#not nearly often enough to generalize the whole anime???

[childeapologist]

Also friend who cut me off posted some time back that they "slept on Frieren bc they thought it would be all 'moe moe' garbage but that they were presently surprised. however it's still 90% 'moe moe' garbage"

MOE MOE WHERE???? LMAO?? DO YOU NOT KNOW WHAT MOE MEANS???

maybe sometimes when Himmel is on screen but still WHAT?????

[rainrot4me]

Whispers In The Trees

Summary: Prepped your whole life to complete a ritual to hand yourself over to a monster, you demand the reason why. When he gives you the answers, he demands your body.

Characters: Slenderman x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Big size difference, rituals, tentacles, gagging, choking, suffocation, eating out, Slender has a big tongue, vaginal, tip fucking, forcing, blood, clawing

Words: 5.2k

The curse of Slenderman had been in your family for generations.

Since you were little, this curse-like entity crept on your kin and ruled their lives. Demanding sacrifices and obedience every decade; deeming itself a God over you. 

So as you trekked through the dense moonlit woods, you clutched the wicker basket so hard in your hands that it nearly cracked. You tried to think of your mother and her sisters, and her mother and her sisters, who have gone through this same ritual like generations before. The fog was dense all around you, the small flashlight in your hand doing little to breach the thick blanket. 

The nature around you was quiet, a dull whisper of insects and animals as you trudged through the underbrush and thick roots. You knew this path, having walked it often when you were little to help your mother and sisters prepare for their turns, their time to appease the creature. You didn’t understand then, but now that you were dressed in thin white robes and bare feet, reality quickly faced you. In other circumstances, the outfit wouldn’t be bad, a nice Halloween costume of some cute cult girl from Midsommar maybe. But as you neared the familiar clearing past the trees, you didn’t find the idea of being a sacrifice funny anymore. 

Standing just at the edge of the treeline, you took a deep breath, limbs shaking against the cold and fear that ran through you. It was late summer, well past midnight, and the night air brushed against your flushed cheeks leaving goosebumps. Closing your eyes, you stepped forward, leaving the dense forest behind you. 

A sense of dread immediately engulfed you. The fog suddenly fizzled out on the ground like it wasn’t just blinding you. The air was silent, not a bug or animal to be heard no matter how hard you listened. And the breeze just stopped. It was like the whole forest was afraid to move into this clearing, hugging close to the treeline curiously but daring no further. But you had to, no matter how badly you wanted to turn and run back home to the safe arms of your family. To keep the vengeful creature at bay, this was the price that must be met. Every ten years, you watched as another woman from your family disappeared for a night late in the summer, silently praying that she would make it home in the morning. They always did, but the haunting look that followed them shook you to your core. 

Reaching the center of the clearing, a dead spot in the grass was etched in a circular shape, the familiar pattern laid before you. Lying down your basket, you flicked off your flashlight, the moon illuminating a milky blue hue into the clearing bright enough for you to see. You shuddered, the silence creeping into your mind and making you look around quickly, paranoia gripping you. You huffed, rummaging through the items in the large basket and laying the contents out, preparing for the exhausting ritual. Your mother had taught you, every step perfect as she walked you through the routine. The symbol, the candles, even the perfect way to position yourself. It was like an art form for her as she taught you and your sisters.

Unwrapping the large bag of salt you packed, you began to follow the outline in the grass, pouring as you walked slowly. The symbol was forming nicely, a large circle with an x etched through it, the symbol of Slenderman, bore by anything he owned. As you closed the symbol, your heart pounded, the next steps coming quickly as you could feel the forest beyond the treeline begin to stir, its curiosity pressing. Setting candles along the salt, you spaced them evenly, lighting them as you went. It wasn’t nearly as perfect as your mother would have done it, but your shaking hands restrained you slightly, giving you little reason to care.

The candles flickered against the night, the warm glow surrounding you as you studied your work, praying desperately that it was good enough. You felt an impatience in the air, quickly cleaning up the rest of your items into the basket before sighing, and closing your eyes tightly. This was the part you dreaded. The part your family was reluctant to tell you when your time eventually came around. You hooked your hands under the hem of your white robe, the thin fabric almost see-through as you tugged it over your head, your bare body flush against the cold air. Your nipples had already perked, your nervousness making you squirm into yourself as you folded your robe neatly and laid it in the basket, turning back to the salt symbol. Breathing deep, your hands shook, goosebumps running all over your body. You took a step in, careful not to disturb the salt as you kneeled in the middle of the x, tucking your feet under yourself and straightening your back, placing your palms flat against the top of your thighs.

The salt was meant to protect you, a barrier that Slenderman couldn’t break. You were supposed to come out willingly, offering yourself to him without force. Was it for trust or some sadistic attempt at manipulation, you didn’t know. But as you breathed deep, you stared into the dark corners of the forest, eyes flicking nervously and watching for any signs of movement that you knew would come. You had only heard of Slenderman’s appearance, never seeing it besides what your family could recount. Terrifying, was the word they all used. It didn’t help as your heart pounded, the thudding echoing in your ears as you prayed he would never come. But it gave you a good time to reflect.

The specific reason why your family was enslaved to this creature was unsure, tracing back generations and lost with time. But like any of Slenderman’s victims, who's to say exactly why he did anything except for his own gain? 

As you caught yourself zoned out in thought, you were quickly snapped back when you heard the rustling of leaves yards ahead of you. Your eyes snapped wide, back straightening quickly as your tits perked, your naked body on display amongst the candles and decor. You studied the shadows carefully, watching for any sudden movements, your pulse quick. But finally, slinking from the shadows, the lanky creature emerged. The sheer height of him made your heart sink, his bony limbs long and awkward. If it wasn’t for his movement, he could easily blend in with the tall trees surrounding him, making you suspicious of just how long he had been watching concealed by the dense forest. Your nails gripped into your thighs, teeth gritted as you tried to hold down your tears. His presence is overwhelming and otherworldly, defying the logic and rationality you’ve always relied on. The air around you seems to distort, amplifying the surreal nature of his presence until it feels like you can’t breathe. He was closer now, it barely even seemed like he had walked but more like appeared before you, only a few yards away from the circle protecting you. However, the worst part about the encounter was the lack of a face. It was like someone had pressed a sheet against his face, features protruding against the pale skin but offering no obvious facial structure. It was purely terrifying, this creature far beyond what you could’ve imagined.

His dark suit contrasted against his terrifying appearance, his buttoned coat and tie making you knit your brows, your unease only growing. Slenderman just stared, his vacant eyes absently staring down at you. His faceless visage and elongated limbs exuded an unsettling yet compelling magnetism that you found yourself drawn to, eyes refusing to look away as you studied him. Finally catching yourself, you looked down at your hands quickly, cursing yourself for being so disrespectful. “Slenderman, sir.” You mumbled respectfully, keeping your body at attention even though embarrassment wrecked you internally. “I come, as my kin does, to offer myself to you. To fulfill our obligations to you. And to-” 

The speech you had so delicately rehearsed was cut short by a low grumble, the echo of the tall figure’s voice cutting you short.

“I hate to interrupt,” His voice was smooth, every word laced with the undertone of a darker grumble, like two voices were speaking at once, overlapping each other. “But hearing this same dedication every time I meet with one of you becomes rather tiring.” You sat shocked, unsure of what to do next as your careful instructions were quickly skewed. You kept your head down, eyes flicking against the grass as you carefully waited, shaky breaths the only noise between you. You felt so helpless against him, like if you made one wrong move that would be it. The only reason you weren’t screaming and running was the salt circle and the looming fact that if you did run your family would be massacred in minutes. 

“Forgive my rudeness.” He coaxed, pressing closer against the circle until you could see his black dress shoes come into the edge of your vision. You dared to look up, your eyes slightly edging up until you were staring at his face again, that odd sense of being drawn in coming over you again. Slenderman tilted his head, vacant expression examining you. “But, you and I both know what we’re here for. There is no need for formalities anymore.” You knitted your brows, embarrassment creeping up your cheeks as you remembered just how bare you were. You gripped your thighs, nervousness running through your every word. “But I thought there was a need for formalities. This being a ritual and all.” You mumbled, eyes roaming the tall figure, his long limbs clamped respectfully behind his back as he chuckled darkly. “All of this,” He motioned towards the salt circle beneath you. “This is only for aesthetics. You understand, to make the scene more appealing for us. Humans have such an odd fascination with beings like me, so to combat your fickle bravery: you created a routine. Something to take your mind off of just how terrifying encountering me may seem.” He explained calmly, his body hauntingly still as he talked, but there was barely a motion of his jaw, like the voice was coming from somewhere inside. 

You glanced at the salt circle, your efforts to make it look so nice thrown to the wayside. “So, the salt…” You glanced up, Slender nodding reassuringly. “I cannot penetrate it. Your protection is still guaranteed. However, I quite like it when you silly women step outside your protective ring and offer yourselves so willingly.” He was teasing now, his thin hands reaching around to adjust his suit before kneeling in front of you, his limbs awkwardly contorting to allow him in front of you. “But you are not like the others. I feel a very reluctant air from you. The others were a lot more… eager.” He cocked his head to the side. At this angle, you could clearly see the massive bulge beneath his dress slacks, the sheer size of the thing making your stomach twist. “I don’t find giving myself over to a cryptid demon so… appealing.” You huffed back, trying your best to conceal the dark tint against your cheeks. Slender only chuckled, the dark echo of his voice making your skin crawl. “But oh how fun it would be to show you otherwise.” He purred, tracing his pale claw against the edge of the salt, his actions impatient. You squirmed, nails digging into your thighs. 

You straightened up, your bravery low but overruled by your curiosity. “Tell me why. Why the decades of demanding our submission while we cower for the rest? Then, when I am satisfied, I will offer myself. No resistance.”  You demanded, eyes hooded as you tried to stifle your fear. Slender stood slowly, clasping his hands behind his back as he contemplated. Until he finally nodded, sighing. 

“Alright, little one, I’ll bite.” He cooed, that ominous voice seemingly coming from nowhere but everywhere simultaneously. You settled, brain running a mile a minute as your heart beat heavily in your chest. “When old cryptids and beasts still roamed rampant through the Earth, your family was desperate. It must have been more than eight generations ago now, but they sought me out, begging for my protection against the things that went bump in the night. I obliged, my only demand being an offering. I never specified, but you hormonal humans took it upon yourselves to offer your bodies. For all I cared you could have given me your leftovers, but I was more than satisfied with what I have been given.” His words were thick with this cryptic dialect, his accent unheard of. “No such creatures roam these lands, long hunted out or deceased. But your family continued to show up despite my resignation, paranoia convincing them if they didn’t I in turn would be the monster that preyed on you. But, I’m afraid I have more important things to deal with than any of you.” Finished, he leaned forward, his white face vacant, but you could tell what he wanted. 

“Then why do you still co-” 

“Ah, ah, ah. I was promised if questions were answered I would get what I came for.” He growled, the calm voice laced with a tone of demand as you scowled. He waited expectantly, his hands tapping quietly behind his back as you stood, the salt on your knees falling as you shook them off. When you looked up, you realized really just how tall he was. You stopped at his waist, your face eye level with the terrifyingly large bulge nudging against the slacks in front of you. He was tall, towering and matching the height of the trees around you. He stepped back, standing straight as he waited for you.

Breathing deep, you took a step, your foot halfway out of the circle as your heart began to race. You could just wait him out, lay here until morning. But you feared his peacefulness would turn to wrath under desperation. Clenching your fists, you stepped completely out, straining your neck to look him in the face. Slender chuckled, his demeanour instantly switching as you felt the air stir, the forest pressing in on you with such an intensity you thought you were hallucinating. It was like he was controlling the trees themselves, making their branches press in and suffocate you. With a hissing, you finally saw the reason for the sudden intensity. Several black groping tentacles shot from his back, their form close to tree branches with their edges and curvature. He seemed to control them as well, the long limbs reaching around his body and whipping at the air, stretches and tears of the odd black liquid molding into new shapes instantaneously. 

They encompassed your vision, the tentacles casting shadows across your face as they streaked across the moonlight. They slithered forward, sliding across the grass and in the air to grip onto your body. The tentacles were cool, like slimy tree branches that defied all laws of permeation. They slid around your ankles and up your calves, gripping tightly against your thighs before hooking onto your waist. They gripped your wrists, up your forearms and around your neck, tugging as they wrapped around your tits and waist. Soon you were completely secured, the tentacles curiously studying every inch of your bare skin, goosebumps rising everywhere they touched. It was electrifying, your body stiff under the chilled slime. Slender was quiet, his body just as curious as his tentacles as he relished in the way you squirmed under his touch. “So warm.” He mewled, his hands gripped tightly behind him. You shivered as the tentacles breached past your thighs, the slimy tips sliding against your folds, curiously spreading them open while you flinched. They slid further, pressing between your ass cheeks and making you hiss, the coolness sharp against your asshole. 

“Wait-” You whined, your hands straining to push the tentacles off your body but they held your wrists still. They engulfed your tits, the tips wrapping around your nipples and tugging lightly, making you whimper. Slender watched carefully, his face never letting any emotion reveal itself. “Relax, little one. You made this decision. Now let me claim what has been so graciously offered.” He grinned. The tentacles slipped between your folds, your nervousness making you clench your knees together but they held them apart easily. Slipping against your clit, you groaned, your stomach tightening as you stood. Pressing further, they probed against your entrance, tiny little tips tangling with each other to slip inside of you, your warmth contrasting with their chill. You whined, eyes slipping shut as the tentacles pressed further in, stretching you as they squirmed and whipped. You felt incredibly full, your clit throbbing against the intrusion as a single tentacle flicked against the hardened nub. 

Slender grunted, his eyes darker as he relished in the way you squirmed, your tiny noises making him strain against his slacks. “Go on, no one can hear you. Be as loud as you please.” You gasped, the tentacles in your cunt tangling together and pressing deep, stretching you wide. They began to pump inside of you, pulling out before pressing in quickly, your mouth falling open. Every inch of your body was covered in the cool slick of the tentacles, every inch sensitive as they glided along you. You felt a tug along your waist, the tentacles securing around you as they began to pull up, lifting your feet off the ground. You panicked slightly, the loss of stability unnerving as you were lifted to meet Slender’s face, your body angled back so he got a clear view of your cunt full of him. You whined, your face flushed and breathy as they trusted quickly, your slick coating the dark limbs beautifully. You found it terrifying how no expression or signs of interest flashed on Slender’s face, only the heavy breathing in his chest telling you how excited he was. Curling, you moaned loudly, throat straining as the tentacles pressed against your warm walls, squelching loudly through the quiet woods. 

You couldn’t speak, the air in your lungs restrained as the tentacles gripped your throat, choking you. Some more moved up, pressing against your cheeks and against your lips, nudging their way inside. The tentacles tasted grimy, unlike anything as they slid around your tongue, filling your mouth full of him. You choked, the tips curiously pressing down your throat, quickly following the pace of the tentacles in your throat as they began to thrust down your mouth. It didn’t help when you felt a single tentacle slide across your asshole, forcing its way inside and stretching uncomfortably. You were gasping and gagging, every inch of you overtaken by these slimy things as they pressed against every inch and the entrance of your skin. That’s when you began to hear Slender’s ragged breathing, his chest heaving against his suit as he watched closely, entranced by the whole scene. He felt every slide and movement of the tentacles, relished in every vibration and constriction that your body gave him. He pushed you, seeing what made that beautiful voice stir or what made you flinch. He loved every answer he got. 

Your senses were skewed. You forgot what direction you were facing or how high you were off the ground, everything becoming a blur as your body dissolved under his touch. Pleasure was racking your body, your resolve leaving you as Slender’s tentacles broke and pulled at every restraint you tried to use. No matter how hard you wanted to resist, these tentacles were quick to force embarrassing noises from your lips, pressing on all the right places. Squirming, the tentacles slicked against your cunt, pounding up into you at an inhumane pace. You couldn’t concentrate, every inch of your body was violated at his will. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your cunt throbbing against the thick tentacles inside of you as you felt your orgasm crash down. You gasped loudly, mouth full of slimy limbs as you came roughly, walls constricting around him. Your body thrashed, fighting against the restraint as you rode out your high, chest heaving. Your head was light when the tentacles slipped from your sensitive cunt, replacing themselves around your thighs as you were hoisted up higher, your brain too hazy to care. 

Your body was angled upright, legs spread wide apart as your clit throbbed, aching from the intensity. Your heavy eyes watched as you were lifted to Slender’s face, your cunt open and raw inches from him. You whined, squirming as the tentacles slipped from your mouth, gasping. The tentacles retreated to your limbs, holding you firmly as Slender’s claws left behind him and reached up, wrapping firmly around your hips, pinching the plush skin. “You have such a pretty face when you cum. I would love to see it again.” He growled, pulling you close to his face. You were confused, wondering what he meant until you heard this sharp tearing sound loud enough to echo through the trees. You tensed, watching fearfully as Slender’s face split where his mouth should have been. It was terrifying. His mock mouth split wide, jagged pieces of skin splitting to reveal a dark interior, his mouth pitch black. Emerging from the dark, a tongue, similar to the shape of one of the tentacles, slipped through the jagged skin, pressing close to your cunt. You squirmed instantly, unsure if you wanted this to happen.

You didn’t have much of a choice as he ran his large, thick tongue through your folds, a groan echoing through him. His tongue was long, black, and inhumane. It pressed through your entrance, the warmth a nice contrast to the coolness of his tentacles that still slid against your skin. His claws gripped tight, holding your cunt flush against his mouth as he slowly lapped you up. He moaned at the taste, pressing against your velvety walls until he heard those wonderful gasps again. “Delicious.” He grumbled against your cunt, tongue curling and filling you as he relished the sweet taste of your orgasm. It was all too much, your body squirming against the sensitivity until you were gasping for air. He was so skilful with his tongue, lapping at every inch of your inside until you felt your orgasm rocking you again, your eyes rolling as you cried your pleasure. It was all too fast, his touch too addicting as you stared at his blank face, pleasure struck across his knitted brows. 

“God… Fucking human.” The words sounded so vulgar following how polite he’s been. It caught you off guard. But you had little time to think as his tentacles were tugging you down quickly, laying you flat as they positioned your legs to spread around his hips, hips straining as the tentacles pulled. You whined, watching carefully as Slender unzipped his slacks and freed the bulge that had been haunting you from the moment you saw it. To say it was huge was probably an understatement. The thick length was easily larger than your forearm, not even two hands would be enough to hold the thing. You began to struggle against the tentacles, panic overtaking you as his cock twitched with excitement. “There's no way in hell that thing’s fitting inside of me! It’ll rip me in half!” You squealed, feet planted against his legs to hold yourself away from him.

Slender’s claws wrapped around your thighs, scraping the skin lightly as he tugged you towards him, his cockhead laying against your cunt. You cringed, fear riding up your spine. “I’ve never gotten this far with the others. Their voices and bodies were too annoying. But you intrigue me, little one. I’ll make it fit.” 

You tried to close your legs, but Slender was already wrapping his claws around your hips, his claws easily overlapping as he nudged his hips between your legs and held you open for him. You were breathing fast, heart pounding as you watched the head of his cock line up with your entrance, the head alone the size of your entrance. He dug his claws in, pinching your skin as he began to press against you, nudging his cock into you. The stretch was rattling, the sharp sting making you cry out as the head of his cock barely pressed inside, your entrance begging for relief. Your hands reached down, gripping his claws tightly as tears spilt down your cheeks, your babbles echoing loudly. The tentacles slid across your skin soothingly, pinching at your nipples and rubbing at your cheeks the further he tried to press. “Ple- Please- Oh, God, please-” You cried, your stomach tightening as his head popped past your tight entrance, your walls constricting against the intrusion, “Breathe, little one. You’re doing wonderfully.” He groaned, hips stuttering lightly as he nudged his head in and out of you. You were whining, breath catching every time he pushed back into you.

He couldn’t go further than the tip, but Slender didn’t seem to mind as he shallowly fucked you onto his cockhead. You were whining, back arched and hips grinding as the sting and stretch of his head slowly turned to painful pleasure. The nudge of his cockhead against your walls made you moan loudly, tentacles sliding down to tug at your clit as he fucked you onto him. You could tell he wanted more, his slimy tongue hanging from his mock mouth and lolling with every thrust. His desperation showed as he breathed heavily, gasps ragged as he held himself back. Even though your mind screamed that you couldn’t handle any more, you gasped, gripping your hands against his thin forearms. “Deeper…” You whined, staring up at him through heavy eyes and flushed cheeks, jaw slack. 

Slender’s body lit up, his claws gripping tighter as he groaned, brows knitting. He was reluctant, his movements nervous until his desperation overtook him, his shoulders crouching low to press his face close to yours. “Hold on tight, little one.” He hissed, your hands slinking around the back of his pale head as you gripped the collar of his suit. He breathed your scent in deep, tongue pressing from his mouth to slink against your neck, relishing in the taste of your sweat. You groaned as the tongue pressed against your cheeks, sliding across your lips before pressing inside. You sucked on his tongue, the long warmth pressing against your throat as Slender began to press your hips down further. It felt like you were tearing, the incredible sting making your eyes clamp shut, Slender’s tongue quick to distract you. His tentacles moved rapidly across your skin, pinching and pulling against every available sensitive service to help relax you. Slender’s cock pressed barely deeper, not even halfway inside of you, but it was all you could take.

