#he has both the magic and the tech

[patfr8]

Kitsune Tails who fakes his death and makes a sanctuary for castaways like him, only to be found by 4pocalispe and Rangi once more.

And Tails is confused by Rangi’s anger (wind god sonic is there too) (maybe she didn’t lose everyone)

[miscellaneousrenaissant]

Ep 3 AU in which Evan succeeded on his death save but lost his arm, so K made him a prosthesis while the group was still on Galamanis

[volcanicsleep]

rottmnt/gotham dream drawings as promised lmao

[gensymscribes]

making ocs is all fun and games until you try to write concrete lore about a nebulous yet core concept that you previously handwaved for the sake of "it's cool if this happens"

[mutable-manifestation]

aiobuvu;nj I have stared at this for several nonconsecutive hours since I was @'ed Minji

I love this idea so much. Just lemme- yeah here we go:

~~~

In the midst of it all, a light of hope amidst the chaos, there is: Tucker.

Tucker Foley knows what he's about. Tech. He's about tech. His first priority after entering an entirely new version of earth with who knows how many differences to temporal placement, sapient populations, flora, and fauna?

He wants to know if his PDAs still work.

He checks Sandra first, of course.

Miraculously, she works fine.

Next up is the modded ones - he skips straight his one true love: Helena.

Helena had been with them from the beginning - the first PDA, the one true PDA, with every mod and upgrade tested over time. They'd cracked open many a GIW facility together in the past - among other things.

And. It seems Desiree was feeling generous? Helena connects to the internet just fine, and her scans all come back clean. He'd set his other loves up to scan while he was waiting, but of course Helena finished the fastest, unparalleled as she was in her might as in her beauty.

So next up was research time.

And Tucker is about tech, but the first article about heroes has him distracted.

So of course he has to know more.

The first search, ghosts, doesn't really net anything.

The second for a more general "powers" leads him to an article about "metas." He only skims a few sentences before moving on.

Finally, he searches "magic."

A hero named "Captain Marvel" pops up. Guy claims to be magic instead of a meta. It's not a LOT, but it's a possibility. Tucker's gonna have to hunt the guy down. Because if magic is a real, genuine thing in this new world?

Tucker wants magitech. Badly. The things Helena could do with a magical power boost...

Well, he doesn't really know, but he wants to.

But first, time to be a good friend and help Danny (and all of Amity, really) Triple G their way into this new world.

~~~

Kon is so, so grateful he can hold his breath for a long time.

It took thirty minutes for them to arrive to the newly-existing town in middle-of-nowhere-Illinois thanks to the logistics of "the entire internet and US government just got several thousand new people as if they were always there except they clearly weren't and it's causing Issues (TM).

(Mainly, the issue is paranoia - is this another invasion, is this a trst version for a mass-brainwashing, etc etc).

Kon spent the next twenty minutes watching Clark trying and failing to get a word in edgewise.

The maybe-hero's no one's ever seen before hovering above the definitely-town that wasn't there before very politely roast Clark's costume before, essentially, dismissing him out of hand.

Then they'd gone back to squabbling. There'd been a few stray lasers from the maybe-hero's aimed at each other accompanied by pouting or protest, but they were few and far between and all very carefully aimed away from the onlooking crowds below - almost the whole town from the look of things.

And then.

And then.

Some kid in a beret waves the three down - all of whom obediently descend.

Well, the probable-siblings descend obediently. Red grumbles a bit before following - utterly ignoring Clarks "If we cou-."

Clark stared after them, dismayed, as Kon diligently kept from vibrating in place behind him.

And then, of course, Kon hears what beret-guy is saying.

There's magic in this universe, he tells them.

And, well, at least that one thing confirmed.

The four - and a nearby goth girl - grin as one, saying as one: "Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss?"

"Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss," Beret grins back.

Kon is so glad he doesn't have to breath that often.

Clark begins to descend.

"I'll get Lance on it- if- " Goth hesitates.

Beret nods. "Yep, everything's greenlit. Thankfully. I'll update the city-only page with deets - make sure he checks it before he goes live."

