#apparently i need a meta tag now

[saltiestcoconut]

You know something I noticed while searching up common flower colors (for personal reasons) is that the common colors are yellow orange red and pink while the rare colors are blue and purple

We all know purple blue and pink are the most common colors for the tree yusaku's named after but it is interesting how overall those are rare colors for flowers much like how yusaku is not very well known in his series unlike the other yutags who gained fame during their series run

But Playmaker is the more well known of the two both in and out of the show (tho there is an increase in yusaku centered merch instead of just playmaker like it was in the past) and his hair is the combination of the common flower colors (I refuse to see his hair as red its more red-orange to me) basically since Playmaker is the more visible of the two he gets the more well known/common flower colorization

Tho the whole playmaker vs yusaku's hair probably isn't even that deep maybe its just a matter of red-orange and yellow being close to orange which is the color opposite to blue on the color wheel much like how yellow is opposite of purple which is ais colors who knows (well technically its yellow orange but shhh yellow is still close by)

#kinda funny how yusaku is associated with wisteria and yet he lacks their most common color purple #almost as if hes meant to be accompanied by something purple 🤔🤔🤔 #or maybe its not even that deep lmao #this is me thinking about yusakus namestake again thanks #ygo vrains #apparently i need a meta tag now

[subway-tolkien]

Okay, this is 1600 words of (positive!) meta regarding the OFMD finale. Included is character analysis and a treatise on why a certain trope people keep throwing around does not apply here.

This is of course just my take, and I'm sure people will disagree, but I needed to get this out. Apologies if it comes off disjointed, I've had like no sleep.

Spoilers within, obviously. You have been warned. Heed the tags. I didn't tag any characters because I consider it a spoiler, but you know who this is about.

Listen. Listen.

Let me start off by saying I have been where you are. I’ve had beloved characters die, either because it was important to the narrative or for shock value. I’ve been there, so I’m not coming at this without empathy. I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him as a character. I’m truly sad to see him go.

But from what I’m seeing around Twitter and tumblr, some of you do not understand the role of an antagonist in a story.

Izzy was always meant to die. The moment he said, in the first season, “the only retirement we get is death,” I knew he was meant to die in the end. The foreshadowing ran through both seasons. Izzy was the true antagonist of S1. He was there to keep Blackbeard tethered when he started pulling away, and yet he also set the plot in motion. He inadvertently introduced Blackbeard to the person who let him be just Ed. He put Ed on his own path to redemption without even knowing it.

S1 ended with Izzy getting what he wanted as Ed lost everything he had. S2 was about Izzy coming to terms with the fact that he’d gone too far, he’d turned Ed into a monster. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Blackbeard back, just like old times. Instead, he got the Kraken, and it was more than he bargained for.

Especially after it cost him his leg and he realized how far gone Ed really was. The conversation that ended with Izzy’s half-assed suicide attempt was the final blow to Izzy—Ed really didn’t seem to care anymore. Where Izzy wanted him to stop giving a shit about his silly boyfriend, he instead got a Blackbeard who didn’t care about anything, and he was apparently now included in that category.

(I said half-assed suicide attempt because Izzy wasn’t meant to die then, THAT would have been an empty, pointless death. It wouldn’t have taught Ed anything—in fact, all it did was make him more self-destructive, which was Izzy’s purpose to the narrative, but not his endgame. That Ed thought Izzy killed himself pushed Ed to the brink. Ed wanted to die and take every scrap of Blackbeard with him. Had Izzy successfully killed himself, Ed and the Revenge would be at the bottom of the ocean.

It wasn’t until the crew left Izzy the unicorn leg that he realized the power of compassion, the incredible act of grace from a crew that suffered so much from Izzy’s own machinations and didn't need to forgive him. It moved him to tears, and it moved him to accept that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let people in, to let himself be cared for. It was a foreign concept and something Izzy likely hadn’t experienced since losing his family (I fully expect a shit ton of fanfic of Izzy’s life before piracy).

Israel Hands found the capacity to let love all the way in and by god, did he pursue it.

But, again, Izzy was always meant to die, and I’m glad they stuck to the narrative they set out with instead of placating fandom and letting our influence dictate how they told this story That’s never good, trust me. Fandom should not influence a creator’s decisions regarding their own characters. It rarely if ever ends well.

[Stares in Voltron S8]

And I see a lot of people out here throwing the “bury your gays” phrase around—I beg you, please look up the definition of the trope. Izzy didn’t die because he was queer, he didn’t die because of his disability. He wasn’t one half of the only queer couple in the show fridged for shock value. He wasn’t killed off due to pressure from conservative viewers. He wasn’t the only queer, disabled character.

They didn’t kill off Lucius, or Jackie, or Wee John. Would you be as outraged if it was any of them?

Killing Eve is bury your gays. Supernatural is bury your gays. Pretty much any film, book, TV show, whatever, where a queer character dies because they’re queer, of AIDs, to further the narrative for a straight person, etc—that is burying your gays.

Izzy’s death was none of those things. Izzy’s death had meaning.

Izzy’s death freed Ed from the Blackbeard persona. It finally forced Izzy to say the things he couldn’t say until he realized it was his last chance. Izzy was also tired. I honestly think he stuck it out for Ed’s sake, because he was afraid to let Blackbeard go without making sure Ed would be ok.

He loved the idea of Blackbeard, but over time, he learned to love Ed. He finally understood what Ed tried to tell him the whole time.

“Fuck off, you twat. You’re surrounded by family.”

You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need me anymore. You don’t need to be reminded of who you’re capable of being, you need the people who will guide you to who you will become, and I’m not one of them.

I know a lot of Izzy fans are stung by his death, some of you are deeply upset. I get that. Like I said, I’ve been there. Sirius’s death made me throw that fucking book across the room. That Fucking Woman™ killed off my entire OTP, purely for shock value and, imho, a direct response to shippers. Trust me, I have felt betrayed by a creator for their decisions.

But I need you to understand that no, this was not a personal attack, this was not malicious, this was not “bury your gays." A show that celebrates queerness and diversity is not suddenly homophobic and ableist because your favorite character died and happened to be both of those things. But when the majority of your cast of characters is different in some way, and they’re in a show about 18th century pirates, you have to accept that one of them could, in fact, die. “Anyone Can Die” is also a trope and the more accurate one to describe E8.

If only being queer and disabled made you invincible.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

And no, I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him, I loved him as an antagonist, and I loved his redemption arc. He was fascinating and Con put his whole O’Nussy into that part. I’m sorry to see him go, but as a mystery writer who often has to kill off beloved characters, I understand that he served the purpose he had from the beginning.

I swear, if some of you had your way, there’d be no conflict at all in any form of media. This what a steady diet of nothing but fanfic gets you. This is not a fluffy one-shot with magical healing dick and a happy ending where everyone sails off into the sunset. If that’s what you wanted, what you headcanoned, you did this to yourself. It’s not David et al’s fault that we took that character and babygirled him. That’s the risk we take when we decide to love a specific character, when we take a genuinely terrible person (in S1) and woobify him.

So, please stop harassing and attacking David, Alex, et al. David did not and should not change his story to placate us. The fact he went ahead with it despite the backlash I’m sure he expected makes me respect him as a creator even more.

Anyway, I’m going to revel that we have three (!) queer relationships with happy endings where one or both didn’t immediately die (again, the actual definition of “bury your gays”) and that we got at least two seasons of a little show that celebrated individualism, diversity, queerness, compassion, and love.

In the end, it all came down to love.

“There he is.”

Goodbye, Blackbeard.

Hello, Ed.

#ofmd spoilers #ofmd season two spoilers #ofmd finale spoilers #ofmd finale #Meta #ofmd s2 spoilers #our flag means death

[purple-goo-writes]

Punk Hazard pt 2

Part 1

"Clocky...what's wrong with me? What did they do to me?" It hurt so much, so much. Something was wrong! Wrong Wrong Wrong WRong! "I do not know Daniel...but you can not stay here any longer."

Danny, now Punk Hazard, was not expecting to be sitting in a safe house, what looked to be a refurbished warehouse, and to be fussed over by various of the older members of the Rogues as Captain Cold called them upon introducing them to Punk. Yet, here he was sitting on the couch as James, who was apparently the Former Trickster, fussed over him while Captain Cold, or Leonard Snart as he was told to call him, bustled around the kitchen with Heatwave. Killer Frost had dipped after they escaped the heroes and Mr. Snart talked about introducing him to the Rogues. Maybe he should have done the same. But, Mr. Snart had promised him non-reanimated food.

Though he had looked rather concerned when Punk asked if it was going to try and eat him. Apparently food didn't do that here. Good to know.

James seemed content to know that his scars while glowing an eerie green/blue weren't hurting him and that he had no injuries after his tussle with the Flashes. Glider was amused when Punk commented that James was rather motherly for a former villain, "Yeah, he's just like that. Think fussing over us keeps him from relapsing at times."

"Definitely not used to an adult caring for me...Usually, they want to rip me apart molecule by molecule." Punk commented only to blink in confusion as the warehouse went silent, even the kitchen was silent as Heatwave and Leonard stopped to stare at him. "Guessing that's not normal?"

James made a strangled noise while Glider pats his shoulder to calm the man down, "No?!? Who does that to a kid?!" "I think you need to start from the beginning, kid," Captain Cold sighed as he handed the mixing bowl to Mick. He probably shouldn't be holding anything for this.

Twenty minutes later, Leonard wondered if Barry would forgive him if he froze a few government facilities solid. Probably, the guy was just as soft-hearted as he was when it came to kids. "Okay, let me get this straight...see if I have all the facts.." "...Pretty sure chair arms aren't supposed to bend that way."

"Your parents were mad scientists and worked with an evil government agency-"

"Not necessarily mad-"

"Found out you were a meta-"

"Technically I wasn't-"

"And decided to work with said government agency to rip you apart and find out how you tick-"

"Viviscected is the correct term for it."

"Along with other experiments which fucked with your biology and powers even more. And now you are on the run after ransacking their labs."

"Yeah pretty much.."

"Right you are one of ours now-"

"I'm not sure that's how adoption works-"

"Do you need a new name? I think you need a new name. Not just your rogue tag."

"He's not listening is he?"

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc au #punk hazard #punk villain danny au #so this was supposed to lead to him meeting the yj #but Leonard took over #dad! leonard snart #danny is so adopted nw

[buttercuparry]

I am mass tagging this because I think our criticism never reaches a larger part of the fandom. People can't comprehend why certain kinds of fan art styles are criticized. I acknowledge that in our enthusiasm to do so, we sometimes hurt fanartists ( in fact a few months ago a fan artist had deactivated and really that shouldn't have happened). So in this post I am trying to address the issue in the best way I know of. This post is about the way asoiaf artists tend to draw the Stark family. And because I am most interested in Arya I have talked about her in this meta. I have put the meta under cut so that if people aren't really interested in this, they can skip it.

I don't understand the genetics of a mixed race family of starks where only Jon/arya is dark skinned ( because Ned is imagined to be dark skinned) but Sansa/bran/Robb/rickon is pale or paler. Often, 80% of fanarts of every single fanartist follows this trend and when someone comments on it, and questions the fan artist on how and why this same style has become universal interpretation via implementing "death of the author" ( as one very recent defense puts it), the fan artist replies in a dismissive and defensive manner. The deflection of this very apparent problem ( and the implications of following the trend), is done by "uno reversing" the accusation of racism. This is absurd because when it is pointed out that something seems off with drawing the "plainer"Starks in a particular way, the intention isn't to single out and point fingers at one particular fan artist. One particular artist isn't doing this thing. The finger is being pointed at the trend of the style that dominates asoiaf fan art. Does this not strike anyone as odd that in 80% of these text interpreted fanart produced by most of the fan artists, the brown haired starks are darker than the red heads? The red heads who are said to be the prettier ones?

I am an Arya fan so i am going to talk about Arya here. Throughout the fandom at large whenever Arya Stark is talked of, it isn't done to analyze her motifs or themes or political importance. No speculation is made of a future that may position her in an office of considerable political power. No, fandom at large talks of Arya as if she were a brute, who kills people needlessly ( see raceforironthrone's meta on how the harrenhal guard didn't need to be killed), and is in need for constant supervision because she is volatile and therefore politically incompetent. There is also this running criticism of Arya Stans using too pretty face casts for her or yassifying her in fanarts, because to the larger fandom Arya is the ugly one. Now here's the thing, the slogan of let little girls be ugly isn't preached for Lyanna Stark. No one is saying let this dead teen be ugly even when Grrm in explicit terms has said Arya looks like Lyanna. No for some reason even when numerous characters talk of Arya looking like and behaving like Lyanna, the fandom at large only acknowledges that she has a spirit and sense of justice similar to Lyanna's. But they would bend over backwards to negate anything that says Arya looks like Lyanna. Why is that?

Then anything relating to Arya being married or having an heterosexual relationship and children born out of the relationship is mocked. I remember a poll where someone very cheekily gave an option specifying that Arya having non bastard kids with Gendry. I don't know if I had read it wrong but the way it was worded- using the term non bastard children...to me it personally seemed like a jab at what arya Stans speculate about Arya possibly marrying and having a family of her own.

I don't think there is anything woke or anything traditionally disruptive in trying to dismiss any and all possibilities of a GNC woman marrying a man and having kids. Sure on the surface, lumping on Arya various sexual identities other than heterosexuality and theorizing that she wouldn't want to have the whole husband/kids routine is very diversifying but if one is to go beyond the surface, then what is to be said about the hesitance of even considering that a GNC woman might enter a heterosexual relationship? What aesthetics prevent people from considering a GNC woman having a regular shmegular life? A GNC woman's sexuality perhaps isn't affecting her gender noncorfomity. ( this isn't to say that a fan can't see or project onto arya their own reality/identities that make them resonate with her, I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about the fandom blatantly ignoring Arya checking Gendry out and how much throughout the text family plays a significant role in her storyline. Her one "no that's sansa" cannot dismiss the possibility of her wanting to have a family in her twenties, especially as someone in whose story family plays a core theme.) ( there is also another sensuous scene in the bathhouse with jaqen but uhh...yeah I am not really sure how to talk about it).

So all in all a girl considered ugly by the fandom is often treated as being sexless,and is considered a volatile hotheaded brute and this girl when drawn with her sister is drawn considerably darker. Does this not strike anyone as alarming? Also where there is a discourse on if Arya is ugly or pretty, there is no doubt that Sansa is the prettiest of all the Starks, even Catelyn. Why is it that in the interpretation or via death of the author', Sansa is never drawn darker than Arya? In a mixed family why is Sansa never shown with a darker skin than the rest of brown haired/ red haired starks, not once? Individual interpretation and yet it seems like these individual interpretations have been same all through these years. Now yeah, Lyanna is drawn with darker skin sure but then again her looking like Arya is dismissed and it seems like there is a tendency to connect her with Sansa. Any criticism in this exercise is once again mocked or dismissed.

#valyrianscrolls #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #arya stark #Cersei lannister #Bran stark #Tyrion lannister #lyanna stark #robb stark #Ned stark #catelyn Tully #maegaery tyrell #stannis baratheon #melisandre #samwell tarly #meera reed #jonerys #gendrya #asoiaf #jaime lannister #brienne of tarth #jaime x brienne #asoiaf fanart #asoiaf art #game of thrones #a song of ice and fire #got

[regulusrules]

MASTERLIST + FAQ

— FICS IN PROGRESS

My breaths are run by your compass [T] [20K+] (bbc merlin) — julius caesar AU. Merlin stabs Arthur and it’s all Arthur’s fault.

— COMPLETED FICS

I will turn your fear into a handful of dust [G] [1K] (bbc merlin) — growing old together fluff fic.

My heart is readily yours [T] [11.7K] (bbc merlin) — s05e03 the death song of uther pendragon divergence. Ghost!Uther stabs Merlin in his heart, and Merlin collapses in Arthur’s arms. (my forever favourite creation)

To you I swear my solemn oaths [G] [3.8K] (bbc merlin) — s04e03 the wicked day divergence. magic reveal right before Arthur’s coronation.

In the Air We Breathed [G] [1K] (the last hours series) — Will’s POV of James’s wedding while Jem was playing the violin.

Veiled Emotions [T] [50K] (harry potter) — separate one-shots of the marauders era, mainly Sirius and Regulus-centric. You can also find them posted separately here.

— MERLIN FIC RECS

I literally live to recommend the beautiful works of my fellow writers. It’s mostly Merlin fics, but sometimes you will find other fandoms. You can either follow my blog or go directly to this tag → #regulusrules recs

— METAS

If you’re new here, first thing, welcome! You’ll find me rambling 99% of the time about scenes, tropes and general fandom things. You can find all these in this tag → #regulusrules metas

— ASKS

I’m VERY open to asks! I love tumblr moots. Find all rambles, ask games, metas about my fics, or just random asks in this tag → #regulusrules answers

— FAQ

Do you accept fanart for your fics?

Yes! Fanarts are more than welcome. I will even feature them inside my fics. And if you want to create a cover/specific fanart for any fic, you can contact me through asks or messages and I’ll provide you with extra information about my personal reflection on it.

Can I add your fic on another platform?

No. If I wanted to, I would have. Do not add my works to any website. (Wattpad, Goodreads, Storygraph, etc.)

Do you accept translations for your fics?

Yes. Translations are more than welcome, but must remain on AO3. Also, apparently this needs to be said now, but I only accept human-made translations. Do not feed my work into AI machines to translate them. I do not approve of ANY use of AI in connection with my writing.

Can I download/bind your fics?

It’s up to you, but preferably please no. I don’t want these fics to be everywhere, but I can’t totally refuse because I understand the value of these fics to you. However, if you are binding them, 1. let me know and 2. bind them only for yourself. I do not allow any monetary profiting of my work. If you find someone selling my fics, please contact me.

Can I follow you if I’m one or any of the following: antisemitic, islamophobic, zionist, jkr-supporter, genocide-approver, racist, sexist, homophobic, disrespectful-of-any-human-being-for-any-reason?

No.

Can I call you by your name? And what pronouns do I address you with?

Yes, you can call me LJ! My pronouns are she/her. I’m more than happy to get to know my readers and fellow writers, so feel free to swoop in and contact me anytime.

welcome to the wonderworld of regulusrules✨

#masterlist #oh lord FINALLY she did it #regulusrules #fanfics #reblog #fandom #fanfic recs #asks #metas #ao3 #faq post #intro post #get to know me #regulusrules recs #pinned post

[forabeatofadrum]

Hello everyone! It's Sunday, again. Thank you @ivelovedhimthroughworse (although it didn't show up in my activity page, I just happened to see it on my dash), @blackberrysummerblog and @bookish-bogwitch for the tags!

It's more MCD time! Matt has his priorities:

My year goes on as usual. I go home for Christmas and when I go back to school, two things are discussed. First off, the Mage apparently got kidnapped over Christmas, and he had to be saved by Simon Snow. That’s cool or whatever, but the second thing is more prominent. When you’re in 6th year, Watford also starts preparing you for your future. We all need to attend a mandatory class in our first week after the vacation.

There actually was an entire scene with John and Leslie about the Mage getting kidnapped, but it added absolutely nothing. I even had Johnson make a meta comment about it adding nothing. In the end I just cut it and reduced the whole Mage kidnapping part to this one sentence, because honestly, that's more likely in Matt's world. Yeah, the leader of his world got kidnapped, but he also has a future to think of, you know? I might share the cut part in that one WIP writing tag game that I have been tagged in. I just haven't gotten to that one yet because *gestures around* the whole aunt dying thing.

And now, the weather: @quizasvivamos @coffeegleek @caramelcoffeeaddict @raenestee @tectonicduck @nightimedreamersworld @urban-sith @thnxforknowingme @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @cerriddwenluna @confused-bi-queer @that-disabled-princess @special-bc-ur-part-of-it @larkral @cutestkilla ​ @wellbelesbian ​ @artsyunderstudy ​ @martsonmars ​ @facewithoutheart ​ @shrekgogurt @rockitmans @bitbybitwrites @whatevertheweather @theotherhufflepuff @shame-is-a-wasted-emotion @esilher @kurtsascot @nightimedreamersghost

#tagged in #six sentence sunday #also im probably gonna shuffle my tag list soon

[buckybarnesss]

laura hale: darling, dearest, dead

welcome to where i care way too much about teen wolf in the year 2023.

i have no shame.

i've been working on this meta for a few weeks now and it’s definitely grown past its original scope. at first, i just wanted to do a deep dive into the weirdness around laura’s death but of course that expanded as i sat down and hashed out my thoughts.