You clawed at his shoulders as tears spilt to your cheeks, the fullness obstructing your breathing. Slender was moaning deeply, his ominous voice ringing across the trees as he began to thrust your body down onto his cock. You were both sporadic, hands and tentacles gripping onto every available surface as you stretched impossibly wide. You couldn’t believe the feeling, both painful, but so wonderfully pleasurable. You were so sensitive, so overwhelmed, but oh so full. It was nothing like you had ever experienced.

Slender was holding you tight, pressing your hips down roughly and pulling up quickly, just to nudge you down again. He was careful to read every signal your body gave. Every hiss of pain or sigh of pleasure, he was sure to adjust for you. “Sir- So full-” You groaned against his mouth, tongue slipping to glide against your neck. He groaned deeply, teeth gritted and brows knitted. “So good, little one. So good.” His tentacles flicked against your clit, tugging until you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You couldn’t breathe as you felt your orgasm rush over you, hips jerking down against his cock until you were too tight to move. Slender still tried to thrust you down, but your walls constricted and kept him in place. You cried out, clawing against the back of his neck as he slammed his mouth back against yours, tongue invading your throat before you could catch your breath. Slender was quick to follow, warm seed shooting up inside of you in thick stripes as he groaned. His claws dug in deep, blood pooling around his pale skin until it was dripping down your legs. His tentacles lapped it up, pressing the thick liquid across your skin. 

When Slender’s heaving chest finally settled, he took a deep breath, slipping his claws under your arms. “Hold still, little one.” He hissed, pulling you off his cock slowly as you whined, the sharp sting stretching your sensitive cunt. You couldn’t focus when he finally popped out of you, thick black liquid leaking from your ruined hole. His cum was hot, a thick black liquid that bubbled and gooped against your folds. You whined, emptiness making your cunt throb as your head pounded. Slender sat on the forest floor, laying down on his back as he pulled you with him, laying you down on his chest as you both settled. Your limbs were weak, eyes heavy with exhaustion as Slender’s tentacles ran soothingly across your back. 

When you finally caught your breath, you braced your hands on his chest, leaning up to stare him in the face. His pale skin had fixed itself, with no sign of the mock mouth that tore across his flesh. The blank slate was all that was left. “I release you… Of your duties. There’s no need for you to come here anymore.” You sighed, resting your head against your hands. Slender reached forward, tangling his claws with your matted hair, sliding his fingers through the long strands. “But what if I want to come here? More often than just once a decade, that is.” He huffed, sliding his claws against your cheek. You sat stunned, glancing at his expression and searching for any tricks. “But why..?” 

“I guess now I’ve found a more enticing reason.” He grinned, pinching your cheek. He blushed, turning away. You traced along his chest, the fabric of his suit soft under your touch. “You’re still released from protecting us. No need to give you more work than necessary. I suppose you won’t be requiring the ritual anymore?” You smiled, resting your chin against your hand. Slender chuckled, rubbing up your sides. “Only if you would like to reminisce, little one…” He growled, holding you tight.

In reality, you never imagined the monster that haunted your family to become humane to you. You also never expected to meet with him weekly, in the same clearing, exploring each other and relieving the urges only the two of you could satisfy. 

Maybe it was a slap in the face to your kin, but as Slender held you close for another week, all you could think of was him. 

He may have been a curse, but he was yours to bear.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[fr3sh-tragedies]

Jinx Masterlist

Obsessed (1.9k) You're the only one who managed to catch her eye, and she would do anything to make sure you know that.

Scarred (1.9k) Losing sight of you was bad enough, but her mind turns fatal when she finds you nearly lifeless on the ground.

Mistake (1.8k) Arguments with her are common, though it's clear that one in particular has sent you over the edge when you don't return to her.

Good Luck Charm (3.09k) Jinx has been told she's a mistake and a... well, a jinx her whole life, which is why it's such a surprise when you tell her she's your good luck charm.

Struggle (3.05k) "You're like my rock, and I want to be that for you, too, even if I don't exactly know how to do it."

WIP- Grudge (?k) She can still remember when you'd tell her you loved her before bed each night. Now, as she lays alone in bed, she can only hear those words through memory.

WIP - Near You (?k) Simple acts of service ultimately become Jinx's best excuse to be as close to you as possible, and she's thrilled when you return the favor.

WIP - Teach You You're Mine (?k) Jinx always has her ways to get what she wants, and you so happen to be one of them. She intends to make sure you see that you belong to her.

WIP - Tomorrow (?k) Jinx never looked forward to tomorrow until she met you.

WIP - Keep You Close (?k) Her mind often makes it hard to fall asleep, but it's hard to get her to let go of you once she finally does.

Modern Headcanons (3.11k) General and romantic headcanons for Modern! Jinx with a female S/O.

WIP - Irrational (?k) Isolation can cause one to be emotionally irrational when they find someone who will stick by their side, and meeting you has caused Jinx's rationality to falter.

Female Singer S/O (1.17k) Headcanons for Jinx with a female singer S/O.

WIP - The Path Lined with Red (?k) "Follow the path lined with red to find me."

WIP - Laid Down (?k) "It's a dream, but I can't wake up, and I don't remember when I ever laid down."

[Animated dividers by: grungenglam]

[tainbocuailnge]

I think there is a difference between the comic as a sequence of images with text and the comic as a comic. it's a subtle difference that an untrained eye might not see but the more one as artist draws comics the clearer this difference becomes, because one who first aspires to draw comics will soon find they are merely drawing sequences of images with text.

when people say an artist is clearly inspired by anime they often use "anime" to refer to japanese pop culture in general, but if you look more closely you can often tell it really is specifically anime rather than manga that inspired them, because the paneling and camera angles in their comics will read like a series of anime screenshots rather than a manga page. similarly, when I was a teenager really popular manga that had anime adaptions would sometimes get "animanga" reprints where they replaced the panels with the equivalent anime screenshots of the scene, and they often looked like dogshit because the very premise showed blatant disregard for why the original comic worked in the first place. these two examples are both about anime because i am a weeb but it applies outside that context too. a cartoon storyboard can be read as if it were a comic, but what it really is is a sequence of images with text that has yet to be refined into its actual intended format.

there are many artists who only employ the medium of comic because what they actually want to draw is a video, or a video game cutscene, but the only tool actually at their disposal is the ability to draw a series of images and add text to them so that is what they use. there is no shame or mistake in doing this, you have to make your art with the tools that you have available, and if the sequence of images with text is enough to convey the idea then it was the right tool for the job. but these are different mediums with different visual languages, languages which have a lot of overlap and can occasionally be used in each other's stead to achieve similar results (especially when drawing a fanart comic of a video game for example), but which are still ultimately different. the comic and the video and the cutscene are all different forms that a sequence of images with text can take but they are far from completely interchangeable.

there is a key difference in approach to the comic as a series of images roughly interchangeable with other forms of series of images like the video and the cutscene, and the comic as specifically the comic. this difference in approach is not always necessary to achieve results, an artist who wants to convey a scenario they came up with needs only the sequence of images with text to achieve this. but the difference between a comic with good writing and art, and a comic that is a good comic, is in whether it was treated as a comic rather than a sequence of images with text. I say this as an artist whose nearly every comic has been simply a sequence of images, because I just don't have the patience to refine it into a comic when I merely want to convey my idea rather than draw a comic. it takes a particular skill and insight that have to be developed and practised separately from the ability to draw well and the ability to write well in order to become good at making "the comic" as synthesis of the two.

it's hard to specifically point out the essence of this difference between the sequence of images and the comic because it's kind of a vibes thing honestly, and it depends on where and how the comic was meant to be published too. comics meant to have paper print editions have different constraints and requirements and frameworks to work with than webtoons meant to be read on slim mobile screens in a continuous scrolling format. a good traditional comic will consider not just how each individual panel looks but also the way each page as a whole looks, and how the pages look next to each other in a spread, and how it feels to turn the page towards the next spread. a good webtoon will consider the movement of scrolling down and how this affects the transition from one moment to another in its composition. time is time in videos and cutscenes but space is time in comics, and the space your have available determines how you can divide time across it. when you make a webcomic on your own website you have no constraints but the ones you set for yourself, and sometimes this leads to things like homestuck, which would not work in any other format than the one it created for itself.

the best comics are good because they tell their story and present their images specifically in the form of a comic, in a way that would not be possible if it were not specifically a comic. I think this is true for basically every medium, I'm just thinking about comics specifically lately, because even though I don't really consider myself a comic artist - because I usually draw sequences of images rather than comics - the thing my clients want to pay for is often still "a comic", and they don't know or care to tell the difference. it's a difference that, as established, is often fairly moot anyway, because as long as it successfully conveys your idea it's good enough. but it's precisely because the sequence of images is often good enough that the specific skill of the comic artist is often overlooked.

[pileofboneswrites]

PRETTY BOY_headcanons.strangerthings

general eddie munson headcanons.

SUMMARY — some of my eddie headcanons :)

MASTERLIST | NEXT

eddie is adhd personified

will start 16 tasks then realize he didn't finish the first one so he will go back and then turn around and do the same thing until he's finished them all

will make himself something to eat or drink, and then go back to the livingroom/his room and get hungry/thirsty only to find thr drink or snack waiting for him because he forgot it the first time

puts things down and then 'loses' them constantly!! it's literally in front of your face pretty boy!!!

obsessed with music, and absolutely hates silence

he literally cannot function if there's silence

cleaning the kitchen? he's blasting metallica. in the shower? black sabbath on full volume and you better believe he's doing every (air) guitar solo, and singing along the whole time. getting ready for bed/falling alseep? his favourite dio album is turned down low enough it won't bother wayne, but it's playing until he either passes out and it clicks off, or he's putting on another album

isn't a music genre snob but in the same breath will tell you he'd rather die than listen to country music

despite his stance on country music, loves willy nelson and johnny cash (because who doesn't???)

loves animals and would kill if he caught someone abusing them

cries watching kitty/puppy videos, because they're so damn innocent and too good for humanity and this world

he physically cannot watch those ads about abused animals, will turn the tv off or leave the room (will still get misty eyed just thinking about the poor babies)

will steal animals he sees being mistreated, and will either beg wayne to let him keep them or rehome them to somewhere they'll be loved and properly cared for (he goes and visits them periodically too)

super flirty with people, especially if you're on the shyer side, or are an old lady

if he notices you're shy/insecure he'll lay it on thick (loves seeing people blush/get flustered)

loves old ladies, like grandma's, always tells them they don't look old enough to have children let alone grandchildren or gasp, great grandchildren

gets easily flustered when people flirt with him

he's a natural flirt, unless someone flirts first/or flirts back – then his brain short circuits and he's completely thrown off his game

very gentlemanly

holds open doors for everyone, doesn't matter if you're a man, woman, etc, also doesn't matter how far from the door you are, he will hold it if he sees you coming in his direction — respects wait staff, janitors, etc (always leaves a good tip because people suck, and wait staff deserve to be treated well and tipping is essential!!!)

is a good cook/terrible baker

loves to try new recipes, loves experimenting with his cooking, wayne taught him the basics and then eddie started cooking super all the time for them, making sure wayne was well fed

also can make delicious food out of things you would never expect!!

do not try the cookies/muffins/cupcakes/etc. just don't he doesn't realize that baking soda and baking powder are different things!!!! he will make you the saltiest baked goods you've ever tried!!!

looks like a black cat is infact a golden retriever

he is a silly, goofy, happy boy!! he likes meeting new people, making new friends, (also thinks hes a lap dog)

has zero spatial awareness

he flings his hands/arms around like there's no one else on the planet often results in accidentally hitting someone or almost hitting someone

walks into things in his eyeline that he can see are coming closer, or tries to dodge things when they get close enough instead of just moving over half an inch

bumps his head, stubs his toes a lot, trips or almost trips like once an hour

will bump into your if you're walking beside him, he has a bad habit of nearly shoving people into walls because of how close he gets

apologizes to inanimate objects that he bumps into on the regular

taught himself to play the guitar, drums and piano

when he was a kid his grandparents had a little standing piano in their living room and he'd mess around with it, and then he heard a song on the radio he really liked that had a piano in it so he sat down and over christmas break he taught himself how to play the song, and then how to play some more songs — he only ever seeks out a piano when he's sad now

wayne got him a kid sized drum set for christmas one year, and he played with it until it ultimately broke apart — he taught gareth to play drums

his love of playing guitar came from his father, who before and abandoning eddie taught him a couple chords, and gave him his first guitar — it was an acoustic but it was the only good gift his father ever gave him

cannot stay still

fidgets with his rings, taps his foot, clicks pens (until everyone around his is annoyed), picks at peeling paint, stickers, etc, doodles on himself constantly

has hearing loss from how loud he plays his music + not wearing ear protection at band practices

its mostly because of how loud he cranks his music in the van, never realizes how bad it is until he gets in in the morning for work/school and nearly deafens himself but also scares himself so bad that sometimes he dumps his coffee all over the place

has a terrible memory

writes lists/important 'to do's' on the top of his hand/wrist because he always forgets something, he always has something written down — and despite this still forgets

reuses jokes that aren't that funny but will die laughing upon every delivery

walks into hell fire weaing the same shirt as every friday session and will say "oh that's embarrassing, we've all worn the same thing" ((also not my head canon but it's so funny and i can't stop thinking about it so i had to add it))

is always reading something

be it a horror novel, a dnd manual, something someone recommended to him, he always has a book on/with him

loves thunderstorms and rain

he finds it calming, the rhythmic beating of the rain hitting the metal of the trailer roof, a kind of music in its own right

he likes to sit in the doorway and watch as it pours down, just sitting there, feeling the mist of cool water that sprays up

under absolutely no circumstances does he fuck with porcelain dolls

their eyes are creepy and they follow you, 'nough said

loves halloween more than any other holiday

dresses up every year with zero regard for what anyone thinks, loves to scare kids, always has the most elaborate set up so that he can sit out in the yard and watch/be apart of the scaring

is a lover

doesn't really have many preferences for a partner, isn't really set on a specific gender, body type, age, etc

i'm of the belief that eddie would love you for loving him

terrible at fighting

he prefers not to fight, which is why he wears rings, so if he has to at least that might get them to back off

so good at gift giving

he remembers that one thing you mentioned that one time like nine years ago and anytime he sees something that reminds him of you he gets it

prefers to make gifts for people, and always gets them something they love/need

[bottledkriegmen]

ZERO DAY HEADCANONS!! >O<

xoxo @calcyum helped me write some of these go look at his art its so yummy!! literally the loml MWAH

☆ Cal tells white little harmless lies like, all the time. He doesn't mean to, it just happens

⋆ Example, he says he doesn't like ice cream but he can and will absolutely destroy an entire tub of chocolate icecream in a heartbeat

☆ Andre burned the shirt he got called a faggot in the bonfire before Zero Day.

☆ Cal's half Russian, his bio dad lives in the European half of Russia.

☆ They both call Mel, "Mel Bell" or "Melanie Bellanie"

☆ Andre played softball when he was little.

⋆ He quit because he got hit really hard in the head by a bat.

☆ Cal's a total metalhead. He has a ton of diff band tee's, but he's never gone to a concert.

☆ Andre has especially sharp canines!! (Feeding into Dogdre propaganda/j)

☆ Cal is a chronic doodler. If he and Andre are sitting next to eachother and Cal has a pen or sharpie in his grasp, Andres getting a whole SLEEVE of silly little doodles all over his arm.

⋆ he's also a stick n poke master, he's got little tatoos littering his ankles.

☆ Andre is a left handed shooter, right handed writer..... Cal is the opposite.

☆ Andre is a polyglot!! He forgets words in English and has to try to convey what he's trying to say to Cal in literally any other language he can think of. (Never works.)

⋆ This makes him so unbelievably mad.

☆ Cal watched Duckman growing up.

⋆ He introduced it to his siblings and they used to all watch it together!! TRUST!!

☆ Andre watched M*A*S*H growing up...

☆ Cal knows how to play a few diff instruments, other than a guitar and sitar.

⋆ Violin, piano, trumpet, all that good stuff.

☆ There's definitely a few holes in the basement walls of Andre’s house. He'll swear it wasn't him. (It was.)

☆ Cal is very awkward with love in general. He'd be an... okay boyfriend, but he would NOT pay enough attention to his partner because he'd be too busy hanging out with Andre.

☆ Andre 100% grew up on older fashioned values with new fashioned eyes iykwim. He'd treat his partner with the utmost respect, but he'd also have the same problem as Cal. He wouldn't pay much attention to them.

☆ (A personal fave) Cal and Andre have matching dog tags!

⋆ Before their final scene in Zero Day, Cal and Andre decided to switch dog tags with eachother. (fags..)

☆ Andre got a little teddy bear as a birthday present when he was itty bitty, and kept it. He's wayy to embarrassed to show anybody.

⋆ Cal found it one day and Andre nearly lost his shit.

☆ Cal often meows or hums in response when talking to Rachel or Andre when he doesn't feel like actually speaking.

☆ Stealing this from another post (I can't find creds rn i am SO sorry), Cal's siblings absolutely love Andre. He's like their other older brother.

⋆ Andre loves them just the same, he's such a good big brother. :(

☆ Cal's sister paints both Cal's and Andre’s nails, and makes them attend her tea parties with her stuffed animals.

☆ Mel follows Andre around the house wherever he goes. There's literally not a second when she's not behind him.

⋆ She gets jealous of Cal whenever he's too close to Andre.

☆ Andre and Cal share a bed everytime they spend the night with eachother.

⋆ They totally spoon but like hell they'd ever admit that.

these were so fun to write guys ty again ml MWAUGHH

[zoobiefish]

So, I nearly missed out on Auctober again, whoops! I am now 9 days behind, woohoo 😂😅 I’m an Autistic university student, so I may not always have the spoons to commit to this daily challenge, or at the very least I may not be able to draw something for each prompt…I may have to just write a little blurb about what that day’s prompt means to me lol But ideally I would like to contribute as many pieces of art to this challenge as I can! For now though, to catch up on all I’ve missed, I’m going to make individual short blurbs for the prompts I’ve missed thus far:

Day 1: Autism Plus

For myself, in addition to being Autistic, I’ve been diagnosed with ADHD, OCD, EDNOS, and generalized anxiety. I also suspect I may have hEDS (hypermobile Ehlers Danlos Syndrome). Fun stuff!

Day 2: Infinite

The most popular symbol for Autism Spectrum Disorder to my knowledge is a golden infinity ♾ symbol (sometimes I see a rainbow-coloured one in use as well, though my understanding is that the rainbow infinity symbol is used for neurodiversity as a whole). For a long time, the infamous puzzle piece 🧩 symbol was used to represent ASD—but most Autistics HATE this symbol!! I recognize that I don’t speak for all Autistic people, but this is the common opinion on the puzzle piece symbol and the one I share as well: The puzzle piece symbol is problematic because it suggests that Autistic people are inherently “missing a piece” or that we are “a puzzle to be solved.” Plus, this symbol is used by the evil corporation Autism Speaks. I would prefer not to go on a rant right now about why they’re evil; if anyone is curious, I would recommend doing research on why Autistic people HATE Autism Speaks. But the short version is that they support eugenicist policies around Autism and seek to eradicate us from existence. They treat us as non-humans under the guise of doing “charity work”—they are absolutely NOT a charity. Do NOT support Autism Speaks under any circumstances—any supporter of Autism Speaks (or as most of us spell it, “Autism $peaks”), is NO friend of mine!

Day 3: AuDHD

This is a fun little term I’ve seen in the Autism and ADHD communities! It’s a portmanteau of “Autism” and “ADHD” in case it wasn’t obvious heh! I myself do have AuDHD; it’s a very common comorbidity! It’s certainly…an interesting experience because the two often conflict with each other, as if I have 2 wolves fighting within my brain 🤪

Day 4: Music

Music is one of my favourite coping mechanisms. If I’m understimulated or need inspiration (especially for art or writing), I’ll put on some fun, energetic music to get the juices flowing and will dance and/or pace around the room to get the energy out of my system! If I’m overstimulated, relaxing videogame soundtracks are often my go-to—especially music from The Legend of Zelda, Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing etc. Another aspect of my being on the spectrum is that my thoughts are very vivid and visual. Often times when I hear music, I can’t help but see colours, shapes, images, and even stories with characters and whatnot going along to the music. It gives me great ideas for animatics and artwork! I love this fun little bonus feature in my brain haha 😛

Day 5: Verbose

This one is rather interesting for me. I find when I feel safe around a person or I have just TOO much energy to control myself, I WILL talk—and talk—and talk—etc. I feel so bad for those who fall victim to my “infodump sessions”—but just know that if I do that to you, it’s my way of showing affection. If I talk and never seem to shut up around you…I probably really like you (platonically) 😁 Other times however, I am dead silent. This is usually around people I’m uncertain of, don’t know well enough, or I may just be burntout/too tired to talk 😅

Day 6: Individuals

As the saying goes: If you’ve met ONE (1) Autistic person, then you’ve met ONE (1) Autistic person! We are NOT a hivemind, people!! Just because I’m not like your “friend’s cousin’s aunt’s 3-year-old stepson” doesn’t mean I’m “not Autistic.” The stereotype with Autism is a white cishet dude—but we are just as diverse a population as any other demographic. We all have our differences and similarities, but we are unified in our shared diagnosis—and that’s it!