She nods before away, taking out a phone as she goes.

~~~

The maybe-hero trio squabble a bit more, with the boy groaning and rolling his eyes when he sees Clark's approach before grabbing the other two and dragging both into the ground.

Beret and the onlookers seem unconcerned.

Clark doesn't let it phase him, calmly allowing the three to slip away in favor of talking to the unmoved Beret, who had yet to look up from his...

Phone?

Maybe???

"Young man-"

"Sean." Beret boy cuts him off with a polite nod.

"Ah, Sean then, I have few questions for you-"

"Who???"

"You-"

"Uh, my name is Tucker," Tucker shoots back, raising a brow. And yet. His eyes still do not leave his...device? At first he'd thougt... but the more Kon looks the less it seems like a phone.

No. It isn't a phone.

Maybe it never was.

"But- you said it was Sean?" Clark asks, voice politely confused, if a bit distressed.

"I thought you were Sean. Isn't that was the 'S' stands for?"

"...No, it-"

"Spencer, then," Tucker says, finally putting away The Device. "Listen. I'm sure you're wondering "who are all these people" and "how did you get here" and "there wasn't a town here like five minutes ago how could this have happened." I gonna level with you - so is the federal government, probably. And now that the Notice-Me-Not curse afflicting our home for generations has finally been lifted-" Clark opens his mouth, but Tucker barrels on "-we kind of need to deal with that. So if you have questions maybe just watch the news. Or least go away for a minimum of five business days."

"Son-"

"We're literally not related, our town was literally isolated from the outside world by a curse for ages."

"We know you're from a different universe."

"What, Amity? Why would you think that?" The boy feigns confusion.

Kon notices a variety of people in the crowd recording them on an eclectic mixture of flip phones, Just Cameras, and oddly old-looking touch-screen phones.

"I heard you talking to your friends-"

"From that far away?" Tucker's eyes flicker doubtfully to the sky.

"I have super-hearing-"

"Then you heard wrong. Now if you'll excuse me-"

"I heard you perfectly well-"

"Uh-uh, and just how does this "super-hearing" work, exactly," he asks, and he puts the power in air quotes. And Kon is holding his breath without too much effort but he can't quite subdue the tears bubbling up as a result of suppressing his laughter at this. "If you even-"

"It's global-" Kon spits out, his desperation to know what Tucker will say next allowing him to subdue the chuckles just long enough.

"What, just everything? All of the time?"

Kon nods. Clark works his mouth wordlessly, unsure how to proceed with the odd change of topic but upbringing forbidding him from being rude just because the other person is being difficult.

"Dude, do you have any idea how many people talk about alternate universe stuff all the time? It's, like, nerd 101. And you, what, picked out one conversation? Out of billions? And don't think you might've confused any of the numerous same or similar voices throughout the world with mine?"

Tucker shakes his head pityingly.

"You heard wrong, my guy. It happens to the best of us. And speaking of the best of us," he says, pulling out another buzzing not-a-phone-and-maybe-never-was, "It seems like Monica needs some quality time with the TF."

He caresses the side of the machine and turns to leave.

Clark stares after him as the crowd moves to disperse. Among them, a girl glances at him and tells her friends, "Dios mio, all the fashion in this place had better not look like that."

A tear rolls down Kon's cheek.

'Don't. Laugh.'

You know... >.>

My Dad always used to tell me, if I get a Genuine Genie(tm)? Get a lawyer first. Before I make my Wishes(tm), so they can help me word them correctly.

Obviously, a human lawyer would not be foolproof... BUT! What about a Ghost Lawyer?

Like? Obviously Desiree would be PISSED. How DARE you twist HER wish twisting! Her THING is "what you believe is your heart's desire always comes at a terrible cost" which is what she DIED to learn.

So obviously she would NEVER, willingly, bend her Obsession for ANYONE. And you'd have to make a DAMN good case to that Lawyer for why he ISNT breaking the law by helping you. Probably some "you can: save the life of an unconscious person against their will/shove an unobservant person OFF the train tracks, even if they get hurt, to save their life" clause.

Like? Using a ghosts Obsession against them? Bad. Illegal.

Using it against their will, to save OTHER ghosts, who are in immediate danger? Not illegal, but they will be PISSED. Still not great though, you will want to apologize and fast.

So like??? Reality Bending Power. Patrick Star Method of "what if we MOVED the city... somewhere else?" Considered at 1am. Team of Ghost Laywers, acquired.

Amity and all Limnals are REMOVED from the DP-verse.

Wish worded juuuuust so. Any ghost that forms there? Yoink! Instantly removed to the Zone. Natural Portals? Cut off. Let the whole Reality fade out at an accelerated rate, as no NEW energy is fed into the system. Entropy will do, what entropy does. Exactly as they wished it.

They hated Death so much, they speed up the heat death of their ENTIRE universe by Eons. Congratulations, you guys "Won". Enjoy the wildly more fragile flora, fauna, and general ecosystems. Now that none of you have that ambient Ectoplasm strengthening your bodies. Yeah, the things you used to shrug off? Those are gonna maim or kill you now.

Doesn't MATTER if you "learn your lesson" though! Cause this is WAY past that point! This is "cutting off the tumor before it kills us" territory, and buddy? Amity ISNT the tumor. Go forth a grow, just like you wanted.

They won't be here to fix your messes anymore.

Because Danny got himself a dictionary thick "I Wish..." contract. Which was worded, as it needs to be, in one loooooooong run on sentence. Shouted "I Wish what's written on THIS, as it is currently, and without any form of editing or negotiation!" As fast as he could. Yote the document in Desiree's direction. And Flew like an INCANDESCENTLY pissed off Genie was trying to set his everything of fire.

Which she was.

Thankfully, Paulina came in clutch with her History of all things Jewelry, world fashions, and Make-Up knowledge. That, coupled with the Power Of Rich Friends(tm)? (Sam. Her mother was THRILLED to take her Jewelry and clothing shopping for something other then blacks and dark purple. They went on a jet setting whurl-wind tour. Sam actually kinda liked a some of what she found.)

They have Apology Bribes.

They shamelessly HIDE behind the mountain of Apology Bribes, while they explain themselves. Is Desiree HAPPY? No. But those bracelets are magnificent and she DOES deserve nice things. Those silks will really bring out her eyes. And she... DOES... admit...

Maybe...

That things are not... SAFE. Any longer. Danny TRIES. Everyone else can see it. And he's made incredible strides! Even convinced his lunatic parents. Though they're still not quite POPULAR. (WAY too pushy and invasive with their questions, for most people.) But the fanatics in white?

They nearly killed Box Lunch. If her father hadn't BEEN there...

And the poor man will have that scar on his back for the rest of his afterlife. Desiree can see why Danny is pushing. Does she LIKE it? No. But...

She supposes she will content herself with the suffering of the Fanatics in White and all who support them. THEIR wishes, twisted. Their ugly heart's desires.

Fine.

"SO YOU WISH IT. SO IT SHALL BE!"

And? The ghost town of what WOULD of one day grown into Amity, had the witch's there not been found by those they had fled from, which sits in long rotted ruins, amongst the trees in nowhere Illinois? Poof! Two "Towns" are switched.

The roads out of town coming to a clean line stop, meeting not even goat paths. Just trees. Old growth.

But it's not ALL of Town, is it? Faces missing. New, confused, faces from every corner of the map, taking their place. No Limnal left behind. No supporter of the GIWs genocide, brought along. Family's kept together where they could be. But by the few, scared and upset, green flashing eyes of children in the crowd?

It seemed for some, it was easier to fear and hate, then love their children.

Already they were being gathered up by school teachers and PTA parents. As everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Concerned, quite muttering a dull roar as everyone tries to coordinate.

Red Huntress joins Danny and Dani in the Sky. She doesn't get a word in. Wanted to know what the HELL was going on. She was with her dad in Chicago! Dani was in Taiwan! Literally! As in, sitting in a SUBWAY station one second, the next? Outside!

But they don't get to demand those answers. Because there is a sonic boom on the horizon. And then? Floating... weird... not ghosts?

Uuuuuuhhhh?

Hi?

That much blue... sure is a Statement. Like the cape and... bloooomers? Shorts. Bikini bottoms? It.. it's a Cool Look, dude! No, really. They are being VERY supportive here! If YOU like it? That's the only thing that matters!

Red Huntress smacks the Danny/i's Repeated upside their heads and demans to know what the Not-Ghosts are doing in their airspace.

Oh YEAH. Good point! What she said! And can it WAIT? They're kinda going through A Thing right now...

Kon? Wants it on record he loves these guys. They're hilarious. The LOOK on Clark's FACE?? He wishes he could frame it. Preserve it for future generations. Thing is? There was NOT a town here a second ago.

Well, bout 30 minutes or so, but you get the idea. One moment? Tree noises. Bam! Thousands of people! Obviously the checked it out. Only to be met with two... three maybe? Heros who have NO IDEA who they are.

