#static writings

[writeouswriter]

[scribblestatic]

Shen Yuan is, of course, a sweetheart of a cat that is totally, entirely, wasted on that acerbic Peak Lord who named him.

That is, of course, until a demon attack on the sect includes the use of True Heart Vial Rose and shows exactly what Shen Yuan is thinking.

Which happens to be rampant and increasingly creative expletives as he hisses, batting fiercely at the downed demon.

"Fuck your mother!" the cat yeowls, scratching at the demon's eyes. "You dogshit, peh! Curse your family! Your ancestors and descendants should feel shame having you in their bloodline!"

He quickly changes gears as he runs over to Shen Qingqiu, rubbing against his legs. "Jiu-ge, Jiu-ge~ That thing is filthy! Hurry and salt this wretched corpse lest it spreads some sort of miasma!"

Shen Qingqiu is, of course, more than a little pleased to do exactly that.

Shen Yuan, it seems, is utterly unaware of the fact his thoughts are understood. It doesn't help that he doesn't actually understand much of human speech (yet), so even if he's understood, he can't do the same for them. And that means he's very honest about whatever he thinks at all times.

"Is this supposed to be a gift? It's crude. It's bloody. It's exactly the kind of thing that dogfight Bai Zhan Peak would consider a prized possession. Its liver should be impeccable for qi restoration, and its bones, once in a fine powder, can help heal meridians. It's a good gift. Jiu-ge should take it." It's that commentary over the large corpse sitting outside the bamboo house that A) helps Shen Qingqiu realize it's not a threat and B) realize who it came from.

Also, apparently the cat has some sort of instinctual knowledge of beasts like itself. How curious.

"Going out of their way to misunderstand. Hmmh. Don't mind them, Jiu-ge. They aren't worth the effort. A waste of space and breath, they are."

The Peak Lord can't help a little laugh as he agrees, watching the cultivators accosting him turned red in the face at being dismissed by a cat.

"Aiyah, what am I going to do with you..." He purrs softly as he helps Shen Qingqiu calm from another, increasingly infrequent qi deviation. "You can't keep getting hurt like this. If you can't stop, I guess this Yuan will have to watch over you for as long as I live."

If Shen Qingqiu starts looking into how to help a cat become a spiritual beast after that, well, that's no one else's business.

"Jiu-ge cultivated demonically first. Of course cultivating the spiritual way only will cause an imbalance! Qi is qi, none is good or evil on principle, just like people and demons. Jiu-ge should keep using demonic cultivation to balance his energies! Fuck Wu Yanzi, there's tons of demonic cultivators better than even those from 'righteous' sects!"

If Shen Qingqiu begins improving in leaps and bounds, well, that's also his own business.

By the time Luo Binghe arrives, Shen Qingqiu is much more settled in himself and doesn't bother spiting Liu Qingge by taking a promising, fluffy-looking child on the day to pick new disciples. Though, Shen Yuan starts trailing over to Bai Zhan to go stare at the child, and in turn, Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge end up spending more time around each other...gross.

"Aaa Jiu-ge, don't be so shy. You clearly brought that Thousand Silver Teardrop Tea to help Qingge-ge through his bottleneck. Why act like this, ah? You're so hopeless. I suppose this cat will have to keep you company forever. Haaah."

Well, there are times he mildly wished A'Yuan would shut up. But his thoughts do end up getting the other peak lords to relax more around him.

Liu Qingge, having heard the cat's thoughts time after time, starts talking to Shen Qingqiu and treating him better. Repulsive. Do it more.

--

Anyway, I just thought this would be cute.

[mr-kayser]

can thy ask for more static vanity pleading face emoji

I have so much in the oven rn... but for now have dis!

[ruby-static]

Dude caught me taking a screenshot, I'm cooked-

[mister-nibbs]

doodle

[starflungwaddledee]

*ahem* *cracks knuckles* *rolls shoulders* *taps mic*

Galastruck.

and i promise i’ll write 'i love you' with my fingers on your sleeping hand and when that fox howls i’ll howl with it in its cries i’ll find an end

🩸 happy valentine's day! 🩸

*✩˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ valentines shipaganza masterpost ✩˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ⋆˙⟡

static images for the above animation!

[terrestrialnoob]

Robert Hawkins sat at the kitchen table, cutting out a news story for the slowly growing binder beside him. The headline read "Local Heroes Static and Gear Team Up with Two New Friends to Defeat Concrete Menace". Just as he got the cutout safely into a sleeve, he heard the front door open.

"Anybody home?" Virgil's voice called.

"In the kitchen."

Soon enough, Virgil was there with two people following behind him that Robert didn't recognize, but could guess the identities of. One was a little shorter than Virgil, a white boy with black hair and blue eyes who looked dead on his feet and desperate to cover that fact. He had the jumpy nervousness of a kid scared of any and all adults. The other was a little taller than Virgil, tan skin, black hair, and sharp green eyes. He looked at everything around him with disinterest, but Robert felt the boy was astounded by how mundane the home was.

"Sharon home?" His son asked.

"She's out with friends." He answered honestly.

"Cool," Virgil said, and then to the horror of the white kid, "This is Danny and Damian, they're some superhero friends of mine."

"You're dad knows?" Danny asked, his hand moving as if to grab Virgil and pull him away - a protective gesture, not meant to offend.

"Not everyone has villain parents, Fenton." Damian said, then stepped forward and almost too respectfully addressed Robert with a small bow. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hawkins."

"Ye- yeah." Danny feebly agreed.

"Don't worry, my pops is cool with heroes and all that." Virgil reassured then explained, "They're going to hang out here for a little while, Richie kinda wrecked the station when his tinkering got out of hand."

"I told him not to plug the ecto-battery directly into anything he didn't want coming to life." Danny commented.

"So, we're just going to hang out while he fixes that, then we'll get back to work."

Robert nodded and smiled, "Don't push yourselves too hard, take all the rest you need. That goes for Richie too."

Virgil beamed at him, "Thanks Pops! we'll be upstairs."

