#thanks for reading if ya did

[saltedsnailstudio]

linocut on lokta paper

[regular-gnome]

6. I'm The Collector

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[mothwingwritings]

Can we have Ren/Fox (TPOF) and Mc with a child?Long after Fox decided to stay with MC, they both had a daughter (probably not something with consent and a bit of Stockholm syndrome).The daughter asks her mother how she got the scars and this makes MC have memories of post-traumatic stress.

I was so tickled by this ask that I started manically typing out a response for it nearly as soon as I saw it in my ask box (which at this point, was quite some time ago. Forgive me, I am a mess lul). I wrote the whole damn thing in a fit of passion, excited to release it into the world… But ultimately hated it and thought it was garbo, so I scrapped it and tried again. Wrote a second iteration and thought ‘hell yeah, this is it!!! Sick!’, but then I read it AND HATED THAT ONE TOO AAAHHH!!!

I rewrote this… so much…

But I never give up on my dreams, and you shouldn’t either! Persevere! Don’t give up on yourself! Here’s your daily motivation for the day! Keep writing even it makes you cry!!! :D

Anyway, so I wrote this third one, comprised of new stuff and the stuff I actually did like from the first two stabs, and it ended up being the one. Truly it is a Frankenstein of a fic lol. Regardless of all the reworking, I had a lot of fun writing this and enjoyed the prompt very much!!! I I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. :)

I’m sorry if the writing seems a tad too mature for the reader’s daughter in this, writing children isn’t my forte. ^^;

Due to the nature of this fic, IT IS 18+ ONLY!!! Thank you!

WARNINGS: Incessant mentions of abuse of all kinds for reader and mentions of physical abuse for her child!!! Reader is heavily scarred from said abuse and that’s a main theme in this fic so please avoid if that is upsetting to you. Also, though not the main focus, there are multiple mentions of child abuse in this fic, as well a part where reader goes off verbally on her child, so please be mindful of that as well! Other things of note: reader is a parent in this (which you can probably tell by the prev warning lol), reader getting hurt, blood, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, being held against your will/isolation, mentions of noncon, sad family stuff :(

Diminishing rays of afternoon light splayed through the open window of your quaint living room, casting a comforting orange glow over everything they touched. The light gave the environment an ethereal and nostalgic feel, wrapping you in peaceful warmth as the sun sunk lower and lower. The loveseat you occupied was plush and inviting, and a mug of your favorite tea stood at the ready on the small coffee table beside you, steadily cooling with help from the last hurrah of winter blowing in gently from the outside. Besides the slight chill, the wind brought with it the heavy scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a delightful precursor to the oncoming spring.

Relishing the rare moment of serenity, you couldn’t help but wish that all your days could be this lovely.

You smiled down at your daughter who sat perched in your lap, happily flipping through the newest gift she had acquired from her Father- a thick picture book full of bright illustrations highlighting various exotic animals. As it lay sprawled across her tiny lap, her chubby finger pointed out each animal she took an interest in, her high pitched voice chirping away as she explained what she liked about the creatures. She got particularly excited when she spotted the page full of foxes, jabbing at the red one feverishly as she exclaimed “its daddy!”

Spotting the foxes began her down a path of assigning an animal to not just herself, but you as well. She didn’t find it fair that only her father had kin in the animal world, even though you pointed out that she technically did as well by sharing half the man’s blood. Your revelation did little to deter her, she wanted something new, something just for herself, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found her perfect soul animal. So she continued on, scanning each page in earnest until she found a creature that suited her.

She ended up picking a bunny for herself, supplying you with a comprehensive reason as to why she chose it. As she explained in great length, skimping no details, you couldn’t help but hold back laughter. She spoke as if she were a professor teaching a class, and you did your best to keep a straight face as she yammered on with her shoddy reasoning, deep down knowing she only picked a rabbit because of how cute they are.

After she was done waxing poetic about bunnies, she continued scouring the book, coming to a halt once she reached the wild cat section. She stopped with a gasp, beaming up at you as she pressed her finger firmly against one of the images on the page.

“Mommy this one is you!”

Your eyes traveled to the picture she was rapidly tapping, “An African Wildcat, huh?” You smirked down at the little girl in amusement, “Why did you pick that one for me?”

“Because it looks just like you!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It looks like me? How so?”

“It has marks just like you do!”

Her innocuous words sent a chill up your spine. Eying the stripes that crossed the cat’s legs, you felt a great unease begin to overtake your body. Her reasoning was not lost on you, the cats coat did quite resemble the jagged scars that covered nearly every inch of your body, and just like the feline in her book, your limbs were the most prominent location of said ‘markings’. You quickly shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it further. In hopes of moving on from the subject, the outpouring of words that flew from your mouth were jumbled and messy.

“O-oh, I see,” you stuttered, clearing your throat to steady your voice, “well you certainly picked a cute animal for me! Thank you baby, it was a good choice.”

She smiled at you innocently, a gesture that usually made your heart melt with affection. But as her tiny hands moved from the book to your arms, that smile did nothing but fill you with dread, the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this sticky situation hitting you like a brick to the face. 

“Yeah mommy, the kitty’s marks are just like these ones,” her stubby fingers gently traced the old wounds, a look of reverence reflected on her cherubic features. “They make you look like that kitty mommy,” her little voice cooed, “I like them a lot!”

Your muscles constricted at her words, a slight tremor coursing through you as you involuntarily tightened your grip on her. She took note of this, looking up at your strained features with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Don’t be sad mommy,” she spoke assuredly, “I really do like them! I think they are pretty!”

Her words burned you, scorching the inside of your frozen shell of a body, leaving you feeling sickly and discombobulated. The room around you started to spin in a hazy blur, a wave of nausea making you nearly wretch. Your breathing grew erratic as you tried to calm yourself, inwardly repeating that your daughter was just a child, a little girl barely four years of age who had an incredibly limited view of the world. Her words were not meant to upset you. Her opinions were coming from a place of total naivety.

Yet still, the mental assurance did little to help with the extremely uncomfortable position you now founds yourself in. It wasn’t as if this was her first time noticing your scars. She had mentioned them before, her curious mind trying to piece together the reason that her arms appeared different from your own. Each time she brought your old wounds up you couldn’t help but feel flustered, responding with weak explanations and misdirection to try and quickly brush off her questioning.

The marks came from a silly mistake, or a childhood accident, or from a careless moment when mommy should have been paying more attention. It was always excuses on repeat. How many lies had you told her on this topic alone?

But even if they were lies, it beat telling her the truth. You didn’t want to have to explain where the scars on your body actually came from to anyone, let alone a child, and especially not to your own daughter. How could you possibly word it gently, or in a way that she would understand, when you barely understood why you had them yourself? How could you look her in the eye and tell her that these markings were a permanent sign that you had been very, very hurt and that it was her own fathers hands that inflicted the pain?

Reliving the horrific moments that left your body in such a state was overwhelming enough on its own, but to also have to lay bare her father’s sins, relay to her the unsavory proclivities of a man who she idolized and adored, was not something you were keen on doing.

She didn’t know her daddy like you knew him. She was ignorant to the constant state of concern you lived in, unaware of the worries that plagued your mind and kept you up each night. All the troubles of the hell she had been born into were completely lost on the small, carefree girl.

But honestly that was for the best. You had made an unspoken promise the moment she entered your life that you would protect her no matter what. From the day of her birth onward it became your mission to keep her as happy and healthy as possible.

Ren had broken you, but she did not have to suffer the same fate.

At this point in her life, your daughter knew nothing of her daddy’s profession or ‘hobbies’, and you wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible, if not for the rest of her life. You dreaded each time Ren came home from an auction, terrified he may let casually slip too many details about his ‘lively client’ or that he would carelessly step through the door with the stains of his liaisons still littering his clothes. Your daughter was at an age where she was brimming with questions, and she was relentless in getting answers to each question she asked. Everything had to be explained in complete detail for her to be satisfied, drop the subject, and move on. She was a smart little thing, possibly too smart for her own good. You highly doubted a silly joke or wave of the hand would assuage her whirring mind should Ren grow too impetuous in her presence.

And should her questioning become too pesky, you fretted over what Ren’s reaction to it may be. The more you tried to avoid thinking about it the more you seemed to fixate on the topic, pondering just how much goading it would take from your daughter before his temper would rear its ugly head.  You, above anyone, had firsthand experience in just how volatile the man could be, the scars that littered your body a testament to his turbulent emotions and violent outbursts.

Looking back on it now, it’s a wonder you survived any of it at all.

Ren often told you he loved you, each confession spoken through honeyed words that spilled from his lips easily and often.  And while you didn’t doubt those words (you knew better than to, at this point), you also knew his sweet nothings weren’t merely a term of endearment, they also served as your curse. He loved you, but he also loved your fealty to him, your adoration and worship of him and only him. Should you not reciprocate his feelings as quickly or ardently as he expected, the mere thought of whatever punishment he would concoct was enough to send you into a debilitating panic attack.

There were few things he loathed more than when you flinched from his affection or if you exhibited any sign of distress towards his presence, especially after he had spent so many years going above and beyond to provide for you, devote himself to you. You had learned early on to keel any feelings of aversion you had to his advances, several of your more prominent scars a brutal reminder of that misstep alone.

 If your daughter uncovered the truth and saw her father for who he truly was, if she began to fear him the way you feared him, how would he respond?  If not only his partner, but his own daughter started shying away from him, what length would he go to to correct this behavior?

Dwelling on it made your skin crawl.

But perhaps all of your worries were asinine. Despite his inclination for cruelty, Ren had never so much as raised a hand towards your daughter, even when she did act up. If anything, he was overprotective of her, barely letting her move faster than a brisk jog lest she fall and hurt herself. He hated seeing his little girl experience even a modicum of physical pain, mentioning to you previously that were he able, he’d keep her locked up in a padded room all day and night to prevent any foreseeable accidents or injuries. Surely it was just his idea of a joke, but the insinuation still made you cringe.

It was almost comical, just how greatly the manifestation of his affection for her differed from how he showed his love for you.

His domineering nature shielded her from experiencing any true pain. Every scrape, bruise, and cut she ever received was superficial, nothing that caused major bleeding or left a lasting impression. She had no way of knowing what had been done to you to cause the scars that marred your form, the torment and hell you experienced with each slash, smack, burn. Hell, she probably didn’t even really understand what a scar actually was. All she knew was that her mommy and daddy had strange marks on their skin that didn’t follow any kind of set pattern, weird jagged lines and indents that her soft skin was curiously free from. The mystery of it all was as puzzling to her young mind as it was enticing.

However, some mysteries were best left unsolved, and just as with each other time she brought up this hot topic, you found yourself unable to look into her clear, bright eyes and tell her any semblance of the truth. She may have been forced upon you, but she was your daughter. You loved her, and you refused to be the one to shatter her innocence. You would keep her ignorant for as long as possible, shielding her to the endless nightmare of your daily lives, even if it cost you your sanity.

“Mommy,” her voice jarred you, dragging you from your thoughts, “mommy did you hear me? I said I think they are pretty!”

“T-that’s… I…” You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended it to. The room felt like it had dropped thirty degrees, your body twitching in response to the sudden chill.

“Daddy told me he gave some of them to you, like this one,” her pudgy, cold finger pressed into the faded heart that resided on your chest, the first of many indelible sins he had etched onto your form. Only the top half of the carved symbol was viewable above the collar of your shirt, so she tugged at the loose hem until she could see it in its horrible entirety.

“Daddy said he gave you this one because he loves you so much,” her voice grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eye as they drank in wounds you wished you could forget, “Daddy loves me too, right mommy? You think he’ll give me a cute heart someday too?”

You felt as if you had been hit by a train.

“S-top,” the words were forced from your throat, airy and breathless, as if someone was wringing your neck to make them come out, “p-please, just stop talking.”

“What did you say mama,” your daughters sing-song voice responded as her fingers continued to trace and prod your scars, “You are whispering, is it a secret?”

“I told you to SHUT UP!”

As if following your command, your booming voice instantly silenced the small girl. Unused to such a violent outburst from her mother, her happy-go-lucky nature quickly shifted to one of alert, her tiny body going rigid as she stared up at you with fearful eyes.

