Tumgik
#Ocs are so hard to write
witch-sweets · 3 months
Note
21. Art styles nothing like your own but you like anyways
And
16. Something you are good at but don't really have fun doing
:]
1: definitely Invader ZIM and Madoka Magica
While I have taken some inspiration from both styles specifically the way I draw eyes (big ol pill shapes that contort and change shape entirely depending on the emotion) and general creepy imagery (the witches and all the imagery associated with them is fantastic visual horror) I can't deny that the actual styles of the respective series are nothing like my own. Especially Madoka being an anime with lots of detail and decent anatomical accuracy.
2:OCs
I've been told by multiple people that I have really interesting OCs but I can't find anything to do with them for you see I am an individual cursed by... "Blorbo Thoughts" I have a really hard time hyperfixating an my own OCs the same way I hyperfixate on characters like Snatcher or Cyn and I have no idea why- I mean writing an OC is fun until you realize your just copying the traits from your favorite pre-existing character so you try to make them entirely different and then you have a hard time getting attached in general. And it's only made worse when said OC has a VERY obvious design inspiration and shares personality traits with said design inspiration (gonna use a fandom oc as an example but my point still stands)
This is Syi her main design inspirations are GLaDOS and the Drones from Murder Drones
Tumblr media
Just like GLaDOS she lives in an abandoned science facility
Just like GLaDOS she was the result of a humans brain being poured into a robot
Just like GLaDOS she loves to watch people solve various tests
The core difference is that the person who was poured into the computer was a mad scientist who experimented on their own heart willingly and is an entirely separate persona from the AI assistant she was programed be. She is incredibly unstable constantly switching between being a friendly pre-programmed AI and a deranged killer robot obsessed with progressing science forward. The advanced near-human sentient AI being completely aware of the actions its body takes without its control. It's a Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde scenario.
She has more backstory to her but I think you get the point
Yeah I'm good at designing OCs but not very good at writing them
0 notes
lescarnetsdehaku · 21 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hear the music, hear the pipers!
See how life is beautiful. When a life drifts away, a thousand more memories prevail. For a life that is lost, they'd live in thousand stories, and a thousand more hearts will tell them again !
661 notes · View notes
luxaofhesperides · 6 months
Note
Ghostlights where Phantom saves Duke or the Signal, and a week later (at a Wayne gala or some other place) Duke recognizes the light/aura coming from Danny
Putting off gala prep was perhaps not the best plan. Duke spent the past month insisting that everything is fine and he has it under control. Duke is also a lying liar who lies, and now he’s frantically trying to pick up his suit in time to get it dry cleaned and altered as necessary. 
Alfred would be disappointed in him, but in Duke’s defense, he had to go out of town on a mission to bust a growing drug cartel, and then spent half a week visiting a shelter for metas on the run (unofficial and hidden away) to help everyone find new homes and learn to control their powers. These things take time!
Unfortunately, gala prep also takes time, and since it’s a charity gala for funding the education of every Gothamite student, it’s not one he can slip out of. The entire family is being strong-armed into attending and not making a scene until the donation period in the first half is over. 
Duke knows he’s not the only one who’s scrambling to get ready for a gala that’s taking place in three days, but they’re not helping him, so it feels like he’s the only one messing up. 
“Sorry!” he calls behind him as he sprints through a group of people. 
He could have asked someone to drive him, but he knows they’re all busy and doesn’t want his own poor time management to cause problems for anyone else. Even though he’s sure Bruce is looking for an excuse to get out of a mandatory Wayne Enterprises board meeting that both Lucius and Tim dragged him to.
RIP Bruce. He will be missed.
The Diamond District is full of people walking the streets, sprinting between parked cars and waiting for their rides. They’re all dressed nicely, making him feel out of place. It’s a feeling that’s never left him since he joined the Waynes but it’s particularly bad when he’s left to navigate these spaces alone. Rich people and socialites are a different kind of human, one that Duke doesn’t care to understand; there’s greed in all of them, turning them heartless, and they can give as much as they want to charity but it won’t change the fact that all they do is a performance to make people like them, rather than a desire to do anything good. 
The sooner this is over, the better. He keeps going, hoping that he can still make it to his appointment with the tailor. Alfred recommended the store, then set up the appointment, so all Duke has to do is trust their judgment as they get him fitted. He’s still got twenty minutes until the scheduled time, but some unspoken rule makes it so he has to show up fifteen minutes early for better service or risk being turned away and told to reschedule. 
Duke slows to a walk when he catches sight of the store, the trying to catch his breath and look more composed before he reaches the door. He takes a moment to straighten his clothes a bit, then opens the door and steps in.
The bell jingles pleasantly above his head. The store is empty of any other customers, and the employee at the front counter looks up with a plastered on smile. 
“I’ll be with you in a moment!” she says, then looks down at her phone and types something out before placing it under the counter. A tablet comes out instead and she swipes through a few screens, then sets it down and look at Duke again. “How can I help you, sir?”
“I have an appointment? For a suit fitting. Under the name Thomas.”
She taps on the screen for a minute, then nods and gives him another customer service smile. “Alright, I’ll go ahead and grab the tailor. They’ll be out with your suit soon. Please, feel free to take a seat or browse some of our suits. We just recently got a new collection in from Italy.”
“Sure, thanks. I’ll just… be here, I guess.”
The employee takes her tablet and disappears through a door, leaving him alone in the store. He doesn’t want to sit down, not while his heart is still trying to settle from his sprint through half of Diamond District, so Duke wanders around the neat stacks of dress shirts and vests, pants and belts and shoes lined up neatly against the walls. 
He takes a moment to shoot Alfred a text that he’s at the tailor for his fitting appointment. Steph’s sent him a long string of videos online, and he’s just about to go through them when the bell rings again. 
Duke glances up and watches a guy walk into the store. He looks around, makes eye contact with Duke, then quickly looks down, taking a seat by the door.
Probably another upper class citizen uncomfortable with the fact that someone in jeans and a hoodie is shopping for suits. Shaking his head lightly, Duke wanders deeper into the store to get some distance between them so they could ignore each other more easily. It’s only until the tailor comes out, and then he can go to a fitting room and be done with this whole thing, so Duke resigns himself to suffering through the tense silence. 
How long is he even supposed to wait? He can only look at clothes in one of three colors before he gets bored. 
He goes to another rack, trying to see if he can notice anything different about these shirts. 
And then he hears a shoe scuff against the floor behind him. He tenses up, but before he can turn around, a belt is wound around his throat, pulling him back and choking him. 
Duke drops his weight, tucking his chin and gets a hand against the inside of the belt to try to push it away. His back hits someone’s chest and he’s trapped, focused on trying not to be choked to death while also keeping his vigilante abilities and meta powers secret. 
More footsteps come from behind, and a soaked cloth is pressed against his nose and mouth.
Chloroform, he realizes, familiar with the smell from Bruce’s training. But training isn’t enough to keep him from being knocked out, and he quickly slips away from the waking world, falling to the ground. 
Just before he passes out completely, he hears the employee who greeted him say, “I’m not sure how much Wayne would be willing to pay for him, but let’s start high and negotiate lower. New kid can’t possibly be worth that much…”
Duke wakes up groggily, memories of what happened quickly snapping into place. He’s too out of it still to get up, but he’s awake enough to be offended. Sure he’s the new kid, and barely even a Wayne, but he’s still worth a lot!
Kidnappers these days. So rude.
He doesn’t hear anyone around him, and it feels like he’s lying on a cold concrete floor. Basement, maybe? Warehouse? Storage unit tucked away somewhere? There’s nothing much to see when Duke is able to open his eyes, squinting bareilly at his surroundings. His arms are tied behind him, wrists bound, but they left his legs alone. 
If he could just hit the panic button on his bracelet…
Duke wiggles around, fighting through the lingering effects of Chloroform, and manages to sit up. If he strains his hearing, he thinks he can hear voices outside of the empty room he’s been left in. There’s a window high up, too high for a normal person to reach without help, but if he can use the shadows to travel through it, then he may be able to escape on his own. 
First things first: he needs to free his hands before anyone comes in to check on him.
