Brothers in Blood will trick you into thinking it’s just a silly crack scenario brought to life and Jason just concocted this plan for shits and giggles. Then you get a single page like this:
Nightwing (1996-) #121
that reveals he wanted/desperately needed shreds of acceptance even if it was coated in layers of resentment irritation and doubt after going through this:
Batman (1940-) #650
And it had to be from someone who isn’t Bruce
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He can't be dead I still need to fix him !!!
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She’s the sky that holds the clouds
She’s the lady of our house
We all need her
But no one more than me
[Image ID: A close up of Lief from the shoulders up. Sharn’s hand is cupped around his right cheek, a gold bracelet dangling from her wrist. Her hand is pale. Lief is looking in front of him in her direction, tears forming in his eyes. His teeth are bared. He has brown skin and hazel eyes, and dark brown curly hair falls just below his face. He is wearing his Toran cloak and a grey shirt underneath. Scars from the Masked Ones incident are still healing on his face. The background behind him is varying shades purple with lighter-colored cracks along the canvas. /End ID]
One of my favorite things about Deltora Quest is Lief’s relationship with Sharn. She has been constant through his life since the start of the story. When Endon died, she was there to help him. She’s like a mother to Jasmine, one of Doom’s closet friends. She is strong and undeterred. When the Grey Guards tried to get her to give up her son she fought back even in chains. She would die for him.
And just imagine the pain she went through when she had to send him away on this harrowing trip that he might not return from. Her son, and she sent him to all the dangerous places in the world without being able to give him any further information. And then seeing him have to step to the throne without his father’s guidance, to lead the people and fix the mistakes of his father and his ancestors. And then he had to leave again to an unknown world in the second series. All the while, he’s lying to the girl he loves and Sharn can do not very little to help him. He’s been trying to push everyone away to protect them. Sharn understands this, but others do not. Once again, she watched him go with little reassurance he would return.
