#rhs writing

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

I was going to make a joke about “Lotte is the only fan who doesn’t want their fanfiction to be canonized”.

But then I realized... I probably wouldn’t, either? And she’s talking like she Can’t Write in the first place (enjoying looking up to people for doing osmething She Can’t, which is a very sweet way to contrast her from Akko by the way).

But even as an adamant writer and lover of fanfiction myself, I would be too shy and skittish about having so many fans reading (and judging and criticizing) my stories.

Even though I KNOW I put more effort into designing my Raven’s-sibling fancharacter’s backstory to be canon compliant than the people who wrote Sons of Trigon. XP And I will FOREVER be bitter about that, but Titans 2008 sucked anyways.

I won’t lie, I felt SO very delighted when I found out that fanfiction is canonically canon in A Different Earth according to DC Comics.

But the fact that it’s my OWN PRIVATE Separate Earth is part of the delight. Yeah, I wish more people read my fanfics and shared the love I have for my characters and their stories... but my stories are written to please ME, not to please a Target Demographic^tm. (I mean, they’re basically All About my OCs with Raven co-starring in most of them. Honestly the rest of the team largely falls to the wayside. And so many of them are about rather mundane things compared to canon. Hell, I think there are only Two Canonical Fight Sequences! In a SUPERHERO fanfic!)

Not to mention, the debacle that would be editorial oversight.... Finding a publisher... Deadlines...

My mother has been pestering me for YEARS to get my writings published, and for awhile I thought I wanted that. But as it is now, I really just kind of... don’t.

I’d probably have to delete my fanfics to be able to legally share my Original World Conversions with a copyright stamp. And I don’t really want to do that. /o.o\ I LIKE being a part of a fanfiction community, and I LIKE that the people reading my stories already understand Raven on a level where I don’t have to explain Why Having a Half-Sister By Father throws her off balance for a WEEK.

Maybe when I have a lot more free time and a better grasp on escalation, I’ll consider publishing. But not right now.

So yeah, I’m with Lotte on this one.

(I won’t lie, I have some CRITICISMS for my fandoms’ canons, but I know I legitimately can’t write it better myself. Trust me, I tried.)

[bluerosefox]

GHOSTS WITH HEARTBEATS

When Jason had been going to Gotham Academy, he had (for a good reputation for the media and to help him catch up on his penmanship, remember he had been on the streets and dropped out of school before getting picked up by Bruce for a while) signed up for a penpal project for 'less privileged people' to write to.

(Although Jason was annoyed the penpal project stayed within the states and only selected a middle of nowhere town, he knew the Richie Rich Elites would never subjugate their 'Heirs' to actual kids in need of learning how to read and write)

But Jason didn't mind his penpal.

Danny Fenton was a riot to talk, err write to in all honestly.

From his dry punny humor (and boy can he give even Dick a run for his money in the pun department but hey using some of them actually got Dick to warm up to him a few missions ago) and death jokes so many death jokes, to his nerdy love for space Jason enjoyed writing to Danny.

Even the short stories he would write about a ghost kid protecting a small town from other ghosts was interesting to read. He really liked the different kinds of ghosts there could be. Granted some seemed very OP like that Clockwork dude.

Jason liked writing to Danny, and even after the penpal project was over they had plans to keep sending letters, maybe even exchange numbers soon...

But then he died by the hands of the Joker.

The letters leaving Wayne Manor may had decreased but the letters being sent never did or at least until a few years ago.

Then Jason somehow returned to the land of the living.

Got taken by the LoA, tossed in the green waters and turned into their Pit Raged weapon for a while before leaving them behind and setting out for his revenge against the Joker and to force B's hand.

And becoming a Crime Boss for a while too. Can't forget that.

Point being with all this going on, the old warm memories of exchanging letters with Danny Fenton was pushed into the back of his mind and forgotten about for a while.

It isn't until one afternoon at Wayne Manor that while roughhousing with Dick, who had Jason in a brotherly headlock as they walked down a hall to one of the sitting rooms, that while Jason had slipped out of Dick's hold had stumbled into a hallway desk that had a few things on the top of it, one of the things being a small box that tumbled off when Jason hit it.

The box lid opened and out of it spilled out a good number of letters.

