#Knife family

[toodrasticallydumb]

Strickler and Jim headcanon?

Again. *Might've* gone overboard...like a little. This one actually took me a hot minute because I couldn't really find that many that I had but hey that's when you take the time to ✨figure it out✨ ;}>

Reblog if you have any of your own to add!!! Always fun to hear more of these.

They’re sassy at the dinner table. Like, impossibly so. They’ll trade jabs and good-natured quips, have petty fights about whatever, even THE WEATHER isn’t off the table if they’re that desperate for something to keep the surrealness of them eating as a family far out of their minds. Barb gets so sick of it sometimes she calls for who can stay quiet the longest just so she can enjoy her damn dinner in peace for once.

They’ll have mini-cooking contests for any given meal they have with Barbara as the judge, they’ll each make their own part of the meal and not reveal which part they did and constantly question Barbara about what she likes most about the meal and they both obsess of her facial expression when she takes any one bite off the plate while Barb is sitting there, resting-b-face and all, just wanting to eat HER DAMN FOOD. At the end, she always says they were perfect together and she could never rate them separate while they both cross their arms like preschoolers and ask in unison “But, hypothetically speaking, which *would* be your favorite?” “My glass of water.” “You served yourself that.” “Or so I did. Welp, I’m going to watch TV, I’m stuffed.”

After the Eternal Night is freshly over, and Strickler returns with Barbara to her home, she concedes to him staying the day because well, sun + changeling troll that is now just troll = easy sweep into the urn jar. So while he’s staying for the day and Barbara is called in for another shift, he has the house to himself and goes up the stairs to find Jim’s bedroom door slightly open and he peers inside to see it in a bit of disarray from Jim’s previous attempt to get off the amulet going badly. It’s mostly picked up but it’s still in need of some tidying. So, Strickler, after some mulling over, goes into the room and carefully starts cleaning things up, dusting, etc. for Barbara but also…mostly, for Jim. He knows what it’s like to need to start a new life from one day to the next. And for the following weeks, when it pains Barbara to go into the room, he takes it upon himself to keep it neat, keeping the hope at the back of his mind that Jim will return soon and it’s best to keep his room ready for him.

Jim was having a really hard time adjusting to a proper troll diet but actually got an unprompted message from Strickler with rocks/minerals that would be good to help him get the hang of eating rocks and ease him into it properly, and, later on, in an awkward phone call Barbara had passed to Strickler, Jim thanked him and Strickler sorta admitted that he had a sensitive stomach too and that he’d actually been experimenting recipes that could combine both human and troll tastes. Jim sorta kinda assumed it was mostly for himself that Strickler was experimenting but actually, Strickler was really surprised with how much he kept going failure after failure just to give Jim something he could eat with Barbara that wouldn’t feel awkward.

Y’know that sweater Strickler wore to Greenland in the movie-that-might-exist??? Well, if it did happen, Strickler was totally just trying to give Jim something to poke fun at. Something to bring back old times of them quipping at each other, especially with how stressed Jim was at the time. He was severely disappointed when Jim limited himself to just one slightly-snide comment about it. It made him realize just how much he wanted to protect Jim from more of all of this that had already changed him so much.

He ALWAYS texts Jim his mother’s schedule for the day/week and if it changes so he can find the best time to call her for the day. He gives his own suggestions for good times after she’s finished eating but before she goes to sleep (most of the time he tells Jim to call when it’s Barbara’s turn to care for the children/feed them/change diapers, and he takes the responsibility for her while they chat).

One day, while they’re texting to strategize when is the best time to call her, Jim refers to Barbara as just “Mom”. Not “my mom” and Strickler spends a ‘morning jog’/morning flight overthinking the whole interaction so much he forgets to bring Barb a flower, she wonders why and says she misses it but it’s okay, there’ll be plenty of other days for more flowers, and that’s when Jim calls and she automatically puts it on speaker and Jim automatically says “Hey, guys!” instead of “Hey, Mom” and Strickler realizes he has a son now. He has a lover. He has a family.

