#it was so liminal. I can't stop thinking about it

[phantom-does-a-thing]

i wish I could paint the place in my dream. I cant. get it out of my head. There was something there I know it. Something.

[wellofdean]

I wanted to make a separate pose to big up these excellent tags on this post about how a show can be about misogyny when it's about men from @deangirlism101 :

#by virtue of watching the show long after it stopped airing and after years of exposure to the fandom#I've experienced a very interesting phenomenon wherein i went in expecting a very straightforward male fantasy#specifically in regards to dean#and was continuously surprised by how dean was around women who were actual characters and not caricatures#with caricatures of women dean also becomes a caricature of a womanizer#but with woman characters? with victims and friends?#dean is constantly paternal/brotherly#endlessly protective and respectful#in fact dean's utter lack of sexualization of the complex women around him in the first few seasons#kind of had me thinking he might just be straightforward gay#additionally it's interesting to point out that dean is the only one of the three winchesters who does not have a#''symbolic woman'' that drives his narrative#i.e. of the three winchesters he is the one who engages with the women around him as people and not someTHING to give him ''purpose''#which ties pretty well into his own role in his family being a typically femenine one#john endlessly relies on dean to serve the role of his mother yet he resents him when he does it so naturally#which from a queer lense is pretty much spelling out ''john can't put his finger on it but something (queerness) about dean bothers him''#anyways it just surprises me how#the fandom has perpetuated this image of the characters#and how#ironically#that image is the exact caricature dean so obviously puts on and we so obviously are supposed to KNOW he puts on

Some really nice points here, and bang on target:

Dean is not called to his adventure/journey because a symbolic woman dies like John and Sam are; he is put upon it by his father and his own sense of responsibility and love before he has the agency to choose. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love, and he wants not to be alone in a world of monsters...and...is HE a monster? A killer? Is everything his fault?

John resents Dean because what he needs from Dean (obedience, domestic work, emotional labour) is feminine. It's what women are for. Dean internalizes that resentment. Sam defies John and is driven by his own losses, and John can respect that, but Dean becomes the family repository of what they've lost. Dean is the eldest daughter who can never do enough.

John has chosen to abandon normal life and live on the fringes to pursue his revenge quest, and Sam is fighting to get back to the center -- left his family, hot girlfriend, Stanford Law, credit in the straight world, friends. But Dean? He has accepted that he will never be normal. He has accepted that he will always be a lonely, liminal weirdo who knows something terrible about the world that most people are spared from knowing.

Like:

If you leave Supernatural season 1 without realising that everything Dean pretends to be is pretty much the opposite of what he is, then you are not watching it right, full stop. The Dean Winchester he pretends to be is a character invented by a terrified, homeless, wounded little boy who doesn't know how else to protect himself.

Second, if you can't see how totally fucking queer all that is, I CAN'T HELP YOU. And,

you cannot hit that many nails on the head without knowing where you're swinging your hammer, and in conclusion, Dean was always deeply queered, and that was in the DNA of his character.

The truth is, that Dean is a very cohesive character. He is written and performed beautifully, and with intention. He is not an accident, he is an artistic creation, and he is excellently drawn. I am not "giving the writers too much credit", I am taking an Occam's Razor-type view of it, and coming up with the simplest explanation for what I see on the screen.

That said, if by some insane magic trick they managed to make Dean this queer by accident? It doesn't matter what they intended, because THE TEXT IS WHAT IT IS. I don't need the permission of the authors to see a church by daylight, and Dean is THAT OBVIOUS.

[xythlia]

𓏲 ࣪₊➷ LOW SHOULDER

› it's been raining hard asf all day today which inspired this (rainy weather makes my brainrot worse & really I just wanna fuck him in my car <3)

› satoru x f!reader

› word count : 1k+

warnings : reckless driving, fingering, reader wears a skirt, car sex, messy sex, light manhandling, creampie, quickie lmk if I missed anything im too eepy

"I'm just saying, you might wanna pull over," Satoru hummed, fiddling with the aux chord hanging from your dashboard radio.

"It's fine," you say, more to convince yourself than him.

The rain has been coming down in sheets, fat droplets smacking violently against your windshield as your headlights struggle to cut through the deluge and the dark, forcing you to squint for any visibility. You've been alternating between a slow crawl and normal speed, but as your tires lose traction in a particularly nasty pool of water on the road your grip on the wheel turns white knuckle.

"We're almost there anyway," you mutter, irritation high in your voice, trying not to show how that brief hydroplane rattled you.

You knew he was right, but it felt like a poor idea to waste time sitting on the shoulder of the road in the dark until the storm let up.

"Feeling stubborn tonight?" his tone is light, mischievous. You don't dare take your eyes off the road but your brow furrows, about to tell him now isn't the time for antics until the warm caress of his hand against your thigh makes you jump in your seat, the seatbelt catching.

His hand doesn't stop, lithe fingers trailing a path up beneath your skirt to trace the hem of your panties, nudging his thumb dangerously close to your clit. It feels like your hearts pounding through your throat, and your pussy.

"Satoru what-"

"You didn't want to stop, right? So drive." he says airly, as if his fingers aren't stroking against you through your underwear, as if he can't feel how wet you are, as if this is just an ordinary action.

You swallow thickly, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard you think you might snap it in half. He keeps his hand there for what feels like an eternity, and out of your peripheral you can tell he's smugly enjoying the way your breathing takes up an uneven pace, the way you struggle to justify not immediately pulling over.

Really, you don't want to give him the satisfaction.

Your thighs flex together, the muscles on the verge of cramping and you can't help the whimper that escapes you as his thumb presses down firmly against your clit. If you didn't have any wherewithal you probably would've jerked the wheel, sending you both flying into a ditch.

"I can't," you finally snap, "I'm pulling over."

Before you start slowly putting weight on the break his finger pushes past the hem of your panties, swiping through your soaked slit as your breathing hitches. Broken gasps crowd the air in the car as he plunges a finger inside you, making you slam your foot on the brake as the car rocks you both forward on the shoulder of the road.

"I thought we were almost there anyway?" He teased, curling his finger against your walls and making you squish his hand between your thighs as you frantically pressed them together, struggling to shift the car into park.

"We would've been," you cut yourself off in a moan, pressing your forehead to the steering wheel to catch your breath. "If you could control yourself-"

"Not my fault you wore that cute little skirt today," you hear his seatbelt unbuckle before feeling his fingers ghost against the back of your neck. "Plus you're so stubborn, it drives me crazy."

You leaned back, trying to control your breathing as he flipped your skirt up and added a second finger as your thighs relaxed. The windshield was already fogging, making it feel like only the two of you existed on this desolate stretch of roadway, or like you'd accidentally crossed the threshold of some liminal place.

"Toru-" you mumbled as his lips found yours, speaking into his mouth as one whispers to a revenant, "Need more, s'not enough."

As your eyes flutter open you see a cocky grin painting his features, it makes your cunt clench around his fingers. You always give in so easily when it's him.

You clamber awkwardly over to the passenger seat after he withdraws his fingers, straddling his hips and popping the buttons of your blouse as his hand gently massages over your tummy and those crystalline eyes devour every plane of skin in his view.

"Isn't this better?," he asks, voice on the edge of hoarseness before your lips capture his in an all consuming kiss, the kind that burns away the senses to leave you raw and aching.

Whines pass from your lips to his as he digs his fingers into your ass, spurring the movement of your hips as you grind down against his clothed erection. Your eager hands work the buttons and zipper of his pants open, pulling his swollen, leaking cock out and stroking it gently, smearing precum around the flushed tip.

"You wanted to do this the whole time," you whisper, lips hovering just barely against his own as you smirk. His cock glides easily through your wet folds as he keeps your panties pulled to the side, slipping the tip inside with ease. The way Satoru groans beneath you makes your head spin, getting easily intoxicated off the rising heat and the way he fills you up like he was meant to be inside you.