Three times this happened. Each time, he did return, with a heavier burden. When he returns for the third time, she isn’t lucid enough to see him. When she finally does see him, he’s changed, like the other two times. This time, he bears horrible scars all across his face that will forever be there. Sharn might have not put those scars there, but there is nothing she can do to wipe them away. Not this time.
All throughout this, Lief has had to put on this front with most people. Sure, Jasmine and Barda are there with him through it all, but there are some things he simply cannot tell them. Like the fake belt, or the crystal. And there are things that he can tell them, but they might not fully understand. Sharn was once a Queen, and she is his mother. She survived where his father did not. And every time he returns from his journeys, she is there to greet him.
Except for the third time. She is sick and dying and he feels helpless to protect her. He saves her, realizes that he was wrong, and then is told that no, he was right to begin with. So she is alive and awake. A horrible threat is posed towards their people, but his mother is alive. And when he finally gets a moment alone with her, he suddenly realizes just how close he was to losing her, too.
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i keep thinking to continue rereading tgcf, but then i realise i’m in the flashback arc and i just stop. i’m going to skip to the romance right away, but just know:
There are multiple instances of Xie Lian, in his internal monologue, saying that he doesn’t know whether he should laugh or feel sad. whether he should laugh or feel concerned. whether he should laugh or cry. even in his youngest years as a prince in the novel. before everything went to shit. after he met hua cheng. thinking of whether he should laugh or cry. wondering whether he should laugh or