Day 7: Neuroscope

Ah yes, the “superpower” Autistic people seem to have in which we can all “sense each other” 😂😂😂 I find this to be scarily accurate actually—the majority of the people I’ve become friends with at uni turned out to be Autistic, and long before they mentioned they were on the spectrum I was able to tell. The funniest part though is that they all the said same thing about me! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Day 8: Non-Speaking

So of course Autism is a spectrum, and among the ways in which Autistic people can differ from one another is whether we possess the ability to verbally speak or not. I do not want to talk in length about what being “non-speaking” means as I am not non-speaking myself and don’t wish to talk over those who are. What I do know though is that some of us are unable to verbally speak and may use alternative methods to communicate (whether through the use of sign language, AAC devices, or other means), which are equally valid methods of communication that deserve to be respected. Once again, I must iterate that I am fully capable of verbal speech and I am in no way non-speaking myself. That being said, sometimes I do have a reduced capacity to speak or feel it takes far more physical effort to speak when I am tired, stressed, overwhelmed, in sensory overload, or in the midst of a shutdown. This does NOT mean I am non-speaking—that label is exclusively for Autistic individuals who cannot verbally speak at all. I’m not sure what the proper terminology is for my specific situation (if anyone knows of it, I’d appreciate if you let me know in the comments!) but because of these situations, I am currently trying to learn ASL so I can still communicate in some way during these episodes.

And that’s it for now! I am hoping to have a drawing done by the end of today for Day 9, but we shall see! In the meantime, check out @autiebiographical on Tumblr! They are the one who started Auctober in the first place to my knowledge and they create amazing comics and other content that educates people on Autism Spectrum Disorder! Happy Auctober y’all!

[saintship]

okay just hear me out!! 13 but with tf141 wherein reader HATES physical touch like they’re completely repulsed by it but they know they can trust tf141, it’s just a matter of getting used to it and time. i’d imagine like it would be them slowly noticing it like if price pats reader on the shoulder for a job well done or if soap just surprise hugs reader from the back and in each scenario the reader freezes up 🤭 also it’s 1 am and i’ve been bingereading your work it’s so good 😭

Prompt #13 - "Take your time."

Thank you so much<3

I’ve struggled with touch aversion my whole life, and it can be upsetting at times so this is free therapy for me,

Hope you enjoy!

Reader & 141 - A little getting used to

Insert excuse to use this gif

The first time they learned of your aversion was at a loosely named ‘work party’, when Gaz had thrown back enough liquor to kill a small animal, Ghost had gathered a few empty pint glasses, and Price drank Soap under the table, literally, when he collapsed to the wooden floorboards of the bar.

You had quickly helped him to his feet and turned to return to your seat when he suddenly enveloped you in a drunken bear hug from behind you, nearly toppling the both of you over with his staggering balance.

You made a low noise of surprise before freezing in place, your hands held up awkwardly as Gaz hiccupped tears of laughter at the scene.

Soap had apologized profusely through the winces of his hangover the next morning, assured when you told him it wasn’t just him, it was touching. But when you were alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but recall how warm it felt, how he held you to him like you were something precious.

It wasn’t long after that night that the 141 had completed another operation, mingling conversation echoing throughout the hangar as they filed out of the jet. Your boots had just touched the concrete floor when you felt a Price’s gloved hand pat your shoulder twice, along with a gentle squeeze and a smile.

“Good work.”

Your rigid body made him retract, but you surprised him by laying your own hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks to the Captain..” You murmured with a nod.

What he took as a small gesture was an act that kept you up that night. It had always seemed like you would always hate touching in general; and you did, but it felt different when it was them.

Maybe it was because they never treated you like a child. Some thought your touch aversion was the result of something terrible, and wanted to talk to you like you were some kind of rescue. But on this team, in this job, they just didn’t care. And it felt good.

You and Ghost shared the same hesitance; he showed his love in different ways. Whether it be his humor, pulling you out of a tight situation in the field, or just staying up when neither of you could sleep because of the flashing images that played behind your eyes. So he was the one who surprised you the most.

The operation hadn’t been going well; there were more hidden explosives than they had prepared for, and the task force were clinging to the only truck that wasn’t shattered into a grotesque metal skeleton. The truck wasn’t meant to fit five bodies, and the uneven weight careened it into a small cluster of metal beams and half-walls that had collapsed from a singed building. The crash wasn’t overly harmful, Price hadn’t been going fast, but you were tossed into a pile of concrete rubble, disturbing a metal beam that fell on your upper arm, snapping the bone and pinning the limb underneath.

Your instinct to struggle only tore at the flesh and ligaments more, a white-hot clamp from your shoulder down. Your nerves spasmed and ricocheted, a fuzzy coating of needles trailing up from the smallest finger of your left hand.

You screamed in a way you likely never would again, your guttural cries of pain alerting Ghost. He knew what you sounded like when you were lacerated, or even shot; you would breathe through the groans, often treating it yourself despite his lecturing that would follow.

Now, there was no breath, no quiet murmurs of discomfort. There was only your screams. Not a high-pitched, piercing tone, but a cry, erupting from deep in your ribs, desperate and hollow.

Gaz was stuck as well, a chunk of concrete the size of a car toppled precariously near him and blocking any route of escape. Price and Soap ran to him while Ghost ran to you, an unspoken divvying of effort. Ghost knelt by you, his adrenaline momentarily halted by your grasping of his gloved hand.

“Please.. please help, please, please-"

You were sobbing from pain, but the beam was too heavy for Simon to lift on his own.

“You’re in shock, Sergeant. You need to keep breathing, you got that?” He spoke steadily, though his eyes darted from one part of your broken body to the next frantically.

“Hurts..”

You felt weak saying it. But that was all that was on your mind. The blinding, stabbing pain.

“I know..” Ghost seemed to murmur under his breath, as if the words escaped him involuntarily.

“Got him!” Soap’s voice rang clear as Price dragged Gaz free. Soap vaulted a pile of brick and cinder blocks, quickly assisting Ghost in lifting the beam off your broken arm. The absence of Ghost’s hand made your palm feel cold.

The pressure being released incited more pain. Your screams increased in severity before you were finally free, Soap discarding the beam roughly. You could see in his eyes he was out of his element. It was unlike you to scream or cry.

“We’ve got to set your arm, we’re too far from a hospital to leave it for later.” Ghost stated. You shook your head vehemently.

“No, no, no..”

“It’s alright, Sergeant..”

He sat behind you, holding your torso in his arms as your injured arm continued to swell.

“Look at the clouds. Don’t look at him.”

Soap had knelt beside you, preparing to set your joint. You obeyed, your eyes fixed on the hazy grey clouds that decorated the muted sky. The season being Autumn accompanied by the fact it was nearing sundown made the sky a gorgeous deep blue, stained with a grey overcoating.

“Just keep looking up..”

Soap set the joint in one fluid motion, and a choked cry escaped you, your flinching only held steady by the arms of a man you hardly even looked in the eye.

“Good.. good job..” Soap touched your knee gently, and any panic seemed to ebb, if only for a fleeting second. You could hear Price radioing for a medical evac through the pounding in your head. You would have slipped into the warm blanket of unconsciousness, had Ghost not been behind you. He had fully settled on the ground, at first to secure you, but now at will. For the first time in a long time, you felt arms around your middle and didn’t want to shrink away.

On the gurney, his gloved hand stayed on your shoulder.

In the helicopter, he held your body steady as the cabin shook during takeoff.

In the medical wing, his palm rested just at your ankle while you were treated.

Every so often, you glanced at his hand, the skeleton print of his gloves stained with grime and blood. And with the warmth of his palm, you figured the touch of someone else might not be as repulsive if it's someone like him.

[copperpipes]

PLEASE? TELL ME WHAT YOU DO IN SPECULATIVE BIOLOGY? THAT SOUNDS REALLY COOL???

WHERE DO I EVEN START???

Okay I know. Some general information about the subject first:

Its a genre.

Before speculative biology comes speculative evolution, a more known subject that is basically a whole genre of books, projects, and is more spread then speculative biology because it is less specific. You would find plenty of speculative evolution projects.

They are very similar in a lot of ways and I think the difference is that speculative evolution 'documents' the journey (the evolution) of a creature or a multitude of creatures throughout a time-line of events that may or my not effect its form, while speculative biology is more focused on a single time period or just one creature or maybe a made up culture or an entire planet at a certain point in said journey, and digs deep.

A good example would be birgworld by @iguanodont and alien whale documentary which I definitely recommend checking out if you like the subject and a couple I forgot the name of currently ':]

Whe i say digs deep, I mean it could be as vast as from the building bloks of DNA (like carbon and nitrogen for us) to the politics and cultural plays. Tradition, religion, culture, history, language, psychology, and of course, biology. From general physiology to the way they reproduce and raise their young if at all.

This genre is usually categorized as sci-fi (not in all cases, but then it would be seen less as speculative biology and more just world building, an example would be monstergarden on YouTube) even though its word building because most of the creatures 'documented' are made up aliens and the projects themselves are closely tied to science.

Everything has an explanation in speculative biology and it goes into detail.

Actually a couple of my personal projects are categorized as speculative biology since in them I put my imagination to use and explore alien creatures and their identity.

Being my autistic self everything is thought out to the miniscule detail of how my aliens farm their equivalent of potatoes to what is their social structure and the different things I listed prior. Consider it my special interest.

To this date, I have at least drawn a picture of 10 different intelligent alien species (not including animals or other life forms from same planets, not even different life stages that may be in one species) all seen in a single time period on their respective planets.

Speculative biology also often features in it the planet itself and the solar system it belongs to since one is heavily effected by the other.

I am planning on posting about my project soon enough since I'd like to document it digitally but for now its nearly 3 am so yeah

Thank you so much for the ask I've been wanting to blubber about my favorite subject for some time just didn't have the opportunity :]

This is merely a summary of what little knowledge I hold, I encourage you to look into it and maybe start one of your own.

Also if I didn't get the question right correct me please

[stellasolaris]

What does canon suggest about Riven and his background? I will share some of my thoughts about Riven's background and potential socioeconomic status in this post. As always, these are just my opinions. (If anyone's wondering: no, this is not the meta post that I was talking about in one of my other posts.)

I'll start by saying that my following thoughts are based on the RAI dub and the first four seasons (S1-4) as I don't consider anything past season four canon. However, I'm mainly going to focus on seasons one and two in this post.

As pointed out by many, the one-on-one scene between Sky and Riven in 2.08 is the closest we get to Riven directly confessing that he is (or has been at some point in his life) from lower-class origins.

Riven: Must be nice being a prince. You spend your whole life learning from the best.

I agree that this does give us some indication of his social class, mostly because this line fits with the rest of his characterization that's established in the earliest seasons, but even on its own, it does imply that Riven isn't nearly as privileged as Sky. He wouldn't make a comment specifically about Sky's access to highly qualified teachers if he didn't feel like he lacked them in some capacity. In other words, when we take into consideration his character as a whole, it's implied that Riven has not had as many resources growing up. This hints at him being from the lower class or relating to the struggles of someone from the lower class.

It's important to note here that this isn't the first instance Riven has expressed distaste or a mocking attitude toward privilege. It is also equally important to understand why he reacts so strongly to it. It's not that he hates or dislikes anyone who's above him in wealth or opportunity. I think he primarily has an issue with the injustice of being looked down on, of not being treated fairly, of not performing well enough. He's sensitive to people being ignorant of their privileges, which is why he often calls it out, but it's not necessarily out of resentment toward the person or their social class, but rather an indicator of his roots and how he feels about privilege in general. 2.21 is a good example of this, which I will get into later.

The reason Riven is so aggressive and abrasive in the first season has to do with a myriad of things, but it makes the most logical sense that he's likely had a bad childhood (aka trauma) and experienced being treated unfairly by either the system or people above his status. Riven wouldn't otherwise feel so strongly about privilege in season two or make patronizing remarks that are directly about one's social class in season one.

Sky (Brandon): What Riven means is that perhaps it would be best for you to go back to Alfea while we try to capture that animal. Riven: We don't need your editorial comments, Your Highness.

Brandon (Sky): Riven, you've gone too far! Riven: You're just Prince Sky's yes-man, Brandon. Why don't you go clean up his stables?

In season one, Riven likely projected a lot of his personal issues and insecurities on Brandon and Sky and their class dynamic as a whole—primarily his trust issues and feelings of inferiority—but after the infamous monster scene in 1.22, he goes through a ton of humbling and character development. He grows as a person and learns to trust and appreciate the boys, and most importantly, he starts to embrace himself. He also finally feels accepted by the group, which makes him want to clean up his act even more.

By the time we get to season two, Riven is relatively calmer and significantly lacking in condescension. The comments he continues to make about privilege are mostly a nod to his background and how he feels about unfair advantages. This is why we see a much more mature and open version of Riven in season two where he continues to make remarks about privilege on several occasions, but he's much more reasonable about it.

I want to thank @skylaryozora for mentioning the following scene in 2.21 because it ties in perfectly with what I've been explaining so far.

Riven: Well, I think it's high time you girls get a taste of what life's like where you don't have magic powers, and all you can count on are your wits and your muscles.

In this episode, Bloom says she finds it hard to get used to not having magic powers, which leads to Riven making the aforementioned comment. Similar to 2.08, he indirectly calls out the privilege (albeit a different kind) but doesn't make a big deal out of it. He's most likely talking from personal experience and having had to count on his "wits and muscles" as a kid. He isn't angry or insulting in this scene, but he does acutely notice the difference between himself and others when it comes to having unearned advantages or a better upbringing or better circumstances, and again, he wouldn't continue making these types of remarks if it wasn't deeply personal to him.

Riven's comments based on 2.08 and 2.21 alone suggest that he's had to work hard on his own to get to where he is. It's blatantly obvious he knows what a lack of privileges (and likely economic instability) feels like, probably more than anyone else because the writers make it a pattern to have Riven point out these things.

Let's talk about Riven's skills and what they mean for his character

I don't think it's a coincidence that Riven is good at creating lock picks from scratch . . .

. . . or that his stealth and wilderness survival skills are impeccable compared to others

. . . or that he's exceptionally resourceful and adaptable

. . . or that he's good at spying

These are generally not skills someone randomly picks up or excels in after a year or two of training. These are skills usually associated with people who've had to look after themselves, watch their backs, and protect themselves—people who are more likely to come from the lower class than the upper class. These "street smarts" skills might not hold a lot of weight on their own but together they form a bigger picture as to what Riven has possibly gone through to obtain these skills. (Yes, I'm sure they teach all these skills at Red Fountain, but what I'm getting at here is that Riven's expertise lies in these skills, and I think it was an intentional decision on the writers' part to showcase these particular skills.)

It's also important to consider Riven's fighting style in season one. It's not very polished. It's rushed. It's rough. It's very direct and brutal. He's not afraid to play dirty. Riven almost seems inexperienced compared to the other guys when it comes to technique and formal training, which suggests that Riven has likely been self-taught for the most part or lacks some private or selective education.

Incidentally, and this is more of a personal note, I think one of the primary reasons why Riven seems to always lose to Sky in one-on-one combat is because Sky has an edge over Riven when it comes to technique. But when it comes to other skills, like racing and wilderness survival instincts, Riven is better than Sky—the former being canon, as witnessed in 2.01. In spite of this, Riven feels a little insecure and bitter about not being as good as Sky. That lack of technique, coupled with a lack of opportunities, might be what he thinks is holding him back from being one of the best students in Red Fountain. The balcony scene in 2.04 is interesting in that regard because Riven appears to feel some type of way about the fact that Brandon and Sky were chosen to accompany the girls to a mission instead of him. He doesn't express it outright, per se, but you can tell by his tone and posture that he wishes he was included.

While the show deservedly gets a lot of criticism for its bad writing, season one is mostly decent in terms of character portrayals and has some of the best writing in the series. As I mentioned before, I think the writers were intentional with their decisions to paint Riven in a certain way, to have him say certain things, to give him certain skills that set him apart from the other characters, and in several ways, the narrative of his story gives us many details hinting at his background.

All in all, it's not strictly canon that Riven grew up financially lower class as we don't have any direct statements in the show about his background. However, I think there are more than enough allusions pointing to Riven having had to be independent and live in less-than-ideal circumstances with limited resources, so the idea of him having had a rough childhood (economically and otherwise) or being from the lower class at some point or another in his life is not unfounded. Personally, I think it's heavily implied.

[britcision]

Guys I dunno how to tell you this this is my favourite fucking chapter so far and before this one the last one was

I know it looks like we’re getting distracted and side tracked off on tangents but I’m having the time of my fucking life and more than half of my favourite bits weren’t in the plan

(We’re still on track and makin’ our way but oh boy the funniest things are all accidents)

AO3 link is as ever still on the first couple of chapters!

First:

Previous:

———————

That’s Not A Twink That’s An Anime Girl

They did eventually have to let Dick out of his snow drifts.

As a former circus acrobat, Dick had the best excuse of all of them to use his vigilante training in public; he’d wormed out of Jason’s grasp, flipped over Duke and made a run for it.

Unfortunately for him, gravity was actually literally optional for Danny, and Danny didn’t even have a superhero identity to protect in Gotham.

He could turn a lot more easily on the slick ice and snow to give chase, a little flight added when friction failed him. On his own, Danny would have probably had to actually fly to take Dick down.

Of course, odds of eight-to-one would weigh on any man. Not a single member of the group wasn’t thoroughly soaked by the hour’s end, sweat under clothes and snow clinging over them.

The journey up to Wayne Manor ended up being done in chunks as the sun began to sink and the cold set in for their more human friends.

Jason, Danny, Duke, and Tim had to go back to the mall to retrieve motorbikes.

(Technically Danny didn’t actually need to, but what he did need was an excuse to get Jason alone for a minute, and he’d put up with snickering from Sam and Tuck to do it.)

Steph, Cass, Damian, Sam, and Tucker called for a cab rather than pack themselves into Dick’s now snow filled car, and their numbers were excuse enough for Danny to slip away.

Which is when Tucker realised he could have probably hitched a ride on Tim’s bike, and spent the whole journey hugging Tim Drake-Wayne.

Buuuuut it’d also mean riding a motorcycle through slushy snow. The dilemma on his face made Danny grin all the way back to the mall, despite the damp now clinging to his clothes.

Sure, the car might reach the manor first and they’d get warm and dry, but that just meant Tucker’d miss out on more Tim Time.

The snowball fight had clearly done Tim good too, he was much more energised as they walked back to the mall, complaining to Danny and the others about Amity Park’s underhanded tactics.

Danny sure as fuck wasn’t going to apologise, but he did have a much more important question: how the fuck did Jason do that landshark-disappearing-into-snow bullshit?

Which… well, was also a chance to fuck with Tim and Duke.

“Seriously Jay, I can go intangible but that snow trick was bullshit,” Danny complained with a wicked glee in his heart, reflected in Jason’s grin.

Tim nearly tripped over his own feet. Duke caught him, his own eyes wide.

“You can what?!” Tim asked in a slightly strangled voice, and Danny gave him his most innocent smile.

“Oh, has Dick not told you? Yeah, it’s one of my things, from the generic end of the list,” he explained casually, turning his arm intangible and phasing it through Jason.

Who made a face.

“Okay but why does it feel like that left a residue?” The larger man complained, scrubbing at his shirt.

Which. Danny paused, frowning down at his hand. Stuck it through his own chest experimentally.

“Y’know, I didn’t know it did that… not like I go through myself often, but I can definitely feel it,” he agreed, sticking his tongue out as he wiggled his hand around, then drew it back.

Duke and Tim looked fascinated and nauseated respectively. Danny gave them both a cheerful shrug and kept walking.

“It’s probably my pit water,” he theorised, and Jason groaned loudly.

“Danny, did you just fucking mix our forbidden smoothies?” He complained loudly, and Duke damn near choked himself on a strangled laugh.

Danny fully had to stop and turn to stare at Jason, delighted awe on his face.

“Oh, I’m calling it that forever. That’s my new favourite thing. Skulker is going to shit his entire liver when he hears “forbidden smoothie”,” he decided gleefully.

Jason smirked and bumped shoulders as he passed, forcing the others to keep moving to keep up. Duke almost jogged to lean around Jason and give Danny a curious look.

“Who’s Skulker?” He asked innocently and Danny grinned at him.

“Oh, one of my rogues. He likes to talk a big game but he’s pretty easy to deal with. All bark, no bite,” Danny explained cheerfully.

Honestly he was a little surprised Skulker hadn’t shown up in Gotham to bother him yet. He must have been having a hard time finding a portal, because it’s not like he’d stop.

Tim and Duke did seem a little reassured by his casual dismissal, but still concerned. Jason cut them off before they could ask anything that might be useful.

Yeah, Jason was kinda Danny’s favourite.

“So how the fuck do I get your smoothie out of my jug?” He asked with an overly disgusted face. Danny fought not to laugh.

“You are so asking the wrong person dude, I didn’t know it happened until just now,” he pointed out and Jason rolled his eyes.

“I’m taking at least six showers when we get to the manor,” Jason grumbled melodramatically, and Danny laughed aloud.

Then paused.

“Wait, how many bathrooms are there? Can we all shower?” He asked Tim and Duke.

Neither of whom looked ready to admit they didn’t know what was going on. Fuck Jason knew his family well.

Duke shrugged, the mall finally coming into sight, and diverted towards the underground parking.

“Well, there’s enough for one each. And Alfred could do laundry for you so you can change right after if you take a long one,” he offered, glancing down at his own now damp clothes.

