#i have another shitpost give me a moment

[im-still-a-robot]

This is why god hates him. No other reason.

#crazy coconuts #dnd #lucifer #this is.. our.. is he supposed to be our main antagonist? #i think i like him too much to have an unbiased opinion #but i digress. #the eyes are god in our campaign #probably. likely. hopefully. theres a name i will not invoke just because it keeps me awake at night that could be the entity im calling god #but for our intents and purposes here. that is (abrahamic? biblical?) god #also i deleted a whole ass guy that was standing where god is now #the old fashioned way (mimicing the surrounding background by hand) #all in all. this post is just for me i think #if you want to learn more. ask box >:] #i have a playlist for luci i am chewing on and i am a bit embarrassed to beam all my outlandish theories and thoughts at my dm #i have another shitpost give me a moment

[areislol]

men i trust

ft— various male genshin x gn! reader

warning — mutual pining (?), smitten men, fluff, modern! au, mentions of sex (it's a party/club), mentions of drugging/spiking drinks, mentions of a junkie

a/n— they're the men you can trust fr, another shitpost of mine....

wordcount. 1.9k

synopsis. an alternative title, them holding your drink at a party.

In the midst of pulsating music and vibrant laughter and chatter at a lively party, you along with a friend you've bought stood next to one another near a couch, dancing to the beat with just a little effort.

The thumping bass and flickering lights seemed to swirl around them as they engaged in a conversation, after a couple of minutes you turned to him with a soft smile.

"Hey, do you mind holding my cup for a moment? I need to go to the bathroom!" you yelled over the loud music and chatter, pointing at your cup to indicate something to him just incase he didn't hear you.

He gave you a swift nod in response, "sure, take your time," he replied, extending his hands to accept the cup. You left him momentarily, weaving through the vibrant crowd toward the bathroom.

He stood by the couch, holding your cup as he eyed his surrounding, silently judging the swirl of people around him that were fucking on the couches.

the overly cautious/chivalrous pal, the type to grip onto that cup like his life depends on it. he will shoot glares to whoever's way if he needs to he is NOT messing around.

he takes the responsibility seriously and might even accompany you to the bathroom to ensure a safe return but since you insisted on going alone, he (reluctantly) let you go alone.

his palm is covering the top of your cup (don't worry he washed his hands) as he watches the people in his area like a guard dog, he won't even hesitate to threaten and fight whoever asks to take YOUR cup with absolutely NO shame whatsoever.

but his aura and built itself scares off people (which is why nobody disturbed the both of you) so he doesn't really have anything to worry about but even so, it won't hurt to be cautious.

he watches the people like a HAWK, it's scary actually. to see someone already (somewhat) intimating watching their every move, it ruined their vibe. but if ruining the vibe to make sure no creep does anything to him and your drink then so be it, not like them scurrying away will affect him in any way.

he treats your cup like it's precious jewel, so what if you could go get another if he accidentally dropped it? (he didn't, somebody bumped into him CURSE THEM which resulted into him dropping it by how big the impact was) so what if it was just a cup? it's YOUR FIRST cup!!!

oh did i mention how they won't hesitate to threaten and or fight somebody? oh well they would if they have to, not that they WANT to but the thought of a free man roaming around and spiking people's drinks doesn't sit right with him, what if you were a victim? he would never forgive himself if that ever happened.

which is why he always accompanies you to parties/clubs and nearly EVERYTIME you go out. not that you're complaining though

"hey, you there. pass me that cup.. ya know, from a guy to a guy, eh?" a drunkard 'pst'ed at him, eyeing the cup in his hand that he knew was yours. the drunkard really didn't think he couldn't see the shameless stares he was giving at you, did he?

he only glared at the drunkard (who by a coincidence looked like a junkie as well, it really pulled the pieces together), his eyes narrowing at him. he stayed silent, not wanting to even speak to him and answer, he wasn't worthy anyway.

as the drunkard kept on persisting and was inching closer and closer to him he knew enough was enough and would not allow that man to take one step closer to him and your cup (i mean it held your favourite soda so). "take one more step and i swear you will not live to see another day." the man, clearly confused and scared, stopped in his tracks.

"oh you're their boyfriend, uh? .... that shouldn't matter. you know what to do to help a man in need right? no need to threaten me!" the drunkard let out the most disgusting, vile laugh he had ever heard. he was now irritated. "you think i'm joking huh? would you still think i'm joking if i fought you right now?" his tone was sharp and lethal, he was not having any of it.

that man dare would spike your drink and even shamelessly ask him (not your boyfriend sadly) to pass you your cup? abso-fucking-not. before he knew it the drunkard was on the ground, and although drunk and dazed, was pleading for him to not have mercy on him. "p-please! have mercy on me i swear on my life to never do that ever a-again p-please!" it was a funny sight to say the least, to see him cry and beg for mercy. as he should.

"you better swear on that life of yours, if i ever see you in here asking another man to spike someone's drink you bet i'm beating your ass again. and i promise i won't let you live to see the light."

— ALHAITHAM, WRIOTHESLEY, capitano, diluc, WANDERER, pierro, DAINSLEIF

the reliable one, he is never drunk, barely really. even if he did drink he knew how to control it, he makes sure he's sober when being with you!!! he's fierce when protecting your cup and tries to be friendly/passive but if he needs to be, he will be violent, sigh... they were asking for it.

you know your cup is in safe hands. he is trustworthy and reliable when it comes to protecting your things when you ask for it.

he is positive that nothing will happen, for the couple of hours you've been there no trouble has stirred in the club so he was sure that nothing would happen as he patiently waited for you.

he sits up straight on the couch, holding the cup with his hands, his foot tapping on the ground. as he waits he notices from the corner of his eye someone scooching closer to him. at first he wasn't worried although he was a little on edge but you know, nothing much. but when they got too close for comfort he moved to the side, now focusing on the man.

"uhm, if you could please not come so close to me, thank you." he tried to polite, not wanting to anger the man. he looked sober, so he wasn't drunk nor on drugs. "why not, young man? hey whad'ya say..." his gaze drops to the cup in his hands, he immediately clenched the cup, creeped out. "$10 for that cup?"

"... you.... you do realize that this isn't mine right? why do you want the cup anyway?" at this point he wanted to walk away and never see him ever again but he was in too deep now, plus, he needed to wait here for you. the man chuckles and dismisses his question. "you needn't worry young man, take it or leave it."

without any hesitation he immediately refuses his offer. "no." his answer was blunt and cold, he wasn't messing around. the man slowly backed away upon hearing his tone, grumbling about how men these days don't take the bait.

he takes their role as the holder of your drink very seriously. you can trust that he'll keep a keen eye on it until your return.

but.. if by any chance they are drunk and the only person you trust to hold you drink, you still have faith in him of course! but to be honest when they're drunk they're a little bit... too much so it's okay, nobody will dare to come and talk to him.

— TIGHNARI, KAVEH, xiao, ZHONGLI, THOMA, pantalone, kazuha, AYATO, baizhu, albedo, gorou, NEUVILLETTE

the photographer guardian, they're armed with their phone and take a snapshot of your drink, proclaiming themselves the official cup guardian. they protect your drink yet ensure you have a visual record of your drink's momentary protector.

when he sees that your back is towards him he wastes no time in taking out his phone and snapping a picture of the cup before taking a selfie of him holing the cup to his face, just barely covering half of his face. he took many photos to say the least.

he posted it on his instagram story as well, to the poor soul's finger, take it easy on yourself as you vigorously tap on the screen to get rid of all of his stories.

and the captions? my god the captions. "haha guess who's the cup guardian rn?" "?!?!?! i wonder whose cup this is..." "look at me and this cup, wow... i'm like guarding it so hard rn"

what did "guarding it so hard" mean? no idea. obviously he takes his job seriously as well, but why not have a little fun? i mean you trust him of all people to hold your cup, to protect your cup from being tampered with. so yes, of course he will protect it with his life! if anyone was to come too close for comfort and eye your drink suspiciously, even just a little glance at your drink will put him on high alert.

he tries not to ruin his vibe at the club and refrains from arguing with the person but will not hesitate to throw hands if necessary!! he mumbles under his breath about how annoying this woman was, she randomly walked up to him and began to flirt with him in the hopes of inching closer to him and then maybe spike your drink.

trust me, he has a lot of experience with these types of people, people who flirt or make small talk in order to get closer to the person and then spike the drink without them noticing, unfortunately many people fall for their trick.

"ah, no. what are you trying to do? do you take me for someone stupid?" he's clearly offended that this person thought that they could really trick him. "you really think flirting with me will do you any good? spiking drinks are we?" he tsks, glaring at the woman. she scoffs and gets up from the couch and walks away angrily, her plan had failed.

when you come back and see him taking photos of him with your cup he immediately puts his phone away and acts like he did nothing. "huh? photo? pfffffff WHAATTT no never. no." you know he's lying. like c'mon you LITERALLY caught him in the action.

but please ignore all the notifications on your phone where he mentioned (@ed) you in the pictures he took, it was stupid, yes.

— CYNO, CHILDE, dottore, kaeya, LYNEY, heizou

begins to act feral and barks.. i mean it works so... that's all that matters right?

.... honestly, don't even ask me why or how. they saw one tiktok of someone barking at a man to scare them off and it worked so why not try it out? the second the suspicious man begins to make small talk with him (he looked around 40 years old, a junkie? mayhaps) he doesn't pay too much mind, if anything he exchanged a couple of words

but when he senses that something is off he tries to steer away from him, pointing at random things and trying to get the man to focus on another thing but alas, it did not work. he would do everything to keep your cup safe, so even though his way of keeping your drink safe is a bit silly he only means the best.

"WROOF BARK MEOW GRRRR" oh my days the attention he brought to himself when he began to bark? hello? it's so embarrassing but aye, it worked! the man, clearly terrified now began to back away and cursed at him. "you weirdo!" he yelled before running off. he only laughed it off, yes, he had no shame.

— ITTO, VENTI

note: i just woke up and i forgot i needed to write (9 am help)

taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!

another note: not proof read so if you found any spelling/grammar mistakes PLEASE tell me

#genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #baizhu x reader #kazuha x reader #ayato x reader #itto x reader #gorou x reader #heizou x reader #venti x reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader #freminet x reader #childe x reader #dainsleif x reader #aether x reader #pantalone x reader #pierro x reader #capitano x reader #lyney x reader #cyno x reader #al haitham x reader #kaveh x reader #dottore x reader #wanderer x reader #thoma x reader #genshin impact x you

[cosmicstarlatte]

Coffee Shop (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

You start a new job at a coffee shop in a popular plaza. You can't help but look forward to a certain regular. ♡

»Characters: Demon Bros + Dia + Barb

»Tags: Fluff, Bulleted Style, GN Reader, LeviLeviLevi-

»Notes: lol when was the last time I made a bulleted fic that wasn't a shitpost???🤯 Just simple short fluff lol, reblogs are appreciated + motivating ♡

Lucifer:

Always orders a cafe con leche every morning

Keeps interactions short but you learned his name

Always so serious but he does look like a business man

A very very handsome business man cough

After working there for a little bit he admits he likes the way you make his drink & hates when you guys miss each other on days off

One day he comes in normal clothes & you got caught off guard when he made it to the register

"It's my day off but I was craving my usual. I'm glad to see you're here."

Pleaseee you gotta be blushing right now alalfkfldk

You notice the record store bag he's holding & start a fun conversation while its slow

It does get busier & unfortunately have to cut the conversation to both your disappointments

"We can continue this later...maybe over dinner if you're available?"

Mammon:

Usually gets an icy blended drink, the flavor changes frequently

You see him every other day, it looks like he works at a retail store in the plaza

You thought he was cute & funny despite how loud he could be

One day he defends you against a really rude customer

You say your thank yous & give him his drink for free that day

"Yeah I guess I am a hero. Heroes get free drinks all the time though, ya?"

You couldn't help but laugh & accidentally let slip "you're really cute!"

He starts choking on his drink, stuttering & blushing

He goes silent for a moment before asking, "whaddaya say to a date one of these days?"

Levi:

Usually orders sweet drinks & likes trying seasonal/limited time things

You've seen him at his job at the anime store in the plaza, since you visit there sometimes

You two are on friendly terms even though he can be awkward

You think he's very cute though, especially when he talks about his passions

You felt like you two were dancing around eachother so you decide to make a move

You drew a Gundam robot on his drink & wrote 'Gun-DAM you're cute!'

You nervously handed the drink & he took it without noticing the drawing on it

You watched as he left the shop,took another sip, then stop as he looked at his drink

You could see he was happily freaking out but then abruptly stop

He looked back to the shop & you waved a shy hello

He ran back inside to make sure, "S-sorry is this a mistake? W-was this for someone else??"

"Look on the bottom"

He raised the cup & looked under

Levi, AkuCon this weekend?

Satan:

Usually orders a simple cappuccino but will add a flavored syrup occasionally

Comes in often on his breaks

You've seen him working at the bookstore in the plaza

He looks like a simple guy yet very charming

You always notice a book on him & one day you decide to ask what he's reading

You learn you read the same things & start having fun conversations every time he stops by

Eventually he asks you if you'd be able to give your thoughts on his writing

"Sure, I'd be happy to read it if you bring it!"

He gave you a flirty smile

"Actually I was thinking maybe we could hang out...like somewhere that's not here?"

Asmo:

Always orders an iced vanilla oat milk latte

You see him every few days, really friendly customer that loves to chat & you become friends quick even though you want more

You find out he works at a nearby agency & is an up & coming model

You felt a little intimidated, he could be really famous one day!

