like mist on the air. “Did you know that? I don’t remember the world without you in it.” Its form spasms, volatile, wings and limbs and eyes like a snail’s on stalks sprouting and choking and subsiding back into its mass. “I’m closer to you than any. I understand, almost.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Pax repeats. She’s gritting her teeth, tonguing at her gums where two are missing. Are two devil-gods not enough to deal with for a lifetime? Is there really going to be more of this now, too?

Rolling through the air like smoke, the voice says, “It will.”

Pax presses purple-green knuckles to her mouth. Her teeth dig into the soft meat of her lip.

Sheogorath turns to face her, hair moving as though blown by the wind, as though tugged by the tides. It sighs. “You don’t believe me,” it says. Its tongue pokes through its teeth. “That’s perfectly fine. Clever, even. But if you want to leave, all you need to do is tell me so.” It pauses, then; the train of its strange, gnarled crown shifts over its shoulders when it moves its head. “Or just leave. The door is still open.”

“You’d be fine with me just leaving,” Pax rasps around his knuckle, “after weeks of not leaving me alone?”

(Of begging him to come, poorly-hidden agitation giving way to blatant franticness, half-swallowing the fear that choked its face in every mirror it spoke to him through. Of begging him still, after he got here, after he met it – begging in a roundabout manner, casual as anything, its every motion reeking of fear. Its abject terror when he turned to leave. You’ve come this far. Why not hear an old man out? Pax told it that it wasn’t an old man, that he didn’t give a shit either way, and it slid through a child, a monster, a sulphur-burned body coughing blood, his own shuddering form in armour he hasn’t seen in months, and it said please.)

(Regained its composure, its gentleman’s face, immediately afterward. But it – the Mad God, unknowable, inconsolable – said please. Pax still doesn’t know what to do with that.)

The Mad God, now, shrugs. Taps at the hairline cracks in the stained glass windows. “I’d prefer you didn’t,” it says, one pair of hands braiding something intricate into its beard. The hand on the glass slips down. “I told you. I do need a champion.”

“And I told you,” Pax bites, something aching and ugly surging in their gut, “not to call me that again.”

A smile, bloody-mouthed and beaming. “But we will abide,” says Sheogorath, and digs its fingers into the cracks of the stone. One brick slides loose, mortar dug up under its nails. It offers it up.

Pax licks their teeth and takes it.

The brick shivers, momentarily – crumbles, in their hand, like sand slithering through their fingers, and left in their palm is a hardy slip of bone. Spiked and sprawling, carved with intricate patterns; it arranges itself around an oval of empty space, the perfect size for four sharp-knuckled fingers.

“You can always leave,” the Mad God tells them, and for a moment it does look so very young and strangely, staggeringly hopeful. “But give it a chance. I think you could love the Isles, if you choose to.”

#for context - in my version of events sheogorath's recruitment of the HoK is a lot more active #it needs someone who can fulfill the metaphysical niche of the hero. it needs someone experienced enough that they might not even die tryin #and it needs someone desperate enough to take the deal #pax is fifteen years old has alienated everything that maybe could have been a support system and is grieving very badly.#perfect mantling material!!#so sheogorath pursued them very specifically and was very judicious about what they revealed when. which is why pax already has some kind o #relationship with it here - they've interacted before - in that for weeks pax's reflection has been constantly begging them to 'visit'#writing the interactions of these guys is a lot of fun because there is always so much sheogorath is keeping from pax. it is #extremely strategic in how it presents itself #and pax falls for it hook line and sinker. though we can't really blame them #it's hard to outsmart something that's in your head #and at this point pax is pretty much made up of their worst impulses #which sheogorath cannot and does not help with #see: this piece #“I would NEVER make you do something you don't want to do <3 if you'd like to go back to your miserable self-destructive hellscape that's #YOUR CHOICE. but wouldn't it be more fun to be regular destructive here... i made you brass knuckles... 🥺“#im obsessed with them #the elder scrolls #tesblr #tes #my writing #fay writes #oc tag #pax #oblivion #shivering isles #the shivering isles

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schemelin · 5 months ago

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every now and then i experience brief moments of self-awareness telling me to make major changes to the fusionsprunt story