"Let me know if you need anything," Robert called as his son and his new friends left. He pulled out his phone and looked up what kind of heroes he just let in his home and try to find those parents he was going to have words with should they ever meet.

[fluentmoviequoter]

bang, baby

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!metahuman!reader (characterization up to you!)

Summary: After you move to Dakota City from Gotham, you find yourself dealing with metahumans and vigilantes yet again. Dick Grayson comes to check on you after an explosion and gets a surprising glimpse into your mind.

Warnings: fluff, very brief angst, spoilers/references to Static Shock, the entire Batfamily, people trash talking Gotham

Word Count: 5.5k+ words

Masterlist | DC/Dick Grayson Masterlist | Request Info

“Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Hawkins,” you say over the phone. “I look forward to working with you and the people of Dakota.”

“I’m excited to see what you’ll bring to the center,” Robert Hawkins, the man in charge of Freeman Community Center, replies. “Dakota will certainly be a change from Gotham, but I trust you’ll adjust nicely.”

“Is that your polite way of saying that I won’t have to deal with Joker and Scarecrow anymore?” you joke.

Mr. Hawkins laughs but doesn’t deny it. It is no secret that Gotham has its downsides, but it’s been your home, it’s where you met your best friend, the people who have become your family. Dakota offers new opportunities and a viable way to help people in need, rather than sitting behind a computer while vigilantes do the heavy lifting.

“I’ll see you Monday morning, Mr. Hawkins.”

“See you Monday. Travel safe.”

The call disconnects, and you sit back and sigh. Your apartment has been packed up, and most of your belongings shipped to the small bungalow you rented on the outskirts of Dakota. The community center provides exactly what you want, a hands-on role in helping the next generation. Yet, as you look at the picture of Dick Grayson on your lock screen, you know that you’re leaving things behind, too.

“I miss you,” you whisper as your screen goes dark.

You’ve been friends with Dick Grayson for as long as you can remember; you stayed close after he moved to Blüdhaven to escape Batman’s shadow and a destiny he didn’t want. He’s supported you every step of the way, completely in favor of you doing something good for the children of Dakota. But there’s a nagging feeling that leaving him so far behind will be impossible.

Your first day in Dakota passes in a blur of unpacking and desperately avoiding thinking about Dick until you’re settled. As you collapse onto your new couch, only twelve hours before your first day at the community center, you close your eyes and try to relax. Mr. Hawkins asked you to come in before the center opens to tour the facility and get acquainted with everything.

“It’s a great facility, Mr. Hawkins,” you say as he leads you back to your office.

“Please call me Robert, Bob, anything except Mr. Hawkins,” he responds. “Here’s your door. We’ll get your name up here soon.”

“No rush; putting names on doors is the least of your worries.”

“My son Virgil is stopping by on his way to school and I think he’ll agree with me that having another full-time employee is deserving of her name on the door.”

You smile and look around the bare office. There’s a desk, a bookcase, and a file cabinet against plain tan walls. The room is begging for not only an occupant, but a personality and a welcoming feel for the people who rely on the center.

“Feel free to put your own touches, whatever you want to do with the space.”

“Thank you, Mr.- Robert.”

“Better,” he applauds.

“Pops!” someone yells.

“That would be my son,” Robert sighs. “In here, Virg!”

“Pops, I’m asking Frieda-“ Virgil stops when he sees you and greets, “Hey.”

“Nice to meet you, Virgil,” you say, offering your hand. “Your dad’s told me some great things about you.”

“You moved here from Gotham?” he asks.

“I did. It’s sunnier here.”

“Safer, too.”

“Thanks in no small part to your dad, I’m sure.”

“As much as I’m enjoying this,” Robert begins.

“Do you know Batman?” Virgil asks, ignoring his dad.

“Can you keep a secret?” you whisper. Virgil nods quickly, and you say, “I’ve met all the bats and birds.”

“No way!”

“Precisely,” you say with a wink. “Between me and you?”

“For sure. Welcome to Dakota!”

“Virgil,” Robert calls. “Be good today.”

“Every day, pops! I’m good every day!”

As Virgil turns and exits the center, you shake your head. He reminds you of some of the previously mentioned bats when they were his age.

“He’s a good kid,” Robert muses. “But since his mom passed, I feel like I’ve had to remind him of that more often.”

“It’s hard,” you agree. “Losing a parent like that can make it too easy to lose sight of who you are. Virgil’s lucky to have you. All the kids here are.”

“You have to say that,” Robert jokes. “You’re from Gotham.”

The Freeman Community Center is relatively quiet on your first day, giving you time to remember where everything is, put some personal touches on your office, and figure out how to use the computer. It isn’t Wayne tech, but the outdated operating system isn’t easier to use. The phone on your desk rings later in the afternoon, and your brows pinch as you pick it up.

“Freeman Community Center on Dakota’s Ferris Row,” you begin, reading the printout of frequent questions and information Mr. Hawkins left you. “How can I-“

“We keep secrets, right?”

You turn away from the open door and whisper, “Virgil?”

“Yes or no?” he presses, his voice high and urgent.

“Virgil, that depends entirely on what you’re about to tell me.”

“I just- I need help, and my pops won’t understand.”

“What happened?”

“He always says I’m smart and asks me not to prove him wrong… what if someone else makes me?”

“Who?”

“Forget it,” Virgil decides.

“No, listen to me. I’ve been exactly where you are. It’s a tight spot but it’s not an impossible one.”

“I told my dad it was a football injury; if he finds out I even got near a gang… I can’t hurt him, so I have to do this alone.”

“Be careful, Virgil.” You hesitate before you add, “If you need anything…”

“Thanks, Gotham.”

You huff a laugh and reply, “No problem, Dakota.”

As you end the call, you notice a handwritten note from Mr. Hawkins at the bottom of the paper. It mentions gangs, the letter F, and someone named Wade.

“What have you gotten yourself into, Virgil?” you mumble.

