#... -> Actual novellas apparently

[golden--doodler]

So I read the Coraline novella for the first time today and rewatched the movie (because why not), and the novella is actually excellent. The prose is so detailed that it's inspiring as a writer, and it's difficult to articulate how good it is, but it's fantastic. It sucked me in immediately and kept me engaged the whole time.

One of my favorite moments from the novella is this lovely monologue Coraline has near the end, where she recounts a memory of her dad, and I kind of wish it was in the movie (I kind of understand why it isn't, though, considering runtime and all that). She wanted to go exploring and he took her, but then they had to flee from a swarm of wasps. Without hesitation, her dad told her to run, staying behind so that the wasps would attack him and not his daughter.

However, later, he would say that he wasn't being brave in that moment because he wasn't scared. He was acting on pure parental instinct, so protecting Coraline was the only option in his mind (which is already so 🥺)

The time he believed he was exhibiting true bravery was when he went back to get his glasses, because he already knew how dangerous the wasps were, and was actually afraid in that moment. Because in his mind, and I believe this is absolutely true, one can only exhibit true bravery if they're scared to do something and yet do it anyway.

This lesson from her dad is what convinces Coraline to go back to save her parents (besides them being her parents and how much she loves them, obviously). She's terrified out of her mind, but she goes back to save them anyway because she wants to exhibit true bravery as her dad did. And she knows her parents would do the same for her (and already have in the past).

Also, this screenshot from the movie is so adorable, like look at them all being happy, and little Coraline holding a teddy bear 😭

[oldtvandcomics]

Happy Queer Media Monday!

Today: The Route of Ice and Salt by José Luis Zárate

Dracula Daily reached the Demeter storyline, so I’ll just try and ride that hype.

(The English cover of the novella)

The Route of Ice and Salt (original title: La Ruta del Hielo y la Sal) is a Mexican novella from 1998 that retells the story of the doomed Ship Demeter from Bram Stroker’s Dracula. The captain in this version is a closeted gay man, struggling with his sexuality and his attraction to his men, but all in all happy to be going the same route over and over again, starting in a cold climate (ice), and going down south into a hot one (salt, because of their sweat). When he is tasked to transport some boxes, strange things begin to happen on his ship, and his men disappear one by one.

This novella is special for multiple reasons: It was published by a publisher that specialized on comic books in the 1990’s, when queer people in Mexican literature didn’t really happen. The fact that it is horror written by a Mexican author is also rare, as the fantasy / science fiction / horror scene in Mexico wasn’t very big at the time, and consisted mostly of translated English authors. The Route of Ice and Salt became a cult classic for Spanish scifi readers. 

It has been translated to English, and can be bought over Amazon. There also exists a French translation. And here is the original Spanish.

Queer Media Monday is an action I started to talk about some important and/or interesting parts of our queer heritage, that people, especially young people who are only just beginning to discover the wealth of stories out there, should be aware of. Please feel free to join in on the fun and make your own posts about things you personally find important!

[see-arcane]

I have bookmarked to start reading it once I return from Xmas food :3 Oh and I love male-to-male-survivor solidarity. Hope it exists in the comic too. Dracula's torture had left Jonathan on the brink of madness and starvation for months, and while Holt suffered for less time in the thrall it was unsubtle from the start. (I'd say Mina understands too, she had Dracula bleeding her then darkening, haunting and trying to control her mind 24/7 for a month.)

Also link it to the re:dracula podcast discord, there's hundreds of members!

Merry crimson. Thank you for the... ENTIRE NOVELLE. Bookbind the trilogy.

Oh, it's absolutely a heart-to-heart Harkers-to-Holt lovefest going on. While their friends are, of course, nothing but supportive, they also don't have the same kind of context or experience that Mina, Jonathan, and Robert have. Finding that mirrored connection and trauma in each other is, if not a relief, then a sort of mutual decompression; there's only so much you can talk about to someone who can't really understand that kind of abuse. Holt and the Harkers would lock onto each other in an instant.

Much as I love to wave my stuff in people's faces--and you can bet money I'm going to spam the dashboard with this Brick of a Fic--I don't want to just dump it in a Discord I've never been in before :c Anyone who thinks it'll be a good fit there should feel free to link it, but I don't want to be some goon who busts into someone else's party to start waving my work around

Merry Chrysanthemum, you're welcome for the reading homework

Also holy shit I could technically claim this as a legit trilogy, they're all public domain characters. I could one-up Goncharov with this. Hmm. Hmmmm.

👀

Thoughts, @mayhemchicken-artblog?

[crowns-of-violets-and-roses]

The Hugo Awards nominating statistics don't add up

tl;dr Along with works arbitrarily being deemed ineligible for the Hugo Awards the underlying numbers for the nominating data don't add up. The nominating statistics are junk.

Yesterday the Hugo nominating statistics for 2023 were released. Initial discussion focused on several nominees including R.F. Kuang's Babel being deemed ineligible for seemingly no reason.

After people started looking at the actual statistics a number of oddities were apparent. Heather Rose Jones has released a blog post with some graphs neatly illustrating this.

She suggests a number of hypothesis for what's going on: bloc voting, certain nominees below the cut-off being omitted or the one I now think must be true "The math is bogus. That is, the reported nomination statistics include large numbers of nominations attributed to the "top group" that do not arise from an actual nomination process."

In a previous post I discussed Peter Wilkinson's comment that showed that there are mathematical impossibilities in the statistics:

As (I think) a quite separate final remark for now, I think I have found a small mathematical impossibility in the Best Novel nomination statistics as given. Because of the way EPH works, every valid ballot gets counted in the first round of an EPH count, but ballots get eliminated as and when the last nominee on the ballot gets eliminated. It is therefore quite impressive that, of the 1,637 ballots received for Best Novel, 1,652 remained after all but the final 15 candidates had been eliminated.

To elaborate on this each nominators is given a single point divided equally between the works they nominate. In the first round the number of points equals the number of nominators.

In subsequent rounds if a work is eliminated the point is redistributed between the nominators remaining nominees. If no nominees remain it isn't redistributed. In essence the number of points represents the number of nominators who have nominees remaining on the ballot.

The number of points should never be higher than the number of nominators.

The only explanation I can see is that the statistics are made up.

Following on from Peter Wilkinson's comment Marshall Ryan Maresca ran the numbers for all categories:

His results match the ones I have previously checked. I posted about novel and fanwriter in the previous linked post and had checked novella as well.

I've now checked the other two categories where he showed the result is over 100% and my numbers add up to the same as what he has shown.

I've posted my workings below for reference.

First lets look at best novel which had 1637 nominating ballots:

My calculation matches what Peter and Marshall found.

Best novella had 1393 ballots:

This again matches Marshall's result and is the only category I checked where the points sum to less than 100% of the ballots.

Best short story has 1500 ballots but 1568.96 nominating points, again matching Marshall's results:

Best fan writer which I discussed yesterday has the largest relative difference with only 241 people nominating but 364.01 nominating points (again matching Marshall's results).

Finally let's look at the Lodestar which had 280 nominating ballots:

Again my result matches what Marshall found.

Heather Rose Jones has illustrated why the nominating statistics are anomalous. Peter Wilkinson showed that the numbers for best novel reflected a mathematically impossibility.

Yesterday after seeing Wilkinson's comment I ran the numbers and got the same result and found the even larger discrepancy in the fan writer category.

Marshall Ryan Maresca separately saw Peter Wilkinson’s comment and went through the categories much more systematically and has shown several are unusually high and that four have impossible numbers based on the reported number of ballots.

I've double checked the categories where Marshall demonstrated that there were over 100% of votes being reported and got the same results.

I do not see how the above is possible without extra votes being added to the totals. The math doesn't add up.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Cover your eyes! Announcing the Gorgon Initiative for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy

(promotional art by @theblackwarden, one of our team artists)

Okay so, we had a bunch of stretch goals in the Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Kickstarter, and we actually did hit more of them than expected, but there was one of them we didn’t hit, the playable gorgon.

The gorgon being a playable monster type was stuck at the very back of the stretch goal list, mainly because we thought of it way later than all the other stretch goals, but honestly it was one of the possibilities that I was most excited for, and apparently, so were a whole lot of our fans. The gorgon monster type would perfectly round out Eureka’s roster of playable supernatural creatures, and we would really like to make it happen, despite not really having the budget for it since we didn’t hit the stretch goal.

Here are a few of what the gorgon’s key features would have been:

>Anyone who makes direct eye-contact with the gorgon turns to stone.

>A venomous bite, making them gorgon the second playable monster type to be able to inflict a poison effect.

>Cold-blooded. Won’t feel great in low temperature environments, but won’t show up on thermal sensors either.

>Scaly skin.

>Snake hair optional.

>Claws.

>Eating people like a snake.

And all this wrapped up in Eureka’s unique humanity-focused approach to monsters. How will your PC cope with their power to instantly kill anyone who looks at them wrong, whether they want to or not? That’s the kind of character development you can look forward to with a gorgon in the party.

So here is what we are going to do to make it happen despite the budget not accounting for it. It’s going to be a patreon initiative.

(promotional art by @qsycomplainsalot, one of our team artists)

If we can get up to 50 total paid patreon subscribers by the end of June, we will put the gorgon in the game. Currently, we have 33, so if y'all can manage to make that climb to 50 by July 1st, we will promise to make time and budget to add the gorgon in to the rulebook before final release. Ultimately, even 20-ish more patreon subscribers is less money than the stretch goal would have been, but we feel that it would be a good enough addition to the game to justify, especially because it's what the fans want, and because long-term patreon support is very valuable. You get regular Eureka rulebook PDFs as a part of the patreon, and even though there is also a free demo, the more more-updates copies or Eureka floating around, the better. We want people actually playing this game, and playing better and better versions of it. We’d release it all for free if we didn’t need the money to “earn a living.”

Supporting us on patreon isn’t pure charity either. At the $3 tier, you get access to our patreon discord server where our team discusses development of the game and gets feedback from fans, as well in a vote on which projects we tackle next.

At the $5 tier and beyond, you get that, plus regular PDFs of the most current and up-to-date version of our projects. In addition to a version of the Eureka rulebook with many more features than the current free version, there’s stuff you currently can’t get anywhere else, like Eureka adventure modules, short stories, and even a novella, all unreleased anywhere else.

So, sign up to our patreon, it’s only a few dollars a month, and help out with the gorgon initiative. At the time of writing this, we have 33/50 paid subscribers, and I’ll update the goal as we go.

And below the cut, I’ll show you the current changelog for the Eureka rulebook, so you can see what all $5+ patreon subscribers are going to get in the next big patreon update coming Thursday, June 6th. This changelog isn’t even fully conclusive, as work will continue on the rulebook throughout the week to make it even better before Thursday. That's a whole lot for just $5! I will also post the rough notes that exist for the gorgon mechanics as they appear right now.

(A new version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy will be coming to $5+ patreon subscribers on the first Thursday of the month every month until final release, and after that you'll start getting the beta versions of whatever our next project turns out to be.)

CHANGELOG

CHAPTER 1

Have started working on replacing the examples of play with updated ones that actually fit the current and slightly more stable version of the rules. These will be found in various chapters. You can see them in the table of contents.

Added a Foreword, a section on other media to offer you inspiration when playing eureka, and a section on some of the subtler themes of eureka

Copy-edited Foreword

A few minor clarifications in the Making Rolls section

Added a chart explaining the percentage chances of failures, partial successes, and full successes for modifiers from -7 to +7. 

Added Heat optional rule. A whole new set of mechanics for tracking how much police attention the investigators may be drawing, as well as how law enforcement will respond. Currently a work-in-progress, but mostly functional already.

CHAPTER 2

Added the Forgery skill to write-in skills

Many new snoops have been added. 

Removed the “Seating” stat for vehicles, you know how many people can safely fit in a car

Removed the placeholder boat entries from the item list because we did not hit that kickstarter stretch goal

Added Skateboard to item list. 

Added four-wheeler to item list. 

Added Acceleration values to all vehicles in the vehicle list. Acceleration is a new stat used with the new way that Speed is calculated for Chases.

Adjusted the Driving bonus of motorcycles and dirtbikes.

Changed Large Mansion cost to 25 Wealth Points in character creation.

Started copy-editing this chapter.

CHAPTER 3

Added vehicle crashes to irregular forms of damage section

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

Completely revamped the way that Speed is calculated. 

Added a mechanic to determine how many nodes ahead a fleeing character starts.

Added an optional rule for bringing an end to chases 

Added vehicle attack rules for use during car chases

Added more guidelines for how to make your own obstacles

Added recommended numbers of nodes for chases and recommended distance between obstacles 

Added the work-in-progress random obstacle tables

On-Foot Urban Chase Obstacles table is finished but not edited

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

Increased capacity of an unfurled thing from beyond’s ‘stomach’ from three to fourteen.

Thing from beyond can now more easily attempt to engulf more victims after already containing one or more. This now prompts an escape attempt by victims inside rather than automatic escape.

Thing from beyond can now get a bonus to mimicry attempts by consuming a sample of the intended mimicry target’s DNA. 

Thing from beyond can now attempt to mimic a person they have never seen or heard by consuming a sample of their DNA, but narrator makes a hidden roll about it, so accuracy of mimicry will be unknown.

Gave acceleration value to witch’s brooms and other flying transportation

Gave Acceleration of +6 to Superhuman Speed trait

Gave vampire small bat manifestation +2 Acceleration

Gave vampire wolf manifestation +4 Acceleration 

Gave vampire massive bat beast manifestation +4 Acceleration

Gave wolfman wolf form +4 Acceleration

Gave lycanthrope wolf form +4 Acceleration

Added ability to resist curses to fairy and witch

Added ability for fairy to transfer curses to different names as a means of protecting themselves from curses. This gives them more of an incentive to collect names. 

Added a tiny bit about the fairy world

Added Monsters Eating Monsters section to provide rulings for some edge cases where monsters might eat other monsters and what would happen if they did

ROUGH GORGON DESIGN NOTES

[Notes: Turn people to stone by looking them in the eye. Definitely not a power that the Gorgon can turn on and off, they will have to cover their eyes somehow, such as dark sunglasses or a veil, to prevent it happening to everyone they make eye contact with. Also works the other way around so you could protect yourself by wearing dark sunglasses. Still works even if the Gorgon is dead, like in the legends. Does not work through cameras, reflections, images, etc. Turning to stone is permanent, basically instant kill? Works like the witch curse except with infinite duration unless a witch undoes it like a curse. If there is no eye protection, could be a reflex roll on the gorgon’s part or on an aware victim’s part to break eye-contact quickly enough for the curse not to take effect. Also, they could have some kind of bonus to Threaten because all the legends say that they look particularly frightening.

Have claws and maybe scaly skin or scales in patches, maybe snake-like eyes and snake tongue that can taste air? Sharp teeth and maybe venomous snake fangs? People will really really want their gorgons to have snake hair even though in the legends, it was only Medusa herself that had snake hair. Compromise by making it an optional rule agreed upon by narrator and player that they have snake hair. Snakes may have venomous bite attack but the trade off is that it makes it way harder to conceal the gorgon’s identity as a Gorgon.

Gorgons do not regain composure points from turning people to stone, all other monsters regain composure points by *consuming* their victims in some way, except for fairies who regain composure from playing mean pranks because it makes them happy. Keeping with the rule of monsters eating people and also the fact that the legends always describe gorgons as having snake-like trait, maybe they swallow victims whole like a snake? Great horror concept but takes a long time. Could mechanically work very very similar to thing from beyond’s composure restoration where they gain 1 composure point each day for however many days. Could advise loose and bulky clothing to cover this up. Cannot really decide how to codify this because the most obvious way would make it pretty impossible to hide for a very long time. Could probably make multiple optional rules that regain composure at different rates and digest victims at different rates. One option that gets a lot more composure over time from a single victim like the thing from beyond but is very conspicuous that entire time. Other option that digests the whole victim extremely fast so they are only conspicious for a short time but ultimately less composure from a single kill. No option to regain composure from victim without killing them, like thing from beyond. No composure restoration from normal food but can eat it to stay alive, like the thing from beyond?

Do they have proper weaknesses besides just the normal things that everybody is weak to, like sharp objects? Probably should not have the Unkillable trait, but need to come up with at least one weakness that does not stray too far from the legends. Maybe they are cold-blooded, following the snake theme? Makes them very vulnerable to cold temperatures, and jackets and blankets don’t help because they don’t produce their own body heat. Big Physical skill penalties when they are in cold environments?

What is their second mandatory monster trait? They don’t *need* one but every other monster has their powers split across two monster traits.] 