They used zip ties on him, which is inconvenient. He’s learned how to get out of them, but it’s difficult enough without being drugged and having to do it behind his back. 
He’s feeling the zip ties bite into his wrists just as there’s a crash from outside the room. His kidnappers yell, alarmed, and are quickly silenced. That’s rarely ever a good sign. Duke renews his efforts to escape, ignore the pain in pushing against his binds like this. 
The door opens. Duke hears the small click of a lock disengaging and freezes. Then he gets to his feet, still unsteady, and prepares to ram his head into anyone who comes near him like some sort of deranged battering ram, or a drunk raging bull. 
Duke is ready for the worst: a gang hoping to steal away a Wayne hostage, a Rogue, Gnomon popping in to cause trouble for the sole purpose of getting on Duke’s nerve. 
He’s not expecting another teenage boy, who is literally glowing, to poke his head in and zero in on Duke. He blinks, then smiles; it’s friendly and sincere, nothing like the employee who helped kidnap him. 
“Hey!” he says, coming into the room properly. He’s floating a good foot off the ground, eyes a bright neon green, with white hair that sways as if he’s underwater. “Are you okay? I saw them drag you out of the back of the store and followed them, but I got a bit lost. Sorry for taking so long to get here.”
“...It’s fine?” Duke offers, trying to wrap his head around what’s happening. “I wasn’t expecting a rescue so soon, anyways. Think you can help me out here?”
“Yeah, of course!” he flies closer, then drops down to the ground behind Duke. He hums lightly under his breath, and then Duke feels a cold touch on his wrist and the zip ties are suddenly gone. 
Duke blinks, then brings his arms in front of him. He moves around a bit to make sure he’s not hallucination, and sure enough, he’s free and unbound because a random meta teenager vanished the zip ties into the ether, or something. 
“Thanks, man. Any idea where we are?”
“Not a clue. I got lost coming here, and I was following them. I don’t think you should trust any directions I give.”
“Fair enough,” Duke laughs. “I’m Duke, by the way.”
“Phantom.”
“Well, thanks for the save, Phantom. Can I treat you to something?”
“Like, coffee?”
“Sure. Or brunch, or ice cream. Whatever you want, really.”
Phantom considers it for a moment, then shakes his head. “Sorry, I would love to but going out in public looking like this,” he gestures to himself, “Is not a great idea. Thanks for the offer though. You got a ride?”
Duke pats his pockets, then sighs. “My phone’s gone. I still have my wallet, though.”
“I fly you to someplace you can call someone, if you’d like.”
“You sure? I could probably just walk out of here and call a taxi.”
“I don’t think walking around by yourself after being kidnapped is a great idea,” Phantom says, doubtfully. “Seriously, let me fly you.”
He should just hit the panic button and wait for someone to show up to get him. He shouldn’t go to some unknown location with a meta he literally just met. 
But, you know what? No one else can say they got kidnapped twice in one day, so Duke nods and says, “Sure, sweep me off my feet, Phantom. You gotta commit to this rescue.”
Phantom laughs. And then he does sweep Duke off his feet into a princess carry with a cheeky grin and flies them out the building, which turns out to be an abandoned apartment building slated for demolition. 
“Keep this up and you’ll be replacing Superman in no time,” Duke jokes.
“I think I could manage it,” Phantom replies thoughtfully. “I mean, I’m already prettier than him, don’t you think?”
“Oh, definitely. The glow really brings out your eyes.”
Phantom gets him a few blocks away when Duke recognizes where they are, and quickly directs him into Crime Alley. They land on top of one of Jason’s safe houses, and while he’s sure there’s enough security to take out a SWAT Team, that’s absolutely not going to stop him from breaking in to use one of Jason’s burner phones and eat his leftovers. 
He’s set down on his feet gently, and as soon as Phantom sees that he’s fine, able to walk and everything, he floats back up, just out of reach.
“Be careful, okay?” he says, getting ready to leave.
“I’ll do my best. Hey, are you gonna be in Gotham for a while, or…?”
Phantom gives him a tired smile. “Nah. I’m just passing through. As long as my luck doesn’t get even worse, then I should be out of here in a few days.”
“Shame,” Duke says, giving Phantom a very visible once over. He’s pretty tall, and Duke can see some muscle on him, and the tight black outfit really adds to his look. The glow that comes out of his chest makes him look ethereal and Duke is beyond glad that he got such a charming rescuer.
Phantom doesn’t blush like a normal person. He glows brighter instead, curling into himself a bit as he looks away, unable to stop the smile from growing on his face. 
“I guess,” he shrugs. “Are you really going to be alright from here?”
“Yeah, man, I have a friend who lives here. I’ll just bother him until he agrees to give me a ride.”
“Alright.” Phantom drifts away, glancing behind him before turning back to Duke. “I’ll get going then. Take care, Duke!”
Duke waves and watches as Phantom begins to fly away. Then Phantom… disappears? Or rather, his body does but Duke can see an orb of light making its way across Gotham, almost like a star fallen from the sky.
He stays on the roof until the light is long gone. When he’s finally ready to go in and steal from Jason, the sun has completely set. 
And he still doesn’t have his suit.
Duke sighs, and mentally prepares himself to other day of stressing out about the gala.
Three days of stress and last minute scrambling leave Duke in the Gotham Museum of Modern Art with Steph, Tim, Cass, and Damian. They’re hiding in the photography gallery to avoid other guests, taking a break from being polite and letting thinly veiled, passive aggressive insults slide over them.
.
.
.
“How much longer must we suffer this before we can go?” Damian grumbles, looking like he’s do anything to get his hands on a blade. Which, considering how many people tried to either pinch his cheeks are say some racist remark about him and his mother, is totally fair. Duke would just punch them, but sometimes a little drama helped get the message across. 
“At least two more hours,” Tim says, not bothering to look up from his phone. From what few glimpses of the screen Duke caught, he’s leading a Titans missions through text and clever hacking. Though it may be more accurate to call is a Young Justice mission since there’s no way any of this was authorized by a Justice League member. 
Also Anita, suited up as Empress, is there. If they aren’t on the news for property destruction and absolutely batshit wild shenanigans, Duke will have to check on Tim to make sure he’s not a pod person sent to infiltrate the family. 
“Think we can sneak out without anyone noticing?” Steph asks, looking at the emergency exit longingly.
Cass shakes her head and points to the door leading to the ballroom. When they look over, Dick makes very deliberate eye contact with them and give them a smile that looks stretched across his face.
Tim winces and pushes Duke. “Oh, something went down. Go take over for him and let Dick rest in here for a bit.”
“Man, why does it have to be me?” he grumbles even as he stands. Dick lets out a heavy breath and gives Duke a grateful smile, patting on the shoulder before shoving him out the door. 
As soon as he’s back into the main hallway, the music and chatter swell, no longer muffled by the thick walls of the photography wing. A few people come and go from the ballroom, no doubt looking for the restroom. 
Or more private places for… other things. Things they definitely shouldn’t be doing in an art museum.
He really can’t wait for this night to be over.
Duke joins the rest of the guests, fake smile on his face, and quickly makes his way to the snack table. He might as well make the most of his time stuck out here. Maybe he could even cause another relationship scandal by implying that Bruce is sleeping with one of partners when in hearing distance of a couple. Maybe even both of them. 
Bruce would go with it. It’s hilarious and he also needs something to make these events bearable.
Sadly, he doesn’t see any good targets as he scans the ballroom. A few people are dancing, while others are talking in small circles, closed off from outsiders. There’s an entire table of old ladies with glasses of wine in front of them; Duke considers hanging around them, since they confess to a lot of crimes after a few glasses. It’s fascinating. 
Also, he does kind of miss hanging out with the one old lady who’s declared herself his high society grandmother and told him stories of how she used to go to bars to find racist people or Klan members during the Jim Crow era, seduce them, then poison them and get their addresses so a few gangs she was friends with would fuck them up.
Granny Kaliasto is the coolest person ever. 