Clear Reality warping shenanigans. Might be time travel or multiverse. Question is... are they STAYING? And if SO? What now...

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter

[on-the-clear-blue]

So yall know that the League of Assassin's are like, an eco terrorist thing right? Well I just had this idea.

Sam, coming into Danny's room and just face planting on his bed: Ugh...

Danny, who was sleeping, awoken as his friend who had gone missing 6 moths ago flopped onto of him: OH SWEET-NOCTURN IF THIS ISNT REAL I AM GONING TO SOUP YOY SO HARD...

Sam, reaching up and slapping her hand on his mouth:Shhh, less screaming, more sleeping, escaping murder cults takes more energy than I thought.

Sam produces to pass out and sleep for three days straight.

---

Tucker, lookingnup from his PDA: so...you joined what you thought was a peaceful protest and some how ended up in a eco terrorist death cult of assassins? I mean...shit now I have to do something interesting...

Danny, choking on his drink: Nuh uh, your the normal one Tuck, I died and now have a magical girl transformation and Sam got kidnapped by ninjas and somehow even more bad ass, you...you can still get out of this and just be a normal person.

Sam, nodding sadly: Yeah...don't conform to our standards Tucker, be your true, weak little boney self.

Tucker, sniffing:I am so going to not do that.

---

Just the idea that Sam not only got League training but also got out is hilarious to me, like yeah, that is the kinda bs that would happen.

Alsoni can just see her dropping random lore shit.

Sam, bored as the boys study: Did you know thst the Demon Head dunks himself in corrupted ecto? Yeah it's gnarly man, didn't taste good.

Danny, going to speak before pausing and thinking, before sighing:Yeah I would have licked it too.

Tucker, frowning as he finishes his "Evil invention-enator": You both have so many issues.

---

Sam, trying to teach Danny the basic league hand to hand:Come on dude! It's not that hard!

Danny, falling flat on his ass after not even touching Sam: Ow ow ow...fuck yeah it kinda is!

Sam, rolling her eyes: If not only the Demon Heads six year old grandson can learn but also Ellie? You can too.

Danny, mutterinf under his breath before pausing completely:ELLIE? What was she doing with a murder cult? I thought she learnt her lesson after the last one!

Sam, shrugging before putting kicking at Danny on the floor: I don't know she was following a guy around who was catatonic, said something about being angry at him for not answering her pen pal messages or whatever, I was more busy training to really care...like you should be doing!

---

Years later Sam is joining Danny and Tucker in Gotham, Tucker because he was scouted by both WE and Lexcorp, he wanted to choose the evil company because poorer work place regulations and the likely hood of him getting a powerbost was much higher, but was bullied by his friends/partners into choosing WE.

Sam, coming to the R&D labs late one night bringing Tucker dinner so he doesn't starve working a late shift, blinking as she sees a short boy sneaking out of the lab: Biraeam? (Sprout in Arabic) what are you doing here.

Damian, blinking right back, experimental tech Bruce has yet to clear for the field clutched under one arm and the blueprints for a new type of explosive batarang in the other: Manson...I-I could ask you the same.

Sam, raising an eyebrow and staring down Damian: bringing dinner to my husband...who works here...and I can only think that you do not. So I ask that you put those things you have down and tell your bastard of a grandfather not to step back in this place.

Damian, eyes squinting, he hadn't been around his grandfather for ages at this point but still felt offended at her tone: I don't think I will.

---

An epic fight produces where they both try not and spill/destroy the things that they are carrying until either Tucker or Tim find them and explain everything.

The everlasting Trio gets invited over for dinner (mostly because Bruce is a paranoid bastard and dislikes thst one of his employees is dateing/ is partners with an ex-LoA member) and it's a bit of just pointing at each other and shit

Sam, slamming her hands down on the table as she stands: Kindly Mr Wanye, Shut the fuck up, I know your batman, we all fucking know it so if you are going to try and interrogate us at least do it properly!

Danny, sipping his wine: I mean...I-I didn't know but I um...haven't been paying much attention to the bat dude...Rag man is cooler.

Sam, glaring:And you! Fucking Ragman? You can do so much better.

Danny, offended for his hero: Oi! He does good work!

Bruce, frowning as this night has gotten away from him: He kills people.

Sam, waving over at Bruce: Exactly!

Danny, rolling his eyes: Exactly she says, while having a kill count that's still growing, Exactly she says when she was the one that pushed that oil tycoon off the 50th floor.

Sam wincing,: Maybe not in front of batman babe?

Danny, looking over to Bruce that is looking ready to fight: Shit...imma call Tuck and tell him to start packing...

[yuwuta]

RODEO STATION, 1 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 

A collection of you and Megumi, through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 

content, warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, sort of canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique but it’s not mentioned in depth here, really just you and megumi falling in love and gojo watching

word count: 1.1k

part i: first years, jujutsu tech. fits in the timeline around when nobara first joins the class

When Satoru first finds him, Megumi has two conditions. First, that Tsumiki would be kept safe and happy, and far away from the Zenin clan if they weren’t going to be good to her—safe and far away from all jujutsu society if Gojo could help it; and that she would never have to worry about feeding herself or Megumi ever again. Satoru agreed right away, he would have done that without the request. 

For his second condition, an eight year old Megumi looked Satoru straight in the eye and told him that he would absolutely not be separated from you. Satoru thought it was cute, sweet, in the bratty, and naive but determined kind of way that seemed to be everything that kid stood for, and Satoru couldn’t fault him for it. Megumi’s evident childlike adoration of you aside, Satoru saw potential in you, too, so he accepted Megumi’s conditions, happy to welcome the two of you to the world of sorcery. 

It’s not until a week before you both start at Jujutsu Tech, that Satoru really asks Megumi why he wants you here (never mind the fact that you had already also made up your mind about being a sorcerer, and if there is anything that Satoru has learned about you in the past decade, it’s that: one, you have the magical ability to make Megumi do anything you say; and two, you’re incredible persuasive and very stubborn). Megumi doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, fidgeting with his melting ice cream instead when he says, “Well, she saved my life.” 

Satoru doesn’t tease when he hears this, only digging his spoon in for a scoop of Megumi’s toffee butter, smiling to himself when the cold hits his tongue, because he’d heard the message loud and clear: Megumi believes he owes you his life, and to keep yours protected, he wants you by his side.

Satoru quickly learns that Megumi truly has his work cut out for him as he watches you burst through a top-floor window of a high-rise building, falling carelessly with the object of your mission—a special-grade cursed object—clutched in your grasp. Second later, there’s a loud explosion, as the ugly head of a large cursed falls limp in the hole in the broken glass that you’d left behind. Satoru chuckles when he sees you smile, and the faint cheer of weeeeeeeee as you fall. He knew you were wild and stubborn by the way you bossed Megumi around without a care, but seeing you in action proved that you were also in your own league of crazy, a fantastic sorceress in the making. 

To his left, Yuuji gapes wildly as he looks up, shielding his eyes with his hand, and then flinching back when Nobara bursts through the ground floor door, not without a nail going flying into the curse that had been chasing her. She looks angry, then wide eyed, then up to where Yuuji and Megumi were also staring and starts squealing alongside him. 

“Gojo-sensei, what are you standing there smiling about—do something!” Nobara shouts, pointing an accusatory finger up in the air at your flying body. 

Yuuji gasps again, like he’d just figured out the consequence of you falling from a building, spewing on his own cries, “Hey, seriously, what the hell are we doing—she can’t fly,” he shouts, turning to shake his sensei, then pausing, “Wait, Fushiguro, can she fly? You know her.” 

“Idiot,” Nobara spits, “If she could fly then she’d be flying, not falling.”

“Then why aren’t we doing any—you know what, I think I can catch her,” Yuuji boasts, rolling up his sleeves, prepared to position himself underneath your descending body, and that’s when Satoru steps in, extending an arm in front of his students. 

“You all worry too much,” he smiles, lifting his blindfold just enough to look the pair in the eye, and tilt his head up slightly, “Besides, Megumi’s handled it.” 

Three heads turn back up to the sky, where you’re no longer in freefall, instead have had your shoulders snatched by Nue’s talons. You’ve still got that wild smile on your face, wider now as you descend much more elegantly via Megumi’s shikigami. Nobara and Yuuji wince as Nue’s wings flap widely when you’re set on the ground. You shift the box with the cursed object to one hand, reaching your free one around to pet the bird’s feathers. It crows happily, and Satoru snickers, much to Megumi’s dismay. You always did treat his shikigami like pets. 