Actually it would be pretty good if they had to make a Monster(fear) Composure check if they saw their face in the mirror

Their blood is either healing or poisonous depending on if it is from the left or right side. left side kills, right side heals. Make it  veinous vs arterial blood.....  But this would have no effect on vampires 

We have GOT to get the gorgon in if we have time, it’s such a good idea

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but our Kickstarter page is still the best place to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, and where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more than just status updates, going forward you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and it’s adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

[aroaessidhe]

Queerplatonic book recs, that actually have QPRs, inspired by me seeing someone listing qpr books that were literally just queer people being friends 🤦‍♀️

These all have the main characters in queerplatonic relationships,  explicitly and/or unambiguously in most cases.

The Thread That Binds

solarpunk-fantasy about queer bookbinding witches, 2/3 MCs are an aroace & an ace in a QPR

Baker Thief

superhero fantasy with a bigender aromantic superhero / demisexual woman QPR 

Not Even Bones

YA supernatural trilogy where the main characters initially seem to be developing a romantic relationship, but eventually realise neither actually feel that way, and settle into more or less a QPR (without labels, but it’s pretty clear)

Two Dark Moons

YA fantasy where an arospec girl & ace lizard kid accidentally get fantasy-married & develop a friendship/qpr

The Wolf Among The Wild Hunt

dark fantasy novella with an aroace wolfman & nonbinary knight qpr

Our Bloody Pearl

NA fantasy with a siren & ace pirate, originally marketed as a romance, but it is pretty much a qpr and that’s what the author intended!

The Reckless Kind

historical YA with an aspec girl becoming a family with her best friend and his boyfriend

Fire Becomes Her

YA, 1920s inspired fantasy world, demiro girl breaks free of her relationship and instead ends up in a QPR with a nonbinary transmasc ace.

If It Makes You Happy

YA contemporary about a girl navigating her queerplatonic relationship with her best friend, and a possible new romantic relationship.

Royal Rescue

high fantasy with an amatonormative royal marriage system, where the aroace MC has had enough, rescues himself, and starts to dismantle the system, finding a QPR on the way

The Heretic’s Guide To Homecoming (duology)

slow introspective high fantasy following two characters on a journey, doesn’t explicitly have them define their relationship in a QPR-like way, but undeniably focuses on complex platonic relationships and narratives

Mindtouch

this is one that’s been on my tbr forever - a sort of cozy/slice of life sci-fi that centres a platonic relationship between two aliens, which is quite reminiscent of a QPR. apparently there’s like 5 books now, I’ve only read the first so far!

Archivist Wasp / Firebreak

honorable mention because it’s not explicitly a qpr - but all of the author’s works focus on platonic m/f relationships in a very aspec way, and have absolutely no romance anywhere. one of the central relationships is very much platonic soulmates/ qpr vibes (postapoc ghosty sci-fi/fantasy YA & dystopian anticapitalism)

[hieronymus-botch]

Ok, so apparently, the new Gravity Falls thing is a book written from the perspective of Bill, and I'm kind of worried, because I'm aware there is a significant contingent of fans that headcanon Bill's home dimension as Flatland from the 1884 novella of the same name and have a whole elaborate corpus of fanlore based on that, and on the one hand, this book will probably end up sending that theory the way of Tad Strange, but on the other Flatland is public domain so there's a chance it might actually confirm it which would be pretty cool. Also there's a big warning on the cover that says TRAVELS TO DIMENSIONS MEANT FOR OLDER READERS and I NEED confirmation that this means bill will be able to swear.

[britcision]

AND HERE WE ARE! Totally getting this out in February well done team! And this is gonna be our last chapter before a wee teeny tiny time skip and Jason’s finished core! What a beautiful day 🥰

We’re getting another two-parter too, because Danny and Jason refused to let me get to the end of this lil introductory arc without at least one more pile of abject fluff! But finally, we’re ready to begin the plot!

Once again, the link to the AO3 version is in the first chapter and the 15th chapter; you can see it in the text for the link if you wanna subscribe to be told when it updates 😁

First Chapter:

Previous Chapter:

——————

So That Just Happened part 1

Back in her own room on the other side of the country from Gotham, Sam Manson reclined back into giant, coffin shaped body pillow her beloved girlfriend had given her when they moved and contemplated her phone.

The brand new Wayne-chat was blowing up satisfactorily, although apparently Tim was a massive stalker too. That was probably a good thing; it meant she hadn’t actually nuked Tuck’s chances with his nerd-crush. Now they could bond over their mutual stalker tendencies.

But, did that make her revenge less effective?

It wasn’t like she was actually out to ruin his life, but she’d kinda like to leave a mark. Something that would make him think twice about letting her think he and Danny had fucking died in Gotham in her absence.

Or. Well. Gone radio silent in Gotham, which was probably actually worse because if they were dead she’d know exactly where they were.

The Wayne chat were all pretty sure Tim and Tucker were together too, and Sam’s new best friend Babs had even pulled up the feed from their living room tv somehow. Sam wasn’t exactly the tech wizard Tucker was, but… after seeing that, she disconnected her and Val’s TV from the wifi.

And settled in to remote watch Tuck get his ass kicked at Spiderheck, apparently. At least for a little while; until something else on her phone caught her attention.

It was… almost funny. While she knew she was a whole three timezones away, she’d never really felt left out before. Like maybe she should have stayed on the east coast…

Not that she regretted it, of course. She had a good job, a good school, a wonderful girlfriend who’d been so excited to get into a good school and really go to town on the business department.

(Apparently there were posters of Val’s face in the ethics classrooms. Sam refused to ask if they were golden example or dire warning.)

She was just… a long way away. Even a long portal away, and… being back with the guys, even in Gotham, made the quiet of their comfy little apartment seem lonely.

Huffing, she turned and traced her fingers through the leaves of her mimosa plant on the windowsill beside the bed. They curled gently shut at her touch, and made her smile. Just like always.

She was happy to be home. She wasn’t technically liminal enough yet that it was her haunt, but… well, for all the jokes Val made, Sam had to admit she’d put down roots. She loved her job at the greenhouses, and her internship at the botanical gardens.

She loved scaring the hell out of the dudebros in Val’s business classes who thought ethics were a waste of time. She loved sharing messages with Jazz about the boys, laughing that even three hours ahead, Tuck and Danny still couldn’t get up before them.

She was kinda considering texting Harley about Timblr too. Not like, for any particular reason; if Tim’s family weren’t gonna embarrass Tucker enough, Harley probably wouldn’t either. She’d probably think it was adorable.

Or, y’know, worrying evidence of obsession. Psych types worried about stuff like that, usually.

Sam was kinda also considering sending Harley Jazz’s number. Jazz might still be skating just on the neurosurgery side of the line, but she’d always been big into psychology. Big enough to try and triple major, and only drop to major-major-minor after the third pre-exam meltdown.

And she could use having someone else do the shrink bit on her a little more often. Although really, for that Sam should make her a professional appointment; friends didn’t ask friends to psychoanalyze their overprotective pseudo-sisters. And Jazz could use more friends.

Jazz could use a transfer to a specialty that would let her sleep once in a while, a more stable supply of fresh ecto, and about six weeks in a meditation retreat to get the accidental telepathy under control, but more friends would be good too. And less stubborn insistence on her second try for double majors.

Maybe the switch to psychiatry full time would be good for her? Or psychology. Sam was a little fuzzy on the difference, which one Jazz was currently still minoring in, and which one Harley did.

(Jazz’s current second major was neurosurgery, which Jazz insisted was totally less taxing alongside a neurology major because it was the same body part. She was the only person in her class attempting the double major though, so.)

Humming tunelessly to herself, Sam flicked back into the group chat. Babs was still sharing the feed… brows drawing in, Sam frowned at the little spider figures still fighting to the death. Now, she wasn’t as big of a gamer as she used to be, but she was pretty sure Spiderheck didn’t actually offer red berets.

Snorting a laugh, she flicked back out of the chat and opened a new one, adding both Jazz and Harley. All it needed was the perfect name… something that would grab both of their attention.

Obvious. Child’s play.

Snuggling back into her coffin pillow, Sam grinned down at her phone screen.

Danny Has A Boyfriend chat was live.

**

Having eight legs wasn’t exactly the same as suddenly having four new ones, or two new legs and two new arms. While the first two were definitely functioning as “hands”, being the ones to pick up and use all of the weapons, Tim had quickly learned that he could grip with any of the eight “feet” that were available.

Yeah, spinning a laser staff all the way down one side of his body and up the other was fucking cool.

He’d adjusted pretty quickly during their “practice” round, while they all got used to the web slinging and worked out how to open the boxes and use the weapons.

(Tucker had swung himself into the lava by accident, so they’d started a second round.)

Tim felt pretty much ready to go, although if he was honest with himself… his only actual complaint was that he didn’t have a camera.

Conner had asked Tuck at the start of their second round if his powers had been nerfed to make it “fair”. Tucker, sweet innocent Tucker, had managed to convey a sidelong look even looking at even without a face on their little blob bodies and said he didn’t think Conner needed a nerf.

He just needed to understand how the powers worked, and they could be incorporated into the system. Which, well, was like catnip for Conner.

At least Tucker seemed a lot less flustered about talking to him while they were both spiders, because Conner had started talking his ear off about TTK and hadn’t stopped since.

Tim was kinda considering swinging over and taking them both out, just to get the game moving. But Conner was cute when he got really into something, and being a headless little spider body did not seem to have changed that.

He spent the time practicing with the webs instead, spinning and tossing himself around the map. It was pretty similar to using a grapple, although he wasn’t exactly sure whether or not the web was coming from his own body.

If it was, it was coming from inside a foot, which wasn’t how actual spiders worked… but Tim was pretty sure that was on Spiderheck, not Tucker.

Being able to run around upside down was the biggest change for him, and pretty cool. Tim scuttled around under a couple of the higher platforms for a while, planning his strategy.

Honestly, he was pretty sure TTK was going to wind up fucking Conner over rather than making anything easier for him. You’d think that flying would be an advantage in Spiderheck, at least as far as avoiding lava or an out of bounds, but Tim knew pretty explicitly how far it took Conner to stop.

It wasn’t exactly on a dime, and in this game? The pace didn’t exactly allow for imprecision.

And they were wasting time talking about it rather than getting used to having an extra six hand-feet.

Still upside down, Tim twisted until he could see the other two spiders. Which was when he learned that… they did kinda have their faces on them. Just, instead of being in a face position, on the front of his body that he was seeing out of, it was just sorta… plastered across the body.

Like a photo skin mapped onto a flat blob.

He considered letting the other two know; if anyone walked into the room, they’d probably be able to see their little faces on the screen. If they were just standing around talking.

Also, the pictures’ mouths weren’t moving, which hadn’t been weird when Tim was listening to them talk and didn’t think they had mouths. Kinda was to look down on Conner’s smiling face and hear his voice at a mile a minute.

Tucker probably already knew, and might have done the faces on purpose? And if he hadn’t, it was gonna be pretty funny to see what happened when he noticed.

He’d gotten progressively better at actually talking to Conner the longer he wasn’t actually looking at him, and the focus being on the game had helped too. Face in the game? Probably gonna throw him again.

And it was probably time to get things actually moving, so he could enjoy that.

Humming softly to himself, Tim scuttled across to the loot crates, found himself a double ended lightsabre, and dropped down on Tucker and Conner’s heads.

**

“Sooooooo…” Danny clapped his hands, doing his best to make his broad grin at least look a little innocent as he floated sideways into Jason’s field of view, “not that that wasn’t adorable and dramatic and everything, super touching, buuuut…?”

He almost laughed as Jason jumped, having apparently forgotten Danny was there for a hot second, then pulled his hand back from Lady Gotham’s to glare at him. The Lady herself didn’t bother hiding her chuckle, settling back to recline once more on a cloud of smog.

“Was there something you needed, Phantom?” She asked with a dry amusement.

Danny shrugged innocently, sticking his hands in his spectral pockets. Much more dangerous than regular pockets, but he’d not been doing more than blob wrangling lately.

“Not so much what I need, just, y’know, trying to keep things on track. I dunno if you’ve got other plans for the night Jay, but we were with Frostbite for a while and if you did…” he trailed off, and Jason grimaced.

“Not what you’d call set plans, but…” Jason trailed off as well, and Danny could feel the guilt even before it tried creeping in.

Nope, not having that. He’d almost talked himself into that bullshit already tonight, none for Jason. He nodded airily, floating up to drape an arm over the larger man’s shoulder.

“All I’ve gotta do is get to bed before midnight, so I’m not rushing now that Tucker’s found himself a new ride.” Waggled eyebrows punctuated that comment with enough emphasis that Jason snickered, darker feelings pushed aside without finding purchase.

“What, you don’t wanna go watch that train wreck in person?” Jason teased with a lopsided half smile.

Danny pulled a face, both at the thought of Tucker’s goddamn disastrous attempts at flirting and… well, the possibility of running into Bruce again. Maybe Constantine.

Danny was maaaaaybe kinda avoiding the wizard since he’d started collecting the other contracts on his soul; it wasn’t like he wanted them for nefarious purposes, it was just fucking weird. He didn’t like owning people. Not even overgrown Sour Patch Kids in trench coats.

(At least Constantine was still alive though. Those unlucky souls who died still bound to Pariah damn near went through a full reboot. No memories, no personality, none of what Danny would have thought of as like, the core components of a soul.

So far nothing anyone had done had been able to help them, and Danny had a nasty feeling the final answer would be Ending them. The Observants didn’t want to, they were perfectly happy with a thrall army so long as they controlled it, but Danny was firm.

No slaves, no thralls. If the only way he could free them was through a final and permanent death… he would.

But Clockwork was still looking, and so long as the ancient of time thought there might be a way… Danny held out hope too.)

For now, he shook his head quickly, holding up both hands.

“No way man. Bruce already hates my guts, I’m gonna keep a healthy distance.”

For both their sakes, really. Jason’s mood every time Bruce had spoken to him today kinda proved he hadn’t listened to Danny’s advice and stepped up. Not that Danny had exactly expected him to; again, hated his guts.

Jason pulled a face but didn’t bother to argue; he’d probably rather not actually deal with the old man for a third time either. Instead he just shrugged, turning his attention back to Lady Gotham.

“Do you know what time it is in Gotham now, my lady?” He asked, and the really weird thing was that it didn’t actually sound weird.

Danny always felt awkward and formal whenever he tried to address a ghost by their title, and Lady Gotham was the very worst because she never bothered to hide when she was laughing at him. Which was, y’know, every time he said it.

(He wasn’t gonna just call her “Gotham” though. That would be worse, so he just sucked it up.)

On Jason’s lips, words like “my lady” just sounded right. Danny flashed back for a moment to snow in a graveyard, and Jason knelt before him quoting Shakespeare. There was something in Jason that was just made for flowery language and dramatic proclamations.

Lady Gotham clearly agreed, bestowing a fond smile upon Jason before inclining her head back for a moment, those red on black eyes glowing suddenly brighter. Looking into the living world, or right up Clockwork’s ass?

“It’s coming to ten o’clock,” she said softly, something almost like regret in her tone. The smile that she turned back to them was softer, sadder.

Danny’d feel bad about being the one to point it out, except, yeah. He’d had to. Ghosts in general didn’t exactly think about time. It was a problem for the living, so - him. And Jason.

Who didn’t seem nearly so sorry with the answer. He nodded, fingers beginning to drum against his thigh.

“Time for a few more questions, then.” That wasn’t a question, and if Danny was completely insensate or possibly locked in a sensory deprivation tank he might have warned Jason about talking to a powerful spirit like that.

It’d need to be a damn good tank for him to miss all the signs though; Jason was so in the good books. Lady Gotham just smiled and nodded, gesturing once more with her traffic cone.

“Of course. And, of course, we will have plenty of other opportunities to speak. I may spend much of my time here, but now that we have been introduced… I can also speak to you there, if you would like?”

It was a delicate question, and Danny hesitated, suddenly wondering if he should… well, elaborate again.

“Uh… yeah, sure? I’d like that?” Jason asked, clearly confused by the reticence, and that made up Danny’s mind.

“She’s not going to sound the same,” he explained quickly, giving Lady Gotham a quick smile. She smiled back, gesturing for him to continue, because none of the damn older ghosts explained shit for themselves.

Danny totally didn’t roll his eyes.

“Like, the way we talk to her in the Infinite Realms is kinda the abstract? She looks kinda human,” he added, gesturing vaguely at the Lady.

Jason’s brows furrowed for a moment, but he felt more curious than concerned.

“So… she’s an anthropomorphic personification, but not in the living world?” He asked, and Danny’s eyes nearly crossed.

He turned to Lady Gotham, hoping that this might be some weird city slang, and she laughed at him. Again.

“Yes,” she agreed with Jason instead, which absolutely did not help. “It’s easier for me to speak with you here, using eyes and ears like your own. But building and maintaining this shape in the living world is… complicated.”

“Because her real body there is the city,” Danny added, privately resolving to ask Sam what the fuck Jason was talking about later.