"Pervert," you drawl against the shell of his ear, bracing one hand against the headrest as the other tugs on his alabaster locks. As you slide down to the hilt you roll your head back, enjoying the feeling of being full of him while he squeezed your breasts through your bra.

His hips buck up, catching you off guard as he sucked a sloppy trail down the side of your neck.

"I'm gonna fuck you until you cry," you don't get a chance to respond, squealing as he sets a brutal, frantic pace bouncing you up and down on his cock. The messy squelching of being in such a confined space makes your chest burn, hot with equal parts arousal and embarrassment.

He can easily reach your most sensitive spots, too deep for your fingers to brush, as you claw at the headrest in a last ditch attempt to anchor yourself against the flames curling around the edges of your mind, pressure building hard and fast inside your abdomen.

Through ragged breaths he mocks you, "You love getting fucked by a perv in your car huh? Like a slut-"

His thrusts become slow but no less deep, his fingers digging into your ass, surely to leave behind wine stain bruises and half moon indents of his nails in your skin. It feels like you're listening to him speak through a cardboard tube pressed to your ears, a lightness permeating your body as you feel that pop of pressure in your gut.

Your mouth drops open in a silent wail, eyes screwed shut as your thigh muscles flex so hard it feels like they're made of stone. His fingers circle your sensitive clit, flicking against it just to hear you yelp.

You shake in his hold, hands twisting the fabric of his shirt and press your face against the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

"You gonna cry, baby?" He cooed, one hand gripping the back of your neck as a mother cat grips her kittens. "Lemme see-"

Maybe it's the look of your watery eyes, pupils blown out and brimming with lust, that do him in but Satoru doesn't last much longer, pressing his forehead to yours as he holds your hip down in his other hand, as if he could meld you two together from sheer willpower alone.

Sitting held prone by his grip you can feel his cock throbbing with every spurt of cum that floods your cunt, your skin quickly becoming chilled by the sheen of sweat as you pant.

You feel cold and heavy as stone as you wind your arms around his neck, pressing haphazard kisses to his cheek and enjoying the way he nuzzles his nose against you.

In the quiet of the car the sound of the rain slowing is what drags you back to be present in your body. No longer the sound of harsh, unrelenting drops pelting the metal but a gentle murmuring pitter-patter that soothes your overloaded nerves.

"You're still a pervert," you finally say, lifting off his lap and readjusting your panties. Feeling his cum seep out against the fabric sends a shiver of satisfaction down your spine once your back in the driver's seat.

"I'm a pervert that was right about pulling over though," he cheekily shoots back while tucking his cock back into his pants before giving you one of his characteristic easy smiles.

"Don't let it go to your head," you sigh, shifting gears to drive and flicking on your turn signal.

[etherfabric]

Messages for Reassurance + Songs

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

You are the ultimate authority over your life. I merely provide my perspective. Sometimes the Universe lines you up with something that doesn't resonate with your truth, so you have contrast to find out what does. Never give away your power.

Pile 1

Knight of Cups, High Priestess

The hope inside of you is not delusion. You are safe to go after the things that seem promising and enriching. The days where you couldn't hear your gut well enough to listen to it are gone. Serendipities of various sizes permeate your day to day life, and it feels almost to good to be true. Did you really make it? Yes, dear. You did. You embraced your shadows enough to bask in the sun again.

Of course this is no utopia, and the frights of the past have sharpened your foresight to real possibilities, but believe yourself when you can't feel any danger closeby. You are stronger, smarter, and in better company than ever before. Now all there is left to do is putting some weight in those timid steps towards your bliss. Don't worry about tripping - you'll land on your foundation and get up again, eyes forward, one foot in front of the other. You will get there as soon as you fully arrive internally, and you are so close to completion already. You will see it once you believe it.

Pile 2

6 of Wands, The Hanged Man

You are exactly where you are supposed to be, in the exact context and circumstances you see at this very moment, inside and out. The conditions are perfect for you thrive in. You might have to get a little unorthodox in your approaches, and the shape of other people's successes sometimes clouds your inspiration, but let good be good enough for now. Think of past you - they prayed to have what you have now.

Okay, yes, they were a little misguided in a few details of their wishes (thankfully rejection is divine protection), and in thinking once you would be here, everything would be perfect - life is still life, you are still human - but the lessons that led you here widened your understanding of how everything had to happen this way. Guess what, future you will look back at this very moment with the exact same wisdom and compassion.

You can work with what you have at your disposal and rightfully expect the glory of tangible progress. Just keep doing what you are doing already, keep it simple and managable, and there will be nothing significant standing in your way. Those bouts of stagnation? That's where the depth of your skills comes from in the first place. Just like muscles, the soul and mind need their periods of liminal passivity to come back with full force to charge you ahead. You are on the right track. You are doing great. You can be proud of yourself.

Pile 3

Page of Swords, 10 of Wands

Oh dear. It's okay to say you are tired. It's okay to break apart. It's okay to hurt and just want to quit it all. Why are you carrying all this by yourself, tasks and thoughts alike? Don't you know the relief once you put them both down? For the thoughts: Speak, write, scream. To somebody, or nobody. The most important part is admitting it. Then at least you are freed of the burden to act like everything is fine. I know you are scared, I know you wouldn't be in this situation in the first place if you knew for sure you could let go. But I trust in the magic of coincidences, and you reading this right now tells me you need to stop swimming against the current and let the flow carry you downstream.

Stop clinging to things that only stay if you wreck yourself. The tide will wash them out of your hands anyway, because soon you will reach your body's limits, and then the decision will be made for you. Let the dam break. Let nature take its course. You are so smart and truly believed the best, I can see that, and it's no lack of character that caused things to go this way. But this wasn't meant for you. I know it hurts. I hurt with you. But once you stop fighting gravity, you will be drawn to what is truly for you. Put the burden down. I know you had the best intentions, but it's over. You can rest now.

Pile 4

9 of Cups, Knight of Pentacles

You already know this, but slow and steady does indeed win the race. Instead of doing a million things exhausting yourself, you are focusing on a handful of daily tasks, knowing they will lead you exactly where you want to be. Time and consistency are on your side. You know you don't have to be perfect and can always pick up where you left off. Appreciation from outside sources resonates with your own satisfaction about how things are playing out for you.

Your longterm goals seem closer than ever. You have your routine down pat, and trust in your ability of finding even better tweaks and spins for it in the future. This calm air of confidence looks so good on you! You have earned it. You can read the signs relative to your success, know which road to take, and which pitfalls to avoid. You feel incredibly rich and know how to pass the time until certain things come to fruition. It used to make you anxious when you were faced with slowpaced processes, and you fell back on less sustainable approaches to selfsoothe. Now you appreciate the journey itself, even welcome the delays, so you have ample time to smell the flowers on the side of the road.

[pokkeshii]

Ok so I saw this and thought

Thought

Because I really like his black hair without any hint of white, but like the concept of Phantom leaking through his "human body" is just so ugsjehwk cool.

Honestly here it's barely showing lfmao, I wanted to try at least four different ways him having white in his hair but I just wanted to post this already cuz I really liked it (I'll try and finish the other ones asap I promise).

Also I can't stop thinking about the implications of Phantom bleeding over Fenton. Besides liminal and spiritual really cool mesmerizing horrorific being he can be, I never seen anything besides him being cold and unvering to look at, to straight up ROTTING.

TW?

Like he realizing he doesn’t have much time before his body is putrid, start throwing up his insides, and at some point I’ll be impossible to hide the smell, the feeling of his soul truly dragging his own corpse.

But of course this is just a silly little fanart that doesn’t show any of that.

I'm new here so haven't read many fics (94 bookmarks WHAT) but I haven't touched any Corpse Au's and there is probably what I want ok I'm aware.

Any recs and I’ll drag you into the void under your bed where is no escape (affectionately) please.