“Hey, you’re okay!” Yuuji cheers, eyes sparkling, “What’s in the box? A sword—actually, I don’t want to know. If it’s another finger, keep it away from me.” 

“Hand it here,” Nobara demands. You’re happy to hand over the box and have another hand available for petting Nue. 

Satoru watches fondly as Yuuji and Nobara fuss over the box. They should probably exercise more caution, but he’s there, so the worst can’t happen. Meanwhile, you step closer to Megumi with Nue fluttering behind you. 

“You’re the one who told me there would be no need to get involved,” Megumi says, voice soft, hands falling comfortably at his side. 

“I said that you wouldn’t have to get involved with the curses,” you correct, standing on your tiptoes to nuzzles your head into the bird’s feathers, “I said nothing about not getting involved with me.” 

Satoru does his best not to choke out a loud laugh as Megumi’s face becomes increasingly pink when you reach forward to pinch his cheeks, his grumbling drowned in the sound of Yuuji and Nobara’s bickering. Satory sighs, content. He cares for all his students, but there’s a certain weight lifted on his shoulders knowing that when it came to you, there was truly nothing to worry about—Megumi would always be there for you. Honestly, he thinks Megumi might fight him to protect you if it came down to it. 

That thought does bring an audible chuckle to his lips, Megumi’s pinched expression calling to him, “What are you laughing about?” 

To which Satoru only hums, sticking his hands in his pockets. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow deeper, but it’s quickly dissolved when you catch his attention again, saying your farewells to Nue before giving Megumi the okay to let him recede into his shadows. 

“Oh, nothing,” Satoru chirps, turning to lead the group back to Ichiji’s car, “Come on, who’s still up for revolving sushi!”  

Cheers follow him as the veil dispels. You question Yuuji about whether or not you think the restaurant will have grilled eel, and Nobara pretends to throw up, arguing that eel is the worst, that you all should stick to hand rolls instead. Megumi stays quiet, walking on your outside, and humming along with all of your suggestions, and Satoru can’t help but wonder whether or not you knew that Nue had been out from the moment you’d stepped in the building. 

Honestly, he thinks Megumi might win that fight—might win any fight if it meant being with you.

[kathaynesart]

LAST TIME ON REPLICA!

While the first UPDATE of the new arc went up just a few weeks ago, we'll now be jumping back into the thick of the main storyline so figured a little refresh was in order! I'll be posting the next update probably tomorrow, so here's a quick rundown on all the important points before we dive right back into it (TW: blood and character death mention):

In the previous arcs we see recordings of Donnie's final hours infiltrating the Technodrome. He is forced to cut off Leo's arm to save him from becoming infested by the Krang (and more importantly to keep the bomb planted in his head from going off, a safeguard so his memories can't be read by the Krang).

While the others escape Donnie stays behind against Leo's orders and manages to plant two pieces of purple-looking krang tech within the Technodrome. One appears to a probe which allow Shelldon to tap into the Krang mainframe and secretly spy on them. The other... we don't know. Captured and confronted by Krang Prime, Donnie choses to trigger the bomb in his own head so that his knowledge cannot be used by the Krang.

Omega decides to reveal what he can to April, explaining that the two pieces are part of a secret plan of Donnie's known as "Project Shield and Spear." Both are pieces of new hybrid krang tech he created using krang matter and Draxum's bioengineering. "Shield" is the probe they all knew about, but what "Spear" does he refuses to say. Whatever it is, he says it will only act as a last resort should the Krang win the war and will guarantee that they never attack another planet... and Omega is the only one who can pull the trigger.

Elsewhere, while Mikey had managed to awaken some of his old power within him, it feels like his Ninpo is not back to normal. He can do things he couldn't do before, like healing magic, but it all makes him very tired. Draxum explains that it's likely because he hasn't completely unlocked his ninpo and is using up his life force instead. Mikey decides to attempt to unlock his ninpo by using the powers he currently has.

He nearly achieves this but comes across another being that also seems to be reaching for the ninpo. Instead he chases after the voices he hears which sounds like Donnie's and is exposed to flashes of the new timeline created in the movie.

Back in the real world, it's not looking good as Mikey suddenly bursts with a rush of intense energy. He loses consciousness but gains a painful new hairdo.

While this is happening, Omega accidentally comes upon the coordinates where it seems Raph's body might have fallen in the Central Park Colony ruins. We end the arc with two familiar looking agents being sent out into the field to find and retrieve him...

And that's it! A lot of other things happened in Arc 4 and 5, but these are the major talking points you'll need to keep in mind! Hope that helps, I should probably have it up by tomorrow!

[ganondoodle]

another WIP, but i can tell im running out of steam here, i still have to finish this one, the second phase and the beast one though .......

(in the second phase he reforms his right arm out of malice and uses it like the player uses links shiekah arm, it stretches like the hookshot to grab you from a distance etc. - beast is mostly typical beast attacks, then theres a cutscene, you think its over and zelda steps up to use her sealing power mimicking the scene from botws end, but he wakes back up and cuts off half her right hand, whichs disables her as a companion for the last and final fight- i want it to be actually extremely challenging; he will now mix up multiple attacks from all previous phases, switching between patterns of a beast to that of the skilled swordsman you fought him as right at the start of it, including dodging your perfect dodges back ..)

(WIP for "botw2" project)

perhaps we are getting somewhere with this ganondorf design after all ............. the patterns have been taking me forever and are far from done, i want to incorporate the colorful flower petal-ish design of the botw gerudo but still make him look different and more practical

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Spencer's Family

Summary: The team finds out what Spencer did on his sabbatical.

Inspired by a post, I saw about how, in the one episode we're going to see Spencer in, they meet his wife. I took it and ran.

1k words

After finally closing the case, Penelope practically demanded they go see the new place Spencer had bought a few years ago. Once he agreed (begrudgingly), the BAU tech was literally vibrating in her seat.

Spencer had picked out a small-town house on the edge of DC, a train ride away, but the small town had shops, schools, and parks for an all-around American family. 

He unlocked the door, making his way in first, summoning his team in with a nod of his head.

It seemed like a lovely home for a nearly mid-40s man.

However, there was something that caught Penelope's attention. It sounded like there was someone (possibly more than one) in Spencer's living room.

"Spencer," Penelope hisses. "I think there's someone in your house."

Spencer raises an eyebrow and makes his way into the living room without his gun raised. "It's just my wife and stepdaughter," he says over his shoulder.

"Stepdaughter?" Came from Tara and Luke.

"Wife?" Whereas this came from Penelope, Emily and JJ. 

The last anyone had heard from Spencer about his love life was Maxine, and judging by the voice - this wasn't Maxine.

The group hurried after Spencer, seeing a young girl - possibly around the age of 5, maybe 6 - with her arms wrapped tightly around Spencer's neck. The little girl was an absolute chatterbox. She hadn't stopped talking since the moment he set foot in the living room.

However, the woman they were more interested in was Spencer's wife. Who was sitting on the sofa, giggling at the pair in front of her; a blanket was thrown over her lap, and some sort of embroidery was now abandoned at her side.

"-and then Tony stuck a pencil up his nose!" She giggled.

"Why did he do that?" Spencer asked the little girl, taking a seat on the sofa and pulling her into his lap.

Just as she was going to explain why, she burst into more giggles, Spencer looked over at his wife for a possible explanation. "Apparently Arthur dared Tony to do it."

"Ah! You'd think after the incident with the Magic Marker, they'd know not to dare Tony to do things."

Spencer's wife shrugged her shoulders. "Now you're here, I'm going to take a nap." 

Before Emily could question why his wife was going to take a nap, she got herself out of the little nest she had made for herself. Protruding from her abdomen was a baby bump. A pretty big baby bump.

"Reid, you're going to be a father?!" Luke exclaimed, earning himself a rather harsh glare from the little girl (who now obviously sees Spencer as her dad). "Again..." he trails off, correcting himself under the child's gaze.