Best part of a snowball fight: changing back into something warm and dry.

Danny snickered, plucking at Jason’s oversized sweater.

“The way you assume I’m wearing a single thing that I actually own is adorable,” he told the younger man sincerely, grinning as his cheeks heated.

Sure, it was more subtle on dark skin than Danny’s light tan, but he’d been friends with Tucker since he could walk. He knew exactly what to look for.

Was not quite ready for it to be combined with a sly grin right back.

“What, nothing of yours?” He asked suggestively and Tim laughed, quickly catching on.

“Did Jason give you everything?” He asked teasingly, both younger Wayne wards now grinning at their older brother.

Jason’s little pink blush was definitely still Danny’s favourite. He grinned right back, refusing to follow them to a place that didn’t exist.

“Some of it’s probably yours,” he told Tim blithely, tugging at his sweatpants. Which, as predicted, immediately changed Tim’s expression to annoyance.

“Why is everyone wearing my pants today?” Tim grumbled, and Danny’s grin widened.

“They looked a little tight on Tucker if you wanted to help him take them off,” Danny teased and Tim levelled a dry stare at him.

“I do have a boyfriend,” he pointed out coolly, like that was gonna stop turnabout from being fair play.

“Ask him to come help then,” Jason cut in, ruffling Tim’s hair, “you know Connor’s always welcome for dinner.”

For a long moment Tim’s expression froze, clearly actually considering the suggestion. Then he shook his head, sighing and calling the elevator.

“Probably not today. What floor do you guys need?” He asked as the doors slid open, stepping inside.

Quiet day at the mall. Probably the fucking cold, combined with hangovers from the new year.

And as much as Danny was thirsting to ask about that, he also very much needed Jason alone before they got on the road. Hopefully they weren’t on the same level.

“Two,” Jason said, and Tim nodded, hit two and then four. Looked to Duke. Who grinned.

“Three. Sorry Tim, you’re taking the scenic route.”

And for once the universe worked in Danny’s favour. Something fucked would probably happen soon to compensate.

He and Jason left the elevator together, waited til the doors slid back shut, and then headed off towards the bike. Danny didn’t make him ask.

“She’s definitely liminal. Not like, bad? Honestly she wouldn’t even register back in Amity Park. Damian’s is a bit worse, but he’s younger, it happens. Ecto energy likes kids,” he explained when Jason made an inquisitive noise.

He definitely wasn’t bitter or anything. He’d been just young enough to take it in like a magnet.

His parents probably wouldn’t have survived the same accident.

“It’s kinda the only thing horror movies get right. Ectoplasm can form from emotional energy, and little kids, they feel everything that much more. Tapers off when you get older, so Damian’s still a magnet. Cass is stable.”

He kinda wished he had better news, but honestly? After a dunk in the kind of rancid ectoplasm Jason described, Danny was taking it as a win that neither of the others were haunted.

Jason nodded gruffly, pausing beside his bike to pull his helmet back on. Not that it’d stop Danny from reading his mood; his aura pulsed stress-stress-stress-worry like a beacon.

Danny stepped closer, resting a hand on Jason’s shoulder, stilling the movement.

“They’ll both almost definitely become ghosts if they die again,” he explained softly, voice low enough to pass unheard in the echoing space, “but they’ll be fine. Think of it like insurance; you’re never going to lose them.”

Jason snorted, the sound distorting strangely through the helmet, but didn’t pull away.

“Is that what you tell yourself about Sam and Tucker?” He asked, trying to sound derisive but there was a tinge of hope there now.

Danny gave him a gentle wave of sorry-sorry-comfort back.

“Yeah.”

**

Back in the elevator, Tim looked at Duke expectantly. Who sighed.

“I am not a fuckin’ pokedex, Tim,” he reminded the older boy with a roll of his eyes. Which his brother totally ignored, still waiting.

Tim could fucking stare like nobody’s business.

The elevator chimed again and Duke stepped out, not the least surprised when Tim followed.

“I dunno. I thought I almost caught something in the park, but it was just a blur. Tucker and Sam both have more of an aura than Danny, but Danny’s clearly something. I just dunno if it’s a meta gene,” he explained reluctantly, and Tim nodded, already adding the information to his wrist computer.

Which he wasn’t supposed to wear out of costume.

Duke wasn’t gonna tell; he’d be a damn hypocrite if he did, he wore his Signal boots with the bike half the time. They were just much more responsive than normal boots.

“What makes you say that?” Tim asked, still typing away. It’d save Duke from having to add it all to his report, so it kinda counted as a favour.

Duke shrugged, still trying to narrow down the feeling.

“Honestly? Most people with the same meta gene fuck up a little the first time they show off around me. It’s the x-metals; I boost them, whatever they’re doing goes too hard.” Tim’d been the one to help him work that out, but it would all go in the report.

Tim nodded, gesturing for him to continue and Duke sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Danny… didn’t. Unless that’s the residue they were both talking about, and if the fucking Lazarus Pits can cause intangibility we have got to warn Bruce. But that’s not the only thing,” he added quickly, before Tim could speak.

The older boy quieted obediently, but Duke could see he had his thinking face on. Putting pieces together, all those wheels turning as one.

That was practically a fuckin’ meta ability, and it wasn’t like Tim got a boost from him either. Maybe Duke needed to do some more experimenting.

“Most metas, even the nonhuman ones, have at least some aura. Some of them can hide it, but I can get a feel for their powers from it. Danny… I dunno. I can almost feel something, but I can’t see it.”

That was the thing that unsettled Duke the most, honestly. Almost all of his powers were purely light based; seeing what other people couldn’t. Even his shadow manipulation still worked around light.

It was fucking weird for there to be anything he couldn’t see, and he could go way beyond the visible spectrum. Whatever Danny emitted, it went beyond even that.

For a guy who could even see a little into the future, it was weird.

And since Danny had showed off flight, super strength, and intangibility already? And called them the generic end of the list?

Duke was definitely leaning on the “extreme control of his aura” side of the equation.

Tim looked concerned too, which was kind of validating. It kinda sucked being the expert on things no one else could understand, because Duke always worried he was overreacting, but if Tim tagged it too? Well that was validation.

“The only bit of good news is that we can probably rule out the pits as the source of his abilities,” Tim muttered as he scanned back through his notes so far.

“They coulda been trauma activated by his death in the same way as a meta gene,” Duke pointed out thoughtfully, leaning back against the wall.

It wasn’t like they were racing home, and until someone else came down the elevator? No rush. Tim had another floor to descend anyway.

Tim himself shrugged, adding another couple of notes to his file.

“It’s definitely possible, but even if it was a million-to-one chance, I can’t imagine Ra’s keeping quiet about something this useful, or letting someone like Danny run around if he had any idea he existed,” Tim explained, making a face.

And… yeah, no point trying to argue with Tim about Ra’s al Ghul. Duke pulled a face too and sighed.

“Well, he still seems pretty sure we’ll know all about it if we can get into Amity Park. Or when Jason decides to fucking tell us,” he added with a roll of his eyes.

Tim glanced up at him, smirking.

“You noticed too?” He asked innocently, and Duke snorted. Reading Jason’s micro-expressions might not be a survival skill exactly, but it was still a bat family hobby.

“He definitely fucking knows!” He complained, the switch from Professional Hero to Baby Brother getting easier and easier as time passed.

He still had his own parents, he didn’t need Bruce to adopt him, but he’d been an only child for most of his life. Having a new army of big brothers and sisters? Kinda ruled.

And he knew most of the others felt the same. They’d all be alone in their own ways, and the stubborn independent streaks were still there, but…

It was good to know someone had your back. That no matter what happened, how the adults in your life fucked you over, you could always go to Dick’s in Bludhaven.

Could always call Jason to bitch about whatever you needed off your chest, and yeah, there was always the worry that he really meant it when he said he’d “take care” of your problem? But he also listened when they said no.

Hell, it’d been Jason’s couch that Duke had crashed out on about a year ago, back when Jason was still damn near on the Big Bat’s no fly list.

He’d been on his way to school for the start of his winter semester when an absolutely blinding migraine took him to his knees. For whatever reason, Jason had been close.

Duke hadn’t even been able to glance at his phone to call for help; even opening his eyes a crack felt like he was being blinded. He’d barely recognised Jason’s voice asking if he was alright.

Hell, back then he hadn’t known if Jason recognised him out of costume. They’d always had a more friendly relationship than Jay did with the other bats, but this had been just after Jason finally texted Dick back.

Back when Red Hood would take a casual shot at any mask crossing into his turf. Not to hit, but a definite reminder of the border.

And Jason had lifted him bodily and carried him into Crime Alley. Put him on his couch to sleep it off in pitch darkness, and made him some of the best home made soup Duke had ever had.

Duke got why the older teens were still a little wary. He’d seen the Pit Rage live and in person, and it was fucking terrifying. It just wasn’t all Jason was.

And yeah, the family also had a whole army of fellow teens who’d know exactly what you were talking about, between Steph, Tim, Cass, and Duke himself. Even Damian, as much as he pretended not to care.

Kate and Babs were always willing to spread their wings out and give them all a place to shelter. And hell, if adult supervision was needed, they even had Harley, Ivy, or Selina.

Duke may not want to be a Wayne, but he’d take everything the bat family offered with both hands.

Tim sure as hell had not adjusted from being the baby to being third oldest though. He gave a huge heaving groan to match Duke’s own, flopping back against the wall.

“I know, right! And he knows we don’t know shit. He’s just enjoying watching us scramble cuz he knows we can’t just tell Danny we don’t know,” he grumbled, scrubbing both hands through his hair.

Duke hesitated.

“We… probably could just tell Danny,” he said slowly, brows furrowing. “It’s not like he doesn’t want us to know.”

Tim gave him a sidelong look.

“Yeah, after we admit we didn’t even manage to google him. Y’know, the kid who clocked Dick’s identity from his ass,” he added dryly.

Duke hesitated again, brows furrowing.

He knew that shouldn’t matter. Knew the smart move really was to ask for help sometimes. Knew damn well that it was Tim’s stubborn streak that kept him in the cave all night, while Tuck, Steph, and Cass watched movies upstairs.

Finally he let his head drop, sighing.

“The longer we wait the dumber we look if we have to ask later,” he warned Tim but his heart wasn’t in it.

It didn’t matter that Jason was probably the only member of the family with all the pieces; whoever caved and asked for help first? Yeah, social suicide.

Tim shook his head, pushing off the wall and scowling out into the rest of the garage.

“It’ll be fine. I’ll talk to Tucker about the Amity Park problem tonight and we’ll know by morning.”

Which… Duke hid a smile.

Asking Danny? Definitely cheating, worthy of scorn and derision.

Asking Tucker? Apparently completely different. Although technically he wouldn’t be asking Tucker for the same information.

Just admitting the exact same fault.

Pulling his keys from his pocket, Duke turned and wiggled them at Tim as he headed for his bike.

“Hey, if you hurry you could try to beat Danny and Jason to the manor. Get to Tucker first,” he added, grinning as Tim hit the call for the elevator.

The shorter boy rolled his eyes, waving a hand in Duke’s general direction.

“I’ll get to him once everyone’s warmed up. He wanted a look at my set up last night anyway,” he said almost off handedly.

Duke’s grin spread.

“Oh hey, that’s perfect! Just take him to your bedroom after you’ve both just been wet and naked and show each other your most private parts!” He called loudly, wondering if any of the supers were listening.

They’d find out soon.

Tim choked, blushing cherry red and spun to yell something after Duke just as the elevator doors opened. Duke waved cheerily back, turning away to head for his motorcycle.

“See you at the manor Timmy!”

**

Reconvening at Wayne Manor was… well, chaotic. Even more so than the gala the night before, though that might have been because this time, none of them had a firm plan.

Jason and Danny arrived first, greeting Alfred on the way in. The butler was not hugely impressed by the “foresight” which had led to a snowball fight when Danny was wearing an oversized sweater, sweatpants, and little else.

Any protestations that Danny was fine and was normally this cold anyway quavered under an archly raised brow and Danny privately swore never to let Clockwork meet Alfred.

They would get along far too well.

And that’s how Danny ended up actually using one of the spare bathrooms while Jason, who had worn a proper coat and thus escaped Alfred’s wrath, grabbed him a change of clothes.

The fact that this once again included one of Jason’s shirts, when Tim, Dick, Duke, and Steph all existed and also had spare clothes here, felt a little targeted.

It hung from Danny’s shoulders like a kid in his dad’s clothes, but Jason was probably also the only one with a shirt that said “Soup Powered Fuck Machine”, and the bit was fucking worth it.

Danny tied off most of the excess fabric into something just a bit longer than a crop top and settled in to drink hot chocolate with Jason and Duke and wait for the others to come back down.

(Which, by the way? Best hot chocolate he’d ever tasted. He was stealing the recipe 1000%, it was so rich and creamy and thick and had grated curls of chocolate on top of the whipped cream.)

Any lingering questions Duke might have been hiding about the shirt? Answered themselves when Tucker walked into the room, saw Danny, and laughed so hard he wound up in the fetal position.

Yeah, Jason was never getting this shirt back.

This was Danny’s shirt now. He was gonna wear it for his next fight with his rogues.

Sam actually did have her own clothes, so she’d accepted the offer of laundry while she showered (though she was a little annoyed the laundry room was so far from any of the bathrooms that she couldn’t do it herself), so she’d rejoined them in a mix of Steph and Cass’s clothes while she waited.

She had also been unable to keep a straight face upon seeing Danny’s new country girl fashion statement, rolling her eyes and punching his shoulder as she dropped to sit next to him.

“We call the thermos Soup Time,” she explained when Cass cocked her head curiously… which probably actually confused the rest of the bats a little more.

“The thermos you threw at Killer Croc?” Dick asked, still towelling his hair dry.

Sam raised a very slow eyebrow at him, her smile toning down to a smug smirk.

“Yeah, sure, I definitely threw it at Croc,” she agreed dryly and Dick cackled, throwing his towel down on Tucker’s still curled body.

Without even seeming to open the door Alfred appeared with another tray of hot chocolates, handing them out to those who hadn’t yet gotten one and taking back empty mugs.

He even had a second hot chocolate for Danny, who was going to marry the man. Even if he was old enough to be his grandpa.

Maybe Tucker did have a point about trying to get into the Wayne family for the perks… which Danny was never going to stop teasing him about, now that he and Tim were getting on so well. Boy could make his own ins, he didn’t need Danny.

Even Tucker roused himself for a mug though, crawling out from under Dick’s towel, glancing at Danny, and bursting out laughing again. Still, this time he could keep himself steady enough to stand, take the mug, and join Tim on another couch.

Alfred gave a quick glance around the room, probably counting heads, and cleared his throat.

The assorted vigilantes quieted immediately, and Danny’s respect for the old man grew just a little. It was already pretty fucking high. Not much more room to rise.

And somehow that perfectly serene, composed face managed to convey a deep sense of satisfaction.

“I am afraid we are presently waiting only on Master Bruce to begin dinner. If you would all proceed to the dining room?” It was phrased as a polite request.

The Wayne brood leapt to like it was an order. Danny pressed his lips shut on a laugh as he followed, catching Sam’s eye to see her grinning.

Up in front, Dick hurried to walk alongside Alfred.

“Oh, is Brucie not home? Or do you want me to go dig him up?” He asked brightly, and Alfred gave him a tight smile, pushing open the door to the fucking plainest most normal dining room Danny’d ever seen in a mansion.

Sure, the table was huge, but rather than being ornate, heavy, or flashy, it looked to be hard wearing oak. Clean, well polished, and not even that polish could hide the dents.

The chairs too were comfortable, nice, and a lot more tasteful than the Manson’s or Vlad’s. Well padded, well used, but not… fancy. Even the walls were simple, the elaborately framed portraits and art pieces on the wall replaced with…

What looked like kid’s drawings. Framed, cherished, and it clicked.

No chance in hell that this was the manor’s formal dining room.

The table was huge, but not that big with the number of people in the room. More than half of it was filled with just the kids, and sure there was space for the Amity Parkers, but not a larger group.

This was the family dining room. And that was fucking adorable.

Steph’d definitely walk him through every picture on the walls to help him find Jason’s. Today was going to be great.

He almost completely missed Alfred’s reply to Dick.

“I’m afraid not, master Dick. He was expected back nearly two hours ago, and yet…”

Even deep within the manor no one could have missed the sound of the front door slamming open, and anyone who did would have been alerted by the bellowing yell that followed.

“OOOOOOOH BRUCIE! I TOLD YA WHAT’D HAPPEN IF WE HAD TO HAVE THE BOUNDARY TALK AGAIN!” An extremely loud, very chipper given… well, everything voice filled the room.

The Gothamites’ heads all snapped around with expressions ranging from delight to exasperation.

“How the fuck did she get here so fast,” Duke hissed, leaning in towards Tim, but not far enough that Danny couldn’t hear, “weren’t she and Ivy in Brazil?”

Tim, definitely the exasperated one, gave a helpless shrug. Whatever he replied with was lost under Dick, bellowing back with clear glee in his voice.

“FAMILY DINING ROOM, HARLS! FIRST HALL ON YOUR LEFT!”

So, they were all going to meet Harley Quinn today. That’d be fun. Danny had always wondered what she was like in person, and apparently she was a close enough friend of the Waynes to be welcomed in.

Sam and Tucker’s faces would be fun.

Alfred’s was a perfect mask of patience that even Clockwork would envy, and he had already pulled a new place setting from a chest of drawers.

It didn’t take Harley long to find them, striding down the hall wearing some fucking unseasonal shorts, a baggy long sleeved sweater, and her trademarked blonde pigtails with the pink and blue tips.

And a bedazzled baseball bat slung casually over her shoulder, just in case anyone missed the mark.

She greeted Dick with a kiss on the cheek, then chased down as many of the others that hadn’t immediately fled to the other side of the table. Barring Damian, none of them seemed to mind.

Jason had made an attempt to flee, but no. No, that wasn’t happening, and Danny “accidentally” got in his way. Boxed him in between chair and table, grinning all the while until Harley made her way to them.

“And there he is! My poor suffering boy!” Harley cooed, cupping both of Jason’s cheeks in her hands and yanking his head down with a lot more force than a woman her size should have been capable of, pressing a large smooch on each cheek.

For all the glares he shot Danny, he managed an almost sheepish smile for the woman herself.

“I’m fine, Harley. Really. You didn’t need to come,” he protested with absolutely none of his heart in it, a pink flush rising to complement the sparkly pink lipgloss smooch marks.

“Nonsense, baby boy, if Brucie needs his head pulled from his ass I’m always here,” Harley told him firmly, patting his cheeks and rounding on Danny.

It was kinda less funny now that she was bearing down on him, all of her airhead dramatics belied by the piercing, analytical stare she pinned him with.

“Huh, did Brucie pick up a new one while we were gone? It’s been like a week, we’ll talk about his adoption issues too,” Harley declared firmly, snagging Danny by his collar and yanking him in for a cheek smooch too.

And yeah, holy shit, she really was a lot stronger than she looked. Like, almost ghostly levels of super strength.

Batman’s “no metas in Gotham” rule was looking flimsier and flimsier, cuz while she’d been a rogue in the past, this? This was not a rogue’s welcome, and Danny actually did like most of his rogues.

Just not “kisses on the cheek”, although the grabbing and pulling was familiar.

Still, better not let Vlad know. Wouldn’t do for him to feel too welcome in Gotham.

Harley released him a moment later to give him a dazzling smile.

“Hi, you’re a little older than most of Brucie’s new kids but that’s fine, I’m your Aunt Harley now and if you ever need any help with anything, especially getting Brucie’s ass in line, you just call me, okay doll?” She told him firmly.

Jason was fucking grinning at him over her head, and it just plain wasn’t fair that he was a whole head taller than them. Danny flipped him off behind her back, and gave the woman herself a sheepish smile.

“Actually, I’m not one of Bruce’s, I’m just-“

“Jason’s-boyfriend,” Steph stage coughed behind him.

Harley’s eyes widened, Danny had a go at kicking blindly behind him and hurried to correct her.

“Just Jason’s friend,” he stressed the word and suddenly those almost frighteningly piercing eyes were roaming across his face again.

It was like if Jazz had been dunked in a vat of glitter but could still see right through him. Then Harley grinned again and patted his cheek.

“Sure thing, sugar. Still, if you stick around long enough Brucie’ll make a go of it, so be careful,” she warned him cheerfully, then lunged for Steph, got her in a headlock, and smooched pink lipgloss into freshly washed hair.

Danny couldn’t help chuckling softly as Harley scanned the room, clocked a bemused Tucker and wide eyed Sam, and her eyes narrowed for a moment.

Then she nodded, apparently deciding they probably also weren’t new niece and nephew, and skipped back over to Alfred.

“So! Not that this ain’t great, but ya clearly got some company over so if ya could just point me towards the B-man I’ll borrow him right quick?” She offered with a broad grin, not actually grabbing Alfred.

Up went the respect-o-meter again. Restraining Harley Quinn was hard for seasoned heroes, her restraining herself? None of the birds could claim that apparently.

Alfred gave her the same polite smile, setting her a place at the table.

“I’m afraid Master Bruce has not yet returned from his lunch appointment, Miss Quinzel. He should be returning shortly if you would care to join us for dinner?” It almost didn’t seem like a question, given what he was doing.

Harley waved a hand easily, making a face that was almost apologetic.