Also i really like the sketch 🤍

[reddeaddamnation]

"Possession vs Obsession" - Sub-Zero x reader x Scorpion - Chapter I

"Father, I will not stand for this!" Bi Han lashed out, voice booming throughout the Lin Kuei temple, as he paced around angrily "You think me to be some sort of child who can't decide for himself who to wed?!" His eyes challenged those of his elder. If it was anyone else, Sub Zero would quickly be put in his place, but his father was a just and kind man, who thought of the future of the Lin Kuei, his sons and the peace between clans. For it was in an endless war between the Lin Kuei and the clan of Shadow-weavers that took the lives many from both sides. And peace would finally be achieved between both elders, who dreamed of a brighter future, since Y/N's father stepped into power.

"My word is final." His father cut him off, voice denying the opportunity to argue "You are the future of this clan and I will not allow anymore bloodshed between our clans, not now, not after you."

Y/N waited nervously at the entrance of the temple, shaking her legs back and forth on the bench she sat on. The Shadow-weavers delegation had long since left, leaving her alone in this unknown place. She didn't know if these people were friends or enemies at this liminal point in time. She could either not survive until morning or live a tolerable life among them. Suddenly, she heard footsteps. Her head snapped in the direction from where they came from.

"Hello." A boy with ashen hair approached with a smile. He didn't look familiar to the other Lin Kuei. "It's nice to meet you." The girl smiled shyly, hesitantly, but didn't answer. "I'm sorry about my brother. He can be...well...like himself..." he chuckled quietly "But I promise, we aren't all like that. I assure you, we want to stop fighting and enjoy peace." He motioned to the bench, asking silently if he could sit and she moved over to the side to give him space. "My name is Thomas." He introduced himself. "I'm Y/N." They shook hands, smiling. "It's nice to meet a friendly face." Y/N scoffed and returned to staring at the canyons among the mountain. "I apologize again if Bi Han scared you. He really left a bad impression." Thomas grimaced at the memory of his brother lashing out, not even acknowledging her presence when they were introduced to each other.

"I'm not exactly dying to be here either." Y/N murmured, irony in her words "He didn't need to remind me why I don't want this." Thomas stayed quiet for a moment "Well, I wish I could help you, but the least I can do is make your life here bearable." He suggested, smiling warmly "If you need anything or just want to talk, I'll be here for you. I know what it's like to be new." She looked at him puzzled "I'm not...I was adopted by the Grand Master... I know from experience Bi Han doesn't like change."

Y/N stared at him silently, not knowing what to say, except just nodding in understanding. "But don't worry. I'm sure everything will be okay with you two." Thomas reassured with a smile again "Have you met our other brother? Kuai Liang?" Y/N shook her head no. "Let's go find him. You shouldn't be alone and sulking. I'll show you around."

Thomas was a breath of fresh air for her. A friendly face and warm heart, unlike these frozen wastelands. She missed her home so. This mountain was cold. Freezing in a different way. The caverns, where her clan temple was built were also cold, yet cozy. The shadows embraced her and kept her warm and safe. Up here, out in the open, she felt vulnerable. It was unnatural. The boy who wielded smoke was talking as they walked but she didn't hear him. She only wished to find a shadowy corner to hide in.

"What?" She shook her head out of her trance when Thomas asked for her attention. "Can you show me a power your clan can do?" He asked with a grin. Y/N giggled. With a gracious raise of her arm, the shade of a tree twisted and scurried to form a ball in her open palm, snaking up her body. Thomas watched in awe. Her fingers danced around the ball, shaping and forming it until a bird was created. It took flight when the girl pushed it away with her hand and it returned to the shadow of the tree. "Impressive. I bet you have amazing warriors." He commented. "I was trained by the Grand Master himself." She shrugged as if it was nothing and grinned.

"That was impressive indeed." A new voice frightened her "I would love to see what you can do in combat." A man with black hair, tied in a bun approached them. He was dressed in yellow, unlike the blue uniform usual Lin Kuei warriors wear. He bowed his head lightly at her to show respect "Don't misunderstand me. That was not an invitation." He smirked.

"This is who I told you about." Thomas introduced. But Y/N didn't hear him. She was lost in his intense gaze, jaw ajar and eyes wide from the sight of him. She felt her knees weak, almost bending from the intensity. Someone was calling her name. But it came as an echo. This man only had to say a handful of words... and she was lost... how was it possible? His demeanor projected intensity as a whole. Fire. Bi Han also had the intense and dominant demeanor, but... he was cold. Unwelcoming...

"Y/N?" Kuai Liang's worried voice brought her back to reality. Even though she wished to hear it over and over again, as his voice sounded like the end of an ice age within her. She giggled nervously. Thankfully, her blushing face could be explained by the freezing bite of the ice cold air. "I...yes...that's me." She paced around in her place anxiously. The two boys shared a look. "Are you feeling alright?" Kuai Liang asked, worry tainting his beautiful eyes. "I...uh..." the girl started, trying not to sound too ridiculous "It's quite cold...I suppose I'm just not used to the weather."

The boys looked at each other again, puzzled. Scorpion was first to let it go and spoke. "I'm sure today was stressful for you. Would you like me to escort you inside to rest?" Her heart skipped a beat at the proposition. She smiled, stuttering out an affirmative sentence, hoping he doesn't catch on to her nervousness. "If you need help with anything, don't be afraid to tell me or Thomas." Nodding again, mindlessly, she allowed him to lead the way towards the room she will be staying in.

Of course, with her husband-to-be, about whom she had completely forgotten until he reminded her of his presence by almost barging into the room late into the evening and laying eyes on her. For a time, she thought he won't speak. "Don't think I will accept this arrangement just because my father said I must." He broke the silence, voice as cold as the powers he wielded. Y/N rolled her eyes, but chose to not argue any more than she needed to. "The thought hasn't even crossed my mind." She sneered sarcastically and turned her back on him. "I tolerate you, girl." His voice came as a warning "Don't change that." A scoff made his eye twitch in irritation "That's not my decision to make."

Bi Han stepped closer to her, slowly, calculating. "Choose your words carefully." Y/N sighed and turned around to face him. "Should I make space for you in this room or will you prefer to be sleeping elsewhere?"

[starry-bi-sky]

honestly your dpxdc clone au gives me life, its adorable as all hell and im a sucker for found family but with that being said, its so freaking hysterical to me that Danny is going full feral liminal menace at Wes any time hes near and Wes himself is still 100% into it the freak (affectionate) and thats not even pointing out the paralles it could possible create since danny and dames gives massive parallels to dick and damian and dick does have a thing for redheads.

yeesSSSSS! I was planning on hoarding this to myself but i can't not reply. and i'll be able to find this again with the clone^2 tag so win WIN. i'm so glad you are as delighted by this as me. It's so hilarious to me that Danny just becomes a complete freak whenever he spots Wes, and I'm the one who wrote it into existence. Like- like i don't know how to explain my vision in words but like, its like Danny sees Wes and immediately goes 'what can I do to make his day worse'. And then he goes and does it.

(honorary read more because i talk a lot)

He's relatively normal around his friends too, which makes him going full-fledged unhinged around Wes even funnier to me. Like, Danny will spout weird shit sometimes to Sam and Tucker, but usually its prefaced with him talking about patrol or there would be context before he said anything. With Wes? Though?? he will just. say anything, completely unprompted. Slings an arm around his shoulder like they've been buddies since primary school and then spits out a weird new fun fact he learned about the bodily anatomy while researching his latest cold case. All vaguely-threatening but utterly insane things to say as way to start a conversation.

And sometimes its not even that, he'll walk up to Wes and ask him if he saw the latest daytime fight between Phantom and Skulker. And then he'll say "yeah i missed it myself but I saw clips of it being posted online" and then watch Wes mentally explode him with his mind. or he'll disparage Phantom for having such a young partner with him, "Can you believe he'd let a kid fight ghosts with him? I'd never let my brother ghosthunt with me if I was Phantom."