Your bungalow is within walking distance of the center and the docks. The house is nice, safe, but is quiet enough that your Gotham-bred mind is uncomfortable. Your city never sleeps, coming to life after the streetlights come on, but Dakota is on a schedule that makes it impossible for you to ignore the silence. Flipping through channels, you try to find something to distract you, and when a news crew discussing Gotham pops up, you frown. It’s 600 miles to Gotham; there shouldn’t be a signal to broadcast Gotham City news.

“-Joker toxin dosing just last night,” the news anchor continues. “Aren’t you glad you aren’t in Gotham, Deb?”

“I sure am, Mike. Back in hometown news, Dakota residents have noticed an increase in traffic on-“

You turn the television off and check your phone. Jason texted you about the Joker toxin incident last night; several factory workers had been hospitalized, but the toxin was contained, and no one you know was affected. It was a relief, but your deep worry of not knowing when something else happens remains.

Your finger hovers over Dick’s contact. It’s been several days since you spoke to him, but if anything can make you homesick, it would be him. The sudden sound of helicopters flying over your house keeps you from texting him. You walk to the large window in your living room and see police choppers hovering with their spotlights pointed at the dock.

“Freeze!” someone demands over a speaker. “You are in a restricted area. Drop all weapons and step into the open.”

Gunshots echo as you turn the television back on to watch the helicopter footage. The boys at the docks look to be about Virgil’s age. A gang, you realize.

“No,” you whisper, rushing toward the front door.

As you near the road that leads you directly to the docks, an officer fires a nonlethal round from one of the helicopters. The noise is louder than it should be, pushing you backward as you cover your ears. It gets worse, however, when you notice the purple mist that covers the docks immediately after.

“Virgil,” you call, launching into a run.

Whoever is present needs help, but if Virgil is there, you must ensure he’s okay. As you near the fence on the east side of the docks, you slow. Virgil is climbing out of the secured part of the docks while police officers in gas masks are gathering the rest of the teenagers inside.

“What happened?” you ask.

Virgil looks at you before he falls off the fence and lands with an audible thud. You check his pulse and shake your head. He’s alive, breathing, and seems fine other than being unconscious. Carefully, you pull him up and thank Bruce for letting you train with vigilantes so often.

“I’ll get you home but I’m making you promise never to do this again,” you mumble.

You refuse to open your eyes the following morning despite your ringing phone. Blindly, you feel around your bed and nightstand until you find it.

“Hello?” you ask against your pillow.

“You are not gonna believe this, Gotham! Meet me at the auto junkyard. Do you know where that is?”

“Yeah,” you answer. It isn’t until after Virgil hangs up that you ask, “Why?”

When you reach the junkyard, you notice a blond boy with a green sweater wandering aimlessly. There’s a picture of him on Mr. Hawkins’ desk, and you think back to your tour as you try to remember his name.

“Richie?” you try.

He spins quickly and takes a step back. “Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of Virgil’s. He told me to meet him here,” you answer.

“Yeah, me too.” Richie sighs and murmurs, “I’m worrying about his butt and he’s rushing me off the phone and…”

“Whoa,” you whisper as Richie yells.

Before you, Virgil stands atop a stack of junk cars as several rise and move to other piles. He moves his hands, and you watch his face as this new power courses through him.

“Tell me that’s not cool!” Virgil exclaims.

“How the heck did you-“ Richie begins.

“There was an explosion last night. There was this gas. It changed me, Richie. Check it out!”

You watch Virgil as pink sparks fly from his hands to wrap around the hood of the car. It flies up, and Virgil balances on top as it circles the junkyard.

“No more asking my pops to borrow his car, dude!”

“V-man, you could be a superhero!” Richie yells excitedly.

“I could, couldn’t I!”

“Virgil!” you warn just before he crashes.

You walk to his side as Richie pulls him up and begins brainstorming ideas for protective gear. Looking into his eyes, you try to determine what other effects the gas may have had on him or anyone else.

“What?” Virgil asks. You tilt your head, and Virgil murmurs, “Oh.”

“What?” Richie repeats. “What oh?”

“I don’t like that look, Gotham.”

“And I don’t like seeing people react to airborne mutagens,” you reply. “Does your dad know?”

“No! And he doesn’t need to. Right?”

“I won’t tell him, but…”

“You’ll help me? You know other heroes.”

Richie looks between you and Virgil, and you sigh before you agree, “Yeah, I’ll help. But if I notice one thing that seems off, I’m getting you real help.”

“Deal, Gotham,” Virgil says, extending his hand.

“I’m not shaking your hand, Static.”

Richie and Virgil gasp together, and you roll your eyes at the realization that you just named another vigilante hero.

“Good morning,” Dick greets with a smile, and Haley tucked under his arm. “Beautiful day isn’t it?”

“What do you want?” Jason replies, blocking the door.

Dick sighs. “Why can’t you ever play along?”

“What do you want?”

“Fine, fine. Can you watch Haley for a few days?”

Jason looks at Haley, whose tail wags at his attention. “Where are you going?”

“Dakota. There was an explosion last night.”

“Yeah, the weird purple gas, I saw. She would’ve called if something happened.”

“She hasn’t called at all,” Dick admits softly. “I’m just worried.”

“I texted her after Joker dosed the warehouse workers. She was fine then.” Jason opens the door and takes Haley. He adds, “But I get it. Be careful.”

“Thank you. I owe you one.”

“Just one?”

“I can start repayment with a hug,” Dick offers, spreading his arms.

He blinks as the door slams in his face. His phone buzzes with an update on the citizens of Dakota, and he runs to his bike so fast he nearly trips over it.

“Bruce Wayne. Leave a message.”

“Bruce, something happened. I’m going to the hospital now to look into it. Dakota might be a new breeding ground for metahumans. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

You save the voicemail as you enter the hospital. The emergency room is an open area to your left, and it is at maximum capacity.

“It’s getting worse,” a nurse says. “They keep mutating.”

You discreetly look through the first door and gasp. An explosion down the hall draws the attention of doctors, nurses, and patients, but you walk the other way. You have to find Virgil and fill in Bruce, in that order. On your way out, you snatch a newspaper from the stand by the door.