"Shiii-p, dang it Dick!" Jason said when he looked at the mess he accidentally made and stopped himself from swearing, the place might be named Wayne Manor but everyone knew this was Alfie's domain and no swearing was a rule within his halls.

Dick only laughed and teased only in a way a sibling can do "Hey not my fault your as big as a tank Jaybird! We should get you some caution signals if you keep bumping into things!"

Jason flipped him his favorite finger, thankfully Alfred only knew when they swore thus it did not summon him, and bent down to the letters.

His hands froze when he recognized the hand writing and the address it was sent from.

"From: Danny Fent Nightingale

Amity Park, IL"

To: Jason Todd-Wayne

Gotham City, NJ.

Wayne Manor"

And when Jason opened the letter. He really wasn't expecting what was written inside.

"Jason.

I'm finally leaving Amity Park. I can't be there anymore, not after everything. I'm too tired, and emotionally hurt. Everything is just to much. And I can't keep doing this to myself. My parents still can’t understand there is nothing ‘wrong’ with me or why I refuse to let them take care of Ellie, I refuse to let her live the way Jazz and I did, Jazz has to much on her plate already with her own life and college but she’s been hounding me to reach out to mom and dad, Sam refuses to listen to me when I tell her I want to be more than ‘Phantom’ in Amity Park, and Tucker is so busy trying to get into a good college and job we barely have time to talk nowadays. And don’t get me started on Vlad, that fruitloop’s been breathing down my neck since Ellie’s deaging.

Despite how much of a hellhole you like to call it, I think Gotham might be my, no mine and Ellie’s best bet of living some kind of life, especially now since the whole deaging she had to go through, she needs an ectoplasm rich city as well and since she has no actual papers because she was my clone and I remember you saying Gotham has people who can create new identities and-

I’m rambling again, to letter you again. I really need to stop it.

I can’t keep pretending you’re going to read these.

I know you’ll never read these. You’re gone. I can’t even find you in the Realms no matter where I look.

I’m sorry. For using you as, well, a way to vent my life for last couple of years. I shouldn’t had done it but it helped me.

Believing my friend was still alive and getting my letters I mean.

Again I’m sorry.

This will be my last letter to your ghost, pun unintended.

Goodbye Jason. Wish us luck in your city.

-Danny Fen-Nightingale...."

The sent date on the letter was roughly eight years ago.

[oceans-beloved]

Meme dump yayyy🥳✨️

(off to make more now muhahaha >:3)

[msfcatlover]

Oh look. Reverse!Robins.

Bruce: “No murder.”

Damian: “No murder.”

Cass: “No murder.”

Tim: “No murder.”

Jason: “No murder for babies.”

Duke: “No murder until you can write me a researched & cited essay on why it is necessary for the greater good. Five page minimum.”

Dick: “I’m gonna murder.”

Red Hood!Steph: “I LIKE THIS ONE!”

[eefrostpoetry]

in the midst of my chaos i found solace in you

[krotiation]

"You can't ship rhack, it's toxic!!" Wrong, that's exactly why I ship it

[zinniapetals]

Oikage my dearly beloved why am I thinking about you in the year 2024

[yellowocaballero]

⭐️ for either of the fe3h fics <3

ROSETTA HEADSTONE!!!! A fic that was very messy and all over the place but one that I am actually very fond of and that was slightly slept on.

“You’re the other half of me.” Byleth spoke slowly, but for the very first time there was a hint of emotion in her voice. It was wonder. What an amazing first emotion to feel. How lucky! How magnificent! “I’m the other half of you.” Claude smiled. She was so wondrous. So beautiful and special. She’d need a lot of help. Dimitri would provide what he could, but Claude would have to pick up the rest. “You’re the other half of me. And I’m the other half of you. I’m you, and you’re me. Wonderful, isn’t it?” [...] “Is that a friend?” Byleth asked seriously.  “If you want. It’s anything you want.” Her hand was still on his chest, and Claude reached up to softly grasp her hand, pressing it softly against his chest. “Tell you what, Byleth. I’ll trust you completely if you trust me completely. Give me anything you want, and I’ll give you all of my own. Is that fair?”

There's a few different relationships that were very influential for this scene. SSS Class Suicide Hunter's Gongja/Raviel was a big one, but Full Metal Alchemist's Ed/Winry were too: when Ed tells Winry that he'll give her half of his life if she give her half of hers, and she tells him that she'll give him all of her life. Khalid and Byleth are platonic, but there's still something so Relationship about it that makes me go crazy.