Nevertheless you treat him just the same even as those around him changed, he lets you know how grateful he is

One day he comes in upset & tells you the agency is moving across town to a bigger location so he won't be able to see you there anymore

At the same time both of you blurt out

"I still wanna see you!"

Beel:

You never know with this guy

He works in the sports store across from the cafe

He's always indecisive with the menu & one day just tells you to make whatever

You're his fave barista, he thinks you make the best drinks either way

Doesn't realize he just likes everything & has a crush on you

You can't help but get excited when he looks excited to see you golden retriever energy

You find out he's a foodie type & you guys talk about the local spots around town

"Would you like to check out the new sandwich store that opened a few doors down? Uh...like, maybe a date?"

Belphie:

Usually orders a hot regular latte but occasionally orders hot chocolate

He appears to be a student as he comes in often to study & always looks tired

One day on your break you decide to chat him up & offer help on the subject he was struggling with

He thought you were cute & was thankful for your help

After a few weeks of tutoring (+some heavy flirting), he passed his exam flawlessly

"Actually can you help me with one other thing?"

"Yeah, what?"

"Would you like to go on a date sometime?"

Diavolo:

Has a new favorite every week but really likes lattes/teas

You can tell he's important with his assistant present

You wonder why the assistant doesnt just get his order though

Anyway hes hot really friendly & chatty & can tell a few good jokes, you appreciate them!

He always seems reluctant to leave the shop which makes your heart flip

Always leaves a big tip! ... I want him to give me a big tip 😔

The two of you find out you have a lot more in common than you thought

One day he admits that these coffee runs are the things he looks forward to the most since his day is usually very busy & doesn't get much else normalcy

He lets slip that it's mainly seeing you that adds to his joy so he goes all in

"If you're interested, care to join me for dinner this weekend?"

Barbatos:

Always large orders of a few different drinks (part of his job)

Though you notice he always orders tea for himself & likes to buy different tea blends

He's a very (cute) polite customer, one of the few

You two usually chat as you make his large order & you can't help but fall for him

Knowing he loves to buy limited release tea blends, you usually save him one before the cafe sells out

You never tell anyone about it but:

"I appreciate you always saving me one."

"Oh? How did you know!?"

"I have a friend who stopped by earlier & said it was one of those times they missed out. Yet, there always appears to be one for me even after sell-out. Thank you kindly."

You blush at being found out, "seems I've been caught!"

He chuckles & gives you another shock:

"I've been meaning to ask...will you allow me to take you out one of these days?"

⬦You might also like: Customer Service︱Devil-Mart ⭐️︱You Are The Father︱MC feeling Insecure

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹ #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos

[blerb-f1]

"The Future" - Sebastian Vettel x reader

The news truly shocked me and compelled me to write this.

Lewis Hamilton is a side character in this.

not proofread i dont have the mental capacity rn

This fic also is kinda part of a series, but it can stand on it's own! For more, view my masterlist.

-------

“Have you considered it at least?”

A fragmented voice sounding through a tin-like phone speaker asked with a certain pressure behind it. The kind of pressure you’d only hear from people who wanted something. Something important.

Sebastian eyed the phone hesitantly, placing it on the windowsill while holding his watering can. Little droplets sliding down it’s side as he attempted to water his dried pot of basil - traveling was never something that helped in plantkeeping, not when you’d spend half the year in random hotels somewhere in the world.

He did not feel the need to return to the circus known as Formula 1, having enjoyed his time there but entirely content with retirement. Opposed to some of the others, he thought, he knew when to quit. No longer circling the biggest cities on earth but the supermarket parking lot in hopes of finding an empty spot. More importantly, waking up in his own bed for 7/7 days a week was a major joy to him, a feeling he didn’t feel like giving up.

“You know as well as i do, that we need an  experienced driver. George’s good but… He just can’t give us the direction needed.” Toto sounded quite serious at that moment - Lewis deciding to leave must have hurt him badly, considering him approaching Sebastian.

“Also… I just want someone i can trust to be around me”

Looking up in surprise, Seb almost dropped the watering can on the floor. Lewis leaving had REALLY hurt him.

“I’ve been thinking about retiring from F1 now. But they’d probably cancel F1 Academy without me around. Force Susie into Submission. I don’t want that. Fuck no.”

“Toto, I-” Sebastian started speaking, plucking the dead leaves from his pot of basil. “I like life. I love peaceful mornings.”

Silence. The phone speaker didn’t echo out for a few moments. 

“What would you say, if i told you we had a championship winning car?”

—-----------------------------------------------

“You really agree to it?” Sebastian asked, Surprise lingering on his voice.

“Of course i do, i’ve seen you thirst for racing while you yourself didn’t. I was with you from the beginning till the end of your career, don’t you think i’d be able to read you by now?” Y/N answered him, their eyebrows pulled together in a mild emotion.

“But there’s a catch.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll be your race engineer. Like i’ve always been”

“Huh?” Seb asked again, this time even more surprised than before. Y/N nodded seriously. “I can’t see you race with another Engineer at your side. It feels wrong.”

The man man pondered for a moment, his brain racking. “You’re right. I’ll talk to Toto.”

A week later, Mercedes made an announcement. For the 2025 season, Bono would be moving to the lead Race Engineer position, not being directly responsible for a single racer. The community was confused, unsure of what was happening. Would they be promoting a rookie racer and engineer to grow their youth? Would they be getting a driver and engineer paring from another team?

Twitter and Reddit Artists were working hard, creating shitpost after shitpost, pundits podcast over podcast as the season progressed, trying to figure out who’d be the next racer.

Meanwhile Sebastian and Y/N were busy in their own ways. Practicing their communication again, the driver getting physically fit and in shape again. Moreso than he had been during his time at Aston Martin. This was going to be serious - no more lazing around. Go hard or go home.

Y/N worked with Bono - the man they used to work against- to get used to the Mercedes way of communication. It was very difficult, more strict compared to the free Red Bull. More lenient compared to the crazy Ferrari. More rule governed, compared to Aston Martin. Peter Bonnington was surprised in his own way, understanding why L/N and Vettel were the scary Duo they had been all this time. They had been a team since 2008, their shared time rivaling his and Lewis. Lewis- that was a mental direction he shouldn’t go to. Mercedes would need to win the championship, no time to waste on stupid thoughts.

As the season progressed and Fans grew mad with their speculation, Mercedes made a post on their instagram. It was a Photo of one of the trees outside their HQ, with a little bee fluttering around it. One single Description. “We love nature”.

Fans went wild with speculation, thinking, planning, shitposting. 

Then one day, two weeks away from the season beginning, the news fell. Two announcement posts in a single day. Y/N L/N heading to Mercedes as Race Engineer, Sebastian Vettel as driver. Mercedes returning back to their silver arrows livery.

The community went wild, the thing they’d never expected had happened.

Lewis meanwhile, was downtrodden. He had expected this move to work out differently. Ferrari clearly designated Charles as Driver 1, not adjusting around him like he’d gotten used to. Their bad race engineering got him into trouble many times. Seeing this news almost broke him. They had replaced him with his friend, who didn’t speak a single word of this? Shame on him.

Shortly after, a Video went online on the Mercedes Account. Sebastian and Y/N were seated among the many championships belonging to Mercedes, clad in white teamgear. Their eyes were determined, telling people they hadn’t arrived to play. As Sebastian took of his hat, people noticed the change. His own cold smile had returned, the one that caused people to call him a smiling assassin. His locks short again, like when he’d won his own championships. Y/N had assimilated, they’re hair bleached and dyed into a silvery colour. 

Fans once again were shocked, they truly hadn’t expected Sebastian to return like this. More akin to the way Schumacher returned but apparently that was not the choice Vettel made - he was here to win, not for the participation trophy.

As the season opener in Australia rolled around, many eyes were glued to the screen. Y/N was sitting on a bicycle along with their driver on his own, passing over the track. Taking in texture, dirt and heat. The media approached them back in the pits, shoving microphones in their face. Y/N just grunted, showing the media a literal middle finger before dipping into the Mercedes pitwall. 

This was the same paring as back in 2011, ready to fight. Qualifying went well, dangerously well. It was as if Seb hadn’t left F1. But not the 2022 Version, the 2012 Version. His defense was ruthless, his attacks even more. He utilised all the skills he had honed over years, even the smallest tricks Michael had once explained to him to gain a faster time. As he crossed over the finish line in first position, Martin Brundle screamed out loud. Nobody had expected this, nobody thought he could win a race again. Toto was jumping in the Mercedes Garage, Y/N jumping along and almost throwing the headset down.

Sebastian on the radio was back to his own, singing, cheering and screaming absolute gibberish. Pulling into Parc Fermé, he was surprised at having the camera and microphone pushed into his face. This new way of doing things was very unusual to him. 

“So Sebastian, tell us how you’re feeling.”

“I feel like i belong” was his simple answer, pushing the camera out of his face as he headed to get weighed. He took a short look at the staircase leading up to the podium. It had been a while since he had last set foot onto them. They were almost scary but he knew, he was secure. A hand placed on his shoulder, one that he had felt there for many years. Y/N was there to get the constructors trophy, truely the only appropriate person today.

The clothing wasn’t the same as in the past, but the energy was. People were cheering, even more were booing. Not wanting another Era of Mercedes Dominance. Booing however, did nothing to deter Sebastian or Y/N. After all, they were the original Red Bull Villains. 

Ignoring the rules, they let the champagne down to the team to enjoy. This was their first victory after a few years as well, they deserved it after sacrificing two seasons to get this car made.

Then, a lone camera man captured an almost painfull view. Lewis Hamilton, clad in the strong Ferrari Red standing aside, looking up to the silver team with sadness and longing in his eyes. This hurt him, it truly did. Tears were welling in his eyes as the camera man moved away tactfully, instead capturing the celebrating couple instead.

The season progressed, a grandslam in all eyes. Win after win - not a single Race lost. As the Final in Bahrain rolled around and Sebastian collected his fifth driver’s championship, he knew he had found a new family and home. Y/N and him were celebrating wildly, the basil on the windowsill long forgotten among the glory and the parties, the heat and the energy.

It was that day, that a man entered a plane back to his new home in Italy. Eying the still not fully unpacked furniture, he settled onto a lightly dusted chair. Had leaving Mercedes truly not been the right decision? Lewis looked at a photobook a fan had gotten him. From winning with McLaren, the years with Nico and Valtteri, Mercedes had truly grown into his home and Family. What had made him leave them then? Was it the thirst for glory? Had he not enjoyed the atmosphere anymore? He felt conflicted. People had told him that Ferrari would break him. He didn’t want to believe them, but they were right. The red team had once again done what it did best. Destroy someone. Lewis looked back on Sebastian’s Face, remembering his defeated expression after the years of fighting with the red team. Of getting recognition for Kimi as well. Of standing up against Charles.

Lewis considered his options, putting his own life on the golden scale. Then, he made a decision. Opening instagram, he made a single post. Cuddling Roscoe, the description was simple, something nostalgic almost. “I hereby announce my retirement from Formula 1”

#blerb writes #f1 x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #lewis hamilton #nonbinary!reader

[silentmoths]

A vampires guide to feeding from a hemophobic partner. Ft. Neuvillette

*Pokes head out of the shadows*

Well heya. S'been a while.

What's brought this on? it started as a minor shitpost to @crystalflygeo's musings on vampire Neuv, and her mentionings of hemophobia- you know what it'll be easier to show yall.

So thats it. an elaborate shitpost.

Neuvillete x F! Reader. NSFW. Smut, general vampire goodness, Neuvillete being a fkn routine bitch because lets face it, he is.

Neuvillete could feel it. The…the pull, the desire, the need…the hunger.

The chief justice sighs as he pours over his paperwork. He would have to tell you tonight.

“Be beloved…I am hungry.” He tells you over dinner. Whilst he did not need to eat, He always made sure to prepare and join you for your evening meals…a routine one might say, he simply enjoyed spending time with his love, any spare moments he could get.

“Is that why you made steak for me tonight?” you question, knowing well his penchant for making you more Iron-rich dishes before he himself needed to feed.

Neuvillette nods solemnly, it was for your health after all; he would be remiss if he took and took only for you to become deficient. He doesn’t miss it, the sudden draining of colour from your face, or the increase in your heartbeat.

You were nervous, you always got nervous on feeding nights, and Neuvillette desperately wishes he could give you more time, but his hunger was a fickle thing, sometimes he could go weeks without needing to feed, others it was just a few days, it all hinged on how heavy his workload was. Yet he feels like more warning might be worse, because it would only psyche out his poor darling. Despite your absolute phobia of the very sight of blood, you insisted he feed off of you and you alone, an arrangement he happily complied with.

After all, whose blood better to nourish him than his darling’s?

He was always very organised when it came to this, anything for your comfort after all. After dinner and a bath, you find yourself gently tugged to bed with him, soft, nimble fingers gently massaging over your clammy skin. Sometimes you hated how afraid you were of this process, even though it had happened many many times now, without issue. You trusted Neuvillette. 

You trusted the way he spoke to you, the way he held you so gently in his arms, in the way his lips slowly travel the expanse of your throat. His murmuring compliments and praise as he slips behind you, your back pressing against his chest. Considering what he was, he always felt so…warm and inviting, welcoming, despite your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He always starts with a kiss. Most vampires prefer the side of the throat…it’s generally seen as an easier extraction point…and yet Neuvillette does not, not after discovering your aversion to blood; he instead chooses the nape, not as easy, and a little longer to extract his fill from, but this way, you never had to see a drop, and he could hold you close. “Are you ready, my darling?” At your nod, he hums, thanking you quietly before sinking his fangs in, using the light scarring from the times he’d done this before as a guide. 

