#the people rabid for the phantom
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Catherine Zeta-Jones as Sala in The Phantom (1996)
#the phantom#filmedit#catherine zeta jones#czetajonesedit#zombooyah#mygifs#the people rabid for the phantom
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Prompt 262
Pondering Ghosts are Dragons, and just rotating each design in my head I have for them. That is the ghosts we see in the show more than just once or twice lol. Just pondering each of them and potential types and descriptions and how the people of Amity see them, as they’re used to the dragons around, vs say someone from Outside, crossover or no, who are Not used to the maybe slightly eldritch undeath interdimensional dragons around everywhere.
That is not normal for other people.
To the Amity Parkers? Boxy is simply a chonky dragon with small boxy wings and covered in blue scales. To people just coming into the city, it’s like seeing a giant komodo dragon when you’re just walking home- not something you exactly want to see and something that is dangerous.
Kitty’s and Johnny’s weekly relationship tussle? Par for the course really. But to visitors? Two giant wyverns tearing into each other, shimmering greens that could be scales, could be tendrils, and shadows lengthening and thrashing like a living beast all its own.
And this is just the small dragonlings, not even beginning with larger ones like Pandora and Fright Knight, chill as they may be.
Outsiders don’t understand that they’re more than just animals. Amity is used to this, but people who have no clue what’s going on? They don’t.
They call the police, the heroes, the government, for help, for answers. And that? That the GIW can use.
#DCxDP#DPxDC#Prompts#Danny Phantom Crossover#Ghosts are Dragons#Guys in White#Of course the GIW quickly find out they can’t just spirit the ghosts away either#Because people want ANSWERS and the biologists & cryptozoologists are Both going RABID#Not to mention it’s hard to even get into Amity with how the locals *Hate* them along with the dragons#Several heroes & rogues enter the city to investigate on their own#... right on a day Pariah is visiting his adopted ghostling#GIW might make an itty bitty mistake there…#Danny is not ghost king#Pariah Dark x Clockwork#CW is long sinewy serpentine dragon with many small legs & large wings#PD is big bulky western-style dragon w/ forward facing horns & mostly dark scales#Danny is tiny noodly western dragon w/ same swirl patterns as CW & dark scales as PD#Every other ghost assumes he’s bio theirs & they’re pretending he’s not because the Observants#Yes there is potentially 2 or 3 storylines happening at once lol#Fright Knight is Pariah Dark’s brother#He lacks wings but has big gliding fin-webbings & blade tail
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But Daddy I Love Him
summary: You and Joel shouldn't be together. According to the people in Jackson, he's a bad, cruel, crazy man, and yet... he's all you ever wanted.
Warnings: smut (unprotected p in v), angst, blood, physical fight (?), happy ending (cause of course)
a/n: ive been obsessed with this song since it came out, please just go listen to it
Now I'm runnin' with my dress unbuttoned
Screamin', "But, Daddy, I love him
I'm havin' his baby"
No, I'm not, but you should see your faces
I'm tellin' him to floor it through the fences
No, I'm not coming to my senses
I know he's crazy, but he's the one I want
— — —
"fuck"
"god"
His breath, his hands, his beard, his mouth, his cock
Him
He was all you could feel, he was all that existed,
nothing but him and his intoxicating aura, his manly mist, his sweaty body his strong arms,
Him
Joel Miller
The man you should not want, the man you should be terrified of, that you should run and hide from,
the terrible, crazy, Joel Miller
The same one everyone told you to stay away from, your friends, your family, strangers, the entirety of Jackson
And yet he was the only man you ever really wanted, really needed.
"I missed you so much"
Even your own voice was nothing, it was a phantom of something that existed long ago, something that stopped living every time he was near, every time he would make everything dissipate into thin air with just his presence.
"I missed you too baby girl" he grunted,
oh how he grunts, how he groans, how he moans
nobody does it like him
"missed you so fucking much darlin'"
His voice felt like a prayer, like a sweet invocation to the sky up above, to whomever would listen,
one that countered completely what he was doing, the nothing but sinful way he had you up against the wall, his hands gripping your waist as he thrust his cock in and out of you so fast you might just break.
The bed was right beside you, but that didn't matter, that's how you were
You and Joel,
like animals, like soulmates, like desperate, desperate lovers
Your minds didn't work the same when you were near, they didn't work at all, one could argue
But isn't that was love is after all?
"oh my god" you moaned, hiding your head in the crook of his neck as one particular deep thrust made you see stars
"I know darlin'" he cooed, only going faster, deeper "I know"
"Joel" you cried, biting down on his skin "f-fuck"
It had only been two weeks since you last saw each other, but it might as well been decades.
They had sent him away.
Nobody liked him in Jackson, not once they'd learned his story, the terrible things he'd done
And when they found out about you... not even his own brother could protect him.
So they'd exiled him.
But they couldn't keep him away forever, not when he had something to come back for.
"god fuckin' damnit babygirl- you feel so fuckin' good"
Your moans only got higher, your nails clinging to his back like a rabid cat.
"perfect lil' pussy" he growled, his hot breath on your sweaty neck pulling shivers from your body "Perfect fuckin' girl"
"oh fuck" you whined, tightening your legs' hold onto his waist
"you feel so good too Joel" you promised, breathing heavily in synch with him "You and your perfect cock"
He groaned so loud he sounded like an animal
"might want to keep that pretty mouth shut if you want this to last, sugar"
You didn't know where you found the strength to laugh, but you did
"you're gonna come too soon, old man?"
His hold on your waist pulled you even closer, as you raised your head to look him in the eyes
God, he was handsome
"just might, if you keep saying stuff like that"
but before you could tell him how it wasn't fair, how he did it all the time and you couldn't do it even once, his thumb was on your clit and your eyes were to the back of your head.
"no" he stopped you before you could hide your face from him again "I want to see you"
And as warmth filled your chest and your forehead fell to his and pressure built in your belly, he murmured:
"good girl- come for me, just like that- Jesus Christ-"
And so you did,
You came and moaned and cried, and it didn't take much before he was doing the same, pumping you full of him until he'd given you every single drop.
And then you kissed, he kissed you slowly and gently and in the same exact way that made you fall for him the very first time.
"god I missed you so much" he breathed once you leaned away
A smile from ear to ear took over your face and all you could do was kiss him again
"me too baby" you murmured, as he helped you to your feet
You both smiled like silly idiots as you dressed again,
but neither of you could resist being in each other's arms, so you didn't.
He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head once you rested it on his still bare chest.
You didn't get how anyone could hate him,
You swore they wouldn't, they wouldn't if they only got to meet him, the real him, not the idea of him they had painted in their minds.
And so you hummed, breathing him in, clinging to him as he clung to you
Up until the very moment it all went to shit
Again.
"hey honey I just got back I-"
It was sad really, the fact you'd seen this scene before.
The disappointment in your dad's eyes, the fear turning into primal rage inside his iris, his fists tightening, Joel taking a step back
A deja-vu had never felt quite so devastating
"Arthur" Joel tried to speak, but your dad was already on him, his fist had already connected with his cheek
"What did I tell you!?" another punch "Last time was just a fucking warning!" and another
Joel was on the ground
He wasn't going to fight back.
This wasn't how he wanted to handle things
Not this time
Not with you
"I'll kill you this time you fucking disgusting pervert!" you swore you heard Joel's cheekbone crack with another hit "How dare you!?" your dad growled, Joel's bloody face beneath him "In my own home- how dare you take advantage of my daughter you fucking- pig!"
Your eyes were overflowing with tears, the top buttons of your dress were still unbuttoned, and Joel's chest was rising and falling too slowly, much too slowly
"dad"
But he kept going
"dad stop!"
you grabbed his wrist, and the moment his eyes met yours it felt like the word stopped, like it had frozen over.
You caused all that anger, all that pain
But if he just would listen to you...
"y/n"
"dad" your voice trembled as much as your fingers "dad I love him"
You saw his heart break. For all the wrong reasons,
for his poor daughter who was taken advantage of, for the naive, innocent daughter he couldn't protect. For the daughter that didn't exist. Because that wasn't you, that wasn't how things had gone.
"you don't know what you're saying"
His voice was harsh, cruel, cold.
"But I do!" tears ran down your cheeks as you glanced down to where Joel lay, to the cuts and blood coating his face "I love him dad, I really really do"
"You don't know who this man is" he said "The things he's done..." he said with a snarl, as if disgusted, as if the rage was surging from his chest all over again
"I know" you whispered "I know everything- He told me all of it dad, please" you begged "Please just let him go, let him talk"
"I don't need to listen to a word that comes out of this fucker's mouth"
"but dad-"
It was like a bomb went off
"HE'S 56!" he yelled, his grip on Joel's neck tightening "he's fifty fucking six y/n! You just fucking turned 21!" his voice bounced off the walls like thunder, "You're not even half his age!"
"who cares!?" you screamed too now, only your voice was interrupted by sobs
"I DO!" he roared "Your mom would!" his eyes were wide with urgency, and although he was mad you could still hear the care behind his words "He might have made you think this is ok, that he loves you, but trust me none of it is true" he sighed "He's using you honey, I know it's hard to understand right now, but you- you're young- you don't know-"
Your hand left him, shaking as it went to wipe your tears.
"dad" you said more firmly now "I might be young but I'm not stupid"
"y/n-"
"no" you stopped him "Dad this is the first time I've ever felt this way, like I cannot breathe when he's not close, like I need him more than I need air" you swallowed thickly "And I know- I know it's hard to understand, I know it's easier to just go with the narrative in your head, of the fragile little girl and the big creepy guy, but this-" you took a shaky breath as you glanced at Joel again
His eyes were barely open, he was barely conscious
"This isn't like that" you promised "I- I love him, and he loves me"
"Honey-"
"I'm not done" you stopped him again "I'll never forgive you dad" you shook your head, simply stating the truth "I'll never forgive you if you do this, if you don't even give him a chance to explain, to tell you how things really are"
You saw the conflict in his eyes, the searing pain caused him to hear such words from his daughter, to hear her beg and threaten and speak up all at once,
and yet... yet he couldn't shake off the honesty, the hope lacing your words, your voice, sparkling from your eyes
And so he did the only thing he could,
he agreed, he agreed to hear the full story.
___
That was two years ago now,
and sometimes you wondered if it all was just a bad dream, if your imagination had tricked you into believing some silly made-up story,
but the glares from the people in town always seemed to refresh your memory.
And yes, maybe you would have liked to live a life without people whispering ugly things about you behind your back every day... but then maybe, maybe it was all worth it
For this.
For the child growing in your belly, for the veil on top of your head, for the sound of your dad stifling his sobs beside you,
for the image of Joel waiting for you at the end of the aisle, for the tears in his eyes, for the smile on his face,
for him,
for you,
It was all worth it,
Yes, yes it definitely was.
— — —
Now I'm dancin' in my dress in the sun and
Even my daddy just loves him
I'm his lady
And, oh, my God, you should see your faces
Time, doesn't it give some perspective?
And, no, you can't come to the wedding
I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want
#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fluff#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#tlou#tlou hbo#the last of us#joel miller x fem reader#but daddy i love him#taylor swift
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HEYYYY! When I tell you I pounce at every update. You’re legitimately my favorite Bungou stray dogs blog. Can I request Dazai and Fyodor with a famous s/o? I think it’s be interesting to see how they’d interact with it all 🫶🏾💕🦋✨
Thank you so much, lovely! I had so much fun writing these. I hope you enjoy!
Characters: Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu
Contents: gn! reader, possessive behaviour, Fyodor being a little shit
Fyodor Dostoevsky
This would be…interesting. I’m usually of the opinion that Fyodor would want to squirrel his s/o away and have them all to himself, away from all the corrupting influences of the world, but this is not necessarily a given. He’s more than capable of dating whomever he pleases, as long as he is in control of almost everything.
It’s possible that he may have targeted you deliberately for a relationship, using you and your fame as a stepping stone in some scheme of his. While he certainly didn’t expect to catch feelings, he’s not going to admit failure on his part or deny himself something that he wants.
He’s extremely camera shy. Fyodor’s been involved with (and betrayed) most of the Gifted organisations and governments in the world, and he’s, y’know, a terrorist, so he can’t exactly show up on the red carpet on your arm.
This doesn’t necessarily set off alarm bells in your mind. As far as you know, he’s some Russian tech genius who just doesn’t want his identity made public. He’s not the celebrity couple type. You’re more than willing to put up with this if it means you get to spend time with those violet eyes and cunning hands.