In your office at the center, you read the front page several times. The story isn’t surprising, but you know it is nowhere near finished.

“Bang baby,” you read from the newspaper. “Dakota’s better than Gotham, huh?”

You look up when Mr. Hawkins knocks on your door. “Join my family for dinner? It’s the least I can offer after the unsavory welcome you’ve gotten.”

“Oh, there’s no need. Your family deserves your time.”

“We eat at six. The address is in my contact. See you then!” Robert calls over his shoulder.

You drop your head and nod to no one. “See you then,” you reply weakly.

“Everywhere you look there’s another Bang Baby setting fires, wrecking buildings, scaring everybody, and no one’s doing anything about it,” Mr. Hawkins says at dinner.

“Well, what about that kid they were talking about on the news?” Sharon asks. “What’s his name? Static. He’s doing something, isn’t he?”

“Didn’t you hear what happened today? He got beat. Bad. Besides, he’s probably a Bang Baby, too.”

“If he is, he’s one of the few good ones.”

“Huh. For now.”

“What’s that mean?” Virgil demands.

“Nobody knows anything about these metahumans. What if Static keeps changing? What if he turns into some kind of monster? Nobody knows. Not even Static himself.”

“He’s willing to fight, though,” you point out. When all three Hawkins turn their attention to you, you clear your throat and explain, “He’s not mutating yet, like the rest of them, so it seems likely he never will. Plus, if he’s willing to fight the other Bang Babies, win, lose, or tie, I think he’d fight against any change he didn’t agree with.”

“That’s- I hadn’t considered it that way,” Mr. Hawkins admits. “I suppose you have a point. Fighters have something to fight for. Right, Virgil?”

Virgil smiles at you as he agrees, “Right.”

After dinner, Virgil walks you out and stops on the sidewalk. “You really think I won’t mutate?”

“Virg, the ones who are already mutating were probably closer to the explosion, exposed to more gas, there’s no way to know for sure. If you do, and I think it’s a big if, I’d anticipate it would be a slower, more manageable change. Something you can handle, no problem.”

“And you’ll help?”

You smile, but someone behind you answers, “That’s what she does best.”

Virgil looks over your shoulder, but you spin, your eyes widening as you run toward him.

“Dick!” you greet happily, throwing your arms over his shoulders as he catches you.

“I saw the explosion and was worried something happened to you. I should have known you were helping a young hero.”

“Hero?” Virgil repeats.

Dick looks at you as you move to his side, and you smile before you turn to Virgil. “I’ve been considered a sidekick for a very long time. Invisible but always there. Something you should remember, Virg.”

“I will. Nice to meet you…”

“Dick Grayson,” Dick introduces himself. “I take it you’re Virgil Hawkins.”

“Shake his hand,” you encourage.

“Why did you say it like that?” Dick demands, pulling his hand behind his back.

“Just do it.”

Dick reaches his hand out carefully, and Virgil shakes it without releasing any static electricity. You nod and wave to Virgil as he returns to his house.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” you tell Dick. “I thought I’d want to come back if I talked to you.”

“What happened?”

You glance back at Virgil’s house and decide, “It’s not my story to tell. What I do know is that there are a lot of metahumans in Dakota, and most of them are not good.”

“Did you tell Bruce?”

“I left a message. They- I just don’t know what to do.”

“What you came here to do. Help the people who need it most.”

“The center is for the poor, homeless, doomed narrative people, Dick, not metahumans.”

Dick lays his hands on your shoulders and smiles. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

“How long are you staying?”

Dick smiles and helps you onto his bike before he answers, “As long as I need to. I’ll do whatever I can, but I’ll also keep Bruce off your back. He’ll want to know everything, but your focus needs to be here.”

“Thank you.”

“Static,” Dick says. “That’s why you wanted me to shake his hand.”

“He’s gotten much better. But don’t tell him I told you anything.”

“You’ve been protecting my secret identity for over a decade, your secret’s safe with me.”

While Dick stays at your house and tells Bruce everything he’s found out about the explosion and metahumans, you accompany Mr. Hawkins to a meeting at city hall. Despite your best efforts to convince him otherwise, he approaches the podium to ask what the city’s leaders are doing about the Bang Babies.

“Mr. Hawkins, the topic of today’s meeting is budget appropriations,” a woman on the board replies. “There will be a general meeting next month and-“

“This can’t wait a month!” Robert exclaims, hitting his fists against the podium top. “You’re our leader, we put our faith and trust in you when we elected you, but you seem to be forgetting that you serve us, we don’t serve you!”

As the crowd cheers, you lean toward Virgil.

“I’d hate to be on the other side of that,” you whisper. “But you know he’s not attacking you right? He’s just looking out for the greater good.”

“Sounds like your pops took some public speaking classes,” Richie muses.

“Nah,” Virgil replies, “he just gets lots of practice talking to me that way.”

“We all know the police have what’s left of the tanks the gas was in, so why haven’t they been able to trace the owner?” Robert asks.

“Someone’s working on that,” you tell Virgil.

“Batman?” he asks, wide-eyed at the idea.

“Maybe.” You look down at your phone and notice a message from Bruce. “Does the name Alva mean anything to you?” you ask Virgil.

He and Richie turn to each other, then smile at you. “It certainly does. Care to help us out with this one?”

“Better that than send you out alone.”

“Don’t lose him,” Richie instructs from your passenger seat.

“Rich, this isn’t my first time tailing a bad guy, just calm down,” you reply. “Virgil’s listening in on Alva and he’ll let us know about any changes.”

“Guys, Alva is sending someone else to wipe hard drives of mutagen formulas and shipping records,” Virgil says through Richie’s walkie-talkie. “He wants everything saved somewhere else so he can start over.”

“Where’s the lab?” you ask Richie.

“Take the next right,” he instructs. Virgil flies over you, and he amends, “Or just follow him.”

You pull the walkie-talkie from Richie and radio, “Be careful, Virg. We’re right behind you.”