"Has she been giving you any hassle?" Spencer asks, ignoring Luke's question (or many of the genius didn't hear him), as his hand rested on the bump, a large smile growing on his face told the team the baby was probably moving. JJ still remembers when she was expecting Henry, and when she got Spencer to feel her bump on time, he mentioned how it felt alien-like.

"Well, she's happy now her daddy's home," his wife comments.

He looks up at her. "Have you given any more thought to going on maternity leave yet?"

The team watches as she rolls her eyes. "As I told you before I left, I'm completely fine; the semester doesn't finish for another 3 weeks."

"Your due date is in 4 weeks, Y/N! I know you feel you have a duty to your students, but I think even they would agree you should be at home."

"They would only agree because they don't want to see me go into labour whilst I'm at school."

"What's labour?" 

Both Spencer and his wife, who they now know is called Y/N, look down at their daughter. The wife looks at her husband. "Can you-"

Spencer leans over and presses a kiss to her temple. "I'll deal with this. You go take a nap."

She sighs happily. "Lifesaver, I don't know what I would do without you."

"And you won't have to," he replies, giving her a kiss. "Go take a nap."

After a spirited conversation with his stepdaughter about childbirth and babies (that was appropriate for a 5-year-old), she happily went back to her colouring book, which was neat and tidy, with every scribble kept firmly within the lines - she was more like Spencer even though they don't share blood.

Penelope plops herself down on an open chair and stares at Spencer like she has seen a ghost. "A wife, a stepdaughter, and a baby on the way?" Spencer nods, reaching over to run his fingers through the little girl's hair (who they now know is called Betty).

"You're excited to have a little sister, aren't you Betty?" Spencer asks, watching her blonde hair bounce around her head.

"I gets to help Mommy and Daddy take care of her!" She replies, the excitement bursting out of her.

Emily looks over at Spencer. "Are you ready?"

Spencer looks away from Betty for all of a second to smile at Emily. "I don't think I've been ready for anything more in my life," he turns to Betty. "Have you come up with any more names for your sister?"

Betty coming up with names for her little sister was a way of her having a part in her little sister's life before she even gets here.

However, this time, Betty only had one. "Willow."

18 days later...

Just as Penelope hung up the phone on Emily, her personal phone pinged in her purse.

There was a notification from Y/N. In a picture from a hospital room, Y/N sat in the bed, cradling a bundle; Spencer sat at her side with Betty in the middle of them, the evidence of tears having rolled down the little girl's face.

Meet Willow Penelope Reid, born 5:37am, 6 pounds 9 oz; mom and baby are well. Oh, and Betty has asked Spencer to adopt her!

Penelope was crying when she called JJ. "Hey, Garcia."

"Y/N had the baby, and my name is the baby's middle name!" Penelope cried, and before JJ could say anything. "And Betty wants Spencer to adopt her!"

JJ smiled softly. "Well, we will have to go visit them once they are out of the hospital and settled in at home."

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

[prev]

Life rolls on, not quite easily but peaceful in all its hardships. As the months unfold, Healer falls into a sense of general contentedness with both Plain Yogurt and the village at large, enough to assume that this routine will continue for the foreseeable future.

It ends suddenly, in the middle of the night.

One of Healer's most inconvenient traits is his tendency to sleep rather deeply, so to be awoken in the middle of the night is already jarring enough for him. Worse than that is the thing that had woken him: an unholy, piercing screech that twists and reverbarates around the Raisin Cliffs and shudders the very earth beneath him. The villagers are clamouring outside the tent, and though he can't make out what they are saying, the sound is pitchy with panic and alarm.

Concern spikes cold in Healer's chest, and still slightly disoriented from waking up, he fumbles for his staff and immediately tries to rush outside. In his haste, he doesn't properly anchor his staff as he begins to move, tripping over his own feet and tipping forward. He doesn't even think to brace for impact before he finds a sudden hand catching his arm, startling him a little.

"Woah, woah, careful, don't crack yourself!" Plain Yogurt's voice meets him as he helps Healer right himself. Wrapped up in his alarm, he hadn't heard him moving around before. Plain Yogurt leads Healer's free hand to his upper arm and he takes the silent offer, latching onto him for support. "Here, let's go see what all the commotion is about, hm?"

Plain Yogurt sounds weirdly nonchalant about everything, but Healer just appreciates that he seems to have a level head in the midst of all this. He nods, readjusting his grip on his staff, making sure it is properly anchored this time. "Yes, quickly."

Outside, the sound is deafening, shaking the very air. It's even worse to poor Healer's ears, attuned as they are to pick up the nuances of sound. The chill of the night wind seizes their robes immediately, tugging them left and right, and Healer shivers. To his side, Plain Yogurt huffs out an incredulous laugh, almost covered by the din.

Healer turns to ask him what prompted that, but is distracted by the voices of the other villagers, still alarmed but less panicked. "No, no, that definitely wasn't there yesterday evening. We would have noticed something that big!"

"But where did it come from?"

"I don't know! I've never seen anything like that before, you know that!"

His concern only growing, Healer finally turns to Plain Yogurt, bumping shoulders to make sure he has his attention. "What are they talking about? What's there?"

"A crimson moon." Plain Yogurt says simply.

Healer pauses, shaking his head slightly as if he heard him wrong, through the slow waning of that horrible screeching. "A crimson moon? That is a rather odd occurence, isn't it?"

"Mhm. And," an audible grin slips into Plain Yogurt's voice, alongside something Healer could almost mistake as eagerness, "a castle in the sky."

"In the sky?" Healer repeats in disbelief, turning his face skyward even though that does nothing to prove this castle's existence to him. "What is it doing above our village?"

"Who knows?" Plain Yogurt sighs, with a shrug Healer feels through his hold on his arm. "It's impressive, though. A grand castle, with turrets topped with wafflecone peaks. Its shadow will swallow this tiny village whole when daylight comes."

A new sound suddenly floods the air, coming down in a wave of buzzing as a stray spark of magic energy snags on the dough of Healer's cheek. Flinching slightly, Healer frowns in confusion as shouts break out of the villagers, kicking Healer's concern back up to the surface with a healthy dose of fear.

"WHAT ARE THOSE?!"

"They- they look like, uh, robots?"

"They're heading towards the village!"

"Definitely robots, made of wafflecone too." Plain Yogurt supplements before Healer has to ask, still impressively calm, if not vaguely excited. "They're a pretty piece of tech, but I think we should probably go back inside. They look like they're gearing up for an attack."

Healer straightens up, his grip on his staff tightening as his heart lurches worriedly. "An attack? But why–"

"EVERYONE, HIDE!" Black Raisin's voice rises stubbornly over the muddled noise. "I'll try and hold them off!"

Healer trusts Black Raisin's abilities with his whole heart, but dread still pools inside him as he lets go of Plain Yogurt, turning in the direction he heard her voice. "Black Raisin, wait, let me-!"

A hand catches his arm before he can take more than a few steps as Plain Yogurt cuts in. "You heard her, my dear. Like I said, we need to hide."

Healer turns his head back towards Plain Yogurt with a stern frown. "But it's dangerous for her to go completely alone–"

Plain Yogurt's voice takes on a firmer, almost demanding edge. "She'll be fine, and if she isn't, she'll need you safe and in one piece to be able to heal her. Come on, in."

Plain Yogurt tugs on Healer's arm, but Healer hesitates, resisting against the pull for a moment. The buzz only gets louder, the wind bringing down an acrid, sweet smell as he hears the other villagers rushing around them, hurrying into the tents.

There's another, more insistent tug on his arm, and this time, Healer sighs and follows it. He understands what Plain Yogurt means, and Black Raisin would likely say the same anyway. For now, he will trust her to stay safe, at least enough for him to be able to patch her up afterwards.

So life rolls on, now far more stressful. The Wafflebots continue to attack, and they only seem to multiply as the weeks wear on. Healer is needed near constantly when they attack, and in the brief periods of respite, he is busy with making sure everyone's health is maintained under these continually deteriorating conditions.

Plain Yogurt was often by his side before, but now Healer insists he stay by him at almost all times. Black Raisin hasn't asked for his dispatch in a while, and they have both been acting civil enough in front of him, but Healer knows better. He might not see, but he can still feel the aggravated tension that builds between those two whenever they are around each other, and in a time of crisis, he doesn't want to risk anyone getting distracted.

Besides, Plain Yogurt helps Healer with the patients. He does basic first aid for the less urgent injuries as they wait for Healer to work his magic, and he helps to regulate Healer's condition too, getting him food and drink even when he doesn't want it.