Your fans are a little obsessed with finding out who your lover is, and there’s a paparazzi who are on the hunt to get a photo of him and flog the picture for big bucks. But there’s only been a few sightings of him, and never anything concrete:
A pale hand reaching out of the limousine to take your hand after you’re leaving an event.
Someone in a dark coat standing next to you, though you can’t see their face.
A photo of you having dinner with a dark-haired man, shot from behind so no one can see the man’s face.
Fyodor’s a master at covering his tracks, whether in real life or digitally, so he’ll remain your phantom boyfriend. I think he leaves these little breadcrumbs out in the world, when he could easily erase them, because he likes your fans knowing that you’re not theirs, you’re his.
The online trolls that will be present on any famous person’s social media should beware Fyodor’s wrath. He’s cold, calculated, and amoral, and he won’t hesitate to retaliate in petty, yet devastating ways, like ruining their credit, framing them for a crime, or even just airing their dirty laundry to all their friends and family. The best part? They won’t even know who or why it happened. But it happens enough that you get a reputation for having a scary fanbase.
In reality, it’s all just one man who dabbles in cyber-crime as a hobby. Heh.
If you’re in movies, TV, or singing duets where you have to pretend to be with someone else, he won’t act crazy jealous. That’s far too brutish. But you will notice an uptick in his possessive behaviour. He always has a hand on you in one way or another, paying more attention to you, etc. Anything to bring your attention back to where it belongs: on him.
If you ever ask him outright if he’s bothered by you being famous, he retorts:
“No, my dear. It amuses me, to think of all those people looking at you, crying out for your love and attention, wanting to be you. And at the end of the day, you come home to me. I have something that none of them ever will~”
Dazai Osamu
At first, Dazai would probably have significant reservations about dating someone famous. A brief fling, sure, but a full relationship is something that’s gonna give him pause. He’d be that way with anyone, but even more so when you spend so much time in the limelight.
He’s not worried about your rabid fans digging into his past and finding out about him being a Port Mafia executive. That shit is too well hidden for even the most determined netizen to find, thanks to Mushitaro’s Special Ability and Ango’s cover-up work.
The simple fact is, Dazai’s a loner.
You’ll see him interacting with the members of the Armed Detective Agency and seeming to be the life of the party at rare points, but if you pay close enough attention, you’ll notice he slips away a lot. Sometimes he’s gone from the office for a day or two. Once all the action is said and done, he’s vanished like a ghost when everyone is too busy celebrating. Being around other people is exhausting for him. If his character is anything like the main protagonist of No Longer Human, it’s because he spends so much time playing the clown and wearing a mask. Other people are difficult for him to interact with.
Being on the arm of someone famous brings a lot of attention his way. Sure, he smiles and laughs about all the guys and girls suddenly swarming into his DMs, trying to get his attention. (More than usual, that is.) But he won’t enjoy it if he can’t go anywhere without being mobbed, or if people expect him to be on TV with you.
His good looks will get him a lot of modelling and movie role offers, most of which he’ll turn down. The only ones he accepts are for…malicious reasons.
“Dazai, you’ve turned down every single offer that comes your way. Why’d you take that hair care one?”
“Oh, that’s very simple, bella. It’s because I knew they’d paste it all over that billboard that faces Chuuya’s penthouse windows. Now he has to look at my face every single day.”
“You’re evil.”
Dazai’s not the jealous type, really, so it won’t bother him in the slightest when the gossip rags publish lies about you flirting with this or that J-Pop star, or when your fans profess their love to you. He’ll pretend to be jealous sometimes, but that’s only because he wants to be dramatic and have you baby him.
He gets a lot of his own fans, even though he doesn’t really want them. It doesn’t stop him from dialling up the charm and sending them swooning, just for shits and giggles. Mostly, he’s sly enough to avoid them.
They figure out where he works and turn up to the office, much to Kunikida’s chagrin.
#yokohama pound#bungou stray dogs#bsd headcanons#bsd imagines#dazai osamu#dazai x reader#fyodor dostoevsky bsd#fyodor x reader
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AND NOW: Part Two! One might think I would look at the fic at some point and check what chapter we’re on, but I will not! Mostly for “but that takes effort” reasons but also because by the time I get back here I WILL have forgotten!
Part One of this chapter:
First Chapter:
———————
Well You Did Get Down On One Knee (part 2)
Tucker, Conner, and Tim had actually gotten through another round of Spiderheck in between the rabid buzzing of Tim and Tucker’s phones.
Conner had the good sense to mute his and toss it behind the couch… after sharing the “good news” of Timblr with the Young Justice chat. Without which his phone probably wouldn’t have been buzzing at all.
He regretted nothing, despite Tim’s alternate pouting and threats. Tucker was pretty impressed, and pretty sure that it wasn’t just for the guy’s good looks this time.
Finally, after the fourth time Tim’s ringtone changed itself and blasted at full volume (making Tucker completely drop his controller), the Black tech gave up, sighing heartily and dropping his head into his hands.
Not least to hide the sudden wicked grin on his face as an idea struck. Because yeah, sure, he could help Tim try and unhack fucking Oracle on the sly, or… they could remove the distraction another way.
(Tucker wasn’t a thousand percent ungrateful for the distraction; he was pretty sure even without the merry buzzing of his social life burning down around him he’d have had a hard time concentrating on the game.
It just plain wasn’t fair; Conner was too fucking hot, and so earnest, and excited when he was doing well! All the little shouts and exclamations, the broad grins, Tucker was really beginning to doubt his own demisexual nature.
Although, to be fair, it wasn’t like he actually wanted to… interact while Conner was being cuter than Cujo with a rubber bone. Just. It was hard to think about anything else when he could be appreciating all… that instead.
At least while Tim’s ass was being blown off by at least three separate group chats, Tucker’s floundering was less embarrassing.)
Tim gave him a consoling pat on the back while Conner whooped in victory, probably trying to comfort Tucker in the loss. Tucker let him for a moment, running a couple quick calculations in his head.
Because yeah, he’d never got around to asking Danny to ecto infuse any of the Waynes’ tech; not the batcomputer nor the gaming consoles, but. Well. They’d played for hours the last two nights, and it wasn’t like Tucker had never gotten his hands through a console’s innards.
It had to count as knowing the device, right?
And it wasn’t like it was that hard, doing it for just three people. For just one game.
Looking up at the other two, he gave them both a slightly shyer grin.
“So, like… I know we’re having a good time and all,” he began, and Tim groaned theatrically as he was interrupted yet again by his ringtone.
“I’m about to ask Superboy to toss this thing into space,” he grumbled, glowering at his phone.
Conner reached innocently towards it and Tim snatched it back up immediately. Tucker settled back once it was safe too, grinning sheepishly even if it wasn’t his bluff Conner called.
Conner tipped him a wink and Tucker had to clear his throat and give his head a quick shake to clear his blush.
“Right… yeah, uh, anyway. What if I had a better way to get us away from distractions?” He asked as innocently as he could, staring at the screen instead of that far too attractive face.
He could still see the other two sit up from the corner of his eye, both looking interested.
“We’re not allowed to game in the Bat Cave,” Tim said quickly, with a resigned air that said the question had come up before… and enough disappointment that they’d probably done it and been caught.
Which, yeah, thinking of the size of the screen in the cave, Tucker suddenly really wanted to try that too.
Already banned though. And he and Danny were already on thin enough ice with Batman as it was.
Reluctantly dismissing the thought, he returned his attention to the present moment, grin spreading as he turned to face Tim directly.
(Tim was safe. Tim was, objectively, a very handsome young man and Tucker could appreciate that in a distant way, but being pretty was just so much less interesting that almost anything else about Tim.
Tucker could worship him through a distant computer screen, so the pretty blue eyes weren’t much of a distraction. Looking at Tim face to face was really cool, but Tucker would be more tongue tied watching him code.)
“Sure, but you remember I told you about my technopathy? I can interface with machines I know really well,” he added for Conner’s benefit, accidentally looking over in time to preen as his face lit up with interest.
Tim, for some reason, stifled a snicker.
“Yeah, you mentioned. And that it was a little more complicated, but go on,” he prodded, and Conner shot him a look that Tucker was gonna have to ask questions about.
Later. Once he was done showing off a little. And, probably, getting his ass kicked at Spiderheck.
Tucker Foley was a master of video game controls, sure, and that sorta helped, as did “knowing you’ve been thrust into a video game”. He just didn’t delude himself into thinking it’d be enough to counter the actual literal battle training of superheroes.
But hey, maybe having all those extra legs would fuck them both up for long enough that he’d win a few rounds.
“Well I think you might’ve already noticed, but I know this game really well.”
**
Danny was doing his best to keep a cheerful face on things, especially the weird shit.
It had been a while since he’d had a nasty new halfa surprise of his own crop up (although he didn’t dare hope he’d had his last; that would surely bring something on), but he still remembered how it felt.
How overwhelming, how hollow and intimidating the world could be when you were learning that you really knew almost nothing about yourself. That at any time, your body could do something totally out of your control.
Something you might not be able to handle.
He’d felt the fear in Jason, deep and bright and smothered a second later, but not before Danny felt it.
At least he could be here for the other guy; he wasn’t going to be going into the whole mess alone. Danny would make sure of that. Understandable as his reservations about reliving his death were, they would face it together, and he had to hope that might help.
Possibly with Jazz too, when it was actually time for that first transformation. Danny hadn’t even really started coping with dying when he’d first changed, and he’d been dead less than a minute; it had almost been part of the rebirth process. By the time he’d had to do it for a fight, he already knew what would happen.
For Jason… well, it had been a while, and even Danny could see he’d not done much more than paper over the cracks with bad ecto induced rage and carry on.
He was trying not to let Jason see how much he worried, but had a feeling it didn’t matter. Jason was plenty worried already.
Good news was… well, there wasn’t much good news. It was going to suck, no matter what, and if they didn’t do it in controlled conditions it’d be fucking awful.
But they did have some controlled conditions, and better yet? Probably wouldn’t be a problem for at least a couple more days.
As little as Danny wanted to talk about the whole… mess that was Jason’s death, Jason himself was all about the detailed planning. Back ups of back ups and all that.
It probably came with the Batman training.
(The mad compartmentalising totally did. Danny had spent enough time with Bruce in one single car ride to be sure about that.)
For the moment, he gave Jason as much support he could; contact, a reassuring aura, and a smile whenever he could, and absolutely no oogling of his mostly naked body while they were doing the checkup.
(Jason had mentioned a pit-related growth spurt last time, and this close Danny could see that the scars all over him were interspersed with stretch marks. Now that he actually looked the difference was super obvious; the different colour, the creasing where they indented the skin.
Danny definitely wasn’t thinking of licking them to see if he could feel the texture.
Or running his fingers over bared skin, which was admittedly less intimate than the licking thoughts he totally wasn’t having, but also seemed kinda more a betrayal. Because Jason wouldn’t question Danny touching him, but Danny would have Nefarious Motives.
Of. Textures.
But it was totally fine because he wasn’t having any of those thoughts at all.)
He just wished he knew what had caused that sudden panic attack Jason had earlier; it had come almost from nowhere, a wave of black and crushing dread that froze Danny’s already-iced core. It filled the room, filled his lungs, and would have cost him everything to not respond.
Part of him had wanted to shove Jason fully inside himself, store the much larger man in the hollow of his chest so that nothing could hurt him.
(And Danny could, technically, kinda do that. Jason didn’t have to be that much bigger than him, at least while Danny was in ghost form. Ghost form was all about self perception and, well, raw power.
Looking like his twink ass self was a deliberate choice, and one he’d never regretted until it meant not curling Jason into the infinite curls of his tail and protecting himself from the universe as a whole.)
Danny was super great at boundaries. Yup. One thousand percent completely normal about them.
But he’d been able to wrap his aura around Jason anyway, because that wasn’t a freakishly massive monster form that would freak him out further. They’d helped him calm down, helped him breathe, and Jason seemed…
Way too fine, frankly, even his aura had cleared, and Danny trusted that about as far as Sam could throw him. Bat-level compartmentalizing, for sure.
That was gonna get real weird when the more emotionally regulated ghost powers kicked in, but Danny was gonna cross his fingers and hope that it made Jason’s transition easier, not infinitely more fucked up. Jazz would be intolerable, for one thing.
Most of the rest of the appointment went well anyway; bar the surprise “Congratulations On Your Soul Bond” news (which he would not be thinking about too hard until he couldn’t possibly avoid it), it was pretty much what they’d expected.
Jason was doing good, Danny was gonna need to work around classes tomorrow maybe for another trip, and there was just the teeniest chance Jason’s fully formed core would manifest like, physically.