I got fond of the character I had created over the course of this story. He started out a lonely, isolated, self-centered person. He was a chronic liar who was fundamentally impossible to understand. He used his separation from others as a microscope, a way of studying and trying to dissect them down into pieces that he can understand. He's the kind of person to brag about this, and a significant percentage of it is self-inflicted, but I felt bad for him. He and Byleth's disconnect, their inability to work together, inadvertently resulted in her death. His first time investing whole-heartedly in somebody was in a dying woman, who had been dead to begin with.

It was what made this moment special to me. He's not psychoanalyzing or dissecting her in this scene - he's just caught in the beauty of this imperfect and banal moment. He sees how amazing it is to have somebody to truly understand. Giving away all of himself is an act of intense vulnerability, the kind he once never would have tolerated, but he does it willingly here - because you can't get if you don't give, and if you give somebody all of you then you can have all of them, and what is shared is doubled.

I wrote Byleth very 'Dead Anime Mom' - everything she said had to be incredibly significant and meaningful. She was perfect and untouchable. It's only in the epilogue that we see her humanity and vulnerability, that she feels remotely on the same level as Khalid. She doesn't understand him and he doesn't truly know her - how fantastic, that there's so much to discover about each other! How miraculous, that this person is about to take her first steps into becoming a human being, and that you're lucky enough to guide her on that path! That you get to become a human being with her!

It's a unique set of emotions that I hope the reader was able to feel alongside Khalid. Both Weekenders and RH were stories about the protagonist joining humanity, and both of them had to do it through confronting the twin calamities of death and love, but I'm a bit more fond of how it happened in RH. I think it may have been the strong The World Ends With You influence, which is a game that splits open the mind of the depressed misanthropic fifteen year old. I remember the first time I felt lucky to exist in the world. It felt like an important part of growing up - and maybe a pre-requisite of survival. It's hard to survive never feeling that sense of wonder. It was great to write somebody experiencing it for the first time.

[thesovietonion77]

wrote a song y'all

i wrote a song about Perderé in the RH!AU and its cool, methinks it's called It Shows

(Verse 1) At first when it started I thought that it was all real how exactly did i feel When i never had departed

(Prechorus) found myself in a depression I learned it was all a sham After you forced me into submission Like the dog you think i am

(Chorus) And it's not fair, i know But theres nowhere i can go And forever to you, i'm tied I just wish that i had died And you don't care, i know I'm punished if i don't show And you use me and abuse me Just to order me to keep a ruse… And it shows

(Verse 2) I'm performing on a stage If i fall, i'm met with rage And it takes a while to gauge Just how much that i can take

(Prechorus) my feathers fall to the ground But you tell me to go back down And you're pulling on my tail Like i chose to enter this jail

(Chorus) And it's not fair, i know But theres nowhere i can go When they banished me, put me through strife I wish that they'd ended my life And you don't care, i know I'm punished if i don't show And i simply cannot break these chains My wings are clipped, you have the reins… And it shows

(Verse 3) And this little hotel noticed These nice ladies took me in Gave me a place that was free from sin I felt i could uncuff my shins

(Prechorus) And it's funny, really now All those years that i had bowed I realized that you're just some 12 foot tall french piece of sentient metal that i could stab if i wanted to

(Chorus) (Emotionally) I'll make things fair, you know And there's nowhere you can go As i laugh at all your cries see the terror in your eyes And I don't care anymore That you called me a little whore et je vais te tuer, espèce de salaud et je m'assurerai qu'ils ne trouvent pas ton cadavre rouillé-!…

(Outro) So it shows How i was treated Like a pet for you to beat and fight finally it all came back to bite you And now they all know That you were defeated I did it in a frenzy From you I'm finally free

And it shows

[charmwasjess]

Re-reading my Five Days to Murder Sifo-Dyas and I'm cracking myself up at my own author notes of Last Year Jess going "uh, oops, eek, this is a lil' different from my usual thing, y'all excuse the handjob there at the end it was v. v. v. important for the plot 🥺👉👈"

SWEET SUMMER CHILD RUN THIS SHIP IS ABOUT TO RUIN YOU

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

I was tagged by @cxttlefishcxller! Thank you, Conniefef!