Another day, after a friendly spar, (it can either be pre-wizards/rott or just whenever), Jim and Strickler are both exhausted with just a narrow tie being called instead of a victory for either of them. In the exhaustion and half-loopiness of the moment, Strickler actually says how proud he is of Jim's improvement not only in fighting with Daylight and making the amulet his own but being adaptable and quick-thinking, and analyzing weaknesses to exploit and turning the battle in his favor, and "Yeah, well, I have you and Nomura to thank for that last stuff," he chuckled, "even if your 'training' was borderline 'almost kill--'" And that's when Strickler, unconsciously, bumped his forehead into Jim's with a hand at the back of his black hair. "Oh..." Jim just kinda goes still until Strickler blinks, realizes what he did, and clears his throat, absentmindedly ruffling Jim's hair before the conversation gets pretty awkward. "Well. We should uh- We should find Mom, she'll get worried." "Right- Of course, that's best avoided." "...Um....Thanks though, that wasn't...super weird....it was chill, I wouldn't like, tell you not to do that again." "....I'll em...I'll keep it in mind."

[andraedevane]

Recipe for Disaster AU.

"Don't you see? I'm only trying to protect you"

Jim scoffed, grabbing his sword tightly, trying to stop the trembling of his hands and his lips. "You liar" he didn't look at Strickler when he said those words "You- you dare to say that while you are attacking me?"

"I wouldn't have to fight you if you-"

"If I what? If I let you talk? If I wanted to hear what you have to say?" his eyes filled with tears but he tried to hold them back "There would be nothing you could say to avoid this. No words could fix this"

"What do you mean?" Strickler seemed confused.

"I trusted you, Strickler. I thought- I thought you cared about me" he frowned, feeling a tear slide down his cheeks.

"I do" he stopped holding his knives "I do care about you, Young Atlas"

"Do you?" he closed his eyes "You say you care about me. You say you are trying to protect me. See what you're doing right now and tell me if this is protection. If this means you care about me" he lowered the sword "Strickler, you- you were my-" he couldn't say the word father. It was too painful to say.

"Jim-"

"It's funny" he laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh "I thought I was important to you but- Guess I always saw something that wasn't really there" Jim used his sleeves to wipe away the tears and looked at Strickler again "Okey, let's end this right now, Mr. Strickler"

"Jim- I don't want-"

"You don't want?" Jim said in a broken voice "I didn't want you to betray me, to hurt me, but you did. You didn't care. So why should I?"

In that moment-

-Strickler knew.

When he heard Jim's voice, broken, and saw the pain in his eyes, he realized everything he did was a mistake.

Everything was worthless.

[knifefamilymybeloved]

Strickler and Jim's relationship is the best thing in trollhunters. Am I right or am I right?

[kathrahender]

From the creators of heroic rivals-to-lovers fics and villanous rivals-to-lovers fics- I present you-

Heroic rivals to lovers, villanous rivals to lovers, and hero-villain enemies to friends fics. Yeah, the three tropes -together- in the same fic.

[pinkytoothlesso11]

Hey, there the same newbie in the Fandom again

I rewatched the show again with my brother and started noticing things I didn't in the first. But for today, only one ask shall I send

Do you think Walter has some guilt feelings about Jim transformation? I mean, the boy wasn't listening to Merlyn till he said similar reasons to the one Strickler said in training and especially in bad coffee, which we saw in it that Jim still cared about Walter opinion or something? (TBH, I like the episode, but half of it was just trash . What do you mean by just "protect her?" he cares for Jim and forbids Bular from attacking him way before starting to start dating Barbara)

Wow, so much rambling sorry anyway back to the guilty feelings because I think he kinda saw himself the reason? He clearly knew or guessed what the potion would do because of his reaction to it

And the "young Atlas you are not alone"

It strikes me as if he realized what he said earlier about Jim not being able to defeat Gunmar by his strength alone (so he got the potion) and his speech was more of hopeless attempt to reach Jim to not accepting the fact he can't win alone but they could find another way together

Oh God, I write all of that, so sorry, but you're the only trollhunters (Strickler) fan I know would be able to understand me

First off, this is a fantastic ask! And it doesn't matter how many times I rewatch Trollhunters, I still find new things. It's probably why I rewatch so much.

I don't think Walt is guilty about Jim's transformation to half-troll. He wanted Jim to survive Gunmar. Because any humanity shown to Gunmar would end with Jim dead. Strickler never said Jim needed to be more than human, not like Merlin did. Strickler was terrified Jim would die, which was why the training in season 3 was so tough. Strickler was angry and scared when he realised what Merlin had done.