@renninflight 's tags on one of my posts really gave me the push for this because i've apparently just been waiting for the opportunity to talk about the mysterious murder of laura hale

shoutout also to my teen wolf buddy and tumblr mutual of forever @dear-massacre our teen wolf talks definitely helped, probably wormed their way in here and this wouldn’t have existed without you.

laura's death is the core mystery of the first season and i’ve always been intrigued by the circumstances surrounding it.

i’m definitely not the first to question the circumstances surrounding laura’s death but i’m going to put on my tinfoil conspiracy theory hat and discuss the events just prior to wolf moon and how laura hale haunts me the narrative.

buckle up buttercups this is long.

just to get this out of the way immediately, i need you to understand that teen wolf's plots and timeline were apparently written on a soggy napkin found crumbled up under the seat cushion of jeff davis's couch. season 1's story is the most cohesive but there wasn't a show bible for a long time, which explains its loose relationship with keeping consistent canon. this post on the teen wolf wiki from september 2013 says explicitly that some assistant was tasked with writing one. this would've placed it after 3a had aired but before 3b did. 

while i won’t be digging into the teen wolf timeline here, i will be working from my own understanding of it.

a lot of teen wolf is left to implication, inference and subtext as we the audience are locked into scott mccall's point of view and his knowledge of what's happening. this allows for scott to be ignorant about the world he unwittingly and unwillingly enters so that information can be doled out at a steady drip and the mysteries heightened.

that said, onwards to what has become my teen wolf magnum opus.

introduction: the dead girl

laura hale is the ultimate dead girl trope in teen wolf which is a show littered with the corpses of dead girls. it makes sense of course when you know she is the narrative sister of laura palmer of twin peaks fame. 

unlike laura palmer though, laura hale never gets to tell her story. she is dead before the show begins.her corpse is treated cavalierly by scott and stiles, desecrated by the argents and stripped of her personhood.

interestingly, david lynch’s daughter jennifer lynch not only a authored a spin off novel for twin peaks told from laura palmer’s perspective called the secret diary of laura palmer but also directed four episodes of teen wolf (silverfinger, i.e.d, perishable and codominance). 

it's a cool connection.

i like this quote from esquire about laura palmer and the creation of the dead girl trope:

“we don't see laura with any control over her circumstances. we meet her after she's been wrapped in a plastic bag and left to rot, which essentially leaves her narrative and legacy to be largely determined by those who are investigating her. we don't learn about laura through laura—we learn about laura by piecing together what she left behind.” 

laura hale’s murder also invokes a visual similarity to a real life beautiful dead girl as well.

elizabeth short.

elizabeth short is known to history as the black dahlia. her naked, posed, and bisected corpse was discovered in a vacant lot in january 1947. she was 22 years old. 

when betty bersinger discovered elizabeth that morning she thought she’d stumbled upon a mannequin. in a way, she had. the person elizabeth short was is often lost amongst the sensationalized headlines, salacious gossip and speculation surrounding her case. instead, she has become the perfect, posable victim unable to tell her own story.

elizabeth short is the template for all the dead girls in modern media. 

what makes laura hale different though is how she’s a non-character within teen wolf despite her death’s significance as the unpreventable, fixed event within the show’s universe.

laura hale has the most in common with the other dead beautiful girls erica reyes and paige krasikeva. each of them killed before their full potential could be realized their ghosts left to haunt the narrative.

as i said earlier though, the circumstances surrounding her death have always intrigued me. i’ve always believed there was a sort of convergence of events happening prior to wolf moon that led to the inciting incident of laura hale's murder. 

we’re even told this throughout the show if you’re paying attention. 

one of the things i always wished we’d gotten from teen wolf was more information about not just laura herself but what exactly she knew prior to her death but we can infer quite a bit. 

let’s take a look at what we do know.

a history lesson: drinking poison from the same vine

to understand what happened to laura hale when she was killed we have to step back and look at what happened before the first scenes of the show. 

in particular we have to take a look at peter hale, the argents and the alpha pack. this means revisiting visionary among some other relevant episodes.

visionary is probably one of if not the most central lore episode within the series and it also gives us a glimpse of both talia and laura hale while they were still alive.

laura herself is more of an afterthought in this episode as she's never named on screen. 

so what does visionary tell us about laura?

it tells us that she was already in a leadership position within the hale pack by this time and is clearly put forth as talia's natural, intended successor due to her very presence at the summit. it also tells us kali, ennis and deucalion knew laura hale personally even if it was a fleeting acquaintance. 

in the finer details of the episode we learn a few other things such as talia, laura and peter were all aware of the threat of the argents. we learn one of ennis’s betas was killed in retaliation for killing two hunters. the death of the beta seems very cruel and unusual as we learn that he was shot through the throat, his claws were ripped out and he was cut in half. 

the last point in particular is notable as there’s only one hunter we know of that cuts werewolves in half. 

gerard argent.

motel california is just a few episodes prior to visionary where it’s revealed that alexander argent killed himself in 1977 at the glen capri motel after being bitten. gerard claims it was deucalion that bit his brother which is how he justifies his actions in visionary.

is it the full truth? doubtful. maybe alexander argent was bitten by deucalion and maybe he wasn’t but gerard seems to believe he was and that is what matters. 

belief in the teen wolf universe is a real, tangible concept but it’s incredibly important to the narrative conceit of this episode. gerard and peter are both unreliable narrators who purposefully minimize their roles in the stories they tell. maybe they even believe their own lies to a degree.

what we know as the audience as it’s proven multiple times throughout the series is that gerard rejects the idea of peace and is known for being brutal and cruel in his methods. 

visionary also goes a long way to illustrate that peter hale has always been, you know, Like That. he skulks around the story even in his own version of events where he’s trying to minimize his own role in paige’s death.

i believe that the non-existence of laura in his story except for a throwaway mention about how laura told derek about the packs being in town is two fold. one, peter was jealous of laura’s position in the pack and two, his guilt over killing her. 

peter’s guilt is an interesting thing because he is first and foremost all about the survival of peter hale but he does care about those he perceives as his. for him, killing laura was something he regretted but was necessary so that peter could gain the alpha power. 

laura was a sacrifice. 

another thing about visionary is the absence of peter and talia’s relationship but who else would’ve told her about derek and what happened? talia isn’t surprised when she finds derek in the cellar. 

over the course of the show we do not get a lot about talia and peter’s relationship which is a thing that keeps me up at night but i don’t think it’s too far of a leap to conclude that talia knew her brother’s nature and probably saw it as useful in it’s own way so long as she was the one holding the leash. the way peter advises derek is probably not too far off from how he advised talia. 

there’s a tiny glimpse of this in season 4’s monstrous.

meredith walker is subjected to peter’s inner ravings while he’s comatose as they somehow connected mental frequencies.

there’s parts in there about how he’ll be a vengeful god and remake the supernatural of beacon hills in his own image and blah blah blah it all tracks for peter but the parts about talia are interesting not only because it gives us a glimpse into how peter perceived talia but also because he specifically name drops the argents as the threat. 

is it the full truth? no. peter subscribes to the from-a-certain-point-of-view version of the truth and we have to remember this is peter just after the fire. he’s comatose, horrifically injured and on some level he’s aware that most of his family is now deceased.

what looking at this gives us is peter’s perspective and what he latched onto post-fire thus creating the peter we meet.

“i predicted this. i told talia this was going to happen. something like this was going to happen. i said they were going to come for us. the argents. they’re going to come for us. they’re gonna burn us to the ground. they’re going to burn us to the ground. did she listen? of course not. did anyone listen? they listened to her. yes! say that everything was going to be fine. that we were all perfectly safe. but she made us weak! she made us weak. and what happens to the weakest in the herd? they get picked off by the predators. we used to be the apex predators. until talia turned us into sheep.”     

there is another key point about talia and peter that i think cannot be overlooked. the removal of memories. she took the memory of the nemeton’s location from both him and derek after their experiences there and she also took the memory of his tryst with corrine that resulted in malia’s birth. 

i think what these things together tell us is that peter hale is vengeful and resentful but not just towards the argents but also talia but talia is beyond his reach. laura isn’t.

the last player that needs to be examined is the alpha pack. visionary gives us a version of events of why deucalion is the way he is and it ends with him killing his beta marco absorbing his power. this in itself isn’t actually all that interesting as this was the foregone conclusion. 

when you combine it with what jennifer tells derek in the overlooked though it was just a few months after this she is attacked by kali at the base of the nemeton, which means the creation of the alpha pack was already underway mere weeks after deucalion is blinded by gerard.

we know talia hale was aware of what happened to deucalion along with gerard argent’s involvement so it would also stand to reason she would then be aware of the creation of the alpha pack. i cannot imagine it would escape her notice that both ennis and kali’s packs were decimated by their alphas and then they joined with deucalion. that seems like a cataclysmic event that’d get through the supernatural grapevine quickly. 

if talia knew then so did laura as she was like i said clearly talia’s successor.

the mysterious death of laura hale part I: who cut laura in half?

let’s revisit the scene of the crime to examine the absolutely hinky circumstances surrounding laura's death and what the hell was happening in the woods the night scott was bitten by peter.

if i learned anything from gil grissom the first piece of evidence is the body. this is how we and scott meet laura hale.

i don’t think it’s speculation to say that peter hale killed laura but it was gerard argent who cut her in half. 

in the season 2 opening episode omega we meet gerard argent and learn of his propensity to use a broadsword to cut werewolves in half but it is chris that gives scott the warning.

chris: "scott do you know what a hemicorporectomy is?"

scott: "i have a feeling i don't want to."

chris: "a medical term for amputating somebody at the waist. cutting them in half. takes a tremendous amount of strength to cut through tissue and bone like that."

this foreshadows what happens to the omega at the end of the episode but it reminds the viewer that we’ve already seen a corpse like that.

it may be a drop in the bucket compared to all the trauma scott has experienced since that night but i don’t think laura’s severed corpse is a sight he’s forgotten. which is what i believe argent is counting on here.

he knows what his father did. 

he’s intimidating scott as much as he’s warning him not just about lydia but also about his father’s impending arrival and what gerard is capable of. 

by this point chris knows kate broke the code by killing the hales in such a gruesome fashion but what does kate say when chris confronts her in code breaker?

chris: “i know what you did.”

kate: “i did what i was told to do.”

gee, i wonder who gave kate the carte blanche on killing the hales? i bet he also used paige’s death as a way to manipulate her as we see him do with allison. he was in town after all when paige was attacked by ennis and subsequently died. it's not a stretch to believe that a seasoned hunter like gerard would be able to spot a supernatural death cover up via animal attack.

the argents talk a big game about their women being leaders but gerard is the puppet master tugging on kate’s strings just like he did allison’s in season 2. this doesn’t minimize kate’s own sociopathy. kate can be a victim and a perpetrator.

we know from visionary that the argents have been known to operate around the beacon hills area to hunt but they don’t live there until chris and his family move there just prior to wolf moon.

i think we can infer that gerard ordered chris to move to beacon hills in response to laura hale being back in the area for the first time since the fire and i don’t think he aimed to just keep an eye on her.

there’s another overlooked aspect as to why gerard would be very interested in laura hale. he wants to cure his cancer via the bite. in fact, i wouldn’t be surprised if he would have offered her kate in exchange for the bite. 

sure, it’s speculative, but i think there are enough pieces to support it as a working theory.

unlike peter there is never a confession from gerard about his part in the crime so why am i certain he did it?

let’s go back to the body for a moment.

while there’s a lot of gore, most of the blood is on laura herself. 

there’s a significant lack of blood either around or underneath laura. with the amount of trauma we can see on her body there should be a bloody mess but there isn’t.

also notice how her arms are splayed out. it’s like she was dropped there.

she also doesn’t appear to be all that decayed so she’s still pretty, uh, fresh.

so again why do i believe gerard cut her in half if peter killed her?

not only can we infer in the subtext from the conversation chris has with scott in omega but looking at the cut on laura’s body it is too clean to be from being ripped in half by an animal or a werecreature. 

however, a person with a sharp, heavy sword with the know-how that we know does this? seems a bit more plausible doesn’t it?

also kate literally tells us that hunters did it. she doesn’t name gerard but she informs derek in the tell: 

“yes, your sister was severed into pieces and used as bait to catch you. unpleasant, and frankly a little too texas chainsaw massacre for my taste, but quite true. but here’s the part that’s really going to kick you in the balls. we didn’t kill her.”

neither the audience nor derek know if kate can be believed. i don’t think she’s lying here. she’s taunting but not lying.

why lie when she knows how badly this knowledge will hurt derek?

she goes on to add:

“found bite marks on your sister’s body derek. what do you think did that? a mountain lion?”

this i believe was a fib. were there bite marks? possibly, but more likely from savangers than peter taking a bite out of laura.

also the fact that laura’s lower half was found by joggers probably means it was visible from a path which gives some credibility to the idea that the hunter's strew laura’s corpse around the preserve. they wanted it to be found.

not only would two pieces be less heavy than a whole body but it just shows how they don’t care. laura isn’t a person to them. she’s vermin, she’s subhuman, she’s not worthy of respect. 

she’s no better than bait to other werewolves to them. 

they leave laura to rot.

notice how kate never refers to laura by name instead calling her “your sister” to derek. kate lured derek out with insults towards laura but this one is the greatest of them all. kate is refusing laura hale’s personhood.

the final reason i don’t believe peter tore laura in half is we’ve seen how peter kills. claws from behind are consistent with how he goes at derek at the end of heart monitor and jackson in master plan or throat slashing which we see in the tell with the video store clerk, kate in code breaker and jennifer in lunar eclipse. 

or he mauls them viscerally like we see with the mute in the benefactor.

a creature of habit he calls himself.

in none of peter’s kills either as alpha or as a beta does he tear someone in half.

while peter hale is a dramatic king and doesn’t mind getting his hands bloody, i think he’d be offended if someone accused him of tearing laura in half. 

the mysterious death of laura hale II: why does peter kill laura?

speaking of peter, why did he kill laura?

the obvious answer is for the alpha power so he could fully heal..he says as much in wolf’s bane.

peter: “yes, becoming an alpha, taking that from laura pushed me over a plateau in the healing process.”

but with peter hale nothing is ever so simple. there’s always layers.

in alpha pact, peter gives derek this speech when he’s winding derek up about how to heal cora:

“you know, normal wolves never abandon an injured member of the pack. they care for it. they even bring it food from a kill and then regurgitate it into the mouth of the injured wolf. they even give it physical and emotional comfort by intensely grooming it. in a way they can do more than just ease pain. they can be instrumental in healing their own."

as i mentioned earlier, i think peter not only holds a lot of resentment towards talia for what he perceived as inaction but also towards laura.

after the fire, laura did what cora says in visionary they were taught to do when hunters find them.

cora: "waiting. hiding. that's what we're told to do when the hunters find us. hide and heal."

in all the trauma and grief, laura did the only thing that she could reasonably do in response to such a horrific tragedy. she packed up her little brother who she’d suddenly become the guardian of and put an entire continent between them and beacon hills.

in doing so she left behind peter. i don’t blame her for leaving beacon hills. she was reacting to the threat of the hunters by trying to protect what little was left of her family and herself.

you have to put on your own oxygen mask before you can help others.

however, in leaving peter behind he was left to not only slowly go mad but he was also left vulnerable.

peter may have felt laura not only abandoned him as a member of the pack but abdicated her right to be the alpha.

derek tells scott in riddled:

“my family didn’t just live in beacon hills.they protected it.”

laura left beacon hills unprotected and she left peter alone. 

peter killed laura for the alpha power he always saw as rightfully his so he could heal and do the job he felt talia and laura were both too weak to do. 

while peter killed laura his culpability does come into question. 

in co-captain he performs the memory sharing ritual with scott which gives us a small glimpse of peter’s memories in the moments before laura’s death.

laura enters the scene looking around as if she hears something and then laura calls out his name in question. when peter turns he doesn’t look like a man in control with his eyes rolling, mouth agape. 

his actions look autonomous. peter the man is not at the wheel. 

if we take what peter says in wolf’s bane at face value about how he was being driven by pure instinct then we can surmise that the wolf was in control and acted on impulse and peter’s deepest thoughts and desires. 

the same ones we hear peter raving and ranting at meredith in monstrous. 

vengeance. 

i think the truth seems to be somewhere in the middle. 

peter often downplays his own involvement as a manipulation tactic. so while he lacked inhibition, killing laura for the alpha power was premeditated as we know his nurse was acting on his behalf. i do wonder though if laura’s body hadn’t been severed by hunters would peter have resurrected her? 

what’s a little murder between family members, you know? 

the mysterious death of laura hale III: the conspiracy

there are two conspiracies in season 1.

the conspiracy to kill the hales and the conspiracy to lure laura hale back to beacon hills.

about three months before her death laura was sent the picture of the revenge spiral on the deer which brought her back to beacon hills. to the territory she had left unattended for six years. in pack mentality, derek says that laura came back to beacon hills looking for the alpha and that she told him she was close to figuring something out about the fire. 

luring laura back to beacon hills wasn’t just about killing her. that was the endgame, but first peter needed her to do the leg work in finding the conspirators that set the fire.

the conspiracy itself hinges on one person since peter was still unable to do all of it himself due to him still recovering and we know nothing about her.

nurse jennifer plagues me. her motivations for helping peter were never given. she’s merely a tool to help peter enact his revenge.

all we have are theories and i have found precious few in my searches through old meta.

the most popular theory and i use that word loosely is that she was jennifer blake sowing the seeds for her eventual return to take on the alpha pack. i’ve considered this one and i think a skilled writer could make it work, but within the context we’re given i don’t think so. 

i do believe jennifer blake definitely scouted out beacon hills just as the alpha pack did but i don’t think she and nurse jennifer are one in the same. besides, we do see nurse jennifer’s corpse in code breaker. 

another theory i came across was that she’s a banshee compelled in the same way lydia was by peter. again because we have such little information there’s enough room for it to be possible but i doubt it. 

the conclusion i have come to about nurse jennifer is that she’s someone like dr. fenris and brunski from eichen house. while we do not learn about eichen house until season 3b dr fenris is introduced in wolf’s bane and is in the search for a cure. 

mostly, i think she’s simply a reference to nurse ratched from one flew over the cuckoo’s nest. her nurse's uniform is even anachronistic. 

but what was nurse jennifer’s role in the conspiracy?

she is the one who sent the picture of the deer spiral to laura hale to spur her to come back to beacon hills. nurse jennifer is also the one who sent allison the text to come to the school during night school. like laura, nurse jennifer did a lot of footwork for peter to make his plans work and it’s a damn shame we’ll never know why.

the mysterious death of laura hale iv:  the fixed point

laura’s death is what i think of as a fixed point in the universe of teen wolf. the idea of which is something i shamelessly took from doctor who.

in doctor who a fixed point is considered a lynchpin of the structure of ordered history. they cannot be altered as any attempts to do so would unravel linear time. 

laura hale’s death is that fixed point. it was unavoidable, unpreventable. poor laura hale doomed by the narrative.

in the events surrounding the murder of laura hale there are two more players i haven’t really discussed. they exist on the periphery but are no less important. 

doctor alan deaton and the nemeton.

cora says this in visionary:

"they keep us connected to humanity but they're a secret even within the pack. sometimes only the alpha knows who the emissary is. derek and i had no idea about deaton."

as talia’s successor laura would’ve had to know who their pack���s emissary was.

this is confirmed in fury when deaton not only insults derek to his face but reveals that he made a promise to talia to help her children and derek recalls laura mentioning deaton indirectly as some kind of advisor. 

i say indirectly because if laura had told derek explicitly that deaton was someone who could help and advise than he wouldn’t have suspected him as the alpha in season 1. 

did laura see deaton at all during her time in beacon hills? i would say it’s probable but i get the impression laura played her cards close to her chest. deaton was very unnerved by what was happening and with laura’s death probably concerned for his own wellbeing. 

deaton doesn’t reveal himself to derek because he has no idea if derek’s the one who killed laura or not. there’s no established relationship between the two for trust to go either way. 

truly the greatest villain of teen wolf is miscommunication, but i digress.

now here comes the part where i put on my tin foil conspiracy theory hat. i believe laura was killed near or at the nemeton. 

an unintended and unacknowledged sacrifice.

peter may not have consciously remembered its location, but who's to say it didn’t draw him there. 

we know from jennifer’s speech in the overlooked that the nemeton had a small spark of power from paige’s death. it was enough power to keep her alive after kali left her for dead so it isn’t difficult to believe it could’ve drawn peter to it as well. 

we know gerard knows its location despite what he tells allison about him not remembering. i don’t believe that geriatric bastard anymore than i believe peter as peter is able to find the nemeton easy enough because he shows up to kill jennifer there.

now, i have zero proof of this. it’s all speculation from vibes and what we see in lunar eclipse but considering laura’s body was moved from wherever she originally died and was severed it’s possible. 

it’s easy to imagine a scenario where laura finds peter at the nemeton where he kills her and leaves her body where it fell. later, gerard and his hunters discover her corpse and in frustration and anger at his plan falling through, gerard decides to use laura as bait for either the werewolf that killed her, derek or whatever other werewolves come along. waste not, want not after all. 

either way an alpha’s blood is spilled there giving the nemeton just a little bit more power. 

in lunar eclipse allison, scott and stiles perform a proxy ritual sacrifice to find out the location of the nemeton so they can rescue their parents. it’s successful, but only because the nemeton allows them to know its location. 

in revealing itself to them it chooses them as its champions and.it’s magic takes them back to the night scott was bitten, to the fixed point in the teen wolf universe. 

laura hale’s death.

haunting the narrative: laura hale’s uneasy ghost

“and so, the woman dies. the woman dies so the man can be sad about it. the woman dies so the man can suffer. she dies to give him a destiny. dies so he can fall to the dark side. dies so he can lament her death. as he stands there, brimming with grief, brimming with life, the woman lies there in silence.”

by aoko matsuda, translated by polly barton

once the first season comes to a close and laura hale’s murder is solved she is no longer mentioned save a few precious times, but the ghost of laura lingers. 

laura haunts the narrative.

derek has forgiven many transgressions against himself and his person but he will never forgive peter for laura’s murder. her death underscores every single one of their interactions.

laura’s the specter that hangs between cora and derek. cora loses her sister twice and derek’s words “sorry to disappoint you” only speak to how he feels he cannot live up to the ghost of not only his mother but also laura.

this, however, is not the only way laura remains in the narrative. they allude to her in other ways. 

in anchors scott reprises the scene from wolf moon where he tells stiles they’re going to go out into the woods to find a dead body but in a reverse uno of wolf moon though, scott is able to save the naked hale girl in the woods and bring her back to her family.

at the beginning of party guessed, lydia has one of her banshee visions. if you pay attention you can catch a girl in the bleachers that doesn’t quite belong. in fact, she’s crying out distressed and frightened.

that girl is laura hale. 

while uncredited the actress looks a lot like haley roe murphy who played laura in the first season and the necklace around her neck has a red pendant that alludes to her alpha status.

lydia sees an echo of laura hale as a warning.

i like this shot in second chance at first line when scott is at the morgue. he pulls out the drawer containing laura's lower half and the pov for the shot is almost like laura is watching despite her upper half not being there.

the very last time we see laura’s body is after stiles and scott dig it up. 

from this new perspective, laura’s stare has gone from vacant to accusatory.

it’s a jump scare, the transition from laura as a wolf to laura as human. it’s meant to freak stiles and scott out and confuse them. 

what it’s always said to me though is how dare you.

whether or not it was intentional (and let’s be real this is teen wolf so it’s probably half and half if we’re being generous)  the murder of laura remains one of the most intriguing incidents on teen wolf and her being one of the most untapped characters.

i said earlier i wanted to know what laura knew before her death. what had she uncovered about the fire? had she learned about cora being alive? did she know about kate and derek?

the answer is that it doesn’t matter. It no longer matters because laura died. we can never know what she knew. 

in teen wolf it doesn’t matter because laura is a non-character while being the most important character of them all.

laura hale is the beautiful dead girl.

she is the inciting incident, the fixed point, the name unsaid and the spirit unexercised.

