#EDIT: tumblr fucked up the format. should be fixed now though
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They love each other very much I think
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#i drew these at 1am#i need#sleep.#dsaf#dayshift at freddy's#dsaf dave#dsaf jack#jack kennedy#dave miller#davesport#valentines day#tangerine_art.png#EDIT: tumblr fucked up the format. should be fixed now though
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Gonna try and sneakily post after dnd let’s see how fast I can yeet this up 👀 new chapter!!
(I was kinda considering pushing out the porn parody to push me over one million words on AO3, but I have to be in the mood to write good smut, whereas I’m damn near always in the mood for crack, so here we are
The porn parody has been started though, and the first chapter is edging its way to completion. I will be starting an entirely new taglist for the porn parody though, so do say in the comments here if you would like to be tagged in the first chapter of that!)
I got to use a little of my actual real life work knowledge for once in my life, instead of my unending stash of random knowledge 👀 it’s a bold new world and I bet you ANYTHING Bruce never documents his code
Eleven million backup plans for if marshmallows take over the world, but someone else sits to debug the batcomputer? Zip. Nothing. Fuck them if they can’t read Bruce they aren’t authorised to touch it
As may be rather obvious… We’re right up in the bats again this chapter, and Bruce is going to make some Inadvisable Decisions 😈
I’m sure this will have absolutely no consequences whatsoever! This chapter also came in a little short, since there’s not quiiiiite enough space left to squeeze in our next scene, Danny Attempts To Make Jason Kill Him In A Motorcycle Accident
This means we should not brick ANYONES’ tumblr! (Like that’ll happen, my poor mobile using fellows)
Note: there is a reason why I’m choosing when to use our various vigi’s human names while they’re masked, I didn’t miss one on the “edit” that is formatting this mess for Tumblr 😁
First Chapter and AO3 link:
Previous Chapter:
——————
One Fine Day In The Middle Of The Night
About twenty minutes after dropping Danny off at his dorm, Jason was suited up and ready to go.
Well, he’d stayed outside until he’d seen Danny shut the door behind him first. Jason had some fucking manners, though if pressed he couldn’t name who’d taught him them.
It was a habit older than the streets, watching to be sure his friends got to safety.
Danny’s dorm was about fifteen minutes from one of Jason’s better safe houses, as it happened. Jason had never been to a dorm, but from Danny’s stories?
A step below Teen Titans’ bunks, and those had sucked. Less privacy, smaller rooms, and more people? Who weren’t even part of the same team?
Maybe next semester Jason could offer to let Danny move in. He didn’t need need the safe house.
Red Hood could always buy the building. There were other apartments and while they weren’t luxurious, they beat half his other spots. The neighbourhood wasn’t bad either.
It’d be nice to pay Danny back a bit. Not have him closer. Just. Repay some of the debt by giving him a place to stay, rent free.
And maybe, just a little bit, the part of Jason that enjoyed the romanticism of his period novels kinda liked the idea. An estate for the king on your lands was a big deal back then.
A slightly more modern part of him thought being a landlord for his ruler would also be pretty funny. He figured Danny would enjoy that side too.
And it wasn’t like the guy could complain, since he’d literally given Jason back himself. Yeah, Jason was gonna pull that one out if Danny tried any familiar “oh I can’t accept this” on him.
Fixing his core was pretty damn god level on the favours spectrum. Jason could do whatever the hell he liked and Danny would just have to deal with it.
It cheered him up a little more, kept him in a good mood on the ride back to his safe house. It was more time where he couldn’t help Cass, but seriously?
Danny could change in a matter of seconds and be at her side not much slower. Walls, cars, goons, Jason had this feeling that none of it would slow Danny down.
And yeah, knowing that helped, but there was still a piece of him that only unknotted as he slid his helmet on and headed to the window.
“Hey, Black Bat. Busy?” He asked as the comms switched from earpiece to helmet display.
Of course he wore both. People kept trying to steal his damn helmet. That was also what the internal explosives were for.
The others all piped up when they heard him, Harper and Steph calling cheerful greetings around an ongoing conversation.
“Shit, Hood’s in, this mean I can go back to bed?” Bluebird teased. Spoiler cut her off immediately.
“Hell no, it can’t be a school night, Robin’s here! Great timing though Hood, we’re planning Red Robin’s eulogy and you have some experience there,” Spoiler chirped brightly, and Jason hesitated.
Sucked in a breath. He wasn’t gonna judge anyone else’s coping mechanisms until they got past “heads in a bag” levels.
Best to ignore it, since she wasn’t actually trying to set him off.
What the hell had Tim done since they’d left the manor?
Shaking his head, Jason settled into Red Hood and hopped onto the fire escape, scaling easily to the roof.
“Black Bat?” He repeated instead of answering, and half smiled when Spoiler groaned dramatically.
Black Bat answered in the considerate group pause.
“Not busy. Why?” She sounded amused, not even particularly tired, and Jason relaxed enough to slip all the way in.
“Thinking of going a little out of my way tonight. Wondered if you’d mind a tagalong?” Red Hood asked, hoping he sounded casual.
It wasn’t like he’d been planning to patrol the Alley anyway; his guys had already been told to handle it. He’d have to run around tomorrow night to keep the creepers scared, but he could have a couple off.
The tiny pause before her answer didn’t quite feel like judgement, but Jason muted before blowing out the sigh as she did. It wasn’t like the others needed to know he’d been stressing.
“Sure. Meet at library?” She’d had his tracker up. Hood nodded, turning and running for the edge of the roof.
“Sounds good.” And they’d probably wound Spoiler up enough, she’d start plotting vengeance for being ignored soon. “So what the hell did Little Red do?”
“Brought Too Fine to the Bat Cave,” Spoiler told him with relish, not noticeably put out by the delay.
Not necessarily a good sign, since she was also this enthusiastic while actively plotting against him.
Wait.
Too Fine was Tucker’s hacker name.
“But he doesn’t know about us,” Red Hood said with a frown, catching an outcropping and swinging on.
“Oh, now you tell me,” Tim groused while the others snickered, “what a shame you didn’t think to when it’d have actually been helpful!”
News to Hood that he was on, probably still in the cave.
“He knows now,” Nightwing chimed in brightly, probably also travelling from the slight strain in his voice.
Hood paused for a moment, letting that sink in before attempting the next jump.
“Is he on comm?” He asked warily, because if Tim brought Tucker to the bat cave, it was entirely possible that they were all outed.
And that Tucker might tell Danny he was Red Hood.
Shit, he still had to text Harley. Resolving to do it once he hit the library, he set back to running, throwing himself across another street.
Black Bat would probably take a little longer to get there.
“He’ll be back, he’s in the bathroom,” Tim explained with a heavy sigh, shaking his head. “It’s not all bad, he’s given me the full story on what happened in Amity Park. Witness account and all.”
“From a witness you let down to the bat cave~” Spoiler sang sweetly across the air.
Red Hood could hear Oracle rolling her eyes as she cut in.
“Tone it down, Batgirl. Bluebird, if you’re still thinking of heading in, could you swing past one last site on your way?” She said firmly, then lightening her tone for their current guest.
“Batgirl who? I’m Spoiler,” Spoiler grumbled, but didn’t push beyond that. None of them did when Oracle invoked the name she’d had before any of them masked up.
Bluebird snickered at her before answering the question, a hint of exertion suggesting she was on the move too.
“I’m not actually in a rush to go home, O, I got all dressed up so I might as well enjoy one last hurrah.”
Right, because she’d be going back to school probably when Danny did.
Harper had always been a damn good hero in Jason’s books, but she valued her retirement and none of them really wanted to ruin it. Unless, apparently, seven bats just had to stalk Jason’s new friends.
Hood would have apologized, but frankly if she’d said no, some of the others couldn’t have come to the gala to be a pain in his ass.
And then he couldn’t have had so much fun fucking with them.
Fine. One cool fruit basket for the Row household, and some rainbow cupcakes for Cullen. He needed practice on frosting roses anyway.
Although that also reminded him.
“Hey Bluebird, have the others filled you in on Phantom?” He asked, cutting off some more background chatter from Spoiler and Tim.
Nightwing and the girls had had hours by now.
“What, your new boyfriend?” Bluebird asked sweetly, and Hood rolled his eyes.
Probably hit the important shit then.
“Sent you a picture?” He asked instead, decidedly not entertaining that question.
Nightwing and Spoiler snickered. Hood flipped off their general directions, settling himself comfortably on the roof of the library to wait for Black Bat.
There was a short pause, the others now wondering what he was getting at. Good.
“In and out of suit,” Bluebird agreed, curiosity tinging with mild suspicion. Being out of retirement clearly wasn’t good for her.
Hood nodded, pulling out his phone and shooting Harley a quick text. It might be moot now, asking her not to mention Red Hood shit in front of Danny, but he might as well.
He still had to ask if Waylon knew. Might as well ask. And see if Tucker knew when he got back.
“I know you’re outta the game, but keep the light show to a minimum if you see him around, okay?” He asked, scanning quickly over the list Danny’d cleared for public discussion.
He didn’t know if Tucker would have mentioned it, but he might as well. Cause of death was good, but Jason personally would veto “and the effects it may have now”.
Because fuck Bruce and his need for everyone to show him their weaknesses.
Bluebird definitely sounded curious now, and possibly like she was punching someone.
“Oh? He not big on the electricity?” She wondered aloud, and Hood grimaced.
Because if they were both at Gotham U in engineering… there was actually a chance Harper and Danny would run into each other.
Danny was older, but Harper skipped a couple years and he had no idea what year Danny was in. Fuck, they might be in the same classes. He couldn’t believe he’d never thought of that.
“Not exactly. You mighta seen him around actually, he’s an engineer too. But he’s not a fan of the electricity flying around,” he explained, Nightwing making background noises that told Hood he hadn’t put the pieces together either.
Good. At least he wasn’t alone.
Bluebird made an interested hum, and probably a finishing blow considering the satisfaction when she spoke next.
“I thought he looked familiar. But then, he’s total Wayne-bait. Yeah, I can keep the good stuff under wraps if I see him around. Gonna guess he’s had some bad shocks in the line of work?”
Hood hesitated and in exactly the same instant Black Bat landed on the roof. Sam had given them all the warning about talking about a ghost’s death, so he could leave it at that.
But…
The way Danny had looked when he explained about Vlad. Yeah, he’d rather they took this seriously. He didn’t want any of his family to hurt Danny, even by accident.
“It’s how he died. He won’t spontaneously combust or anything, but it’s a bad memory.”
Silence reigned while the others absorbed that particular detail, Black Bat crossing to crouch on the roof beside him. Hood leaned over enough to bump their shoulders together.
He could almost feel concern radiating off her, which was an extra weird experience after literally feeling all of Danny’s emotions half the day.
Guess that was where Cass’s liminality was going. It made sense, kind of; despite her occasional trouble speaking, she was pretty much the clearest communicator in the family.
Having another back up way to make herself heard would only fit.
On a whim, he tried projecting comfort back to her. Black Bat didn’t seem to notice, though whether that meant more on her part or his was the question.
She leaned in and bumped him back, her expression unreadable between the full face mask and the shadows.
“Heard and understood, Hood,” Bluebird agreed after a minute, her tone unusually solemn. Hopefully Dickie would take it to heart too.
The odds of Danny running into Nightwing weren’t great if he stuck to Blüdhaven, but Dick was a nosy bastard and there was always one “emergency” or another.
Better than the odds of running into Bluebird, although Harper would almost definitely look him up at school.
Maybe Jason should warn him.
“Maybe you could build him a faraday suit,” Spoiler mused, and Red Hood snickered.
“Handy, but then we couldn’t contact him,” he reminded her and she groaned loudly.
“Hey, if we’re both techies he’ll probably have his own idea. I’ll look him up out of costume, it’s my turn to say hi,” Bluebird decided, and Hood shot Danny a quick text.
Just a heads up.
A picture of Harper, captioned “beware of sibling. May be looking you up in class”. Black Bat giggled beside him, head cocked to watch the screen.
Harper wasn’t technically one of the Waynes, but if Waylon counted she definitely had to, and it wasn’t like Bruce picked his family. Asshole.
A few minutes later he got a message back from Danny.
‘DannyP: !!!!! I know her! 😳😳🤯 She does the cool nanobots! Half our year is betting if she’s a rogue or a vigi 👀 inside info??’
Which was fair, since just knowing Jason wouldn’t be much of a hint either way.
“He knows you,” Black Bat reported to the others, Bluebird immediately bitching that she’d been ratted out.
Red Hood mostly ignored her, texting Danny back.
‘JTodd: Neither anymore. She was a vigi, but she’s retired and getting her degree. No idea if she’ll come back after.’
“Odds you’ll change sides and go rogue, Bluebird?” He asked into a pause, and very much enjoyed the momentary stumped silence. “Apparently there’s a hefty bet.”
Momentary, because everyone had an opinion on that and had to share it. Everyone except Bluebird herself, who seemed to be thinking it over.
“What’re the odds for rogue?” She asked thoughtfully, immediately defending herself as the group booed. “What! I have student loans!”
“You are my villain arc, Red Hood,” Spoiler declared as solemnly as she could through laughter.
“I’m my own villain arc thank you so much, go find your own,” he refuted with a half grin.
“Ask Phantom,” Black Bat advised Bluebird in the meantime, which was probably fair. They weren’t good at staying on topic.
She then gave Hood another gentle nudge, probably for the same reason. Flicked off her comm for a moment.
“Wanted to talk?” She asked, and yeah, they probably should get back to it.
He gave a shrug, hauling himself up and holding a hand back down to her. Definitely not feeling guilty.
They’d tell her before anything became relevant. It just.
Well.
They were a family of fucking detectives, who could never leave well enough alone, and Jason really didn’t want them questioning his humanity.
Just once, he’d like to know something about himself before anyone else did. To have time to understand and come to terms with what he was before Twenty Questions.
Cass was very good at not asking questions though. And Black Bat turned off her comm first. Tim was distracted, probably with Tucker coming back because he’d been quiet.
No better opportunity was likely to come up.
And really, she deserved the same courtesy. Knowing about herself before the others did.
Maybe she’d have some ideas on how to tell them.
Making up his mind, Hood tapped his comms and hauled Black Bat up with his other hand.
“Hey O, gonna be offline for a minute. Text if you need me or BB, we gotta be radio silent.” There were enough possible reasons for that, he didn’t bother giving one.
Just so long as they knew.
Usually he’d just turn the comm off and swear at her if she turned him back on if he wanted peace and quiet, but… well, it was nice to hear the background chatter.
Nicer when the big Bat himself wasn’t in the field to tell them to focus.
“I always need you, baby!” Nightwing called just before he clicked off, and Red Hood rolled his eyes under the helmet.
Dramatic bitch.
He looked back to Black Bat, wondering where would be the best place for this talk. She was watching him patiently, not moving.
It had been her patrol.
“Is there anywhere on your route we can talk privately?” He asked softly, a little surprised at himself. He’d been the one who wanted to wait.
But that just made it his call who he decided to tell what, and when. And Cass… he trusted Cass.
Besides, it wasn’t like he was liminal. It’d give them something to think until he was ready.
Black Bat regarded him for a moment longer, then nodded and made her way to the edge of the roof.
“Follow.”
**
The night was wearing on, but Bruce was darkly satisfied that they were finally making progress.
Constantine’s pacing (replacing his smoking; Bruce may not have bothered arguing in the cave, but even Constantine knew better than to light a cigarette in space) had finally slowed.
Something terrible had happened in Amity Park, but even the magician was grudgingly admitting it was probably over. Left permanent scars, but getting no worse.
Unless it was on a cosmic level and would be a slow seeping problem for millennia, but Alfred had Opinions about Bruce concerning himself with issues on that time scale.
There was only so much they could do in the moment.
Another survey of the city was required, and in person since even the League’s best couldn’t take clear pictures of Amity Park.
A fact which didn’t seem to have stopped the Amity Parkers from photographing and sharing pictures of each other, according to his children. Constantine hadn’t actually argued when Bruce compared it to background radiation, so it must be close enough.
He also hadn’t done more than grimace when Bruce asked if he wanted to undertake the survey personally. That was as good as an enthusiastic agreement.
First, though? First they needed to call a meeting of the Justice League, primarily the heroes located in North America.
They had been horribly uninformed of what was going on right under their noses, and if Constantine was right… Amity Park’s problems had begun to spread.
To Gotham.
To his children.
Constantine’s grumbling that it was the miasma of death that hung over the city drawing them in had not inspired confidence, and Bruce resolved to have Zatanna over at her soonest convenience to explain.
Helping Constantine put together a report on Amity Park itself had more than convinced Bruce not to ask Constantine, even if he could have done it today. The man was…
Well. Bruce wasn’t looking forward to having to run him through the JL’s classification system again. Maybe one of his children would want to go and handle the technical side.
All he had to do was finish preparing the presentation, call the League, and he could rest. It would likely take a day or two to put a full meeting together, but he could at least fill Clark and Diana in tonight.
He could sleep in between. Just for a little while.
Right after he showed Constantine how to configure the alerts from Amity Park to direct to the Justice League Dark, not the spam folder. They hadn’t sent one in years, but he was determined not to miss any changes.
That should have been the easiest part of this whole mess. It was just a simple form, with a basic test button to ensure it worked.
Nothing too complicated even for a man who’d decided “no reply needed” meant the same thing as “too dangerous for anyone but JL Dark”.
Fine. It was fine.
Bruce loved making training videos to highlight the most basic functions of a system and ensure that people actually understood what the various controls meant. Wonderful.
It meant that they could work in parallel for a while, Bruce on the presentation for the League, Constantine to fix his mistake. In a blissful silence, even.
It couldn’t last.
“It’s not working, Bats,” the magician declared, pushing back and away from his computer. Probably to pace again.
Bruce closed his eyes, breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, and made his way across to frown at the monitor.
“Did you save your changes?” He growled, doing his best not to let the irritation show. It was getting harder every time.
Constantine rolled his eyes, definitely not helping, and pointed at the screen.
“See for yerself. Look, JLD Top Priority, like ya said. And then ya hit the top button to save, and the red button to test it, and nothing happens.”
He waited impatiently while Bruce clicked through the buttons, seeing it for himself.
Constantine wasn’t wrong. That was unexpected.
Brows furrowing under his cowl, Bruce checked the deleted requests. Three test messages from “Amity Park”.
“Hn.”
“Someone’s fucked ya system,” Constantine commented dryly, sounding unduly pleased that it wasn’t his fault.
Something other than his haphazard filing had apparently been causing some of their problems. Bruce… just didn’t have the time tonight.
He nodded over to his screen instead, pulling up his wrist computer to send a private message to Tim in the cave. How long could a tour take?
Tim could find what was going wrong long before he’d have the time.
“I’ve compiled most of the presentation on creatures of the Realms. Is there anything important I should add?” He asked gruffly and Constantine sighed dramatically and flounced over.
Bruce firmly ignored Steph’s voice in his ear.
Not because he didn’t agree, whatever a “woobie” was.
He just needed Constantine’s once over to confirm he had all the pertinent information, and then he could call Clark and Diana.
Head home.
Get to bed.
“Looks fine. I should check yer damn revenant some time soon too though.”
Bruce froze, finger just above the send button on that tech request to Tim.
His fucking what.
**
Black Bat led them easily across the city, along what was probably her normal patrol route. Taking her cue from Red Hood, she didn’t rush, but soon indicated that they turn off into a small alley between two warehouses.
Hell, not even a proper alley. A gap where the buildings hadn’t quite smushed together.
Red Hood recognized the area from Nightwing’s bitching; there’d been a bust here last week, and something had cloaked the whole block from surveillance.
These days, he was almost tempted to check what Danny knew about it. Ghosts fucked with technology in ways none of the bats would find.
Black Bat stopped them half way down the gap, feet braced against one wall and her back to the other, leaving her “sitting” about twenty feet off the ground.
Hood matched her a little further down, grumbling a little at the crush. Almost a foot taller, it wasn’t exactly a comfortable position for him, but he’d held worse.
They were stable, and damn near impossible to observe. This was as good as they’d get.
“So,” he began, and immediately realized he had no fucking clue what to say.
Black Bat’s flat, expressionless mask was not helpful.
Hood wished he could pull his helmet off, just to run his hands through his hair. But they were on patrol.
Black Bat just waited, silent and patient while he wrestled with himself. Finally he decided to just spit it out.
“Danny died, and came back,” he said in a rush, glancing over to her.
Black Bat nodded.
“Like you.”
“Like us,” Hood corrected, groaned, and switched off the voice modulator. Actually, fuck it, he had his domino on.
He pulled the helmet off, balancing it in his lap. He could shove it back on if it came time to go.
Black Bat was beside him now, almost close enough to touch. Close enough to lean in and bump their shoulders together.
“One main difference,” she noted thoughtfully, then tapped her chest, “no skin change.”
Which, yeah, Jason had been hoping to emphasize before any of the family got too far down the right track.
“Right,” he agreed, leaning back to stare blankly into the smog of Gotham above them.
Fuck. How do you even say it? How do you tell someone they’re not fully human anymore?
Someone like Cass, who’d been raised to believe she’d never been human, by force. Just a weapon.