Shockwaves had been mentioned. Danny now had questions about how much of his original death light show had been the portal itself opening. Ones that could never be answered, but hey.
If/when Clockwork showed up, Danny was gonna prioritise Jason’s soul contract over his own curiosity for purely friend related reasons.
Danny didn’t like soul contracts of any sort at the best of times, unwritten ones that put a friend into his service? Yeah, maybe he was feeling just a little vindicated that Jason could see what he’d been freaking out about now.
Now that it was too late, but Danny was technically the Ghost King and Clockwork’s boss, so even if he couldn’t fix the whole mess until his coronation, it wasn’t gonna be a problem-problem.
If Clockwork tried to use the contract to push Danny into accepting his coronation more quickly, well, Danny had a real good win streak of fighting ancients in his pocket. And he’d double never get coronated if they spent the rest of eternity playing cat and mouse for Danny to beat Clockwork’s ass, so.
Not that Danny believed Clockwork would, really. The Observants? Abso-fucking-lutely, he’d be swinging before they finished a sentence, but Clockwork genuinely seemed to care.
He pruned the timelines with the ruthless efficiency of a gardener, but always to make the best outcome. The one where the least people got fucked over.
He’d absolutely fuck Danny over in the service of getting that best outcome, but Danny was also pretty sure he’d feel bad about it if he did, and that Clockwork would and had chosen to believe in him over his predicted outcomes more than once.
Danny trusted Clockwork.
Of course, now that he wasn’t trying to hide and actually wanted to see his mentor and regent, the bastard was nowhere to be found.
All jokes about the “Ever-Moving Now” aside, they weren’t directly making for Clockwork’s tower; the only way to find it was with Clockwork’s permission, so Danny didn’t usually bother. As a kid they’d thought they could stumble across it and surprise him, but these days?
Danny knew better. And Clockwork wasn’t exactly subtle; his lair had showed up around the very first metaphorical corner when he wanted Danny to come in once too often. And hadn’t been anywhere to be found when Danny searched, only to show up beside his fucking portal home.
Where it definitely hadn’t been on his way in.
It went where Clockwork wanted it, when he wanted it there. Danny totally wasn’t jealous.
It had been a while since he’d bothered hiding from Danny though; these past couple months, just being in the Zone had netted him an unwanted visit from his regent. Danny was beginning to suspect Clockwork wasn’t actually all that keen on ruling the realms, and was just planning to fob the job off on him.
Which, y’know, fair. Danny wasn’t exactly thrilled with it either. But it was his job as Danny’s mentor to protect him from this shit, right?
Now that Danny actually wanted to see him though, of course he wasn’t around. Which probably wasn’t actually a bad sign, or that he’d done something he didn’t want them to know about.
Clockwork was just a cryptic asshole, and apparently Jason had used up all of his “getting clear answers” cards in their first meeting. If only Danny had ever gotten a single damn one.
There was one other detour Danny wanted to make while in the Realms, but… today didn’t feel like quite the right time. Jason had already had a fucking day of it, and Danny didn’t wanna dump any more on him. Even if Ghost Writer’s library would be a nice trip for Jason, it was something they should talk about first.
And… probably ask Ghost Writer about first too.
If Danny ever remembered to do that.
So they’d thanked Frostbite, gotten Jason a bag of ecto ice chips (Danny wasn’t allowed any, it was totally unfair because he needed an energy boost too! But noooo, his core was “stabilised” and “complete” and he needed to “sleep” and “eat” for energy like a pleb. Unfair!), and agreed to come back as soon as Jason’s core stabilised.
Danny figured he could always come back on his own for a visit to Nocturn. That was gonna be a whole ass emotional mess; Dan was technically in the database Tucker had handed over, but Jason hadn’t mentioned it yet. Danny didn’t know if that meant he didn’t know, or was just being actually tactful.
He wasn’t even sure what he actually wanted to say yet, how to ask for what he wanted, and he should probably do this right. Nocturn hadn’t challenged him again since he’d become king, and had actually been super helpful so far, but… well, the spirit of dreams was proud, powerful, and Danny was pretty sure he helped specifically to have something on Danny. He’d already decided that his main job tonight was to help Jason relax, feel better, and work out if he needed to sicc the Sam-Tucker combo on Bruce Wayne’s social media.
…
Who was he kidding. Of course they’d be setting Sam and Tucker on the guy, as soon as Jason gave the green light.
Jason had never exactly gotten all the way through the explicit details of how Bruce had fucked up this afternoon, beyond just siccing Constantine on Jason, but honestly?
He didn’t have to. Jason had been almost tangibly frustrated from the minute he rolled up to Danny’s dorms, though he was gonna shoot Tucker a thank you for his little “revenge”, since it had cheered the guy up right away.
Danny was totally not considering a little spectral revenge for himself too. Mostly because Batman would probably know all about ghosts by now, and probably had Constantine doing his spectral condom act all over the cave.
But it wasn’t like Bruce liked Danny anyway, so really, what did he have to lose? Not like Jason hadn’t already shown whose side he came out on on this one.
Danny didn’t exactly know what having over protective parents was like, but Jason could not be more clear that he didn’t appreciate Bruce’s interference. There was clearly a lot going on with those two, and while they’d already talked about Jason’s death and technically he had permission…
Well, Danny didn’t wanna push. Ask literally any ghost, dying could leave you with a whole stack of issues. Jason wasn’t even close to the most homicidal Danny had met.
That poisonous rage, though… Danny pushed it from his mind. It didn’t matter, wouldn’t matter, Frostbite said Jason was doing well and Pitty would be out of him soon.
…
Maybe, just maybe Danny was also starting to worry what that might mean, since it sent Jason into a full panic attack and he’d seen what the rage was like when fully under control.
Maybe they’d bump up the schedule on taking care of those Lazarus pits. Get that Obsession dealt with, see if it calmed things down.
Yet another thing Danny would have to talk to Clockwork about, and was his irritatingly omnipresent mentor anywhere to be found? Of course not.
Which probably meant this wasn’t a timeline threatening problem. Yet.
What a comfort.
Which left them flying home through the Zone, and Danny totally wasn’t overthinking literally everything. He was being considerate, quiet, giving Jason time to process everything they’d seen that day.
Maybe himself too. Just a little. But it wasn’t like Jason was hurrying to start a conversation, and they both had a lot on their minds. It was a good, comfortable silence.
They had nearly reached his preferred portal spot too, so today’s quick trip to the Ghost Zone was nearly over, unless Danny actually wanted to go Clockwork-hunting… which, while probably less emotionally fraught, wasn’t likely to go great.
(Realms geography could be more than just hinky; they were infinite after all, so he tended to open portals back out in the same place he’d previously opened a portal from the living world in. It seemed to help, and he didn’t usually wind up in the wrong dimension that way.
Especially if there was a nearby, powerful anchor.
Going searching up and down the whole ass Zone for the Ever Moving Now? Yeah, that’d fuck his portal plans right up.)
Danny could feel a steady building trepidation rising in Jason like the tide, but he had no idea what the hell to do about it. Back there in the world were Bruce and Constantine, and all the problems that kept Jason balanced precariously on a knife edge.
Here in the Realms, all the problems were new and interesting and could almost all be solved by punching, which really suited both of them. Danny would have been tempted to suggest that sidebar to see Ghost Writer, but it was late, he had school in the morning, and his super handy time manipulating mentor was being a dick and wasn’t here.
A couple years ago, he’d have said fuck it and gone on the sidebar anyway, and probably not slept all night to help his friend. And had Jazz harping in his ear about “developing bodies”, “needing his sleep”, and “this is why you haven’t had a growth spurt since you were fourteen”.
Which totally wasn’t a valid argument or at all what had made him start taking care of himself. He just… well, he just actually really fucking liked his classes these days.
Against all the odds, Danny Fenton had gotten into a prestigious college, into an engineering program that actually let him stretch his talents. And take apart old or broken lab equipment from the other buildings for fun and profit.
And if he hadn’t slept the night before, they didn’t let him use the welding torch. Danny was pretty sure Clockwork might be behind that, since they somehow always knew.
Maybe that was how Nocturn was already betraying him… conspiring with Clockwork to make Danny sleep more and absorb his power?
Danny considered that seriously for about half a second before discarding it. Sure, Nocturn was the King of Sleep and an ancient, but he was also a canny motherfucker and not likely to mess up badly enough to accidentally become King of the Infinite Realms too.
For all that he wanted power, fucking no one wanted to deal with the Observants. Danny had practically begged.
It wasn’t like they had to go back to Gotham and then immediately straight to bed though. Just, y’know, something that wouldn’t take hours and hours. There had to be something they could do in the city that wouldn’t keep them up all night, but would keep Bruce Wayne off their asses.
Unless Jason had shit to do. Danny… kinda hadn’t asked. The only plans he’d known about for the day was busting out Waylon, and then the potential trip to Frostbite.
Maybe he hadn’t meant for it to go so late? Maybe Danny should ask?
Maybe Jason was getting sick of him.
Maybe Jason was getting a little too good at reading auras, since that thought barely settled in before he broke the silence.
“What the fuck?”
And alright, that might also have been a coincidence Danny decided, brows furrowing as he looked for what had caught Jason’s attention.
It all looked normal up ahead to him. Bright green zone, a couple purple islands (was that the ghost of a Bat Burger? Maybe they should check this place out more), the haze of black smog that always surrounded…
Ah.
Yeah, they hadn’t really had that conversation yet, though Danny had meant to bring it up on the way home. Riiiight up until all that overthinking started.
Guess that made this introduction time. Sort of put a stop to wondering how to cheer Jason up… although depending on how Jason felt, it might just be a distraction.
Danny pulled to a stop, Jason coming in close before stopping alongside him, just in front like he might need to protect Danny from something.
Or like he overshot the stopping. Could be either, really. But Danny had a feeling it was at least a combo. He and Jason were just too alike, but it looked almost automatic. Vigilante training, and Danny’d bust his ass later about treating him like a civilian.
Jason was the civilian here, and his citizen.
He cleared his throat, wondering how exactly to go about this, since ghosts didn’t have an introduction protocol that wasn’t “throw down”. And spent about half a second wondering if that was actually on the table before deciding against it.
Sure, most ghost introductions involved a friendly punch up, but Lady Gotham had always been a little different. And this wasn’t exactly your standard “new ghost who dis”.
“Right, yeah… we didn’t see her last time we were in the Zone. Jason, this is-”
“You think my own boy wouldn’t know me, Phantom?”
The voice came from all around them, low and dark and smokey sweet like molten chocolate with just a hint of whiskey. Jason stiffened and glared around harder, conscious caution battling with the sudden wave of relief from his core.
She spun herself from the smog of the city, like she always had. A tall, curvaceous woman built to Jack Fenton proportions, easily seven feet tall with dark mahogany skin and pitch black lipstick, perfect black hair coiled tight into an afro about her head. Smoky black makeup lined her eyes and caressed high, generous cheekbones in a line of clouds.
Long black gloves covered her hands and arms, one of which was held across her body, hand cupping the elbow of her other arm while the other held what probably was a full sized orange traffic cone like it was a cigarette holder. It looked wrong clasped in her hand, scale thrown off by her size. A thin plume of white smoke even spiralled from the wider end.
She wore a short flapper dress covered in layers of tassels, each of which flashed with beads of jet all along the length except for the last bead on a scattering of the strands, which were large, blood flecked pearls. Below the end of the skirt, her legs were lost in the spills of black smog surrounding her, though occasionally more flashes of pearl could be seen shifting through the murk.
It was her eyes that captured all of the attention though as she caught and held Jason’s gaze, a sly smile on those black lips. They glowed yellow from lid to lid, each pupil shaped like a bat.
The fight dropped out of Jason instantly, jaw dropping.
And yeah, maybe Danny should have expected that he’d… sort of recognize her? Jason was a Gothamite to the core, had been one of her true defenders since pixie boots were in style… right up until his own death.
And if Danny read that twitch right, it was costing him an effort not to automatically drop to one knee. So apparently that was just wired into him, and not just a Clockwork-thing. Good to know.
Her smile spread, showing sharp white teeth dripping with tar.
“My son,” she purred, her voice filling the air around them and sending almost visible ripples through the ectoplasm of the realms, “it is so good to finally meet you in person.”
In front of Danny, Jason tensed again. Whatever he’d recognized didn’t quite cut through bat-paranoia, apparently.
“Danny, who is this?” He asked cautiously, his voice low and not taking his eyes off the twin bat signals pointed at him.