“an anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young-- a dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.”  lenore by edgar allen poe

#my blog #teen wolf #laura hale #teen wolf meta #thoughts on teen wolf #did i have a lot of thoughts? yes

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for saying I don't give a fuck about Red, White and Royal Blue?

Firstly, absolutely no hate to the show. I know that sounds contradictory to the title, but bear with me. I think the show is great in terms of concept and the fact that its an insanely popular mainstream piece of queer media.

However.

It bored me to tears and by the third episode I knew it wasn't for me. That's fine, it happens, I just stopped watching it and started another show instead.

Now here on Tumblr I run a pretty popular multi-fandom blog where I post ship content, meta, GIFs, fanfiction, fanart, ect. I have a lot of fandoms I create content for. I didn't want to make it seem like I was shitting all over the show, nor did I think anyone would notice/care that I wasn't engaging with it, so I didn't bother to make any sort of personal post to say I'd tried it but it wouldn't be part of my blog.

Wonder of wonders, I received an anon, one of my followers, asking if I'd watched it yet and when I'd be making 'stuff' for it. Presumably fanart or GIFs. I answered it and just cheerfully/politely said I'd given it a go but I was more interested in other stuff as of now.

Anon shot back with 'so you didn't like it?? Watch it again. Its really good. You need to stick with it, you'll like it.'

I just reiterated that, no, actually I'm pretty confident I won't, but I gave them a list of blogs I follow who've started posting about it so they could the content they want. They're just not getting it from me.

They were still pretty insistent, and after two more anons basically demanding I watch the show and insisting I'll love it and kind of vagueing that I'll be a steaming turd of a person if I don't, I snapped a little and said;

I've tried to be polite about it, but to be quite honest I don't give a single fuck about RWRB. Its not my thing. I tried it, I didn't like it. I will absolutely not be making any content for it and I've got the tags blocked so I don't see it on my dash. I will not be watching it or making content for it and that's final.

Apparently I'm now a raging homophobe and either they alone or they and some friends are now sending me a smattering of anons calling me homophobic and trashing me for 'shitting all over strong gay media.' Which is laughable because all the ship content on my blog is queer. But.

I do actually feel bad for losing my rag and because the post was reblogged a handful of times by people who are into RWRB with a few comments about it being awkward and saying its cool I don't like it, but I don't have to say it publicly and I don't have to trash the show.

So AITA for that? I did lose my rag admittedly and I know I should've been politer, but my god, I simply do not care about the show.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[britcision]

Listen. If being mean to you guys wasn’t so much funnier than giving you exactly what you wanted, I swear I wouldn’t do it.

But it is. It really is.

As always, AO3 link is still in the first chapter!

First:

Previous:

Tag list: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikoyuii @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @eonic @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @arandomturd @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10

———————

Danger Twink Powers Activate

“Danger Twink is on the move!” It was Nightwing yelling it into the comms. It had to be, because not a damn one of the rest of them could have got through that sentence without laughing.

Oh, his voice was all joyful glee and Spoiler was soooo mad she left when she did because what the fuck is she missing, but the message was clear.

Things in the ballroom hit a flashpoint, and for some reason Danny was doing the shit kicking. She’d wonder what the fuck Jason thought he was doing, since he’d been in arm’s reach of the guy all evening, but.

Yeah. Last she saw, Croc was separating them. Apparently Danny took a little less kindly to that than you’d think.

“Report?” She asked hopefully, half wanting to be called back to the hall. She’d nearly reached Black Bat, but let’s be honest.

Ten, fifteen Riddler minions? Bat could finish them before she even got there.

Red Robin sounded annoyed, as he always did when one of them (usually Damian) jumped the gun on him.

“They were walking Jason Todd towards a bomb vest. His civilian friend took exception to that, and now he’s… Wing what would you call that?”

“If the kid was twice the size I’d call that a classic sumo stance but he’s a fucking twink so it’s never gonna… well fuck me.”

Red Robin picked up the narrative again, now deadpan.

“He’s stopped Killer Croc dead and lifted him off the ground. Might be a butchered judo throw.”

“Need me back in there?” Spoiler pressed, both fingers crossed even as she ran down a hall. She’d only gone down one flight, there was a balcony into the dining hall.

She could make it.

“Negative, Spoiler. Get to Black Bat, Robin make sure that machine can’t be activated. Signal?”

Fucker. She’d make Tim suffer for it once they were all out of costume.

“You’d better fucking record the fight,” she grumbled, even as Signal buzzed in, sounding almost out of breath.

“Close, just got another block to clear.”

“Would this be a good time to remind you all that Fenton is a meta?” Robin bit out, shades of sarcasm filtering all the way through the falsely conversational tone.

Spoiler damn near tripped as Nightwing cursed.

“Okay fucking what?” That was a little important to be skipped over.

“Shit, yeah, sorry Robin… we didn’t have time to fill you guys in, Robin thinks he saw Fenton teleport. But he’s not teleporting now,” Nightwing added quickly, the frown clear in his voice.

As was Robin rolling his eyes.

“Abnormal strength is one of the most common meta abilities, in case you’d forgotten. Watch closely for the rest of his power set.”

Red Robin cut across them both, voice sharp. New factors always put him on edge.

“Robin saw, or Robin thinks he saw? Can we confirm this?”

Which, ouch, Red Robin might need to check his room for traps for a while.

Spoiler flinched, even through a grin. As much as it sucked for them, it was good fun for her when the Robins squared off. If either ever asked for help, she’d be happy to provide.

“He thought he saw, but the timelines didn’t match up. It was maybe three minutes before we bumped into you, they couldn’t have crossed the hall in time,” Nightwing explained gently, trying to keep the peace.

Robin clearly already had vengeance on his mind.

“I saw them all disappear, Nightwing, it is hardly my fault if the rest of you are incompetent! Black Bat agreed,” he added almost sullenly, and oh Spoiler could see the pout now.

And hear the faintest hint of smugness under the last declaration. Poor kid still had such a hard time accepting anyone believed in him.

Might have helped if he spent less time insisting that he was better than everyone else and they were all beneath him, but hey, League of Assassins training didn’t include humility.

Not for the heir to the Demon Head, anyway. Black Bat managed just fine.

And added in her two cents pretty much immediately, backing Robin up.

“Agreed. May not be strict teleportation, but Fenton has meta abilities of some kind. Shadows?” She asked, and the chat went silent for a moment, clearly waiting on Signal to weigh in.

His sigh was as resigned and tired as could be imagined.

“I’m not going to know until I get a look at him, guys, you know that. Might be cool if he does though, it’d be nice to have another meta on the team,” he added thoughtfully.

Robin tutted, but before he could voice his opinions of that Red Robin butted in again.

“Current circumstances may indicate that Fenton at least isn’t averse to conflict, but that doesn’t mean he’s on the right side. All that can wait for now, do you have an ETA, Signal?” He asked, clearly still typing away in the meantime.

Yeah, keeping the bats on task was a little like herding cats. They’d get the job done (and look good doing it), but keeping the comms cleared of banter was just never gonna happen.

“I’m outside, can’t see anyone at first glance. Want me to lock the place down?” Signal replied, and Spoiler sighed.

Bringing Signal in after dark always felt like cheating. Boy got OP in all of the shadows. Even if there might be someone else playing in them tonight.

Red Robin ignored her comment, still all business.

“Scan for Two Face or any of his crew first, go a block or two over. He may have been planning the initial attack. Can you cover up the damaged windows?

She could hear Signal sucking air through his teeth. A habit they’d all tried to break him of, if only for the truly ratty way it crackled over comms.

“I can up the lights inside, but not if I’m a block away. Priorities?”

“Scan first. Black Bat, Spoiler and Robin, when you’re done assist Signal. We have things handled in here.”

“And I’m recording it for you Spoiler, pinky promise,” Nightwing added gleefully, and she really wanted to kick him. “I left a camera high before joining the fun. Found Riddler yet Little Red?”

“Call me that again, Discowing.”

“Uh, that was a have you found the Riddler, Red Robin?”

“Not yet. It’ll go faster if you all shut up and do your jobs.” Red Robin still sounded actually annoyed rather than having fun, and Spoiler snickered.

“He’s worried his new best friend will be in danger,” she sang into comms, launching herself down a staircase and landing neatly with her knees planted on the shoulders of a running goon.

The burly woman toppled and Spoiler smacked her head off the floor for good measure, pulling out her zip ties.

“Civilians in danger is supposed to worry us, Spoiler,” Red Robin sniped back and she sighed again.

Yeah, okay, he had a bug in his ass. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to anyone either. Riddler must have bought the good encryption today.

“Yessir Red Robin. Shutting up,” she agreed with a one finger salute he’d never see, then continued on.

Missing all the fun just because the boys didn’t want to share. Wasn’t that always the way?

**

Honestly, if it hadn’t been Killer Croc Jason might not have suggested going rogue. Riddler’s guys carried guns, and even without the man himself around any spray would probably catch a hostage.

But Croc was a good guy, as weird as that might seem to say about a rogue. He’d been dealt a crappy hand, and while he wouldn’t shy away from violence on his own account, he had a kind heart.

He’d helped Roy get clean, and curbed Jason’s own more destructive tendencies in the past. Croc kept almost but not quite getting out of the life.

And, as expected, even as the big guy hauled himself to his feet he roared at the tensed goons.

“You lot get the fuckin’ bats, I can handle a scrawny little shit!” Slitted eyes narrowed as he turned to find Danny, who grinned back.

“Y’know, you’d be real surprised how often I hear that,” Danny snarked, shaking out his shoulders.

Jason resisted the urge to laugh, backing carefully away from the pair and the Riddler goons not already disarmed by Nightwing.

He wasn’t allowed to get in on the action in civvies, but he could throw the world’s clumsiest punch if none of his siblings were looking.

He could hear them over his comms, hurriedly coordinating, but for now he zoned them out. Better to focus on Croc and Danny.

Croc chuckled softly at Danny’s remark, flexing his claws.

“And yer still here. Is that what I’m supposed to get from that?” He asked in a low, rumbling voice. Danny just shrugged cheerfully.

“Or that I’m a habitual problem on purpose who never learns his lesson. Either’s good, really.” Spreading his feet to shoulder width apart, he flexed his knees and raised both hands.

Killer Croc actually laughed at that, ignoring the Riddler goons now firing up towards the ceiling.

“Shoulda stayed down on the floor, kid. Nobody’s gotta get hurt today,” he growled, which Jason felt was frankly unfair.

“As the guy who was being led to a bomb vest, I’m good with an intervention,” he quipped, raising both hands innocently when Croc shot him a look. “Man exploding hurts, I dunno if you’ve tried it.”

Jason had. He was mostly okay joking about it.

From the sudden worried look Danny shot him, maybe that “mostly” showed through a little too much.

Right. Because Danny still didn’t know how he’d died. Hopefully still didn’t, anyway.

Before he could try and work out what to say, or to send or whatever, Croc lunged at Danny.

Jason expected him to dodge. Danny was built like a Robin, lean and slender, and from what Jason had seen so far almost always smaller than his opponents.

Definitely smaller than Killer Croc.

Danny didn’t dodge. Tensing in place, he met Croc’s charge dead on. And stopped it in its tracks, not even sliding back across the floor.

And yeah, Jason was gonna have to stop being surprised every time the future Ghost King flexed, he’d gotten there by kicking ass but this was the first time Jason had seen him fight.

He was gonna enjoy it.

Croc looked just as stunned as Jason, both wrists caught in Danny’s hands as the kid grinned up at him.

“Blowing up definitely sucks, 0/10 don’t recommend,” he agreed with a smirk, shifted his grip, and tossed Killer Croc across the floor.

The large meta threw himself back to his feet, an almost growling chuckle breaking free.

“You’ve got some moves, kid, I’ll give yer that,” he rumbled, closing the distance a little more carefully, now wary of Danny’s hands.

Jason was dimly aware of Dick kick flipping his way around in the background. There was already a lot less gunfire. And while he’d usually be kibitzing, there was a new show on today.

Killer Croc vs Danger Twink, ten rounds no waiting.

**

The gala hall descended into madness faster than Bruce could ever have anticipated. If he’d been concerned when Jason had been singled out, it was only worse when the bomb vest appeared.

Jason would likely have been fine; none of the bats would let him get seriously injured and hells, Jason could have disabled the vest himself.

Bruce could see the wiring from his spot on the floor, apparently completely forgotten by all as Croc faced off against that scrungly fucking kid.

Danny Fenton, whoever he was, was reckless, dangerous, and clearly didn’t care what happened to those around him.

Danny Fenton wouldn’t let Jason be trapped in a bomb vest. Would put his own life on the line to prevent that if necessary, wrestling with a gigantic cannibalistic meta.

Danny Fenton was almost certainly a meta himself. Even Batman couldn’t throw Killer Croc around like that.

It was hard for Bruce to maintain his usual analytical detachment, watching as Killer Croc took a wide swipe. Danny ducked away, still grinning, bright as anything.

It was always hard when something involved Jason. The presence of a new meta on complicated things further.

Bruce wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, though part of him wanted more than anything to at least push his comms back in and check in with the children.

Nightwing was present and had already disarmed a good chunk of the goons, which meant there had to be more outside. They wouldn’t send him in alone if there was another choice.

Croc’s order had at least kept the gunfire high will Nightwing fucked around on the pillars. As usual he was having far too much fun for the severity of the situation, but Bruce couldn’t fault him that.

There were far too many surly protectors of the night, and he’d do what he could to keep Dick from ever being one of them.

Not least because there were only so many good brooding gargoyles around.

The man was still an effective crime fighter, and Bruce always appreciated the chance to watch him work. It was the only good thing about being stuck in civilian wear.

Jason would usually agree, he was the only one who hated being out of the fight even more than Bruce or even Damian, yet… if Bruce dragged his attention away from Killer Croc, his boy looked almost happy.

Deeply entertained, cheering Danny on from the sidelines. At least he was keeping out of the fight himself.

Right up until two more of the Riddler’s goons advanced on him, directed by Tablet Goon.

“Fools! Just bring the boy here, let Croccy deal with that pest! And take down that bird!”

Bruce tensed, wishing there was something more direct he could do. Red Robin and Oracle would both be hard at work cracking the tablet, and he’d never out pace them.

Still, there had to be something. Nightwing alone clearly wasn’t enough to scare Riddler off, so whatever plans they’d had were still a danger.

Jason didn’t even seem to notice the burly couple now advancing on him as he watched the fight, which was unusually careless.

Danny must be a worse influence than Bruce had thought. Or was it intentional? Blunting Jason’s sharp senses and telling him it dulled the pit?

Nightmare scenarios built themselves through Bruce’s head, even more as the large woman grabbed Jason by the shoulder. He visibly startled and tried to pull away, swinging a punch of his own.

Clumsy. Apparently untrained. Good. There was a chance his surprise was also an act, and Bruce almost felt bad for his suspicions.

But no, he knew Jason better than anyone. He could tell when Jason was or wasn’t faking. He was just still quick on his feet, clever as always.

Unfortunately there were too many goons for Nightwing to be of much help to his brother. He was keeping the guns high, striking with his batarangs to knock weapons from their owners’ hands.

He couldn’t get free to get to Jason.

And Jason couldn’t fight to the best of his abilities, even if he had already given both goons a bloody nose each. He landed a couple more hits before a third goon hurried over, catching him from behind.

Part of Bruce regretted telling Jason to stay visible. If he’d known he was going to be targeted… but no, the other guests would surely have noticed if he disappeared.

There was something almost like panic on Jason’s face as he was lifted, but no, that would be part of the act. Red Hood could take twice as many in under a minute.

Maybe excitement? Maybe upset that he wouldn’t be able to see the rest of the fight? Or that he couldn’t intervene when Danny needed him?

Danny was still fighting with Killer Croc too, utterly oblivious that the one he was trying to protect was being dragged away.

Untrained. With some experience, certainly, but no formal schooling to raise his situational awareness.

Bruce added it to his notes on the young man. There was a chance Danny had a little vigilante experience, in sleepy Amity Park.

Probably nothing more than some human muggers or gangsters. Nothing that would have prepared him for someone like Killer Croc.

It was almost a shame, really, the kid was quippy enough to be a Robin, bantering with Croc between grabs and punches. Light on his feet too, darting in to strike himself between blows.

Perhaps he’d befriend Dick as well. Or Tim. Either may be able to help him away from whatever bad habits he’d fallen into.

At the very least, keep him from dragging Jason down after him. His boys might be a good influence on the young meta. Would he be too old to talk to Duke?

And unfortunately his lack of experience was beginning to tell too, Bruce’s breath catching as Croc finally got a hand around the boy’s throat.

Danny was lifted from the ground, then slammed bodily into the floor. A startled squeak punched out of him, making him sound painfully young and something in Bruce lurched.

No matter what else he was, what kind of trouble he got into, that boy was the same age as his sons. Had jumped into a fight he couldn’t expect to win for his son.

They need to do something.

**

Danny barely even registered Jason’s message when it brushed across him, the tension of that ready-ready-ready sparking a moment of actual fear.

Barely there, gone in a second, but it slammed back into something Jason had said earlier on and Danny knew he had to go.

Before they got far enough he couldn’t reach. Before they could put Jason, the kid who blew up, in a fucking bomb vest.

Because that was what happened to the second Robin, wasn’t it? No one knew for sure, but the Joker liked to crow about it when he was particularly riled up.

Even if Danny hadn’t believed it before, the second he felt Jason’s heart stop seeing the vest gave it credence.

And yeah, Danny was just not gonna think about how quickly he’d gone back to business as usual, especially not to be jealous? Cuz nothing good that way lay.

Fucking Gotham. If Jason had lived pretty much anywhere else, getting out of the game woulda gotten him far enough from explosives to not need to face that trigger.

It cast a shadow over what was supposed to be just some fun, a fight in his human form for a change. Just a chance to rattle the batkids and get his ass hauled up to the stage beside Jason.

Because that? That was serious. That wasn’t happening.

Nobody was going to shove his Knight’s death in his face on Danny’s watch. No matter how much Jason’s aura had settled, a constant brush of gleeful-excited-kick his ass.

It didn’t erase the memory of that one heartbeat of dread that froze Danny’s core.