Honestly, Jason would probably get along real good with Mr Lancer. They both liked weird words.

At least he actually looked a little confused too now; Danny had freaked the first time Lady Gotham talked to him out in the city itself. He gave Jason a consoling pat on the shoulder.

“You’ve gotta see it to believe it, man. Just… it’s gonna be weird.” Not the most helpful, sure, but Danny was doing his best!

Jason nodded slowly, willing to table it for now, and refocused on Lady Gotham, something darker now welling in the purpose building inside him.

“So you said the Joker wasn’t from the Curse,” he said bluntly. Danny flinched, more from the lack of any aura inflection than the remnants he could feel.

Yeah, a lotta Gothamites hated the Joker specifically, but if Danny had even the faintest doubt of who’d killed Jason… the black, leaden lump of Death in Jason’s aura wiped it out.

Lady Gotham stilled too, her own smile fading as she regarded Jason. Those red and black eyes were suddenly so much older, so much sadder.

“Yes,” she agreed softly, lowering her traffic cone to rest at her hip. “Are you sure?”

‘Are you sure you want to know?’

Or ‘Are you sure you want to know now?’

Danny wouldn’t put money on which she’d intended, but it didn’t take a genius to know the answer to both. Stubborn, emotionally repressed, and self destructive as hell, bat-training only left one answer.

Jason nodded firmly now, his jaw clenching.

“Yes.”

Lady Gotham studied him for a moment longer but didn’t argue, inclining her head gently.

“Then I will be brief. While the Curse has always been part of the city, feeding on fear and despair, in recent years we have both felt… something else. I told you of the malevolence on the land?” She asked, and Jason made a soft, impatient noise.

“And that it’s where the Curse comes from, yeah. And that the Joker is different,” he prodded.

Danny made a face. He was usually very much on the side of blunt answers, and knew full well that the Lady wouldn’t actually like, break Jason for being mouthy. He was very, very used to seeing favouritism from the outside, and Jason was clearly a firm favourite.

Maybe because he was currently Gotham’s only actual part ghost child? (To be fair, Danny didn’t think that’d change much in the fullness of time; Jason was his favourite of all the bats alive or dead.)

Whatever it was, his interruption only brought a flicker of a smile to the Lady’s lips, which vanished just as quickly.

“Yes. The Curse is indeed the original manifestation of that malevolence, given form and now, purpose. But even that malevolence came from somewhere; Gotham lies on a crack between worlds, older than time. Every world in the multiverse exist along certain markers; certain weak spots. Gotham is one of them.”

“Of course it is,” Jason grumbled beside him and Danny shifted closer, brushing their shoulders together.

Personally, he figured that if Gotham was a weak point in the universe and all the bad shit just leaked through, they were probably doing pretty well for themselves. Then, he’d seen the depths of the Ghost Zone; he knew what else could be trying to leak through.

Which, obviously, meant the good luck had to end.

“When the Joker died,” Lady Gotham continued, only to be cut off by a startled “What?!” from Jason and a totally-super-dignified squawk from Danny.

“You are not gonna tell me that asshole’s a ghost!” Danny moaned, dragging his hands down his face. Honestly, if he’d missed a whole actual ghost in the city for an entire year too, he was never going to live it down.

Like any of the other ghosts had any fucking clue what it was like being half alive… or living fully inside a city spirit’s haunt. Let them visit Lady Gotham’s and see what they sensed.

“Who the hell killed the Joker?!” Jason demanded, something weirdly like panic spiking through anger. “It wasn’t fucking Bruce-”

Lady Gotham silenced them both with a pointed look, shadows growing suddenly long and dark under her stare. Then she returned her gaze to Jason, her expression sombre.

“The Joker is not a ghost, nor a halfa. Bruce Wayne resuscitated him, which may be all that kept him from becoming a manifestation himself; he was killed not only in Gotham, but by a nexus point, in rage and revenge and hatred.”

There was something dark in Lady Gotham’s eyes now, something black and burning and for half a second Danny could swear he felt that rage himself, deep in his chest.

“Something else leaked through in the short time that he was dead,” she went on, her gaze firmly locked on Jason’s and Danny couldn’t imagine just how much the older-younger halfa was feeling under its full force. “Something small, and hungry, and craving death because it was denied his - the death I believe would give it shape.”

It wasn’t enough for Jason, that much was obvious; bitterness-frustration-grief hung in the air in a cloud almost thicker than the Lady’s smogs, and this time Danny gave in to temptation.

Let his own soothing-sorrow-loss twine through, even if he didn’t exactly understand the cause of the feeling. Jason startled a little, knocked from grumbling something that hadn’t been for anyone but him, but his hand reached back for Danny’s. Squeezed tight, even as the bitterness deepened.

His eyes narrowed, he remained focused on Lady Gotham though.

“Of course. Of course he fucking brought the clown back, even after someone did the world a fucking favour,” he hissed through his teeth, then raised his voice more clearly. “So, what? No one can ever kill the Joker, or Gotham gets another curse? Who’d fucking notice at this point?”

A genuine sorrow and pain passed across Lady Gotham’s face but she schooled it, kept her own aura calm and composed… or at least in closer than they could feel. There was probably a reason she’d put space between them again.

“Not quite, but close,” she agreed softly, those red bat eyes somehow more gentle even against the black pupil. “This other entity is already here, growing each day. Every violent death in Gotham is being consumed by it, which I will admit has strengthened the truce between the Curse and myself. Neither of us wish to feed it any more than necessary.”

Danny’s brows furrowed at that and he tried to think back to everything that Frostbite had ever told him about spirits. Not the dead-people kind, but the Neverborn; entities, concepts, ideas given form. Like time, and cities.

“So… when did the Joker die?” He asked cautiously, and felt surprise jolt through Jason. Lady Gotham gave him a quick glance, and cocked her head at Jason himself.

“Not so long after Jason did. A matter of months, less than a year, though he was dead less than a few minutes.” There was something in her tone, a weight on the words that made Danny think he was on the right track… but that she didn’t want to say it.

Which. Well. That was all kinds of bad fucking news if an entity as old as Lady Gotham was wary of speaking it into being. Luckily, Danny was just a fucked up little half ghost who had absolutely no supernatural tie ins to things like belief.

And he believed in just laying all the cards on the table before he decided if he had to flip it.

“That’s really young for any kind of belief spirit,” he said bluntly, watching Lady Gotham’s eyes. Saw… just a hint of something, creasing the corners, and seriously considered reaching his aura to hers for the first time today.

It’d save so much time to just get the message through feeling, but… if she preferred words, the words had to be important, and Jason probably needed words.

Fuck, they’d all need words, because this was going to be a goddamn bat-briefing if Lady Gotham was filling them in, and Mr Emotional Repression Is My Soulmate was not going to be up to aura reads.

Chewing his lower lip, he thought through the next stage a couple times before speaking slowly, watching for any hint he was still on the right path.

“If… it’s grown fast enough that you both noticed… it’s not new?” He tried, wondering briefly if he’d retroactively doomed them all by thinking about “what else could break through” from the depths of the Zone.

Lady Gotham shook her head though, gesturing impatiently through her smoke to clear it… maybe the first sign he’d ever seen that she didn’t control it entirely.

“No. That much, we are both certain of. This entity… it is new and unformed, with no Name of its own. At the moment, all of the fear it wreaks is only feeding belief in the Curse, which is why it only has death. But there is already a will there, long before it should even have awareness. And it wants to grow.”

“Oh great, so Joker’s got a Pitty 2.0 but his is on the outside,” Jason quipped, irritation sparking through him… and Danny was kinda glad to see it, honestly. Just a little flash of the guy he’d been getting to know in all the dark.

Even Lady Gotham managed a brief smile, and didn’t actually bother refuting it; closing her eyes for a moment, she waved her hand and the clouds of smog between them solidified briefly into a model of the city. Buildings only, but with horribly empty shadows between them.

“The Joker’s death gave it an entrance, and his revival denied it his shape, his Name, and the fear he commands. But it is no longer fixated on killing the Joker - and it was, for several years. It pushed him before it had the power for anything else, driving him further, feeding poison to those around him, trying to have him killed so that it could become The Joker, the pure essence of every bloody mark the clown left on Gotham. And it very nearly succeeded,” she added softly, her gaze turning back to Jason with an almost tangible sorrow.

Something in Danny’s gut iced over, and suddenly he was really, really glad he didn’t know what she was thinking.

**

Bruce looked better as he rose from the table, Diana decided, watching her old friend closely. For all that he’d come with an actual reason for his doom and gloom (for a change), his attitude during the briefing was positively relaxed compared to their own discussion that followed.

He would still be worrying and fretting, she knew him too well to believe anything else, and… she knew why. While Diana had no children of her own (though she had met and heard of other versions of herself who had), she did dearly love her own proteges, and those of her friends.

She remembered Jason as the young, sweet boy who’d stumbled over every word he said to her and stared at her like she’d hung the stars. She remembered Bruce’s grief, Batman’s rage, and the shadow that hung over the Dark Knight with every step until Tim Drake took him to heel.

She knew that there was too much there, the guilt and pain and loss and grief for Bruce to see Jason objectively, and she didn’t begrudge him that. Nor did she condone it.

It only hurt both men, and while she would not give her opinion when it wasn’t wanted… well, she was aware Bruce spoke to Clark of his worries around Jason much more often than he would to her. This time though, she’d had no choice.

She knew the man well enough to know what was truly scaring him in this situation; that Jason would be taken from him again. He was at least as upset by this “Danny” boy as the thought of war with an entire realm.

It would have been cute, if he wasn’t a grown adult man who prided himself on critical thinking. Or actively forcing his son away with his own actions at every turn.

Still, there was one piece of counsel she could give. The thing he hated the most of all was a mystery. And while she also didn’t usually condone his stalking-as-a-sign-of-affection…

“Batman.”

He stopped in the doorway but didn’t look back, still as a statue. At least he was listening.

A fond smile pulling across her lips, Diana shook her head. Let the formal tones of Wonder Woman return to the voice of a friend.

“You see many dangers in the unknown. Perhaps you might reassure yourself by getting to know young Danny Fenton as a person, rather than a potential threat.”

He stayed frozen in the doorway for a moment longer, then nodded his head sharply and swept away.

Diana stifled a chuckle. Honestly, for all Constantine had come to her as if the world were about to end… all of their problems with this Infinite Realm were perfectly clear to her.

The American government had overstepped drastically with their Anti Ecto Acts and would be brought to heel.

The new ruler of the Infinite Realms had turned their head in this direction, and guided them to what must be fixed.

And young Jason Todd, while far from the only hero who had died and returned, had been chosen by this ruler to be favoured with protection, in exchange for service.

Of course, it may all blow out of control and become as dire as her dear friend already seemed to believe it was, but for all Bruce was constantly creating contingencies and backup plans, he very rarely had to use most of them.

She turned her attention to John Constantine instead, the magician seeming much less inclined to make himself scarce than usual. At least he had also calmed considerably, and was even smiling in his own crooked fashion after Bruce.

“You know he’s gonna go stalk that poor kid even more now?” He asked sardonically, pulling another cigarette from his pack but not reaching for the lighter.

Diana hesitated for a moment.

She’d meant for Bruce to talk to Danny, preferably directly. But Bruce did not like talking to new people; not without thorough research and a chance to prepare.

Then she shrugged.

“If it will keep him from disrupting our already tense situation with the Infinite Realms, better that he distract himself with more fatherly concerns,” she said simply.

Constantine snickered again, then frowned.

“Wait, fatherly concerns? For some kid his boy’s known like, a week?”

This time, Diana didn’t bother to restrain her smile, glancing down at the phone in her pocket.

“Merely a week, perhaps, but according to Wonder Girl they have already been caught at least once without their trousers.”

Which hadn’t been part of the official presentation, of course. Nor apparently whatever Bruce had already shared with Constantine, as the mage promptly nearly swallowed his unlit cigarette and began choking.

Diana gave him a carefully gauged slap to the back, sending the now soaked and crumpled smoke across the meeting table, but politely did not laugh.

**

Jason was pretty sure he was going to puke. Or scream. Maybe both.

It wasn’t bad enough that Bruce had refused to kill the Joker, to stop him from killing anyone else, no, he’d fucking brought him back to life. Given the fucking Joker the chance that none of his victims ever got.

None of them except Jason.

And now apparently even wanting the bastard dead was all part of some master fucking plan to make the fucking asshole even worse.

He’d wanted Bruce to be the one to avenge him from the second Tallia pulled him out of the Lazarus Pit, but when he’d come to Gotham… when his plans to carve out his turf, provoke the Joker with an old alias, set the trap had suddenly become stuffing heads in a bag…

He’d thought about it. A lot. About just hunting the fucker down, putting a bullet between his eyes, and leaving him in the Batcave deader than dead.

Had nearly done it, but no. He’d wanted… he’d wanted Bruce to choose him. To put him first, to say he loved Jason more than some moral stance, to value Tim’s life more, and Steph, and Cass, over the fucking scum who would have happily killed every last one of them with a smile on his face just to see if Bruce finally broke.

And Bruce hadn’t.

Bruce had nearly killed him.

And in and around that whole mess, he’d never gotten around to actually thinking about how his fucking daddy issues had saved the Joker’s life for… years, by now.

Jason wasn’t killing anymore. Not like, actively. Intentionally. Not because he thought Bruce was right; something, someone, had to be willing to stand up for the people of Gotham and actually stop fuckers like the Joker from killing them.

But… well, Crime Alley was his territory, and a scared enemy, a cowed enemy who’d seen their life in Jason’s hands and knew just how easily he could end it was more useful than dealing with the power vacuum, or the next million upstarts who’d think they knew better, would be better, and could take on the Red Hood themselves.

Ironically, keeping fuckers like Black Mask and Great White Shark alive and in power (at severely reduced scale) saved him time. Kept him from dealing with all those upstarts himself.

That was how Waylon had put it, back when Jason was considering adding to his bag of heads. It was… like farming. Keep them low, but keep them stable. Break anything new they went for, or anything that got on his turf.

Let them harvest some of the power hungry fucks who thought they could take a piece of the Alley.

And then Dick had noticed. And reached out. And didn’t stop until Jason gave in and reached back.

When Danny came to Gotham. Somehow, it all swung back around to Danny.

And the fact that if he actually believed what he told Bruce, he could have gone to kill the clown himself at any time since returning to the city.

And he never had. The time wasn’t right. Something came up. Something went wrong, or broke, or distracted him before he thought too hard about it.

Killing the Joker hadn’t even been in his original plans for his triumphant return. He’d just wanted to take back the Alley, prove his point to Bruce. Keep his home safe.

When had killing the Joker become such a big part of the plan? Who the fuck had gotten into his fucking head, redefined him as the last moment of his fucking life, demanded his new life be all about how the last one ended?

Eyes narrowing, he looked searchingly into Lady Gotham’s face just in time to catch her slow nod, like she’d heard every thought. Like he’d been speaking aloud.

“I could not stop it from reaching to you,” she said softly, her voice heavy with sadness, “but I could… distract. Get in the way, make its path harder. That you did not give in…”

Something soft, something proud flickered in her eyes again, and it made him want to squirm.

“You may not have consciously known that you fought yet another enemy, yet you triumphed regardless. My dear Jason…” she sighed, heavy with sorrow, and reached out a hand again as though to cup his face.

Jason found himself moving to meet her before he even thought about it. Stopped himself just before it actually got him anywhere.

He wasn’t done being angry yet. He wasn’t even sure he’d actually started. If he could ever, would ever, be angry enough for this.

There was something building in him like a tide, riding high on resentment and his spiralling thoughts. It wasn’t green tinted like the pit rage, his vision was still clear… if anything, it felt sharper, like everything had been dialled up to eleven. Like the terrible, roaring anger was seeking a target.

“I am sorry that you have been robbed of your justice in this way,” Lady Gotham said quietly and once again Jason’s focus narrowed down with her intensity, like she was the only real thing in the world, “that even your own emotions of this, your death, have been used against you. It is…”

She hesitated, actually looking to Danny for help herself for the first time. Judging from the sudden low horror Jason could feel from the other man, he might actually be under reacting.

Or the tide was still rising.

He felt like razing the whole city to the fucking ground, with his own hands, brick by brick. Or puking. Or screaming until his lungs ripped out of his chest, if only he could move.

It felt like something had reached into his brain and cranked up the contrast, made the already neon brights of the Ghost Zone brighter, the shadows darker, the very air prickling at his skin like needles with the urge to do something.

Because if he moved, did anything, he wouldn’t be able to stop. Not when every muscle ached to tear the whole universe apart.

He was almost a passenger in his own skin as something else, a different, slow boiling rage barely under control clamped him in a vice.

“So y’know we talked about not asking about how ghosts died?” Danny said slowly, his voice suddenly low and hoarse.

Jason managed a stiff nod, every muscle twanging tight with tension. It had been pretty important, pre-Ghost-Zone.