cry. W̷̧̢̪͖̣͓͖̯̣͍͔̭͖̞̘͇͖̙̣͇̭͕͔͇̘̫̠̘̓̇͆̀̐̀́̉͜͝ͅH̵̡͙̣̺͍̻̯͖͔̓̎̂̐̄̒̉͐̿͊͠Ě̸̢̧̡̧̨̨̨̛̱͚̻̯̺̼͈̹͇̝̭̝̯̝̰̖̞̖͚̥̻̥̑̈́̒̃̔͐̌̈́̿̐̋̋̂͆̈̀̀̅̿̒́̍̑́̄͛͘̕͜͝͠͝T̸̛̪̋̾́͊͗̎͗̾͂̓͒͛͘H̵̢̛͌̓͋̏͊͊͋͂̿̽̈̀͋̓̈́͋̂̄͐̔̆̅͆̈̂̽̓̈́̈́̉̎̂̕̕̚͠͝͝͝͝Ẻ̸̢̡͈̮̳͎͔̣̔̐̌̊̒̍͛̃̈̓̾̅́̀̒̈̋͐̃̆̓͘̚͜͝͠͝͝R̶͕͚̮͙̲͍̫̬̠͈̗̱̹̟̺͈̖͊̂̍̾͌̉̌̍͌̃̑̈́͛̿̈́̌̋̉́̂͐̐̉̓́̚͠͝͠͠͠ ̸̨̡̨̛̛̙̮̱͉̝͍̦̠͇͇̻̳͓̝͓͛͋́͛̈́͝H̵̨̡̨̧̢̜̤̜̝͖͈̜͎̯̰͔͍͖̥͇̱̫̹̪̹̙̼̥̗̳̭͙̹̹͙̣͉̤̭͉̝͓̖̠͕̱̐̀̈́̀͒̈̔͐̉̈́̏̏̄͒̅́̊͗̍̈́̍͋̇́͑͐̿̾̈́̈́̾̊͘̚̚̕̚͜͝͝ͅE̵̡̧̡̢̨̢̧̛̙̠͕͔͇̩̠̝̭̝̫̮͔̬̺̼̫̼̺̞̮̳̞̘̰̼͉̦̲̮̩͈̦͍̞͖̘̖͈̼̪̫̣͗̇͆̉͛̌͆͛̈́̄̑̂͛̾̀̎͌̽̒̔̀̂̈́́͛͗̍̄̔̈̐̊̌͌͑̑̚͘̚͜͠͝͝ͅ ̴̪͔͔͖͖̎̑͐͆̑͗͊̅͂͆̐͆̅̀͒̎̾̚̚͠͠͝͝S̴̛͍̮͈͙̺͎͌̒̂́̓́͐̔͗͋̆̎͌̒̃͊̓̓͐́͋̾͒̂̒̐͋̒̌̓̓́̂̽̎́͐̇̈́̇̕͝͠Ḩ̴̛̘͙̜̝̮̣̠͎̥͚̥̮̣̫̻͔̲̠̠̺̝͒͒̽̋͑͌̋̇̈̆̉̀̎̆͆̉͂̐̀̓̀̍͘͘͝ͅͅỠ̶̢̢̹̜̘̙̮͉̬̥̱̼̭̥̭̪̹̞͉̤̫͇̍̀̾͆͐̑͆̐̏̾̓̊̏́̏͒̔̒͑̈́̇͋̅̐͜͝͝Ư̶̧̡͕̠̝̝̘̘̒̉͗̎̀͗̌͂͛̀̋̐̐̈́͋̔̇̃̀͗̾͗͠͠Ļ̶̨̨̡̧̢̢̧̧̱̯͇͓̙̞̹̱̝̟̙͍̖͕̲̮̜̯̹͓̬̱̺̜̻̹̹̦̙̓̀̒̇̒̈́̎̈́̆͋̈́̏͋̊͊́͑̔͋̇͛̅͗́̃̓̐͑̓̏̓̆̕͜͝͠D̴̢̧̢̢̧̛̛̛̝̫̫̘̺̰̱̹̤̺̺̗̹͙̳̬̻̰̳̬̖͈̜̜͉͇͙̯̊̎̈́̂̍̈͒͊̀͛́̀͑͗͋̃͗̓̄̿̀́̈̂̔́̀̂̆͊̅̕͘̚̚͝͝͝ͅ ̵̢̧̛̣͖̖̬̟̯̖̼̝̬̘͍̳͚̤̓̈̓̍̽́̎͐̈̏́͌̿̔̃̎̉͌́́̃͑͛͘̚͜͝Ļ̷̧̡̧̡̘̦̜͈͖̳̖̠̫͙͚̺̟̙̯̹̟̝̞̮̯̬̬̻̩̟͔͍͉̮̬͑͋̅̅̊̑̓̓̇̽̉̉͑̈́̌̈́̓͂̈́̑͆̒̅͆͆̂̒̀̽̈̂̍̇͊̈̕̚͘͘͘͘͝Ą̷̡̢̢̠̝̰̮̞̻͔̞̠̳̦̥̗͈̗͉̞̝̬̜̹̙̝͈̩̺̲̳̗̱̭̻̭̞̙̯̙͎̅̄͊̅̇̃͒̈́̍̃̔̿̌̀́͌̕̕͜͠͠ͅͅŲ̵̨̢̡̢̨̛̩̜̰̭̬̩̤̹̰̳̹͉̮̭̥̩̬̮̣̺͍͚̲͉̞͗͒̌̋̀̍͊̅͂̃̒̓̈́͆̀̋̔̔̽̋̏̑̑̈̑̈͑̄̈́̑͋̋̔́̚͘̕͜͝͠G̷̨̧̛̩̯̤̘̪̭̜͎̲̲̹̜̖̪̼͙͙̼̞͉͇͔̒̇̈̆͒̉͛͐̎̽̈́̄͒̀̏́̔́̽̂̌̊̿͋͆͐̂͒̊̾́̒̋͑̍̓̕̚͘̕͘͘͜͠͝͝͠͠H̴̡̡̢̦̰̖͔̲͇̝͖͈͇̘̙̹͍̺̭̺̫̥̥͈͙̙̳͉̭̞̟̫͍̮͖̫̻͔̜̳̟̪̜̃̅͐̂͊̉̋̐͑́̊͗̈̃̅̍͋͆̑̄̿̄͊̀̈́̐͆̓͊̈́̇͛̀̊͌͗͆̕̕̕͝͠ ̵̢͈̘̟̘̥̝͈͇̦͕̭̯̺̋̇̏̔̽̈́̎̈́̓͊̆̈́͌̾̓͌̾̃̍̅̆̊̈̓̋̅͘̕͘̚͝͠͝Ǫ̶̡̧̙͉̪̫͉̝̰̱̪̯̻̭̺̰̰̼̣̟̭̻̣̺̬̖̙͍̩͙̇͑̒̌̈́͊͂̒̈́͑̏̄͘͠͝͠ͅͅȐ̷̡̤͓̦̮͚̱̬̰̳̩̙͈͉͙̯͇͖̳̠͚̼̪̗̦͍̻͈̜̟͈̺̼̳̭̲̪̳̖͇̪̙͍͔̤̻̓́̋̂̒̉̅̕͜ ̷̢̭͚̪̲̬͖̖͊͆̀̀͊͗̒̓̆́̾̿͒̈́̏̓̂̍̒̿̄̒͊͆̇̏̐̒̏̽͂̄̃̂̾̎́̅̕̕̕̕͘̕̚̕͝͝͝F̷͒̓̍̀͒̄̓̿̿̈́́̀̓̄̍̿̏́̓͂͆͗͆̊͆̎̌͋͑̅̽͒̉͘̚̕̚͝ͅU̶̧̳̗̜̠̝̣͈̩̤̲̲̝͚̟͕̬͓̩̰̖̻̤̦̰̣͈̜̝͈̟̪͒͊̄̀̾͗̍̈́̑̋͑̒̄̌̓͒̑̇̓͂̈́̀͘͘̚͠͝C̸̢̛̩͉̦͍̘̜̻̳̱̲̫͍̼͓̘͕̀̑̎̂̐̒͋͑́̊͑̈́̎̈̆̋̉̈́͆̓̓͗̇̀̀͆̓͒͆̄̓͆̿̒́̓̉͗̓̒͆̀̑̋́̕͘̚͘͝͝͠K̵̨̧̨̨̬̲̝̬̲̘͓͔̫̭͈̩̺̰̦͉̦̦̦̪̜̮̯͇̬̠̝̥̫̩̗͚͍̪͚͕̼͚̜͙̫̥̎̉́̎̈͜͜͝Ì̵̛̠̌͂͐̾͋́̄͐̈̌́̊͑͌̌̿̄̓̎͋̋̒̊̋̿̍̋͗́̇̿͋̃̓̔͋͒̽̾̋̋̑͘̚͝͝͠͠͠͠N̸͎̟̙̝͉̄͆́̾͂̐͌̓̓̄̾͝G̸̢̯̦̊̋͆͆͌͛̽͂͆͐̇ ̴̡̢̛̛̪̦̰̞̬̤̬̰͚͖̪̖͓͎̰͇̰̖̍̏̆̔́͒̒̍̇̀̀̒̀͘Ć̵̡̫̲̙̰̯͙̯͎̟̩̦͚̞̼̟͍̣̩̪̦̭̥̰̺͙͖̦̜͍̹̯̬̣͔̽̍̈́̽̊́͐͂̐̈́̐̅̓͛̄̕͘R̷̀̆̀́͋̄̏̍̓̅̌̃̀̈́̓̒̈́̓̕͝��̡̡̨̢̨̼̥̩̩̍̐̌̾̍̕ͅͅÝ̴̨̢̧̛͙͉͍͙̰̞̠̞̩̼̩͖̗͓̗̗̩̻̜̰̖͎̪͇͇͓̦̩̩̮̟̭̠̳̍̆̈́̐̈́̋͊͋̈̏̏͒͊̈̈̇̿̾͂͒̕̚͜͝͠
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hey the last drawing will probably be uploaded tomorrow!! i know you'll understand but i've been very busy today :)
anyway i'm curious about if the other eggs have any sort of role in your au??