Although since he could kinda see Nightwing bouncing around from the corner of his eye, that wasn’t likely to be a Danny-only problem.

Maybe he could play Match The Wayne To The Bat once that damn vest was out of play.

He was almost having fun again, enjoying the experience of getting into a fight as a human, of not having a secret identity to protect.

No one in fucking Gotham cared about some ghost hero from Amity Park, not even if they were about to look him up. They had his name, his damn parents would tell them the rest.

It was nice to see just what his human body could do, rolling away from claw strikes and hitting back against tough scales.

And then he heard Jason swear. Felt the tug and sudden emptiness as he was pulled away between them.

Attention suddenly divided, he didn’t realise Croc’s hand was on his neck until he’d already hit the floor.

**

Jason didn’t consciously will the gun to his hand. It never quite got to the mental act of wanting it to appear.

He just heard his king make a noise of pain and his struggling hand closed around a pistol grip that wasn’t quite real. Not yet.

A startled glance showed nothing there, but he could feel the sense of the gun, just waiting for that final act of want.

It was an effort of will to resist, especially as he was being wrestled up to the stage.

Which had been part of the plan. Get close enough to provide backup for Bruce, see if he could knock the tablet somewhere Dick could get it, whatever.

He wasn’t actually struggling, and probably wouldn’t until they actually tried to put the vest on him. That, yeah, he was gonna pass on, but if he got close enough he could disarm it.

He did manage to wrench around enough to see Croc scrape Danny back out of a now cracked section of floor.

Knew he wasn’t controlling the sudden flare of rage-concern-protect-protect-How Dare He, because every ounce of his self control went to not closing his hand around the gun.

He’d left it at home, extremely deliberately. Under lock and key in his own gun safe, in his own safe house, before even going to the manor.

Fun new things to learn about being a halfa, adding this one to the list. Nobody said anything about the damn gun being able to teleport.

(Not that he was complaining. It was damn convenient, and a decent substitute for the All Blades. Hopefully having two weird magic pact weapons wasn’t gonna cause interference.)

Not summoning it got even harder when Danny reached back, brushing safe-fine-worry-now what even as Croc began dragging him after them, towards the front.

Jason hesitated for a heartbeat, not sure how to answer. Not even sure what his options to answer were, or how complicated he could make it.

So far it had mostly been emotions, intent, and there were limits to what you could really say without words. It was great for clarifying and expanding a message, but to plan?

Yeah, limited was the generous way to put it.

Why was Danny worried now? This was part of the plan, getting them up to the front.

Danny didn’t… feel hurt? Even as he rag-dolled in Croc’s grip, there wasn’t a trace of pain or even discomfort, and maybe Danny could hide that but Clockwork said he’d always know.

It was kinda his job. So what the fuck was Jason missing?

Scanning the room, his confusion only grew. Nightwing was making his way through the goons with batarangs and bolas, and most of them hadn’t switched to “help our fallen comrades” yet.

Bruce was still on the floor, completely forgotten. The rest of the hostages were fine, also on the floor, mostly quiet. No meat shields in sight yet.

His confusion must have spread across, because he felt Danny’s swell to match it, and then another gentle brush.

Death-protect-won’t hurt you

Jason tensed again, wondering where the fuck Danny thought the Joker was, and then remembering… Danny didn’t know. They’d never talked about how he’d died.

Specifically avoided it, actually. So what…

All on its own, his gaze landed on the bomb vest. Now discarded on the floor, the goons who’d been carrying it being harried by Nightwing and scolded all around by Riddler’s tablet, also on the floor.

Had. Had Danny felt that moment of fear? Recognised what it was?

Fucking Jason had barely even felt it, had made his usual jokes about it that made his family groan. It was practically routine.

Was Danny the only person in his life who wasn’t used to him coming face to face with his death?

Something grew painfully tight in Jason’s chest at the thought, but he soothed it down. Hell, if Danny had felt him wobble, that wouldn’t fuckin’ help.

He was fine. This was all going according to plan, though if Dickie had his say they might not even get through the whole plan.

Jason did his part, struggling just enough to keep all three of his goons engaged with dragging him to the front. Croc was also beginning to look annoyed, gesturing with Danny like he was a stuffed toy.

“What, yer boys can’t even handle one little bird, Eddie?!” He roared, leaping forwards to land heavily on the stage.

Jason’s awareness of Danny spiked, and he did his best to project wait-wait-safe-I’m fine. Wasn’t sure how to communicate “we can keep the same plan”.

Danny looked around again, eyes meeting his for just a moment, and Jason tipped him a wink between dramatic grimacing. Maybe flexed his arms just a little more than necessary.

Keep the show going.

Even left behind, he felt Danny’s aura soothe. Felt it wrap around him almost like a giant hand, like he was something fragile and soft.

Reassurance-trust-safe

Well, it was a start, but Jason would prefer Danny was having fun. That had been the whole damn point of getting involved.

It was a little tricky to work out how to share the feelings without changing his expression, but he settled for head butting the woman holding his left arm.

It gave him a moment where he could let the grin slip, a fierce satisfaction meeting the spray of blood.

Confident-happy-fun

Even if they got the bomb vest onto him, Riddler was easy. He had a pattern, a method he refused to deviate from, and while he was one of the more cerebral rogues?

He just wasn’t ready for the Red Hood brute force technique. There’d be clues in the vest, some complicated puzzle, but every puzzle had a cheat code.

Now the game was who finished the fight first, them or Nightwing.

**

Croc stomped up onto the stage, bending to scoop up the bomb vest with the hand not holding Danny by the neck.

Just gonna leave Riddler’s tablet yelling and swearing camera down on the floor.

Vibes. Danny might be new to town, but Riddler just wasn’t growing on him. Maybe it was all the armed goons.

Maybe it was just because he hadn’t even bothered to show up. Like, give a guy something to work with. At least Killer Croc got his own hands dirty.

Inspiration struck and Danny, reassured by Jason’s continuing cheerfulness, casually let his legs flop forward to tangle around Croc’s as he turned to rise.

The big guy didn’t fully trip, but he stumbled forward enough that Danny could use a quick moment of telekinesis to tug the bomb vest from his hand, sending it skidding across the floor towards Bruce Wayne.

If the guy was Batman, that’d be that problem pretty neatly solved. It should even look like Croc threw it by accident to any outsiders.

As if to sell the idea, Croc roared in frustration again, ripping Danny up and away from him and holding him at arm’s length.

“You are beginning to wear on my patience, kid,” he growled, eyes narrowed. Danny gave his best innocent grin back, clutching at the hand at his throat.

It hadn’t actually been cutting off his oxygen until now. Not that he needed it, it was just worth noting.

Remembering to struggle for air was the key.

“Aww and here I thought we were bringing the house down,” he teased, his voice coming out a little choked. Always helpful.

And being all the way up gave him a great vantage point to check on the rest of the room.

About half of the goons were down now, either twisted up or unconscious, and the rest were getting smarter. Or maybe the dumber ones had just gone down first.

They were hiding behind pillars and tables now, not out in the open where Nightwing could get them without coming down.

And coming down would put the civilians in the line of fire.

None of the civilians were making a break for it either, just sat in their groups on the floor not making a peep. Danny might think they were too scared to move if he hadn’t been in one of the groups.

As far as they were concerned, the outcome was pretty much guaranteed.

It was really, really fucking weird. But then, so was willingly living in this city and coming to these events, which were routinely attacked by costumed weirdos, so.

Croc interrupted his thoughts by grunting and tossing him aside, then stomping towards Bruce and the vest. Skidding on his back, Danny took advantage to snag the Riddler’s tablet as he passed.

Sure, he had no idea which of the bats would be trying to hack it or how they’d be doing it, but he knew what Tuck would want. The tablet itself if possible, VPNs turned off and wifi set to open if not.

He also turned the volume off before flipping it over and covering the camera. As much fun as giving a wave would be, Danny had Opinions about people who brought bomb vests to parties.

Opinions that had only gotten significantly stronger now that he had a suspicion of how Jason had died.

Yeah. They were gonna talk. Before they got to the halfa training if possible, because… yeah. If Jason hadn’t seen his ghost form yet, that was gonna suck.

Maybe he should have Jazz on standby.

**

Tucking himself more firmly into his nook in the ceiling, Red Robin swore into the comms as bullets clipped past about a foot away.

“Fuck’s sake Nightwing, could you not swing by while you’re taking fire?” He grumbled, most of his attention still fixed on his wrist computer.

He had the stream, was almost through to Riddler’s actual location, if he could just…

He completely missed Nightwing’s reply as his computer beeped, letting him know that the tablet’s VPN had just shut down.

He had everything. Full access to all files, location tracking data for the last month, even the search history.

Everything he’d have been scraping for evidence when the dust settled and he got the device itself in hand, just… laid bare. It almost felt like cheating.

Sticking his head out far enough to get a visual, he searched desperately for the tablet. It had been up on the stage, but Riddler’s background ranting was suddenly gone…

Red Robin’s jaw dropped. Slowly rose again as he swallowed, reaching up to tap his comms.

“Danger Twink has the tablet.”

The connection fell dead silent, the entire group quieting even in their own independent fights.

Shaking himself, Red Robin closed his wrist computer. They weren’t done just yet.

“Nightwing, I’m now free to join the party. See if you can’t get the kid away from those goons while I round up some stragglers. Spoiler, Black Bat, report?”

**

In a hallway closer to the kitchens, Spoiler rolled her eyes and rolled off the last goon, tugging out another set of zip ties.

Black Bat was already up and scanning the area, but there were no more sounds of running feet.

“Wrapping up here. Ten presents for the fuzz all tied with a bow. Want us to come and join you?” She asked hopefully.

Of course she was still missing the good stuff. Jason’s new boyfriend was fucking great, they’d have to restrain Bruce from pulling out the bat-doption papers before the end of the night.

Given half a chance the kid would probably pull on a suit of spandex and join them with his sense of self preservation… or lack thereof.

If he could learn to be discrete in public.

Red Robin, of course, crushed all her hopes to dust.

“Hold on that. Robin, report?”

**

Robin tutted, ducking under a kick and darting in, catching the bulky man off balance and taking him to the floor. Half a dozen quick strikes landed before they hit and the teen rolled away.

His opponent didn’t get up. Not that he had time to savour the victory before he had to roll away again, now dodging a hail of bullets.

“I’ll be done before they can reach me. Seven down, five to go and all progress on the machine is halted. I believe they intended to connect it to the power grid, those cables are now severed.”

The easiest way to make sure whatever the thing was remained inert. He wouldn’t have a chance to examine past the smooth silver casing until these fools accepted the inevitable and went down.

Knowing Riddler, at least one side would contain a touch screen with some insipid riddle that a dedicated toddler could solve.

Pass. If the man wanted a battle of wits with the bats, he would need to arm himself first.

And teach his men not to shoot at his own machines.

Taking cover briefly behind the case, Robin took a moment to assess the room. The remaining goons had all taken cover, and spread out too.

Inconvenient.

Almost worse than Red Robin’s patronising tones.

“Start the clock then Robin. Spoiler, see if you can’t prove him wrong. Signal?”

**

Signal sighed, rolling out his shoulders and flexing his shadows. They called him out of bed, then left him running around outside while they had all the fun.

“Area’s clear. If Two Face was planning something he’s scrapped it now. I found some skid marks but no clear tire prints.”

He dropped a pin on the location anyway; he or Oracle could check traffic cameras for the area later. Right now Bluebird was putting Oracle through her paces with a major chase across the city.

One day he’d kind of like to do a car chase. Changing the traffic lights, skidding round corners, running the bad guys down. That’d be cool.

He brightened up suddenly, remembering the agenda for tonight.

“Hey, want me to come in and get your civvies to safety RR?” If Nightwing was busy with goons…

**

“Not needed bud, sorry!” Nightwing called happily, dropping down from a pillar in front of the last gunman standing and kicking his gun away, jabbing Manson’s taser into his chest.

The guy jolted in a very satisfying way, interesting sparks sizzling across his skin. His escrima sticks wouldn’t do that.

And he finally got close enough to use it. With all the goons focused on him, it had been easy for Red Robin to take them by surprise.

A set of batarangs from behind, a couple bolas, and the only guns around were on the floor.

Which meant that all they had to worry about now was the three goons wrestling Jason, and Killer Croc himself.

Nightwing was kinda hoping he’d get the chance to take care of Croc. Their normal tasers didn’t work as well on his scaled skin, but they eventually got the point across.

This thing? Maybe he’d need to borrow it.

As Dick. Better make sure Manson didn’t see him using it in costume.

Which also meant not using it on Croc. Sighing to himself, Nightwing stuffed it back into a belt pouch and turned to survey the room.

At least all their remaining bad guys were now clumped together, up at the stage. Two of the goons were bleeding now, one from a broken nose and the other…

Fuck, did Jason bite a guy? Maybe he should have been watching that side of the action.

Any musing quickly shut itself down as Croc surveyed the room, bomb vest in one hand and Bruce Wayne in the other.

By the front of his shirt, not his neck, but then Bruce wouldn’t have put up a fight. Nightwing’s gaze immediately darted around, searching for the danger twink.

He’d focused on taking down the goons on the way to the kid because the opportunity arose, but he had this feeling that Danny Fenton was someone you always wanted an eye on.

**

“Fuckin’ useless,” Croc growled, scanning the room quickly and shaking his head. He might as well have come alone.

The last three of Riddler’s goons, still all needed to keep a struggling Jason restrained, were growing increasingly nervous.

The gunfire should have drawn the others in. At the very least someone should have called. And now they’d lost contact with Riddler too.

Danny was quite enjoying their confusion, the tablet now safely tucked in under his shirt. Whatever opinions Riddler might have about his bellybutton were his alone.

An eerie silence fell now that the gunfire had stopped, the hall that had once been buzzing with conversation now holding its breath.

Nightwing and Red Robin were both there, moving slowly, cautiously towards the stage. Having seen the Wayne family’s heights, Danny was gonna start playing guess the bat.

Red Robin? Had to be Tim. Too tall for Damian, too short for Dick, and coincidentally Nightwing was a good bit taller than Red Robin too.

The dominos made the faces harder to recognise but the way they exchanged a glance, still wary of approaching too closely? That was very familiar.

Danny just hoped that Bruce had managed to do something with the damn vest in those few seconds while he’d distracted Killer Croc.

It was now waaaay too close to Jason for Danny’s liking, even if the odds of getting it actually on him were pretty near zero. Not unless Croc dropped Bruce anyway.

He really didn’t wanna have to ectoblast anyone. That’d be a real awkward conversation, and even Jason didn’t know the extent of his powers yet. He deserved the chance to find out first.

Croc seemed to have come to the same conclusion about the vest though, because he held up his hostage in one hand and brought the vest closer to Bruce instead.

“Right, you two back off or the lot of us go up, alright?” He growled, visibly annoyed by the turn of events.

Danny had to guess he’d expected they’d have a little longer before a full bat attack. Hell, maybe the bats usually waited until setup finished.

There was no way to be sure. There was just so much cat and mouse in Gotham, so much emphasis on plans and backups and understanding.

Danny simply could not. He would just die (again) if he had to sit around and wait to see what his rogues were doing before they struck.

Luckily, they seemed to feel the same, because usually they barrelled out of the portal and made a beeline for him, their goal, or both. There might be plotting in the zone, but that was never Danny’s problem.

Fucking Vlad was the notable exception, and Danny was delighted to see that the man was visibly fuming. Arms folded, scowly pout, like he’d just had his own plot foiled.

Whether because Danny very pointedly had not rescued him or the bats had shown up, Danny neither knew nor cared. It did wonders for his mood.

That and the ongoing warmth from Jason, who seemed to be trying not to laugh. Danny picked out a momentary regret that they hadn’t had time for Sam to get herself “captured” for the bit.

There was still time.

Nightwing and Red Robin had stopped in their advance, apparently to reason with Croc. Apparently his scales were not actually explosion proof, which made his last bid for control a little desperate.

Danny wasn’t actually listening, looking around hurriedly til he caught Sam’s eye. As a liminal she couldn’t quite hit the same intricacies of empathic messaging, but it didn’t matter.

They’d known each other long enough, through enough, that all it took was a look. A suggestive waggle of his brows.

Sam grinned back, hand diving into her hidden pockets again. She had something fun. Now all they needed was a distraction.

Or just an opportunity.

Quietly, innocuously, he scooched himself around behind Croc and readied to spring.

**

Vlad was aware that it was beneath his dignity to sulk. However, he was currently in the ass end of New Jersey, at a shoddy gala with people who were perfectly happy with armed criminals, but not an ill timed comment.

If they wished to shun him like school children, he would allow himself a brief sulk. Even in their little group on the floor, they had contrived to separate themselves from him.

All the better.

These reprehensible fools had apparently attacked the gala without any sort of plan, provided no challenge to a pair of almost-children in masks, and achieved nothing.

Daniel hadn’t even bothered changing to deal with the big one. Just jumped on him like some sort of animal.

The fact that it had worked only made matters worse.

It wasn’t that Vlad wanted to be the blushing heroine of a trashy novel. He hadn’t intended to fall into Daniel’s arms, or anything of the sort.

Even if Daniel was an adult now, Vlad thought of him as a son. And perhaps that was all he’d hoped for… recognition of the bond between them.

It was perfectly fair that Daniel had suspected his involvement, no matter how long it had been since Vlad had inconvenienced him with a harebrained scheme. He was well aware he’d earned his reputation.

But it would have been nice if the boy had cared. Had been even remotely concerned once he knew Vlad was innocent.

But no. The second he knew Vlad wasn’t involved, it was like he didn’t exist. Just left him to the mercies of the goons and these bats.

Vlad might be reasonably bullet proof but that didn’t mean his feelings were.

If Bruce Wayne got himself killed he would raze this city to the ground.

**

All of the bats had tensed when Killer Croc’s demands came over the comms. Red Robin flicked open a secondary channel for them, a single murmured message coming through.

“Backup in the dining hall. Croc has Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, and a bomb.”

Even the usual flow of argument and commentary was put on hold.

The remaining goons had been restrained. With Red Robin’s intel, Batwoman was on her way to where Riddler had been broadcasting from.

Whether he’d still be there or have cut his losses, no one knew. The video call was still open but not doing much.

“We didn’t even get a riddle,” Spoiler grumbled, and Black Bat half smiled behind her mask.

She was back above the dining room, creeping through towards the chandelier’s maintenance hatch. Spoiler had left it open behind her, and it was a simple matter to find herself an overhead perch without being spotted.

Nightwing was mainlining the negotiation, his comms still open for the rest of the bats to hear how talking Killer Croc down was going.

Spoiler alert (a phrase she’d heard from Tim and would be keeping forever): not well. Croc might not be bomb proof, but he also knew they weren’t going to risk the explosion.

What they needed was an opportunity. Something to distract him enough that one of them could get close enough to strike.

While Croc held the cards, the three goons still struggling to restrain Jason were looking into the shadows erratically enough to make it hard for her to get close.

They didn’t seem to like the vest being waved around either, but they probably weren’t going to break ranks. More’s the pity.

But Jason wouldn’t be able to act directly anyway. Although… Danny had already tackled Croc once.

Her gaze darted around, looking for where the kid had gone now. Croc had tossed him, and… and he was coming back for more.

Yeah, she liked him. And he was significantly closer to Croc than the rest of them could get, while being mostly overlooked.

She had to guess he wasn’t an active vigilante anymore, or he didn’t worry about a secret identity. Vlad looked more sullen than surprised by what had happened, so she’d guess he already knew.

And if Danny’s evil billionaire knew who he was that could explain his complete lack of caution. Something to ask about later, anyway. For now she tapped her comm.

“Above. Danger Twink is in position behind.”

Neither Nightwing nor Red Robin could respond verbally, not with Killer Croc’s attention wholly focused on them, but she could see Nightwing’s lips twitch. He inclined his head slightly, hand folding and flexing into a brief ‘yes’.

Confirmed. He had noticed Danny creeping up as well.

“Distraction?” She asked softly, shifting about on her perch. She couldn’t get down any lower without giving herself away. They would have too much time to react from this height.

She could swing down in a blaze of glory and give someone else a chance to strike.

Before either of her older brothers could respond, Signal tapped in and she saw an unnatural flicker of shadows at a window. Left of Killer Croc’s position, from Nightwing and Red Robin’s perspective.

“Uh… guys, I’m in position outside the window, but something’s fucked. Robin, you sure that machine didn’t activate?” He sounded tense, and Black Bat tensed along with him.

Had they all missed something? Or were they inside the machine’s effects?

Robin only sounded annoyed though, a dull thudding accompanying his voice.

“I am currently sat on the machine while Spoiler restrains the last fool. It has no power, is producing no detectable energy or wave, and the screen is blank.”

He’d probably kicked it to make the noise.

Black Bat’s brows furrowed. Too many questions. And not only hers; for once Spoiler was all business, even if her voice was a little strained.

