#(but without any actual benefit *for* damian to be clear. damian might be the first string robin but that doesnt actually mean his char+ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

Text

Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed.

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce.

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear?

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it.

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair.

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want?

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered.

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled.

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did.

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.”

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different.

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long.

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman.

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better.

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

—

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later.

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help.

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois.

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce.

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out.

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong.

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed.

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

--------------------

Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours

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2K notes · View notes

bigskydreaming · 3 years

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What kills me in fics is when you have tags going like "Good brother Jason", which, cool, but in the same story there's " Dick TRIES to be a Good Brother" LOL way to switch the dynamics. I also tend to stay clear of the ones where the centric character seems to have a platonic relationship tag with everyone (including the ones where they're antagonists in canon like Jason & Tim) except Dick. You can feel the hate/dislike/prejudice a MILE away.

Yeeeeeeah. You are definitely not alone. Like pretty much every Dick Grayson stan I’ve ever talked to on the subject stays the hell away from any fic tagged “Dick Grayson tries to be a good brother.”

LOL like....it’s basically what I was talking about in that older post I just reblogged a few minutes ago. That thing where Dick’s actions or choices in a canon story or fic aren’t judged on their own merits but are rather inherently weighed against some hypothetical perfect choice that he DIDNT make and so he’s basically evaluated based on how much he falls short of that mark each time instead of anything he actually did.

Sorry not sorry, but I’m just not interested in stories that TRANSFORM the character most commonly referred to as the emotional glue of the family and the only one who consistently even CARES about them all being a family....into the fumbling incompetent relationship disaster man who at best gets credit for at least putting in an attempt at being there for his family.

Especially not when Bruce and Jason and Tim are praised for doing the bare minimum in canon when it comes to family interactions while everything Dick ACTUALLY did is just completely ignored and overwritten in order to make his Failure to People Good the narrative obstacle to be overcome.

Now, the “Dick Grayson Tries To Be A Good Brother” tag applied to Tim-centric fics in particular tho....hoo boy I am out of there so fast there’s a Kool-Aid Man shaped hole in the wall and not a sign of me as far as the horizon.

Like, currently my Pet Peeve Thermostat is set to Battle for the Cowl-referencing fics that don’t use this tag but very much are in that spirit. You probably know the ones, like their summaries suggest they’re open to considering Dick’s side of the situation but turns out the author at most is throwing him a “well at least you tried not to suck” bone while still reading him the riot act for very much still sucking.

Because what drives me up a flipping WALL here in particular, when I naively click on a link that seems different from the usual and ignore the voice of experience because I’m just desperate enough for Tim and Dick food that doesn’t just go on and on about how Dick ruined their brotherhood and it will never be truly repaired....

What makes the fruit bats in my belfry go absolutely B-A-N-A-N-A-S is not just the super fun realization that Psych! You thought this fic might be different but it’s actually the same!

Nah.

It’s how much people, both writers AND commenters, just absolutely LOVE to reference Tim’s shitbag parents and how emotionally abusive and neglectful they were (all true and valid, btw, let’s be totally clear about that)....but bringing them up here specifically to emphasize just how great Dick’s ‘betrayal’ was and how what he did makes him no better than them.

It’s like. Oh. I see.

So because after twenty years worth of stories about Dick dropping everything the second Tim needs him, whether it’s for help or just advice or even just reassurance or comfort or ANYTHING ....because after two decades worth of content showing Dick absolutely doting on Tim in their EVERY SINGLE interaction and buttressing his self confidence at every opportunity, never passing up a chance to call him his brother and emphasize that they’re family and he loves Tim and is so proud of him...

Because after all that there’s a story whose very premise forced Dick to choose between two kids, both still very much his brothers and their shared father’s sons even if one was new to him and didn’t have the same history the other two had....

Because by the very nature of the story Dick had no choice but to prioritize one over the other due to them both hating each other and Dick already being stretched to his absolute limits trying to live his dead father’s life and take on everything Bruce used to do at the cost of giving up everything Dick had chosen for his own life and wants and priorities, all while dealing with his own grief....

And with it being inevitable that the boy he DIDNT choose to prioritize was going to be hurt....

Because after twenty years of never failing to put Tim first the second Tim needed him, never even putting HIMSELF first OVER Tim....because for the first time Dick felt that someone else he felt obligated to, felt a responsibility towards, actually needed him MORE than Tim....

And for that reason and that reason ONLY, Dick picked that other boy, all while trying his best to tell Tim that he still needed him, still valued him, all the things that Bruce DIDNT tell him when he took Robin not even because he thought someone else needed it at the time but simply to take away, with absolutely nothing Dick said in any way negating or contradicting any of his many, MANY assurances to Tim over the years that they were brothers and always would be and with them still very much legally brothers and with concrete ties to each other that declared them family even WITHOUT the connection of Robin....

Because after and despite ALL OF THAT, Dick picked the brother that he didn’t know and frankly didn’t even LIKE, because he knew no one else was going to pick this kid and he also knew he’d already picked Tim a hundred times before and hoped that at least all that HISTORY of past focus and attention he’d given Tim to help build him up, give him foundations to build further upon, that hopefully at least that history that was still there, still relevant, still something Tim had actively benefited and grown from in ways Dick now hoped to help Damian....like surely this would be of at least SOME significance to Tim, SOME kind of proof of how much Dick loved and valued Tim....

Because one time and one time ONLY, Dick DIDNT put Tim’s needs first, not because he didn’t want to or because he was being selfish or short sighted or simply didn’t care, but rather solely because this one time Tim’s needs were in direct opposition with the needs of another young boy Dick saw as his responsibility and in even greater need and with even less of a foundation than the one Dick had helped Tim build....

This puts Dick on the same level as Tim’s shitbag parents, the ones who are infamous for (and practically synonymous with) emotional abuse and neglect. Dick’s basically interchangeable with them now. Certainly no better than them. Tim’s entire emotional well-being rested on Dick and Dick alone and nothing he’d provided Tim with in the past counts, just this one moment in time right here right now, that’s the entirety of their relationship see, it all comes down to this and nothing else, and because Dick didn’t put Tim first, no matter WHAT his reasons or how much he wanted to, he has officially failed Tim as hard as the neglectful parents who did nothing BUT neglect, ignore and just not give a shit at all, simply because they couldn’t be bothered to.

Yeah.

That’s neat.

#and please before certain people get all up in their righteous umbrage and declare a blood feud against me for this #take note of how nowhere did I say Tim doesn’t have the right and reason to be hurt #because of course he does #you will never see me claiming otherwise #but just because someone was hurt that doesn’t mean that someone did it to hurt them #and that is the distinction so many fans don’t seem to care to make #I’ve literally seen people call Dick emotionally abusive and neglectful for this era of canon and holy shit people #in terms of abuse specifically you absolutely can be abusive without meaning to #hell this is basically the nature of neglect. they’re not TRYING to hurt a child because the entire problem is the child #doesn’t even rate as much of a presence in their awareness as they should #but people can yell it’s just their interpretation all they want about this era of canon #but it’s flat out not true. it’s their transformation of the material not an interpretation of it #because you literally have to CHANGE what Dick ACTUALLY says to Tim to paint him as neglectful or not caring about his emotional well-being #you have to CUT OUT all mention of the times Dick tried reaching out to Tim or checking up on him in order to paint Dick as simply moving #on with his shiny newer little brother #that’s not a difference of interpretation. that’s an act of transformation. changing details of a story that isn’t reading the way you want #it to....until it DOES say what you want it to #and the problem has NEVER been some of us just being unwilling to let people have their headcanons #the problem is people’s refusal to call them headcanons or AUs or anything that acknowledges they’ve transformed the source material #in order to CREATE the interpretation they’re going with #AND OTHER FANS HAVE EVERY RIGHT IN THE WORLD TO SAY YEAH WE’RE NOT TRYING TO TALK ABOUT YOUR TRANSFORMATION OF CANON THO #we’re literally trying to talk about what you transformed it FROM....and the fact that despite all your complaints about canon character #choices....some of you repeatedly make the CHOICE to change canon not just to fix or address the poor character choices you don’t like for #your faves.....but also at the same time making this other character do the very stuff you claim to hate canon having your faves do #and that is your CHOICE. AND YOU GET TO MAKE IT. BUT IT IS STILL A CHOICE TO MAKE CHANGES #NOT simply a different interpretation of the foundational material #like you guys keep trying to pass it off as #and that MATTERS #it matters quite a lot in fact

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boldlyanxious · 4 years

Text

Suspect-- Remember when 11

Timinette

RW masterlist

The bright light filled the room.

Red Robin covered his eyes in shock at the sudden light.

"I wasn't supposed to do that," Marinette said.

The pink flash happened too fast for them to notice the red blur that zipped into her dress pocket. She looked down and her hands were no longer bound. She pushed off to move to the exit but found the combination of standing quickly while still under the influence of the drug she was given caused her to nearly fall over.

Red Robin moved over to catch her before she fell over, astonished that the quiet barista he had a crush on was the same as the bold, masked woman who shamelessly flirted with him. He turned back to the others who were also getting over the sudden brightness and figuring out what had happened.

"Well, are you happy now that she has been revealed?" Red Robin said angrily.

"No. I need far more information about why she is here," Batman said coolly.

"Are we dancing or is there room still spinning?" Marinette interrupted their angry staring contest.

Red Robin tried to stabilize her but she pulled away and pointed at Nightwing as if she was seeing him for the first time. She took several steps before she decided on words. No one felt like she posed much of a risk at this point so they just watched.

"When you got a cupcake for your brother, did you mean him?" she whispered in a loud voice while pointing back at Red Robin.

"What are you talking about?" Batgirl asked.

"What makes you say that?" Nightwing asked her.

She didn't answer. She pitched forward and collapsed. Nightwing barely reached out in time to catch her. There was a flurry of movement as everyone tried to help her at once. None of the team there had more than basic medical training so they gave her an IV for hydration and electrolytes. Her blood pressure was a little elevated and her pulse was fast but nothing was overly concerning and she was somewhat responsive.

Red Robin pushed to move her back to base where Alfred and Damian both had more medical training and to protect her identity by not taking her to a hospital.

---

When she came to, she couldn't immediately remember what happened. She tried to lift herself but everything hurt. She groaned and then heard movement in response. That didn't make sense because no one should be in her apartment and that didn't sound like Tikki. She opened her eyes and looked around.

The first thing she noticed was that she definitely wasn't in her apartment. Her arm had an IV but the location was not a hospital. It reminded her of a bunker. It might have once been a cave but it had clearly been hollowed out and things were added. She looked beside her in a chair by the bed and she saw Red Robin.

Her mind was still struggling to remember what had happened. She tried again to sit up and realized that it wasn't the aching that had prevented movement. Her arms were strapped down. But that wasn't even the most concerning part. Her arm was bare. She wasn't transformed.

Red Robin was speaking softly to her, trying to calm her but she couldn't remember what happened to have her end up here. She couldn't reach her ears and she couldn't call it for Tikki. Had Red Robin and the bat team learned about the miraculous?

"Hey, breathe deep for me. You are going to have a panic attack."

She focused on Red Robin when he started speaking. In another circumstance she would be happy to have him near but this had moved beyond casual flirting. She was a prisoner and they had a tube with an IV feeding into her veins. Her head was fuzzy and aching. She didn't know what they had given her to make her feel this way.

"Why?" was the first thing she was able to get out.

"What do you remember?" he asked softly.

"Are you poisoning me?" she asked.

Instead of answering immediately, he reached over and slid the IV out of her arm. He carefully bandaged the spot before he spoke.

"The IV is saline and electrolytes. You passed out. Do you remember?"

A door opened and Nightwing and Batgirl entered. Marinette started pulling against the bindings again. She just realized this must be their lair. That made them sound dastardly. She didn't think they were evil before but she was surrounded and restrained. But her head was beginning to clear a bit and she was starting to remember bits. It came out as two separate thoughts.

"Did you get struck by lightning," she asked Red Robin but she gasped suddenly and sat up quickly as far as she was able. "The children!"

She looked around the space as if she was expecting to see them somewhere. Batgirl assured her that the children made it out and were expected to be in a safehouse with their family somewhere. Nightwing was less concerned about reassurance and was ready to get answers now that she was awake.

"You have successfully convinced some of them that you were not involved. But the rest of us need answers."

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean your clever ploy to lead us into a trap. Were we to be captured or killed?"

"I wasn't involved in anything. I was upset last night and I missed noticing what was going on until it was too late."

"So you set us up to go down with you."

"Yeah. See how well that worked. We are all trapped here together. Wait, my bad. You all had a perfect rescue except for the part where I'm now your prisoner," her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"What did you expect?" he replied.

"The benefit of the doubt. I've done nothing to harm any of you."

"You did slightly tie up Red Robin and then there was that whole business of hitting everyone on that rooftop." Batgirl said.

Marinette just looked at her before speaking. She had thought Batgirl was on her side a little but perhaps she wasn't convinced.

"Well you guys famously beat or main rather than killing. What is it to be?" she looked around as she paused. "Or are you just that good at hiding the bodies. Are you going to feed me to actual bats?"

"We don't know what to do with you yet." Batman said as he entered the room. "But bats don't eat people."

"We were unable to find any record of you. We searched pay records from the coffee shop but you weren't in their records." Red Robin said.

"Typically I'd say you could just ask me out but I'm kinda pissed right now."

"That's probably valid," Batgirl said.

"You think? So are you planning to kill me or let me go?"

"First we need to know who is giving you identity information." Batman said.

"So you will kill me if I don't tell my name?"

"Pretty sure he meant how you knew their identities." Batgirl said in a stage whisper while pointing one hand at Nightwing and the other at Red Robin.

"It's not like they are hidden with magic. Probably everyone who had seen any of you with and without a mask would know."

"No. That is definitely something you alone seem to manage." Nightwing said.

"But we want to know about you too. Why are you hiding your identity. That seems suspect." Batman said.

"I woke up with an unknown IV and strapped to a bed in your doom bunker and you think my motives are suspect?"

She looked directly at him until he harrumphed and walked off.

Taglist

#maribat #timinette

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Why Amazon Prime’s Invincible Had to Be Animated

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Invincible comic writer Robert Kirkman has a gentlemanly agreement with Steven Yeun, who appeared in The Walking Dead for six seasons and now stars as the adapted Invincible’s titular hero.

“Steven and I have a rule that there’s no more popping his eyeballs out. I can live with that – once is enough,” Kirkman tells Den of Geek and other outlets during the series’ press day.

Kirkman’s imagination is as violent as it is vast. Yeun’s character Glenn Rhee on AMC’s The Walking Dead (based on the Kirkman comic of the same name) was a notable unfortunate recipient of that bloodlust when he was beaten to death with a barbed wire baseball bat in the show’s seventh season.

Now Yeun is providing his voice to Mark Grayson a.k.a. Invincible – the super-powered high schooler at the center of Amazon Prime’s adaptation of Kirkman’s comic. Steven (and Mark’s) eyeballs are safe for now…but very few other body parts are in this sprawling superhero tale.

Invincible first premiered in a preview as part of Image Comics’ Savage Dragon #102, more than a full year before Kirkman’s black and white zombie blockbuster The Walking Dead debuted. The character graduated to his own regular series in 2003, first illustrated by Cory Walker, and then by the prolific Ryan Ottley. The story of Mark Grayson ran, uninterrupted and with very few side arcs, for 15 years before concluding with issue #144 in 2018.

The appeal of Invincible can be hard to describe. At first glance, it’s a very conventional comic book story. Mark is the son of Nolan Grayson a.k.a. Omni-Man, an alien from the planet Viltrum and now Earth’s most powerful superhero (of which there are many). The series begins with Mark eagerly anticipating the arrival of his own superpowers and then embarking on an adventure of super self discovery, alongside a host of heroic allies and terrifying villains.

What sets Invincible apart, however, is its dedication to realistic storytelling. Mark is a very likeable, yet believably flawed young man.Kirkman’s sprawling 144-issue narrative meticulously follows Mark’s maturation and the ethical questions raised by a universe fit-to-bursting with invulnerable ubermensches.

There’s also the violence…oh the sweet, sweet violence. Ryan Ottley’s art in Invincible has a deep, abiding respect for the physics of super powers. Though the images may be colorful, the action depicted within them are shocking in their brutality. Nary does a bone go uncrunched or an intestine un-ripped out in Kirkman and Ottley’s hyper visceral world.

Naturally, Invincible was always a hot target for adaptation, particularly after AMC hit Kirkman zombie paydirt with The Walking Dead. But how exactly could any TV series fully capture the deliriously gory detail of Ottley’s art? The answer as it turns out is to just go ahead and adapt the art too.

Amazon Prime’s Invincible, the first season of which will be eight episodes, features animation from Wind Sun Sky Entertainment and Kirkman’s own Skybound. Kirkman himself is on board as a producer, alongside David Alpert, Catherine Winder, and Simon Racioppa (who serves as showrunner). The end result is an animation style that hews closely to the comic’s original art and often seems like Ottley’s illustrations in motion.

“The action is a little bit more brutal when things are moving. I think it’s going to serve to heighten things in the series,” Kirkman says.

While heightening the violent rhythms of Invincible seems like a wild proposition, the show’s star agrees that the animation does just that.

“You can go to places that live-action probably isn’t able to go to, even now,” Yeun tells Den of Geek and other outlets. “(Animation) creates a nice separation so that you can examine what the show might be saying without one-to-one comparison. Like that’s an actual arm being ripped off, but it’s a cartoon arm being ripped off. There’s just something different about that.”

Both Yeun and J.K. Simmons, who plays Nolan, note that the show’s kinetic sequences provide interesting voice acting challenges.

“What’s really fun is going back over in ADR and tracing back over these action sequences and these emotional moments. A lot of this show lives in those emotional moments that aren’t necessarily mixed in with dialogue, where a breath or a subtle way of gurgling blood in your mouth and trying to breath is its own kind of emotionality,” Yeun says.

“ADR is usually just ‘make this grunt.’ But because of the intensity of the violence and the stakes and the repercussions, it did feel much more emotionally connected doing the fight sequences,” Simmons adds.

The show’s animation style isn’t all about merely capturing the grunts and gurglings of blood, however. While Mark Grayson’s story begins relatively small, it eventually blossoms into an enormous superhero universe containing countless people, monsters, and worlds. Even in our era of technical sophistication where just about anything seems possible on television, Invincible is a hard sell as live-action.

According to Kirkman, animation was the only way to properly tell this story.

“The main benefit is that we’re going to be able to provide the audience with a scope and scale, more akin to a $200 million blockbuster movie than what you usually get from your average superhero television show,” Kirkman says. “Drawing an army of a thousand people is a little bit easier than hiring a thousand people and putting costumes on them and things like that. If we want to have three different alien invasions in the same episode, we can.”

Invincible Review (Spoiler-Free)

By Bernard Boo

Kirkman knows the limits of live-action television as well as anyone. Though The Walking Dead remains an enormous success for AMC, it has experienced quite a bit of casting turnover throughout the years with only Norman Reedus’s Daryl Dixon and Melissa McBride’s Carol Peletier remaining of the season 1 main cast in the show’s 11 seasons. Requesting that actors endure grueling television shooting schedules in the humid Atlanta summers for an undetermined number of years is a big ask as it turns out.

If depicted in live-action, the commitments of actors’ times and bodies would be even more brutal for the Invincible cast. And the cast of Invincible is set to be huge. The first season alone will star: Yeun as Mark Grayson, Simmons as Nolan Grayson, Sandra Oh as Debbie Grayson, Seth Rogen as Allen the Alien, Gillian Jacobs as Atom Eve, Andrew Rannells as William Clockwell, Zazie Beetz as Amber Bennett, Walton Goggins as Cecil Stedman, Jason Mantzoukas as Rex Splode, Zachary Quinto as Robot, and many, many more. (Check out the full list over here).

And that’s before the story begins to expand with more heroes and villains in later issues/seasons. The relatively smaller time commitments of voiceover acting in animation allows Kirkman and the series writers to keep the cast as large as needed, though Simmons notes that he, Yeun, and Oh all still get to act together in-studio.

Kirkman says the show is able to delve deeper into certain characters than the comics did, with figures like G-man Cecil Stedman and the Rorschach-esque Damian Darkblood getting more screen time.

“These are characters that I should know intimately, but getting to work with these actors and getting to hear these voices and how these performances come together, it’s like I’m meeting these characters again for the first time and the absolute best way,” Kirkman says. “I’m seeing new aspects to them that didn’t really exist before. It’s really making me more excited about moving forward with this show for many seasons with this cast.”

Yes, Kirkman and the rest of the Invincible cast already have “many seasons” in mind for the show. Whether those seasons will come to pass are up to Amazon and its subscribers. But it seems clear that animation was the right choice for the story’s scope was television was the right choice for its length.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The first three episodes of Invincible will premiere Friday, March 26 on Amazon Prime.

The post Why Amazon Prime’s Invincible Had to Be Animated appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3lItwd9

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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currentfandomkick · 4 years

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Miraculous Team and the Batboys

Longer update, wrote the ao3 version first this time. if you want to find me there, crazyjc.

Thankfully there weren’t any akuma attacks that day or that night. Marinette was glad to get some sleep for once. Her body, confused and used to a few hours a night, got her up early.

Marinette decided to help with the morning rush—quick to handle the register and make adjustments to some people’s orders (no extra charge for the exhausted high school and college students) when she managed to find someone as dead as she was after an akuma messed up her commission schedule and sleep was skipped for a week.

“Wow, you’re getting the ‘Please Don’t Let Me Die Again Yet’ special.” Marinette turned before the zombie could speak. “Maman, watch the register, someone looks worse than midterms and commissions me.”

Once Maman took the register again, Marinette worked on her disaster drink that only a few particular customers knew of from her personal menu--mainly the dead college and high school students insane enough to pull a weeks worth of all nighters like her. And baby parents that liked her parents bakery.

Gurarana beans instead for the extra caffeine with her special blend of licorice root, peppermint and green tea poured in--double the caffeine with less effort, glucose for the brain fuel, sweet and mint for wakeup and focus, and green tea for lasting energy boost.

“Here, this should keep you up and a bit more functional than usual.”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“Oh my god, what got Finals Angel up this early?” One of the regulars almost yelled, staring at her with a look that screamed the universe was going to collapse in on itself, and they were now anticipating this outcome until they got their morning fix.

Marinette shrugged, moving to the next customer as the dead man took a seat and pulled out his laptop. She continued to help until it was getting close to class.

“Maman, the rest of that brew is under the cabinet for the laptop zombie, I’m taking my morning delivery now.”

Maman took over while Marinette made her way to school, passing out the usual deliveries as she moved about.

“Adrien, your insult to caffeinated monstrosities everywhere.”

“Thanks Marinette!” The blond held his (essentially) hot chocolate with one pump expresso, and five three shots of caramel on top of whip cream.

“Chloe, why you have me grab something this sweet this early is only further proof of your crimes against humanity.”

“You’re welcome Dupain-Cheng.” The girl nabbed her (in Marinette's opinion) low caffeine sugar water--licorice root with half a bottle of honey, and lots of ice with whip cream and honesy drizzled on top. She would never understand that order, but was too afraid to ask at this point. She might be taking the Bee thing too far.

“Alya, thank you for being a sane coffee person, Nino, we are having a talk about your scheduling.”

“Thanks gurl." Because close or not, Alya was an addict with a simple and reasonable coffee that restored Marinette's sanity while making it.

Nino groaned as he took his pastries and three cream, one expresso. “Not again, I still haven’t recovered from the last time.”

Marinette shrugged. “Your mistake, not mine.”

“Oh, did you get my cookies?” Sabrina asked.