Seeing her in such a state and knowing that you were the cause of it would normally have killed you inside, making you fall to your knees to beg for the child’s forgiveness. But right now, the thin thread that had been holding you together had snapped, and your words rushed out in a torrent you couldn’t begin to quell.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” You seethed, clasping your hands to your ears to try and block out your own intrusive voice, “Just STOP TALKING about it! What are you even saying? Why would you ever want to look like this?!”

Tears started to flood your eyes, blurring the image of the girl who had quickly jumped from your lap and was now cowering before you. Through your bleary vision, you could see tears were brimming her eyes as well.

“You… You have no idea,” your voice warbled, shaking in equal parts grief and frustration, “You have no clue what you are saying, so just STOP IT. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!”

You slunk from the chair down to the floor, burying your face in your cold, stiff hands. The soft blubbering of your daughter could be heard through your own sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hearing her broken voice began to shatter the spell you had been under, instant regret jerking you roughly back to reality. Your head sunk lower, your body scrunching itself up as tightly as possible to hide from this cruel reality.

Your screams were born from deeply buried feelings of hatred, tucked far, far away as a means of self-preservation. For a moment, you felt as if you despised your daughter, her existence tethering you to this wretched excuse of a life, binding you irrevocably to Ren. But as you lifted your heavy head, glancing up to stare into her young face, a face so very similar to your own, a face contorted in panic and sadness over her mother’s abrupt descent into madness… you realized it wasn’t her that you hated.

It was yourself.

Your daughter didn’t deserve this. She deserved normalcy. She deserved a father that didn’t pose a threat to her. She deserved a mother that wasn’t ruined by his hands. She deserved a happy and untroubled life, not to be stuck being raised in a barbed cage, navigating her way through life with nothing but the shattered remains of a battered woman to guide her.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked under the weight of your overwhelming emotions, snot and tears running freely down your ruddy cheeks and chin, “I’m so, so sorry baby…”

“What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t heard the front door open, nor had you heard Ren’s jubilant greeting as he entered your home. He had no doubt been upset by the lack of welcome-it was one thing to be ignored by a child, but his doting wife? That was not something he was not apt to look past.

But surely any feelings of annoyance or frustration fled from his mind the moment he entered the room, his eyes falling upon your crumpled, messy form collapsed on the floor. You cursed his arrival, upset that he entered the scene at such a compromising time, right as you were struggling to regain an ounce of composure and properly apologize to the little girl who had done nothing wrong.

“D-daddy,” your daughter’s voice warbled as she barreled towards him, colliding into his waiting embrace. You wiped at your face in a desperate attempt to hide your previous outpouring of emotions, doing your best to avoid eye contact with Ren as his sharp gaze quickly flicked from you, to his daughter.

This had already become enough of a scene without Ren’s interference, it was best to try and begin damage control now. 

“Daddy I-I made mommy cry!” Tears continued to pour from your daughter’s eyes, her face twisting into a look of pure dismay. Her misguided admission of guilt made you recoil, knowing full well it would grant her no favors with the person she seeking comfort from. “I’m really sorry daddy! I didn’t mean to!”

After several endless seconds of silence, Ren spoke.

“… You made her cry?”

His voice was far sharper than it needed to be, further agitating the precarious state of affairs. In most cases he would have offered your daughter leniency, letting her get away with far more than she probably should. However that leniency was null and void if you ended up suffering in the process.  Ren could not forgive anyone that caused you any duress (himself, of course, being the exemption) even if that person was his own flesh and blood.

“What do you mean you made her cry? What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” she wailed, a fresh wave of tears spurred on by the accusatory tone of her father’s voice, “I just told mommy I thought her marks were pretty and then she started crying! I wasn’t lying daddy, I like them! I think they make mommy look really pretty!”

“Her marks…?” Ren’s look of vexation began to dissipate as the meaning of her words donned on him. He lifted his arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own scars to the little girl. Pointing a clawed finger to them, he leaned down until he was looking her in the eye, “You mean like these?”

As she nodded her head vigorously in confirmation, Ren tutted, “That’s the reason for all the water works? An innocent compliment started all this fussing?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Isn’t that a little bit… silly?

You tensed at the sound of his barking laugh, your frown deepening as an amused grin spread wider across his lips. You wished that you could say it was shocking for him to have such disregard after finding the two of you in such an agitated state, but it was painfully in character of him to shrug off your misery and suffering as inconsequential.  How he could so nonchalantly normalize this hellish situation he kept you and your child ensnared in, you would never understand.

Your daughter was apparently sharing similar thoughts, as her face began to once more morph into a pre-sobbing scowl. She was no doubt wounded that her father was not offering her the comfort she was seeking, her emotional state already greatly weakened by her mother’s venomous tantrum.

To help quell another round of tears, Ren pulled the child closer, wrapping her up in his arms so that her tiny form was nearly enveloped by him.  “Shhh, no more tears angel,” he cooed sweetly, patting her head gently to appease her, “There isn’t any reason to cry, especially because… Well, you’re right! Mommy’s whole body is pretty, isn’t it? Her marks just compliment the beauty that’s already there.”

Slowly but surely, her tears began to dissipate. Hunched over shoulders loosened, and sniffles and hiccups gave way to even breathing. Like clockwork, her father’s gentle handling soothed her, the same touch that destroyed you offering her salvation.

As if under a spell, the turmoil that had overcome your daughter quickly began to vanish, her sobbing fading into quiet sniffles. Once she was fully calmed, Ren continued speaking, “That’s all you meant to say to mommy, right angel? I’m sorry she took it the wrong way, she’s probably just tired or hungry, you know how mommy gets. She’ll get over it in no time flat!”

Heat spread through your body at his flippant dismissal of your feelings, an indignant blush lighting your cheeks as you gripped your hands tightly at your side. Your previous emotional episode left you all but drained, but your will to fight back against his callous commentary could never truly be contained.

“In fact, I bet she is already over it now,” Ren’s voice took on a jovial tone as he directed his focus solely on you, “Aren’t you, pumpkin?”

With the ball suddenly in your court, you flinched as both sets of expectant eyes fell on you. Your own eyes darted from Ren’s piercing glare, down to your daughter’s wide-eyed look of unbridled hope. You felt much like the rabbit that had been caught by the fox, stuck in a lose-lose situation. Seeing him hunched over her small body as she clutched to him as a life line, openly concerned that her mother may once more reject her while her father remained a bastion of strength and understanding, left you reeling. Either you would get heated again and stay the villain, but possibly hold on to an ounce of your dignity, or concede to Ren and have yet another piece of your soul wither away and die-the price to pay so that your daughter could remain in blissful ignorance for another day.

“Aren’t you, pumpkin?” He repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word. The kindness in his voice serving only as a mask for the threat buried beneath.

“Y-yes,” you responded quickly, shooting them both a smile you hoped was convincing, “I am very sorry, baby. Daddy is right. Mommy is just… tired.”

A serene smile lit her face, your words placating her. Seeing her happy once more helped relieve a bit of the ache in your own heart, making the lie worth it.

“Good, good,” Ren affirmed with a nod, carefully detaching himself from your daughter as he stood, “but you know little one, mommy deserves some love too, don’t you think? She may have been in the wrong, but it’s not nice to make her cry like that. Why don’t you go give her a hug, hm?”

With no further persuading necessary, she quickly padded over to you, hopping on your lap with so much enthusiasm that it nearly knocked the wind from you. Her arms tightly latched around your torso as she smushed her face into your chest, rubbing it back and forth like she was trying to burrow beneath your skin.

“I love you mommy,” her voice spoke clearly, any hint of previous sadness long gone. You sighed, relieved that this dramatic chapter was over as you pulled your daughter closer to you.

“I love you too.”

During this show of affection, Ren had made his way behind you, slinking so deftly you hadn’t even known he had moved until you heard him chuckle softly behind you.

“This is what I like to see,” he spoke with a sickeningly dreamy sigh, “nothing makes me happier than when my two girls are happy.”

He placed his hands gingerly atop your shoulders, trailing them down until they rested on your arms. His thumbs pressed gently against the marred skin, rubbing in a small circular motion in an attempt to subdue you. His claws grazed your flesh, uncomfortably scratching against you as they snagged against your skin.

He planted a firm and lingering kiss to the side of your head, pulling away just enough that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “There really was nothing to cry about,” he whispered breathily, his words quiet enough that despite your daughters’ proximity, she would have no chance of hearing them. “It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you are, scars and all. But you must know that, right my sweet pet? I tell you all the time.”

Ren took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky sigh, “Seeing these scars reminds me of all we have been through, all that we share. They are a symbol of our bond.”

One of his claws pressed down sharply, a small bead of blood pooling around the piercing. Leisurely he began to drag his finger up your arm, a thin red line following in its wake. You shivered at the burning sensation, but deigned to give him any reaction further than that.

“Don’t forget pumpkin, these pretty marks are a reminder of my constant love for you.” He chuckled softly, peppering a few kisses to the back of your neck while his claws slowly sunk deeper, “And right now I am feeling  terribly sentimental, so for old times’ sake, why don’t I add a few more to remind you just how precious to me you are~?”

[clowningaroundmars]

Hobie1610 pt. 3

part 3 has finally arrived!!! at a faster rate than part 2 but a bit of a wait nonetheless lol

not entirely sure how long this lil story will go on for but hope y'all are enjoying this ride regardless, whether it ends on the next part or in 3 more chapters ldfjkdhf

in this installment: thrilling action, a high stakes chase, and we get to learn more abt our beloved hobie jones! yippee!

>pt. 1 here<

>pt. 2 here<

>pt. 4 here<

♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧♤♧

By some miracle, Hobie did not mention the suit to Miles once they started texting semi-regularly.

Unfortunately, they also couldn't really make their lunch date (date? God, get it together, Morales. It is not a date…) as soon as Miles would have liked, due to a million different things getting in the way of them setting a solid day aside to chill together.

Just his luck, of course.

But in the hallways, Hobie actually deigned to give Miles a passing smile every now and then. They didn’t ever get to hang out like they did for those precious few moments on the first day of school, but Miles didn’t feel the crushing weight of guilt every time he saw Hobie in his same classroom anymore. What a relief!

So Miles was mostly okay with how things were going anyhow, even if the hangout ended up falling through and they both decided not to go in the end. He was able to patrol and do his homework in blissful peace for the first time in months.

… Kind of.

That look on Hobie’s handsome face as he looked down past Miles’ coat collar though…

That still ate away at an anxious part of Miles’ brain whenever he had the time to sit down and really let his worries manifest.

No time to think about that now, though. Miles was suited up again on a school night, hoping to get at least an hour’s worth of patrolling in before security at Visions noticed he was absent from his dorm room. He hoped Ganke would be able to cover for him like he always did.

It was yet another cold evening out in New York City, and Miles was steadily covering the edges of Brooklyn, heading towards Manhattan to do a quick sweep through Central Park like he did on occasion. There was always something going on in Manhattan, especially during the evening.

Miles decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek before calling it a night and heading back to Visions.

So away he went-- now fully in his Spiderman element-- vaulting and soaring over buildings, showing off every now and then by doing silly flips and tricks mid-air for the opportunistic New Yorkers looking to snap their Spiderman Sighting of the day. A little social media promo never hurt anyone, after all…

Spiderman finally swung down onto a tree branch on the western side of the park from a street lamp and was just about to lower himself down as inconspicuously as he could, before immediately feeling the tingling electricity of his Spider Senses race up and down his spine, giving him the usual headache along with it.

He crouched down quietly on a branch and watched as a familiar lanky figure streaked across the path underneath him onto the grass and beyond.

Whoever this runner was, he was fast. And hot on his trail was a gang of burly bumbling assholes cursing up a blue streak as they gave chase.

Spiderman’s eyes stayed glued to the fast runner like they were a lifeline. His senses honed in on the person and he erupted out of the leaves of the tree with one mighty leap, sailing through the air to shoot a web out and swing his way on over to the excitement.

Several joggers, people walking dogs after work, and mothers with baby carriages exclaimed and shouted as they were barreled into by the gang of men trying to keep up with their moving target. The runner didn’t seem to be giving up, though, as their long legs sent them flying over bushes and rocks and lounging people as gracefully as a ribbon in the air.

It was indeed getting dark soon again, but the darkness didn’t really affect Spiderman’s senses at all. His mask helped him fine-tune his powerful vision and anticipate the runner’s next moves.

It looked as though they were trying to make their way up towards the Great Lawn from Cedar Hill, but whether the person was planning to make a break for the now-empty Delacorte Theatre or the Metropolitan Museum Of Art… or beyond? That was the million dollar question.