Her hand was in his now, and he couldn’t be sure if he’d reached out or she had. He stared down at their laced fingers instead.
“You know how people get when they spend too long around the pit water,” he began slowly, trying a different path.
Cass had been raised around the League of Assassins. She knew.
And took the change of topic fully in stride, nodding and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
“Erratic,” she mused softly, her face tilted to the wall across, “unpredictable, especially if they went in.”
No one was going to say Ra’s Al Ghul was an unstable mess of a man, but no one had to. Still, how controlled he was was impressive, especially after you saw what mere exposure to the fumes did to other people.
Red Hood nodded, sighing softly.
“Danny’s parents kept it in the fridge. He was… exposed long before he died,” he explained quietly.
If he was talking about himself, he’d say “contaminated”. Hell, it was the word Danny used when explaining it to the bats.
Jason just couldn’t use it about Danny. It just wasn’t right.
Black Bat stilled, almost enough to be mistaken for a statue instead of a living being. Was that her liminality too? Or just her training?
Red Hood couldn’t stand it either way, giving her hand a gentle tug.
“He told me… being around it too long can change a person, even if they never get dunked,” he said slowly, trailing off again.
“We got dunked,” Black Bat said quietly, her hand curling more tightly around his. There was no hint of emotion in her voice, and Jason hated it.
Pulled her closer, doing all he could to project comfort-sorry-concerned-love you. Wishing he’d asked Danny to teach him to do that first.
Neither of them had really considered he’d need it, since Danny was so good at reading him. But he needed her to know she wasn’t alone.
Her shoulders hunched suddenly, body tensed to spring until her head snapped round to focus on him.
He could… he could feel surprise from her. Maybe it was working.
He gave a graceless half shrug, grinding his shoulders against filthy bricks.
Tried to project yeah it’s weird for me too, but wasn’t sure how well it came across. Anything beyond pure feelings was a little tricky for him to push, though he could usually work out what Danny was saying.
“We got dunked,” he agreed quietly, resolving instead to wrap her in love-protect-safe-safe-safe, “and sometimes… that changes you even without a flashy transformation.”
It was an awful explanation and he knew it, could practically feel her eyes darting all over his face, his posture, reading things he probably wasn’t aware he was showing.
Then she relaxed all at once, settling in and leaning part of her weight on him as well as the wall. He braced automatically to take it. He wouldn’t let her fall.
“He called it being “liminal”,” he explained softly, working an arm around her shoulders above the wall to coax more of her weight onto him. “I don’t know what it means for you yet, BB. But nothing bad. He was sure it wouldn’t be bad.”
Black Bat made a soft humming sound, obediently shuffling so he could wrap his arm around her. Looking down at their still twined hands.
“Can feel you,” she said softly, hand rising to tap gently against the red bat on his chest. “Big brother.”
It startled a bark of laughter out of him, because… well, yeah. A good way to sum up everything he’d wanted to tell her without words.
Felt a quick rush of satisfaction from Black Bat, and tried to answer it with relief-agree-protect.
“Yeah, that’s the fuckin’ weirdest part,” he agreed dryly, almost felt the rush of her giggle more than he heard it. “Apparently some liminals get this… aura around them. Sharing what they feel. I didn’t know if you would…”
What? If she’d notice? If she’d be able to feel the same things?
Black Bat nodded, head tipping up to meet his gaze once again.
“Robin? Batman?” She asked, and Jason hesitated.
He couldn’t talk to either of them about it. Not yet. Bruce would fucking push, he always did, and wouldn’t stop until he tore the secrets out of him. Damian would just run to Bruce.
But it was a valid question. And they did sort of deserve to know just as much.
For now he took refuge in what he knew, shrugging it off.
“Danny thinks they’re liminal, but… not as far along as we are.”
Not as close to death. Not as close to not being human, although technically they were both legally non-sentient, so that was fun.
“D’you really think either of them have the emotional bandwidth to share?” He tried to joke, covering the moment.
Black Bat just stared at him until he fell silent. Then nodded.
“Should tell them. No rush,” she added almost before Jason could tense, leaning back in and resting her head on his shoulder, “have been for a while, yes?”
Jason paused a moment longer, shook his head, and snickered.
“Cannot believe I ever doubted you’d be able to do the whole “emotional telepathy” thing,” he grumbled good naturedly, and Black Bat glowed with gentle amused.
“Better than you,” she told him archly, sounding for a moment like Steph when she was teasing Tim. Jason gave her a squeeze.
“Don’t I know it. But yeah, it’s not a new thing, and won’t mean anything to anyone unless one of us dies again.” Which he wasn’t going to think about.
Shit, someone said Robin was out tonight.
Nope. Not thinking about it. Robin had been patrolling for years, and as much as he whined about his solo patrol route, he never deviated.
Not after Oracle had highlighted his route on his wrist computer for him and proved she could see every footstep. She wouldn’t necessarily tell Bruce, but she’d always know.
Black Bat nodded, resting against him for a moment longer before sitting up again.
“You want to wait.” It wasn’t a question, but he felt compelled to answer.
Picked up his helmet, turning it over slowly in his hands. But of course she’d understand. She always did.
“I want to know what this means to me before I have B poking and prying into every part of my life,” he said quietly, staring into the eye slits of the helmet.
Black Bat ruffled his hair.
“Can wait,” she agreed gently, switching her position to have a hand and foot on either wall. Ready to move on. “No rush.”
Red Hood pulled his helmet back on and matched her, the pair climbing quickly out of the crack between the warehouses. It almost wasn’t worth saying, but…
“You can tell the others if they ask. I just…”
“Don’t want questions,” Black Bat agreed lightly, flipping up onto the roof. “Can ask Danny when the time comes.”
“Yeah,” Red Hood agreed, crouching beside her. “Mind if I stick with you on patrol tonight?”
He sort of hoped she’d think it was unrelated, but another moment of stillness passed across her as she regarded him.
“Until we die again,” she repeated his own words, and Hood was pretty happy she couldn’t see his face anymore as he grimaced.
Not that it mattered, another shot of amused shooting between them, followed by a much softer appreciated.
At least she wasn’t judging him for being a mother hen.
“Understand.”
**
Tim and Tucker had made quick work of the interview, and Tim was pretty much running out of questions when the batcomputer pinged with an incoming message.
Tucker gave it a longing look and Tim chuckled softly, wheeling himself over.
“Hang on. Might be one of the others out on patrol,” he explained, right clicking to pull up the monitor that tracked the bats’ various dominos out and about.
Tucker stared up at it politely, diverting his attention from what Tim was doing on the other screen, no matter how curious he was. Showing trust and all that.
It was actually really cool too; he’d not really seen a map of Gotham, and having one superimposed with little glowing lights of the various heroes on patrol was really cool.
It wasn’t really zoomed in enough to tell if Bluebird was actually in a fight, but the little blue dot seemed to be the only one standing still, so Tucker assumed she was.
How cool would that be? Watching just normal human vigilantes fight and take down bad guys?
Although off the top of his head, he could already think of a couple of things to add to the monitoring program. They might already be there, he hadn’t clicked around, but like.
Vitals were all well and good, down in the corner next to each hero’s name and the colour of their dot, but just the heartbeats? That wouldn’t tell you enough.
Tucker preferred brainwaves, because then you could tell if they’d been hit with something or overshadowed.
Although maybe it was because he’d spent his time keeping track of a guy who pretty regularly did not have a heartbeat. And it also gave him more data points for some of his cooler side projects.
Understanding the different brainwave patterns an individual made in different situations was a key part of neural mapping, and adding it to the bat’s routine would get him a ton of data.
And then they could really play Mariokart.
He’d have to ask Tim if they tracked any of that later. Not all the bats wore helmets or cowls that would support the electrodes, apparently. Although if Danny could get his hands on a domino…
Tucker was snapped back to the here and now as Tim pushed back from the batcomputer, a wry grin on his lips.
“Actually, I think this might be something you could help with, Tucker. If you don’t mind a little work on your night off?” He teased, back to Tucker’s complaints about a night of fun and tech.
Like getting to play on the batcomputer did not absolutely count as fun and tech.
Tucker beamed, excitement welling up in him and cracking his knuckles. It’d be pretty cool to assist a human vigilante too. And on a tech problem!
Gotham was fucking great. If Tim really meant it about getting him an internship, Tucker might have to see about switching schools.
MIT was great, but it wasn’t Wayne Enterprises, personal meetings, or personal tech demonstrations with Tim Drake Wayne!
“Sure! What’s going on?” He asked, shuffling over to look at the other screens now that he had permission. Making sure it was obvious he hadn’t been looking.
Resisting temptation had been hard. He deserved credit.
Tim nodded to the screen, and that? That was a message from Batman. Bruce Wayne. Batman.
Tucker scanned the message, eyes widening even as Tim spoke.
“Wanna help debug the Watchtower?” Tim asked, and Tucker clutched at the back of his chair as his heart leapt, swooning just a little.
The Watchtower. The actual Watchtower. In space. Oh he was shoving that in Danny’s face for not telling him he was friends with the Bats!
There was only one real question left.
“Will Oracle be here?” He asked eagerly, looking around the rest of the screen.
A soft chuckle played from a speaker in the bottom corner, and Tucker jumped half a mile as a masked voice spoke.
“You boys have fun with this one, I’ll keep an eye on the city. If you finish early you could walk me through that server of yours?”
Oracle.
The Oracle.
They were real, they talked to him, they wanted to talk about his locked down servers! Tim lunged to catch him as Tucker collapsed, knees giving out under the swell of emotion.
All of his dreams were coming true, all at once.
He’d never been happier.
**
Danny was having a pretty quiet night in. That didn’t used to be unusual while he was in Gotham; having time to himself was still pretty much a novelty, and he wasn’t exactly a party boy.
Of course, it was a night in with some of his parents’ inventions and recently one or two of his own, so the actual “quiet” part was negotiable.
Quiet enough not to piss off his dorm mates, but luckily most of them were engineers too. They may not always know what he was doing, but they were usually interested.
Tonight, he was alone, most of the floor still being home for the holiday. That had been one of the things he’d looked forward to most about staying behind, but…
Well, after his noisy and action packed few days… he was lonely.
He wished he’d asked Jason to stay. Just because he’d said he was going to bed didn’t mean he had to do anything of the sort.
It was just that Jason had been… tense. He’d not even gotten off the bike when they arrived, just pulling over and chatting for a minute before heading out.
Like he wasn’t fully comfortable going into Danny’s place, which was kinda fair. Unlike Jason’s apartments, Danny’s dorm was a communal space.
Even if most of his dorm mates weren’t home, there was still a chance one of them might turn up. And then Danny would have someone else bugging him about his “boyfriend”.
Nope.
Besides, he’d see Jason again at 11am (he had this horrible feeling Jason might be a morning person), so it wasn’t even all that long. He should probably just go to bed.
He should check his class schedule, actually. Work out what days he’d have free, work out when he and Jason could skip to the Zone for fight club.
Wait.
Would Jason be free.
What the hell did Jason do for a living? He’d have to ask at some point, Danny mused, logging in and taking a screenshot of his class schedule for the new year.
For now, it was probably best just to send Jason the picture so he’d know when Danny was free, and then Jason could work out a good time for them to go and it wouldn’t be Danny’s problem.
Excellent. Sheer genius.
Humming happily to himself, Danny pulled up Jason’s number and sent the picture of his schedule, with the caption:
‘Let me know when ur free for field trips 👊🏻💥👻’
Eyes closing for a moment, Danny let his awareness drift out across the city. It wasn’t something he’d done a lot; Gotham wasn’t his haunt and he didn’t want to step on any toes.
Usually he’d just expand his conscious aura if he was looking for someone, but knowing how much Jason didn’t like it… well, his passive aura covered most of the state, so reaching through the same city couldn’t be all that hard.
Right?
Frostbite could find anyone, anywhere in the Far Frozen with little more than a thought. And was convinced Danny would be able to do that with the entire Zone, some day.
Danny was a little less convinced. Past the background awareness that he was no longer in Amity Park that had taken months to fade, he’d never really paid attention to his passive aura.
It’d be too tempting to feel out the rogues, or at least react to the sudden surges of aggression and danger. But he hadn’t had anyone to protect before, and he knew Jason would feel better knowing Danny could.
That was kinda why Danny hadn’t mentioned how theoretical this particular ability was, although he had no doubt he’d recognize Cass’s energy if she came close to death.
Which meant he should totally recognize it while she was alive, well, and had more energy, right?
He had no idea where she was, which parts of Gotham fell on her patrol route, but that kinda helped. It meant he couldn’t trick himself by focusing on a particular area.
Surprising precisely no one though, he found Jason first. The other halfa almost glowed when Danny was focusing on his energy, a bubbling little ball of yellow and red.
He… was maybe with Cass? Danny’s brows furrowed, nose scrunching as he tried to focus without changing his aura.
He was definitely with one of the liminals. And that quiet little light, almost blue, felt sort of like Cass. When he forced himself not to be distracted by Jason’s brighter glow.
Eyes snapping open, Danny’s concentration broke and he frowned up at the ceiling.
Well, that explained why Jason was in a hurry to get going. He was no expert in Gotham herself yet and had no idea where the two of them were, but if he tried again he could probably work it out.
Did Jason still have a suit? Or did he call Cass in, find something he could do as a civilian to have her help?
Shrugging to himself, Danny dismissed the question and hauled himself up. Might as well get to bed; they’d be back together in the morning and he could always ask.
**
Tim was scrolling through the code for the alert messaging system itself while Tucker went through the sections that pertained to Amity Park specifically on his PDA when the other boy made a sudden, startled squeak.
Tim considered pretending he hadn’t heard, but there was a chance he’d found the answer. So he glanced over.
“Any luck?” He asked, noting Tucker’s sudden strained expression. Maybe the guy needed the bathroom actually. They’d been down here a while.
Tucker laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“So… uh… what exactly does the bug we’re looking for do?” He asked in a small voice, looking more embarrassed than Tim had ever seen.
Which… was not a proportionate response for that noise. And a question that they both probably should have thought of sooner.
He’d meant to mention it, since they’d have to explain it to the Amity Parkers at some point.
“So… remember how the Justice League never responded to an alert from Amity Park?” Tim asked not a little sheepishly himself.
Tucker nodded, not actually looking any less embarrassed himself either. That was definitely a great sign.
Tim sucked in a deep breath and forged ahead.
“So, it turns out there’s a bug in the Watchtower’s systems, where anything coming in from Amity Park gets marked as spam and funnelled straight into trash. We fixed the marking as spam thing, which I guess was user error, but it’s still-”
“All going to trash,” Tucker finished with a sigh, grimacing and shaking his head, “aaaaand I think I know why. But the timeline doesn’t make sense?”
That… that wasn’t even on the same continent as what Tim’d expected he’d say.
“The timeline?” He asked, brows furrowing, sliding over to peek at Tucker’s screen.
Tucker shook his head again, angling it so that Tim could see… a section of code that shuddered faintly in and out, almost disappearing entirely every few seconds.
That.
That was not a thing that should be happening.
Tim would have loved for it to be a simple screen glitch, but it was only that one small section of code. The lines above and below were fine, and Tucker could move the flickering chunk up and down.
“Yeah, this is your problem,” the Black man sighed, wiggling the section demonstratively, clearly aware of Tim’s shattered hopes.
Heartless man. Genius man.
“You’ve had ghosts in your back end. Probably wouldn’t even show up on an uncontaminated device. Which, by the way…” he trailed off, and Tim shook his head immediately.
“Not tonight. No changes to the batcomputer without Bruce’s say so,” Tim said firmly, since he’d already fucked up once. Might as well limit the damage.
Tucker shrugged and nodded back to the section of code.
“Okay. But this… this was definitely Technus. And that makes no sense? He’s a spirit of technology, we’ve fought him a bunch of times, but if he got into the Watchtower’s code he wouldn’t just… hide,” he tried to explain, adjusting his beret fussily.
It totally wasn’t adorable.
Tim did his best to keep up though, nodding along and thinking back over everything they’d been told about ghosts so far.
“You think we’d have noticed?” He asked, and Tucker snorted.
“He likes making giant robot bodies out of toasters, you’d definitely have noticed him on your space station,” he agreed dryly, then sighed.
Frowned down at the tablet again.
“I mean, Danny could make him do it and behave himself now, but if these changes were active during the whole Pariah Dark thing… I dunno, Technus should have been a way bigger problem. He’s not subtle.”
Tim frowned, thinking about what Tucker had said and then pausing.
“Danny could make him behave now?” He asked and Tucker pulled another face. Like he hadn’t meant to say that.
“Well, yeah, Danny’s miles out of Technus’ league now,” he tried to brush it off with a laugh, “the guy knows he’ll lose any fight so he’s really not a problem anymore. We have hackathons,” he added and Tim really wanted to know more about that.
There was just. Something off about Tucker’s answer. Not the content itself, just the way Tucker clearly wasn’t saying something.
That was a problem for future Tim though. Present Tim had a job to do.
“So can you fix what he did?” He asked the important question, and Tucker made another face.
“Dude… whoever or whatever made Technus do this, will probably notice if we fuck with it,” he said warily, and Tim shrugged.
“Whoever or whatever made Technus do it couldn’t do it themselves. How would they know?” He shot back, and Tucker chewed his lip.
Shook his head.
“Lemme text Danny. He’s the ghost expert, he’ll know how much we should worry about this,” he explained quickly, pulling out his phone and shooting off a short message.
Tim gave him his very best deadpan expression.
“How much we should worry about technology ghosts getting into space and fucking with Justice League HQ. I have the feeling the answer is “a lot”?” He offered sweetly, and Tucker snickered.
“Yeah, well, we’ll see. Might actually be alright, if this is all he touched. And, since you won’t let me juice the big computer, we’d have to scan the whole thing through my PDA. Every line of code,” he added, like Tim wasn’t already dreading it.
Tim sucked in a slow breath, weighing his options.
Touching the batcomputer? Ultimate no-no. But Tim’s personal laptop… it had access to the Watchtower’s systems, and was under Tim’s personal control.
And would let Tim go through the sensitive data himself, which the core code of the Watchtower was full of. The question was, did he trust Tucker not to install anything dangerous?
That question had been answered the second he asked Tucker to help him debug though. Clearly the guy could already put what he wanted, where he wanted, and with their current tech?
None of the bats would ever know. At least if Tim’s computer got the update, he’d have a chance at spotting ecto-infused code.
There were other computers they could use of course, old or unnetworked computers that Bruce would probably insist they start with.
Which wouldn’t be able to access the Watchtower’s servers, and couldn’t hold the whole thing to be able to run a useful check.
The answer really was kinda obvious.
Tim looked to Tucker, who’d been texting away while he thought things through.
“We can’t do the batcomputer, but is there anything you could do for my laptop tonight, or do we have to wait on Danny still?” He asked, deeply regretting that they’d gone to video games instead of the tech upgrade.
At the time he’d been planning on having a burner laptop done though, so it probably wouldn’t have been as useful.
Tucker shrugged cheerfully and slid his phone into his pocket, cracking his knuckles.
“Well, I can’t give you the full infusion to let you open Amity’s encrypted data, but I can write you a little something that should expose Technus’s code even without it,” he offered, and Tim brightened up.
“How long?” He asked eagerly, wondering if Tucker would let him watch. It’d be fair if he didn’t, Tuck had been cool about not looking when Tim played on the batcomputer, but…
Tucker smirked, flicking open a new screen on his PDA.
“How long will it take you to get the laptop down here?” He asked smugly.
Tim booked shit to the elevator.
**
Private Chat: DannyP & TooFine
2:15am
‘TooFine: Danny when tf did u have Technus hack the JL’
‘DannyP: ……. 👀 u cannot prove i did that 🚫🚫’
‘TooFine: I’m helping Tim debug the Watchtower’
‘TooFine: double fuck u for not telling me about Batman btw’
‘TooFine: someone sent all the Amity alerts to trash’
‘TooFine: if we keep talking about this I might accidentally send something to the group chat 🤨’
‘DannyP: FUCK FINE DONT TELL SAM 🏳️🏳️🏳️’
‘DannyP: after the pd thing’
‘DannyP: cw called’
‘DannyP: they hadnt been reading the messages anyway i just’
‘DannyP: shitty people track the jl y’know? and i didnt want em knowing about us’
‘DannyP: let em all think its a joke and then no one else comes an tries to use our portal to harness the realms and blow up superman or whatever’
‘TooFine: dude u fucking told me to tell them what actually happened??’
‘TooFine: pretty sure anyone tracking the jl will work that out now’
‘DannyP is typing’
‘DannyP is typing’
‘DannyP is typing’
‘DannyP: ok so maybe i didnt think that through 😔😔😔’
‘TooFine: no shit. I’m fixing the code in case any new alerts come through but it’s not like they’ll bother to call’
‘DannyP: not like they need to, frighty’s got em covered 🗡️🗡️🎃’
‘TooFine: yeah yeah. I’ll set it to ping u too’
‘DannyP: ur the best tuck 🙇🏻♂️🙇🏻♂️🙇🏻♂️’
‘TooFine: better than u deserve’
**
Across the city, Red Hood and Black Bat had stopped for smoothies. Patrol was quiet, and word on the street was that Bluebird was mostly to blame.