All of this with such a deceptive look on his face but the most delighted, shit-eating gleam in his eyes. Wes is chewing glass and he wants to yell that he does let his brother fight ghosts with him. Also you told him yourself that nothing would've stopped your demonic (Wes' words) little brother from joining you.

Damian gets in on the fuckery occasionally, but since he's not around often with Wes about, it doesn't happen nearly as often as it does between Wes and Danny. Sam and Tucker know he's screwing with him too, and both of them are a little wary about him being careless with his secret id. But he's been doing this since he was 14-ish and it hasn't backfired yet. So. They're not actively stopping him.

Danny walks back to his lunch table after terrorizing Wes and Tucker just asks him what he said, because Wes was about as red as a tomato when he walked away. Danny offhandedly sighs and innocently says he tried to have a conversation about Phantom with him. Wes didn't seem to like it all that much. Weird.

And yes, yes. Wes is totally into it and is slightly enraged about this fact, because not even he knows why he's into it. The freak (affectionate). Danny gives him this troublemaker smirk, and i did say smirk, and Wes doesn't know whether or not if he wants to smack him or kiss him. Or both. Like, yeah, pine, white boy, pine.

(And this is a dramatized image but I'm also highly entertained by the idea that Wes keeps getting routine dirty looks from various peers because they, too, have a crush on Fenton. Except Fenton doesn't talk to anyone else unless its his friends and sometimes Valerie, and Weston, the guy who keeps accusing him of being the local vigilante, is somehow routinely having conversations with him?? And BLOWING IT?? Like everyone else thinks he's fumbling so bad, and yet fenton keeps tALKING to him.)

And yes!! i'm always so pleased whenever someone brings up the parallels D+D have to Dick and Damian, because that was lowkey my intention when I was making the solo clone damian au. Although it was supposed to be more implied since I don't really know much about Damian and Dick other than they're very close and Dick was Damian's Batman for a year. And then of course the very smaller parallel (??) 'what if' between Bruce and Damian and D+D in clone^2 considering who they are both clones of.

And man this just makes me want to talk about when batfam meet D+D because I just want them to see D+D be so brotherly towards each other. Like I want them to see Bby Dames wearing his goofy fun fact shirts and stealing Danny's hoodies/flannels/etc and blatantly lying about it when Danny asks. Only for Danny to then throw him over his shoulder like Tadashi from BH3 and jump around.

And also. I do not know what Damian Wayne's (DW as I'll call him) stance on being called "Dami" is - the general consensus I've seen is that its usually used as a playful nickname in order to get a rise out of him, and he doesn't really like it.

But baby Dames being called that freely, and often, and its sometimes used to get a rise out of him but thats typically what nicknames do. Its used as easily as his full name is with the same amount of affection. And its like his main go-to nickname. "Dami" and "Dames" with the occasional "Bud/Buddy", "Squirt", "Little man", etc. Not once is he ever called 'demon-spawn'

(which i know is a fanon nickname but its a relatively popular nickname)

but yeah, uhhh. i think thats all of my thoughts on the matter. for now lmAO

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Part 8

Look at you lucky ducks! Two WIP Wednesday excerpts today! I'm afraid you won't be able to get used to it. Going forward I may update each fic on alternating weeks. I have a busy few months coming up if everything goes to plan and could use the buffer in case I can't get much writing done. We'll see, though.

I'm going to start leaving a fic summary at the beginning of every excerpt in case people find this in the wild and want to know what they're getting into.

Summary: Danny is finally going to meet Jazz's boyfriend Jason. At Jason's family's mansion. He spent weeks making sure he could have an evening off of any Ghost King business. But when he meets Jason on the steps of the mansion, he can barely pay attention to the guy because his focus is on the ghost of the dead Robin hanging off his shoulders. Who is very happy to find someone who can actually see him.

Word Count: 1.4k

First, Previous

----------

“Right. Um… Well, I do just kinda do whatever is necessary or find someone who can. Because, um, well, I’m… kinda the High King of the Infinite Realms? There’s a bunch more titles after that but I refuse to memorize them because ugh.”

Danny looked down at his plate, not wanting to see everyone’s reactions. Jazz must’ve made sure he got a piece of pie because it sat in front of him. It looked so good. Did they even know about the Infinite Realms? Justice League Dark members did, but did Batman? Jazz reached over and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Tim and Barbara’s typing seemed to get faster. And then a pair of pixie boots and legs settled on the table next to his plate. He looked up and met Robin’s eyes.

Robin reached out an poked Danny on the nose. He gave a little trill of safe, friends drawing a smile out of Danny.

At the same time, Duke exclaimed, “That’s why you have a crown!”

And Steph said, “Okay, I may be out of the loop, but what the hell are the Infinite Realms?”

Damian snorted. “Aren’t you too young to be a king of anything?”

Danny half stood. “Look, do you want to go spar or something? Is that why you keep picking fights? Because we can do that. Fighting is good for young liminals. But I really don’t think this is the time or place.”

Jazz groaned and dragged him back into his seat. “Stop it, Danny. You’re on Earth right now.” Speaking over Danny’s protests, she explained to Damian, “We wish. Managed to get them to delay until he turned eighteen at least, but his grandfather wouldn’t let us wait any longer than that.”

Danny let the fight drop, but he did notice how Damian’s grip on his spoon tightened. Looked like they would be having that spar tonight if Damian had anything to say about it. Still, Jazz was right and he had to follow human customs on Earth so he bumped his sister’s shoulder and spoke to her instead. “You know as well as I do that he would’ve if it was possible. But thanks to Pariah, there are things that haven’t been done in a thousand years and it’s been causing so many problems.”

“Steph,” said Barbara. “The Infinite Realms are the spaces between universes according to Constantine. His documentation states that the Realm’s inhabitants are all incredibly overpowered and should not be approached under any circumstances. Just one being can evade all methods of capture with standard supplies.”

Jazz nodded. “And our parents dedicated their lives to building a portal to the Infinite Realms, or the Ghost Zone as they call it, and destroying all ghosts.”

“By ‘ghosts,’” asked Bruce, “Do you mean beings from these Infinite Realms?”

Jazz nodded. “Yes. Most beings from the Infinite Realms come into being when a living creature dies in a traumatic way, with a lot of emotion, or near a large source of ectoplasm. Usually some combination of all three.”

Both Tim and Bruce tried to ask further questions, but Jason’s voice cut in over theirs. “Jazz, when you say your parents wanted to ‘destroy all ghosts,’ did they stop after Danny’s accident?” Jason’s question did, at least, cause silence to fall as everyone stared at the two siblings.

Jazz looked down and gripped the tablecloth tightly, jaw clenched. Now it was Danny’s turn to lay a comforting hand over hers.

“No,” Danny said. “They didn’t. They didn’t know what happened for several years and when they found out… Well, there’s a reason I can’t use their last name and Jazz won’t call them ‘Mom’ or ‘Dad’ anymore. But”—Danny clapped his hands—“this is a great segway into what is actually important. Does the Justice League know about the Guys in White? More formally known as the Ghost Investigation Ward? Or even just GIW?”

“That name is unfamiliar to me,” said Bruce.

Tim agreed. “Babs and I aren’t seeing anything in the JL databases.”

Even Robin just shrugged.

Danny didn’t expect the jolt of pain that sent through his chest and Jazz turned their hands around until they were gripping each other’s hands with more force than any baseline human would’ve been able to.

“I told you, Danny. They didn’t know. They didn’t know.” Her eyes were wet, but she forced a shaky smile. “You could’ve had help.”

Danny just shook his head. “Even if I had believed they didn’t know… Without meeting them, without knowing how many of their own were in danger, I would’ve never trusted them. Too many people rely on me for me to risk it.”