Healer can hear him humming somewhere behind him now, as Healer gently feels around a patient's cracks. His fingers find the stickiness of jam, and he carefully traces the edge of the crack to judge the severity.

The patient, Choco Raisin, hisses quietly in pain, and Healer aches with sympathy. "Just a moment longer," he assures softly, "I just wanted to get a better idea of your injury."

He lays a light hand over the area, and channels his magic into the wound. It spills, warm and soothing, into Choco Raisin's dough, clearing the jam on the surface as it passes. Then, Healer weaves it tenderly through her cracks, deftly sealing them closed.

"There." He smiles, pulling away from her. "How does it feel?"

Choco Raisin takes a moment, presumably testing her body based on the sound of shifting clothes, before replying, "As good as new, like always! Thanks, Healer."

"I'm happy to help. Remember, though, take it easy for the rest of the day. Miracle healing or not, your body needs rest to recover from the stress of the injury." Healer reminds her with a hint of warning to his tone, knowing that Choco Raisin never likes sitting still for long. Sure enough, she groans an agreement, and Healer chuckles as he reaches for where he set his staff down.

His hand wraps securely around it, and a gasp escapes him as a familiarly foreign energy, cool like the feeling of early morning light, dances frantically down his arm. It curls around his heart, before settling in the dip of the hollow of his throat, all in the span of a second or less.

There is a moment of silence, and Healer realises that Plain Yogurt has stopped humming. He isn't sure when that happened.

"Are you alright, Healer?" Choco Raisin asks, concerned. "You're not hurt too, are you?"

Healer takes in a deep breath as the new energy fades into the depths of his dough, grounding himself. He can feel his staff reacting to something, pulsing as if it is trying to reach out and catch more tendrils of whatever it just found.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine." Healer says, managing a little smile as he pulls himself up to his feet, using his staff as leverage. He hears Choco Raisin follow his lead. "It's been a long day. I might be more tired than I thought."

"If you say so. Take care of yourself too, okay?" Choco Raisin's voice lifts with lingering worry, and Healer, touched by the care as always, nods with a hum.

He hears Choco Raisin say goodbye to Plain Yogurt over his shoulder and leave the tent, the closing flap masking the sound of her retreating footsteps. Healer sighs, turning to face where he last heard Plain Yogurt, probably sat by one of the tent walls. "That was the last patient for now, right?"

"Looks like it." Plain Yogurt replies, curt and dismissive, sounding like he always does when he doesn't care about a conversation. "Hey, what happened just now? When you grabbed your staff?"

Abruptly, there is an unyielding urgency in his voice, contrasting sharply with his previous curtness. Healer assumes, much like Choco Raisin, it stems from concern, and decides it probably wouldn't hurt to tell his closest friend the truth.

"Ah, I'm not too sure myself." He admits lightheartedly, tapping towards Plain Yogurt's voice and settling down somewhere near him, setting his staff down over his lap. He runs his hand along its stalk gently, as if petting it. The pulsing seems to have stopped, for now. "I felt a strange foreign energy coming from my staff. It seems to be resonating with something, though I don't know what that could possibly be. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was a surprise."

"Really?" Plain Yogurt's voice lifts like a song, as if intruiged, before dipping to tease, "That must mean you're something really special, huh?"

For some reason, those words embarrass Healer a little. He laughs, shaking his head. "No, not at all. I'm sure anyone with a strong affinity for magic would be able to resonate with whatever source is catching my staff's attention."

Plain Yogurt lets out a long, drawn hum, and then there is a shuffle of sudden movement. Healer feels their knees bump together, hears the scuffle of what must be Plain Yogurt's hands landing on either side of him, narrowly missing the length of his staff.

"You know," Plain Yogurt drawls, syllables curled with a smile, "I have a feeling something big is going to happen soon. Very soon."

Much like his random strange questions, this comment seemingly comes out of nowhere. Healer smiles back, playing along. "A good something or a bad something?"

"A good something. A very, very good something." Plain Yogurt pauses, then amends cheerfully, "For us, at least."

"Well, that's a relief." Healer turns his head towards the entrance of the tent, voice growing gentle. "After the hardship of the last few weeks, the village deserves something good happening for them."

Plain Yogurt clicks his tongue, a sharpened sound. He leans closer, close enough for his breath to ghost Healer's dough. That isn't really surprising, because he has quite the habit of leaning into Healer's space like this, but the angle of it is. His breath hits Healer's neck and collar rather than his cheeks, which suggests that his head is tilted down to look at something below Healer's chin rather than his face. Healer has no idea what he could be looking at, especially since he doubts his robes are a particularly interesting sight.

"No, no, not them." Plain Yogurt corrects, and there's that strange lilting tone of his again, the one Healer has never really managed to puzzle out. "Us. Just us."

Healer hesitates, confused by the apparent weight behind this distinction. "What do you mean?"

Plain Yogurt leans back, his breath receding as he shifts slightly, their knees no longer pressed together. "I don't know." He says, his grin loud. "It's just a feeling."

Once again, Healer gets the impression that Plain Yogurt knows much more than he is letting on. He genuinely considers pressing Plain Yogurt for information this time, but ultimately decides against it. Plain Yogurt said that whatever it is would happen soon, right? Healer will find out then. Besides, he also said it was meant to be a good thing, so maybe it would be nice to have a pleasant surprise waiting for him.

That night, PureVanilla Healer Cookie dreams that he is floating in a cold embrace.

"Pure Vanilla Cookie," a voice calls to him from nowhere and everywhere, a voice so similar to his own, "Pure Vanilla Cookie!"

That isn't Healer's name, but for some reason, he feels the urge to answer anyway. "Who's there?"

"There you are!" The voice coos, rippling through the nothingness. "You've kept me waiting for far too long, you know. Are you finally ready to face the Truth?"

"What?" Healer mutters, though alongside his confusion wells a traitorous dread, as if his body understands the implication of what is being said better than his mind.

"Open your eyes," the voice coaxes, "and confront the Truth you are so determined to hide from."

Healer realises, suddenly and anxiously, that the reassuring pressure of his bandages have vanished, leaving his bare face exposed. Fear bursts painful through his body, and his hands fly up to cover his closed eyes, pressing his palms into his eyelids in a mimicry of his bandages.

"No, you must confront the Truth." The voice insists, its tone relaxed and otherworldly but no less stubborn. "Open your eyes, Pure Vanilla Cookie."

"I- I can't!" Healer argues weakly, even though that really isn't his name, burying his face into his hands in an act of unspoken defiance. Nervousness prickles along his dough, making him queasy. "I'm sorry, I don't know why but I can't. It will be too much for me."

"Just once." The voice promises softly. "Just one proper look at its whole, ugly entirety and then you will never have to look at the Truth again."

Healer is quiet for a moment. The words affect him in two contrasting ways, both a comfort and a disturbance. The press of his hands against his eyes lifts slightly, less harsh in its rejection of the outside.

"Open your eyes, Pure Vanilla Cookie." The voice repeats and this time, past his fear and dread and uncertainty, Healer feels compelled to listen.

His hands slip from his face, and he cautiously squints his eyes open.

The world is a dark blur for a moment, not any different than the back of his own eyelids, before his eyes finally focus to the best of their ability. It is enough for Healer to realise that he is floating in a black void, with deep blue eyes surrounding him on all sides. They seem to glitter and glow like stardust as they stare at him, pinning him in place like a butterfly to a board.

Healer can only stare back, transfixed, as he sinks into velvety darkness.

When Healer wakes up, it is a slow, sluggish affair. Somewhere outside, he can hear the cawing of the raisin crows announce the daybreak, and it takes him just a moment too long of being conscious to realise the feeling of a hand in his hair.

Still weighted with dregs of sleep, he appreciates the feeling of fingers threading through his hair and the scratch of something against his scalp for a minute or two, before he finally has the presence of mind to wonder who the hand belongs to.

"Plain Yogurt?" He asks with a little yawn, because that's the only logical explanation. "What are you doing?"

The hand stills and pulls away. With his newfound space, Healer pushes himself up into a sitting position, rubbing at his own face in the hopes that will wake him up faster.

"Nothing. You were just tossing and turning so I wanted to help you relax. You need all the rest you can get, since you're so busy all the time." Plain Yogurt explains easily, voice slightly hushed in the early morning. His tone becomes sweeter, softened with honey. "Did you have a nightmare?"