And he could put the pieces together, right from the tight hot center of that ball of rage that he was pretty sure was his own core.

“This is worse,” he said gruffly, not bothering to look over. Didn’t have to, when he could feel the face Danny was pulling through the worry-worry-fear-anger-horror still surrounding him.

He… fuck. He was a little afraid of what he might do, if there was even an ounce of pity on Danny’s face, and honestly that panicked him more than anything else. All the rage wanted was a target, and he didn’t think he’d be able to choose what it was.

Danny nodded anyway, making a conscious effort to try and reign his aura in. Like he couldn’t hear the subtext, feel it in Jason’s, or like he could and didn’t care.

It left him feeling cold, icy and alone, but still relieved under the echoing slam of rage in his veins. A little more alone in his own head. A little less watched. Judged. Not good enough.

“Like, worse than worse, dude. Ghosts will throw down and rip each other apart just for fun and no one’s actually hurt, but… you don’t fuck with somebody’s death. You just don’t. It’s the worst thing you could do to a ghost, worse than Ending them. Not even Pariah Dark…”

“Exactly,” Lady Gotham hissed, baring her teeth in something not even remotely a smile, full cheeks and lips suddenly gaunt and hollow as the teeth became fangs. It lasted barely a moment, a flicker before it faded, but it snapped Jason straight out of his fury with a sudden shock of terror.

She’d been intimidating before. Effortlessly, gracefully powerful and commanding, the kind of person people would beg to step on them without a hint of aggression. Those teeth though… just the moment of that rage, of something so powerful suddenly nothing but raw, feral danger…

It wasn’t even directed at him but it still felt like a bucket of cold water down his spine. An instant urge to duck his head, show his throat, convince this much larger predator that he wasn’t a threat.

She was immediately contrite, turning her head away as her face cast into shadow, only the red pupils still visible.

“My apologies. It is… less personal for me than it is for you, yet it seems still too close to my heart.”

Forcing himself to swallow, Jason took a couple of deep, heavy breaths. The anger was still there, kind of. He could feel it in an almost distant way, past the hammering of his heart, but it wasn’t all he was anymore.

It was just… a feeling now. One he was in control of.

The shadows were just shadows again. The green of the Zone no longer blinding.

He blew the last breath out slowly, and let the remnants of the anger go with it.

“No, uh… it’s fine. I think that helped, actually,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and suddenly embarrassed at just how tense he’d become.

Justified, apparently, from both the other ghosts’ reactions, but that didn’t mean Jason wanted to feel so out of control. How close to just… being carried away by the anger.

No matter what anyone else said, no matter what the damn Pit or Joker-monster or whatever the fuck else tried to do, Jason Todd was not going to be defined by rage.

For one thing, he’d never live it down.

Danny sagged beside him, relief as tangible as that last breath flowing out of him, despite the core of concern underneath. That was fine; Jason was still concerned too.

And maybe thinking about his stash of ecto-candies again, but he honestly didn’t feel half as drained this time. He wasn’t even scared of Lady Gotham anymore - that moment had ended as soon as it started. As soon as she’d tucked those terrifying needle-like teeth away. Now she just looked…

Proud. Proud, and fond, and so, so sad. Like Alfred had been the first time he presented Jason with his very own Robin suit for the field.

It choked something inside Jason just a little, made his throat tight and breath hitch.

“You are so much more than anyone gives you credit for, Jason Todd,” she said softly, her sclera softening briefly to a bright, sunshine yellow. Like the cape he’d drowned in as a boy flying from her rooftops, “and they all think far better of you than you believe.”

That caught him up for a moment, confusion pulling into the absolute fucking mess of emotions he was pretty sure he was projecting to all and sundry.

Then Danny sighed heavily and draped himself sideways over Jason’s shoulders like a particularly lanky and bony scarf.

“Yeah, yeah, and your ghost mom is fucking terrifying. Did not need that reminder, Ladyship,” he tossed at Lady Gotham with a cheeky wink, effectively steam rolling the tension yet again.

Jason could have kissed him, but from the angle Danny had flopped on, his options were armpit or hip, and neither appealed.

Sassy comebacks, he could handle. Reassurances that people didn’t think he was a complete sack of shit, apparently not.

The whole batfam were just perfect poster kids for mental health, alright?

The Lady herself laughed softly and inclined her head, not arguing the point.

“Of course. Still, I am sorry Jason.”

He cut her off this time, raising both hands and stopping just short of reaching for the back of his neck again, which was about where Danny’s waist was sat.

“Don’t be. I… think I needed to be knocked out of my head there. I really do feel better now,” he added, and Danny huffed a noncommittal noise and ruffled his hair.

“Yeah, well. You’re allowed to be pissed about it,” Danny informed him like he wasn’t sure if Jason actually knew that.

Which, obviously, Jason absolutely wasn’t. He had a pit ghost baby to teach good habits to, and Danny still had no idea what Jason was like when he actually lost control of the anger. But he could appreciate the sentiment.

And deflect like a Robin.

“Oh, is that a royal decree?” He asked archly, and while this noise was no more coherent than the last it was decidedly more whiny and drawn out into wordless protest.

Which still ended in a very quiet “yes.”

Luckily, quiet enough that Jason could pretend he didn’t hear it.

“Anyway, I’m good. Still gonna kick this thing’s ass for messing with my head, and maybe put it in a blender, but for now I’m good. Chill vibes only for Pitty,” he added with a roll of his eyes when Danny made a confused little chirping sound.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly to herself and nodded, resettling herself to recline on her smog clouds once more.

“Indeed. You currently have more pressing concerns; as little as I enjoy the present situation, it can wait. The Curse and I can monitor this new being’s behaviour through the rogues it has affected; they are noticeably becoming more violent, while the Curse is swaying the rest towards being less. For contrast,” she added before Jason could ask.

Which… might actually explain why Riddler had tossed a broken game box at Croc and the Wayne gala rather than trying to fix it. He’d stripped most of the interesting stuff according to Tim’s report, sure, but Nygma never let a thread go.

So he wasn’t gonna be on this new bad guy’s kill list.

Nor would Waylon, and Harley had been more destructive than homicidal for years. Already making a mental list on the events he’d caught wind of in the last few weeks, Jason didn’t even realise the conversation had moved on without him until Danny stuck a wet finger in his ear.

“What the actual fuck!” Jason demanded, trying to shrug the ghost off his shoulders. And while there was deadass no weight to Danny in this form, it was frankly unfair that he just rolled with the movement like he also didn’t have bones, snickering.

“You had Resting Bat Face,” he explained with a grin, twisting upwards to look down at him in a way that actually really shouldn’t have been doable with a human spine - and Jason had grown up around Dick Grayson, who ran the limit of everything a human spine was capable of.

“He does best with a problem to solve,” Lady Gotham noted with a sly amusement. “This one, however, has no time limit as yet. If I thought you would listen, I would have insisted on telling you at a later date.”

And that was just pointed enough that Jason rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks flush in spite of himself. He just… liked to have all of the information. It’s not like he was Bruce.

“Yeah, well, I like to know what I’m dealing with,” he grumbled, folding his arms and scowling at Danny. Who grinned back and ruffled his hair.

“Well, either way. Not like you need to pull the spandex back on imminently, right? There’s plenty of bats around,” he offered hopefully, and Jason felt a quick pang.

Danny… really didn’t want him to have to be a vigilante. He could taste it in the hope, in the worry, in everything his king was putting off. For some reason, he seemed to think Jason had come back to life and left the masks behind.

Like he hadn’t even thought about why Jason was still in fighting shape to be his fucking knight in the first place.

He knew he’d be annoyed if it was anyone else trying to insist he stay out of the game. He’d shot at Dick more than once for suggesting he go home when he was injured; the rest knew better than to say a word.

He hadn’t even considered giving up the vigilante life when he came back from the dead… except that brief period when he’d sort of been a rogue. He’d never even been a normal crime lord, most of them were way less hands on.

If he looked at the future now, he couldn’t imagine ever giving it up. The rogues would apparently literally always be a problem; the city would always need protectors.

That thought had never made him sad before, and yet…

Was it really the first time anyone had suggested he’d done enough? He’d died, and sure Jason was back now, but Danny seemed to really, actually believe he could stop wearing the mask.

That he’d given enough, given everything, and could and should just have a peaceful life now.

It made him almost ashamed to admit that he’d never even considered the possibility.

For all Jason railed against teen heroes, he’d only stopped being one for a temporary villain arc. Which was apparently at least partially supernaturally motivated, which was fun.

It’d shut Bruce up if Jason ever dragged that out in an argument, but Bruce already thought Jason was too volatile and susceptible to being controlled. Never mind that he hadn’t actually killed the Joker and started the apocalypse or whatever, all Bruce would hear was “someone else made Jason a villain so it could happen again”.

He’d probably try and take Jason off the case of this mystic whatever that was feeding on death. Fuck that noise. Until Bruce got a face to face with Lady G, Jason probably wouldn’t even tell him the details.

(Honestly, if there was even half a chance of avoiding that subject altogether, he’d take it. Bruce got ornery about magic in his city in a way none of the Robins had ever enjoyed dealing with, and that had been back when he and Jason had a good relationship.

Now… well, Constantine had been sticking around, so hopefully he could handle that mess and Jason could just get the actual work done.)

He gave Danny his best reassuring smile anyway, rolling his eyes and reaching to try and ruffle his hair. Found that he actually couldn’t quite reach with the way Danny was twisted around him, which was kinda weird.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard Frostbite. Side effects of the forming core could be pretty much fucking anything, and til Pitty pops out I’m not even gonna do research on anything that’ll set us off.”

Which wasn’t the same as saying he wouldn’t start the case. He could arrange what he already knew, start a plan of action, and organise his next steps without doing any additional research, after all.

Something about Lady Gotham’s delicately arching eyebrow let him know that she, at least, was onto his bullshit. Lucky for Jason, Danny just accepted the words, grinning and twisting around to wrap his whole head in a hug.

And then flowed back off his shoulders like a fucking liquid before Jason could worry about having to breathe.

“That’s great! Oh, and we should set up your haunt too! That’ll help!” Danny enthused brightly, clapping his hands and doing his best impression of a totally solid human that was apparently not his default.

Maybe it was a ghost thing.

Just so long as he never did it in human form, Jason could ignore that he definitely shoulda felt a ribcage being squeezed like that…

And no, Jason absolutely wasn’t wondering about what else Danny could use that noodley flexibility for. Totally not letting Dick know either… for competitive gymnast reasons, definitely.

No one wanted to deal with that.

And then his brain fizzled to a halt as Danny’s actual words penetrated and a sliver of concern slipped in.

Because… yeah. They’d talked about haunts. It was practically the first topic on the list; what to do in someone else’s haunt, what to never ever do even near someone else’s haunt, what a haunt meant to a ghost.

It was soul-underwear again, one of the most sacred parts of a person’s soul; their truest, actual home. Fortress and power source.

Halfas had to have them too, since Danny and Frostbite had both insisted that keeping and maintaining his haunt were going to be vital to his health while his cores stabilized. As in, Frostbite told him not to leave it for long and suggested redecorating as a soothing activity.

(Danny’s was officially Amity Park, which had not escaped Jason’s notice when he was apparently being put on haunt-arrest. It might have been an older halfa thing; very few ghosts actually stayed in their haunts all the time, although Jason could see the temptation.

It also might have been something else, and Jason had this thing about secrets and surprises down the line. He’d ask later, if he couldn’t work it out himself.)

Danny called Crime Alley Jason’s haunt, and that had felt right from the first time he’d said it. Crime Alley was his, his territory, his space, his home more than anywhere else. He knew it inside and out, could feel its moods and taste the changes in the air when something went wrong.

Baby ghosts usually couldn’t claim a haunt of any size as their own, but Jason knew that the Alley belonged to him.

That was before he’d met Lady Gotham. And if she was the spirit of the whole city… maybe he’d been wrong? Maybe it was just through her that he knew it so well?

He found himself looking to her uncertainly, searching her face in case there was any trace of displeasure. Any sign she didn’t want another ghost’s haunt in… well, what was kinda her physical body.

He couldn’t see or feel anything, but when she’d already been so careful about keeping her feelings her own… no better time to ask, really.

“Yeah… about that…” this time he did scratch the back of his neck, Danny safely down beside him. Which was about when he realized that he had no clue how to word the question.

Haunts were personal, he knew that much.

Then again, Lady Gotham said she was his ghost-mom. That had to include stupid questions. Blunt it was.

“Is it weird if I have a haunt in the city? I mean, it’s obviously your city, duh, but how do I… it feels like I’m squatting in your closet,” he said finally, giving up on not being just the most awkward creature in a thousand mile radius.

Danny’s mouth opened and closed a few times, excitement fading to a confused fascination as his words sunk in.

“Y’know, that’s a really good point… except it’s more like he’s squatting in your kidneys,” he pointed out to Lady Gotham, turning to face her too.

Lady Gotham chuckled softly and took a slow drag from her traffic cone, which had almost stopped smoking.

“Ah, I forget the limitations of a halfa’s knowledge… all ghosts begin with a haunt within their parent’s, Jason. From the moment you returned to my arms I opened up the Alley for you, and it has been yours ever since.” She paused to blow out a long plume of smog, which shaped itself into a tiny row of very familiar buildings.

Jason didn’t have to see more than a couple to know what they were; he could feel it right down to his core.

“When you are older, stronger, you may desire another, although being in the mortal world is already a degree of distance, but Crime Alley will always be your first,” Lady Gotham continued as Crime Alley bloomed from the smog before them, tiny and yet more than just an image, more than just a replica; the real thing in the scope of her power.

There were no lights in tiny windows, nothing moving through the smog, and yet it was still clearly alive. No, filled with things that were alive, people and noise and even the rats.

And it was his. His beating heart.

Lady Gotham’s smile was a tender beacon in the fog, her hands coming up to caress the smoking Crime Alley and gently waft it in his direction.

“Every crumbling brick, every pothole, every shadow. It is a heavy responsibility, and one I shall share with you until you decide you no longer need my help, but it will always be yours, Jason. It would not have accepted anyone else.”

The cluster of smoggy buildings fell apart as they reached Jason and for a moment he nearly panicked trying to keep them together, but… he was suddenly washed in a wave of old, familiar scent.

Not the burned rubber and pollution of all the rest of the smogs, the constant smell of the city. This was… floral. Soft, and sweet, and chemical in the way that cheap perfumes always were because they couldn’t have afforded the good ones.

Watered down, because they could get even that so rarely that she would begin refilling the bottle with water when it was barely half empty. Catherine Todd’s favourite perfume.

It hadn’t covered the stink of cigarettes and worse coming from the very walls of their apartment; he’d only smelled it when she was holding him close. Shielding him from Willis’s rage, tucking him into bed, cuddled up on the couch to wait out the rain or sickness.

The smell of home.

It brought tears to his eyes, the pressure of the day threatening to spill over and overwhelm him again.

Intellectually, it felt like another moment that should have been terrifying. More than any show of teeth, this was her strength. Who and what she was, she could break him with a wave of her hand, a wisp of smoke, and yet…

He felt warm. Comforted. Wrapped in her smile and at peace in a way he hadn’t in… fuck it had been years.

There was something else too, a layer under the flowers that only the deepest detective-trained parts of him tried to pluck apart; it was part of the home smell, inextricable, but it didn’t make sense. Wasn’t the perfume. Just the very faintest hint of baking far away, and Catherine Todd had never been able to afford…

Oh.

Of course not. Because Catherine Todd, his mother in every possible sense of the word but one, had never met Alfred.

**

So, the good news: Tucker was currently in the lead for Spiderheck. Bad news: they’d finished the first set (Tim won, but he’d been two ahead from the start which was cheating), and… the game had ticked directly over into another set.

They hadn’t been planning on changing any settings, so it was fine, and Conner and Tim hadn’t noticed anything wrong.

But… Tucker was beginning to worry, just a little. He’d done video games before, with Danny and Sam; no worries, they’d taken a turn directly in pretty much every game they’d played together.

Just, y’know, he knew Danny and Sam really well. And Tim and Conner were really cool, and he understood a lot more about how the Supers worked than he ever had before? But, maybe that was why he’d kinda screwed up.

Because he wanted things to be fair, and didn’t want them to think he’d given himself extra advantages. So they were all spiders, all the same.

And he wasn’t completely sure where the meta controls were?

Danny and Sam always insisted he have a version of the controller somewhere, so they could flick to the menu (and sometimes run riot there too). Last time they did Spiderheck, he’d put the buttons on his stomach, so Danny and Sam could try and hit them for an extra level of difficulty.

But he wanted to be fair. Didn’t want extra powers. And, apparently, technopathy had sorta maybe converted that wish into him not being able to feel it while he was spidered up.