#queue #maybe it has to do with this need of visualizing it as an actual tv show. it's not necessarily a bad thing #it's so much fun to question what would happen if a specific part was rewritten or twisted into smth else. how would it work and all #for example. i've been thinking. what if Hunter was an actual robot? how does his interaction with Exocannis and B2 change bcs of it? :0 #i dont think that part will be rewritten but it's an interesting possibility #one thing i wanted to change is Gideon's lore though!#the way he disregards B2 doesn't sit right w me (and ig it didn't with everyone else who read the lore)#also! there's not much info about his childhood. it was nice until BOO TRAUMAAA.#overall i wanted to introduce him some other way. the way Gideon Rigell would do!#perhaps with a little comic? a loose dialogue in an artwork of sorts #comparing him to who he is currently is like going. wow! good job buddy ur getting better! but also you should probably seek therapy...#as for B2. i have some ideas.#some times i enjoy exploring new designs in which she looks VERY non-human or has some sort of non-human mentality #a true alien!#i wanna redesign her siblings and make all of them have an 'x' somewhere in their names #what if Beatrix had 4 siblings? what if she was the 'youngest'? what if they were all created by the same person #a person who was responsible for their creation but who also treated them like their own children #some kind of enthusiastic visionary with a passion for robotics who genuinely cared for machines. even 'mindless' ones #Also B2's relation to the Holloway Comet #like no. that's the. that's The Mother. that's the mother guys that's UNQUESTIONABLE #im talking about Monument Mythos vibes yknow. about giant n terrifying monuments/objects #i'm also cooking up ideas for comics focused solely on Bee #oneshots of sorts.... i should probably start sketching......#why am i having good ideas when i barely slept last night HSBWYSBWHDBHQHASSHHA #starbstalks

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funeralprocessor · 1 year ago

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Art from Mundus Carnis, a geiger-esque biopunk worldbuilding project by Screeble on DA.

I'm a huge huge fan of their art and writing and worldbuilding, have been for years. They did some fantastic work in a collaborative spec evo forum game I lurked.

Which have lived in my head ever since.

#spec evo #spec bio #biopunk #worldbuilding #body horror kinda #and some of the other MC designs are...not very safe for work #or life #but that's a side effect of being Geiger inspired #screeble #deviantart #god primordial evo games were so fun and cool I would love to do one with some friends #started with some incredibly basic mspaint blobs as like the original organisms and each post could add a little more to one #eventually we got sophonts and societies and shit like the Lufae and their fungal biotech #I'm using we very loosely there I contributed like three posts before I got scared lol #but god I followed the threads religiously once they got going #and I've stolen stuff from them for my tabletop campaigns for years #the Lufae especially I immediately started using as my go-to underdark-y species #which makes their alien vibes that much cooler when compared to like...an elf

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torgawl · 8 months ago

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everytime i think about the new chapter the more and more i like it, it really consolidated yuuta and gojo's characters. the revelation of how the higher-ups were taken down and the set-up for the scene with gojo and yuuta's conversation about what their plan was for gojo's body, in case he lost, might just be the part i find most interesting. all in all, the chapter really highlights the underlying difference between the violence of oppression and the violence of resistence and revolution.

when it comes to yuuta and the archetype of his character he is the pure embodiment of love in the series. if yuuji is able to reach sukuna because he was one with him (love as oneness), yuuta's entire exitence has sorrounded love and, specifically, love as a curse. sukuna's surprise at yuuta's antics come from a place of not understanding love and therefore being unable to conceptualise that yuuta would go so far as betray his own humanity for it. he can't conceive how love can drive a person like yuuta, who's sweet and kind-hearted, to a place as cursed as this - emphasised by the sheer horror and heinosity that is seeing the usage of gojo's dead body with yuuta's innocent expression. but we know that yuuta's journey has always been marked by this concept of love as a curse, starting all the way back in jjk 0 where yuuta's unwillingness to let go of a deceased rika caused her to linger in the world in the form of a cursed spirit. one that yuuta learns to let go of by the end of the story. a lot of what he learns in that moment is about consent and mutuality in love (hence his domain expansion name), and although rika's soul passes and gets freed she is able to manifest her will into her vessel that continues to protect yuuta until this day. yuuta asking gojo for consent to use his body not only consolidates this mutual exchange and respect that he has for those he cares for - which are his main driving force - but is also exactly what separates him from someone like kenjaku, who body hops with total disregard for who they were originally. so there's that layer of irony behind yuuta having rika consume kenjaku to copy his technique and make use of it in a equally disturbing but more compassionate way. which in itself can serve to both question if intent plays a role in absolution and introduce, once again, the idea that humans and curses are not so different, as explored between mahito and yuuji in shibuya with them mirroring each other.