Somehow, it sounds like it is worded as a trick question. Healer doesn't know what the trick could possibly be though, and answers honestly, "I don't know. I don't remember dreaming of anything."

"Mm." The sound is flat, but Plain Yogurt's voice is lighthearted, close to teasing as he says, "That's okay. I'm sure you'll remember one of these days."

"What about you, then? Did you dream of anything?" Healer asks to carry on the conversation, though he reaches for his staff as he does. He needs to get up for the day; the Wafflebots attacks could happen at any moment, and there will inevitably be Cookies in need of his help.

When his fingers wrap around the stalk of his staff, there is no familiarly foreign shot of energy. For a single, bizarre moment, he thinks he almost misses it.

"Nothing much." Plain Yogurt replies languidly, his voice rising and spreading through the air as he gets to his feet. "Just a little doll in the palm of my hand."

[next]

[volcanicsleep]

The turtle dreams have returned

[saetiate]

love, pancakes & robots

sae x reader fluff (suggestive) for @pixelcafe-network 's challenge friday!

excerpt: "You," you stab him in the chest with a finger. "Are a robot whisperer."

"I read the instructions on the box like a normal person."

"I did too!"

"Oh really? You can read? That's surprising." He grips your wrist before you can smack him again, eyeing you playfully like he's just daring you to try, pulling you in until his arms are wrapped around you.

“What are you doing?”

Looking for you the moment he's up is rare for Sae. It's the weekend, you love to sleep in, and he's usually heavy enough to keep you tucked into him even if you rise first.

“I was trying to make pancakes." There's a set of ingredients to your left, a plate of half-baked and burnt ones to your right…

"Doesn't look like it's working."

He says the comment off-handedly, but you catch that almost-grin of his before he manages to turn away and you shove him, your hand meeting the hard muscle of his chest. He barely budges, but he presses a hand to himself like you knocked the wind out of him, eyes wide with faux-pain that finally has you out of your pancake-making stoop and laughing.

"It's a fancy pancake maker! The one we got gifted, remember? They're meant to pop out perfectly every time."

"Y'know, there's nothing wrong with making them the old fashioned way." He grabs the box to the side, casually flipping it in his hands.

"This is new tech, Sae! New tech! It's supposed to just spit a pancake out at you like a robot!"

"Like that dumpling maker that doesn't actually roll a dumpling together no matter how you put it in?"

You wave your hand. "That's just proof that dumplings need to be folded with hands and made with love."

"Hmm," Sae puts the box down, pours the pancake mix in along with some chocolate chips.

It pops out perfectly.

"You," you stab him in the chest with a finger. "Are a robot whisperer."

"I read the instructions on the box like a normal person."

"I did too!"

"Oh really? You can read? That's surprising." He grips your wrist before you can smack him again, eyeing you playfully like he's just daring you to try, pulling you in until his arms are wrapped around you.

He dips his head to speak softly in your ear. "Maybe the robot just likes me better."

You pull away from him, tapping your hands on his cheeks. "Then the robot is misogynistic."

"A robot with skewed moral values? Governments might start using it for politics."

He spins you around in his arms so you're both facing the pancake maker, where he pours it in again and watches as it chucks out yet another perfect piece. The pure shock on your face has him chuckling into your shoulder, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"It's alright. I love you enough for both me and the robot."

He squeezes your waist, and you miss his warmth immediately as he moves towards the doorway.

"Hey! Come back here and do the rest, magic robot man!"

"Mm," he makes an act of considering it, tilting his head. "What do I get in return?"

"Outside of chocolate pancakes?"

"You know I don't care about pancakes." He swoops towards you fast and lifts you up by your thighs, placing you on the countertop, hands on either side of you as he leans in. "So?"

"Well," you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in even closer, "what do you want?"

He grips the back of your calves, tipping you until you're lying flat on the counter, looming above you.

"I think it's clear," he tells you in a low tone, "what I want."

"Sae," Heat rushes through you, hyperaware of everything -- how warm his hands are, the cool countertop underneath you, the way his stature is the only thing that makes a position like this even possible.

"Pancakes first, you try to tell him, your heart beating fast in your chest, "or we'll never eat today."

"You sure?" He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, then one higher up, and it has you gripping at his hand.

"We eat at this table."

"Who says that's not what I'm about to do?"

"You're cruel."

this is my first time doing a challenge!! the prompt i was given was: “What are you doing?” “I was trying to make pancakes but it didn’t exactly work” i hope i've done it justice!!

[jinjeriffic]

Dan Phantom vs. the Justice League

Most DCxDP fanworks gloss over how Dark Danny/Phantom kills the JL, or argue that TUE wouldn't play out the same way in the DC universe, since there are tons of superheroes and some would have a way of beating Dan. So let us dig into this with a shovel!

I would like to point out that we have seen plenty of apocalyptic/dark futures in DC. Even without Dan, that superhero multiverse is constantly teetering on the knife's edge of catastrophe! It feels like every couple of months someone has to stop the end of the world. Dan is just one more possible future to avert.

Dan is not a mindless monster, he is capable of planning, subterfuge and working with/coercing others to work with him (i.e. Fright Knight). He has both Danny and Vlad's memories, so in a crossover setting there is no way he wouldn't know about the public superheroes and villains at least.

Speaking of, DC is obviously crawling with supervillains and world destroying entities. Nobody said Dan had to conquer the world alone! I can totally see him working with and manipulating other villains to achieve his goals, only to stab them in the back later (ho-ho).

Dan's powers of invisibility, intangibility, duplication, overshadowing etc. make him an ideal candidate for infiltration, espionage and sabotage. Unless a person or location is specifically shielded against ghosts with tech or magic, he can get in and out without anybody noticing. Sure, someone like Batman probably had his home proofed against supernatural attacks, but surely not most of them! I envision him taking down Earth's heroes by extensively spying on them first.

Consider: Dan causes a major disaster that requires superhero intervention (runaway train, high-rise fire, sinking oil tanker etc.) and waits for someone to show up. When they do, Dan uses his duplicates to follow the hero(es) home/to work etc. Learn their identity, their weaknesses, their loved ones etc.

Dan could strategically leak hero identities to villains with a grudge who have no problem going after their civilian lives. This could also act as a smoke screen so the heroes don't immediately realize someone is targeting all of them.

Overshadow a loved one and use them to kill the hero - "Oh, Hero X got in an argument with their SO and their SO shot them in a fit of passion? Their SO claims having blacked out just before they picked up the gun? Trauma will do that."

Use intangibility to plant bombs, nerve gas, radioactive materials, etc. in the homes of various heroes and set them off in a coordinated strike.

Probably the biggest threat to Dan would be magic based heroes or supernatural entities (Captain Marvel, Doctor Fate, the JLD, etc.). They would also be the most likely to have countermeasures in place against ghosts, or a way to detect him. But they're also mostly suited for fighting the supernatural. I admittedly don't know enough about a lot of these characters - would say, Zatanna think to have a shield in place against sudden sniper attacks? Dan could steal some money and hire Deathstroke/Deadshot etc to blow their head off when they're out in the open.

Have I mentioned what a nightmare Dan would be in terms of security? I can totally see him say, breaking into the CDC and unleashing smallpox, ebola and any number of virulent diseases on the world. Cause some nuclear meltdowns. Knock down a dam. Steal some highly radioactive isotopes! Would the magic heroes be protected against something that can give you a lethal dose of radiation within minutes?

What I'm saying is, a clever and ruthless villain like Dan could unleash enough chaos with his OP powerset to overwhelm the heroes and then pick a lot of them off. He's pretty much the definition of someone who just wants to see the world burn!

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpxdc AU: consultant groups can be used to outsource problems for companies so why not monarchies?

Danny is listening to the various eyeballs and ghosts chatter on about all the issues that he now has to oversee and advise and make so many freaking decisions on. It’s annoying that it all has to come down to his call because he was a dumb 14 year old who didn’t want his town to permanently live in the ghost zone.

Now 17, King of the Infinite, and a bit wiser to the world, Danny is doing his best to balance his teenage ambitions to not give a shit and his protective obsession to very much give a shit.