“Care to enlighten the rest of us?” asked Dick. His posture was relaxed, but his voice had an edge that hadn’t been there earlier.

Robin nodded from where he sat staring at Danny. He sent out a questioning Danger? pulse at Danny.

“Yeah, danger,” agreed Danny. “Barbara, Tim, if I give you a law code number, can you pull up the law I’m referring to?”

“Of course,” agreed Barbara. “Just a moment… And shoot.”

Danny gave them the code for the Anti-Ecto Acts. “The Guys in White are the government agency responsible for enforcing the Anti-Ecto Acts which classify all ‘ectoplasmic entities’”—he made the air quotes—“as non-sentient and non-sapient and excludes us from the metahuman protection acts.”

“What the fuck!” shouted Duke.

Next to Danny, Dick suddenly was sitting up tense. “That’s impossible.”

“The league would’ve noticed such an act being passed,” said Damian, though he didn’t look as sure as his words would seem.

Cass merely tilted her head and looked at him while Steph choked on her drink.

Bruce looked to Tim and Barbara. “Is this true?” he asked them.

Robin pointed to himself and mouthed the word ‘Me?’ at Danny.

“I’m afraid so. And Bruce, Cass, Steph, and Damian as well.”

Dick’s spluttering got louder. “How are they all in danger?” he demanded to know.

Before Danny could reply, Tim was speaking. “It’s all true. And far worse than Danny implied. Not only are ecto-entities not protected by the metahuman protection laws, but they are to be actively hunted and turned over to the GIW for experimentation and extermination and anyone who assists them is declared guilty of treason.”

“When did they pass?” asked Bruce.

“Four years ago,” said Barbara. “While Luthor was president. They were hidden in some laws about green energy.”

“Ghost are made of ectoplasm,” explained Jazz. “Ectoplasm is a fantastic energy source.”

“It happened a few months after I defeated the previous king but before my coronation,” added Danny.

“Why do you think myself, Damian, Cass, Stephanie, and Jason will be targeted by this Ghost Investigation Ward?”

“It’ll be easier to show you.” Danny reached down and pulled up his bag. The thing was made in Pandora’s realm and was bigger on the inside. Once open, it took him a moment to find what he was looking for. He could see Robin signing to the group next to him. “Here we are,” Danny said as he pulled out three devices. “These are all different ectoplasm detection devices. One is my own design, one is the Guys in White’s design, and one is my parent’s design. I’ll show you mine first because it’s the best.”

“Might be a dumb question,” started Dick, “but what the hell is ectoplasm?”

“So you know how all the elements in this universe came about from nuclear fusion of hydrogen in the cores of stars?” asked Danny. When most everyone nodded, he continued, “In the Infinite Realms, that base element is ectoplasm. But there’s no need for a star to transform it into anything else. It will mold to the shape any consciousness that interacts with it wants. When sentient creatures slip through, either by a portal or through death or any other means, they shape the part of the Realm they’re in to their will. The stronger the ghost, the larger the area they control.” Holding out his hands, Danny called forth a ball of ectoplasm, shaping it into a glowing-green ice duck. “Something like this,” he commented grinning around the table.

Only to be met with horrified looks as most of the table were staring at his hands with distrust. Damian had his knife out again. Jason, his gun with the other arm held protectively in front of Jazz. Bruce was standing and Cass tense.

“What’s wrong?” asked Danny. “It’s just an ice duck sculpture. Completely harmless.”

Jason’s voice was low and threatening. “It’s an ice duck made of Lazarus water.”

More alarming than his voice was the way his eyes glowed ecto-green and the fear-anger that filled the room.

----------

Next

Challenge: Stay on one topic for more than two sentences.

Outcome: Failed.

They keep getting side tracked with more questions. And Danny still hasn't had a bite of his pie. This evening will never be over.

Tag List Part 1

@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost, @emeraldcorpral, @all-mights-asscheeks, @darkhinauniverse, @blep-23, @phandomhyperfixationblog, @larkcoe1, @thegatorsgoose, @job-ross-the-second, @britcision, @lenacraft, @bubblemixer, @androgynouslordofescapism, @purefrickingspite, @leftmiraclechaos, @lizisipancardo, @starlight-sparks, @miraculousandmore, @gildedphoenix, @sometimesthingsfallapart, @letmesayfuxk, @phoenixcatch7, @skulld3mort-1fan, @abaowo, @dhampir-princess, @idkmrpianoman, @sarina-elais, @ballzfrog-blog, @undead-essence, @spookytragedyshark, @flyingpansaurus, @akintoabitch, @marivictal, @8-29pm, @justreadingthefanfics, @happybear135, @kisatamao, @spoopyspoony, @adorablechaos, @sara0055, @screamingtofillthevoid

Looks like 50 is the limit for active user tags in a post. Good to know

[astranite]

WIP oh-it-is-actually-Wednesday

This started from a prompt that I now can't find the post of and some ideas of @edutainer2022 's, and then my own, becoming John violently protecting an injured Scott from someone who wants to finish off the job. Warning for injury and hospital setting but we dont get further than that yet. Also general angstyness.

---

John’s chin slipped off his fist for the fifth time in not as many minutes. The hospital was simultaneously eerily quiet and noisily threatening in the liminal way they all were, no matter how many time zones you crossed. 

Nurses footsteps sounded across the endless maze of identical halls outside their little room, always on their feet. Call bells screamed at John that something was wrong and he needed to act on it, no matter that they weren’t for him. He wasn’t on Five. He wasn’t in uniform. He only had one duty here. 

Other patients clattered and machinery clamoured, the cacophony scraping against his skin, swirling into a single mass where he couldn’t tell apart friend from threat. The world spun as John jerked upwards again, after slipping into the jaws of sleep. He pried them off with a Tracy’s determination. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Scott. His eyes blurred, itchy with exhaustion until he rubbed at them with his knuckles.

The private room at the end of the building was too quiet, if taken on its own. Any room that contained Scott shouldn’t be this silent, John was nauseous even thinking about it, but there was his big brother swathed in pale hospital sheets, lying limply on the mattress instead of tossing, turning and pacing even in distress. He wasn’t meant to be still. If he was happy, he’d be in constant motion, in constant, running flight. He’d fidget, he’d lazily sprawl across the couch one second then dash across the room the next and wind up perched on a counter or desk, and when he had to stand in the same place he’d be even then wriggling his toes and shifting his weight between his feet, swinging his arms between broad gestures and parade rest. If he was upset, the movements would be louder, suddenly explosive even but he’d be moving. 

This was the antithesis of a joyful Scott. Unnatural consciousness wasn’t something John hadn’t seen before, he’d seen Scott knocked out and concussed, or dosed up to his gills with painkillers. This here wasn’t even that, Scott’s body needed the rest with words such as hypovolemic shock thrown around too few hours ago. 

John should only be glad he was getting some sleep. Should stop being such a child that he wanted to tug on Scott’s hand, to yell talk to me, play with me, let’s read about piloting space shuttles together, to wake him up. Selfishly, he wanted to drag Scott right back to him. No matter that it was John’s fault he was here, when came down to it. John could run every calculation so that the answer pointed back to himself.

Grandma and all the doctors and nurses said that Scott needed to rest. Virgil had said it as he left the room at the beginning of their nightshift turned over to John, brushing Scott’s curls off his forehead with a gentle, unsteady hand, blue eyes trying to follow him, dark bruised stamped beneath dark brown eyes. Virgil had been the one with Scott when it happened, the one to hold him stable by his fingernails, packing the gaping hole in his side around the shard of metal that had once been part of a home, as Gordon flew Two to [auckland general??] as if chased by all the hell hounds of the underworld. John had been the one to cut off camera feed to Allie sitting on the Island doing his school work. He had arranged the trauma surgeons to be ready upon touchdown. 

