The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached 6
Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5
Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)
Warnings: angst/depression and canon typical violence
Bruce sighed, absently feeling the air on his hands folded in front of his face. He stared unseeingly ahead. His frowned deeply, at a loss of what to do. Worry picked at his self control.
Something was up with Jason. Ever since the other night, something had happened between the thief and Jason. It had left him unsettled and off balance, that much was obvious. They’d all been able to see it.
Now, today, Jason had lost control. He’d been agitated of course, but Bruce hadn’t expected the outburst. Jason was usually good at managing his anger these days, at least in the family. He didn’t get physical with them anymore in anger. Except today Jason had suddenly pulled him up by the shirt, and Bruce had honestly expected him to punch him. Jason had shaken it off, but then he’d fled.
The urge to move, to do something, itched at him. He wanted to get answers, but confronting Jason was out of the question. Their truce was fragile, and it seemed every time he spoke to Jason he said the wrong thing. He didn’t know what to do except control the urge to go after his son. He couldn’t fight his demons for him. He could only try not to make it worse.
And so he sat there, staring, unseeing.
Dick’s footsteps, came down the stairs, easily recognizable: light and almost dancing to a rhythm only he could hear, skipping a step every now and then.
“Hey B, thought you were going golfing with the mayor, keeping up the old appearances and all that” he greeted brightly, as ever immune to Bruce’s mood. Or maybe Alfred sent him down to deal with him, that was also an option.
“Oh I love these,” Dick reached forward over Bruce’s shoulder to grab a protein bar from the backpack. He opened it and started to eat it without hesitation.
“Dick,” Bruce sighed, “this is evidence.”
Dick snorted and leaned on the console so he could look at Bruce. “You’re serious.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow.
Dick snorted again, of course Bruce was serious, then he pulled the backpack over and started rooting through it. Much to Bruce’s exasperation he opened another protein bar.
“Dick, they could be drugged.”
“As if you’d have let me take the first one if that was the case,” Dick mumbled around the mouthful of granola. Bruce mentally conceded the point.
“Anyways,” Dick swallowed and continued, reading the name tag on the inside of the backpack, “Danny Fenton, who’s that?”
Bruce sighed.
“The thief.”
“The Ghost!?” Dick looked up in excitement, “so we have a name now?”
“Presumably, it may not originally have been his backpack.”
“True, doesn’t help much either does it? Danny is very common and Fenton may not be Johnson, but it’s not exactly unique.”
“I haven’t looked it up yet.”
Dick narrowed his eyes.
“This has anything to do with why you’re brooding?”
Silence stretched between them, but Dick could be surprisingly patient when he wanted to. There was no point in dragging things out, it wasn’t a secret, Dick could easily find out through the surveillance if he wanted, Bruce would rather he didn’t.
“Jason was the one who delivered the backpack.”
“Ah.” There was the worried frown Bruce would have liked to avoid. He leaned down a bit to better face Bruce.
“You had a fight?” The question was posed carefully, softly, not betraying any inkling what he thought of that, in a way to gently pry the answer from Bruce, but Bruce knew his eldest son well enough to know he was already mentally running damage control options. That was Dick, always trying to keep their family together tooth and nail. There was a soft pang of appreciation in his chest he couldn’t articulate, instead he focused on the problem at hand.
“He’s convinced the thief needs help, I don’t actually disagree.”
Dick sat back in realization, his eyes flickered to the backpack and its sorry spoils.
“But he could still be working for someone,” Dick recited with a sigh, it was an old lesson. One he knew Jason wouldn’t have appreciated, not if he felt Bruce was dismissing his concerns. “B.”
“I know.”
Do you? Dick’s eyebrows asked, but he had the grace not to actually say it. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder instead, squeezing slightly.
“He’ll warm back up.”
“You think so?” He asked unable to look up at Dick.
“Hey,” Dick said brightly in a way that naturally drew attention to him, “we’ve come back from worse.” And there was that bright smile and that pang of appreciation was back, along with another warm feeling in his chest: hope.
“Well, I gotta get going, I’ve got work tomorrow. Just gotta grab a few more of these.”
And the feeling was gone.
“Dick.”
“We shouldn’t waste perfectly good food, B, also they’re W-Mark exclusives, they don’t have them in Blüdhaven.” He grinned, pockets stuffed with contraband. Invariably reminding Bruce of a younger version with pockets full of candy he’d been denied. Brat already knew he had won. Bruce waved him off with a sigh.
Dick practically skipped towards the stairs. Then he paused.
“Oh and B, if I was you, I’d check the phone at the bottom of the bag. It’s not a brand I recognize.”
With that he was off.