Lady Gotham sighed heavily, taking a deep pull on her traffic cone and blowing out a billowing plume of smog. She gestured to Danny, who nodded quickly.
Totally not gonna “I told you so” the city spirit for the city he was living in. King or not, he had some manners.
“Jason, Lady Gotham. She’s…” he hesitated, not sure how exactly to phrase it.
Had they talked about city spirits? It felt like they had? But it had been so little time, he wasn’t sure.
Lady Gotham stepped back in smoothly, shooting Jason a laconic smile and spreading her arms.
“I am exactly what it sounds like. The beating heart of the city, born from the well of souls and desperate hopes of those who call it home. Every shadow in the alley, every gargoyle you shelter under, every parapet that caught your grapple and let you fly…”
Jason had stopped breathing, which was alright as long as they were in the Zone but might not be later, his eyes tracking desperately over the ghost before them. Her smile softened, becoming fond, tender, her free hand now reaching out towards him.
“… and you have been mine since the day you were born, Jason Todd.”
**
Jason was…
Jason was. He didn’t know what he was.
He hadn’t realised just how much noise his heart made thumping until the first time it stopped. Until he’d slammed back to life, heard its drumbeat thudding in his head, every second of every day.
This felt a little like that.
Like a sound he’d been hearing all of his life had gone quiet, and then come roaring back in full swing. It was too much, and not enough, and everything he’d missed in Nanda Parbat and around the world when he’d been training, left with only the thudding of his heart.
The sounds of Gotham. Normal city noises, most of them; the honks and occasional screeches of cars, the buzz of people. And then the screams, gunshots, mad cackling laughter that most cities usually only saw in designated areas.
And underneath it all, a low, throbbing pulse, a hum in the back of his head that meant he was home. That told him where he was, every street corner or shady alleyway.
He could navigate the city blindfolded, knew every gargoyle, every running gutter and rusty grate, listening to that beat. That beat that told him it was his place, the one thing that nothing and no one could ever take away from him, not even all the bullshit with the League of Assassins.
He hadn’t really noticed it going quiet in the Ghost Zone before. Which, y’know, they’d been busy. He’d had a lot on his mind, and… well, it happened any time he left the city.
Going away with the Outsiders, it didn’t matter if they crossed the bay to Metropolis or went to space, Jason knew when he wasn’t in Gotham. Knew when he woke up in a hospital bed whether or not he was home just from that beat.
He’d started thinking it might be the city’s ectoplasm, since Danny was so sure that was why he’d risen before. Might have explained why the Zone was a little different; it was all ectoplasm.
And then he’d looked at this woman made of smog and shadows and smoking a fucking traffic cone, and the beat almost brought him to his knees.
How could he not know her? They danced every night, her hand in his, guiding his guns, his grapple, cupped gently around the back of his neck and showing him where to look. Hiding him from Oracle’s cameras, pointing him at those who attacked the weak like he was the gun himself.
Familiar as his own shadow. Constant as gravity.
And it was that familiarity that pulled at every ounce of Bat training, that unconscious recognition and trust that forced him to doubt.
Hypnotists were the fucking worst. Magic users were all annoying, but Jason would tangle with any of the rest before dealing with a hypnotist. They were worse than Condiment King and Kite Man combined into some ketchup splattered hell kite.
And the more something deeper than the Pit whispered that this wasn’t hypnotism, wasn’t an outside influence, was just the deepest part of himself recognising the deepest part of his home, the harder he fought that feeling.
Until her hand reached for his, and she said his name, and his hand was in hers before he could stop himself.
Contact was… it was a lot.
A barrage of sounds, smells, the backs of every alley flashing through his mind as he was bombarded with memories. Memories? Or was that what was happening now?
Flashes of rooftops, bodies tensed in the shadows, goons working below in blissful ignorance that was about to be shattered. Breaking windows, sprays of bullets or gas or worse, moving and punching and taking down without killing.
He caught sight of Cass for a brief moment, her shape outlined in glowing shadows that definitely weren’t visible to the men running past her hiding place. But of course they weren’t; that was the point.
Cass was the perfect shadow anywhere on Earth, her stealth unparalleled by anything but actual magic, but in Gotham? In Gotham the darkness wrapped her in loving arms, held her close, made sure she was never found.
His baby sister, Gotham’s child even if she’d never been to the city until she was nearly an adult.
More flashes, Dick flying across an alley in Bludhaven (thankfully in his current suit, not the Discowing, which might mean this was the present? Or just that Jason had been seeing him so much more lately that there were just more memories of him like this?), and that made Jason pause.
Bludhaven wasn’t Gotham. That was literally the point. That was why Dick lived there.
And he heard her low chuckle, smoky and soft in his ear.
*Just across the bay, my dear? No, he would have to go so much farther to be free of me, to stop being mine.*
The voice was warm and fond, soft like crushed velvet and so full of affection and pride it tugged at something in Jason’s core.
Something from the little boy who’d watched Robin fly through the air and could barely believe he’d touched the same dream.
Lady Gotham hadn’t moved, her hand still in his in the exact same position, and while he couldn’t see her past the images to know if she’d spoken with mouth or mind he had a feeling he knew. She was in his head, in his heart, and he’d not spoken aloud.
Before Jason would work out how to reply, if he even wanted to reply, his attention was caught by something else in the cascade of images.
A dark spot, not in every scene (at least not that he noticed), but often enough. Something that looked like a shadow, but just a fraction deeper than the rest, a fraction darker, that moved when all the shadows around it were still.
Now that he looked for it he could see it everywhere, the sight of it sending a shiver up his spine that made his hair stand on end. It wasn’t fear; Jason was well acquainted with fear, as little as it bothered him.
This was… tension, anticipation, recognition, the same thing he’d felt when there hadn’t been an Outsiders mission in a while and Roy had decided to hunt him for sport. Something, someone so familiar, with such a strong place in his life, someone he knew was damn capable, setting their sights on him.
(It was always play when Roy did it, a game to keep them both on their toes and get a different kind of training in. Jason didn’t know if Roy ever hunted the others; asking felt like cheating somehow.)
And then suddenly the shadow turned in a different way, its attention locking on to Jason in return and adrenaline shot through him like a bolt of lighting.
It had to be live. Or the shadow knew when someone saw its image. But it had looked back, raising the hair on the back of his neck until it felt like he’d become a Studio Ghibli character, and it was still looking at him.
His hands itched for his guns, the All-Blades, the Fright Gun, and he felt the large, hot hand still holding his tighten for just a second, felt Lady Gotham’s chuckle through his whole body like he was a speaker, and then he was looking at her face again, fond and smiling and larger than life.
“Now now, my sons,” she purred softly, definitely speaking with her mouth this time even if it was just as warm as when he’d heard her in his head, “play nicely.”
Had she been that tall before? She’d been taller than him, certainly, her hand completely enfolding his the way Bruce’s had when Jason had first come off the streets, but now she loomed almost twice as large.
Still holding his hand in hers, only now his was positively dainty, a doll’s hand held by the child who adored it. Her thumb was almost the size of his whole hand, brushing gently over the back.
She could probably snap him in half in an instant.
He’d probably let her.
Her smile spread, reacting to the thought, and her other huge hand came up to gently cup his face, all the pride and love he’d only ever seen from Catherine Todd before.
“My brave little knight…” her eyes closed for a moment and she sucked in a deep breath, her whole body gently expanding as she savoured… something. Then those signal eyes opened and fixed on him, full of lazy satisfaction. “Your belief is so sweet.”
The effect was somewhat spoiled by the traffic cone now pinched effortlessly between two fingers. It hadn’t changed size, which Jason supposed had to be his answer.
She totally wasn’t that big before. And apparently it was his fault? His… belief?
Danny was hovering in the more figurative, mother hen way now (literal not being optional at the moment), and Jason could feel his tension now that he was focused. He’d gotten closer, his aura putting him just behind Jason’s shoulder, but hadn’t gone further.
Not moving between them, which he already had the feeling would have been Danny’s preference after the gala. Jason would tease him about that if he hadn’t already put himself between the stranger and Danny without thinking. At least Danny hadn’t actually done it.
Whether that was because they weren’t in any danger or Danny was waiting for his go ahead didn’t actually matter; Jason couldn’t quite believe either of them would walk away from a fight with Lady Gotham no matter that Danny was the king.
A part of him deeper than the pit knew that she would never fight him. That it was his job to fight for her, to make sure she never dirtied her hands more than the streets already did.
Forcing himself to suck in a breath - and wondering why his lungs ached - Jason gave her hand a hesitant squeeze. Tried not to think about how ludicrously small his hand was tucked into the curl of her fingers.
“Uh… I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but…” he paused, words failing him, and wondered how the actual fuck you were supposed to talk to a whole ass city’s soul all at once.
Lady Gotham laughed softly, giving his cheek (and consequently whole damn head) a gentle pat before pulling away, leaning back to sit as if in an invisible chair and regard him.
“But we’ve known each other from the day you were born,” she agreed gently, her voice still heartbreakingly warm.
No one had ever been so open in their love for him. It all but coloured the air in a rosy pink.
And alright, that was probably at least 90% because his family were in constant contest for Most Emotionally Constipated Soul On Earth and Alfred was British, but Jason still had no idea how to handle it. He had her full, undivided attention, which part of him knew he’d never had in the physical city.
She had so many protectors watching over her, even the crankiest parts of Jason couldn’t begrudge her that. He wasn’t exactly sure he was enjoying it now.
“Ask,” she said softly, gently, the word still echoing around them but in a way that suddenly seemed more enclosed. More private. The echo of a bathroom instead of a grand cavern.
Sucking in another deep breath, Jason realized he had about a thousand questions. But he had to start with the most pressing.
“That shadow, what was it? It was… following the others, all of them. And you called it your son?”
She’d called him her son too, and for the first time since he’d died the word didn’t rankle. But that could be the next question.
The smile she gave him was blatantly approving and she waved a hand gently, a patch of smog in her surrounding cloud suddenly taking on a darker, more solid shape. It wasn’t the shadow itself, there was none of the buzzing adrenaline or life in its movements. Just a facsimile.
He still kind of wanted the All-Blades. Just, y’know, for evil testing.
“Yes, your… brother,” Lady Gotham said slowly, rolling the word over her lips as if tasting it. “That is the Curse of Gotham. Older than the city itself, technically, but before more people came it was simply a malevolence on a patch of land.”
She waved a hand, dispelling the temporarily solidified smog easily.
“It was only once the city was founded, then filled with souls and then despair and superstition and belief that he became a true Curse. As you are mine, the rogues are his. Bearing his mark, flying his flag, putting fear and doubt into every soul as they huddle against the chaos and swear to each other that there is a darkness here like no other.”
Somehow, this did not endear Jason to his “brother”. It didn’t please Danny either, who leaned just a little into Jason’s shoulder, a sudden wariness pinging through his aura.
“Wait, so the curse is older than you? Then why are you…” he trailed off, cheeks flushing suddenly as he asked what Jason was pretty sure was the least important question.
Gotham bestowed him with a gentle, somewhat less fond smile too. Favouritism where he was the favourite kinda make Jason’s skin buzz.
“As I said, it was the city which gave him form. Land can hold a myriad of curses, and any city built here would certainly have felt his affects. But belief…” she paused for a moment, lips pursing as she considered her next words.
Yellow eyes flicked back towards Jason, measuring him, and her smile spread into something distinctly self satisfied.
“Belief matters, for the Neverborn. It’s food and drink, our lifeblood, a source of power. And people believed in Gotham long before they made more than jokes about the curse. No one says that Gotham is on cursed land; they speak of Gotham’s Curse. And so he is mine.”
Jason got the distinct impression that while everything was well established now, it had been more touch and go at one point… close enough that having won was still a point of pride. He didn’t even realize he was smiling back.
It was also probably what she’d meant before… when she’d grown. His belief fed her. Which… kinda meant that him thinking they couldn’t possibly win a fight was a self fulfilling prophecy.
Not quite sure if that was funny or worrying, Jason dismissed the thought and refocused. Some curse was still stalking his family after all, and probably him when he went back to the living world.
“So if this Curse owns all the rogues… is he going to try and hurt the others?” He asked cautiously. Because if none of this was new, the Curse had been stalking them all since they put on the cowls.
How many close calls…
No. Jason hadn’t been in Gotham when Joker got him. He’d thought it was the arrogance of youth that had made him feel invulnerable in Gotham as a Robin, but now he knew there really had been hands hovering over him.