Spiderman didn’t want to lose the person in case they happened to just be a petty thief, since that would be a quick and easy problem to fix. But as he silently chased down the runner alongside (and unbeknownst) to the gang, his suspicions gave way to some other... ideas.

Namely, that the runner seemed young, a bit too young for someone to be pissing off this many fully-grown gang members.

He pushed through his confusion and made a break for the theatre the second he guessed that the runner was pivoting in that direction.

The trees were getting thicker the closer they got to the Belvedere Castle and Spiderman eventually resorted himself to hoofing it, mindful of sticking to the shadows of the foliage that surrounded them on all sides.

He was super grateful now more than ever that his suit happened to be his signature sleek black and red, rather than the tacky and hyper-visible reds and blues of many of his Spider counterparts (sorry Peter!)

Once he confirmed that the suspicious target was indeed planning on hiding in the bleachers of the massive amphitheatre, he shot up a web to hoist himself into the infrastructure from the tall stadium lights. From there, he positioned himself a bit closer to the fray, hearing the loud and heavy boots of the gang following the runner, not far behind.

Then, he squinted into the dusk as he watched one of the entrances from his perch up high... and almost choked on his own saliva!

In comes none other than Hobie Motherfucking Jones, streaking down several steps like a shooting star, clutching onto… something tucked under one of his arms. He was breathless, panting loudly, and heading straight for the Belvedere Lake.

Upon hearing the heavy bootfalls get ever closer with every passing second, it seemed that Hobie got the idea to attempt a last-minute juke by throwing himself underneath the stairs that faced the lake, tucking himself as tightly as he could under the massive stage at the center.

Spiderman watched all of this happening with wide eyes, holding his own breath in. He prayed that the ugly thugs didn’t see Hobie’s sneaky last-second move, but climbed up high onto the stadium lights and prepared to swing down anyhow, just in case.

What was Hobie even doing here, out at this hour? And what the hell did he manage to steal that was so important to these men anyways? It was quite a chase they were caught up in, running nearly two entire miles all the way up to the amphitheatre just to catch him, and that was only from what he could see when he swung into action.

The group split up and pulled out flashlights, determinedly searching the bleachers and corners as best they could while the sky rapidly darkened above them.

From right below the webbed crime-fighter, Hobie poked his head out from the shadows and took a peek.

No, no, duck back down! Spiderman wanted to shout, but he couldn’t.

No one knew he had followed them and he was safe high above the action where he balanced himself on the metal bars that housed the bulbs. His muscles tensed as the bright beam of light from one guy’s flashlight swept a little too close to Hobie’s head. Damnit.

Spiderman couldn’t just sit there all day! He had a friend to save, stolen item be damned!

He rechecked his web shooters furtively and took aim.

He set his sights on another stadium light pole across from the stage, figuring that if he was quick and agile enough, he could time his swing well enough to scoop Hobie up from where he was hidden and avoid any detection. Hopefully.

Seemed like a solid enough plan though, until Hobie just. Shot out from his hiding place all of a sudden, the heels of his boots rapping loudly against the cement and echoing all around the stage as he made a beeline for the lakefront.

Shit!!!

Miles wanted to kill him. Those guys didn’t even suspect he was hiding where we was in the first place!

... Okay, plan B!

Spiderman’s brain whirred at breakneck speeds as he watched the thugs exclaim loudly and give chase yet again, this time much closer to Hobie than they ever were before.

Without thinking, he swung down from his perch and bowled over a couple of men in his haste to simply just… grab Hobie like a damsel in distress and fireman-carry him back around the gang to get a good line of web onto a nearby pole.

The men all cursed and shouted in surprise of course, flashlight beams waving around everywhere.

One of them even yelled, “what the hell was that?!” like a character in one of his dad’s favorite cheesy slasher movies.

Spiderman was too fast for them, a black blur simply whizzing by as he grabbed Hobie and hoisted the both of them up into the air with a mighty leap. Hobie yelped in surprise, grunting from the effort, and seemed to let whatever he stole slip out of his hands which then clattered loudly onto the ground below.

The thugs rejoiced then, shaking fists at Hobie and his rescuer as they flew up to the top of a tree and detached themselves so they could fall onto the stadium light opposite from Spiderman’s initial hiding spot.

Spiderman didn’t stop until he attached another web up to the lights and dangled there for a bit. Adrenaline still coursed through his veins as he shifted Hobie off of his shoulders and let him slide slowly onto his side, his friend’s wiry arms clutching him tightly.

They both watched with rapt attention at the goings-on several feet below them.

The thugs congregated around the fallen item, picking it up and turning it this way and that. It looked like a briefcase, though with the low lighting it really could’ve been anything. It was only when one of them-- the biggest and burliest of them all-- shouted out another colorful swear word that Hobie then seemed to come back to himself again.

He squeezed Spiderman’s shoulders with his arms and kicked at him. They swung a bit from the wiggling.

“Ouch!” Spiderman hissed, as quietly as he could. He was hoping the dark dusk would conceal their position now as long as they made No Noises, but even that wasn’t guaranteed.

“Go, go, go, go, man! Let’s get out of here!!” Hobie hissed right back into his ear, his face mere centimeters away from Spiderman’s mask.

Spiderman stubbornly ignored the heat radiating out from his face at that realization and jerked this way and that, looking for an easy escape from their conundrum.

Flashlight beams danced around the ground before finally swinging up to the trees and catching sight of a pair of shoes dangling in the sky.

The biggest and meanest one of the bunch pulled something out of his pocket and took aim.

Bullet! Spiderman’s senses screamed into his cerebellum.

“Goddamn,” he huffed ruefully as the shots rang out. Hobie panicked. “Bullets for us? That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?”

Hobie clung onto his hero for dear life. “Brother, if you do not get a move on from here, we are both gonna get turned into fish filets!” He shouted into Spiderman’s ear.

“Ow. Okay,” Spiderman grumbled, sticking himself to the side of the pole they dangled from and readjusting Hobie so that he clung onto his back instead.

He took a deep breath and narrowly dodged a bullet that whizzed unnervingly close to their heads. Hobie yelled again.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Spiderman began, speaking quickly. “Hold on, okay? Hold on tight. Just hold on and do not let me go for even a second!”

“On it!” Hobie shouted back, legs kicking a bit before wrapping themselves tightly around Spiderman’s torso.

They both took a breath and then Spiderman jumped, gaining some air before twin webs erupted from his web shooters-- aimed directly towards the seating area entrance.

Together, he and Hobie rocketed from their airborne position towards their escape route once the fluids connected to solid architecture. To his credit, Hobie only whimpered a little bit through the ride.

The thugs had no chance! They stumbled on tired, aching legs towards the very door the two teens had left out of, complaining and cursing some more as they searched through the steps and made their way out onto the theatre’s general admission and concessions area.

They searched and searched through the bushes and trees, going so far as to even check the sculptures near the structure.

After several tense moments of gruff shouting back-and-forth, the search eventually died down until only a couple of the men were left sweeping the area once more. The others had already given up their fruitless endeavor and called it a night.

“Fucking kids, man. What the hell,” Spiderman heard one of them grumble before kicking at the Romeo and Juliet statue angrily and following the rest of his cohorts down the path towards the Great Lawn again.

Hobie and Spiderman let out matching sighs of relief then, happy to have given the men the slip by managing to hide behind the giant 3D Delacorte Theatre sign right above the box offices. Lucky for them, most people don’t think to search behind lit-up signs, so they went completely undetected.

“… Wanna let me know what you were doing here this whole time? You could’ve gotten killed!” Spiderman breathed. He wanted his tone to be sharper, more authoritative… but he was just so glad to see his new friend still in one piece instead of riddled with more holes than a chunk of swiss cheese!

Hobie scoffed, tucking a loc behind his ear and sitting back. Thanks to the lighting of the sign and the other park lights in the area, Spiderman could see him digging around in his coat pocket and fishing out-- a USB drive?

Hobie held it up triumphantly, sleepy down-turned eyes glistening with pride.

“I got it! Suckers! Screw them by the way, I’m not the thief, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

Well. He was sneaky, alright. Spiderman had to hand that to him, at the very least.

He sat back on his heels as well and exhaled. “Fine. I believe you. What’s on that drive?”

Hobie squinted at him then, really giving him a good once-over now that the excitement had officially died down. “…Damn. You’re Spiderman,”

“Yeah, yeah. Hey, hi, nice to meet you, I’m your friendly neighborhood Sp-- ugh, seriously man, just tell me what all of that was back there or else I’m webbing you up and calling the cops.”

“Hey!” Hobie objected. “Like I said already, I’m the good guy here. I snagged this from those guys because I caught them snoopin’ around the museum over that way. I followed them and found out they were stealing this!”

Spiderman bobbed his head. “Okay? And what’s on it?”

Hobie turned the drive over a bit in his hands, admiring it. “Most likely? Security codes, schedules, maps. I’ve been uh… investigating those dudes for a while after watching them sniff around the museum for a few days now. It looks like they were just art thieves plannin' a heist, so I jumped on the opportunity to deliver justice myself.”

Hobie’s mischievous grin was met by Spiderman’s disapproving stare.

“And why didn’t you just call security and let them know? Like I said, super dangerous thing you did back there! If I wasn’t there to save you, you could’ve died, man.”

Hobie pocketed his USB drive again and rolled his eyes. “Y’know, for a vigilante hero with cool superpowers, you sure are a square.”

Spiderman sat up and placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Oof, ow. That’s mean,”

“Yeah, it is, but you know I’m right. If a kid like me walked up to some cops and tried to warn them of a possible art heist, you just know those pricks’ll laugh in my face and do literally nothing about it. I had to take matters into my own hands!” Hobie jutted his chin out defiantly.

Well. Couldn't really argue with that, especially considering PDNY’s less-than-stellar track record of taking preventative measures most times. All that they would most likely do is nod along to whatever Hobie was telling them and chuckle, shaking their heads as they walk away. Not their problem.

Spiderman rubbed his chin. “Point taken," he conceded. "So what’s your plan now?”

Hobie glanced around, as if he was checking for any eavesdroppers. “I’m gonna submit some photos to a journalist I met online before turning this in back to the museum. The journalist’ll help get those guys behind bars once a story's published and some actual adults talk to the cops. I am going to go collect my reward,”

Spiderman blinked. He had a bunch of questions swimming in his head, but the first question out of his mouth was, “what reward?”

“The reward for turning in precious security info, genius!” Hobie tapped at his forehead with a finger and grinned. “If I get to negotiate with them, I can get some money to save up and-- uh. Nevermind. Listen, are you gonna rat me out or not?”

Miles’ brow creased behind his mask. “… I don’t think I will. Sounds like you’re doing the right thing… mostly.”

Hobie cheered silently. “Yes! Okay, I take it back, Spidey. You are cool!”

Spiderman sighed. “But first, I need to know you’re gonna be safe. Like, actually, and that you’re not gonna get followed home.”

Hobie shrugged nonchalantly and pushed more locs out of his face again. “Yeah, you can walk me home if you want,”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, that’s not the only thing I mean. I need you to promise me that you’re not gonna get into stupid stunts like this again. That was so dangerous and you really could’ve gotten hurt!”

Hobie exhaled as well. He stared intensely into the mask’s giant white lenses for a beat, making Spiderman shift uncomfortably.

Then, he held up his pinkie. “… Fine. I won’t do stupid shit like this again. I promise.”

Spiderman blinked a few more times and hooked his pinkie onto Hobie’s. “Uh. Okay, cool! Cool, that’s what I wanna hear, considering keeping New Yorkers safe is my job! I just wanna see you safe, that’s all. No more art heists, you gotta leave that to the professionals to handle,”

“What, professionals like you? You might’ve not even gotten to them in time before they snuck off with like millions of dollars worth of art, bro.”

“Anyone ever tell you you are just so mean? Dontcha have a little faith in me? The ‘vigilante hero with cool superpowers’?” Spiderman shot back.

They both laughed.

“Seriously, though. I do appreciate the fact that you saved my ass back there,” Hobie admitted, eyes cast downwards for a second. “I was actually gonna throw this thing into the lake and hope this drive got eaten by like… a fish or something.”

“And what about you?” Spiderman smiled despite himself.

“Well,” Hobie shrugged. “If I died, I died. I guess,”

It was Spiderman’s turn to scoff now. “You have a family, man. Don’t be ridiculous. You have friends and family that would miss you!”