“10-4,” he replies.

When you park behind Alva’s lab, Richie reaches for the door handle, but you stop him.

“We wait here,” you instruct. “If Virg needs help, I’ll go in.”

Several minutes later, after Richie has grown increasingly nervous and antsy, a window on the second floor shatters as Virgil flies out on a metal utility cart. You back out slowly and drive around the back of the building to meet Virgil. He did it alone, but that doesn’t mean he won’t have questions or concerns about how and what he did.

“This is everything?” you ask as you hold up the disc.

“Yep. Once the doctors see it, I’ll know if I can stop worrying,” he answers.

“Worrying?” Dick repeats.

“Virgil thinks he’s going to keep mutating like some of the other Bang Babies.”

“Don’t you think that would have happened by now?”

You gesture toward Dick to communicate, see? It’s the logical explanation, and you hope Virgil will see that now.

I missed you, you think as you look at Dick. His eyes are on you as Virgil and Richie theorize what data Alva saved. Dick stands and drops his eyes to your lips.

“Do that again,” he instructs.

“Do what again?” you ask.

“Just…” Dick trails off and places his hand on your shoulder as he leans toward you.

I knew talking to you would make me homesick.

“How close did you get to that mutagen gas?” Dick inquires.

“I don’t know,” you answer, shrugging. “To the fence, so ten yards from the purple cloud, maybe?”

“You were that close to the gas zone, and you didn’t tell me?” Dick asks as he steps back. “We’re leaving.”

“What? Why?” you inquire as Virgil begins arguing against you leaving. “Dick, I can’t leave!”

“You just talked to me without opening your mouth!” he exclaims, tossing his jacket to you. “Something happened to you, and I’m not going to sit around and wait to find out if it gets worse.”

“He didn’t care if I got worse,” Virgil murmurs to Richie.

He’s protective, you think as you glance toward him.

“Whoa! Get your voice out of my head.”

“I’m not trying to do it,” you defend. “What can you hear?”

“Your thoughts, I think,” Dick answers. “I highly doubt you wanted me to hear it.”

“One day,” you tell him, convinced by the idea that you could accidentally share something with someone you trust less. “You have one day to run the tests and then I’m coming back. I can’t leave now, Dick.”

“Fine. We’ll be back. If you need anything, call her.” He passes a card to Virgil and reluctantly adds, “Or him.”

“This is- there’s a-“ Virgil stutters.

“That’s a bat!” Richie exclaims. “Is this Batman’s number?”

“Yes, and if you call him for anything short of an emergency, he will be very mad.”

“Oh, of course,” Virgil agrees. “Good luck.”

“Hey,” you call, looking back. “Whatever answers I get help you, too. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and it’ll work out.”

“You got it, Gotham.”

“Stay you, Static.”

As you follow Dick to his motorcycle, you try to keep your thoughts calm and meaningful. He turns toward you and offers you a helmet, but he lays his hand against your cheek before you can put the helmet on.

“Relax,” he says. “I won’t listen.”

“I don’t want to say – think - something I shouldn’t,” you mumble.

“It’s me. Think whatever you want.”

“Promise not to get scared away if I let a secret slip?”

Dick smiles as he says, “I promise. You’re stuck with me… like static.”

“I don’t see any physical effects of the gas,” Bruce declares. “But you’re clearly telepathic.”

“Great,” you grumble. “Known for my ability to keep secrets and one little explosion opens my brain up to everyone.”

“Quite the opposite,” Bruce corrects. “It seems to me that only people you trust have been able to hear your thoughts, and it’s only active thoughts at this point. With practice, I see no reason you couldn’t gain control and be able to both send and receive message telepathically.”

“How do I practice that?”

“Intentional telepathy. Send thoughts to people rather than speaking, try to get in the head of someone you trust.”

You nod and purse your lips. Dick wants to know what you’re thinking, and, of course, it’s not clear this time.

“You want me to stay, don’t you?” you ask.

“Pure-hearted metahumans are hard to come by. There are more than enough villains and crooks in Gotham who would stop picking fights once a telepath was involved,” Bruce points out. “I’d love to have you with us.”

“I… I want to go back to Dakota. Virgil needs my help and all of those metahumans are just as lost and scared as I am. The difference is that they’re dangerous in their fear. But I know that Gotham needs all the help it can get, too.”

You look to Dick, but he shakes his head and says, “I’m not telling you want to do. Whatever you decide, I’m with you.”

“I’m going back to Dakota,” you declare. “Thank you, Bruce.”

“Of course. You know where to find me if you need anything else or want to strike fear into the hearts of Gotham’s criminals.”

Yet you didn’t answer your phone, you think pointedly.

Bruce shakes his head as the thought enters his mind, and you smile at how easy it is. As you follow Dick out of the Batcave, you know that the road ahead of you won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.

“I’ll call this time,” you promise as Dick prepares to return to Blüdhaven. “Thanks for everything, Dick.”

“Any time. Thanks for the glimpse into your mind,” Dick replies, then winks.

“It was never for Gotham. The homesick feeling.”

“What was it for?”

“I think you know, Boy Wonder.”

Dick shakes his head as he slides his helmet over his hair. “I’ll call if you don’t,” he threatens.

“Understood, Nightwing, sir.”

Dick waves as he pulls away from your house. That homesick feeling settles below your concern for Virgil and yourself, and you push it down further as you get ready for work. The community center needs you first.

“Good morning, Robert,” you greet as you enter.

“Good morning. How was your trip to Gotham? I wish you’d taken up my offer to stay longer,” he replies.

“It was good. I refuse to leave you any longer than necessary, especially since I’ve only been here a week.”

“Community, family, it’s what we do here.”

You smile and accept a hot drink from Robert before you walk to your office. Several meetings with female students are on your calendar this afternoon, and you’ve set aside two hours to plan a basketball game fundraiser. The busy day should keep your mind off of Dick, and as long as you keep your thoughts in your own head, it should be a nice return to work.

“Gotham!” Richie yells.