Marinette rolled her eyes with a fond smile. She likes Sabrina when she isn't in full cling mode, and giving her boxes of pre-paid cookies put together on Marinette's whims? Very calming after dealing with Adrien and Chloe's offending orders. “Yes. You paid for a different set everyday.”

“Thanks!” Sabina examined her current mix, more obscure cookies since Marinette got them before the morning rush.

“Markov, please tell me Max got some sleep last night?” Marinette asked as she handed another of her special “Max needs a nap but is to stubborn to” order--which is essentially an energy drink blend with a few slow-release teas mixed in.

“Affirmative. He got the requested minimum of three hours. I will ensure he gets more once school is out.”

“I’ll take what I can get.” He was less prone to akumatazation with more sleep, and Hawkmoth does like using Max. Marinette likes knowing she can have her teammate in the field without wondering if he'll pass out.

Marinette took her seat by Alya. They weren’t as close anymore, but it did mean Lila was alone in the back and didn’t see the group document.

“Class, we have a new student today!”

Marinette frowned. She wasn’t informed of any newcomers. She looked over at Chloe who huffed. She didn’t know either then.

“Class, this is Damian Grayson from America. His father is here on business and will be joining us for the semester!”

Chloe and her shared a look. With Chloe as the current president and Marinette as the head of the welcome committee, this was very last minute for them not to be informed. Especially as Bustier had the time to since both were here early.

Alya shot her a look.

Marinette shook her head. She really didn’t know, and it bugged her.

Alya narrowed her eyes as the new boy came in. Black hair, stood too straight and Middle Eastern. She wondered what his first language was briefly--someone in school was bound to be fairly fluent. If it was related to Arabic, Rose would be a good translator. Her and Adrien both have Mandarin now, and her English was passable to Americans--not so much for the UK. Alya has Spanish while Nino has Portuguese covered. Chloe was good for UK English and so was Adrien, but those two weren't good for new kids... especially from the America. Mylene, Ivan, Nathaniel and Juleka were bad at talking most of the time, so they were no-gos...

And she still had to finish Ali's commission… This would be a headache if they were an old Chloe-type.

“Damian, why don’t you tell us about yourself.”

“No need to. I do not plan on making friends.”

And he was worse than an Old Chloe-type. There went her free period for commissions.

The entire class shared a look, and Marinette wanted to groan. This boy would be in for a rude awakening—there was no escaping friendship in Bustier’s class. And anyone difficult? They would sent Marinette as envoy--hopefully Alya didn't make easy.

“I presume my seat is in the back?”

“Actually,” Alya stood up with a grin, “I was going to sit back with Lila to help her catch up in our next class.”

Marinette froze as she realized what Alya was doing. Keeping the new kid from Lila was good, but she also needed to keep Alya from falling for Lila’s lies again. And she has no clue on his preferred languages and uh!

“Alya,” she hissed.

“Don’t worry, I got this.” Alya moved to the back with ease before the boy could say a word.

Marinette hit her head. Why was her friend like this?

“I guess that means you’ll sit next to Marinette. Marinette, can you show Damian around during your free period?”

Marinette knew that tone. There was no refusing without a lecture on being a good role model and another reprimand for stepping down from class representative and student government when she got more commissions and needed more time.

“Of course Miss Buster.”

Damian took his seat without saying a word.

Marinette decided it was better to stay silent with this one--he didn't want friends, and would only be here briefly. She could respect that, even if she could feel the others scheming otherwise.

“What do you mean you know—“

“Oops,” Lila grinned. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

And that was what Marinette was hoping to avoid.

Damian twitched next to her. Marinette sighed, “One sec, I need to remind someone to check her sources before getting ahead of themselves… again.”

Nino shot Marinette a sympathetic look while Marinette linked three redacted articles that starred Lila as her main source.

“And done.”

Damian raised an eye brow at her. “You aren’t going to pester me, correct?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. Honestly? “You made your stance clear. I’m here as the actual head of the welcoming committee, and during free period I’ll just need to know your interests so we can avoid the parts of the school that aren’t relevant for you, and to make sure you have an idea how to handle akuma attacks since I’m going to guess they didn’t tell you about that before you applied.”

“tt,” Damian leveled her with a scowl. “Of course I know about them.”

Marinette didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “So you know where to go for shelter, the drills, the apps and news sources that are good for tracking, which hospitals are contactable during attacks and which ones go into lock down, oh and what actions are allowable and not as civilian aides to the miraculous team?”

The boy froze before her. He didn't then.

Her face slid into a more neutral one--keeping her gloating to herself.“That’s what I thought. I have a few flow charts in the committee room to grab since its an info dump and no one processes those well, and your learning style may benefit from it for all I know.” Marinette made sure not add ‘since some people can’t be bothered to tell me.’ The new boy clearly wasn’t interested in friendship, and despite what the class thinks, she is not friendship-nip.

“I…”

“Class, turn to page 67 of your textbook. Marinette, make sure to share with Damian.”

“Yes Miss Bustier,” Marinette moved the book between the two of them, ignoring Damian besides checking where his eyes were on the page before turning as they followed along.

Once their free period began, Adrien had a Chloe guarding him against the Lila octopus, with Sabrina flanking his other arm as backup.

“I take it those three are together?” Damian asked once they left.

“No, Chloe doesn’t share her friends well,” Marinette explained as they moved through the halls. “And it keeps away his fans, so no one stops it anymore.” Not unless they wanted the Mayor’s ire at least. It was very effective against Lila.

“I see…” He was watching her. She wasn’t sure if it was an American thing or just a tic of his. Possibly both.

“That’s where the teacher’s offices are for before and after school,” Marinette gestured to one wing. “All the doors are labeled, so its easy enough to find who you’re looking for as long as you have a name. You’ll find most of the school services there as well, minus the nurse who’s room is closer to the quad.”

Marinette smiled when they got to welcoming committee room. None of the other members were there at the moment, but the file cabinet was. She grabbed one of the ready-made packets and grabbed a spare Bustier Class packet too.

“Here’s the information for being new in Paris, everything from common places to eat, the good hole-in-the-wall places itemized by what you’re looking for, everything relating to akumas is on the red papers, and the yellow is the school’s map and procedures.” Marinette handed him the blue folder, then the orange. “This one is the Bustier-class specific one approved by Miss Bustier. It lists everything from class rules, what caused various akumatazations with the victim’s consent to disclose it, so not all are listed, and it has your schedule and the class outing dates plus who’s interested in what on the pink pages for possible friends, but you said you weren’t interested so we can skip that.”

Marinette watched him look over the papers for a moment, waiting until his attention was back to her. “Now, anything you have a vague interest in that you might have some random inclination to do at Dupont during your free periods, before or after school?”

Damian raised an eyebrow at her.

“Its you let me tailor the tour for you, or you have to go all over the school and talk to me the entire time, when we both know you’re really not interested.”

“Tt.”

Marinette shrugged. “Have it your way, now, on with the tour!”

Damian gawked at the core ciruculum including what he knew was more college level than high school level. Then there was the fact these students had access to multiple state of the art facilities tailored to current students interests on campus, with little issue getting them apparently.

“How does your school get all of this?”

The pigtail girl almost laughed at his question. “I guess they just sent you here since we have the most flexible curriculum routines then.” The girl shifted how she stood. “Dupont is an experimental school, everyone is given high expectations on entry but as long as you keep up with grades the school gets whatever any student requests—a few years ago we had one kid that was allowed to do rocket science as part of his program, he went to some German facility with a translator every other day. Alix has a blanket permit to do street art and installations on public property, as long as she gets her design approved and can give them her schedule as long as she helps other student with history classes. I get full access to any designing materials as part of my deal with the school in exchange for doing any school event costumes and tailoring jobs that I get a two week notice on.”

Damian nodded along, processing this new information. Suddenly, the high amount of akumas from graduates and current students of Dupont made sense. They were specialists, extremely skilled at their crafts and more likely to be knowledgeable than the general population on a variety of topics.

Marinette was glad for their hour-long lunch. “I’d ask if you wanted someone to eat with you, but you look like you need some time to process. I’ll check in before school ends.”

She ran home, noting that the man from that morning was still there but looked much less like he would keel over sometime soon. She knew that brew would help. She grabbed a croissant and ran upstairs to finish Prince Ali’s latest commission—a variant on his usual princely attire that was more maneuverable but still formal enough that no one would notice when he wore that one instead of the traditional one.

She had a feeling he was going to use it to sneak away from his guards.

She set an alarm and got to work.

She was quick to leave once the alarm sounded—she gave herself an extra five minutes this time.

“Hey, you’re the coffee angel, right?”

Marinette turned to see the man from that morning, now much more alive.

“I guess.” Marinette knew not to give out names to customers unless her parents deemed them not-stalker-y.

“Thanks, that thing actually worked. What’s in it?”

Marinette smiled at that. “Sorry, that’s a secret not even Maman and Papa get to know.”

“Huh,” the man processed her words. “Guess I’ll have to keep coming when I’m low then.”

Marinette nodded. “Guess so, good to see you’re no longer a zombie monsieur!”

She ran off at that, not sure what to think of them yet, other than if they needed that drink regularly, they might be worse than her. And she has heroing as an excuse. He doesn’t.

Holy shit was not expecting this response.

Thank you all so much, was not expecting this much positive response and i think my brain broke a bit, in the good way.

So, we have a new fan to Marinette's secret menu, and a Damian slowly realizing why the school is targetted who is also going with the 'I don't do friends' thing, again.

leaving this one as a poll: Damian calls out Lila by the end of the day for how Marinette and him end up as friends, or he puts together Marinette is doing a lot for the class by the end of the day and wants to figure out why, especially after reading the Ladyblog during lunch, or any other ideas.

Any ideas on how Marinette meets Dick and Jason for when she meets the next round of Batboys?

@worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @littleredrobinhoodlum @northernbluetongue @kceedraws @pirats-pizzacanninibles @theatreandcomicfreak @daminett4life @catthhay @weird-pale-blonde-person @amayakans @chocolatecatstheron

#maribat #daminette idea au #miraculous team and batboys #my writing

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taiblogcomics · 5 years

Text

The Great American Road Trip

Hey there, roadside produce stand. Well, not much preamble, as usual. We were enjoying that last Suicide Squad, weren't we? That's a pretty unusual event in and of itself, so let's continue with that and see if they can keep that streak going~

Here's the cover:

It's a fight scene! That's really all there is to say about it. I mean, it's attention-grabbing, so it's probably doing its job. And if Batman fails, Deadshot dies! You'd think that would go without saying. Guess what, it's likely that if Batman fails, Batman dies as well. Your homework for tonight: diagram all the permutations of Batman and Deadshot's failures versus their deaths.

So last time, Batman broke Deadshot out of Belle Reve to join him on a rescue mission to save his daughter from Kobra. We return to that mission, already in progress. Or at least on a road trip. The comic starts the way every comic book should start, with somebody being thrown through a truck stop window. Like I said: road trip. Batman and Deadshot have stopped here, at a truck stop called The Snake Pit, which is apparently crawling with Kobra goons. Batman and Deadshot actually punch out one guy at the same time, and it's awesome. Batman deals with the guy they threw outside while Deadshot clears the ones inside. Since he's not allowed to shoot to kill, he shoots to cripple-for-life instead. That's better, right~?

Deadshot remarks that "beat them until they talk" isn't really any better and Batman is a huge hypocrite, but Batman brushes it off as they get back in their truck. They're off to New Mexico. And meanwhile in New Mexico, over with the daughter, she's anxiously waiting for her dad to rescue her. One of the Kobra guys sits down and has a conversation with her. He alone recognises that Zoe isn't like her father. She's recognised him, too: he's the one who stays in the shadows. His name's Keenum, and he's not welcome among them yet. He's the one who found the original Kobra's remains and got this whole thing started. He wants to be the one to be Kobra's new host, and thus plans to kill Zoe to get that position. Zoe pushes him away, and thus alerts the rest of the Kobras to Keenum's presence, causing him to flee.

In another "meanwhile", the Suicide Squad itself--yeah, they're still in their titular book--have come across the same truck stop Batman and Deadshot stopped at earlier. The big guy who got thrown through a window is still here. After Captain Boomerang and Harley Quinn mock him for a bit, he attacks them, but Captain Cold just freezes him solid. This is no good for a reptile, as you may imagine. He also tells them to go to New Mexico, but of course the Squad doesn't thaw them out. Some annoying banter of Boomerang mistaking "alliteration" for a legal term and Captain Cold being just as annoyed at him as the reader. The lot of them drive off, with Harley revelling in their chance to be actual villains.

And now, for the last scene, we get what we came here for: Batman and Deadshot on a road trop. Already they're bonding. You see, Batman had a similar situation some years ago, with his son Damian. Deadshot doesn't have all the details, but reasons it must be one of the Robins, "probably the psycho one" in his words. Deadshot's sharper than you might think. Batman mentions that he brought Deadshot along mostly because he doesn't care for Amanda Waller, and they both agree there. Deadshot thinks that folks only do something because it benefits them in some way. Batman replies that he's here, therefore he cares about Zoe. And you'd think that'd be good enough, but then the comic ends on a splash page where they're attacked by a giant snake man~

All right, the first criticism is about the cover. Not only do the two groups not confront each other, but let me pitch to you a way better cover. Picture this: a big roadmap as the background with one of those dotted red lines showing where they’re going. Batman and Deadshot driving in a truck in the foreground. Batman’s at the wheel, grimacing and annoyed, while Deadshot leans out the window and is shooting at something. Someone draw that, because it’s the greatest comic book cover in the world~

Anyway, aside from that, the issue is actually pretty good. There’s lots of character interactions here: Zoe and Keenum debating who has more reason to resent the Kobras, Captain Cold critiquing the Suicide Squad, and probably the nicest scene in the comic: Batman and Deadshot bonding over the peril their offspring have been in. All that character stuff, and the book isn’t shy on action either. So yeah! So far this storyline has supremely met my desires and expectations~

#comics #reviews #Suicide Squad #Taiblog

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x0401x · 6 years

Note

What do you think about the princess' story in VE Gaiden?

*bursts door open and walks in holding a cocktail* OKAY, SO.

I should start this by saying that, although I’m not fond of how Akatsuki Kana’s writing is overly simplistic, I have a lot of faith in her portrayals. Specially when it comes to female characters and romance.

Back when I watched episode 5, it felt very close to the feeling of the novels, but something crucial was missing: the clarification of why a relationship that would seem problematic at first isn’t actually problematic. The reason why I trust Akatsuki-sensei so much is because she’s hyper-aware of the issues present in any of the character bonds that she writes about, which is the main difference between she and KyoAni. When I saw KyoAni depicting a 29-year-old hinting that he was falling in love with a 14-year-old through mere letters, I knew that this was where the Gaiden would punch the anime in the face. Of course, I also had a hunch that there would be more than that to it.

As the chapter turned out, Charlotte, Alberta and Damian are way better fleshed-out. Alberta is much kinder and softer on Charlotte, which explains how Charlotte ended up the way she is, moping over every little thing and losing composure extremely easily. The two of them are much more intimate as a mother-daughter duo and their interactions are more heartwarming. Damian is also nicer and had more interaction with Charlotte as a child. Another thing I’d give the novel a lot of praise for is that it straight-up stated and graphically depicted how Charlotte suffered from anxiety. You don’t see that often in light novels, and even less often if the character in question is a teenage girl.

I think it’s important to point out as a bonus that the novel depicts Violet’s knowledge of love letter writing as something crude and inept. She simply immitates what she reads and can be pretentious as hell just so the impact of the text will be more effective on the reader. That’s something natural of any writer. Nobody necessarily has to have experienced certain events or feelings in order to be able to write about them; just reading about those and using one’s imagination is enough to spark the inspiration. KyoAni was adamant in enforcing otherwise, apparently because Ishidate Taichi believed that Violet’s development stemmed partly from becoming able to write about certain topics, which is honestly super shallow.

But, of course, I think the highlight of the whole chapter is Charlotte and Damian’s relationship and how it affected Violet. KyoAni attempted to make Violet relate with Charlotte simply because the two of them were the same age, which was ridiculous at best. As I have stated before, Violet is older in the novel, so she isn’t as old as Charlotte. What Akatsuki-sensei used as parallels was their circumstances. And the parallels were between not only Violet and Charlotte, but also Damian and Gilbert. The four of them have completely different personalities but were in very similar positions.

When Charlotte and Violet were 10, both were going through a shitty period in their lives. Violet was being abused by Dietfried on top of being ordered to kill people for little reason, and Charlotte was experiencing having her whole life being decided for her, including who she would marry, for the sake of being used as a political asset between her country and the neighboring ones. And while surrounded by the negativeness of their respective situations, they received kindness from men who actually put themselves in their shoes. This is the key point. Gilbert was the first one to treat Violet as her own person. Same for Damian, who saw Charlotte as what she was: not a potential bride, but a mere child. He treats her even more gently than Alberta, who would always be reminding her of her role as princess, and basically leaves his social status completely out of the conversation. More importantly, he acknowledges the hell Charlotte was being forced to go through. This shows that he is fully aware she was not being seen as anything other than a tool by anyone and makes clear that he was treating her as nothing but a fellow human being. It’s just like Gilbert’s attempts at making Violet realize that he never saw her as a weapon and that she should live her life freely.

This is why Charlotte and Violet fell in love. Charlotte had just basically found the one (1) person who wasn’t trying to use her for his own benefit or actively working to make sure she fulfilled her pre-determined duties as an object of political maneuvers. As for Violet, when Charlotte’s story links up with her own memories, it’s pretty obvious that she knew happiness for the first time when she came in contact with Gil. So there you have it: two little girls with their hearts stolen by older men. But there’s an important detail that the anime conventionally left out, which was what caused the whole uproar and disgust towards this episode.

That is, the fact none of this was mutual or intentional.

Neither Gil nor Damian had any sort of feelings for Violet or Charlotte when they were children, nor were they physically attracted to them even after they became teenagers. The anime failed at conveying this. KyoAni acted like Charlotte and Violet’s age was more prominent for Violet to identify with Charlotte than what the two of them were going through. What’s worse, it made Damian seem like he was starting to fall in love with Charlotte just because of letters.

I think what ruined Damian in the anime for good was the reunion scene in the garden. It might seem heartrending at first, but in retrospect, it was really weird. Damian was basically making a formal, traditional proposal, as if he had actually fallen in love with Charlotte already. Not to mention he had basically invaded the royal palace of a country that isn’t his own in the middle of the night like it’s no big deal, lol. In the novel, none of this happens, and Damian is cleary not in love with Charlotte, but his letters made it obvious that he was willing to treat her well and was completely open to the possibility of falling for her in the future. Since Akatsuki-sensei made a point to show that Damian is a humble and respectful person despite being a prince, as well as the complete opposite of the ultra-sexual way that Cattleya portrayed him in her letters, he probably wouldn’t lay a finger on Charlotte even after she became his wife until she actually turned into a woman. And since he affirms he would cherish her, he most likely wouldn’t get himself a lover to use as distraction until Charlotte was of age.

There’s also something I deem important in the parallels between these two relationships. It’s that one character is always being considerate of the other. Damian often showed that he would treat Charlotte well and was honest with her about the fact that he wouldn’t have the heart to act like they were a lovey-dovey couple, because they were not one. Meanwhile, Charlotte affirms that she’d go along with that either way because he was the man she had chosen. The part of Charlotte’s last letter that comments on how she’d tag with him to do whatever he liked and that she’d do a better job than him at it had me hollering because this is exactly the kind of female character that Akatsuki-sensei seems to enjoy writing about the most. It brings me back to how Gilbert inevitably had to take Violet to war despite not wanting to, except she was fully willing to go with him and was better in combat than he could ever hope to be.

The reason for Violet’s wanting to help Charlotte(which I refrained from saying in previous asks because too many spoilers), much more than the fact Charlotte wasn’t satsified with her services, was that, even without realizing, Violet saw herself in her. It makes all sense that she’d want Charlotte to have the happy ending that she herself didn’t get. The anime didn’t make this clear enough either. What I also liked better in the novel was how bi af Cattleya is Charlotte and Alberta’s goodbye scene was much warmer.

Anyway, this is it, I think. Sorry that I took so long to reply. ^^’

#violet evergarden #charlotte abelfreyja drossel #gilbert bougainvillea #damian baldur flugel #kyoani #i was totally not waiting for an ask like this #TOTALLY NOT

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discord-of-laughter · 6 years

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The OC challenge! - Phase 2 & 3

Phase 2 – Getting to know them

Who gets angry-drunk?

Cardia – don’t get her drunk or she will get fierce and you have to stop her from stumbling her way to revenge… also it would be underaged drinking!

Gabriele – actually turns into a reckless drunk but is super easy to anger – handle with care

Loreley – honestly just don’t, at first she’s just grumpy but give her more and she might strip and try to kill someone, preferably all men in the room

Lou – everything he hates about staying in control so much might bubble up but since his powers don’t subside just because of alcohol he becomes extremely dangerous + underaged drinking!

Phionee – you don’t want that. Will arm wrestle and just wrestle everybody and cause havoc also becomes very dominant and might just drag a poor soul to her quarter… that only happened twice and to the same “poor soul” but he looked pretty beaten up the next morning

Vanessa – it takes a while for her to get drunk… but then you better be ready to listen to her lashing out about injustice in the world and if someone is present who has done something bad she’d go and punch him/her… gets a bit better with age and when staying home with her partner but towards the end of the night of her wedding things were close to escalate

Who gets sad-drunk?

Bel – want to have a sobbing demon on your shoulder, get her drunk but be prepared to end up broke because of how much it takes to get her there

Damian – there’s only a short time window between him being drunk enough and passing out to unlock his sad past

Jennifer – that might correlate with the fact that she only gets drunk when someone died to begin with… once she’s done crying though she gets clingy and sweet and wants to slow dance, but will cry again if you don’t comply

Rachel – there has happened a lot to cry about in her life, be nice to her

Skadi – gets all delicate and honest and it is heart-breaking, but dude you can’t afford to get her drunk anyway

Mariana – has a lot of insecurity bottled up and will easily cry if given a reason for it… if not expect some dancing on the counter and less clothes because she feels hot

Who gets happy-drunk?

Allete – ever wanted to hear a femme fatal/female agent giggle, get her a bunch of drinks high in alcohol content and have fun

Jo – she gets totally mushy and easy-going, might want to cuddle though and if you don’t comply she’ll turn into a sad-drunk and wail about being lonely

Ophelia – turns into the sweetest girl imaginable when her defence mechanisms are down, super sweet and kind, a bit clingy though and falls asleep quickly

Kayleigh – thinks everything is funny when drunk – can hold more than one or two drinks though – loves the whole world and takes care of any sad-drunk in her proximity

Jason – best drunk to have at a party, becomes open, jovial, wants to sing and is in for pretty much everything that sounds like fun… becomes the heart of the party quickly and keeps it going

Cain – turns very sweet and soft for a very short while and then pukes his heart out – don’t feed the fish(boy)!

[Deicida doesn’t get drunk at all, she hasn’t the physical capacity for it… don’t give her alcohol though enough and she might just fall over + underaged drinking… kind of… well she looks the part.

Aquila just falls asleep when she gets drunk, so it is hard to tell.

Daniel is a wild card… depending on unknown factors it can be either and any of the above.]

How do they interact with a romantic partner?

For Allete flirting and seduction are part of the job and at first she would be the smoothest person in the world… until she notices that she really caught feelings and then everything gets difficult because all those gestures and tricks she always used suddenly seem bland and not enough. Hands shaking, lips quivering, she’s nervous like a little school girl and it would take a while to get her back to ease. After that she would be a surprisingly dotting girlfriend, but she needs reassurance once in a while that her partner can still stand her and her job and the danger.

