#but if anyone wanted to draw this that would be cool

[brawberryz]

⎯⎯ㅤ Digital Girl

Batfam Yan! × Scene! Reader

| Platonic |

Note / English is not my first language / M.list

A / N | I don't know much about scenecore so this is just a very superficial view, if there are any mistakes please correct me (|||´Д｀) !!

TW / Yandere behavior, obsession, violence, toxic relationships, manipulation

Headcanon | How would they react to a scenecore batsis?

Character | Dick Grayson | Jason Todd | Tim Drake | Damian Wayne | Bruce Wayne

⎯ Bruce Wayne ★

He'd be surprised the first time.

Don't take this the wrong way, it's just...well, he's pretty new to all of this.

He tries to be an understanding father, but I feel like he'd be the kind of father who'd say it's all a phase; he just hopes this phase of yours doesn't last too long.

He's not a strict father (well, maybe a little, or maybe too much), but he wants you to understand that it's best for you.

He wouldn't like you to wear too many bracelets or bangles on your arms because he's afraid your skin would get irritated or leave marks.

He'd never forgive himself if something happened to his baby.

If you tried to dye your hair, his hair would be a big no-no.

He'd only let you dye your hair if you begged him all week and told him to let him choose the color and let him dye your hair.

There wouldn't be any problems with your way of dressing, although it would depend on how colorful and extravagant your outfits are.

Most of your family tends to wear dull, muted colors. You could only occasionally see Dick in a brightly colored shirt, but most preferred duller or less flashy colors.

That way, you'd definitely draw a lot of attention with your outfits.

If you two ever go to a gala, he WON'T let you dress like that. Look, he doesn't judge you (even if he does).

But he thinks you should find another, less flashy "style." He loves you the way you are, but sometimes he wishes you were as obedient as other young people.

He's afraid that at some point you'll become rebellious and escape his complete control.

He should, no, he needs to control everything about your life.

Even your style of clothing. He just wants you to be a normal child.

He knows how cruel the world is to people as different as you.

He's just in some kind of midlife crisis, and your teenage "rebellion" isn't helping much.

He'll get over it eventually

⎯ Dick Grayson ♥︎

He'd be the one who best handled this.

I get the idea that Dick also went through some emo or alt phase, so he's pretty understanding about this.

Most of your accessories, like bracelets and makeup, were bought or made by Dick.

He likes to sneakily create bracelets with his initials on them so others know who you are.

Even though he pretended to be a cool brother, he's just as possessive as the others.

Just because he was "nice" to you doesn't mean he won't manipulate you.

He'd take any opportunity to be around you.

Oh! You want to dye your hair? Don't worry, your brother Dick conveniently has the color you wanted!

You can dye your hair like him and match with him! He's the kind of guy who's very obsessed with your tastes.

He wants to be the best brother to you, so don't be scared because he's too intense.

Also, I think he'd listen to hyperpop just for you. It's not his type of music, but he'd just listen to it to spend time with you.

He's not the best, but at least he tries, umm...

⎯ Jason Todd ♣︎

He doesn't really care.

He'd be like,

"Oh, you're scene? Cool."

One of the things he'd be least bothered by is your clothing style or appearance.

I mean, as long as you don't do anything stupid, he wouldn't mind.

Although I think he'd buy hair dye in all sorts of colors and literally turn your hair into a fucking rainbow, just to piss off Bruce because he knows you're not allowed to dye your hair without Bruce's permission.

He'd kill anyone who dares say anything negative about you or make fun of how you dress.

He wouldn't allow any bastard to talk bad about his sister.

He'd listen to hyperpop while reading or doing some activity like reading or kicking criminals' asses. I think it would be pretty funny.

He'd probably only listen to it because you asked him to, but I think eventually he'd start to like that style of music, but he'd never say it out loud

⎯ Tim Drake ◆

He'll pretend he doesn't care, but he really cares.

I could say he's one of the most obsessive people; he knows everything about you.

Maybe he knows you better than you know yourself; he has a folder full of your interests or possible interests in a private file on his computer.

He'll spend hours on the internet searching for information about it. If he wants to get close to you, he has to be smart.

He's like a predator.

He analyzes his prey and then attacks.

I think his approach would be subtle. It has to be smart and not too aggressive. He doesn't want to scare you into thinking he's some kind of creepy guy (if he is).

I think he would start slowly, with small comments about your appearance.

"Oh! You look pretty nice today!" or "That shirt really matches your outfit!"

Then, make comments about your interests, and he'd start getting closer and closer to you. He's not like the others.

If he wants to have you in his hands, he'll have to do it slowly and calmly. He's very good at hiding his true intentions.

I think he'd spend hours trying to find the best hair dye for you. He doesn't want your hair damaged because you decided to buy a poor-quality one.

Also, if you want to take a picture, don't worry! He'll be your personal photographer.

He takes the best photos on your blog. He's always taking pictures of you secretly. I'm pretty sure he knows all your good sides.

The only reason he's interested in all of this is because of you.

He'll do anything to be near you, even if it means changing all his interests to match yours.

⎯ Damian Wayne ♣︎

He thinks it's ridiculous.

He'd make pretty offensive comments saying you look like a clown or some kind of Joker Jr.

He'd be the worst when it comes to this; he doesn't know what's so interesting about dressing like a walking rainbow.

Be prepared for the mockery and passive-aggressive comments (though they're more aggressive than passive).

Even if he'd eventually accept it, halfway.

Sure, he'd still think it's completely ridiculous and pathetic, but he'd only accept it because it's you (and deep down, he thinks some of your outfits are pretty cool).

But he still WON'T ALLOW anyone to make fun of the way you dress.

you still remember the time he got suspended for a week from school for hitting on a kid who said your way of dressing was stupid

He's the only one allowed to make fun of your ridiculous way of dressing.

Also, I think he'd be drawn to your bracelets and shoes, if you're the kind of people who wears those long shoes, I think he'd really like them.

He'd indirectly ask you to give him one of your bracelets because he thinks they're pretty. Maybe he'd give you some accessories like colorful belts or a hair accessory.

He'd really pay attention to your makeup; depending on how colorful or extravagant your makeup is, he'd like it.

He secretly listens to the music you recommend. No kidding, some of it is actually quite good, so he even put it on his playlist.

He's more or less supportive of all this. He's grateful that his jokes about your appearance have lessened.

Although he'll most likely continue to make jokes about your appearance when he gets bored of being a good person.

Hi, I'm back.

Sorry for not updating for so long. My health has been getting worse for weeks, and I've only recently recovered.

This is a late request, so I hope the anonymous person who requested this enjoys it.

I don't know when I'll update again because it's exam time and school is really giving me a hard time. Lolololol

[houseofshy]

My First Offering - An Embroidery

This is the jeans jacket I hand embroidered for the Sleep Token concert back in December 2024.

The project took me about 6 months to complete, with a longer break in between.

It was quite a process, which I will describe below, if anyone is interested in that. If there are still questions, don't hesitate to reach out and I will answer to the best of my abilities, as I am by no means a professional :D

So. It started out as a little thought. I have that old jeans jacket collecting dust in my closet, and I want to upgrade that. Said, done.