Hobie’s expression turned dark, his entire face shadowing for a second before being replaced by cool detached nonchalance. A slight hint of annoyance stayed put underneath.

“… My family’s barely my family. I don’t have any friends, either. Don't worry about me.” Hobie admitted in a clipped tone. He stood up abruptly and started doing some casual stretches.

Spiderman stood up as well, knowing fully well how this song and dance was going to go.

He would never admit it out loud, but he’d seen his fair share of self-destructive citizens throwing themselves into the middle of danger in the short time he’d been doing this whole vigilante thing. He had talked many a melancholy or manic person from tossing themselves off of multiple different buildings, different bridges, stopped them from “falling” onto train tracks.

And as loath as he is to admit it, this Hobie’s particular brand of cool detachment was entirely too familiar to him as well.

A flash of his uncle Aaron’s face lit up a part of his brain that he hadn’t really allowed himself to acknowledge since that fateful day. He quickly stamped that out.

He cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. “… Well. That sounds pretty depressing, man.”

He didn’t notice Hobie’s shoulders hitch at that phrase.

“But,” Spiderman continued, “You got people out here who care about you, even if you don’t know it. You’re still so young, you could be ending your life before you even meet, like, your favoritest person in the whole world, right? So just do me a quick favor, take care of yourself. For me. Live long enough to meet your favorite person, alright?”

Spiderman put on his best comforting expression that he could despite the mask most likely getting in the way of Hobie fully seeing it. He hoped his words were enough to convince him not to dive off the deep end, at least not anytime soon.

It seemed to work at least a little bit, because Hobie looked back at him with a much warmer-- albeit hesitant-- expression.

“Can I ask you something?” Hobie finally said after a few moments of silence.

“Uh, sure.” Spiderman replied.

“Do you know about a kid named Miles Morales at all?”

The air was sucked out of Spiderman’s lungs right then as he floundered like a fish for a minute, brain working into overdrive to make his answer sound both intelligent and convincing.

“U-uh, maaaybeee? I dunno, I meet a lot of New Yorkers everyday and I don’t get many names, yanno? S-sounds familiar, but sorr--”

“I knew it,” Hobie exhaled a laugh and surged forward to embrace Spiderman with both arms.

Spiderman stood frozen in his place, arms held in mid-air as he worked to process this.

“Uh. What--”

Spiderman felt Hobie’s chin dig into the side of his cheek a little as he turned his lips to his ear. “Your secret’s safe with me, by the way. I’m not telling anyone,”

Miles felt his whole world turn on its axis before shattering completely.

Oh no, no, no, no, no! Goddamnit!

Miles pushed Hobie off and stepped back, holding his hands up. “Oh hey, whoa, whoa, whoa. I dunno what you’re thinking or who you think I am, but--!”

Hobie sighed loudly. “Miles, I saw your suit.”

The world screeched to a halt.

Hobie picked his gaze back up off of his feet and even seemed apologetic, almost. “I, uhm. Like, back on the roof. At Visions. I wasn’t… a hundred percent sure I saw it, since it could’ve been any logo at all, but. Well, you’re a pretty bad liar too, y’know that, right?”

Miles sucked in a slightly shaky breath, gulping loudly. “Uh. W-well,”

Hobie smiled shyly. “You, uh… you’re like around the same height as Miles Morales, anyways. And you sure sound a lot like him, too.”

Damn. Damn it all.

Miles spun this way and that, placing his hands atop his head as he panicked slightly. “H-Hobie, you cannot tell anyone else about this, whatsoever. Do you understand? No one. At all. Or we’re both dead!”

Hobie held his hands up, lines creasing in his face. “Look bro, you’ve got secrets of mine too. We pinkie promised, remember? I don’t break promises.”

Miles didn’t point out that the promise was so that Hobie would stop getting himself into stupidly dangerous situations, but he accepted it anyways, albeit reluctantly.

“D-do… do you actually, like actually promise me you’ll never breathe a word about this to anyone? Ever? At all?”

Hobie held up his right hand into the air, as if taking an oath. “I, MJ, solemnly swear to never breathe a single word to anyone about your super secret identity, so help me god.”

Miles planted his fists on his hip and shook his head. “Oh my god,” he exhales on a shaky laugh.

“Don’t you believe me? What would I have to gain by selling you out? Oh,” Hobie stops suddenly, perking up. “We could even work together! I got me my sweet camera and my extensive connects, man. Think about it!”

“No, no. Hobie. Stop that, man. I’m not putting you into any danger after I just saved your skinny butt. Spiderman doesn’t do sidekicks anyways,”

Hobie looked a bit put out, but shrugged anyways. “Well, I mean… think about it sometime. We could seriously take down criminal activity around here, if you’re down! And, uh. You do have my number,”

Miles looked up and took a deep breath. “Mmnyes, I do. I do have your number. That’s… I mean you’re not wrong about that. Listen, I think it’s getting pretty late and we should both be heading back home now, though.”

The corners of Hobie’s mouth curled up mischievously. “True, true. It is a school night, after all.”

Miles couldn’t stop grinning despite the heavy anvil that threatened to burst out of his chest. “Yep, yes it is! Okay, time to get you home now. C’mon, let’s go.”

Miles moved to step into Hobie’s space and carry him on his back again so he could lower the both of them down from the lip of the theatre roof.

But before that happened, he felt Hobie place a cold but strong hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

Miles looked up inquisitively and felt his breath catch in his throat as he felt those same hands slowly slide up the smooth spandex of his suit, up his shoulders, and then they stopped at his neck, at the seam of where his suit and mask met.

The entire thing probably only took a few seconds to do, but to Miles it felt like eons passed as he felt every single muscle twitch and the pulse beating underneath Hobie’s skin while he ran those fingers up his arms.

He was standing so close to him! Oh god!

The entire ordeal was unbearably intimate, and Miles could barely stop the shudder that wracked his body suddenly.

Hobie’s soft lips were slightly parted, the lighting of the sign next to them caught in the dark brown portals that were his eyes.

“U-uhm. Sorry, this is weird...” he mumbled quietly. But his hands didn't move.

All around them, crickets started their soothing chorus.

Here they were, right behind the giant lettering of the Delacorte Theatre, intertwined in each other’s arms on a cold night-- and Miles’ core body temperature has never felt hotter before. He felt like he could melt steel, the way this night was going. He didn’t know when his hands raised to grasp onto Hobie’s arms, but they must’ve done it of their own accord because Miles then felt himself squeezing softly onto Hobie’s biceps.

Slowly, painstakingly, and carefully… Hobie made his move.

Every centimeter of the mask being pushed up was accompanied by a soft look that asked-- no, it begged-- for permission to continue. His hands seemed to move on their own eventually, as he slid the mask up over the back of Miles' head and then eased it up off of his nose.

Hobie wore a soft look of determination then, that fully came into view again once Miles felt his mask slide right up off of his eyes. Hobie’s soft hands eventually fell away, mask in one hand, no sounds in the air except for the wildlife of the park starting to wake now that the night has officially fallen.

Miles wasn’t sure why he did, but he held his breath.

After a few seconds of appraising gazes from each other, pupils meeting pupils, exchanging a million words a second with just a few looks… Hobie grinned beautifully.

“Damn. There you are,”

Miles felt a plume of heat erupt from his gut and rush up to his face. “Uh. Hm, y-yep. Here I am,” he blinked back at Hobie with his big brown eyes.

Hobie had a look of pure joy on his face before it started to melt away suddenly. “You know… I should backstab you for abandoning me out of nowhere that one time, though… I really should...”

The moment collapsed like an undone web, a delicate thing now completely destroyed as Miles leaped up in indignation.

“Hobie!”

Hobie stepped back and laughed loudly. “Re-lax! I’m not gonna actually do it. But. Y’know.”

“And if you do, I’ll leave you webbed up to that billboard near Visions,” Miles threatened, mostly light-heartedly.

“Psshh, and then get my mom’s two million lawyers on your ass? Good luck,”

“As if they could ever catch me! I’m Spiderman!”

Just as easily as they had stepped out of being just kids for a moment, they stepped right back into it, bickering like they'd been friends since forever.

Miles lowered the both of them from the sign and they headed towards the eastern side of the park, making their way over to Hunter’s Gate. They bickered and bantered back and forth the entire way there, and it was only once they made it to the outer gates of the park that Miles stopped them both.

With his mask back on and other New Yorkers now milling nearby, Miles made it a point to lower his voice as he turned to Hobie and puffed his chest out heroically.

“So, random citizen. Where are we off to today? I told you I’d take you back home safely, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“’Cause you promised, right?” Hobie smirked, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.

“Uhm. Yeah, yeah. I did. So, lead the way!” Spiderman made a grand ushering gesture, and Hobie chuckled good-naturedly as he stepped aside and exited Central Park.

“You gonna walk me home, Spiderman?” Hobie threw him a side-long glance.

“Yyyeah…? Why? You’d rather swing home?”

“I liked swinging, actually. Yeah,” Hobie stopped where he was on the sidewalk and nodded with an air of finality. “Yeah… let’s swing!”

Spiderman felt his heart do a few somersaults in his chest before he gestured towards his shoulders. Hobie quickly assumed the position, long lanky arms wrapping around him and leaning his body weight against Spiderman’s side.

Spiderman shot up a web to a nearby street lamp and gave his friend one more glance.

“You sure?” He asked again, really making sure that Hobie was okay with this. Not many people really liked swinging, which was understandable. Even Miles wasn't the biggest fan of it at times.

Hobie chuckled and ignored the onlookers as they slowly ambled past the two, throwing the teens questioning glances as they made their way past them.

“Yeah, I am! Let’s go,”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Miles: Do you actually actually really like on your LIFE promise that you’re not ginna tell a soul about… well…

Miles: gonna*

MJ: Yes, Miles. I PROMISE [eyeroll emoji]

Miles: I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE

MJ: Do you actually, though? ;)

Miles: No. But I can find out… I got connects

MJ: Uh huh. I’ll tell your “connects” that if you don’t take me out on that promised lunch date, our friendly neighborhood Spiderman just might be the next trending topic on ALL social media apps again very soon……..

Miles: Oh my god. You are Evil. I can’t believe this. My next arch nemesis… damn

Miles: What a killer plot twist. The greatest foe I have yet to face happens to be none other than one of my very own classmates

Miles: It be ya own people

From his family’s Lower Manhattan penthouse, Hobie laughs out loud as he reads the text messages, ignoring all of the curious glances thrown his way by various members of his team.

From Miles’ own humble dorm room at Visions, he laughs aloud as well.

[junebugdunes]

candy colored 🍭

[swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual]

I'm not opposed to hear your rambling of DP in dungeon meshi

Ayyy someone asked! 

Oh, you’ve activated my trap card.

So, naturally, I cannot find the post because Tumblr ate it off my blog, BUT what they’re referring to is a post about how the Fenton parents could have TOTALLY ended up overshooting when trying to get to the Ghost Zone and ended up in different worlds instead… and thus decided ‘hey free children!’ And surprise adopted (read: kidnapped) both Jazz and Danny from two different realms. 

I actually had a LOT of ideas on how you could do this. But, I ultimately decided that a post-canon approach was best for this little exercise. Not that you COULDN’T add Jazz and Danny, I suppose, but the timeline and the character movements are, for lack of better terms of it, EXTREMELY tight. You can wiggle an OC in there, sure, but for a fully developed character from ANOTHER media, especially one as OP as Danny, it’s far more difficult. 

That’s my way of saying, this absolutely has Dungeon Meshi spoilers if you’ve never read the manga and don’t know how it ends. That’s my only warning. 

So here’s the ideas and eventual story (there’s elements that are general and some that are specific to whatever storyline I ended up with) that I have doubts I will ever write but someone might as well enjoy them. I technically wrote a few scenes in my notes app, but these aren’t those, this is—kind of the whole roadmap? It’s a little funky still though, haha. 

Here goes!

As with the post, Jazz is Barbara Gordon’s twin, and Danny was actually a half foot. And now he’s a halfa halffoot. Lmao. Lol even. 

Before I chose to do a post-canon approach, I considered having the Fentons as a party. Jazz and Danny are basically playing babysitter to their FAR too enthusiastic parents who keep almost or actually dying because they’re exploring the whole immortal dungeon thing. While that is scrapped, some of the ideas I did have came from this, er, phase of development? So I felt it was worth a shoutout. 

Marcille describes magic (well, mana) as coming from ‘The Infinite’, which is also where demons come from. And these demons can do things like grant wishes, ‘feed’ off of emotion, and change people. They also, once sealed into dungeons, do various things inside these dungeons, including making animals that cannot exist without magic for very long but also seem to still require a sort of internal logic. This sounds a LOT like how ghosts work in Danny Phantom, if you take maybe a hint of liberty and a dose of speculation about how lairs likely work. 

Basically, The Infinite = the Ghost Zone, also known as the Infinite Realms. Demons = Ghosts. Dungeons = Lairs. And, most importantly… Ectoplasm = Magic. 

For my own sanity and also for a successful meshing of these two very different universes, I’ve decided to go with the semi-fanon idea that the influences of the people in the living world can create things in the Infinite Realms. Belief creates reality, basically. For example, perhaps Pandora was never alive in the first place, but because people heard and believed her story so much, she became a ghost (realms being, demon, what have you). So, while those in Amity Park might not have initially believed much in ghosts, they saw them, and because people saw Phantom as powerful and either villain or hero-like, Danny and the rest of the ghosts became more like comic book characters than spooky ghosts (somewhat explains how things are still a LITTLE spooky, but seem a bit more heavy on the probably dead people thing at the beginning of the series). 

Similarly, demons became what they are over time as the people of the world influenced them. You could call what demons started as, as ‘proto ghosts’, and that every world that HAS ghosts has them, and the beliefs change them into whatever form and binds them to whatever rules the dimension now holds. 

There should still be some universal ‘laws’, though. For example, ghosts exist in both stories, and so do magic, as do spaces that operate at least SLIGHTLY outside the usual laws that govern the area outside of it (again, lairs and the Ghost Zone, dungeons in general). 

All this to say—when Danny ends up in the Dungeon Meshi world, he ends up being a very unorthodox and extremely powerful mage, but might lose a good percentage of his usual ghost powers. He is not salty about this, no, really, ITS FINE JAZZ.  

This would be less of a problem if there wasn’t a SLIGHT issue about halffoots being known as not being magically inclined… and those that might have had an interest in the past sorta-kinda got taken by the elves. 

Another note is that this isn’t going to be a particularly Fenton parents friendly sort of story, because the whole thing STARTS with them KIDNAPPING CHILDREN and passing them off as their own. I’m sure there are ways to spin it as a happy tale, but uhhhhhhhhhhh. I’m not. 

An additional point that you do NOT have to take from this if you make your own story is, if you’re a big fan of halffoots having tails (which, to fit with the humans-all-have-the-same-bones thing, are made of cartilage), you can have Danny have been docked as a baby by the Fentons. Adjust angst regarding that to your own tastes, but I imagine its probably something that HAD been done in the past for not-great-reasons, and so the social stigma for the parents doing that to their child is messed up—but due to the dangers of dungeoneering, some halffoots may have lost their tails in accidents or just because they were THAT serious. Point is, it’s at minimum a gossip point. 

Anyways, as halffoots are very short, and Danny is one, by age fourteen his teachers are probably going to go ‘uuuuhhhh, I think there’s a problem here?’ But the Fenton parents are oddly reluctant to arrange a doctor’s visit to check for various possible causes of potential dwarfism. Like, they’re already dodgy about doctor visits, but this seems particularly avoidant. 

Both Jazz and Danny might know that they’re adopted, but even if they don’t, they know where all their papers are. So they snoop through them to see if there’s any leads or anything. 

There’s various ways to for them to figure it out—realizing there’s no paper trail about their adoptions or about how delayed the at-home-birth paperwork was—but one that I did contemplate was that the Fentons KEPT the tail they cut off Danny as a baby, claiming it was a ‘lower spine surgery and don’t worry about it champ!’. 

As you might imagine, he’s worried about it. But also, you can nix that plot point if you’re not a fan. (Well, I mean it technically my own story developing here, but—part of this exercise is to see what other people would take away from what I’ve got too.)

More searching through papers and likely a conversation if not confrontation with the parents later, Jazz and Danny learn about the different realms and such. 

Jazz is still worried about Danny’s health. They SEEMED human, but what if they weren’t and they were just lucky to not have gotten super sick? Or what if they’ll live thousands of years or something?? 

Danny is, understandably, a little upset about everything too. So they both pack what they might need, basing their travel kits on what notes they DID have about the world they were heading to (minimal technology, so laptops were a bad idea, but Jazz did pack a bunch of instructional books on How To Make Things), and got the dimensional coordinates to where they needed to go. Or, if you don’t wanna explain HOW those dimensional coordinates are still accurate or how that system might work now that the Ghost Zone was there, because who knew how to navigate that place on a GOOD day, Danny could just ask Frostbite or Clockwork for a quick favor. On that note, Danny should probably have a way home—personally, I gave him the starting ability to make portals, although they’re not YET powerful to get through, which is why he’s concerned that he might actually be unwell on his human side. 

POINT IS. Jazz and Danny arrive, taking the name Nightingale just in case their parents went around calling themselves as Fenton and pissing people off by, oh say, kidnapping their child. 

A quick survey around tells them a bit about the world, with Danny probably very used to being very adaptable on the fly. And also we’ll let him keep invisibility. As a treat. Though it may now be a bit more difficult to do. Jazz is tasked to either help Danny to let him hide behind her presence when needing to actually be invisible, read through the travel journal from the Fentons to find clues to Danny’s birth family, and her own self imposed mission to reinvent running water and water filtration systems. She is not about this no-indoor-plumbing life. 

As it so happens, with the Golden Kingdom beginning to pop up, there’s plenty of spaces and houses in various states of repair that they’re currently REALLY trying to fill up. Jazz files some paperwork about being refugees, and they take a house that’s pretty far into the woods for most of the people looking for a place. The two need the space, as they are keeping literal dimensional secrets. Other than the lengthy walk to town, it’s fine. Plus, it lets Jazz do her plumbing project. 

Once they both have a pretty good grasp on things, Danny C-student Nightingale realizes OH. WHAT IF I’M A HALFFOOT— wait no I’m not going by that. Call me a hobbit instead. In Jazz’s defense, she spent most of her time grasping everything else about the world, or otherwise spent most of her time they spent either camping in the woods or making their new house LIVEABLE that the whole ‘different races’ thing completely sped by her. Plus, where they live might be more Tallman heavy. 

Good to know he’s healthy though! But they’re already here, and they do actually want to find Danny’s family, and… it’s just… been very nice and not stressful. The ghosts hadn’t been bothering Danny nearly as much back home, to the point where he felt pretty comfortable leaving it in Valerie’s capable hands, but this is the most relaxed he’s been in a while. It’s amazing what not living with people who would skin you semi-alive will do for mental health. 

They also realize they maybe need to like… make money. 

Good news is, when they switched dimensions, they automatically became able to speak Common. And, as a compensation for losing some of his other abilities, Danny can have omnilingualism. He also keeps his ice powers, mostly, and he’s pretty sure he kept his Ghostly Wail. 

There ARE reasons why he keeps the powers he does. In short, he’s still part ghost (or, part demon here, but words are just words and in this case, both just mean ‘realms being’), so turning invisible is fine. So is making things cold—and, as he’s also human and able to use magic, he can create ice like other mages do. He also has limited intangibility, but for reasons involving ‘I don’t recall any mages doing it’, he has more trouble with it than usual. As for the Ghostly Wail, its similar to the mandrake cry, and thus something that likely involves magic to do—as a veritable wellspring of magic, as he’s kinda sorta a dungeon master ruled by HIMSELF now, he has plenty to spare. Plus, banshee legends might still exist in Dungeon Meshi. As for the languages thing… it’s me throwing him a bone for taking away his ability to use lasers. I might let him overshadow people, but seeing as that just kills people in Dungeon Meshi, I might not. 

The two siblings begin taking odd jobs in town. The people think it’s a LITTLE odd that a Tallman (Jazz) and a Halffoot (HOBBIT, Danny) are siblings, but they usually just explain that they were both taken in by the same couple. If anyone even slightly insinuates it’s something else, the two both start gagging before they begin lecturing the gossiper. 

While Danny’s skills as an interpreter ARE extremely valuable, they find that with so many new people in this town that, apparently, JUST rose out of the gotdang sea, that there are many people looking for all sorts of odd things, and THAT is something Jazz is more suited for than translating, seeing as the only language that she knows from THIS world is Common. 

In short, she finds out about potions. You know, that thing mentioned like ONCE at the beginning of the Dungeon Meshi series and NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN (afaik). 

Ingredients are a liiiittle hard to come by in markets, but most of them just need magic to grow, right? And Danny can make magic ice that turns into magic water. 

Jazz starts a farm. When Danny starts taking home books and such to translate on a commission basis, mostly in order to avoid another close call about knowing ancient elvish languages that they may or may not be incredibly suspicious about him being able to know, he takes care of a lot of the gardening. 

It’s at this point that Danny finds out he can just take a mandrake that’s in a pot, dunk it in a barrel of water, and harvest that way. It’s still a bit LOUD, but it won’t harm or kill anyone. And, the water now has magic toxins or whatever, which could have uses of their own that Jazz is now experimenting with. 

So, basically, Jazz is out here doing the Dungeon Meshi Cooking Montages except its potions and it’s mildly terrifying. 

Danny is just glad that he’s ALSO legally a halffoot adult and can just go to town to a tavern whenever she’s being too weird. Good news: he can drink alcohol now! Bad news, sort of: it does nothing for him. I mean, go him for never getting drunk, but like, rude. 

Both Danny and Jazz are learning magic, mostly because Danny needs to offset some magic every now and again so it doesn’t build up (ie, his ice) and should at least look like he knows what he’s doing so he doesn’t get caught, and Jazz is learning so they can occasionally depend on her to claim that Danny’s magical whatever is actually HER doing. Plus, it helps with the potions. Most involve magical ingredients, so the maker doesn’t need to be a mage, but still. 

Danny gets a bit homesick about Sam and Tucker, so he makes a magic mirror in an afternoon and contacts them through one of Sam’s compact cases. It had some unique design she made on the back of it, so he’s able to hone in on it. Sam is EXTREMELY jealous that they’re living some kind of cottage witch fantasy, meanwhile Tucker is like ‘they have wHAT kind of meat? And you left me here?!’. 

Yeah. Tucker and Laois would get along, although Senshi would definitely have some words to say about his nutritional needs. 

SPEAKING OF the Dungeon Meshi characters. What, you think I wasn’t going to add them?

Falin likes to take walks through the area. As it so happens, the Nightingale House is about two hours of very casual strolling from the castle. She discovers them one day when she noticed Danny tending to the mandrake farm (there’s likely other magical plants, but I imagine Danny is wary of the more monster-like ones). 

Danny just can NOT keep her name in his head. He keeps calling her Bird Lady. Falin is not upset by this. She’s actually pretty glad to make somewhat friends with Danny and later Jazz, because they’re both pretty nonchalant about the feathers thing. Most are fine, but some are still… Off about her. Also they didn’t participate in the whole eating her thing, which she didn’t MIND but some people avoid her because they think she WOULD be upset. 

Falin is also glad to find that Danny can see ghosts like she can. She promised to keep his little magic secret, though she likely has no idea how powerful he actually IS, and she visits like twice a week. 

At some point, Itsuzumi claimed their front porch as one of her napping spots. Jazz thought they should maybe not have a cat girl sleeping on the doorstep. Danny agreed… by making a hammock. Jazz just accepted her fate and occasionally feeds her. That said, Itsuzumi doesn’t stay in one place as her ‘home’, so it’s a toss up if she’s there. Still, she somehow convinced the postmasters to only deliver mail to the Nightingales, seeing as they don’t mess with her letters and are out of the way enough that she has privacy when she does read them. If she’s there while it’s raining, she’ll take over the couch. 

Like, Itsuzumi doesn’t have keys to the house or anything, and Danny and Jazz are both a bit secretive, but that translates really well to respecting Itsuzumi’s privacy as long as she isn’t bringing huge problems to their doorstep. Danny did once offer to see about making up a guest room that was more or less hers—the house did need repairs, so some of the rooms weren’t quite habitable even if the house itself was fine to live in. Itsuzumi was not a fan of this, as I imagine her the type to not like feeling so tied down, but she did accept a compromise of having a closet space for her to store things. It’s where Danny and Jazz will put her letters when she DOES get them. 