Your blood tastes like the finest ambrosia to him, like the first sips of water after being stranded in the desert for weeks. If he never tasted another person’s blood again in his life, and only had yours, he would die a happy man.

He rumbles softly as you whimper, it stung, of course it did, even he understood that this was not a comfortable process. His arms cross over your chest, lovingly holding you close and steady, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles into your exposed shoulders.

He drinks and comforts until he’s had his full, until he can feel the warmth in his cheeks return. He watches and listens to you, always keeping a constant eye on your condition, he would never ever forgive himself if he overindulged and made you suffer for it. The next part is a rather rigorous and rushed process. His fangs retract and one of his hands quickly reaches for a disinfecting wipe, the moment he pulls his lips away, he presses the wipe over the wound, cleaning it up as he coo’s softly at you.

“You did well, my darling, it’s over now…let me take care of you.” he whispers in your ear, tone thick with love and joy. He feels much better now, and it was his turn to make you feel better.

He cleans and dresses the wound with careful hands, as he cleans you up, he tries his best to clean himself up, any errant droplet of your blood on his lips is licked away. “Rest a moment my sweet, I will be right back.” He whispers to you before vanishing into the bathroom to brush his teeth and rinse his mouth. Not exactly a necessity, but if it helped abate your fears in any way? He’d do it. You’re still a little shaky when he returns, but now that he’s sure that there is nothing, no sign of blood anywhere, you couldn’t see your wound, and he didn’t smell of it, he can finally descend to pull you into his strong, yet gentle arms, so he can pepper kisses along your face and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 

He’ll ask you what you want as a treat, it could be ice cream, it could be a slice of the sixteen-slice a day cake, he didn’t care how late it was, he would procure it no matter what. Anything for his darling.

 This was, is and always will be, the usual routine.

However, one day, your dear Iudex, has another idea. 

It starts, as all feeding evenings tend to. He cooks you a hearty, iron-rich meal, he warns you. Everything follows the usual, until you’re clean and showered, skin soft and silky from the fancy shower products he always insisted on keeping for you. (He had his own, but he was partial to body products that contained little scents.)

You sit in bed, awaiting your husband, and are taken aback when he walks in totally naked. His slim, yet sculpted physique on full display for you, pale skin unmarred by any scar or scratch, perfect in every way. “N-Neuvie?” you stammer as he crawls along the bed towards you, his gaze…sweet, yet predatory. “I thought-” “Oh my love, make no mistake, I will be feeding tonight…I just thought I’d try something…new to keep your thoughts from straying, hm?” Just what had you gotten yourself into?

Soon enough, you find yourself, face and chest pressed into the pillows your husband absolutely ploughs into you from behind, your cries muffled by the silken sheet, his hands pressing over yours, his fingers tangling between your own. You were trapped, well and truly trapped; you can't even recall the last time he’d destroyed your pussy like this. 

You hear his growl from above you, and you moan for it. It wasn’t often Neuvillette lost control like this, but when he did? It was its own form of ecstasy.

You’re so caught in pleasure, you never once felt the prick of his fangs, the only indicator of a change was the way his hands moved to press your chest into the bed further, holding your top half still whilst he continues to thrust into your sopping cunt like it was the last thing he’d ever do. You orgasm with a scream of his name before falling limp, fuzzy and barely-conscious against the sheets, only able to moan weakly when his hips snap forward, burying his cock as deep into you as it can before he cums, filling you with his hot seed.

That’s when you expect him to bite, when you’re in this soft, gauzy space of post orgasm. Yet he simply quietly tends to you, you feel the usual dressing gently press over the back of your neck and you blink in confusion.

“N-neuvie-” you whimper, his response is to gently take your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“It’s all over, my love. You did so well, you didn’t even notice.”

“W-wha..?”

You watch as he slowly rolls you over onto your back, giving your aggrieved spine a break after all that bending and arching. He reaches for the pitcher of water by the bedside, pouring you a glass first and helping you take small sips, before he takes a glass for himself, it wasn't quite his teeth-brushing routine, but for once, he didn’t feel it wholly necessary. 

You’re shocked, you really hadn’t felt it, there wasn't any pain.. “So.” He practically purrs as he leans over you to rub his nose against yours “what does my darling beloved want as her reward?” He asks, shifting some of his silky white hair from his face. 

“C-could we…do it like this more often?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper. This was so…out of the ordinary for him, to change up the routine…so you figure you might as well change up the reward.

He tilts his head at you before chuckling, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hands move down to your back, massaging at the sore spots and making you groan appreciatively.

“I think that can be arranged.”

Taglist: @stygianoir@meimeimeirin@ainescribe@dustofthedailylife@rjssierjrie@crystalflygeo@asoulsreverie@zomzomb1e@moraxsthrone@mysnowmanandmebaby@inlustris-is-slowly-dying@pvbbyb0y

#Silentmoth writes #man that tag has some dust on it now #Genshin Neuvillette #Neuvilette x reader #Neuvilette x reader smut #moths moots #its crys!!

[best-type-moon-couple]

The Winner of the “Best Type-Moon Couple” Tournament is…

Gilgamesh and Enkidu (52% of the Vote)

[Congratulations for the Runner-ups, Mr. Sakamoto Ryouma and Mrs. Sakamoto Oryou, who came close with 48% of the Vote]

Thank you so much to the 502 people who voted in the final poll, as well as everyone else who participated/nominated/followed this tournament. I appreciate every single one of you and hope to see you next time I do something like this again. Until then, thanks for voting, see you whenever there’s a next time!

Letter from the Mod (Under the Cut):

Introduction:

So… uh… been a while since we talked like this, completely nervous, unprepared tournament mod to the hundreds of thousands of potential listeners and followers of the poll. Well, now that it’s over, I want to introduce myself.

Hi, you can call me Snow. I’ve been a Type-Moon fan for about a year now. I got into this series when my cousin introduced me to “Fate” and from there I started to grow on this series at an… large… unnormal… potentially problematic and unhealthy way.

“Where’d the inspiration come from?”:

When I got into Fate, the one thing that reached out to me were the characters themselves and their relationship with one another, and the more I looked into the nasuverse, the more characters that I found that I feel in love with, the more I started to hate, the more I started to have convoluted and mixed feelings towards, but the one thing I loved about most was how characters interacted with each other and how well, or unwell, they get along and nothing else can show my love and appreciation for character dynamics than the couples of Type-Moon.

The couples of Type-Moon range anywhere from being weird to comical to sad to disgusting to wholesome and even genuinely life changing, with the characters themselves having dynamic that either showed how much they pine for love, how love broke them, how love managed to fix them, or by simply how wholesome they are. When Samurai Remnant released and featured a character who loves their spouse very much that they make it their main focus in game, juxtaposed by their spouse still showing their love and devotion for them, it was the thing that eventually caused me to make this tournament in the first place (they weren’t in the tournament though, but it’s the thought that counts).

Running the Tournament:

I was completely sure that I wanted to run this tournament, but the main caveat was the fact that I never ran a tournament like this before and it became very clear, very quickly that I had no idea what I was doing (the potentially weird rules for the tournament and the delayed start times were a big red flag of this, so I’m glad we had so many people stuck around despite that).

Still, I wanted to do my best for this tournament, so I created everything myself (with my sister helping to find a tournament bracket website). And when I mean everything I mean I edited together the main banner of the blog and edited together most of the couple portraits (I got lazy and used official art for some of them, guess which ones)

What’s next?:

Honestly, I want to do another tournament sometime. Obviously not immediately since I also want time off, but I’d also want to do something else and see more people come together to vote on something we all may or may not enjoy. And while I have no ideas at the moment (if you want to give any ideas then feel free to share then through the askbox or through the submission box) but maybe this blog will go through a renovation when I figured something out, hm?

Want to see what I do?:

Well, in case you wanna follow me specifically, then you can follow my personal blog (@player-blandon) for more of my personal things or things I post about games I like sometimes. I don’t post there consistently, and when I do it’s probably, mostly, shitposts unless I’m live-blogging a game I’m playing through or (in the most recent post’s case) doodled something I wanted to share. It’s the place where I share things sometimes and hopefully it’s a place where I can talk to all of you about some stuff as well (chances are I’m going to be posting more fate and type-moon things after this tournament).

Closing Thoughts:

Honestly, this tournament was a bigger undertaking than what I originally thought, but I’m glad I did this. I consider it a learning experience.

Thank you all once again for participating in this tournament. Congratulations to the King of Heroes and his only friend for winning and good job Ryouma and Oryou for putting on a good fight. We all put in a lot in this tournament and I hope to see you all again when I do something like this again…

…until then, I’ll see you whenever I can. Goodbye everyone. See you later!

#a couple’s battle #couple tournament #tumblr tourney #and then they kiss #end of the tournament #fate #fate grand order #fate stay night #kara no kyoukai #tsukihime #mahotsukai no yoru #witch on the holy night

[richierambles]

More to the plural cartman batshit theory because I'm still thinking about it

I know it's not normal to have my brain so consumed by something that started as a fucking shitpost but pls bear with me

Disclaimer this is still a batshit theory and not rly that serious even tho I'm lowkey obsessing with it lmao

The Cartman System (i need to give them a name 💀): Alters List

Hitler: LMAO WAYS TO START IG- but listen up. It's one of the most obvious alters ever. Like, if they're a system, I'm 100% sure they have a Hitler factive. Probably he gets front triggered when he's gotta act more commanding and stuff - like in The Passion episode (extremely obvious), or when they "become a ginger". He also hates Kyle more than anyone in their system, for obvious reasons 💀 (I don't support antisemitism in any way!!)

Hosts: yes, I mean hosts, in plural. I feel like in the first few seasons they only had 1 host, but he was also slowly splitting, until in Kenny Dies he finally split in 2 to cope with it. One of the hosts (calling him A) is more emotional, kinda like a normal(ish?) 8-9yo, meanwhile the other one (B) is the manipulative asshole we know Cartman as. Moments in which I think A fronted would be when Kenny was in the hospital, saying he was his best friend and crying on Kyle's shoulder - B most likely had 0 control over it. Also, I'd like to believe A did want to use the fetuses to save Kenny, but seeing he was too late, B switched in to not be seen as emotionally weak. Usually they're both fronting together, but B definitely has much more control than A most of the time.

Jenniffer Lopez: another alter whose existence I'm pretty sure about. One of the first times she fronted was in s7 e5, and it started by her cofronting with both A and B (mainly B). But eventually B left front, leaving A alone with her. A is kinda a wreck so he was sincere when asking their friends for help, but as the end of the episode arrived, B fronted again triggering A and Jenniffer out, and acted like it all was an act and not serious. Jenniffer is also the one who wears drag confidently af- such as in the Make Bullying Kill Itself song.

Little(s): I'm 99% sure cartman's system has at least 1 little, if not more. I feel like one of the times in which we see them front is in Cartman's Mom is a Dirty Slut, when Cartman's doing a tea party with his stuffed animals. They're also the ones who play most with said stuffies - when most of the others are playing, they're actually communicating with each other in a more socially acceptable way (because cmon it's more normal to talk to your stuffies out loud than to yourself, mainly if you're 8-9yo)

By the way, I'm still by the beginning s10 so this will be improved as I watch more episodes :)

#join my plural cartman agenda >:3 #plural hcs #eric cartman #south park #sp headcanons #south park headcanons #south park hcs #eric cartman headcanons #plurality #actually plural #plural system #plural community #sysblr #system things #plural stuff #system cringe #endo safe #pro endo

[theeminentlyimpractical]

ALRIGHT I HAVE SOME CROWLEY THOUGHTS that are LONG and UNHINGED buckle up kids //// MILD SPOILERS(?)

Essentially - knowing Crowley's angelic rank recontextualizes a lot of the first season. Hat tip to @moonyinpisces for inspiring this madness with their Pre-Fall Thoughts.

BLUF/shitpost TL;DR:

God machinated the not-pocalypse, including manipulating both our idiot angels (this is canon, fight me)

Crowley Fell out of necessity in The Plan, knows that as a higher ranking Angel and both resents God and still believes in Her Plan

When foiling the Antichrist initially fails, my man has a crisis of Faith, thinks God has abandoned him yet AGAIN, and is like WELP FREE WILL IS ON THE TABLE NOW BABYYYYY 

LET’S RUN AWAY ANGEL NO ONE IS WATCHING THIS IS MY ACTUAL SELF HELLO NICE TO MEET YOU

Aziraphale, having been a heavenly plebe*, still believes in the hierarchy of Heaven and blah blah blah

Crowley, still a Believer at heart, makes one last plea to the Almighty OR HE WILL RUN AWAY SO HELP HERSELF

My Guy is successfully manipulated by God into staying and also rescuing Book Girl’s Book

Great Plan fails successfully 

Oh. OH.

They survive thanks to another divine intervention.

Crowley muses on the ACTUAL Big One, which like, my dude, how do you KNOW?  👀

Aziraphale is entirely unaware of this whole process and is fully on team Free Will and is all “our bookshop” this and “our car” that; meanwhile

Crowley is now a full time existentialist and part time Sad Keanu because if his entire existence is predetermined, why do anything, including love?

*this also makes it super fucking funny that Aziraphale insists on standards. Crowley is quiet luxury. Aziraphale is nouveau riche.