The rules are simple - find a sentence, or excerpt, that includes the words you're given and paste it in, and include a link to the finished story if you want. But honestly, these are guidelines at best - do what you want.

My words to find: Paper, Sunset, Natural, Leather, Bookmark, Steel, Chill, Ember, Storm, Makeshift

I'm tagging: (Under the condition that you want to do this!) @astrearl, @chasm-connected and @sirenianheart if they have enough of their writings at hand to do this, @monstrousgourmandizingcats, aaand @cxttlefishcxller again if you want to do more words!

Also any writers who see this post and think it'd be fun!

Your words are: - Fly - Green - Independent - Fixated - Magical - Incoherent - Copy - Mental - Fire - Glowing

(Zira addition: If my words are too "purple prose" or specific for your style, feel free to find a synonym or excerpt that captures its mood if not its exact verbiage!)

~*~

I chose a few paragraphs for my excerpts, but I'll post Just The Sentences first, and if you want some context with a satisfying beginning and ending, you can read past the cut!

Paper: A breeze rustled the desiccated newspapers at the end of the alley, blowing in some less-stale air, and she inhaled deeply as she regathered her strength.

Sunset: Looking closer, her eyes seemed to glow with a smooth but wary light, the violet-gray of a sunset thinly veiled with incoming stormclouds.

Natural: It was only natural to thought-speak in this conducive mindscape, anyways.

Leather: And the bird herself changed. Full wings became ragged. Claws hooked the wingtips. Beak filled with knifepoint teeth, deadly, made to tear - lit by red fire of cruelty in her eyes. Feather became leather, roughhewn, scales.

Bookmark: She sighed inwardly as she lay the book aside gently, placing in the tiny paper bookmark... right next to her on the bed.

Steel: Facts, memories, details-- all things Raven knew to steel herself against when she opened herself to their ravages.

Chill: She found, her mother's memory of that glimpse was already slightly cloudy and vague... but what Dove knew was accurate to her humanity, her ethereal appearance, her chill.

Ember: Her cloak had adopted an unusual color, a faded orange, like dying embers just before they were totally extinguished.

Storm: His presence breached the storm of her powers and she coughed on a gasp and sensed him and his desperate affection so suddenly it choked her mind to stillness; the flames suddenly vanished, and Dove was left choking on the dust from the section of collapsed wall – her powers had ravaged the room.

Makeshift: A makeshift bowl wouldn’t be so hard to obtain…

~*~

Paper: (This one was hard to find for some reason. It was mentioned in a lot of the files, referring to notes written on paper, and it was used quite a few times in the emvents, but I'm not comfortable sharing those. It's not the WHOLE word, but this is from the revamp of Kary's debut.)

She sat down on the cold, unforgiving concrete and tried to breathe it all away. No, no, she couldn’t faint in the city, not around these people!

A breeze rustled the desiccated newspapers at the end of the alley, blowing in some less-stale air, and she inhaled deeply as she regathered her strength. She needed to find something to eat, and fast. Soon she’d be too weak to travel, then too weak to walk... but it hurt, this place was giving her such a headache...

Whimpering quietly, the dog nuzzled her hands and licked her across the cheek as if begging her to get up.

“Okay...” The dizziness gone, she stood warily. She had to hold her hand on the wall for balance, and to ward off the uncertainty that she couldn’t do it. She wouldn't give her body any other choice. Testing her legs again – at least they’d hold her up.

--

Sunset: (An excerpt from the Team Transition story file, describing character!Zira (who had the name before I took it for myself)...)

Looking closer, her eyes seemed to glow with a smooth but wary light, the violet-gray of a sunset thinly veiled with incoming stormclouds. He'd never seen a color like that... and her face was just barely discernible in the hood's shadow. The eyes, mouth, and areas between were visible - but the shape of her face was impossible to tell; the edges melded into the shadows too smoothly. He wondered how she got her hood to do that so perfectly.

--

Natural: (I use this word a lot, apparently. But I haven't shared any secretshipping scenes yet!)

And through her concentration, Dove was hopelessly confused when she heard HIM muttering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

“You haven’t DONE anything...”