I get a cheap pack of embroidery needles, even cheaper embroidery floss (which I regretted at one point, but I will explain that later on) and an old embroidery frame from my mother-in-law.

And then it was go time.

I started tracing the big logo in the middle. Seeing as I have absolutely no talent in drawing, I'm very glad that tracing on a tablet is an option :)

Printing that out, I taped the shape to the middle of the back piece and drew along the rim with a heaterasable pen. You can get that at any store that sells those pens with a rubber tip to erase the ink :D

After that, I set out to embroider the entire logo. It is made entirely with a satin stitch.

If there is any interest, I can explain different stitches in a seperate post :)

That took about 2-3 weeks to finish, as I work full-time, and weekends sometimes as well. Also, let's be real, I was so very slow ! But when I finished, I was so proud of myself, as it was my very first piece.

But ever the over achiever, I let it sit for a few days, before I thought "I can do more."

So, back to planning.

I sampled a lot of patterns and decided for this. It looked cool, but I wasn't sure I would complete it in time.

However, my mom did a lot of things wrong, but she didn't raise a quitter, so I got my shit together and started this enourmous project.

I ordered transfer paper online and printed everything out on there. It sticks to the material, and you can embroider on it and wash it off when you are finished.

I started with the more simple patterns, as the glyphs or the vines. Looked pretty solid, and I was extremely satisfied with my work, as well as my gained skill and haste.

Now that was the problem.

It looked so pretty at this point to me, that I was afraid of messing it up, so I fell into a bad headspace and stopped working on it for at least 8 weeks.

By now, it was end of July, so time was running out fast, considering the biggest part, the mirrored roses, still had to be done.

I got my shit back together thanks to my bestie, and started a trail run for colour scheme.

I was so happy that it looked exaktly like I imagined, and got motivation from that.

ADHD hyperfocus ON !

So I embroidered...

And embroidered (with some cat cuddles)..

And I was finally done !!

Only to realise that I have to do it ALL again on the other side !

I was about to cry, because just one single double coloured rose head took about 5-6 hours to make.

One entire rose side took me 4 weeks to finish D:

So, in the warm summer evenings, I sat on the balcony and got to work.

At least I knew what to do now and didn't have to think about that anymore.

No think, just stitch.

And one month later, I was actually finished !!

By the end of September I was done, thankfully much earlier than anticipated.

Now I simply had to wash off the water dissolvable transfer paper.

I did handwash it, but there was some glue residue left, so I had to bite the bullet and put it in the washer.

Those thirty-something minutes were terror. I was afraid the stitches won't hold, or the residue won't come off.

But thankfully, it was alright, and I let it dry out in the sun.

Now I wear that jacket whenever I can !! I love it so much.

I got quite a few compliments, especially at the London gig.

But the best one was when I went shopping for more high quality floss in a local craft store, and older lady complimented the jacket, and told me she was happy that the youth keeps things like that alive.

So, I made it a permanent hobby and already started another project on here that I will want to update regularly.

Thank you for reading, and feel free to ask away :D

Ps.: If you read this far, maybe leave a humble like or reblog ? <3

Thank you; A. \(^o^)/

[fluentmoviequoter]

waves of feelings

Adam Karadec x fem!detective!reader request, brief angst to fluff, emotional vulnerability, 3.2k+ words

You don't realize that you like Karadec and he feels the same until Morgan points it out.

High Potential Masterlist | Directory | Request Rules

Karadec is pretty like the ocean during a thunderstorm. At first glance, it seems dark, dangerous, all choppy waves waiting to pull you under and sharp rocks. But, if you wait a moment, linger in the cool sand beneath the clouds, you can find peace in it. The grey clouds reflect off the dark blue water, painting the horizon in a mysterious yet mystifying collision of danger and growth, spouting from the same precipice.

“No, she’s gone,” someone says, drawing you from your daydream.

You blink, and the Major Crimes bullpen comes into focus as the image of sitting on a beach with Karadec fades to the back of your mind. Daphne and Oz are watching you, smiling as you try to catch up with the conversation.

“What?” you ask.

“Oz wanted to know if you had the security footage from the 7/11 across the street from our stabbing scene,” Daphne answers.

“Oh,” you murmur, shaking your mouse to wake your computer. “Yeah, I’ll forward it.”

“Thank you,” Oz says. “Care to share what you were thinking about?”

You shake your head as you focus on finding the video. “Just zoned out.”

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Daphne jokes. “Here I thought it was daydreaming.”

“Fine,” you sigh, smiling over your shoulder at her. “I was on a pretty beach, far from murder and mayhem, with nothing on my mind but the beauty in front of me.”

Daphne nods as she pulls herself back to her desk, reaching for a lollipop. “Better answer. Which beach? Bahamas?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Daphne sighs, then begins typing, drawn back into the real world. You’re lucky to have this team, you think. You can joke with each other and have fun, but you’re also there for each other when things turn serious. This job is hard enough as it is, and you can’t imagine doing it with anyone else.

“Shouldn’t Karadec be back by now?” Oz wonders.

“He’s with Morgan,” Daphne reminds him.

“Yeah, so however long it would take Karadec, double it and add half an hour,” you add.

“What’s the half hour for?” Morgan asks as she enters the bullpen.

“Fun facts, sightseeing, replacing the lollipop you stole,” Daphne lists.

“Hey, I apologized.”

“Doesn’t replace it,” you muse.

You spare a glance at Karadec, then turn back to your computer. He’s been different lately, and not just because of Morgan. Or maybe it is because of Morgan. Either way, you think he’s found something or someone that has made his life different. You’re happy for him, of course, but you can’t help but wonder why you don’t have that. Flexing your fingers over your keyboard, you remind yourself to focus, then open the video feed from a traffic camera less than a mile from the crime scene.

“Find anything?” Karadec asks, stopping beside your desk.

“The 7/11 had Monster energy drinks on sale,” you answer, leaning back to see him. “Four cans for $5.”

“Ooh,” Oz murmurs. “I might need to find a 7/11.”

“There are approximately 1,900 7/11 stores in California,” Morgan informs, perching on the corner of Karadec’s desk. “Or one store for every 21,000 people.”

“That’s a lot of stores that don’t even sell the best sour candy,” Daphne says.

“TOD was around 11, right?” you check. Karadec nods, so you continue, “Two cars drove by at a high rate of speed at 10:23 p.m., heading toward the scene. I’m trying to find them on other cameras to see if maybe they stopped around there.”

“Good work,” he applauds, nodding. “Let me know.”

“Sure,” you agree, releasing a breath when he steps away.

“Morgan and I found the store where he bought the knife,” Karadec says. "A hunting and fishing store in Rancho Cucamonga confirmed that the knife was purchased there. Apparently, they’re the only seller in the contiguous U.S., and it isn’t sold online in the states. Their legal team is prepping a list of buyers to send over.”

“Doesn’t narrow it down much,” Oz responds.

Karadec shakes his head, his gaze wandering to you. You’ve been distant lately, distracted. He'd ensure you were okay if he could find the right time or place. At the end of the day, when you all go home and the cases are supposed to be pushed out of your mind until you return to work or catch a break, he realizes that it isn’t his business. Karadec has enough going on in his life that it’s easy to forget to wonder about you when he actually has time to slow down and think. Like now, this stabbing case is familiar, almost too familiar, so when he looks away from you, that worry disappears, and he begins analyzing his own past for an idea of why he can’t seem to move past this stall point in the investigation.