in regards to gojo i think his aknowledgement of his own inertia when it came to the revolution that he was leading was the cherry on top to consolidate who gojo really was as a person. gojo's greatest character flaw was arguably that he simply wasn't radical enough, allowing his students to be targets under the influence of the higher-ups. he had reasons not to kill them, as he explained before in the series, but he still failed to weight the consequences of his own actions and how no one is rewarded by working under a broken system. and i feel like having the youth he guided watching as he killed them is also quite significant as they're followers of this new revolutionary ideology.

i think the shock or impact these violent or twisted acts by the hands of those forced to survive within the status quo (like maki slaughtering her clan, gojo killing the higher-ups, yuuta taking over gojo's body) as a reaction to the violence they're subjeted to by this same system serves some purpose. and i think this is the reason the higher-ups are these anonymous faceless figures, barely-there personalities who have such a big influence in the lives of so many people. even in the real world, and we can think of systems like capitalism and how it exploits people in such a casual way and it relies on that exploration to survive, we sort of take for granted that violence coming from those institutions, having our attention driven away from the minority that's upholding these systems to other things instead. that violence is more "acceptable" because we've been conditioned to it whereas the violence in response to those acts is always met with more scrutiny. and that kind of contextualises why shoko and nanami, for example, much like gojo, aren't really revolutionary with their ideals either - or rather, do not get that priviledge. the difference being gojo was someone these higher-ups were actively afraid of, because if he wanted to, he could have done more. and that's exactly why the instant he was sealed it was the perfect opportunity for them to do whatever they could to prevent him from coming back and place new-drawn targets on the backs of the people gojo was protecting. the gruesome nature of maki slaughtering her clan or the off-putting way people react to yuuta discarding his own humanity and going against what he believes is right to make sure gojo's legacy continues is almost forcing this question of what are people willing to stomach in the name of survival and change.

gojo remembering geto in that crucial moment ("i was falling behind" or "i have to catch up") and just having in mind how they were both so young and naive is so incredibly bittersweet. geto had radical ideals, no matter how misguided. he looked at the world and he had this unshakeable conviction that things couldn't continue to be the way they were. he reached incredibly misplaced conclusions, yes, which came from a place of great pain and alienation, but gojo finally stepping forward to follow that same path, to be more radical, also sort of confirms that things could have been so different if only gojo had the same level of consciousness back then; that they could have found a way better solution together instead of the tragedy that ensued. the parallels between them add an extra layer of wistfulness to their bond, too. their fates have and always will be so intertwined, in such a beautiful and tragic way. and i think geto's unwillingness to force gojo to take a certain path will always be one of the biggest proofs of his love towards him. at the end of the day, even knowing gojo was who he was, geto always seemed to want to protect gojo's path from being stained like his.

at the core, jjk really is a story about revolution and humanity; a story about love and curses and how love is the most twisted curse of all (which has been reinforced over and over again). the fact some are rewarded and some are punished for taking certain paths under the same system is there to convey a very specific message. i really love the incorporation of eastern philosophies within the story and the role horror plays, too. the usage of the genre to deepen the impact of these themes and the way things are introduced with the intention to provoke almost visceral reactions in the readers (much like yuuta's own reaction) also makes the message much more impactful. i think this chapter was great!!!

#idk random rant because i really like 261 and my stsg heart is in shambles i adore them so much and they make me hurt so bad :')#btw people cancelling shoko and hating megumi is so silly #like idk characters aren't one dimensional and shoko much like gojo didn't seem to believe he would lose either #she can care about him and still place him in a pedestal one thing doesn't invalidate the other ashgdaj #she looked so freaking good in the chapter and people started hating her?! give her a break!!! she deals with death everyday since her #adolescence. it was also clearly not that serious?! i thought gojo's comment was lighthearted shdash #that hot woman is commiting medical malpractice and literally doing the impossible. that's so cool!!! feminism :3 let's focus on that #oky but seriously. people do care about gojo!!!#gojo himself doesn't really allow to think of himself as human not even posing the slight possibility of not getting out of it alive...#the power imbalance between him and everyone else except geto is the point #and it's why sukuna was able to have the most balanced fight with him in the first place because of the alienation power brings #can we talk about how yuuji casually asks gojo to put limitless down so he can touch him and yuuta loves gojo so much he is willing to let #go of everything to make sure he didn't die for nothing? he was not unloved. did you see everyone's proud faces cheering him on??#he's their pookie. a very annoying one but still a pookie #gojo satoru #okkotsu yuuta #jujutsu kaisen #jjk 💭

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