Bruce stared after him. Pride warred with annoyance. He’d been so absorbed in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed Dick checking out the bag more thoroughly than the cursory look he himself had done when Jason had handed it to him.
He grabbed the bag and rooted around a bit, and just as Dick had said, there was a phone.
He pulled it out, and turned it over in his hands. It was made from dark blue plastic. The logo on the back, a stylized V in front of a globe, wasn’t one he recognized. It looked old and scuffed, had actual buttons and a jarringly small screen when you were used to modern smartphones.
It was also out of power.
With how old it looked, it was unlikely cordless charging was an option. He looked at the bottom edge where there was an actual mini headphone jack, along with what he assumed was the charging port - it wasn’t a type he recognized.
He frowned and got up. He wouldn’t be too late for his meeting with the mayor if he left now, not something he couldn’t brush off as eccentric forgetfulness at least.
He could drop the phone off at Tim’s on the way. Tim would get the phone working one way or another.
Oo o oO
Danny stayed underneath the pavement long after the not-ghost had left. The feeling of almost giving in was a crawling like ants underneath his skin. The threat of almost capture was like a noose around his neck - if they captured him, if they managed to contain him, he would never get home.
Eventually the bone deep tiredness of using his powers too much hit him, and he dragged himself back to his haunt, invisibly and intangibly, because he’d had much too much excitement today. He was raw and empty inside when he dropped onto his blanket pile and rolled up. He would get food some other day. Never mind that he was completely out. It wouldn’t end his existence, just weaken him. Ghosts at the core ran on willpower, and Danny wanted to go home.
A small squeak and rustle, had him opening his eyes a crack and turning his head to look to the far side of the room. There the rat was going his trash, the packaging probably still smelled like food.
He huffed and closed his eyes again. If he got truly desperate he could always eat the rat - It wouldn’t be the worst thing he’d eaten.
next
Masterpost for subscription
Sorry, it's not the longest part this time, but we got to appreciate a few other characters, yay! Hope you enjoyed, cause Danny sure isn't enjoying himself.
704 notes
·
View notes
This whole Monaco 2022 crashgate makes me think back to Monaco 2021. Where a certain other driver also crashed, thereby securing his own pole and ensuring that Max could not improve his time. I’m not talking about the eventual heartbreaking DNS that followed 24 hours later. But before that, there were a whole lot of tongues wagging, of speculation, of suspicion.
Of course, Max wasn’t happy back then either; he made that loud and clear on the radio. But when they asked him - right after that whole ordeal, no telemetry or analysis available to him yet, in the height of his disappointment - whether he thought Charles had crashed deliberately, he said:
But Max didn’t stop there. He defended Charles further:
You know… Monaco, the track where quali is everything and where it’s impossible to overtake, where he was clawing for every point in the championship, while others were snarking and questioning Charles’ motives, where a year later he had clear suspicions about his own teammate immediately (May 29, 2022):
When it came to Checo, he also didn’t hold back advocating for quali rule changes for drivers who cause a red flag (May 29, 2022):
And yet, not for a single fucking second did Max Verstappen even consider questioning Charles Leclerc’s integrity, and he basically called you stupid if you did. This was the same angsty, red-faced teenager who raged “he’s just not fair!” on a rainy day 10 years ago. But here he is, 10 years later, defending that same boy with the stupid floppy hair because he knows him, what kind of competitor he is, what kind of person he is. He cannot even entertain the idea that Charles is capable of cheating. And this - this - is exactly why their rivalry will always remain unparalleled for me.
When Max and Charles talk about the fairness and respect between them, they really fucking mean it.
744 notes
·
View notes
Hot take here but...
Like I know this is Tumblr. This is the autism site.
So of course I knew everyone would side with Laios on this and empathize more with him but its driving me insane how everybodys saying Toshiro was completely on the wrong here and he should have communicated better and talked about his grievances with Laios WHEN THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS IS THEY WERE BOTH ON WRONG HERE.
LIKE THERES A REASON CHILCHUCK BRINGS UP HOW LAIOS SHOULD WORK ON HIS SOCIAL SKILLS A COUPLE OF EPISODES AGO/JUST BEFORE THIS HAPPENS?
like I know most of you don't like it but social cues ARE a part of society culture. Social cues ARE a form of communication.
In fact they were made to facilitate communication.
They were made so everytime Alice and Bob annoy each other they don't have to go and have a heart to heart when a simple gesture can have the same effect.
In fact sometimes better because sometimes addressing something with words makes it come out stronger/ruder than it is.
And sometimes just like you have problems understanding social cues some people have problems speaking, finding the way to words their thoughts/feelings correctly.
Specially among strangers where you don't know the others personality or how they could react to your words.
That's where social cues, that are general rules the majority of people have agreed on, work. To facilitate convivence.
