letmebeno-one

[letmebeno-one]

It occurs to me the the ocean is only cruel if you don’t belong there, are not claimed by and have claim to it. And I think that explains a lot about Percy and Poseidon’s relationship

[letmebeno-one]

Somewhere out there, our sun is part of someone's favorite constellation. I don't know why this hit me, but I stared into the void for a few seconds because of it, and now I must inflict it on others.

There's an alien out there, and they have a favorite constellation, and our sun is in it. Someone's favorite star might be our sun. What even

[letmebeno-one]

I have had Thoughts, on the force and the dark side and the light side and the sith and they won't let me sleep. It is annoying.

I generally think of the force as art, in that it is a massive thing with a great many different permutations that are practically unrecognizable as even kinda the same thing. Dance is an art form, so is tattooing and wood burning and poetry and pottery; there is also sewing and cabinetry and tiling and landscaping. All vastly different, none of them inherently bad, and none of them technically always an art form. Most of those listed can have purely functional uses with absolutely no emotion in them at all; it is however easily argued that when emotion or intent to invoke emotion are used in any creation, it is inherently more powerful.

Thus, light side is positive emotions, dark side is negative emotions, gray is neutral/no emotions. These are of course sapient ideals imposed on a cosmic entity for the sake of sanity, and the light and dark side don't actually exist, but. Eh. Details.

The sith on the other hand, are abominations and wholly against all laws of nature.

By a physical view, light is movement and dark is absence of movement. The whole point of the Sith is to spread darkness, which is done by destroying light, obviously, but light generally dies (using campfires for ease of concept) when there is no more fuel, or it starts to rain etc. These are natural. What is not natural is for the darkness itself to move.

It is entirely impossible for darkness to be any sort of active. It is a lack of Anything. The sith, in moving darkness and not moving INTO darkness, are evil abominations. This is what makes them so terrible, and so powerful.

By this logic, one could say that Anakin is arguably a terrible person, who made definitively terrible choices and committed human atrocities, but he would not be a sith.

The two ideas obviously don't entirely mesh and it bugs me cause I can kinda feel how they would in my brain, but the words don't want to word, and until words word I can't identify the logical fallacies I can feel snagging on things. So.

Those are my Thoughts, I guess

[letmebeno-one]

DPxDC #14

Amity Park has been irrevocably changed due to the portal. The town is seeped with ectoplasm. The citizens have become liminal.

Amity Park has gained sentience, gained its own city spirit. Lady Amity, Lady Amy for short. Lady Amy has made sure that the needs of her people are being met.

Liminals need enrichment. So she created a coliseum, named Necrosis Arena. Citizens can fight whenever and whoever, even those from the realms. There is even a monthly tournament, open to all. The winner receives a weapon or something of equal value. In the yearly tournament, however, the winner can get anything they want (within reason) from the Ghost King.

Necrosis Arena has a leaderboard of the top 50 list of all fights. And a dedicated stats board for the top 10.

Talks about the coliseum break containment of Amity Park and reach the ears of the JL/JLD. Several people are sent out to investigate.

When the league gets to the coliseum they see something they never thought they would. There on the leaderboard in the number 5 spot is the name Jason Todd-Wayne - Red Hood, Knight of Lady Gotham. And coming in at number 25 Damian Al Ghul-Wayne - Robin, Knight of Lady Gotham.

[letmebeno-one]

Dc x dp idea 133

Danny is really confused. Like sure he made a fake account in order “use” his parents completely valid and not in biased research on ghosts.

Cause obviously. Their completely legit research disproves multiple peer reviewed and factual papers.

Tucker made the fake account. No real names or numbers. So. They couldn’t know it was him right?!??

He just wanted people to see how wack the papers were and bring to light the very not accurate papers. He figured using botched research to counter claim others would do something.

But??? Why was the flash in his living room arguing with his parents about scientific articles. And proper research??

[letmebeno-one]

Let Me Guess Your Favorite

Marinette looked up proudly at her hand painted sign, swinging gently in the Metropolis sunshine. 

Lucky Charm Chocolaterie.