Sams parents are making her learn the family business and Tucker is trying to make this internship he’s got with a fancy tech company out of New Jersey into a career without college… so while they’re commiserating with Danny the idea comes up.

Earth has a shit ton of heroes. Like, ever since the Justice League *poofed* the GIW out of existence with the Meta human acts- more and more caped crusaders seemed to be coming out of the wood work. More villains too but still, more people who seemed wise to their abilities and morals. Danny has literally never taken an ethics class.

But rn, Eye-mothy and Eye-Bert are arguing over how Danny as King Phantom is supposed to tackle the problem of some fucking pool acting as a weird trade route with a cult and… ugh it’s just so boring but like also such a fucking problem. But… maybe it can be someone else’s issue.

Opening a portal, Danny escapes into space and gets to work finding the base of operations- Tucker had told him there was a new satellite after all and there’s no way it wasn’t connected to the hero orgs- and boom he flies into the Watchtower.

“Hey- are any of you guys willing to consult on some weird pools of ectoplasm in Pakistan? Green and glowing little lakes of bullshit and magic?” Danny asks into the meeting room of the JL regardless of their startled and alarmed exclamations.

“… I could consult on that.” A voice comes from the corner, and Danny recognizes him as one of the bat people. Or bird? The guy is in a lot of red and clearly wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting based on the way he’s propped in the corner. The room erupts in protest but Danny barely hears them through his excitement and focus on the dude.

“Great! I’ll have him back before the end of the day! Lets go Bird boy!” And with that, Danny grabbed the Bird, chucked them both through a portal back into his thrown room and begins to explain the way these eyeballs are totally trying to trap him into doing more work than he needs to do.

“What do I call you by the way? I’m Danny but you’ll probably hear them call me King Phantom.”

“I go by Red Robin, and honestly, I’ve been trying to get this shit taken care of for years.”

From there Tim becomes a regular consultant for King Phantom- the Bat Family is losing their minds with him constantly going to the land of the dead but also Constantine said not to piss off the king at all costs.

Danny is just thrilled that this dude has a shit ton of insight as well as business sense- like he could legit run the monarchy way better than him despite the fact that they’re the same age.

They end up working together for years, and even when there’s not an active issue at hand, Danny will meet up with the bird just to talk.

Sam and Tucker think they’re hilarious each time they ask if Danny’s proposed yet.

Tim has already planned their wedding but all of that information is in a folder more secured than the nuclear codes- Danny needs to ask him on a date first.

[super-ion]

The Engineer

Part 1

I catch a glimpse of the pilot as she is wheeled towards the med bay. Her eyes have that telltale glaze of just having been wrenched out of herself.

I've never spoken a single word to her, but for a moment as the gurney slides by, those eyes briefly clear, ice blue pinning me to the spot. She raises an emaciated arm and her hand almost seems to beckon to me before something in the gurney clicks and whirs and she slips back into catatonia.

That brief moment of clarity, that piercing gaze, unsettles me. She recognized me.

It's neural bleed. I know it has to be. She doesn't know me, but Morrigan does.

Good god. In the pilot's present state of post combat haze, she probably doesn't even know where she ends and the machine begins.

Does neural bleed work both ways? Is it her head that I'm about to climb into?

My wrist strap buzzes. I have a job to do and I am late.

The pilot is a problem for the med team and the psychs.

The machine is my problem.

I hurry down the corridor, keeping my head down, avoiding the eyes of every passerby.

I don't like people.

I don't like how their eyes follow me. I don't like the whispered gossip that follows me.

One of the techs is waiting for me at the vestibule.

I don't know his name.

All clear, he says to me. Time to work your magic.

He says it without sarcasm. Others have been less kind.

Even so, he can't quite hide the leer as I strip down to the skinsuit. I don't have the physique of a pilot. My body hasn't been subjected to the stresses that ravage their bodies. Unlike them, I have fat and muscle and the skinsuit clings to every curve of my body.

I force a cursory smile and try to forget him as I walk barefoot to my destination.

The vestibule is small, windowless. It's impossible to assess the scale of the machine from here. The only part visible to me is roughly four square meters of pitted and scarred metal plating framing the access hatch and the pilot's cradle beyond.

B0-987T the stenciled lettering reads. And below, in flowing script, is “The Morrigan”.

She's a Javellin class, medium weapons fire support unit. She isn't meant to be on the front lines in a skirmish, but one-on-one, she can hold her own against a Wraith. Which is exactly what happened only a few hours ago.

I place a bare palm on the bulkhead. She thrums with some distant vibration. Her reactor is still online, still in the early stages of drawdown as she transitions to dock power.

“Hey beautiful,” I say to her.

I think of the pilot. I think of piercing blue eyes and I think of neural bleed.

I flinch my hand away.

The tech looks at me, asks if I'm alright. I'm fine, I tell him.

I climb through the hatch and into the cradle.

I feel like an interloper here. The cradle isn't calibrated for my body. Everything still smells like the pilot. Mingled with the smell of the machine is her sweat and her adrenaline and the particular scented soap that she prefers.

There is a faint whirring as her cameras track my movements from a dozen angles. The access ports open to receive me.

Against my better judgment, I imagine eagerness for this exchange.

This is immediately followed by an all too familiar sense of inadequacy. The engineers’ rig is not nearly as all encompassing as a pilots’. It's only the most basic neural interface. No haptics. No neurotransmitter feedback. No access to the suite of sensors studded throughout her hull.

I can't interface with her the way her pilot can.

My rig is a remnant from basic training. The pilot corps wanted me for my exceptional ratings in synchrony and neuro-elasticity, but after serval training exercises, they determined that I didn't have the temperament for the battlefield. I froze up too easily.

A neural rig is a massive investment and removing one will fuck a person up a hell of a lot more than installing one. The selection process is designed to weed out washouts before we even get to installation, but some of us still slip through the cracks. Most end up reassigned to logistics, operating loader mechs or piloting long haul supply frigates. But my aptitudes made me ideal for the engineering corps, so here I am.

Morrigan senses my mood and the cradle shifts slightly, aligning itself to my dimensions. Her eagerness to connect morphs into a sort of tender reassurance. It's a slippery slope, ascribing human emotions to these machines, but she does seem genuinely happy to see me.

I can never be part of what she and her pilot have, but I can be part of something in my own way.

The pilot knows about me, she would even without neural bleed. Does she envy the relationship I have with her mech? Does she envy that I can exist both together and apart with the machine?

Is she jealous of us?

Morrigan slips her jacks into my rig and my mind enters hers and I feel tension leave my body. Some dull ache that I wasn't even consciously aware of ebbs within me.

My senses dull and my visual cortex is fed a series of diagnostic logs and telemetry streams. The techs have access to the exact same data, but Morrigan highlights particular data points that she and the pilot flagged. I log them in the engineering report.

A wireframe schematic of the battlefield spreads out in my awareness. Green markers for our battlegroup. Red markers for the pack of Wraith interlopers.

I hear the ghost of music, strange and ambient, like whale song. The first time I heard it, I asked the techs about it. They had no idea what I was talking about. One even suggested I get an eval for some psych leave.

Later I realized Morrigan was singing to me. Or rather she was interpreting tightbeam comm links as something my brain could process. A human mind can't possibly interpret the full datastream, but with Morrigans's rendition, I can suss out the basic meanings. The battlegroup is a choir and Morrigan is playing me their song.

I caused quite a stir when I first made that connection and started flagging battle events the analysts had missed.

I survey the battlefield before me, reconstructed from feeds from TacCom and all the individual mechs.

Morrigan and I have done this enough times that she knows my preferred display layout, but she holds back, allowing me to pull off the virtual displays on my peripheral vision. There's an odd sort of intimacy to it, her letting me take charge like this.

God-knows how many tons of metal and ceramic and miles and miles of wire and optic fiber and see waits eagerly for me to start the playback sim. She wants to show off. She wants me to assess the actions of her and her pilot and tell them they did well.

Other engineers, few as we are, have mentioned similar experiences with their assigned machines.

“Alright,” I whisper so that only she can hear. “Show me the dance. Sing me the song.”

(Next)