Nobody wanted to know why she was back and taking no prisoners, so even the docks were almost deserted.
Then again, with Riddler and Waylon snapped back off the streets, Penguin lying low in fear of Harley, and Batwoman making Two Face’s life a personal hell?
Yeah, no wonder the smaller players were lying low.
Hood had pulled his phone out to check in on the Alley in case they’d be more useful there when he noticed a message from Tucker’s private chat app.
It was from Danny.
Danny had sent him his class schedule. Told Jason to let Danny know when he was free. Like class was the only thing that’d stop Danny from wanting to see him.
Jason was so lost in staring at his phone, utterly swamped in the implications, that he didn’t even notice Black Bat finish her smoothie and swap out her empty cup for his.
Danny wanted to see him again.
He’d have to work out a proper schedule of his own.
**
Bruce was having a Bad Day. An extended bad day, one that was fast approaching 48 hours long.
As if everything with Amity Park wasn’t already bad enough, both in the past and the present, now Constantine believed there was something wrong with Jason.
That his son wasn’t fully human anymore.
Now, Bruce’s best friends weren’t even a quarter human between them, and no matter what everyone seemed to think he was perfectly happy with meta humans.
So long as they kept themselves safe.
Preferably where they wouldn’t be mind controlled, kidnapped, or held hostage every few days. Frankly being a meta was probably stressful enough even in a normal city.
But he’d keep Gotham’s metas as safe as he could, just like Duke.
But Jason… Jason had been born human. Had lived as a human, died as a human, and Constantine seemed so sure he’d come back as something else.
“Revenant” the man had called him. An animated corpse that haunted the living, powered by rage.
Bruce might even have believed it two years ago, when Jason first returned. Jason had been so angry, intent on destroying Tim when the other was just a child.
When Jason was little more than a child.
But… that wasn’t all he was. He was himself, truly Jason Todd in ways Bruce hadn’t wanted to believe. He’d fought his rage and won every day.
Most days.
And being around Amity Park, being around Daniel James Fenton, might be enough to push him back over. To drag Jason closer back to death.
Halfas could act as psychopomps, bringing lost souls safely to the other side.
Jason had only just become himself again. They had only just begun healing the rift between them.
Bruce couldn’t lose him again.
They had to keep him away from Amity Park. It was as simple as that really; something in Jason’s resurrection had gone wrong and they all knew it.
Even Jason himself wouldn’t argue with that. Something about his death clung to him, poisoned him with that violent green rage.
His children’s reports told him that Danny was claiming to help with the pit rage because he had also been exposed. But what if he was just helping the pit?
Even if he didn’t mean to, exposing Jason to that much power that closely tied to death couldn’t be good. Constantine hadn’t exactly said as much, but Bruce could read between the lines.
Death magic was contagious between those who’d been infected. Who’d died and come back.
That wasn’t fun to know. Not with how many of his children, his friends had all died before.
Even he himself had. He’d have to investigate Amity Park personally. Take the risk himself, to keep it from the others.
Tim and Duke could help, but they were both so busy with their own lives. He would have to wait and see.
His meeting with Clark and Diana hadn’t gone well either. They’d both been gratifyingly concerned with what he’d learned and had recognized the threat.
Clark had promised to keep an ear out for Jason, to listen in on his heartbeat and make sure he was okay. Bruce would have been grateful, if Clark hadn’t also told him that Jason’s heart was noticeably slow.
Easy to pick out, even if they hadn’t spent much time together.
Just how close was his boy to dying again?
Diana had advised caution. Wanted to speak to Danny herself, see the hero who had shouldered the burden of this small town. See if he had turned under the pressure.
Pressure that should never have been his. Pressure they should all have shared, protecting the child and the town together.
It would be his fault if Danny had broken. Had given in to whatever in the Infinite Realms had stolen a whole town away.
Bruce knew that with a leaden certainty, felt the weight of it settle in his chest. The same way he knew he was responsible for most of his rogues.
He could see the wisdom in letting Diana talk to the man first. She was wiser than most of the League, and a good judge of character. Even without her lasso, it was hard to lie to her.
But if what Constantine said was true, he didn’t want to tip their hand. Zatanna and Shazam had both agreed to attend tomorrow and give their own opinions.
They could afford to wait one night. Perhaps two, if Danny couldn’t be found tomorrow.
Just about the only thing Bruce wasn’t worried about was Danny running. If he had ill intentions, he wasn’t the sort to give in and disappear so easily.
He’d threatened Bruce to stay out of things between him and Jason. And certainly wasn’t afraid of a fight.
Bruce was also quite sure that he and Diana could take the boy if it came to it, even with the abilities Constantine ascribed to the realms. He would find a way.
But not tonight, he reminded himself firmly as he strode into the zeta tube. Tonight he would go home, update his children, and get some sleep.
Maybe waiting a day or two to speak to Danny directly would help. This concussion had passed frustrating and was beginning to affect his decision making.
Shaking his head to clear it, Bruce hit the button to send him home. Soon he could rest. At least for a little while.
**
A gentle buzzer went off in the cave and Tim yelped like he’d been stung, clutching at Tucker’s arm in an entirely unmanly way.
“SHIT he’s back hide the candy canes!”
Tucker stared at him wide eyed, but to his credit the other man didn’t hesitate to sweep the pile of different flavoured canes off the desk and into the front of his shirt.
“Where?!” He asked, and Tim hesitated for half an instant.
The zeta tube was down by the cars. Bruce would be up in less than a minute. Spinning Tucker by the shoulders, he shoved him towards the infirmary.
“Get in there! Don’t come out til I say!” He hissed, already hearing the zeta tube’s door whoosh open.
Tucker obediently scurried away, and thank fuck he was quick on the uptake enough to drop his voice below a whisper.
“What?! Tim, what?! Am I not supposed to fucking be here?!” He hissed, and Tim pulled the infirmary door almost shut before darting back to the table.
He’d cleared it with Bruce, had texted about giving their guests a tour, but since it turned out that Tucker hadn’t already been in the know… well, he wanted to prime Bruce with the good news first.
The tube only pinged once though, so Constantine hadn’t come back with him. That was probably good. Bruce would be less cranky.
Tim wasn’t exactly back in his seat by the time Bruce reached the batcomputer, but he was close enough to watch him note the second chair.
Tim didn’t let him ask.
“I have a first hand witness account of what happened in Amity Park.” That was the important thing, right? That they had answers.
Bruce stared at him for a long moment, eyes narrowed and the whiteouts narrowing with them. Tim stared him down, refusing to look away.
He’d fucked up just like, a tiny bit. But he’d gotten results. Better results than anyone else. So was it really a fuck up?
He watched Bruce’s eyes widen as he realized, and was a little surprised when the man’s shoulders slumped. He dropped gracelessly into the swivel chair, elbows propped on the table and his head cradled in his hands.
Tim was growing a little alarmed now, hurrying forward to Bruce’s side. Was he injured? Had something happened?
His hand was just reaching out to touch when Bruce sighed and sat back up.
“Tim. Who did you bring to tour the cave?” He asked in a tired, heavy voice, and Tim’s brows furrowed.
What? He’d said, hadn’t he?
“Tucker Foley?” He said cautiously, wondering if he should call Alfred. Maybe switch out Bruce and Tucker and get the big guy into the infirmary.
Bruce was very still. Tim forged ahead, hoping to get to the good news.
“He was a vigilante back in Amity Park, part of the support team. I have his statement going back to the beginning of the ghost attacks, and he’s already answered most of our questions.”
Leaning past Bruce, he hit a couple of keys and brought up the sound file of Tucker’s interview.
Bruce was still a little slow as he turned to look, but it seemed to hearten him. Which was when Tim realized.
“Wait. Who did you think I was bringing?” He asked, brows furrowing in confusion.
Bruce shot him a sidelong frown, pulling off his cowl.
“Not a stranger,” he growled, though his heart clearly wasn’t in it. He just sounded tired.
Tim carefully patted him on the shoulder, still thoroughly confused.
“What? But I said…” he paused, pulling out his phone and staring at the texts.
Nope. No he didn’t.
Oops.
Groaning, Tim let his head drop.
“Ah fuck, and I thought we were doing so well!” He sighed heavily and Bruce made a grunt that might have been a laugh. “Alfred’s going to be unbearable.”
That shut Bruce right up, as it should, and then Bruce sighed again. They were moving past it then. Probably for the best, since Alfred would lecture them both on the importance of communication later.
At least it wasn’t only Tim’s fault. The only person who wasn’t a stranger or a bat had been Harley, and he wasn’t actually sure if Harley had cave privileges.
Well. She did now. Since that was what Bruce must have thought he was asking.
Then Bruce straightened, eyes determined and steely.
“I have new information from Constantine. The risks of the Infinite Realms.” It definitely heartened him to talk about, skipping straight to the debrief part of the day.
Maybe they could just skip right over the Tim-fucked-up-and-brought-a-stranger-to-the-cave.
“I need you all to keep away from the Amity Parkers until I know more.”
Ah.
No then. Nope, not skipping over it, because Tucker was actively still fucking in the cave. It was for the best that they’d hidden him then.
Tim shook his head firmly, hoping that if he seemed certain that would help.
“That’s not gonna work, Bruce. I couldn’t have fixed our Watchtower problem without Tucker, and we can’t look at any of the Amity Park data without an Amity Park device.” It was the theory they’d been running with, but they’d had it confirmed now.
Never mind that Tucker had already downloaded most of what was publicly available for them. Bruce would always want a primary source anyway.
Tim pretended it didn’t affect him when Bruce’s head jerked, eyes narrowed as he scowled at Tim.
“You let him into the code for the Watchtower?!” He exclaimed in a hiss. Which was interesting, since Tim had kinda figured the bat cave thing would be more personal.
Then again, the Watchtower could compromise more than that.
“Bruce, read the report on Tucker. We literally couldn’t stop him if he wanted to hack in, because his tech runs on levels that slide right past ours. Tech he’s already sharing,” he added sharply, reaching behind him without looking to hook his laptop forwards.
Bruce, mouth already open to argue, quieted at once. Yeah, new toys always helped. Tim nodded to the batcomputer.
“The update’s ready to go live, but I waited because you need to see this. Open the third window,” he nodded over, pulling up the corresponding section of code on the laptop.
Bruce’s expression pinched but he did as requested, clearly not willing to put another step between himself and the answer. A quick glance up to confirm, and Tim nodded to himself.
Fuck, he needed a laser pointer.
“So it all looks good up there, right?” He pushed and Bruce frowned, but nodded, eyes scanning quickly across the screen.
“Is this your update?” He asked but Tim was already shaking his head, pushing his own laptop towards the man.
Bruce’s eyes widened at the glitching sections of code. Tim nodded, satisfied he’d gotten Tim’s point.
“Tucker Foley wrote me a program so that I could access this ghost code. In half an hour. From scratch,” he added for emphasis, and yeah, he could already hear the lecture about “compromised tech”.
He tried to shut that one off too, pointing up at the screens.
“That? That’s apparently the work of a ghost. One called Technus, who likes to possess technology, and now Tucker and I are going through every line of the Watchtower’s code looking for changes.”
Bruce’s lips thinned to a tense line and he gave a short, harsh nod. He very obviously didn’t like it, but the presence of a bigger threat did wonders for calming him down.
Tim patted his laptop.
“We’re waiting on you to upgrade the batcomputer, but we’re gonna need to check every program on that too. Everything, Bruce. These ghosts could have been rewriting everything. And we’d never know if I hadn’t asked Tuck to help me with the Watchtower.”
Honestly, Tim was just hoping none of their rogues had made any ghostly connections. The implications made his head spin, but he stubbornly kept himself on track.
They needed Tucker’s help. Never mind that the ghosts themselves were reportedly allergic to subtlety and would always go big over going home; that was a tendency, not a guarantee.
Hell, if Tim had a say, he’d get Tucker’s upgrades for the ghost code, improved firewalls, and Danny’s ectoplasm into all his own gear by tomorrow.
He wasn’t going to, Bruce’s paranoia being what it was, but he was already uploading Tucker’s program to his suit’s wrist computer. It wasn’t like there’d be any hidden malware.
Tim had watched over his shoulder as Tucker wrote it, direct on the PDA. And watching him work had been… it was just…
He so rarely got to talk to anyone that was actually on his level. Rarer still that they weren’t a direct member of the family.
And Tucker, for all he currently had a tech advantage? He’d invented that advantage himself. All on his own, he was incredible. Maybe even better with some aspects of software than Tim himself.
The things they could do together… even the internship was pretty much a formality at this point. Just get Tuck through college and see if he’d accept a job at WE.
Hell, if he wanted to found his own company Tim would invest. That kind of brilliance deserved everything it needed to grow.
He had to wrench himself back to the present moment, the “introduce new genius to Batman” step still looming large, but honestly? Tim wasn’t worried. Bruce would see the potential.
Here and now Bruce’s gaze had gone distant, and Tim could easily have kept going, but he stayed quiet. Let the man absorb new information, stop and think.
And if he still wanted to make dumbass decisions, well, Tim could argue with him literally all night. They’d all picked up Bruce’s stubbornness too.
**
It was hard to focus on the screen through the throbbing of his head, the lights too bright even at their lowest setting. He’d checked.
Luckily, it was an issue he’d been dealing with for years, and Bruce pushed it aside with the resigned acceptance of long practice.
He’d pay for it later. That night of sleep was probably going to be a day of sleep at this rate, but he’d get at least six hours. More if Alfred caught him.
For now… Tim felt very strongly about this. Had good reason to, if he was even half right about the scope of the problem, or Tucker’s uses as a solution.
After hearing from one member of the Justice League Dark, Bruce was desperately hoping Tim was right. They sorely needed an ally, one they could trust to guide them through these dangerous waters.
Of course, Fenton and Foley were close. That may skew his judgement, but it could be accounted for. Wasn’t worth more than an ally whose skillset Bruce understood, and could trust.
Tucker Foley was a tech expert, which put him above any occult master in Bruce’s book. Magic had no rules, not that could be relied on, and Bruce wouldn’t touch it if he didn’t have to.
And Tucker’s tech would work with his own.
There’d be a review period of course. He’d have to meet Tucker himself, speak to him a little, get a sense of the man. See how far his opinions would be based in fact, not feeling.
Tim’s vouch was a good first step. As little as Bruce liked that Tim had brought an outsider down to the lab. And then let him use Tim’s computer.
And honestly, it certainly wasn’t Tim’s fault that Bruce hadn’t asked. He’d been lax, not checked properly, and it was that damned concussion slowing him down.
He needed sleep. His thinking was dangerously clouded. But one thing was always true: he trusted Tim’s judgement. Probably more than he trusted his own at the moment.
They could review the situation in the morning, come up with some suitable punishment and protocol to introduce new vigilantes to the cave (which they’d never needed, because other heroes usually came through the League and were already vetted).
A thought struck and Bruce almost smiled. It would be a fitting solution on three separate sides. Maybe the punishment would be easy after all.
“Alright. I’ll need to speak to Foley first. And you will be writing out fresh protocols to address when a new hero but not a league member can be introduced to the cave,” he added, and Tim groaned loudly.
Bruce ignored him. That was just the start of his troubles.
“You will also be responsible for running John Constantine through the full reporting system, and updating the training materials so this doesn’t happen again.” It was a weight off his shoulders, really.
And a fitting punishment, because Tim would definitely think twice before pulling this stunt again. The man himself threw both his hands into the air.
“What?! Bruce! You said you fixed it!” He whined, and Bruce resisted the urge to smile.
“And I fixed Amity Park. But I highly doubt this was his only error, so the two of you will have to review every case he’s reported on before you go back on patrol.”
It was probably several hundred since they’d had the new system alone. Tim groaned like Bruce was sucking the soul from his body.
Bruce levelled him with a stern look.
“I take the secrecy of the cave seriously, Red Robin. This will not happen again.”
“Because I’m gonna die of old age sitting at a desk with Constantine,” Tim grumbled, folding his arms and scowling.
It wasn’t even something he could write a program to fudge for him; every case would need Constantine’s personal input to be sure it was filed correctly.
Bruce was quite pleased with this solution. But he made sure to hide the smile from Tim, who wouldn’t appreciate it right now.
“Tucker Foley may end up working out for us all, but that’s no guarantee a future mistake won’t be fatal. And Tim…” even if it was a formality at this point, he had to ask. “Do you trust him?”
The answer was obvious, this was Tim’s personal laptop, this was the Bat Cave, and as expected Tim nodded immediately, the sulk from his punishment vanishing.
“He’s a good guy. He’s even made a clean set of Amity Park data you can look through until Danny fixes the batcomputer.”
Ah. And there was the problem. With a solution wrapped around it though, so Bruce focused on the cleaned set of data.
If Tucker was anything like Tim, it’d be extensive enough to keep him busy until the Justice League came to a decision.
Until he could speak to Danny. Speak to Jason.
He was so tired.
Bruce nodded, leaning back in his seat.
“Alright. Tucker Foley is exempted, but I need you and the others to stay away from the rest, and particularly Danny Fenton until the League has made a decision.”
It was just a little heart breaking watching Tim’s face fall from hope and happiness straight back into worry.
“But Bruce… he’s helping Jason with the pit, he might need to see him,” he argued, arms folding again.
Bruce shook his head. That was exactly what he was afraid of.
“I know… and I know how Jason feels about following orders. I’ll tell him myself, tonight.” Luckily he was still in the batsuit, if not the cowl.
Raising his wrist to his face, Bruce activated his secondary comm on the group channel. He’d turned both off when his children headed out, fully aware Oracle would override it if they needed him.
He didn’t need to be distracted by the noises of a normal night.
“Everyone, return to the cave before heading in please. There have been developments I need to update you on.” Nothing to worry them, but hopefully interesting enough that Jason would still drop in.
No talk of protocols or anything. No, that was Tim’s future.
Tim, who was looking at him oddly.
“Who told you Jason went out tonight?” He asked, and Bruce frowned. Looked up at the batcomputer, and realized that the tracker screen wasn’t open.
That could be a problem.
“Didn’t he?” He asked, really not looking forward to asking Dick to ask Jason to drop by tonight. If Jason was actually home, actually sleeping…
But Tim shook his head, that odd expression still on his face.
“He never said he would, but he called in after taking Danny home. He’s out with Black Bat,” Tim added, and Bruce frowned.
Why even bring it up if Jason was out? What did it matter?
Tim, clearly seeing and understanding his confusion, groaned and tugged at his hair.
“Bruce. Please, just… listen to me. Danny isn’t the threat here. He’s been nothing but helpful. He’s the one who picked up the ball when the League dropped it, who dealt with all the ghosts we can’t. He saved that town-”
“We don’t know that, Tim,” Bruce cut him off, shaking his head sharply. “We can’t take that risk.”
He could see Tim getting frustrated, temper flaring, and in an odd way, it made him feel better. Calm. In control.
“Bruce, you stubborn… so what? We just tell Jason to keep away from the only person who makes him feel better?” Tim asked sarcastically, and Bruce could see exactly how he’d missed the point.
This was what he’d have to watch for with Tucker Foley. But the technical advantages would be worth it.
“We don’t know that he’s making the pits better,” Bruce said darkly, and fuck it felt good to even voice the thought aloud.
Made it feel real, less like paranoia.
Tim gaped at him, but didn’t argue.
Bruce raised a hand, counting the points off on his fingers.
One.
“None of us heard anything about him a week ago. Not even a few days. Fenton has been here over a year and only just ran into Jason?” It wasn’t possible.
It didn’t make sense. Gotham was a large city, sure, but for two people apparently so closely linked? No.
A second finger rose.
“Danny himself claims that he is helping with the pits.”
“Jason agrees,” Tim cut in, clearly looking to break his train of thought. Bruce silenced him with a stern glare.
“Danny claims he is helping with the pits. Jason claims to have noticed the same thing, but we already know the pits affect his mind. He may not understand what’s being done to him.”
That? That made perfect sense. The pits had driven Jason into those uncontrollable rages, made him do things he’d never have wanted to.
Who was to say they couldn’t have a more subtle influence? More dangerous? More like Ra’s himself.
Even Tim couldn’t argue with that, and Bruce nodded his satisfaction at the boy’s silence, raising a third finger. This… he wasn’t looking forward to this one.
But its weight had been sitting in his chest since the possibility came up, and he didn’t want to hide anything from his boys. They deserved to know the risks.
No matter how much he’d rather protect them from it.
“The little f… Constantine believes there is a chance that even being close to Danny may have dangerous side effects for Jason, purely accidentally.”
Tim’s eyebrow rose at the aborted description, and Bruce was glad he’d clamped down on it. Couldn’t quite meet the boy’s eye as he continued to explain.
“Danny’s connection to… his death,” the words were hard to even speak, another child lost, “is what gives him his power. It’s strong, and may have radiating effects Danny doesn’t even know about.”
Because that was kind of the worst part. There was a chance that Danny truly meant everything he’d said in earnest. That he was Jason’s friend, wanted to protect him.
Wanted to help Jason come back to himself and be free of the pit rage. That they did truly care for each other, and wanted to make each other better.
And none of those good intentions would matter if Danny’s mere presence risked Jason’s soul.