ACTUAL META WITH CANON CITATIONS (yes the above is the short version):

I’ve always assumed that Crowley falling was part of The Ineffable Plan, similar to how it was necessary for Aziraphale to give away his sword. God accepts Aziraphale’s babbling excuses, and 6,000 years later the sword shows up in the hands of War. When he returns to Heaven, he is reprimanded only for losing his body - the sword has ineffably disappeared from Heaven’s requisition roles. He HAD give it away in order for it - and him - to play their respective parts in The Great Plan.

And that was thwarted only by Aziraphale and Crowley collaborating for the good of humanity, and (selfishly) for themselves, rather than angels and demons. For it to work, there needed to be an agent of the Ineffable Plan on each side.

We now know Crowley was fairly high ranking in heaven. Would he have had insight on the Plan, or some part of it? Or merely assumed, truly believed, as he still seems to, that they would all play a part? We also know he is somehow wrong about how the hierarchy of Heaven works - what if his error was in assuming his role in the Plan meant maintaining his status as an Angel? [EDIT GIVEN NEW INFO: seems plausible he went to God and asked for a stay of execution on the Earth, and he got it, whether knowingly or not.] And instead God sends him away to fulfill his role in Hell, when that comes to pass. It could be why he’s not too concerned with the day to day of demoning - it will all work out as intended, in the End.

Does he know, suspect, or just truly still believe that they were meant to thwart the Apocalypse, which is why he is so confident in their cockamamie scheme? And when that apparently fails, he feels betrayed by God again, because the Plan he felt entrusted with seems to have been scrapped. He rages: 

“For the record, great pustulant mangled bollocks to the Great Blasted Plan!”

That may be why he’s so ready to run off with Aziraphale in that moment. If the Plan is off, then he can finally make his own choices, and he chooses Aziraphale and freedom. Aziraphale doesn’t choose him back, and Crowley moves to run away anyway, with one final plea to God to not let this come to pass, a Psalm 22 of his own.

Crowley is the only demon we see who still seems distraught over his Fall, rather than out for vengeance. He resents God for damning him, but often seems to believe in Her ineffable game.  He still addresses his final pleas directly to the Almighty -

“God, you listening? Okay, I know you’re testing them, you said you were going to be testing them. You shouldn’t test them to destruction. Not to the end of the world.”

Only he never leaves, because of a fire started by a gust of wind and the sheet music for Her favorite musical. 

And then they do thwart it, and survive, thanks to Agnes’ note fluttering inexplicably right into Aziraphale’s hand. So many little details demonstrate divine intervention. 

So now what’s the Plan? Crowley was ready to run away when the Plan was off, but now? He muses on the nature of The Big One before they dine at the Ritz. He says it lightly, but how does he have this insight?

What, exactly, is their role in the Second Coming? Because, it appears, they do have one.

Aziraphale seems blissfully unaware of the divine intervention in successfully averting the Apocalypse. He is now All In on Their Side, finally feeling free. Crowley, on the other hand, seems painfully aware. My man had the full free will he finally grasped in that bandstand burned away in a bookshop fire. 

Do I think he necessarily knows their exact role in this? No. And they still have free will in the small things, naturally. But I wonder if we will see Crowley resigned to his (and Aziraphale’s) fate being predetermined, a foregone conclusion. So why do anything, including love, if in the end, nothing really matters. 

#good omens #good omens 2 #go 2 speculation #go2 spoilers #s2 Crowley is a full time existentialist and part time Sad Keanu #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens spoilers

[door-insurance]

Revisiting life is strange and its fandom is really bittersweet

I don’t think the fandom is completely dead, it’s not what it used to be and I accept that but it’s bittersweet

also I don’t wanna gatekeep anyone from discovering LiS late, I don’t believe in “true fans”- I’m glad we’re still getting fandom babies hehh, thankfully there is a lot of fan materials to be discovered

I just wanna be a sentimental fool about the life is strange fandom, I was there when the first episode came out I was as old as the characters and it was an event, a moment that can never be replicated- the barbenheimer for tumblr lesbians

We never had a game like this before, it felt tailor made for us and we went crazy

It was fun, you’d just log on tumblr and find new fanart of your favorite character or ship- inside jokes and shitposts were rampant, a couple of fan writers and artists came together and made a fan game- “Love is Strange” where Max gets to romance Chloe, Kate, Victoria, Amber (tell me I’m not the only who remembers shrektoria and Rachel eating a salad while laughing meme)

I made fanart and memes and they blew up but I lost that account

They’d call us sjw trash on YouTube and make fun of the game, we didn’t give a shit

But I think it was around before the storm where i started to lose interest and was burnt out, also I just didn’t like the direction they went with for the game I thought it was an unnecessary edition to the main story (Rachel didn’t need a complicated backstory, Elliot, too much conflict for 3 episodes) and I don’t think I was the only one cause this is where the fan art and fic updates started to slow down

Then I moved on to other things, other fandoms- shit happens.

Life is strange was just another part of my cringey teenage self who the hell cares I was cringe

But now I’m an adult, I have responsibilities and anxieties that I never knew I’d have to deal with- i went through a lot in the last 8 years sometimes I wish I was still that cringey ass teenager. This year was particularly bad, lost someone I loved

I stumbled upon old fan art on Pinterest and it reignited my love for the first game, I felt happy that I had something to take my mind off and goddamn revisiting the fandom years later is so bittersweet. I miss my old fandom mutuals, the blogs that used to update everyday were last active 5 years ago and most of the og fan artists had either rebranded or had left, one of them got hacked

Tumblr doesn’t make it easy for you to look up older posts, you have to rely on old blogs, Google or Pinterest (kinda made it my mission to archive what I can find)

There are new artists doing their own thing and I love that for them! Also people still write fanfics and update them, when I have the time I sketch out my fave characters and ships- it seems like there is a vocal community on tiktok but idk i don’t wanna go there

But it’s not what it was and I accept that, shit happens I’m glad I got to experience it during its peak and that I was left with good memories and content I can still enjoy

I’ve definitely seen shittier and deader fandoms

Before LiS and Steven universe there weren’t a lot of spaces that let you enjoy wlw ships, they were either upstaged by yaoi stuff or fetishized (deviantart) this game and its fan base helped me accept my identity as a lesbian, told me it’s not a fetish when two girls hold hands

#life is strange #lis #life is strange fandom

[historia-vitae-magistras]

lol Alistair and Rhys out swinging swords at ghosts and looking like a couple of nutters to the untrained eye. Do you still have the fic or maybe it was an ask about chonklet deluxe being held by a horrifying wraith and screaming like the damned?

A little bit! And it was initially an ask. This fic is brand spanking new because I forgot how cool of an idea that shitpost actually was if I took it seriously. Please be warned that this fic is gory and involves child endangerment, a bastardization of mythological creatures and just general violence. Also here on ao3.

Rural Lancashire, 1590

Dusk draped heavily over the world as the last light of day darkened into a thick grey. Arthur had ducked out the door to catch the midwife as she crossed his property on foot. If he was quick, he could often walk her as far as the edge of the village and consult her on whatever it was Alfred had done now. Teething, his first words, the seizures that had gripped him last spring, croup, the rare occasion Alfred was ever colicky. She was a steely woman with hair to match and indulged him at least, giving the best advice she had after decades of bringing children into the world. He'd hardly paid attention to the labours of women, and children so often died that there was rarely time to pay them any heed as they went from the cradle to the casket so quickly.

He had turned back to make his usual beeline for the house, pushing past and between the square hedges and sprawling kitchen garden. Some of the stronger-smelling herbs must have been finally in season; there was a reek Arthur couldn't quite identify. He had hardly cleared the fence when he heard Alfred's usual cry, demanding attention. The baby was a social thing, as personable as Rhys or Brighid and twice as bold about his want of company. He didn't like waking alone, wrapped up cozy in the cradle or otherwise.

Another sound, shrill and high. This one sent a spike of anxiety through Arthur's spine. He paused for the shortest moment. Then he was moving. That was not the cry of a baby who was lonely or wanted to be picked up. That was a terrified howl from his boy. He shot into the house, through the atrium, up the stairs, and into the nursery. Heaving, he flung open the heavy oak door. The smell was there again. The figure of a woman stood in relief against the low fire, Alfred cradled in her arms and screaming. For a stupid, foolish moment, he hoped it was the scullery girl he had told to mind the baby should he begin crying. But the smell. He took a step forward. At a new angle, he could see rotten eyes staring at his son, a cheek missing to decay and teeth gleaming through the gap.

"Baby." Came the garbled sound from long-dead vocal cords.

"You do not belong in this realm," Arthur said, cooly gesturing for her to hand him the child. His guts churned, bile in his throat. The revenants were often as confused as they were disgusting, pulling themselves out of whatever corner they had died and remained undiscovered. "Give me the child."

The Revenant turned to him. "Mine."

"You do not belong in this realm," Arthur said again, gesturing to Alfred again. He was losing patience with fear, the ceaseless screaming from Alfred turning into a hopeless, frightened sob. She tilted her head, and it fell limply to her shoulder, tendons snapping on the other side. She lifted one hand to push it back onto her neck, and he saw her hand for a moment in the light. Her fingers were torn freshly away. Oh, good Christ, this one had crawled out of her grave as they sometimes did when there was an infant's ceaseless crying above them. But Alfred had never stepped foot in the churchyard, and it was nearly a mile and a half away in the village.

"Rhys!" Arthur screamed, praying to god his brother was in the house and not out in the lambing pens.

The woman transferred Alfred almost tenderly to one arm and lunged at him, hand outstretched and her rotting jaw open. It couldn't close and Arthur couldn't hit her; Alfred was a heavy child and would fall to the floor as a leaden weight, and his soft little body would smash. Arthur was cold. Alfred was still crying.

"Give me my fucking son." He lunged, snatching at her arm. A layer of grey slime came away, and he retched even as he got fingers wrapped into the swaddling nearest Alfred's feet. He was suddenly wrestling a corpse, each of them struggling to get their hands on the blanket. One of Alfred's arms had slipped free, and he flailed, a fresh rolling scream emitting from his tiny scarlet face. Arthur had never seen him so flushed. He tried to shove her away and kick at the rotting creature, but more of something wet disintegrated from her legs. His hand was suddenly slick with gore and a piece of her fell to the floor with a putrid plop, unseen under the half-rotten chemise she had been buried in. She almost looked to grin at him and pulled Alfred closer.

"Let go!" He commanded, trying to get a purchase, but his hands were too slippery. He lunged after her as she retreated towards the door. "Let him go!"

Then a sword was through her belly. Something degassed like fetid blacksmith's bellows. Arthur's senses nearly abandoned him at the smell, but his hands closed around Alfred and tugged him to his chest, and he shot back against the wall, as far from the thing as he could get.

"I know. I'm sorry." He gasped, a clean hand cradling Alfred's head. "I'm so sorry."

The creature groaned and collapsed to the floor on its knees, struggling as its guts dissolved around the blade. Rhys stood behind her, still in his lambing clothes and boots, mother's leaf-bladed sword in his hands. He lifted it, and her head fell from her shoulders. The rotting eyes followed Arthur across the room. He watched as Rhys found one of the seams of her skull with the tip, plunged the sword in, twisted like he was splitting a log, and this time, she lay still, dismembered.

"Are you all right?" Rhys said, stepping over the body to look at him. He approached close enough to pull the blanket away to look at Alfred. Arthur tried to meet his brother's eyes. "Arthur?"

He couldn't. He could only close his eyes, hold Alfred tighter and collapse down the wall. Alfred pressed as tight as he dared against his sternum, and Arthur tried to breathe. Alfred's crying had softened, terror fading to a heartbreaking relief, and Arthur kissed his head. To close. Too fucking close.

"He's fine," Rhys said; his voice was much softer this time. "You're both fine, I promise."