Hands that hadn’t dropped him until he’d left the city. Half the world away and all alone, still sure he was invulnerable… right up until he wasn’t.
He only realized his attention had been drifting when he snapped back, a large and achingly gentle thumb brushing his cheek. Now bigger than his head, still smelling of the smog of the city.
Lady Gotham smiled gently, the dark bats in her eyes crinkling.
“He is no danger to you,” she told him softly, focusing on the question that was asked. Not his wandering thoughts, though he got the feeling she knew anyway.
Drawing back, she looked thoughtfully from him to Danny, taking another drag on her traffic cone, apparently thinking. Held the smogs in for a long moment, until she seemed to come to a conclusion and blew out a long stream.
“The Curse makes the rogues; takes those already on the edge of something bad, and pushes them over. Turns the stagnation of despair into frantic, violent action. It is what he is, what he does… a lingering rot land deep, which feeds on the darkness and breeds more in the souls of Gotham’s inhabitants.”
That definitely sounded like something dangerous to Jason, but who was he to interrupt Gotham herself? A sidelong glance made him wonder if she’d caught that thought too; just how well could she read him?
She waved the smouldering traffic cone in his general direction, blanketing him in a wave of almost comforting black smog.
“And yet, you notice, so few of the rogues seek to permanently remove any of your heroes from the board?”
Danny sucked in a sharp breath beside him, Jason’s heart clenched, but before either could protest, Lady Gotham gave a heavy sigh and inclined her head, smile slipping entirely for the first time.
“The Joker is an unfortunate exception. There is… something worse there, deeper, darker, but I will explain later. For now, consider the others. So many who could, so many chances that they could have taken to kill each of you. I would not allow it, of course, yet even those who wish to see Batman permanently defeated rarely even try to end his life. It is not for no reason.”
There was a true solemnity, almost pain in her face as she spoke of the Joker, eyes fixed on Jason and full of sorrow. Yet nothing in her aura, no push of regret-sadness or anything similar. Nothing to affect his own emotions, and Jason had the feeling that that was deliberate.
As if she knew how much he hated being controlled, pushed around. Or she just… didn’t want to do that to him. It was tough to say, but he was also self aware enough to know he was puzzling that out rather than thinking much about her words.
Of course the Joker was something worse than the fucking Curse of Gotham. Naturally. And y’know what else he was?
Not Jason’s fucking problem right now.
Lady Gotham had paused with him, waiting for his acknowledgment apparently, and Jason gave a stiff nod for her to continue. He’d asked the damn question. He needed to focus on the answer.
A gentle incline of her head the only sign she’d seen anything at all, Lady Gotham continued.
“The Curse will not harm your family, and nor do most of the rogues seek to actually remove you, because your family’s activities are integral to powering the Curse,” she said simply, and that snapped any fragments of Jason’s attention firmly back into place as he stiffened.
Danny tensed beside him as well, still hanging back, but it was Jason who spoke. He didn’t need help on this one.
“Wait, what? How the hell are we helping the Curse?!” He demanded, brows furrowing.
If the Curse made the rogues by taking people on the edge and throwing them off, sure, that kinda made sense. Gotham had always been a cesspit of crime, but it used to be at least 85% less brightly spandex coloured before the Bat came along.
Much as Jason didn’t think Bruce took his mission far enough, he could admit that at least the “normal” gang violence had died down significantly. For one thing, most of the old gangs had been driven out by the rogues, or absorbed by converts like Penguin and Black Mask. There wasn’t much space in Gotham these days for just run-of-the-mill crime.
And Jason himself had gouged a chunk out of what was left, which he used to find extremely satisfying… but how would that help the Curse? Unless… the Curse had pushed that darkness in him…
Lady Gotham shook her head, that fond smile curling sadly at her lips as she reached down to gently tip his chin up with a massive finger.
“No, my dear… you are not helping the Curse. He could no longer exist without you,” she explained softly, the dark and dusty smogs building heavily around them. Just seeing them made Jason’s throat itch…
He clenched his jaw shut, focusing on her face instead. Waiting for that to make some fucking sense.
Lady Gotham hummed thoughtfully, holding his chin a moment longer before releasing him, waving a hand vaguely through the smoggy air.
“It is… contrast. There are no shadows without the light, no sweet without bitterness, no… no hope without despair. And no despair without hope.” She seemed pleased with the metaphor, bat signal eyes bright in suddenly building gloom. Which then fixed on him.
“When people lose hope… when they give up on Gotham, accept the awfulness in their lives as mundane, it drains them of their will, their power to believe. If nothing fights the Curse, pushes back on the tides of corruption, then who’s to say there is a curse at all? Just mundane bad governance. Certainly nothing unique about that, in this world.”
A hand cut through thick black clouds and Jason realized abruptly that he’d lost sight of everything but her eyes, shining in the darkness. And then the shadows spiralled in front of him, whipped by her fingers into a familiar black silhouette.
“But the Bats… the birds, all of Gotham’s caped defenders? No other city in the world could fail to be safe under your constant attentions. No other city could take the stream of wealth and charity Bruce Wayne pours into it and be less than utopian. And yet Gotham remains, a far better city than the one you were born in, but still one of the most dangerous places to live in this country.”
The shadowy bat began to glow, lined in a bright golden light, yet somehow it only made the surrounding shadows all the darker. It swished its cape, striking at invisible foes, and the clouds curled in around it.
“What else but a curse could cause this? And what a powerful curse it must be, with a new vigilante showing every month, and still not a dent?”
The blackness around them grew darker still, the bat’s glow suddenly seeming weak and fragile. Jason’s chest lurched, his heart screaming to reach out and catch the faltering figure, pull it close and keep it safe, but he stamped it down.
It wasn’t Bruce in danger. It was just a light-show, a visual demonstration. And it sure as hell didn’t need his protection.
And then a skewer of pure blackness plunged through its heart and the golden glow winked out, leaving them in pitch darkness.
Jason’s heart clenched, a dread chill running down his spine and he spun around, searching for Lady Gotham and her searchlight eyes, but he couldn’t see anything. Not even Danny, who always glowed faintly in his ghost form.
Still, her voice continued, completely calm and unshakeable.
“If the symbol falls… if the Bat is broken, the Curse will gain a great deal of power for a day. Perhaps a generation. And then people will forget, and forget that they believed, and it will wane once again. A much worse loss, now that he knows the power he can have.”
The billowing clouds of darkness pulled back and the glowing green of the Ghost Zone almost made Jason shield his eyes. They hadn’t moved, of course they hadn’t; Danny was still right beside him, his aura a heavy throb of new understanding-exasperated-mildly amuse.
Which… well, yeah, now that he could breathe again Jason could admit it had all been pretty dramatic. If she was his first ghost, he’d have assumed it was just a Gotham thing, but Danny was also a dramatic little shit, so.
Sucking in a deep breath, Jason blew it out slowly, calming the beating of his heart. Lady Gotham looked quite pleased with herself, still sat reclined a little ways away.
It was one hell of a powerpoint, and he was pretty sure he’d got the gist of things. Not that it made any of this make sense, but it was pretty much what he’d expect from magic.
“So… the Curse makes the rogues, to make people think the city is cursed, but it also wants to keep the vigilantes safe…” a phrase from an old book tugged at his mind, and Jason couldn’t resist a slight smile, “because you gain status by the quality of your enemies?”
It startled a short laugh from Danny, quickly stifled as Lady Gotham beamed her approval.
“In essence, yes. The struggle will be unending, because it must be, but we have come to… an understanding of late. Despair and death feed my Curse in the immediate sense, but when both are only to be expected… it’s a paltry meal. There is inevitability, even boredom, when it’s all despair all the time. So now the city has hope, and I prosper.”
Lady Gotham preened, plumping up her perfectly round curls, the same self satisfied smile she’d had when mentioning how she had become the dominant spirit. Maybe the Curse hadn’t quite worked out just how much she got out of their little understanding too. Then she shrugged.
“And the rogues have their little obsessions, their tricks and games, and sometimes there is despair and sometimes there is death. But what matters is that you are there to fight against it, to nobly win the battle…”
“Even if we’ll never win the war,” Jason finished grimly, his mood souring.
Wasn’t that what he’d always told Bruce? That his damn rules, his “No Killing” standard meant that everything else he did was pointless? That just locking people up in the bloody sieve that was Arkham was never going to change anything?
Lady Gotham’s smile softened to something bittersweet and sad, and she nodded gently.
“Gotham city will never know peace, Jason,” she told him gently, and suddenly she was smaller again, scant feet taller than him, and holding out a hand he’d be able to close his own around. “It will never be like any other city. But the only reason I stand at all is because people like you will look at this city, with its soot and its smuts and its people who have nowhere else to go, and decide that it is worth fighting for.”
Those eyes were fixed on him again, black bats on yellow lights, and then suddenly… suddenly the irises were black, and the bats a familiar deep red. It might have been a blink; it might just have been that sharp moment of change.
“There is one way that the war will end,” she told him softly, stepping closer through the void until he could have counted the pearls skittering across her dress, and every jet bead around them, if he could have looked away from her face.
“On the day that those heroes turn away, that all else give up on Gotham and turn their backs. When no one stands against the tide of night and it is dragged down and away into the dark heart of the Cursed land beneath. It is only hope that stands in the way of that end, my Jason Todd… my Robin.”
His brow furrowed and a fleeting smirk dashed across her lips, the faintest flicker of her gaze to Danny beside him, and Jason understood. It wasn’t Robin’s colours in her eyes, no matter what Damian had done to the suit.
Her Red Hood.
But she wouldn’t out him to Danny, not even now.
His gaze fell to her hand again, suddenly bare and dark and open and nails that were a rich, bloody red. His blood, and Bruce’s, and every vigilante, and every citizen, and every rogue that stood, and fought, and died for her. Every life that was ruined or ended, all in this fight that could never be won, only lost.
He met her gaze again, felt the red bat he’d emblazoned across his chest once more pierce his soul.
Because… this was what it really meant, to wear the bat. Not just that he had forgiven Bruce, that they’d reconciled, that he’d rejoined the family. That he wasn’t going to kill unless he had to, and there was no other choice.
No.
He wore the bat because he wasn’t just the Red Hood, a name he’d stolen from the damn clown and carved across the city in blood until people only thought of him when they said it. He wasn’t the crime lord who’d filled a bag with the heads of his rivals’ best lieutenants, took Crime Alley in a bloody fist, and was just another gang leader. Just a bigger, scarier, nastier guy than the people who’d wanted that alley before to strip mine its people and poison its kids.
And sure, being that guy had worked. It kept the worse gangs out. Kept his street kids fed and occupied, and mostly out of jail. Did what all of Bruce’s crusade had never managed to do; he’d cleaned up Crime Alley.
And it hadn’t been enough.
Hadn’t made anyone feel safe; not when all they had was Red Hood’s whim that kept them from going right back to the mess they’d been left in.
The Alley was different too, this last year. He’d always tried, as Hood and Jason. Wanted people to come together, build a community, to feel safe in their home and protect it.
To feel like someone finally, actually cared about them. That someone cared about Crime Alley for its people, not what they could take from them. That they would be defended.
And people had played along, back before he took the bat. They’d come out, cleaned up the street, fixed up some store fronts and made careful conversation, because that was what you did when the man with the big guns said he wanted you to play nice.
And they’d been wary, cautious, watching the Hood like he’d snap at any second no matter what Jay told them. And he’d known they were just… humouring him. Didn’t believe in it. And he’d thought the only way to get them to see was to keep going, keep giving back until they realized he really meant it all.
He’d patrolled since the first day he’d come back, but it had been the day he’d gone out in his modified uniform, the red bat on his chest, that things finally changed.
His working girls and boys didn’t straighten up when he approached. The street kids didn’t run when his shadow passed overhead. People looked up into the night and they smiled, thanked him, reached out to the gang and left little red bat signs in their windows.
With the red helmet and black body armour, he’d been just another thug to fear. And oh, he’d fucking hated it at first, turned his vision to sickly green that all this acceptance only came with B’s goddamn bat on his chest.
When the kids tagged it on walls, dumpsters, taunting threats at the edge of their territory to every other gang in Gotham, they finally had a bat-approved protector.
Never enough that he’d taken the bat off, though, and now he could see what all those little signs really said.
“We have a protector too.”
“Someone will find justice for us.”
And, his personal favourite (love those little Alley bastards), “Our bat’s bigger than yours.”
Bruce had put the shape on the symbol when he became the night and wanted to drive fear into the hearts of criminals instead of the ordinary citizens, but it wasn’t really his. It was Superman’s S, the symbol of the House of El, the symbol of Lady Gotham turned to something humans could see.