Virgil had murmured Please don’t let anything happen to him, towards the windows at the back of the room beyond Scott’s bed, looking out to the stars. John didn’t know if it was meant to be a prayer to the universe at large or to him. When it all came back to it, it meant him. Virgil had squeezed his shoulder lightly before he left; whether he was seeking comfort or to comfort John, John had ran his hand down Virgil’s arm to grip his wrist, fingers rubbing at the protruding bone beneath flannel cuff.

Scott hadn’t moved since then, stirring only when nurses woke him up like John didn’t get to to check his responsiveness and note it down on their charts. The endless glowing boxes had twisted and melted the harder John tried to decipher the number, orange, black and blue bleeding into each other. 

One had paused in their rounds to drape an extra blanket around John. He hadn’t noticed he was shivering. The nurse had a rainbow sticker and googly eyes stuck to their identification badge. The eyes wobbled with their every step. John wobbled with his every step when he came in, wasn’t that special.

He and Scott were still in the same places.

His brother looked dead. 

John flinched from the thought. 

He so easily could’ve been because someone had done this on purpose and the others might be oh so grateful they didn’t ‘succeed’ but to John this looked pretty fucking like success. Scott was hurt. John had been supposed to keep him safe, to see the threats and deal with them before this happened. Therefore he had failed. John had. Not Scott, never Scott, not even when he’d fallen on the pile of debris after fighting an armed and armoured assailant until the aggressor fled.

Was it bad luck that a twist of metal roofing had broken Scott’s fall? Was it good luck it wasn’t immediately fatal, was it good luck that it had missed his vital organs, taking only blood? 

Did the universe, no matter how much John loved it, simply not care?

The room blurred, not only from exhaustion or his terrible eyesight again but John blinked the sparkles away and continued to stare at Scott.

[kinglazrus]

this isn't the beginning (but it's a start)

Danny Fenton can never go home. The same buildings are there. The same streets. Maybe even some of the same faces. But two decades in the Ghost Zone have siphoned away his memories, and Amity Park has changed while he’s been gone. He has one tether anchoring him to the life he’s forgotten, and when it breaks, he risks losing every scrap of himself that he’s worked for in the past two years. Desperate, Danny sets off in search of something, anything, familiar in the place he once called home. Meanwhile, Casper High has a new teacher with stars in his eyes. A series of not-quite first impressions upon Danny's return to Amity Park — An AU where Portal Danny went missing his senior year of high school.

Characters: Danny Fenton, Vlad Masters, Kwan, Mr. Lancer (mentioned), Original Characters, Original Child Character(s)

Tags: Eldritch Danny Fenton, minor Portal Danny, minor Void Danny, outsider POV, space core, liminal spaces, Comes Back Wrong, you can never go home, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Teacher Danny Fenton

Read on Ao3

Chapters on Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Cover by @lil-yardstick

Glass figures by @what-even-is-sleep

For Invisobang 2024! Had a fantastic time working with Yardstick and Blazing. Please go check out their art! The cover Yardstick made is so cool (I can't stop thinking about Danny's ghost design), and Blazing's glass figures are amazing.

[spacedace]

hey in your tags you mentioned a “batfam leverage au” can u explain what that is

Happily! :D

So I'm not sure if you're familiar with the show Leverage, but the quick summary is that it's about a group of "bad guys" (a hacker, a hitter, a grifter, a theif and the mastermind that directs them all) that help people who have been hurt by the rich and powerful by using their skills to pull heists and cons on the bad guy of the episode to ruin them and get back whatever was taken/right whatever was made wrong.

It's an amazing show that I can't recommend enough, very clever, very funny, big found family vibes and an OT3 that's *this close* to being canon (and has been supported by the writers). The heists are amazing and it's all around an AMAZING show.

Anyway, the BatPham Leverage Au is basically just: a collection of DP & BatFam members join together to make a robin hood heist team like in the show Leverage. I have a couple versions of the BatPham Leverage AU rattling around my head, but most fleshed out right now are:

Business of Family - the Uncle Oz AU (Penguin Adopts Jazz & Danny): My plan for this story is for Jazz and Danny to decide to start running heists in Gotham on the people in the city that tend to fly under Batman's radar but who are still very much doing a lot of harm to the city and it's people. The Leverage AU part of this story is going to have Jazz as the Mastermind, Jason as the Hitter, Tim as the Hacker, Danny as the Thief/Maker (basically engineer), and Elle as the Grifter (shapeshifting Elle for the win lol).

Another Leverage AU I've been thinking about for awhile but that I haven't turned into a story yet is one where Team Phantom (Danny, Jazz, Sam, Tucker & Elle) are tasked with finding and returning various Infinite Realm artifacts that have ended up in the mortal world. And for some reason Gotham has just so many Infinite Realm artifacts in it. Like most of the artifacts in the world are in Gotham for some wild reason (it's Gotham there doens't need to be more of a reason).

They're on the run from the GIW/Fentons, so they're trying not to advertise any ghostly/liminal powers if they can help it, so they largely do heists without powers (minus Tucker doing all his hacking and everything from the Ghost Zone and some occasional invisibility/intangibility when it's called for, but they really do try and keep any power use to a minimum).

In this AU, Jazz is the Mastermind (again, because I love that role for her haha), Tucker is the Hacker, but that's when I can't quite decide who should be who.

I love the idea of Sam being a Hitter, but I think she'd be able to play Grifter pretty well knowing the rich as well as she does, Danny would love being a Hitter and being able to fuck some assholes' shit up while being completely feral but he could also still be a good Thief. Elle could go either Grifter again, but I like her as a Theif in this one, maybe running into Damian in the vents while she's trying to get into a vault or something lol. (I think it'd go with Danny: Hitter, Sam: Grifter, Elle: Thief, but I have no idea if that'll stick if/when I ever write this lol)

Whatever the team looks like, because there are so many artifacts in Gotham & because they can't just use their powers willy-nilly to grab them and run, they're going to be in Gotham for a long time, possibly years. Which means they need some kind of side hustle to pay the bills, which leads them to doing more heists, but this time on various rich assholes that deserve to lose a bunch of money.

Eventually they get on the Bats radar, and there'd be some fun cat & mouse back and forth with the BatFam trying to catch the Phantom Crew (Danny shouldn't be allowed to name things, but he already told Red Robin that was their team name before anyone could stop him). Eventually the GIW do show up and things start getting even more complicated (and maybe someone activates an artifact, resulting in a powerful entity being released in Gotham that they all have to team up to fight).

I have no name for this au other than the DP X DC Leverage Au, but I do know that'll have plenty of Anger Management, Brain Dead (or really Brain Dead + Everlasting Trio, don't know what the ship name for that is), Serious Chaos.

It'll also have Batman aggressively trying to adopt them all because he doesn't actually have anything against them stealing from these assholes as long as they don't hurt anyone. They're acting outside of the law yes but they're doing it in order to give justice to those who have been made victims by the system and he's all about that (the real final battle of the story is between Bruce & Selina who both want to adopt the Pham, who would like to know if they get a say in any of this - they don't).

[wellofdean]

Thinking about @luckshiptoshore and her liveblog of watching Supernatural and how much I love following it and how great it is to watch someone just fucking ENJOY the show...

And then, there were a couple of people in my Discord who love the fic, but have never watched the show, and folks in there were trying to convince them that it was worth watching (duh!) and that knowing the show by heart makes the fic so much better and like yes, again... DUH! And then I was suddenly overcome with such a feeling of ENVY for all the people who still have the chance to watch Supernatural for the first time already knowing what happens in the end.

I mean, I watched 14 years of it in real time (after downloading and bingeing season 1) and at least I was clever enough not to be in the fandom trenches that whole time, and just enjoyed it for what it was, but the end broke my brain, and changed the whole show for me.

