#and then at the last minute he was all

[toby-du-coeur]

yes devotion is our love language in so many ways

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing (so devoted the lines blur)

[hinamie]

I'll give them shelter like you've done for me

[egophiliac]

IT WAS ERIC AFTER ALL!!!! I'm so glad we got to meet him (before Vil snaps him away with those Infinity Gauntlets) (can't wait to see what happens when we get the matching Infinity Tiara to go with them, there will be no survivors)

(sorry to be so slow/rough lately, just got a lot of stuff on the ol' brain at the moment! alas, if only I could spend all my time drawing incredibly stupid characters I mean I do but)

[stil-lindigo]

the fox god.

a comic about a trickster.

--

creative notes:

–

all my other comics

store

[randomminty]

Five billion octopath 2 scribbles i feel sick

[krstsole]

Just wanna say that I think Ekko and Mel slander makes sense when you understand that 85% of the Arcane fandom views both of them as characters less worthy of fandom attention.

In their eyes, they are afterthoughts to more interesting relationships, so when someone in the 15% dares to give them anything outside of dutiful lamentations ("Mel and Ekko deserved better!"), they can't help but feel those analysis would be better suited for a character they *actually* like and so they lash out.

Fans of both characters have to constantly argue that these characters have loved and have been loved. They want Mel "independent" because she doesn't "need love" and they want Ekko focused on The Tree and the unnamed Firelights because they want it to be easier to carve both of them out of the interpersonal narratives that attaches fandoms to characters in the first place.

They want Mel and Ekko to "save the day" because they don't want their roles in the story to interfere with other characters that they like. Better for them to beat the Bad Guys™ than to be given more material that would validate their personal connections with other characters in ways that the fandom would prefer to ignore.

And the fact that Ekko and Mel are completely different characters who have never once interacted with each other and yet somehow both of them are being treated the same way with how the fandom constantly diminishes their relationships with the rest of the main cast leads me to believe that it does have something to do with the One Trait they do share.

[doctorsiren]

reigen you should tell him he’s not supposed to eat the green part

[lunacias]

(Silence. CARPENTER tries to rally HAYWARD's spirits. She's afraid she's going to lose him.)

"All three of us - we can all go on living, Hayward. Just like you said."

[sunderwight]

disciple luo binghe, running errands for his shizun one day, somehow manages to be in the exact wrong (right) place at the exact wrong (right) time and catches shang qinghua meeting with mobei jun

in order to keep luo binghe from tattling right away, shang qinghua dissembles in a panic and claims that his clandestine meetings with mobei jun are happening because they're lovers and definitely not because shang qinghua is betraying the sect and handing their secrets over to demons in order to save his own hide. when that almost doesn't work, he also tells luo binghe that he knows he's part demon, and that if luo binghe rats him out then shang qinghua will take him down with him. mutually assured destruction

it works, and even though luo binghe threatens him quite a bit (jeez kid calm down, you might be the almighty protagonist but also you're like sixteen) he agrees to keep shang qinghua's fraternizing a secret. but if ANYTHING BAD should happen to the sect or especially to luo binghe's shizun because of this, luo binghe will take shang qinghua down even if it does ruin his life too

shang qinghua, now sweating even more bullets about the impending immortal alliance conference: cool! cool cool cool sounds great cool yeah

so shang qinghua can add "being blackmailed by the punk ass brat I sort of created" to his list of stress-inducing woes. which gets even worse when luo binghe keeps somehow sensing if mobei jun is around for more than a couple hours and showing up, and picking fights with him?? kind of??

wtf has the protagonist been taking tips from liu qingge or something...?

shang qinghua feels like he's gonna have a heart attack when mobei jun just snorts and tosses luo binghe by the scruff like he's an annoying yappy dog

mobei jun actually knows what's up though. teenage half-demon who has never been around his own kind has become spoiled by the lack of competition on this front, and now his hackles are all up because he wants to claim the whole mountain range as his territory, and his instincts are screaming at him to challenge mobei jun about it so that they can decide who is actually top dog. since mobei jun could easily kill him, especially with his blood sealed, and has been clawing rocks and pissing on trees along the borders of an ding peak since before luo binghe was born, he's clearly got seniority here

and since qinghua doesn't want mobei jun to just kill the little shit (fair enough -- that sealed bloodline does look kind of interesting) that means it's up to mobei jun to teach him how to do things like interact with other demons without making a complete fool of himself. lesson one: what to do when you challenge someone out of your league and they win, assuming they don't just kill you

so luo binghe reluctantly gains another demon tutor

meng mo actually approves. he's been out of the loop on demon high society for a long time, and has lacked a body for long enough too that he's forgotten a lot of the particulars of socializing. it'll be good for luo binghe to pick up some manners that aren't just silly human tea ceremonies and things. maybe he'll start addressing meng mo more respectfully for a change!

(lol no)

luo binghe is partly like "I don't need to learn demon social skills since I'm spending the rest of my life as a disciple of qing jing peak" but partly like, well, if shizun knew about this and didn't freak out about it, he'd probably say that knowledge is power and learning how to handle politics and diplomacy of all kinds is important. and despite himself luo binghe is also interested, because this is a whole perspective on his own nature that he's never really gotten advice about

also, mobei jun is the lover of shang qinghua? mobei jun is a demon who successfully seduced a cang qiong peak lord? does he have any advice about that?

(he does -- all of it very bad)

anyway all of this sort of fucks up the immortal alliance conference developments really good, so the system kind of gives up and settles on some other big transformative achievements that luo binghe has to complete in order to be suitably heroic

but shen qingqiu has no idea and so the reprieve just seems to come out of nowhere until several years later, when he walks in on luo binghe with his claws out and huadian gleaming in the company the demon king of the northern desert, the two of them playing weiqi or something while they wait for shang qinghua to get back from some random logistics crisis he had to rush off to

shen qingqiu: ...?!?

luo binghe, panicking: wait shizun I can explain it's not what it looks like SHIZUN I SWEAR I WAS GOING TO TELL YOU PLEASE DON'T BE MAD--!

shen qingqiu: all this time I thought you were sneaking out to meet a girl, and this was what you were doing instead?!

luo binghe: WHAT?? shizun no I'd never do that I swear I don't even like girls!

shen qingqiu: that's not -- wait what do you mean you don't even like girls?!

mobei jun, unperturbed and still focused on the weiqi board: he's gay

[jeanmoreausautismstickers]

the most unfortunate thing about Neil josten is he likely just. fucking sits there on a plane.

no blanket, no pillow. he doesn't nap, he doesn't carry books because they don't fit in his little bad, he doesn't play on his phone or computer

he just sits and stares ominously at the back of the seat in front of him. the whole time.

[somegrumpynerd]

Texting the homies for help because you fell asleep and got turned into a living body pillow

[soupysundae]

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

[hinamie]

*catboys ur shounen protag*

[infernalwraths]

I just love how he builds up to the insult.

[superbat-love]

Superman crying because he wants to live with Batman, grow old together and be buried beside him

[starry-bi-sky]

fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.