#hws england #hws wales #hws america #my writing || cacoethes scribendi

[shootingstarrfish]

HOW DO YOU DRAW SO QUICKLY AGH

I swear every time I turn around you’ve posted another masterpiece I’m jealous you can draw so fast it takes me like 3 days at least for a piece lol

AHH i keep being asked this and im flattered yall think this?? ill take a bit to explain the choices that help with my speed and circumstantial stuff that helps a lot

obligatory YOU DON'T NEED TO DO THINGS FAST taking your time is good!! i just get bored easily so i like being done with things and moving on, but i'm very aware of the fact that social media rewards this and punishes inconsistency so i get it lol

long ass ramble under the cut lol

okay so things i deliberately do to draw fast-

i specifically have 2 distinct styles because i constantly have too many ideas, and most of them don't need to be several hour long illustrations so i try to pick my battles and go for a simpler more expressive style for shitposts/memes/etc and reserve my more detailed style for ideas that actually benefit from having that extra time and effort. ofc this won't work for everyone but i tend to have 50 styles at any given moment anyway so giving myself the freedom to switch between them has been really nice

not necessarily deliberate??? but theres no perfectionism in this house, which helps a lot so i don't spend ages fussing over minute details (im a perfectionist at heart but a lazy one LOL)

giving myself time deadlines is also really helpful, like "i have to finish the lineart im the next half an hour" has been really good for getting me to focus and get things done, even if i don't make the 'deadline'. i think generally being conscious of how i use my time is good

okay so circumstantial (?) things-

ALSO USE REFERENCES they help a lot!!! stumbling around trying to figure things out on your own is time consuming, don't be scared of using references!

this isn't a speed thing but i think it's important to note that i spend like ALL my free time drawing, probably to a ridiculous degree. i draw during my work break, i draw after work, on the weekend, speed is nothing in the face of time lol. im usually tired after work but im also stubborn so i try to push through and draw anyway (50/50 chance it works and i get something done or i just sit there in a daze wishing i was asleep LOL)

im also a dumbass who takes on way too much, i have a whole buncha zines and commissions constantly at all times cause i can never say no so i kinda just HAVE to be fast to keep up with everything. i don't recommend it but it's a thing ashdjfj

i also used to be on tiktok and for some god forsaken reason i spent like a solid few months consistently posting 3 times per day which burnt me out SO fast and i absolutely don't recommend but it definitely required speed lol

i will also say that as i draw more and feel more comfortable in my art it comes to me a lot more naturally, and i'm able to make decisions on the fly a lot easier

also okay so starr lore my dad used to be really against me drawing so i would have to sneak onto the computer when he was out of the house hahaha, this gave me anywhere from 30 mins to 2 hours per day to do whatever i wanted, so i had to quickly adapt to that and be super fast if i ever wanted to get anything done

again speed isnt the be all end all of anything, tbh most of this is just my brain working in weird ways that prefers the quicker pace so please don't compare yourself!!

okay long ass ramble over thanks for reading <3333

#ask box #wow that was long hahaha #i don't think this is particularly helpful so maybe don't take it as advice but it's an explanation #if you take anything from this tho please let it be that we all have different life circumstances #so don't compare yourself >:0

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 16/05/2024

Kass' Theme

Season 4 Episode 1 Featured on: SECOND WIND ~ SiIvaGunner: King for Another Day Tournament Original Soundtrack VOL. 2

Ripped by wolfman1405 feat. Buta Big Band

Requested by sabybeal! (Request Form)

Now, Wolfman1405 is certainly not a new name to be featured here on this blog. Be it with Sunday Morning, Theme of HoBART, and most recently Haltmanna feat. Rob Thomas of Matchbox 20, I've spilled many words on just how excellent of a contributor the guy is, how distinct his jazzy sound, sultry voice, and love for music truly is amidst the channel's sea of contributors. Yet through all of those posts and more, I'm somehow yet to write a post about Wolfman1405's most distinct trait - the rips involving his own full-on Jazz ensemble, the Buta Big Band. With Kass' Theme, it felt as if the group was finally able to show their full potential on the big stage - a no-nonsense, non-shitpost cover of a beautiful piece of Nintendo music.

I briefly mentioned back on Sunday Morning that contestants like Adam Levine never really felt destined for the big leagues - the idea that some contestants just *felt* like they wouldn't be able to make it to the top. The contestants of this rip, Nintendo Power, felt pretty similar to me - as good as their setlist was, it wasn't all too different from the type of music SiIvaGunner usually uploads, that being primarily Nintendo-focused. But their presence did of course feel very welcome althesame - it gave the team ample room to show just how far they could PUSH that Nintendo-centric focus the channel already had with genuine all-cylinders effort put in. That was, as I've ruminated on many times, a huge part of what made KFAD so incredible: it was, to put it in the corniest way possible, SiIvaGunner's Avengers moment, of so many rippers from the channel's history coming together to give it their absolute all for this one event. Frequent rippers, infrequent rippers, old legends like Triple-Q and guest contributors like GaMetal on Ink That or DM DOKURO on September. And in the middle of all this sat Wolfman1405 - contributing a half dozen rips to the event, with Kass' Theme in particular showing perhaps the full power he possesses.

It helps, of course, that Kass' Theme is one we all have collectively swooned for since the release of Breath of the Wild in 2017. Hell, later in that very same year, during Season 2, SiIvaGunner themselves contributed a full-on Fusion Collab in the titular Kass' Theme Fusion Collab - a listen that, fittingly enough, begins with Wolfman1405's very own piano playing. Kass' Theme, two years later, then truly feels like a full circle moment, and above all else like a huge flex from the part of the Buta Big Band. It's Kass' Theme, sure, but filled with personality around every corner, evident from the word go as the ensemble leads into the titular song with a snippet from the main The Legend of Zelda theme completely seamlessly, borderline mandela-effecting me into believing that it had always been a remix of said theme all along. Kass' Theme isn't a very long piece of music, but the rip journeys through so many different takes and rhythms to the tune in its runtime - a trumpet-lead at one section, the full band in another, a section broken up by drum beats, and what I believe to be a trombone solo halfway through it all. As a former trombone player (Mel fun fact of the day!) I can't help but admire it, both on principle alone but also for just how well it manages to fit this new take on the song.

There's layers to dissect at every turn with Kass' Theme, and even as it turns almost entirely into freestyle toward the arrangement's end, it never loses the soul of what it's adapting - and, of course, never stops sounding fantastic. It's that sheer quality that makes Wolfman1405's rips stand as tall as they do, that touch for finesse born from such a good understanding of music - and, perhaps most obviously ad most importantly, a love of the SiIvaGunner channel. It all reminds me of rips like Because I Love You - there's no bit, no punchline, no irony, naught but the love of genuinely good music, to be expressed as earnestly as possible with an audience of fans who are damn near bound to accept that sincerity with open arms. Kass' Theme is an absolute slam dunk for the Buta Big Band, and one of the MANY reasons I love Wolfman1405's contributions to SiIvaGunner - and hey, if you're interested in his work outside of the channel, may I recommend his two independantly-produced singles, Distance and Atlanta?

#todays siivagunner #season 4 episode 1 #siivagunner #siiva #wolfman1405 #Alejandro Espinosa #buta big band #Youtube #kfad #nintendo #breath of the wild #tloz #tloz botw #botw #nintendo switch #zelda #zelda music #zelda series #jazz arrangement #jazz

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Worth it

Masterlist

A/N: More fluff? More fluff! Based off this horrible little shitpost from yesterday. So here we have 16 y/o Walter, and his 10-ish year younger, annoying baby brother Mikey. God help me, what have I become?

Characters: Walter Marshall, littlebrother!Mikey, OFC

Summary: Walter is babysitting his little brother Mikey while their mom is away for the weekend. He's also on a date...

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Fluff. Vague hint at 'underage'(?) sex (They're both sixteen.)

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @keanureevesisbae @fvckinghenrycavill @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 (I'm almost sorry to bother y'all with this)

“Walter! Walter, look!” The only thing I can do is glare at the little kid jumping around the room. My date is already distracted by the unruly projectile that is my baby brother. She was seconds away from kissing me, for fuck’s sake.

“Oh my god! Is that your little brother?” Oh, fuck no! Not again. The little bastard always does this. Whenever I have a girl over, Mike just has to swoop in and steal the show. They all think he’s adorable. And they’re not wrong, but they’re also not stuck with him every goddamn day.

“Yeah,” I growl. “Mikey, you’re supposed to be in bed. Get lost.”

“I can’t sleep!” Of course he can’t. You need to sit still for longer than thirty seconds to be able to sleep, and Mikey just can’t do that. It also may or may not be slightly before his bedtime on weekends, but I just want the couch and the TV – and Christina – to myself for a few hours.

“Mike, for fuck’s sake! Come on, back to bed!” It’s a good thing mom is not here to hear that language, because I’d be in trouble. In fact, I'm always in trouble. I'm already banned from going out tonight because mom decided I'd make a fine – free – babysitter. She usually pays me to watch her youngest spawn – of Satan – but there was a homework mishap again – Mike’s doing – and trouble at school means trouble at home. Did I blame the kid? No. He’s my little brother. My annoying, obnoxious, and right now; cock-blocking, little brother.

“No!” Of course not. Because why would this little rat listen to me so I can have a quiet evening with my girlfriend? Who the fuck knows.

“Mike, seriously, get the fuck out of here! Chris, hold on a minute.” I get off the couch to chase after Mikey, but he’s fast.

“Walter,” Chris says as she turns the TV off. It’s a good thing she has the common sense to do that, because that movie was not suitable for a six year old kid. “He’ll get tired.”

“Neveeeeeer!” Mikey says as he runs past her. He’s just doing laps around the living room now.

“He means that.” I slump back on the couch, next to Christina. “Mikey, can you stop screaming, please? And go back to bed.” This kid is exhausting. And he hasn’t even been here for five minutes. He stops running right in front of Chris.

“He wants to kiss you. That’s why I have to go sleep.” The little snitch.

“Is that so?” Chris laughs and looks at me, I can’t do anything other than just shrug. She’s not stupid, she knows I’d be happy to do more than hold hands on this damn couch.

“It’s the weekend. I can stay up until nine.” Chris gives me another look.

“That’s not tr...”

“Walter Marshall, you are a terrible liar!”

“Mum was supposed to take him to grandma!” It’s a weak excuse for sending your baby brother off to bed well before his bedtime, I know that. But I just wanted a few hours to make out with my hot girlfriend, is that so wrong?

Chris quickly covers Mikey’s ears. “Your mom is gone until tomorrow, right? I wouldn’t worry about curfew: My folks are out of town and I’ll happily stay a little longer...” She hesitates for a moment. “Or… Stay the night? But be nicer to your brother, that would really help your case right about now.” I shoot Chris an apologetic grin while I rub the back of my neck. I probably shouldn’t have tried to lock my baby bro away. And he is quite the little charmer, most girls I bring home – there have been like three in the past two years, settle down – love him to bits. He’s a carbon copy of me when I was his age, and not to toot my own horn or anything, but I was fucking adorable. So is Mike. He’s bouncier, though. And impatient, and hyperactive, and loud. Very loud.

“Hey, Mikey, do you want to watch a movie with us?” I say. Yeah, he’ll be in bed a little late, but if it wins me some brownie points with Chris right now...

“Can we watch the Lion King?” And he’s jumping again. Fantastic.

“No, we can’t watch the Lion King,” I say sternly. Not unless we want him to keep running for another hour.

“Why can’t we watch the Lion King, Walter?” Now Chris is the one pouting at me with sad puppy eyes. In fact, both of them are now pouting at me with sad puppy eyes. This is a nightmare.

“Because,” I say as I grab Mike off the floor and put him on the couch, “the songs make him all hyper.” Chris seems to accept that as a valid enough reason.

“How about Ice Age?” The look on Mikey’s face is a very clear ‘yes’.

“Oh, I love Ice Age!” Chris says. Her voice is genuine, as is her smile. She crawls onto the chaise and gets comfortable with a blanket.

“Can I sit with the pretty girl?” Mike doesn’t wait for an answer and just crawls over the couch towards her until he’s in her lap.

I grab some drinks – Chris is smart enough to ask for water, because the first thing Mike yells is: “I want some too!” – and make myself comfortable on the couch a solid Mike-width away from Chris. I manage to still put an arm around her shoulder, although Mikey is trying very hard to push me away. It’ll be fine. He gets snuggly when he gets tired – and he honestly can’t keep this up for that much longer.

“Hey, stop pushing your brother,” Chris says. It’s a fucking miracle, but he actually stops and looks at her.

“What’s your name?” He asks her. Oh she’s falling for those big blue eyes, I can just see it happening.

“Chris,” she says.

“That’s a boy’s name!” Mike laughs.

“It’s not a boy’s name, it’s my name. And it’s short for Christina,” she explains patiently. It’s the kind of patience I have with him on vacations, when I don’t have homework or girls or ice hockey to worry about.

“Christina is a pretty name!” Mike says. That, and forty more things before the opening credits of the movie are through.

He doesn’t make it past the first half with the chatter, though, and just before the end, he’s curled up in Chris’ lap – fast asleep.

Mom comes home just as I have to leave for my hockey game.

“Thanks, Walter,” she says, and I silently thank her for staying out overnight. I head off as fast as possible, because I’m going to be running late if I don’t. Chris is coming with me. She’s already waiting in her car – supposedly to pick me up, but the truth is that her car never left the driveway. It’s a quiet drive, with a couple of awkward flirty smiles as we both remember last night.

We even win the game. That’s an understatement: we demolish the other guys. This is starting to look like a really great weekend! Chris kisses me goodbye when she drops me off back home, and it fucking takes my breath away. I walk into the kitchen ready to tell mom everything about the game, when I hear Mikey’s voice right as I stroll around the corner.

“...and then this morning she made me pancakes!”

“This morning?” Mom asks, and I wish the ground would disappear from beneath my feet. “Mikey, baby, go watch TV.” Mike immediately gets up and disappears into the living room. Mom shuts the door behind him.

“Walter Marshall, you are in some serious shit,” she hisses.

Eh. Worth it.

#walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall #walter marshall drabble #walter marshall fluff #henry cavill characters #Mike hellraiser #mike (hellraiser) #hellraiser mike

[sarahlizziewrites]

Intro/pinned post

Hello, everyone. Sarah here. This is a blog nominally for writing, but realistically for shitposting with smatterings of fandom.

Sarah - she/her - 30 - Scotland

Likes:

Fantasy, and within that, romance, slice-of-life and adventure. My WIPs range from sword-and-sorcery to magical realism and gothic horror. Somehow all of these WIPs include friends-to-lovers. Weird.

Historical fiction. I'm a consumer of period drama, a researcher of historical costuming, and European history is one of my special interests.

Queer stories and characters, especially the kind I would have liked to have seen growing up <3

Critical Role, as well as an ever-shifting collection of fandoms, arranged like a detailed hierarchy of plushies in a pre-teen's bedroom. I'm sarahlizzie on AO3.

Mature content, some of which I post on my blog. If you're a minor, please consider your follow carefully.

Tag games/ask games! Or just infodump about your WIPs and OCs in my asks! I love you!

My WIPs:

The Adventures of Sitora Lux - This is an expanded and editorialized retelling of a former D&D character who I felt like didn't get a fair enough shout in the game. Sitora is a big lesbian Paladin-to-be who is still figuring stuff out as she attends an academy for training up future peacekeepers of the realm. A high fantasy coming-of-age/romance with some mystery and drama thrown in, spread over 5 books. Currently editing book 1, currently writing book 2. Have a character intro for Sitora! feat: lovely art from @rosieartsie.