Just as he’s about to finish his last mini rolled crepe, Duke catches sight of one of the few teenagers still in the ballroom. The others, mostly stuck up rich kids no one actually likes, have already left to take over some other part of the museum to gossip until their parents decide it’s time to go home. These two are clearly not part of that crew, what with the girl being very goth and in a poofy, ripped dress, and the boy having already taken his jacket off to keep over his forearm, the top button of his shirt popped open.
They might be cool. He’s hoping they’re cool because he desperately needs some company to keep from dying of boredom while the gala continues on.
Duke walks over to them, going around the side of the ballroom, until he’s close enough to hear them talking.
The boy has his back to Duke, but the girl sees him. She immediately scowls and slaps the boys shoulder, eyes locked on Duke.
“Got another comment about my dress?” she says, voice sharp and acidic.
“Another?” Duke repeats. “I was just bored and wanted to talk to people who were my age. Sorry?”
The boy smacks the girl’s arm, then turns to face Duke. “Sorry about her! Sam is just naturally rude and aggressive. Tonight’s been a bit rough, with this crowd.”
Duke goes to say something, but the words stick in his throat when he sees the boy’s eyes shift from deep blue to an electric green. When he focuses, he can see a faint glow in his chest, the same glow he saw in Phantom.
“Dude? You alright?”
Sam looks him over judgmentally. “I guess it’s nice that I’m not being ogled for once, but don’t do that shit to Danny either.”
“Wait, that’s not what I was doing!” Duke hurries to say, snapped out of his shock. “I just… you look a lot like someone I met recently.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. What was your name? I’m Duke, by the way.”
He holds out a hand, and the boy shakes it with a small smile. “Danny. I don’t think we’ve met. I mean, I’m only here because Sam wouldn’t come to this gala without me, so her parents flew me in.”
“You from out of town?”
“Sam and I are from Illinois. Her parents are traveling around the east coast right now, and they decided to spend a week in Gotham to talk business.”
“I’d ask how it is, but outsiders tend to really hate Gotham, so…”
Sam barks out a sharp laugh. “Oh please, we can handle Gotham. Our town might not be as big and well known as Gotham, but we got our own shit to deal with there.”
“I do get shot at a lot back home,” Danny adds thoughtfully. “And that’s without the ghosts.”
“Woah, what?”
“Up for a bit of a story?” Danny asks, impish grin on his face. By his side, Sam brings a hand up to cover a manic smile, shoulders already shaking with laughter. 
This is already better than the grandma gang. Duke leans against the wall, getting settled in, and says, “Always, man. Hit me with it.”
The next hour an a half passes quickly with Sam and Danny dramatically narrating some of the things that have happened in their town. Duke listens, absolutely enraptured, and doesn’t even notice the Waynes file into the ballroom again. 
Unfortunately, they bring with them the attention of most of the ballroom, including Bruce and Sam’s parents. 
She cuts the current story about Box Ghost short with a heavy sigh. “Hold up, I need to greet the Waynes properly while my parents are watching.” She steps in front of Duke and Danny, holding out a hand with a pained smile.
Tim takes it first, giving a solid shake, and introductions start. 
Free from the rules of high society, if only for the moment, Duke leans closer to Danny and whispers to him, “Phantom. Wanna get out of here?”
Danny flinches and turns to him looking panicked. “How did you know?”
“I kinda got magic eyes. I see a lot of things normal humans can’t. Don’t worry about it. I still owe you, so you wanna get out of here?”
He watches as Danny glances around the ballroom, then back to him, clearly weighing out his options. Then he nods and says, “Know where to get a good milkshake around here?”
“Sure do.”
“I guess you’re the one rescuing me this time.”
“Not a rescue,” Duke corrects, and casually picks Danny up over his shoulder into a fireman’s carry, “A kidnapping.”
Danny laughs and waves Sam and all the others goodbye as Duke marches out of the ballroom.
“Don’t bother me for the next two hours!” he calls to the Waynes, “I’m going on a date!”
There are shocked gasps and murmurs all through the crowd. But as he spins around to wave at his shocked and easily amused family, he also catches sight of Granny Kaliasto raising her half full wine glass towards him.
She really is the coolest.
He’s definitely telling her all about this at the next event they attend together. It’ll be nice to have a few stories of his own to share.
750 notes · View notes
ganondoodle · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(OC redesign?)
so here is Shargons (he/they) possible redesign (of his humanoid form; basic, with clothes and one with the coat)
also wrote a few basic notes about him on there but my hand hurts now so i will write more about him in a reblog if theres interest ( •̀ ω •́ )y
293 notes · View notes
cavesalamander · 2 months
Text
Scum Villain fic where Shen Yuan wakes up out of a coma and realizes that he just had a very, very vibrant dream about his boy and that web novel he hatereads.
When he gets back home after observation it's so... surreal. He feels so much older now. He's practically lived a lifetime in that dream, even if only a few months have passed.
His room is so... cringe is the word he wants to use, but he can't help but find his past self endearing about it all. Except that line of thought makes... no sense at all. His past self is just him from a couple months ago.
He decides to check up on the story he'd been dreaming about and finds out that, though there were a dozen more chapters, they had stopped updating completely without warning just a few weeks after his own coma.
(The comments after his coma, a few mention him, calling him out or cheering for him finally giving up on the story. Some people even speculate he might have died.)
His old comments were so embarrassing to read, but there's a part of him that... sees his love for Luo Binghe even in these.
Wait, why is he suddenly okay being gay for this protag??
He thinks he probably shouldn't be quite so chill about it.
He wonders what happened to Airplane. He stops himself from thinking too hard on the possibility it could all have been real. That was ridiculous!!
Meanwhile in the world of the system....
Luo Binghe is flipping OUT. His husband his shizun his beloved just up and went POOF. No trace of him, no clue left behind.
(Or is it worse if he dies? The original goods died that night he qi deviated and was replaced by Shen Yuan, so there's no soul there to replace him. Luo Binghe has had to deal with dead Shizun before but this time it's... different.)
Either way, after a whole lot of everyone flipping out, Shang Qinghua seems to know a little too much about... something.
The truth comes out. Luo Binghe admits he's suspected something like that for a while now, but thats not important. He needs his shizun back, so how..?
Cue dimension hopping shenanigans.
225 notes · View notes
puppyeared · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
sleight doodley before i go to bed <3
188 notes · View notes
soothedcerberus · 3 months
Note
Erik!! I keep seeing your adorable centaur OCs and I always wanted to ask what's the story behind them??
Tumblr media
Plushi!! Sorry for the mega-late reply… 🥺I was so happy to get this ask but I didn't know how to explain my silly ocs…I will try now-more under the cut.
Dael Braam (dwarf) is a cooped up farmhand looking to see the world, but being immune-compromised from birth it took a lot of persuasion to convince her parents to let them go. They relent under the condition that she finds a capable and strong person to travel with to keep her safe… Just so happens that a strong and capable centaur knight is visiting in town…
Rembrandt (horsey) was created from a dark fusion spell by an amateur mage, who had intentions to construct a powerful warrior to do his bidding.
However, the spell cast did not result in a powerful and fully-armored warrior…. but instead a frail baby knight centaur, with only its top half made of living armor. The mage, not wanting to raise any kind of child, promptly abandons his creation. He can always try to make another one after all.
Into adulthood, Rembrandt still carries a lot of pent-up abandonment and self-esteem issues. You wouldn't know that from the proud facade he puts on though, lying about being a royal knight yet helping all those he comes across with a smile, but never staying long. When the opportunity of having a long-term travel companion (and perhaps a friend…?) arises from Dael requiring a bodyguard, his craving for companionship and affirmation outweighs his worries about her seeing eldritch elements of himself.
Dirk (beefy dragon thing) is the second (and more "successful") attempt from the same mage to create a powerful monster. Think Rembrandt's "big evil" brother. Except he's quite a bit younger. Dirk emerged fully-developed except for his wings-which remain as little nubs. Despite his brawn and warrior-appearance, Dirk was mostly a glorified errand boy, using his impressive strength to terrorize the nearby towns and their land-collecting resources for the mage.
Dael and Rembrandt meet Dirk after hearing word of a giant dragon-knight ravaging villages (and their livestock yum yum).