Yeah, Jim DOES care about Walt's opinion on him, and I think the same can be said of Walt.

Bad coffee is a bad episode for Strickler and Jim's relationship lol. Right from the start of Trollhunters it was JIM who instilled in Strickler the seeds of his eventual redemption. And RoTT (terrible as it was overall) proved that once and for all. Strickler is willing to DIE for Jim. He didn't die for Barbara. And that's why Jim sets him up with Barbara at the end of the movie.

The whole 'I didn't return to train you, I returned to protect her' can't be taken seriously. Since you know, Strickler was high on gravesand. Nothing he says is particularly nice while on gravesand. None of the teachers are lol. And it was said also because Strickler wanted Jim to kill him. To finish the fight. And needed to say something to wind him up. What better then using his mom? Since obviously he returned for Jim's sake, knowing Barbara would want nothing to do with him at the time. And yes, maybe he returned to train Jim also because it would indirectly protect Barbara, but still. Blatent lie. If that was true, Jim would be dead.

[rishaelvendil]

¡Buenas a todos! Por fin he publicado el primer capítulo de uno de mis fics en proceso de Trollhunters. "To Fix a Broken Heart". Es un fic centrado sobre todo en la relación (platónica padre/hijo) entre Strickler y Jim y la relación entre un OC y Jim (romántica), pero no es lo único de lo que trata. No es el típico fic de Trollhunters, ¡por lo que me encantaría que le dierais alguna oportunidad! No quiero hacer spoilers de más, pero se trata de un Dimension Travel AU. Si alguien está interesado, ¡arriba tiene el link! ¡¡Espero que os guste!! <3333

[deadsetobsessions]

What Do You Have There?

A knife!

Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.

They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.

The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.

A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.

"Danny."

"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.

"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."

Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.

"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.

Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.

"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"

"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.

"Why on earth would you display that?"

"Because you stabbed me with it?"

"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"

"That would be mean!"

Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.

"Do you want to see my collection?"

"Your collection?"

"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."

Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.

"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"

Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.

"And when was this?"

"Oh, like a week ago."

"What? When did you go to the docks?!"

"At night. I couldn't sleep."

"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"

"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"

"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"

Danny and Damian turned around.

"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.

"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.

"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."

"What?!"

"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"

With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."

Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"

"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.

Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.

"Oh, wow, I see!"

----

In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.

"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.

----

Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.

"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.

"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.

"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.

"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"

"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."

Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.

"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.

"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."

Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."

And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.

"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."

"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.

"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.

"Do you know which vigilantes?"

"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."

Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.

"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."

Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.

"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."

"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."

"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"

Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Bros before Ho(oh my god is that Hanguang-Jun?)

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[the-knife-consumer]

Messing with designs that give me grief. And thinking.

[marluoo]

I wonder what he’s excited about

audio from penguinz0 (yt)

(I badly edited the audio just to make him sound like nightmare)

[starry-bi-sky]

fast food is the best course of action after causing a scene. ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀɴʏᴀʟ ᴀʟ ɢʜᴜʟ ᴀᴜ

(First Post Here and Second Post Here

--------

Danny finds Sam easily.

She's right where she said she was over the phone: standing outside on a balcony, in Gotham, at Father's many charity functions. 

("Would you still be willing to fly over to Gotham, Danny?" She asks, her voice ringing clear through the speakers. Danny is already climbing out his window before she even finishes her sentence. He was just about to settle down for the night, his ghosts would know better by now than to disturb him at this time. The Box Ghost not included.)

("Of course." He says, sounding more confident than he feels. Sam was one of his best— closest friends, he would do anything she or Tucker asked. Even if it means stepping foot into his Father's city. He drops down silently, and walks through the house's ghost shield. "Would you like me to bring you anything?")

(Sam sighs through the phone, relief leaking through. "One of the veggie burgers from Nasty Burgers would be great, with their new ecto-fries. Extra salt. I'm sick of all this rich people food.")

(A small smile pulls across Danny's face, tilting at the corner as his living form falls away to his ghost self. "Alright," he says, and kicks himself off the ground, "I'll be there in a few minutes.")

("Thanks, Danny.")

He had the bag of food with him, stored in a container he had to run back to the house to get that would prevent the food from cooling during his flight over. Clutching it in hand, he floats down behind Sam and sheds his invisibility.