I also use the tag 'Sitoraverse' for posting about the expanded world of Mithlonde

Grey-Sky Lark - my distraction project. Based on the mind-worm of 'Hebridean Vampire', I started writing a deeply introspective, totally first-person series of vignettes/short stories about my (unnamed) vampire protagonist as fate takes him on the winds and currents of history and the North Atlantic. The story starts in 9th century Faroe Islands as they are being colonized by the Norse and goes through to modern day. At the moment I'm working on the late-Victorian/Edwardian section where he is tasked with tracking down another vampire.

Chrissie's of London - a psychedelic, high-drama adventure set in a magical version of 1920s London, starring a gregarious and irresponsible hotel owner, Silas Chrissie [character intro], his long-suffering accountant, Loretta Cramps [character intro], and his old friend, a French, shape-shifting felon called Jacques [character intro]. It's gay too because that's my brand, and it has portals to another world, monsters coming out of said portals, hotel rooftop fights, all that fun stuff. It's giving some Neil Gaiman, some Rivers of London, some Stranger Things.

Brazen Sparrow - an age-of-sail romance, featuring a sapphic navy captain/pirate enemies-to-lovers storyline. Expect maps for this one!

Til Death Do Us Part - my NaNoWriMo 2023 project. A whodunnit set in 1937 featuring the groom being killed at his wedding.

Dawn Meeting - the first in a series of interactive stories over at tell-me-a-poll-story, my second blog.

If any of these sound good to you, sign up for my taglist!

#introduction #pinned post #pinned intro #writer community #writeblr

[give-soup-please]

have you seen this 'would you still love me if i was a worm?' meme? what if s/o asked narrator that? please?

(...Have you ever written for a character you love, and written for them in such a way that you fall for them a bit harder? I think I just did that. Hope you weren't expecting a shitpost, anon. I just- whoooo- He did something to me, and I'm the one writing the damned piece.)

“Would you love me if I was a worm?”

“No.”

The narrator waits for a few seconds, then bursts out laughing. “Oh, oh dear, reader- I apologize. I couldn’t resist the temptation. Now listen,” he says, grabbing your hand gently.

“If you were a worm, I would cultivate the lushest garden for you to explore and thrive in. I’d give you all the care a worm needs, whether that be… Dirt, heat lamps, whatever you need.”

“The idea of suddenly being transformed into an insect is rather reminiscent of “The Metamorphosis”, by Kafka, is it not? A transformation that isn’t anyone’s fault… it’s a familiar story to many of us, thematically.” He clears his throat, realizing he got distracted.

“Now, my analysis skills are far above the average- Believe me, I know. I’m a writer, I know where the mark is. Allow me to wonder, for a moment, if there isn’t another question you’re trying to ask me underneath this one. I believe you may be trying to ask, ‘would you love me if something about me changed?’, which is a fair and worthy question to ask a partner.”

He keeps rambling on like this, not recognizing the meme.

“Allow me to assure you, then, that there are very few changes that would make me let you go. It’s your heart, reader, that counts for the most, not your appearance. If you were suddenly changed into a worm, but were still the lovely, kind being I know you are, then- Well, I wouldn’t date an insect, but I would still take care of you as best as I could. Because you deserve to be taken care of, even when unforeseen things happen.”

You’re starting to get really emotional about this.

“I can’t imagine you transforming into something or someone that isn't lovable in some way. I fell for you for a reason, after all. So even if something major happens, and you change, I would still very much love you as you are. I think at the end, that’s all that really matters.”

He chuckles. “A worm, really? That’s about as likely to happen as my love for you disappearing, which is to say- It won’t happen. I love you, my dear. Seasons will come and go, the tides will swing, but the way I feel for you is steadfast, an ever-fixed mark.”

You’re a blushing and emotional mess. You pull him closer. You’re going to drown him in affection, having spoken words like that.

(I don't know where the fuck this came from, but he got my heart doing flip flops like crazy today. FFFFFFF oh my god i'm so in love with him. It's totally canonical that he'd remain dedicated to a partner. How many loops have we run him through? How many years has he been telling this story? He's such an emotional person, and i'm willing to bet money that when he falls, he falls hard.

I love him so much, he's the best character ever. I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM! GOD!)

(also holy hell, I've written a lot today. that's odd. I don't know how long that will last before I get too tired, but until then...)

#the narrator x reader #the stanley parable #tsp narrator #tsp #headcanon #answered ask #stanley parable #narrator #tsp narrator x reader

[piived]

Justice is Swift (Vengeance is Sweet) — a DPxDC Dead on Main Fic

chapter three has arrived!

master post || <- ch.2 || ch.3 shitposts

CHAPTER THREE — ANGEL IN DISGUISE

Summary —

Danny has a (literal) run-in with someone at a coffee shop, an interesting conversation with some friends, a near-miss with another mugger, and has some more home invaders. Jason and Tim start putting some more pieces together.

chapter word count — 7,646

full chapter under the cut, but for the best experience read on ao3 and consider leaving kudos/comments as they fuel me :)

𓆩⟡𓆪

Danny let himself splurge on decent coffee once a week, a little treat to help with the general chaos of juggling a full load of intense college classes. He had discovered a lovely little coffee shop nearby campus with a caring staff who fulfilled Danny’s truly exorbitant espresso wishes without even batting an eye.

He loved Gotham, truly.

What he did not love, was getting said heavenly coffee splashed over his chest and spilled on the floor, a truly devastating (and expensive) brown puddle that reflected his blank face as he stared down into it with a resigned sigh.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” A deep voice broke him out of his mourning and he glanced up at the douche that had bumped into him and caused the tragedy seeping below his sneakers as they stood there. Well, the douche at least had the decency to be the hottest guy Danny had ever seen. He would take the spilled holy nectar any day to have the chance to see the face staring at him in panicked apology. (Danny was maybe a tad bit sleep deprived and loopy at the moment. Fruit loop loopy. Ha.)

“Uh, you okay?” Danny scrubbed a hand down his face to clear his head and bit down a hysterical bark of laughter and instead shot a rueful smile at the literal Angel looking at him with what was now concern, gorgeous blue eyes wide and large hand hovering as if to steady Danny but not sure if the touch would be welcomed. (It most certainly would be.)

“Yeah, you’re good, man,” Danny tried for nonchalance despite kind of wanting to cry in the corner at the loss of his much needed caffeine. He did not have time to go back to his apartment to make a shitty cup of the instant coffee he made do with every other day of the week. “Don’t worry about it.”

The guy looked worried regardless. An employee came over with a mop and paper towels which the guy took with a grateful smile that brought a flush to the barista’s cheeks. Danny felt a sense of kinship towards her, because at least he wasn’t the only one clearly affected by the Angel’s charm.

Danny stepped away from the puddle to let the clearly underpaid employee get the spill mopped up, glad that his shoes only left a slight trail of the liquid, and made grabby motions for the paper towels. Angel Boy passed him the stack and Danny started patting his shirt down. Of course he chose to wear a mostly white one today too, no jacket in sight because Danny was an idiot who didn’t want to carry it around when he inevitably got too warm. Having an ice core that made him near immune to the cold had it’s downsides after all.

“Let me buy you another?” Danny stared at Angel Boy who was now giving him a truly devastatingly pretty smile that made Danny’s gut twist a bit. (He should really have Frostbite run some tests with the amount of swirling his gut had been doing lately. Maybe something was wrong with him.)

“Uh, you don’t have to,” Danny said after a moment and Angel Boy shook his head.

“No, I insist,” Angel said and Danny had a pang of déjà vu but waved it off. “It’s the least I can do after giving yours away to the floor,” Angel glanced at Danny’s shirt and winced, “And for ruining your shirt. Just, wait here?”

Danny could only nod as Angel walked to the counter and turned his charming smile to the cashier who nodded and waved off his card, much to Danny’s chagrin. He was positive he wouldn’t manage to get a free coffee. He had the charm of a particularly slow slug at the moment and his eye bags were probably enough to scare off even Skulker. He watched in swooning amusement as Angel snuck in a few bills (probably much more than the drink itself cost, from the look of it) to the tip jar when the barista’s back was turned and then frowned in confusion as the guy then ran out the door, bell left swinging behind him.

Well, that was that, then. He sighed in disappointment and gave up on dabbing at his shirt after another moment and made sure his shoes were wiped before throwing the soiled napkins in the garbage. He turned around to see if he would actually have a drink waiting at the counter or if it had all been some sort of joke, and startled when he came face to face with Angel Boy a foot away, holding out a large fresh cup of what Danny hoped to be at least as strong as his original order and what looked like a black shirt draped over his arm. Was this guy a speedster or something? How the fuck did he get back so fast? Danny ignored his confusion and took the offered cup gratefully, eyes widening after a careful sip.

Angel laughed, “Like it?”

Danny nodded, taking another sip, “What the hell is in this?”

Angel shrugged, “Same thing my overworked and chronically sleep deprived brother usually gets to try and ‘fight the demons’ or something. You struck me as the type to appreciate it. I had her put the recipe on the side for you.”

Sure enough, Danny found the order written on the side, and at the bottom was a string of numbers. Danny nearly rolled his eyes. Figured.

“I think she left you a little something,” Danny turned the cup and tapped the numbers for Angel to see. The guy just flushed slightly and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, actually that’s for you.”

Danny blinked and then cocked his head to look around Angel’s shoulder to get a look at the girl. She was cute, sure, but after seeing Angel, Danny wasn’t sure he’d be able to find anyone else attractive ever again. (He was definitely being melodramatic. Val would be proud. Sam would smack him upside the head. Tucker would be laughing his ass off. He’s never telling them anything about this.)

He was brought back by a breathy laugh and a more red-faced Angel Boy. “Mine, not hers.”

And, oh.

Oh.

Danny short-circuited.

“My name’s Jason,” Angel Boy, Jason, smiled and stuck his hand out. Danny smiled back and grabbed it, reveling in how warm and nice it felt in his own.

“Danny,” he managed to say without even a crack or stutter. (Tucker would be so fucking proud of him. He’s so telling them about this.)

Angel, no, Jason, grinned a bit wider and squeezed his hand once more before letting go and Danny immediately missed the warmth, cradling his coffee to try and bring it back (it wasn’t the same).

“Well, I’m sorry again, Danny. If you ever want a do-over I’d love to not douse you in coffee next time.”

Danny laughed, “Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t mind that.”

They grinned at each other before Jason startled out of it with a soft, “Oh!” He held out what was definitely a black shirt and Danny stared. “I thought you might like a shirt that I didn’t spill coffee on. I keep an extra in my bike bag just in case. It’s clean, I promise.”

Danny glanced outside and sure enough there was a gleaming black motorcycle parked in front of the doors. Of course the guy rode a motorcycle. Danny was going to fucking swoon.

He did not swoon, and instead composed himself enough to take the offered shirt with a grateful smile. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Jason smiled, “No problem, least I could do.”

Danny begged to differ but kept the sentiment to himself. Jason was clearly a gentleman.

His phone beeped in warning and he swore, “I’m gonna be late for class. Thank you for the coffee and the shirt, I really appreciate it.”

“Like I said, least I could do,” Jason waved him off, walking with him towards the door where Danny turned to duck into the bathroom and change. Just before he turned Jason stopped him with a warm hand on his wrist and sparkling eyes.

“Text me?”

Danny grinned and promised, “Yeah, I will.”

Jason left with a gentle squeeze and Danny had to force his feet to start working again and not stare as Jason straddled his bike.

Holy shit.

As he ran to class he shot off a simple ‘Hey, it’s Danny’ with a cheeky coffee cup emoji to the number on the cup and had to force down a giddy, disbelieving laugh.

His life rocked.

—

He managed to keep his good spirits up the rest of the week and was still riding the high when he met Bernard and Tim for their now weekly café hangout.

“You’re in a good mood,” Bernard commented as Danny took the seat across from the couple. He shrugged but kept smiling, taking the offered coffee cup with a quick thanks.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” the week had been good after his run in with Jason. He managed to catch up on the sleep he lost from pulling a couple all-nighters for homework and the chaos of coordinating with Jazz to get Ellie’s paperwork and trying to find the best school for her to enroll at. Classes were going smooth, Ellie was settling in, he hadn’t heard anything from Red Robin or Red Hood, and, oh yeah, he and Jason had been texting a lot. A lot, a lot. And they had plans to meet up Saturday morning for another try at a coffee shop. Danny had to remind himself that it wasn’t technically a date, but it was hard when every time his phone buzzed his heart did a flip.

He was being completely normal about this.

“This have anything to do with Angel Boy?” Danny blushed and regretted ever telling Bernard anything. He groaned into his hands.

“Can you just forget that entire conversation?”

Bernard shook his head, “Nope! It was hilarious and I now must hold it over your head forever more. Friend duties and all that.”

Tim looked between the two in amusement and Danny glared at Bernard in warning. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed but Bernard, the traitor, did indeed dare.

Danny sighed and pillowed his head in his folded arms as Bernard retold the story to Tim, but thankfully left out some of Danny’s more embarrassing tangents about the guy’s killer thighs and various muscle toning. Tim looked very amused at the tale and Danny sighed pitifully.

“Tim, your boyfriend is fucking rude. I told him that in three-day sleep-deprived confidence and therefore cannot be held responsible for my gushing.”

Tim nodded in sage agreement and Bernard scoffed at both of them. “That is so not a thing.”

Tim shook his head, “Is too a thing.”

Danny held out a hand and Tim high-fived it, “See! Thank fuck one of you is sane!”