He could see Tim realizing it too, eyes widening and the aggression slumping from his shoulders. But he’d decided to be honest.
Clear, open communication. They could try.
“The way Jason came back… we still don’t know how it happened, or why. But anything half living and half dead can have side effects on the world around them, especially for those who have already died.”
Danny might be here to take Jason away. Back to the dead.
He’d meant to say the words, to lay it bare, but in the end he choked on them. Couldn’t even face the thought.
Tomorrow. After he slept. If they still needed convincing, he’d try again tomorrow. Which did neatly bring them to point number four.
Steeling himself, Bruce shifted his gaze back to Tim, raising his pinky finger.
“And if you are right, if Danny really is helping… it’ll only be for a few days. I meet with the League tomorrow. Zatanna and Shazam will both be there to give their opinions.”
Suddenly Bruce just felt tired. Tired of arguing, trying to make people see things his way. All he wanted was a couple of days. Just to be sure. Just to be safe.
Tim raised an eyebrow again, shifting slowly to lean against the other chair.
“Then why will it be a few days? Why not tomorrow?” He asked cautiously and Bruce chuckled.
Of course Tim knew him well enough to know there would be something else.
“I’d like to talk to him myself first. Perhaps have them meet him directly. Just to be sure what his intentions are in the city.”
“And with Jason,” Tim put in flatly. Bruce just nodded. The boy was right.
“With the city and with Jason,” he agreed, looking back up at the large screens of the batcomputer.
Pulled up the location tracker for his bats and birds, watching their little trails of light run across the city. He wouldn’t let any of those lights wink out.
Tim sighed and shook his head, coming to lean against the back of Bruce’s chair instead. Not quite tall enough to rest his chin on the top of Bruce’s head, and not likely to grow much more at nineteen.
“I still think it’s a bad idea,” he said bluntly, eyes tracking the Red Hood dot in particular. “You’ll only push Jason further away by trying to control who he sees.”
Bruce shook his head, leaning back just a little more into the presence of his son.
“I don’t care if Jason hates me for the rest of his life, so long as it’s a long and healthy one,” he said softly, and Tim snorted.
Pushed away from the chair, and for a moment the distance ached.
“Yeah, well. When it blows up in your face, I told you so. Did you wanna see Tucker tonight or tomorrow?” He asked, and Bruce’s head snapped suddenly around, scanning the cave.
“He’s still here?”
**
Shaking his head, Tim made his way across the cave to the infirmary, pulling out his phone where Bruce couldn’t see it. He shot off a quick text, not looking down.
‘J. Don’t come back to cave. B has mega bitch face just let him cool down’
**
Across the city, the message flashed in the corner of Red Hood’s helmet visor. Groaning to himself, Hood kicked a goon’s gun into Gotham bay and waved to Black Bat.
“You good? I gotta send a text.” He called, deeply offending the eight goons still standing, armed with knives and fucking pipes, and tussling with Black Bat.
Which only got worse when she shot him a quick thumbs up, sat on a particularly tall goon’s shoulders before throwing herself back so far the guy toppled, twisting them in the air so she still somehow wound up on top.
Hood nodded, pulling out his phone one handed.
“Hey! You can’t just text! We’re not done!” A goon protested, rushing in at Red Hood.
Who pulled his gun and shot him in both kneecaps, sending him sprawling to the slick planks of the dock.
This was why he always took out their shooters first. Batman could preach hand to hand all he liked, it was way safer when the bad guys had holes in their hands and no guns.
“Anyone else?” Hood asked rhetorically, pointing the last gun on the dock at the remaining goons in turn. In unison, all six focused their attention solely on Black Bat.
Not because they thought they’d win, but well. She didn’t have a fucking gun.
“Yeah, thought so,” Hood grumbled, sending a quick message back to Tim.
Paused to take a picture when Black Bat actually got three heads at once into a leg lock, because that had to be a record.
‘Is it to do with your big fuck up?’ Cuz honestly, what else could B be pissed about?
The answer came back though, fast and weird.
‘As hard as I also find it to believe this, no. Magician’s got him all twisted around about Phantom. Wants to forbid us all from seeing him.’
The phone creaked in Jason’s grip as he read the last words, a low rumbling growl spilling from low in his chest.
The remaining standing goons whipped around and exchanged startled looks.
That. That definitely wasn’t fucking good. No way.
Black Bat took another to floor as they paused, and the last three fled. Didn’t quite make it to the door.
Jason didn’t notice until her hand landed gently on his shoulder, concern radiating off her. His head whipped round, and he was suddenly glad the full helmet covered his face.
Couldn’t see the way he fucking snarled at her.
Black Bat didn’t move, her head cocked to one side as she regarded him.
“Eyes. Glowing,” she told him carefully, reaching up to touch the side of his helmet.
Jason jerked back in shock, but he could already feel the green rushing away. Receding until his vision purely his own again.
He hadn’t even noticed the green haze.
Black Bat inspected him again, then nodded, going on tiptoes to pat him on top of the head.
“What’s wrong?”
Red Hood sucked in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to recenter. He’d never felt the rage come on that fast, from nothing to all consuming before he even felt it.
Even thinking of the messages made angry green tides again.
We will not be kept from the King!
And it was talking to him again. Lovely. Why couldn’t that part have been his imagination?
Shaking his head, he focused on Black Bat’s question instead.
“Just B bein’ an asshole again. I’m gonna pass on the cave tonight, tell him I went to bed.” It was about as much as he thought he could talk about it without screaming.
Almost forgot that Black Bat could read him too, her aura still soothing and open to him as she nodded. Rested a hand gently on his shoulder.
“Go now. Rest,” she told him firmly, turning back to the downed and groaning goons.
Red Hood hesitated, looking around the dock. It was getting early, nearly time to turn in anyway, and they were done here. Just a routine drug shipment.
The last lot too dense to be cowed by the mood on the streets, or counting on the hour to mean the bats went to bed. Cuz that went so well for them.
He nodded and moved to help her, flipping the biggest goon over and zip tying his wrists to his elbows, and then his ankles.
“After I help you wrap your presents,” he agreed, heard Black Bat let out a soft huff of laughter.
One of the still conscious goons shot him a glare.
“Y’could at least pretend to take us seriously,” she grumbled, then yelped as one of her fellow goons kicked her in the shins.
Clear message: do not push the crazy bat.
Red Hood snorted.
“I’ll take you seriously when you’ve fuckin’ earned it,” he told her, going for the next biggest body.
Black Bat could take every one of them out of the fight, but bagging and tagging a dead weight was much less fun for her. He could handle that part before turning in.
He had a big day tomorrow.
**
Private Chat: DannyP & TooFine
4:30am
‘TooFine: dude Tim just shoved me in a closet I don’t think Batman knows I’m here?????’
‘TooFine: dude’
‘TooFine: dude wake tf up I might need emergency evac 🚨🚨’
4:35am
‘TooFine: that fucking Constantine guy’s put a bug in Batman’s ass’
‘TooFine: told u we shoulda hunted him down 😤’
‘TooFine: and after all I did to help!! Ungrateful bat!!’
4:46am
‘TooFine: okay Batman fucking hates u specifically ur screwed 😳’
‘TooFine: I’m good tho 😇’
‘TooFine: I think he likes me now 😏’
‘TooFine: he wants all my sweet tech upgrades’
‘TooFine: they’re gonna let me play on the batcomputer!!! 😳😳😳’
5am
‘TooFine: u are missing vital updates bitch’
‘TooFine: he’s gonna fucking ground Jason from hanging out with u’
‘TooFine: AH SHIT HE KNOWS IM HERE ABORT ABORT ABORT’
8am
‘TooFine: u may have been right going to bed early man this shit sucks’
‘TooFine: didn’t even get to see what happened’
‘TooFine: they sent me to bed like a naughty child! 😤’
‘TooFine: I’m changing all his ring tones to Funky Town’
10:59am
‘DannyP: okay miette’
11:02am
‘HalfBitch: OKAY IM SORRY TUCKER AT LEAST TAKE THE MAGIC MIKE THEME OFF’
——————————
Next Chapter:
Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778
#dp x dc#danny fenton dead and loving it#dead on main ship#jason x danny#danny x jason#one fine day in the middle of the night#still no smooches here tho#just bat angst and softness#chapter 13#unlucky 13 cuz i forget the number exists
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Cat stats: entirety of 2022 edition!
shut up no im not late youre late .
Note: I double checked and literally All of that writing was in belarusian! Despite the fact that I switched how i was tracking this halfway through! So technically that's 114 hours and 8 minutes. Pretty close to russian, actually!
Marathi has so many simply because at the start of the year, I was still trying to get a handle on actually like... reading. I'm decent at that now! But currently I'm not at any sort of level where I can talk or really read or anything, haha.
(Apparently tumblr doesnt like readmores when you have an image id. Hoping this doesnt somehow ruin the formatting!)
So, starting with ukrainian; as of today I have four skills to complete to finish the duolingo course! So I think that's at least like, 12 more days? Or something? After that I'm going to go back through to make everything legendary, so I suspect in total I will have spent at least a year on it. So that's... something. Lingq is the only thing holding my reading comprehension together right now I think 😂
For marathi, I'm honestly just curious how much better I'll be by the end of this year! Maybe my goal should be like, 'read sentences' or something lol. I've long since come to terms with the fact that I just Don't learn fast at all... :)
Russian is currently sitting on the backburner, so maybe I'm a little bit better, maybe I'm not. For now, though, I'll try to stick with it and see where that takes me! I'm happy with the fact that I finally made it through duolingo, and hopefully never have to go back again, haha
Belarusian: my one true love, light of my life, So Fucking Hard to find resources for. Anyways.
You may have seen I did nanowrimo in belarusian this year! I wrote a Lot, relatively, and have written exactly one thing in belarusian since. Such is the way of nano burnout... (but actually, I'm just procrastinating.)
I haven't decided yet whether I really want to post what I did or not, so currently the file is just sitting on my phone, waiting to be transferred so I can fix typos and stuff. It's probably going to stay like that for a while.
In other news, while I did want to start usong polygloss more, I've made a fatal mistake in constantly forgetting to reply to people, so now I think the total of 3 other people on there are ignoring me. Or just not using the app anymore, one of the two. ...in light of this, I am not using polygloss for belarusian currently. #r.i.p. my dreams.
I haven't really thought much about what I want to do this year... write more, at least. I'm definitely going to try nanowrimo again, when it comes around. I'd love to start getting more listening and reading in, but I don't go on youtube much, and as far as I can tell, most anybody who's posting in belarusian is on twitter. My twitter account has been dead since 2018 (or something) and it is going to Stay that way. As far as actual books go, eh... it's a bit harder to get my hands on anything, haha. If you happen to have reccomendations, I'm all ears... :P
(Yes there is also The Tiktok™️ but that, too, has the affliction of No Fucking Subtitles and is also a hellscape just generally, so... no.)
It's also still early in the year, so it's really anyone's guess how things are gonna end up! But that's where having simple goals comes in handy XD
In short...
Ukrainian: finish duolingo course, ???
Marathi: be able to sort of read, maybe
Russian: Who The Fuck Knows, better grammar (impossible for me and yet)
Belarusian: Know Everything Better, write... more comprehensively? write my langblr posts in belarusian, maybe?
#alt text#small text#long post#langblr#learning languages#languages#russian langblr#belarusian langblr#marathi langblr#stats for cats
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xKIT PART 3: EDITABLE REBLOGS (now known as Trim Trail Items)
So, for this example, I'm going to be using a few friends' posts that I've seen go wonky (their text and images will be blurred, it's simply for example purposes) to show you some little errors that don't happen in comparison to the new version of xKit.
Now, I'm someone who is newer to xKit, but I've used both versions.
*There is no preferences section, which is why it's not included.
Part 1 || Part 2
EDITABLE REBLOGS (because that's what us roleplayers really want, let's be honest.)
HOLD ON--PANIC MODE! I CAN'T FIND THE REBLOG EDITOR!
First of all--take a breath. Cutting posts is easier, but it's located in a different spot.
Step 1 is to enable the beta editor on Tumblr.
If this is what your editor looks like, then you are currently still on the legacy editor. You absolutely need to switch to the Beta Editor. If you're not sure how to do that:
Looking in the upper right hand corner of your browser, you will see the toggle for your beta editor. Make sure you don't have a post in there. It will absolutely wipe whatever content you have in there. Save it to something else and you should be able to paste it back in, though you may have to contend with fixing a little formatting.
Most keyboard shortcuts still work in this editor, and for the most part, it appears the same as the legacy editor. You have your title, your blog dropdown, your option to add cuts/readmore, music, links, all of that. Some options, like changing to indented, bulleted lists, numbered lists, or bigger text are found when you select a block of text. This is the same way that it functions on the mobile editor.
FUN FACT: Ever resize your window and have your entire post disappear because it switched editors? This is because the "mobile" version of Tumblr uses the Beta Editor as its DEFAULT EDITOR. When you resize your browser window down, it detects the resolution of your browser, and will automatically switch to a more mobile-friendly (or reduced screen size) view for you. If you're using the beta editor, you can resize all you like, and you won't lose your posts!
Now, let's see what the Editable Reblogs actually look like now.
The posts above are all from DASH VIEW (or blog view, in this specific case -- as I was viewing one of my dud blogs. I was going to rename this blog, but I don't play to play this character, so I'll leave the blog up for people to actually view and see how it works. Panicking because you forgot to cut your draft? Don't-- you can cut right from the dash, too. Look for the little scissors!
This portion is actually from drafts. What it effectively done is just "removes old trail items" -- meaning that it removes everything BUT the last item. See that cute little scissors icon? THAT'S IT. THAT'S YOUR EDITABLE REBLOG. THAT'S HOW YOU CUT. You click that cute little scissors icon, and bam. THAT. IS. IT.
No backspacing.
No fucking up when you delete too much. (been there, done that.)
No fucked up formatting for your friends who use icons looking weird among the indents.
It preserves it. It preserves the new formatting. It does not accidentally post your drafts when you go to save the draft. THEY STAY.
*one small issue I have noticed is that you need to cut BEFORE you post. It was giving me issues before, but it's possible that the issue has been fixed. It did not appear to cause an issue in these drafts but be forewarned about it. Just hit cut before you edit the draft! Remember - draft, cut, write. DRAFT, CUT, WRITE. DCR. DRAFT CUT WRITE.
SO WHAT DO THEY ACTUALLY LOOK LIKE?
Let's remember for a second what the old cut reblogs look like... and what funky things happened to them.
Now, let's look at something in the new post editor. Here's what a post with some images looks like that's saved in my drafts:
Here's what it looks like after we've cut it. Note that the new xKit version does not, in any way, alter the actual FORMATTING of the original post. This is what the legacy editor does; it changes the formatting of the post, which is why you get all kinds of weird issues like images making your first paragraph indented and no matter how many times you mess with it, it just doesn't work. You don't have to remove images from your partners' posts so the formatting works, because there's nothing being changed with the formatting in the first place.
THE FINAL STEP: MY OLD REPLIES ARE STILL IN THE LEGACY EDITOR. WHAT DO I DO????
Sometimes, you may run into the issue where, in attempting to cut, it will tell you that legacy posts cannot be cut/altered from your drafts. There's two workarounds to this.
Workaround #1: REPOST IT! This one is the simplest. Take your last reply, copy it into a new post, and start again from there. The same way you might when moving asks to a new post if someone didn't already make a new post from it.
Workaround #2: Edit from the mobile app. Note that I specified the mobile app; this is the only way I've found that works for me. I went into my original post (meaning the VERY FIRST POST OF THE REBLOG CHAIN -- so the very first post you posted to start that thread), edited it from the mobile app (iphone, ipad, android phone or tablet, whatever fits your fancy) and just changed something small--bold a word, italicize a word, change a punctuation, something that made the post fundamentally different.
This pseudo-forced it into the new post format, and from there, I was able to cut. Posts made in-between that were edited with old xKit won't matter--they'll just stay as they were, and you don't have to touch them. Only the first post of the thread matters in this case.
REGARDING USERS USING OLD XKIT:
Please note, if you're still using the old xKit for editable reblogs, but your partner is using the new one, they will not be able to cut your posts. The old xKit outright changes the reblog structure and puts their old reply as part of your new reply, while removing EVERY old trail item including their old one (and it appears as nothing more than indented text in your response). As a result, there's nothing to actually cut for the new xKit, so your partners won't be able to cut. You need to be aware of this if you've decided not to make the transition. Don't go bitching to your mutuals for not cutting their posts when they are using the new version and you're still on the old one. Either run both if you're still going to use an old, glitchy addon, or switch entirely. Otherwise, deal with it.
#xkit for roleplay#it's less complicated than you think#it'll take a touch of a learning curve#but you won't be scrambling when the legacy editor is nuked#this has more than my other psa but i added images to make life better#huge shoutout to the friend(s) whose posts i am able to cut with xkit for visual purposes for this!
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When do you usually do most of your writing?
Pet peeves?
What is on your wishlist?
When do you usually do most of your writing?
I wake up very late because I have no self control and a really messed up sleeping schedule, so I do the writing from 1 pm onward, generally speaking.
Then again, I have spent more than one day doing nothing but typing away on my keyboard for this account, so... Yeah.
I'd like to say I do most of it during the daytime, but it depends: if a thread I like gets a reply at 2 am (which happens a lot because everyone seems to be living in the Americas?) you can bet I'll be typing a reply as soon as I get the notification (though I almost never post them right away, since I'm anxious about spelling, syntax and so on).
It might be that I'm new to the scene and that I'm a situation in which I have little else to do, but I get really excited whenever I get a reply or an ask and will jump at the chance to start interacting with new people- which is sadly kind of hard because of how unpopular GX seems to be among the RPC. People have still been very nice to me and have been very open to testing out interactions, which I'm deeply grateful for.
I am wagging my nonexistent tail of all of you, constantly.
On a separate note, I do the fic writing after midnight. Always. And I hate it.
Pet peeves?
... Oof. Ok. I'll take my chance to say a bunch of things? Don't hate me for it, I don't mind any of these that much.
1) I kind of dislike writing in present tense, mostly because I find it unnatural, but I will when the other person does. I'm the opposite of picky- and it isn't necessarily a good thing.
2) Fancy formatting. It's one thing to use small text, that I don't mind one bit. But when fonts and random highlighted words are involved I get very confused? I know I use italics for emphasis and for things that are meant to be internal monologue that isn't narrated, but rather delivered by the muse himself- maybe that's annoying or distracting to someone? I bet someone out there has looked at a reply of mine and wanted to delete the post in my stead at some point.
3) Heavily edited icons. Again, icons or not, it technically doesn't make much of a difference. I personally have taken a liking to keeping my Manjoume icon folder open on my second screen- plus I'm Italian. Come on. Half my communication skills are non verbal I'm lying I suck at communicating in general.
The edited icons, yes- a frame and coloured filter make icons look personal and I appreciate the work put into them, but when I can barely make out the expression I have to wonder what the point is. Aesthetics, I suppose, which is fine, of course.
4) Tumblr themes. Some themes don't allow for reblogs when you open posts on the op's blog. WHY. It's sort of annoying to have to fish for the post in order to reply to it.
5) Endless threads. Very few do this, but I think you should consider that people who are not involved in a given thread will have to scroll through it on their dashes before you reblog a thread without cropping it. That's all. I didn't know how to do it initially, but I asked and I was lucky enough to get an answer from a very kind person.
6) ... Grammar. Typos are fine and dandy. Sometimes they happen and you can't notice them because some words exist and thus are not highlighted by the spellchecker (which is on everyone's chrome, by the way). An example is 'fir' and 'for'. I can assure you there is no red squiggle under 'fir'. It's a tree, apparently. I had no clue.
But yes, I am not from an English speaking country, so don't take this as like... a British dude coming up to you and bullying you because your English is bad. No. A misplaced comma is ok, I don't care. It becomes a problem when the sentences are hard to understand. That's it.
(Note- if I write something that you think is an incomprehensible mess, tell me and I'll try my best to fix it.)
... I'm done. I am not angry at anyone who does any of these, believe me.
Pet peeve number seven is a request. DM me for literally anything. If I do something wrong, tell me. I write a lot of extra tags to convey how I feel about what has been written and maybe it's unnecessary, but I do it so you can always know that I'm actively invested in the interaction. If I don't add tags it's solely because there is nothing to add. But if it's annoying, tell me and I'll stop immediately. That is all.
What is on your wishlist?
... This.
How very unexpected, I know.
A bunch of other things, too: I have some Jojo prints in my cart on Etsy and I know I'll never get them (sad) and a bunch of videogames on Steam and the Nintendo e-shop (which I'll never buy or play- they look neat though). On Amazon I have the last few volumes of the DM manga and the GX series (Light and Darkness Dragon, my beloved). Also also any charm that has to do with Manjoume. I haven't found any I could buy, but I want 'em all. Literally break into my house if you find one.
Ah! And the matching figures of Komaeda and Hinata from Danganronpa 2! (Big Danganronpa fan, bigger Komahina shipper- I've made a fucking animatic and I can't post it because the music is copyrighted ;) )
I also have a bunch of zines I'm waiting for- some I've bought and are about to be sent out and others have only posted interest checks. 2021 was the year in which I discovered that yes, I can commission people and buy zines and it doesn't need to a big event (except I'm not rich and need to be mindful with spending of course).