“Describe what you’re seeing, Signal. We know there’s one potential villain in the building beyond our rogues, and Two Face may have left an early surprise.”

Signal still sounded worried, and she couldn’t quite make out where he’d gone. Not good.

“That’s actually kinda the problem… I didn’t notice til I came to the window, but I can’t see a thing inside. It’s just blinding light like I’m staring into the sun, and I can’t do a thing with it. Lemme try something else…”

The shadows just inside the windows began to shift and Black Bat hissed, tapping her comm again. It was nothing the others should notice yet, but Croc might catch it from the corner of his eye.

“Signal, stop. Shadows moving, Croc directly ahead, may see.”

The shadows stilled at once, Signal’s sigh of relief a little odd in contrast, but she figured she understood. At least his abilities still worked inside the hall.

But what would be blocking his vision?

“Could this be a Signal-specific countermeasure?” Spoiler asked tensely. It sounded like she was on the move again. Probably Robin too.

“Or it is Fenton,” Robin put in darkly, confirming Black Bat’s suspicions a second later, “we are on our way.”

“Fenton?” Signal asked, sounding confused. “How would he be blocking me?”

“We do not know the extent of his meta abilities,” Robin explained tersely.

Spoiler’s eyeroll was easily audible. She had a gift that way, and usually it made Black Bat smile. Today, she was worried.

“First you thought he teleported, then we hear super strength, now light fuckery? What’s next? Laser eyes and flight? He’s not Kryptonian.”

“Probably,” Black Bat added, lips quirking just a little at her own joke. Spoiler at least chuckled, shaking her head.

“Look, what we need to decide is if we’re letting him take another run at Killer Croc before he takes the question out of our hands. Does anyone else have a way to get the bomb off him?”

A resounding silence answered, even Nightwing and Red Robin hesitating their negotiations. Croc was, if nothing else, stubborn.

He only wanted Harvey Dent. Not even a way out. Not that they’d have let him go, of course. Something had brought him back to town and they had to know what.

“Right.” Spoiler sounded firm now, and Black Bat settled. The easiest way to solve the mystery of Danny’s powers would be to ask him.

Privately.

Not tonight. All else being equal, Black Bat still thought he wasn’t a threat. He was a good kid, tough if he’d already gone a round with Killer Croc and wanted another.

Frowning down, she cocked her head slightly. Her perch was as close to above Croc as it could be, and she couldn’t quite see where Danny was looking.

“He is waiting for something. He needs a distraction,” she concluded, frowning down at tensely set muscles. Coiled to spring, just like her.

If the others were surprised she’d pulled full sentences out, it didn’t show. She could hear the smile in Spoiler’s voice.

“Then let’s give him one. Bat, Signal, bring the noise. Red, Nightwing, you’re on Danger Twink watch. Get in and get him out ASAP. Croc won’t go down easy, but we should be in to assist in five.”

“Tt. Three,” Robin corrected derisively and Spoiler snickered. Minor bickering aside, they switched easily as a unit from Red Robin’s command to hers.

It felt good to be a part of something. Something strong, but also something close.

“Black Bat, when you’re ready, count it down. Time to put that window practice into action, Signal,” Spoiler declared, and Black Bat sent two quick taps back.

An affirmative. One last scan of the hall, checking for anything else she might have missed, and she noticed that Sam was also tensed.

Further back than both Nightwing and Red Robin, she was far enough from the action to be safe. But what was she waiting for?

Probably the inevitable. It was that kind of night.

They’d had the “on three or three and then go” argument about a hundred times by now, and from Cass’s experience they’d had it every single time someone new joined the family.

Signal had had his, and currently they were settled on “on three”, so she shifted into a readied position and began the quiet count.

“One. Two. Three.” And she dropped.

**

Glass shattered. A third bat dropped from the ceiling, a descending mass of black as the bright yellow form of Signal burst into the room.

Croc roared at both, grip tightening on the bomb vest.

Samantha Manson rose like an avenging angel, leapt from the middle of her group, and threw a large and heavy thermos directly at…

Well. She might have been throwing it at Killer Croc. But she definitely hit Bruce Wayne square in the head as the big guy pulled him in.

The thermos clunked off his skull, pinwheeling away and for a heartbeat Nightwing was a little disappointed. And then it landed perfectly in a familiar hand and Danny whacked Killer Croc upside the head with it.

He didn’t have the same momentum as his first leap, didn’t take the guy all the way to the ground with him, but he put everything he had into that strike.

And landed like a koala, clinging to his shoulders, which definitely also helped as Killer Croc stumbled forwards, his grip weakening.

Bruce fell away and Nightwing spent a moment feeling kinda bad for the guy. That thermos must have been solidly built, there wasn’t a dent on it as Danny gave Killer Croc another resounding smack.

Nightwing and Red Robin were already moving in even as shadows sprang up around the three goons holding Jason. They went down together, Jason struggling free.

His eyes snapped to Nightwing’s, past him, and then suddenly he was charging. For half a second Dick held his breath.

No green in his eyes. It was just Jason.

And then he was past and Nightwing swore, spinning as Black Bat and Red Robin joined the fight with Killer Croc.

Jason had seen something, and might need backup.

The urge to laugh very nearly had him breaking character. But these were civilians; he had to pretend to be concerned.

Sam had fucking landed on one of Riddler’s goons. Not one of the ones he’d tied down already, and an almost unconscious hand had grabbed her ankle. Probably just a reflex.

It was probably the irritation at being benched that had Jason stamping firmly down on that wrist as he snatched Sam into the air. The hand nearly fell away on its own.

The long folds of her dress draped around him, covering him in purple bows as well, and the crowd audibly gasped.

Nightwing took a quick glance back at the Croc fight. Signal had Jason’s three former goons covered, and Black Bat and Red Robin had joined Danny with Killer Croc.

Red Robin was trying to coax Danny back out of the fight to give Black Bat a little more freedom to move, but the kid looked like he was having fun.

The heavy hits and numbers were beginning to tell on Croc too, along with the loss of his leverage. He was slowing, his swipes less aggressive and while his teeth were bared, he wasn’t biting.

It wouldn’t be long til he gave it up. It’d be hard enough to get away with only two bats on his tail, if Spoiler and Robin arrived he wouldn’t have a chance.

Whether he knew they were there or not, he was clearly considering it, head beginning to tick towards the window.

Nightwing took it all in in a split second, and headed after Jason.

“Going for the civilians, you guys good if I start on wrap up?” He called, skidding to a stop on his knees and cuffing the softly whimpering goon.

Red Robin gave him a stream of invective that probably meant “no you fuck get back here”, but Killer Croc caught him just below the gut and tossed him backwards.

Putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder, Nightwing turned him quickly and pushed him towards the wall.

“Stay away from the downed bodies and take cover,” he ordered and Jason’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he nodded.

Yeah, he’d hear about that later. Worth it.

And it meant Jason got to princess carry a conspicuously unprotesting Sam, which could only be a good thing.

Turning back to the fight, Nightwing rolled his shoulders and grinned. Looked like Croc was still giving them the runaround. And Danny was still in the thick of things. Still on Croc’s shoulders.

Signal had finished gift wrapping his thugs and seemed torn between trying to help and keeping out of range. Maybe he was still having trouble seeing.

“So, do you guys need me over there? Cuz I saw a table of champagne glasses in the other room that weren’t tipped over and I could use a drink,” Nightwing teased, watching Signal’s lips tug into a reluctant grin.

Red Robin managed to flip him off, ducking under another strike.

“If you’re on fucking civilian duty come and get this fucking civilian,” he yelled, not even bothering with the comms anymore.

“Hey, I’m fine!” Danny protested loudly, hooking a foot into Croc’s elbow to pull a swing short, making the big guy swear loudly.

“Yer all fuckin’ annoying,” Croc growled, making another reach back with his other arm to try and dislodge Danny. Who ducked down, but didn’t lose his grip.

Black Bat took advantage of the opening to close in low, striking several pressure points across Killer Croc’s chest and forcing him to take a step back.

Behind Nightwing, the doors burst open to admit Spoiler and Robin. Croc hesitated again, then sighed and sat heavily on the ground.

“You’ll have fuckin’ scared him off now,” he grumbled as Red Robin and Black Bat shifted warily to flank him.

Pretty sure Two Face woulda been scared off before the broken windows, Nightwing sauntered casually over and helped Danny off Croc’s shoulders.

“Civilian acquired,” he told Red Robin cheerfully, grinning wider as the younger vigilante groaned.

Danny grinned back up at him, looking around.

“Thanks for the assist, Nightwing, I don’t know what we’d ever have done without you,” he cooed, and Black Bat snickered.

Robin and Spoiler were making their way through the felled goons, tying up any that had just been knocked out and beginning to drag them to a pile in front of the stage.

The remaining hostages, guests and staff combined were getting to their feet now, beginning to chatter amongst themselves again.

Spoiler made it a point to collect the pillowcases of valuables, lest someone try and reclaim something that didn’t belong to them.

It was almost routine at this point and Nightwing felt his shoulders settling as a gentle buzz of conversation filled the room once more. Beside him, Danny stretched.

“Anyway, did anyone see where my date went?” He asked brightly, looking around the hall.

A light went on in Nightwing’s head. This… would be essentially the perfect moment for closet time.

Glancing around, he caught sight of Jason and Sam, about where he’d left them. He pointed Danny their way and gave him a gentle nudge.

“Back in the corner there. She looks fine,” he added innocently, aware of the not so subtle eavesdroppers to their conversation.

Danny grinned up at him and headed off in that direction with a cheerful wave.

“Better check anyway. You never know.”

“Hey, wait!” Spoiler called, jogging up to join them with a frown on her face, “You should get checked for injuries!”

Danny sped up if anything, waving to her too.

“Nah I’m fine, not a scratch!” Which might well be a fucking lie, but Nightwing was willing to let that wait for now, tucking Spoiler in close.

“Pretty sure Jason’s about to give him a pretty thorough once over in a closet,” he whispered, and was a little surprised when she just rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, and he’s not supposed to know we know that,” she whispered back but let it drop.

Unable to argue with the indisputable truth of that, Nightwing shrugged and turned back towards Signal.

“At least a couple of us should be out of uniform anyway, so we aren’t missed,” he subvocalised over comms. He got three taps back, and saw Black Bat melt away.

Fuck.

“Tell Sam I found you,” he added in a hiss, keeping the smile on his face. He didn’t need to test out the big taser personally.

Another tap and he was at Signal’s side, announcing himself with a gentle hand on the younger vigilante’s shoulder. He still seemed a little disoriented.

“You okay kid?” He asked quietly, frowning as Signal shook himself. Maybe it was for the best that he hadn’t been directly tangling with a rogue.

He gave Nightwing a slightly sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, I’m just still kinda seeing stars… it got a little better now that I’m inside, but it still feels like someone turned the brightness up on my eyeballs.”

Nightwing made a face, giving him a careful pat on the back. That did not sound fun.

“Do you have any better idea what’s causing it?” He asked hopefully, glancing around. The broken windows meant it probably wasn’t something that had been done to the glass, but didn’t narrow things down much.

“Tt. It is obviously the presence of the other meta,” Robin cut in impatiently, arms folded as he glared up at them.

Nightwing glanced down, shifting automatically to give him space to join them. As much as Damian loved to sneak around, the others had kinda gotten used to it.

Overexposure. That’s why Dick usually telegraphed his presence as loudly as possible; it made people more likely to think quiet meant he wasn’t there.

Signal frowned, head tilting as he looked around the room. Even with his eyes hidden behind the domino, Nightwing figured he was checking for brighter spots.

“Maybe? But I haven’t seen anything like it before. It’s not coming from any specific person,” he explained slowly, scanning all the guests.

Paused, brows furrowing further. But Nightwing had an idea, tossing an arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, stick around for the turnover to the cops and we’ll see if we can’t get you a chance to talk to the kid in person. Give you a chance for a better read.”

Signal hesitated a moment longer, then nodded, shifting his focus to the two of them.

“Yeah, probably a good idea…” his voice trailed off and he shook his head a couple times, then raised a hand to rub at his temples. “Alright, that’s really fucking weird. It’s just gone.”

Something tickled up the back of Nightwing’s spine and he did his own quick sharp scan of the room. Jason and Danny were gone.

**

“Y’know, after all this excitement someone might be tempted to call the rest of the gala quiet,” Jason remarked with a soft chuckle, following Danny from the dining room to the main hall.

Danny shot him a wicked grin over one shoulder other hand checking a likely door.

“Why, were you hoping for a quiet night?” He teased and Jason grinned, shaking his head.

“And miss Sam’s well earned explosion? No fuckin’ way. Hang on, there’s a closet a little further down that’ll be a little easier to get discovered in,” he said quickly, pulling ahead to lead Danny to another, more obvious door that was visible from the main hall.

“Oh, do the others have their party clothes hidden in the other one?“ Danny asked with a smirk, clearly enjoying the way Jason’s step stuttered for a moment.

It was Jason’s turn to look back, a long, slow look was much more calculating. Assessing. Danny just shrugged.

“I’m not saying anything to anyone. Wild coincidence how many of your siblings have been touched by death though. Almost as many as the Gotham vigilantes.”

He might not have guessed by that alone-alone (Gotham was a dangerous city), but it wasn’t like Jason would know to call him on it. This might be his Robin reveal biting him in the ass.

Still, it wasn’t like Danny wouldn’t meet Bruce and Batman eventually. His family were nosey shits - tonight proved that. Better that Danny knew what he was dealing with.

Stomping the part of him that felt bad firmly down, Jason tugged Danny into a broom closet barely big enough to hold them.

Not like the bats would feel bad about sticking their noses in, and it’s not like he’d told Danny. Danny worked it out himself.

Not like they’d have had a chance in hell of hiding it if the Ghost King really could sense everyone who’d died. It wasn’t gonna be the biggest news on any day of the week that involved Danny.

Danny was still watching him, the faintest brush of amused-concerned-we good? sliding across his senses. Jason snickered and reached out to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, there’s probably at least one set of party clothes back there. But they’re not the ones we want walking in on us, right?” He asked, pulling the door carefully almost shut behind them.

Danny settled, grin broadening again as he reached up to ruffle Jason’s hair back.

“Not that I don’t think they’re dramatic enough, but it’s way less suspicious if we’re exposed to all and sundry,” he agreed with a much too charming wink, and set about unbuttoning his shirt.

Jason hesitated for the barest second more, calculating again… but this time for a much better reason. His own little imp of mischief raised its head.

“Think anyone would notice if we swapped ties?” He asked with a sudden grin, tugging his blue tie loose. Loved the way Danny’s face lit up with manic glee as he tugged his own off and tossed it over.

“They’re not the exact same colour but close enough if we were “distracted”,” he agreed with a cackle, taking Jason’s tie and stuffing it into his jacket pocket.

Jason hooked Danny’s over a mop and began working at his own buttons. Stopped. He could undo them nice and neat. He could also…

He wasn’t against flashing a little skin for the rest of the evening.

Taking both sides of the shirt in hand, he yanked hard enough that Danny had to dodge a button shooting out at him. And abandon his own undressing to clap both hands over his mouth against laughter.

“Did you just fucking rip your shirt open like a caveman?!” He hissed in delighted glee once the giggles subsided. Jason smirked, completely sure the impressed look in his eyes was real.

Nothing else there to see, right?

“Not according to anyone else at this party, there’s not a soul in that room that won’t believe you ripped it off me after that display,” he pointed out smugly, and Danny had to stifle a cackle by shoving most of his fist in his mouth.

It felt good to be actively doing something after being sidelined for the entire attack. Good to see any traces of that worry, of that all too familiar burning rage in Danny’s face.

No one else should ever have to feel like that. Not for Jason.

Now, laughing until he couldn’t breathe and had to sag against Jason’s chest for support? That he was extremely comfortable with.

Steadying his shaking king, Jason hummed thoughtfully and ran his hands through Danny’s hair a few more times. It was already wild and unruly, so the step from there to sex hair wasn’t all that far.

Danny gave him a gentle jab with his elbow before straightening, tugging his own shirt open with nary a care for the last two buttons. Then he paused, reaching for his belt.

“So how far are you comfortable with this going?” He asked innocently, too innocently. In that sweet, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth tone Jason had already learned to suspect.

If Jason Todd had one weakness, he’d never backed down from a dare in his life. Why start now.

“I’ve never seen anyone arrested at a gala for indecent exposure,” he replied in his own best innocent voice, the one used when Bruce caught him hiding the bodies.

Danny snickered and pulled his belt off, kicking his trousers… yep, all the way down and off his legs, and in case any of his nosey bastard siblings were curious the boxers or briefs question was answered.

Not that any of them would be surprised, given the cut of Danny’s pants. Briefs today at least, but Jason very deliberately was not going to speculate.

“You don’t have to match,” Danny assured him quickly, still grinning as he picked up his pants to hang them artfully over an upturned bucket, “can’t have the man of the hour kicked out of his own party.”

Suddenly the closet felt a lot smaller. A lot warmer. A lot harder to breathe. Because. Yeah. That’s what they were doing.

They were staging a fucking sex scene, on their third hangout in their lives, and Danny had fucking said that.

Even the heady knot of tension suddenly in Jason’s gut couldn’t stand a chance against the wave of snickering.

It gave him a moment of distance, to catch his breath and remember why they were doing this, and tug his own belt open. Unbutton his pants, mind very firmly fixed on Bruce’s reaction.

“Danny, never fucking say that to me again unless you want me to streak through this hall,” he said as seriously as he could, loving the way Danny’s eyes darted down and then back up to his face.

He would love absolutely nothing more than to get kicked out of his own party… any night but tonight. Tonight, he had no fucking intention of missing out on Sam going nuclear.

Snickering to himself, Danny nodded and took a moment to survey his own state of deshabille.

“Noted. Oh, and there’s this one trick Sam taught me to make it look like we’ve actually been making out,” he added quickly, grinning up at Jason.

Whose cheeks just might have pinked a little bit with the suggestion, gaze tracking straight down to Danny’s lips for reasons which had nothing to do with a trick.

What would Danny taste like? Could he taste sarcasm and bad puns?

Danny didn’t seem to notice, biting down on his lower lip and letting it drag out slowly between his teeth. If Jason was a stronger man he’d have looked away, but just…

Watching that soft, pink lower lip beginning to redden and flush at the pressure, and holy fuck it did look almost kiss swollen. Jason bit down on his own lower lip without meaning to, pushing down a longing sigh.

Startled when Danny snickered and reached up to poke just below his lip.

“You’ve gotta pull it through too, you can’t just bite it,” he teased gently, bringing Jason back to what they were actually doing.

And, fuck it, being a little flushed would help the illusion. He obediently pulled his lower lip free, slowly and with just enough pressure to get it really red.

Danny’s eyes, already on his mouth, lingered for a moment, and Jason did it again just to see his reaction. Were his cheeks pinking up too?

And then the absurdity set in, and Jason snickered too.

They were fucking stood almost chest to chest in a closet, the rising hum of conversation behind them indicating the hall filling up, biting their own lips.

What was his fucking life?

He bit down on his upper lip a couple times too, and that pretty much broke Danny into silent giggles. Jason flipped him off, grinning back.

“Fuck you, you’ve gotta do both it’s not like you only make out with your lower lip,” he hissed and Danny’s shoulders shook, but he was clearly convinced because he did it too.

And yeah, that wasn’t nearly as sexy to watch. Just funny, bringing back the reality of what they were doing. What they wanted.

It definitely worked. Danny looked thoroughly debauched now, hair tousled, lips red and kiss stained and wet where he poked his tongue out to wet them, clothes tugged all over the place.

Jason tried to ignore it, to focus on the logistics. If they wanted a convincing sex scene… if Danny bent over Jason wouldn’t have to see that pretty face anymore, but nor would anyone else.

And there really wasn’t room in the closet. Danny must have twigged to the problem too because he snapped his own eyes from Jason’s face and frowned around their tiny space.

And yeah, he was definitely a little redder. Probably on purpose. Completing the illusion. For sure.

Then he looked back at Jason and grinned.

“I have an idea, but it’s gonna make some noise. You about ready to be discovered?” He asked, waggling his eyebrows lasciviously.

Jason snickered, glancing back towards the door for a moment then nodding. He had an idea by now. Danny seemed to have a preferred move.

“Yeah, I’m good. Do I need to catch you?”

And this smile was one he hadn’t really seen before, soft and fond and filled with undeniable warmth.

“You fuckin’ get me Jason,” Danny sighed happily, then jumped up and locked his legs around Jason’s waist. Kicked a bucket on the way up.

Jason’s hands flew to catch him automatically, and yup, he definitely had two handfuls of Danny’s ass. Only briefs keeping it from being skin to skin.

But this was the goddamn plan, Jason reminded himself, finally having to look up into Danny’s face. Felt better when he saw that Danny was blushing too, and staring.

Yeah, they were both in it now.

Jason did his best to keep his hands as professional as possible while holding Danny’s butt.