(I also like the idea of the mage sending Dirk to capture Rembrandt + Dael when he recognizes is his first attempt is not only alive and strong, but also quite proficient in battle.)
One way or another Dirk ends up roaming with the two. At first, Dirk is over-confident, rude, and stubborn... Overall a huge pain for them to travel with. After being shown kindness for the first time and being subject to more than a few humbling situations, Dirk allows a protective, loyal and softer side of him to emerge.
Lots of found family shenanigans and adventures occur-and yeah! This was rambly but thank you for reading about my guys! 💖
135 notes · View notes
writeouswriter · 2 years
Text
Me: I have got to write more protagonists who are just terrible people
Also me: *Blubbering and hesitating to do so like I’m about to press the mean dialogue option in a video game*
1K notes · View notes
atalienart · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
I don't know what I'm doing with my life, don't mind me. I guess I'm procrastinating writing another chapter. Do you know any similar memes for procrastination purposes?
174 notes · View notes
clangenrising · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Month 13 - Newleaf
It wasn’t fair. 
No matter how much Fogkit thought about it, she came back with the same conclusion. It wasn’t fair. 
Ospreymask had told them the terrible news just after lunch. Fogkit had refused to believe it at first. Slatekit had started sobbing immediately and Fogkit had held her tight, glaring at the messenger with the kind of anger that made her whole body shake. 
“Did she not want us?” Slatekit had managed to ask. “Did she- did she go to be with Ghost instead?” 
“Oh, Slatekit, no,” Ospreymask had tried to lean in but Fogkit had hissed to keep her away. “She didn’t want to leave you. She was just trying to do her job in a really dangerous place and things went wrong.” 
“Why did she go, though?” Fogkit had frowned. “Didn’t she know it was dangerous?” 
“She did,” Ospreymask had said with a smile that felt mean somehow, like the older cat thought she needed to be handled with soft paws, “but she knew her job was really important. She wanted to keep you both safe and stop the fighting.”
“Well she should have thought about it more!” Fogkit had decided. That had made Slatekit cry even harder and Fogkit had insisted Ospreymask go away. She and Slatekit had gone back to the nest, still smelling faintly of her, and cried for a long time. 
“I’ll never leave you,” Fogkit had sworn. “I’ll stay with you forever, Slatekit. I promise.” Eventually they’d fallen asleep, tangled in each other's embrace. When Fogkit woke up, Slatekit was gone.
She jumped to her feet and hurried out of the den to try and find her sister, her tail growing bottle brush. The evening was warm for the season, a gentle wind rustling just above the camp hollow. Someone had dragged a large husk of bark into the middle of camp and Slatekit was sitting with Barleypaw and Oddstripe, organizing flowers on its surface. Fogkit looked around and quickly scampered over to stand beside them.
“Hello, Fogkit,” Oddstripe said gently. “How are you feeling?” 
Fogkit gave him a dubious side glance and turned to focus on Slatekit. “Hey, what are you doing?” she asked.
“Um…” Slatekit fiddled with one of the flowers she had in front of her.
“We’re getting ready for the funeral,” Barleypaw said. “Do you want to help us with the decorations, Fogkit?” 
“What?” Fogkit scowled. “Why?”
“It’s supposed to be mama…” Slatekit mumbled, running her paw over the bark.
“But it’s not.” Fogkit’s brows furrowed deeply. “It’s wood.” Slatekit sniffled.
“It’s an effigy,” Oddstripe explained. “We don’t have a body for your mom so we’re going to pretend this piece of bark is her instead. That way we have something to put flowers on and sit with while we think about her.” 
“That’s stupid,” declared Fogkit. 
“N-no it’s not!” Slatekit fretted, shrinking into her fur. 
“Yes it is.” Fogkit would not be budged. “It’s not our mama. It’s wood.” 
“We know,” said Barleypaw, “but pretending can help make it feel less sad.” 
“No it can't.” Fogkit was getting angry again. “This is bee-brained, you guys don’t know anything!” 
Oddstripe frowned a bit. “Hey, let’s not say hurtful things, okay?” 
“I can do what I want,” insisted Fogkit. 
“Not when it hurts people,” he said. 
“Yes I can,” she said. “You’re all stupid bee-brains and this effeegee is dumb. It doesn’t even look like her!” 
“Fogkit, stop,” Slatekit sniffled. “I like it.” 
“Why?” Fogkit’s tail lashed. “I can’t believe you left me to come play with a stupid piece of wood. I told you I would never leave you, didn’t I? I thought you were gonna do the same.” 
“I’m not leaving you,” Slatekit protested, mumbling into her own chest fur, “I just wanted to make a good funeral.” 
“Who cares?” Fogkit said, anger boiling up inside her. “Come on, let’s go do something else.” 
Slatekit shook her head. “No, I wanna stay.” 
“Why?!” Fogkit raised her voice. “This is stupid! Stop being such a bee-brain, it’s just wood!” Barleypaw looked at her father with a worried purse of her lips. 
“Fogkit,” Oddstripe said, “This is what Slatekit wants to do. You have to respect that.” 
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Fogkit spat back. Every part of her body felt like it was on fire and she had to get it out. She swiped her claws out to knock some of the flowers onto the ground. “This whole thing is stupid! Putting flowers on some bark doesn’t fix anything!” She stomped on them for good measure but it wasn’t enough. She wanted to rip the whole world apart. She reached for more flowers but Slatekit shoved her away.
“Stop!” she wailed. “Fogkit, I picked those ones special!” 
Fogkit lunged and bit Slatekit on the paw as sharply. “Don’t push me!”
Slatekit fell back, scrambled into Barleypaw’s chest, and started to cry, staring at Fogkit with big wet gold eyes. Fogkit hated how much she saw her mother’s face there. Suddenly Oddstripe’s teeth were in Fogkit’s scruff and she squirmed and thrashed as he picked her up and dragged her away. 
“Alright,” he said around her fur, “that’s a time out.” Her face burned in fury at the indignity. 
“Let me go!” she screamed, swinging her claws wherever she could throw them, “I’ll tear your rotting legs off!” She could hear people whispering and it only made her more upset.
“You’re very angry,” Oddstripe started towards the nursery, “and that’s okay, but you can’t be out here biting people and yelling at them.” 
“You’re not my mom!” she shouted and immediately she started to cry at the thought. “You’re-” a sniff, “You can’t tell me what to do!” Oddstripe finally let her go, sending her tumbling into the nursery. She jumped to her feet and tried to push past him but he blocked her with his chest and shoved her back in.
“I understand that you’re very upset,” he said. “You’re allowed to be upset. But just because your mom is gone doesn’t mean you get to act however you want and be nasty to other people. There are still rules. We still have to be kind to each other.” 
“I hate you!” Fogkit spat, her fur bristling like it wanted to leap off of her body. 
“Okay, fine,” Oddstripe sighed. Behind him Slatekit was staring. Fogkit looked away sharply. 
“You can throw a tantrum if you want,” Oddstripe continued, “but you have to do it here in the nursery. If you want to come out you have to stop screaming and attacking people and destroying their things, understood?”
“That’s not fair!” Fogkit protested.
“Yes it is,” he said sternly. “What’s not fair is everyone else not being able to feel safe because you want to be a problem. Those are the rules. If you break them, I’ll have to speak to Goldenstar about postponing your apprenticeship or something.” 
“What?!” Despair lumped in Fogkit’s throat. “You can’t do that!”
“Watch me, young lady,” said Oddstripe with an edge of a growl in his voice. With that, he turned away and went to rejoin Slatekit and Barleypaw near the effigy. Fogkit wanted to tear the thing to shreds or storm off into the fields or hit Oddstripe really, really hard but the looming threat of being delayed kept her from stepping outside. 
It wasn’t fair, she thought again. Her mama went off and got killed and now she was getting punished for it. She stomped around the nursery looking for something to break or thrash or ruin. The only thing there was the nest she and Slatekit shared, the one that still smelled faintly of her mama. She screamed at the unfairness of it all. She fell on the ground and writhed in circles, screaming and sobbing as loudly as she could. If she had to hurt like this, she felt like everyone deserved to know about it. 