And yeah there's an argument to be said about how you are supposed to know them if they are unspoken rules and the thing is YOU LEARN THEM THROUGH SOCIAL INTERACTION, through living in a society.
Just like gender norms and the like you don't learn them in school during a boring lecture where a professor lists them on the board. You learn them through interaction and repetition, throught observing your peers. Just like learning to talk and walk and other stuff. Heck, your parents and other adults around are supposed to ease you into it.
And yes, it's not a perfect system. But nothing is.
The saying 'communication is the key' doesn't refer to just talking.
Social cues and other non spoken gestures are also another form of communicating. Equally as valid as all the others
There's beauty in talking and openly expressing your love to someone. Or your grievances.
But there's also beauty in grabbing someones arm or the you picking up your friend is uncomfortable due to the turnup of their mouth or the way they stand.
One isn't superior to other. They are supposed to complement each other
Laios and Toshiros mistakes were relying completely in one or the other instead a compromising and finding a middle point.
Toshiro should have expressed his annoyance at Laios.
And Laios should have picked better Toshiros signs of discomfort.
(All of this isn't even taking into account how they come from different cultures and shock it comes with it because others have talked better about it and I wanted to focus on this. On how even if they have from the same background Laios should have also been a fault.
Hell not only social cues even talking is affected by ones cultural background. What for me is normal could come out as rude for someone in Japan)
28 notes
·
View notes
Comte Election Story, 6th Anniversary Event (JPN 2023)
I managed to get Comte's collection story during the 6th year anniversary event in the JPN version of the game. As usual, my translation skills are rudimentary at best, so this is just a rough/general sense of the contents. Rest of the translation is below the cut:
Sweet and lovely, our everyday life is irreplaceable. After becoming a vampire, I’ve lived with him forever like this. I seek out more and more of the man I love than anyone else--
Comte: Good morning, MC. You’re up very early today.
I went down to the dining room a few hours before dawn--only to find Comte nursing a teacup gracefully at one end of the table.
MC: Good morning. I managed to wake up somehow…how about you?
Comte: Actually, I just got back.
When I asked, he told me that the host of the party started talking to him all night, and they didn’t part ways until after midnight.
Comte: I was going to finish this cup of tea to unwind, and then try to rest til noon.
He runs a hand through his freshly washed hair and brings the cup to his mouth in a series of elegant gestures that makes me fall in love with him all over again. I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve been up all night, but my heart readily starts beating faster.
Even Comte seems to notice my reaction…
Comte: …looking at me like that, are you seducing me?
Comte's eyes narrowed mischievously and he left his cup behind to approach me. A beautiful beast gazed at me as if to take aim at his prey, and he drew me in with supple hands.
MC: I didn’t intend it that way but…it’s true that I'm captivated. Your damp hair and lovely gestures are so sexy that I’m at a loss…
Comte: Saying such a thing…you’re a naughty woman, MC. Even though I tried to quell my ardor with a cold shower and hot tea...I’m glad to hear it, even though I’m far from calm.
When I raised my head--having looked down in bashful embarrassment--I can see burgeoning in Comte’s eyes an indisputable, feverish desire…
MC: Ah, mm…
His soft lips playfully brushed against the nape of my neck.
Comte: No one else would be awake at this hour…though we could be interrupted any moment. Make sure to keep your voice down.
He chuckled a little before a hot sigh caressed my skin, dropping kisses one after another. He circled around the usual place he’d sink his fangs into me, and every brush of his lips made heat gather low in my body…
MC: So impatient…Abel…
Comte: …I’ve been waiting for you to give it to me
The corners of his lips lifted a little, before he buried his fangs into my neck.
MC: Mn, ah…aaaahh…
Comte: I love you so much...and whenever we aren't together, I’m starved of you. We were miles apart all night yesterday. I’ll show you just how much I missed you.
His voice--half-intoxicated with the ecstasy of my blood--was sweet and husky with his desire.
Comte: Before you, I’m always a love-starved beast.
As I gaze into those eyes burning with emotion, an electric sensation tingles down my spine.
(Ah, I’m just the same. It’s not only my heart, my body is always seeking you out too.)
MC: Me too…all day and night, I’m always thinking about you…
Comte: --Come here. Take as much of me as you want
At his encouragement and incitement, I sink my fangs into him.
MC: ah, ha…
Pleasure washes over me in an endless cascade, every sensation in my body heightened and sharp. I clenched my hands tighter through his wet hair, and dug my fangs into him greedily to devour that wellspring of ecstasy.
Comte: I'm happy to be able to share love with you like this, as a vampire.
Like drops of water moistening desiccated earth, every crimson drop fills us to the brim--
83 notes
·
View notes