... I also really want the new Pokemon games. Like right now.
... If it turns out the question wasn't actually about like... material things, but rather what I want to do with my blog and muse in the future...
Well, first of all pretend I said nothing. Second, I want to find an art style I can comfortably use to make more frequent illustrations for threads and asks.
I was a big fan of ask blogs as a kid (I saw them through crust screenshots and reposts only, I didn't have a tumblr lol) and I always wanted to be that cool artist that makes cool art for a given cool character. Manjoume is the coolest of characters to me, so yeah.
#(( i've written too much on the pet peeves watch me shake from anxiety for a week straight#(( but i also want to be honest so yeah there#(( it would be hypocritical to say that i love everything always#(( i want to buy a shitton of things for someone who doesn't have a job huh#(( maybe i'll try to get commissions to afford stuff... when i git gud#(( stan manjoume always#// asks#// ulri's corner#// ooc
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Healing - Levi x Reader
Fandom: Attack on Titan
Word Count: 1813
My Masterlist
Warnings/disclaim: general
Modern/Office-like AU.
Mentions of depression, in case anyone is triggered/sensitive to this topic
Author’s Note:
Originally posted on DeviantArt, under the same username, on 12/03/2016. Revamped/edited in 2020.
___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer
Written in 3rd person
Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting.
Story under cut
Petra was picking papers off of ___’s desk, getting ready to fax them to her.
“Morning, Levi.”
“Morning Petra, where is ___?”
“She called off, but will work from home starting tomorrow.” Levi knitted his eyebrows together. “I know, she’s never called off. I don’t know what happened, though. She said she’d likely be gone all week and would like the form to start working from home. So if you have anything you need her to do, you can give me the paperwork so I can fax it to her.”
“We were supposed to have accounts meeting tomorrow,” Levi grumbled.
“I can give her a call, to see when she can reschedule.” Levi nodded before leaving Petra to her work.
Levi sighed as he signed papers, that ___ should be looking over. Petra, his assistant, had let him know about how ___ would like to work from home from now on. He could barely process the thoughts of it and why she didn’t want to come in anymore. It was an option that the company had, but she had never shown interest in it. What was with this sudden change, she didn’t even talk to him about it. Petra knocked at his door, he told her to enter.
“Sir, ___ sent back all of her numbers and let you know everything about the accounts through email. She also wanted me to tell you. ‘The best accountant in your office isn’t going to leave, but I need to be alone for a bit. I apologize for any inconvenience.’ That’s all she had said, but it seems like she got her work done faster than usual. So I think this may be a good thing.” Petra smiled at Levi.
“Get me her contact information.” She gave him a confused look. “I’m going to visit her on my way home. I need to know why she wants to change everything and I have some papers I need her to sign.”
“Yes, sir.” Petra came back in a few moments with the information he requested. “I also wrote where her spare key is, in case she can’t hear you at the door.”
“Why do you know where it is?”
“I’ve had to go pick up some things from her when she had scheduled days off. She’s in her backyard a lot, so she doesn’t hear the door.” Levi clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Is there anything else that you may need Mr. Ackerman?” His assistant smiled at him.
“Do you have any idea why she’s doing this?”
“No, sir. Last we talked about anything personal; her family was healthy and her fiance was looking into a house for them.”
“I didn’t know she was engaged.”
“Oh yeah. She’s been with him for about 5 years.”
“Oh,” Levi said with a bit of pain in his voice.
“Sir, don’t feel bad! I know you flirted with her a lot, but I thought you knew she was taken. And you were just teasing her. Like you did in high school with a couple of girls.”
“It makes sense why she always declined me.” Levi sighed and looked down at the papers on his desk.
“She always said that she loved your persistence and confidence. That if she wasn’t taken, she would take up your offers for dates. Sir, I still think you should go check on her.”
“You do?” Petra smiled and nodded.
Levi pulled up to ___’s house, with his briefcase in hand, he went to knock on her door. After a few moments of silence, he knocked again. He sighed and moved the potted plant on her porch, removing a brick from the house, which was hollowed out with the spare key inside. He quickly unlocked the door and put the key back. Walking inside, he was a bit impressed by how she had styled home and more importantly how clean everything was.
“Ms. ___?” Levi called out, which was answered with a bark and a husky came bounding around the corner to growl at him. “Hey, you must be Tobi.” He kneeled slightly and held out his hand for the dog to sniff him. Tobi seemed to approve as he turned to walk away from Levi, Levi followed him.
Tobi led Levi to the backyard, once ___ was in sight, Tobi ran over to the edge of the pool and started whining at ___. She was floating on her back in her bikini, which made Levi blush a bit. He had never seen her outside of suits or jeans.
“Tobi! Shush, baby.” The dog whined louder. “I’ll drag you into the pool, don’t make me do it.” She giggled, Tobi yelped at her. “That’s it!” She laughed while fixing her into a standing position but froze when she saw Levi. Her face went aflame as if some tossed red paint on her face.
“Mr. Ackerman!” She swam up to the edge of the pool, quickly walked over to her patio, and wrapped her towel around herself. Levi eyed her body the whole time, enjoying the view as she did so.
“Hello, Ms. ___. I need you to sign some papers, mainly some new accounts, and the form for you to start doing work from home.” Levi made his normal blank stare.
“Oh, of course! Let me guide you to my office and I’ll change.” Levi gave her a curt nod and she walked back into the house, Tobi walking beside her the whole time. Almost to her office, Levi noticed a room, empty and messy, catching his attention, because of the mess inside.
“What happened there?” ___ paused for a moment before walking over and closing the door.
“Please ignore that room.” Levi decided to ask after he got the signatures. She opened her office door. “Please make yourself comfortable. I’ll be a few moments.” Tobi followed after her as she left. Levi placed his briefcase on her desk and looked over to an accent piece that had pictures on it, noticing one face down. Curious, he walked over picking up the picture, to see ___ in a cute sundress and a guy hugging her from behind. It was very endearing but it only hurt his heart. ___ took the photo out of his hand.
“Please do not touch my photos.” She placed it back down, making sure it was face down.
“Why is that one picture face down?” Levi raised an eyebrow at her as she walked over to her desk and sat down.
“Sir, you wanted me to sign papers. I do not want to share my personal life with you.” ___ stated coldly, it wasn’t the first time she told him this. This time was different, though, her eyes were sad. “Please sit, so we may get the papers done.”
Levi walked over and opened his briefcase, handing her a folder. “These are our new accounts, I need them put into the accounting system.” She nodded before placing the folder in a basket. “Then this is the paper form we need to fill out for your transfer technically.”
She took the paper from him, started filling it out, signing it at the bottom. Levi was looking over her shoulder, correcting her on the date.
“Sir, we’ve talked about this about 23 times. Personal space and not looking over my shoulder. I don’t like it.”
“Well, you put down the wrong date so it’s a good thing I am. Also, you didn’t fill out the reason for the transfer.” He noticed she tensed up before writing, ‘personal/family issues.’
“You need to sign this too.” She handed him her pen, he touched her hand and leaned over her to sign it. “Is there anything else?”
“How do you want to go about doing our meetings from now on?” He eyed her, she was clearly still wearing her bikini but had a t-shirt and jeans over it.
“We can email for the weekly meetings and we can do Skype or something for the monthly meetings.” She shrugged. “Do you have a better solution?” She turned in her chair to face him.
“Yeah, just show up to the fucking office for work.”
“I could probably come in for meetings.”
“What the fuck is going on with you?”
“Sir, I don’t want to let you into my personal life. Work and personal need to be separate.”
Levi placed his hands on her chair, trapping her there. “___.” He stared into her eyes as she blushed from him saying her first name. “You are an important asset to me. I want to know why my main accountant is staying at home.”
“Because I’m depressed, I have been all this time. Now, I can’t function and pretend anymore. I want to be in this, I want to learn how to climb out and I can’t make myself get out my bed let alone go into the office. But I can do my work from my bed.”
“What made everything go south so badly?”
___ teared up. “My fiance found someone else and left me. I’m alone now. I’ve never been alone with my depression and now it’s swallowing me.” A few tears leaking down her face, her bottom lip trembled a bit as she tried to hold back.
Levi sighed and gave her a small look, placing a hand on her cheek wiping away her tears.
“It’s his loss, my gain.” Levi kissed her forehead. “Let me heal you.” Levi kissed her gently, she only looked at him, with dismal (e/c) eyes. He glanced at her lips, then to her eyes, he kissed her once more. “I’ve loved you for years. And he’s a fucking fool if he won’t appreciate you, I will.” More of her tears started to escape. “You’re beautiful, even when crying.”
___ gulped for a moment, before finally giving in, letting all of the tears go. She reached up, wrapping her arms around Levi’s neck, trying to muffle her cries into his neck. Levi bent down more to pick her up, carrying her to the couch in her office. As he sat down, he placed her on his lap, before wrapping his arms around her tightly.
“I’ll heal you with the love that I have harbored for years.” ___ rests her head on his shoulder, clinging to him. He couldn’t help but smirk. “I never thought I would be able to hold you, it feels amazing to be here for you.” He kissed her forehead. “Take your time loving me. For now, I want to be your support. Even if you never say that you love me. I want you to be happy, your happiness means everything to me.”
___ closed her eyes. “I still want to stay home.”
“I’ll bring your work every day that you stay at home.” She nodded. “At least you’re mine now.”
“I never agreed to that.”
“You will, one day.”
#attack on titan#aot#aot fic#levi x reader#levi/reader#levi ackerman#fanfic#fanficition#lalahbug#lalah writes#reader insert#xreader#self insert
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Fanfic Authors Tag Game
Thankee for tagging @moramewhq
AO3 name(s): Tottwriter, [REDACTED]
Fandoms: Haikyuu!!, Digimon (a little lapsed, but I still tinker with my WIPs!), sliiiightly BNHA, and I have a TUA wip which I will someday resume. I try not to venture into new fandoms but, you know...I fail.
Number of fics: I have 56 posted works, but also, uh... a few which I haven’t gotten to posting yet.
1. Fic I spent the most time on:
Um. Oh jeez. I mean, I guess nothing has overtaken Hope’s Fire just yet, because that’s the monster. Hopefully nothing else will? XD
2. Fic I spent the least time on:
Well this is genuinely a toss-up, because I have a few which I wrote for 20 minute prompt game fills, and then hardly even bothered to edit before they were thrown up on Ao3 without a backward glance.
Annoyingly, some of them are among my most popular works.
3. Longest fic:
Hope’s Fire! As I said, it’s the monster, currently clocking in at ~144k. My longest completed fic is The Ocean’s Curse though, which is 62.4k!
4. Shortest fic:
Okay so my shortest fic is actually a bit of weird experimental stuff I wrote for Starbound, which you will note I did not list in the fandoms above, lol. It’s old and weird and 351 words long... I don’t think anyone wants to read it. You don’t want to read it.
5. Most hits:
Hope’s Fire! It’s not really surprising tbh, given how long ago I started it and how many chapters it has.
6. Most kudos:
Hope’s Fire wins this one too! I bet you’re all really shocked to learn this.
7. Most comment threads:
...imma give you lot one guess.
8. Favorite fic I wrote:
fuck. Er. I dunno? I mean I write because I like writing them, you know? But honestly if I have to narrow it down... Parallel for the ‘serious’ fics, and either Press Play or (Not) Moving On for my more lighthearted stuff. It’s hard to pick when I swing between such tone extremes!
9. Fic you want to re-write:
I mean this is probably gonna sound really dumb but...kinda also Hope’s Fire??
Hear me out tho, because it’s complicated (and also I sorta already am). This fic started in 2015. I love it wholeheartedly, and I keep coming back to tinker and I wish life would stop throwing so much shit in my way and let me devote a bit more time to fic-writing so I continue it properly.
But the periodic and spaced-out returns have meant that every time I knuckle down I end up re-reading the whole fic for continuity and tone reasons. You can probably see where this is going. Each time I read my old opening I cringe. It’s just not up to the standards of my writing today and it bugs me.
If I’m being brutally honest, part of the reason I haven’t updated it in so long is that I keep getting distracted going back and tweaking/fixing old chapters rather than focusing on new ones. It’s a bad habit but one I just can’t seem to kick.
10. Share bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on:
You know, I’m actually gonna give two. I’ll drop them below a cut because this got long, but I know I have both Digimon and HQ peeps here and it’s sucky to be in the fandom that doesn’t get the love. I can’t promise when I’ll manage to get either of these posted (I’m trying to avoid adding more works to my Ao3 until they’re actually, you know, finished) but...they exist!
First up, we have Fun and Games at the Adventure Cafe
Yes, this is exactly what you think it is:
The notice on the door said “HELP WANTED” in large, sensible font.
The addendum “Enquire Within” sat below it, equally formal.
Scribbled underneath in scruffy handwriting was just one more addition:
‘as in we’re hiring. dw we know what we’re doing.’
The notice on the door the following morning was back to plain old:
HELP WANTED
Enquire Within
…It lasted half a day or so, at least.
As Sora remarked later, it was a wonder they got any applicants at all. Then again, as Taichi remarked, it wasn’t as though a lot of places were taking on extra staff—which was something of an oddity as the summer approached.
“It’s that swanky place round the corner,” he said with disgust, peering out of the window. “Bastards are driving everyone out of business.”
“But not you guys, right!” piped up their current interviewee. “You’re doing great! Honestly, as soon as I saw the sign I knew I had to apply. I’ve always wanted to start my own ramen business, and I figure I ought to start out with a popular place like this and get some real experience in the industry, you know?”
“Er, yes. Right,” Sora remarked, looking over his application. “Well, Daisuke, I will have to warn you that as a new hire you’d be working front-of-house rather in the kitchen, but if you’re okay with that—”
“Eh, just tell him he’s hired already,” Taichi replied, turning back to face them with a grin. “Yamato could definitely use a hand in the kitchen sometimes, so taking on a future all-rounder makes total sense.”
From the look Sora shot him, it perhaps didn’t, but Daisuke was already practically leaping to his feet with a grin, exclaiming that they could totally rely on him, and he absolutely would not let them down and could start the next day if they needed him to.
Next up, for my HQ peeps, here’s a little snippet from Connection Problems, my longtime langushing halfway chatfic. I’m not sharing the chatfic stuff because formatting tumblr is hell, though.
Kenma always suspected that being a third year would turn out to be a pain, but he’d rather hoped his fears wouldn’t be realised within the first few weeks of the school year. Really, it’s bad enough that Kuro, Yaku and Kai have left, and that everyone else nominated him for the role of Captain (he’d talked them down to being Vice Captain instead, but that, apparently, was as low as they were prepared to go). He does not need Taketora constantly pestering him about—of all things—a chat group as well.
“Come on, I thought you and Kuroo were like, joined at the hip or something! Don’t try and act like you don’t miss him now he’s at university.”
He shrugs. “I have a phone. We’re keeping in touch.” Because, really. That’s all that matters, isn’t it? Why does everyone have to complicate things so much?
“Yeah, but, it’s not the same, right? Besides, what the hell! You spend all that time on your phone as it is. And even Fukunaga joined, right?”
Kenma glances over at Shouhei, who nods, grinning sheepishly. Drat.
“Still, I don’t have that chat app you all use,” he says. “It’s too much trouble setting it up, when I can message Kuro just fine.”
That should have been the end of it. Any rational person would have seen that it was no good, and left him in peace. Kuro would have, certainly. Not pushing—never pushing, actually. Just nudging him along a little, and even then, only when it comes to volleyball. He’s learnt all of Kenma’s limits over the years.
But the thing is, Kuro isn’t there any more. It’s just himself, Taketora and Shouhei, and okay, Shouhei never pushes—he hardly ever says anything, for that matter. But Taketora is clearly some sort of demon and he, Kenma, is being punished. Maybe he really pissed someone off in a previous life. Maybe this is a penance so he can piss someone off in his next life with a free pass. Either way, the badgering doesn’t let up.
Kenma holds out until the 27th of May. Seven weeks of hassling is more than enough for anyone.
Aaaand for tagging how about: @ahiddenpath, @humandisasterbuckybarnes, @mooifyourecows
#tag memes#fanfiction stuff#Hope's Fire#once again the author gets waaay too carried away#also if you wanna know my other ao3 you should probably DM me and also be over 18#because *coughs*
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Meesa been a dipshit, Perry the Platypus!
(I was gonna just edit my sidebar for this information but there’s some sort of HTML error with hyperlinks that I can’t seem to fix because I don’t remember how to Tumblr, so here’s a post instead)
I am just back real quick to clear a few things up. One thing I’m not clearing up is my reputation, which is very deservedly not so great
Here’s the deal. This blog is a museum of cringe and rather than deleting it, I'm going to leave it here as an example of what not to do/how not to act/etc. A lot of times I was really positive, and it was genuine! That’s fine. But... A lot of times I was really negative, and it was also genuine. That’s not fine. Negativity is always a two-way street, no matter who ‘starts it’. Point is, it’s really important to control how much of yourself and your views you show to a group of people or a community, and I failed to do that. It’s really important to separate how people see you from who you are, and I also failed to do that. It’s really important to be able to comprehend criticism of behavior just as well as you can comprehend criticism of media, and I failed to do that. It’s really important to remember that negativity rots your brain and your soul no matter what’s ‘right or wrong’ about whatever situation is negative, and I failed to remember that!
(’keep reading’ link on account of a sensitive topic mentioned, see tags for warnings)
So, I spent all of these years refusing to tell anyone in the community that I’m a CSA and sexual assault survivor and that this is what the sexual shit was about. (There are a lot of reasons, but I think the main one was that I didn’t want to deal with the excessive sympathy from some people contrasted with excessive hatred from other people. I just wanted to be a run-of-the-mill NSFW writer, not someone capital-W-capital-C Writing to Cope... which is the truth.) Well, ‘about’ meaning I started down that path to cope and it grew from there. Obviously I was not writing jokey NSFW tales for coping, those came later after I’d successfully gotten a handle on how to feel ‘normal’ (meaning comfortable, I guess) about sex.
I sometimes wonder if I should have been open with people about this from the start, but I’ve also heard the opinion that survivors don’t ever owe anyone that detail (the victim status) -- and while I’ve long felt ‘on the fence’ between those two options -- especially after I had other victims get mad at me over the fact that I hide it -- I’m leaning more toward the latter opinion now. IMO it doesn’t need to be anyone’s business if someone has been raped, regardless of what media the person creates. This is just my opinion of course.
Back in September I briefly revealed my victim status but received immediate hateful backlash for it and deleted the posts. In hindsight I don’t think this was a true reflection of how people see survivors in cases like mine, even on Tumblr; rather, it was a fluke chunk of people who were probably the same person, or fewer than they seemed. I still believe that the majority of people are understanding toward survivors, even those who ‘don’t fit the social narrative’ or however people want to phrase it. If anyone wants to, for the sake of... anything I guess, the edited/redacted posts are still in the September text post archive; only the direct disclosure ones were deleted.
I’ve decided to permanently come clean about my victim status because I am tired of feeling like I am lying by omission, and the majority of my bridges are either burned or nonfunctioning now anyway. So there’s that fact, maybe it will make my tonally and topically awkward presence in this community make more sense, if not then aight
Back on track: Overall, make sure you don't give energy back at -- or otherwise contribute to -- drama in Internet communities, because it can mess up one’s life big time. I learned the hard way, so please don't learn it yourself the hard way; instead use people like me as an example and avoid making these mistakes. All of my worst mistakes are right here on this blog and public, and I did it to myself by both taking others’ bait for negativity and contributing my own original negativity; what’s in common between those types is that I could have stopped both of the patterns by doing nothing. I hope something constructive can come for somebody else from my leaving this blog as-is; look through it, see how I overshared about my life and feelings, see how I’d fluctuate between ‘totally fine for months’ and ‘snaps all of a sudden’, see how I gave the SCP community too much of myself and thus became someone who takes everything too personally for his own good... and keep in mind how that all came across despite the fact that I had good intentions. Intentions don’t mean shit, sadly, if behavior doesn’t reflect it. Making enemies easily is a curse, but it’s a curse the affected person can remove if they make the effort. I should’ve made the effort.
If anybody wants to chat or wants additional context or whatevs, my Discord is Cyantreuse#6266. (Obligatory warning that I don’t always reply quickly because I’m running errands/working.)
I won’t rule out using this blog again one day, but at this time I don’t want to have a platform readily available where I can spew whatever I want at a couple thousand people at any given time, because that’s the circumstance I put myself in for years and it made me act a dipshit on too many occasions. While I think I’ve learned how I fucked up, I don’t yet trust myself enough to have the resource available beyond making this one post about the relevant issues at hand. Right now I use Reddit; I am fond of it because the comment voting thing is an ever-present reminder that there are repercussions for what people say -- conversation format is important, and I do sometimes wonder how I’d have turned out if I’d learned how to Internet in threaded conversations instead of in reblog chains.
Please do reach out on Discord if you wish, though know I’m only giving that because I am about to log right back out after I hit post and not look at my blog again for however long it takes me to feel like a stable person -- just don’t want to permanently ghost everybody either.