“This okay?” He asked a little belatedly. Danny visibly snapped himself back, shuffled a bit in Jason’s grip, and grinned again.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna drop me,” he agreed, draping his arms over Jason’s shoulders. Squeezed a little tighter, pulling in until their mouths almost touched, and hissed, “door.”

Jason almost turned, almost tensed, and forced himself not to as the door pushed open. Breathing heavily was not difficult, but made it harder to hear…

The door had stopped moving. A heartbeat of silence, Danny and Jason suddenly realized they should be moving, and then a very familiar chuckle.

“Oh, is it that time already?” Selina purred, her body blocking most of the light from the hall. She surveyed their positioning in a flash, nodded. “Stuff your fingers in his mouth, Jason darling, you might as well pretend you’re doing a good job.”

Jason barely had time to move, hand coming up automatically and conveniently cutting off Danny’s snort of laughter. And Selina screamed and spun away, “accidentally” pushing the door open wider.

They weren’t quite exposed to the whole hall, but the angle was clear enough for more than a dozen guests to look in.

A few more drifted over as Jason swore loudly, twisting to grab for the door and “accidentally” show off a little more of their tableau, pushing it closed.

He let Danny drop down after the door was shut, the smaller man’s shoulders once again shaking with laughter. Jason grinned down at him, tugging his shirt back into place.

“So do we let them think I’m finishing you off or just get back out there?” He whispered over a renewed and much louder buzz of conversation.

And much closer. Someone else might come for a look.

Letting Sam walk in on them directly was real fucking tempting.

But Danny shook his head, still snickering as he pulled his shirt closed too.

“Better get back out there, I don’t want to miss any of the fireworks. As much fun as “finishing it off” would be,” he added with a snicker, pulling out Jason’s tie and fastening it sloppily around his neck, “I should go grovel.”

“We should,” Jason agreed with a snicker and nodded, doing up the buttons he had left. He didn’t want to miss the show either.

Danny paused though, looking around their closet as Jason tied Danny’s tie on, settling his jacket and closing his pants.

“Jason…” There was something a little strange in Danny’s voice now, something that made Jason frown as he turned back.

“What? Shouldn’t you be dressed?” He asked, and Danny shook his head, an awed grin spreading across his face.

“Yeah, about that. I think your step mom stole my pants?” He said it like he couldn’t quite believe it, which was fair, because Jason definitely didn’t believe he was hearing it.

“What?” He cast around quickly, and sure enough… Danny’s pants were nowhere to be seen.

Of fucking course she did. Why wouldn’t she.

“I didn’t really see her in the dining hall either,” Danny mused, something clearly dawning on him.

Something bright and wonderful and Jason really should worry a lot more about how Danny was putting things together.

“Jason…” Danny shook his head slowly, then grinned up at the taller man, eyes bright with laughter. “Is your step mom Catwoman? Legally you have to tell me or it’s entrapment.”

Snorting most of a laugh through his nose, Jason shook his head. If she didn’t want to be outed, she shouldn’t have stolen a man’s pants.

“Yeah, that was Catwoman,” he agreed, raising both his hands in surrender as Danny pointed menacingly at him. “I didn’t make her do it!”

Luckily Danny definitely saw the funny side too, snickering as he leaned back against one of the shelves. Was attacked by a bucket. Fought it to a standstill and gave up on shoving it back into place.

“You’re the one who has to go get me replacement pants!” He argued almost a full minute later, like there hadn’t been a pause.

If Jason hadn’t spent years not laughing at Dick’s bullshit on patrol… but no, he kept an excellent poker face thank you very much.

And Danny had a point.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed, turning back towards the closet door and wondering what kind of expression he should put on for the people outside.

Embarrassed? Danny’s pants were literally fucking missing. Hopefully they’d be just outside the door, but what if they weren’t?

If Jason had an imp of mischief in him, Selina had all of the Hells, complete with devils. She might have kept them.

Before it came up though, the door was pushed open again and Jason moved automatically to shield Danny from view. He might as well also pretend to be chivalrous.

But it was just Cass, back in her own suit and looking distinctly amused.

With Danny’s pants.

‘Found these,’ she signed, passing them over with her right hand. Stifling a snicker, Jason took them and nodded.

“Thanks Cass. We’ll be right out,” he told her, turning back to Danny as she closed the door.

Pressing his lips firmly together, Danny couldn’t quite hide a smile.

“Convenient.” He said shortly and Jason grinned. Tossed his pants at him.

“Hey, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. She probably robbed Selina to get them.”

Already pulling his pants back on, Danny frowned.

“Hey, she didn’t get my belt back…” Then he shrugged. “But Sam’s parents paid for it. So does that mean the Aunt Harley she said she texted…”

He trailed off suggestively, and Jason blinked, taking a second to track when the “she” shifted. Ah. Selina. He grinned.

“Yeah, she texted Harley Quinn. She’s sort of an unofficial member of the family now so even if Sam didn’t give him a concussion, Bruce may not survive the night,” he joked, then nodded to the door. “You ready?”

Danny took a moment to double check, tucking his shirt back in and straightening jacket and tie. Reached up to pat his hair and then obviously decided to leave it.

“Yeah, I’m good. Hey if anyone asks, do we tell them we finished?” He asked, clearly half joking.

Jason smirked, pulling the door open and slipping out.

“If they ask you, I did. If they ask me, you did.”

Still snickering, Danny followed him back into the limelight.

“Great.”

**

Pamela Manson was having the best gala of her life. Her dear little Sam had finally found herself a decent young man, from a good family, and they were getting along just swimmingly.

Oh, Sammy had fussed at first, she was always so loyal, but Pam could see her little girl warming up to young Jason.

It would have been best if they could have escaped notice during that tiresome rogue attack, but she hadn’t been able to reach her daughter before they were pulled into groups.

At least it didn’t seem to have put the boy off. He seemed to be quite the fighter too, it had taken three of those dull and muscly people to pull him around.

Perhaps he liked that Sam wasn’t the kind of girl who would sit around waiting for rescue. Oh, Pam would like that.

As much as she didn’t understand most of what Sammy said and did, Pam wanted her little girl to be happy. And while she still held out hope that this “goth” phase would end, Sam would never be a delicate flower.

All they needed was the kind of young man who could appreciate that, and maybe help guide her interests to something more acceptable than all those protests and demonstrations.

Yes, Jason Todd-Wayne might just be the best thing to ever happen to her family. Brucie was even Jewish too, and while no one had told her if Jason was (and the Mansons were hardly orthodox), it would be so nice not to have to explain all of their holidays.

They might even be able to hold the wedding in a synagogue.

Pamela wasn’t much of a traditionalist, not for the ones that weren’t a display of status at least, but she had quietly resigned herself to Sam having some courthouse wedding, or even eloping.

That awful Fenton boy would only encourage it. Honestly, she might have preferred if Sam had brought along that Valerie. Jason had plenty of attractive siblings and Val was clearly a social climber.

But now that Sam had met Jason…

Perhaps if Brucie could be persuaded, they could find somewhere nice out of Gotham and Amity Park both… but Sam did so love the gothic architecture. If it got her in a synagogue, Pam was prepared to compromise.

It wasn’t like a decent rabbi would marry her in some horrible black or spider covered gown. She would meet in the middle for her little girl’s happiness.

She was just looking around for Brucie again (poor man, he’d been through so much, perhaps a little motherly affection would do him some good too) when she heard someone scream.

Surely not another rogue already, the bats hadn’t even left yet?

**

Sam hated galas. Every single one, with a fiery burning passion. The fake smiles, empty headed aristocrats, and mind numbing conversation made her want to puke.

But her parents loved them. Were all about the image of “happy family perfection”, all about the fake smiles and lies. They loved images.

She could give them an image to hold onto forever.

She was being Conspicuously Alone by the quickly resurrected drinks table now, trying to persuade the bar staff to unionize. There was no way they were being paid enough for all these constant attacks.

They didn’t even get dental. Most of them weren’t even full time, AND they bought their own uniforms. It was a disgrace.

Danny and Jason had disappeared together, so really all she had to do was kill time and wait. Let people see her alone, let them wonder how long she’d been alone.

Her mom was off bothering Brucie again, probably already bartering for a spring wedding. Maybe apologizing for Sam hitting him with the thermos.

Sam wasn’t gonna. She regretted nothing. He was a manipulative asshole, and unlike his kids? She didn’t think it made it any better that he didn’t do it on purpose.

Some things didn’t have to be malicious to be shitty and hurtful, but people always made excuses like the intent should matter more than the impact.

That thought made her snicker a little. She’d made a little impact of her own. To his face, with her thermos.

Fuck that guy.

She hadn’t given a shit about him one way or another before tonight, not past him being yet another society himbo. Lucky he was cute and rich, because not much else was going on.

She’d never had much to do with his adopted brood either, although there she had changed her mind. Despite Dick being a cop, they’d been surprisingly down to earth.

Probably what came of having been adopted into society life rather than being born in. Sam could admit she had her share of annoying rich people problems.

Most of the Waynelets didn’t, at least not the more obvious signs, and it was refreshing. She’d finally had fun at one of these stupid events.

She’d always wondered if Cass had a lot more going on than her inability (refusal?) to talk made people think. It was why she’d learned ASL, but the opportunity had never come up.

They just didn’t go to many of the same galas. And if Sam ever had to go to any again, at least she’d have some backup.

She was a little surprised that they hadn’t found her by now, honestly, but maybe Tucker was keeping them away. If any of them wanted to argue about thermos percussion, she had time.

Then she heard the scream and a smile pulled across her face. She squashed it back down quickly, turning with the crowd to look for the source.

Stopped, frowning, when she saw Cass hurrying past with… an extra pair of pants? She was going the way Sam needed to anyway. Sam hurried to catch up, leaning in to whisper.

“Where did you get those?”

Cass gave her a very knowing look, nodding ahead to the wall they were making for. With a small and mostly inconspicuous door.

Sam almost tripped over her own feet and had to run a few paces to catch back up.

“How the fuck did his pants get out here?!” She hissed, fighting to keep the giggle out of her voice. Didn’t matter which “he”.

Cass chuckled softly under her breath, then signed a fancy S. It took Sam a moment to put it together, but the only other person they’d met today was…

“Selina?” Cass nodded again, pulling to a stop beside the door. Gesturing for Sam to take a step back.

They were right in the middle of everyone’s attention now, party guests who’d followed Sam to the noise stepping back and forming a ring with Cass and the closet at the center.

They weren’t as quiet as they thought they were about filling people in either, and Sam heard her own name more than once. They were waiting to see what she’d do.

Oh, she’d show them what she was gonna do.

**

The guests had been guided from the dining room once more, valuables redistributed under the watchful eye of the bats.

Most of the staff were cleared too, leaving just a few behind to start early on clean up. Whatever had been fucking with Signal had stopped, and now it was just Nightwing and Signal, waiting with Killer Croc til the cops arrived.

Well, not just them. Red Robin was having himself a little bit of a freak out, pacing the hall.

“It should be here! Where could it have gone! It didn’t have legs!” Yeah, he was also ranting to himself.

Nightwing and Signal exchanged looks. Did a quick rock-paper-scissors.

Some motherfucker had definitely told him that Nightwing always picked scissors. Unfair. Treachery. Betrayal.

He wandered over to Red Robin anyway.

“Whatcha lookin’ for, Red?” He asked casually and ignored the glare he got for it.

“Riddler’s tablet! O has the address and all the tracking information, but the tablet itself could still tell us something. None of the goons had it and I swear I searched everywhere!” He aimed a kick at a fallen plate, sending it spinning across the floor.

Nightwing stared at him for a long moment.

“You have the tracking information?” He asked gently. Maybe sleeping more was actually bad for Tim.

“Of course!” Red Robin grumbled, waving his wrist computer crankily, “Danny turned the VPN off and it hooked up to my bluetooth, it’s still pinging as being in the building but I can’t find it!”

Nightwing stared at him a moment longer, waiting for him to work it out. Red Robin narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed at being pulled from his search.

“What.”

“You have the tracking information,” Nightwing repeated patiently. Red Robin shoved both fists into his own hair and pulled, groaning.

“I swear to fucking god Wing I will kill you, WHAT.” Nope, he was clearly doing the genius-hyperfocus-spiral thing. Simple solutions had left the building.

Nightwing sighed and pulled up his own mini computer.

“Just use Find My IPhone. It’s specific enough to get within a meter, it’ll tell you if it’s in the room,” he explained when Red Robin was clearly actually considering murder.

It was Red Robin’s turn to stare at him. Then he groaned and scrubbed both hands down his face.

“I fucking hate you so much right now,” he grumbled, tapping at his wrist computer to open the website, “there’s no fucking way Riddler didn’t turn that… off…”

Nightwing didn’t actually have to look at his display. The glowing dot was clear on its own. Instead he draped an arm around the shorter man’s shoulders.

“Are you okay, kid? Usually you’re the one pointing this stuff out to us,” he asked quietly, holding on when Red tried to pull away.

Red Robin struggled for a moment anyway, then sighed and shook his head.

“I just… it’s still bothering me. I swear we had Riddler on the ropes last week, but his guys are busting up a gala tonight like nothing’s wrong? There’s no riddle, he didn’t even show himself, it’s just… this feels wrong. This isn’t how Nigma behaves, and I don’t like it.”

Nightwing pursed his lips, considering. The kid had a point, and it had been bugging him too.

“Wait til we work out what the machine Robin found is. If it’s a fancy unfolding arcade cabinet, maybe that’s where the missing pieces fit,” he offered gently.

Red Robin rolled his eyes, but didn’t try and push him away this time.

“Yeah, and if it isn’t? He was shipping in a lot of explosives for something, Nightwing. I thought we caught him early, but if that was just the tail end this could all be a big distraction for something much worse,” he argued, folding his arms.

“So we’ll see if Bluebird or Batwoman picks him up tonight, and if they don’t we’ll pay him a personal visit ourselves later in the week. He was pulling through Bludhaven, I’m not letting him off my turf either,” Nightwing added with a snicker.

It seemed to soothe some ruffled feathers, and Red Robin sighed, turning his attention back to the wrist computer.

“First we find that fucking tablet. Looks like it’s just outside the doors.” He headed off across the hall, that determination back in his stride.

Nightwing tipped Signal a wink and moved to follow, rolling out his shoulders. The sooner they got this sorted out, the sooner he could nip out of costume and rejoin the fun.

Red Robin threw the door open, revealing two of the staff and a bored looking Tucker Foley, leaning back against the wall and playing with… the Riddler’s fucking tablet.

When the door opened all three looked up, then Tucker grinned and waved.

“Oh, hi guys! They wouldn’t let me back in, but Danny gave this to me and I figured you guys would want it. There’s not much on it, but you guys probably have access to stuff I don’t, right?” He asked cheerfully, holding out the tablet like it was nothing.

Nightwing pressed his lips together very firmly, holding back a laugh through sheer will. Red Robin had been struck dumb, hand half extended in front of him.

Tucker pressed the tablet into it, waving cheerfully.

“Anyway, have fun with that, I gotta go, I don’t wanna miss the show.” And he just. Walked away. Back into the main hall.

Red Robin stared after the man for almost a minute, then turned to the tablet in his hands.

“Stardew,” he said weakly, and Nightwing frowned, turning to him.

“What?”

Red Robin turned the tablet around.

“He was playing Stardew Valley. On the Riddler’s tablet. The whole time.” His voice trailed off, staring after the Black man, and Nightwing shrugged and took the tablet.

Closing the game, he stopped and frowned, turning the screen. And sure, Tim was the family tech expert and Dick liked playing dumb, but he knew base code when he saw it.

He handed the tablet back to Red Robin.

“He was playing Stardew Valley on Riddler’s totally cracked, fully open tablet,” he corrected, snapping Red Robin’s attention back to the device.

Red scrolled through a couple of quick screens, tapped a couple of commands, then sagged back against the wall and groaned.

“How the fuck is he not already one of ours?” He asked with what Nightwing was almost going to call lust. Time to text Connor and warn him he might be getting a second boyfriend.

Glancing at the tablet again, Nightwing snickered.

As if Tim on his own wasn’t already more than enough.

Sudden yelling erupted from the depths of the hall, startling both vigilantes back into action. They were already moving before the probable cause sank in.

Nightwing groaned.

They were missing it. No time to change back now, they were going to miss it!

The costs of the vigilante lifestyle kept growing and growing.

———————

You have about a week to persuade me it’s funnier to write Sam’s explosion and use all these fun new words Pamela has for Danny like “harlot” and “strumpet” and “charalatan” than it is to just start the next chapter out of the gala and let it all happen offscreen.

Starting now 💖💖💖

Next Chapter:

#danny fenton dead and loving it #dp x dc #dpxdc #dead on main ship #danny vs killer croc #danny x jason #my ongoing curse: the desire to write good scenes vs the horrible gremlin need to cut off at the worst moment #but listen it all adds to the story #and red robin freaking out made me giggle #this one was nearly too long anyway #but so much fun #you can’t make me write combat if i switch away

[cozza-frenzy]

Fanfic: A Perfect Moment

Of all the places I could be, I just want to be here with you. Hello again, fandom! It’s been less than a week (apparently??) and @chronicsheepdrawing‘s amazing character designs are still keeping my creativity train rolling! This fic once again stars their Drinky Bird Narrator - so if you’re not familiar, go check out a silly bird! (He certainly needs more love, given how he thinks of himself... ) This is a sequel (of sorts) to Anything Not Saved. It happens some time afterwards, after more resets and endings have taken place. Expect a dark chocolate Angst Cake with plenty of Mutual Pining, layers of Fluffy Stannarrator between each layer, and a Meta cherry on top - trust me, you’ll see what I mean. And my apologies to any ASL users; I did at least try to do some research, but I can’t vouch for my accuracy! CONTENT WARNINGS: Isolation, Paranoia, Abandonment Issues, Self-Hatred, Body Dysphoria (Not Gender Related), Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, Emotional Breakdown, Memory Loss, Panic Attack, Touch Aversion, Autistic Sensory Overload/Over-Stimulation. I’m also adding a mild Unreality Warning to this one. If you’re looking at a reblog of this post, there are details in the tags of the original if you feel like you may be triggered by this. For everyone else, the tags are a minor spoiler, so maybe don’t look unless you’re really curious. Bon Appetit!