"I know, and that’s WHY.” Whatever he was feeling, it was strong enough to leave Dove breathless and it wouldn’t let him speak through his throat. It was only natural to thought-speak in this conducive mindscape, anyways.

"Srentha."

"I’m so sorry I can’t do anything to HELP!”

"Srentha, you're crying..."

"I want to HELP you, Dove! But I tried everything - the herbs, the magic, the memories - and none of it did you any good! You even seem worse - I feel so USELESS!"

Dove’s whirl of confusion seemed to shock the storm to silence. She felt concern so deep it ached, and deeply desperately frustrated crackles of white lightning still sparked out all around her. "No... no, Srentha, that is SO far from true..."

"But I probably only made you worse."

He blinked his wide, tear-soaked eyes, and looked into her indigo gaze so deeply it broke her heart to pieces. He was crying, and to see that usually lit-up and enthusiastic gaze so desperate and hopeless... It was like taking the stars from the night sky.

--

Leather: (From the opening of Dove's Dark Discovery, chapter 14...)

This wind felt heavy… strong… Approaching.

She flapped hurriedly – the dark already held her. She fled, her heart quickening. Feathers darkening, melding with the shadows, blending in and erasing edges until she was one with the blackness no matter how frantically she tried to evade, the invisible claws were already latched on.

And the bird herself changed. Full wings became ragged. Claws hooked the wingtips. Beak filled with knifepoint teeth, deadly, made to tear - lit by red fire of cruelty in her eyes. Feather became leather, roughhewn, scales. This bird was no longer an image of peace but an icon of evil. Peace to protection, serenity to strength as her lithe form slithered onward, onward, flexing new muscles as she glided towards a red light that was more like a bloodstain on the velvety black background.

--

Bookmark: (Weirdly enough, the book word was one of the least frequently occurring in my story notes! And half of them aren't even fully written. So here, take this. From something I wrote 10+ years ago.)

If only, if only... She could dream, no harm in that... unless the dream turned into a nightmare... Psh, right. Nightmares, what a joke. At least you WAKE UP and get away from the prison, or you find yourself on a comfy bed before you hit the ground.

She shook her head, bringing her eyes back into focus and back to the book.

Two words, a sentence...

She sighed inwardly as she lay the book aside gently, placing in the tiny paper bookmark... right next to her on the bed. She stared up at the ceiling, the plastic stars stuck up there with tack and - what was that, duct tape...? Well, it wasn't anything like the night sky, even when the lamp went off - those streetlights at her window robbed the phosphorescent stars of their beauty. She wondered, wished she could have a skylight, tilted away form the sick electric glow of the street and facing the south, or west towards the parkway... Maybe south-southeast, where the winter moon would rise tonight, slender and beautiful.

Ah, if only, if only...

--

Steel: (From the yet-unpublished revamp of Unforeseen and Unforesaken, I present to you an excerpt from my favorite scene in the revamped "Revelations" chapter!)

Empathically connected, Raven began working to ground Dove's energies, but this time she was far more fueled by the need to defend her friends against whatever dangers Dove had brought to them.

She didn't know what they were anymore. But she knew she needed to stop them.

So her eyes screwed tight, her face shadowed a grimace, her body clenched in resistance to the raging uncontrolled power she not only sensed, but shared, processed; taking charge, taking control, taking Dove's burden upon herself.

But there was more to Raven's connections-- much, much more than simple emotive empathy. Telepathy; clairvoyance; clairsentience. And a mind was much more than just emotions and power.

Facts, memories, details-- all things Raven knew to steel herself against when she opened herself to their ravages.

Dove's terror had long unleashed disorganized subconscious telepathic projections that Raven fought off instinctively.

But nothing could have prepared her for the shock that followed when Dove's life truths hit her awareness.

Raven's eyes flew open, wide and pinpricked and back rigid under shoulders that pulled back so suddenly both her concentration and the connection were shattered into fizzling black sparks.

--

Chill: (This one hasn't been placed in a story just yet, let alone published. If I ever do publish it, it'll likely be in the collection of Dove's childhood memories. If you've ever been curious about how Dove thought about Raven during her childhood...)

Raven was like a legend to her. And when she SAW her in her mother's memories for the first time: She was powerfully hit with sympathy... but also deep fascination.

That first time, she found herself thinking about her a lot, wondering, wistful - sympathetic. How could someone so young, made to be cold and calm, be the end to their world?