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hiya drew, what are a couple bands/songs you'd recommend for someone interested in getting into classic rock? I hope you're having a great day
hey anon! this is an extremely loaded question! sdfjdfkgjd (and i’m really flattered you’re askin me, because, omg, it’s an honor)
(under a read more bc i talk too god damn much)
okay. lemme preface this by saying i barely scratch the surface when it comes to classic rock. in fact i just like the “popular” classic rock bands, because i’m a hipster loser (and i grew up on some of this stuff and don’t really have much of an interest venturing further but hey, who knows, maybe i’ll expand my spotify library in due time)
there are people on this website in the CR fandom who are so much better equipped to answer this, but u asked me, and i never really bothered to integrate into the cr fandom anyway because i feel like theyre all cooler than me and i just wanna sit down and listen to like, the same two albums on repeat, but anyway. to answer your question…
it really just depends on what genre you like. what kind of music you want to get into; i can sit here and tell you to listen to pink floyd and go on about their significance but i can’t make you Like them yknow?
so…..i’m just gonna list a few of my favorite songs by the most well-known classic rock bands because, like i said i just kind of barely scratch the surface on the classic rock format as a whole
as some of you may be aware, i am drew “beatlefucker” angelshane (thanks ana) and to get these bug boys out of the way, i’ll give u some song recs from the beatles! (early 1960s to 1970) (genres: rock, pop, psychedelia)
surely you’ve heard of them; if not, they caused a huge uproar across the world called beatlemania. think of like…tumblr, as a planet, and the beatles is the newest, hottest anime of the season, and everybody’s got a huge heart boner for them. because that’s basically what it was.
here are some of their songs that have been in my head for the past few days: drive my car (rubber soul, 1965); eleanor rigby (revolver, 1966); and if i fell (a hard day’s night, 1964)
revolver is the most recent album i’ve listened to, they have more but the next proper Album is sgt. pepper and that feels…like. so much. it’s a Huge Album, both content-wise and…history-wise? anyway, it’s very intimidating for me and i think i want to take my time with it before i rush in
i’m just gonna get led zeppelin (late 1960s to 1980, some reunions sprinkled here and there,) out of the way, now, too. (genres: hard rock, blues rock, folk rock, heavy metal)
let me just say right here: i hate jimmy page. as a person. and i honestly think most of his solos aren’t…that great. but for real, i won’t tolerate any of that ugly shithead on my blog and just because i like LZ doesn’t mean i condone any of the shit he did.
(you’ll notice a trend, especially in the older bands, that controversy is super common. u can’t..really get into classic rock without having to see the darker side of your faves. it sucks, nobody’s perfect, and i don’t agree with separating the artist from the art, but it does get hard to like certain music when you know the shit that happened with certain artists.)
Anyway! that being said, i truthfully only really listen to led zeppelin and led zeppelin ii. some physical graffiti but, eh. So, if you wanted to get into lz, you’re askin the wrong person, is what i’m saying jfkgsdj
here’s my song recs: good times bad times and dazed and confused (led zeppelin, 1968); whole lotta love and ramble on (led zeppelin ii, 1969); kashmir (physical graffiti, 1975)
and honestly the JP thing is why i don’t really listen to LZ much outside of their self titled and lz2. cos like. i just can’t.
QUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN (1970s to…now? personally, if freddie mercury isn’t involved then..is it really queen) (genre: rock)
if you don’t know who queen is, you know who queen is. bohemian rhapsody? of course you know that song. everyone does.
but if you don’t then that’s perfectly ok too. it’s a good song imo. not their Best, but it’s good
i gotta be honest, i listen to singles mostly. i’ve got a lot on my proverbial plate and while i Love freddie mercury (bi king) sometimes i’m just. not in the headspace for queen. they’re good but a certain specific set of circumstances need to happen where i feel aligned with queen music enough to listen to it. also, freddie’s death makes me really sad and if i think about it too hard i’ll get depressed.
here’s my favorite queen songs!!!
brighton rock and killer queen (sheer heart attack, 1974); you’re my best friend (a night at the opera, 1975); somebody to love and GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY (a day at the races, 1976); TOO MUCH LOVE WILL KILL YOU (made in heaven, 1996)
honestly..queen is so influential and inspiring and i fucking love freddie mercury so like. those are just a few of my favorites. i could honestly go on forever about it but let’s stop there
now let’s get away from the boys and talk about stevie nicks because she is my mother and i would die in her place given the chance. i love her. I Love Her.
but i mean you’d probably better begin at fleetwood mac (late 1960s to the mid 1990s; late 1990s to …now?) (genres: pop rock, soft rock, blues rock, art pop, british blues)
this is a band i don’t know much about. because there’s apparently so much to know about them, so much inter-band dynamic drama. from what i’ve skimmed. So Much Drama.
i…can’t provide any songs for you, because i dont listen to fleetwood mac and i need to fix this ASAP but i feel like the time isn’t right yet. is that dumb of me to think? probably, but i’m gonna stick by my guns.
you should listen to fleetwood mac and tell me what you think!!!
(yes i included a portion on stevie nicks without giving song recs because i’m awful: listen to edge of seventeen, bella donna, 1981)
okay back to smelly dudes cos that’s all the world fuckin cares about i guess
pink floyd!!! (mid 1960s to mid 1990s, mid 2000s, and early/mid 2010s) (genres: progrock, art rock, psychedelic rock)
i mean i love them but i’m just dipping my toes in the water here. i’ve barely listened to them, but from what i’ve heard they’re very good. VERY politically driven. i cannot stress this enough. they’re the good kind of politics i think though
you’ve most definitely seen the album art for the dark side of the moon. like, you just have. there’s probably no way you couldn’t have. (but if u haven’t thats fine)
here’s some tunes: money (tdsotm, 1973); the wall. just. the wall. if you love concept albums, here you go. listen to the wall.
that’s all i got. pathetic, i know, but i’m workin my way up i promise
here’s where we get into more familiar territory. ..having said that, i don’t really know much about the history of the rolling stones, but a good friend of mine Does and maybe i can pry info out of her. but i won’t bc she’s too cool 4 school and she’s really great
anyway, the rolling stones!!! (early 1960s to like. now i guess) (genres: rock, blues, blues rock, rock and roll)
woof. what can be said about them really. there’s…..almost too much to say. i love them a lot.
Okay when i get into bands, its in my DNA to listen from the very earliest recording i can find (usually on spotify nowadays) so i’ve been sslowly working my way past the baby pebbles albums (mostly covers) to their original work (fun fact did you know john and paul of beatles fame wrote their own music, and when mick and keith of stones fame found out it was In Fact That Easy they began to write their own music too? fascinating.)
ANYWAY here’s some stones songs: gimme shelter and you can’t always get what you want (let it bleed, 1969); angie (goats head soup, 1973); sympathy for the devil (beggars banquet, 1968)
again i am….Slowly inching my way up their discography. snails pace. i’ll get there. (u can ask glimmerkeith on tumblr for stones song recs, bc shes great and knows much more than i do and i would die for jenn)
now here’s a band…….that i’ve rediscovered pretty recently. try, last week.
AC/DC!!!!!!!! (early 1970s to now) (genres: hard rock, blues rock, rock and roll)
this is Very Much Your Dads™ Music. probably. most likely, anyway. but listen: i saw them in concert once and (while it probably…wasnt the best experience for me) i had a fucking Blast. very sad things happened in this band in the last few months.
not recent, but very important, in 1980 their lead singer bon scott died and everyone was sad. then brian johnson came out with his fuckin voice and everyone was like “ok sweet lets get back to rock n’ roll”
so this will be split by scott’s era and the johnson era (heh heh) And, because i’m familiar with this band, i’ll list the album in question and name a few songs off it instead of just naming songs. because yes.
scott:
T.N.T (1975); it’s a long way to the top (if you wanna rock ‘n’ roll); T.N.T; high voltage
dirty deeds done dirt cheap (1976); dirty deeds done dirt cheap (edit: i just realized how much i actually hate this album and only like that song so WHOOPS but i wanna keep the formatting so, yknow)
let there be rock (1977); let there be rock; whole lotta rosie
highway to hell (1979); highway to hell (it just felt really weird, making a reclist of songs by ac/dc and Not including this one)
johnson:
back in black (1980); HELLS BELLS; shoot to thrill; given the dog a bone; back in black; you shook me all night long
for those about to rock we salute you (1981); for those about to rock (we salute you)
the razors edge (1990); thunderstruck
making this list, it hit me how much of bon scott i actually Listen to when i listen to ac/dc dfkjghjdfksdsfj but uh yeah those. are good
AND NOW…FOR THE FUCKIN MOMENT I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR
GUNS! AND! ROSES! (mid 1980s to NOW MOTHERFUCKERS!!! THEYRE BACK!!! well, touring at least) (genres: hard rock, heavy metal
arguably my favorite band. subjectively, my favorite classic rock band. objectively? they own a huuuge portion of my heart, and my ass.
so listen up: these two kids from indiana run away to california to get out of fucking indiana, because who wants to stay in indiana, (it’s more like, one gets out, and like a year later the other kid tries to find him in the big mean streets of L.A) and along the way they get shuffled in and out of bands together. they start bands, break up bands, the whole fuckin shebang.
and then a few chance miracles happen and suddenly guns n’ roses is formed in like 1985. my boys? those are my boys.
i’m gonna do what i did w ac/dc and bullet the albums and then i’m gonna talk about the albums because i got SHIT to SAY
appetite for destruction (1987); welcome to the jungle, out ta get me, paradise city, sweet child o’ mine, ROCKET QUEEN
all right so here’s the deal, it was very hard not picking every single song on the album because every single song on the album is fucking perfection. actual gold. there’s no flaws in this album. Nothing. everything is good and perfect and i’m not biased at all
did you know axl rose (one of the boys from indiana) recorded each line individually? so, he sang a line, and then stopped recording, and then started recording the next line because he wanted it to be perfect?
did you know appetite was originally a flop album but after this dude got the guys at MTV to play the music video for Jungle at like 5am, guns n’ roses BLEW THE FUCK UP. Everybody know about them practically overnight. it was surreal and really cool, apparently.
and did you know axl played the synthesizer in paradise city? that’s adorable. i fucking love him.
gn’r lies (1988); patience; used to love her
the first four tracks in this EP are from their very first EP ever recorded - it Sounds like it’s taken from a live show but they dubbed in the audience in post, to make it seem like they had huge crowds attending their shows when in reality that wasn’t the case. (their first ep was released in december 1986, they had loyal fans but the crowd wasn’t that rowdy until after appetite came out)
believe me when i tell you. don’t listen to one in a million. or like, do. but i’m not gonna fight anyone about this. it’s fucked up. i’m not defending axl at all and i actually struggled with liking guns after i listened to it.
but unfortunately here we are and i saw them in concert and i had to deal with some fuckhead in the row behind me and his friend who kept Shouting that they play the song, when nobody on stage could her them, and like. of course they wouldn’t play it today. fuck off man
use your illusion i (1991); right next door to hell; dust n’ bones; perfect crime; november rain; BAD APPLES; COMA
i tried to limit these to five songs an album but i fuckin can’t, anon. illusion1 is just so fucking perfect. i can’t choose between my children. pls forgive me
on dust n’ bones and double talkin’ jive is izzy stradlin doing vocals (the second indiana boy, the one who left indiana first) and he’s regarded as the most unnderrated member in gnr by like everybody. so much so that it’s almost…too much. but like basically he was addicted to drugs and everything and then he sobered up when everyone else in the band was still hooked and he was like “wtf i’m out” and axl was like noooo :(
use your illusion ii (1991); civil war; 14 years; GET IN THE RING; locomotive; estranged; you could be mine
UYI1 and 2 were released on the same day. can you imagine how fuckin wild that day was? gnr fans scrambled to their record stores by the hordes probably.
izzy does vocal work in 14 years and this album was his last contribution to the band
uhhhh this album is also fucking perfect but i get sad listening to it sometimes so i try not to? very emotionally driven work. but like, where UYI1 was mostly passionate and angry-ish based, UYI2 is much more contemplative and uhh. sad. i guess.
“the spaghetti incident?” (1993)
this is a cover album and also the last album to feature my love, my soul, my light, my heart, slash. also duff. i mean i love him probably almost just as much but, yeah. duff actually looks like my cousin’s dad so i can’t really…. um. i feel weird about talking about him kjdfgd
but SLASH my god what a perfect man. i love him more than almost everything.
hey fun fact in between UYI and TSI, guns n’ roses toured with metallica and that tour is when slash, In His Autobiography, said he “lost” axl. his word. he Lost axl.
axl rose is a whole fuckin…..topic for another time, and i’m not gonna get into my own bullshit here, but that’s basically the situation when you listen to TSI. the band is fractured and barely holding together. after TSI, slash and duff leave GNR and axl is the only original member from the band still in it
(of course that opens up a conversation of who was originally in guns n’ roses but that’s another discourse for another time)
CHINESE DEMOCRACY (2008); CHINESE DEMOCRACY; BETTER; THERE WAS A TIME; SORRY; MADAGASCAR; PROSTITUTE
I. FUCKING. LOVE. THIS. ALBUM. MORE THAN I COULD EVER EXPRESS. everyone says it’s “not gnr” of COURSE it isn’t gnr, when YOU think of GNR, you see slash. and like, i love slash? but he didn’t make the band. EVERYONE - axl, izzy, steven, duff, And slash made the band. after steven was kicked, gnr lost a huge part of what made them stand out, what made the band unique.
and like, fuck, i love dizzy. i love all of the new additions. but you cannot. fucking look me in the eyes and tell me you love UYI But you hate CD because it’s “not gnr”. like. fuck you man.
ugh anyway. i just gotta let y’all know my Stance on this. i love chinese democracy. i’ll defend this album with my fucking life. i was really…disappointed when, at my concert, i didn’t hear more CD but like i also saw slash in person (albeit, from far away, but we shared the same arena and that’s. more than i can handle)
i wanna get lyrics from prostitute tattooed on my body.
also like you can’t tell me better and sorry aren’t about slash sorry but that’s just the fuckin tea
Now, listen, this ask got away from me. i didn’t include…SO many bands because, like i said, i just scratch the surface of what classic rock is. my word isn’t law, ok? that bein said, i am always, ALWAYS down to talk about any of the bands here, and others!!! if i know of them. i’m always taking music/song recs, too.
thanks..for reading this stupid answer to your innocent ask sdfkjghsdf
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Bonds 1.7 - Your eyes have yet to open
My 3DS ran out of battery after playing a little too much Ace Attorney on the bus on my way to Sao Paulo, so I'll start reading 1.7 right now! Let us see what Blake decides to end up doing now that the attic demon is nowhere to be seen, his house is surrounded and no pizza is ever to be had again. Sorry for formatting weirdness, but be prepared for a bunch of “>”. I don’t even have my computer right now or else I’d use Notepad++ to edit them all out in a single click.
Post edit note: I spotted some weird formatting here and there after I posted this due to the posting tool on tumblr being just awful. I hope I have removed all of them, sorry for any awkwardness!
> Damn it.
>
> Very slowly, with exaggerated care, I closed the door. My eyes were fixed on the outermost edge of the circle, my peripheral vision covering the shears and the interior, up until the closing door blocked my field of view.
>
> I couldn’t say why the closed door made me feel more secure. Whatever was supposed to be in that circle probably wouldn’t be stopped by a door. But the fear I’d felt before opening the door had broken up into a general sense of disquiet. My heart wasn’t racing, but was pounding, with very slow, heavy beats. Absently, I grabbed my sweatshirt on the way down the stairs.
>
> Rose was waiting for me on the third floor. “Blake! You idiot!”
>
> I didn’t want to hear it. “I can barely hear you. Meet you in the study.”
>
> I passed into the secret room, circled around to the far end and climbed down the ladder to reach the area with the mirror.
>
> “What the hell were you doing?”
>
> “I take it you read the letter,” I said. I was almost relieved to have the distraction of a conversation with Rose. I wanted to think on the circle, the possibilities there, but what the hell was I even supposed to do? I couldn’t even think straight, let alone read.
>
> “Upside-down, but yes. You don’t go talking to demons or whatever elses without preparation.”
>
> “It was prepared,” I said. I turned the letter around, then tapped it. “This was an emergency measure. A ‘you’re-fucked-and-you-need-the-big-guns-now’ measure. Grandmother outlined the key instructions.”
>
> “You don’t go running off to check if you haven’t read about it in depth. There’s material on this guy.” Her voice was rising as she talked.
I have to be honest that Blake did something very dangerous that I think he really shouldn't. Given that there wasn't any rush in time, he could have stopped to check the pages the letter refered to when talking about this specific being, those would have been very precise and able to give them a better way to weight on the should or should we not visit the attic demon.
> “I had to check,” I said, feeling more grounded. Feeling a little more sure of myself, I said, “I was thinking it might have killed Molly.”
>
> “What?”
>
> “What Laird said… I had the impression this thing might have killed Molly, and that Laird was misleading us when he said he knew what killed her. By saying that, he leads us to think the threat is from out there, and that way we have our backs turned when the threat from within comes after us.”
>
> “So? You read up on it, so you know what to say to it-”
>
> “I wasn’t going to say a thing, if it was there. No need to track the conversation if we don’t interact. I only needed a glance, and that glance showed me that there wasn’t anything in the circle.”
>
> “I- huh? What do you mean?”
>
> “A pair of scissors apparently penetrated a circle drawn on the floor.”
>
> “It’s free?”
Another thing I might have just not gotten right is that this being doesnt INHABIT the reflected plane of the object it reflects itself on, but rather uses it as a gateway to get completely free.
"and if his image is cast in a surface, he will exist in that surface, allowing him to step free of that surface and the confines of the circle." Yup, there it is.
Hm. But maybe he can only escape if said reflective surface is outside of the circle? That would make sense for me at least. So maybe he is just waiting for someone to pick that thing up. More inportantly is, how did those shears end up there? Who in their right mind would leave shears around in a table when something like this guy is sitting right next to it. Maybe he can "turn off" in a way to make people think he is gone. Maybe Molly just made a big ol' mistake.
> “I don’t know,” I said. “The door was locked, Molly didn’t use that key, unless the lawyer resealed it in wax when they reshelved the books. It doesn’t fit. Maybe grandmother betrayed her own rules and brought something reflective into that room and then positioned it to where it might interfere with the circle, before locking everything up, but it’d be crazy to do that. If the thing can jump into our eyes, it can jump into the metal on scissors.”
>
> “You’re right. That doesn’t make sense.”
>
> “It doesn’t,” I said. “Which puts me in the funny spot of feeling more sure that it’s in that room, than I was before.”
>
> “I don’t know how you can jump to that conclusion,” Rose said. “It’s better, now that it looks like it’s gone?”
>
> “I don’t know. Which is why we’re going to do a little bit of reading, now,” I said. I felt more centered. Somewhere between ‘explaining is the best way to learn’ and ‘misery loves company’, explaining to Rose had helped me to find my mental and emotional footing, clarifying my thoughts so I could argue them. “Let’s meet Barba-whatsit.”
So Molly couldn't have done it? I have my doubts about that. It had been some weeks! The wax doesn't make me as unsure as the seal that makes it hard to not have the letter flying about.
> I found and picked up Dark Names.
>
> “This is the sort of thing we need to read before you go to places like that.”
>
> “Rose,” I said. So much for that bit on emotional and mental footing.
>
> “I don’t want to let this opportunity go by, because it needs saying. First you go off with Laird, and I have to pull your ass out of the fire, and now you go-”
>
> “Rose!” I said, louder.
>
> She shut up.
>
> “We can’t do this,” I said. “You second guessing me at every turn. This arguing. I’ve been through some shit-”
>
> “So have I, in case you haven’t noticed,” she said, bitter.
>
> “Nearly getting killed?” I asked.
>
> “I was there! We’re connected, Blake. You die, I probably die.”
>
> “Before,” I said. “Before any of this. I’m talking about when I was seventeen and newly homeless and picking the wrong spot to settle down for the night, only to find out that a local gang thinks you’re staking out their stash or drop point or something, and you get beat down by a group of six or seven people? Or having a group of teenagers with BB guns come after you because they want a live target and you’re pretty much subhuman to them? The pellets don’t go very far beneath the skin, but one of them hit something, because my arm bruised purple from the bicep to my hand.”
>
> “You never said anything about that,” Rose said.
>
> “There were worse days. Days I’m probably never going to talk to you about. Or tell anyone about, even if some people close to me maybe put some of the puzzle pieces together. I’m not aiming for pity here, I don’t want it. I don’t want to use this for leverage to win an argument. What I was going to say was that I’ve been through stuff, before any of this, and I made it this far with my instincts. I can’t and won’t abandon them.”
>
> “I’m going to be a bit of a bitch here,” Rose said. “I don’t think your instincts are that good.”
I love that these two characters have been put together in this magically-bound way. They are both the same-ish people. But Rose is more prim and Blake more of a brute guy because of his life experiences. Both of them have been wrong in this very first arc alone, yet they both have also been right and are very flawed when communicating to one another, they know this and its frustrating to them just like it should be, they didn't ever actually gotten the chance to BOND. Since they've met they have been in this crazy rush of "something more important to do".