Danny’s need to help people isn’t an obsession, but he IS quite fond of it, so as he does his work but also studies magic Just In Case, he finds a certain affinity for sensing magic, monsters, and breaking curses. The first one he broke was entirely by accident—the client had no idea that the book passages he gave to Danny were cursed. 

It worked out, it was fiiiine, stop worrying so much Jazz. 

While Danny certainly wasn’t advertising the curse breaking part, his previous client was told about it, and suddenly everyone knew that the Nightingales knew a little about curse breaking. They assume it’s Jazz, and Jazz has to learn on the fly how to break simple curses and protect herself until Danny can come actually work his literal magic. Jazz, oddly enough, is the one to figure out how to make protective charms. 

Also, she’s successfully made the first section of her water filtration system. 

Listen, they are very busy. But they’re hoping if they branch out enough, get a big enough system, they can find Danny’s parents. Because all they REALLY had to go on was One—They were halffoots, Two—Danny’s hair came from his mother, and Three—in both Jazz AND Danny’s cases, the Fentons kidnapped a twin. 

It’s this work as a cursebreaker and Jazz’s work as a near miracle worker at potions—her little mad scientist experiments were bearing fruit after all—that Falin brings Laios over to work with. Long story short, Danny’s general attitude about it is ‘fuck that lion guy’ because he recognizes the work of a ghost—er, demon—when he sees it. Sure, the Toudens don’t TELL Danny it was a winged lion, saying after a really long pause that the cursers name was Leo or whatever. But Danny isn’t completely stupid, especially not about something he can PLAINLY see. 

Also, a good note here is that neither Jazz nor Danny have ANY idea who Laios is. Sure, they’d HEARD of the King, but either Danny gave him a nickname, they think Laios is one of those cases where there’s an uptick of people named after a famous person, or it’s just a super common name. Or, heck, it’s entirely possible that Laios has a king monicker and that’s ALL that Jazz and Danny have heard, and they don’t know that the king’s name is Laios. 

Anyways, Danny is like ‘you have two curses from your frankly very petty curser’. And they’re like ‘yeah we know’. 

For the monster repellent curse, Falin points out (possibly on her own but also possibly remembering something Kabru said once) that it’s a pretty useful curse, but that it upsets Laios to have on him. So, Danny thinks ‘What Would Sam Do’ and makes a creepy doll. The idea is to attach the curse to the doll, but for various reasons involving having the curse NEED an amount of magic to stay going, it needs to be, well… fed. As you MIGHT recall from Dungeon Meshi, blood is pretty potent as a magic tool. 

So, anyways, blood sacrifice for the repellent doll curse, preferably either by Laios or someone of his blood. I’m sure this won’t become a plot point for a b rated adventure story several generations later where they need to find the One True Heir to help save the kingdom or whatever. 

As for the hunger curse, it’s a pretty tricky one. Most curses, Danny can kind of just. Push it out using his own magic, or trick it into thinking its done whatever the curse maker wanted it to do. But this curse is very ingrained, as hunger is something very basic to literally everyone, and it’s goal is basically ‘then SUFFER’ and that’s hard to make it understand when Laios is, technically, already and constantly suffering from it. 

So, it needs to be magically purged. Starve out the magic in Laios’s body, starve out the curse. Issue being that it’s EXCEPTIONALLY hard to do that when magic is LITERALLY in the air. 

With a bit of thinking, Danny comes up with a solution, and tells them to set up their creepy doll shrine and see him in three days. Also maybe haggles the price because while he DOES have a way to do this, it’s a bit risky to not only Laios but to the makers of Danny’s curse-breaking method. 

Danny contacts Sam, who contacts Frostbite, who is VERY against this but ultimately agrees so long as Danny is careful. Danny technically has Jazz do most of the next part, so he’s being cautious. 

The Toudens come back, with Laios happily chattering about a small monster he noticed just before they got to the Nightingales—good to know what the range of that is then, though it may have become smaller with the smaller vessel and the lesser amount of regenerating magic supplying it. I’m not looking up the one panel that sorta shows how big the field is right now. 

Danny is like, bundled up and covering his mouth, while Jazz is very careful with the prepared potions. 

Blood blossoms. Basically anti magic, which do not grow in this world naturally and should never do so, and involved Sam needing to travel back in time to grab a few. They explain their caution as Danny being extremely allergic to one of the ingredients and the effects of the potions being dangerous to mages in general by DESIGN. 

In short, Laios has to take these potions for three days—one bottle for each day—and to light a candle anointed with the potion in the forth bottle in a closed space he needs to stay in for the duration and at least an extra two days. There’s also a fifth bottle that he needs to sprinkle into any food or drink he has for that time until after the fifth day. Remember, magic is everywhere in Dungeon Meshi. This is basically him going into a sterile bubble field for a while, but also needing to include sterilizing the things he eats and drinks as well. 

“Don’t keep even a drop,” Danny warns them both very, very seriously. “This stuff shouldn’t exist here, but that is one NASTY curse you’ve got. Anything you’ve got leftover, including the bottles, bring back here.” 

He also tells them that its possible that Laios might never regain magical ability he had previous, or if he DID he had to relearn it. Laios accepts this risk. He wasn’t much for magic anyways. Danny also tells him to maybe make sure the room(s) he uses isn’t his usual bedroom, and again that he needs to stay in them as MUCH AS POSSIBLE, preferably not leaving at ALL, until after his treatment. 

They take his warnings seriously, at least, and they head off, carefully with the contents they just got. 

They actually do as instructed! Kabru did manage to take a drop, though, just to see what would happen. Holm’s undine DISSOLVED is what happened. Kabru did not take any more risks about that because WHAT the hell, WHAT. Laios and Falin also won’t tell him WHERE THEY GOT THIS FROM. At least, not until after they finish the treatment and see if it works. 

It does work though! He gets his normal hunger cues back after a couple of weeks, and Falin happily tells the Nightingales that it worked. Great! Never tell anyone what they did. Also give back the bottles please and thanks (handed off to Sam very carefully—although blood blossoms ARE a magic-and-ecto disruptor, they can be put through portals, such as the mirror phone things that technically also act as portals). 

A little late for total secrecy, but no one that the Toudens didn’t already trust with the numerous secrets they already had, including but not limited to Marcille’s fun necromancy habit. 

… Listen, I know that the curses Laios gets are like, consequences or something, but I didn’t like the hunger curse because of my own traumas and didn’t like the monster avoidance curse cause that just seemed cruel. Which I get was the point but I have OPINIONS on the whole thing, and it ultimately equals up to “Laios didn’t ask for this, and I’m not sure he’s actually happy in the end”. Anyways. 

Because they literally helped heal the king, Laios does invite them over to dinner in the castle. 

“That guy was a KING?!” Danny shouts. 

Jazz is just like. Yeah that fucking tracks. But hey we can ask his help about the parentage thing! 

So, now they’re going to dinner. That’s fun! Maybe! 

Side note, Jazz has now invented showers and indoor baths. She’s still working on a heating and cooling mechanism but at least all the water is clean. She’s still working on getting faucets for sinks, such as in the kitchen. 

Don’t ask how they have time for this, by the way. The gardening, their actual jobs of potion making and translations, Jazz’s plumbing project, Danny’s (and slightly Jazz’s) magic training, and the biological family search. To be fair, they probably have very few leads on that last one, so extending their social net is kind of their only plan. 

They get dressed up fairly nicely and go to the king’s castle for dinner because apparently Danny just cannot stop impressing royalty both dead AND ALIVE as it turns out. 

There, they meet the whole Touden party. Itsuzumi is there. Both parties are very surprised, but good to know, but also what. W h a t. 

Senshi likes hearing about how similar potion making and cooking is, and he and Jazz seem to be getting along pretty well! Chilchuck, meanwhile, is like. Why does this kid—sorry, young halffoot adult—look so gotdang familiar. Regardless, he offers to help teach him a few things about halffoot culture, seeing as Danny was apparently raised as a Tallman. 

“Yeah, we didn’t even know about other races! We just thought Danny was a little weird,” Jazz said. 

“That must have been really isolated,” Marcille replied. 

Oh, she didn’t even know the half of it. 

Of course, someone questions how Danny was so good with languages if their ‘isolated little village’ never said that any race other than Tallmen existed, to which Danny just kind of says he had a knack for it and was bored, so. Languages. They kind of just start following patterns after a certain point. And he and Jazz HAD been traveling for a while. 

Dinner goes well, with just one odd report about scratching in one of the mirror halls by the guards that Danny juuuust manages to hear before he and Jazz go out the doors. 

That’s probably nothing! 

A bit more time passes, with Senshi visiting Jazz and helping her learn ACTUAL cooking in exchange for those sweet sweet mandrakes and the water harvesting method while Danny gets lessons from Chilchuck and, ironically, another halffoot named Dandan about Halffoot culture. Luckily, Danny just so happened to know the halffoot language equivalent of Common, but they teach him a bit more about the language anyways. 

This is also when he learns that Halffoots tend to have twins, but also that it’s not terribly uncommon for one of the twins to die. Happened to both Dandan’s ex wife and to Chilchuck and also so, so many other halffoots. That just made Danny’s search even harder. Yikes. 

By week two, Danny is very tired of CONSTANTLY hearing the term halffoot, and so has requested Tucker get him a copy of the Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings trilogy to send through mirror-mail so that Danny can then translate THAT into Common and go publish. Maybe if he has a book or two to sell, he can make a passive income so he can concentrate on things other than translating YET ANOTHER tax form because the local government all wants Common—understandable—but not everyone can READ Common. 

This may be a time to give Danny a misadventure with some orcs that paint him as a fucking weirdo but ultimately friendly. 

Jazz gets the idea that hey, if the whole halffoots have lots of twins thing is true,  meaning that she and Danny are going to have a TIME of it trying to find HIS parents, maybe she and Danny should invent, like genetic testing with magic and or potions or whatever. It’s not like they don’t have an understanding of genetics, if what Kabru’s (adopted) mother teaches him is any indicator, but genetic testing it relatively modern by our own standards. 

So they start developing that. Falin still visits, mentioning how there seems to be a scratching that just won’t stop in the castle, but its always in the same hall of mirrors so at least its localized. Just, really weird. Everyone else thinks its ghosts, but Falin has checked so many times now and there just isn’t one. But Laios is doing fine, he’s very thankful, and Danny is like hahaha don’t mention it! No really, don’t! You already paid me! We had dinner! We’re friends now! Ahaha!

Should it be the case that Halffoots (-HOBBITS!) have tails, Chilchuck still has his, though it’s a liiiittle shorter than it should be, and he’s the sort thats proud about how long his wife and daughters’ tails are. He’s reconnecting with his family! Slowly but surely! In case you CAN’T tell, I actually like happy endings here. Despite the everything else I put in a story, ha. Anyways, as such, he’s a little offput by Danny’s parents since Danny admitted that they’re the ones who cut it off of him, and that even then they never told Danny that he wasn’t a Tallman despite having to have had at LEAST a clue that he wasn’t one. Shouldn’t the orphanage or however they got their kids from know? Don’t tell him that both Jazz AND Danny were just left on their doorsteps. 

“Definitely not that one, aha…” Danny quickly changes the topic. “So I wrote this story—or, well, its like this story that was SUPER popular where we’re from—“

Chilchuck also explains how Danny’s name is just SO weird to most of the other halffoots. Like, it’s not OUT there, per se, but definitely reads as Tallman. Even admitting its fully Daniel does not help. This is also when Chilchuck explains that part of the infant mortality rate, halffoots don’t get their names until their fourth month of life. 

Jazz made some liberties and changes to the Hobbit to fit in a little better with Dungeon Meshi and it’s whole world, but otherwise it’s mostly the same story. Chilchuck and Dandan get free copies as they’re helping Danny so much, especially with getting Danny used to other people like him (mostly). They’re both pretty impressed with it, though Danny insists that it wasn’t exactly his own writing. But, hey, the actual author was dead and he doubts any copies are going to come from his old hometown any time soon so like, might as well! 

Also, copyright law is probably far different in Dungeon Meshi than here, ha. I declare it—legally in the clear! 

Danny has a mission with this and that’s getting people to use the word Hobbit dammit! 

Surprisingly, despite not showing up in it, the gnomish community quite like it. And so do dwarves, and elves, and halffoots, and it becomes pretty popular. 