You look up from the paper in your hand and frown. Richie slides to a stop, out of breath, as he points toward the docks.

“Bang Babies, like, all of them,” he pants. “Virg can’t hold ‘em.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s saying. Virgil is alone against a multitude of metahumans with no backup. At least until you arrive. You usher Richie into your car and speed to the entrance of the docks.

“Wait!” Richie yells. “This is for you.”

He hands you a metal case, and you open it quickly. There’s a gray spandex suit covered with black embroidery that you think is meant to be EEG results.

“Brain waves?” you ask, looking at Richie.

 “I know you don’t have a name yet, but Virg and I were messing around and… it should fit.”

You smile and thank Richie before you run into a nearby outbuilding and pull it on. It fits well, though you’re not surprised that Virgil and Richie managed it. As you move through the buildings and shipments surrounding the docks, you count over twenty Bang Babies and see Virgil struggling to hold off at least ten more.

You close your eyes and think about the people you love. Telepathically, you call out – or try to call out – Batman, we need backup in Dakota. The docks. Send everyone you can spare. I love you all.

After adding the last part about loving them, just in case, you jump into the fight. Hotstreak is closest to Virgil, and you invade his mind with thoughts of icebergs and cold water splashing on him. He flinches back as if the water extinguished his flames, and you turn your attention to the next person.

“Is that Batman?” one of the Bang Babies yells.

You don’t turn, focusing on Boom, a metahuman who can generate sonic waves. Once he’s disoriented, Static moves in and pushes him into a shipping container where his power can be contained.

“You called in backup?” Virgil asks.

“I didn’t think they’d come,” you defend.

“Way to have faith in us!” Red Hood yells as he dodges a punch.

Robin tuts behind him, wielding a katana. “You are family, or so they keep telling me.”

“Ebon!” Richie yells from the other side of the fence. “Don’t let him get away, Static!”

“I’ve got Ebon!” you announce. “Static, Replay!”

Johnny Morrow waves at Robin and then splits into several clones of himself.

“I’ve had so much coffee that I was already seeing two of you,” Red Robin taunts. “Come at me, one kid wonder.”

“Are you chasing shadows?” Nightwing asks as he falls into step with you, running toward the lone streetlight over the docks.

“Ebon can slip into the shadows, he can teleport, but if I can see him, I can stop him.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mostly,” you answer after several steps. “Bruce brought the whole family, I see.”

“You sent the message to all of us,” Dick says. “We all boom tubed here.”

“Oh. I’ve got this, go help the others. We’re outnumbered.”

“Be careful!”

Dick turns and pulls his Escrima sticks from their position on his back and taps them together as he moves toward Leech.

“Try to fight without power!” Leech bellows.

“Sorry… no superpowers for you to turn off,” Dick taunts with a smile.

You tune out the sound of the fight behind you as you search for Ebon. Just ahead of you, you can sense someone thinking.

Ebon, you call telepathically. Talon made you sound so scary. I wasn’t expecting you to run from a fight.

He doesn’t reply or move, but you can sense his discomfort with having another voice in his mind.

Since I’m here and you’re a bad host, maybe I should look around for myself.

You navigate to one of his memories, watching in your mind as he fought a Bang Baby. He won, so you dig for another. When you reach a fight from the day after the explosion, Ebon slings his head to the side.

That won’t work, I’m in your mind, not on your head, you explain. Unless you’re ready to come out and face me like a man. Or do you think it’ll go as well as the last time you fought a girl? Her memories are much different than yours.

Ebon launches out of the shadows, and you fill his mind with an image of falling. He crashes to the ground, and Virgil binds him with looping static.

“Try teleporting with the entire dock stuck to your back,” Virgil says.

“How many more?” you ask.

“None. Your, uh, friends are very efficient.”

“Did you hear that?” Red Robin asks. “He called us your friends.”

“If your need for aid has been met, I’d like to return home to Titus,” Robin adds.

“Yeah, yeah,” you reply. “Thank you all, for everything. I meant what I said.”

“We know,” Red Hood assures. “See you at family dinner? We know boom tubes work here now, so no excuse!”

“I’ll be there,” you promise.

“Nice work,” Batman applauds. “You, too, Static. Hold on to that card you have.”

“Yes, sir, thank you, sir,” Virgil replies.

The boom tube opens behind them, and they step in one after the next. When it closes, you turn and high-five Virgil. He smiles at something over your shoulder before he runs toward Richie to relive every glorious moment. Dick walks toward you, visible now that Virgil isn’t between you.

“I thought you left,” you say, tilting your head to the side.

Dick looks down at your new suit and exhales dramatically. “Bang, baby.”

You laugh and push your hands against his chest, but instead of shoving him backward, you grip his suit and pull him toward you. His lips meet yours, and fireworks explode overhead. You know that they’re real, Virgil’s doing, but you don’t care about that or anything else as Dick wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you.

You’ve dreamed of this moment for years, thought of it daily since Dick left Gotham, and it’s everything you dreamed it would be. Breathless, you pull back and smile at Dick as he removes his domino mask. You only have a moment before you must leave, make room for the police to take the most dangerous of the Bang Babies in. But, in that moment you have left, you look at Dick and think…

Bang, baby, indeed.

He pulls you close and leads you away from the docks. You both ignore the sirens approaching behind you as you get in your car and drive in the dark to your house.

“It’s a nice suit,” Dick mentions after you change out of it.

“Shut up,” you murmur. “It wasn’t my idea.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“Thank you for coming.”

“You know I always will. I’ve been homesick without you, too.”

You lean in to kiss Dick again, and just before your lips meet, you think, I love you, Dick Grayson.

[kolechiart]

* while it exists as meta commentary on the failures of the schooling system something about this exchange being with nimrod has stuck with me. being from a bygone era he too is different from his peers. his struggle to adapt is acknowledged yet in the same breath he is denied accommodation. the second he's unable to preform what is expected of him it's deemed a personal failing, that he's just too old, too broken and such he's punished. he's thrown in the deep end and then blamed for drowning and so does nimrod realise the irony of it all? because i think he does and i think that's exactly why he said it.