“Oh, nah, I’ll just go get ‘im for ya and send ‘im back over. Maybe with some new bruises,” she added almost as an after thought, then shrugged and grinned. “So! Where’d ya last see ‘im?”

It seemed like their missing Brucie problem was about to be solved, and the rest of the Gothamites were now taking their seats around the table.

Tucker, who’d cautiously followed Tim’s retreat around the table after Harley’s chaotic entrance, was now sat between Tim and Damian, and probably regretting his life choices.

Sam, whose parents hadn’t actually specifically forbidden her from speaking to Harley, seemed to be trying to make up her mind about something. Probably going to talk to Harley directly.

Steph and Jason had considerately left two spots in between them as they sat, and Danny let himself drop into the chair next to Jason as Alfred answered.

Well. Nearly into the chair.

“Master Bruce’s lunch appointment was approximately four hours ago in a private room at Chez Vous with one of our gala’s guests, a Vlad Masters.”

Yeah. Danny missed the chair, thunking all the way to the floor with a startled squawk.

“He fucking WHAT?!” He exclaimed, yanking himself back up, staring around the table at the equally startled Waynes.

Like they hadn’t spent the first part of the gala telling these people specifically that Vlad was a fucking mind controlling sociopath who was targeting their dad. What the hell.

Alfred raised an eyebrow very slowly at him, concern now creeping into his expression.

“He went to met Mr Masters in a private room for a late lunch, Mister Fenton. I am not aware of any other plans, but-”

And Danny was probably committing a cardinal fucking sin by interrupting him but he couldn’t hold in the groan, sinking down into the actual chair this time and thunking his head off the table.

Across the table, Tucker snickered at him.

“Let me guess. You forgot Vlad was still in town?” He asked, and Danny let out another utterly heartfelt groan.

“I forgot Vlad was still in town,” he whined as Jason stifled an entirely inappropriate bout of laughter.

There was one more important piece of business though, and Steph jumped straight to it.

“Wasn’t someone supposed to warn Bruce about Masters last night, so this couldn’t happen?” She asked in a low voice, leaning into the middle of the table.

Tim made a face, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I said I would, but… I got distracted…”

By beating his brains out against Amity Park’s ghostly firewalls apparently, and Danny did feel kinda bad for completely forgetting to mention that. In his defence, he hadn’t technically known that the Batcomputer was not ghost virus proof.

Should have guessed. Hadn’t known.

Tucker, who still had no idea about the vigilante thing, was quick to reassure Tim.

“You had a medical emergency, of course you were distracted,” he said quickly, patting the younger man carefully on the shoulder and glaring at the other assembled Wayne brood, “and any of them coulda mentioned it too!”

Dick raised a hand with a half smile that was mostly apology.

“Actually… Bruce went straight to Tim’s side after the gala. Think he stayed all night, but I never actually saw him. We coulda texted though,” he added sheepishly as the rest of the family made general noises of agreement.

Except Duke, who shrugged.

“I only learned about Masters when I met you guys this morning,” he pointed out, and Danny kinda doubted that but Duke had missed the original Masters debrief so he had the best excuse.

Alfred stepped closer to the table, and for the first time his presence actually registered as something other than the polite, nigh-unnoticeable model of efficiency.

Which probably meant he’d picked up on Danny’s super subtle hints that the situation was not fucking good. Good for him.

“And precisely what information was supposed to be shared with Master Bruce?” He asked, still politely, still calmly, but there’s a hint of warning that had most of the table stiffening up.

Tucker answered, giving Alfred an apologetic smile.

“Vlad Masters is a super creep and probably using his mind control powers to try and make Mr Wayne sign over everything he owns,” he explained easily, like it was nothing.

Harley’s eyes had widened, but she didn’t seem overly worried, just shouldered her bat again.

“So it’s also gonna be a rescue mission, huh? Vladdie a local boy or are they still gonna be in the same place?” She asked, the rest of the table tensing as one.

Because yeah. Next step was extract Bruce, and kick Vlad’s ass, and probably maybe try and get any contracts Bruce had signed in four hours? Which could now be anywhere.

Sighing heavily, Danny hauled himself to his feet. Feeling like a fucking idiot aside, he probably should have already left. He was pretty sure he knew where Chez Vous was?

“No, you guys stay put, I’ll go get him,” he said as cheerily as he could, cracking his neck.

Harley’s brows drew down in a frown and she prodded him with the bat.

“No offence kid, but ya look like a stiff breeze will flip ya over. You’re not going alone,” she told him firmly, and yeah, Danny could also feel Jason damn near vibrating from beside him.

Concern-worry-protect-coming too.

Putting a hand on the big guy’s shoulder before he could rise, Danny pushed just enough to keep him in his seat. Felt the moment of shock course through the much bigger man, and his grin became just a little more genuine.

“Sorry but if any of you come along, you’ll only make it harder for me to get Bruce back safely. Vlad’ll just take you guys over and make you fight me. I really wouldn’t worry too much though, he’s never actually beaten me,” he added with a reassuring smile.

Sam snorted a laugh, dropping into the empty seat beside Steph and crossing one leg over the other. Reassuring the Gothamites with her own complete lack of moving.

“Yeah, Danny’s been cleaning his clock since he was fourteen and it’s something like 700-5. You’d think he’d give up eventually,” she added, rolling her eyes.

Cuz yeah, Vlad might have gotten the upper hand through sneaky traps a bunch of times, but in a straight fight? Danny usually won, even before he had the power of the Infinite Realms at his back.

It wasn’t that all eyes turned to Harley. It was more that suddenly a bunch of them weren’t looking at her so pointedly they might as well have.

She regarded Danny and Sam a moment longer, then shrugged and dropped into the chair at the head of the table.

“Guess I’m stayin’ for dinner, or at least til Brucie’s back. And hey, it can be hard for folks ta come to terms with things like that. ‘Specially if they’re adults takin’ offence ta gettin’ their butt kicked by kids,” she added, a bright gleam in her eye.

Sam snickered, leaning back in her chair.

“Voice of experience?” She asked innocently and Harley tipped her a wink.

“Hell nah, you ever seen a Robin fight? ‘Sides, most of the folks who’ll shit a brick at bein’ beat by a kid get just as huffy at gettin’ beat by me,” Harley explained with a broad grin, flexing her own muscles.

It was just a little hilarious to see the differing reactions from the young vigilantes around the table.

Damian was still noticeably grumpy, though he almost felt more worried to Danny’s expert empathic eye. But then, his dad was in the lion’s den.

Dick and Tim looked like they were sharing an inside joke, and Danny had to figure they were the other Robins that went against Harley the most.

Steph, Cass, and Duke all looked decidedly self satisfied. Jason…

Jason was ignoring the rest of the table, still frowning up at Danny but not fighting his grip anymore.

“I should still come with you,” he argued like the rest of the conversation hadn’t happened, his voice low and urgent. And… yeah. Protection Obsession, 1000%.

And his Fright Knight now, fuck you very much Clockwork, but he was also not even fully formed. No way Danny was taking him to fight Vlad as his first ghost.

He gave Jason’s shoulder a quick squeeze, lowering his voice under the rest of the conversation.

“You’ll know if I need you, Jay, but Vlad used to be able to control me too. He’s not a great first run,” he explained softly.

Jason very clearly didn’t like it, brows drawing in even further, and Danny made his grin a little brighter by contrast. Brushed confidence-easy fight-be back soon across his aura.

“Besides, he’s more a sneaky fuck than an actual fighter. Not worth both of us heading out,” he tried, rolling his shoulders.

Jason raised an eyebrow, entirely unimpressed.

“By that logic it should be me going instead of you,” he pointed out, and Danny pouted. Fuck him for technical accuracy.

“Look, next time, okay?” He whispered, leaning in til his mouth was next to Jason’s ear. Tim was now watching them rather than Sam and Harley’s banter.

Perceptive little shit. But he wouldn’t catch shit if Danny covered his mouth to talk. For now, he had to persuade a cranky protective halfa not to go kick Vlad’s ass.

How the turntables and so on.

“Once you’ve got your powers in you can take him every time, alright?” He whispered, then leaned back and grinned at Jason. At least he wasn’t glaring anymore.

“I’ve got this. I’ll be fine,” he said as reassuringly as he could. And then. Pausing. “Uh… but I’ll probably… y’know. Do the thing to find him.”

Vlad couldn’t hide from Danny’s expanded aura, not without leaving this dimension. But that’d mean Jason also got another dose.

The understanding dawned across the big guy’s face, fell into a complicated expression. Finally he nodded stiffly.

“Fine. But leave it up so I know how it’s going?” He grumbled back, lips barely moving. Probably as a countermeasure for Nosy Little Brother.

Danny grinned and ruffled Jason’s hair, stepping away.

“Sure thing bud. I’ll be back with Bruce as soon as I can,” he said more loudly, more to the whole room, and let his aura flare out into the city until it touched Vlad’s.

Yeah, that beat trying to navigate the city from above for the second time ever.

A sudden absolutely awful impulse hit him, and his grin stretched just a little beyond what was humanly possible.

Why the fuck not? The reveal was gonna drop soon enough, Tuck and Sam already knew how much he wanted to show.

And most of the table were watching him.

Danny rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and had a brief moment of nostalgia. Because if he was being theatrical…

“I’m going ghost,” he called as loud as he could, letting the glowing rings of his transformation wash over him, changing him to Phantom in front of a table of gawking bats.

Then he jumped into the air and flew out of the manor through the wall, Sam and Tucker’s laughter ringing in his ears.

Now he just had to hope he could reach Bruce before Vlad did anything he couldn’t easily fix.

**

Tim was the first to speak. Other than the raucous laughter of the Amity Parkers the dining room had been dead silent since Danny’s… well, it was a transformation.

Reaching out blindly with his other hand, Tim caught Duke’s arm.

“You saw that, right?” He asked, his voice a little hoarse.

Duke nodded slowly, still staring at the wall Danny had just disappeared through.

“Not that I know what the fuck it was… but yeah…”

Because… yeah. They’d known Danny was some kind of meta at this point. Guy really wasn’t trying to hide it. But that was…

“What, you ain’t seen that before?” Harley asked from the head of the table, her voice filled with a sudden glee.

Across the table Jason snickered, and Tim’s attention zeroed back in on him.

He’d known. He’d stiffened up before Danny had transformed, still hadn’t fully relaxed and Tim could guess why. Whatever he’d told Danny to “leave up”.

It didn’t look like he was in pain, more like he’d braced himself for something that hadn’t fully happened yet. But since apparently all secrets were just on the table now…

Tim turned to Tucker.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked, and Tucker sighed happily, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.

“An overdramatic little fuck?” Sam offered from the other side of the table, also still grinning. Tucker wheezed loudly, slumping back in his chair.

Tim shifted his attention to Sam instead, giving up on Tucker for now. To be fair, he was kinda surprised Jason wasn’t also laughing at them.

It must have made a comical scene.

“Obviously. But that… going ghost? What did he mean?” He pressed, leaning in across the table but not lowering his voice.

Sam and Tucker exchanged thoughtful looks, Tucker’s laughter fading to giggles as they clearly weighed their answers. Then Sam leaned in too, folding her arms on the table and leaning over them.

“How much were you actually able to look up about Amity Park?” She asked, and the rest of the table leaned in to listen.

Even Harley, thoroughly devoid of context, kept quiet for a change. She could smell a good story when she heard one.

And as much as it pained him to admit…

“Nothing at all,” Tim confessed with a brief shake of his head, eyes narrowed. “I couldn’t even find the weather account you showed us.”

Beside him Tucker took another deep, fortifying breath and steadied himself in his seat.

“Yeah… warned you about that. Any tech not actually from Amity needs a baseline level of ecto before it can get through the firewalls,” he explained, and as glad as Tim was to have him back in the conversation…

“But that isn’t how firewalls work,” he protested, knowing full well the other boy knew, “Facebook doesn’t have a separate server or separate firewalls for some small town in Illinois versus the larger world, and even if it has something to do with the IP…”

Tucker raised both hands quickly and Tim subsided, a little relieved to have been cut off. The frustration from last night was building again, and he really didn’t want to deal with that right now.

“Okay, you’re definitely right almost all of the time, but Amity Park’s is… different,” Tucker explained quickly, glancing around the table and almost immediately focusing his full attention back on Tim.

Dismissing the others as below the level needed to understand the conversation, or assuming they’d keep up on their own? They all could, none of the bats were slouches on cyber security, and the distinction didn’t matter to Tim.

Yet.

They were also probably all a little below Tucker’s own technical proficiency, from everything Tim had seen (and Steph and Cass’s admitted failure to break his server encryption).

(Oracle still hadn’t broken the same server.)

Tim nodded anyway, not willing to talk and slow the explanation any further.

They could have been doing this more than twelve damn hours ago.

“Firewall isn’t exactly the right term for it either, but about five years ago… well, we decided the rest of the world couldn’t know about a lot of things that happen in Amity Park. It wouldn’t be safe,” Tucker added, watching Tim’s face carefully.

He looked almost guilty. Like he could guess how much frustration this had caused Tim. Hell, if Danny knew their identities then Tucker, his guy in the chair almost certainly did too.

And since they weren’t pretending to all be civilians anymore…

“The GIW were already censoring the hell out of us,” Tucker continued, rolling his eyes, “it was actually really annoying. They actually did the IP thing, but you could VPN around that. But we didn’t want the rest of the world, other governments to come to the same bullshit conclusions about ghosts and keep causing trouble.”

“Ghosts like Danny,” Duke cut in, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

Tucker glanced past Tim for a moment and nodded.

“Pretty much, but Danny’s a special case. Most ghosts can’t actually do the magical girl transformation,” he added with a snicker, and Sam rolled her eyes, tapping the table for attention.

“What Tucker’s dancing around telling you is that what we call the Amity Park firewall is basically alive. It has nothing to do with IP addresses or any regular tech shit because it runs on ectoplasm.”

“It’s not actually alive,” Tucker cut back in with an exasperated huff, “it’s just something I came up with with some help from Technus. He’s the spirit of technology so he can possess computers, not people, and together we made a safety net.”

“All of Amity Park is saturated in natural ectoplasm,” Sam explained, ignoring Tucker’s pointed glare, “so now whenever someone’s trying to connect online to anything based in an Amity Park server, our ecto looks for your ecto in whatever device you have. No ecto, no data.”

“It’s not that simple,” Tucker whined, like this wasn’t already a level of complexity that made Tim’s head spin.

But it was the spinning that triggered an almost ignored memory.

“Ecto… that’s what Danny nearly said last night, when he was talking about the Lazarus Pits,” he said with a sudden sharp frown, attention jumping between the Amity Parkers and onto Jason.

Who shrugged. Like this wasn’t news. How the fuck had he even met Danny in the first place?

“Show of hands, who here’s surprised that the pit waters actually come from the land of the dead?” Jason asked dryly, gaze sweeping along the table.

Tim’s attention flashed directly to Damian and then Cass, the two of them sat on a full diagonal from each other. They were the closest thing the family had to experts.

Neither looked surprised, although Damian’s eyes were narrowed. New information then, and likely something he’d be looking more into. Cass just looked thoughtful.

Harley’s hand was up though, and the table gradually turned to its gravity. She shrugged.

“Had a bet with Ives that it was super tainted kool-aid. Not that we know much about it,” she added with a shrug, and Jason snickered.

“You’re half right anyway,” he told her and the raised hand was replaced by a pair of fists pumping into the air, but silently for once.

Even Harley wasn’t gonna interrupt a lore dump.

Jason returned his attention to Tim.

“Apparently the pits are made of contaminated ectoplasm. Super tainted,” he nodded to Harley, “because the regular stuff? Doesn’t bubble, doesn’t burn, and doesn’t kill people who touch it.”

Tim’s eyes narrowed for a moment, looking Jason over, hunting any trace of a lie. He’d made himself an expert on Jason’s features, on what every micro-expression might possibly mean.

Jason was a damn good liar, but Tim knew every tell that meant he spoke the truth.

Still, he glanced from Jason to Cass, sat on Jason’s other side. The Asian girl raised an eyebrow at him, then nodded.

Human lie detector confirmed. Good to know. Even if she was rolling her eyes at him for checking.

Duke leaned in further, half his body now hovering above the table as he grinned at Jason.

“So does that mean you’ve got ectoplasm in you, if you still have the pit rage?” He asked, which didn’t really seem like something to smile about.

Although not exactly worse than the idea of Jason just still having the pit in his veins. At least Jason didn’t seem to be really bothered by it.

He just shrugged.

“I guess so?” He offered suspiciously, his face still carefully neutral as he watched Duke. Whose grin broadened.

“So does that mean if you look up stuff on Amity Park you’ll get through?” He asked innocently. Jason rolled his eyes.

“I’m not a phone, Duke,” he said dryly, and Tucker snickered.

“It’s actually kinda funny you say that, cuz Danny’s been sucked into video games before,” Tucker said innocently, giving Jason a sidelong look.

Which… raised a couple of questions, since Jason didn’t seem embarrassed by it. Tim’s eyes narrowed for a moment.

“Is that something that could happen to Jason?” He asked cautiously, and for some reason Tucker actually laughed.

“Oh, it’s something that could happen to anyone,” he said sounding very smug, and Tim tore his attention off Jason to stare at Tucker, wondering what the hell he was thinking.

Tucker just grinned back and Tim’s best guess… well, it couldn’t have been a bad experience. It had definitely afforded him the full attention of everyone at the table.

Harley stuck a hand in the air again.

“Okay, I know I ain’t one o’ the kids, but I’m gonna need to know a whole lot more about that,” she declared, and Tucker laughed, shaking his head.

“Another time? I gotta get back to get ready for school early tomorrow at the latest but if you wanted to hang out again…” he trailed off hopefully, his attention slipping from Harley back to Tim.

Tim was not going to blush. This was a chance to gather more intel in future. And just hang out with a friend! There was nothing more to it than that.

He chuckled softly and nodded, settling back into his seat.

“Yeah, I think it’s safe to say we’ll see each other again,” he agreed, and definitely didn’t enjoy the way Tucker beamed at him.

Given their reactions, he probably did some kind of tech support while Danny… Danny was probably the ghost who’d protected Amity Park.

Had they always known who Jason and his family were? Tim knew he should reserve judgement until he could find an unbiased source and work out what had actually happened in Amity Park, but…

Well, it wasn’t like the Amity Parkers were hostile. There was always the chance it could be a long con, but Tim didn’t think so. They’d given too much away.

For now, it seemed safest to assume that they were fellow vigilantes, and were at least as aware of their identities as Danny. Tucker might even have been the one to work it out.

And if Tucker could solve their technical problems and give them open access to Amity Park, Tim could take that and confirm his theories.

If they had something to hide, Tim should be able to work out at least where to look based on what Tucker gave him.

“We’ve gotta wait for Danny to get back for him to infuse your tech, buuuut I can get you started on the data download if you can hook me into your set up,” Tucker said with an almost seductive smile.

Or maybe Tim thought it was seductive because it came with an offer of increased tech. And sure, he wasn’t hooking a stranger straight up to the Batcomputer, but…

Well, that’s what the fully isolated laptops were for. And Tim could bring one of those up from the cave, but… well, the Amity Parkers showed trust first. And they really had less reason to.

They’d been abandoned by the Justice League, and apparently personally picking up that slack. The least Tim wanted to do was promise them that it hadn’t been malicious; they really hadn’t known.

And to promise that he personally was going to find out how this had happened, and make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Last night wasn’t going to be in vain.

He’d ask the others about it, but as things stood right now, Tim would really like to see Tucker get a proper look at the Bat Cave.

**

Vlad was a little surprised to find he’d been having an absolutely charming afternoon with one Brucie Wayne.

He hadn’t expected to actually like the man, but one on one he had a kind of self effacing charm that Vlad rather appreciated. Far more tolerable than most of the arrogant rich bastards he had to deal with.

He had been so very interested in the running of Amity Park too, in the challenges of being a mayor and a business owner, and so few people really appreciated the struggle.

Of course, Vlad wasn’t going to out any of Daniel’s little secrets. It wouldn’t do to upset the boy more while he was trying to mend fences.

Even if he had left Vlad to the mercy of some hapless buffoons and the criminals they were chasing the night before.

So he kept it light, to issues like road maintenance, funding local fixtures like the library and the schools, things he thought Brucie had a chance of understanding.

Brucie had also noticed that their boys were becoming… close.

Well, it would be almost impossible for him not to have. And it was only natural that Brucie wanted to know more about the boy getting close to his son.

It was almost a little strange how easy it was to speak well of Daniel. For so long Vlad had been fixated on his inadequacies, on all the things he could fix if Daniel would just accept his help.

On wanting to mould Daniel into someone like himself. He hadn’t really considered that Daniel… might not want to be like him.

Vlad was rich, successful, on top of the world by every modern marker, but he was also alone. He had no one and nothing that he would call his own, that he could leave his fortune to.

Of course, as a half ghost it wasn’t like he was actually going to die, but not having a successor was part of what tugged at his core.

And Daniel… Daniel was much better at bringing people close than Vlad. He had dear friends, and easily found himself with new ones. Daniel was likeable, and Vlad had to admit that he himself… wasn’t.

People cozied up and tried to bribe Vlad, but perhaps it was the very things he’d seen as weaknesses in Daniel that made them actually like the boy.

So he focused on those instead, the qualities that had always baffled and confused him. The loyalty, the trust, everything he’d once tried to use to tear Daniel down.