The symbol of a protector, a guardian, and uniquely Gotham’s own.
It was all there, in those red on black eyes, in that soft, knowing smile.
“Have you ever backed down from a fight just because you knew you couldn’t win, Jason Todd?” She asked softly, so softly, and he had to smile back.
She’d known him since the day he was born, and there was only one thing he could say to that.
He took her hand.
“Never.”
——————
LISTEN Y’ALL I HAVE BEEN HOLDING THIS LADY GOTHAM REVEAL SO CLOSE TO THE CHEST.
HER DRESS. HER HAIR. HER GODDAMN TRAFFIC CONE! Anyway she’s wonderful and she’s perfect and she will be back next chapter too, but fuck knows when that will be, so! Hopefully a little less time than this last one, but We Shall See.
This chappy will go up on AO3 tomorrow, I usually try and do same day but I gotta be up early Yet Again and I still…. Haven’t done replies on the last one, so 😅
Wish me luck for the next chapter, I have SO MANY things planned and the outline is just sizzling and we are finally out of introductions territory and it’ll be time for the Plot! Ah, my beloved plot, which will hopefully pick up and speed things along a little more in-fic timewise…
Next Chapter:
Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf f @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake e @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish h @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof f @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 9 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this s @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook @adorkable1291
#dp x dc#dpxdc#dc x dp#dcxdp#danny fenton dead and loving it#chapter 17 part 2#well you did get down on one knee#AND HE’LL DO IT AGAIN#jason 10000% has a worship kink he really just wants to worship someone#danny meanwhile is just a lil freak and i love that for him
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So... thoughts about sab season 2 lmao
The writers were obviously on acids while concocting this high drivel.
It's a new fantasy genre they just founded with this season, you know, High Drivel.
They completely butchered the Darkling's character and I had to painfully witness ten hours of Ben, completely conscious of it, trying to conjure every Beauty and the Beast refrain to delay the Titanic-like sinking of his character and ship (from Phantom and Love Never Dies, to Dracula and Frankenstein to literal fanfictions I'm now sure he reads).
They completely missed the entire point and meaning of Darklina, making it a one-sided, one-dimensional stalker/simp-victim with angry Stokolm syndrome dynamic.
They threw famous line after famous line at us completely out of context as if they were bones to bait rabid dogs with (I will never forgive how they turned the sardonic "I'll make sure you hear when I make her scream", elegant half-threat and half-innuendo, into an angry madman growl with no meaning whatsoever).
"Let me be your monster!" - my children, you have read too many fanfics and not even the good ones.
Don't get me started with Baghra, the relationship counsellor and motherly hero (tm).
The shameless way they painted Aleksander taking possession of the stag amplifier as an assault metaphor. Disgusting.
I honestly didn't believe possible to do worse than the actual books, but never say never! The reasons why I hated the books were magnified this season. If Alina's reasoning and idiocy and lack of interest in her destiny and counterpart just did not make any sense in the books, in the show she is a thousand times dumber and one-dimensional! Put against this new version, books!Alina was depth personified! And if the books felt like rushed unelaborated summaries, the show is now an even worse mess! I cannot believe those are the same people who created season one. I'm astonished.
They eradicated the entirety of canon Darklina's scenes. Not a single one was present. Not one.
The tether is now for everyone to use and abuse, not only a personal soulmate thing. The Darkling is in Mal's dreams too lmao
Merzost suddenly killing the Darkling, of course. Obviously not to make Alina appear less of a cold-blooded murderer, not at all. Perhaps they should have remembered to make her fake a tear or two while burning the corpse of her ex-lover looking like a dumb emotionless fish.
Genya reduced to the victim (tm).
Nikolai the good woke boy (tm).
Nikolai giving up the Sturmhond title to the first tracker he meets, of course.
I loved how after ten hours of soppy eternal love declarations Mal dumps Alina because their love isn't real lol epic stuff.
And by the way this is still considered more valid and important than the relationship with the poor bastard who actually allowed the dumb angry fish to end him while daydreaming about her, his only peace in a thousand lifetimes of war.
Alina turning dark gives me a feeble hope, but the writers should come down from whatever drug they are currently using first.
Said hope involves the fact that they extinguished both Malina and the hatred towards the Darkling this season, and I like to think they did that to give us the proper dynamic with dark!Alina and the Nikolai's duology resurrected Darkling. But who knows if they will see reason.
#shadow and bone#shadow and bone s2#the darkling#darklina#i won't be polite and tag anti things because malina stans never do#the grisha trilogy#anon#asks/replies#one and one thousand stories lis told#sab spoilers
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Could you do some headcanons for Alastor please
Hey there hun! 🩷
Alastor killed 35 people when he was alive. He slipped past eveyones radar. A charming radio host would never be suspected. He even talked about his own murders on his radio show. Saying the killer had to be a mastermind.
Alastor died in his 30s from rabies. A dog bit him while he was hunting deer, and it was rabid. There was no cure for rabies back then. That's why he hates dogs so much.
Alastor has the same attitude in hell. He would never harm someone like Rosie or Mimzy because they're ladies.
After the cleanse, Alastor eats whatever he finds on the ground.
Alastor killed his last tailor for tearing his jacket. He only did it because he was temebeling in fear.
Alastor attends operas but hates modern musicals. Phantom of the opera is kind of an acception.
Alastors room is decorated with the heads of various aniamls and sinners he has killed.
Alastor is a picky eater. He LOVES food but is super critical of anyone's cooking but his own. He even told Niffty her cooking was repulsive. Only his cooking is up to his standards. Apart from a few restaurants.
Alastor thinks of Husk as his brother. Even though Husk hates him and makes it very clear.
Alastor likes cats, but animals are scared of him so they scratch him or run away.
#hazbin hotel#Alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel Alastor#Alastor headcannon#hazbin hotel theories#husk
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Good morning Amity Park, I'm your weatherman, Lance Thunder. Today's Tuesday, June 6, and there’s a 0% chance of rain. Highs are in the mid eighties and lows are in the high fifties.
Yesterday, the Box Ghost quite literally unleashed Pandora’s Box upon Amity Park. Venomous snakes and spiders, rabid dogs and bats, fire breathing horses and ten headed dragons rampaged through town seeking out people to harm. The Fentons and Danny Phantom tried to stop the Box Ghost, but in the end, the only one who could stop him was Pandora herself.
Anyone bitten by the rabid animals can and should receive a completely free rabies vaccination at South Amity General Hospital. Rabies is fatal once symptoms start showing so please seek treatment immediately.
Luckily, the creatures released from Pandora’s Box only went after humans and humanoid ghosts, so it is unlikely that the animals of Amity Park are infected with rabies. Just to be safe though, now it a great time to vaccinate your pets.
The Fentons will likely be driving today so be careful on the roads.
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[20 Question Fic Writer Game]
Tagged by @faindri and @pancake-breakfast!
How many works do you have on AO3?
18! Most are poetry collections, so a lot of smaller stories in one anthology.
What is your AO3 word count?
75,144
What fandoms do you write for?
Trigun is my main squeeze atm (and biggest in general, I have four projects for it which is double anything else--and the highest wordcount, too), but I've written for KinnPorsche, Sabikui Bisco, Danny Phantom, Vampire In The Garden, Sasaki to Miyano, Cyberpunk: Edgerunners, Goncharov (yeah... yeah), The Night Beyond the Tricornered Window, Signalis, Omori, Lycoris Recoil, and The Executioner and Her Way of Life
What are your top five fics by kudos?
No idea and I ain't looking! Trad publishing has me extremely scarred from some nasty comparison wars, so I have kudo and view counts blocked on ALL fics, including mine. From my kudos emails, though, Hallowboned has to be my top fic for sure. Last time I was paying attention most of my other fics didn't pass into triple digits by a long shot
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do!!! I adore comments, and I love chatting with folks, it really keeps me motivated and chugging along. I am... very behind on replying to the comments on my last chapter rn because I feel so awful and guilty about having to quit writing
What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Uh... I don't write a ton of narrative fics, and I do love me some tragic poetry, but I guess the angstiest collection might be my Signalis one, Observable System Transcendence? But my Omori poem and the Trined Soul collection might be contenders, too
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I mean, Trembling Hands is a Trimax fix-it fic, so? Though the Sasaki and Miyano collection, Effortless Dreams, is definitely the most tooth-rotting fluff I've ever slapped onto the page
Do you get hate on fics?
Oh yeah, I've had my poetry called pretentious and also not good enough to be poetry lol. It's been a hot minute since that's happened, people are just jerks sometimes
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
I used to! Porn with plot, my beloved. It would be interesting to explore in poetry format, but we'll see if I have the time who wants to commission some poetry porn from me lmao
Do you write crossovers?
Nah, not my cuppa
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Yeah, many moons ago
Have you ever had a fic translated?
No, but that is one of the coolest things fandom does. Loving a thing so much you spend the time to painstakingly transform that art into something you can read and share in another language, bro??? Translators are amazing
Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
I've worked pretty closely with artists a loooong time ago, but I've only written fics where I'm the sole writer. I have used other writers' ideas and outlines (with their permission, of course), but that's the closest
What's your all-time favourite ship?
I DON'T KNOW?!?! Shipping has never really been my main focus of media typically, but when one digs its teeth into me I go rabid in a completely feral but different way each time.
What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will?
))): All of them
Life feels kinda... really dire atm, it's hard to see ever writing again. However! God I want to finish Hallowboned SO BADLY!!! I have so many chapters written for it that I haven't even posted!!!!! Y'all haven't met Livio yet!!!!!! GAH 3:
What are your writing strengths?
Uh... ??? I'll be real, I've got no idea. I feel like I write so weirdly atm, it's hard for me to analyze in that kinda way
What are your writing weaknesses?
I tend to get really excited/into things and flit around and forget to explain or describe things sometimes. Thank god for having been well-trained to edit my own work. Not that I catch it all, but I try!!!
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I think it'd really cool, but I'd need a native speaker on hand to make sure I don't fuck it up in my own fic
First fandom you wrote for?
I think my first piece of written fanwork was a Danny Phantom Quizilla thing lmao, I'm old. I don't remember what it was about, just that it was ANGSTY
Favourite fic you've ever written?
Ah?!?! Honestly, each project is so different and written from such a different place, I've got no idea. I'm proudest of Observable System Transcendence being my longest, most consistent project (outside of my Smaugust collection, which isn't a fan project), Hallowboned being the first thing that really inspired me in ages--and the most indulgent one lol. But each collection and fic and poem comes from such a different place, and it's hard to pull them apart and pick???
Tagging:
Whoever wants to hop in! :3
#Yadda yadda#This was fun to poke my head back into fanfic headspace for a moment#Thank you guys for the tag! <3
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Hellooo!! Can you do an akechi, ryuji or yusuke (you can choose which one to do or only do more than 1 if you can) with a ethnically middle eastern reader that has a curvy/full figure who does professional belly dancing as a side thing outside of school at parties/ weddings and what not and then later the readers s/o comes to pick them up a bit too early so he just admires them while they belly dance? (If you want a reference for the belly dancing @/azeeria on tiktok would be nice!)
Ty if you would consider this request <33!
Bellydancer S/o HCs (Ryuji Sakamoto, Yusuke Kitagawa, Goro Akechi)
𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!!! 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!! 𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘀𝗮𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲'𝘀 𝗻𝗼 𝗴𝗼𝗿𝗼 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗳 ): 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗺𝗵 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗲
𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?
Ryuji Sakamoto
One word, three syllables: cheerleader
You know he’s going to brag about you to literally EVERY SINGLE PERSON HE COMES ACROSS
Half of Tokyo knows your name (and it’s not just because you’re famous)
He won’t let anyone give you shit- whether it’s online or in person, he’s always there to defend you (as a phantom thief, as some anon online, as Ryuji the lowkey thug- you name it)
But that’s all while you’re NOT dancing
When you are, it’s like he’s a whole different man
Whenever he catches you at the end of a performance or even practicing, he’ll stop everything he’s doing and he just watches
He’s just completely enraptured with the dumbest smile on his face as he watches you dance because he’s just so damn happy to have someone like you in his life
All his life he definitely felt like he was so different of a person compared to everyone else that being different couldn’t ever lead to something good
So being able to see you be unapologetically yourself to make something beautiful- it just makes him so so so so happy it’s crazy
Yusuke Kitagawa
You are his biggest inspiration for art
Seriously- Japan has so many unique people (himself included) but it’s not all the time that he gets to meet someone from a completely different ethnic background
Much more, get to be with someone with a completely different ethnic background who actively practices and performs part of their culture for the public
And he has caught glimpses of you practicing before of course
But when those rare moments he gets to one of your performances early and he gets to see you
Like, really really see you
In full costume and with the lights shining on you and your bright smile as you give it your all?