“Whatever, maybe you guys should get more sleep,” Benny, rolled his eyes, “Have you set up a date yet?”

Danny couldn’t stop the smile, “Yeah, we’re going for coffee on Saturday. Hopefully sans the embarrassing spillage and gawking.”

Bernard laughed and Tim smiled and then said, “You want me to run a background check on the guy? Make sure he’s not some crazy weirdo?”

Danny cocked his head, “You can do that?” He knew Tucker had his ways of getting information on people but he wasn’t used to other people having the same type of paranoia and resources.

Tim shrugged, “Perks of being semi-famous and very wealthy. Bruce makes us run background checks on pretty much anyone we speak to more than once.”

Danny narrowed his eyes, “Have you run one on me?”

Tim fidgeted a little and Bernard laughed, throwing his arm over Tim’s shoulder easily. “Of course he did. We had to make sure you weren’t an aforementioned crazy weirdo.”

Danny raised his eyebrows in amusement, “Find anything interesting?” He was sure that the name change would at least pop up but he didn’t truly know if anything about his parents or the GIW would show, depending on how deep the Wayne’s resources could dig. He knew he was on the GIW’s agency watch list in high school but since they were disbanded he had no idea what records would still be active or available. Then again, Red Robin clearly hadn’t seen anything of the sort if his surprise at the topic was any indication, and surely the Bat Posse had more intense resources than nearly anyone with Batman’s ‘World Greatest Detective’ title and association with the Justice League.

Tim shrugged, “A bit, but Berny always tells me it’s rude to pry.”

“That’s because it is, Timmy,” Benny said cheekily and patted his arm, making Tim sigh. “However, now that we’re friends and you’ve been confirmed to, in fact, not be a crazy weirdo, that rule no longer applies to you. Were your parents really ghost hunters?”

Danny huffed a laugh at Bernard’s bluntness and curiosity. He could see that Tim was also curious and he actually found himself comfortable speaking about his life in Amity with them. Well, some of his life in Amity. The basics. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Bernard let out a, “Huh,” and then, “did they ever find anything?”

Danny smirked. “Maybe,” he said mysteriously.

Bernard guffawed, “You can’t just leave it at that!”

Danny laughed, “Okay, okay! Let’s just say that everyone who lives in Amity are definite believers of the supernatural and for good reason.”

Tim leaned forward in curiosity, “What do you mean by that?”

Danny shrugged, “We’ve all had an encounter or two,” or hundreds, “with a ghost or two,” or an entire realm full. “It’s almost impossible not to in that town. I swear it should be considered the most haunted place in America with how often sightings happen.”

“What type of ghosts?” Tim asked and Danny found that particular question a bit odd and the entire situation somewhat familiar for some reason but brushed it off and shrugged.

“All types, really. There was a lunch lady at the high school, Casper High, by the way, I swear they were just asking for it, and a little boy that’s like, obsessed with pirates, and a puppy named Cujo that runs around and sleeps in peoples gardens, but then there’s the real town legend of course.” Maybe he was having a little too much fun with this.

“What’s the legend?” Bernard asked emphatically.

Danny smirked with a wicked gleam, “Phantom.”

—

He left the Physics lecture nearly dead on his feet, having spent the entire time juggling taking notes and fending off Bernard’s incessant questions about Amity and all things ghosts. The conversation had really taken off with Tim and Benny both taking turns asking rapid fire questions that Danny had to be careful how he answered and by the end they were nearly late to their class and Bernard still hadn’t had enough of it.

It amused Danny, a bit, having people so curious about Amity and the ghosts when everyone in Amity were so desensitized to it all that hardly anyone even spoke about the ghosts anymore, accepting their presence as if they were ordinary run of the mill citizens, especially after their fights stopped creating so much damage and people started being able to catch onto what each ghost wanted to accomplish. At worst they were slight annoyances (Boxy rearranging the shelves at the container store to better suit his whims, Ember crashing some festivals and taking over the opening acts stage time, and Cujo digging up some flower beds and scaring the neighborhood cats) and the Amity Parkers were content to leave them be and let Phantom deal with them when they got too rambunctious. (Besides his parents, of course, and the occasional tourist ghost hunter who often caused more damage than the ghosts that they claimed were so dangerous).

He managed to abate his friends curiosity by promising an eventual visit to Amity (despite his reservations of visiting his home town again and all the memories it held) and further stories another time. Danny was almost certain Tim had been taking notes on everything with the way he had his phone under the table and kept glancing down, typing away as they talked. Danny wondered if the guy had a secret interest in the paranormal and if he liked the exaggerated TV shows with the spirit boxes and creepy basements they locked themselves in for no good reason, undoubtedly bothering whatever shades or spirits were lingering around.

He startled out of his thoughts by a flash of blue on a rooftop across the street. Well, at least Danny wouldn’t have to be stopping any muggings tonight, thank the Ancients. He hadn’t had a run-in with any of the other vigilantes and he wanted to keep it that way as long as possible. He hoped that Red and Hood were keeping things on the down low and would be the only ones ambushing him anytime soon.

Of course, nothing ever went the way Danny wanted it to.

He saw the hooded figure as he entered the alley and had half a mind to back out and take the long way, but something pressed to his lower back ensured that that wasn’t an option. “Keep walking, pretty boy,” the guttural voice demanded and Danny complied easily, biding his time until he could escape.

The hooded figure started walking towards them, meeting them halfway. “Empty your pockets,” Hoodie Guy said, flashing a gun at Danny, causing him to sigh internally. But before he could get do anything, a flash of Blue landed behind Hoodie and took him out at the knees, gun sliding far across the alley. Danny took his opening and twirled away from the guy behind him as he staggered back a step with a shocked curse. He used his momentum to land a solid kick to his side, knocking him against the wall and followed up with a punch to the temple, knocking him out.

He turned to face Nightwing who was staring in shock at Danny and the thug he’d taken down.

“Nice kick,” he said and Danny had to laugh, getting a flashback to Red Hood complimenting his punch.

“Thanks,” Danny said, “And thanks for the help,” he gestured to the two crumpled forms on the ground and Nightwing shrugged.

“Kinda what I’m around for,” he said and then gestured to the thug behind Danny, “but I think you would’ve been just fine without me.”

Danny shrugged, “Maybe, but guns are a bit much for my limited self defense skills.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Nightwing nodded, crouching to swipe the gun and unload it with practiced ease before turning to the thugs with zip-tie cuffs and speaking a quick, “Hey, O, send the GPD to my pin, would ya? Two armed thugs, zip-tied and out for now. Thanks,” into his comms before turning back to Danny with a small grin, “Do you live close by?”

“Just another few minutes past the next dark alleyway,” Danny gestured in the direction.

Nightwing laughed, “Any chance you take the long way instead?”

Danny smirked, “Nope.”

“Want company?”

Danny nodded with a small shrug and started walking, “Well, you’re definitely more polite about it than Red Hood was.”

Nightwing made a noise of surprise, matching his stride, “Oh, you’ve met Hood?”

Danny laughed, “Oh yeah, we’ve met. Red Robin too, though considering he actually broke into my apartment to get information I’d say you have him beat too.”

Nightwing sputtered, “What the hell? Why?”

Danny shrugged, “Thought I was someone else apparently, but didn’t like being told he was wrong, funnily enough.”

Nightwing sighed, “I’d apologize for him but I think we both know that he isn’t sorry about it.”

Danny shrugged, “Yeah, probably not. It’s chill though, we have an agreement that next time he’ll at least knock.”

“Well if he doesn’t, let me know and I’ll kick his butt a bit for you, ‘kay?”

Danny cackled. He liked Nightwing a lot more than the partners of his he’d met. Well, besides Red Hood, maybe. He had invited him to dinner after all, and the guy had left him food. He won out for sure. But Nightwing was definitely an easier first impression.

“So, you go to Gotham U?” Nightwing asked, eyeing his backpack.

“Yeah, I’m a freshman. Got a full ride for Aerospace Engineering,” Danny offered, because why the hell not? At this rate the Bat Posse would have his entire life story complete with baby pictures by the end of the semester.

Nightwing whistled, “Wow, I know their scholarship programs are super competitive so you must have really impressed them.”

Danny had gone for their Inventor’s Scholarship and entered a modified version of one of his parents old, non-patented, ray guns, but specifically designed by Danny to shoot non-lethal energy bursts powered completely by ectoplasm (or as his official spec sheet had listed: an ‘alternate form of clean energy’). He was incredibly proud of it and had plans to modify a lot of his parents’ other inventions they had given up on. He had all of the blueprints and a few boxes in his closet held the devices that he stole from their lab throughout the years.

They chatted idly for the few minutes that it took to reach his building and he waved goodbye with another thanks and a grin, watching the vigilante swing away on his grapple. So much for not interacting with any other vigilantes. Though, at least it seemed that Red and Hood had kept their little investigation to themselves. Nightwing truly didn’t seem to recognize him and Danny was glad for the semblance of privacy, even though he had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t last forever, depending on what the two were able to scrounge up. Furthermore, Nightwing reminded Danny a bit of Jazz — something about the guy just screamed ‘older sibling’ energy and Danny couldn’t help but feel more at ease with him around (not to mention the few puns that they had shot back and forth — the Bats were quickly growing on him, which was mildly concerning considering, well, everything about his own past vigilante situation).

He made the trek up the stairs and decided to use his front door rather than phasing through. He was still a bit paranoid that Red Robin may have put up extra surveillance around his apartment to try and catch him off guard. He and Ellie had thoroughly checked the apartment last time they had left and fortunately found nothing (if they had, he would have tracked the vigilante down and shoved whatever camera or microphone down his throat).

He froze as he entered his apartment, letting the scene he was looking at process.

“Close the door, don’t let them out!” Ellie snapped and Danny did as he was told, closing and locking the door as a tiny black fur ball toddled up to him curiously, winding itself around his feet.

“Ellie,” he said carefully, “what did you do?”

Ellie had another fur ball, this one pure white, cradled in her arms, and she looked up at him with her too-wide, ‘I’m so innocent’ eyes. He sighed, knowing already that he would be caving.

She grinned, as if knowing what his sigh meant. “They were abandoned! I found them in a taped up box in an alleyway and couldn’t just leave them!”

Danny sighed again, toeing off his shoes carefully as to not kick the little creature and then scooped it up, staring at it face to face. It was stupidly adorable and gave him a little ‘mew’ in hello. He melted.

“Okay, fair enough. But you could have taken them to a shelter or vet?”

“I don’t trust shelters! They’re already so full and they might kill them or some older ones to make room!” Ellie said in distress and Danny quickly sat next to her and pressed his shoulder to her own.

“Okay, okay! I get it and agree,” he assured her and looked down at the kittens in their arms. “Have you named them yet?”

She shook her head, “Not yet, I wanted to wait for you. Buuut,” she held up the white kitten. “I was thinking Casper for this one?”

Danny groaned, “Who told you about Casper the Ghost?”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Casper is a classic, of course I know him.”

“Great, and you know that my high school was literally Casper High? You want to torture me with the memory of high school every time I look at the thing?”

“Well, ghosts are supposed to be haunting, right?”

He shoved Ellie over and laughed as she held the kitten, Casper, up so it wouldn’t be crushed. “Hey! You could have hurt Casper!”

Danny shook his head, “Nah, you got him.”

She put Casper down and let him wander a bit, finding his way to Danny’s lap. Danny put down his own kitten so they could play. “Now you gotta name the black one.”

Danny looked at Ellie and sighed when he realized she was serious. He looked down and scratched the little things head. “Batman,” he deadpanned and earned a shove back. He cackled.

“No way! That would be so embarrassing if your vigilante friends came back!”

“Yeah, yeah,” not even bothering to argue about the ‘friend’ title, he kept looking at the kitten. “Reaper,” he settled on. Ellie thought it over.

“Casper and Reaper. I like it.”

Danny smiled at her and then frowned, sighing.

“I guess this means we need to go on a supply run then, huh?”

She just shot him a toothy grin in response.

—

Danny let out a steadying breath as his phone rang for their impromptu group call that Danny had asked the gang, including Jazz, to have earlier than their usual weekly recap sessions. Ellie rolled her eyes and pressed the answer button for him, crowding in close to him so her face could be seen along with his own. They had agreed that it was time to let everyone in on the little vigilante snooping problem they were having now that the heroes had made it clear they weren’t going to be leaving the issue alone, and Danny was not looking forward to it.

“Alright, Danny, what shitshow did you get yourself into this time?” Sam’s despondent voice asked and Danny gasped in offense.

“Hey, what makes you think I got myself into trouble? Can’t a guy just want to talk with his best friends?”

Four unimpressed glares stared back at him and he cringed a bit as Ellie cackled.

“Yeah, dude, what’s going on?” Tucker asked, worry clear in his voice and Danny felt a bit bad for not giving them any details past the need for a call.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, so you know how Gotham has it’s hoard of vigilantes?”

Valerie narrowed her eyes, “The group of bat furries? Yeah, D, we helped with the research before you moved there, we know all about them.”

Danny huffed a laugh, “Yeah, well,” he drew out the word and Ellie elbowed him with an eye roll.

“Danny got himself a couple of vigilante stalkers who are now very interested in Amity and all things ghosts.”

Danny sighed and glared at Ellie who just shrugged, “What? It’s true and you were taking forever to say it.”

“Yeah, but I was trying to find a way that wouldn’t do that,” he gestured to the four sets of incredulous eyes blinking back at them. Ellie shrugged again.

“What the fuck, Danny?” Sam exclaimed at the same time as Jazz groaned his name, while Val buried her face in her hands and Tucker started tapping furiously on his PDA.