Truthfully, when she imagined her future career as a kid, she had always pictured herself among the greats of fashion design. But after everything that happened with Gabriel, the fashion industry had lost its luster and she looked for something else to do. For a while she considered taking over the bakery for her parents, but they encouraged her to find something of her own. Not that they wouldn’t be thrilled for her to follow in their footsteps, but Maman and Papa knew that, despite how much she enjoyed working with them, baking wasn’t her passion.

Chocolates had been something of a surprise. Adrien had begged her to go with him to a three-week chocolate making class, and she discovered she had a knack not only for making different types of chocolates, but also for guessing what kinds of chocolate other people liked. Making people smile made her feel good. So she learned to make chocolates.

She couldn’t wait to make people in Metropolis smile.

…

The bell over the door chimed. Marinette looked up at two young men who entered the shop, one with a smile and the other with a scowl. 

“Welcome to Lucky Charm!” she greeted in her best customer service voice. She continued placing the last few caramels she’d just finished as they looked around, stopping here and there while having some sort of quiet argument. Wiping her hands on her apron, she waited for a pause in their whispers before approaching them with a smile.

“Is there anything you’d like to try?” she asked. “Or, I can guess your favorite. If I’m wrong you get a sample box.”

She pointed to a stack of small boxes, each filled with four different chocolates.

“Yeah!” the smiling man said, his excitement clear in the sparkle of his blue eyes. “I’d like to try the guessing thing.” 

She turned to the other man, who was still scowling, fine eyebrows furrowed over his stunningly green eyes. 

Oh wow, she thought. 

“You can try,” he said, nose wrinkled. “But you will not succeed.”

Marinette grinned at him.

“Challenge accepted!” she laughed, and went behind the cases to peruse the confections on display. For a moment she looked up at the blue-eyed man, trying to get a feel for what he might like. 

“Ah ha!” she exclaimed, then went over to the last case. She grabbed tongs and put into a small bag one of her first American inspired confections: a chocolate dipped marshmallow dusted with graham cracker crumbs.

“Here you are, monsieur. Your favorite.”

The man took the bag from her and bounced a little with excitement before taking a bite.

“Oh my god, this is amazing,” he said through a mouthful of marshmallow. “Definitely my favorite.” 

Marinette smiled, and then turned to his friend, who stood there with his arms crossed, no longer scowling but still skeptical of her ability, if she was interpreting the raised eyebrow correctly.

“Ok, Monsieur Grincheaux, now it’s your turn.”

She walked over to the case of chocolate squares, once again pausing to look up at the man. He was watching her with those green eyes, and she ducked her head to avoid him seeing her cheeks heat up with a slight blush. Focusing on the task at hand, she eyed the dark chocolate squares. Her first instinct was to grab the bitterest chocolate she made, but she bit her lip for a moment and grabbed a square of bittersweet. 

Walking back around the counter, she held the bag out to him. 

Mouth twisted in a smirk, he took a small bite from his chocolate. 

“It’s very good,” he complimented, placing the rest of the square back in the bag. 

She smiled in triumph. 

“But it’s not my favorite.”

Marinette’s joy deflated a bit, and she smiled ruefully while retrieving the samples she promised him. She shivered when his fingers lightly brushed hers as she handed the box over.

“You’ll have to come back so I can try again,” she said softly.

He held her gaze for a moment, then looked away when his friend cleared his throat noisily.

“Hi, I’m still here,” he said. “Can I get six more of these? My parents would love them too.”

Marinette tore her gaze away from those green eyes and smiled brightly at the other man.

“Of course!” 

She prepared a box of the chocolate dipped marshmallows and took his payment. 

“I’m Marinette, by the way. I own this store.”

“I’m Jon, and this is Damian,” he said with a wave. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing at least him again soon.” 

He waved and ducked out the door. Damian followed behind, and looked back before he walked out the door. Holding her gaze for a moment longer, he smiled and went out. 

That smile took her breath away, and she spent the rest of the day in a pink haze.

…

Two weeks later, Marinette was serving the last group of customers at the end of a small rush when she felt someone watching her intently. Looking up from the box she’d been filling, she met the gaze of a familiar pair of green eyes. She couldn’t help the smile forming on her face, or the way her cheeks felt warm. Handing the box to her customer, she turned her attention to Damian. 

He wasn’t alone, which was a little disappointing, but she wouldn’t complain about potential customers. 

“Hello! Welcome to Lucky Charm!”