OH and if you want to talk abt what chayanne and phil's relationship is like, i've been very curious about that lol bc it seems like phil's both very protective of him and doesn't care about him that much. not saying you haven't thought it out i'm just eager to look more into his character!
Hello!! Yeah no I understand I’ve been super busy too. Finals season and everythang. It’s a curse. Oh my god. (Which is why im so late answering this ask hello omg!!!) But anyways yes hello oh my god questions!!!! 💖💖💖!!!!! YES!!! I WILL ANSWER
The other eggs have very loose roles but they do exist!! They sort of take up the space of the descendants-of-the-champions roles that Sidon and the others fill (although I’m not sure who is who at the moment, would have to think about that a little more!!) (I have no idea what role Tallulah plays, but I think she might be traveling around with Wilbur, more info on that later) but sometimes they’re also just like, normal random kids. They are all friends I promise. I don’t have a lot on them though so this is not that coherent.
CHAYANNE AND PHIL. WOUGH BOY. THIS IS A LONG ONE
You were right in that Phil is very protective of Chayanne!! I think a part of him knew Chayanne was The Chosen Hero, but when faced with the decision to send him off to what very well could have been his sons death, if not horrific trauma he was like um. No lol. Not doing that.
A consequence of the storyline in general is Phil isn’t very mentioned a lot, so it gives off the idea that he’s uncaring towards Chayanne, but I promise you that’s not the case!! (Not to make fun of you or call you out of course). Phil is actually very loving towards his son, and was devastated when he ran away with the Master Sword.
Then (for reasons I haven’t thought up yet) he’s pretty distracted but desperately trying to get his kid back. Until the calamity happens and they fail. Then he’s under the impression his son is just dead and he’s in mourning for the next 100 years (Why is he still alive in 100 years, you ask! Well! I took everything from these kids and I think taking their parents is a little bit too cruel so everybody is blessed by some sort of god that expands their lifespan a couple hundred ok :D!!!)
And then a little bit after botw someone goes to Philza and is like hey. The hero is back. He’s hanging out with Princess Pomme. He looks a lot like the missing hero from 100 years ago. Your son. Might be your son Phil. And Phil basically takes 3 seconds to process this before clawing himself up from his depression and being like OK. WE’RE GONNA GO GET HIM!!! AND IF ANYBODY TRIES TO STOP ME IM MAULING THEM. Of course he gets to hyrule RIGHT as totk plot starts and Chayanne goes missing so kind of an L BUT THEY DO REUNITE!!!
They get their moments. They also get a really tearful reunion where Chayanne is like dad im so sorry for running off oh my god :( I forgot you for a hundred years you must be so upset with me. And Philza is hugging him like oh my god my kid is ok. Oh my god. YOU’RE GROUNDED FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE WHAT THE FUCK. And then just caries him around. And probably has some sort of beef with Missa because that’s Chayanne’s Hyrule-Dad. Meanwhile Pomme stands in the back ready to kill him if he makes one wrong move.