“Still a John Doe?” Morgan inquires.

“Oh!” you exclaim, glancing at the clock above Karadec’s head. “I have to go. Meeting with the ME.”

“Need a second set of eyes?” Morgan offers.

“I’m okay,” you answer, gathering your things. “Thanks.”

After you leave, it’s as if a scale has been removed from Karadec’s eyes. Everything is a little clearer, the pieces of the puzzle fit together, as he opens the case file and turns his back to your desk.

While you’re gone, Karadec remembers why the case seems so familiar, why it’s bringing up memories of his field training days. He realizes that the sudden influx of nightmares must be related. Turning toward Oz and Daphne, Karadec prepares to tell them what he knows.

“My first year on the job, there was a series of stabbings,” Karadec begins. “Every victim was left on the side of the road with no wallet, no keys, and no clues as to how they got there.”

“A serial killer?” Daphne asks.

“The Rager,” Morgan says, snapping as she remembers. “They discovered the victims were run off the road and attacked by a man with intense road rage.”

“Right,” Karadec replies. “The speeding cars in the 7/11 video could indicate a similar situation.”

“Is the original killer still in prison?” Oz wonders. “If he got out, started driving again… could be the same guy.”

“He died,” Morgan answers. “Prison riot a few years ago, he was stabbed, passed away the next day. Right?”

Karadec nods, tapping his fingers on his thighs. In his nightmares, people he cares about turn up dead, killed in different ways by the criminals he’s locked up over the years. The vengefulness of wrongdoers has permanently marred his mind. If he had a chance to work some of his past cases again, he’d approach them differently. Maybe this is that chance.

Looking toward your desk, he asks, “Did the traffic cams show anything close to the scene?”

“Closest one was a half mile away, between the scene and the 24-hour grocery store east of it,” Oz replies.

“So, the other side of the 7/11. If the same car or cars passed it, we could get some more information.”

“How did the Rager get rid of the other cars?” Daphne asks.

“He came back for them,” Karadec answers. “Had a friend bring him back, claiming he was picking it up for a friend with a car repo business or something. It was a different time.”

“Exactly,” she agrees. “Today, you can’t just leave a car on the side of the road without someone taking notice.”

“Two killers,” you announce, returning from the ME’s office. You drop your bag in your chair and lean over your desk to pull up the video from the traffic camera. “I’d be willing to bet that we’ll see both cars driving by, going the speed limit, not riding each other’s tails, just going.”

The team gathers around your monitor as you press play, and it’s just as you suspected. You replay the clip, then pause it as the second car enters the frame.

“The bumper is damaged,” Morgan realizes. “They ran him off the road, killed him, then took his car.”

“Run the plates, Oz,” Karadec instructs. “Find our victim’s name and who own the killer’s car.”

“ME confirmed that the stab wounds were inflicted by two different people,” you say. “Likely one man and one female.”

“Nice work,” Karadec applauds.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Oz calls. “Killer’s car is registered to Rager’s nephew.”

Lying sideways across your bed, you let your head hang partially off the side, your hair loose and cascading toward the floor. You move your feet to the rhythm of your favorite song, playing on repeat as you try to clear your mind.

Across town, Karadec looks out of his window, spinning a glass between his hands as he pretends he can see the stars past the smog and city lights. The case is closed, so he could probably sleep without nightmares tonight, but his mind won’t quiet. It’s been years since he worked the Rager case, but he feels like he’s in the same place, back at the beginning, stuck in a continuous cycle.

He looks at the clock as your song ends, and you both sigh before you stand. Sleepless Los Angeles nights call for one of two things: finding someone to spend it with, or a midnight walk on the beach with a prayer you don’t get caught while it’s closed to the public.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you exclaim, pulled from your wonderings about why your life looks so much different than you imagined it would.

Karadec turns away from the ocean, facing you as your mind reminds you of what you’d thought about this morning.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he guesses, walking toward you.

“I’m surprised any of us can these days,” you muse, forcing yourself to look at the dark waves rather than Karadec.

“What’s your excuse? You closed the case, you should be taking a victory nap,” he teases.

You scoff, walking slowly beside him, dragging your feet through the loose sand. “Right, because solving a case is the key to turning your mind off. If that were true, you would never complain about sleep deprivation.”

“Those complaints are our right as detectives,” he argues.

“You… you might have a point there.”

Karadec shakes his head, a close-lipped smile gracing his features as the lights of a pier come into view.

“Come out here often?” he asks.

“Not as much as I used to,” you admit. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately – too much, maybe. The waves drown out some of those thoughts.”

Karadec nods. “Yeah, I’m sure you have a lot to think about.”

“What does that mean?” you inquire, laughing.

“I mean, look at you,” he says, gesturing toward you as if he answered your question.

“I’d prefer not to,” you reply.

“Seriously,” he continues. “You’re a good detective, got a stable job, a nice place to live, you’re pretty. Other than the hazards of our job, you’ve got it pretty good.”

“Yeah,” you agree facetiously. “If that were true, I’d be in a committed relationship, not considering adopting a cat just so I’m not completely alone between shifts.”

“Better to be alone that haunted by past arrests in your dreams,” Karadec murmurs.

You quiet, letting your smile fall as you nod. He’s right, of course, but there has to be a halfway point, where the good and the bad outweigh each other and everything is at the very least okay.

“What do you normally do on beach nights?” you inquire.

“Besides avoiding the patrol trucks?” Karadec counters.

“Obviously.”

“Usually go get coffee or something, stroll through a neighborhood.”

“Okay, midnight coffee is terrible for you, and I’m going to assume that you stroll through a moderately safe neighborhood.”

Karadec shakes his head. “Then what do you do? If my routine is so bad.”

You smile, pointing towards a break between beachfront buildings. “I’ll show you.”

Sitting across from Karadec, you lean back against the cracked red vinyl. The table between you is inlaid with newspapers and magazines from the 1900s, and Rhythm of the Rain by The Cascades plays on the jukebox by the door.

“I thought coffee was a no go,” Karadec says, opening the menu.

“We’re not here for coffee,” you argue.

“Hey, sweetie,” the singular waitress working at midnight greets. “The usual?”

“Yes, please,” you reply, smiling kindly. “And the same for my friend.”

“You got it.”

“The usual,” Karadec repeats. “My midnight go-to is unhealthy, but you can go to a diner every night.”

“You’re very judgy for someone getting a free treat,” you muse.

“I can pay for it.”

You wave, glancing out the window as you fold a napkin on the table.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Karadec invites.

“Not at all. Do you?”

He shakes his head, and you sit in comfortable silence until two bowls piled high with vanilla ice cream are delivered to your table. A long plate with various toppings accompanies them, and you smile as you say, “Thank you.”

“Midnight sundaes,” Karadec says, his brows lifted. “Much healthier than coffee.”

“You’re just jealous I thought of it first.”

It’s nearing two a.m. when you exit the diner and stop out into the parking lot.

“I’m a mile that way,” Karadec says, pointing straight ahead.

“I’m a mile that way,” you reply, pointing over your shoulder.