His friends were all unfairly attractive, and varying in attentiveness. One of them looked like he could fall asleep at any moment.

“Is there anything you’d like to try?” she asked the one who seemed most excited to be in her shop.

“Actually, I wanted to see if you could guess my favorite.” He grinned. “My brother Damian here told us all about it.” 

He gestured to the group, who she now guessed were all brothers. 

“Did he?” she said, turning to Damian. “I’m glad you came back so I can have a second guess. Who would like to go first?”

“Oooo me! I’m Dick, by the way.” He reached his hand out to shake hers. 

“I’m Marinette,” she replied as he squeezed her hand a little harder than she expected. “Ok Dick, let me choose your favorite.”

Choosing his didn’t take long. She went straight for the truffles and picked out the most elaborate one she had. The noise he made after popping the entire thing in his mouth was almost obscene.

“You have a gift, Marinette. Do Jason’s now.”

He pointed at the tallest of the four, who had a white streak at the front of his black hair. Jason smiled at her, a little crooked. She looked at him for a moment. He hadn’t said anything yet, and so presented a bit of a challenge, but after watching him peruse the chocolates, she thought she knew. 

She handed him a cherry cordial and his smile as he ate it was fond, as though the chocolate reminded him of a treasured memory. 

“Yep. Definitely my favorite.”

“Okay, okay, now Tim.” Dick bounced over to the only one she hadn’t met yet and dragged him over to be assessed.

“Oh, this one is easy,” she laughed, and put a small scoop of cocoa dusted espresso beans in a sample bag. “Here you are, Tim.”

He looked up at her with wide eyes after trying the beans.

“Yes, these are my favorite and I need all the beans you have in stock.” He got down on one knee. “And also will you marry me?”

Marinette bent over double laughing at his antics as Damian dragged him back to his feet, that familiar scowl back on his face.

“Stand up, idiot. She isn’t interested in you.” 

“I don’t know, Damian,” she said with a sly smile. “That's the best offer I’ve had in ages.”

“Ha! See, brat.”

“But I am afraid it would be irresponsible of me to sell you all of the espresso beans. Why don’t you start with two bags and see how it goes.”

“Ten,” he countered.

“Five is the highest I’ll go. You already look like you’re going to pass out any second. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you getting less sleep than you already do.”

His shoulders slumped, but he pulled his wallet out. She laughed again and prepared his purchase. When she handed him the paper shopping bag he clutched it to his chest.

“And you Monsieur Grincheaux, am I guessing your favorite today?” 

“You can try,” he said, one eyebrow raising in a clear challenge of her skill. 

Today, instead of a plain chocolate square she decided to go with something a little more decadent, but not too over the top. She grabbed a chocolate caramel, sure of her victory this time. 

Taking it from her with a small smile, and without breaking eye contact, he bit into the caramel. He hummed in satisfaction as he finished the treat.

“Heavenly,” he said. “But not my favorite.”

“Damn!” she groaned. “I really thought that was it.”

Marinette went over to the counter to grab him a new sample box, different from the first she had given him. She turned to the others, who stared at her as if she had three heads.

“Well, gentlemen, is there anything else I can do for you today?”

Each man bought a dozen of the chocolates he’d tried, and Tim tried to convince her to sell him more espresso beans. She laughed the entire time they were there, smiling to herself for the rest of the day.

…

“Wow, that's a lot of chocolate,” a blonde woman said as she entered, turning towards her female companion. “Is this heaven?”

Marinette laughed and welcomed them into her shop.

“I suppose if you’re here with Damian then you want me to guess your favorite?”

The women smiled and nodded, and Marinette felt confident she knew exactly what both women would like. She went to two cases and selected an item for each of them. For the dark haired woman, a chocolate dipped strawberry; for the blonde, a chocolate dipped stroopwafel. Both seemed surprised when she offered the selections.

“Oh, she’s good,” the blonde said after taking a bite of her cookie. “I need a whole box of these.”

The other woman nodded with a smile and held up four fingers. Marinette felt warm in the presence of these two, and went behind the counter to box up their requests. They walked out of the shop in their own world, holding hands, and leaving her alone with Damian.

He seemed a little nervous, which he never had before, and to break the silence, she went behind the counter to grab the sample she’d prepared for him, desperately willing herself not to break out in laughter before he tried it.

“Here. Your favorite.”

He took a bite of the chocolate orange and she could tell he tried mightily to keep a straight face. Her laughter shook her whole body when his nose wrinkled at the taste of a chocolate covered orange slice. 

“What is that,” he demanded, holding the remainder of the orange away from his body. 

Her hand covered her mouth in an attempt to calm herself.

“It’s a chocolate covered orange. I made it especially for you.” She grinned at him. “Just a little payback for being such a difficult customer.”

The smirk on his face was infuriating. 

“Do you have a real guess today, or should I just take my sample box and go?”

She narrowed her eyes at him and marched behind the counter. Taking her time to think it over, walking behind the cases slowly and considering each item she had on offer, she finally stopped at the chocolate cake. It was probably the most decadent chocolate confection in her shop, and she decided to throw caution to the wind and cut him a small slice.

Presented to him on a small plate with a fork, he took it from her. His eyes closed with the first bite and he groaned, sinfully, causing a blush to spread from her chest to the tips of her ears.

“That’s the best chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten,” he said. “But alas, not my favorite.”

“You say that, but you’re still eating it,” she retorted as he took a second bite. 

He pointed the fork at her. 

“Good does not mean favorite.” 

He took another bite, and she rolled her eyes before going behind the counter, cutting a second slice, and putting it in a box. When he handed the plate back to her, she handed him the box. 

“Instead of a sample box. If you want. I suppose you can still take one, since that’s the deal.”

“I think I will, thanks,” he said, and grabbed a different sample box than the two he’d had before and headed out, stopping just before he stepped out onto the sidewalk to look back.

“Thank you, Marinette.”

…

Damian returned several more times, and several more times he walked out of her shop with a free sample box.

…

The weather in Metropolis had turned. Marinette decided on the first truly cold day to mix up a batch of hot chocolate. She offered samples to her customers and ended up having to make several more batches as the day went on. Just as she was ladling some from her last batch into a mug for herself, the bell over the door jingled, and she looked up. A smile bloomed on her face to see Damian, back again to have her guess his favorite.

A lightbulb went off in her mind, and she picked up a second mug and filled it with hot chocolate.

“Hello, Damian. Ready to try your favorite today?”

He looked down at the mug she was topping with marshmallows and frowned. Not the scowl she was accustomed to seeing, but still she was confused by his apparent disappointment. Was he getting tired of their game?

She handed him the mug, frowning herself as he stared down at it, eyebrows furrowed, not drinking. After a moment, he sighed and lifted the mug to his lips. When he brought the mug back down, he looked at her.

“Thank you. It’s my favorite.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“It is? It really is?” 

“Yes.”

She squealed and jumped up and down, a little amazed that he managed not to spill any of the drink as she jostled him in her excitement. After a moment, she realized he seemed upset.

“If it’s your favorite,” she said quietly, “why do you seem so disappointed? Is it not good hot chocolate?”

Turning around to pick up her own mug to make sure this batch didn’t taste terrible, she was stopped by his hand on her shoulder.

“No, Marinette, it’s wonderful hot chocolate,” he said, looking away, and to her astonishment, blushing. “It’s just…I don’t have a reason to come back anymore.”

She stared at him, looking away from her with a face red to the tips of his ears.

“Well, that’s just silly,” she said. “You don’t need a reason to come here. You can come any time. You can even come when I’m not open. I live above the shop. We could hang out! Or…or we could have dinner?”

His gaze snapped to hers.

“Tuesday nights are the best for me,” he said.

“Yes, I noticed,” she laughed, relieved that he really was as interested as she was.

“Would you like to go to dinner tonight?” he asked. “It is Tuesday after all.”

She laughed.

“Come back at six-thirty.”

He smiled. 

“I’ll be here.”

She walked up to him, took his hand in hers, and leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“I’ll be waiting.”

@maribatserver

[letmebeno-one]

Short DPXDC Prompts #483

Danny runs away to the circus to work as a roadie (Helps set up and put away tents & stuff). Specifically Haley’s Circus. Danny watches from the sidelines in horror as he watches a Young Dick Grayson see his parents fall to their death. 

[letmebeno-one]

Ok, literally only two ppl have gotten this so far, and it is sad, so I must share where ppl will understand.