She sank her claws into the base of the wall and pulled herself along it, tearing out clots of dirt with her hind claws. She pushed herself to go faster and faster. When she reached the entrance, she rolled over and went back the other way. After a few loops, she collapsed halfway through, completely exhausted, and lay flat on her stomach. A high, keening cry built up in her chest and seeped out between big, wet gasps for air. 
It wasn’t fair. 
Eventually she got tired of crying and went to sit in the entrance of the den. She wanted to go out but she also didn’t and she knew that if anyone made her angry she might end up getting held back so she hunkered down on the boundary instead. She watched the others finish adorning the effigy with flowers and pine branches. 
Tumblr media
Once they were done, they called everyone together and the whole Clan gathered around the stupid piece of wood. Even Scorchplume and Aldertail came to sit on opposite edges of the clearing. Goldenstar said some ceremony things and invited other people to start talking. 
Pantherhaze told a long, boring story and finished with, “Smokyrose was the kindest cat I ever knew. Her absence will be sorely felt… May StarClan light her way.” There were a series of nods and mumbled agreements then a moment of silence. Fogkit huffed sourly.
Russetfrond cleared his throat and said, “She was like a second mother to me. She, uh… She never had any expectations for you, just love. Whatever you were, that was enough.” He let out a shaky breath. Fogkit scowled. She’d never even seen him stop by the nursery to say hi to her mama, what right did he have to get all sad about it? 
“Yeah,” said Goldenstar. “She was the best of us.” 
There was another long pause. Fogkit’s attention started to wander, unable to keep staring at all of these people’s sullen faces. Unexpectedly, she locked eyes with the kittypet sitting in the entrance to the elders’ den. Floodpaw was sitting guard next to her, attention fixed on the strange funeral, but the kittypet was staring right at her. Fogkit frowned.
The kittypet smiled lopsidedly and waved a paw, looking worried but hopeful. Fogkit frowned deeper. 
“Did you want to say anything, Slatekit?” she heard Barleypaw ask. Her attention immediately moved back to her sister. Slatekit glanced back over her shoulder to look at Fogkit as well. Guilt pooled in Fogkit’s mouth at the sight of her sister’s worried expression. 
“Um…” Slatekit looked back at the effigy and said, “I miss her.” Barleypaw and a few other cats nodded. 
Goldenstar looked over at the nursery and called gently, “Did you wanna come say something, Fogkit?” Fogkit shook her head. “Okay.” 
There was another long pause and then Goldenstar said, “Well, Smokyrose, wherever you are, we wish you well. May you find good hunting in StarClan.” Several of the other cats meowed their agreement. 
“Okay, Slatekit,” Barleypaw said, “we’re gonna take the flowers over to the graves now, yeah?” 
“Yeah, okay,” said Slatekit. She and Barleypaw started gathering up the flowers they had spent so long organizing and making pretty. Fogkit shook her head. What a stupid thing to do.
The kittypet was watching her again. She could tell the grown up was thinking and that made her pelt crawl. Shaking herself, she retreated into the den and curled up in the solitary nest. Feeling heavy and hollow at the same time, she curled around herself and shut her eyes. She just wanted to sleep now, to stop being here and now. 
After a while, Slatekit came inside and curled up next to her. Fogkit sniffled and wiggled closer to the warmth of her sister’s body and suddenly she felt Slatekit wrapping her paws around her neck. 
“I love you, Fogkit,” she said.
Fogkit sniffled and started to cry.
It wasn’t fair.
87 notes · View notes
redactedcrowart · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
regardless, i wasn't built to be alone
part of this series 1 ; 2 ; 3 ; 4
77 notes · View notes
luxaofhesperides · 6 months
Note
Ghostlights as college roommates and maybe some identity shenanigans thrown in would be so fun! Maybe dannys doing a little vigilante work on the side as well to up the secret identity mayhem
Danny would like to say his college career is going well. Gotham isn’t where he was expecting to pursue higher education, but the engineering scholarship he got through the Wayne Educational Foundation was just too good to turn down. It even covered the cost of an apartment! Although, the apartment is shared with another student who got a Wayne scholarship. 
Even with that, Danny lucked out and got a great roommate. Duke Thomas is chill, kind, respects Danny’s space and doesn’t throw wild parties or invite random people in at all hours of the day. He even joins Danny twice a week for study sessions!
Really, it would be the perfect college experience except for one thing: the ghosts.
Danny thought they’d stay in Amity Park. They had no reason to stray from the city where the portal was, and his parents are more than enough to keep most ghosts away. It took his friends, Jazz, and even Vlad to convince Danny that he wasn’t abandoning Amity Park and that the city wouldn’t fall while he took a few years to focus on himself. 
He worried right up until he got to GCU and walked the campus for the first time. Then he decided to enjoy the four years he had on the scholarship to get his degree and live his own life like a normal person.
To say he’s pissed about the ghosts is an understatement. 
The one thing he was looking forward to most is not being Phantom. Gotham is home to the Bats and they’re more than capable of handling everything in the city. It means there’s no need for him here and he can focus on school and enjoy going on invisible flights without worrying about being hunted down or having to fight a ghost. 
“Are you fucking kidding me,” he mutters under his breath as he feels the familiar chill race up his throat, A cold mist wafts out of his mouth, curling around his words, and Danny quickly ducks his head and hides it from sight. 
“Did you say something?” Duke asks, looking up from where he leans against the kitchen counter, squinting at a recipe on his phone. 
“Nah,” Danny lies. “Just stressing.” He gestures to the papers he has spread out on the dining table, then stands up. “I’m gonna take a walk. Maybe that’ll get my brain to work correctly tonight.”
“Got your phone on you?”
Danny reflexively drops a hand to his pocket, checking that his phone is where it’s supposed to be. It’s what Duke asks every single time Danny mentions going out, worried about Danny being unprepared for Gotham. It’s nice of him, though Danny does wish he can say that he’s survived a lot worse than a few muggers. 
“Got it.”
“Alright. I’ll try to work on dinner while you’re out.”
Danny nods and offers Duke a small wave before pulling his shoes on at the door. He grabs his keys and heads out, double checking that the door is locked behind him. 
Then he glances around the hallway, checking that the coast is clear, and pulls up the chill of awareness in his chest. Slowly, he breathes out, watching the blue mist waft out and lead towards the stairwell. 
“Wonder who it is this time,” he mutters to himself, going into the cold, concrete stairwell. It always feels a little off in there, as if he’s been removed from the rest of the world when the door closes behind him. His footsteps echo oddly in the space, so Danny chooses to fly instead, keeping his feet off the floor. 
A few flights down is when he sees her: pale and translucent, a faint blue glow around her. She’s a familiar face. Emilia is one of the first of Gotham’s ghosts he’s met, leading to the rather unpleasant realization that ghosts don’t only come from the Infinite Realms. There’s a strange sort of magic in the very foundations of Gotham that makes it the way it is, creating ghosts that are different enough from what he’s used to that it leaves him off balance. 
Gotham keeps her dead. Few get to pass on peacefully, and most have to wait until they grow weak and wither away, a second death, before they can be released from the living realm. The ghosts of Gotham are pale and weak, for the most part, and try to cling to him so grow stronger from his ectoplasm. 
Most want him to help them pass on, or give them a way into the Infinite Realms. Some want him to bring justice to their killers. Others want to kill him and take his ectoplasm for their own so they can continue their reign of terror in Gotham, unable to be stopped even in death. 
Emilia gives him warnings. It’s not always her, but she tends to be the one to draw him out of his apartment, pulling him into a vigilante lifestyle because he can’t bring himself to refuse anyone who asks for his help, and the dead in Gotham have no one else to ask.
“Danny,” she greets. “Nueve is out again. He’s going after the ghosts near Chantilly Street.”
“The sun isn’t even down yet,” Danny grumbles. Nueve, an old gang enforcer who died a few decades ago, cannibalizes other ghosts. It doesn’t destroy the other ghosts, not really, but it makes them feel pain when they shouldn’t be able to feel much at all. Taking their limited reserves of ectoplasm makes him momentarily stronger, and he uses that stolen strength to try to harm the living.