Because, like, here's what happens in Supernatural by the end: Dean and Cas are in love. It was not subtle. Dean can't say it because he never has a single moment of not being up to his pretty, pretty eyeballs in dealing with the ongoing and constantly multiplying trauma of being the man his father raised him to be, and god's specialest boy to boot, but in the end, Cas finally does just fucking say it. Not only that, he waits until he can use it to save Dean, and show him once and for all in an incontrovertible, undeniable way exactly how deeply and truly loved and SEEN he is.

When you watch it knowing that, knowing that the the whole story is going to end in that stupid bunker dungeon with Cas telling Dean who he is and dying to save him, the whole thing just HITS DIFFERENT, because the Dean of season one with his outcast liminality and pretty, pretty lips is the poor, lonely, weird boy who will one day be loved like that by Castiel, an angel of the lord -- an impossible Eldritch being who learned what love and selfhood are from closely observing Dean.

The consensus amongst most Supernatural fans is that it is trashy and bad and that its all evil queerbaiting, but I would contend that it's actually deeply entertaining, culturally rich and interesting (yes, even its flaws and missteps), often impressively well-written and acted, never puts on any airs about being prestige television or high art, but still manages to be ultimately epic and somehow sublime, and that it's a queer story, about queer love saving the universe, and it is so, so worth watching.

Like, my brainworms are not 'they strung me along all that time and then never let them make out', by brainworms are 'they told us so many times and in so many big and small ways, and now I need to watch every bit of it again and again and again so I can finally REVEL IN IT (and, friends, that is the Supernatural rewatch journey: realising it was ALWAYS THERE). My brainworms aren't 'but does Dean reciprocate??' they are: 'of course he loves Cas, and of course Cas knows that Dean loves him, and the one thing Cas can't have? That's just his chance at happiness and a soft epilogue with and for Dean, because Cas, impossible, cosmic, Eldritch being Cas, traded his chance at happiness for his family's lives and sacrificed himself for love of his son and Dean, because that is what you do when you love someone, and what he has watched Dean never stop doing for even a minute of his beleaguered life.'

And then, Dean dies (yes, it's stupid), and he cannot just go to heaven, drink a beer and hang out, he needs to climb into his magic soul vehicle, hit the axis mundi and tear the universe up looking for his angel and his happy ending in The Winchesters? Fuck me.

And like, it's the most romantic, and devastating story I have ever been told? And I love it so much?

[cuprohastes]

Visit strange new worlds... And ask, "What would a human do?"

Really, it was hard not to wail like a child who'd lost his tnkpt, thought Viska. It was how he felt right now and he suspected the big toothy thing outside wouldn't care much.

The only thing that was stopping him was that he was fairly sure it didn't know exactly where he was, and he didn't want to help out.

It'd been all fun at the start. He, Dr. Kraant, Ipsnig and the Human assigned to the survey to lift stuff and do Human things had gone out. The Human had helped him paint his scales a few days before and he was feeling very pretty and competent, and the Human had brought some of their human music that secretly Viska thought was pretty good, even if it needed to be a little higher pitched.

But then the big thing had attacked. Viska mentally named it Ergrig. It looked like an Ergrig. Something about the way it was drooling.

The human had grabbed Dr. Kraant, who had this theory that all predators had motion based vision, and flung him into the Sintral expedition car. Ipsnig had just leapt out the way and then there was dust and rocks spraying everywhere and the Ergrig was between him and the Sintral.

He'd dropped on all fours, and run, skidding around the vegetation, mud and rocks and finally he'd wedged himself in a small muddy gap, his gorgeous scale paints splattered and scratched, and of course the snazzing gwapruff thing had followed him.

And now he was stuck, and probably going to be eaten, and die. In that order.

He wished he was a Human. They always seemed to know how to deal with things.

He's asked their Human how they dealt with all the horrible creatures which all seemed to somehow have classified the human as not-food.

"I ask myself: What Saint Irwin would do?" They'd said, like it was funny. 

Viska wondered if this Saint Irwin would help out a poor muddy Tsin, or if you had to be Human to ask.

What he needed was a Saint Human to help Tsin out.

Or... maybe he should just ask: What would Human

And so, a few minutes later, the Ergrig, who'd been sure there was some little scaled food thing around here was very startled when a small male Tsin leapt up in front of it, scales on end like an angry pine cone, four arms splayed out, and gibbering in a manner that the Ergrig had never heard before.

It backed up, scrabbling, and the spiny thing lurched forward.

Like many predators, the Ergrig couldn't chance an injury. One of the big herbivores might have just kicked or gored Viska, but the Ergrig bolted.

"I can't believe that worked!" Said Viska.

"Neither can I." Said the human stepping out of liminal space between two boulders with a whump-gun. "I was trying to find you - Good thinking with the mud by the way - and I was prepared to give that big fella an arse full, with Betty here, but looks like you had it in hand!"

Vriska couldn't figure out how to respond for a moment - a little starstruck at getting praise from a Human. 

"Oh well. I just thought... what would a Human do." He said as they headed back to the Sintral expedition vehicle.

"Well it worked this time!" Said the Human, "But to be honest, I think most people - or animals - would back off if you leap out and screamed the lyrics to Phantom of the Opera at them..."

[gilbirda]

This mostly stemmed from the constant image of Jason being so disgustingly enamored with Jazz [the twirling-his-hair-heart-eyes-and-being so-unfocused-on-important-shit lovesick] that the batfam finds it bizarre rather than cute

The most I got is Ember rolling into Gotham looking for a bigger crowd [I guess], Jazz, interning at Arkham as the popular saying goes, tries dealing with her and Jason obviously steps in cause Crime Alley business is his business and smth about this new rocker chicks smells fishy.

I'm guessing you know where this is going?

Ember gets away, off to collect a following as she does.

Jazz is prepared for ghost nonsense, but she was not prepared for this vigilant built like a brick house to suddenly be mooning over her. So she reluctantly knocks this guy's lights out and leaves him in some alley [maybe checks him over for what she hopes is a panic button and leaves the bats to it]

The bats find him and bring him home, and thus have to deal with their uncharacteristically goofy, lovestruck family member going on and on about some redhead. He's talking about her long pretty hair, the color of her eyes, the way she kicked ass, her bossiness.

They can't get anything useful out of him.

It's both sickening and blackmail worthy

Cue batfam looking into the whole Ember business all while trying to keep Jason from wandering off in search of Jazz and keep him from potentially exposing himself or embarrassing himself. Meanwhile, Jazz is also trying to deal with Ember and maybe calling in the big guns....

Cue flustered Jazz having some weird ass run-ins with the bats and watching them as they try to keep an embarrassingly enamored Red Hood in check [The dude is probably singing her sonnets and all sorts of romantic shit]

[He refused to stay home, he wanted the chance to see her]

Hmmm, not much room to figure out a route for potential romance there :p

FAM

I THINK YOU HAVE A WHOLE ASS FIC RIGHT THERE

I would read it!!!

I mean, Jazz could acknowledge that this stranger is under a spell and doesn't really like, like her, so she's understanding and kind?

She still needs to deal with the ghost situation without Batman knowing what really is going on, so she has to outsmart the bats while she outruns this guy that's reciting very cute poetry oh my god he should write it down and publish it! and defeat Ember on her own.

She calls the big guns. She is strong, but she knows when she's overwhelmed.

Team Phantom deals with Ember as she deals with the bats. After all, she needs to make herself a distraction from the whole ghost-is-mind-controlling-people, and they are following her anyway, so she just-

she leaves fake clues?

It's actually really fun!!! She has taken a support role when helping her brother, and spreading her wings like this, running around the city at night and testing the limits of her liminal abilities, IS FUN.

And the guy, he said his name was Jay but she stopped him before he could say more, is actually very fun to talk to. When she is caught by him before the others and they get to interact, she sits down and studies him and what he uses to romance - it strikes her that he can quote plays and books at the drop of a hat (that is not the spell, this guy legit has memorized those) and that he is actually very polite?