“Come on,” he invites as he begins walking.

“I just said I’m the other way,” you argue, following him anyway.

“It’s a mile regardless. This way, you don’t have to walk alone at this hour, and I’ll drive you back.”

“But I was walking alone before I found you,” you point out.

“Which is terrible for you,” Karadec deadpans, drawing a chuckle from you as you jog to catch up with him.

The following morning at work, which is only a few hours after you left Karadec, you feel oddly rested. You’ve still got a lot on your mind, but it doesn’t seem as pressing anymore, and you can see where you’ve succeeded in life. Like midnight sundaes, a brilliant advancement from your college years. Karadec comes into the bullpen while you’re scrolling on your phone, and he’s clearly thinking too, not greeting his team as he usually does.

“Are we case-free right now?” Morgan asks. “This is weird, right?”

“It’s never long,” Oz assures her. “We’ll get a call soon.”

“While we’re waiting,” Daphne begins, smiling at you.

You lock your phone and pinch your brows as you say, “I don’t like your tone, Daph.”

Karadec unlocks his computer, then turns his chair, looking between you and Daphne.

“I want to set you up with this guy I know,” she explains. “You’re single, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer slowly. “But I don’t think I want to date anyone right now. I… It’s not the right time.”

“Unless it’s Karadec, of course,” Morgan interjects.

Your eyes widen as you look at her, and Karadec clenches his jaw so hard you can see the muscle in it tighten.

“What?” you whisper.

“You like Karadec,” Morgan says, lifting her hands. “He likes you. You like each other.”

You look away from Morgan, your eyes bouncing left to right as you think. You’ve been evaluating every area of your life over the last few weeks, picking apart your feelings to find what was missing. It makes sense now that you somehow brought Karadec into every musing. When you thought about needing a break, Karadec was on the beach with you, a lighthouse in your storm. When you considered your career success, Karadec was solving cases beside you. It’s so obvious now that Morgan has said it. You like Karadec.

Karadec watches you as you think. He’s more composed following Morgan’s intrusion into your private life, thinking about all the instances in which you invaded his thoughts. After a nightmare, he’d open your text thread, type a message, then delete it, opting to sit with himself and feel hopeless until the sun rose on a new day. Even last night, you’d been on his mind as he stared out at the ocean and asked himself if he was doing a good enough job as head detective.

“I’m going to take this as a no,” Daphne drawls, sitting back in her seat.

“Morgan, I think you broke them,” Oz chides, looking between you and Karadec.

“Gillory,” Karadec begins. “We’re at work. There is never a time or a place for you to interject yourself into your personal lives.”

“Got it,” she replies, nodding. “I won’t be so blunt next time.”

“I just said-" Karadec cuts himself off with a sigh, closing his eyes as he shakes his head.

“I- I’ll be right back,” you murmur before you stand. In the privacy of the bathroom, you look at yourself in the mirror. You’d convinced yourself that Karadec would never like you, and it didn’t take much. Then, you let yourself believe that your entire life was running off the rails. Maybe if you’d just admitted that you had feelings for Karadec, you could have solved cases faster because you wouldn’t have been so easily distracted.

Rushing back into the bullpen, you don’t notice how Oz, Daphne, and Morgan look up, wide-eyed and ready to eavesdrop on whatever moment you and Karadec are about to have.

“We need another case,” you declare. “I think we can crack a cold case.”

Karadec watches you for several breaths, then asks, “Did you have coffee while you were gone?”

“No, that’s your thing,” you reply, smiling. “Tell me I’m wrong. This team can do it, and we don’t have anything else to do today.”

Karadec can’t interrupt you to say that Morgan was right, not with the others watching, so he smiles and agrees. Morgan already has a cold case in mind, and the board is filled with details as you talk everything over, sparing glances at Karadec every chance you get.

You knock on Karadec’s door long after the sun goes down and a cold case has been reopened, solved, and closed. In your cooler, you’ve brought ice cream, your favorite sundae toppings, and everything you saw Karadec use last night. You need to talk, need to clear the air, and address what Morgan pointed out today, but there’s no movement inside, no answer to your knocks. Letting your smile fall, you wonder if Morgan was wrong. The thought doesn’t linger long before the elevator opens and someone clears their throat behind you.

Turning, your smile returns when you see Karadec lift a grocery store bag.

“You weren’t at home,” he says.

“You weren’t either,” you reply softly. “I, uh, I brought sundaes.”

“I brought coffee.”

You scrunch your nose, and he steps past you to unlock the door. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

He pushes the door open, and you step inside, looking around as he sets his bag on the counter. Karadec takes the cooler from your hand, pulls the ice cream out, and sets it in the freezer.

“Morgan was right,” you blurt out. “About me liking you. I guess I didn't realize because I was caught up in the waves of my own feelings - trying to keep them from pulling me under.”

Karadec pushes the freezer closed before he returns to your side. Standing in front of you with only inches separating you, he raises his hand to your face. His touch is warm and gentle, his hand strong and calloused.

“I get it. Don’t tell her, but Morgan was right about more than you liking me,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you as he kicks the front door closed.

[lavenderfairiez]

Frank: Jason, why does Leo call you "babygirl"?

Jason: ...

Jason: how about we stop talking for a while

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

"You and me, Ethan. Together we go save Rose, and then we can grind Miranda into paste!"

[brainmuncher]

Visiting an old friend

The whole way to Bludhaven Danny kept on telling himself that surely he’d made a mistake. He knew he could be impulsive sometimes but flying to Bludhaven on a rumor? He felt like he was a teenager all over again.

It’d been some dumb article he’d found while trying to focus on editing the design of a Fenton battery. It was a Bludhaven paper he’d forgotten to unsubscribe to that sent him a breaking news email. He used to eat up those papers, glad to have any way to see how his old friend was doing, but now it just felt suffocating to remember. He’d almost deleted it without even opening it, but some nagging feeling told him he should open it. He never would've expected to open it to a new blurry photo of a figure in blue, soaring above on the rooftops.

He barely got a couple of sentences into the article claiming that Nightwing could be back before he shot out of his apartment. Ever since that day when he watched invisibly as his coffin was laid in the ground he searched for Dick’s ghost. But no ghost this new could control their appearance that well. Colors were some of the hardest to control after all. So Dick could be… he really could be…

After that, the rest of the flight was much more nerve-wracking. He hadn’t ever met the other bats, but he knew that they could have some interesting rouges. Some kind of convoluted plan might have been behind all of this. Maybe someone was impersonating him? Or maybe some other blue vigilante has taken up Bludhaven… Was one of Dicks siblings taking over the Nightwing name? That last one was quickly shot down though. He saw how distraught the group was, he doubted if they would’ve even been able to touch the suit without breaking inside.

So all that led him to now, standing outside Dicks apartment building. Before they lost touch this was the place Dick told him he could go if he ever needed help. And seeing the lit-up rooms from the outside, Danny knew that at least someone had to have been there.

For the sake of normality, Danny decided to take the stairs within the building to Dicks floor. It definitely wasn’t because he was nervous or anything… it had nothing to do with that at all. Although the stairs seemed to reach the top quicker than he expected. 