Being visible and being invisible always felt different, but in a way Danny can never describe, no matter how many times he tries to think about it. It's like a gut-feeling, a sixth sense, he always knows when he's visible and when he is not.

His ghost form burns away like steel wool being lit, and Danny drops the last foot to the ground silently. In his other hand lies his thermos, but filled with plain ectoplasm — lazarus water. "I have your food." 

(He brought the thermos for himself — his side was still healing from his last fight with Technus. The ghost impaled him with a broken pipe, and Danny returned the favor by wedging his sword into his chest. Technus had been quite offended by him ruining his favorite coat.)

Sam jumps a foot into the air, and her hand slams across her mouth to muffle the shriek she lets out as she whirls around. "Danny!" She hisses, her voice rising in pitch, and her eyes narrow at him into a glare. "Freaking-- Tucker's right, we seriously need to put a bell on you."

"You have been saying that for years," Danny grins, sharp-toothed and jack-knifed, and passes the container over to her. "And yet I've yet to see any kind of bell." He was going to start getting disappointed at this rate.

As Sam takes the container, Danny hops up onto the railing and looks around. He hadn't seen any of Father's other children lurking around the building before he revealed himself, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that their stealth skills were poor.

He wasn't that arrogant.

...Anymore.

"Oh you will." Sam threatens, unzipping the container and grabbing the takeout bag. "I'll get you a collar and everything, we can start calling you Catwoman." When she pulls out her fries, Danny snaps forward and steals one from the box, ignoring her indignant yell as he pops it into his mouth.

"I spent my own money on these fries, Sam." He sniffs, leaning away from her with a stifled huff of laughter as she swats at him. "So they are technically my fries. And also, Catwoman would be a poor thief if she wore a bell."

Sam grumbles at him, and takes a bite out of a handful of fries. "I'll venmo you money." She says past a mouthful of food, Danny would have been disgusted in the past, when he was still new. But he's gotten used to this... normality. So he makes no reaction to it. "How does three hundred bucks sound?"

Danny immediately frowns.

"Did you have a fight with your parents?" He asks, eyes glancing to the doors. Doors that are covered heavily by curtains and blurred heavily, decadent music passing through in muffled sounds. He shifts himself away from the light. "You only spend that much money when they've pissed you off."

Sam's chewing stops, and her annoyed expression falters into one Danny knows well -- hurt, furrowed brows, a small frown, disappointment -- and she turns her head away from him. She swallows. "Yeah." she says, quiet.

Oh.

Danny knows that tone too.

Guilt settles like a rock in his chest. He leans forward, "Was it about me again?" He wasn't blind to the disdain Sam's parents had for him, far from it. This wasn't the first time Sam had gotten into a fight with them over her friendship with him and Tucker. But especially him. He unsettled people, even after years of observing his age-mates and trying to mimic their behavior, and anyone who knew him in middle school knew it was an act.  

Sam's silence gives him all the confirmation he needs, and the guilt heavies itself with the weight of the sky. Danny's never much cared about others' opinions of him -- he is (was?) an Al Ghul, they never heed to mind what the weight of a simpleton's thoughts.

But.. he cares a little a lot when it hurts his friends like this. He presses his lips together into a thin line, and forces the words out through his teeth. It sounds robotic. Al Ghul's do not apologize. "I... am sorry." But this one does. It doesn’t come easy. 

Sam sighs through her nose, and turns to roll her eyes at him. "Don't apologize on their behalf when you won't even apologize for your own; their assholes." She says, and goes reaching for more fries.

It's a sign, a signal. A silent word for the conversation to move on, to change. A distraction. Danny grasps it with both hands, and makes an offended noise in the back of his throat. And like he has learned, puts a hand to his chest like a scandalized American southern lady. "I apologize! I apologize plenty."

She snorts. "Only when you think it matters." And pokes him in the ribs sharply with her fry. He withholds a wince and snatches it out of her hands. "You're about as unapologetic as they come, Danny J. Fenton. I've seen you look more sincere when you're trying to drive your sword between Vlad's ribs."

"Stabbing Masters is a very important task for me, Sam." Danny says in only partially faux-seriousness. Masters has yet to realize that Danny had no interest in becoming his son, but he had to (reluctantly) admire his persistence. "Of course I will apply myself to it as best as I can."