> “They weren’t good when I was first on the streets, either. But I honed them, I stayed alive and mostly whole, I refined those instincts, found people I could trust, and with their help I got to a point where I was surviving on my own. Which is something I’m proud of. I can do the same here, but I need time to get a handle on it all.”
>
> “We don’t have time,” she said. “At this rate, you’re going to make a mistake, and we can’t afford mistakes.”
>
> “Then help. Continue helping, please. We’re the same, the only difference being that I walked a different path.”
>
> “And you’re still walking it,” Rose said. “It’s a lot to ask, for me to trust you as an extension of me, when I’m not sure I trust myself.”
>
> “I’m going to ask it anyways,” I said. “That you trust me, and that you trust yourself. I’ll talk to you about this stuff more, but I need it to be a talk. Don’t second guess everything I do, or it’s just going to become noise, and the doubts are going to fuck me up as much as anything. I need cooperation, collaboration.”
>
> “You want me to cater to your unique needs, but is there any consideration to mine? I’ve been dealing… I’ve got the memories of dealing with our family for years. It doesn’t exactly build up a team player mentality.”
>
> “My experiences didn’t either,” I said. Barring the last year or two. “But I’ll try if you do. Please.”
>
> She was glaring at me, practically bristling with frustration. I probably didn’t look happy either, now that I thought on it.
>
> Without saying anything more, I turned my attention to the book, until I found the page.
>
> No image. Only text.
>
> I looked up at Rose, and she was gone from the frame. She reappeared, holding her own copy. I could hear the thud as it hit the desk on her side.
>
> “Page thirty-eight,” I said.
>
> “Thank you,” she responded.
I will say that he has to do some consessions to her pretty soon though, or else this is going to blow up and I dont feel like Blake is seeing it. He has been pretty dismissive, for many different reasons all the time, of the fact that Rose feels bound with the way her existance works. A fight between these two would be baaaad.
> The being I have named Barbatorem is an entity falling under the classification Insolitus Nex. This author does not believe in stricter classifications, and leaves it to others to label him a devil or goblin as they see fit. It is difficult to impossible to guess as to his origins, but one can speculate that it came about after the dawn of human civilization, given the common elements and the trend in appearances.
[Reminder to look up the latin meaning of those two words. I know Nox means night, but dont know Nex. Insolitus reminds me of solitude but the in-prefix could mean solitude-less or something else entirely that I'm not seeing.]
So Insolitus is actually unaccostumed. As in, not used to something or not exactly adapted to a certain type of experience. This is an afternote btw, but I do not see what that could imply, even more so knowing that he actually accepts a symbol of someone that made sort of rules between Others and humans. Nex seems to mean things like death, perish, disappear. Maybe a sort of Other that doesn’t die, or that dosn’t simply cease to exist. Maybe an Other that doesn’t perceive death as something worth noting, as we’ve read from Grandma’s letter.
> The entity was first bound by this author on April 23rd, 1953. The binding was a difficult one to tackle, with a little more than a share of guesswork going into the execution. In the end, this author used an Ut Vires approach pointing to Contrariummethodology. An abstract entity bound in a rule-defining diagram of geometric lines and Byzantine notation. Twenty years after the fact, this author stands by her reasoning at the time.
>
> Should another practitioner need to bait him again, know that this author used: a pile of festering boar carcasses, six feet high, each carved with his name when well into their state of decay, the decay timed using refrigeration to be roughly parallel; seven jars of burning hair, resupplied keep the flames perpetually alight; and the crest of this offering was an innocent and a virgin in the form of a one year old innocent, placed at the height of the pile. For more on the reasoning behind this methodology, please see my other work, Dark Contracts, chapter four.
>
> This author cannot say whether he was attracted to the virgin aspect or the innocent, but this author was nonetheless happy to have an option at hand to serve both purposes. The child was unharmed and largely unaware of what occurred.
What a sight to see. Just a baby sitting atop the carcasses. What the fuck.
> Given Barbatorem’s nature, this author would recommend another means of baiting him in the future, as he will remember, anticipate and adapt with each means used. He agreed to be bound by the seal of Suleiman bin Daoud four months after the initial capture. See the Others volumes, book one, chapter one, if unfamiliar with the seal. The diagram this author used for entrapment, necessitating only one line to open or close, can be found on page five of this entry, followed by the means of summoning and the recommended diagram for imprisonment.
>
> Signing Barbatorem to the Standard remains the proudest accomplishment for this author, at that particular date and time, marking her first feat in this particular field.
>
> Those looking to interact with Barbatorem at any length should see about precautions against abstract entities in Classifying Others: Fiends and Darker Beings, chapter four, and the texts on means of attack and defense against Others, in Infernal Wrath, chapter two.
>
> Rose was already looking up at me when I finished. A bit faster than me when it came to reading.
>
> “A baby?” she asked.
>
> “Option at hand,” I said, as I turned the page to get a look at what came next, “I guess Uncle Charles or Aunt Irene get offhand mentions in the books.”
>
> “I still hate them, but I’m maybe getting a sense of why they’re a little fucked up,” Rose said.
Oh man these were all family members living in the house weren't they? How often did they get used as magical experiments and how DID this actually affect them in some psychologic way or maybe in a more abstract magic sode-effect way?
> “This is the second mention of the Suleiman dude I’ve seen.”
>
> “Suleiman bin Daoud,” she said.
>
> “Want to do some side research while I get caught up on Barbatorem, here? Look up the chapters in those other books, and maybe get some info on the seal?”
>
> “Okay,” Rose said. “Working together?”
>
> I nodded, then I looked up at the second floor, where the bookshelves line the walls. I tried to remember, voicing my thoughts aloud as I pointed to each in turn. “Types of magic, shelf one, shelf two. I think it then focuses on Others, two or three shelves. Can I turn the mirror?”
>
> “Sure.”
>
> I turned the mirror, so Rose had access to the ladder and the bookshelves in question.
>
> I resumed reading.
>
> Barbers were once surgeons, in addition to their other roles. The red on a barber’s pole is a reference to bloodletting.
HEY, I actually knew this! You could go to a barber to have your teeth removed through barbaric surgery of just punching it the fuck out with some tool or another.
Barbatorem is both, a warrior of sorts, acting with surgical precision on whatever target he is directed at. A recurring theme in earlier stories suggests that he was sent against the summoner’s enemies, almost always powerful figures, and he brought them to ruin in the worst ways. He does not seek out mischief with those who summon him, but he takes advantage if one is offered. For this reason, he is a reasonably safe entity to summon if one takes care to follow instructions. He serves as a better deleterious sending against an enemy than he does as a boon-giver. This author and three acquaintances have summoned and used him without issue.
>
> Barbatorem, before being sealed, tended to visit small settlements and sites of war, either during or after the altercation. Given his nature, it is hard to get eyewitness reports that corroborate his involvement in events. The unawakened tend to note a stench of rot, blood or burning hair, or a crude but exceptionally sharp and sturdy cutting instrument found in the aftermath of a grisly event, invariably lost a day or two later.
>
> Physically, he rends his victims, and the surgeon aspect becomes evident in how he inflicts the maximum damage possible without ever killing them, though the methods change as his form does. He will mend the damage with an expert level of care that exceeds typical modern standards, if it means keeping the victim alive. Despite the blood shed in this process, his victims typically die by other means like starvation or dehydration, unable to move under their own power or communicate a request for aid, due to a lack of limbs, missing tongue and teeth or a lack of working sensory organs, and the isolation that follows an attack.
I did not expect from the first things I read on this for some summonings to be mostly free lile this. But maybe it is balanced. One fuck-up and you are done for. Can summonings be fought off? Can summoned beings refuse a task?
> On a more abstract level, Barbatorem deals a deeper form of damage that is hard to encapsulate in this text. Rather than state the myriad ways he might harm his victims, this author would suggest a few key points to note, suggesting the wider variety of feats he can accomplish: It is believed that he can sever his target’s ability to access any higher plane, forever and irrevocably denying them whatever good things might await them after death, and he can remove any ability a practitioner has. He can pass into a demesne without needing permission, though he cannot enter an ordinary home owned by a non-practitioner (see Classifying Others, chapter four). He can evade barriers and typical practitioner’s defenses. This in mind, he obviously serves as a suitable weapon if directed at a practitioner.
>
> Barbatorem takes no one shape, but tends to favor a particular form for several years at a time before unknown events prompt a change. Previous forms include: a bipedal sheep, largely bald but for sparse patches; a bloated man disfigured to a monstrous point by lash-wounds; a pair of children hand-in-hand; and a legless man on a horse. In every form, however, he carries a bladed instrument of some kind. He has been known to carry scissors, clippers or shears in more than half of the recorded cases. Death, mutilation and a lack of hair figure into each form in one way or another (see descriptions in individual entries for notes on these fronts). Ergo, the barber reference.
This is all really cool and a neat way to tie back to how whoever sealed him figured out what attracted it. I'm almost thinking the baby served as an attraction mostly because it had no hair now.
And hey, shears. Has he taken an invisible form then? Or is he miniscule maybe? Or wait! Fuck! Maybe you need to be awakened to see him?
> “The shears are a part of him,” I said, more to myself. A glance in the mirror showed me that Rose was on the floor above, a book resting on the railing as she turned a page. Did he leave them behind? Would he?
>
> Barbatorem is mute, making dealings hard. He will see a contract up to seven times before refusing all further contracts. In this event, one can dismiss him and summon him again, but it must be to offer something else. In a dealing, he will offer expert skill in medicine, in exchange for enough blood to make the practitioner pass out – take care to avoid spilling any on the circle. He will offer to extend a practitioner’s natural lifespan by half-again or by twenty-five years, whichever is less, at the cost of the practitioner forever smelling blood, rot, and/or burning hair. He can offer to ensure that one’s blades never dull, in exchange for enough of the practitioner’s flayed skin to fill two cupped hands.
Ah here are some answers. Sounds pretty easy to deal with. But yikes to all those costs in offerings.
> There were two diagrams drawn out in black, with measurements along each face, and a ritual for summoning him. The rest of the pages had stories. Mutilated men driven to madness, without a thing left. Limbless, suckling fruitlessly on the teats of livestock. Blind men frantically scratching out endless letters to loved ones lost to this ‘barber’, using stones on cobblestone, using their fingernails when no tool was at reach, then their blood, and then the uncovered bones of their fingers. That last one was a practitioner that tried to bind him and failed.
>
> I reached the last page. Lines were drawn out, with words, followed by a shorthand cipher. ‘I have changed the contract.’ ctuvag ‘I have changed the contract.’ cvtuaa.
>
> “So?” Rose asked, behind me.
>
> “He has to be in the circle, still,” I said. “Or I wouldn’t still be here. Apparently we can’t sense him until we’re awakened, which might explain why I couldn’t see him. This guy’s spooky.”
>
> Rose nodded, solemn. “The bit on abstract entities is basically elaboration on what’s in the note. The bit on attack and defense only matters if he’s loose. There are a lot of charts. Describing what aspects to pay attention to, what elements and objects are most effective.”
>
> “Blood, burning hair, rot,” I said.
>
> “Not like that. Like in Essentials, malignant Others are going to react to purifying substances and patterns, like salt and running water. Fresh wood against dead things.”
>
> “Iron against things that are born from nature,” I said.
>
> “Right. But he’s not entirely physical, so you need something prepared in advance, meeting a few prerequisites at once. Like, this isn’t the right answer, but drawing out a pattern on a baseball bat and hitting him with it.”
>
> “So you’re working past the abstract bit,” I said. “No, I get it.”
>
> She lifted another book, turning it around so I could see a painting of a brown-skinned man with a funny little golden hat and a magnificent beard.
>
> Rose explained, “Suleiman. Sorcerer king. He was the first practitioner who really worked for the betterment of mankind and actually made headway. He established rules and contracts, and he systematically worked to challenge the biggest, baddest Others out there that he could, then used them to help get others. It brought about an age where humans could stop being the playthings of Others and start developing as a civilization.”
>
> “Okay,” I said. “And the seal?”
>
> “A formal acknowledgement on the part of an Other, that they won’t interfere with mankind without excuse, they’ll obey certain rules, and the practitioners will leave them be. Typically an Other bears some symbol or token of this bargain. Over time it’s gained a power of its own. Being sealed physically alters the Other, but it also affords them certain protections against us.”
>
> “Essentials alluded to that same deal,” I said. “It was pretty vague.”
>
> “It was because it is,” Rose said.
Vague symbolism for being that work on abstracts. Seems logical. Cool that some respect is due to the practitioners and its all thanks to people being smart about their actions rather than fear and power.
> I glanced at her, waiting for elaboration, but she only shrugged.
>
> “We know what Grandma was dealing with now,” I said. I didn’t add ‘which I wanted to do in the first place, before you stopped me from reading that book.’
>
> Instead, I said, “We can’t know if he’s inside that circle or not without awakening. Which we need to do anyways.”
>
> “On to the next part of the game plan?”
>
> I nodded.
>
> “My circle is drawn out,” she said. “Want help?”
>
> I didn’t, but I was happier if she was on my side. “Please.”
>
> Together, we walked through the steps of drawing out the chalk circle. Circle first, then measuring it out so that there were five circles at set distances around that circle, the line running through the middle of each before I carefully erased each with a damp cloth. One symbol in each little circle.
>
> Another circle, larger than the last, around the entire thing, with six circles at set intervals. I carefully set out each one.
>
> And then a third, bounding the others. Seven circles.
I SUCK at precision when drawing anything. Even a straight line when underlining something just runs outside what I expected it to go. I would be fucked in this situation for many reason, but this is a main one.
> “You’re a lot quicker at this than I was,” Rose said.
>
> I shrugged. “You’re faster at reading. Next?”
>
> “Cabinet,” Rose said. “Bottom shelf, far left.”
>
> I opened the cabinet. Bottom shelf, far left… the space as empty.
>
> I looked back at the mirror, shaking my head.
>
> “They were on my end.” Rose lifted a bowl with crystals in it.
>
> Once she showed me, I was able to find it. Bowl, crystals… ah, and a bag with other components, middle shelf, off to one side. It was all clustered together.
Maybe because Molly used them on this side of the mirror? This mystery is killing me god damn. I think I will avoid trying to speculate on the mirror world thing until we get more clues on it.
> Each circle on the innermost and outermost ring got a little gold-rimmed bowl. I spoke aloud as I got each set up. “Crystal… myrrh… oil… spice…”
>
> “Holly and holly berries,” Rose said, at the same time I said, “raw iron.”
>
> We exchanged glances. I stood up and checked my book.
>
> “Why?” Rose asked. “Mine says holly.”
>
> I approached the mirror, book held out. We each held our books out so her book was almost a reflection of mine. Sure enough, the text, the symbol for the inside of the little circle in question and the art for the token were all different.
>
> “Grandmother?” Rose asked.
>
> “I don’t know,” I said. “I get that Molly would have moved the components, but… I don’t think Molly altered the book.”
>
> “The question is, what do we do about it?” Rose asked. “Do we each do a different ritual? Do I do your ritual, assuming it’s right? Or vice versa?”
>
> “If it’s sabotage,” I said, thinking aloud, “Which of us was sabotaged?”
>
> We sat there for a good minute, thinking. Rose flipped through her book as I flipped through mine, as we searched for more discrepancies.
>
> It was the only one we could find.
It would make more sense that the ones from Blake are the easiest to mess with. Too many possibilities really.
> I hated doing nothing, being stalled like this. It was in the quiet moments that I felt like trouble would start breathing down my neck.
>
> I turned to the bags, searching them. Not the contents, but the bags themselves. Holly… Iron…
>
> The Holly bag had a different knot. Tied tighter, more neatly. Full.
>
> “Let me see your ingredients?” I asked. “Show me the ones you haven’t touched?”
>
> Rose did.
>
> Her iron ore nuggets were tied the same way my holly was.
>
> “Molly used the iron,” I said. “I think I will too.”
>
> “Blind faith?” Rose asked me.
>
> “Grandmother…” I said, trailing off as I struggled to find a way of putting it, “I didn’t get the feeling she’s actively trying to fuck us over. It’s more… collateral fuckery.”
>
> “Collateral fuckery,” Rose echoed me.
>
> “She’s not going to sabotage us, and I can’t think of anyone else who could or would.”
>
> “You want to trust the woman who summoned a demon that’ll jump into our eyes, and left it in the attic for us to use if we needed?”
>
> “I don’t want to. I think I have to. I won’t force you to do anything,” I said. I got the lamps around the edges of the room and brought them closer to the circle, before using them to light tall candles.
>
> “I’ll do the holly, then,” Rose said.
>
> I could hear the faint sounds as she dropped individual berries in her bowl. My nuggets made a clatter.
Oh! Maybe it is tied to gender? Maybe the book corrects itself for the reader? My assumption would be for each to do as their own books tell them to do it either way.
> “More abstract things for the middle ring,” I said. Rose gave me directions to find each object she’d already set up on her side.
>
> A dagger. An hourglass. A dreamcatcher. A small silver skull. A coin.
>
> “Which catches you up to where I was,” Rose said. “I got stumped. A rose, and something personal.”
>
> “Kitchen for the former,” I said. “I can’t help with the latter.”
>
> “We need the token offerings for the Others. I’ll need a mirror in the kitchen to get that stuff, with the rose.”
>
> It wasn’t a fast process. Molasses, milk, vegetable matter burned into a clean ash, honey, meat, and alcohol. I plucked a rose from where it sat in water. A touch limp, but it didn’t matter too much.
>
> “My food is looking pretty sad,” she said. “Am I going to offend them if this milk isn’t any good?”
>
> “Did it go bad?” I asked.
>
> “No, but I’m not even sure it’s milk. It could be an illusion.”
>
> “It’s the thought that counts, right?” I asked.
>
> “I’m not so sure,” she said. “Not here, with something like this.”
>
> I put the wine aside for later before going upstairs, my arms full. Everything went into a bowl, except the rose.
>
> The basic stuff in the inner ring. The dagger, hourglass and all the rest in the middle ring… leaving me with one empty circle. The personal touch.
>
> I hadn’t brought much with me. I could probably dig a paintbrush or something out of a cabinet, but… it didn’t feel like that was exactly it.
>
> I checked my pockets, and I retrieved my keys. Joel’s keys were still on them.
>
> I felt the weight of them in my hand. They weren’t my motorcycle keys, which would have been my first choice, but… they sort of fit. Keys opened doors. There was a freedom. They represented ownership, protecting things, and the fact that my friend’s keys were on there…
>
> I didn’t like to owe people things. It was why I tended to insist on some reciprocation, paying back the woman who’d given me a drive here. Giving Joel my bike keys for his. I felt it was important to acknowledge those debts.
>
> It would do. The keys found their place in the empty circle.
>
> I set out the food as well. One offering to each bowl, for the outer ring.
>
> “Oh, this next part is fun,” Rose said.
Love the detail of these keys thing.Hope it works. Also, "fun"? I think this is a first for this story. Go on.
> I checked the book to see.
>
> Clothes off.
>
> “One at a time, or both of us at once?” Rose asked.
>
> I didn’t know. But when I opened my mouth to say so, I felt myself leaning one way, and pushed myself the rest of the way. “Both.”
Hahahahaha
> We stripped down, then sat in the center of the circles, backs turned to each other, with the mirror between us. I had to get up again a moment later, to get the book and lay it across my crossed legs.
>
> Then the ritual itself. Looking around, I was aware of how dark the room was, with the oil lamps closer. I’d heated the wax on the bottom of each candle before fixing it to the floor around the circle, and reached for one now, along with a pair of tongs.
>
> Incense, lit. Metal ore, heated.
>
> Metal ore, heated some more.
>
> Okay, it took a while to get to the point where I could see the heat in it. I quickly set it down, quiet, and moved the candle out of the circle.
>
> This was it. I glanced over my shoulder, and I saw Rose, the edges of her shoulder, hair and face lit by the candles and lamps. Our positioning made it hard to see anything else, which was sort of the point.
>
> I nodded a little.
>
> We began in unison, reading the text. There were three translations for each line, one in a foreign language I couldn’t place, one spelled out phonetically, and another with the English translation.
>
> Our voices faltered some as we stumbled here and there. For the first four or five lines, one of us would reach the end before the other, pausing a fraction to let the other catch up.
>
> We finished one line, almost chanting now as we sounded out the syllables with a kind of rhythm.
>
> The circle moved, the bowls sliding across the floor, the diagram moving beneath them. Putting another bowl in front of me.
>
> Another line.
>
> Again, the circle moved before me. I didn’t even dare look back at Rose. We’d found a stride, now, and the words were flowing more easily. The space outside the circle seemed to darken, as my focus on the inside of the circle deepened.
>
> I was in the ‘zone’, so to speak. My eyes passed over the phonetic guide, but my peripheral vision caught the English words transcribed below, and the meaning became clearer. Not the entire meaning, but the big words, the emphasis.
>
> These were the little things, the fundamental things.
>
> The bowl of incense slid from its position in front of me, but it slid down and to the right, as if it were sinking into the floor. I didn’t look, convinced that I’d lose my stride and break the illusion if I did.
>
> The dagger slid into place.
>
> There were no words in the book to recite. I could have sworn they’d been there before. The silence rang, heavy.
>
> “War,” I said, if only to keep the momentum going.