He walked up to the apartment number that he was told about. A snarky ‘This house has gone 0 days without a pun’ welcome mat sat outside the door. The joke actually helped Danny calm down a bit, breathing in a deep breath of the slightly dusty hallway air before letting it out again. Without further ado, he rapped his knuckles on the hardwood door. Internally he winced at the loud noise. It was much later at night than any normal person would be awake. If someone was here and had a good sleep schedule then Danny probably just woke them up.

A few minutes passed by before his hearing picked up movement in the apartment. One part of him jumped in excitement, while the other sank with anxiety. Was that Dick? Or was it one of his siblings? Damn, Danny should have gone through with this invisibly, that way if it is one of the siblings he won’t have to face them. But it was much too late for that now, he knew that there had to be at least one camera facing him right now. Maybe he can just pretend to be lost? But then why would he climb up so many floors just to ask for directions? He really should’ve thought this through…

Before he could sink any lower into his panic the door let out a click of a lock. Momentarily frozen, he watched as the door slithered open without so much as a creak. To his amazement, the Dick Grayson stood staring back. He looked tired and was dressed in comfortable civilian clothes, but it was Dick. Before anything could be said Dicks eyes went down to look into Danny’s. His eyebrows creased in confusion, no doubt surprised by the random visit.

“Danny?” Dick questioned, his voice sounding a bit rough around the edges.

Danny couldn’t help the disbelieving smile from creeping up on his face.

“Hey Dick,” He spoke, his grin never leaving his face. “I’ve really missed you.”

A small breathy laugh of shock left Dicks lips as he looked down at Danny. He loosened his stance at the door, seeming to relax now that he knew who was there. Danny couldn’t help but feel bad at the scare he must have given the other. 

“I hadn’t thought we’d be seeing each other again. It’s been…” 

Years, Danny finished in his head. We haven’t seen each other in years.

They initially met on the streets funnily enough. Danny had been on the run from the GIW and Dick had been freshly fired from Robin and kicked out of the manor. Not that either one knew that much of each other at first. Danny had been hiding in a warm corner of a building when Dick bumped into him trying to find a warm place to stay as well. Danny offered for him to stay, not seeing any danger in letting someone around his age stay with him. After that things got revealed slowly, like Dick realizing that Danny wasn’t just homeless, he was hiding. And Danny noticing the odd skills that Dick had and the way the other held himself back in other situations. Slowly their secrets were shared with each other… and they found that they didn’t mind.

Eventually, they drifted apart though. Jazz and his friends finally found a way to create him a safe identity and eventually, he enrolled himself in college, deciding to take a break from Phantom for a while. Dick ventured out and created the Titans, even forging a new hero identity for himself as Nightwing. They slowly just stopped talking to one another after that. Not out of malice or anything, but just because they got busy. Life took over. It was only when a life was taken away, that Danny frantically tried to find out what happened to his friend.

But now that he’s here in front of him… He’s noticing the same things he’d seen from when they were on the streets. Dick had bags under his eyes like he was watching the candle burn at both ends and doing nothing to stop it. His clothes weren’t just baggy, they were unwashed. There was a faint toothpaste drop on his shirt that had been attempted to be rubbed off… but to no avail. His hair was shiny with unwashed grease and grime. And his face… He didn’t look like he was eating enough.

Like a truck had hit him, Danny suddenly found himself much less happy than he was before. Something was wrong with his friend. And if the crystae around the grave that Nightwing was supposedly buried were any indication… then… 

Danny straightened his stance subconsciously. It seems like he was due a serious conversation with the other.

“Can I come in? I’d rather not have this kind of conversation in the hall,” Danny asked awkwardly, looking around himself as if there was another person that he could see.

To Danny's concern, Dick’s body tensed up at the prospect of letting him in. He swore he saw Dick grimace at that for a split moment before a plastered-on smile was on his face. Nonetheless, Dick opened the door with much less bravado than he would’ve years ago and waved him in.

“Welcome to my abode,” he tried to joke, but the tone felt forced.

Danny didn’t understand why the other had looked that way until he walked through the doorway. While he may be no Kryptonian with insane super everything, he did have enhanced senses. And every single one of those senses went off like a bomb when he walked into the apartment. There were dirty dishes and clothes haphazardly left around collecting mold and mildew. He could see a portion of the Nightwing suit stuffed into a corner like Dick had tried to hide it from his sight. There were more than a few bottles of soda and coffee mugs spread across the room, some carrying a scent that Danny could live without. Then there was a shattered photo face down on the side of the room, glass still spread around the frame like a horrific halo. 

But the worst was probably the energy of liminal surrounding the whole place. The emotional energy within it was heavy, grief and desperation covering every inch. Everything just screamed pain pain PAIN PAIN-

Danny had to close his eyes, steeling himself against immediately answering the cry. It went against his very core to go against the cry for help but he knew he’d only make things worse if he dived straight in. Dick wasn’t one to accept help easily. He’d shown that multiple times in his various rants about Bruce’s attempts to help as Robin. Instead, he had to go about this differently.

“Man, you almost outrank me in the messy department,” Danny tried to joke instead.

He turned to look at Dick who finished locking his apartment back up against intruders. Hopefully, his eyes weren’t glowing from the intense cries his core was trying to fight against. Dick seemed to attempt to go with the jab, his smile not looking all there.

“I doubt that. I'm not the one who lost his phone and found it in his shin,” Dick replied, settling himself further into the apartment. 

Danny scoffed, waving his hand in the air like he could physically wipe away the comment. Slowly they started to migrate to where the couch was. There were blankets and pillows at the end like Dick would fall asleep there. Judging by the open case files on the table in front of it, he didn't sleep on purpose. 

“I actually keep it in my arm now. Much more convenient,” Danny winked, hopping on the couch and letting himself bounce on the spring underneath. “Although I do keep everything else in my haunt. I can make little portals now!”

Without further notice, Danny opened one of the said portals with his hands. As he hoped, although in any other circumstance, he normally wouldn't, a group of blob ghosts were near his things. A couple of them filed through the gap, chirping up at him. However, that sense of play quickly left them as they felt the energy around the place. Silently they flew away, off to do what they do best. 

Danny saw a twitch of a real smile for a second on Dicks face. Although it was quickly shut down like a sour memory. Like he was trying to escape it, Dick joined him on the couch, sitting a whole cushion away. 

“Should I be worried about them?” Dick motioned his chin towards the silent blobs making their way into his things.

Danny waved them off, still playing into his old impulsivity. He wasn't nearly as bad as he was as a teenager, but Dick didn't have to know that yet. Dick gave a skeptical look at him, watching as one of the blob ghosts swallowed one of the dirty cups whole.

“They're like bottom feeders in a fish tank. At most, you'll just find less dirt around. At the least… you might gain a cuddle buddy,” Danny hummed, watching the same blob from before sneeze and drop a perfectly polished cup back out.

At that, Danny could see Dick turn to look at him in his peripheral vision. Turning to join him in looking right at one another he could see Dick staring at him. Dick held a look on his face that Danny couldn’t uncover. His eyes wandered over Danny’s face like he was searching for something. But the rest remained perfectly blank. It reminded Danny of when they were still teens, trying to see if they could trust one another. Dick had given a similar look then before he'd nodded and sat down to talk. Hopefully this time it'll be no different. 