Bel would be utterly confused by falling in love and therefore would avoid a potential romantic partner at first + is in need of a therapy session to get things cleared up. Love – that is such a human feeling and… and it makes you catch cooties, right? If said partner still wants her… it’ll take a long time to groom this queen of hell into a romantic partner to be taken seriously… and even then she’d be more like a terribly possessive friend.

Cardia is the kind who would still blush once in a while after getting together and she’s rather shy around a partner only moving on and forward very slowly… emotionally. But she’s rather romantic deep down and would definitely try her best.

Jo is not made for a relationship and would laugh off any attempts. She’s just not made for it, friends with benefits sure when she’s not on the road. But everything else… not so much. And she wouldn’t open up either, not because of trust issues just because… she can’t imagine any of this for herself… it scares her… much like being too happy does.

Damian would feel guilty for not having kept the person at arm’s length but he is also so happy that sometimes he just cries after his partner fell asleep. He’s completely shaken and torn but would even change his way if that’s what his partner asks for. In a way it’s puppy love because he wants to give them everything he can as long as he still has time for it. He would hate to make them sad by dying and ends up nervous and anxious about it once in a while… but when that isn’t the case he’s a sweet but teasing boyfriend with a thing for small romantic gestures… that don’t cost much… because he’s still broke, but he tries.

Deicida would be a bit clingy. But mostly because she doesn’t really know what to do with herself… but she knows that being with this person feels good… after it took her ages to realise it. Because she would never think someone could be attracted to her… also there are the doubts if it’s okay and right… what would her bearer think… isn’t this meant to not work out? All of this while there are tons of conflicting feelings… she’d definitely be a mess, but a cute and blushing one.

Gabriele wouldn’t want to catch the feelings… they make her weak but… it’s so hard to resist when you just want to cuddle up and let your guard down like her. She wants to be protected, she wants to hold hands… and throw terrible pick-up lines around. To flirt and feed each other ice cream and be sweetheart with some rough edges around her partner. But she can’t not now… maybe never… so in the end she’s out to break another heart.

Jennifer… sweet forehead kisses, a soft hand on a shoulder, slow dancing… just being together in the same room. Inside jokes and anniversaries, she’d be a soft lover and ready to be swept of her feet too but not one for much public display of affection at all.

Ophelia – kiss her in the rain and she’s yours. No but really, she’d be the best worst girlfriend in the world. A criminal who can get utterly lost in love. She would have a hard time believing she makes the same mistake again but just goes with the flow… she knows she wants her partner before they do themself. She’d be the one to come back after a one-night stand, she wouldn’t beg not for someone to love her, but she really craves some affection, sleeping in someone’s arms again, knowing there is someone able to love her.

The person who caught Aquila’s eye better is prepared to get swept off their feet and spoiled without being ask. She doesn’t fall in love easily, but she falls hard and turns into the perfect and attentive girlfriend or wife people dream about. If she has set her sight on a person her patience is endless and you can be sure… she’d even kill for you.

Kayleigh wouldn’t know what to do with herself. She can’t fall in love… not in her position and yet… here she is… sweet, maybe making jokes because she doesn’t know what else to do. She only knows love from stories but is open to her own version once she got over the initial doubts… but there are still things she even can’t tell a lover… things even a lover isn’t allowed to do. And Kayleigh would really hope they honour those things she can’t tell and those things she can’t let them do.

Loreley is mistrust issues incarnated. She longs to be in love, to be the world of someone… but she’s utterly afraid that things end up the same again. She couldn’t stand being left behind again, last time she killed others and tried to kill herself only to turn into a myth an mythical spirit in the end. She’d also be a kind of clingy person to a point, but really trying to make her romantic partner and herself happy.

Lou – the shyest and sweetest guy you can imagine. Utterly amazed someone actually wants to be with a time bomb like him but eternally thankful. Also master of shy flirting and then not believing it worked or that his target actually noticed it and picked up on it. Total gentleman too. His partner should be prepared to get a second family along with Lou’s love though.

Phionee is a secretive lover but expect passion behind closed doors. She’s also someone who’d turn down playful flirting, even when it’s coming from her romantic partner the very moment things get serious… she just really doesn’t want to blush or mix up private and public things/life.

Rachel wouldn’t recognise she’s in love until it’s too late. She’d enjoy being close with someone but prefers a relationship with no strings attached. She’s grey-romantic and considering her life and what she considers her duty to be more important than being with someone… though things happen that make her doubt that mindset at least slightly.

Human Daniel actually was very affectionate and devoted when in love. But the way he is now he’s more of the possessive kind, wanting to selfishly push through his unrequited feelings this time without actually really carrying for the feelings of his target… or targets… he likes to get what he wants now but it’s not quite clear if that would change if his feelings were answered… it would definitely throw him off at the very least though. [Not that he deserves it or could really be changed though.]

Skadi is aromantic and after an affair gone wrong and a divorce she doesn’t expect anything from this concept of love anymore. But with someone she is very close and who understands her pain she would be very considerate and sweet. Life has left her utterly sore though and all she is looking for is someone able to stand how broken she is. Someone who spends nights on the sofa in silence with her and leans on her shoulder, their existence alone a soothing reminder that life will go on. Someone who provides her with some warmth when sleeping next to her. The idea that she could find anything like love or the happiness that comes with it though seems like a ridiculous concept to her.

Mariana has high hopes in love and a deep-seated need to be loved. Her expectations might be a bit over the top considering the reality she lived in. And she also has a tendency to become slightly obsessed with love aka her romantic partner. She’d act like a very sweet romantic though when in a relationship so maybe slightly overbearing. But if you break up with her... you better be ready for consequences.

Jason doesn’t like to think about romance too much because it makes him realise that he is kind of lonely. Also, he probably wouldn’t believe if anybody he knew would flirt with him, not in his line of work and such. But once someone gets him to believe it, expect him to blush at first before flirting back relentlessly and enjoying himself to no end. He’s not looking for love though.

Vanessa hasn’t been in love ever before. She wouldn’t know what to expect but would love to find someone who cares about her and wouldn’t mind doing the same. She’d be mostly looking for someone who’d be willing to try things out without making everything too awkward, just someone sweet she’d probably end up dotting on a bit.

Cain has the tendency to idealise the people he loves… and then being disappointed by them. He has a fear of being abandoned and rejection and that can lead to a quick mood swing. When in love he is generally difficult to handle, and he knows it. But the reason for it is mostly that he feels everything so very much and strongly. He also has a tendency to show his love with gestures he then plays down when he realises he might embarrass himself… but he knows some things aren’t right with him and he tries to work on all of it + he really means well.

What do they do for fun?

Allete – secretly likes to get high-class food and has a weakness for cheese, she also likes to sit in small, cozy cafés to read… and she is addicted to speed… not the drug, more like fast cars and such.

Bel – found out early on that she loved to lie to people, since then she has started to learn how to tell fortunes, she’s also surprisingly good at finding stuff of all kind and animals love her, so now she’s getting lost pets back… that and polishing her knives and playfully annoying Maze aka each other.

Cardia – likes to make paper flowers, to explore the surrounding area and card games.

Jo – travel, order strawberry milk shakes and get some souvenirs for the kids. Also, coming home and leaving.

Damian – singing and his music, going for a drink or a bunch… and there’s also the yoga course but shhhh don’t tell anybody.

Deicida – still isn’t quite sure what fun is, but she’s learning to “swim” lately and finds it really enjoyable.

Gabriele – she likes listening to music a lot, just watching some movies and tinkering with stuff. Or talking , eating sweets and having fun with her little makeshift family of kids having a hard time being a mutant and anger issues.

Jennifer – Hardly has time for fun since there is so much work to do. But she likes dressing up nicely and eating out, slow dancing... having a beer at a nice bar with someone she likes to talk to and... does falling asleep with her cat on her lap count as fun?

Ophelia – wrecking a little havoc, riding with the wind, training and just hanging out with people she likes or cares about.

Aquila – she likes singing [she seems to be a trained opera contralto], crossword puzzles and finds much joy in the art of photography.

Kayleigh – loves to play pranks to a certain someone, taking care of the artefacts and… pruning plants though that seems to creep out pretty much everyone who ever watched her.

Loreley – likes to go window shopping and generally to take care of her hair as well as getting into a bar in the middle of nowhere and flirting with the other customers.

Lou – he plays the violin [and actually wants to study music], browsing sweet shops for new sweets and generally staying out of trouble… he’s a trouble magnet though and it usually doesn’t work.

Phionee – surprisingly enough she actually likes plants and she also doesn’t mind a bit of action or a nice drink in a rundown bar on some planet.

Rachel – enjoys being on the road and sleeping while someone else is driving and she always enjoyed her job and figuring out new spells.

Daniel – a stiff drink, a few games with Rachel by his side, the wind in his face, he doesn’t ask for much, but he always liked to play silly computer games while Rachel figures out a new spell now his fun is more of the sadistic and torture kind… or tempting people to do the wrong thing.

Skadi – hunting, having warm tea with someone, ice skating, having someone with a nice voice read to her.

Mariana – dreaming and exploring the dreams of others, also hunting for the perfect cup of coffee.

Jason – training, having a beer after work, getting to know new jokes, there is not much time for fun stuff when he’s doing his job right though.

Vanessa – playing with her pet, trying her hand at baking and since she’s a half-muggle, watching movies.

Cain – training [forgetting all trouble by powering himself out], bathing or swimming aka just chilling in a lot of water, cooking.

Do they like/want kids?

Allete: maybe and not so much, but kids seem to like her.

Bel: hahaha no… and… well they are so gullible that’s nice.

Cardia: yes eventually and… but is kind of awkward around kids.

Jo: no… but wouldn’t say no if one was on the way because she actually adores kids.

Damian: isn’t entirely sure he doesn’t have one already… might want one and is actually absolutely brilliant with kids against what everybody might expect.

Deicida: is pretty sure kids are out of questions, doesn’t know how to deal with humans and kids are even worse than grown-ups or teenagers.

Gabriele: Not for now though she has nothing against kids per se.

Jennifer: Yes she likes kids, but is probably too old to have one of her own by now, wouldn’t have minded being a mother though… but her work seemed more important.

Ophelia: Doesn’t want to think about having kids but gets along just fine with them because they think she is interesting and a bit scary.

Aquila: With the right partner she might think about it… doesn’t get along too well with kids though and finds them mostly annoying.

Kayleigh: Want? Yes… but not biological kids… that seems like a bad idea but one day she might just go and open an orphanage for real, who knows.

Loreley: no… in the past maybe but not anymore and kids tend to not take her seriously and anger her.

Lou: Oh hell yes! Eventually though not right now. He has a big loving family and wants to carry on the tradition, besides kids totally adore him, he’s still working on the being a reasonable adult part though.

Phionee: She feels like she has a kid and she loves him very much even though she’s his adoptive mother at best, more like aunt Phionee, but that doesn’t matter… also there are others that are something like kids to her but only one is still alive… she considers him to be a second son.

Rachel: She’s not found of the though of having a kid for a bunch of different reasons. Besides kids are really annoying and she doesn’t know how to handle them.

Daniel: Before certain events he would have loved to have kids, two or more and was really enthusiastic and patient when interacting with them… but since then things have changed… he still wouldn’t mind having a heir for the Weston Family though.

Skadi: In a way she would want a family of her own… but she is afraid what mixing her race with humans could lead to… she wouldn’t dare, so instead she treats the two teenagers that more or less suddenly appeared in her life kind of motherly… or at least she – who didn’t have a mother she remembers – tries.

Mariana: Maybe… she was a teacher after all… but she also learned how bad the kids can turn out to be, so… maybe, an accident would be a happy accident though and she might end up finally having someone loving her as much as she thinks she deserves it.

Jason: He’s not sure… there just wasn’t a person he wanted to have kids with or raise some with, so he never really thought about it. And he doesn’t have much contact with kids in general either, so he really isn’t sure.

Vanessa: Maybe in the future and with the right person by her side… sure then she’d like to have two kids but that might change until she’s older + she’d need a husband who is good with kids because she isn’t exactly.

Cain: He’s a bit awkward around kids but usually they find him kind of interesting. He doesn’t really want some of his own… but if the right person begged him he’d probably give in and once the kid is there he’d definitely do everything to be a good father.

Do they own pets (if so, what kind?)

No: Cardia, Jo, Damian, Gabriele, Ophelia, Loreley, Lou, Phionee, Rachel, Mariana

Allete has a pretty ragdoll cat uncreatively called “Minette”.

Bel has… a lot of familiars of all kinds.

Deicida has two tiny fish in a huge bowl she adores very much, their names are “Diana & Steve”.

Jennifer has a huge, moody main coon cat called… I wish I was kidding “Lancelot”.

Aquila has gotten herself a parrot much to the dismay of everybody around her but “Shirly” is a really good girl.

Kayleigh has a pet since the magical realm animal incident… she has named the thing “FuFu” but it hates her… so it isn’t actually very much her pet but more or less Wong’s who is better at handling the little rascal.

Skadi did have three wolfhounds while she lived alone in the wilderness, but then S.H.I.E.L.D. showed up and she had to leave them behind… those three know how to make it though.

Jason actually has a turtle his neighbours take care of when he isn’t there. Its name is officially “James Lettuce III.” It’s also his first turtle as should be mentioned.

Vanessa has a pet snake she smuggled into the school, no one has found “Linda” so far, so all is good.

Cain has a bunch of water animals responding to his call that live in front of and under the former boat house he lives in. They aren’t really pets but on the pro side he doesn’t have to take much care of them either.

How do they handle pain/sadness?

Allete: With a blank mask of apparent indifference, but probably already plans to destroy or kill someone. But if she really trusts someone she might admit her pain/sadness.

Bel: Little pain/sadness is met with apathy all the way. Major pain/sadness on the other hand with over the top anger, tears out of rage and… someone will definitely end up dead, so that she can feel better about it.

Cardia: Tears. She knows it’s embarrassing but she probably wouldn’t be able to hold back tears. At least initially and as long as she’s alone or someone is present that she trusts. If only people that she doesn’t trust are around… she’d bit her lips bloody instead in an effort not to cry.

Jo: She’d flee. Just get away… just ignore it, leave it behind until she feels better and no longer like crying. Jo is the kind of person who’d cry in the car with the music at high volume and drive, drive, drive until she feels better.

Damian: He is used to it. There is no point in crying, so he wouldn’t and just shrugs it off. Damian is the type to only cry out of happiness and avoids things and people that hurt him or make him sad.

Deicida: With speechlessness. She can’t even grasp what was done to her or why in an extreme case silent tears stain her cheeks. She’d just be in a shock and probably later cursing Hephaestus name.

Gabriele: You think you know what an ice queen would be like? You have no idea of how cold Gabriele could get if you hurt her… calculating, merciless and cruel she would be ready to rip someone’s heart out…no… to have someone do it for her watching without the slightest hint of guilt.

Jennifer: She would act like nothing happened… but the moment her job allows it, she orders pasta gorgonzola – her comfort food –, gets a bottle of whiskey all for herself and then cries into both.

Ophelia: If you hurt her you better prepare to die on the spot. Because she will lash out with utter aggression… except when it is a person she loves… then she just falls silent and leaves for a short episode of crying and more silence and unspoken sadness.

Aquila: Becomes very quiet… and already has made up at least 10 ways to repay the person who hurt her. Torturing them either physically or psychologically. Once she is satisfied, she leaves and never looks back.

Kayleigh: Wide eyes, quivering lips, twitching hand. She loves life… sometimes even people… but if something was done to her she can’t just shrug off she won’t hesitate, a tiny moment of lost control and someone is dead, quickly, efficiently, without a second thought, even though she’ll probably regret it later.

Loreley: Loreley would leave… ponder her pain, turning it over in her mind over and over again and if it is bad enough, then until she breaks… again, seeming all nice and calm… until she leaves, a bloodbath lining her way.

Lou: Fists clenched, gritting his teeth until his jaw starts trembling… lips pressed together hard… he does everything not to lose control again, everything to make his family proud. Knowing if he opens his mouth… everything he fought so hard for is over and lost. He just swallows whatever it is. Trying to tell himself, that no one is worth it. No one, no matter how much he wants to tell them to go and kill themself.

Phionee: She would withdraw into herself. She doesn’t say much and there is an unspoken sadness in her eyes. But she wouldn’t do anything about it or tell anybody. In the worst case it would leave her as an empty shell without a purpose or a plan. But usually she would recover eventually and in the meantime, try to carry on like normal. [But thank you marvel for killing nearly everybody she cared about… so now I have to deal with the worst case scenario that is an empty shell with a death wish OC ._.]

Rachel: At first, she would bow her head and hope that it stops. And if that doesn’t work she would try to distract herself by acting reckless. Hoping the adrenalin helps. Last but not least suppression.

Daniel: A short burst of anger at first but with comparably little aggression. He would take some time to recover but generally handles stuff like that well + would busy himself by worrying that Rachel might suffer as well and that he should take care of her… formerly, now: he’ll make sure you regret being alive.

Skadi: She has been cold and merciless… but has become much more vulnerable over time. The pain or sadness eating away at her. But she wouldn’t raise her hand and only cry very few tears when she is alone… but she would have a hard time to just let go of it all.

Mariana: First tears, then unproductive anger and last but not least she would try to walk the high road and meet the matter with a terrible, defensive yet passive-aggressive arrogance.

Jason: For a second his mouth would twitch. But he knows better than to lash out. Secretly he needs reassurance now but a beer with the buddies should be enough to make him feel better and to put things behind him… but whoever caused this better is ready to be treated with spite from now on.

Vanessa: That depends a lot on who hurts her or makes her sad. But a small fit of anger – not very scary – would probably be normal. After that petty revenge and pranks would probably be her way to make herself feel better together with arrogance ~ still a Slytherin after all.

Cain: He’d back down and out. Probably leaves for a while, to recover and maybe even decides to close that door behind himself forever because he is actually rather sensitive and doesn’t handle being treated badly or being hurt very well… he just wants to avoid experiencing the same a second time…neither does he necessarily want to forgive.

What are their best traits?

Allete: passionate, intelligent, quick thinker

Bel: clever, charming, good with animals

Cardia: brave, ready to help, honest

Jo: adventurous, carefree, fun to be with

Damian: charming, loyal, caring

Deicida: brave, protective, kind-hearted

Gabriele: independent, caring, brave

Jennifer: loyal, dependable, stays calm under pressure, compassionate

Ophelia: actually surprisingly kind under a rough shell, fair, lenient, has that weird talent that makes people sleep better when sleeping beside her

Aquila: cunning, intelligent, confident, perceptive

Kayleigh: humorous, witty, light-hearted, caring

Loreley: dependable, loyal, devoted

Lou: controlled, sweet, gives people a chance and brings out the best in them, honest

Phionee: brave, always doing her best, protective, outspoken

Rachel: smart, skilled, tough

Daniel: was protective, faithful bastion of calm, fighter… still a fighter, gets things done, devoted

Skadi: honest, intuitive, well-meaning, methodical, own moral code, loyal, intelligent, curious

Mariana: diligent, gentle, really wants to help others

Jason: tough, big heart he tries to hide, good listener, clever humour, natural leader

Vanessa: open minded aka candid, protective, curious, sly

Cain: outspoken, fighter, honest, attentive, affectionate, sense of justice, benevolent, dedicated

What are their worst traits?

Allete: manipulative, secretive, you never know if she is telling the truth, especially about her feelings

Bel: nicknamed Lord of Lies, short-tempered, vain when given the chance

Cardia: easy to anger, wary, sensitiv

Jo: restless, commitment issues, preference to run from problems

Damian: influenced by fear, hard time opening up, judgemental

Deicida: tough time to keep her emotions under control, secretly bloodthirsty, resentful

Gabriele: stubborn, out of touch with her feelings, when overwhelmed reacts cold and mean

Jennifer: it’s always head over heart, survivor’s guilt, drowns out her worries in coffee or scotch

Ophelia: moody, no faith in nothing loner despite wanting to be loved, gave up on trying to be good

Aquila: arrogant, manipulative, cold and calculating

Kayleigh: when angered… than devastating, tendency to take things too lightly, give and take mentality to a point

Loreley: vengeful, bitter, wary, emotional mess

Lou: trouble staying in control when angered or tired, attracts trouble, self-doubt, overthinking things

Phionee: too deeply hurt by tragedy, sensitive and troubled by what others think of her, only really cares about her group/family

Rachel: a tendency to come across hostile or heartless, cold, apparently lazy

Daniel: was too easy-going sometimes, willing to sacrifice himself, a bit curt… now possessive, aggressive, violent, mostly heartless

Skadi: quarrelsome, impulsive, stubborn, capricious, sharp-tongued, easily bored, sarcastic, sore

Mariana: trusts and loves too easily, seeks others’ approval a lot, easy to take advantage of

Jason: a bit reckless, hard time to push his emotions away, stubborn, doesn’t accept loss well, tendency to do what he thinks is right… for better or worse

Vanessa: sharp tongue, pranks people she doesn’t like, potentially arrogant attitude and aura, quick to anger

Cain: bears grudges, self-doubt and feeling of not belonging, argumentative, stubborn, tendency to be insensitive, always afraid to be abandoned, trouble with interpersonal relations, easy to anger

Foods: Are they a tea or coffee person? Do they eat meat or are they vegatarian? Spicy or mild? Sweet or sour?

Alette – Coffee, small doses but strong, with sugar. Rarely eats meat, not a vegetarian but just not very fond of meat in general. Mild with a touch of spicy… a very small touch. Neither to the extreme ~ she actually has high standards when it comes to food.

Bel – Liquor? So, none but she surprisingly loves smoothies a lot. Loves meat, could probably live on a meat only diet, if she didn’t like broccoli that much. Spicy, super spicy, the burns your tongue to hell and back spicy. Also, sour is cool. Everything that genuinely gives her other trouble than the ones she has for even a second. She especially likes super sour gum, even better if it’s also spicy.

Cardia – Tea – warming her hands, warming her heart, it comforts her but was hard to get on the Isle. Vegetarian… with the food on the Isle still the better choice. Mild and sweet, the sweeter the better, because she grew up rarely getting anything sweet… because there wasn’t much available and what they had on the Isle wasn’t necessarily affordable for her.

Jo – Strawberry milkshakes!!! But coffee is fine too, with a lot of flavours/syrup though. Jo isn’t a picky eater at all. If it gets her through the day, it’s fine. Would probably die for a homecooked meal though. More on the spicy side for a white woman, but aware that’s not much. Sweet… as you might have guessed already.

Damian – Coffee, black, a dash of sugar. That or the fancy Starbucks stuff – there is no in between. Yes, he does eat meat. He actually places value on being an omnivore though and sometimes feels like meat is everything in the world and sometimes like he never needs it again. Spicy makes him feel alive but his stomach doesn’t like it. And… bitter-sweet. He’d probably say with a wink, pulling a black coloured liquorice lollipop out of his mouth with a grin.

Deicida – Neither – both tastes terrible to her. She doesn’t really care about eating at all… but her body has proofed to accept vegan products more readily. Deicida doesn’t really need to eat though but she can taste and spicy stuff is not up her alley. She finds both sour and sweet interesting though.

Gabriele – Prefers hot chocolate but fruit tea is okay too. Yes, she does eat meat. Mild food, fond of sweet dishes and most kinds of porridge, mush or puree. Kind of sweet tooth, though more in the sweet dish and drinks way than actual sweets or candy. Would probably sell her soul for cheese.

Jennifer – Tea – black. What kind of question is that even. She does eat meat but prefers fish. Mild, she doesn’t care about the burning sensation. Sweet but not particular. She is the chips/crisps over chocolate kind of person. But sour is just not a kind of flavour she cares for at all.