There’s a side story kind of sequel relating to that where Pomme and Chayanne have to grapple with the fact that Chay is also a prince and his dad misses him dearly and wants him to come home but they don’t want to be separated ever for the rest of their lives. Maybe even some parent bonding. Like a little family-person drama to contrast the cursed-destiny-supernatural-calamity drama and probably some Death Family Bonding.
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Another stupid joke of mine that prolly doesn’t make sense
*for reference, that child is supposed to be a reincarnated Aurora, b/c I like the idea of Des adopting her, and this would be the most likely scenario if we’re trying to go by canon
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ten drawings and like twelve seconds of the song into this whodunit? project, determinedly progressing....and for fun, i was like, okay put Anything else into zeke’s locker / give it Any flair, like, always striking for a balance b/w not making things too difficult but not like cutting all corners & fully avoiding what i think would be fun &/or just good to include
mainly had the spontaneous idea for like, put a poster/pic in there somewhat horror related, i was gonna do something kind of Scary Generic like a haunted house & then had the insight like oh hey make it hopefully evocative of the cover illustration for the first goosebumps book “welcome to dead house”
and then added a kermit the frog keychain, fun anyways, and a bit of a shoutout to an element of the book in zeke’s like immediate introduction lol
kind of the best of both worlds when it occurs to me to have something be kind of an easter egg / reference to Something touched on in any of this material, like also made sure to get zeke’s locker number right (or rather make the locker to the left One Number Below the number given in the musical synopsis (no locker number’s given in the book) to imply his correct locker number, but probably i’ll show the closed locker door also) which is itself an easter egg reference to how many years ago the events of The Legend occurred (in the musical), because coming up with such details wholecloth is a trial i might just otherwise avoid completely, and then idk i think it’s fun. like, i’ve read welcome to dead house, classic. i’ve also now read phantom of the auditorium lol and it’s always a great time, r.l. stine always talking about how he thinks that wtdh as the first book is a bit too scary and/or not yet tempered enough with humor, and pota makes me laugh aloud like every page. a delight
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I love how many people do the thing where you have one save with a mage trevelyan and then one with a rogue/warrior trevelyan and you play them as siblings... it's like a fun built-in au to play with.
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Its 2 am and im crying over a childhood friends dad who died when I was 13 or 14 so thats how my nights going
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i love having post ph ideas and no idea where on the timeline they go
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Dead on main au where
1. Danny wears a 1/2 face mask as a ghost to make sure his parents don’t find out who he is
2. The decision to start wearing the mask was a spontaneous thing that happened at school and he stole the mask from his high school’s theater department
3. Danny moves to Gotham as soon as he turns 18 on a scholarship but it doesn’t include dorm fees.
4. Danny hides out in an abandoned theater (the attic is surprisingly well insulated!!!!) and spends most of his time there as a ghost because he can’t anywhere else in Gotham.
5. An injured Red hood limps his way into one of his favorite old hideouts (the theater obviously), and promptly passes out from blood loss with the hazy image of a masked glowing spector as the last thing he sees.
6. He wakes up enough to hear soft reassurances of safety and feel cool hands carry him with no noticeable strain.
7. Jason comes to in a giant nest of blankets with his wound neatly stitched up, a killer headache, and a sticky note wishing him well/ promising the writer didn’t leak under the helmet (a fact Jason is well aware of considering his head is very much unexploded)
8. Jason tries to leave but he passes out again and is honestly too tired to try again when he comes back around. So he just…falls asleep.
9. Jason wakes up again to warm food on an old silver tray and an empty room, not knowing Danny is watching him from the corner to make sure he doesn’t fall again. Not that Danny wouldn’t catch him again, but he’d prefer it didn’t happen at all.
In short, Danny plays elusive nurse to the dangerous red hood while Jason sees a literal ghost that lives in an abandoned theater wearing a phantom of the opera mask and decides he’s found a keeper. Clearly he appreciates the drama.
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simon riley x fem!reader
Imagine holding Simon when he cries.
Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human.
You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.
You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.
So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.
You swallow. Did something happen during the mission?
“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in.
Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life.
He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it.
“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?”
Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness.
Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing.
“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom.
“Loved him so bloody much.”
You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot.
His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.
“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?”
In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…”
Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside.
“It’s okay, baby.”
You kiss his temple.
“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.”
He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest.
But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.
"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."
For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."
note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!
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Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?
They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?
And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?
Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.
Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.
He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.
But it's not.
His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".
......guys?
His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.
*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*
Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.
And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?
Are DIFFERENT.
They're all of um!
It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.
There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.
Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!
No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!
Sad. We miss it.
But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?
Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!
Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?
Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*
Clearly a demon!
He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.
Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.
Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)
Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.
People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.
Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!
Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.
So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.
Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.
He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.
Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.
@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes
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#i'm very pro danny accidentally adopts a whole bunch of talons previous installments
*
The next day, the body was back.
The green was gone from its eyes, but the awareness wasn't; it spent about an hour watching people go around outside Danny's apartment, which was new behavior. None of the corpses that shadowed him had shown any interest in garden-variety humans before. Now it sat at the window and watched families come home from school or head to their afternoon shifts.
That went into Danny's notes.
After that hour, it taught itself to flush the toilet repeatedly, rearranged the contents of Danny's half-assed linen closet (again) and then stood hovering over the safe where Danny had stashed the ectoplasm.
"...Okay," said Danny.
The dead body croaked. It was a new sound, but there was no context for it. Danny just kind of...wrote it down and hoped for the best.
The day after, Danny woke up at a very reasonable ten forty eight in the morning to find stray corpses feeding each other spoonfuls of ectoplasm in the kitchen.
At that point he kind of had to throw out the notes on how much each one was dosed with, because what the fuck.
"Really?!" Danny shouted, spooking the bodies into fleeing behind chairs and doors and back into his closet again. The only one that didn't flee was Danny's ringmaster corpse of the hour, of course. "You really couldn't wait??"
It stuck out a withered black tongue out at the mortician, who was, really, the victim in all of this. A victim to his parents' whims and a victim to the dead people who followed him around all the time.
This was how Danny found out that, when it doubt, the corpses could just tear through solid steel if they were motivated enough. The finger-marks were so deep and so embedded that they actually looked more like rough claws in the metal.
Great.
Danny ordered a new locking cage for the fridge on Prime and darted off to work. One of his regulars was on the table, though, so Danny just ended up doing what he would have at home— sewing up a gash in its neck and reattaching dead fingers back onto dead stumps.
On the third day, in which four of Danny's frequent fliers had learned from the first how to flush the toilet (and therefore raise the water bill immensely) Danny got a ring from a dark voice he (almost) recognized.
"Is he here?"
Danny squinted, jerking the phone further under his ear as he whipped up some scrambled eggs. The dead girl leaning over his shoulder leaned a little closer to watch the egg froth up. "Is who here? Who is this?"
"This is Batman. Is— the body requisitioned from your facility currently at your place of residence?"
Danny fully let go of the whisk. It landed haphazardly in the glass bowl he'd been stirring in. "What on Earth is a Batman?" he asked, incredulous.
"I visited your workplace previously."
Oh! "Yeah, the cop's friend. I remember now." Danny pulled the whisk out of the liquid eggs and held it out to the body. The unusually animate cadaver mostly prodded the whisk wires and paid no attention to him. "No one's here but me, though. Not that it's your business...?"
"And there are no non-living bodies currently in your apartment?"
Danny ignored the flushing noise in the other room. "I don't know, dude. They practically live in the walls at this point. Don't come over unless you have a warrant."
The call ended with a click.
His omelette turned out amazing, by the way. In case you were wondering.
On the fourth day, the ectoplasm was gone, because the corpses had apparently all taught each other how to lockpick the container in the fridge.
"Okay, some of that was meant to be my dinner. No more lotion at the funeral home now, okay? Now you all can be ashy forever. I'm so serious," Danny complained to the only visible dead person in the room.
The dead person held up a cracked egg. It was probably a gesture of peace, but now there was egg on his vinyl flooring to deal with. And. It wasn't exactly all that comforting in the end.
On the fifth day, Danny awoke to the sensation of a hand jamming itself through his neck until it punched into the mattress beneath him.
Fuck.
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