Although, Danny doesn't know how to feel when Dicks face shuts down a little. He can feel the exhaustion in the air. Somehow he feels like he just failed whatever Dick was searching for.

“Danny, why are you really here?” Dick asked finally.

The question was so out of the blue, and the answer so obvious. Danny couldn’t help the way his head tilted in confusion, not understanding why such a thing had to be asked. This wasn’t at all how he had planned for their conversation to go. He had wanted to keep things light so that the emotions wouldn’t make Dick clam up… or lash out. His next words need to be chosen carefully…

“Because I was concerned. One of my good friends just came back from death and I needed to make sure you were ok. Dying isn't an easy thing to process,” Danny spoke carefully, his own experience trickling into his mind.

The words seemed to make Dick even more defensive. It was exactly the thing Danny had been trying to avoid. But despite everything his efforts still led him to this moment. Dick had his guard up, his eyes glaring into Danny’s core.

“Well I'm alive,” Dick spoke with terseness, “so why are you still here?”

“Because I care about you,” Danny reiterated, his confusion turning over into concern. “Dick, you died. That type of thing sticks with you. I'm not about to leave you to deal with that alone.”

Dick scoffed. He readjusted himself on the couch, sliding a bit farther from Danny. At this point, he was almost leaning on the edge. The physical representation of the distance between them hurt more than Danny was willing to admit. He hadn’t had Dick run from him before.

“Ignoring me for years is one hell of a way to show it,” Dick bit back.

A wave of annoyance hit Danny from the comment, but he instead closed his eyes and ignored it. Dick used to do this constantly when they were young. He'd use a healing mental wound to pick at to bring the other person away from his own hurt. Except Dick made the mistake of using it too many times on Danny in the past. He was old enough now to stop and learn from what he was trying.

Letting out a breath of air, Danny looked up into Dicks eyes. He could feel the pain all around him. The wails of someone touched by death echo all around. This wasn't something he could let go. No matter how much Dick tries to push him away, he isn’t going to go anywhere.

“Dick, I'm not asking you to tell me what happened… or even how you came back. I would know more than anyone how painful it can be to relive those memories. I'm just asking for you to let me stay and help you. You're not okay.”

If Danny's words made an impact on Dick, he sure as hell didn't show it. He looked away from Danny’s eyes, instead staring at something far off. His movements seemed almost robotic. Like there was some kind of memory playing in his head that Danny couldn’t see.

“Whoever said I died? I went undercover Danny. Nothing happened. Nothing to talk about.” Dick spoke with a scarily devoid tone of voice, almost like he was reciting someone else.

Danny couldn’t stop the scoff from coming out of his mouth. Dick looked his way again, seeming to be surprised at the action. As if he could simply lie his way out of death. Danny tried the denial shtick. You can only tell yourself it was nothing for so long before you realize that not breathing in your sleep is probably a sign. 

“Dick I saw your grave. I don't know the details because I wasn't exactly invited, but I saw the crystae flowers blooming around the dirt. Those only bloom around memorials for the dead,” Danny explained carefully, watching as Dick looked more and more like he'd panic. “Even now I can feel death's touch on you. Your place is soaked in liminal energy… I can feel that you're in pain.”

Danny was a little hesitant to reveal that last bit but knew that Dick would pick up on it eventually. Especially with Danny sticking around, that liminality would only get stronger. That's just how ectoplasm is. It won't stick onto a healthy person unless they've already been exposed to it. Depending on how long Dick had been dead, it might be more attracted to him.

Although now Danny couldn’t help but feel awful about it as he saw Dick flounder. He at least took his time in coming to terms with his death, he should've known an emotionally repressed bat wouldn't be able to handle it all at once. Danny tried to reach out a hand, as something for Dick to physically hold onto to stay in the present. But in a moment of fear, Dick slapped it away. He jumped up from his spot on the couch, never looking at the same spot for more than a couple of seconds. 

“Dick I'm sor-” Danny tried to apologize but Dick started to do a panicked angry rambling right over him. 

“No! It doesn't count. I didn’t die. My heart only stopped for a couple of minutes. I was fine. Everything is fine!” He tried to reason to himself, his pacing taking a hysterical turn.

Danny winced at that. It doesn't matter how long you die. Ectoplasm doesn't care about that, only that you have some kind of exposure to it. Even in the first seconds of death you already create the energy for ectoplasm in the body. How much was created, and how much was in the air already, is what determines if you become a ghost. It's a natural part of life.

“Dick please,” Danny began again, but was stopped by Dicks piercing stare.

“I didn't die, Danny. I didn't die because that would mean he was right and I can't-” 

Dick let out a noise somewhere between a gasp for air and a dry sob. It tore at Danny's core to hear but considering how Dicks reaction to the last time he tried to reach out went, he stayed in place. One of the blob ghosts must have felt his pain, rushing over and chirping into Dicks chest. It caught the other off guard long enough to stop and take a few ragged breaths of air. The blob continued its chirping assault of cuddling into Dicks chest while the other refused to look at Danny. But in that moment Danny couldn’t have felt any more thankful for the blobs and didn't mind if Dick needed a moment. So they sat there for a moment, Dick sitting in his emotions and Danny waiting for him to calm down. 

The air was charged with a tone of sorrow. It was the kind that Danny was all too familiar with. It was the kind that left you feeling that there was no chance for your life to be happy again. The kind where everything felt like it had fallen apart all around you with no hope of it being repaired. It tore at Danny’s heart that Dick of all people was left to feel this way. Where were all the people that should be here supporting him? Where was his family in all of this? Surely Danny can’t be the only one to see the pain Dick is in.

“How…”

Danny looked up at Dick who seemed to be at a loss of what to say. He wasn’t looking up at him at all, only absentmindedly playing with the blob curled against his chest. 

“How did you get over it?” Dick spoke again, now looking up at Danny with an unsure gaze. “How can you just go on with your life without it constantly playing in the back of your head?”

Danny pursed his lips, knowing that his answer wasn’t one that Dick would like. Just at the action alone, he could see the little hope in the other's eyes die out. He once again turned his head to the blob ghost. With a gentle hand, Dick pets the back of the ghost's body.

“I’ve never gotten over my death. With help from my friends and sisters, I was able to accept it and heal from it… but I can never forget it,” Danny spoke solemnly.

He couldn’t help but notice the way Dicks petting movements momentarily paused at the mention of his support. It sent an alarm of concern through Danny. While he was here he couldn't believe that things could get so bad around here. There was just too much time in the layers of sadness and grime for this to be new. So why hasn't anyone tried to stop it and help? There was a disturbing painting being made before his eyes. For the sake of the heroes on this planet, he sure hopes his suspicion is wrong.

“But I promise you, Dick, that this is not the end. It might not seem like it, but things will get better,” Danny promised, something he didn’t take lightly. “I will be here to do everything I can to help you heal.”

Dick didn’t say anything back for a long time. He simply played with the blob on his chest, flicking its tail side to side in between his fingers. The blob certainly didn’t seem to mind, blubbering little chirps to itself. Neither did Danny, who could see that this was a bit too much at once for Dick. 

“Are you still retired?” Dick asked eventually, looking up at Danny with a begging look.