Y’all know what’s great about gnocchi?

You take potatoes

And you boil em

Mash em

Add a few steps,

And stick em in a stew

[letmebeno-one]

I’ve had approximately three medium potatoes worth of gnocchi, which I made myself, and I’m very pleased. And also full.

I’ve been such a real person today!

[letmebeno-one]

The Annual Roast Turkey Hunt

The people of Amity Park had resorted to all sorts of Guerilla warfare and improvised weaponry while fighting off the GIW.

One of the most effective tactics was unleashing the Fentons' cooking on unsuspecting patrols. As the Siege continued and more people became directly involved in the fighting, more cooks joined their crusade.

Which is how, the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Pamela Manson "accidentally" unleased 5 roasted turkeys on some of the GIW high command after they forced her to quarter them in the mansion. This proved to be a critical distraction that allowed the commanders to be captured without casualties.

After the battle was over, Pamela confessed that she had intended to send the turkeys to the Casper refuge before the GIW turned her home into their new base and apologized for wasting so much food as weaponry.

Her daughter, Sam, told her not to worry. Ectoplasm was a marvelous preservative and the turkeys would be perfectly edible once they had been slaughtered a second time.

The turkeys were transported to Casper High and on Thanksgiving Day group of 30 volunteers fought them to a second death and carved the remains up for the rest of the refugees. (Some sources say that Pamela participated in the carving and actually tore a wing off the largest bird with her teeth).

This was one of the greatest victories of the Siege and a moment of light-hearted fun in a dark time.

To commemorate this event, the City Council made the Roasted Turkey Hunt into a city holiday (Vlad tried to veto on account of cleanup costs, but was outvoted)

Every year the people of Amity Park gather to present their turkeys for reanimation and hunters fight them to a second death and serve the remains to the audience. There are contests for the largest bird, the best presented bird, the tastiest bird, and the most aggressive bird as well as a prize for who can collect the most wishbones.

Recent years also allow "flocks" of game birds such as pheasants and Cornish hens to be submitted.

[letmebeno-one]

Can you imagine if Amity Park were a place that got a lil messed up from the effects of the portal and the land itself became liminal?

The animals become far more in tune with ghosts and thus have less fear of humans. Now they tend to wander into town and people have to watch out for deer that wander across the roads and birds that nest low to the ground and way too close to the footpath. Cats no longer hiss at passing shadows or wandering spirits, and dogs no longer bark nor growl at passing strangers - only those who come from out of town.

The flowers grow curious and wild. Larger and thornier and wholly untamed. Abandoned buildings are quickly overrun by trailing vines, vibrant moss, and the expanding fringes of the untameable wilds that surround the town. The most beautiful blossoms bloom in the presence of shuffling mourners and weeping widows. Petals scatter the surface of freshly unearthed soil and the air is filled with an intoxicating fragrance that carries on the wind, laced with a siren's call. The cemeteries of Amity have never been so inviting.

After all, death cannot exist without an abundance of life.

Shadows flicker and move when they shouldn't. Alleyways lead to abrupt dead ends and sudden curves. An evening stroll can take you down winding labyrinths that'l lead you to the other side of town despite having walked in the opposite direction.

Something's made it's home in the woods surrounding Amity and no one knows what it is, only that it shouldn't be disturbed. Sometimes you can hear it in the dead of night, but only if you close your eyes and strain your ears. Sometimes the only thing you can hear is the screech of birds and the silence that follows.

The street lamps have all been powered with ectoplasm so they wont go out during ghost fights or disasters, and when it gets dark the streets are bathed in an eerie green glow. The shadows they cast are misshapen and flawed. It's always best to avoid those who linger beneath them.

Amity park evolves over time. The place gradually becomes influenced by Danny's Obsession as the contamination seeps into every crack and crevice. As the town becomes more and more apart of Phantom's lair it becomes more isolated. People who end up lost or in need of help in the surrounding areas somehow always stumble their way into Amity park, guided by some unknown force that pulls them towards this unearthly safe haven. Amity becomes more and more like a spider's web as Danny continues to grow, the strands of his Obsession being spun through the air and through the ground, extending beyond the borders of his lair and into the surrounding land.