All his combat moves were fine! The break, grab, web commands were smooth and easy, just like every other time he did them. Different attacks, no worries. And, obviously, he hadn’t stood still and tried to look for the code, because they were playing Spiderheck and that was a really easy way to get wiped.

Dodging another swinging attack from Tim, he scuttled at top speed across the platform and jumped behind a box. No weapons here, and he scanned quickly for the next spawn point.

Which, normally, shoulda shown up on two levels; the normal game vision, and the white lined underlay of the code, which he could always see through from top to bottom of the level.

(This was usually an active impediment rather than an advantage in Spiderheck; it was way too hard to know what he could stand on.)

He couldn’t see one, just the platform above and the wall behind.

Maybe he should take an early death, just to give himself a little time to work this out. Just so he could stop worrying. He was 21, he’d had these powers for years, he totally knew how they worked by now.

He just, maybe, might have gotten overconfident.

Danny would never let him live it down if they all had to be rescued from Spiderheck.

And, way more importantly, Tim Drake-Wayne and his super hot boyfriend would only remember him as the loser who couldn’t even control his powers.

Nope. Absolutely not.

A loud buzzing heralded the arrival of one of the spinning laser traps, and Tucker made up his mind. Just one early death. No worries. He had a two win lead, and honestly he’d rather lose the set than admit he’d fucked up.

Scuttling “away” from Tim’s probable next attack, Tucker scurried into the path of the spinning laser trap.

And saw, at the very last second, Conner swinging in from the other side, directly into a laser.

Shit.

**

Sam was comfortably snuggled down into her pillows and thoroughly enjoying the chaos her new chat was creating when she finally heard the door. A little too buried to easily get up, or look particularly graceful doing it, so instead she stuck a hand straight up into the air.

“In here, love!”

And, like the angel of mercy that she was, Val only made her wait ten minutes to get out of all of her winter gear and put the kettle on before coming to save her from her fate.

“Not the fastest rescue I’ve received,” Sam teased, even as Val hauled her easily to her feet. Val grinned back and pulled her in for a quick peck.

“I wasn’t aware I was being timed. I can do better.”

“I bet you can,” Sam laughed, draping her arms around her girlfriend’s shoulders. Val gave her another, deeper kiss, then drew back enough to press their foreheads together.

“So, how was Gotham? I saw Danny made the front page,” she teased back, and Sam hesitated.

In amongst all of their various plans for disaster, it hadn’t really come up that whatever they did at the party, it was sure to make the gossip rags. Front page though? That was probably an achievement.

And, given what she herself had done, really annoying.

“What, they gave the front page to him? I blatantly accused at least two CEOs and Lex Luthor of weaponizing misogyny, with citations, and Danny got the front page?” She huffed, drawing back and folding her arms, fully intent on turning away to sulk, but not remotely objecting when Val’s arms snuck around her waist and pulled her back in.

Val’s chin tucked in over her shoulder and the taller woman snickered.

“I know, right? Sadly cold hard facts just fade away in the face of a scandal.” Val sighed dramatically, then dropped a kiss on the side of Sam’s neck. “You’re on page seven. It’s mostly about your parents, but using Lex’s name got a couple other points in. Oh, and Vicki Vale did a three page piece on how Brucie Wayne specifically upholds the patriarchy. I think she quoted you.”

Sam considered that for a moment, her arms automatically coming around to cover Val’s for a brief squeeze. It wasn’t like she’d actually been planning to change anything at the gala. Mostly she’d just wanted to be heard.

It could be an interesting starting point, though. Especially since she got to pick her outfit for the next gala; her mother hadn’t even specified that it had to be a dress on the document, which was definitely a peace offering.

Cass Wayne had looked really good in that suit.

Her cheeks suddenly hot for absolutely no reason, Sam twisted in Val’s arms to kiss her again.

“I’m sorry my mom’s… the worst,” she finished lamely, wrapping her arms around Val again.

The whole fall-from-grace thing may have been seven years ago, and Val had more than moved on, but. Well. Sam didn’t exactly believe all the scars had healed.

Especially when Val stilled for a moment in her arms.

Then she chuckled, wrapping her arms a littler tighter around Sam and lifting her off her feet.

“Hey, at least she’s not actually a bigot. It’s always nicer to be hated personally than in general, y’know?” She teased, echoing something Sam was pretty sure Danny had said to her back in her Phantom-hunting days.

Sam huffed and wrapped her legs around Val’s waist too, raining kisses down on her face.

“Yeah, well, she can still shove it up her ass. You’re my date for the next gala, if you actually want to come.”

Which.

Well.

Was about when she realized that the next gala was probably going to be extra interesting, after all their shenanigans. Maybe they should have been more discrete? More careful?

Her worry must have shown on her face, because Val gave her a very gentle bounce to shake her out of it.

“Hey. Samantha Manson. I would be delighted to go to the next gala with you, and tell all the little journalists that yeah, I’m that Val,” she said firmly once Sam had refocused on her. Then she grinned. “I’ll even be on my best behaviour and not one up Danny until the second one.”

That made Sam laugh again, hugging on tight even as Val turned and easily carried her through to their little kitchenette and sat her up on one of the counters.

“Hey, did you get that autograph from Harley for me by the way? I wanna send it to my dad for his birthday,” she added, sneaking another kiss and then pulling a pair of mugs next to the steaming kettle.

Sam considered hopping off the counter. Didn’t bother, reaching behind herself instead to pull her favourite tea for the month and drop a bag into her mug.

“Yeah, a couple actually. And she said if we wanna meet Ivy she’ll let us know when they’re back on the west coast, but it won’t be any time soon.” That hadn’t been particularly surprising, but it still made Sam a little sad.

Just another reminder that they were on the outside looking in all the way over here.

Valerie stilled, coming back and resting both hands on Sam’s thighs.

“Do you miss being on the east coast?” She asked quietly, those gorgeous green eyes so large and gentle.

Sam hesitated a moment longer, then sighed and let her head thunk back against the cupboard behind her.

“Honestly, I think I just miss being closer to everyone. It’s not far for Danny with the Zone, but if you or I wanna visit anyone we have to hop on an airplane or spend weeks driving, neither of which are good for the environment. We just… get forgotten out here, stuck out of the loop.”

Val raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her face but eyes still soft with understanding.

“Oh, like you’re one to talk. I thought I’d pick up a new phone and rejoin the group chat that day, but suddenly I gotta wait nearly a week for “new secrets”,” she teased and Sam sighed, shaking her head. Not quite able to lift all the way out of her funk.

“Yeah, I know… it probably woulda been fine, Danny shouldn’t have dropped anything at all in the main chat if he didn’t want everyone to see it, I just…”

“Wanted to be more sensitive than he is,” Val finished the sentence, leaning in for another kiss. Not needing to reach up even with Sam sat on the counter. “That’s why I’m still dating you.”

It did pull a smile from Sam anyway and she draped her arms over her girlfriend’s shoulders again.

“For some reason. So, what did you think?”

Val shrugged, her hands sliding up to settle around Sam’s waist.

“About a new halfa? Probably sucks for him. Especially when he’s gotta come out as dead to his family. The Waynes aren’t exactly known for being stable,” she pointed out when Sam snickered.

Which was a fair point.

“They’re actually worse when there’s more of them,” she mused, glancing back towards the bed where she’d left her phone, “and the oldest’s a cop now.”

This time it was Val’s turn to snicker.

“Yeah, I heard. Tuck already sent me the blow by blow of you eviscerating the poor guy.”

Sam preened. Deservedly.

“Hey, you know me, I’m not gonna play nice just cuz I’ve been dragged to some social function.”

The snicker turned to a chuckle as Val leaned in, rubbing their noses together.

“And you know me, baby girl, ACAB all the way, and I still think that should extend to the Justice League. Heard half of Batman Inc also showed up, did you let them have it too?”

“You know I did,” Sam purred, locking her ankles behind Val’s back and nipping playfully at her lower lip. Val laughed, her hands creeping slowly up the small of Sam’s back.

“That’s my little leopard. Tea’s done.” And then, totally unfairly, she reached back with one hand and pulled Sam’s ankles apart, slipping free with a laugh as Sam pouted. “Hey, you’d be more upset if I let it over steep.”

“I can make more tea,” Sam grumbled, finally slipping off the counter, but a rebellious smile made it onto her face anyway. Val toasted her with the french press.

“True that, darling, but I’m not wasting the good coffee beans. Daddy asked me four times if I was sure about taking the train but honestly, he’s a state away now, it’s not worth a flight.”

Setting her teabag aside, Sam squirted in some vanilla agave syrup and took a deep breath. Gotham was fine, but no hotels could match her home tea stash. Not even the Waynes could.

“Beautiful, strong, environmentally conscious, and a Daddy’s girl. How did I land you again?” She asked innocently as Val dropped creamer into her own mug.

“By being all of those but the last one,” Val countered easily, taking a mug and holding an arm out for Sam to tuck under. “Now c’mon, if I’m going to the next gala you need to tell me allllll about a certain cutie Cassandra Wayne,” she cooed, making for their couch.

Sam’s face flushed red and she made to duck away instantly, but those damn vigilante muscles made it so hard.

“Okay, veto, you’re not allowed to do that anymore! My mom is trying to hook me up with her!” Sam did not whine. She. Protested. With dignity. Totally no idea why Val snickered, holding her coffee up and away in her other arm.

“Yeah, that’s the point. How funny would it be if Danny and I both stole a Wayne from you?” She asked with a vicious grin.

Which… did make Sam pause. Because that would be really funny. And Cass would almost certainly be down for it; she wasn’t as loud or attention seeking as any of the boys, but Sam could recognize the wicked gleam in anyones’ eyes when they enjoyed the chaos.

Then she sighed.

“No, we have to be good for the next gala. Otherwise no one’s going to listen to what I actually have to say.”

Val hummed an agreement, guiding her to sit on the plush, well loved cushions. It was an old couch, and a hand-me-down from Sam’s work, but it was just too good to pass up. They could both lie comfortably side by side on the seat, if they snuggled just a little, and the back was wide and plush enough for two throws.

“Okay. The gala after that, then. It’ll make our slow burn long distance romance all the more compelling,” she added when Sam snorted, finally releasing Sam to sink comfortably into oblivion.

Sam swatted at her and put her tea down on the table.

“You’re dreadful. I love you. We’ll ask Cass, lemme just get my phone and I’ll hook you into the group chat with her, Steph, and Babs. They’re Wayne family friends,” she added at Val’s questioning noise, “I haven’t met Babs yet, but Steph is great. You’re gonna love her.”

“Only if we’re going for some three’s company action,” Val snickered as Sam jogged to the bedroom, flipping her girlfriend off as she went.

**

Jason was quiet as they left the Zone. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, especially after the day he’d had and the emotional whiplash.

Danny was doing his very best not to let it bother him. He remembered the early days of being a halfa, how much he’d second-guessed himself, how much every new change and discovery had rocked his world. And he’d been a teenager, all hormones and fire and energy.

He hadn’t even been dead a month before shit got weird.

Jason was twenty-two, and had already been dead for almost seven years. Danny’d like to think he’d found ways to cope, but seven years in himself he was pretty sure he still hadn’t.

Whatever Jason had dealt with in those six and a half years was being ripped up in front of him day by day.

If there was anything he wanted, anything he needed, Danny would be there for him in a heartbeat. Before he could even have to ask, if possible. Aaaand the only thing he couldn’t do that for was if Jason needed space.

Lady Gotham had been able to open them a portal directly into Jason’s apartment; Danny preferred to aim high enough to miss walls and buildings on the way back, but it was her city. She knew exactly where everything and anything was - the portal had been in the back of Jason’s front door.

Danny totally wasn’t jealous. He could come back out almost at the same place he’d gone in, if he was quick. And he could go intangible anyway.

It was still really cool to watch the city spirit do it, the way the realms opened easily and willingly at her touch. She’d given Jason a token, a coin that had to be at least six hundred years old that showed the city’s skyline. Apparently he could use it to get in touch with her, or get back to the Zone on his own if Danny couldn’t take him.

Danny was fine with that. For sure.

The Infinite Realms were dangerous, but the token should bring him straight to Lady Gotham, in an emergency. And then Danny could follow and find her, and find Jason. It was a super reasonable backup plan.

He still found himself hovering in the doorway, unsure if Jason wanted him to stay or go while the other man shrugged out of his coat, boots, and shoulder holster that Danny had totally missed this entire time. And then walked directly into the bathroom.

Danny hovered a little closer, entirely unknowing what exactly he’d do if Jason was crying. Or screaming. Or beating a hole in the wall away from prying eyes. Or, actually using the bathroom for its intended purpose, apparently.

Because Danny forgot Jason was still in mandatory human form at all times.

He couldn’t hear anything from inside the bathroom with the door shut anyway, not even movement or the sink running. But then again, Jason’s family knew Superman personally. That probably lead to some inside jokes and really specific precautions.

Danny hovered back to the door. Stared around at the incredibly clean, well organized display of video games and weaponry on the walls, the double shelf of books.

This, he was beginning to suspect, was a third, larger, more expensive apartment. The furniture and room layouts were about the same, but he was like 80% sure the apartment they’d played MarioKart in hadn’t had as much stuff.

This one had some dishes waiting by the sink though. Given how well organized everything else was, they stuck out.

…

Five minutes. Jason was still in the bathroom.

Danny hated waiting. If he was going to stick around, he could justify it by helping out. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

———————

Part two imminent! All my love to the tag list, you’ll be following the link on this one so you don’t get both separately

Part 2:

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[sjmgirlie]

“I see so much potential for Lucien and Elain”

Where?

There has not been a single scene in 2 novels and 1 novella since we found out they were mates that alludes to any potential at all?

They haven’t even had one conversation where Feyre isn’t there carrying it? He lives on the other side of Prythian? Can't stand to be around her? She wants to leave the room each time he's there? Specifically sits away from him? Like where is the potential other than some sort of imagery (which I'll get to)? It ain't there.

“I can’t imagine a single conversation happening between Elain and Azriel”

Really?

They had one the first day they met. Talking about flying.

Not to mention on Solstice they stayed up to talk to each other when everyone else went to bed.

How do we know they didn’t talk when they were in the garden together?

“Azriel just stifles Elain. She’s just a damsel in distress”

You sure?

He literally gave her the knife he had literally never let anyone touch in 500 years to protect herself? Cassian didn’t want Nesta finding the troves either? Are we trying to say that a man who wants to protect a women is suddenly.. unattractive? Like idk about you, but I would love for a bat boy to save me lol. Or tell me not to do something for my safety. But okay.

“It’s just lust”

Let’s not even go there because a male willing to participate in a blood duel and renouncing his own religion is not just trying to have sex

“Lucien is the son of Helion and Elain needs sun!”

Ya?

Well Lucien has never had sun imagery. It’s fire from his Autumn Court heritage and in Hybern he released himself with SPELLS. Feyre was actually the person to cast out a bright light to break the wards, and we find out later that it’s a gift from the Dawn court. Lucien tells us this. Lucien has fire magic and is a spell cleaver, not the sun. ELAIN is the sun. Day court does not equal sun for Lucien. Sorry.

“Elain will never accept Azriel’s profession”

Oh?

Pretty sure she’s already accepted everyone in the Night Court. They all have jobs that are borderline sus. And considering the countless instances where we see Elain is actually very observant, I’m sure she knows what he does, yet she still leans into his touch. Not to mention Mr. fashion police Cassian also tells us that Elain is not a loyal dog. That she saw everything Nesta did and understood. Doesn't seem like she's not accepting to me.

"Azriel just wants a mate!!"

Seriously?

If the male wants a mate why would he bother spending time with a female he knows has one? Why wouldn't he be sailing around Prythian looking for her? Because she sure as shit isn't in the Night Court. And let's be honest, I don't think he will even be getting a mate if it's not Elain through some sort of different bond. Because there is no one in canon right now that could be his mate, and we only have 2 more novels and 1 novella left. And his book is next. Apparently we can all agree on that, but can't accept Elain is also getting the next book, aka their book together. And no, Gwyn is not his mate, because it would have already snapped into place. We had an 800 page book where they were in the vicinity of each other through all the training monologues (so maybe more 400 pages) and it didn't happen? Rhys knew before they left under the mountain. Literally happened at the end of the book. Cassian knew the first day he met Nesta. Lucien knew the second Elain took her first breath lol... it's not happening.

"Elain should be with Lucien and they would be High Lord and Lady of Day Court!!"

Ew?

You want to kill off Helion??? I want the novella to be about him and the Lady of Autumn tbh (even though it's likely Mor). Like? No, I need some sort of scene with Helion in each remaining book. I need more of him, biblically and spiritually. Also, have we forgotten “You can not resent my decision to lead a small quiet life..” ??? Elain said this in ACOSF to Nesta, like, do you think this girl wants to be High Lady all of a sudden? No. She doesn't.