[prince-liest]

Vox's priorities are SO intact.

[scribblestatic]

Masterpost Next

I read this post by @/diushek and I have been inspired.

EDIT: IT'S THIS POST BY @deikshen, their username changed!

Their post and mine aren't really all that related save for parts of the premise, but still, I'm thankful for the inspiration so I'd like them to get attention.

--

Shen Yuan as a spider demon(?).

In his last life, since he had a lot of free time, he, of course, dove headfirst into webnovels. But, he also grew up fixing his little sister's toys and had found out that he enjoys sewing. He was rather sickly, so it wasn't like he had much else to do.

So, he learned how to fix dolls, then design clothes for dolls. Then, he designed and made a dress for his meimei to wear for a school play, and he's spiraled out of control since.

He especially went wild while reading PIDW. Airplane was so neglectful while describing clothes, so of course, he had to design what he thought they would look like!! And, if it just so happened people would spend money to buy his outfits for their professional make and relative historical accuracy, sure!

Then PIDW ends terribly, Shen Yuan writes his last hate post, and he essentially dies from rage (his already weak heart couldn't beat properly in the end).

And the next time he's aware of himself, he's sitting neatly in the center of a well-woven web.

He can't see very well, but he can feel vibrations all over the place. He'd thought to put on his glasses, but couldn't seem to...put them on. Somehow, he knew they weren't around.

He also knows that he's quite terribly hungry.

So, he doesn't think twice when he feels a vibration in his web and he crawls over to a struggling creature. He can feel the qi coming from it, whatever it is. But that doesn't matter for now. It's just food.

And he's hungry.

So he injected his prey and began to slurp up the remains.

This continues for an indeterminate amount of time. Making webs, catching and consuming prey, moving to new areas when he decided the area was getting too crowded or was unsuitable. The more plants he finds, the more he appreciates the environment, and he tends to stick around them longer until he must move.

A little ticking clock in the back of his head seems to tell him he should be dead. That his life was extending beyond its usual limits.

However, that wasn't really something he cared too much about. Instead, if he wasn't trying to sate his deep, nearly endless hunger, there wasn't much else he cared to do. Not even the thought of reproducing enticed him.

Though, a part of him was bored. If he had something to read, that would be nice, but he had nothing. So, he'd just have to mull over a story he remembers from somewhere, a hateful little thing that, despite all its faults and failures, drags back into his mind once more.

At least playing around with plants helped a bit, moving the seeds and testing the soil with thin limbs and senses beyond anything a human has.

Some time later, he finds a little cavern with strong qi. He decides that would be nice to stay in since the plants around it are plentiful and full of energy, and he makes it his home. He connects the various webs he makes to his home web, able to feel the pull and location of each web to hunt, capture, and take it back to a much safer, more secure place.

He finds his mind becoming a bit clearer the longer he stays there. Eventually, he even finds that his eyesight is getting better as well. Although he was perfectly fine feeling through vibrations, the colors around him are quite interesting as well.

Eventually, one day, he feels something pull on one of his webs. As usual, he goes out to wrap it up. But, as he approaches his prey, it calls out to him.

"Wait! Wait! Please spare me!!"

Shen Yuan pauses. If he tries to focus his vision a bit...the form of this prey looks a bit human, doesn't it? Huh. When did humans get so small? He could've sworn they were bigger before.

"Please, I just... I just wanted the fruit!!"

The fruit...ah. Yes, he'd included a few nearby trees in his web at some point. Hadn't they just been little branches? Hm. Time sure does fly.

Shen Yuan focuses his blurry vision on the being in his web. Indeed, it seems to be human. A man, if he recalls...yes. A grown human male.

Humans... He thinks of them neutrally. Humans are not exclusively good or evil, but some tend to act more one way or another. In the end, they're just another animal trying to survive and live well.

However, that shouldn't come at the expense of stealing his fruit! He eats those because they're tasty! He brought the seeds with him when he moved from his last place and he planted them himself. They're his plants...his trees! No one else had the right to take from it.

Apparently, he lets some of this thought out, a whithery, faint hiss singing from between his fangs.

"Thieeeef..."

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Please, let me go, and I won't come here ever again!"

Hmmh. Not likely. If a human came this far, then it was possible there was some sort of issue with their own food. Couldn't the humans tell that he owned this area? Well...he did hide his webs well so prey could fall into his traps.

Even so, he doesn't think there's a village or anything close to this place, so this human was likely desperate enough to come out and pursue the fruit from his trees to eat. What was more likely was that the human would wail about his presence and bring trouble back with him.

So, he had a few options.

1. Release the human foolishly and wait for them to encroach on his domain.

2. Eat the human, then wait to see if anyone would come looking for him. This would possibly lead to more problems.

3. Let the human take a fruit, to make them indebted to him...but he can't just do that out of kindness. Humans could try to take advantage of him, or maybe hunt him anyway.

4...

Equivalent exchange. Bartering. If he sets this up as something where he and the humans mutually benefit while keeping the humans indebted to him, perhaps they would be less likely to see him negatively. They would also maintain a healthy fear of him.

Goodness, he was coming up with such good ideas just from encountering a single human. Perhaps associating with them a little wouldn't be so bad.

"...Free you. Fruit...but. Paaaay..."

The man trembled in his web. It was getting rather difficult to resist eating him. Such squirming enticed his senses.

"P-Pay? Pay how??"

"...Stoooory."

The man stumbles and mutters, but eventually, he starts telling a story from his village. It's just some sort of child's tale.

Even so, it's not boring.

"Hmm... Poor quality..."

The man starts pleading again as he approaches, but his pleas quiet as he, instead of wrapping him up, starts untangling the human.

"The main character...no personalityyy. Milquetoast. The princess. Even more flat. No motivation. Cookie-cutter character. The bear. Foolish. No protective instiiiinct. Elementary. 2/10."

He ends his critique while placing a webbed bag of fruit in the man's hands.