Despite the dangers of living in Amity, the people who live there feel this inexplicable sense of safety. The residents insist that they've simply gotten used to the ghosts and all the little quirks that have popped up over the years. But people are more passionate than they used to be, more livelier and spirited. They say that growing up in a place like Amity builds character.

No one ever leaves Amity Park. And if anyone ever dared to ask, they'd only ever receive one answer,

There's just no place like home

[letmebeno-one]

After Danny is crowned Ghost King, Amity Park becomes detached from the mortal realm and is suspended between the two realms, much like Danny is. In an effort to combat this isolation from the rest of the world, Danny opens up his castle to the residents of Amity. (Not his Lair, just the castle he earned via conquest.)

Now the castle is more like a community center, and it’s constantly filled with both humans and ghosts coming and going. The Amity Parkers are already liminal, so visiting the Zone is actually healthy for them! The school takes the kids on regular field trips, ghost vs. human competitions get very heated, and overall everyone bonds over their shared freakiness and comes to terms with the fact they’ll never venture out into their world ever again.

But just because they’re detached from their world, doesn’t mean the residents of Amity can’t visit other worlds. :)

And it just so happens that their new community castle is filled to the brim with magic doors and ancient treasures to help aid on their noble quest of inter-dimensional grocery shopping.

[letmebeno-one]

Prompt 191

So. Apparently immortality does in fact exist. And is apparently very easily accidentally achieved, if the fact an entire city has it now. 

The GIW will be waiting a very long time to be able to drop that ghost shield, because the city doesn’t seem to be dying out anytime soon. Or at all actually. It’s been several generations now. 

They might need to request assistance. Maybe before others start to investigate now that vigilantes are becoming a semi-common thing.

[letmebeno-one]

One of my personal headcanons is that, if Amity Park is entirely liminal, Jason is always the first person to discover it and regularly goes to visit on holidays. Amity's enthusiastic and incredibly violent holidays.

So, Jason is super excited to go see his girlfriend during the Walpurgis Night festival. So excited that he has entirely thrown caution out the window and has been gushing about this festival to his henchmen.

Gotham being Gotham, word makes it back to the Rogues. While some of the meta Rogues are planning to cause havoc while the Bats are without a heavy hitter, some of the Rogues more involved in organized crime (Penguin, Two-Face, Black Mask) decide to try and take out Hood while his guard is down.

The City Spirit of Amity apparently finds this hilarious as it does nothing to stop them from crossing its borders and actually giggles at them.

Thoroughly creeped out by the disembodied laughter, the Rogues spread out to find Hood.

Penguin gets accosted by his Cousin Jack and is dragged off screen. Two-Face somehow starts a fist fight with Box Ghost over whether the number 2 or the number 4 is better. Black Mask actully holds Hood at gun point for all of 3 minutes before he gets bowled over by the brawling duo.

The Amity residents consider this is as good a reason as any to kick off the festivities a couple hours early.

The next three days proceed like the chorus of The Irish Drinking Song. The fighting is only interrupted by offers of food and alcohol.

Hood and the Rogues roll back into Gotham still drunk and slightly concussed. They all stay on friendlier terms once they sober up and at least one of them takes Jason up on his offer of going to another Amity Park Holiday.

[letmebeno-one]

Y’know, when you think about it, rope darts seem like they’d be pretty great for a zombie apocalypse. I don’t know pretty much anything about them, aside from that they exist and what they look like, but still

They don’t require ammo, so you don’t have to worry about running out, but you still have a decent amount of range, and it doesn’t look anymore physically intensive than any other weapon, which means absolutely nothing bc ppl make things look easy.

Of course, all of that relies on me not being incorrect, which is unlikely, and also have extreme precision when using, which is also unlikely. But! It’s a fun idea, no?

[letmebeno-one]

Let me scream

Let me rage and cry and weep and feel. Let me exist and be real.

Why can’t I feel real

[letmebeno-one]

the hand flappies are flying in excitement. i very much love this

There is a new Wayne Family fan account. Which wouldn't be too out of the ordinary if it weren't for the account talking about things they should have no way of knowing.

Danny can't do anything about Vlad now that he's both become mayor and wormed his way back into his parents lives. But he can at least piss him off. He does that via multiple fan accounts that point out how much better other billionaires are compared to him. Though in hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have relied on ghosts to get him information.