Spell or no spell, it's been a while since she talked to someone like this. Nerding out.

But then Ember is defeated and the spell is broken and she is bummed that it's over but hey, it's been a fun experience!

And this dude remembers what happened too? He is very sorry and she assures him that it's totally fine and that he didn't say anything compromising about his identity.

And so they go back to their normal lives

except-

she misses him? It was fun and it was all a spell, but she misses him. It's silly, because there's no way a whole ass vigilante with probably a busy life is interested in silly romance?

And then this guy finds her one time as she was going home. He's just checking on her, really, because it must have been stressing dealing with all of that. He says he is sorry about being clingy and, well, she's been cool about it but wanted to make sure it was all fine.

He's being nice, she thinks.

He asks her if it could be cool to keep in touch. Because, uh, books? He wanted to know more about that theory she mentioned and maybe when they had a free schedule she wanted to grab a drink?

Yeah, sure. She gives him her number. How else would he contact her? By being a creep and stalk her to her house? No thank you.

And that's how Jazz ends up being courted by a Bat and doesn't realize what's going on.

Yes I hc her as aspec, what about it

-----

OOF

THIS GOT OUT OF MY HANDS!

If anyone wants to add, go ahead!

[fluffle-writes]

Okay. SO I like to think about Twisted Wonderland being a world of entities existing and a human stumbles upon it. But imagine it the other way around for a moment. An entity (either with or without powers) coming from some sort of liminal dream world, somehow stumbling into an all boys mage education institution. Just like

Entity!MC: "Ah.....where am I?"

𝐺𝑟𝑖𝑚 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑢𝑝. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑎 𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑤𝑑 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚, 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐺𝑟𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠.

Just....imagine that with me for a moment.

AGANDHAJSBAJSBJAS THAT'S AMAZING! GENIUS! BRAVO, 10/10

I can see this version of Yuu having a camera for a head maybe. Or an oddly obscured head that looks like one of those images where they overlay a ton of people's faces over each other to get the average appearance, except a lot of them are misaligned and constantly shifting - so it looks vaguely human-sghaped but it's twitching and turning but also staying in place and you can't recognise any features idk lol

THE GLITCHED OUT SCREAM IS THEM COOING AT HIM BECAUSE HIS SO GD LITTLE

Yuu would be kinda in-between the height of Idia and Ortho but Grim would be like an actual kitty for them! They can still be magicless, but maybe they still warp reality around themself when they interact with the world around them. Ace breaks an egg when they're standing too close and the spiders thing happens to him. Yuu gets cheese like Weirdcore Trey did and baffles Trey severely.

Crowley can't threaten them into helping with Octavinelle because he doesn't want to be known as the guy who let Yuu loose in their world - but they get caught up in everything anyway because they're curious to a fault and also their kitty is being hurt by some bastards.

They think human hair looks edible at one point and tries to take a bite out of Riddle's ahoge. They get a long lecture about it lmao.

I wonder if it'd be better to have Weirdcore Yuu be slightly younger actually... That way they'd only be about 7 feet tall and they can act more childishly - which could be even funnier for the TWST cast to deal with. Like, what do you mean they're bigger than Malleus (HORNS INCLUDED) and they're only, like, 10 or something. They're still growing!? When do they stop growing!?

[blessyourhondahurley]

Suptober day 1 - The Liminal Moment

Dean's managed to completely screw up his back. Bobby sends him... somewhere?

Suptober prompt: Liminal

(Read on AO3)

The pain isn't getting any better.

Okay, understatement.

The pain is getting worse every day. The last couple of mornings it had hurt so much just to get out of bed that there had been tears in his eyes by the time his feet were on the floor.

He'd manged to torque himself somehow, moved in exactly the wrong way by half an inch a few weeks ago, and something in his lower back had seized and squeezed and it hasn't let go since. What started as a sharp but localized ache has spread, more and more of his muscles going into spasm as he's held himself in increasingly awkward ways in search of relief. At this point his entire left side, kneecap to earlobe, is a hot line of agony, centered on a spot near his kidney that feels like a rusty rebar's been shoved straight through it.

But Dean's no wimp, and he's no whiner, either. No matter how bad he hurts he's showing up for work every day, putting in the hours, pulling his weight. Maybe he's not too fast on his feet right now, shuffling from car to car on the shop floor like somebody's decrepit grandpa, but he's still covering the floor. He's got a lifetime of experience with suffering in silence, after all, and nobody needs to know his business except him.

He's hunched crookedly over the engine of a '93 Chrysler LeBaron when Bobby yells for him, “GODDAMMIT DEAN!!” cracking through the shop so loud and so unexpected that he immediately straightens up on reflex. The sudden movement brings pain so intense he's briefly nauseated. His eyesight swims, and for a few seconds he worries he's about to pass out. By the time he feels steady again his boss is standing in front of him, looking equal parts irritated and worried.

“Boy, what's gotten into you lately?” he asks gruffly. “You look like hell, and you've been actin' like you're half-dead for days. You sick or somethin'?”

Dean tries to play it cool, but as he reaches to lean on the LeBaron's bumper a tremor in his hand betrays him. Busted. He grits his teeth and fesses up. “Kinda threw out my back a week or two ago. Pain keeps getting worse an' worse. I didn't mean for it to affect my job, though. I'm sorry if–”

Bobby cuts him off with an impatient gesture. “Y'ain't got nothin' to apologize for, son. You're more than just a shop hand to me, you know that.” He pulls off his grimy trucker cap, runs a hand through his thinning hair, and sighs. “You gotta take better care of yourself, Dean. You ain't nineteen any more. God knows none of us are.” He turns to his left and calls, “Garth, come take over on this Chrysler.”

“What? No!” Dean tries to block his lanky coworker's access to the engine, but Garth's got the advantages of height, reach, and a functioning muscular system and Dean can't even slow him down. Bobby tugs him carefully toward the office door. “It's fine, I can still work!” he protests.

“Not today you can't,” he says. “Go wash your hands, and then I want you to head on over across the street.”

Dean looks out through the open doors of the garage bay and across the two-lane blacktop that runs by Bobby's shop. There's a tiny strip mall on the other side of the road: four bland storefronts and an Italian restaurant. “You... want me to go... pick up a pizza?” he guesses.

His boss brings his hand up like he's about to dole out one of his trademark slaps to the back of his mechanic's head. Then he seems to think better of it and stops himself with a huff. “Try two doors down from the pizza place, idjit.” He gives Dean's shoulder a gentle shove. “Wash up and go. I'll call ahead. By the time you get yourself dragged across the way there'll be somebody waitin' for ya.”

Aching, dazed, and confused, Dean complies. It takes him a good five minutes to shamble his way up to the cheery yellow door he's been directed to. The sign above it declares this place to be The Liminal Moment and Dean has no idea what the hell that's supposed to mean. He turns the knob and walks inside as a collection of small bronze bells tinkle above his head.

He finds himself in a generic waiting area – a couple of chairs, a small table with some magazines, a reception desk (currently unmanned). There's an assortment of potted plants on the desk and the windowsills, and a small electric fountain burbling in the corner. The walls are painted a softer shade of the door's yellow. Behind the desk, someone has stuck up one of those cutesy inspirational stick-on decals. It reads “Honor the space between no longer and not yet – Nancy Levin”.

Dean still does not know what this place is or why he was sent here.

“I'll be right with you,” calls a rough voice. A few moments later a breathtakingly beautiful man strides in to the room with a gummy smile and a “Hello, Dean.”

Off balance and befuddled, Dean offers a limp wave in response.

The man continues. “I just got off the phone with Bobby. He says you're in a great deal of pain?”

“Yeah, I, uh, fucked up my back? What is this place, man? Bobby told me to walk over. Why am I here?”

“Oh, I'm so sorry, we're doing this all out of order. Welcome to The Liminal Moment. My name is Castiel. I'll be your masseur today.”

This story concludes here!