He’s been successful a few times. Danny makes sure to rip him apart as much as possible these days; he won’t be here forever, but he’s hoping that within his four years at GCU, he’ll be able to permanently stop Nueve.
Times like these, he misses having a Fenton Thermos with him. Though he’s not entirely sure it would work on Gotham’s ghosts with how different they are. 
Emilia follows him down the stairwell to the ground floor. Once there, Danny shoves his hand into the floor, taking out the backpack he’s hidden in it. He’s done this change of clothes so often he can do it in just a minute now, hiding his face and pulling on gloves beneath a large hoodie with old ectoplasm stains along the sleeves and hem. A gas mask is pulled on as well, covering the bottom half of his face, a necessary addition to his Ghost Work Outfit™ after he almost got caught in some Fear Gas during Scarecrow’s last attack. 
“Alright,” he says, “Lead the way.”
Emilia takes off through the wall and Danny hurries to follow, going invisible as he hits the streets. 
It’s still early evening, the sun not yet fully set. Plenty of people walk along the sidewalks and cars pass by endlessly, honking at each other as they try to go twenty above the speed limit. Danny does his best to avoid running into everyone, deftly dodging the reaching hands of a few ghosts who spot him as he sprints by. 
They only go a few blocks away from his apartment building, turning into a dead end alley where a group of teens (living, for once) are stuck with their backs to the wall, clinging to each other as they warily watch the man in front of them carelessly twirl a gun around his finger. 
The man makes a strange clicking noise in the back of his throat, and it takes Danny a moment to realize that he’s trying to talk. 
Still invisible, Danny sneaks around to stand in front of the teens, ready to bodily protect them. The man looks alive, and Danny see any ghosts around save for Emilia, standing at the mouth of the alley. There’s something strange about him; his movements seem just a little off, not quite as fluid as they should be. It’s not the movement of someone on drugs. It’s something that screams uncanny valley.
The gun’s handle drops solidly into the man’s palm. He makes another few clicks, then raising the gun to point at the teens.
“Bad idea, pal,” Danny says dropping his invisibility. The teens behind him startle, gasping and trying to press themselves further into the wall. 
The man’s eyes flash weakly and the pieces click into place in Danny’s mind. Nueve must have gotten strong enough to possess someone. That is… alarming, to say the least.
He rips the gun out of the man’s hand and tosses it aside. Then he pushes away the man’s arm when Nueve makes a clumsy attempt to punch him. With his chest left wide open and undefended, Danny takes the chance to shove his hand into the man’s chest, feeling for the familiar chill of a ghost. 
And then he wraps his fingers tight around it and pulls out Nueve, leaving the man to collapse. 
The teens behind him scream and Danny winces. 
Pulling out a faintly glowing human figure from someone’s physical body does not look good. It’s the best way to end a possession, but it does look alarmingly like he’s just ripped someone’s soul out of their body.
Keeping hold of Nueve’s ghost, Danny steps to the side. “You guys should go now. Take care.”
The teens don’t need any more prompting. They take off in a run, tripping over each other in their haste to get away.
Danny spares a glance to the man unconscious on the ground, but there’s nothing he can do with an angry ghost in his hands, so he has no choice but to leave him there as he flies up to a rooftop farther down the street. 
“How many times do we need to do this, Nueve?” he asks tiredly, shaking the ghost.
“These streets should be mine!” Nueve howls, trying to break free of Danny’s grasp. But he’s quickly growing weak, his energy fading, and Danny’s holding back his own ectoplasm as tightly as he can. “They may have killed me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still take what I’m owed!”
“Dude, you’re dead. There’s nothing here for you. Move on.”
“You don’t get to speak on this, outsider. You think a freak like you has an say over us? You can’t stop us. You don’t even know what’s coming.”
Danny squints at him. “What, are you planning a heist or something? With your gang of dead people too weak to lift a piece of paper?”
“We’re not all dead. We’ve got living folk helping us and we’ll be taking you out first when we hit the streets.”
“Good luck with that,” Danny says flatly, “Begone with you.” 
Without giving Nueve a chance to say another word, he rips Nueve’s head off his body. His ghost wavers, then dissipates like smoke, fading away. 
Another side effect of whatever it is Gotham does to her dead: their ghost forms are remarkably fragile and it takes only a bit of strength to tear them to shreds, giving him some peace before they reform again. It won’t stop Nueve from striking out again, gathering enough strength until he’s able to possess some other unfortunate soul, but Danny’s bought himself some time to figure out what the hell was he talking about?
There are living folk involved with whatever he’s planning. It’s probably another gang, maybe someone with magic who is able to see ghosts? Which is not great. Danny doesn’t know much about magic; even when facing ghosts who used magic or magical artifacts, his go to method of dealing with them is to start throwing hands like there’s no tomorrow.
Well.
It’s a problem for later.
For now, Danny needs to get back to his apartment and work on his calculus homework. Hopefully he can finish it before he gets frustrated enough that he gives up and lies face down on the floor until Duke manhandles him onto the couch, where he’s less of a tripping hazard.
He’s just about to get back to street level when his Fenton Luck strikes again and he hears someone land on the roof, just a few feet behind him.
“Hey there, stranger,” the Signal says. “You know, we run into each other so often it feels rude not to introduce ourselves. Why don’t you go first?”
Danny turns to face the daylight vigilante, standing with his arms crossed as if that would make him look any more approachable. He’s been popping up wherever Danny’s out dealing with ghosts, which is very not great for Danny’s plans to have a peaceful, normal college life. 
Biting his tongue, Danny gives the Signal a quick two fingered salute, then goes intangible and drops down through the building. His invisibility sweeps over him and then he’s running through the streets, hoping it’s enough to keep the Signal from following him to his apartment.
He skids to a stop in the stairwell, dropping his intangibility just in time to crash into the wall. Panting, Danny waits for a tense minute to see if he’s been followed. 
When the door to the stairwell remains closed, he lets out a slow breath, then pulls off all the pieces of his Ghost Work Outfit, shoving it back into his bag. He takes a moment to fix his hair, messy from the hood, then shoves the bag back into the floor, safely hidden from curious eyes. 
Then he very casually walks up the stairs to the fifth floor and walks down the hallway to his apartment. His keys clang together when he opens the door, and Duke usually hears it when it does, but just in case, Danny calls out, “I’m back!”
He’s learned to announce himself after a few late night walks almost ended with him tackled to the floor when Duke thought someone was breaking in.
Duke doesn’t respond as he toes off his shoes. The stillness in the apartment feels off, as if the world is holding its breath. Cautiously, Danny walks in, trying to find his roommate.
He’s not in the kitchen. The living room is empty. Duke’s bedroom door is open and he’s not in there either. 
Something cold lodges itself in his chest. 
“Duke?” he tries again, looking over their apartment again for any sign of struggle, or something terrible happening, or even a mess that Duke needed more supplies to clean up. 
There’s nothing. The apartment is as it’s always been, just with an empty space where Duke should be.
Worried, Danny stands in the middle of the hallway, trying to figure out what he should do next. It’s because he’s standing so still, surrounded by silence, that he hears it: a light thud outside the window. 
Danny turns and he can swear he sees something large moving outside the window, disappearing from sight just as Danny takes a step into Duke’s room to check on it. He rushes to the window and pushes it open, looking down at the street, then side to side, and finally up to the last three floors of the building.
Nothing’s there.
Slowly, Danny pulls his head back inside, closing and locking the window. “Must be my imagination,” he says, trying to convince himself it’s not a big deal. 
He leaves Duke’s room and begins pacing down the hall, anxiety building steadily in him. 
His phones in his hand before he can think his actions through, Duke’s contact pulled up on the screen. He should call. He should make sure Duke is okay, but Danny hesitates. Is this something to be freaked out over? Would Duke thing he’s clingy and nervous and a bothersome roommate? He doesn’t want to risk Duke asking for a new roommate next year when the lease renews.
But he’s worried. It’s Gotham and Danny just dealt with a violent, murderous ghost threatening him. Duke can deal with a stressed out, worried Danny if it means he’s alive.
He hits the call button before he can talk himself out of it. It rings on and on and on until Danny starts to panic about having to find Duke’s ghost to avenge his murder. 