And utterly failed at every turn. After so many years, yes, Vlad had detected the pattern. It was just so hard to keep from falling into it.

So when he felt Daniel’s aura wash out and across him, wary but amused on top of the aggression, he startled just a little. Made sure to obviously check his phone, and gasped when he saw the time.

It was obvious what must have happened.

“Oh my, Brucie, did you have another appointment today?” He asked in only mildly faked surprise, concealing his amusement expertly. “Dear Daniel has just contacted me, it seems you’ve been missed.”

Daniel likely thought Vlad was up to the kind of nefarious schemes that he… well, had come to Gotham to commit, in all honesty. But obviously those plans had changed with his little badger’s personal interest.

Perhaps he should have told Daniel that? Ah well, the boy would learn soon enough. He settled back in his seat, letting his aura broadcast his intent.

Calm-welcome-nothing to hide.

Felt Daniel’s disbelief, but that was fine. It was the truth.

Brucie visibly startled as well, taking his own phone out to check the time. Probably wondering why his own brood weren’t contacting him if he’d been missed so much.

“Oh… yes, I’m terribly sorry, I think Danny must have been invited to our family dinner, which I’m late to,” Brucie added with that lovely self effacing smile, shrugging. “I must have put my phone on vibrate. I’ll just tell them to start without me.”

Or his children didn’t expect him to check it, apparently with reason.

Vlad clapped his hands together and rubbed them a few times.

“Well, no matter. I do believe Danny is on his way to retrieve you, so we’d best wait where we are. I will pick up the bill, of course.”

They’d had the private room in the restaurant for around four hours now, which wouldn’t come cheap, but Vlad could be generous. Especially if Daniel expected him not to be.

Brucie made the usual noises of gratitude and appreciation, and mild confusion. Well, that would be answered by whether or not Daniel bothered to transform back before bursting in.

Either way, it wouldn’t be Vlad’s choice to reveal his little secret.

“I have my car with me, but if Danny’s on his way here…” Brucie trailed off, glancing to the window with a perplexed frown on that handsome face.

Whoever dealt with the man’s wrinkles for the cameras would be very upset, but Vlad got the feeling Brucie could afford the best. He had such an expressive face, and yet nothing was ever out of place.

Almost as good as ectoplasm for keeping one young.

He was probably wondering why Daniel was coming instead of one of his own children, and while Vlad could come up with an excuse about needing to see the boy anyway… well, he was bursting in on a very pleasant afternoon.

Vlad wanted to mend fences, not solve all the boy’s self inflicted problems.

Still, he gave Brucie a smile, touching the pad that would summon them a server again.

“Oh, you and Daniel can take the car I’m sure. He’ll just be here to make sure I’m behaving myself,” he added with a wry chuckle, settling back in his seat.

Something very much like alertness flicked across Brucie’s face, and Vlad could feel a flicker of suspicion for the first time from the other man.

Well, Vlad had baited him.

He certainly wasn’t as empathetic as Daniel, but he liked to keep an eye on his company, and this was the first trace of something more that he’d gotten from the man.

He waved a hand cheerfully, chuckling. The man likely had links to his city’s precious Bat and all his opinions on those more than just human. Best allay those concerns even if he was leaving.

“I have been known to talk peoples’ ears off if I get onto a subject like football, and four hours is surely long enough for him to suspect I’ve roped you into watching a game. Though if you did want to attend…” he let himself trail off, watched the man’s shoulders settle as he laughed.

“Oh, I’m not much of a sports fan myself, but I try to keep up with the Gotham teams when I can.”

The female teams at least, according to the tabloids, but Vlad wouldn’t judge. Much.

Brucie gave him that charming smile again, settling as well as the server came in and once again refilled their drinks.

“I didn’t realise Amity Park had their own teams in a league, though,” Brucie added with that softly furrowed brow. Like thought was such a strain for the man.

Vlad gave the server a quick smile and inclined his head.

“I will take the bill now, I believe we’re ready to go. And we don’t have our own teams in any of the major leagues,” he explained indulgently to Brucie, lips quirking up at the very thought.

Imagine trying to play a home game in Amity Park. It was hard enough getting the school teams out to their rivals.

And it gave him a chance to talk about his secondary Obsession.

“No, I have ownership of the Green Bay Packers, back home in Wisconsin. I really must warn you to stop there if you don’t want their full stats for the last four seasons or worse,” Vlad teased with a soft chuckle, taking a sip of his water.

Both of Brucie’s eyebrows rose and the man smiled back, settling into his seat.

“Well, Danny will be here soon to cut you off anyway,” he commented, that charming smile looking far too comfortable on him.

And he did have a point. Giving him a nod of acknowledgement, Vlad relaxed and let the gentle sea of Obsession take him, enthusiasm ramping up with every word he spoke.

It was nice to have permission for a change.

**

Despite his cheerful words, Danny couldn’t help but tense as he flew across the city. He’d make it within minutes, way faster than anyone trying to actually use Gotham’s streets, but…

Vlad had had Bruce for hours already. Danny was gonna hope that whatever he was doing, it was just more of his shady businessman bullshit.

He really, really, really didn’t want to fight overshadowed Batman.

Of course, remembering the looks on the flying furry brigade’s faces gave him a definite boost in mood. He didn’t actually wanna show up at Vlad’s giggling, buuut that was a problem for future Danny.

Present Danny was busy specifically not worrying so that he didn’t worry Jason into coming after him. Maybe telling the guy about Vlad’s lightning juice hadn’t been a great idea?

Of course, the good thing about the expanded aura was that he could still feel Jason’s like they were right next to each other.

And who’d have thought Jason was also a fucking mother hen? Poor guy was still tense, although at least Danny could still feel just a little amusement.

Yeah, Jason was getting to enjoy the full fruits of Danny’s theatrics. It wasn’t fair, but it made the whole thing better. Gave him something to keep his mind off Danny.

As if on cue, a strong spike of incredulous-funny-what the fuck came from his favourite non-clone halfa.

Danny was nearly at the restaurant now, and paused just above to send a questioning pulse back. Felt Jason startle, and could almost see him roll his eyes.

Later-come back-done?

The fuck were they talking about? Maybe the bats were right to always have their own little comms in. Danny sent a reassuring wave back.

Soon-anticipation-just arrived-curious.

And yes, Danny did expect the caution-stay safe-coming after you that he got back, but he wasn’t sure Jason would get the full effect of him actually rolling his eyes.

One last check for Vlad’s aura and Danny turned invisible, phasing through the roof and walls to have a look around.

Vlad was alone in a private room, with nothing but some glasses of water and a mostly empty bottle of wine. Alright, food was probably over a while ago, but the water might be a good sign.

Vlad wasn’t known to take care of the people he overshadowed.

Danny did a quick search of the rest of the building, stopping just shy of accidentally sticking his head through a bathroom wall when he felt a familiar presence.

Yup, Bruce was in the bathroom. Probably not overshadowed, which might just mean that Vlad was finished with him.

Not taking the risk, Danny made his way stealthily back to the private room, popping into visibility behind Vlad’s seat.

At least his aura being everywhere made it hard for Vlad to get a fix.

“What, did I not pay you enough attention last night, Vladdie?” He complained, draping an arm across the back of the man’s chair and noting the way he stiffened.

Also, these chairs? Much more pretentious. All carved and ornamental and bleh. Nowhere near as good as the ones at Wayne Manor.

Vlad didn’t actually turn to face him, reaching out and picking up his water glass instead. Filling his hands, so it’d be harder for him to take a shot at Danny?

Or just Vlad being Vlad and dismissing him.

Vlad took a long, slow sip before replying.

“While I would have preferred more of a chance to speak with you, Daniel, my presence here is solely to your benefit I assure you,” he said cool as a cucumber.

Danny narrowed his eyes, giving another poke of his aura. It didn’t feel like a lie.

“How so? Gonna rob Brucie blind and give it to the poor? I guess green also works for Robin Hood,” Danny mused, fingers drumming on the back of the chair.

Vlad actually looked at him then, a sharp sidelong glance before the man relaxed again, chuckling softly.

“Nothing of the sort. But if you and young Jason are going to be closely… connected, I will be seeing much more of Brucie, and I thought perhaps I could help lighten the… impression you left.”

Wait.

Was Vlad blushing?

Danny peered forward for a better look, utterly at a loss for what connection Vlad might be talking about. Cuz yeah, he and Jason were friends, but…

Oh.

Oh!

Vlad bought the closet scene.

Somehow that outcome had never even occurred to Danny and he felt himself flush, cheeks going green. Fuck, the goal had been to cause a scene, but Vlad actually thought…

Wait.

“So you’ve been here trying to convince Bruce I’m not an evil harlot corrupting his boy?” Danny asked, barely concealed glee rising with every word.

Because if this was funny, if this was fucking hilarious, he didn’t have to be embarrassed by it. Vlad didn’t need to know shit about his actual sex life, but if he’d actually called Bruce to try and polish up Danny’s new slutty reputation…

Vlad cleared his throat pointedly, still not looking directly at him.

“And luckily for you, he is somewhat willing to believe you have some good traits,” he said archly, and that fucking floored Danny.

“YOU think I have good traits?” He asked incredulously, cutting off whatever Vlad was about to say.

The man even took it pretty well, just one of those loud sighs like Danny was a particularly tiresome child, not a full grown adult man.

“I understand where you might have got the impression I don’t, Daniel, but if I thought you had none would I have pursued you so harshly?” He asked, finally turning in his chair to face Danny frankly.

Which meant he got both barrels of the sceptical face Danny was making.

“Dude, you say that like Obsessions are fucking logical,” Danny said dryly, and Vlad actually chuckled.

Not even condescendingly.

Like Danny made a point.

“Quite. Unfortunately for myself, the effects of my Obsession went into how I planned to achieve it, not in the goal itself. You have always been a remarkable young man, Daniel.”

And that was at least familiar ground.

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’d be even more if I let you lure me off to your creepy castle in Wisconsin to become mini-Vlad. Brucie can’t ship me to Wisconsin,” he pointed out, just about resisting the urge to poke Vlad in the chest.

The old guy was being weirdly noncombative, but it had been a while since they saw each other. Actual years, which Danny couldn’t imagine would have been good for the other halfa.

Much as it sucked being someone else’s Obsession and he’d loved being free of the Fruitloop… he wouldn’t wish the ache of an unfulfilled Obsession on anyone.

Fuck did that mean Vlad had actually moved on? Was that something he could do? Please let it be something he could do.

The older halfa chuckled again and took another sip of his water.

“No, I’m well aware that he can’t. But our time apart gave me little to do but consider what I know of you. You have grown to a fine young man, Daniel, perhaps with all that I have ever lacked.”

He looked up again, their eyes meeting, and Danny very nearly recoiled. Almost stepped back and away from the other halfa’s aura so that he couldn’t feel Vlad’s pride seeping into his skin like grease.

“Okay, this is getting fucking weird. Do I have to kick your ass to get whatever contracts you made Bruce sign back?” He asked sharply, trying to get the conversation back to somewhere he understood it.

Vlad hesitated a moment, then settled back again, clearly reading Danny’s discomfort in his aura if not on his face because the pride settled away.

Back in Wayne Manor, Danny felt Jason keying up, the slow growing happiness cutting straight back to danger-warning-protect-need help?.

Danny forced himself to calm too, closing his eyes for a moment to focus on the feel of Jason, not Vlad.

He just.

He didn’t know what to do with Vlad being proud of him. That had only ever meant he’d fucked up somewhere horrible before.

Calm-safe-I’m safe-not hurt.

“Still in contact with young Jason?” Vlad asked, letting the subject change even if he didn’t answer Danny’s question.

Danny cracked an eye open to peer at him.

“Yeah, he wasn’t a fan of me coming to see you on my own. Not to pick up his dad,” he added before Vlad could get the wrong idea.

Actually. It was still kinda funnier if Vlad kept the wrong idea.

From what Danny could read of him, no worries about that. Vlad was amused, but not comfortable.

Yeah, well, he could join the club. Danny gave his shoulder a gentle poke.

“Anyway. What did you really want Bruce for?”

Vlad glanced at his watch, then at the door.

“Well he’ll be back any second to tell you himself, Daniel. I wasn’t sure if you’d shared this little secret yet so I didn’t mention any of our shared nature, but he was the one to invite me out.”

Which also felt like the truth. Both parts. Danny hesitated for a moment, not quite sure if he was ready for this particular secret to be out to the Batman.

It’d be out the second the man got home if no one had texted him yet, but that was a long car ride away unless Danny flew back, and he didn’t want to leave Bruce unsupervised again.

Just because Vlad was being weird didn’t mean he wasn’t being Vlad.

Still, he’d know if Bruce was overshadowed right away, and if he wasn’t he could ask the man himself what Vlad had been up to.

And Vlad was in human form. Not like he could transform any faster than Danny if shit was about to go down.

The decision pretty much took itself out of his hands when the door began to open and Danny jumped back out of grabbing reach (just in case) and changed back.

Which was when he remembered what he was wearing.

**

Lunch with Vlad Masters had been… informative, and Bruce was a little surprised just how much time had passed.

Masters might be an unscrupulous businessman but he was clearly devoted to the things he cared for; Daniel Fenton, Amity Park, and the Green Bay Packers.

He just couldn’t quite reconcile how those three pieces fit into the picture at hand. To hear Vlad tell it, nothing untoward had happened in Amity Park in his whole time as mayor. And yet… the calls were real.

Even if Masters hadn’t hit the button personally, someone in his office must have.

Was there a chance that Danny had some sort of mind control abilities? That he’d removed the memories of those in Amity Park who’d opposed him?

It would explain why Masters would so fervently champion a boy he’d had almost nothing to do with. Oh, Danny Fenton had been born to two of Masters’ college friends, but they hadn’t seen each other for years before Danny’s birth.

As far as Bruce could tell the two had never even met before Danny was at least fourteen; Vlad had lived in an actual castle in Wisconsin and been a regular on the gala circuit for his area.

Friend of the family or not, it was suspicious that the only adults he’d spoken to so far had such diametrically opposed views on Danny.

Vlad was obviously hiding something. About Amity Park, Bruce was completely certain. The man’s accounts simply did not add up with the evidence. About Danny…

Bruce had his suspicions, but there was very little clear evidence about the man himself. Danny was technically an unknown quantity. And the center of far too many mysteries for Bruce’s peace of mind.

Bruce slipped away to the bathroom to let his thoughts settle not too long into Vlad’s lecture on the history of the Packers.

If Danny was coming from the manor they had a while yet before he’d be there, so he could let Vlad ramble on for a while once he returned.

His cheeks hurt from keeping up Brucie’s smile, but that was nothing new. The gala last night was still weighing on him, but it made it easier to put the act back on.

If Danny was coming here, and would accompany Bruce back to the manor, they would have a while to talk in the traffic. Finally a chance to speak to the man himself and let Bruce get an unbiased read.

Something had happened before Vlad claimed to have received a message from Danny. Something that made him start, and while it could have been the man’s phone, Bruce doubted it.

Even silent vibrations actually made some sound, and Vlad had barely glanced at the device. Not long enough to read any kind of complicated message; he hadn’t even unlocked it.

Vlad must have thought he was hiding it, but he’d been amused by whatever happened. Amused, and known immediately it was Danny. That Danny was coming.

Whatever else he might be, Vlad was certainly not a particularly skilled liar. Not to Batman.

Washing his hands, Bruce wondered if he might not be able to get Vlad back onto the subject of how Danny would be coming.

On his own, or at least Vlad hadn’t mentioned anyone else. And using Bruce’s car to get back? There were hardly bus routes between the manor and the city.

Unless Danny had some kind of meta abilities. Damian’s report had included his suspicions, and Duke and Dick had both seen him fly away.

That would put him here sooner than expected, but Bruce was certain he’d have noticed a flying meta in his city. Unless Danny only flew for certain situations.

Bruce paused at the door to their private room for half a second, letting his Brucie mask settle comfortably into place. Letting the smile spread. And pushed the door open.

Something bright flashed inside and Bruce tensed, anticipating a trap. One he would have no choice but to fall into, as he was now. But as the door cleared, he saw…

Vlad at the table, just as Bruce had left him. And Danny Fenton settling like he’d just moved sharply, wide blue eyes and messy hair above a shirt that was far too large for him tied off at his waist, and.

And.

Impractical for the weather. The trousers were closer to the right size, but arms and feet were bare, along with a slice of midriff.

Completely dry. It was still snowing, and the streets were covered in snow and slush. There was a slim chance he’d left a coat somewhere, but even his hair was dry.

Windswept and dishevelled hair, suggesting flight. His boys were right, and Bruce made a note to check in with Oracle later. See if he had been detected in the air.

Startled by his presence. Likely not because he didn’t expect Bruce to be there, not if he’d come expressly to pick him up. More that he’d been distracted by whatever had him moving so sharply.

Staring at him.

And then there was nothing else to observe, except…

Wearing one of Jason’s shirts. One that Dick had given him as a joke. It hung off him, exacerbating their size difference.

Danny was small. Closer to Cass’s size, and this close up Bruce could see the lean muscle, but there wasn’t much of it.

In pure hand to hand Bruce could probably take him, but whatever abilities let him tank a fight with Killer Croc left the actual outcome an unknown.

Blinking hard to distract himself from just how and why Danny had managed to show up in Jason’s clothes, he pulled on his big happy Brucie smile for the room.

And suddenly Vlad was incensed.

Bruce would swear the man had been smiling when he opened the door, but at some point while Bruce gave Danny a quick once over his mood had turned to rage.

He smothered it down quickly, but his jaw was still tight when he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Daniel, I believe this is the first time you have met Brucie,” Vlad said, his tone so frosty Bruce nearly shivered.

Not controlled by Danny then. At least, not controlled in a way that made him deferential. Not unless this was a slip in Danny’s control.

The boy looked startled still, looking down at himself like he’d forgotten what he was wearing and giving Bruce a sheepish smile.

Honestly he could have been wearing the world’s finest suit and not allayed any of Bruce’s suspicions, but it wasn’t Brucie’s job to let that show.

Instead he cranked the smile up a couple more notches, stepping forward and holding out a hand to shake.

“Yes, Danny, my kids simply won’t stop talking about you! I was sorry I couldn’t say hello last night,” he added, wanting to see how Danny would react to a little dig.

Nothing he couldn’t deny as being purely sincere.

Danny made a face and then pulled a smile on over it, stepping forward quickly to shake Bruce’s hand.

Some people only needed touch to take control of another. Bruce felt nothing of the sort, but Danny’s hand was oddly cool. Not unaffected by his clothing then.

“Yeah… sorry about that. About… well, all of it,” Danny said with a sheepish smile and one shoulder shrug that nearly had the shirt’s overlarge neckline fall off his other shoulder.

He scrabbled to right it, and Bruce firmly stifled the impulse to relax.

It was familiar, something any of his kids might have done. It could easily be an act to lure him into a false calm.

Brucie laughed and clapped him on the other shoulder, keeping half an eye on Vlad, who was still stewing at the table.

“Oh, I certainly got up to much worse in my day. You’re only young once, right?” He offered jovially, tipping Danny a playboy wink.

The boy blushed to the roots of his hair.

Interesting.

As much as Bruce wanted to pull at Vlad a little more, try and work out his sudden change of mood, he would much rather begin his observations of Danny Fenton directly.

“Still, we should get going or we’ll miss all of dinner,” he said with a cheerful smile, nodding to Vlad. “Thanks for a lovely afternoon, Vlad! Maybe we’ll catch a football game before the season ends.”

The man’s disposition brightened like he’d flicked a switch, though he still shot Danny an almost smug dirty look.

“Oh, that would be charming, Brucie. I’ll get you tickets for the Packers’ next game, we’ll have a splendid time.”

Danny snickered beside him, shoving his hands in his pockets and grinning back. Not afraid of Vlad either, for all that the other man was older, richer, and more influential.

“Yeah, Vladdie here knows aaaall about packers,” he said with a sly smirk, looking down on Vlad from his standing position.

Vlad responded with a look that Bruce had previously only seen on Clark’s face, around when Dick started teaching Kon sex jokes. And in the mirror.

Steph called it the “your puberty was my death sentence” look and insisted every one of the mentors used it. Bruce personally wasn’t convinced Oliver Queen knew what shame meant.

He’d abandoned his son. Bruce would never forgive that until Roy asked him to.

Perhaps he did have more in common with Vlad than he’d thought though. Watching the children get old enough for innuendo sucked.

Luckily Brucie could pretend not to get it.

“I know, he was telling me all about their recent games before you arrived,” he said cheerfully, oblivious as anything. And watched how both responded to innocence.

Vlad still looked pained, possibly by the pair of them now. Danny… Danny was smirking, clearly not convinced.

That was concerning. The boy knew who Nightwing and Signal were, there was a chance he knew Bruce’s identity too and this at least pointed in the same direction.

Still, no need to confirm anything for him. With another cheery wave to Vlad he held the door open for Danny.

“So, shall we? Would you like to take my car or do you have your own way back?” He asked, subtly prodding to see what Danny might say. And perhaps a hint how he’d gotten there.

Danny hesitated for a moment, glancing at Vlad. Like there was something between them, something to do with him.

Yes, Bruce would have to meet with Vlad Masters again in future. After he’d gotten to speak to Danny.

“I’ll come back with you,” Danny said with a shrug, nodding towards the door and then moving through it at Bruce’s wave.