It was one that Danny could recognize. One that was asking for them to try and pretend that nothing was wrong. To give him time to break away from reality and think things over with himself. So Danny let the conversation lead off. It would just be more damaging than helpful to continue on this path. So, conceding to Dicks wordless pleas, Danny let it go.

“Technically. But I wouldn’t mind going back out again if it means I can work with the great Nightwing,” Danny smiled, hoping to bring back the light atmosphere of before.

It seemed to work if the small smile that Dick gave was any indication. Danny hadn’t realized how happy he would be to see a real, albeit small, smile from the other again. Giving a last pat on the blob ghost's head, Dick walked over to where half of the Nightwing suit was discarded.

“Then I hope you still have your spirit,” Dick quipped back, stepping away towards a hallway. “Cause I won’t be going easy on you old man.”

Danny scoffed at the old nickname, jumping off the couch in fake offense. Although it was much too late to say anything about it before Dick scampered down the hall. He could hear a door open and close, signaling Dick is putting his suit on. Danny doesn’t envy the suit that Dick has to put on. Who would’ve thought that putting on a skin-tight suit might take someone a bit?

Luckily Danny didn’t have to even lift a finger. Letting out a breath he let the cold of his core take over, feeling a rush of weightlessness hit him. Knowing that he still had plenty of time to wait for Dick, Danny turned and opened another temporary portal. This time he had opened it directly to his keep, spotting Fright Knight in the distance.

“Frighty,” Danny called into the portal, half laughing to himself as the said knight nearly jumped. “I need a favor from you.”

After years of beating up multiple ghosts, quite a few of the citizens of the realms held respect for Danny. Honestly, it was refreshing to be able to just talk with half of the ghosts he used to fight. While he still held fights with them, cause it’s a form of affection apparently, things had cooled off for the most part. 

Which means it allowed Danny to get to know a lot of them better. This is how he found out that Fright Knight was cursed to serve the king. Thankfully with a little help from Jazz studying the books in Ghost Writers library and a surprisingly life-or-death adventure, Danny freed the ghost. This led to Fright Knight giving his servitude to Danny… which kinda undermines the whole point of the adventure in the first place but it wasn’t Danny’s place to judge.

“What can I do you for, Sir Phantom?” Fright Knight asked, getting closer to the portal and standing guard right outside it.

Oh yeah, and had he forgotten to mention the nickname? Yeah, it bothered Danny too. Although he’s learned that there's not much he can do to change it.

“There are some mortals I’d like to keep an eye on. They are the vigilantes of Gotham,” Danny proposed, making it a suggestion even though he knows Fright Knight will just do anything he says anyway. “Could you look over them for me?”

Fright Knight gave a deep bow before stepping through the portal. His extremely tall frame still absolutely dwarfed Danny in size. Which means it was kinda funny to watch him step through a portal that was sized for Danny's height. He's just so used to making a portal no bigger than that that he hadn’t even considered it.

“I would be honored,” The ghost replied, to which Danny nodded with a thankful smile.

“Thank you Frighty. I’ll check in with you every once in a while,”

And with those last words, Fright Knight nodded and disappeared. He tended to be less on the wordy side anyway.

Was it smart to send someone to spy on the bats? Probably not. But chances are, Dick isn’t going to say anything. Unfortunately, Dick had a mentality that he had to deal with things that are hurting him on his own. Whether from a sense of guilt or fear of not being enough, Dick would rather lead himself into the deep end than call for help. So to figure out why he’s been left so hauntingly alone, Danny is going to have to investigate. Thankfully just him going ghost had already scrambled Dicks security cameras, so the entire conversation wouldn’t be noticed.

The sound of a door closing took Danny out of his thoughts. He turned to the opening of the hallway, feeling himself smile at Dick. It’s been a very long time since he’s seen Dick in costume. The last time he saw the Nightwing suit in person it had honest-to-god tassels. He’s honestly really glad that Dick had changed the costume since then. This new suit in front of him was much more sleek. 

As he nodded to himself he could see Dick raising an eyebrow at him. He stood much more relaxed than before, a smile that didn't look entirely fake on his face.

“At least you’ve gained some sense of style after all this time,” Danny hummed, finding delight in Dicks scandalized gasp.

“I thought you loved the old costume!” Dick said, trying and failing to smother his amusement with an upset face.

Danny shrugged and folded his legs underneath him. It felt so easy to use his powers like this again. While he wasn’t exactly shy to use his powers normally, his range of them was muted in human form. As he hovered in place, he tilted his head teasingly at the other.

“Sorry, I was so busy staring at your chest that I missed what you were wearing,”

Dicks off guard laughter was the best thing Danny had heard in years.

[itsmuffiiee]

ミ✰ BIRTHDAY EVENT! A SONA PARTY! ♪

🎊 toki! I'm Muffin! Let's celebrate by drawing our sonas in silly party outfits 🎊

For my birthday (Dec 2nd) I thought… what would be a better gift than getting to see so many diffrent sonas? Especially if it’s of my friends, moots and possible future friends! I designed a party version of my sona and am hoping others will draw their own sonas in outfits to match that aesthetic

The plan is to draw submitted sonas in a big drawing at the end of the event! If you’re interested feel free to read more but if not please reblog this post anyway so that others can participate!

How To Participate:

1. Reblog this post with the specific tag #RSVP so I know you’re interested! 🎉

2. Submit your sona design! I am gathering the designs beforehand to hopefully get a head start on the group drawing. You can submit a design by sending me an ask with a reference! Simply draw your sona matching the outfit shown below. It can be a quick sketch, I just request it be fully colored- Also please include height or approximate size plus any other important details in the ask!

3. Attend the magma! I will have a magma open Nov 29th - Dec 3rd where I’ll be drawing and doodling throughout the days ( this is optional! But feel free to join me! )

4. I will do my best to draw all sonas submitted to me before Dec 1st in a group photo!

Thank you for Reading! ☆

[galactic-feelins]

Now they can both have Anti Form! :D

Don’t worry, Roxas consented to Sora’s kneading :3

Originally I was gonna joke that he’s letting this happen cuz his back hurts, but then it drew attention to my own back and upon stretching I instead hurt my chest somehow… so anyway that became a little too real…

[dookiespooky]

A bunch of different version of this piece bc i couldnt decide which one i liked more :/

[twilightakiishi]

made that template for three :3 venchiya rundown!!! more in tags if u care

[sleepyseals]

[Image Description: A digital painting of a Lego Bionicle Rahkshi facing left and stooped over as if tracking its prey along the ground. The background is black with a bright green vertical shape to contrast the character in front. The Rahkshi is holding its spear in its right limb, propping its body up with it as it holds its face close to the ground. It is rendered as a black metallic material with red eyes. Its hunched shape and angular spines stand out harshly against the green background. End Image Description.]

I got a rahkshi recently and wanted to draw it so here's this - kind of an experiment with studying a real life object and how to pose it into a interesting composition and then replicating the lighting I got tired of rendering this partway through however :P

[xxplastic-cubexx]

friend notoriously bad at videogames said shed play marvel rivals with me tomorrow chat if i never post after tomorrow night its because a blood vessel bursted

[yellllowstar]

slowly I'm recovering the beauty of discovery

(creature by half•alive)

(textless + timelapse below cut)

[geosaurus]

Get Your Life Together AU

[stardestroyer81]

🏳️‍🌈HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, Y'ALL!!! 🏳️‍⚧️

Just in time for this month's festivities, I've whipped up a set of seven pronoun pins drawn in the style of the North American Mega Man logo, as well as an additional eighth pin repping transgender rights! You can find them all over on my RedBubble store by clicking here!