Stanley? STANLEY!? Oh my god, Stanley! Stanley, thank goodness - something VERY peculiar is going on this morning… See, it all started when I booted up my computer this morning - and you’ll never believe it, but I wasn’t receiving any commands! NONE! So I asked one of the other Employees what was going on, and they must not have known, because they didn’t say anything! What do you think; should I perhaps try the meeting room? Do you think maybe I missed a memo? I mean I really don’t want to interrupt anything, not to mention the sheer embarrassment of walking into something like that, not only unannounced but LATE- Wait, I’m not done! Stanley, I’m not - oh, sorry, sorry, of course! It’s precisely 10:32 AM, of course  you always get a drink of water from the cooler at this time in the morning… haha, typical silly old ▇▇▇▇▇▇, am I right? I swear, I’d lose my head if it wasn't permanently attached to my neck! But, ah, anyway, Stanley, I just feel like… like something’s wrong? I mean, have you noticed how some things are, eh, just… you know… ‘off’? Like did you know Employee [ERROR: DATABASE ENTRY INVALID]’s desk is empty? I mean, it looks like they haven’t touched their pencil sharpener in weeks! In fact, now that… now that I’ve thought about it… Stanley, did we ever HAVE an Employee [ERROR: DATABASE ENTRY INVALID]? I mean surely we wouldn’t have a desk without an employee! That’s ridiculous! But why can’t I seem to… ? Ah, yes, alright, I know work is important and I know  I tend to ramble but- please, just hear me out?? Look, I know I must be trying your patience! I know my ‘little stories’ are utterly insufferable to literally EVERY other employee in this building! But you, you always stopped to listen and - waitwaitwait, I’m sorry, just - please! Please Stanley, I’m ALWAYS supposed to receive my instructions and now I can’t even access my bloody terminal! I mean, how ELSE am I supposed to make sure the other employees are doing their jobs correctly?? Didn’t the board hand down that notice just last week!? You know, the one reiterating how vital it is to the well-being of the company that all of us, together- Stanley? Stanley, where are you going-? Can… can you hear me? Can you even SEE me!? Wait! Stanley! Stanley, I’m right here! I’m right HERE! Why aren’t you looking at me? Why aren’t you LOOKING at me!? STANLEY! STANLEY, PLEASE!! DON’T LEAVE M- Oh… …Oh no… —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ah, memories… Wonderful, wonderful memories. So much exquisitely-crafted content to reminisce over. He’d worked so hard on crafting this place; he’d fashioned every detail with care and precision. Yes, there would be trees here, a nice little fence there… oh, perhaps a few flowers, for a little splash of color! Yes, yes! The sound of birds, the smell of grass, the sky just a little overcast... yes indeed, not too bright, nor too gloomy. The light would hit just perfect this way, painting everything in soft and muted shades. Wonderful. Those clouds would be the whipped cream on this lovely little slice of the world, so close to being served and savored. And like a nervous, fidgeting pastry chef, the anticipation of someone experiencing this delectable delicacy had him practically giddy! The Narrator took a deep breath through the nose he maybe didn’t have, filling absent lungs with fresh air; and heaved a heavy sigh as he closed his plastic eyes, calming himself down. Wouldn’t be long now, he thought, chuckling softly. Stanley had fallen for his little breadcrumb trail the very minute he’d opened that vent… and any minute now, he’d be marveling at the inexplicably out of place stone archway. Manifested as if in a dream, a glowing portal to another realm, right there in the office… He rocked back on his heels a little, humming merrily to himself as he waited. Ah, he was proud of that little room; so mysterious, so enticing. A beautiful fragment of memory that he’d dusted off and polished up, until it glittered in his mind’s eye like a priceless diamond. Not half bad for something he’d forcibly yanked from the tangled, mangled wreckage that had been left behind in his head, when he’d stopped being human and become something- The Narrator cleared his nonexistent throat, straightening his tie. No, no, not today, he scolded himself internally. That so-called ‘Ultra Deluxe’ content’ had been so unfathomably disappointing, he’d had no choice but to do better! To show them just how great The Stanley Parable used to be! And any minute now, the hero of their story would be walking through that door to the most wonderful surprise. “Just our little secret”, The Narrator said as he felt Stanley’s presence. He was right behind him now, and getting closer. “Take a look.” He turned around, eager to see his protagonist’s reaction. He watched as Stanley shielded his eyes; the fingertips on his other hand tracing the surface of the cool stone pillar, as he stepped out into the memory of warm daylight. And the Narrator’s heart swelled with pride as he heard the soft gasp of wonder - the exact reaction he’d been looking for. “I call it - the Memory Zone!” He said, turning towards the path before him. “It’s where I keep all of my favorite memories… ” Not too far away was a squat, triangular building, full of snippets he’d painstakingly selected and organized for display. He’d come here a few times himself while it was still under construction; just to re-live some of the moments he’d preserved. As soon as Stanley stepped through that door, he would… wait… The Narrator froze suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. He’s got that look again. He’s… looking at me! Damn it, he’d been so caught up in what he was doing, he’d forgotten to unload his model! Alright, alright, maybe if he acted quickly enough, Stanley would dismiss it as simply a brief glitch- >/console >/unload Narrator.mdl ERROR: NOT FOUND What?? Clenching his glove-fist in frustration, he reached into the code and tried again. >/unload Narrator.mdl ERROR: NOT FOUND >/locate Narrator.mdl ERROR: POSITION NOT VALID The Narrator closed the console. That warm, fuzzy feeling of pride was quickly disintegrating under the freezing grasp of fear. He’d built the Memory Zone in a place so well hidden it was only outside the bloody map!!! And now there were footsteps behind him! And like the absolute fool he was, he turned around! Stanley was approaching. Slowly drawing closer. Each step ticking away the seconds to his doom. It’s okay, he reassured himself. You can pass it off as the Easter Egg from last time - just using it as a puppet to welcome him and nothing more! His face flushed. Stanley was right in front of him. He tried not to think about what muscles he may or may not still have - but regardless of their supposed existence, they all tensed at once, leaving him stiff as a board, frozen in terror. But he could work with this, right? Yes, he could! He could work with this! He could improvise, he improvised all the time-! Just don’t move…. Stanley looked into The Narrator’s eyes, his hands held tightly to his chest. …And he’ll lose interest eventually… Stanley moved his hand. It trembled as he held it out in front of him, slowly reaching forwards. Stanley… ? Stanley bit his lip. Wait, Stanley, what are you doing-? And Stanley touched him. The boggled look on the Narrator’s face shattered any previously-held records in the history of boggling. Stanley was touching him. Stanley’s hand was touching him. Stanley’s… warm, gentle hand... the pads of his fingertips slightly rough, slightly calloused. Each one a scar from another life; from the only life he’d known before The Parable. Continuously, rhythmically pressing buttons, over and over. Day in, day out. Broken fragments of memory flashed before the Narrator’s eyes in a sudden flood of noise; a disjointed, jumbled mess, utterly out of context and out of order. The taste of coffee in a paper cup. Stanley’s eyes. The bubble of the water cooler.  Conversation. Buttons marked “YES” and “NO”. His hands, his human hands, nails painted in an office-appropriate shade. A phone ringing. Stanley’s smile. A rising sense of panic. A snippet of a half-finished anecdote. Waking up. Blacking out. Laughter. Fire and pain and then nothing. A lunch break. An office-mandated birthday cake. A board meeting. An office-wide memo. Stanley’s hands. Stanley’s hands. He felt the tears welling up. He wrestled with the memories that hardly made sense, momentarily gaining the upper hand, only to find himself smacked senseless by the feeling of overwhelming grief that spiraled out of the current moment and skewered his heart. He twisted his head this way and that - desperately trying to get his stupid, stupid body to move! This was wrong! This was all wrong! “STOP!!!” The Narrator screamed, finally managing to pull away Stanley recoiled as if he’d been burned, and the Narrator turned from him, clutching the sides of his head as he struggled to get a grip, struggled to cram all of those horrible, horrible feelings back down inside himself where they belonged. NO NO NO NO NO NO-! The illusion is ruined! He definitely knows it’s me now! But ahead of him lay his last hope. His last chance at salvaging something, anything, from this horrendous mistake he’d made. The display area! If I can just get to it then I won’t have to face him! he thought to himself. He’d have to be quick, he’d have to take advantage of Stanley being distracted, but he could do this. He could make it! He could… he could just figure out the rest later, he had to GO! The Narrator started to run; and realized his fatal mistake too late. Inside his inhuman, transparent stomach, a sizable amount of liquid sloshed noisily back and forth. The more he ran, the more it sloshed. Back and forth, back and forth. Slish, slosh, slish, slosh… the momentum of each wave slowly building... and building... until-! “AH!!” One of his feet caught on an uneven memory of grass. All that heavy liquid, all that momentum, SLOSHED all the way to his front. And as these things tend to work with the laws of physics, the weight sent him tumbling forward onto his stupid idiot face, sliding across the ground a few feet before he finally came to a stop. The Narrator rocked gently back and forth from the still-sloshing liquid in the transparent globe of his belly, knowing exactly how he looked. It was a sight that would leave a professional circus clown weeping; hanging up his red nose and floppy shoes for the last time, his worldview in ruins. Witnessing such a sight, he’d know, deep in his heart, that no carefully coordinated pratfall or precisely timed nose honk - not a single artfully-placed whoopee cushion or expertly thrown custard pie - could ever come close to such breathtaking buffoonery. This is it. Stanley is never going to take me seriously ever again. The tears came thick and fast now, leaving the despairing Narrator gasping for breath between sobs. He’ll laugh at me. He’ll mock any sort of narrative I’ll try and create. Anything I try, no matter how wonderful, no matter how meaningful, it’ll be just a big joke. Like ME. Stanley stood over the Narrator, casting a shadow over him as he lay on the floor. The Narrator glanced over his shoulder, his fingers digging into the memories of grass and dirt beneath them and ripping them apart. Suddenly, hopelessness had given way to white-hot fury; Go on, he silently, bitterly urged his protagonist. Do it, you cretin. Finish me off. Put me out of my misery. Break my story! Break my heart! Break ME! Burn it all down, grind it all into the dirt where it belongs-! Stanley held out his hand. The Narrator looked up at him, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He was - for perhaps the first time in his life - speechless. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile; a man named Stanley had overstepped, and he knew it. <It’s you.> He’d signed, mere moments ago. <It’s really you… > Oh of course that shrill, annoying little voice in his head known as Common Sense had screamed at him endlessly. It stomped its little feet, tore out its hair, hammered its little fists on the bars of the bespoke and utterly inescapable cage that situations like this always built to contain it. No, stop! It cried. You mustn’t! But Stanley’s hand had moved of its own accord. He just had to know. He had to know if what he was seeing in front of him was really, really real. He had to know if what seemed like a memory of a dream of a memory - of someone he’d once felt close to - actually meant something. And then he’d touched The Narrator. Stanley’s hand shook when it had first met that plastic cheek; but feeling the smooth surface, he couldn’t help but relax from its reassuring familiarity. It was almost like a button, if a button was surprisingly warm. And despite feeling almost exactly like plastic, there was something indescribable, something wonderfully and beautifully alive about it. This was plastic with a pulse, and it made his fingertips tingle... His gently questing fingers found hair next. If he’d been one for poetry, he might have compared its color to fresh-fallen snow, kissed by the morning sun, but such metaphors escaped a mind such as his. Stanley was a simple man; not stupid, at least not usually, but his world had been small before the Parable swallowed him up. His memories of his old life were limited mostly to what he’d done at the office. But he vaguely remembered seeing a color like that, at work, in some kind of context… by the water cooler, during some kind of talk… and he knew he’d wondered, more than once, if it was as soft and fluffy as it looked. And as he stroked it gently... yes, apparently, it was that soft. A little stiffer than he’d imagined, maybe, but at least it looked nice and fluffy. Stanley felt a blush spreading across his cheeks. He hadn’t been sure what to think at first, but one word was slowly coming to mind, and that word was- “STOP!!!” Suddenly, abruptly, Stanley half-remembered and half-realized that softness was attached to The Narrator, and the shock may as well have electrified his arm. He pulled away; and seeing The Narrator’s reaction, his poor, simple heart sunk all the way to his feet. He knew he’d pushed things too far, he knew he’d done something dangerously close to Workplace Inappropriate Physical Contact, but had he hurt him-?? The Narrator turned and tried to run. Stanley scrambled after him, longing to cry out; Wait, please! I’m sorry! Don’t despawn again! The Narrator tripped and fell. Stanley, overcome with worry, rushed to his side, extending his hand. The Narrator just… looked at him. He was breathing heavily, his eyes full of tears, his fingers covered in dirt and crushed bits of grass. <I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!> Stanley signed repeatedly; in his desperation, he couldn’t even remember the next part of the Workplace Apology Procedure. The Narrator was still silent; and Stanley’s heart sunk further and further as his frustration grew and grew. Half-formed signs spilled from his shaking hands as his own tears began to rally the troops, fat drops ready to march down his cheeks in double time as he bit his tongue - why was this so hard, why was this so hard?? Mustering every bit of bravery an office worker of his rank possibly could, Stanley fell back on his last resort. Extending his hand again, he crossed the fingers on his other hand, holding them up so The Narrator could see them clearly; <R> Next, he held two fingers up; <U> His fingers formed a circle; <O> And lastly, two fingers split, like a peace sign; <K> “Am I… okay??” The Narrator’s words were strangled with emotion; but just hearing him say something, say anything, was enough for a wave of relief to wash over our daring hero. Smiling, Stanley beckoned with his extended hand, and The Narrator finally grasped it. It was soft, like the tasteful suede they used for the chairs in the Boss’ Office, and Stanley found himself subconsciously running his thumb over a line of neat stitches as he helped the poor man off the ground. The Narrator teetered on his feet for a moment, seeming unsteady. Stanley tilted his head slightly; what was that strange sloshing noise… ? But The Narrator sniffled, bowing his head again, and Stanley immediately snapped to attention. Yes, he knew just what to do! Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a packet of Office-Issued Disposable Handkerchiefs - an employee’s best friend for any sneeze, sniffle, or non-fatal accident involving coffee - and handed one to The Narrator. “Oh, Stanley… ” The Narrator dabbed at his eyes, and blew his nose like a foghorn. Stanley looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and utterly helpless confusion. He could only ever recall hearing him so utterly distraught once before, and that was… not a memory he really wanted to dig into. Was this really his fault? Had he deviated too much? Had he ruined his story again… ? “I don’t understand… I just don’t understand… ” sobbed the Narrator; ”Why are you being so nice to me?” Stanley was utterly dumbfounded. He couldn’t even bring himself to start signing, but the What!? was so implicit that The Narrator looked up in surprise <BECAUSE! I’M! HAPPY! TO SEE YOU!> Stanley signed with undeniable emphasis, holding his hands right at the Narrator’s eye level. Unable to hold back his own tears for a fraction of a second longer, the armies came marching forth in torrents. Stanley was happy. Stanley was angry. Stanley was frustrated, overwhelmed, overstimulated, and so desperate he felt like he was drowning. His lip quivered, his whole body shaking from the effort, but he had to do this, he had to be brave. This was what he’d waited for. This was his hope. Somewhere, far far back in his memories, something stirred. Before the Parable. Before beginnings and endings. Before he’d ever known what a ‘Reset’ was, those memories were reaching out to him. Memories of a face half-remembered, and a name long forgotten. Memories of someone speaking his name, over and over, instead of addressing him simply as ‘427’. A kindly smile. Uproarious, mischievous laughter. Coffee with cream and a disproportionate amount of sugar. Passing a slice of store-bought birthday cake, and accidentally brushing hands under the paper plate. <STAY!> And stories. Every day, there were stories. The other employees called it rambling, called it irritating, called it inefficient and unproductive… but to him, they were little stories… <HERE!!> Stanley strained from the effort. <PLEASE!!!> And The Narrator touched him back. Stanley froze in place. He was hyperventilating, gasping for every breath between silent sobs, but his hands finally lay still. The Narrator’s hands were holding them; silencing them. But Stanley didn’t mind; in fact, he welcomed it. He was at his breaking point. His heart and his head were both full to bursting. So many feelings. So many words. This wasn’t what he was good at. This wasn’t what he was meant for. But now, standing right across from him, was someone who was. Standing there, gently holding Stanley’s hands, was me. His Narrator. Let’s shift the perspective again, shall we? —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ahhh, there! That’s much better… feels like having a really good stretch after you’ve been sitting in the same place for a while, don’t you think? Let’s just take a moment to let the story settle… to take a deep breath, maybe have a sip of water…. to appreciate just how far we’ve come. …Now, uh, where was I… ? Oh, yes! Anyway; slowly but surely, I found my footing again. Our heads had been in the clouds long enough, and now I was pulling us both back to Earth, back into whatever passed for reality in this place. My thumbs gently stroked the back of Stanley’s hands; giving him something real to cling to. Giving my nervous hands something to do with themselves. And the moment I saw the tension leave his shoulders, I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. <You’re really here… > Stanley looked down at my hands and their irremovable gloves. Despite my fears, there was no rejection, no cruel mockery; just quiet fascination. Again, that same look, as his eyes moved up from there to my chest and to my face. And needless to say, it didn’t take an omniscient narrator to understand what his eyes were asking me. “Yes, Stanley. Go ahead.” Stanley reached out; I leaned my head into his hand this time, letting him know me through touch. And don’t you dare pass judgment - this is very hard for me to admit to - but it took everything I had not to burst into soppy tears all over again. We were old friends who’d just met. Two halves of the same soul, reunited at last. Surely a meeting like this was written on all the stars in the infinite cosmos, and upon every grain of sand in the- Stanley reached out a finger and ‘booped’ my nose. He laughed uproariously; not at me, but with me, as I somehow found a small chuckle growing into a full-on belly laugh. I just couldn’t help myself! This entire, bizarre situation we’d once again found ourselves in… the two of us so helpless, messy, and stupid... it felt so good to come so utterly undone. We were just a couple of total idiots, Stanley and I. Standing there and giggling like lunatics. And then… I found myself overcome by a strange impulse of my own. Seized by a brief moment of temporary insanity, perhaps. Taking a small step back, I opened my arms. Stanley didn’t hesitate for a single second. He fell into them like he was coming home; like he’d just had the longest work day in the universe, and someone had just presented him with the fluffiest feather bed in existence. Nearly bloody bowled me over again, with all his enthusiasm. But I looked down at Stanley - and he looked so happy, well... uh... you know what? I’ll give you the incomparable joy of picturing in your head just how happy he was. What?? No, I’m not lost for words! Me? Lost for words? Ugh, of all the… no, no, let’s not ruin this. This one right here is all yours. No, go ahead, take it. Don’t say I never do anything for you. But, ahem - to continue our scene, we were both sitting down now, right there on the ground. Stanley had his ear to my stomach, listening to whatever the hell liquid is in there slosh back and forth, as he rocked himself gently in place. There was no way he could realize how he was reminding me, with each slosh, of what I am. Of how I’ve changed. Of what I’ve lost. But for the first time since I could remember… I didn’t hate it. At least, not entirely. Perhaps I could get used to that, in enough time. Around us, the memory of birds sang, and the memory of a breeze gently rustled the memories of grass and flowers. Somewhere in the distance, a memory of a piano was playing itself - ah yes, I’d almost forgotten about that. Perhaps we’d see it later. Perhaps we’d sit on the bench I’d placed nearby, and look at the view. Perhaps talk to one another, instead of just at one another. Yes… that would be nice, wouldn’t it… But between Stanley and I; right here, and right now? There’s a glittering silence between us; one that outshines any other memory I’d care to rescue from the scrap heap. Things, I realize, are falling into place. As gentle as snow, as warm and welcome as the light of dawn. This, I can tell, is what I’ve been waiting for all this time; what I’ve been striving for, over and over, with each and every branching path. A perfect moment.

#The Stanley Parable #TSP #TSPUD #Stannarrator #Stanley/Narrator #Fanfic #NO BETA WE DIE LIKE THE END IS NEVER THE END #UNREALITY WARNING: The last section has The Narrator addressing the reader directly and talking in first person

[hacash]

Series asks:

• The Terror

• The Musketeers

• the last movie you watched

Marvellously the last film I watched was LOTR, which makes this beautifully easy! Also I want to sue for making me choose just one husband-candidate from the Terror character list, this is nothing but pure biphobia.

The Terror

Character I’d want as a best friend. - Depending on my mood it would either be Bridgens (sweet, gentle, loves books, will clearly be a comforting presence) or Fitzjames (gossipy, kinda bitchy, would enjoy drag brunch and hopefully sharing his fabulous wardrobe with me).

Character I’d want as a parent. – I was going to say MacDonald, as he’s just so nice and dry-witted and shaped like kindness, but honestly one of the fundamental rules of life is that you can't think your parent is hot and Charles Edwards remains an absolute dish, so it's gonna have to be Captain 'Grumpy Pants' Crozier here.

Character I’d want as a sibling. - Irving, my troubled dweeby little baby queer: I have so many queer Christian groups to share with you.

Character I’d want as a significant other. – SOL TOZER. LOOK AT MY TAGS. THIS MUCH IS APPARENT. He's loyal, he's snarky, he's genuinely protective of his men, he's the hottest one of the bunch and clearly takes orders well: which is basically my dream husband. Because I'm greedy I will also dub Fitzjames and Hartnell as very close runners-up: two absolute Good Eggs who also happen to be very pretty.

Character I’d want as a child. – Honest to God, if I could pop baby Thomas Evans into a sling like a baby kangaroo and carry him around all day, I would, with his curls and his pinchable cheeks and his heartbreaking loyalty to his buddies.

Character I’d want as a weird inlaw. – There is only one possible right answer for this, and that answer is Thomas ‘Monsterfucker’ Blanky.

BBC Musketeers

Character I’d want as a best friend. - Porthos, 100% the best musketeers of the bunch.

Character I’d want as a parent. – Obviously Captain Treville; apparently a specific blorbo-type I have is ‘gruff figure of authority who would die for anyone under their command’ and Treville was definitely a foundational blorbo here.

Character I’d want as a sibling. - Sylvie only had a single series and I'm still gutted about it; not only do I think she'd be a great sibling but we could overthrow the government together.

Character I’d want as a significant other. – I didn't spend several years spamming your feeds with reams of d'Artagnan gifsets and meta not to dub him my honorary husband now.

Character I’d want as a child. – Aramis: granted he’s an adult man but I feel like he needs a full-time parent just to tell him what not to put his dick in.

Character I’d want as a weird inlaw. – Can you imagine going to family dinners and having Louis as an in-law? Those meals would be so messy, I would absolutely love that.

LOTR

Character I’d want as a best friend. – I would argue that pretty much the entire point of the trilogy is ‘you will never get a best friend better than Samwise Gamgee’, so obviously my answer’s gotta be Sam. We both like gardening, planting, being snarky little shits and loving Frodo Baggins so we’d probably get on.

Character I’d want as a parent. – Absolutely Theoden: Bernard Hill’s delivery of ‘no parent should ever have to bury their child’ ruined me twenty-two years ago and honestly I’ve never quite recovered. (He makes such a good dad!!)

Character I’d want as a sibling. – Boromir is the archetypal big brother; I would bond with him over adorable hobbits and being aspec so so much.

Character I’d want as a significant other. – My little eleven-year-old self’s crush on both Pippin and Merry was a significantly formative period in my life, so honestly, either of them. They’re both Good Eggs, we can bond over cooking, Pippin can make me laugh lots and Merry can compensate for my utter inability to plan anything ever.