"Elain needs to give Lucien a chance!!"

Why?

I swear everyone who says this has never been in that "Oh, well he's just such a nice guy!! Give him a chance" type of situation. Like why should I? WHY SHOULD SHE? He literally was an accomplice in her human life being stripped away from her. Should they end up being friends? Yes. Together romantically? No. If she doesn't want to give him a chance, which she clearly doesn't, then she doesn't need to. Stop diminishing choice in character arcs. Her whole arc, with Azriel and Lucien, is centred around choice in the first place.

"Azriel's shadows danced for Gwyn, so they are endgame"

Huh?

Don't get me wrong, the shadows are a part of Azriel, but I don't think they literally determine his life for him. Actually, I know this 100%. His shadows are under his command. Also, they danced for her breath, not Gwyn. Which is weird. Not to mention his shadows alert him in times of trouble and to gain information. Is it not weird they didn't alert him that she was there? Like that's not being wing-shadowy, that's screaming something sus is going on. (And no, I'm not anti-gwyn or even saying she's evil. Is she a lightsinger? Probably. The evidence is there. Does it mean she's bad? No.)

"Azriel's shadows hide from Elain, so they can't be together"

Lol?

Again, are Azriel's shadows the ones that command him? Or does he command them? And his shadows have disappeared for half of the IC. They disappear when there is no threat. They disappear when he doesn't want them there. Pretty sure Azriel's whole character doesn't just revolve around shadows. Sure, they are a huge part of his identity so far, but do we truly think that he wants to be reduced to them? Doubt it. He's probably had a very hard time coming to terms with the fact people have always looked at him differently because of it. I wouldn't be surprised if him becoming a Shadowsinger (since they came to him later in life in the dungeon) was a result of unfathomable trauma. Azriel does not only equal shadows only. We just don't know him yet.

"The BC sunk Eriel"

Truly?

You mean the bonus chapter where Azriel was about to get on his knees for a taste? The bonus chapter where Elain was giving him offer and permission? The bonus chapter where Rhys was the reason they DIDN'T actually kiss? The bonus chapter where Rhys became their obstacle and lifted the stakes not only on a personal level (with Elain thinking she was rejected, with Az and Rhys having a wedge between them) and politically (the potential downfall with god knows how many courts since Lucien is a drifter and the human lands)? Like we need the stakes!!!! This is what makes it worthwhile to read?? Forbidden romance? That should be enough intrigue. Plus anyone who genuinely thinks an author would write a male character willing to drop to his knees for a female (we've seen this with both Rhys and Cassian btw) only to have him move on in the next book is just idk. It's not possible. It would be so UNROMANTIC for them not to end up together. Like I would never forget Azriel wanted Elain's coochie so bad only to end up with someone else??? Ya, that's not romantic.

"Elain and Tamlin would be perfect mates"

Throws Up

So Elain is going to go to the only court where there is no gardening because the HL magic keeps everything in eternal bloom, only to shack up with her sister's ex who that same sister almost married and her mates ex best friend? Make it make sense. You're truly showing your hatred for stereotypical feminine qualities my friend. Tamlin needs some time to lick his wombs and maybe learn how to cook. He needs to stop isolating himself. And again, Elain is not his mate. Also, let's just add Elain is not ever leaving the Night Court. The series is about the Archeron sisters, and her sister is the literal High Lady of NC, not to mention her other sister is mated to the Illyrian General. Like be for real right now.

The End. 🌹🗡❤️🦇

[acourtofthought]

@starsreminisce posted these comments on their blog:

And the last paragraph really stood out to me.

Something I've seen said by a certain side of the fandom is that a bonus chapter should not change the trajectory of what is in the actual book. I disagree with that because I look at the bonus chapters as a sneak peek of what's to come in future books (with this particular bonus following the pattern talked about in a post yesterday, with the resolution to the small story pointing us in the direction of Gwynriel), things that Sarah will at a later point expound on within the actual series even if they weren't initially clear to us without having read the bonus.

But say that's the truth, say the bonus chapters are only in line with that which we already know (which still works for Gwynriel because though the bonus hinted at Gwyn having a curiosity towards Az and him possibly having a bond with her, we do see bits of that in the actual book as well, there are scenes with her staring in his direction and scenes where he's staring in hers, where he shows admiration for her, where she's teasing him, where Nesta calls Az her new ribbon).

One of the big arguments is that it's extremely clear that Elain has no interest in Lucien, that it's been the case for multiple books. It's said Elain does not owe Lucien an explanation, that she does not owe him her time or attention.

So why not write an Elain bonus chapter in SF where she and Lucien have a conversation discussing how they don't want to explore their bond? According to E/riels there's no need for it in the first place since she's made herself clear but they have also claimed that she won't break the bond until we have her POV. Then wouldn't a bonus in Elain's POV before her book be the perfect place for something that's so obvious so that when she starts her own book "with Az", there's nothing standing in their way and the focus can be on their romance and the plot and not the emotional toll that her severing her bond with Lucien would take? If the Elucien bond is as much of a non issue as some claim it be be, then why not deal with it in an Elain Bonus Chapter? When her book starts, Sarah could even recap the events of the bonus for those who had missed it.

Elain thought back to that conversation she and Lucien shared shortly after Solstice. Where after Azriel's rejection, which had cut her deeply, she realized there was no place in her heart for anyone but Az even if she wasn't sure he still wanted her.

That would have actually be a perfect way for SJM to move us past the Elucien bond with very little in the way of feeling devastated on Lucien's behalf, where his heart is not being broken in real time within her romantic arc.

But the author didn't do that. She gave Az and FEYRE a POV. Feyre who already had 3 books and a novella and Elain with a total of 0.

We know Az doesn't think Lucien is good enough for Elain but we don't know if Elain agrees with that.

We know Az questioned the Cauldron because of his brothers and her sisters, that he hadn't thought of being with Elain beyond his sexual fantasies but we don't know where Elain stands on the whole "just wants one taste / why wasn't Az made my mate" debate.

We know Az thought of Elain as too trusting and hopeful but we've no clue whether Elain was really thinking anything of the sort.

We've got Feyre thinking back on how she made sure to keep her mouth shut on Elain not wearing Lucien's gloves, how had she put them on she would have never been pierced in the first place but we still don't know whether Elain's actions with the gloves actually line up with her thoughts.

If Sarah wanted to continue on with what is apparently so evident in the four books of buildup for E/riel there was nothing preventing her from finally giving us Elain's POV in SF and having her tell Lucien that there's no reason for him to hold out hope any longer.

The more likely explanation for why Elain wasn't given a bonus is because everything that E/riels and Az claim that is so very obvious regarding Elain's character might actually not be as obvious as they think.

If she's so happy in the NC, then why hide her thoughts?

If she's so in love with Az, that it's clear as day, then why hide her thoughts?

If she's so disinterested in Lucien, then why hide her thoughts?

If we're supposed to believe that Elain's choice is Az, that there is no competition and that it should not be a mystery to anyone at this point, then why has she been so reticent to put us into Elain's head?

[circus4apsycho8]

hear me out.

movie!cole x reader

reader has always kinda liked him and then one day gets stuck while escaping from a garmadon attack, cole (as the earth ninja) comes to help her but accidentally has his identify revealed by garmadon’s workers(??)

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 :) 𝚒 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢! 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

unmasked. | movie!cole x reader

Sunshine spills over your desk as you gaze out of the window, eyes scanning the horizon splayed beyond the smudged glass as your mind ventures through all of the activities you’d be doing if you weren’t in school at the moment. 

The room is quiet, save for the muffled music emanating from someone’s headphones as the class finishes the daily journaling prompt. Your eyes quickly glance down towards your finished entry, no other words coming to mind. Instead of adding more, you elect to add a few doodles to the side of your paper. 

About a minute passes before the teacher stands, a stack of papers in her hands. “Alright, everyone! Journaling time’s over. Today, we’re going to be preparing for our first Socratic Seminar. So, please partner up! No one is allowed to work alone!” 

You sigh softly upon hearing this, watching as your classmates partner with each other. Stars, you hate this aspect of school. You probably won’t even need a partner for this! 

The chatter kicks up a notch as people start looking for partners before clearing into their respective seats. You remain at your desk, deciding just to take whoever is leftover.  

A few moments later, you spot another student apparently hating this as much as you are. Sitting diagonally from you and now facing your direction is none other than Cole Brookstone himself. His combination of long, black hair pulled into an adorably messy bun along with his spearmint-tinted eyes makes your heart skip a beat - doubly so when you realize he’s looking at you, headphones dropped around his neck. The fact that he’s wearing a muscle tank that sets those gorgeous-toned arms on display does not help. 

It’s then that you’re snapped out of your trance, heart racing even more when he nods toward you, one of his eyebrows raised. 

You get the message, briefly nodding at him with a soft smile. 

While he grabs his supplies, you take a moment to put away your journal, now replaced by your school laptop. You subtly take a deep breath, part of you in disbelief that you’re going to be partnering with your crush of several months for this assignment. 

Cole settles in beside you, dropping his belongings on the desk before relaxing into the chair.  

After he does, the teacher glances around before nodding. “Great. Okay, your assignment is to read the next three chapters of our current novella, then prepare for next week’s Socratic Seminar using quotes and notes from the chapters. I’m handing out your seminar preparation packets now - remember to read the overview! I’ll be going more in depth about the actual seminar the day of. These are going to be due on Wednesday.” 

“I hate Socratic Seminars,” Cole mutters, pausing the music on his headphones. 

“Me too,” you agree as the teacher hands you two packets, one of which you hand to Cole. You try to ignore the tingling the ignites as your fingers brush together. 

“At least it’s only three chapters. With how short they are, it won’t take long to read. I can probably finish them both up tonight.” 

“Yeah, same. I’ll make a Google Doc so we can share notes as we read,” you respond, opening your school laptop. “Does that work?” 

Cole nods, doing the same. “At least it’s only three chapters. With how short they are, I can probably finish them all tonight.” 

“I will too, then,” you note, creating a new document before spinning your laptop around so that he can add his school email. 

“In that case, would you just want to meet up after school tomorrow so we can just knock the packet out before the weekend?”’ he suggests, sliding the computer back to you. 

The proposition catches you slightly off guard, although you can’t help but acknowledge that blooming elation in your chest. 

You nod. “Yeah, let’s do that.” 

“How does the cafe right next to the school sound?” 

“That works,” you say. “I’ll meet you there, then?” 

… 

“It’s a date!” your friend shrieks over the phone. 

You roll your eyes, tossing the novella atop your nightstand. “It is not a date! I’ve told you like eight times already!” 

“Someone’s in denial! Okay, okay, fine. How about we go over the facts, hm?” 

“Oh, come on! What facts? I think you’re just making a big deal out of nothing,” you add, finishing up your nightly routine. 

“Nothing? Yeah, right. So, tell me - if it really is nothing, then why aren’t the two of you just working on it remotely via the Google Doc? That’s what everyone else is doing! You don’t have to meet in person to get this done!” 

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you interject with a shake of your head. “We just want to get it done before the weekend starts.” 

“You’re unbelievable,” mutters your friend. “But that’s fine, because you don’t have to believe it. This could be your chance!” 

You contemplate what your friend is saying for a moment before deciding to play the dumb card again. “Chance for what? It’s just homework. It’s not that deep.” 

“You’re always making goo-goo eyes at him, and I’ve noticed him looking at you too, you know. I think you guys have some good chemistry.” 

“I don’t know,” you mumble, nervousness creeping throughout your chest as you shift the grip on your phone slightly. “I…I guess I’ll just see how it goes, then.” 

“There, there we go!” cheers the voice on the other end. “Just tell me how it goes, okay?!” 

“Fine, I will!” 

“Good. Now finish reading that stupid book so you’ll be prepared. Text me, okay?” 

“I will. Thanks.” 

With a few more closing words, the two of you hang up for the night before you get started on reading the required chapters. 

… 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous before. 

With each passing class, the ball of nerves embedded within your belly grows, eventually manifesting into a racing heart and sweaty palms. You swallow as the last bell of the day rings, grabbing your bag before heading out. 

As you exit the school, you find that your friend has texted you: 

good luck!! :)  

After shooting a quick reply, you make your way through the crowded sidewalk for few minutes. Once you get past the school, you will yourself to take a moment to simply breathe. 

As you inhale deeply, you tilt your head slightly up to the sun, its warm rays enveloping your skin. The air is crisp and fresh, unlike the stale atmosphere lacing your school. Finally, you’re able to calm down a bit as you approach the café, quick to enter. 

The first sound to greet you is the soft, café playlist sounding from the speakers in the ceiling, the song slightly masked by the quiet chatter of patrons. From behind the counter emanates the tearing noise of milk being steamed as baristas busy themselves with their work. 

You glance around, finding that the café isn’t as busy as you’d thought it would be. Seated in one of the booths is Cole, eyes focused on a book situated on the table. It seems different than the assigned book. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a graphic tee depicting a band that you haven’t heard of. 

You approach him, setting your backpack on the opposite side of the side. “Hey.” 

Cole glances up at you as you do so, a dimpled smile forming on his lips. “Hey.” 

“Just give me a minute to order,” you say, returning his grin as you turn towards the counter. Thankfully, there’s no line, so you’re able to place your order and pay quickly. 

Once you have your order, you sit down across from Cole before pulling your needed supplies out. 

“So...” Cole starts, pushing his current read aside and sliding his note packet out. “Quanish the Elder. Quite the character, don’t you think?” 

You chuckle lightly, sipping on your drink as you nod in agreement. “Definitely. But his stories have some merit. After all, rumor has it that he can see the future.” 

Cole shrugs. “My...grandfather always told me that he was an idiot. I guess he had his moments, though.” 

You nod, plucking the seminar prep sheet up in order to read over the questions. “Okay...so, we have to figure out what stance we’re going to take on the message he was trying to embed, right?” 

“Yeah, sounds about right. So...what do you think he was trying to say?” 

“That people are unpredictable. And sometimes stupid,” you summarize, surprising yourself at how simple the theme is. “And that’s unavoidable no matter where you go.” 

“Ironic, coming from him,” Cole mumbles, shrugging. “Yeah, that’s what I gathered too.” 

“Cool, so we I guess we can go ahead and look for quotes and examples that back our theory,” you mumble, pulling your book out. 

Cole nods in agreement as he sips his drink again. “Sounds good.” 

With that, the two of you scour the chapters for quotes. During your reading, you can’t help but sneak a few glances over at Cole. 

He’s so cute when he reads, you think, smiling softly as your eyes flick back towards the page. Your brain happily reimagines the memory of his pretty eyes scanning over the page, the way his fingers would flip the page, the callouses present on his knuckles...and not to mention his muscles. 

It takes you a minute to process that, despite reading almost an entire page, you hadn’t digested any of the words. You sigh softly, starting over again. Okay, focus! 

Thankfully, you’re able to redirect your attention to the task at hand as opposed to the handsome man sitting right across from you. Soon enough, you’re both able to finish filling out your homework for the weekend. 

“I’m so glad that’s done,” you note, shoving the papers back where they belong. “I was dreading that.” 

“Yeah, I’m relieved that we finished before the weekend,” he responds, also putting his belongings away. “Thanks, by the way. For meeting me here.” 

“Yeah, I um...I enjoyed it,” you admit softly, not sure of what else to say. An idea occurs to you when you notice his other book slipped against the wall. “Oh, what are you reading now, by the way?” 

To your delight, Cole starts telling you about the book he’s reading. And from there, the two of you end up discussing other books for a little while. 

You didn’t think he would be so well-versed in Ninjago’s literature, but he proved you wrong. Proof that you should never judge a book by its cover – especially if that cover sports muscles, graphic band t-shirts and a manbun.  

Sure enough, the two of you were there for far longer than you’d anticipated – not that you minded, though. He was fun to talk to. 

You’re about to ask him something else when his phone starts ringing. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, fumbling for his device as he shoots an apologetic glance towards you. “I need to get this.” 

You dismiss his worries with a wave of your hand. “Not a problem. I should stretch my legs for a second anyway.” 

So, you stand, deciding to browse some of the merchandise situated at the other side of the café while you wait for him to finish. 

Once he does, you make your way back over, noticing that he’s packing all of his belongings up. 

“Hey, sorry. I have to go,” he admits, snatching his book. “But...maybe we could do this again sometime? Maybe same day and time next week?” 

“I’d like that,” you reply, smiling softly as you grab your stuff, making sure all of the trash has been cleaned up. 

“Dope,” he mumbles quietly, nervously grinning. “So, I’ll see you then?” 

“You sure will,” you say, the two of you exiting the café together. 

With that, you both bid each other goodbye before heading home for the evening. When you get home, you immediately text your friend to concede defeat: 

I think you were right. We’re meeting up again next week. 