(Pssst! If you would like to request a custom pronoun set pin in this style, feel free to DM me and I will add it to my store for you!)

[soul-eater-novel]

p42 「ま、まあそう言うなよ。生きてたんだからいいじゃねえか」 “H-hey, now. At least we’re alive, eh?” 慌ててビクトールは、森の外の村を指さした。 Flustered, Viktor pointed at the village beyond the forest.

「はら、あそこに村がある。あそこで聞きやあ、ここがどこだかすぐわかるぜ」 “Look, there’s a village over there. Let’s just go ask ‘em where we are.”

身体についた土を払って、ビクトールが立ち上がる。 He stood, brushing the dirt from his clothes.

皆もため息をつきながら立ち上がったーーとんだことになってしまった、とても言いたげに。 Everyone else sighed and got up, all looking as though they would have liked to give Viktor a piece of their minds, but had decided not to bother.

しかしティルを先頭にして、皆が村に向かって歩きだした時。 Tir begin to lead the party toward the village.

「え…？！」突然ティルが足を止めた。 But then he stopped suddenly. “Huh?!”

ティルのすぐ後ろを歩いていたクレオも、前方に視線を移したとたんに立ち止まった。 Cleo was right behind him, and looked to see what had startled him. She stopped dead in her tracks, too.

「あれは……」 “Isn’t that…?”

二人はそのまま、呆然と前を見つめていた。 They stood there, dumbfounded.

村から少し森に踏み込んだ辺りに、太めの針葉樹が立っている。 A large fir tree stood a little ways away from the village, near the forest.

その木の影から覗くようにして、一人の子供がティルをじっと見つめていた。 A child peeked out from the shadows of the tree, staring right at Tir.

鮮やかな栗毛に茶色の瞳、柔らかな頬に人なつっこい笑顔を浮かべた男の子。 He had bright chestnut-brown hair, light brown eyes, round cheeks, and an easy, friendly smile.

ティルはその子を、見たことがあるような気がした。 Tir was sure he knew him.

「ねえねえ、おにいちゃんたち？」にこにこと笑いながら、男の子が言う。「おにいちゃんたちが宝物を取りに来た人なの？」 “Heya!” the little boy called out. “Are you guys here to steal our treasure?”

男の子に歩み寄りながら、ティルが答える。 Tir approached him.

P43 [image!] P44 「宝物？ううん、違うよ」 “Treasure? No, not us.”

「そっかあ、よかった。おじいちゃんが怖い顔してるから、僕、ちょっと心配だったんだよ」 “Oh, that’s good. Gramps looked real mad, so I was gettin’ kinda worried.”

男の子が目を細めて微笑んだ。 The boy grinned so big his eyes nearly shut.

ティルは彼の言う宝物も気になったが、それよりも気になることがあった。 Tir did want to ask about the treasure, but there was one thing he wanted to know more than that.

男の子の前にしゃがんで、さらにティルは言う。 He crouched down in front of the boy.

「ねえ君、名前はなんて言うんだい？」 “Hey, what did you say your name was?”

「うん、僕はね……」 “Oh, I’m…”

「テッド！！こっちに来なさい！！」 “Ted! Come back here!”

突然響いた声に、ティルはどきりとして顔を上げた。 Startled at the sudden shout, Tir looked up and around for the source.

森に一番近い家の玄関に立った一人の老人が、怒ったような目つきでこちらを呪んで���た。 An old man stood at the entrance to the house closest to the forest, glaring at them.

「じやあ、おじいちゃんが呼んでるから」 “Oops! Gramps is calling me. Better run!”

「あ、ちょっと……」 “Ah, wait just a—”

ティルが止める間もなく、男の子は老人の方へ駆けだした。 Before he could stop him, the boy dashed off toward the old man.

老人はテッドと呼んだ男の子を家のなかに押し込むと、ティルたちをじろりと眠んて扉を閉ざしてしまった。 The elderly man pushed the boy called Ted into the house and, sparing one final glare at Tir and the others, slammed the door shut.

「ティル様。今の男の子、テッドと……」 “Lord Tir, he just called that boy “Ted”…”

背後で言ったクレオに、ティルは閉ざされた扉を見つめたまま答える。 Cleo said behind him.

「うん。これはいったい、どういうことなんだろう？」 “I know,” Tir answered, gazing at the door. “What in the world is going on here…?”

もしあの子が、僕の知っているテッドならーー ティルが思考を巡らす。 Tir’s head was spinning. If he’s the Ted that we know…

p45 僕とグレッグミンスターで暮らしていたテッドは、紋章の力で三百年間少年の姿のままだったはず。 When Ted lived with us in Gregminster, his body was still that of a young boy’s, as it had been for 300 years due to the power of the rune.

しかし、今僕らの前に現れたテッドは子供だった。 But the Ted I just spoke to was a child.

ということは……？そこまで考えて、ティルは愕然とした。 Which means…? Following that train of thought logically shocked Tir to his core.

あの子はソウルイーターを宿す前のテッド？！ This is Ted before he received the Soul Eater rune?!

すると僕らは三百年もの時を遡ってしまったということかー？！ And we’ve travelled more than 300 years back in time?!

「おいおい、二人とも、何を黙り込んでるんだよ？」 “Hey, what’s spooked you two?”

背後に響いたフリックの呆れ声に、ティルが我に返る。 Flik asked from behind them, jolting Tir back to the present.

「こ、ごめん。ちょっとあの子のことが気になって……」 “S-sorry. We were just surprised by that boy.”

「うん、ガキはともかく、お宝ってのは俺も気になったな」楽しそうにビクトールが言う。 “Yeah, that treasure he mentioned got me wonderin’, too!” Viktor chimed in, looking like he was having fun.

「とりあえずどうだ、ここがどこか聞かなきゃならんわけだし、今の家を訪ねてみるってのは？」 “Let’s go ask at that house to find out where we are!”

「そうですね、そうしましょう」やはりテッドのことが気になるのか、クレオも言った。 “Yes, let’s.” agreed Cleo, obviously wanting to know more about Ted.

ティルたちは足を速め、森からこぢんまりとした家が建ち並ぶ村へと出た。 They quickened their pace and entered the village, a smattering of houses cozily lined up.

村は山の中腹の森にあった。 The village was in a forest halfway up a mountain.

背後を振り返れば高い山がそびえ、正面の針葉樹森の向こうには広大な平原を見下ろすことがてきた。 Behind the village towered the tall mountain. To the front, the village overlooked a large, flat meadow, visible past the pine forest.

先ほど感じた肌寒さは、村が高い場所にあるからなのかもしれないーー I guess this place feels so chilly because it’s up high.

そんなことを考えながら、ティルは老人とテッドという名の少年が入った家の扉を叩いた。 Thought Tir, as he knocked on the door the the house the boy had gone into.

「あのう、少々お尋ねします」 “Sorry to bother you, but we just have a quick question.”

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