The front door is thrown open so suddenly and so loudly, Danny jumps and his phone clatters to the floor. 
“Danny! Hey!” Duke says with a bright smile, trying to catch his breath. He’s still holding onto the doorknob, slightly hunched over as he pants for breath. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m totally fine.”
“Where were you?”
Duke straightens up and closes the door, kicking off his shoes. “Oh, just… out. Shopping. For dinner.”
Danny looks over his empty hands doubtfully. “No luck finding what you needed?”
“Nope!”
“What did you need? Maybe I can go to a different store and get it for you.”
“You don’t need to!” Duke says. “I just needed… tomatoes?”
Danny blinks at him. “We have tomatoes. Did you not know we had tomatoes in the fridge?”
“Oh, do we? Good to know.”
There’s something very weird about this conversation, but Danny doesn’t pry. Duke is weird sometimes, but it’s fine because he kindly ignores some of Danny’s oddities that come from being a halfa and a semi-retired hero. 
“Do you… maybe wanna sit down? Catch your breath? I can make dinner tonight if you want.”
Duke waves a hand in the air. “No, no, it’s fine. I got this. Anyways, how was your walk?”
He definitely shouldn’t talk about the cannibal ghost and his threats to take out Danny with his gang. “It was nice. Very quiet. You know, for Gotham.” He punctuates this with an awkward thumbs up and immediately regrets it, but it’s already done so he commits to it.
“Cool! Great. Just wondering, did you see anything weird?”
“Depends on what you’re asking about?”
“Just some guy wearing black with a hood covering his face. He’s been active in this neighborhood and I saw some people talk about him online. Apparently he just appears out of thin air.”
Danny tries not to wince. That’s him, alright. Gotham’s newest neighborhood menace. “I don’t think so, but there’s a lot of people in Gotham that were all black and walk around with their hood up.”
“True,” Duke concedes. “Well, just be careful when you go out, alright?”
“I always am.” He gives Duke the same two fingered salute he gave the Signal. Duke stares at him for a moment, eyes dark and almost dangerous, then he smiles and walks into the kitchen. 
“Wanna make dinner with me? I think we can figure out this recipe together. Unless you need to do your homework.”
“It can wait!” Danny hurries to join Duke, grateful for an excuse to push off calculus a little longer. He understands what he’s doing in the class, there’s just… so much work. He doesn’t even want to think about the tests. The tests make everyone cry.
“Alright, let’s get to it, then!”
“You’re in charge, chef,” Danny says, laughingly, and bumps against Duke’s side. He expects a light shove in return, something Sam and Tucker always did, but Duke goes tense instead, letting out a sharp breath that Danny is all too familiar with. “Wait, why are you hurt? What happened?!”
He goes to lift up Duke’s shirt to inspect his shirt, see the damage for himself, but Duke smoothly moves out of the way, grabbing Danny’s wrists and stopping him in his tracks. “I’m fine, Danny. I just got hit. Lightly. Minor bruising, really.”
Danny looks at him doubtfully, then wrenches a wrist free to lift up his shirt before he can move again.
Minor bruising is not how Danny would describe the blues and purples that decorate Duke’s entire side. He can see the outline of Duke’s ribs through the bruising. “How is this being lightly bruised? What hit you?”
���A car?”
“A car?!”
Duke winces, then pulls his shirt down. “I’m fine, Danny, really. It was just from a car that didn’t want to stop at a red light. I stopped another person from being hit, but the car got me pretty solidly. You know how bad Gotham drivers are.”
“Sit down!” Danny says, pulling Duke out of the kitchen. “I don’t understand how you’re still standing. I’ll get some ice, and I’ll handle dinner. You just stay there and stop pushing yourself for no reason.”
“Playing nurse for me now?”
“If I have to.”
“Would you wear a nurse costume for me, too?” Duke jokes.
Danny looks him dead in the eye and says, “If I have to. Would that make you follow my instructions? A tight little nurse dress?”
Duke sputters, cheeks darkening, and looks away. Danny grins, victorious, and darts back to the kitchen to grab an ice pack from the fridge. 
“Maybe I’ll wear one for you anyways, once you’re all healed up. Only if you’re good, though.”
“Danny, you’re killing me here.”
“Better me than a car.”
Duke laughs and takes the ice pack, pressing it against his side carefully. “Oh, for sure. Thanks, Danny.”
“Hey, what are roommates for?” Danny shares a warm smile with Duke, then pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen to start making a simple pasta dinner. 
Life in Gotham is weird and stressful and full of ghosts and heroes who won’t leave him alone. But it’s not all that bad, really. He’s happy with how he’s doing in college, and he’s beyond lucky to have Duke as a roommate. So long as Duke never finds out about his halfa status, then he’s sure they’ll be able to last all four years rooming together.
He just needs to keep a secret. 
Shouldn’t be too hard, right?
195 notes · View notes
ganondoodle · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
so, inspired by the warm welcome the captain received with that rough doodle i posted, i made an updated design for Ki'ita as well (basic and with clothes)
i removed the piercings she had bc considering that they spend the majority of their time in arctic waters i think having metal directly in your skin is a bad idea, no matter how thick your blubber is; i also gave her typical white markings a green hue bc ... i liked how it looked and makes them stand out a little more
(i will not repeat what i wrote on the post about the captain but wanted to add a bit of more info about Ki'ita herself)
(i dont have ALL of their backstory done yet but) the captain and Ki'ita worked together in another organization, one in which the father of the captains child also worked at, before being betrayed and barely managing to escape, after which the both of them founded their pirate crew (possible name is the Solar Pirates bc of their solar powered boat stuff); since the captain had her daughter shortly afterwards Ki'ita managed most of the organisational matters at first, including the construction of their base on an abandoned island they had initially fled to
over the years they invented the solar powered ships that allowed them to gain control over a large part of an important trade route, leaving normal ships (mostly) alone but attacking those of hunters and similar, rescuing demons and mutants, even some humans from them, most of which also join the crew and it quickly lead to them becoming their own little community
Ki'ita does not like to spend alot of time among large groups of people, no matter how much she cares about them, and her originally being from norther lands gave her the idea to explore, and if viable, do underground missions in those norther areas to disrupt the infrastructure the hunters had built in recent years and overall keep the crew informed about things that may otherwise stay hidden; with each of their travels her time absent from the base increased but the patience of the captain is wearing thin so its likely a serious talk is underway on Ki'itas third solo mission she nearly died due to entanglement in abandoned nets made by hunters from an unknown material that she could not break, the massive scars on her tail especially come from that, only surviving bc the date they were supposed to return to the crew had passed and the captain grew to worried about her and made the entire crew rush into an emergency search, including the captain herself and her toddler, who were not suited for the cold climate just like the rest of crew, taking a huge risk that Ki'ita still feels ashamed of for causing; they stayed within the base for a whole year afterwards, not just to recover but also as a silent apology, taking time preparing herself to ensure theyd not get into a situation like that again
(before departing on their next mission the captain gifted her a sword with the blade made from the material of the net, a wooden handle, bc of the cold, and a blue wrap around it reminiscent of the captains striking blue teeth; a reminder of what had happened, a means to defend herself when their strength and teeth are not enough, and also a promise to always return again)
the oldest members of the crew know Ki'ita well and treat her like an old friend, among the newer members she has more of a .. cryptic status, the mysteriously absent vice-captain who only appears every few months or so out of thin air, throws a big party, sleeps for a few days and then vanishes again, the only hint to when they will return soon again being the captain getting noticably grumpier
(OC art, Ki'ita, she/they)
424 notes · View notes
muscariii · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I don't have much time to draw because of school but I managed to do some lazy drawings today.
I actually wanted to make something with colors and stuff but I just can't find any time to do that. At least this week since I have a lot of studying on my head right now. But maybe I'll manage to draw more on the weekend!!