He grins triumphantly when Sam laughs, and she reaches over to shove him square in the chest. He barks out a laugh of his own as he grips onto the balcony railing and catches himself at an angle.

"Quit with your method actor talk," Sam retorts, grinning sharply while Danny twists himself back up elegantly. "I know you can talk like a normal person, I've literally seen you do it."

Danny sniffs, and snatches more fries from the carton as revenge. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, Miss Sam." He says, grin-twisting when Sam rolls her eyes. "My speech has always been this way. This 'normal' you speak of, I do not know it."

She waves her hand dismissively at him. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But if you keep talking like that, I'm pushing you off the balcony."

"Such violence, Sam."

He gets a laugh again, full of disbelief without any of the annoyance. "I'm gonna be the one that stabs you, oh my god. Pot meet kettle." She looks at him again, smiling.

Danny smiles back, and with a flick of his wrist pulls out a kunai from his sleeve. It was one of the few weapons Mother was able to pass on to him whenever she made her scarce visits. He cherishes it well, along with anything else she was capable of giving him. 

He holds the handle out to her, and watches her face shift from disbelief to shock, then back to disbelief. "Then you're gonna need a weapon to do that." 

"Of course you have a pointy object on you." She mutters, and takes the kunai and puts it in her purse. Danny makes a pleased hum, it resonates low in his core, and drops his hand. "When do you not have a pointy object on you?"

As if to make her point, Danny's hands twist near his side, and he holds his palms up to her, revealing the shobo he had also hidden on him. He gives her a shit-eating grin. "Never." He lowers his hand, and pockets the small weapon once again. 

Sam huffs, "Of course," she repeats, "thanks. I was gonna bring a knife but..."

Danny finishes the sentence for her, kicking his feet idly and knowingly. "The security at the door?" He'd seen them on his flight over the building. It wouldn't do much in the face of the Rogues, but at least they were good at keeping appearances and keeping out the smaller threats.

He rolls his eyes and turns his head away, looking up to the ugly, smog-covered skies. There was no bat signal in the air, and while that was a good thing, Danny almost wished there was. He wanted to see it. "I saw, and I would’ve called Father foolish if he hadn’t hired help. He attracts trouble almost as badly as I do."

"Maybe it's hereditary," Sam jokes, laughing under her breath. With her fries finished, she started on her veggie burger. "At least your dad isn't a vigilante like you are."

Danny smiles wryly. It felt nice to be able to talk more freely about this. That he didn't have to hide the fact that his father was Bruce Wayne, now that Sam knew it from her own accord. Maybe he could have conversations like these more often. Even if it was limited to Bruce Wayne only.

(Even if it felt a little terrifying to know that his father was so close by, close enough that Danny could reach out and touch him. To speak to him. But how would he explain that? And with an audience?)

(He’s wanted to see him since he was a kid, and he still does. It clings onto him like a cough that doesn’t go away after the cold already has, and while it has faded over the years, it clings. His mother’s words still ring in his ears however; it’s not safe. It’s not safe.)

(And isn’t that why he faked his death in the first place? So that his little brother would be safe? Why he gave up the heirship, his home, his Mother, Damian, and his chance to meet his Father? Going to see Father, even now, would be throwing that all away. He has to stay away.)

(Why is Damian with Father if staying with Father was unsafe?) 

He just needed to tell Tucker. Danny wouldn’t keep him out of the loop, he was just as much as his friend as Sam was. His eyes draw towards the door, where the golden glow of lights was still pouring through, where music was playing loudly. "Yeah, fortunately." 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that, and Danny finally cracks open his thermos. The pipe Technus impaled him with was covered in a goo that Danny didn’t recognize, but whatever it was, his injury was taking its time healing. The ectoplasm was speeding it up. 

He isn’t sure what the difference between the ectoplasm that Drs. Fenton collected and Grandfather’s Lazarus pools is, but there’s a difference. He swirls the thermos slowly, watching as the ectoplasm inside twists into a small whirlpool sluggishly. 

When left alone, it thickens into a consistency similar to egg whites, or perhaps a thick smoothie, but reverts back into a water-like substance when moved and swirled. It was strange; unexplainable. He can understand, to an extent, why the Drs. Fenton are so obsessed with studying it and the dimension it comes from. 