Ophelia – Tea, herbal, strong, sweet, hot. Doesn’t eat any meat except for chicken, turkey, mutton and goat meat. Doesn’t need meat with every meal though. She likes spicy things alright and has a secret sweet tooth she doesn’t want people to know about.

Aquila – Tea actually, black tea with milk and sugar. It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s cooked well and with the right amount of spices. Not a bad cook herself but loves when others do it for her. Not particularly into spicy food or against it as long as the spiciness doesn’t kill the taste. Sweet-sour actually like sour candies and such or some citrus fruits.

Kayleigh – Both actually. She loves hot drinks in general. She doesn’t eat meat and avoids eggs. Can tolerate traces of it but the whole thing makes her nauseas – it’s not an allergy though but something different. Likes milk a lot though. Minds neither. And sweet ~ amazed by all the sweet things humanity came up with and wants to try everything if possible. No holding back!

Loreley – Coffee with lots of milk but no sugar. Is from a time where only rich people did get to have meat and unlike with the coffee never accustomed. Probably won’t turn it down when offered though but probably wouldn’t go for a meat dish either. Mild – very mild. And obsessed with dark chocolate and ice cream.

Lou – Tries to avoid both. But aunt Isabella’s café de olla is hard to resist. Otherwise raspberry ice tea is his favourite. Overall, he’s not too picky with his food. Likes simple dishes and those with a hundred spices. What is spicy? Doesn’t really have a sense for that, could probably eat cayenne pepper and chilli powder by the spoonful with a shrug… he had worse when aunt Valentina cooked. Is super sensitive too sour stuff though and not particularly fond of overly sweet stuff either. Doesn’t like caramel for example but lollipops are fine. Ironically, would run into even the most obvious trap for pecan pie.

Phionee – What is coffee… or tea? She’s from outer space, but she likes most kinds of milk. No, she doesn’t eat meat nor vegetables. Has found out supplements and a lot of water and ice work best for her. Needs a lot of salt though and could probably live of nutritious mud. Doesn’t care about spicy or mild, sweet or sour stuff, can’t even taste the latter pair. But she likes food with a bit of crunch. Would love plain cornflakes if she was introduced to them.

Rachel – Coffee all kinds. But rather as a remedy for exhaustion and fatigue instead of for the pleasure or taste. She doesn’t see the point in avoiding any food as long as it meets her three criteria she’s in for it. 1.) dead – like not moving 2.) done – like fully cooked 3.) not rotten in any form or way… will make an exception for fermentation in many cases though. Mild is less trouble. Sweet promises more energy. Food is mostly fuel and remedies though… secretly really loves pancakes and fried eggs with sweet-chilli-sauce though.

Daniel – Coffee – lots of it and little sweetener. He enjoys the bitter taste and the warmth. Life is short, food is good. As long as it’s warm and good he only picks out mushrooms and olives and has Rachel eat them for him. Generally, eats what he feels like, as long as it isn’t too much. Is okay with spicy stuff, will order mild though when ask so that Rachel can try his food too. Would probably be tempted to sell his own mother for chocolate cake and dark chocolate brownies.

That was before… since then he has mostly stopped caring about food, as long as it keeps him going… also likes spicy and sour much more because they remind him of… something… feelings... ugh such a human and weak thing.

Skadi – Tea mostly, anything except fruit tea. Also drinks it without sugar and quite a bit of it, mostly during sleepless nights. She eats a lot of meat actually. And doesn’t like spices very much… maybe a dash of salt at best. But the closer to tasteless and plain food is, the better… has a really hard time with spices in general and tends to get sick from very well-seasoned food or cuisine that uses a lot of spices. Hates takeout because of that. Loves white rice, popcorn and white coloured food in general. Likes salty food best.

Mariana – Coffee. She LOVES coffee. Especially with a bit of hot cocoa mixed into it but generally all kinds of coffee. Mariana doesn’t mind meat and likes spicy food quite a bit. But she rarely has time to cook and relies a lot on take out and such even before the trouble with her mutation. And she also likes sweet things, especially in combination with fruits no matter if it’s sugar, honey, caramel or chocolate.

Jason – Coffee�� lots of sugar, kind of running on it in the morning. And he really enjoys meat and especially a good barbecue. He also likes sea food, and anything made from potatoes a lot. He tries to live a bit healthier than it sounds though and unfortunately isn’t much of a cook himself. He’s pretty good at preparing cold meals and provisions though. And he really likes spicy food even though he is not very good with it – it’s probably kind of a secret masochistic thing. Sweet-sour like in berries aka he likes all kinds of berries a lot.

Vanessa – Tea. Big mugs, with milk and a bit of sugar. She makes the best sandwiches you can imagine without having to try them first to know what ingredients go together well. That does neither exclude nor necessarily include meat. She’s doesn’t really like too spicy food and isn’t generally very good with it – so mild. And sweet, definitely sweet. She prefers baked goods over chocolate and other stuff though. Vanessa loves cherry Bakewell tarts the most, followed by Battenberg cake.

Cain – Tea, herbal is best, but cooled down already. Also iced tea, because he can’t really tolerate carbonated beverages. No, he eats fish and other sea food though. But meat doesn’t feel right in his mouth. Mild, he is kind of sensitive to spicy stuff but that is rarely a problem because he cooks a lot of his meals himself. Both – to a point. Sweet but not artificial sweetness. More like rip fruits or maybe honey. And sour goes well with a bunch of fish dishes… but he doesn’t like anything purely sour.

Their vice(s) and something they are really good in?

Allete: good food/pearls & going undercover

Bel: vanity/alcohol/lying & fighting, leading armies and dealing with animals

Cardia: sweets & telling stories/tending to flowers

Jo: cowardice/sex & tracking down people

Damian: alcohol/cigarettes/lying/caffeine & singing

Deicida: curiosity/recklessness & dancing

Gabriele: wrath/pride/lust? … hopefully never alcohol & repairing and constructing technical devices/videogames

Jennifer: alcohol/purses & gathering info/patching people up

Ophelia: anger/loss of faith/sweets & origami/taking people’s breath away

Aquila: lying/gambling/pride & poker/manipulating people

Kayleigh: gluttony when given the chance/keeping secrets & taking care of magical artefacts/keeping secrets

Loreley: vengeful/envy/indifference & singing/manipulating people

Lou: indifference/anger to a point but mostly because his anger is so dangerous & music, especially playing the violin

Phionee: according to her own people the words: emotions/lust/narcotics & keeping a place together/stealing/escaping

Rachel: despair/remorse/caffeine & finding cases/magic

Daniel: before: caffeine/pride mostly, now: acedia/wrath & fighting/self-sufficiency/driving

Skadi: pride/distraction/remorse & hunting/skiing/standing the cold

Mariana: jealousy/concealment of wrong doing/caffeine & sleeping/dreaming

Jason: pride/berries/cigarettes when nervos & billiard actually/barbecuing/alcohol tolerance

Vanessa: pranks/bears grudges/pride & making sandwiches/potions and herbology

Cain: anger/pride/fruits/in his eyes being of mixed race & swimming/cooking/healing

Do they have a superpower?

Allete: No. She speaks several languages though.

Bel: Kind of. As one of the kings of hell who only answer to Lucifer himself she has 50 legions of spirits under her command. She is also able to create familiars, is stronger than a normal human, well trained with knives and has a very long lifespan.

Cardia: Yes, but it’s magic. She can find ways and portal that connect places and use them to travel, much like it was common custom in Wonderland before things first went array and then changed forever.

Jo: Yes – she is a mutant. Her eyes are special. She can determine the strength of everybody she meets due to the number she sees above their heads, has night vision, heat vision and can see far very far and more. She needs reading glasses though.

Damian: No – not exactly. Though the way he can charm and manipulate people might as well be a superpower in the end. But not in general.

Deicida: Yes? Blade legs, would be hard to kill due to her skin, doesn’t really age, long living… all since she has been forged not born. That and that she can draw the blood of gods + transforming between a blade and a more human form.

Gabriele: Yes – she is a mutant. Her power is technopathy. She can communicate with technical devices via her thoughts. Find out what is wrong to repair it later… or pushing them to give it their all one last time and work. Technical devices in general try to do her favours and she can ready electrical signals.

Jennifer: No – not in the classical sense.

Ophelia: Yes – she is a metahuman and able to control wind and air. She has the potential to be rather powerful but isn’t willing to find out her limits. Also, locking her in a room with poor ventilation aka only air-condition can kill her.

Aquila: No, not really. She is extremely clever and cunning though and actually a book character brought to life by an old magic… too cunning though to have made that known to others and be sent back so far… even though the name she chose is a kind of obvious play on her real name… or so she likes to think. But staying close to the truth often makes it easier to deceive people.

Kayleigh: You could say that. She is kind of goddess and her power is a terrible one. But without her the world would be in trouble too. And despite currently staying on earth she still fulfils her duty and has her “weapon” with her… but even if it did fall into the hands of someone else, her power would wear of the “weapon” quickly and it would soon be just a plain old… of what it is.

Loreley: Yes – she is not a god but an old mythological figure. Like a spirit. She has less powers but still some. Like her voice being able to lure people – mostly men – into danger and death. She also doesn’t really age. The gods are still much more powerful, but she has her own tricks.

Lou: Yes – he is a metahuman. Able to control people with his voice and make them bide to his will. If he leaves they are soon freed from his “spell”. If he stays but doesn’t say anything further, it still takes a lot longer. Lou has to carefully watch what he says to not accidently hurt people by using his power. A power because of which people tend to expect that he just has to be a villain.

Phionee: No, she is an alien and therefore has a few other perks and problems than humans. Like only living about half as long and needing cool temperatures. But aside of that and a tail she doesn’t have any superpowers.

Rachel: Yes and no? Not superpowers but magic. Rachel is a very versed, usually good, witch. Powerful enough so that there are rumours that she surely has a covenant with a demon going. Well it’s not a covenant for sure, but she is still pretty talented.

Daniel: No, originally he was close to peak human condition at best. But now things are different and he has obtained all the powers of a demon… unfortunately by becoming one.

Skadi: Yes, she is a frost giant and the Asgardian goddess of winter, hunting and skiing. Her magical powers controlling ice, snow, blizzards and the like are rather powerful. And she has all the perks of Jotun but also all the trouble. But it’s still a powerful combination.

Mariana: Yes – she is a mutant. Able to dive into the dreams of others while sleeping, to jump between dreams and control them to a point. Marianna can also “store” sleep for later and if she doesn’t actively control it she emits an aura that makes others sleepy. Before things went down she was known to hold night classes at the Institute, gathering the students in a dream and teaching their subconscious directly. She only has access to people that are currently sleeping… but if she kills someone in a dream… they never wake up again.

Jason: No – he’s well trained and fit. But he doesn’t have any superpowers he knows of.

Vanessa: Magic? Like all students at Hogwarts she knows how to conjure a spell, mix a potion, stuff like that. But there is no super outstanding ability people would know of or she would admit to.

Cain: Yes, kind of. Due to his mixed heritage he is able to change between a more human form and that of a merman, scally tail, gills and all. The folk of his mother also seems to know some interesting to potent magic. He is not extremely versed in it though since he opted against dedicating his life to magic and magic alone from a young age on.

What do they really want?

Allete: Peace and prosperity – no matter what she has to do for it.

Bel: Appreciation and acceptance – without having to change completely and the beauty she would get back that way.

Cardia: For her mother to get her meds, the nice normal life the good kids got and traveling [without having to worry about her mum].

Jo: Finding a place and a person to stay without feeling trapped and to keep doing something with her life that feels meaningful.

Damian: Not to die… the love of a certain person… neither of which seems archivable + success as a singer and musician would be nice.

Deicida: To understand emotions and be happy – at least for a while before she has to return to be a sword again.

Gabriele: A place where people like her are save. No more mistreated mutant kid like her and the others… but she has stopped believing in tolerance… so a parallel society maybe? Actually that she could just be normal and have normal problems… not feeling the burden on her shoulders or trying to provide a safe haven for the others.

Jennifer: For everybody to survive… and Kingsman to keep fighting for the right things. Also to be able to act on certain feelings… but that is not an option.

Ophelia: To stop being bad… though she can’t believe in it any longer. Then just to survive and for the irredeemable criminals to die… and she definitely believes that those exist. Also killing the Joker.

Aquila: To proof that she is better than… but also not to return to her book. She actually likes to be more than a character of a fictional story.

Kayleigh: For life to keep blooming and being able to indulge in all the energy of life. Aka for things never to end and humanity and nature to keep prospering. Also, just to enjoy her disguise as long as she can.

Loreley: That her sweetheart didn’t cheat on her all those many, many years ago. That her heart could be unbroken and not shattered… but also the power back she once had, when her name was whispered only because men feared her power and woman were mesmerised and scared, of what she could do and did, at the same time.

Lou: To be accepted as “not a villain” would be a start… that people encourage him instead of being so sure he won’t be able to make it anyway. Or to get rid of the power, at least for a bit to be able to tell people to “go to hell” and “I wish you were dead.” Without there being serious consequences.

Phionee: A place to call home and be accepted for who she is… she had that for a while. Now that her “son(s)” has his own kind of family and place to belong to and the death of an important person in her life all she wants is to die… go out with a bang before her time is up anyway.

Rachel: Have the old days back. Those when she and Daniel were just traveling around hunting things and it wasn’t the end of the world what felt like every second month. She never realised how good and easy it was when her biggest problem was some poltergeist.

Daniel: The tiny bit of humanity left in him might want the same as Rachel does… the rest of him though… a comfortable life, Rachel as his slave/lover and to not be bothered anymore by all this doing good and saving people stuff. Maybe the reign over a small city would be nice too.

Skadi: A place to belong to in a way… and just to heal, slowly, at her own pace. Which means she’s comparably content right now but always afraid that it will just be over as well.

Mariana: Someone to love to and who loves her. Being valued for who she is… also to be accepted back into society and if that doesn’t work to rule it with her fellow mutants. But more than anything she wants to be loved… it seems that easy.

Jason: He’s not so sure about that. For life to be nice and an adventure? To people making it out alive of their missions and others getting better? He doesn’t really ask for much. Just wants to do his best in this life and place, while not forgetting about living and being a human being.

Vanessa: World peace? No but really, she wants for people – including herself – to be able to live a comfortable life, free of fear and filled with tolerance. But for now… just getting done with school and finding a job she likes would be nice. Also, there might be someone she has a crush on… but that’s a different story.

Cain: For people to forget the other half. No matter where he is, they never fully trust him. He always feels like shut out. And the one person he wanted a deeper connection with declined that… staying “just friends” is hard when he never feels like people trust him or want him around. All while all he wants is feeling like he belongs.

Phase 3 - FREEFORM!

Write a story about them (Are they from different worlds; how would they interact if they met up?) Make aesthetic board(s) for one or many. Have a snippet of dialogue between them. Maybe quotes from each of them? Whatever you want!

I might write a story, but later when I have the inspiration and time for it. For now, please enjoy my OC aesthetics with quotes ~

And thank you to @cantankerousintrovertedpumpkin for tagging me in this. Sorry it took me forever but OCs is... kind of thing for me as you might notice and there are so many... and I just couldn’t make up my mind to only chose 5-10 SORRY!!!

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queerloquial · 7 years

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1. First game you played obsessively?2. A game that has influenced you creatively? Writing, drawing, etc.11. Have you ever made new friends from playing video games?36. Have you ever shed actual blood, sweat or tears over a game?48. How long does it take your to customize your player character?50. If you were a game designer, what masterpiece would you create?69. In your opinion, best game ever made?

1. First game you played obsessively?

babys first video game and major special interest, skyrim. which i currently have roughly 1500-plus hours on between regular and special edition

2. A game that has influenced you creatively? Writing, drawing, etc.

the vast majority of my fic has been for dragon age. its just such a neat world and i love getting to play around in it, even though i dislike a lot of what biowares done with their own setting in later pieces and prefer to sandbox on my own

11. Have you ever made new friends from playing video games?

well first of all, dragon age brought me to the love of my life, so jot that down :>

second, aside from my darling datemate, video game fandom did land me some awesome mutuals, a number of whom are still around years later even though we share almost no interests and barely ever interact. technically quinns the only one who could be defined as a friend, bc we talk fairly regularly and stuff, but aside from the occasional reply to personal posts most of my mutuals are silent but still dear to my heart

36. Have you ever shed actual blood, sweat or tears over a game?

when i get frustrated i tend to slam my hand down beside me or on my knee but one time i misjudged the landing spot and caught my hand on the edge of my laptop and scraped my hand, does that count

48. How long does it take your to customize your player character?

chargen takes an hour, minimum, and thats if im familiar with the cc and have a character in mind already

50. If you were a game designer, what masterpiece would you create?

dudebruh, idk. the first thing in my head was ‘ace and aro friendly romance/qplatonic relationship arcs’ and ‘canon nonbinary characters’, so i guess thats a thing. ive never been particularly good at plots (hence, why all my fic is one-shot fluff...), altho i did once have an ongoing story in my head about a fallen god trying to get back to the overworld to stop the ruling goddess from destroying everything, and maybe in the process clear his name with the mortals who had hated and feared him for centuries if not millenia bc the goddess had warped the legends to reverse their roles and paint him as the callous self-centered destroyer instead of the literal author of life whose job had been to keep the record books of history so that no soul faded from eternal memory

maybe something with that

69. In your opinion, best game ever made?

uhhhh. shit. i mean theyve all got high and low points, and some i like more for the sandbox they gave me than for anything in canon. i like dragon age: origins and da2, but dao is tedious to replay and i feel like in order to get my ideal ending in 2 i have to trawl the wiki and plan out all my dialogue choices and party constructions for each quest before i start playing. inquisition is pretty and i liked the story i crafted with my lavellan (and also being a knight enchanter, even after the nerf its still super powerful with the right skills picked), but it doesnt really fit other ocs and the first several hours are a drag to play

ive enjoyed what ive played of andromeda so far, although it really couldve benefited from more development time and care from the parent company. i liked me1 and what ive completed of 2, though im terrible at combat, and dont often have the spoons for the level of concentration needed to pay attention to plot things (which is why i like exploration-heavy games, tbh)

fallout 4 is one of my favorites, id say. i tried new vegas, with two different characters,and just couldnt get into it. i think my biggest problem with 4 is that it kinda forces you into a specific character at certain points (ranging from having a nuclear family at the start and automatic attachment to your spouse and child, to being limited in good options in nuka world, down to the very trivial bit in the bradberton quest where you can only object to letting him live bc then you dont get cool weapons, and not bc /hes been living essentially in solitary confinement for 200 years/ and wants to rest, which i only remember so strongly bc i was going through my screenshots the other night and got grumpy about it all over again)

saints row is a series i like almost exclusively for the sandbox. my boss’ life follows maybe 10% of game canon; it might as well be an original work that just happens to have cities called stilwater and steelport and a gang known as the saints

dream daddy was cute and fun (and i Love damian and mary, and also amanda, best daughter), skyrim is my longest-running game and i enjoyed oblivion as well, starbound fulfills my need for mindless exploration and resource hoarding without the need for any plot or direction, stardew valley is adorable and lets me be a polyamorous bi nerdlord with a sweet farm...

i cant really pick a favorite tbh

#misc tag #endlessly screaming into the void #askbox meme reply #numberless-doors

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easilydistractedandamused · 7 years

Text

Chapter 3: A Real Life Ebenezer Scrooge

“Mr. Batson?” Sandra said approaching the door and she hadn’t been able to knock before the door swung open, causing her to hastily step back and would’ve almost tripped if Billy hadn’t placed his hands very firmly on her back to prevent that.

“Oh, Billy!” the bony old man said with a large grin that unnerved the thirteen year old who was more focused on helping Sandra straighten up. “I’ve missed you so much!” he cried out, pulling the preteen in for a hug that felt more like a bear trap in the child’s mind. “Thank you so much for bringing my nephew back to me, Mister Smith, miss Wilson,” he said to the two and Billy thought that was rude, because Sandra did most of the work but got so little of the credit

The old man ushered the three in, giving them drinks and offering them snacks.

“Oh no, we can’t stay long,” Sanda said, idly looking around the room but Billy knew from experience she was assessing and inspecting. If she thought for one second that his uncle couldn’t, or wouldn’t, take care of him properly he would be taken right back to the Vasquez’s. Unfortunately for Billy, she was too trusting in his opinion. How else would he have been placed in abusive homes? Than again, they had very convincing masks in place as much as he hated to admit it.

All too soon though, they had to leave as Billy not wanting to be here was not a factor in him staying here and even though he expected the smile to lessen and for uncle Ebenezer to tell him his plans with Billy, but his attitude hadn’t changed as he showed Billy his room.

It was small, smaller than his room at the Vasquez’s, but certainly large enough to live in comfortably. That small part of Billy he had never been able to squash down was saying that maybe he really did change his mind, really did regret it, but that was the part of him that got hurt every time. It was the stupid part of him that had far too much faith in people and caused him way too much pain

Making himself comfortable in the room, he tested the window and found he could easily slip onto the roof and sat up there for hours, basking in the warmth from the sun before slipping back in when it started to get dark.

Uncle E might be making food and he wouldn’t react well to Billy sitting on the roof. Whatever he had planned for him, he needed Billy alive.

Waiting until his uncle went to sleep, he slipped out of the house and into a far enough location to call out the name, turning on his communicator.

“You seem distracted. Is something going on in Gotham?” Clark asked Bruce in the Watchtower, noticing how he wasn’t performing monitor duty the way he usually did. He was usually far more focused than this and if he’d been Hal, Barry, or Shazam, he’d think the other man was bored but no, this was Bruce . Bruce didn’t bore easily. The man did stakeout for over 24 hours without moving from his perch.

“No, it’s...personal,” he said deciding his words carefully.

“Does it have to do with Damian?” he asked concerned as that was usually what that phrasing meant.

“No,” he answered and the door slip open, giving them a tail end of a conversation.

“...I swear man, he’s planning something,” Shazam was saying.

“I don’t know man, he’s your uncle. Maybe he’s just trying to apologize,” Victor said.

“You don’t know my uncle,” he said shaking his head. “I’m pretty sure he would’ve sold me into child enslavement if he thought he could get away with it,” he said and Victor stared at him for a long moment.

“So this is where you get your trust issues from,” he finally said, making Shazam scowl.

“I don’t have trust issues,” he said.

“You do, you have some serious trust issues man,” he said.

“Mind if I ask what you two are talking about?” Clark asked and Shazam looked at Batman, reminding them of the strange competition between the two. Since he wouldn’t Batman who he really was, Bruce refused to tell him like he did with others. When members joined, he would tell them after he made it clear he knew everything about them, putting himself at an advantage and making it very clear that he could ruin them, that he knew their weaknesses. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find any weakness in Shazam yet, but so far he was counting on Superman and Wonder Woman to take him down if he ever went rogue (the lasso of truth might help them).

“My uncle decided to contact me again years after he kicked me onto the streets when I was a child. I think he’s planning something, Vic thinks he feels bad about it,” he finally answered, giving nothing away while describing the situation.

“Does he know about you being Shazam?” Bruce asked him.

“I don’t tell people,” he answered, reciting the reason he gave Batman when he asked to know who he was (or even just a clue, really). “I especially don’t tell people I don’t trust and I don’t trust my uncle,” he said.

“See? Trust issues,” Victor said.

“Just because I don’t trust a member of my family doesn’t mean I have trust issues. My uncle is the living embodiment of Scrooge and if the ghosts of Christmas Past ever did visit him it certainly didn’t do anything,” he said decidedly.

“Ghosts of Christmas past? I do not understand? Why are their ghosts visiting people on one of your holidays?” Diana asked confused.