So for now here's a usual Nerevar and Rasha thing :3
They're really fun to draw for me. I feel like I keep making both of their hair longer and longer so uh... Whoops :T
68 notes · View notes
wexhappyxfew · 1 month
Note
hiya shannon hope youre doing well 😚 now ill let you pick the pairing because i actually haven't watched mota yet (which is treason and all, i know), but can't miss out on a chance to read some of your amazing writing. i thought these prompts were interesting:
3. “Tell me to leave and I’ll never bother you again.”
29. “Don’t lie to me. I was there.” 
xoxo hope to hear back from you soon and can't wait to read!
HI FRIEND!!!! i hope you're doing well toooo!! thank you so much for stopping by! awe it's no worries, you know that!! i always say watch when you can or want haha!! :D you're too kind, friend, thank you for the love and support and i hope it lives up to it!!! i picked my OC Judy Rybinski and who she is ~eventually~ paired up with, a fav of favs, Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal, who i have a few more pieces for as well posted and coming in the next few days!! and, i went with the first prompt offered (#3) as it fit the vibes more here! these two have my HEART! and i hope this piece captures that too :) (also: i will absolutely be getting back to you soon my friend hehe 🥹🫶✨)
let it linger
Tumblr media
(a/n): for the judy x rosie girlies again - giving you all the soft, slightly awkward and nervous vibes there is, with a hint of that eagerness and excitement as we near the end of the war! and judy gets a promotion (which she deserves and earns), so please enjoy that! plus, enjoy the slight hint of the imagery of a swan above! they're beautiful!! :D also....just incase i didn't mention it anywhere else (and thinking back i probably didn't) after some of the silver bullets girls get split up, judy gets a position as rosie's turret ball gunner on rosie's riveters!!
"Lieutenant Rybinski, that has a ring to it."
Lieutenant Judy Rybinski. In her eyes, it really did. Lieutenant Rybinski - with her new crusher cap, A-2 jacket fit to the length of her arms and rather tiny form, the Lieutenant bar on her lapel, and the new level of standards she seemed to hold herself to. Judy looked up from underneath that shiny new crusher cap at Rosie Rosenthal and grinned.
"You think?" she asked him with a chuckle, crossing her arms as they approached the mess hall, "I'll be honest, Rosie, I didn't expect it. They don't do that sorta thing real often around here it seems. I know Francis just got the big promotion, but I don't know…." Judy shrugged, "a ball turret gunner doesn't see that sorta stuff." Rosie watched her for a moment, before breaking out into a wide grin and stopping in the path and turning to her, his hands placed firmly on his hips.
"A ball turret gunner like yourself deserves to see that sort of stuff." he said, and then offered her a wink to which she gave him a look. Judy gasped.
"You know something, don't you," she said, leaning forward and popping his shoulder lighting with a finger of hers, "c'mon, spill, what is it?" Rosie watched her and shook his head.
"I just think that Operations really has seen the lengths you've gone in the line of duty," Rosie said with a gentle smile, "your leadership skills, your capability to remain calm under pressure, stepping up to the plate. How you had to come up outta the ball turret and take on tail gunner for the second half of a mission. That sorta stuff doesn't just happen. Some people panic, some stall up. You jumped right in." Judy watched him.
"How would anyone know….?" Judy started, trailing off after his spiel, only to grin like a loon and drop her jaw, when she saw him grinning like he always did.
"It was YOU." Judy managed in a mixture of gasping-whispering-and-excitedly-yelling, before placing her hands on her reddening cheeks and grinning, "You didn't have to!" Rosie laughed lightly and shook his head, before stepping forward and placing his hands on her shoulders comfortably, like they'd been there all her life, his presence both warm and kind.
"I know how hard you work, Judy," Rosie said quietly, the feel of his gaze on her both pleasant and peaceful all at once, "I got mixed up in a conversation with Jack Kidd, he brought up the Silver Bullets, and….well, I couldn't help but bring you up." Couldn't….help? Judy was probably red in the face, but she didn't mind. He couldn't help but bring her up?
"You got that look on your face," Rosie said quietly with a chuckle, "I know you don't like the spotlight, but when people do what you've done, you deserve it." Judy stared at him, fighting back a bit of pent-up emotions that have been living inside her body for months. Despite her feelings towards Rosie as a whole (which had continually grown deeper without fail and had been increasingly harder to hide), and her emotions towards the war (which were ever-present), having someone like himself, taking away her emotions towards him, recognize what she's done, and what her sacrifice has been, made her want to have a breakdown.
"People don't usually tell me that sort of thing," Judy said softly back to him, smiling up at him with her rosy cheeks, "so thank you." Thank you for seeing me, like you always do, Judy thought to herself. Rosie smiled at her genuinely, and then squeezed her shoulders.
"It's always my pleasure, Jude, you know that." Rosie said tenderly, before dropping his hands from her shoulders and crossing his arms, nodding to the mess hall, "Ready for breakfast?" She nodded, but felt rooted in place, eyes somewhere towards the ground.
"You okay?" he asked her, reaching forward and bumping a pointer finger lightly under her chin as she looked up towards him, his hands going back to his hips. The longer she stared at him, the more she couldn't contain her thoughts inwards.
"You're really amazing you know?" Judy managed out, with a nod, "And you've probably been told that a million times, by a bunch of guys, as well as a bunch of girls wanting to have your last name, but, genuinely Rosie, meeting you has meant everything to me. Please know that." Rosie watched her, his turn to get rooted in place as a silence fell around them. Judy's cheeks grew a darker red just as the realization of what she had said to him and she suddenly wanted to take it all back with that look on his face.
"I…" Judy started, "listen, tell me to leave and I'll never bother you again, but, you do so much for me and everyone else around you and you put so much of yourself out there to better others and help other people. And you make sure people are cared for and comforted and doing well and are healthy, which damn, I barely look out for my own health, and you just…" Judy fell at a lose for words as Rosie stood there soaking in her jumbled mess of speech that he was definitely trying to decode in some sort of way. There she goes again, just saying whatever came to mind, right in front of Rosie Rosenthal, her emotions edging her on even more so in recent days it seemed.
Even if all he saw were friendship between them and they'd never be able to explain what all those touches and lingering looks were for whatever was to come, he'd know that she thought he was incredible and someone who has genuinely changed her life. He'd know that for as long as he lived, even it meant embarrassing herself until the point she was red in the face. She noted his slightly red cheeks and the wheels working in his head to speak.
"Thank you, Judy," Rosie said quietly with a nod, catching her gaze as she stared at him, whatever was swimming in his eyes enough to get a smile on her face, at the way he seemed breathless enough without words to stand there in front of her and look at her like that, "it's the right thing to do. Here. Right now. In the world. Help people. Make them know they're an important part in all of this. I….wow, bit of a loss for words, Jude." Judy watched him and then smiled grandly up at him.
"You take a minute to catch your breath," she whispered, before stepping forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, where she might've lingered a little longer than needed, but the spark of connection with that gentle touch was enough to keep her boldly functioning, "I'll meet you at the mess hall." Pulling back she looked at him and so up close, she could see every bit of his eye that you never saw from far away, and it made her smile softly within his general gaze, enough to keep him smiling, himself.
"Even if there are a lot of girls who'd like my last name," Rosie started, referencing her rather bold display of emotions, "none of them have ever kissed my cheek like that."
Judy froze up as she stared at him, her heart pounding so loud in her ears, she swore she had imagined that last part. She stared at him, swallowing her words and thoughts to try and get her body functioning and looked up into his eyes again.
"Maybe because none of them ever had the courage to really get to know you," she whispered back, holding his gaze like a sun to the moon, "and know how much you deserve to be loved like that." And then Judy was stepping away from him, trying to tell herself not to regret every word she was saying, spilling out of her mouth in that moment.
They could go down any day of the week - she was done watching her friends fall in love and then get their hearts torn out of their chests. She was done with the war getting what it wanted. She was tired of people letting the war take away the one thing that was ever-present. Love. Even if it meant a few bold, rather embarrassing forms of half-confessions and awkward, nervous laughter.
And Rosie.
Rosie deserved to know. She just had to find the courage to tell it straight to his face all these feelings she had wrapped up deep inside of her. For now, she'd let those thoughts linger longer.
Maybe.
46 notes · View notes
exotic-inquiry · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Day seven: Swords
227 notes · View notes