Sam watches him idly as he brings the thermos to his lips and drinks from it. The effect is instantaneous, a sense of relief washing over Danny as if someone had put a soothing balm onto an injury. It buzzes down to his fingertips, and when he lowers the thermos, he licks his lips and watches the tips of his fingers burn green like frostbite. 

“Your hair turned white again.” Sam comments, her hand reaching out and touching the hair on the nape of his neck. While it’s not the first time Sam’s touched his hair, it still makes him tense up with her hand so close to his throat. Instinct. dan

He ignores the urge to bat her hand away, humming thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it does that.” He says, pulling down his bangs to see if they’ve also turned white. No, still black. He lets go. “Let me guess; my eyes are green too?” He lifts the thermos again and peers into the chrome casing. 

Sam nods, “Yep, but it’s only the, uh.” She makes a circle around her eyes with her finger. “The iris part. Everything else is fine.” 

Danny can see that. The faint reflection on the chrome casts back an intense green. He takes another sip. It chills the back of his teeth, and he can feel his canines warp and sharpen. He runs his tongue over them, and swallows. 

Sam is still watching him, her fingers drumming against the balcony railing. “What’s it taste like?” 

“Carbonated.” He says dryly, before taking a large swig. He couldn’t name a specific flavor if he tried, it changed every time he took a sip. The only thing that stayed consistent was that it tasted carbonated. And slightly sweet. When he pulls the thermos away, Danny twists his body towards her and offers it out, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Want to try?” 

Her reaction is immediate. Sam’s nose scrunches up and her mouth twists into a smile, and she makes a huffing-laugh sound. “No, thank you.” She pushes it away lightly with her fingers, “I don’t know how to explain to my parents why my hair is white.” 

Right. Danny pulls the thermos away and puts it down beside him, straining his eyes to see if the rest of his hair has changed colors. Even just his first sip would take half an hour to fade back to its normal black, and he was a halfa. He had no idea how long it’d take to fade on Sam, who was human. 

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and Danny snaps his head towards the source. There’s a figure, small, a boy, trying to hide behind one of the curtains at the door. His form just barely peeking out from the angle Danny was sitting at. He wouldn’t have seen him if the boy hadn’t moved. 

His fingers curl tightly into the railing, and he breathes in sharp. Sam’s smile crumbles away and she turns to see what he’s looking at. “I should go.” He says, and reaches for his thermos. “There’s someone spying on us. Don’t say anything, just look at me.” 

Sam’s expression warps, twists. Her eyes widen, her jaw starts to drop before fixing itself into place, and her shoulders curl up and tense. She forces it all to smooth over, and she leans casually against the railing. There’s a tick in her jaw. “I see.” Her voice comes through teeth. “Do you think they saw you?”

“I am not sure.” Danny says. He keeps an eye on the figure as he twists himself over and grabs the Nasty Burger bag and the container. He tries not to look like he’s rushing. He is. How long has that boy been there? How much did he see? Did he hear anything? 

“Father, fortunately, has privacy films on the glass. Nobody should have seen me unless they’re specifically trying to peep through the door.” He says. The boy seems to realize that Danny was starting to leave. And, his heart beginning to sink, instead of leaving, moves to grab the door handle instead.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Danny’s breath catches in his throat, he’s hoping that isn’t who he think it is. But how else would he have not noticed an eavesdropper on their conversation unless it was someone who was capable of bypassing those skills? He told himself that he wouldn’t fool himself into thinking that his siblings’ had poor stealth. He got distracted. 

Five years, five years. He refuses to let that go down the drain. He zips up the container and throws his legs over the other side of the railing, his back facing the door. He hears the doorknob click, and without a word to Sam, slips off down the side and down to the ground below.

Just in time. The once muffled music now sounds blaring as the door presumably is thrown open and the pull of invisibility washes over him like a second skin. He doesn't stay to see who it is.

[andraedevane]

Star Wars & Trollhunters Crossover Idea

A fic about Trollhunters being in Star Wars universe. okay? A Trollhunters Star Wars AU. But a Trollhunters Star Wars AU with Gunmar being Palpatine, Barbara being Padme, Strickler being Anakin, Jim being Luke and Blinky being Obi Wan.

(Obviously in this universe the couple between "Padme" (Barbara) and "Anakin" (Strickler) would be more healthy than what Anidala is in the canon)

[autoraton]

as the tree, so the fruit

commissions are open!