“Well, I know what we’re watching in December,” Hal said.

“He’s referencing a movie. Well, a movie and a book, really,” Barry said.

“Something wrong, Billy?” he asked at breakfast, smiling that sickeningly sweet smile.

“Yeah, you don’t honestly think I’m being fooled by this act, do you?” he asked, making the smile falter.

“Ah, so you’ve actually gained some intelligence in your time away,” he said and Billy had to bite back the urge to bare his teeth at the older man. “See, the thing is, I found an old letter from your mother. Why, it was the most interesting thing,” he said blinking falsely innocent eyes and Billy was starting to feel sick. “It had to do with your father,” he said.

“What about him?” he asked.

“Turns out, that old bastard C.C wasn’t your real father,” he said with a grin that made cold seep into Billy’s bones.

“No, no you're wrong,” he said, not wanting to believe it.

“Do you want to see the letter? I have a copy of it. She wrote it herself, even included the results to a paternity test in it,” he offered and Billy took a shaky breath.

“I doubt you brought me here for some regular old man you could steal money from,” Billy said, eyes closed.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t have even noticed the letter if it was a regular guy,” he admitted. “The name was what caught my attention, I’m sure you know it too, a certain...Bruce Wayne?” he asked and Billy felt like he was part of some sick joke right now.

“So that’s it? You want to get his money?” he asked already standing up

“Seeing as you’re his son, that gives you—us really, seeing as I raised you—access to his money,” he said.

“Raised me?” Billy demanded. “I’ve stayed under your roof for an exact week total! I’ve stayed at Foster Homes longer than you!” he spat out angrily.

“Be that as it may, but as his son, it’s a very good chance you’ll get all of his money when he croaks and considering his lifestyle, that’s not long from now, and you can do whatever it is you do,” he said with a smile but Billy was glaring at him.

“First off, he barely even knows me. I wouldn’t put it past him to give one of his other children his money and for him to ignore me like some dirty little secret which, really, I probably am considering mom never told me this little tidbit,” he said, turning on his heel and stalking toward the door before he could punch his uncle.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he demanded. “I’ve already written Wayne, he’s already coming down here!” he yelled, starting to stand on his spindly little legs

“To be with people that actually care about me,” he responded, door slamming shut behind him. “ God , I can’t believe I ever let myself think that he actually changed,” he said to himself as he walked down the streets. This is what happens when you give some people second chances, Billy knew, to give the benefit of the doubt. Almost every time, you got burned.

One day, he was going to learn his lesson and stop having so much faith. But, a small secretive part of him couldn’t help but think, that’s probably also the day that he’ll lose his faith in humanity and become like Black Adam.

Dick winced as he watched the kid storm away, taking a picture with the high end binoculars and sent it to Bruce with the message ‘he just found out about you’, that was a face he knew well, it was the same face Bruce made when he was angry.

He really does take after him, he thought, watching as he stalked toward the Vasquez’s radiating such anger that people started to avoid him.

“So, I’m guessing it wasn’t good,” Darla said when she saw him and before the Vasquez’s could see him, they guided him into the backyard where he sat on the swing set.

“Turns out my dad wasn’t really my dad,” he said with a scowl. “I have a biological father I didn’t know about,” he said.

“That’s...good?” Darla said unsure.

“No, no it’s not good. Mom took a paternity test a long time ago. She cheated on my dad and he probably even knew it too!” he said jumping to his feet, beginning to pace. “He probably hated me, because I probably reminded him of that fact. I’ve seen it in plenty of other homes,” he said recalling a few foster homes. “So much for the memory of my parents love,” he said with a scowl.

“Billy, that’s not true and you know it,” Darla said putting her hand on his shoulder.

“No, no, even though I was a little kid at the time I have no doubt that eventually he would’ve shown that hatred, he wouldn’t have been able to force himself to smile when he looked at me, and their marriage would’ve been ruined. All because mom slept with Bruce Wayne,” he said.

“Bruce Wayne? The billionaire?” Freddy asked curious.

“Yeah. Mom slept with a rich guy and wound up pregnant. I don’t need to read her letter to the guy to know that much,” he said with a dark scowl but back at the batcave, where he was listening in, Bruce closed his eyes. Marilyn had been right in her letter, that Billy would doubt his father’s love in him if he had known. The memory he had of a loving family was being tainted by a greedy old man.

“Don’t be so crude, man,” Freddy said.

“Still, it would be interesting if I moved to Gotham,” he said.

“Don’t joke around like that,” Darla said and he shot her a grin.

“I could never be some billionaire’s kid anyway. He probably doesn’t even care really, maybe he’ll just toss some money around and hope I go away,” he said leaning the pole to the swing.

“Billy,” Darla said warningly.

“Relax, it’s a joke,” he said rolling his eyes. “I mean, the Vasquez’s are gonna get tired of me anyway, at least with Wayne, if he got tired of me, he could send to some far away fancy school,” he said and shit, this kid had some severe trust issues, didn’t he.

“Billy, don’t talk like that,” Darla said looking hurt.

“They’re idiots who like helping too many people. No reason for my room to get dusty while they want to bring in another kid,” he said and though gruff, they knew it was an offer of kindness from him. Help another kid who might need it more, he was really saying.

“You’re still our family,” Darla told him.

“Foster family,” he corrected, but not cruelly, as he was smiling as he said it, like it was some kind of inside joke, making her smile at him. “And I’ve had worse foster families,” he told her, more softly, letting out the kindness in his eyes that he usually hid away, a rare sight that always made her smile.

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flashfictionforpittance · 5 years

Text

Pact (VTMB):

Geight swung his sack into the air and released, letting the momentum carry it over the chain-link fence and listening to it whump onto the other side. The contents, long silent and mostly dead, piled up inside to shape the thing like a sleeping dog, hunched over against the cold. Geight scaled the fence, looped his lankiness over and let himself drop the two feet between his dangling feet and the ground. Being tall was useful for trespassing, not so much for the next part. He got on all fours, doubled over with his sack on his back, and crept as best he could toward the warehouse. It was your typical Spooky Hiding Place for The Damned (TM). Brutalist, concrete architecture with rusted equipment in the yard, long abandoned due to mass corruption from the men in charge and innumerable worker’s rights violations. How cliche.

Nearing one of the windows, Geight settled beneath it, dusted the gravel off his shins and picked up a rock. He opened the sack and wasted one of the (mostly) limp furballs on covering it up. The windows still protested at being smashed, albeit less so. After a tense few seconds Geight remained un-discovered, and eased his arm through the window to unlock it, then opened it and vaulted inside. It was pretty standard layout-wise. Concrete. Rusted conveyor belts just seething with tetanus. Abandoned hardhats scattered around the floor like migrating tortoises. Meh. The real drama was going to take place upstairs, not in this shithole, anyway. Not that Geight was going to get to participate. At least, not directly.

He made his way over to the vent that was ingrained in a nearby wall, and helpfully signposted with an “X” sprayed above it. He eased the panel off, realising as he did so that his wrist was bleeding real good, all over his last clean shirt. Must’ve nicked it on the window. Shit. He hadn’t even noticed. He dithered a bit, waiting for the wound to close like he was waiting to use a public restroom, and was too polite to knock and ask who the hell could be taking so long to finish crying in the stalls. It was about as fun.

It was even less fun in the vents. Imagine trying to fit a ruler (with a limp beanie baby taped at its middle) all the way inside one of those hamster tube mazes, and you get the idea. Lost of hard angles, hella dust, air close enough to make your lungs start drooling, and lubricated with sweat. Geight felt like a baby giraffe trying to navigate an anaconda’s birth canal. His arms protested as he hauled himself up to each new level, and he wondered how literally anyone else could’ve managed this without his freakish height to help them. Didn’t make it any less shitty or painful, but Geight tried his best to ignore it. After all, he might not be the strongest, but could you imagine him trying to fight his way up here? No chance.

As far as fledgling vampires went, Geight was probably the least lucky. He was a Tremere, which basically meant a good sneaker, crappy fighter, and that his clanmates were all witchy hippies who wrote poetry in their spare time and shunned their gangly protege. He’d also said some unsavoury things to his sire on the matter, which hadn’t done him any favours, but fuck em. Maybe that’s why he’d picked up this job. The Tremere stood to benefit from this deal, and to suffer if Geight did his job, serving a few just desserts (his inability to eat desserts being another sore topic), while he’d find himself under the wing of a new step-sire. Hopefully.

Geight was finally at the top floor. He ran his fingers over the “x” sprayed on the vent wall, marking where he was to wait with his bag of freshly deceased gofers like some middle ages fur salesman who didn’t have all the right connections yet. In the close air, they were getting ripe. That Brujah upstart better be legit.

Voices. Geight eased himself along to the grate a little ways ahead, through which the top floor of the warehouse flourished like it was an intricate diorama, and Geight the judgemental principle. It was A+ material. Though it was just an abandoned concrete cube last week, now it was straight out of a Nosferatu movie. Plush rugs languished at angles over the floor, supporting about a dozen wrought iron candelabras that stood as tall as the Toreador dipshit at the forefront, the light bouncing off his chiselled face. Toreador were the pretty boys. In a new age vampire movie, they were the femme fatales and tortured anti-heroes who possessed that otherworldly beauty that softens human defences better than any drug or hypnosis ever could. This guy was older, like an English teacher who was in his late thirties but was in good shape, sensitive, and made you blush when he complimented the crappy fanfiction you turned in instead of homework. Glasses. Wild hair combed and tamed but still obviously windswept. A black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, top button undone. He was a dish. It pissed Geight off to no end; the only thing he wanted more than to fuck a Toreador, was to be a Toreador.

Not to be upstaged, a second vampire presented herself on the red leather (the two words that pretty much defined the vampire aesthetic) couch behind him. Geight had heard of them. These guys were the actual Nosferatu vampires, named for the most famous one in recent history. They got this, plus an intricate underground network, the best sneaking abilities out of everybody, and being a priceless cornerstone of vampire society, in exchange for a face that looked like you’d taken a hammer to it then stitched it back together with your eyes closed. This one had horns and all, plus a face that was half collapsed into itself, and half swollen, so it looked like her head was being pushed to one side all the time. She compensated with an intricate henna around her face, which at the very least gave you an excuse to stare at her without being rude. She was laying into the Toreador. ‘Ya know there’s no way they’ll bring it, right?’ she rasped with the timbre of a cancer riddled chain-smoker. ‘even if they really do have the crypt-key, it’s not like they’ll just hand it over without a fight.’

The Toreador rubbed the space between his eyes, lifting his glasses with his thumb. Geight was pretty sure he didn’t need them. But if there was one thing vampires loved it was an aesthetic. ‘Listen to you,’ his husky voice alone made Geight hot under the collar. ‘is the artefact really all you can think about? It’s worthless. Even if the crypt still exists, it’s probably overrun with malevolent ghosts by now, half of which are probably from the first dozen treasure hunters who tried to clear the place out, and killed each other when they realised the stories of untold wealth were a total fabrication. The key is merely a symbol of trust, Vivian. I highly doubt that the wolves have any more inclination to use the damn thing than we do.’ Typical Toreador. Why use ten words when you can use forty? He was probably right, though. The key was worthless. All it symbolised was the werewolves’ desire to make peace, and share the territory. A desire shared by, let’s say, seventy percent of local kindred. The rest? Not so much.

Geight was impartial. He was just doing whatever he needed to get into a less shitty position. The Anarchs had made their offer, and the Tremere had made none at all. Easy choice. Still. The smell of those wolves as they shambled into view, it was putrid. They’d dressed up a little, black tie formal, sprayed on some knock off cologne, but they all still smelled like wet dog and dry piss to Geight. There were three of them, two young, one old who led the group, and who held an ornate wooden box in his hands, presenting it like the ring bearer at a wedding. Even the Toreador looked like he was struggling to maintain composure. ‘Ah, gentlemen. So glad you could make it. I understand this night is hardest for you. Needless to say, we deeply appreciate the dedication to our agreement.’

The Nosferatu swept onto her feet and smiled. Even from up here Geight could see her fragmented teeth, like she’d been hit in the face with a goddamn train. But like all Nosferatu, she somehow maintained a regular level of diction. ‘Good to meet you,’ she presented her hand. ‘Name’s Viv, I’m here representin’ the Nosferatu.’ this was less of a polite gesture than a test. Even other kindred weren’t fans of touching the Nosferatu. Credit to him, the leader of the pack gripped Viv’s hand and shook it firmly, and did the same for the Toreador.

He spoke. His tone was flat. No sign of strain even on a full moon. He must have been older, with enough cycles behind him for this to be second nature. ‘And we appreciate the risk you both take in being here, Damian. I suppose the other clan leaders won’t be joining us? Oh, no,’ he raised a hand apologetically as the Toreador began to interrupt. ‘please, there’s no need to explain. The bloodshed between us has been too great to measure. Your fellows are right to be wary, even if they do agree with the pact. Hopefully, our violent history will soon be behind us.’

The Toreador, Damian, relaxed. ‘Yes, I agree. My apologies all the same, though. My cohort will surely understand their folly in time, when the hunters have been driven out of this fine city. However much we may have harmed each other, their influence is far more volatile. After all, we all share a common enemy, why not unite against it?’ It continued like this for about ten more minutes, and Geight’s brain switched off. They were just saying the same thing over and over to each other, each leader trying to make it sound a little more profound and a little more like his own idea. Viv was bored too. She’d gone back to lounging, eyes half closed. Maybe she was eyeing up one of the silent wolves? Who knew.

There’d been a flood of hunters in recent weeks. The Anarchs said it was because the Kindred and the Wolves were so concerned with fighting each other and scoring points, they’d let slip the masquerade. Geight reckoned they’d all been ratting each other out. Luring the enemy into harm’s way, making it harder to hide themselves when good old Churchy Mc ChristKnife came sniffing around. Maybe it was a bit of both. Anyway, this alliance would last about ten minutes even without Geight’s intervention. The second the hunters were gone, old wounds would re-open and suddenly nobody would have a reason to get along anymore. The Anarchs thought the same. That, and the Werewolves were too strong to play War and Peace with. When this alliance went tits up, the Kindred were as good as kibble. It wasn’t worth letting their guard down. So they said.

Raised voices in the warehouse. Geight woke up and peered through the grate. The box in the pack leader’s hands was open, Damian and Viv staring agawk at what was inside. Viv was scatting. ‘H-how did ya, t-that’s impossible! D-Damian, is it-’

Damian took a broad step back, pulling Viv with him. He cleared his throat. Without them in the way, Geight could see it clearly. A silver claw, as long as a bear’s, shining bright enough to make him wince from all the way up here. It seemed to have an engraving on it, but with the glint it was impossible to make out. There was something else about it, too. It scared the living shit out of Geight. Just looking at it made him feel like there was someone right behind him, poised and ready to sink their claws into his neck and pin him mercilessly to the ground as he was shredded, from his back all the way into his chest cavity. He kinda wanted to drop the gofers now. They were supposed to make the wolves frenzy, all bloody and all, send this whole thing down the tubes. But that feeling made him hesitate. He was shit scared for the first time since his embrace.

‘I didn’t think the legends were true,’ said Damian, regaining his composure. ‘the claw of an ancient wolf, an antediluvian if you’ll excuse our terminology. I thought they were all lost.’

Viv was aghast. She was pacing, grinding her decimated teeth. ‘This ain’t what we agreed on, guys. Like, it’s real nice, and all, but...like, where’s the crypt key? That’s what was agreed. How da we know this isn’t some trick to get us into your debt? Not ta throw dispersions or nothing.’

The pack leader closed the box and it was like the whole room sighed. The tension seeped out. The fear subsided. ‘The crypt key is a useless relic. It means nothing to the wolves, and as such, if we were to trade it for peace, this deal would mean nothing as well. But here,’ he pulled a rusted key from his pocket and tossed it to the floor where it tinked uselessly against the concrete. ‘We brought it nonetheless. This claw is of far more value to us. Countless wolves have died to protect it for generations. Take it as a symbol of our trust.’

Damian cleared his throat and took the box in shaking hands. ‘And your fury, should this pact be broken, no doubt? I see how this would be a more...appropriate gift.’

‘Indeed.’

Jesus. These guys were fucking legit. They were serious. Like, seriously serious. That bag of gofers suddenly felt like a lead weight shackled to Geight’s wrist. If he dropped it there wouldn’t just be a massacre in here, the whole city would be saturated in blood before sunrise. The stakes were sky high. And if he dropped the bag, who’s to say it wouldn’t drag Geight’s limp body down with it, into this powder keg he was flinging matches into? Nah. Fuck this. Let them have their alliance. If there was a chance he could avoid those claws, the sheer unstoppable power that flowed through that artefact and every stinking wolf it’d sired, there was no argument. He was out of here.

Viv took up the conversation. ‘Gotta admit, in all my years a tradin’, I never once saw an ancient claw get passed through the black market, let alone get handed over fa free. Or politics. Same thing, kinda. Either way it’s a hell ofa find.’

‘Vivian,’ tisked Damian. He addressed the wolves. ‘I thank you for your generosity. In exchange, the Camarilla offers an equal use of all of its resources, from the Nosferatu network to a seat at council meetings henceforth. And this,’ he produced a steel box out of nowhere, and flicked it open. Inside was a fat cylindrical block of stone, engravings all around the outside, significantly less impressive than the wolves’ offering. ‘the key to an ancient Vampire relic. And a reminder that our * ahem * less dignified practices are long behind us,’ he handed it over. ‘Shall we call the night a success, and adjourn? I imagine you’d all like to retire, considering,’

As the fuck did Geight. He started sliding back the way he’d come, wondering how he’d manage to drop down each level of vents without alerting the sharp eared wolves. He hauled as gently as he could, an hour’s worth of sweat helping him along, until he felt it. A shifting. He focused his mind, the way you do when you feel something climbing up your leg and have to decide if it’s a spider or a bit of lint. It slumped down his back trailed around the backs of his knees, lumpy and soft, and...

He banged his head against the wall trying to turn around. The vent seemed to shrink around him as he bent, stretched, and strained his body to get turned around, doing so just in time to see the hatch he’d been looking through open, and the bag of gofers empty through it, hovering in the air as if gripped by two invisible hands. The limp bodies flooded out, followed eventually by the light thudding and cracking as they landed among the meeting. There were shouts of confusion. Then of anger.

The pack leader’s voice rose among them, trembling, each syllable rumbling and threatening to fall into a guttural scream. ‘Get out! Run! Both of you! There’s no ti--aaaaaaaaigme!’ A sound like three bears, bigger and badder and more furious than any living creature known to man, roaring and screaming in agony rose up from the warehouse, echoing through the vents. It ricochet’d against the aluminium and rattled in Geight’s ears until they rang as if they too were screaming, and the sound of furniture, cloth, metal and flesh tearing were so close he almost feel the spray of blood against his own face. He clung to himself, watching the space above the vent as it closed, the sack flung carelessly across it. He trembled as a thin silhouette broke through the darkness, a grey blotch against the black. It squatted where Geight had been only a few seconds before, and as its pale face came into view, lacerated by the shadows of the vent, it pressed a finger against its lips, waved, and disappeared into a fine mist, trailing away and leaving only the smell of sulphur behind.

Geight lay in the vents until the roaring passed. It didn’t stop. It just moved until he could no longer hear it. Then he slid back down the vents, and out of the warehouse. He didn’t have to. But he didn’t want to see what’d happened. He already knew. The Anarchs had sent a backup. Someone to finish the job when he couldn’t. Another Tremere, too. That stung.

Geight flung himself over the fence like the garbage he was. He couldn’t go back to the Anarchs, not after what they’d done. He had no doubt, hundreds of Kindred were probably going to die before the night was out. The Camarilla might want him, with what he knew. Maybe. If they were still there tomorrow. For the time being, he just wanted to go home, find a dark spot to hide in, and forget about the sound of claws and teeth and shredding flesh. If he could, just for a little while.

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ruthietownes-blog · 7 years

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Ten Top Threats Of team.

10 Strong Evidences Why team Is Bad For Your Profession Advancement.

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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Dropping off another commission which means okay NOW I only have one to finish. This one is a throwback to that time I was talking Marvel/DC crossover ships, and I said okay but what about Dick/Wanda because yeah, like two of the only Rom heroes in anywhere being a thing would be pretty cool, but also like.

Batfam + Magnetfam holiday dinner gatherings.

Someone agreed, and asked for more along those lines and asked that I not worry about the crack potential but feel free to embrace it instead, citing that Batboys adopted by Zatanna AU I wrote as a tone they’d enjoyed. Their only other requests were they wanted to see if I could include Luna and Crystal in any ways, and that I give Stephanie some time in the spotlight. I warned them that my usual take on Stephanie is ADHD as hell, but that apparently was not a problem, so uh...hang on when it gets to Steph or be prepared for her to leave you in the dust. She doesn’t slow down for stragglers.

There were a ton of characters to juggle in this so not everyone gets the same degree of focus, but I did my best to work everyone relevant to the scenario in as best I could. Also, I don’t actually know where a couple of these particular takes came from - I’ve never ever written Lorna anything remotely like this in my life, but I kinda just let the crack do what it wanted to do. *Shrugs* I have no defense, only oops.

Anyway, without further ado, I give you 15K, yes you heard that right, 15K of crossover crack that puts the Batfamily and the Magnetfamily at the same dinner table, lights the match and then runs for cover.

************************

We enter unobtrusively through the dining room’s lone doorway. Our awkward approach is that of the mockumentary style; our hushed atmosphere is that of taking ourselves very seriously, because if we don’t, who will?

Said dining room’s doorway is perfectly situated so as to allow only one point of entrance and exit. Also: maximum drama while doing so. The architecture of Wayne Manor was designed with a clear set of priorities in mind. We invite you to picture the airs of Downtown Abbey, but as if skewing less towards the egalitarian passive aggressive stylings associated with British High Drama, and more towards the rather more direct passive aggressive stylings of American High Drama.

As an example...where a British soap opera might depict someone dramatically gasping “Why, I never!” and clutching symbolically at their heart in order to convey they’re mere insults away from having a myocardial infarction, an American soap opera might instead depict someone dramatically yelling “Bleep you!” and then vaulting across the table to punch someone in the face in order to convey they’re really quite angry and the only way to fully express that is by starting a feud that will last 72 episodes and only end when one of them is murdered and replaced by their evil twin.

That sort of thing.

We return to unobtrusively entering through the doorway whose very singular purpose in the narrative is as a conveyance that this is the House That Drama Built.

It should be added as an afterthought that only just occurred to us but is no less important because of its poor punctuality: the House That Drama Built also exists as a kind of metaphysical Drama vampire that cultivates an atmosphere of Drama whilst simultaneously feasting on the Drama it creates just to harvest as its crop of choice.

Quite nasty and shiver-inducing, to be sure, but let it serve as a good rule of thumb: Don’t trust centuries old rich people houses. There’s always something messed up about those places. Seriously. You know its true.

Proceeding onward, and despite having explicitly mapped out why its impossible to do so, we nevertheless manage to sidle into prime vantage points without being noticed. Look, we can do stuff like that because we’re magic, okay? Also fictional, and really just a tonal framing device introduced as a thin coat of varnish overlaying everything with the glistening sheen of crack fiction. Now shush and pretend we’re not here, which should be easy because we’re not.

The two family patriarchs, Erik Lehnsherr and Bruce Wayne, each sit at opposing heads of the excessively long dining room table that is almost certainly an indication one of Bruce’s direct ancestors felt a clear and urgent need to overcompensate for something.

Locked in an epic battle of wills that looks remarkably similar to the staring contest perfected by kindergartners everywhere, though that’s undoubtedly just a coincidence,the two titans of temperament face off in a face-off for the ages.