It’s beautiful to him. It’s art to him
Time after time, your performances never fail to leave him slack-jawed in pure awe as his mind explodes with creativity
It’s like you’re truly the best thing that could have ever happened to him in every sense fo the word
Goro Akechi
Unfortunately, your relationship canNOT be public of any sort
Its obvious Akechi is gonna have rabid fangirls who would tear any girl he shows interest apart
So naturally, having an extremely beautiful girlfriend with a foreign ethnicity would be a cause for concern given his popularity (and the fact that shitty stans exist everywhere)
But don’t worry
He’s more than content watching you from afar when out in public
Who do you think films all your promotional videos???
He has seen you dance before so it’s nothing new (there’s a room in his apartment that he cleaned up just so you have a space to practice when you’re over)
But watching you in your element gives him the peace of mind that he’s with someone who has dedication to their own craft
Plus it’s a nice break from being around stiffs in suits all-day
Though people are starting to wonder why he’s often in the same place as you…….
#ryuji sakamoto x reader#yusuke kitagawa x reader#goro akechi x reader#p5 ryuji#persona 5 ryuji#ryuji x reader#p5 yusuke#persona 5 yusuke#yusuke x reader#goro akechi#p5 goro akechi#persona 5 goro akechi#akechi x reader#ryuji sakamoto#yusuke kitagawa#persona 5#persona 5 x reader#persona 5 fanfic#persona 5 fanfiction#p5 x reader#p5 fanfic#p5 fanfiction#p5r fanfiction#p5r fanfic#p5r#p5r x reader#persona 5 royal x reader#persona 5 royal fanfiction#persona 5 royal#persona 5 royal fanfic
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Okkokok. I am here. I'm almost always on Tumblr. I would share my account, but...the fic IS anonymous for a reason.
& TYSM NONNIE!!! Ngl I wrote it while not doing the best and it was originally just on anon, but after a while I decided to orphan it. This is making me like it a lot more again, ty <3
Question for YOU, do you think Felps ever thinks about how he was the only who wasn't in Alcatraz forcefully? He was a guard, someone who had some sort of power over the prisoners, even Cell (in a way), and Cellbit+Tazercraft have all this trauma from prison and he was...a guard. And this goes into how he likes Pac, and the...thing with Cellbit.
- need anon
Okay so. Maaaybe im a bit of the wrong person to ask this bc my F!Felps is a fucked up lil guy as well. For a long time, he didn't had empathy and compassion at all. He went across servers and servers with the Watchers blessing knowing he wouldn't ever stay so he often made no connections, just learning new stuff and watching whatever was going down before moving over. He sillied his way into being a guard and Cell fascinated him due to absolute trainwreck he was. And Felps got attached to that rabid weird phantom <3
They both kinda connected in a way. They both hated their home servers, they liked watching people suffer for entertainment, and when Cell branded the fake phone and said Felps' (inexistent) family was under his watch, Felps was even more interested in that fucked up dude. He allowed him to hurt a lot of people, he didn't interfere on them
And when Cell tried to kill him, almost being successful on it, Felps was ANGRY. He felt way more hurt with the fact Cell had the courage to do that to him, he felt hurt by the betrayal just as much. He almost left Cell to die in the island before he realized he rlly liked his presence, deciding to help him and take him along with his server hopping
Due to the nature of his deal with the Watchers, Pac and Mike don't remember him perfectly from the prison, their memory of him is fuzzy, but Cellbit is a different case as Felps made sure to drag Cellbit along with him so they wouldn't forget each other. Felps learnee just as much with Cellbit as Cellbit learned with Felps, since Felps also had to learn to actually connect to people and keep those friendships. They both kinda learned to be human together, in a way, with Felps quite literally helping Cellbit look more human, healing him and taking care of him for weeks as Cellbit suppressed his urges as must as he could by himself before he could get therapy
Also. Felps feels a bit of remorse over the prison stuff, but at the same time not really. He seems himself a bit too detached from that old Felps, and he takes the new chance he has with Pac and Mike seriously as he fully lets them be family, to the point of even falling in love with Pac that strongly
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Descendants celebrity au
Benjamin LeRoi. The latest in a long line of French born Australian family of Shakespearean actors. Wanting to get out of the pigeonhole he was raised in he auditions for and wins the role of dashing rogue Balthazar Buckingham in Persey Pantheon’s directorial debut Reincarnate next the highly sexually intriguing Mallory Perrault as Emmeline Atkinson.
Mallory Perrault. A rockstar whose act would make the Pussycat Dolls look like the nuns from The Sound Of Music. Her first acting role is alongside Ben in her half sibling Persey’s directorial debut Reincarnate as the ingenue Emmeline Atkinson and Ben as the dashing rogue Balthazar Buckingham.
Evangeline Grimhilde. An accomplished singer known for her sugary sweet stage persona which she hopes to break out of with her boyfriends latest movie Baby It’s Cold Outside as the seductive demon Seraphina
Douglas Greenman. An EGOT winning director, actor and dancer. He’s been reluctant to cast Evie in his works for fear of nepotism accusations. But she’s finally persuaded him to cast her as Seraphina in Baby It’s Cold Outside alongside him as Reverend Oliver Bentley after a very spirited late night talk.
Carlos De Vil. A sitcom actor known for his role in The Isolation Room as the nerdy technology teacher Miles Carp who has a long winded relationship going with the rebellious art teach Allen Qasim that he oversees detention with. Unfortunately this has led to a rather rabid fan base who insist he and Jay are dating in real life despite the both of them being in very stable relationships with other people.
Jane Babineaux. A rather mousy Broadway actress with a very powerful voice. Carlos’s girlfriend. Currently cross cast in a revival of The Phantom Of The Opera as Erika the Phantom. Tries to be okay with Carlos’s TIR fans. But the invasion of privacy is starting to affect her performance
Jay Tahan. Carlos costar in The Isolation Room. Dating Gil. Decidedly less kind to the fans than Carlos and Jane are to the point that he’s disabled all of his social media accounts except for the shows official twitter account. Sadly no amount of flaunting his and Gil’s relationship has quelled the fandom yet.
Gil Legume. A lead on the adult fantasy epic The Norseland Empress as Viking Chieftain Sigurd Nordling alongside Lonnie as Ancient Chinese Empress Liu Cheng. Dating Jay. The fanbase is for TNE is just as bad if not worse than the TIR fanbase due to all the contractually obligated love scenes that Gil and Lonnie are required to do which the fanbase uses as “proof” of an offscreen romance.
Li Lonnie. Gil’s leading lady in The Norseland Empress. Liu Cheng is her first leading role in a drama show. Her background is Janeane Garofalo type standup comedy. As such. She wasn’t ready for how rabid the fanbase became. But fortunately for her, she’s got Jay on her side to tell the fans where to shove it.
Nedahk Thatch. Singer, dancer, choreographer and actor. Playing Patrick Swayze’s role in a musical adaptation of Dirty Dancing alongside his girlfriend Uma. They’re celebrated for their chemistry. But a favour for her father threatens to overhaul the movie.
Uma Facillier. Actress and singer. The Dirty Dancing musical is her first leading role. Before this her biggest role was one of the muses in an off-off-broadway production of Hercules. She’s enjoying the newfound recognition. If only her dad hadn’t begged her to play act at dating a volatile train wreck.
Harold Hook. A punk rock singer. Wants to be the next Sid Vicious. He doesn’t have a single talented bone in his body. Well. Unless you count his almost prodigious ability to cause scandal and ruin everywhere he goes. It’s gotten so bad that his father and Uma’s dad had to set them up in a fake relationship in the hope he gains some good will from the press. It’s not working.
Persey Pantheon. Actor and director. Reincarnate is their prospective comeback after losing over half of their fanbase when they came out as non-binary. They didn’t plan on Reincarnate being political. But it’s an occupational hazard when you make a movie set throughout and beyond human history
Maddox Hatter. Persey’s girlfriend. Recently played Margaret White in a revival of Carrie but had to be let go after an on stage psychotic break led her to fall to pieces during “And Eve Was Weak” at the start of the eight performance. She’s on medication now and is the researcher on Reincarnate
Hadie Pantheon. Persey’s twin brother. Harry, Mal and Evie’s half brother. Aspires to be the next Johnny Cash. Only he can’t play guitar. He can however play the piano. So he’s settled for being a mix between Johnny Cash and Ray Charles. He’s also a gifted song writer and serves as the lyricist on Reincarnate.
Antony Tremaine. Hadie’s boyfriend and singing partner. Guitarist. Serves as the composer for Reincarnate. Gave Persey the idea for the movie by gifting them The Time Traveller’s Wife for their birthday. He’s also giving Mallory elocution lessons in preparation for the Regency and Victorian segments of the movie.
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The Amethyst Files, Part 8
Read on AO3!
First part | Previous part
A/N: Let's find out who shot Mad, shall we?
Warnings: Gruesome description of bullet removal.
--
He was falling. Why was he falling? The ground kept giving out under him, and he just kept falling. There was a ringing in his ears, a dull echo reminding him he could still hear things, and the wind whistled past his face as he fell. Everything seemed so dark, so cold, except the burning in his shoulder, and oh, that ringing isn’t ringing, it’s—
Mare yelled in anger as he charged at the figure on the other side of the clearing, wrenching the gun from their hands as he tackled them to the ground, hand against their throat as he snarled in their face. His heartbeat roared in his ears, and he turned his head to snap at Phantom’s arms as his brother tried to pull him away.
“Mare, let him go!” Jackie’s hand on his shoulder finally dragged him away, shaking his head at Mare’s rabid snarl before turning to look back at the person on the ground. “Go tend to Mad. I’ll deal with this.”
Mare gave a final growl, looking at the man on the floor, before his gaze softened and he ran back to Mad’s side, brushing his hair off his sweaty forehead and propping him onto his lap. He held Mad’s hand tightly as his free hand pressed against the bullet wound in his shoulder, shaking his head to dispel any tears threatening to fall.
“Mad, darling, please don’t die,” he begged, leaning over the vampire to check his back for an exit wound. “No exit wound. Bullet’s in there still.” Tearing the sleeve of his shirt, Mare pressed the fabric against Mad’s back, applying enough pressure to stop the bleeding.
--
“Help Mare,” Jackie told Phantom, not looking up as the human crouched beside him. “This is my own mess for me to fix. Go help your brother save his mate.” Taking a steadying breath, Jackie turned to the man on the ground, setting his jaw as he crossed his arms. “We thought you were dead.”
“Very nearly,” the man replied with a chuckle, dusting off his jacket as he sat up, frowning when Jackie’s hand on his shoulder forced him to lean back. “Jackie, it’s just me. There’s no need to be scared.”
“Robert,” Jackie began slowly, looking into his eyes, “You should have written once you’d reached the shore. Chase was so sure you were dead that he practically went insane. You just shot a friend,” he emphasised the word with a squeeze to Robert’s shoulder, gaze changing from angry to helpless. “My only friend in this country.”
“I don’t trust him,” Robert confessed, shaking Jackie’s hand off his shoulder so he could sit upright. “There were… people, they wanted this land to develop weapons. They wanted a way to overpower him. To weaken him, so they could experiment on him. Jackie, he’s dangerous.”
“He’s lived on his own for over two centuries,” Jackie replied, looking at Mad across the clearing. “He didn’t make trouble for anyone, focused on protecting himself. I’ve seen his home; he just wants to exist without being hunted. The only thing dangerous about him is how much he cares for Mare.”
“Mare’s the one that attacked me?” Robert asked, frowning at the two men hunched over Mad’s body. “How long has he been a vampire?”
“At least a year,” Jackie laughed softly to himself, hanging his head in amusement. “His brother’s still human, been looking for Mare for a few months.”
--
“He can’t be dead,” Mare said helplessly, looking at Phantom as he held Mad close. “He’s too smart to be killed by a gunshot.”
“Mare, the best we can do right now is try to get the bullet out,” Phantom stated, focusing on helping Mad instead of dwelling on his brother’s broken sobs. “I need you to help me get him to the creek, so I can wash his back and get the wound clean.”
“If he dies, I’m going to rip that vampire’s throat out. I don’t care how Jackie knows him,” Mare growled, effortlessly picking Mad up and carrying him to the creek, setting him on his lap with his back up so Phantom could clean.