“Okay, so apparently cutting through some sketchy alleyways and stopping a few muggings while invisible is a pretty good way to get on the city’s protector’s radar, who’d have thunk?”

Sam and Jazz’s eyes widened a bit more, “Danny, please do not tell us that you’ve been using Phantom to stop petty crime in a city that we specifically all agreed that you’d not moonlight in because of the risk of the fucking Batman finding you out.”

Jazz swearing was never a good sign. Danny held his hands up. “Hey! I’m not that dumb!”

Ellie tilted her head with a unconvinced, “Eh,” and Danny pushed her away with a bit of his ghostly strength as she just cackled and didn’t budge much. Stupid ghost clone sisters.

“Seriously, I’m not moonlighting as Phantom, I promise!” Danny turned his attention back to the phone.

“Yeah,” Ellie chimed in, “he’s just gaslighting Red Robin and Red Hood into thinking that he’s being haunted by Phantom.”

Danny groaned again, “Seriously, El, you are not helping.”

“Oh, I think she’s being very enlightening,” Val disagreed, finally lifting her head from her hands to glare at Danny who shrunk back a bit against the force of it. “Now, elaborate.”

“Okay, so it started with Red Hood who kinda saw me let a thug’s fist phase through me when I was getting lightly mugged and he assumed I was a meta, which, honestly was rude and discriminatory if I’m being honest, and I called him out on it too but then he showed up in my apartment a few days later with Red Robin who called me by my old name and had a bunch of creepy stalker-photos of me and the crime scenes and also accused me of being involved with them, so I may have bullshitted and dropped some hints about Amity and ghosts, so,” he sucked in a gulping breath at the end and shrugged, feigning nonchalance “that’s that.”

The silence was damning as they all stared at him and let the rambling words sink in. Tucker was the first to break it.

“So, let me get this straight. You decided it was a good idea to turn yourself invisible to stop some crime, despite the city being under heavy surveillance by the Bats, which I definitely remember warning you about, by the way,” Danny flinched a bit at the reminder, but Tucker continued on, “and then got yourself caught and on the radar of at least two of the city’s vigilantes who confronted you about it and clearly did a background check if they were able to find your parents’ last name and you decided that it was a good idea to tell them to look deeper into Amity and your parents so they would hopefully assume that not only ghosts are in fact real, something we’re apparently assuming they did not know before, but that you brought one with you into Batman’s city and it’s running around stopping criminals? Did I get everything?”

“Oh, and he invited Red Hood to have dinner with him!” Ellie grinned and Danny dropped his head to the desk, whining pitifully at the resounding chaos that her words brought. The portal should have killed him all the way when it had the chance. His life would have been so much simpler.

When the brutal ribbing finally died down, Danny was able to, unsuccessfully, explain and got even more teasing and accusations of having some serious lapses in judgment thrown at him. Eventually, they got back to the serious topics and Danny was more flustered and exhausted than he’d ever remembered being since his disastrous crush on Paulina in freshman year.

“Okay, but seriously, how do we want to handle this situation?” Jazz asked and they all sobered up. “I mean, we’re facing a serious risk of exposure here. Not only with just the existence of ghosts, but dredging up every incident in Amity Park and possibly the existence of the Realms as well. If the Justice League gets involved, this could get real bad real quick, Danny.”

Danny sighed, “I know. I need to talk with the Council and see exactly how they want to handle this as well, but,” he hesitated, not sure why he was apprehensive about sharing the information but he knew they all had their grievances with the League and some unflattering opinions born by their silence and lack of response over the years. “But I have a feeling that the League may not even know anything about Amity or ghosts,” he heard some scoffing and twisted his mouth a bit, “I know. I know what we’ve thought over the years but I mean, Red Robin looked into Amity and didn’t find anything about distress calls or our ghost problems? That doesn’t sit right with me. If they knew about us and were purposefully not helping, then surely they would at least recognize the name, right? They’d have information and files, but both Hood and Red seemed so genuinely confused and shocked by the little information I gave and then I asked about if the League had call logs and Hood said they’d look into them. At the very least, I don’t think the Bats have any clue about any of it.”

Tucker didn’t look very convinced, but his voice was careful when he said, “Or it means that they’re operating with more secrecy and have the files protected. I mean, I know Batman is a full member of the League, but none of the other Gotham vigilantes are, right?” Danny wracked his brain to try and remember if that was true, while the rest of them nodded in agreement.

“Even if your vigilantes don’t know, that doesn’t mean that Batman and the rest of the League aren’t still involved and possibly against us,” Val said soft but firm and Danny chewed at his lip. He knew they were right, but he really, really wanted to believe that the heroes were better than that. That if they truly knew what was going on, they would try to help, as they had with the meta rights protection Acts. That they would at least want to hear the ghosts out and not blindly go off of the GIW and Drs. Fenton’s biased words alone.

“Listen,” Jazz’s voice was soft as well and her eyes were full of concern through the screen, “like you said, your vigilantes seem to be keeping this information to themselves for now, right?” Danny nodded, slightly amused that they kept referring to Red and Hood as his vigilantes, and she continued, “So let’s see what they come up with. Let’s see if they’re willing to listen and help, or if they have any information on what the League may or may not know before we panic. Danny, talk with the council and see what they have to say about it all and we’ll go from there.”

He appreciated her trying to stay positive and not going into doomsday prep. He knew the worst case scenario would result in him having to leave Gotham. He knew that would crush him. He really, really hoped that his vigilantes would try to help, that they would hear him out. If not, then Danny didn’t know if he could handle giving up his and Ellie’s chance at a (relatively) normal life with (relatively) normal friends.

The thought settled like a stone in his stomach, heavy and painful. He hoped for the better outcome, for both his own sake and the sake of his little sister’s.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Jason’s run in with Danny at the coffee shop was certainly a happy surprise. Well, it was an embarrassing and awkward shitshow but after Jason got over the initial mortification of literally dousing the poor guy in his own coffee he could admit that the interaction ended about as good as it could have. He had successfully gotten Danny’s number and Tim’s awful concoction of almost pure espresso shots seemed to be a hit, which didn’t surprise Jason at all with how much Danny looked like a particularly handsome zombie, his eye bags nearly as dark as B’s stupid black eye paint he insisted on smearing beneath the cowl to further the ‘mystery’ or whatever the old man insisted on (Jason just thought it made him look like one of the soggy emo teenagers that sulked around the music shops, but Bruce never seemed to care much about Jason’s opinions so if the old man wanted to look like a poor imitation of a raccoon, then so be it).

If Jason didn’t have a skewed perspective on what healthy sleeping habits were he might have been more worried for Danny, but he knew that the sleep deprivation would undoubtedly be chalked up to college stress and projects and his eyes had been more lively after a few sips of the coffee so he figured Danny would be fine. Plus, the knowledge that he could now check up on the guy via text to make sure he wasn’t actually at risk of passing out while walking helped. A lot.

The interaction was nearly enough to distract Jason from what he had even been at that coffee shop for in the first place. Nearly.

He had agreed to meet with Tim to discuss what the detective had been able to pull from the call log search, and the results were more harrowing than either of them anticipated. Amity Park had made hundreds of distress calls, starting from six years ago all of varying intensities and importance and spanning nearly two years until they abruptly stopped. All of them had been marked ‘RESOLVED’ nearly as fast as they had come in, without a corresponding incident report or an ID stamp to show who had responded to the messages, which shouldn’t have even been possible with how the system was set up to prevent exactly that from happening. It was very clear that whoever had done it went through drastic measures to make sure no one else knew about it or checked into Amity Park.

Worst and most worrying of all were the last distress messages sent, spanning four days:

AMITY HAS BEEN TAKEN. PLEASE HELP.

48 HOURS STRANDED IN THE ZONE. NO END IN SIGHT. WE NEED HELP.

PARIAH IS ATTACKING. AMITY WILL BE LOST. HELP. US.

PLEASE. ANYONE.

Tim hadn’t been able to find any record of what might have possibly happened to Amity Park to warrant that message (or who or what ‘Pariah’ might be), but it was the last one ever sent, nearly four years ago. Tim had verified that Amity was indeed still around and from what he found, everything seemed fine. But it was clear that something had happened and that the League hadn’t stepped in to help. It was worrying, to say the least, and Jason couldn’t stop replaying the way Danny had sounded and the tense resignation in his face when he asked Jason to look into it.

They had mentioned bringing Bruce into the loop to see if he knew anything about it, but they had both ultimately decided to talk to Danny once more to see if he’d offer any information before dragging the League into it (especially when it was clear that Danny didn’t trust the League to help at this point).

Tim hadn’t been able to scrounge much up about the mysterious GIW, though he had managed to find more of the Drs. Fenton’s research along with seemingly endless designs and patents of various weapons and machines all intended for working on ghosts, or ecto-entities as they put it. Their research on ectoplasm was apparently highly interesting according to Tim and had sent him into a deep rabbit hole, but Jason was more focused on finding the GIW and trying to figure out how exactly Danny fit into this whole thing.

Tim had left in a rush after realizing the time but Jason lingered a while after, mind still racing. Which is how he ended up disgracing himself by stumbling into Danny and leaving with a racing heart as those bright blue eyes followed him, making him itch with the urge to turn back around and ask every question that was burning to be answered.

The roar of his engine and wind whipping through his jacket was a decent distraction, and donning the suit and helmet was even better. He didn’t usually patrol when the sun was still out, but he needed something to curb the restless energy that made his limbs buzz and he had nothing else to do that day.

His mind wandered back to Danny at every spare moment, trying to parse together the connection between him and the supposed ghost that had tagged along to Gotham. It didn’t make sense to Jason, why a ghost would attach itself to someone who’s parents were so extremely dedicated to the forceful research of said ecto-entities. He would assume something like that would stay as far away from the Drs. Fenton’s as possible if they didn’t want to be caught and experimented on. (Which, from their research sounded like a possibility, though Jason also didn’t understand how one could experiment on a ghost. He was getting tired of all the things he didn’t understand.)

He struck unexpected gold while talking to one of the street kids he watched out for in exchange for information (at least, that’s what the kids thought the agreement was — the information was just a bonus to Jason who’d look out for the kids regardless, but he remembered being a street rat himself and how any act of kindness could feel like a trap, the need to be square and even to avoid owing someone more than you could give).

The mention of some weird guys in white suits normally wouldn’t give him more than a second’s pause, but now it set alarm bells off and when asked for more specifics he found himself talking with a few of his other contacts and getting confirmation that there seemed to be quite a few of these mysterious ‘guys in white’ roaming around Gotham, close enough to Crime Alley to be noticed by some of the residents but never doing anything to warrant further scrutiny.

No one seemed to know how many there were or where they operated out of (or what their goals were, if any), but he had a gut feeling that they were the same group that Danny had described and asked a few people to keep a closer eye on any of the men that they could, hoping to be able to solve at least part of the mystery Danny had presented them.

𓆩⟡𓆪

Every conversation with Danny was both enlightening and completely frustrating.

Tim had a long list of subjects to research but finding any information on Amity or these ‘Guys In White’ was like pulling teeth. He scoured the internet for articles or statements and came away with frustratingly little to show for it.

He had found a few promising blogs from various Amity Park residents that mentioned ghosts and the name Phantom in particular, and had most of his luck with a niche high school newspaper archive he finally tracked down that provided grainy pictures of said resident ‘ghost boy’ and various tales of attacks that Tim knew better than to think were exaggerated based on the quantity and subjects of the distress calls the League had received and had marked as ‘resolved’, but what the hell. He didn’t understand how rogues as powerful as these had flown under the League’s radar all this time, and he was still in the process of figuring out who, exactly, had fucked with the calls and left Amity to the mercy of a truly staggering amount of rogues with no back up.

Tim was nearly ready to make a trip to Amity himself to see what the fuck was going on. Hell, he was about ready to go to Batman with everything and let him flush out the incompetent asshole and put the fear of Vengeance into whoever fucked up this badly. But, that would have to wait. Tim needed more concrete proof, needed a complete report before he went to Bruce with the subject of ghosts and despite his logic, he also wanted to keep working with Danny before bringing others into this mess. He wanted to trust the guy, and he wanted Danny to trust them to be able to help. He’d clearly already been failed by the League, Tim didn’t want to burn him twice.

Surprisingly, it was Jason who found the most valuable information regarding the GIW.

“Apparently they were officially disbanded several years ago, but there’s a rogue group of ex-operatives that are trying to keep things going. And guess where they’re based out of?”

Tim sighed. “Is B going to like this?”

“Absolutely not,” Jason said grimly.

“Well, fuck. Do you have any information on exactly where?”

Jason sighed, “No. Getting the little information I got was a fucking pain in my ass, but I have eyes out and hopefully I’ll get a location soon.”

Tim decided he didn’t want to know how Jason got the intel and sighed, looking down at their spread of information. It was depressing him. “Yeah, same here. It’s like everything that I’m searching for specifically has been fucking scrubbed from the internet. It’s infuriating.”

Jason grunted in agreement and leaned back in his seat, staring at the files and news article copies and still-fuzzy despite being enhanced photos. Tim was snapped out of his own musings when Jason suddenly sat upright with a, “Fuck me.”

“What?” Tim asked in fervor.

“Get me a notepad and pen,” Tim did as asked without complaint, a true testament to how badly he wanted to figure this shit out.

He watched over Jason’s shoulder as he started to make a list and what — oh.

Oh.

“Holy shit.”

#jisvis #jisvis ch.3 #vee’s writing #vee’s wips #vee’s dpxdc fics