He kept half an eye on the boy as they headed down to the restaurant’s garage and the sleek black car Bruce had driven over.

It’d be at least twenty minutes to drive back to the manor at this hour, maybe longer. Time enough for a short interrogation.

“I already messaged the others and told them to get started without us, I hope you don’t mind,” he said in his best charming Brucie voice, beeping the car to unlock it.

Danny shrugged, moving around to the passenger door, apparently entirely unbothered by bare feet on freezing concrete. Bruce almost wished he had some spare shoes for him.

“Yeah, it’s cool. I figured. So, any idea how long it’ll be to get back?” He asked, slipping into the car and sitting cross legged on the front seat.

Bruce followed suit, turning on the car and then the heat right away. Doing what he could.

“Probably not more than twenty minutes. Your seat is heated too by the way, here. You made it down very quickly, were you in the area?” Bruce asked, watching Danny from the corner of his eye as he strapped in.

Would Danny just tell him?

He’d not been hiding from the boys. If he really didn’t think this had to be a secret, he could just tell Bruce.

Danny shrugged again, opened his mouth, and Bruce’s phone rang, cutting him off.

His phone should be on silent. Bruce gave Danny an apologetic smile, pulling it out and planning to push the caller to voice mail. Wondering if he might have turned the ringer back on without meaning to. Or if Oracle had pushed through.

There was no one else he needed to talk to more than Danny right now.

Of course the universe would mock him for that thought.

The caller ID blinked accusingly up at him from the lock screen.

John fucking Constantine.

Bruce hesitated for a moment. Torn. The mystery or the responsibility?

Any other member of the Justice League would be ranked as a more reliable source of information than a possible suspect, but after the night Bruce had had? After what he’d learned?

The problems in Amity Park may have begun or ended with Danny Fenton, but the problems in the Justice League traced neatly back to John Constantine.

When it came down to it, Bruce knew he had a responsibility.

He gave Danny another, more apologetic smile.

“So sorry… do you mind if I take this quickly?” He asked, holding the phone carefully so Danny couldn’t see the screen.

The boy’s face cracked into a grin and he shrugged a third time, getting comfy in the expensive leather seat.

“Hey, if you keep one eye on the road you’ll be the safest driver I’ve ever ridden with. You don’t wanna be too late though, you’ve got another extra guest for dinner and she seemed real impatient,” he said with a slight smile, turning on his heated seat.

About to get out of the car, Bruce paused again.

“Oh? Who was that?” He asked half rhetorically, already listing the women in his life who could possibly make this situation worse.

Top of the list…

“Harley Quinn.”

Of course.

What did she want now?

Bruce forced himself not to think about it, swinging up and out of the car and holding the phone to his ear.

One disaster at a time. No matter how many the universe was piling in his lap after nearly a month of nothing. He’d known it was too good to be true.

At least the garage was empty, and the car soundproofed. Danny wouldn’t hear a thing.

“Constantine. How did you get this number?”

**

In a secluded corner of the House of Mystery everyone’s favourite magical scapegoat stubbed out a cigarette and reclined back in his seat.

“Oh, is this not fun when people do it to you? And here’s me thinkin’ barging into other peoples’ business was how you lot showed affection,” he said dryly, fingers tapping off the glowing purple ward scrawled on the phone case.

Phone numbers were for plebs.

He could fuckin’ hear Bats grinding his teeth through the phone. And yeah, maybe winding him up further wasn’t the best idea, but fuck it.

If John had good ideas, he’d never have given the fucking Justice League his contact info. Case in point.

Winding up the big Bat was the price they all had to pay for royally pissing him off all fuckin’ night and all fuckin’ day.

Kept an impressive handle on the growl though. Must have been somewhere semi-private.

“Constantine. You’ve been out of touch for more than eighteen hours and there is a serious-”

John cut him off, waving his cigarette around as if he could shush the man from here.

“Oh no no, big boy, you’re not fuckin’ blaming that on me. You’re the one fucking up all my communicators, and you’re going to fuckin’ stop. Now.”

And yeah, maybe he did enjoy the very tiniest inhale of surprise he could hear. Or was that Batsy counting to ten?

“What do you mean.” The trademarked growl was definitely creeping in, private place or not. Well, good. John being too annoying to kill was what kept him alive.

Better spell it out for the fucker though.

“I’m a fuckin’ magician, Batlad. On a couple of Hell’s most fuckin’ wanted lists. I can’t be fuckin’ found by people fuckin’ wishing me fuckin’ harm, and let me tell you how goddamn delighted I am to learn that that now includes you!”

All he’d wanted to do today was drop off some results for the junior spandex brigade about some of the glyphs and wards they’d found at a dig.

Just trying to stop them from blowing their fucking hands off. A humanitarian mission. John fuckin’ hated kids. Handless kids only slightly worse.

And he couldn’t contact a single member of the fuckin’ Justice League because some asshole was trying to use them to hunt him down.

Zatanna had needed to come to the House personally to circumvent the wards she’d helped him build.

(Good to know how well they worked though. Assuming they were working and he’d done something to piss off the big Bat enough that he was out for blood.

There was technically a chance they’d been calibrated wrong and Batsy wanted to bring him ham. Less likely than harm, in John’s humble opinion.)

Still, the only way to unfuck his communications was to find and defuse whatever had pissed the skulky bitch off, and while Zatanna had agreed to drop off his work for the kids, he needed to know what else they’d found.

He so was not going to fucking Alaska in January.

And with that as his alternative, John forced his most chipper smile onto his lips. Apparently people could sense that through phones. Who fuckin’ knew.

“So. You’ve fuckin’ got me. What the hell do you want?”

—————

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear

Next Chapter:

[sammylbir]

My V3 Talentswap AU!

HEYA!

Here's a lil talentswap AU. Its just for fun yet again and there won't be much made out of it. Here we go!

Male Cast:

Shuichi Saihara: Ultimate Crime Novelist

Appearance: Dark hoodie with some hitakana, bag with writing utensils and tools, also carries a notepad on him to take notes, for potential ideas. Lean built, yet firm.

Growing up mostly alone with his uncle, Shuichi spent most of his time reading case files, which gave him a fascination for crime novels in general, inspiring him to become a novelist himself. He published many crime novels, and he is beloved thanks to that. He does avoid interviews mostly and when he goes outside, he often goes outside disguised.

Kaito Momota: Ultimate Motivational Speaker

Appearance: Wears a dark pink sleeveless shirt that exposes his arms and is tight enough for his muscles to shine. His hair is a bit shorter and more well-kept. Very muscular and has facial hair

Kaito's whole life was rather normal, with no real personal tragedies. However, after losing his best friend to depression, he decided to become a motivational speaker, so the others can find the power within them to change and grow. He is very adamant and determined, if a little overbearing and too passionate.

In his freetime, he still does stargazing.

Ryoma Hoshi: Ultimate Assassin

Appearance: Complete Prison Uniform, dark purple, wears handcuffs. Hair is barely visible and he has baggy eyes. Muscular built

Like in the main story, Ryoma used to be a tennis player, who took out the mafia to take revenge against them, for killing his lover. But in this AU, Ryoma was never arrested and took the job as an Assassin, in order to keep the money afloat. He hates his job and a part of him wants to turn himself in and yet, some part of him wants to keep going. He was eventually arrested, but even so he managed to continue his business in his prison, often taking out prisoners who did the worst kind of possible crimes and sometimes helping prisoners escape, if they had been wrongly conflicted.

He loves the sea and animals. He is also a vegetarian.

Kokichi Oma: Ultimate Clown

Appearance: Light Purple and white jester suit, with clown makeup on it. Lean built and quite short.

Kokichi Oma always liked pranking people even as a child, yet after a meeting with someone special, he realised that making pranks to hurt people was wrong and instead began using his abilities, to make people laugh instead. Taking on the persona of "The Lying Clown" he often visits hospitals where kids reside, to put on a show and laugh. He makes sure to never curse or be mean in front of them, only doing so when they are not there.

In his freetime, he watches tons of social media posts and is quite a big k-pop fan.

Korekiyo Shinguji: Ultimate Ex-In

Appearance: Long black hair, wears a dark suit with a red tie, has no mask and he has no lipstick, like in canon. He is tall and lean, yet still toned in some areas.

Korekiyo Shinguji suffered his whole life, thanks to psychological abuse from his family, especially his sister. After a metal breakdown, in which he nearly murdered a young girl, he was sent to the psychiatry and after a year of therapy and recovery, he came out better than ever. Now he's an Ex-In, someone who's experienced with the inner workings of the psychiatry and helps other inmates to recover, by giving them advice on medication, thought progress and overall well being.

He's an avid reader, although he avoids anything that's too scary or horrifying.

Rantaro Amami: Ultimate Drag Queen

Appearance:

In costume: Dark blue undershirt, tons of makeup, especially green lipstick and medium length fake nails, along with fishnet stockings.

Out of costume: Dark blue shirt like in canon. But the lipstick remains and so does his extended eyelashes. He also wears a dark green coat over his shirt and has long baggy pants light blue pants. Piercings remain. His overall built is muscular, but still pretty lean and not bulky.

Rantaro Amami always had a thing for crossdressing. Whether it was because of him having a deep platonic relationship with his sisters or because of his general affinity for feminine clothing, he began to perform in drag on stage. This was something his father did not enjoy in the slightest and so, he was disowned and Rantaro performed on his own, secretly being in contact with his siblings for advice.

He listens to piano music in his freetime and likes to give make-up tips to others.

Gonta Gokuhara: Ultimate Botanist

Appearance: Dark Suit, well-kept long hair. pair of small glasses and a bag, to carry his notebook about various flowers he sees. Built like in canon and very well shaven.

The patriarch of the Gokuhara Family Clan, Gonta may look intimidating and strong, but is very sweet. He never went lost in the woods as a kid and therefore grew up, his parents grooming him as the next heir. But his good-hearted nature remains and so did his love for nature, allowing him to grow up to become interested in plants. He began to grow flowers and tons of other plants, for nature to thrive and for him to learn more of this world.

He still speaks in third person, but he is still highly intelligent, if a bit naive. He enjoys drinking tea.

Keebo: Ultimate Anthropologist

Appearance: Same body like in canon, but he wears a beautiful dark green kimono over his body and his ahoge is pointing behind him. Bulky

Keebo was built by his father, as an attempt to understand humanity more. For this purpose, to please his father, Keebo began to research humanity and about his tales. But witnessing the rather gruesome parts of humanity did leave him depressed, though he is trying his best to cover it up.

In his part-time, he tries stand-up comedy. Keyword being, "tries".

Female Cast:

Kaede Akamatsu: Ultimate Barrista

Appearance: Wears a white shirt with a big pink apron and some dark blue jeans. A rather chubby built.

Kaede Akamatsu's life was rather simple. Loving parents and a loving sister, her life was good without any more difficulties. That was, until her parents passed away and so, Kaede took over the Café. She left behind her piano passion, so she and her sister cam remain afloat. During that time, she became an expert at making any sorts of coffee, so much so that she has been dubbed "The Coffee Queen" by the local media, a title she is not that fond of. She is nice and hard-working, but also misses playing the piano.

She listens to classical music in her freetime and can speak fluent german.

Tsumugi Shirogane: Ultimate ???

Appearance: White blouse, a dark blue cravat and short blue hair with a pair of glasses. Has a chubby built.

Tsumugi Shirogane is rather secretive. Not much is known about her talent or where she came from. She is rather interested in manga and anime, yet she claims her real talent is not related to any of that.

In her freetime, she reads tons of novels and challenges herself with all sorts of puzzles.

Tenko Chabashira: Ultimate Drag King

Appearance:

In costume: Wears a dark blue suit and wears a fake mustache, along with baggy clothes.

Out of costume: Has long hair, wears turqouise shirt and a pair of light yellow shorts. Has a muscular built.

Tenko Chabashira doesn't like men. She loves exercising and protect women from evil men (at the cost of several restraining orders). Her becoming a drag king, was because she lost a bet with a friend, forcing her to perform on stage. Tenko at first hated it and then began to enjoy it, using her persona to mock overly hypermasculine and misogynistic men and also gives advice for men to improve themselves, in order to protect females. She is a bit stupid, but her heart is good.

She loves watching circus performances and loves bubble tea.

Maki Harukawa: Ultimate Chef

Appearance: Wears a big black apron and her hair is shorter, tied to a ponytail. She has kitchen tools around her belt. Has a tall yet firm and toned built.

Maki Harukawa grew up in an orphanage, like in canon. Surrounded by tons of kids, she eventually began to care for them and also took up cooking, to give her "siblings" (the other orphanages) some food. She is extremey skilled at cooking anything and she hates junk food of any kind, while also being an overly perfectionist. She does offer cooking lessons and she doesn't get, why no one wants to employ her services. (Everyone is scared of her.)

She enjoys arcade games, but nobody knows that. Except one.

Kirumi Tojo: Ultimate Prosecutor

Appearance: Dark purple suit, short grey hair, wears glasses and has a golden pocket watch in her pocket. Tall and lean strong built.

Kirumi Tojo is the most feared prosecutor in the country. She is very obsessed with justice, after witnessing her brother's killer escaping off-scott free, due to a faulty justice system. She became a prosecutor to change the system from the inside and yet, is often willing to pull dirty tactics to find the truth. Nothing of that is proven, though...as of now.

She enjoys playing video games and likes Facebook memes.

Angie Yonaga: Ultimate Influencer

Appearance: A white tanktop, long white hair ad baggy jeans. She has an athletic and fit built.

Angie Yonaga is an influencer, hailing from her island, to share more about her culture, life and Atua's teaches. She is beloved by many for her charming smile and bubbly personality. Angie does not like racist slurs in the slightest, especially the N-word and will get extremely PISSED, if anyone uses that word nearby, even as a joke.

She loves sketching in her free time and to visit the beach. She is fluent in many languages, including Bulgarian.

Himiko Yumeno: Ultimate Strongwoman

Appearance: Dark red top hat, sleeveless suit with a red cravat and some long stockings. Extremely tall, bulky.

Himiko Yumeno is known worldwide, to be the main attraction of the Nanami Circus. On stage, she is proud, witty and very confident. But in reality, this is a facade. In reality, Himiko is often depressed, tired and overworked. She hates her job and yet still keeps doing it, because it brings her money and makes her think that's the only thing she's good at.

She loves animals of all kinds and even if she is very strong, she actually would never hurt a soul.

Miu Iruma: Ultimate Mechanic

Appearance: White messy undershirt, dark pink overalls, tons of tools on her belt and wires wrapped around her arms. Has a strong fat built.

Miu spent most of her life in poverty and thanks to this, had to work her whole life in her friend's mechanical shop. Thanks to that, she began to learn more about machinery and get interested in it too. She is quite strong physically, yet her endurance is rather poor, due to a combination of poor nutrition and lack of sleep. She spends all night perfecting certain inventions, while taking care of clients during the day. As foul-mouthed as she is, this mechanic has a golden heart.

And she loves watching kids cartoons in her freetime and playing video games.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

That's it! Make sure to let me know your thoughts down below, okay? See ya! Questions, reposts and fanart/fics are appreciated, but necessary. Have a nice day!

[venaue]

tada , i redesigned them !!!!

anchor , crimson & aros only slightly , but i made the biggest changes to yuuto -- (hair colour + style)

in order : yuuto , kiyuu , anchor , mace , aros , crimson

general info + relationship dynamics between them below cut :3

gen info:

anchor is a puppy beastman , the rest of them are human

(or are they ;3)

anchor is 151cm (4'11) , mace is 166cm (5'5) , yuuto is 177cm (5'9) , aros is 178cm (5'10) , kiyuu is 180cm (5'10) , and crimson is 187cm (6'1) .

yuuto and kiyuu are from ramshackle , anchor from savanaclaw , mace from ignihyde , aros from pomefiore , and crimson from octavinelle .

ill add more here if i think of it ...

relationship dynamics:

yuuto and kiyuu have only known each other for a couple months by the time they get isekaid , but they're already really close. they are the only people who they can fully connect with all the way. the only people who have gone through what they have. they are the friendship of friendship ever.

anchor and mace have known each other and have been incredibly close since they were children, but got separated when they were around 10. they then met again at NRC, and their friendship was still as strong as ever. at least that's what anchor want to believe. what mace is trying so hard to pretend is so.

crimson was taken in by aros's family at around 6 years old. he's not officially adopted, but rather just lived with them, on the condition of crimson starting a modelling career just like aros. crimson and aros view each other as their saviors, and will always love each other unconditionally, and did from the very moment they met.

yuuto and mace are basically each others enablers they are so chaotic together. mace insinuating most of the chaos, and yuuto joining in for the thrill of it. he knows he'll always be entertained with mace. other than that they often play video games together.

yuuto and crimson are extremely close, and are always there for each other. they understand each other, and they both find comfort in that fact. they dont mind spending their lowest moments with each other. especially when they feel too shameful to spend them with their closest.

aros likes animals a lot. he being a supportive figure to anchor. he especially enjoys ruffling his hair and petting him like an actual dog. anchor doesn't mind it. even if he insists he does to everyone else.

aros often gives kiyuu makeup, accessories and outfits, and they often doll each other up and do cosmetics together. they're peaceful, calm times. times kiyuu doesn't get nearly enough off. they appreciates the efforts aros makes for them, and aros enjoys their company.

ofc there are others but these are the dymanics ive thought about and yeah!! they're the ones that spend the most time together 1 on 1, the rest are mostly only together when the whole group is.

im working on a visual ref post for things that i cant quite capture w the gl2 designs but uh -- well that'll get done when its done ig ...

[justpoliteconversations]

The Pinks [Linked Universe Hyrule]

There's a family in every era. Hyrule's about to learn about this one.

Masterlist

TW: None. Maybe.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

Hyrule was nervous. No, that's not nearly a strong enough word for what he was feeling. He was downright terrified of what he was about to do (what the rest of his brothers had convinced him to do). What he was currently doing.

In his time, the land of Hyrule was an inhospitable place to all life not born of darkness. To plant, animal and other with equal viciousness, equal cruelty, with few exceptions. An unhabitable wasteland in some areas, so damaged and tainted by Ganon's many years of dominion the air itself had become poisonous to anything that entered it.

Except, of course, for the monsters that dominated such places even several years after the fall of Ganon. Kept strong by the residual malice that seeped through the land like groundwater, often unseen, but prevalent in its impact upon the land. Whole legions of dark creatures living, planning, breeding, growing in the dark places of the world, just waiting for Hyrule to stumble upon their decrepit nests.

Hyrule made it a point to stay far away from such places, entering only when absolutely necessary. Understanding that sometimes the most heroic thing one can do is to not get involved, to stand back and let the timer run out even as your heart twists and rebels at the very thought of doing nothing. Such was the nature of his blessing, his curse, his burden. The magic that runs deep within the thick of his lifeblood.

And, there was another reason he stayed away from such places.

This is the type of land the largest mercenary guild (militia, for there can be no other word for the size and scale of such an organization) in the entirety of his Hyrule had claimed as their own long before Hyrule even drew breath. Generations upon generations of warriors and hunters all clustered together in great legions of bloodthirsty unity. An extended family of killers, near 700 strong and counting in ever rapid growth. With a bloodline so extensive, so ancient, so persevering, the very beginning of their origin was shrouded in legend.

The Pinks. The Mercenary family of the wastelands.

Their name was known throughout the land, and yet rarely ever uttered from the lips of the common folk. Because while this family was known for their strength and power and the service they gave as the unofficial keepers of the deadly wastelands they stood guard over. They were also known to be unsociable and far removed from the people of Hyrule as a whole. Often displaying fits of temper unbecoming of anything resembling their near knightly standing amongst the public (sparse though that public may be).

Because they weren't knights (and never claimed to be). The weren't palace soldiers (whom they openly regarded with distrust). They weren't even bound by the niceties of social convention. They were a family of mercenaries and hunters, completely uninterested in the politics nor social governing of the land they shepherded (because that's what they did, whether they owned up to it or not). By their own admission, in one of the few addresses they'd ever made to the greater masses, they thought the idea of playing nice to save face was a joke.

They really were a strange bunch. Strange, but powerful nonetheless.

Still, despite their oddities, Hyrule had never had it easy with mercenaries. With such value put on his blood, and the lengths (and money) pro-Ganon factions were willing to go to obtain it, he had never met one that didn't know his face on sight.

He couldn't even imagine what would happen if he wandered into their territory and they got it into their heads that his head was worth whatever inflated price the latest dark affiliated cult had put on his bounty. He didn't want to think of how quickly he'd have fallen had these powerful individuals with their influential family and damn near limitless resources had ever sought to take his blood for their own.

He prayed to the Golden Three every time he heard even a whisper of their name on the wind, in the dark of a tavern rafter, in the shadow of an alleyway. Thanked them for the fact that he was not the kind of prey these people sought. That they were not known for hunting fellow hyrulians for profit or sport (Hyrule shivered at the memories, so many memories, of sadistic grins and leering eyes). That they had a strict code of ethics they were bound to.

But he would never tempt fate. He would never put himself in a position to see how deep that moral code ran through their blood (to see if the Blood Cursed Hero of Hyrule was exempt from their decree). He had never stepped foot into any of their dead-land border towns. Had never taken that risk. Not until now, that is.

It felt almost surreal, to gaze upon a village pushed right up against the suffocating dark of a tainted forest edge, separated by nothing but a flimsy wooden fence and a scant few meters. Truly, these people were as brazen as rumor tells.