“Do whatever you want,” Phantom replied, cleaning Mad’s back before biting his lip. “This is going to be hell.” Giving Mare a short nod, he poked his fingers into Mad’s wound and searched for the bullet, pulling a face as he pulled it out.
The twins flinched at the animalistic yell Mad let out as Phantom pulled out the bullet, Mare clutching his mate to his chest while Phantom essentially ripped the bullet out, both covering their ears as Mad’s yell turned into a screech, echoing through the clearing and making the birds fly from the trees. Just as Mare and Phantom thought they’d lose their hearing, Mad went deathly silent, going limp in Mare’s lap with an occasional twitch to his fingers.
“What… the hell was that?” Phantom asked, setting the bullet down and dunking his hands into the creek to clean the blood off them. A glance across the clearing told him Jackie and his friend were heading his way, so he tied a torn strip of Mad’s shirt around his back to cover the wound.
“I have no idea,” Mare said breathlessly, staring at the unconscious Mad in front of him. “He’s never made that sound before, but I kind of like it.”
“Mare.” Jackie’s voice distracted Phantom from his brother’s words, and he turned to look at the vampires curiously. “This is Robert. He’s a member of my family that we thought were dead. He wants to help.”
--------------
@iamvegorott @brokentimewatch @dungeon-dragons-dragons
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A Crown Without Jewels
by Rottenest
27 people had a lot of blood; what could he say?
“Danyal?” Damian asked, his voice faux-confident. Danny knew that voice, though. Damian spoke in it every time Danny came back from training, his eyes still burning green.
Danny sighed. He dropped the katana, hearing it clatter to the floor. Damian carefully, suspiciously, lowered his arm. He still kept his own katana tight in his hands. Both of them knew Danny didn’t go rabid with the red; he could still plot and be deceitful. He didn’t get that blinding Pit Rage.
---OR---
Some 8 years after Danny ran away from the League after his own sort-of experience with the Pits, he and his brother happen to reunite in some less than stellar circumstances. Meaning right after Danny fought and heavily injured roughly 27 assassins. Not-- not the best.
TL;DR - Demon twins AU with Pit influenced!Danny
Words: 10738, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Robin: Son of Batman (Comics), Danny Phantom
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: Gen
Characters: Danny Fenton, Damian Wayne, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul, Dick Grayson, Jack Drake, Mary Grayson, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, a lot of mentioned characters - Character
Relationships: Danny Fenton & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Danny Fenton & Bruce Wayne, Batfamily Members & Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Past Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne - Relationship
Additional Tags: Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne are Twins, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Danny Fenton-centric, Not Phantom Planet Compliant (Danny Phantom), Everyone Needs A Hug, BAMF Danny Fenton, Bad Parent Talia al Ghul, Jack Drake Tries, Canon-Typical Violence, Ghosts, Clockwork is Kronos, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Tim Drake is Red Robin, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Damian Wayne is Robin, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Protective Danny Fenton, define "good brother" please, because these two are uhhh, yea, Lazarus Pit Side Effects (DCU), Past Character Death, meet danny fr hes just that tag, no beta we die like danny
via https://ift.tt/qdZmW7k
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Am I the only person who doesn't think RK playing the Phantom as autistic was offensive? Most of the takes I've heard are from neurotypicals and as someone who's on the spectrum and struggles daily because of it, I feel kind of alienated from the fandom and a little bit like a horrible person. I completely understand why people find the performance itself offensive, but some have really taken his statements about it in the worst faith possible.
"He definitely is not an evil person. He is a victim of circumstance and environment. He has been conditioned with such prejudice in his life. I believe the Phantom to be Autistic. I think he has a form of Aspergers Syndrome. When the Phantom kills I truly don't believe it to be premeditated. He's just losing control. Again, this all stems from his social conditioning. He's never felt a mother's love, nor his father. He has had to become a man without being a child." -Payvand.com
Why should this make me angry? I get that RK is neurotypical, and saying that the Phantom is "just losing control" when he kills certainly lends itself to unfavorable interpretation, but he immediately follows that up by saying it's due to his "social conditioning," not that a propensity for murder is somehow a symptom of autism.
If it is commonly understood by the fandom that Erik's deformity is not the literal reason for his wrongdoings, and it was the horrible treatment he received because the world looked upon him as inhuman that led to that, why should we assume that an actor who was portraying him wouldn't apply the same idea to autism? I'm not just some rabid stan who's mad that their senpai is being attacked. RK is lightyears away from being my favorite Phantom and he honestly seems kind of douchey, but why should I jump to the worst conclusion about his reasoning?
I really get the feeling that NT people who are mad about this don't know what it's like to be autistic, and think that we can't be violent or bad people. It feels very infantilising to me. I've been told I sound dead or robotic time and time again. I've had my comfort object lost or stolen and been treated like a threat when I get upset about it. I've had my needs and concerns downplayed, even by my family members. I've had relationships fall apart completely when the other person learns what I really am. There are times when I literally don't feel human because of the way I'm perceived. I find the idea that RK relied solely on stereotypes to influence his idea of the character, frankly, insulting, because it means that I must be a stereotype.
Hello! Thank you so much for your thoughts.
First, let me just say that nobody in the fandom deserves to feel alienated because of their opinions. I've seen people who have definitely resonated with Ramin Karimloo's Phantom because he portrayed the character as autistic, and while they may not be as "big" in the fandom, they certainly exist. As with many fandom spaces, you just have to find your people, whatever that may be!
As for the rest, I actually wasn't comfortable with answering it because I am exactly that neurotypical who is mad about it. So I went to a Discord server I am in for thoughts, and one of the members there, who has autism, wrote a response which they generously gave me permission to share. I don't know if they want me to share their Tumblr handle as well, so I haven't, but if they do, I'm sure they'll reblog this so you can continue the conversation with them. Anyway, here was their message in response to your ask:
I think the most important thing to remember is that no community is a monolith. There are people who will find certain portrayals or headcanons offensive, and others who feel comforted by them, and a lot of it depends on life experience. I could say “it’s ableist to assume that autism makes people more capable of violence because it plays into harmful stereotypes,” OR “it’s ableist to act like autistic people are never violent because there are violent autistic people and they deserve representation and dignity too,” and both of these statements would be true in various ways and settings.
For me, it’s more of an issue of discussing when (and if) non-autistic people get to draw these conclusions, and under what circumstances. On one hand, it’s very hard for non-autistic actors to play autistic characters, and can also be frustrating when there ARE autistic actors who aren’t getting work. One of the other, there’s a huge difference in impact between Ramin Karimloo, who is relatively unknown outside of theatre, watching a documentary on autism (which, it’s my understanding is what he did) and saying “I think the Phantom is autistic,” and then attempting to portray it (even badly) in a long established show than, as an example, an extremely famous actor (Benedict Cumberbatch) saying, effectively, “yeah I decided Frankenstein’s Monster in this brand new play is autistic so I went to an autistic school and watched people for research. They were just, like, pissing and shitting and had no understanding of the world. Anyways it’s offensive to call Sherlock Holmes autistic because he’s intelligent and that could give false hope to the pathetic shit-slinging autistics.”
That is. Not as hyperbolic as I wish it was.
So anyways, it’s mostly like. Is what Ramin Karimloo said/did ignorant, in kind of bad taste, and arguably offensive? Yeah. Is it a valid reason for some people to feel uncomfortable about him/his take on the Phantom? Yeah. Should it get him thrown into Ableism Jail for all time? Probably not.
As far as headcanoning Erik as autistic goes. I’m autistic. I see Erik as autistic. I HIGHLY disagree with the idea that morally good characters are inherently good rep and that morally gray or bad characters are inherently bad rep. For some autistic people, seeing villains portrayed as autistic can feel othering or even triggering. I’m not (generally, with a few notable exceptions) one of those people, but I get why they feel that way, even if I don’t agree. I feel a lot of solidarity with autistic people who want to see the side of autism that is messy and difficult and yes, sometimes violent, in characters they relate to. I feel a lot of solidarity with people who don’t feel human because of their autism. As a person who is frequently told “but you don’t SEEM autistic” by people who have never seen me have a meltdown and hit my head on stuff, I absolutely understand that impulse. Even more so, I think more people need to understand that some autistic people ARE violent or otherwise considered socially unpalatable, and that those people do deserve to feel represented.
I also think that for some people, it’s kind of a defense mechanism. Ironically, the first time I ever really heard someone discuss autism it was my brother, who said, “the Phantom is probably autistic.” I asked him what that meant and he told me “being autistic means you’re a r*tarded genius,” right before he told me about Rain Man. The day I watched the episode of House M.D., where House gets told “you’re not autistic. You don’t even have Aspergers. You wish you did. It would exempt you from rules. Give you freedom. Absolve you of responsibility,” is the day I started headcanoning House as autistic. Sometimes we feel like have to hold onto it or say it first, especially with villains.
If I see an autistic person who headcanons an antagonistic character as autistic, I assume there’s something in that narrative that resonates with them. If I see a non-autistic person do it, I tend to disengage. Non autistic people doing it isn’t necessarily wrong, but it may come with an unwanted response from autistic people.
It’s like Harry Potter. My best friend is transfem (they/she pronouns) and they love Harry Potter. They don’t monetarily support JKR, but they also haven’t covered their HP tattoo. I don’t get it AT ALL. I recoil from Harry Potter. We’re both within two of the specific demographics JKR is doing the most damage to (transfems and autistic transmascs), and we have very different responses. When it comes to my friend, I don’t feel comfortable policing her relationship with that thing. On the other hand, a cis person can tell me they’re an ally all day long, but I usually disengage with cis people who hate JKR but just HAVE to go to Wizarding World, or whatever. Like maybe you’re the world’s BEST trans ally aside from that. But when you make that kind of choice, you accept the consequences and boundaries from those communities. I’m somewhat uncomfortable with Ramin Karimloo’s Phantom for that exact reason.
Ultimately what it comes down to is that autism is a spectrum, and by necessity autistic people aren’t monoliths and will have different opinions and needs. One isn’t inherently better or more important than the other, but needs still need to be met and boundaries still need to be respected, and those things can be both contradictory and necessary.
I hope that helps, and again, thank you to the person who wrote the above for their wonderful response as well.
#GP gets asks#anonymous#long post#but I didn't want to put it under a cut (I'm sure Tumblr will do it for me anyway)#tw ableism#tw ableist language#tw transphobia
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Avid fans have ruined fandoms and media for me...
People who want to know every detail about the show, and especially Pedro, wig me out. I don't understand why they need those details. And I don't just mean The Mandalorian.
My brother has ruined One Piece for me because it seems his whole life revolves around it. He's always talking about certain characters whose names I don't remember and powers I don't have memorized. Because I have a lot to do outside of the media I watch.
I had a friend over the other day to binge watch Danny Phantom because I just got into it. I thought we chill, watch the show, and just have fun. But I didn't even make it through the second season because he was just constantly talking over it and hyper-analizing it and telling me about about fan fics he'd read about this or that part of it. I just wanted to watch it and enjoy myself, but I couldn't because I was so irritated by him talking over it and interrupting. I finally had to ask him to leave and I felt horrible that I wasn't as into it as he was.
But that just isn't the way I consume content and it was making me uncomfortable. I mean he practically followed me into the bathroom still talking about the show.
I just watch shows to calm down or just relax and dissociate. I don't need to know how Danni learned ghost skills when she was practically a baby. Or where Pedro is every waking moment. Or how Law was raised. I'm happy to just find content I enjoy and watch it. That's it.
Idk if I'm alone in feeling this way or not. Sorry if I come off as a b*tch in this, I'm just tired of people being so nosey and rabid about media.
Experiences are different for everyone and I am am not going to say that yours are not valid at all. I tend to enjoy the press that comes out, I enjoy studying the characters and coming up with theories. But I'm not debate lore and canon for hours on end.
I do think that there is a vast difference in tracking a real life man's locations and things to do with a show or a character.
People hyper fixate. It happens. I LOVED The X-Files when it came out. Loved it. Books, boxed VHS episodes, magazines. I loved diving into that world and exploring it. I'm sure I drove my parents crazy with it, but it was something that brought me a lot of joy when I was going through those angsty teenage years.
Please curate your own experiences and filter out those that make you anxious or upset. There are various ranges of all fans in any section of a fandom and I highly encouraging blocking those that are not to your liking. No explanations needed to anyone.
Now. I do have to ask why you are dropping this exact commentary into multiple people's inboxes?
https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/the-scandalorian/685807900535504896?source=share
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