It’s The Hobbit. This is not an unexpected result. Thank you Chilchuck for helping with the printing rights and contracts for getting the book published. (And we can guess that the printing press DOES exist in Dungeon Meshi, since we can see the books they have—though there may be other obstacles about getting your hands on a book, we can see by the amount they have and how gimmicky Laios’ monster book is that printing a book itself is likely a done and solved issue in some way or another). 

Danny is extremely glad he did not put his own name as the pen name for that mess. 

While all that drama is happening, including the fact that Chilchuck’s wife—I have named her Brightmerry—is now a very avid fan and would love to meet Danny, Danny and Jazz have just about perfected their genetics test. Laios and Falin know about the test, although not WHY they’re doing it. Despite some concerns that the magic and chimeraism that probably STILL affects both, though Laios’s maybe got purged during the magic curse breaking thing, it certainly was unpleasant enough for him that he’d BELIEVE that he got part of him ripped out, they still seem to test just fine as siblings. Still, they need more tests. 

But it’s not like they know an entire family, do they? 

Danny complains about this issue to Dandan, in part to see if Dandan knew anyone that MIGHT be willing to help. 

As it so happens, Dandan volunteers Chilchuck. Chilchuck only agrees to drag his family into it because he generally trusts Danny and Jazz even if they ARE kind of weird and make incidental inventions at their house that they should REALLY sell, because WHAT do you MEAN you have a hot water shower?! He also knows that both Brightmerry and Fullertom would like to meet Danny because of the book he totally did not steal from another dimension to make a profit. Might as well drag the rest. Plus, they assure that the test itself won’t hurt, and will even demonstrate with themselves and with the Toudens what a false and what a positive result will look like. 

So, they arrange a date to do so at the castle. Kabru is pretty interested in the experiment, truthfully, because it seems neat! Not at all because of his own issues with his hometown involving his eye color! Why do you ask! 

Off they go, and the best space to do this in due to some preparation and magic circle nonsense is the same room Laios did his whole magic purge, which was the mirror hall. It’s small but open, with no windows except for a small one in an attached restroom area. Sure, there’s some creepy scratching going on from time to time, but no one has gotten hurt or recorded anything else odd. 

The magic genetics test involves having the participants positioned equally around a magic circle in little circles of their own, having a small cup of a potion that gives off a lot of steam or vapor—entirely harmless-, and pricking a drop of blood into the potion. What happens with a positive is that the vapor takes on a color and follows a trail through the magic circle, and the colors and how strong the connection between the vapor trails between two people tell how related they are. In a negative or, when two parents are in the circle, the vapor trails will not have ‘matching’ or similar colors, and the trails will not actually meet up with each other. 

It’s still a work in progress, but it should tell at least siblings. Luckily, Chilchuck did manage to get all three of his daughters and his wife along, with Dandan being invited as another variable to test with. 

Danny and Jazz go first, showing how their trails don’t meet up. And there’s not a particular meaning to what color a vapor trail is to a person—it can change and vary for each test, it’s only consistent when it’s a ‘positive’. 

Than Laios and Falin. Fittingly enough, their trails are fairly strong, with just a few different trails fraying off, and slightly different shades of green-ish yellow coming from their potion cups. 

The Chilchuck Family then take a turn, and they can observe the trails. Sure enough, Chilchuck and Brightmerry don’t have any connection, but seem to match and meet with each of their daughters’ trails, who also connect to each other in a web of vapor. They decide that maybe more than three is hard to read. 

They agree to do a couple of combinations and tests, which Jazz and Danny are like ‘sorry for all the finger pricks!’ But they DID bring a bunch of sterilized needles at least. And Falin is happy to heal them in the meantime—using the space as an anti magic purge room seems to not have left an affect on the magic now in the space. 

Dandan joins a few times so they can record how he doesn’t match at all. Laios then mentions why Danny isn’t doing that when they explain he’s adopted and therefore for all he knows, he’s distantly related. 

Which prompts them to have him test with Dandan and Chilchuck. 

He doesn’t match Dandan. 

But he does match Chilchuck. 

This does not change when he repeats the experiment. 

They then switch out Chilchuck for Brightmerry. 

… And he matches to Brightmerry. 

SEVERAL different trials later involving all the halffoots there confirms it. 

Somehow. Someway. 

He is Chilchuck and Brightmerry’s child. 

Are you surprised? Probably not that was a twist coming a mile away not going to lie. 

Anyways, the story THEY give is that he’s Puckpatti’s twin. They’d been napping outside while with one of Chilchuck’s brothers, when something or another distracted said brother for, at most, two minutes. But then Puckpatti’s twin was gone. He was stolen, although they hadn’t actually KNOWN what had happened, when he was three months. It’s why Puckpatti’s name was, well. Puckpatti. Puck was supposed to be her twin’s name, and they considering having her be Pattipuck, but Puckpatti worked better. It wasn’t particularly odd for twins where only one survived to carry the other twin’s name as either their first or second name. This is also why her usually nickname is Patti instead of Puck. 

Danny and Jazz explain that… yeah, they were taken in. As in kidnapped. Hadn’t wanted the pity points but saying they were adopted felt kiiiiinda wrong. 

Now, this would be a very touching family reunion scene. 

Except now that mirror scratching has started up. 

And its loud. 

And—Oh would you look at that. 

Mirror portal. 

Can you guess who pop through? 

It’s the Fentons! Say Hello to Jack and Maddie. 

It’s a whole confrontation scene, which BASICALLY goes with Maddie and Jack absolutely NOT realizing anything they did wrong, insisting they SAVED Danny, that there were two and it was fine, and BESIDES, JAZZ wanted a little sibling and when ASKED she asked for a brother, so really, its her fault. 

Jazz gets a guilt complex! Chilchuck tells the Fentons that thats NOT HOW THIS SITUATION WORKED, SHE WAS TWO! 

Jazz also has a horrifying memory of when she was four and Danny was two, and asking if they’d like a younger sibling, and that they’d have to agree, but Jazz said yes and Danny said NO and was this why there were only two of them?!?

Danny disowns them, pointedly saying that cutting off a baby’s tail is kind of MESSED UP DON’T YOU THINK.  And they go, well if you’re going to be ungrateful—and he gets like, hella hurt. 

More arguing and fighting, and Danny just kind of lays there and lets himself heal before propping himself back up like. Did. Did you think that would work. You have a magic science workshop that I regularly cleaned did you NOT THINk. THAT WOULD NOT HAVE AN AFFECT. 

The Fentons go ‘oh, he’s a ghost’ and disown him right back, though not in so many words. Whichever members of the Dungeon Meshi group you imagine are there right now take it as ‘he’s a MAGE?!’ 

Danny tricks the Fentons back through the mirror portal and shatter it. From what he guesses, the magic purging done to Laios let there be a slight thinning in the natural magical-ecto-whatever barrier that protected this world from another one. The Fentons didn’t know where the kids went, but might have figured out they went to another world, but couldn’t locate the notes to locate the Dungeon Meshi world. So, instead, they tracked Danny and Jazz themselves. With all the blood testing Danny did in the same room with a thinning veil, that meant they were finally able to break through by using him as an ‘anchor’ to follow through the mirrors. 

Universal constants, remember? Both magic mirrors AND portals are things in both worlds. 

Danny takes this time to go ‘well, they already know anyways’, and uses the opportunity and also all his blood now on the floor to make some quick magic barrier things with Jazz’s help. She’s better at protection sigils, after all, but he’s the more magically powerful. Together, they sort of ‘lock’ the dungeon meshi world. Or, more accurately, they lock out a certain scientific couple. And, because three is a stronger number for magic, they also block out Vlad. Three birds, one stone. 

THEN Danny passes out, you know, like a champion. 

Once awake and reunited with everyone, things begin to simmer down. Sure, Danny was just exposed as a powerful mage to the King, but the king is just like ‘Eh, won’t mention it, I don’t know anything I’m barely sure how I became king most days and I was THERE’. Marcille probably finds out, either because she was there or she’s just really good at finding out things she absolutely should not, also possible interest from a long time over Jazz and Danny and their whole deal. But she’s also just like NEAT. Translate these texts for me and we’re even. 

Danny is not convinced about her smile but goes with it regardless. 

Chilchuck and family are cautiously open to Danny. Of course they’re glad to have him home, but also—he’s lived his entire life ELSEWHERE, so while Chilchuck knows the most about him, he’s still a stranger. 

A few cute fluffy bits about learning about his siblings and his mother and father. Notably—Chilchuck is APPALLED that any child of his doesn’t know how to properly lock pick. Even Fullertom, the MOST disinterested in his line of work, is well aware of how to do it. Brightmerry is fond of reading, and Danny has lots of stories she’s never heard of going through his head. He insists they’re just local stories he’s heard of here and there, but she’s like. Suspicious of it. Not enough to cause him to stop telling her them, though. He also learns of the interests of his sisters, and is also like WHAT. WHAT DO YOU MEAN I’M STILL THE BABY. 

The three girls are also fond of Jazz, surprisingly enough. Like, I’d hardly call them besties, but they get along pretty well. Especially when teasing Danny. Jazz tells them of the occasions she’d dress Danny up as a princess when they were little, and next thing Chilchuck knows, he’s walking in to see his son—not resisting being dolled up, because he loves his sisters already, but also very clearly hoping for an out. 

“Have fun,” he says and leaves immediately before his daughters can drag him into it too. 

Jazz has completed her indoor plumbing project! They no longer have a latrine and cesspit! They have proper toilets AND a filtration system for both incoming AND outgoing water, and along the way she’s made a waterwheel for electricity to power the filtration system AND the heating and cooling systems. They’re ALMOST modern at the Nightingale house! 

From here, things are a bit more loose. 

Danny makes gifts for his family for some kind of festive holiday. For Chilchuck, he gets a wood carving for the night each of his children were born, as well as his own birthday and Brightmerry’s. Since Meijack and Fullertom are twins, as are Puckpatti and Danny, this means four carvings. Each carving is technically a thin piece of darkly painted wood with holes drilled through, but when a light is shined onto the correct side, such as a candle or Jazz’s next project involving lightbulbs, it projects out the night sky. 

Danny consulted a LOT of astrological charts for this thing, but due to how close their dimensions are, the stars were mostly the same between the two. It’s not a universal constant, but the closer two dimensions are, the more similarities there are. 

After all, the Fentons were trying to slip BETWEEN dimensions, which is kind of like sewing but only going through to BETWEEN two pieces of fabric, even if the fabrics are already rubbing against each other. In other words, precision was needed, and there was no point in aiming for a FAR dimension for this, that was more likely to end in failure. 

An alternate for Chilchuck is that Danny finds alcohol in the Infinite Realms to give him, if you want Danny to have more free access to the Realms. Just warns him to only drink it if he WANTS to be completely sloshed, and to maybe not do that at home, haha. 

Anyways, for Brightmerry, he gives her not the next one, but the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, translated and edited for the Dungeon Meshi world. He assures his father they’ll get a copy for print later, but this was the first edition and it was for Brightmerry. 

Meijack got an armband for easily hold and quick access to her most common picklock tools. Kind of like a bracer or that sliding blade thing from Assassins Creed. 

Fullertom, Danny gave her a bunch of blue ribbons and accessories. Jazz had to point out for him that this meant he was supportive of her desire for marriage—Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Usually a tradition reserved for the marriage, but anyways. 

As for Puckpatti, he makes her a magic compass. No matter where she is, she can always ask her to point it where she wants to go. North, South, the next town, home, to a specific person, so on. The first thing she has it point to is to Danny. It’s a much more touching moment than I am capable of writing right this second. 

Uhhhh a plot point I hadn’t integrated yet was that Danny absolutely cannot cook with meat. It was started in the ‘they met during canon dungeon adventure times’ but I hadn’t translated it fully yet. Basically, when Danny tries to cook with meat, it comes alive—like the turkey or the hot dogs in canon, and SOMEWHAT like the familiars do. Of course, it’d be really weird to be able to do that without even trying, and possibly mildly illegal, so they just have Danny not cook meat. Then a draft came to be where Danny was like ‘fine I’ll just SHOW YOU’ to Senshi, and if it was in the dungeon, then he’d use them against a monster, and if it was during post canon, it’d be against his parents. Then the point of WHY all or most of them were together during the Fenton’s break in changed from the dinner party to the genetics test, and there was no reason for Danny to have been cooking. 