Her mother had told her enough about the way she was treated for Dove to know that very few, if any, had an answer. And she kept these wonderings mostly to herself.

That glimpse of her face became familiar in her thoughts. Dove studied the memory - her inhumanly pale skin, hair draping in an unearthly color, eyes deep yet distant. Relating her to the stories - Raven, the omen, the child that quaked Azarath in birth and would send them all to their death. More than story, not only prophecy - but Azar's sacred decree.

And Azar - RAISING her!

Sometimes she asked her mother if she can see her again. And Alerina would smile in that softly, sadly, sympathetic way of hers, and bring the memory back, so easily.

And then Dove studied every little aspect, mentally tracing the curve of her jawline, the hooded curve of her eyelids, the effortless focus so unobtainable to her... Tracing her, learning her, again and again and again. Until she realized she was dedicating her to memory.

And suddenly, Raven to her seemed REAL.

She was surprised at the depth of her feeling, for a moment - and then she asked her mother if she could see her yet again. She wanted to be sure her memorization was accurate. She didn't want to distort Raven behind her eyes, the way everyone else had done.

She found, her mother's memory of that glimpse was already slightly cloudy and vague... but what Dove knew was accurate to her humanity, her ethereal appearance, her chill.

--

Ember: (I had a hard time finding this word itself because I don't know how to specify that in File Explorer. But I could in Word at least! And even then, I had to approximate it... Here's one from DDD, chapter 18.)

Movie night.

Raven thought it was a bad idea for Dove to join them, with how erratic her emotions had been lately, and said exactly as much.

"It's just a movie," Dove muttered in a quiet monotone. "It can't be that dangerous..." Her cloak had adopted an unusual color, a faded orange, like dying embers just before they were totally extinguished.

Raven supposed it signaled apathy.

--

Storm: (Unpublished scene from The Next Step wherein Dove has a nightmare...)

“Dove, you’re screaming again!”

Srentha ran in full-speed through the doorway, though he was already panting hard.

His presence breached the storm of her powers and she coughed on a gasp and sensed him and his desperate affection so suddenly it choked her mind to stillness; the flames suddenly vanished, and Dove was left choking on the dust from the section of collapsed wall – her powers had ravaged the room.

Bedside he leaned over so he could see her in the near-endless blackness (was it just him or was her room even darker than usual?) – her eyes were wide, desperate, hurt, absently gaping up at him as she gasped desperately for breath, frozen in place.

"Dove, are you alright?!"

She didn’t answer – but she didn’t pull away, so he knew it was okay to clutch her close to him, promising her it was only a dream until the black-laced lightning wore itself out and her convulsive breaths had calmed to a quiet shudder.

--

Makeshift: (From an unpublished chapter of Srentha's debut story, Fire and Flight.)

He nodded to himself, finalizing that today would be the day he left. He pulled one of the oldest corked bottles from his robe, tilting his head in calculation. It wouldn’t be easy, but if he could form some of the more basic ingredients from the ashes, and if he could gather the right quantities, it would only be a matter of combining them in a container big enough the hold the solution. A makeshift bowl wouldn’t be so hard to obtain…

And so he set to work, gathering a pile of ash here, a broken chunk of the ground there, all the while keeping track of his findings and being sure he had exactly the right amount of everything. And then he called forth his energies, sitting on the ground and beginning the transformations. Each object shifted as he cast the spells, smoothly changing their shape, color, texture – first the bowl, then the white powder, the golden sand, and the deep blue liquid from his vial. He added each ingredient to the mix, carrying out each step more carefully than he ever had before.

Finally, the mixture took on a faint glow, and he smiled. The light emanating from the bowl faded as he tapped the final drops into the mixture, leaving a mass of glittering white-blue crystals, so small they seemed to be made of sand. So many thoughts flashed through his mind as he stood and took the bowl in his arms – if this worked and he did manage to pierce the dimensional boundary, how was he going to find the way to Earth? Would he be able to find his long-lost friend? Would he even be able to stay on that world long enough to search for her? And how would she react when they met? Would she believe it was really him…?

She’ll know, a voice within him promised – she always knew when he was lying in the past, so what would keep her from knowing the truth now?