"Begone."

The human obeys.

And just as Shen Yuan expected, that same web triggers just a few days later.

This time, it's a human female. She's not as tangled in the web as the man was, having stopped fighting as much early on.

She has two heartbeats, but is terribly thin. The human male had been quite thin as well. Why?

"Lord Spider, this lowly woman is sorry... Please, may this one...tell you a story?"

"Hmm..."

Shen Yuan settles down, curling his limbs close, and waits.

She tells a story that's better than the one the male told him. Her heart skips and jumps at points, especially when the main character—a woman this time—experiences hardship. This is quite clearly a story close to her heart.

It's full off happiness and grief. A marriage collapsing from the death of her lover, and a family who refused to support her for being barren. She fights and fights and fights, and carves a place for herself. Just when she thinks she's found happiness, a tragedy strikes. A famine. And she, having exhausted everything she had, dies.

"Hmm... Interesting. Bold protagonist. Hardyyyy. Faces a dogfight world. Should ask for heeeelp. Husband. Tragic. Death too soooon. Loved the main character. Left her behind. Family. Cruuuuel. Mindless. Women are not jusssst for breeding.

"Hmm. 7/10. Too sad, realistic still."

He adds some grasses with wisps of qi coming from it to her bundle.

"What is this?" she asks.

"For the baaaaaby."

She seems to startle at that, though he's not sure why.

"...Thanking Lord Spider."

She leaves before he has to tell her to go.

...

After that, humans become a regular enough visitor that he leaves a string with leaves on the end for them to call for him. Surely, they're stuck getting caught in his webs. More importantly, he's tired of having to rearrange them every time. They really leave his webs a tangled mess.

As the season warms further, they come with more stories. Many are quite terrible and not worth his time. He gives them fruit regardless, because at least they have staved off his boredom.

They've decided on calling him Lulin Zhizhu (绿林之主 - lǜlín zhī zhǔ - Lord of the Green Forest). Or, simply, Zhizhu.

Apparently, his webs were keeping the villagers safe? The food he'd been catching had a taste for human flesh (not that he didn't, but still), so by eating, he had been helping them without intending to. That apparently made him more reverent to them, and they put more effort into their stories based on how he rated them.

Fan Zhenzhen (范蓁蓁 - Fàn Zhēnzhēn), the second human who told him a story, quickly became one of his favorites. She told the best stories, real ones, that brought back emotions he felt had been taken over by instinct for a long while. He wouldn't say he treated her better, but he did make sure to cultivate more of the grass for the child growing within her.

The humans steadily grew stronger and meatier...perhaps tastier, but he'd lose his stories if he ate them. Eventually, whatever blight affected their village abated a bit, and they could once again start growing their own food.

Instead of abandoning him, they brought him some of the food as an offering.

"Hmm...famine," he murmured, his way of speech having improved from socializing. "The sickness. Still in the fields."

"Sickness?" a farmer asked.

"Yes. The plants, victim to illness. They will not grow well." He leaves for a moment to get something. It seems they learned his habits, as they're still waiting when he returns. He drops another plant he cultivated within the realm of his webs. "Crush these. Spread them. The fields and the water."

The farmer and his offspring bow low to the ground. "Thanking Zhizhu for his wisdom!"

The offerings they bring after that show markable improvement, and the name they gave him sticks even harder.

Of course, they continue to tell him stories, as that's the most important thing they can give him. He becomes quite settled with hearing them speak and starts to absentmindedly weave little things related to the stories they tell him.

At this, Fan Zhenzhen approaches with another idea, her stomach rounding out with child.

"Zhizhu, this lowly one apologizes for being impertent. As the days grow colder, this feeble woman fears the chill of winter more than the hunger of famine. For her next story, may she instead receive some of your silk?"

"Silk...for clothes."

"Yes, if this lowly one may ask of Zhizhu."

"Hmm... Tell the story."

So she does. As with the others, it too delves into the life of the main character, who is now a powerful figure in her village for her ability to weave. Her weaving helped the villagers trust the nearby forest god, who was frightening but gracious, wild yet magnanimous. She talks about how the character was once sold by her family to be a maid elsewhere, and how she's learned to survive and come up to her current position.

As she does, Shen Yuan eyes her. The vibrations from her voice gives him a good view of her body and shape. He unconsciously, mindlessly, weaves a coat for her.

It's thin. Surely not enough to stave off winter's chill. So, when she finishes and he gives his rating, he gives her both the thread she requested and the thin coat.

It is, according to her, magnificently beautiful. In turn, Shen Yuan can't help but feel a little puff of pride in his abdomen.

---

Ah...this is getting longer than I meant lol

I'll make another post soon.

[staticstray]

if you guys use those random name generators regularly, you might have noticed they tend to spit out the same names over and over again, because they aren’t actually infinite, they just choose from a list. so here’s a little tip for finding real names that haven’t been overused (works best for modern names):

originally i was using wikipedia to look at random movies and steal from cast lists of names, but i figured out imdb has an advanced search option that lets you put in date and country of origin and gives you a whole list of films. you can look at the cast and crew and get actual names from real people (obviously mixing and matching first and last names for your characters). you can also choose other options to get more obscure movies to avoid running into big actor names.

like if your story takes place in the 80s in france, you can search these parameters and get a whole bunch of names of real french people from that time period. unfortunately this only works as far back as movies have been made, but it’s still pretty reliable and has a huge variety of movies from all over the world.

idk if anyone has ever suggested this before, but this what i have been doing for a long time and it’s really helpful! i’ll do this for like 30 minutes at a time and just collect a huge list of names i like for characters :)

[neon-catarina]

"i think im gonna actually stay motivated animating" cat says as he doesn't stay motivated animating

[mytvisonthefritz]

if you guys really loved me you would write top!reader mlm danny elfman smut

[abbysinterestsblog]

a rlllly huge post of hc's i have 4 static miku and the show she originated from.

[theconstantsidekick]

so tempted to write him into the static verse SO FUCKING TEMPTED