"The Pinks? What a dumbass name for a merc guild." Legend huffed, taking in the small splattering of buildings clustered in half-hazard formation around one decently sized Mercenary Hall in the center of the makeshift village. His thin brows had quirked in judgement, clearly unimpressed by the (as one could guess) pink banners hung from nearly every building.

No one said anything directly to contradict him (because really, they were having the exact same thoughts), but one look from Time kept Hyrule's predecessor from further comment as they moved further into the village. Hyrule was grateful for it, because he really did not want to find out if these people were just as quick-tempered as rumor said.

He sent up another prayer. Begging for things to go smoothly just this once. For them all to leave fully intact and without the fabled legendary grudge of The Pinks following in their wakes.

He should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Or, more accurately, he should have realized the world had a sense of humor. And he was the subject of it.

'On second thought.' Hyrule's mind stuttered numbly with disbelief, stunned silent (as was the rest of the Chain, eyes wide and floundering in the face of this unexpected revelation). 'Perhaps it wasn't me who was the butt of it this time.'

"You deaf or stupid, Side Bangs? I asked what region you hail from?" A young woman with dull pink hair and a frightfully familiar face stared down their very own Legend, who was looking rather pale around the face.

"Back up, Rina. Yer ugly mug's throwin' him off." Came another pink haired (but only on one side, the other blonde as a wheat field) girl's cool quip.

Rina swirled around with a thunderous snarl, thin, expressive brows hiked into an ominously pink hairline. "Shut yo mouth, Halfie bitch! No one asked you!"

"Girls." Came the firm, even reprimand of a tall man with long pink-blonde braids cascading down his bow-laden back. "Yer gonna be late if you keep wastin' time runnin' yer mouths."

The full pink one looked about ready to snap something back, but the arrival of a dark-haired woman (with the same damned face. the same damned nose) stopped her cold.

"Move." The woman said, voice low and rasping with cold command. And the girls fled, but not before full pink cast a defiant glare over her shoulder at the woman.

No more words were exchanged after. The woman merely nodded to the group, cast a considering eye over Legend, and left. The braided man in toe, casting his own apologetic grin over his shoulder and a small wave of farewell.

As one, the chain all turned to Legend, waiting for him to explain.

"The fuck would I know!" Legend snarled defensively, not appreciating being the center of attention while he was still reeling from having met his (probable) descendents so unexpectedly.

"So it's real?" Wind asked, wide eyed, as he eyed Legend's single pink bang.

Instead of answering, Legend turned heel and stormed off towards the Mercenary Hall, determined now to get this over with and forget the whole experience had ever happened. And the chain scrambled to follow behind, wanting answers, but understanding Legend couldn't have known regardless of their curiosity.

Hyrule prayed once more to the Three. Prayed that no one thought to ask him if he knew anything about the whole spectacle. Because he most certainly didn't and was still reeling himself from such a chance encounter.

The Chain caught up to Legend just as he threw the doors open.

Only to be greeted by a sea of pink. And a sea of equally unimpressed glares staring them all down with varying levels of judgment. And Legend stood before it all, looking like the foot of Hylia herself had come to kick him between the legs.

"Who popped another kid without tellin' no one!? Amanda!?"

"Fuck you! That ain't my problem!"

And then. Chaos. Sheer, unbridled chaos.

And amidst that chaos.

"Oh! Look at the freckled one! Isn't that Link?"

"What a cutie! I call dibs on courting rights!"

"I outrank you!"

"And I'm better than you, Streaks-freak!"

"Fuck you!"

"No! You!"

"The tall one's pretty cute too, though. Wait a minute."

And the only thing to run through the Chain's collective heads in that single, unified moment of befuddlement as they stared at Legend's back was...

'A rabbit indeed.'

---

Back to the deepest of shadows for rest.

[hc-werner]

The Dialectical Humanism of Big-Ass Robots: An Intro

“There’s a deep, earnest seriousness to most mecha shows (especially within the “real robot” subgenre) that implores the audience to grapple with intricate ideas and themes drawn from philosophers like Aristotle, Nietzche, and Rousseau, oftentimes complete with allegorical mouthpieces for competing ideologies.”

My high school students always lose their shit when I tell them that I, Coach Werner, also watch anime. I kinda feel bad about it. By now, I know I’ll see the excitement die from their eyes little by little as they pepper me with questions, searching for a connection with show after show after show. 

“Coach, have you seen Jojo?”

“Nope.”

“What about DBZ or Naruto?”

“Not since before you were born.”

“Attack on Titan? Utena? Tokyo Ghoul?”

“Not yet, though they’re on my list.”

“The fuck Coach? I thought you said you watch anime!”

When I tell them I mostly watch mecha, they get confused. After I explain that mecha are the ones with jumbo-sized robots, they groan. I’ve even had one kid say that didn’t count. As a general rule, I try to not let the opinions of 15 year olds hurt my feelings; I only docked his grade a couple points. 

Whatever my students may think, oversized anthropomorphized robots have fascinated me since I was a kid. Over the years, as I’ve revisited shows from my youth and found new mechanized, cel shaded rabbit holes to tumble down, I’ve tried to figure out what exactly was so appealing about the genre. There’s definitely a bit of wish fulfillment, a sorta kaiju-sized power fantasy, sure, but that’s not all of it. Same with intricate sci-fi world building, and of course the thrill of pew-pew dogfights and beam saber duels. But none of those alone seemed to account for the whole thing. They’re all fun set dressing, definitely worth a watch on their own but not enough, I don’t think, to capture my imagination for nearly a quarter of a century.

This series, The Dialectical Humanism of Big-Ass Robots, started off as a rambling, borderline incoherent and definitely substance enhanced diatribe that tried to explain how excited I was for the first episodes of Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch From Mercury. It feels right, though, both the name and the bigger through line.

There’s a deep, earnest seriousness to most mecha shows (especially within the “real robot” subgenre) that implores the audience to grapple with intricate ideas and themes drawn from philosophers like Aristotle, Nietzche, and Rousseau, oftentimes complete with allegorical mouthpieces for competing ideologies. There’s also the slightly goofy and always physics-defying “rule of cool” concepts of the robots themselves–I mean, who doesn’t want to see a boom cannon with angel wings, or a crucified rage monster, or transforming karaoke jets?–that can easily be laughed off as a kid’s cartoon. Any foolhardy (read: hubristic and dumbasstic) attempt to try to find unifying threads within such a wide and varied genre has to address both of those tendencies. Here, friend, you will find one such foolhardy attempt. 

Mecha anime, more than any other subgenre, has a fundamental tension summarized by two infuriatingly simultaneous, contradictory truths:

Anthropomorphized mechs bring out the best in humanity, allowing us to overcome our flaws and leap forward into a better future.

Anthropomorphized mechs feed into the worst traits of humanity, allowing us to destroy ourselves in new and technologically advanced ways.

Those two overwhelmingly common truths, when taken together, can be summarized in fancy philosophy jargon with just two words: dialectical humanism.

Dialectics is a concept pioneered (in the West, at least) by Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel during the late 18th and early 19th century. There’s literally a whole field of study called “Hegelian Dialectics” that we’ll touch on from time to time, but the main thing to know is that two mutually exclusive and contradictory ideas are often both true at the same time. 

Humanism has a long, fraught history, but the most common Western interpretations stem from Enlightenment-era ideals. Essentially, humanism boils down to the belief that humankind can progress beyond its animalistic nature through a combination of empathy and rational thinking. Again, we’ll be touching on a whole slew of humanist thinkers throughout this series.

So that’s The Dialectical Humanism of Big-Ass Robots. I feel like mecha shows–from Astro Boy to Zeta Gundam, and almost everything in between–play with this dialectic, where the mechs themselves represent humanity’s ultimate destruction and ultimate salvation simultaneously. Sometimes we struggle to survive, sometimes we overcome and thrive, and sometimes we find ourselves transformed into an ocean of pink goo.

In this series, we’ll look at:

Magical Newtype Bullshit and radical empathy

Depression, memory, and trauma, and why Shinji can’t just get in the fucking robot

The power of music (and love, hope, and propaganda) in a transforming space city

And much, much more.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go watch a Tanuki pilot a Gundam.

[faultychips]

I <3 Catching MONSTERS and BEASTS!!

...Y'know, the more often you have to acknowledge something awkward, the more awkward it gets. So, I'm not gonna make a big deal about how long it's been since I last made a review again after this time. Finishing college and health complications got in my way for a little while, but I think I'm finally ready to get back in the saddle, and I'm very excited to write about games again, at whatever pace I need to take to do it. I've missed this. Let's get back into it already!

In my search for something that can measure up to my expectations and my nostalgia for Pokémon, I came across two games that stood out to me: Coromon and Cassette Beasts. Both looked like very fun games, but to know how good they really are, I had to try them out for myself. Let's start, then, with the game I finished first.

Coromon is, first and foremost, an extremely good "Pokémon Clone". It can be kind of exhausting to hear this said about any game that remotely includes monsters or creatures, but Coromon is very clearly trying to replicate the core features of the Pokémon games, and it does it very well. There are technically 124 Coromon to collect, but a few are variants on existing ones, so it's really closer to 110. Still an impressive number of original designs! I found myself thinking "Wow... this game's art is gorgeous!" over and over again; the game would not be nearly as engaging, as it indeed is, without the vivid backgrounds and beautifully animated sprites.

Overall, I had a lot of fun with Coromon. Everything that is fun about Pokémon is present and still fun in Coromon, and there are even a few improvements on the formula. For instance, capturing Coromon seems to have a much higher chance of success, making that whole process much less annoying while still not being a guarantee, and you'll be given plenty of free healing and capture items throughout the game that I encourage you to use freely (basically everything is available in shops by the end of the game, unlike items such as Max Revives in the older Pokémon games). There is also a welcome change to the "shiny" formula: there are instead "basic" Coromon, "potent" Coromon, and "perfect" Coromon, each with a different color palette and most importantly, better stats for rarer variants. This gives players an actually good reason to seek out "shiny" variants, and the midground Potent Coromon are relatively simple to find and you'll meet a nice amount over the course of your journey. (Perfect Coromon are... not so easy to find, but I'll get to that.) And most importantly the game is fun! Coromon Battling is unique in many ways--like how there are 13 types, but only 6 are available as Coromon Types, and the other 7 can only be used as Skills (attacks)--but it's just as entertaining as Pokémon battling and I enjoyed designing my team around the blend of new and familiar rules.

Of course, in a cruel bit of irony, Coromon falters in the same ways it triumphs: it is a lot like Pokémon, specifically the older generations 1 through 5. I hope you're the kind of person who likes grinding level-ups in RPGs, because you'll be doing it inevitably here. The story is also pretty forgettable, with mostly unremarkable characters... true to most Pokémon storylines. The "Perfect" Coromon replicate all the time-wasting problems of regular shiny Pokémon, typically taking multiple hours to catch just one, while adding on that the perfect ones are ideal for competitive play and therefore you're playing sub-optimally by not grinding out hours to get one; the double-edged sword of "a good reason" to get "shinies". Though honestly, for better or worse, you don't need to worry about competitive play because there aren't enough players online at any given moment to actually engage with the multiplayer features. There are no asynchronous options to cover for this, either. I found this a real shame, because it seems like the only way to get certain visual cosmetics (that the game goes to great lengths to make sure you know about) is through participation in multiplayer battles. It feels like you should be able to purchase them with actual real-life money; I wouldn't be willing to do that anyhow, but I couldn't even find a way to do that, so... Maybe on the mobile version you can. And finally, when Coromon's main story ends, you're basically done playing, same as many modern Pokémon games. There's an attempt at a battle tower equivalent of sorts, but I found it way too grindy for way too little rewards. It's hard to get excited about cosmetics and such when there's nobody else to show them to.

I think one thing that Coromon does that doesn't work very well that is unique to itself is that the player character has a good lot of dialogue, and oftentimes I found myself thinking "Wow... I wouldn't say that. That really takes me out of roleplaying as my character." Ultimately, it's a small 'problem', but I think it's an interesting example of why silent protagonists are so effective, because when the player character acts independently of the player, it can be distancing. ...Oh, and the game was made for mobile first and once you see that big glaring pause button at the top of your screen it's hard to unsee it, but ultimately I do like having the option to use just my mouse as a controller when playing. It would just be nice if you could toggle the mobile UI elements off.

Ultimately, Coromon was a game I enjoyed a lot, and nicely satisfied that Pokémon gen 4-5 2D itch I had, but while it makes a lot of the same good choices as Pokémon, it also carries over many of their flaws. I think it succeeds as being a generally equivalent experience, though notably lacking some of the perks that come with Pokémon's cultural popularity. As I was writing this review, they announced that they're in the process of making a sequel to Coromon, which will be titled Coromon: Rogue Planet. While I didn't feel like I necessarily needed more of the original game after the 50 hours I sunk into it, I think this is a great opportunity for the devs to learn from the creation of this first game and for the sequel to surpass its inspirations; I will be watching to see if it does.

Despite coming out about a year after Coromon, my Cassette Beasts review is actually much more overdue, because I started playing it in 2023 almost immediately after its release. I spent 30 hours in the game, did everything you need to do in order to beat the final boss...and then I dropped it in early May and never got back around to truly finishing it. After playing Coromon, I decided it was also time I put this other beast to rest. In all fairness it had been about a year and a half since my last playthrough, so I started a completely new file from the beginning to make sure I was refreshed on the full Cassette Beasts experience.

Cassette Beasts, like Coromon, has a really phenomenal amount of work put into its artwork. Every single monster is fully and energetically animated, with attacking, hurt, and sleeping animations for all 129 monsters (in the base game). There are also full dialogue sprites with a range of expressions for every remotely important NPC in the game, and it makes each bit of interaction feel more significant and engaging. There are some caveats to the visuals which I'll elaborate more near the end, but overall, the effort on display is incredible and all the 2D artwork looks great. The monster designs in particular manage to be unique in ways I really appreciate; it's really easy for mon-games to fall into the trap of just making most of their catalogue "just a real-life animal but... red, or maybe blue" and I feel like Cassette Beasts manages to avoid that trap and is consistently creative with their real-life inspirations.

One of the first things you might notice about Cassette Beasts is that all of its battles are in "Double" format; i.e. you control two different characters at once, facing one or two enemy characters; usually fighting 2-on-2. Those were always my favorite in the Pokémon games, and having an entire game of it does not disappoint. I also really like how much there is to the combat system; the way different types interact with each other is complex without being too hard to remember. Whenever you encounter a new mechanic you haven't seen before, like status effects such as Poisoned or Burned, a tutorial tip will show up to explain how the specific mechanic works, which helps a lot to evenly introduce the player to everything as it becomes relevant. In summary, the battling system is designed well and very fun to play around with.

One of the other things you might note about Cassette Beasts is that it boasts a "fusion" mechanic, something rather coveted in Pokemon spaces (so much so that there is a volunteer-driven fangame dedicated to the concept), making it a perfectly understandable feature of a game trying to go above and beyond the existing fusion-related ideas Pokemon has to offer. Unfortunately, while this idea is relatively well-implemented in gameplay, it wasn't anything very interesting either--every possible combination of monsters are fuse-able, and every fusion has a custom animated sprite, which is a jaw-dropping amount of work, but because of the huge amount of them these fusions tend to be very simple blob-looking combinations, often with "copy-pasted" elements. Shortcuts like these are extremely understandable given the workload, but aren't very compelling to look at. Since textually these "fusions" occur when the player character and a given NPC have a strong bond, maybe taking the time to design a single complex, unique fusion for each NPC instead of every single actual combination--quality over quantity--may have been a better choice.

The pacing...let's talk about it. The game doesn't waste any time hitting you with its complete premise and then throwing you out into the open world within the first hour. This feels pretty breakneck, but I suppose I appreciate that it seems to be trying not to waste your time...though I think a game should ideally make you enjoy even the starting tutorial-y parts of the game. Unfortunately, the game never really stops feeling breakneck, since it is an open world game with quests that you can technically complete at any time. Pretty much the whole map is accessible to you immediately, gatekept only by obtainable abilities scattered throughout that have no hard level or progression barrier. The game then becomes a series of frantic grocery check-listing: run back and forth from one destination to another, fast-travel repeatedly because it's the most cost-efficient option for healing, snap up every new objective the game puts in front of you...wander aimlessly until an NPC hands you another quest or hint about something you should probably be doing right now. This formula is what actually caused me to drop off of Cassette Beasts for so long back in 2023; once you reach the endgame, the quests dry out almost completely, and I just... ran out of momentum. Not to mention, that's around the time the game will start increasing your chance of finding bootlegs- the "shinies" of this particular title, which have a random typing and better moves than the average beast. My last hours on that save file were spent trawling the world map for these random bootleg encounters under some vague pretense of preparing for the final boss, before I realized how pointless it would be to raise a monster from scratch when I already have a fleshed-out team from the previous 25 hours of playing...and then I had no willpower left to cross the finish line, so I dropped it and moved on. On my more recent attempt, I was able to mostly ignore the bootlegs (still compulsively catching every one I found of course -- maybe one day shiny Pokémon just won't be a thing in these games and I can be free) and got all the way to the final boss and got to see the ending, which I enjoyed and wish I had just gone ahead and seen in 2023, but… it still felt like it was hard to really sit still and savor the world of Cassette Beasts; there's always something I ought to be getting over with instead. It could honestly sometimes be more of a nauseating chore than a thing I wanted to do.

...Actually, it took me two play sessions and a total of 50 hours to realize this, but I think the game actually made me motion sick for a majority of the time I was playing it. A previous version of this review was a bit more harsh (as harsh as I'm comfortable being, anyway) but I realized after looking it up and seeing some other reports of the same issue that it's likely more a fault of the way the game's lights and camera are functioning than anything else it features. I almost never get sick playing video games, so I'm honestly not exactly sure why it was happening, but I suspect it's something about the 3D backgrounds with 2D sprites, as well as the ways the camera shakes and sometimes swerves quickly in 90 degree increments. I feel like the game would have looked nicer (and been less nauseating) if the world map was in 2D with a stricter player movement limit, with less room for janky collision and puzzle malfunctioning, but I also understand that would have likely been much harder to implement. The music is a small part of this, but I also feel like the addition of vocals to existing instrumental tracks in certain areas and conditions made me get tired of hearing said tracks over and over very quickly; more songs to rotate through may have helped this, but I feel like the vocals were best isolated to the fusion battles, and even those ones start to get repetitive eventually.

Finally, I want to wrap up by talking about the story, because I feel like Cassette Beasts has a great story with an interesting cast of characters, but it's also very brief in total, and it often pulls its punches when it feels like there's something interesting about to take place. For example, one of the NPCs you can fight alongside in battles--I'll call these “companions”--is an ex-member of a cult that still actively occupies the island you're stranded on. Not only that, but she was essentially a high-ranking member with a good degree of participation and control over the cult’s activities; sounds serious and complicated. But dig deeper and you come to realize that the cult is little more than a paparazzi club for a guy who intentionally resembles a talk show personality, and the only real negative impact they have on themselves and others is the fact they hoard a small bit of land far away from anybody else, and are generally antisocial. Your companion will still act like she can never be forgiven for her involvement, to which your character will have two options of response that both say "it's okay, you're not a bad person"... which is true, because it seems like she never did anything of particular consequence. I don't think any of Cassette Beasts has to be gritty or serious or troubling; my favorite companion quest is the one where an artist's character from middle school has come to life and wants his validation, which is quite silly and fun, while also having real emotion to it. But it feels like sometimes the game dips it's toes into more serious topics with purpose--cults and depression/suicidal ideation being the standouts from the companion questlines--but then quickly retreats or covers itself with jokes before it can really make a proper impact, and I find that disappointing. (I do wonder if maybe these companions have their more potentially "undesirable" edges sanded off because 5 out of 6 of them are romanceable.) But aside from the companions, I really enjoyed the main storyline of the game, and the different "Archangels" you'll meet were the highlights of my visual and gameplay experience. The ending was satisfying and, in my opinion, nice and sappy in the best ways. I love a good story about alternate worlds and strange creatures and people rising to overcome any challenge. I really enjoyed the time spent exploring that with Cassette Beasts; my main criticism is that a lot of the rest of the game feels like a winding distraction away from this solid core conceit. Maybe in a more concise game a playthrough would take a nice 10 hours rather than 20...or maybe I would play longer instead in a game that makes you feel better about taking it slow.

Despite the criticisms I've had in this review, it is truly amazing to see the work small independent teams are doing nowadays, making titles that rival triple-A studio efforts. Especially when it comes to Pokemon, which has found itself producing increasingly unimpressive games over recent years, but also in general, as big game companies across the board rush to get messy products out the door, there's a great opportunity for indie devs to rise to fill the gaps of quality these studios have left empty. It is no small feat to do, but Coromon and Cassette Beasts shoot for the moon anyway, and I think they stick the landing quite well in their own rights. My criticisms are made partly in the hopes that they will be useful feedback for whoever comes along looking to make their own Pokemon-inspired title, be it these studios in sequels, or a newcomer to the game. These two games are fine candidates for someone looking to have a new, fresh experience with the classic monster-catching formula they enjoy; if either interest you, check them out below!

Coromon is available for $19.99 on: Steam, GOG, Nintendo Switch; $4.99 on App Store , Google Play

Cassette Beasts is available for $19.99 on: Steam , Nintendo Switch, Xbox / Xbox Game Pass