Both steel-faced and with backs so straight the sight would make any right angle weak in the knees, these bastions of brooding are equally infamous for their rigidity and refusal to bend, even when they probably should - because sometimes its a battle over the fate of the world and a fight for the very heart and soul of humanity, yes, absolutely true, but other times their children just asked if they could have pizza tonight instead of meatloaf and it really didn’t need to escalate that quickly, but oh well.

Heedless of the judgment of fictional narrators as well as every person to ever suggest to them that their sphincters might actually benefit from the occasional attempt to unclench, the Master of Magnetism is an irresistible force while channeling the unleashed totality of his willpower through his steady gaze, as fixed and unwavering as the North Star itself. At the same time, his counterpart is an equally immovable object while planted firm and steady in his convictions, the imposing edifice of his impassive expression not likely to be eroded by the mere disdain of another mortal. Not when the Man of Bats has stubbornly stared down gods.

Admittedly, the last one used the opportunity to blast him through time and space instead, but that’s the kind of risk one takes when matching an ageless deity ego for ego. It should not be viewed as an indication as to whom among these two mighty mortals might appear the victor when engaged in similar combat. Especially as neither is in possession of magic eye beams which technically should count as cheating, if you really think about it.

They match each other fractional eye squint for fractional eye squint. Both lost in the intensity of each other’s gaze in a way that regardless of tropes is less enemies to lovers and more enemies to psych, we’re still enemies and if our kids do tie the knot, I’m totally going to insist on hosting the wedding at my big-ass mansion and you can call that a power move if you want because it totally is, what about it?

In response to the challenge that’s conveyed with crystal clarity thanks to the power of crack, Erik’s own gaze narrows fractionally further as he reaches down with his mutant abilities until they chance upon a vein of iron miles deep. He then proceeds to push and pull on it in such a way as to make the earth shift beneath their feet.

He is not subtle about being the cause. That sort of thing isn’t really in his wheelhouse.

However, in the name of defending Erik from his children’s exasperated glares, it should be pointed out here that Bruce did in fact ask, what about it, and Erik did in his own fashion simply indicate what about it indeed.

Well. Sorta.

The initial clash of wills meeting wills subsides and assures both men that their opponent will be no easy pushover. With that, the concrete aspiring contenders retreat once more to their far sides. They proceed to keep eyes locked and faces solemn and still, neither taking their gaze off the other even while eating or responding to some conversation piece directed at them by another denizen of the dining room.

“This is quite the meal, Mr. Pennyworth. You are to be commended,” Erik says sincerely. His face is still as smooth as Lake Placid, with nary a Syfy Original killer crocodile lurking dangerously beneath the surface.

“Yes, truly some of your best work, Alfred, thank you,” Bruce adds completely deadpan, not to be outdone.

Eternally placing his professionalism above all else, Alfred waits until he’s out of the room and halfway to the kitchen before venting an exasperated exhalation of his own.

Of course, Wayne Manor does have excellent acoustics.

Elsewhere along the table’s lengths, Pietro and Damian also keep their stares deadlocked from across each other, never deviating throughout the entirety of their meal. Their detente, however, is more accurately termed an ‘arrogance-off,’ with each refusing to give way before a lesser opponent. If Pietro is remotely bothered that he’s deeply invested in establishing his superiority over a twelve year old, it doesn’t show.

Look, if he starts making allowances for age, where would it end? With him letting toddlers walk all over him simply because they managed not to blink first? Don’t be absurd.

On the other side of Pietro, Jason is gleefully lobbing conversational grenades down the length of the table. Seizing advantage of even the slightest lull, he packs every sparse moment of silence full of yet another philosophical hot take he’s strategically brainstormed to cause maximum conscience carnage.

Each carelessly uttered but carefully aimed moral dilemma-turned-mortar fire is tactically engineered towards setting each and every highly opinionated diner to warring over the higher ground. There are always holdouts of course, those who instead hunker deeper down in their trenches in an attempt to wait out the bombardment without engaging. Persistence has never been something Jay lacks, however, so even the few duds that fail to properly detonate only end up followed by a rapid-fire encore the first chance he has to reload.

Meanwhile, Lorna downs a glass of wine like its a shot of tequila and she’s a veteran of the collegiate drinking experience. Then again, she actually is, even if most tend to forget that. It doesn’t quite lend the same weight to her resume as actual freaking superhero, you’re welcome for the planet’s continued state of existence does, so she doesn’t tend to lead with it.

But that doesn’t mean that even this dubiously termed ‘skill’ lacks a time to shine. One does what one has to in order to make it through family gatherings when the family in question is hers, the mistress of magnetism maintains. Be sure to note both lower case m’s in the script of her full title, because sharing a powerset with her father doesn’t mean she actually has to indulge in silly shows of power with the sole purpose of establishing one’s right to self-brand with fully capitalized letters.

She finds such things exhaustively tedious, as dull as they are droll, and as much as she loves her father, she could really stand to see him embarrass himself less in public, with his ridiculous insistence on those farces.

In his defense, the enemies that flee in terror upon such displays, wetting themselves all the while...well, clearly they’re suitably impressed. But that doesn’t mean Lorna can’t still be embarrassed for him. Honestly, would it really kill him to act his actual age of....

Oh hell. She’s not nearly drunk enough yet to try and make sense of her father’s age.

Full disclosure, and also full awareness that her brother will never fail to bring up her own recorded instances of ridiculous grandstanding whenever its remotely relevant, and most other opportunities as well - yes, those happened, yes, she agrees they were ridiculous and necessary, but she also requests it be on the record that in all such instances she was either very young, very possessed, or very both.

Probably.

Look, the possessed thing happens often enough its not like even she can keep track of it. If she wants to squeeze a few perks out of that particular trend towards things that are obnoxious and unnecessary for five hundred, Alex, she’s damn well entitled.

And why, in the name of all the gods she hasn’t been teammates with and seen drunkenly stumbling around in their underwear at some point, is she picturing her ex Alex’s face when whimsically thinking of the Jeopardy host? Better question, why is she still not drunk enough to not give a shit if she does?

Ugh, if this leads to her having to admit Betsy was right and she’s begun indulging in her family’s tendency towards being excessive about anything and everything that keeps their minds off boringly pedestrian events like a break-up, well. That would really suck.

Mostly because Betsy is unbearable when she’s right about anything.

Driven to extreme measures by the fact that her thoughts are being rude and contentious and mean to her, Lorna trades introspection for the potential hazards of engaging directly with her dinner companions. Risky as that may be. They could be more unbearable than Betsy, for all she knows. And bad things tend to happen when she gives strangers the benefit of the doubt. She usually ends up disappointed, or bored.

Also, possessed.

Girding herself with jaded detachment, Lorna resigns herself to the mortifying ordeal of having to know other people - people who when taking into account her sister’s track record with such matters, could easily turn out to be serial killers or even worse, annoying robots.

Shuddering at the memory of the Pencil Sharpener That Walks Like A Man, she surveys the chaos she’d mistaken for white noise when still busy being her own entertainment. Its slightly livelier than she’d assumed it would be.

Lorna’s never lacked her father’s eye for tactical analysis and strategic scheming, to be clear. Its more that she’s absent his desire to see her molded into any kind of mini-me that could potentially carry on where he leaves off when he dies, as if no interruption has taken place.

But never mind her issues with her father, that she steadfastly refuses to refer to as Daddy issues. Coolly assessing the commotion around her, she decides the only role worth adopting here is that of the official fanner of flames. The only side worth taking is of course the only side ever worth taking: hers, obviously.

She wades in without any warning beyond a green-lipped smile that toes the line between bearing just enough menace to act as a threat, but never so much as to warn people to take sufficient precautions when facing her.

It’s been said that the difference between her and her father is that Magneto causes natural disasters.

Lorna is one.

Wasting no time before establishing herself as an enemy to all and a friend to none, as if she needs any, she sets up shop as a random sequencer with no allegiance or agenda other than making everyone regret insisting on her attendance.

She deftly diverts Jason’s verbal volleys off their intended course with dry, sardonic wit and she wields sly insinuations like a racket with which she redirects grenades of great ethical weight at whomever strikes her fancy. She is whimsy: watch her do whatever the hell she wants. Object, and catch hellfire.

Rather than take offense at her interference, Jason tips his head to her in appreciation of her craft. Like calls to like, after all. Lorna decides in a burst of decisiveness that she likes this one, at least.

She tilts her glass to him with a smirk and refills, topping off Kate Kane’s glass as well when the older woman holds hers out with a look that leapfrogs right over seduction and practically all the way to the morning after. She decides then and there that she likes this one as well. Two for two, look at that. And people say she’s anti-social. Distinctly recalling she’d taken a second look at Kate’s legs before sitting down, and adding in those eyelashes....

Well. Lorna’s never seriously considered taking another woman up on one of these looks before, but it wouldn’t wholly be accurate to claim she’s never thought of sending one to say...Ororo or Betsy a time or two herself.

Or even a little accurate, actually, but that is neither here nor there.

Lorna thinks, though, that if she were to take up this particular woman up on this particular offer on this particular night - there might at some point be explosions.

This is not a dealbreaker.

Look, she didn’t get her degree in geology because she held any particular interest in literally dull as dirt sandstone. Pyroclastic igneous rock formations, on the other hand...now that’s a different matter entirely. Fire pretty. Batwoman pretty.

Okay, she might be a little tipsy at this point. She looks at her wine glass accusingly; she shouldn’t have to find these things out on her own. It neither confirms nor denies.

Bitch.

Still further down the table, Dick's usual charming composure has been knocked out and left tied up in a coat closet somewhere. With the anthropomorphic embodiment of the emotion Frazzled then stepping in to take his place, and not at all very obviously acting out of sorts, if the amused but completely unhelpful smirks of his siblings are anything to go by.

The Dick-shaped entity seated in his place makes occasional token attempts to direct the flow of conversation like the maestro he’s usually known to be in such settings. In this particular setting and time, however, he mostly just manages to exist as a sentient display of the condition or state of being I Have Regrets.

His attention flits from one person to the next as he periodically tries to distract everybody from plotting the murders of everyone else at the table. Or covering up the murder of someone else, as committed by one of their family members. Or from plotting to frame someone else at the table for murder. Or from broadcasting that they’d absolutely get to the bottom of any frame job and prove their relative’s innocence and see the real culprit behind bars.

Also, he may or may not have to every so often stop and distract himself from plotting murders of his own.

Dick lands briefly on Jason every now and again with an “I know what you’re doing and would greatly appreciate it if you’d stop” glare.

Its met each time by his little brother’s “I have no idea what you’re talking about, this is just how I partake in family gatherings, isn’t that what you want or should I just go home” mask of blatantly transparent faux-innocence.

Jay’s expressions are practically close captioned, that’s how far he is from even attempting to bother with the whole thing.

Dick returns fire with a narrowing of the eyebrows that screams: “I’ll get you for this, and your little dog too.”

Jason’s lip only upticks at one corner, his otherwise studied indifference sending back his crystal clear response: “Bitch, I died. What’re you gonna to do, threaten to go a week without trying to ambush me with hugs?”

Dick’s jaw shifts like a tectonic plate movement, teeth grinding as he holds the glare. “You’re the worst.”

Jason beams and tilts his head, eyes drifting upwards in silent contemplation, as if to say, “Well, we all aspire to great heights in our own unique ways.”

“Allow me to congratulate you on your successful achievements then.” Dick’s now puckered expression fires barbs from a blowgun.

“If you really cared, you’d show me with a trophy. What’s a guy gotta do to get his brother to try and buy his love and affection,” said little brother lofts at him by way of an obnoxiously exaggerated batting of his eyelashes.

Next to Dick, Wanda has her elbow on the table, propping up her head in one hand as she lazily pokes at her food with her fork. She’s not even trying to hide how much she regrets every decision that led to this. She likes Dick, quite a lot, but clearly, neither of their families are fit for conjoined festivities. Lesson learned.

Duke is shoving dinner roll after dinner roll into his mouth, as if afraid to risk missing out on anything by attempting more focus-intensive food handling than that. His eyes are feverishly bright as they dart from one length of the table to the other and back again. This is the best day ever.

Tim and Cass are seated side by side and occasionally dip their heads together in hushed conversation. At other times they flick their fingers at each other in sign language just below the surface of the table.

Periodically, Tim will then wade into one conversation or another, never staying focused for long on any one single conversation partner before moving on.

If one were to view this whole....event...as an exercise in conversational warfare, one might be tempted to view Tim’s patterns of discussion as somewhat akin to guerilla warfare. Brief engagements not aimed at achieving any kind of victory so much as feeling out the oppositions’ defenses and tactics before withdrawing to form more firmed out plans based off the gathered intel.

Dick closes his eyes and sighs as he sees Tim and Cass dip their heads together again. Right after Cass’ eagle-eyed gaze spent a few moments lingering on the wake of Tim’s latest ‘tactical retreat,’ which was plenty of time for their sister to soak in a fair amount of everyone's reactions and responses.

Dick coughs into his hand. When Tim looks his way and meets Dick’s stern gaze with an inquiring eyebrow, Dick reaches a hand to the side of his head as if to smooth back a lock of hair. Instead he then signs with grimly dancing fingers, “Please tell me you and Cass aren’t using a holiday dinner together as a chance to develop contingency plans for taking down members of my girlfriend’s family.”

Tim cocks his head slightly and frowns. The only indication that his fingers are once again busy at work beneath the table is the slight ripple of movement along his upper arms. A few moments later, Dick’s phone vibrates with a notification. He slides it into his lap and reads Tim’s text.

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you just said. I don’t speak ASL.”

Dick tilts his own head and fires an unimpressed look across the table. “Seriously?”

Cassandra pokes Tim in the side, sending him an inquiring look of her own. No doubt curious what he’d texted Dick to elicit such a response. Tim grins and answers her in swift, practiced gestures the little twerp makes no attempt to hide this time. Blatant ASL, just one of the several different sign languages they were all fluent in. Cass raises a hand to her face and hides her giggle behind the back of it, just as Tim finishes. Dick darts his sour face at her, texting her phone in turn.

“Et tu, Cass?”

She glances down at her own phone and then just shrugs at him, utterly unrepentant. Dick pinches the bridge of his nose. Okay then.

Pietro’s daughter Luna had long since retreated to one of the Wayne family dens to watch movies, citing a headache. No one doubted that the precocious young empath was just entirely uninterested in being in the vicinity of all their entangled and extremely loud emotions.

Her father had briefly attempted to impress upon her the importance of being present with the rest of them for at least some of the dinner. His daughter had simply met his token effort at imparting politeness protocols with a pointed look first at him and then at Damian, who was at most two years older than her.

Pietro had grimaced. In an ideal world, caving to her demands would not be easier than him just conducting himself like a mature adult for the duration of a single dinner gathering. But then, none of them came from an ideal world, and he suffered no illusions about being an ideal parent. And more importantly, in the grand scheme of things it was hardly like this was one of the really important battles, the ones that needed to be picked carefully.

That was his excuse and he was sticking to it. And thus Luna had been excused to entertain herself with the Waynes’ vast video library.

Wanda’s twin sons thus far seem content to keep themselves busy with their own back-and-forth in the private ‘twin language’ they’d crafted over the years - more due to cheating than the existence of some preternatural twin understanding of each other. Neither boy pretends to have a clue how the other’s mind works.

Essentially, Tommy just talks to his brother at full superspeed, while Billy has a spell in place that allows him to keep up and understand his twin no matter what speed his ramblings take. No one seems entirely sure what mechanism they have for Billy to speak back to Tommy in a way no one else ever picks up on, or even if such a mechanism exists at all. It's entirely possible that due to the nature of their dynamic, they’d never found creating one to be at all necessary.

That isn’t to suggest that Billy is a follower in temperament or by nature. Its more just that when dealing with Tommy, one either follows (or tries to play catch up slash does damage control) or else one waits until Tommy races off to do what he wants, for however long it takes for him to eventually figure out that nobody has followed or is even going to. Then finally racing back and submitting to following someone else’s lead, sulking all the while about how nobody ever listens to him about anything.

Basically, letting Tommy take the lead in the more low-stakes engagements is just being efficient, in Billy’s opinion. The alternative takes way too long and his twin is a pain to deal with when in a heightened state of Sulk.

However, as to just how low-stakes or not this dinner actually is, well, that seems to be a matter of some debate between the twins, and not something Billy himself has even settled his opinion on.

Frequent high-pitched squeaks occasionally sound out from their corner of the table, most too quick to even register for anyone other than their uncle Pietro, who currently is still preoccupied with his extended staring contest against his diminutive rival in all things pertaining to ego and attempted sovereignty

If anyone else were even to register their existence or frequency, the combination of squeaks and Tommy’s repeated glares at his brother might lead to the conclusion that Billy is repeatedly poking or jabbing his twin in order to rein Tommy in from leaping into some fray or another and escalating the already existing tension to biblical proportions. As is his wont.

And Billy, at least, is enjoying his meal.

Well, he’s trying to, anyway.

But the closer he gets to completely clearing his plate, the more frequent Billy’s longing glances in the direction Luna had vanished become. Clearly, the teen is debating the merits of faking some ailment of his own and following his cousin’s example all the way to blessed, blessed relief from the chore of being the only one capable of saying “Tommy no” and actually producing an end result that isn’t just an accelerated timetable.

It’s not hard to tell when Billy’s inner war of his self-preserving tendencies vs his self-sacrificing tendencies is ultimately decided with a final score of Sanity: 1, Pointless and Unappreciated Gestures of Nobility: 0.

The seventeen year old sighs loudly and slumps back against his chair, his entire demeanor broadcasting an aura of “I give up” on so many clear wavelengths, it interrupts every skirmish currently in progress and results in every adult at the table sending concerned looks towards the twins’ corner of it.

Billy’s crossed arms and the empty space his gaze is determinedly fixed on combine to clearly convey he has nothing to do with whatever has happened or is about to happen.

Leading to every scrap of attention thus trekking further down the table to his twin, where Tommy is beaming with the brightness of a thousand supergiant stars about to go supernova and make a mess that will span galaxies and last for ten thousand years.

His Aunt Lorna’s own penchant for pretty explosions and fireworks has nothing on his, other than seniority.

Tommy’s own family knows that gleam in his eyes well enough to be aware their own immediate reactions should be duck and cover. Unfortunately, the Waynes’ dining room affords few actual defensive positions, all of which are already occupied by members of the Family Batshit. Resigning themselves to the inevitable, the Family Maximumoff Damage brace for impact.

Not being familiar with the gleam in Tommy’s eyes themselves, but more than observant (and paranoid) enough to recognize the braced positions of the other family and adapt accordingly, the members of the Family Batshit are all quick to follow suit.

Wanda meanwhile takes the scant seconds before collision to close her eyes and try to recall why she ever wanted children so desperately she literally wished them into existence.

She’s got nothing.

Dick uses the same time to gulp and take a deep breath, frantically trying to fortify himself with everything he knows of Wanda’s more....mayhem-inclined child. Hopefully he can use that intel to prepare contingencies for whatever fallout may follow in the next few seconds.

Ever the optimist, that one.

Into a silence stretching longer than a speedster in the spotlight has ever before allowed silence to linger - with Tommy clearly savoring the focused attention and abundant awareness of his Impact™ and reputation - the silver-haired teen grins with teeth bright enough to ignite the ensuing firestorm all on their own. The fateful words he finally utters almost seem overkill. At least until he finishes saying them and everything else ceases to matter, because boom.

Ignition.

“Hey Dick, if you end up marrying our mom, does that mean we can call you Dad?”

The silence that follows that particular detonation is akin to the death-knell of the dinosaurs, in the moments immediately after a giant asteroid wiped out 80% of life on the planet.

Then: anarchy.

“How dare you!” Damian launches himself out of his seat with what would normally be described as a hiss, were it not uttered at a decibel closer to being an actual sonic boom.

Jason looks like he can’t decide if he wants to fall to the ground laughing or fall to the ground tucking and rolling. To avoid having to make a decision, he grabs his until now untouched wine and guzzles it like a man who just found the only oasis in a hundred mile wide desert.

Lorna uncorks another bottle of wine and raises the whole thing like she’s toasting existence itself, on her way out the mortal coil’s exit-marked door. Kate thrusts her glass in front of Lorna for another refill.

“I know many lesbians can and do have kids in any number of ways, but do you think its okay if I cite this as proof we’re the highest evolved life form and if I was meant to have kids of my own, God wouldn’t have given me such an obvious hint as to the opposite?”

Kate absently muses to Lorna under her breath and out of the corner of her mouth, both of them still fixed on viewing the various diners turned statue-still by the Medusa like turn of the table’s conversations.

“It feels like that’s one of those things people tell me I should keep in my head and just gets me in trouble when I decide to share it instead, but honestly, I can never tell.”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Lorna whispers back. “I get possessed by this one psychic ghost enough that one of the few perks is I don’t have to worry about ticking people off anymore. Nowadays if I piss someone off, all I have to do is wait a couple of days and then say I was possessed again at the time. Then I just ask why the hell did nobody notice and dramatically make a lot of noise about that until everybody forgets what the hell they were even ticked at me for in the first place.”

“Ugh. Lucky bitch.”

Lorna shrugs with the faintest of smirks. “It’s all about just working with what you’ve got.”

Elsewhere at the table, Duke is frozen with his mouth still stuffed so full his cheeks are puffed out like a cartoon chipmunk’s. The only movements coming from his direction at all are the twin orbs that are his eyes, currently imitating tennis balls being rocketed back and forth across the court by pro players who never miss a swing.

Tim and Cass are clutching each others’ forearms, the closest either has come to displaying a panic reaction in literal years. In Cassandra’s case, more like in her entire lifetime.

But the title of ultimate attention draw is for the moment a dubious honor bestowed upon the Wayne patriarch himself.

Bruce leaps from his seat like an Olympic sprinter off the starting block, managing to catch up to his youngest before Damian plus Damian’s butter knife make it more than a foot towards Tommy. He snatches the twelve year old up by his waist, smoothly disarming his son and spinning around to plant himself between the boy and his target with the practiced and precise moves of the bedlam ballerina that he is.

“Umm,” Dick utters at last. His eyes fly wildly around the room as if seeking permission to land. They settle on making repeated loops of a race track that runs from Tommy’s smile of success to Damian’s enraged expression, and then to his own father’s attempt at a poker face: normally flawless, but now only warranting such acclaim if Bruce’s intention actually was to mimick the poker face of someone steadily ingesting lemons and nothing else throughout the course of a game.

Its not Dick’s finest work, obviously, but to be fair he’s also quite busy,trying to will himself through the floor. Possibly the Earth’s core while he’s at it. Results are still pending.

Meanwhile, unnoticed by the inhabitants of the dining room, Pietro’s ex Crystal has arrived as previously agreed, so she can pick up Luna and their daughter can spend the back half of the holiday with her mother and the latter’s teammates.

They were on their way to the dining room so Luna could say her goodbyes to her father, aunts, cousins and grandfather, when the current chaos had erupted.

Her own heroic impulses instinctively compelling her to charge in and attempt to help, Crystal’s tugged back by her daughter’s hand in hers. Knowing full well that Luna’s empathy-fueled instincts are superior to just about anyone else’s, Crystal halts and takes in the scene before them again, still with caution but with slightly less urgency.

“I suppose you have some idea what’s going on in there?”

Luna just smiles softly at her mother, as if shyly amused by the situation they’re witnessing.

“Did you hear how just when we were coming down the hall, Tommy said something about calling Wanda’s boyfriend ‘Dad’ if they get married?”

Crystal furrows her brow and nods; she hadn’t been paying that much attention, but one didn’t engage in superheroics (let alone marry and live with a hyper-active speedster) if one had poor situational awareness. Well one did, theoretically, but in such instances, one usually just died before gaining any kind of reputation or relevance.