Character I’d want as a child. – Those two adorable baby hobbit kiddos played by Peter Jackson's kids.

Character I’d want as a weird inlaw. – Gandalf is the only weird inlaw.

#the terror #lotr #bbc musketeers #answered ask memes

[basedkikuenjoyer]

It's Just (ahh)...A Little Touch

Some rather massive implications of these new arrivals who get to work straight away smashing the ships. It's so nice and cuddly for me seeing Usopp geek out about the giants after all these years. I quite liked the lil recap panel too. Has a funky lil meta vibe with them looking up at the narration. The big guys are wrecking things, raises the question if we even need to get away so fast, but hey we're almost ready to do that anyways. Picking up where we left off last time though, there was something that stood out in terms of the quieter themes we've talked about.

Remember that we have something really interesting hanging over Usopp's long-awaited reunion with the honorable warriors of Elbaf after his biggest moment in Wano ends up being disillusionment with another culture of honor. It's a surprise for later.

We get an update on Zoro & Lucci. Which is fun enough, I'm more interested in Shark Daddy headed their way because it doesn't really seem like Marimo is struggling or anything. Specifically this line, this taunt from Lucci though. Someone cool pointed out it's a very interesting line to pair with this notion around Usopp and the Giants. It's somewhat of a subversion of the logic Usopp had around Kin & Kiku. They were begging him to do this with themselves, trying to one-up each other over being the sacrifice. Also see Vegapunk Prime for further entrenchment of the theme. I like how he leans on the plot of Enies Lobby and makes a callback in his taunting. Back to our main story though:

Okay this is funny. Firmly sets Bonney in "princess" territory but that's a moot point. Love reinforcing Luffy doesn't know or care much about this Nika element. Roasting a child though before bashing the powers that be? That's our lovable stretchy goof. Context is everything here though. Not just for Luffy, but for Sanji as well. He may be destroying the field of physics as we know it, but his swirly eyebrows reversed! DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNN!

Seriously though, it's doubling up on what happened with Luffy & Nika. Those are the two here, Vegapunk's saying he's done for and it's too late like a certain samurai that wasn't just trying to save his totally not surrogate daughter that Sanji's fight with Queen totally didn't lean on themes of or anything. And this was definitely, most assuredly not further reinforced by looping back in a power we noted was very interesting to reveal right after said samurai's spotlight in Act 1.

Tag! So it is Catarina and Augur actually though thanks to his fruit it's not really weird for him to be included and he potentially poofed Lafitte back or maybe he's still here. Either way the Blackbeard Pirates seemed to pull off a big coup here. If Catarina can clone Saturn now, that's scary. They can do a lot with that and it's cool we hint at a lil more of the mystery behind Teach himself.

Of course, Caribou coming full circle is interesting too. A lot of people saw this coming. He is a total Blackbeard simp and yeah that makes sense. He knows a lot about the anicent weapons. This could put Wano and/or Fishman Island at risk. Those are big possibilities. All in all, feels like Egghead is really escalating. Riding this line of moving to an apparent conclusion while hinting more and more something is amiss.

#one piece #chapter 1107 #post-wano musings

[blobghost]

Blobby's Master List

You can find all my writing under the tag #blobby wrote something or you can look below! Click fic title to take you to its post! (In order of oldest to newest)

Ectober 2021 Masterlist (DP)

ectober ficlets

Exhausted Teen to Eternal King (DP)

Essentially exiled from Amity after a reveal gone wrong, Danny is on his way to becoming High King of the Infinite Realms. With a quick stop by the Core, who tells him about being an Ancient and something concerning about how the portal works, Danny ‘survives’ his final trial and coronation with only like ten different new things to worry about! Now, he just has to face his parents, stop the permanent portal that killed him, and repair a giant hole in reality. So like just another Tuesday for him. Written for Invisobang '23.

Anaktáomai: regain for oneself, recover (DPxDC)

Jason is trying to live his second chance at life to the fullest: protecting Gotham's streets as the Red Hood, going to college to get a degree, participating in Gotham's Renaissance Faire, getting a boyfriend, all of it. Sure, he's been daydreaming a lot more and it might be becoming a major problem and his boyfriend is apparently a meta who saved his kid brother after a mission gone wrong, but as far as he was concerned those were nothing to worry about. What he does need to worry about is homework and rogues attempting to kill him… right?

Take the L (DP)

Dash wants nothing more than to be a hero. When he gets a chance to be Phantom's hero for once, he takes it. Things get complicated when Dash finds out that his dad is Operative L of the GiW and demands that Dash hand over Phantom. Can Dash make things right or is everything doomed to go wrong?

Blobs of Love (DP)

Danny has been protecting Amity Park alone for what feels like years. After a long day of sleep deprivation and various rogues pushing him to his limit, he finally starts breaking down when he can't fully switch from Phantom to Fenton. Unfortunately, certain blobs who love him can't stand to see him break so bring in some help. Written for Ecto-Implosion '23.

Battle for the Ancient Realms (DP)

After having to go to the Far Frozen to check why his ghost sense is acting up, Danny finds himself the primary target during a fight with Dan and Pariah Dark. Things get more complicated when the Ancient Seals of the Barren Realms become involved. Now, Danny has to learn about the Ancients and the new powers these Seals provide the wearer before once again fighting the two hardest foes he's ever faced. Written for Ecto-Implosion '23.

Danny Doesn't Want To Go... (DP)

Five times someone drags Danny somewhere he didn't want to go and one time he drags them somewhere. Written for Phandom Truce '23.

Holding Each Other Back (DPxDC)

When the GIW appear in Gotham, Jason finds himself needing to find out what they are up to. Unfortunately, they find him first and use him as the nice sacrifice for their Ghost King summoning. Will Jason be able to fight his way out of this mess with his secrets (and life) in tact? Written for Ecto-Implosion '23.

I Know What You Are. You're (Not) a Goon. (DPxDC)

Jason can't figure out why his boyfriend keeps missing or being late to dates. He thinks that Danny is a goon, but it's only a theory. He might get his answers from the newest Justice League member Phantom, though. Written for Valentine's Core Exchange '24.

#blobby wrote something #masterlist

[deficd]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

respond to the prompts out of character!

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have? oh man. uh. i guess, following my url's general meaning, i choose to write muses on here that have defied their fates/expectations in some shape or form. this is true for more of my older muses on here, as i've definitely added some recently where i have to kinda twist that a bit. aside from that, i really just write muses that i can connect with on some level. my apparent calling is sad men who are prone to violence and are also incredibly sad/lonely. the mains i have floating in my head are usually there because it's the current media i'm consuming (i.e. star wars: the old republic). i could write long metas on why i adore all of my muses though. c':

is there anything you don’t like to write? uhh, you know. i'm actually pretty open to most things. i need some sort of action going on, regardless of the type, to keep interested i suppose. like, if there's a lot of conversation, i tend to get stuck. that's just because i struggle with it and i don't want to bore my partner, though. aside from that, pretty much any genre you throw at me, i'll be interested in writing.

is there anything you really enjoy writing? I'm a sucker for redemption au's, even if it takes thirty threads to get there. i enjoy writing the aftermath of a character's worst arc, and all of the guilt, pain, and sorrow that comes with it. so do i want to write arcann's redemption? yes. do i want to write about nihilus somehow healing from being a literal wound in the force? yes. (or even, writing who he was before malachor.) ragnar going back to being a farmer? please. all of it, yes. aside from that, i really, really enjoy hurt/comfort, violent/gore threads, general sci-fi adventure, and general fantasy adventure (the campfires, the fights, the enemies in between destinations, etc.)

how do you come up with headcanons?  it's kind of a mix between being inspired by outside sources, such as media, music, mututals, and things that pop into my head after hyperfixating about a muse for three straight hours or something. i do adopt headcanons/partial headcanons from other people, but like sparingly and if it's appropriate/i know them/have asked. most of the time i really just get hit in the face with them though.

do you write in silence or do you play music? i am someone that requires music to write. i need to drown out distractions however i can. i really struggle with being easily distracted (getting tested for adhd soon lol) because i can very easily lose a thought before i'm able to write it down. i find that with music i can focus better, and i have playlists that help with whatever mood i'm going for in the reply.

do you plan your replies or wing them? i usually just sort of write what comes to mind first and then, if i have questions about something, i'll either approach the other mun or write things in the tags. sort of referring to the previous question, i try to write my ideas down as soon as i see a reply, or i'll be prone to forgetting them.

do you enjoy shipping? yes, 1000% yes. i love all sorts of relationships, not only the romantic ones. i don't really get to write about platonic/friendships too often, but i really enjoy the times i can. that said, re: romantic ships, i'm usually on board if there's chemistry between muses. i also encourage other muns to approach me if they think they might want to ship because chances are, i'm already on board.

what’s your alias/name?  Lee

age?  old

birthday?  December 25th

favorite color?  silver, purple, black

favorite song?  i... don't think i can choose? there are all sorts of songs that hit me in the right way. i can tell you a song i'm listening to on repeat right now is The Wind Weeps Eleanor by American Murder Song.

last movie you watched?  Hagazussa: A Heathen's Curse, but I hope to go see Dune 2 this week.

last show you watched?  just started Shōgun and it's wonderful.

last song you listened to?  Dwamn by Tech N9ne 🫣 

favorite food?  fry bread! or a step further: navajo tacos.

favorite season?  winter

do you have a tumblr best friend? um i think i'm close to a few people on here, but the only one i know i can tag for sure is @vuulpecula starbuck has put up with my nonsense on here for years and somehow still talks to me lmfao we have the greatest and the worst ships and honestly i am always always always excited to write with her❤️❤️❤️

and idk if i should tag u because this is an rp meme and this is one of my rp blogs but @oolathurman is my other bestie and i've known and adored them for literal years so. yeah sflkjdslf❤️❤️❤️

TAGGED BY @valorums thank you<3

TAGGING @vuulpecula @riiese @hcxcd @fasciinating @juramentum @mistrdctr / @respondedinkind @auroradicit @red-white-and-trauma @blue-eyed-banshee @helreginn @astridnorddottir @brittlefcrged and YOU!

#dash games. #about the idiot. #x: don't fall behind (queue.)

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey! I was wondering if you know any fic where Sherlock and John have an actual conversation in TEH where they sit down and discuss their feelings? I know that’s not very much like them at all (and that’s why they didn’t do it lol) but I would love to see it to heal by heart a little bit.

Tbh I just needed them to come back slowly to what they were before and I feel like they never quite did *cries*

Thank you! (and sorry for all the long text)

Hey Nonny!

Ahhh, funnily enough, I THOUGHT I did have a list, but apparently not one dedicated specifically to them actually talking, LOL! I think it's because I consider them to be "confession" fics instead :P So let's start a new list! Yay! I just perused for the "communication" tag, so enjoy!"

Enjoy!

COMMUNICATION

See also:

Love Confessions / Slow Burn / Dev. Rel. (Fluff Version)

/ Love Confessions, Slow Burn & Dev. Rel. Pt. 2 /

Love Confessions Pt. 3

Love Confessions Pt. 4

Love Confessions Pt. 5

Christmas-Time Love Confessions

Arguments Lead to Confessions

Arguments Lead to Confessions Pt 2.

Communication (Swissmiss list)

Green Carnation by glenien (T, 2,616 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Meta-Fic, Angst and Fluff, Communication, Post-TAB) – John takes Sherlock home. Part 1 of It’s No Longer Eighteen Ninety-Five

Measuring Damage With the Fujita Scale by teahigh (T, 3,548 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss / Time, Vacation / Holidays, Friends to Lovers, Bed-Sharing, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Angsty Fluff, Scars, Awkward Talks) – John goes back into town, into the storm, and Sherlock realises he forgot to say, “I just want to be alone with you.”

MR# 1430155 by blueink3 (T, 3,560 w., 1 Ch. || Talks of Parentlock, Baby Watson, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Fluff and Angst) – John paces the length of the not inconsiderable hallway and glances at his phone for the tenth time since he exited the hospital room seven minutes ago. Sherlock’s last text was sent at 5:06pm. It is now 5:39pm. He should be here by now. After all, his daughter is 46-minutes-old and if John is going to share this momentous event with someone, it sure as hell isn’t going to be the woman who just gave birth to her. Part 5 of Tumblr Prompts

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) –  When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier. 

At the Heart of it All by SilentAuror (E, 19,823 w., 1 Ch. || Virgin Sherlock, Post S3, POV John, Domestics, First Time, Kissing, Romance) – John has been back at Baker Street for four months now and thinks it's about time they had the Talk to see whether or not they could be more than friends. Sherlock has a lot of uncertainty about this concept for multiple reasons. Unabashed romance.

LHR-HNL by scullyseviltwin (E, 35,066 w., 7 Ch. || Hawaiian Vacation, Post-TRF, Friends To Lovers, Slow Burn, Just Talk Already, Drinking, Mutual Pining) – In need of an endangered flora sample, Sherlock and John must make a trip to an unexpected destination.

You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w., 17 Ch. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) –  John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Developing Relationship, Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball 

MARKED FOR LATER

Everything by glass_rose_paperweight (G, 1,603 w., 1 Ch. || Post-T6T, Angst, Pre-Slash, Communication) – Sherlock is devastated after Mary is shot and John's world falls apart. He is devastated further by Molly delivering the news that John has decided to cut Sherlock out of his life. But what if Sherlock didn't just take it? What if he got justifiably angry and burst into the flat to give John a piece of his mind?

The Norwood Bewilderment by Long_Time_QT (G, 4,128 w., 1 Ch. || Early S2 Fic, Asexual John, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Romantic Fluff, Communication) – Sherlock was strangely quiet for the cab ride home, and John wasn’t about to break the oppressive silence before they reached the privacy of their own flat. Instead, he went over the moment in his head, playing it on repeat. There was no mistaking it. They had definitely and irrefutably kissed. Or rather, Sherlock had kissed John. But it was a kiss nonetheless. A sudden, passionate, heat-of-the-moment kiss. And he’d liked it.

Never Been Better by LoloLolly (G, 4,913 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TSo3, Missing Scene, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Drug Use, Oblivious John, Concerned John, Communication, Alternation POVs, Angst) – John gets married. Sherlock leaves the wedding reception early, but he’s fine. Fine. The seven percent solution? It helps him think. If only Baker Street didn’t seem so empty. But he’s perfectly okay. Never been better, in fact. Never been better.

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Relationship Discussion, Communication, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock Whump, Doctor John, Huddling for Warmth, BAMF John, Case Fic, Drinking) – Do you think we’re less than that – best friends? Or more?’ John’s head pulled back, and the look he received suggested John was seriously wondering how someone so intelligent could be so stupid. ‘Well, definitely not less.’ When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

Olivia by poechild (T, 6,446 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3/Mary, Mary’s/Baby’s Dead, Caring John, Crying Sherlock, Emotions, Talking, Communication, Protective John, Friendship, Past Child Death) – John discovers something about Sherlock's past that brings up many much needed conversations.

The Rainbow Connection by honeybee_motorcyles (M, 13,161 w., 7 Ch. || Post-TRF, Autistic Sherlock, American Road Trip, Understanding, Communication, PTSD Sherlock, Regression, Aspergers, Angst and Fluff) – A Road Trip is the best cure for Sherlock and John's relationship.

Hot Water Bottle by khorazir (T, 18,436 w., 1 Ch. || Post TLD / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, Communication, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Autumn, Bed Sharing, Developing Relationship, First Kiss) – A case in one of the remotest corners of the Lake District, a storm, an inn, a broken boiler, a room with two beds but only one hot water bottle, and two men who have a lot to sort out between them – all of this makes for a night to remember.

Loosed Reins by AggressiveWhenStartled (E, 35,095 w., 11 Ch. || Fighting, BAMF John, Explicit Consent, Safe Sex, Power Dynamics, Arguing About Feelings, Communication) – “You’ve stuffed an entire body into the fridge this time,” John accused. “What happened to the milk? The leftover risotto? My bloody jam?” Sherlock opened his eyes at that. “As a doctor, it should be readily apparent to you that there is only a partial body in our refrigerator. Popular horror stories notwithstanding, it’s rare for an entire corpse to fit into one this size. I had to cut it up into several parts to pack it in, and there is still only seven eighths of it there.” John stared at the ceiling. “That’s... not better.” Part 1 of Arguing and Corpses

In Bed by Ellipsical (E, 46,922 w., 12 Ch. || Autofellatio, Vibrators, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Coming Out, Liminal Identities, Christmas, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Fingering, Jealous John, Therapy, Flirting, Texting, Fluff, Sherlock’s Violin, Anal, Est. Rel., Semi-Public Sex, Harry Watson, Communication, Coming in Pants, Spitroasting, Double Penetration, Dirty Talk, Internalized Homophobia, Self-Acceptance, Happy Ending, PTSD John, Coping Mechanisms, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) – It’s almost Christmas, John thinks, and this, this is bullshit. The epilogue to Guilty Secrets. Part 2 of Guilty Secrets

The Night Is Darkest by missselene (E, 48,461 w., 8 Ch. || Post-TLD, Extremely Dub Con, S4 Rage Monster John, Insecure Sherlock, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Exploration, Healing, Self Care, Self Acceptance, Sexual Exploration, Casual Sex, Gentle Sex, Sherlock/OMC, Threesome with 2 OMCs, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Communication, Internalized Homophobia, Relationship Negotiation) –  Sherlock Holmes would do anything for John Watson... and that includes letting John do whatever he wants to him. What would it take for Sherlock to stand up for himself and finally start taking care of his own needs?

The Noble Heart by All_I_need (E, 98,574 w., 27 Ch. || S3 Fix It, Minor Character Death, Slow Burn, Grief, Pining Sherlock, Bed Sharing, Hurt/Comfort, Communication, Fluff, Mary is Not Nice, Massages, Friends to Lovers) – When John's wedding gets horribly derailed on the big day itself, it falls to Sherlock to help him pick up the pieces, even if it means letting others do the sleuthing for once. But as the police embarks on what looks like a simple murder investigation, the case soon turns into something else entirely as more and more details about Mary's life emerge. But Mary wasn't the only person keeping secrets and Sherlock knows it's only a matter of time until his own will come to light.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #communication fics #love confession fics

[utilitycaster]

So while I’m an imodna enjoyer, I absolutely agree to the agree-est of agrees that the most interesting thing they could do is break up right now. I don’t think they will, but I would love to see it. My concern mostly comes down to how fandom would react to Marisha or Laura if they did. I enjoy them [the ship] for their codependency and inability to do anything without consistently ignoring their own emotions or comfort to do so. They should absolutely break up. It would be so good. So interesting, I think. I, again, just know fandom would not be normal about it especially when Marisha got so much shit just for saying that Beauregard wasn’t quite serious about Yasha yet, and that was before the ship even had a canon kiss. This? Would be hellfire and as much as id love it, I would literally never open the critical role tag ever again out of fear lol.

Hey anon,

I just deleted a somewhat similar ask and I do respect any choice people made to back away from fandom for their own personal well-being but ultimately...I don't care how the broader fandom responds. This shit pre-dates my entry into the fandom (people freaked out, apparently, when Gilmore's status was unknown in C1 when Hotis attacked Whitestone) and it's not exclusive to CR by any means (see: everything happening with the Good Omens fandom because the two main couples did engage with the various problems and communication issues and different desires they had). It's unavoidable, and honestly, it's kind of exhilarating to me. I am, as I say, a STEM bitch, and meta feels like a sort of logic problem, and a good way to piece together that logic is to find the holes in what others say. You need the bad opinions to be out there in order to best formulate the good ones.

Anyway: I'd rather have a good story than a docile fandom, and I'm posting that one block evader's alts mostly so that people who are more hurt by their statements can take precautions but they are ultimately on par with a disease-free mosquito to me: extremely annoying but not any kind of threat.

In the end, what I need to get on board with the ship is some kind of canon engagement with the core of it: that Imogen told Laudna repeatedly to her face "hey what if your murderer was right." I don't mind if that exploration comes in the form of a breakup, or a fight, or an honest and open mature conversation, or discussions with other party members, or leaning into the codependency; I just need there to be some stakes. Conflict would interest me, but it doesn't need to be a blow-up (though I really do think a breakup would be a new and incredibly good direction - there's a reason why Laerryn and Loquatius manage to have a trillion times the chemistry in a fraction of the time and it's the path from their introduction to their conclusion) - just the introduction of the idea that there is some line that would be crossed under some circumstances, or an exploration of the toxicity of having no such line. I think a lot of people feel the same! I don't think there's many people other than outright homophobes who think of Imodna as an absolute NOTP - it's just that a lot of us find it lacking, and it's a lack that can be addressed.

#answered #Anonymous #good omens spoilers #ngl hilarious that i need to tag this as go spoilers #tbh with the exception of like. things that creep me out/things that go against a character's established sexuality? #i have almost no true NOTPs just unmet conditions #ships i've soured on due to terrible fandoms are blocked for the fans not the mere concept of the characters together #cr tag