>
> I could hear Rose behind me, taking my cue. “War.”
>
> The circle moved, giving me a sense of relief, and a view of the hourglass.
>
> “Time,” I said, in unison with Rose. Something we didn’t have enough of, something dangerous, foremost in our thoughts, with its association to Laird.
>
> The dreamcatcher, a hoop with a network of threads within.
>
> “Dream,” I said.
>
> But Rose was speaking at the same time, and she said, “Fate.”
>
> The circle moved. The little silver skull. Deceptively small, no doubt valuable. It glittered in the light.
>
> “Doom,” I said.
>
> “Death,” Rose said.
>
> The coin, an old one, from an era before coins had been pressed with exact images.
>
> “Fortune,” I said.
>
> “Ruin,” Rose said.
>
> The lifeless rose.
>
> “Family,” I said.
>
> “Myself,” Rose said.
>
> Then the personal token.
>
> Somehow, this seemed more meaningful. Weightier.
>
> I wasn’t being presented with a surprise, something to associate an idea to. This was something else entirely.
>
> “To everyone and everything that’s listening,” I said. I heard Rose start speaking behind me, but my words drowned hers out. “To me, and to nobody in particular, I’ve gotta say, I didn’t choose this. I’m doing this for family, to respect them as they were in the past, when my cousins were also my friends, so the others don’t face what Molly did. I’m doing it to respect stuff in the present, because even if I dislike my cousins, I don’t want them to have to face this situation and get killed off. I’m doing this for the family that comes in the future, so my kids and all our descendants don’t have this debt hanging over our heads. Above all, I think I’m doing this for my real family. For the friends I made who gave me support when I needed it most, so I can demonstrate what they taught me. Past, present, future, and… more abstract.”
>
> I thought for a second, and then I said, “And I’m doing it for me and Rose. Because I won’t be trapped like this, and she shouldn’t be either.”
>
> The circle passed on, carrying the keys forward, more like it was going down a spiral staircase I sat in the middle of, than around in a loop. I couldn’t even see the floorboards, now. Only the lines and bowls.
>
> I could hear Rose behind me, still talking, as if she were very distant. “-than a vestige.”
Whenever it happens I'm going to point it out. Sorry for the silence, didnt want to interrupt this moment. This deep meaning sections in whatever media I see? Makes my eyes water everytime. Just loved it.
> The circle stood before me. Honey.
>
> I looked down at the book, and I started into the phonetic pronunciations again.
>
> Each of the dishes passed by me as I recited the lines. More than ritual, I was getting the sense that this was a means of breaking bread. Leaving gift baskets for the neighbors to let them know you were in town.
>
> The circle carried the dish onward. There was only the line.
>
> I kept reading. More words. I could pick up the English more easily, now.
>
> My word is bound and binding. I ask you respect it as such.
>
> My actions are my own, but have an equal amount of weight.
>
> So I pledge.
>
> The line shifted, until the white line was no longer encircling me, but crept towards me, like the divider in the middle of the highway, with my bike veering off course.
>
> The ‘divider’ hit me, passing under my knee, then my legs. It was a matter of seconds before it was passing directly beneath me. A quick glance behind me showed me that it wasn’t carrying on.
>
> Darkness, one straight white line, and me.
>
> More lines appeared. From the other circles that had disappeared, from other directions.
>
> My legs shaky, I stood.
>
> I nearly fell as a line coursed forth from high above and caught me in the shoulder.
>
> I was glad I hadn’t fallen. I wasn’t sure if there was a ground beneath me to catch me. My feet weren’t on solid earth.
>
> The lines were larger, more meaningful, and I could see further. I could see the circles attached to each line, like planets in orbit around things I couldn’t make out. A system all around me, that I was now a part of.
>
> I felt like Rose must feel all the time. Being there, but not quite alive. My body was only there because my sense of self required it.
>
> I opened my eyes, and I came back into my body.
>
> Chalk lines crossed the floor, the circles still evenly spaced around them, but they had expanded, decentralized from around me. The lines now intersected at points, and the spaces between bowls were five to ten times as far as they had been before.
>
> The bowls, as a result, were scattered around the room, each upright. The incense still smoked, but the bowls that had held food were empty.
>
> I was standing, the book on the floor in front of me. I reached down to see if there were any other instructions, and stopped.
>
> I could see birds, flapping their wings, against my skin. They moved, and the branches they were on bobbed lightly. The watercolor background shifted.
Oh? Is this from the tattoo? Can you not have a marked skin or it gives off some extra meaning or feeling to something.
> “You okay?” Rose asked.
>
> I started to speak, and then stopped myself. I had to be careful.
>
> “I… may be seeing things,” I said. I glanced her way, and saw her sitting in front of the mirror. Her legs were bent, knees almost up to her chin, arms around them, protecting her modesty. I turned and stepped around the desk, where the furniture would protect mine. I grabbed my boxers and jeans and pulled them on.
>
> I heard a page turn.
>
> “The book says you need to learn to manage your extra senses. If you don’t, they can swallow you up, and you won’t find your way back to reality.”
>
> “I think I remember.”
>
> “It suggests techniques, but you have to find what works for you. Closing your eyes, but not moving your eyelids. Or try refocusing them, and find that point you reach to where you’re trying to refocus your eyes but you’re doing something else. It becomes as natural as anything else about your body. Sometimes it’s hard, sometimes it’s easy.”
Not happy to make people do naked mission impossible scenes, dodging lines in the nothingness, they can also completely go nuts if they awaken wrong. Nice.
> The bowls were still moving, I noted. The lines still drifting. One bowl made a ‘clink’ as it reached the wall, tapping the foot of one cabinet.
>
> “How did you do it?” I asked, as I buttoned my jeans.
>
> But Rose wasn’t in the mirror.
>
> I looked around me. There were other things that were catching my eye, now. The lettering on books glittered a bit too much here and there, where the light caught it. The script on the letter I’d torn stood out in bright blue where I’d torn it, while the other half remained nearly invisible.
>
> I closed my eyes, exhaling, and then opened them.
>
> But for the chalk lines and bowls in strange places, the room was normal.
>
> I reversed the process. Eyes closed, inhaling, eyes open.
>
> Again, there were the hints of life. I could see something faint, like dust motes, spraying lightly where the room ended and the hallway began. As though the space warping effect was creating a kind of friction between spaces.
>
> When I focused on the motes, they stood out in my vision, and I could see more of them in the room.
>
> I cupped my hand to catch one.
>
> It turned, doing a small somersault before darting between the fingers that tried to close around it.
>
> I did what I’d done before, but I didn’t close my eyes.
>
> The effect faded.
>
> I turned it on again, but without doing anything with my breath or eyes.
>
> Natural.
>
> I checked to see if Rose had appeared, verified she hadn’t, and picked up the book. I finished the chapter, rereading the bit on being awakened and the sight. Now, as agreed on by men and Others, long ago, I’d see what was normally hidden from people.
You are now effectively and truly a wizard, Harry.
> Practitioners fell into categories, depending on their focus. Some carried on this route, learning ways to influence the world that were naturally in tune with their bodies and will. Some practitioners manipulated spirits, getting them to obey or infusing them into objects. There were some who dealt with Others. Many cultures, a long, long history of arts being invented and refined, it made for a wealth of possibilities.
>
> I felt more equipped, now. I couldn’t do anything but see, but I felt calmer, without as great a weight on my shoulders.
>
> That would inevitably end when I got to the council meeting.
>
> “Rose?” I asked. “Are you getting changed?”
>
> I approached the mirror.
>
> Her diagram was still on the floor. It hadn’t scattered like mine had. It was still in place.
>
> I realized I hadn’t checked what her personal object was.
Oh fuck dont tell me she put nothing down. That she didnt pledge when she should have. Blake said he drawned her out, did she fumble and assumed she had nothing to give? Your clothes, your hair?
> I searched the outer rim. Coin, skull, dreamcatcher…
>
> “I don’t think it worked right,” Rose said, stepping into my field of view before I could spot it. She was dressed, now.
>
> “What?” I asked. “You didn’t? Why not?”
>
> “It did something. I…”
>
> “What?” I asked.
>
> She looked upset, met my eyes briefly, and then looked down. “I… felt something, when I pledged my word. I can see things. But I don’t think it worked for me like it worked for you. I may have fucked up. Pledging something in exchange for nothing. Losing the ability to lie, and getting nothing in exchange.”
>
> “How can you be sure?” I asked.
>
> “I’m not. But… nothing ate my offerings like they did yours. Nothing moved, as far as I can tell. I… don’t think I can see anything on this side, because there’s nothing really to see.”
>
> “Let’s check,” I said. I walked over to the desk to put the book down, stepping over the dagger. I flipped through it. One page with an image dominating half of it. A symbol was outlined, with arrows suggesting directions for drawing it. A spiral, drawn from the outside in, then a triangle, with one point at the center, all as one motion.
>
> “First workings?”
>
> I heard her flipping through pages as well. “Yeah.”
>
> “Shamanism, movement,” I said.
>
> “You have to spill blood,” she said.
>
> I bent down to get the dagger, hesitated, and then cut the tip of my middle finger.
>
> “Jesus, Blake.”
>
> I drew out the sign on a cup that was being used to hold pens and pencils.
>
> When I looked, I could see the motes floating around and through it.
>
> I gestured, a flick of my hand, and they reacted. The cup jerked about two inches and crashed to the floor.
>
> When I walked back to the mirror, I saw Rose there.
>
> She gestured, and the book she’d chosen didn’t budge.
>
> “Try something smaller?”
>
> “It doesn’t matter,” she said, quiet, “because it’s not blood. I’m not offering anything worth taking, and there aren’t any spirits here to listen and obey, are there?”
>
> “There are other options, maybe?”
>
> “It doesn’t matter,” she said, again. “I don’t care anymore.”
>
> “Careful what you say,” I said. “Our word is binding.”
>
> Her voice sounded like it was on the brink of breaking with emotion. “Good night if I don’t run into you before you go to bed. I’m going to take a bit to myself.”
>
> I wanted to say something to console her, but I wasn’t sure what.
>
> “Rose,” I said, but she was already gone. I turned the mirror, following her, and she startled a little, almost stumbling as she nearly walked into a wall.
>
> “What?” She asked, clearly annoyed.
>
> “I’m going to check on the barber again, if that’s okay? I won’t say or do anything. I just think it’s good to check.”
>
> She nodded, mute.
>
> “Sorry,” I said.
>
> “I know you are,” she responded. She smiled back, a tight, joyless expression. “You can’t exactly lie now, can you?”
This is exactly the last thing she needed right now. Unless she is already considered an Other, and posseses some skill we aren't aware of yet, this is pretty game breaking. She would now be bound to just... being support, and carried around, giving advice to someone that, for her, doesnt really want to hear it. Her world is her own, no people, no spirits, no blood, just a mirror image.
> With that, she stepped out of my field of view.
>
> I shucked off everything, as I’d done before, and opened the door to the tower. This time, I looked, using the sight, keeping my eyes trained on the floor, using only peripheral vision to take in the circle.
>
> It was still empty.
>
> I felt a quavering in my stomach, a kind of fear. He’d seemed so vague, in the books, but now that vague thing, capable of inflicting unspecified horrors on me, it was free?
>
> I stood there, eyes on the floor, thinking.
>
> When he appeared, it was so sudden I very nearly looked out of instinct.
>
> He was crawling out of the shears. Out of the reflective surface, and into the middle of the circle.
>
> A brown-skinned man, his pale hair scraggly and long, inconsistent here and there, more baldness than hair. He was old, wizened, with a potbelly, and spots all over his skin.
>
> I couldn’t get more specific details without looking at him, and I wasn’t about to look.
>
> An old Middle-Eastern or Indian man, malnourished to the point that his stomach was swelling.
>
> He bent down, hauling the shears out of the ground. I could see the painted circle the shears had penetrated disappear, as if it were only a coincidental light effect the shears had cast.
>
> He sat down, his back to me, bony rear end on the hard floor, and then plunged the shears into his leg, like a gardener might stick a shovel in the dirt so it would stay upright for when he needed it.
>
> Barbatorem leaned over, resting one narrow arm in the space between the two arms of the shears, forcing them open and gouging his leg open wider. A foul stench filled the room.
>
> He wasn’t acknowledging me.
>
> Which I was fine with. I eased the door shut, eyes still fixed on the floor.
>
> There was a council meeting to prepare for.
Getting awakened was pretty awesome. My favorite chapter thus far I must say, mainly because I got a little emotional for the symbolism, the pledge and Rose, who currently must be suffering a lot and I'm a huge sucker for suffering "maidens". I wouldn't be such a sucker for dark souls otherwise (even though I always make buff female characters to be their knights in shining armor).
If my eyes dont fool me, the next chapter might be an interlude, or at least some different type of chapter, just like I was hoping! It was silly of me to think that an act called "Bonds" would have the meeting in it. I'll leave the last chapter for some final thoughts, but the meaning behind it seems pretty clear to me as is. Glad that I was able to give you guys this extra liveblog, to recuperate from my lateness from last week! Have a nice new year!
NEXT LIVEBLOG: Expect updates on the second week on january, past the 8th
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video title: 20 QUESTIONS GAME [ft HUSBAND!!!!!!] [L]
desc: Donovan and I found an old 20 Questions game at the store, he was really surprised they still existed!!!!! We bought it and decided to see if it could guess what we’re thinking of!
BUY DONOVAN’S NEW ALBUM, SOMBER SUNSET! [link] Donovan’s channel! [link] Donovan’s Twitter! [link] Donovan’s Instagram! [link]
Visit my online store! [link] My Twitter! [link] Instagram! [link] Tumblr! [link]
[cutesy intro title, zigzag swipes into bubble letters reading “20 QUESTIONS GAME”]
[Camera is fixed to them seated under a kotatsu (decorated in cinamaroll merch), a pastel pink couch fill of sanrio items and some out of place-looking halloween plushes. Spice is wearing a long sleeved pastel blue shirt with a fried egg on the left breast, with a little pan clip in his icing. Donovan is wearing a black shirt that says ‘VIP’ on it in yellow, with no additional captioning. His hair is more casual than usual, but still in a pompadour. On top of the table is a blue 20 questions machine, two starbucks drinks, and a bottle of water]
Spice: [waves] Hello, cupcakes! Welcome to the show!
Don: [waves at the camera, then goes back to watching spice talk]
Spice: So today, I’m with my husband Donovan! [Donovan smiles, but bites his lips to hide it] We got our hands on this little game called 20 Questions [shows the game to the camera, music in the BG stops as it unfocuses. Donovan chuckles as he tries again] [to Donovan] for such an expensive camera, you think it’d focus on what’s in front of it. [camera focuses on the game]
Don: it heard you talking shit [laughs]
Spice: [grins and sits back down] Well, hopefully it won’t be too angry, if that’s the case. [to the camera] So, this thing is supposed to be able to guess what you’re thinking of! But since it’s like... A programmed little egg... thing... it can only guess out of a few categories. Vegetable.... Mineral, which are like, rocks and stuff, I think? Isn’t water a mineral?
Don: Uh, fuck if I know. [beat] No, it ain’t. Mineral water’s got minerals and shit in it.
Spice: So waters-- vegetable, mineral... unknown, concept... and animal. Donovan’s gonna do the first one! [hands Donovan the game]
Don: ‘Kay... Let’s see... Ya think it will guess the concept a’ death, dude?
Spice: [snorts] Maybe.
Don: Concept... ‘Does it break if dropped...’ The fuck? How the hell would a fuckin’ concept-- you can’t even hold a concept.
Spice: [laughs]
Don: I guess, fuckin... Unknown. Next... ‘Does it make music?’ Fuck no. ‘Is it straight?’ This thing doesn’t know its own catagories. It’s retarded, dude...
Spice: Are you sure you clicked on Concept?
Don: Yeah. [snorts] We’ll see if it gets it. I mean, fuckin’ Akinator was a dumbshit too but it still guessed you. ‘Can you touch it?’ No.
Spice: Oh yeah! I forgot to explain the point! It tries to read your mind and guess what you’re thinking by asking you 20 questions! If it gets it wrong, it’ll try 30.
Don: You already told them that.
Spice: Oh. [bites lip and grabs coffee] It’s 5am what do you expect.
Don: [smiles at him] ‘Is it outside’ I mean, I guess it’s everywhere. But yeah...
Spice: What if it guesses the sky.
Don: This was much cooler when I was younger. Well, 20, but I was easily impressed [snorts].
Spice: It’s still cool to me! Too Bad it’s, like, obsolete now!
Don: They discontinued these, like, a year before I met you. Traded 20q in exchange for a cute husband.
Spice: Since we have one of these now, do you have to trade me in?
Don: Nah. Shit trade. Oh, the game [looks at it] ‘Is it delicious’ Yo. What the fuck. No. ‘Is is orange?’ No. ‘Dangerous?’ Yes. ‘Can it speak?’ Fuckin’... metaphorically but it’s askin’ me if it’s orange so I’m gonna put no.
Spice: ‘Do you find it in the sky?’ Maybe the concept of death isn’t in this handheld game for kids.
[SFX of the death march, zooms in on the 20q game and gets distorted. back to normal music and format]
Don: They’re fuckin’ pussies.
Spice: [scoffs, laughs] God!
Don: ‘Will it eat almost anything?’ No-- WWAIT, SHIT, go back.. Yes. ‘Does it come from something larger’
Spice: Ooh, that’s really deep.
Don: Didn’t expect it to get exisential. Fuckin... [giggles] Fuck, I dunno... Unknown. That’s an ominous fuckin’ answer too, ain’t it?
Spice: It fits the mood! I should have worn some darker clothes.
Don: You can borrow mine. ‘Do you use it in public?’ God. Damn it. We ain’t gonna get it, guys.
Spice: That’s a surprise.
Don: [absently] You’re gonna write my next song with rhymes like those, man.
[edit, zooms in on spice and puts a crown png over him and big bold letters that say ‘PROMOTED’]
Don: Flexible? Sure. Round? [massages his temples] God... This fuckin’ thing...
Spice: I don’t think you’re giving it a fair chance, though. It *is* discontinued. And from two-thousand something. It’s 2017!
Don: No excuse. Can you smell it... Yes. [beat] [snorts] [laughs] Does it..... hahaha, fu-fuck, [giggles] Does it have-- does it fuckin’ have paws... [snorts] fuck no.
Spice: [giggling] What number was that?
Don: Fuckin’ 16... Oh my god, he’s gettin’ too fuckin’ hauty. He’s guessin’ it.
[jeapordy music. Spice and Donovan lean to view the handheld]
[both laugh]
Spice: A *dragon*?! What the hell?? [laughs]
Don: Holy shit. What a fuckin’ dumbass... Fuckin’ no, you dumbshit [giggles] Now it’s asking if it has a tail. Is it smoke? No. Oh my god, dude, it’s desperate. Askin’ if it’s garbage... Wrongo-fuckin’-dongo, ya dingus.
Spice: You’re stumping it!
Don: Unless these next few questions are really specific, I’m gonna win. And I’m gonna treat myself to some fuckin’ pie.
Spice: For all this stress, you really deserve it.
Don: Don’t get snarky, sweet cheeks, I out-thought a kid’s toy from the 2000′s. Hard work.
Spice: [snorts]
Don: Living? No. Useful? Yeah, I guess. Wait-- sometimes. Okay, does it fuckin... come in many varieties? Yes.
Spice: definitely.
Don: It guessed passion. It actually guessed a concept this time, so good on it. Should I do close, or wrong, ya think?
Spice: Um... Hm... [taps chin] I would go no.
Don: Kay. No. Can liquids pass through it? I’m gonna go back and choose passion to close.
[edit #DonTheGrammarMaster as he says ‘choose passion to close’]
Don: Does it grow over time?
Spice: It’s gonna guess love now.
Don: I’m gonna go no. Is it annoying? Sometimes. Oh shit! He guesses a fuckin’ zombie. Man... he’s close, dude.
Spice: That might be the closest it can get!
Don: Located in the sky? Shit, it keeps bringin’ my fuckin’ hopes up...
Spice: I mean, heaven is, isn’t it?
Don: [in a hushed voice to Spice] Heaven ain’t real.
Spice: It might be to the game!
Don: I’ll go ‘sometimes’. It guessed ghost. Shit, man, I got it. That’s 29.
Spice: Aww, he was close!
Don: Yeah. Now he guessed lightning bolt like a fucktard. Oh shit, I won! [gets up quickly and leaves the frame, Spice watches him go, come back, and grab his coffee]
[edit shows a blurry frame of Don’s face and puts a fancy crown on it, sfx confetti, and says WINNER in bold, gold letters]
Spice: [to Donovan] Come back when you’re done so we can do the outro!
Donovan: [off-camera, far] Alright babe.
[cut]
[Spice has a slice of pie too, Donovan is eating his]
Spice: Well, that went like I thought it would! Thank you guys for watching, but sadly the game didn’t win... Join me and Donovan next time when we try out some new M&Ms!
Don: Fuck yeah. [pauses] I hope you don’t lose monetization cuz I fuckin’ cuss so much.
Spice: [laughs] I don’t, I just put a warning. [to camera] See you cupcakes later!
Don: See ya.
[outro card linking to other videos and social media]
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