[a-sad-mage]

Redhook gets "Oldman with LORE" privileges

In response to a comment in the Mall Cavern post

Redhook, dispight living a fairly quiet life in Quietlong Cavern, keeps up to date with just about everything that's going on.

Especially since he used to be Will Shane's go-to for Blaster repairs/upgrades. Probably Jimmo Shane as well.

The Shane's probably chat with him as he worked, or more likely just talked, and Redhooked listened.

Because of this, Redhook knows the most off-kilter things ever, especially about Will and Jimmo.

Like Eli drops in because his baster trigger is acting up (and he just really wanted to see Redhook again for whatever reason).

And while he's there, poking at the dodads in the shop while Redhook works. Redhook just drops the most unhinged anecdotes about his dad and grate uncle with zero prompting or explanation.

"You know, your old man once spent an entire week in a Forest Cavern, on a stake out, and temporarily went feral for a bit," Redhook said, not looking up.

"He what -" Eli said, his head snapping to the older man, "Redhook, what do you mean my dad went 'feral'?! What happened? Redhook!"

Redhook does not elaborate.

☆

"Your Uncle Jimmo used to be quitethe Lady's Man back in the day you know. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a couple brats running around causing trouble like he used to!"

"OMF JUST FIX MY TRIGGER!"

☆

"I once punched a pirate."

"Is that how you got your hook?"

"Na, lost it because of a bet"

"What-"

"Anyway I lost my eye to a Shadow Clan creature clawin' at my face"

"YOU WHAT?!-"

☆

Redhook also probably knew of Eli's existence before Will disappeared because he had two specially made blasters.

Will probably commissioned two, one for him and one for Eli, that he was going to give to his son after Eli had spent some time is Slugterra, but you know, he couldn't because he's in the Deep Caverns because Blakks a petty A-whole.

Redhook probably asked about why Will wanted two blasters even though Will doesn't dual wield, and more likely one was a backup.

And Will who subconsciously thinks about Redhook as a grizzled grandfather just blurts out.

"Ones for my son-" and Will immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, looking like a deer in headlights.

"...."

"...."

They just stare at each other for a good while, Will visibly panicking.

"Whats the kids' favorite color?" Redhook finally speaks.

"Eh- wha-?"

"Want me to make it a specific color, or keep it orange? You plan to gift this to your boy when he starts up as the next Shane, right? So why not personalize it a little for him?"

".... Orange is fine"

"Hmph, have it you're way then, just don't come cryin' to me if the kid hates it"

And then years later Eli stumbled into his shop, and at first, Redhook is not convinced that Eli is Will's son, never mind the fact Eli lookes like an almost exact copy of the older Shane.

After that brat comes back in some hours later, more confident than ever, demanding a new blaster so he can protect Quietlong? Redhook finally sees that all to familiar fire, that was just a merger spark hours before.

And if Redhook has a white box with an orange star on it, full of unique balster mods set aside- he wasn't going to say anything. Not until the kid needs it someday. That's the Shane way after all.

thank you for sharing you HC I love it and will cherish it forever in my cold little sad mage heart, @mrros-e also, very honored to be your first reblog☆.

[msfcatlover]

*mushes two of my favorite AUs together*

Red Hood!Steph would still be a Desolation avatar—there’s too much anger, too much destruction, too much hate & desire for the complete annihilation of the targets of that hate to be anything else—but she’s different.

RH!Jason is an earthquake.

RH!Steph would be a lightning storm. The crackle of electricity, the taste of ozone, the light of something utterly uncontrollable in her eyes. The billowing, bulging thunder cloud sweeping across the sky to blot out the sun. Wind enough to rip up trees, rain so heavy you can’t see, but lightning, lightning every few seconds, like all the electricity in the world has been stolen underneath her skin. A fire-starter (like Jason) but the blaze itself is not what you have to Fear, the blaze is merely a side effect of something much more powerful sweeping through. Her victims are not shattered bones & splattered brains, they’re bleeding ears & the reek of cooking meat.

Jason borders the Buried far closer than he’d like.

Steph would dance on the border of the Vast like a small child dances in the rain: with wild abandon & near-feral glee.

[eefrostpoetry]

i am nostalgic for all the memories i seem to have forgotten

[scattered-winter]

officially taking him away until dc can handle themselves

[sophiethewitch1]

Just played degrees of lewdity for the first time and got vored by a whale???