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was flying to another country with my friends & family and when we arrived, Bill Cipher was waiting for my plane. He then proceeded to transform into Sugilite from Steven Universe and hunt me down?? This eventually led to me running into the forest and hitching a ride in a flying car to escape (all my friends were killed and I was oddly relaxed about this for some reason) until he finally captured me, gave me a knife, then repeatedly told me to stab him with it. When I woke up I felt genuinely unnerved.

[pinkytoothlesso11]

So if Jim had been a changeling raised by Nomura or Strickler, how much of Canon Events do you think would change? Also, Barabra is the Trollhunter instead of Jim.

Lol if Jim was a full changeling, raised by STRICKLER, then that would change a LOT.

I think Jim would be more ruthless and really, really be loyal to Strickler. But as he is young still and rather gentle and kind compared to other changelings, that does mellow Strickler out a bit more.

Barbara would be more logical approaching the changeling situation, she would try and reason and cajole Strickler AND Jim that if they want to flourish, and not simply survive then Gunmar isn't the way. After All, Bular doesn't care about them.

In the end, it is Jim who finally convinced Strickler to give Barbara's plan a chance, and become allies. (and in the process Jim gains a mom and Strickler a wife but that's a long way down the road).

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #61 Part 4

Danny woke up to a stream of sunlight on his face. The room was just as rich as he remembered, he stood up and stretched a bit before he heard a knock at the door.

It was Alfred bringing him a change of clothes, “Breakfast is ready, Master Danny. You can find the dining room down the hall to the left.” the old butler smiled at him. 

“You don’t have to call me Master, Alfred, I’m not your Damian.” Danny said, turning around to address him.

“Ah, yes, however you are still Master Bruce’s son, even from another world.” The butler gave him a cheeky smile.

Danny shrugged and headed to the bathroom to get changed. Once he was decent again, he headed down to the dining room. 

The room was just as fancy as the rest of the house with a chandelier and ornate vases. 

Danny noticed Damian and a few others already seated at the table. Damian wore what Danny could only assume was his rich kid school uniform. He sat across from Damian who made a small ‘Tt’ and turned away from him. 

Next to Damian was Tim who put away his laptop once Danny sat down. Tim was wearing a business suit, a dark red colored one. “Ah, you sleep much longer than Damian does, you must have been tired.” Tim smiled at him.

Also seated at the table and wearing a navy blue suit, was Bruce himself. He was drinking coffee and reading a newspaper.

“Stop comparing me to him, Drake, I’m nothing like this imposter.” Looks like Damian still thought he was a clone. 

Whatever, he shrugged it off and filled his plate. 

“I don’t really have a lot of free time,” was all Danny said before he started eating.

Tim kind of watched him for a minute, he looked kind of shocked for a second, “You’re eating meat??” 

Ah so that was another difference between them, “again, I’m Danny, I’m not Damian.”

Damian scoffed, “So that’s what you call yourself, imposter.”

Danny gave Damian a tired sigh, looks like the him of this universe was a lot more prideful than he was. Danny went through way too much to carry the same, dying and being crown prince of the infinite realms wasn’t exactly something he was born into. Danny was a bit jealous if he was being honest with himself. 

“Damian, please at least attempt to be friendly. Danny is our guest for the meantime.” Bruce said, putting his newspaper down. He then turned his attention to Danny, “I know it isn’t ideal but I think it’ll be best for you to stay here until we can get you to your own world. I’m planning a trip to the Watchtower tomorrow so I can speak with some of my colleagues about the situation.” 

Danny sighed but nodded his head, “I get it, you can’t have two of us running around.”

“Quite, you’re more than welcome to go around the mansion and the grounds, I’d also like to invite you along to the Watchtower but we’d need to come up with a disguise for you, secret identity and everything.” Bruce continued after taking another sip from his mug, “Alfred will still take you out today to get some basic necessities for you. We’ll get you a proper disguise so you're able to go with him.”

Danny nodded again and continued eating. He thought things over as he ate, he technically had a disguise they could use for the Watchtower but Danny was still on the fence on what exactly he’d tell everyone here.

It wasn’t exactly an easy conversation to have, thankfully some more people arrived for breakfast.

Master Post:

Last:

Next: