#may watch Rogue One at some point too

[nothinggold13]

*watches the prequel trilogy with the og trilogy once* GUYS I THINK I UNDERSTAND STAR WARS NOW

[plainclothesdisaster]

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[yandere-wishes]

just read the latest grayson fic and him with joker and harly’s daughter 😊 it would be so good.

I think wildcard would be good because having a child grow up in the Gillian industry, they would see the fails others have had and she could use them as well so you don’t know what she knows from other villains. And oml giggles sounds like something her parents would call her as a cute nickname💜 I love that thought.

I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! I actually have plans to write HC for all the batboys with their respective villain!Darlings! I'm just not sure when I'll get to it cause Uni is starting up again soon 😭😭😭

I'm not sure what the Gillian industry is (do all of Batman's villains have homes in the same neighborhood? That would make for killer domestic life fanfiction!!!💞💖💞💖) But the idea of her being a "Wildcard" and having been raised on the villains' doctrines. Given the chance to study their shortcomings is IMMACULATE!!! She'd be so overpowered, I LOVE IT!!

────────୨ৎ────────

🂠 She's not just the daughter of Batman's greatest (and scariest) villain, but also an amalgamation of all his rogues. She'd know all his weaknesses before she was even a teenager. Bonus points if she was literally raised by the Rogue's gallery to BE Batman's demise!!

🂠 Joker I feel would be a good dad (I know scandalous thought) there is a joke somewhere in all of this. That you created someone, an extension of yourself to defeat your greatest rival. That it took years of your failure to make a perfect "version of yourself". Someone stronger, smarter, better, someone who is the panicle of all you stand for and want to achieve. Although I can see him being a strict father, one who only permits social interactions with other "freaks" trying to keep her daughter safe from all the "boring sheep" of Gotham.  

🂠 Harley is such a loving (smothering at times) mother. She will definitely teach her daughter all she knows. Heck her first toy is probably going to be a mallet of some kind. Their Mother-Daughter time consists of Gymnastic training and rollerblading.

🂠 Ivy is definitely the Godmother (IDK who the Godfather would be? Riddler may be or Twoface just for the divorced aesthetic with Ivy)  and despite it not sitting well with Joker. She's going to teach the reader about seduction and how to lour in your prey.

🂠 The rest of the rouges help out too. Teach her all they know, raising her to be better than they ever were. I feel like, as the rouges grow older, they start to see the merit in having a legacy, someone to raise and "pass the torch to" kinda like Bats does with the Robins.

🂠 But the irony of all this is that Wildcard!Reader prefers to fight Nightwing as opposed to Batman. Sure it's fun family time to try all kill the bat with her mother and father. But she's honestly more interested in ripping apart the Wisecraking acrobat that somehow knows exactly where she is at all times. The black-haired menace that won't leave her alone, that hugs her a little too close and too tightly when he's cuffing her wrists. The golden boy who stole her first kiss and who shamelessly trails even more kisses down her neck. The "HERO" who haunts her nightmares even when she's home, safely tucked into her funhouse-esque bed...

🂠 Wildcard!Reader is slowly but surely starting to see just why her father is so obsessed with Batman, there is something so disgustingly saccharine about these heroes, something so bright that it crawls under your skin and festers inside you. She wants to see Nightwing dead, to ring his neck with her own fingers, to string him from the tent roof and pluck his teeth out one by one. But while Wildcard!Reader is dreaming up Nightwing's demise, the same hero is watching her through her window, tracing little hearts along the glass, fantasizing about the day she'll be in his arms forever.

────────୨ৎ────────

I think that also adds so much to the story, she was raised to kill Batman but grew obsessed with Nightwing. Legacy crashing into legacy. The one destined to destroy and the one fated to protect.

Her parents shrug it off as a "rebellious phase". Thinking that one day she'll awaken ready to commence on a warpath to Batman. But this hate-filled obsession isn't going away, it grows stronger by the day.

Harley is kinda happy that her little Giggles has found both her arch nemesis and obsession.  

Joker, on the other hand, is...conflicted, on one hand, he's happy that his enmity with the Batman/batfamily will outlive him. But on the other hand, he'd just LOVE to see his little girl finally put an end to Batsy. Albit if she did do that then Joker wouldn't have an excuse to get out of the Bahama trip he's been promising Harley.

Also, I completely forgot about Dick living in the circus, that just adds another intriguing layer to all of this!!

[newtthetranswriter]

Hello!

How are you? I was wondering if you could write some Fairy Tail fluff please?

I was thinking of something with Laxus and Sting ( separately) jealous hc please?

Thank you!

A/n: Hello, I'm doing pretty good. How are you? Anyways thank you for request I hope you enjoy these and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

Sting:

He's not normally the Jealous type so I feel it would take a lot for him to really get jealous

for this we'll say you've been spending a lot more time around Rogue

At first he just thinks you're getting closer with Rogue because He's his best friend and he's happy about it

But then the two of you start being secretive, nothing big just hushed conversations and going quiet when he enters the room

He can't help but think something is going on, after all what if you changed your mind and fell for the shadow dragon over him

So thinking his friend won his s/o, Sting would start to grow distant

He'd eat meals in his office or skip them all together, not go on jobs with You and Rogue as much claiming he had guild master work to do (even though we all know he never actually does it)

Sting would also get easily irritated, snapping at guild members for little things and ignoring anyone who tries to ask if he's okay

Once finally notice and try to talk to him, he's on guard after all how can he trust you when you've been spending more time around Rogue instead of with him

You'll most likely have to slap him once to get him to actually listen but don't worry he does eventually listen

He'll apologize repeatedly for thinking anything was happening between you and Rogue, especially once you tell him you were hang out with Rogue to help Frosch become a little more independent

Sting will also be a little more clingy for a little while after

Always having a hand in yours or on your waist or shoulder, he just wants to reassure him self that you really are still with him and aren't going to leave him

Laxus:

This wall of a man is 100% the silent/protective jealous type

He wouldn't get jealous super easy but there is one person who can cause this man to get jealous over nothing

That person is none other than the Pink haired Dragon slayer, Natsu

Laxus knows that you're friends with the fire dragon, but something about the way he can always make you laugh really grates at the Lightning dragon

His jealousy starts out as glares across the guild hall, if looks could kill the pinkette would be dead 100 times over by now

He just sits silently and watches telling himself and the rest of the Thunder legion (who already figured out he was jealous) that he is just making sure you're okay

After a while of just glaring and neither of you noticing his stare, Laxus will get up and walk over to you

He'll stay quiet except for a slight grumble as he sits down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder

The blonde would just sit there, chest puffed up a bit trying to silently show who you belong too

But once he feels you relax into him, he softens

He may not say it but feeling you lean further into his side, while you talk with your friend helps calm him down

Laxus still shoots a glare at his fellow dragon slayer but it's more out of the fact that Natsu gets on his nerves than anything else at this point

He'll still wait for the perfect moment to pull you away from the conversation with Natsu so he can fully relax but having you next to him reassures him that you wouldn't trade him for anyone else

(dividers by cafekitsune)

[lets-try-some-writing]

Do you think if any of the Tfp bots have seen any human deaths? Like any sorta of a death, old age, illness, infected injuries or sometimes people just die unexpectedly. It’s most likely any of the soldiers that work around any of the bases. if a human were to die more violently like bot human and ‘con fight happened and they didn’t know such a small creature could bleed so much.

I do imagine they have. It's likely not something they are fond of talking about, but civilian casualties had to have happened at some point after their initial arrival. Strength differences and all that.

Optimus, while attempting to save a car and its passengers before they went hurtling off a cliff edge, ended up grabbing the vehicle just a bit too hard. He overestimated the strength of human steel and the humans he was attempting to save from certain death died anyway. All Optimus could do was push the wreckage down the cliff anyway to make it look as if nothing had happened on his end and go back to base with servos coated in red.

He learned a grim lesson that day, and Optimus never again used all his strength for anything on earth again, save for combat with Megatron.

Ratchet was mistaken as a proper ambulance at one point, and an emergency at the roadside had him pulling over to transport a crash victim to the hospital. He had his holoform in the drivers seat and he instructed the bystander who volunteered to help, but the effort was in vain. The unfortunate victim passed away halfway to the hospital from blunt force trauma to the head. Ratchet thought he had more time since the organics he was familiar with generally had a higher constitution. The loss did not bother him too much after a while, but it was a bit of a wake up call after he dropped off the body and the bystander before speeding away.

He put a little more effort in understanding humanity after that. If only to stop needless death.

Arcee was neither involved with or the cause of any human deaths, but while the team were still integrating on Earth, she watched a marine get hit with a rogue piece of shrapnel and quite literally explode, at least in some areas. It didn't register for her at first, but the moment the humans started flocking and panicking, Arcee knew what blood was and just how... unfortunate the innards of a human are. She learned just how fragile humanity is, and while did not shake her, it was enlightening and she offered her condolences later.

Bulkhead has never actually witnessed a human death in person, largely because he was already a naturally cautious mech when it came to his strength, so there were no accidents. However, the first time Bulkhead saw a human die in a movie, he may or may not have gotten emotional over it. A simple scene with an old man bidding his family one final farewell had Bulkhead reconsidering the functional immortality of his species for a while. Then he watched Marlie & Me-

Bumblebee witnessed his first ever human death in a similar manner to Optimus. He was out racing illegally and trying to make up for the loneliness of being part of such a small team by filling the void with a competition. But one human got a bit too excited during the race, and a few bad decisions later, one of the racers rammed directly into Bumblebee, sending them both spinning. Bumblebee was disoriented but otherwise unharmed when he transformed. But looking at the wreck? The other guy was anything but that. Bumblebee didn't need to look hard to know that the red smear on the inside of the care was about all that was left of his competition.

He stopped racing after that.

Smokescreen, Wheeljack, and Ultra Magnus have yet to witness any human deaths up close and personal. They have seen movies, but not any real expirations. Ultra Magnus doesn't care to. Smokescreen is afraid to see what happens when a fleshy dies, especially after the Darkmount incident and Optimus's near death. Wheeljack, surprisingly, has witnessing such a thing on his bingo card. He's not looking forward to it, but it's bound to happen and he wants an excuse to get a drink.

[lostinlovingrevery]

MORE being domestic with Logan pt 2: BUT you and logan get your first home together

- whatever your situation is with logan, either an apartment together, living seperate, living in the mansion- you both decided you wanted to get a house together

- logan picks up the more serious responsibilities of finding a house (not bc you couldnt do it and youre fully aware of everything. Its just logan has been alive for 200 years and he knows exactly what to do and expect) while you just scroll through pics on zillow and point out the houses you like and didnt lile

-whether you two want kids or not, you still agree to get a slightly bigger home- just to be able to have space for the chaos that may or may not ensue from yourselves or loved ones who visit

- you are more whimsy about how pretty the house is. Logan drills the realtor over the history, maintenance, plumbing, electrical- you name it he questions it

- "gotta make sure this place is perfect for you bub"

-once you finally pick a place, the lease is signed and keys handed over. You and logan spend the night in your first home that day!! No furntiure, just some pillows and blankets as you lay on the living room floor and talk about how to decorate and where to put furniture

- maybe yall christen the house by making love (fucking) right there on the floor too...

- after the chaos of moving in happens, youre working and logan is home. You come home to find at least one of the bathrooms completely torn out

- you could be mad that logan started this project without talking to you first but tbh you were kinda expecting it. He was staring a bit too hard at the tile when you were looking...

- sometimes you wonder if you should look up nesting habits for wolverines because the man spends the next year on housing projects. Only to learn later from jean that scott did the same thing in their house. Must be a man thing.

- you bicker over paint colors, placement over furniture.

- you and logan never have to pay a contractor to fix anything. No plumbling, electrical, maintenance. The mans got 200 years of experience and hes "not gotta waste money on some asshole who dont even know how to do the job right"

- (he also just doesnt like the idea of strangers in yours and his house)

-HOLIDAYS

- logan acts all tough but hes ALL about decorating for the holidays. Esp christmas

- "cant be letting the neighbors looking better than us"

-he lets you take care of the gardening. Plants just seem to hate him. Hell do the heavy lifting of mulch and soil and cutting the lawn though

-eventually he does get friendly with the neighbors and one day you cant find him and hes outside talking to "Gary" and several other men on the street, beers in hand, as they watched someone down the street cutting down a huge tree and theyre all critiquing his methods

- if youre part of the xmen, you both take turns on missions so someone is always able to be able to keep an eye on the house

- slow dancing in the kitchen at night

- if you get married or are already married he makes it a point to carry you through the threshold. More than once.

BONUS W kids 🩷

- if and when you guys decide to have kids, youre in for a treat.

- if you thought logan was bad before, hes ten times worsting. Hes nesting and has probably redone the babys/kids bedroom like 5 times before they arrive

- he wants to put all the baby furniture together but you insist he wait so you both can do it. You end up arguing during half of it but yalls are a team and figure it out (well logan does. You just smile prettily at him while he fixes whatever you messed up)

- if yall are adopting, logan is so tense about the house looking perfect and being a home for the one your adopting.

-hes worried about being a dad but honestly hed been a dad for a long ass time, maybe not biologically a dad yet, but he def is in spirit (rogue, kitty, laura, you name them)

Enjoy!!! ❤️😊

[kcrabb88]

I think one of the things I've found most frustrating about sections of Star Wars fandom since being more active in it (rather than just being a Star Wars appreciator) is that some folks are constantly looking for a reason that the Jedi "caused" or worse "deserved" what was coming to them with Order 66. It's hard and horrible to watch the Jedi get slaughtered in Revenge of the Sith, so people search for a reason that it was, in some sense, justified. But that's not what genocide is. No group can "bring a genocide on themselves." It doesn't matter WHAT mistakes they may make. The whole point of the Clone Wars all the way down to destroying Jedha City in Rogue One was to wipe out not only the Jedi themselves, but the memory of them, so that the empire can fully take root.

And this is why the end of the Acolyte finale felt so so so bad to me. It was meant to be, or so I believed, a show about how the Sith were getting closer to their goal of getting rid of the Jedi as we close in on the century before The Phantom Menace. I sat there, I waited for the narrative intention to set in, and that narrative intention surprised me by saying "ah yes, well, some Jedi made mistakes and it was fine for one to be murdered HORRIBLY as a result, and the subsequent cover up of all of it is just the Jedi wanting to avoid senate knowledge of what really happened because the Jedi are too powerful." It's like, nevermind that the SENATE is the power here, and the Jedi long-ago agreed to help them out but are being shouldered with more and more and more and they may have the Force but they are still only people (which the High Republic books show REALLY well). It's like, nevermind that Star Wars is about redemption and always trying to be a better person and learning from our mistakes! It wasn't a situation, when Osha kills Sol in a nasty and cruel way, where you see a person going corrupt and know the narrative behind it is like "oh shit, this is a bad turn for them!" It felt like the narrative was saying she was justified (at least to me) and that's just. Sad? Bleak? The end of the finale felt to me like "hey, some Jedi made some mistakes while trying their best once, and that's why these Sith get to do whatever and that's why the Jedi walked right into their own demise."

When the scene with the senator happened, I thought, oh, interesting, we're going to see the prejudice against Force-sensitives here that leads to the senate clapping in the face of genocide. That leads to the safehouse in Kenobi where we see Force-sensitives carving messages of hope into the wall while they're being hunted down and killed. But that's ... not what happened. In the end, it felt like the narrative said, "yep that guy is right, the Jedi are a power-grabbing cult." It just felt bad, man. I thought this was going to be a story about the lineage leading up to Plagueis and Palpatine and I thought, interesting, I'd love to see that, but it just ended up being this messy thing with clunky writing and a bunch of loose ends that teased me with Jedi characters and then said "eh, these guys deserved it."

We got to see a kyber crystal bleeding for the first time in live action, and I can't even be excited about it! Did we ever really find out how Osha and Mae were created and what weird stuff the witches were up to? Nope! Just woah disappointing as far as even learning new stuff about how the dark side corrupts the Force, and that was one thing I was interested in as the show started to go downhill for me in later episodes.

(RIP Sol, Jecki, and Yord. You deserved better than that, and Vernestra, so did you)

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 18 - "We can't do this on our own."

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: Slight mentions of DannyXBruce ship

A/N: Inspired by the comments and Reblogs of Prompt 17. I advise to read that one first before reading this, also posting this early because I won't have the time to do that tomorrow. Credits for inspiring this continuation go to @charlietheepic7 and @noxcheshire

After the babysitting disaster Dick had sworn Tim and Damian into secrecy about. The bat-sibling had quickly warmed up to the phantom children and invited them several more times to visit them at the manor. Damian had even doubled his efforts in getting along with them, still believing they were his half siblings, despite Bruce having tried to explain to them in private that this wasn't the case.

Of course that didn't mean that Damian wasn't butting heads with them at all, in fact they were only sitting together like this now because Damian and Dan had gotten into a fight about whether or not Phantom was an adequate partner for Bruce. Dan appeared to have taken offense to that in some form and declared that Bruce was the one not suited to be with his Mom.

The fight ended with Dani, five years old little girl Dani, kicking down both Damian and her own brother, before proceeding to sit on Dan while loudly yelling that he was risking their entire plan of setting up their Mom with Uncle Bruce so Auntie Valerie would stop trying to be their Step Mom. Which brought them back to their current situation of the five of them sitting together in the main hang out room.

Dan grumbled inaudible, arms crossed and glaring at the bat children assembled before him. Dani giggled, nudging her big brother's leg. "Don't go nonverbal now!"

"Nonverbal?" Dick couldn't help but question, causing Dan to snarl at him while Dani still smiled very brightly at them.

"Big Brother sometimes only talks in growls and snarls. Auntie Jazz said it's got something to do with what he's been through. Mom says big brother isn't socialized enough yet." The boy only growled, glaring at them while he pulled the little girl into a hug and made her sit between his legs, making Dani giggle once more grinning bridely. The two Phantom children were seated on a loveseat together now in the general hang out room of Wayne Manor. Dick, Tim and Damian sat across from them on the couch.

The bat kids exchanged glances. Bruce can try as he might, there was no hiding the relation he had with the Phantom kids. There were too many things that added to the fact that the kids had to be Damians half siblings.

Damian looked rather disgruntled, arms also crossed as he turned to return Dan's glare with the same intensity. "Father, may have been trying to hide you from us but his attempts at gaining Nightingale favor are just as pathetic as the excuses he has been giving us in regards to our relation."

Tim arched an eyebrow. "I was not even aware that Bruce tried to flirt with Phantom at all."

Dick patted Tims shoulder in mock condolence. "I have seen the Phantom-Batman dynamic since my days as Robin… It was horrible and painful to watch. Jason can attest to that."

"Mom is as dense as a neutron star." Dan muttered looking away from them.

As if realizing something Dani blinked a couple of times before staring wide eyed at Dick and pointing with one hand at him. "You're the menace Robin! You're the one that asked Superman to throw you high into the air so you could do flips! Mom even said that you asked him once if he could phase you halfway through a wall or turn you invisible to scare your rogues!"

Both Tim and Damian stared at their older brother unimpressed.

"I guess that did happen. Well back to topic!" Dick tried to deflect which sort of worked. But more because Tim got curious about something.

"I don't get how you guys know about us but we didn't know about you two at all. Phantom never mentioned either of you before, not even when he came to visit as Danny. Before we were told about him being Phantom." Tim muttered, completely ignoring Dick as he turned his attention to the two kids. The two children in turn exchanged knowing looks.

"Mom and Auntie Jazz were worried that big brother would get PTSD seeing the Justice League. That's why Uncle Bruce and Superman are the only ones who really knew about us." Dani explained looking up at her older brother who suddenly sported a feral grin, showing off suddenly very sharp appearing teeth. "Though Superman learning about us was more a spur of the moment than intentional telling him."

"Mom was so mad at him." Dan mentioned his sharp teeth glinting as he exchanged a feral look with his sister. It sent a shiver down the batkids' back, making them remember that the kid mentioned he had apparently murdered all of them before. The image of little ten years old Dan standing in a sea of blue fire and laughing like a maniac crossed their minds for a brief moment before they pushed the memories of the babysitting disaster into the depths of their minds again. "He would have beat him up if Uncle Bruce didn't stop him. Instead Mom put Supes through the lecture of a lifetime using us as his how-it's-supposed-to-be example."

"Oh and we met big bro J when Frostbite helped with his treatment!" Dani added clapping her hands together all cutely while her brother on the other hand ended up growling. "He still owns me a spar."

"That… explains nothing." Tim retorted, eyes narrowed at the two kids who only shrugged refusing to explain any more than they had.

Damian meanwhile ended up glaring at nothing as he crossed his arms muttering something about punishing Todd for having been in cahoots with his father and keeping his younger siblings from him. Dick smiled, their youngest apparently really like the thought of having two younger siblings of his own now.

"Can we please get back to topic? About these two trying to set up Danny and Bruce?" Dick tried once more, he really wanted to know more about this whole 'we attempted to set our mom up with Bruce' deal the two kids had going on.

"What is there to question, Richard? My half siblings appear to want for my father and their mother to be together." Damian huffed with his attention being on his eldest brother he did not notice the confused look Dani gave the older boy before looking at her own brother only for Dan to sport a mix of a feral and mischievous grin the girl soon returned when a look of understanding crossed her face briefly.

"So are you guys going to help?" Dani looked at them with big baby blue and pleading eyes. Dan gave them a red eyed glare as if daring them to disagree with his sister. "As big brother said Mom is a neutron star! We can't do this on our own. But now that you guys know you can help!"

The three bat-kids exchanged a look, though it appeared as if Damian had already made a decision on that matter the moment he learned that Phantom was the mother of his half siblings. Dick grinned, pulling out his phone. "If we are going to do this then I am calling in the cavalry."

In other words Dick was going to call in all their siblings as back up. They had been discussing making Phantom, aka Danny Nightingale, a more permanent fixture in their lives before after he had helped Jason. Now they had even more reason to do so with two baby siblings added into their lot.

[half-dead-ham]

Tim Drake's I.E.F Chap 5

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Mmmmm this is probably gonna be the last chapter I link to Tumblr tonight. It's like, 2am? Yea I deserve some sleep. I'll hopefully get some more out tmrr. But who knows? Certainly not me.

Also. I have never pulled a prank on my sib and this chapter displays that fully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looking over the plans on his laptop, Tim can't help but smile. It may be slightly maniacal, but with the plans he has, he couldn't help it.

Only a day has passed since Jason came to check on Tim, and since then he's been putting together a series of plans for his siblings. We're they good plans? No, not at all.

Tim, with the ready help of his new friend that could go both invisible and intangible had prepared a set of pranks specifically for each family member -minus Bruce and Alfred- in order of who needs it most. A few times while writing in the document he titled 'the shit list' he could hear his friend giggling from over his shoulder, the soft reverb sending chills down his spine that had nothing to do with the familiar cold his friend gave off. It was distracting, but it showed that Tim had gotten a bit closer with Arcturus, even if just a little bit.

"Alright," he nodded, giving the list one last look over before turning to where he could feel the epicentre of the cold.

"I have one last thing that'll make this perfect." Tim turned to rummage in his bedside table, absently noting the lack of strain such a movement had on his wounds. His hand brushed what he was looking for, and he pulled it out to show to Arct, laying the object on the palm of his hand. A compact surveillance camera sat neatly on his palm, perfect for watching the chaos unfold from the safety of his hospital bed in the medbay while his friend enacted righteous vengeance.

Arcturus must have grabbed the camera because it floated off his palm over to the bedside chair, turning every so often for his friend to get a better view of the device.

"Cool isn't it? We use these to keep tabs on some of the regular rogue hideouts, and sometimes infiltrations if we need a wire." Tapping a few things on his keyboard he brought up the camera's feed. A grainy image appeared, jumping and lagging every few seconds. Odd, this was supposed to be a newer model, there shouldn't be any interference with the signal, especially this close to the cam itself.

To his left Arct made a trill that sounded like clinking icicles and a feeling of understanding that wasn't his own washed over Tim. Frowning and looking over he watched his friend bring up the camera to what Tim thought would be about chest level, and just to its left sparked to life a green flame.

No, that wasn't quite right, the green pulsed and warbled, but it stayed mostly circular, not pointed like a candle's flame. The light moved closer to the camera and Tim could just make out the silhouette of his friend's pointed claw before it made contact. Touching the light to the camera seemed to affect it somehow, as he watched the camera absorb the light fully, glowing slightly before that too faded into the device.

Tim wondered just what Arct had done to the device until the laptop in front of him notified him with a ding! 

'New power source detected, convert?' He'd never seen that pop-up before. Cautiously glancing back over to the chair, he clicked the 'accept' button and watched as the program closed, then opened back up a second later. The camera feed now had a slight green tint to it, but the glitching and static had stopped. 'Whatever Arct had done to the camera probably counteracted the interference his aura gave off,' Tim figured.

He turned to his friend to give his thanks, but the words died on his lips as he watched the small figure of the camera flicker and disappear. Trying to find them was useless, his friend could obscure the cold feeling he gave off when he wanted, even Tim couldn't find him. Tim turned back to the footage on his laptop only to get jumpscared by a closeup of his own face.

A ghostly giggle echoed in front of him as Tim groaned. Arcturus really did fit perfectly in this family if he was already scaring him like that for no reason.

"Okay, okay, enough playing around. Ready to start a war?" He grinned, sharp and feral. He could only imagine Arct was doing the same as the camera came back into view to bob up and down rapidly.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny first tracks down Stephanie in the library. The blond Danny's come to know as Spoiler is lounging on one of the many couches in the large room with a book in hand and a glass of water on the small table next to her. Too focused on her book, she reaches over to get her drink without looking. She frowns, she knew she put her glass close by, but she can't find it by touch alone.

Frowning, she finally tears her gaze from her book to the end table beside her, only to find her water, sitting innocently where she had left it. Taking and inspecting it reveals nothing out of place with the glass or the table. Stephanie says nothing as she looks out to the rows of bookshelves, then behind her and the couch, trying to find anyone to place blame, but she was alone. Or so she thought.

Turning back, she shrugs to herself and tips the glass to take a sip, only to yelp as a large ice cube slid out of the cup and onto her nose. She jumps back in her seat, startled, at the solid chunk of what used to be her drinking water now sitting in her lap. Hesitantly, she pokes at it, expecting it to seemingly explode. Once, twice, three times all come up with something cold but solid. The fourth time her nail lightly grazes the side and suddenly she's drenched from the waist down in room temperature water.

She rushes to her feet, pants soaked and dripping onto the carpet. Again, she looks around for anyone in the room, even glaring at the high tops of the bookshelves, expecting one of her family members to jump out and tell her she just got pranked. But again, she's alone in the library. Danny lets a breathy chuckle escape him as he watches Stephanie glare accusingly at nothing, then her soiled pants, and finally storming out of the library, book now forgotten. He makes sure the book is left on another couch in case she comes back. Then floats off to find his next target.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian is in his room working on that day's portion of homework when he feels a presence. An all too familiar presence that reminds him of a time before he lived in the manor.

A dangerous presence.

He spins around in his chair, previously concealed dagger now in hand. The room hasn't changed, his weapons are still perched in their displays on his wall, the curtains sway lightly in the mid afternoon breeze. Paranoia runs through him like electricity as he crosses the room to close the window, certain of what he felt. Pit demons could not be seen by normal men, they were monsters spawned by the Lazarus pits to bring chaos and madness for all those trying to use their powers. If there were a pit demon in the manor, they would all be dead before long.

Moving back to his desk in slow movements, Damian tried to pick up on that familiar feeling. The feeling of unchecked desire and death. He found an empty room.

This did not comfort him.

Damian took another dagger out of its hiding place just as he heard the door handle rattle. Tearing the door almost off its hinges he raced after that presence through the house, down corridors and ballrooms, stairways and secret passageways. The presence finally stopped in the main foyer. Damian scanned the entrance room with daggers drawn, trying to sense where the thing had disappeared to.

Just as the tension started to leave his shoulders with the thought of 'needing more sleep, lest he end up like Drake' a snowflake landed on his nose. He looked up just in time to see a mound of snow fall on him in a whump! leaving only his head and neck exposed. With his body restrained, Damian could do nothing as the pit demon's presence glides back up the main staircase and disappears down a corridor, static hissing conveying its glee in its wake.

-

Damian returns to his room cold and damp, a blanket on his shoulders and mug of warm cardamom milk in his hand. Swinging the door open Damian is outraged to see all his weapons, hidden ones included, painted and arranged on his floor in the forms of several different flowers. He growls and glowers at nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim made sure to save Duke for last, as his powers might give Arct some trouble. Danny doesn't know exactly why a guy like Duke is on 'the shit list' but doesn't question it if it means getting to prank someone.

The meta is currently using the training space in the cave to practice grapples and throws in a simulation.

A cold chill runs up his spine and he blocks a punch. Duke knows no one besides Tim is in the cave, and he shouldn't be up and running around yet, so otherwise Duke is alone. The simulation ends, Duke bent over with hands on his knees as he tries to steady his breathing. Something passes behind him, cold and charged, like a broken power line in the middle of winter. He glanced behind him, breathing having levelled out some, but sees nothing. Looking over his other shoulder provides similar results.

Suspicious, Duke calls out to the empty room.

"Hello?" His voice echoes in the silence of the cavernous room. Something else replies, a cold haunting whisper of a laugh. It has no source that he could see, bouncing off the stone walls and seemingly coming from every direction. The black and white streak from the corner of his vision is the final straw, he needs to nope the heck out of here.

Taking quick strides out of the training room, he only makes it past the threshold when something grabs his ankle. He tries to jerk away but the thing's grip is strong, keeping him bound to that spot on the floor even as he's leaning back with his full weight. It's grip on his ankle loosens ever so slightly after a moment, and Duke hopes he's able to get away with that smidge more wiggle room.

His heart plummets as a sensation radiates out from the grip, cold like spearmint and chilled water. It envelops him, and for a second Duke feels weightless.

Then, the thing pulls.

Duke is pulled through the floor, scream caught in his throat as stone and dirt pass through him and the unseen being. He tries to see what has him, but this darkness doesn't respond as it would normally. His X-ray vision doesn't help either, as it just shows him more earth and the sewers below Gotham.

A sinking feeling slips into the pit of his stomach as he wonders if he'll be left down here, were the thing that has him let go. That thought was jerked away with him as the being dragged him up up up and breaches land. It was all he could do to not cry from relief at seeing the late Gotham sky when gravity reasserted itself and the pressure on his ankle vanished. He dropped face first into the grass.

"Owww…" Duke groans. Laying there seems like the better option as he tries to get his heart rate under control for a different reason than before. Rolling over takes more energy than he'd like, but it's worth it if it means he's not inhaling grass. Cracking one eye open he does not expect to see a shadowy figure leaning over him, it's green eyes peering at him, inspecting him like a specimen. He lays as still as he can, not wanting to breathe as this creature's eyes wash over him like a tiger watching an antelope.

The things eyes travel up to his face, and a cheshire grin manifests itself in the roiling black of its face, stark white in contrast and with too many teeth. 'Ah, I'm going to die' was all Duke could think before the thing lunges. Screwing his eyes shut might have been the last thing he ever does…

A few minutes pass and nothing happens. No pain or cold could be felt anywhere on his body, so he cautiously cracks an eye open. Blue sky overhead, trees and the manor in the distance, but no sight of the black thing that literally dragged him here. Duke sits up slowly, turning his head to try and see the thing.

It's gone.

He could almost think it was a dream if he didn't have to walk all the way back to the manor in his workout gear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The prank war—more of a slaughter really—went on for the next two days. At random hours strange things will go on around the three siblings still in the manor, things disappearing and reappearing in other locations, water turning to ice when they blink and back again, strange noises or cold spots in empty rooms. It all leads up to dinner.

Tim had been given the okay from Alfred to exit medbay and eat solid food. Alfred had marvelled at Tim's speedy recovery—no one heals from a bullet to the lung in a week and a half—but made sure to drill into him that he wouldn't be doing any strenuous work, during the day or night.

Tim was okay with that, he thought as he sat down and watched as the others set the table around him. The three targets were haggard and paranoid, jumping at shadows (in Duke's case literally.) Arcturus was around somewhere close, he had hidden his presence as Tim hobbled up the stairs with Alfred's help, and Tim wondered if he'd be able to get away with anymore pranking today.

With the table set, the three sat across from Tim, stiff and uncomfortable. Tonight's dinner would be soup, mainly because Tim still had to recover, but there was a side of steamed vegetables and buttered bread to be dipped if preferred.

They sat in tense silence, Bruce late again, as always. Smirking, Tim tried to make conversation with his three siblings.

"So, anything interesting happen around here while I was rotting in bed?"

Damian scowled and glanced to his left, towards Bruce's chair. Duke paled by at least two shades, and Stephanie's eye twitched.

"Nothing happened Timmy, we're all just peachy." Steph ground out. Man she was really on her last straw.

Good.

He watched absently as a piece of steamed broccoli dropped into the plate. 'So Arct was hiding under the table' he thought as he tried making more small talk with his siblings.

"Y'know I've been hearing some strange things down in the cave, I'm almost starting to believe it's haunted." He says with a chuckle. Not like he was wrong.

The elbow to the shin both confirms where Arct is and tells him maybe that joke was in bad taste if the ghost doesn't want to be noticed.

Damian's glare told him he didn't miss the minute flinch he gave at that. Neither did Duke apparently, as his brow furrows. Damn detective training. Luckily Steph is still trying to burn a hole through her bowl with her eyes like Superman.

After that they eat in silence. The sound of clinking cutlery and shuffling in seats fills the room. At one point Duke seems to notice Tim's disappearing veggies, despite Tim not eating them. He drops his spoon, and it clatters off the table with a sound that could have been a gunshot in the quiet dining room.

"Ope, sorry,'' he mutters sheepishly as he scoots his chair back enough to bend down and get it.

As he's bent over, Duke looks over to Tim's side of the table. He nearly jumps out of his skin as he watches the thing, just sitting against his brother's legs, pulling a carrot through the table and putting it in its mouth. He must've made a noise or something, because the thing snaps to look at him with those toxic green eyes. A black appendage lifts for it to wave at him, that Cheshire grin curling out of its face with too many teeth.

Duke jumps back, hitting his head on the underside of the table and falling out of his seat. He scrambles out from under the table to see his three siblings staring at him. Pointing a shaking hand at the thing at Tim's feet he croaked, his voice cracking in fear.

"Something-" He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, "-Something's under the table."

Damian shoots to his feet, newly revealed dagger in hand. Stephanie bolts up too, backing away slowly from the table like it might eat her if she moves too quickly.

Yeah, Tim might have just screwed up.

The frosty sensation pressing against his leg vanishes and he could see Duke gaping at him from the floor. Right, Intangibly, Arcturus probably went through the floor and is gonna hide out in the cave for a while until dinner is over. Tim inwardly let out a sigh of relief. Time to cover his ass.

"What's wrong Duke? Saw a spider or something?" Tim grins down at the other boy from his seat.

"What? No! I saw this, this thing! It was this smokey black thing with green eyes and way too many teeth!" Duke is still pointing at his legs under the table, like Arct will just come back for funsies.

Tim absently wondered if that's what Jason saw, looking at Arcturus. He never gave a description of his friend, even though he came back a few days later. Though he did get pranked by them. They got found out pretty quickly and started talking about other ways to mess with the family after that.

"Tt, so you can see the pit demon then, unsurprising." Damian scowled in Tim's direction, was he taking his anger out on Tim like that? Maybe.

"Wait, hold on-" Steph points at Damian. "-You know what this thing is? And you haven't told us?" She accused.

"I had it under control, it did not seem important as it had not yet tried to harm anyone as of yet." Damian retorted.

"Harm anyone? That thing is violent?!"

"Normally, those of its species are, yes."

Their shouting soon devolved into bickering, their feelings of suspicion and paranoia finally being released in the form of a shouting match as Duke remained frozen on the floor staring at Tim from under the table.

Tim propped his chin on his fist, elbow on the table as the show went on. Honestly this could use some popcorn.

Just as he was getting comfortable Duke squinted at him.

"You knew about that thing, didn't you?" The suspicion was palpable in his voice.

"Knew about what?" He asked innocently.

"The thing! It was up against your legs, you would either have noticed it and tried to get away or you already knew about it!"

Oh, shit. The other two had died down in their shouting match to look at him now. Not good.

Tim tries deflecting, "Duke, I've been tired and sore for a week and a half, you really think I'd be noticing if my legs felt a little chilly?"

The arguing turned into a four-way match. He tried valiantly to deny all accusations thrown at him, but he was up against three other bat-trained detectives, he was bound to let something slip.

"Are you telling us," Damian ground out, "that you just let a dangerous supernatural creature follow you to the manor? Not only are you an imbecile, but you are suicidal as well."

"I didn't let it follow me, I was unconscious. Dick let it follow him." He countered, full face in his hands. This really did not turn out the way he wanted it to.

"And so, what? You just decided 'well they didn't believe me about this, so let's get back at them a little?'" Stephanie had stopped shouting, but the anger was still hot in her voice.

"Basically," he shrugged.

The three across from Tim were about to start berating him, again, when Bruce finally showed up. He looked at the three angry teenagers on one side of the table, then Tim trying to disappear into the chair cushions on the other.

"Did I miss something?" He asked.

His siblings wanted to regale Bruce with his stupidity, but Tim cut them off before they could start.

"They were just telling me how stupid it was of me to try and have coffee with dinner so soon into my recovery." He lied.

Bruce shot a stern look at Tim as he sat down. "And they're right, you're barely out of medbay Tim, coffee won't do you any good right now."

Tim gave a noncommittal hum at that.

The dinner moved quickly after that. Glares were not so subtly shot his way and he no longer felt the same joy he did at the beginning. He decided to cut his losses and retire to his room early.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'This did not go how I thought it would,' Tim thought as he not so gently shut his door and flopped onto his bed. At least he could hole himself up in his room now, so that's a positive.

A cold presence nears his right and gives a small hum, the noise conveyed concern and regret. Arct felt sorry for leaving him? It was his own fault he got himself into that mess. He turned his head from where it was smashed into the mattress to look at where his friend sat, the bed dipping slightly at the invisible weight.

"Not your fault," Tim mumbled through the sheets. "I thought of the pranks, you just did them for me. You still don't trust me enough to even show yourself, and I put you in a dangerous spot for some fun."

He glumly turned his head back into the sheets. He knew his friend didn't trust the bats, he knew Damian knew about pit demons from Jason, yet he still thought using his friend and possibly outing him to his family was a good idea. Stupid, stupid! Tim let out an anguished groan, wallowing and repeating depressing thoughts like a mantra in his head.

All thoughts screeched to a halt when something ran over his scalp. He looked up, expecting not to see anything but instead found a floating white glove carding its fingers soothingly through his hair. Tim felt his eyes flutter as he practically melted into the mattress, his previous thought spiral completely forgotten.

A Trilling chirp sounding of a connecting audio jack moved a question through the air, one simple enough Tim could decipher clearly; better? Leaning into his friend's touch he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Thanks for helping me get out of my head. Sorry I had to tell them some things about you, Dami will probably try and stick around me now to make sure you aren't going to hurt anyone."

The fingers continued their paths through his hair as a trill of understanding filled him. Man, he'd made a great friend.

They continued like that in silence for a while, a floating white glove carding through Tim's hair, and Tim condensing into a puddle on the sheets from the comforting ministrations.

At Tim's yawn, the fingers stopped. Tim groaned at the loss. He looked hazily to his friend, silently urging him to continue. His friend responded with a cold wind rustling branches, the meaning of rest drew another groan from the puddle of teen. Ever so slowly he got up to go to the bathroom and get ready for bed, swaying slightly on his feet occasionally. Arcturus was still there when he got back, with clean pyjamas and a washed face. Tim crawled back into bead and was delighted when the fingers returned to his hair, accompanied by the purr he'd heard on the first night he'd met Arcturus, promising safety and sleep. The petting didn't stop until soft snores could be heard in the dark bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny was feeling hungry. His stomach had been roaring since he smelled dinner and it only got worse since stealing the veggies off Tim's plate. Maybe not attending to his human needs for a week and a half wasn't the greatest idea in retrospect, but the need for safety came first. He was currently in a house filled with highly trained and suspicious heroes and hero adjacents, he needed to be more than careful here, or he'd get caught by someone less friendly than Tim and Jason.

Still, he was hungry, and he probably needed a shower. After making sure all the vigilantes' returned from their patrols and tucked themselves safely in their beds, Danny used one of the furthest of the many spare bedroom ensuites (seriously how many rooms does this mansion have?) to scrub all his built up grime away. Not that he sweat or got dirty in ghost form, really, he just phases all the dirt off him, but nothing felt better after a week of stress than a shower.

It was heavenly.

Phasing the water off while in the tub would save the suspicion of a damp towel in an unused bedroom. He got dressed in his most recently washed clothes, thanking his past self for going to the laundromat before all this went down as he stuck his stuff back in the wall.

Danny crept down the winding halls of the manor towards the kitchen, remembering each turn from when he'd explore invisibly while Tim was asleep. Adding a little ghost power aided his steps to be deathly silent.

The kitchen was dark, not that it bothered Danny, as he made a B-line for the fridge. Opening it revealed a treasure trove of ingredients, fruits and veggies, meats and cheese, truly a fridge fit to serve five to twenty people at a time.

He grabbed a carrot and shoved it in his mouth, satisfied he had that to munch on. Danny started cherry picking other snacks, trying to make sure he could get somewhat of a balanced meal out of his pilfering.

The slight rustling of fabric made him stiffen, then a voice behind him had his core sink to his stomach.

"Master Jason, I do believe I have told you to send an advanced notice before you decide to come for a late-night snack," Alfred scolded the large silhouetted form.

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

Danny didn't move from his hunched position, unsure of what to do. He couldn't lie to the butler, he knew Jason much better than Danny did and would be able to smell the lie as soon as he turned around. Running wouldn't help either, Alfred had seen him. In human form. He'd tell Bruce as soon as he could. 'A mysterious man had bypassed all the detection alarms and raided the fridge early this morning' would send the bat on a search of the manor, top to bottom.

"Master Jason? Are you alright?"

Ah, he'd stayed quiet too long, shit.

The rustling of cloth came closer and in a panic Danny went invisible. A sharp inhale was the only indication of Alfred's surprise, and turning showed the man searching the room with eyebrows raised. Slowly the butler walked to the fridge, taking graceful, sturdy steps as he glided across the kitchen, expecting an attack. As he grabbed the handle of the open fridge door Danny turned intangible to let the door pass through him.

Alfred jerked his hand back as it went through Danny's chest, feeling as though he'd just stuck it in a bucket of dry ice. He'd tried to find the cold spot again, but by then Danny had already flown through the ceiling to Tim's room, the food in his arms forgotten.

Dropping his snacks to the floor as he made it to the correct bedroom Danny rushed to the sleeping form before him and shook him.

"Tim, Tim wake up!" He whisper-shouted, not caring if he was speaking English instead of ghost speak. "Tim, I need your help!"

Tim rolled over, groggy and half asleep.

"Whazzap?" He slurred before yawning.

"Your butler saw me."

"What?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Ao3][Prev][Next]

[teecupangel]

Been holding a thought on my brain for too long abt putting Desmond in Situations: have you watched Dimension 20's The Unsleeping City? At least s1. Bc 1) watch it, it's so good & 2) I specifically in this situation think abt Bad Weather being the normal version of the bar in Broadway that Kingston & Misty go to. Pre-canon Desmond seeing past the Umbral Arcana & getting involved in magic shenanigans..... Yeah.

You know his latent Eagle Vision is peeling out & seeing the magic shit happening in New York City. You KNOWWWWW. Please tell me one of your followers has been thinking this too.

I have good news for you, nonny, because I have just started watching Dimension 20 this year but I am a slow watcher so I’ve only gotten as far as the first 3 episodes of Unsleeping City season 2 (atm, I think my fav D20 moment is with the Bad Kids’ “Spring Break, I believe in you!” XD). I’m one of those few people who’s pathway to D&D and TTRPG is Oxventure→No Rolls Barred/Chaotic Neutral→Mystery Quest so I am absolutely late to the party XD

Anyway, for this one, we need to do a bit of housekeeping.

I’m basing this on the title of the opening theme New York 2006 because I think that’s the year Season 1 was set (feel free to correct me though)

This means that Desmond would be 19 at that point and we can push it that he’s already working in Bad Weather.

Now, I like the idea that Bad Weather is the normal version of the bar that Kingston and Misty goes to but, may I suggest an alternative?

An earlier possible way to add Desmond to all these shenanigans is to make Bad Weather one of the bars Sofia and Kugrash go to for their ‘hairy baby free drinks scam’.

Towards the end, maybe the last bar they go to, Desmond walks up to Sofia and requested that they leave because the big rat pet she had would make other customers uncomfortable.

Sofia and Kugrash are already drunk at this moment but they hear Desmond call Kugrash a rat and are like “you can see him???”.

Kugrash immediately remembers Desmond as one of the homeless kids he helped when Desmond first moved into the city and had clocked him as ‘strange’ because there was something about him that felt... not exactly magical but almost magical-adjacent.

This ends with Sofia and Kugrash inviting Desmond to their new party as a recruit (with Sofia thinking both (1) this boy needs someone in his life to take care of him and now I’m trying not to cry because my cheating (as far as she knows) husband and I never had kids and (2) maybe he and Pete can get along as newbies with me)

And that is how our Intrepid Heroes managed to recruit an Assassin Rogue who may or may not multiclass to Gloom Stalker in a different playstyle to Liam Wilhelmina.

.

Unorganized Notes:

This is a Desmond who doesn’t know about his destiny or his ancestors but his training on the Farm is so ingrained into him that it makes him a Rogue.

Because of his lack of knowledge, we can argue that he could turn into a Thief Rogue instead of Assassin in this one because he had never assassinated anyone before.

In terms of playstyle, he’d actually be more a close combat attacker that uses some kind of switchknife with sneak attack being part of 'bonus action: hide -> main action: sneak attack')

Another suggestion I have is for Desmond to subclass as Phantom, more because of ‘Whisper of the Dead’ where every short or long rest, he can gain one skill or tool proficiency and the flavor text describes it as one of the ghostly presence shares its knowledge to the user. Desmond has no idea what this means because this is pre-canon but this is actually his ancestors managing to create a link to him in some form thanks to the Umbral Arcana mixing with his ‘destiny’.

If you want Desmond to be given the illusion of choice and not be a Rogue, we can make him a Warlock ‘worshiping’ an unknown Fathomless. In this setup, they don’t know who Desmond’s patron is and Desmond himself just shrugs because he can do magic so that’s nice. Part of his deal is that he receives messages from his patron in the form of texts on his phone. They all come from an unknown number he can’t call and the texts are always like ‘The Scholar is pleased with your desire to learn about the history of this place’ or ‘The Prophet is worried of your health and asks that you requests your companions for a rest’ or ‘The Hunter suggests you still find a weapon even if you are using magic’ and this is some weird shit even for Kingston because it seems like Desmond has multiple patrons or maybe even an entire pantheon of unknown gods/beings.

Abstergo is going to be so fucked in this one because, by the time they try to kidnap Desmond, he’d probably be around level 10~12 and maybe even living with Pete in his apartment.

And yes. Desmond absolutely knows Ricky as Mister March as well XD

[acadjonne]

“mundane memory” headcanons for a fic i’m writing where rogue shares memories of logan with laura in the void

he was in love with jean and everyone could tell

rogue suspects he was also had a thing for scott based on his habit of bothering him (she calls it “pulling on his pigtails”)

telling laura about logan comforting scott when jean died

after both jean and scott had died, logan became very protective of everyone at the school

he didn’t show his protectiveness of storm specifically because he knew she wouldn’t have let him

logan telling bobby’s parents he was an art professor

logan being decent but not great at art, but being amazing at calligraphy and guitar

logan almost never writing anything down, which rogue found ironic given his amnesia

one of the first classes logan taught at the school being first aid and field medicine, followed by wilderness survival classes, and eventually history as he recovered some of his memories

logan wandering into the room while some younger kids were watching anime in japanese and correcting the subtitle translations

logan having a 100% accuracy rate at pointing out kids with undiagnosed adhd

logan being unable to fall asleep with the door open because the school was too loud but not being able to sleep with the window shut because the air in his room would get too stale

despite the professor letting him smoke inside the mansion, logan usually smoked either outside or leaning out a window to avoid exposing anyone to secondhand smoke

after seeing rogue get sucked out of the jet in x2, logan started always wearing a seatbelt if there was someone else in the vehicle while driving because he didn’t want them to watch him get thrown out in a crash

i may add more as i think of them but i thought i’d share these in the meantime

[random-introverted-blog]

Deny Me Not Your Heart [Selunite!Shadowheart x F!Tav]

Intended Audience: Mature and up [Like that stops anyone]

Who be smoochin? : Shadowheart x F!Tav [can't write M!Tav even if you threatened my bloodline and I don't trust myself to maintain Gn!Tav] Really it's Durge but it's like, one singular reference.

Warnings: Remember the drabble idea where I said let them cook in the suffer-sauce for longer than a day and half a minute?, sad angst with a happy ending [I don't read fics to feel sad after either], lots of blood, description of injuries, lots of literal praying...

Word Count: 2,729 baebeee

Up, up and awayyyy

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Just one more day. One more evening and they wouldn't need these tents anymore. No more roughing it in the wilderness. There would be warmth and beds. Tonight was the last night they would need to scavenge or hunt for food.

So why did Shadowheart feel so uneasy?

Tav had become an excellent hunter for the small rogue she was. It had become a point of pride for her, so much so she had denied all offers of help. Again. Gale had offered to prepare a filling meal with the abundant supplies they had left over (their leader was somewhat of a food hoarder), but Tav had refused the offer as well. Insistent that they have a fresh meal to celebrate the occasion. They had survived the long journey to Baldur's Gate after all, and Shadowheart herself had turned her sights to a brighter future. Of course, there was plenty of reason to be excited.

She just wished she could have spent it with some wine and the woman she... cared for. Deeply.

Gods, she was foolish. They had quite the rapport, had been through so much and still she struggled to admit to herself the depth of her feelings. She had devoted so much of her heart to Shar. To the exclusion of all else, and nearly lost Tav because of it. It was a miracle that she accepted her feelings outside the mausoleum that night after the way she had brushed the rogue off for so long... Perhaps when they arrive in the Gate. Or maybe it would be best told after they defeat the brain?

"I don't like this" Wyll abruptly broke the silence, rising from the log they dragged in front of the fire. "It's been too long, she should have returned by now." He said, turning back toward his tent to gather his equipment.

Karlach rose to meet him. "I'll come with. Three eyes are better than one, eh?" Flashing that toothy grin that Wyll couldn't help but smile at.

Shadowheart was about to join them before he held up his hand. "It may be best you wait here in case she comes back, lest she see you missing and charge out after you." With a small smile.

Karlach gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and went for her equipment as well. Then the two disappeared into the darkness. She wrung her fingers and watched the flames lick at the wood before she thought better of herself and left for her tent. Anxiously sitting around did no one any favors, did it?

Time passed painfully slow from that moment on. There was no way something could have happened to Tav. From the way she could playfully sneak up on her in the evenings, her precise aim with her shortbow, that silver tongue, it was hard to fathom a situation their formidable leader couldn't handle. So long as it didn't involve cheese.

For reasons no one was privy to.

However much time has actually passed, she couldn't say. But that wasn't her concern.

The frantic shouting of two familiar voices was.

Karlach came barreling forward from the brush as Shadowheart stepped from her tent, followed by Wyll not long after. Both their eyes darting around camp. As soon as they met her eyes, Karlach set down a blood drenched, barely recognizable Tav on a bedroll Wyll had just laid out. "We found her like this! A wolf was sniffing around, but that was it!" The tiefling panted, stepping away to allow the cleric room to work.

Shadowheart urgently dove to her side and took in the situation. It was difficult to tell with all the blood, there were wounds all long her torso that left her leather armor in tattered ruins, a deep wound that nearly hid itself in her hairline if not for the blood pouring from it. But the most concerning was the dark, almost black looking blood from her waist that was staining the bedroll. "Hells below, what happened to you?" She breathed, hating the shudder in her voice as she easily tore open the now-worthless armor and channeled her magic and eased her hands on the body.

So much colder than she's ever felt it before.

Tav's chest was barely rising, the only indication she was clinging to life, if only by a thread. Somehow. "We tried potions, they just... stalled it." Wyll explained somberly.

"I'm healing what I can, but not fast enough. " Shadowheart hurried the words before shouting over her shoulder "Gale!" She bit her lip and turned back to Tav, finding some semblance of relief when some wounds on her chest finally stopped bleeding.

A figure knelt down beside Tav, opposite Shadowheart. Laying radiant hands on the bloody body as well. "Two healers are better than one, no?"

Her eyes shot up to meet the warm ones of Isobel. Who flashed her a small, reassuring smile and turned her attention to Tav. "Lady Selûne, in your silver light, I beseech your grace. Heal the wounds that afflict Tav, restore strength, and bring solace to their spirit. By your celestial touch, may pain fade, and well-being be renewed. Selûne, guide my hands in this sacred act..." The prayer would normally have made Shadowhearts' blood boil, but gods, she would pray to Shar again if it meant keeping Tav beside her.

She took a deep breath, guiding her own healing along Tav's body, and heaved it from her chest. "Moonw—Selûne, please... Bring her back to me."

Between hers and Isobel's hands, and the somber audience surrounding them, their healing could only go so far before both clerics' hands burned and stung from the magic they funneled well beyond their own limits.

But it had paid off. Tav's heart was beating a steady, though faint, rhythm. They would need bandages to protect some wounds they couldn't quite heal... but Tav was alive.

And unconscious.

With careful arms, Shadowheart lifted the rogue into her arms and gingerly carried her into her own tent. What she said to the others, she can't recall. It wasn't important, anyway. She sat beside her all night, sleepless. Her thumb occasionally tracing around the wound on her head.

Morning came, and Tav showed no signs of waking. She had hardly stirred at all, only her breathing kept Shadowheart's own heart calm. The group decided to wait another day before discussing anything further. It was only when evening came along, when Isobel offered to keep watch over her, that Shadowheart at last departed her lover's tent in search of a meal. As odd as the notion was, to trust a Selûnite...

To keep herself occupied, and to express her... gratitude to Selûne for her grace. Shadowheart took a knife to her hair, coloring it white with some dye she had asked Isobel for.

Compliments the next morning did little to soothe her anxious heart as she set eyes on Tav. Isobel had just changed her bandages when she noticed the former Sharran.

She only had to shake her head.

It took some planning and plenty of coordination, but they had procured a small wooden wagon from a grave tender's shed nearby. And as much as it made Shadowheart grimace seeing her very much alive lover laid on a device that had carried corpses, it was better than leaving her behind.

After the first ten or so odd stares they had gotten from passerby when they wheeled Tav through Baldur's Gate, Shadowheart gave up glaring at them. They had to fend off some shapeshifter from threatening some "blood-kin" she was going off about, narrowly avoided clowns from a nearby circus and she shoo'd off some overly insistent cheese merchant peddling his goods. Shadowheart only spent the last of her energy charming and playing the guard at the drawbridge. Shedding a few tears as she spun the sad tale of her heroic lover. Whether or not they were real, no one could tell. Not even herself.

She had to resist kicking the sodding thing aside once they reached the Elfsong. Wyll and Astarion had taken their turn to persuade the innkeeper to give them a large enough room for them all. The only complaint came from Astarion, unused to the need to beguile people after Tav had been doing it for so long.

Shadowheart ignored it as she lightly brushed Karlach aside and lifted Tav into her own arms... and an ever faint twitch to her features froze the cleric stiff. "You good?" Karlach questioned, tone edged with concern.

For a moment, she just stared down at the small rogue before shaking her head clear. Her weary eyes must be playing tricks on her. "Yes, of course." And she turned away before she could press further her.

Once she had established a room for themselves, she eased Tav onto the bed before stepping outside to gather their things and put them away. She didn't even take her dyed Dark Justiciar armor off before collapsing at her bedside.

Three days. Three godsdamned days without her. And it felt like a whole bloody year. Without her smile. Her laugh. The sound of her voice whispering sweet nothings into her pointed ears at night.

The tears that flowed now were very much real, there was no doubt. Her face leaned against the edge of the bed, careful to avoid wetting her bandages. "Please come back," she pleaded, voice barely above a whisper. "I can't do this without you." Her parents, the Absolute... They had only come so far because of Tav. She had only come so far because of Tav.

She hadn't realized how incredibly daunting all their goals seemed without her. Every goal they had set, every aspiration they had shared, now appeared larger than life without Tav. The enormity of it all struck her like a tidal wave, threatening to consume her in its overwhelming force. The once clear path they had envisioned together now looked like an insurmountable mountain, its peak obscured by clouds of fear and self-doubt. With each passing moment, a sense of helplessness washed over her. She had always been their anchor, their unwavering support, and now, without her, their ambitions seemed to drift aimlessly in a sea of uncertainty.

A hand touched her shoulder, jolting her upright. Isobel's tender eyes met hers. "Your friends are leaving to explore the city. I'm happy to watch over her until you return."

Shadowheart glanced behind her. Of course, she forgot to close the door. A rejection was on the tip of her tongue, but something stopped her. Something she never thought she'd ever ask for. "Could you... pray over her... like before?"

Isobel's features flickered with surprise, but not with judgement or even smugness. "Would it offend you if I said I already have been? While you've been away?" She joked with a wry smile. "I would love to, Shadowheart. May I?" Gesturing to the spot beside her on the floor.

She nodded, scooting toward the head of the bed to give the fellow cleric room beside Tav. Isobel knelt down, carefully taking Shadowheart's hand, and lifting their joined palms gently on Tav's belly before bowing her head, cueing Shadowheart to do the same. "My Lady of Silver, guide this slumbering soul. Illuminate the path through the shadows that bind Tav. In your gentle light, awaken her spirit, bringing clarity and renewed vitality..." Isobel prayed, for a while, in fact.

When at last she departed and left them alone, Shadowheart made a point to close the door behind her, the click of the latch faintly resounding in the room. After removing her armor, she climbed into bed and snuggled up beside Tav, reveling in the warmth of her body. Her fingertips feathered over her arm, just the way she remembers soothed the rogue. She closes her eyes and inhales, savoring the faint scent of vanilla that still lingers on her skin. Her voice quivering she softly whispers, "I love you dearly, you foolish, fragile thing," her eyes stinging anew with tears. "And if you don't wake up soon..." She hesitated, her voice catching in her throat, "...you might just find yourself becoming a reluctant connoisseur of rare, aged cheese..."

"Don't..." rasped a voice she doubted she'd hear again "you dare..."

In a flash, Shadowheart sat up and stared down with wide eyes... into the open, heavy but incredibly beautiful eyes... Open... and locking with hers. "Thank Selûne..." Shadowheart breathed, barely aware of her quivering lip. "Thank you, Selûne..." As she threw her arms around Tav as best she could in this position. Nestling her nose into her neck, placing one soft kiss after another against her skin.

"Who are you, and what did you do with the real Shadowheart?" Tav coughed, but even with how dry her throat was, it was clearly a playful jab.

Shadowheart pulled back, narrowing her eyes for a moment in her own teasing glare, before it broke into a soft laugh. Leaving the bed only to pour Tav a cup of water. "Funny you mention that..." she started as she turned back to the bed and sat on the edge beside her. Helping guide Tav into a semi-upright position and despite handing the cup to her, Shadowheart maintained a hand on it to ensure it didn't slip.

The longer Tav stared at her, the more her brows creased. "How long have I been out? The bed... your hair..."

"Do you like it?" She queried, quickly touching a hand to her dyed white hair.

Tav's touch was tender as she took her hand, placing delicate kisses on each knuckle. "I love it." Lips brushing the back of her hand, holding it as she smiles into her eyes. Shadowheart's breath escaped her lips in an unexpected sigh, releasing the tension she didn't realize she was holding. The only compliment that truly soothed her nerves.

"And I love you too... Deeply." She added, biting her lip and shyly looking away.

Shadowheart paused, blinking. She... heard her?

She loves her back??

She...

She leans down slowly, their noses grazing, then their lips before they slowly press together. It's a sweet kiss at first. Tender, lazy, speaking things to each other that words could never capture. The taste so uniquely her and incredibly intoxicating. More than any wine she'd ever indulged in. She could kiss her forever and want for nothing, if her body would allow it. She's missed her lips so much that the tiniest of noises escapes her as her fingers tangle in the hairs on the nape of Tav's neck. "I've loved you for so long, but dared not allow you into my heart" She whispered against Tav's lips between kisses, "but now I can't imagine a day I'd hesitate to welcome you in it."

Shadowheart smiled a little at the way Tav's breath hitched at the words, their lips only briefly reconnecting before a knock came to the door.

It flung open before she had time to answer. "Shadsy, look what I found! Tav will love it when—!" Karlach gushes as she strides into the room, carrying a stuffed Owlbear toy. Cutting herself off when she realizes what she's walked in on, Shadowheart slowly straightening upright. "TAV, YOU'RE AWAKE." She shouts loud enough the whole tavern probably hears her.

And like that, the moment is shattered as their companions flood into the room. Karlach shoving the gift into Tav's arms, everyone smiling and even occasionally giving the gentlest of hugs to their awakened leader. Even Astarion seems genuinely relieved.

However, Shadowheart feels a pair of eyes directed at her. Casting a glance in its direction, she examines until she finds the source. Connecting with a certain Selûnite standing just outside the door. She responds to Shadowhearts silent confusion with a nod and smile, then turns away.

Shadowheart's lips curved into a gentle smile, illuminating her face with warmth, and returned her attention to Tav. Who she loved. Not so long ago, she believed her heart had only room for shadows, for darkness and loss. It only took nearly losing the love of her life twice to realize how foolish that belief was. Now, her heart warmed, and fluttered like a flame flickering to life. And it craved for so much more than she ever knew it could feel, nevermind hold. It yearned for her.

And Shadowheart would never deny her heart of her again.

[sylviesoothsayer22]

Well Matched - Chapter 1

Lycoris radiata

When the Yiling Laozu’s spirit emerged from the Burial Mounds as a newborn Calamity, the entire cultivation world trembled in fear.

Wei Ying just wanted to find a quiet place to rest. He had no plan, so he naturally followed the strange butterfly that seemed to beckon him somewhere. What’s the worst that could happen?

“You’re adorable.”

“I thought I was charming.”

“Charming and adorable. I’m tempted to keep you.”

“….sweet-talker.”

“Rejoice, Wei Wuxian is dead!”

“Fantastic, fantastic indeed! Remind me again, who was the hero who killed the Yiling Laozu?”

“His shidi! The little sect leader Jiang Cheng!”

Everyone in the tavern laughed and declared those who have led the Siege of the Burial Mounds heroes. They all toasted to the Patriarch’s demise.

It had been several months since the news first broke out and many have not yet ceased celebrating.

A condescending snort cut through their revelry. All eyes were drawn to the rogue cultivator lounging in his seat. One youth lazily twisted his head to the man’s direction and cast his left eye on the speaker.

“Too early for that.” He rumbled. “The days of the Yiling Laozu are far from over.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me ask you all a question.” The speaker said. Clearly pleased to have everyone’s attention. “Since Wei Wuxian wasn’t born into the Jiang sect, how many Soul-Tranquilization Rites has he undergone before his violent death?”

Almost every member in the tavern paled in realization.

“You can’t mean that he’ll come back as a ghost!”

“Even if he did, every soul within the Burial Mounds are trapped there. The amount of resentful energy alone makes it impossible for the dead to break free!”

“The Burial Mounds no longer hold as much resentful energy as they used to.” The cultivator informed them gravely.

“What do you mean?!”

“Speak plainly!”

“Don’t go around spreading false rumours for attention, you old fart!”

The only person who didn’t put up a fuss was the youth who was watching the pandemonium with a bored expression. The cultivator gazed at the anxious crowd in silence before loudly slamming his jug on the table.

“Silence! Do you wish to hear what happened after the Siege or not?!”

Everyone quieted and listened to the cultivator with wrapped attention as he began his tale:

“After the Patriarch’s demise, all was quiet for a while and the Great Sects believed it would be the end of it. Yet, some wandering cultivators detected strange disturbances within the Mounds. The resentful energy appeared to be constantly fluctuating. Through their observations, they saw a thick red fog emerge and cover the mountains. The wanderers notified the sects who sent out members of high rank. Those same men would come back and swear blind that they saw the Patriarch lurking around.”

“How is it that no one has heard of this until now?”

“The sects silenced as many gossipers as they could find. They did not wish to spread panic or give the demonic worshippers hope.” The cultivator cast the interrupter a slight glare. “May I continue now?” He asked dryly.

“At that point, all of the sects believed that Wei Wuxian did not pass on. Many high-ranking cultivators, sect leaders and head disciples converged on the spot where they sensed the yin energy was at its highest, believing that the Patriarch’s spirit was still recuperating. Wanting to put an end to this drawn-out battle, they rushed at the swirling mass only to stop in their tracks!”

“Thorny black vines shot through the rocky ground and held them all in a vice-like grip. They tried to hack them off with their swords, but new vines would grow in their place. The bound cultivators felt themselves growing weak. Somehow, Wei Wuxian drained them of their spiritual energy. What’s worse, the red fog surrounding the mountain hardened and formed into a barrier. By the time the cultivators realized that they had walked into a trap, there was a familiar sound of a dizi playing.”

The crowd’s eyes were as wide as saucers. The youth’s eyes were narrowed in deep thought. Many leaned forward as the cultivator continued with his story:

“A figure emerged through the fog. None other than the Yiling Laozu himself! Different, but still recognizable. When he was last seen, he was gaunt, injured and looked ready to collapse at any moment. Back then, he looked fragile but unmistakably human. Now, not anymore. His skin was as white as pale snow. The grey of his robes swirled unnaturally against the breeze like ash. The black of his clothes were so dark, they appeared to be devouring any form of light. It almost looked as if it were made of shadows. His eyes let out an eerie blood red glow. There was a vial full of -what appeared to be- ashes suspended around his neck by a red string. The strangest addition to Wei Wuxian’s appearance was the countless ghostly-green fireflies floating around him. What purpose they serve, I do not know.”  The speaker shook his head. His expression haunted.

“Everyone believed that the Patriarch was about to start another massacre. One that would overshadow what he did in Nightless City. Instead, he plays one sharp note and Wei Wuxian dissolved into a murder of crows! The crows and fireflies passed through the shield and scattered into several different directions. Everyone else was left trapped within the barrier. For whatever reason, Wei Wuxian chose to spare the cultivation world his wrath that night.”

The crowd traded panicked whispers among themselves. The speaker watched them with an amused expression.

“You make it sound as if you were there.” The red robed youth piped up, while the rest of the tavern were busy processing the Yiling Laozu’s strange new powers. The rogue cultivator looked at the youth, affronted.

“I was there, ignorant brat! It took us nearly six months to break through that damned barrier and another three to search for that devil’s weakness in the Burial Mounds!”

“How has no one heard of this until now?” A member of the crowd asked disbelievingly.

“This is now common knowledge in the entire cultivation world. It’s not my fault no one cared to inform the people in this backwatered village!”

The youth snorted and shot back “How much of this story is fabricated? Unless you can provide proof that you were there yourself, I don’t see much of a point in listening to your fairy tales.”

The crowd let out murmurs of agreement. The rogue cultivator felt a tick mark growing on his forehead. He grabbed an item that was wrapped in layers of talismans from his pocket and slammed it on the table in front of the youth.

“Here’s your proof! The jade token that was once tied to Chenqing!” The youth picked up the token and examined it. The item exuded an absurd amount of yin energy that could only belong to something powerful.

“It certainly appears authentic.” He commented. The cultivator snatched back the token from the young man’s hands.

“Bah! What would you know?” He grumbled as a he re-wrapped the item and put it back in his pocket. The youth shot him an unimpressed look.

“You mentioned that you and your fellow cultivators were looking for the Patriarch’s weakness. Did you find it?” The youth asked blithely. The rogue cultivator gnashed his teeth.

“No. The Yiling Laozu is far too cunning.” He faced the crowd once more.

“While normal ghosts can be dissipated in numerous ways or sealed with a spirit-trapping pouch, beings like Wei Wuxian can only be destroyed through the destruction of their ashes.”

“Didn’t you mention he had a vial of ashes wrapped around his neck? Why were you looking for them in the Mounds?” A member of the crowd asked, confused.

“I’m getting there!” The rogue snapped before continuing “We looked for clues on where would Wei Wuxian go to for refuge. Through our findings we found many similar looking vials and took the chance that maybe his was among them. When we started destroying every vial we could see, we realized these ashes belonged to other ghosts. The truly horrifying part? After we captured a stray soul and demanded information, it was revealed that they willingly sacrificed themselves for the Patriarch. He did not even have to use his flute on them!” The cultivator shook his head in disbelief before continuing. “Somehow, this Wei Wuxian won the ghosts' loyalty after the destruction of his mortal body. They even called him ‘our lord’!”

“Perhaps he’s building a city for the dead as we speak.” One member mumbled. Almost everyone in the tavern let out shudders at that possibility. The only ones who weren’t affected was the story-teller and the youth. The rogue cultivator snorts.

“Now who’s telling fairy tales?” He took on a severe countenance.

“If the Yiling Laozu decided to create a ghost realm, the amount of resentful energy needed would attract the attention of every single cultivator within a thousand miles. Don’t you get it, you fools? He’s in hiding! Right now, he has likely suppressed the majority of his powers to such a degree that it would take a strong spiritual weapon to detect him.”

“Do you mean that finding the Patriarch is a hopeless endeavour?” The youth drawled out in a bored manner.

“Not quiet. Remember the ghost-flies? Normal fireflies only come out in the summer. Yet, no matter the season, these creatures follow him wherever he goes. We merely have to wait for news on them.” The rogue cultivator concluded.

“How sad that the entirety of the cultivation world has to rely on mere rumours and heresy to catch one measly ghost.” The youth remarked, casually.

“Well, do you have any better ideas?!” The rogue cultivator shouted. “If you don’t, then get out of my sight! You disrespectful wretch!”