Danny finds and introduces Fullertom to a dwarf that she starts dating. Chilchuck isn’t sure if he should be concerned or impressed with the portfolio Danny pulls out when Chilchuck asks about the dwarf and what Danny knows about him. 

Another plot point for why Jazz and Danny were staying so long, outside of finding Danny’s birth family since we have now figured out he WAS developing normally and the whole portal thing was just sorta because of how tricky that power is, is that Princess Dora wanted Danny to find a good host for the Necklace of Aragon so that her brother could no longer claim it. It would, predictably, eventually go to Laios. Also, I am starting to realize I am more partial to Laios than the other characters, whoops. Anyways, I hadn’t figured out if I could or even SHOULD integrate that into the plot. 

Payment for the blood blossoms were going to include five of Fallin’s feathers. They’re magically powerful, and three of them were going to be used for each name that was ‘blocked’ from the Dungeon Meshi world. So one feather for Jack, one for Maddie, and one for Vlad. I haven’t decided if I’d keep that or not, but I also wasn’t sure what to do with the other two feathers, and just asking for three and that HAPPENS to work out, the number being considered magic aside, felt a bit off and too convenient. 

Danny would eventually take on a new name in honor of his birth family. Danbright Chils. Dan is him, obviously, and since he’d be taking Chils for Chilchuck, he decided to take Bright for Brightmerry. (I actually debated between Bright or Bridge. So either Brightmerry and Danbright or Bridgemerry and Danbridge. This is directly because of Danny’s ‘be the bridge’ thing.)

Things are just starting to settle… 

Then, Sidney of all people shows up in Danny’s magic communication mirror. And we get information that due to Jazz and Danny’s mild meddling with the magic-ecto-whatever barriers, that Jazz’s twin has become aware of the fact she once had a twin—basically, Inspector Gordon kind of ‘felt reminded of [Jazz]’ and told Barbara about it. And since Barbara is part of the superheroes club, she was able to find out that not only was her twin alive, but in an entirely different dimension entirely. 

Annnnd that’s all I got. 

It’s a lot! Don’t expect me to publish it! Have a nice day! 

[zerguette]

Ari whiteboard doodles part 2

In order, first one for @ceresfromnationstates his Rupert and Peter!. Then Argine for @kursed-curtain !!! I love pretty woman...i love her so much. Third one for @hammerhead-art, FIVER AND JUNIOR WOOO I LOVE EM (dw bestie i swear i'll answer Ur req and show Ur babies I PROMMY)

Fourth one for @bluetorchsky !! Zar and The Twins(Florence and Aurelia)!!!!, Then Liam for Mysterious Person :3, lasts ones for @thechaoticsaisk , Spike and Opal with their partners (who are my ocs^^, guys pls go and read my wifeys comic is good, i love it)

Bonus: ^^ i love these doodles hehe

[13eyond13]

Will never understand authors spoiling their novel's plot in the introductions they write for them tbh

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

So for spooky season (my favorite season) I wanna write more Ghostmmet oneshots, or at least one or two other ones! I have several ideas lol

But I also wanna write a noncanon crossover with ABYS, where instead of being found in time in ABYS, Emmet dies and becomes a ghost and things get real crazy around the station for a while.

Would people be interested in that, or do y'all think it would be too much? I have. Several ideas, and I think it would be so fun to focus on the spooky horror aspect. Something something a violent end leads to a violent awakening, classic haunting shit, stuff like that. More info in the tags of this post :)

I'd say it would still come to the same conclusion as like. He Trusts You.

But I don't know! Tell me what you think, preferably in comments of this post instead of in separate asks :) Thank you guys preemptively for feedback!

[kakusu-shipping]

Me? Writing my Balan Wonderworld: Maestro of Mystery, Theatre of Wonders Self Insert chapter? Yeah why not. The tag's already full of OCs and S/Is, might as well add mine into the ring.

Bookworm

Balan Wonderworld Self Insert fic based on the novelization

Streetbeat ran his hand along the brick walls of the town around the Checkered King's castle as they walked, staring at his shoes as he pictured the girl, Fighter, and the man in the hat in his mind.

Who were they? What did they want? Why was he the only one who didn't see anything else...?

The texture along Streetbeat's fingers pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to the wall to see no longer medieval stone work, but books lined perfectly on a shelf that seemed to stretch up into forever.

The floor beneath his feet was no longer black and white tiles, but deep, chocolate brown wood. The narrow alley replaced with tall, cherry red wood stained bookshelves nearly over flowing with thickly bound novels.

Clocktower Kid and Pensive Pierrot turned a corner, with Streetbeat close on their tail, and came out to a skylighted library lobby. Plush seats, couches, pillows, and reading nooks filled every space that wasn't occupied by tables with piles upon piles of books. Transparent residents sat scattered around the area. There was a hush of chatter that never grew loud enough to make out words, like a soft static.

Clocktower kid made her way easily though the maze of plush chairs and towering book stacks to the front desk, which was just as over run by books as every other flat surface. She knocked politely on the large oak desk and called out into the room behind

"Helloooo? Bookworm, are you in?"

From around the corner came a puff of white hair, followed by the face of a young man. His bright red eyes looked almost unnaturally large behind a pair of oversized golden glasses.

"Ooooh! Clocktower kid! Pensive! Hello hello! One moment please!" The man called Bookworm called excitedly before disappearing back into the room behind the desk.

Streetbeat navigated the maze of chairs with the help of Pensive Pierrot and found himself glancing around the building he'd found himself in.

The walls were tall, and while in the stacks the bookshelves seemed to stretch indefinitely, from where he stood now they seemed completely reasonably sized, though he couldn't see the end of alleyways they made. On the ceiling was a large pane of glass in the shape of a tear drop, like the strange crystals that appeared in everyone's stage. Evening sunlight poured in and made the library almost seem to glow with warmth.

Finally, Bookworm stepped out of the backroom, placing a pile of books taller than himself on his desk, "Sorry for the wait." He spoke, pushing the books off to one side, "Shelving."

Bookworm's eyes fell on Streetbeat and lit up in realization.

"Oh! You're Streetbeat! It's so nice to finally meet you." He smiled and reached out a hand, Streetbeat assumed for a handshake and met him half way

"Yeah, likewise-" He began, only to stare in wonder as Bookworm placed a novel in his out stretched hand.

The book was wine red with golden lettering, the word Waltz was written in cursive at the top. There was no author or any sort of cover photo, just the title.

"what's...?" Streetbeat was so caught off guard he couldn't form a full question, he just looked quizzically up at Bookworm, who beamed back at him, seemingly proud of himself.

"Ah, that's how Bookworm welcomes people, he liked to recommend us all novels in his collection. I still haven't finished the one he loaned me..." Pensive explained, scratching the back of his head with a shy smile.

"I finished mine!" Clockwork Kid bragged, "And it was sooooo good I started reading it AGAIN!"

"Oooh, I'm so glad you liked it~" Bookworm cooed, resting his elbows on the desk, leaning closer to Clocktower Kid, "You know when the Prince stole poor Mary away-"

"Aaaaah I read all night to get past that part! I couldn't imagine Mary with anyone other than Atticus!!" Clocktower Kid squealed, pacing a bit in place.

Bookworm nodded, "They get there in the end of course but that carriage accident, oh and the poor bunny, it's just all too stressful!" The short man sighed, then sat up straight and clapped his hands, "But enough about that! Are you three here to peruse the stacks?"

"Actually," Pensive spoke, "we came to talk to you. We think something bad might be happening in Wonderworld."

As Pensive Pierrot explained the visions everyone had been having of the girl and the man in the hat, Streetbeat took a moment again to look around the library.

Every stage so far had been missing something, something obvious to everyone but the stage's inhabitant. He thought it was weird the novel Bookworm had given him didn't have an author on it, but it wasn't unheard of, so he decided to do a little snooping, just to be sure.

Streetbeat picked up a random book from one of the stacks on a nearby low table, it was a deep forest green with the word Nightfall written in bold golden lettering. The one under it was a soft baby pink, the word Daybreak was seemingly stamped on in a deep blue simple font.

The one under than and the one under that followed suit, a single color cover with a one word title and no author.

Streetbeat put all the books back where he'd gotten them and turned back to the group, where Bookworm was now standing with his arms crossed, biting the tip of his thumb.

"I... I have... seen them..." He admitted hesitantly, glancing at the stack he'd pushed to the side before, which seemed now unbalanced and ready to topple at any moment.

"Did you see anything else?" Pensive asked as Streetbeat came to his side again.

Bookworm seemed to hesitate, biting harder at the tip of his thumb as he glanced around the library lobby.

"I saw a monster," Clocktower Kid admitted, putting her hand on the desk in front of Bookworm, "it was scary.. I didn't wanna talk about it either.."

Bookworm released a sigh he'd been holding at Clocktower Kid's confession and placed his hand on hers, holding it. He closed his eyes a moment and took a deep breath, the tower of books next to him stopped swaying.

"I saw a building... It was huge, and the doors were open like I was supposed to go in but I... I felt like going in would be my doom... Like I'd be trapped there forever..."

Clocktower Kid held Bookworm's hand tightly in her own, a look of sympathy on her face.

Bookworm took another deep breath, "Who is he? The man in the hat?"

"We don't know," Streetbeat placed his hand on the desk, "But we think something bad's going to happen."

Bookworm looked between the three of them, then squarely at Pensive, "Have you spoken to Lance?"

Pensive winced at the question, glancing first to Streetbeat, then Clocktower kid, before sighing, "Yeah... He warned us to stay out of it..."

Bookworm released Clocktower Kid's hands and stood up straight, "Then that's what I'll do." He turned and picked up half the books from the stack beside him, then walked off into the bookselves.

"Wait!" Streetbeat followed quick on his heels, Pensive hesitating only to follow as Clocktower Kid raced after the two of them.

"Aren't you worried? Somethings happening, these visions, they're not nothing!" Streetbeat argued when he caught up to Bookworm, who shelved books without so much as looking.

"If Lance says it's better to stay out of it, I trust him." Bookworm spoke matter-of-factly, pushing along a large latter on wheels.

"But what if something happens to Wonderworld?"

"Lance will take care of it, he takes care of us."

"But-"

Pensive Pierrot put his hand on Streetbeat's shoulder to stop him, he and Clocktower kid both shook their heads.

Streetbeat sighed and nodded, admitting defeat. He looked down at the Waltz book in his hand before setting in on a nearby self.

He followed the two down the seemingly never ending rows of books until they found themselves standing amidst ancient ruins, the stage of a man called Invisible Custodian.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[cam-the-orange-cat]

okay

so i'm writing a DCU fan fiction, and (as I often do) I got so stuck in my own head about writing the DCU characters "accurately" that I ran myself straight into a creative brick wall. To combat this, I started reading the comics of the characters I'm using and oh my god...

I've made a lot of jokes that DC "writes fan fiction of their fan fiction"—like, it shouldn't be called The Detective Comics Universe. It should be called the Detective Comics Alternative Universes. But I had forgotten how truly inconsistent and difficult to track some of these stories and arcs are. Don't get me wrong—I absolutely love DC. I'm a die-hard DC fan, always have been and always will be.

BUT OH MY GOD

I SWEAR

I'm convinced the writers have like, a singular piece of scratch paper and they're essentially playing a game of narrative telephone between comic issues. It's absolute whiplash sometimes. I got through a major arc and am still not entirely sure what I just read.

And I feel much better about writing these characters.

[cornsarts]

I feel like I make this kind of post fairly frequently but I would once again like to thank everyone for being here, from the very bottom of my heart. It means so much to me that people stick around, interact, say kind things in tags and comments. Being an artist on the web has its trials and tribulations but I've always felt like one of the lucky ones. My art comes from a place of self indulgence. I have a lot of love for it and put a lot of love into it and the fact that people are also able to derive a similar feeling from it means the world. I cannot stress it enough. So thank you, thank you, thank you.

[ybetzarts]

Your artwork looks amazing! The way you ink your drawings is so good :D

*clears throat*

"An all caps 'THANK YOU'... a star and erm ...a bunch of other emojis." he means 💥🤧

"'This really warms my heart', with a heart right at the end. There."

[peachy-artist]

I DONT READ A LOT OF FANFIC, SO IF ANYONE WRITES ANY GOOD PAVRIN ONES YOURE OBLIGATED TO TAG ME (please)

[catastrxblues]

read more than 50 pages while i was outside today!!!!!!! where’s my trophy