“Well see, that set off Damian, Mr. Wayne’s youngest son and Dick’s baby brother - he was the one shouting ‘How dare you’ - “

“Don’t tell me this family has some kind of superiority complex about the twins or Wanda not being good enough for one of their own,” Crystal interrupted. The air around them crisped and heated even as a stray wind arose inside the manor and teased the ends of her hair into furious activity.

She and Pietro might not be together anymore, but her fondness for him and certain other members of his family hadn’t ceased to exist simply because their marriage no longer did. Wanda had been her friend for years before she and Pietro even began to date, and her twins were still Luna’s cousins. All of which made them still family as far as Crystal was concerned.

And she’d certainly put up with enough of her own family’s nonsense about nobody being good enough for one of them...more than she should have, to be honest, even if that was still ultimately the reason she’d cut ties with them and made her teammates her and her daughter’s true family. Crystal wasn’t about to stand idly by while strangers subjected her daughter’s cousins and aunt to more of that bullshit, even if they were hugely respected heroes of this universe’s Earth.

But Luna just shakes her head swiftly and decisively, and Crystal forces her metaphorical hackles to subside at her daughter’s apparent lack of concern.

“No, its nothing like that. Well, Damian’s kind of a brat sometimes, but it feels like he only acts out like that when he doesn’t have instincts about how to react to a given situation and he’s embarrassed about that. He had some kind of messed up childhood none of them like to talk about too much. But honestly, he feels more jealous right now than he does anything else. Aunt Wanda gave us all a rundown before we got here, about Dick’s family and things to not ask them about or bring up, and what kind of stuff they’d been told about us for similar reasons. Anyway, she told us Damian didn’t even live with their family until a few years ago, and when he first came to live with them there was a year when Mr. Wayne was missing and most of them thought he was dead....and so Dick was basically Damian’s first real kinda dad even before Mr. Wayne got a chance to be, and even though he’s been the one raising Damian ever since he got back, it sounded like there’s a lot of mixed feelings and confusion and tension between him, Mr. Wayne and Dick ever since.”

“And of course your cousin just couldn’t resist poking the elephant in the room, once he’d been made aware of its existence, if only to see what would happen,” Crystal sighs. That boy....

Not for the first time when around her ex’s family, she finds herself reminded to be grateful for the relationship she and her daughter share, mostly due to her daughter’s willingness to be understanding of others’ flaws, her own included. Crystal makes sure to will forth a wish for fortitude in Wanda’s direction while she’s at it. Couldn’t hurt.

And of course, speaking of Luna’s ability to be understanding....

“Tommy was just trying to have a little fun, he honestly didn’t mean any harm by it,” her daughter defends the cousin in question. “I know he didn’t really have any idea how much of a reaction he’d get, and just how deep and strongly they had about this. And I know it probably sounds like I’m just trying to make excuses for Tommy to keep him out of trouble, but maybe this is a good thing, that he made this happen? Because I can tell they definitely don’t talk a lot about these things or let them out in the open instead of trying to shove them down all the time. So Damian feels jealous, probably because he still has feelings of seeing Dick as a father that he feels he can’t act on because he doesn’t want to upset their actual dad or cause fights between them.”

"And I can feel Mr. Wayne feels jealous too, but of how Damian feels and the fact that he acted on what was so clearly jealousy to everyone else, but also he’s upset at himself, probably because he thinks its not right for him to feel jealous towards his own son and specifically because he and his brother have such a strong relationship and Dick did such a good job taking care of him when Mr. Wayne couldn’t. And then Dick feels guilty but also a little upset at himself as well, maybe because he knows he has nothing to feel guilty for? I’m not sure about that part, I haven’t totally gotten a feel for their usual emotional dynamics. But also he feels jealous too, and of Mr. Wayne, most likely because he gets to be Damian’s father and on some level Dick wishes that was still him occupying that role.”

“Maybe you should be explaining all of this to them instead of me,” Crystal concludes when her daughter finishes her run-through in a rush of hastily accelerated words. Luna is leaning to the side, as if trying to be subtle about craning to look around her at the drama on the other side.

“I will if they ask me to,” her daughter says, now sounding somewhat defensive of herself. “I don’t think they would have liked it much if I just tried to talk to them about all their feelings that they refuse to acknowledge or act upon, even just with each other in private.”

“Hmm,” Crystal just hums thoughtfully. Luna rushes to present the rest of her case, though Crystal still lacks a clear picture of just what the specific endgame is that her little schemer simply can’t resist trying to nudge things towards.

“Besides, like I said, maybe this was a good thing, Tommy got it out in the open where now they have to talk about it with each other, since its pretty undeniable to everyone. I mean everyone else in their family definitely feels kinda satisfied I think? No, vindicated. That’s it. I think they’ll be fine on their own. They all definitely love each other and if anything, the jealous feelings are all just from loving each other more than they feel they should or have a right to, because they don’t want to make one of their other family question whether they love them too. None of them have done anything bad or wants anything bad, they just need to talk it through.”

“Well that’s all good to hear, but it still sounds to me like there’s no real reason for us not to interrupt, and every possibility it might defuse some tension and give them all a little time to cool down before talking about things.” Crystal crosses her arms and looks down at Luna knowingly.

She might be the best daughter Crystal could have ever wished for, and light years more mature than anyone else her age, but she’s still only ten and every ten year old has room for more maturing.

Sure enough, her daughter squirms guiltily.

“I guess. But I still think its better to let things just happen on their own. You’re always telling me that my power isn’t permission to insert myself into the problems of everyone I meet. And that assuming otherwise can be bad for me too.”

“That’s true,” Crystal nods. All the same, her left eyebrow starts to climb. “However, another truth I’ve heard told to you by your father is if you ever feel guilty and are put on the spot for something, have two truths and a lie ready to explain yourself. And always lead with the lie.”

She loves Pietro still, she does, and she's at times even painfully aware of just how much she always will. But their vastly different ideas about parenting were just one of the reasons they hadn’t been able to make things work. She vividly recalls the time she’s referring to...and the argument she and her husband had immediately following it.

Pietro’s stance had always been that children were just little versions of who they’d grow up to be, and didn’t need to be taught dumbed down versions of the advice no one would a problem giving to the grown up versions of them.

“I see nothing inappropriate in teaching her that,” Pietro had said stubbornly at the time. “I do the same thing all the time and I’ve never attempted to pretend otherwise. In fact, I clearly remember explicitly describing that as my life philosophy on one of our earlier dates, and if I recall correctly, you laughed and called me a charming knave at the time. And I am of course remembering it correctly, as I have perfect recall listed among my numerous attributes.”

They never did reach an understanding about that particular bit of parenting. Probably because that argument had ended up seguing into the make-up sex that had kept them married far longer than they probably should have been.

Not that the latter detail is of any relevance at the moment. She coughs awkwardly.

In the here and now, their daughter continues to fidget beneath her mother’s now imperious gaze and newfound resolution to not allow her semi-fond nostalgia to cause her emotions to waver.

“Fine!” Luna groans at last, throwing up her hands in as explosive manner as the usually contemplative girl ever does anything. “I also don’t want to interrupt or go yet because I still have some of the popcorn Mr. Alfred made me and its really good and also if you had to have dinner with some of the most tense and repressed people on two different Earths, and feel everything they were trying to pretend they didn’t feel, you would want to at least get to enjoy the part where they finally stop doing that and get all dramatic and dumb. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Crystal says primly, fighting a smile at her daughter’s rare display of immaturity before remembering who she was talking to and ceasing to bother with the pretense. Besides, its not like she doesn’t have a point.

“But I believe we’ve also talked about people not being your personal entertainment,” she adds. It just feels like the kind of moment where she's supposed to say something along those lines. Even half-heartedly.

“But is it really my fault if people are being entertaining through no fault of my own, and I just happen to be nearby and have every right to just stay put until being right where I am stops being entertaining?” Her daughter counters.

The glint in her eye and the wry smile that says she knows she’s scented a moment of weakness and has no shame about pouncing on it - those are wholly among Pietro’s contribution to their child, and not anything Crystal can truly fault him for, at the end of the day. He is who he is, and part of that is who their daughter is, just as much as she is part of Crystal. She sighs and relents.

“If one of the Waynes catches us treating their conflict like a reality show and feels the slightest upset about it, it is your responsibility to either justify yourself to them too, or acknowledge responsibility for their upset. Whichever it takes to reverse the negativity you contributed. Understood?”

"Promise,” Luna says, bobbing her head repeatedly as she holds forth her hands, unprompted, to demonstrate that she has no fingers crossed as she did so. A follow up that has been normalized for years, given that crossing fingers behind one’s back is another one of the bits of parental wisdom Pietro had imparted upon their precocious daughter when she was younger.

Crystal just sighs once more and shakes her head fondly as she steps to the side and provides an unobstructed view through the open doorway across the room.

Back in the dining room, heedless of having garnered spectators to their spectacle, as well as equally heedless of the passage of time, the room’s inhabitants exist in a state of suspended animation.

Everyone knows a reaction to what just happened is required. That the pregnant pause persisting since then demands a clear follow up to the blatant display of certain emotions from certain parties. All of whom are usually quite certain they’d rather witness the end of the world than see those specific feelings slip out into the open where anyone could see them and from that, draw certain conclusions.

Nobody is confused on that front. Not even their guests from an entirely separate universe.

But the unthinkable has happened nevertheless, and as it has been neither preceded nor succeeded by any hint of an apocalypse, there is no alternative. The naked display of previously avoided topics can not in any way be avoided at this point. What was done was done and now things have to be said or done as a result.

The problem lies in the fact that not a single person present has the faintest idea of what those specific things were. And thus no one seems interested in showing any initiative in ending the stalemate that has been forged from the uncommon uncertainty that was their only commonality.

The rise and fall of chests are the only movements betraying that the tableau they set exists in all three dimensions, rather as a static snapshot someone had taken in commemoration.

And even breathing seems done reluctantly.

If cosmic entities such as Uatu the Watcher were prone to hyperbole, as the only other witnesses to the unprecedented anomaly, they might narrate that for a time it seems as though two of the most powerful and influential families of two different universes are fated to spend the rest of eternity existing in this rare moment. This endless moment where some of the most reckless, impulsive, tactical, analytical, insightful and decisive heroes to ever exist on two separate Earths......are all equally stricken with indecision and uncertainty as to what course of action to take next.

Who could even imagine what kind of consequences that might result in, for two entirely different multiverses? What deviations from intricately plotted grand designs that could cause, what opportunities might be missed, from the most potentially fortunate events that otherwise might stem from these various heroes’ heroics?

How far might the ripple effects of this seemingly innocuous moment in space and time reach? How many worlds might rise and fall, universes live and die, all because this one singular family, this comparatively tiny collection of dissonant souls who regardless of their frequent discord still manage to come together in harmony often enough to chart the course of cosmic events....

These unlikely conductors who at separate times are both the voices of the people, and the music of the spheres themselves? Their choices often doing more to directly affect various celestial bodies than the choices of entire civilizations added up across countless millennia?

Regardless of the degree of potential calamity, that remains a fate both universes will be spared their discovery of. For in this hour of need, where some of the prime movers and shakers of worlds sit motionless whilst hardly daring to breathe, all mutually frozen in their seats, all seemingly powerless to act or speak until someone releases them from this spell that has been cast upon the room and all within it....

Well, unto this unlikely conundrum, there arises an unlikely hero.

Not the hero anyone present deserves, perhaps, but certainly the hero they need.

And so it is that with great daring - and dare we say, even panache - a voice rings out loud and clear. One overflowing with bountiful mirth and a zest and zeal for life. Not to mention one brimming with reckless disregard for any potential consequences, even those not very dissimilar to the kind that have in years past made even the hardiest villains quail in fear...

And all at the same time, all undeniable, all contributing to the sudden spasm that erupts along the fault line that is Bruce Wayne’s entire face - that treacherous, forbidding chasm that exists at the edges of the two tectonic masses that are on one side his disapproval, and on the other side, the muscles that control his expressions...

Into that momentous stillness lands the only response truly appropriate, given the root cause of all of this.

“Awkwaaaaaaard,” Stephanie Brown sings out, half standing out of her chair to stretch across the table in front of Wanda and Duke in order to retrieve the gravy boat. She returns to her seated position and proceeds to slather her mashed potatoes with its contents, blithely paying no attention to the fact that all other faces in the room have swiveled to face her with stunned disbelief. “Seriously, I haven’t felt this uncomfortable since I farted in front of Superman.”

“When did you even get here?” Bruce frowns at her, exasperated enough that Damian is able to use his distraction to slip free of him and slink back to his own seat.

No one else has ever managed to achieve the depths of distraction Stephanie and Stephanie alone can push the usually unflappable Bat to. Or is it heights, and the joys of alliteration might need to be sacrificed upon the altar of accuracy? Whatever.

She pretty much considers it her superpower, though. She's still working out how to weaponize it for use on other targets. Or even better, how to capitalize on it for use when living Whilst Reluctantly Capitalist. Currently, she’s testing market research along the veins of blackmailing Bruce into paying her a monthly allowance in exchange for her keeping her levels of Intentionally Irritating him to below a Level Four on a ten point scale. Its her own custom model in the fashion of the ‘rate the pain with a number from one to ten’ scale, but she’s taken the liberty of specifically tailoring it to Bruce’s condition of Suffering Stephanie the Supreme’s Presence. She's pretty sure she’d ultimately settled on the title: “How much is my chewing gum while I’m supposed to be being sneaky causing you actual physical pain?”

There’s an itty bitty chance she actually picked something totally else on account of how she’d been super drunk at the time and she’s crap at reading her own handwriting so deciphering the notes she’d made while especially inspired were like....seventy percent guesswork.

But close enough, anyway, and also like, shut up and stuff. Wait. But is that really considered blackmail, technically speaking, or is it more like bribery? Not that it really makes a difference, but she does prefer being as precise as possible when listing her crimes slash achievements. It’s like. The principle. Or maybe the aesthetic? Whatever.

Really, though, this is just her and the Big Guy’s thing. Its just what they do. Their dynamo depiction of a duo doing things after their first take on being a Dynamic Duo detonated so disastrously. Yeah, she could never bear to part with her precious alliteration merely for the sake of precision. Its important to have clear priorities after all, and if it for whatever reason that probably will involve fifth dimensional imps, like, some nefarious ne’er-do-well demands she make a choice between alliteration and precision, well, she’s as of right now making an official ruling on which darling she’d kill first.

Sorry, precision, but you just haven’t done for me lately what alliteration has brought me in joy and also usefulness.

“Wait, my bad,” she realizes suddenly, on account of how everyone is staring at her when all she’s doing currently is stuffing her face like a pro. And as hype as she is on her ability to make anything she does look like a Feat™, she’s pretty sure she doesn’t make it look that good. “What was the question again?”

Bruce faces her fully, arms crossed in an attempt to restore himself and his dominion to some semblance of its usual order, his face schooled back in his usual Mona Lisa smile aka stone cold impassivity. Which nobody here was buying, for the record. Big faker.

“How long have you been here?” Asks Stone Cold Steve Austin, wait no, the Stone Cold Steve Faker. Faker Austin? Ugh, this is gonna bug her.

Also, nobody here is buying his voice as being Forbidding right now so much as just Deeply Embarrassed Because I Had Feelings And They Distracted Me. Honestly, she should start keeping a tally. For what, she’s not sure, but you never know what might come in handy some day. There’s a whole TV show about hoarders to back her up on that supposition. See? Science, suckers.

“I dunno. Since way before dinner even started though. Dude, I’m literally on my thirds.”

As if making a show of evidence, Steph shovels more meat in her mouth. She’s not entirely sure what they're even having, like it could be veal or lamb or turkey for all she knows - look, she never got around to mastering “How To Solve the Mystery of Mystery Meat” or whatever. She’d been busy learning how to tell the difference in blood spatters, because like, meat may be murder sometimes but murder is always murder and thus takes priority. Soooorry.

Point is, who knows what the fuck kind of meat it is, but its damn good and just further proof that Alfred is probably secretly God in disguise or maybe just a lower case g kinda one, but whichever, he and his culinary arts are definitely proof she’s too weak to ever walk the Way of the Vegan.

She finishes chewing fully before continuing. Because she’s a proper lady, obvy.

“And way to make with the Rudeness, B. I know I can pull off pretty much any look, but Fly On The Wall is not one of them. How dare you come for my self-esteem like this. I’ll sue you and get all your billions and use them to make a swimming pool of gold coins all Scrooge McDuck style, because its like, the one thing you could never and thus the perfect way to establish my dominance and stuff.”

“Has she seriously been here this whole time?” One of Dick’s girlfriend’s twin kids stage-whispers from the other length of the table. “How did we not notice before? Not exactly flying under the radar there.”

“I’m a goddamn social chameleon, that’s how, Cloud.” Stephanie jabs another meat-laden forkful in his direction for emphasis, on its way to her food hole. Ugh, bliss. “Also, I would be like, a kick-ass spy. But nobody ever gives me the spy jobs because everyone’s always like, you can’t be quiet or still or even serious for longer than five minutes, Stephanie, and I’m always like, umm, just because I choose not to doesn’t mean I can’t, but do they ever listen? Of course not.”

The kid wrinkles his nose at her. “Why did you call me Cloud?”

“Isn’t that the name of the Final Fantasy guy whose hair you ripped off?”

“Is it? I don’t know, I’ve never played. And maybe he ripped me off, you don’t know,” Not-Cloud says, looking suddenly intrigued, though who knows by which part.

Stephanie swivels towards Tim for confirmation. He looks back, vaguely irritated.

“Why does everyone always look at me for stuff like that? I have no idea. When exactly would I have time to be a gamer in the first place? And for the record, back when I had actual hobbies, I used to skateboard.”

“Jeez, sorry, Tony Hawk. I didn’t recogize you cuz I was too busy giving you mad props for that sick wicked half pipe ollie oopsie.” Steph rolls her eyes. Then she cocks her head to scrutinize him more fully and maybe give him a serious answer. She settles for flapping a hand at him vaguely as she says, “And you just have like, a certain Quality about you or whatever. I don’t know what it is.”

“She doesn’t even live here,” Bruce says, almost plaintively. Y’know. If he were someone who does anything plaintively ever.

“She’s our guest,” Cass says, almost primly. Y’know. If she were someone who does anything primly ever. “You’re being rude.”

Steph plasters on her most injured expression, the better to make like Exhibit A when Cass sweeps an arm towards her for demonstration.

Also though, oh shit, oh shit, look whose internal monologue stumble-stepped into a motif. She’s Emily Dickenson-ing this place up tonight. Finally, someone bringing a little class into the House of Ass. You’re welcome, all the ghosts of Bruce’s equally gloomy ancestors who definitely haunt this place on the regular.

“Yeah, Alfred has always impressed upon us that there are certain protocols for how we’re supposed to treat guests in our home, Bruce,” Tim adds in a tone that was equal parts thoughtful musing and suppressed merriment.

He slides a smirk down the table to Steph. His own irritation of 7.5 seconds prior has completely evaporated into the ether, because that’s just how they roll. Look at them, making with the maturity like they’re just a couple of motherfucking bosses. She’s seriously so impressed with the both of them on their own behalves.

“If I were a betting man,” Tim continues nonchalantly, “I’d put down money that hanging on to guest privileges is one of the main reasons she turned down that adoption offer we all pretend we don’t know B’s definitely given her at some point.”

“Or maybe that’s just what you tell yourself, being the one whose dating history with Steph makes adopted siblinghood seem weird and icky and stuff,” Duke suggests from further down the table. He smirks, lounging in a way that looks lazy and careless to those uninitiated in the sacred Bat arts of being anal about everything at all times, like literally even when just looking at things. Because B-Man’s secret superpower is how to make anything boring, even things that are literally just using your eyes.

Though in defense of B but also like, the years of their lives they’ve all committed to obsessively training themselves according to his fucking anal doctrines anyway, like a bunch of absolute suckers, there is an upside to all that anal retention. Such as how people who make healthy but boring life choices would look at Duke right now and be like oh shit, that kid’s about two seconds from falling asleep like he’s a cat and that’s a super inconvenient place for him to fall asleep, which everyone knows is basically the same thing as Kitty Nirvana.

But meanwhile, the other teen still clearly shows all the checked boxes that spell out hey this dude could be ready to kick your ass in 2.5 seconds, like just give him a reason punk, he’s ready to go. Or at least, that’s how he registers to those of them with Bat-supersenses that aren’t actually super but really just the end result of lots of boring training exercises that honestly don’t sound anywhere near as cool so just let them have this.

Point is she totally lost track of her point, but then Duke follows up with an accusing pointer finger aimed at Tim, one appropriately dramatic and just like, making her so gosh darn proud of the latest castaway to wash ashore on their weird ass little Island Of Misfit Toys. Kids. They grow up so fast.

“Of course you wanna distract everyone from how you’re a Sister Depriver,” Duke intones, putting some super thematic bass into his boom. That right there, that little something extra...that’s how you make fucking art. Hot damn. “And as a result, poor Cass has to bear the weight of being the only girl in the Wayne clan all by herself. For shame, Timothy.”

“Yeah, Timothy,” Cass echoes smugly. “For shame.”

Tim shoots betrayed eyes at her, but its his own fault for forgetting the Cardinal Rule Of Cass: her allegiances are fickle and prone to shifting in the direction of greatest potential drama. Cass loves drama. Lives for it. Something about how refreshing it is to be able to immerse herself in the movements of people who are actively trying to speak or act in contradiction to what their body really wants to say, instead of just being lying douchebags who necessitate caution when they do anything similar.

The rest of them are split 50/50 as to whether that’s true and heartwrenching, or whether its well-played Cass bullshit aimed at distracting them from what a gossip-loving drama queen she really is.

“Whatever,” Jason says dismissively as he chimes in. He swipes the last few exchanges out of the way like they’re open apps he’s not using at the moment and he’s all uh, you can go now, losers. “The real issue here is that obviously the Old Man has never figured out how to interact with a teenager or young adult he hasn’t adopted or can’t adopt. Middle D over there is proof that even B’s vaunted no meta rule isn’t really a dealbreaker, so betcha the real reason Dickie and Tim’s Titan friends never come over is because their parentals are worried about B trying to snatch them up too. And since B adopts, fosters or otherwise absorbs via osmosis every other kid or teen he comes across, there’s never been a control group for him to practice his non-adoption-intending behavior on other kids. And no practice means no way of being perfect at that, and we all know how not being perfect at something makes B cranky as fuck.”

Duke takes a beat to contort his face into a Rubik’s Cube of half-formed and hastily discarded expressions. Most likely trying to work through whether Middle D counts as a weird-ass endearment for this particular family, or something he’s gonna be endlessly annoyed by if it happens to catch on. Its a process, especially considering it has to be filtered through the Jason to English dictionary first.

Finally he just shrugs in a lazy non-reaction that in Batspeak manages to count as a challenge. Basically a ‘try and guess what I decided if you can, chump.’

Jason’s face morphs Terminator style. The later ones, not the Governator model. He ends up displaying a mash-up: the smirk of inevitable victory meets the narrowed eyebrows of intent focus as bestowed upon a worthy foe.

Then the whole piece makes like an Etch-a-Sketch and is wiped completely away before being replaced with an annoyed jaw clench.

“Jay’s theory game is strong,” is the route Duke ends up taking though. “And here we thought the reason Bruce always says no about Superboy coming over is to prevent him from being a Brother Defiler. But all along it was just the insidious work of a Brother Depriver, with Superman himself being the culprit who told B hands off, this one’s mine. It all makes sense now! Superboy even fits the standard issue black hair and blue eyed, in store model.”