… 

The weekend, as per usual, passes in a haze much to your dismay. You hadn’t slept well, either, which normally wouldn’t be a huge issue except for one, little detail: 

You fell asleep before setting your alarm on Sunday night. 

It didn’t take you long to realize you weren’t going to make it, even going as far as not to rush your morning routine. Now, you’re walking on the sidewalk towards the school, checking the time on your phone. Yeah, there’s no way you’re going to arrive in time. Might as well grab a cup of coffee since you can’t be late twice, right? 

Decision made, you slow your pace and decide to simply enjoy the fresh air while you still can. You weren’t really looking forward to first period anyway, so why not live a little? 

The atmosphere of Ninjago City seems to be extra busy today, with citizens much like yourself bustling about. You arrive at the café in a few minutes, immediately joining the line. 

After you order, you wait for the baristas to make your drink, idly watching one of the televisions hitched up in the corner of the store. It’s stationed to one of the local news channels, the hosts of which are currently discussing local news. 

You lose interest after a few moments, electing to scroll through your phone again. 

A few seconds later, the barista calls out your name and hands you your drink. After thanking her, you take a sip and go to have a seat at one of the tables. 

About ten minutes pass as you scroll through your phone while enjoying your beverage. At some point, though, you start hearing more and more concerned murmuring among the crowd. 

You lift your head up, noticing quite a few people leaving the store. Narrowing your eyes, you shift your stare towards the TV again. 

“This just in – our scouts have spotted Garmadon and his forces approaching Ninjago City again! You know the drill – take cover wherever you can until the Secret Ninja Force can repel his assault!” 

Oh, fucking dandy. Another Garmadon attack. You stand with a groan, watching as the camera footage shifts to a shot of Garmadon’s giant shark mech breaching the coast. Again. Fantastic, that’s not too far from where you’re at, which means you probably won’t be able to make it back home in time. That means your best shot is figuring out where the nearest public shelter is. 

You shift your attention towards the street, noticing that people are already starting to panic. 

After making your way out of the shop, you realize that your time is shorter than you initially thought. You can already feel the vibrations of the mech’s footsteps within the ground, and people are starting to panic even more. 

You feel your heartbeat increase as someone yells out from the street behind you. Upon turning, you feel the beginnings of an adrenaline rush as an all-too-familiar group of Garmadon goons flood the streets. 

As your breathing speeds up, you make a split-second decision to cut through an alley between two buildings – a route that you know will lead you to a back road that fewer people know about. You jog towards it, cautiously making your way through. 

Thankfully, it’s clear, leading you to the road. You continue following it, making sure to keep your head on a swivel. 

It’s eerily quiet, save for the small vibrations. In the distance, you can hear people yelling. You pass a few people on the way, but not too many. 

You manage to make it within a few minutes of home – from here, it’s just a walk past a skyscraper, then a few turns and you’re there. 

Your gaze shifts up to the skyscraper you need to walk by, and for some reason, a horrid feeling courses through your stomach. You stop in your tracks, hairs standing on end as you glance around. 

Your home...it’s not far, and yet... 

Your unease pays off, because seconds later, a deafening shattering noise sends you scrambling for cover. Something crashes through the skyscraper you would have been standing in front of had you not stopped when you did. You run back towards a nearby alley, trying to get away from the action. 

As you turn, however, you find that a few of Garmadon’s soldiers are blocking your path, along with a few smaller mechs controlled by some of the higher-level goons. 

You turn back around, spotting the mech you saw on TV emerge from the debris of the skyscraper, your eyes widen as you notice the remains of the building swaying unsteadily for a moment before toppling over – right in your direction. 

A scream becomes stuck in your throat as you try to run from the falling debris, but before you can, a pair of hands roughly pushes you backwards. You yell out, falling onto the pavement. 

The breath is knocked out of your lungs, leaving you gasping. Your mind is spinning, part of you trying to get your ass in gear while the other part of you is trying to suck a breath in. With both warring thoughts in your mind, combined with the sight of the falling debris... 

...you freeze. 

Breath hitched in your lungs, you can only watch as the debris tumbles down towards you. 

You close your eyes, waiting for an impact as tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

But...it doesn’t come. 

After slowly opening your eyes, you realize that something else is towering over you. Your breath finally returns, allowing you to sit up. 

Above you is another mech – this one familiar. You recognize it as one of the mechs used by the Secret Ninja Force. Relief courses through you as the mech hovers over you, blocking the debris with its fists. It’s the Black Ninja’s mech. 

Three other mechs appear – the Red Ninja leaps into action by driving back Garmadon’s mech using its momentum and surprise. Second to appear is the Green Ninja’s mechanical dragon, aiding Red in his assault against Garmadon. Finally, the Gray Ninja’s water strider leaps out of a nearby river, one of its legs sweeping out against the row of smaller mechs, effectively sending them flying backwards. 

With that, she leaps back in the water, the mech swimming away. Green and Red manage to drive Garmadon’s mech out of sight, while Black’s mech seemingly spots the various enemies around you. 

You decide it’s best to get away from the giant robot that’s about to start fighting, so you scramble out of its way, eyes scanning the area for cover. To your dismay, more of Garmadon’s troops have arrived, and have surrounded you. 

“Fuck,” you curse, wondering what the best course of action could be. There’s no cover for you to take, so your best hope of not getting squished like a bug is to hope that Black sees you. 

“General, do it now!” an enemy shouts. You notice one of them holding some strange device – a gun, maybe? A big one, if it is. They aim it towards Black’s mech, and in a matter of seconds, it launches a blue ball of energy towards the mech. You gasp as blue waves pulse across its structure before sending it crashing to the ground. 

Was that an electromagnetic pulse?! you wonder, eyes widening as the mech fails to get up. 

Then, a pair of arms jerks you backwards by the shoulder, another arm coming in front of you. You struggle, screaming out as something sharp is pressed against your neck. 

“Easy, beautiful,” a scratchy voice taunts. “No use struggling unless you want your throat slit.” 

"Let me go!” you demand as the grip on you grows tighter. Fingers dig into your skin, the blade now poking into your neck. 

“That’s up to our little ninja friend,” he responds. You watch as a figure emerges from the cockpit, heart racing. 

“I’d like to see what he’s capable of without his big robot,” another soldier taunts as Black slowly makes his way towards you. You try not to let your fear show, but you can tell it’s not working. His eyes glance at you, studying you for a moment. 

“Let her go,” he states calmly, raising his hands. 

“Nope,” replies the man holding you. “We want something. If we strike a deal, maybe then we can think about releasing her.” 

“Okay,” Black assures, stepping forward slowly. “Let’s talk.” 

“That’s more like it. Okay, here’s what we want. We want you,” he states simply. 

“You want to capture me?” Black clarifies. 

“Yes. You’re going to be good leverage to use against Green. Not to mention that when Garmadon finds out that we captured a ninja, we’ll get a promotion for sure!” 

“What do you mean by leverage?” asks Black. You get the feeling that whoever’s holding you hostage isn’t the brightest, and that Black is just scrounging for time however he can. He must have some kind of plan. 

“Isn’t it obvious? To get your damned team to back down and surrender control to Garmadon!” 

Black doesn’t answer for a moment, seemingly going over his options. You notice that his eyes keep flicking towards a direction behind you ever so often, but the enemy doesn’t seem to realize this. He must be waiting for backup. 

“So, what’ll it be?” 

“I’ll come willingly. Just...let her go.” 

“Come over here.” 

Another goon steps forward, holding out a pair of handcuffs. You bite your lip as Black takes a few steps forward, heart pounding. 

Then, you hear something: the guy behind you grunts, dropping his knife arm. A split second is all it takes for you to realize that this is your chance. You immediately run forward, making your way behind Black before turning around to face your attacker. 

You see a bunch of men...convulsing, maybe? But not all of them – a portion of them are watching their fallen allies in shock. You’re stuck wondering what happened until a blue aircraft zips overhead. 

“Thanks, Blue,” Black mutters before turning to you. “Hey, you need to go.” 

You don’t reply, watching as he goes to defend against a few goons who have recovered enough to rush him. 

For some reason, you’re rooted in place. You know you’re free, and that you can run, but...something prompts you to stay. 

Black seems to be holding his own despite the fact that he’s outnumbered. However, the situation changes when someone manages to trip him up, another goon taking advantage of the opening by tackling Black. 

They’re quick to pin his limbs down, with another man circling the restrained ninja with a dark chuckle. “You were a fool to think you could take us on all by yourself!” 

Black doesn’t reply – just keeps his cool. 

“How about we take a look at who we’re really dealing with, hm?” the villain taunts. “Take his mask off!” 

Oh, stars. You have to do something! 

You glance around, realizing that this could be your only opportunity since they’re preoccupied with Black’s true identity. Thankfully, the debris around you provides plenty of impromptu weapons – one of which is a chunk of concrete that seems heavy enough to do some damage, but light enough for you to throw. Perfect. 

You grab it, hoisting it up before aiming it at one of the men holding Black’s arms down. With a grunt, you throw it as hard as you can. 

The concrete sails through the area before smacking the intended man in the shoulder, effectively causing him to let go of Black’s arm. It's not much, but it’s enough for Black to strike the man holding his other arm. 

“You fucking bitch!” the injured man yells, gripping his injured shoulder. “Get her!” 

Thankfully, though, Black manages to take the rest of the men out. You sigh in relief, realizing that you’re starting to crash from that lovely adrenaline rush. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, shifting your gaze to Black. 

And you pause, eyes widening as you remember that he’s unmasked. 

But...you know this face. 

“Cole?” you wonder. “You’re the...?” 

“Um...yeah. Yeah, I am,” he mumbles, smiling smally as he bends over to pick his mask up. “Guess my cover’s blown, huh?” 

You’re not really sure what to say, so you avert your gaze as he pulls the article over his head. With your thoughts racing, you have a hard time making sense of all that’s happened. 

Cole...so it’s been him all along. And his other friends...the numbers and personalities certainly match up. They must make up the rest of the Secret Ninja Force. 

He studies you for a moment, walking up to you slowly. “You’re not hurt, are you?” 

“N-No, I’m fine,” you reply. “Um...for what it’s worth, I won’t tell anyone.” 

“I’m sorry about all this,” he says, pausing. “You should find shelter. I know that the public ones are probably locked by now, but there might something else nearby.” 

“My home isn’t far. I’ll just head there,” you note. 

“I’ll come with you. The main streets are crawling with Garmadon’s army, and my mech isn’t much use now anyway,” he replies. “Lead the way.” 

“Thank you,” you mumble, starting to walk towards your home. 

With that, the two of you quietly make your way through the city, most of the goons having made their way to other points of the city by now. This part of the city has gone eerily quiet, leaving you and Cole to trek through the streets in a strange silence. 

“Are you doing okay?” Cole wonders. “I’m sorry that he...” 

“It’s not your fault,” you assure, smiling sadly. “And...I’m just a little shaken, I think, but I'll survive.” 

“...And you’re taking the news of my identity better than I thought, too,” he admits. 

“I mean...I can’t really complain, can I? You saved me. Yeah, it’s...kind of weird to think that you’re actually a ninja, but...it’s not as surprising as I initially thought. Maybe because I might have hit my head. Or because I’m in shock, or...something. I don’t know.” 

He nods in agreement. “Yeah, and I guess I owe you thanks too.” 

“Why?” 

“For stepping in when you did,” he adds. “I don’t think I would have been able to escape them if you hadn’t given me an opening.” 

You smirk, turning to glance at him. “Even ninjas need saving sometimes too, huh?” 

“Unfortunately, yes.” 

That makes you giggle as the two of you finally approach your home, with you turning towards Cole. 

“Thank you again,” you mumble, smiling at him. 

“Not a problem,” Cole answers. “Are we still on for next week, by the way?” 

“We sure are,” you add, stepping closer to him.  

You can feel him freeze slightly, especially when your hands come up to lift his mask slightly. A wave of confidence slips over you as you press a soft kiss to his cheek, stepping away after you pull it back down. 

“Thank you again, Cole.”

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚒 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍! 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚒 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢. 𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗; 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘!

[juniperusashei]

The Crying of the Wind: Ireland by Ithell Colquhoun - 3/5

EDIT: I have scanned and uploaded a copy here: https://archive.org/details/crying-of-the-wind

I had to go on a bit of a quest to find this book; it isn’t available online anywhere to my knowledge (not even my dubious usual sites!) and physical copies go for upwards of a hundred dollars, but luckily I was able to get a card from my university’s library that allowed me to get another card to check it out from a different university’s library. So a whole lot of hype for a travelogue.

I’ve been on a bit of an Ithell Colquhoun kick lately, to the point that I can actually spell her name without verifying. She is most famous for her visual art, which straddles the line between surrealism and abstraction, and much of her literary work such as her novella The Goose of Hermogenes is rooted in the occult tradition to the point that the rest of the surrealist movement apparently found her annoying and kicked her out. I was curious what take such a mythic individual would have on a relatively mundane genre as the travelogue, and I did find The Crying of the Wind an interesting if a bit jarring read. It is jarring in that most of the book is a typical travelogue, recounting conversations with locals and visits to typical tourist sites such as Glendalough, interspersed with asides about the occult or the fairy realm. Fair, because Ireland as a nation has always embodied contradictions, most notably that between their Pagan past and the Catholic Church (syncretisms not unlike what Gloria Anzaldúa talks about in Mexico)! For example, Colquhoun goes into a detailed dive into the theories behind the fairyland before concluding they are “beings inhabiting a supersensual plane which interpenetrates the universe normally perceptible to human senses.” It feels tongue in cheek, but knowing her, it’s not.

Did I enjoy this occult tour of Ireland? I didn’t find it stunning the way my favorite travel writers such as Joan Didion and Vita Sackville-West can be, but it was certainly an interesting angle. Though well-intentioned, Colquhoun’s colonial British upbringing does show itself, which is perhaps expected for a book published in the 1950s, but there was a surprising amount of portraying the Irish as “noble savages” — in an odd way, this book felt quite orientalist at times. Nevertheless, I think I would enjoy travelling with Ithell, just because the attention she gives the local flora on every page reminds me of how much I geek out about plants whenever I travel.

[bonefall]

Are you going to keep Goosefeather's curse? If so are you going to change anything about it? From my memory the book was... depressing.

It will probably get rolled into Pinestar's Crusade, building it up into an SE rather than just a novella. There's actually a lot going on in that specific moment, and it makes sense to go over it all at once.

So to answer your question, yes, most of Goosefeather's Curse is staying. Most of the Crusade Generation have depressing stories to tell. If the Thistle Period is defined by the fact that Thistle Law metastasized and went terminal, and if the Campaign Era was when it was newly born, then the Crusade Era was when it was first conceived.

I've been thinking about Pinestar's Crusade idly and mentioned it a few times, but here's my fragments so far;

PINESTAR'S CRUSADE (Fuses Pinestar's Choice and Goosefeather's Curse)

We start in the Crusade Era; there is now more focus on 3 major characters, though it's still built around Pinestar as the POV

Pinestar, Goosefeather, and eventually Pinepaw's apprentice Speckletail.

Pinepaw is born into the start of the Crusades, a bloody period where the Clans are invading Chelford and brutalizing cats in the hopes of appeasing StarClan. He only begins to learn the full story of what happened in Darkstar's Commandment once he begins going to Gatherings as a warrior

The truth being that Oakstar came up with this idea because he couldn't take an L

But even as an apprentice, it becomes quickly apparent to him that what they're doing is evil. They were brutalizing kittypets who aren't trained to fight back.

During his first raid as an apprentice, he allows a ginger-and-white mother and her kittens to escape

This came back years later, when that queen, Crystal, forms BloodClan in response to the Crusades.

Pineheart watches Oakstar die barely a year later to the queen he saved, using early claw extenders to cut right through him. Even if he hadn't been on his last life, it would have ended him.

But, Crystal lets Pineheart go, recognizing the Clan cat who had saved her life.

Watching his dad die along with several friends, and countless more innocent Chelford, plus being released by Crystal, is a Formative Moment.

Doestar continues the Crusades in the name of revenge for Oakstar, but now that BloodClan exists and is ARMED, the easy raids become bloodbaths.

They slowly peter out, not with a bang but with a whimper. She never announces an official end, eventually she just stops organizing them. No one gets closure, especially not Pineheart.

But the 'peace' doesn't last. Just before Heatherstar takes power from Smallstar and begins the Campaign to take the Mothermouth Moorland, ThunderClan deals with the Great Hunger

Pineheart and Goosefeather become very good friends, part of a little buddy group that also included Tawnyspots and Pheasantfeather (who will become One-eye later)

Pineheart was given his first apprentice, a rowdy little one and the niece of Doestar, Specklepaw. He's tasked with helping her fill the pawsteps of greatness she's destined to walk in.

Just like canon, Goose predicts the Great Hunger... though, he is an adult this time around because of some timeline changes.