The youth shrugged and got up. He brushed past the ill-tempered cultivator and smirked in secret as he exited the tavern. Once the ‘young man’ was a fair distance away, he pulled out the token that he snatched from the arrogant cultivator. A silver butterfly landed on the item. Hua Cheng waited as the creature scented the yin signature and watched as it took off in search of the source. He continued his leisurely walk.

Wei Wuxian. He thought. What an interesting character you are.

Chapter End.

Author's Note: Lycoris radiata is the botanical name for red spider lily. The flower is typically associated with death, long journeys, sad memories and final goodbyes. Interestingly, the colour red usually means love and passion.

Omake:

WWX: *sneezes for the nth time that day*

WWX: Aish! Have I suddenly become so popular?! Why the hell are people talking about me so much?!

WQ & WN: *judgmentally staring*

WWX: *sweatdrops* Nevermind~

All three: *see something let out a silver glow in a corner* Wait. What was that?

I'll try and post the rest of this fic one chapter per-week until I eventually run out. Hope ya enjoyed it!

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

Hear me out:

It can be super frustrating to watch Emerie be complicit in the imprisonment and experimentation and torture of clones, having a change of heart only when she finds out there are kids in the basement (kids who, frankly, are being treated quite well relative to the other prisoners).

But what I find so fascinating about this plot point is that it is SO REALISTIC.

Even those of us who staunchly assert that there are lines that should never be crossed in how people are treated may find ourselves agreeing with the justifications for the treatment certain people - especially prisoners - receive, depending on what we know their crimes to be.

Imagine Emerie's point of view based on what she had been told of the prisoners. Maybe she only knew them as soldiers who had been court-martialed and sentenced to imprisonment for insubordination. But it's likely she had heard more details - through the lens of the Empire, of course - of what their insubordination entailed: Terrorists took over a planet's government when he disobeyed orders. This other clone betrayed his squad and they all died. That one over there went rogue and children died in the crossfire. He consorted with traitors. He blew up a civilian target. He murdered civilians when they couldn't provide intel. He shot his commanding officer in the face in an unprovoked attack.

We see early on that Emerie was bothered by Hemlock referring to Omega as "property." But I am sure that when it came to the adult, battle-hardened soldiers she saw every day, the atrocities she had likely been told they'd committed provided enough superficial justification for their imprisonment and treatment that she didn't bother thinking more deeply about the moral implications of what she was doing. (And besides, if some of the clones would just cooperate, it would be easier on them - they're just making it harder on themselves.)

But then she's confronted with children. Children who aren't soldiers. Children who hadn't committed any of the crimes that provide "justification" for the other clones being imprisoned on Tantiss. Children who are far too young to have done anything to warrant imprisonment (and lest there be ANY doubt about this - some children have been known to show dangerous tendencies, after all - Cad Bane promptly drops off a baby).

The children are what forcibly open Emerie's eyes to see that the experiments on Tantiss aren't limited to subjects who might "deserve" such treatment. And if some subjects don't deserve it... maybe none of them do. Maybe everything she's been doing - including with the adult prisoners - HAS been wrong.

[ludi-ling]

Woooooow... just saw ep 9 of X'Men 97. I may not like all of their choices, but damn do they go hard and I appreciate the execution of it. The last minute was soooo much wow. Prof X mind controlling Magneto, Magneto helmeting him and about to kill him, Wolverine stabbing Magneto and Magneto un-adamantiuming Wolvie...wooooow...

I do not know what they're going to do next. I knew Rogue would go to Magneto based on her costume alone. That's the OG terrorist Rogue/villainous Rogue costume. I might not love that decision of her going to Magneto... but based on what's happened, it makes sense. And omg, her wearing Remy's trench coat? Cryyyying. The one thing I can see with Rogue going back to the X-Men is Magneto wanting to kill Deathbit because Deathbit is dangerous.

Because I still believe Remy is coming back. I cite X-Treme X-Men and everything Rogue says to bring him back. Absolute Points? Nexus Events? They don't matter. X-Men make their own miracles. I literally said this as my thesis for why Gambit is coming back and then hours later the panel appeared on my feed lol.

One more week of me screaming, crying and throwing up.

Rogue is pissed. She's had to face a trauma she hasn't had to ever face before. I can completely understand this trajectory she's walking. It makes sense for the arc that her character is going through in this universe. The bit where she handed back the trench coat though? That killed me.

Gambit will come back. It's just a matter of how and when. I can't believe people truly think he's going to stay dead. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I truly appreciate this series for taking something we all loved as kids and spinning it into an adult story. I know it's hard - literally everyone is miserable in this show - but damn, I suppose that's life. And I guess it's hard for some fans to accept the turn this show has taken when we all expected the gentle fluff of Romy in TAS. What Romy have had so far in XM97, and eventually will have, is something far more adult and something I'm far more interested in than the non-committal flirting we got in TAS.

Don't get me wrong - there are plenty of things in XM97 I don't agree with or like. But on the whole I think it's done a really good job in (let's face it) a short amount of time of achieving something smart and thought-provoking and visceral despite its flaws. I'm actually kind of excited to see what happens next. I'm ready to be disappointed again, but I'm ready to be pleasantly surprised too.

At the very least, it has got me inspired to write Romy again. A LOT of the heartache and anger and admiration I have felt watching the show I have channelled into writing The Tailor & The Seamstress, and it's been the first time I've been genuinely excited about fic in a while. So I have a lot to thank the show for, despite all the anxiety and angst it's given me.

[ravenloop]

hi darling! i do see that you want requests in your inbox so im here to fullfil that want of yours :)

oh, btw i really do expect that you're well and, if you don't, please take care of yourself okay??

anyways, the request is for the arcana characters, more specifically for julian, asra and muriel (idk how much characters you accept for request but if you need to you can take one of these off) with a reader that does like art and try to make everything in their lifes a little bit more fun, colorful and artsy.

you can write in any format you're more comfortable in writing, but i think that maybe headcannons is easier. oh, and if you could do the reader gender neutral would be good!

oh and if you couldn't understand something, im sorry, english is not my first language. and if you want to, feel free to ignore this request.

AN: Thank you for the kind words!! I am doing well, busy but well :)) also you speak English amazingly!! Anyways here's your request <33 I haven't done Muriel's route yet so forgive me if anything is wrong :')

Headcannons: Julian, Asra and Muriel with an artistic S/O

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Julian:

Honestly? He loves it!

It may not seem like it with the pirate outfit and rogue-ish lifestyle, but Julian is quite the colour lover himself. He just loves the energy and atmosphere vibrant colours bring.

So when you and him meet, and he finds out you're an even bigger lover of colours and an artist at that—the man was practically bursting with excitement.

Definitely gets you some art supplies. But since Julian has little to zero knowledge on being an artist, his art supplies aren't always the most helpful. Though you still appreciate him for trying to help with your hobby, even if his "paint" looks like it belongs in a potion brewing shop.

Practically demands to see some of your older art works and becomes sad if you say no. It's fine though if you don't let him, he'll find them eventually (his words, not yours).

Whenever you're painting or doing anything artsy, he's almost always by your side asking questions and just chatting with you. And as always you enjoy it when he's with you, it makes you feel warm inside knowing he's as passionate about watching you paint as you are about painting.

"Julian, I need you to-"

"I know, I know—you want me to stop staring at you. But I can't help it! You're just so beautiful when you're focused on something you're so passionate about!"

"...That's really sweet, but that's not what I was gonna ask. You're sitting on my paint pallette, could you maybe get off it?"

"WHAT—"

Asra:

You're an artist?? He's ENAMOURED already.

Asra adores everything you paint. He himself is a bit of an artist, but he doesn't paint as often as you since he's always busy with the Major Arcana amongst other things.

When he travels for long periods of time and comes back, he always brings you things like art supplies, trinkets or flowers, saying, "They reminded me of you." And he loves watching your eyes sparkle as you think of the different ways you can use the items.

After a long day, Asra just likes curling up besides you while you create your masterpieces. He'll bring you a warm drink and food too, before settling down on a blanket besides you.

If you ask, he'll give you some pointers or tell you what you could add to your work as you paint. He has an eye for detail.

"I think a few flowers would look really nice over here." He points to a certain part of the canvas.

"You always think flowers look nice in every painting," You playfully respond, and see him look away shyly. "What can I say? They really do!"

Asra could stare at your work for hours without feeling the need to look away. He just loves the mixture of colours and patterns you use. They remind him of the different realms and he finds that beautiful.

Sometimes you even use things from around his home for inspiration. It could be anything—his clothes, the intricate patterns on his curtains, sometimes even his tarot cards, and he won't say it aloud but it gives him a bit of a confidence boost. It's almost as if a piece of him is within your art work.

Muriel:

Muriel is a very... Dark and gloomy man in general.

The forest is his home, but not the pretty and flower-filled part, he makes his home in the shadowy, dark and somewhat dangerous parts of the forest.

So when you come into his life and bring all of this colour and vibrance, it throws him off. He doesn't know what to make of it. He feels to seen with all of it.

"What are you doing?" He approaches you as you hang a vine of flowers over the fireplace.

You look back and smile, "I thought it could use a little bit of... Decor..." You notice the way he frowns, even harder than usual as he stares at the decoration. "I'll take it ou-" "No. Leave it."

You're shocked, "Muriel, if you don't like it I can-" "I like it. It's pretty... Like you" He mutters the last part, so softly you almost don't hear him. Then he leaves. Quickly.

You smile to yourself.

After that you notice he spends more time with you as you decorate or make things, you even started asking him for his opinion on some things. He always responds with "Hm..." But you'll take what you can get.

Sometimes you take Inanna with you to hunt for things in the wild that you could use. Muriel was weary at first of letting you go with her, but Inanna seemed happy to go, so Muriel allowed it. After a while you even convinced him to come along on your art scouting journeys too. He comes in handy when you get carried away and find a little too many items that you need to take with you.

Oh and if anyone ever criticizes your art, no they didn't. In fact, almost as soon as they criticize it, they're on their knees worshipping you and the art itself. Why? Let's just say a big, terrifying man glaring down at you with eyes that say "I will rip your limbs apart and relish in every second of it" is not very fun.

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