He tips his head towards the older boy in a gesture of appreciation for Jay’s detective work and connect the dots high score. Jason scowls back. By the standards of the Family Batshit, he’s clearly been caught off guard. With him so readily taking up the implied but not outright stated challenge teased by the younger boy, he’d completely failed to prepare for the compliments Duke then followed up with instead.

His siblings hide snickers behind faked coughs and gratuitous napkin usage. He’s netted himself an undeniable loss, according to the intricate rules and traditions of their family - ironically, many of which had been laid down by Jason himself when first established back in the misty years of yore. That mysterious, little spoken of era of legend and mystery, one that is nevertheless oft whispered of in hushed rumors and hearsay. The time before time, better known to the Bats and Birds as The Age of The First Two Robins.

If it had just been the family present, it might have been a different matter, but the presence of others changed things. Cuz see, in the eyes of anyone who isn’t a member of their observation obsessed and perpetually paranoid family, the relatively minute exchange between the two boys no doubt looked like Jason had been needlessly aggressive while the younger boy was just trying to pay him a compliment.

In a nutshell, Duke goaded Jason with what seemed like a challenge but didn’t technically count, so Jason’s attempt at responding to Duke’s not-challenge actually counted as the first actual sign of aggression, which Duke neatly side-stepped by already being in the process of paying Jay a compliment between the time Jay actually launched his challenge but before it actually landed.

Ergo, Duke wins.

Look, if its hard to follow, that’s probably for the best. They’re all pretty sure stuff like that isn’t supposed to make as much sense as it does to them.

Jason huffs but then finally heaves a sigh and tosses a tight-lipped and grudging but genuine nod of acknowledgment down the table to Duke. Despite himself, he can’t help but be a little impressed by the kid, having already picked up on even the more minute ins and outs of their family’s complicated interactions. But then, of course the younger boy is as precocious as the rest of them. Their family could single-handedly keep the nature vs nurture debate going for centuries.

Duke beams back before licking the tip of a finger and painting a single stroke in the air in front of him. A clear declaration that this round of the Batkids’ never-ending game goes to him. Jason rolls his eyes but can’t exactly begrudge him his endzone dance. Its not like he’s known for being graceful and gracious in victory either.

Come to think of it, none of them are. Huh. That explains a lot, probably.

Its at this moment that Dick finally regains enough composure to make his presence felt again.

Its understandable, really, the others acknowledge via conspiratorial looks of sibling solidarity that bounce their way rapidly across the table by way of their patented younger sibling network.

Anyone would have trouble juggling the combined stressors of introducing the girlfriend’s family, mediating their own eternal family mayhem, and on top of all that, seeing shoved into the spotlight his ‘shh, we don’t talk about that, what are you, new,” tendencies towards acting parentally protective and possessive of Damian, even with (and at times especially with) Bruce himself.

Not to mention the occasional clashes over the parenting strategy, or lack thereof, that Bruce still manages at times to bumble like the perfect dope that he is. Because if anyone has super strong feelings about Bruce’s parenting and no patience whatsoever for watching their father repeatedly fail to learn from his mistakes, well. That’s all Dick’s territory.

So with all of that kept firmly in mind like the efficient little multi-taskers they all know how to be (when they feel like it), they’re all poised to lend Dick a certain amount of leeway in how much amusement they enjoy at his expense today.

In all fairness to them, its not like he makes it easy. They had perhaps overestimated just how well Dick was juggling the various stressors in play today. After all, you can take the acrobat out of the circus, but that doesn’t mean jack shit about whether or not he can juggle because that’s an entirely different skillset, duh.

Hindsight’s not just sometimes a bitch. Its sometimes quite bitchy as well. Ugh, their subconscious minds could be such brats, honestly.

Look, the point is, even as they all patiently watch their eldest brother struggle his way back to a state of coherency and and managing to be present in the actual present, they’re still expecting him to pop out the other side with something at least approaching poise.

Instead, they get an encore.

“Umm,” Dick utters at last.

Tim buries his face in his hands. Duke tilts his head back and mutters prayers to some higher power. Cass closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly and sorrowfully. Lorna reaches across the table with her wine bottle and refreshes her sister’s glass. Wanda looks like she needs it.

Damian sits with arms crossed over his chest and scowl firmly directed at the table top, Judging Everything. Then again, that is still his default setting and pretty much what he’s been doing all night anyway. Say whatever else you want to about the kid, Steph reflects, but when he commits to a theme, hoo boy.

Jason, meanwhile, has thrown himself bodily at his brother, clamping a hand over the older man’s mouth and stage-whispering with exaggerated emphasis: “Careful! You could set off the exact same chain of events and we’ll all end up trapped in an eternal time loop we can never break free of! I mean, its practically a guarantee, if you combine my knack for being in the worst place at the worst possible time, Tim’s shitty spleen-phobic luck, Cass’ destined to someday prove ironically prophetic name, and your own lightning rod-esque ability to attract cosmic-level catastrophes to you like you’re catnip and they’re really just a cute little furball named Fluffy McWhiskerson.”

“Must you always insist on going the extra mile when being ridiculous, Todd?” Damian cuts in testily. Also, cuttingly.

“Shut the fuck up. It’s my coping mechanism for being part of a family that goes that extra ridiculous mile every damn day.”

“And people wonder what possible reasons I could have for not wanting to be adopted into this family and instead hanging onto a golden parachute option?”

Steph wonders aloud (and loudly) as she maneuvers the side of her fork around her plate like its a zamboni hard at work on an ice rink. Really, she just refuses to let a single scrape of Alfred’s home-made mashed potatoes go to waste. She’s not some heathen.

“You. You seem pretty smart.” That loaded statement and the finger pointed in her direction come courtesy of the Final Fantasy kid whose name may or may not be Cloud but probably isn’t, which is a shame, because Cloud is a pretty kick-ass name in Steph’s estimation. Not that anyone asks. Typical.

Also, where did they end up landing on the subject of what his name should be? Or is? Whatever? Was there a flowchart passed out at some point and she just missed it while busy being fabulous, or was this an actual oversight on B’s part and thus something they should all bring up as often as possible from now until the end of time?

No doubt spurred by a desire to be absent from whatever follows his twin’s newest train of thought, Billy raises his hand half-heartedly. No one bothers to point out the absurdity of raising his hand like he’s in school. He just seems like its a thing with him. He has that certain Quality, Steph decides.

“Can I be excused?”

Nobody seems sure who he’s asking, so its probably okay that nobody responds to grant permission. Besides, suffering through the awkwardness and drama like the rest of them is probably like, good for building character or something.

After about half a minute, Billy nods to himself as if that’s about what he’d expected. He lowers his hand again and uses it to prop up his head as he slumps over the table and idly sketches patterns atop the antique oak surface.

“I’m a galaxy-brain level intellect, you little Silver Whatever-the-Adorable-Baby version of a Fox is called,” Steph declares at last, jabbing her finger right back at the apparent Greater of Twin Evils. Y’know. To see how much he likes it. But also just because its fun to make like a drama queen in a place like Wayne Manor. Ambiance really is everything. “I even took my SATs and correctly informed the moderator that I was in fact there for the SATs and hadn’t gotten them mixed up with my ACTs.”

“Hmm,” the twerp says then, not at all appearing to be taught a lesson by her dramatic finger pointing reversal. He sweeps his eyes over her, assessing. Given that she hasn’t decided yet if she even likes the little twerp, let alone what he’s trying to assess and also if she even gives a shit on account of she might not even like the little twerp, Stephanie splits the difference and settles for combining bitch face with her best “How you like me now,” pose. Let him make of it what he will. ‘Snot like she knows what she’s going for there.

Also, its probably rendered slightly less effective due to her forgetting to factor in that she’s sitting and not standing, but whatever, she commits like a champ. Also, she’s still at most 60/40 on the liking of the twerp, so who even cares, honestly.

“I used to be able to count on my own smarts,” Platinum Punk says, seemingly settled on an opinion at last. “But I naively gambled that away in the name of wishing upon a star for family or what the frick ever, and I forgot to set wish parameters for ‘and also please let them all not be completely nuts.’”

“Watch the ableism please, sweetheart,” Wanda says with a long-suffering sigh.

“Sorry, Mom,” he says with an eye roll that nevertheless seems to somehow satisfy her. “But see? I’ll get a lecture about my language, but I skip school with my friends to fight giant robots in Times Square and she doesn’t bat an eye. My family’s priorities are not like your Earth’s priorities.”

“Or my Earth’s priorities,” he adds as an afterthought. “Or any Earth’s, probably. Maybe not some really weird and out there Earth, but they don’t count, probably.”

“Well I don’t like it, certainly, but I don’t want to be a hypocrite,” Wanda says defensively. “When I was your age, I was on the FBI’s Most Wanted list for being a mutant terrorist. All things considered, I have relatively few objections about how you and your brother spend your time.”

Several members of the Family Batshit direct eyes that are ever so slightly on the wide side. She meets them with an unapologetic shrug.

“I had a complicated childhood. I got over it.”

Lorna snorts into her wineglass. Wanda shoots her sister an annoyed glare, but still amends her statement.

“Mostly, anyway.”

Lorna smirks and waves her glass in some attempt at a meaningful gesture. Who knows what its actually meant to be. She seems to accept the amendment, at least.

“Please excuse our dear little sis her porcine displays of condescension,” Pietro interjects in silky smooth tones that do nothing to hide the sharp edges thinly veiled underneath. “She didn’t grow up with us and our dear, doting daddy, yet has never lacked for opinions on what superior choices she would have made in our positions. The fact that she’s still made plenty terrible choices of her own, is apparently quite irrelevant.”

His green-haired sister opens her eyes artfully wide and projects feigned innocence. “None of those were my fault. I was possessed a lot by a very evil psychic. Who, if you recall, actually called herself Malice. The evil was right there in her name. Advertised. I was innocent. She was evil.”

Pietro swirls his own wineglass, unimpressed. The other set of siblings have clearly been down this road a time or two themselves.

“I was primarily referring to your romantic history with a Summers. And not even the competent or aesthetically pleasing one, at that,” he drawls.

“She also had terrible taste.”

“Anyway, not to tear focus away from discussion of my dear auntie’s romantic selection process, as she and Uncle Pietro both lack the shame gene and they absolutely can and will traumatize all present via a thorough analysis of each other’s past partners in the most bizarre game of sexual chicken you will ever have the misfortune to witness...”

“Bold of him to make that claim when he’s never seen Dick and Jason do the exact same thing for the exact same reasons,” Tim mutters. Cass and Duke both nod. Jason glares, but seems stuck at the ‘come up with actual proof that he’s actually wrong’ stage of the rebuttal process. Dick has by now returned to the land of the living, but seems to have along the way decided discretion is the better part of valor as best guess is he’s currently preoccupied weighing the pros and cons of potential escape routes.

“Hey, Shiny Pokemon version of Sonic the Hedgehog,” Stephanie snaps her fingers and hopskips the focus back on the speedster in question. She waves her hand at the rest of the sound and fury occupying the table with them, as if to express just how much it all signifies nothing. “Just get to the point already and leave out anything else that these vile miscreants could possibly hijack and turn into tangents. You’ll never make it through a conversation in this house otherwise. Everyone here is expertly trained and practiced in the art of derailing the most obstinate and tunnel-visioned man in history from reaching his point whenever that point is deemed destined to make our day end poorly.”

“Some of us just happen to be better at that than others,” Jason says with smug confidence, twirling his butter knife lazily.

“Ironic, coming from the one trick pony,” Tim says dryly. Jason leans forward and raises his knife-wielding hand and Tim quickly raises his hands in a defensive gesture that’s clearly not meant to indicate he sees an actual threat, more just aimed at beating his brother to the punch with the rest of his punchline. “Sorry, I miscounted. I mean the one and a half trick pony.”

Steph clears her throat pointedly and looks back at Platinum Ken Doll. He just sighs in full gloom and slumps down in eerie symmetry with his twin. He definitely is the superior practitioner of the Sulk.

“Never mind,” he says melodramatically. “It wasn’t even a big deal anyway, just stuff I was trying to be like, snarky about or whatever, but the moment’s passed and it’s just kinda dumb and pointless without feeling like, natural or whatever.”

“Probably,” Stephanie agrees unsympathetically, because hey, when you’re right, you’re right. She doesn’t believe in coddling the youths, especially not the ones who are realistically only two years younger than herself at the most. “But you’ve managed to pique my interest enough that not knowing what you were going to say is randomly gonna bug me at 2 am or something obnoxious like that. Also, you started to praise my intellect and I don’t let things like that go unfinished. It sets a bad precedent. Now c’mon. Speak up. Praise me. Enunciate, so Damian can’t pretend he doesn’t hear you just because he’s trying to set the table on fire with just the searing intensity of his disdain.”

Damian responds with a gesture that he definitely didn’t learn from Dick, but on second thought, he probably did.

“That’s the spirit,” she said. “Keep on keeping on, slugger. If anyone can develop the ability to cause spontaneous combustion with nothing but willpower and spite, its Angst in the key of D Minor himself. I believe in you, kiddo!”

If she weren’t actually being full of shit about that, she might be in trouble from the glare Damian follows that with. Ashes to ashes and all that good stuff. But as rage-vision still refuses to make an appearance, the baby of the family in age and irony only retreats to the support of his high-backed chair.

Looking more adorable than he’d hopefully ever comprehend, lest he attempt to weaponize that as an addition to his armory, he slouches down and mutters something that makes Jason’s eyebrows climb his skull like they’re trying to set a speed record for making it all the way to the top.

It’d been in one of the languages that Damian knew and that her own circle of languages learned share no overlap with, but she mentally repeats it sound for sound in her head until she locks it in. Anything that can make Jason look that impressed is worth knowing, and translating something phonetically from an unknown language is nothing Google can’t handle.

And by Google she meant Tim, but that’s what ex-boyfriends are for, right? She’s fairly certain she saw that on a T-shirt somewhere, which is basically the same thing as true.

Anyway. Back to the praises that are supposed to be being sung, and yet weirdly, she still hears no singing. Steph boomerangs her focus back down the table to Smugness in Silver, and oozes impatience and expectations out her pores at him like emotions are contagious and she’s a cooties hotspot.

Fumbling from a clear unease with this particular kind of spotlight, and also how it’d admittedly been a weird fucking night for everyone concerned, the younger teen at last manages to self-consciously eke out: “Look, I said it was dumb now. I seriously was just gonna make a joke about you being too smart to get sucked into a weird ass family with endless drama without having an escape clause, and I was just gonna be like, teach me your ways or y’know. Whatever.”

“Wait!” Stephanie stops him right there with a palm outstretched in the universal sign for hold the fucking fuck the fuck up. She leans towards him, and in a voice pitched low and even but vibrating with barely leashed intensity, she asks him the only question that could possibly matter now:

“Was that last bit actually part of the joke you were going to make? The thing you were trying to say from the get go, not just something you said right now because you got confidence diarrhea and stopped using the words good?”

“Uh, yeah?” He says warily.

Stephanie slaps both her hands on the table’s surface, loudly enough to make most everyone jump a little in their seats, and forcefully enough to rattle some dishware and make her inner monologue hiss oww and yell at her for unnecessary roughness. She ignores herself, on account of having much more important things to deal with.

Launching herself to her feet, she leans into her palms where they press down on the table, giving herself a little bit of Loom to go with the gravity she forces onto her face. Glee is waging a valiant effort at retaking the lost ground, but she’s always insisted that she has excellent self-control, dagnabbit, and Stephanie Brown is many, many things, but she’s no liar.

Well, except for the times she is. But there are always reasons or like, extenuating circumstances for those.

Usually.

“I accept the honor and responsibility of being your Family Drama Sensei, and I shall teach you everything I know and also some stuff I make up just to fuck with you, because I’m not like Other Mentors. I demand and expect some giggles to go with the shits, or what’s even the point, y’know? First lesson: that was rhetorical! I say y’know a lot and when I actually expect an answer I’ll also be like omg hurry up, I aged 84 years waiting for you to say something already. Got it?”

The Twin That Could Have Probably Starred In Twilight blinks dazedly at her. He then turns to look at the rest of the table.

“Is she serious?”

“Deadly,” Steph intones, before one of these naysayers could nay on her say and potentially undercut her authority with her new minion. Uh, she means, like, henchkid. Sorry, sidekick. Shit. Crap - protege! That was what she has, a protege! Hah!

“For real?” He asks, doubtfully. She frowns. Is she stuttering?

“So real I make reality look fake,” she assures him gravely. He blinks some more. He does that a lot, she notes, like a Good Mentor who notices stuff about her mentee.

“Okay, see, because that wasn’t really what I was going for?” He says cautiously.

She rolls her eyes. C’mon kid, she doesn’t bite, except for like, sexy stuff and eww no, he’s like twelve. Well sixteen probably, but that’s basically the same thing as twelve. Also they had a lot of work to do on the spine-having thing because this sorta bit right here is totally gonna make her look bad in front of all the other mentors, if it doesn’t exit stage right, like post haste. And what not.

She doesn’t say any of that that out loud though. She’s not sure they’re there yet.

“Like, I was aiming more for just....a...I don’t know, a hah-hah?”

He leans back slightly, adding a little distance as he looks at her like she’s part of the craziness he needs help surviving instead of his sensei in all things suited to surviving the craziness. Ugh, she has so much work to do with this one. Its a good thing she’s always been pretty sure she’d make an excellent mentor, so like, qualifications. She has them. Obvy.

“La la la, I can’t hear you but also no take-backsies. You’re part of a legacy now. Or lineage. Or whatever the word is that’s not actually about dog family trees. Look, the point is by virtue of being my first ever protege and also the first protege of anyone who isn’t Dick or Babs who both don’t even count anyway because Reasons, you are now part of the grand tradition that is being a Bats and Birds person...partner...sidekick...thingie. Look, we don’t have the terminology all worked out yet. Like I said this is basically new territory except for Dick and Babs who don’t count and also Bruce, but he mostly communicates via grunts and scowls anyway, rendering most terminology moot.”

“What’s happening right now?” Her protege asks to no one in particular. Ugh. Unacceptable. She’s taking twenty points from House Twilight whenever she finishes reading those damn books and figures out just how that whole thing works.

“Okay, so the big takeaway from your first lesson here, because fuck that being cryptic noise, mentors who are always like ‘you have to figure out what you’re supposed to be learning here and then also learn it’ like, ugh, no. The worst, seriously.”

Look, occasionally detours are probably inevitable, but the important part is that she remain strong when doggy-paddling determinedly towards her point, because good mentors can handle occasional detours and don’t treat them like Kryptonite that’s gonna kill them all when they’re literally just sparring in the Cave, like, perspective, have some, y’know?

And also they don’t need to stop every couple hours into training so they can have temper tantrums because their kids are like, no dad, we can’t hang out today because that’s a thing that kinda happens when little kid people turn into bigger people people, like oh noes, gasp, horror. And then they have to go stomp around and make that everyone else’s problem because no matter how much they insist they’re loners, they actually really suck at being alone. Even though you’d think that mastering that particular skill would logically come first before you get around to training to say shit like “I am the Night, my dude,” with a straight face.

Its faintly occurring to her that she might actually have unresolved issues about Bruce and her brief apprentice-ship thingie with him. And also maybe its not super awesome conclusion and also the follow-up to all that bit of bother, all of which gargled a fair amount of donkey balls.

Ugh. Epiphanies are such losers. Literally who asked.

“Ahem. Anyway. Big takeaway. Teachable moment. Right. So yeah, first big thing is commitment. You start something, you see it through, got it? In this family and otherwise vaguely affiliated network of mentors and mentees, we don’t do take-backsies, okay? Its a matter of pride. Principle. Also, maybe brain damage. Like I said, this all really started with Dick, and he does get hit and shot in the head a whole lot, so admittedly, the rest of us do have some. Y’know. Questions. Now you sit there and absorb all that for a second. Like a sponge. See yourself as a sponge. Be the sponge. Good sponge.”

Wisdom having been successfully imparted, Steph nods in satisfaction and then spins to take in the rest of the room, hands planted on her hips Wonder Woman style, because power poses are totally gonna be lesson two.

Her eyes find their way to Bruce easily enough, which makes sense seeing as how his scowl takes up half the room. Any room. Okay, at this point she's willing to jot that whole might have issues thing down as okay so maybe she definitely has unresolved issues with Bruce. So what? She also has a protege, albeit one who probably does need some more convincing to fully be on board, but the point remains that like. Whatever. Suck her entire ass.

“Well,” she declares loftily, as if she’s not just talking directly to the B-Man. Plausible deniability, yo. Just because she’s willing to admit to herself that she maybe definitely has issues to still sort through, that doesn’t mean she has to like. Go around admitting that to other people. She’s not some kind of heathen. “I trust that we’ll all remember where we were when it was undeniably revealed that I, Stephanie Brown, do in fact have Wisdom and Experiences to share with the youths of tomorrow. As that is a thing that just happened. Lo!”

“I have witnesses,” Steph declares with the dial set all the way to Peak Drama, because look, if you can’t lean into the drama in Wayne Freaking Manor, life is empty and meaningless and that’s gonna be her supervillain origin story, probably. She throws out an arm towards the rest of the table, encompassing the dual rows of expressions that could best be described as bemused - if she were being generous and also lying out her freaking ass.

Still, she stands firm in the silence that follows her ringing proclamation, allowing not the slightest hint of self-consciousness slip free of her self control, because she’d literally just made a big deal about how it was all about committing, and Stephanie Brown might be many things, but a hypocrite is not one of them.

Well, other than - nope. Not doing that again. Upon reflection and careful examination of what really matters, accuracy also can be invited to suck the proverbial it.

Besides, there’s too much at stake for her to allow any weakness to betray her now. This is a momentous moment. Clash of the Stubbornness kinda stuff. She’s facing down Punky Brucester himself, and on his own turf of all places. Things like principles....and...and being right, all hang in the balance.

And yes, Stephanie is well aware that she has left even Peak Drama in the dust aeons ago, and they’re deep in uncharted waters now, with like, here there be dragons, lurking dramatically. So what if she’s being ridiculous? She maintains that he had started it, she’s like 99% she is being not at all irrational and unreasonable about that, and by God, she will have her vindication or she will have....whatever the tail end of that cliche goes like. Unless its death, because she kinda sorta already did that, and as far as she’s concerned it counted, and either way, she’s way over it and not looking for reruns.

All the while, Bruce stares her down with his face doing that resting I’m Judging You Face thing that nobody can be that oblivious to walking around with all the time, no matter what they may claim in liar-esque fashion.

Though, for all her various unresolved issues with him or whatever, she can admit to herself that the man is a goddamn master of conveying a bitch could care less. She’d sat on gargoyles that had served more face than Mr. I Could Be Listening To You Right Now or I Could Actually Be Thinking Boring Rich Asshole Stuff Like Whats Up With the Stock Market Today, LOL You’ll Never Know.

She upgrades her ‘Think About Issues’ notification to a maybe consider talking to someone about some of this stuff level.

When Bruce’s carefully placid facade finally breaks, then, it doesn’t break so much as it freaking shatters. Further evidence of this definitely being her superpower, which means time to move on to asking like, ugh why such an obnoxiously specific superpower, tho.

“She doesn’t even live here!” Bruce thunders again. Or some synonym that still means loud and forceful but also being desperate and totes whining. The Big Guy turns to face his children imploringly. He throws an arm in Steph’s direction for accusatory emphasis. Y’know. All dramatic like.

Oh shit. Maybe she did pick up some things from him after all.

Ugh. Okay, never mind, its definitely epiphanies that are gonna be her supervillain origin story. Seriously.

Fuck those guys.

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