And, like canon, it fails. They couldn't stockpile enough food to last an entire year of famine, a scorching summer and a frozen winter, they end up losing a huge stock of their food as if it was destiny.

Goosefeather was forced into a role he hates, given horrible visions of the future, and argues ferociously with Pineheart; if they hadn't tried to stockpile, they wouldn't have lost all that food to begin with.

It is in this moment, he comes to realize that every time he's fought back and used his visions like a warning, it's backfired.

So, perhaps, they are instruction.

But, meanwhile, Pineheart can't loose his apprentice or his friends. While others were hunting desperately, he was keeping cats alive through scouting for grubs, foraying into other territories, and...

Every bite of kittypet food he took for himself was a morsel in someone else's mouth. But this... this he kept quiet.

It started a "bad habit" he could never break.

Having lost the previous deputy to starvation and on her deathbed, Doestar nominates Pineheart to the position. He was shocked and upset by this, but he was the obvious choice.

Son of Oakstar, Hero of the Hunger, the cat who had kept Specklepaw alive when all the other kits and apprentices starved.

But, Pinestar took the helm to extreme controversy.

Everything Pinestar's ever done that worked was nonviolent. He's never seen battle do anything but bring harm, and the thought of leading people into war... it makes him feel sick.

But the rest of the Clan can't see what he sees. They yearn for the glory days (even though they were not glorious at all), itch to die for a cause, and leave this old, disgusting subsistence survival behind them. ThunderClan wants blood and Pinestar just wants peace.

Taking back Sunningrocks is an example of this. To avoid losing Clanmates, he proposed to Hailstar that they would have a Joust, instead.

ThunderClan's strongest against RiverClan's strongest. Adderfang vs Mudfur.

It didn't go well.

The problem with those sorts of situations is you have to abide by the deal. RiverClan took Sunningrocks for 6 months. It was humiliating for ThunderClan.

Even the cats he'd saved from the famine were furious with him

The only things that DID seem to please the Clan was when he would throw them fully into battle. Such as Goosefeather's prophecy that WindClan's herbs needed to be destroyed...

Every time a situation like that happened, where Goosefeather would phrase things as a Holy Struggle, Pinestar was thrown right back to the Crusades

Terrified eyes, screeching, cats begging for mercy, his father dead at his paws and feeling horror and relief swirling

Sitting vigil for old friends killed in these horrible fights, like Moonflower, it made him feel like how he felt the day he buried Oakstar.

And the bile rose in his throat, remembering that Oakstar was not there at his Leadership Ceremony, damned to the Dark Forest.

A thought was born, here. What does StarClan truly want? What do they expect of him? If they will send the architect of the Crusades there...

What of a cat who stayed fed on human food and fed grubs to his Clanmates? Or a leader who never knows the right thing to do?

When Mumblefoot retired and Sunfall became deputy, the Clan seemed to love him more than Pinestar. He found himself just... sitting back, and allowing Sunfall to call the shots.

It was towards the end, when Leopardfoot proposed an Honor Siring. He was from a glorious legacy, she wanted kits... and on his end, he wanted the peace that raising kittens could bring.

The warmth of human dens was calling him, but perhaps the warmth of love for children could keep him home.

UNLIKE CANON; Nothing about Tigerkit was born evil.

There was no StarClan vision of Tigerstar; Goosefeather knew full well that Thistlestar was the Leader of Prophecy.

But Pinestar would never give Thistleclaw an apprentice in time. Nor would he ever give his own little son to a cat as vicious as him.

Goosefeather never hurt anyone... but Pinestar just needed a push.

Pinestar was already anxious, unhappy, clinging to the goodness that was his little kits. Even as two of them were lost to minor illnesses, shortly after receiving their names.

It wasn't a lie. It was just half of the truth.

"Pinestar... you have a choice to make. StarClan has given me a vision of blood and war, and Tigerkit will have a role to play in it."

He DID have a vision... of Thistlestar. Not Tigerkit. But that was enough for Pinestar, his fear and trauma took the helm from there.

He'd seen his friends, his apprentice, the kits who had been born and died in his rule, all of them turn into the monsters Clan Culture demanded

Nothing he did ever seemed to work, why would THIS moment be different?

How could he prevent Tigerkit from becoming like that too?! Was StarClan telling him to KILL his son??

Pinestar's never had a vision from StarClan. He doesn't have the aptitude like a Cleric... what he has is a nightmare, of Tigerkit growing so large he crushes the whole camp under his claws

After a week of agony, Pinestar unknowingly creates a prophecy of his own,

"Can only the death of a child break fate?"

Sensing he was close to victory, Goosefeather dipped his head, not denying his question.

And it's the last straw.

And that is the climax of Pinestar's Crusade. Broken from his experiences, every turn taken for peace causing him more pain, the idea that he might have to hurt his own son plaguing his mind, he makes the choice to leave.

It wasn't hard, he'd still had that old bad habit of taking bites of kittypet food, a couple friends on the other side. But what he doesn't know is that by leaving with his life... he prevents Sunstar from acquiring his own.

Sunstar had ONE single life, StarClan was not able to give him more with the previous leader still alive. For leaving his Clan, for unknowingly preventing the transfer of power, and for dismissing the Warrior Code, Pinestar is sent to the Dark Forest after his death.

He can choose to walk there, or spend time in the mortal plane as just a spirit, but StarClan offers him no place in the cosmos.

[badass-queer-couples-battle]

Gay wrongs tournament, round 2 of the losers bracket

Propaganda:

For John and Jack:

So, they both are literal murders. One of them is a little bit more insane than the other. Okay, the little bit part is not right, totally insane that is John, yes. But gonna love him though. He had been in rehab for alcohol, drugs, sex and murder. Don't kiss him, he might be wearing poisoning lipstick. They are canon mlm. They had been stuck in a two week time loop for five years, which was like leading a married life for them. They didn't actually marry, but they were partners, both in business and sexually. They worked together for an time agency. Then Jack's memories of two years were erased and he left. He went into  independent self deployment, doing scams using his knowledge of future events. After that he build an alien hunting institute in Cardiff, Wales. When John and Jack see eachother again after years, you don't know whether they will they kiss or fight. They do both. Did I tell you that along this story Jack became an inmortal who can't stay dead? No matter how or how often he dies or is killed, he keeps coming back to life. This is all very scraping on the surface, but oh boy, would it be at least a novella to describe them.

They worked together in the Time Agency where they did horrible things to the extent where Jack had two years of his memory stolen so that he couldn’t know what he’d done. They were also in a time loop together for five years where they canonically thought of each other as the wife (John was a good wife :3), and were basically married. Then they had a divorce arc and they both separately went rogue from the Agency to become conmen, although they still worked together/clashed on occasions, always still with that spark of passion. “Frenemies with benefits” Jack called them once, although John preferred “my lover, my rival, my nemesis and destiny. And bane of my bloody life.” Canon finds us where Jack has tried to reform and be a better person, but John is still chasing cons, and all he wants to do is bring Jack back to the stars with him, back to the crime and the glitter of the galaxies (it doesn’t work and he shoves Jack off a building but Jack got himself immortal so he’s fine <3) anyway I am very normal about them xoxo

In John's introduction to the series he shows up on a roof where some guy is mugging someone, grabs him by the throat and dangles him over the edge of the building while this guy begs for his life before dropping him just because he felt like it. When John and Jack interact for the first time in the show there's a super cool guitar riff, very evil western vibes, they walk up to each other, look deeply into each other's eyes, make out, then start throwing punches to Blur's Song 2. In one of the audio dramas we're told about various times where these two conned people, stole a bunch of money and gold and gems and stuff, then had sex with whoever it is they conned before (sometimes) killing them. When Jack devided he was done and left John to die John escaped and married the queen of England (Victoria) then locked Jack up somewhere to take his life force and live forever, destroying the timeline in the process. John has tried to kill all of Jack's friends at least twice to have him all to himself. He found Jack's long lost brother and when the brother turned out to be a terrible person with a vendetta against Jack John did everything he could to save Jack. Their relationship is canon but very one-sided most of the time

just this video

For the Doctor and the Master:

Immortal genderfluid war criminals <333

So we all know the Master has killed plenty of people, but, despite their reputation, the Doctor has killed a more than average number too. Sure they undid the whole destroying their own planet thing, but that's still something the Doctor did. Also there's apparently a novelization out there where, when they were children, the Doctor killed one of their childhood bullies but then made a deal with Death so that the Master had the memory of it and became Death's champion, which is pretty messed up and murder husbandish. There are plenty more war crimes on the Doctor's hands, and the Master has killed countless people in a variety of creative ways. Also, I'm having trouble finding the quote, but I swear the Master once said something to the lines of "trying to kill the Doctor is just my flirting" or something similar. But I do know Missy (also the Master but female at the time) described their relationship as "older than your civilization and infinitely more complex". They love each other, they're constantly trying to destroy each other, they are the only friends they each have who can even begin to understand everything they've been through; they've known each other since childhood and they've watched (and helped) civilizations rise and fall together. They may not be who you first think of for murder spouses but they really are a beautiful example.

[sumire-no-nikki]

Everything read in October and a special shout out to Earthlings by Sayaka Murata.

An absolute fever dream of a book. I'm familiar with Sayaka Murata having read Convenience Store Woman some years ago but she certainly turned the dial all the way up with Earthlings. I was so shaken by the end. It didn't help that I finished reading it at like 2 am because it was impossible to put down. I was actually so damn terrified. Strange in best way.

It's also apparently a book I bought on holiday in Italy!! I found an old train ticket and a receipt tucked in its pages. I can remember exactly where I bought it too. It's from the la Feltrinelli at the big Santa Maria Novella train station in Florence. How nostalgic!!

But god, what a book. I've got these feelings of nostalgia and fright mixing like some sort of an experimental swirly ice cream. This is a book I will definitely not forget about in more ways than one.

[jadefyre]

On Threats to Murderbot’s Sense of Safety, Sense of Self, and Sense of Belonging

or: How the People We Meet Change Us, And Why That’s Not a Bad Thing

An analysis of Murderbot’s emotional foils and its character arc across the first three novellas of The Murderbot Diaries. (This is part 1.)

Written for @murdermetamay and also available to read on AO3

---

In the chapters leading up to the DeltFall Debacle in chapter five of All Systems Red, Murderbot emphasizes several times how it has to act like a good little SecUnit or else it’ll be found out as ungoverned and scrapped for parts. It has spent 35,000 hours constantly refining how it operates, keeping close watch on its actions and the consequences of its actions, and being hypervigilant—all in the name of surviving for another day of watching Sanctuary Moon instead of committing mass murder. 

Whether or not it has been entirely successful at remaining undetected throughout those 35,000 hours is unknown to us as the audience. If there have been times where it realized it was almost caught, it doesn’t mention them, and if there were times when someone else noticed it was rogue, it didn’t know about them. So, to us, it’s been doing a pretty good job of hiding—but that certainty unravels very quickly as things start to go wrong for the PresAux survey team.

First, in that opening scene with the fauna in the crater, Murderbot takes it upon itself to ensure Volescu also gets out safely, despite MedSystem’s lack of useful instructions (aside from giving him a tranq). In doing so, Murderbot reveals its actual appearance to the whole team for the first time. Rather than the impersonal opaqued helmet they’ve all gotten used to, now they see its human face. This in itself is not anomalous. After all, calming victims, which it apparently sometimes has to do, is much easier when there’s a human face for the victim to look at rather than a soulless robot that doesn’t know what an emotion feels like. 

Given the corporate attitudes we see throughout the series, it’s reasonable to assume that If this were a corporate team or contract, the revelation that the SecUnit has a face might have been momentarily uncomfortable for them, but would ultimately have been glossed over/forgotten about so they could go back to pretending it’s just another part of the habitat. In fact, Murderbot says as much, and even expresses it out loud to Mensah while they’re hiding in the jungle from GrayCris: “It’s usually better if humans think of me as a robot.” 

While in the hopper, holding Bharadwaj, Murderbot says it tries to be “as much like an appliance as possible, [...] keeping my head down so I couldn’t see them staring at me.” 

The first time it does something it’s not supposed to in front of these humans is when it yells “No!” at Ratthi shortly after getting in the hopper, but it doesn’t dwell on that too much because it was covered up by the humans also yelling at the same time. 

Thus we begin to see the first cracks in Murderbot’s self-protective facade. But we also see how much it does seem to like these humans. It understands their interpersonal relationships, who’s friends with whom, who has a crush on whom, and that Dr. Gurathin is a loner but that the others seem to like him. 

Next, Murderbot begins to dig itself an even deeper hole by verbally answering when Mensah comes to check on it in its cubicle. It chastises itself for doing so rather than not answering and pretending to be in stasis, but it notes that this is due to its awkwardness rather than its paranoia about being discovered as a hacked unit. 

The next day, when Mensah invites it to stay in the crew area with them, it notes that it is out of practice controlling its facial expression because of the usual opaque faceplate and is probably making an expression “somewhere in the region of stunned horror, or maybe appalled horror.” 

When Murderbot removes itself to the security ready room, it says: “Now they knew their murderbot didn’t want to be around them any more than they wanted to be around it. I’d given a tiny piece of myself away. That can’t happen. I have too much to hide, and letting one piece go means the rest isn’t as protected.” 

In other words, now they know their murderbot isn’t just an emotionless robot, and actually has thoughts and feelings. Their belief otherwise has been a huge part of Murderbot’s cover up to this point, and now that part of its cover is gone. 

Despite that, Murderbot continues to be helpful. That’s its job, and it likes these clients. Enough that it gives its real opinions on things when asked, enough that it is proactive in making sure it’s able to go with them as they investigate the map weirdness, and proactive in reporting anomalies like the autopilot cutting out. 

But Murderbot’s sense of safety as a SecUnit—especially one without a functional governor module—is directly linked to how well it performs its job. The better it performs, the less likely it is to be investigated, and the less likely it is that the humans will discover that it even has a sense of privacy that can be violated in the first place. 

Enter chapter five. Murderbot makes it back alive from the DeltFall habitat. Its humans have saved it from the combat override module. And then Dr. Gurathin tells everyone that Murderbot has a hacked governor module, that it is rogue.

That sense of relative security it had about its continued existence shatters in an instant. But, wait. Its humans, aside from Gurathin, don’t seem to see this as a big deal. Murderbot even lets itself have an emotion—a sense of betrayal—about Volescu’s apparent agreement with Gurathin, before changing its mind when he proved it wrong immediately after by defending it.

It has so far not expressed any emotions about Gurathin one way or another in this scene. It’s reporting the situation, play by play, although it does say it likes Overse because she also steps up to defend it. 

Up to this point, Gurathin has been cautious. Speculative, yes, but he only knows so much, and despite his goals being misaligned with Murderbot’s at the moment, it doesn’t actively hold that against him—at least not in its logs—because it also understands the necessity of caution. 

Until Mensah asks Murderbot if it has a name, and it says, “No.” 

Because that’s when Gurathin says, “It calls itself ‘Murderbot.’” 

And Murderbot finally stands up for itself directly. It grates out, “That was private.” 

Murderbot’s relationship to its name could be a whole other essay, but it has demonstrated over and over again in the narrative that it does not want to be associated with murdering, and it especially does not want its humans to associate it with murdering. And now these clients, most of whom it likes, know what it calls itself. And they know it’s rogue. And it is terrified of what that will mean for its personal safety in the aftermath of this revelation, but mostly, it’s concerned because... how can they trust it now? 

Of course Murderbot doesn’t like Gurathin. In this moment, it might even hate him: He violated its privacy, threatened its autonomy, and threatened its existence as a sentient being all within a very short amount of time. He attempted to break what little trust PresAux might’ve had in it. It has every right to hate him.

Additionally, if a “good” human can do that, how much worse will it be once it’s been turned over to the company?

It says a lot about who Murderbot is as a person that it chooses not to harm Gurathin even though it could. It cares what the others think of it, and of Gurathin, but even without that excuse it wouldn’t harm him. Otherwise, why hack its governor module? Why go through all that trouble to continue existing as a rogue unit in the first place? Who would it even be, if it had hurt him to save itself? 

It doesn’t know, and it doesn’t ask. First it needs to get these clients out alive, and then it can deal with all the existential consequences that follow. To get them out alive, they need to trust it, at least a little. It’s a lovely detail that one of the first steps it takes toward reasserting that trust is proving that it has, in fact, been watching Sanctuary Moon this whole time. 

So they let it help them, and it does get them out alive. These strange but nice humans buy its contract, buy it. Gurathin may have threatened its autonomy, but it saved his life along with the rest of PresAux, and they repaid it in kind by taking it to safety. Or trying to take it to safety.

Because Murderbot doesn’t want the safety they offer, not yet. It doesn’t know what it wants, but it knows it doesn’t want to be told what it wants. Before it decides, it first has to figure out what to do about those existential consequences.